#...anyway; just more nonsense thoughts that have crossed my mind

[hard-core-super-star]

keep it confidential, you make me feel special [W.Maximoff + K.Bishop]

pairing: domme!wanda maximoff x sub!reader x kate bishop

summary: wanda's the infamous editor in chief of a prestigious magazine, you're her executive editor and kate's your newest, annoying, assistant. what could possibly happen when she stumbles into wanda's office at the wrong time and finds out you two are more than co-workers? nothing good.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS GO AWAY! -> established dom/sub dynamics; office sex; power play; fingering; grinding; finger sucking because my hand slipped; praise kink go brr; mommy kink go brr; slight voyeurism [kate is a bit of a perv and a peeping tom]; technically triple [legal] age gap?; someone needs to notify HR lmao; R goes from not wanting kate around to wanting to top her which is valid, i think; no threesome yet tho

wordcount: 2.6k

a/n: HI! i rewatched the devil wears prada a few months ago and this random idea came to mind and i just could NOT stop myself from writing it. and trust me, i tried 😅 i have no idea if anyone will be into this AU but i wanted to explore R in a different role than usual. but because of who i am as a writer, that will come in part two which i hope will be up sometime next week. wanda x kate HAS to be the rarest rareship but oh well, my hand slipped. anyway, please let me know what you think and if you'd like to be added to the taglist. for now, hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

Your steps are hurried as you make your way to Wanda's office, ignoring her assistant and her warning that the older woman is busy. You know damn well she's not busy, considering the not safe for work texts she'd just sent you.

Surprisingly, that's not what has you so hurried, though.

You push open her office door, straightening up as her gaze falls on you. "Do you need something?"

Instead of instantly replying, you shut the door behind you, making sure the windows are fully covered before standing in front of her desk. "Out of all the applicants, you chose the Bishop girl? I said I wanted an assistant, not a pet."

Even though she knows exactly what you're talking about, she still raises her eyebrow just to see you shrink into yourself. "Excuse me?"

You stand your ground as your stubbornness wins out over your fear of disappointing her. "Oh, come on, Wanda, there's no one around."

"That still doesn't mean you can forget your place," she replies, her no-nonsense tone taking a stand.

Instead of asking for forgiveness, you simply roll your eyes and cross the space between you. Wanda's hands land on your waist and she helps you up onto her desk before sliding her chair closer until she's between your spread legs.

"I'm serious, Wands," you try again. "Why her?"

"Because I said so," she responds, clearly teasing you. "And she was the best candidate."

"I seriously doubt that," you scoff. "What were her qualifications? Eating from a silver spoon all her life?"

"Behave. Why are you doubting me so much?"

Even though you're still a little annoyed, you force yourself to swallow said annoyances briefly. The last thing you need is to get into an unnecessary argument and earn yourself the silent treatment until tomorrow.

"It's not about doubting you," you reply with a sigh. "I just don't understand what your plan is."

The smirk on her face should tell you all you need to do, but you're far too distracted by her hands on your thighs to notice. "You don't need to understand, darling. You just need to trust me. I have no doubt the two of you will get along very well."

Her suggestive tone isn't lost on you, and yet you choose to ignore it. Maybe it's because of the trust you implicitly place in her or because her hands begin wandering, and she leans up to kiss you, and every thought in your head disappears.

Your argument is forgotten for the rest of the day (thanks to Wanda's skillful fingers) and you almost forget about Kate's existence.

Except, she shows up at the office, bright-eyed and smiley, two days later.

The mere sight of her makes you want to roll your eyes, but you force yourself to behave for Wanda. As much as you hated the solution, you were in dire need of an assistant and if the Bishop girl was your only option…well, you hated to admit it, but she was better than nothing.

Especially if having her around kept you from getting in trouble with your partner.

Despite your hesitations, the first few days were fine.

Kate was surprisingly good at listening when she wanted to be and her weird charm made her the best candidate for going out to fetch your lunch. Sure, it was a little juvenile to make her your errand girl, but what else was an assistant for? Your duties as editor-in-chief were overwhelming most days, thanks to how much of a perfectionist Wanda is, and an errand girl was exactly what you needed.

You hated it but…it turned out the Bishop girl wasn't the worst person for the job. Even you could admit that.

It certainly helped that she seemed to be quite…enthusiastic around you. You wrote it off as her being excited about finally having a job after being a trust fund baby all her life.

That became harder to do, though, when you saw the way she acted around Wanda.

The blush that stained her cheeks, the constant stammering only to ramble on about something completely unrelated to the topic at hand, the way she fidgeted with her hands when no one was looking. It was far more amusing than it should have been.

You were hardly the right person to judge considering the heart eyes you constantly threw Wanda, even at work. It wasn't like your relationship was forbidden, even if HR probably wouldn't be happy about it, but the two of you still preferred to keep things discreet. Not simply because of the nature of your relationship, even though that was a big part of it.

While your promotion to executive editor had come before getting romantically involved with Wanda, people still talked. She already faced so much adversity, you hardly needed to add fuel to the fire.

Maybe that's what made Kate's reactions so damn endearing. She was you if had allowed your real feelings to slip through the cracks all those months ago.

However, when you brought up your observations to Wanda, her reaction wasn't what you expected.

The two of you were in her office, far past 5 PM, sharing a bottle of wine and pretending like you were actually editing the newest batch of stories sent in by the writers for next month's issue. When the silence started lingering, you brought it up.

"I think Kate's got a crush on you," you say with a grin far too big for the topic at hand.

Wanda meets your eyes over the rim of her glass. "Me? Oh, darling, you're far too intelligent to be so oblivious."

Her words only serve to confuse you and you try to ignore the warmth in your cheeks as your head tilts to the side. "What are you talking about?"

She allows herself a laugh as she sets her glass down and pats her lap in invitation. You waste no time in following her wordless offer, the tension in your shoulders already starting to lessen. Her hands land on your waist and she pulls you in as close as physically possible.

Once you're settled on her lap, she speaks again, her eyes glancing behind you for a second. You assume it's her being overly vigilant as always so you pay no mind to it. "Darling, Kate is embarrassingly head over heels for you."

If her grip on you wasn't so tight, you would have squirmed away out of embarrassment. "What? That can't be true."

All she does is smile, her hands rubbing up and down your sides. You're not sure if she's trying to distract you or not, but your thoughts get scattered all the same. "Trust me, detka, she doesn't care about this place enough to be doing all your biding."

Slowly, the wires in your brain start connecting. The process is slower than normal, though, thanks to the wine in your system and Wanda's hands on your body. "Then why'd you hire her?"

Instead of answering, she simply continues her slow exploration of your body. Even though you know what she's doing, you can't find it in yourself to care. Especially when her hands slip under your shirt. "You keep questioning me and you'll end up over my lap with a sore ass."

It's technically a threat, and yet your hips move against her before you can stop them. Wanda catches you, of course. She's far too attuned to your body and the way it reacts to her words, even when you don't want it to.

Whatever her plan is, it's working perfectly. As usual.

And while you could sit there and take it, you much prefer to be a brat about it. Like always.

"Are you going to actually do something or just keep talking?" You ask, grinding against her firm thigh.

Her eyes shift again, that smug smirk marking her features once more. "But you like it when I talk you through it, don't you?"

Before you can answer, one of her hands moves up and she slides two fingers into your mouth. It's unexpected, but you respond instantly all the same.

Her other hand remains on your waist, guiding you against her thigh. It should be embarrassing you much you want her. How needy you are that even the briefest touch gets you so desperate.

Instead, it feels fucking incredible.

"Don't worry," she murmurs, pushing her fingers in deeper just to take in the face you make. "I've got you."

Her words are meant to be comforting, and in a way they are, but more than anything, they give you the permission you need to let go. To stop thinking so damn much after a day of nonstop work and worrying.

Wanda sees it. She always does. And even though she could tease you about it, a part of her always longs to take care of you. It's hard for her to trust anyone, let alone want them around. It's different with you, though. It's always been different.

She slips her fingers out of your mouth only to slip them down the front of your trousers, a wicked glint in her eye shining as she finds the wetness staining your panties. "Already, darling? Did you miss me that much today?"

"I always do," you reply, walking the line between vulnerability and desire.

"Oh, I know. You just need me that much, huh?"

Despite the question, she gives you no time to actually answer. Instead, she slips her fingers under your panties to tease your clit.

The contact makes you jump, your hips conflicted about whether to move away or closer. Wanda makes the choice for you, though, squeezing your waist while her fingers slip inside your cunt.

You clench around the intrusion, head falling back as the pleasure moves up your spine. The sight of bared skin only makes the older woman move closer, her lips latching onto your neck. She knows better than to actually leave behind any hickies, despite how badly you both want her to.

She doesn't give you any time to think about that, though, because all your focus is given to her fingers pistoning in and out of you. Her pace is just fast enough to keep you gasping for air in between moans yet slow enough to feel her knuckles grazing against your walls.

"Wanda-" You gasp, your hands blindly griping her flexing biceps as she works you up effortlessly. Well, almost effortlessly, if the way her muscles move beneath your hands is anything to go by.

"Nice try, sweetheart," she mutters as she grazes her teeth against your pulse point. "Just because we're still at work doesn't mean you can forget your manners."

You whine despite yourself. "Please, mommy."

"Much better."

Your reward, besides the sweet praise, is her thumb toying with your aching clit. Your hips buck against her hand as you chase after the release slowly building. It's almost unfair how quickly she gets you to this point.

Then again, it's a much better alternative than when she gets into a sadistic mood and edges you over and over again only to ruin your orgasm and leave you spent and shaking on her expensive sheets.

Today, it seems she's in a much nicer mood because she keeps her fingers moving. "Do you want to cum, baby?"

You nod instantly, the condescending tone in her voice making your brain melt. "Yes, mommy! Please."

She trails a few kisses down your throat while her thumb toys mercilessly with your clit. It's almost like she's waiting until your whole body starts trembling to give you the command you crave.

"Alright, sweet girl, let go for me."

That's all your body needed to hear.

Your orgasms crashes into you all at once, pulling you down until all that's left is the overwhelming pleasure pulsing through your core. You can feel Wanda smiling against your skin as she slows down her movements, not stopping until she's sure she's wrung out every drop of your release.

You shift away from her when the feeling of her touch grows to be too much and she relents with a quick kiss to your jaw. "Good girl. You did so well for me, sweetheart."

All you can do is hum, your body already slumping against her. She chuckles at the action as her fingers find their way back into your mouth.

You're halfway to a much needed nap when Wanda shocks you awake with one simple sentence.

"If you're going to keep staring, you might as well come in, Kate."

Her free hand moves to the back of your neck, holding you against her even though all you want to do is run away. You've never let anyone except Wanda see you like this and you're not exactly thrilled about changing that right now. But, her embrace is still warm and if she takes care of the brunette's bad timing on her own, maybe it'll be fine. At least she takes her fingers out of your mouth to save you the embarrasment.

"I'm so sorry, I realized I forgot to drop off some paperwork and I assumed no one was here and then I saw you guys and-"

"And you decided to stop and watch instead of leaving." You don't have to be looking at her to know the smirk the older woman is wearing. "I didn't realize you were such a slut, Kate."

Wanda's voice lacks the harshness you had been expecting, but a brief glance toward the younger woman tells you she doesn't realize that. It's…cute, in a way. She looks like the most flustered deer in headlights you've ever seen and it weirdly works for her.

Kate opens her mouth a few times, trying to form words but failing miserably. The sight makes you giggle which makes Wanda glance down at you.

None of you seem quite sure of where to go, you just know Wanda's not mad and you're coming around to Kate's presence. Especially if being flustered means she's not talking all the time.

"Kate, if all you wanted was to be topped by Wanda, you didn't have to get a job here," you pipe up.

Your words seem to stun the room into silence and you shift enough to be able to watch the brunette's face turn an even deeper shade of pink. "I didn't- that's not-"

"It's not?" Wanda's eyebrow raise is almost inbedded in her tone. "You're not a good enough liar to try right now."

For a second, it looks like Kate is ready to run away from the conversation. But after a beat of silence, she rolls her shoulders back and straightens up, her chin held a little higher. "That's not why I applied to work here…and it's none of your business who I want to be topped by."

"It's both of us, isn't it?"

Wanda's question makes the brunette's confidence fall flat. "I...well, yes."

Despite the blush on her cheeks, her words are loud and clear. And they make you freeze long enough to realize Wanda was right.

Which just complicates things even more.

What the hell are you supposed to do now?

Wanda comes up with the answer for that question before you can even blink. And before you know it, she's inviting the brunette to her place, a seductive promise of "working things out" is the only hint either of you get about what she has up her sleeve.

You ask her about it at least ten times after Kate leaves and the two of you start packing up to go home. She doesn't answer, of course, and you force yourself to behave and be patient even though the mere thought of the brunette being allowed into your private world makes your heart pound in your chest…and your cunt clench around nothing.

Maybe the Bishop girl isn't so bad after all.

[hitomisuzuya]

Sleepy Sex with Aventurine… 🙏

I love him so much I think he would enjoy that kind of thing, early mornings, on a day when both you and him aren’t busy.. just laying together in basking in the light glow of the morning sunlight and what a better way to wake up than having morning sex…

If that makes any sense LOL

Anyways I love your writing and I hope you’re doing well reading this!!! 🩵

aventurine x fem!reader. soft smut. morning sex. fluffy.

i was smiling the whole time i wrote this.❤️ i love the way this request was worded🥺

when you opened your eyes in morning, you were quite sure you were waking up next to an angel. but even as that thought crossed your mind, you knew that aventurine would put even the most beautiful angel to shame with just one look.

at some point during the night, he'd rolled over onto his back, an arm still around you tucking you against him. both of you were still very much naked from the night before, your body littered with aventurine's bite marks of frenzied passion.

you adjusted yourself so you could lean up and place a few soft kisses on his neck. a few moments later, aventurine's hypnotic multicolored eyes opened. smiling sleepily, he put a hand on the back of your head, stroking your hair idly.

you returned his smile as the sun beam filtered further into the room. "morning," you greeted, "the sun beam decided to come further into the room because you woke up. it wanted to bask you in it's warmth."

aventurine's soft laugh sounded sleepy as he turned over on his side, bringing your forehead to rest against his. "the sun beam was telling me to move out of your light."

you gently nuzzled your forehead on his. "no, there is no way it was telling you that. besides, my hair is probably a real mess," you giggled.

"nonsense," he replied, kissing you once before continuing, putting a hand on your cheek and skimming his thumb gently across it, "you look more beautiful than even lady luck is," he stole away any other words of praise you would've had for him with another kiss.

you opened your mouth for his tongue, sighing softly into his mouth. soft silk sheets brushed on your skin, moving closer to him as he deepened the kiss.

the intimacy of kissing always made aventurine hard. the soft feeling of your lips on his, the noises you were making from the pleasure of having his lips against yours, his fingers combing through your hair as he explored your mouth.

you blushed feeling his growing erection poking against your thigh. you reached under the blankets, brushing your knuckles up and down his cock before wrapping your hand around it. aventurine let out shaky sighs, rutting into your hand as you pumped and stroked his cock.

you massaged your thumb around his cockhead, drawing soft, sleepy moans from him as he pulled away, his lips hovering over yours. he rested his forehead against yours again, his body trembling a little, enjoying the pumping sensation of your hand on his cock.

"i need to be inside of you now," he murmured, kissing you again. you rolled over so he could move on top of, spreading your legs to accommodate him. he chuckled sleepily feeling your juices immediately wet his cock. "wet already for me," he stole your lips into another passionate kiss, marveling at the sweet way you melted into him.

you wrapped your arms around him, deepening the kiss as you grinded against him. his cock pulsed between your folds. his teasing was true. jacking him off, watching his beautiful face contort with pleasure, listening to him sleepily moan. all of it made you very wet.

aventurine didn't believe in wasting a winning hand when it was dealt. caging you in with his hands at the sides of your head, he slowly pushed his cock inside. your pussy stretched tight and perfect, like it was made to take his cock.

his teeth nipped at your lower lip with a sleepy, satisfied groan as his cock sank into the warmth of your cunt. pulling away, he let you breathe for only a few moments to hear your moan of pleasure as he bottomed out before stealing your lips up in another deep, open mouthed kiss.

the way your pussy clenched on his cock made his whole body quake with pleasure. the long, slow, languid thrusts of his cock nudged deep and accurate into your sweet spot, rubbing against every sensitive part between your walls.

you writhed underneath him, clinging to him as you rocked your hips up. putting a shaky hand on his cheek, you pulled away as you caressed his cheek. "don't stop, please," you encouraged behind what he thought were the sweetest sounding moans.

aventurine is always driven to make you cum first. there was nothing better than your pussy squeezing his cock before he cums. "you sound so, so cute," he smirked hearing your shy squeak against his lips.

he adjusted his position so he could reach down and rub your clit. you always told him he is an angel. but to him, you sounded more angelic coming undone on his cock. you whimpered, soft and high pitched as your body twitched with the signs of cumming. "shh, cum for me, sweetheart. i've got you," you gasped in pleasure as his thumb circled your clit.

you were supposed to be the one taking care of him, but here he is, taking care of you instead.

you kissed him again, the knot of your orgasm breaking apart, your arms tightening around him as you shook from your orgasm. aventurine pulled away, he couldn't possibly bring himself to muffle your moans while you were cumming.

on the cusps of his own orgasm, aventurine increased his pace, fucking you through your orgasm as he chased his high. his head dropped down into your neck, nuzzling against it as his cock pulsed.

you stroked his hair, hooking a leg over his hip so he could thrust deeper inside you. the comforting sense of intimacy, coupled with your pussy squeezing his cock made cum ribbon inside of you. aventurine shook in pleasure on top of you, nuzzling into your neck again.

after a few long moments, he pulled out, remaining on top of you. "how about today, we just stay in bed. order room service and some drinks and just," he chuckled sleepily, grinning down at you, "fuck all day."

the ideal day off, in your humble opinion.

[tweetybaird]

Daddy’s Girl

in which carl finds a traumatized girl and works to heal her, but ends up confusing the poor thing in the process

tw: seatbelts everyone!, very angsty, heavy talk of sexual assault, daddy issues, traumatized!reader, reader calls carl dad- carl likes it, mention of a boner at the end, THERE IS NO SMUT IN THIS, idk i dreamed about this last night lol

“i wish you were my dad”

it was on a foggy afternoon when rick had asked carl to go on a quick run, just to see if he could find any more diapers for judith as she was quickly growing out of hers. instead he had found you in a cabin, tucked so deep into the woods he almost thought he was imagining things when he saw it. but it was real, and so were you. the beautiful girl he could’ve sworn was an angel. he told you so himself, and it quickly became your nickname. my angel, sweet angel, hey angel, c’mere little angel. he knew you weren’t like other kids your age, in the sense that, you truthfully had been traumatized.

the first night you stayed with carl he felt sick to his stomach, and the feeling never truly left till the next morning. you’d asked him, snuggled close in bed that night, if you’d have to ‘lay with his father.’ carl was scared to find out what that meant, but asked anyways. “well back at home, me and my sisters had to prove our to love to our father by being intimate with him before we started dating. i never got the chance to date after laying with my father, so do i have to lay with rick now?” carl swore he was gonna puke.

it took time, months even, for him to help you understand that everything you’d been taught was not love, but abuse. you were in denial most of the time, but he was patient, and you eventually came to terms with the fact that your ‘normal’ was not everyone else’s normal. carl taught you what it meant to be held, to be cared for, to have an honest relationship with someone without any intimacy involved. then, when the time came, he taught you that intimacy didn’t have to be painful, or something you should dread.

the idea of him becoming something more than a best friend to you had never crossed his mind. sure you two did things that couples normally would, like kissing, sharing a bed, he took your virginity for crying out loud. but he knew what you’d been taught growing up and he wanted nothing less than to scare you by pushing commitment onto you. so he’d never thought to want more with you. that is, not until now.

it was a friday night, and friday nights were always movie night. this week it was carl’s turn to pick the movie, and of course he picked a horror movie. you didn’t mind so much, in fact you loved horror movies. but this one was so realistic you could’ve sworn it was truly happening. you’d been curled up in carls lap from the moment the movie started; it was coming to an end now, and exhaustion was creeping in. you sighed, pressing your face against carls neck as your eyes started to drift shut.

“see?” carl whispered, tucking a blanket around the both of you. “i told you i’d keep you safe. ‘s just a movie.” you hummed in agreement, cuddling close and mumbled some nonsense about how tired you were. carl just chuckled, carding his fingers through your hair as he started swaying slightly side to side, rocking you to sleep.

i could get used to this, carl thought. maybe she could start staying in my room every night. and i could wake her up with breakfast every morning. and maybe on those mornings where it takes her longer to wake up i could brush her hair for her. and when she gets sleepy after movie nights on the couch i could carry her up to bed like i am now, all curled up in my arms like the angel she is. and maybe-

“wish you w’re m’ real dad s’mtimes”

and i could be like her dad. and-

wait.

she… oh.

that’s new.

carl froze halfway up the staircase, arms tightening around you. the angel in his arms stirred, the sudden stop pulling you out of your half asleep state. you hummed, a quiet thing, wondering what cause all the commotion. carl took a deep breath and continued up the stairs, walking the familiar path to his bedroom before tucking you in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before leaving the room.

carls step were hurried but not loud as he walked to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and falling forward, arms gripping the sink. that was never his plan. this wasn’t supposed to happen. all carl wanted was for you to understand what love felt like, what it meant to have a friend who wanted nothing from you, just to be there. it was during this thought process that carl realized his mistake.

he’d been correcting everything your father did to you.

my dad always made me wear a tight bun. carl learned how to do loose braids and ponytails, even asking maggie to teach him how to curl your hair. my father never let me eat sweets. carl brought you a cookie every night before bed. my dad told me that the only way to show someone you love them is by being intimate. carl taught you that you could have a relationship with someone without ever having sex.

he only ever did things right according to what your dad did wrong.

carl thought back to that moment on the stairs. the way that you’d slumped in his arms, trusting him to hold your weight. how your small fingers had gripped his loose shirt. the way a small puff of air left your lips before you spoke. the muffled words, “wish you w’re m’ real dad s’mtimes.” carl took several deep breaths to compose himself, sitting up straight and bracing himself to walk back in the room.

carl paused as his eyes noticed something in the mirror, his hand hovering over the door knob. he was hard. carl was aroused from you calling him dad.

…

fuck.

authors note: i’m back! did ya miss me🤭 part 2?

[aethes-bookshelf]

let me be your shelter || astarion/gn!tav

This is the result of an especially hectic exam season. I started writing this fic instead of having a meltdown lol Now that I have more time again, I decided to finish it :) I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: hurt/comfort (mostly comfort), gn!Tav (can be read as a self-insert), Tav/Reader is the one being comforted

Pairing: Astarion/Tav, Astarion/Reader

Wordcount: 1.5k

Summary: You’d always tried to be the strong, reliable one — a leader through and through, a shoulder to cry on for everyone else. Even after everything you'd been through, you put on a brave face. All the way up until you couldn't.

Luckily, Astarion's always there to pick up the pieces.

ao3 link

The sun was setting outside when you finally closed the front door of your house behind you, cloaking the entrance corridor in darkness. The straps of your pack were digging quite painfully into your shoulder, no doubt leaving angry marks on your skin. You threw it to the floor with a huff and closed your eyes for a moment,

The day's exhaustion rolled off of you in waves; hours worth of dust and grime stuck to your clothes and skin. Rebuilding the city after the Battle of Baldur’s Gate was a noble cause. It being noble, however, didn’t make it any less exhausting.

You tried running your fingers through your hair, but your hand almost got stuck in it instead. The firm tug against your scalp made your eyes water. Your back was on fire, your legs were on fire, your face was tacky with drying sweat. It was all so much, too much.

Curling up in a corner and staying there until the sun fell out of the sky seemed worryingly appealing. I still have to go back out there tomorrow, though, you thought. The ugly, choking pressure in your throat got tighter and tighter. Your eyes, still clenched shut, brimmed with tears.

‘Darling?’ called a familiar voice from somewhere on the other side of the corridor. ‘Why are you just standing there? At least light a candle or something. It’s not like you can see like this,’ the voice continued, getting closer.

There was the hiss of a match being lit; one, two, three candles lit up the darkness.

‘Well, not that you can see much with your eyes closed, anyway,’ said Astarion. All snark left his voice when he saw the first tears roll down your cheeks. ‘Oh, I wasn’t that mean, was I? Why are you crying, love?’

‘I-I’m sorry.’ Your voice broke. ‘I don’t- don’t know why, I’m just- just so…’ you trailed off as the first sobs tore out of your chest.

Just a few months ago, Astarion would be looking like a deer in headlights right about now. He still remembered the very first time you broke down after the whole Absolute-tadpole nonsense was over. After everyone else went their separate ways and you chose to stay to help rebuild the city and he chose to stay with you. Naturally.

The breakdown happened soon after. The second night the two of you slept in your brand new bed in your brand new house, the dam inside you just broke, shattered into pieces; and you were swept up in the current of the build-up grief and fear.

Astarion, as much as he loathed to admit it, panicked. He had no idea how to comfort people; after all, it wasn’t a skill necessary for survival for most of his life, so he never really bothered to learn it. He still hadn’t even after whatever the two of you shared at first turned more serious. You’d always tried to be the strong, reliable one — a leader through and through, a shoulder to cry on for everyone else. The stable one. The stable one never gets to cry, so you didn’t.

As ashamed as Astarion was when he realized it, he hadn’t even thought you could cry. It just never really crossed his mind.

Luckily for the both of you, he loved you far too much not to learn from his mistakes after that very first night of the rest of your life. He’d like to think he got comforting you down to a science.

‘Would you like a hug, my sweet?’ Step one was almost always physical contact. And not just because holding you became one of his favorite pastimes; rather, it was grounding for you to have something to hold onto when you got like this. Astarion would gladly volunteer to be that something whenever he could.

You didn’t trust your voice enough to answer, so you just nodded instead. You were starting to tremble; rarely a good sign. Whatever stress-induced breakdown was happening would probably be a big one.

Astarion knew better than to try to wrestle you from the spot you were standing in. It would do nothing except agitate you further, so he simply walked up to you and gathered you into his arms.

The moment you were close enough to hide your face in the crook of his neck, the sobs that had been building up inside you this entire time wrecked your body. You were wailing loudly; so loudly you’d be embarrassed if you had enough energy left in you to care.

Astarion winced slightly at first — you were close enough to his ear for it to hurt. Still, he held you closer, firmer. Just enough pressure to help you calm down.

Eventually, your wailing died down to sobbing, and sobbing turned into soft sniffling. He tried to run a hand through your hair; his fingers nearly got stuck in it, just like yours before.

‘Would you say no to a bath, darling?’ he said, voice soft and quiet. ‘I got some new scented oils a few days ago. I even paid for them this time.’

That got a small chuckle out of you. Your throat was raw and your face was even more sticky now; a bath sounded wonderful.

‘I’d rather like a bath, I think.’ Your voice was all scratchy. You’d probably have one hell of a time trying to speak tomorrow.

‘Come on, then.’ Astarion kissed the top of your head and gently pried you away from his neck.

Usually you were the one leading him everywhere; he supposed in moments like these it was his turn to lead you instead. He walked you to the bathroom, holding your hand. And he didn’t even comment on the snot you left on his shirt, which was a great show of understanding on his part — as far as he was concerned — although he did take it off and throw it in the laundry basket as soon as the two of you entered the bathroom. All his love for you didn’t mean he’d be okay running about in a snotted-up shirt.

He sat you down on the floor near the bathtub and filled it with water. He smelled each of the new scented oils with great consideration. The last thing you probably wanted at the moment was having to pick which oil to put in your bath, so he wanted to make the choice for you — and to make the right one.

After the bath was all prepared, Astarion helped you out of your clothes and walked you to the corner of the bathroom, where he washed most of the dirt off your skin. Making sure you could properly relax also meant making sure you wouldn’t be soaking in dirty water, after all.

Soon enough, you were sitting in the bathtub with your eyes closed. Right after helping you inside the bath, Astarion ran off to grab your favorite hairbrush. And now, he busied himself with detangling the mess your hair had become over the course of your day. He talked and talked all the while — about his day, about this awful thief he managed to thwart the other night, about the shopping trip he went on the day before — about everything and nothing, just to keep talking. Just to fill the silence with noise that would drown out your screaming, tired mind. He didn’t expect you to answer; it was enough that you listened.

After your hair was brushed, washed and conditioned, Astarion dried you off and brought you a freshly washed set of pajamas.

‘You need to sleep, darling,’ he said, handing you the clothes. He knew you were far too tired to argue with him on that. As endearing as your usual desire to stay up with him for as long as possible was, you needed rest — badly.

‘Will you stay with me?’ you said. You felt much better now that all the grime was off of you, but the thought of laying in bed alone made you want to cry all over again.

‘As if I’d ever leave,’ scoffed Astarion as he took your hand again, leading you out of the bathroom.

The coldness of his bare chest was a much needed comfort. You nuzzled closer to him as he threw a thick blanket over the two of you. He reached over to his bedside table.

‘I could read for you, if you’d like.’

You mumbled out a ‘yes’. Your eyelids were so very heavy, but the idea of hearing Astarion’s voice rumble in his chest right against your cheek sounded lovely.

He chuckled to himself. ‘You’re adorable when you’re tired.’

He started reading. You weren’t really paying attention to what he was reading, rather to the sound of his voice itself. The individual words and sentences blurred into one, continuous rumble. Listening to him speak felt like falling deeper and deeper into a pile of the softest pillows.

You were out before Astarion could finish the first fifteen pages of the book. He noticed by the end of page twenty. When he did, he gently put away the book and held you tighter against him. And he may or may not have left a few kisses on your forehead, but that’s neither here nor there.

Astarion got comforting you down to a science. And he was damn proud that he was the one you trusted to comfort you in the first place.

[vshiftsss]

RAFE CONFRONTING ME - (OUTER BANKS DR)

melodic notes and guitar strings squeaking underneath aurora’s fingertips filled the comfortable silence of the belmont family’s backyard. there was a house party – and by extension, a beach party – going on behind her, celebrating the discovery of the city of gold, el dorado. rory was part of the crew that found it; her, john b., pope, and the rest of the pogues found it, even after getting chased down by some greedy guy who wanted it for himself.

usually, aurora was all for parties and celebration, but tonight? she wasn’t feeling it.

not when she had to see rafe with his arm around someone else’s waist. not when she had to get unlucky and glance over at him right when he pressed a soft peck to sofia’s lips.

just thinking about it made her play the wrong note, the discordant sound startling her out of her thoughts. a grimace crossed over aurora’s face, her hands stilling against the six-string. rafe was taking up too much of her brain, just for him not to be thinking of her at all. love was cruel that way–unrequited love, anyway. there was a certain dread in knowing that the person you loved had someone else occupying their thoughts, someone else taking up their quality time. someone else seeing them at their highs and lows.

she knew she shouldn’t be dwelling over something she knew was over, but the girl couldn’t help it. rafe was just too good at weaving his words, too good at creating a fantasy in her mind with looks alone. she fell for it completely, and nothing could beat the utter feeling of stupidity that kept cycling through her mind. aurora placed her guitar on the grass beside her; plucking at strings and jumbling nonsensical lyrics together wouldn’t fill this emptiness she felt.

instead, rory decided to watch the stars–the various constellations that twinkled and blinked in the night sky, begging for someone to watch them shine. tonight, they had a spectator. a lonely girl searching for an answer in a sea of lights that couldn’t talk back.

aurora had a spectator, too. one she really didn’t want to see at the moment.

“didn’t take you as the brooding type. sitting all alone out here with your little guitar. don’t you think it’s late for writing love songs, aurora?”

rafe spoke from behind her, each of his words slicing at her heart individually. rory didn’t even want to look at him, in case his new girlfriend had tagged along. she wasn’t in the mood for introductions.

typically, when people didn’t respond to someone, that was a sign to leave them alone. but rafe was persistent in his jabs, obnoxious with his constant presence. that used to be a blessing in rory’s eyes, but now she felt like she couldn’t breathe. not with him around.

“come on, rory. the hell are you doing out here? i came here for you, remember? you know i can’t stand being around those dumbasses for more than five minutes.”

aurora’s eyes fell from the luminescent mosaic above her, hesitant to face the source of her pain. they did, nonetheless. glancing at the man standing behind her, trying their best to convey any other emotion other than anguish.

“i didn’t think you’d actually show,” she spoke quietly, taking her time to stand and face rafe. a chill passed over her brown skin, raising goosebumps across her arms. “could’ve skipped out on it. i wouldn’t have been mad.”

rory could see the gears working in rafe’s head, could see the confusion flickering in his gaze. she knew she was acting weird. there was no interaction between the two of them that lacked the back-and-forth banter and the side comments. his lips twitched, and he shoved his hands into his pockets.

hadn’t they passed the stage of awkward encounters?

“sofia wanted to support you guys,” rafe replied, his words a tad too sharp for the mood of the conversation. he was just as out of his depth as aurora was. “plus…i had assumed you at least wanted to see me. maybe rub your victory in my face like you usually do.”

a beat passed.

“...what’s going on with you, aurora? did i do something? is someone bothering you? ‘cause this isn’t like you.”

at that, aurora bristled. the more he spoke, the more her emotions acted against her. her emotions were telling her to rip open her chest and bare all her feelings for rafe, her dignity be damned. she could tell him how much it fucking hurt to see his smile shine the brightest when he’s with her. how much her chest ached when sofia was all he could talk about during their time together. there was so much aurora was holding back, and all she wanted to do was scream at the top of her lungs, to get rafe to finally realize he should be with her and not sofia.

none of that came to the surface, though.

instead, aurora blinked once, twice, then three times. her brain searching for a reply that didn’t show how desperate she was.

she came up empty-handed.

“how do you know what i’m really like?” she whispered, her words barely reaching rafe’s ears before the summer breeze snuffed them out.

rafe scoffed, his eyes landing on the roaring party going on behind him before they returned to aurora. he didn’t know what the hell was going on, but it was clear she wasn’t okay. even when she was stressed, aurora knew how to recover. it was something she prided herself on, and something rafe reluctantly admired her for. so he seriously didn’t understand why she had that look on her face–a look that showed she was bottling up far too much.

“are you fuckin’ kidding me, rory? i– we’ve spent so many nights together, and now you’re trying to say i don’t know you?” rafe asked incredulously, his fingers twitching at his side. “i mean, come on. let’s not act like we’re not friends now. i don’t know what the hell you did, but…you got me to like you. you got me to…to…i don’t know, like having you around. and we joke, sure, but i thought it was obvious that none of it meant anything.”

rafe continued to stare at aurora, his eyes scouring her expression for an answer. a reaction. anything.

“look, i know sofia has been takin’ me away from our usual meetups, but…but that’s my girlfriend, rory. she’s amazing. and i thought you would be happy for me, with how you reacted when i first told you about her. i didn’t think you’d become so distant.”

rafe shoved his hands into his khaki shorts, his polo’s collar suddenly a bit too snug to his neck for his liking. it was starting to get hot and uncomfortable.

“look. i don’t know what the hell’s going on with you, but i don’t fuckin’ like it. so whatever you need to say…whatever you need to get off your chest? just say it. because you’re…you’re acting weird, and i don’t know what i did wrong.”

their gazes met each other’s, and for a second, it seemed like the world stopped spinning.

for a second, it felt like aurora didn’t have to breathe, nor blink.

it felt like time paused, allotting her some time to decide whether she was going to ruin the friendship she had spent so much time building, or destroy herself.

rafe wasn’t making it any easier, either. with that confused, almost desperate glint in his eyes, begging her to open up and finally spill everything she’d been holding in for months. the temptation clawed at her ribs, prodding at the pounding organ underneath.

she was going to fuck this up. for the first time in years, aurora was going to fuck something up royally. and rafe cameron was the one taking the fallout.

her lips parted on a sorry explanation on everything rushing through her mind at mach speed, the words not nearly enough to suit this confrontation. she could already feel the imminent rejection surging through her like a bullet, searing through her heart and tearing its way through the countless walls she had built to protect herself from something like this.

i should’ve listened to the pogues. this was a mistake.

but just as the first syllable fell from rory’s lips, the rest of her sentence lodged in her throat. her eyes drifted towards the woman jogging over to them, her radiant smile and friendly chestnut eyes too gorgeous to ever forget.

it was sofia.

“rafe, come on! they’re doing shots out on the beach.”

aurora’s eyes went straight back to rafe, and much to her dismay, he was already being pulled away from the conversation. rafe turned to face sofia, a crooked, almost nervous smile severing the tension between him and aurora.

“baby, give me a second, alright? i’ll be out in just a bit,” he spoke softly, pressing a few kisses to sofia’s forehead before sending her back towards the belmont estate. he didn’t turn back to aurora, which only made this moment feel ten times worse.

“…i’ll give you some time to think on it. to figure out how you want to say it. but…you don’t have to take shit on alone, alright? i got you, rory. always have, always will. no matter how much you want to think otherwise.”

the silence stretched between them, with rafe not moving an inch. he didn’t want to leave her behind. not when aurora was so vulnerable, so lost on what to do.

on what to say.

on what to think.

but he had to make a choice. and right now, his girlfriend wanted him there with her.

at first, he only took one step. aurora’s eyes were starting to glisten now, her body instinctively turning away from anyone watching her. she didn’t need rafe to see her cry right now. her pride and dignity were already in pieces at her feet.

one step became two, two became four, and four became enough steps for aurora not to hear him anyway.

she had gotten out of the sudden confession, but at what cost? it was only a temporary respite, a brief buffer from the heartbreak that was destined to hit her like a truck.

aurora glanced up at the stars again, tears blurring her vision too much for her to see any signs they were sending her. she bit her lip, stuffing down the sob that was about to claw its way from her throat.

in the end, no one else could handle this except her, and the only way out of this was through.

END OF POST - HAPPY SHIFTING!

note… this is old, but i didn’t post it i think! if i did pls let me know…i don’t wanna make a fool of myself. the third one is in progress…but i’m rusty. trying to get out of writer’s block once again smh

tags… @avelineshifts @julianasversee @visualcve @miaojune

[onlyseokmins]

mischief maker • y.j.h.

Pairing: yoon jeonghan x fem!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), angst, priestess!au, fantasy!au, gods/goddesses!au Warnings: magic, mentions of blood, war, cruelty, tyranny - all that good stuff, mentions of religion (au-specific), violence (i.e. suggestion of murder), (death) threats, and possible gaslighting 💃🏻 jeonghan is an absolute FILTHY menace, light slapping, uh I wrote this so long ago and just finished it so lmk if i forgot anything?? WC: 4.2k A/N: also another thing rotting in my drafts </3 anyways kinda proud of this one but it's also obscene and hard to follow so sorry </3 let me know if you have any theories hahah!!! this goes hand-in-hand with Ashes and Cinders, so definitely recommend to read that one if you haven't already

"Look at how heavenly you are. The lengths you'd go, so dedicated to prove your servitude."

Droplets of perspiration turn into diamonds, littering the bare skin of your back that's exposed more than usual due to the disheveled state of your robes. Neither the dewy sheen coating your skin nor the cold stone you're pressed against causes the chill that sets off tiny bumps decorating your sweat-soaked figure. It is from the sensation of a plethora of tiny gems crystalizing against your heated body before they slide to the floor. 

Each precious jewel that falls creates a tinkling melody. Echoing the sound of the ones wrapped around your neck and sewn into the fabrics that were once draped elegantly over your curves as you moved through the temple.

It's difficult to focus when your eyes are nearly crossed. Your elegant, upright visage is beyond recognition. Instead, a depraved image is reflected in the pristine water of the blessed fountain that flows out into a shimmering pool encased by polished marble. You were always quite meticulous about upholding the beauty of the temple you oversee.

Yet, who's the one sullying all the hard labor the maidens endure under your watchful guidance?

Drool dribbles past your lips, sore and swollen from how many times teeth have bitten into and at them. Now, they have no choice but to stay open and release a series of successive, sultry moans being drawn out of you and resonating throughout the chamber. Head lolling and vision starting to swim, losing count of how many times you've been brought to and over the overwhelming peak of pleasure.

"How does it feel?" Sweeping back long, flaxen bangs out of his glowing gaze with the finesse a mortal man could only dream to possess after hours upon hours of fucking, Jeonghan smirks. Miniscule encrusted diamonds grow, glisten, and gleam, bestowing a dazzling glitter on his forehead before they drop. "How does it feel for your god to bury his cock inside this tiny blessed cunt, my precious priestess?" 

If a verbal answer was needed, the both of you would be shit out of luck. Fortunately, as a sentient being, he can hear the innermost thoughts of many. Usually a low murmur in the back of his mind unless he focuses on them or they are an extremely devout believer in prayer. 

And you just happen to be the high priestess of Yoon. The model of devotion. Possibly the only mortal capable of handling the god of the temple in his true, divine form. 

By now, he has to chuckle at how your little head is only full of nonsensical thoughts. More, more, more, and Jeonghan, god, Jeonghan are the only comprehensive things that cry out to him. Even within the physical tremor of your body beneath him and the fluttering squeezes of your pussy. So much pleasure writhes throughout your very being that it races like electricity in a wire and surges inside his own, erupting into unadulterated waves of even more bliss for the both of you.

He leers in victory. Bringing you to your knees was a lot harder than expected, especially for someone who was supposed to serve the people in his name. To be completely honest, he was the one who ended up on his knees first — cleaning up the tantalizing slick gathered between your legs with his tongue. It was after you had spread them teasingly upon his arrival, accidentally summoned to your bedchambers at the seductive cry of his name. Cock-throbbing whimpers that had fallen from your lips while pleasurably climaxing from your fingers dipping in and out of the wet warmth between your legs. Eager to let go after playing for quite some time with such sweet, pooling arousal.

That was the day he found out just how much more delicious you were than the frothy nectar of the gods overflowing from their goblets during festivities. 

And he had become addicted. 

But now, look at you.

Your saintly garments are an unholy mess. Saturated by a mixture of both of your releases, the pure white colors practically become transparent. Especially following an… unfortunate tumble into the holy spring.

Normally, it would be a punishable offense to defile the holy waters. But when it's a priestess capable of the most powerful purification skills being encouraged to ride the cock of the temple's worshiped being who very much doesn't give a damn — well…

It's why you're splayed across the pool's ledge, lower body on full display for the god to use. Not entirely the most comfortable of positions. But it's somewhat of a respite for your tender breasts that are littered with sore bites and nips from Jeonghan while he muttered praises bards might be inspired to repeat as songs if they weren't so filthy.

You're unable to think a single thought in that pretty head of yours. His hips snap rapidly at such a pace to bully his dick deep within your cunt and with the force that would've broken a human of the same stature's bones otherwise. Lanky, sinewy muscles buzz with a faint glow to match the radiance of his irises.

"What would the maidens that look up to you in awe think if they saw you like this? Your loyal priestesses that respect you? The followers that worship the ground you tread on almost more than how strongly they pray to me?"

You were an influential figurehead of society. Ever since you walked in the steps fate laid out for you by a grand oracle's prophecy, you became the pinnacle of holiness in the surrounding lands. Virginity as a requirement was only practiced in the days of the old texts, and though your romps with the handsome and beautiful people of the citadel were not fully behind you, Jeonghan would make sure no one else could ever satisfy you like he can.

Besides, who could ever fuck a human as well as only a god can?

His stamina is on a whole other level. Unthinkable for a divine being well known for his laziness in the so-called dignified parables spun by the mortal tongue for generations. Maybe it's fueled by the intricate bond formed between the two of you, but it would be a lie to say it wasn't by far the best dicking down you have ever received. Jeonghan's not the thickest cock you've taken, but he sure is the longest and knows exactly how to use it.

"Dirty little priestess, the way this sopping pussy clings around me like a vice." He scoffs at the realization. "No wonder even the mightiest of gods bows down and lays with his mortal queen every chance he gets."

The distraught huff torn from your lungs paired with filthy wet noises when he pulls out of your sloppy hole is music to his ears. Akin to the harps and flutes the muses and their delicate fingers pluck and play to grace the court of deities present among the clouds.

His palm splays out, flying across your ass cheeks with a resounding crack visually reflected by the responsive jiggle and wiggle of your hips following the cruel motion. Scratch that. He bites his bottom lip with glee, the same hand fingering your cunt to scoop up the mixtures of his multiple releases and yours from earlier. The delightful squelching is much better than the heavenly harps of the gods.

Jeonghan figures that's where you'll end up one day, sitting all pretty. Whether or not you'll be a divine being — he refuses to use his wily brain to think harder about that. Though with the way the two of you continue to defile one another, a trip to the underworld may be in your future cards instead.

He reckons you'd love the delightful heat of the lava baths and the cute little boiling bubbles that pop at the surface. Especially if you decided to sink down on his cock… the god shivers delightfully at the thought.

"Vices. How fitting for you mortals."

Tugging the back of your ear with his unsoiled hand so you can turn your head, squishing a cheek against the marble and blearily struggle to look at him through unfocused pupils. Still, you're able to make out the v-shape of his pointer and middle finger — and even the clear strands of arousal stretched between them — before he sticks his tongue out to lick up. All while maintaining eye contact with a smirk, continuing his venomous words.

"Silly brother of mine, wasting time to concoct a drink for the gods who have no need for refreshments. Stupid humans who attempt to brew it with their measly tools as an homage." His thumb returns to circle your sore clit, drawing out more garbled moans. "All those efforts when this," another swipe and he's slurping it up again and tossing his head back with a throaty groan of pleasure, "this is the real ambrosia."

Jeonghan, Jeonghan, Jeonghan, cries your body, your mind, and your soul.

So much that your very being resonates and calls out his true name, causing the god's aura to glow brighter. Dozens of rubies, crystals, jades, and emeralds spill out from his pores at the effort and exertion of his dick slamming back inside of you. It's more thrilling and stimulating than participating in the senseless wars his brothers like to lure him into.

Strength fills him like never before. No one would think the god of mischief would have many believers but humans were petty. They may pretend to walk the righteous path yet they thrive on the downfall of even those close to them. You delivered messages from the god with little thought, for greater forces spiraled his playfulness into much more ominous threats if they chose to — swallowing up his domain for their own brutal goals.

"Why do you not wish for more power?" you'd dared to ask him on the rare days he appeared at the temple. Lounging about on the architecture's high peaks without a care in the world. "Surely you could have greater control."

"My dear high priestess," Jeonghan chides. He's not completely unaware of the effect his acknowledgment of your existence and title has. "The strenuous move of my pinky finger is enough effort asked of me for the next millennium. That alone could cause a child's village to go up in flames just because of a little prank gone wrong."

Your posture remains as refined and poised as always, yet your eyes wistfully trace his features — wishing it could be your hands instead. "I see."

"I imagine the creator molded me the way I am for the benefit of the world. Think of the havoc I could wreak if I was motivated to do so?"

Unbeknownst, the creator did take it into account. Though they made no concerted effort to intervene in the consensual exploitation the mischievous god took of the beautiful priestess. Or maybe it was the other way around? Fully aware of the unspoken thread weaving through the temple of Yoon, content to watch the god become more interested in life as he whispered in your ear. This time, bold words that were definitely not meant to be relayed to his followers. 

The creator let fate be, for the current gods can only fall for a new world to rise.

"Ambrosia that would bring a transgressor due enlightenment and a savior," Jeonghan continues with a dark chuckle, "or a god to their knees. All for this sinful, perfect little cunt."

Moan after moan leaves your mouth, shamefulness long gone the minute the god saw your spread legs, and his azure eyes were immediately drawn to what was in between them. His cock continued its brutal assault, pistoning in and out of what he deemed the world's finest treasure.

"But no one will ever get a taste of this one. It's mine. Mine!"

His slender fingers wrap around the back of your neck. Surprisingly, he lifts your head up gently — just enough for you to nod your head at his growl of "Isn't that right?", though when only more drool drips out of your mouth, Jeonghan shakes your head roughly in a "yes" motion.

"I could break you," he hisses as if he hasn't already nearly done so. "You are as fragile as a blade of grass in my hands." Another harsh slap lands on your backside. "Yet so resilient to my wrath, this hole of yours is always so welcoming. Why?"

Yours, yours, yours.

Jeonghan agrees with a feral growl, one not of this realm. Like a sounding bell and beckoning call from the vast unknown, it sends a vision flashing across your eyes. The sun freezes in the sky with its brilliant, harsh glow yet the world turns eerily cold and not into dust and ashes as expected. Then the sky turns black, a terrifying darkness, and a howling moan of despair. 

The moon joins its counterpart like two eyes glaring at the universe. They shudder in tandem, vibrating at a shaking frequency until you realize. They are staring right at you, unwavering. Like a face. Like a reflection.

A crash and a boom and a roar — then you're coming undone on Jeonghan's cock for an unbelievable amount and length of time. Shuddering as the world falls apart inside your brain, screaming and writhing though not quite in actual pain as the god kindly fucks you through your climax.

"Turn you into one of us, then you would no longer have such a weak mortal body. But even that's not possible… unless it's the creator. Perhaps even then…"

You don't register his words and maybe it's good you don't. He refuses to bare the heart he doesn't have. An ultimate weakness. Not like his foolish brothers. 

And yet…

While waiting for the shaking of your body to subside, his hands ghost over your form as if to ease the trembling. Listening to your heart rate until it no longer beats as crazily as you find rest in lean arms that cradle your body without sexual intention for the first time since the god's descent. After placing your weary body in the fountain, you're soon lulled into a dreamless doze by the soothing lap of the tiniest of waves against your skin and Jeonghan's gentle caresses.

You awaken much later. Feeling a lot more refreshed by some well-deserved rest and your innate healing powers aided by the holy spring's rejuvenation. Flowers in varying shades matching the luminescent color of Jeonghan's eyes litter the bed. Surrounding you with the same sweet scent when in his embrace. Picking one up, you thumb at glossy petals that remind you of the god's silken hair and smooth skin. 

Truly a symbol of his likeness.

"Priestess."

Your head jerks up when the subject of your thoughts silently materializes. A scratchy throat turns even drier and makes it hard to swallow upon spying a glint of silver pinning up Jeonghan's long locks. Another symbol — this one of the god's chilling wrath — is a spear disguised as a fragile hairpin. 

Carved from the bones of an ancient beast slayed by a hero of legends, the shining spear was crafted and embellished by the hands of a talented blacksmith gifted it in the name of his fellow brother and deity. The one that stands before you now, Jeonghan, the god of mischief. 

Tales of the legendary weapon thrown from his slender fingers and whistling through the battlefields to mercilessly strike down foes and enemies alike are documented on ancient scrolls in the oracle's grand library. As the only other one with access to such rare treasures, you'd poured over the delicate artifacts for days to learn more about the god you serve, eyeing the tiny circlet that hangs around his neck, certain it's the powerful aegis that supposedly wields the ability to turn those into stone.

"Drink." A chalice disrupts your view of the god and you take it, grateful at least for something to soothe how parched you feel. If he even notices your anxiety, he stays quiet and sits on the edge of the bed. Playing with a flower stem until you finish, the representative plant somehow looks both foreign yet perfect in his hands. "You saw something, didn't you?"

"Some sort of vision. One that was quite… frightening." 

"Describe it to me."

"Th-the gods. I think, my goodness, I am certain that they were at war."

As you explain in greater detail, weaving your tale of the bleak sun into it, Jeonghan's sapphire irises grow darker. Colder. By the time you've finished, the stem he'd been twirling in his hands has snapped in half and you no longer dare to look him in the eye even when he hums.

"The sun… hm? How interesting."

"Yes." 

You nod knowingly, and he lets out a dramatic sigh. There's a shing! noise and the god stands, a visible aura radiating around his form as the fearful spear elongates, revealing itself. It looks less deadly than described in stories, though you suppose no one who has been pierced by its shaft has lived to tell the story of its killing nature. Delicate and thin with a beautiful glow around it in this peaceful moment. But you know better than to trust what the eye — even one as perceptive as yours — can see and shudder.

"Is it the holy war you fear? Doubt that you'll receive a divine blessing of protection?"

A wry smile graces your lips. "I don't need to worry about being protected. It is my duty to defend the temple no matter what."

Jeonghan snickers, remembering the sharpened tip that almost grazed him. Caught off guard on his first visit when a priestess greeted him with a nocked arrow rather than a subservient bow of respect. And who knew he'd end up bedding that very same priestess, addicted to your body and all that it offered him. 

"Nothing will strip away the divine barrier encasing us so easily," you also point out and he nods, eyes lifting to the sky displayed through the high, open arches of your sleeping quarters. 

"I suppose you're correct. Though I do not know if you'd be able to fend off all my brothers…" The god lets out an undignified snort. "I do not believe they are planning an uprising so I must see what this vision of yours could be about." Jeonghan stretches, sending a lazy grin your way. "Do you trust me?"

You think back to gentle touches after a rough session. Whispers of sweet nothings and meaningless pledges when he thought you had drifted asleep. Waking up clothed in gossamer silk — a gift each time — and various reminders of his touch in the aches of your body that had yet to recover, visual ones scattered about the bed you rested upon each time. 

You recall what your purpose is. The oath you must uphold is proven by your namesake. Your destiny. And more. It is something you cannot forget. Ever.

"Of course," you assure him and Jeonghan laughs carefreely. Like he can't believe your faith in him himself. Neither can you.

He shakes his head, strands of hair shining like gold threads. Taking the chalice from you and lifting your freed hand to place a chaste yet flirty kiss to your knuckles. "Don't forget about me, my priestess. I'll return soon."

Another empty promise. Though you don't refute, playing along with his teasing remarks of you welcoming him back with open legs. Bidding the god a rather casual farewell before he disappears — but not with a wink followed by a bright flash and loud thunderclap.

Once you've sensed his presence is truly gone, you rise from the bed. A lyre sits in the corner and you run your fingers melodically across the taut strings while refining your appearance. You have a job to do after all.

The shrill cry of a raven draws your gaze to the open window where the black bird lands. It hops around, tilting its head curiously and rustling feathers expectantly. You smile, laying out a collection of gems on the ledge for it to inspect and play with. Summoning the maidens of Yoon, you speak to your confidante, stroking its midnight plumage while waiting for them to make the journey up to your chambers.

"Foolish gods, always underestimating. Jeonghan may have forgotten… everyone must have cast it from their minds." Your avian companion lets out a low croaking noise, nuzzling your palm with its beak as if to comfort. "But I… I will never forget." 

Do not. Forget.

Don't you. Dare. Forget

"I won't. I can't."

The voices in your head would never let you. And they will only get louder as time marches on, especially without Jeonghan by your side. But that is neither here nor there. You can't do anything about it except the one thing you — and only you — can do. 

By the time the eldest maiden has ascended the steps, you are alone again. Dressed in the purest of white robes and not a hair, jewel, or garment out of place. There are no black feathers, radiant jewels, or azure petals found in the humble and barren chambers of the high priestess. Just you, with your hands clasped together, and a fixed smile on your face.

"It is time." None of them notice the empty look in your eyes as they bow before you, heeding the declaration that comes from your lips. "It is time to spread the prophecy to the world. The real one."

"Yes, Mother," comes the obedient chorus.

The young women's eyes remain cast downward out of respect and the ambience of power emanating from you. For though they loyally represent the god of mischief, there could be no higher honor than serving a greater goddess such as yourself.

Jeonghan is clever. Wily. Smarter than he lets on which can be a true asset to those unsuspecting. But by no means is he ambitious. He is young too, and though the shell you reside in was destined to be his high priestess, the ancient bind to your soul has a stronger pull.

"He is coming," you murmur to yourself as the maidens set about the command you've ordered.

There's a warm glow bursting from the horizon, a fiery heat swathed in a tender caress making those erratic flames calmer. Softer. You're accustomed to what should be a sweltering wrath full of rage and the indicative hint to the tempered nature makes you smile. But the fuzzy feelings are tainted by a bitter tang of what is to come after the god of the sun's visit.

And so you prepare yourself for Seokmin to bring his eager request in your private chambers, stroking the head of your elusive feathered companion at your side while you wait. Watching as the sun rises higher and higher and an auburn-haired figure makes his way closer and closer.

Meanwhile, a flaxen-haired god's grip might nearly snap the spear he's holding in half. He stares at his eldest brother, aghast.

"You're lying."

"I am many things, Han, but I am not a liar."

"Brother —"

The king of the gods holds up a hand. "You don't have to believe me but it is the truth."

And though Jeonghan wants to fervently deny it, the dragged-down weight of his mortal shell's bones fight against what his godly head refuses to acknowledge.

He's brought back to what he was envisioning while bored out of his mind at his brother's lengthy counsel session. You — touching yourself, needy and forlorn without him there to fill you up — and him — returning to find such a scene and punishing you in the most salacious way possible.

But it's warped by his prophetic powers, proving his brother to be correct. Instead, you call him to bed and of course he follows, seduced by the way your body moves and everything else he wouldn't dare admit. And just as he finishes painting the inside of your cunt with all that he's worth and more, heavily spent from the throes of passion — you strike. Like a cobra lying in wait for its prey.

"Why?" is what he pathetically says as golden ichor drips from the corner of his mouth. The dagger you'd struck into his chest hurting a lot less than the actual damage truly dealt to what no human should ever be able to touch — his heart.

Blinking out of the painful vision, Jeonghan scowls at his brother. "You didn't know we've had an enraged primordial goddess on our hands?"

"Don't turn this on me when you've been fraternizing with said goddess."

Just as he's about to retort, the sudden darkness below the heaven's distracts both gods. The sun slips from the skies and a wail of grief so loud and chilling echoes, the harkening sign to the beginning of an apocalypse. The end. And for the first time ever, they feel a rush of emotion they've never felt in their whole immortal lifespan.

Fear.

As if that's not the worst of it all, he hears your voice. You're slyly drawing on that mental connection between the two of you, so that the phrase can be heard so crystal clear that his knees almost give out at the damnation you've orchestrated.

"And so… let the gods pay as they fall."

onlyseokmins: September 2024 ©

[greg-montgomery]

hi hi!! can i maybe request a rly cute and fluffy one shot of aaron just comforting and taking care of the reader 🥹

like maybe there was a thunderstorm in the middle of the night and reader subconsciously just runs to hotch’s room and he comforts her udhaidbsjanxb

also maybe a cute lil age gap to feed my daddy issues pls pls pls

ANYWAYS ILYSM NEVER STOP WRITING, I LIVE FOR UR STORIES BB

hiiii!!! <3333 thank you for the cute request and your sweet words!!!!

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Nothing would ever beat sleeping in your own bed. Nothing could beat the comfort that the fresh scent of your sheets brought you, or the little light you always left on the entire night since you were a child.

Being away for a case meant you had to learn to sleep without those comforts. And you were really good at it; but the thing you could not get yourself to adjust to, were the unfamiliar sounds of a new place. Sometimes it was the sound of a passing car, and others some annoyingly loud neighbor.

That night it was the sound of a thunderstorm. And the hotel you and the team were staying at was definitely not soundproof enough to let you sleep in peace.  

You had been tossing and turning for more than an hour, unable to calm your heart down. It wasn’t just the thunders that scared you; the rain was pouring like crazy and the wind was almost whistling. Suddenly you felt like a little kid again, afraid that the walls weren’t thick enough to protect you from the strength of that storm.

Taking a deep breath you closed your eyes and gave trying to fall asleep one last shot. But at the sound of another thunder, the face of a certain man appeared on your mind.

Hotch.

The truth was when you thought of “safe”, you thought of him: your boss who always had all the answers. Maybe it was his older age or his intimidating appearance but he made you feel like no matter what the problem was, he would fix it. Hotch always made it better.

Without thinking about it twice, you got out of bed and ran to his room. Well, you didn’t have to run much anyway, since his room was right across from yours. He’s definitely awake, you thought; always staying up most of the night to work on the case while everyone else rested.

That was why you were surprised to see Hotch wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants answering his knocking door. But the thing that made you the biggest impression was his disheveled appearance. Sleepy Hotch was the cutest thing you had ever laid eyes on.

“Y/N? Is everything alright?”

“Hotch,” you whispered, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think you’d be asleep. I’m gonna go back to my room.”

You made a move to turn around but Aaron was faster and grabbed your elbow, gently pulling you into his room.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he said closing the door once you were both inside.

“I was scared,” you admitted. Seeing him raising his eyebrow in question you continued. “Of the storm...”

You were relieved to see a little smirk on his face. You guessed he was relieved too after finding out that the thing that scared you wasn’t something actually dangerous.

“I’m sorry I woke you up. I don’t know why I’m here.”

“It’s okay.” As tough as Hotch looked, he was the most gentle man you had ever got to know. “You can always come to me about anything.”

And you had the audacity to wonder why he was your safe place?

“I know.”

He sat on the edge of his bed and patted at the spot right next to him, signaling you to take a seat; so you did. You were close enough that you could smell his after shave. It made you dizzy.

“Have you slept at all?” he asked.

 “No. And I’m tired.” You let out a heavy sigh. “Maybe I should just pull an all nighter.”

“Nonsense.”

“But-”

“What if you sleep in my room? Will you still be scared if I’m right here?”

Your stomach was suddenly filled with butterflies.

“Wouldn’t that be inappropriate?” you asked.

“I won’t tell if you don’t” he said, and offered you his pinky finger to cross yours with.

You did it with a huge grin. "Deal."

“Come on now,” he said playfully while getting under the covers. Without any hesitation, you did the same, finding your place at the other side of his bed.

It was almost perfect; almost, because his arms weren’t around you, but instead were resting on his stomach.

“Hotch?”

“Hm?”

“Does the offer come with cuddles too?”

“You wanna cuddle with your boss, honey?” he smirked, and reached out his arm so you could curl up in his embrace.

“Yes, please,” you said, and the two of you ended up in each other’s arms. Being around Aaron had always felt safe, but being in his arms? That was a whole new level of safety and comfort.

“Good night, Hotch.”

And just like that the sound of his beating heart made it hard to focus on the rain hitting on his window.

His lips on your forehead and the words “Good night, sweetheart,” were the things that finally lulled you to sleep.

[thatswife]

Typically, Billy sleeps in as little as possible, tossing and turning under his singular, navy blue sheet. The soft fabric somewhat mimics a loving touch. If you're drunk enough, that is. And tonight, he's definitely flying high. Something new was in Vicki's damn Halloween punch. As soon as he kicked off his shoes and shed his clothes like a second skin, he was out like a light. He doesn't dream. His subconscious is bitter. Empty. Cold. Not that different from hell, I'd imagine.

Something cold trickles down his spine, and he wiggles around trying to get it off without opening his eyes. Probably sweat. It's nothing.

Sunlight peeks out from behind lily-white curtains before he knows it. He winces as he sits up slowly, everything a blur. His head is pounding. Fuck. Morning already? What day is it? Fuck that, what time is it? How long have I been out?

A greedy hand rips his covers off him. He hisses, eyes wide. "What's the big deal?"

"You first," Steve Harrington says, his voice coming out pitchy and cracked. "Why are you naked in my bed?"

Billy sits up at that, groaning. He squints up at Steve. "I don't know," he admits.

"That's all you have to say? I'd say put on some clothes, but you puked on them, so I threw them-"

"You threw them away?"

"God, no! I probably should've. Relax, man, they're in the dirty clothes. You know, where dirty clothes go."

"Fuck off," Billy says eloquently, stifling a burp. "You like 'em drunk, Harrington?" He raises his eyebrows, which just makes his headache worse. Goddammit.

"Gross. I like them dressed."

"What was that?" Them? Is he saying I have a shot? I thought he was strictly into chicks. Hang on, is this a dream?

Steve grumbles something nonsensical under his breath, throwing a bunched up ball of formerly folded clothes at Billy's chest. "No, no, no, don't get up! Are you out of your mind?"

Billy shoots him a dirty look. Fuck you, he thinks. Fuck you and the sun. "Cut the theatrics. Nothing you haven't seen before. Didn't know you were such a prude." He shrugs off the sheet a bit when he shifts positions. He's getting bolder and he knows it. He knows just where to push. Sure, he's playing with fire, so what? Maybe he likes being burned a little more than he should.

"What, you mean the showers?" Steve still hasn't turned around. "Bold of you to assume I've been looking."

"I know you're looking now," Billy says smugly, kicking free from the sheet once and for all. Steve's bug eyes immediately find his chest, then trail down to his cock.

"It's small," Steve remarks, shrugging it off a strange smile tugging at his mouth.

Ignoring the urge to pound his face in for the sake of their game, Billy just bares a feral, forced grin. "Perv."

"How'd you even get in my bed, anyway?" Steve deflects, crossing his arms.

"Don't you remember bringing me up here?"

"I think I'd remember that. Was I any good?"

Billy nearly chokes on air. "Christ, Harrington, I was joking!" My face is red, isn't it. Flaming. Since when does Steve play like this? I'm gonna have to up my game.

And then he wakes up. For real, this time. But the smile? That fucker's real. So's the boner.

[weirdsht]

LOL HI I HAVE A THOUGHT AGAINNN HEHEHE

Cale and the gang with someone who's a mermaid? They're scared shitless because of the insanity their fellow merfolk are expressing towards creatures that haven't done them anything too big. They can be transmigrated or just simply too self aware of what kind of people they are going to face if they keep meddling with other creatures' affairs with no reasonable explanation.

I love mermaids lol 😞

It can be platonic or romantic. I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE 🔥🔥🔥

Out of Their Minds - LoTCF & Mermaid! Reader

notes: thank you for enjoying my fics! I wrote something more lighthearted this time because I'm realised I kept writing angst. Low-key wanna do a pt.2 of this ngl. Also I know betta fishes live in shallow water but they are the most magnificent fish I have laid my eyes on so I wanted to use them

tags: mermaid reader, male reader (it wasn't planned, i was addressing to reader as a man before I could realise it lol), set after cale heals paseton, paseton/reader if you squint, i made a bunch of bullshit information about mermaids since there isn't much known about them anyways

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist Out of My Mind (pt. 2)

Sigh 

“This is what you get for working with shady people…”

You stare at the three mermaid corpses on top of a big rock. It was the middle of the night making the sight more eery. It makes you nauseous. Especially as you notice how one of them is armless.

However, you didn’t pity them.

“Serves you right to be honest.”

You whispered in the corpse’s ear as you sat on top of the boulder. Your mermaid tail swaying against a part of the rock that has no mermaid on it.

“How did you lose your arm though? Did you anger the Whale Tribe so much that they took your arm as a souvenir?”

Looking at the sea you wondered who killed them.

“Maybe it was that ruffian called Archie? But I heard rumours from the fishes that the Whale King will beat him to a pulp if he goes too far.”

Humming in disbelief, you continued talking to the corpse as though they were still alive.

“Hmm, but you guys crossed the line first so I guess doing this much to your bodies is nothing.”

You started thinking about what happened to the mermaid tribe as of late. Some shady organizations came and made a deal with them. You didn’t know much but you heard the organization called Arm was asking for a sea route.

“Wait, it’s kind of ironic, isn’t it? You’re working for something called Arm and you lost your arm when you died.” 

With your index finger pointing out, you tried to poke the cheek of the armless mermaid. But alas you couldn’t do it. Too disgusted at their mummified looks.

��Eww, you all look so gross. Why am I even sitting on top of you all? I’m gonna go back now before that weirdo magic spearman who keeps calling himself my hyung looks for me.”

Grimacing at the thought of the guy who insisted you’re his family now, you tried to get off the boulder you were sitting on. You may be an orphan, but you aren’t desperate to acquire new family members.

Shaaaa

As you try to climb down, you hear a soft splashing sound from behind. It sounds like water being manifested out of thin air.

Wait… Water out of thin air?

That could only mean the Whale Tribe. Not just ordinary ones, but one of the Shickler’s children.

Panicking, you tried to turn around while climbing down. Which only resulted in you falling off the boulder and landing hard on your butt.

“Wait wait wait! Is that a sword? Oh my god, it’s Paseton. Wait no should I call you his highness Paseton?”

Teary eyes and mouth spouting a bunch of nonsense because of panic made the half-blood whale stop in his tracks. Usually, when he encounters a mermaid they would spare no time attacking him.

“Are you about to discard those bodies in the water?”

“What? No way! If I did that those weird people would find me sooner.”

“Weird… People?”

Paseton lowered his sword and you relaxed a little. You wiped your tears with the back of your hand before addressing the whale’s confusion.

“Yeah! You should know about it already. I heard the turtles talking about how the mermaids are haunting you because you found out they were working with humans! Oh, but you don’t seem hurt, good for you!”

You gave him a thumbs-up as if you weren’t on the verge of crying because you fell earlier.

The half-blood whale finds you weird. It looks like you have no intentions of hurting him. In fact, it looks like you’re supporting him?

“...You’re that rumoured eccentric mermaid. Son of the previous mermaid leader.”

“No need to make it sound good. I know the rumours actually call me crazy and not eccentric. But yes that’s me, the crazy orphan whose parents got assassinated by mermaids. They're the real lunatics if you ask me.”

Paseton hesitantly shook the hand you offered.

“But why are you here? I heard you’ve gone missing and the mermaid tribe are worried sick looking everywhere for you?”

“You’re one to talk, I heard your sister is going crazy looking for you too.”

Letting go of his hand, you began to explain what happened.

“You already know about it but the merpeople are getting help from above ground. That was also why they assassinated my mother, the previous mermaid leader. She wanted to straighten out the relationship between our tribe and yours. She also initially refused the offer that the humans made. Look where that got her.“

Because of that you became wanted by the merpeople too. They framed it as looking for the lost heir but what they really want is to capture you to exploit your abilities.

As thanks for not killing you, you explained your special abilities to Paseton. Your poison is three times stronger than normal mermaids. You also possess the ability to heal any poison that comes from water and it’s creatures in it. Another special ability of yours is transforming into a fish. A secret ability that only the direct blood of the true mermaid leader can possess.

“My poison is strong enough to do this.”

Stretching your arms, you demonstrated your poison to Paseton by letting it out on the mermaid beside you. This rendered the already armless mermaid tailless.

“The sight is disgusting each time. Not pretty at all.”

You gag as you watch the mermaid’s tail turn into green goo before it sizzles, leaving no trace behind.

“So what do you think? I was planning on leaving these bodies but I can get rid of them for you. In exchange, you’ll let me be on my merry way.” 

Paseton nodded and you took that as a cue to start disintegrating the corpses with your poison.

“Where do plan to go now?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. The mermaids have gone crazy, I’m too scared to even look at them. Both the whales and the whale tribe won’t leave me alone if they see me because they’ll think I’m one of those lunatics. Maybe I’ll forever transform into a fish and create a fantasy nation and call it Lemuria or something.”

You said it in a joking manner but Paseton can see the fear in your eyes as you talk about the merpeople. At that moment the whale tribe prince pitied you. You have essentially become an outsider with nowhere to run to.

He was about to make an offer when a water whip struck beside you.

“See? That’s what I’m talking about, now a water whip is out to kill me. Wait waterwhip? Witira?!” 

You desperately looked at the man in front of you.

“Hey, I helped you get rid of the bodies right? You said you’ll let me go right? So please explain to your sister I didn’t do anything.”

“What are you doing to my brother?!”

Witira’s angry voice from behind made you look at his brother more desperately. Paseton nodded as he walked towards his sister.

“Noona stop, he doesn’t mean any harm. We were just having a chat.”

“With a mermaid?”

Paseton begins explaining what happened to Witira. From how he gets help from a noble to you helping him get rid of the mermaids. He also explained how you’re on the run from the mermaids and the people working with them.

As Paeston speaks you tried to use their distracted state as an opportunity to go back to the sea.

Keyword being “try”.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You feel the humpback whale half-blood scoop your fish form from the shore. 

“A betta fish huh? You’re quite pretty.”

Good thing you’re a fish so the siblings wouldn’t be able to see you blush. Your fins did shine a little brighter though. Light blue with a red and white undertone that makes you look purple glistened under the moonlight. 

But there’s no way they’ll know that’s how you show being flustered in fish form so it’s good.

“What do you want with me? I already did my end of the deal~”

You whined and flopped around Paseton’s hands, throwing a tantrum. The man only chuckled while his sister watched in amusement.

“Yes, yes. But I want to make another deal.”

That made you stop flailing around.

“Turn back first. The water in my hands is running out, you already splashed most of it out.”

Obeying, you transformed back into your mermaid form. You expected Paseton to put you down then. However, he didn’t and decided to carry your bridal style instead.

He may be the weakest of the whale tribe but his still stronger than most humans.

“So what do you want?”

You crossed your arms, pouting because you lost your chance to make a getaway.

“Well, I was thinking of taking you back with us. You have nowhere to go right? You can just live with us.”

Both you and Witira looked at him quizzically. 

“What’s in it for you?”

“We’ll use your abilities when fighting the mermaids. You also have an information network that consists of sea creatures right? We’ll use that too.”

“Those are my friends, not a measly information network thank you very much. Also, didn’t you hear what I said earlier? I’m scared of mermaids now. I can’t even look at them.”

“Who says you have to look at them?”

You questioned what Paseton was saying. Meanwhile, Witira observes his brother. She agrees with his plan. After hearing what happened to you and your abilities, she knows you’ll be a useful card.

However, she knows her brother. And she knows that the way he's looking at you means more than what his entailing. He also seems confident that he’ll get you to go home with them before the sun rises.

Hmm, maybe that’s her fault for spoiling him too much…

“You don’t have to face them yourself. You don’t even have to leave the Whale Tribe village if you want. You’ll just have to use your abilities from far away and help us defeat the mermaid tribe.”

“...”

You mulled about it for a few seconds. It’s not like you have anything else to lose as you already lost everything. It is also true that you have nowhere to go. Your sea creature friends can only hide you for so long before you have to run away again. It also doesn’t seem like the humpback whale is lying.

Plus Paseton is pretty cute.

Wait what?

“So I don’t have to face them?”

“No.”

“Will I have my own house?”

“Hmm, not yet but I have a house that’s separate from our family residence. You can live there with me”

“Not bad… You promise I won’t meet them right? Including those crazy people that keep calling themself my new family.”

“I promise.”

“Can you buy me a large fish tank that’s installed in my house?”

“Making demands already? I’ll have a custom-made fish tank and pool, just for you.”

“Okay, deal!”

You raised your arms in celebration, already thinking just how beneficial this whole ordeal was for you. You’ll just have to provide them with your assistance that’s being used for the greater good and you’ll be spoiled as a compensation? Sweet.

Witira only shook her head at your conversation. She could already tell she had a lot to explain to her father once the three of you go home.

Oh well, as long as her brother is happy.

[r-neonstories-r]

-Bashful Thinking | Rengoku x M! Reader

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{Author's note: to be clear, I haven't finished Demon Slayer, but I don't care for spoilers- I stopped watching at the start of the train ark, so before Rengoku died. Spoilers of things after this event don't affect me as I really don't care much. ALSO I'VE POSTED FOR THE FIRST TIME IN FOREVER}

° Requested?: No•

{For requests and rules: here!}

° Type: Smut•

《☆》marks the start & End!

° Warnings: Bottom reader•

° Length: Short•

{1,344 words}

° Challenge: Actually writing this is my Challenge, I've never written a Smut before- and ontop of a character ive never written before? Yeah I'm sorry if it's bad T-T•

° ProofReading?: No•

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Trees swayed as the wind picked up, and only the sound of slight tapping against hardwood could be heard Inside the flame hashira's estate. A lone male walked along the corridors, He couldn't help but make way to the courtyard, watching the way the flame headed man trained hard, sweat dripping down his brow.

" ! " The flamed male looked over at the sound of steps on the wood, only to see a long familiar face. " Ah! Y/N, It's nice to see you've come out of your room " With Rengoku's unusually quieter voice, it caught the other off guard. Y/N only shifted in place, looking away to check if anyone woke to the other speaking before he spoke himself. "Yes... I couldn't sleep..." He trailed off, but his wandering eyes trailed over the others form, 'im no better then a woman-' the thought came as soon as his eyes flicked back up to the flame users face, feeling slightly guilty at his oogling.

Rengoku gave a hum, chuckling at the way the other looked at him. " Well, we can't have that now, can we? " his smile was bright as he gave a grin at Y/N, already wiping the sweat from his brow before he made his way over. " Care to walk with me? If you cannot sleep, then I can offer my companionship. " Y/N tilted his head back, looking up at the male in front of him before his ears heated up. " Are you sure? I wouldn't want to ruin your training time, "

" Nonsense little flame, let's walk. " The flame hashira set his hand onto Y/N's back, guiding him to walk inside the estate. The silence was loud for a little while, the moments of silence through the night were like a knife cutting into Y/N's ears as they burned so much. Rengoku didn't pay attention to the flustered one's antics, instead letting the wind speak for a few more minutes.

Walking through the halls, the shadows of candles flickered and the old wood creaked. The silence continued before the taller voice came out. " Y/N, you often have trouble sleeping at night... Is there any reason? I find myself thinking I should have you change rooms if this continues "

"Ah- like, changing rooms closer to you?" Y/N jumped at first, letting himself sway slightly in the hall. " But No, No. I'm alright; i really just suck at falling asleep " He gave a weak laugh, not really being able to fathom having a room closer to the hashira's. 'That might just make me have an even harder time anyway...' Y/N shook his head, rounding the corner before stopping and crossing his arms. " Besides, I don't need more excuses " He huffed lightly.

" Excuses? " Rengoku raised a brow, tilting his head as his eyes trailed over the smaller's face, stopping beside him. The way the candlelight only reached half of his skin made him sigh. " Little flame, the only excuses you have are in your mind, you just don't wanna be roomed so close to me. " The hashira gave a smile, wrapping an arm around Y/N, voice becoming only a bit louder before Y/N shushed him in scolding.

" Keep your voice down... last thing we need is someone waking up and questioning why we're up, " Y/N sighed loudly, running a hand down his face to soothe his burning ears. He was having a hard time right now, the way he loved the way Rengoku was, but way too affectionate for his taste. It all just made Y/N flustered, wanting to crawl into a hole and die like the demons the flame hashira has met. " You're aware that you're gonna be the death of me, right? "

Rengoku gave a laugh before pulling Y/N closer to him, nuzzling his head into his hair. " Only the finest of deaths for my little flame, but not before I get to treat you like the prince you are " He gave a grin that pressed into the smaller's hair.

---

Rengoku held Y/N's face, his larger hands warm on the smaller's skin. He gave a grin as he beamed, watching the way the other squirmed every time Rengoku rubbed his back. " So squirmy little flame " He laughed lightly, leaning back with him in his arms.

" Stop that- " Y/N shivered before scrunching his nose. He sat up on top of Rengoku's waist, looking down at him. " And you wonder why I don't want to move my room closer. " *Elliot sighed, pushing Rengoku's hair out of his face before he leaned down and pressed his forehead against the other.

《☆》

The sound of a shivered breath broke through the room, Y/N was pushed into the bed shivering as he bit his lip, trying to keep quiet as he felt like his skin was on fire. It burned, being uncomfortable. The flame hashira had been slowly pressing his fingers slowly into the male, curling one as he tried to be as soft as possible. " I'm sorry, bear with it for a little longer " Rengoku gave an apology, feeling sorry that he was the one who was causing Y/N the discomfort.

" Mgh... It's fine, just- " Y/N shivered, closing his eyes. " It feels weird, " he gave a sigh, pushing himself into Rengoku's pillows as he could feel the drag of the other's finger pads against the soft insides of his body. It'd been so long since they actually did anything, with Rengoku having to be away from his estate for so long on trips, trying not to die from demons and such, that it really made no time for just the two of them.

After moments of preparation, Y/N could feel himself give way, relaxing a bit more as he just gave a soft hm every time he could feel the male press into him. It wasn't long before the sound of clothes ruffling was heard, clearly trying to be quiet. Y/N looked back with tired eyes, watching the flame Hashira undress.

Muffled Soft cries and gasps filled the room, Y/N biting on Rengoku's arm to keep quiet as the other was hunched over him, chest into the other's back with one arm around the smaller's waist. Rengoku's breath was warm on his neck. With every press into the mat, Y/N could feel his knees burning, the only cushion being the mat and blanket under them.

Y/N bit a bit harder into Rengoku's skin, making the larger male hiss lightly. "Little Flame- careful, " Rengoku's hair fell forward, brushing against Y/N's skin. Every press was like heaven and hell for Y/N, as if his insides were getting rearranged slowly.

Y/N's head was pressed into the pillows by Rengoku's hand, gripping his hair. The smaller had lost biting privileges for now for biting too hard, probably making a mark that would scar later on if not taken care of. Y/N was practically crying into the pillows as he arched his back, eyes shut with overwhelming pleasure.

Rengoku was biting at the inside of his mouth, continuing to press deeper into the smaller. Every thrust, every push, was like a rumble through Y/N, It rocked his bones. But it didn't take long before a sputter of liquid seeped into the other's entrance, making Rengoku slow down and press deep into the male, leaning down to kiss Y/N's nape. " Are you tired now? " Rengoku's voice was grumbled but pleased with himself, pressing kisses along Y/N's skin before he pulled out, making the other whine for a moment.

《☆》

His body felt like it was on cloud nine when he fell asleep in Rengoku's bed. But the moment he woke up, it was hell. He was so sore. Y/N opened his eyes, his body was tightly wrapped in the blanket with Rengoku's arms wrapped around him. 'Fuck... thats the last time we do that in his room. My knees are too old for this' Y/N whined mentally, pulling himself more into the blanket with a struggle.

__________

__________

[mrs-kodzuken]

hard to desire ⨟ kenma k.

chapter three

wutiwant saraunh0ly

❝More awake inside of my dreams, was that really you next to me?

Gimme what I want, who am I supposed to please?

Who am I supposed to please?❞

previous chapter next chapter

You couldn't help but to get absolutely fucking frustrated with Kenma. After so long, the little petty act from him had gotten so deep under your skin. You weren't one to tolerate something so stupid and childish, especially when you were nothing but courteous.

Kenma had somehow caused you to stop refraining from your usual nice manner and instead seemed to have brought a hateful part of you out.

It had all started when you had changed your seat in a class, seemingly nothing right? Wrong.

Apparently, the universe hates you because as you roamed the seating options, choosing once further in the back before class started, you had dangerously realized that Kenma had this class too.

The burning hatred on his face was more than known when you also apparently took his exact same seat. He stood there with his books in hand, now a bored expression on his face as if he was waiting for you to automatically get up.

"There's no assigned seats, find another one." You side eyed him, a cold tone encasing your words. A scrunch of his face was duly noted when he walked across the room, avoiding a seat near you as much as possible.

Somehow, that filled you with excitement, giving the exact same energy back to him as he had been doing to you.

That's what his mean ass gets, you smirked to yourself. However, you couldn't help the hot and cold shiver of excitement that coursed through you. Suddenly, it was extremely hot in the light brown sweater you had picked out today.

Kenma on the other hand, knew that you had this class with him on the first day. From that day forward, he watched you like a hawk. Every movement, every sip from your pink water bottle, every single interaction you'd have with a classmate.

He'd be in the back watching you, unable to take his eyes off the way you were just... you.

He couldn't help but to act like this towards you. You messed his life up from the beginning, knowing who you were even before you guys had properly met. The crosswalk incident never seemed to have crossed your mind when you saw him. It had been in his mind ever since he saw how absolutely beautiful you looked, listening to a song he knew which made you even more attractive in his eyes.

Anyways, deep down you knew that this eventually would not solve anything between you two. You actually had to talk with Kuroo about this now, before it really got too far. That's not something you really wanted to do though.

Class had blown by in a breeze, you couldn't stop staring at the back of Kenma's head as he wrote down notes, doodled a bit in his notebook, and even stretched to avoid cramping.

You were so enthralled with him; you could sense it. You shoved that down to only wanting to be friends and not wanting to fight with your roommate.

"Kuroo, I just feel like Kenma doesn't really like me." You confessed, sitting on the couch at home, wrapped in a blanket.

"Nonsense, Kenma can be ... something, but I'm sure he just hasn't warmed up to you yet." He spoke so surely that maybe you just have imagined the past few interactions with Kenma.

Except... you haven't. Kenma truly was being a dickhead to you, you knew that much.

Kenma on the other hand, knew he was too. He couldn't stand that you actually live with them. Your presence –your scent– was everywhere even if you weren't there at all.

He couldn't bare it anymore. The lustrous thoughts of you filled his mind and he loathed it. He loathed you. But he couldn't help himself when you and Kuroo were out of the apartment, and he took a peek into your room.

He found it girlish and utterly weird to say the least, however, that didn't stop from taking an article of clothing from your dirty hamper. Kenma felt so dirty, so invasive, but he was getting unbelievably hard at the fact you might have worn these the night before.

Your pink and white dotted panties with a pretty bow on them taken by Kenma as a trophy. The dirty act of doing it sent an electrical shock down his spine, he hated you so much, to the point where he craved you so badly.

His hard cock had strained against his underwear and sweatpants he had so often worn. Seeing a dried wet stain on them was the straw that broke the camel's back for him. Kenma's eyes were lidded with lust, knowing that he didn't have nearly enough time to fully please himself with this article of clothing till you or Kuroo came back to the apartment.

You didn't have a clue of any of this, of course, only focused on telling Kuroo to talk to Kenma for you – not wanting him to hate you anymore.

And you definitely left out the bits where you've cussed back at Kenma or sarcastically responded back just because he decided to be an extra asshole like. A recurring memory strikes especially during the Saturday nights where you had made dinner for everyone on the weekends, but he insisted that he was sure it would kill him if he ate it.

"If you say so," You responded, picking at your nails, not having anything else to say or better to do.

"How about you come with me? I was going to go meet up with some friends from high school and I'm pretty sure you'd like to meet them." Kuroo says with a smile, if you hadn't known any better you would think that he was trying to cheer you up from the nonsense that Kenma was on.

"I guess." you sighed, deciding that you'd use this opportunity to make some friends outside of class and get your mind off of Kenma's antics towards you.

It was a brisk walk that you and Kuroo took, catching up on his classes and how he was doing lately since it felt like you both haven't really talked a lot lately.

He was going on about how he has been staying after lectures to help some of his classmates with work they were troubled on. In Kuroo's head, it just seemed like the perfect excuse to help you, and Kenma got along better when he wasn't around. Clearly, so far it has been backfiring.

No matter how many times Kuroo tried to talk some sense into Kenma, obviously knowing how you feel when he acts like such a dickhead to you, he just wouldn't budge. He'd claim that you're the one who is always provoking him.

"Oh, so that's why you've been wearing those so much? I thought you finally realized how well they suit your face but no, you got a compliment from a girl." You rolled your eyes, giggling at how silly Kuroo was sometimes.

"She was cute, okay?" He tried defending himself, knocking on the white apartment door you guys arrived at, blushing ever so slightly at this girl he had class with and occasionally helped her with her work.

Luckily his escape from this conversation was when a man opened the door. He was tall, broad shoulders, and had a funny spiky updo of white-gray hair that had black streaks in it – it didn't look half bad.

However, the most peculiar feature about him wasn't his build, or his hair, not even his clothes, it was eyes. Those eyes... were strange to say the least. Round, stark golden-colored eyes watched you like a hawk – no, like an owl. It was almost eerie how similar you could compare the two together.

He looked attractive and magnetic to be around, you understood why Kuroo was friends with him after all.

"Hey, hey, hey! Kubro!" The man interrupted your thoughts, embracing Kuroo into a man hug.

"Sup bro! How have you and Akaashi been?" Kuroo asked as they broke from the 'bro hug' and the man opened the door wider so you both could enter.

"We're great! Who's this little thing here?" He peered down at you, a wide smile on his face which suited him a lot.

"Hi, I'm Kuroo's roommate. Y/n." You returned a smile back at him, his joyous grin becoming infectious.

"Ah, I remember now. I'm Bokuto, this is my apartment that I share with my boyfriend!" He announced to you, which you nodded to, not really sure what to respond with.

"Kaashi! Come meet Y/n," The man loudly called for, who you were guessing, his lover.

A man emerged from around the corner of the living room, you assumed that's what it was. He was wearing a sweater that suited him nicely matched with a pair of black slacks. He had glasses on, which flattered his angled face very well. If Bokuto was handsome and magnetic then Akaashi was pretty and elegant.

"Kou, you don't have to shout. I can hear. Hello, I'm Keiji Akaashi," He extended his hand to shake yours – something Bokuto hadn't done.

"Hi, nice to meet you." You shook it, being polite and offering a smile.

"Would you like some tea?" You answered yes to the offering, turning away from what Tetsu and Bokuto were talking about and followed Akaashi into the kitchen. It was very homey here, and even smelled great. He put a kettle on and let you choose which kind of tea bag you'd prefer.

You let out a gasp, seeing your favorite tea in the mix, which was cinnamon apple spice. "This one please, I love it so much!" You couldn't help but to gush.

That caught Akaashi's attention, and he immediately turned toward you, a newfound friend he could speak to about tea.

"Tell me about it, I love the after spice it gives." He smiled; it was alluring. It made your mind wander to Kenma and how he'd look when he smiled, not his usual grimace that covered his face when you were around.

After a few mindless minutes of comparing favorite teas and even going so far to discuss different brands the topic switched to something else – or someone else. And that twisted your stomach in knots, however, you weren't too sure if it was a good or bad thing.

"So, you're rooming with Kuroo and Kenma? How has that been?" He sat across from you at the glass table, both holding and sipping the teas.

"Well..." You trailed a bit, slightly chewing the membrane off the inside of your cheek. You didn't really know how to phrase how it was going.

Eventually, you went with your gut and began, "Honestly, living with Kuroo has been a breeze. I've known him since I was in primary school so there are no bumps in the road with him." Not even bringing up Kenma until he just had to ask.

"And Kenma?" He questioned, finding it weird that you had only mentioned Kuroo and not the other roommate you were also living with.

“Uh, it’s been fine, I guess.” You were going to leave it there but you just couldn’t help yourself.

“Honestly, he’s been really fucking mean. Ever since the day I moved in, it feels like he’s hated my presence and I don’t even know what I did to him.”

“He’s just so infuriating sometimes and can't even bear a simple ‘thank you’ when I try to include him in things or get him his favorite coffee.” You grumbled, letting out more and more of a rant to Akaashi who was just sitting there, looking at you so intently while you spoke. It was as if he was silently urging you to continue.

“Don’t even get me started on the sassy ass remarks he loves to give me on the off chance he’s not trying so hard to avoid me. I’ve tried everything to be his friend and he’s just not budging and I don’t know what to do.” You sighed, finally out with all of the mess that’s been troubling you for the past weeks.

You knew it had to be quite some time that you’ve held all that in since it was the end of September.

“Hm, would you like advice?” He peered down at his now half empty cup, the tea delicious.

You peered up to him, surprised.

“You’d give me advice on how to deal with him?” You asked, curiously.

“Well, yeah. I’ve known Kenma since high school so I ought to at least give you some advice on his antics.” Akaashi explained as if it was desperately obvious.

To you, though, it wasn’t. However, you still nodded him along to tell you what you should do.

“It’s simple, just keep being nice when you can. Kenma can get under peoples skin sometimes but I guess we all have known him so long that it doesn’t really affect us anymore.” He spoke with intent, getting up to put his cup in the sink.

Keep being nice? It sounded like a load of garbage to be completely honest, but Akaashi had known Kenma for a while, along with Bokuto and Kuroo. So, you guess you had no other choice but to follow it. 

Soon, the hang out was over and you exchanged numbers with Bokuto and Akaashi. You enjoyed that you had a nice advocate for you if you needed it – meaning Akaashi, or Keiji as he asked for you to call him.

You felt better about your hardy relationship with Kenma and planned to fix it too. Plus, it was nice to rant about your troubles to someone who listens very well.

They make a great couple; you thought as you and Kuroo walked on the way back to the apartment. The evening chill, flickering lights of streetlamps, and tugging your sweater close to your skin was so dulcetly ephemeral to you.

Your eyes started to lid, yearning for your bed as you couldn't keep up with the conversation of Kuroo telling you about how he and Bokuto met.

"You know, I'm really grateful for you," You suddenly felt sentimental when that left your mouth. Memories of Kuroo and you since you were young fleeted through the front of your mind.

Kuroo turned towards you with a curious look, "I'm exceptionally grateful for you, Y/n."

There wasn't any more talking till you both arrived at the apartment. You wondered in another universe if you and Kuroo had ever been actual siblings instead of found family siblings.

synopsis: it's the summer before you go to university, and you decide to become roommates with your pen pal that you've known since you were in primary. big problem arises, he's got a roommate, and it just so happens that his roommate either has a sexual want for you or hates your guts – or probably both?

tag list: [let me know if you’d like to be in the tag list!]

@geektastic84 @lavanderdreamve @hhoneyhan @kirikeijii @marsoverthestars @nymphsdomain @justagirlnamedkai @kodzukein @74zix47 @kakuzone @jaeminaur @3lectraheart

a/n: i hope you enjoyed, and the idea for this entire multi-chapter fic came from @deftrow !! i made the banner

[snzcaretaker]

𝕳𝖆𝖞𝖋𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗

Below are Edwin’s journal entries from his time suffering from hayfever - and realizing he's in love <3 He's pining again...when will he get it through his head that he matters to Ambrose??

March 4th - Curse it all! Spring is the worst sort of season! For a few short weeks, I had been well, and even had some hope of enjoying the good weather. Then the March wind tore the pollen from the head of every blooming thing, and stuffed it directly up my sinuses. Head so clogged I can hardly speak without someone tittering at the sound of muffled consonants. Constantly dripping, and at the same time burning like the devil himself has taken up residence inside my nose. I should know by now that this is my luck. If it's not the damn cold, it's the flu, and if it's not the flu, it's hayfever. I am wretched, as a definition.

The worst of it is that I dare not say a word to Ambrose. I began to really hope, when he was caring for me. I felt such strange feelings…a kind of safety. With him, I can bare not only my heart, but every ailment of my body, even the most disgusting. His eye will behold everything and make it beautiful. I felt soft and open and happy when he was here.

But I can't bring him back. It's one thing to have a friend wait by one's sickbed, but to call for help over hayfever? Just because of a little discomfort? There's no excuse for it. So the state of my nose puts me in mind of illness, without any of the comforts afforded to someone facing real danger. For the first time, Ambrose made me capable of thinking of myself as attractive when I'm in this state. A creature worthy of being touched. And now every sneeze fills my mind with affectionate daydreams and impacts my body in the most humiliating ways. I find myself frustrated in all senses of the word. But I've said more than enough of that.

March 6th - If I could stop sneezing for five minutes together, I would be in better spirits. But as I cannot, I have been cross all day, and the servants make every effort not to place themselves in my warpath.

I know I'm intolerable, and for no good reason. It's all just a nuisance, and to speak of it as anything worthy of note is both disgusting and alarmist. I am NOT dying, much as I feel like it, and so I have no excuse at all to be held or to be - no, I won't finish a sentence like that. God, what is the use in putting down such frivolous thoughts? I really will die if I ever read them back - of blushing. I need to banish such thoughts from my mind, but to see them on paper is almost worse. To anyone else reading this diary: please burn it.

March 9th - Oh god. I'm in love. That's what it is.

Took a turn up the hill behind the stables, hoping that the morning rain would have settled the pollen. Instead, it chilled the air more than I might have liked and turned the landscape maddeningly rich with colors. The blue of cornflowers, the pink of wild roses, and the gentle yellow of cowslips glowed under the re-emergent sunbeams. But there is no sunshine without my Ambrose, and my eyes dewed over to match the lingering droplets, and I couldn't help watering the flowers with many lonely sneezes and tears. How melancholy I felt!

Am I so pathetic that I want Ambrose near me even when I am not really ill? There is no danger at all, but I want…I want someone to talk to. Some company, an arm in mine… Someone to share the flowers with… Someone who will see me as the pitiful thing I am and hold me together anyway… Ugh… what nonsense. My throat is sore but not as sore as my heart. Sick or not, I am lovesick. I think I will go to bed today.

[doumadono]

hey I hate to bother you but I have an emergency request. Could you write a Bakugou x Reader short where he talks the reader through some big decisions regarding the reader’s possible career path where they’re having to chose between going off and having a 9-5 job or going to continue their family farm? I’m about to graduate in the next year and my parents have been shaming me for wanting to help restart our family farm while I’m off in college.

( we had to sell most of our animals after bad droughts five years back to back, so it’s been incredibly bare as of recent and I’m going to college for Agriculture anyways, so in my mind everything makes sense).

I don’t necessarily want a big fancy job, and honestly nothing makes me happier than working animals and it’s just been hard on me to try and please my parents while also still trying to go out and do what I want.

Harvest of choices - Bakugo x Reader

A/N: please stay true to your goals, and trust that with your dedication and education, you can make a significant impact!

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST - PART 2

The city skyline stretched out before you, a dazzling array of lights and towering buildings that promised endless possibilities. The air was crisp, a stark contrast to the earthy, familiar scent of the farm you had grown up on.

You stood on the balcony of your temporary apartment located in Musutafu, clutching the job offer letter in your hands. This could be your future - a stable 9-to-5 job in a reputable company, the kind of career you had always dreamed of. But the thought of leaving the farm, your family, and everything you had known was a heavy weight on your shoulders.

Your phone buzzed, breaking your contemplation.

The screen lit up with a message from Katsuki Bakugo: "I'm outside. Let me in."

You sighed. Bakugo was never one to mince words, and you knew he would force you to confront the decision you had been avoiding.

Opening the door, you were greeted by his intense, crimson gaze, eyes blazing with the determination you had come to rely on. “Took you long enough,” he grumbled, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “What’s going on with you? You've been super off for a few past days, nerd.”

You held up the letter, the official seal of the company catching the light. “I got the job offer. They want me to start next month.”

Bakugo’s eyes flicked to the letter, then back to you. “And you’re freaking out because…?”

“It’s not that simple, Katsuki!” You grunted, your voice trembling slightly. “Taking this job means leaving the farm, leaving my family and everything I am familiar with behind... They need me there, and I don’t know if I can just abandon them.”

He crossed his arms, leaning against the wall with a stern expression after he entered your apartment. “So, you’re stuck between the fancy city job and staying on the farm. Let’s break it down.”

He motioned for you to sit on the couch, and you obliged, grateful for his no-nonsense approach.

Bakugou took a seat next to you. “First off, this city job. What’s so great about it?”

You took a deep breath. “It’s a stable career, good pay, and I’d get to use my degree. It’s something new, a chance to grow and prove myself in a different environment.”

Bakugo nodded. “Sounds solid. Now, what about the farm? What’s it mean to you?”

“It’s home,” you replied softly. “It’s where I grew up, where I learned the value of hard work and family. It’s a part of me, and I don’t want to let my family down. They’ve sacrificed so much to keep this place running.”

Bakugo’s expression softened slightly, though his gaze remained intense as he ran his calloused hand through his messy hair. “Alright, so you’ve got strong ties to the farm. But what’s really stopping you from making a decision?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I’m afraid of making the wrong choice. If I leave, what if the farm fails? And if I stay, what if I’m giving up a chance to do something more with my life?”

Bakugo placed a hand on your shoulder, gently rubbing you there with his thumb. “Listen, you’re not gonna know for sure if you’re making the right choice until you make it. That’s just how life is. But here’s the thing: you’re strong, and you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. You’re not the type to let things fall apart, no matter which path you choose.”

His words, though blunt, held a truth that resonated with you.

“But what if I fail?” You whined, shaking your head.

“You won’t,” he said confidently. “And even if things get tough, you’ll figure it out. You’ve got people who care about you, who will support you no matter what. And if anyone gives you trouble, I’ll blast ‘em to pieces.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, the tension in your chest easing just a bit. “Thanks, Kats. That actually helps.”

He smirked, his usual cocky demeanor shining through. “Damn right it does. Now, let’s talk strategy. If you take the city job, how can you make sure the farm’s in good hands?”

“Well, I could hire someone to help out, maybe even a manager. I could also come back on weekends to check on things and help out where I can.”

“Sounds like a plan. And if you stay on the farm, what’s your strategy for making it more successful?”

“I could look into new farming techniques, maybe diversify our crops or start a small agritourism business. There are a lot of possibilities if I really put my mind to it.”

Bakugo nodded approvingly. “There you go. Either way, you’ve got options and a plan. You’re not going into this blind.”

You felt a surge of determination, the fog of uncertainty beginning to clear. “You’re right. I just need to commit and give it my all, no matter what I choose.”

“Exactly,” Bakugo agreed, his voice steady and reassuring. “And remember, you’re not alone in this. I’ve got your back, and so does everyone else who cares about ya. So stop doubting yourself and make the damn decision.”

With those words, you felt a renewed sense of confidence. “Thanks,” you chuckled softly, leaning forward and giving him a hug. “I needed that. Thank you for always having my back."

He hugged you back, his grip strong. “Whether it’s the farm or the city, you’re gonna kick ass. I am sure about that.”

[hils79]

Hils Watches Lovely Runner - Ep 11

Had a few days off from watching anything while I attended the Up All Night asian drama convention. Ironically I talked a bit about this drama on a panel about time travel in dramas, even though I haven't actually finished it yet 😅

Anyway, now I'm ready to resume. I think I can more or less remember how the last episode ended...

What does renting an adult movie have to do with him kissing his girlfriend in public? Is that frowned upon in Korea?

Sunjae has just found out that Im Sol is from the future, and in that future he dies when he's barely into his 30s. All he is concerned about is that Im Sol's mother saw him kissing a girl on the street and might not like him now.

God, I have missed these idiots.

Sunjae doesn't know how he dies but what he does know is that there's no way it could possibly be Im Sol's fault

Oh shit I totally forgot Sunjae's dad currently thinks he's on a plane to the US. This is not going to go well when he finds out...

He is so gone for her. I love him.

Oh, yeah, he missed the audition for the band so he's no longer on the path to becoming an idol now. That means no expensive skincare products for free because looking good is your job

Oh my god all his stuff is on a plane to the US even if he isn't

Hehe! Well, at least the reveal was mostly comedic

Wait, I thought she didn't want him to become an idol to keep him safe

Oh no are we going to end up with another totally different version of the future where Sunjae isn't an idol and her brother and bestie don't end up married.

And now a bag full of condoms intended as a joke wedding gift has ended up in Sunjae's bag by mistake. I'm glad we've eased up on the angst for a bit to do some more lighthearted nonsense

Oh my god he bought them matching phone charms. He is such a loser (affectionate)

I know something terrible is going to happen soon. They're all happy and in love and there's still another 5 episodes to go. I'm glad they get this for a little bit at least.

I am getting so much secondhand embarassment from this whole scene, but also I can't stop laughing. IT'S RAINING CONDOMS 🤣

I am crying I'm laughing so hard. Two star-crossed lovers torn apart by a shower of condoms

He just went into his mind palace to figure out how the condoms got into his bag. This might be my favourite episode so far, as much as I'm enjoying all the time travel and the angst.

I love that grandma is heading up this whole intervention

Well, after that delightful little subplot we are now back to the serial killer who may or may not end up killing Sunjae

Did his dad really get him to go and update Im Sol on the case and tell her that she's in danger. THAT IS LITERALLY THE JOB OF THE POLICE NOT THE FASHION HOUSE SON OF A DETECTIVE. The cops in this really do suck even by k-drama standards.

He is honestly the most sensible character in this whole drama

Uh...you haven't even tried though? The first time he got you it's because you went outside to stop Sunjae getting rained on in the park. Take Sunjae and find a cabin in the woods or something. Or go to America with him.

Okay, dude, you need to dial that back a bit

Taesung is like 'we spent the night together we're bros now'

Aww now they're both drunk and pouring their hearts out to each other

Well if they were buddies after Taesung slept on Sunjae's couch I don't know what snuggling in the same bed like this makes them

Ooh is Sunjae going to sing at their last gig and get back on the idol path?

Ooh they caught him! Except there's still another 5 episodes to go so clearly it's not over yet

Aww there we go he's back on stage

Oh sweetie...

Yep, there we go. Of course he escaped.

But, hey, we got through a whole episode without the sad Jongho song playing even once.

[byrdstrolls]

As You Wish

(teehee, this features a lot of guys! tythus from @moonlit-trolls, the lady of the lake from @celestialtrolls, and finala from @roetrolls!)

(Also please be so nicey to me I haven't managed to write anything in three months)

Dear Diary, 

Five perigees into my leave from the fleet, a strange calm has overtaken me. I’ve found the eye of the hurricane, or some layer of insanity that hurts less than the first. I’ve started to have lunches in the cafe down the street, on the patio. Dangerous, I know. But I am a pack animal, by nature. I could lock myself in this apartment only for so long without breaking. Sitting there, it’s like being surrounded by people while being alone. Even if I talk to no one but my waiter, it’s better than nothing. There have been close calls, inconsequential ones. 

But still too many. I do not think the worker at the place suspects a thing, or would even know what to suspect, how to suspect correctly. I feel like an open wound. But enduring in my silence, none of them can tell. Of all people to have this affliction, it could kill me most surely. I do not trust my fellow troll as far as I could throw one. Now every stranger I meet holds my soul in the palm of their hand. I could die tomorrow. I could not die for sweeps. But what kind of living am I even doing anymore? I am so bored. 

The terror has become second nature to me. I learn quickly around fear. I touch a burning stove, I pull back my hand. My only guiding light, relief, is my research. It would be so easy to fail. But I would try a hundred thousand times on the off chance I could have back my life. Even so things move…

…torturously slow. I need to understand what happened to know how to fix it. But I don’t even know where to start. I have wiled away so many hours reading, finding books to read in the bibliographies of other books. But I don’t know what I’m looking for. I don’t know how to discern esoterica from nonsense, skill from parlor tricks, grifters from sages. 

The uniform does not help. One can hardly poke around the city dressed like a fleet officer asking around for magic trolls before those very people start climbing out the back window! It’s too hot for it anyways, even in the cold season. Curse this thing. I will wear it to my funeral. But as I said at the beginning of this entry. Things are just as bad as they have ever been, but it doesn’t bother me anymore. I woke up early yesterday, and watched the sun set from the window, sky dancing in fragments through this tiny place. And I felt a certain stillness, and a strange gratitude, that no matter how humbly I lived now, how much I missed other people and my hive and ship and privileges, things could have been worse. I made it nearly half a sweep. 

I have been very lucky. 

I just need a little more luck now.

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Midway through their lunch break, Leftie peaks over the desk of their stand at a figure who has fixed themselves at the front of the alleyway. At first they thought they were exceptionally huge, but on a second glance, they are just significantly huge, and have on an absolute monster of a coat. Probably fleet. They glance at their own signs, the sandwich in their hand, and then pointedly scot over their chair to face the opposite direction. 

“Excuse me-” The cerulean says, taking a step forward. 

“Excuse me” Leftie retorts. “What does this say?” They say, pointing at the sign on their stand. 

“It says closed, back in thirty minutes, but-” 

“Exactly” The purple replies. “Leave me alone” They order.  

“Nonononono” Viscos mutters under their breath, immediately turning away, walking down the street, they throw up their hands in frustration. 

“G-dammit” They mutter, pulling out their journal and crossing Lefties name off a list. All that poking around, and they had failed so quickly, decisively, and immediately. 

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I shouldn’t have come here, Viscos thinks, but the same protestation entered their mind in a variety of places, from gas stations to libraries to restaurants. So it’s a little more difficult to take it seriously now, even with its precedent. An entire church sect is something more dramatic than some small time magic user. But maybe it was time to be more dramatic, it’s nearly been a half sweep after all, maybe they are this desperate. They can always leave, until they can’t. 

“I understand you are not willing to share the details of your affliction with me.” The hulking mass of the purpleblood says, his plague doctor’s mask tilted ever so slightly downward to stare at the fleet troll. 

“But is there anything you could deluge… anything at all? How does it affect the body? What organs? How did it begin?” Tythus asks. 

Viscos stares up at him for some time. 

“No,” They say. “I can’t tell you that.” 

“As… impossible a task as you have proposed” The man pauses. “To cure a curse without being told what it is, I would try for you.” He says, templing his hands, then pointing them downward. “All I would ask is you stay some time on our commune, working, to repay your debt to me”

“...here” Viscos mutters vaguely, glancing out the apothecaries window. With all these other trolls? 

“Could I serve my time after I’ve been cured?” The cerulean proposes. 

“I… need some kind of assurance you would not run off and take advantage of my kindness. Besides, to figure out your, interesting little puzzle, it’s best for the two of us to get to know each other, right?” 

Viscos stares into the dark black eye holes of the mask, thinking. They had made it this far, farther than they had with other witches. Maybe it was the time to throw caution to the wind. But the reasonable, paranoid voice in their mind that clutches caution so close to their chest their knuckles whiten, calls it here. 

“Then” They say. “I do not think we can work together.” They say, taking one last inhale of their cigarette holder, and leaving the room.

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The next visit is also frustratingly short, or, as it was with Leftie, never really starts in the first place. They are trying to find the domain of the lady of the lake. They can see the peaking lights of hives in the distance, hidden near the water through the flurry of snow, but everytime they try to walk towards them they lose their way, and find themselves back where they started. Ever the pragmatist, they had tried to map the area, on a notepad. With leather gloves and shaking fingers, they marked down monuments and turns as they could, but even the most astute of their markings made no sense. It was as if the landscape itself was changing every time Viscos turned their back. Eventually, it became too cold even for them, and their mother of all coats, to endure, and they went back to the apartment, defeated.  . . .

. .

When they found a witch who was travelling, they thought meticulously on where to meet her. The apartment was out of the question, obviously. They did not want to easily be found again if things went horribly wrong. They could meet at a cafe, but they didn’t want to be overheard. Somewhere public enough to instill a safety that came with being out in the open, but private enough to dissuade curious listeners. They toiled over this for nights before resolving to reserve a study room at the public library. 

They’re sitting there now, foot tapping at the floor with a restless impatience. Their coat propped up on the chair. Every one of these meetings feels like russian roulette. The woman's first words upon entering feel like the sound of a bullet clicking into the chamber. 

Finala opens the door to the room gently, offering a friendly wave and smile, but it’s not long after she steps into the room that she pauses, a brief concern welling up in her eyes. 

“Oh…” She exhales. “I see. You’re cursed.” 

Viscos stands up immediately, having prepared to dance around the subject of their affliction, and unsettled by how quickly and seamlessly Finala had noticed. 

“How did you know that?” They say, guarded. 

“I have a sense for such things.” She says, raising her arms in surrender. “If it eases you, I don’t know the specifics, but I might be able to help you were you to fill me in”

Viscos stares into her eyes, unsure what they’re searching for. Their paranoia battling with their desperation, and the paranoia wins out in the end. The cerulean picks up their coat, scrambling for the door. 

“Please don’t leave” She says gently, not even knowing what she’s just done. “I’m not going to hurt you.” 

And just like that, they stiffen, rooted to the spot, cursing their luck and their foolishness, turning back to glare at the woman as if she had just done something horrible to them. 

Finala traces the look in their eyes for a moment, thinking. 

“I see. It’s something to do with speech then.” She deduces. “Then I won’t speak until you tell me how to avoid it. If you’d rather simply take your leave, feel free. But know that I will not say another word to you without your permission.” 

If only it were that simple, for them to be released with a ‘feel free’. Viscos once again wills their feet forward, but their body doesn’t listen to them. They stand there, time dragging on. Trying to think their way out. It’s only after the first minute or so they begin to realize Finala is serious about not speaking. She’s still standing across the room, mouth shut, waiting. Was there some way to tell her without telling her? Viscos eventually sighs, walking over and sitting back down in the chair. 

“I can’t… be given orders” The cerulean says, gesturing vaguely. But it’s enough to piece the puzzle together regardless. The realization hits Finala all at once, and works its way backwards through the conversation that preceded it. They had not had a change of heart, she realizes. They had literally been unable to leave from the moment she told them not too. She stares at the cerulean, eyebrow raising as if asking if this was permission to speak. 

“You can speak,” They say. “If you don’t tell me to do things.” They add, as a condition. 

“Poor thing… I can only imagine the strife this has brought you” She says, taking a step closer. She pauses, thinking for a moment, and begins to speak slowly. “I’ll consider my words carefully- wouldn’t want to trigger the effect.” She turns to the side. 

“If… I told you to rest assured that I have no desire to abuse your curse, would that force your hand?” 

“Yes” They answer. 

“Well. Then if you so please, you may choose to rest assured that is the case. Is me telling you not to leave, still in effect?” 

They’re in this deep, Viscos thinks. If they’re fucked, they are already fucked. Might as well not mince words. 

“Yes,” They say. “It can only be cancelled out by another, contradictory direct order.” 

“Then, I order you to leave when you see fit.” She says. 

Viscos pauses. Surely, something like all this had been what they wanted to hear, yes? Was this not the best way this could have gone? They had not made it this far with any of the other witches. But there is no relief in it, all they continue to feel is frustrated with their own vulnerability. They stare at the ground for a long moment, before sighing, rolling up the sleeve of their uniform, to reveal a sigil, that almost looks tattooed onto the skin, a symbol of four wings, a crown, and esoteric scribbling, that had appeared, immovable, on their forearm since the moment they were touched by magic. 

“Do you know how to fix it?” They say, fighting to keep the waver from their voice. 

Finala pauses, delicately taking the arm in her hands, stepping closer to look at the sigil. 

“I’m not entirely familiar with this.” She says. “But… this mark is… it seems like someone worked hard to tie this spell specifically to its caster. You’d likely need that witch to remove it” She admits, knowing that’s likely not what they want to hear. 

Viscos gives a long sigh. Why’d they pick a meeting place where they couldn’t smoke? Their fists open and close around a lack of cigarettes. 

“I hoped you wouldn’t say that.” They exhale. 

“I’m sorry. I assume you and who made it are still on uneven terms?” 

“Worse” Viscos sighs. “She’s dead.”

[moodymisty]

Hiya! Could I request some Magnus / GN! Reader shenanigans? Like the reader is trying to learn a spell (to impress Magnus), does it by "The books are just guidelines anyways", and it works. Then they go to show Magnus and confusion hell breaks loose Blease and thankyou <3<3<3

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's Note: Magnus time! I was actually working on something just like this, so this gave me the motivation to really spruce it up and finish it. But I really apologize because when I reread your request I realized I might've gone a bit less silly than you might've wanted. I hope you still enjoy.

Relationship: Magnus the Red/Gn!Reader

Warnings: None apart from this being my first time writing Magnus so please forgive me figuring him out I'm sorry if he feels off

Word Count: 1220

Sorcery is by it's very nature, finicky.

It has no solid answer, no yes or no. It's not as if it's a machine you can turn on or off, or a star you can see is alive or dead. It's an ebb and flow- something you feel.

But how do you feel something you've never felt before?

These tomes are largely nonsensical to you; The scribblings of madmen, words with no translation and sentences backwards.

You'd once again today attempted to make sense of it all, to tempt your better judgement that kept saying it maybe wasn't your most intelligent idea, but nothing has happened yet. So now you sit in bed, flicking through pages of tomes scattered across the blankets; Attempting to perhaps make enough sense of it and not bring anymore embarrassment to yourself than you already have.

In your fussiness you've already given yourself two different paper cuts, licking your wounds both physical and mental. You should probably be sleeping, the stars are out bright, and the wind gently raps against the windows as you study.

Magnus' tower is so ethereal, you look towards the window for a moment and see nothing but the midnight sky illuminating everything underneath it.

After thinking, you look back towards the oversized tome in your lap, lying on your thighs over top of a blanket. You'd picked many of the books not necessarily at random, but attempting to find the most basic of starting places from a collection that puts most others to shame. Magnus has many shelves up here, filled with his personal collection of tomes and scrolls. You sort've wish he was here to help guide you, but at the same time, you wish to surprise him to some degree.

You try just one more time, attempting to light a small ember in your palm. You follow every word exactly as the instructions- if you could call them that, and mange to hold it for only a few moments before it flickers away as if blown out by breath.

"Ugh!"

You drop your head, it coming quite close to hitting the pages of the tome.

"What is this?"

Your head suddenly whips upright, seeing Magnus himself standing in the doorway across the room. You don't know how you hadn't heard his footsteps, though you suppose you were far too distracted for your ears to prick to any other sound than what was right next to you.

Entering the room and closing the massive door behind him, Magnus takes in the scenery he's missed while aboard Photep, traveling the stars. After his quick glances he focuses on you cross legged in his bed, surrounded by opened and unopened books.

"Magnus!" He slowly walks closer to the beside, one finger brushes a tome he's clearly familiar with and opening it to a particular page; Glossing over it before he lets it gently fall back shut.

"Now, what are you concocting in that little mind of yours that requires so many spell tomes?"

Magnus watches amused as you close the book in your lap, legs cross underneath it and look at your slightly burned palm.

"I was trying to call fire. But it seems it's a bit harder than I thought." His smile fades a bit softer, watching your expression. The fabric of his robes is weaved with gold string that shines in the soft candle light.

"You seem to have had it, from what I saw."

You can feel his long red hair brush against your arm as he sits beside you, his massive height and weight difference forcing the appropriately massive bed to dip heavily to his side. It almost makes you roll, but you quickly adjust to prevent that. Now in your atmosphere it's a bit easier to look him in the eye, but you still have to crane your next a decent bit.

"I was following the tomes exactly like they said, and the best I can do is a little baby kindling. I'd have trouble even setting a letter alight."

You look up towards him, hands playing with the edges and filigree of the old, worn tome in your lap. Magnus speaks up, his tone curious and a bit surprised.

"Exactly?"

His eye glances down to the front cover of the tome in your hand, and recognizes that one instantly. With one hand, he gently reaches underneath the covers and gently clamps the tome shut, the top of his hand laying against your thighs before he pulls the tome towards his chest.

"Then you are taking it all far too literally." Perhaps the book shouldn't be written so literally then, you rebelliously think. He lays the tome aside, and uses the same hand to gently cup your jaw between his fingers and look up at him.

"it's far more of a feeling that anything, my love. If you keep just following the tomes, you might end up burning something down. Or as you've noticed, burning nothing at all." He lets out a laugh, feeling your cheeks move under his finger tips.

"I never thought you to be so studious in following directions. Perhaps you'd prefer Primarch Guilliman to myself?" You let out a harsh puff of air through your closed lips, making an insulting noise. Your hand grips his wrist and tries to pull it away, but to no avail, and instead you just grip the massive muscles of his arm and scowl.

"Funny."

He smiles wider. How you speak to him so casually now, compared to months ago. Perhaps his teasing makes it easier for you to forget who he is. He doesn't mind it.

A testament to your determination, you'd been able to cast something despite a lack of knowledge; But you could do well in having someone set you on the right path. Afterall, Magnus knows simply treating something with such an ebb and flow as sorcery as rules you can memorize will never bear any fruit.

Magnus can guide you, and truthfully, he would love for nothing more than to.

His sons don't need to be taught. They learn from his actions, and most are more than capable of progressing on their own and honing their own skills. To be able to teach his beloved something that is such a core part of himself, to guide your hand and your mind to touch something greater- he finds himself almost, dare he say excited.

He's rough on his sons, he knows they can take it. That they're built for sorceries and touching the warp. But with you he'll have to be gentle. The thought of it, to sit with you and show you wondrous things that your home planet kept from your eyes, he would start right now if not for one thing.

Magnus lets go of your jaw. He leans down and gently brushes a kiss against your temple, his fire red hair brushing against your skin again.

"Now, as much as I don't wish to part you from your reading, I have returned from Terra at my absolute wits end and desiring some rest." He smiles and vaguely gestures to the mess you've made of his bed during his absence. He can see other little messes throughout his chambers, as well.

"So my love, perhaps you could move your research, off the bed?"