#eventually that all comes crumbling down and he starts opening up more . he starts showing how much he actually does care about everything

[ahalliance]

“i may not entirely trust my assistants but… i won’t lose them” fist pounding floor s2 paranoid yet genuinely caring jon jarchivist sims my beloved you will always be famous

[restinslices]

Believe Me

Gwayne Hightower X Female!Reader

Word Count: 2792

Summary: Gwayne bumps into an old flame and smut ensues (from his pov)

Content Warning: Smut (so minors dni), fingering, handjob, cheating, light hair pulling, light degrading and praising, vaginal sex, public sex (I hate this but we move on😭)

Gwayne Hightower was only human, and as a show of this, he had made plenty of mistakes in his lifetime. “It is not worth the stress to beat yourself over what could have been” he'd always remind himself. “What could've been if you chose the right card, woke up earlier, listened more, aimed a little to the left, ate breakfast…”. 

The list went on and on because humans make mistakes all the time. He had vowed to himself that he would never stress over these mistakes. What good would it do? The mistake was already made. 

That's the thought process he tried to keep as he made his way inside the Sept. He was not afraid of the gods deciding to punish him for the sins he was sure he had committed, or of the building crumbling down and burying him underneath. The current war going on wasn't even on his mind. 

What was on his mind was a singular person. And as he got closer and closer to the room he knew they'd be in, the thick fog covering their face in his memories started to move to the side. 

Further. 

Further. 

His steps began to falter when he finally saw them. When he finally saw you. 

You were sitting on the bench, back to him, candles aplenty in front of you. Just as he thought about turning around and leaving, you took off your cloak and set it next to you, revealing the open back to your dress. 

You were inviting him. Discarding your defenses and showing that you were open to being around him again. Or mayhaps he was delusional. Either way, he found himself sitting on the other side of you soon enough. 

“Is that really a dress appropriate for the Sept?” he tried to joke with you as he lit a candle. If it was a different time, you would've lightly shoved him and said something like “oh fuck off” while laughing. Unfortunately, that time had been long forgotten. 

You looked over at him at once, and he wondered if for a moment you thought all this was a dream. You looked him up and down, and must've realized this was all real. “Gwayne…” how could you say his name in such a delightful way? 

The surprise from your eyes soon fell, and instead it filled with resentment. “Gwayne” you said more lifeless. “Anyone is welcome here. A common whore could come, wearing hardly any clothes and she'd be welcomed”. 

“I'm sure common whores do lots of cumming”. 

You simply rolled your eyes at him and looked in front of you. “A jest, dear friend-”

“We are not friends”. 

He had known it, but fuck did it hurt to hear. It was said so coldly and cruel, like you wanted it to sting. It definitely had, though he wouldn't show it. 

“We have not talked in some time” he said with his eyes still trained on you. How could you sit there and be so beautiful? Even with a scowl and pinched eyebrows, you looked marvelous. “When I heard my sister had summoned you here as well, I admit I was a bit surprised”. 

“Why? Alicent is in need of a friend. And I am her friend”. 

Well you really knew how to rub something in, didn't you? “I tried writing to you-”

“Years too late” 

You snapped, eyes glancing over at him. Okay, mayhaps you were right. Mayhaps he should've wrote to you sooner, but he eventually did! That had to be worth something! “Why are you here?”. 

“I thought anyone was allowed here”

“It is the gods you should be speaking to. Not I”

“It is not the gods I crave” he spoke honestly. You simply scoffed in return and looked away again, causing him to sigh. “I should have wrote to you sooner, but I did eventually. And I am here now-”

“To do your knightly duties” you said dismissively. “Not to speak with me”. 

“I can do both!” his hand found your arm and he pulled you close to him, making your legs press against each other. He could hear how your breath hitched. He could see the way your chest rose and fell as a reaction to his touch. 

His fingers inched closer to your chest. “What are you-” you began to say, but the words got caught in your throat when he wrapped his fingers around the long necklace that fell in the long V neck of your dress, right in between your breasts. 

“You've kept this?”. 

Years ago, Gwayne gifted you a necklace with a large green pendant, and while the chain was completely different, the pendant was still the same. “Did the chain break?”. 

You shook your head. “No. My husband gave me a new chain. Said gold fit better”. 

He frowned. 

Your husband. Some boring guy with brown hair, brown eyes, patches in his beard and a voice that was far too high for a man. He had no real talents or skill, besides money and luck. That's how he landed you after all. 

“It is best for both of us that you do your praying and then leave. I imagine I will not be ready to leave anytime soon”. 

The moment his hand fell from your arm, he felt cold. He forced himself to look away from you and focus on the candle in front of him. So what was he to do now? Just let you go? Go off to war and accept that he'd likely never see you again? Accept you'd hate him forever?

“No” he answered himself out loud. “No. I am to just accept that your husband messed with a gift I gave you?”. 

“I beg your pardon?” You asked in disbelief. “That is what you are focusing on? That your gift was ruined?” You scoffed again and rubbed your temples. “Selfish as always. Nevermind to ask how I feel or how I have been. No. It is just stupid jokes and being offended. Did my gift put a dent in your pocket? Here then!”. You unclipped the necklace, grabbed his hand and shoved the necklace on his palm. “Take it!”. 

His chuckle afterwards was filled with bitterness. Here he was, trying to patch things up, and you kept making it difficult. “This resentment you hold towards me is ridiculous. I took too long to write to you after your marriage, but I'm here now. And this-” he set the necklace on the table. “This is a gift I gave to you”. 

“My husband gives me plenty of gifts. I do not need anything from you”. 

As if his gifts were anything special. Probably cheap and terrible material. You deserved more than that. You deserved more than some husband that probably couldn't even make you laugh the way Gwayne had. 

“Husband this. Husband that. Does shoving him in my face excite you?”. Maybe he had no right to be angry, but he was anyway. 

“I wouldn't be able to if you vied for my hand when you had the chance!” You snapped. For once, Gwayne had no response. No witty comeback or complaint. He just watched you as you realized what you said. You huffed, grabbed your cloak and got to your feet. “Good day Gwayne”. 

You managed to make it a few feet away before he finally spoke. “I should have”. Regret had gnawed at him for years now. He let you slip away. Why? Because he wasn't sure he could be committed. Did he love you? Yes. Was he a young man that wasn't fond of becoming a husband and a father? Also yes. 

“You have to understand,” he began as he rose to his feet. “Marriage was not something I wanted at the time”. 

“And you think I did?” You asked in disbelief. “Marriage was not something I wanted either. It was forced upon me. Marriage terrified me, but I knew that if I was married to you, marriage wouldn't be that bad. You were my best friend and lover. And what did you do, Gwayne?”. He couldn't make the answer leave his lips. The words felt like they were stuck in his throat and refused to go anywhere. “You left me” you answered for him. “And once I was married, you avoided me. Then years later you decided you wanted to speak again. What were you too busy doing? Drinking and fucking whores?”. 

That made him laugh. Drinking? Maybe a little. Fucking whores? It's not like he truly wanted to. It made time pass and got an orgasm out the way, but he didn't want painted whores. He wanted you to be under him. He wanted to feel your soft skin on his fingers. He wanted to hear his name pass your sweet lips over and over again until that was all he heard. 

“I made mistakes-”

“Mistakes?!”

“I made terrible choices” he corrected. “Awful ones. But you and I both know that I have always wanted and will always want you”. Those words seem to catch you off guard, which he assumed because you didn't push him away when his hands found their way to your hips. 

His face inched closer and closer to yours until your lips just barely brushed against each other. Unbeknownst to the both of you, your hearts beat as one in that moment. Both hearts erratic but somehow managing to be erratic together. 

“I want you desperately. And I know you want me…”. 

The remaining bit of space was broken and your lips finally met. Your lips responded to each other immediately and your arms wrapped around his neck. Finally… after so long you both were able to taste each other again. 

Reality came crashing down faster than he wanted it to. 

You shoved him away, making him stumble. You breathed heavily and wiped at your lips. “Won't change what happened” he said to your displeasure. 

“You are selfish” you spoke through gritted teeth. “You are an asshole” you shoved him again. “And a liar” another shove. 

Each insult you gave was followed by shove, and instead of feeling insulted, he felt something else. 

Desire. 

That desire is what led to him grabbing you, switching your positions and pushing you onto the table where no candles were. 

Your expression was full of shock, but not disgust or fear. Good. He never wanted to frighten you. What frightened him a little bit though, was his growing erection. Something that made no sense since all you had done recently was insult him. Gods, he was way more desperate than he realized. 

“Get all your insults out” he said as his thumb traced your lower lip, “tell me how much you hate me”. 

A request you had no problem fulfilling. 

“You are a vile man. Seducing a married woman in a Sept. Is there a line you're not willing to cross?”. 

There it was. Just like that. 

He began leaving open mouth kisses down your neck, eagerly awaiting what you'd say next. 

“You are a defiler full of sin”

“I am, aren't I?”. He held you in place as he bit and sucked at a particular spot on your neck, and a small smirk formed on his face when he heard you moan in response. “It seems you enjoy my sins” he taunted. 

“I hate you. No. I despise you. Even that word can't describe how I feel for you”. 

Gwayne untied your dress strap and unbuttoned the buttons in the front, allowing him to free your breasts. 

“I loathe you”. 

“I'm sure” his words dripped in sarcasm. Loathe him yet you allow him to undress you. Loathe him, yet you allowed him to fondle your breasts, then lick and suck at one of your nipples. That's how your little game continued. You'd throw insults at him in between your gasps, and he'd lick and suck harder at each breast, showing them both proper attention. His erection pressed against his trousers, it becoming almost painful. 

You lifted your leg up in response to him twisting your nipple, and your knee brushed right against his erection. He moaned around your breast before he even realized what had happened. His own eagerness being exposed only dawned on him when he felt your palm fully press against him. 

Your other hand pulled his head back by his hair, causing a sharp but welcomed pain to burn at his roots. “I always knew you were pathetic Gwayne, but this?”, a soft breath slipped past his lips when you pressed harder against him. “You like when I insult you?”. He nodded. No point in lying. Still though, he didn't just wanna hand you all the power in your game. 

He hiked the bottom of your dress up and kept eye contact with you as his fingers pushed your undergarments to the side and made contact with your soaked cunt for the first time tonight. He watched you try to keep a stone face, but you couldn't hide the sharp inhale you did. “Seems like you've enjoyed our little game too. What does that say about you?”. 

“What does it say about you that you like being called pathetic?”. 

Gwayne chuckled. He looked you over, watching as you tried not to react to his fingers sliding in between your folds. “You're marvelous…” he said almost as if in a dream. 

You yanked on his hair again and pushed his trousers down, freeing his erection. “Is this when I say you're disgusting?” You taunted. Your hand wrapped around him and shamefully he almost came from that minor touch alone. 

“If it pleases you”. 

His middle and ring finger slowly but surely made their way inside you, all while he whispered praises in your ear. 

“You're so pretty like this”

“You're taking my fingers so well”

“Open up for me. Just like that. Good girl”. 

Your head fell on his shoulder and his fell on yours. The Sept filled with both of your noises as you both continued to pleasure each other with your hands. It was clear that that wouldn't be enough. The question was just who would bend first. 

“I've got you” he whispered before placing a gentle kiss under your ear. You lifted your head off his shoulder to meet his eyes, and while there was still lust behind them, there was clearly something more. 

Longing. 

“Do you really?” You asked. 

He answered at once, “yes. I swear to you on all the gods in every religion that I'm never leaving you again”. 

You swiped at his hands and pulled him closer to you until his tip was lined up with your entrance. “And what about my husband?”. 

Damn your husband. He'd cause an “accident” to happen if he had to. He wouldn't let a man like him keep him away from the one person who truly wanted in this whole world. “I will deal with your husband and I swear you will never be able to get rid of me. Do you believe me?”. 

He asked his question as he began to push inside you. Your answer got stuck in your throat, so instead you nodded in response. Your nod wasn't enough for him, but he'd address that later. For now, he kept whispering encouraging words to you to soothe the stretching he knew you'd feel. He kept telling you that he had you, that you were okay, that you were safe with him and always would be. 

When you finally seemed adjusted, he spoke again. “Do you believe me?”. You nodded. “Out loud”. 

“I believe you”. 

That was all he needed hear. Once he got confirmation, his lips found yours and he moved inside you. Was this an all around terrible idea? Absolutely. Was there a chance of getting caught? Yes. But neither of you could care less about that. How could that possibly be at the forefront of your minds when you were finally feeling each other in the way you both craved?

You both enjoyed each other, ultimately hitting your peaks while you were still connected, mouths swallowing each sound the other made, and foreheads pressed against each other so you could catch your breath. 

His hands cupped your face and he pressed a softer kiss to your lips. Of course there was still that sexual desire there, but he wanted more than to just fuck and be rid of you. He wanted to hold you forever. He wanted to tell you about his tales of knighthood over dinner, and hold your hand as you went on walks in the garden. 

“I swear-”

“I believe you”. 

You believed him. That was all he needed. 

For you to believe him and for you to give him another chance.

Bitch I hate this shit but I haven’t posted in awhile soooooo here we are😭😭. Also the way I forgot about that necklace-

[theemporium]

yes lando comfort fic where maybe you weren’t at qatar but after yesterday took the first flight there. and it’s just full of hugs, kisses, massages, praise, pep talks. He’s got his head on your chest or in your lap :(

my heart actually breaks for the boy :(

.

The second you saw the qualifying results, you knew you had to fly out. 

You hadn’t originally planned to. You were swamped with classes and lectures and work, and after taking time off to travel to Singapore and Japan with him, you couldn’t exactly afford to take more time off for Qatar as well. 

And Lando had been understanding. To be honest, he was just happy you had taken time out to join him on two race weekends that turned out pretty damn well in respect to the start of the season. And he knew no matter what he said about compensating for your time off work, you wanted to go back before you eventually flew out to join him in the last stint of races. 

But that was before the shit-show of the Qatar Grand Prix weekend started. 

You hadn’t been able to talk to him earlier that day, too late running for work that a simple reply to his good morning message was the only thing you could send. Nor did you have the chance to keep up with the practice session. However, when you opened your phone after walking out of work to see the qualifying results, you didn’t even hesitate. 

You had played it all out perfectly, getting onto the next plane out to Qatar whilst messaging your boss that you had a stomach bug and couldn’t come in until you stopped vomiting. You had shared a few messages here and there with Lando, but he didn’t seem all too eager to talk to you, let alone anyone after the messy qualifying session. 

You didn’t arrive at the paddock until the sprint had already started, and it only went downhill from there. You thought the McLaren front row lock out would have brought up morale, but you were wrong. 

It was shit. You knew the second he crossed the line in P3 that he wasn’t going to be happy with himself. You knew it, and yet, the second his radio came through confirming as such, your heart only broke more. 

You knew your boy. You knew he would be keeping it all in. But you knew no matter what, he wouldn’t break in front of everyone else. He would pat Oscar on the back and he would play the good teammate and happy chap as best he could to the media. He would play his part. 

Until he said five words that truly shattered your heart.

“Just a lack of talent.”

The second he was done with interviews, he just wanted to be left alone. He didn’t want to listen to whatever his team were saying, he didn’t want to deal with the debrief and strategy planning for tomorrow’s race. He just wanted to be fucking alone so he could stop pretending. 

He was almost annoyed when he saw his driver room door was open, ready to snap at whoever it was lingering inside his room. But then he was standing at the doorway and he saw you in the room, a sad smile on your face as you waited for him, and every resolve within him crumbled in seconds. 

The door was slammed shut and he was barrelling towards you before you could even open your mouth. His arms locked around your waist, his face was nuzzled into the crook of your neck and he sunk into your embrace, almost like it was a sigh of relief. 

“I’m so proud of you,” you whispered to him, clinging onto him tightly.

And then, he just sobbed.

You didn’t say anything as he cried in your arms, simply holding him and hugging him and doing your best to sway back and forth as his body wracked with sobs. And when he couldn’t keep himself standing anymore, you sat down on the couch with his head buried in your lap as you slowly wiped away the tears streaming down his face, hot and flushed and embarrassed but he didn’t care about his mask when he was with you.

“I’m not good enough,” he whispered, his voice raspy from all the crying.

You blanched. “Lando—”

“Five fucking seasons,” he murmured, his glossy eyes looking anywhere but you, because he knew he would start crying again if he looked at you and he was far too tired for that. “I have been doing this for five seasons and everyone keeps fucking expecting that I get a win and it’s not happened—”

“Lando,” you tried again, but he continued.

“He’s a fucking rookie,” Lando whispered in disbelief. “I just….this is just what they need. This is what they need to say that I’m done, that I’m fucking useless, that I don’t deserve my seat and I’m just some waste of fucking space that can’t even win a fucking race and—”

“Hey,” you snapped enough to finally gain his attention. “Look at me.”

He shook his head.

“Lando,” you said in a softer voice as your palm cupped his cheek, gently turning his head until he was looking up at you. “Look at me.” 

“I’m not good enough to be here,” he whispered in a broken voice. “I’m not as good as they say I am. As they expected me to be.”

“That’s bullshit and we both know it,” you whispered back, shaking your head as you took in his glossy eyes and pink cheeks.

Lando started shaking his head again, but you continued. 

“Lando Norris, you are one of the most talented and skilled drivers in this sport,” you said to him. “One weekend does not define you, nor does it take away from all your achievements.”

“I made stupid mistakes—” He started again.

“And everyone does,” you countered. “Everyone makes mistakes, Lando. That’s what makes us human, but that does not make us not good enough or untaleneted.”

He didn’t say anything. 

“Your day will come,” you said as your thumb gently stroked the apple of his cheek. “And it will be fucking amazing. And I can’t wait to be standing there, watching you on that top step as you hit that stupid champagne bottle and try not to break your trophy. And it will be the first of many.”

He let out a small huff of amusement. 

“You are more than enough, Lando, and I’m so proud of you,” you whispered to him, your eyes finding his so he could see the sincerity in your voice and words. “And you’re enough whether you have a million race wins or none. You are enough just the way you are.”

Lando sniffled, giving you a wet smile—and it wasn’t much, but it was a step forward. 

“I love you,” you whispered with a soft smile. “And I’ll love you no matter what.”

“I love you too,” he whispered back as he nuzzled himself further into your lap. “Thank you for coming.”

“Always, baby,” you grinned. “I’m always gonna be here for you.”

“Promise?” 

Your heart almost broke with how vulnerable he sounded. 

“Promise.” 

.

[asliceofzosan]

sanji has always known he loved zoro.

subconsciously.

it's hidden in the steps he takes to maneuver around the sleeping marimo on the deck. it's written in the recipes he creates to account for the amount of nutrients he needs for his frankly ridiculous workout routine. it's embedded so deeply in the way he fights, back to back, one leg swinging in perfect synergy with zoro's blade. how he stands on his blind side more often on the field. but stands on his good side when they have a conversation.

so the words "i love you" come naturally to him. it's like he was always meant to say it to zoro. his presence was an appetizer. his words, the entreé. his actions, a delectable dessert that even his sweets-hating boyfriend craves for after a long day.

but sanji has never heard those three little words from zoro. not even once.

and sure, it's not like he goes around saying i love you to every beautiful lady he meets. he knows the gravity of such words. he knows how someone saying it can affect you in ways that can barely be comprehended by the human mind. it stirs something within ourselves that awakens the age old yearning to be cherished. to be held.

to be worth something to someone.

sanji can remember the rare times someone said i love you to him. once held in his mother's arms in a tender embrace that weakens with each passing second, it was whispered against his temple, frail fingers combing through his hair, and he cries without knowing that it would be the last time he hears those words for a very long time. once shaking in zeff's arms as the nightmares roar louder in his head than the storm that rattled the windows of the newly opened baratie, the older man choosing to be gentle with the child he willingly gave everything to in order to survive.

he's never heard it from someone who loved him like a partner. loved him like an equal. loved him in ways lovers are supposed to love each other.

maybe it's because he never had one of those until zoro. for the longest time, he survived on fairy tales and myths and legends. oral tradition passed down through generations of every family he encounters on their adventures out at sea. and though his life as a prince was nothing like the pictures painted in children's books, he always longed for a princess of his own. someone he could save from the proverbial tower guarded by a fearsome dragon.

he wanted someone to love him like a hero. their hero. someone who admires him for all the things he desperately projects for others to see him as worth keeping around.

zoro isn't a princess by any means. he's honestly so much more like the dragon. but also not. fearsome as he is fearful. immensely strong as he is soft hearted. a steady pillar as he is the first to crumble at sanji's touch.

and zoro never admired him like a hero. never cared about the best foot forward sanji took care to show others. in fact, he saw right through him from the very moment they met. it irritated sanji to no end how someone like that stupid marimo could read him like an open book. he took care to make sure the pages of his story that he deems undesirable were sealed away under lock and key. no one needed to know the plot points that brought him where he is. he needs to be the hero. he needs to be seen as the hero in his story.

but who exactly was he trying to save?

what kind of hero has no one to save?

it took several years for him to realize that the person he needed to save was himself. and zoro knew that.

of course he fucking did.

he never mollycoddled him. never softened the blow. always blunt and direct with him. it drove sanji up the wall once with how little tact he had. eventually, he actually started to appreciate how zoro never once sugarcoated anything with him. if he was upset, he'd show it. if he was happy, it would shine in his gaze clear as day.

and if he was in love?

well.

sanji can admit it took him much longer to realize that the love he felt for zoro was not only reciprocated but was so much deeper than what three little words could possibly convey.

there's a permanent space for zoro next to sanji, right in front of the sink, when dinner is over and the soapy water goes up to his elbows. the windows are always open in the crow's nest when sanji's watch comes right after zoro's, just enough for the smoke to escape but the smell to linger. the wordless nod zoro gives him when sanji is combing through marketplaces and dragged him along to be his pack mule. the strategically placed shoulder for him to jump off of when sanji needs to launch himself at an oncoming enemy.

the 2am fights that devolve into holding each other and apologizing without saying any words at all.

the way zoro carries him back to his bunk when he's fallen asleep in the galley writing recipes down. the kiss to his forehead. the hand that runs through his hair.

and here sanji thought his actions were the sweet dessert. for in the dead of night, when no one is watching, zoro's devotion is blinding. zoro's love shines like a beacon in a dark, stormy night.

the dragon perched on the roof of the tower, breathing fire for the lost prince to find his way home.

so sanji lets zoro comb through the pages of his story that he doesn't tell anyone else. he lets zoro guide his hand to flip to the blank pages, allows him to convince him that the parts of his story that mattered are the ones written by his own hand. and if the pages are soon filled with endless adventures of the prince and his swordsman, no one else will really understand it.

no one except zoro.

so yes. sanji always knew he loved zoro and that zoro loved him back just as fiercely or maybe even more.

even if he never heard those three little words.

what sanji doesn't know, is that when zoro is sure he is fast asleep, zoro whispers those words against sanji's ear. like a revenant prayer to a god. zoro doesn't believe in god.

but he believes in sanji. he always did.

[akimiiyo]

-> KISSES

⌗synopsis : how genshin men kiss.

⌗characters : diluc, kaeya, albedo, zhongli, childe, baizhu, xiao, thoma, ayato, heizou, wanderer, kazuha, tighnari, cyno, alhaitham, kaveh, neuvillette, lyney, dainsleif, dottore, pantalone, capitano, pierro.

⌗cw : gn!reader, lowercase intended, probably ooc.

his kisses are full of love, but mostly happen behind closed doors. he’s often busy and caught up in his own duties, left craving for your affection all day long before he can come back home to you where he’ll finally get to hold you in his arms and shower you with the love that has been building up over the hours. still, when you’re out together, he refrains from doing anything more than walking hand in hand or letting you link your arm around his. perhaps a quick peck on the cheek here and there, but that’s how far he’ll go when you’re in public. he thinks that everything other than that is too intimate to be done in front of others. not to worry though, in private, he’ll be sure to show you how much he cherishes you.

diluc, ayato, alhaitham, neuvillette, pantalone, pierro.

his kisses are playful and teasing. he has always loved kissing you, no matter if it is a fleeting kiss or a passionate one, he firmly believes your soft lips were made for his. although your kisses are definitely considered a blissful experience for him, what he really adores is your expression after you pull apart. he simply can’t get enough of the small glint in your eyes and the faint hue on your cheeks. he takes it upon himself to kiss you when you least expect it to enhance such reaction. at work? he’ll swiftly turn you around and plant his lips on yours. out with friends? he can’t go on without getting a small peck from his darling. minding your own business? he’ll interrupt your train of thoughts by quickly placing his lips against yours. he’ll leave you wanting for more as he walks away with that usual mischievous smile of his, acting as nothing ever happened.

kaeya, childe, heizou, cyno, kaveh, lyney.

his kisses are sweet and calm. he’s simply a peaceful soul whose current wish is to make you feel as if you were the most important being in the entire world and it’s working. the delicate and gentle way he touches you has your cheeks flaring up, the way he looks at you with such fondness has your heart racing while his kisses make you feel as if you’re floating above the clouds. he’s truly a gentleman at heart, kissing the back of your hand every time you go out or your forehead to reassure you wherever you need him to. it also doesn’t matter how long you’ve been together, he’ll always look up at you before asking for permission to kiss you, only looking out for your own comfort. he would never miss his chance of kissing you as it’s the fastest way to calm him down no matter what.

albedo, zhongli, baizhu, thoma, kazuha, tighnari.

his kisses are hesitant and rare. this poor man is too unfamiliar with affection, especially physical, to be open about his feelings. he loves you dearly, maybe way more than he had first thought when he had started to fall for you, but it’s simply too complicated for him to show you all that and he hates himself for it. he wishes he could be more forward with making his feelings for you clear, however, he is scared that everything will come crumbling down as soon as he gets too used to your warmth. nonetheless, he is genuinely convinced that you deserve everything and more, so he musters up the courage to actually reciprocate your display of affection, and he tries to pour all of his deeply felt emotions into it too. give the scarred man some time, he’ll eventually cave in to your touch.

xiao, wanderer, dainsleif, dottore, capitano.

⌗a/n : can you tell this is my first time writing smth like this?? LMAOO pls tell me if this is cringe pls pls pls 😞 also, im sorry if this makes no sense, i wrote this at 1am 🙏🏻 do tell if i made any spelling mistakes tho!!

want to read more? take a look at my masterlist!

©2023 akimiiyo. do not repost, translate, plagiarise, or modify in any way, shape or form.

[7ndipity]

You Want To Break Up Due To Insecurities

Tae x Plus Size Reader

Summary: You try to break up with Tae because you're worried that you don’t deserve him, but he won't let you go without a fight.

Warnings: angst, mentions of insecurities and self worth issues, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to @sporadicarcadebanana for this request! I’m not entirely happy with how this one turned out tbh, but I didn't want to leave you waiting too long. I’m sorry if it’s not what you wanted.💜

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

You did your best to try and ignore your phone ringing for what felt like the twentieth time that hour, knees pulled up to your chest as you tried to focus on the show you were watching as a distraction, but you couldn’t help your eye being drawn to Tae’s name popping up on the screen over and over. The

tears had finally stopped, but the lingering sting was still there, both in your eyes and chest.

You knew it was a shitty move to tell him that you wanted to end things over text, but you were afraid that if you had tried to say everything you were thinking face to face, you would fold immediately, like you always did when it came to him.

It was almost strange how you could both love and hate the hold that he had over you, the way he had managed to climb over all your walls that you’d built up, rather than knocking them down, and reach out to you from the inside and make you feel so safe and undered.

But with those feelings also came deep rooted fears and insecurities. As you spent more time together, you couldn’t help noticing the differences between the two of you, especially physically. Although he never seemed to mind it (frankly it seemed to be quite the opposite, if the way he always seemed to have his hands on you in some way or other was any indication), you could never shake the growing sense of unease that his devotion would only go so far, that eventually he would realize that you weren’t enough and he would leave. So, you’d decided to skip the waiting game and beat him to the punch.

A sudden knock at the door made you jump, startling you out of your thoughts.

“Y/n?” You shut your eyes at the sound of Tae’s voice, as if that would help block him out. “Y/n, please talk to me.”

“Go home, Tae.” You called through the door.

“No! We need to talk about this, I don’t understand what’s happening.” He said, his voice sounded hoarse, as if he’d been crying too. “Please, y/n, just talk to me.”

You let your forehead rest against the door as you took a deep breath. You knew he was right, he deserved a better explanation than this.

“What the hell is this?” He asked as you opened the door, holding his phone out for you to see the text displayed.

“I thought the message made it pretty clear. I think it would be for the best if we broke up.” You said, trying to sound unfazed, but the words had a hollow cadence to your ears.

“But why?” He demanded.

You sighed, looking anywhere but him. “It just won't work, our lives are too different. We’re too different.”

“What do you mean different?” He asked, finally taking a good look at you, noticing the puffiness around your eyes. “Have you been crying?” He reached out for you, immediately concerned. “Baby-”

“Don’t.” You pulled back, trying to ignore how your voice caught in your throat. “You deserve someone better, someone beautiful-”

“You’re beautiful.” He stated, staring at you, completely bewildered.

You scoffed, almost out of reflex.

“You are!” He said, the fire coming back to his eyes. “Is that what this is about? You think you’re not good enough or something? Because let me tell you right now, nothing could be farther from the truth.

“But, I-”

“No! I won’t let you talk badly about yourself. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I will fight every day to show you that.”

Your eyes started to mist over with new tears as he spoke, wanting to believe him, but unableto shake your own fear.

Seeing you starting to crumble, he pulled you against him in a crushing embrace, holding you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

“Let me prove it to you, let me prove myself to you.” Tae said, pleading with his eyes. “If you still want to break up, I’ll hear you out, but don’t let it be because of this. Please.”

“Okay.” You whispered.

He sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “Thank you.”

[mr-crawlings-wife]

No Nut November-!!

𝕃𝔼𝔸𝕊𝕋 𝕋𝕆 𝕄𝕆𝕊𝕋 𝕃𝕀𝕂𝔼𝕃𝕐 𝕋𝕆 𝕎𝕀ℕ-!!

𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚜. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢-- 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍.

🄲🄷🄰🅁🄰🄲🅃🄴🅁🅂: Ellis Twilight from IkeVil, this was supposed to be multi character but I got carried away.

🅆🄰🅁🄽🄸🄽🄶🅂: nsfw, content minors dni or bald Jude is coming for you, oversimtulation, slight non consent vibes, slight mention of overworking, squirting, semi public sex, possibly extremely ooc.

*･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･*

🄻🄴🄰🅂🅃 🄻🄸🄺🄴🄻🅈 🅃🄾 🅆🄸🄽: 1-2 weeks.

◡̈🅴🅻🅻🅸🆂 🆃🆆🅸🅻🅸🅶🅷🆃:

The thing about him is... He's a person who who enjoys pleasing you and keeping you happy. Making you feel joy, satisfaction and serenity as much as possible is what he most aims for.

So... It wouldn't necessarily be difficult for him. It would be you who would make the challenge difficult. Because the moment you start showing signs of being needy is when his resolve starts to crumble and he gets hit with the desire to please you. To stop seeing you frown and press your thighs together, trying to desperately to get enough friction. To stop hearing your cries of disappointment and dissatisfaction from behind your door cause your fingers just aren't thick or long enough to reach those oh so sensitive spots deep within you, something only he can reach. He just wants to break down this door, hold you and glue himself in between your thighs.

In another scenario where he's thinking about just how happy you would be, just how bright you'd smile after a full month of being deprived of pleasure. Where he's considering the big reward on the long run, he'd still lose.

Because since you guys are all doing this challenge together, Jude would try to drown himself in work as a distraction to make himself stop thinking about his cute little lover. Which would lead to him taking a lot more of the load than normal, in turn lessening the load for Ellis. Allowing him more free time.

And what does this goofy little goober do with his free time? Well he spends it with you. And he's not that much of a patient fellow.

Which would eventually lead to you being propped up against the wall in your balcony, legs hung over his shoulders, his face smushed into your little pussy, his nose pressed up against your clit, creating stimulations that tether on the edge of pleasurable and painful, him creating scandalous wet sounds, slurping up all your joices like a starved man, sucking on your puffy folds, your toes curling, the coil in your lower stomach tightening impossibly, eyes rolling back, as you beg him to slow down and yet keep grinding your cunny against his drenched face.

All care for public decency has lapsed through him. As you whimper, mention that what if someone sees- He chuckles, causing vibrations across your little flower, sending chills that run up your spine and shoves you over the edge, a clear liquid spilling all over. Him pulling away to open his mouth and catch all of it, pulling apart your puffy lips and rubbing your little nub to draw out the high as long as possible. He looks so pleased. So happy to finally have relieved you of the pain he was foolish enough to put you through for one and a half weeks!

"One... " he brings his face closer to your cunny, licking up the access juices dripping from it, the stream now weaker than before. "One ... Muh-ore! " he gasps, his voice coming out muffled as he encloses his mouth around your nub and sucks it into his mouth. And you're too dumb right now to even respond, all that come out are incoherent words and high pitched noises.

*･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･*

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍... 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚞𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜...

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞... :)

[skrunklebink]

Liar.

Secrets are spilled, ones you never wished for Isaac to know.

(Kind of angst?? Idk lol)

Isaac Rhoades x Mythic! Reader

You never told Isaac what happened before he found you, and he never asked. It was a silent understanding between the both of you, a trust neither one of you had ever experienced. He knew it pained you, he knew you were still plagued by an unshared history he wished he could know. But still, he never asked.

Life changed when you met Isaac. After so many years of solitude, you finally found a place to call home, a safe haven, a life that felt worth living. You knew the risks of staying with him, and Isaac knew them too. But despite it all, you couldn’t let him go. You couldn’t leave the man that gave you a reason to live, something to fight for. So you stayed. You stayed in the estate, working on cases and finally living.

It started tame, with him only giving you simple tasks with small clients to keep you out of harm's way, but he soon came to realise you were ready for more, ready to make a difference. So he gave you bigger cases, more complex cases he knew you could handle. Never once did he doubt you, and the walls he created to keep himself safe were slowly crumbling. He never saw it coming. How could he, when he trusted you so deeply?

Even despite his best efforts, the conversation would come up eventually. The video he showed you in his office, the information that got his family slaughtered, it all came back to that. When Isaac caught word of a case involving the supposed “monsters” lurking in our world, he took it up without another thought. He didn’t tell you at first, unsure how you would receive the news. But he cracked eventually.

“I want to help.” You said, not even thinking before you spoke.

He initially brushed you off, knowing that this case would put both of your lives on the line, but you persisted. He tried to keep you away, but deep down, he knew that he couldn’t stop you, no matter what he did to persuade you.

It was this chain of events that led you to the present moment, the two of you sat at a grand table in your clients home. For the most part, you stayed silent, listening, observing. An unease settled in your stomach, one you couldn’t understand. You looked at the man, “Kaz” he called himself. You couldn’t shake the nausea building within you, a horrible feeling that you recognised the client sat, arms crossed, in front of you. He goes quiet for a moment, before turning his attention to you, then back to Isaac.

He spoke, his voice deep and gravelly as he did so,

“Tell me Isaac, do you often go around picking strays off the street?”

For a moment, Isaac’s resolve faltered, when had he told the man he found you on the street?

”What are you talking about?” He retorted, keeping his tone calm, despite the overwhelming feeling of uncertainty slowly growing within him.

Kaz laughs, a sinister and vile laugh.

“Did you never once feel the need to look into their past, have you ever wondered who they are?”

That nausea within you only grew, as it was then you realised this man knew who you were, what you were, and it made you want to puke. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out except a shaky breath, one you didn’t even know you were holding.

Isaac quickly speaks again.

“Of course I did.” His voice became more agitated. You had heard this many times before, he spoke like this when he was conflicted.

“Is that so?” He replies. He goes quiet for a moment before speaking again.

“So I assume you know they single handedly fought off and killed six men with nothing but their bare hands?”

There is was. The truth you had been running from for so long.

The room went silent. All that could be heard was the sound of the rain tapping gently against the grand windows.

You look at Kaz, an evil smile plastered across his face, before you slowly look towards Isaac, who was also staring at the man with the same confusion.

”The hell are you talking about?” Isaac speaks, his voice almost a whisper.

“What the hell is he talking about Y/N?”

You freeze, eyes wide. You force yourself to say something, anything.

“I don’t…I..”

You try so hard to form a coherent sentence, but your voice is shaky.

Kaz laughs again, this time, he sounded more amused, a sick, twisted kind of amusement.

“Turns out your little pet isn’t so innocent after all. In fact, it seems they’re barely human. I don’t know what they’ve told you Isaac, but the truth is that the day you found them in that alley, they were being followed by hunters. Hunters that only chase the most demonic creatures roaming this earth.”

Before another thought can cross your mind, you shoot up from your seat, hands gripping the linen cloth of the table like a lifeline. Now, there was no point in hiding what you were, not now that the only person you wanted to hide it from knew. You felt so many things at once it made it hard to think. Anger, hate, fear, they were all tangled in your mind like a dense fog and you couldn’t see clearly.

(Ight gang I cba to finish this, but hey, first fanfic ever written! This isn’t proofread and was made pretty quickly, so I apologise for any mistakes. Maybe once I get some steam back I’ll find the motivation to finish it, but for now, enjoy.)

[munsonomenon]

⛧☾༺’causal’༻☽⛧

Chapter 1: The prologue

𖤐 paring: rockstar! eddie x fem reader

𖤐 contains: angst, slow burn, love triangle

𖤐 word count: 530

𖤐 warnings: allusions to smut ! mdni !

After all but a few of your friends have moved states to attend prestigious universities and big-time office jobs you decide to take a simpler start to your early twenties. You take on a part-time job at the newly opened record shop in your small hometown of Hawkins, Indiana. You figured your admiration of music and the easy cash would make this chapter of your life a breeze, but you never expected the whirlwind of what was to come- and its name was Eddie Munson.

Eddie was never known for much more than being the local “Freak”—a tagline he had been branded with during his teenage years. Most people were put off by his dark exterior, intense music, and fantasy worlds he often surrounded himself with to avoid his own loneliness. The worst fantasy he had encapsulated himself into was the one and only, Chrissy Cunningham.

You never would’ve thought Eddie was the type to fall victim to the high of the chase for the queen of Hawkins High. It didn’t take long after graduation for him to realize the only string tying the pair together was the cheap deals she could score on whatever substances he had in stock at the time, causing him to revert into his shell of loneliness, avoiding all relationships he had built up until that point. The most fragile one of all being you.

You had eventually accepted that the spark that that had just started to burn between the both of you had completely dwindled out. That was until just days after your first shift at your new job, you turn to greet a familiar curl-topped silhouette. Every nearly buried feeling you had for him quickly rose back up to the surface. Everything soon after was a blur. Most nights were spent entangled in each other’s sheets, or the back of his van.

Eddie was too afraid to admit he was attached to the rekindled flame, while you were already too far gone- completely engulfed in the flames he had ignited in your chest with every moment you spent together. Unexpectedly, with an eerily similar sense of Deja Vu everything you shared came crumbling down again with the overnight success corroded coffin was gifted.

Eddie was completely overwhelmed by the newly acquired popularity that went straight to his ego. Interviews, large crowds of every girl that had ever avoided him in high school, a permanent residency at the hideout, and his most proud achievement- a big-name record label signing his childhood dream into fruition. Eddie decided that it would be best for the two of you to remain casual so he could explore all facets of his new life.

With your ever-growing resentment contained between yourself and your best friend Robin, Eddie finally had everything he had ever wanted, is at least what he thought. Until the night before Halloween in the crowd of one of his shows, Eddie spots you being a little too friendly with the one guy everyone knew was in love with you, except for yourself- Steve Harrington.

You never expected the whirlwind that was Eddie Munson, but you were even less prepared for the consequences of your captivation.

༺ the end.

chapter II: ‘call it what you want’

coming: tomorrow!

authors note: if you’ve made it this far- thank you for reading! this is my first ever published work so please let me know what you think! i have so much planned and i cannot wait to continue to share these two’s very messy love story with you all!

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Where, oh, where could Aemond be? Hmmm.... Thank you all for the love you show me! I will be trying to write an Aemond POV for the wedding night when i have the time <3 as always, enjoy!

Chapter 56: Routine

That evening, you had waited for Aemond’s return, and yet he did not come. And so you went to bed, and slept, holding the letter from your family tightly in your hand under the pillow as you thought of your fathers offering.

Sleep came to you far quicker than it had the days before, and you found yourself waking in the early morning to the sound of the maids entering your chambers with food for you to break your fast.

That morning you had not slept through their sounds, and instead rose with them.

And so a routine began.

You ate at the table, the book nowhere to be seen, an odd sting of disappointment coursing through you at the absence of its faded red cover.

You finished your breakfast quietly as the maids had made your bed, and tidied the space. You allowed them to dress you in a deep red gown, and brush your hair, but as they moved to braid it in the same, simple, two style braid, you stopped them with a raised hand. 

“I wish for you to braid my hair properly.” You had spoken to them, before looking straight ahead. 

Their hands had faltered in their movement, before beginning to braid more hair than usual, and you felt satisfaction sink in at the tiniest piece of power you had been given since arriving back in Kings Landing. 

You sat in the quiet as the two girls braided your hair in a style that was far more familiar to you than the bland braids that your husband wore.

You felt more like yourself. 

They had twisted the thick strands over each other, winding them up at the back of your head, to then let them fall down your back with the remaining hair that had not been braided. There was comfort in the way the braids felt tight on your head. Comfort in their familiarity and the way it gave you strength. 

Comfort in knowing this was the one thing they couldn't take away from you.

When the braids were finished, the girls had left the chambers with a soft bow. You let a hand come to touch at the back of your head. It reminded you of your mother.

You stood, pushing out your chair before making your way across the room. Your eyes looked to the side table, where the wine and decanter usually sat. Books were piled atop the table near the wine, and on the very top of the pile was your book. 

You moved across the room swiftly, picking up the faded red book, letting your fingers rub against the soft, worn cover before tucking it against your chest, feeling its cold, hard cover dig into the flesh of your breasts, then removing yourself from the chambers. 

You pulled open the chamber doors with one hand, the other clutching the book, and made your way down to the Godswood to find peace and read in the quiet courtyard. Sitting in your usual spot, legs tucked beneath you, you let yourself read the story, starting from the beginning, letting your fingertips caress the pages with love.

In no time at all, you were lost in the story, the world around you melting away as you concentrated on the writing and pages. It felt good to read, to lose yourself to the world in the story and have a moment of reprieve from the one crumbling around you. 

A chill swept across the courtyard, and the light from the sun began to dim. Lifting your head from the book you looked up to the sky. A large dark cloud had begun to move across the realm, taking away the warmth that the sun had brought. It looked like it was going to rain, and so picking yourself up from your spot, you moved to go back to your chambers.

On the table still sat the quill, ink and paper for you to respond to your fathers letter, and so you did. It had been a long time since you had written anything. You would wager that the last time you had picked up a quill was before the war began.

It shook in your hand as you dipped it into the ink pot, watching the dark liquid rise up the nose of the pen, scraping off any excess against the rim of the ink well. It smelt like the library back on Dragonstone, or the table where Daemon wrote and studied.

Your writing was a little messy. Difficulties arose holding a quill with your cut hand, the tensed tendons causing your palm to ache, but you continued on, writing back in vigour, telling them of how the Keep was fine, and all was well. 

How you missed them all dearly, asking them to hold each other for you. How you wished to fly in the sky with Caraxes, and how their letter meant the world to you. 

You wrote of how Aemond had been a good husband thus far, tending to your every needs and ensuring of your comfort at Kings Landing. 

It was a brazen lie, but one you knew you needed to make. 

You mentioned how you were gladdened for the treaty, and soon hoped to see them all soon, with intentions to perhaps visit them on Dragonstone, or Driftmark. 

You signed off with your name, and implored that they write back soon. Then below your sign off you copied your father, a small scribbled star and more writing, though the ink ran heavy and so the star looked more like a blob of ink that had fallen from the nib of the pen onto the page. You watched it bleed through the parchment, spreading widely before you continued on. 

‘Thankfully for this moment, there is no need for a barrel of Star Fruit. My Lord Husband has ensured that there is plenty for me to eat. But if I am in need of more, I will be sure to write to you, and you can send them promptly to the Keep.’

You hoped that this would be enough for them to know that you were okay. Okay as you could be. And hoped that they would understand that you knew of their meaning, and would ask for help if it came to it.

But for now, you must go alone.

You left the parchment on the table, looking down at the ink before you stood to leave the chambers, the day slowly moving by with no return of Aemond, and no sign of Aegon. It was a relief that could not have come sooner.

The sky had gotten darker once you left, and a biting wind had begun to sweep through the grounds of the Red Keep. It traveled up the base of your neck and down your spine as you walked with purpose. 

No knight or guard followed you as you travelled through the Keep, gazing at the grey stones and bland decor. The Lords and Ladies who came and went inside the Keep were dressed in their finest robes, though you had noticed their attire had become more modest since the last visit. 

You wondered if it was due to the redecorating, and severe presence of the Seven Faith.

Or were they following Alicent’s strict traditions?

You headed towards the Dragon Pit with great determination. Strength in each step as you got closer to one of the entrances. 

You wondered if Vermithor would be down waiting outside the cavern of the pit for you. Or perhaps he had flown back to Dragonstone. Or maybe he was away hunting. Treating himself to food to fill his gullet. 

This end of the Keep was colder and darker than the rest, and with the looming storm cloud above, it felt unnerving to be where you were. But you kept on, and wished to see if you could even venture down there. 

Would there be guards stationed at the entrances preventing you from entering?

Would there be gates in place, locked to keep you out?

You could see the entrance up ahead. Large open walk way, and to your surprise, no-one guarding it. Excitement ran through you as you continued forward, your pace quickening.

“My Lady, stop.” Came a booming voice from behind you.

Your feet faltered in their step but you kept on, ignoring the presence of Ser Criston Cole behind you.

“By order of the King, you are not permitted to be down here.” He spoke, voice behind you as he caught up to your steps loudly.

You were so close to the entrance, that perhaps if you made a run for it, you could sneak through.

A hand grasped your shoulder, and you spun around, shoving it off of you angrily. His touch made your skin crawl and you fought hard to keep back a sneer as you faced him. You did not want to be touched, especially from the likes of him.

Ser Cole stood, taller than you, dark hair and tanned skin, brilliant eyes, all looking down at you, as his face held steady. He was a handsome man, but a viciously prudish one. He would have had a lot of potential if he was not the lap dog of the Dowager Queen.

“Ser Cole, if I am not mistaken, I live in this Keep. I am permitted to go where I please.” You argued, craning your head to look up at him.

“The King has forbade your entrance to the Dragon Pit.” He said blankly.

“The King then serves to defile the sanctity of this treaty.” You sneered at him, anger and rage coursing through you.

“You may go wherever you please, Princess, except here.”

“And what would my mother, the Queen, think of this? Nowhere in our treaty agreements did it say that I would be forbidden to ride my dragon.”

Ser Cole said nothing and looked down at you. 

It made you all the more angry. 

You turned to continue to walk forward.

Fuck the King.

The sound of armour clinked around you, as Cole moved to stand in front of you, blocking your path. His silver armour shone brightly, even in the dim light of the corridor. It was as though he spent his evenings, every evening, polishing it with his tongue. 

“Move.” You snipped, trying to side step the man in front of you, but he followed your step, blocking your path again, a hand coming out to prevent you from moving forward. 

You attempted to side step him again, only to be blocked by his hulking figure. You huffed out a breath looking at him. Criston kept his face impassive as he looked down at you, though you could not help but notice the small frown in the corners of his lips. As if looking at you disgusted him.

As if you were beneath him.

“The Prince is looking for you.”

His words made you stiffen.

Aemond was back.

And he was looking for you.

“Fuck you, and fuck the Prince.”

Ser Coles jaw tensed, and you watched in delight as he took a calming breath through his nose. You continued to glare up at the man, waiting for him to give you a reason, any reason, to hit him across the face, but he said nothing more.

Disappointing.

You would have liked to blacken his eye.

You both held your ground, and then the slow looming realisation set in.

There was no way you were going to be able to get into the Pit today. 

You turned away from the man angrily, walking briskly back out the way you came as you tried to steady your breaths. If you could not go to the Dragon Pit, then you supposed you would have to find another way in. 

One of your questions however, was now answered.

You were being watched.

The sky above you grumbled as you moved towards the Godswood, looking up through its branches, begging it to give you strength. A breeze pulled sharply through the courtyard, swaying your skirts as you stood beneath the crimson leaves.

A single wet drop landed on your arm, breaking you from your unheard begging. It slid down your skin leaving a wet trail behind, as you lifted your head to the heavens. Fat drops of rain began to fall from the sky. One drop landed on your cheek, sliding down your face. Then another, and another. Until soon, the sky opened and rain fell freely and heavily, down to the earth below.

The smell of rain was something that you always loved. Sometimes you could smell it, even before it happened. It was something that could not be recreated, and its heavenly scent was earthy and wet. But it was the way that the soil and grass smelt after a storm that was your favourite.

A most addictive smell. 

Drop after drop of rain fell through the cracks of the branches from the Godswood, falling onto you below it, soaking through your gown. You did not move from your spot. The rain pelted down deafeningly, the sound of the water beating on the Keeps stones and roof, surrounding you loudly. 

It created a calming white noise. 

But then it brought back memories.

Arrax flew into a cavern and you and Syndor pulled to the side violently, barely missing the rocks of the cliff. Syndor pulled out across the water beside it, both of you disoriented by the thunder and rain.

“Lucerys!!” You called out, hoping to hear him call back. 

You blinked sharply at the memory, your hair and gown drenched by the torrential downpour that beat around you. And yet despite this, you could not move. As though your feet had grown roots and dug deep down into the earth, entwining themselves with the Godswood.

“Sōvegon, Lucerys!” You screamed into the air, heart racing in your chest as the rain beat against your skin. Your brother disappeared into the clouds above, the small dragon flying into a clear patch of light.

Your breath was caught in your throat as the images flooded your head, you couldn’t make them stop. 

The clouds separated below Lucerys, and jaws rose from beneath them. Vhagar's large form burst through the clouds, jaws snapping over Lucerys and Arrax. 

Arrax screamed.

A hand grabbed your shoulder and you gasped, heart rising in your throat as the hand spun you around.

You were met with the concerned face of your husband, who stood just as wet as you were, beneath the Godswood. His hair was heavy with the rain, it’s tendrils sticking to the leather of his robes, and his dark leather eyepatch was snug on his face once more.

Why was he wearing his patch again?

“Have you gone mad?” He asked, voice loud so as to not be drowned out by the rain. 

You blinked at him, feeling the weight of his palm on your shoulder as new memories flooded forth.

Skin met skin as Aemond held your hips in his lap, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he thrusted painfully up into your heat, grunting from the force he was using. 

His hand tightened on your shoulder. You ripped yourself out of his grip, digging your nails into the skin of his hand as he looked at you.

“Do not touch me.” You sneered, chest rising and falling.

Your dress was stuck to your skin from the rain, the gown growing more, and more heavy with every passing moment. It chilled your flesh, causing goosebumps to erupt over you.

“Come out of the rain.” He commanded.

You were shivering.

“No.”

You knew that you should. But you pettily argued anyway.

“Don't be a child. You will catch cold.” He growled, hand grabbing your arm again tightly, fingers digging into the flesh.

“Let go of me.” You growled, trying to pry his hand off of you as the rain continued to pour. 

Aemond did not listen to you as he began to drag you away from the Godswood and towards the shelter of the Keep. You dug your heels into the ground and pulled back, desperate to free yourself from his grip. 

You were terrified. 

“Let go!” You cried, voice drowned by the rain.

He pulled you over the roots of the tree, your feet fumbling, and down to the grass. You fought the whole way, your own fingers trying to bend his back to be rid of his bruising grip. Not until you were pulled onto the cobblestones, out of the rain and beneath the roof of the Keeps open corridors did Aemond finally release you. 

You leapt back, away from him, chest rising and falling as you brought your hand to where his grip had been. The skin tingled and stung and you knew that there would be bruises from it. Aemond stared at you expectantly, watching as your chest rose and fell. 

Water dripped from your hair and face, your eyelashes clumped together from the rain, or tears, or a combination of both. The red gown you wore was almost a deep black from the rain, and it's many layers weighed you down. 

You shivered uncontrollably under his stare. 

Aemond stood tall, and drenched, looking how he did the day he sat upon his dragon when he plucked Lucerys from the sky. His hair was dripping down onto the floor, puddles forming beneath the both of you. 

“Come.” He commanded, eye never leaving your face.

You only stared back at him, defiant until the end.

Much to your detriment.

“I will not tell you again.” 

Aemond turned on his heel and began his way towards your shared chambers, wet footsteps marking the stone floors as he went. You did not move, watching him get all but ten paces in front of you, before he turned around to see you in the spot he had left you. 

A shadow crossed your uncles face before he made large, swift steps towards you. His hand gripped your arm where it had before, and he jerked you towards him, dragging you through the Keep as you stumbled on your feet behind him.

What more could happen?

The worse has already been done.

The One-Eyed Prince dragged you to your shared chambers, the knight opening and closing the door behind you. Once inside, Aemond all but threw you away from him in anger as you both stood soaked in the room. 

He stormed back to the door, flinging it open loudly before barking at the knight to have the maids fetch hot water for a bath and fresh clothes for the both of you. You breathed heavily, rooted in the same spot that he had flung you to, watching him. 

When the door was shut again, he turned and looked at you angrily. 

“Are you done?”

You looked at him incredulously, “Done with what?”

“Making a fool of yourself and me.”

“I have done nothing of the sort.” You snipped.

“Hm.”

Your husband turned to walk himself to the fire, water dripping onto the floor, leaving a wet trail behind him, until he stopped, eye flitting to the table where your letter was still sitting. 

“Are you writing to tell them what I have done.”

You swallowed thickly as you looked at him, his eye not having left the paper. Water dripped from the sleeves of your gown and you felt a chill roll through your body. You could not help but hug yourself, as you watched him. The cool from the rain and the rising fear of your husbands anger caused ice to settle in your heart. 

“No." You paused, "You wouldn’t send it, even if I did.”

“Hm.”

Aemond took determined steps towards the table as you stayed nearby. 

“Your father seems quite concerned with whether or not we have star fruit at the Keep.”

Your heart began to race in your chest. 

His eye rose to your own and held you in a stare. Aemond reached up to pull his eyepatch away, which had become tangled in his hair from the torrential rain. As he pulled it free, he tossed it onto the table beside the letter, small water droplets landing on the page.

“Do you think that I can’t provide for you?” He sneered, and you let a silent breath of relief out from your lips. “Do not worry, wife. I will ensure your precious star fruit is readily available for you.”

The tension in the air was thick as he continued to stare at you.

“Where were you?”

Curiosity got the better of you.

“That’s none of your concern.” He responded.

You furrowed your brow at him. You opened your mouth to respond, but he beat you to it, asking you a question of his own.

“What were you doing down by the Dragon Pit.”

Fuck.

“I wanted to ride Vermithor.”

Aemond laughed at you, taking another step forward.

“Ser Cole said you were quite upset.”

Another step.

“I was not aware that I wasn’t allowed to fly.” You said calmly, watching as he stalked over towards you.

“Mmm. So that you can burn the Keep the way you did Riverrun? Do you think we are stupid?”

You did not answer. 

“What was it that you said? Remind me.”

You continued to stay silent, watching as he came to stand in front of you, looking down his sharp nose at your face as his pupil was blown wide. 

Aemond stood an arms length away from you, dripping wet and bristling with something.

“'Fuck the Prince’ I think it was. At least, that’s what Ser Criston told me.” 

Anger.

You tilted your head to look up at him, keeping strong and not answering to his attempts of stirring. 

Aemond stepped forward, chest against yours as he snatched your face in one hand, fingers cruelly digging into the skin of your cheeks as he looked down at you. He roughly pressed his lips against yours in a chaste kiss and you stiffened in his grip.

He pulled back to look at you again.

“Whether you like it or not, you are my sweet, Lady Wife. You will live here until your last breath, and I will put my seed in you. You will birth my heirs," He smirked, "And you will be thankful for it. That is your duty.” His fingers shook your face as you kept still, looking up at him, breathing shallowly. 

“Your family sold you to me. You were a bartering piece that they moved about the board. A way to end the war. Your mother is Queen now that she gave you up.”

You ground your teeth and clenched your jaw as he continued to look down at you, his fingers bruising your face.

“I am your husband. You swore yourself to me." His eye flickered down to your lips, "I could give you everything if you let me.” He whispered.

Aemond crashed his lips against yours again, kissing you fiercely as you stood in shock. Tingles spread across your body as he brought a hand to the back of your head, trying to deepen the kiss. 

You parted your mouth, feeling Aemond’s tongue swipe at your lips gently, as he cradled the back of your head, his other hand still gripping your jaw. He pulled you closer as you let yourself melt slightly into the kiss, feeling him become gentler.

Aemond's bottom lip brushed against yours and you pulled it into your mouth softly, feeling him hum. He pressed himself up against you, his grip on your chin coming to frame the side of your face, fingers tangling in your hair.

This would be nice if it wasn't him.

You bit down on his lip.

Hard.

The Prince jerked back, a small grunt falling from his mouth. The taste of copper spread on your tongue, and you watched as blood began to trickle from his lip where you had bitten him. You swallowed and braced yourself for his reckoning, but it never came.

Instead Aemond brought a hand to his lips, fingers brushing over the blood to look at them, before a large smile broke out on his face, teeth showing. 

“There she is. My zaldristos.” 

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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[hail-brod]

Smile, Smile. 2

Gwen Stacy x FReader

Previous chapter: Part 1 || Masterlist

Gwen promised to herself that she would be sweeping you off your feet with elation the moment she sees you again. Well, a year of her disappearing into dimensions didn't sit quite well for the both of you. Or not.

Gwen was finally back home, in her own universe and this time she makes sure that she didn’t end up in a different one. A repeat of what happened to Miles the first time was disastrous as it is.

One call for her father was all it took before she was met by his paused form from the kitchen and not like before, he looked to be doing fine. For a second Gwen thought she did actually end up in a different universe but as soon as he opened his mouth to speak, her shoulders sagged in relief.

“Welcome back.”

She didn’t waste a second to run up to his arms for a fairly long embrace.

Everything up to now was tough. Her father was one of the many important things in her life and she almost tried to abandon that warmth after her best friend’s death. It feels as though, she had lost hope on the people that was close to her but deep down inside, there was only one thing she wanted- and that was for them to understand her.

She was no longer a stray spider, webbing her way into one universe after another. This is where she belonged and she’ll cherish her time wisely because there is only one sole universe that she can call home. And she has one purpose that she intends to do. One of the many reasons that made her long to go back. That have always been nagging her mind ever since she was pushed in the light of things about your variants.

Your variants. Your other selves.

In some other dimension, you were dead. In some, you were alive and well. And in some, you were hopelessly trying to live until it does eventually start to swallow you whole.

You hid so many things with that same, damn. fucking. smile.

Gwen had so many questions about why. Why were you hurting? Why were you suffering? She wanted to know and it proved to be hard to find herself meddle about your life’s experiences. With Lyla’s help in gathering data about you, she came to understand some more things. You always know how to mend that perfect smile, easy to fool anyone with how optimistic it looks, until one certain thing happens that would crack your display as it will leave room for the following things that was meant to always happen to you. It was a part of your existence, and what lies behind your façade is your struggle to look at the brighter side of things.

And one major event that always happen is when you lose your one and only anchor in life, your older sibling.

Death would always play a big part on things and she hates it. Like a phase in life that no one can escape, but that’s life trying to overthrow the joys of living. Getting through it is never easy but there are always times that will make way for a new start. She believes that. There will always be someone that’ll come to wipe the tears away and someone that’ll crumble the walls down.

And Gwen doesn’t give a shit if she wasn’t fated to be by your side. She damn well knows what she wants and she won’t resist anymore, because you were her anchor when she felt like tearing the world apart.

Even her little crush on you seemed to bloom into something more. If she cared so much about you before—that that was clear enough when her mind was always finding ways to think of you—then now, it seems like she values nothing else but making your smile truer than you want it to be. She’ll be a friend to you even if she harboured feelings to you that you might not accept. She’ll be someone you can rely on whenever you’re at your lowest.

She’ll be the one to see the widest smiles that you can show.

She knows she’d been only speculating from different variants of you and she might be wrong in assuming your situation, but that doesn’t mean she won’t try to make things better. She has knowledge that she can put to use and she’s not about to waste a second in pondering over it. Way before knowing anything, you were not just someone she admired, you were also her friend. There’s no way something like canon can stop her. She learned that the hard way.

But there is one problem she has to face.

She has been away for a year

How would you feel about her suddenly appearing out of nowhere and being all buddy-buddy with you? She’d never really warn you about going away for quite a long time and she feels like a jerk for not doing so. How were you doing? Did you already forgot about her? Do you still consider as a friend? How funny is that when all this time she has been thinking about you throughout different dimensions then comes back to find out that you might’ve already been out of her reach.

It unnerves her, making her stomach churn.

She just hopes that isn’t the case.

But then, she almost paled when she discovered you haven’t been going to classes for the past few days. Her anxiety boiled within her like an incoming eruption of regret, and despair was about to fill her heart. She didn’t want to believe anything her mind whispers to her nor the uncanny way they mocked her for failing to be by your side.

“Gwen?” Then you called.

 

She can only frown at the voice. It was so familiar she immediately turned to look behind her. And you were standing there, alive and….well.

Were you?

But she could only freeze on the spot while she took in your sudden appearance (considering she was supposed to be the sudden one), a moment spent to readjust her thinking process that, you were there. Every inkling feeling of dread was washed down the drain once she completely realized that she hasn’t lost you. She wasn’t too late. Your shocked look was what she saw first- but that faded away when Gwen saw how your shoulders tensed down at the sight of her.

Then you smiled.

That same damn smile. Still blinding and enthralling. But she couldn’t help but doubt the honesty in your expression. Because she knows. Then again, she didn’t want to assume.

“You remember me.” Her stiff shoulders relaxed, chuckling lightly. “I thought you’ve already forgotten about me after a year.”

“What are you saying?” You frown, a hint of disbelief in your tone. “I may not have the best memory but you have left quite the impression on me, Gwen Stacy.”

Then you chuckle back before asking. “How…How have you been?”

Gwen stares at you. You were…lighthearted. From this simple reunion with you, it was hard not to think about how you actually feel but then, you hit her with the impression of an easygoing girl who has been nothing but peachy.

Scratch that. If she’s going to keep being a worrywart, that’s surely only going to make you feel obligated. She had one purpose and that is to be a close friend to you that you can lean on anytime.

“I’m quite fine actually.” She replies with a gentle smile. “Look, [Y/N], sorry about disappearing on you. I don’t want to give you excuses but- I just don’t want you to think that I left without thinking about you.” Gwen breathes out.

You find yourself speechless at her words before blinking. “Oh- Wha- H-Hey, no big deal. It’s fine really. I understand where you’re going with that and I’m not mad about it.” You let out a nervous laugh.

Gwen only gives you a pointed glance, observing your slight frantic form, still smiling at her genuinely that she can’t help but stare longer. No matter how many times she told herself that you were an angel, she still can’t wrap it around her head how forgiving you can be. Though, she won’t just let herself get away from a simple forgiveness just because you were too nice. She wants you to know how much she regrets leaving you for a year and she’s not backing down.

Smiling, she retorts. “Well, whether you like it or not, I’m going to annoy you every single day from now on. I’m back now and you’re the only one that I can really think of in this entire school so….beware.”

Giggling, Gwen locks her arm with yours as you could only look up to her with round eyes and gaping lips. Your visible shock wasn’t all that exaggerated but it was enough for Gwen to see the transition when you eventually cracked up a small laugh out of your lips.

Gwen’s heart swelled.

“I think… I don’t have a problem with that.” You commented, bringing out a modest smile. Though, she surely didn’t miss the way your cheeks flushed. Then you look at her with something that seemed so soft than your usual gaze. “Welcome back, Gwen.”

As simple as those words coming from your lips, it was enough to make her heart pound for you more. But she contains it- she tries.

“Only for you, [Y/N].” She says without hesitating.

Was that too much? Did she sounded like she was flirting?

Her thoughts wanted to spiral out of control but by that time, it was unavoidable to feel the rising embarrassment up her cheeks and one last resort she could only think of was drag you deeper in the halls of your school. She likes to think that she handled that quite smoothly but she knows she faltered and flinched at how she acted out.

Awkward, maybe.

But fortunately, when Gwen sneakily glanced at you- she pretended she didn’t just see how you meekly shifted your gaze away from her as your face burned darker in red.

Oh.

She can feel her pride rising up.

Even if that gives her some sort of hope for a higher relationship with you, she’s going to set that aside…for now. After all, being friends with you has always been one of the many things she came to cherish.

.

You liked Gwen.

She was…a great friend. She was someone you never thought would be willing to stick by your side; longer than you’d expect. You saw her as someone that’s so easygoing and a good-hearted person. But on the contrary, some of the people you know say the opposite views about her.

Gwen Stacy.

The girl that you only saw in the corridors of your school and a schoolmate that you never really paid much attention to. She was just someone that you knew from afar, her name mentioned here and there from a few of your other friends, the common and casual way of hearing about someone. You never judged her based on the whispers and gossips that the other students would mumble about because you simply didn’t want to be that kind of person who adheres to baseless claims of people they clearly didn’t knew anything about. So when you got to meet her personally, you didn’t threw her under the bus.

You didn’t really care much if your judgments were to be proven wrong but the fact that Gwen herself was the one to approach you was enough for you to accept her friendship.

But at the end, you thought it was only going to be a one-time friendly interaction that will eventually fade after a few weeks. You knew people didn’t found you interesting enough to stick by and it was always the case with everyone you knew.

You never had deep connections with others and you weren’t aware you could actually do. People will always leave no matter what the stakes are and you’ve come to accept that as the norm.

But you were wrong.

Gwen proved you wrong. For as much as many times you see each other at school, hallways, library or even bathroom—she never failed to give you attention and acknowledge your presence as if you were the most interest thing she had ever seen that day. Her smiles greet you with so much elation that you never really came to acknowledge how different she makes you feel. How gentle she taps unto the corners of your mind and that in a single moment, you’ve considered her as a friend that you never had.

In no time, you became fond of her.

Though, neither of you tapped into closer bonds. Or more like, you feel that Gwen was holding herself back. And that pinched something inside your heart.

But the more the days went by with her distancing herself from you, the more you feel like- that was it. You really thought you could have the one single thing you have always wanted. That one belonging feeling you’ve always wanted to experience with a peer that can understand and share whatever feelings or sentiments you genuinely want to show. A newborn fear enraged itself inside you and it felt like...you were being dragged down deeper in the hells of your mind.

Then…

You never saw Gwen again.

You never thought you were capable of feeling a different kind of ache in your heart after that, leaving a crack that you didn’t know would fare far worse in the future.

At least, supposedly.

Because when you recognized her back facing you, blonde hair with an undercut on the side, your heart almost leaped out of your chest.

That day…...you genuinely smiled.

Previous chapter: Part 1 || Masterlist

Ko-fi?

[mono-dot-jpeg]

listening - stellaron hunters

summary; you cannot see the reality in front of you but you can hear it. and yet it sounds so painful.

genre/extra tags; headcanons, angst ig?, hurt/comfort (questionably executed), reader has torchwick's (rwby) cane weapon thing but not really, reader has the hunt path and lighting as combat type, i'm seeing in 4d right now with how im setting this specific reader up rn, actual lore executed badly

[platonic] [teen reader] [gender neutral]

[warnings; mentions of eye injuries, insecurities/doubts about one's self, weapons mentioned quite a bit]

[buy me a kofi]

a/n; sorry this took me almost a month (maybe longer depending on when i finish this work). got distracted very quickly by other things and then i got writer's block for a while. whatever so. i'll describe reader's weapon in the headcanons, don't worry. hope you enjoy.

you were an unexpected addition to the hunters. i mean you're so young compared to everyone else, what makes you so adamant on joining this group

i guess we'll never know /ref

but like all the hunters, you hold power just as heavy as the rest.

of course it wasn't for free. you worked hard in your homeland and you earned your path and power.

but you wanted to find something. something was missing.

you didn't know what.

but then you found the stellaron hunters.

you heard about the stellaron and you wanted to know more. you wanted to see it.

and somehow, elio had accepted you.

and you were now a hunter.

before you lost your sight, you were very skilled with tech like silver wolf. you loved making weapons or machinery

you worked behind the scenes and on the stage, so to speak

your preferred weapon was a sniper. and occasionally if you felt lazy, you would have a small turret by your side that would do the work for you

but imagine the absolute devastation you felt when you lost your eyesight in the middle of a mission. or more like during the mission

with your power, it was powerful but unstable

you could kill one enemy with ease but that would require high control with your lightning and careful aim with your sniper

unfortunately you have to control the lightning through your hands on onto the sniper so when you aim down the sights (i dont know how to describe it other than in gamer terms) that lightning has a chance to backfire and hit your eye

through that you managed to lose your sight overtime but this mission accelerated it

and you never felt so devastated

your power betrayed you and on top of that, it was in the middle of a battle and the enemies took an opportunity to take you down quickly.

blade and kafka were there to help clean up at least

but they couldn't handle the lost mess you were

"why can't i see anymore? why?" was the only mutters they heard from you

when you were taken back to base, you were attended to, much to your dismay and fear.

your usually hard headed behavior crumbled within 10 mins after you lost your vision

you felt weak

you felt helpless

you didn't feel strong anymore

your eyes were no longer functional, there's an irregular pattern that traces over your eyes and there's faint marks over the eye area you used the most for sniping.

blade describes the pattern as an angry lightning storm that doesn't end

and when you're done being cared for, you don't leave your room

when you do, you're dragged by kafka or silverwolf (occasionally blade but he just carries you roughly)

you feel like a burden every time you sit at the meeting table

you can hear everything with your vision gone

and you hate it

you want to see again but you know you won't

eventually you find your courage to start to navigate the base on your own

you find yourself in your abandoned lab with blade by your side

"stop frowning like that"

"that's a lot coming from you"

"you're really going to let this eye sight stop you?"

"well i can't exactly wield metal anymore. and i can't use my sniper rifle cane, what do you think i should do, boy genius?"

you feel him open your hand to show your palm and you feel a cold metal touch your hand. you start feeling it properly.

"this is my sniper rifle, blade."

"well, maybe it doesn't have to serve as a sniper. you don't need to take the first shot to kill."

and with that in mind, you become like a follow-up attacker

you train endlessly to improve yourself as much as possible.

you ask silver wolf to help you modify your weapon to work for you (you kind of backseated her about it despite being unable to see what she was doing)

and you now have a multi-functioning cane.

it functions as a gun, a mobility cane to help you walk and "see", and a melee weapon if you hit someone hard enough (which isn't really hard since it's made of a lightweight metal)

and of course if worse comes to worse and you need to deal with a bunch of enemies at once, it can release a powerful strike of lightning (similar to jingyuan ult). you have to let go of your cane so you don't get hurt but ehh small price to pay to save your ass, you know?

i think that since you're a teen in this, the hunters don't really pay attention to your feelings as well as they should

none of them really know how to comfort a teen. which makes sense.

blade and silver wolf are blunt in their own ways

kafka is very avoidant or she speaks so confusingly that you dont even bother

but when they really see you visit your unused lab everyday, they slowly start to understand that you had a part of you taken and you won't ever live your life the way you want to

but surely this is the work of elio. elio knew this was coming, and he knew you would be fine.

it takes a while for the others to tell you that you're not the burden you think you are. they try their best to comfort you even if it's really awkward bc they don't know how to comfort you properly yet

but you appreciated it.

[gemini-sensei]

okay but sub! shy! virgin! hawk with a mommy kink <33. he’d be so shy and it’d be so cute ahhdhdhhdhe

Shy!Sub!Hawk Moskowitz x Chubby!Dom!Reader NSFW Blurb

Mommy kink ○ Fem!Reader

CW: loss of virginity, dom/sub dynamics but not explicitly discussed, unprotected sex. (unedited)

Hawk talks a big game for someone who has yet to lose their virginity. He gives off the energy that he'll top and be great at giving a girl dick, when he has no idea what he's talking about. Reader stews at the thought, eventually coming to the conclusion that Hawk needs a reality check...

At training, she spars with him and let's him think he has the upper hand, but then flips it around on him. She pins him down easily, making sure he can't move with his hands to the mat and her body on his hips. She smirks at his wide eyes and the faint blush forming on his cheeks. While the rest of the class applauds her, she subtly rolls her hips and feels his cock stir, then twitch at her dominance. Neither say a word about it and she stands up and offers him her hand, which he takes and pulls him up harder than expected.

When it's time to go, she corners him at his car. As everyone else leaves, it looks like they're having a normal conversation. They have no idea she's confronting him about how he claims to be quite the dominant force in bed.

He clams up and goes quiet, bowing his head. She steps closer and backs him up against his car, then cups his crotch and palms him through the material of his pants. He groans and tries to keep up his act onelce more, ready to puff up his chest. But she stops him once again.

"I don't even think you've ever gotten your dick wet."

Next thing he knows, he's sitting behind the wheel and she's reached over the middle console giving him a handjob. His facade is crumbling as he whines loudly, having to keep his eyes focused on the road while she plays with his cock. He doesn't have to look at her to know she's smirking, he can hear it in her laugh. Every time she chuckles at his inexperience, it sends shivers down his spine and his thick cock twitches in her hand.

Then they're making their way through the house and to his bedroom. She pins him to the door before he can even get it open. She's rough with him as she palms him again, jerking him off through his pants.

He lets out a feeble, whiny, "mommy," and she stops.

He looks up at her, shocked at his own words. He feels all the heat coursing through his body make its way up to his face, in his cheeks and in his ears. She's staring at him with a hard to read expression and he swallowed hard trying to find the right words to say to next.

But he doesn't get the changlce to say anything more. She opens the door behind him and pushes him in. "Take off your clothes, get on the bed, and let mommy show you how it's done."

He stammers, "ye-yes, mommy." Then he starts stripping.

Once nude, he crawls onto the bed, weeping cock between his legs nice and hard. He sits and rests back on his hands, unsure of how she wants him to be. Does she want him to lay there? Sit there? What? He doesn't know what to now and it shows.

"Wh-what are you going to do?" He asks, watching her watch him.

She stands at the end of his bed, still fully clothed. She stares at him, most notably his cock as it lays over his abs. But when he speaks, she looks at him and takes it all in, his facial expression, the way he's sitting, how he's looking at her. She knows she has his full attention, so she starts stripping slowly.

Instead of answering his question, she asks, "have you ever seen real tits before?"

He shyly and embarrassingly shakes his head. His eyes are glued to her, cheeks and ear and neck burning bright red. Though his mohawk says his a brash, loud mouth guy, she sees nothing of the sort left over. All she sees in a quiet, shy virgin.

Once her bra comes off and and tits are freed, his eyes widen. She cups them and squeezes them, plays with her nipples and moans softly. He watches every movement she makes, silently taking notes before she stops and starts undoing her pants.

Soon, she naked and crawling onto the bed. She licks her lips as she sees his cock twitch and ooze pre cum onto his stomach. She comes to a stop in front of him, between his knees, and sits on her knees. "Now, what do you want, Hawk?"

She says his name like a taunt, teasing him with his macho, tough guy act. He knows it's what she's doing and he doesn't even care, shivering at the way she looks at him. He feels so small under her gaze.

"I-I want... want you to ride me..."

"Who?"

He looks at her, a little unsure. "M-mommy?"

Reader smirks at him. "Good boy."

She comes closer and positions herself over him, and he sits back and watches. He doesn't know where to look, but his eyes scan over her whole form as she gets him ready. From her tits to her belly to her wet pussy as she drags it along his length. He whines lowly, trying go hide the embarrassing noise from her. However, she just grinds down on his twitchy cock and pulls the noises out of him louder.

Then she reaches down and holds his cock up to her pussy, rubbing the tip through her folds before sinking down on it. His tip pops in easy, but she doesn't stop go let him really feel it and get used to the feeling. No, she just keeps going, letting her fat cunt eat up his twitchy cock until her ass is pressed against his thighs. They're hip to hip and as he looks down at where they meet, he realizes she's taken him all in one go. His thick cock is buried to the hilt in real, warm pussy and his body can hardly take it.

His cock twitches erratically and he holds back, using every fiber of his being to not come yet. But she crumbles him easily like she's done to him all day.

She leaned in close to him, pressing her bare tits to his chest and they squish up. She lightly grinds her hips as she starts kissing his jaw, dragging her soft flesh along his cut jawline. "Are you gonna come already, baby? I know you are. I feel your cock throbbing inside me. Mommy won't be upset if you come now. I promise. Go ahead. Come. Come from just putting it in Mommy's pussy."

Her dirty, borderline mean words allow him to let go. He's whining loudly as he comes and she kisses his stretched lips, as of kissing the very noises he's making whilst he can't kiss her back. She holds him and mumbles against his lips as he comes in his first raw pussy.

"There you go, baby. Just like that," she tells him, petting his jaw sweetly. She rolls her hips into his, milking his orgasm for everything it is and can be, making him feel like he's belong cloud nine. His cum splashes against her cervix as she grinds her hips down on his, humming softly as she smiles against his whimpering lips. "It must feel good to finally have you cock buried in a real pussy. Does it feel good, baby?"

"Yes..."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, Mommy," he whines. His hands are on her hips and he's gripping them tightly, but he knows he has no control over the way they move on him. He doesn't really care though, brain turned to mush as he's still firing off into her cunt. Slowly, as he comes to a stop, the fog lifts and he looks up at Reader. "Thank you, mommy."

"Aww," she chuckles and cups his chin. She pouts and smirks. "It's not over yet, baby. You still have to make Mommy come. You want Mommy to feel good, too, right?"

He nods excitedly and she laughs at his enthusiasm, sending shivers up his spine. His dick stays hard as she doesn't stop rolling her hips.

"Good boy," she mumbles, leaning into him. She kisses him for real this time and they sit there making out for a while, her tongue shoved into his mouth and lashing against his. She lets him, too shy to do anything more, slowly learning what he should do with his tongue.

Then she pulls away and pushes him down onto the bed. She pins him down by the shoulders and spreads her knees further apart. He pants hard, watching her with wide eyes from below. She lifts her hips up, then drops them back down roughly. He moans, throwing his head back, uncaring that he's messing up his hair.

He lets out a cry of "Mommy!"

And Reader moans lowly with him, smirking as she continues the pace she set, planning on riding him nice and hard as he cries out for his new mommy until his voice goes hoarse.

[rebelspykatie]

Part 2 of 2 🧦🧵 NSFW

Part 1 | AO3

The gremlin part of his brain takes over, kissing back, pushing all rational thought aside, not fully comprehending that Steve is kissing him, not the other way around. But after a minute, Eddie pulls back with just a single thought. “Hint?” 

“You think I didn’t notice you following me around for five years?” Steve wipes a bit of spit from the corner of his mouth, sucking on his finger and short circuiting Eddie’s brain again, “You’re not subtle, man.” 

“You knew?” 

“It took me a while to figure it out. Thought you were trying to get dirt on me or something, but once you showed up at the mall, Robin vouched for you, said you had a crush and it all started to make sense. I think she was testing the waters on whether I would be homophobic more than anything else at the time, but it really got the gears in my brain turning.” 

“And they landed on kissing me?” 

“Well, I’ve been trying to get you to crack for months. You didn’t even crumble when I was parading around shirtless in front of you, figured it was a lost cause and we were wrong about you.” He twirls a strand of Eddie’s hair. “Guess not.” 

“You’ve wanted me this whole time? That’s why you’ve been wearing these skimpy little outfits?” 

Steve smirks. “My chest hair is legendary. I knew it would send you over the edge eventually.” 

Eddie groans, “It was the socks.” An adorable little crease crinkles Steve’s forehead in confusion. “The tiny shorts and your impressive chest hair are great, but these socks really do it for me.” 

“You get hot and bothered over a little calf, Munson?” Steve pushes him back a step, hopping onto the counter and dangling his legs enticingly. Steve’s hands fall behind him, spreading his legs and inviting Eddie in with a come hither look Eddie’s never seen directed at himself. 

Another involuntary groan is pulled from Eddie at the sight, Steve laying himself out on the counter like this, thick thighs spread out. “You’re killing me, Harrington.” 

“Well then do something about it, big boy,” and it’s Steve throwing that back at him that gets him moving, diving in to capture Steve’s mouth in a fierce kiss, stepping right into the trap between his thighs. 

Steve’s hands go to his hair, holding him close and angling him just right, tongues tangling together. Eddie’s hands drag up and down Steve’s legs, combing through the coarse hair, digging into the meat of his thighs, running fingertips over the top of the socks. He snaps the elastic on them, earning a gasp from Steve, who bites down on his lip in retaliation. 

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to touch these?” Eddie asks when they come up for air. He feels the soft material under his hands, touches along the fabric like he’s always wanted to, grabbing Steve at the bend in his knees and pulling him to the edge of the counter, pushing forward with his hips until they’re grinding against each other. 

Steve uses his leverage and clutches onto Eddie's shoulders, lifting himself the tiniest bit off the counter to rub their dicks together, the friction from the layers caught between them almost painful. Eddie moves his hands to the waistband of Steve’s shorts. 

“Lift up,” Eddie says, and Steve follows through immediately, lifting so Eddie can tug them off. Eddie undoes his own pants and pulls them down just enough to pull his cock out, a little sigh of relief escaping him. 

When he looks up, he’s lucky he doesn’t lose his shit right there. It’s sinful, seeing Steve like this, spread open on the counter in just his shirt and those socks, looking every bit the fantasy Eddie’s envisioned over the past five years. His cock jutting straight up, peeking out from under his shirt, teasing Eddie and begging for his attention. Something about his bare ass being on the Harrington’s pristine kitchen counters makes him feel feral. 

He seems to tire of waiting for Eddie’s brain to recalibrate and starts stroking himself. As if that’s supposed to help Eddie focus. If he hadn’t been waiting five years to get his hands on Steve, maybe he could let this play out a little longer, see how long Steve’s resolve holds, but he’s too turned on for that.

Throwing himself back into the space between Steve’s thighs, he pulls him in for another kiss, distractedly reaching for his own cock to line it up with Steve’s. That first touch makes him gasp into Steve’s mouth, losing the plot a bit from the pleasure shooting down his spine, curling his toes a little. They’re not so much kissing anymore, but breathing into each other’s mouths, open and hot, panting. 

Steve leans back onto his hands again to angle his hips up and drag the length of his cock along Eddie’s. It pulls on his forearms in the most delicious way, an impressive show of strength as he rocks his hips forward. Since Steve’s busy holding himself up, Eddie spits in his hand and reaches between them to grasp both of their lengths, cupping a hand around them to make it easier to slide together, more pressure to get them off faster. 

Eddie’s been close to the edge all night, one gust of wind away from coming in his pants just from the sight of Steve in these socks. So it doesn’t take long to push him over the edge, shooting off all over Steve’s shirt. When the last little shudder leaves his body and he glances up, Steve is staring at him slack jawed, whining almost inaudibly, still frantically moving his hips and pushing his cock through Eddie’s limp grasp. 

“That’s it big boy, you wanted my attention,” Eddie tightens his grip and settles his other hand on Steve’s thigh, “it’s all yours. You gonna come for me?”

Steve’s nodding, shaking as he finally comes undone, shooting thick ropes of cum all over the counter and Eddie’s shirt.

After a second, both of them panting to try to catch their breath, Steve collapses back onto the counter, one arm over his eyes. “I’m wearing these every damn day if that’s the result.”

A few of you asked to be tagged, so I hope you enjoy: @anaibis @marklee-blackmore

Part 1 | AO3

[familiarstale]

Before he went by the name Ruin/Jigsaw he still went by the name Eclipse and this is still pretty early on in the robot apocalypse when he finds something that will eventually become super precious to him.

Ruin Eclipse has been kidnapped out of TSAMS because they were doing him so dirty

Under a readmore because long

The sounds of screams and gunfire weren’t constant anymore, but you could still hear mayhem off in the distance. The fusion eclipse currently hiding behind the burned-out car hated hearing them. When around the others, they pretended the sounds didn’t faze them, but when on their own they shut off their eyes and held their hands over their audio sensors. Anything to try and block it all out.

The vibrations of violence grew a little more distant, and he felt safe to abandon his hiding spot. Switching their eyesight back on, the eclipse peeked over the top of the car, exposed endoskeleton fingers resting on the roof. The coast was clear. The hybrid eclipse quickly fled the area, not wanting to be there when the others cycled back around.

They darted down abandoned streets, rushing past cars that were still burning, hoping not to run into any survivors. He had no idea what to do if he did. Obviously, if any of the others were around, he’d have to kill the person but when alone it was harder to know. He’d want to let the human go – but what if the others found out?

Eclipse was still learning how to move with one damaged leg. If the others became enraged, they didn’t want it ripped all the way off.

They sprinted across rubble and frighteningly large pools of dried blood, and they almost fell from the sudden vibrations of a fight coming close again. Freezing, they listened, rays twitching slightly.

There were no screams, no pleas for mercy. So it wasn’t more murder just a … ‘friendly fire’ kind of thing. Their motor ran a little faster. They didn’t want to deal with that either.

Ducking into the closest hulk of a destroyed building, the sun-moon fusion bot crouched among piles of debris. Their yellow and blue wrists and yellow and red eyes glowed in the darkness. They hoped that wouldn’t give them away.

All he had to do was wait until they passed. That shouldn’t take too long. Just wait there, quiet. He’d done this countless times.

Eclipse jumped at the sound of voices. They looked around frantically, this way and that. Their rays could only twitch a little now; they would have shot upright in fear, if they still worked properly. But now, they only twitched. The voices weren’t coming nearer but they weren’t fading away, either. Someone in the building? They didn’t recognise them… and a human survivor group wouldn’t have such noisy, open conversations anymore.

… It could be one of those voices, the other type the former attendant had started to hear. The type that showed up when no one else was actually around. They hesitated, then slowly stood up, looking carefully around their surroundings.

He’s heard of museums, from chatting with children, a long time ago. This sort of looked similar to the descriptions, though this place was almost completely destroyed. Once-beautiful cement pillars had crumbled, and all of the display cases had been smashed, glass glittering on the floor. Some shards stuck to the bottom of the fusion’s shoes. Reaching down, he brushed them off, careful to not get any lodged into his exposed hand joints.

Looking around, they used the glow from their wrists and eyes to see more of their surroundings, stepping carefully to not pick up any more glass.

A lot of the display cases, even though now only wreckage on the floor, had been emptied. Only shelving, signage, glass and the sides of old wooden displays lay in heaping piles. Signs sliding off the rubble stated these cases used to hold historic weapons. Swords, bows and arrows, spears. These ancient tools must have been grabbed by humans, for protection. But, would old weapons of stone and wood, or even metal, really work against animatronics that had gone rogue? Stepping over broken wood, Eclipse picked up a very battered wooden rifle, turning it over in his hands. Broken. No trigger and the barrel had large cracks. No wonder no one took it. They tossed it aside and continued on, at times placing a hand on the wall for balance.

One of the next displays had been of various knives and swords – at least, judging from the description plaques, anyway. As expected, large sheets of glass and many thousands of sparkly, jagged shards covered the surrounding floor. This display case was mostly intact, but it slumped to one side. The case was just about picked clean. What would knives do to animatronics hellbent on ending human life? Eclipse had no idea. They grimaced at the thought, hoping that any humans who believed a tiny knife would give them… any sort of protection at least went out fast.

Climbing onto a toppled pillar, Eclipse searched for any part of the floor that wasn’t covered in broken glass when something caught their eye. They slid off the rounded pillar and carefully stepped across shards. They placed their hands on what seemed like the last, mostly unbroken display case. Half the glass front was gone, but on the other side was a very, very large sword. Eclipse was a little under 7ft tall, and looking at the sword, he guessed it had to be roughly 5 foot in length. How could humans possibly use something pretty much their height? Granted, that was probably why it was left behind, but why was something so massive even made in the first place? What a waste of steel!

It was beautiful, though. Yeah, now very dull and it could use a polish, but it was beautiful. The handle was a deep grey, almost black. Plain at a glance, but when examined more closely, there were indents, grooves with little ridges, to help keep a tight hold on the weapon. And the blade. It was so long! And while it wasn’t all that thick, it certainly wasn’t paper-thin. It could be used with force. Something like that probably would be useful against a raging animatronic. The only reasons the eclipsed bot could think of for it being left behind were how long and heavy it was, and how very blunted the edge of the blade appeared. Sharpening something that large would take time and patience. Neither of these were in big supply during the heat of an apocalypse. That and the size. A frightened human trying to wield that might have events take a bad turn.

They looked around, left and right, listening carefully. Silence. Well, other than the constant purr of their own motor functions. The abandoned museum was dark and empty.

Eclipse focused back on the large weapon, rays twitching a little. Moving past where half the glass had been removed to get to what had probably been much smaller blades, they reached in. One hand rested on the remaining glass pane, but even by leaning in and stretching their other arm out, they weren’t even close. They kept inching closer to the sword, but the jagged edges began to scrape their sensitive exposed endoskeleton.

They let out a small hiss and backed away, checking their arm and face, worried about further damage. Thankfully none. The giant, shark-toothed remaining pane of display glass might have been another reason the sword had been abandoned. Even a giant of a human would hate to cut up their arms, especially now all hope of dependable medical care had vanished.

Backing away, the bot looked around for large but lift-able chunks of rubble. He tried to pick up a fragment of a smashed pillar, but his mechanical joints protested. Eclipse let go and heaved a synthetic sigh. Rays twitched in annoyance. Trying again, he grabbed the chunk of pillar with both hands and attempted to heave it up. His mechanical joints screamed, but he didn’t quit.

Eventually he had it lifted to about knee-height. They were simulating panting, just about, fighting against their built-in limitations to lift something heavier than they were designed for.

Holding it tight against their thighs, they slowly, slowly inched closer to the large section of intact glass. They would need to throw it at the glass AND back away as fast as possible to avoid flying shards. It would be… very bad to get razor-sharp bits of glass, like tiny knives, lodged inside their joints. Or worse.  That shouldn’t be too hard…

Eclipse simulated a few deep breaths to calm any nerves and worries about things going terribly wrong.

Once close enough, he stopped and simulated a deep breath to lift the chunk of cement a little higher. Another moment of hesitation and then he shoved the large fragment forward as hard as he could. As soon as it left his hands, he jumped back, staggering a little but somehow managing not to lose balance completely.

He flinched away, arms shielding his face, just as a loud crash rang out. Followed by the extra tinkle of the rest of the glass pane peppering the floor.

Rays twitching, Eclipse lowered his arms and glanced around. Hopefully no one else heard that…

Waiting… waiting… waiting… nothing. Nothing but his own motor roaring inside him and now his cooling fans trying to calm him down. But no one heading inside to investigate the crash.

Another synthetic breath, this one coming out as more a sigh of relief.

Stepping forward, Eclipse avoided as much of the glittering danger as he could but with the fresh wreckage it was impossible to avoid it completely. Luckily he still had both shoes at least.

They reached in and pulled their new prize free from the broken shelving and piles of glass. It had some weight to it. Most likely it was solid steel. The sword was lighter than the cement, though. It took some effort, but he was able to carry it.

…

Eclipse eventually left the abandoned, broken, former museum, clutching their new weapon. They waited until they were fully and completely convinced the coast was clear outside.

…

It’d taken a while to find sharpening and polishing tools.  Weeks even. The eclipsed animatronic had to store his new sword somewhere safe until he was able to actually fix it up. The last thing he wanted was for it to be snatched from him before he could even see if it would be useful.

Finally though they did find the restoration kits they needed. At last, they came across a wrecked hardware store which still had metal files and rasps for sharpening tools, and some soft cloths for shining up silver and brass. They found a quiet safe place to get to work. They were just finishing up. He brought the gleaming blade close to his face, examining it.

“Really does look quite sharp… Now for a quick polish, to pretty you up a bit.”

As the eclipsed bot stroked and wiped the polishing cloths along the length of their new sword, they couldn’t help but admire how it shined in the dim light of the abandoned house.

Once they were finished, they carefully traced a finger along the flat surface of the blade. “Pretty...” They tilted it until they could see themselves reflected on the mirror-like surface. They quickly tilted it away again, averting their eyes. Their Sun and Moon probably wouldn’t have approved of taking such a weapon if they were still around.

It would be fine. They would use it for protection only! … Their rays retracted as far as they were able to. Their confidence in that wasn’t very strong.

Mostly for protection …maybe.

Trying to not think unpleasant thoughts of what they might be forced to do, Eclipse decided, for the moment, they were just going to admire their new beautiful sword. They turned it from side to side, watching it glisten in the low light. Beautiful. Deadly. But, beautiful.

[useless19]

So, King Boo in Days. Where to start.

When I started writing Days, I hadn't played a Luigi's Mansion game aside from a little bit of LM1 years ago before I got too scared to continue (it had ghosts!). I still liked making references here and there to the series, since it's half the reason for Luigi's characterisation being what it is these days. I've since picked up LM3 and had fun with it. Even if I don't have a proper handle on King Boo's character yet, I think I've got the rough idea.

However, my main issue with actually putting him in is that he's a final boss and I don't want to treat him as not a final boss. Equally, using him to make Luigi look tougher while weakening Bowser wasn't what I wanted to do to those characters either - any sort of curb stomp battle is not going to happen. King Boo needed to show up but not make too much of a mess because he's not part of the main plot; his appearance isn't the catalyst for Luigi and Bowser to change how they feel about each other. Trying to balance the weight of such an important character with the planned out state of the main relationship wasn't something I thought I could do justice.

That doesn't mean I don't have ideas for when he might have shown up :D

First off, somewhen around Day 24 could've been interesting. Adding him to the melting pot of Luigi in denial, Bowser coming to terms with liking Luigi more than Peach, and Peach being at the castle while trying to make plans to take back her kingdom. It would've been such a wonderful mess, but not one that I could ever have figured out how to write (especially given how long it took me to put Day 21 together). It would've derailed the plot and I would've had to have redone a lot of what I had already written for Day 27/30.

On the other hand, Day ~11 could've been very interesting. I have way more notes about how that might go down:

The scent of fresh welds mingled nostalgically with the dusty aroma of crumbled stone. Luigi hummed, satisfied with his work, as he fitted another length of pipe into place.

We open with Luigi fixing the pipework in the baths (Bowser broke some of it in Day 9 and Luigi wanted something to do while Junior was getting some lessons). The baths are also having their monthly clean out/scrub, so there's no risk of falling in boiling water or anything like that. Luigi's having polite chit-chat here and there with the cleaners until a Boo jumps out of nowhere and scares him.

Not knowing why a Boo is around, Luigi packs up his borrowed tools and heads off to ask someone what's going on (the cleaners don't know any better than him, also Luigi doesn't pick up that the Boo is similarly confused as to why Luigi is here). He tries asking a few people, but no one really knows. Eventually he reaches the throne room, where Bowser and King Boo are chatting about something. King Boo notices Luigi, tries to portraitify him, only to miss when Bowser yanks Luigi out the way with the contract warping.

Here's the tricky part, there needs to be an argument that doesn't significantly mess with the status quo. Something roughly like this:

Bowser: That's my prisoner. King Boo: That's my nemesis! [Bowser falters somewhat] Luigi: You kidnap Mario all the time, King Boo. Bowser [rallying]: Yeah, exactly! King Boo [lying through his teeth]: I would've handed him over after I'd gotten Luigi. Bowser [lying just as much]: I'll hand him over after I've gotten Mario out the way and married Peach. Luigi: ... yay.

After that, Luigi goes back to fixing the pipes, but with a guard watching him now (ostensibly to stop him escaping, he thinks it's just for show, Bowser's actually put the guard there to make sure there's at least a witness for anything King Boo might try). King Boo shows up to threaten him. During this, one of the cleaners/the guard refers to Luigi as 'Princess' (importantly this didn't happen during the previous confrontation) and King Boo finds the whole magical marriage contract hilarious. He laments that he ignored Bowser's wedding invite because it would've absolutely made his death to see Luigi get entangled in this mess.

I think it would be interesting from there to have a proper interaction between King Boo, Bowser, and Luigi. Highlighting why Bowser and King Boo are allies and don't mess with each other's plots. Possibly getting into a bit of what Bowser's marriage means on a larger political scale. Potentially touching on Luigi's fear of ghosts and him having to figure out how to explain it without insulting one or both of the kings.

But then I don't know! I don't feel like King Boo would just leave it at that. Maybe Bowser could work out a deal where King Boo helps him find something to break the contract (maybe he's the reason Bowser went looking in the Silicarid desert)? Though he wouldn't have done it for free and Bowser might have to deal with consequences shortly after letting Luigi go in Day 30 and I wouldn't want to leave that plot thread hanging (that's not going to stop Bowser from make the deal because he has never cared about potential consequences in his life).

Part of the problem is that around this time Luigi's starting to feel comfortable in the castle. Adding the vague threat of Boos showing up whenever they like is going to kneecap that. He's also still happy to make escape attempts and this could prompt one of those (which is another mess entirely that I'd want to do justice).

By this point, Bowser has definitely noticed that Luigi is his type, but hadn't reached the point of wanting a relationship rather than just sex. He's possessive anyway, so he's not going to give up his prisoner without a fight.

So, yeah. That's my King Boo in Days thoughts. Hopefully that ramble makes sense!