#*there is a traitor with my face attached to them*
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magma-grunt-zesty · 1 month ago
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I'm finding it hard to breathe easily. . .
My mind constantly spins and has known no rest this week. ..
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diorcities · 20 days ago
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snooze
jisung x you genre smut content friends with benefits, mention of mingi (hope you get why), cunnilingus, riding, multiple orgasm, unprotected sex, oral sex, fingering, nipple play, squirting, cum eating, wc 4k ── you always leave him and he plans to make you stay.
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ever since you kissed him, he can’t get you out of his mind.
it had been useless, had it?
it didn't take long for jisung to figure it out. he knows perfectly well that he gets attached quickly, his friends always tease him about it.
much there was say jisung was very chill. he was fine with evasive looks just like fingers pressing into his shoulder blades. the short greetings at gatherings as well as soft sounds muffled against his lips.
jisung couldn't make his head to begin to describe you, and the closest he's come is a little charm at night.
he's been lost because of it. only you can make him fall in love, only if you say yes.
“oh, my god. you can't be serious.” nayeon, dressed like a cheetah, shouts making her way through the tide of people to you, her gaze lost behind you.
and it is both your gift and your curse to know what has her upset without having to look. a boy with fangs and light brown hair with blonde highlights dancing and making out a girl prettier than the previous one and uglier than the next he'll met. “it can't be that he got over you so quickly,” she says while glaring. and despite feeling upset just like your best friend, you can't help but feel this immense lack of something. because while mingi kisses her, he doesn't stop looking at you.
it's been a while since you two broke up. the normal thing would be to keep going, yet you're still in the same place, just without the same feelings except regret. “it's alright,” you hear yourself say, only it's not.
if it makes him feel good to kiss girls in front of you, then it's fine. either way, you're the worst traitor.
it was a bad idea to have come, but you're used to always making a mistake. big ones are just as much a part of you as are your bad decisions. “i'll go smoke a little. listen, if you see ghostface, tell him he owes me money.”
she winks at you, “sure thing, angel.”
you move out of his sight and it feels ridiculous to see himself following your trail with his eyes until you move outside. when he feels that you've ignored him for too long, he's the first to offer truce.
“you look like a dream.” he's been drinking for a while, so he knows he'd never, ever dare to talk to you. but he knows that a couple of beers and the bad influence of his friends must not mix up.
“why?” he wasn't sure if he preferred your obnoxious demeanor or your condescending eyes meeting him. “have you dreamed of me?”
he looks stupid, and you smile wide when a blush tint his cheeks. because yes, he has. despite all the grace and angelic energy that your eyes transmit, jisung is embarrassed that every time he thinks of you the first thing that appears in his dirty mind is those wet eyes trying to stay open while looking at him from under his body. legs wrapped loose around his waist and parted lips inciting him to taste them.
he swallows hard and without meaning to, his eyes feel like two wells. his mouth is dry or maybe he's craved your lips a bit too much. a tingling runs through his fingers and his fingertips buzz. you have no idea how much he wants you, or maybe you do, because you smile wider.
all your grace takes form in dreamy eyes before you kiss him. and kiss him. and kiss him. his emotions get tangled followed by your responsive heart. he can't beat it, the feelings.
it's killing him, and it would hurt him more to admit that he's used all his manipulative tactics; lies and deceit, pretty words, empty promises. but then he looks at you with his pretty pleading love-me eyes and you can't handle it anymore. he kisses the inside of your wrist as he looks at you from below and you almost hesitate.
because that's his curse, or perhaps it is yours. you always leave. you're an angel faced like yet you're full of haunting. with your condescending gaze, virtuous lips stretched in a smile; shiny eyes filled contempt, as if you regretted something that you both tried so hard to ignore so as not to feel guilty. when the truth is, jisung could hardly think of anything other than you.
and he plans to make you stay.
his hand intertwines with yours, and there it is again. a monstrous hesitation. every time this drags on, the more guilty you feel; for thinking of him when you were together.
jisung's kisses drift you to the surface. “is it because of him?” he pronounces, and you've been an idiot for thinking he wouldn't notice at some point. “mingi?” he asks, drawing your hand to his chest, and the gesture causes the devious swarm to disperse as you swallow.
you shake your head, and unexpectedly you chuckle lightly, “no.”
there's no one bound to you. you're not tethered to him anymore, yet it felt like you were betraying him. it seemed like you've made a big mistake a long time ago and now this monstrous thought of whether he will ever forgive you does not cease to haunt you.
you've never been good at keeping your emotions at bay, so guilt eclipses other feelings, it overshadows your heart, beating to the rhythm of his pulse under your palm, slowly moving towards his jawline.
these rendezvous were not going to end well, and even so... you always came back. to him. he smells fresh and manly. he smells familiar.
he likes to eat you out first. it is almost inevitable to do so, as if something were missing. as if he were obsessed. and yet he takes his tortuous time and start kissing your stomach, the soft taut skin of your hip bone, where his hands tuck underneath to place them over his shoulders. “think only of me.”
your full legs bury his head and your femininity is received by caresses. tongue roaming along your core, plump lips sucking you. the right angle makes you sigh, “yes.” your mouth opens in awe and your eyes flutter shut feeling that tingling forming in your guts. just where his hands hold you so you don't move. “yes...” he glances at you the moment he use his tongue to put pressure on the sweet bulge to see you squeeze your eyes and tilt your head back.
he hums, and your whole body shivers feeling the cocky smile on his lips around you, full of spit and arousal covering his face for constantly hitting his nose in your sweet spot. you dissolve into nothing, your blood becomes washy, and you arch violently as he ventures his tongue down your folds into your needy entrance. “a-ahg.”
something hot runs down your belly and explodes into pleasant waves when it tightens your grip and pulls you closer, diving deep to taste your silkiness, hissing when feels too good. “mmm... god.” your teeth grind and your eyes squeeze at the sound his mouth makes every time he rocks his tongue along your sensitive clit, roaming his lips and sucking you rhythmically.
“fuck, you taste divine.” his hot breath brushes against your femininity and the purr of his deep tone causes you to buzz synchronously, the core of your belly sinking and legs trembling at his voice. “so sweet, my girl.”
he shakes his head as he smiles against you, and you're losing your mind at the view of his pretty face enraptured in the aroma of your intimacy. eyes closed while he sucks you good and holds your legs apart from bellow your thighs, keeping you spread for him.
you twitch in delight and his eyes darken having you on full display, grabbing his hair and guiding his motion where you most need him. “oh, yes. there... there.” your back arches unconsciously as your shaking voice tells him where to lick, where to nibble, where to caress. “feels good, ji.”
you're so wet you can hear it every time he rubs your clit dexterously with tongue and teeth, your mind filling with a hazy sensation you can't help but tremble hard, “s-good,” you cry feeling sensitivity numb your hurting nipples once he cups them on his big hands. too much to keep quiet. too much to hold it all in. your shaky moans fill the room when a sharp sensation sink your belly and whip your breath away.
jisung hums thoughtfully in glee when you start pulsing around nothing. unshed tears fills your eyes as you succumb to pain from the pleasure that runs through you from head to toe, buzzing in your bloodstream and making you whine for a bit of friction.
you squirm and arch when he pulls away. and you gasp despite watching him take off his belt from his jeans while his eyes don't leave your pussy, throbbing for him.
he's left you so aroused it hurts, wet and willing, your eyes don't leave him while his are fixed on your ruined pussy, missing his mouth full of your silky excitement. jisung licks his lips in trance, undoing zipper to let out his painful, throbbing erection under his underwear. “want to take it?”
your mouth begins to tingle wildly and an impulse forces you to moan a yes. “all?” your eyes darken and it's almost immediately that your hands draw him to you when he leans just a little, as if he wants to play now to see who needs whom, as if not knowing perfectly well that it has always been you.
from the first time you met.
and deep inside him, having you under him guiding him inside of you, he thought it would give him some satisfaction, but the guilt spreads. of course he was terrified of how he felt about you, maybe you were too? were you terrified of what you might feel for him? what did you already feel?
“oh, fuck.” no matter how many times he buries himself in you, it always has the same effect; it always makes him want more. “you feel so good, fuck,” he breathes and takes a moment to feel you, all around him, squeezing him right.
your body feels light when he thrusts you twice, his breath hitting your cheek when he groans, “i can make you forget about him.” and makes your legs fail.
he feels so nicely thick. the mere friction of his cock inside makes a tremor run down your legs and an explosion of sensations in your lower belly, growing when he starts to penetrate you.
he holds over your stomach, he doesn't take it out completely before he puts it back in, the rhythm making you both sobble with pleasure. it's almost tortuous the way it's not enough, to having him fully, fingers massaging your swollen femininity as he hammers your pelvis with yours, sounding deliciously good.
you fall long after you need each other, ardently. despite being intertwined, despite being skin to skin, he's so far away from you, yet so close you can reach his chest, his sturdy forearm. you can reach his lips.
everything condenses, and you seem to be holding your breath. your stomach tenses and something furious flutters in your belly. rises hot through your bloodstream and you find it desperately luring closer to you, moaning “i'm close.”
the motion of his pounding change and become more violent and faster. “oh, god,” you whimper, feeling yourself collapsing. hands pushing on his stomach before he holds both wrists with one of his.
“be a nice girl for me.”
“ji, please.”
your head lolls back as you feel his cock pounding into you roughly. sharp thrusts eliciting sounds out of you. his big hands cupping your breasts as they bounce rhythmically every time he rocks his dick deep, not being able to fully put it out before coming back in. “fuck, you sound so good, angel. fuck.” he's blushed, mouth is part open and tongue slightly sticking out, in a deep state of ecstasy feeling you around him. “f-fuck.” he takes your leg and passes it over his shoulder, and you see the torturous grimace he makes when a shudder strike you so hard that you cry.
your hand covers your mouth when everything comes down. suddenly everything is overwhelming, rousing. your eyes see through your eyelashes to jisung staring at you, so deep in the intoxicating sensation of being full of you, and you being full of him too, you feel it.
you almost see the resemblance. in the brown hair, in the shape of their mouth kissing you. the way they tend to hold you the same way, frowning at you with saddened eyes from being close, drunk in you, but somehow greeny; as if he still possesses innocence to give you if you ask for it.
the feeling they're both in love with you.
yet so different. from the way they both end and begin, despite everything. if you close your eyes, you barely notice the similarity. if you close your eyes, you let yourself go and just feel.
bodies intertwined. mixed sighs. needy kisses. faster and faster, accelerating the pace of his thrusts, sinking hos fingers deeper into your skin until leaving his fingerprints tattooed, sinking into his neck when you feel the expected tingling of being close to the edge, undoing your inside and freeing a thousand wild sensations.
his cock is sweetly pressed into the swelling of your core when he starts to rub your clit with his eyes glued in your features contracting in a shattering pleasure. feeling all your body tensing and your teeth grinding into each other before the big o that explode your senses into a thousand pieces. dissolving around him in spasms that release waves and waves of liquid pleasure that wet his crotch and make him lose his mind.
you're still throbbing when he moans in your mouth as he kisses you, lips colliding with tiredness as you feel him move in and out, pacing the rhythm. your breath trembles from being so sensitive, yet you willingly spread your legs for him to bury deeper. “don't stop.”
your eyes water when he starts sucking your tit while roaming your sides. skin bristling as your fingers draw a line from his arm to the nape of his neck, combing his hair as he begins to penetrate you again. his hoarse voice making you shudder when you hear him moaning against your chest, fogging your skin.
“making me feel so good, angel.” your mouth parts open as he passes an arm under you and arches you toward him, tucking one of your breasts between his lips, using the new grip to make you go down full to his cock, sinking his teeth in the sweet skin of your tits.
he fucks you raw and your blood runs hot. moving you with ease to rest on your side as he align his cock and slide into your pillowy walls drenched in arousal, making you bite the pillow when he hits a different angle.
your intimacy burns sweetly, feeling the enticing sensation of his thickness filling you up every time he pounds into you with rough thrusts. his pelvis collide forcefully against the full skin of your thigh over his leg that your eyes cloud with tears of raw pleasure, buzzing inside.
the constant pounding of his length coated in your slick producing a squelching sound doesn't leave your mind as you come closer and closer to the edge. drowning out a hoarse groan as his warm hand lands on your belly and climbs up your chest to squeeze your breast before interlocking your fingers with his; then you remember the reason, and it makes you go numb from head to toe.
he feels the burning need to hold your hand when he's close.
your skin looks scarlet from the spanking caused by the hand that now holds you tightly while he accelerates the thrusts, getting audibly desperate. his breathing accompanies the sounds that slip from his open mouth as he tries to keep up, deep moans and elongated words leave his lips before he bites it once he sees you guiding his fingers down your clit as you touch yourself. your eyes fluttering and emitting a moan so exquisite that jisung explodes in spasms.
a sharp sensation expands through your body when he lets out the best sound you've ever heard, starting throbbing along with his cock just before he pulls out late and spills his seed on your entrance. you bite your lip feeling the warm cum between your fingers as you massage your sore core.
it's late at midnight when you pass your leg over his chest and gaze at him with crimson cheeks as he stare at the mess. and although his features seem tender to you, his eyes are darkened with pure perversity when he leans over you and make you go on top now.
“wanna stay a little longer?” he smiles lazily as he reaches for a condom, knowing he can't be trusted now. however, it's perhaps the evil and mischievous sparkle in his eyes that tell you that he already had it in mind.
do you seem like a dream now? something as tangible as it is real. or has it all been in his head, like all the times before?
his eyes half-closed with glee lethargy follow the path your lips do when going dangerously down to stimulate his cock with your mouth, and you finally fall into realization. “if you beg...”
between the two brothers, you should've dated jisung instead.
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myfictionaldreams · 11 months ago
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Merry Christmas // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader
Summary: It was a simple question: Have you been naughty or nice this year?
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dom/sub, costumes/roleplay, rough oral (f and m receiving), rough sex, size kink, praise kink, choking, sir kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, subspace, aftercare
A/N: Hello everyone! Sorry, it's been a while since I've posted; I promise to get back to requests at some point. Until then, I just wanted to post a little something and to say Merry Christmas to those who celebrate and Happy Holidays to everyone else!
Words: 2.8k
my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link
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Winter was one of your utterly favourite months just for moments like the one you were currently experiencing. The snow layered thickly against the outside of your home, causing a darkened shadow on the inside, which only meant that the blazing fire lit the sitting area in beautiful deep orange and red. The sweet smell of hot cocoa wafted from the kitchen, only making your smile grow as you pulled the fluffy blanket further up your body until the only exposed part of you was your face.
Your back nuzzled further into the soft cushions of the coach you were waiting patiently on, watching the movie with half interest as the comfort of the moment had you wanting to drift into sleep. What’s more was that the meetings that had been planned for later in the evening had inevitably been cancelled due to the freezing weather, which meant that you knew you could sit in with your two boyfriends without the fear of them being out on the dangerous roads, just to attend a threatening meeting.
They were home. Safe. With you.
Blinking open an eye and looking around the room, it dawned on you that they’d been gone from your side for so long that the parts of the cushions they’d been sitting on had turned cold. You’d been drifting between sleep and trying to cuddle closer to them for an hour when Bucky shifted, causing a groan to burst from your throat.
He’d simply kissed your temple tenderly, earning a much-deserved smile in return as he explained that he would make the three of you hot cocoa. Steve had then mumbled something about helping him, but you were too busy trying to reposition your body and get used to not having them squishing either side of you.
Sitting up slightly on the couch, you glanced briefly over the back towards where the kitchen was to see if you could spot either Steve or Bucky, but neither were in sight.
“What’s taking you both so long? I’m getting so cold and lonely out here without you”, you shouted idly with a hint of a whine for emphasis. As you stared up at the TV attached to the wall above the fireplace, you contemplated what film the three of you could watch tonight when you became distracted by the footsteps coming from the kitchen. Frowning, you began to shout, “What took you both so … long?”
Any words you were thinking of asking were swiftly forgotten as your view of the TV was replaced by both of your boyfriends, each standing in oversized Santa trousers, each held up by black suspenders over their shoulders. The red velvet material that covered their strong legs was cuffed with thick white fluff around the ankles and waistline. However, your attention wasn’t forced on this as your eyes squinted, not quite believing the detail; “Have you oiled your chests?” you asked quietly, throat suddenly thick with saliva.
Bucky smirked, tensing his pecs so that you could see the oil's gleam better in the fire's orange light. In any other situation, you might have laughed at the fact that they looked like wannabe Santa strippers, but your pussy was being a traitor with the deep pulse that had your thighs clenching with the desperate need to find some relief.
The baby oil that covered the top half of their naked body seemed to extenuate the god-like bodies they both had, the muscles over their arms and abs flexing with the subtle movements they were both making. Even Bucky’s metal arm was oiled, causing the silver shade to shimmer and gleam.
Your head swivelled between admiring the both of them, unsure what to say or how to act. Thankfully, Steve was the first to speak, his thumbs hooking into the base of the black suspenders as he asked in a deep, gravely voice, “Have you been naughty or nice this year?”
Your lips automatically flicked up at the corners to a teasing smile, but the single eyebrow raised by Steve had you falling right into the trap. All the thoughts that had crossed your mind to laugh and joke with them had quickly melted into the submissive, needy girlfriend that they both wanted.
“Um, nice - I think, " you respond before biting your lower lip, a move that had both Steve and Bucky reaching forward, but the latter made first contact, his metal thump gently easing out the lip from between your teeth.
“Nice huh? You sure about that, Doll?” Bucky asked, his fingers firmly holding your chin so you could not look away from him.
You shivered as Steve eased away the blanket, and even though the room wasn’t cold, the sensations pulsing through your core had your body overreacting. Your eyes had drifted over to Steve, who had squatted to be closer to your height, but a sharp tug on your chin from Bucky had your attention back on him as you tried to form the words to respond to him. “Ye-yes. Yes, I’ve been nice”.
A sharp gasp left your mouth as a quick tug of your nipple from Steve had your body shifting upright. With your arousal building, your nipples had pebbled beneath the thin, oversized top that you wore. Bucky’s eyes seemed to darken as he watched your reaction, the subtle way your hips ground on the couch.
“Really? Because from what I’ve seen, it looks like you’re being a very naughty girl right now. Tell me, Sweetheart, what do you want for Christmas?”
“You”, your response was instantaneous, and it seemed to be the correct answer with the way Bucky smiled down at you before releasing your chin.
“Well, it still remains to be seen if you’ve really been a good girl”, Bucky emphasised the last two words, knowing just how those words stroke the deep praise kink that further warmed your pussy, your wetness beginning to coat your lips and drench your shorts.
“Pl-please let me prove it. I want to be both of yours, good girl.” You look between where Bucky still stood above you, and Steve knelt at your side.
“That’s the thing, Sweetheart. The boss down there seems to agree with you. He thinks you’ve been a good girl all year round for his treats, but me? I’m not convinced; I think I need you to show me just how good you can be”, Bucky explains with darkness lacing his words. “Stand up”, he orders, full of authority. You do, being careful not to knock into Steve as you stand with enough speed that you are somewhat lightheaded. Both of their hands were on you in a split second. Steve grabbed the waistline of your shorts, and Bucky pulled the shirt up and over your head until the two of them had you standing completely bare.
Ungracefully, Bucky pushed against your shoulder, forcing you to sit back onto the warm cushions, looking up at him with wide eyes. A gentle tremor was pulsing through your body with anticipation of what was to come. Your cunt would have been soaked just from the way they were both acting, but with the outfits as well, you were near feral with need.
Bucky’s warm hand gently wrapped around your throat, his thumb and forefinger on either side of your neck, feeling the galloping pace of your heartbeat as you stared up at him. “Will you do everything I say?” he asks with a more gentler tone than before.
“Yes, sir”, you say, voice laced with desperation.
“Good, then I need you to ignore everything that Boss is going to do to you. The only thing I want you to do is to keep your eyes on me”.
“Yes, sir”.
With great ease, Bucky pushed against your neck, forcing you to sit back correctly against the cushions as he began to stand on the couch, just as Steve moved between your legs on the floor, lifting them until your legs lay over his shoulders.
With the oil, your legs wanted to slip off, so his massive hands had to grip onto the flesh of your thighs, keeping them thoroughly in place as he lowered his face to the heat and wetness that was begging for his touch.
As his tongue caressed the length of your pussy, drinking down the juices you’d seeped in the moments of seeing them in the outfits, your moan was cut off by the light squeeze around your throat from Bucky as he subtly reminded you of his demand. Your eyes moved away from Steve and up to the tall, foreboding figure above you as Bucky’s metal hand drifted to his suspenders, pushing them off each shoulder.
“Remember what I said. I want you to ignore him down there and keep your eyes on me. Now, why don’t you prove to me why you should be on the nice list?”. 
You were unsure if, by ignoring, he meant for you not to moan or react to Steve’s tongue as it circled your swollen bundle of nerves, but it was damn near impossible to be silent as the waves of toe-curling pleasure sparked through your core. However, your mouth was now salivating for another reason as Bucky pushed the red velvet material down his hips until midthigh, and the thick, veined cock of your boyfriend was throbbing in the air before your face.
Resting your hands on Bucky’s thicks and licking your lips whilst also trying not to crush Steve with your thighs, you willed Bucky to come closer with a pathetic squeak. Thankfully, he removed his hand from your throat and rested it on the back of the couch, using it to lower his body and directing his cock to your mouth. You didn’t waste a second before licking around the tip, gathering all the precum into your mouth before swallowing the salty goodness down, swiftly followed by a few inches of his hard length.
Bucky’s sigh was praise enough to have you feeling sated and happy as you began to pleasure him with your tongue and mouth, almost matching the movements of Steve between your legs.
“That’s it, just a little more; I know you can take it”, Bucky encouraged with a firm hand on the back of your head. As his cock reached the back of your throat and the overwhelming urge to gag overcame you, you attempted to relax your throat to take him deeper, which thankfully worked, ignoring the tears that now lined your eyes from the stimulation.
It didn’t help matters that your throat kept spasming with the moans and whines from Steve’s treatment of your pussy. He was eating you like the man was starved. Devouring is the best way to describe the way he was licking you out. His tongue changed from delving into the depths of your soaking cunt, twisting and turning to stimulate all the nerves within, just to then pull out and his teeth to gently graze your clit, causing a throb from your walls which was the gently eased by his tongue once more.
It took almost no time at all before you were cumming into his mouth with a flush of heat and added wetness that coated his chin and cheeks. Steve didn’t stop, though, and used your overstimulation post-orgasm to draw you closer to a second orgasm.
Your nails digging into the soft material of Bucky’s Santa trousers helped to keep your ground and not drown in the overwhelming length that was still forcing down your throat. With all the time you’d been with Steve and Bucky, you’d thankfully been able to train your throat to be fucked and take more of their length compared to when you were first with Steve.
This feat was a minor miracle because when Bucky began to take control of the situation and gyrated his hips so that he was now just straight-up, fucking your throat, it meant that you were able to breathe through your nose at the correct times without panicking.
Saliva had filled your mouth from the fucking and was steadily dripping down your chin, causing obscene sloppy noises to come from you, but this only added more praising groans from Bucky as you knew he loved a sloppy blowjob.
“Fuck, you’re being such a good girl, Doll. Remember what I said, eyes on me only”. You tried to nod, but the cock in your mouth hindered your movements as your eyes remained focused on the buzz-cut brunette standing over you.
This became more difficult as you noticed movement out of the corner of your eye as you came for the third time. Steve was beginning to straighten his height but remained on his knees; however, your legs were lowered until wrestling around his waist, but his grip remained tight and firm, keeping them in place.
Without warning, immense pressure and stretching of your cunt began to contort your body as Steve began to fuck into your cunt. Thankfully Bucky pulled out enough that you could gasp without his cock filtering the noise as your eyes clenched shut from the welcomed intrusion. Inch after inch filled your empty hole until his hips were flush against yours.
As you and Steve both released a relieved sigh, the dominating hand on the back of your head began to firmly tug your lips closer to Bucky’s cock once more until you were full with both of them.
The two worked together like they did in every aspect of the word. One of them remained in your body as the other pulled out. In out, in out, they fucked you until you were a trembling, wet mess.
Thankfully, now, they were both heavily praising you, which was like sweet music to your ears.
“Taking my cock so well”.
“Fuck, you always make me feel so good. Yes, just like that”.
“Such a good girl, Doll. I know you wanna cum on Steve’s cock; do it. Cum for him”.
You did. Many times, in fact. Steve had you cuming so many times that you’d lost count as a sweet warmth wrapped around your brain, leaving you feeling like you weren’t in your mundane house anymore but amongst the clouds, floating endlessly in pleasure. Your hands had dropped to your side as all of your energy was now being reserved for sucking Bucky’s cock and taking the punishing pace of Steve’s.
Eventually, Steve was the first to cum with a harsh grunt and snap of his hips as heat and thick wetness flooded into your cunt. He remained in place, holding your legs around his waist as his cock began to soften.
Bucky’s chest was now glistening with both sweat and oil as his eyebrows pinched together, his cheeks rosy with a flush as he groaned deeply, “I’m cumming, holy shit-”. You did gag this time as his entire cock bulged into your throat, the whisps of trimmed hair on his pubic mount tickling your nose as he came.
You worked hard to swallow every drop of him down until your lungs were burning for breath, and he gently eased out of your aching jaw. Your mouth tingled as you licked your swollen lips, sure that if you tried to talk now, all that you’d be able to achieve is a dreadful, deep, gravely voice.
Bucky leapt off the couch, disappearing into another direction you were too tired to follow. Thankfully, Steve remained with you as he carefully repositioned the two of you so that he now sat in the middle of the seat and had you sitting in his lap. Your head felt heavy as it lulled against his slipped chest, but you still hummed in contentment as he kissed your forehead sweetly whilst wrapping his strong hands around your shoulders.
“Hey, Sweetheart, I need you to drink some of this; it’ll help your throat”, Bucky encouraged a few moments later as he sat next to the two of you with a mug of steaming hot cocoa. Steve helped lift your head as Bucky held the drink out, tipping it slightly so that you could drink a couple of sips, moaning at the chocolatey sweet taste and the warmth that did soothe your sore throat.
“Well done, just a little more”, Steve whispered against your cheek as he lay delicate kisses against your sensitive skin.
Finally, with the drink gone, Bucky leaned closer to you, giving your lips a much-deserved kiss before pulling away with a cheeky glint in his eye. “So, do you like the outfits? They were Nat’s idea. Pretty sure she meant it as a joke”, he wondered out loud, but your giggle and nod recaptured his attention.
“I loved them”, you whispered with a voice thick with tiredness and evidence from being thoroughly fucked.
“Good, because I can’t wait to see what you’ll look like in the outfit we bought you. We think you’d be the perfect match to be Mrs Clause, but I must admit, there was significantly less material”, Steve explained as his fingers massaged into your still aching legs.
“I can’t wait, but maybe tomorrow”, you admit tiredly, relaxing further into the arms of both of them. 
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elsecrytt · 3 months ago
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satoru gojo knows he's not wanted. only needed - a weapon for killing curses and curse users, day in and day out, the lynchpin of jujutsu society.
he's fine with that, most of the time. the truth is, when suguru left, he thought that was the end for him. he was never very good at friendship in the first place, at making people like him.
he has a difficult personality, and he doesn't want to change. people willing to deal with him as he was were few and far between, and they never had that immediate connection like he did with suguru.
even if it left him unbearably lonely. it's just not in his nature to mince words, to hold back, to play nice. if he couldn't be satoru gojo, then what else did he have left?
and it's fine, most of the time.
but some of the time, it's not. it's really, really not. sometimes, it's worth it to try, just the tiniest bit, not to be a complete ass and drive away a pretty face who seems unbothered by his attitude.
that's how he ends up with you - a non-sorcerer. he hasn't told you about sorcery in general and doesn't want you to know.
to him, your shared penthouse is his safe space. he never walks or drives there, only ever teleports so that no one can trace him there. no one, not even at the school, knows that he primarily lives there.
he spends every spare hour (sometimes even just ten minute) he can there. finishing missions early, darting off after lessons, eating there whenever he can.
satoru only sleeps whenever you sleep. he never showers alone, never does his nighttime routine on his own.
that's all precious time he could be spending at your side.
washing your hair, your face, cleaning up alongside you. laughing and splashing and making a little more of a mess if he can get away with it.
here, there are no curses, no former friends turned traitor, no one who needs his help.
you smile as soon as you see him, hear him, run up to hug him if your hands are free.
he's on the lock screen of your phone. once or twice he's caught you just staring at it, delight painted all over your lips.
all you want from him is his company -
and god, is he ever aware, you're the only one alive who does.
most of his coworkers dislike him to various degrees. even his students have mixed feelings about him sometimes.
he does his best, he really does, but he can't bring himself to get attached to someone who might one day leave.
you won't, though (you can't), so he's free to love you all he wants.
he'll freely confess - he's overcompensating. pouring all the missed opportunities to bond, all the awkward moments where his attitude turned other people away, into the dam that is your relationship.
you don't mind his funky schedule (too much), you're a huge homebody who likes having date nights at home.
you smooth off all the rough edges of his personality - the arrogance, the smarmy comments - with a laugh and a taunt, a hand in his hair that he can't help but lean into like the domesticated pet he is.
god, he loves you. he loves you so, so much, unreasonably so - loves coming home to a "satoru! welcome back~", loves bringing home meals from different places and watching you try them with delight (you joke that his mysterious job must be as a delivery man, which he laughs at more than he should), loves coming home to your unnecessary attempts at cooking every now and then, something indescribable curling in his chest.
he loves sitting and talking with you about the latest show you're watching, telling you about his "coworkers" and "juniors" (sometimes he has to stop himself from giggling about it) and how annoying his latest day at work was.
sometimes it's sort of vague and vapid but it's fun when it's with you. sometimes it's deeper stuff, real stuff ("my oldest friend passed away recently" "one of my juniors at work has a complicated family situation") and you seem to always know just what to say. talking to you always makes him feel better.
he worries, sometimes, that he's not as good to you as you are to him. he tries - god, does he try - to show you the extent of his love, if he can't afford the words or time, then in deeds.
you're taken care of for the rest of your life, that was a given. the penthouse is in your name, various trusts set up in the impossible event of his death.
you have full access to a joint account that was actually just yours, set up for you by him - he just didn't feel like trying to convince you to accept the money.
he buys you things, of course. food mostly, to eat together, but also little trinkets and manga and souvenirs of the various places he goes to. little pieces of his life to share with you.
and when he can, he does do dates. every second he gets to spend with you is like gold, and he spends them all fully invested, eyes locked on you and yours, walking on air the entire time just from your presence. ready to talk about anything you had an interest in.
he's just that infatuated. satoru could talk for days to anyone, but you're the only one who'd listen, who'd chatter back just as enthusiastically. he wants you on speed dial every moment he's away.
shopping trips, too, he's always happy to play dress up, to dutifully compliment you even though privately he thinks you look best without any clothes -
and that, too, he does for you. he makes no secret of his affection for your body. spares not even a second getting to his knees, nuzzling against your thigh, cheeks flushed as he looks up at you with pleading eyes won't you feed me, pretty please, i'm starving~
he shows you he loves you. with hands and mouth and body, as a sorcerer should. silent curses falling from his lips as his body joins to yours.
it seems almost cruel of you to let him have this. why can't he live here forever? why can't he always be inside you?
satoru gojo knows he is the absolute last person who should be complaining about this, but why is life so unfair?
why can't he spend every minute of every day by your side? touching you? talking to you?
in his wildest dreams he's not killing curses or sorcerers or changing the world.
he's in bed with you, by your side from the moment he wakes up to the moment he falls asleep. that's his dream, just you being there, always.
he worries most of all what he'd do if you ever fought.
you're not the type - you "need space to calm down" sometimes, which is usually just you going back to your room. you "want to have a calm discussion" where you sit and listen to him and talk about feelings, and you have this way of making him talk.
you're good at communicating, at making people feel better, and understanding others. sensitive in a way that he's not.
you're never out to hurt him, even when he can tell his time away is grating on you, his constant absences and flightiness rightly off-putting.
you never argue with him, never make demands, and that's how you got together in the first place, the perfect match.
(it scares him, really, being made for battle as he is. where's your fighting spirit? wouldn't you cry and scream and beg if he was going to leave you? wouldn't you go to war for your love? he knows he would.)
but deep down he knows it's there. a massive part of his life is hidden from you - things that are important to him; his mission, his students, his power.
he doesn't know what to do, really.
he wants to keep you safe, unworried. he wants to keep this island of peaceful, mundane happiness in his life.
he wants you to love him, wholly and completely, for all that he is. he wants to hear you tell him he's doing it right. that you're proud of him.
there's so much he wants now, compared to when his life was just teaching students, killing curses, and waiting for the day he'd have to kill his only friend.
satoru isn't sure which one is better. because even though he hopes he can have you how he wants, and the rest of his life too -
he's starting to think it might not be possible.
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huntersrequiem-if · 1 year ago
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Hunter's Requiem
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demo [HERE] | forum [tba]
dark fantasy, horror (?), romance
CW: violence, gore
You are a minor deity of the Hunt, known by your followers as The Hunter, used by the other Higher Beings as The Hound. The All-Seeing Sun had given you countless tasks over your existence.
Yet one day, while on a mission sent out by him, you were summoned and judged for treason. The punishment left you mangled; your magic ripped off.
Cast away, you went into a deep sleep to recover.
After centuries you awoke to find your name spoken in whispers in the darkest nights. The Traitor. The world has changed, yet you still have true believers who await your awakening.
Will you be successful in your revenge? Will you be able to topple the gods or will you try to live in peace?
Features:
Play as male, female, nonbinary.
Your choices will affect the fate of your followers.
Befriend, romance or even antagonize a wide cast of characters.
Have a loyal shadowy companion by your side.
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Astaroth [M]
"And to think I hated you. Now I can’t imagine living a single day without you.”
Your “other half”, attached to your psyche. He is content to stay in the backseat and offer comments. Tall and lean with gray skin. His face is sharp and angular, eyes with black sclera and white iris. Long black straight hair parted only by his antlers. His hands are black, tipped with long claws. The gradient loses color the closer it gets to his elbow. When he grins at you, you see beast-like teeth glinting in the light.
The Beloved Moon [F]
"That was the worst mistake I ever made. Please, I will do anything you want for you to forgive me.”
Moon has a curious interest in you. Since the moment she saw you, she had sought any chance to talk with you.
A short woman with deep blue skin and freckles that shine like stars. Her skin is shifting between deep blue and purple. She has a round face with full lips and a button nose. Round eyes with black sclera and bright blue iris stare at you with curiosity. Her long curly hair is white with pale blue streaks. Massive white feathered wings cover her back, sometimes used to cover her body like a cloak. Her smile might be gentle but the sharp fangs showed less so.
The Eternal Night [NB]
“I have turned a blind eye to the world far too long. I will no longer allow anything to happen to you.”
The Eternal Night is a distant person. Even more towards the other gods, yet for you they show a kinder side. They are tall and slender. Their sharp face is softened by full lips and expressive eyes. They have dark grey skin paired with stark white hair, that reaches their chin. The wavy strands frame their face nicely. Their eyes-- black sclera with crimson iris—are often covered by their mask. Massive black wings sprout from their back, and then the light catches the feathers right they look more blue than dark.
Santana [F/M]
"Why is it that every time I look at you I feel that I have known you for lifetimes? Why does my soul yearn for you?"
A priest you met in your past, a rather interesting person with a stubborn brand of kindness.
Tawny skin sprinkled with freckles. Golden hair is kept in a braid, far away from their face, yet a few strands escape and frame their heart-shaped face. Expressive eyes look at you, their blue gaze shining brightly.
They stand at an average height, donning the white and golden robes of the priests of Sun. Over that, they wear a chainmail.
You thought you lost them to the sands of time.
??? [F/M]
“Do you have any idea how long I prayed to see you, to hear your voice?”
Every day, they're slipping farther, their grip on the edge of the chasm growing fragile. Can you drag them back or will you shove them off?
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realisticjupiter · 8 months ago
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Hi omg I’ve stumbled across your account and love it! Could you do a chishiya fic with reader that’s friends with arisu and Usagi. When chishiya betrays them reader also feels betrayed (he was just trying to protect them tho) so they don’t trust him then they somehow end up in Jack of hearts game and he has to convince reader to trust him. Maybe he does a lil confession. Sorry my English isn’t great.
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ꔫ ⸝⸝ summary: chishiya tries to get you to trust him, even after what he did at the beach.
ꔫ ⸝⸝ pairing: chishiya x gn!reader
ꔫ ⸝⸝ genre: fluff
ꔫ ⸝⸝ warnings: none
ꔫ ⸝⸝ word count: 660
A/N: Your English is great, thank you so much for the request! I kinda hate this but hopefully you guys have a better perspective then I do!
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Chishiya didn't care about anyone but himself, and you had to find out the hard way.
The way he stared at you across the room as Niragi kicked and yelled at Arisu, shaming him for being so stupid. It was infuriating. You could feel his smirk digging into your skin, his lips whispering words of betrayal.
You were lucky, Chishiya told you to stick with Kuina. You wouldn't get hurt, he knew that, but you didn't.
It was hard to listen to anything around you when you realized this entire game was about trust, the collar on your neck clicking when you entered the Jack of Hearts.
The Cheshire man in front of you tried to convince you that you could trust each other, claiming we've never done each other wrong.
You scoffed as Chishiya continued to speak. "What?" He asked, raising a brow as he ate the cookies in hand.
"We can trust each other? Seriously?" You stared at him, brows curled together as you spoke. "After what you pulled at the beach, I'm doubting that statement is even true." That's when he realized exactly what this was about, and he couldn't say he blamed you.
"You didn't get caught." He stated matter-a-factly, eyeing his snack in hand to see how many were left inside.
"I could've!" You snapped back, your words were harsh and it was clearly visible to Chishiya how angry you were.
"This isn't the best game to doubt each other's trustworthiness." Chishiya sighed, looking up to catch your eye. He tilted his head to the side as he did so.
"I don't care. It was pathetic, Chishiya. Arisu could've died." You rolled your eyes, standing from the table to walk away.
Chishiya stood up and followed closely behind you, watching the people pass with narrow eyes.
As you walked past one of the cells to walk anywhere but near him, a hand grabbed onto your arm and pulled you inside; gaining a shocked gasp from your lips.
"What the hell?" You groaned, standing in front of Chishiya with a far more annoyed expression than earlier.
"You didn't get caught because I didn't let you." He crossed his arms, waiting for you to interrupt him; but you didn't.
"Why do you think I told you to be on watch with Kuina? Because I knew she wouldn't be treated like a traitor." He spoke again, breathing sharp throughout his nose.
"Why?" You asked, your voice calming down as you spoke.
Chishiya sighed at the question, his eyes now avoiding yours as his brain moved faster than he could handle.
"Because--" He paused, unable to find the words; if there even was any.
You stood patient, waiting for him to finish his abandoned sentence.
"Because, I actually like you." He admitted, sliding his arms down into pockets. His eyes now on yours, studying your face with a fear of rejection.
"I thought you didn't like getting attached? What happened to that?" You asked with genuine curiosity, wondering what he saw in you that he couldn't see in anyone else.
He almost laughed at your words, shaking his head with a small smirk as he looked down at his feet. "You're smart. I'm sure you'll see why." He grinned, looking up at you.
You scoffed, but couldn't help the growing smile on your face. "Okay, genius. Just because you like me doesn't mean we're even." You laughed. "But--I don't really have a choice. And sure, I will trust you. Just for this game, until I figure out feelings of my own." You nodded, crossing your arms against your chest.
Chishiya nodded, taking in every word you had to offer. "Okay." He replied, sticking his hand out as if asking for a handshake.
Your smile widened at his open hand, completely ignoring it to pull him into the soft embrace of a kiss. A kiss he found himself melting into--a kiss he wished would never end.
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reposts and comments are appreciated<3
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hihomeghere · 9 months ago
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maybe javier with 19 please? "You're leaving now?" like a final night at beaver hollow?
Arthur's words rang out in your head, ‘leave while you can, before you end up on the wrong end of a bullet.’ You knew the gang was coming to an end, anyone with eyes could see that. The way Micah would whisper into the ear of anyone who would listen, tainting them with his foul speech. Talk of traitors, and rats were said in hushed whispers around camp. Especially ever since Molly, poor girl. 
You don’t know when you made the decision to leave, one night you couldn’t take it anymore. Couldn’t take the whispers, couldn’t take how Arthur looked worse everyday, couldn’t take how the man you loved was slipping through your fingers. 
“You’re leaving, now?” Javier’s voice cut through the silence. You jumped, calming your mare with a gentle pat as you attached everything she could carry to her rump. You turned to face him, biting your lip as you met his cold gaze.
“I can’t stay here any longer.” You said shaking your head, tightening the ropes around your things, making sure they were secure. After all the nights you two had spent together you’d think after all the nights when words weren’t needed, you’d know what to say to him. But those nights were long gone, he may have returned from Guarma, but the man you loved died there. Buried six feet underground with the rest of your friends.
“After everything Dutch has done for you?” He said, throwing his hands up, “You’re gonna leave him when he needs us most?” His brows furrowed as he glared at you. Why was everything about Dutch? ‘What happened to us?’ You wanted to scream, scream until your throat was sore.
“Dutch has done nothing but get us all killed.” You spit, “I ain’t gonna be next.” You said, shaking your head.
“Don’t say that.” He growled, his hand closing around your wrist. The same hand that had carefully attended to cuts and bullet wounds now crushing your wrist in a bruising grip.
“Say what?” You scoffed, “The truth?”
“It isn’t the truth!” He said his voice rising, his brown eyes black in the moonlight. His hold on your wrist tightened, pulling a small whimper out of your lips.
“You’re hurting me.” You whispered, watching for a split second as his expression softened. His brows tilting upwards, his mouth parting softly. And in an instant it was gone. He threw your arm away from him, scoffing as he shook his head. 
“If I find out it was you I’ll-“ He started holding his hand up as words cut through you like a knife. 
“What? Kill me?” You spit, stalking over to him. The moonlight illuminates the two of you through the breaks in the trees. “Is that the solution to everything now?” You said through gritted teeth. “You seriously believe I’d sell out my friends, my family?” You asked, your brows knitted together.
“Don’t talk to me about family.” He spit, “I’m the one sticking to my family.” He said baring his teeth like a wild animal, your eyes catching the glint of his blade in the moonlight.
“Do it.” You said raising your head, your voice trembling, “Slit my throat. Kill the ‘traitor’.” He glared at you, his knuckles white as he held his knife. The tension between the two of you was cut only by the whinny of your horse. 
“Get out of here.” He muttered, looking off into the distance. You didn’t have to be told twice, you turned quickly walking back to your horse. Grabbing her reigns as you swung your leg over her back. 
“What happened to us Javier?” You asked, tears pricking your eyes.
“This is bigger than us.” He said, his cold gaze meeting your tearful one. “Why can’t you see that?” 
It was gone, the love that you shared had been gone for a long time and you were too naive to see it. 
“Good bye Javier.” You said with a nod, snapping the reigns of your horse as you set off down the dirt road.
Javier watched as you faded from view, something he hadn’t felt since Guarma bubbling up in his chest.
Hopelessness.
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storydays · 1 year ago
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A silly little request from anon.
What if while in Gristles and Bridgets wedding, John Dory’s daughter (y/n) was found by Branch, thinking that she was lost and shocked that his older brother had a kid. (actually JD just lost her in the woods while hunting for food. Branch knew that Y/n is jd’s kid cuz of the looks) JD AND Y/N, FATHER-DAUGHTER REUNION. But also angst, since y/n didn’t know anything about her father
sorry my english is bad
When Will I See You Again?
John Dory X Daughter!Reader
Branch X Niece! Reader
BROPPY
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(15 years ago)
“Yeah, yeah! Baby girl, wait until you try Big Daddy’s gumbo!” a 30 year old John Dory laughed loudly as he mixed some vegetables and yak burger meat in a pan, making faces at his 8 month old daughter who giggled from her playpen.
It’d been the two of them since Kyomi, John’s wife of 15 years, passed during labor. It still hurt but John still had a reason to smile everyday:  you. 
You were a perfect combination of himself and your mother; although you took his smile and hair color, you took your mother’s calming personality and you both had that cute little gap between your front teeth. Your mother was an R&B Troll, one of the subgenres of Pop and Funk Trolls, who lived on a small island between Pop Village and Vibe City.
John Dory came across her during his journey of self discovery and Kyomi helped him break out of the role of oldest brother and the leader role, and helped him to understand why his brothers’ reacted the way they did. Together they then traveled around the world, looking for his siblings. But once John had seen how happy his brothers were, he’d decided to keep his distance, they didn’t need him anymore. 
John snapped out of his thoughts when he smelled something burning. “Ah sugar!” He yelled as he moved you further away from the campfire and hurriedly put the water out. 
Once the fire was out, he turned to check you over, but you were fine, and not even paying attention to him anymore, instead you were facing away from him, playing with the necklace around your neck and babbling to yourself. John sighed softly and walked over to your crib and watched you play for a few minutes.
“Well, that gumbo is going to have to be made another day, darlin’. How about a breakfast dinner?” He asked, before grabbing you up, making you squeal in surprise, and put you in the baby carrier before heading out into the forest for more wood.
*timeskip*
You babbled along as John Dory sang softly under his breath, as he gathered wood, when a loud screech startled you both. 
John cursed under his breath before rushing off, trying to get you both to safety when a claw scratched against him, making him trip, and hiss as he pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the deep scratches, before he felt his blood run cold when he realized you were no longer attached to him. 
“Nonononono!” He yelled, chasing after the bird before he tripped over a tree branch and face planted in the dirt, rushing to get up, yelling your name, hoping something could help him.
But the bird was far from his reach and so were you.
John Dory fell to his knees before an harsh sob escaped him as he started to wail in despair, calling for you desperately:
“(Y/N)!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
*Fastforward to present day*
“GOOD MORNING, UNCLE BRANCH!” You squealed, as you saw your uncle yawning. He chuckled softly, accepting the cup of coffee you were offering him.. “Hey, firefly. You ready for a royal wedding?” “You mean the one where Aunt Poppy and Aunt Bridget tried to dress me up as an actual flower?” 
Branch snorted in his coffee. “Oh yeah, Poppy showed me the pictures.” “It’s not funny, traitor!” You huffed, pouting and crossed your arms. Branch chuckled again making you smile before turning back to your journal, which was filled with different Troll fashion designs for each tribe. Branch started to make breakfast before peeking over your shoulder.
“Wow, (Y/N)! These are amazing!” You smiled brightly, you always did when people complimented your work. “Thanks! I was so excited for the wedding today, I got so inspired! Can you guess what the theme is?”
“Hmm,” Branch hummed, as he got the ingredients ready for breakfast. He smirked to himself seeing all the hearts and swirls in your designs. “Chesseburgers?” He guessed playfully.
“No!” You giggled, “It’s love. Love comes in all shapes and sizes, Uncle Branch. Sometimes, you just need a little bit of help to find it.” You said softly, fidgeting with the necklace around your neck, and looking over your designs with a thoughtful look. 
Branch studied you carefully, something was bothering you, you wore the same look he distinctly remembers his oldest brother having when he thinking hard. He cleared his throat before asking, “Wanna help me cook?” 
*Timeskip* 
Now dressed in your wedding outfit,( you were the flower girl with Tiny being the flower boy), you stood next to your Uncle, dancing on the balls of your feet excitedly, stars shining in your eyes.
“Now, if there is anyone who objects to this—” “STOP THE WEDDING!” A loud voice screamed, making everyone turn to watch the mysterious Troll parkour their way down to the front of the crowd. Branch pushed you and Poppy behind him, eyeing the new Troll suspiciously. 
“Sorry, sorry, is this a bad time? I’m just looking for a Troll named–” asked the Troll as he pushed his goggles up, before gasping seeing Branch.
“Baby Branch!” The weird man then came up and started rambling about nothing of interest to you, as you could see how much this Troll looked like you and was strangely familiar. But seeing your Uncle uncomfortably trying to get out of the man’s grip.
“Hey! You put my Uncle down right now!” “And tell us who you are!” demanded Poppy, standing tall besides you. Branch groaned as he jumped down. “Oh right, right, sorry. I’m Branch’s brother.” You gasp as Poppy took the lead. 
You studied the new Troll, ignoring the argument between Branch and Poppy, and approached him. “Have we met before?” You asked, ceasing all conversation, not noting Branch bit his lip nervously.
“Now that I think about it……” John trailed off, seeing the necklace around your neck and gasping softly, before pushing your bangs from your face. “(Y/N)?” He asked softly, eyes tearing up. “Um.. yep that’s my name, heh. Says it on my necklace.”
“Oh my God….oh my God! You-you’re alive! “ John Dory laughed in disbelief before hugging you tightly. “I’m alive! I’m alive?” You giggle, hugging him back instinctively before backing away nervously. 
“Of course you wouldn’t remember me…you were just a baby when we got seperated.” John huffed softly, before looking at you with sad fondness. 
“(Y/N).....I’m your dad.”
There's no such thing as silly request :)
PART 2???????
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chlobliviate · 2 months ago
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Wolfstar Microfic - Dementor
Words: 982
@wolfstarmicrofic
🌙✨🌙✨🌙
Remus couldn’t sleep. Something was wrong. He rolled over, taking in the vast empty space on the other side of the bed. He’d known Sirius for ten years. He could be impulsive, arrogant and sometimes even just mean. What he also was, though, was loyal. To a fault, sometimes. Remus just couldn’t recognise the man that he loved in the accusations lodged against him.
Something was very wrong.
He got out of bed, wincing as his bare feet hit the cold floor. If Sirius had been working for Voldemort, there must be something in their flat to verify that. He started in the spare room, which had originally been Sirius’ room until they realised that he hadn’t slept in there for three months, at which point it became the spare room. It still had a lot of Sirius’ stuff in there, though. In boxes under the bed and the wardrobe. There was a lot to go through.
He started under the bed. He found twelve photo albums, which he couldn’t face looking through, and a box full of very racy-looking romance novels. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, but what was the alternative? Just accept that the man who had kissed him on the forehead and told Remus that he was his whole world two days ago had conspired against them and been responsible for the death of three of their closest friends?
The next box Remus pulled out made him stop. In it was a small black chest with an inscription on the lid.
‘This chest, much like mine, will only open for you, Moons.’
Remus choked back a sob as he lifted the chest onto the bed. He ran his finger across the inscription and heard something click within. He was able to open it. He took a deep breath before looking inside. There were several photos of the two of them that Remus was quite glad that Sirius hadn’t put in a photo album and two envelopes.
He opened the first envelope. It was a contract. A contract that passed the role of secret-keeper from Sirius to Peter, and it was dated four months prior. Remus’ head was spinning. That was Pete’s signature, and he could tell from the paper that it had been magically signed too. He needed to take this to Dumbledore, or the Ministry. Someone who could tell if this was real or not. Then he noted the signature of the witness to the contract. Dumbledore. He knew. This made no sense.
He opened the second envelope, hoping for a miracle.
20th September 1981
Dear Moony,
I assume that if you’re reading this, then it’s likely something has happened to me, or maybe you’re just nosier than I thought you were.
I think Pete is the traitor. He became Prongs and Lily’s secret keeper back in June (see attached contract) because he convinced us all that I would be the obvious choice and Voldemort would never suspect him.
Since then I’ve noticed that anything that Pete knows quickly becomes used against the Order. Pete knew that Marlene and her sister would be with their parents last Friday. Only Pete, Dumbledore and I knew that. I certainly didn’t tell anyone, and it would surprise me if Dumbledore did. So that leaves Peter or a very lucky guess from the Death Eaters.
He’s also been in my ear about you. He’s been saying for months how suspicious it is that we aren’t told about your missions in meetings, and how many meetings you miss. I know you, as I hope you know me, and I know that you would never do this.
I have expressed my worries about this to Dumbledore, who knows that Pete is the secret keeper now. He told me that I was being paranoid and that J, L and H are perfectly safe. I hope that’s still the case when you read this.
If something has happened to me, look into Peter. I don’t think Dumbledore will care, so see if Moody will.
I hope I get to see you again.
I love you.
Padfoot
Remus didn’t hesitate before apparating to the Aurors offices.
Alastor Moody got on well with Remus and when he showed up looking distraught in the middle of his night shift, he leapt into action. He took the information from Remus, verified the magic signatures on the contract as belonging to Sirius, Peter and Dumbledore, and left the room. Remus sat in the offices for what felt like weeks, but the sun hadn’t even risen yet. Kingsley had sat with him for a while, telling him what Moody was working on, but Remus couldn’t take much of it in.
Moody appeared after several more long hours. “Remus. We’ve done magical trace tests on the finger we found at the scene. He did that to himself.”
“What are you saying, Alastor?” Remus asked, not wanting to hope too much.
“I’m saying that your man is being released from Azkaban as we speak. The dementors don’t like it, but it’s not their decision. This never should have happened. Shit. He should have had a trial, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how we missed this.”
Remus shook his head, “Dumbledore knew the whole time.”
Moody nodded, “I know. That’s something I urgently need to look into, but I needed to right the wrong first. He’s only been there for a day and a half, but the dementors…”
“I know. I’ll look after him.” Remus said as the fireplace glowed and two men stepped out. Sirius looked pale and his eyes were unfocused. Remus stumbled to his feet and pulled Sirius to him.
“Moons?” His voice was hoarse.
“I’ve got you. You’re alright.” Remus whispered into his hair. “You’re safe.”
“It wasn’t me.”
“I know, love. I found your letter.” Remus kissed the side of Sirius’ head. “I never believed it was you.”
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moodymisty · 3 months ago
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Hey Misty, sorry for the incoming braindump. I read a theory on reddit that the primarchs were partly made from minor gods of the Warp and that the Loyalists were gods that Big E bargained with and who went willingly, while the Traitors were gods he subjugated/tricked somehow. I thought this was really cool and had it on my mind all day. Full-on neuron activation moment. But I don't have any friends who know about 40k to talk about it with so I suppose I will leave some thoughts here :) sorry if this is annoying/unwelcome.
This focuses on the Traitors mostly because I find them very interesting.
Like, what if reader is/was a devout and beloved high-priestess/follower of one of those gods(maybe it's a steadily declining religion, even?) And so when the specific primarch in question fleetingly lays eyes on her for the first time while taking over the world she lives on, there is just this instant feeling of desire/attachment/protectiveness that they don't understand. Maybe the primarch had some kind of silent subconscious urge to go to that planet specifically, because the god has/had worshippers there and it sort of calls out to them. Like divine homesickness lol.
For the Loyalists it would be mostly wholesome and cute tbh. It'd be like they found a piece of themselves that they didn't know was missing. Very meet-cute potential.
But for the Traitors it could be soooo spicy. You get snatched by Curze and it is just a shitshow. Mood swings galore and most of the time you have no idea what you even did to trigger them(your silent prayers for mercy made something in his head feel like it was crawling) I think your take on him being really obsessive and almost desperately clingy(in the most unnerving of ways) fits super well. Whatever entity got diced up and put in the Curze soup was probably a fucking scary one.
I think Perturabo would be really scary too. Although maybe finding someone like that would soothe him somehow? You'd definitely be walking on eggshells with him (at least at first) though. Another one with mood swings. Another scary god, but less "horrific torment to cleanse you of your sins" and more of a "You lesser creatures exist for worship and labor." Maybe that's why he's so pissy, the divine part of him was used to having constant praise and offerings and now he gets almost none.
Angron would be soo tragic. His whole thing was empathy so I think whatever god he has in him/was made from might have been a much more gentle one. He's got one side of him crying out desperately to be near you and the nails raking through him on the other.
Lorgar would be hilarious tbh. A guy made from the blended up remains of a minor Warp deity constantly crowing about you being a goddess (when you were just a humble priestess before lol). It's like this comedically backwards situation, the God worshipping the acolyte. Maybe the entity he was made from was literally a deity of worship? I dunno. Kinda stumped on this one lol.
I think Mortarion would be pretty normal tbh. Might even fight against the thing in his chest that tugs him towards your presence. Slow burn city. I think whatever god he was made from very much wanted to be left alone, but wasn't particularly scary. Just a bit cold, distant, and stern. Maybe something to do with resilience in the face of suffering/adversity?
Fulgrim is pretty obvious thematically. Another one that wouldn't be too scary. Whatever divine he was made from was some kind of god of perfection/pursuits (obvs). Something you'd pray to before you tried to paint a masterpiece, or maybe even as you tried to learn any skill at all. Praying in the hopes of becoming a master at whatever trade you do. As for why it didn't go willingly, maybe it saw the creations Big E intended to make as flawed, and found being placed in such a vessel as distasteful? Might be why he's so obsessed with achieving perfection, because that part of him is viscerally digusted by his imperfections.
Bonus: Guilliman was made from some kind of deity of order. Or even a god of plenty/growth? He always seems to leave places better than they were before he got there, after all. I know a lot of people see Sanguinius or Vulkan as Konrad's opposite, but I think maybe Guilliman is closer. Guilliman feels like true order. Curze feels like chaos grasping for stability (via his obsession with executing criminals) idk.
Apologies for how long this ended up being >_< I had a lot more thoughts than I'd expected lol. I hope your weekend goes well!
This is an interesting idea! I've not heard of this theory before but given the vagueness behind Emps dealings in creating the primarchs, anything is possible
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general-cyno · 1 year ago
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wano has become a favorite arc of mine for different reasons and it also gave me a lot of zolu brainworms to mull over, so here I go (again). spoilers for some of the big reveals in the arc so beware
despite getting separated shortly after reuniting, yasuie's execution once again highlighted how similarly minded zoro and luffy are - like zoro, luffy gets pissed at the sight of ppl laughing at yasuie after he's killed, though they both learn it's due to the effects of the smile fruits. and despite the fact that doing so could put their plan in jeopardy (hence why sanji yells at zoro to cool his head), luffy actively cheers zoro on (from the distance) when he goes after orochi in retaliation
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a nice tiny moment is also back when they're together. luffy was worried since big mom appeared in wano yet jimbei (who had stayed in whole cake island to fend her off along his former crew so the straw hats could escape) hadn't arrived. albeit zoro wasn't even part of the WCI arc events, he's quick to reassure luffy:
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although I'm not certain whether law was referring to them specifically or not, there's a part during the discussion of the raid where he says there's two idiots who, no matter how much planning goes into it, are likely to charge straight in regardless. then, of course, this happens:
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(so yeah. I think they're probably the idiots)
and funnily enough, zoro doesn't get lost for once. not only does he find luffy, any intention zoro had of (ironically, considering he was causing a ruckus himself) chastising luffy for messing up the infiltration goes out the window when he tells zoro about the spilled oshiruko
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this is a direct callback to their interactions with tama when they first reunited in wano. it's cute how attached they got to her and yeah, they're both stupidly reckless at times but this is one occasion in which it isn't just for the sake of chaotic shenanigans - it's them getting angry at how these ppl are disrespecting what tama and the oshiruko stand for. to those present, it seems foolish/weird since they don't understand the context behind it, but it's the kind of understanding that goes on between luffy and zoro precisely bc of the moments they share together.
there's some good panels of both worrying about each other after getting hurt and zoro carrying an injured luffy to safety. they're soooo.
this was pretty good too:
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their plan to jump to the roof to face kaido ultimately fails here but it's still cute that zoro's so willing now to just cling to and let luffy carry him around like this (arlong park zoro has come a long way lol). it also says a lot abt luffy's trust in both the crew and zoro that he was fine letting them in charge below while he and zoro went to face kaido together.
the x drake ordeal was kind of funny but it served to show exactly why zoro complements luffy so well. luffy tends to be very trusting toward others, even those who might've started out as enemies which usually works out fine but still. zoro's quick to remind luffy that the guy's a traitor and unreliable, and (along with some of the other straw hats) refuses to blindly accept the impromptu alliance. it's interesting though, that zoro doesn't entirely disregard luffy's opinion nor x drake's help per se - he's just understandably wary of drake's true intentions (pointing out that he's still hiding where he stands in the whole conflict) and eventually agrees to team up. love the balance of it ngl.
that said, the actual fight on the roof has to be one of my favorite parts! it's probably one of the most obvious occasions in which zoro's role as luffy's first mate/right hand man and how much luffy relies on him too shines through. there's zoro slashing big mom and kaido's fire attacks so they wouldn't hurt luffy, taking the lead in attempting to stave off kaido and big mom's joint attack (and succeeding for a bit) despite the fact that he's got three powerful captains beside him, and several panels of him protecting luffy. this one was particularly crazy
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this is pretty much zoro's equivalent to "if you wanna kill him you'll have to kill ME first". insane. I love them so much. zoro may be the one to have more instances in which he gets to demonstrate his loyalty and protectiveness towards luffy rather than the opposite - but knowing luffy's the one who usually risks himself for others in grandiose ways, I find it very compelling that zoro gets to be the one to protect him in these important moments, that luffy trusts him to do it and even thanks him for it here in this arc. to me, there's a reason why, out of the whole crew, zoro was the only one to take part in this particular confrontation. mutual trust/understanding/respect etc are at the core of their relationship. it's a two way thing.
fast forward to zoro vs king and OF COURSE this mf thought of luffy when facing the guy.
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I posted about this the other day, but something similar happened during zoro's duel against mihawk. when the latter asks what drives zoro to fight despite being so weak, it's this exact part of his meeting with luffy at the marine base that he recalls. zoro has certainly driven himself to get stronger for the crew's sake and for his dream, but it's clear that luffy (and his own promise to kuina) is one of zoro's biggest motivators. he's also the one person zoro has cast aside that very dream of his for so... (thriller bark zoro you live in my heart always).
when zoro wins against king, too, it's his promise to never lose that he recalls. the promise he made to luffy. regardless of how you interpret their relationship, it's obvious luffy means a lot to zoro and moments like these don't let the readers forget it.
that said, this was perhaps the most insane part to me:
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just when you think zolu can't get more trope-y than it already is, the manga says: wait a fucking second. canon sun/moon, heaven/hell, god/demon zolu.
I was already spoiled about these bits, though they were exciting to read through anyway. I think it's very curious that both zoro's ancestry and his conqueror's haki reveal happened during the arc where the true nature of luffy's devil fruit comes to light and his awakening into joyboy/nika takes place. can't say for sure what oda's planning for them in the future, but wano is probably the biggest glimpse so far as to the kind of figures luffy and zoro are bound to become (or are already becoming) in one piece's universe.
joyboy luffy being considered a hero to wano only rivaled by shimotsuki ryuma is also so... oof, knowing that ryuma (also called god of the blade) is zoro's ancestor, whose zombie he faced back in thriller bark and whose sword shusui he wielded for a while after that, and that he resembles physically too (both being one-eyed samurai/swordsmen). there's a lot more parallels to be drawn between them, and zoro's conqueror's haki adds a whole new layer to their relationship, but a detail that's fascinating to me is that both zoro's presence and joyboy's awakening in wano are hailed as the work of fate at different points, by kawamatsu and zunesha respectively.
overall there seems to be a thread of "fate" that's tying the story together from the void century to roger's era to the present but choice is also an important aspect imo. zoro and luffy are an example, bc in spite of how their stories have turned out to be somewhat intertwined... it was luffy's choice to seek out the demon pirate hunter and rope him into his crew. it was zoro's choice to join him, to make a promise that'd tie his own dream to luffy's. there's a potential that neither of them could've reached if they hadn't come together to sail in that dinghy and formed an entire crew (a family!) that have all of them journeying towards their dreams, always relying on and striving to become better for one another. all of these little choices for luffy and zoro led them up to this point and onwards, which tbh is just really fucking good.
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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year ago
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im gonna stay dreaming that either vampire engel turns Konig or her drinking his blood somehow turns her human because the way you write in general, the angst, the yearning, I wanna eat your writing my dude
Omg turning Engel back to human?? (Omg he could finally marry her and… um… love her properly)
What if…
What if König tried to find a cure for her…? 🥺🥺
König has never been so feral. He's rooting out vampires with a newfound purpose, but instead of just killing them, he tortures them first to find out if there's a cure for vampirism.
And Engel knows what he's doing... She knows, and says nothing. She can't believe that a human man wants to help her (well, technically, König never asks if she wants to become human again; he has made all her decisions for her for weeks now, but Engel's soft little lips tremble from seeing how fervently he's searching for a cure, just for her sake). Sometimes, he has to drag them to their camp for torture, and König doesn’t like it that she's close by, not one bit.
"Look away, little angel," he demands with a grim voice, completely different from the tone he usually uses with her, the gentle accent she's now grown used to. The violence of his trade seeps through everytime he's filled with bloodlust, and once, when a captive vampire spews out curses at her, shouts how she's a traitor, how she's not a wolf but a lamb for preferring to be with cattle, how their love is cursed, König's fist brings an end to the spell-like rage as the captive's jaw is ripped off by the blow.
And she can't look away.
She's now utterly, hopelessly, desperately in love, and hungry all the time: she never drinks enough because she just can't bring herself to do it, no matter how many times König orders her to have her fill. She can see that he can't take it, large and able-bodied as he is, so she has to lie to him that she's feeling well when in truth she's about to collapse. She nearly faints from thirst once, and that's the first time König gets angry at her. She falls to her knees and tries to apologize because she can't take it when he's upset, far less bear it if he's disappointed in her. But König storms from the camp, and she feels like dying; she's too weak to even follow him.
She can't, because it feels like a kiss.
That captive just read her mind and revealed her true feelings for her human captor, and König isn't appalled at all; he doesn't turn around and ask her if it’s true. He simply smashes a face in to stop the curse, like it matters to him that her love stays pure. Like he loves her too...
After a while that feels like a century, König returns like a mountain of fury. He's dragging her first proper meal in weeks with him, and looks like a man who has finally sold his soul to the devil, says nothing as he throws the poor male at her feet, even slits his throat for her. Hesitantly, he crawls forward and starts to feed, assuming that the young male he brought for her must've been some kind of a criminal. A thief or a rapist, perhaps.
She lies on the ground, all hope lost: did her one true love just leave her? For disobeying him...?
She can finally drink her fill, and after a while, König comes to crouch at her side. He starts to pet her hair while she drinks: and she can’t help but whimper. She drinks as neatly as she can, like a human drinking from a saintly cup, not giving into her lust, just closing her eyes and savoring the song of blood inside her and König's gentle hand upon her head…
She's so in love by now that she wants to be with him at all times, even when he rests. She simply can't take another night without him. Not an hour before dawn, she crawls out of the coffin she just crept into to escape the approaching sun. She slides onto the bed next to König, and tries to be as silent as possible – he would just command her back to her coffin if he woke up – shuffles next to him like a cold shadow, and almost succeeds... But then he stirs as she attaches herself to his warm, powerful form, practically clutches him like she's drowning.
She's quiet as a mouse, but no scolding comes, there's not a single sharp command from him. König just goes tense when he senses there's a woman latched to him; then starts to relax upon noticing it's just his love-starved pet who's crawled to him in the night. He even wraps his hand around her like they've always done this – like they're a married couple who have curled together for warmth and love for years and years.
"Engel… You need to go back to your bed," he says, voice parched and soft from sleeping. König always calls her coffin 'bed' as if it's merely just that: a downy bunk where humans go to sleep. At times, when they have to take refuge from a hail, König bribes the innkeeper and hauls her coffin to his room. She likes to think it's because he wants to ensure that nothing bad happens to her.
He starts to caress her softly (she can't believe how gentle König can be with his touch when he wants to): first her head, then her cheek, then her arm… Her fingers fiddle with the hem of his mask, the large black draping hood that König uses to conceal his true identity and which sets him apart from the rest of the village folk.
They're not that different, perhaps, her and him. He's a monster in the eyes of the humans too; they fear him at least as much as they used to fear her.
"Not yet," she whispers, asks, begs, and grips his heavy shirt in a tight fist, making it clear that he has to pry her fingers off one by one if he wants to get rid of her. The man just sighs and lets her cling to him for a little while longer. But just when she starts to relax with the hope that König might allow her stay here until the sun rises, he collects her in his arms and lifts her from the bed like she's nothing but the dress she wears.
He carries her to her coffin and sets her down, down, down to the wooden box he has made so lovely and snug for her; it's furnished with dark red velvet paddings and even has a small pillow with cute little tassels attached to it. The sun is already rising, and she feels like crying again when König moves to pick up the large, heavy lid like it weighs nothing at all.
"Sir… Don't leave me," she whispers as her last wish, beckoning to him with all she has, the last part of her that's human and not the creature he hates. There's a flash of agony in his stare: a brief, sullen, pained look as he looks down at her like the Holy Christos himself.
"I will never leave you," he promises, under his breath, a broken vow from a broken man, just before he encloses her in darkness.
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flowerandblood · 1 year ago
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The Impossible Choice (17)
[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]
[ warnings: violence, domination ]
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[description: Aemond comes to Storm’s End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Previous and next chapters: Masterlist
______
She awoke hearing commotion and guards running outside her chamber; she lifted her eyes lazily and found that it was only dawn. She looked around, noticing that her husband had not yet returned and felt a sense of unease throughout her body, deciding to check what had happened.
"Lyanna!" She called out softly, rising from her bed, walking as she did every morning to the vanity that had been placed in the prince's chamber, so that she could change and comb her hair there as well. She was surprised to find that no one answered her and glanced over her shoulder expectantly, but the door did not open.
She stood up and walked over to them, wanting to look out into the corridor to call her in again. She pulled the handles and froze.
The door was closed.
She felt the cold sweat on her back.
What could have happened?
She began to analyse everything that had happened the evening before.
Her husband had returned to the chamber furious and could not even focus on their intimacy, which always calmed him down.
She knew that something bad had happened and was afraid that both he and she were in danger.
She called out several times to open the door, but nothing had happened.
When half an hour passed and no one spoke or visited her the whole time, she began to panic. She feared that perhaps there had been some sort of coup or betrayal after all that perhaps his half-sister had taken the throne and overtaken the kingdom.
She almost jumped up when she heard the door to the chamber open at last and her husband stepped inside, pale, all tense, looking at her with wide eye, his chest rising and falling in quick breaths. She got up from the bed, approaching him and began to speak quickly, flustered and terrified.
"What's happening? Lyanna's nowhere to be found, they've locked me in here and won't let me leave." She muttered, breathing unevenly, a shudder of surprise and delight ran through her as he caught her cheeks in his hands.
"My father is dead."
She froze at his words, feeling only the loud pounding of her heart, hearing the rumbling in her head. She analysed quickly what he had said, swallowing loudly.
The King was dead.
The times of peace were over.
She wanted to ask him, scared and pale, what was going to happen to them now, what was coming, but what he said made her feel like she was about to faint.
"My mother is going to crown Aegon king. She said that was my father's last wish." He said dispassionately.
She could see by the look on his face, could hear in the tone of his voice how much he despised this decision.
She thought it was impossible and shook her head, furrowing her brows.
His father's last wish?
It sounded like the invention of a desperate mother or a wannabe ruler grandfather who wanted to see his blood on the Iron Throne.
Her grandfather had sworn to King Viserys to accept his first-born daughter as his heir.
She was a traitor then.
Seeing her disbelief and despair he pressed his forehead to hers, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs, the tenderness of these gestures and her simultaneous horror made her feel a variety of emotions at once.
There was something frightening and dark in his gaze that made her unable to look away from him.
"Will you stand by me? Will you be faithful and devoted to me?" He asked, his voice trembling in excitement.
Will you stand by me?
Will you be faithful and devoted to me?
Not towards the Queen.
Not towards the King.
Not towards the Crown.
Towards him.
She felt something going on in his mind, had felt it from the moment she first saw him.
There was a kind of voracious thirst inside him, a hunger that could not be satisfied.
She tried to tell herself that it wasn't true, that he only wanted her to be devoted to his family and to him, her husband. She drowned out any disturbing thoughts in her soul, casting them aside, locking them in a tight case and casting them into the abyss of her heart.
She lifted her fingers and gently touched his cheek where his scar had been. He closed his eye, savouring her touch, full of emotion.
Her husband.
She nodded, and he kissed her greedily, surprising her completely, his swollen lips pressing against her again and again with a wet, sticky click, his hands refusing to let her move away. Driven by the desire he always aroused in her, she entwined her hands in his hair, deepening the kiss, both of them sighing as the tips of their tongues licked each other, making a shiver run through them.
He pulled away after a moment, looking at her dreamily, thoughtfully, as if he had drifted off to his own dark fantasies deep in his heart, and ran his fingers over her cheek, making her tremble all over.
"Don't speak to anyone about the king's death or coronation. Do not confide in anyone. Trust only me." He whispered quietly and she nodded, surrendering to him completely, wanting him to know that she was fully devoted to him, as she always was. He hummed with satisfaction seeing this, stroking her chin.
"Such a good girl." He muttered the praise.
She blushed at the words that he so often made use of towards her in bed every time she gave him the pleasure that he craved.
He lowered his hand, sighing heavily, his face grew softer, his gaze eased, as if he had suddenly returned to reality. He put his hands behind his back and straightened up, looking at her.
"I have to leave for a while. Unfortunately, my mother has ordered you to stay indoors, but I promise it's temporary. Someone will bring your morning meal in a moment and help you change." He said and turned, leaving her with a look on her face full of uncertainty and terror. He knocked on the door and the guards opened it for him, locking the door behind him.
She sat back on the bed, feeling that her legs were soft like cotton wool, trying to calm the trembling of her hands, her heart was pounding like crazy, she could feel the cold sweat running down her back.
Never before in her life had she felt so terrified.
She knew that if Aegon were to be crowned, it would mean civil war for the whole kingdom, including them. She obviously had to side with her husband, but what about her father?
She bit her lower lip at the thought, knowing that the prince had driven him to fury and despair with his decision about taking her away from him.
He had sworn his army to the King with the intention of marriage, but if it was now unclear who was to rule the kingdom, who would he side with?
She thought Princess Rhaenyra would not leave it like that.
That she would call them traitors and begin rallying her allies.
She began to quickly analyse who they could have on their side, what the balance of power looked like.
Her mother came from House Arryn, all the Vale would surely side with her.
The Starks had never broken their oaths, so she could assume the whole north would follow them.
The Lannisters, with their power in the stronghold, would surely support Aegon, too afraid for their positions as would Harrenhal under the rule of the crippled Lord Strong.
She realised then with horror that the person deciding how evenly matched this battle could be would be her father, and swallowed loudly at the thought. She covered her face with her hands, sighing heavily.
She thought of the Queen as a wise, warm, compassionate woman.
How could she want to crown a drunkard and rapist?
She felt disgusted at the thought.
She shuddered when she heard the lock turn and one of the Queen's servants came in; she brought her meal and said that she would help her change her clothes. She nodded and let her do her duty, while trying to get anything out of her. The woman, however, remained silent as if under a spell.
She turned over her shoulder, startled, while the servant was just tying the sleeves to her buff brown gown, when Criston Cole stepped into her chamber. He bowed before her and grunted quietly.
"The Queen wishes to see you in the Small Council chamber." He said calmly and she raised an eyebrow, shocked.
What could this have been about?
The Queen wanted to make sure which side she was on?
She felt her heart pounding hard.
"Of course. I'll join you right away." She said, forcing herself to be calm, and nodded to the servant to hurry.
When she stepped out of her husband's chamber Ser Criston was waiting for her, apparently tasked with escorting her to her destination. They walked side by side in silence.
She always felt some kind of sympathy and support from him.
"Do not fret, my Lady." He said, opening the door for her.
She froze for a moment in complete shock, seeing a dozen people sitting at a table and standing around it, discussing something. They all cast a glance in her direction as soon as the door closed behind her, Ser Criston stood back, folding his arms behind him.
She was relieved to see the figure of her husband sitting beside his mother with his legs crossed, his hand outstretched on the table, his fingers moving restlessly, in his gaze an expectancy and intensity from which she grew hot.
Be devoted only to me.
At the very head of the table sat the Queen, still not dressed properly for her status, her hair loose. She saw Lord Lannister, the measter and Otto Hightower sitting at the Queen's right hand, a thoughtful Helaena, and Aegon, who had bruises on his face and looked as if a herd of horses had run over him.
The future King, she thought with pity and disgust.
She walked closer to the table, the queen smiling faintly, comfortingly, nodding at her. A map was spread out in front of them and tall figures of various houses placed on it; in one of them she recognised a deer and swallowed loudly.
"Come closer, my love, don't be afraid. We are just discussing what we should conceive after the death of our beloved King. We are preparing for Aegon's coronation, but also to secure our kingdom against the resistance of Princess Rhaenyra. I wish you and my son to fly to Storm's End after the Prince's coronation to remind your father of his arrangements with the King." The Queen said softly, but she felt a tightening in her stomach at her words.
Her father was not a dog that came running when called.
She placed her hands on the table, leaning over it slightly, looking at the maps and figures spread out before her.
"My husband cannot accompany me if my father is to support Prince Aegon." She said calmly, yet felt her whole body tense up, her heart pounding like mad.
She lifted her gaze and saw that everyone was looking at her with startled, uncertain eyes, her husband's hand clenched into a fist, she saw his warning, concerned, shocked look. Otto laughed heartily, as if she had said something silly.
"My Lady, forgive me, but this is ridiculous. A lady should not present matters of war to a mature men." He said in a rather sympathetic voice, full of disapproval and indulgence, Lord Lannister chuckled at his words, nodding, which frustrated her incredibly.
She thought with rage that they knew nothing of her or her father.
"My father believes that my husband took me from my household against his will. He has no affection for him and will not welcome the sight of him. However, I can convince him. He is fond of me, I am his youngest child. He will listen to me, but in solitude, in a conversation between daughter and father, not between Prince and Lord." She said coldly, looking down at him.
There was complete silence all around her, a few people twisting restlessly in their chairs. She glanced quickly at the expression on his husband's face, but saw that he had lowered his gaze, tapping his fingers on the table top.
"My wife is right." He finally said to the surprise of everyone, including her.
"I defied his will in his own stronghold and I suspect that he still hasn't forgiven me for it. It would be better for me to fly to Winterfell on Vhagar, to show the people of the North who have never seen a dragon what the real power looks like." He said, finally lifting his gaze to her, intense and sure. She felt heat in her chest at the thought of him, supporting her publicly in front of other men.
Trust only me.
The Queen nodded, sighing quietly.
"Yes, that's what we'll do. It will be good for the daughter to be the one to speak to her father and gently present the matter to him. Ser Cristion, how are the preparations for Prince Aegon's coronation proceeding?" She asked, intertwining her hands in front of her, Aegon laughed under his breath at her words, running his hand over his face, as if he himself could not believe what was happening.
"This is some kind of fucking farce." He said finally, smiling sleepily, she could smell the stench of the alcohol that he had drunk that night from a distance. She saw her husband turn his head away at his words, impatient, the Queen only clenched her eyes, sighing.
"Aegon…" She began quietly, almost warmly. "… be silent."
Then everything happened in a flash. She didn't even have time to speak with her husband about what had happened until they sit together in the carriage that was supposed to take them to the Great Sept.
"The Sea Snake. Who will he support? His fleet has the power to crush us." She said horrified by everything that was happening, clasping her hands on her lap, trying to stop them from trembling. Her husband looked at her impassively, his gaze piercing to the core.
"We're keeping his wife locked up. As far as I know, she is not indifferent to him. I, if I were him, would hold off on any sudden decisions." He said lowly, looking out of the window, watching the frightened people and simpletons forcibly herded like cattle into the Great Sept. She swallowed loudly at his words, not speaking again, sinking into her own doubts and fears.
When they arrived, they entered the temple through a back entrance with the entire retinue and guard, the Queen, Ser Criston, Otto and Helaena already waiting on the great podium. She swallowed loudly, bowing before them and after a moment the main gates were opened, the bewildered people of King's Landing who had no idea what was happening began to walk inside.
She watched the sight with a tightened throat, all stiff, feeling her hands trembling and she looked at her husband.
He stood beside her like a stone, it seemed to her as if he had frozen, only a slight gust of wind from outside occasionally blew his hair away.
He was with his thoughts somewhere deep inside himself, in that dark, black abyss that frightened her so much.
She wanted to touch him, to comfort him with her body, to make him come back to her, but she knew that was impossible now.
She shuddered as loud trumpet sounds rang out all around her, the guards formed a corridor for the future king to pass through.
She saw him emerge, pale, wearing all black, the great mark of House Targaryen on his chest.
She pressed her lips together at the sight, feeling it hard to breathe.
Traitors.
They were all traitors.
Aegon looked like he was going to be beheaded, not crowned, and she had a feeling that everyone standing around her felt the same way.
They were just about to make a fool, a drunkard and a rapist king of the Seven Kingdoms and they were all watching, doing nothing to stop this madness.
Aegon stepped onto the podium and the Septon approached him, applying holy oil to his forehead, giving him a blessing from the gods.
She thought, looking at it that what was happening before her eyes was blasphemy and sacrilege.
How was she to persuade her father to support them in the coming war, if she herself did not believe that what was happening was right?
She pressed her lips into a thin line as Ser Criston approached a servant holding Aegon the Conqueror's crown on a large cushion and took it in his hands, walking up to the Prince. She watched with a clenched heart, heavy and stony, as he placed it on his head.
Traitors.
She glanced out of the corner of her eye at her husband and his sister; she looked away from her brother-husband, clearly also unable to watch this derogatory sight. However, her husband was staring directly at his brother, at what was on his head with a gaze that horrified her.
Only now, seeing his ravenous stare did she understand what his dark, maddening dream, which he had miserably tried to hide from her was directed at.
The crown.
Her husband wanted to be a King.
She felt a cold sweat on the back of her neck at the mere thought, at the idea that their war was about to be waged against everyone.
Will you stand by me?
Will you be faithful and devoted to me?
She felt tears under her eyelids, her body began to tremble in terror from realising the thought so clearly; Aegon raised his sword high, the assembled people roared suddenly in joy, clapping and chanting his name.
"Aegon II! Aegon II! Aegon II!"
She felt a single tear leave the corner of her eye, running slowly down her cheek, her lips parted in shaky breath, her hands clenched on her stomach as she watched the scene.
He wanted her to take the throne with him or to fall into the darkness altogether.
"Aegon II! Aegon II! Aegon II!"
The words of her father, which he had once said to her as he sat with his back to her by the fireplace after putting down one of the rebellions on behalf of King Viserys, roared in her head.
When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die.
Suddenly, all she heard was a scream, the ground shook beneath them as if hell itself had opened up to consume them. She watched in disbelief as a great beast emerged before her and felt like laughing, thinking that the gods had brought punishment upon them for their attempts, for their deed, for what they had just tried to do.
She felt her husband stepping forward in front of her, pushing her back with his arm, terrified but still upright, proud, looking straight into the eyes of the beast.
The dragon.
When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die.
Her lips parted as she caught sight of a barely visible figure on the dragon's back.
Rhaenys Targaryen.
The bump of her heart.
She thought that they were all about to burn in the fires of her anger.
Bump.
Fire and blood.
Bump.
When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die.
The dragon's mouth opened, but no fire burst from it. Instead, they felt a powerful, terrifying roar, which made her whole body tremble, shivers run through her whole body. And then the great monster turned around and with a light leap flew through the front entrance, folding its wings and unfolding them back as he flew outwards.
She watched, clenching her hand painfully tight on her husband's arm, trembling all over, as its figure moved slowly away, disappearing into the sky. She felt that her body was just going through some kind of inner death, which, however, did not sufficiently reach her loins.
She knew where she had flown to.
Dragonstone.
They were all traitors.
_____
Aemond Taglist:
(bold means I couldn't tag you)
@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @diosademuerte @rwdkarla @echos-muses @ipostwhtifeel @letmeloveyouuuu @yentroucnagol @valeskafics
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somewhereincairparavel · 10 months ago
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okay. So I've finished book 1 of keeper of the lost cities for the first time. And I'm loving this keefe dude already?? Like I never thought I'd like a fictional character so quickly. All it took was like one page for me to fall for him, I am aware that keefe is one of the most loved characters in the fandom, and I can see why (correct me if I'm wrong).
Also the book is a solid 9.5/10, the only thing I was frustrated about was probably the slight info dumping about the whole blackswan thing towards the end? because it took me like 3 reads to understand the whole situation, of course, we could just narrow it down to me being slow too, lol. But I'm VERY excited to continue reading the rest. So while we're at it, I'll put in my first impressions of the characters, so I can look back on it after I've read all the books, to see how much my perception has changed of them.
Sophie- i like her, she's really mature for her age, I keep forgetting that she's like 12 lmao. But she's well written, her emotions seem very raw and natural. Of course, she may seem overpowered but, I think that's the whole point of the story, she is supposed to be overpowered, so I don't mind and i wouldn't call her a Mary sue. Overall great protagonist, my girlie deserves a break tho, she got dumped in the hospital atleast 6 times lol.
Fitz- i actually think he's cool. I liked him better in the beginning of the story tho, I feel like afterwards, the dude kinda just disappeared a little? Keefe and Sophie seemed to have more private interaction than those two, and keefe literally only came by in the middle. But yeah, I feel like he had more of a personality in the start. Keefe and Dex, in my opinion had more personality in 5 minutes than fitz did the whole book, but I wouldn't judge so quickly, it's only the first book after all, Hopefully he'd have more page time in the later books. I still like him tho, just not as much as keefe.
Dex- Yeah he is such a typical best friend, I love him. His beef w the vackers is so funny lol I was relieved when Sophie stuck with him even after she became popular tho, also, he seems to have a crush on sophie right? It's kinda obvious, but overall friendship goals 10/10. I vocally "AWW-ed" after he said "are you kidding, i can't wait to tell everyone that you're my first friend" like I need a guy bestie like him :(
Alden- honestly, my heart warmed so much with his father-like dynamic with sophie tbh. He seemed to genuinely care about her well being, but I don't want to get too attached to him tho, just in case becomes a traitor or some shit later on, you can literally never tell with the adults lol. I've read enough books to back that up. But yeah, i really like him and della, the amount of reassuring hugs he gives sophie really heals me :(, They're like sophies 2nd (well, in her case, 3rd) parents. The amount of effort and lengths Alden put to get her out of trouble is actually sweet.
Elwin- This guy is such a W. He is like an adult keefe tbh. He is probably my favorite adult so far lol.
Cassius- I'm sorry, but Mr jerk face over here reminds me SO much of Lucius Malfoy??? Like ?? I feel so bad for Keefe, like poor baby leave him alone smh. I really wanna deck his royal highness in the face tbh.
Biana- absolutely loathed her in the beginning, she gave off such bad snob vibes lol but I love her now. I like the trope of two people forced to be friends w eachother by someone actually end up becoming friends. It's rather uncommon as far as I've read, atleast.
Grady and Edaline- is it bad that i thought they were going to be evil? Yeah I have so much trust issues, it's concerning. But yeah, they're both big W's, their backstory, their temporary contemplation to reject sophies adoption, everything aligned well with their backstory. Greatly written characters.
And last but not least, the king himself, Keefe- okay, he's like added to my list of fictional crushes now lol (along with Percy Jackson, Jason grace, Steve Harrington, chat noir, Eugene fitzherbert, edmund pevensie and Ravi singh ofc). How does sophie not have a fat crush on him, like- ma'am if you don't want him, I'll take him. But jokes aside, he feels like the most authentic character out of them all, tbh. Epitome of great writing. He was inserted to the story as this random dude that sophie runs into, and becomes an og in like 5 minutes. He is like a mix of Eugene from tangled, Kristoff from Frozen and chat noir from mlb all at the same time?? I cannot wait to see more of him and his backstory, especially with his parents. I know alot of people dislike the humorous guy with depression trope since it's overused, but I like how it played out on keefe, he uses school as an escape, which is very relatable.
Also, bonus, i LOVE the world building, the light leaping and all, very creative. I cannot wait to get my hands on book 2
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watermelon-shit-posts · 3 months ago
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Explaining my KNY AU
I've written the fanfic of it if you want to read
In this AU 9/10 of the hashira, including my OC, betray the demon slayer corp and become demons. Sanemi is the only one not to defect.
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Ships
The included non canon ships are KokuHime, MoonButterfly Love, RenKaza, ObaGiyuu, InoTan, and NezKana
I'm comtplating if I add TsuKana (Tsutako x Kanae)
KokuHime (Kokushibo x Gyomei)
This is one of the last relationships to form and last to get the ability to be in a relationship. Gyomei's love language is quality time and Kokushibo's is gift giving, he mainly gives food as his gifts.
RenKaza (Kyojuro x Akaza)
Akaza and Kyojuro are the second to last relationship to officially start but are the second ship to have get ability to be in one. Akaza's love language is quality time, which is mainly sparing and Kyojuro's is words of affirmation.
MoonButterflyLove (Riko x Shinobu x Mitsuri)
These three are the first/third relationship, the reason for that is first Riko and Mitsuri start dating, then Shinobu gets brought it. Riko's love language is quality time, Mitsuri's is touch and Shinobu's acts of services.
ObaGiyuu (Obanai x Giyuu)
Obanai and Giyuu are actually the only relationship that started with both of them as humans and the second relationship to start. Giyuu and Obanai both actually have two love languages, Giyuu's are quality time and gifts while Obanai's are acts of services and gifts.
When I talk about when they started for the previous four ships I am only including those ones, not the following ships
InoTan (Inosuke x Tanjiro)
InoTan is implicated to start by the entertainment district. Tanjiro’s love language is really all of them, look at him and tell me otherwise, while Inosuke doesn’t completely understand what love languages are he says that acorns are his love language, Tanjiro has about 20 acorns from Inosuke.
NezKana (Nezuko x Kanao)
Kanao and Nezuko are quite affectionate to each other but don’t actually get in a relationship until after the final battle after Nezuko becomes a human, Kanao was worried that Nezuko might eat a human. Kanao’s love language is quality time, while Nezuko’s is physical touch, head pats.
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New Hashira/Uppermoons
Hashira
As I said before Sanemi is the only OG Hashira that doesn’t become a demon but with that comes new Hashira to replace the traitors.
Tanjiro the Sun Hashira, the first new hashira, became a hashira after the entertainment district.
Zenitsu the Rumble Hashira, became a hashira at the same time as Inosuke while Tanjiro was at the SSV.
Inosuke the Beast Hashira, became a hashira at the same time as Zenitsu while Tanjiro was at the SSV.
Nezuko the Demon Flame Hashira, has the demon slayer logo embroidered onto her haori along with golden buttons attached to it, became a hashira after the SSVA.
Genya the Demon “Hashira”, his ability to become a demon via eating them was told to the rest of the demon slayer corp, became a hashira after the SSVA. There’s a reason why hashira’s in quotes.
Kanao the Flower Hashira, she was the last to become a hashira because she sort of refused to become one until Shinobu died, but Shinobu became a demon before she died so that’s when Kanao became a hashira.
Uppermoons
Gyomei, shares upper one with Kokushibo, they’re about equal strength, became a demon while on patrol after encountering Kokushibo, who pulled a fucking Akaza praising Gyomei.
Riko, shares upper two with Shinobu and Mitsuri, strongest of the three, became a demon after getting offered by Kokushibo and facing Gyokko.
Mitsuri, shares upper two with Shinobu and Riko, second strongest of the three, became a demon after encountering Riko after a mission.
Shinobu, shares upper two Mitsuri and Riko, weakest of the three, became a demon after patrolling a large village party and a dance with Riko and Mitsuri, who were hunting for pervs at the party, they have standards.
Kyojuro, changed his name to Kuroi Hi because the Rengoku name is full of demon slayers, shares upper three with Akaza, they’re about equal strength, became a demon at the end of the MTA, as a matter of fact didn’t become a donut in this AU but was close.
Giyuu, shares upper four with Obanai, stronger of the two, became a demon because he went to the SSV and was blown away like Muichiro originally was, but instead of encouraging Gyokko, who was already dead, he meet Riko, she offered he accepted.
Obanai, shares upper four with Giyuu, weaker of the two, became a demon after Hantengu was defeated and Giyuu came and offered him, which he accepted, I mean they were in a relationship.
Tengen, shares upper five with his wives, he’s the strongest, Makio’s the second strongest, Hinatsuru is the third strongest and Suma’s the weakest, they became demons after the EDA before Nezuko arrived, Kuroi Hi (Kyo if you forgot) offered for them to become demons, Tengen looked to his wives they were fine with it and the he accepted.
Muichiro, upper six, he became a demon technically at the same time as Riko but decided after Riko decided, he still actually defeated Gyokko in this universe but a while before the SSVA.
Genya, lower one but just gets called upper seven, became a demon a bit after Mitsuri because Mitsuri was using her bird to spy on the butterfly mansion and Genya got curious, followed it and met Mitsuri who offer to him to become a demon, his ability got flipped to where he eats humans and gains a small immunity to the sun, but not a complete immunity.
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fairyniceyeah · 3 months ago
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💎🦌Day 4: “Great. I Got a Cold for My Birthday.”
@sicktember
Summary: Joshua gets sick on his birthday. What was supposed to be a nice day quickly turns into a disaster.
CW: /
 
Sickie: Joshua Caretaker: S.Coups/Seungcheol
He should have seen it coming. He really should have. 
It had started with a small, annoying headache that could be ignored until he got a bit dehydrated two days ago. Then the past day he had noticed how hoarse his voice had started to sound and his throat had kinda hurt when he went to bed early.
Yet, he had not put one and one together. Not until …
Joshua woke up to his leader and best friend turning on the light in his room and then jumping full force on top of Joshua’s blanket-covered body. While the leader took great care to not put his complete body weight on him, it was still a sudden, heavy and most annoyingly unexpected weight on him.
“Umpf. Cheollie, wha…?”
“Happy Birthday, Shua”, Seungcheol called happily, much more excited than Joshua himself felt. Joshua tried to wiggle out of the tight hug, but instantly his face was peppered with kisses all over. 
Wonwoo, Mingyu and Minghao, their dorm mates and the traitors, were laughing their asses off in the doorway, Mingyu nearly dropping the cupcakes he was holding as he slumped into Wonwoo.
“Thanks, I love you too, Cheollie. Now, get off”, Joshua groaned and managed to fight Seungcheol off in order sit up. Seungcheol beamed at him nevertheless, still sprawled over Joshua’s lap. 
Sitting up made Joshua remember all the feelings from the past. His headache returned in full force… and … and…
He pitched forward with a loud sneeze, too sudden to turn away or even have time to stifle it into his elbow. Instead he sneezed right into Seungcheol’s face. 
They stared at each other with similar looks of shock (and disgust on Seungcheol’s part) before Joshua felt his nose twitch again and he turned to the side to sneeze into his elbow a few times. 
“Fuck. Sorry”, he apologized as soon as he could, wincing as he heard his own voice. It was a mix of roughness from the sore throat (and oh God, did sneezing with an aching throat hurt) and stuffiness from what was definitely a congested nose. “Great. I got a cold for my birthday.”
“Yeah, I’d say so”, Seungcheol said, thankfully accepting the tissue Minghao handed to him from very far away and wiping his face. 
“Uh, happy birthday? Hyungs.” Wonwoo, Mingyu and Minghao slowly backed out, clearly not willing to risk contagion. Within seconds all that was left of them was the cupcakes Mingyu had left standing on the floor. 
With an exaggerated sigh, Seungcheol rolled onto his back next to Joshua. “I’m gonna call the managers for Covid tests.”
💎
Two hours later, both of them stood at the side of the practice room, watching the other members during their break after the first part of their dance practice. Already Joshua was exhausted. Trying to keep his distance, all while trying to dance correctly and trying to not cough or sneeze was draining him to no end. Both him and Seungcheol had been told to wear masks and avoid the other members as much as possible. The Covid-tests had been negative luckily, but still the managers had reminded them multiple times to stay far away from the others. As if Joshua wanted to infect the members. 
Joshua understood the precautions, he really did. Still, it was his birthday and it felt weird not having one of his dongsaengs draped over himself if Jeonghan or Seungcheol didn’t. Seungcheol did cling to him mostly, but nevertheless…
Dino and Hoshi were laying on top of one another, giggling over an inside joke. Jeonghan, Jihoon and Minghao were standing together, talking animatedly. Jun was helping DK with his choreo, and Mingyu was calling out numbers in evaluation, mostly at random to edge them on. Wonwoo, Seungkwan and Vernon were sitting together talking, the youngest sprawled over the other two.
Normally, Joshua would be right in the middle, with one or more of his dongsaengs attached to him. But instead he was watching from the sidelines on the one day he knew everybody would be fighting over his attention. He might pretend he didn’t like it, but who wouldn’t want a bit of pampering and love?
Especially now … he didn’t feel well and he wanted hugs. It was the one thing he couldn’t get. He hadn’t imagined his birthday would turn out this sad and depressing. As if reading his thoughts, the leader grabbed Joshua’s hand in his, pulling him into his embrace. 
“I know it sucks, baby”, he whispered into Joshua’s ear, his voice a bit muffled by the mask. Joshua nodded against his shoulder, trying to hide the tears he felt bubbling up. It was bad enough he never saw his family for birthdays anymore, now he couldn’t even really spend the day with his found family. 
A sudden cough seized his chest, causing him to slightly double over and try to pull away. Seungcheol didn’t let him, however, holding him even tighter. It took some time until Joshua was able to calm down his breathing again, wincing as his chest hurt. By then the others had stopped their conversations and turned to look at them.
“Why don’t you go home and have a nice day on the couch?”, Jeonghan suggested worriedly. “Rest and get well soon?”
On one hand that sounded amazing. He was so tired and achy. 
But … on the other, he didn’t want to leave. He wanted to be with his members. 
Seungcheol lifted his hand to feel Joshua’s forehead. “You’re warm and I can tell you are exhausted. I think Hannie has a good point. There is no need to push through.”
“Okay”, Joshua mumbled, resigned. Maybe it would help his mood if he wasn’t constantly reminded of what he couldn’t have. Seungcheol wrapped his arm around the younger’s shoulder and led him from the room. 
💎
Joshua’s mood did not improve at all. The manager had taken one look at him, taken one of the thermometer guns the company had bought during the pandemic and seen that his temperature was up (Joshua didn’t exactly know, he still hadn’t gotten used to the Celsius system) and promptly announced that a doctor’s visit was in order. 
The vocalist had never ever wanted to hear “Happy Birthday” from a doctor. Getting told he had to cough out some mucus (disgusting) to get tested for other respiratory illnesses (yey) which meant they had to wait at the clinic for the results (why?) had only soured his mood further. At least Seungcheol had been allowed to stay with him and they even let Joshua sleep on one of the cots. 
Joshua stared helplessly at Seungcheol, who looked a bit worried now that a nurse had given them the official diagnosis. He had no idea what she had said, completely unfamiliar with any medical terms. 
The leader fumbled for his phone and typed in some words, holding it out for Joshua to see.
Bronchitis the screen read. Great. Even worse than a cold, he got bronchitis for his birthday. Joshua was so done with the day. Climbing under his bed covers and sleeping away what was left of that terrible day, sounded like the only option now.
“You’ll get a prescription for cough medicine and fever reducers. Rest and drink fluids. If you feel worse, come back”, the nurse informed them and left.
💎
Curled under his blankets and changed into comfy pajamas, his back turned to the door, Joshua glumly glared at his phone. 
Due to illness Joshua-ssi’s birthday v-live is canceled. Please keep the artist in your thoughts and let’s hope for his swift recovery.
It wasn’t like Joshua wanted to do the live, he truly didn’t feel well enough to show himself to and entertain thousands of carats … but it was just reminding him of all what the day should have been. He had already called his mom and tried not to cry and failed spectacularly at that. Right now, he missed her more than anything.
“Hey”, Seungcheol said, shouldering open the door and putting down a tray full of medicine, tissues and a cup of tea. “How are you feeling?”
“Well, what do you think?”, Joshua snapped, instantly regretting it. It wasn’t the leader’s fault he was sick, in fact Seungcheol had shown him nothing but kindness all day. “Sorry, I just … I … frustrated, I guess…”
Seungcheol sighed and sat down on the bed by Joshua’s side. “I know today hasn’t really gone the way you wanted it to. I promise we’ll make it up to you when you’re healthy again, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Is there anything I can do to lift your mood?”
“I don’t want to get you sick…”
Seungcheol gently flicked his forehead. “I don’t care. If I am destined to get sick, I will be because you straight-up sneezed into my face, not because I cuddled you.”
“I told you I was sorry”, Joshua grumbled, turning away to stare at the wall. 
“I’m sorry, I shouldn't tease. Let me make it up to you with cuddles, okay?”
💎
When Joshua woke up hours later, still feeling wretched and awfully sick, he was alone. Seungcheol was nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t like the leader didn’t have any schedules, quite the contrary. He was healthy and he shouldn’t waste his whole day watching over his sick friend when he had practices and meetings to attend. 
Still, it would have been nice if he had stayed. 
Now that he was awake, Joshua decided to use the opportunity to use the bathroom. Shakily he got up, slipping his feet into warm socks that Seungcheol must have left by his bedside. He already missed the warmth of his blanket but he would have to suffer for only a few minutes before he could lie back down. 
Walking was harder than expected, his chest hurting and making him cough violently. Disgusted, but not able to care much, Joshua wiped the mucus on his sleeve on his pants before opening the door to the hallway. 
“Shua?”, Seungheol’s voice called, causing the vocalist to jump. He hadn’t expected the leader to be home.
He coughed again, the pain in his throat bringing tears to his eyes. Seungcheol instantly wrapped him in his arms, holding him up. “Oh, baby.”
“Don’t feel good”, Joshua mumbled, resting his head on his friend's shoulder. 
“I know”, Seungcheol whispered, “wanna come to the living room for now? Maybe being upright might help.”
Joshua nodded, not sure if it would actually help but not quite wanting to be alone. Seungcheol took his hand in his, tugging him along. 
As they rounded the corner to the living room, a chorus of voices suddenly yelled: “Surprise!”
In shock, Joshua jumped back, only Seungcheol’s quick reflexes keeping him on his feet.
There, spread out in the living room, stood all their members, wearing thick, hospital grade masks in different colors and various versions of party hats. A huge poster with “Happy Birthday, Shua” was hanging on the wall, one side already pinned, the other held up by Mingyu, clearly still in the process of getting set up. Seungkwan and Vernon were holding a cake and Seokmin and Jihoon activated small confetti cannons as they all started to sing. 
How had … when … what?
Bewildered, Joshua stared at them as they cheered, staring up at Seungcheol in confusion. “We wanted you to have a lovely day no matter how sick you are”, the leader explained, having put on one of the colorful masks too and held out one for the younger. “We know it’s not what …”
“It’s amazing”, Joshua mumbled, still not quite processing. 
“Should you be … isn’t … wasn’t there a meeting this afternoon?”
“Oh, yeah. The manager managed to move it to tomorrow, we have the whole day free for you. They all knew you needed a pick-me-up today.”
Joshua wasn’t sure if he was going to laugh or cry. Instead he hid his face in his hands, feeling his cheeks heat up not just from fever but from embarrassment.
“You didn’t have to”, he mumbled. 
“We didn’t”, Seungcheol said, getting interrupted by Seungkwan who yelled: “But we wanted to, hyung! You deserve it!”
Tears rose in his eyes but then Jeonghan called: “No crying allowed today!”
“Thank you, guys, really”, Joshua whispered.
“Happy Birthday, baby”, Seungcheol said and pulled him into an embrace again, ruffling his hair.
It most certainly wasn’t what he had expected of the day but sitting on the armchair, surrounded by his members, though they had to keep their distance, was the best present he could have gotten, bronchitis be damned.
Masterlist links: Fairy's Full Masterlist Fairy's Sicktember 2024
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