#and also because there is a handful of ladies who would not let me rest

[beloveds-embrace]

So, someone may have already thought about this, but after reading the comments from other folks in the neglected!aus of the Dukedom, I'm looking for a sliver of hope for poor Duchess.

What if there is a newly-hired maid who actually gives a shit about Duchess's well-being, but also not one to take bs? When she notices the duchess being treated unfair, she's quick to ask the rest of the staff. They're no help, and John just turns a blind eye to it. "If you're so worried, then why don't you take care of her yourself?" says half-heartedly.

Challenge accepted (with the utmost diligence).

Because regardless of how things are, she's not gonna let The Lady of The House wither and waste away. Anything Duchess needs, Sweet Maid will be the one to take care of it, not accepting any help or pity from anyone. Plus, less problems means less rumors.

The manor was cold.

Not in the way that stone and drafty halls made a place cold, but in the way that loneliness settled into the bones of a home, making it hollow. You felt it in every ignored whisper of your name, in the meals left at your door but never shared, in the glances that once lingered but now flickered away, as if your presence was something to be endured rather than cherished.

You had learned to sit in that silence, to let the days pass with only the ticking of the grand clock to keep you company. No one seemed to mind that the Duchess of the house was wilting. Not the servants who barely acknowledged you, not the man who had vowed to be your partner in all things.

So it was a surprise when a sharp knock interrupted the monotony of your existence.

You barely had the energy to respond. “Enter.”

The door swung open, and in stepped a young woman dressed in the crisp uniform of the household staff. But unlike the others, she did not hesitate in the doorway, did not cast you a wary glance before hurrying off to complete some other, more important task- because you were at the bottom of the list of importance to them.

No- this one marched inside with purpose, hands on her hips, bright eyes scanning the room like a general surveying a battlefield.

“Oh, absolutely not!”

You blinked, fully looking at her. “I beg your pardon?”

The maid- Shirin, you would later learn- looked positively appalled, her gaze darting between the untouched vanity, the dust gathering in the corners, the discarded meal trays with barely a dent in them.

“This is unacceptable!” she declared.

You almost laughed. You had never heard one of the staff speak so freely before, but you didn’t mind. At least she was speaking to you.

Instead, you tilted your head, studying her. “And you are?”

Shirin straightened, her expression softening when her eyes met yours. “Shirin, Your Grace. I’ve just been hired, and let me tell you, I do not approve of how they’ve been treating you.”

Your lips parted, but before you could respond, she was already moving- striding toward the heavy curtains and yanking them open, letting sunlight pour into the dim room.

“Goodness, no wonder you look so sick! They’ve been keeping you in the dark like some tragic ghost.”

You winced at the sudden brightness, but you found yourself watching, entranced, as Shirin moved with swift efficiency. She gathered the abandoned trays and muttered under her breath about the nerve of leaving food for a Duchess like she’s a stray cat, shaking her head in obvious disapproval.

You frowned. “Why does it matter to you?”

Shirin turned, her brows furrowing in genuine confusion. “Because you’re you!” she said, as if that should be obvious.

You didn’t know how to respond to that.

With a huff, Shirin clapped her hands together. “Alright! First things first, we’re getting you properly bathed, dressed, and fed. No more arguments.”

You raised a brow. “I haven’t argued.”

“Oh, you will,” she said knowingly, already heading toward the bathing chamber. “But I’m terribly stubborn, and I always win, my lady.”

For the first time in ages, you felt something unfamiliar flutter in your chest. Something warm. And you weren’t quite sure what to do with it.

Within minutes, Shirin had the bath drawn- hot water steaming as she added fragrant oils with a hum. She returned to your bedside, hands on her hips.

“Well?”

You hesitated. You didn’t even know why- and yet tou hesitated.

She softened, stepping closer. “Your Grace,” she said gently. “You deserve to be taken care of.”

Something in you cracked, and without a word, you let her help you to the bath.

She was kind but firm, helping you undress without making you feel small, washing your hair with a gentleness that made your throat tighten. When you were clean and wrapped in the softest robe, she helped you to a chair before the vanity, brushing creams onto your face with careful strokes.

“See?” she murmured. “Not so bad, my lady.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “No,” you admitted. “Not bad at all.”

Shirin, and you found yourself helpless against the warmth of it. She squealed when she noticed your own smile.

By the time you were settled in fresh clothes, Shirin had already changed the linens, aired out the room, and brought in a meal that smelled heavenly. The warmth of the plate alone almost made you tear up.

She cut the food into small bites- not in a condescending way, but in a way that said she simply wanted to make things easier for you.

You took a tentative bite, and Shirin lit up.

“Oh, thank the stars, you’re eating!” she cheered.

You gave her a look, but there was no real heat behind it.

“I always win, my lady. I told you so!” She reminded you with a wink.

And for once, you didn’t mind losing.

Meanwhile, the rest of the staff had noticed Shirin’s warpath.

She was sweet with you- warm, chatty, the very definition of a doting maid. But with them?

“Oh, no no no,” she had scolded Johnny that morning. “You expect the Duchess to eat this?” She had snatched the meal away with a huff, muttering about standards before personally overseeing a proper one.

And when she had cornered John, her expression turning so positively icy, she hadn’t even pretended to be intimidated.

“If you’re so worried, then why don’t you take care of her yourself?” he had muttered, dismissive, too focused on his work to care about a singular maid taking pity on you.

Shirin had only grinned. Fine. She will take the very best care of you!

[aalinaaaaaa]

infodump everything you want to share about this rn :>

I literally squealled in delight when I saw this! Heads up, this is going to be a long one (like almost every single question long, lol)

Before we begin, the character I'm going to talk about here (The Bloodcarver — his actual name is below the cut/see below) features in a few short pieces I wrote (and also in Obsidian Sapphires, Chapter Two and thereafter)

#269. Living Weapon | A Pawn for a Greater Cause (he's the main character in this piece)

#276. Dark and Stormy Night | A Dance With Death (makes a guest appearance; this piece is the thematic reciprocal of A Pawn for a Greater Cause)

#289. Blinding Gaze | A Thesis in Bloodlust (he's actually doing his job here, bloodcarving :D)

The Bloodcarver

— Also known as Petrius, the Second to High Councillor Claudia Emar

•/🗡\•

Simply put, he's the right-hand of a lady who is his childhood best friend that ended up becoming a High Councillor because she got revenge for her sister. He couldn't exactly, leave now could he?

He fights with swords and knives, and he can also shapeshift into a raven, which makes him very annoying to fight. He even wears talon chains from time to time, but it's almost more of a fashion/intimidation statement.

Some of you may have questions, such as the ones below here:

3. How much autonomy is he given?

A certain degree, he can pick his clothes, food, etc but in terms of daily activities, he doesn't usually have a lot of autonomy unless it's a rest day. Most of the time he has obligations to fulfill

He likes to keep his face very neat, he's always clean shaven but his hair is usually a little messy. The natural consequences of fighting and/or shapeshifting, he supposes (though Claudia has an unnatural ability of keeping her hair dead straight even after going in and out of bird form — even Eshani can't do that!)

4. Does he groom himself? What details about his appearance are chosen by other people?

5. How obedient is he? Is he more defiant or compliant?

He's very obedient, it ties in with his loyalty, he's ramrod straight to the point of it being a flaw.

6. Does he have a comfort object?

The fur cloak he was wearing the day Claudia got turned. He got it from killing a bear with his father a few months previous, and he still has the cloak to this day.

7. How does he dress to go on missions? Does he have a uniform?

He doesn't have a uniform, he simply wears what's appropriate for the occasion. So what he wears to court will differ greatly from a hunting outfit, for instance.

8. Does he have a workout routine?

Most of his exercise comes from sparring, though he does go swimming in the lake regularly.

10. Is he a favourite? Is he precious or replaceable?

Let me put it this way: Claudia would be broken beyond repair if he ever died. If someone was to murder him, she'd go to ends of the world to ruin the perpetrator's life, even if it meant breaching her Vow of Madness.

While his job might be fillable by anyone competent, Petrius himself cannot be replaced. Not in Claudia's eyes anyway.

11. Is he stealthy? Or perhaps bulky, odd or otherwise eye-catching?

He's capable of being very quiet, he can sneak up on people, change into a raven and catch people off-guard that way, he can be pretty sneaky. All the hidden corridors around the place only serve to help with that.

12. What is his name? Is it a number? Does he have a nickname? Who uses it?

So most people that know of him know him as The Bloodcarver. It's his professional title. Only a certain amount of people know him as Petrius, and very few of that bunch know his surname (in other words, Claudia, a few of the crows and the folks back in their hometown are the only ones that know his full name).

14. Does he have a favourite food? How often does he have it?

There's a particular type of stew he likes but he can't really have the exact thing because some of the ingredients (a specific type of fish) can't be found in Morilaste.

15. Did he have a life before this?

He most certainly did. His childhood was pretty alright, the usual ups and downs, it improved when he found close friends and a purpose in life.

Then the problems started rolling in during his early adulthood and before he knew it he witnessed/was an accomplice in the murder of a giant swan lady.

17. Does he have a squick in their job? Something that bugs them or pisses them off?

The pettiness of Helindian ministers. He grew up in a not-tremendously-well-off Feudranian household, so going from a grounded, uptight but earnest culture to the flashy, competitive, colourfully cutthroat chaos that is upper class Helindian culture is a big change. He's long used to it by now, but he's still irked by certain things sometimes.

18. How does he wear his hair?

It's in a bowl cut, nothing too fancy, something simple and practical to maintain.

19. Does he have a good aim?

He does, but he doesn't really use it that much. He prefers short-range combat, and is excellent at going for the jugular.

20. Does he have survival skills? If he's on his own, can he find food, take care of himself?

Absolutely, this would be no problem to him. He has the know-how to find food for himself (he hunts on the regular), and if worse comes to worse, he can change into a bird and fly somewhere else :D

21. Would he survive a battle royale situation, like the Hunger Games?

I would fancy his chances a lot, especially if he was allowed to shapeshift. If not, he'd have the skills, the know-how and the ruthlessness to pull off a good result.

Ironically, I entered him into a round of the Writeblr Hunger Games and he did the worst out of the trio I entered (he came 14th out of 20-something — Eshani won the whole thing and Claudia made it to the final day 😂)

23. Is he loyal? Do his superiors trust him to go off on his own and come back, or is he kept on a tight leash?

He is loyal to the point of it being a flaw. Maybe even worse than a flaw. Most people in his situation would probably have left. But him? Nope, he eschewed his friends and family at home to stay with his best friend after a very dark moment in their lives. (Their efforts did relieve their town of being pestered by overly antagonistic swans, so that was something).

Claudia has a great deal of trust in him. As long as he's around for the important things, she does not care what he does in his free time. (Well, okay, she cares in a "what did you get up to?" sort of way, not in a weird or negative way)

24. What makes him relaxed?

The moment Helinda's ministers leave, any time he enters a bath or body of water, the occasions when it's just himself and Claudia spending time together.

25. What makes him nervous?

Having to mind court while Claudia's off doing stuff, dealing with Helinda's ministers sometimes, being touched sexually

27. Can he blend in on a civil and normal environment? Does he know how to navigate whatever's normal in the setting? Can he get by lowkey or would he catch attention?

He'd be a little caught off guard initially, but he'd get the hang of things pretty quick. It would just be a case of wearing the right clothes and being careful of when to shift into bird form (could be construed as rude if it's during a conversation and/or crows are bad luck in Helindian superstition [Claudia, Petrius and their 1,000+ strong murder of crows are a big part of that!])

29. Can he endure torture? Is there a method that immediately breaks him? Is he a good torturer?

28. Does he have a non-fighting related skill, such as writing, doing math, drawing or speaking another language? Was it taught to him? Did he learn it himself?

[ I'm going to direct people to this lovely ask I received here ]

To a certain degree, yes, he's good with physical pain, to a limit. Iron would be a pretty quick way to beat him, though, iron is anathema to faeries. Also ash wood and arsache (silverweed; it's a type of Helindian plant that can result in multiple organ failure among other things if overdosed and it contains a compound that inhibits magic).

As for torturing, he's never had to do it, but he'd do well at physical torture.

30. How is he doing?

He's doing well. Currently, things are a bit chaotic because, well, the events of Obsidian Sapphires have started occurring and it's stressful for everyone in his circles.

—

@/ominous-faechild thank you so so much for this ask, this was absolutely brilliant <3333333

Tagging everyone on the Obsidian Sapphires taglist (and in General), because he does feature in it. (As a side character, but a frequent enough face nonetheless)

(ask/comment/reblog, etc if you'd like to be added or subtracted): @mr-orion @the-ellia-west @guessillcallitart @thereadingfoz @glassstardust22124 @original-writing @honeybewrites @ashirisu @drowsy-quill @oliolioxenfreewrites @theglitchywriterboi @seastarblue @gioiaalbanoart @rae-butter @corinneglass @thelaughingstag @oros-ash3s @jacqueswriteblrlibrary @midnight-and-his-melodiverse @outpost51

[gethoce]

ALRIGHT time for Anat's turn!! :>

1: If your partner could only eat one food for the rest of their life, what would it be?

Anat grabs a chalk board and leans back far, staring at the ceiling for a moment, eyes squinting as she's thinking. “Wine doesn't count, huh? Guess that's more of a drink unless you freeze it…”

She taps her cheek with the chalk while pondering her options, leaving behind a white trail. Then she finally writes something down and holds the board up. It says “CHEESE” in big letters. She tilts the board a little to look at it while explaining her reasoning.

“Honestly, I've only seen her eat once and from the things I saw her eat this would be the funniest in combination with wine. Also it has the same color as me. Anyway.” She then wipes the word away with her sleeve.

2: Who has the better sense of fashion?

Narrowing her eyes she stares into a distance for a moment. “Well, I, for one, think I'm very stylish! Buuuut I guess she put a lot of effort into maintaining that appearance she has. She got the polished armor, the cape and everything, it's very ferocious looking while also fancy…” She writes “LRK” on the board and holds it up for a moment, nonchalantly while murmuring to herself. “My belt of severed hands is stylish as fuck… also my cool as hell sea shell pauldron is a looker.”

3: Who would win in a battle?

“HAL…” For a moment she looks away, eyes wide open contemplating the consequences of her actions. “She seems like a formidable opponent, to say the least, but is she Anat levels of strong? I'd like to think I could wipe the floor with just about anyone. Have you seen what I did to the former DEVA of death?” She writes “ME” on the board and holds it up for a moment before erasing it again.

4: You get a new pet that you love, but your partner doesn’t. What kind of animal is it?

“I used to have a pet spinosaurus… I feel like she might not vibe with that? Most people seemed taken aback. Maybe she would get used to the spino but could she love it…” Letting out a huff she shakes her head in dismay, doodling a spinosaurus on the board which seems to be quite proportional.

5: Where would you take your partner for a vacation?

With her arms crossed she leans forward onto the table before her. “She does live in a snowy wasteland, so something warm would be a nice contrast. Perhaps Raisin Ruins to show her some history where there actually are remnants of my past left.” She rubs her chin with one hand pondering, then begins writing down Raisin Ruins on the board.

“I'd prefer my actual previous home in Dreamland, but couldn't find a single remnant of my past. There is a palace on Mount Lel like there used to be, but it's some place called Castle Dedede and not my father's palace??” She flicks a hand in disbelief, a bit of a grimace forming in her face.

“Anyway, Raisin Ruins is also better because there are less people. She seems to prefer not having too many eyes on her and I'd want to respect that. Hope she can handle the desert though.”

6: Which video game do you always beat your partner at?

“Heh…” A brief chuckle escapes her. Then she writes the word SMASH on the board. “While I have watched the Meta-Knights play their games, I've never played any myself. Though I'd imagine I'd be pretty good in that ‘Smash’ game. For some reason my brother is a playable character and his underlings always play as him?? Naturally his sword, an aspect of me, is in the game as well and I'd like to think that means I’d be fantastic at playing the game!” Confidentally she nods with her arms crossed and a big smile on her face.

7: Which Copy Ability would best describe your relationship?

“Our relationship? I quite literally am the sword ability, yet that would only represent me… I'd almost say fire for passion but that ability belongs to my ex. For me and Lady Radiant I'd like to propose a mixture… like Bluster Sword. She seems to have control over the wind at least to a degree…” She doodles a fancy sword and draws some tornado swirls around it to represent the wind. It looks quite goofy.

8: You have to make breakfast for your partner. What are you cooking?

“Ehehe… That one is… I'm not known to be great at cooking. I'd have to go for something easy…” Looking into the distance she frowns. This one is quite difficult for her to figure out. “Eggs.. wait, would that be weird because she is like half bird? But she doesn't like the bird side… let's have her have some boiled eggs, then. I think I can manage that. Also some buns and stuff. Easy but tasty.” With her tongue held out to the side she draws a bird and crosses it out, then doodles some eggs and ovals that are probably supposed to be buns.

9: What’s the best gift your partner ever gave you?

“Uuuh… We only had one date so far but she brought her own wine so that was pretty damn cool! Let's see how far we can take it from here in the future.” This time she drew a bottle, nodding at her artistic masterpiece. Then she leans forward, whispering. “You think she'd enjoy the torn out and still beating heart of a dragon as a gift? That's my favorite go to.” In the background her brother shakes his head disapprovingly.

10: What’s something you started doing because of your partner?

She taps the board with the chalk for a moment, then sketches a poorly drawn feathery wing. “Well she got me to appreciate feathery wings. Never gave them much thought before since they seem like a ton of work and just soft fluffy stuff, but she has proven that they can actually be quite deadly! Still, I'd rather stick to my dragon wings.” She stretches out her wings, flapping them a little before folding them back once again.

Muchadoo is hosting a romance-themed game show called Dream Date, and new contestants are invited! Kirby ship couples (including AU and OC characters) are invited to see how well they know their partners!

While the game is heavily romance themed, the questions are meant to work for platonic couples as well!

The rules are simple: it’s just the Newlywed game. Both players are presented with the same question regarding their partner, and each one must write the answer they think is correct. After both partners have written their answers, they reveal them, and we see just how right they are!

Here are some questions the couples might be asked:

If your partner could only eat one food for the rest of their life, what would it be?

Who has the better sense of fashion?

Who would win in a battle?

You get a new pet that you love, but your partner doesn’t. What kind of animal is it?

Where would you take your partner for a vacation?

Which video game do you always beat your partner at?

Which Copy Ability would best describe your relationship?

You have to make breakfast for your partner. What are you cooking?

What’s the best gift your partner ever gave you?

What’s something you started doing because of your partner?

There are no planned win conditions for this event, nor are there prizes; the point of this event is to simply provide a fun set of prompts for character couples/partnerships to answer in drawing or writing form! Just reblog this post adding your characters answering the questions, have fun, and have a happy Valentine’s Day!

[sabraeal]

The Strong Pack Thrives, Part 1

[Read on AO3]

Sequel to The Lone Wolf Survives

Hardly two steps into the breakfast room and the scent assaults her: pork sausage with fennel and garlic, some root vegetable-- potato perhaps-- fried crisp and spritzed with lemon, charred tomatoes with spring onions, a milky sauce of indeterminate spice but what is there is certainly a lot. There’s more besides; an entire basket full of muffins calls to her, as well as small danishes laid out on a tray and topped with generous helpings of jam and custard. But none of those pastries cling to her nose, overwhelming her with choice. Eisetsu’s table had never been sparse, but this morning--

Well, no one would ever guess that they had all spent almost an hour trying to scrub char and pitch and dirt from their skin last night, or that what remained of her clothes had been resigned to the furnace, not the laundry. Thank goodness they’d thought to change before riding out after Ryuu; Eisetsu was no alpha to begrudge her a ruined gift, especially if the ruination was in his service, but still-- she would have spent all breakfast, wondering if she should bare her neck.

“Good morning, Shirayuki,” he calls out, his usual sunny smile sedate. It’s habit to ask if there’s something the matter-- or, more pressing, if there’s anything she can do about it-- but she remembers the woman locked in the suite upstairs, still wrangling with the after effects of Touka Bergatt’s long-term attentions, and bites it back. Obi hadn’t had time to delve into the details of just what happened at the masque, but it didn’t take much to gather that it hadn’t been the joyous reunion Eisetsu had hoped.

“Ah, yes.” She bustles over to breakfast, attempting to be chipper enough for the both of them. “Good morn--”

“Shirayuki!” The chair legs screech across the parquet before Zen catches himself, half risen from his seat. “Ah, I mean. Mistress Shirayuki. It’s pleasure to see you.”

A lord does not rise for a commoners. An alpha does not rise for a beta. And a prince, well...there is a reason why Zen coughs, awkward, before shuffling his chair beneath him. Eisetsu, for his part, only tilts his head, sending a curious glance her way.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” she replies with as formal a bow as she can make with a plate in her hands. “Lady Kiki. Sir Mitsuhide. It’s an honor to dine with you this morning.”

A raised eyebrow from Rugilia’s lord warns her that she has perhaps laid it all on too thick. Obi is a knight of the Royal Circle, an aide to the prince of Clarines; as high as the rest of them ranked, both by blood and inclination, they were his close colleagues. And if she were his, er...

I think I mentioned-- even now she fells the rumble at her back, the hot breath washing over her ear --that alphas like to take care of their mates, Miss.

...Ah, whatever she might be, she would know them. Not well, but enough that she wouldn’t need to bow and scrape. Ugh, this one little lie had seemed so simple when it was just between her and Obi, but now with Zen here, and Kiki, and Mitsuhide-- it’s unwieldy. Every action must be calculated, joy rationed in every smile, and--

And she’s saved from much more of it by a shuffle in the hall. Or several shuffles, perhaps even a scuffle, each one far more awkward than her own, until somehow all the jostling ejects both offenders through the door.

“Lord Tsuruba!” Eisetsu calls out, a hair too loud for the room. “And, er...Lord Tariga...? What a pleasure for you two to join us.”

Side by side, the differences between them are stark; not simply because of Tariga’s braid and Tsuruba’s scar, but because of the way they hold their faces. Similar features mold to distinct persons now that she can see that Tsuruba wields a bland politeness like a shield, making each twitch of his nose or lift of his lips a full expression in itself; or that Tariga’s brows naturally settle at a quizzical angle, like a constant question caught is between his teeth, ready to fall with every breath.

And yet, despite their expression, their scent shifts to a similar shade of skeptical, dubious that their presence at this table could be anything but tolerated, that their duty to attend might be anything but a burden to those already seated.

Ah. Shirayuki rubs at her nose. Strange. She’s not use to so much from a simple sniff. Perhaps she’s simply overstimulated; Eisetsu’s spread is far more pungent this morning, most likely to impress the alphas in the royal party-- or at least, who he assumes are alphas. Still, it pales to the banquets at the palace; there may be a glut of scents, a veritable feast for the nose, but it lacks the complexity of what the castle kitchens put out.

Or maybe, a traitorous part of her whispers in her ear, it has something to do with last night.

It’s-- it’s impossible. It’s not as if she hadn’t-- if she had never--

Well, a beta may not fly into heat or fall into a rut, but Shirayuki had certainly put a hand between her legs before. A few times, even, when the nights ran late and her mind still paced the lab’s floors, composing notes that wouldn’t make it to the page until morning. Something to...to ease the way to sleep. To shut off.

Ah, but in that carriage, shutting off had been the furthest thing from her mind. His hands had skimmed up her thighs, and she had wanted to-- to--

Do something. She hardly knew what, but seeing Obi there across from her after, unfinished and undone--

Her hands had itched, her lips stung. We can do more later, he had rumbled, too low, and--

Clink.

“Shirayuki!” Eisetsu springs to his feet, blinking owlishly at where she stands. “Are you quite all right.”

She glances down, and, ah...the plate rests in one palm, and in another, a piece of it, broken in the shape of her grip. “Oh, goodness! I’m, ah...”

When she dressed this morning, grimacing at the marks she could only hope a high collar would cover, the choice had not felt convenient let alone fortunate. But now, with heat flaring over her chest, threatening to spill up the column of her neck, she feels...armored, if not precisely comfortable. Protected, from scrutiny, at least.

“Please, don’t worry yourself.” With a wave of his hand, a footman appears to take it from her, scurrying it away into the kitchens. “I’m sure it was just...badly thrown. Flawed before it even came to the table!”

“Right.” Considering the expense for gilded dishware she would hope not, but there’s hardly a better explanation. “I just...is Obi coming down to breakfast?”

Zen blinks at her. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“My thought exactly, Your Highness.” Eisetsu’s mouth curves impishly as he tucks in behind his meal. “You are the one with the best opportunity to inquire as to his, mm, morning plans, aren’t you?”

As if the insinuation wasn’t enough, Eisetsu glances around the table, expectant. He’s anticipates their knowing looks, that the royal party will gleefully seize the opportunity to tease Lilias’s most famous lovebirds--

But it is only met with a quizzical silence. Zen’s narrowed gaze darts between them before he ventures, “What's that supposed to mean?”

“If you’re looking for Obi,” comes a soft voice from the hall, “I think I might be able to provide some assistance.”

They’d arrived here last night, all squeezed in on one carriage bench, pressed shoulder-to-shoulder like sardines in can-- him, Miss, and their little pup. No reason for it either; Master had hopped in with Eisetsu without a whisper of warning, Miss Kiki and Sir keeping pace on either of side of them in case of trouble. So they might have taken up the whole cab, letting Obi stretch out his cramped legs and letting the air carry away Miss’s troublesome scent. It’s just--

It felt right. Charred and dirt-stained and foul-smelling as they were, the moment he’d thrown himself to the cushions and Ryuu had followed, burying his nose in the rent beneath his shoulder, Obi felt...

Home. It was home. And Miss piling in on the other side, the sweet scent of her still there, strong beneath the smoke and soil--

His cock twitches, the mattress rising to cradle it, to give it far more attention than its due. He shifts, just enough that his groan is lost in the labyrinth of the pillow’s down, but it doesn’t help, doesn’t do anything but make him wish her soft skin was beneath his neck. Reminds him that he could sink his cock as deep as his teeth into something warm, into something that sighed at Miss’s pitch--

“Obi?”

It’s an effort to lift his head, to even turn enough so that he can see who shuffles at his bedside. His senses are addled by her scent, searching for it, yearning, but-- but the one in his room isn’t hers. Isn’t one he knows, not at first, not until his eyes finally focus and he’s met with blue in a moon-pale face, dark hair no longer long enough to tumble over his forehead. No, it’s cut to look just like his. In the market, a woman asked whether they were brothers, and he--

He needs to focus. “Ryuu...” Haah, his mouth is parched. “What...what are you doing here?”

Big eyes blink at him in a face he can’t quite reconcile to the shaggy mop of a kid he caught under Miss’s desk all those years ago. The one who hadn’t climbed a tree or caught fireflies or had a growth spurt that made his legs ache. The one who used to smell like the stockroom, herby and indistinct, like he caught a whiff of it through an open door, and now--

Now there’s a musk to it, a hint of something deeper. He’s changing; no, Ryuu’s growing up, and Obi’s not sure into who. Someone better than him, that’s for sure. “Breakfast.”

The smell might be different, less herbal tea and more...forest floor, but it’s soothing. Like a cool compress to a fever, the first stirrings of his rut eases. “Where at?”

If it’s one of those informal grab-and-go businesses, he might be able to make it. Just throw his loosest tunic over this whole situation and stuff his pockets full of food. In and out and no one the wiser. “The usual room.”

Which means the informal dining room. Same as the formal one, but no dressing up required. Grabbing encouraged, but not the going. “Right.”

Intimate, is what Eisetsu liked to call his breakfasts. Table right up close to the spread so everyone can comment on what is and isn’t going on a plate. Best seats in the house to witness his ever-growing situation while he got his bacon and eggs.

Damn. He’d really been hoping for a handful of that sausage. Betas keep their table bland-- they don’t know better, really-- but it was recipe from the old count’s time. Man might have been a bastard, but he sure knew how to spice a--

“Obi.” Ryuu stares at him-- no, through him, brows angled like arrows over his nose. “Last night you ate quickly and left.”

It was that or break his hand to keep from feeding Miss from his plate. Kiki had offered her half a scone and he nearly jumped the table.

“You don’t smell right either.” Those wide eyes squint, suspicion caught up in their corners. A knowing he’d rather the kid not have. Not about this. “Are you feeling unwell?”

There’s a stress on it, unwell. Like the way Sir said indisposed when Kiki spent three days locked in her room after Sereg, or Miss said unavailable when Yuzuri made the whole wing smell like butter and citrus.

“Me, pup? I’m in top form.” He gives his chest a rap, just to prove it. “That perfume rattled me a bit, I’m not too proud to admit it, but everything’s right as rain now. Problem is--” he leans in, conspiratorial “--it’s getting crowded around here.”

His mouth fouls up into a frown. “Do you need more suppressants? I made another batch before we left. I can get them now.”

“Ahh. No, no.” There’s nothing those can do for him now, not with a rut so close even his bones feel heavy, begging him to find someone to hold his weight. “I just. Need a bit. Just a day or two to clear out my nose before I play the good omega again.”

“Uh-huh.” Ryuu hasn’t gotten as far as he has at Lilias without knowing a lie when he hears it. But he’s also got experience in keeping secrets, and Obi knows: he’ll keep this one too, so long as it’s safe. “You’ll let me know if you need something. Or Shirayuki?”

“I’ll tell you.” That’s the last thing he needs right now, having her in here. But her scent... “Hey, Little Ryuu, do you think you could do me a favor?”

“Which is why he’s still in his room.” There’s a tightness around Ryuu’s mouth as he speaks, a grimace concealed through movement. He’s keeping something from them, holding something back, and by the way he can’t quite meet her eye, Shirayuki knows it’s not about the crowd.

“He’s not coming, then?” He nods, tight and quick, before turning to the buffet, plate already in hand. “Maybe he’s finally able to relax.”

The muffin drops from between his tongs, rolling across the table before he stiffly picks it up. “Maybe. He definitely slept.”

Guilt stings her nose, sharp and strong as vinegar. She wants to press, to ask just how he might know that for a fact, but Zen’s snort interrupts her. “That one? I bet. He’s practically nocturnal.”

“I don’t think sleep is the issue here,” Kiki hums, her smirk tipping into a wry slant.

“You know how he leans against a wall with his arms crossed sometimes?” Zen leans toward Ryuu, a grin stretched across his lips. “He’s actually sleeping.”

This time when heat gathers at her collar, it’s not pleasant. No, this time her stomach roils, and the flush spreads like steam, right up to the tips of her ears. “That’s--”

That’s because his work keeps him up at night, she manages to snap her teeth around just in time, and then by morning you expect him to sit at your heels.

It takes a breath-- several, all of them under the table’s intense scrutiny-- for her to catch herself, for her to calm enough to say, “I mean that he’s able to relax now that all of you are here. With you around, he doesn’t have to worry...”

About keeping me safe. She glances up at Eisetsu, his curiosity politely perked. “He’s had a long few days, I mean.”

“Oh, I bet. He’ll emerge sooner or later.” Zen smiles at her over the rim of his teacup. “He’ll sneak out of his room, prowling and hungry for lunch.”

“Oh.” Ryuu blinks from his position at the buffet. “He told me to bring him some kind of sandwich.”

Kiki’s brows lift. “A brazen request for an absentee.”

“He put in his appearances last night,” Mitsuhide reminds them, slicing into a thick piece of ham. For one, bright moment, she believes he might be on her side, that he might defend Obi as well, but then he adds, disgruntled, “Maybe he thought that would earn him brownie points.”

“Clever.” Kiki hums, unimpressed. “Give up time now for a little time to himself later.”

Zen glances down the table, smile brimming with his usual charm. “I do apologize, Lord Eisetsu. He’s usually better behaved.”

“Oh, it’s, ah, no trouble at all.” He spares her a startled look, a question she can’t possibly answer brewing in his eyes. “Last night the man told me himself that he planned to spend half the day in his chambers. Well deserved too, if I say so myself.”

It’s with a theatrical sigh that Zen settles back in his chair, the barest hint of a smirk lingering at the corners of his mouth. “Well, what do we think? Should we forgive him? He did inform the master of the house.”

Kiki sips, too delicate, at her tea. “He certainly laid the groundwork.”

“Agreed. However--”

“I don’t think Obi needs your forgiveness.”

It’s not until every eye at the table swivels her way, aristocratic eyebrows all raised to their loftiest arches, that Shirayuki realizes that she’s spoken. That it was her foot that has come down on the neck of this conversation. But now that she has, it’s too late to stop, to keep the words from spilling out like a tea kettle boiled too hot.

“He has spent the last week getting to the bottom of a conspiracy that none of you knew anything about until after we--” Shirayuki hauls herself short of, we told you. Eisetsu has proven himself a trustworthy ally, maybe even friend; she would hate to ruin it by informing him that the prince of Clarines had been a guest in his house without his knowledge. “Last night he not only delivered the culprits to you, but a key witness, and on top of that, saved...”

It’s impossible to put into words what Ryuu is to her. To them. How frantically her heart had raced when they found that bookmark in the forest, the terrible tearing in her gut as she traced the bloody patterns of their secret knock.

“Shira--” There’s the smallest scrape of a chair as Zen makes to rise, his hand lifting off the table to reach out to her, but--

But one curious glance from Eisetsu keeps him in his seat. Because, of course, to him Zen is merely her lover’s lord, an acquaintance that only reflects the favor he must shower on Obi.

“Ah...” There’s an apology in Zen’s eyes, but it’s only for her. “Of course, Miss Shirayuki. We were only teasing. Force of habit. For an omega, Obi always gives as good as he gets.”

Right. Because that’s what they know him as: an omega, an easy and eager target. Not the alpha who bows his head to earn his place. Not the man who--

“If you would excuse me.” Her chair screeches back as she stands, the room suddenly too small, too hot. She glances at Eisetsu. “My lord?”

He blinks back at her. “O-of course, Shirayuki. Was the food not to your liking? You’ve barely eaten--?”

“No.” She can’t bear to look at any of them as she says, “I’ve lost my appetite.”

“Shira--” Zen catches himself. “Miss Shirayuki, do you need someone to--?”

“No, I’m fine. Just...” She shakes her head. “I need space.”

Shirayuki’s hardly more than a few steps from the hall before she collapses against the wall, tearing at the neck of her dress. She’s sweating, cold and hot at the same time.

“What,” she gasps, pressing her head into her hands, “is wrong with me?”

[lxnarphase]

━ ❝ OH, IT'S MINIKUNA ! ❞

✮₊‧⁺...content: heian era!sukuna x wife!reader, fluff, mentions of childbirth, sukuna is an overly proud father, sukuna is whipped for his wife

✮₊‧⁺...lunar's note: based of this little blurbie and this one too !! needed some fluff with kuna bc he would love having a baby girl idc what anyone says !!! also i did my best describing the birthing process in a time accurate period but it's definitely a bit inaccurate because...i have never had a baby LOL

no one has ever seen sukuna ryomen, king of curses, wince before.

not until today, at the wrath of his pregnant wife who somehow got a hold of his fingers instead of his hand.

one of the nurses did warn him to not give you his finger and to ensure you always hold his hand. but by the gods, he swears you almost ripped his finger off.

it's cute to him, however, when you attempt to curse him out.

'gods, sukuna, i despise your entire being!'

'i know, my wife.'

'i should've never let you get me pregnant, you animal!'

'you begged for it, my wife.'

'i am never letting you bed me again, use your hand for the rest of your existence!'

'you can't keep your hands off me, my wife, no need to lie.'

but the sigh of relief, the way you instantly look down and coo once the sound of wailing filled the air...it makes him melt just a little bit.

he can't deny, seeing you in pain made him heated. it took everything in him not to kill every midwife, nurse, and lady-in-waiting in your birth room for not being able to make this process completely painless.

except chiyo. he would have to reward your personal physician for preparing you so well for this...

what did the old hag like again? wines, meats, gifts for her grandchildren back at home?

hm, yes, that would be great for her. of course, he'll say it was from you. the king of curses shows gratitude for no one.

he's pulled out of his thoughts at the hushed whispers once the other women exam the baby before following your unspoken request to hold your child.

"d-do you think lord sukuna will harm our lady for this...?"

"i hope not, surely he can make an exception, t-they both are still young and can always try for more!"

"but he's the king of curses, t-there no way he won't have a reaction!"

before he can demand what they find so important to discuss in front of you, chiyo hushes the girls with a wave of her hand, ushering the girls to help wipe off your sweat, tears, and clean off the baby—gentle like it's the finest glass, she instructs—before turning to sukuna with a knowing smile.

"well, your greatness...congratulations on having a healthy and gorgeous little girl," she hums, wiping her hands with a clean cloth before going to rinse her hands to help stitch any rips and clean you up.

the room falls silent aside from your soft little coos and the wails of your daughter as you brush the wet, fluffy hair on her little head.

all the women in the room continue to work, but it's clear they are silently waiting for his outburst.

everyone knows that a proper heir to any throne is a boy...but now, sukuna's first born child is a girl.

but rather angry, yelling, and threats to your and your child's life, the room is filled with Suku's booming laughter, which practically shakes the entire room.

instead of an enraged expression, pure delight, and excitement are painted on his face as he sits next to you on the soft cushiony bedding on the floor, his hand caressing the rounded cheek of your newborn.

"so, you've given me a girl," he hums in delight, all four of his eyes narrowing. "this will be the one who takes over my throne once i decide to step down?"

this thing, this tiny, itty bitty baby...came from you both? it's almost laughable how small this baby is compared to his hand, that something so little could be related to him.

she's...nothing short of perfect. "absolutely divine...she will not just be beautiful like her mother, but as powerful as both of us."

he's so proud of you and your child. he would shower your daughter with riches, love, and anything she could ever want and ask for.

but, he couldn't lie.

she's a damned fat baby, big head and all.

"sukuna, watch your mouth!"

he can't help but laugh, not realizing his thoughts came out of his mouth. "what, it's a good thing! means she's healthy," he boasts with a grin, leaning down closer to see her better.

"she looks strong already. as soon as she is able, i will personally teach her how to be a truly malevolent little princess, how to properly slit the necks of her enemies, how to—!”

oh, he is so excited, it's adorable.

“sukuna, shush, i just gave birth to a child with a massive head like yours, give me a moment," you say with a light laugh, your smile still reaching your clearly tired eyes.

“…apologies, my wife.”

chiyo can't help but laugh with you she finishes applying the healing ointment on your lower body, using a bit of her cursed energy to speed up the healing process to help you skip any serious pain.

after all, nothing but the best physician for you in sukuna's palace.

"always such an excitable boy, my lord, ever since you were a young man," she hums, helping one of the midwives properly wrap your baby in the soft, clean cloth.

"be gentle with her," you instruct him, gently moving your arms toward him so he could take the little bundle. he's...nervous, but he hides it well.

you place your daughter in his arms and he looks down at her, suddenly conscious of how loud he's breathing. she's got his hair, still a bit wet but soft and fluffy. it's pink, just like his.

a pleased rumble vibrates his chest, and he doesn't even realize he's doing it.

but then...her eyes open.

both sets.

he almost didn't notice it at first, they're just so small, but they're there. the same color as yours, pretty and big, filled with so much life.

his eyes burn, vision getting blurry. no words come to his head, he can't think of anything to say. he's so caught up in his thought he doesn't even notice chiyo ushering the other girls in the room out and shutting the door before quietly tending to you with water or food.

she knows that look, you do as well. she's been around longer than uraume to know her master, knowing the king of curses since his young years as the unwanted child of the village, abandoned by his mother for his 'horrid' appearance.

she was lucky to have found him before the villagers got to him, torches, axes, pitchforks and daggers in hand to take care of the child who they believed to have brought misfortune to their home.

getting him to safety was one of the best decisions she'd ever made, king of curses or not. no child deserved to be abandoned like that. and now, he's seeing himself in that tiny little being in his arms right now...chiyo can only imagine what he's feeling.

so, out of respect, she keeps her gaze averted, pretending she does not see the misty gaze he gives your daughter. this is a moment for you and him, and she does her best to make all her movements as quiet as possible.

all sukuna can think about in this moment is how he used to be just as tiny as this. he was just as vulnerable in his mothers arms. he couldn't talk, couldn't speak, couldn't fend for himself.

yet, his parents looked down at him just like this and decided he was an abomination and didn't give him a chance.

but now?

sukuna knows he would never, ever let anything happen to this little bundle in his arms. he would rather destroy the entire planet before letting anything happen to his baby girl. no one would make his little one suffer and live to see another day.

he flinches just a little, feeling your soft hand rubbing his bicep. "it's okay, my love," you softly coo at him, reaching up to wipe a tear from his eye before it had a chance to drip down his cheek. "she's going to grow up feeling loved and cherished because she's got a great father."

"hmm..."

a smile crosses his features as he looks back down, looking at the squirming baby so makes a little noise before calming down when he strokes her little, chubby cheek again to keep her from crying again.

"and she's got a great mother. she'll be the most wonderful princess in all of history," he says with a toothy grin, chest rumbling with a laugh.

"aww, my love, that's so sweet..."

"seriously, though, how in hells did you squeeze this thing out of ya? thing's got the head of a watermelon."

"sukuna, give me back my baby, and chiyo? get this man some food to stuff in his mouth before he says something to warrent the rage of a new mother."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[pathologicalreid]

a love song for lady earth | s.r.

in which reader has her first experience with munch!spencer

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: oral (fem receiving), munch!spencer, a little bit of overstim, d/s dynamics if you spin in circles and then squint, pwp, cumming untouched, fingering, dirty talk, a little praise word count: 2.16k a/n: this one goes out to everyone who's ever gotten shitty head from shitty guys. also to people who like their men a little pathetic.

“What are you doing?” Your voice comes out higher than you anticipated. The slight panic in your tone sets your boyfriend on high alert, his eyebrows rising in curiosity as he hovers over you.

Spencer pulls himself up until you meet his eyes, concern and lust fusing together to create nothing short of confusion. He studies your expression, investigating your interruption with the kind of delicacy that he always has when approaching intimacy, “Baby,” he starts, “Have you ever received oral sex before?”

Your lips part in surprise, wondering why that’s the conclusion he comes to, “I have,” you respond hesitantly. “I just—” you falter, “You don’t have to.”

His confusion deepens, “I don’t have to what?”

“You don’t have to give me head,” you answer timidly, “Because it’s not— you just don’t have to.”

Languidly, Spencer drags his fingertips up and down your inner thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “It’s not what? Now you have to tell me.”

You groan in frustration, looking up at the ceiling fan while you search for words that won’t set your cheeks ablaze, “I don’t like it, and I know guys don’t like it. So, you just… we can skip that part.”

“Just out of curiosity, what about it don’t you like?” Spencer asks, sitting up fully between your legs, one hand resting on your knee, keeping your legs parted.

Looking down at him, you chew on the inside of your lip, knowing you have his undivided attention when you speak up, “I just don’t get any pleasure out of a guy trying to French with my vagina while I fake moan.”

“Ah,” Spencer breathes, “So, you’ve never received good oral sex before,” he amends his previous question.

Propping yourself up on your hands, you raise your eyebrows doubtfully, “I’m not entirely convinced there is such a thing, and will you please stop calling it oral sex? It sounds so clinical.”

He crawls over to you, putting his face right in front of yours, “Do you trust me?”

You frown, “Of course I do, what does that have to do with any of this?”

“Would you be willing to let me go down on you?” The earnestness in his tone catches you by surprise. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he wants to eat you out.

Humming affectionately, you tilt your head at him, “Do you really want to? I always thought guys hated doing it.”

Spencer raises his eyebrows, “Then I guess that demographic doesn’t apply to me.”

“Oh,” you breathe, “You can… We can try,” you offer. Nerves twist in your lower belly as his eyes widen ever so slightly, your eyes fall shut as he leans his head forward, pressing his lips to yours while his hand starts to pull at the waistband of your panties.

Your boyfriend’s lips are almost unfairly soft against your own as his hands continue to undress you, pushing your t-shirt up around your waist and pulling down your underwear to the middle of your thighs. Pressing his forehead against yours, Spencer pulls away ever so slightly, “You can always tell me if you want me to stop, alright?”

Nodding, you can’t help but be curious about his plan. You find yourself questioning every partner you’ve had in the past, or maybe Spencer just has a special talent with his mouth—he certainly was good at running it. “Yes,” you say, kissing him again before he moves his head down.

“Thank you,” he mutters, bringing his head back down to where it was before you’d stopped him. Spencer lazily drags your panties down your legs, flinging them across the room to be found later before dropping his head between your knees, littering small, slow kisses along the insides of your thighs. “Pretty girl,” he hums, inspecting your glistening sex with peaked interest.

Your cunt clenches around nothing at his words, earning a chuckle from Spencer as he set on top of your mound, pulling the skin taut before blowing cool air on you. You jump in response, looking down at where he’s smirking from between your legs. Admittedly, you’d never felt so dizzy at the prospect of having a man go down on you, he just looks so pretty.

He hums absentmindedly, “Just making sure you’re paying attention,” he teases.

There could be an air raid siren going off and you’d still be too focused on him to take cover. His movements are calculated as he exposes your clit to the air, leaning his head down and pressing his tongue flat against your folds, licking a stripe before readjusting himself on the bed.

A constellation of feather-light kisses is left everywhere, your inner thighs, up toward your hip bone—everywhere except where you really need him. Your clit aches with need as he continues to tease you, the pad of his thumb skimming ever so slightly over the sensitive bud, relieving only a fraction of the pressure that’s building up. “Spence,” you breathe.

“Are you enjoying this?” He asks, lifting his head up and looking at you curiously.

You nod once, “Are you?” You challenge.

His head drops again, and your breath hitches when he answers, “Immensely.”

Spencer continues but doesn’t move on, studying your anatomy so intently that it only serves to turn you on even more. His hand ghosts over your folds, running a finger over your slit and chuckling when your hips buck up in response to the stimulation.

He could’ve gotten you to beg, had that been his goal, you would’ve babbled please so incessantly that the word no longer held any meaning, but that wasn’t what Spencer wanted. He wanted you to enjoy receiving pleasure in a way that no man had ever wanted before.

“You’re just so fucking perfect,” he murmurs, watching you intently.

Before you had a chance to reply, his mouth was on you again, his tongue deftly slipping between your folds and poking at your entrance. Other than working you up, you didn’t feel any different than you had previously. You give a gentle hum of encouragement—at least he tried, and at least you’d be wet enough for sex.

Spencer curls his tongue, dragging your slick up to your clit, and that’s where he finally got you. His tongue pressed firmly against the bundle of nerves as you squirm beneath him, your body moving faster than your brain as your hips move away from his mouth, “Shh,” Spencer coos, “It’s okay, baby. I know it’s a lot. I’ve got you.”

Taking a deep shuddering breath, you nod. You open your mouth to form a reply, but the only thing that comes out is a breathy sigh.

Carefully, Spencer moves your legs, placing your thighs on top of his shoulders, giving you one more glance before diving back in, kitten-licking your clit while you try to catch your breath.

“Spence,” you cry, feeling an orgasm that you previously hadn’t thought was possible building in your lower belly. A swarm of nerves and aches of pleasure thrumming through your body like electricity.

He readjusts, lifting his head more so that his lips can wrap around the sensitive nub, his mouth gently suckling on it.

At a loss for what to do with your hand, they find their way down to his head, weaving your fingers through his hair as his ministrations drive you closer and closer to an orgasm. Tugging at the soft curls earns a groan from him, the vibrations on your clit causing you to cry out, “Oh my god.”

He drops one of your legs, moving his hand up to grab one of yours before you cum, squeezing his hand as he gently nips at your clit, further encouraging your orgasm.

“I’m— ah, please,” you babble nervously, inhaling sharply as your orgasm washes over you, cunt clenching around nothing as Spencer’s mouth continues working at you, licking softly as your back arches off of the bed, sweat causing the sheets to stick to your skin.

Your thighs are trembling by the time Spencer comes back up, his mouth shining with your arousal as he breathes as heavily as you. His hand cups your sensitive sex when he leans forward, leaning in to kiss your lips.

The taste of yourself on his lips doesn’t even cross your mind as you cup the back of his head and pull his mouth to yours. The tang of your own cunt on your tongue draws a moan from the back of your throat, and you jump when one of Spencer’s fingers gently teases your interest, the sensitivity from your previous orgasm making your head spin.

“Can I go back?” Spencer asks, looking down at his hand briefly before returning to your eyes for permission.

Your mouth gapes, “You want more?”

He groans in response, “Angel, I’d spend all day between your thighs if you’d let me.”

Your stomach flips, mourning the fact that you had plans in the afternoon, “I might just take you up on that someday.”

Lifting your body from the pillows, Spencer tugs your t-shirt the rest of the way off your body, leaving you fully nude in front of him, “Fuck,” he groans, gently guiding your back to the mattress as he attaches his lips to your neck, leaving your fingers clawing at his back.

His head moves lower, nipping and sucking at your collarbones, leaving light marks as he makes his way down to your chest. His lips scatter kisses all along your breasts as he moves down, down, down. Right until he’s right where you want him, and right where he wants to be. “Oh,” you whimper, taking in a shaky breath while he tentatively presses his index finger into your wet hole.

“Poor baby,” Spencer coos at your sensitivity, “You’re doing so well, letting me fuck you with my mouth. All you needed was someone to suck your clit.”

You sigh dazedly in response, every thought in your mind evacuating as his mouth drops to your pussy again, languidly lapping at your cunt while his finger eases into you, “You’re so good at this.”

He hums against you in response, the vibrations causing your body to shudder and your hands to return to their home in his hair. The feeling of his mouth gently sucking on that little bundle of nerves and his finger starting to thrust makes your walls clench.

A strangled moan escapes your mouth when he adds a second finger, his second and third fingers driving into you with a steady rhythm as his tongue flicks your clit in calculated movements. The recognition of your impending orgasm hits you, “’m close,” you breathe, gasping as his movements don’t relent, tears prick at your eyes as you chase that high.

Spencer pushes your legs further apart with his spare hand, keeping your thighs from closing around his head as he moans against your cunt. You pull on his hair, eliciting another groan from him that sends you hurtling into your second orgasm, crying out his name like a prayer as he tapers off his ministrations.

His hand slows first, gently working you through your orgasm as his tongue laps at your clit, gentle movements soothing the hypersensitive spot as you catch your breath, tears trickling down your cheeks as you smooth out the hair on his head. He pulls away from you, releasing your trembling thighs and letting them fall around him as he tiredly rests his head on your abdomen. “Spence,” you whisper, combing your fingers through his hair, causing him to rest his chin on you, meeting your eyes as he wipes your slick from his mouth.

He hums a response, “My love,” he murmurs, eyes closing as he enjoys the feeling of you playing with his hair.

You chew on the inside of your lip nervously, “Do… do you need me?” Your question was tentative, unsure if he wants you to reciprocate.

“Uh,” he says, equally as unsure, “That’s not necessary.”

You raise your eyebrows, “It’s not like I feel inclined to, but I’d like to… to return the favor.”

Spencer shakes his head, “No, I mean I’m taken care of. I already…” his voice trails off, leaving you to fill in the blanks.

“Oh,” you breathe, “Oh.” Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, hiding your smile, “Well I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” Desperately. You were trying desperately not to laugh at the prospect of your boyfriend cumming in his briefs.

He rolls his eyes in response, clearly unbothered. He seems almost proud, and you suppose it’s not often that a man finishes from giving head. “So,” he starts, moving his hand and using his fingertips to draw stars across your bare skin, “Did you enjoy it?”

You huff in response, the answer is obvious, but he just wants the victory of knowing he’s changed your mind. Who are you to refuse him of that? “Immensely,” you answer.

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

The Daycare

Danny moves to Gotham after Lady Gotham themselves asks for his help.

Gotham's natural ecto has been deteriorating, and considering ecto was what held everything in existence together safely this was a major problem for Lady Gotham.

If Gotham got too bad it would spread to the rest of the world, and could cause it to cease to exist entirely.

So Danny came, as the Ghost King he had the power to filter in great amounts of the corrupt ecto just by being in the city.

But part of his obsession was protection & helping, Gotham already had a lot of help (Batfam). So he decided to focus on helping not with the problem at the top (villains), but with the problems at the bottom.

The problems at the bottom that would be the root cause in breeding more problems.

After all, many didn't start evil, but need and desperation pushed them towards that path.

So Danny moved to the worst part of Gotham, The Bowery.

What did he do there?

Why open a Daycare of course!

Many parents could not get a good or stable job simply because they needed to look after their kids and could not afford to pay the daycare fee.

Danny wasn't worried about money after all the coffers that he inherited as king would take forever to even make a dent in it, and that's only if he was living a very lavish lifestyle everyday for several human generations.

With this in mind his Daycare fee was pretty much nothing.

He would take care of the children of a very wide age group, while the adults could focus on getting a decent job or even returning to school for a higher education for better opportunities.

How does he care for so many children?

He duplicates himself of course!

At least in the very beginning, after a while he begins expanding his Daycare offering classes and tutoring to the children as well as free food at all times.

Who's helping him ?

His ex-rouges and other ghosts who volunteered.

Lunch Lady absolutely adores having so many people and kids to make food for, and Box Lunch can socialize and play with the other kids while she works.

Ember even volunteers to be the music teacher!

Danny has the help of many ghosts who once they heard his plans were very excited to help, many having the obsession with teaching children or in general. Other ghosts helped with building, expanding, and just generally helping maintain the building in great shape. Even building a very diverse and fun playground.

Of course all this catches the attention of Red Hood. Danny just appears one day on his territory with many others and practically having a building appear out of nowhere with how fast it was built, asking literal pennies to take care of the children, and free food for anyone who asks.

All that gains a lot of attention and is rather suspicious.

But the crime rate has been going down since he opened, which is a good thing.

But many people don't want good things and decide messing with Danny and his Daycare.

Unfortunately for them cuz Danny is absolutely down for violence if he's protecting what's his.

~

Villain: "What a lovely place you have here would be a shame if something were to happen"

Danny who has the audacity to fight Gods and win: "Someone call an ambulance! But not for me!

Also Danny: "These hands are rated E for everyone"

~

Other people:"Should we call someone for help?"

The ghosts:" Nah, let him have his fun he needs his enrichment"

~

Red Hood: "He's very suspicious"

Danny is absolutely covered in paint and singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star with the young kids: "Ah yes I'm totally doing normal Gothamite behavior"

~

Lady Gotham is having some self care spa time she's having a grand time: "Should I warn the young king of the other halfa (Jason)? Hmm best not, it'll be more entertaining if it happens naturally"

~

Just an Idea

[loving-barnes]

LOGAN HOWLETT - ANNUAL GALA

A/N: A new smutty one-shot. I tried. I don't think it's good. But let me know what you think.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Avenger female reader

Warning: smut

My stories are written for mature audiences - 18+!

Words: 4200+

Important note: Hugh Jackman!Wolverine (which means he's tall as fuck!)

FULL MASTERLIST | LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST

LOGAN HOWLETT - ANNUAL GALA

Tony Stark had invited Charles Xavier and his X-men to an annual gala he held in New York. There were many reasons for that. The Avengers and X-men worked together during difficult missions and unexpected alien threats. Also, he wanted to prove to regular citizens and high-profile politicians that mutants were not the enemy. This was the perfect opportunity for both groups to strengthen their bonds and work relationships. 

That’s how Logan had found himself, in a fancy all-black tux, standing at the bar with a drink in his hand. His glare could kill anyone who rubbed him the wrong way. He wasn’t fond of these gatherings, and yet here he was. His eyes were searching for any threat, ready to fight anyone who would seem too suspicious to him.

“You didn’t have to come here, you know,” Hank chuckled when he approached Logan at the bar. “Nobody forced you to come here.”

Logan rolled his eyes and sipped on his whisky. “I know how important these things are,” he growled. “Charles wanted me to be here, so I’m here.” 

“Uh-huh,” Hank rolled his eyes. He ordered a drink. When the bartender had given him the drink with shaking hands, he had to chuckle. Some people were spooked by his blue fur and beasty look. “Isn’t it because you are waiting for a certain someone?” 

Logan sighed, defeated. Hank knew damn well that his friend had built some connection with a certain female Avenger. There was no denying he was waiting for her. “You really wanna go there, furball?” He tried to avoid the question. 

“Oh, come on, Logan. Everyone can see how you are smitten with that woman,” he chuckled. “It’s kinda nice.”

“I am not smitten,” he denied. Fuck, but even Charles constantly made comments and teased him about it. “By the way, shut your mouth, McCoy. I don’t want to hear shit from you. You’ve been eyeing that reporter from News 1.” 

That made Hank roar with laughter. He sipped his drink and turned to the crowd, watching people mingle around, talk and drink. “I’m not denying that. She’s pretty, we like to talk about science. You, on the other hand, keep denying everything. But we are not blind.”

Logan wanted to throw the drink at Hank. He would, if they’d be back in the mansion. He opened his mouth to snap back at him. But the energy shifted to the grand stairs. Logan’s eyes travelled there, wanting to know what the fuss was about.

Yelena Belova and Y/N Y/L/N walked down the stairs with linked arms. Both looked beautiful in their evening gowns and perfect hair. Yelena had a green satin dress. Y/N chose a sparkling black dress that hugged her figure perfectly, with a slit on her left thigh. 

Oh, if he could, Logan would drool like a dog. It was one thing when she wore that damn tight suit during missions, but this made him hard instantly. Fuck. Maybe this was the day he would have a heart attack. And she’d be the cause of it.

His blood started to boil when many men gave her attention. Once the women left the stairs, they were surrounded by testosterone. Yelena was a pretty lady, too. He had to admit that. Y/N was something different. She felt like a dream, a secret naughty fantasy that he wanted to come to life. 

“Close your mouth or you’ll swallow a fly,” Hank said. 

Logan drank the rest of the whisky in one go, eyes never leaving Y/N’s figure on the main floor. Hell, even her teammates danced around her. Where did this jealousy come from? 

He thought about the day they met. It was an accidental mission, where the Avengers were also present. While Charles and Captain Amerika talked after the finished mission, Logan’s eyes were focused on the woman who caught his attention. 

Their first interaction was amusing. Y/N tried to save his ass when a group of soldiers surrounded him. Logan was on the ground, guns pointed at every piece of his body when she came out of nowhere, shooting down the soldiers, snapping their necks with bare hands. Her kicks were strong, her punches were deadly. 

Once the threat was eliminated, she turned and looked down at Logan. “Are you done napping?” she asked him with a grin. 

He huffed. “I had it under control,” he huffed. He got up on his legs, the adamantium claws had already retracted back to his skin. Y/N watched it happen like a hawk but didn’t comment on it. 

“Of course. You almost got killed by ten men. Yeah, you had it under control.” 

“I can’t die, princess,” he squinted at her. “It wouldn’t be the first time a firing squad would try to kill me. In the end, it would always just tickle.”

Y/N tilted her head. A smile played on her lips. “Well, if you are done bragging, let’s move. There is still more to come and I would like to be in bed with a book in my hand by ten.” 

That was just their first interaction. And with that, something bloomed between them. Friendship? Or was it something more? Every mission became exciting. He couldn’t keep the dumb smile on his face once he saw her in the field.

Logan ordered another whisky. A grin spread on his lips when he thought back to their first meeting. He learnt her name later. First, it was just her last name. Rogers barked orders when he said it. Her first name came at a different time when they all shared the same coms for better communication. 

“She’s coming here,” Hank warned him, which brought Logan back to reality. 

With every step, he could notice more details about her. The material of the dress, how deep her cleavage was, how her breasts popped out, the red lips, the earrings, the fact that she was like a fucking angel. All she needed was wings. And, she was coming to him alone. Fucking finally. 

“Wolverine,” she purred his name. “I can’t believe you are here. Who put a gun to your head and forced you to attend this magical evening?” There was a teasing smile on her lips. 

Don’t look at her tits, he thought. Don’t look at the tits that want to spill out of that dress. Fuck!

“I heard there was an open bar,” he said. “So I decided to come and drink Stark’s liquor.” 

She licked her lips, suppressing her chuckle. “No other reason?” I raised a brow. “See your friends, swoon ladies or play pool with the boys?”

See me?

He kicked in the rest of the drink and put the glass on the bar. His eyes noticed the crowd gathering in the middle of the hall. A slow music started to play, inviting everyone to dance. Logan’s hand reached forward. It was now or never. “Or I came here to dance with ya, princess.” 

One second and her hand slipped into his. “Oh, so you dance, you say? Lead the way.” 

Logan proudly walked her into the crowd of dancing people. One hand rested on her lower back, other held her right hand. He knew what he was doing. After all, this was the first dance of his life. Y/N was impressed by that. They started to dance to the string music. 

He sniffed her sweet perfume, the shampoo she used. That woman would be the death of him, Logan was sure of it. They kept dancing, not talking. His eyes were on her, locked in a gaze. He had been close to her before but not like this. She was like a magnet, pulling him closer to her. Her lips inviting, her touch soft. 

The more he looked at her, the more he wanted to spill out what was going through his mind. “You look beautiful tonight,” he admitted. “Fuck, you look beautiful every time I see ya.”

She chuckled. “Even in my suit during a fight?” she raised a brow. 

“Hell yes,” he nodded eagerly. “Princess, when you walk to the field in that suit, fighting fearlessly, I have trouble focusing. Once you did a trick with your thighs, choking an enemy with them, I almost lost it there.” 

Y/N’s hand left his. She brushed it up his arm and rested it on his shoulder. “Oh, so that’s the effect I have on you, eh?” she teased the Canadian. “Care to say more?”

Logan’s hand joined the other on her lower back. He pressed her closer to his body. The height difference was evident between them. Even with her high heels, she was shorter than him. “Fishing for compliments?” 

“From you? Yes,” she smiled. 

He moved closer to her, leaning. In his mind, he was ready to press his lips against her. He needed to kiss her like he needed to breathe. This was his chance to taste her.

A third hand landed on Y/N’s shoulder. “Y/N, Logan,” they heard someone say their names. The moment was ruined. He wasn’t able to kiss her like he wanted. On the other hand, he wanted to slash anyone who interrupted them.

With a growl, he pushed away, eyes finding Captain Rogers, accompanied by Hank. “What?” he asked them grumpily. He didn’t care it was rude. They ruined something special. 

“We need you in the conference room,” said Steve. “We have a situation.” 

Y/N sighed, stepping away from Logan’s hold. “What’s going on?” she switched to a work mode. She gave Hank a polite smile to acknowledge his presence. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. alerted us about Trash industries,” said Steve. “Come, we’ll show you.” 

“Charles?” Logan’s eyes shifted to Hank. 

“Already with Stark,” he said. 

All four of them walked together from the grand hall. Yelena and Sam joined them on the stairs. The blonde woman was yapping about being taken away from a cute woman and a fine drink. 

“I just fucking got here. Already some shit is happening,” she kept cursing under her nose.

Logan kept close to Y/N. He missed her body being so close to his. He hoped they'd be able to continue. The conversation was intriguing. He remained by her side while walking through the hallway and to the upper levels of the compound. 

Her fingers brushed against his hand. It wasn’t an accident. No. Her fingers purposefully stroked the top of his hand. Instantly, his fingers moved. His pinkie hooked around hers for a second. It was a mutual sign. 

The group entered the conference room, meeting the rest of the Avengers and Charles. One by one they took a seat except Logan. He stayed on his feet, a step away from Y/N’s seat. A hologram appeared in the middle of the table. 

“We got a new location on Trask Industries, but this time, these fuckers had decided to work with some Hydra scums,” Tony started to talk, showing footage they managed to get from satellites. “Or so it appears. we are not quite sure.” 

“The public wouldn’t like that,” Charles commented. “They try to present themselves as a serious robotic corporation. Why would they jeopardise their public status if they start working with a public enemy?”

“That is trying to hunt down mutants and annihilate them,” Y/N commented. “Don’t want to imagine what’s going on behind closed doors. It can’t be nice.”

“Is it really Hydra?” Natasha asked. 

“It appears,” Steve chimed in. “Or something adjacent.” 

“So what? We’re just gonna sit here and wait for more details?” Logan scoffed. “The longer we wait, the more work they get done. I say to strike and kill them all.” 

Y/N licked her lower lip and grinned under her nose.

“We need a strategy, Logan,” said Charles.

“Not everyone can get sliced and heal with a snap of fingers,” Tony added sarcastically. “Chill, wolvie. Besides, we’ve sent Vision to have a look at the place. He’s a droid, a powerful one made out of vibranium.” 

Y/N turned her head to Tony. “That doesn’t mean he’s indestructible in this world,” she frowned. “New weapons are being developed every day to destroy mutants, to stop the Avengers. I hope Wanda went with him. They are stronger together.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Of course, she’s with him. Do you think I’d be able to stop her? I’m not crazy.” 

“Trask Industries are still working on the damn sentinel program,” Hank stepped into the conversation. “With Hydra’s help, who knows what they’ll be able to create together. The thought alone is scary.” 

Tony ended the hologram. Steve took the word. “I know we are supposed to be here at the gala, but I suggest a good night's sleep and be ready. If you’d like, we have spare rooms in here for you. You can stay here for the night if we need to leave.” 

When Steve said that, Y/N gently turned her head to the side, wondering what Logan would say to that. 

“I’ll gladly accept the offer,” Hank smiled. “At least I’d get to talk to Bruce for a little while and have a look at his labs. I’ll also alert the others at school.” 

“Howlett?” Tony raised a brow. 

Logan’s eyes moved from Y/N’s exposed shoulders to Hank and then to Tony. “Sure, why not? At least I don’t have to drive from place to place.” 

“I guess we are staying,” Charles smiled. “Thank you for your accommodation.” 

The meeting ended. Natasha and Yelena went back to the gala. Y/N talked to Hank for a few more minutes while he was waiting for Bruce. Steve and Tony took Charles back to the grand hall. Logan waited outside the conference room. Because no one was present, he took a cigar out of his jacket and lit it up. Three puffs later Y/N stepped out of the conference room with Hank. 

“Already smoking?” Hank sighed. 

“So what? Got a problem with that, bub?” 

“Always the charmer,” Hank shook his head. “Nice evening, Y/N. I’ll see you later,” he said once he saw Banner approaching the group. 

The moment Logan and Y/N were alone, they faced one another. “Are you heading back to the gala?” Logan asked. 

She hummed, thinking about it. “I’m not feeling like going back there. Honestly, those fancy parties are not my cup of tea. Wanna grab a drink in our lounge room? Stark has the fanciest shit there. You’re gonna love it.” 

Logan smiled at her. “Lead the way, princess.”

. . .

The lights were dimmed in the lounge room. Logan was nursing an expensive drink Y/N poured him. He made faces, eyed the liquid, humming and nodding. “This is some good shit,” said after a while. “Wealthy people can afford stuff like this. Also, Charles prohibited any alcohol at school.” 

Y/N chuckled, sitting in an armchair with her drink. “It makes sense. It’s a school. Of course, he doesn’t want any alcohol there. Does he let you smoke?” 

He huffed. “That he ain’t gonna do shit about it. No matter how much he threatens to turn me into a six-year-old girl.” 

“Aw, that’s adorable. I’d like to see that,” she put a wide smile on her face as she sipped her drink. “Maybe I’d brush your hair, put pink ribbons in it.”

Logan kicked the drink in and stood up from the couch. His eyes noticed a few photos around the place - from parties and group shots to professional photos of the team. They were like a family. What mostly caught his attention was Y/N. She was an Avenger, part of a superhero team. He huffed. Fuck, she was a damn Avenger. 

“What?” she questioned. A second later, she was by his side, eyes on the same photo of the team. “That was after Ultron almost annihilated the whole world. We celebrated our survival. Stark puked into his helmet,” she laughed. 

“Disgusting,” he frowned. “I must say, you look like one happy family,” he commented. 

Y/N hummed. “Maybe,” she shrugged. “I love them all to death.”

“But?” he raised a brow. 

She shrugged. “Will I sound ungrateful if I say I hate being in the spotlight?” she made a face. “I can’t do photoshoots, the damn galas and shit forever. I hate attention. I’d rather be like you.”

“Me?”

She nodded. “Teaching mutant kids, living life out of the spotlight. Even though it’s not easy, in my eyes, it’s simpler. Not have to deal with this shitshow.” 

Logan’s fingers found her hair. He brushed them away from her face. His mouth opened, ready to say something - anything - but instead, he grabbed her by the neck, pulled her closer to his body and crashed his lips against her. It was like an invincible string, pulling them together. He couldn’t help it.

It wasn’t slow, gentle. Quite the opposite. Logan’s tongue explored her mouth, tasting every corner he could reach. It was hungry, possessive. One hand held her tightly around her waist while the other slipped from her neck, down her back until it reached her ass, taking as much of her cheek into his palm. 

Both arms wrapped around his neck. A moan escaped her lips when the kisses moved to her jaw and down to her exposed neck. 

“I need to have you,” Logan growled between the kisses. “Fuck, pretty baby.” 

“My room,” she sighed. “We can’t give Stark or Rogers a heart attack if we do it here. Although, it would be funny.” 

Logan pushed away, staring into her eyes. He went back for her lips, only to bite her lower lip, pulling at it. “Lead the way, princess,” he growled. “And hurry, or I will take you here, where anyone can see us.”

Y/N grabbed him by the hand, taking him away from the lounge room. Logan moved her to his side and kept a hand on her smaller back. He needed to feel her, to be sure she was real and not a damn dream.

It took them a good three minutes to get to her room on the upper levels. The moment she closed the door, her hands were on Logan’s jacket, taking it off, letting it fall on the floor. Both of them stepped on it, not caring. His lips smashed against hers, all tongue and teeth. Grunts and moans echoed around them as they moved closer to the bed. 

“I wanna rip this dress off,” he said, hands grabbing both of her covered breasts into his palms, squeezing them. 

Y/N undid his tie. “No,” she chuckled, unbuttoning his white shirt. “Too fucking expensive. Here,” her fingers quickly found the zipper on her left side. She pulled it down and the dress loosened. That was Logan’s sign to pull down on it. 

“Fuck, princess,” his eyes rolled when she stood there in nothing but a black lacy thong. Her breasts were on full display, nipples stiff, just for his eyes. “Fucking perfect.” 

Before he could latch onto her hardened nipples, she forced the white button-up down off his body, hand grabbing onto his muscles, fingers brushing over some of the hair on his chest. She stood on her tiptoes to find his lips in another hungry kiss. 

His tongue dove into her mouth, caressing hers in the process. He felt her hands moving down to his belt, unfastening it. “Impatient?” his voice hoarse.

She pushed him onto her bed. He fell with a loud thud. The adamantium bones almost broke it in the process. “Shit, sorry,” she gasped, forgetting about his weight. But instantly, she climbed on top of him. Y/N pressed her breasts onto his chest as she needed to kiss him again and again. 

Logan switched it up, rolling them so she was under his body. “Now, let me ravish you before I give you my cock,” he said, lips already trailing kissed down her chest, over her breasts. His mouth took a nipple into his mouth, sucking on it, biting it. Her other nipple was teased by his thumb and index finger. 

“Fuck, Logan,” she whimpered. 

His mouth then travelled south. His tongue left a wet trail down her stomach to the hem of her thong. He kneeled on the edge of the bed, taking her leg up in the air, kissing it from the thigh up to her ankle. “I should leave these heels on, darlin’. So fucking sexy. Fuck, and I will.” 

Y/N huffed. “Logan, please, I want your mouth on me.” 

“Ah, already begging. I love it,” he grinned. He put her leg on his shoulder. His fingers brushed down down her leg to her clothed pussy. With two fingers he brushed her over her hidden folds and clit. She practically purred. “Pretty sound.” 

“Come on, Logan, do something.” Y/N was becoming frustrated. He kept teasing her, rubbing circles over her clit. “Don’t be a fucking tease. Not now.” 

A dark laughter escaped his throat. “Patience, darlin’.” He moved the thong to the side, exposing her pussy to the cold air. He saw her clench around nothing. “What a pretty pussy, princess. So wet and ready for me.” And he buried two fingers inside her heat. 

Y/N moaned once his two thick fingers penetrated her. “Shit. Ah.” 

He pulled them out and put them straight into his mouth, tasting her. “Delicious,” hummed. “I’m gonna feast on you. Not now. Now, I need to feel you around my cock, princess.” 

Logan grabbed her thong and pulled it off her legs, leaving her completely exposed to his eyes. He made sure to leave those heels on. “Fucking gorgeous.” He stood up to get rid of his pants. 

The moment he unzipped them, she knew he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. “Shit, Logan, commando?” she raised a brow. His length was already hard, ready for attention. The tip of his cock was angry red, already leaking precum. 

She was ready to reach for him, take his cock into her mouth and guide it into her mouth. Logan was faster. He pushed her back on the bed, shaking his head. “No, no, darlin’. I’m gonna fuck you now. And next time, I will let you have a taste of me.” 

“Next time?” she smiled. 

Logan leaned closer, his head above hers. “You think this a one-time thing? Oh, pretty girl. No, no.” He pressed a soft kiss to her lips. 

“Good,” she gave him a bright smile. 

He pumped his length a few times before he positioned his cock to her opening. Slowly, he pushed inside until her hungry pussy took him all in. He cursed, groaned when her walls clenched around him. Once he was buried to the hilt, Y/N sank her nails into his chest, leaving red trails down to his belly button. They immediately disappeared, healed.

“Feel so good, princess. So tight,” he moaned as he started to move. At first slow, enjoying every stroke, watching her face like a hawk. He loved how her eyes rolled, how she gasped for air with each thrust or how she squeezed her breasts. She was fucking perfect. 

His thrusts fastened. He watched her breasts bounce as she kept fucking her. His grunts were louder, more vocal. Logan’s right hand found her neck. He wrapped his fingers around it, squeezing it. And that move made her clench hard around his cock. “Shit, Y/N,” he called her name. “Keep doing that and I will fucking cum inside you.”

Logan’s other hand sneaked between their bodies and found her clit. He started to rub it slowly, changing the movements. 

“P-please,” she gasped. “I need to cum, Logan.”

He smiled. “Yeah, pretty girl? Gonna cum around my cock?”

Y/N nodded, moaning and shaking under him. “Please, please,” she begged. 

“Come on, princess. Cum around my cock. Squeeze me with your sweet pussy,” he demanded. “Wanna feel you when you cum. Shit… Ah… Fuck…”

A few more flickers of his finger was what she needed to reach her peak. Her mouth formed a perfect O, her voice suddenly gone when the wave of pleasure hit her body like a train. Her back arched as he helped her through her orgasm. 

“Fuck, baby, yes,” he grunted. “Milk me dry.” 

A few more thrusts and he spilt inside her. His hot cum painted her walls. He growled like an animal, trying to prolong his climax with every movement. His body shook and then he stopped, panting. 

His eyes found hers. There was a post-orgasmic haze in them. A smile played on her lips. She was perfect, beautiful. Logan quickly leaned down and stole a kiss from her.

“Damn, princess,” he chuckled. “Such a good girl.” 

Those words made her clench around his length again. He grinned. “You like it when I call ya a good girl? Good to know.” Slowly, he pulled her semi-hard cock out of her and rolled next to her, catching his breath. 

Y/N rolled to him, resting her leg over his body. Her fingers drew patterns on his chest, moving through the hair delicately. “This was fun,” she smiled. “It’s been a while since I had a good orgasm.” 

He raised a brow. “Next time, I’ll make you cum on my fingers,” he grabbed her hand and pressed his lips on her fingers. “Then on my tongue and around my cock,” he hummed. “I will fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk for a week.”

She grinned. “Is that a promise?” 

“Fuck yeah, princess.” 

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny no longer has a haunt. So… he decides to find another one. And while he technically has a whole world (other dimensions aren’t an option because he’s going to stay near where Jazz’s grave is, damn it) there’s only a couple of other places with enough ambient ectoplasm to sustain him. Nanda Parbat, Tokyo, and Gotham.

Nanda Parbat had a weird old musty immortal that kept trying to summon him and exchange power for the ability to “take a worthy body and rain as much destruction” as he’d like. As if Danny would need a body to bring the world to its knees.

Tokyo… it’s too far from Jazz’s grave. He could ask Wulf or even open his own portal but when Danny tried it out, Tokyo was too peaceful. Obviously there’s crime, but nothing… nothing big like Danny’s used to.

Danny ends up picking Gotham, even if the sewer zombies and the weird group of rich fruit loops with an adoption problem creeps him out. So, he destroys the portal, packs up his parents’ house and sells it, and hauls ass to the cesspool calling his name. His family’s stuff is stored respectfully in a vault located on the deepest parts of his personal haunt in the Infinite Realms.

And honestly, he’s doing better. Sure, he’s got a shitty apartment near another revenant’s almost-haunt and he feels like he’s drowning all of the time, but Danny isn’t in danger of turning into Dan, he’s catching up on royal paperwork, and he’s got like a job as a barista. In his own coffee shop that paid for using his parent’s money (who, despite their hazardous everything, made a crap ton of money off of their more normal inventions).

Gotham’s got some pretty interesting local gangs, most of which respected the sanctity of Danny’s cafe. Sure, they tried blowing it up and tried extorting money from him in the form of “protection costs” but after three months of failure, they gave up.

(Really, the local gangs gave up when they saw him take three shotgun shells to the chest and continued to work.) (They didn’t know it never hit him. Intangibility is extremely useful.)

The Rogues, on the other hand, just gave Danny flashbacks. Their gimmicks are different, sure, but after years of Box Ghost, Skuller, Lunch Lady, etc., Danny’s more than done with costumed villains. They don’t bother him either. Some of the reason is probably due to Harley and Ivy, who had walked into the cafe and (because they were bruised and scratched up from a fight) triggered Danny’s mother hen tendencies. They were promptly fed and watered and caffeinated and their hyenas were also similarly taken care of. They declared the cafe under their protection and that was that.

Red Hood stops by, and begins to interrogate him. But when Danny met his… helmet eyes? The crime lord paused, paid for his coffee, and sat in a corner table of the cafe for the rest of the day.

And he kept coming back?

But Danny figures it’s because Hood was a revenant and people who had come close to death tends to feel more comfortable around him.

(Considering this is Gotham where people almost die every other day? Yeah, he’s pretty much friends with everyone. Or at least, less likely to get shot.)

(Hood does stay because of the King’s presence and the Pit calming itself, but also Danny’s hot and he’s got a sleeper build and Hood definitely did not imagine himself in the place of the heavy box he saw Danny lift effortlessly onto a table. No.)

But of course, the peace couldn’t last forever. But by then, Danny was so antsy, he welcomed the trouble with open arms.

It starts with a clown. Danny knows who he is. He knows who Danny is.

So, Danny has no idea why the clown thought it would be a good idea to aggravate the owner of Gotham’s official neutral grounds. See, Clovkwork? Danny’s learned how to gauge his own political importance!

“HAHAHAHAHA! COME OUT, DANNY-BOY! LET ME TELL YOU A JOKE!”

Danny comes out and grabs a chair, and with a flat expression, says, “you’re not funny and I hate clowns.”

And then he swings and slams the chair into the Joker’s face. Over and over again until Danny’s sure the clown won’t get back up. The thing about Gotham’s outdoor chairs is that they’re mad out of steel and are bolted down to the ground to prevent undedicated thieves (dedicated thieves can and will steal the bolted down steel chairs). The Joker’s hired muscle just watched this scrawny twenty-something year old yank the steel chair and take some of the fucking ground and the bolts with it and beat the fuck out of their boss who is the literal Joker.

They surrender on the spot and is taken to jail. Danny just smiles at the officers who come by and since he’s got pretty privilege and they don’t want to mess with the guy who, again, owns one of Gotham’s official neutral ground and also beat up Joker without breaking a sweat, the officers just lets him go with a warning.

And then the bats comes, and wow, Danny’s playing mentor to a formally dead person again!

But before that, the Red Hood asks for an autograph on the Gotham Gazette article with a picture of a tired Danny standing over Joker’s prone body. Then Hood stammers through asking Danny out (which Danny said yes to because he’s tired, not blind, and Hood is built like a brick house and HOT).

Batman interrogates him. Danny, who can tell that this man needs therapy and is Sad TM, tells Bats that Danny’s died before and that’s why he’s like this. He also calls Batman a furry, but like in a nice way. And then he kicks Batman out with a coffee and a file on Nanda Parbat.

Now, Danny’s got a date to prepare for and he realizes that maybe this is what Jazz wanted for him- to be happy and mostly safe and happy. (Or, happier, he thinks. It’s been a long time since he’s been truly happy, but this might be a good start)

[midnightcrw]

I almost lost you

Pairing: Cregan Stark x fem!reader

Summary: You never thought you could be as sad as you are now.

Warnings: mention of losing your child, being stabbed (tell me if there should be more triggering things in this one-shot)

a/n: Even though I have never watched hotd before and only heard what happens in the show, I fell in love with Cregan Stark even though he was there for a few minutes. Also note that I'm not the best at writing, especially when it comes to hotd.

You thought you knew what sadness was when you couldn't get pregnant even after being married to Cregan for over a year, but this feeling was far worse.

You had finally fallen pregnant a few weeks ago, and that was probably one of the happiest times for you, as you had not told your husband and were waiting for the perfect moment, but things changed drastically when someone broke into your bedchambers while you were alone. You didn't even have time to react when a man wearing a cloak stabbed you and left you bleeding on the floor.

Painful wasn't even enough to describe it. It was agonizing the way your body froze in shock and you only registered the way the knife was pulled out of your stomach. You couldn't even remember the last four days because you were only lying in bed, not a single word leaving your lips as you had to process what had happened.

Cregan had not been here since that night. He was looking for the man who did it and he was furious, at least that's what the maid had said.

Slowly sitting up, your back now resting on the pillows as you traced the area of your injury, covered by a bandage and your nightgown over it.

"Lady Stark!" A woman's loud voice made you flinch as your heart threatened to burst out of your chest. Your eyes, now wide open, looked at the woman as you realized it was one of the handmaids.

"I'm sorry, my lady, but you didn't respond," the young woman said apologetically, looking down in shame. "Don't worry, it was my fault for letting my mind wander. Why did you come here?" Your voice sounded scratchy as you spoke for the first time in days.

"Lord Cregan Stark has arrived and wanted to know if you would like him to come in," at the mention of his name you got nervous, not knowing what was going to happen, but you nodded and motioned for her to let him in.

Only her footsteps could be heard as you began to fiddle with your fingers. You wanted to see him, but at the same time you didn't, too afraid of disappointing him.

The movement of your fingers stopped abruptly as you felt the bed sink down and your name was called softly in a whisper.

You were both in love with each other even before you got married, and you were perfectly content to call each other by name rather than by some title. It made you both more comfortable and felt better than calling him 'Lord' or you 'Lady'.

But in that moment, you wished he wouldn't. You wished that he would treat you as heartlessly as you deserved.

"Please look at me," his gruff voice was the only thing you could hear besides the wind from outside and you hadn't dared to look up, it felt like someone was starting to strangle you until you couldn't breathe anymore.

Your eyes were still looking down and you could see his hand hesitating to touch you as he pleaded with you again and this time you listened.

Slowly, you looked at him, your eyes almost lifeless as Cregan's were filled with concern.

When your husband opened his mouth to speak, you interrupted him by whispering, "I was with child.

And that's when Cregan's expression turned to confusion. No one had told him since you had wanted to be the one to break the news, but unfortunately not in the way you had wished for.

"What?" It was the first time you had ever heard his voice so strained. He started to shake his head in shock as his eyes moved rapidly to find even a hint of a lie on your face and when he didn't find it, the silence grew.

You hated it, you hated the way he looked at you in sadness and you hated it even more that he wasn't angry with you.

"I couldn't even give you an heir," your voice finally broke as a tear ran down your face, your lip trembling as you bit down on it to keep yourself from bursting, but the moment Cregan's arms engulfed your frame, you began to sob your heart out as your body shook while your husband tightened his hold on you.

Even though you couldn't see Cregan's face as it was buried in the crook of your neck, you knew he was letting his tears fall as you felt them on your skin, and it wasn't because of the child, it was because he was terrified of losing you.

Every day he had made it clear that the only thing he ever wanted was for you to be alive, happy and healthy. Not once had he complained about the lack of a child in your life, because he was content to have you around.

"That's the least of an issue, yeah?" He said as he kissed your cheek, still holding you in his arms. "We can always try again whenever you want, alright? The only thing that's important is that you let your body heal first," he said as his lips kissed your tear-stained face several times while reassuring you.

"But you need an heir," you sobbed softly as he let go of your body to hold the sides of your face in his hands. The look on his face suddenly became stern as he maintained eye contact, "An heir can wait." He said as he slowly touched his forehead to yours, "I almost lost you," he fretted as his eyes became glassy like you'd never seen them before.

His beautiful eyes that you could never look away from and now all you wanted to do was look away, not to see the fear in them.

"But you didn't," you replied, "Yes, I didn't, and I've never been more grateful for anything in my life," the moment he finished his sentence, your lips met his with an urgency that was almost primal.

The kiss was raw and filled with emotions that neither of you could put into words. It was desperate, a clash of needs that both you and Cregan could feel as your hearts pounded against your chests.

Your hands tightly curled the fabric of his top as one hand cupped your face while the other tangled in your hair. The two of you were almost breathless as he pulled away to rest his forehead on yours for a second before giving your now swollen lips a feather light peck and pulling away completely.

Your eyes traveled the contours of his face as he began to speak breathlessly, "We should sleep, it is late," you merely nodded as he stood to undress.

And not once did you look away as he undressed, the scars around his skin always drawing your attention. Some of them were already so pale that you couldn't see them unless you got close, while the rest were in shades of red.

Catching yourself staring, you quickly shook your head and moved down to rest your head on the pillow, and a moment later, your husband was lying next to you, his chest unclothed.

"Your wound hasn't caused any problems, has it?" He asked as he turned to the side to get a better look at you.

Your hand made its way to touch the spot where your wound was, "It's healing well, from what I've been told."

"Can I see it?" Cregan seemed hesitant as he spoke, but you only nodded, slowly pulling up your nightgown as you lay on your side for him to see.

The moment your wound was visible, Cregan gently touched your skin. "It's already scarred," he murmured as his eyes inspected the red scar on your stomach.

"It looks ugly," you said as you slowly pulled the material down until your husband stopped you, "You never told me that mine looked ugly."

Without hiding the truth, you muttered, "Because yours are beautiful.

Cregan shook his head at your answer, his eyes softening a fraction as he looked at you, "That's not true. Both of our scars look the same, but you can't see beauty in yours just because it's marring your skin and not mine"

Without letting you respond, he continued, "You are beautiful, inside and out. There's no need to call any part of you ugly because you're insulting my wife, the love of my life, and the lady of Winterfell."

Not saying anything, you buried your face in his chest and that was enough for him, to feel your heart beating against his as you held on to him.

[venusbyline]

I know you write Dark!Jace but what are your headcanons for normal Jace?

HEADCANON: Betrothal with twin!Jacaerys

— pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x twin sister!reader

— type: smut, fluff

— tags/warnings: female!reader, soft!Jacaerys, betrothal, Targcest (twin brother/twin sister), loss of virginity, vaginal sex, cowgirl position, vaginal fingering, fingerfucking, argument, wedding ceremony, implied Lucerys Velaryon/Rhaena Targaryen, underage sex, switch!Jacaerys, switch!reader, canon divergence (No Dance of the Dragons). no use of y/n, english is not my first language.

— author's notes: Since you asked my "normal" headcanons about Jace, I decided to write something related to Twincest, because besides being one of my favorite pairings, I also think that Jacaerys is the HOTD male character who would be most likely to marry his twin sister.

— high valyrian words used: Kostilus (please), Ñuha jorrāeliarzy (my beloved)

❥ about me • Jacaerys masterlist • HOTD masterlist • main masterlist

• Jacaerys would make a perfect betrothed. As the heir to the Iron Throne, the prince had enough privileges to be able to marry any woman of Westeros. At first, everyone thought that marrying him to a Lady from an important house would be a good move, talking about political terms. Daemon even tried to convince Rhaenyra to betroth Jace to his daughter Baela, just as Lucerys was betrothed to Rhaena by their own choices. However, Rhaenyra had always made it clear that she would not meddle about her children's future relationships and would let them get betrothed whenever they wanted and with whomever they wanted.

• Although Rhaenyra was slightly surprised when Jacaerys told his mother that he would like to be married to you, his twin sister. She did not oppose her children's decision. She had always noticed how close the twins were since their birth, and two House Targaryen's siblings betrothing would not be nothing new to the realm.

• Jacaerys would do everything to always be as next to you as possible since your betrothal announcement. He was euphoric at the idea of finally being able to express to the whole world how much he was in love with you. He would hold your hand during dinners and stay by your side during the Small Council meetings.

• Flying together would be one of your favorite couple's activities. You would ride your dragon and Jacaerys would ride Vermax so you could pass through the skies together and then stop somewhere, a little time away from the Court and with more privacy. At first, Jace always tried to be a gentleman, chuckling when you took advantage of the moment alone and kissed him almost roughly. Jacaerys let you guide his body further away from your dragons and lying on the floor so you could sit on his lap and not just kiss him, but also rub yourself against him.

• "Gods... You are such a tease, sweet sister." He murmured as you rested your hands on his torso, your hips moving back and forth, the friction causing both of you to moan even though you were dressed in your flying clothes.

• Jacaerys tried to wait until the wedding. He really tried very well. He was a gentle young man and had been successful in never going to brothels. But prostitutes were nothing compared to you. Your twin only had eyes for you, and it was not long before the two of you fucking in secret. It started when he went to your chambers during a night when he was insomnia, managing to get through without being caught by the guards thank the Seven.

• You were horny that night. All it took was a bit of small talk between you until the night turned into sighs and low moans of pleasure as Jace sank into your cunt, his eyes wide and full lips parted, making whimpering sounds and enjoying the warm of your tight walls.

• After taking your virginity and losing his too, Jace held you in his embrace, both of you naked and sweaty, your breasts pressed against his chest until you finally fell asleep. He stroked your damp hair and placed a kiss on your forehead, covering your body before leaving, so as not to arouse any suspicions whisper. Even though Rhaenyra was not against sex before marriage, neither you nor Jace wanted your mother to know about you two already doing it.

• Free time at the library was also a joint pastime. It always started with you accompanying your twin during his study hours, helping him learn High Valyrian, correcting him when he pronounced something wrong.

• Jacaerys was always embarrassed when he was corrected, his cheeks red and a pout on his lips to try to hide his slight anger. You knew how much he pressured himself, afraid of not being a great King in the future. Some alternative study methods were needed and established then.

• "Kostilus, ñuha jorrāeliarzy..." Jace moaned tearfully, the High Valyrian pronunciation of the plea and the sweet words sounding perfect for someone who was feeling his betrothed riding his cock. "Ride me faster. I need to cum inside your cunt so bad..." Your brother grabbed your hips to help you move the way he needed.

• During the betrothal, Jace was so soft when he was fucking you, unfortunately needing to avoid love marks that would make it very clear what you were doing hidden in the free time. He also focused more on your pleasure than his own, always making a point of caressing your sensitive pearl with his fingers and playing with them inside you, until you had to put the palm of your hand in your mouth to muffle the moans, sounds wet sounds echoing throughout the room.

• When your lunar blood arrived, your twin's behavior was something mixed with relief and disappointment. A part of him was less worried knowing that you were not pregnant until the wedding ceremony. A pregnancy before the right time could cause a lot of bad rumors about the two of you. But he was also so fucking frustrated, thinking about what your future children would be like, so eager to make that dream come true soon.

• You were not a termagant couple. The few times you fought during the betrothal were because Jace was being stubborn and childish on a daily basis. If he was reprimanded at a Small Council meeting, he would sulk for hours, making you two argue because you tried to talk to him about the situation and he just gave you the silent treatment, even though you were not directly connected to the problem. The arguments did not last long, ending with Jace entering your chambers late at night to apologize, making you sigh with relief and then welcoming him to your bed so you could spend a few hours together to make up the lost time.

• We can say that Jacaerys would be extremely excited for the wedding ceremony. The more the days approached, the happier and more talkative about that your twin brother became. He had been waiting for that specific day for months like an eager boy, also secretly dreaming about a life like this for years. It would be a classic Valyrian Wedding rite and Jace would be smiling at you all the time as if you were the prettiest girl in all of Westeros. And in his eyes you really were. His twin sister, the love of his life. Now his dear wife, the one who would be the mother of his children and his Queen Consort.

[onlymexsarah]

Burning Flames IV | Eris Vanserra

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron!reader Summary: Since you became High Fae there were only two things that scared you: your deadly power and your attraction toward the male you should hate most after Tamlin, Eris Vanserra. Warnings: mention of smut, Eris Vanserra being Eris Vanserra, my english and probably spelling mistakes since I'm also sick A/n: I apologize for my lateness, but uni is kinda taking all my time away. I was dying with the need to write about this scene, and I hope you'll like it🫶🏻 if you want to be add at the taglist just ask! Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5

"Eris is coming to the Winter Solstice celebration at the Hewn City." Rhys informed the Inner Circle while you were discussing alliances for the probable war against Briallyn. "He's shaken by Tamlin catching you two meeting with him," he nodded toward your twin and Cassian. "and wondering if we'll balk from the alliance now that there's the slim chance Tamlin might reveal it. Or decide to sell him out first. We need to remind Eris of our continued commitment, and that he is...important to us. That we have his back."

You heard Cassian snarling with disgust while your sister Feyre echoed the expression.

"So buy him a present," Feyre said, waving a hand. "and tell him we all send our love."

You snorted amused at that. "Don't you have some old, dusty jewels? Give him one of those." You said obvious while you rested your arm on the chair's back..

"He'll want more than that." Rhys said, mouth twiching, and his eyes fell upon Nesta.

Nesta. Rhys wanted to use Nesta to win Eris over. The thought alone made you sick. Why her? Why Rhys thought that Nesta alone could make Eris swung at her feet? He had saved your life, not hers. Actually, he would have let Nesta die if it hadn't been for you and Elain.

But of course, Rhysand couldn't know that. No one knew Eris had saved your life during the war, and strangely enough Eris had never bragged himself nor made any comment.

From what Cassian had said it had seemed that Eris had been interest in flirting with your twin, and you had to admit, he had never tried to flirt with you in any occasion. Actually, he had tried to break your patience. So it did make sense, you supposed. Nesta was the most logical choice.

"You want me to dance with Eris?" asked Nesta caution.

"I want you to seduce him." Rhys' words made your stomach twisting with an unease sensation. You didn't know why you were reacting like that, and you told yourself that it was because you didn't want Nesta close to someone like him. It wasn't because the thought of Eris giving his full attention to someone who wasn't you made you sick. No, you could never want something like that. Someone like him.

"You really think that Nesta's dancing with Eris will solidify his loyalty?" you hadn't meant to make the question sound so...disgusted, but thankfully no one seemed to notice. Actually, most of them echoed your tone.

"I think Eris is our ally, and will expect to dance with a lady of this court at the ball no matter what." Explained Rhys to you, probably mistaking your disgust for worryness. "I won't let Feyre within five feet of him, Mor might kill him, and Amren is more likely to scare him off than win him over, so you, Nesta and Elain are the only options, but from Cassian's report Eris hadn't seem too friendly with you."

Cassian should learn when to shut up, you thought annoyed. Of course Cassian would say that, because Eris had made sure to annoy you at the meeting with Lucien, Vassa and Jurian.

"Was Cassian wrong?" asked Rhys carefully, reading something in your eyes that you quickly hide.

"No." You said with a lazy smile. There was no point in telling them what had happened during the war, probably Eris had already forgotten it too. "He was completely right."

Rhys watched you for few more seconds with his violet eyes that sometime seemed like they could look right inside your soul and read it. You checked your mental shield and found it intact, the fire that you pushed down burned brightly around your mind, protecting it.

***

The black dress you had chosen for the night fell comfortably over your body as you walked down the hall of Hewn City's palace. You had opted for something elegant yet less reveling than Mor's and Feyre's. The straps fell lightly down your shoulders, the bodice had a sweetheart neckline with what looked like black flames over your collarbone. You still had to decide if it was a hint that Rhys knew about your power still lingering in your body, or it was for pure imagine. The flames seemed to fell down your body in a lovely silky gown that captured the lights with each step.

Unfortunately, you now had to wear gloves, because the burned scars had expanded all over your hands, and the gloves was the only way to hide them. Thankfully, since it was winter no one ever questioned them, and tonight you had put some long, black, silky gloves that matched your skirt.

You were currently behind Rhysand and Feyre, between Elain and Nesta as the two of them still were on no speaking term. Tonight was a show of power, with your sister's pregnancy annouce and your twin's beauty offered on a silver plate for the Heir of Autumn.

You had appreaciated how Elain had wanted to come, and it didn't go unnoticed to you that she had opted to wear a plain dress with just two pearls in her hair to not outshine Nesta. Elain had always been the prettiest of the four of you, but tonight it was Nesta's time to shine, and she had gladly disguided herself as plain and boring.

As you entered the throne room every eyes fell on you. Not on you, actually. On your sister's swollen belly. You heard gaspes and whispers all around you. Keir's looked torn between anger and shock, and you had to hide an amused grin.

As your eyes scanned the room with a bored expression, you took you ropportunity to look at the redhead beside Keir, knowing he would be too focus on your sister to notice your staring, but as your eyes fell on the him you found two green pounds already staring at you.

Eris was looking at you. Not at Feyre. Not at Nesta, the one supposed to catch his attention. He was looking only at you, and you hated how your heart skipped a beat.

He looked at you like he could admire you for the first time, and somehow it was true. You both knew that no one would notice your staring at each other, because everyone's attention was on Feyre.

You used every second to drank the sigth of him. Eris was dressed in Night Court black, and you could be damned for how handsomely he was. He looked like the darkest of the dark dreams that someone shouldn't have. That someone be you.

That game was dangerous, you realized. Those stolen glances, stolen moments would lead you only in a dangerous territory. But danger looked so appealing when he let his eyes slowly roam all over your body.

For a moment you felt more naked than Mor and Feyre.

Eris must have noticed the black flames on your dress because he slowly grinned. It wasn's a mocking grin, it wasn't even amused. It was one of Eris' grin that you still had to classify.

His eyes met yours again, and he did the last thing you had expected. He winked at you. He fucking winked.

You felt your cheeks getting warmer and you quickly looked in front of you again, dismissing him as if nothing had happened, and for a moment you wished it hadn't.

As Feyre and Rhysand sat on their thrones, you and your sisters went to stand at the foot of the dais, between Cassian and Azriel who looked like they could kill anyone watching at any of you in a wrong way.

Keir and Eris scuttled forward, and while the former bowed, you pointly avoided to look at the latter. "Allow me to exted my congratulations." said Keir and you knew that he didn't mean a word of it.

"And allow me to extened mine as well," said Eris with a voice that could warm even the coldest spot of the Winter Court. "on behalf of my father and the entire Autumn Court. He shall be thrilled by this news."

Rhysand mouth curled in a cruel half smile, the stars winking iut in his eyes. "I'm sure he will."

Sometime you forgot how powerful and cruel Rhysand could be. He was always gentle and kind with you, with all his family. But the moment that something threated Feyre's life? He become feral, and you were glad for it. You were glad Feyre had found Rhysand.

They gave the crowd some command to make it loose, and when Eris did to follow Keir Rhysand stopped him. "Before you join the merriment, Eris, I'd like to present you with your Solstice gift."

A long black box appeared in his hands, and you tried your best to hide your confusion. Rhysand had never spoken of other gifts beside Nesta, so what was all of this about?

As the box flew to Eris and he opened it you could see the dagger that Nesta had made. You hold your breath as Eris's face went pale. "There's flame in it." He said. "Why give this to me?"

"You're our ally, " Feyre said, a hand resting on her belly. "You face enemies that exist outside of the usual rules of magic. It seemed only fair to give you a weapon that operates outside those rules, too."

You cursed in your mind as Eris understood that the dagger was Made and started to question Rhysand. Eris culd be the monster of everyone's story, but he was no idiot. Actually, you had the suspicious that he might be smarter than he let the other see.

“Ordinarily I would ask you to dance," said Feyre kindly. "but my condition has left me unwell enough that I worry about what so much spinning would do to my stomach.” It was the truth. Feyre had bolted from dinner three nights ago to find the nearest toilet. Now she looked at you and your sisters, as if deciding who would dance with him.

You looked away, not really wanting to see Eris admiring your sister Nesta. You focused your attention on the couples dancing, and you couldn't wait to be among them. You didn't have the same passion as Nesta, but you had always enjoyed it if you had a good partner.

You had asked Morrigan to give you lessons too, just to be able to dance freely with whoever might ask you. It had been fun when you had found Cassian too at Mor's lessons, silently agreeing that you would say nothing about the other.

"One of my oldest sisters shall take my place." you barely heard Feyre's words, knowing she would be gesturing to Nesta, so there would be no point to look away from the musicians.

It was when you heard Nesta stiffining beside you and Elain elbowing you that you looked away and gave the latter a confused look. Elain only inclined her head, pointing to something in front of you.

You furrowed your eyebrow, still confused, and looked where Elain was pointing. Your breath caught in your throat as you found Eris standing in front of you with his hand strechted out.

"If I require right, you are the oldest." He said with that lover's voice that tricked your mind.

You gulped and tried to not let your eyes widining too much as you gave him a nod. "Only by few days."

Why was he not looking at your sister? It was quiet obvious that she was the one planned to be offered to him, the one who looked like a queen. Hadn't Cassian said that Eris had been flirtatious with Nesta? Hadn't Cassian said that Eris seemed to loath you? Then why was he looking like that?

You slowly brought your hand on his, as you had done the day he had saved you, and something about his wicked, sparkling eyes told you he remembered it too.

He brought your hand around his arm, and accompanied you at the center of the dancing floor with a royaly grace. Even throught your gloves you could feel the warmness that his body radiated. A warmness that somehow made your body relax. Hadn't you had asked this to the cauldron? Warm, nice fire? Not the destructive flames that burned inside you.

Eris stopped at the very center of the floor, and you could already feel everyone's gaze on the two of you. What a gossip this would be; one of the High Lady's sisters with the heir of the Autumn Court, dancong at the Winter Solstice.

"Saying that you look gorgeous would be minimalizing." Said Eris as he gently put his free arm around your waist bringing your bodies much closer than they had ever been. "But flames are supposed to be red, not black."

You would have smashed his grin if the violin's hadn't started playing. You put your free hand on his shoulder and rose your chin to meet his eyes, with the fakest, sweetest smile you could master.

You had indeed wanted the dress to be red, because it had always been your favourite colour, but the Night Court's colour was black, and you needed to appear as a unit front.

"I wouldn't want to be mistaken for a member of your beautiful, appealing court." Your tone was soft, not wanting to gain any more stares than what you already had on you, but the sarcasm was there. "I find black perfect for this dress."

You were soo the wrong person to complete the job. Nesta was supposed to seduce him, because Eris didn't rail her up like he did with you. It was impossibile in your mind to even think of being nice with him, let alone flirt.

"What is not perfect is this dance, I'm afraid." he said still with his smirk on his lips. You looked at him confused, and he leaned close to your ear making you hold your breath. "Your High Lord and High Lady look like I have just spilled icy water on them. Aren't you supposed to be the oldest? They seem to think I might eat you in any moment."

His hot breath on your neck made it ashamedly hard to concentrate on what he was saying, and you would never admit to yourself that it was only when he leaned away that you found the capacity to speak again.

"We were all convinced you enjoyed my sister's company more than mine." You managed to say, offering him that truth.

The sound of his dark chuckle was like silk on your skin. His grip on your hadn and waist tightned a little, and you would have ripped his hands away if it would have been any other moment, or any other male.

"And why would I lose time playing with her when I have my perfect match right here?"

Cauldron boils you.

It was a bad, bad, bad, bad thing that you knees almost went weak at his words. It was even worst that your stomach seemed to be dancing its own waltz inside you. It had been so long since someone had touched you like that and hell, no one had ever looked at you like that. Ever.

You told yourself that that was the reason why he was having that effect in you. You had been used to the human's beauty, then you had been too busy to save the world to even notice High Fae's beauty. Eris had just happened to be in the right place at the right time and boom, you were weak on your knees for him.

"Someone might stirr if they heard you calling me your perfect match." You said finding a surprising calm, steady voice. "The future High Lord of the Autumn Court should have no equals."

Something flickered in his eyes as he looked at you with the typical gaze full of secrets. "I have no worries of any equal since you seem so determinated to conceal yourself as a rabbit rather than the dragon that you are."

His words managed to make you shut down every...confusing feeling you had inside and rose your chin a bit higher, watching him with a bored expression. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Is that so?" he slightly tilted his head with the same eyes that a predator used to study its opponent. "Then I take the gloves as the newest fashion in the Night Court? Curious, I don't see many other females wearing them."

He made you do a double spin on your feet before bringing you back against his chest. "I would have thought that a princeling had more important things to think about than the fashion in other Courts." You said coldly.

You hadn't realized that the music had ended until a new dance began and Eris easily led you throught that. It was slower, lighter, but you didn't need to think about the steps; Eris was annoyingly good at leading you.

His eyes darkened a little, as if you had just insulted him. The grip on your hand tightened and you hissed in pain as his fingers pushed into the burned flesh of your palm. "Tell me, it's still about fashion?" He tightened his fingers again and you stepped on his foot angrily.

"Do it again and your father will have to name another heir." you hissed still blinded with pain. Fuck off the whole court him thing; you would have never been good at it nevertless. If Eris wanted to play with you, you would play back.

***

Cauldron boils him.

He was so down bad for you. Never in five hundred years he had met someone who could turn him on just with a glare. And the glare you were giving him was of pure challenge and threat.

He laughed at you. He laughed because it was the only thing he could do. He laughed because the alternative was to see if you would still talk to him like that if he pushed you against a dark corner of the palace, knelt and buried his face under the gown of your dress.

That fucking dress.

You looked like a night Goddess of fire, and the Mother knew how happily he would worship you if given the chance.

But he couldn't. Not until his father was alive. Not until he would be free to let you know the true Eris and let you decide what to do about the bond. Not until you desired him as much as he desired you.

"I would like to see you try without any training." he lightly mocked you, needing to see how far he could push you until you finally gave in and unleashed what you had inside. "But I could make your odds better if you just admit what we both know, Little Flame."

He grinned as he sensed the effect that the name had on you. You face stayed neutral, it was your heartbeat that betrayed you. Eris had to admit it, even if you had just entered the game of scheming, courts and alliances you were doing a great job at it.

"I'm afraid I'm not following you." You said giving the room around you a bored look. He knew you were actually seeing if any of your court was listening to the two of you.

Eris had a vague idea of what would happen if you find out about the bond in the near future. You would be caution about it at first, then after few words with Mor and the Inner Circle you would decide to break it, and why wouldn't you? He was the villain in everyone's story, and he was fine with that. He didn't really plan to change that narrative in your head, yet. But he refused to sit still while you burned yourself in your own power and the Inner Circle did nothing to stop it.

"I could train you." He said suddenly serious. "If you are too ashamed to show your precious family what monstrous power you have, you should have no problem showing it to someone who is already considered a monster."

You arched an eyebrow. "Considered?" you asked ironically. "I recall hearing quiet thrutful stories about you for just considerating what you are."

He didn't pretend to be hurt by your words. He knew exactly what you had heard, what he had done, but obviously you couldn't know the whole true. No one did execpt for one. "Careful to let your new ears believe everything they say about me."

"Because you seem so much more trustfully." You said with a ironic smile that he immediately matched.

"Train with me a day every week, and I'll answer honestly to one question of your choice." He proposed before spunning you on your feet. "Maybe you'll make your own idea of me."

Those beautiful, careful eyes studied him, and he almost knelt right there. "Why would I accept? What do you gain from this?"

His grin widened. "I'm pleased to see that those brutes taught you something useful." He mused. "Let just say I think your power will play a key part to my...succesion on the throne, and I rather have you as my ally than my enemy."

You narrowed your eyes, surely pondering every single word he had said. "I won't do the dirty job for you."

Eris knew you meant killing his father, but of course you couldn't say it out loud since Keir was still around. He admired your quick thinking, and he was extremely glad that you were smart enought to guard yourself around people like himself.

He chuckled lowly. "That is a matter I'll deal with alone." He stated firmly and the fingers on your back lightly caressed you, assuringly. "I just ask for your help when my court will need it."

Eris would never admit out loud that he already know what kind of favour he would need from you. The idea had come up as the two of your were talking, but he knew that if he had proposed it right away you would have left him on the dancing floor without a second thought.

"One day of training everyweek with one question of my choice in exchange of my help, once, when you'll need it with your court?" You carefully stated looking cautionsly in his eyes.

He gave you a grin as he leaned his face closer to yours. "Do we have a bargain, Little Flame?"

He had to call all his hundreds years of training to not close his eyes as your scent hit his nose. It was sweet, like cinnamon and caramel. It was everything he recalled to like, to bring him joy.

He smelled the shift in your scent as your faces were dangerously close, and for the first time he was glad that you were new to this world because otherwise your would have smelled the shift in his scent too. And that, would have bring the two of you in a dangerous situation.

"Yes." you said after a while. He could see that you had thought of every outcome of that bargain, you probably had thought about how to tell the others, what reactions they would have and in how many ways it could end badly. "But you have to stop calling me that."

He laughed. "You should have put it into the conditions of the bargain before you accepted it."

As he said those words he felt something stung on his back. It felt like someone was writing something on his skin with fire. It didn't hurt, it was more like a tickle, and when he saw your hand flying from his shoulder to your back, scracthing the same part on your body that tickled on his, he knew that the bargain had been sealed.

The music ended and he gave you a bow, bringing your gloved hand to his lips. He could smell the burned flash, and a part of him wanted to kill Rhysand to have let you do it to yourself. But he only placed a gently kiss on it, sensing how you, elegantly, shivered and gave you a charming smile.

He studied you for a monent. Your eyes were looking at him with what was not surely kindness, but at the same time was not hatred too. You were trying to find your place in this new, cahotic world, he understood. His eyes traveled on your dress, and his jaw clenched. You would have been a beautiful living flame if it hadn't been concealed with black, somehow a represantion of how you wanted to conceal yourself to fit in that Court.

"Let me begin the training now with a little advise." Eris said still with your hand in his. Your eyes flashed with curious. "Do not follow blindly those who walk in front of you. You might find out that black is not the colout that suits you best."

He didn't wait for you to process his words as he gave you a last, parting smile and turned on his heels, already putting his mask back on. "See you next week, Little Flame." he mocked over his shoulder as he walked away.

He heard you curse him under your breath, and it only made him grin amused. He found it surprisingly fun to rile you up, it was a kind of amusement that he didn't feel with anyone else. He needed it as a reminder that his equal was indeed like him: fierce, smart, witty and always ready to fight when needed.

He walked toward Rhysand and Feyre, still seated on their thrones, already watching him with their calculated eyes. He was sure that they were probably having a mental conversation about what they had seen, and Eris fought the urge to smirk.

"Did you enjoy the company of my sister?" asked Feyre politely with a lazy smile. He had to admit that both her and Rhysand did a great job at acting like the rulers of the Court of Nightmares.

"Your sister's company had been delightful." He said matching her smile. Before asking them what he wanted he was curious to test the waters. "But I'm curious; you showed me what I can have, Rhysand. I'm intrigued enough to ask what you'd want in return."

He saw Feyre's jaw clenching. She would never sold her sister, and surely not to someone like him, but it was still fun to imply just that.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Rhysand not betraying a single thought that was in his mind.

"I mean that whatever you want, I'll give it to you if you promise to keep her safe and away from my father." Eris said suddenly serious.

He saw the confusion flashing on both rulers' face as they surely spoke to each other mind to mind. Eris knew he was letting them see too much, but it was the only way he could be sure that you would be safe as long as his father was alive. They needed to know in what danger you were if his father ever find out what you and Eris were.

"Explain yourself better." Feyre commanded with a cold voice.

He gave her a mocking grin. "You keep your oldest sister away from my father, and train her. and I'll give you whatever you want. You wanted to reassure our alliance? This is the prize."

"I cannot force her in doing anything she doesn't want to, but I can come up with the right arrangment for that." Rhysand said calmly. "But it seems foolish for you to offer me anything I want in exchange for...her safety. Why would you care so much about that?"

He could see that both Rhysand and Feyre were trying to understand what kind of game he was playing, what kind of tricks he had in mind, so he let his mind shield opening a little, inviting them in his head to speak the words that he could not say out loud.

"Because it seems that the Cauldron gave two Archeron sisters to the Night Court, and two to the Autumn Court." Eris said in his mind, knowing that they both were listening.

Feyre's face drained of colours as Rhysand's eyes hardned and his deep, dangerous voice sounded in his mind. "Why should we believe you?"

Eris smirked and let the memory of the day he had saved you fill his mind, letting them see it. He replied the moment the bond stirred inside him, urging him to run toward you. He made them see the exact moment your eyes met and his whole existence screamed the word Mate all over again. He made them see how he had foolishly followed you to the King of Hybern, keeping you safe until you had run to Nesta. He let them see how hard it had been to return to his father and hide eveything, how scared he had been when after the war he had been sat beside his father while you were right in front of him, terrified that any gaze might give him away. The last memory was of when he had found you outside the Autumn Court's camp, and he had been so close to grab you and winnow on the other side of Prythian, not wanting you close to his father in any way.

He stopped the memories just as the one of when you had cured him started to pop in his mind, and watched careful the reaction of the two rulers in front of him. "I cannot risk for the bond to snap for her when my father or any of his allies are close. He would hurt her to hurt me, and despide what you think of me, I won't let it happen."

Rhysand studied him with a heavy, dangerous attention. "I could keep her away from you and have you do anything I want just for the chance to see her, do you realize that?"

A test. Eris knew it was a test, because Rhysand would never do something like that, but still Eris couldn't help but laugh ironically. "It would be the first time you'd do something smart, Rhysand." he tilted his head in a mocking grin.

"You should speak of this matter with Feyre then." Rhysand stated, making a good job at sounding bored. "It's her sister you are mated with."

"I could have your head in any moment if I suspect you to be a danger for her." said Feyre in his head viciously.

"I would like to think that the bond would make your sister miss me a little if you do that." he answered ironically placing a hand on his heart. "But I'll give you everything else you need. After all you are my sister-in-the-cauldron, you might find out you'll have more advantages from this situation than your boring mate."

"Go away before I test that bond theory." threatened him Feyre making his grin grew wider.

taglist: @adventure-awaits13 @blueeclipsepaperstudent @huffleruffplant @azysmate @bia-wayne-west @babypeapoddd @lady-targaryens-world @sourapplex @ghostwritermia @asteria33 @pinklemonade34 @tell-me-a-poem @sourapplex @speedypersonawhispers @historygeekqueen @marly500 @webvics

[w1ll0wray]

hear me out, jinx X f!reader in a bridgerton like au.

where jinx is like the rebellious daughter/ward of a noble and she never really attends balls until she's forced to go in this one with her dad (preferably silco!) and in this ball she sees/meets reader who's so elegant, poised, and composed, like an absolute belladonna. jinx just falls for her and she ends up attending practically every ball that reader attends just to see her. but at some point, reader notices and confronts her about it.

pls :3

THE CHERRY ON TOP ft. bridgerton au jinx x fem!reader

⊹₊⟡⋆ summary: to her dismay, the rebellious jinx is suddenly forced by her father, Silco, to attend the first Winter ball in order to show herself in society. though, when she catches a glimpse of you there, she can’t help but attend every ball hosted this season.

⊹₊⟡⋆warnings: dom!jinx x sub!femreader, bridgerton au, dukes daughter!jinx x marquis daughter!reader, rebellious daughter!jinx, carriage, cherry, fingering, reader!receiving, other characters mentioned, men or minors dni, smut, regency era.

wc. 2.9k

𐙚 note | I’d really appreciate it if you would not only just like, but also reblog & give me feedback. thank you:)

this was a request; I hope this reached your expectations!

“You will be attending the Winter ball with me tonight.” 

Jinx’s head snapped up from her breakfast, Her fork remains stuck in the chocolate-drizzled waffle, hand frozen in place as she pauses. 

“I will not.” She spouts out, shooting daggers at Silco’s face, his attention on the newspaper sprawled out in front of him. Jinx swallowed down her breakfast, sitting up from her seat at the dinner table, taking furious steps towards him. 

Banging a fist on the table, he doesn’t flinch at her attempt to spook him, rather amused, “You need to make an appearance again— you’re the duke’s daughter after all.” He hummed out the last part, sipping on his tea. She groans dramatically, rolling her eyes, “It’s not like you’d need me there.” 

“You’re of age. Who knows, you might meet some intriguing ladies.” He noticed the way she tensed up at the mention of girls, patting himself in the back for figuring out her secret. Jinx crossed her arms, hmphing, “Fine, but I’m not wearing a dress.” 

Silco shrugged, waving a hand in the air, 

“I’ll let you borrow from my closet.” Once Jinx left the dining room, he smiled at his victory, assured that his daughter wouldn’t be in a bar again. 

Jinx was irritated. 

The last time she attended a ball— she was so disinterested, to the point where they had to leave because she scared off the host’s son. Chuckling at the memory, Jinx’s joyful moment ended in a split second, the sound of violins bringing her back to reality.

To be exact, the ball was a bore. She stood next to the drink stands, the lemonade stinging her throat. She knew who would be at this ball—she was staring right at her. 

Her sister. 

Arms intertwined with her wife, Vi was greeting another couple, a toothy grin curved on her lips. Jinx huffed, frustrated by her sister’s presence. They grew distant after the wedding, Vi naturally occupied with her new life. Jinx envied the fact that she found her partner for life, the sight of them acting all lovey-dovey prompted her to look away. 

Regretfully, she’d been seen. 

“Powder!” Of course, only Vi would call her by that name. Jinx resisted the urge to scoff, whirling around to face her older sister. Engulfed in a warm hug, Jinx hesitantly wrapped her arms around her, resting her head on her shoulder, “Hey, sis.” 

Vi then explained how proud of her she was, Jinx’s appearance rare these days. After a couple of cheesy remarks from Vi, she left as soon as Caitlyn needed her help. Sighing, Jinx moved the glass she held around, inspecting the lemonade swirl around. Opting for sitting, she sat down at one of the empty tables, slouching into the seat and observing her surroundings. 

Blah, blah, blah. 

She scrunched her nose, weary of the social gathering already. 

Though, as her eyes roam around, her gaze lands on you. 

There you stood, in a soft blue gown with a high-waisted empire silhouette fitted just below the bust and flowing gracefully down with delicate puffed short sleeves. A sheer white shawl drapes around you arms, paired with gloves, hair styled in an updo. 

Jinx didn’t know why, but something about the way you stood out from the other ladies, posture excellent and the soft flutter of motion from your silk fan, got her intrigued. She didn’t dare come up to you though, resorting to only staring as you engaged with the other ladies, adding to your graceful demeanor. 

The night soon ended and Jinx left reminiscing about you. 

It wasn’t long until another ball was held. The moment Silco mentioned a ball, Jinx jumped up, “I’ll come with you!” Which left him completely bewildered. 

This ball, however, celebrated the new year outside, everyone dressed in darker colors. It wasn’t long until she caught you sitting with other ladies—Caitlyn and Vi being one of them. 

Jinx’s eyes nearly flew out of their sockets at the sight of those two beside you. As soon as Vi got up to grab some champagne, Jinx appeared, questioning her. 

“How do you know that girl?” She spat, voice low but anyone who passed by knew she was accusing her older sister of something. Vi frowned, brows knitting together, “Know who…?” 

Jinx nodded her head at you, dressed in a burgundy gown, giggling alongside Caitlyn. Her older sister sent her a suspicious glance, sipping on her champagne, “Why the sudden interest?” 

The blue-haired girl groaned, tugging Vi closer to lean into her ear, “I want to get to know her.” She demanded. Vi only chuckled, holding up her hands in defense, “She’s just one of Cait’s friends. I don’t know her well—“ 

“—Help me, then.” Jinx dug a finger on Vi’s chest, squinting her eyes, hopeful for a deal. Vi only defeatedly sighed, “Alright— I’ll try asking her about stuff. Meet me back here later.” She bumped her shoulders with Jinx, leaving her to sit back at the table. 

For the rest of the night, Jinx creepily watched from another table, one where Silco also sat at. The soft curve of your lips whenever you smiled at someone made her heart leap, irritated by Vi’s delayed answer. However, once the food was served, Vi got up to serve herself a drink. Jinx immediately sprang to her feet, ignoring Silco’s voice.

Jinx dangerously leaned against the table, raising an impatient brow, “So?”

Vi poured herself some champagne before facing her, “Cait said she was from a noble house— her father is desperately trying to find her someone to marry.”

Jinx frowned, glancing at you for a split second. Vi continued, “She has two older brothers so….good luck.”  She’s about to leave before Jinx forces her back, “I didn’t ask about her family history— I asked about her!” 

Vi scowled, rolling her eyes at her sister’s disturbance, “How about you go ask her yourself?” Her words caused Jinx to scoff. 

Jinx’s shoulders drooped, defeat evident on her face. Suddenly, a strong hand lands on her back, “I’m sure now is the perfect opportunity.” Vi forcefully tugs her along, ignoring Jinx’s complaints as they approach the table.

Once they arrived, the ladies looked up in confusion at the interruption, but curious expressions took over at the sight of Jinx. Cait was the first to wave, “You’ve finally decided to join us, Jinx.” She added, gesturing for her to sit. As she sat down, Jinx could feel your gaze on her. 

Peering up, Jinx nearly flinches, stunned that you were indeed staring at her. Though, to her surprise, you had softly smiled before facing the lady beside you. Jinx soon felt out of place, not socializing with anyone until one of the ladies had asked her a question.

“Jinx, what are your hobbies?” The lady was sat beside you, fluttering her fan. Jinx leaned back in her seat, hand holding a filled glass, “During my free time I like to practice my archery, hunting and— uhm— drawing skills.” She added the last bit after noticing the horrified gazes. The lady hummed, eyes wide, “…quite peculiar.” 

The blue-haired girl narrowed her gaze, frowning in disdain but kept her mouth shut. She then glanced at you, busy eating your ice scream topped with a cherry. You seemed content, watching the crowd. Thankfully, Jinx had a better view altogether, taking notes of the way the cherry left a red residue on your lips. Suddenly, your head snapped at her direction, but your eyes set on someone else. 

“Excuse me!” You called out, hand coming up. Everyone at the table glanced at the server approaching, holding a plate full of the ice cream glasses you had just eaten. Cait was the first to interrupt, “Don’t you think about it— you’ve had too much!” She shoved your hand down, waving at the server to leave. 

Speechless, Jinx watched as you showed another side of yourself, whining at Cait’s intrusion, “You know I’m not allowed at home— just let me have a bit more.” You tried to bargain, holding Caitlyn’s hands in yours. Though, Cait shook her head, pointing at the fruits in the middle of the table, “Have those instead.” 

You scrunched your nose, “I only like cherries.” Jinx let out a chuckle, prompting you to glance up at her, leaving her to feel overwhelmed and trying to avoid your gaze. 

That night ended with Jinx feeling unsatisfied with the lack of socialization she had done with you— all the other ladies somehow chatted with her except you. 

A few days later, Jinx had gone out for a stroll in towns square. It was a chilly morning, London weather unpredictable as usual. Silco had requested some errands to be done for him, so she accepted and headed first for the bakery. Usually, they’d send over a servant, but Jinx had felt so locked up in her chambers, that she leaped for the opportunity to get out. Smelling the delicious odor of bread, Jinx sighed in delight as she entered the bakery. 

Though, her whole body turns rigid at the sight of you and an older man chatting with the seller, your servants holding packages. Trying to swiftly avoid you, Jinx stood at the corner behind you, praying that you wouldn’t notice her. 

She shamelessly stared at your back, head bent down so that you wouldn’t spot her. You somehow shined compared to every other lady in the bakery, elegance radiating off of you. Jinx craved for a chance to speak to you— but every time she thought of it—  her heart beat quickens and she gets the urge to dig her own hole. To her dismay, once you turn around and start making your way out, you steal a quick glance at her for a split second before continuing. 

Jinx’s heard jumped out of her chest when your eyes met hers, feeling giddy all of a sudden. 

The next time she spots you is at the Spring ball. The moment you came into view, her whole body warmed up. You wore a soft pink gown, your hair down for once, a flower hair piece tucked in. There you sat, at another table, with your father—as did she. 

She couldn’t take her eyes off, your silhouette luring her into a deeper hole of desire. Her eyes trailed up to your lips around the cherry, sucking the ruby juices that escaped. Jinx had a feeling she wasn’t being slick with her intensive staring, but you just looked so beautiful and—

“—Who are you staring at?” Silco’s voice shook Jinx, forcing her gaze to break away from you. Jinx was quick to shoot back, “No one.” 

He sent her a skeptical glance, “Is it the Marquis’s daughter?” Silco detected Jinx’s silence, smiling at her shy behavior. 

“Perhaps you could go speak to her?” He suggested, encouraging her. Jinx only sighed defeatedly, “She’s so different compared to..me.” 

Silco only scoffed, sipping on some crimson wine, “Nonsense.” He then turned his head, “Marquis!” He called out, gesturing for the man to come over. Jinx panicked, whispering profanities when you followed after your father. Silco motioned for them to take a seat. 

Jinx didn’t acknowledge you, trying to seem unbothered. You, however, knew her little game.

You’d be labeled as a fool if you didn’t notice her piercing stares every ball. Eyeing the way her eyes trailed on the crowd, you scrunched your nose, trying to understand why she never spoke to you. 

On the first ball of the season, you felt her burning stare on you the whole event, as if stripping you of your garments. Even at the New year Ball, her eyes would bore into your side. You thought she hated you at first, but then you realized how different  she acted. Her fingers would fidget with her braid, or even the fabric of her pants. 

Silco spoke with your father, leaving you to sit across from Jinx. You tilt your head, inspecting her side profile. You’d be an idiot to not think she was attractive. Even after she had left in the last ball, your friends had whispered about her looks, describing her as dashing. 

You did your own search, digging through Lady Whistledown’s past newspaper for any information. The only thing you found was Jinx getting labeled as an ‘eye-catching woman who had a reputation of flirting openly’. You wondered if she changed since she didn’t seem like the type. 

“Jinx, would you like to dance?” 

Your sudden question stuns Jinx, forcing her to meet your eye. 

“I— Uhm.. Alright.” She muttered, taking a deep breath before holding out her palm for you to take. You glance at her manicured nails, smiling, “Thank you.” 

Jinx tried to seem composed, maneuvering you across the dance floor like it was her second nature. Your hand rested on her shoulder, the other intertwined with hers. Feeling her tense when you place her palm on ur back, you giggled, “.. never danced with a girl?” 

She murmured under her breath, “Not really.” like it was painful to admit. She avoided your eye during the waltz, but you didn’t appreciate that. 

“I know you’ve been watching me.” You whispered in her ear, innocently staring up at her as she forgot a step. She looked away, “I have no idea—“ 

“—Jinx, are you interested in me?” You instantly asked, flickering your gaze across her face. She didn’t answer, biting on her bottom lip. You huff out, “I asked you a question.” She twirled you around, your chest colliding roughly with hers, causing her to inhale deeply. 

You tightened your hold on her shoulder, head leaning in closer, your perfume surrounding Jinx’s senses,  “I would appreciate it if you could stop ignoring me and respond—“ 

In the midst of your words, her lips capture yours. Gasping, your eyes squeeze shut at the impact of her fingers tangled in your hair. She then pulls away, her lips parted, staggered with her actions. 

“This isn’t how it was supposed to be.” She rasped, shoving your shoulder with hers, speeding away from the dance floor. You immediately grab her arm, aware of the numerous stares around you—especially your fathers. She turned her head, pausing when she realized you were following. 

“Take me with you.” You whispered, desire glinting in your gaze. Stunned, Jinx glances at Silco, noticing his triumphant look. Peering back at you, she finally cracks a smile. 

She tugs your hand and guides you out of the ball, into the carriage parking. Jinx immediately shooed her drivers away. The blue-haired girl pulled you in the carriage and not wasting any time in pressing her lips against yours. Grabbing her face, you giggled as she motioned for you to lay down on the plush seat. 

Her attention then laid on the silver plate resting on the opposite sofa, cherries and other fruits there. Wickedly grinning, she leans back down, her tongue slipping past your lips to wrap her tongue around yours.  Whining, your knee nudged her leg, desperate for more. 

She clicks her tongue, “Patience.” She whispered, peppering your neck with wet kisses. Biting your lip to reduce any noises, you arched your back, “Just get on with it.” You whined, forcing her head down. She yanked your hand off, lifting her head, “I said patience.” 

Her fingers then slip beneath your gown, trailing up to your thigh. Your hips twitch in anticipation. At last, she moves your lingerie to the side, slender fingers rubbing your pussy. Whimpering, your head tilts back, soft noises escaping your lips. Jinx inspected the way your brows furrowed, lips parting as she entered one finger. 

Distracting you from the sudden discomfort, she leaves a couple of kisses on your collarbone. When you buck your hips, she takes it as a sign to slightly pull out and plunge her finger back in. You sigh, eyes shutting closed from the ecstasy. A grin spread on Jinx’s lips as your folds suck her finger in, encouraging her to add another finger. Rocking her finger into you, you twitch, legs spreading to give her space. Entering another finger, you gasp, wrapping your arms around her neck. 

Moaning into her ear, her grin multiplies at the accomplishment of having you turn putty in her arms. Jinx suddenly speeds up the pace, ramming her fingers into you, eliciting cries from your pretty lips. She would mutter soft praises in your ear at each hard thrust of her fingers, licking your earlobe, “..so good for me.” She pecks your cheek, humming at each plea you let out. 

Once you came apart on her fingers, she praised you immensely, “Perfect girl.” She pulls her fingers out, coated with your cum. Lifting her wet fingers up to her lips, her tongue pokes out to lick, amused by your entranced gaze. 

She separated her fingers, mischievously grinning as a string of your essence connected in between, noticing the rosy hue spreading across your bashful expression. 

“Don’t be ashamed,” She sucked her fingers clean, “…you taste sweet—of course.” You sat up, your gown covering the spot Jinx just invaded. Turning your attention to the cherries, you picked one up, wasting no time in biting into it. 

Jinx stares as the crimson juices trickle down your chin, stretching her finger out to prevent it from dropping on your gown. Licking her index finger, Jinx hums at the taste of cherries. 

“It’s good, right?” You feel the need to verify if she finds it delicious too. Jinx, however, just shrugs and grabs ahold of your hips, “You know what’s good?” Giggling, you straddle her lap, facing her directly. 

Jinx chuckles, watching you finish the cherry and throwing the seed on the platter before cupping her face. 

  “Now the cherry is on top.” 

creds to the dividers. thank you for reading! reblogs r appreciated:)

[imdoingsortagay]

Rio x reader x agatha smut where the reader is a brat do they punish reader by edging them over and over and they DP reader 🫣

Let's Get Screwed !

Pairing: Agatha Harkness X Rio Vidal x Reader

Word count: 3.0k words

Summary: They weren't paying you any attention and so you took it upon your hands to get it

Warnings: 18+ smut, Mommy and Mistress kink, Kate is here, Anal( R receiving), fingering ( R receiving), double penetration, sort of soft agatha, toys, soft moment.

This neighborhood party hosted by Dottie was getting boring. You didn’t want to go at all and wanted to spend the day at home but your neighbors had begged you to join along as they didn’t want to be stuck hearing about the other ladies. 

Rio and Agatha had taken a bit of a liking to you and you didn’t mind the company on nights where you didn’t have to go to work, which lead to a situationship between the three of you.

They were happily married to each other while you were their third, their perfect little pet who did no wrong.  The young adult just out of college focusing on your career.You assumed they just wanted you as a way to spice up their life not knowing that they had feelings for you. 

“ Are you gonna keep staring at them or actually listen to what I’m saying y/n?” Kate ask you. 

“ staring at who……” you play dumb while your best friend rolls her eyes. You were so bad at faking it. 

“ I’m guessing the three of you are still in the fucking stages them,” she says and you nod and burry your head in your hands dramatically. It had also been 2 weeks since they fucked you and all you wanted was their attention, no matter how you had to get it. 

“ Kate babe you have no idea, like works been up my ass about the new social media campaign and I haven’t had a good fuck in,” you pause to think,” 2 weeks Kate”. One of the moms in the neighborhood hears you cuss and gives you a side eye which you ignore and Kate just holds in her laugh. 

“ have you tried discussing your feelings with the woman? “ she offers up. 

“ nah,” and she rolls her eyes. 

“ texted them about talking ?” 

“ tried but schedules didn’t line up ?” 

“ Carrier pigeon ?” Kate asks sarcastically.

“ Does Yelena know a guy who does that because I’m actually considering it,” and Kate slaps your arm at your stubbornness. 

“ maybe you just need to make them jealous so they can fucking talk about their feelings,” she says sarcastically says, giving you a good idea. 

“ Would you help me Katherine ? Oh pretty please Katherine bishop ? Will you help your bestie friend to-“ and before you can say anything else she lightly slaps your arm to get you to shut up. God you annoyed her sometimes but she was up for the cause. 

“ you’re such a brat,” she chuckles and you smile at the compliment. 

“ hopefully it helps me with them fucking me til I can’t think,” you say, Kate not missing a second at she wraps her arm around your waist. 

The rest of the party , the both of you act like a lovesick couple, Kate holding your hand as the both of you sit together listening to Dottie talk about her plants. Mrs Davis calls you both adorable whenever Kate feeds you a chocolate covered strawberry , all while Rio and Agatha just try to keep their cool infront of everyone.

“ y/n is being a brat Aggie,” Rio says in a quiet tone to her wife as they watch you strut around with Bishop. Both ladies knew that Kate had eyes for Yelena so there was no reason to be throwing yourself at her in front of everyone in the neighborhood. 

“ give it another minute babe,” Agatha says watching you and Kate go off hand in hand,” then we’ll take them home and teach them a lesson”. 

“ you think they saw us?” Kate laughs nervously as she’s in no mood to piss off the milfs. 

“ definitely knowing them they’re on the way the way to come and ‘ talk’ or whatever “ you say. 

“ I’m actually down to go y/n,” and you nod as she leads you towards the backyard exit, not before a soft pair of hands takes you away from your friend.

“ Mrs Harness-Vidal !” Kate’s says while you try to hide your blush. Right on cue.

“ Quite the showing affection the two of you were showing huh superstars?” She curiously asks and before Kate can respond Rio appears with a plate of food to take home.

“ Really Rio ? right now ?” Agatha asks.

“ Mrs Davis offered and I wasn’t gonna say no darling,” she defends herself. 

“ Anyways,” Agatha begins again,” where are you and y/n going anyways Bishop?” 

“ probably gonna go back to my place and watch tv ya know ?” Kate attempts to act cool while you snort at her attempt. 

“ we can take y/n back with us babe,” Rio speaks up,” I know you probably still have to take your dog on a walk right ?” 

Kate gives you one more look before you give her a little nod, signaling to her that you’d be okay. 

“ bye y/n,” she gives you a quick kiss on your cheek before heading back to her place. Oh you were fucked after that.

Both ladies keep their composure as the three of you head over to the married couples place, the sound of Rio humming preventing you from freaking out as to what might happen.

“ on your knees pet,” Rio is the first one to speak and you don’t obey immediately, feeling confident to defy her. 

“ actually I think I’ll sit on the couch,” you say and make your way to the couch, Agatha’s face showing a bit of shock.

“ oh so someone wants to be a brat ? Not listening to your mistress when she’s giving you orders?” Agatha asks and you don’t budge.

“ maybe if you had payed attention to me more at the party mommy I would have behaved you think-“ and Agatha shoves you off the couch to your knees. You let out a huff as the older woman chuckles. 

“ listen here slut,” she has a grip on your chin,” your mistress and I are gonna punish you for being a bad pet for us and throwing yourself at Kate like that. You’re ours til the end of time you know that right ?” 

You nod as best as you can, mind feeling a bit fuzzy at her command. 

“ let mommy use your mouth with her fingers while Mistress undresses herself,” she tells you shoving two of her fingers in your mouth to suck, putting on a show for both ladies in front of you. Rio made a show of slowly taking off the dress in-front of you and her wife, taking her time to taunt you like the way she was an expert at.

“ fuck baby you’re drooling and you haven’t gotten my cock in your greedy mouth, she says with fake pity in her voice,” Rio baby, here or there bedroom”.

“ bedroom,” she answers and the three of you head to their main room, Agatha places you in the middle of the queen size bed while Rio places herself behind you. 

“ Now it’s time for mommy to undress herself for us,” Rio says and you feel her arms wrap around your waist. All you can do is watch as the older woman in front of you makes a show of taking off each of her clothes, mind going crazy whenever you see her naked body and acting like it’s the first time you’ve seen her in all her beauty. 

“ Is she wet for us honey? “ Agatha asks her wife and you feel one of Rio’s hands slowly go to your clothed center and pushing past your panties to feel your wetness. You lift yourself up a bit for the women behind you to take off your shorts and underwear in one swift motion, Rio helping you spread your legs so Agatha can see just how wet you got. 

“ Should Mommy pay attention to that pussy of your pet? Personally I don’t think you after you decided to be a whore at the party and throw yourself onto Kate,” Rio whispers in your ear and you whine as you try to get any sort of friction from her fingers. Agatha gives her wife a look before she removes her fingers and holds you in place again. You wondered what they had planned for you after deciding to act all lovey lovey with Kate and sassing them.

“ Mommy is just gonna run to the closet and grab some items for us okay doll? Stay here with Mistress and maybe if you behave we’ll be easier on you tonight,” and you nod. 

“ Mommy needs your words pet,” Rio holds your chin so you maintain eye contact with the other woman in the room.

“ Okay, Mommy,” and you see the woman smile before she goes to the closet while Rio moves her hand away from your needy pussy. The other hand that was holding you in place goes to your left tit while the other one goes to your mouth and she puts three fingers for you to suck. She might put up a tough exterior on the outside but when the three of you were in the bedroom, she was always the one to be more gentler that Agatha was which you always appreciated. 

“ Just let Mistress play with your body pet,” she orders and you whine around your fingers,” want you to be ready for what Mommy and I have planned for you”. 

It felt like an eternity as Rio took the fingers out of your mouth to go to your other nipple, giggling a bit as she messes with your bread, enjoying the little noises you make and before you try to protest Agatha comes back with two harnesses, a pair of cuffs, bottle of lube and two Dildos. What you don’t see is Rio smile at the idea her wife was proposing. 

“ Someone is feeling adventurous, “ Rio says as the both of them change places for a bit, Rio take a minute to put on one of the harnesses and you feel Agatha sit behind you. 

“ if you even think about using those hands we don’t hesitate to cuff you,” she spits out as her right hands goes to her cunt, two fingers going into your wet cunt with ease. Agatha goes slow and steady as she gets you ready for Rio’s cock. 

Both ladies give each other knowing looks, the woman under you positioning you so that you’re in a comfy position.

“ Mistress is gonna fuck your pussy a bit baby while I play with your other hole okay pet?” 

Oh , anal tonight ? 

“  Mommy needs your word honey,” Rio says as the cock slowly goes into your went cunt, letting you adjust to the size. 

“ Yes Mommy,” you mumble,” I’ll be good”. 

“ Good job pet, who knew I had to mention using your other hole and all of a sudden you decided to be good for Mistress and Mommy” and Rio giggles at your silence. Agatha wasn’t wrong at all, both ladies know you like the back of your hand. 

“ Honey, be a doll and start fucking that pussy while I get their other hole ready for my cock,” and Rio doesn’t have to be told twice as she takes it slow then you feel one one of Agatha’s long fingers tease your puckered hole, feeling the lubed fingers slowly go inside. 

“ Fuck Mistress,” you moan out as Rio fucks your pussy, expertly thrusting into you and teasing your sensitive nipples while her wife get’s to work on you asshole. Agatha groans under you, the feeling of her long fingers bringing you pleasure and without another thought, your right hand goes to your clits for more pleasure but not before Rio stops her movements. 

“ Oh honey, looks like our pet thinks they can touch their needy cunt whenever,” Rio says in a mocking tone, Agatha quickly grabs the cuffs from the right side of her and puts your arms in a comfy position. 

“ We might just be here all night if you can’t decide to be a good pet baby” Agatha says as she starts to thrust the two fingers in your butt, the woman basking in your glory with Rio goes at a slow pace, waiting for what her wife wants to do to you next. 

“ Is Y/N ready for your cock in their ass Aggie? I can tell from the way their legs are slowly wanting to close that our pet is close,” she laughs as she goes just a bit faster to make the point and rubs your clit as a tourating pace. Agatha does want to mess with you just a bit more but she’d rather want you in a more comfortable position first before anything else.

“ Lay down on the bed Rio and then be a good pet for us and sit on Mistress’ lap,” you nod, Rio slowly pulling out of you and going to sit on the bed, Agatha helping you to go back on her cock. No shame as she observes the way your face scrunches up at the feeling of the cock inside of your needy cunt. You lay your head on the other woman’s shoulder as you compose yourself, Rio rubbing small circles in your back while Agatha puts on her purple to use on you.

“ Now just stay still for us pet while I put my cock in your other hole for us,” she whispers in your ear, Rio whispering praises in your other ear to distract you at the toy went in your ass. It’s not like it’s your first time having something inside your ass, both of them training you with small plugs but it’s the first time having something bigger than just a small sized plug in you. 

“ Fuck honey, we should have done with sooner with y/n,” Agatha groans out as you take her cock so easily, Rio taking that as a sign to slowly start thrusting. You moan at the feeling of the woman under you fucking your pussy while Agatha starts to thrust in and out of you as well. You might just cum soon if they keep it up. 

“ Do you like mommy fucking your ass baby?” And you nod. 

“ Pet,” she pulls your hair,” don’t be rude to your mistress and answer the question”

“ Yes Mistress,” you moan out,” I like mommy fucking my ass, I’m so close”. 

“ Unfortunately because you decided to be a brat and whore yourself out, Mommy and I are gonna have fun using you like the little toy you are for us,” Rio chuckles at the fear in your face. The next hour both ladies is filled with begging, several ruined orgasms and so many noises coming from your pretty mouth as the ladies punish you for your actions from earlier, reminding you never to act out in front of them. 

“ Are you gonna be a good pet for us and never do that shit again” Agatha asks and you nod, brain feeling too dizzy and foggy to say any words. 

“ Use your big girl words pet,” Agatha orders,” unless you want to go another round”. 

“ M’sorry, mommy and mistress,” you whine out,” wanna cum, please, wanna cum on your cocks”. Both of them give each other looks, wondering if they should just cave in and let you cum. 

“ Promise not to act like that with Kate pet?” Rio asks and you nod. 

“ Promise to be ours and only ours baby?” You hear Agatha say in a sweet tone and you again nod, finding it hard to keep holding on until Agatha snakes your hand to your clit. 

“ Cum for us pet,” Rio whispers and you scream as your orgasm hits you hard, Rio helping you stay in place as the older woman slowly pulls out of your other hole first before Rio does. She whisper sweet praises in your ear while you bury your head in her chest. Agatha gets rid of her strap in the bathroom then comes back with a cup of water along with a rag to clean you. 

“ I know you wanna sleep honeybee but Aggie needs to clean you off,” and you nod as Rio helps you get off of her cock, your pussy feeling empty while Agatha can’t help to admire what both of them did to you. You whine at the feeling of the wet rag on your sensitive core but Agatha is the one to comfort you and lay with you after. 

“ Aggie? “ 

“ Yeah honeybee?” She asks you, admiring how adorable you look in her arms. Rio quietly makes her way to your right side so that both ladies are in between your tired body. 

“ Did you mean what you said earlier? Bout me being yours and Rio’s only? “ you asks with a bit of hope in your eyes, too tired to go home if they were to say no.

“ Of course,” she says,” Rio and I want you to be ours, we just hope you feel the same way”. 

“ I agree babe,” Rio adds,” We want to treat you like the princess you are, we didn’t like the way Kate was all over you earlier at the party ya know?”

“ I just wanted to see if you would get jealous,” you mumble as they cuddle with you, enjoying the feeling of Agatha petting your hair while Rio rubs your back. Both ladies chuckle at the revelation, a bit shocked they actually took your bait. 

“ I wonder where you got that from,” the sarcasm from Agatha’s mouth as she looks at her wife who acts innocent, making you giggle. For the rest of the night the three of you all take in the comfort of each other before drifting off to sleep in each other’s arms. 

[sukunas-wife]

Sealed 2

1 3

“Year after year after year the hours pass and it never ends, I’ve been here for millennia is Ryomen even trying?” You sat down onto the pile of bones, skeletons supporting you the best they could. The Prison Realm had become your domain, you’d molded every bone and skeleton to do your work. Your elbow resting on the spine of skeleton your cheek pressing against your fist as you stared bored.

Looking down the pile of bones and skeletons holding up your throne that you had formed to match Sukuna’s you saw two Skeletons battling for your amusement. Sighing you slouched back in your throne, watching the two headed four armed skeleton using sharpened bones as spears, fighting a towering 6 armed Skelton. His arms like vices ready to grab and shove whatever into its gaping rib cage to crush it. “This needs more!” The two skeletons looked up at you, before the rumbling of the skeletal centaur could be heard, a centaur of bone, his torso with 4 arms, it held an extended spine as if it were a chain. Lower two arms ready to grab at anything, more specifically rip off the head and spine of its opponents.

“YES! THIS IS what we need!” You smacked the skeleton who stood near you on the back. His bones shaking as you leaned forward, you’d find out soon which of your creations was truly the strongest. “Let’s get this show started-“ it was quick blur of red and black before you were standing head tilted to the side as you stared irked at the man in front of you. “Do YOU KNOW WHAT YOU JUST DID.”

“PLEASE FORGIVE ME! I BEG FOR MERCY I SPENT MUCH OF MY LIFE LOOKING FOR THIS TREASURE THATS BEEN hidden away heating the tales of how the sourcerer’s of old time had wrongly imprisoned a Diety of Fertility separating her from her son. I just come to beg and ask you give my wife your blessing to have a child were old in age but she’s always prayed and begged. I’ve run out of hope until i heard you tale, i beg and hoped you’d have mercy- Sit up” was all you said. The man went from groveling to sitting back on his heels. Sighing the conflict inside of you was great. You looked around tucking your arms into the sleeves of your worn Kimono. “Bring me your wife,” you looked up through the canopy of the trees you see the sun at mid day, “you have two sunsets and then I leave.” The man quickly bowed again at your feet thanking you before running off. You kicked the prison realm box “Damnit who won!” You snatched it up, the air was familiar, you started to look around. The reason it was so familiar was because it wasn’t to far from where you had been sealed. The skeletal remains of the sourcerers made you seethe. You found the remains of the man who sealed you grabbing his skull with your free hand making it look at you, “my child my husband,” you crushed it without fail, “you took it all from me and now everyone will pay.” Th tears falling down were hot. Dropping the remains you started your first technique “Reanimate.” A wave of purple radiated from you, hitting every border of the palace. Skeletal remains shaking and coming together to stand, “Get this place back into shape.” They started moving, you made your way inside the palace the inside help had been reanimated also, your ladies in waiting now remains, standing beside you as you enter “Find fabric I need new robes.” They rushed off and you made it to your old room, the massive bed your son had fallen off many times when he would try to sleep with you and his dad. The wardrobe filled with your husband’s old robes. The room was dusty and smelt humid, shoving the window open you tried not to cry, on the window sill was a talisman Sukuna had created for Yuji. Sniffling you turned your head, finding a small blanket and stuffed Tiger doll Yuji carried around that morning. A gift for his 2nd birthday that he loved and it showed on the tigers rugged appearance.

“My Yuji..” your faint whisper sounding so loud in the silence as you ran your fingers of the stuffed doll holding it close to your chest as you made your way around the room planning your moves. Your plans had always been to follow in similar steps to Sukuna. Except that you’d be known for good to balance out the evil perspective they had of your husband. First, fix your palace. Second, create miracles in the closest town or village to make profit and move into a bigger city to improve profits. Find wherever Sukuna had been sealed away, and break him free. Find Yuji and take him back from this cruel world.

❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️

It’s been over 100 more years and you’d grown accustomed to the changing in technology and times, passing the crowds into your shrine you smiled ruffling the heads of kids who smiled up at you, rubbing the plump bellies of pregnant women you passed and “blessing” the sick with instant health with simply laying a hand on them and smiling kindly.

Entering your shrine for the last time your Gentlemen in waiting was packing up what was left. The last thing left was the main room where your wide throne sat, you’d be leaving it being to your followers, the cushions you provided for your followers during your sessions. “Morí.” You called out and he came from the room he was in bowing and holding his hands out in front of him. “Yes Lady Y/n?”

“Morinozuka, we’re leaving tonight to Sendai City. The mark of my binding vow is burning more, but are you sure that’s where we need to go?”

“Yes Lady Y/n.” He spoke not looking up from his bow. You nodded, “then it’s final.”

❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️

“So this is the place?” You turned to Morí and he nodded. “It’s not as lavish but this is the closest we can get… Your excellency.. I strongly recommend you continue to hide your cursed energy until I suggest otherwise.” You nodded getting out of the car “Very well, I will.”

It was morning when you had arrived, standing in front of the door to the house you looked over an elder man was walking out of his house he looked over and you smiled at him and he had a very faint twitch of his lip. Until a man with pink hair came out, follows by a woman with black hair and you felt it. The pulse of cursed energy and instinctively you grabbed Mori by his robes and pulled him towards you, “That woman, she’s no woman that- is the carrier of your child.” You head snapped instantly to him, “The father of my child, that’s the sorcerer who knew Sukuna, and he is going to mother my child?” Your face showing your exact emotions Mori placing a hand over yours, “Lady Y/n, please recollect your thoughts. I can assure you he will NOT be mothering your child, and her husband will not be fathering him either.” Letting go of his robes you nodded. Looking over your shoulder you watched the couple get into a car the elder man scowling when they started to drive away.

Turning to look at you he tucked his arms behind his back walking over, “Good Morning I’m L/n Y/n.” You greeted bowing after you moved closer, he dismissed you with a wave of your hand. “Morning, Wasuke Itadori.” He cocked a brow and looked over at your house, “It’s been up for sale for a long time. Almost 3 years before someone has moved in.” You looked back at your house, “I moved in to get closer to work. I thought it was just a blessing for everything to line up so perfectly.”

He nodded, “Well, blessings only go so far here. My son’s wife is something I’d consider to be a curse.” You nodded, “oddly enough I wouldn’t disagree. I know a snake when I see one and from a brief glance I wouldn’t trust her at all.”

He nodded, “Have a good day moving in, if you need help my son and his wife will be returning soon. I’m sure either of them would be willing to help with any problems.”

“Have a good day Mr.Itadori.” You bowed your head slightly and you both went separate ways.

“Mori,” you sighed entering your house “count these days.”

[pathologicalreid]

hazardous materials | s.r.

in which Spencer takes care of you after an accident in the lab

margovember

chemist!reader masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff (hurt/comfort) content warnings: chemical burn, lab safety was ignored, first aid, cute banter, tattoos, chemist!reader, kisses word count: 1.24k a/n: every time i write chemist!reader i get bed chem stuck in my head except i've never heard the full song

“Time?” You asked, using the heel of your shoe to slam the door shut once you made your way through. Haphazardly, you dropped your backpack on the ground in front of the coat closet before rushing toward the bedroom.

Spencer was sitting on the couch, a glass of water on the side table and a book in his lap, he glanced over at you when you stopped at the back of the couch to say hi to him, “Forty minutes.” He reached out for your arm, a careful gesture just because he wasn’t ready for you to be out of his view yet, but his hand caught on your forearm.

You hissed at the contact, pulling your arm back and shaking it out, “Tight grip,” you tried to wave it off, but Spencer wasn’t easily convinced.

“I barely touched you,” he said, snapping his book closed and standing up, following you into the bedroom. “Let me see your arm,” he asked, opening the door when you tried to close it behind you.

Spinning on your heel, you shrugged at him, “Not without a warrant,” you told him. Your eyes burned as you begged yourself not to cry at the pain.

Your boyfriend reached out for you again, this time pulling you in by your belt loops, he herded you into the bathroom, holding onto your hips as he beckoned for you to sit on the countertop. The granite was cold even through your jeans, and Spencer took your discomfort as pain as he pulled your shirt off.

You grunted, frowning while he pulled your long sleeve over your head and dropped it in the laundry hamper, “It’s cold,” you grumbled, slouching as Spencer inspected the wound on your forearm. It looked a lot worse now than it had when you left the lab, the burned skin starting to develop a yellowish hue. “I have somewhere to be tonight, you know,” you reminded him.

This would be your second outing with the BAU ladies since you were first introduced to them a few months ago, Garcia had arranged tango lessons, and Emily was meant to be your dance partner. “What did you burn yourself with?” He holds your arm timidly, pinching your wrist between his index and his thumb and eyeing the burn with growing concern.

“Uh,” you hummed, bracing yourself for what is bound to be abject disappointment, “Nitric acid.”

Spencer set your arm down, resting it burnt side up on your thigh while he buried his face in his hands, “Baby,” he said from behind his palms.

When he said it in that tone, it was easily your least favorite nickname. “I didn’t think it was concentrated enough to burn,” you tried to defend yourself, looking down at the obvious mistake you had made. “It must have been mislabeled and no one caught it,” you told him, trying to shrug it off.

Dropping his hands, Spencer resorted to crossing his arms in front of his chest, “A lot of chemicals have been getting mislabeled lately.” It was an accusation, but not toward you, though you tended to be more lenient on lab safety than most of your colleagues.

“I…” You faltered, flexing your fingers and feeling the skin on your arm pull, “Yes, but—”

Spencer shook his head, “No, you have to talk to her.”

The her in question was your grad student, Leslie, who had made a similar mistake with hydrochloric acid last month, also leading to a chemical burn on your arm. You frowned at Spencer, making your expression as pleading as possible in hopes that he’d drop it.

“This can’t keep happening,” Spencer said, “I know you don’t want to make her feel guilty, but maybe she should. Maybe that’s how she learns.”

You furrowed your brows at him, “It wasn’t her fault.” You felt defensive over your lab assistant, knowing that she had asked you to be her thesis advisor made you feel the need to protect her.

He pressed his lips in a thin white line, “It was,” he corrected. “If you don’t say something, I’ll send an email to your boss.”

“Spencer,” you said, shoulders slumped in disappointment and the faint feeling of betrayal.

Raising his eyebrows, Spencer gingerly took your arm back in his hands, “I know that’s your thing around the lab, not wanting to cause trouble. You don’t want to draw attention to yourself, but I need you to take care of yourself, and you can’t do that if you keep being so flippant about these ‘accidents.’”

You knew what he was doing, turning it into something you could do for him instead of something you’d do for yourself. “I’ll talk to her on Monday, and I’ll redo the UV spectroscopy on the nitric acid,” you surrendered, giving yourself the weekend to figure out how to broach the topic.

He set your arm down again, opening the cabinets in the bathroom and shuffling through miscellaneous belongings. Between the two of you, you had quite a remarkable collection of first aid, the basket that Spencer pulled off the shelf was intimidating, “Here, hold your arm over the sink,” he instructed, guiding you gently so he could rinse the burn with saline. “Does that hurt?”

“it’s just cold,” you answered, watching him make sure any debris was flushed from the wound.

His head bobbed, setting down the saline container and moving to coat the wound with a panthenol cream, “Were you wearing your hazardous materials pin?”

Your face warmed at his question. The one time you’d been the root cause of a spill, your boss responded by gifting you an enamel pin with the hazardous materials pin, “I was.”

“Maybe it needs to be bigger,” he proposed, filtering through the bin of first aid supplies and hunting for something specific, reading the labels on everything before he put it on the burn.

The corner of your mouth quirked up when you noticed he was trying to lighten the mood, “Or have lights on it,” you offered, imagining a border of LEDs around the pin.

Spencer hummed, finding silver sulphadiazine to cover the wound with, “Now, there’s an idea.”

You laughed breathily, “I could get it tattooed,” you waggled your eyebrows at him. “It would make a nice tramp stamp,” you told him, watching his gentle fingers apply dressings to your wound, securing them as carefully as he can so your skin doesn’t get irritated.

“But then I’d be the only one to see it,” he countered playfully, inspecting his handiwork.

Conceding, you nodded, “Unless the people in the lab get comfortable with a lot of things really fast.”

Softly, Spencer leaned forward and kissed you, “I want to keep an eye on this tonight,” he whispered against your lips. “If it doesn’t get better by the morning I’m taking you to urgent care,” he told you, kissing you again before gathering the first aid wrappings and putting them in the trash can.

He stepped out for a moment, returning with an old Princeton t-shirt of yours. You gingerly pulled it over your head, making sure not to bump your fresh bandages as you did so, “But what about my dance lessons?”

You hopped off of the countertop to be met by Spencer standing right in front of you, his hands placed gently on your waist before he whispered, “I can teach you to tango perfectly fine in the living room.”