#Of course for totally noble reasons | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

juletheghoul · 6 months ago

Text

greedy

a/n: I cannot be stopped at this point, this man brings out the WHORE in me and I have happily accepted my fate lol. This is un beta-ed, any mistakes are my own. Shout out to @foli-vora for being a constant source of love and support and for contributing so much to this world, thanks my love! 🩷Hopefully you enjoy!

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, Marcus being a total glutton for your greed over him, creampie, heavy possessive feelings from you because lets be REAL, master / slave dynamic (power imbalance), Marcus calls reader Girl, reader calls Marcus Dominus, let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 2.4k

reblogs are appreciated

Prev chapter Masterlist series masterlist

His house was in order, and that was mostly thanks to you.

Since your return to Rome, and the villa, he has been busy. Mostly, it’s been a parade of high ranking officials, members of the noble families making their pilgrimage to pay homage to the ‘Saviour of Rome’.

He despised it.

With all of the ferocity within him, he despised it. You could see it in his visage, in the clench in his jaw when they’d come to call. The way the normally confident expression in his eyes, faltered and focused on his sandaled feet. If he hadn’t been the person he was, you might have laughed. But he was, and so you didn’t.

After a few weeks it inevitably died down, and the whole house seemed to take a deep breath, it wasn’t to last though. Just as the air seems to settle, someone comes calling, someone very important.

“Lavinia–” She is a true beauty, of high Roman birth and the daughter to one of the most influential men in Rome, just a step below the Emperor himself. “You honour me…” He is at a loss for words as she floats into the halls of his house. His eyes find yours but you don’t need him to say a word, within a moment you’re flitting towards the other attendants, and within the span of a few breaths, his table is laid out with enough food and wine to impress even one as fine as her.

“I have caught you unawares have I not?” She giggles and the sound is almost calculated to ensnare, the jewels at her throat and dangling from her ears glinting almost as brightly as her eyes “I am glad to see I am not vying with anyone else for your attention, I wanted you all to myself this day.” He leads her to his table, and sends everyone out of the room but you.

“Yes, well.” He clears his throat, and already you can feel him closing up, hiding behind his mask of courtesy. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

You stand behind his chair at the ready, and watch her cast her spell on him, silently.

“Does one such as me need a reason to visit with you General Marcus? Surely with your victory you’d have a steady parade of young, quite available women marching through your halls, fighting tooth and nail to catch your eye.” She shook out her long blonde waves, subtly, but not so subtly angling herself in the most flattering way. “You are unmarried and unattached as of yet, all of Rome knows it.” She bites her lip, appealing to him in the way beautiful women always appeal to men and it shocks you to feel the unfamiliar stab of anger in your belly.

He grunted, noncommittally.

“I have come to…speak of such things.” She stretched towards him like a cat, picking a grape from the platters on the table, and nibbling at it softly, her lips the colour of ripe pomegranates. “If you would care to hear them, of course.”

He has no interest in marriage, he cares too much for his time alone, he will tell you to leave–

“I will, of course, listen to whatever you have to say, Lavinia.” If you hadn’t been as experienced with him, you would have gasped. Instead, you stood there, trying with all your might to keep the shock off your face, and the tremble out of your hands. “Wine.” He spoke the word clearly, and it pulled you out of your shocked anger behind him. With a practiced hand, you poured for him, and then moved quickly to pour for her.

You don’t catch his eye, but you feel it on you, no doubt noting the furrow in your brow, tracking you, as you make your way back to your place behind him. You let go of a deep, steadying breath and for a moment you could swear on all of the Gods you see him smile over his shoulder. In the blink of an eye, it’s gone.

“Let us speak of them then.” She claps her hands together happily, “My father would have come to speak to you sooner or later, but I thought it best to test the waters myself, without the scrutiny of his eye.” She leans towards him again, elbows on his table, holding her delicate face in her hands and even you have to admit, it’s masterful. The jewels on her fingers only enhance the hue of her eyes. She takes advantage of the cut of her dress, the calculated pieces of flesh she has on display, and how cunningly she uses them is something to behold. You look down at the simple tunic you wear, the uniform of your station and all at once, you feel beneath her, beneath everyone.

“And what would your father have to say to me, I believe you are more than capable of making a case for yourself. You strike me as the sort of woman that gets what she wants.” His tone is different, he sounds almost interested and it’s a dagger through your heart.

Steel yourself, you are nothing but a slave, no matter how many times he buries himself inside you. You are what’s available, until he finds another, equal to him.

She giggles, tickled, but unsurprised that he seems to be responding to her charms.

“I do get what I want, in the end.” She smiles, and it is truly lovely, “and what I want is you.”

“Shall I fetch more wine Dominus?” You step beside him, whispering with a tremble in your voice, hoping, wishing, praying to all of the Gods that he’ll spare you from this torment.

“No.” A soft word, and your stomach turns. You step back silently. “I am surprised you have come to me, I am sure there are armies of men ready to fight to the death for you, why am I the one you want”

“Oh come now Marcus, you have just led our army in a great victory, the streets cry out your name, the Emperor himself has thanked you for your service, you are the most desired man in all of Rome, you know this.” She brushes his question off, “I can raise you up higher still, to the very halls of the Senate, should you wish it.”

“The Senate? And what would I do in the Senate? I am no politician, I am quite content where I am.” He smiles for her benefit, and you do your best to remain impartial, and invisible.

Unfeeling. Unmoving.

“It is an option, should you want it.” She reiterates, “Now, what do you say of this match? What are your thoughts?” She picks more food off the plates, completely confident.

“I will say this, you honour me greatly,” She smiles, licking at the tips of her delicate fingers, “It is a lot to consider, and I would be grateful if I could have some time to think, send you word of my final decision once I’ve had time to settle back into civilian life.” He bows his head to her and she responds in kind, seemingly pleased with his response.

She stays longer than the others, and he entertains her to her heart's content, sharing the less violent stories from the war he’d just won and letting her have her fill of his food and hospitality, and you stand behind him. Listening to it all. Until she grows tired and tells him she must depart.

“I look forward to hearing your answer, don’t make me wait too long.” She smiles, pressing forward and kissing his cheeks boldly.

“It was lovely to see you, please give your father my greetings. Be safe.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, the air in the room felt thin and for a moment, your thoughts clouded your awareness.

“You are angry.” His voice cuts through your reverie, making you jump where you stand at his table, setting it to rights.

“Dominus?”

“Speak plainly, girl. You are displeased with Lavinia coming here, offering herself to me.” He stares at you, his eyebrow raised from his place on his favoured chair.

“I, I have no cause, no reason–” You stumble over your words, wringing your hands to stay obedient.

“Yes you do. She comes into this house, this house that has been your home for a long time, and asks to make it her own. She would be your Domina, and that angers you.” He speaks with a smile in his voice, his eyes shining with the novelty of your misplaced, and maybe grossly inappropriate anger.

“I, Dominus–your will is my will, whatever you command–” He raises his hand and for a moment you see a flicker of anger.

“Speak truthfully now, girl. I see the rage on your face. I feel it in your gaze. I will hear the truth, tell me how you feel.” He narrows his eyes for a moment, and you know he wants to hear the truth.

“I hate it.” You let go of a deep breath, steadying yourself for the wrath of insolence but it never comes, instead, he smiles.

“I would hear your reasons.”

“I–I would not have her come here. I would not have her marry you. I have no wish to call her Domina or have her order me away from you. I… I would keep you all to myself,” his smile widens, “Dominus.”

He gestures for you to come closer, and you do, until you stand before him.

“Would you now?” You stand in the space between his legs, watching the way his eyes dilate to hear you speak of keeping him.

“Yes Dominus, I would have you all to myself, I would not have her keeping your bed warm.” You seethe at the thought of it, to hear him having her, the way he has you makes your blood boil and he smiles bigger still, his eyes crinkling with the mirth of it.

“Tell me, my fearsome girl, how greedy you are that you cannot share your Dominus with another.” His hands slide up the backs of your legs, slipping up to cup your backside while your hands land onto his shoulders.

“I am greedy, I cannot share you Dominus, I will not.” You press yourself closer to him, your fingers threading through his graying curls. “I could not bear to hear you with her.”

“Hmm. You want my cock all for your own, is that it? Only you are fit for the gift of my seed? Tell me.” He pulls your tunic up, and off, stripping you of everything until you stand bare before him. “Only you, and this sweet little cunt, hm? Is that the way of it?” He presses kisses to your belly as he speaks and all at once the anger is gone and replaced with a hunger that only he can satisfy.

“Yes Dominus, only me-” You pull his face up and claim his mouth, moaning into it at the feeling of his hand cupping your sex.

“Take it then, girl, take what so clearly belongs to you, what you would keep all to yourself.”

You waste no time in stripping him bare, relishing to see the way his cock stands at attention for you, and not for the other woman. You ache at the sight of it, the proof of your desire for him dripping onto your thighs in your haste to mount him and when you finally feel him notch his cock at the mouth of your cunt, you practically drop yourself onto it.

He groans to feel the way you clench around him, the two of you breathing heavily into each other's faces, adjusting to the way his cock seems to kiss your womb.

“Is this what you wanted, girl?” He bucks up underneath you, and your breasts bounce in his face, mesmerizing him enough to make him do it again. “To claim me like this? Tell me–is this cock yours? Am I yours?” He bounces you again and it’s hard to focus on anything but the fullness of him, the way you feel the pleasure of it lights up every nerve in your body.

“Yes, yes Dominus, mine–” Your fingers grasp his hair tightly and with every flex of his hips, you roll yours, grinding the pleasure center of your universe against the coarse hairs at the base of his sex. “Your cock is mine, only mine.” he lets out a filthy moan to hear it, and your nipples harden.

“It is yours, take it, Gods, take it all–” He cannot seem to control himself, quicker and quicker he flexes, until your arousal drenches his lap and the sounds between your legs are wet and obscene.

“Harder please Dominus, I want it harder–” You hold onto his shoulders, rolling your hips faster and within a moment, he moves forward, placing you on the plush carpet at his feet. Once on the floor, his hips piston and the sounds of your coupling ring out through the room.

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, your legs seizing up on his hips, and pulling a scream from your throat. He groans, feeling the way you squeeze around him, the force of your climax milking his cock dry.

“God's girl, you have knocked the wind from me.” He breathes hard in your ear, pressing his lips to your mouth before moving his kisses down your throat, peppering them across your chest. His tongue licks at one nipple, then the other, making you flutter around him.

A few moments pass, and although you are comforted by his weight, you don’t want to overstep. He forestalls you though.

“Come girl, I would have this place set to rights, and retire to bed.” He pulls out with a hiss, moving up and away, “I would have you tell me of your anger, in depth, in my chambers.” He holds out his hand to help you up, and you take it with a smile.

----

Tag list: @frannyzooey @greeneyedblondie44 @lola4pedro @ezrasbirdie @221bshrlocked @artsymaddie @supernaturalgirl20 @sleep-tight1 @sherala007 @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs @maxwell--lord @the-feckless-wonder @kirsteng42 @thisshipwillsail316 @feministfanboi @stevie75 @readsalot73 @pedrostories @tobealostwanderer @mandocrasis @elegantduckturtle @diogodxlot @alczysz17 @evyiione @absurdthirst @beskarboobs @andruxx @littlemissoblivious @1800-fight-me @maievdenoir @gracie7209 @omlwhatamidoinghere @magikfanatic @frankiecatfish @pedritoispunk @studythoreauly @missswriter @pintsizemama @mswarriorbabe80 @a-trial-run-on-paper @la-le-lu @chickadee-djarin @dobbyjen @rosiefridayrogersunday @ajeff855 @johnsrevelation @the-witty-pen-name @zombiesnips-blog @sarahjkl82-blog @fan-of-encouragement @queenofthecloudss @deadhumourist @felicisimor @toomanystoriessolittletime @what-iwish-you-knew @pedrostories @athalien @bi-thewayy @literallydontlook @pedrosbrat @gamingaquarius @localddreamers @luxmundee @iamafadedmoon @nakhudanyx @littlemisspascal @grogusmum @recklessworry @heyitmelexie @killyspinacoladas @gothicxbarbie @evildxad @dragonslarimar @spideysimpossiblegirl @chemtrail-mix @breezythesimp @altarsw @artooies-scream @staygolddindjarin @softsweetedbeauty @littlemisspascal @yuiopiklmn @squidwell @just-blogging-around @bbyanarchist @girlofchaos @maddiedrmr @frasmotic @acourtofsnakes @buckybarneshairpullingkink @astoryisaloveaffair @harriedandharassed @shirks-all-responsibilities @androah @alwaysachorusgirl @dindjarinsmut @captain-jebi @gallowsjoker @tusk89 @dadbodfanatic-x @naiomiwinchester @blazedprince @avidreader73 @mr-underhills-things @avengersfan25 @tastygoldentaters @nyotamalfoy @mymindfuckery @its-nebuleuse @missladym1981 @inept-the-magnificent @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @ladyofmidlo72 @greenvita

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #marcus acacius #general marcus acacius #general acacius #gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #marcus acacius x female reader #gladiator 2 fanfiction #marcus acacius x reader #marcus acacius x you #marcus acacius smut #marcus acacius x y/n #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader

871 notes · View notes

kneelingshadowsalome · 2 years ago

Note

Hi !!!! I’m sorry if this is bothering you and if so you can totally ignore this but…

I’ve been thinking about how Ghost would react to reader gradually pulling away from him because she gained some weight and is self conscious and ashamed and doesn’t want to be seen by him, so sculpted and beautiful… but of course he’s feeling low because he wants to be close to reader and so he asks and she finally explains it to him (ready to be broken up with…)…. And I’d love to read your take on it !

You can make it female or gender neauteal I don’t really care !!!! Thank you anyway ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Wildflowers Grow in Ruins

(Ghost x F!Reader, word count: 5 k)

Summary: Reader tries to break up with Ghost because she thinks she's not good enough for him.

Tags/warnings: FLUFF, soft sensual smut 🔞, hurt/comfort, light angst, Jealous!Ghost, Soft!Ghost, self-loathing & self-body shaming. Good girl talk/praise kink. Reader is female and wears a skirt for smut plot purposes.

A/N: I hope you like this take & I hope you don't mind that I tweaked this request just a little bit!) Also: JFC I'm wordy. The "I need to explain why they're fucking!" meme comes to mind every time I write anything.

Wars are exhausting.

You know fighting for something can empower people. Fighting against something usually just depletes your strength.

But waging a war against yourself…

Now that is pure hell.

It started somewhere in your youth. You thought adulthood would take it away; that reason and tolerance would take it away. You were supposed to feel more confident in yourself, more positive about life. And for a moment, you thought you might just succeed.

But standing beside a god of war is no easy feat.

He came into your life like a walking myth, swept you away, and you only laughed as you went. It was fun at first. He was supposed to be your savior, the solution to all your problems. If a man like him found you attractive, perhaps it was the world that was crooked and not you.

But then you got soft: you started to gain pounds. Meanwhile, he became even more magnificent. It reminded you that it had all been just a dream.

Perhaps it was his eyes that seemed to worship you, that seemed to look past your every flaw. Perhaps it was the hands which never seemed to get enough of your skin. Whatever it was, it was too much. And at the same time, never enough.

The day has finally come to let him go.

You think yourself heroic. It's like it should be: it's only right that you finally release him to someone better than you.

But inside, the noble feelings twist and turn and curl around your throat and stuff your stomach full of ice - the kind they fill glasses of mojito with. The drink you'll always remember him by because he teased you about it: that you wanted an ice-cold summer drink even in the middle of winter.

Now you feel cold all over, and wish he could warm you like he used to.

You would forsake all the mojitos of the world to keep him. You would renounce the whole drink if it came to that; if you could make him yours.

But he's not yours. He never was: he was just on loan to give you a taste of what it would be like to have a man like him. That taste should be more than enough for a lifetime. You should feel grateful.

So why is it so hard to let go?

The key on the front door turns, and your heart shoots up your throat: you're supposed to settle this thing once and for all. You're supposed to let go of him today.

And still, when he arrives, you can't find the courage to say what you need to say. The words are stuck in your throat, but tears are not. He should already be a memory, but you find yourself suffocating on memories as you cry. You've learned to do even that in silence, like the rest of your suffering.

You take a few deep breaths, wipe the tears away, shove the rest of them down your throat – you save them for later, later, when he's far away and you can finally curl up and cry your heart out without no one there to look. Fucking later.

Good.

Great.

You put your heaviest armor on. It protects weak and soft flesh because you can't meet him all bare. Then you step forward with the knowledge that you’re a thoroughly wounded guerrilla while he is a seasoned, well-rested veteran. The fight is nowhere near even, but it's ok. You are not meant to be in the presence of immortals anyway.

The man looks at you warily as you finally enter the room. That haunted look has followed you for some time now as the distance between you has grown.

It should be easy, what is about to come, because he hasn't touched you in weeks. You haven't wanted him to.

Or you have… But it's not easy to have his hands on you when your body is only a vessel you hate. How can you even think about pleasure when all you think about is how it must feel for him to caress something as awful as this?

The man is a vision, and he settles for a peasant. It should be against the law, but it's not… so you figured a some time ago that you should simply find the strength and grace to do ii: do what's right.

"I need to talk to you."

Your voice comes out neutral, and it makes you more confident, if only for a second or two.

He lifts his chin: already knows what's coming, because he's not stupid. You've been shutting down for weeks, and he hasn't done much about it. But when the thunder rolls in, he doesn't flee. Probably because he fears nothing.

"Go ahead then," he says, equally as neutral, equally as icy. Got his armor on, too.

This should be easy…

It's really not, so you decide to rip the band-aid off in one yank.

"I think we should go separate ways."

The following inhale from across the room pierces the air like a bullet. You can hear his breaths gain depth and speed all the way to where you're standing.

"Ok."

It doesn't look or sound like he's ok. If anything, he looks like he's trying to process the sudden storm.

"Ok…" His eyes are on the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. Then he starts to pace around the little kitchenette you've shared for almost six months, just before you started gaining weight.

He stops to look out the window, then turns to you, and the hurt in his stare comes through like a thousand needles pushing through skin.

"Is it because of my work?"

"No."

"What is it then?"

Your breaths are getting out of hand, too. He looks like a lost, tired creature in an abandoned animal shelter for a moment, and it breaks your heart. It squeezes the organ inside a flaming fist until it shatters like it has never been nothing more than ice.

Your lip starts to tremble, and he notices, as per usual. Nothing escapes this man, except perhaps the true reason for your anguish.

"Hey. Hey."

He comes to you and hugs you like it's the only thing that matters: to comfort you when he sees you're about to cry, no matter how crushed he's feeling himself. The sudden warmth, the intimacy after weeks and weeks of pain is knee-buckling.

"Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"

His voice is soft, so soft… The tears rush forth now; there's no way of stopping them. What the hell can you even say to a question like that? That you wish he could grab a magic wand and turn you into someone gorgeous, the woman he deserves?

His embrace feels good, kind of. It also feels smothering because your self-hate makes you want to disappear from existence entirely. His eyes are equal to physical touch, a probing scan that sees every little flaw, not to talk about massive faults, the ones which make you feel like you're simply disgusting. His touch only reminds you how you must feel like to him: soft, too soft, weak.

And he must hate weakness.

"What do you need me to do? I'll do anything," he tries with a parched throat, then swallows.

It's fucking horrible. This isn't going at all like you had imagined.

"It's not about you," you struggle out of his hold, and he lets you go with reluctance. You have to basically fight your way out of a bone and steel prison. Why would he even want to hold a pathetic woman who's on the brink of ugly crying on top of everything?

"What do you mean?"

He's slightly breathless – and restless as fuck. He's usually so calm; nothing can get to him, nothing can rattle the tower of raw strength. Now you've not only pierced some invisible armor; you can hear pieces of it falling on the floor.

"Have you found someone else?"

What the…

"No." You put as much weight on that word as you possibly can. To imagine that he thinks you are cheating… Fucking cheating on someone like him. "Jesus Christ…"

He takes a deep breath and sighs deeply, sighs out relief, perhaps. Then his razor-sharp stare fixes on you again, and you can see the fear turning into something akin to concern. You suspect you have to tell him the truth, otherwise he will dig it out of you.

"I'm just…"

Jesus, this is just humiliating.

"I'm just not your type."

"What the hell are you talking about," he mutters, the impending fury giving way to momentary surprise.

He gets intense sometimes. This time, the ferocity is born of barely concealed distress. He's broad and magnificent, even in despair. He’s just so fucking fine… The perfect man, someone you had never even imagined yourself with. Pulled down to the world of puny mortals, evidently stressing about losing one.

Losing you.

"If you have someone new, you can just bloody well tell me."

"It's not that. You don't understand–"

"Try me."

"I just…" A tear escapes down your face as you finally break for him. "I'm fat. Okay? And ugly. And–"

"Stop right there."

The look on his face is just… It's priceless, you suppose.

"Bloody fucking hell…"

He looks at the floor, then runs his fingers through the short cut hair on top of his head. You've yanked those blonde strands more times than you can count, nearly every time he's been between your legs, and you miss it – you long for it, like fallen angels long for heaven.

And if there was a time this man was rendered speechless, you would say you were witnessing that moment right now. His brows knit together, then he looks up at you again with blaring disbelief.

"You're serious?"

"Yes."

"This is the reason you wanna break up?"

Ugh.

"Yes?"

His voice grows rougher with every question until it resembles thunder, and you suspect this is the commanding tone his soldiers are used to hearing.

But you're not: it's gravelly, harsh, and betrays the feeling of having been insulted. You feel even more devastated with yourself – it appears you can do nothing right.

"Where has this… idea even come to your head?"

"I don't know."

"And you never thought to ask my opinion?"

"Would you please stop yelling," you whisper and blink back some putrid tears. His mouth is snapped shut, his head pulls back just a little as he realizes what he's done.

"Sorry," he says with a half-whisper, and you catch the strain in his throat. You've never seen him cry, but now his voice is suddenly thin and frail. "I'm sorry."

He takes a step, then another, places fingertips on the counter as if to take the faintest support.

"Can I touch you?"

You don't really want him to do that, but you feel pity for the man. He's trying to find a way through this mess, and you want to help him.

"Yes," you whisper, and he immediately comes and takes you in his arms again. Hot tears disappear into his shirt, and you sniff a few times. He feels so good, so safe, even when you're about to lose him. His hold tightens around you, and the kitchen is silent; the whole world is silent. You don't know if you're being put to a grave or if you're in a deaf womb, waiting to be reborn.

"Now I don't know who's said this shite to you but ugly is the last fucking thing I'd call you," he declares above you. As if it was some bully whose fault it is that you were this way, a bully he could deal with with his fists or a gun. If only things were that easy…

"Have I said or done something? To make you feel this way?"

Then the blade is turned against himself. The man desperately searches for a culprit so he can deal with them.

"No," is the only thing you can say because it's true: he has never done a thing to make you feel like you weren't good enough; quite the contrary. But then again, he doesn't have to. It's enough that he exists and resembles a god.

"Then why do you think you're not my type?"

"Because you're so perfect," you hear yourself wail, no, cry into that shirt that smells of sweet safety and familiar musk – his scent, another thing you have missed like it's the only way to heaven.

"That for sure ain't true."

"But it is."

He seems to have the utmost difficulty in grasping what the issue here is. You can almost hear the wheels turning in his head with a rusty, laborious creak.

"Can't believe you wanna break up because of this," he finally says. You've chipped his pride, the ego that lives off of pleasing the ones he loves: the few chosen ones who he wants to give his whole life to.

"To me, you're perfect," he then says, and you simply… You stop breathing. "You're like… my dream woman. Ever thought about that?"

It can't be true, even if you vehemently, desperately want it to be. You reach out to his words like they're precious food after years of famine. Like they're sun and spring rain after being buried in the cold, dark soil whole winter.

"No…?"

"Never occurred to you that I might find you fucking beautiful?"

"Stop," you whisper, because it's too much to take in. He sounds so serious, so sincere.

"No, I don't think I will."

He pulls back a little and cups your face. Brushes away a tear, looks at you with so much love that it physically hurts; you feel like it's a lance that slowly drives through your heart.

"How about I kiss every part I love about you?"

You let out a soft little whimper. Fuck, that you want him to…

It would also be uncomfortable as hell. To try and let him love you and your body, which you have grown to loathe.

"It's gonna take all night, though. Wanna be as thorough as possible."

"Simon–"

"Love. I want you. Thought I'd made it pretty clear, but apparently I haven't. If you only knew how much–"

He sighs deeply. The man is frustrated with his shortcomings, thinks that this is all his fault. You cry a tear or two just for the sake of how absurd it all is.

"I don't want you to go. I fucking love you. Everything about you."

For the second time this afternoon, your lower lip starts to tremble as if this was some stupid, romantic movie. He can be so soft when he wants to, more romantic than the soft-spoken gentlemen in Jane Austen's novels. It doesn't even require any effort: underneath the cynical surface, there's fiery emotion, so powerful and raw that it almost bleeds out of him. Fuck… Does he even know what he's doing to you?

"I love you too," you whisper back, and the warmth that starts to bloom in his eyes is an entire sun on its own. It's hope, and you believe him, almost believe him.

"Then I'd say it's a bloody bad idea to break up."

You chuckle while few more tears push through to the surface.

"Simon…" You sigh and look back up at him, your armor falling to the floor too. "I feel like a wreck."

You allow him to see the pain, all of it. His breath is sharp as it hits him, but he still doesn't waver.

"Then let me help you."

The arms around you gain more strength, and you're crushed against a chest made of power. He tries to turn shit to gold, and threatens to succeed. You allow yourself to soften in his hold. How good it feels to be supported – no, loved.

"You don't even let me touch you anymore."

It's a filed complaint, but also heart-rending, soul-wrenching longing. You have evaded him for weeks now – hell, this shit began months ago and has escalated gradually, stealthily, until the moments together were a rarity, the space between you was full of frost; and not the crispy, happy summer drink kind.

"I thought you'd found someone else. Could've found out if that was the case in minutes, but honestly, I didn't wanna know."

Oh my God…

Has he lived with a growing suspicion and dread all these months?

That would explain why he has avoided you too…

He has allowed you to go to your supposed lover, has given you space to be alone and without too much attention. The man has shielded himself from pain.

Jesus fucking Christ.

"I'm so sorry," you say with a strained little breath. "I swear it's nothing like that. I just… I feel like a mess."

"Never seen such a gorgeous mess."

He speaks on your skin, the kiss on your forehead feels like an absolution.

Then you notice it's not only his words which try to assure you. He's growing harder by the minute against your stomach, just from a simple hug. Just from being pressed against you like this, after weeks of dry, bitter longing.

"Miss your taste," he murmurs to your skin, his voice like sand wrapped in burning velvet. "The sounds you make when you want it hard."

Oh God–

"Miss your smile when we go to shower after."

"Hmh…"

"Don't wanna live without that smile."

You don't have to.

God, you don't have to…

"How about we make a deal," he draws fingers down your chin, coaxing you to look up at him. His eyes are stripped from the cold distance that greeted you just moments ago: now they are filled with warmth that spreads to your chest and belly and bones. You drink him in like summertide.

"You come to me every time you feel bad and I'll make you feel good. Alright?"

"...Ok."

He tilts his head a little to the side, not entirely satisfied with your shy little answer.

"Come on. Make me believe it."

"It's a deal," you say with more grit to it, even if you're nearly crying again, this time from relief.

"That's my girl."

Oh fuck…

He knows exactly what strings to pull, the good girl talk being one of the things that instantly makes your legs feel like jelly.

And why does he always have to use that voice when he calls you a good girl or his girl, that sultry smoke that makes you want to swoon until he catches you and carries you to bed?

The man seems to be a mind reader as well, because he sweeps you off your feet and does exactly that: carries you to your bed which has mainly seen silent tears and painful sleep last months.

"Poor thing doesn't even know how lovely she is."

He sounds amused in the face of your darkness: sees it in full and still doesn't fear at all. He's ready to battle your demons for you, and you feel like shaking: from his touch and that voice, from the stress and loneliness that starts to release as he lays you down on the bed.

He looks so different from the man that has haunted this place for the past months, the complete opposite of the reserved soldier retreating into the shadows.

He moves to kiss you, and it's been – what? Weeks since your last kiss? And even that was only a quick peck, nothing like this… Wet, and desperate; a devouring. It makes you clench around nothingness, and you finally surrender.

No one can fake such fervor.

You try to accept it: accept the fact that even if you hate yourself, he does not. For some reason, he adores you. His breaths hit your face hot and urgent, and he can't keep his hands to himself anymore. They wander over your waist and hips, they even risk to steal a feel of your breasts, and then he groans in your mouth.

"I've missed you. Fuck, I've missed you..."

You taste notes of burning leaves; tobacco, his only weakness. You fantasize on the thought that you might be another weakness, too.

"Remember when I fucked you in my office?"

"I've missed you too," you utter softly in between the kisses that threaten to turn into a sloppy mess. "So much..."

He smiles at that, and it makes you weak, even when lying down like this.

"Yeah…?"

"You were so loud I had to put a hand over your mouth."

His voice is thick as he laughs a short chuckle. Your inner walls clench again at the sound, you throb among the warm syrup surrounding you.

"Never seen you so wet. Almost dripped all over my gear."

"It's that stupid mask you wear," you hear yourself breathe like you've just been underwater. Feel yourself throb some more, feel a burning sensation in the nether areas from the scorched desert turning wet again. You want him so much that it actually hurts down there.

"Knew you'd like it. That's why I kept it on."

If this man keeps talking, your underwear is going to be utterly ruined. And of course he does; of course he continues to pour more love in your ear.

"Everyone looked at you like you were a queen," he grunts in your ear, sounding almost… pissed.

"Don't be ridiculous," you try to form sensible words. It's only a faint breath, really, but he huffs at your modesty.

"You don't have eyes in the back of your head, love."

Wow… He is a bit pissed.

Had they checked your ass out when you visited him?

It was the first and, what you thought, the last time you got to visit him at his workplace… but you never would have guessed the reason for him not asking you to visit again would be jealousy.

"Don't worry. I put those fuckers in their place after you left."

Whoa.

Ok…

First, he had fucked you senseless in his office – a highly inappropriate move for a man in his position – then got jealous because some soldiers had checked you out as you left with his cum practically dripping from your cunt.

You put yourself in his shoes for a moment: he's had to live with thoughts of you running to some other man's arms when he's not home, and then watch you waltz around his workplace after making what was supposed to be the last effort to make him love you… When he has loved and adored you this whole time, has watched the sway of your ass with the rest of those home-deprived, horny soldiers, thinking you had fallen out of love and were on your way to go see some other guy.

Had he invited you there to try and win you back, too? By showing himself to you in all his puffed up, masculine glory? A desperate man in a skull mask, hoping to get love from you…

There's so many misunderstandings; they rip your throat. A sob escapes, and he stops his caress.

"Love… Tell me to stop if you–"

"No. No, I don't want you to stop."

Your request comes out with such demand that he hesitates only a second or two. Then he moves on top of you and tugs your skirt up. You don't even have time to realize what is happening before he has worked himself out of his pants.

He's hard and heavy between your legs, and your eyes go wide as you realize he's not going to bother to take your briefs off. He just slides a hand under the skirt and draws the fabric aside, and the fat tip of him is pushed in the middle almost clumsily. It's hot, and slips down to your opening with ease.

Oh f–

"Been jerking off to you nearly every night at the base," he says just before he pushes himself in.

"Uh–...."

Your thighs spread wide as he fills you slowly, inch after inch. The sound that leaves him is starved: a dry, painful sigh. He's been waiting for this for god knows how long, and you're just as hungry to take him in. He seems endless, the way he finally works himself fully inside, spreading you even wider as the thickening base of his cock reaches its end.

"Thought you were getting railed by someone else while I only get to fuck my hand."

"Oh god…"

There's really nothing else to say as his balls press against you, heavy and taut. He's not going to last long.

"Yeah. Imagine that," he admits, breathless like you.

You look at him with what must be the most helpless stare of longing in your eyes. Then he moves, and you want to grip him to keep him inside. The first thrusts are divine, they're pure heaven, and your head sinks deep into the pillow as you try to get enough air, try to not scream from pleasure already. Somehow, all you are able to utter is a desperate little whisper.

"Simon–"

His cock is good enough to bring tears to your eyes. You're starving too, you're pulling him in with fierce hunger, and he groans, then nearly falls forward, his weight pressing against you, swallowing you, until you feel like you're an idiot for thinking that you're too big. The thickness of his chest rubs against you as he makes love to you with passion that echoes the first times you did this.

"Just wanna adore you, love." He's panting desperate somewhere above you. A god and a man, both furious and gentle. "I wanna adore you. Just like this."

You answer him with what must be those sounds he told you about, the sounds you make when you want it hard.

You want him to fuck you, to wreck you after weeks of loneliness and hate. To love you until you break into a million pieces.

"Simon," you whisper. "...Love me."

He halts, huffs in your neck. It's almost a sob. There's so much emotion and desperation in the air that it could be scooped up and sold in the streets.

"Always," he rasps in your ear, then moves to kiss you again. "Always."

The promise echoes around you, it coats your lips as he loves you with all he has. It's been so long, and he feels so good that you nails dig into his shirt, his shoulder, you try to hold onto him even though he's the wave that rocks you.

"You feel that?" He goes deep; he's out of breath and desperate, even more desperate than you. "That's love. You feel it, yeah?"

"Yes," you sob in his shoulder, tears trying to escape your waterline as you're going dumb from the pure sensation, the sensuality of it all.

"That's it, love. That's a good girl," he turns to your neck and gruffs in your ear as you whimper and moan. "Always such a good girl."

Shit…

"I, I'm gonna…"

Your legs wrap around his middle, your muscles twitch and your hands reach and grab – they claw and yank and tug everything they can: his back, shoulders, shirt, something sturdy to keep you from drowning in a glorious orgasm.

He laughs in your neck and continues to grind you through your climax even when you're shattering, sighing, moaning, writhing under him. He just laughs, the man who never laughs: from witnessing you respond to him calling you a good girl.

Fucking bastard…

Lovable, infuriating bastard who knows you to your core.

You're an overstimulated heap by the time he comes as well, not long after you, but long enough to make you feel like you're only a tender bunch of nerves. Your legs have fallen to the side, he has open access to take what he needs: you, your love, all of it.

His whole middle goes tense as he cums, he groans and swears somewhere deep into your neck, rolls his hips over and over again like it's a must that his balls press against you with every thrust that shoot his load.

Then he falls slack, nearly collapses on top of you, reminding you of what it feels like to be small under a giant like him. You're throbbing together, you're full and fulfilled, and he is still lodged deep inside you, panting and broken in a sweat.

"Jesus Christ…"

He sounds dazed.

Relieved.

"Should've done this weeks ago."

You laugh at seeing him so done – a man in love, torn by jealous yearning, finally taking what's his. You stroke his neck, his back – it's so good to have him finally there… So close, with no barriers in between.

"I should've talked to you weeks ago..."

"Yeah. You should have."

"Are you going to punish me?" You giggle a little – the flirt is light and frees your heart further from its recent jail. He moves to look at you with all the tenderness there is. It's too much... His love is too much. But you won't run from it anymore.

"Nah. Think I'm gonna spoil you some more."

He spoils you right away with a kiss. You surrender to his treatment with happiness: happy tears, even.

The medicine to your anguish has been the exact opposite to what you had first tried, what you had originally thought. The true remedy for your sickness is mercy. Perhaps some spoiling…

And love.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley smut #simon riley fluff #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost fluff #soft simon riley #simon riley imagine #ghost x you #simon riley x you #fluff and smut #call of duty

4K notes · View notes

jazeswhbhaven · 1 month ago

Text

THE PURPOSE OF THAT TALISMAN | Zagan L-card React | Summary

Alright ya'll it's the first react of the year! I'm finally getting around to going over this sweet devil's L-card!

I'm happy he was the first one to get this opportunity because he's actually the first noble I fell for during the launch! I was intrigued by his bunny ear horns and he's selectively mute.

With that being said, because this is a Nightmare Pass exclusive, I of course cannot give you EVERYTHING that's inside the card in order to keep within the wishes of PB's content rules, but as I did with previous NP cards, summaries with heavy paraphrasing with a few screenshots are the best I can do~

I'd like to thank my friends/mooties for sharing their cards with me so I can continue doing these reacts <3 Ya'll are amazing

💙Summary💙

At the local pub in Gehenna, all the devils are gathered together in order to view a popular convention in Japan (they call it Cumiket in the game but iirc it's Comiket, right?)

There's rumors that it's Paimon who went down to Earth to whisper about the devil's lives in Hell to influence a few humans to make a game about it and well...MC asks Paimon to confirm or deny that and he gives a "Maybe I diddd <3" answer (love this)

So while MC is chillin' at the VIP table consisting of Sitri, Leraye, Paimon and Zagan (Ppyong too) they wait for the results to come in

Funny mention is that the citizens of Gehenna totally do not know where Abyssos is, and I find it funny that it seems to carry throughout the story that the other local citizens have nothing but general ideas and rumors to go off of on how each country acts, but the Kings and some nobles are knowledgeable and for good reason.

It's also cute to me though that the nobles that were in the lead for the popularity contest were Foras, Bael, Sitri, and Zagan. All the devils from all over Hell were tuned in to see who would win.

It's then...that the winner is revealed! Zagan!?!?!

The winner gets to be a model for Phenomenon, similar to when we saw him for all of the selfie cards. This time though we meet two new characters Usako, and Nesagi. (I really love their designs) it appears that they are Pheno's assistants!

Also, we see that Phenomenon threatens and literally beats up(and stabs) his assistants for the smallest of things, it's funny because we were just seeing him getting bent over and turned into a pretzel in Asmo's selfie card, but in this story he's pretty much a strict, abusive boss. 💀 Usako and Nesagi seem to not mind.

It was also important to note, that MC was also chosen by Pheno to join Zagan in the photoshoot. And it's not just any normal photoshoot. We are aware of Pheno's preferences when it comes to photography and he wants to capture a whole new side to this devil thinking MC can help with that

It turns out, that yes...MC can help and Zagan is more than willing to show a new side of himself in front of them. With the help of talismans.

The smut is actually pretty well written for Zagan's personality. He's calm, confident, and at the same time so needy for MC's touch. You also notice that during this entire time he's been speaking to MC in longer sentences and opening up.

There's also a pretty strong power bottom vibe that comes from him. Because even though MC is on top of him, he's calling the shots from below. He even writes the amount of times MC came on his thigh. (w h y is he so hot? fcuk)

So after he pretty much fucks MC into a messy fluid puddle, Phenomenon starts takin' photos like crazy as he's finally satisfied with his subject now. He completes the magazine cover and MC gets their own private VIP photos of them having sex. There's a cameo of their clothes on the cover too.

and that's pretty much the entire card

💙Screenshot Highlights~💙

He's so goofy, I love him.

Pheno and his assistants. They are so damn adorable! I love the mask designs too, I might mess around and find myself wanting to cosplay one of them.

The longest he's been talking, and these are his thoughts in battle. Goodness this is why he's one of my favorites 😩

h a w t

g i m m i e z a g a n pp

IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN MEEEEEE

?????!?!!!!!!!!! And this was after he said no???????

Me everytime I read this as I imagine him saying it to me while creaming on his c a w k

Pheno was takin' pictures while MC and him were fuckin' but Zagan is so goddamn romantic....the way his mannerisms are during sex are that of a true lover that wants to be lost in you forever and he admits that. His actions are loud too wen the fun is over (he really didn't want to stop)

I wonder...if this means they will do another "model" L-card for someone else? Only time will tell.

Psssttt: Click here to see what he's packin' btw I would not hesitate to sit on it and him coming because he's being stimulated by the brush is so simple yet so hot for him?

💙Date Story/Chat Summary!💙

This is shortly after the contest is over and the magazine cover was debuted!

Zagan hadn't had any privacy since then, and with that it was hard for him to see MC. SO Ppyong makes it happen by distracting the fans, and then they meet!

Zagan is honest during the date, though still having "some" trouble expressing himself through words. There are moments where he tells MC that he couldn't wait any longer and he had to see them.

This is what I meant by that desperation and neediness mixing in with the right amount of dominance during intimacy is a perfect balance for someone like him!

Also, this date story is quite perfect for Zagan fans, as he's so fucking romantic he even takes MC to the first place they met in the main story. His expresses his feelings have never changed and it was love at first sight.

Also the term...."I'm watching you..." seems to be referring to the VIP picture they both received and yeah....spank bank material!~

Zagan is truly a cautious and cute noble. From posting boring videos of him grinding food (which honestly could count as asmr material) and not being sure how to get Satan to stop sending out the magazines to other countries in mass amounts without overstepping ranks in power, just so cute.

It also appears that his neck seems to be a private area to him which is why he prefers it covered by his hair. (I will kiss him there >:3)

We also get to see that Zagan easily gets jealous. It's not a aggressive jealously like Satan, but it's more of a "you know other men? 🥺" kind of jealously where you want to pinch his cheeks and tell him he's being cute.

Also...

yeah high-ponytail Zagan is doin' something for me (honestly I think I like Zagan so much because the white long hair reminds me of Sesshomaru and he doesn't speak much either and both of them are hot and idk i'm losing my brainnnnn to the rootttttt)

💙Overall Score: 10/10 💙

For Zagan fans this was a really fluffy and romantic card. The smut was written appropriately, and we got to see more of Zagan's personality come to light.

A major con of this though, is that in order to even get this much of lore for any characters that aren't either PB's favorites or L-grade...is behind a damn paywall. Like I get it? But at the same time I just want more info on my faves to further fuel my headcanons. That's all.

The adore mode movements are good, however his expressions don't seem to match the energy of the VA. This may have been a slight miscommunication somewhere, perhaps the VA was going off of how Zagan's personality should be, therefore personality= check, matching the sexual energy= not so check...

That's more of an observation for me but that may be a major bother for someone who was looking forward to the card's content.

Well today was pretty much the last day to try and get him so my react is late for a recommendation on if one should get it or not, BUT I will say that if you are a Zagan fan and didn't get him this time around, I suspect they'll bring him back for a future banner and you should try and snag him if you can.

But that's it from here! four days into the new year ya'll, hope it's goin' well for everyone! ^^ next up should be Luci's Blow card...so stay tuned <3

-💙Jaze

(Ppyong's fanclub holds a special place in my heart)

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb spoilers #whb summary #whb l cards #whb zagan #jazewhbreacts🖤

153 notes · View notes

blueblossomrose · 2 months ago

Text

This post is part of the Twisted Parents Series.

Content: Post-canon, marriage, children, household contents, afab!fem!MC, general hcs, reasonable age difference between Fellow and MC.

Notes: Skully in this is an entity and he's not exactly dead? It's more like he ascended and became a being that represents halloween just like Jack.

Comments and reblogs are very welcome ♡

Resume HCs [8]

A full year at Noble Bell College later, He shocks a total of 0 people when he starts an administrative course.

He had mentioned to MC that he would like to specialize in the courts to become a jugde. MC gave him her full support.

MC said she thought he would do great as a minister, which Rollo thought about. But in the end he said he really liked the idea of being a judge, not just because of the "Righteous Judge" story but because he wanted the laws to be fairer for people like MC.

Had been dating for at least a few years before the proposal. Rollo wanted to make sure he was doing everything right.

Just an addendum, Rollo really didn't want the Night Raven College people at his wedding. But being a good future husband, he ended up giving in for his future wife wishes.

He and MC had a boy they named Julien.

Manager of Playful Land? No. No more crime life for you, honest young man.

MC practically made him completely overhaul his life. He refused at first, but before he knew it he was doing everything she told him to do.

He wasn't the one-woman type, but something about the magicless newly graduate of Night Raven College changed his mind. He accuses MC of lying about not having magic, after all, she must have bewitched him, right?

As his first real honest job, you introduced him to a gentle old man who owned a cuckoo clock shop. Fellow was initially reluctant to do so, but with his smooth talk, he became a very good salesman indeed. That's what you were counting on, anyway.

Your money combined with his gave you a house, and you even managed to enroll Gidel in a school.

Fellow is the only one whose MC ended up getting pregnant before marriage. The idea hadn't crossed his mind until the pregnancy test came and oops! He realized it was time to get married.

You and he have a boy: Nicolas. Or as he would be known a few years later, Nick Honest.

Is there a hint of halloween approaching? Yes, of course!

Skully was so happy to have his own halloween queen. Just like Jack had Sally, he had you!

But wait, you'd only really be a queen if you two got married, right? So he didn't waste any time.

MC soon realized that weddings and ceremonies in Halloween Town are very different from any she had ever experienced.

Skully doesn't exactly have a traditional family, but he does consider some of the people from his town to be his family, so how about him introduce them to you? He doesn't think you need to introduce the people from Night Raven College, since he already knows them.

The pregnancy was a surprise to everyone, but hey! It's Halloween! Your baby can only be a blessing, so let's celebrate!

You had a girl: Holly.

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader #twst #twst mc #♡ twisted parents. au #twisted wonderland x fem reader #twisted wonderland x mc #skully j graves x reader #fellow honest x reader #rollo flamme x reader #x fem reader

305 notes · View notes

thatnonameuser · 2 months ago

Note

OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG I just read the Azul thought and I totally agree!! It makes me excited to see his breaking point when his contracts are all destroyed!!! AH!! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) Can't wait to see him crying and sobbing because all his hard work turned to dust, that he's once more proven to be a pathetic yandere. Outclassed by some like Leona that even MC [A darling!] chose to live and work with Leona more than him. [and on that note: I can also imagine that this memory will make Azul more spiteful with Leona post-ob.]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And speaking of Leona!! I also had a thought. Did you know that in the original Lion King, Scar liked Simba's mom? And one of the reasons he killed Mufasa was to have her when he becomes king. I was wondering if you're going to incorporate that? That Leona once thought of Cheka's mom as his darling, and when his brother took her away [Like he took everything else from him] Leona was filled with hatred; In a Leona-centered event, Leona was said to have done everything in his power to prove that he too should have a claim to the throne and that he was better than his brother, only to give up once his brother's reign became secure after producing Cheka. I would imagine yan-au Leona to try and fight his brother for darling, only to lose. And he'd keep fighting, of course, he's nothing but tenacious. Only to have his spirits crushed when it's announced that she's pregnant. [Which you said is an ultimate claim of the darling?]

He went to school late because of that and he stayed there because he didn't like going home [Probably gets sour every time he catches sight of Cheka.] And you said that yanderes can find out that they can mistake a darling to be theirs until they meet "The true one". So will MC be a victim of this "True Darling" schtick? I imagine this can fuel Leona's possessive tendencies. He's already lost once. I doubt he'd want to lose again. [I also imagine he'd be pissed at Riddle and everyone else during his OB, cause they specifically kept MC away as he was "too dangerous"] just a thought dump, hope this is okay?

Don’t worry! It was perfectly okay!!

Azul’s going to want to kill Leona.

After finding out Leona, a strong yandere, sent him back to being a pathetic, useless yandere again with just a little magic is destroying him. And when he finds out you worked with him (you hate him, you think he’s too weak so you chose someone stronger because he’s too pathetic-) well, that’ll just destroy him. When he finds out that you slept in Leona’s bed because of your deal. Knowing that you were wrapped in that beast’s arms for three nights makes his cold blood boil that much hotter.

(Side note - Chad Leona stealing Beta Azul’s girl was a hilarious idea I came up with as I was writing this. I thought I’d share it.)

He wants to skin that lion alive. But if you come to him for any help in getting away from the lion, he’ll do it without a second thought, anything he can do to draw you to him and away from that lazy, oversized house cat.

* * * *

But let’s move back to Leona. But before that, Scar.

I actually did know that Scar liked Sarabi, that’s the name of Simba’s mom, which is why I’ve made her his darling. Scar says in the Lion King that Mufasa was always stronger than him, so maybe Scar tried to fight for the throne and Sarabi’s hand and failed. And because of that it’s one of the reasons he kills his brother and tries to kill Simba, because he wants to get rid of every reminder that he didn’t win her hand originally.

Now back to Leona, he is similar. He originally assumed Falena’s wife, then fiance, to be his darling back when his brother brought her home. She was beautiful, smart and sly. She wasn’t some useless basic princess, she was clever and snarky, noble and strong. Back then, he confused her for his darling. And for good reason, back then he once saw her as perfect.

But as soon as he saw the bite mark on the back of her neck, the love at first sight dissolved into jealous fury. Of course, his brother would try to take everything he ever wanted away from him before he could even try to get it. Like he always did.

Watching him wrap his arm around her, kiss her, and touch her made that jealous burn all the brighter. He obviously tried to fight his brother for her, but while he was given the brains in the family, his brother got the brute strength and he lost. Whenever he tried again, he lost again. He even hoped his brother would fail in the rituals needed for him to marry her, but once again the brute found success.

And then they got married, and then she got pregnant, and after that Cheka was born. And that little ankle biter wouldn’t leave him alone, permanently reminding him about his loss. Going home drilled that agonising reminder into his heart.

But then, he met you.

There’s a saying that if you confuse someone else as your darling, their traits will be similar to your true darling. And you are all those things.

He knew you were his as soon as he breathed in your scent. And he was given his second chance to have his darling. His true one this time. But that’s what makes him so possessive. Fuelled by his animal instincts and past loss, he’s not going to risk losing you.

Regarding his rage at the others for keeping you away from him, he’s definitely pissed combined with the reminder of his other losses. The urge to dissolve them into sand particles for them keeping his darling away from him.

Also……..

Seven forbid Leona finds out Malleus has been spending time with you. Seven forbid Leona finds out you’re also Malleus’ darling. Leona’s not dumb, as soon as he can get you he will.

Better be smart, Herbivore~

#ask #i love asks #yandereverse au #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere leona kingscholar

136 notes · View notes

wolfiesmoon · 1 year ago

Text

The TWST boys and their number 1 princess

reader is fem! and is a bit of a bratty princess typa girl😌

i already wrote this on my haikyuu blog a bit back but somehow the song world is mine fits with like every character ever (defo reccomend listening to the song while reading)

seriously it's so fun imagining the song with different characters

Characters featured: Silver, Leona, Riddle, Jack

₊˚⊹♡ Silver

"Siiilver!~ Where aaaare you?" you called out to him in the courtyard. Lilia told you he would be there so you're beginning your search, well, there.

Why you're looking for Silver in the first place? To hold his hand, of course. None of the subtler methods have worked so far, much to your chagrin.

Holding his hand is the first step to making him your prince, you see. You've spent countless nights fantasizing about him kneeling down and kissing your hand while singing praises about your endless beauty.

Oh, how exciting it is to see the future play out in front of your eyes! You even got endorsement from Lilia for the wedding!

You eventually found him laying in the green grass, peacefully asleep. He really does sleep a lot, huh? You just can't get enough of his face, especially when it's so relaxed and at peace.

Wait... now that you think about it, in a lot of fairytales where princesses are asleep, their problem is solved by true love's kiss. Maybe his issue can be solved by it too....

Forget holding hands, you have a curse to break (atleast you assume it's a curse, since Lilia has told you he can't control it at all)! And being the top princess, you can break it, of course!

You kneel down next to him, quickly checking your breath. Probably smells fine. It's now or never!

As you lean in, his eyes gently open and you immediately jump back, pretending you weren't just about to kiss him. Out of all the times he had to wake up, it was now... You were this close!

"Ugh... I fell asleep again...?" Silver seemed to be bothered, like he always is when he wakes up.

"You did! And I was kind enough to wake you up! You should be glad I happened to stumble upon you!" you tried your best to look unbothered and collected. Silver pouted slightly at your tone.

You got up, placing one hand on your knee and extending the other towards him to help him get up. He silently took it, getting up with your help. "Thank you." he said curtly, expression softening at your happy little grin.

Wait... He just held your hand for a moment there! He really did!!!

The wedding dress! You have to pick out a wedding dress, as soon as possible!

₊˚⊹♡ Leona Kingscholar

"Hmph! Won't you just say something already?!" For some reason, he looked nervous when he heard the anger in your voice. His eyebrows creased in worry for a moment before returning to their normal resting position. He's definitely not asleep then.

You finally got fed up with the lack of acknowledgement from Leona. Practically everyone but him complimented you on your outfit today.

You even dressed up all pretty just to impress him and get him to notice your outstanding appearance. Not that you need pretty clothes to impress. Any guy would be begging at your feet even when you're in your at-home shirt and your old worn out shorts.

Leona should consider himself lucky in that regard. You've fallen for him. He has to act fast or you'll be swept away by a much more noble prince before he can place a ring on your finger.

"Hmmm...? What are you yapping on about?" Leona opened one of his eyes, acting like he has no idea what you mean. He definitely noticed the outfit. He's just choosing not to mention it.

"The dress! You're supposed to mention it!" you stomped your foot on the ground, annoyed with him.

"Oh, I don't really care. It doesn't matter if you're wearin' the finest silk or a potato sack when you're a pain in the ass anyways." he closed his eyes again, sighing with annoyance.

"Ugh! You know what? I don't care about you anymore! I'll go find a guy who can appreciate me properly!"

You were totally bluffing, but you might actually start considering it soon if he keeps acting so annoyed around you.

A great princess knows when to give up, too. Unreciprocated love brings tears, and tears ruin cute makeup.

As you turned on your heels to stomp off to Vil for more makeup advice, you felt your wrist being grabbed roughly.

"Stay here. Just stay quiet and you can stay." He squeezed your wrist, his face looking like the very definition of annoyance and... jealousy?

This is certainly a turn of events. "Fine, I'll stay." You huff. "But ONLY if you say I'm pretty in my dress." You smile smugly, watching him sigh and furrow his brows.

"You look... beautiful." He said it as if he was forced to, but somehow you could sense some truth behind those words.

You never asked him to call you beautiful after all, he definitely could have gotten away with a three-quarter hearted 'you look pretty in that dress'.

₊˚⊹♡ Riddle Rosehearts

"Hiiiii, Riddle!~ Hi Silver, hi Sebek." You greeted Riddle cheerily, treating the other two Equestrian club members like an afterthought. Riddle is much cuter in comparison, after all.

You're here for a poetically romantic reason. You see, ever since you learned that Riddle knows how to ride a horse, a certain fantasy has been visiting you in your dreams every night. Ideally, you wish he had a princely white horse, but you suppose a brown one can fulfill its duty well enough. The fantasy of him taking you on a romantic horse ride is the same no matter what his horse looks like.

Which speaking of, you visit the Equestrian club every day so you can convince Riddle to let you ride his horse, to make your dream a reality. So far, no luck. Actually, you've been trying to get closer to Riddle in general recently.

He isn't the most receptive to your flirting attempts but he makes adorable faces of anger when Cater or Trey tease him about you. Truly, a prince deserving of your attention.

"Hello. Have you come to watch us again?" Riddle asked with no particular emotion behind his voice. Surely, he knew what was coming by now. No need to ask such foolish questions.

"No, I came to ride your horse with you. You should know that by now." You are equally calm and collected in your own request. You try to put on your most cute, charming smile to lure him in.

You have been getting close to Vorpal, since you knew some horses are untrusting of unfamiliar riders. You researched every known piece of horse-related literature you could get your hands on in the library just to impress Riddle with horse facts. You're very prepared.

"You..." Riddle sighed.

"Just let her." Silver placed a hand on Riddle's shoulder, probably getting a little sick of your nagging too.

"...Fine, if I must." Riddle said after a short pause and you damn near passed out from excitement right then and there.

"As you should. I cannot believe you made me wait this long." You kept it casual on the outside, not wanting to let your excitement show too much.

Once you were properly sat on the horse with Riddle behind you, you felt like you achieved something great. You still almost can't believe how many refusals it took for this to happen. But a princess always gets what she wants in the end.

"Just don't be tense. Horses can sense that and it puts them in distress." He instructed. When you turned back and smiled cheekily at him, you noticed his cheeks were pink.

"What is it, my prince?" you gave him puppy eyes.

"D-Do not call me that, or look at me like that. It's distracting." His face got even redder. Yikes, even Vorpal can sense that he's panicking right now.

₊˚⊹♡ Jack Howl

"Get me food. Something sweet." You crossed your arms, raising your chin smugly. This is a non-negotiable matter.

"I don't think I'm indebted to you right now." that was his gentler way of saying he's not doing it. Why he doesn't just straight up say "no" to you is a mystery. Perhaps he knows the proper way to respect a princess such as yourself.

You sighed in annoyance. Seems you have to pick up the charm.

"But Jaaaaack, I'm just so hungry!~ And I can't run around in my pretty heels..." you put on your best puppy dog eyes. Surely, you can convince your future prince to do a simple favour for you.

Future prince...

The fact that wolf beastmen have one partner for life has been keeping you up at night, in both a good way and bad way. That means once you get him hooked, he's there for life, BUT! He can easily get stolen away by another and then you lose all your chances.

Truly, a challenge befitting of someone like you. That's why you're hanging around him so much.

"You know, you make it really hard for me to say no sometimes." Jack scratches the back of his head. "Doesn't mean you succeeded this time, though." he smirks slightly at you.

You would squeal (internally) over his smirk if you didn't feel slightly dissapointed right now. Oh well, you suppose you can't demand everything from your future prince. He is your equal, after all.

Upon seeing your slightly sad face, something bubbled up within him. It doesn't look right.

"I'll go get it. Do you want anything in particular?" he got up suddenly.

"Huh? Jack, you don't have to. I changed my mind." He felt a strange sense of unease to see you acting so... gently. It wasn't a bad thing neccesarily, it just felt wrong. And besides, you'd never 'change your mind' about sweets. He knows you enough to know that.

"I'll still do it.... Not because I feel bad, though. Don't get the wrong idea." he huffed, turning away before you could notice the slight pink dusting his cheeks.

505 notes · View notes

mythicmanuscripts · 5 months ago

Note

Okay, the person who sent the vampire ask awakened something in me, because all my faves from HOTD fit at least one trope of vampire romance/erotica.

We've already established pretty boy Aegon (as usual, love that for him).

I totally agree that Aemond fits in the vampire role (I mean, look at his aesthetic. Boy's right at home there), where he's smitten with a human and refuses to acknowledge that he was basically stalking them at the beginning, until said human calls him out and shows no fear of him, they're just pissed off. And that does it, he's down even worse than he already was.

I feel Daemon and Rhaenyra would also fit vampire roles, with Daemon being the one who turned Rhaenyra, and she took to being a vampire like a fish to water. I think they'd be the type that has several "partners" they feed from, on a somewhat regular basis, but they also enjoy "hunting" every now and again, Daemon especially. They don't kill anyone, but they do enjoy the fear they can feel from the person they're feeding from.

Then One human shows up that seems immune to both Daemon's charms, and threaths, and Rhaenyra is living for it, she's having the time of her life watching him being flustered. And that's how they end up with a regular partner, not just in the feeding sense.

And of course, our boy Jace. I just feel like he would be such a good fit for an ingenue kinda trope? Noble birth, slightly sheltered, intelligent as hell, maybe too curious for his own good. He stumbles upon a vampire feeding on someone, nearly killing them, and ends up conflicted when he finds out the person was a reprehensible sort of criminal (like, heavy shit, type of criminal). And he keeps seeking the vampire out, even after being turned away because he's a stranger at that point, they don't trust him.

But he's relentless, and gets himself into trouble, and the vampire saves him, and he's head over heels for them.

TRULY INCREDIBLE THOUGHTS HERE OH MY GOD?? Anon I love you.

I'm gonna write a little bit about each of these ideas and then we can go from there! All ideas in this AU will be tagged with 'supranational!au' so block that if you don't want to see this or search it to see everything thus far :))

-------------------------------

AEGON:

Okay I know this anon didnt even mention much about him but I must briefly discuss pretty boy Aegon!!! Pretty boy Aegon who just absolutely ADORES the vampire who fucked his brains out that one time and now he's obsessed.

Everyone else thinks you're absolutely terrifying, and for good reason, but does Aegon care? No absolutely not. In fact, he gets rid of his personal kings guard and just has you instead. The kings guard can patrol the keep and stand watch outside his quarters but none of them even get close to him anymore because he's got a vampire behind him at all times.

And just one more quick thing about Aegon: originally you don't intend to only drink from Aegon because you don't want to put that much pressure on him and risk harming him. Aegon, however, is very possessive and will be very unhappy if you feed from another.

AEMOND:

Absolutely love the idea that Aemond essentially stalked someone for a solid two weeks without even knowing. Even better if you actually knew he was following you. He's not exactly subtle about it, especially because if he's standing behind you then anyone in front of you will look utterly terrified.

The way that you interact with him without fear just gets him completely hooked and yeah you just have a vampire following you around now.

Also, I kinda love the idea that Aemond actually doesn't seem capable of being the same level dangerous and skilled when he's around you? It's like he gets your scent or your attention or lord help him your blood and he just... brain off. No more Aemond.

DAEMON AND RHAENYRA:

Okay I LOVE this idea and I can't believe I never considered this concept with them. I definitely agree Daemon would have changed Rhaenya and then hunt together regularly. They're absolutely a couple that would love to fuck whoever they're feeding from at the same time.

I think Rhaenyra would be interested in you first. She'd sport you and have a conversation with you and discover that he really likes talking to you (and complaining about every single member of her small council because of course). You only meet Daemon about a week later, maybe when Rhaenyra invites you to dinner with them. Of course she had told Daemon all about you, and Daemon was certainly excited thinking they'd get a good feed and bed partner out of this.

To Daemon's dismay and Rhaenyra's delight, you don't even react to any of Daemon's attempts at flirting and seduction. You just listen to him and smile, but don't seem flustered at all.

Originally Rhaenyra had hoped to bed you with Daemon that night, but now that she's watching how worked up Daemon is becoming and how good you are at handling him? Well she's more than happy to have a front row seat to your interactions with Daemon.

For the next 3 weeks Daemon is adamant that they will never bring you into their bed, not for sex or for a feed or for both. Rhaenyra just nods and smiles to herself becasue she knows with absolute certainty that you absolutely will end up in bed with them. If Daemon truly didnt want to fuck you then he wouldnt still be talking about you weeks later.

The very first sexual thing to happen is you and Rhaenyra fucking while Daemon can only watch. He had finally made one too many ridiculous comments and so you put him in his place.

And so, Rhaenyra gets to sleep with you and drink from you while all her husband may do is watched. Eventually when you're satisfied with Daemon's punishment, you allow him to come join you two in bed. He ends up drinking from you while Rhaenyra strokes him.

The last thing he says before he falls asleep is to mumble, "We are never letting you out of this bed"

JACAERYS:

Absolutely love the thought of Jace just sort of stumping into a vampire. Maybe he was in a dodgy part of town? Like maybe he had been dragged out by Aegon but then Aegon abandoned him and now he has no idea where he is. It's while he's wandering around trying to find his way that he finds you.

You're feeding when he sees you, and as much as you want to just ignore him, he's far too pretty and far too scared for that. I think he'd run away at first, and you cant figure out why you did this, but you run after him. And it's damn good that you did becasue you find him being cornered by some people who clearly want to mug him.

Needless to say none of them made it to first light. Once they've all been dealt with, you look at Jace and he is just in awe. You escort him back to the red keep and think that's that.

Except no of course it's not Jace is desperate to find you again, and so maybe... maybe he goes back to that very dodgy area, just wandering around on his own and trying to spot you.

140 notes · View notes

hazbinshusk · 7 months ago

Text

blitzø x afab!reader. you're holed up at home with a broken leg and blitzø has surprised you by coming by to keep you company. you feel depressed and completely bored stuck in the apartment, so he decides to take your mind off it. for totally noble, selfless reasons, of course. featuring: oral sex (female receiving), masturbation, overstimulation, squirting, and horse drawings of questionable skill. 2.3k. anon request. I hope you're feeling better!

Fucking gravity.

You were a complete badass, both in Hell and on Earth – you’d spent a good long while now building up that particular reputation through your work with I.M.P, and no one was ever going to argue with that. At least, no one smart.

So, if someone could explain to you just how in the ever-loving fuck you’d managed to trip down a flight of stairs and break your goddamned fibula, that would be great. Because right now, you feel like an idiot. A hobbled, immobile idiot.

The cast wrapped snugly around your leg is bulky and irritates your skin, and Blitzø glances up from his place on the floor when you groan, an eyebrow raised. You’re sitting on your couch while a movie you’re only half paying attention to plays in front of you, your injured foot propped up on the coffee table, a pillow tucked under your heel. The other imp is sitting cross-legged between the couch and coffee table in front of you, a marker in hand. He has been happily doodling away at your cast for a while now, his forked tongue poking out as he concentrates on his latest addition to the plaster.

His tongue slips back between his lips as he registers the discomfort in your expression. “You good?”

You sigh. “My leg itches.”

“Which one?”

You give him a pointed look. “Take a wild guess.”

He snorts a laugh, abandoning whatever he’s scribbling – probably his latest (and as always, greatest) horse design – and tosses the marker on the table beside him. The plaster is already covered with his drawings; scribbles of horses all labelled with names like Bumblebee and Octagon, his name in bubble letters and badly designed graffiti, Loona giving everybody the finger. There was even one that looked like the two of you side by side, the lines jerky over the uneven expanse of the cast.

“Where?”

You lean forward long enough to tap your finger over a drawing of a horse that was christened ‘Crayon’, a couple of inches below the top of the cast. You exhale softly in relief as he slips the spade of his tail down into your cast and rubs it over your itch, letting your head fall back against the back of the couch.

“Oh, that’s godly…”

“’Bout fuckin’ time someone else said that about me.”

You chuckle, smirking at the ceiling. “Idiot.”

“Oh, c’mon.” he teases, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “You weren’t exactly fuckin’ shy about callin’ me a ‘god’ the other night…”

“Is that what I was doing?” you reply, even as you feel your cheeks warm. “Maybe I was praying for you to stop.”

“Yeah? And the shakin’ thighs and beggin’ for more?”

“…I’m an incredible actress.”

Blitzø scoffs and leans his arm on the sofa beside you, resting his temple against his hand. He gives you an appraising look as he withdraws his tail, letting the tip of it skim over your knee and over the top of your thigh as he does. You raise a brow at his expression.

“What?”

“Nothin’,” he shrugs, a devious grin curling his lips. “’s jus’ kinda fun seein’ you all helpless like this.”

“You think so?” you say, faux-brightly before letting the fake smile drop and flipping him off. He snickers. You were actually grateful, if not still surprised, that he was here. He turned up a few hours ago and let himself into the apartment – despite him not actually having a key – apparently fine with skipping work in order to keep you company and alleviate some of the boredom. He’d brought shakes and greasy diner food with him, and had been doodling away on your cast for the last hour, as content and as boyish as you’d ever seen him. It was endearing, really, if not still completely weird.

“Just give me my meds, would you?”

“What, you can’t reach ‘em?” he asks, feigning innocence, and you scowl at him. Blitzø grins, but straightens so he can collect your painkillers and your milkshake from the table. You swallow the pills down with the last dregs of the shake, sucking down the mix of chalky pills and chocolate foam noisily.

Blitzø takes the cup from you and sets back on the table, and you wince as he leans his elbows on your leg, his chin resting in his hands mockingly.

“Do you mind?”

“Not really.” he shrugs, his tail switching back and forth behind him in a slow, steady rhythm.

“Asshole.”

“You love it.” You roll your eyes despite your smile, and his widens. He removes one hand from under his chin, tip-toeing two of his fingers teasingly up along your cast and past it, from your ankle to the bare skin of your knee and higher as he speaks. “Y’know what I really love about you bein’ all busted up like this?”

“Vivid imagery?”

Blitzø gives you a sharp, wicked grin, ducking under your leg to plant himself between your thighs. He takes hold of your knees, pressing them wider, leaning in closer to you tauntingly. “You can’t go anywhere.”

A shiver rolls up your spine at the sudden huskiness to his voice, and you flush. Still, you try to push yourself further back onto the couch, away from him. “Blitz, I’m all sweaty and—”

“Not yet, baby, but you’re about to be,” he shoots back without hesitation, his claws squeezing the flesh of your thighs. “C’mon, bitch. You know I can make you feel so good…”

Your breath catches, a soft whimper slipping out of you before you can stop it. His smirk twitches wider, his tail switching back and forth predatorily behind him. He’s watching you with heavily-lidded eyes, and his expression burns into you, excites you in a way that makes you want to squeeze your thighs together to quench it. But his claws are too tight on your legs, and you can’t do it. He feels your muscles tense though, and he growls, low and hungry under his breath.

Blitzø slides his hands further up your thighs slowly, delighting in the way your breathing grows unsteady in response. The sleep shorts you’re wearing are threadbare cotton, and it takes so little once he hooks a claw into the leg of one for the threads start to tear.

“Say you want it, slut,” he urges roughly, eyes still burning into yours. “Say you want me.”

You bite your lip and nod, and that’s all Blitzø needs before he’s leaning up to catch your lips with his in a rough, hungry kiss. His tongue meets yours, his breath hot and sharp as it mingles with yours, and you sigh into the kiss, one hand coming up to cup his cheek. You can feel his smirk still playing on his features, feel his hands take hold of the waistband of your shorts and underwear. There’s the sharp sound of fabric tearing and then his hand is cupping your cunt.

You whimper into his mouth as he slides a finger up between your labia and finds you clit. He kisses you again, his fangs catching your bottom lip before he pulls back. Blitzø waggles his eyebrows at you cockily before he lowers himself back onto his knees between your thighs.

“Look at you, all wet already,” he growls before his mouth is on your clit and you moan, bucking up as best you can without moving your injured leg. Blitzø hums a laugh into your cunt, the vibrations a heady teasing against your clit, and he wraps an arm around your thigh. He hooks your injured leg up over his shoulder, and you grab blindly at the back of the couch with one hand as he smooths his claws up the outside of your thigh. He tugs you further towards the edge of the couch, opening you up further to his tongue. “Fuck, always taste so fuckin’ good…”

He doesn’t know subtlety, and he doesn’t work you up slowly to the sensation of his tongue against your clit. No, Blitzø practically attacks your cunt with his mouth, a groan rolling through him and into your pussy in a way that makes your eyes roll back. When he slips finger up into you, you moan aloud, wrapping a hand around his horn and bracing the other on the couch so you can grind against his tongue.

“Shit, Blitz, fuck…” you can feel yourself already soaking, dripping onto the cushion beneath you whenever he pulls away to tease you with biting kisses to your thighs and hips. He sucks a possessive mark into your hipbone, lathing his tongue over the same spot just as he pushes another finger up into you. “Holy fuck!”

He snickers, flicking his forked tongue tauntingly over your clit again, eyes on your face. “Careful, whore, you’re gettin’ close to callin’ me a ‘god’ again.”

“I’m…” you pant, brow creasing as you screw your eyes shut as though it can help you focus on your words instead of the way he curves his fingers inside you. “…rehearsing. Big role coming up.”

You jerk as he sinks his teeth into your thigh. “Only thing fuckin’ cummin’ here is you.”

“Satan, that’s lame, Blit—” you break off with a loud, keening moan as Blitzø sucks your clit into his mouth and tortures it with his tongue, your eyes rolling back and your hand tightening so much on the couch cushion beneath you that you hear the threads pop. The heat inside you expands, tingling through your limbs and making your back arch, and Blitzø reaches up to grope at your chest, palming your breast through your t-shirt. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck, fuuuuuck…”

That heat clenches inside you and releases and you cum, hips lifting off the couch, your cast balanced against his back. Blitzø moans into your cunt as you soak his face, lapping at your clit relentlessly. He slows only enough to let you catch your breath, keeping you burning on that breathless precipice, too stimulated to come back down, but not enough to keep the orgasm rolling through you.

He releases your breast and you hear his zipper lower. Blitzø groans against you as he wraps a fist around the base of his cock, stroking himself with the same pace he finger-fucks you with. He’s muttering the filthiest sweet nothings into your pussy, each touch of his tongue against your clit sending sparks through you that make your body jerk.

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, a thin trail of drool leaking from the corner of your mouth. “Blitz… please…”

“Fuck, that’s it, bitch,” he moans, withdrawing his fingers from your pussy to roll over your clit, his fist quickening around his erection. “Fuckin’ beg me for it, c’mon…”

“Please, baby…” you whine obediently, too far gone to care about how he’ll lord it over you as soon as you’re done. He pushes his tongue into your quivering cunt, eager, hungry for every part of you he can taste. You’re boneless against the couch except for the disjointed jerks of your hips into his face, your body chasing another release even as it finds it too overwhelming to continue. “Please, Blitz… fucking, God, please…”

He presses his fingers down on your clit just as he quickens them further and you cum again, eyes rolling back and your vision going white. Blitzø groans loudly, leaning back on his heels to watch your cunt throb and pulse, his fingers still moving over it ruthlessly. His eyes flicker up from your pussy to your face and he cums too, shouting a string of curses you don’t really understand through the endorphin-fueled haze leaking through your brain.

“Shiiiit…” he lets his head fall against your thigh, and you giggle breathlessly, punch-drunk. His shoulders shudder as he catches his breath, then his head snaps back up as though he were completely unaffected.

He rests his chin on your thigh, raising an eyebrow at you with a small smirk. “Feel better?”

You run a hand through your hair, and Blitzø watches the movement lift your breasts under your shirt. “About being stuck on the couch, or do you think your tongue somehow heals broken bones?”

“Bitch, my tongue is a fuckin’ miracle and you know it,” he shoots back, grinning against your leg as you laugh.

“I do feel more relaxed…” you admit.

“Fuck yeah, you do.”

“…But now the couch is all wet.”

His grin widens lasciviously. “Fuck yeah, it is.”

“Blitz.”

He rolls his eyes, unhooking your injured leg from his shoulder and setting your foot back on the coffee table with surprising care. He stands, making a show of tucking himself back into his jeans, winking at you when he doesn’t do them back up. “Alright, alright. Unclench that ass, sugartits, I’m on it.”

You raise a brow. “You are?”

“Yup.” he says, clapping his hands together before grabbing your crutches from where they’re propped against the coffee table. “You’re gonna take a bath, I’m gonna scrub your cum outta the couch—’

“Ew, Blitz!”

“—and then,” he continues pointedly. “You’re gonna go get all comfy in bed.”

You feel a smile twitch at the edge of your lips, surprised by your thoughtfulness. “Really?”

“Yup.” he says, popping the ‘p’. “And then we’re gonna see just how well you suck dick lyin’ down.”

You snort a laugh, shaking your head. “There it is!”

He grins widely, holding a hand out to help you up off the couch. “Fuckin’ right. Now get your ass up before I decide to make your crippled ass run this fuckin’ bath bullshit by yourself.”

202 notes · View notes

youlikegoodstuff · 4 months ago

Text

Their anniversary (prologue)

All Might x arch nemesis! reader

Gender is neutral here. Reader is a villain called Highland Havoc

Summary: it’s All Might’s and his nemesis’s anniversary, and the fans are done waiting for the villain and hero duo to kiss.

Tw: none. Just a tensions and shipping. Swear words. Stolen stop signs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It Is Fine Now. Why? Because I Am Here!”

As always, All Might made a dramatic and enthusiastic entrance, even after years of duking it out with you.

“Took you long enough. You’re usually very early to our anniversary.” You said with a smirk on your half-masked face.

All Might’s signature smile only widened at this as his hidden eyes took on a slight mischievous look.

“My apologies, my arch nemesis! Allow me to make it up to you by making a special reservation for you in jail!” He said rather lightheartedly.

The bystanders who chose to stay looked on in anticipation, ready for an absolutely glorious battle like the ones before.

“Oh no worries! You don’t gotta make it up to me.” You said with a wicked grin before launching yourself at the man.

If it was anyone else, they wouldn’t last a second in the presence of All Might. Hell, he’d have them in front of a police station by now…

But you weren’t All Might’s arch nemesis for nothing.

Highland Havoc was the name, and causing havoc is your game.

Accurate to your villain name, you created chaos with your strength-based quirk, destroying government buildings, totaling police cars, tearing out parking meters, and stealing stop signs.

One thing that separated you from the rest of the villains wasn’t just your ability to rival All-fucking-Might, but your surprisingly noble morals.

You weren’t destroying small businesses or killing people, in fact, you’ve saved people on several occasions.

You were basically a professional villainess with standards.

You were a bad guy… but not a bad guy…

The worst you did was wreck a couple hero office buildings and steal thousands of stop signs, but you never ever stole candy from a baby.

In other words, you were just a cheeky little cunt.

You were a menace… but you were Musutafu’s favorite menace.

You casually tore out a stop sign that sat on the corner of the street (one that recently replaced the old one after you stole it) and placed it on your shoulders while smirking through your mask.

“So, what’s on the agenda today? You failing for the millionth time to land a good hit on me?” You teased.

All Might chuckled heartily, but he felt the same thrill coursing through his veins that he always felt when he was ready to fight you.

“I do hate to burst your bubble, my dear,” he began, using a nickname to tease you right back. “But I’m not about to go easy on you just because it’s our anniversary.”

“Oh I don’t expect you to hold back, I’ve been waiting for the opposite actually~” You said before lifting the newly acquired stop sign and twirled it expertly in your hand.

All Might’s eyes followed your every movement like a hawk. He never took his eyes off you these days when you were facing each other, and for good reason: you were not to be underestimated. He knew better than that.

“Still got that nasty habit of collecting those silly signs, I see.” He said with that signature smile as he flexed his thick muscles, getting ready for your first attack.

“You call them silly, but the city seems to take stop sign theft very seriously.” You said while getting into your own fighting position.

All Might scoffed as he rolled his shoulders to loosen up his muscles even more.

“And rightly so! Stop signs are important, you know.” He scolded before looking you up and down with a scoff “And that mask of yours is still downright hideous. How can you handle wearing that thing?”

“You and your issues with my mask. Always having a problem with it, lad.” You sighed and rolled your (e/c) eyes.

All Might looked around the city in feigned disbelief, as if searching for a nonexistent culprit.

”And whose fault is that?” He said, glancing at you again with a smirk. “If you just took the damn thing off, I wouldn’t complain all the time. Your face is probably the only nice part of you, but I have yet to confirm that.”

“Oh shush, you just want to be able to identify me so the coppers can hunt me down.” You said with a scoff.

All Might crossed his large arms over his built chest and let out a huff.

“Now that is the last thing I want, my dear.” He retorted, his smile faltering for a moment before a mischievous grin took over. “You’re my favorite villain to wrangle; I’d be devastated if you were taken off the streets.”

The bystanders who stayed to watch were getting restless, excited, or annoyed at the two…

All Might, the #1 hero who has been the world’s symbol of peace for years; and you: #1 super villain in the country and top ranked pain in All Might’s ass, has not once made any moves on each other.

Many years of rivalry… and their OTP still haven’t made a move on eachother…

…And it was driving the tabloids and the media batshit insane.

People were dying to know what was going on with the two, and for those who had that gut feeling, it was absolute torture for the hero/villain duo to not just fuck each other already.

Who would’ve thought the hero and villain would end up in a tango of sexual tension that lasted 15 years?

“Just kiss already!”

One guy in the gathered audience yelled loudly, saying what no one else dared to say.

All Might and you immediately both stopped what you were doing and looked over at the random citizen. You both had that “deer in headlights” look, and even with half of your face covered, the surprise on your face was obvious.

All Might actually went a shade of pink in the face.

The hero finally turned to the civilian. “S-Sir! This is a-ah-a battle! That would… be highly inappropriate in such an important moment!” He said firmly, but he looked so flustered.

“You have very interesting fans, All Might...” You muttered, glancing away from the hero.

“They’re your fans too.” All Might bickered.

Before he could retort against you, the same obnoxious idiot spoke up again.

“Maybe you two should just cut the bullshit and make out already!” He said, and several cheers came from the small crowd of onlookers.

All Might’s face went red again and he began to stammer. He was starting to get flustered by the comments. He tried to gather himself quickly, and he turned to the crowd again.

“T-This is not a performance! We’re not some dance for your e-entertainment! You people should take this seriously!” All Might protested, but the comments were getting to him.

More hollering and cat calling stirred from the audience; some were even chanting a ship name for you two.

You just deadpanned… but you were admittedly a bit amused.

“…you wanna just start the fight? Can’t really hear them over us throwing punches.” You suggested.

All Might looked back at you, a slight look of relief on his face.

“Y-Yes, an excellent idea! We’re wasting time here!” He said, flexing his arms and getting back into his battle stance.

The hero was trying desperately to ignore the chants and the cheers and whistles from the audience, which was only making him more and more flustered.

Even after 15 years, All Might was never bored of battling you. He was expecting your attack and was ready for you when you ran at him. He was also relieved that he didn’t have to listen to those insufferable comments for another second.

To add to that, Even though the crowd really, really wanted you two to finally French kiss, they weren’t disappointed when it came to you both fighting. For now, they didn’t try to push you two… for now.

You immediately launched yourself forward, leaving a small crater behind you. At the last moment, he sidestepped your attack and aimed a punch directly at your ribs.

You placed your free hand in front of your ribs and grabbed his fist as he unintentionally swung you around. Once you jumped away from him, you swung the stop sign at his head.

The man quickly blocked the blow with his massive forearm and pushed the sign away.

He wasn’t just going to accept any injury without at least putting up a fight. He was itching to actually land a solid hit on you, which was a challenge due to your strength and agility.

He took the opportunity whilst your stop sign was pushed away to aim a kick at your side.

All Might cringed inwardly when you were sent through a wall. He really was dreading the paperwork… Technically, you destroyed that building, he’s just doing his duty.

…Also, you had a tendency to let him strike on purpose so he could indirectly damage buildings *cough* *cough*-

As you were recovering from that kick and standing at the edge of the hole you left, the people in the audience were whistling and hollering at you two.

All Might stared up at you with a scoff before marching over to the new hole in the wall.

“Damnit, why didn’t you dodge???” He almost whined.

You chuckled as you placed your stop sign on your shoulder and jumped down, landing in front of him with a deep thud.

“C’mon… you know why~” You said cheekily.

Despite the mask covering your lower face, he could tell you were smiling.

He let out an aggravated sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his signature smile up through gritted teeth.

“You’re terrible.” He muttered.

In the background, some of the more overbearing and blunt All Might and Highland Havoc fans in the crowd started shouting again.

“Get a room already!”

“The damn sexual tension is more thick than Midnight!”

All Might was blushing furiously, trying to tilt his face away from anyone’s sight.

‘If I hear one more comment from these people…’ he thought to himself, keeping up that friendly All Might front for his fans and for himself.

Unfortunately, he was interrupted by another loud comment.

“Stop being pussies and kiss already!!” A more blunt and shameless fangirl yelled from the crowd.

All Might looked at his nemesis with a strained smile on his face.

You… You just deadpanned.

“…I’m just going to swing this at your durable head, is that okay?” You asked plainly yet genuinely, holding up your stop sign to show off your weapon of choice.

All Might let go of his restraint and rubbed the bridge of his nose again.

“That is absolutely fine.” He replied in annoyance before pulling his hand away to look at you. “In fact, could you please hit me in the face? I’d rather we got serious.”

Just then, another shrill female voice cried, “Oh come on, a kiss would be soooo much better tho-“

All Might gritted his teeth and interrupted. “Please, random citizen, I’m trying to concentrate!!”

Unfortunately, because All Might lost concentration, you took this chance to slam the sign part of the stop sign into his face.

He took the hit like a champ and stumbled back, but it didn’t knock him down, just caused him to fumble with his massive feet until he got his footing again.

He clutched his now throbbing cheek and winced.

’Note to self: keep your focus from now on.’ All Might thought to himself as he righted himself.

He smirked through the pain and glared over at you again.

“…You’re going to pay for that.” He said.

Instead of trembling in fear, you simply blinked in surprise, amazed that you actually nailed him in the face with the metal sheet so easily, before looking at the stop sign.

Your shock quickly turned into amusement after you did a double take.

“Oh my God!” You laughed from amusement and shock as you stared at the imprint of All Might’s face in the stop sign.

All Might’s glare and smirk dropped for a moment, instead looking at her with a bewildered look before following her gaze to the sign.

When he saw the All Might face-shaped imprint, he actually snorted.

The fans in the background were cheering and hollering at the scene unfolding on the battlefield between their favorite number one hero and number one villain.

You continued laughing while leaning onto the pole of the stop sign for support.

It wasn’t even one of those taunting laughs he always heard from you, it was one of those rare, genuine ones.

The hoarse sound of your laughter was so unbelievably beautiful to his ears…

In all the years he’d known you, he rarely ever heard a genuine laugh, a guffaw or an eruption of amused cackling. He always thought you were a snickering or a scoffing type.

…In all honesty, the sound of your laugh was almost more damaging than a stop sign to his face.

“I actually managed to immortalize that face you made into the sign! Definitely going into my stop sign collection!” You laughed out, wiping a tear from your eye.

Your comment luckily broke him out of his smiling stupor.

“H-Hey, I do not make that kind of face during battle…”

“The sign says otherwise.” You said while getting control of your laughter.

All Might’s face was slightly flushed as he internally pouted at you but still kept his signature smile on.

“Well… that’s obviously not my normal look!” He protested before turning to a more playful tone.

“…Though you must admit, that is a lovely face, even imprinted into a sign like that. I can see why you’d want to keep it, Havoc.” He said with a cheeky lilt to his tone, trying to tease you back.

You smirked and brought the dented part down to your face to study it.

“…actually, you’re right… even caught that beautiful jawline of yours.” You said before lifting your free hand up to tug at your mask.

You pulled the mask down, and for the first time in 15 years, you exposed your lower face to All Might and the crowd.

All Might’s eyes went the size of saucers.

He was finally getting to see your face. He had been yearning to know what you looked like beneath that hideous mask of yours for years.

A little part of him had hoped you would unveil yourself to him in battle for years, yet here you were actually doing it, Freezing the hero from disbelief and awe.

The audience had gone dead silent at the sight of your revealed face, and more than one fan was filming the historic moment.

… and It was about to get more historical… cuz you lifted the All Might face dent and gave it a little kiss before lifting the mask back over your lower face.

It was almost like a scene from a film, except it wasn’t scripted at all.

All Might’s jaw had dropped to the floor the moment you kissed the imprint, but the realization of what had just happened didn’t sink in until your mask was over your face again.

Everyone in the audience was stunned, and for a moment, no one uttered a breath. The silence was so loud, you could hear a pen hit the ground.

Then the crowd roared.

The collective roar and screams of the audience were deafening, and they rang in the ears of both the hero and the villain.

All Might was still staring at you in disbelief, a bright red blush spreading over his face.

As was expected of people who were witnessing such a sight, the fans had their phones out and were taking pictures at record speed. One or two people were actually full on crying with tears of joy.

You stared back at All Might with an amused and mischievous look in your eye as the crowd and potentially the whole world were collectively losing their mind.

All Might tried desperately to find words to say, but he was so stunned that he couldn’t even process his thoughts.

The hero’s brain had short circuited and his jaw was hanging open. All he could do was gape at you while the people in the background were gushing and crying and screaming about a number one ship in history being finally confirmed.

But then, he quickly realized that he was just standing there like a fish out of water, and there are cameras surrounding both of them, filming the whole scene.

He quickly schooled his features and placed his hands on his hips and lifted his head.

“O-OKAY, LET’S BE CALM ABOUT THIS!” he bellowed, but the fans were still making sounds like they just won the lottery.

At this, he groaned in frustration and pinched the bridge of his nose again.

He didn’t know what to do anymore. This was the worst. The fans are going to make this moment in history live on forever.

He finally removed his hand from his face and shot you a look.

“You did that on purpose….” he muttered to you.

“Oh did I?” You asked innocently while holding a dark gloved hand up to your masked face and kicking a foot up behind you.

All Might squinted his eyes at you in annoyance.

“Don’t give me that, you knew exactly what you were doing…” He grumbled.

The audience was still going berserk, cameras were flashing from all sides. The former hero was just so over it at this point.

You snickered like a little vixen while still holding your hand to your masked face. He was slowly getting more and more irritated at how amused you looked.

“…Why did you even do that!?” He demanded with a shaky tone.

The crowd was still hooting and whistling in the background, but All Might didn’t care, his focus was completely on you.

You simply shrugged.

“Sorry, my dear~” you purred out, using the pet name he used for you using your strength-based quirk to jump off to somewhere else, leaving All Might to deal with the damaged building and the crowd of shocked and excited bystanders… and a news helicopter.

All Might was so too caught off guard by his own pet-name being used against him that he forgot to give chase to you.

He eventually came to his senses and whipped around to search for you in the sky, but you were long gone by now.

Groaning and pinching his nose for the 5th… 6th time? 10th? The hero turned back to the aftermath of the confrontation and was immediately bombarded by the fans who were clambering around him.

That night…

Yagi Toshinori *hated* paperwork.

At this point, he was used to doing excessive amounts of paperwork, so he was able to get through it all rather quickly.

But today’s paperwork involved the entire incident that had occurred between you and him. His hands were cramping up from signing forms and writing down details of your little escapade.

He was just scribbling away as the TV played in the background, playing today’s news. And of course, the entire day’s events featured heavily on tonight’s broadcast.

Yagi lifted his head to take a break and watch the replay of the confrontation on the newscast. Once again, he was met with seeing himself standing on the battlefield with his jaw on the floor as cameras captured your little… display.

Immediately, he groaned and put his head down on the desk with a thump, mumbling into the wood.

“I actually can’t believe it, she really just made it known to everyone!” The news reporter said a little too excitedly for someone who’s supposed to be unbiased.

The news reporter had obviously been waiting for this moment her whole career. She was acting like a fangirl, which in a way, was very realistic of her since many people would react the exact same way.

“Who would’ve ever thought that the number one hero or number one villain would actually have some kind of affection for each other? Could it even be love?”

Toshinori was just sitting there, face on the desk, listening to the broadcast as his now deflated, fluffy hair draped over his desk.

The news reporters continued to talk about what had happened, but something said by the man reporter caught his attention.

”It’s been 15 years, today marking the 15th anniversary of All Might’s and Highland Havoc’s rivalry… it’s about damn time.” The older news reporter, a 50 year old man, said.

“Daikaku, you shouldn’t swear, we’re on live tv.” The younger news reporter said with a hint of worry.

But All Might didn’t focus on that…

15 years. 15 years of you being his nemesis…

He hadn’t even realized that it had already been that long. And he hadn’t realized that he had feelings for you for 90% of that time… that was… a really long time.

The news broadcaster interrupted the former heroes thoughts when the subject was changed to an All Might fan.

“Let’s listen now to what the fans have to say about the incident that unfolded in today’s fight.”

All Might groaned when he heard that. He just knew the first fan they were going to show was going to be an overly obsessed and delusional fan. And of course, that is exactly what he got.

“I CALLED IT! I KNEW the two of them have been dating in secret for YEARS!!” The first fan cried out through one of the speakers of the call, clearly a child.

All Might was so over it. He wanted to bang his head on the desk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yes. That fan at the end is 100% Midoriya.

This takes place 3 years before All Might meets Midoriya, which means he’s 11 and All Might is 46.

Let me know how well I did and if you’d like more 👍👍👍👍

…or don’t. I’m planning on making a lil series anyways, like it or not.

#mha x reader #mha #all might #yagi toshinori #toshinori yagi x reader #all might x reader #y/n #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n

110 notes · View notes

ldknightshade · 10 months ago

Text

how to write a morally grey character (and keep them from being a total bore)

so. your other characters have a “clear” distinction of good and evil - that is, from your perspective, your other characters have a distinction of good and evil that aligns with your own and would generally be considered by societal standards to fall under one of two groups… but now you want to make a guy that breaks those boundaries.

look no further.

i. myths

first step is giving them a balance of good and bad traits

1. every character should have this???

2. every trait works on a sliding scale; when amped up to 11, good traits can become bad ones

those who are morally grey are unpredictable

to YOU and those they interact with, maybe… if they do not have a clear moral code of their own, of course they’ll seem this way. but they’re actually quite predictable if you actually comprehend what their motives and values are.

example: Herbert West from Re-Animator’s only motivation is re-animation of the dead. this may be evil to some, noble to others… but is it unpredictable? not really. i think we all know not to trust this man around corpses.

example: Charles Foster Offdensen from Metalocalypse’s only motivation is ensuring the health, safety, and happiness of Dethklok. he goes incredible lengths (war crimes, literally) to do so; this is evil to some, noble to others… but it he unpredictable? not really. if Dethklok is in danger, then he has dropped everything to save them and is doing so as we speak.

they’re relatable / more human

see above examples. moral greyness is not inherently relatable; in some cases, it would be argued that they shouldn’t be. either way, their moral greyness does not make them any more or less human than any other character. their moral greyness makes them morally grey and that’s that.

you need to show them doing both good things and bad things

wrong. you need to show them doing things that align with their personal motivations and values. if your character wouldn’t do it, why force it? this goes both ways.

they need to be sympathetic / have understandable reasons

anyone saying this is afraid of making characters truly morally grey. sympathy is not something that defines morals, anyway; but regardless, sugarcoating their actions and motives by making them a poor little meow meow on purpose is… bullshit. if every morally grey character was sympathetic, fiction as a whole would be dull.

ii. values

this is the real meat of it. what does your character value? is it something practical, like revenge or power? or something wackier like the previously mentioned examples?

clearly define the values your character holds and how it shapes their goals.

iii. motivation / lengths

now… how hard does motivation hit them? how far do they go? where do they draw the line? is there a line for them?

would your character lie to meet their goals? cheat? steal? manipulate? maim? vandalize? kill?

even amongst those, is there specific lines they won’t cross? would your character go as far as killing, but draw the line at children and animals?

and amongst those lines… what would make them cross it? does your character value honesty, but would lie to protect someone? are they a pacifist… but believe followers of certain schools of thought deserve a baseball to kneecaps and won’t hesitate to act on that?

draw out the line for them and then examine their exceptions. this is what will make it seem to other characters that their morality is a roulette wheel; when, in actuality, there is a line of logic that your morally grey character is following.

#ldknightshade.txt #writing #on writing #creative writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writers #writing advice #writing help #writing tips #writing inspiration

321 notes · View notes

uhhlifeig · 14 days ago

Text

First Dance - Jan. 22nd - word count: 396 - @wolfstarmicrofic

Remus swirled the champagne in his flute nervously as he stood at the edge of an opulent ballroom.

He did not belong there; he was only at the ball to keep an eye on King and Queen Black and report back to the Order.

“Hey,” a voice said behind him, effectively startling Remus out of his thoughts. He turned around, only to be practically nose-to-nose with the older Prince Black.

“O-oh, hello, your majesty,” Remus forced out. “Do you need anything?”

“Oh please,” he waved his hand dismissively. “No need for that. I’m no prince- I’m just Sirius. What’s your name?”

“Remus. Nice to meet you, Just Sirius,” he smirked playfully.

Sirius barked out a laugh. “Oh, you’re funny. And cute, too.” He winked at Remus, who felt himself blush.

“Well, you’re not looking too bad yourself, Sirius.” Now it was Sirius’s turn to blush, turning a pretty pale shade of pink. He fanned his face like a true noble did, Remus noted.

Then Sirius cleared his throat. “Say, Remus… can I have this dance? Everyone else here is a gold-digging prick, so…”

“Well, I don’t much know how to dance,” Remus shrugged.

(Actually, that was a total lie. He had been coached in ballroom dances since he joined the Order for this reason exactly.)

“That’s fine,” Sirius grinned. “I can teach you.” He took Remus by the hand, gliding onto the dance floor and effortlessly blending in with the crowd of nobles.

“Here,” he said, putting Remus’s hand on his shoulder. “I’ll lead.” He guided Remus into a beautiful waltz, twirling around and around effortlessly.

Remus smiled as they slowed down and made it back over to the refreshments table. He was beginning to feel comfortable, but then Lily, disguised as a serving-girl, came up to him to refill his flute.

“They’re on the move,” she whispered.

Remus frowned, and upon looking at a confused Sirius, he made a decision. He shot him an apologetic glance and made for the door.

“Ask for Ariana Dumbledore in the kitchens if you want to talk to me again,” Remus whispered to Sirius as he brushed past him.

He thought that Sirius hadn’t heard, but he called for Remus just a year later.

“Can you get me out of here?” he asked upon seeing Remus for the second time.

“Of course,” Remus replied. “Anything for you, Just Sirius.”

83 notes · View notes

verbenaa · 4 months ago

Text

silver and silk | kinktober 2024

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Astarion/F!Tav 𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔: E 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 4.0k 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: cunnilingus, choking/erotic asphyxiation, piv sex, safe words/gestures, Dom/sub undertones, the hint of a breeding kink, formal wear, rough sex

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: “And we, my dear, have some very urgent business to attend to.” His expression is nothing short of devilish as he practically pushes her inside of the tiny closet and shuts the door behind them both, only waiting a mere moment before wrapping his arms around her waist and lowering his lips to her neck.

“Urgent, Astarion?” She rolls her eyes despite the loosening of her limbs underneath the feeling of his lips kissing down over her collarbone, mouthing at the exposed cleavage of her breasts before he lowers himself to the floor in front of her.

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

In which Astarion finds it in his heart to help Rin work off some of her frustrations in a variety of ways.

𝒶/𝓃: hellooooo! this is my first piece for this year's kinktober! I'm only writing a few of these due to limited time unfortunately, but this is the first one up. I'm not really working from any real prompt list or anything, and instead I just played around with a few ideas that I felt like fit with the reason of the season 🤭

This fic features my tav Rin, a half-elf bard, who I write about in my longfic to eden. You don't need to read that in order to enjoy this (but I obviously think you should, duh) because she's a total hottie that doesn't know how to shut up 💖 let me know what you all think in the comments either here or on ao3 and reblogs make me cry with happiness ❤️ enjoyyyy 🎃

read on ao3 | masterlist | to eden link

The scrape of embroidery from Astarion’s doublet against the bared skin of Rin’s shoulders is a small price to pay—a necessary discomfort, so to speak—for a tiny piece of stolen joy on a night like tonight.

Gods, she hated these events.

When she had saved the world, she hadn’t realized one of the direct results of it would be having to attend things like this—boring galas with drunken patriars, dusty bureaucrats, and simpering ladies who fawned over and gawked at her in equal measure, as though she were some creature meant to be kept behind a wall of glass to be studied for her strangeness or her unerring charm or whatever the hells other attribute it was they wanted to ascribe to her.

And Rin supposes that, to them, perhaps she was strange and charming.

After all, it was no noble knight or magnificent wizard who had led them to victory. It was simply her—a half-rate bard with a decidedly questionable skillset born from no one in particular, like so many others in the depths of the Lower City.

It had been fun at first, when she thought about the fact that it was not someone from a storied family who had saved them all, but instead someone without a last name who couldn’t even pay her rent every month and survived on cheap tavern wine and bread, not to mention her penchant for cheating at card games.

She had tired of it all after the third or fourth party, of course; niceties from people who would have rather let her die in a ditch than to have been bothered to afford her a single copper as a child falling terribly flat, and by now Rin was downright bored of it.

Even with her dearest’s presence by her side—Astarion’s arm wrapped through her own all evening as they made rounds around the ballroom and danced waltz after waltz, dressed in his finery with its elegant beading and metallic stitching shining in the candlelight—Rin was thoroughly at the end of her rope.

Astarion had dragged her inside of this tiny closet not terribly long ago, sensing the irritation building in her chest that was becoming harder and harder to hide with every sip of wine she drank, exhausted of donning the usual easy and unbothered facade she typically puts forth so gracefully during these sorts of things.

But not even the glittering candlelight, beautiful music, and expensive wine could soothe her simmering agitation, and so he took it upon himself to soothe it for her.

Rin will always remember his completely selfless kindness when she thinks back on it; it must have been terribly hard, after all, for him to have decided to steal away with her into some random closet.

Astarion grabs her hand within his and leads her away from the ballroom without a word, traipsing with her down hallways this way and that before they come across a locked door. Rin’s not entirely sure how he knew about it—or maybe it’s nothing but luck on his part—but within seconds Astarion has a lock pick in hand and the door is opened, the mechanism clearly no match against him.

“And we, my dear, have some very urgent business to attend to.” His expression is nothing short of devilish as he practically pushes her inside of the tiny closet and shuts the door behind them both, only waiting a mere moment before wrapping his arms around her waist and lowering his lips to her neck.

“Yes, terribly urgent.” He’s on his knees now, busy pressing searing kisses to the skin of her lower stomach as his hands find her hips and urge her to turn around.

Rin needs little direction, spinning to face the shelf behind her without complaint as Astarion’s hands begin to pull the skirt of her dress up.

“You see, it’s come to my attention that my dear, sweet wife has run out of patience tonight. I’m only doing my job as a wonderful, doting husband to help relieve some stress.”

“How charitable of you,” She says wryly.

The sight of Astarion on his knees will always be one that begins to kindle that familiar flame of heat deep in her belly; a flame that’s only ignited hotter by the sensation of his fingertips trailing up the inside of her leg.

“Incredibly.” He doesn’t bother to remove her underwear when his hands reach the apex of her thighs, simply pushing the gusset of it to the side with his fingers to make room for his mouth, wasting no time as he buries his tongue inside her core and lets his fingers round on her clit.

Rin comes in what feels like record time on his lips, the sounds of her cries muffled against her palm as she leans against the shelf in front of her, careful not to rattle the silver as her body shakes.

Astarion’s mouth glistens with her spend when he rises from behind her, unbuttoning his pants with a fluid flick of his wrist and freeing his cock from the confines of his underwear before filling her in a single stroke, her body still working through the aftershocks of her orgasm as he hilts himself inside her.

Which is exactly how Rin found herself here, fingers still grasping onto the very same wooden shelf and hoping dearly that no one outside of the small silver closet they stole away into can hear the slight metallic clink of the metal goblets and dishes every time Astarion thrusts into her from behind.

He has her bent, her ass jutting out towards his hips as the beautiful gown that he had lovingly designed to fit her every curve is pushed up around her waist in a mess of silk and embroidered tulle. The soft edge of the panties she wore—also designed by him and decidedly more fun to be fit for as he had double-checked his measurements—rubbing against every inch of his cock as he moves.

“Don’t you dare mess up my hair, Astarion.” Rin whips a glance behind her to where Astarion stands, one of his hands sneaking up from its place at her hips with fingers trailing towards the back of her neck as it searches to bury itself into her intricate updo, unruly dark blonde curls all twisted together and held with emerald-studded pins. “It took far too long to get it look like that and I will not be redoing it.”

“But sweetheart, I need something to hold onto,” Astarion mockingly whines into her ear as he thrusts particularly hard, hitting the end of her cunt. Rin barely withholds the moan that threatens to rip free from her lips, her fingertips gripping the shelf in front of her tighter.

She rolls her hips into his, trying to take him deeper. “You can hold onto it when you fuck me again later tonight, if you’re so desperate to touch it. In fact, Astarion, I’ll even give you full permission to ruin it.”

“‘Later tonight’?” He hits that same spot again, and this time she doesn’t hold back the soft moan that escapes her lips. “My, you’re simply insatiable, darling, if you’re already thinking about me fucking you again.”

Rin can hear the smirk in his words and doesn’t need to turn around in order to see it but she does anyway, swiveling her head to glance back at the look of pure arrogance decorating his temptingly plush lips.

“If you’re in need for something to hold onto, dear husband, you can just hold right here instead.” Rin guides the hand currently running cool fingertips teasingly up and down the nape of her neck around to the front, settling it along the line of her throat.

Astarion’s hips slow to a stop as he closes his hand softly around the elegant column of her neck before running his thumb in a soft touch over her skin, keeping his length still buried deep inside her.

“My, what a mood you are in, love.” His voice darkens as he caresses her neck, running his fingers across a set of lovingly made scars that decorate the side of it.

“Make sure I feel it. You can do that, can’t you?” Her hand is still wrapped around the back of his, and she squeezes it slightly to make sure that Astarion fully understands her point.

Thankfully, he’s a quick study and he tightens his grip infinitesimally, dragging her deeper onto his cock with the other hand still grasping at her hip.

“Oh, I’ll do anything for you.” Astarion leans in as he’s fully seated inside of her, letting his lips wander across her rouged cheek as his thumb presses in on her windpipe, nothing about the touch sweet or delicate.

It’s perfect.

“Good. Now move,” Rin rasps as she bucks her hips, urging him to give her more as his lips brush along the side of her face—pressing kisses to her temple, the corner of her painted lips, the freckles that dot over her cheeks.

“Is that how you want it then, my sweet? Does my love want it hard?” He has the nerve to practically snicker in her ear as he teases her, the bastard.

He’s lucky she loves him for it.

“I want it as hard as you can give it.” She grinds herself against his still hips, relishing the soft moan that escapes from his mouth at the movement. “Provided you can, of course.”

“Are you questioning my abilities, darling?”

“I would never dare to do such a thing.”

“A pity, because if you were I’d simply have to show you the full extent of them. I’d have you crying for your release later tonight, my sweet, while I pleasured you senseless in an attempt to show you everything I’m capable of.”

“Please,” She begs for it on a breathy gasp, the picture painted in her mind by those words one she finds incredibly tempting.

Once upon a time, she would have hated the sound of that word escaping her lips, but now she finds she doesn’t quite mind when it slips past her defenses to fall upon Astarion’s elegantly jeweled ears.

“Gods, I love it when you’re like this,” Astarion practically moans into her ear, his cock twitching inside her as he holds her still. “So terribly desperate and needy.”

Rin leans into his the touch of his lips against the soft point of her ear as much as she can with his hand still wrapped around her neck, no longer quite so bothered by the potential of a ruined updo as she sighs, “I learned from the best.”

Finally, Astarion begins to move in long, slow draws of his length against her walls, almost pulling himself out of her each time before pushing himself back in, filling her inch by inch.

“Do remember to tap my hand if it becomes too much. Are we clear, darling?”

Rin grinds against him again, eager for him to finally fucking move. “Like crystal, love.”

She can just barely make out the wolfish grin on his lips in the darkness as his hips find a slow rhythm, rocking into her gently as his hand tightens around her neck again.

It’s not enough to really hurt—never enough to truly cause her any sort of pain or injury—but it’s just enough so that she can feel the precious air in her lungs become harder to access, making it the tiniest bit harder to breathe.

Astarion was perhaps many things, but he was nothing if not careful in moments like these ones, where they played with the heady combination of pain and pleasure, always perfectly aware of her limits as much as his own.

He drops a kiss onto the shell of her ear before nipping at it, grazing the sharp point of his fangs across the sensitive skin. She whines at the feeling and he’s quick to shush her, the hand on her hip swatting at her behind in a quick spank that has her hips jumping.

“I’m going to have to shove my handkerchief into that pretty little mouth of yours, darling, if you can’t be quiet. Although, I think you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Rin winks back at him in response, biting her lip against the light pressure Astarion puts on her neck while she answers every one of his slow thrusts with a roll of her hips.

“You absolute freak.” His pace begins to speed up—no longer that slow, casual slide of his cock inside her, replacing it with increasingly punishing thrusts that has their skin meeting together audibly in the silence of the closet.

Her emerald eyes are gleaming in the darkness as Astarion tightens his grip on her neck on a particularly deep thrust that has another ragged moan breaking free from her lips. “Takes one to know one.”

Astarion drives into her hard and fast, that one hand around her neck squeezing just enough to have more heat surging through her body, driving her higher and higher with every movement of his hips.

She’s at his mercy and she loves every minute of it as he fucks her just as she had wanted, chasing every thought out of her mind that didn’t revolve around him.

“I’m going to fuck you full of my come and you’re going to love every minute of it, aren’t you?” His hips collide roughly with her own as he whispers low into her ear, the words sending a bolt of pleasure straight to her center.

Rin nods as she meets his thrusts, the hand on her neck tight as she manages the thought to speak a single word. “Yes.”

“Say that you want it, darling.” He loosens his grip just slightly so that she can speak easier, a rush of air whooshing into her lungs as she takes it in on a gasped breath.

She’s barely thinking coherently when she sighs the words he wants to hear, every one of them uttered only fuel for the want burning inside her. “I want it. I want your come, Astarion.”

The hand on her hip curls around her front, fingertips dragging as they explore the skin of her stomach before dipping lower.

Rin moans when the coolness of his skin meets her clit, Astarion running his fingers over it with a teasing brush before moving them lower to collect some of the wetness from where they are joined together.

“Tell me that you want me to fill your tight, perfect cunt up with it.”

He returns his fingers up to round on the pearl at the top of her folds, her body shaking around him as the pleasure builds and builds and builds under his care.

“Please, Astarion. Fill up my cunt with your come, fuck me full of it. Whatever you want, I’ll take it all.”

She should be embarrassed by the words she’s babbling, but she’s far from feeling ashamed by them as they leave her lips. She’ll gladly take whatever he wants to give her—anything—as long as it’s from him.

“I know you will, my love.” He bestows another kiss against her temple, lips lingering over her skin as his cock brushes against that special place inside her with every thrust as his thumb presses harder into her neck again. “Now, be a good girl and come for me.”

She tightens around him as he circles her clit faster, his length hitting perfectly inside her every time. Astarion’s determined to send her over the edge and draw her orgasm from her with the way he’s fucking her, and she’s more than willing to oblige him.

All it takes is a few more thrusts and she’s lost to the euphoria, careening into her pleasure as she comes, her body tightening around him. It sends a wave of heat through her veins, her body shaking as she cries out at the feeling.

She barely remembers to move her hand from atop his to cover her mouth, absently thanking all those months they spent fucking in camp years ago where she learned to quiet her cries as she presses her lips into her palm and moans her pleasure into it.

Her hips writhe, Astarion working her through it with his fingers still turning circles on her clit as his cock hits perfectly inside her, pleasure practically whiting out her mind with the pure feeling of it all.

She’s only just coming back down from her high when she hears Astarion’s moans turning increasingly desperate, his hips rutting into hers in a frenzy.

“Fuck, Rin,” Astarion swears as he loses his rhythm, thrusts growing faster. “I’m going to come, sweetheart.”

“Gods, please, Astarion. Come inside me,” She moans in response, squeezing herself around him one last time as he sucks in a breath.

He hilts himself as deep as he can on one last thrust as his orgasm hits, his hand falling from her neck to instead reach out to grasp at one of the shelves in front of them as he spills himself deep inside her warmth.

Astarion buries his face into her neck, the scent of her sweet perfume surrounding him as he lets his moans muffle into her skin as his hips rut into hers.

The satisfaction she feels as he comes inside her is yet another thing she should probably feel some sort of shame about; though she can’t seem to find it in her to care as his hips still press into her own, luxuriating in the warmth that blooms inside her chest instead as she smiles, still stuck in the dreamy haze of the afterglow.

He murmurs stray words of affection against her as he comes down and his hips finally slow—whispering his love in between the kisses he presses to her neck and shoulder as his hand slips away from her center to wrap around her waist instead.

He’s saying something to her in Elvish that she can barely make out in the midst of her own exhaustion, the feeling of his cool cheek brushing against her overheated skin a balm as he presses another kiss to her shoulder, sending a shiver through her overwrought body.

“I know you’re alive because I can hear your heartbeat, but do speak up so I can know you’re alright, darling.”

Rin manages a dazed chuckle, squeezing his hand where it drapes around her waist. “I can confirm that I am still breathing for the moment, at least. But if I were to have died, that wouldn’t have been a bad way to go.”

“Undoubtedly. But I am very much glad you shall live on for another day.” He presses one last kiss to her neck, right over a set of scars, before rising to his full height behind her.

He pulls his softening cock out of her, his come seconds from dribbling down her legs when he brings his fingers down, swiping at his spend where it threatens to spread onto her folds.

Slowly, Astarion pushes his come back inside her as she moans low, limbs tightening at the feeling of his fingers moving deep.

He brushes a kiss to her cheek as he teasingly curls them once inside her, having the audacity to chuckle at the way her body pulses around him. “Keep it, won’t you?”

“Gods, Astarion,” Rin groans as his fingers retreat and he secures the gusset of her underwear back over her with a little pat before he steps back. “Have I ever told you that you’re really something else, sometimes?”

“Plenty of times. And I never tire of hearing it, my love.” His handkerchief materializes in his hand as he cleans his fingers before tucking himself back into his pants and buttoning himself back up with more grace than she certainly possesses after their little escapade.

Hells, they were going to have to leave this closet soon and assess the damage done to their carefully made up visages. Rin’s confident her hair survived, if a little more mussed than it was, but the same cannot likely be said for her makeup.

With any luck none of it will have migrated, at the very least saving her the embarrassment of looking like a fancily dressed circus clown.

Rin rights herself, ignoring the heat already sneaking to her cheeks at the knowledge that when she walks out of here, there will be no mistaking the activities they had just engaged in.

Especially with Astarion’s come now seeping into her panties, the scent of him inescapable as it mingles with her own.

“What do you say to one more glass of free wine and then we sneak out of here without saying goodbye to anyone?” She fluffs the skirt of her dress as Astarion reaches out to fix the neckline, pulled a little too low on her breasts for her own comfort.

“And deprive Florrick and Ravengard of their goodbye from our beautiful and heroic bard?” Astarion says, aghast.

Rin whacks him playfully on the chest, shooting him a smile as she checks the pins in her hair.

“Ravengard is boring and Florrick is drunk, and if I have to hear either of them wax on about the Flaming Fist one more time tonight I may suffer psychological injury.”

“Alright, darling, you win. One more glass of wine and then we hope to never see these people again.”

They most certainly will have to see these people again, but was the point of being a good liar if you couldn’t even deceive yourself for a single evening?

“Maybe they’ll forget all about us and stop inviting us to these things, if we’re lucky.” Rin runs her hands through his hair, pushing fallen strands back into place before standing up on her tip toes to press a kiss to his lips.

Astarion happily returns it, his lips pulling into a smile as he kisses her back with a contented hum.

His arm loops around her, settling his hand on her lower back as he opens the door and peeks his head outside before ushering them both out of the closet, securing the door with a quiet click before they set back down the hallway.

Rin notices light from a nearby candelabra shining off of something in Astarion’s other hand, the color that of silver illuminated to a burnished gold in the flickering flames.

“Astarion, did you steal something from that closet?” She rolls her eyes before she shoots him a look of reproach for good measure. “You’ve got to stop stealing from people’s houses. It’s bad form.”

Astarion smirks proudly as he brandishes a set of silver spoons, both intricately patterned on the handles and easily worth a small fortune in gold coin.

“But darling, I thought you never wanted to be invited back?” He spins them between his nimble fingers with ease, a blur of metal twirling in the light that her eyes can barely follow the motion of.

She should probably tell him to go put them back. It would be very bad for her to turn a blind eye and continue to allow him to so blatantly commit thievery, wouldn’t it?

She was a hero, after all. Or at least, that’s what they liked to call her.

But when had Rin ever cared much for laws or rules? It wasn’t like they’d even notice two missing spoons in an entire closet full of silver, honestly.

Frankly, Astarion could have stolen much more, now that she thinks about it.

“Fine, steal the spoons, what do I care? While you’re at it, maybe go for a bottle of wine from behind the bar, too?”

“A woman after my own heart,” Astarion sighs dramatically before pocketing his new treasures, swooping down to press a kiss to Rin’s cheek one last time before they enter the ballroom. “Your wish is my command, my sweet.”

Her eyes cut to his as they step into the cavernous room, glittering with mischief of her own as she raises a brow in challenge.

“Don’t forget to make it an expensive one.”

#astarion x tav #astarion x f!tav #astarion x female tav #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fanfiction #astarion smut #kinktober #bg3 kinktober #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #astarion fics #astarion fic

115 notes · View notes

chihoshisai · 1 month ago

Text

Double Arrangement

Sabo x Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

cw : royalty au, strangers to lovers, arranged/political engagement, reader is royalty, sabo is cold (but will warm up over time through chapters) // wc : 5.5k words // a/n : happy new year !! I sort of dissapeared due to mental health which makes it hard to write, but i have the entire outline of this fic figured out until the end so I guarantee I'm planning on finishing it despite the timelapses. thank you for your patience as a reader ♡

tags : @ozzities

Part 5

"Your highness with all due respect you have been here all morning,” the subtle worried voice of the castle’s nurse Kobato floated over your head, contrasting with the intricate design of the ceiling you laid eyes upon.

"I cannot stand to stay in the room in which I spent an eternity getting ready yesterday,” you answered to her woes but not without accompanying it with a sigh. Your room was never a place for privacy, nowhere in the castle totally was for that matter.

Your fingers that rested along your abdomen started fiddling with one another due to memories of an eventful night that far from left you unbothered. If the guest’s behavior had caused the hamster in your brain to spin, then Sabo’s words and gestures had kept you awake with a rapid heartbeat. So sincere, so delicate ; a sight and feelings you ceaselessly relinquished by replaying each moment.

"I see,” Kobato’s words brought your thoughts back to the room. Furtively glancing in her direction with interest, you couldn't help but feel sour at the way in which her eyebrows furrowed with a tinge of understandable pity.

As such, your gaze sought the emotionless comfort of the ceiling once more. "I have become the laughingstock of not only the nobles but the servants as well,” you bitterly said aloud mostly for yourself. Most likely as a way to sink that reality.

"Then perhaps some fresh air, away from all would do rather than confining yourself in a sterile, stiff hospital room.”

Your thoughts pondered on her words, a murmuring hum forming down your throat to find its way upwards, drawing your lips into a conspicuous smile. "Fresh air!” You sat on the bed, rowing your legs over the edge while directing your glee at the nurse. “Thank you Kobato!" Without further ado, you leaped over the floor in stride in search of none other than your younger brother.

--------------

“I need a favor,” you affirmed, standing close to the doorframe of the salon your sibling currently found himself in, engrossed behind a journal.

He pulled down his paper to give you raised eyebrows accompanied by a sly look. “That'll cost you.”

Of course it would.

“Not if it benefits you too,” you confidently assured him, casually strolling about the room, certain to catch your prey, until you found interest in sitting across from him in an armchair.

“Our interests can't possibly align,” your brother gave a scoff, visibly mocking your claim.

“Usually not, but this time I trust it will. I wish to visit the commoner's village.”

A pause, in which your sibling deadpanned stared at you ; upwards, downwards, and finding no shame in questioning the tangibility of your words. “What on earth could make you want to do such a thing? Are you cursed? Repenting?” His tone of voice sounded far from mocking but rather genuinely curious. And worried.

His reaction would have amused you if the reason behind your expressed curiosity wasn’t so serious. “Stop with the nonsensical questions. We both know you're the one who should be repenting,” you spewed back, slightly offended.

He tossed away the journal, like a distraction no longer worthy of his attention, to take on a more upright sitting position. “Okay, but what do you want from visiting such a foul place?”

“Says he, who spends an unholy amount of time there drinking and wallowing in adultery with no regard for consequences.” You rolled your eyes while he frowned at you. “Now take me there, I wish to see what the town looks like and how the people live there. I'm certain you must know your way.”

Your voice that avoided his question had taken on a more authoritative tone, putting aside all pleasantries, which enticed a defeated sigh from your younger sibling who resigned himself by sinking in his chair. “I'll still charge you though,” he reluctantly grumbled, looking elsewhere.

Satisfied, you nodded, glee hidden behind a simple demure smile and bending to his monetary whim. “Your fee will be given if your services are adequate.”

“I still expect to be paid even if you only take a single step out there,” his cocky voice mixed with the glint of distrust dared to ask as insurance.

It rubbed your ego the wrong way — to see this brat coddled and so used to have his way, much to your annoyance. “Deal,” you agreed, thinking of the bigger picture as more important than teaching this arrogant child that things don’t always go the way he desires.

“Now,” he got up. “Get ready to strip away your jewelry, clothes and vanilla, rose or whatever scented perfume you wear, to dress in rags.”

You sighed, having predicted as much. There was no walking around town in garments worth more than a whole street’s buildings combined, was there?

He pointed his chin in the direction for you to follow, the door, and yet again, resigned to his instruction, you walked. And to your surprise, he followed, making you realize he at least had a bit of courtesy in him as he opened the door in your honor.

What ensued would forever remain as a mystification in your mind. Your brother led you down the lowest levels and into the servant’s quarters ; seeking the aid of a particular butler, visibly used to such routine, both discussed briefly while you stood a few steps away, mostly overwhelmed by the drab looking place and the lack of fragrance from the air. Your eyes wandered, taking notice of the lack of light coming in such an enclosed area where the few servants who found their way in ushered quick curtseys at your sight but not without a hint of amusement hidden behind their eyes.

Another wave of shame hit you, silently and warmly, though suppressed for you had no choice but to not falter under what most would consider overthinking on your part.

Soon, your brother finished his chat with the butler and both of you were escorted in separate rooms. Keeping words of protest and questioning died down at your throat, you refrained all complaint even when you found yourself in a pocket-sized servant’s shared room, or when a maid entered, proposing a selection of monotone-looking colors ranging from gray, brown, black and green seemingly coming from her own wardrobe.

The allure of the room you stood in aside, you froze appalled ; at her offering, at the thought of putting someone else’s clothes — unwashed — and most importantly of having to be seen wearing such simplities by your own staff.

Nevertheless, refusal was not at your disposal. You gulped, feeling your heartbeat increase as the maid helped you out of your glittering garments. With a watchful eye you peeked as she deposited your gown onto one of the beds, feeling an ick stronger than your will form at the bottom of your stomach.

Without judgment, she helped you into the gloomy looking couture, as you held your breath under the increasing pounding of your brain. Even though similarities found themselves on both dresses, such as the corsets and long tulle petticoat, a bothersome itch crawled throughout your skin as you felt the fabric while your willpower was put into test as the whiff of it’s odor surrounded your own.

However, having to put on the clothes wasn’t the end of it. To your hidden horror, you gritted your teeth as your hair was being downed into a low messy braid, a scarf wrapped around your scalp to hide it’s unsoiled feature, and your simple makeup wiped away to be redone with atrocity for you barely recognized yourself ; overworked-looking citizen you had now become.

How and why people could possibly stand to live through their days in such garments, through such unwashed clothing, was beyond your imagination but not above your understanding, for you knew other options weren’t available to their hands.

Satisfied with her work, the maid bowed as you exited the door and rejoined your brother who to your surprise, was almost unrecognizable under a similar disguise. Ease coursed through you. What a relief to know that you weren’t screwed over with your get-up. As you looked him up and down with scrutinizing eyes, the attire indeed looked nothing far from rags. Despite this obvious fact, it far from prevented your brother’s demeanor from appearing proud and noble. And you envied him for being able to maintain his confidence, even if due to his habituation to such an act, while you anxiously joined your hands together.

“I’m surprised you went through with this process,” an acknowledging smile painted his features whilst he looked you up and down.

Turning a blind eye to the way he held you in low regards, you allowed your eyes to wander around in search for the next step. “I suppose you have an idea of how to proceed from then on?”

Seeing his taunt flaunted, your brother quickly abandoned his grin. “Yeah, just follow me.”

He walked past you, and left with no other option, you walked suit. Things proceeded quickly ; exiting the castle through servants exits, entering a wooden carriage with no house crest and ultimately making it out of the castle gates.

“If you wish to back down, now’s the time,” your brother advised. Sitting across from you with his arms folded, already bored from the ride. You knew, whether or not you were to falter here and now, he would not only proceed without you but ammunition to enhance his arrogance and his already declining perception of you would be given.

“Have you known me as the type to backtrack?” You asked, feeling the growing discomfort on your back through the carriage’s quality.

“Well, I suppose you have yet to prove otherwise,” he admitted with a shrug.

And that shut him up, for he looked past the window with increasing boredom. But you weren’t about to wallow in your own increasing anxiety without distraction.

“You will, I presume, stay by my side for the duration of this outing?”

His gaze remained on the outside. “Why should I? This wasn’t part of the deal. As I recall, it was to bring you on the outside only.”

“An outside which I know nothing of,” you reminded him sternly.

This had seemed to bring him to muse on your words, raising a hand to his chin to support his thoughts while you patiently waited, worried that pressing furthermore would bring about your doom.

In time, your brother squinted his eyes playfully, much to your anguish as you foresaw twisted enjoyment was brewing. His grin widened in unison to your thinning lips. “Seeing you act about in such an unfamiliar environment might just be the second greatest entertainment of this month.”

It felt insulting to see the laughingstock etiquette posed on your being persist to another day, yet rather than be at a loss, let alone in danger amongst your citizens, you resigned with a cold smile to have your sibling be the guide of the day.

Now having his word, you occupied yourself by staring out the window — the drab brown, gray and beige looking buildings in dubious condition filled your view. People dressed in similar apparel than yours walking about, smiles surprisingly painting their features despite their lack of luxury as they busied themselves through various daily tasks you weren't quite sure as to what they consisted of. The painted view made you realize the carriage had already left the town of the nobles, which you rarely visited in the past, to now enter the common people's town.

The carriage driver had the decency to let you off at a rather well-off neighborhood; houses of colors here and there, boutiques of all sorts and the buzz of a nearby market reaching your ears. Setting your first steps in what your brother described as a ‘plaza,’ most likely due to the fountain settled in the middle of the open area, what struck you first was the putrid air and smell that seemed to grasp and cling to the city, unwilling to let go. It took every ounce of your willpower to refrain from making a face, let alone reach for your nose in a gagging motion, fearing it may cast away your identity, as you found encouragement by watching your bother stand about perfectly fine. The sanitary state in which your people lived in had never been food for your thoughts until now, and frankly, it worried you to know people could live in such conditions.

“Well sister,” your brother began, keeping an annoyingly infuriating smirk on his lips. “Seeing as you've refrained from running back to the carriage, it's about time we start this tour.”

You nodded. “You better not pull anything funny.”

“Don't worry,” he started walking in a chosen direction, prompting you to follow his lead. “Watching you awkwardly manage yourself in this environment will be comedy enough,” and he snorted after most likely forming a mental image in his head, causing you to click your tongue subtly.

Following him was easy enough; he walked at a slow pace, putting names on various buildings, exhibited behaviors by people and the type of food sold. As such, focusing your attention mostly on the surroundings around him, your eyes, nose, ears, touch and taste were solicited — the way in which children ran about, without an ounce of manner riddled in them, the enticing smell of dishes clashing with the overall soiled air of town, the laughter and easygoing chatter of citizens and the touch of various brittle materials all surprised you.

What truly dawned on your mind was, throughout this variety of people none seemed to see offense in your awkward behavior sticking out of place ; as you frowned your eyebrows at certain sights or scrunched your nose upon trying new cuisine. And even when your polite mannerism and manner of speech accidentally slipped through, the citizens would laugh it off at your ‘trying to play a noble young lady’ act, assuring you that there was no such necessity. Their lassitude thankfully helped ease whatever pitch of worry that would worm its way to your chest at having your cover blown off. Meanwhile your brother viciously sneered and passed underhanded comments at every given opportunity served to him on a silver platter, and everytime you let him off free of charge seeing as he had done more than you had bargained for by making you avoid irrefutable mistakes.

The warmth emanating from your country's middle class made you realize how comfortable it was to be here despite how at odd from your typical gilded environment you felt. It reinforced your desire to stay, lest you forgo such a welcoming town for a more cold one. Walking along the streets, with no particular destination in mind, your brother searching for the next entertainment, it was with a rather stern gaze that you revisited dark memories of political times spent in the exact location you were to find yourself in if things were to fall through with Sabo. The Germa Kingdom. Simply recalling the unwelcoming, grim and judgemental atmosphere along with the vivid sensation of being overseas was enough to prevent you from digging deeper in your recollections and to distract yourself by taking interest in a rather grand standing building at the end of a road.

“Tell me, what is this building over there?” You asked, pointing a subtle finger at what seemed to be the most distinguished establishment to be seen.

“Oh this? Just a guild,” your brother replied with a disinterested shrug as he proceeded to explain its working process with adventurers and monetized missions along with its tavern and alliances with certain inns for lodging.

“How fascinating,” you exclaimed with genuine interest. “Let us take a look!” And you accelerated your pace to leave your brother no choice in the matter.

“Well, I suppose it's about time we chug down the alcohol,” he smirked, catching up to meet your disapproving gaze.

It took a few moments to arrive, and as you walked, sneaking looks through the glass windows to get a peek of the designed interior, the loud cheer and banter of a crowd reached your ears with the smell of cooked meat while the entrance door opened.

Suspecting an adventurer to exit, you eagerly brought your gaze back in front of you to admire what attire these members of society would clothe themselves in. However it was with a gasp that clogged at your throat that you found yourself stopping in your tracks, eyes widening while speaking aloud, “Sabo?”

Unconsciously, you felt your back straighten and your overall posture adjust in a more elegant manner than the one you had adopted until now to strut down the streets.

“Well would you look at this. If it isn't your fiance,” your brother who stood a few steps away spoke with undeniable snide, taking pleasure in the scene unfolding before his eyes. “Looks like coming here has proven to be worth it,” he murmured to himself.

Sabo worriedly seemed to be at a loss for words ; looking you up and down with a mixture of confusion and astonishment while his hand released the doorknob to let the door soundly fall shut behind him.

The act came to a standstill giving the perfect opportunity for your brain to run amok with the previous information he had told you about himself and the delight that flowed inside you into having found his secret place, and how accessible it was. As Sabo kept his lips firmly shut and your brother hid his silent glee behind a hand, it became more of a staring contest that lasted until a foreign voice coming from one side reached everyone's ears.

“Sabo!” You looked to take full view of a raven haired boy with freckles and an orange hat driving a wagon making his way to the door. “Work finished earlier than expected and I got gifted with so many freebies,” he waved a hand, showcasing a rather handsome smile that enhanced the birthmarks across his face.

The glue that seemed to have sealed Sabot's lips into a silence melted to give place to the most sincere and happy smile yet to be seen on his face. “Ace?!” And to your surprise, he even waved back.

As he was halfway inclined towards the newcomer, your eyebrows arched in confusion as you took in not only his body language but the softness and mellow behind his voice. One usually reserved for closed ones.

And yet, the foreign sound of something heavy being pulled reached your ears, as you grew uncomfortable under the rays of the sun that now started to prickle your skin that only now took notice of the heat and deemed it unreasonable.

Instinctively, you turned to the other side, watching a younger boy than the freckled one, with dark black hair still and a ridiculously contagious smile heave a bag of unknown content towards the guild.

“Sabo!” He enthusiastically waved a hand. “My hunt’s over, look at the huge haul I got!” He chuckled.

“Luffy?!” A genuine beam appeared on Sabot's face. One that made you fail to control the slight gaping of your mouth as you watched this ice cold man melt into another human being.

It made you realize that they were most likely the reason for Sabo's castaway ; they are the truth behind his love. Seeing him under this new light intrigued you further as to what laid hidden behind his character.

The one named Ace arrived first. “Oh? Are you two acquaintances of Sabo?” He got off from his carriage, giving a ‘good work’ pat to his horse while eyeing you with keen interest.

Flustered beyond what you could control, your eyelids rapidly flashed towards all standing present ; a silent cold sweat ran down hidden underneath your armpits as the perfect testament to a situation out of your expertise. “I suppose we are,” you breathed after a moment, fearing the atmosphere would grow into a deplorable suspicious one.

“Good riddance!” Ace smiled, letting go of the reign of his horse to head towards the content of his carriage. “You two are just in time,” as he spoke disappearing behind the cart, you shot a quick glance to your brother who remained intrigued with a smirk and to a Sabo who refrained from according you a single look, much to your disheartening. “You two can take this and help us unload!” Ace returned, shoving cardboard boxes in you and your sibling's arms. Your brother held his stance, but you wobbled a little under unimaginable weight ; forcing you to clench your jaw as your cheeks turned red from effort. Did people always carry such heavy load, you wondered, cursing your arms for their flimsy and expected delicacy. Having found balance, you looked at Ace with round eyes for further directions, still processing what was happening.

“Just carry these inside and hand them at the counter,” Ace used his thumb to point at the door. “Thanks for your help.”

Swept by the moment with no opening to speak with Sabo as he stepped to the side to allow you in by opening the door, you were forced to tread along the path the raven haired boy had asked of you to partake, your last vision being the younger one arriving last to the giddy greeting of the two others.

The inside of the guild proved rather impressive ; though wooden from floor to ceiling, from furniture to appliance, the merry atmosphere reigning in, glee and laughter of light-hearted conversations was enough to light the place into a welcoming one. Tables with benches were laid about in a random manner, a board containing what you recognized as the quests your brother spoke about, stairs leading to an invisible second floor and a large counter standing at the end of the room with a green haired lady wearing a bandana as an accessory behind it. Forgetting what ailed your arms in weight, you looked at the crowd with interest, and they in turn either ignored you or sullied your ears with improper banter you had never heard before. Lastly, the smell of food masking the one of sweat like a blanket contrasted with the foulness of the city while dancing with the ambience well.

“Never seen you here before, miss. Did you just get hired? Where'd you from? Want to grab a drink with me tonight?” A gruff man said, most likely drunk already by the empty glasses around him.

“Don't go out with him, come here instead you pretty little thing!” Another exclaimed.

Many such exclamations attracted the attention of your ears. Thin lips formed on your features, keeping your vision straight ahead, ignoring their banter and whistling as you were formally brought up to do rather than engage and encourage. What a way to ruin the first impression you got from the place. In due time, your footwork had led you to the expected place where the receptionist greeted you with a warm smile.

“Thank you.”

You slightly bowed your head to her in acknowledgement, watching as your brother deposed his content likewise.

“I'll charge you double after all,” he brought the buzzing of your mind to a halt, whispering by your side as the guild receptionist took the parcels.

You gave him a quick shush, massaging your shoulders burning with the aftermath of the labor. Deep down you wished for nothing more than a massage from one of your maids. A thought you suppressed, refusing to appear a hypocrite in your current standing. That was when Sabo and his two raven haired boys had entered the vicinity with as much joy that propagated all around, all heading to the counter. You edged closer to the side, dragging your sibling in your shadow, to allow them more ground over the counter.

“There you go Makino, this is the last of today's haul,” The boy you recognized as Luffy handed over his hunt.

“Thank you Luffy, I'll make something good out of it,” she smiled.

“In that case let's have a banquet!” The boy raised his hands in the air triumphantly, heading towards the center of the room as if used to being the life of the party. Such broad display of mannerism surprised you, but faithful to your role, you hid away all signs of it by the clench of your hands.

Ace laughed, leaning over the counter nonchalantly. “What occasion will it be this time?”

In your vision, their eyes met and the youngest exclaimed. “For finishing work early!”

“Luffy, the sun's still out, we can't possibly do that just yet!” Sabo, under a stern yet vibrant voice, came to scold Luffy. The contrast in the tone of reprimands he would give to you felt quite shocking. Subtly, the tightening pressure on your hands increased.

“Let's at the very least drink then. No harm in that right?” Ace slyly smirked, much to Sabo's deterrence seeing as he gave in through a smiling sigh.

Finally seemingly taking note of your presence, the blonde approached your vicinity with a serious expression that most likely wouldn't have its place here. “May I have a word?” He quietly asked you, nonetheless loud enough to pierce through the ears of your brother and the long haired one.

“Oh what's that? Disappearing for some intimate time? How unlike you, Sabo,” Ace snickered, much to the annoyance of your fiance. At that, you couldn't help but drop your gaze in self consciousness.

“Hey, you won't do anything inappropriate to tarnish her will you?” Your brother took on a rare protective tone that sent a small hope of safety within you.

Far from offended, Sabo looked him straight in the eye. “Of course not.”

“Then it's fine,” your younger blood relation turned away, having discarded away his suspicion, almost as if he considered he had done his part.

His sudden nonchalance irked your feelings ; you clicked your tongue in displeasure at him. “Learn to be more suspicious of others, you!” Was the reprimand you gave, but was met with a simple uncaring shrug.

“In anycase, drinking? Now we're talking,” Your brother's disinterest turned into that of keen enjoyment and he left your side, colliding with Ace ; the two bonding over who could hold down their liquor the longest.

Seeing them enter the brouhaha of the guild, you heaved a weary sigh, only just remembering what awaited you as Sabo cleared his throat. It was by exchanging a quick glance with his eyes, that your thoughts remembered you had yet to explain how and why you were here.

Sabo's features remained iron tight as he turned his back on you to lead the way, the same back you had once gazed at looked more distant than it did one night ago. Feeling burdened by what awaited, you followed and entered a small office, wood armoring not only its wall but the furniture likewise with no regard to the uniformity it provided. Never had you before seen a room with such an unvaried maroon color for a personal workplace.

However, your musing was soon cut short as Sabo turned on his heel, a visible darkness clouding his features. You felt a bitter taste rot in the darkest abyss of your mouth, anticipating another argument.

“I won't even ask you what you're doing here as I assume this is also a case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time?” It felt as though his tone tried peeling away layers of your defenses.

“Well,” unwilling to easily flail at his words, you shrugged a part of your shoulder. It wasn't entirely wrong.

“I would like more than a simple ‘Well.’ Explain yourself to me. How did you find this place? By running a background check on me?”

Lord, you almost wanted to gape your mouth at how far fetched his accusation reached. “What? A background check? Certainly not,” your expression twisted in a mixture of disgust at the thought before regaining its usual composure. “My curiosity for you does have depth but not enough to seek information about you behind your back.”

Seeing as Sabo remained quiet with doubtful eyes, you took it as a cue to continue. “Rather I desired to stroll down the streets in search of what could possibly have piqued your interest in this lifestyle. My brother showed me around, acting as my guide since due to personal reasons, he is familiar with the place. Ultimately I asked him about the purpose of this establishment, and as he talked me through it we walked nearby for a closer look, and there you were.”

Sabo heaved a sigh, stepping away to lean atop the only desk that rested in front of large windows.

“Was that too hard to believe?” You innocently crossed your arms together while raising an inquisitive eyebrow at him.

“No. I simply… I don't know how to feel. I'm conflicted,” he ran a hand through his hair, for once giving a full view of his usually curtained face, which left you to say the least not unaffected as you took in a deep breath.

You gave a snarky smile. “Would you have preferred I had run a background check on you?”

“Yeah,” he exasperatedly voiced, guilt giving aroma to his voice. “Would have made things far more easier,” he mumbled under his breath, looking away.

Seeing him cower at his wrongdoing, a subtle sense of confidence sparkled inside you, to edge you towards taking advantage of his low defenses. “I hope you won't disregard my efforts this time around.”

“No I won't. I can't,” Sabo shook his head. “Not when you took that much trouble to walk all the way down here, let alone help my brother out.”

“Brother?” Your eyes widened in alarm.

Sabo raised his head at you, showing a certain proud smile as he spoke. “Yeah, Ace and I are brothers of the same age while Luffy is our youngest one,” even if his contentment wasn't directed at you, your conscience still acknowledged it as the first smile he stretched your way today.

“I—” Your voice momentarily stuck in your throat following the racing of your mind. Many questions beginning with words such as how, why, when and what flooded it. You briefly considered the parents he lived with and yet you couldn't draw a proper conclusion. “I see…” you ultimately clumsily said by clearing your throat, for stuttering had been a nipped in the bud habit you weren't allowed to have.

“In anycase, I'm pleasantly surprised to see you here and to hear what you did. I must admit I never expected that of you and for that reason my opinion of you slightly increased.” This time, Sabo stretched his lips, not as affectionately as he did to his brothers, but enough to be categorized as a genuine.

“Oh.” Your mind, who had to slow down from its marathon to digest the information, delayed your proper reaction. “Well I'm glad to hear that,” timid hands rose to hide the overjoyed grin that bloomed on your face. “Perhaps you'll finally start to see me as more than a spoiled brat in a dress,” you gave a lighthearted chuckle, lowering the shield on your face to return a grateful smile.

“Perhaps,” Sabo curtly answered, feeding you yet again a spoonful of hope as his eyes lingered in yours before shattering it. “I think it's about time you leave.”

A part of you, relishing in the moment couldn't help but tease away at him some more. “We're legally and publicly engaged. Who cares if we spend five or twenty minutes away in a room together?” You spoke slowly, stretching the last words while you took furtive steps forwards, stopping only until the respectful distance had shortened into a reasonably intimate one. Nevertheless, one that didn't leave the impression your respective bubbles were invaded. “Or could it be that you're more prude than what you’ve displayed?” You teased with eye contact.

Seeing you lean your head to the side in a way that had most likely been rehearsed many times before, Sabo left behind his leaning against the desk's edge to glance down at you with his full height. “I meant that I have work to do,” he looked away, forcing you to revert to your proper composure.

“You're no fun, sparring no moment to those meaningless to you,” your lips subtly trembled while your eyes looked to the side. Your words were bittersweet, but your mind had already switched its gear to tinker in a self-sabotaging way for acting in such a foolish way.

“It's getting late, you should probably head back too,” he emotionlessly walked past you, which made you realize you might have gone ahead of yourself there.

“May I come back here?” You turned to ask him, the words bringing him to a halt.

Sabo turned his head in your direction, assessing you no doubts, before giving an answer. “I'll think about it.”

You thinned your lips in a stiff manner. His reply didn't hint towards a precise decision, yet there was no doubt it depended on the times you would share together on other occasions.

Silently, you made way to exit the door he held open for you to walk past, hearing its decisive closing noise in your ears once through it. Despite wanting to know, rather than secretly peek at Sabo's lone unfolding behavior in all his intimacy, you kept your head high and descended down the stairs to rejoin the lobby.

--------------

Ch. 6 in progress

41 notes · View notes