#ah yes the life package

[sarayu-sunrays]

hi bhagwan,,, do you think i can unsubscribe from this life package?? what do you mean cancellation fee??? what???

[xinganhao]

🥈 svt vs. reader's bad boyfriend.

anon → "could you do a post with one of the members getting after yn's bf because he thinks he's not treating her well enough?"

⌗ ┆i have a terrible feeling i might've misunderstood this req,, so please forgive me if i did lol ꒰ ꒡⌓꒡꒱

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: reader has a bad boyfriend, hurt/comfort, [light] angst, crack, cussing, [short] headcanons under the cut.

🥈 headcanons .ᐟ

— "break up with him now" ✩ junhui, soonyoung, wonwoo, minghao, vernon.

ah, yes. the trope of someone who will immediately insist that breaking up is the solution, although, in this case, it's completely warranted. soonyoung and minghao are the most vocal about you ending your relationship, but in their own little ways. for his part, soonyoung's a little annoying about it— you'll barely have explained your current predicament and he's already whining, "just break things off with him!" minghao, meanwhile, actually listens, but his expressions and consequent advice are brutal. he's always been no-bullshit when it comes to life, and so when he hears about all the things your boyfriend is doing/has done? he's actively advocating for you to get up and go. junhui's the type to take it out on your boyfriend. he's constantly threatening bodily harm and various other minor crimes against the poor guy, even though he doesn't really ever act on it. he is extra cold when he's in the other man's presence, to the point that your boyfriend may be under the impression that junhui hates him. (spoiler alert! jun does!) wonwoo isn't always vocal about his distaste; he's a little more backhanded/passive-aggressive about it. he's more of an actions guy, through and through. picking up the slack here and there to show you that your boyfriend is a dick for not doing things that your friends can. vernon also struggles a bit to get the right words out, so he just... says it as it is. he may look like he's packaging his advice as a joke, but he's 100% sincere when he sends you breakup playlists and reddit threads about ending things with your significant other. that's just his way of communicating it, really.

— "but are you okay?" ✩ seungcheol, joshua, mingyu, jihoon, seokmin, seungkwan.

for the most part, all the boys are the 'just-end-your-relationship-please' type, but there's also some who rely more on expression of concern. take mingyu, for example, whose chief endeavor will be to cheer you up. he'll leave sweet nothings and encouraging notes in hopes of lifting your mood; his eyes, constantly peeled to see how you're faring. you can rant in to the wee hours of the morning, and both seungkwan and joshua will listen. they'll let you tell the same old stories again and again; even if they half-joke that you just never listen to them, they're still there as a shoulder to cry on. seungkwan is more likely to give advice, while joshua's strength lies in non-judgmental indulgence. seokmin will make it his life's mission to distract you from the issue at hand. a movie night? a trip to an obscure café? if it will improve your mood in any way, shape, or form, he's already halfway there. he won't even mention your boyfriend, if you don't bring him up. seungcheol is similar to mingyu in the sense that he best expresses his concern through little encouraging gifts. he's not the type to push the envelope, to try and get you to talk when/if you're not ready, so he just communicates to you that he's there, when/if you need him. jihoon's also a bit unsure how to navigate a relationship that's not his. he can pick up how you're feeling, at the very least, and so he instead focuses on that. he's a quiet, steadfast presence who will take you to the gym or encourage you to write songs, if only because he thinks those might be potential solutions.

— "play stupid games, win stupid prizes" ✩ jeonghan, chan.

svt's petty line, how i love you so. they can all admittedly be petty when they want to be, but these two? they take the cake. jeonghan is a big believer in "show him what he's missing." he'll snap hot photos of you on your behalf. he'll let you use him as a nice little ploy to incite some jealousy. is it a little toxic, a bit red flag-y? sure, but that asshole is putting you through much worse. jeonghan's a firm believer that revenge is a dish best served cold, and he's cold to the bone when it comes to making sure you get what you deserve. (and that your boyfriend, too, has what's coming for him.) chan is insistent that you should break up with your boyfriend, of course, but he's a big believer that you should go out with a bang. it's a bit amusing, to see one of the group's more lowkey members insist that your boyfriend should be on the receiving end of a public lashing. some might say he just likes the drama. truthfully, he just wants to make it abundantly clear to everyone that you're not someone to be messed with, and that you're not going to settle for anything less now that you've kicked the devil's incarnate to the curb.

[satorusugurugurl]

My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 3,882

Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language, steamy kisses, pillow walls

A/N: Ah yes, trauma dumping before things get super spicy!!! Love the communication, it’s giving this could be a great relationship but it’s complicated. If you want to be included in the tag list, you MUST have your age in your bio PLEASE!!! Thank you!!

Part One Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

Your breathless words had the world crashing down around Satoru as he stared at your flushed face. His eyes widened as he released you, his own heart hammering in his chest. He had never lost control like that before! But there was this pull in his chest, one that screamed that he needed to protect you from the walking douchebag with black hair away from his; no, what the fuck? Not his girl, his client! 

“Holy fuck, I'm sorry! Shit, uhm, I shouldn't have done that.” Satoru grumbled, scrubbing his hands down his face. “I’m sorry.”

Your fingers trailed slowly over your lips. They were still tingling. “No, it's okay. I almost blew our cover.” Satoru slowly dragged his hands down his face, his eyes transfixed on you as you spoke. “That was all part of the act. If you didn't do that, it wouldn't have looked as convincing.”  Satoru visibly seemed to relax, shoulders slumping as he sighed.

“Thank fuck.” 

“It was just weird.” 

“I'm sorry?”A white eyebrow cocked up at your words. “Me kissing you was weird? Was it bad?” 

Your face flushed more, the heat spreading across your cheeks before setting over your chest. “Oh god, that came out wrong!” Your hands shot up in defense. “I-I didn't mean like that, Satoru! I just—I haven't kissed anyone in over a year and a half. So I guess I just—yeah, I’m rusty.”

“No,” you jerked your head up, “no, it was nice.” Stunning blue eyes softened, making you swallow hard. He thought it was nice. He is the hottest man on the planet, and ESCORT thought kissing you was nice.

What the fuck was this life?

Snapping out of the trance Satoru had you in; you cleared your throat. “I-I think I’m gonna take a s-shower!” You tossed the extra pillow to the futon on the floor. “Oh, and uhm, that kiss was nice for me too.” You turned, bolting for the bathroom before slamming the door. 

You slowly slid down it, sitting on the ground as you touched your lips. Satoru had such soft lips. It felt really good being kissed like you were wanted. No, no, it was an act! It's all an act. An act that had Satoru pacing the floor as he ran his hand through his hair.

It was only once he heard the shower running that he sat on the ground. What the fuck was that?! His pale skin was almost red as he tugged at white tufts of hair. He never got flustered with clients before! Maybe he was going insane. He must be because his mind keeps replaying the kiss repeatedly. 

The way you stiffened, how your hands gripped him so tight as he kissed you like he had never kissed a client before. Satoru slapped both his cheeks before shaking his head. That breathtaking kiss was nothing more than him doing his job. He was looking out for you as a client. Yeah, that was it. That asshole of a guy was the reason his heart was still racing as he thought of you and your lips.

By some miracle, both of you managed to pull your thoughts away from the kiss. You showered before switching with Satoru. He finally came out ten minutes later, grinning as he witnessed you placing the four extra pillows down the middle of the futon. You fluffed, pushed, and sat back to assess your constriction before repeating the process repeatedly until Satoru barked out a laugh from behind.

“Quit the impressive wall you’ve built.” Looking over your shoulder, you watched Satoru pull a tank top over his head. He slowly pulled it down over chiseled abs that had to have been crafted by a Renaissance artisan. Because there was no way those were real. “I’ve never had a client do that before.”

”Please don’t take it personally.” You whispered under your breath before fluffing another pillow. “It makes me feel a bit better; I haven’t shared a bed with anyone in a while.”

“Hey, no worries, whatever makes you feel comfortable, you keep doing it.”

God, why was he so nice? Sure, you paid him the big bucks to pretend to be your boyfriend. But that didn’t mean he had to be so understanding and kind regarding your antics. If anything, you would have assumed your pillow wall would have irritated anyone. You know for a fact that Toji would have hated it.

His kind, understanding patience had you transfixed on his movements as you both settled into bed. You were on your side, facing him as he stared at the ceiling, his hands resting behind his head. The silence wasn’t at all awkward. It was comforting in a way. You didn’t have to force yourselves to make dreadful small talk; you could enjoy the silence. 

The silence, however, had questions eating away at your insides. “Satoru?” Your voice mingled with chirping crickets and the warm spring breeze outside. You waited until his head turned in your direction before you continued. “Would it be okay if I asked you a question?” His face softened as he nodded his head.

”Of course.” 

“Why did you become an escort?”

Satoru chuckled, rolling onto his side so you both faced each other. “I think I’ve answered that question about a million times, so it’s easy.” His arm snaked around one of the pillows between you, hugging it to his chest. “I come from a pretty influential clan. It’s all about power, money, and success with them, and being an only child, they expected a lot from me.” His eyes rolled. “The old geezers kept going about when I would get married and have my own kids. And I didn't want anyone else feeling that way.” A cunning smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “So, I became an escort to help people.” He snickered, hugging the pillow tighter. “Plus, I get to annoy those controlling old farts. So it’s a win-win for me. But I still handle my family affairs; being an escort is like my second job.” His words were genuine, and they had you smiling.

”That’s actually really sweet.” You shifted, inching just a bit closer to him. “You seem like a genuinely nice guy, doing stuff like this for strangers.” You giggled nervously, shaking your head. “That speaks volumes; I know you’re a nice guy, but I don’t know a thing about you.”

”I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Honestly.”

“Really?”

“Really.” 

“Okay, so do you like sleeping with your clients? Or has sex lost its spark?” You watched him curiously.

He shrugged a shoulder, smirking. “Sex is still good when it's with a good partner. But I honestly don't sleep with a majority of my clients. One because, well, let's be honest, they can't afford it. I charge double the price of a single day for sex. So that's ¥240,000.” 

“For sex?!” 

“Yep! So people can't afford it, especially when I do family events like this. But I usually refuse; I don't particularly like sleeping with someone unless I know them. You know?” 

You hummed, and Satoru grinned, inching himself closer. Another one of your constructed pillows shifted out of the way. “I understand. I'm glad you have the right to refuse.” He nodded, blue eyes almost sparkling in the light of the moon flooding the room. “Have you ever been in love?” 

“Puppy love, nothing more than that.” Satoru pursed his lips in thought. “But I'm not opposed to falling in love someday.”

“God,” you groaned, rolling into your back, “look at me, asking you stupid questions like I’m in high school.”

Satoru sat up, laying on his elbow as he looked down at you with a pout. “No! No, I don't mind! I like talking to you.” He was leaning over you, smiling wide, white strands of hair falling in his face.

“I like talking to you too, Satoru.”

Satoru wanted to reach out and move Y/H/C strands out of your face. To see if your skin felt as soft as it looked, to feel your warmth. His hand moved, and just before it touched you, he dropped it, clenching it in the pillow

“Y/N, could I ask you something?” 

“Seeing as I asked you something, it's only fair.” You smiled, and it was so fucking cute Satoru wanted to bury his face in the pillow and kick his feet. Restraining his urge, he cleared his throat. 

“You mentioned your ex in passing. I'm assuming it was that asshole from earlier?” You frowned, nodding. “I don't like to pry or push my clients, but I keep thinking about what you said. What did you mean by ‘why didn't he?’ when I asked why he broke up with you.”

Sitting up, you sighed, eyes slowly shutting. Remembering that night was something you desperately tried to avoid. Satoru, however, had opened up to you, and he was helping you. Plus, he'd already caught a glimpse of Toji, so you might as well bite the bullet and tell him. 

Sucking in a deep breath, you exhaled slowly, bringing your knees to your chest, hugging them. “Toji Zen’in and I were high school sweethearts. He was my first for everything, so of course, I fell hard. We moved in together when we graduated high school into a small apartment in Kyoto. We got engaged at nineteen, and things went downhill.” Your grip tightened around yourself. “To make a painfully long story short, Toji developed a gambling habit, burning through his savings while I was in college.” The sheets shifted as Satoru sat up, turning to watch you with narrowed eyes.

“So, as a novice baker working at my parent's inn at twenty-one, I faced a dilemma. My fiancè was jobless, nonetheless, and behind on our rent.” The inside of your nose began to burn as tears threatened to escape. “I could leave him and focus on me and my career. I'd be losing my home and the supposed love of my life. Or I could use the money I saved up for pastry school to cover the rent we were behind on.” 

Sheets shifted, and a large hand gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into Satoru’s eyes. “You didn’t.” The tears streaming down your cheeks answered his question. “Y/N—” A sad, broken laugh sounded in your chest. 

“I did. Used everything I saved up to keep us in our apartment for four years.” Nausea churned in your stomach as you laughed a little louder. “After all of that, everything I did, he broke off our engagement. He said he didn't love me, that he couldn't see himself with me five years down the road.” More tears fell down your cheeks, landing on the sheets. “Toji said I was too focused on my career, my dreams, that I was eating too many sweets. That I wasn't as exciting as I used to be.” Satoru’s gaze darkened as you spoke, watching you wipe uselessly at your eyes. “That devastated me, so I packed up, moved to Tokyo, and got pastry training. I haven't been back since.” 

“That fuckin’ dick!” Satoru looked obviously upset over everything coming out of your mouth. “Seriously, you're beautiful, god I hate people like that!” No one should ever be treated the way you have been. To take care of a partner, give up on a dream for someone who you were supposed to marry, to have them pull shit like that. It made Satoru sick to his stomach. 

“Yeah, I'm still trying to get over it. In a way, I guess I'm happy it happened because I feel like I wouldn't have gotten as far in my career as I have. But the scars are still there, along with the trust issues. I can't bring myself to date anyone, let alone have sex.” 

Oh. Satoru perked up at you mentioning sex. You had told him you didn't need sex. The reasoning behind that was like an itch he couldn't scratch. You brought it up, so he might as well take the opportunity to ask while he had that.

“Why is that? The sex part, I mean, you deserve your needs to be taken care of as much as the next person.”

“That my friend is because he broke up with me right after we had sex. Imagine just having an orgasm, and your boyfriend gets off of you and tells you he wants to break up before listing everything wrong with you.”

“Fuckin’ shithead.” Satoru wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest and hugging you as tightly as possible. “I'm so sorry you went through that. He's an asshole for doing that to you.” Satoru’s hand gently stroked your head as your face rested in the crook of his neck. “I hope you recover soon because you deserve to feel loved and happy.” His hand paused as he snickered. “And have mind-blowing sex that makes you forget all about those bullshit excuses he gave you.” 

Gojo Satoru’s words and tone were so genuine you found yourself smiling into his neck. Your arms wrapped around him as you lay down. “I hope so, too. Thank you, Satoru.” 

“No, thank you for sharing that with me; it means a lot.” 

The two of you stayed like that, his hand stroking your hair while you rested on his chest. Your pillow wall lasted thirty minutes and was never constructed again that night or the following one because there was a comfort you and Satoru found in each other.

The two of you had so much fun during the day. Laughing and talking as you would hang around with your family and friends. You told stories and jokes and went to dinners with the wedding party together. He got along well with everyone, and your friends liked him and his looks. At the same time, your parents admired him for helping around the inn, delivering towels to guests, and cleaning up with you. They saw him as a perfect partner, just like you had paid him to do it.

But you were beginning to wonder if it was just his job or just him being Gojo Satoru. The amount of laughing and talking you did in front and behind closed doors didn't feel like he was doing another job. He seemed to be enjoying himself truly. The days seemed to fly by, and it was hard to believe it was Wednesday night. Satoru walked you to the bar your friends were at for the bachelorette party. If it was Wednesday, you only had four days left with him. 

“Are you planning on getting drunk, like super drunk?” Satoru asked, looking at you from over his sunglasses. “Because that's a sight I would pay money to see.”

“Nah, I'll have a few drinks, but I don't like getting hammered drunk.” You gently bumped your shoulder into his side. “You sure you don't want to join us? The girls said they’re okay if you join.”

“Eh, I don't like drinking. I'm a lightweight, and it never appealed to me. If Suguru were here, oh, he'd be down.” You beamed up at him as he mentioned his one and only best friend. “Seriously, he'd love this shit. Being surrounded by girls, drinking with them.” Satoru shoved his hands in his pockets. “Seriously though, he'd love you. You two would get along great. I’ll have to introduce you to him when we get back to Tokyo.” 

His words struck you like a hot iron. He was pulling out his phone and checking the time, oblivious to what he had just said. The man you were paying to be your boyfriend for a week wanted to introduce you to his friend? His best friend! 

It had your heart fluttering as butterflies swarmed in your stomach. Satoru hadn't even corrected himself as he peered down at you, returning the warm and happy smile you were positive was tugging at your lips. God, you hadn't been this happy in so long.

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.” 

“Cool! We should set something up. Maybe we could get din—”

The door to the bar flew open, and your friends, all looking intoxicated, spotted you. “There she is! Hurry up, Y/N, you need to catch up!” the bride-to-be slurred as she reached for you. 

“Waaait!! Mina, let her say bye to Satoru!!” another bridesmaid said, smacking her arm. 

“Right! Right, sorry!”

You giggled, looking into Satoru’s cerulean eyes. “I'm being summoned. I should get going.” Gojo snorted, leaning down and kissing you on the lips. “I'll see you later.”

“Uhm, excuse me.” Mina had a disgusted look on her face. “What the fuck was that lame-ass kiss?” Your other friends nodded in agreement. “Satoru, what the fuck? Don't you like Y/N?” 

“Of course, I like my girlfriend Mina.” 

“Then kiss her like you mean it!!” 

You turned, giving Mina a look that could curdle dairy. “Mina, stop.” She flipped you off, her attention never leaving Satoru’s face.

“If I don't get to go to a strip club, I wanna see a steamy kiss!” The other girls whistled and cheered. “I want it steamy! I'm talking smutty romance-level shit!” 

“Mina!” 

“What you both are hot as fuck! Consider it a wedding gift!!”

“Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!!” 

Oh great, now your drunken friends were chanting, and bystanders were watching. With a grimace, you turned to the very amused Satoru, who stared down at the drunken girls before his gaze fixed on you.  He shrugged a shoulder as if saying, sure, why not? But he left the decision up to you.

While you were tempted not to make your poor pretend boyfriend a walking spectacle for a group of drunk women. The thought of having to listen to them bitch and moan about you being a party pooper was way worse. So you sighed before turning to face Satoru with a smile. 

“You heard them. If we do this, I can return the dish set we bought.” 

“You don't have to tell me twice.” 

Satoru grabbed you by the throat, pinning you against the wall of the bar. His lips slammed against yours in a heated kiss you'd only seen in movies. His tongue was licking your bottom lip, and you so willingly obliged, opening your mouth, allowing his tongue entrance. Satoru trailed the hand that was around your throat down your curves. His large hand gripped your hips as he growled. Fuck he tasted so good, like cola and vanilla candy. Your tongue moved against his, trying to taste more of him. 

While you tasted like strawberries and chocolate to him, it was like a symphony of tastes between your tongues. One that he didn't want to end, his knee pushed its way between your legs, pressing firmly over your clothes core, making you gasp into his mouth, eyes going wide as the intimate touch. Your moan only made Satoru kiss you harder, desperate to feel the vibrations from the desperate sounds escaping your mouth.

“Whoa! Okay! Okay!” Mina shouted, her wine spilling as she hurried forward. “I said kiss her! Not fuck her in public.” Your best friend playfully swatted at his arm.

When Satoru broke the kiss, a string of saliva connected your bottom lips as you both gasped for air. The sheer intensity of the kiss rendered you speechless as he allowed his eyes to trail over your face. Taking in the flush tint of your cheeks, the way your body trembled under his hand, and the subtle way your hips rocked forward against his thigh. It looked like the kiss had as much of an effect on you as it did on him.

He pressed a soft kiss against your slightly swollen lips. “You did ask for a smutty book kiss.” Satoru sighed as he pulled away. “I just delivered what you asked for.” Mina said something along the lines of ‘smutty kiss without the smut, please’ as she headed back into the bar. “Well, she might not have enjoyed it, but at least you seemed like you did.” His teasing tone slowly brought you back to reality.

”Y-Yeah, it was lovely.” You fanned yourself before heading to follow after your friends. “I’ll see you later tonight.” You breathed out, but just before you could make it inside the door, Satoru grabbed your wrist, pulling you in for a hug.

”Call me when you’re done, and I’ll come get you, okay?”

”Okay.”

His lips were against yours again before he released you. “Okay.” He repeated your word back to you before waving you off as he headed back in the direction of the inn.

His kiss, the tone of voice, and the mere conversation of introducing him to his best friend whirled around your mind as you guzzled down a shot of sake, which had to have been the fifth one in the last forty minutes. While the other bridal party members were laughing and talking, you stared at the table. The kiss and Satoru’s words replayed over and over again in your head, like old sitcom reruns. 

Was it normal for an escort to tell a client they wanted to introduce them to their friends? Was he just being friendly or taking pity on you? Then there was that kiss outside of the bar! He didn’t have to put his knee between your legs, but he did! Now your panties were wet, and the more you thought about the kiss, about him, the wetter they seemed to get.

Holy shit, what was wrong with you!? 

Just three days ago, you told the guy you didn’t have sex; you didn’t need it. But the more you got to know him, the more times he kissed you, the more your icy resolve began to melt. Gojo Satoru was lighting a fire within you. One that you were very cautious of because you didn’t want to be burned again.

You got up from the table, swaying as you headed for the bathroom. Was Satoru just being nice? Or did he feel the same way you did? There was some sort of connection between the two of you. One that you might want to explore if he wants to as well. Why else would he talk to you the way that he did?

Entering the bathroom, you sighed, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your fingers trailed over your still-swollen lip. Toji had never kissed you like that in the past. Staring in the mirror, you groaned. An image of Toji stood behind you, haunting you like he had done for the last year and a half. 

“Ugh, just get the fuck out of my head and let me heal already.” You scolded the image of him in the mirror, flipping it off.

”I’m in your head?”

Your heart stopped, and your hand dropped to your side. Toji’s image smirked as he tilted his head. You were getting ready to ask yourself how drunk you were when Toji moved. His hands landed on the sink, caging you in while the smell of cedarwood engulfed you like a cloud of smoke.

”Toji—!”

“Shut up, we need to talk.”

(TBC)

Taglist:

@arminloverlol @jamzywiththejam28 @gojoful @maskedpacific @ahseyy @kash77 @sadmonke @ari-maccha @sugurubabe @hyori2 @bluechocolatemint @itsinherited @dellappatca @therealestpussyeater @dead-at-tokyo @nvrgojover @drakenswifeyy @nealeart @yunho-leeknow @fire-child-kira

[party-snake]

A sweet reunion

Sebastian solace x Fem! reader

This was just a little something I thought up after playing the game all day 🥰 enjoy.

What if there was an au were you guys reunited after he got taken away from you?

Tw: Angst, separated lovers, talks about death (no-one dies dw) reunited lovers, tooth aching fluff.

This was written for the people who have already played Pressure. I have not finished it myself, But there will be spoilers for Sebastian's file as well as doors '001' - '047' I highly suggest you play Pressure before you read this.

❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀

Life after Sebastian got convicted just wasn't the same. Your room felt empty without his warm body next to yours, dinner felt lonely. Lonely. You were so. so lonely. He was your love, your boyfriend. You wanted to marry that man. But, then he got convicted of 9 counts of murder.

You were devastated, to say the least. He was brought to court and tried. Found guilty, and sentenced to death by electric chair. You would never see him again. That day after the trial, you did nothing but cry in your bed. Your love, your life, taken. Just like that.

A few years later, you got convicted as well. You were sent down to Hadal Blacksite along with a few other prisoners.

You step into the waiting area and the head director gives you instructions over the radio. Looking around the large area and watch as several people walk into the submarines, taking them away to Hadal Blacksite. 'A death wish' You thought. A small snack bar catches your eye on the opposite side of the dock.

You trail over to it, spotting the several snacks and bottled waters. "Hi! How may I help you?" A small cat person appears from behind the counter and startles you slightly. "Can I get a water and a sandwich please?" You point at the turkey and cheese sandwich behind her. "Of course." She turns around and grabs your snack and water.

You tap your nails against the counter and she turns back with your load. That's when you spot the sugar cookie. Neatly wrapped in pretty pink packaging. Sugar cookies. That was Sebastian's favorite. You smile as you think of him. "Could I also get two sugar cookies?"

The submarine is dark as you step into it. The door folds and slams shut behind you. And down you go. You press a button on the control panel and the sub whisks you up to the surface.

The doors open and you step out onto the open dock. Grey and blue walls surround you with several crates and a forklift. A desk next to a door marked '001' in bright green lettering. Walking up to it, your fingers graze the slot where a keycard should go. 'Locked.' You turn around walk a few steps, ducking under a crate. On the other side is a few desks and a keycard on one of them.

You grab it a return to the door, sliding the keycard in the slot. It slids open with a beep and you walk into the next room. 'One down, 99 more to go.'

Along the way you had encounters with several monsters. A shark with several green eyes, and an Angler fish that you had to hide from. Your heart was pounding as your feet shakely carried you to door '47' It slid open to a dark room. The flashlight you had picked up flickers to life and you point it around the room. 'Good, no more of those squid things.' The grate on the side of the room is flund with a crash and you jump.

"Stranger, over here." A deep voice speaks. A shiver runs up your spine as you walk over to the grate. The voice is familiar to you somehow, but how? It couldn't be... could it? You crawl your way through the grate and come into a small room.

It was dark when you entered, standing up completely and stretching your arms above you. A small light flickers on in the coner of the room and you look up towards the source. "Welcome. Welcome! Don't worry i'm not going to hurt yo-" Wait. "Sebastian?" You say, cutting him off.

"Ah, Yes?" He pauses, a little confused. "How did you know my name?" You grab at the diving gear and pull it off your head. As your eyes met his, they widen. "Sweetheart?" He says shakely. Your eyes swim with tears as you two stare at each other for a while " I-I thought you were... you were dead." You sob out.

It had to be him. The short black hair, the voice, his mannerisms. He leans foward, putting two of his arms on the ground, putting another to your face, feeling your skin and wiping away a tear. You laugh and kiss at his hand. He smiles and chuckles softly. "Hi hun." He finally says. Putting hand on his, you lean foward, closing the distance and kissing him sweetly.

Warmth, love, finally. You'd found him. After all this time. You have him back. He pulls away and laughs. "Looks like someone missed me." You puff out your cheeks. "Of course I did. I thought you were dead!" He shrugs. "That's fair." You look over his body, his angler fish light, the gills, the large tail. Three arms?! "What happened?" A frown appears over his smile and he looks away.

An hour or so passes as he explains to you what happened after he was convicted. You sit on his tail, eating your sandwich. You can't imagine what he had to go through, the scientists, the pain from the DNA. All of it. You felt terrible. "So... yeah. That's what happened." You frown as you look at him.

"But it's okay. I've found you. I'm still alive." You finish the last of your sandwich and pull out the two cookies. A hand comes up to wipe your mouth and unwraps the two cookies. "Do you still like sugar cookies?" Your eyes met again. Shock appears in his eyes and he nods. "You remembered?"

"Of course I did love." A giddy smile is on his face before you can blink. "I haven't had a cookie in so long..." He leans down slightly and he opens his mouth. The sharp teeth scare you bit, but you giggle anyway. You make an airplane sound and wave it towards his mouth.

His teeth bite down around the cookie and he licks his lips. The flavour is sweet. The soft texture of the frosting and the crumble of the cookie itself is just... delicious. He almost cries. His hand comes fowards to take the rest of it from you. You place it on his hand and smile. He returns it.

"I love you." He says. You're stunned for a second before tears return to your eyes. "I love you too Sebastian." You say, taking a bite out of your cookie.

[shycoconutt]

“Honey,” Nanami Kento’s voice echoes from the front entryway to your shared apartment, leather dress shoes clicking on the hardwood as he enters, “there’s a package for you.”

Squealing in excitement, you jump up from your cozy cocoon on the couch and rush towards him, fuzzy socks causing you to slip in the process.

Luckily, Nanami catches you effortlessly, preventing you from landing face first.

“You know, for someone who exorcises curses for a living, you’re awfully clumsy.”

“I’m not clumsy!” you defend as you playfully tear yourself away from his grasp, “I just feel safe letting my guard down around you, is that so bad?”

Standing in front of him now, Nanami gazing down at you with a soft, adoring expression, you take a moment to relish his presence. Recently, your individual schedules have been clashing, and it’s taken a toll on your usual evening routine of making a home-cooked meal, cuddling, bathing, and reading together, all while tangled up in a heap of limbs and love.

“I missed you, Ken,” your tone is laced with utmost sincerity as you throw your arms around his broad shoulders, leaning into his neck to take a large inhale of his scent.

You feel his body curl around your own, his strong arms giving you a firm squeeze. “I missed you too,” he mumbles into your hair.

You stand like this, resting in each other’s embrace, for a few minutes. Ever since you got together, he has quickly become your life source, and you his. It’s customary for you to have moments like this, using each other’s embrace to charge your proverbial battery. If someone’s energy is particularly depleted on any given day, the other patiently waits for them to consume the proper amount they need.

“So,” his voice breaks the silence, “what’s in the package?”

Smiling into his chest, you tease him, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

That earns you a chuckle, “Oh? Is it a secret? A present perhaps?”

Separating from him, you snatch the package from his grip, tear it open, and present the jumbled up piece of fabric to him.

“Pajamas?” he questions.

“Yes, sir!” you squeal, obviously excited.

There’s a pause, and you look up to find a puzzled expression on Nanami’s face.

“What’s wrong?” you pout, looking up to him expectedly.

“Nothing,” he deflects, eyes shifting to the side while a faint blush appears on his cheeks, “it’s just, well, normally you wear my t-shirts to bed and nothing else. I didn’t know you needed pajamas.”

Your mouth slightly gapes, processing his words. He’s right, ever since you started living together, you often use his old shirts or the undershirt he wore for the day as your sleeping attire. It’s easy, they smell like him, and you hate wearing pants, so it was the most obvious solution. Nanami never said anything about it, so you assumed he was neither annoyed nor contended by it.

But Nanami’s body language, paired with the bashful look on his face, tells a different story.

Cute.

Making a scene, you dramatically toss the article of clothing over your shoulder and slightly slap your forehead in faux-realization.

“You’re right,” you pronounce, “what was I thinking?”

Nanami rolls his eyes with a smirk, obviously caught on to your little act, before pulling you into a bear hug and spinning you around. You can’t help the heap of giggles that escape your lips.

Soon, you are taken away from the entryway and plopped down on the couch, Nanami coming to rest on top of you with his full weight, the pressure causing a whole new bout of laughter.

“Nanami!” you gasp.

“What kind of pajamas are those anyway?” he ridicules while poking your sides, not letting up on his teasing.

“Just -argh- just a skimpy lace camisole with slits up both sides,” you say in between gasps. “You know for -ah- easy access.”

The man above you freezes, pulling back to look at you with wide eyes.

Now it’s your turn to smirk.

“Well,” Nanami began, clearing his throat, “if you want to wear those kinds of pajamas, you know, every once in a while, that’d be okay.”

Patting his chest, you sit up, so your nose is touching his, eyes squinting in reluctance. With the blush beginning to travel down his neck, it’s clear who has the upper hand.

“Sure, Ken. But only if you’re the one to take it off.”

a/n: something fluffy and cute to help you (hopefully) get through the week. some big nanami fics are in the works, so (if you’d like) please follow to stay updated!

[novaursa]

A Lion's Leap (namesake)

- Summary: The king announces the betrothal of his youngest daughter, you, to Tyland Lannister. But even the Lannister Lord is taken off guard, as there has been some miscommunication regarding the proposal.

- Paring: targ!reader/Tyland Lannister

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: under the dragon's eye

- Next part: credit's due

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The birth of your first child was nothing short of a whirlwind for Tyland Lannister. He had spent the better part of the day pacing the length of the corridor outside your chambers, his nerves as frayed as his hair, while the sounds of midwives bustling about and the occasional shout from you reached his ears. The moment he heard the baby's first cry, Tyland let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

When the midwife finally allowed him inside, he approached you cautiously, as though afraid you might throw a pillow at him for causing this entire ordeal in the first place. But to his surprise, you looked radiant despite the exhaustion. You cradled a small bundle in your arms, and as Tyland moved closer, he saw the little face of your newborn son, his tiny fists clenched as if he was ready to take on the world.

Tyland felt a rush of emotions—pride, awe, sheer relief that everything had gone smoothly—but before he could utter a word, you looked up at him with a tired but triumphant smile.

"I’ve decided on a name," you said, your voice soft but firm.

Tyland, still slightly dazed from the whole event, blinked and nodded. "Of course, my love. What shall we call him?"

You took a deep breath and said, “Daemon.”

Tyland’s smile froze mid-expression, his brain doing a complete double-take. "I’m sorry, did you just say... Daemon?"

You nodded, the name rolling off your tongue as though it was the most natural thing in the world. “Yes, after my uncle. Daemon Lannister.”

Tyland stared at you, his mind racing to process the situation. Daemon? As in Daemon Targaryen, the rogue prince, the man whose very presence was enough to send most people running in the other direction? And now, here he was, with his very own son named after that man? A Lannister named Daemon? The gods were truly laughing at him today.

"Ah... well," Tyland stammered, trying to find the right words. "That’s... certainly a strong name. A bold name." He hesitated, glancing down at the baby, who was already squirming in his swaddle as if he, too, had inherited some of his namesake’s fiery spirit. "Are you... sure?"

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Of course I’m sure. Uncle Daemon has always been there for me. It’s a fitting name for our son."

Tyland cleared his throat, still unsure how to react. “Yes, yes, of course. It’s just... a Lannister named Daemon. That’s going to... raise some eyebrows.”

You gave him a tired but amused smile. "It’s a good name, Tyland. Besides, I’ve heard plenty of Targaryens named Aegon. I think a Lannister named Daemon will survive just fine."

Tyland sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Survive, yes. But I have a feeling I’ll never hear the end of this."

And he was right.

It didn’t take long for word to reach your uncle, Daemon Targaryen, who seemed to be having the time of his life with this information. Tyland had just returned to his chambers after speaking with the maester when a servant knocked on the door.

"Lord Tyland," the servant said with barely contained amusement, "Prince Daemon sends his congratulations. He... also sends a gift for his namesake."

Tyland’s eyes narrowed. “A gift?” he asked warily.

The servant handed him a small package, which Tyland opened cautiously. Inside, to his horror, was a tiny pair of leather boots—dragonrider boots, fit for a baby.

"By the gods," Tyland muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Of course he would."

As if summoned by Tyland’s sheer exasperation, Daemon himself appeared in the doorway not long after, grinning from ear to ear. "So, I hear there’s a new Daemon in the capital," he said, his voice dripping with amusement.

Tyland resisted the urge to groan. "Yes, yes, my son has been named after you. Are you quite done gloating?"

Daemon’s grin only widened. "Oh, I’m just getting started," he said, strolling into the room as though he owned the place. He looked down at the baby in your arms and nodded approvingly. "A fine name for a fine lad. I’m sure he’ll live up to it."

"That’s exactly what I’m afraid of," Tyland muttered under his breath.

Daemon chuckled, clearly enjoying Tyland’s discomfort. "You’re welcome, Lannister. If your son turns out half as impressive as me, you’ll have nothing to worry about."

Tyland shot him a look. "That’s precisely the problem, Daemon."

You, of course, were watching this entire exchange with an amused smile, clearly not as troubled by the situation as your husband. "I think it’s a good name," you said, glancing down at your son. "He’ll grow into it."

"That’s what I’m afraid of," Tyland repeated, this time louder, casting another wary glance at Daemon.

But despite the teasing, Tyland couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of pride as he looked down at his son. Even if the boy was named after a rogue prince, even if it meant enduring endless jabs from Daemon for the rest of his days, this was his son. A Lannister, through and through. And somehow, the name didn’t seem so bad anymore.

Still, as Daemon sauntered out of the room with one last smirk and a parting comment about teaching the boy to ride a dragon before he could walk, Tyland couldn’t help but sigh.

“I should have known,” he muttered, glancing over at you with a mix of fondness and exasperation. “We’re never going to hear the end of this, are we?”

You laughed softly, your eyes twinkling as you cradled little Daemon in your arms. “No, I don’t think we are. But we’ll manage.”

Tyland smiled despite himself, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "I suppose we will. And if he takes after his namesake... I’ll just have to make sure he’s at least a little more... manageable."

But deep down, Tyland knew that was wishful thinking. With a name like Daemon, nothing was ever going to be manageable.

Tyland Lannister had always prided himself on being a composed man, someone who could navigate political intrigues and family tensions with the calm dignity expected of a Lannister. But nothing in his experience—no underhanded dealings, no surprise royal decrees—had prepared him for the sight that greeted him one morning as he walked past the nursery where his infant son, Daemon, was being tended to by the servants.

It started with a shriek. Not the usual fussing of a baby, but the high-pitched, heart-stopping scream of one of the maids. Tyland’s blood ran cold. Without a second thought, he rushed toward the nursery, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste.

"Lord Tyland!" came the voice of the nursemaid, hysterical and utterly panicked. "Something’s wrong!"

Tyland flung the door open, his heart hammering in his chest, and there, standing over the cradle, were two utterly terrified servants, their eyes wide as saucers. The cradle itself was rattling and shaking as though possessed by some malevolent spirit, and from within came a strange, ominous sound—like the soft crackling of fire and the faintest hint of hissing.

Tyland’s stomach dropped.

"What in seven hells is going on?" he demanded, pushing past the servants to peer into the cradle. His son, little Daemon Lannister, was cooing happily, completely unaware of the chaos around him.

But it wasn’t his son that made Tyland’s blood freeze.

Nestled beside the baby was a small, writhing, freshly hatched dragon, its scales shimmering like molten bronze, with tiny wings twitching as it squirmed in the blankets. The dragon let out a high-pitched screech, startling Tyland so badly he nearly knocked over a nearby table.

"By the gods!" Tyland yelped, stumbling backward. "What... what is that doing here?!"

One of the servants, pale as a ghost, pointed shakily at the dragon. "It... it was in the cradle, my lord! The egg must’ve been slipped in—h-heavens help us, it hatched!"

Tyland’s mind reeled. A dragon egg? In his son’s cradle? Who could possibly— And then it hit him like a slap to the face.

Daemon.

Of course. Who else would have the audacity, the sheer nerve, to sneak a dragon egg into an unsuspecting Lannister’s nursery? His uncle by marriage, Prince Daemon Targaryen, was no doubt behind this madness. Tyland groaned inwardly, already picturing Daemon’s smirk when he found out his little scheme had come to fruition. This was his idea of a gift? A baby dragon?

The tiny dragon let out another screech, this time flapping its minuscule wings in a rather pathetic attempt at looking menacing. It was no larger than a house cat, but to Tyland, it might as well have been Vhagar herself looming over the cradle.

“I need to get him out of there,” Tyland muttered to himself, eyeing the dragon warily as it curled protectively around Daemon’s tiny body, almost like it was already bonded with the infant. “How am I supposed to—”

The dragon let out a warning hiss, baring its little fangs at Tyland as he reached for his son. He froze, hands hovering in midair. Gods, of course it would hiss at me. Tyland had always prided himself on being a man of strategy, but how in the world was he supposed to outmaneuver a newborn dragon?

“Right,” he muttered to himself, eyeing the dragon again. “Nice dragon. Just... let me grab the baby and we can all get out of this unscathed, hmm?”

The dragon blinked at him with those shiny eyes, completely unimpressed.

Tyland, who had faced down far more intimidating foes in court, suddenly found himself at a loss for words, feeling as though he were trying to negotiate with an angry goose. Carefully, inch by inch, he reached out again, trying to gently lift Daemon from the cradle. The baby gurgled happily, completely unaware of the chaos surrounding him.

The dragon, however, was having none of it. It flared its tiny wings, making a noise somewhere between a chirp and a growl. Tyland yanked his hand back, eyes wide. “Oh, for the love of—this is absurd!”

As if in response, the dragon flicked its tail and settled back down, curling protectively around the baby. Tyland’s frustration grew. “He’s my son, not yours!” he snapped at the dragon, fully aware of how ridiculous the situation had become. “You’re barely out of the egg!”

The servants stood frozen in the corner, clearly unwilling to come anywhere near the creature. Tyland sighed, rubbing his temple. “Of course,” he muttered. “Of course Daemon would do this.”

Just as he was about to attempt another round of negotiations with the tiny dragon, the door swung open, and in strolled Prince Daemon Targaryen himself, looking as pleased as ever. One glance at the scene before him, and his grin widened.

“Well, well,” Daemon said with a mockingly thoughtful tone, crossing his arms. “Looks like my little namesake has found himself a new friend.”

Tyland shot him a withering look. “This... this is your doing, isn’t it?”

Daemon shrugged, feigning innocence. “I simply thought young Daemon could use a companion. A Lannister with a dragon—it’s almost poetic, don’t you think?”

“Poetic?” Tyland repeated incredulously. “I nearly lost my hand to this thing!” He gestured toward the tiny dragon, who let out another hiss as if to punctuate the point.

Daemon chuckled, clearly enjoying Tyland’s exasperation. “You’ll get used to it. Dragons aren’t so bad once you learn how to handle them.”

Tyland glared at him. “Handle them? I can barely get near my own son without this... this lizard snapping at me!”

Daemon sauntered over to the cradle and casually scooped up the baby, the dragon allowing him to do so without so much as a hiss. Daemon held the infant with a smug grin. “See? He already knows who his real protector is.”

Tyland groaned. “I suppose you’ll be telling me this is normal?”

Daemon clapped Tyland on the shoulder, still grinning. “Completely normal. Congratulations, Tyland. You’re the proud father of a dragonrider.”

Tyland sighed, rubbing his temple. “Gods help me.”

The tiny dragon let out a satisfied little chirp, settling back into the cradle as though it had won some unspoken contest. Tyland shot it a glare, knowing that his life had just gotten a lot more complicated.

“Just remember,” Daemon added, still smirking, “you’re welcome.”

Tyland could only groan in response.

Tyland Lannister was sitting in the gardens, trying his best to enjoy what should have been a peaceful afternoon with you and your infant son, Daemon. Of course, the key word there was "should." Things hadn’t been quite so peaceful since a certain little dragon named Viseron had entered their lives. Viseron, now about the size of a very large dog, was lounging a few feet away, sunbathing lazily, wings spread wide as if he owned the place.

Tyland glanced at the creature with mild suspicion. He still hadn’t quite gotten over the whole "I almost lost a hand to a baby dragon" incident. Viseron, of course, was completely unbothered, soaking up the warmth of the sun as though nothing could disturb his perfect little world.

You sat beside Tyland, gently cradling baby Daemon, who was babbling happily, completely oblivious to the chaos he had caused by simply existing. Tyland leaned over and gave his son an affectionate look, muttering, "You don’t know the trouble you’ve brought into my life, do you?"

Just as Tyland was beginning to relax, he noticed two familiar figures approaching from across the garden—Rhaenyra and Laenor, who had recently returned to court after their wedding. Rhaenyra, of course, had a gleam in her eye, the kind of gleam that Tyland had learned to be wary of. She was clearly in a mood for teasing.

“Well, well, well,” Rhaenyra called out as she drew closer, her voice light and playful. “If it isn’t the new dragonlord himself.”

Tyland sighed, already sensing where this was going. “Good afternoon, Rhaenyra. Laenor,” he greeted, trying to keep his tone civil and neutral. You, however, smiled warmly at your sister, clearly happy to see her.

Rhaenyra’s gaze immediately flicked to Viseron, who was still sunbathing nearby, his scales glinting in the sunlight. She raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. “So, this is the infamous Viseron,” she said with mock admiration. “I must say, Tyland, I didn’t take you for a man of dragons.”

Laenor chuckled beside her, clearly amused by the situation. “He’s certainly got his hands full now, doesn’t he?”

Tyland groaned inwardly, already regretting not finding an excuse to leave the garden before they arrived. “It wasn’t exactly my choice,” he muttered, glancing at you. “Your uncle saw to that.”

Rhaenyra laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, I heard all about it. I can’t believe Daemon managed to sneak a dragon egg into your son’s cradle. You should have seen Father’s face when he found out. I thought he was going to choke on his wine.”

Tyland rubbed the back of his neck, still feeling embarrassed by the whole situation. “Yes, well, I’d prefer if we all forgot about that particular incident.”

But Rhaenyra, of course, was having none of it. She moved closer, eyeing Viseron with a grin. “I think it’s fitting. A Lannister with a dragon. You’ll certainly stand out now, Tyland.”

“I’d rather not stand out quite so much,” Tyland grumbled. “Especially when said dragon seems determined to make my life difficult.”

Rhaenyra’s laughter only grew louder. “Difficult? What’s difficult about raising a dragon?”

Tyland shot her a look, deadpan. “For starters, it tried to eat my sleeve this morning.”

Rhaenyra bit back a laugh, her eyes flicking toward the dragon again. “Well, that’s just part of the experience,” she said teasingly. “You’ll get used to it. Besides, look at him—he’s not so bad.”

Viseron, as if on cue, let out a lazy yawn, revealing sharp little teeth that Tyland was all too familiar with. He shot the dragon a wary glance. “Not so bad? He’s a menace in the making.”

Laenor chuckled, patting Tyland on the back. “Ah, come now, Tyland. You’ve got a son with a dragon, something no other Lannisters can say. It’s practically an honor.”

Tyland groaned, leaning back against the bench as you stifled a laugh beside him. “Honor? That’s not quite the word I’d use.”

Rhaenyra grinned, clearly enjoying the teasing. “And what word would you use? Terrified? In over your head?”

“Accurate,” Tyland muttered.

Baby Daemon, blissfully unaware of the conversation, babbled in your arms, reaching out toward Viseron, who was still lounging in the sun. Tyland’s heart skipped a beat as he watched his son’s tiny hand wave in the dragon’s direction, but Viseron didn’t move—he simply lay there, content to ignore the world around him. At least for now, Tyland thought grimly.

Rhaenyra, her eyes sparkling with amusement, leaned in closer to Tyland. “You know,” she said, her voice low and teasing, “I think Uncle Daemon did this on purpose just to see how you’d handle it.”

Tyland’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t say,” he replied dryly, knowing full well that Daemon had probably laughed himself to sleep after hearing about the chaos he’d caused.

Laenor grinned, clearly enjoying the banter. “Well, you’re handling it better than I expected,” he said, his tone light. “A Lannister with a dragon—who would have thought?”

Tyland sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Trust me, I didn’t ask for this. But here we are.”

You, still cradling baby Daemon, gave your sister a playful look. “He’s doing better than you think, Rhaenyra,” you said with a smile. “And besides, little Daemon seems to love Viseron.”

Tyland gave you a grateful look, though he couldn’t help but mutter, “One of us has to.”

Rhaenyra chuckled, leaning back with a satisfied smile. “Well, Tyland, I look forward to seeing how this all turns out. Who knows? Maybe you’ll be flying on dragonback before long.”

Tyland paled at the very thought. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Viseron, meanwhile, let out a contented huff, as if thoroughly enjoying the idea. Tyland shot the dragon a glare. “I’m watching you, you overgrown lizard.”

But despite his grumbling, Tyland couldn’t help but feel a bit more at ease as he looked at you, his son, and even the sunbathing dragon nearby. Perhaps, just perhaps, he was starting to get the hang of this—chaos and all.

Tyland Lannister had never been more anxious about returning to Casterly Rock, despite it being his childhood home. This time, though, he wasn’t just returning as a dutiful son or the Lord Treasurer of the realm—he was arriving with his wife, your toddler son, and a small dragon named Viseron. To say it was a complicated visit would be an understatement.

"Just remember," Tyland muttered as he straightened his tunic for the third time, "my family is not used to dragons. Or... well, anything remotely Targaryen."

You smiled patiently, holding little Daemon’s hand as he toddled alongside you. Viseron, now the size of a large horse, walked just a few feet behind, his golden-green eyes watching everything with a curious gleam. He had grown quite a bit since his sunbathing days in the King’s Landing gardens, and his presence was impossible to ignore—much to Tyland’s increasing nervousness.

The moment they stepped through the grand entrance of Casterly Rock, the air of formality and anticipation was palpable. Jason Lannister, Tyland’s older brother and Lord of Casterly Rock, was already standing at the head of the table in the great hall, surrounded by a collection of Lannister cousins, uncles, and other relatives who had come to greet them. Jason, naturally, had a goblet of wine in hand and an impossibly smug grin on his face.

"Tyland!" Jason boomed as soon as they entered. "Welcome home! And look at that—our little Lannister prince and his... scaly friend."

Tyland tried not to roll his eyes as Jason clapped him on the shoulder with far too much enthusiasm. "Brother," Tyland said, managing a polite smile. "It’s good to be back."

Jason’s attention immediately shifted to Daemon, who was currently holding onto your leg while giving everyone around him curious looks. "And this must be young Daemon!" Jason grinned, bending down to ruffle the toddler’s silver-gold hair. "A fine-looking lad. And the first Lannister dragon rider, no less!"

Tyland felt his stomach twist as Jason’s gaze shifted to Viseron, who was currently sniffing at a nearby tapestry as if deciding whether or not it was edible.

"Yes, yes, a dragon rider," Tyland said hastily, casting a nervous glance at Viseron. "Speaking of the dragon, perhaps we should—"

But before Tyland could finish, Jason had already raised his goblet high. "A toast!" he announced loudly, drawing the attention of the entire hall. "To Daemon Lannister, the first of our house to ride a dragon!"

The Lannister family, ever fond of toasts, quickly raised their goblets in unison, echoing Jason’s sentiment with various degrees of enthusiasm. "To Daemon Lannister!" they cheered.

Tyland, however, was too busy watching Viseron, who had become increasingly interested in the sound of clinking goblets. The dragon’s head snapped around, his eyes narrowing on the shimmering cups as if they were the most fascinating things in the world.

"Um," Tyland began, holding up a hand, "perhaps we should—"

But it was too late.

Viseron let out a high-pitched screech, startling everyone in the hall as he stomped forward, his tail knocking over a nearby chair. The dragon’s eyes were locked on Jason’s goblet, and before anyone could react, Viseron lunged forward, his sharp teeth closing around the rim of the cup.

Jason yelped in surprise, yanking his hand back as Viseron claimed the goblet like a prized trophy. The dragon gave the cup a good shake, spilling wine everywhere, including all over Jason’s immaculate tunic.

"By the gods!" Jason exclaimed, trying—and failing—to maintain his composure. "The dragon just... stole my wine!"

Tyland covered his face with his hand, letting out a long, exasperated sigh. "Of course he did," he muttered. "Of course."

The Lannister relatives, for their part, were watching the spectacle with a mixture of horror and amusement. One cousin was whispering furiously to another, no doubt speculating whether all dragon riders had to deal with such incidents on a regular basis.

You, meanwhile, were trying very hard not to laugh as you knelt down to pick up Daemon, who had started clapping his hands in delight at the sight of Viseron’s antics. "Look, Mama, Viseron’s playing!" Daemon exclaimed happily, pointing at the dragon as though this were all part of some grand game.

Jason, however, was not as amused. "Tyland," he said through gritted teeth, wiping wine from his sleeve, "do you always let your dragon do this?"

Tyland gave his brother a tight-lipped smile, trying to salvage what was left of his dignity. "No, I generally prefer my wine in a goblet and not in the jaws of a dragon, but thank you for the suggestion."

Viseron, having grown bored of the goblet now that it was empty, dropped it onto the floor with a clatter and turned his attention to one of the nearby tapestries again. Tyland winced. "Perhaps we should move the dragon... outside."

Jason nodded furiously, his expression sour. "Yes, please. Before it decides to redecorate the entire hall."

You were still smiling as you handed Daemon over to Tyland. "Why don’t you take Daemon outside with Viseron?" you suggested gently. "I think it’s best to let them both run off some energy."

Tyland, clutching his son a little tighter, sighed. "Yes, excellent idea." He gave Jason a parting glance. "Apologies for the... incident."

Jason waved him off, though his expression suggested he would be thinking twice about any future dragon-related toasts. "Just... make sure it doesn’t eat anything else valuable."

As Tyland guided Viseron out of the hall, the dragon lumbering behind him, Daemon giggled happily in his arms. "Viseron’s silly, Papa."

Tyland sighed, his heart softening despite the chaos. "Yes, yes he is, my boy." He cast one last glance back at Casterly Rock’s great hall, where his brother and cousins were still trying to mop up spilled wine and repair the damage.

“Welcome to Casterly Rock,” Tyland muttered to himself with a wry smile, shaking his head. “I’m sure we’ll be remembered fondly.”

But despite the dragon-sized headache, as he looked down at Daemon’s bright, happy face and the contented dragon trailing behind them, Tyland couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, the Lannisters would survive having a dragon rider in the family after all.

[manias-wordcount]

Her Good Girl (Vi)

Kinktober 2023 Day Eleven: Dildo

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

“Deep breath for me, sweetheart. Come on, in…”

  You take a deep breath in, letting precious air fill your lungs and give you life.

  “...and out.” 

  You let it all go. Letting the breath of life slip past your parted lips for a short trip away from you and your body. It’s necessary. To keep on living. To keep on going. So you don’t miss it. You don’t miss the air that is used to fill your lungs. Besides…

  You have that smile of hers to look forward to.

  “Good girl,” Vi hums at you from between your legs. Her eyes are half-lidded, and her gaze sits heavy, heavy, heavy on your lower stomach. As if it’s the real trouble you have to worry about right now. And not the fact that there’s a hand settling over your waist, trying to keep you still. Or the fact that your legs are thrown over her shoulders, putting you in an especially vulnerable position. Or even the fact that you measly little tank top you were wearing is pushed up high enough that your boobs can do nothing but sit out on your chest- exposed and on display. All for her to see. All for her to enjoy. “Do you want more?”

  “Yes.” You respond quickly. With a shaky voice and a swiftness that’s a little too embarrassing for even you in this moment. In fact, you can even feel all the blood rushing to your face as you only grow more and more flustered. Though that might have something to do with the way Vi’s gaze is constantly flickering downwards towards the main event happening between your thighs. “Yes, I- I want more. Please.”

  Your own voice sounds pathetic in your ears. But in front of you, Vi shutters at the sound and sight of your pretty pink tongue darting out to lick at your lips at the same time. She’s always been so soft with you. She’s always been so weak for you. Wanting to do nothing but touch you. Please you. Pleasure you- the whole nine yards. 

  That’s the whole reason why you’re here right now. Almost completely naked while lying on your back with her between your legs. With your legs up and spread nice and wide. And your soaking wet panties somewhere across the room. Though, you imagine they aren’t as wet as you were when Vi finally stopped teasing you and had you riding her tongue for so, so long. And you imagine they aren’t as wet as you right now

  Considering just how easily this new dildo Vi bought for you glides so easily into your fluttering little hole.

  “Then I’ll give you more,” Your girlfriend murmurs quietly as her hands work to make more of this shiny new toy disappear inside of you. Instantly, you’re pulling a face and breathing harder now than you were before. She moves slowly- not enough to get you loud or screaming. But enough to keep you a little noisy. To make you feel a little stretch. To get you biting at your lip and grabbing at her wrist for a chance to ground yourself as the dildo pushes further and further and further inside of you. “I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

  You don’t doubt that. You didn’t doubt that. Not the first time she said it to you. Not the last time she said it to you. Not even for a second. You believed her full-heartedly when she called you to come back home and told you that she was going to take care of your every little need tonight. 

You believed her completely when you arrived to see the packaging of a seven-inch bright pink and thick dildo in the trash and the toy itself sitting out on the counter to dry. And now you believe it with every fiber of your being. That she’ll take care of you. That she’ll pleasure you. Give you all you want. Especially now that had she started pushing this brand-new toy of hers past your lower lips and into your dripping-wet hole…

  …only to pull it all the way out and shove it fully back in.

  “Ah…” Your moans are soft. Near silent in this bedroom safe space she shares with you. But she drives it up. Her ears drink up every sound you and your lewd body make for her and for her alone. From the sounds of your moans and groans and gasps to the sounds of the sheets rustling beneath you. And even the wet, dirty sounds that your pussy makes as your walls are stretched out and stuffed full all by Vi’s doing. All by Vi’s hands. “Oh…oh…”

  You start to sit up on the bed, propping yourself up on your arms as you try to watch her work out the tightness building within you. But she’s quick to take the hand she had on your waist and to push you back into flying flat on the bed. And without missing a beat, you find your legs being bent further and your body being nearly folded in half as Vi leans into you. But then she starts taking you further. While still using one hand to work the dildo inside of you- slipping it in and sliding it out so, so easily- she’s using the other to bring your knees to your chest.

  This angle allows her to get closer to you. So, so much closer. Now her face is mere inches away from your drooling pussy, ready for your clit to be licked and flicked if Vi so wishes. Now her face is mere inches away from your chest- nipples ready to be sucked on if Vi so wishes. And even more than that- now her face is mere inches away from yours. With eyes ready to meet and lips ready to kiss and kiss until she has to remind you to breathe for her again.

  And that’s exactly what she does.

  Because while she’s kissing you, she can move even closer to you. She can swallow up your even sound- your every moan and cry and whimper and gasp for air. She can swallow it all up, and she owns it. And she does all of that while another hand comes up and cups at your boobs. Fondling them. Rolling a nipple between two fingers. Squeezing, touching, holding, feeling. But most of all?

  She can do all that while working the dildo inside of you to reach deeper. To hit harder. To make the pleasure feel even more sweeter. Even more intense. Then the second before. And the second before that. And the second before that as well. 

  She can stretch you out. She can make you feel so full and stuffed and tight before pulling it all away. Making you miss the feeling of that brand-new toy being pushed past your lower lips and swallowed by your pretty little cunny. More than you miss the air that leaves your lungs. Because even though you know it’s going to come back. Even though you know it’s about to happen all over again and again and again and again? You find that it’s something to look forward to. You still find that it’s something that feels necessary. To keep on going. To keep on living. To keep on feeling good. To keep on being hers.

  “Good girl...good, good, good girl….”

  Her good girl.

[bump1nthen1ght]

A Very Monstrous Kinktober (2024) Day 1 - Creampies

Kink: Creampies

Pairing: F!Nymph!Reader x M!Satyr

Other Kinks: Eating Out, Praise

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1137

Kinktober Masterlist

Sometime’s, Satyrs can be a blessing in disguise.

Most of your sisters hated them. They were always lurking at the edges of the grotto’s and rivers, desperate in their attempts to catch your attention for the night. They didn’t mind debasing themselves in the most obscene ways if it meant you’d give in for sex, whether it was playing their flutes for hours and hours just to be paid in a kiss, or flashing you in hopes you’d be impressed by their “package’. Absolutely relentless, they never seemed to know when to give up.

But at this very moment-

“Oh, by the gods!” You throw your head back onto the mossy rock, hands scrambling to find purchase to grip your nails into. The rougher edges of Chileos’ horns press against your inner thighs, legs unconsciously locking around as his tongue fucks into your pussy. 

“Does that feel good, milady?” The young satyr mutters out between long licks up your pussy lips, muffled by being nose deep in your cunt. He sucks and kisses at your clit, now throbbing and engorged, rewarded by your sweet juices spilling out against his scruffy chin. “I want to make you feel good.” 

Normally you wouldn't encourage this kind of behavior. But something about the satyr’s sweet, demure face, desperately offering to eat your cunt in return for one creampie, was too adorable for you to resist.

“Y-yes, very good, Chileos. You have a-aaah!” Your normally melodic voice is cut short as he shoves his tongue back inside, prodding your spongy insides with precision. “Y-you have a very talented mouth.” 

Chileos hums, the corners of his eyes squinching up as he smiles against your center, small tail wagging as he continues to feast. He nuzzles his nose right against your button, applying double the pressure as he licks you open.

Your toes begin to curl as your stomach leaps in place, hips humping up like a whore to force Chileos even deeper. Hand thrown over your mouth, slightly ashamed that you’re enjoying being ravished by a satyr of all things, you moan into your palm.

“O-oh! Right there! Right there!” Chileos digs his palms into your juicy ass and speeds up his pace, focusing on the sensitive spot he just hit. Like the ocean being pulled out to tide, your core feels taught as your climax approaches. “Y-yes, Chileos!’

Throwing your hips and chest up, you squirt delicious ambrosia all over Chileo’s face, watching as it drips down his chin and onto the grass below. The satyr himself tries his best to not waste a drop, lapping and panting, but it’s too much even for his voracious mouth to suckle all of it down.

Still buzzing from the high of your orgasm, you yank up Chileos by his horns, his tongue still lolled out in desperation to drink you whole. You don’t give him a moment to speak, dragging him up your body and into a kiss.

“D-did I do well?” Chileos says amidst tongues and saliva, grinding his furry lower half against your bare core.

“V-very well, Chileos.” A moaning gasp leaps up Chileos’ throat when you grab the base of his cock, guiding his head right to your sopping hole. “I think it’s time for your reward.”

Chileos’ eyes sparkle, hastily throwing his body weight on top of yours as he sinks in, balls deep, with just one thrust. You gasp, surprised by just how much you still stretch and burn around his cock.

Is he part centaur?! What is this-

Your own inner monologue stops still when Chileos starts to jackhammer his hips into you. His sweat and your cum stick his fur to your thighs and stomach, hung balls slapping against the crest of your ass.

“A-ah! This is the best day-” Chileos’ whole body shudders, but his pace never falters, “-the b-best day of my whole life!” Surprisingly muscled arms encircle around the small of your back, pulling you up and even closer into Chileos’ chest. He braces his hooves against the grass and hikes you up to rest your weight on his thighs, this new angle letting him hump and bounce you on his cock at the same time. Your pussy clenches, sensitive and raw from before, but chases the high of his cockhead hitting your cervix. 

Chileos is insatiable, licking and sucking at the crux of your neck like Tantalus himself, always fiending for a taste. Sweat pools between the cruz of your bodies yet he never slows in his thrusts, nor does he seem to struggle with holding you as he does. 

“Your pussy is so-o good.” Chileos slurs, still sloppily licking at your pulse. “I can’t believe I get to fill you up, feel you squeezing my cock as I pump you full.” The world spins as Chileos throws you back down onto the ground, though much gentler than you expected. He grabs the bottom of your legs and presses them against your chest, somehow reaching even deeper with his bulbous cock head. Your legs tremble, only held up by the weight of Chileos in between them. “Aah, I think I've reached the very end of you.” Drool drips down from Chileos mouth onto your cheek. In your debauchery, you don’t even care. “What Dionysian pleasure.”

Chileos swivels his hips in circles, just feeling his tip against your womb knowing he’s gonna pump it full of cum any minute now. 

His muscles are aching, his head as fuzzy as yours, but it’s back to business in no time at all, Chileos resuming the punishing thrusts of his cock. He feels like he’s splitting you open, that you’ll never know emptiness ever again.

“C-close.” Is all you can say, eyes rolled back into your head. Chileos gasps, an expression of true joy on his face.

“Let's cum together, please? Pretty please?” You didn’t think it was possible, but Chileos starts moving even fast, chasing your orgasm and his own. “Please, please, please I want to cum in you when you cum. Oh, please, Dionysus hear my prayers-”

The lascivious god must be listening, because your  second orgasm hits like a shockwave, your whole body tensing as you pussy milks Chileos like a cow. His eyes go cross as your tight walls push him over the edge, hips stuttering as he finally unloads inside you.

“Y-yes!”

Your stomach feels fuller as rockets of cum fill up your insides, spurting up over the sides and in between your ass. It takes a whole 10 seconds for all of Chileos’ seed to be spent, his cock twitching and shooting like a pump.

With his adrenaline fading, Chileos collapses on top of you. He stinks, sweat mixing with his goat hair as he nuzzles into you.

“B-best day…” His eyes finally close, sinking into a deep slumber, “...ever.”

[c0ffeejelly1]

Kinks I think he has

Reigen headcannon

Authors note: look yall. I know i didn’t really take this seriously BUT BUT BUTTT you either take it or leave it.

Warnings: NSFW Content

Praise kink

You kind of stumbled upon his kink by accident. It wasn’t like you were totally convinced, so you figured you’d give it a shot, and honestly, you were not disappointed.

Maybe it was the way he shivered in pleasure, the cutest little whine escaping his lips as you tell him how much of a good job he’s doing making you feel amazing.

“S-stop saying- fuck..stop saying stuff like that..”

It was impossible for him to conceal the redness that crept across his face.

He’d be lying if he didn’t say it flipped a switch inside of him. For that entire day, he was a beautiful mess, completely under your influence. He still denies it though.

Role playing

OKAY YOU NEED TO UNDERSTAND WHYY I BELIEVE THIS. So y’all know the episode with him and mob as highschool girls? Yeah.

His whole personality in the entire show is him being a conman, this man IS into role playing.

You probably have to be with him for a lil while for him to actually ask if you could both try it out, and yes you were willing to because this is reigen, and we’d do anything for him.

“Hey, um..babe?” He starts, shifting slightly in the bed you were already cosied up in.

“Yeah? Something up?”

“No, no..I just- well, y’know..was thinking..”

You set your phone aside and turn to look at him.

“..about?”

“Well um..it’s k-kinda embarrassing.” He adds, a flush creeping onto his cheeks.

“Reigen, baby, just spill it. I’m not gonna bite your head off.” He bites his lip for a moment before finally revealing his thoughts.

“Can we try roleplaying?”

“…like In Roblox?”

“What? No! The- the adult kind!”

“Ooh…I see what you mean.”

It would kick off with a light scenario of a forbidden romance between a boss and their employee, and to be honest he was happy with just that, because my GOD was it the best sex of his life.

Maybe it was because you were so into the role- I mean, who knew you could so hot? Seriously, one day he’s definitely going to ask you to ride him on his actual office chair.

Oral sex

This man is a sucker for receiving. Imagine him being so stressed from work after handling a spirit with mob that all he can do is just fall back on the couch and groan loudly about how long and hard his day has been.

This is the obvious sign you NEED to take before ripping off the restraints covering his oh so perfectly shaped cock..to you at least. Just give him a few licks at his tip, and he’s thanking you like you were an angel sent down just for him.

“Ah..f-fuck, what’d I do to d-deserve you..”

Seriously though, he’s so incredibly thankful for you and everything you’ve done for him. Bonus for you being able to just allow for him to relax like this. He could marry you if you asked for it. ONLY if you asked.

Now giving though.

This man is eating you WELL. Like proper devouring you. HAVE YOU SEEN THE WAY HE EATS AT THE DINER WITH MOB? BROS SCUFFING BURGERS DOWN HIS THROAT, HES SURE AS HELL SUCKING OUT EVERYTHING YOU’VE GOT.

Cock warming

Sometimes all a guy needs is his girl. Preferably in his lap..maybe also on his cock. So why not have the whole package? Cock warming.

I don’t see y’all really doing this often..maybe in his office, like once a blue moon? I’m not saying it HASN’T happened before though, but it’s not often because we ALL know YOU wouldn’t be able to control yourself and instead start riding the fuck outta this man. I would too don’t worry

Just imagine him complaining about how you keep moving around too much AGRHHH then he gets all “fuck, I might c-cum from that..” AND AND AND THEN HES BEGGING YOU TO ACTUALLY RIDE HIM PROPERLY AND HE CUMS AND EVERYONES HAPPY 🤗🤗 the end.

[mr-ys-phantasma]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1538

Chapter 25:

The teenager opened the package, and while you were busy placing the board on the low coffee table, he grabbed the instruction book.

He started to flip the pages, searching for the instructions on your language. "Uh, Spanish, Chinese...Ah, English." You all focused on him. "Okay... Number one, do not use the Ouija board alone. Number two, do not speak over each other... three! Do not taunt the spirits. "

Everyone looked at Agatha.

"What?" She exclaimed, feeling offended by the common assumption that she would be foolish enough to actually taunt spirits.

Well, it depended on which spirit would be unlucky enough to be chosen for this trial.

"I repeat, do not taunt the spirits. Fourth, do not ask about death. Five, always end your session with goodbye. Six, do not, under any circumstances, remove your hand from the planchette. If you do so, a spirit will be released."

Silence enveloped the group, none sure what to say or when to start. Sure, the clock was ticking but contacting spirits... spirits that can easily escape if they mess it up...

Lilia noticed that there was something written on the back of the book as well. "What does it say on the back?"

Teen flipped it over. "For ages three and up."

"Helpful," you commented, and everyone moved to grab pillows since you had to sit on the floor around the low coffee table.

You dropped a pillow on the space by Agatha's right, but as you went to sit, your lover pulled it even closer to her.

You glanced at her, seeing the faint fear and hesitaton in her blue eyes. She was scared, hesitating, and you did not blame her; considering she was now a powerless woman with a lot of angry dead enemies.

You said nothing as you took your seat, your folded legs brushing against her bare thigh. You placed your leg on her skin beneath the table, offering a comforting squeeze as everyone joined; Rio sitting by youth right left, leaving you trapped between the two witches.

With some hesitation, you all placed your hands on the pendulum.

"Mother, Maiden, Crone," Agatha started, making you glance at her since she voiced the three fates at the wrong order. She ignored you as she continued. "Spirits be known."

Suddenly, the pendulum started to move on it's own; freaking out Alice and Jen in the process, though something was telling you that someone alive was moving it.

"Is someone here with us during this Witching Hour?" Agatha asked as the pendulum was dragged across the board towards one word.

"Yes." Jen read, surprised.

"All right. And who, may I ask, do we have the pleasure of communing with?"

The pendulum moved again, moving from letter to the other; dragging you all with it as everyone did their best not to remove their fingers from it, aware of the warning.

"M, R, S, H, A, R, T." Teen spelt.

Jen gasped. "Mrs. Hart?" She then started to look around and up, feeling worried and still guilty that maybe she was mostly at fault for her death. "Hey, girl, feeling better? How's your face?"

Lilia glared at them. "No taunting."

Suddenly, the pendulum was pulled sharply, and fingers were removed from it, breaking one of the rules.

Seconds later, Agatha started to act odd, spinning her head and ponytail in an overdramatic fashion.

By instinct alone, you moved faintly away just as Agatha stopped; subconsciously pressing your body closer to Rio's. Agatha, then, stood up, a creepy odd smile on her face that was unlike her.

"Oh, my." Agatha started, speaking in a voice that was not hers. This one was rather squeaky. "What a journey." She sighed. "There I was, living my tiny life in the burbs, baking casseroles, linking in to conspiracy theories on Facebook, drinking before noon, and there you were bringing chills and thrills and bringing on my own early demise!"

Jen shallowed hard.

"Listen, Mrs. Hart..." she started, only to be interrupted by Alice.

"She's not Mrs. Hart." She corrected her fellow witch.

"She's Sharon Davis." Teen reminded everyone.

You frowned, seeing right through the act. First, the wrong beginning and now, the human woman spelling a different name on the Ouija board than her actual name.

"I am. I'm Sharon Davis." A 'possessed,' Agatga said.

In the end, you let out a heavy sigh. "She is not Mrs. Davis, she is Agatha. "

To your surprise, Lilia backed you up. "Yeah." She agreed.

"What?" Agatha questioned and faked giggle.

"She's just scared." Rio pointed out, making Agatha lose that creepy smile.

She cleared her throat. "Okay. I thought that was pretty good."

"The clock is ticking." Jen reminded her in her usual not so friendly tone.

Rio tapped Agatha's empty space, silently telling her to sit down and get over it.

In the end, Agatha obeyed and defeated placed her hands on the pendulum along with the others.

"Maiden, Mother, Crone," she started, this time using the correct order. "Spirits be known." Suddenly, there was a rustling sound coming from the ceiling. "Who is here with us tonight?"

The pendulum started to move above the letters, and everyone started to read the letters out loud.

D, E, A, T, H.

"Death." Teen exclaimed as Rio started to laugh like a maniac, earning different looks from the others around her.

You only rolled your eyes at the drama but quickly focused on the board as the spirit awaited its next question.

"What do you want?" Agatha asked, trying to remain calm, but her nerves were slowly getting the best of her.

The pendulum started to move again.

P U, N, I, S, H.

"Who do you wanna punish?"

Everyone started to read the letters out loud. "A, G, A...T, H...A... A, G, A, T, H, A..."

The same name was repeated again and again, each time the pendulum being dragged with even more force, almost making you fall on Alice and her on you as it continued.

Despite the begs, no one could stop it, and in the end; fear won over Agatha... and she pulled back.

"Agatha!" The Witches exclaimed as she had fallen and crawled away from the table, fear evident in her blue eyes.

"Fuck" you exclaimed as you were the first to stand up, the others following suit.

Agatha had pulled her hands back, meaning that whatever spirit was contacting them was now loose and clearly having a vendetta against Agatha.

You looked around in alarm, waiting for anything that might warn you of an incoming attack; though you were not sure what to expect.

You had never participated in any kind of spirit communication ritual or anything related to spirits. Not to mention, you had never fought any spirit or ghost before; thus, you were unsure if there was something you could actually do.

Unless someone knew how to exorcise them and maybe have confidently enough salt with them for any kind of ritual that might offer you the upper hand.

"What do they want?" Alice questioned as the witches gathered close by while Agatha remained on the floor, trying to hide the fact that she looked like a frightened little girl in front of them just a second ago.

Jen placed a hand on her waist. "They already told us. Punish Agatha!"

You immediately glared at her. Your hard stare continued and even went to the rest of the coven as they all started to suggest ways of punishing Agatha physically and emotionally.

Ropes, wounds, humiliations...

You almost snapped and attacked them at their words.

"Are you listening to yourselves?!" You exclaimed, your voice coming out louder than normal and drawing their attention.

"Come on, Y/N. The spirit told us what to do. It's how we pass the trial, " Jen argued.

To their surprise and not, you moved to stand between them and the fallen Agatha. "Fuck the spirit. This is not how we pass the trial"

"It's not like we will hurt her," Alice argued, trying to find the middle ground.

"I still think we should slit her throat," Rio commented, holding her knife, which had been changed into a box cutter to fit with the theme.

"I am still up for the rope and humiliation part," Jen voiced.

"When people ask me why I don't have female friends.." Agatha commented, trying not to show how affected she was by the fact that she was about to be betrayed by a coven, her coven, for a second time.

"No one will be harming Agatha in any way" you put your foot down, your temper flaring faintly and your magic was slowly coming alive in your hands; making the witches to look at you in surprise and slight fear.

Thankfully, there was one more person in the group who did not wish for the punishment to take place... Teen.

"But we were getting along, weren't we? We were clicking. There was unity." He argued.

Jen lifted a finger. "Familiars don't get a vote." She commented, earning a dark look that was unlike him.

Suddenly, the power went out, and the cabin was filled with darkness. It was then that Lilia noticed something.

"Where did she go?" Lilia asked, making everyone realise that Agatha had disappeared into thin air.

Chapter 26

[sebscore]

please write about the gzd doing twitch streams! she would have the most entertaining ones i think. she react to different grill the grid videos and funny f1 videos too.

GLASS HALF FULL KINDA GAL

pairings: f1 grid x driver!reader 

warnings: swearing. drunk reader. 

author's note: someone asked for gzd to do some streaming! I know it's not twitch, but i'm quite happy with the way this turned out! X 

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''Hello, everyone! I am here again, gracing you with my presence!'' Y/N greeted the thousands of people tuning into her Instagram live. 

She waved at the camera. ''I hope everyone had a great day or is about to have a great day, depends on where you live,'' she grinned, ''I'm here to live out my influencer life and unbox a package that has been delivered to me.'' 

Y/N grabbed the box from next to her so it was more visible on the screen. ''My good friend, Daniel Ricciardo sent me a box of his new wine collection,'' she showed the large logo to everyone, holding the box close to the camera, ''and I'm gonna try it out now.'' 

The young driver opens the package and picks out one of the three identical wine bottles. ''So this is called 'DR3 the Third Cabernet Sauvignon' and it was made in the South of Australia.'' She read the label out loud, an impressed look on her face. 

Y/N held the wine bottle up in front of her phone as if she were a Youtuber showing their viewers the make-up product they were using. ''Very, very pretty.'' 

She took the corkscrew that she had quickly grasped before starting the live and easily opened the bottle. ''This isn't my first time at the rodeo, guys.'' Y/N chuckled as she saw fans commenting about how she opened the bottle with ease. 

''Okay, let's taste this baby!'' Filling her glass with wine, she was excited to try Daniel's new wine. 

The young woman made several comedic attempts at seeming like a professional wine expert; smelling the drink and spinning her glass around. 

''Cheers, everyone!'' She tapped her glass against the screen of her phone. 

Y/N took a big sip from the wine, letting out a big ''Ah'' at the end. ''I love this! Holy Moly, Danny Ric!'' She drank from her glass again, immediately filling it up again. ''I'm a fan!'' 

She glanced at the comments, seeing a certain Australian man camping in there. ''Danny! You're here! I just drank it, it's amazing!'' 

| danielricciardo that's some fine wine

| danielricciardo happy you like it 💙

| danielricciardo say hi to me, pls

| danielricciardo HI Y/N!!

''Hi, Daniel! I miss you, haven't seen you in a while.'' Y/N pouted, waving to the camera. ''You better be there in Melbourne! It won't be the same otherwise.'' She said, trying to come across as threatening. 

| danielricciardo will be there 😎

| danielricciardo miss you too 

| landonorris you're drinking again? 

Y/N rolled her eyes at the entrance of the Brit. ''Fuck off, Lando. People who have won a Grand Prix get to drink on a livestream.'' She teased him, a smirk on her face. 

| landonorris okay, that is mean 

| landonorris drink then i guess 

Before she knew it, her once full glass was empty again. ''Let's fill you up, eh?'' She cringed as the words left her mouth. ''Ew- that sounds disgusting. Forget I said that.'' 

''Dan, good thing you put three bottles in here- I'm really enjoying myself and these babies.'' The 'babies' being the wine bottles. 

| alex_albon a Y/N drunk live? don't want to miss that 

''Albono!'' She greeted Alex, excitedly. ''Where is Lily, though? I want her here.'' 

| alex_albon my presence isn't good enough for you? 😒

''No, your presence is not good enough.'' Y/N bluntly answered, grinning from ear to ear. 

She scratched her voice. ''Am I drinking this too fast? My glass is almost done and I refilled it like 2 minutes ago.'' The driver observed her glass, frowning when she saw it was almost empty again. 

| danielricciardo yes, you are drinking too fast

| landonorris no, you're not

| landonorris drink faster 

| landonorris I can drink way faster 😌

''Norris, are you challenging me?'' She raised her eyebrow at the camera as if she was looking at Lando in real life. ''Accepted, Rumple.'' 

| alex_albon this is a disaster waiting to happen

| lilymhe you look lonely, Y/N 😏💋

''Lily! My wife is here, guys!'' Y/N yells as soon as she saw Lily's comment. ''I do look lonely,'' she smirked, ''I bet you can fix that.'' 

| alex_albon STOP IT 

| alex_albon ENOUGH 

| lilymhe wait for me ❤️❤️❤️

''Alex, you stop it with the jealousy! Never let someone's boyfriend stop you from finding your wife, guys!'' She told the viewers as if she was a teacher telling her students about an important subject. 

Y/N took another big gulp from her wine, leaving it empty. ''Should I just drink from the bottle, cause I don't plan on stopping soon.'' She showed said bottle to the viewers as if they could talk back to her. 

''Oh, fuck it.'' She put her glass away and started drinking from the bottle itself. 

| danielricciardo CALM DOWN

| georgerussell63 You worry me sometimes. 

''Go away, Russell George!'' Y/N exclaimed, waving her hand at the camera. ''You only drink tea, you're not allowed to judge me.'' 

''I'm just joking, you can stay.'' The pretend annoyed look on her face was replaced for a genuine smile. ''As long as you don't judge me, you British tall glass of water.'' The driver quickly added with a teasing grin. 

| georgerussell63 I have to go.

| georgerussell63 I have to make tea 😉

| landonorris BYE GEORGE 👋👋👋👋

''Anyway,'' Y/N gave the camera a sassy look, ''we should turn this into a Q&A! If you have questions for me- please leave them in the comments!'' She loudly clapped her hands together, scaring herself at the loud sound. 

| user1 Y/N, are you drunk yet? 

''No, I'm not drunk,'' the woman answered, ''I have a very high alcohol tolerance!'' 

| landonorris she doesn't

| danielricciardo No, you really don't 

| pierregasly you were on the floor after one pastis 😅

''Shut up and when did Pierre get here?'' Y/N shook her head at her colleagues' comments. ''Gasly, you don't know what you're talking about.'' She dismissed his reply, despite knowing he's telling the truth. 

| user2 there's something behind you

Y/N's eyes widened at the comment, slowly looking behind her. ''Dude- fuck off! Don't say stuff like that! I don't have a ghost in my house!'' She put her hand on her heart, feeling the rapid beating underneath her palm. 

''It would be cool to have one, though.'' She thought deeply. ''Like, I would be less lonely and we could keep each other company… I hope they're like, cool, like not a serial killer, you know? Or a child- UGH! Please, don't let it be a child! I like kids, but I don't want to have one and especially not a ghost one.'' 

| landonorris who is youre favourite driver? 🤭

| georgerussell63 It is 'your', Lando. 

| alex_albon your* 

| landonorris don't you have drivers to hit? 

''My favourite driver? Well, Lando, that's an excellent question! My answer is Lewis Hamilton! My favourite McLaren driver of all time.'' She smiled evilly. 

| landonorris 😑

| danielricciardo excuse me

| danielricciardo that's my wine you are drinking 😤

''Danny, you're my second favourite! And my bottle is almost done so you can see that I'm really appreciating the wine.'' Y/N defended her answer, once again showing the bottle to the camera. 

| user3 How old are you? 

''I'm 23!'' She replied, excitedly. ''That's also the amount of brain cells Lando has, funny enough.'' 

| landonorris meanie 

| landonorris I don't want to be your friend anymore 😢

''Wait- we were friends to begin with? Oh, Lando…'' Y/N dramatically shook her head, sighing in feigned disappointment as if she were a teacher upset with her student. ''You have so much to learn about the real world.'' 

''Also, now that we're on the topic of the real world,'' she started off speaking about the new thought that had somehow found its way into her head, ''Pluto.'' 

''Like, I feel so bad for them. They were just chilling, you know? And then on one tragic day, they were just kicked out - as if they were nothing. I wonder how they're doing these days. I was heartbroken when I received the news. The solar system hasn't been the same without them.'' She bumped her fist on her chest and pointed at the sky, shouting Pluto out. 

| danielricciardo pls stop drinking

| danielricciardo you're doing it again

| user4 WHY IS SHE TALKING ABOUT PLUTO BEING KICKED OUT OF THE SOLAR SYSTEM HELP 

| user5 SHES SO DRUNK OMFG 

''That second bottle is looking very sexy right now, I can't lie.'' Y/N eyed the second bottle in the wine box, pursing her lips. 

| alex_albon Y/N NO! 

| pierregasly dude, you're on live 😂😂😂

| user6 DONT DRINK MORE 

''You know when you tell a child that they shouldn't do something, but it makes them want to do it even more? Yeah, that is what's happening right now.'' The driver chuckled, grabbing the bottle out of the box and opening it with the corkscrew. 

''I already know I'm going to regret this, but frankly, I don't give a shit.'' And with that she took a large gulp of the wine. 

| user7 do you want to become world champion this year? 

Y/N gave the camera a side-eye as she read the question out loud. ''I mean… isn't that kinda the point? HA! No, I'm just doing all of this for funsies.'' 

''But Max will probably win this year again… I'm gonna try to not let that happen, but that Red Bull… it's too good.'' She sighed, getting more real thinking about the season. 

''You know… maybe the real World Championship is the friends we made along the way.'' 

| charles_leclerc oh, you are really drunk 😂

| pierregasly I told you, charlito 

| zhouguanyu24 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

| landonorris someone needs to hack her account and stop this 

''Please, don't hack my account.'' Y/N said in a monotone voice. ''Am I acting bad or something? I'm just answering questions, Lando.'' 

| nicorosberg Hello, Y/N! 👋

''BRITNEY!'' The young woman exclaimed as she noticed the former driver's comment. ''You know how this shit works? Damn, what can't Nico Rosberg do?'' 

''You're still my favourite Monaco-based Youtuber, by the way.'' She winked at the camera, pretending it is the German she's winking at. ''I can't believe I have a World Champion watching my Instagram live.'' 

''You really are a legend for 2016, Brit.'' 

| nicorosberg Thank you! 

| danielricciardo I think it's time to log off, Y/N… 

| user8 NOT HER TALKING TO NICO LIKE THAT 😭😭

| user9 Y/N PLS TALK ABOUT BROCEDES WE KNOW YOU GOT THE TEA ☕️☕️

| user10 lewis and seb watching this : 👁👄👁

''Gentlemen, a short view back to the past-''

THE LIVE HAS ENDED

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[spacebaby1]

Thoughts on moving in with Rindou? Going furniture shopping, packing and unpacking, becoming roomies with Ran (brother package deal fr), etc. Now that you live with Rindou you have easy access to snatch his shirts to sleep in ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

Rindou loved you more than anything and anyone in his life, which made him concerned about you living away from him. All he ever wanted was to wake up beside you and knowing that you both find it hard to meet up because you lived a bit further away from where he lived. Rindou had been thinking about this the whole morning; he was going to ask you to move in with him, it's been more than a year since you two got in a relationship and he thought it's more than enough to be able to move in. You put up with him more than any other partner ever did, and he was absolutely sure that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

Both of you had decided to meet at the small cafe before you got to work.

"Hey, Sweetie!" You greeted him with a soft smile going in for a hug and he kissed your cheek before hugging you tight. "Ah, I missed my beautiful girl so much, you look stunning." You giggled, "says you, handsome. So how you've been? I missed you so so much." You pouted and he smiled giving a small kiss, "I'm better when I'm with you, come on let's sit down."

Both of you ordered your coffee and catch up to what have happened in the time you were away while Rindou nervously tapped his feet mostly unable to focus on your words because he was nervous to ask you the question and he just blurted it out as he placed his hands on yours, "would you move in with me love?"

You both exchanging a silence look before you smiled at him, "that's a big commitment-"

"Yes! I know and I want you with me everyday, I don't want to go on more days without you in my arms whenever I get home or when I wake up in the morning. Would you?"

"You mean it?" The soft look on your face made his heart melt as he nodded taking your hand in his and giving it a small soft kiss, "Okay! I will move in with you, Baby." He got up and picked you up in a hug spinning you around. "Would Ran be okay with me moving in?" You asked when he put you down. Rindou nodded with a smile, "Ran would be happy! He won't mind at all."

The following day Rindou and Ran decided to help you pack your apartment and honestly you didn't need that much packing because you were just a simple girl with simple important things in your space. "Is that it?" Ran asked packing the last box of your books; the only things you find important in your apartment were your books, clothes, bed and few plants. "Wow, you should see the random things in my room it's more than the whole apartment of yours." You laughed at that because you knew how Ran liked to collect the most random things.

"Okay, wow! This room is bigger than my whole apartment." You gasped as you entered the room that was supposed to be yours, Both Rindou and Ran helped to put the boxes away, "we should go room furniture shopping later since we still have time." Rindou suggested to which you happily agreed because you sadly couldn't move the bed frame and your old bookshelf was broken. Ran decided to take a nap while You and Rindou went shopping.

"How about that one?" Rindou pointed at the silver bed frame. You nodded with a smile, "You said you don't like loud furniture, so we'll get you whatever you like." You pouted at how Rindou remembered the details about the things you liked and disliked.

The unpacking everything away right after getting home was too tiring that the three of you were exhausted by the time you were done unpacking and it was already midnight, Ran had already went to bed before the both of you and all of you were too tired to unpack the bed frame to which you sighed, "forgot the bed, I'll take the couch tonight." Rindou shook his head barley able to stay awake, "Nah, that couch is gonna break your neck, you can take my bed, I'll take the floor " you waved your hands at him, "we'll share the bed, not me taking your bed. It's not like we didn't share a bed before." Even at his tired self, Rindou blushed at your words while you just gave him a sleepy smile. You immediately fell asleep when you got in Rindou's bed; it was him struggling to sleep because you were just too cuddly and liked cuddling into him. He kept caressing your hair with a soft smile on his face as you slept, snoring softly on his chest.

Living with the haitani brothers was amazing and always fun. You loved cooking, and Ran loved eating, so every time you had a day off, he'd get home all excited because he knew that you'd be cooking a feast for him and Rindou. Rindou would show off his DJ skills, and both you and Ran would cheer him; sometimes, team up to laugh at his bad DJ songs. While Ran wouldn't go through a movie night before falling asleep in the first twenty minutes, Rindou and you would have a movie marathon one after another on weekends.

You'd often do their hair, especially Ran's pigtails, and massage Rindou's head because he'd easily get a random headache and would be a big baby about it, but you didn't mind. Ran would bake often because, surprisingly, he made the best cookies in the whole world. And when the laundry gets mixed up you'll sometimes end up wearing their Sweaters because it was in your clothes. Rindou would fight the blush everytime he'd find you wearing his shirts, or Sweaters.

[sco-ot]

aegon this and aemon that.

i am sorry but, i will never understand the need to make jon snow this targaryen super star, determined to claim his birthright as rhaegar's son, with a valyrian name, a dragon and an aunt-wife to complete the package.

like this boy, who grew up with THE ned stark, who's whole damn life was ruined by those albino incest freaks, this boy, who probably grew up with tales of lyanna stark as a girl stolen from her family. is not gonna go "ah yes, now it all makes sense, i must take the throne, it's my destiny and what my father would have wanted for me!" as soon as he learns of his parentage.

and in that same vein him having a valyrian name makes no sense in the context that his prophecy obsessed valyrian sire was so SURE that he was getting a girl that any name but visenya wasn't considered, and he died before finding out that visenya was no longer an option.

the idea that lyanna or ned would have given him a valyrian name is laughable. so if jon must really have a valyrian name, then it would be ionos which is the valyrian version on jon.

[elderwisp]

◁ || ▷

Syx: So when I said find a hobby, I didn’t mean buy a fixer-upper.

Icarus: I know!

Syx: Ok but if you knew then why?!

Icarus: Because it’s better than half of the shitholes on the market!

Syx: I bet I could find something better. Watch.

Icarus: NO! No.

Ares: Why are you guys yelling? I have such a bad headache.

Icarus: Can’t handle your liquor anymore? 

Ares: I can leave. 

Icarus: Oh he’s cranky.

Syx: Incredibly.

Winona: Hey! Uh, sorry to bother you losers but Icarus, there’s people outside.

Icarus: Huh?

-

Icarus: Hello! 

Umber: Hi, we heard someone moved into the old house on the gulch and we wanted to welcome you. Hope you don’t mind!

Icarus: Not at all. 

Umber: I’m Umber, this is my son Wren. My wife Juniper. Talia and my sister Sienna. Wow that was a mouthful. 

Icarus: [ chuckles ] Icarus and my sister Winona. These are my friends, Syx and Ares. My grandma is…

Winona: Sleeping.

Icarus: Ah, yes.

Juniper: We brought some apple pie for all of you. 

Winona: Mom used to make this all the time! Icarus, maybe she can teach you how to bake. 

Icarus: Oh-

Juniper: Actually, Sienna here made it. I just packaged it up. 

Icarus: We’ll have to say thanks, right Winona? Winona?

Winona: Sup. You guys cool?

Wren: Probably.

Winona: Sick.

Sienna: Nice to meet the fool that bought this place.

Icarus: Uh-

Umber: Christ Sienna-

Sienna: A joke!

Icarus: I mean you aren’t wrong.

Sienna: See? He agrees. Anyways, let us know if you need any help.

Icarus: I appreciate it. 

Icarus: So how long have you lived here?

Umber: Whole life. It’s rare when people leave.

Icarus: Ah. What happened to the folks who owned this home?

Umber: Old age, a sweet couple, they never had kids. They always said the whole town was ‘nough. With no one to take care of the house, things got rough to say the least.

Icarus: I see.

Umber: [ chuckles ] How’s it coming along?

Icarus: Bad, honestly. The cleanup took a few days. 

Umber: I wonder how many trash bags it took.

Icarus: Plenty. Cleared out the store down the street.

Umber: I bet Bill loved that.

Icarus: Definitely, the guy let me take home a soda. Sun’s hot here. No one tells you that.

Umber: Wait ‘til summer.

Icarus: Oh boy. Some of the pipes were damaged and on top of that we needed an electrician.

Umber: Was it expensive?

Icarus: Very. Most of the foundation is good but I replaced a few beams. That was difficult. 

Umber: Well next time you do that, let me know. I can help you out. We don’t want the house collapsing on ya.

Icarus: Wouldn’t that be something.

Umber: You’d be in some deep shit to say the least. 

Icarus: [ chuckles ] I guess so. Wanna see the house?

Umber: Lead the way.

[in-daddy-price-we-trust]

All I Wanted - Part 3

summary: when you are kidnapped discovered by TF141 they can't help but fall in love.

pairing: 141 x fem!teen!reader (platonic)

warnings: mentions of child abuse, drugs, canon typical violence, kidnapping

Part 1 Part 2

A/N: so uh.. not dead.. I kinda forgot about thos between school and life so apologies for not posting.. for two months.. anyways, enjoy the chapter <3

You POV

Soap continued to ramble on about this and that, with Gaz occasionally butting in when necessary, as the pair showcased the base to you and how they weren't staying much longer. Something about how they had better chances finding this Nombre person in Mexico, where they were originally.

Gaz brought up the other members when they entered the shooting range, just past the training room. Apparently the barracks were deeper into the facility, (how much you believe that you aren't entirely sure). He pointed to two figures standing next to eachother, conversing with adoration in their eyes, "That's Alejandro-" you followed his finger to the taller of the two, "-And that's Rudy, they're a package deal if you get what I mean," To ensure his comment came across perfectly, Gaz shot you a wink.

With a clap on the back, Soap pushed you towards the two lovebirds. It was Alejandro who noticed you first, "Ah, here she is! Hola, niña, estas muy pequeño!" Rudy looked at the man fiercely before elbowing him in the ribs, "Qué? I was just pointing out the obvious mi vida!" A long sigh left Rudy at Alejandro's incompetence.

"So sorry about him, Ale can be, stupid occasionally," Rudy's smile was warm and inviting. Alejandro scowled at Rudy before giving a sympathetic grin towards you, a nod of the head as an apology.

"Do you want to show us how well you can shoot?" Soap gestured to the gun poking out of the duffle bag, a cheeky look in his eyes.

You moved too quickly for them to register, the eye piercing pink with hello kitty, kirby and cat stickers moulded into the metal of the rifle. A sparkly purple keychain dangling from it, blue stars twinkling alongside. The hold was confident, strong and firm, an aim to please familiar to the hardened soldiers.

Gaz gave a soft chuckle at the obvious excitement, pointing in the direction of the shooting range. Lines of plywood separating lanes with hip level metallic benches. Long pathways with human shaped targets, most paper but a few were made of a harder substance such as cardboard. Some of these were hidden behind more bits of scrap wood.

Practically skipping over and setting up the perfect first shot. And that's what it was; well maybe to some it could have been better but instantly the gun continued to fire again at a different target, and then another and another. Bullet casings falling past your face at each reload.

To be honest, you could have gone the whole day, it was when a hand on your shoulder pulled you away from the rhythmic sound of metal hitting the cold concrete. The action made you jerk, a startled yelp following as you whipped your head to the side, staring up at Skully. A very audible gulp was heard throughout the now silent room.

For a while nothing happened. A staring contest happening between the two of you before he spoke up, "..Sorry.." his voice was rough and deep, the words so softly spoken you were sure you misheard the behemoth of a man. "Good shot kiddo, but think about breathing. You're gonna make yourself pass out if you hold ya' breath for that long, hmm?" His eyes were an endless void of darkness, the coffee and gold colours swirling into a beautiful helix of patterns. The words soaked into your brain as you came to the conclusion.

"Yes Sir!" The smile plastered on your face was one of pure adoration, the twinkle in your eyes matching that on the glitter sparkling on the rifle, still clasped in your almost too small hands.

-

The shooting lasted a while. Each man giving tips and tricks to you, letting you improve on your gunmanship. Eventually, the sun slowly lowered in the sky, and the canteen opened for dinner. A selection of grimy looking slop, greens, beans and a lukewarm soup.

They gave recommendations of what to have and what to avoid (mostly the slop). The soup was better than you thought. Leek and potato. Though, there weren't any potatoes in it, just soft clumps of leek with other veggies thrown in to pad it out.

Tables weren't assigned in the mess hall, but it seemed each group had claimed a table. You bit your lip, standing in the middle, tray in hand. A whistle caught your attention, Gaz calling you over to their table.

You set the tray down next to Ghost before Price walked in, marching over to table 141. He gave you a warm smile as he saw you eating. "Glad to see ya eating, dolly," in return, you gleamed up at him, a spoonful of soup making its way down your throat.

At least half an hour passed, the group chattering and giggling at the stories and jokes that were passed around, before a yawn interrupted the fun. It was Soap who noticed - "Aye lass, ya tir'd?" a meek nod a was All it took before he started to rise, being stopped by the Captain.

"I've got her Johnny. Cmon dolly, I'll show ya you're room," A hum was all that followed.

The walk was comfortable, going back through the winding halls and plain walls. Price stopped abruptly at one of the doors, Knockin on the solid wood. "Here ya are. I put ya next to me, hope you don't mind, you get a bigger room- and~" He drew out the ending as he opened the door, "-an ensuite bathroom!"

You giggled at the man, going in and exploring the room a bit. "Does that mean I have to listen to your snoring, sir?" It was said cheekily, the smirk evident on your face and the chuckle on his lips.

"Aye, so better invest in some ear plugs!"

Giggles erupted from you, turning to face him. Braces were on show with how wide your grin was. "Thank you.." was all that was said. And a nod was all that was needed, Price turned leaving the room with a click of the door.

You faceplanted onto the bed, soft duvet covers wrapping around you like a burrito as sleep quickly overcame you. Soft snores left you as the moon rises high into the sky.

-

taglist: @urfavsunkissedleo @greenkiki @daryldixonh0e @elijahssuit @theunknownartistsworld @rafaelacallinybbay @cycy-nicole @romanticizedillness @thedeluded @blueoorchid @guiltyconfessions @r3dc4ndy @unnoticed-human @crazyfandomist @jaymum @chb-7 @chromslover @connierk690 @lilpothoscuttings @darkfaethedestroyer @cptg00s3 @elvyshiarieko @8-29pm @howlerwolfmax @minkyungseokie @tapioca-marzipan @cinnamoroll-things @kittythebloodykiller @thicc-plum @phoenixmistycal @marytvirgin @eddiesbitch83 @dwkfan @kdkj122920 @deakyspuff @dressycobra7 @swaggbella @sarraa-26 @autrefleur @revengze @elvyshiarieko @dweebsthings @maeplayscello

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Same as it ever was 11

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as neglect, bullying, manipulation, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Between your home life and work, you just can’t catch a break. Especially after you draw the ire of your boss.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen ft. Pete Brenner

Note: I'm just tryna get through the week.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The waiting room is excruciating. You find yourself standing more than you sit. Both are torture. Your concern mounts with your discomfort and the more you think of Hansen’s response. He’s a demanding asshole, he told you several times he takes what he wants, but today, he let you go. Even he could see something was seriously wrong.

Funny how you never dread the doctor so much when you’re there for Simone or Malik, but for yourself, it makes your insides knot. You can’t even think of the last time you made an appointment for yourself. That’s probably not good either.

As the doctor examines you and goes over your symptoms, you wince and struggle not to keel over. He’s patient and gentle, treatment you’re unused to. That stray realisation is even grimmer as it sticks in your head.

“Hmm, I’m going to be optimistic and say it’s a bruised tailbone,” he explains, “we can send you for imaging to check for a fracture but it wouldn’t likely be possible today. I’ll call the lab with a request, just to make sure.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” you lean on the examination table, “so what does that mean? Painkillers? Stretches?”

“Rest,” he points at you with his gold pen, “avoid sitting. You want to keep pressure off the tailbone. Lay on your stomach when you sleep.” He tucks his pen in his coat pocket and goes to the cabinet in the corner by the sink, “you’ll want to keep this handy.” He opens the door and slips out a box, “it’ll help.”

As he gives you the box, you consider the image of the donut cushion on the front. The inflatable seat is stuffed into the tight package. You’re not unfamiliar with it.

“Apply ice. Every twenty minutes for the next two days, then two to three times a day should work,” he takes his pen out and his little pad, writing as he talks. “Make your husband do some of the chores.”

You cringe. You nod as you accept his advice. You were just about to argue; you have two kids and a job.

“I’m writing you a note. You’re not working for a week at least. I’ll fax a letter that should be acceptable for the time-off,” he rips off the top page and hands it over.

“Thank you,” you utter again as you look at his chicken scratch. “What is this?”

“Something for the pain and something for your blood pressure.”

“My blood pressure?”

“Your readings are elevated. It could be stress, it could be anything. Right now, I want you to keep track. Measure it and write it down. Come back in a month so we can go over the numbers.”

“Is it that bad?”

“At your age, it’s not entirely unusual,” he assures you, “better we catch it before it’s too serious. You get headaches? Feel tired?”

“Well, I have kids, I’m always tired and yes, they give me headaches sometimes,” you shrug.

“How often do the headaches come?”

“I don’t know, sometimes two or three times a week.”

“Do you have a history of migraines?”

“Not since college,” you answer.

“Ah,” he nods. “Take the pills, icy your tailbone, and stay in bed.”

“Doctor,” you go to argue.

“If it isn’t already a break, you’ll make it one,” he girds, “the lab will call you about your imaging appointment.”

You swallow down his orders. They’re much easier to follow than Hansen’s. And surely better for you. You thank him once more and leave the room, stopping by the counter to give your work address and get your imaging paperwork.

As you get to the car, you unpack the cushion and use the little pump to inflate it. You drop it on the seat and get in. It still hurts like a bitch but not intolerable. You sit behind the wheel and stare. 

You could cry as you go over the appointment. Is it that obvious that you don’t take care of yourself? That you don’t have time? The doctor saw right through you and that brings it all flooding in. You’re barely holding it all together, you’re not sure how much longer you can.

You make yourself start the car and pull out of the lot. You go down to the pharmacy and turn in the script, wandering the aisles as you wait for it to be filled. You take out your phone to check the time. A missed call from Pete and another from Hansen. You don’t have the energy for either of them. Once you have your meds, you have to get the kids.

You claim your prescriptions and start your race against time. Waiting to see the doctor alone took up the bulk of your day. Now you have to get through the rest.

You nearly speed up to the curb of the school, at the tail end of the pick-up as the clock ticks on. You roll around as you see Simone and Malik waiting with Mrs. Guinness. You roll down the window and wave, thanking her loudly as the kids rush to the car.

You get out to strap Malik into his seat as Simone grips her book in her lap but doesn’t open it. You’re breathing loudly as the pain coils around your spine. You muffle it and give her a smile as she watches you. Her eyes dart to the front seat.

“Mom, are you okay?”

“Good,” you say as you snap the buckles together.

“What’s that for?” She points to the cushion.

“The seat’s uncomfortable,” you grunt and push yourself out of the back door. 

You shut the door and get in the front. You settle in, clicking in your own belt and fix your mirror. Simone is smart, too smart. She’s quiet as you shift into drive.

“Mommy, mommy! We played a game today–”

“Shh,” Simone interjects, silencing her brother, “mom,” she utter tenuously, “are you pregnant?”

You nearly scoff as you grip the wheel tight. You laugh and shake your head. “Why would you ask that?”

“Well…” she lets her thoughts hang in the air before she speaks to them, “you and dad have been… arguing and you have that cushion.”

“Trust me, I’m too old,” you shake your head, “don’t worry, you won’t be having another little brother.”

“Oh,” she hums, disappointed, “I was hoping for a sister.”

You take a breath. It’s all so complicated but some of it isn’t. They’re going to know sooner than later.

“Look, the cushion is because I hurt myself. I was waiting until we got home to tell you but I fell and hit my bum pretty bad. Got some bruising is all,” you explain lightly, “doctor says I’m good, just need to rest.”

“Mommy’s hurt?” Malik babbles. 

“Oh,” Simone accepts again, “I… does dad know?”

“He’s been working but I’m gonna give him a call,” you fight to keep your tone steady, “he’s gonna have to come home and help me out a bit.”

“Mommy, you can have Donny, he’ll make you feel better.”

“Mal, she doesn’t want your stupid dragon.”

“Sim,” you rebuff, “don’t be mean. Malik, you can bring Donny in to snuggle with me, okay? That’s really nice of you.”

“Ugh,” Simone huffs and you see her roll her eyes in the rear view.

“Sim, do you have enough time between chapters to help with dinner?” You tease. She doesn’t answer. “Oh, don’t worry, I can manage some mac and cheese on my own.”

You flip on the radio and let the music waft through the car, trying to push away the other worries. You are going to have to call Pete but you really don’t know how much help he’s going to be.

🗄️

You pull into the driveway and repress a groan. You’re really starting to feel it. Your legs are numb yet painful. You push yourself out of the car and grab your purse and the cushion, your keys jingling loudly in your hand.

You open the back door but Simone’s too quick. She’s right beside you, waving you off.

“I’ll get him out,” she insists, “the doctor said.”

“I know what the doctor said,” you chuckle, “thanks, Sim.”

Another car door snaps shut from somewhere unseen. You don’t think much of it as other neighbours often get home at the same time. You wait patiently for your daughter to unbuckle Malik as he squirms impatiently.

“About damn time,” the timbre roils in the air hotly.

You almost let a ‘shit’ slip through your lips as Hansen’s voice makes you tense. You squeeze the cushion and look over Simone’s head at him. She lifts Malik down onto the ground and she turns to face your uninvited guest.

“Ew, it’s him,” she sneers.

“Nice to see you too, toots,” he struts up the walk with his hands in his pockets, “isn’t this sweet? Got the whole clan together.”

“What are you doing here?” Simone challenges.

He tilts his head, brows arching, “you know, maybe I should give your mom some time off so she can teach you some manners.”

“Hansen,” you put your hand on Simone’s shoulder and sidle past her and echo the same question, “what are you doing here?”

“I’m actually being a good guy,” he leans around, speaking to Simone pointedly, “not evil at all. Checking in since I sent you off to the hospital.”

You hesitate. That’s not exactly believable. You know why he’s here; to taunt you. At least he has the discretion to try to hide that from your children.

“Bruised tailbone, doctor is sending a letter, I’ll have to take a few days off to recover,” you say cautiously, knowing he won’t like the news.

“A few days…” he mulls with a sour expression, “bullsh–” he stops himself as Malik comes for to cling to your leg, peeking out from behind you.

“Mommy,” your son whines, “I wanna go inside.”

“Tell him to go away,” Simone hisses.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hansen, I gotta get the kids inside and make dinner–”

“You can do all that but you can’t drag your –behind– to work,” he challenges.

“I have a doctor’s note–”

“I don’t f–” he struggles to censor himself, stopping as he waves off his agitation. He exhales and wipes the frustration from his face, “you’re right. You’re in bad shape, it’s plain to see. So where’s the husband? Shouldn't he be here doing the heavy lifting?”

“My dad’s on his way home,” Simone insists.

“Yeah, he’ll be here soon,” you repeat her lie, “to help.”

“Well, he ain’t,” Hansen bounces on his feet, “but I am, so why don’t I help you out, huh? We need you back to work,” he reaches for your purse, latching onto the strap. “So you should rest.”

“Dude, go,” Simone snarls and pushes his arm.

“Hey,” he growls back at her. “I’m helping.”

“We don’t want your help. She’s not at work, you don’t boss her around here.”

“Simone, Mr. Hansen,” you snip, “please.”

“I’m being a nice guy,” Lloyd retracts his hand and throws it up, “she’s the one making this hard.”

You look at your daughter as she sticks her tongue out.

“She’s twelve,” you state.

“Yeah, and what are you? Sixty?” Simone accuses him.

He recoils, his lashes batting violently, “excuse me?”

“Oh my god,” you sigh, “Simone, take your brother inside,” you hold your keys out, “let me talk to him. It’s just work.”

“And the doctor said–”

“Please, Simone, thank you,” you shake the keys.

She sniffs and takes them. She blows a raspberry at Hansen as she grabs Malik and tears him away from your legs. You rub your neck, the donut cushion around your elbow, as you wait, staring at Hansen as he watches over your shoulder.

“Why?” You ask pointedly.

“What? I’m being good. I let you see a doctor for your fucked up booty and now I’m just tryna fill the hole left by that deadbeat–”

“Not in front of my kids,” you say.

“I was polite.”

“You are arguing with a twelve year old,” you shake your head, “please, I will do my best to get back to work. I know you don’t give a shit but I’m in so much pain, I can’t handle this right now. So please, go.”

“Huh, alright, let’s understand something here, you might be a little broken at the moment but you don’t tell me what to do,” he snarls, “that’s the first thing. Second, you put a muzzle on that daughter–”

“Don’t,” you warn.

“That mouth,” he points in your face, “it’s the ass that’s bruised, not that.”

You clamp your lips tight as your nostrils flare. You stand in a deadlock, silently glaring back at your boss. You feel the tension ready to snap. This is the moment where you could fuck everything up.

Neither of you speak, each measuring your next word but almost afraid to say it. A screech of tires veers in behind your car and fills the end of the driveway. You flinch and look past Hansen as Pete’s garish sports car beams back at you.

“Just in time,” Hansen mutters as he turns slowly.

Pete hops out and swings the door shut, almost frantic as his hair flops forward.

“Hey, I’ve been calling,” he puffs and stops short as he notices Hansen, “uh, everything okay? Where… are the kids?”

“Inside,” you eke out, clearing the frog from your throat, “everything is good, alright?” You try to convince yourself as much as your husband, “Mr. Hansen was just checking in. I missed work today. I went to see the doctor about… my fall.”

Pete blanches and nods, giving a guilty glance to his leather shoes.

“Yeah?” He dares to look at you, “you okay?”

“Bruised,” you answer bluntly, “so I was just telling Mr. Hansen that I am fine. I just need a few days to rest. And I was going to call to tell you the same but I had to get the kids.”

“Your wife’s a busy woman,” Hansen interjects, “hard worker. And she speaks so highly of you, bud.” He claps Pete’s shoulder, “you’re a businessman?”

Pete twitches, as if surprised. He looks at Hansen’s grasp on his shoulder but doesn’t shove it off. There’s a moment of recognition in his eye. Men and their ‘business’.

“Yeah, I run a fitness agency. We do equipment and training, aiming to get into the big leagues, you know, furnish facilities on the National scale,” Pete goes into his pitch.

“Ah, fitness, thriving right now,” Hansen slips easily into his role, “you know, I’m not wearing Louis Vuittons because I work in a dipshit office. I invest and I do it well.” He pulls his hand back and puts it on his hip, “why don’t you tell me more about this agency? I’m intrigued.”

You just stare. This has been an awful, painful day and it just won’t end.

“Uh, yeah, sure, come on in,” Pete sputters excitedly, waving him up the drive. “I got all my stuff in my bag.”

“Great, dinner’s on me,” Hansen offers, “for your time.”

“Oh, awesome,” Pete grins, “I’ll just get my bag out of the car. Honey,” he turns to you.

“Uh, yeah,” you swallow as Hansen faces you with a smirk, “right this way.”

You turn and hug the cushion against your stomach, each step tender and tingling. You sense him behind you, too close for comfort. He snickers quietly as you get to the door. You stop with your hand on the handle.

“Please,” you whisper.

“Be good and I will be, too,” he shoots back.