#glad i got this cosplay out of the way

[blaiddstoe]

“Ugh. I smell like a human.”

[astriiformes]

Comparing your work to other people's is a great way to kill your joy for a thing so let me be clear and say this is not that, I am just a human person with human emotions and sometimes that means needing to be the tiniest bit petty and then moving on. You know. For your health or something.

There is a very popular cosplayer who coincidentally keeps doing the same costumes as me, and I am just the tiniest bit annoyed about it, because as is the case with many (...most) very popular cosplayers, they have a very specific, airbrushed, conventionally attractive, perfect makeup, etc aesthetic to all their photos that is. Not what I personally value in cosplay, at least. Which is fine! Different people having different approaches to costumes is part of what makes cosplay such an interesting hobby!

But it does bother me a tiny bit that the work I put into my costumes is not necessarily the kind of work that gets attention, and it does make it a little glaringly obvious when it's The Same Characters.

(Also you all know the kinds of characters I cosplay. I gravitate towards them in part because they have weird energy, not super put together attractive energy. But that's only part of my point.)

Anyways. I do not follow them on Instagram because why would I do that, but nonetheless I saw that they're apparently also doing a Laois cosplay now, which I guarantee will get lots more attention than mine. And for the most part that's fine, I love cosplay and I love doing my weird little thing and I especially love that I do in fact know other people that value the same things as me & that we have fun together. I will have a great time in my fun little costume, dressing up with my friends in their fun little costumes and I am looking forward to it. And I do not actually need likes to validate that I am becoming a pretty damn good cosplayer (whose stuff is better quality than many popular cosplayers' because I care more about craftsmanship than I do getting attention). I am even thinking pretty seriously about having Laois be my first ever competition costume if the armor turns out alright, because I think I'm genuinely getting to that level.

But it would just be kind of neat if being a weird little guy with weird little ideas who is into the hobby because I like sourcing historical patterns and materials and thinking about the worldbuilding that goes into costumes and creating neat little "in-universe" ephemera to hand out to people and all the things I like didn't always mean getting overshadowed by Instagram Perfect Attractive People.

Alas. Okay glad that's out of my system I'm normal again. I'm going to make some more chain mail.

[kudravi-nesit]

Me: "Boy, oh boy! Now that I have my own sewing machine, I can make my own clothes! Surely it will cost me less than buying something from a clothing store!"

Fabric pricing:

[l0ganberry]

UPDATE ON THE WARLOCK STAFF (PART 2.5)

I was meant to do the "rainbow" fabric but I got stumped when I remembered that I didn't had any fabric to do that. Specifically thin ribbon-like cloth that would be wrapped around the staff, below the crystal.

To solve that, I decided to do some online shopping on Etsy to get the things I needed.

This is ribbon I ended up buying for the "rainbow fabric". (I'm gonna paint it with the fabric paint I already have.)

I got red LED lights for the crystal. (I haven't decided on how I'm gonna do the crystal. 3D printing is not my thing but I have been thinking of just doing moldable plastic? Maybe???? I might need some help on what to do to make my own crystal that looks like that.)

Then lastly (and for fun) I got the last of this type of yarn for the base of the crystal. So that way there's visual texture to make it look really cool.

[emmaspolaroid]

I’m taking a break today. today is for fandom and movies and skincare.

[mandarinmoons]

Hi! So what about BAU!Reader and Spencer are fresh into their relationship. Like weeks into it. Reader is just as shy and nerdy as Spencer was in early seasons. (This can be any season of Spencer) anyways it’s Spencer’s birthday and Spencer begs reader to not buy anything for him so instead she knits him a replica of Dr. Who scarf because she remembers him mentioning to Garcia he was trying to find the perfect replica for his Dr. Who cosplay (7x23 when Garcia and Spencer go to that convention) so reader, who never watched it before, watches the entire series while knitting the scarf bc she knows how much Spencer loves Dr. Who and she wanted to understand his interests more. Maybe she makes herself a matching scarf or hand warmers in the process. And then she’s like “I have a ton of questions about the series though” and pulls out a notebook of her questions as she’s asking them Spencer realizes she’s THE ONE and it’s all just fluff and two nerds in love 🥰

I've never consumed any content about Doctor Who so I'm sorry if this is a bit vague BUT the idea was so cute so I had to give it a shot x

You and Spencer were both nerds, it’s what drew you two together and keeps you both joined at the hip. Even though you two had been together for less than eight weeks, both of you had your eyes on one another for a good while. When mutual feelings were finally admitted the only thing different from before was that you got to hold hands and kiss each other on the cheek comfortably without having to worry if it’ll make the other person uncomfortable.

Spencer’s birthday was coming up and with Spencer being the way that he is, he was adamant about not letting you splurge on his big day. You were a bit annoyed by it because a part of you did want to go out and treat your special boy the way he deserved to be treated. However, you did not want to argue with him so you decided to get a bit creative.

Long before the relationship had been established, Spencer had talked about how he was searching for a replica of the Doctor Who scarf for his cosplay. Knitting was something you had learned before, although it had been quite a few years since you last picked it up, you decided to try it out again and hopefully make Spencer’s face gleam with joy.

After digging out your old knitting needles and yarn you looked up some tutorials online to familiarize yourself with your old hobbie. A few hours and some messy pathworks later, you managed to remind yourself of how everything went down and began work on the scarf. Luckily the pattern wasn’t difficult at all and as you began working away you thought about looking up the show and getting a feel for what Spencer talks about all the time.

After many weeks and countless trips to the store to get more yarn the scarf was finished and you were both excited and nervous to hand it over to Spencer. A million thoughts ran in your head as he undid the bow on the carefully packed present and removed the scarf from the paper, his eyes went wide and he was speechless for a whole minute.

“Y/N, how did you…”

“Surprise?” you chuckled and Spencer was still speechless, he ran his thumbs over the carefully knitted garment. He wrapped it over his neck and walked over to the mirror to have a closer look, his heart was melting over how you took so much time and effort to make him this. He walked over to you and placed his arms around you in a bone crushing hug which only made you laugh.

“I’m so glad you like it.”

“Like it? That doesn’t even come close to how I feel about it, I love it.”

Spencer held your cheeks as he kissed you and as you parted a thought came to your mind.

“Oh also, I watched a bit of the show!”

“Really? Did you like it?”

“Mhm, I have a few questions though, firstly…”

As you went on about your questions regarding the show Spencer stared at you while a smile crept on his face. He loved how you took interest in anything he was fascinated in, and in return he would do it with your interests as well, it was one of the ways you both showed love to one another.

Spencer guided you back to the couch, pulling you to his lap as he cleared his throat and explaining the questions you just layed out for him. You looked up at him and nodded along as he got into the topic and you were reminded of one of the reasons why you fell for him in the first place, his passion, and that same passion grew now that he had someone like you in his life.

Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @sp3ncelle @iluvreid @khxna @keiva1000 @reidstheyfriend @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden

If you want to be a part of my taglist go here!

You can find my masterlist here!

My requests are open so feel free to send one in! (SFW only)

[stinmybubs]

“Rot my brain.”

Roommate B. Katsuki in love with a girl whose addicted to video games.

B. Katsuki x AFAB! Reader

Bakugou never understood why you were so glued to your PC or any console you could get your little hands on. Sitting there for hours and hours playing brain rotting video games.

It pissed him the fuck off.

You barley left your room other to use the bathroom, shower, eat, and clean out your room. He was a bit glad you were a clean type of gamer instead of a stinky messy one.

Random packages you’d order always piling up at the door, he almost tripped over them when he had to leave for work. How the fuck were you able to afford so much shit without a job?

He would make dinner in hopes you would eat with him, but of course you always ate ramen or some sort of frozen meal before he even got home.

He felt as if he was living alone with some girl coming and going at random times, he barley saw you. Which he should be thankful for, but he was head over heels for you, why? He doesn’t even know.

Maybe it was the time you helped him back in the apartment when he was drunk, letting him rant to you on your shared couch before you slipped away to your cave.

Or the time he accidentally walked in on you cosplaying a character in a skimpy outfit, taking pictures of yourself in lewd positions before you screamed at him to get out of your room.

Or maybe it was the little conversations you two would have at the most unexpected times. The conversations that made it seem you two knew each other for a life time.

He had to find out what the hype was about, so he barged into your room while you were playing a very competitive game. Clearly you didn’t notice his hand placed on the back of your chair as he hovered over you.

He didn’t know what game you were playing, it was a first person shooter so it could honestly be any game in the world.

“One flank.” You speaking spooked him a bit, he hasn’t seen you so focused on something ever.

Soon the game ended, with him sitting there next to you the whole time. You took of your headphones, letting them slide down your neck while you leaned back in your chair with a long sigh. “I’m loosing my mind…” turning to grab your water you jump in fear at the man sitting next to you.

“HOLY SHIT BAKUGOU!” You scream, leaning so back your chair almost falls backwards but Katsuki was quick enough to catch you.

“What the fuck are you doing in here!? When did you even get in??”

“I jst’ wanted to see what the hype was all about. You’re always in your room playin this shit.”

“Oh…uh, I don’t know why I’m so into this game, it makes me so fucking mad I hate it so much.”

“Then why do ya’ keep playin it.”

“Cuz it’s fun.”

Katsuki just looked at you like you said the most dumbest shit he’s ever heard. Which made you burst into laughter.

“Here I’ll teach you how to play! And maybe you could be my duo!” You cheered letting him take your spot in your chair.

After that day Katsuki played with you whenever had had free time, forcing you to eat dinner with him outside your room and stop eating all that processed shit you always ate.

This way you two got closer, he of course didn’t play all the time since he didn’t want his brain to rot and he had a full time job. So he stopped to watch you in your room, hanging out on your bed watching you closely. Probably making fun of your plays too.

You ended up opening up to katsuki, getting out of your room more whenever he got home, you at the door greeting him was always the best part of his day. He loved having movie night with you, he never shows it but he was just so happy to be closer to you.

Sooner or later, you two were more than just roommates.

AN: school is kicking my butt cuz of graduation. I am trying to finish all my 100 follower specials!

(;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`)

[rae-writes]

dirty secret(s)

Levi x cam!reader

wc : 0.7k

warnings : nsfw

synopsis : Levi had a dirty secret. You had an even dirtier one.

a/n : honestly don't know how this thought popped into my head but my gods am I fucking glad it did-

While Levi usually thought of himself as scum of the Devildom at most normal hours of the day, he thought he was even scummier when he locked himself in his room, headphones pressed snugly against his ears, with his sweatpants kicked off to the floor. 

The slick sounds filling his ears were absolutely vile— in the best kind of way. Plastered over his main monitor, lighting up his flushed and sweaty face, was the sight of someone bouncing on a pretty dragon dildo; it’d become his guilty pleasure to get on the site and watch them get off- someone he found by complete accident as he was scrolling online. 

The only thing he knew about them was they never showed their face, they always had a blank black sheet as a background, and they never talked. 

But it didn’t really matter when he was fisting his cock at the pace they were riding their toy, biting down on his tongue harshly to hide his moans when they came, forcing him to paint his abdomen white as he came right after. 

No, it didn’t really matter— especially when it was just Levi’s dirty secret. 

Until it wasn’t. 

You weren’t supposed to swing by his room that day, but you had some time and thought it would be best spent with Levi- only he wasn’t in his room. 

The only active sound that had been in his room was the whirring of his desktop. You only meant to shut it off- you weren’t supposed to see the way the screen lit back up with the sight of someone bent over, faux cum spilling out of their hole. 

You weren’t supposed to find out his dirty secret— but you did. And it became your dirtier secret.

Because the person on the video was you. 

It started off as a joke- just a little bet you lost with Asmo. When your first video got so much attention, you curiously did another, just to see what would happen; the money sent in as tips and donations made you make another video, and then another, and another. 

After a while, you spiffed up your page and made it all pretty and official— it became fun. Alluring. 

And then you found out Levi was watching and it changed everything. Suddenly, there was a particular heat constantly pooling in your stomach that wouldn't go away and your videos became centered around what you thought Levi would like. 

He was none the wiser. 

He didn’t suspect a single thing, not even when his favorite (and only) porn creator began making videos in anime cosplay of his favorite characters or began using tentacle related toys instead or made videos of them trying to not cum while they played his favorite video games. 

It all flew right over Levi’s head— right up until their latest video, posted only a few seconds ago. 

For the first time ever, they weren’t using a black backdrop. It was eye-catching— dark, but with bright leds. The shimmer of what seemed to be water washed over their bare lower half as high-pitched moans left them, hand desperately shoving a new toy in and out of their hole; it was another ‘tentacle’ but it was plain, dark colored, with scales carved in to create ridges for extra friction. 

The more he hyper fixated on them, the more things he started to notice: their toy kind of looked like his tail, the lighting looked exactly like his room’s, and the hoodie they wore…

With a choked moan, Levi’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull as he finally realizes he’s watching you— you in his room with his hoodie on, getting off on a toy that was meant to replicate his tail. 

And as the increase of your moans flowed through his headphones, getting louder and whinier until you were cumming with a choked cry of what could’ve been his name had you been just a little bit louder, Levi was practically sprinting through the halls of the house before slamming open the door to his room. 

And there you were, phone tossed aside on his bed as you laid back on his pillows with your legs spread and shiny with your cum, toy tossed aside to the ground. 

“Was waiting for you to figure it out...wanna feel the real thing, Levi…come play with me?”

[cutiecusp]

Viral.

What happens when a simple scroll on TikTok leads you to something unexpected?

a/n i wrote this at 3 a.m. today, and after a little adjusting, I'm happy with it. I love the idea of a confident Simon Riley, using his Ghost persona to satisfy a little fantasy or two. Especially if he got to know you, the newest recruit a little better.

TW/ Kissing, smut so MDNI!

Lying on your bunk after a long day, you find yourself doom scrolling on TikTok, navigating your way through recipes, cat videos and pranks, when a biker in a black leather jacket and dark helmet catches your eye.

As usual, the comments are full of thirst posts, proclamations of marriage, one night stands and more. You raise an eyebrow at some of them, incredulous at some others.

He was simply putting his gloves on, while straddling his bike, his visor flipped down, adding to the mystery. The Sleep Token song that played over it fully caught your attention.

The filter over the video made the skeleton print of his gloves stand out against the dark of the leather... very similar to the gloves your lieutenant wears.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you zoom in on his body, looking for something that could identify him more, and you spot it, a small Soap charm on his laces, one you all collected after London.

Your eyes widen.

This man doing thirst traps on BikeTok was your boss.

You refresh the page, and hide your face in your sleeve. How could you act normal around him now?

A live notification pops up at the top of your screen, and shakily you click on it.

There he is, Simon Riley.

All black leather and mystery as he leans into the shot. He has a mic tagged in his collar, and you would know that voice anywhere.

He's outside on the airstrip of the base, you knew he liked to ride out there between deployments, normally kept himself to himself, but now you knew better.

His voice rang out clear, and you almost dropped your phone.

"Welcome in Nya, hello again gorgeous Dolly, Hey Cosplay Queen.."

He pauses, his head tilted.

"We have a new member, hello you." His voice rich, like honey, travelled down your spine.

"Glad to have you here, first times are awkward, I'll be gentle." he teases, watching the hearts collect in the corner of the screen.

By this point you have a death grip on your phone, too stunned to speak. Did he know it was you, you?

You throw out a heart emoji, hoping to blend in a little. You eyes glued to the screen. He was so different to his work version. He was relaxed, cocky, funny... Not the cold and distant lieutenant.

The live goes on for a few minutes, before he logs off for the night. Blowing a kiss, the screen goes black, and you blink again. What on earth was happening?

You put your phone down and begin to get ready for the night, shaking off the imaginary lust dust that flittered over you. Urging yourself to breathe, and not think about the fact your boss was turning you on.

You heart bobbed in the back of your throat when you heard Simons bike return to the barracks, the headlight shining bright in the darkness.

You hold your breath as you hear his footsteps along the corridor, the squeak of the leather and metallic zip undoing are the loudest noises on base. You squeeze your eyes shut as the heavy footsteps stall outside of your door.

Three knocks ring out, forcing your eyes open. He knows. You think to yourself.

You force yourself on jelly legs to answer the door, a smile that doesn't quite meet your eyes.

"Ghost, you okay?" You stammer out, mentally kicking yourself for sounding so obvious.

"You tell me, love." He says gruffly, forcing his way into the room, placing his helmet on your desk.

You squeak at the same time he spots your phone, your screen still open on his page.

"Naughty little thing, aren't you. Thirsting over your boss on TikTok what does it for you, love? The bike, the helmet, the appeal?"

your cheeks redden, and he steps closer to you, closing the gap between you both. Gripping your chin with his fingers, he forces you to look at him.

"Not a word to anyone else, love."

Eyes wide, you nod.

And he presses his lips to yours softly, sealing your secret.

........................................................................................

@xoxunhinged @muneca-lemon-steppa @livingoutsidethetardis @gardenof-venus @misshugs @soraya-daydreams @frudoo @azxulaa @yesornowaitidontknow @enjisbf @thevoiceinyourheadx @shadowdark00 @rynbeerose @lunamoonbby @incredible-walker @identity2212 @pukbadger @urbimom @corvid007 @wordsfromshona @shadows-empress @m00xy @canyonmooncreations @evie-119 @cmbghost @midwesternwitchery

[just-some-random-blogger]

Accidental Targ

Scene II: he kinda looks like my ex boyfriend | Masterlist

Daemon Targaryen x Modern!Reader

Summary: After coming to terms with the fact you were in King's Landing some two thousand years before your birth, you get reunited with your friend and try to manifest your way back to the present. For the meantime, Harwin Strong is your bodyguard.

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: fem!reader, time travel au, descriptions of reader's hair, incestuous gremlin!daemon, generally gross!daemon, harwin 'big daddy' strong, crackfic, typos, etc.

A/N: Following the events of our mighty poll 😁😁😁😁 im excited to say what won was was always my intention and im glad you lovely readers have synced with me on it BWHWAHA sorrows sorrows prayers

"Fucking Seven," I sigh and gather my thick skirts, running up to the blue haired girl. The servant who escorted her promptly curtsies then walks away. I release the fabrics to grasp her face. I sigh in relief, "thank the gods you're here, Libby."

"What the fuck are you wearing?" she asks groggily, eyeing my dress.

I shake my head, "fuck, shit, I mean Lilibet."

"And how did you braid your hai-" Libby speaks the same time as me before freezing and raising a finger, "fuck you."

I growl and grab her hand, "no, no, no. Listen to me," I push her hand down, "you remember running through that damned arch?"

Libby wrangles out of my clutch and rather exasperatedly glares at me, "what?"

I release a shudder then grab her face again, "listen to me, Libby!" I sigh, "remember that stupid urban legend?"

Libby's face contorts as she groans. She pushes my hands off her à la 5-year-old tantrum; her blue hair, in turn, flies to her face.

"We crossed that arch," I grab her arms, "and now we're in fucking first century Westeros, Libby," I hiss, pulling her to the bed, "which is why I have to call you Lilibet-"

"Fuck you."

"-and you have to change and cover your hair," I release her to grab the clothing on the sheets, shoving them into her chest.

"What ABOUT my hair!"

I shake my head, "it's a dead giveaw-"

"You're closer to dead. You look like a fucking grandma and you have problems with my hair?!" Libby throws the clothes back on the bed, "listen, I know I got wasted and shit, and I'm sorry, but if you want me to cosplay as a peasant, just say that and get me coffee, please-"

"LIBBY!"

Libby's ear's ring, "bitch, the fu-"

"THERE IS NO COFFEE!" I grab her arms and shake her, "we're being held hostage by Daemon Targaryen and this hair," I manically point to my head, "is our fucking lifeline!"

Libby's face pinches, the initial grogginess in her expression is expelled, "Ok, calm your tits, YN-wannabe. I told you reading fics of him would fuck with your head. Imagine reading fics about King fucking Charles-"

"IT'S NOT THE SAME!"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S NOT THE SAME?! IT'S FUCKING WORS-"

"THAT'S NOT THE POINT, LIBBY!"

"HE'S THE COLONIZER OF COLONIZERS!"

"IT'S NOT A FANFIC!" I pinch my fingers together, "THIS IS NOT A FANFIC! I AM telling you we fucking crossed that arch and now we're FUCKING-"

My words cease when a creaking sound of the heavy door fills the room. The both of us turn to the door as it opens. My heart begin to race.

Lo and behold, Daemon Targaryen walks in, one hand on his hilt, eyes looking us both up and down. Libby shifts in her spot as Daemon approaches. Her demeanor immediately changes when she sees him. She straightens up and pushes her hair back, dusting off her hot pink top. Aint no way.

"Do I look good?" Libby mutters to me before Daemon is in front of us. My eyes blow wide and my jaw slacks. Be so fucking for real. She fixes her radioactive blue hair and my upper lip curls in disgust and annoyance.

Libby and Daemon lock gazes; the former smirks, "hey, cutie pie."

I slap my hand to my face. The sound reverberates in the room.

"What is a cutie pie?" Daemon asks stoically.

Libby leans on one leg, "you."

"Seven fucking hells," I quip, roughly dragging my palm down my skin.

Daemon turns to me before tilting his head. He mirrors Libby's stance and his lips faintly curve upward, "in this era, girl, pies are food. What would I have in common with a type of pie?"

Libby lets out an airy chuckle, "you ren fair boys really like roleplay, huh?"

Daemon raises a brow, "I assure you, nothing about me is boyish."

Libby bites her lip and claws the air, "rawr."

I am unable to mask the sound I make. Daemon pulls his head back at Libby's actions.

I grit my teeth and grab her arm; she shakes me off, making sure to giggle as she does this. Daemon chuckles as he turns to me, "I see why you are keen on keeping her."

"You can keep me if you like," she blurts, stepping in front of me to garner his attention. Daemon steps back.

I grab Libby's arm again. This time, with much force that the ends of my hair whip around. I whisper-yell, "you do know that is Daemon Targaryen, right?"

Libby barely turns to me as she mutters, "what?"

"You're flirting with the Daemon Targaryen," I sneer, "first of his name," I lean in and whisper, "manwhore."

Libby looks at me from over her shoulder to me then back to Daemon, "ahhhh. A cosplayer."

"Libby, I swear to g-"

"It's pretty good," she crosses her arms then points, "is that a wig or hair dye?"

Daemon furrows his brows, face contorting at her words.

My eyes widen and suddenly the silver hair on my scalp itches like it doesn't belong to me. Well, see-- it doesn't! Not in a way that counts to the incestuous gremlin!

From the way his composure tightens, I could tell he was no longer amused. I yank Libby back, shooting her a glare, "literally shut the fuck up."

She scowls at my pressed tone, "what? I was just asking-"

"Hair dye?" Daemon blurts way too loud, shutting us both up.

We turn to him as he looks between us. He tilts his head and adjusts his grip on his sword. He straightens his posture. In that moment, his expression was changed dramatically. He reaches out for Libby's hair, inspecting it in his hand. His violet eyes dart to hers, "so, your hair is blue because of dye?"

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, fuck.

I grab Libby's hand before she can think of saying some bullshit. She does not move a muscle as I squeeze her palm.

Daemon raises his brows impatiently.

"What?" she mumbles.

I clench my jaw at her ditzy response.

Daemon narrows his eyes, "are you so dimwitted not to understand me the first time?

Fucking fuck. A shiver runs down my spine. Libby raises her brows and turns to me as I stare at Daemon. I blurt, "it is a right of passage for her family."

Daemon eyes me hotly.

I release Libby's hand and scramble to the bed where my clothes were folded into a small sack. I go through my things and pull out my phone, opening my gallery, showing Daemon a photo of Libby and our friends with bright colored hair. I lie, "these are her cousins."

Daemon pulls his head back at the sight of the photo on my phone; it was the exact reaction he had when I showed him a screenshot of the maps of this very place.

Libby blinks rapidly as Daemon comes to my side. The man basically breathes down my neck as he looks a the screen like a boomer. He narrows his eyes and pulls back his chin.

I point to Sandra, who had pink hair, "they do this to... commemorate the war-- of their people."

Daemon looks at Libby again, seemingly expecting more of an explanation. I look at Daemon and begin to panic at the aloof expression Libby held. I place my hand on his arm and rub it gently. Thankfully, he's still a simple man and it seems to diffuse his unbelieving demeanor, "it's hard for her to talk about. It was a war over dye and trading. A lot of her family... were casualties."

Fuck. WELL, real wars have been fought for WAAAY less.

Daemon turns to me, "I find it hard to believe such traditions exist two thousand years from now."

"And yet," I wave my phone, "you could not also believe you were listening to music with me moments ago."

He hums and turns back to Libby. He nods, "well, have her dress," he turns back to me, "I want to break fast with you before the tourney, dragonling."

I nod rapidly. Daemon gives a smile and heads for the door, "you remember your way to the solar?"

"I do."

He eyes Libby as he walks off then turns to me, "very good."

The moment the door closes, Libby explodes, "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!

"WE'RE IN FUCKING FIRST CENTURY WESTEROS," I whisper-yell, "now keep your voice down, you stupid fucking bitch, and change!"

It took me explaining everything that happened in detail as she got in her dress AND getting lost in the fucking castle then actually finding our way to the solar for Libby to believe I wasn't playing the most elaborate prank on her.

And when we got there, a servant informed us that the prince had been summoned by the king and that we should eat by ourselves.

Libby and I sit across each other. We decide to forfeit the fact the food could be poisoned because we were way too hungry not too eat. This blue haired rat, however, couldn't fucking stop saying the food could use salt and pepper. We were mortified when a servant came to us with a mortar of just that.

Before we could even say thank you, she runs off.

I snap at Libby, who scratches her headscarf for the nth time, "do you fucking understand you're a terrifying aristocrat right now?!"

"I'M SORRY!" Libby makes a repentant expression.

"You should be!"

"It's just that everything is fucking boiled and-"

The sound of the door opening ends Libby's yapping. We both snap to see who was entering.

In walks the dark haired man from the night before. Gold cloak, armor, and all. He steps in front of us and bows, "good morn."

"Hubba hubba," Libby tucks imaginary hair behind her ear.

"Fucking," I snap to her, "stop."

I look back at the man trying to remember his name, I can't seem to.

"Wait! Is this the madly good looking guard you were talking about?!" Libby speaks WAY to loud for a conversation between two people across each other.

The man makes a sound as he wipes his lips. My eyes widen and I sink in my chair.

"You clearly have a type," Libby mutters as she unabashedly eyes him. He is undeterred. She tilts her head, "he looks like your ex."

I snap back at her, "w h a t?"

"Or I mean he would look like him," she points her thumb, "if he wasn't so whiny, short, and pathetic," Libby turns to me.

"He literally looks nothing like Jon."

"He does!" she leans in, "dark curls, thick brows!"

I shove a bread roll into her mouth.

"Prince Daemon tasked me to be your chaperone for the day," he says, clutching his hand in front of him.

"I've always wanted a hot bodyguard," Libby smiles and leans back on her chair, "well, don't just stand there," she beckons him, "come join us for breakfast."

I pretend to fix my silver hair as I clear my throat, "breaking fast."

"Breaking fast," Libby corrects with a grin, "and what was your name again, pretty boy?"

I groan as I shove a bread roll into my mouth.

"Harwin Strong, my lady," Harwin mutters with another respectful nod, turning to me, "and please, forgive me for last night's encounter, Lady Gryffindor."

Libby titters and slaps her hand on her mouth.

"If I came off as impertinent or-"

"No, please, sir Strong," I raise a hand to him, "you were doing your job-- I mean your duty. Nothing needs to be forgiven."

"By the way," Libby raises a finger, "I'm Lady Hufflepuff and I would love it if you sat down next to me."

Harwin turns to Libby and I resist the urge to facepalm. My face twitches and I watch as Harwin shifts in his spot. I blurt, "you can call her Lilibet."

"Fuck you," Libby snaps.

I snap back, "well, that is your name, is it not?"

"I'm not entering my nun era."

I make a throaty sound and grab a goblet, "clearly," I take a sip, "but with that getup-"

"Hey!" Libby bangs on the table, "you're the one who made my cunt levels drop with this milkmaid outfit."

Harwin begins to cough.

"What? Like I chose that for you?"

"No," she props her elbow on the table, "but Daemon gave you a city girl-"

"Prince Daemon."

"-outfit and he made me look like your ugly handmaiden."

"Again," I brush my platinum hair out of my face, "that wasn't my choice, Lilibet."

"My ladies-" Harwin interjects, making us both turn to him. He clears his throat and offers pinched smile, "I am honored by the invitation, but I will stand watch out-"

"Oh, don't be rude and just sit down already," Libby presses with a playful look, "there's way more food than the two of us can eat."

And though she was correct, I kick her underneath the table.

Libby yelps and eyes me. I dodge her when she kicks me back.

"I don't think it appropri-"

"Nonsense!" Libby calls, turning back to Harwin as she fails to kick me again, "please, just join us."

"LILIBET!" I whisper-yell.

"UGH!" she turns to me with disgust and whisper-yells back, "stop fucking calling-"

"You do know he could literally be like your great-great-great-great-"

She raises a hand and cuts me off with a guttural groan, "oh miss me with that bullshit! You're LITERALLY a Targaryen!"

"I will wait outside," the man calls, making us turn to him.

Harwin walks off and Libby raises the bowl of bread rolls, "THE BREAD ROLLS ARE ACTUALLY REALLY NICE THOUGH!"

I wipe my face, "Libby, we're going to fucking die."

"Not before I try myself some Harwin Strong."

"SIT BACK DOWN."

"I'M SAT!"

When we finished eating, Harwin escorted us to the arena to watch the tourney.

"Are you married, Harwin? Can I call you Harwin?" Libby asks.

I shoot her a look, "Lilibet."

Libby ignores me. The man we were following keeps walking, not bothering to look back at us, "you may call me whatever you like, my lady."

Libby and I turn to each other with a gasp. No, cause why he playing like that?

"And I am not married," he looks over his shoulder, eyes locking with mine momentarily.

Libby's jaw drops and begins to shake me. She mutters loudly under her breath, "bitch. why he looking at you, and not at me?"

"Probably because you're fucking stupid!" I retort quickly in the same manner, unable to mask my giddy tone.

Harwin clears his throat again as he looks front. Neither of us catch this.

"Libby, be so fucking real though," I grab her arm and whisper, "that's someone's grandpa."

"Yeah, well, today, he's my daddy," she mumbles then bites her lips, as if it could minimize her grin.

Harwin makes a face and whispers under his breath, "daddy?"

When we get to the arena, the sound of the cheering crowds make both of us excited, up until someone screamed in terror and the crowds continued cheering anyway. Harwin gave us spots quite near the front, and the sight of the horses and their long-ass sticks left me feeling uneasy.

Libby shoves into me as she points to the far right. I, in turn, collide into Harwin's bulky armor. Before I can apologize for it, she squeals, "LOOK, IT'S DAEMON!"

"Libby, he's the prince!"

"TAKE A PHOTO! He looks so good!"

I give her a look as I straighten up, "girl, shut the fuck up."

Without another thought, she pulls out her phone from her bosom and wipes the moisture off the screen.

Harwin looks away, eyes wide, pretending he did not just see that happen.

"Stop it! You have no idea how bad this could-"

"Oh, shut up, you showed Daemon your phone!" Libby makes a face.

"THAT'S BECAUSE HE WOULDN'T LET ME GET REUNITED WITH YOU IF I DIDN'T CONVINCE HIM I WAS FROM-."

"Shush," she opens her camera and begins to take photos of Daemon. She shouts his name along with the other spectators and I beg her to at least call him prince.

"What is that contraption," Harwin asks, eyes glued on Libby's cracked screen.

I turn to Harwin, to Libby's phone, back to him, "it's, err... an image capturing... box."

Harwin nods at me though his face is visibly confused. He furrows his brows as Libby switches to front cam and puckers her lips out, "SAY CHEESE, DADDY!"

The color in Harwin's face drains when he sees himself on the screen. I clutch his arm and give him a look, "it's okay. It's not dangerous."

"Will it capture my image?" he mutters and covers his face. He mutters under his breath, "I'd like to keep my face."

Fuck. "N-not like that. It's... it's not black magic."

All the while, Libby is pressing the buttons on her phone, rapidly taking photos no one asked for.

A few people around us begin to mutter to themselves. I find myself looking over my shoulder, catching a bunch of men staring right at us. I eye Libby, nonverbally telling her to quit it. She gives me a look and snaps a few more pics of Daemon before shoving her phone back in her cleavage.

I release a breath when she does, that, and ser Harwin's arm that I did not realize I was still latched on to. I offer a look, "sor- apologies."

He nods, "all is well, my Lady."

And yeah sure, maybe it was. Maybe all was well. Daemon was winning the tournament-- or tourney, I guess; I have no idea what the difference was. I mean I could barely watch because they were fucking gladiator-ing each other, but I knew he was winning because after every crash, came a trumpet and the announcement of it.

So yeah. Maybe it was fine then, in its own sick way, but then Libby pulled me by the arm and said, "I have to take a shit."

"What?"

She gives me a look, "I need to take a shit."

"Libby," my eyes widen.

"I know!" she grabs my shoulders as the crowd cheers over whatever barbaric brawl was happening this time, "you think I want to know what their loos look like?" she shakes me, "am I going to have to shit in a river?"

I wipe my face and turn over to Harwin. His eyes turn from the match to me when I pull at his cloak, "mmm.... Lilibet has to... ... to poop."

Libby slaps my arm. I turn to her, frazzled. She hisses, "he doesn't know what poop is."

"You think I don't know that?!"

"I beg your pardon, my lady?" Harwin shifts to us, his thick brows knitting.

"Yeah, one second," I raise a finger at him, looking back at Libby, "I don't fucking remember the word."

Libby sighs, "Just tell him I need to sh- I NEED TO SH-"

I slap my hand on her mouth, "QUIT IT!"

Libby pushes my hand off, "WHAT?!"

"HE'S NOT GONNA KNOW WHAT THAT-"

"EVERYONE FUCKING KNOWS WHAT TAKING A SH-"

"NO, THERE'S A TERM THAT THEY USE! Think about it! Have you never watched a BBC period drama?!"

"BITCH, YOU KNOW I ONLY WATCH NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC!"

"OK, THEN THINK OF WHAT DAVID ATTENBOROUGH SAYS WHEN THE ANIMALS ARE POOPI-"

"DO YOU GENUNINELY BELIEVE THEY SHOW FOOTAGE OF ANIMALS POOPING ON TELEVISION?!"

"I DON'T FUCKING KNOW. IN ALL TV HISTORY THERE HAS TO BE AT LEAST ONE TIME WHERE-"

"HARWIN," Libby shoves me to the side and grabs the man, "I HAVE TO SHIT."

Seven father fucking hells. I dig my fingers into the roots of my light hair and to Harwin, whose lips part and brows furrow. He nods, "I will lead you to the privy," he turns to me, "stay here in the meantime."

We both nod. Libby walks to Harwin's and makes a face at me, "they call it a privy on the BBC, do they? Sounds like an office."

"Libby- Just- if push comes to shove, tell him you'll shit in the river."

Libby groans as Harwin leads her off. She shoots me a glare, "I am not shitting in a river with Harwin watching!"

I shriek in shock when there is a loud crashing sound. My hands dart to my ears just as the crowd roars. A loud voice announces the victory of Prince Daemon from House Targaryen.

I drag my hands down my cheek and clutch my chest.

I dare to look at the casualties on the playing grounds, but to my horror, I see something far worse. Daemon's horse is galloping over to me. He rips his helmet off, tosses it, and sighs through a grin. He points his stick to me and loudly calls, "might a fair woman like you reward me something sweet?"

My eyes widen and I feel the entire stadium turn to me. My heart races and my jaw loosens inch by inch.

Daemon shoves his stick to the side and reaches his arms out to me, "a kiss perhaps?"

Rat, I wasn't even watching you play. Why should I reward you for winning a game I didn't watch?

I cannot help the sound that leaves me when the other audience members begin to spur me on and nudge me. Fuck. I hate peer pressure. I walk towards the railing and eye Daemon as if I had laser vision.

"I CANNOT REACH YOU!" I scream back, momentarily shocked by the ferocity and fury of my voice. I gulp and clear my throat, rubbing my neck that I would so like to keep. I raise my hands, "I must then stay here!"

Daemon, face shining with sweat, colored with dirt and blood, beams as he looks up. He chuckles and dismounts his steed. He walks closer to me and begins to remove his armor, "then come down to me, woman!"

The crowd loses it. The women around me scream that I should come down to him.

Maybe if I jump head first, I'll be done with all this bother.

Fuck, but then Libby would be all alone.

I groan under my breath, "fucking Libby. This is all her fucking fault!"

I look back at Daemon, who had two men helping him out of his armor at this point. His eyes are on me; they probably didn't leave. His lips are curved higher, "fear not," he smirks deeper, "did I swear to protect you?"

The crowd is feral. I glance around the place. Isn't the fucking king right there?!

"No!" I look down at him and shake my head, "you swore not to harm us!"

Daemon laughs, "is there a difference?"

"YES!" I blurt, eyes wide.

Daemon stands alone bellow me, free of his upper body armor. He raises his hands up to me, "then believe me when I say you will not be harmed when you jump."

"Oh gods," I grip the railing and screw my eyes shut, "I fucking hate this man."

"Will you make all of King's Landing wait days for you, girl?"

I growl as the people around me continue to pressure me to jump. Had there not been people around, maybe I would have spit at him. And yet - I climb the railing - I am nothing against peer pressure.

Daemon steps forward, arms higher, laugh louder.

The stadium gasps while heart leaps into my mouth when I let go of the railing and drop straight down. The collision is just as messy as I had dreaded it to be and the next thing I know, I've smack dabbed atop the fucking prince of the realm, crushing into the fucking dirt. So much for catching me.

Yet somehow, Daemon manages to let out giggles while the crowd cheers. His arms tighten around me as I push myself up on his chest, "my," he blows silver hair out of his face, "I didn't actually think you'd do it."

"Fuck you," I snap and shove myself off him.

I don't even know where I'm even going, but I storm off anyway, feeling like the biggest idiot in the known galaxy.

But of course, Daemon is quick to get up and grab my arm. He speaks some High Valyrian bullshit, but I care little for it and pry my limb out of his clutch.

It seemed that was the wrong course of action though, cause the next thing I knew, he grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder. The audience flourishes over the way he took me like a piece of meat.

I fucking hate it here.

Make no mistake, I did my due diligence and tried to wrangle out of his grip. But he was pumped with far too much adrenaline, and his inflated ego would not let him let me go.

Eventually, I got tired and just let it happen. The moment he put me down when we arrived at his chambers though, I shoved him off and distanced myself as much as I could, "what the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Daemon responds in High Valyrian, which effectively pisses me off more.

"I don't have TIME to decode your dragon-heir bullshit, so quit it! I am not a toy!"

Daemon chuckles as he takes a towel and wipes his face, "no?"

"Look," I snap, "I know you're, like, touch deprived and emotionally constipated," I stretch my arm out, "I mean, your family-- our family is a fucking wreath, so you're bound to be fucked up in the head, but please," I press my palms together, "PLEASE just be normal until the end of the day, Dae- Prince Daemon."

Daemon laughs as I go off on him. He watches me for a moment, throws the towel to his bed, and tilts his head.

My chest heaves as we stare at each other. Instead of relaxing, I begin to grow more tense with every passing second. I take a deep breath, but it does nothing for my nerves when Daemon walks forward.

"The truth in the matter is," he raises a hand, "you need me."

My stomach drops when he yanks me by the waist. His violet eyes dart down to my heaving chest. He places his one hand on my collarbone, "shhh."

The feel of him pressing onto my flesh does the exact opposite of what he wants. But no-- with how the corner of his mouth curves upward, I think it's actually the exact reaction he wanted.

When I try to push him off, he pulls me tighter into him and repeats, "you need me."

My nostrils flare but I stop repelling him.

"You need me," he lifts his gaze, "but I don't. I want you, but you need me."

I clench my jaw tightly. I am unable to contain my flinch when his hand strokes my side. He continues, "you need me to open the gate for you and your friend come midnight, do you not?"

I turn away from him.

He nudges me and asks louder, "do you not?"

"Yes," I whimper as I shut my eyes.

He hums, "then," he takes my chin in his fingers, "you'll be what I want, riñītsos." Little girl. He raises his brows. "If say you are a toy, then you say, 'yes, my prince'. If I say you are a rug, then I expect you under my heel. If I say you are my dog, then you ought to bark," he releases my chin, "now, bark, my sweet."

I glare at him, "if you want a dog, I suggest you go up North." I push him by his chest.

He laughs. He grabs my arms and pushes me back. I panic when I fumble on my feet and find myself pressed against a wall. "You're right, riñītsos. How wrong of me to liken dragon fire to dog breath."

I gasp when my back hits the wall.

"A shame," he tucks my silver hair behind my ear, "your parents did not give you violet eyes."

I am frozen in my spot when his lips brush against mine. My breath hitches when he simultaneously presses me back with his chest and pulls me forward with his hands.

I don't kiss him back. My brain was in a glitch. He doesn't seem to mind and feasts on my lips. The moment I have the wits to move, he pulls away and whispers, "worry not," he kisses my jaw, "I'll give your babes violet eyes."

Hearing that really snapped me out of my trance.

I finally turn away from him. It does not deter him though, and he makes due with kissing my neck. He moans against me, "you smell divine."

"I-it's called," I push him back, "personal hygiene."

He snakes his arms around me, "you were sent to me by the gods."

"I travelled here by accident!"

"And I plan to make good of this happy accident."

I fight him off when he claws my skirt up. I weigh my chances with screaming and with talking sense into him. I ponder of telling him my vagina is cursed, but then I think he'd be into that.

"Don't fight it," Daemon grabs my wrists, "I will quench the fires of the Targaryen blood in you that calls out to me."

"My blood does not call out to you!" I whimper.

"You may be Gryffindor by name, but you will be a Targaryen once I am done with you."

And then the doors slam open. "Your grace!"

"Harwin," I call out to the man that burst in.

Daemon growls and but does not pull away or turn, "I'm busy."

"It's Lady Hufflepuff," Harwin speaks through strained breath.

"Who?"

My stomach drops, "wait!" I push Daemon harder, "what happened to Libby?"

Daemon finally looks over his shoulder with annoyance, "what happened?"

Harwin takes a moment to respond. The dread that courses through me makes me strong enough to shove Daemon off. He grunts as I do so. I walk over to the dark haired man, "Harwin."

He clenches his jaw and turns to his feet, "I took her to the privy. She said she was having... trouble using it and that I should call a servant to help. So... I fetched a servant, but when I returned," he clears his throat, "she was gone."

I bring my hand to my mouth.

Daemon walks up behind me, "you lost a woman in King's Landing, Strong?"

"I- I did not think much of it at first," Harwin turns to Daemon, "at first I thought she may have just finished and was playing a trick on me," he glances to me but looks away at once, "but then I saw her contraption on the ground-"

I gasp.

"And then I saw a shoe... and then her headscarf-"

"Dear gods, Libby," my voice strains.

"She was taken by a group of three men," Harwin speaks sternly, "I know not for, but they've since regret their decision."

"And Libby!" I jump and grab his arm, "where is she now?!"

Harwin feels guilt eat away at him when he catches my distraught expression. He turns to me, placing a hand on my shoulder, "she's being attended to by the maesters in the ward-"

I dash to the door, intent on reaching her, though I had no idea where I was going.

"It's this way!" Daemon calls.

When I turn to see where he meant, he was already right behind me. He grabs my arm and leads me down the hall.

The moment we get to the ward, I run around and look for Libby. I am shocked solid in my place when I see the cot she is laid upon. My hands slap to my face upon catching her messy hair, dirty skin, and tattered clothes. Her waist was bound in bandages, but that didn't prevent the red to seep through from her side.

I drop to my knees and crawl all the way over to her. I yelp when I feel how cold her hands are. Hot tears burn down my cheek, "Libby, please!"

My breathing becomes more erratic.

"I've spoken to the maesters," Daemon's voice sounds from behind.

"Fucking tetanus, fucking bacterial shock-"

"They said she lost some blood but she will recov-"

"SHUT UP!" I snap and get to my feet, "YOU GET A FUCKING FEVER HERE AND YOU DIE!" I point an accusing finger, "THIS IS ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT!"

"ME?" Daemon snaps back, "that Strong fool was the one that took his eyes off her!"

"If you had just let us stay in your chambers like I begged you to-- but no! You wanted us to watch your stupid fucking game, you EGOTISTICAL BASTARD!"

He steps forward and barks back, "she still would have needed to go to the privy, you whining nitwit!"

"Why did they even take her?!" I whine.

Daemon does not respond.

"I do not contest that the fault is mine," another voice speaks.

Daemon and I turn to Harwin. His hands are linked in front of him, and only then do I realize they were bloody. More tears gush down my face when the man continues, "it was my duty to keep her-"

"It doesn't matter now, does it!?" I wail, waving my hands around. I fall back on my knees and turn to Libby. Her blue hair was stuck on her sweaty skin. And as I wiped her forehead, it felt like a rehash of last night, except worse. I sob, "nothing's gonna change the fact she got fucking stabbed."

Daemon looks from me to Harwin, "what of the men that took her?"

"I killed them."

My expression drops as I turn to Harwin.

The two stare at each other for a moment.

"Well, we can't question the dead, now can we," Daemon mutters, "feed their corpses to Caraxes."

"W-wait," I feel bile rise up my throat, "did- did you actually kill them?"

Harwin looks at me but doesn't respond. He walks off when Daemon orders him to get a chair. I turn to Daemon and whimper, "he didn't actually kill them... did he actually kill them?"

Daemon nods, "he did," and grabs my arms, "do not insult yourself by sitting on the floor."

For once, I do not fight him back. I let him bring me to my feet. The moment I'm stood before him, he takes my cheeks and wipes my tears.

I shake my head, "I have to take her back."

Daemon raises his brows, "you would dare to move her in such a state?"

"It's the only way she will survive," I mumble through trembling lips.

The prince looks at me for a moment. Harwin finally brings a chair. He places it beside us then stations himself by the door. Neither Daemon nor I make a move for the chair. The former asks, "and you think you can carry her all the way back?"

"Daemon," I grab his arms, "I just have to get her back. Once I'm there, it'll be half the work done."

Daemon releases a breath. He takes my silver locks and fondles with the ends, "and what if I do not want you to leave."

Fuck. "Please," I beg, "please. We both know I don't belong here."

I can see it clearly. It was so clear that those words meant nothing to him. It was talking to a brick wall. I sigh and wipe my face, "I'll do what you want. Whatever it is, I'll do, as long as you let us go by midnight."

Daemon narrows his eyes.

I muster up the most sincere expression I am capable of.

"You will give me whatever I want?"

I close my eyes and shake my head, "yes... my prince."

He does not respond. Daemon turns from me to Libby. He pulls away and calls, "Strong."

"Your grace," Harwin responds.

"She could manage on the back of an ass, could she not?"

Harwin thinks for a moment then nods, "she could."

"Then fetch me an ass," Daemon says. Harwin promptly complies.

Daemon doesn't make me do anything besides sit on his lap while we watched Libby for the rest of the night. I knew in my gut that was not what he wanted out of me, but he didn't say otherwise and I didn't bring it up. Soon enough, it was midnight and there I, Daemon, Harwin, and Libby, sat on a donkey, stood before the open gate of the castle.

Rather than thinking this was stupid and it wasn't going to fucking work, I prayed under my breath to the Seven that we be delivered from this nightmare.

But every time I felt tranquil, the donkey made a sound and I just knew it had to go. What the hell was I going to do with the donkey when I got back to the city anyway?

I clutch the satchel containing our things around my shoulders, "I'll carry her instead."

Daemon and Harwin turn to me and mutter at the same time, "what?"

"I don't want to be responsible for the donk- the animal when I get there."

"Just leave the ass behind," Daemon mutters, rather annoyed.

I grab Libby, who I was already keeping upright, and wrap her arms around my shoulders, "I can carry her."

"No, you can't," Daemon mutters.

Harwin adds, "you are not in the right mind to do this."

"Just," Daemon add, "set the beast free when-"

"I can't just let a donkey loose in King's Landing, Daemon!" I snap, "now please! Help me-"

The bells begin to ring.

I immediately panic.

A surge of adrenaline helps me gather Libby onto my back. "Fucking hell," I grunt and try to fix her on me.

Daemon shakes his hand, "here, let me-"

"I GOT IT!" I scream as the sound of the bell tolling makes my entire body burn with agitation.

I shift Libby on my back one last time and beeline to the gate.

Harwin and Daemon watch. It's impossible to tell which of them is more skeptic in the moment.

I begin to struggle and nearly trip on the annoying skirts hindering my feet. Harwin steps forward, "watch your step."

Daemon eyes him in annoyance, "how helpful."

"Fuck," I panic and begin to walk faster towards the gate, "fucking hell, it's not even that far!"

I reach the large, tunnel-like gate and can't help but close my eyes, afraid that if I could see where I was going, it wouldn't work.

Then SPLAT! I fall face down on the ground.

I scream and immediately roll Libby off me, uncaring that it hurt me, that it hurt her, and quickly get on my feet. I drag her corpse-like body across the expanse and cry as I do so.

I was manic. I was delirious. The sound of the echoing bells did not help the situation at all. I couldn't stop pleading to the gods as I tugged my best friend across the ground. I couldn't even open my eyes because I didn't think my prayers were heard.

"Enough!" a voice calls.

No. NO! That was fucking Daemon. GET THE FUCK AWAY!

I feel someone mess with Libby's body. I screech and refuse to let her go, "LET US GO, DAEMON!"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!"

"NO!" I squeal, finally opening my eyes. I release Libby and lunge at Daemon when I spot him. We crumble to the ground. Once he's on his back, I begin to beat him. It unfortunately doesn't take long for him to overpower me.

"ENOUGH!" he barks, both my hands now trapped in his.

"LET US GO!" I cry.

Daemon shakes his head, "STOP IT!"

"WE'RE GOING BACK!" I try to punch my way out of his grip. It doesn't work.

"Look at me!" Daemon yells, "you dragged her through."

"Get off me!"

"You've done it!!"

I flinch when he shakes me.

"You did it!" Daemon exclaims as he sits up, hands cradling my shoulders, "we're in your time now."

I finally register his words. Daemon looks around, "when you said ruins, I expected an empty castle, not... ruins."

A gasp leaves me when I hear a loud roar from the sky. Daemon looks up when I do, and I calm down when I realize it was only an airplane.

"Was that a dragon?" Daemon asks.

"No," I pull away from him, "that's an-" wait. I stare at him. Daemon fucking Targaryen came back with me?

[deanbrainrotwritings]

—  SWORDS, DRAGONS, AND DIET COKE

SUMMARY : Halloween dressed as the Scooby gang… her dressed as Daphne… things can only go right from there.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : castiel, charlie bradbury, joan carlisle (ofc)

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), oral sex, unprotected sex (barf), fingering, p in v, pussy spanking, violence, anger issues, implied trauma 👍🏻, ghost possession

WORD COUNT : 4.7k

A/N : the devil wears prada song title. also, how come women look hot when they cosplay male characters, but men don’t look hot when they cosplay female characters??? EXPLAIN! SOMEONE, PLEASE!!! Or change my mind ;) XXXXXX

“So we all agree that we look ridiculous?” Y/n asked with a smile as they stepped into the loud and crowded frat house. 

“Cas and I, do,” Dean leaned down to say close to her ear. “You, Charlie, and Joan, don’t.” He circled his arm around her waist, fingers trailing across her jawline to turn her face towards his. He gave her a sweet kiss and moved her dyed hair over her shoulder. 

She returned the kiss with a smile, turning her body to face him fully as he slid his hand down from the back of her shoulder to her ass. She wrapped her arms around his neck, opening her mouth to slip her tongue into his mouth. He squeezed the supple flesh of her ass and she moaned, threading her fingers through his soft hair. 

“Alright, Fred and Daphne, we get it: you’re in love,” Joan giggled, taking Y/n’s waist to pull her away from Dean. 

“That’s fine,” Dean shrugged playfully, letting his girlfriend go while he tugged at the ascot around his neck, “we’ve got a mystery to solve.” Charlie snorted and gave Dean a hard smack across his back that only made him pout.

“Well, technically, yes,” Joan laughed. “Listen, I don’t know if the ghost will come out tonight or not. But I’m glad you guys are here,” she smiled at the group and squeezed Y/n’s waist before letting her go. “Obviously, there’s been sightings in the basement, boring, but sometimes it’s appeared on the second floor, or the attic,” Joan explained, fixing her glasses on her nose. 

“Woah, Miss Carlisle,” two guys passed by wolf-whistled and looked at Joan disrespectfully, eyes trailing over long orange socks against dark skin, a tiny pleated skirt, and a tight ribbed turtleneck—also in a shade of orange. They only glanced at her face to smirk smugly as if her deadpan expression meant they won. 

“Douchebags,” Dean grunted, glaring at the arrogant boys. 

“So, how should we split up?” Charlie grinned, trying to remove their focus from the immature men. They all looked back at her, became relaxed, then looked towards Dean and Y/n. 

“Well, I could check out the second floor and Dean can check the attic,” she suggested, to which Dean chewed his lip and nodded in agreement. 

“Naturally, Shaggy and Scoob stick together, so, uh, Charlie and Cas, you two take the basement,” Dean smiled boyishly at the two, and Cas rolled his eyes, sighing. Charlie laughed and punched Cas’ shoulder gently, causing Cas to smile slightly.

“Right, I’ll stay here, then,” Joan smiled, then gave her old friend, Y/n a slap on the ass. Y/n giggled, and rubbed the spot, hardly feeling a sting. 

“We’ll meet here again after?” Cas asked, they all nodded in agreement, then both Charlie and Cas started making their way through the house to get downstairs. Cas tugged at the neck of the costume with a deep frown.

Dean reached out for Y/n’s elbow and slid his fingers down her arm to hold her hand. Joan stopped her, giving her a half-hug before Dean could drag her away to do their job. “Hey, let’s catch up later, you look so happy now, and also, your boyfriend’s hot,” Joan laughed softly, giving her friend a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“Sure, Jay, maybe once the case is done we can all hang out,” she smiled, hugging her friend back. “It’s sort of our thing to go to the local bars. That sound good?” Joan nodded, squealing excitedly, and stepped away. 

Dean smiled at Joan then tugged Y/n towards him—her quiet laughter making him warm. She smiled up at him and let him place his arm over her shoulders to kiss the top of her head. Y/n circled his waist with her arm and clenched the side of his white long-sleeved shirt as they walked upstairs. 

Students drank along the stairs, talking, and laughing with their friends. Properly having fun. There were two friends dressed as Arthur and Merlin, which was cute, and Dean started with interest at the sword sheathed into the leather belt around his hips. 

“I’m kinda hungry, is that weird?” Dean pouted, releasing her so she could walk up the stairs without complications. Their fingertips still touched, their forefingers hooked together, and back he went to holding her once they got to the top of the stairs. 

“Not really, it’s cute,” she smiled, then shivered, either a ghost or the wintry breeze that chilled houses. “Maybe we can find food or snacks here,” she suggested, pulling him close to absorb his heat before he left her to check out the attic.

“You should’ve brought a jacket,” he scolded gently, then playfully squeezed her breast. “I’ll try to keep you warm while you walk me to the attic,” he told her playfully. She smiled and rolled her eyes, then pushed him into the nearest wall. Dean smirked at her, and dropped his hand from her chest, but she grabbed both his wrists to place his hands over both breasts. 

“A jacket will ruin my costume, I look great,” she argued jokingly, pressing herself against him. Dean lowered his hands a little, enough to cup the bottom over her breasts while he brushed his thumbs over her pebbled nipples. No bra beneath the soft, violet dress she wore. 

“Yeah, you… look super hot as Daphne,” Dean breathed out, licking his bottom lip before biting it. “Fuck…” he muttered, his head thumping against the wall when he tipped it back, dropping his hands from her breast to hold her hips. 

“Let’s get this case over with,” she smiled, pushing against his chest to step away. He whined, digging his fingers hard into her hips to bring her back in, and dropped a kiss to her glossed, pink lips—staining his own. 

“Okay, I’ll, uh, leave now,” Dean smiled, and licked his mouth to taste her gloss. She laughed softly and shook her head, fixing the ascot around his neck by placing it back beneath the sky blue polo shirt. “Yummy lip stuff, by the way,” he teased, reaching down to tug her dress down as it crinkled slightly at her hips. 

“Lip stuff,” she repeated with a cute cackle, appreciative of the way he distractedly fixed her dress. “I love you—a lot,” she sighed happily, patting his now-flushed cheeks. 

“Me, uh,” Dean stuttered, “I love you, too. A lot,” he added, watching her smirk and slowly walk away from him. She waved at him and turned around to start knocking on doors.

“If you’re an FBI agent, how come you’re dressed like Daphne?” She pushed past the irritating guy dressed as Tarzan, ignoring him as she looked around the room that he shared with a friend. “And how come you’re not arresting us? We’re doing drugs and drinking, not all of us are twenty-one,” he told her. 

She could feel him behind her, and she rolled her eyes, squatting down carefully to not reveal anything as she searched for anything suspicious, pulling out the EMF detector from her small purse. 

“You’ve never heard of undercover then?” She asked sarcastically, getting up to search the rest of his room. According to him, it suddenly gets colder than usual, he hears weird sounds, he’s heard voices—the typical signs of a haunting. “And the focus on the case isn’t underage drinking or drug usage, it’s… there’s a killer,” she hesitated to share information, but he’s attached himself to her—well, much like this irritating ghost has attached itself to this frat house. 

“Wow, that’s dope,” he burped drunkenly, which irritated her more. 

“I don’t know if I'd call my friends dying dope, but, whatever,” she muttered, hiding the EMF detector as she turned towards the closet. 

“You’re hot, smart, and badass, like actual Daphne. T-that’s why you’re dressed like her, right?” He asked, hiccuping before taking another—large—gulp of alcohol, straight from the bottle. 

“You shouldn’t drink too much, it’s going to be awful in the morning,” she warned, avoiding his question as she went into the bathroom. She heard him follow, and sighed, putting the EMF detector away into her purse once more. 

“Aw, so you do care about me,” he smiled lopsidedly, cheeks flushed with drunkenness. She smiled sarcastically, then glared at him. “I kinda like older women, ya know?” She blinked at him in bewilderment, watching him stumble towards her, but she backed up rather than helped out. “That’s why I let you in an-and said yes to… everything you asked me,” he grinned, setting the alcohol down on the counter, but it slipped and shattered on the floor. “Whoops.” She narrowed her eyes at him, and scoffed, her jaw clenching angrily. She stomped out while he became distracted by the loss of his spirits. 

“Woah, hey,” he jogged towards her, taking her arm. She pulled away from him, anger burning bright in her chest. “We haven’t even-” 

“Get lost, kid, I’m not interested,” she interrupted him. 

“I’m not a kid, I’m turning twenty one this semester,” he told her smugly, reaching out to brush her hair much like Dean had earlier, except this time she didn’t like it. Immaturely, she pushed it forward again, and rolled her eyes. “Come on, Tarzan needs Jane,” he tried flirtatiously, but she turned around, and swung the door open, ready to leave. 

“Well, good thing I’m Daphne and I’ve already got Fred,” she spat, leaving him in the room alone, “I’m gonna get to work now, kid.” 

“All the pretty girls lie about having boyfriends,” he slurred, leaning against the doorway. She grimaced at his words, she didn’t think he could make her cringe more than she already was. Maybe someone could make her vomit without being physically nauseating? That would be impressive. 

“Maybe take a hint and leave women alone,” she told him, but fished for her phone in her purse to call Dean. Still, Tarzan rolled his eyes at her, and boredly watched her put her phone to her ear. It rang halfway when Dean answered with a gruff, ‘sweetheart’ that made her insides warm and delighted. “Hi, babe, I’m upstairs and Tarzan here doesn’t know what ‘no’ means. Please, come save him, I love you.” 

She didn’t hang up when she heard wood break, and Dean swore, “son of a bitch.” She was about to ask if he was okay, when Tarzan grabbed her waist and pulled her towards him, her palms landing on his sweaty, flushed, somewhat hairy chest. 

“Gross, let me-”

“Uh, what?” Dean asked, then she heard his boots, and more thumping as she struggled to get out of Tarzan’s rough hold. “Babe, okay, I’ll be there, love you,” he said quickly, but he also didn’t hang up. She knew he probably had his phone pressed to his ear by his shoulder.

“Save me?” Tarzan laughed, spinning her so she’d enter his room once more. She got angrier the more he manhandled her. 

“Yeah, you gonna back off? My boyfriend’s on his way, and you’re drunk, don’t do something stupid,” she tried to deescalate without violence. 

“You were looking at me and you smiled,” he reasoned, lamley. She looked up at him in disbelief, his irritating icy ice and dirty blonde hair, pimples placed here and there. 

“I.. What? That means you have a free pass into my pants now, regardless of what I say? Wow, I forgot guys like you were real. At least I won’t regret this,” she snarled, slamming his nose with her forehead. 

Finally, he loosened his grip on her, and she stumbled back, rubbing her forehead. It definitely hurt him more than it hurt her. He shouted a loud ‘fuck’ and held his nose as it bled, warm, thick red dripping between his fingers. 

When he started toward her, her eyes widened, and she grimaced at the thought of his blood getting anywhere near her. “No,” she warned him, as if he were a child. 

She quickly moved around him and kicked him, white ankle boots striking his lower back, causing him to trip forward through the door. She heard gasps, but she stepped closer to him, her heart beating fast, but her mind, bread, and movements remained serene. He turned over into his back, looked around at all the people dressed up and watching, too drunk to even think properly. 

Finally, there was that cold chill. She became distracted by the visible puff of white air passing from between her lips, but when he tried to kick her, she jumped back before he could succeed, chuckling darkly. When he gave up, she got down anyway, and straddled his lap punching him once, or twice, or more than that. 

She stopped only when she felt warm fingers around her wrist after who knows how long. A mouthwatering, unsavoury saltiness in her mouth made her splutter. She unclenched her fist, whining at the pain she felt when she stretched her fingers out. 

She looked up and saw Dean’s worried face. He simpered when he saw her, wiped her mouth carefully of salt as she blinked up at him. He helped her up, when she tried to do it alone, and she finally looked around, confused. Joan was helping Tarzan up, Cas and Charlie were telling people to get out of the second floor. 

“Hey, how ya feelin’, baby?” Dean asked, pulling her attention away from the people dressed up in silly clothes. He held her face gently, wiping remnants of salt from her mouth that she now began to taste strongly. She pulled away from him and ran to the bathroom to spit out the tiny, unpleasant grains, her face pulled up in distaste. 

She rinsed it out of her mouth with water from the sink and saw the blood flowing from her hand. Dean appeared once more, took her hand out from the running water, and guided her back into the room, to sit her down on the nearest desk. 

“Tell me you’re okay,” he whispered, brushing his thumb gently over her forehead. 

“I’m fine, just… confused,” she reassured him with a weak smile, taking his hand away to kiss his knuckles with wet lips. “Also that much salt is gross, we should stop shoving salt up people’s mouths,” she added with a laugh. He chuckled, too, and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. 

“I’m gonna find some stuff to clean your hand, uh, I’ll be quick,” he told her, waiting until she nodded. Still, he was worried, so he hesitated to remove himself from her presence. “Want me to stay? I can call Cas up-” 

“It’s fine, I like it when you take care of me,” she smiled at him, and mimicked the tip-of-the-nose kiss he gave to her. Dean hummed in amusement and nodded, whispering a little ‘ok’ before heading into the bathroom to search for the first-aid kit. 

She held her head with her slightly-more-okay hand, realising just how painful that headbutt actually was now that the adrenaline died down. And her hands, they hurt so bad. They were covered in what was now dried blood and she frowned, Cas was gonna have to heal that later. When she was finally relaxed and able to breathe. 

She talked herself down in her mind. Whatever she did was not her fault. She was obviously possessed and while she was furious because of his behaviour, she would have left as soon as he was on the floor. Sure, the intention was there, but who knows what state she left Tarzan in. As horrible and irritating as he was, she wasn’t like him. How stupid of her to feel bad. 

“Babe,” Dean called softly and she averted her abstracted gaze back to him. “Hey, take this,” he offered, a pill and a water bottle in his hand. She didn’t even notice him. 

“Thanks,” she murmured, but he pushed the pill into her mouth goodnaturedly, which made her chuckle. She took the bottle when he handed it to her, and watched him lovingly take her other hand to inspect it, before focusing on her face once more. 

She downed half the bottle and panted, pleased with the cool liquid travelling down her insides. He lifted his other hand up to her face and gently pressed a finger against her forehead. 

“Headbutt?” Dean asked with a smile, she nodded, and watched him take an alcohol wipe out from its square package. He gently cleaned her slightly-bruised forehead, and despite knowing it was making it unsanitary again, he blew air against her forehead to get it dry faster. Her eyes shut instantly, and she laughed, then felt his lips push against the same spot. 

“Mm, feels a lot better now,” she hummed, leaning against his lingering mouth.

“Yeah, I bet,” he mumbled against her forehead with a grin. Dean pulled away and gave her a soft kiss on the lips before tending to her hands quietly. 

He gave her time to process, he didn’t push for answers with a dozen questions, he didn’t bring up the case. Instead, he made her laugh, and he kissed her sweetly, and he caressed her tenderly. Even after he was finished, he threw everything out, made sure she knew he was there, that she was safe. 

He sat with her and held her. 

“Well, I think I know what brings the ghost out,” she started, playing with his sleeves. 

“Yeah? Well, there was nothing in the attic,” he added. Dean watched her closely, she could feel his gaze, the worried shapes he drew on her thigh. It made her shiver. His proximity, the sudden downturn of emotions, his loving nature, all of it was overwhelming. In a good way. “I love you,” he said suddenly, it made her smile. 

“I love you, too,” she responded, looking up at him lovingly. 

What started out as an innocent, emotional kiss, turned into a possessive, heated make out session that left her seamless panties drenched with arousal. 

Dean was everywhere. 

So hot. So loving. 

His large hands kneaded and squeezed, pulled and scratched, pink lips kissing hard and wet at her skin, sharp teeth nipping and marking, tongue licking and rubbing against suction marks. 

“I never knew that I could want someone so badly,” he whispered, lowering her from the desk to shove her violet dress up her waist. She moaned softly, throwing her head back as he sucked and bit at her throat, his fingers slipping inside her panties, moving forward behind the silky barrier to gather her slick. “So wet, good girl,” he murmured, pressing his fingertips into her clenching, wet entrance. He moved his fingers up to her clit and drew circles around it at just the perfect pace, successfully clouding her mind. 

Dean pulled away from the column of her throat, eying the reddish mark on her pulse, and watched her writhe as he massaged her clit relentlessly. She felt his teeth at her chin and she groaned, spreading her legs wider, desperate to feel him all over her body. She felt the quick buildup of her orgasm. Dean wasn’t teasing, he was determined, occasionally switching the figures on her clit, each time it made her tremble, until she tensed up. 

It was then that he pulled away, the material of her underwear slapping electrifyingly against her skin. “Please,” she begged, opening her eyes lazily. Dean smirked and bit his lip, taking her underwear from beneath, he stretched it upwards, moved it up and down, so the silky material rubbed against her clit.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He asked with a chuckle, watching her mouth fall open and her body turn to mush once more. It must have been enough for him—as an answer—because he released her underwear, started to push them down her legs, and settled on his knees in front of her. He lifted her legs, one after the other, to take her underwear off completely. Dean lifted the periwinkle panties up to his mouth and licked her arousal from the crotch with a smug, “yummy.” 

“Stop, we’re wasting time,” she laughed breathlessly, brushing her fingers through his hair. Instead of getting up, Dean took her thigh and lifted it, moving his face forward to tease her clit with the tip of his tongue. “Oh, fuck,” she gasped, her nails scratching the top of the smooth, wooden desk. She slowly sat up on it and watched Dean shuffle closer on his knees to taste her again. 

“You taste so good,” he whispered, sliding his hands up her thighs. She leaned back slightly, watching his mouth inch closer, his warm breath making her shiver, and become aware of how embarrassingly drenched she was. He held her hips and slid the tip of his tongue from her entrance, through her labia, and began circling around her clit a few times. 

She squirmed and moaned, watching him start to suck her clit—hot, muffled sounds of appreciation vibrating through her vulva from his mouth. Slowly, one of his hands travelled from her hip to her abdomen, sliding down with the intent to make her impatient, and then, he pulled away, replacing her clit in his mouth with two of his fingers. He sucked slowly, and pulled them out, coated in his warm saliva to push them into her waiting vagina. 

Dean returned his mouth to her clit, focusing on her pleasure, doing everything the way he’d memorised she loved most. He angled his fingers upwards inside her, pushing deeper and deeper, brushing against the front of her walls. She clenched around him, squirmed needily, and impatiently rolled her hips against his mouth as he massaged deep inside her. 

She moaned his name and tugged at his hair, her body slowly turning stiff and ready for her climax. He pulled away again. His lips made a wet, salacious sound when they parted from her cunt, and he slowly pulled his fingers out of her pussy. She breathed hard, watching him suck his soppy fingers clean of her slick with a moan. He used his other hand to busy himself with his belt as he stood before her once more. 

She took his wrist to pull his fingers from his mouth with a loud slurp and placed them into hers. She sucked softly on them and stared at the slack-jawed expression while moving her hand beneath his shirts and into his unzipped pants. Dean removed his fingers from inside her warm mouth and held her cheek, moaning against her lips when she teasingly rubbed her soft hand over his cock. 

“I need you inside me,” she whispered, wrapping her fingers around his thick cock, warm and hard in her hand. Dean moaned softly and nodded mindlessly, capturing her lips for a quick kiss. 

“Where inside you?” He purred, teasingly brushing his nose against hers, his warm breath tickling her lips. She laughed softly instead of answering him, pushed his jeans and boxers down, slowly sinking down to her knees in front of him. “I guess that answers my question,” he exhaled, slipping his fingers through her hair. 

She looked up into his eyes and let him bring her mouth towards his cock. The tip brushed against her lips, smearing the precum that dribbled out from the slit against her pink lips. She opened her mouth more, letting him guide her on and off his dick. She hummed at the taste of him invading her taste buds, the way it always did, making her mouth water. 

He liked how messy it got when she went down on him. She knew the way she drooled over his thick length set a fire of passion and desire that would make the Sun envious. When tears fell from her eyes across her flushed cheeks, her lashes sticking together, her eyes bright and glossy as she choked on him—he gripped her ginger hair harder and properly began fucking her face. 

Fast and loud, his cock went down her throat and in and out of her salivating mouth, edging himself the way he’d done to her. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” Dean praised, starting to slow down throating fucking her until he eventually pulled out of her mouth. A string of saliva and precum connected her mouth and his cock, breaking away when she stood back up. 

He brought her in for a kiss with a smug smirk, lewdly licking her lips for remnants of him before pushing his warm tongue past her swollen lips. They moaned softly and she buried both hands into his hair, her hands flexing before gripping strands of his hair to tug at. “We’re wasting time,” she reminded him, pecking his lips before sitting back up on the desk, using her calves to bring his hips forward. 

“I hope we waste a lot of time,” he licked his lips with a grin. Dean teasingly took his cock and gently tapped her clit with the head of it. 

She laughed breathlessly, squirming when he dragged his cock through her soaked folds, “that’s not funny.” 

“Well, it made you laugh,” he bit his lip, pressing his cock into her clenching, dripping pussy. 

“Your… face is funny, that’s why,” she lied playfully, his lips hovering over hers. He chortled and pulled back slightly, brows furrowed in playful offence, then he slapped his hand over her clit without warning. She yelped, and attempted to shut her legs, but Dean’s hips prevented her from doing so. 

“Come ‘ere, baby,” he whispered, guiding his cock back to her entrance. He cut off her playful protest with a kiss, and gently pushed himself into, digging his blunt nails into her hips. She placed her arm around his shoulder to prevent him from pulling away from her lips, only momentarily catching their breaths as he started to fuck her with abandon. 

Items on the desk rattled as he fucked her hard, the wooden table hitting the wall with every thrust of his hips. Her stomach flipped excitedly, his soft moans against her mouth, small whines from her against his. Dean occasionally bit her lip and kissed her with passion as they clung to each other, pulling each other close, desperate to get closer. 

Their warm breaths mingled together and she rolled her hips against his, her face burning with a blush, her pussy clenching tight around him. He grunted against her lip and buried his face into her neck, pushing his cock as deep as he could into her. His hot cum spilled inside her and she moaned in unison with him, her orgasm triggered by his. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he rasped, fucking her through her orgasm before coming to a slow halt. Her neck was damp with his warm breath, her hot skin flushing a deeper rosy colour when she whimpered his name. 

“Thanks, Dean,” she murmured, kissing his temple before he pulled away. He smiled at her, his green eyes lovingly trailing over her face. He cupped her cheeks, pressing a lovingly kiss to her lips, the tip of her nose, and her forehead. “It’s kinda suspicious how long we took, isn’t it?” She laughed, biting her lip to muffle her moan when he slowly pulled out of her. 

“Yeah, uh, pretty much,” he chuckled, pulling his pants up. She watched him with her legs squeezed shut, the flushed afterglow on his face was more than obvious. 

“Oh well,” she shrugged, taking her underwear from the desk. Dean snatched them from her with narrowed eyes and got down to put them back on her. “Let’s go before it gets weirder,” she giggled, moving off the desk to fix her underwear properly. Dean nodded and lowered her dress once more, staring at her with a smirk when she began squirming as she walked. 

“You don’t wanna clean up?” He laughed, slapping his hand over her ass when he joined her. He squeezed the flesh and wrapped his arms around her from behind. 

“We can shower back at the motel,” she shrugged, squeaking when he turned her around and threw her over his shoulder faster than she could process. She laughed with him, clinging to his shirt as he held her with one arm around her, the other hand squeezing her thigh reassuringly. 

“Let’s get outta here fast, then,” Dean smiled, slapping her ass. “Wait, I need to say… I finally got to fuck Daphne.”

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[bump1nthen1ght]

Attention to Detail (M!Reader x M!Demon)

Pairing: Male!Demon Cosplayer x Male!Demon

Genre: Meet-Cute, Misunderstandings, Flirty, Fluffy

Word Count: 2563 words

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Halloween is a great time to subtly flex your cosplay skills, pouring hour and hours into your costume. You’d even found an occult book at a second-hand store for reference! At a house party, someone pays special attention to all your hard work.

Request: I’m so glad you’re doing well and good!

Can I request a Male Demon x Male Demon Cosplayer on halloween night? Cosplayer could think that the demon is just another dude unaware of the actual danger he’s in?

and maybe could the demon praise and love cosplayer for cosplaying their kind and getting all the little details just right? 🥹

Sometimes, house parties aren’t so bad.

Sure, they could be crowded, smelly, and way too loud. But that was often a by-product of teenage stupidity and desperation; too many bodies crammed into one place, scrambling for beer and faking adulthood. As an adult they get a lot more tolerable. Comes with practice, you suppose.

This halloween house party has been great so far. You’d come with a group of friends who'd all split up, leaving you to find more drinks in the kitchen, but it wasn’t super stifling. You’d actually gotten a lot of compliments on your costume too, a little ego boost to ease you into socializing with all the strangers.

This kitchen is nice as well. Spacious, lots of counter space, some really nice cooking ware. The kinda thing you appreciate more as an adult. The walls helped block out a lot of the music as well, a perfect hiding hole to refill your beverages and recharge your battery for a second. And adjust your costume. God, leather and sweat do not mix.

You take the time and admire your costume-paint, several runes decorating up and down your bare arms. The paint held up pretty well after dancing for so long, the intricate lines still being cohesive. Your body paint had begun to chafe and smudge a little at your knees and elbows, but luckily were hidden beneath your many leather accessories. 

“Ow, fuck!”

A voice snaps you from your admiration, a shadowed figure with a red solo cup in his hand, now rubbing his forehead.

“Damned horns. These infernal houses are too small…” He doesn’t seem to notice you at all when he ducks his head and enters the kitchen. It makes sense, you’re probably under his line of sight because holy fuck this guy is tall.

You're not the best frame of reference, still sitting on the counter as you are, but he’s pushing 6 '6, maybe even 6' 7. Not including the horns, which seemed to add an extra 3 inches of height alone. You wonder what they’re made of to support their bulk. They stay pinned to his head well too, despite the bump. His paint is immaculately done, dark purple showing no signs of fading or chipping away.

“You need some ice?”

That catches his attention, your quiet voice somehow making this absolute giant of a man jump out of his skin. His eyes are wide, yellow sclera glowing in the dark.

Gotta ask where he got those contacts. They look so real.

Said eyes go up and down, his nose twitching as he takes a deep breath. His face crinkles. Jeez, did you smell that bad? You’d made sure to wear deodorant!

“No…I am alright.” He rubs the sore area again. “It’s just the third time it’s happened. Who lives in this house? Imps?”

That gets a snort from you.

“I think you're just tall, dude. Those horns are killer though, totally worth a casual head injury.”

The tall cosplayer stands a little bit taller, finally relaxing and properly looking you in the eye.

“Thank you. I like..” His eyes narrow, “..yours too.”

You brush a hand across your clip-on horns, gentle enough to not mess with the paint. You had set it, but those hours of shaving down the foam and painting were not to go to waste. “Thanks, not that sturdy but I figured I wouldn’t be headbanging too much tonight.”

The man goes silent, eyes now locked on your arms. You twist your forearm, wondering if maybe the paint had smudged while you weren’t looking.

“Those are incredible.” The man is able to cross the length of the room in just one stride, now firmly in your bubble. You figure he must be a little tipsy and not realize, so you brush it off. Hard to be mad when you’re getting complimented.

“Thanks, man. It was hard getting the shapes just right in the mirror. But I think I did an okay job.”

“You did a fantastic job.” He eyes the specific curves of one rune, the more intricate one on your inner wrist. “People often mess this one up, you see. They forget the toz’goth.”

He gestures to a small arrow-like shape protruding out of the side of the rune.

“Is that how you say it?” The book you had copied from hadn’t had many English sections, most being in a script unrecognizable to you or Google Translate. “Good to know.”

“May I?” The man gestures towards your forearm, palm out and stretched open to hold. You quirk up an eyebrow. You don’t even know this guy's name and he’s already asking for a feel?

But he has been giving me a lot of praise, sooooo.

It’s a mixture of the alcohol and the need for approval that has you nodding, setting your arm into his palm. You finally notice his long, sharp black nails as they gently wrap around your wrist, hand ensconcing it in its size. A textured thumb brushes across your inner wrist. A (hopefully) impercitable shiver runs down your spine.

Can’t say I hate this.

The man mutters under his breath as he traces more and more of the runes, nodding approvingly. You try not to shake with giddy.

“The detail you’ve managed with just a paintbrush is astonishing.” His low voice does pleasant things to your stomach, eyes still locked in thought. 

“Thanks, I got a nice set for Christmas. One benefit of being the ‘artist’ of the family, I guess.” You snort, thinking back to all the cheap sets you’d gotten over the years. The thought was appreciated, if nothing else. “I buy the paint in bulk, it does great for really long wear time. I can send you the link, if you want.”

The man just hums, eyes now crawling farther up your arm to your biceps, then to your shoulders. It lands on your neck and you swear the man darts out his tongue to lick his lips when he lands on your pulse. Your stomach flips again.

“My name's ____, by the way. What’s yours?”

The man's eyes go slightly wide, a smirk curling up the sides. 

“Galvith, the Torturer.”

“Ah, much cooler than mine already.” You play long, a little salty he didn’t give you his real name when you gave yours, but whatever. Maybe he’s just really method with his cosplays, or a more private person in general. “It’s a shame, left all my torturing stuff at home. Otherwise us demons could have had some real fun.”

That gets a laugh, a shockingly boisterous laugh. You see the hints of sharp canines, surely fake, that almost glint in the low light.

“Yes, I bet we could.” Galvith chuckles to himself, almost like he’s remembering an inside joke. “I’d be the brawn, you’d be the brains behind the operation?”

“Well, if you insist.” You throw your hand in a faux sign of humility. “Just didn’t want you to waste all those muscles, big guy.” Patting his chest is a good way for you to subtly feel his chest, and wow are those pecs prominent. Gotta respect the hustle, Galvith is a brick shithouse.

Galvith takes the compliment easily, going the extra mile and flexing his bicep, which is almost as big as the honeydew melon sitting not too far from you. Thank god you’re sitting, or else you’d have probably swooned already. 

“Think we’d have to get you a different outfit though. Cargo shorts and a graphic tee aren’t really giving ‘torturer’.”

“And I suppose all of this  is?” Galvith flicks at a tassel on your leather vest. “Do you know how hard it is to get blood out of leather?”

“Hey man, don’t hate the look! What kind of torture-expert would I be if I didn’t bring style to the gig?”

“A messy one, that’s what.” Galvith takes a step back eyeing your whole outfit, from your vest to your ripped jeans to your combat boots with studs. “You’re less tortue-expert and more Incubus. All style and,” He eyes up your exposed clavicle, tracing it with his eyes, “-debauchery.”

The word feels so perfect coming out his mouth, like it was molded by it. This hard seltzer must be stronger than you thought, cause you can’t remember the last time a total stranger had you this horny.

“Well maybe I’m looking to change positions. Heard it’s much cushier, being an Incubus and all.”

Gavith chuckles, eyes once more rolling up and down your body. Goosebumps pepper the back of your neck, a primordial something settling in your gut. You're not sure if it’s a good or bad thing.

“You’ve certainly got the looks for it, little one.” He clicks his teeth, fake fangs and all. You’re impressed by the durability, and how he doesn’t seem to speak with a lisp with them in.

You find yourself getting lost in his contacts, yellow and slitted. They don’t seem to be irritating him at all, and you add it to the list to ask what his prescription is. It’ll be hard to remember though, when he places a hand right by your thigh, enclosing into your space.

“Do you like to dance, my little Incubus?”

“Y-yeah.” You swallow the lump in your throat, once again getting lost in his hot gaze, in that sultry look. “Yeah, I like to dance.”

“Good.” A clawed hand settles on your lower back, pushing you off the counter and practically in his arms. On the ground, it’s even more noticeable just how big Galvith is. “Let’s test out that body paint, shall we?”

—

It’s hot on the make-shift dance floor, despite just being a mat laid out in the backyard, a wireless speaker pumping the top 100 over the party noise. But with Galvith’s hands on your hips, those fangs nipping at the top of your ear, you're steamy.

“I must admit, I’m a fan of this new genre of human music.”

Galvith whispers in your ear, swaying your bodies to the drum beat. 

“I think they call it ‘pop’.” You play along, adding an extra haught to your voice, as if you're really 100 plus years old.

“Hm, like the pop of a vertebrae when you snap it in half. Or a bone being forced out of the socket.”

That has you both laughing, that shared dark humor coming in clutch. You could get down with this kind of roleplay.

“Exactly! The most pleasant sound around.”

Galvith swings you by the hips, your feet nearly lifting off the ground. Your head gets thrown back in a giggle. Seems like those muscles aren’t just for show.

“Oh, what is this?”

Galvith grabs at your necklace, now untucked from your high collar and free flowing. His eyes go slightly wide at the intricate design, composed of several small circles and wrapping lines. 

“A friend made it for me actually. She makes jewelry and I offered to trade some leather pieces for a custom design.” You look at the emblem, wondering if he recognized whatever series the book you found came from. It was extremely detailed, and although a bit on the older side, was full of information too niche to be from any religions you’re aware of. You double checked and everything. 

“Asmaes.” Galvith purrs, twirling the sigils between his fingers. The silver chain rubs against the back of your neck. “Fitting piece, you chose well my little Incubus. Superb craftsmanship as well, kudos to your friend.”

“Thanks, I’ll let her know.” 

Before you can ask him more about the book, he spins you around once more, the world turning as he drops you into a dip. Galvith pulls you up with just as much ease, your ankle hooking around his calf so you don’t collide face-first.

Hot breath blows across your lips, your tongue darting out for just a second. Up-close, those fake fangs look even more real. The closeness is almost too much, your eyes darting to look away. But a calloused thumb presses against your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“So…delectable.”

Sweat pools at your clavicle as Galvith kisses you. Your costume fangs clank together, almost coming loose in your mouth, but it’s hard to care. Not when his hand comes down to your hip, grabbing you and pushing you against him.

It’s easy to fall into the kiss, for that sense of shame to fall to the wayside, even as he practically devours you in front of all these people. You’re not usually like this, you don’t come to these parties for someone to kiss and grind against. But there’s something about him, something thats drawing you in. It’s hot, like a moth to a flame.

The only thing that drags you out of the lust-bubble is the vibration of a phone in Galvith’s pocket, resonating against the thigh you currently have pressed up against him. He growls into your mouth, pulling back at the very last moment.

Galvith curses in a foreign language, you think, grabbing the phone with one hand, the other still swaying you side to side.

“What?”

You swallow down a weird jump of fear. Jeez, you would not want to be on the other side of that phone call.

An unintelligible voice babbles something from the speaker. The vein in Galvith’s head begins to bulge.

“Fine. Whatever.”

He hangs up as the other person is mid-sentence. You don’t even get a chance to ask who it was, before he steals you in another breath-taking kiss.

“Sorry, little human. I have to go.”

“Oh! Oh, yeah, sorry.” You try to unlodge yourself from his arms, the haze of kissing fading and feeling a little more than embarrassed. God, what came over you? But Galvith’s grip is tight, keeping you in place with an alluring smirk.

“Do not worry, we will meet again. Sometime soon.” 

You try not to let your smile get too wide, to seem too eager. “Sure thing. Do you want my phone number, or-”

Galvith digs his face into your neck, taking a deep whiff. You nearly squeak. He pulls away with a shuddering breath, wetting his bottom lip.

“I’ll know where to find you.”

Finally, Galvith unwinds his arms, letting you free. You find yourself almost lurching forward, desperate to feel that heat again.

It’s gotta be the alcohol, right? That’s the only logical explanation.

Galvith gives you one last peck to the cheek, a cheeky squeeze of your ass.

“Goodbye, my sweetling.”

With that he’s sauntering back into the house, leaving you speechless and breathless. All alone in someone’s backyard.

I gotta find my friends. They gotta hear about this.

—

Galvith has to sneak into a broom closet to teleport, just barely large enough to fit him. It’s demeaning, even if the spell takes just a second to go through.

Ugh, the one time he finds an interesting human, and he’s called in for an ‘emergency.’ He had wanted to scream at the amatuer demon over the phone. “It’s torture! How hard could it be to figure it out!?”

Galvith steals himself. It will do no good to be angry. Save it for the poor soul currently strung up by his ankles. He takes a deep sniff of the palm of his hand, the smell of leather, denim and your sweat still lingering.

He’ll come back for his little human. One day.

[ifearzombies]

Funny Moments In the HoL

Just little things that MC would totally share with their friends in the Human Realm.

- You all decided to play Hide & Seek (with a few rules about locations). The winner was Leviathan. He hid in a cooking pot and the only reason anyone found him is after everyone else was found, Beel got hungry and turned the pot on. Poor Levi’s tail had a burn for days.

- Mammon stole your D.D.D. once. He returned it with more selfies than Asmo takes of himself loaded in there. You saved the naughty ones for later.

- Beel accidentally ate a burger squeaky toy you got for Cerberus. The squeaker and all. He got the hiccups later that day and everyone laughed at the squeaking going off.

- Solomon spent the night with you and Asmo. Asmo kissed his head at one point and left a kiss mark in his hair with his lipstick. It took DAYS to wash out. You then borrowed Asmo’s lipstick and put the mark right back on your favorite sorcerer.

- You got a cute rat plush for yourself. Barbatos saw it and your room was unusable for a few days.

- The entire household caught a cold and everyone was miserable. So you all just watched a bunch of movies all cuddled together. Belphie promised Mammon that the movie ‘Cabin In The Woods’ wasn’t a horror movie. It was a romantic one, showing him the reviews for a movie called ‘The Lake House’. Poor Mammon hid under your blanket almost the whole movie.

- You introduced Asmo to Elton John. Asmo loved his fashion and you’ve seen some of the most ridiculous outfits known to man, angels, and demons alike. You saved the pictures.

- You lost a bet to Levi and had to wear a Ruri-chan cosplay to RAD. This backfired because Levi couldn’t focus all day and took way too many pictures.

- You proposed a talent show to Diavolo. You regretted it almost immediately. The Little D’s, while great dancers, are HORRIBLE singers! They looked adorable though.

- You have discovered that Satan headbutts you when he wants attention. He accidentally did it with his horns once. Thank Diavolo they only slightly tore your clothes. But your arm was sore for weeks. Luke and Lucifer chastized him over the bruise.

- Lucifer bought a second motorized wheelchair. It’s not needed. No. He bought it so that you guys could all have wheelchair races.

- You sang the song ‘My R’ and the house was MASS PANIC! Everyone was so worried about you and you had to explain that no, you’re not depressed, you just like the song. No. Liking the song doesn’t mean I’m depressed. Really guys. I promise I’m OK. It took a LOT of convincing, but they eventually realized you were actually OK. They still made you go talk to Simeon just as a precaution. Simeon was just... very confused, but was glad you were OK.

- You mentioned to Asmo that pole dancing is a form of working out. Asmo INSTANTLY bought two dance poles. They lasted less than a day because the moment you tried to use it with Asmodeus, the house lost their shit. Lucifer had to get rid of them for your (hips) well being.

- Belphie one time fell asleep in the bathroom. You walked in and found him standing near the sink, head under the faucet as it ran. You took a picture and then helped him.

- Luke went sniffing around your room and found a vibrator. You told him it was a personal massager and he asked if he could use it to massage his back. You told him no and to not poke around your room like that again. You explained this to Simeon who turned beet red... and then asked to see the vibrator himself... Just so that he can make to avoid Luke seeing such things again. Obviously.

[mechaknight-98]

Masquerade

Author note: I am sorry, but Tifa Sejeong. I had this in my drafts and was going to delete it until today. Also this takes place in the same plotline as Rash revelries and a few other stories I have coming out.

Part II here

Well, this was certainly a new one. A cosplay Party was not on my bingo calendar for 2024 but here I am. Going to a cosplay party on short notice because a friend invited me. Surprisingly the first face I see is a familiar one. My friend Gallahad or Gally for short dressed in a Gilgamesh from Eternals Cosplay. I wave and he confidently smiles at me and walks over. He and Vlad are Probably the next closest to my height due to his basketball-playing father. He puts me in a friendly headlock. Gone is the timid boy I knew a few months ago instead of a confident man who stands tall.

“Danger so glad you could make it. Killer Django cosplay,” he says proudly. I nod and respond,

“Well I didn't have much time to come up with something, but it came out pretty good,” you compliment Gally’s costume, but before Galahad and I can catch up. Two exceptionally attentive and attractive ladies walk our way. “Gally who’s this? The shorter darker skin of the two girls asked

“Oh Jihyo this is Dangerfield Malcolm Baldwin Jr but we just call him Danger,” Galahad explained the girls nodded and the taller paler one addressed me

“덴가?” Sana asked Galls. Gally nodded not noticing. “He’s tall I wonder if she’ll like that. Anyways I’m Sana nice to meet you 덴가. Also love the cowboy cosplay by the way. You rock it.” The taller girl oozed charm and guile. Had I not known that she was in a throuple with Jihyo and Galahad I’d have thought she was flirting with me.

Jihyo approached me next she sized me up for a few minutes then tilted her head and stepped back pleased with what she saw. I turn back to Sana say thank you to her and ask Galahad about the party, but before I can get a word in his two girlfriends pull him away. Something about “needing to find her”

“Oh, sorry Danger gotta go. You know the drill,” Gally says. I don't but I wave him off regardless as his two girlfriends take him upstairs for God knows what. Before isolation could set in I was approached by another partygoer in a cowboy cosplay. Being an insane movie buff I recognized it as Park Do-won or (the good) from the movie “The Good The Bad and The Weird” he seemed friendly introducing himself as Max McDaniels. I smile at him as he says

“Killer Cowboy outfit what show or movie are you from?” he asks in English. I am not surprised by this being one of the few “black” people present at that party. It made sense everyone assumed I was American. I was, but it was still interesting to see the assumptions made.

“Django from Django unchained,” you say. Max’s eyes light up with elated recognition

“I love that movie!” he exclaims to me. I crack a smile.. as I do I notice his eyes narrow and his gaze focused more intensely, “So who invited you? I'm pretty good friends with the hosts so I'm curious how you got in because I haven't seen you before.” Max added. His tone was pleasant but his energy was defensive. I deduced that he was asking because he was wary of me. Which fair? A big burly black man at a party full of very wealthy and famous people could be a red flag. So I take out my phone and show him the video of a very drunk Vladimir and an equally drunk Galahad inviting me to the party over social media. Following that I showed Mr. McDaniels the string of text messages of them becoming progressively sober and still asking me to come through. The implication was a lady was dying to meet me. Being a sucker for that sort of thing I made a mad dash.

“Oh, you're the videographer and stuntman Vlad mentioned. He called you Dangerfield, but he called you Danger in these videos.” Max questions.

I nod and explain to Max that Danger is my nickname. Max nods in understanding. “I'm sorry that makes so much sense now that I hear it sorry for commenting on it.”

Max and I share a chuckle over some of the messages of their apologizing for their drunk antics. After that Max became noticeably more relaxed around me. At this point, I feel comfortable enough to joke with him.

“So I know you are “Mr. Tough as Nails paleontologist who protects his people” but I would like to point out that you do know me.”I teased. Max looked at me confused before asking “Oh really from where?”

“You’re last two paleontologist digs,” I reply

Max looks at me confused. So I wait 5 minutes then another 2 before he finally recognizes me.

“Oh my God you're our videographer… the rugby dad hat guy. You always wear your college rugby “dad” hat,” he says excitedly. I nod

“I mean I do other things besides that. Like I filmed 2 out of your last 3 seminars. I also did a minor recording and B-roll for the last two digs” I teased further. Max's eyes widen even further as his face goes red.

“You are so right my bad. You're always so professional and don't speak much. Thank you so much for all the impressive work you do. I didn't realize never knew or asked your name. I'm also not used to you not wearing a dad hat,” Max says to me. I chuckle and before the friendship can take root Max is taken by his girlfriend. A pretty little thing named walks by us, “Hey honey who is this?”

“Oh, this is Dangerfield our videographer,” Max answers

“I thought Vlad did that?” the lady asks

“No, he does photography and records collection. Danger specifically does video.” Max replies

“Oh okay. He's handsome. I think she’ll like him.” the lady responds she turns to me and says hi

“Hello Mrs Jimin” I respond. Her eyes go wide.

“You know me.” Mrs. Jimin asks.

“Well yeah, you're a famous pop star,” I reply trying to be witty but not standoffish. Mrs. Jimin smiles and then says

“Well then call me Karina. We're friends now aren't we?” she said pleasantly. I give her a thumbs up and she laughs before turning back to Max focused “Babe we still have the drinks in the car we need to get.” she says. Max nods and goes with her

As he walks away he promises to talk to me later. Karina needed help as it was a lot of drinks according to her.

I was alone again. As I stand there alone I consider leaving until a slightly sober Vladimir crashes into me this time he is already with his girlfriend Natty whom he has met once before under bizarre circumstances. I smile at the couple wearing matching vampire costumes. Having done this dance already I decided to tease them

“Hey, Vlad are you also going to talk to me for a short bit then leave with your girlfriend?” I ask teasingly. Vlad looks at me confused before saying

“No that would defeat the entire purpose of why we invited you here. There was someone we wanted you to meet.” He says matter of fact before leading me to where she was

“Oh okay,” I say as I follow them

“So Danger Vlad tells me you’re also (insert cool term for half-blood here) .” I stop in my tracks and resist the urge to grab one of my revolvers and shoot both of them right there and now. Throwing that term out in the open always left me to trouble me. So I kept my identity and powers hidden as best as possible from those I didn’t know. Vlad notices my dead stop and clenched fist, and readily begins to ameliorate the situation.

“Yo Danger it’s cool she’s one of us. She’s a daughter of Vasundharā” Vlad explains, I scowl but relax. I begin to follow the couple as Natty says how much you’ll (me) love “her” ( the girl they are setting me up with). She also mentions how she is also an ascendant. It was then that I realized that Natty doesn’t know how different ascendant culture is in America. I groan and turn to Vlad

“Yo, she’s very liberal with her identity.” Vlad nods then remembers how I feel about secrecy

“Oh don’t be a scaredy cat nothing bad is going to happen.” As soon as Vladimir said that a loud boom echoed throughout the building I rolled my eyes at him and ran to the area where I heard the noise. The space is the front door and an Oni has appeared, and he is angry. He eyes me out of the bunch and points his kanabo at me.

“You. Thief” The one says slanted. I shrug.

“You dare mock me, thief. You stole the Yomi flames.” The one growls

“Mocking would require me to care. I don’t. Also, I didn't steal anything they were given to me voluntarily.” I replied the one slammed his weapon on the ground.

“You expect me to believe that you a puny human were given the flames of our land by my queen?”

“Well not given per se but I was allowed to learn them so I could copy them later, but that explanation makes less sense so can we skip the banter and just get down to fighting? I’m already bored.” The one charged. My response was that I took out one of my revolvers quicker than a blink and shot the creature in the head. The green eldritch energy flowed through me as it created the blast for the weapon. Which in turn creates the sickened bolt that tears through the Oni’s skull. The party was dead silent. Realization hits me as I remember this wasn’t a dig site I could just talk my way out of so I decide it’s probably best to not be here anymore. I spin the revolver out of habit before holstering it. I tip my hat

“Have a good night y’all,” I say as I leave. As I was racing to the front door I bumped into another person dressed as one of my favorite video game characters. She also seemed to be on her way out. I would later find out that her friends had convinced her to meet this guy but they had left her alone to find him leaving her at the mercy of a bunch of “weirdos” (her words not mine) who made her uncomfortable so she was desperate to get out. She sees me and smiles politely before saying “Nice cosplay.” hoping I wouldn't also be a “weirdo”

I nod back then respond “You as well…wait is that Tifa?” I asked the lady as I recognized the outfit. The young lady smiles with eyes brighter than the sun

“Yeah good eye, you’re the first one to recognize it. Good job.” the girl responds with two thumbs up. She looks up at me with a smile.

“How could I not?” she's like one of my favorite characters in all of gaming”

The Tifa cosplayer smiles, “well then you have great taste then.” she says

“Me? look at you (I walk around her to get the full view) This quality is insane.” I reply hyping her up. The Tifa cosplayer smiles brightly and turns to me with a cocky smirk.

“Oh, flattery will get you everywhere. So what’s your cosplay?” The lady asks

“Oh, I’m Django. The D is silent” I say. Before taking out a revolver and spinning it around. The young lady laughs

“Like from the movie,” she asks I nod surprised. She smiles and adds “I love that movie.” I smile back dumbly admiring her taste in quality Westerns. The two of us stand awkwardly trying to figure each other out before deciding to get back to what the two of us were doing which was leaving the party. We do our awkward goodbyes and prepare to go our separate ways. as we are about to part my brain tells me if I don't ask her out now I'll never get another chance to. I take a chance. I ask if she’s hungry and knows any good food spots around here. The girl gives a hearty chuckle as she gets her car and gestures for me to get in.

We arrive at this small little fried chicken spot.

“Oh just because I’m black you assume I like fried chicken?” I say feigning offense. The lady looks at me in my face and says

“Fried Chicken is delicious I thought everyone liked it.” Her tone is flat as she stares at me confused. She then smiles and laughs making me realize she got I was joking. I joined her on laughing as well. I mean she got me fair and square after all

As I laugh I say “I can’t argue with that.” The lady smirks before saying “Good,” and we walk in.

“Oh hey Sejeong good to see you again. Your usual order I assume?” The person behind the counter says. Sejeong nods. She puts up two fingers. I'm guessing to order two of whatever her normal is (I'm assuming she never told me what the two fingers meant). I turn to the gorgeous (I forgot to mention that she is drop dead 2 gorgeous) lady and say

“Huh Sejeong like the…” and then it all clicks. I pause and get my bearings before repeating “Cool, cool, cool.” As I try not to fanboy over the megastar. Sejeong smirks and says

“Not so witty now huh?”

I pause before reflexively saying, “Hey it’s not every day you meet a K-pop megastar and go on a date with her.”

Sejeong laughs which I learned then is contagious, “Oh so this is a date?” She questions

I nod and fire back, “100% we are at a restaurant hoping to get to know each other. That’s the textbook definition of date.”

Sejeong playfully rolls her eyes laughs and says, “That's true. I’m glad I met you. My friends wanted me to meet this guy who they swore I’d love. They left me at the party to find him leaving me to deal with weirdos like you.” Sejeong says wistfully. “I should have figured their last recommendations have been okay at best” Sejeong adds

I nod and explain how I was at the party to be introduced to someone.

“Oh really what’s your name? If you say Danger or Dangerfield. I’m going to laugh.”Sejeong teases

In kind, I responded, “How did you know my name lady?” Sejeong’s eyes flickered with excitement as they widened. as she compartmented my existence in her mind. Our food arrived. After she’s done processing she asks me a simple question.

“So now that you’ve met me what do you think?” She said with a serious tone.

“Do I include Samantha and Rachel in my evaluation?” Sejeong stares at me wide-eyed. I laugh because see her trying to hide a bemused smile. Feeling a little miffed She goes to smack me but I just smile and take the hit.

“You’re lucky you’re funny.” She says. Sejeongg gestures for me to continue.

“Well, my heart tells me you’re amazing and I already have a crush on you despite knowing you personally all of (I look at my watch for added comedic value) 86 minutes. You’re witty, fun to be around, gorgeous, and overall a great time.” Seeing smiles blushes but then says

“What does your head say?” as she speaks her eyes narrow gauging my response. I decide to have fun with it.

“That’s less glowing. It's telling me that it would never work.“Dude, she’s a superstar what would she ever want from a guy like you? She just likes the attention.” is what my head says.” I respond

Sejeong nods and then asks, “So which will you listen to more?” I pause and respond

“If history is any guide then my heart, but I don’t know guess I’ll have to wait and see. I mean I’m open to anything from a one-night stand to a 100-year relationship. The only thing is it’s a two-person job.” Sejeong nods then says

“well I'm not looking for a one-night stand but I'm also not looking for a relationship right now, but you're pretty cool and I like your humorous honesty.” I smile and thank her. The food arrives. I pray before I eat which Sejeong comments on, “Oh a church boy.” Her tone is seductive and flirtatious but my brain automatically jumps to oh it’s a dealbreaker for her

“Is there something wrong with me being religious?” Momo shakes her head but then clarifies, “That depends on you. You’re not one of those weird religious people right?”

“I believe we have established I’m weird and a Christian so you are going to be a bit more specific as to what you mean by that.” Sejeonf laughs and does the sexiest eye roll I have ever seen.

“Ugh, I hate you.” She groans, “But you are correct. What I mean is the type that uses their religion as a weapon against others.” I shake my head before explaining to her the following

“The only thing I battle with are revolvers wits and the grit of a honey badger, and the occasional staff but that’s when I have to get serious. Also, I only really fight when I have to do am training which is a lot” Sejeong laughs at my statement and then says,

“Well then you should be fine, but it was kind of annoying how you asked that question about “weird Christians.” She teased with an adorable pout.

I chuckle and say, “Sorry that’s my A.U.H.D. talking. I should have figured out what you meant.”

“No you’re fine I should have figured you would be weird and very precise with your language since you are good friends with Vladimir” she relents. I smile and we begin eating. At one point I feel a hand slip in mine. I look up to see her giving me the brightest smile. I smile back “How is it?” She asks. Based on the way she’s holding my hand I can tell she’s nervous so I tell her I like it and that’s my final word. Sejeong rolls her eyes and then smiles again as we continue eating. After we finished she asked me how long I was in Korea and I explained to her a while due to working with Vlad, Max, and Gally.

“Oh okay, so another week?” Sejeong asked. I nodded but counteracted with

“However if something comes up that’s worth the time I’ll stay,” I responded Sejeong chuckled

“Oh, and I’m supposed to convince you?” She said in a challenging tone

“I mean you can if you want to this was mostly an economic choice.” I teased back. Sejeong smiled. As we were finishing up a guy approached us. He had blonde hair and storm-grey eyes.

“Aye Collector.” He said menacingly in English. I turn slowly to the young man. I gesture for Sejeong to get behind me but she stands by my side. I see her ready a knife that I hadn't seen earlier

“ People don't usually call me that with the intention of peace. So I am going to ask are you here to kill me?”

“I don't have to kill you just return what you stole?” the young man said

“And what did I steal?” I asked curious

“Don't play dumb you know I'm after Death’s draw.” the man said confidently

“Yeah, I don't have that. All my stuff are cheap copies.” I replied

“You expect me to believe that especially given your reputation?” the man asked taking out an arching javelin.

“I guess a demonstration is in order then sadly,” I reply. I turn to Sejeong, “I'll handle this .” I say to her. She shakes her head and stands in front of me.

“Look I'd appreciate it if you do not attack my friend. I know he looks scary but he's a sweetheart,” she says sweetly

“A sweetheart who turned an outer being into a divine Treasure.” the young man says skeptically. Sejeong looks at me with surprise as I nod to confirm the story.

“Look dude my Ascendant Ability is called the “A Reveler’s tool kit, is often expansive.” A major part of it allows me to emulate other divine treasures and arts.” I explain, but the man only grew more aggressive. He pointed his javelin at me and in a flash, I shoulder-charged him back to Long Island. Sejeong eyed me intrigued

“How did you do that?” she asked

“I used Lugh’s Long Lunge and made it nonlethal.” Sejeong eyed me and then said, “Tell me everything”

In her car, the first thing Sejeong asked about was my Ascendant status,

“So what type of Ascendant are you; Direct, Legacy, Trance, adopted, or avatar?” she asked excitedly I squinted as before I never really considered it.

“Hybrid I guess,” I answered.

“Interesting, wait how?”

“Um, would it be a bad time to explain that I was never exposed to “proper Ascendant” procedures due to my Christian upbringing, and am only now coming to a fully developed understanding of it?” I asked. Sejeong stopped in her tracks and looked at me then began laughing. I sat in awkward silence for a moment then. She turned and smiled at me.

“That's okay,” Sejeong said with a gracious smile. “It's just I have heard stories of Ascendants reaching adulthood and then becoming claimed and I always wondered what that looked like. Now I know and honestly it's pretty funny.” Sejeong smiled as she spoke. I turned back to her

“So you're also an Ascendant?” I ask. Sejeong nods then replies

“I am a direct one and my parent is Seokga.”

“Oh that's super cool tell me more.” I say

[seabirdtxt]

It's been a while since I made a request to a blog, but I really enjoy your writing, and your AUs got my brain going with ideas (especially the Glitch AU). It has me thinking about how our favorite little Puppet boys would react to some of the... interesting hobbies I have: two of those being things like Doll making/repainting, and cosplaying/ general fantastical costuming.

I feel like both of these hobbies have the potential to lead to both hilarious situations and moments of being a bit... perturbed at best (especially doll making: the random assortment of doll limbs being places, or having naked dolls that are precariously hung from the ceiling to finish drying from paint jobs).

I do know that at least Kabukimono and Wanderer (Scara might have forgotten since he hadn't used the skill in a long time, and Wanderer likely relearned it) know how to sew, so the sewing part could be cute bonding time.

Could be platonic or romantic in nature: both would be fine. And also, fully understand it will probably take you time to get to this, of you even get to it at all. I just appreciate you taking the time to read this request~! Can't wait for your next bits of work: hope you have a wonderful day~!!! 💕💕💕💕

hey!! thanks so much for your request!! this was a funny idea bc i can't imagine any of scara's iterations being any good at collaboration but for all separate reasons lmao

I'm not too knowledgeable about doll making but hopefully you like this anyway :D i wrote it as a bit of a glitch!AU spinoff in my mind, but feel free to imagine any other scenarios these three clowns might come together for hahaha WC. 1.3k

----- ⚘ -----

When the three puppets were told not to enter your room and disturb your hobby workstation, this isn’t what they had in mind. Wanderer thought maybe you did something embarrassing as a hobby, Scaramouche thought it might be something potentially dangerous especially if you intended to keep it a secret from them, while Kabukimono was certain that you did some sort of artistic craft that you preferred to keep hidden until the end product was finished.

All three of them were right, in some way or another. 

The three of them stand in your workshop, staring in horror at the dozens of separated doll components you’d strung up around the edges of the room. Scraps of tiny, doll-sized outfits were scattered around your desk, and a half-painted doll head was mounted on some sort of device in the middle of the chaos. The doll’s single painted eye watches their trespassing with silent judgment.

You’re glad you find them out so soon, and you have exactly three seconds to stop them from touching anything in the workshop.

“WhatareyouguysDOINGinhere?!” Nailed it. 

Kabukimono leaps a vertical foot into the air out of fright at your sudden and shrill outburst, while the other two react in more subdued manners before turning around to face you, standing in the doorway behind them. Your arms are outstretched, palms forward, and you’re braced as though you’re anticipating some sort of impact.

“Don’t. Touch. Anything.” You warn. “Not all of these are dry, and if you smudge anything I’ll have to restart them.”

“Why do you have a bunch of dismembered doll corpses?” Scaramouche asks, jerking his thumb at the precariously hanging doll components.

“A seller in Inazuma asked me if I could help him finish a few dolls, since I told him I used to do it as a hobby back in my world.” You explain, not dropping your guarded position. “If any of you want to eat dinner this week, I suggest you step away from the dolls. Slowly.”

“Can you not call them that?” Kabukimono complains to Scara as the trio carefully shuffle out of your workshop. “They’re not corpses, they just haven’t been put together yet.”

“Well, they aren’t alive either, so what’s your point?” 

“If you need some help completing them, I can pitch in.” The three of you look wide-eyed at Wanderer, who seems to immediately regret making the offer. He shrugs and looks away quickly. “Or not. Whatever.”

“I’d love some help,” you start hesitantly. “But what did you want to help with?”

“I can sew the clothes, I guess.”

Scaramouche’s nose wrinkles at this statement. “You can sew?”

“Why is that so surprising?” Wanderer counters, reaching into the inner lining of his haori and showing off a small, familiar cloth doll. Instantly, Kabukimono is patting himself down with a frantic expression, before pointing at Wanderer accusingly.

“Where did you get that?! I lost it a long time ago!”

“Heh, of course you did.” Wanderer smirks. “I made mine. What, are you telling me you never thought of making yourself a new one?”

“I was never good at doing the small stitches…” Kabukimono pouts, crossing his arms and eyeing the doll jealously. 

“That aside,” Wanderer continues, turning to you. “I can help you finish the clothes for your project dolls. The faster you can finish them, the faster you can retrieve the commission for them, right?”

“That’s true, I guess,” you acquiesce, already running the math in your head. If you could get the commission for the dolls early, you might not have to budget as hard this week. 

“I wanna help too!” Kabukimono declares, raising his hand (a bit redundantly, given he’s standing right next to you).

“Whatever,” Scaramouche snorts and waves dismissively as he begins to walk away. “If that’s what you nerds want to waste your time on, be my guest. As long as you don’t make it my problem, I don’t care what you do in your free time.”

“Party pooper,” you say, sticking out your tongue at his retreating back. “Well, what do you say, guys? Let’s get this bread?”

“Sure,” Wanderer nods, heading back into the workshop.

“What does bread have to do with dollmaking?” Kabukimono asks, even as he’s herded into the room by you.

“I’ll explain later, let’s finish up these bad boys first,” you promise, and the workshop door closes behind you.

----- ⚘ -----

“I made another sword!” Kabukimono declares, hurrying over to your workbench and showing off the tiny doll-sized sword he’d made. The fifth one, so far.

“That’s great, buddy!” You give him a pat, to his delight. “I think we’re okay on swords for now, though, d’you wanna try making something else this time?”

“Okay!”

Wanderer looks up from where he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, a few pins sticking out of his mouth as he uses them to hold his patterns in place. 

“Did your toymaker guy say what kinds of dolls he wanted?” He asks, holding up another utilitarian-looking outfit. “I can’t imagine this is what he had in mind when he asked for your help.”

“I mean, these are kind of edging into action figure territory,” you shrug. “But that’s probably fine. There’s a market out there for everything, nowadays.”

“Make a kimono that looks like the Shogun,” Kabukimono suggests, handing Wanderer some purple fabric. “Everybody likes the Shogun, right? She should be pretty popular.”

You and Wanderer both wince (for different reasons) at Kabukimono’s well-meant statement. However, Wanderer does take the purple fabric and sets it gently aside, and you wonder if he’ll take the suggestion after all. 

“Are you losers done in here? I’m tired of doing the dishes for two days straight,” Scaramouche kicks the door in, uncaring of the delicate work you three are doing. Thankfully, the risky parts are all done, so nothing suffers any damage with his sudden entrance. Scara drops three bowls onto your workbench, each piled with fried rice and vegetables.

“Ha, you’d make a great housewife,” Wanderer snickers, earning himself a smack on the back of his head. “Ow.”

“Thank you!” Kabukimono takes his bowl and brings it to where he’s working on something, hopefully not another sword. 

“Thanks,” you say as well, giving Scara a genuine smile. The puppet scowls and leaves as quickly as he’d come in.

“Don’t bother! It doesn’t benefit anyone if you drop dead from starvation, you know?” he sneers over his shoulder as he slams the door shut. 

There’s silence as you three eat the lunch that was generously provided, stacking the bowls and putting them beside the door for when you guys go for your next break.

“I think I’m done after I finish this last outfit,” Wanderer sighs, holding up the unfinished garment. It looks hilarious in his hands, a cheerful pink and purple kimono in stark contrast to his deadpan expression.

“I’m almost done too!” Kabukimono adds, holding up his latest project: a doll-sized armor set. You smile gratefully at the both of them, even as you rub your temples with a sigh.

“Okay, great, I’ll put these together and bring them to the toymaker later this afternoon, then!” You say, hoping you sound enthusiastic about it. You think about the mismatched collection of outfits and sword accessories, wondering how you were going to sell this to your temporary employer. 

----- ⚘ -----

As it turns out, if there’s one thing Inazumans like, it’s swordsmen. The toymaker looks in awe at your half dozen tiny samurai, handing you a pouch of mora with a pleased word of thanks. 

As you’re headed back home, you get a telepathic message from Wanderer.

KABUKIMONO WANTS TO KNOW WHEN WE’RE GETTING MORE DOLLS.

‘He fired me, we’ll have to do something else,’ you think back, hoping you don’t sound too guilty in your head.

As much as you love these guys, you aren’t sure you could take another two days straight of having to collab with them. Hopefully buying some treats on the way home will placate them.

—– ⚘ —–

^ reader trying to juggle all three scara iterations without breaking any of the dolls LMAO

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

DRABBLE: HE GETS HORNY FROM YOUR COSTUME 🎃 (18+) (ONE PIECE) (For Fem!Readers)

Writer's Note: Happy almost Halloween, y'all! I wanted to post some drabbles for spooky season this year just cuz I'm working & it's been hard to write my fics. BUT I'm gonna try to post at least one oneshot for Halloween & I'll be posting a JJK drabble too. Enjoy! -Jazz

*********

LUFFY (YOU COSPLAY AS HIM)

“Y/N, come oooooon!” he whined from his bed. “If we’re late, we’re gonna miss out on all of the candy the villagers are givin’ out!” 

You rolled your eyes standing in your shared washroom connected to your shared bed chambers. You had your own bedroom located in the girls’ cabins, but Luffy insisted on moving you into his bedroom so he could be closer to you. “Alright, alright, hang on,” you sighed, putting the finishing touches on your makeup. “Lemme just add this and…done!” 

You smiled at your costume for tonight before turning to the bathroom door where you could hear Luffy whining and groaning about Zero beating him for the candy. “Alright, you big baby,” you giggled. “You ready to see my costume for tonight?” 

“Oooh, wait, wait!” Luffy excitedly protested, seeming to forget about the candy already. “Lemme guess first. Hmm…you’re a ghost!” 

“No,” you giggled. 

“A vampire?” 

“No.” 

“Ooh, ooh, I know! You’re one of those bunnies I see around this time of year with the ears and those fishnet stocking things!” 

“Not even close, babe,” you laughed. “I’ll give you a hint: it has to do with water.” You could practically hear the gears in Luffy’s head turning. You stayed away from the door, hidden behind it. “You’re a mermaid,” he guessed. “No…a fish? No, no, a pirate!” 

“Close!” you replied, and opened the door to the bathroom where you jumped out into the bedroom where Luffy said. “I’m the best pirate and captain in the world!” you giddily said. “Ta-da! I’m you!” 

Luffy’s wide grin fell when he got a look at you and your cosplay of him. You had on the cut-off shorts, slides, and even an exact replica of his straw hat. You adorned an open, red vest that made your skin pop and applied a bandeau bra that matched your skin tone and kept your breasts secure. You even got the X scar on his chest down to the T, applying enough purple and red makeup to make it appear as real as possible. You wanted to really gag him with this costume. 

And you did, though his awestruck expression made you nervous. “Do you…like it?” you carefully asked. 

Luffy ticked his eyes up to yours and instantly, his mouth split into a humongous grin that brightened the room. “Like it?!” he practically screamed. “Y/N, I love it! I mean, look at you! You’re me!” He began to laugh his hysterical, contagious laugh, a hand on his belly. “You look so, so good! You’ve even got the hat!” 

You melted at his reaction, glad he loved it and glad to have gotten the reaction you were fishing for. “I figured I could do something different,” you said. You smirked playfully at him, placing your hands on your hips. “Guess that means I’m the captain now.” 

Luffy’s laughter immediately stopped, a fire flashing behind his eyes that excited you. “What’s wrong?” you giggled. “Don’t like that idea?” Slowly, he shook his head, not even speaking. The excitement inside of you continued to grow, making your stomach flip. “So what are you gonna do about it?” you challenged. “You wanna fight about it?” 

Yes, Luffy did want to fight about it, but not at all in the way you were thinking. His way of “fighting” meant having you on your knees with your ass hiked in the air and your straw hat nearly falling off of your head as your boyfriend snapped his hips behind you again and again, plunging his cock deeper inside of your sobbing, wet pussy with every single second that passed.

“What’s my name?” he asked. “Who’s making you feel this good?” 

His hand looped around to grab your chin, folding it firmly. You could hardly form a coherent sentence with how hard his hips were thrusting into you, giving you blinding pleasure over and over again. “God, Luffy!” you shouted. 

Luffy wasn’t pleased with that. “Uh-uh, baby,” he grunted. “Wrong answer.”

He shifted his hips to hit your G-spot, emitting sounds from you that came from the deepest parts of your chest as you were plunged into otherworldly pleasure.

“Captain!” you whined, finally catching onto his game. “Fuck, captain, you make this pussy feel so good!” 

Luffy grinned and let you dig your face into the mattress again as he pounded your pussy from behind. “That’s right,” he chuckled. “I’m the captain. I’m your captain, the one and only.”

ZORO (MORTAL KOMBAT COSPLAY)

“What the fuck are you wearing?” he asked, looking absolutely befuddled. 

He sat in his private training room on a bench while you stood in front of him, your hands on your hips and an excited smile on your face. You stood in your Mortal Kombat cosplay which consisted of a very skin-tight outfit with little to be hidden––a stretchy bodysuit that you paired with fishnet stockings and high-knee boots that you felt like you could kick someone with.

“It’s my Halloween costume,” you giggled. “You like it? I thought the bodysuit was a little see-through, but…” 

You turned around, picking with your bodysuit which kept bunching up in your ass. Though the wedgies pissed you off, your ass did look amazing in the costume. You felt like the sexiest ninja alive. When you turned back to Zoro, you noticed how red his face was and the weird look in his eyes. “What?” you asked. “You don’t like it?” 

He shook his head and turned away, busying himself with cleaning his weights. “I didn’t say that,” he grumbled. 

You smirked at him and leaned against the bench he sat on. “So you do like it?” you chuckled. “You like seein’ me in this, hm?” You took a seat next to him, crossing your fishnet-clad legs over one another. Zoro barely took one glance at you, though it was more for his sake than yours. If he were to take another look at you, there would be nothing stopping him from bending you over this bench and fucking you right out of this costume. 

“I didn’t say that either,” he grunted. “I’m just thinkin’ about how cold you’ll be. That outfit is only coverin’ so much of you.” He got up from his spot, holding a dumbbell in his hand that he went to place on the rack with the others. 

“Uh-uh,” you replied, not buying his nonchalant attitude one bit. “So should I change?” He didn’t respond or look at you, which made you smile from ear to smile. You knew you were getting to him. Zoro was never a man to voice his arousal or flustered feelings too often, but his body language spoke volumes. “Here, maybe this will change your mind about it,” you giggled. 

Out of your belt, you pulled out a fake sword that glinted in the light. “Look-it! And no, it’s not real.” Zoro turned to you and his eyes widened an inch at the sight of the sword in your hand. He walked towards it with heavy footfalls from his boots and examined the sword. “It damn well looks it,” he commented, in awe at how real the fake sword looked. “Just don’t pull this out at the party. You might make the wrong impression.” 

“Guess I’ll have to leave it here then,” you sighed, placing it on your lap. You looked up at Zoro who was still staring down at the sword. You could almost feel the temptation radiating off of him. “You can touch it, you know,” you purred. “But only if I can touch yours.” His emerald eyes met yours, noticing your change in tone and the shift in the air. 

You took his hand in yours and placed it on the sword, causing him to glide a finger over hilt. You then stood up and pressed your lips against the thick column of his neck, smiling at his hitched breath. You then pressed your tits against his big arm, giving him a feel of what he’d be missing if he didn’t admit how much he loved this outfit. “Pull it out for me,” you whispered against his ear. “We can have a sword fight.” 

He practically shoved you aside as he walked away from you as fast he could while you hysterically laughed at your goofiness. “You’re fuckin’ ridiculous,” he sighed. And ridiculous you were…but so was he. He wanted to kick himself when he realized how hard he was for you. “Goddammit,” he muttered, picking up at his sweats. 

You noticed immediately. “Wait…are you hard?”

Zoro was still turned away from you and went to clean his other exercise equipment, but you stopped him by jumping in front of him. He glared at you, wondering what else you were planning. He didn’t at all expect you to grab a handful of his hardened cock, emitting a groan from him. “You are!” you laughed. “So you do like the costume!” 

Face beat red and clammy, he batted your hand away. “Shut up,” he growled. “What the hell were you expecting walkin’ around in that? It’s like you planned this from the jump.” Silence swelled around you and he raised an eyebrow at your wordless response. “Didn’t you?” he demanded. 

Now he was getting it. Once again, you pressed yourself up against him and this time, he didn’t shy away. “You know, if we’re going to a party, I’m gonna have to move around in this.” You placed a hand on his broad chest, admiring the taught skin and tatted ink across his big pecs. “Think you can help me test that out in twenty minutes till the party starts?” 

A fire flashed behind Zoo’s eyes as he gripped your ass in one hand, both cheeks fitting in his palm. You whimpered at the rough contact while his fingers on his other hand toyed with the zipper at the back of your costume. “I can do that and more, mama,” he growled. “Now how the fuck do you take this shit off?” 

Thirty minutes later, you found yourself on your back, still in your costume, with Zoro on top of you and fucking you into the mattress below in your shared bedroom. The bed was rocking like a damn ship on a stormy sea with how much hard he was fucking you, your legs up and on his shoulders while his thick cock plunged in and out of you. “Z-Zoro!” you whined through pants and moans of pleasure. “We’re gonna be late!” 

Your man shook is head above you, his face red and beads of sweet cascading down his handsome face. “I don’t give a fuck,” he grunted. “Should’ve known better than to have teased me like that. Now you’re gonna take all of this cum, mama.” 

And you did. You weren’t too happy when he got nut on your costume and laughed about it. 

SANJI (SLUTTY ANGEL)

He didn’t say anything for at least ten minutes. You thought the man was dead. 

Ten minutes before, he was fine. You had pulled him away from his duties in the kitchen whipping up dinner before the big Halloween bash that the island you and the crew were currently relaxing on was throwing. Dinner that night consisted of clam and salmon fettuccini with buttered rolls, salad, and pumpkin and ghost-shaped cookies for dessert. Your man really knew had to throw down in the kitchen, which is why he is the chef of the crew. 

Sanji was quickly to abandon his cooking to attend to you––his love; his beauty; his one and only. You stood in the middle of the kitchen with him, giggling as he ran his hands over your sides in your fluffy robe. “You sure dinner won’t burn?” you curiously asked.

He shook his head, practical hearts in his eyes. "The sauce is simmering and I just put the rolls on,” he replied, his hands still roaming. “The food is fine, my love. Now, what it is you wished to show me?” 

He took your hands and pressed a heated kiss to them, always the one for physical touch as his love language. Lucky for him, it was yours too. You stood up on your tip toes and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, causing him to shiver. “I have a surprise for you,” you whispered. “It’s right under here.” You toyed with the tie of your robe, smirking up at him. 

Sanji’s mind began to run wild with all of the naughty possibilities of what could be under your robe. Were you naked? Or in a cute little set of lingerie that adorned your skin and made it look soft and supple? When you finally yanked on the tie and let the robe fall, he was floored. None of his fantasies could’ve prepared him or had matched up to what was actually under your robe though. 

When he saw you in your angel costume, he just about died a thousand times standing there. “Ta-da!” you sang. “It’s my Halloween costume for tonight’s bar crawl after dinner. Nami picked it out for me. You like?” You twirled for him, causing the fake, fluffy white wings taped to your back to flutter behind you. 

Sanji didn’t know where to look first. You filled out the white corset bodysuit you wore quite nicely, your luscious breasts pushed up against the bodice where fake white feathers traced along the top as well as around the hem of your stockings that looked so damn good on your legs. You paired glittery, silver heels and a fluffy fake halo with your outfit along with a white collar where a silver heart dangled cutely around your neck, nearly smothered by your gorgeous titties the way Sanji wanted to be.

You looked absolutely ravishing. 

Sanji didn’t even realize he was standing there, mouth agape and completely frozen. Noticing that your man’s brain had begun short-circuiting, you stepped up to him and snapped your fingers in front of his face. “Sanji, baby?” you asked. “Sanji, can you hear me?” 

That’s when he finally blinked and a trickle of blood ran down his nose. A nosebleed. You barely reacted, having become used to your boyfriend popping nosebleeds when it came to you and your sexiness. He covered his nose immediately, luckily stopping the blood from spurting out all over you. “Hang on one moment,” he said, his voice muffled by his hand clapped over his mouth. 

When he ran out of the room to assess the damage, you held your stomach in hysterical laughter. That was one of the reactions you were expecting. Minutes later, he came back, nose clean and free of blood “Damn, baby, you popped a nosebleed for me?” you laughed. You went up to him and wrapped your arms around him, pressing your body into his. 

He held onto your hips and pressed himself farther into you, making you gasp. Mostly because of the very real, very hard bulge he was now packing in his pants. That was another reaction you were hoping for.

“That ain’t all I’m popping right now,” he playfully whispered against your ear. He pressed a soft kiss there before moving down to your neck, littering your skin in kisses as he did compliments. “You look absolutely amazing, my love. Ravishing, even. No–angelic! Beyond heavenly!” 

Now he was yelling. “Okay, Sanji,” you giggled, stopping him from alerting the crew. "I get it.” He pulled away to look down at you, his gaze full of adoration and love that made you melt into your heels. “You are the prettiest angel I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he sighed. “I must be in heaven right now.” 

Your hand trailed down to grab his hip, your fingers sneaking under his shirt to press against warm, bare skin and toned muscle. “Not yet,” you purred, “but later.” Sanji shuddered at your touch, pressing his bulge into you fully. “Why later?” he questioned before pressing the slightest kiss on your neck. “Why not now?” 

His lips worked your neck as he began to slowly grind into you, emitting a soft whimper from your lips. His big hands toyed with your hips, running over the fake feathers there. “S-Sanji,” you stuttered, “the dinner–“ 

“Is fine,” he growled against your neck. “I know my cooking, love, and I know it won’t be finished for another twenty-five to thirty minutes. We have plenty of time for that.”

He then pulled away and took your hand, a love-drunk grin on his handsome face that you couldn’t ignore or deny. “Now, my pretty little angel, off to your bedroom so you can take me to heaven.” 

And when Sanji took you to his bedroom and slid into your pussy for the first time that night, he could practically see the pearly gates opening for him. Your fake halo and wings shook the harder he fucked you, one hand groping your naked breast while the other gripped your calve.

“Fuck, Sanji!” you shout to the ceiling, seeing stars behind your eyelids as his cock head glides against your G-spot. 

Sanji grinned down at you, his gorgeous body coated in a light sheen of sweat and his smile love drunk. “That’s right, angel,” he moaned as he kissed your foot hiked up near his ear. “Take my cock. Let me take you to heaven too.” 

Girl, you practically saw Jesus when he was done with you. 

LAW (SCHOOLGIRL)

“What’s under the robe?” he asked, squinting confusedly at you. “You’re showering now? I thought you wanted to go to this stupid ass party.” 

He sat on the side of his bed in a white tank top that hung loosely on his body, exposing his tatted skin and hard pecs that you love to suck on. You stand in front of him in your fluffy bath rope despite the white stockings underneath. The smile you wore faded at his sour attitude and your hands fell from the flap of your robe.

“Look, if you’re gonna have that attitude, you can stay home,” you scoffed. “I’d have no problem picking up a guy to dance with me in this little get-up.” 

You twirled around to stalk toward the bathroom, missing Law’s glare directed at the back of your head.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked, fire in his eyes. You scoffed once more, annoyed. You knew he was never a party person, but he also knew Halloween was your favorite holiday. The least he could do was act excited for Luffy’s Halloween party. 

Supposedly, it was taking place on the Jolly Roger ship in the middle of the ocean and every single one of his friends (which were a lot) were invited, including you and Law. You wanted to look extra cute and sexy tonight, mostly for your man. But so far, he was coming off like he didn’t deserve any of that.

You turned to him, sniffing rudely at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” you muttered. 

In a poof of nothing, he was gone from his spot on the bed and suddenly standing in front of you and the bathroom door. When you turned around, you nearly slammed into him. “Hey!” you shouted, glaring up at him. But Law could glare like it was his profession, making your stomach flip. 

“Don’t play with me like that,” he demanded, not even having to raise his voice. “Now what did you mean by that? And what’s under there?” He cocked a pierced eyebrow at your robe, giving you the impression that he would take it off if you didn’t. 

You rolled your eyes, but disrobed yourself anyway. There, you revealed your costume to him––a sexy, slutty schoolgirl outfit with a white top tied at your midsection to show a sliver of tummy and low enough to show off your cherry red bra underneath and a blue plaid mini skirt that stopped at mid-thigh and hiked up slightly in the back, barely covering your asscheeks where matching red lace panties were.

You glared up at Law. “There,” you scoffed. “Happy now?” 

Law didn’t answer. He was too busy running his eyes over your tits which practically spilled out of your bra and how you filled out the little school skirt. “It was gonna be a surprise, but then you decided to be a grump and ruin it,” you blandly continued. 

You watched his face for a reaction, but it was completely blank. Then again, Law had a poker face that he could’ve been born with. “Where…are your pants?” he carefully asked.

You almost laughed at the randomness of his question. Was he dumb? “In my drawer,” you replied. “Pants would’ve ruined the outfit. That’s why I’ve got stockings.” You pointed down at your skintight, white stockings that Law thought were absolutely adorable and wanted by his ears while he fucked you stupid in your school skirt. 

He was still quiet, giving you the impression that he was criticizing your costume. It made you nervous. “So do you like it or…?” Still, he said nothing. But when you went to close your robe again and forget about this whole party, he put a hand on yours, stopping you. “You sure you have to go to this stupid ass party?” he asked. 

“Law,” you criticized him, “it’s not–“ 

“Because I think it’d be may more fun for you to stay here and let me fuck you in this,” he continued without missing a single beat. You paused, blinking at him. “W-What?” you dumbly stuttered. 

You now noticed how hooded and dark his gaze had become. He stepped toward you and you instinctively stepped back. “You heard me,” he softly growled. “You talkin’ ‘bout meeting some stranger to spend time with at this party just to spite me, when in reality, they’d have no idea what to do with this.” 

He took another step your way and you stepped back, ending up falling into the bed back first. You gasped as you tripped backwards and Law immediately found his perch above you where he stooped down to run his lips over your breasts. “Stop,” you softly whined. “C’mon, Law, I have to–“ 

Your words died in your throat, replaced with a broken moan as one of Law’s skillful hands traveled down between your thighs to rub your pussy through your panties. He did it slowly; deliberately; taking his sweet time getting you wet as his lips kissed your neck.

“Could he do this?” he asked, still referring to that imaginary guy at the party you probably wouldn’t have met tonight. “Could he make my naughty girl feel like this?” 

He nibbled at your earlobe, causing you to gasp. “Answer me,” he demanded. 

“No,” you whimpered. “Law, please.” He knew exactly what you were begging for, but he wasn’t going to give it to you that easily. 

“No, he couldn’t,” he agreed. “And other than a punishment, I think you need some reeducation.” He then rolled off of you, standing before you in all of his big, muscled glory, his cock hard beneath his sweats. “If you wanna be a naughty girl and dress like this, it’s only fair.” 

So when he sat down on the bed and patted his lap, you absolutely knew what time it was. You ended up missing the party. Your ass stung too much from Law’s big hand spanking it to walk, your body ached from his rough fucking session to move, and your school skirt was stained with his cum as he pumped his cock all over your ass as he fucked you out of three orgasms. 

And you loved every second of it.

SHANKS (SAILOR GIRL) 

He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.

Seriously. He’d been playing poker with his crew for an hour and lost three rounds because he kept staring at your fine ass from across the bar. 

He just couldn’t get over your little Halloween costume. It looked as if you were a sailor judging by the blue mini skirt that barely covered your plump asscheeks, striped low-cut top where he could just make out the red lace of your bra underneath, suspenders, and sailor hat tipped low over your head. You were standing by the bar laughing with Nami in her mermaid costume, and Robin in her skin-tight cheetah costume that Sanji was all over earlier. 

Shanks felt like a old pervert watching you, especially with how his body reacted to the sight of you. His heart thumped and his cock surged in his pants, desperate to feel you. Why the fuck did you have to come here dressed like this of all places? Sure, it was a Halloween party, but it still wasn’t fair! Did you realize what you were doing to him?

“Damn, Shanks!” Yasopp laughed along with Shanks’ crew. “You’re losin’ everything!” Shanks came back to reality, realizing that one of his mates won and took his share of coin, emitting laughter from everyone surrounding him. “That’s the fourth round in a row,” Yasopp pointed out. “You losin’ the magic touch, Captain?” 

Shanks didn’t have the energy to defend himself or even give a shit. Not when he could hear your gorgeous laughter from across the bar. At this point, his cock was ready to rip a hole through his pants with how much he was chubbing against the fabric. He stood abruptly, causing Yasopp to look at him like he was crazy. “Just hold my spot,” he said, barely even sparing his crew member a glance. “I’ll be right back.” 

Yasopp noticed his captain’s hyper-fixation on a particular point across the bar and turned to see who exactly Shanks had his sights set on. As soon as he saw you in your sailor fit, it hit him. “Ohhh,” he said in realization. He smirked up at Shanks knowingly. “Alright then. Just try not to scare her off.” 

Shanks didn’t even give him an answer. He just downed a shot to give him some liquid courage and put on the charm that he knew was there beneath the butterflies you gave him. They, however, only gave him a harder time, fluttering about in a frenzy the closer he got to you. He could smell your perfume now, giving him some very horrible, dirty, nasty visions that he couldn’t wipe away the harder he tried. All he could do was act like you weren’t getting him hard when he finally approached you and the girls.

“Hey, you,” he smoothly said, already putting on as much of the charm as he could while tipsy. 

You turned around to face him, holding your rum punch. The glass was stained with your red lipstick that he desperately wanted to see around the head of his cock. “Shanks!” you happily said. “You finally took a break from poker to be with us freaks?” 

“More like with one freak in particular,” Nami giggled, giving Shanks a knowing smirk. She knew exactly what he was here for, as did Robin. “We’ll just leave you two alone,” the black-haired beauty said with a sly smile. “We’ll be playing pool if you need us, Y/N.” She gave you a wink before walking off with Nami, leaving you two alone. 

You gave Shanks an apologetic smile. “Sorry about them,” you sighed. “They’re very protective.” Your eyes darted to the left while you sipped on your drink. You appeared shy and almost nervous around him. Unbeknownst to you, it made him feel a lot more confident despite his horniness. 

“As they should be,” he replied. “Especially in that little get-up.” He nodded at your costume, emitting a cute little giggle from your lips. “So you’re a sailor? I didn’t realize they made skirts that short for ‘em.” 

“Yeah,” you said, almost shyly. “Figured I stick to a sea-based aesthetic for my Halloween fit this time around. The skirt was a little too short for my liking, but Nami insisted I wear it.” You picked at the skirt, trying to tug it down over your luscious thighs that Shanks pictured licking on. “Is it too much?” you asked, second guessing. 

Shanks wanted to do everything in his power to make sure you didn’t second guess shit about yourself. Didn’t you realize how fucking sexy you were? “Not at all,” he replied. “You look perfect in it.” You smiled lightly at his compliment, making him feel like he won the fucking lottery. “I’m sure all of these other drunk, horny bastards would agree with me,” he chuckled. 

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “What, you’re seriously tellin’ me you ain’t notice all the eyes on you since you walked in here?” he asked. Even he noticed it, especially from Sanji’s perving ass. He made Shanks’ horniness look tame. 

“Well, they’re irrelevant anyways,” you said, your pretty, brown eyes trailing down to stare at the floor. Shanks raised an eyebrow at your response. “And why is that?” He asked, his interest piqued. 

“Because they’re not you,” you murmured. 

Shanks heard you. It was impossible not to with how close he was to you, even over the music and loud chatter in the bar. He was initially shocked by how bold of a statement that was, especially from you, but then he grew even more insatiable for you. Now that he knew that the feeling he felt for you was mutual, he was more than ready to stop the flirty shit and get right to having his tongue down your throat; his hands on your ass; his lips on yours. 

But he wanted to hear it again, louder this time. No more of that shy shit. So he stepped closer to you until his chest was right in your line of sight, blocking out everything behind him so you couldn’t escape him. “Sorry, what was that?” he whispered. “You’re gonna have to speak up for me, darlin’. It’s too loud for these old ears to pick up your pretty voice if you’re talkin’ low.” 

He could how your body reacted to his words––your breath hitched; your teeth sunk into your bottom lip; your eyes grew hooded as they peered up at him through your lashes. “I said because they’re not you, Captain,” you softly replied, your voice taking on a more seductive tone that Shanks noticed immediately. 

Yeah. He was definitely fucking you. He’d take you out for the finest lobster dinner and a nice walk on the town later, but right now? He needed to feel you squeezing around him and your soft, pretty voice letting out those moans he knew were inside of you. 

“So you wore this for me, hm?” he questioned. His fingers toyed with your skirt, making your breath hitch again. “Interesting. Maybe we can discuss more about this over a walk?” You looked up at him, your lips still caught between your lips. You didn’t nod or even say yes. You just took his hand when he offered it and let him lead you out of the bar into the night. 

Moments later, under the starry sky and in the quietest part of town, miles down away from the bar, you and Shanks find yourselves together with his cock buried deep inside of you and one hand pinning your thigh up against his hip while his other hand had your wrists pinned against a brick wall. Soft moans and gasps left your lips every time his cock slid inside of you, stretching out your wet walls, while he groaned at the feeling of you wrapped around him.

Your soft hands gripped his shoulders as his hips nailed into yours, your nails digging into his broad shoulders. You were doing your best to keep quiet, but it felt so good that you just couldn’t. That made him want to cum faster than he planned. “Sorry we couldn’t do this in a nicer place, sugar,” he groaned. “You just look too damn good to pass on.” 

His hand slid down under your teeny, tiny skirt to grip and toy with your ass, your panties at your ankles. A shuddering moan escaped your lips as his pelvis rubbed against your clit, sending shivers throughout your body. “Fuck, I don’t care,” you whined into his ear. “Just don’t stop! Please, Shanks!” 

Shanks pulled away to look down at you, his body pinning you harder again the wall. “That’s not my name, darlin’,” he sternly said. “Correct yourself or you’ll be missin’ out on an orgasm tonight.” He slowed down his thrusts and he swore that your soul nearly left your body.

“Captain!” you shouted to the starry skies. “Please make me cum, Captain!” He smirked happily at your reaction and his cock surged in response. “That’s much better,” he chuckled. “Now cum on this cock, sugar.” 

And you did, right at the same time he burst inside of you, leaving cum dripping down your thighs only covered by the skirt he pulled down for you. The panties though? He kept those. 

BUGGY (HARLEY QUINN COSPLAY)

“Is this you coming out as a slut?” he curiously asked. “‘Cause you didn’t have to go through all this trouble, doll face. I already knew.” 

He stood in the bathroom brushing his teeth while you stood behind him in the Halloween costume that you were very proud of. You made the outfit and did your makeup yourself. But his reaction sucked all the joy and excitement out of you instantly. 

You smacked him upside the head, earning a glare through the bathroom mirror. “Dickhead!” you shouted, irked at him trying hard to peck at your nerves. “It’s my Halloween costume! I’m Harley Quinn!” 

You decided to go for the Harley Quinn outfit from the Batman animated series, with the red and black checkered jester one-piece and hat with the cute little pom-poms that dangled from either side of your hat. You paired it with some heeled leather boots and Harley’s mallet which you painted during your downtime. You also did your makeup, painting your lips red and wearing a mask over your eyes that Harley often wore in the show. 

You felt cute and sexy. Sexy enough to seduce your clown boyfriend after a night of trick-or-treating…but of course, he had to be a dick and ruin your plans for role-play sex. He turned to you now, standing big and tall so he practically blocked out the sink behind him.

“I don’t know who that is,” he deadpanned. “And were you in my makeup again? ‘Cause that red lipstick looks awfully familiar.” He squinted at your lipstick, running a hand over his blue facial hair. 

“No,” you sighed, rolling your eyes behind your mask. “And she’s from Batman. You know the DC comics?” Buggy still stared at you like he had no idea what you were saying. Then a light flickered behind his eyes. “Ohhh, nerdy shit,” he snickered. “Figures as much.” 

He turned back around to the bathroom mirror, nearly dripping toothpaste on his wife beater than he filled out completely. Seriously: Buggy is huge. Anytime you stood near him, he made you feel like an ant (which also turned you on). “Says the guy who walks around in clown makeup,” you retorted. “The only nerd here is you, Buggy.” 

He smirked in the mirror as he spat in the sink bowl and then dabbed at his mouth with a towel. “And yet people still tremble at the sight of me,” he cockily chuckled. He turned back around to face you, his eyes trailing over how your body filled out the jester suit. “So now what? Am I supposed to fuck you or something?” 

You scoffed at his brazen words, planting your hands on your hips. “Oh, my God, you’re horrible,” you groaned, frustrated. “You’re supposed to take me out trick-or-treating!” 

Buggy’s eyes widened at you and your plan. ”In that?” he asked, surprised that you even came up with such an idea. You nodded, not at all piecing together how much the suit stuck to your form. It left nothing for imagination, your titties and ass pushing against the fabric. “In that suit, you’d be getting more than just candy, sweetheart,” he chuckled, turning back around to fix his ponytail. He took the aqua-blue locks out of his hairband, letting it fall down his back. 

You glared at him, wondering why you even tried in the first place…until an idea came to mind. You smirked at him as he continued to ignore you and prep himself. “Oh, I bet I would,” you purred. “All the fathers out there, especially, will probably be very happy to see me and give me every single bit of their candy.” 

Buggy stopped moving entirely, leaving his hair out of its ponytail. “Maybe Shanks would appreciate my costume a little more, you think?” you asked. “Maybe I should see for myself.” 

You turned to walk out of the bathroom, a giddy smile on your face as you laughed to yourself. That smile fell from your face the moment Buggy’s disembodied hand zoomed across the room to wrap around your throat. It squeezed, hard, emitting a gasp from you as you struggled to breathe. Buggy’s heavy footfalls thudded behind you as he came up to you.

“Say that again, slut,” he growled. “You know damn well that redheaded bitch couldn’t do shit with you. You’re way too much of a deviant little cockslut for him.” 

His hand squeezed your throat tighter, making you squeak out a noise between a gasp and a whimper. His other hand slid down between your thighs, feeling the heat radiating there. “Admit it,” he demanded. 

His grip loosened, giving you a chance to breathe. And be a fucking brat. “Not until you admit how much you love this costume,” you weakly shot back. 

Buggy pressed himself against you, giving you a feel of his hard-on that slid against your lower back.

“Maybe,” he sighed. “After I’m done fucking that mouth until this makeup runs.” He turned your face to his and ran a thumb over your lips, smudging your lipstick. “Maybe then I’ll love this stupid costume even more.” 

A devious glint appeared in his eyes, giving you a taste of what was to come next for you.