#Ask Trick for a map.

[disformer]

Just to say (and hope I'm not being rude) You do alot of art which baffles me I'm pretty much a Lazy artist myself and can't seem to get one art piece out but seeing you post pictures of colourful men and a comic coming amazes me how you do it. Like tbh I'm not jealous or anything but your very much starting to be my favourite artist and I can't wait to see more you make :D

OOOOOOH THANK YOU SO MUCH 🥺❤️!!! I’ll be completely honest and attribute a lot of it to working on a webtoon, which demands pretty clean/finished-looking art done in about a quarter of the time. It’s felt a lot like boot camp.

[ereborne]

Snippet from 'lay-on-the-floor-and-scream dot excel' please ❤❤❤

As you might have guessed from the title, this is my 'good data management solves the Clone Wars' AU! Work had me pretty agitated when I put it together, so it's more canon-divergent than originally intended, but hopefully it still holds up.

I started off thinking that the clones, coming from Kamino, would be pretty used to keeping extensive documentation on themselves/each other.  Multiple sets of books, even—the sanitized ones they show the longnecks, the informal tracking of things nobody else cares about, the multiply-encrypted ones with the honest data about how their siblings are doing—as automated and redundant as possible, and while yeah it would be difficult to maintain during wartime, they are 1) the best-trained military minds and logisticians in existence and 2) absolutely not going to pay less attention to their siblings when they’re in more danger. 

For this fic also I focused in on a worldbuilding thing that I actually thought was true a million years ago before I’d ever gotten into any Star Wars nonsense, which is that Lightside users are a sort of filtering system for the Force.  That the Dark was an agent or consequence of some sort of metaphysical entropy—the constant descriptions of it as cold and oppressive really reinforced that one for me—and Force-sensitives would dedicate themselves to opposing it on behalf of the universe.  So they’d be agents and sources of the Light, not only directly combating Darksiders (and more prosaically evil people) but also through meditation (and to some degree intrinsic aura) functioning as something like metaphysical space-heaters.  I was thinking of them kinda through a D&D lens, like galactic paladin-monks.  It made sense to me. 

Under this system, then, not only would things feel cold and depressing around a Sith, but the world would be warmer and more comforting around a Jedi.  To, say, a statistically significant degree.  You see where I’m going with this—what if there was a sweet little chart that proved, mathematically and objectively, that puppy piles around the Jedi general improve the quality of life/life expectancy of everyone involved? 

Such a chart could also indicate a general getting closer to a Fall (Krell more cleanly than Anakin, since Anakin’s baseline will be skewed after the Tusken massacre, and conflated by Obi-Wan and Ahsoka’s recurring presences) or various other ongoing issues in a battalion (Corrie Guard, my beloveds) but we have to start by convincing our ascetic galactic paladin-monks of the efficacy of wartime cuddles. 

Cody hums faintly, and still does not continue.  Obi-Wan has years of practice and does not need the Force to tell him to be patient, that if he pushes Cody now he might miss his chance to hear something important.  The Force tells him anyway.  “General.”  Cody begins again.  “You know the kark you make up so you don’t have to directly answer a direct question?”  Obi-Wan narrows his eyes.  This conversation could be about many things.  The Force tells him yes.  It is unhelpful.  It seems he takes too long to answer, and Cody continues on, delivering further defamatory accusations in his polite semi-formal voice.  “As when you refuse mandatory post-mission checkups, and Helix hunts you down and asks if whatever put the holes in your robes put any matching holes in you, and instead of telling him what he certainly knows, you spin a charming tale about some other poor sap who possibly got shot but is probably fine regardless, no need for any medics who may or may not exist to get involved?” The Force says yes.  Obi-Wan does not roll his eyes, because he is a master of the jedi order and also of himself.  “I’m familiar with the rhetorical construction of a hypothetical situation, yes.”  He replies primly.  “Good.  I’d like to discuss a situation with you, sir, with the understanding that everything I describe is purely hypothetical.”

(also as you can see this is a very fun Cody for me to write, because he and all the rest of the 212th have gone their entire wartime experience with Obi-Wan layering peace/comfort/reassurance over them like a mantle, so he’s a lot more comfortable speaking his mind and I get to lean into my favorite codywan bitch4bitch relationship dynamic from the jump)

[collabwithmyself]

i should do more fake map/amv thumbnails those were fun

[zackmartin]

actually, i'm still thinking about it, and like. henry's so funny in my halloween fic because zack literally offers to go with him to take his little sister trick-or-treating and he still doesn't get it

[rae-gar-targaryen]

darling, how could i fear any hurricane? [qimir/the stranger x force sensitive!reader]

Summary: Neither the backwater planet you’d chosen for yourself, nor the sanctity of your own mind, is safe from the nightly visitations of your dream stranger. Is he real, or just another trick of the mind? And what of the power he promises? Desire, he’d spoken of. Desire, desire, desire…

Pairing: Qimir/The Stranger x Force-Sensitive!reader [my reader is written ambiguously, but as with all of my reader inserts are written with a Latina!reader in mind]

Warnings: 18+ please – fingering, dry humping, the brief mention of choking, Qimir being a seductive motherfucker, relatively minor smut, all things considered. The briefest descriptions of violence; reader has female anatomy.

Word Count: 5.7k of sinful soliloquy and definitely no manipulation. No, you want this power, don’t you??

A/N: Breaking my writing drought with this. I don’t know if it’s any good, and no one asked for it. But I’m glad to be sharing my writing again. Please be gentle!! Also, if you’ve ever read my Mandalorian x princess!reader fic, there’s an easter egg in here for you!

--

The verdant planet of Vorduun was known for very little – A small, outer-world, far from the shiny Core planets that boast chrome, progress, and bureaucracy. Lush plantlife, a fertile place with brimming riverbanks, and jungles teeming and thrumming to life with flora and fauna at the turn of the seasons. Off the edge of the map. Off the edge of the world. A perfect place to hide.

To lose yourself. 

And the night is stifling, to say the least. Of all the Vorduunian summers you’d endured in your self-isolation, this one had to be the worst. The months’ long deluge of spring rains had made for a stiflingly humid summer, the green jungle steaming with sticky heat. If a saving grace was to be found in the swelter, it was that the night skies were unlike everything you’d ever beheld – a far cry from the fluorescent pollution endemic of your years on Courscant. 

Tonight's Vorduunian sky is no exception – a clear expanse of rich velvet, stars like diamonds crushed into the smooth folds of the expansive sky. Twinkling and winking richly down at you through the gaping slats of the shack you now called home. 

You twist, a serpent in your own threadbare bedsheets, attempting to find comfort in the sticky summer heat of the planet, chasing the elusive promise of coolness as you flip your pillow to the other side with a huff. 

Kind of a sick game, if you thought about it. That if you weren’t running from something, you were chasing something else. 

At present? Chasing a good night’s rest. Preferably dreamless, if you were honest. Your dreams of late are plagued with all sorts of incomprehensible flashes, feelings of being watched, feverish and hazy. Your subconscious’s foreboding certainty that if you’d only just turn around, you’d be met with a face that was not your own -– the disquieting sense of something, or someone, lurking just around a corner. Sprinting down echoing hallways with promises, greatness, a warrior's oath, all just out of reach, certain that if you’d slowed your pace, whatever was pursuing you might just snatch you, an unseen stranger.

Other nights, the dreams were different – the unflinching and unchanging grin set in a mask of metalloid teeth, baring themselves at you . Of ever-watchful eyes judging, as you forced yourself through training drills. The disapproving shake of your Master’s head, his disappointment palpable and always, always directed at only you . The seizing terror of being dropped into combat with no saber – of being skewered through by an unseen shadow with a red plasma blade. Of walls closing in on you. Of the Knights whom you had once considered your friends turning their backs on you while you fought tooth and nail. Of your lungs filled with your unreleased screams – of terror or frustration, you weren’t sure – pulling you down beneath the surface of your failure until you drowned in the disappointment of others’ unfulfilled expectations. Of hands on an unseen body tinkering with phials of something, producing poisonous concoctions of sickly green that the unseen stranger dripped down your throat, pouring them past your lips with sure, warm fingers pressing on your tongue. You swore you could feel the poison upon your waking, the phantom feeling of liquid shredding your veins with horrific heat, your heart thundering. 

Other nights the dreams were different yet, still. Of shadows shedding their inky cloak to reveal hands that caressed. Of hands that held you and wiped your tears. Of thorns falling from vines – leaving what once had pricked and scratched you to now soothe with velvety softness as the vines wound their way around your wrists, tugging you into an unseen embrace with whispers of promises humming in your ears like the tufty wings of insects. And you would go willingly. Of the warm breath of another in your ear, their body warm behind you, distinct in its softness from that of the sunwarmed cliffs the two of you would watch the sunset from, just you and your unseen stranger. Of those same metalloid teeth melting into a radiant smile of brilliant white, beheld in a sharp jaw – the critique of disapproving masters replaced by his balmy, sublime approval. 

Of the tease and taste of his cinnamon lips brushing your own, the fluttering fan of lashes along the peaks of your cheekbones. Of warm, wan whispers of want , desire , soothing your ears. Of warm, fine-boned, assured hands atop your own, guiding yours in a sensuous glide along your own skin. Promises of m ore, more, more as silken lips slipped their way along the column of your throat – your hitching gasps met with his rumbling hums of satisfaction that lasted in your ears for the duration of the following day. Of the gentle lapping of water over smooth-rocked shores, a hand grasping yours with a promise of power. Yet again of more, more, more, if you’d just … Well, you weren’t sure. 

What you were sure of was that it had been weeks of these dreams. Your exhaustion was tugging at the corners of your reality, manifesting itself into silly mistakes – a slipped knife while cutting your meals, or the prickling feeling of someone watching from the dark corner of your room. At times, you weren’t sure what was real and what was dreamscape. A slow descent into madness, torment that felt justified, somehow –-

This purgatory was clearly your penance for your failure. To atone for the fact that you could never be more than what you are now – a former padawan cast out of a renowned Order, thanks in part to her own passions and propensities, roiling rages, and lilting lust. A warrior stripped of all pomp and credential. A blistering reminder of something never to be, of someone you could never be. 

And so here you were. Piteous and exiled in the jungles of Vorduun with no one other than your occasional unseen dream stranger for company. And what of tonight? Had you slept? Were you asleep? The hazy jungle heat made it impossible to tell. When your days consist of the same, tedious routine maintenance to your little corner of jungle, purely isolated, save for irregular treks to the nearest settlement to barter … And when you tossed and turned your nights away in fitful fugue states of half-awake melded with oppressive dreams – well, who was to say what was really real?  

The ghost of a touch along your exposed shoulder didn’t merit a response … Until it happened again. Causing you to sit bolt upright in bed, eyes tracking the room for any disturbance – seen or unseen. 

That prickle, so like static rippling across your skin couldn’t be the Force. No, no. It was the trickle of sweat down the back of your neck, and nothing else. What reason would you have to feel the Force here, now? 

Just another heated night, just another heated dream….

And now, were your eyes deceiving you, or were the shadows in the corner of your room were moving, swirling into shape as a well-toned arm emerges from the darkness, raised in a gesture of … peace? And the rest of him follows, stepping into the muted illumination from your single gaslamp that sputters in the corner of your room, casting his shadow along the opposite wall, sinuous and slinking as he slowly approaches. 

You spring from your bed, eyes darting to the loose slat in your floor where you housed your ill-used saber, quickly considering the relative size of your room and how many steps it would take him to reach you, arms outstretched, to snuff the life from you before you could call the blade to your hand . 

His eyes track yours, clocking the floorboard, before placing both hands up in front of him now, a plea – 

“You don’t need that,” he murmurs, taking a tentative step toward you. And whether it was the room that shrank around you both, or that was just his presence in your space – so unused to anyone but you – you weren’t sure.

“Need what?” Play dumb, and he won't have any reason to harm you, leaving you an opportunity to strike. Your favorite trick, a minor deception for a tactical advantage.

He steps into the dim, flickering light of the gas lamp, a mild smirk blooming along his full lips, the lamplight warming his skin.

“Your Jedi weapon.”

You glance once more between the loose floorboard and the man slowly approaching you, cocking your head as his features became revealed to you, your mind tickling with recognition as you noted the sharp angle of his jaw and the baleful, syrupy darkness of his eyes –

“You,” you breathe. “I know your face.”

“Do you?” His eyes meet yours, searching. 

Yes. You had a good memory for faces, and his you had seen a few times before. Your trips to the nearest settlement every tenday for the open-air market to barter what you had cultivated from the land around your ramshackle home for fruit, thread, and other goods you didn’t often come by on your own. You had seen him at a stall selling tinctures and other apothecary-type goods. You’d never approached, of course. Hadn’t had a need for burn creams or toxins. But there was no denying the swooping lock of hair that would curtain over his eyes, the sharp angle of his features. The way his eyes would track the movement of the market, hawkish, despite the seeming ineffectual haze in them…

A minor deception, you now realize. But for what tactical advantage?

“The chemist from the bazaar,” you reply.

His lips quirk at your realization – the bud of the smirk now unfurling into a full smile. 

“You’re more observant than I gave you credit for, warrior,” he stands before you now, hands still lightly held up in a gesture of peace. “That’s good… A nice surprise ,” his voice taking on an almost-purr of satisfaction.   

You pause, lips parting lightly. What could he mean by that? 

“Qimir,” he gestures to himself by way of introduction.

Qimir. Likely not his real name. Still, you ponder, an interesting choice. Qimir. Like Chimaera, something ancient and unknowable. A monstrous creature signifying the parable of illusion – the promise of something only too impossible to achieve. You wonder if he knew what his “name” sounded like when he’d picked it.

And you hope your face hasn’t betrayed your whirring thoughts as you continue your assessment, hoping to keep a sweep of neutrality across your features as you address him again.

“If you say so. Business must be slow if you’re here to rob me, poisoner. I’m afraid you’ll be sorely disappointed,” your eyes flit around the relatively bare bedroom, gesturing with your chin to the equally Spartan main room of your little ramshackle cabin. “Not much here of value.” 

He crosses one foot over the other as he takes a step to orbit you, almost swordsmanlike. As though he were preparing to duel. You mirror his step, your back to your bed now, facing your doorway. His body between yours and your exit. 

“I wouldn’t say nothing,” he brings a finger to his chin as if in ponderment. “You’re here, after all. And why would I give you my name, show you my face, if I intended to rob you?” 

“Why you do anything means nothing to me,” you bite, “and you’ll have to forgive my manners if I don’t feel like giving you my name. Leave, now , while I let you leave, Qimir.” 

His eyes sweep your form, note your weight on the balls of your feet, bracing for a fight. You probably have weapons other than your laser sword stashed away, if he had to guess . He takes a tentative step toward you, a low chuckle escaping him at the fire in your eyes, trying not to smile any wider than he has already, to give away his pleased impression of your fury. 

“I know who you are,” you blink at his statement, trying not to let the surprise show on your face. “You don't have anything to fear from me, little Jedi.”

“I am no Jedi,” you snipped, rolling your eyes at the insolence of the man before you. If he cared at all about your rude display, Qimir said nothing.

“I am more than aware of that, too,” he murmured, his voice like silk in your ears as he takes yet another small step toward you, invading your space, close enough to breathe your air, a hair’s breadth from touch.  

Too close. You flex your fingers, calling your lightsaber from its hiding place under your loose floorboard into the palm of your hand in a flash, the cool metal meeting your palm like an old friend, a sense of relief. You surge forward into Qimir’s space, pressing the hilt of the saber into his abdomen.

“If you know so much, then you also know you shouldn’t have come,” you snarl. “I don’t know if you didn't take the hint, here at the edge of the world, but I don't take kindly to uninvited guests.”  

“You did invite me, little viper,” he insists, his voice never losing its even, dulcet quality.

At your furrowed brow, he gently brings his fingertips to brush the bare skin of your wrist that’s pressing the hilt of your lightsaber into his stomach. A familiar, prickling ripple bursts across your skin, causing goosebumps to stipple your arms. So familiar. So like the feel of lips from your unseen stranger. So like the Force. 

The dark eyes that met yours in the low light of your room were familiar for more than just an observation in passing at the market. 

“Y-you,” you gasp, the realization causing your chest to seize, to clench your teeth in the wave of seething anger. “You’ve been … in my head … for months …” 

He cocks his head at you, watching the emotions process along your face. He had seen your fears and failures, your heart’s greatest desires. He had seen it all …

“The quickest way to your heart,” he reasons. “Through your head. So you’ll have to forgive my intrusion. I wanted to know you.” Sweet words meant to soothe.  

You aren’t sure if that makes it any better. Perhaps the reasoning makes it worse.

“So like a poisoner,” you level his gaze with a steely one of your own. “To try to slip through the cracks unseen. But I know the quickest way to your heart.”

“You do?” He seems surprised at your rejoinder. As if he hadn’t expected you to play. To be so quick of wit as you were of reflex.

“Between your fourth and fifth rib,” you hum, your voice taking on an almost-seductive tone – a contradiction to the reminder of you pressing the hilt of the saber into him, precisely where you mean to. 

“I appreciate a good threat. Clever,” he smiles, placating. “But there’s no need for that, little warrior. After all… I wouldn't leave you to the dark, not like they did,” he assures, brushing his fingertips against the bare skin of your wrist, so lightly you would’ve thought you’d imagined it. Using the contact to connect to you through the Force once more – your shared memories dancing behind one another’s eyes. Of your fellow Padawans succeeding while your Master only saw failure. Of the dazzlingly white smile of your classmate with the bronze skin and twists in his hair, his yellow lightsaber flashing as you drilled together, his smile fading to frown with the rest of his features as you had used the Force to push him away a bit too hard – rage bubbling to the surface – in direct violation of your training ordinances. Of your departure from Coruscant, no one to bid you goodbye, not even your training partner who had once called himself your friend.

You make to turn your head, to break contact with his dark, glimmering, all-seeing eyes. Like tar pits, drawing you ever deeper. His other hand catches your chin between thumb and forefinger, drawing you back to his gaze, an orbit you cannot escape. Would you even want to?

“And do you believe you would have belonged? The Jedi are deceivers. They deal in abandonment … cloaked in empty platitudes,” he trails his index finger along the curve of your  jawline, an almost illusory brush of his skin against yours – the whisper of a touch, as though to illustrate the point. “The wisp of a  promise, like spun sugar. Sweet, but false, their promises of righteousness. Of importance.”

Your lips part, catching the barest bit of his thumb as it does so, your eyes now searching his, seeking motive.

“And what do you offer instead? That's what this is, right? An offer?”

He smiles wider now, nodding in the barest acknowledgment. As though you’ve finally asked the right question.

“I … make the intangible tangible.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning …” his hand leaves the curve of your jaw to touch his fingertips to your temple, pressing, rendering a vision to your mind. And what Force magic was this? To make you see beyond your own eye’s sight. Foresight? An illusion? A vision? A memory? A promise or a deception?

Whatever it is, you see it so clearly – an uninhabited plant roaring with ocean as far as your eyeline can perceive. Waves lapping gently along grey-stoned shores. Moss-covered alcoves where you sit with him, your stranger, the sunset warming your skin as he caresses your face, your hair, whispering praises just beyond your mind’s own comprehension into your ear – the tone sinful, syrupy. His arms securing you in the night as you rest, no more dreams of abandonment. 

Warmth, endless warmth… as his lips trail the shell of your ear, down your neck, bestowing belief of besotted brushes of lips. Adroit affection aimed right at the heart of you. 

“Hmmm … meaning …. Your feelings, your power, your talent all working, to manifest toward something real. Something you want.” His hand leaves your temple and rests on your shoulder, taking advantage of your state of ponderment to gently guide you, ever mindful of the still-unlit lightsaber pressed to his stomach, leading away from your bed to the wall just next to the adjacent doorframe, the patient waltz of a waiting predator. He brings his hand to rest on the wall, next to your head.

“Something I want,” you reply dreamily, coming back to yourself just enough to realize what he’d said, exhaling through your nose in an indignant little huff. “In exchange for … ?”

“Tell me something,” he replies, lithely lilting around your question with one of his own, flexing his fingers where they rest on the wall. “Why are you no Jedi?” 

“I … abjured,” you admit, a bit too primly, the lightsaber now feeling like an unbearable weight in your palm at your words, the weight of choices – both your own and those of whom purported to teach you. To guide you to something greater. Was it as he said? Were their promises so meaningless? “Broke my oath,” you suck your lower lip between your teeth, pausing before daring to meet his gaze again. “I couldn’t … suppress how they wanted me to. I didn’t want to fail anymore. I was so tired of failing. So, I … abjured. I was weak.” 

Your eyes meet his once more at your admission, yours shining with unshed tears waiting to fall like stars. Shimmering promises to slip down your cheeks, unkept and unchecked. Your fingers fumbled, seemingly of their own accord, unwilling to hold the weight, the threat, of the saber against him any longer. The hilt clattered to the floor, a clanging finality to punctuate your words. And when was the last time you had been so honest, so vulnerable with another?

How … unlike you. 

“Not weak,” he cups your cheeks with both hands, fine-boned thumbs tracing the peaks of your cheeks, as though to wipe away your unshed tears. “The same as me. Power searching for its other half. An unwaning, unflickering flame.” 

Your unseen stranger, now seen, takes your hands in his, the buzz of the Force still tingling across your skin at his words, at the recognition of his power.

“You asked what I want. You want the same as me, and I the same as you. A companion . A partner. Unlike them, I won't judge you for your feelings. Won’t judge you for your power …  You want – I can feel it rippling across your skin,” he closes his eyes, cocking his head, shivering as though to illustrate the point. “... Mmm, and I want,  too. We can want together. If you'd let us.”

The flickering light of your room seemed to dim in tandem with his syrupy words, cloying and dripping like honey into golden nettle tea. The swirling honeytar of his eyes appraising you as the Force connection prickled with hazy heat between your bodies and the damnable musk of the jungle air.

You press yourself further into the wall he’d leaned you against, tilting your chin to appraise him in kind, searching for veracity in his words. Something more substantial than the “spun sugar” he’d accused the Jedi of weaving. 

As though he could sense your trepidation before it could cross your face, he placed a hand on your hip, the contact searing you through the thin fabric of your tank top.  

“They kicked you out because you feel. I'd never do that. I want you to feel … to feel power. To feel what you’re capable of. Of what it can become. Rage. Fear. Loss. Desire. Train with me, you’ll feel it all. I want you to feel it all … to feel me.”

Desire, he had spoken of. The gentle roll of his low voice over the syllables echoing perfectly in your ears. Desire, desire, desire. That desire, so  like venom snaking its way through your blood, hot and purposeful. An all-consuming burn through your blood, befitting of a poisoner as he. 

“You felt it, didn’t you? When I came in,” he iterates, somewhere south of a plea. “All. That. Power.” The hand not resting on your hip comes to cup your face once more. “I can teach you.” 

You had read somewhere once, in the Archives, about creatures on long-abandoned planets with the ability to draw their prey in through vanity. The flash of feathers. Or shiny scales. Big, baleful eyes, perhaps. Only to sink their teeth in once their intended had come too close. 

You draw in a breath, searching his pleasing face for any sign of a tell. Of the flicker of eyes that would signify deception. Of hidden fangs beneath his beautiful, full lips. Of anything that would bely his true intentions behind your Force connection. You swept your eyes across broad, defined shoulders, down toned, muscled arms exposed through his sleeveless shift. A warriors’ weapon wrapped in a pleasing package, to be sure. But … with no discernable hint of false suggestion. 

You shift your weight once more onto the balls of your feet, away from the wall and into him . Continuing your appraisal as you tilt your head, allowing the scent of his skin – the tang of sweat from the humid jungle air commingling with something sharp and clean – to wash over you. 

You invade his space now, leaning into the hand that grips your hip and the other that cradles your head, boldly brushing your lips along his with the barest hint of touch, feeling his lips smile against yours.

You whisper, your lips silken against his, “Tell me, poisoner … You seduce me with lies, is that it? You wish for me to call you Master? Forsake all else to worship at your altar?” 

You catch the flash in his eyes as the word “seduce” leaves your lips.

“I haven't lied to you,” his voice is a hum. An attempt to provide reassurance as he couples them with what he hopes is a comforting gesture. His fingers travel from your hip to trail your ribs, a partial embrace.

“Do you consider not telling the entire truth to be a lie?” 

“Have I shown you any lies? No. Just dreams. The promise of what could be. What I –,” he pauses, “– we could be. I cannot fabricate the Force, little warrior. Everything you feel tonight is you . It’s me. What more could you want? ” 

Your once-steely resolve is crumbling under the weight of his insinuation … "everything you feel tonight” –  the honey in his words sweet to your ears, you wonder fleetingly if he'd be even sweeter on your tongue. 

And he knew you, didn’t he? By his own admission, he’d seen your faults and flaws for months … your desires. And he had shown you promises, premonitions, predilections… a future of power. And if there is power in two hemispheres – one of sweltering heat, one of blistering ice. Which were you? And which was he? 

Together you would surely melt…

“No more rules, little warrior,” he sighs, “just the power of two.” He slides his lips across yours, purposeful, before capturing your lower lip between his teeth, nipping once before releasing, admiring the way your expression flickered from defiance to desire before surging forward, pressing you back into the wall as his lips capture yours.

He swallows your gasp, bringing his fingers to wrap loosely around your neck while his other hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt. 

You break from his kiss with a gasp between swollen, bitten lips. But he gives you no reprieve, his lips trailing to your neck, where he sets about pressing hot-mouthed kisses. Molten lava flooding the column of your throat, chased with the scrape of nipping teeth. Soothe and scrape. Push and pull. Give, give, give, take.  

You thread your fingers through the silken hair tucked behind his ears, tugging him from his ministrations on your neck and forcing him to meet your eyes – to see if the blaze of want you felt scorching your skin was reflected in the liquid coal, ready to ignite. 

His lips twist into a smirk at your insistent tugging; if he was at all surprised, he didn’t show it. His face the perfect picture of pleasure. 

“What would we do with it?” You inquire, “This power?” 

“Hmmm,” he pretended to ponder, suddenly scooping you, a brief lift as he crossed the short distance to your bed, seating himself with you on his lap. No concession of dominance; merely placing you precisely where he means to. To allow you to feel him beneath you. 

“What would you like to do, little warrior, hm?” His fingers flicked the thin straps of your flimsy sleep shirt, exposing your shoulders, leaning forward to trail his lips along the now-bared expanse of your shoulder, your collar bones, your neck, his eyes glancing up to watch your face as he went. “Make them pay? Take what’s yours?” 

His hands feel their way down your form, down your sides, along your hips, the skin of his palms rasping against the smooth expanse of your thighs has his fine-boned fingers make their way beneath the loose fabric of the cropped pants you sleep in, dangerously close to the precipice of your desire , urging you to move. Guiding your hips in a rhythmic glide in his lap. 

You gasp at his attentions, at the combination of his promises and the heady feel of his skin along yours, bringing your hands to grip his biceps – desperately seeking a way to anchor yourself. 

And if it’s his poison that will bring you to the edge, would you regret it? You were starting to believe you could never regret him , not at the feel of his chest pressed against yours, the toned muscle beneath your fingers. His sharp angles caressing your soft curves, replacing the lonely ache in your bones with the lovely heat of him, both his promises and his attentions.

His mouth was keyed and intentional in its work of you, with pressed kisses like flower petals blooming along the skin of your neck, followed by the scraping thorns of his teeth. Brutish and beautiful, as his fine-boned fingers crept to the inside of your thighs, rubbing along your clothed center, intensifying the ache you felt. He shifts your weight in his lap, causing your legs to spread wider, straddling him lowly as he tugs the offending fabric aside, guiding your hips into a roll over his clothed lap and his growing hardness. Manifesting his delight at the choked gasp you emitted in the form of a teasing little buck of his hips, guiding you down as he guided himself up, delighting in the sharp gasps that met his ears as he continues to sway you to his rhythm. 

“Desire isn't a sin, little warrior,” he breathes the words into your mouth, lips a hairs’ breadth apart, the better to swallow your moans. “What we feel feeds our connection to the Force, gives you strength ... If you know how. Let me show you. Touch me.” 

It was as though electricity was crackling, popping beneath your fingertips as you took his instruction and began to explore the expanse of his body, slipping your hands beneath his tunic to feel the silken heat of his firm torso, the ache within you mounting at the heady combination of the feel of his skin beneath your fingertips – so long since you’d touched another, been touched – and his hardness between the cleft of your thighs. Smoldering, low-heat burned along your skin and beneath your fingertips. Or was it his fingers that were doing the burning? It was hard to tell where he ended and you began, one arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you bodily into him, an infinite loop of power and pleasure.

As you continue to touch him, you could feel it – his connection to the force, strong, volatile, like lightning striking the ocean – crackling and formidable like the man who contained it.

And Qimir – you had long since given up trying to determine if it was, in fact, his real name – rewards you with a gift of his own, the velvet rumble of a groan of pleasure emanating from his throat at your touch. A sound of syrup and satisfaction. 

Pleased that you could garner such a reaction from a being as powerful as he, you smile, boldly meeting his lips with a kiss, opening your mouth with a gasp, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth, to taste the zip of power that he had determined in his moths of observation was just you, a torrent of citrus drizzle, bold and sweet. 

Reluctantly, he parts his lips from yours, ducking his head to tug the straps of your top down with his teeth, exposing your breasts to the heated air of the room. And if your desire at the repeated rolling of his hips beneath yours wasn’t enough to do you in, you figured this might. Bathing in the celestial feel the press his lips to your nipple, tongue swirling over the peaking flesh. Pleased at the goosebumps that erupt now in the wake of his attention. 

While he continues to tease your breasts with tongue and teeth, Qimir guides his other hand along your thighs, slipping his practiced fingers beneath your shorts, delighting in the wetness he was met with, basking  in the jolting shiver the motion elicited from you, at the friction of his fingers rubbing along the seam of you – causing you to wiggle, to roll your hips into his touch. 

And oh, as he slips his fingers inside of you, your eyes roll back, tilting your head to allow Qimir to admire the curving, elegant slope of exposed throat – prey before a predator, gasping at the pleasure he wrought. Breathless. If you thought he was teasing you before, his fingers inside of you were their own type of mocking punishment, well aware of his effect on you and the way your cunt throbs as he strokes inside of you. You could do nothing but wriggle your hips, whimpering piteously and attempting to roll your hips to follow his fingers as they work you, as this crescendo builds.

“Say you’ll be mine, warrior, and you can have it.” he promises. A new oath. One you’d never forsake. For him, you’d never turn, never abjure. Not so long as his touch made stars erupt behind your eyes, not so long as his lips dripped syrup promises down your throat.  

Kissing you once more, golden and slow, molten and revelatory as he works his fingers inside of you, your thighs parting to accommodate him. His thumb rolls repeated brushes over your clit, delighting in the starshine burst as you reached your peak, a broken little moan that sounded suspiciously like the word “master,” passing your lips in a keening sigh. 

You regard him through bleary, closing eyes and the warm, citrus haze of your orgasm as he slips his fingers from you, guiding you down to recline in your bed, stroking your hair as he does so, lulling you as a lover would. 

“Sleep, warrior,” his velvet voice meets your ears, lyrical and lilting. “I’ll be back for you.” 

And like each night before that one, his figure slips from you… as though he was never there. It wasn’t a dream, was it? It was hard to tell after months of this teasing game. After his promises built so much only to guide you to this release. 

And in the silvery light of the jungle’s dawn, you awoke with that very question on your lips, met with the sight of your saber placed gently on your little bedside table as opposed to its usual hiding spot. You wake to the sweet afterache of something between your thighs, to the scraped marks of teeth along the expanse of your neck. 

And to the promise of something – of a future of power and partnership. If only you’d be so bold as to accept it. As you eyed the saber, you recalled the prickle of his Force power along your skin, increasing with his proximity. And by the time he arrived to meet you again, you knew what your answer would be … 

--

tagging:

@phoenixhalliwell @withahappyrefrain @inklore @spiderispunk @flightlessangelwings @joannasteez @gretagerwigsmuse @kalliravenne @mxgyver @princessphilly @s-u-t @ohmagawd-life @maryannsstrawberry @themultifandompictureshow @kallista-diune @crypt-keeper-soul @monlight-prose @joaquinwhorres @bobfloydsbabe @themarvelousbee @soulores @moonyslove78 @sio-ina-bottle @theradioactivespidergwen @drew-garfi @thegirlwhowritesfics @lady-morrigen @flordeamatista @forever-rogue @aphrogeneias @withmyteeth @superhoeva @pettyprocrastination @mortwig @petcr3

[deadsetobsessions]

Some night, he flew above the twinkling lights of Blüdhaven’s buildings, wind rushing through his hair and the feeling of weightlessness pushing at the curve of his back.

There were a multitude of things that Dick Grayson appreciated, loved, Bruce for. One of those things would always be that his adopted dad allowed him to fly once more, even after his parents’ wings were cut.

In the air, he was home.

In the air, Dick Grayson felt like he was living up to, flying alongside, the Flying Graysons. Every flip, every trick he used to go faster, to fight better, felt like his parents were there guiding his every move.

Time healed his hurt, but still, the hole in his heart remained.

So when one of his best friends, a ghost vigilante by the name Phantom, asked him if he wanted to see his parents, he froze like a deer in bright white headlights.

“What…?”

Phantom did a flip in midair. “Wanna see your parents? They’ve been asking if they could talk to you.”

“My parents… are ghosts?” That was the least pressing question he had right now, but it was all his mouth could speak.

“Kind of. It’s complicated,” Phantom side-eyed him. “It would require going into the zone.”

And just like that, Dick understood. After the Amity Park came onto the map and the Justice League fixed the human and alien and meta rights violations that were happening right under their nose, Phantom had permanently closed all access to the Zone. Save, of course, for himself and a few magic users, who all refused to anger the King of the Dead.

“The only way you’re getting to my people now, is through me. Should anyone try to get into the zone, without my permission… I will make sure that you and your family’s afterlives will pay the appropriate price.”

No-one wanted to test his threat. The afterlife is something few fucked with and came back whole.

The Phantom they’d seen on the news then was incredibly different than the one in front of him now. Dick knows, understands now, that it was because Phantom trusted him. After years of being denied help, years of struggling all by himself to keep reality from collapsing while avoiding getting experimented on by humans understandably closed his heart.

“You’d take me into the Zone?” Dick didn’t know what he was feeling. Hope, fear, trust, touched, happiness, something.

A lot of things.

Danny shrugged. “Yeah. I trust you,” he said as he glanced back at Dick-at Nightwing. “Only you, though. No one else.”

The question that remained was whether Dick trusted Phantom too. And considering the fact that the ghost king ironically saved his ass from being killed a couple of times meant, “Yeah. I- I’d love to.”

Danny smiled, all pointed teeth and solemn trust. “Okay. Let’s go.”

“Now?!” Dick stood up anyways, his heart in his throat. Danny held out a gloved hand.

“Yeah, now. Haven’t you heard that death waits for no one?” At Dick’s concerned look, Danny added, “Don’t worry. You won’t actually die. You’ll come back whole and alive, I promise.”

“Oh, okay. Let’s go, then!”

——

Clark Kent threw himself out of the window, Superman suit already on.

Seonds later, he was hovering in front of Bruce’s shadowy form on top of a gargoyle.

“Clark,” Batman greeted in his gravelly voice, irritated. “What.”

“Batman, Nightwing’s heartbeat- it disappeared!”

Bruce’s heartbeat stuttered.

[doremimosasol]

𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰 - 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 ☆

warnings: suggestive, a bit angsty in the beginning

word count: 2,2 k

summary: finding the comfort in each other’s embrace, not knowing it would burn

with thanks to @slytherinslut0 , who gave me a lovely prompt

Your feet touched the cold floor of the common room, freezing further with every step you took. Though the cold couldn't balance out the burning of your eyes. Red. Red because of the tears they so desperately needed to free from the barriers. The barriers getting weaker as the weeks passed, but still held steady by the hands of one person: Mattheo Riddle.

Academic validation was slowly eating you from the inside, until there was almost nothing left. Everything just hurt. Your head hurt, your back hurt, your eyes hurt, your-

- "Y/n?"

The look in his eyes could mend every wound left by your endless hours of studying. It was always soft when he looked at you. Soft but concealing every single other emotion underneath. He nodded, stepping aside to let you in.

The atmosphere instantly fell down on you, the familiar scent of his room wrapping around your heart like a blanket. You noticed the deserted book on the crumpled sheets of his bed. He was reading, trying to have some time for himself. The guilt came crushing down on you. You were so selfish, asking for his time like this over and over and over and over — But so did he...

You felt his presence creeping up behind you. No matter how many times you did it, the tension never left. His fingertips touched the strands of your hair, pulling them aside to expose your neck to him. His lips aimed straight for the spot he knew would make you squirm. "Why those tears, mhmm?"

He traced a path to your jaw, his hand snaking up to the front to gently grip it. His index finger trailing its way to the bottom of your lips, pulling it down slightly. "Tell me what's been bothering you..."

"Stress..."

And with a soft hum, he showed that he understood. Stress, a thing that's been torturing both of you for ages but not in quite the exact same way. "And you came to me to release it, yes?"

You nod, hoping he'd feel the movement against his fingertips. "Nodding won't do, y/n. I need to hear you say it." He softly pulled back your head, making you look up at him.

"Yes..."

And with that he angled your head slightly to the side to smash his lips against yours in a fervent kiss. His chest pushing tightly against your back. His hands nearing their way to the point of your pulse. He gently pressed down his thumb, to feel the adrenaline streaming through your veins. He smirked against your lips at the feel of the throbbing under the pads of his fingers. He always managed to rile you up in the perfect ways.

He never left you the chance to speak more about what happened, how badly you wanted to... You wanted to talk to him, gosh you so desperately needed to talk to him. Just as much as you needed him to touch you, and right now you might've needed that more. So you just let him, swallowing down the words you've been dying to say to him for months.

Before you knew it, he had you pinned to his mattress. The book he was reading long discarded to the cold floor.

His touch went straight to your heart. Your body, mind, and heart fighting to take the upper hand.

It was your body which craved his touch. The way he touched you sent you to a complete different dimension. It was as if the world around you just stopped, like the only the thing that mattered where the fingers of the man on top of you. The fingers that mapped out your skin like a cartographer.

He knew every single spot that drove you crazy, linked to the reactions it resulted in. His hand now making his way down your body almost like it was making its way through a forest. As it it was in search for a treasure — the signal of arrival when he felt your back arch off the bed. With subtle pressure trying to trick the one who left the treasure behind. As if it was a substitute to the weight that your mind carried.

Your mind that went a thousand miles an hour when he reached that certain point, trying to fight against the pleasure but failing every single time. Was this right? What were you? Was this situation ever resulting in something more? Or were you just wasting your time...

All doubts immediately disappeared when he pressed down that certain spot. almost like it tried to scare off the overthinking.

He always talked to you when he guided you through it, they weren't pretty; the words. They stung like a wasp leaving behind its stingers behind in your heart. The painful reminder of why he was doing this... It would never be out of love.

It was just because you needed him in that moment and knew he'd need you just as much in the near future. It never meant anything to him, it didn't feel like it meant anything to him at least...

He never left you hanging though, whether it was for him or you. He always made sure to leave the both of you equally satisfied. But nothing could ever fully satisfy you, when he always left a cold spot next to you right after.

"I'm gonna take a shower, you should be going." He didn't even look back at you after. He never looked back at you.

And you made sure you always left before he reappeared from the bathroom. You were scared of what would happen if he would find you in his bed after.

Mornings after in the halls felt like nothing ever happened to you, like you were strangers to each other. When you know he was the person who felt the least of a stranger to you. You posed yourself vulnerable to him. Even your closest friends had no idea of your struggles with the academic pressure. Of the fear of failure.

No one knew the way you'd stay up for several nights in a row to feel less. The numbing feeling of the lack of sleep, keeping you going. You couldn't remember the last time you slept through a complete night, it felt impossible. The thumping of your heart keeping you awake at night.

A knock on your door interrupted the spinning of your thoughts. You expected no one other than Mattheo...

"Y/n." He always called out your name before he crashed into your arms. He never cried, but the way he slumped against your frame every time weighed a thousand tears.

"Talk to me, Mattheo." You always tried for him to speak up about it, your tender fingers cradling his face as you looked into his broken eyes. But nothing ever happened.

It was always for nothing. Every time you tried to break through his walls, he made them twice as thick. Trying to shut up your further prying with his lips. They always felt a bit softer when he was the one that came to you, like he transferred his pain through the kiss. Rather than taking up yours with a rough one.

This time you pulled away, trying once again to get him to talk. "Mattheo, please. You need to talk to me. Please, just talk to me about it." You tried to keep some distance between you two, but his lips just came crashing upon yours again. He didn't want to talk about it and would never do it. Never. No one knew about anything other than the meaning of his last name. The meaning of what it would do to a person.

But you didn't give up, once again pulling back. "Mattheo, can you ju-" He cut you off.

"Can you just shut up, y/n?" And with that he pushed your body against the wall behind you, the hit of it slightly hurting your head. You didn't have the energy to fight it anymore and just let him be. Better luck next time...

He trailed his lips down your neck, but not without covering your mouth with the palm of his hand first. He didn't want to hear your pleading anymore. He hated it, he hated how vulnerable you made him feel. Everything about this arrangement was just to make the two of you feel better, no question asked. But every single night you were getting closer to breaking that rule.

You softly pulled his hand away from your face, one simple word leaving your lips. "Sorry."

You couldn't deny you craved him too in that moment and just made sure to give him what he came for: an escape from reality. Even if it was just for a while.

Tonight felt different, he was on the verge of falling apart...

He held onto to you like you were his lifeline, his eyes were closed all through it. He was scared it’d show too much if he opened them. So you made sure to kiss him as much as he needed, his soft lips sending you into a blissful state.

You couldn't even catch your breath after, before he stood up to get dressed again, ready to leave your room. But you were prepared this time, you wouldn't let him leave like he always would. Like it once again had meant nothing to him, when you so clearly felt a change in your interaction every time. Every time, he got softer. He kissed your lips more instead of just your neck. He held the back of your head instead of guiding your hips himself. He slowed down his pace, trying to make it last longer. You noticed it, and he knew you did.

You quickly pulled on enough clothes to cover yourself up. You didn't want to be completely naked as you finally would approach him about the situation. You almost ran to the door to block his path. "Can you stay? For once?"

The look in your eyes felt like a slap in his face. He hated the way you crawled your way into his heart — "Y/n, move."

But you didn't budge, you wouldn't budge.

"Can we please talk, can we talk about everything. Mattheo, I need someone to talk to and I know you do too." You pleaded with your eyes for him to change his mind.

"I don't do talking about my feelings, y/n, and you know that." His words were harsh but his tone betrayed the way he really felt.

"And what about me? Every time I try to open up to you, you just shut me out. Are you ever going to let me in, or am I just wasting my time?" There, you said it.

He let out an exasperated sigh and leaned against the wall, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You knew this. We agreed to this! We come to each other and then no questions asked." He tried so hard to make it clear to you.

"Yes, Mattheo, but can't things change? Can't we change? You can't tell me all this has just been is to make ourselves feel better, when I know for a fact it's making me feel worse right now." You stepped up closer to him, still trying to keep a bit of distance.

He looked down at you, the pleading in your eyes hitting his heart like a wrecking ball. "You're being unfair..."

"How?" One step closer.

"Don't-" His voice sounded almost pained.

"Why not, Mattheo?" You made one last step until your bodies were touching and that's when he broke.

"Because I love you." It was as if time stopped, the recoil of the words pushing your body away from him, almost hitting the wall behind you.

"I never looked back after, for the fear of falling right back into your arms. I always, always hoped to find you still in my bed after my shower. I always hoped for you to ask me to join me, I always hoped you finally would've been able to push through the walls..."

He laughed softly, his eyes meeting yours as he stepped forward. He pressed your back against the wall behind you, his body now fully up against yours, he leaned in until he was breathing against your mouth. His breathing was becoming faster and heavier. "I never meant to love you." He murmured, his voice was rough and soft at the same time.

"You made me."

"Then please love me tonight..." Something snapped and with a swift and calculated movement, Mattheo closed the remaining distance between you, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. His tongue sought entry, tangling with yours in a heated dance of desire.

You pulled away to take a breath and to finally speak out the words: "I love you too."

And that was the first night Mattheo made love to anyone, made love to you. Enjoying each other's heartbeats and embrace in the ending in the afterglow of the spent emotions...

[lilahisntsadanymore]

Blood status seems to become less important when you acknowledge the actual feeling of love. What will Theo do when Y/n comes to the terms with the differences between them being impossible to ignore?

Pairing: Theo Nott x granger!reader

Words count: 1.9k

Author's note: My apologies for keeping you waiting so long, but I finally got some time off at uni!! Wishing you all a good year!!

Kind of a 2nd part of this fic, but you can read it without the previous one

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

Keep you safe

One evening, Theo was waiting in the library. Waiting for a person he never expected to talk to. Y/n Granger. He found himself feeling a bit nervous, even though there was no reason.

Thinking about Y/n made him feel something. A feeling he never felt before. Slughorn said it's love, the muggle kind of love, the purest form, not induced by anything supernatural.

Theo decided to read about it. Hoping to find some book about it, he asked the librarian. She gave him a book specifically about love potions and spells. One of the first chapters was just what Theo was looking for.

"How to tell the difference between love and infatuation caused by magic." He whispered the first sentence to himself.

He started reading, his mind realizing what he got himself into as his gaze brushed over the text. Well, technically it wasn't his own fault and apparently also not the girl's fault.

But there must've been a reason. If love was a part of biology, brain chemistry, there had to be some logical factor.

"What are you reading?"

When Theo heard Y/n's voice right next to him, he immediately closed the book, causing it to make a loud sound.

"You took such a long time I got bored." He replied.

"Don't be so shy," the girl shifted her eyes to the title of the book, "oh, love potions and spells? But we're doing something completely different."

"Really? I couldn't care less, forgot what we were supposed to do." Surely one thing he'd love to do was making out with her on that table.

Y/n put her homework on the table.

"Read it and tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing is wrong, I just-"

"What's wrong with my text, Nott. I didn't ask how you were doing."

"Right."

Theo took the papers and started reading. The text was written with the most beautiful handwriting he's ever seen. So elegant, so precise.

"How long did it take you to write?" He asked.

"One evening. It was easier than you'd think."

"I think it's extremely easy." He bragged. "Anyway, is that all? Or do you wanna add something?"

"Well, Slughorn thought it's necessary for you to help me. Is there anything you think should be added?"

"Uh, no, it looks fine," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

"Fine? Theodore Nott, the perfectionist Slytherin, settles for 'fine'? I expected more from you."

"Look, it's not my homework, it's yours. I don't know why I agreed to help you, but it was pointless."

"You got yourself into this, could've said no."

"What the fuck am I even doing?" Theo asked rather himself than the girl. "I don't need to be helping a mudblood, who cares what grade you'll get." With these words, he stood up.

"Because-" Y/n stuttered. "Because... I've heard your conversation with Slughorn. And you said... that you liked me."

"Me? Liking you?" He snorted with laughter. "What the hell, Granger?"

Tears formed in Y/n's eyes as she watched Theo walk away. Sure, he was mean to her before, this wasn't the first time. But this time was somehow different.

Y/n could swear she heard Theo confessing to Slughorn that he's actually in love with her. It's not possible her brain played tricks on her. Plus Hermione said Theo told her about his feelings for Y/n.

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

Harry walked onto the astronomy tower. Y/n was supposed to be back a long time ago. Ron and Hermione also wanted to go there, but Harry asked to let him go alone.

Harry knew where Y/n was thanks to the Map. He felt such relief not seeing Nott's name next to hers. She was standing alone, leaning on the banister. There was something in her hand, Harry couldn't see well in the dark, but from the smell he realized it was a cigarette.

"I didn't know you smoke." He spoke.

Y/n expected this to happen, she was aware of Harry's feelings towards her. She took one last drag from her cigarette then dropped it on the ground, put it out with her shoe and kicked off the tower.

"Why do you keep doing this?" Y/n asked, smoke leaving through her mouth. "I knew you're gonna look at your silly little map to see where I am."

"We were starting to get worried. Theo is... you know, dangerous. We got scared he would hurt you."

And he did. Theo did hurt Y/n, just not physically.

"Hermione should be here instead. But, let me guess, you told her you'll check up on me."

"Maybe," Harry admitted finally, "do you know why? Because I actually care about you. I've had feelings for you for years. I deserve you, not Nott. I deserve you, because-"

"Because you're the chosen one?" She mocked and paused. "Look, Harry, I like you as a friend. I've never felt anything more than this. I can't change how I see you and I won't pretend otherwise."

He nodded, acceptance settling in. "I get it. I just... I thought if I cared enough, it would make a difference."

"Caring is important, Harry, but it doesn't always lead to the feelings we hope for."

"Whoever you date, just don't date Nott, please."

"I promise I won't. Not after today, I'm over him."

"Care to share what happened?"

"I'll tell you, Hermione and Ron in the common room. Let's go, I've been here too long."

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

Y/n didn't even know how wrong she was that night on the astronomy tower, but she forgot about it. Weeks went by, Christmas had passed, everyone were back from the break. Classes started again and Y/n found herself hoping to catch a glimpse of Theo.

They kept exchanging glances on the corridors, accidentally bumping into each other in the crowds. Y/n wanted to believe Theo liked her, but even if he did, they could never work.

"Y/n, listen to me," he said, catching her when she was alone in the library one time. "I know how things have been between us, but during the break I... I realized I don't wanna keep being enemies."

"Theo, you know it could never work. You said what you said and maybe it's better to leave it this way."

"I contemplated a lot," it was true, he spent the break mostly in his room, drowning in thoughts. About her, about them, coming to terms with what he was feeling. "I decided to accept my feelings."

"That's great for you, but we could never work. I've always 'fancied' you, I guess, despite what you were doing, ironically, but the time we worked on my project together, I accepted we could never work."

"And why's that?"

Y/n took a deep breath, wondering if he was stupid or just pretending. Maybe it was a bet he had with someone. Maybe Draco dared him to do this.

"You don't see how different we are? What do you expect is gonna happen? Would you introduce me to your father? Wouldn't you care that I'd get you disowned?"

Theo looked at her, Y/n could see sadness in his eyes. She realized her words made him realize the differences between them, because he walked away. Theo walked away without a word.

Y/n pierced her own heart with an invisible knife. She was really hoping they could work, but it just wasn't possible in this universe. Maybe there was a universe where none of this purity bullshit didn't exist. Y/n wished she would've been born there.

Y/n couldn't predict what Theo was going to do. She thought her words made him give up on her. It was for the best, of course, she should've focused on her studies firstly, and then on a realistic relationship.

It was a Friday. Y/n was sitting next to Ginny by the Gryffindor table. It was dinner time, all the students gathered in the Great Hall. All the students besides one Slytherin, the one that Y/n hoped to see. Maybe it was weird, but she enjoyed the sad looks they'd pass to each other.

"Hey, Y/n, are you listening?" Hermione asked from across the table.

"Sure," Y/n quickly shifted her eyes to her sister. "You were talking about Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"You've got divided attention. Stop looking at the Slytherin table."

"Ugh," Ginny groaned, "were you doing this again? Merlin, you stare at this Slytherin git 90% of the time."

"Well, he isn't here today. I wonder where he could be. Everyone else is here."

"There he is," Ron pointed out, rolling his eyes.

The golden trio and two younger Gryffindors looked at the doors' direction. Theo had just walked into the Great Hall, but surprisingly he didn't walk towards his table. He walked towards Y/n.

"Y/n," he spoke, catching everyone's attention. People were reading to witness another argument. "I can't help this, I love you."

Shocked noises came from all the tables, but Slytherins kept whispering between each other also when Theo continued talking.

"I don't care what anyone says, anyone thinks. Love is not meant to be controlled, it kills me to fight it."

Y/n stood up from the table, ready to leave the room.

"Theo, stop," she begged, "you're embarrassing us both. Your friends will-"

"I don't care what they do. If they don't accept it, they're not my friends. If anyone wants to fight me for having feelings for a muggleborn, I can fight, I've never lost a duel."

The whole Great Hall fell silent, even the teachers didn't try to intervene, when they saw Theo pulling out a small, black velvet box.

"I want you to wear this ring," he opened the box, "as my promise to always protect you from whoever tries to harm you or our relationship."

"It's beautiful, but..." Y/n was speechless by the sight of the ring. It was silver with two gemstones forming a subtle heart - half emerald and half ruby.

"It was custom made and if you accept it, I'll once get you a matching engagement ring. Also, there are thorns which will hurt you when you try taking it off. I want you forever, Y/n Granger."

The ring in the black velvet box sparkled under the enchanted ceiling. The Great Hall remained in silence as Theo poured his heart out, confessing his love. The unexpected turn of events had everyone on edge.

Slytherins exchanged intrigued glances, Gryffindors shared confused looks and even the teachers seemed to not know how to react. Y/n could feel the weight of everyone's eyes on her, and for a moment, she considered the potential consequences of accepting Theo's proposal.

"Theo," she began, her voice breaking, "it's not that simple."

"I know it is. But I can't keep hiding my feelings, Y/n. I've tried, and it's tearing me apart. I'll protect you from whatever comes our way."

Y/n looked at the ring, then back at him. "I believe in second chances. And I appreciate your sincerity. I accept the ring, Theo."

Theo carefully took the ring from the box and gently slid it onto Y/n's finger. The Great Hall burst with cheering and applause, only the Slytherin table didn't seem so enthusiastic about this.

Theo placed his hands on Y/n's waist, pulling her in for a kiss. She didn't hesitate to kiss him back, her hands sinking in his dense her yet the ring on her finger still visible, reflecting the light from the ceiling.

[trans-axolotl]

US Harm Reduction Resources

continually updating, not a complete list. feel free to add on any resources you find helpful.

Free Safer Supplies:

Each organization will have different supplies, but generally, harm reduction orgs provide things like syringes, safer snorting + smoking kits, Narcan, condoms, lube, and wound care supplies. Each org has different policies for how to get supplies--some do deliveries, some have drop in centers, some only do one to one needle exchange, some are more flexible.

Next Distro: mail based syringe provider for certain states. Also mails free Narcan.

NASEN: national map of syringe providers

a lot of harm reduction collectives aren't going to have their information listed on big national websites--it's always worth searching "harm reduction in my area" and seeing what's around you. Even if you don't live in a big city, there might be a harm reduction organization in your state that can help you find someone closer to you. there's a lot of rad people doing underground work who want to be there to help you who aren't as easy to find online. If there's street medic collectives, mutual aid groups or groups like Food not Bombs in your area, you can ask people in them who might know where to find harm reduction services in your area!

Drug Users Unions:

Drug users unions are activist groups made for people who use drugs, by people who use drugs! Drug users unions do advocacy work to end criminalization, as well as providing vital community support. Many drug users unions are also inclusive of sex workers and work to decriminalize sex work as well. You can search for "drug users union" in your state.

Urban Survivors Union: National, has resources for creating drug users union

Chosen Few: Drug users union for Black drug users in DC

San Francisco Drug users union

Sex Work Advocacy Groups:

Organizations that do decrim advocacy and provide support for sex workers.

Sex Worker Outreach Project USA- National, has chapters in many states.

Black Sex Worker Collective

Sex Workers Project

How to Use Safely:

Guides, videos, toolkits for safer use!

Harm Reduction Coalition Resource Library

Getting Off Right: A Safety Manual for Injection Drug Users

Safer Crack Smoking

Safer Snorting

Safer Hormone Injection

Levels of Risk: Veins

Wound Care video w/ ASL

How to Use Fentanyl Test Strips

DanceSafe-testing kits, including reagent testing kits!

Erowid-shares experiences people have with different drugs, dosages, what things to expect

Bluelight- another forum for discussing experiences with drugs.

Drug Interactions Checker

Sex Work Resources:

Tricks of the Trade by L. Synn Stern: tips for street based sex work

A Quick and Dirty Sex Worker Safety Toolkit

Girls Do What they Have to Do To Survive by YWEP

Dis/Organizing: How We Build Collectives Beyond Institutions by Rachel Kuo & Lorelei Lee

Tryst Blog

Hotlines:

Never Use Alone: 877-696-1996. Overdose Prevention Hotline--Volunteers stay on the phone with you while you use and call emergency services if you overdose.

HIPS Hotline-​​​1 (800) 676-4477. Emotional support for drug users and sex workers. Does not work with cops.

feel free to add on more resources. love + lube <3

[stevieschrodinger]

Just imagine how put out Dustin would be. He's spent months and months working on Steve, trying to get him to come and play. It had been a personal, ongoing campaign. He used every trick and manipulation and wasn't above just outright whining about it. All he asks is Steve try it; just once.

Just imagine how put out he is when Eddie gets out of the hospital, and he asks Steve one time, and Steve says yes. But of course Dustin can't complain OUT LOUD, because he got what he wanted, didn't he? Steve's going to play.

Dustin makes this as absolutely painless as possible; Steve doesn't even see his character sheet until it's done. Dustin has him roll for stats. They talk about race and class. They talk about what skills his character should have...but he doesn't go into detail. he wants to make this fun for Steve, so he lets Steve pick whatever the hell he wants and when Steve calls his gnome Trip Hazard, Dustin doesn't even bitch about it.

Dustin corners Eddie ten minutes before their one shot starts, and explicitly tells him to let Steve get away with absolutely any and all bullshit. The goal here is that Steve comes back.

Of course Dustin has no idea that Eddie has been making heart eyes at Steve for literally years and fully intends to do that, anyway.

It's a one off, so Eddie has some fun with it. He's generous with the XP and everyone has two levels before lunch, excitedly choosing new skills and spells. After a mini boss battle they come across a hoard of treasure; some of it magical.

It's a free for all and everyone walks away with a fun new powerful toy for their character; Eddie's even pre made little cards with illustrations, descriptions, and the magical abilities of each item. He does a whole array, more than they need, but everyone gets one thing each.

Steve, hilariously, chooses a seven foot spear.

Eddie holds it together and does not laugh. He lets Steve do whatever he wants, and when Steve has a moment of madness and acts out his tiny gnome suddenly getting his spear stuck in every single doorway, everyone looses their shit.

The final battle though, that evening, rapidly because serious; an acid spewing black dragon. Everyone rolls initiative. The Dragon, with advantage, goes first, and the battle goes back and forth for several turns before, "the great beast raises itself onto it's back legs, mighty wings spread, so massive they fill the cavern," Eddie climbs up on his chair, spreading his arms demonstrably, "the dragon draws in a mighty breath...Will the Wise, your move."

The party uses their turn to attack, moving their little people on the board appropriately. Steve's turn comes and everyone looks at him..."I'll, ah, move, I think."

"Attack Steve!" Dustin encourages him.

Steve moves his little gnome, with hilariously oversized cardboard accessory, to directly in front of the dragon, the air in the room grows heavy, intent, "no attack...I set to receive a charge."

Every turns to look at Eddie, who frowns down at the map.

"It's on here," Steve volunteers the little card that came with his spear. "This counts, right? Double damage because it's magic, then setting to receive a charge is double damage again..."

Everyone looks back to Eddie again who, solemnly, frowns...then nods.

The dragon unleashes it's attack, everyone in the party taking damage. The dragon falls forward, aiming to land on all of it's feet again.

"Does that...work?" Steve asks hesitantly.

Eddie nods. The damage is so great when Dustin works it out, they have to borrow dice from Will to combine with Dustin's so Steve can roll them all together. The combination enough to fill his cupped hands.

Steve kills the dragon. Everyone is up, screaming and cheering.

Steve is the only one to notice when Eddie rolls damage; Trip Hazard is instantly killed by the crushing force of a dragons corpse.

Steve doesn't care, especially not when Eddie gets real close to whisper in his ear, "that was so fucking clever, I'm furious."

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

The way of the water

request: can i have some kaz x grisha!reader where she's a tidemaker and during a heist he falls into the water and she uses her powers to pull him out and helps him through a panic attack? hurt/comfort and preferably established relationship pls and thx

a/n I am so tired that I do not know what this is. And I really apologize if it is bad.

warning: drowning?, fear of water, not really played into his touch aversion.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Kaz was convinced that you were simply his best investment. A quick and smart way of dealing with his fear of water. He had torn earth and sky. Put at least five bullets between different merchants' eyes before he found you locked in a glass tomb. For a moment, you looked repulsive to him. Floating in the water like a corpse. But then again, he remembered the gossip. The way the creature was forced into a trance. It had been the only way to drag you out of the village the salesman had raided once the word about your kind spread. Just you didn’t remind him of a creature...

“Unlock her," Kaz had muttered to Jasper, who had stood gaping like a fish himself, “and I don’t know... offer her water." Kaz had glanced one more time at you. “Very funny, boss," Jasper hissed. “You do know that she could bite my head off and drown me once I...", but Jasper was only met with a slam of the door.

The weeks that followed left Kaz both satisfied and frustrated. You had tried to run only five times in a span of two weeks. In an angry haze, Kaz had locked you against the staircase railing. Much to everyone’s displeasure. But then he only managed to sit in his office for an hour before he found himself reaching for his cane.

“Extend your leg," he muttered, watching as the droplets fell to the floor. Your angry eyes darted toward him. “Sometimes I’m glad you can’t move blood," he muttered under his breath. “Careful, maybe you don’t know all of my tricks," you huffed, pulling your chained leg beneath yourself. Kaz inhaled deeply. He needed you. There was no use in you if you just sulked.

“You do know that I wasn’t the one who brought you here. I saved you from a very bleak existence. You should be thankful," he said blankly. “My apologies; you want me to bow or kneel?”, you scowled back. “I don’t want to exploit you, I..." Kaz swallowed thickly. He hadn’t told anyone why he had been so close to obsessively looking for you. He was sure they had found their conclusions on their own. “I need your help," he finished.

Kaz watched as curiosity flicked in your gaze. He knew that you weren’t going to ask. You could very well just sit there for hours. “I don’t like... I have a complicated relationship with water." For some reason, Kaz was waiting for you to start laughing. Make a joke. But the expression on your face didn’t change. If anything, the harsh frown eased up. “It… I had to be near corpses during the plague”, Kaz pulled at the suit he was wearing as his throat slowly closed up with anxiety. But then, in a heartbeat, the air in the room shifted. The dripping of the leaks in the roof faded to nothing. Kaz lifted his head to assess the droplets turning to mist the moment they entered the room. Once he glanced back down, he found you standing with the chained leg extended to him. He held your gaze for a moment before nodding. A silent understanding taking shape between you both.

“It’s an easy job. Pick up the document and go." It had been a while since any job had come into Kaz’s view. One he would like to take on, at least. Until now. He needed that handbook, the new shipment trades, and the new substance that had leaked into the market. “Worst-case scenario, there’s a harbor," Kaz tapped onto the map. His eyes caught yours across the room. He had sworn to never involve you in the Six Crows business but caved in after watching you wilt into nothing for weeks. So now he just offered you the safest job he could find. To stand watch. To leave false trails. To watch his back if a big body of water was near.

“Fourth floor. You will go through here." Kaz quickly averted his gaze. “I will scale the outside wall." He could hear the sharp breath you had taken in. He knew why. The side wall was bordered by the edge of the dock. Kaz swallowed thickly and said, “Get me that fucking book," before folding the map up and showing it into the top drawer of the desk.

The salty water kissed your skin as you slowly walked into the waves. You knew that Kaz watched you from his spot. You could feel his eyes on you. It had been weird the last few months. Going from full terror to finding a strange family of sorts. Yet still, it was Kaz who intrigued you the most. It was unusual the relationship between you two. If you could even call it that. You rarely talked, but then it never felt like you had to. He understood. And when he wanted you to be there when he tried to overcome his fear of water, you would just linger there. Like a phantom touch. Guarding him. And then he would stand there looking at you for hours. Eyes pouring more than words could ever tell.

You are the one watching him now. Like a shadow. Crawling up the wall. Each move is calculated, each move is planned out. Covered by the waves crashing against the shore. It always bugged you in the moments when you couldn’t see him. When he was inside the building, outside of your sight. You couldn’t protect him there. Even if Jasper had told you time after time that it was you and all of them that needed saving from Kaz, not the other way around.

A loud bang sent your head shooting up to the balcony. Voices following through. Shouts. Glass braking. The light flickering on throughout the whole upper floor. One that was supposed to stay undisturbed. Your own heart picked up in pace. Then the dark coat appeared, swaying in the wind. Another figure leaped upfront. The two wrestle in the tight spaces. A loud snap. And there it was. The time stopped still as a flash of Kaz’s face eliminated by the moon glimpsed by right as his body was forced over the railing. You had barely managed to swallow his name while diving into the waves. Forcing your body to move as fast as possible.

The free fall felt short, but the impact of the water felt as if Kaz had been drowning for an eternity. He didn’t even realize that he was falling into the water. He was prepared for hard ground. But the panic that filled his body when he was submerged made him let out a gasp. Filling his lungs with salty water. Memories of the past clasped clammy hands all over him, dragging him deeper and deeper. The light from the moon fading away.

And then it’s as if he’s wrapped in an invisible net. Kaz blinks once, and it’s you there. Right in front of him. By some absolute stupidity, he tries to call out your name. Letting more water into his lungs. Your eyes grow big, and then your fingers are grasping for him. Kaz catches that apologetic expression on your face before you pull him closer to you. Lips crashing into his, and at once it feels as if his lungs don’t remember how to breathe or how to welcome that gust of oxygen. But he’s holding onto you regardless. Feeling the fear fade away until it all goes black.

“Look at me," you frantically tap at Kaz’s cheek. Breathing heavily. The very tips of the waves still kissing your legs. You didn’t have enough energy to pull you both out fully. Feet slipping beneath the wet sand. Making you fall over, with Kaz’s body following right with you. "Kaz," you press your ear against his chest, trying to listen for a heartbeat, but you’re too anxious and too shaky to distinguish anyway.

“Why aren’t you waking up? Wake up!" You whine in frustration, pressing your lips against his now-blue ones. A kiss from you had to be enough. Had to breathe him back to life. You couldn’t have been too late. Couldn’t have. And then Kaz jerks, sitting up in a rush, his pained coughs slipping past his lips. You don’t dare to touch him now. You know he doesn’t like it. You had already overstepped as it was, but now.

“What the fuck?", he hissed through clenched teeth, making you drop your gaze. “Are you out of your mind?”, Kaz was coughed once again. Now you could see a sharp gash in his forehead. Still leaking blood. Your fingers traced the wet sand. “I saved it," you muttered, handing him the book he had come for—one that fell alongside him into the water. Kaz rips it out of your grasp, throwing it to the side. His fingers wrap around your wrist. “Are you insane?”, he hisses, pulling you closer. “You could have gotten hurt; they could have very well shot at you." His words hit you like a blow, leaving you speechless as you glanced up at him.

“Your arm." You want to laugh at how insane this is. Had you too hit your heads? Why is he concerned with... “What happened to your hand?” Kaz demands, making you glance down at the torn flesh. He was too heavy for you to lift up the dock. You tried. Unfortunately, that resulted in you slipping, and since you were too afraid to let go of his body, your arm met the sharp edge of the hook that was left carelessly there.

The sound of the shirt being ripped makes you blink. And here he stands. Taring his shirt up before grasping your hand as he wraps it around. “Your head," you mutter, "You," "It’s a scuff," Kaz grunts, his fingers shaking the longer he touches you. You back away slightly, not wanting him to do something he’s uncomfortable with. But Kaz’s wild eyes meet yours, making you still. “Next time," he breathes out, “Next time, you swim away without looking back.”

He drops your arm, turning away from you. Brushing his shaky fingers through his messy hair. “There will be no next time," you mutter, making Kaz turn around so quickly it makes you jolt. “There will be no next time," you continue once again, “because I will be right there, right under, and you will never get to feel what drowning feels like." Your hands wrap into fists as angry tears roll down your face. Kaz shakes his head. “You silly girl," he huffs, stopping closer to you. Not daring to touch you, but enough to feel your body close. Enough to feel whatever that is left of both of your bodies's warmth bouncing off of each other. Kaz takes a deep breath, "I would rather drown over and over again than see you get hurt again.”

[thealtoduck]

Greedy

Peter Parker x Male Black Cat!Reader

Warnings: Smut, semi-angsty, top!Reader, bottom!Peter, friends with benefits, unprotected sex, rough sex, anal sex, fingering, doggy style, spanking, you cry after sex, calling Peter a whore, slut, etc…

Male Black Cat!Reader: Masterlist

Summary: After a failed robbery you’re pissed of so Peter helps you release some frustration…

——

You shot your grappling hook and swung yourself to another building closely followed by Spider-Man. He’d been able to keep up with you a lot better than usual, having learned to avoid your regular tricks and traps.

”You’ve gotten better at this!” you called out to the superhero chasing you. You jumped the gap to another building. Suddenly a web caught your arm pulling it back making you lose balance and fall hitting the rooftop floor.

You felt a pain in your leg as you quickly tried standing back up. Spider-Man swung right over your head and landed in front of you. ”Or maybe you’ve just gotten slow” he teased, the two of you then engaged in combat.

You slashing at him with your claws and him doing his best to block and dodge your attacks. Once he went on the offensive you ducked his quick strong jabs. Spider-Man noticed the leg you fell on was shaky as you avoided his punches.

He used this to his advantage and did a sweep with his leg knocking you to the ground, it was usually by now you found some gadget or distraction to give yourself a chance to escape. Spider-Man quickly ran up to you and ripped your backpack from your back and quickly webbed one of your arms down keeping you in place.

”You can’t take that” you said losing the regular playfullness in your voice. ”I just did” Spider-Man said victoriously. He went for the zipper on the bag while muttering ”What did you even steal?”. You watched with a glare as Spider-Man brought out a set of files from your bag.

”Put that back” you demanded but he ignored you. He opened one of the files and stated ”It’s the layout of a prison” he then turned his gaze to you and asked ”Are you planning to break someone out?”. He continued looking through some other files as you desperately looked for a way to free yourself.

You heard sirens in the distance approaching and even though you couldn’t see his mouth you knew Spider-Man was smirking. ”Well looks like i finally caught you Cat, tell me how does it feel?”.

Then you found something. ”Oh Spider… when will you learn, you can’t cage the Black Cat” you said and threw one of your newer gadgets towards him, which he easily dodged out of the way for it as it hit the water tower behind him. ”You missed” Spider-Man said proudly, but as he noticed your facial expression he realised… you hadn’t missed.

Next thing he knew an explosion came and he was completely drenched in water and the water tower started collapsing on to him. The files you had collected were washed away spreading wet sheets of paper out all over the rooftop.

Spider-Man managed to catch the falling water tower as it landed on top of him. He then threw it to the side and turned to where you had been webbed finding only an empty spot with some left over webbing.

”Shit” he swore to himself. He tried to pick up some wet paper files but they fell apart almost instantly as he did. At least he had managed to foil your break out plans he thought to himself.

——

You grappled your way to your secret lair, an old storage unit your mom had used during her time as the Black Cat. You opened your door and walked inside seeing collections of jewelry and paintings, maps with marked out locations and all your tech stuff. You slammed the door behind you and ripped off your mask throwing it aside.

You walked up to your working bench and slammed your fists on the table, your one chance you could’ve had to free your mom from prison and that stupid arachnid boy had ruined everything.

You grabbed something random from the working bench and threw it across the room in a rage, making it smash against the wall…

——

You layed with crossed arms on your bed leaning against the headborard as Peter played video games on your flatscreen tv. Your dad was out of town for business so you and Peter decided to have a sleepover while he was gone.

You thought about canceling with Peter after last nights failed theft but you hoped his company might help cheer you up… so far it wasn’t working, you had a noticable scowl on your face and a clear lack of energy in your voice.

Peter had noticed but not pointed it out as he wasn’t completely sure you wanted to talk about it. Once he finished the level he put the controller aside and layed down next to you. He gently touched your arm and asked ”Y/n, are you okay?”

You turned to him with a distracted look and said simple ”Yeah” but then added a ”Just in a bad mood”. ”Do you want me to leave or something? I can give you space?” Peter asked sweetly, sitting up ready to leave if you wanted some alone time.

”No, stay, i like your company” you said but with more softness in your voice this time as you put your hand on top of his, giving it a light squeeze. ”Alright… is there anything i can do for you?” Peter asked generously. You stayed silent for a moment…

”Can i fuck you?…” you said a mix of coldness and longing in your voice. Peter was caught of guard making him silent, making you quickly add ”You really don’t have to if you don’t want to, i just- i just want some release… that’s all”.

Peter thought about it for a moment and asked curiously ”What did you have in mind?”. You stood up and said ”Come on” and led him out of your room, and down the hallway. You then opened the door to another room where Peter followed you inside.

It was a bigger room than yours, the first thing Peter noticed were the two glass doors along the left wall that opened to a balcony looking out over the other suburban houses. He looked around the room, along the walls were some really nice paintings, like straight out of a museum.

There were also some pictures of you as a child spread around the room, as well as a big family portrait hanging over the headboard of a large bed, a bed for two. This was you parents room.

You stood in front of the double bed and then explained in a darkened tone ”I want to take you like whore on my parents bed”. The request left Peter on mute, this was something new to him… having sex on your parents bed felt so inappropriate and lewd… and he was suprisingly really turned on by it.

”Look, like i said you really don’t have to if-” you said again but Peter interrupted saying ”Yeah, let’s do it”. You nodded and said ”Okay, get ready then, i’ll get the lube”. You said leaving and walking back to your room.

Peter slowly started undressing pulling of his shirt and pants, leaving him in socks and underwear. Peter moved on to the bed and tried to position himself in a sexy way, like he’d seen you do before.

When you came back inside you threw the bottle of lube on to the bed and tugged your own shirt off. You stood yourself on the edge of the bed and pulled Peter closer by his legs. Peter stood up on his knees and the two of you started hungrily making out.

You grabbed at Peter’s bulge feeling him getting hard in your hand, you then slipped in your hand inside his underwear and rubbed your hand along his cock with a firm grip of him. Peter let out a soft moan in your face as you did.

You then gently pushed Peter on to his back on the big bed and dragged his underwear down his legs and threw them on the floor. Peter was now naked in front of you apart from his white socks which you decided to leave on because you thought it made him look cute.

You unbuckled your belt and pulled you pants down and climbed onto the bed in between his legs. You opened the bottle of lube and poured some in your hand and spreading it on your fingers. You then lifted Peter’s spread legs revealing his tight hole that hadn’t been used in a while.

You mercilessly started shoving your first finger in to him making his mouth gape open. ”Fuck” Peter swore as you watched in satisfaction. You impatiently added another finger into him and then another, pumping them in and out him loosening up his ass. Peter’s dick was now rockhard as you finger fucked him.

You then suddenly pulled out your fingers from him, wanting to get your hard manhood inside him. You flipped Peter on to his stomach giving you a full view of his bubble butt, you started teasing your length against his hole.

You squeezed Peter’s left cheek and gave it a light spank. ”You want my cock?” you asked as you kept teasing his awaiting heat. ”Yeah, i want it, please” Peter said almost begging. You spread his ass and pushed your hung cock in to his tight hole, making Peter whine beneath you.

You groaned feeling Peter’s tight walls around your manhood. ”Fuck Y/n, you’re so big” Peter moaned as you sheated yourself inside him. ”Bet you like that” you said grabbing his hips. Without giving Peter much time to adjust you started rolling your hips, your cock moving in and out of him.

”Taking it like a real slut” you said degradingly as Peter moaned in to the matress. You sped up your thrusts making the sound of skin slapping together sound out through the room, his ass kneading your cock like perfection. You moved your hands to Peter’s back pressing him onto the bed.

”Such a whore for my cock aren’t you?” you asked him as you roughly took his ass. But Peter was to blissed out to answer, you raised a hand and gave Peter’s right ass cheek a hard slap that echoed through the room. ”Aren’t you?” you repeated demandingly.

”Yes, i’m your whore” Peter let out through the ectasy he felt. You fucked yourself in to his heat agressively, using the rage you felt to fuck him like a bitch. His hole clenching around you making you groan loudly.

You bodies started getting sweaty from you intense fucking. Peter moaned loudly as you plowed in to him. ”You love when men fuck you full of their cum?” you asked in a rough tone as your big cock pushed against Peter’s prostate.

”Yes, i love being filled with cum!!!” Peter moaned loudly. If anyone was standing outside the bedroom door they would’ve definetely heard every single word. You laid down on to of Peter and took his hands that were gripping the bedsheets and held Peter down as you thrust wildly in to him.

Peter started getting close from the feeling of your cock fucking deeply in to his now loose open hole. ”I’m gonna cum” Peter whined through his moans. ”Cum then you little whore” you said grabbing Peter’s messy sweaty hair in your hand.

Peter’s length pressed down to the matress then started spilling his seed in to a puddle on the sheets. You thrusts started growing eratic and hungry as you chased your own release. ”Gonna fuck my whore full of cum” you growled to the tired out Peter beneath you.

”Yes fill me with your cum!” Peter gasped which was all you needed to hear as you delivered one last powerful thrust in to him and let your seed erupt deep inside Peter’s heat, filling him all the way up. His hole started leaking as soon as you pulled out of him.

You laid down beside Peter in exhaustion feeling cleansed of your anger. You looked to the side where spotted a picture on the nightside table, it was a picture of you as a kid and your mom before she got locked up. It made a new feeling bubble up inside you.

Sadness…

A tear started trickling down your cheek your cheek as you let out a small whimper. Peter heard and immediately turned to you. He noticed tears had started uncontrolably rolling down your cheeks.

”Y/n, are you okay? Did i do something wrong?” Peter quickly questioned. You shook your head and said ”No, i’m just emotional”. Peter looked conserned at you. ”Can you hold me?” you asked him through sniffs. ”Of course” Peter said and let you nuzzle your tear stained face in to his chest.

He didn’t really understand what was happening or what brought this on but he wrapped his arms around your body letting you cry. You calmed down after a while but you the two of you stayed cuddled together.

Soon enough the two of you fell asleep in the big bed holding each other closely all through the night.

[jujutsubaby]

🫧 skin care daddy 🫧

☆ pairing: satoru gojo x afab!reader ☆ summary: your skin's been breaking out recently and you're stressed at work and you have your sister's wedding to attend in a week. according to the internet, this is the best spa in town, and you're lowkey desperate at this point...it can't be that bad right? ☆ tags: modern au ☆ warnings: penetrative sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f!recieving), facial, dirty talk, fingering, flicking the bean?? idk ☆ a/n: guys i swear i am cooking in the kitchen with the asks from my follower event AND other shit OK!! sorry for the wait on everything but here is a little crumb bc i love u all!! i was feeling unhinged bc i saw two things: 1) a spa called skin care daddy and 2) a post or one shot where the reader got a facial from gojo and it cleared her skin. idk i just felt inspired to make this bc it felt the universe was asking me to. not proofread some plot with corn u know the vibes babes xx ☆ word count: 7k+

"sorry, we're all booked for this weekend and the next. we usually recommend that our customers book 3 weeks in advance for our services at the ritz carlton luxury spa." the lady on the other end of the line was objectively speaking very politely, but you were far too frustrated with your situation to notice.

"great, yeah, no, thanks." you say quickly, hanging up the phone and groaning into your pillow.

"no luck at the ritz?" you turn to face your best friend, nobara.

"they're all booked, what a surprise!" you say sarcastically, your voice still slightly muffled by the pillow.

"i mean, c'mon, y/n. your face is not that bad..." nobara tries and deeply fails to comfort you, making you chuckle half heartedly.

you get up from your bed and walk over to the full body mirror of your closet in order to get up close and personal with your face. your fingers stretch on the skin around your breakouts as you study them with determination, as if just willing them to be gone will do the trick. it doesn't.

"it's bad enough that all the aunties will say something snarky to me all day."

you're usually one to always follow through on your skincare routine, am and pm, and watch what you eat carefully so that you don't get breakouts. but you recently went through a rough patch (read: a hellish period) and your face took the brunt of the damage. it wasn't your fault you were having massive cramps and craved hot cheetos the entire week (it was so worth it) but now, a week before your sister's wedding, you're facing the consequences.

you sigh. the ritz was the fifth place you guys called that didn't have any space for an all day facial, but you couldn't run out of hope. back to the drawing board.

you open up your laptop and get back to searching on google maps, as nobara does the same thing. you're grateful she's helping you out during your, albeit, dumb crisis, but what are girl friendships for? a spa you've never heard of before suddenly catches your eye and you zoom in. skin care daddy? you read the finer print underneath it. best day spa in tokyo.

you snort. best day spa in tokyo my ass. if it really was the best day spa in tokyo, why have you never heard of it?

nobara laughs, almost on cue. "wait, dude, are you seeing this spa?" she turns her phone around and you see she's also looking at skin care daddy. "this has to be a joke, right? no way would they be allowed to open up a spa named that, right?"

"ohmygod, i was just looking at that!" you say excitedly. "it literally sounds like a sex bot made it for unsuspecting horny losers to click on and get like, a crazy virus." you both laugh at how ridiculous this place sounds.

nobara's laugh almost abruptly stops as she scrolls down the place. "wait, stop. this place has like...over ten thousand reviews and a 4.9 star rating..."

you immediately click on the place and take a closer look at the reviews and ratings and see she's right. "i don't think i've ever seen a place have this many reviews with consistent ratings?" your brows scrunch as you read aloud some of the top reviews.

"this spa has given me the some of the best facials of my life. i always come to this spa whenever i'm in the area, and the people working there are obsessed with taking care of their customers. 10/10" you're baffled by the review sounding so...weird but you think nothing of it. you make a mental note that you are kinda desperately looking for a miracle facial to help with your breakouts, so maybe you shouldn't count this place out just yet.

nobara half heartedly scoffs as she reads the next one. "i've had chronic acne and back pain for years until i saw someone from here who made me feel soo good. you'll be coming here all the time once you go. maybe even multiple times a day."

"how good can this place be if you have to go multiple times to make sure your spa treatment worked?" you say, rolling your eyes at these reviews. "these can't be real right?"

"they sound incentivized or like someone paid them to write it or somethin'" nobara surmises.

"maybe it's a cult or something," you say, causing both of you to double over in laughter.

"a cult disguised as a spa is a bit too insane, even for tokyo." nobara says as she scrolls through and skims more reviews. "aren't you looking for a facial anyway? everyone's saying they're really good here...you know...despite the..." she gestures with her hands the reviews on her phone.

"ugh, am i for real that desperate for clear skin that i'm willing to go to a shady ass day spa?" you roll on to your back on your bed and stare at the ceiling, contemplating.

"can't be that shady if it's ten thousand reviews. say what you want but that's a lot of reviews to pay money for."

nobara has a point. you grab your laptop and try to look for a link to their website and see they don't have a website. interesting. not a red flag but just interesting. maybe i have to call for bookings? you search for a phone number, but fail to find one.

"wait, are you able to find any contact for this spa?" you ask noabra and you see her squinting her eyes at the phone.

"no i wasn't but i saw a review that basically said this spa is a walk-in type of deal?"

"it's a walk-in but has thousands of reviews? how does that even work? people are probably waiting years in line to get in?"

"dunno," nobara shrugs, and puts her phone back in her pocket. "maybe it's like a 'if-you-know-you-know' type of thing so it's like popular through word of mouth of somethin'"

damn. even more shady, then. you chew on your lip and stare at the ceiling again, trying to imagine all the things your aunties will say to you at the wedding.

"27 and still unmarried? shame."

"oh, you really need to watch your diet, the breakouts will never go away otherwise."

"clear skin is the first step to find a man who will desire you, y/n."

you feel like your skin is burning thinking about the so-called "advice" you're likely to receive at the wedding. normally you wouldn't care, but your hormones have been kind of out of wack with the new birth control you started recently, and you're not sure if you can really take any form of bullshit other than your sister's this weekend.

your thoughts are interrupted by nobara getting up from your chair. "alright, i'm off to work. need a ride to skin care daddy?"

"yeah, actually," you say as you slowly get out of your bed and change our of your pajamas.

"wait, what?!" nobara says with wide eyes. "i was actually joking when i said that. are you seriously gonna go? y/n, i dunno about this one..."

"c'mon! it's like you said, it's weird but it's not necessarily shady..." you say, mostly trying to convince yourself as you put on a pair of your favorite lazy girl black flared yoga pants.

nobara seems to consider it for a moment before responding. "kay, fine. but if i take you there and it's some abandoned warehouse-"

"then we'll drive away. no way in hell i'm about to die for this place." you assure nobara, putting her at ease.

you quickly don a thrifted gray hoodie and put your hair up in a messy bun. you don't care to put on any makeup, since you're probably gonna have to take it off anyway. if the day spa isn't shady and in an abandoned warehouse.

you quickly grab your keys and wallet before gesturing to nobara to leave. she sighs, looking at her phone one more time.

"fuck it, let's go before i change my mind."

"okay it says it's just right around the corn-"

"OH MY GOD?!" you're unable to hold back your disbelief as nobara took the corner to, what you think, might the chicest and prettiest boutique you've ever laid eyes on. the front was adorned with a gorgeous light blue awning with european style bell-shaped pendant lights making it almost glow during the day time.

"what the hell...ain't no way..." noabra is at a loss for words for how fancy it looks. "they have the money to rent out a place like this but no website?"

"or have a phone number." you mumble as you open nobara's car door. you turn around and give her a quick wave. she tells you to give her a call and tell her how it is after and you promise to do so. as nobara drives off, all the skepticism evaporates from your body looking at the dainty and cute decor all over the place.

you walk in to a fairly large lobby, with a desk in the middle and waiting chairs surrounding it. the calming scent of lavender, green tea, and patchouli hits your nose, and your guard immediately drops; the aroma relaxes you almost instantly.

you look around and are surprised to see only two other women in the waiting chairs on their phone. one of them seemed older, kind of like a mother, and the other seemed to be your age, but far more demure.

"hey, there! welcome to skin care daddy! we're determined to take care of you all your needs, no matter what! how can i help you today?" your head whips around to the guy sitting at the reception desk, and you feel a bit embarrassed; he must've noticed how lost you looked here, and you force yourself to straighten up and regain your composure as you slowly walk to the front desk. you take a closer at the guy with shaggy black hair sitting in the chair in front of you.

"hi..." you squint to see the faint print on his name badge. "yuta".

"yup! that's me!" he chirps. you know he probably has to exaggerate his good mood for the sake of the job but it kind of irks you. "what can i do for you today, miss?"

"yeah, uhh...what services do you guys offer? i tried looking online but you guys didn't have a website and..." your wandering eyes can't help but look around skeptically around the front desk and the doors on either side of the lobby.

"well, we offer whatever you need, miss. just tell us what you're looking for and we'll have it. i guarantee it."

"okay, well. my sister's getting married next weekend and..." you gesture to your face. "my life has been all sorts of stressful and hormonal so honestly, i'm just looking for something that can help me feel refreshed-"

you're interrupted by someone entering in from the right side of the lobby door. it's a woman who, you must say, looks glowing. her skin is bright and she quite looks like she's almost levitating. guiding her out of the spa is a young man, around your age, with blond hair and round glasses. he's unbelievably built, with strong hands rubbing her back softly and a chiseled jaw. he's wearing what you think is the uniform of this place: white dress shirt with the top two buttons undone and black slacks.

your breath gets caught in your throat momentarily. no fucking way. this guy works here? he's so fucking...hot. you have to force your eyes to tear away from him as you try your hardest to focus back on your conversation with yuta.

yuta chuckles as he follows your gaze. "ah, yes, mr. nanami is a customer favorite esthetician here. anyway, seems like you're going through a rough time and you came to the perfect place! normally, i would recommend the oxygen facial, but since you said you have a wedding..." yuta types something on the computer for a bit. "personally, i would recommend the full body tokyo special."

you're not entirely what an oxygen facial is, nor what the tokyo special is, and you feel even more stupid asking this guy who seems to be in college for more information.

"um, sorry, what's a full body tokyo special? i think i just need a really good facial."

"oh no worries, miss. i apologize. the full body tokyo special consists of a hands-on full body aromatherapy massage and our famous milkbomb facial, which'll do wonders for your skin." he winks at you. why did he wink at you?

you're unable to think about whether or not you even wanna do anything here when a group of men barge in through the left door of the lobby, laughing loudly, before lowering their voices.

one of the men is a dark haired man, seemingly a little older than the other two and yourself, but also very much ripped just like mr. nanami. you tried not to stare at the skin tight black shirt he wore that attenuated his pecs but miserably failed. he took the quickest glance at you and gave the faintest smile, revealing a slight scar on the left side of his lip. a scar that makes him sexier? you've gotta be kidding me. you follow his gaze to the older woman you saw sitting here when you came in, who know looks completely enamored by the man.

"there's my favorite mama," the man coos, holding an arm out for her as she skipped to him. he leads her to the other door, and you could hear them giggling and talking, as if this wasn't the first time they've seen each other.

"aight, see ya later, man." the other dark haired man said to his friend, before making eye contact with you, and then giving a slight smirk to yuta. he heads straight to the demure girl you saw when you walked in, and holds his hand out to her and she blushes and grabs it.

"th-thanks for seeing me again, geto-san." the girl says so softly that you have to strain your ears to listen.

"i told you to call me suguru..." you hear him joke as they disappear behind the door.

"like what you see?" you turn your head to the last guy, who now is far too close for your liking. you take a small step back, which makes him chuckle.

"yuta-kun! who do we have here?" the man asks boisterously. despite being indoors, he's wearing dark circled sunglasses. what a douche.

"oh, hey gojo-sensei. this is..." yuta looks at you, waiting for you to say your name.

"y/n." you say a bit too late, still trying to process the barrage of attractive men that just showed up all at once and what they had to do with the spa.

yuta starts filling in the man about what you were looking for, as you take in the man who's intently listening to him. he has white hair, and is wearing the same uniform as mr. nanami was, with three buttons undone and his hair slightly disheveled. he's also really tall. like really tall. like he towers over you easily tall. but also, just as well built like everyone else.

what is this place? you knew men could work in salons and parlors and spas, but this place seemed to be exclusively run by them. and not just any men, really attractive men. and what's worse is that you were not complaining. sure, it's a bit weird but there's really no other choice for you at this point.

"ahh, the tokyo special, huh?" he says, turning at you and giving you a bright smile which you suspect he gives to everyone who comes in here. "nice choice."

"he's the one who chose it, and i'm not even sure if i want it." you say, pointing to yuta, and trying your hardest to stand your ground. you have to really make sure this spa treatment is actually gonna help and not just a scam for your money.

"well, he chose right. i've never seen you here before, so you must be new here, right?" you nod, suddenly feeling really small and embarrassed about your attitude before. god, you're never one to behave badly in front of service workers. the hormones are really doing a number on your mood. maybe you could benefit from this "tokyo special".

he leans down to meet your eyes and takes off his sunglasses, and you’re face to face with the most gorgeous ocean blue eyes you've ever seen. through an almost hypnotic effect, you feel much calmer than you did before, and more trusting of him. "well, lucky for you, i've got an opening right now. i'll help you feel right at home." he gives you a wink, and you can't help but feel there's some other hidden meaning behind what he says.

"umm...well..." you say, holding on to the thin strings of your resolve.

"gojo-sensei is the best masseuse and esthetician here, especially for first timers like yourself, miss y/n. i guarantee you'll leave the establishment more than satisfied with his work." yuta assures you with a smile.

and with that, your resolve completely dissolves and you nod and hand him your credit card and he takes the information. gojo touches the small of your back ever so slightly, and you hope he doesn't feel you shiver at his touch.

"he just loves kissing up to me so he can get a full time job here after college. i'm his favorite cousin, after all." he says, making you giggle as you walk through the two panel doors into the spa.

"thanks for taking me in during your opening, mr. gojo." you say politely, feeling grateful as he leads you down the corridor of the neat, clean, and minimally decorated hallway.

"i think you're gonna be the one taking me in," gojo mumbles under his breath while opening the door to a room that looked like a doctor's office. a single lavender massage table greets you with small cabinets on either side.

you're unable to catch what he said. "what? did you say something?"

"i said call me satoru. no need to get so formal with me, i'm just some dude who works here." he chuckles. he locks the door as you sit up on the massage table awkwardly, unsure of how you should be positioning yourself or what exactly he was planning.

gojo goes to the corner and pulls out a fluffy white bathrobe and hands it to you. you're blown away by how soft it feels in your hands -- luxury at it's finest, you guess.

"okay, i just have a quick questionnaire i need you to fill out, probably will take around a minute," he says, as he grabs a clipboard with a pen attached to it from another drawer and takes a seat on a padded lab stool. he rolls closer to you until his long slender legs are almost touching your calves.

"alrighty here...okay, first question…” the questions gojo reads off are normal enough, with various clauses consenting to the spa treatment, confirming your age, and so forth. they don’t start getting weird until later. “ok last three, we’re almost done.” you notice a shit-eating grin on his face as he scribbles your answer to the previous question. “okay, are you a virgin?”

“what?!” 

“are you a virg-”

“i heard you the first time. what kinda question is that? that’s so invasive, what the hell are you play-” you’re ready to give an entire speech to this guy about how inappropriate and irrelevant the question is. 

“it’s fine if you don’t wanna answer it, i just can’t continue the treatment if you don’t.” gojo says this so simply and nonchalantly, as if the question was about your favorite color, and not an intimate detail about your sexuality. 

“okay, fine. not a virgin.” you cross your hands in irritation. 

“not…a...virgin…” you hear him say under his breath as he scribbles something you cannot see on his clipboard. you try leaning forward to see what he’s writing (and if there really was a question like that on the questionnaire but he quickly pulls it closer to his chest, giving you a teasing smirk. “are you on birth control?”

“y-yes?” 

“good to know. last question: got any STDs i need to know about?”

oh, for fuck’s sake. this is ridiculous. does he think you’ve never been to a spa before? the usual thai place you go to never asks this many questions. “do you have any STDs i need to worry about? what is this? 20 questions?”

“you can ask them to me back, i’d be happy to answer them.” he says calmly with a coy smile. “in fact, i’ll answer them right now. no, no, and no.”

you sign in defeat. “no for me too.” maybe this is what happens when a place has like, ten thousand 5 star reviews on google maps. they just ask the weirdest questions. there’s a small voice berating yourself for folding so easily regarding his questions, but whatever. you’re ready to get this treatment over with. 

“okay, take off all your clothes and wear the bathrobe. do you want me to step outside?”

what the hell kinda question is that? of course, he’s supposed to step outside? “um, yeah?” you say it almost obviously, not feeling bad about the attitude that’s coming out of you. 

gojo raises his hand in surrender. “sorry, just askin’...” he grabs his clipboard and steps out of the room, saying he’ll be back in five minutes for the warm up massage. you quickly undress yourself. you have a feeling he’s the type to come in within seconds of knocking on the door without checking to see if you’re decent. you’re unsure where to place your clothes other than the table next to the cabinet so you neatly fold them, hiding your underwear and bra within the folds of your yoga pants and sweatshirt. 

just as promised, gojo shows up five minutes later with one knock before welcoming himself in. he’s holding a dark colored glass bottle filled with a calming essential oil for massaging, and turns on the diffuser in the room. 

“thanks for undressing,” he says, looking at the neatly folded pile of clothes on the counter. “alright, here’s how this is gonna go. i’m gonna give you a nice full body massage to loosen your muscles up, and then we do the facial last, sound good, princess?” 

your skin tingles at him calling you that nickname, but you ignore it. there’s no way i can let my mind wander like that when he’s giving me a massage. you nod your head in agreement, and lay on your back slowly, fidgeting with the ends of  your bathrobe so that you’re not totally exposed to him. gojo slowly hovers his hands over you and lightly touches your stomach, patting it to get your attention, but it causes you suck in a breath a bit too loudly. 

“gotta go on your stomach for me for this one,” he says, urging you to flip around. “gonna undo this, okay?” he tugs at the knot you made on your bathrobe and you nod. he slowly undoes it, and you feel exposed as your breasts peek out through the sides. you cross your legs almost immediately, feeling incredibly exposed in front of a fully clothed gojo. 

you quickly turn on your stomach before he has a chance to take in your body. you feel his cold fingers slowly expose your back, as he stops right before the hump of your ass. you hear him squeezing out some of the oil and warming it up in his hands as he gets to work on your back. 

you suck in a sharp breath between your teeth as his cold fingers explore the knots on your back. 

“cold isn’t it? you’ll get used to my fingers, promise,” he says sweetly, as he hits a spot on your back that’s been particularly bothering you as of late. it’s too late when you let out a moan, and you hear him chuckle. “hit the right spot, didn’t i?”

he continues to undo the knot on your back, and moan back a breathy affirmation as you continue to try (and fail) to hold back your noises. “f-fuck, gojo, that feels s-so good…” you say in between his movements. 

you feel his hot breath in your ear. “told ya to call me satoru, don’t forget it next time, princess.” this time, the nickname goes straight to your pussy. it’s hard to cross your legs when you’re on your stomach and feeling delirious with the pleasure that came from the pressure of his slender fingers. 

unbeknownst you, your soft moans are slowly making their way down to gojo’s member, as he gets harder by the second. he doesn’t want to make it so obvious just yet – he’s just getting start after all. he can’t just blow his load this close into the session, but you’re sure as hell giving him a run for his money. 

“feel good?” you moan in response. gojo slowly inches his fingers down closer and closer to your ass, until it reaches the hem of your bathrobe covering it. “gonna move this down so i can do your legs, yeah?”

gojo will admit, he was a bit too excited to see your ass as he removed your bathrobe down before you could give a proper “yes” but it didn’t matter when you’re soft breaths were giving him the answer he needed. it takes everything in him to not knead the rounds of your perfect ass (he swears your cheeks were made for his hands) and move straight to your calves. 

he slowly massages the soles of your feet and calves with the oil as he moves closer to your thighs, all while relishing in your sweet moans. once he’s at your thighs, the real fun begins. gojo knows this routine like the back of his hands. 

you hear him sigh in confusion. “is everything okay?” you turn your head slightly to see him. 

“sorry about this princess, but you’re gonna have to spread your legs a little bit for me. it’s hard to get every inch of you warmed up, otherwise.”

you obey him almost too easily, and shift your thighs so that there’s more room for him to touch with his fingers. gojo’s hands reach up to slightly cup your ass, before his thumbs slowly slide into your inner thigh, lightly massaging you.

your breaths are getting shallower and louder, and you pray he doesn't go any closer to your pussy so he doesn’t see how soaked you are. you’ve never had a massage like this before, but you also don’t want him to stop. 

gojo’s fingers play with the space of your inner thigh before he spreads you apart, exposing you. you breath catches in your throat, and he performs the next part of his act. 

“we’ve got a pretty unconventional way of massaging our clients, princess.” you hear his voice straining. “gotta make sure you’re relaxed everywhere, but you gotta let me take care of you. think you can do that? all you have to do is relax, and let daddy do everything for you.” you can hear the lust dripping from his voice, but to be honest, you couldn’t give a shit at this point. 

“y-yeah, please, satoru, whatever you want. please, i just…i just feel so good right now,” you say, your eyes shut tight, and your hips practically squirming under his touch. you think you might go insane if he doesn’t touch you there in the next second. 

hook, line, and sinker. who’s gojo to deny your request? he graduated top of his class at his cosmetology and esthetician university, after all. his fingers glide almost too easily between your folds as he starts playing with your throbbing core. he can feel how needy your pussy is for his hands as he spreads your slick all over your core. 

the pleasure immediately gets caught in the pillow that muffles your moans. fuck, so this is what all the reviews were talking about. you feel his fingertips dancing around your clit and you want to shout at him to pay attention to it. 

“s-satoru~ p-please…i need you right there…” you say in between your moans. 

“where? here?” gojo’s finger taps your clit lightly, and it makes your entire body twitch with pleasure. he has to press down on the small of your back to keep you place as his fingers rub circles around your bundle of nerves, making you whimper. you unconsciously grind your hips against his fingers, trying to get close to your release. 

“need a better angle. face down, ass up.” gojo commands, and your body conforms to his words. you prop your lower body up with your knees while your face is sideways against the head of the massage table. he uses this now better angle to really rub his fingers into your folds and bundle of nerves, sending electricity throughout your body. you feel the dam building up inside you and threatening to break. 

“satoru~ i’m-i’m getting c-close…ah~” you hands grip on to the sides of the massage table as you brace for the earth shattering orgasm to rip through you, and with gojo’s deft fingers, you’re on cloud nine in no time. 

your body slumps back down and your eyes roll back as the vibrations of your release still radiate through your body. you hear  your pulse pumping through your head as you try to catch you breath, but you feel gojo’s now warm hands flip you on your back, and his face inches from yours. 

“you took that so well, princess. we’re not done, yet. there’s still another part of your body that needs to warm up.” you don’t have time to process what he means as he inserts two fingers into his mouth and then deep inside your entrance. your gasp is muffled by his mouth connecting to yours, hard, teeth and all. his fingers are long, and they easily find your sensitive g-spot as they curl upwards and bully your internal bundle of nerves. it’s quite embarrassing how quickly you’re ready for another release, and how hungry your entrance was for his finger, practically sucking them in and clenching around them immediately. 

“f-fuck~ i’m about to-” you don’t get to finish your sentence, as another orgasm rips through your body. gojo kisses you again to block your moans, and your hands wrap around his neck to pull him even closer to you. he playfully bites on your lower lip as you ride out your release on his fingers. 

gojo’s kisses turn into soft quick pecks as your breathing steadies and your eyes can focus again. “we’re not done yet,” he teases, slowly taking his slick coated fingers out of you. 

you don’t even have the energy to respond back as he flips you on you back. through heavy eyes, you look back up at him, biting back a moan as he restarts rubbing circles on your extremely sensitive clit. he needs to take off his shirt and fuck you already. 

“need something?” gojo teases, sensing your neediness from just your eyes. 

“take off your shirt, dumbass.” you say through gritted teeth. 

“try again.” he presses harder on your clit, and you let out an unsanctioned yelp through your teeth. 

“f-fuck~ please take off your shirt, dumbass.”

he smiles. “well, if you insist…” he rolls his eyes, feigning inconvenience, but the slowly growing tent in his pants says otherwise. gojo unbuttons his shirt, revealing a perfectly sculpted torso. now this is just unfair. 

“geez, my eyes are up here.” he teases, smirking at you as you quickly meet his eyes and feel your face flush. he unbuckles his belt and you slowly sit up from the massage table. you’re overcome with the urge to touch him, everywhere. you hook your finger to the belt loop of his pants and pull him closer to you. 

gojo smirks as he wraps his arms around hips and leans down to kiss you deeply. you feel your core ache for his touch again as his tongue explores your mouth again. you trace his perfectly sculpted torso, the indents of his abs slightly sweaty to your touch. your hands slowly make their way to the zipper of his slacks, but gojo immediately grabs your wrist to stop you from taking them fully off. 

“not just yet…” he murmurs in between kisses. while his lips are still locked on you, he slowly pushes your body back on the massage table and starts kissing down your bare stomach, the measly bathrobe long since discarded somewhere on the floor. gojo leaves small wet kisses along your body until he reaches your inner thighs. 

you suck in a breath as you involuntarily spread your legs for him, earning an enthusiastic hum from gojo, who’s still continuing to leave a trail of kisses that are inching closer and closer to where you need his mouth to be the most. “p-please~” you moan, your eyes closed in bliss. 

“please what, princess? use your words,” gojo coos, coming face to face with your soaking wet core. he blows on the sensitive bundle of nerves, causing your legs to twitch.

you can’t stand his fucking teasing but you need to be eaten out, so bad. “f-fuck y-you, gojo~” you say, pushing your core up to his face, trying to aim for his mouth before he easily pushes your hips back on the table. you hear him tsk in disapproval, and tears welling up in your eyes in desperation. “please, your tongue…inside me…please~” you whimper weakly. 

“since you begged so nicely…” gojo says before he immediately plunges his tongue inside you, almost making you scream. his tongue expertly explores your folds and sucks on your clit, making you inadvertently grind on his face. “y’taste so delicious, princess,” he says between licks as he eats you out like it’s the last pussy on earth. 

his ministrations with his tongue has you teetering on the edge in record time, and you’re threatening to spill within minutes of him eating you out. as the third wave of pleasure washes over you, you don’t have the energy in you to ask for permission as you feel your body tingle in the aftermath of it. you think you made a mess all over the massage table and gojo’s face, but you don’t have it in you to care as your eyes roll back. 

you feel gojo unbuckle his belt and take off his slack and underwear, exposing his hard member in his hands. you can see the precum leaking out the tip as you weakly lean on your elbows to prop yourself up. 

“see, princess, all those questions did have a reason after all…” he says in between breaths as he strokes himself, looking at your naked glistening body. you spread your legs further in anticipation of feeling him. “but there you were, being such a fuckin’ brat about answering them…” gojo says, eyebrows furrowing as he brings his tip closer to your core and you bite your lip in anticipation. 

“guess you better fuck the attitude outta me, then?” you say, looking up at him through heavy lidded eyes filled with mindless lust. you don’t even care about the consequences or who hears or even if you get your facial – you just need him. every part of your body craved him. 

gojo wastes no time at your suggestion, his tip entering you as you let out a lecherous moan. you feel the initial pain of his larger than average member tearing your tight entrance apart, and bite back a moan. gojo grits his teeth as he lets out a steady throaty groan. 

“fuck, princess. so fuckin’ tight. sure you’re not a virgin?” 

“s’too much satoru, y-you’re huge…ahh~” 

“too bad, princess.” he says, surprising you as he starts thrusting agonizingly slowly into you, bottoming out and effectively reaching the sensitive spot inside you. pain slowly turns into pleasure as you indulge in the feeling of your g-spot getting kissed by his member – the spot that you can never reach by yourself using your own fingers.  

“f-faster, please~” you urge gojo, and he obliges almost immediately, quickening his pace. he bullies your sloppy and wet core, as he watches your titties bounce with every thrust. unlike most people his age, it’s times like this where gojo realizes he really fucking loves his job. 

he reaches out and gives your titties a rough squeeze while he remains unrelenting in his pace. he feels your pussy clench around him, and he knows you’re close, and if he’s being honest, so is he. but he cannot cum just yet, and definitely not before you do. gojo abandons your titties and slides down his fingers to your clit as he starts rubbing inelegant circles around it, getting you closer and closer to the edge. 

you feel the dam breaking once again as the combination of him rubbing and fucking you comes to a climax. the orgasm travels to every corner of your body, as you see stars in your vision while gojo fucks your brains out. you hold on to his shoulders to steady yourself. based on how sloppily gojo is getting, you can tell he’s about to get close, too. you’re about to brace for him to finish inside you, when he abruptly pulls out, earning him a confused look from you. 

“lay down,” he commands more than asks, as he hastily pushes your chest down on the massage table. your sweaty skin sticks to the faux leather, but you don’t pay attention as he moves to the side of your face, holding his soaked member near it. 

gojo starts stroking his throbbing leaking member sensually, and you innately open your mouth and stick your tongue out. so this is the facial? the dots connected in your head at the same time gojo’s ropes of warm cum decorated your face – chin, cheeks, mouth, and all. you hear gojo’s throaty groans as he finishes on you and make sure not a single drop that gets on or near mouth gets wasted, swallowing pridefully. 

gojo leans closer to your ear as he catches his breath from his climax. “that’s the milkbomb facial,” he says cheekily, and you can’t help but giggle. you both take a couple more seconds to catch your breath. you watch gojo as he puts on his pants and tucks in his shirt, looking like he didn’t just fuck the shit out of you. he runs his fingers through his hair quickly as he goes to the counter and pulls out a warm eucalyptus towel as he takes his time to gently wipe your face and body. 

“that was fun,” you murmur, looking at the ceiling, finally understanding what the reviews you read about this earlier place meant. you definitely came here, multiple times in one day for sure. 

gojo chuckles as he goes over to wash his hands and you notice his forearms are glistening with your release. “that’s why we’re the best spa out here, princess.”

you notice your legs shaking slightly, but you manage to hop off the massage table, slightly dazed. gojo notices and helps you get on your feet and put on your clothes. the entire activity is soft and gentle compared to how he was just a couple minutes before. 

everything that you both have done in the past hour finally dawns on you, and you suddenly feel very shy despite whatever the contrary happened on the massage table. it’s so awkward now, like, what do you guys even talk about now? does he do this to everyone? is this their entire schtick?

“do you…do this with all your clients?” you whisper to him as you follow him out into the hallway to the exit. you cross your hands tightly to your chest, as if it’s shrouding you from other people finding out what happened in the room behind you. 

“ah, i’m not one to kiss and tell.” gojo puts his hands in his pockets and glances back at you, giving you a quick wink as you follow behind him, trying to keep up with him as he turns corners.s

“oh, so you do do this everyone, huh?” you challenge, your shyness slowly melting away with gojo’s playful tone.. 

“did you enjoy it?”

a pause from you.. “yes.”

“then don’t worry about it, kitten.” gojo pauses before he opens the door and turns to you. “listen, i wouldn’t mind if you came here again for the tokyo special, you know. i’ll even give you a discount, too.” he says earnestly. 

you let out a giggle. “oh? a discount?”

“yeah, the tight pussy discount.”

“shut up!” you say, and you playfully smack his shoulder, and you both laugh. 

“so… is that a yes? i’ll see you next week?” 

you bite your lip. “maybe, i dunno.” you give him a wink before opening the door, and you both know fully well that you’ll be back on the massage table again in no time with gojo pounding into you. 

needless to say, gojo wasn’t lying when he said they were the best spa in town because by the time your sister’s wedding came around, your face was quite literally glowing. 

“wow! y/n – you’re just looking so radiant today! what’s your secret?” an auntie who’s name you cannot remember gleams, looking at you. 

you smirk, and try to hold back the heat from flushing your cheeks. “oh, just a really good facial,” you say. technically, you’re being honest, right?

“jesus, dude. is this all from skin care daddy?” nobara says, as the tenth person from the wedding compliments your skin. 

“you have no idea. they really know what they’re doing.” you say nonchalantly. you pull out your phone and text a recently saved number. 

you: got any slots for a tokyo special tomorrow?

within minutes you get a response: 

gojo: u know i do babygirl. btw a new guy just joined our spa. hope it’s cool sukuna joins to observe  😈

[afro-hispwriter]

A Betrayal No More(final)

Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen/Velaryon!reader

Summary- Aemond has been thrown into the dungeons just hours after your death, but the blacks need Aemond and Aemond needs you. 

Warnings- angst ending with fluff, mentions of torture, murder, battle of the gullet comes wayy faster than it actually does lol, dragon death

Part 3 of the Betrayal mini-series 1 2

Wc-3.3k+

-

Aemond was thrown into the dungeons along with Criston. They quickly found out that wasn't a wise idea since it ended up with Aemond almost choking the man out. 

He's not sure how long he'd been down there but he's been questioned a lot. But Criston on the other hand has been tortured, daily. He heard his screams of pain, and it made Aemond cringe. That man was the closest thing to a father he ever had but he was also the same man who killed the love of his life in front of him, however many days it's been since. 

Aemond thought they were going to starve him out but those thoughts were soon erased when Daemon Targaryen himself. His uncle, and father of his late love, came down and opened his cell door. Daemon glared harshly at his nephew, tightening his jaw and fist.

"Come boy." He demands but Aemond doesn't move, just sits there and looks at him wearily. "A hot bath and food has been prepared for you." Aemond cocks his head to the side before standing up.

"Preparing me for my execution?" 

"Every day I have the urge to come down here and cut your head off and send it to your family. But the queen says if it's true you are here to bend the knee, we need you." Daemon steps out of the way but Aemond still hesitates. "We don't have all day." 

"Hmm, lead the way." Aemond has only been to Dragon Stone maybe less than a handful of times. Daemon started his descent to the stairs with Aemond in tow. 

"Letting your daughter's killer out Daemon?" Gasps out Cristion making both men stop. 

"I guess you have gone mad Criston, you will never know freedom again." Daemon spits out and continued his way up the stairs. 

Aemond kept space between him and his uncle. There was still a chance this was all a trick and he was being led to his execution. But no. Daemon opened the door and the hot steam hit them both in the face. 

"Enjoy," Daemon says and Aemond walks through and Daemon shuts the door. A pretty servant girl appeared.

"Would you like assistance with bathing my prince?" She asks and Aemond shakes his head no. She nods and gives a bow before leaving. Once Aemond knew he was alone he started discarding the clothes he had on. He still had dried blood on his hands. Her blood. It made him sick to his stomach. 

Aemond settled into the water and sighed deeply. The warmth was very welcoming after being in a cold cell for days.

He wasn't sure how long he was in there but his fingers started to prune and the water started going cold. He scrubbed his skin quickly, dirt and mud from the cells had already turned the water dark and the blood made it worse.

His hair was a lost cause. He could wash out the gunk but it would be a frizzy mess. He stepped out of the bath cautiously and grabbed the towel. He dried himself off and the cold air made him shiver. His wet hair not helping so he tied it up in a low bun. 

The clothes given were a simple white tunic and a pair of pants, his boots from before would have to do. 

Aemond stepped out of the room refreshed. A guard in the hall came up to him.

"The Queen has asked for your presence." He says and Aemond gives a nod. They both walk to the map room where the other half of his family is. 

Baela noticed him first, she had a hard glare on her face. Rhaenys saw him but kept her face neutral, demoted of any emotion. Rhaena was absent. Luke and Rhaenyra stood together, while Jace stood off to the side fists clenched and fresh tear streaks on his face. 

Daemon's hand was tightly gripped on his sword. He also seemed to have taken a bath but his red fists were clear as day.

"We have a meal for you, brother," Rhaenyra says and Aemond says the plate of hot food with a cup of wine. He slowly walked down the steps, one by one until he was behind the chair. The smell enticed him so much, he pushed the chair back and sat in it. Digging into the food greedily. 

They watched him eat, everyone in that room had mixed emotions about him. Some found him guilty, some blamed him, others knew they needed him. 

"Vermithor was last confirmed to be seen crossing the Stepstones and there are reports they saw him carrying something." Aemond stopped eating at the mention of the dragon. 

"Any guesses as to where he is going?" 

"Valyria," Luke says and Aemond sees others in the room sigh or shake their heads. "Maybe Vermithor knows something we don't."

"He's never been to Valyria, none of our dragons have Luke," Jace says.

"But he's still a dragon, that's where his and our ancestors originated." 

"That doesn't explain why he would take Y/n there." Aemond snaps at the boy and Rhaenyra grabs Luke’s hand. "After this is done, I'm going to look for them." 

"What makes you think you're leaving?" Daemon asks and he takes a step closer Aemomd drops his spoon and sits back. 

"You have me and Vhagar now, you can have throne by lunch." Aemond took a bite of his food again.

"We kept you in the dungeons too long. Your grandfather has gotten the support of the Triacrhy and they attacked the Velaryon fleet at the Gullet. 

"You need me to sort it out?" Aemond asks and he downs the wine.

"You and Jace will fly out, using force only if necessary." Rhaenyra and Aemond cracked his knuckles and pushed the chair back.

"Let's go now." He started walking away, not knowing where he would go. But he didn't want to be there.

"Aemond stop," Rhaenyra says and he stops. "You must rest, Daemon is going to take Harrenhall." 

"I will rest when this is over." 

-

Your eyes shot open and the air rushed back into your lungs giving you a horrible spike of pain. You were rushed with cold then you were burning.

"You're okay Lady Y/n." The voice was loud but it was also so sweet and low. You looked around but you could only see the orange glow of fire and you were clearly in a rock structure. A soft pair of hands wrapped themselves around your back and they slowly helped you sit up. The cloth covering your breasts fell in your lap but you made no effort to grab it again. 

You turned your head slowly to meet with a woman. Her hazel eyes pierced through yours. Her dark hair was shining in the light. 

Your heart started racing and you felt across your body when you felt the scars. One look down and the flashes of the blade going in and out of your abdomen. You remembered the flooding of blood in your mouth and... Aemond.

"Ae-." Your voice barely came out, a tiny squeak at best.

"Rest your voice, my lady, your prince is safe." The woman says and walks away and bends down to grab something. She stands back up and she has clothes in her arms. "Your family needs you." She held her hand out to you and you shakily grab it. She helps you plant your feet on the cold floor and your legs shake, the last piece of cloth falling leaving you naked. "Hold onto the table." 

You slowly turned around and held onto the stone slab. Her hands touched your back and she rubbed her finger along the scars.

"They will heal nicely."

"H-How am I alive?" You ask lowly, she smiles behind you.

"Thank your dragon and the Lord of Light, my lady." 

-

You've heard of the Lord of Light, but you didn't believe in him. You didn't even believe in the Seven. But as you walked through the temple with Seraphine, the priestess who brought you back, this lord of light seemed to be even more real. 

Seraphine gave you a pair of pants and a black long tunic. Your hair burnt at the edges, ultimately damaging some of your hair. 

"Where is Vermithor?" You were still trying to find your voice.

"He has taken the liberty and made a home in a field feeding on cows." There were two guards standing post in front of the door. One nod from Seraphine and they opened the doors. The bright lights outside made you stumble. A servant of the temple appeared and he held a pouch of food and a canteen of water. “May I ask you something?” 

You nodded.

“What did you see when you passed?” She asks, almost desperately but keeping calm. 

“Nothing. I saw nothing.” You say and she lets out a quick sigh.

"May the Lord of Light guide you" Seraphine says. You took the pouch from the servant and nodded at them.

"Thank you." You say to both Seraphine and the servant, and maybe to R'hollor himself. 

-

Volantis, that is where you ended up. That is where Vermithor brought you, which confused you. Vermithor has no history of ever being near here, so how did he know to come here?

But the dragon wasn't a hard miss. He lay comfortably in the field. The people of Volantis had started huddling up and pointing at the beast. Some had never seen a dragon or it's been too long. You pushed past them and with one look at your hair and your approach to the dragon, they all backed off and whispered.

"Who is she?"

"Lady Y/n Targaryen? That is her dragon up there."

"But she's supposed to be dead, killed by her lover."

"That has to be Daemon Targaryens eldest."

Vermithor raised his head when he noticed you and raised it to his full height. He then lowered his neck so he could greet you. You reached up and the second you touched his warm, scaly skin you smiled. Smiled hard, you weren't sure how long you had been dead but it felt great.

"I am in debt to you." Vermithor gave a small growl of acknowledgment, the large dragon then showed you his neck so you had access to the ropes of his saddles. "Take me home."

-

Aemond stood in her bedroom. Memories of the two flooded him. The amount of times he has snuck in here and the times he almost got caught. Her bed was still made since the last time she was there.

It was hard to believe barley a week ago she was begging him to join her. Barley a week since he watched the life leave her eyes the next day.

"Daemon's taken Harrenhall." Jace's voice came from behind him. Aemond turned around to see his nephew in his riding gear and armor. Aemond walks towards him, hair swaying behind him to bump into the boy in front of him. Jace's fists clenched then he relaxed. "I know what your intentions are." Aemond stopped walking. "She wouldn't want you to do that, uncle."

"That is not of your concern, I will look for her regardless of where I am." 

-

Vhagar is the largest dragon alive. She is a hardened warrior. But that doesn't mean she isn't an easy target for ships, as her old age has made her slower and less agile. Her dragon fire is devastating but it won't do anything if she is shot out of the sky. 

Jace and Vermax focused more on the actual people on the ships rather than destroying the ships. Leaving that to Aemond and Vhagar.

Everything was going well until Aemond witnessed Vermax get caught in a grapple and yanked down. No doubt the dragon's death was immediate. Jace leapt off and crashed into the water and Aemond knew his nephew was in trouble. Vhagar dove and the men on the ships brought their crossbows out.

But before Aemond could yell the word 'Dracarys'. Another dragon swooped in under him and instantly laid waste to the ships. It forced Aemond to pull Vhagars reigns and urge her to stop.

Anyone familiar with any of the dragons can recognize the Bronze Fury. But Aemond was more than familiar with the Bronze Fury. Aemond leaned over Vhagar to catch a glimpse at the dragon flying below. 

The silver hair stood out against everything else. 

Aemond felt his heart skip multiple beats. He blocked out all the chaos, Vhagar maneuvering herself around spears. He is no longer worried about Jace. Aemond gripped the reigns and leaned forward.

"Pikagon(follow), Vhagar!" The dragon dipped down and followed behind Vermithor. Aemond was intent on getting a look at the rider. 

The combination of Vhagar and Vermithor fire destroyed the majority of the fleet. Less than 15 ships remained before white flags were waved and the retreat began. 

Aemond could barely focus, his sole attention on Vermithor. But then the dragon changed direction and flew away. Aemond, with no hesitation, followed. 

Vermithor Landed on a sandbank and Vhagar circled until she landed as well. The dragons stood opposite of each other. Aemond shakily made his way down until his boots hit the sand. The person on Vermithor made the same action. 

Aemond walked forward a few steps and he saw you. He saw you from that great distance. His legs were moving before he could register it. 

"Aemond!" He heard his name come from your voice and it spurred him faster. You had started running too, but Aemonds long legs had him reach you much quicker. You crashed into him but he held himself so he only stumbled. He grabbed your arms and looked at you. He looked you up and down. 

"H-How? I watched you die." Aemond's eye started to gloss and suddenly his eyepatch was growing irritating. You shakily brought your hands to his face and caressed his cheek with your thumb. 

"Vermithor took me to Volantis and a red priestess brought me back. The Lord of Light brought me back." 

For a moment Aemond believed he died and just hasn't realized it. But it all felt too real. 

"I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry." He pressed his forehead against yours and let the tears fall freely, the same tears falling from his other eye started to accumulate in his eyepatch. 

"It wasn't your fault."

"I should have just left with you the first time."

"There was no way we could have known, but I'm back, and hopefully for a long time." Aemond sucked in a sharp breath and stumbled backward. You grabbed his arms tightly and his knees buckled so he landed on them. You went down with him and wrapped your arms tightly around his shoulders.

Aemond laid the side of his head on your chest so he could feel and listen to your heartbeat. He takes continuous deep breaths and you cradle the back of his head. Your fingers then unbuckled his eyepatch and you tossed it into the sand. 

"Aemond." He looks up, his violet eye matching yours. The sapphire shining. "I'm here, I'm okay." He swallowed harshly and looked around. 

No enemies to be seen. Just your dragons on opposite sides of the sand bank and the burning of ships in the distance.

No one was there to take you away from him again. 

Aemond kisses you like he never did before. He wrapped his arms securely around your body and pulled you onto his lap. 

He grabbed at your clothes and pinched the material tightly. He kissed you as if his life depended on it. But it was all too much for you and you pulled pack. He pushed his face into your neck, his cold nose making you shudder. His thin lips pressed against your neck, followed by multiple pecks along the skin. 

"Aemond no." He now laid sloppy wet kisses. "I smell of dragon and death." 

"Don't care."

'Cough, Cough'

Aemond pushed you to the side and scrambled to his feet. Unsheathing his sword in the process.

Jace shook his hair and hacked up more salt water. 

"Jace." You whisper and scramble up but this time running to him. "Jace!" 

He looked up from the sand to see your figure and his eyebrows furrowed.

"Y/n?" You collapsed to your knees and pulled him in. "B-But you're- am I?"

"No, you're not. I'm here Jace, I'm alive." He was trying to take in the information but exhaustion came over him and he slumped in your arms. Aemond walked up behind you to inspect his nephew.

“We need to get him back to Dragonstone.” 

-

Word reached Daemon in Harrenhall as soon as possible when the Bronze Fury was seen at the Gullet. He was back on Caraxes immediately to fly out. Velaryon and Triarchy ships were still ablaze but no sight of any dragons. The next best place would be back to Dragonstone. 

And he was right. Daemon sees Vermithor being tended to by the dragon keepers. He landed Caraxes and walked in through one of the many entrances to the castle.

He passed servants on his way to the council room, helmet clenched in his fist. They stared at him or their eyes would widen at the sight of him. Two guards at the door pushed it open for him. Everyone’s eyes turned to him and they grew silent. 

His eyes couldn’t help but trickle over to the bundle of silver hair. Baela and Rhaena stood there hugging you. Daemon’s hand went weak and the helmet clattered to the ground loudly.

You split from your sisters and smiled at Daemon.

“Father.” Daemon didn’t move from his spot when you reached him. He grabbed you and pulled you in tightly. 

“I- how? When?” He wanted to ask so many questions but you shook your head. 

“I'm here, that's all that matters.” Daemon stayed silent and held you tighter. 

-

Criston’s execution was minutes after the reunion. Death by dragon. Baby dragons, juvenile dragons. It was a horrifying watch.

-

“Do you think the red god exists?” You ask Aemond as he gently drags his finger along the healing puncture marks. 

“There are many gods.” You lean against his chest, the water in the tub sloshing. 

“Have you read about this one?” 

“There isn’t much in the library.” He kissed the side of your head and you tilted your head back. 

“And there has never been a resurrection recorded.” Aemond tensed up. 

“We don’t even know if you were actually dead, you could have passed out and I simply missed it.” 

“You watched me die,  Aemond. You saw me dead.” Aemond rolled his head and shook it side to side. “I saw nothing, the whole time there was nothing. No dream, no god to take me someplace, none of our ancestors talked to me. It was just nothing.” You started to cry and grasped the edges of the tub. Aemond wrapped his arm securely around you and cradled you. 

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry.” 

It wasn’t until you stopped crying that you could speak clearly again. You stared at the candle, the fire flickering back and forth.

“Aemond?”

“Hmm.”

“I want to give my thanks to this, god.” Aemond sighed but pressed his cheek onto the top of your head. He refused to fight about something like this. 

“Whatever you need, I am here.” The rumble coming from his chest when he spoke was comforting. 

“Avy jorrāelan(I love you).” You say and kiss his bicep. “He is the one who brought me back to you.” 

-

A/n- holy fuck, two fucking years later lol

[nortonluv]

You've gotta hear me out on Ithaqua getting a little too possessive towards his survivor partner during a match ! Love your works btw <3

Mmmmmm Possessive Ithaqua 😍

Warnings: You'll never guess this one but Possessive behaviours

Pairing: Possessive! Ithaqua x Gn! Reader

--------

- He isn't sure what caused it. Maybe it's his own instincts telling him he needs to protect you, or maybe the manor is affecting him somehow..

- Your Team is quite possible the worst concotion of players to have paired with you. The Prospector, the cowboy and the "prisoner". He's semi-alright with Luca, he doesn't really do much harm. Its more a case of him being annoying to deal with on a good day.

- However Kevin and Norton strike Ithaqua the wrong way.

- He immediately finds Norton but instead turns his attention to finding you, just to make sure you stay away from them.

- He finds you. Quite easily actually. He comes across you helping Luca to decode who quickly runs off in favour of saving himself. Smart man, Ithaqua has to applaud him for using that mildly malfunctioning brain of his. He does have to break the connection, if only to delay your guaranteed escape.

- He lets you finish the cipher and simply stands around impatiently huffing and puffing to the side like a bratty child not getting enough attention. And that's accurate to a certain degree.

- once the cipher is done he tells you to go into a locker so he can pick you up and take you with him. You think nothing of it as this is fairly normal behaviour he likes to carry you around you've noticed. His little giggle when he picks you up just melted your heart.

- However. Unlike the usual routine, Ithaqua takes you to the nearest corner of the map and places you there before trapping you within his arms. His cloak making the two of you practically disappear, well.. you know as much as one can with the terror radius thing..

- His eyes are animalistic and his jaw clenched, but he makes no move to act on whatever violent act is forming in his head. Just pulls you to him as though he is trying to mesh with you.

- of course, he was mostly..., kind of, calm.

-Until the two idiots turned up. And by that I mean Norton and Kevin.

-Kevin lassoed you from Ithaqua's grasp, that alone made him screeched out in rage, but just to add some extra sourness to the situation, a magnet gets thrown towards him. Forcing him back into the wall.

- You struggle your way out of Kevins hold and push him away right as Ithaqua dashes at him. Norton quickly runs off to possibly hide in case he needs to really save, or possibly help Luca to continue saving.

- "IDIOTS, BOTH OF YOU!" You yell out to nobody in particular as Kevin had already run off. Ithaqua stays still for a moment, left eye twitching.

- He turns quickly. "Stay." He commands as though you are a dog awaiting your next trick. You're going to stay near, obviously, just maybe that Cipher off to the left will somehow get finished off...

- He dashes away in the direction Kevin left.

- As you're decoding, the prospector returns around the corner.

"Hey."

"Fuck off. That was stupid and you know it."

"Yeaaah.. but got the reaction I wanted. He's a tad bit, whats the word, protective? No. Possessive. Thats the one! Like he owns you."

"If he ever got asked if he owned me he definitely would answer like that.. It's a bit much at times, maybe next time to come running up to try and save when he's clearly not going to chair me. Luckily he seems to have lost Kevin."

The last Cipher gets completed by you and Norton but just before you can run to the exit, Norton says something that irks you.

"Geez, I didn't ask for your life story.. no need to keep going on..."

Yoou dont even initially intend to do it but you're hand reaches out to slam his head against the nearest wall to temporarily stun him.

"Not so fun now is it.."

In the distance a pissed off roar can be heard from Ithaqua, who you can assume just missed hitting the now escaped Kevin and Luca.

"Now, we're gonna surrender." You tell the prospector sternly

"Why would I do tha-"

You grab his ear and stare at him, "Consider it your apology to Itha. Believe me Kevin's going to deal with far worse."

Quiet grumbles are all that are heard from the disgruntled ex-miner.

----

Hope you enjoyed :) I partially forgot what I was writing halfway through but I loved writing this ♡

[sitaraa--writes]

Making Her Mine

Summary: Rebekah compels Elena to reveal her feelings for you and now your trust is betrayed. Rebekah seizes this opportunity to warm up to you as she has always found you attractive. Hanging out with her escalates to a make-out session as you relish your newfound feelings for her...

Smut, angst, a lil' bit of fluff

Elena cheating on the reader, Elena slander

3K

A/N: This is the first time I've published smut. I hope it's fine (I know it's horrible) otherwise just forget this happened... do let me know if you liked it. Happy reading!

Rebekah Mikaelson X Fem!Reader

Rebekah was dragging Stefan by the arm to the high school library and you trailed behind them, compelled to do as the Original said.

Elena, your girlfriend of two years, gasps and stands up at your arrival. "Stefan, Y/N..."

You shot her a confused look, not understanding why was she so shocked.

Rebekah shot at the brunette. "Did I say you could move?" Elena shot her an exasperated look as she slowly sat down and you moved to sit near her.

She circled you people and spoke loudly in her accented voice. "Class is in session. You know the rules. Answer my questions honestly. No disobedience, no one leaves. April, my sweet, take notes. That's how you get answers in this town."

Her gaze lingered on you, which made you feel nervous and fidgety. Sure, you didn't show it, but she was a thousand-year-old vampire who could kill you in the blink of an eye, who was currently eyeing you like a predator would do to its prey. "In the year 1114, my brother learned, thanks to yours truly, about a brother of vampire hunters with tattoos that grew with each kill. These tattoos revealed what, Elena?"

"A map" your girlfriend answered, looking down. "Which led to... Caroline?"

"A cure for vampirism."

"Perfect. So we're all caught up. Stefan Salvatore, the last time we saw each other, you had a vampire hunter. But in order to decode the map, you need the location of the hunter’s sword, which you got out of me by using some very dirty tricks. Assuming you found the sword, you also found the cure… and you’re all still vampires. Something went wrong."

She looked at April. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, you asked me to take notes."

Rebekah sighed. "Oh, I wasn't being literal, darling. But now that you mention it, a flow chart would be nice. Which means index cards and push pins. Go fetch." The teen left.

At that very moment, the blonde Original appeared oh-so-tempting to you. The way she exercised control over all of you made you feel hot all over. It has happened quite a few times before. But you were with Elena and you had no tolerance for cheaters. There was just something about Rebekah that has always piqued your interest, but then again, loyalty was the most important thing for you. No one else but Elena had a place in your heart all this time.

Stefan grew irritated and straightened up. "You're wasting your time. We don't know anything."

"So you just gave up? I thought you'd do anything to save Elena. Y/N?"

Suddenly, all eyes in the room stared at you. The tension was so thick, you though a chainsaw was needed to cut through it. You sensed something bad and grew antsy under their collective gazes. "Why are you all staring?"

No answer. "Guys...?"

Rebekah spoke again. "I'm missing something. What is it?"

No one spoke. "I asked you what happened. You have to tell me."

Finally, the younger Salvatore brother spoke. "Elena slept with Damon."

You whipped your head around to look at the mentioned brunette. Hot, white rage was all you felt thrumming in your veins. You were known for your calm demeanor and excellent control over anger, but it was getting really difficult not to claw the doppelganger's eyes out. "What is the meaning of this?!"

The doe-eyed Gilbert just looked down and spoke nothing. She knew how much your relationship meant to you. She knew that once your trust is betrayed, it's over. She knew that loyalty was the most important thing in the entire world to you. And yet she chose to disrespect you. It made you feel so pathetic. Another victim of the Petrova charm putty in the doppelganger's paws. What a bitch. Your eyes burned with hot tears, threatening to fall down. Your throat choked and tightened, making it impossible for you to say another word. No. You thought. You wouldn't shed your tears for a cheater. Tears are so precious; blood flows from the body, tears flow from the soul. Never in your entire life you had felt so insulted and betrayed. I am going to ruin them, you thought. No, I mustn't waste a moment of my life on these worthless assholes. You decided the latter was a better option. No one was as crafty and cruel as you when it came to revenge. You would be consumed by the fire of vengeance. God, you thought you sounded like you were going on a bloodbath. But that's the dark beauty of you...

You subtly took a deep breath and leaned back, your face a stone-cold mask in which even the most observant couldn't find a crack. You felt Rebekah's searing gaze in your bones. And in some way, it made you feel safe. And damn you when you didn't know why...

"So vampire Elena is a trollop who likes bad boys, but it doesn’t explain why sweet, loving, innocent Elena could be so heartless towards Y/N. How could she hurt her like that? Answer, please." The Original said, looking at Stefan.

He sighed as he spoke. "She didn't know it at the time, but she was sired to Damon."

Rebekah smirked. "A sire bond? That’s fascinating. And what do you think about that, Elena?"

Elena spat at her, "I think you’re sad. And bored. And in desperate need of a hobby."

It angered but didn't deter the blonde. She compelled the Gilbert. "You're hiding something. Fess up."

"I didn’t sleep with Damon because I’m sired. I slept with him because I’m in love with him," she spoke in such a way as if she were proud of what she'd done. That was the last straw.

"Fuck you." You spat with so much hatred and venom, that no more words were needed to convey the message: we're over. Then you spun on your heel and stormed out, carrying a kaleidoscope of emotions and the weight of Rebekah's lingering gaze.

You didn't know it at the moment, but you and Elena breaking up might just be the best thing that has happened to the Mikaelson...

It was nearly midnight, and you were at your house alone. You ate an entire tub of vanilla ice-cream, and now you were feeling guilty about it. You could have downed that bottle of Jack and Daniel hidden in your closet, but you decided you were not going to surrender to Damon's coping mechanisms.

Your room looked like a lowkey brothel, complete with silk sheets, roses, scented candles, and dim lighting. Hell, you were dressed in flimsy lace pyjamas, finding them extremely comfortable. But in your taste, it was a much-deserved self-care session.

Flipping through the pages of an erotic novel for the past hour, you got bored. It was so smutty, all the protagonists seemed to do was have sex. You grew irritated, your sex life was in shambles.

Suddenly, the bell rang. At this odd hour, you thought it would be Caroline stopping by with some ridiculously expensive cosmetics for a girl's night in, a not-so-subtle attempt of hers to comfort you. You might've hated Caroline at the moment for keeping Elena's secret, but you guessed you could live with it.

Every pore of your being protested when you rose, wrapped your robe around yourself and climbed down the stairs to open the door. The last person you were expecting to show up on your door was Rebekah Mikaelson.

Your heart skipped a beat. She looked so hot. Like get on your knees right now hot in those tight jeans and spaghetti top. For the first time ever, you could admire her classic, almost divine, beauty without any inhibitions or restrictions. For the first time, you really seemed to take her in. And gods, she was a sight for sore eyes. And damn you for wanting to bite that red lip and tear off her clothes.

You snapped out of it when she smirked. The look in her eyes made you weak in the knees. You knew that she knew of the effect she had over you.

You cleared your throat. "Rebekah, was an entirely unexpected surprise. How can I help you?"

She smiled. "Well, for starters, you could invite me inside..."

You knew it was dangerous. But you were so desperately praying for something to happen. You didn't care about the consequences. You wanted her so bad, you felt it in your bones, the desire running deep in your veins.

"Alright, would you like to come in?"

She looked surprised for a moment that you gave in so easily. But then she smiled wide and said, "I would love to." Then she stepped inside. Your heart hammered crazily in anticipation.

"Where shall I keep these?" She asked, holding up her arms. Then you noticed that she had a couple of bags looped in her arms. "I brought wine and something to munch."

You softened. "Oh, you didn't need to..."

"Oh, of course I do." She smiled softly.

You helped her with the bags to the kitchen. "Rebekah, this is a lot..." you began but she waved you off. You couldn't believe that an Original vampire was in your house in the middle of the night, who brought very costly wine and snacks to last an entire month. The blonde standing in front of you was the supposed nemesis of your friends, but what happened today was your defense.

"But why?"

"Well, that doppelganger bitch hurt you, and I was the one who meddled and you found out like this. So I guess I owed you one."

"No, no! I owe you one. I probably wouldn't have known for a longer period of time and that would've been so pathetic."

"Still... well, I hate her and you do too. So I thought that it's not such a bad idea to bond over our mutual loathing for her and maybe plot our revenge?" She said with that cute little smirk, making me laugh.

"Do you want to watch a movie?"

"Nothing cheesy."

"You think so? Elena ought to be the cheesiest girlfriend ever."

She rolled her eyes. "Thought so,".

"Come on,"

You guided her upstairs to your bedroom, and you were really, really nervous. Your heart was beating so loudly that you knew all too well that she could hear it.

Rebekah was in a frenzy of lust and excitement. She'd dreamt of this a little too many times and now it was real. You were the loveliest creature she'd ever encountered and she thought that you were really strong, funny and protective. And she really seemed to enjoy the not-so-decent outfit you were clad in.

The blonde glanced around your room and smirked in an almost-appreciative way. You felt a bit embarrassed about your clothes and your room, but hey, we all have those moments.

You put on a thriller on your laptop as you both sat comfortably on your post bed, with a huge bowl of chips to snack on.

About an hour must have passed in comfortable silence, and your dirty thoughts were put to rest for a while too as you focused on the complex plot of the movie. Then your patience was about to be tested.

An intimate scene was displayed on the screen and you froze. You became antsy as your thighs came in contact with Rebekah's hand. The tension in the room could be cut through with a knife. Your unbridled lust and roaring desire for her was consuming you and you couldn't control yourself as you turned to face her.

She was thinking the same thing as you and your lips collided. Your tongues fought for dominance as you explored every corner of her mouth, her doing the same.

It was a passionate, rough, and all-consuming kiss that had you moaning in her mouth and both of you had your eyes closed in bliss. She cupped your face while your hands tangled themselves in her golden locks.

It was so exhilarating, and you had just kissed... you were almost scared to know where the night would lead you.

Your lungs burned for oxygen but kissing her seemed the best way to die. Finally, you parted, gasping for air.

"That was..." you began, panting.

"Amazing," she finished, holding your eyes. You leaned in for another kiss, but she beat you to it. You kissed her senseless and your hands seemed to have a mind of their own as you began undressing her. Kissing her was your new favourite thing to do.

Her lips moulded perfectly into yours. The purpose of your life was to be hers, and at that very moment, everything was forgotten. She followed your actions and undid the flimsy lace and pushed you down, making you lie down.

The two of you were completely bare as your eyes met. You could drown and die in the blue ocean of her eyes. It was like being reborn. Her eyes held a challenge, promised an adventure and you reveled in the anticipation, the thrill and in her amorousness.

She raked her eyes all over your body and your every pore, every limb shook in bliss and ecstasy. "Damn, you're gorgeous..."

You smiled in satisfaction at her words and pulled her down to mesh your lips together.

Her lips slowly moved down to your neck, kissing and biting, leaving a trail of love bites all over. Lewd, wet sounds filled your ears as you flushed. She was a heady mixture. Slowly, very slowly, she moved down to the little dent at the base of your neck, then placed ticklish, feather-light kisses on your prominent collarbone. She kissed and licked through the valley of your breasts, down to your navel and your sensitive lower stomach.

She placed kisses along your waistline, making you gasp and moan into the silk-covered pillows. Your toes curled in pleasure when you felt her hot breath fanning over your womanhood. She had barely begun and you were already dripping wet.

The blonde moved down to kiss your inner thighs. So close but not giving you what you want.

"Rebekah, please..." you pleaded with her. Her eyes were a mixture of lust and amusement. "Please what?"

"Touch me!"

"Where?" She was such a tease. You grew frustrated and you grabbed her hand and guided it between your parted thighs. A loud, throaty gasp escaped your mouth as her fingers worked their magic upon your wet, slippery folds. You almost tore the sheets your fingers were gripping and you buried your face into the pillows to muffle your moans. But you decided against it. You wanted her to hear you. You wanted her to know just how good she was making you feel. Your body was so responsive to her touches .

Just then, her fingers hit that spot and you cried out in pure pleasure. You felt the pleasure building up and the sounds leaving your mouth resonated in every nook and corner of your house.

"Do you want me to stop?" she questioned innocently, but you knew all too well. "Shut up," you barely managed to say between your uncontrollable moans.

You wanted to tell her that you were going to reach your release, but the pleasure was too much and all you could think about was how good she was.

You started shaking and almost screaming as you reached your precipice. You quite literally saw stars as you came. Rebekah's gaze upon you was that of pure worship as she licked her fingers which were coated with your arousal. Then she leaned in to kiss you deeply and you could taste yourself on her lips. "You're so pretty..." she whispered, almost as if in a daze. You smiled and grabbed her my the arms, helping her lie down.

"My turn now," you spoke, aspiring to make her feel as good as she made you feel. You pulled her in for another searing kiss as you parted her thighs. Moving down, you maintained eye contact as you stuck out your tongue and tasted her. You'd never heard anything sexier than the gasp that left her lips when you did.

Soon, your tongue circled and lapped over her folds. Her throaty moans were music to your ears. You pulled back just when she was about to reach her high, deciding to use your fingers. Her sweet moans might as well would've been heard by the neighbours as you pleasured her all night long and to the breaking of dawn.

You both lay bare barring the sheet covering you as you watched the sun rise. To you, it felt surreal and as if it were a dream.

"I've wanted this for so long," Rebekah softly confessed. "When I met you first, I thought you were really pretty, like a royal. Your wit and wordplay is unmatched. I love how strong you are, how you don't need anyone to fight for yourself and how you're so ambitious. But you were with Elena and-" you silenced her with a kiss.

"You've no idea for how long I've wanted this too. But I'm afraid that with the arrival of the dawn, I'd wake up and all of this would be nothing but a dream." You spoke softly.

"Trust me, your screams last night were very real,"

You laughed as you kissed her. She pulled you into her arms for another round. And sure enough, the hickeys covering you were very real...