#here though i’m not sure. it could be taken either way that she’s keeping him here or that they’re both stuck | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seancekitsch · 13 days ago

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BONNIE YOUR THREESOMES ARE PEAK PLEASE WRITE JAYVIK X READER PLEASE

hehehehe this was more involved than i thought it would be

summary: you and viktor get bored and jealous at a gala, threesome ensues after

m/m/f, dom!vik, switch! mostly sub reader, sub! jayce, smut, hehehehe

“I hate these things,” you say, but you always get dressed to the nines whenever there’s a gala, not a hair out of place and the fanciest gowns that otherwise rot in the background of your closet. You always make sure you look your best for your men at these things.

“I hate these things,” Viktor says, but he never fails to pull you onto his lap when he’s sure no one is looking. He always presses long kisses into your exposed skin that leave you flustered and giggly. He always makes sure you’re taken care of and more than flirted with when you go to a gala.

“I hate this,” you’ll say halfway through the night, angrily picking at your nails between glasses of champagne as you watch Jayce be hit on by yet another investor, “Must we pimp him out?”

“I hate it too,” Viktor agrees, but he doesn’t answer your question. You both know what this is, a necessity that brews a vicious anger in your gut. Jealousy and possessiveness brew like a venom as the two of you eat caviar and french fries on the outskirts of a ballroom. Viktor keeps an eye on your scowl as he leans on the table.

“I’m mad,” you’ll pout, when you can finally tug on Jayce’s jacket and pull him near, “You’re ours.”

He’ll just laugh and urge you to finish your last champagne glass before the carriage arrives.

He throws his jacket over you as Viktor’s free arm comes around your waist. To any bystander, it looks as if the two inventors are holding up a drunk girl. In reality, they can’t keep their hands off of you.

You’re thankful the carriage driver is discreet, with noise you’re making. Viktor actively holds your top half, your chest haphazardly thrown over his as he keeps you in place. Viktor messes up your hair, pushing it all away from your face. Jayce is relentless, bordering on mean with his teasing. His too warm hands dance around your inner thighs and drag along your skin. He’s long since discarded your panties and shoved them into his pocket as he kneels on the floor of the carriage and grins up at you in the moonlight.

“Jayce, please,” You beg.

“Are you kidding?” is how he responds, his voice low and harsh, “don’t think I didn’t see the show you were putting on with Vik.”

You smile sheepishly, and look up to where a dark purple spot blooms on the man’s throat.

“You were pretty mean to tease him like that,” Viktor says, and you realize there will be no orders for mercy in this carriage for you.

The walk from the carriage to the elevator is a struggle, your legs feeling like jelly from all of Jayce’s teasing and touching as the men crowd on either side of you. Jayce lifts you as the elevator doors open, one of his hands grabbing not so subtly at your ass. This is where it gets risky, as anyone after hours could blow the little cover your trio has.

The mood shifts as the elevator doors close, and your feet touch the ground as you both look to Viktor. Always, you and Jayce look to Viktor. Jayce holds you close, his arms caging you in. Viktor leans against the wall of the lift, his hand unbuttoning his waistcoat as he smiles at the two of you.

“You made her upset at the gala,” he states simply, looking up at the taller man, “Let’s make sure she feels loved enough to not complain so much next time.”

Anticipation swells in your chest, excitement having you ready to tear at their clothes right here and now, though you don’t move an inch.

Ironic though, that Viktor brings up your jealousy. As if he himself does not have an essay worth of complaints when he himself feels that way. As if he is not the biggest complainer in Zaun and Piltover combined. You voice none of that though.

Only a small whispered “Thank you, V,” leaves your lips.

“Touch her,” comes Victor’s voice from the couch, and instantly warm hands are upon you. Jayce gropes from your hips to your chest and back again, his warm fingers leaving a blazing train in their wake, wildfires breaking out upon your skin under his touch.

“So pretty,” Jayce breathes, his voice strained and breathy as he kisses along your shoulder. Jayce pushes the top of your dress from your shoulders, and then upon seemingly discovering the buttons along your back, his hands become laser focused on those.

“You both are,” Viktor sighs, his hand palming over his crotch as he watches you with a predatory stare, “Get her naked, please.”

Jayce obeys, sweet obedient Jayce. His fingers find themselves spinning you around, immediately working the line down your spine. His big fingers are nimble, rapidly pulling the extremely delicate buttons apart with ease without ripping a singe one of them. His hands travel down your spine, your body reacting in turn with shuddering gasps, until he reaches the cleft of your ass where the buttons finally stop. This is when Jayce urges you to stand straight, pushing your dress down to the point where it falls down your ass and legs, leaving you bare for them spare your heels.

Jayce’s warm hands are on you, caressing your chest and squeezing your hips.

“Is it.. good? The heels aren’t too much?” You ask, their lack of immediate verbal praise making your skin prickle in a way you don’t like.

“More than good,” Viktor scoffs, then orders “Come here.”

Without another thought, you sink to your knees immediately. Viktor’s wish is your command.

You shuffle forward until you’re between Viktor’s knees, his brace undone and his pants already unbuttoned and waiting for you. You push both down with care, actively pulling his brace down his leg gently to make sure that it’s not bumped in any way on the way down. It’s not unsexy, the way you remove the brace is the same way you’d remove any piece of clothing, just another thing on the journey to unwrapping him like a present. And he is a present to you tonight, most of your time with Viktor hurried in the lab and mostly clothed. The time and space to actually see him bare is a rare thing for you. You take the time to take his pants with it, each inch of revealed skin met with kisses. Lipstick meets the insides of pale knees, up pale thighs, exaggerating the punctuation of the moles on his legs.

You look up at him expectantly, as if for instruction.

“My love, what?” he ask, a chuckle in his tone as he grasps the back of your head, “you know what to do.”

With that he gently leads your head down, your lips parting to catch the head of his cock between them. You waste no time sinking your mouth down onto him, only stopping when he hits the back of your throat. Despite the fact that he does not fully fit in your mouth, you do not wrap your fingers around the base of his dick. That’s always been a quirk of Viktor’s, that he likes it with no hands. So one of your free hands sinks into the couch, the old worn cushion soft under your touch. Your other hand moves between your thighs, moving lazy circles with your middle two fingers over your clit. You moan at the contact, and Viktor shudders as your moan reverberates around him. He crooks a finger towards the other man, and Jayce comes forward to quickly capture Victor’s lips into a kiss. You stare up from your spot below, licking the underside of Viktor’s cockhead as you watch the two lock lips. Viktor is the first to deepen the kiss, his tongue diving past Jayce’s lips. They’re so beautiful, your men. You watch them hungrily as you bob your head up and down on Viktor’s length, your cheeks hollowing out around him. Your fingers speed up, and every few moments you allow your fingers to dip into yourself, not nearly enough and not what you want but it fuels the fire in your gut. You don’t hold back with your own moaning, letting them know how good you’re feeling right now.

Viktor seems to notice the way your shoulder is moving, and pulls away from Jayce. Not too far, as his breath still tickles Jayce’s mustache.

“You made our little Princezno very upset, Jayce,” Viktor tsks, “Look at how good she is being for us, and you make her so jealous?”

Jayce looks down, his eyes meeting yours.

“I’m sorry, babe,” he tells you, and you hope he can see that you’re smiling even with Viktor’s dick down your throat.

“Did you think that was enough?” Viktor asks, and one of his hands comes to your chin, gently pulling you off of him. You stretch and move your jaw, slightly sore from use. Viktor pulls you up, gesturing for you to lay in his lap. He does this when he needs a breather, when he gets himself a little too worked up too quickly. It’s almost an ego boost knowing you have that power over him, but not when it leaves him attempting to stifle a cough. You comply happily though, stretching out on your back so that your head rests mostly on his good leg, your hand lazily coming up to rub along the edge of his back brace. His still hard cock rests against his abdomen, close enough that you can kiss it when you turn your head, and you do. Your lips press a warm kiss where the base of his shaft meets his balls.

“Look at her, she’s worked herself up so much,” There’s fake pity in his tone as Jayce moves to the other side of the ratty couch, “I think you should make it up to her.”

“I agree,” Jayce sighs as he kneels at the edge of the couch, his big hands propping up your hips for him and holding you still. Jayce’s breath fans out across your core, already dripping and ready for him. He smiles at you, and you want to run your tongue along the gap in his teeth. Jayce is so fucking handsome. You don’t know when he removed his jacket and shirt, but he hooks one of your legs over his bare shoulder before diving in. His tongue feels molten hot as he licks your cunt open, and he groans as he tastes you. A greedy slurp cuts through the air of the otherwise quiet lab, obscene and embarrassing as you throw your hands up to cover your face.

“None of that,” Viktor chides you, gently prying your hands away, “If you must grab anything, grab Jayce. I want to see you.”

You comply, just as obedient as Jayce when it comes to Viktor. You nod and him as your hands tremble, fingers burying themselves in the hair that Jayce is trying to grow out. Jayce hums appreciatively against you at the contact. He returns to opening you with fervor, his tongue now focused solely on your clit. Jayce’s fingers tease your entrance, dipping into where you’ve already soaked and just barely breaching you, earning him breathy whines and whispered begging.

“Jayce… need you,” you moan, frustrated tears already prickling at your eyes. He’s in a teasing mood tonight, his worst and most dangerous mood. If Viktor doesn’t call him off, you could be at this until dawn.

“Do you need us both?” Viktor asks, which you meet with nodding that jostle’s Viktor’s good leg. You look up at him, silently begging. He pouts mockingly at you, using one hand to wipe away a stray tear near your lashes.

“Prep her,” he orders Jayce, not taking his eyes off of yours, “She needs us both, who are we to deny her?”

Jayce hums against your clit again, making you yelp. His fingers delve into you, scissoring you open and pressing deep. Finally, you think, finally. His fingers don’t stay long, just enough to soak them. Jayce pulls his fingers out and moves them lower. He circles the other hole, then slowly, ever so carefully, pushes one in. The adjustment is always a little painful, despite that you’re used to this by now. He’s slow to move, and works you open to take the second finger.

“She tastes so good,” Jayce moans when he removes is mouth from you, only for a moment to catch his breath, “So so sweet.”

His fingers in your ass start to move a little faster as his lips reattach themselves to your clit, sucking hard on the little bud to make you yank on his hair. If there’s something Jayce likes, it’s a little pain. He fucks you on his hand until you see stars, each time you come close to ecstasy, he pulls back; maddening and near painful. He does this three times, each time has you whining and cursing and panting while Viktor holds your face still and whispers sweet praise to you.

“You’re doing so well, look at how happy you’re making us, just once more.”

But his words mean little when you’re blinded with the need to cum, the need to make a mess for Jayce to lick up, to be sandwiched between the two of them and filled.

“Can’t … fuck, ah… can’t do it anymore,” you plead, the tears starting to come more rapidly, a babbling brook becoming a stream. You twist nearly out of Viktor’s hold, your fingers going slack against Jayce’s scalp, and Viktor’s face goes stoic.

“Jayce, stop!” he tells him, clear that you’ve been pushed a little too far. Jayce pulls back immediately, but doesn’t leave. Instead he wraps his arms around you, his head on your chest like a weighted blanket as he holds you.

“I’m sorry, baby. Was I mean to you?” Jayce croons, but the way his hand envelops yours and squeezes tells you it’s a check-in.

“A little,” you whimper, “I just wanted to fuck you… and cum.”

You add the last part with a little indignant joke in your tone. Truly, you could handle what he was doing on a normal night, but tonight, you just wanted your men and their attention.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats again, and then lifts his head up to Viktor, “You ready to go again?”

“I always was,” Viktor scoffs.

You sigh as you sink down onto Viktor’s length, the familiar stretch to accommodate him always pleasant. He smiles up at you from where he now lays on the couch, his good leg digging into the cushion to give him some leverage of his own, his own lips parted in his own clumsy sigh. You lean down to capture those lips in a kiss, a brief peck before you turn your head back to Jayce.

“You ready?” You ask him, beckoning him closer.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready for something,” Jayce jokes, his knee pressing into the couch cushion between Viktor’s legs and yours. He drips some lube onto his shaft, until now neglected as some light unspoken attempt of a punishment. He remembers how you had rolled your eyes and made fun of him when he pointed out to you that he had even bought some lube to hide in one of his personal drawers in the space. Now, however, its half empty and every combination of the three of you have been more than happy to use it on more than one occasion. He gives his cock two pumps to smear the lube, then settles in behind you. Jayce runs hot, and his heat radiates across your back.

He lines himself up gently, and just as gently pushes into your other hole.

It takes everything in you not to scream and come at that very moment. You breath through your teeth, seething at the way you hold back as you adjust to the feeling, while familiar always an adjustment. Your panting breaks into a light airy chuckle as you move your hips, a small swivel and roll. Both of your men groan at the feeling. That’s their cue to begin.

Viktor and Jayce are geniuses to begin with, but when it comes to your body they’re even more than that. They fall into opposite patterns, when Viktor is fully flush in you, Jayce is pulling back; When Viktor pulls you up from his lap, Jayce’s hips are flat against your ass. Viktor goes in, Jayce goes out, Jayce goes in, Viktor goes out. It’s maddening, and so damn quick to work you back up into a frenzy.

“Fuck, Amazing,” Viktor pants, his head thrown back against the cushion as he tilts his hips up again into you, “You two spoil me.”

A breathy laugh leaves his lips as he continues his movement, his hands lazily tracing up Jayce’s biceps and down your waist. He smiles though youre sure he’s sore by now, something he’ll use as an excuse to have you and Jayce massage out and to cater to him and bring him a glass of sweetmilk and the little lemon loaf cake you had baked yesterday. Jayce doesn’t respond verbally, but speeds up the movement of his hips, double time to ease Viktor’s movements. He easily pushes you up and down on both of their cocks, the change in pace somehow even more divine than before.

“Spoil you?” you gasp, your mouth hangs open as you struggle to moan between the two of them, your hands frantic and clumsy grasping at them both, yet not finding purchase or rooting anywhere. You find yourself, between the gasps and the moans, laughing too.

“I’m the fuckin’ spoiled one,” you tell them. Viktor’s hand leaves your waist, dropping down to rub circles on your clit.

Almost instantly, you go rigid, the many orgasms Jayce had denied you crashing down upon you. The feeling makes it feel like you shatter, like your muscles are made of glass and you break in their embrace.

“Ah, fuck fuck, shit,” Jayce curses as you tense up and shake between the two of them, “So tight.”

You moan, low and hoarse and drawn out as the two men cage you in, holding you tight between them. Viktor’s hands find your face, cupping your cheeks as he whispers praise to you.

Heat floods you, Jayce finishing along with you, spilling into your ass with a harsh groan. He stills behind you, one of his big arms coming up from the couch to wrap around you and hug you tight, your sweaty spine colliding with his equally sweaty chest.

“Fuck you guys are fantastic,” he whispers, his stubble and lips brushing clumsily against your shoulder as he speaks. Viktor still thrusts up into you, his movements slower now as the two of you still above him. He looks down to where his fingertips have left the faintest of bruises on your hips. Beautiful, and he knows you’ll wear them with pride.

You start to shift on top of him, not quite meeting his lazier thrusting, but the friction is enough. Your mouth falls open, your eyes screwed shut as you keep going. You’re so good for them, with the way you’re clearly spent, all sluggish limbs and overstimulation, and still fucking yourself on him.

Viktor finishes quietly, another flood of heat within you as he sighs and throws his head back against the cushion of the couch. His frame shudders, a full body shake beneath the both of you as bliss takes over.

You start immediately to rub circles with your thumbs over Viktor’s shoulders, routine now as the three of you fall out of your haze, calm settling over you. Everything is still once more in the lab, the only noise your shared breathing and the hum of the generators.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, laughter on your lips. Jayce starts kissing the back of your neck, a soothing balm to ease tense muscles as he gently pulls out. He moves slowly, feeling the trickle of his spend follow his exit. You groan as he moves away, standing up from the couch.

“Come back,” you tell him, reaching out with one hand to try to beckon him back.

“You need a washcloth,” Jayce laughs, stark naked and proud of the mess he leaves the two of you on the couch. He shuffles over to the little wash basin and care station the three of you had slowly built up over the years. He runs the tap for a little while, waiting for the warm water before he brings the cloth under the flow of the water. He looks back at the two of you, flashing a toothy smile thats blinding even in the darkness of the lab.

“Braggadocios, is he not?” Viktor asks, a playful smirk on his tired face.

“Terribly,” you respond, winking at him.

“I can hear you two!” Jayce calls as he walks back over to the couch, “Conspiring against me?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you hum, but he knows thats a lie.

He wouldn't have it any other way, though.

#jayvik x reader #jayce talis x reader #viktor x reader

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ajortga · 4 months ago

Text

love you silently

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

a/n: i hate this SO much, i seriously didn't know what ideas to write for this

word count: 1.1k+

based off request!

May I request a Jenna Ortega x fem reader where the reader is a fan of her but are dating in secret and Jenna gets jealous plz🙏

You loved the feeling of being loved.

Feeling like you had a reason to live, to wake up with kisses and to have a thumb rubbing against the top of your hand that lulled your stresses away.

But what was even better was being loved by your damn celebrity crush. Dating your celebrity crush.

No seriously, Jenna Marie Ortega was your girlfriend.

And something about you just made Jenna feel so special. Because you weren’t there for fame. You were there for her. On the red carpets, Jenna wouldn’t see you trying to have your photos taken, you were taking photos of her, like a little girl that looked so happy. And even though she wouldn’t mind either way, you were humble.

This quiet kind of love. The love where you didn’t care if it was loud or known by others. As long as it was known by her.

And something about your love being secret felt good.

You were both at a red carpet for Jenna’s upcoming films. She bought you a ticket for a special access, and of course didn’t mind if you wandered with her. You liked coming with a microphone, pretending that you were just an interviewer, not like you were her girlfriend or anything.

It was cute, you followed her like a lost puppy.

You had questions and everything, prepared if you were seen as suspicious. Hell, you even had a set of questions for each cast mate.

Of course only the ones Jenna trusted most knew. Which mainly consisted of her closest family and a few of her closest friends.

So right now, a camera was wrapped around your neck and you just had a random prop microphone in your bag as you clung onto Jenna each time there was no one around.

After the event had started, you and Jenna had to part ways for a while so you wouldn’t cause suspicions.

A few minutes in and someone had tapped you on the shoulder. You were expecting to see your girlfriend, but instead, you were met with a taller man. Um..

Shit.

“Hi?” You start, swallowing as he leans on the random table next to you.

The look he gives you keeps your guard up, his wavy locks that were gelled kind of gave it away. His siren eyes scan you, “I saw you wandering around with Jenna a few hours back and just thought you were pretty.” He says, his voice trying to be alluring.

You were sure he might’ve eaten garlic.

When you don’t respond, just tilting your head, he clears his throat, “I’m Liam, I play in the same movie with Jenna.”

Oh, Liam. Jenna had mentioned him a few times in the past, and you could tell that he was the kind of person to get on people’s nerves. Arrogant was what Jenna had said.

“I see,” you respond, distracted as you scan the room for Jenna, who was having her photos taken. You immediately play with your camera. “How has the movie been? What do you enjoy about it?” You ask, trying to maintain your interviewer physique.

Liam’s eyebrows tilt up, “Been good, I think the best part is when pretty interviewers come up to me because of it.” He says, voice cheeky, and you almost roll your eyes. He was literally the one who approached you?

As Jenna walks away, she searches the crowd for you. It doesn’t take long when her eyes reach your figure. You were a little backed onto a table, Jenna can’t see your expression from here.

You make a quirky, confused smile at Liam’s joke, laughing at the way he looked a little embarrassed when you didn’t get it the first time. You don’t realize or pay attention to how he’s inching closer to you every few moments. But Jenna does.

He says something that makes you give an awkward smile, and before he can say something further, your eyes trail to your girlfriend’s, well, not so pleased ones.

She stands between you and Liam, giving Liam a sour smile, “Hey,” she grits out, a smile that was definitely, not a smile, on her lips.

“Jenna, hey,” Liam says, her tactics not failing him. “You should’ve told me how sweet Y/N is. I would’ve approached her way sooner. Right?” He turns to you, and you look away, a little uncomfortable.

You can almost see your girlfriend’s eye twitching as she gives another bitter smile and pulls you away. “He always fucking does that,” she grits, literally not caring about the way there are photos being flashed into your faces of her grabbing your arm.

“Baby-” you whisper, Jenna grabbing a cup and filling it with punch, gulping it down. Then guides you to another room and crosses her arms.

“What the hell was that, Y/N? You were seriously getting hit on.”

She looked angry, not at you, just at the situation, upset even. “I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to get out of there.”

After a moment, you could see the way her eyes softened, and she kissed you. “I understand, I’m sorry baby, I don’t like it when people take advantage of you. I seriously think that we should make our relationship public when we feel like it.”

You bury your face in her shoulder, nodding.

You seriously thought you were safe, after the red carpet, an after party was held. And of course, you were let in. But as you look out at the sunset from your seat, the chair across from you creaks.

A smile was about to form on your face, thinking it was Jenna, and then you see the same gelled locks. Sigh.

“And we meet again. At least we might not get interrupted this time?” He suggests, and you feel your mouth quirk, ugh. Did this man seriously have 0 knowledge of spatial awareness?

He bought you a glass of wine, and you refused to drink it, then he bought another one.

“Liam, I don’t think-”

“Hate to break it to you, but she doesn’t want to even talk to you,” a soft hand comes from behind, resting on your shoulder. You let out a breath of relief, she stood next to you, still holding her punch of juice.

Liam’s eyes narrow at the actress he works with. “Why don’t we let her be the judge of that?”

“The only thing I’m letting her judge is your damn attitude,” Jenna says, pissed off as she dunks her fruit punch over his suit.

You can hear him cussing her out, and before you know it, you're cussing at him. "Don't you fucking talk to her like that!" You shriek, but she’s basically scooping you up and angrily walking somewhere else.

“Um.. Where are we going?” You ask, voice small as she goes out a quieter way, placing you on the passenger seat. She looks like she’s about to lash out, but when she turns to you, definitely not.

“I hadn’t thought about that,” she murmurs, thinking. “How about milkshakes and fries?”

#jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega imagine #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #jenna ortega x y/n #vada cavell x reader #jenna marie ortega #vada cavell x y/n #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x female reader #jenna ortega x reader

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moonstruckme · 1 year ago

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i don’t really request so idk if this is where i should be asking but I wanted to know if you could do a Sirius x reader story where Sirius is trying to ask out or “woo” the reader but she is rarely noticed romantically and sort of confused and surprised by sirius genuinely liking her

You nailed it, babe! Thanks for requesting :)

cw: alcohol, mention of vomiting

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

The smell of vomit has escaped the bathroom and is seeping out into the hallway. You scrunch your nose and try not to breathe. Or hear. Your friend is purging all the alcohol she’s drank over the last few hours with your other friend holding her hair and murmuring slurred but heartfelt encouragements, and because you’re a sympathetic puker you’ve been put on bathroom guard duty.

“Sorry,” you croak when another person comes up to you. “This one’s occupied. I think there’s another upstairs, though.”

“I’d really rather people not use that one,” he says. His voice is silky smooth. “Last time I allowed that, everything in my medicine cabinet had moved around the next morning.”

You blink. “This is your party.”

“I’m Sirius.” He gives you a smile and sticks out his hand for you to shake. His palm is cool against yours. There’s something disarmingly intense about his gaze, the way he holds yours the whole time you’re touching. “This party is one-third mine. I live here with my roommates.”

“Right, I—uh—” You try to reclaim control of your tongue. “I think one of my friends knows one of your—James?”

Sirius nods thoughtfully. “Seems likely. Is she in there?” He nods to the closed bathroom door.

You feel embarrassed at the scene now, though you’re not sure why. “Yeah. She’s helping my other friend, who’s, uh…having a rough time.”

He purses his lips. The movement accentuates his cheekbones, which you can’t help but notice are ridiculously striking already. They certainly don’t need the extra help. “Think either of them will go through my medicine cabinet?”

Your eyebrows bunch. “No. What?”

But he’s already knocking on the bathroom door, cracking it a tad. He brushes a piece of hair behind his ear as he bends at the waist to poke his head in. It’s a deep, impenetrable black which moves fluidly like dark water.

“Hi.” His voice softens as he addresses your friend. You imagine the situation probably looks dire. “She alright? It’s—no, it’s fine, babe, it happens. Would you like to use my bathroom? It’s a bit cleaner, more privacy. I mean, if you think you can make the journey?”

Someone must answer in the affirmative, because then Sirius is ushering them upstairs. You take up the rear, providing vocal but cautiously distant support and trying not to gag when your friend does.

“Well,” Sirius says, closing the door to his bedroom behind him, “that’s taken care of.”

“That was really nice of you,” you reply. “Thank you.”

“Oh, it was mostly selfish.” He grins, leaning over the banister to look down at the party. “See that broad-shouldered, smiley bloke in the middle of the couch, looks like he plays every sport known to man?”

You laugh and acknowledge that you do.

“That’s James. You can see, I’m sure, how it’d be fairly easy for him to shake me about by my ankles if I let his friend kneel on the dirty floor of our downstairs toilet. Plus, now I get to keep the general public away from my bathroom and you don’t have to look so green and uncomfortable at our party anymore. Everyone wins.” He turns his head to look at you, eyes twinkling. “But mostly me.”

Fuck, being in this guy’s presence is like being in a dark room with a shining star. You’re blinded by the sheer presence of him.

“Did I really look green and uncomfortable?” you ask him.

Sirius smiles like he’s trying to stop himself but not really. “I mean, you were obviously stunning regardless, but yes. You’re much improved now, though.” He nods downstairs. “Let me get you something to drink, doll.”

You’re concerned you might be actually reeling, but you manage to nod, and Sirius takes your suddenly warm and sweaty hand in his cool one, leading you down to the kitchen. You don’t know what’s happening, how it came to be happening to you of all people, but you’re more than willing to go along with it.

A girl named Marlene has requisitioned the party’s alcohol. She pours Sirius a gin and tonic, giving him a meaningful look and a smile when he turns to you to ask what you want and you squeak out “The same.” He hasn’t let go of your hand.

“So on a scale of want-to-leave-right-now to best-night-of-your-life, how good a time are you having?” he asks conversationally as he guides you into a loveseat.

You clear your throat, doing your best to act casual. The most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen is sitting right next to you, holding your hand and talking to you like you’re halfway interesting. This night is ranking pretty highly. “That’s quite the range.”

“Well, I want to allow for plenty of variance,” Sirius explains. “Earlier, you were standing outside our nastiest toilet and looking like you could be sick, so I might have interpreted that as a two and I’m hoping things have improved since then. What would you say?”

You smile into your cup, hoping the lighting hides your blush. “Definite improvement.”

“Really?” He grins, sparkling. You try not to swoon. “That’s excellent news.”

“Is it?”

“Of course. I want you to have a good time, gorgeous.”

Your heart does an odd, stuttering thing. You feel suddenly warmer. You wish any of that could be chalked up to the alcohol. If he keeps talking to you like this, you’re worried you’ll actually go into shock. These things don’t happen to you.

“Why?” you ask, dumbly, before you can stop yourself, because you’re an idiot.

“I mean,” Sirius swipes his hair behind his ear again, gaze dropping from yours for just a millisecond, “you might stay longer if you’re having a good time. I’ll take you for as long as I can get you.”

His eyes have found yours again, but they’re different. There’s less bluster behind them. You feel the beginnings of a slow, shy smile spreading across your face. He actually does like you. Somehow, realizing his nervousness lessens yours. Maybe you’re on equal footing here.

“I’m having a good time,” you tell him. “I want to stay.”

Sirius mirrors your smile, and his charm is back in full force, but this time you can see through some of the smugness. It feels like he’s let you in on some sort of secret. “Thrilled to hear it, doll. Want to dance with me?”

You find you really do.

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themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 6 days ago

Text

Ludos Imperiales 6

Summary: More battles and more bargains come into play as things go from bad to worse.

Content Warnings: Blood and Gore, Violence, Character Death (Unnamed); Mentions of Slavery/Assault/Incest (the twins are back)

Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

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I’ve aged a decade in the time it takes to get inside the Imperial Palace. The blistering heat makes sweat bead down the back of my dress, every inch of heavy fabric feeling like it’s plastered to my skin. Everything feels too heavy on my body. I need to get home and into the tub, maybe with enough soap and water I will be able to purge the oppressive weight that clings to my skin.

Though I have my doubts. It’s not just the heat or the dirt, it’s this whole place. Everything I have known and loved about the city feels like it has been stripped down to nothing but the oozing, wretched thing that has been hidden beneath golden arches and layers of stark white marble. It reeks of a decay that has nothing to the crucified bodies hanging outside our doors.

Senators and Commanders mingle, wives dripping in expensive jewels hanging from their arms, laughing and talking about how magnificent this celebration for Amarantha is. I’d be shaking with the rage I feel clawing up my insides were it not for the way Rhysand still held me in his mental grip.

“Steady,” he warns for what feels like the fiftieth time today. I don’t know how he’s managed to stay so calm, especially when his men have been taken through the back streets of the city. There is a prison on the outskirts of the capitol, on the eastern wall, hopefully there will be less cruelty on the streets now that they’re away from the parade, but it is still a fate I wouldn’t wish on anyone. It cannot be easy to be forced to stay here, with the enemy at every turn, while your men labor in a dungeon, yet he and Cassian, stand with their heads high behind me.

One of the guards untethered them from the back of my horse, but holding their chain in my hands is just as bad as leading them on horseback. Cassian gives me a wide berth, far enough away that if I take two steps ahead I’ll drag him by the throat. Azriel, however, hovers near my left shoulder, head down like he’s trying to hide, even as I watch his shadows slither down the back of his legs and scatter across the floor in search of something. One still remains coiled around my ear, hidden by my hair.

“Be careful around the twins,” I warn as my cousin catches my eye and makes her way towards us. She’d been too far behind us in the procession for me to see her reaction to the horrors, but, judging by the grin on her usually stoic face, I’d say she enjoyed it.

Rhysand shifts so he’s standing behind my right shoulder, so I’m framed on either side by a towering Illyrian. Their presence is soothing, especially when Brannagh’s grin could peel paint. She obviously wants trouble. I’d be a fool to think the bloodshed outside was enough. She’ll need something to sink her fangs into before the night is over to be satisfied with the day.

“There you are, cousin!” We have the same slate colored eyes and that is where the family resemblance stops. Everything about her is rigid and uniform and for so long being near her had made me feel like a lamb being watched by a lion. Yet, with the males at my back, I don’t feel so small anymore.

“I’m surprised you made it,” she says, eyes raking over Rhysand, then Azriel, then Cassian, sizing each of them up to see which would be an easier meal.

I’m suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to punch in her teeth.

“First the Games, now this,” Dagdan says as he abandons an attempt to woo one of the Senators with his bullshit war stories, and joins us. “Maybe we are related after all.”

Rhysand withdraws his mental presence from my head and I draw my mental shields back up to make sure I keep the twins out.

Brannagh walks a slow circle around us, tongue running over her lower lip. “I really didn’t think you were capable of this.” Her bony fingers reach out to flick the chain looped around their throats. “It’s a little… what’s the word you always throw at us? Barbaric for you?”

“All it took was Mommy Dearest to lose her head for you to grow a spine, huh?” Dagdan sneers.

Azriel’s shadow hisses angrily in my ear as his head jerks up off his chest. The glare he throws over my shoulder could melt a glacier, the heat in it seering across my skin.

“This one’s pretty,” Brannagh coos at him, her fingers reaching out to brush across his cheek.

“Don’t touch him,” I bite out through my teeth.

“Careful, we bite,” Cassian snarls.

This only makes Brannagh grin further and my first instinct is to draw all three of them behind my back, as if they were small children in need of protection and not three fully grown warriors. As if I had not seen them kill a Giant and a handful of Wargs in the Arena just yesterday.

“Were they fun?” Brannagh teases, making another circle so she can draw her nails over Rhysand’s nearly bare chest.

Red tints my vision.

“They look like they’d be a good fuck.”

I clench my hands into fists to keep my power from erupting and taking out everything in the room. Rhysand can’t save me from this one, not without them sensing his mental presence. And if we are to play this game, I need to be able to stand on my own two feet. I might not be the most skilled fighter in this room, but I have plenty of other weapons in my arsenal.

“How would you know? The only thing you’ve ever fucked is Dagdan.”

She flinches like I’d punched her right in the stomach. It was all rumors of course, but the whispers were there. The twins still insisted on sharing a room; still went everywhere together. They were toxically co-dependant and on more than one occasion they’d mentioned old practices of keeping bloodlines pure. I knew it was a sore spot, I didn’t care very much if it was true. As long as the blow landed; as long as I had something strong enough to cut her, so the bond screaming in my ears didn’t prompt me to cut off the hand still lingering too close to my mate’s skin. They were not hers to touch.

Cassian chokes out a cough, trying to keep back a laugh as Brannagh’s face twists.

Dagdan’s teeth flash in a snarl.

I merely grin as I give the chain in my hands a very subtle tug. “I think we’re done catching up, cousin. Do enjoy the rest of the celebration.” I do my best to leave them in the dirt as we head deeper into the palace. I’m sure she’ll find a way to make me pay for the remark later, but for now, I’ll count it as a victory.

The exchange took place in the open foyer, the roof held up by pillars and the outside world only separated by billowing sheer curtains. I mount the steps that lead us into a secondary foyer, where bubbling fountains and a pool of multicolored fish take up much of the space. Standing guard atop the fountains are twin statues of our gods of war and victory; the golden bowls at their feet overflowing with coins left by worshipers as they come and go from the Palace. We need more than a little luck and victory on our side and I leave a handful of coins on Victory’s altar. I will go to the Temple later and beg the Mother for forgiveness for how blind I have been, and seek a Priestess to make an offering for her blessing in what is quickly becoming an act of outright treason.

I feel Rhysand’s violet gaze on me as I make the offering.

“The twins really are… like that?” Cassian asks as we round the fountain. It has to be morbid curiosity that prompts the conversation, but the fact that he’s speaking to me at all makes my heart race in my chest. I’ll take whatever scraps he’ll throw my way, if it only means he doesn’t hate me as much as he did yesterday.

“I’d be more surprised if they weren’t than if they were,” I say, unable to suppress a shutter when thinking about it. “They’ve always been… together… and weird about it.”

“Sure, and we’re the animals.”

I can see the back of Amarantha’s blood red head as the inner circle makes its way towards the atrium for food and whatever entertainment could be dragged into this den of vipers for the afternoon. Servants carrying goblets of wine drift through the clusters of visiting dignitaries and soldiers. There’s more than a couple armored gladiators, acting as guards for their sponsors, in attendance. I try to keep track of who belongs to who as we go, in order to give us an edge for the next match. Senators Beron and Tamlin, former lords from Prythians courts, now given new titles within the Empire for merging their kingdoms, both have sponsors shadowing them. The males have to be half Giant, with arms and thighs thick as tree trunks. Their armor has to be custom made to be able to fit them. I don’t know the names of either males, only that they’ve been employed long enough for their conditions in the Arena are they don’t fight Amarantha’s Attor. Too much money has been put into them to let them get torn to ribbons by that beast.

I slide my way through the throngs of people to get closer. To play this game, there is no doubt that they will have to go back into the Arena a couple times. I need to start finding ways to give them an edge. I can start by seeing up close just how much taller they are then Cassian. If they have to go hand-to-hand in the future, I want to see how they compare next to each other so I can plan to get around it.

The gladiators have at least two feet on Cassian, which makes me basically an ant in comparison. I already have to tilt my head up to look my mates’ in the eye, these males make me have to keep distance between us to be able to see anything other than they’re stomachs.

Cassian is fairly nimble, from what I’ve seen so far, as long as the wound on his leg is healed by the next match, he can use that to his advantage. But the thought of having to watch him fight males this size makes my stomach twist. I’m going to need to do more than size up the competition.

Beron is accompanied, as always, by several of his sons, but it is always Eris by his side. The well dressed male turns a grin in my direction when he catches sight of me. “Highness,” the bow is graceful, fox-like in a way that reminds me of Lucien, wherever he is in the crowd to avoid his Father. It’s not like him to leave Tamlin alone in these situations, they’re usually joined at the hip.

“It does me good to see you outside,” Eris continues, as he reaches out to take my hand and press a chaste kiss on the back of my knuckles.

Azriel’s shadow hisses in agitation in my ear as something hot flickers down the bond.

“It’s been too long since you’ve graced us with your presence.” I’ve known the Vanserra’s for a long time, Eris is not quite the flirt Lucien is, but he has no shortage of sway over females, males too for that matter. It had always surprised me that Father hadn’t tried to arrange a union between us. Eris was known, from time to time, to share the same savage brutality the Emperor valued in his court; it should have pleased him to have Eris for a son in law.

“Are you finally feeling better?”

“It took longer than I expected to recover,” I say honestly. Better to not oversell anything; all lies have a little truth woven in. “But getting some air has been good.”

His russet gaze jumps to the males behind me, and the grin I’ve known for decades turns serpentine. “And profitable, I’d imagine?”

“For the Empire, of course, all earnings will go to aid the far reaches.”

“So I heard,” he nods, still studying them. “You always did have a bleeding heart, Highness. It is good to see it benefit you.”

The compliment feels underhanded, but so do most things around here.

“When will we get to see them in action again?”

Talking about them like they’re not standing here makes me want to start smashing things, but I reign in my temper. “I was just about to ask you the same about your Father’s gladiators.”

He glances back at the male and shrugs. “Felix is always ready, but we’ve gotten no summons.”

Interesting. The Gamesmaker should already have a match-up in place, even if the Arena will be closed for repairs for a few days still.

“How unfortunate, it’d be quite the fight for Cassian.”

I feel Cassian shift a little closer, the scent of sandalwood and snow-capped mountains invading my senses. It is an effort not to step back and lean into him, he’s never dared be this close before.

“It would be quick,” he states.

Eris huffs a laugh. “For your neck to be broken, brute? Yes, we’d be in agreement.”

There’s a snap as Cassian’s wings ruffle and whip closed again, his agitation so clear I can taste it. The frayed edges of our bond simmer, but I can’t tell if the rage is his or my own. We are alike in that aspect.

“Who was summoned, then?” We can’t linger too long here, especially not for information I do not yet need. Rhysand still needs to get a better look around and we’re starting to linger on the stairs, people clustering behind us.

“Not Tamlin’s man either,” Eris says with a shrug. “I’m as in the dark as you.”

“You?” I force a teasing smirk to my features. “I thought you knew everything around here, Eris?”

His russet gaze darkens as his perfect teeth dart out to bite his lower lip. It’s a move I’ve seen thousands of people swoon over. “I’ll happily find out for you, Highness.”

Azriel’s shadow snarls in a language I can’t make out, but it is Rhysand’s side of the bond that ripples with promised violence. Is that jealousy I feel? I try to shove the thought aside; hoping that they feel this thing between us is too much to ask for. I will only hurt myself if I start to hope that I am more than a means to an end.

“Please do. I’d be indebted to you.” That’s all it takes for the Autumn male to bow and disappear into the crowd.

Senator Thessian and his large entourage of guards pushes past us on the stairs, the armored guard slamming into Rhysand from behind hard enough that he stumbles forward, hands reaching out to catch himself on my hips before he can take both of us to the floor. My whole body freezes under the contact, the warm press of his body against mine enough to make all rational thought fly out of my skull.

He leans in, like he might offer an apology, breath ghosting over my neck as his lips brush the shell of my ear. My whole body shivers in anticipation. “Clever, little vixen.”

The low baritone of his voice makes heat rush between my legs, something hot coiling in the pit of my stomach. Now the citrus and jasmine scent of him invades all my senses and I really, truly have no thoughts left in my head.

My knees wobble as he gives my hip a squeeze, even as the bond roars at the loss of contact as he steps back. Maybe it’s just been awhile since I’ve been intimate with anyone, but that small amount of contact feels like an electric current beneath my skin. It is an effort to keep moving up the stairs and not turn and do something foolish, like press my lips to his and slide my fingers into his hair.

The atrium is a wide, open room with tables piled with food lining the far walls. On the left are floor to ceiling windows, thrown open to let in the warm summer breeze, a few Praetorians standing at attention amidst the billowing curtains.. There are low couches along the walls, some of which are already taken. If not by anyone with a gladiator, I don’t linger on who sits where.

A servant with a tray of wine passes and I snag one to try and calm the sizzling beneath my skin. I didn’t realize one of today’s many battles would be trying not to throw myself at my mates.

There is a raised dais against the far wall, the couches and lounge chairs far more plush and ornate than the rest. Father has found his seat, a slightly less gaudy throne than usual, and reclines as a servant fans him with a palm frond. Amarantha has taken her usual seat on his right, reclining against one of her pleasure slaves. The male wears little but a strip of crimson fabric between his legs, every inch of bare skin lean and smooth. There’s another perched on the armrest of her chair, holding a goblet of wine for whenever she needs it; a third sitting at her feet, running idle fingers up the side of her calf. All that attention, and yet her dark gaze still tracks the males behind me with enough hunger I debate how much trouble I’d be in if I threw my own wine glass at her head.

She is not the only one who pays such close attention to the Illyrians. A couple dignitaries’ wives and high ranking soldiers gawk blatantly at how much skin they have on display. More than one head turns to get a better look at Rhysand’s ass in this get-up. He neither cowers or preens under the attention; it’s like he doesn’t even register it. I can’t help but wonder if that was the point: Everybody is so busy ogling him, they’re not really paying attention to what he’s doing. It’s a good mask, it shields his intentions and lets him observe without it being obvious, but the way they look at him, like he’s a piece of meat makes me wish I had claws to scratch out their eyes.

I take another sip of wine, trying not to look too desperate for the emptiness it’ll bring as I head in the direction of the dais.

“You’ve surprised me,” Father says as we approach. It’s the first real acknowledgement he’s shown me all day.

The shadow curled around my ear burrows a little deeper under my hair to avoid detection, the soft ether brushing against a sensitive spot on my temple that has me gripping the wine glass a little tighter to keep from reacting.

“As I said, I am trying to do better, Father.”

His gaze flicks to the chain in my hand, down the length of it like he’s inspecting the strength of each wrung before finally arriving on the occupants tethered to it. He grins in triumph as he takes in their attire. Maybe they were right to ignore what I’d brought out. It certainly looks like I’ve intended to humiliate them by dressing them in the same attire many of the Senator’s slaves are sporting.

“Tell me how you managed to bring the three of them to heel when Amarantha couldn’t?”

Amarantha bristles in her seat, her perfect teeth flashing in her pale face.

Another small victory.

“Tell him you instructed the healer to give us a sleeping drought in our wine.” The twins haven’t reappeared and his sudden return in my head nearly makes me jump out of my skin. “And faebane in the water this morning.”

I repeat his instructions as I move to take the seat that is mine on his left and force myself not to think about how it’s a couch instead of a chair like his because it used to be shared with my Mother.

“You’re hoping to acquire mirthroot in the city to keep us docile until the next match.”

I repeat that too, making a mental note to ensure that I follow through with it. He will monitor my every move in the city, if I don’t follow through, he’ll know it and then we’re dead. An issue that seems far less pressing when Rhysand’s hand brushes over my wrist. Watching him in the Arena did nothing to show just how agile he is, not when he expertly maneuvers my hand towards his chest, the chain blocking his part in this. The next thing I know, I’m moving to sit and he’s falling into the couch behind me so it looks like I pushed him down into the seat so I could recline against his chest. The motion takes him seconds, it looks like he rehearsed it down to the exact placement of the chain to hide the fact that he’d been the one moving me and not the other way around.

Azriel seats himself on the armrest wordlessly; Cassian grunting as he sits on the floor with his back against the couch. I get the distinct impression he is only keeping his shoulder against my knee because being any farther away would mean his wings were in reach of Father’s hands.

It takes me a minute to find my bearings again as my brain short circuits over how close they all are. Rhysand’s heartbeat is steady against my back, his skin warm even through the fabric of my dress. He lets his head lean back against the back of the couch, feigning exhaustion or maybe repulsion from being “forced” to be this close to me. I’m close enough that I could run my hand up Azriel’s thigh if I wanted, and damn me do I want to. Or close enough to Cassian that my fingers itch to brush through the thick strands of his hair. It is a cruel trick of fate that my mates are close enough for me to touch and I can’t.

At the mention of the mirthroot, one of Amarantha’s males leans around the Emperor to offer a rolled cigarette, even dried the hint of mirthroot is obvious. The male’s eyes are glassy, shining under the effects of it himself, the grin on his features lazy and unbothered. Far too soft a male to be shackled to Amarantha.

I tap Cassian on the shoulder to prompt him to take it. A mistake because he flinches like I hit him and I think I might have undone any effort I’d made to get him to at least tolerate my presence. He snatches the offered cigarette, and the liter that follows and passes it back to me with a huff.

The Emperor watches the exchange with more interest than he’s ever shown me in my life. “What would you have done, Amarantha?” He asks.

“The same,” she says through her teeth.

I take a deep breath through my nose to keep from making a disgusted face at her. “Ember said that’s what she used to do for Amarantha’s slaves before she came to my keep, so I simply took a page out of her book.”

I pass the cigarette and liter to Azriel, and pray the sight of the flames doesn’t cause the same reaction it had when he’d been branded. He grits his teeth, but there is no angered flash down the bond or hiss from the shadow to indicate it’s anything other than a show as he lights it and takes a long drag.

“I’m glad to see that in your seclusion you’ve finally grown half a brain,” Father says. “I was beginning to worry that your Mother’s poisoned tongue had gotten to you.”

I flinch despite myself and all three of the males tense around me. Cassian’s jaw ticks, the flutter of movement brushing across my knee. For the first time all day, his hazel gaze flicks to me, and maybe it’s a trick of the light, but I swear I see a flash of pity there.

“No, it didn’t,” I whisper, unable to put any feeling into the words. I haven’t been back here since the execution. I’d found every reason to avoid it. Being back feels like peeling a scab off the wound and letting it bleed all over the floor.

Azriel takes another drag and I wish more than anything to take a hit of it myself and numb this feeling in my chest. What I would give for the empty numbness that had filled me in the early months of my grief. There are so many tangled emotions here, between the loss and my mates and the horrors of what we just witnessed outside. I cannot pick just one to focus on; can’t find some outlet to expel the building pressure. It all tangles and lodges itself in my throat like it's trying to drown me.

Rhysand’s fingers brush over my arm as he draws his hand up to take the cigarette from Azriel. To an onlooker it looks accidental, maybe it is, maybe I’m just reading into it, but even that faint brush drags me back to the surface for a bit of air again. At least I am not alone in the water anymore. Mother had always been emotionless, nothing got to her. I was always the one that felt too much. At least now the emotions can be shared.

“Your actions yesterday inspired me,” the Emperor says after a beat.

Apprehension licks its way up my spine.

“I haven’t taken a champion of my own in a long time. It’s become dull, betting on someone else’s man.”

Shit!

Azriel’s shadow dares to peek out around my bangs, observing the crowd as they begin to settle in their seats with plates of food, as if on some silent command. Brannagh and Dagdan join us on my left, on the seat closest to the dais, the stare they level at me hot enough to melt glass. So much for Rhysand being in my head the rest of the evening.

With a wave, the Emperor motions over a creature I have no name for. It walks on two legs like a man, but is covered head to toe in thick, brown, fur. Horns curl from the top of its head; a beak with a hooked tip jutting from its face. Its hands end in talons like that of a bird, but there are five on each hand instead of three. Its tunic has been folded down around its waist, leaving its chest bare, revealing a spider web of scars gouged through the heavy layer of fur. A thin, whip-like tail ending in a spiked tip flicks back and forth behind it as it walks, each step sending a shutter through the Palace.

My skin pricks with goosebumps. Some strange sort of alchemy made this thing.

“I was hoping to test it in the Arena, but with the repairs in order, I thought a smaller show would do just as well.”

My stomach hurdles into my throat.

“Why don’t we pick one of your champions to break it in, daughter?” The Emperor suggests as if this is a thought that just came to him and not something he’s been planning from the beginning.

I take another sip of wine as I turn to look at him, trying to steady the rapid pounding of my heart. I can’t let one of them fight this thing! Its maw opens and snaps shut with a clack as it stands before us, growing impatient.

“I’d personally like to see Cassian’s thick skull get crushed like a watermelon,” Amarantha chimes in from her seat.

I’m really going to throw up right here in front of all these people.

“A splendid idea from our woman of the hour, don’t you think?” He grins like he’s caught me, like he knows I’ve been playing games and have walked right into his trap.

“Nothing can be as bad as listening to you speak, Amarantha,” Cassian snarls as he gets on his feet, effectively making the decision for me.

He cracks his neck and rolls his shoulders, wings ruffling behind him, but before he can step into the center of the room, he turns to face me, much to my surprise. Hands scarred from swordplay reach out to give the chain around his neck a little tug. “Mind letting me off the leash, Princess?”

One of the Praetorian steps forward to unchain him but I stand and snag the key from his hand instead. I’ve seen enough males get stabbed or injected with something right before a fight to give the opponent an upper hand to know I can’t trust anyone near him. And, maybe, just maybe, the act of giving him a little relief from the chain might make him not hate me so much.

My hands shake as I reach up to his neck to unclasp the chain. I know better than to take the whole collar off while there are so many people watching even if I wish I could. His breath is warm on my face as he watches me, waiting for his moment of freedom. The urge to stretch up on my toes and kiss him for luck is overwhelming; maybe in another life we could have.

I step back with the chain in my hand and return to my seat before I can follow my impulses.

Cassian turns to face his opponent and even though I saw him perform yesterday, I can’t shake the sinking feeling that I have just sent him to his death. The creature sizes him up like it's calculating the best spot to take a bite out of him and its beady eyes settle on the bandage tied around his bare thigh.

Rhysand leans forward, resting his chin on my shoulder to watch, arm loosely looped over my waist. It looks casual. No one bats an eye at the gesture, but I am pretty sure he’s done it so he can keep me from jumping off the couch.

Azriel leans forward, bracing himself with his knees on his elbows, hazel gaze tracking the steps of Cassian’s opponent as he also calculates its weak spots.

“Let’s make it interesting, shall we?” The Emperor asks, leaning over to be heard over the rush of excitement the audience gives to the challengers.

I tear my gaze away from where I’m trying to memorize every line in Cassian’s wings, every curve of tattoo over his back and shoulders, just in case. “How so?”

“Cassian wins and I’ll let you pick their next opponent in the arena,” he suggests.

I like the offer; it gives them a better chance at surviving.

“Cassian loses, and you give Rhysand to Amarantha.”

The world flips and spins and the roaring in my ears has me clutching my hands in my skirts to keep a surge of power from destroying the room. My power singes the fabric, only the smoke from the mirthroot hides the smell.

There is no way in Hel I am making that kind of bet!

Rhysand stiffens behind me, heartbeat skipping for half a moment before he pretends to be unbothered by the comment and takes another drag of the mirthroot.

I’d rather throw myself on a blade than chance that. Cassian is an exceptional fighter, but I cannot take that risk. I am already risking his life by letting him fight like this, how can I risk both of them?

My chest aches. There are too many opportunities to lose them. Too many things that can go wrong.

“And let our people think I am weak and incapable of following through on the deal we made yesterday?” I challenge. My voice trembles as I fight to hold his gaze steady.

Azriel’s shadow hisses what sounds like a warning in my ear.

“You know if we split them up now it makes me look as if I can’t handle them.”

“Attached, are we?”

“No, but I am tired of looking weak,” I hiss. “If Amarantha wants them, she can challenge me for them herself.”

Rhysand stiffens behind me. The twins are too close for him to slip into my mind again, but I can practically feel him shouting at me down the bond.

She huffs a laugh around the other side of him, “As if you’d stand a chance in that!”

I ignore her as I hold my ground with my Father, “You have always thought so little of me.”

He doesn’t deny it.

“So if you really want to make this interesting, then fine. If Cassian wins, I pick when and who all their matches are with. And if he loses, well, you’ve already chosen a husband for me I’m sure, so you can speed up the process and I’ll provide them the heir you so desperately want by the end of the year.”

The bond shakes so hard in my chest it feels like Azriel’s screaming in my ear. Rhysand has gone still as death behind me and I didn’t think I said it that loud, but Cassian’s head whips in our direction, eyes wide.

Father throws his head back and laughs at that. “This new found confidence is amusing. I will allow you to pick the next two fights, but not all.”

Better than nothing.

“Deal.”

I think I can hear Azriel’s teeth grinding together beside me, so I force myself not to look at him. The bond thrums like he’s in physical pain and I hate that I have caused it, but I will not barter with their lives.

“To first blood!” The Emperor calls to the room.

“To the death!” Brannagh chants instead.

When this whole Empire goes up in flames, I’m pushing her in first.

The crowd begins to murmur to themselves, debating. “I’ll put some money on it if they fight to the death,” Tamlin tosses out.

“As will I!” Shouts a commander whose name I’d never learned.

The motion goes around the room in a full circle, by the time the Emperor concedes, I’ve drank my full glass and abandoned it on the couch. Didn’t we just do this?

The Praetorians provide blades for the two males, but the Emperor’s creature can’t hold the blade with its claw tipped hands and tosses it to the ground with a screech. Its barbed tip tail draws back behind it as it drops into a defensive stance.

I forget how to breathe as Cassian drops into his own.

Time slows in a familiar sensation of undiluted horror as the creature moves first, striking forward with its tail like a spear. Cassian pivots back a step, rearranging his feet as he blocks with the sword.

The crowd cheers excitedly and I distantly recognize coins changing hands as they take bets, but cannot tear my eyes away enough to watch who is participating in it. Cassian remains on the defensive as the creature rears its tail back and attacks from the other side of its body this time, testing the Illyrian’s reaction time. When the strike is blocked a second time, it switches tactics and goes for a punch, talons extended towards Cassian’s face.

While the creature is taller, it is not as agile, and Cassian side steps out of the way of the blow, using the momentum to lunge into the next step and strike the tip of his sword across his opponent’s stomach. Its ear shattering screech shakes the room as the blade makes contact, drawing black blood. If it wasn’t for Brannagh, the challenge would be over, Cassian would have won. It would have been easy for once.

Enraged, the creature strikes with its talons again, missing a second time, but catching Cassian in the jaw on the backswing. The whole room can hear Cassian’s teeth clack together as he stumbles backwards.

It takes everything in me not to squeeze my eyes shut, not to wince and react to every blow. I have to keep telling myself that this is part of the game and I cannot give them away, but by the Mother it is harder and harder with every passing second!

Rhysand remains with his chin propped up on my shoulder, the bulk of his weight keeping me in my seat. I so desperately want to reach out and take his hand, give myself something to ground in, but I can’t. I have to accept that this might be all we’re ever allowed to touch, especially after today.

The creature strikes again with its tail, once, twice, a third, each like a punch. The third blow shatters Cassian’s sword into pieces and my heart plummets into my stomach as he dodges a fourth assault. He’s not so fast on the fifth and that barbed tip punches right through his bandaged thigh! Blood splatters as the tips hurdles through muscle and sinew until it pushes through the back of his leg.

One of the dignitaries' wives reaches for a bucket and wretches as Cassian’s roar of pain rattles my teeth.

Azriel flinches, looking like he might just jump into the fight and stop it, but then catches himself.

The bond screams and bashes against my insides as my powers flare again, singing more of my skirts as I hold them in a death grip that only worsens as the creature yanks the barb back out of Cassian’s leg, bringing him to the floor. Blood pours from the wound from both ends, cascading down his calf to make a puddle on the stark white tile.

There’s enough of my skirts to hide the motion, Rhysand buries his hand beneath them to hold onto my hip tight enough to bruise. I don’t know if that’s to keep me in place or himself.

The creature snarls out a noise that sounds like triumph as it pulls its hand back, aiming to use its claws to sever Cassian’s head.

Not again! Not again! Not again!

I have to stop this! I have to do something!

At the last second, Cassian throws himself out of the way, knees tucked to his chest as he rolls out of reach, right to where the creature’s discarded sword lies. He snags the blade with a grunt, one hand pressed to the gaping wound in his thigh as he pushes himself back onto his feet. His face twists in pain at the slightest movement, but he manages to stay upright.

Rhysand breathes a little easier behind me, but his grip on my hip hasn’t let up.

The Emperor frowns beside us, displeased with the outcome thus far no doubt. He really expected this to be easy.

The creature strikes again, sticking to what it has found successful, and it becomes a mistake. Cassian twists at the last second, blade raised so when the strike comes, he doesn’t need to block it. At this angle, not only does it miss him, he has a height advantage and he brings the sword down as hard as he can, cleaving the tail in half. The barbed tip hits the floor twitching as the creature reels backward and wails.

Holy shit! I’ve seen a lot of warriors in my life, but I don’t think I’d ever describe them as beautiful until now. Each move is calculated, backed with training and muscle. His tattoos seem to come to life with his body as his muscles shift and strike.

He doesn’t let up as his opponent stumbles back either, he uses the distraction to his advantage and plunges the sword into the creature’s shoulder. He might have been aiming for the heart, but the wound in his leg gives him too great a limp to lunge far on. The blade catches in bone, the resounding crunch deafening in the domed ceiling, and when he reels back to pull it out, he twists it just enough to make his opponent’s arm absolutely useless.

With two of its preferred methods of fighting gone, the creature bends at the waist and charges with a roar, hoping to use its horns like a battering ram into Cassian’s chest.

An otherwise horrifying sight, if Cassian didn’t laugh and step dramatically out of the way so the creature rams right into the wall. “Is that really all you’ve got?” He taunts as a rain of dust falls on his head.

The creature screeches as it yanks itself free from the wall and shakes its head, clearing the debris from its beady eyes.

Cassian spins the blade in his hand, adjusting his grip, and I think it might be one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen in my life.

He can’t crouch with his leg, but he doesn’t need to. The creature tries to ram him again and he dodges and brings his hilt down on its neck, knocking it to the floor. He wastes no time in rearing back with the blade and bringing it down, easily cleaving the creature’s head from its shoulders.

Amarantha throws up her hands in a huff at the sight.

I finally take what feels like my first breath in an hour as Cassian tosses the blade on the floor. He did it! He won!

Azriel removes his elbows from his knees and reclines back against the armrest, clearly satisfied with the outcome.

“Excellent! Excellent!” Praises the steward as he goes about helping anyone who placed bets collect their proper earnings.

I tear my gaze away from the carnage to the nearest guard, “Find him a healer, now.” Before he bleeds out on the floor or Father decides he has another champion he wants to test.

The Emperor takes a long drink from his goblet, eyes narrowed on the severed head the staff has to now clean off the floor. Around him, his dignitaries drink and argue over why they bet the way they did. It is business as usual, completely unbothered by the blood around them.

When he finally turns to me, I have to brace myself against the anger simmering in his eyes. This is usually the part where I put my chin to my chest and try to make myself as small as possible. Usually. But not today.

“It seems I’ve underestimated their talent for bloodshed.”

Cassian hobbles back over to us and I make a show of telling Azriel to help him before he gets blood everywhere, so no one thinks I just let them wander off on their own.

“The Games will continue at the start of next week,” the Emperor continues.

That gives us days. I try not to look at the gaping hole in Cassian’s thigh. Thank the Mother it looks like it missed bone, but how is he supposed to participate with that? There’s no way it heals in time, even if I have Ember work twelve hours a day on him.

“I expect you to have their opponent picked out by the Senate meeting in the morning. You still have that end of your bargain to uphold.”

This victory will not be without repercussions, but it is still a victory nonetheless, and we have to take what we can get.

Managing to procure the mirthroot I need to trick my Father into thinking I’m following through with the regime I’d given him, as well as finding horses for the Illyrians to ride back on takes longer than usual, given the massive partying happening in the streets. We have to take the backroads home to avoid being pelted with more rocks, or outright mobbed. Compared to the rest of the day, the journey is uneventful, spent mostly with the others ensuring Cassian doesn’t pass out on the horse.

The sun is already changing colors by the time we return to the River House, but I know if I try to prepare for bed now I’ll never sleep. Instead, I leave Anise with instructions to look into potentially safe opponents in the Arena, so when I see Eris again tomorrow I can compare their notes, and then set out for the Temple built on the edge of the property.

I doubt there are enough blood offerings and animal sacrifices to cleanse the sins of this Empire, but I offer as many as I can in apology for my part in it. I don’t know how I’ve been so blind to all of it. I can’t stop seeing it now, it should have always been so obvious to me.

The Priestesses do not ask why I linger for over an hour, praying long past the time it takes for my offerings to burn atop the altar. I’d hoped that, if I said them hard enough, the weight of the day would slip off my shoulders. I’d thought, with enough sacrifices, the guilt would ease, but I can still feel my mates’ agitation and pain clearly through the bond.

I return to the House as weary as before. Tomorrow will be a whole new set of problems. I cannot put it off by lingering in the Temple.

The walk doesn’t clear my head, or loosen the tension, and I climb into the tub with that same heaviness still clinging to my skin. I heat the water as hot as I can, hoping it might cleanse me in a way my sacrifices couldn’t.

Exhaustion creeps its way in as I scrub and scrub and scrub until my skin is pink. Every time I close my eyes I can see the crucified bodies, gasping for air as they slowly suffocate under the weight of their own body pinned to the wood. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that sight; I can only imagine how it would feel to know each of those males before this. The bond still swirls beneath my skin, heavy with agitation the hot water can’t touch.

I wish there was a way to take that from them, but how can I do that without calling attention to the mating bond?

I give myself a few extra minutes in the blissful heat before dragging myself out and tossing a silk robe over my waterlogged skin. My brush is on the vanity where Anise left it this morning and I have just started to brush the knots out of my hair when I hear the bedroom door open. My hand stills halfway through my hair; it is unlike Anise to not announce herself when it’s this late.

The door clicks shut again, the eerie silence that follows enough to make my heart drop into my stomach. The darkness of the room makes it hard to see beyond the candlelight that fills the bathing chamber and my hand goes instinctively into the vanity drawer, where my Mother had always kept an extra knife. The blade is cool in my fingers, the handle smooth and undamaged from never being used. The benefit of having constant guards is you usually never see the threats against you, though there are always exceptions.

There’s no footsteps on the carpet, but I can practically feel movement next to my bed.

I’m a sitting duck here among all the candlelight, but if I step into the darkness beyond I’ll be totally blind. Better to wait for something to make itself known.

I suppose there’s enough guards around, I can always start screaming for help if it comes down to it.

A heartbeat passes before something dark and snakelike comes slithering across the floor. The ether loops itself around my ankle and crawls up my thigh like a purring cat before the shadow takes its perch behind my ear.

I set the knife on the vanity with a sigh of relief as Azriel steps into the light. “You scared the shit out of me!”

His shadow caresses the back of my ear in apology, far more expressive now than it was earlier. “Sorry.”

He side steps out of the doorway, but not in my direction, which is odd until Rhysand steps out of the shadows behind him.

“How did you two get in here?”

“Found the lever on the door to your secret tunnel,” Azriel says as his eyes trace up my bare legs, brazenly taking in all the damp skin I have on display.

Heat flushes up my cheeks and I have to look away from him. The candlelight and the hour of the evening makes this feel more intimate than it should, given the way Rhysand looks like he might burst out of his skin. I certainly shouldn’t be entertaining the idea that Azriel would look at me as anything other than a means to an end. Hope is too dangerous a thing to have right now. Just because we agreed to do this, doesn’t mean they’re anxious to accept me as anything other than help. Besides, I need to remind myself that it will be even more dangerous for us than it already is if we were to acknowledge the bond.

“We were careful, no one saw us,” Azriel assures.

I should be relieved that they’re being safe about it, but the frown on Rhysand’s face makes me rethink it.

“What the hell were you thinking back there?!” He snarls.

Normally, that kind of outburst from a male would make me jump back in surprise, but at this point I’m too exhausted to move, let alone figure out what the hell he’s referring to. “I’ve had a lot of thoughts today, Rhysand, you will have to be more specific.”

The chain rattles around his neck as he steps further into the room, like it's fighting to hold back his powers. “Your bet with Hybern!”

Ah, right. That. “What of it?” Is he really still upset about that? Cassian won, nothing was lost.

Azriel winces and the shadow at my ear hisses in warning.

“What of it?” He repeats, his voice rising to an octave just shy of shrill, like he can’t believe he heard me right. “You can’t just offer yourself up like that!”

“And what was my alternative?”

“He gave you an alternative!” He seethes. “All you had to do was say yes!”

I fold my arms over my chest in irritation, but I don’t miss the way both their eyes dip to my chest at the motion. “Oh so it’s ok for you to put your body on the line, but I can’t do the same with my own? Seems a little hypocritical, if you ask me.”

“That’s different!”

“How so?”

He’s inched his way into my space step by step, until I’m very aware of the jasmine and citrus scent of him. Sometime after he returned home he’d changed into the clothes I’d had laid out for him, the swirl of ink along his chest just barely poking out around the dark collar. Even hidden, the urge to reach out with my hands and trace the swirls with my fingers remains.

“Because,” he says through his teeth. “It’s not a deal I can live with.”

“You don’t have to live with it because Cassian won anyway,” I retort, tearing my gaze away to look at Azriel. Rhysand is too close to me like this. I can barely think past the urge to touch him, let alone hold the argument like I need to. “Tell him he’s being ridiculous.”

Azriel folds his arms over his chest and frowns. “He’s not. You shouldn’t have made that deal.”

I throw my hands up and push past Rhysand, trying to give myself room to breathe. “You two are impossible!”

They follow like I’m still holding onto their leashes, footsteps somehow impossibly silent despite their size.

“You’re honestly going to stand there and tell me you’d rather I offered you up to Amarantha?”

“If it meant you were safe,” Rhysand snarls. “Yes.”

I find myself gritting my teeth, a snarl working its way up my throat. “Well that’s not a deal I could live with, Rhysand.”

Their legs are a hell of a lot longer than mine, Rhysand manages to snag my arm and turn me back around to face him before I make it more than three steps into the darkness of my chambers.

His face looks strained, eyes rimmed red. He has to be exhausted. The bond feels fragile, strained from all the emotions that have been blared down it today. “I need you to find a way to deal with it,” he says, voice verging on pleading.

I hate myself, but I can’t help but wonder what the hand holding onto my bicep would feel like travelling down the rest of my body.

“Whatever you have to tell yourself, whatever you have to do, I… We need you to find a way to live with it.”

Azriel comes to stand on the other side of him, so they’re nearly shoulder to shoulder. “If Cass had lost and you had to…” even in the dim light coming from the bathroom I can see the heaviness in his eyes.

I glance back and forth between them. “You’ve all suffered enough, I can handle myself. I knew what I was doing.”

Rhysand shakes his head, “I can bear a lot of things, but not that.”

Hope is a cruel bastard, and I’ve never learned to master it. “Why? What does it matter to you?”

He lifts the hand not holding onto my arm, fingers just barely brushing over my damp cheek and my heartbeat is suddenly very loud in my own ears. His mouth opens like he might say something, and then he clamps it shut again, debating with himself over the words.

While he can’t seem to find the words, Azriel’s scarred hand reaches out to gently grab my chin and tilt my face in his direction. “It matters,” he huffs, voice low and rich and the reverberations of it send shivers down my spine. “Because you’re our mate.”

------

Author's Note: Hehe was gonna wait for the reveal at the end but couldn't bring myself to do it. Let me know what you thought about it! And as always, if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know :)

@sirenpearldust, @saltedcoffeescotch, @littlemissfix-itfic, @waka-babe, @raisam

@anainkandpaper, @rafeecameronsbitch, @whothehelliskayleigh, @lifetobeareader, @blimpintime,

@hjgdhghoe, @krowiathemythologynerd, @urfunnyvalentin3, @mack234-blog1, @kissfromnovalie

@marrass , @lia-h-r, @celestialzdiviner, @daughterofthemoons-stuff, @tenshis-cake,

@of-outerspace, @erencvlt, @corvusmorte, @lindsayjoy444,

#rhys x reader #rhysand x reader #azriel x reader #Cassian x reader #bat!boys x reader #poly!bat boys #poly!bat boys x reader #gladiator!bat boys #gladiator!bat boys x reader #gladiator fic #acotar fic #acotar au #acotar angst #acotar smut #my writing #my fanfic

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fluentmoviequoter · 2 months ago

Text

The Best Present

hot cocoa bar celebration🧤❄️🎄

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!(implied cop)!reader

Summary: You want to ask Tim to be your date to a Christmas party, but he's going with another woman. When you're caught under the mistletoe together, you give Tim more than a present.

Warnings/Word Count: fluff, brief angst. 1.2k+ words

“Tim!” you call as you exit the locker room. When he stops and turns toward you, you smile and ask, “Can we talk?”

Tim begins to nod but is interrupted by Angela reminding everyone of the Evers-Lopez Christmas party tonight. As she tells the surrounding officers about the gift exchange, food, and fun she and Wesley have planned, your eyes stray to Tim. It has taken over a week to convince yourself it isn’t a terrible idea, and now you’re ready to ask Tim to go with you to the party. Your fingers tap nervously against your hip, though you’re oblivious to Tim’s repeated glances at you.

“Who’s bringing a date?” Angela inquires. “I need to make sure we have enough food.”

“And mistletoe?” Nyla guesses.

“I don’t even know what that is,” Angela deflects. “Dates? Timothy?”

“Yeah, I’m bringing someone,” Tim answers.

Angela’s jaw drops as you and everyone else swing your head to look wide-eyed at him. She had been kidding when she called him out specifically and certainly didn’t expect him to say he had a date. Tim says her name and where they met, but you can’t hear anything over your heart pounding and a week’s worth of doubts swirling.

“You said you wanted to talk?” Tim remembers as the surprise diminishes and people begin leaving the station.

“Yeah…” you answer. “It can wait, though. Enjoy your date.”

You could’ve still asked him or told him the truth of what you wanted to talk about, but it’s easier this way. You’ll be at the same party. Tim with his date and you with what’s left of your Christmas cheer and a heart crushed like peppermint.

Tucked into a corner with one of Lucy’s Christmas cookies, you watch the party from a safe distance. Tim’s date is gorgeous, as you expected, and you fight to keep your attention away from them.

“Hey,” Lucy greets as she approaches your safe haven. You send her a close-lipped smile, and she lays her hand on your shoulder. “What’s up?”

“Nothing worth talking about,” you say. “These cookies are amazing by the way. Peppery ginger snaps, who knew?”

“My aunt. But, seriously, if you decide you want to talk, you know where to find me.”

“I do. Go enjoy the party.”

“As long as you do, too. I’m getting your gift during Dirty Santa and if Tim even thinks about stealing it, I’ll tell Angela about his bad attitude last week.”

“I think I’d like to see that.”

Lucy sends you a heart with her hands, and you finish the last bite of your cookie. Walking through Angela’s house to either get another or throw away your plate (you’ll decide when you get there), you keep your eyes down until your shoulder bumps into someone.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, looking up.

“You’re on a mission,” Tim muses. “There’s no more cookies, but if you’re nice to Nyla, she might tell you where she’s hiding them.”

“I could just get something else,” you murmur, thinking it would be easier to get someone else, but you want Tim.

“Uh, guys?” Nolan interrupts. “You’re under the mistletoe.”

Tim tips his head back and spots the green leaves hanging sneakily above a doorframe. You shake your head at Nolan, but he waves Angela over despite your protests.

“It’s tradition!” she argues. “You have to!”

“Yes!” Lucy agrees when she realizes where you are. “Kiss!”

Several of your friends cheer, and you shake your head again.

“Don’t be such a Scrooge!” Lucy tells Tim.

“I knew you were going to say that,” Tim complains.

“Tim, you’re here with a date,” you remind him softly.

Tim clicks his tongue, then raises his hands to the sides of your neck and jaw. “We have no choice,” he points out.

You let your eyes flutter shut as you lean in and kiss Tim. The noise of the party fades as you grip Tim’s waist and move with him. When Tim pulls back, you notice that the crowd beside you has dissipated.

“Where’s, uh…” you begin.

“My date?” Tim guesses with a barely contained smile.

“Yeah.”

“She left ten minutes in, decided this wasn’t her scene – her words.”

“How is a Christmas party not someone’s scene?”

Tim shrugs, and you apologize for his bad date.

“It worked out,” Tim replies.

“Gift time!” Angela yells from the living room.

You find a place on a small loveseat by Tim and watch as the white elephant gift exchange begins. After the moment beneath the mistletoe, a feeling of magic lingers within you. You must tell Tim about your feelings for this to go beyond Christmas.

“Don’t get attached to that,” Nolan says as Wesley opens an expensive tool set.

Laying your head on Tim’s shoulder, you don’t feel him freeze beneath you. He watches you laugh with his friends, content in an environment – his environment – when his date couldn’t even tolerate walking past the cookie table. As Tim relaxes, welcoming you into his space, and feels the same warmness he had while kissing you, he unknowingly gives you his heart. You give him yours in return, and it’s the best gift exchange you’ve ever participated in.

Lucy opens your gift and squeals before tucking it under her sweater.

“I’m stealing that, so make it a little easier to get to,” Tim warns her.

“No!” Lucy exclaims. “Angela, Tim yelled at me last week.”

“She can’t save you now,” Tim tells Lucy. “I need that one.”

“Why?” Angela asks, raising her eyebrows as she glances toward you.

“You’re a detective, Lopez, figure it out.”

“Let me give you a ride home?” Tim asks in your ear.

You nod and accept his hand as you stand. After receiving hugs and gifts from a few friends, you follow Tim outside, and a soft white powder falls from above to greet you.

“Is that what I think it is?” Tim whispers.

Extending your hand, you catch some on your fingers and raise it to your nose. “Only if you think it’s powdered sugar.”

“Chen!” Tim barks. “What are you doing?”

“What?” Lucy asks from behind him. “Is that snow?”

“It’s close enough!” Nyla answers.

“Nyla?” you ask, stepping out into the powdered sugar snow. “Wade?!”

Tim follows you onto the walkway. His eyes widen when he sees his watch commander perched on the roof and spreading fake snow through a sieve.

“Act like I’m not here,” James adds, pouring more sugar into his shaker.

Nyla rolls her eyes and looks at Tim to demand, “Just kiss her again and put us out of our misery before New Year’s.”

You don’t have time to question her command before Tim pulls you in. The door clicks closed as you taste the powdered sugar on Tim’s lips, and you smile against him as the fine confectioner’s treat covers your clothing.

“I was going to ask you to come with me,” you admit, leaning your forehead against Tim’s as his arms wrap around your waist. “Like a date.”

“Raincheck for New Year’s Eve?” Tim suggests.

“Will it be like this?”

“I hope not.”

Nyla scoffs, but you kiss Tim in the makeshift winter wonderland rather than replying. You have been in love with Tim Bradford for longer than the duration of this party, but learning that he loves you too is a Christmas present that will never be topped.

#fluentmoviequoter hot cocoa bar🧤❄️🎄#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford fic #tim bradford imagine #the rookie x reader #the rookie abc #fem!reader #hanna writes✯

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thoughtsandmusingsandideas · 10 months ago

Note

I had a thought for a creator but they didn't believe they were the creator and could influence others into believing it too.

The two characters are Sara kujou and yae miko

@mastadon64 here you go!

Gaslight, Gatekeep, Godboss - Kujou Sara and Yae Miko

Kujou Sara

Cw: Sexual innuendos

-Honestly, waking up in Teyvat, you had a hard time convincing yourself you weren’t dreaming

-(It took you tumbling down a hill and slamming into a particularly sharp rock to realize it was not a dream. Also, ow)

-(You ignored the way your blood was golden. You were pretty sure you’d never seen the Genshin characters bleed anyways. It was probably just censoring. Totally.)

-Some way or another, you ended up in Inazuma

-Honestly, it wasn’t as bad as you were expecting

-Most of the creatures were pretty chill, and as long as you avoided the people, you didn’t get in much trouble

-And then you kicked a Tenryou commission officer in the face and got arrested

-You know, jail wasn’t as bad as you expected either!

-Your cellmates weren’t too bad either- one of them asked you if you were god, which was weird, because you didn’t look anything like the Shogun, but you gave him a stick of dango and he shut up

-(You might not have been a god, but the fact that you managed to keep your inventory from the game was the closest thing to a divine blessing that you could imagine. Who needs a gnosis when you have your own pocket dimension?)

-It’s about half an hour before you’re taken from your cell for questioning

-You walk into a small interrogation room, shock igniting in your chest as you spot Kujou Sara

-Wasn’t she important?

-Was kicking that guy in the face really such a grave offense?

-“Are you the Creator God?” She asks, deathly serious

-Why did people keep asking you this???

-You’re pretty sure you don’t look too godly, garbed in stolen clothes that you’re ninety percent sure you put on wrong, a fading bite mark on your arm from when you tried to pet a rifthound, leaves in your hair. Honestly, you looked pretty disheveled, and…

-“Is that your way of saying you think I’m hot? Like… godly or whatever?”

-Considering the way the Tengu’s face turns a vibrant red, you’re either very right, or very wrong

-It’d be funnier if you were right though, so you press on

-“I mean, not that I’m not into it, but I’m feeling kinda iffy about the power dynamic here- prisoner and cop is a cute trope and all, but not all that smart in real life, I mean I get it if it’s a kink or whatever, I know handcuffs are attractive, but as of right now it’s immoral-”

-“Shut up. Please.” Sara mumbled, covering her red face with her hand. Her hair has more volume than usual, tiny sparks of static dancing between the strands

-“… I mean after I get out of prison I’d totally be down to go on a date, and if you feed me well enough I might even let you handcuff me.” You add.

-The silence in the room is heavy

-“Get out.”

-“Yes ma’am. Hm. No. Yes Mommy? Yes Master-“

-You’re cut off by an electrically charged arrow striking the wall beside your head.

-“Out.”

-“Okay!”

-You’re released from prison three days later, now with a whole gaggle of new friends from criminals

-(You ignored the fact that some of them made really important sounding speeches swearing their fealty to you. Also the small shrine they were building in your honor. If you didn’t acknowledge it, it didn’t exist)

-You were surprised that as soon as you left, you were met with a glaring Kujou Sara, who takes your hand in her own

-“Am I being arrested again?”

-“… I’m going to take you on a date. And then I’m going to handcuff you.”

-“Yes Mommy!”

-“I Will Shoot You Again.”

Yae Miko

-You had to admit, stumbling upon a small shrine that seemed to be dedicated to your doppelgänger was creepy

-But you had also just been Isekaied to video game land, so you were pretty adaptable at the moment.

-Or high on adrenaline.

-You pick up one of the Sunsiettas from the shrine, biting down and relaxing, until-

-“Your excellency?!” A voice squeaks, and looking up you see a very frazzled shrine maiden staring at you.

-“Uh. No?” You say, swallowing the Sunsietta.

-The shrine maiden starts sobbing. “Your excellency!”

-“Oh- no- I’m- uh- I’m like you? You know? I’m uh… a messiah? Priest? Prophet? Whatever gets you to stop crying?” You awkwardly pat her head.

-“You- you’re the Creators chosen one?” She blubbers.

-“Uh. Yeah. Totally. Stop crying.”

-“CHOSEN ONE!” And she’s crying again

-After a lot of crying, you’re led to the Grand Narukami shrine, where you’re introduced to the head shrine maiden as the chosen one

-“… Are you sure she’s not just the creator?”

-“You flatter me. I’m just gods favoritist and most specialist little princess.”

-The Kitsune likes this. Perhaps too much, but we’ll let her have her fun

-And thus, the war to get you to admit that you’re the Creator begins, hidden under the guise of her introducing you to chosen one duties

-She takes you on a pilgrimage all across Inazuma first, going to the most dangerous places possible just to put you in danger and save you at the last second, disappointed that you never use godly powers to save (read: reveal) yourself

-She meditates with you, and paints obscure markings on your face when you fall asleep, which you have to pass off as messages from the creator

-She takes you to meet the Shogun, but after leaving you alone for five minutes, returns to you teaching her poker and robbing her blind. You cited divine luck and she pretended she didn’t notice the cards stuffed inside your sleeve

-It ends pretty anticlimactically, actually

-She’s introducing you to the local foxes, when you trip over a rock and face plant into the floor

-And get a nose bleed

-Miko can’t help but doubling over in laughter at the sight of your pout as golden blood drips down your face

-“And how are you explaining this one, Oh revered Chosen One?”

-“Genetic condition.”

-The laughter doubles

#genshin sagau #sagau #sagau x reader #sagau genshin #self aware genshin impact au #genshin impact sagau #sagau cult au #sagau Kujou Sara #Sagau Yae Miko #I got a bit distracted with Sara and didn’t add too much creator stuff #but I still like it #I’m incapable of writing the creator as normal because I am not normal #the creator is an agent of chaos and we love them for it #RIP random shrine maiden she’s probably dehydrated now from all the crying #honestly to properly acclimate to a whole new world you’ve gotta be at least a bit insane

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carlsangel · 7 months ago

Text

CAN’T THINK STRAIGHT

carl grimes x fem!reader

(you were chosen at terminus.)

tags: angst to comfort, themes pertaining to terminus.

masterlist here!

You were absolutely terrified when you were pulled from the large container that you were held in at Terminus. You remember Carl grasping at your hand, trying to keep them from taking you but he couldn’t hold on tight enough. Once you were gone he started to blame himself. He immediately felt that your life was at stake and it was his fault.

You were in and out of consciousness while you were dragged away from your family. All that ran through your head is that you weren’t able to properly say goodbye to anyone, you believed you were the only one being taken but soon you realized you weren’t. You were able to take in everything once you were in a larger room, a room where you heard a loud blade, so loud that you realized you hadn’t heard a noise like that in a while.

You look up to be met with a terrifying image that would most likely be engraved in your brain for a while. You were scared it would be you soon. You were thinking, there needed to be some way out, you were always able to escape. You were thrown next to Rick, once settling onto your knees you look down the row to see Daryl and Glenn as well, along with another group of four people who you didn’t know.

Once Rick took it all in, realizing that you’d be sitting right next to him, he panicked. He’d do anything in his power for you not to be there, after all you were incredibly important to him and Carl. You were family. The next few moments were taunting and torturous. There were things you would definitely not forget.

You were able to escape death, maybe for the tenth time in your life. You couldn’t think, you just took orders from Rick or went into the direction he shoved you into run. You didn’t even really react when reuniting with Carl either. You just let him tackle you into a hug, and you can’t quite reciprocate it, instead you just freeze until he feels you not responding and he pulls away.

From then on you can’t quite open up. Carl hated every second of it. He wasn’t sure what to do, you practically shut him out completely. Michonne noticed his frustration. At some point she caught him just staring at you after it all while you were out on the road the day after Terminus. You were sitting on a log by the fire and he stood next to a tree and just watched you.

You kept your head down, sort of drawing shapes into the dirt beneath your feet quietly. That was until Abraham dropped a log into the fire, causing a loud noise which you couldn’t help but flinch at. Everyone noticed, the yelp that came from your mouth as you shielded your head. Just the noise coming from the fire’s flames growing louder filled the silence before Abraham spoke.

“Sorry, little one…didn’t mean to startle ya.” He says apologetically, his tone was quiet, he seemed sincere and concerned. You shake your head, telling him it’s fine and to move on. Meanwhile with Carl watching you, he noticed how startled you gotten and he just wanted to help you. He was going to walk over to you before Michonne stopped him. “Don’t. Not right now.” She tells him, leading him to be frustrated. “She’s seen a lot. I’m not exactly sure what, it’ll be a while before she truly opens up but…give her some time.”

So he does, he gives you a couple days but you start to warm up to everyone again once all the remaining people from Terminus were killed at the church. You felt somewhat relieved. Like they couldn’t hurt you anymore. Even though they never did and never could. You started talking to Carl more often which made him ecstatic. Except you avoided any topics toward Terminus. You put up a front, you didn’t want to think of it so you acted like it didn’t happen.

He understood but he wanted nothing more than for you to open up to him. He’s so in love with you, he just wants to help but he can’t if you just act like nothing happened.

That was all until after losing Beth and Tyreese. That’s what set you off. You wandered far into the forest while you guys stopped for some food and water, little did you know Carl was following behind. You walked quite far, cleared any of the walkers on the way before you slumped down against a tree trunk. Not long after, Carl approached. You expected him to be there, he’s sort of been lingering.

He walks over and sits next to you, his eyes focused on you the entire time. You stay silent until he speaks up, bringing your attention from the floor beneath you to him. “You know I love you…right?” He tells you. “I really do. I want you to talk to me. I wanna help you.” He continues. You just look at him, your eyes sort of pleading like you want to tell him but you can’t. “I just…I want you to open up.”

Your pleading eyes start to fill with tears. You wanted to ignore everything that happened at Terminus but with the past weeks you’ve realized holding it in only makes it worse.

“It was horrible, like really terrifying. They were sawing a man apart in front of us…they were gonna drain all our blood. Almost killed Glenn if it wasn’t for Carol.” At this point, tears were falling from your face and he was wiping every single one away for you. He looked at you so intently. “Gareth waved a knife in front of my face…he was gonna take my eye out if your dad didn’t cooperate.” You mutter. He feels horrible for you, he has no idea what he could do for you besides comforting you. He didn’t realize how bad Terminus truly was. “I just…I can’t stop thinking about it. I feel like I can’t think straight.”

He leaned forward to place a kiss on your forehead which lead to him pulling you into him for a hug. He rests his chin atop your forehead while you hug him tightly. Every time you squeeze him, he squeezes back.

“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. I mean it.”

a/n: maxine how dare you request this ITS SO PAINFUL!!!!! AGHHH!!!!! I’m jk this was sooooo rjgsjfbdjdjff sobbing pissing and shitting my pants i love it even though it’s so upsetting AHHHH

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh @callsignwidow

#carl grimes #twd #the walking dead #carl grimes twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes the walking dead #the walking dead carl #carl grimes smut #carl grimes angst #twd carl #twd fanfiction #twd angst

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vrystalius · 3 months ago

Note

hello! your halloween event sounds super cute, can i please request going trick-or-treating with gyutaro shabana? 🩷🩷 love your work and really admire you as a person and a writer, please take care!

Trick or Treating with Gyutaro.

The only day of the year where he can feel a little more confident in his own skin.

Pairing: Gyutaro x gn!reader

Gyutaro was staring at you while you were leaning closer towards your mirror, trying to paint the birthmarks of his perfectly onto your face. You wanted to match with him while going out to trick or treat, much to his surprise. He thought you might be ashamed to go out with him or go out with Daki. But after asking his sister if she’d like to go out, she bashed him for treating her like a child. He beat himself up for upsetting his sister like that, so you suggested you two could go together! Gyutaro looks a scary and special, like a really cool costume! What he would’ve taken as an insult any other day was now perceived as a compliment. The excitement especially started bubbling up in his stomach while watching you try to match him so badly. You spend hours trying to mix up the correct foundation colour on his palm until you finally managed to kind of recreate his skin colour.

After an hour of work, you and your boyfriend were finally matching! Although your posture and body type is not exactly the same, the resemblance was still there. Now all you two have to do is wait until the sun goes down and he is finally able to leave to house. But until then, Gyutaro has gotten awfully cuddly. He didn’t bother to explain why the sudden affection because you were to distracted trying to shield your face to not smudge your make-up. He couldn’t stop staring at the black spots and markings you copied. They made him feel like you two were bonded now, like soulmates. You had a piece of him marked on you now, even if it is just temporary and supposed to be a scary costume, it still made him feel all warm and fuzzy how hard you were trying to imitate his marks.

After night finally came, Gyutaro kept snickering and laughing at the sad excuses of costumes some random kids put together. Your boyfriend also found immense joy in scaring toddlers. He straightened his back to make himself even taller and would flash his teeth, giggling and silently showing off his sharp nails. Those poor kids ran back to their mother or to wherever they came from. Why are there even kids in the entertainment district?

You were a little envious at how much candy Gyutaro was scoring. His success was either because people found him to have a very convincing costume (with his waist looking so inhumane and his skin looking so sickly all over his body), or because he was silently threatening the home owners to hand over all of their remaining sweets. That way you can enjoy the most amount and no other stupid kids can eat them. Maybe you can hand out some candy in Daki’s brothel if you don’t want to keep the multiple buckets of candy. Gyutaro saw how little candy you were getting in comparison to him and proceeded to slip some over into your bucket everytime you’re not paying attention. It was making him happy seeing your eyes lit up when glancing into the bucket and finally noticing how your amount increased by a lot. That last guy sure gave you a lot of candy, huh? Or at least that’s what your boyfriend made you think to keep you happy.

“Here, t-take my stuff. I can’t eat it anyway… B-But can I watch you sort it through though? I wanna s-see what kinda candy I can get ya for the f-future…”

I’m going to be real with you, one of my closest friends has the EXACT same pfp as you, and when I saw the notification that you started following me, I thought you were her 😭 I was really confused and scared for a day or two XD (my friends aren’t aware of this blog yet). Also, don’t be shy to send in some requests for this event! <33

Anyways, I love Gyutaro, but also EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <3

Here’s my event masterlist 🎃

Here’s my Trick or Treat event 🎃

#💠 house of vry 💠#💠vry’s events💠#gyutaro x you #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #kny gyutaro #demon slayer gyutaro #gyutaro shabana #gyutaro #daki shabana #shabana siblings #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #fluff #demon slayer x y/n #kny x y/n #kny x you

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thollandsgirl2013 · 3 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫

Parings → Nathan Drake x Reader

Warnings → none

Summary → You're the new quite, shy girl in the team, and Nate loves to flirt with you.

(gif not mine)

The dusty air filled your lungs as you walked beside Sully, keeping to yourself like always. You had joined the group not too long ago after Sully had recruited you. He had seen something in you — maybe your quiet, observant nature, or your knack for finding things no one else could. Either way, it had landed you here with Nathan Drake, Chloe Frazer, and Sully himself, on yet another treasure hunt.

"Try not to get lost in your thoughts there, kid," Sully grumbled, giving you a nudge.

You blinked, realizing you'd been staring off at the distant horizon. "Sorry," you mumbled, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You had a habit of zoning out, especially when you were nervous. And around Nathan Drake, nerves were a constant.

Nate, who was a few paces ahead, glanced over his shoulder at you. The trademark smirk tugged at his lips, and you immediately felt your face warm.

"You should listen to Sully," Nate called back. "Wouldn't want to lose our secret weapon, would we?"

You shot him a small glare, though it lacked any real heat. Nate had taken an immediate liking to teasing you the moment you joined the group. Whether it was your shy nature or the way you blushed at the smallest hint of flirtation, you weren’t sure. But Nate seemed to get a kick out of it.

"I think I can manage," you replied, trying to sound more confident than you felt. It wasn’t that you disliked Nate. Quite the opposite, actually. But his constant teasing kept you on edge, making it hard to focus.

"Yeah, I bet you can," Nate said, falling back a few steps to walk beside you. He leaned in slightly, his voice low. "But you gotta admit, it’s kind of cute when you get all flustered."

Your eyes widened as the heat in your cheeks intensified. "I’m not— I’m not flustered," you stammered, knowing full well that the blush covering your face betrayed you.

Nate chuckled, clearly enjoying the reaction. "Sure you’re not."

Sully, who was walking ahead, grumbled something about "kids these days" but didn’t intervene. He had seen the way Nate liked to mess with you and probably figured you could handle yourself. Chloe, who was at the back of the group, remained quiet but shot you an amused glance. She had been pretty neutral toward you since you joined, though you suspected she found Nate’s antics just as entertaining as he did.

The group pressed on through the abandoned ruins, the chatter dying down as everyone focused on the task at hand. You were good at your job, and despite the teasing, Nate never doubted your abilities. You’d proven yourself time and time again by spotting clues and solving puzzles that no one else could. That was part of the reason why Sully had recruited you — you were observant, detail-oriented, and quick-thinking. A valuable asset to any treasure-hunting team.

As the day wore on and the group found themselves in front of an ancient stone wall, everyone took a moment to assess the situation. Nate crouched down, examining some markings, while Chloe and Sully stood a few feet away, discussing their next move.

You, meanwhile, kept your distance, your eyes scanning the area, trying to piece together the puzzle. You liked observing from a distance, quietly working through the clues in your head before offering your insight. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust the others; it was just easier to think when you weren’t the center of attention.

After a few minutes, you spotted something that caught your eye — a subtle engraving hidden near the base of the wall. It looked like a small, almost invisible lever.

"Uh, I think I found something," you said softly, stepping forward and pointing to the spot.

Nate immediately perked up, grinning as he joined you. "Let’s see what you’ve got."

He leaned in close, far too close, and you could feel his breath on your neck. It took all your willpower not to flinch, though your face betrayed you once again by turning red.

"Nice work," he murmured, his voice low and almost teasing. "You are really good at this, you know?"

You swallowed hard, avoiding eye contact. "It’s nothing."

Nate chuckled, reaching out to pull the lever you’d pointed out. With a soft grinding sound, the wall shifted, revealing a hidden passageway. The group gathered around, impressed by your find, but all you could focus on was the way Nate was still standing so close, his shoulder brushing yours.

"See?" He said quietly, glancing down at you. "You don’t give yourself enough credit."

You couldn’t bring yourself to respond. Your heart was pounding too loudly in your chest, and your thoughts were a jumbled mess. Nate had that effect on you, no matter how hard you tried to play it cool.

Chloe, noticing the interaction, rolled her eyes. "Save the flirting for later, Drake. We’ve got work to do."

Nate grinned, finally stepping back and giving you a little space. "Right, right. Don’t worry, there’ll be plenty of time for that later."

You shot him a look, half-exasperated and half-embarrassed, as Sully led the way into the passage. You followed closely behind, keeping your head down and trying to focus on anything other than the teasing smirk you knew Nate was still wearing.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of narrow passageways, booby traps, and solving ancient riddles. You managed to hold your own, as always, but every time Nate got too close or threw a flirty comment your way, you felt yourself flushing all over again.

By the time the group made camp for the night, you were utterly exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Sitting by the fire, you kept to yourself, as usual, letting the others talk while you observed quietly. It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy their company — it was just easier to watch from the sidelines.

Nate, however, seemed determined not to let you slip away so easily. He sat down beside you, his expression a mix of mischief and curiosity.

"You know," he said softly, "you don’t have to be so quiet all the time. We like having you around."

You blinked, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. "I just… I’m not great at… talking."

Nate smiled, his gaze softening. "That’s okay. I think you’re perfect just the way you are."

Your heart skipped a beat, and for once, you couldn’t find the words to respond. But as you glanced up at him, meeting his eyes, you could see that maybe, just maybe, Nathan Drake wasn’t just teasing after all.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

#tom holland #tomholland2013 #thollandsgirl2013 #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x fem!reader #nathan drake x fem!reader #tom holland nate drake #tom holland nathan drake #nathan drake x reader #nate drake #fanfic #fanfiction #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader

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urinarythreatinfection · 6 months ago

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Tbh I had this already written. Poll had the shortest time as a day. HELLA warning though, this isn't non or dub con but it IS gorey. I wrote this shit at like 11pm and I was stressed the hell out and kinda pissed. (well the outline of it anyway). I'm a gore enjoyer, not in a weird way I just like the way it's written or drawn i don't like actual gore. Anyway the gore here isn't that bad but there is some so I'll say there is gore as a warning. I also put a small border for the people that don't wanna read the smut since there is some story.

The Cute and Obsessive You

Yandere Shanks x Male reader. Reader matches Shanks's freak. Smut so minors read something else until I write not smut. top male reader. Violence warning. 4,135ish words.

Your boyfriend is very cute, you know that of course, you also know that he gets just a little worried when you’re out of his sight. That’s why when you opened your eyes to an unfamiliar place, tied to a chair, your first thought before worrying for yourself was ‘Oh no, I hope my boyfriend is gonna be okay.’ and you were correct in your worry, because Shanks is not okay.

“(Y/n)!?” Shanks calls out as he searches around for you. “(Y/n)!” He calls out, his heart racing. Where are you? Did you run away? Finally getting tired of him and leaving? How could you do that to him, when he cares about you so so much!? He gave you everything! Something clicks, what if you were gone unwillingly? What if someone took you. Took you from him? “(Y/N)! Sweetie, please come out if you’re somewhere around here!” He’s been searching for a while now, feeling stupid. Of course you wouldn’t leave him, you loved him, but he had thought this island was safe. Shanks had taken his eyes off of you, busy with the townsfolk swarming him. He hadn’t been to this island in a long while so they were excited to see him, and you had told Shanks you were going to explore nearby. Shanks trusted that. Trusted that this island that was friendly to him would be friendly to you, there should’ve been no danger to you. That’s not to mention you weren’t weak either, but people don’t always get what they want by being strong. A pretty looking flower is what it took, you’d been interested in the local flora so you went to check it out. It was only when you took a closer look that you realized it looked unusual, by then it was already too late. The fake flower had let out a gas and knocked you out. Now here you were, in a place unfamiliar to you.

“Hello?” You call out, but there’s no answer. Your weapon has been taken, but they’ve made a mistake, not finding the knife that you keep on you for emergencies. That means you could cut yourself free… but what then? You don’t know where you are and the door is locked, and to be honest.. you’re a little curious. You don’t feel like you’re in any real danger, and Shanks is probably going to find you eventually. The thought of him finding you, desperate to see you with a crazed look, fills you with satisfaction; so you wait. Eventually a woman comes down from the stairs and enters the room holding a long blade.

“Hello.” She greets you. “You’re lucid, good. Do you know why I’m doing this?” You think for a moment, Shanks had said this place was friendly so you’re not sure, but she answers the question for you. “I’ll just answer anyway. I did this because you bother our chief, clinging to him like a leech. You’re not nearly as strong as him or the rest of his crew, I even managed to kidnap you with some fake flower. It’s dangerous for him to have someone by his side, especially someone so weak. He’d be better off without you.” Her words sting a little, she has somewhat of a point. If it weren’t for the fact that it might be impossible to leave Shanks this could’ve even convinced you to.

‘Wow.. my cute and obsessive boyfriend knows some people that act similar to him.’ You think to yourself as she points the knife to your neck, pricking you. ‘Uh oh.’ This got much more dangerous quickly. Meanwhile, Shanks is still searching for you, finally finding flattened grass where it looks like someone was dragged.

‘He didn’t run away!’ Shanks is almost relieved before he realizes you being kidnapped and in danger isn’t much better. He clenches his jaw and quickly follows the flattened grass to a cottage in the woods, entering and looking around. “I don’t have time for this.” He mumbles to himself and decides to destroy everything until he finds you, crashing things to the floor and breaking through walls to find his lover. You hear the sounds above you and try to yell out, but your mouth is quickly covered by the woman. You take a deep breath and instead tip over your own chair and let yourself slam to the ground. The sound alerts Shanks and he looks down, realizing there's a room underneath this cottage. He needs to get to you, that thought sticks to his mind until he breaks a hole into the floor and drops into the room with you and the woman; though there was an entrance he could’ve found had he looked a little longer.

“C-Chief!” The woman stutters, panicked. “You, I-I” She doesn’t know what to say, turning silent when she looks at Shanks and finds someone she doesn’t recognize. Someone unlike the kind person she’s been doing this for. Crazed eyes look from her to your fallen and tied up form.

“Baby, are you okay?” He goes to you, ignoring her.

“I’m alright, just tipped my chair over.” You reassure him and he’s about to sigh in relief when he catches sight of something. Blood on your neck from the prick she had given you earlier. Blood, your blood. His vision quickly goes red and he grabs her, slamming her onto the ground.

“Chief, please let me exp- AAHH!” Her words are interrupted by a scream of pain when he stomps on her arm, shattering it. She starts to cry but it’s too late, he’s seen your injury and the blood you’ve shed is worth more than she could ever be.

“How dare you, how dare you. Mine, You hurt my boyfriend. My boyfriend.” His voice is laced with rage as she cries, screaming as he stomps on her limbs. Hands, arms, legs, it’s not long until they’re reduced to a mess of flesh and bone stuck to her by her skin.

“sorry sorry ‘m sorry it hurts.” She can’t even struggle, having screamed too much already. You stare at this, then try to move out of your restraints. Pain shoots up your leg.

“Ow!” You yelp and Shanks turns to look back at you, anger replaced by worry. “I’m okay! I think I just twisted my ankle a little when I fell.” You explain, feeling a little embarrassed you yelped over such a small injury. He looks back at the woman and she realizes, in her final moments, that you were so much more than she could’ve comprehended. Shanks grabs her by the hair and slams her head into the wall, creating a crater with the impact. What’s left of her head splatters across the concrete, and he drops her crushed corpse to the ground with a thud. He can hear the blood rushing through his ears, only snapping out of it when he hears your voice. “Shanks!” The redhead turns back to you, walking over and crouching down.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I let you out of my sight and doubted you when you were stuck here. This is my fault-” He starts but you interrupt him.

“Shanks you’re very lovely like this but please untie me first.” You ask him and his eyes clear.

“R-Right. Sorry.” He quickly cuts the ropes with his sword and you stand while rubbing your wrists. Once you’re both standing he starts to shake, emotions filling his psyche. Anger for the ones that hurt you, guilt he let this happen, sadness you got hurt, relief you’re still alive. They swim in his head, crowding and messing with his mind. You notice this and pull him into a soft hug

“It’s okay~ It’s okay~” Your fingers run through his red hair, ignoring the blood mixing in. “I’m okay, I’m alive and safe. You didn’t fail me, I’m right here.” He clings to you.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.. I’m so happy you're safe.” He says, burying his face in your shoulder. Shanks still feels guilty, but his emotions calm with you in his grasp. You feel him clutch onto you tighter and you can tell his anger is coming back now that his emotions are more sorted.

“It’s not the townspeople’s fault, honey.” You tell him, sensing his thoughts.

“They let this happen to you.” His voice is cold. This is their fault, they don’t deserve his help or his protection. They don’t even deserve their lives.

“Not all of them could’ve known.” You respond and he doesn’t answer. You sigh and pull him back enough to look into his clouded eyes. “Let's do this, we can go back into town, find out who helped this happen, and you can punish them. Okay?” He stares at you, considering what you said, then nods. “Good, thank you for understanding.” You give him a kiss on the cheek.

You and Shanks walk through the town, ignoring the horrified looks of townspeople seeing him covered in blood. Once you’re to the town square he yells out. “Everyone gather up!” They begin to gather in front of him while the Red Haired crew puts any children inside. They don’t need to see this. Shanks’s eyes scan the crowd until they finally land on a married couple, a wife and husband; they look guilty. Unlike the others who are scared and/or confused they look visibly jittery, as if they’ve done something wrong. What's more, when they meet your eyes they look away, as if from shame. ‘It’s them, they did this, they helped this happen.’ He walks over and stops directly in front of them, staring them down as they start to tremble. “You two have done something.” He says and they flinch. Some townsfolk try to ask Shanks what’s happening but Beckman and the others are smart, quickly leading the rest back inside so they don’t see their chief do this; or get caught in the crossfire. The couple try to deny it at first but eventually the wife breaks and starts to cry.

“Chief I’m sorry, I didn’t know she would go this far. We did this because we were worried about you.” She pleads with him and he stares at her.

“Worry? Worry!? You think your worry for me is enough of an excuse to do this? To harm what’s mine? No no no this isn’t how you’re going to escape responsibility.” Shanks is angry, angry that the town he trusted could do something so deplorable as causing harm to his boyfriend. He looks down at her with disgust and grabs her by the collar of her shirt. “You put your hands, your disgusting hands on my everything while I spent my time entertaining this town.” He moves his hand so it’s wrapped around her neck, gripping it firmly. "Was it amusing seeing me smile with you all, oblivious, while your friend was about to kill the love of my life?" She cries out and tries to struggle but it’s no use, he’s too strong; even as those struggles turn to scratches from his tightening grip, she's unable to make him budge as her vision goes dark.

SNAP

Shanks drops her lifeless body to the ground, red eyes trailing to the husband. He looks at the body of his wife, dead, and tears roll down his cheeks slowly. “Oh gods, please, chief please. I’m sorry.” His pleas are weak and useless as Shanks’s eyes bore into his. This is it, he can’t do anything. Even if he tried to run away he knows it’s futile, he wouldn’t even make it a step. His only hope is you, turning his head to look at you. You meet his eyes and give him a nervous laugh.

“Well it is kinda your fault, right?” You say sheepishly and his hope is gone, looking back to Shanks.

“Don’t look to him for help, you don’t deserve it.” The redhead states coldly and the husband closes his eyes, the world going black as Shanks cuts his head off of his shoulders. It rolls pathetically on the ground, and he stomps on it for good measure. The two previously pleading people full of life now reduced to lumps of soulless flesh. Shanks stares at what’s left of them, emotions still raging. It's unhealthy, you know that. This look of his is dangerous, the proof and symptom of his instability, but to you it's so so beautiful. The eyes of the kind, friendly, and lively red haired captain everyone knows are unlike everything about him. They're obsessive, crazed, uncaring, the light in his irises replaced by the unhealthy darkness you bring out of him. So beautiful.

“Shanks.” You call out and he quickly snaps his head to you, chest heaving with emotion. “You’re so cute like this.” You can’t help it, your crazy yandere boyfriend is so endearing when he’s obsessive like this. His face flushes slightly, caught off guard by the sudden compliment despite the gore around him.

“Really? Cute? N-Now??” He asks, he wouldn’t have been shocked if he turned to see you looking at him with disgust, disappointment, or even fear; but instead you look at him with your cheery and warm expression, nodding.

“Mhm!” You walk over to him and cup his face. “You were worried about me, right? I’m okay now, you saved me and punished the bad guys.” At that his shoulders finally untense, his sanity slowly coming back.

“Of course I was worried, I couldn’t bear the idea of anything happening to you.” Shanks says, letting out a held breath as his expression softens. He leans into your touch and closes his eyes for a moment before opening them to look at you. The brown of his eyes are replaced with red, his pupils dilated. You love it, the unsettling look in his eyes is so nice to see; even when they change back to brown. Like this, the crew in the background see their friendly captain as his yandere self, and his cheerful boyfriend who turned out not normal either. The captain can feel their gazes on him, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is you, you you you. The you that’s in front of him, touching him, loving him, the you that’s safe.

“Your eyes are creepy like this, y’know.” You say and place a kiss on his forehead, making him sigh in contentment.

“Creepy huh? That’s one way to describe em… Do you like it?” He asks, a bit insecure.

“And if I don’t? What’re you gonna do then?” You respond and Shanks’s heart sinks at the thought of you not liking anything about him. He loves you too much, he wants you to feel the same. He looks into your eyes, trying to gauge how serious you’re being. When he can't tell he speaks with hesitance.

“I’d.. change them.. I don’t want you to dislike any part about me.” Is his respnse. You hum, kissing his cheek.

“Hmm~ How would you change them?” You continue the question and Shanks tries to think through the chaos in his head, almost tempted to say he’d rip them out for you but managing to think more rationally.

“Colored contacts.. or try to appear less obsessive. Tone it down a bit.” He seems a little sullen talking about it, the idea that he would have to change himself for you is bumming him out; even if he would do it. You can tell he's unhappy, letting it go.

“That sounds like a hassle. It’s good I like them then!” You say and a weight is lifted off of his heart, your words always have so much effect on him. “I like everything about my crazy and cute boyfriend.”

“Good, because this crazy and cute boyfriend of yours loves you. A lot.” He speaks with a sigh, wrapping his arm around you to pull you into a tight hug.

“Mhm~ I love you too.” You rub his back as he buries his face into your shoulder and inhales, relishing in your scent.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. I love you. I love you.” He murmurs into your shoulder, muffled by your skin as you soothe him through his love confessions. He doesn’t even notice he’s getting blood on you. "You mean everything to me. You're the light in my darkness, the reason I keep going. I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you, I couldn't bear it. I love you more than anything in the world." His hand moves up to thread through your hair. "I love you so much. Never leave me." His voice is almost pleading at this point.

“Shh.. I’m never gonna leave you. You’re the only one for me, you’re my crazy and cute boyfriend. Look at me.” You tell him and he pulls back enough to look at you. “Hi honey~ I love you~” His expression falters, his heart warming. He’s still affected by what's happened but he’s here looking at you, and that makes everything feel better.

“I love you too.” Shanks kisses your palm. His voice is soft now, but still laced with a possessiveness that makes your own heart feel full “I’m looking at you too and I love you too” So happy, and just from being with you. You run your fingers through his red hair, scratching his scalp lightly, and his eyes close from bliss as he lets out a small content hum. When you use both hands a small shiver runs up his spine from your touch and attention. Can’t help it, too enamored with you.

××××××××××××××

“You’re so adorable.” You say and kiss him, feeling the way he melts into it. So pliable for you, and the slight jolt he gives when you roll your hips against his is satisfying to feel. ‘So reactive too’ you think to yourself as he lets out a small moan, trying to hold in another as you continue. It's to no avail, giving you the chance to slip your tongue into his mouth. Shanks hums, the both of you making out in front of the two corpses of the people Shanks killed for you. Oh and is it all for you, he doesn't even remember them right now. Your hands go to his hips and pick him up, walking a few feet away before laying him gently down onto the grass. He looks up at you, eyes foggy with lust and confusion.

“(Y/n)?” He asks and you wrap his legs around your waist, grinding your dick directly against him, causing him to curse with a moan.

“Sorry, my obsessive boyfriend was too sexy while protecting me.” You say as he pants underneath you, his face flushing. The crew, forgotten, slowly make their leave.

“You think I’m sexy? Even like this?” He asks you, not understanding how you can look at him with such caring lust when he just committed such a vile act. Even if it was for you, he didn’t need to make the deaths as gory as he did.

“Of course! My boyfriend is the cutest and sexiest in the whole world!” You say it as if it’s fact and it sends a shock of happiness and pleasure through Shanks’s body.

“In the world..” He mutters and you nod.

“Yup~” You’re pleased seeing him like this, and your hand goes to slide under his shirt, making him flinch. “The whole world~” Your hand slides up to his chest along with the fabric, showing his bare torso to you as his back arches slightly to follow your touch.

“B-Baby.” He tries to speak but it comes out as a whisper as you run your hand along his chest, stopping at one of his pecs to squeeze. “(Y/N)!” His back arches more and you lovingly circle a finger around his nipple, tapping it with the pad of your finger as he lets out soft gasps. “Fuck...” You’re teasing him, but he’s just too cute not to tease. Alas, you won’t keep him waiting, especially when the captain has been so good for you. You press the pad of your finger onto his nipple and he lets out a breath, your other hand moving to his chest as well as you grope and fondle both of his pecs. He loves it, you can feel it from the way he hardens against you and hear it from the grunts escaping his lips. His chest is nice, big, muscular, reminders of his strength along with the few scars that run along his body. You lean down and kiss one of them before flicking your tongue onto one of his nipples, earning a cuss from above. He grips onto your hair, blood coating your locks as you bite and suck his chest, moving from one pec to another; but never leaving one unattended with the help of your hands. You wonder for a moment if he could cum just from this, but you’ll leave that for another day, taking your mouth off of him with a lewd pop. The sound makes Shanks’s breath shaky. You sit up and look down at him.

‘So beautiful..’ You think to yourself when you see your boyfriend. Covered in the blood of townspeople he slaughtered in your name, eyes cloudy with lust, and shirt lifted up with perked up nipples. “My sexy honey is so sensitive, even when near the corpses of people he’s killed.” You grind against him and he grunts. “Do you care? Should I stop so I can take you somewhere else?” You ask him and Shanks struggles to form a coherent thought, mind clouded by you.

"No.” He starts, his voice shaky. “I don’t care about the bodies, I want you, I need you.” He responds, needy.

“Awweee~” You coo to him and lift his hips up, sliding his pants away enough to expose himself to you. You put your fingers to his mouth and he parts his lips to wet them. “You’re so good for me, my perfect boyfriend~” You praise and he lets out a small happy whimper, his heart racing. He always gets like this when you’re more dominant, sometimes it’s the only way to get him to calm down. Of course, that’s not why you’re doing it right now.

“Hahh.. hahh..” He pants and then gasps when you slip a finger inside him, something about his unstable emotions right now is making him more reactive. Maybe it’s the adrenaline or the relief of knowing you're safe, maybe both.

“I love you Shanks.” You say while putting another inside, relishing in how he squeezes around the digits. “Do you love me too?”

“Yes yes I love you I love you. Please, I need you.” He says, voice strained as you stretch him out.

“Are you sure? I get a little insecure sometimes.” You pull your fingers out and tug down your own bottoms, grabbing your dick to rub the tip around his entrance.

“Fuck.. I-” He’s interrupted by his own long whine as you press into him slowly, his head going foggy until you give him a smooch. “I love you, I love you more than anything, you’re my love- Ah~!” you start to move. “You’re everything to me can’t live without you I love you so much it hurts but feels so goOD~!” You lift his hips up to slam into his prostate, making his eyes roll back as he pants and groans.

“Good boy I love you too, you're doing so good for me~" You praise while bullying his prostate, Shanks’s mind going numb.

“I love you more than anything and everything I love you more than treasures or air or breathing or- ah~! or even myself~! I need you you’re my home and purpose my love and the blood flowing through my veins!” He’s happy, he’s happy you love him and he gets to say everything he wants to without worrying about your disgust. “You’re the reason I get up in the morning and the last thing I think of when I go to sleep-” He rambles as tears prick at his eyes from pleasure “m-my life and my purpose. I want to spend every second with you, I would give up everything for you. I love your voice and your laugh and your skin your hair your fingers and the way you feel i-inside me~!” His back arches, he’s close. “I can’t hold back any- ah~! longer!”

You kiss his neck, sucking marks into the skin. “It’s okay, you don’t have to hold back. Let everything out.” With that, he opens his mouth and lets out a loud keen as he cums.

“You’re all mine you’re m-mine! No- nngh~! one else’s mine mine~!” He rambles absentmindedly as you fuck him through his orgasm, repeating posessive words before you slam into him as much as you can and coat his insides. He whines, aftershocks continuing as your dick throbs inside of him with each burst. Once you've emptied you lean down and nuzzle his cheek affectionately before kissing him.

“You’re right. I’m yours and no one else’s. I’m never gonna leave you, because you’re my boyfriend and I love you.” Your words of confession make his heart feel full. He can’t think about anything other than you, that he’ll never let you go. His legs wrap around you and pull you into another kiss, happy. You’ll clean up in a bit, you’re still in public after all and the townspeople can’t be inside forever; but for you’ll indulge your cute and obsessive honey. Just because you love him so much.

There you have it. As for the Jealous reader x Shanks that's still gonna happen, the poll was just to choose which one I focused on first. I still do whatever by the way, I'm not gonna become smut focused or anything.

#one piece #shanks #anime only #anime #fanfiction #x reader #one piece x reader #one piece smut #shanks x reader #shanks x male reader #top male reader #bottom character #yandere #shanks gets railed nasty style #shanks x top male reader

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reysdriver · 2 years ago

Text

One Call | E.M.

Eddie calls you to pick him up from the police station — eddie x fem!hopper!reader fluff

warnings: eddie gets taken to the police station for peeing in the lake lol

words: 0.8k

“Alright, you know the drill. Someone’s gotta pick you up; you get one call.” Your dad told Eddie, even though they had been through this routine before. “Your uncle again?”

Eddie shook his head. “Nah, Wayne’s out of town. Fishing trip with his buddies. He told me not to bother him unless it’s an emergency.”

“This doesn’t qualify as important enough to call?” One of the officers piped up.

Eddie turned his neck to look at the cop. “Nope. This is just a normal Tuesday for me.”

Your dad held the phone out for your boyfriend. “Well, you got anyone else you can call?”

Eddie held back a mischievous grin, taking the phone. “I have one person I can call, but I don’t think you’re gonna be happy about it.”

✦✧✦✧✦

You rushed down to the station as quickly as possible, only making one stop along the way to grab a peace offering from Benny’s. Before going inside, you looked through the window to scan the tone of the building, making sure it was okay to go inside.

You opened the door and saw Eddie in handcuffs at one of the officers’ desks, twirling a pen with his fingers. Before he got the chance to look up at you, your dad came out from his office looking surprised to see you.

“Hey, kiddo, what are you doing here?” He asked.

You held out the take-out bag for him. “I, uh, I brought you lunch.”

“She’s got ulterior motives, Hopper!” Eddie piped up from across the room. You turned and shot him a glare, along with a whispered 'shut up'.

Your dad looked confused, now starting to understand the food you brought. "What's he talking about?"

There was an awkward silence as you tried to figure out how to word the reason you were really here.

"Well, Dad, I'm also here to pick Eddie up."

He dropped the takeout bag on the nearest desk and pointed an accusatory finger at Eddie, who sported a smirk.

“This punk?” Your dad asked, raising his voice. “You’re friends with this punk?”

Much to your dismay, Eddie spoke up again. “Dating, actually. But I can’t believe it either, Hopper, honestly.”

Even in the tensest of moments, your Eddie still finds a way to flatter you. You wanted to smile and thank him, but then you remembered he was just brought into the police station and hadn’t told you why, so you stopped yourself.

“Yeah, Dad, I am. And I know that you can’t stop me from bailing him out, so give me the form to sign.”

The officer whose desk Eddie was sitting at handed you a clipboard and a pen so you could sign and say that you would bail him out and keep him out of trouble for the time being. You flashed a cocky smile to your dad and started filling out the blanks.

Your dad rubbed his forehead like he was tired of everyone around him—which he was. “Don’t give her the clipboard until I’m done scolding her.” He mumbled.

“You know I brought him in for pissing in Lover’s Lake with his punk friends, right?”

You did not know that. But you weren’t going to let him win this round.

“Oh, like Lover’s Lake isn’t already full of piss!” You countered.

“Is that really the hill you want to die on?”

You forcefully handed the completed clipboard to the officer while rolling your eyes.

“I don’t want to die on any hill, I just want to pick up my boyfriend!”

Eddie gasped happily as the man took off his handcuffs. “She called me her boyfriend.”

You had to admit, it made you happy too. Even though you were mad at everyone in the room, your angry expression morphed into a smile. “I know, it felt good to say.” You then turned back to your dad. “I’m going now. If you have more to say to me, we can talk tonight.”

With that, you and your boyfriend started walking towards the door. He opened it for you and motioned for you to go first. You started to walk out, but shot a glare at Eddie as you walked by. He messed up and he knew it.

Before Eddie closed the door behind you, your dad shouted one last thing at you. “You know, kid, just ‘cause he’s out of trouble, doesn’t mean you are!”

You looked back at him through the doorway. “Oh, believe me, Dad, he’s not out of trouble yet!”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x hopper!reader #jim hopper #stranger things #stranger things fluff

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nightunite · 2 months ago

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Haha, it is I again!

So how does Konig feel about their lessons? Does he look forward to them? Are they just to be a good employer? I’m sure he’s glad to see reader being able to get along better with people right? And when reader is fluent enough to not need lessons how does he feel?

(I’m not expecting an answer to all of these, or any of these, pick and choose at your leisure)

Huehuehue

Agent L 🕵️‍♀️

You love stirring the pot don't you? Naughty Wackus Bonkus (keep doing it, it gives me something to look forward to) Here's another attempt at Konig. I expected it to come out somewhat muddled, because to be honest neither he nor I know how to process his widdle feewings:

Konig is...conflicted. He's never been a man too in touch with his emotions, preferring to simply retreat to the outdoors when things became too much. Out between the trees and along the streams, he could feel less confined and the emotional slurry at rest, steadily sifted through until the muddied mixture dissipated into nothing and he could return inside where whatever caused them was settled. Unfortunately, he couldn't do so this time around, for the problem in this instance was of his own making, and rooted quite firmly in the barony. With a heavy sigh he closes the book he was pretending to read, instead looking out onto the small greenhouse. Inside he could make out several bodies, his maids who had taken to enjoying the warmth, as well as the company of the newest maid. They laid claim to the greenhouse for an hour or so when they could between tasks, insisting on teaching her further than just the times she and Konig arranged. His chest feels odd at the reminder, the emotions making him feel not-quite ill but certainly not well. He's grateful in a way, to have others teaching her their language. He knows he's not the most verbose in either tongue, direct and oftentimes blunt to avoid misunderstandings and awkward slip-ups in conversation. He'd much rather go to war and get shot again than put his foot in his mouth and insult someone at court in view of everyone. Ah, just the thought of the eyes and whispers heats his skin, turns him red and prickly and sets his leg bouncing in anxiety.

So yes, it's good her peers assist her in learning the twists and turns and at the same time it...not irritates him, but leaves him restless. No employer wants his staff at odds, so these meetings are good, especially when he hears them chattering as they fold laundry or wipe down the dining room. He doesn't have an ear for most gossip, he leaves that to Annika and Felix (though he won't admit to it), but if it gives them something to bond over then he'll let the halls fill with the most recent story of whose pants had to be let out at the tailor's, or whose dress was clearly ill-conceived. He does wish they would stop having these chats so late at night though, they need their sleep after all. Especially Hirscht, given her condition...

"My lord, I have something I must confess. You see, I am...with child." She had admitted roughly a week ago, hands wringing into her dress as she cowered before him like a child before a stern parent. It was reminiscent of their first meeting a little over a month ago (and how novel is that, how much she seems to bloom in such a short time in his presence?) when she seemed convinced he would send her away without a second glance. "I assure you, my condition will not hinder my work! I will continue to uphold the standards placed upon me when I was employed-" His ears didn't register the remainder of her words, brain refusing to translate the rapidly spoken English. He was distressed at how quickly she curled into herself, worried that she viewed him as a threat to her safety like what (or more likely who) she ran from in the first place. "I understand that this could cause complications down the line, and I apologize-" "Du arbeitest zu viel." "Beg pardon?" "Du arbeitest zu viel. Always beregen, huschen and herumhüpfen around, cleaning as if the Teufel is after you. You should have said something sooner, hirscht. You must be more careful." He crossed his arms, looking down at her as he lightly chastised her. "You're not mad?" She asked him, eyes watery in a way that made him fearful she would burst into tears. Lieber Gott, how he hated when women cried near him, he never knew what to do. "Nein, not at you for being a mother soon. That is not an issue, you have your place here. But you should have said something sooner, you shouldn't be running yourself ragged. You are fragile now, ja?" "Not entirely, I can still work, my lord! I'm not too far along for concern, per the doctor!" She was frantic, stepping closer to him despite him assuring her she wouldn't be cast out into the cold. Did she think him a liar? Had he not proved himself a fair employer? "You need your rest-" "I need to do my share-" She kept trying to plead her case to him, and he felt his brows furrow at her stubbornness. "What are you afraid of? I am not firing you." He sighed through his nose. People were always so complicated, like trying to pry open a clam without breaking the shell. "I don't want to be a burden on the others." She sniffed, wiping at her face with her sleeve. "I-the others, they are nett to me? I don't want them to have to do my work." In a smaller tone, just barely audible, she whispered, "I don't want them to hate me." He resisted the sudden urge to coo at her, his little hirscht, the earnest fondness she had for his workers. It startled him, the sudden affection exploding in his chest like a dandelion puff. Instead, he cleared his throat, loosening his stance. "They will not hate you. You have shown much effort here. You are not the first to have a baby here. Be prepared to have no peace though. Some of them wanted to be midwives." The slight laugh he got from her eased the strings pulled taut around his heart, shoulders dropping tension. "Thank you, sir." Konig blinks, returning to the present as he sees his maids, Emily and Joanna, accompanying her out of the greenhouse back into the barony proper. Joanna carried the tea set they must have snuck from the kitchen, while the others led the way. It brought a smile to his face, truly. He loves seeing those he is responsible for content. However... He can't help the sourness that wells up like morning dew in him when he is reminded that he is not the only one who holds his newest maid's attention. Reluctant to admit it, he is fond of their time together, of having someone who looks at him beyond being a noble, a man of power even if he refuses to wield it. Informal lessons between the two in which he could simply speak to another person, the fear of crossing an unseen boundary like a tripwire forgotten, a chance to simply have a conversation with someone. A hope not given voice of a potential friend in this foreign and frigid land, something he craved more than he expected.

How was he to build on this tentative thing in a way that wasn't imposing upon her without the lessons? To show he sought her time and company though not in the way most men of his station would? No matter how few times they had spoken, it left him yearning for more. For the first time in years, he wants to speak with someone, to listen and respond in kind, beyond the required civility. These thoughts, these feelings, threatening to choke him like kudzu around the oak, ensnaring him entirely. With a groan, he shoves his hands under his shroud, dragging them down his face. He would have to sell his soul and ask Annika for advice. May he never know peace again.

@beloveds-embrace Imma just start tagging you Translations: Du arbeitest zu viel - You work too much beregen, huschen and herumhüpfen - running and scurrying and hopping around nett - nice Lieber Gott - Dear God hirscht - Deer

#baron konig au

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shineonyoucrazyyandere · 1 year ago

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Could I just like make a request about the jojos having a darling who does literally everything to stay away. Like they come up with the dumbest excuses or do dumb stuff just to stay away

woot woot, this’ll be my first thing with Jodio hopefully I can write him correctly before doing headcanons. Sort of more of a reaction thingy but hope it satisfies, since I’m trying to get back into a groove of things.

Jonathan

His heart flutters hearing you stumble on excuses, he can tell you’re lying but he doesn’t mention this. Though he finds it in your best interest to have someone looking out for you, in the end. Whatever little thing you busy yourself with, he finds a way to come around. Sometimes it just happens to align with his father’s request to fetch something. Just maybe he twists things around to something you like, even if it only keeps you around for a few extra seconds.

Joseph

The biggest trickster there is, it’s near impossible to try and get out of anything with Joseph. “Mmm, you already used that one” He gives you a quick wink. He knows where you hang out mostly, and can easily tell if you’re not the “ruffian” type. If you’re a bit snarky yourself, he does his best to make you slip up. Or if he’s really determined waste enough time that you don’t have to bother with that other “task” you had to do.

Jotaro

Blunt. To put it lightly, Yare Yare leaves his lips as soon as you stumble through an excuse. He knows how efficiently you may or may not get things done. Anything you’re usually not fond of makes him raise an eyebrow (immediate suspicion if it’s possibly just to impress some other person). It almost feels like an interrogation when he asks the sudden interest in whatever you spilled out. Forget trying to do anything dumb, fib or otherwise he’s not letting you do it. Even if you do manage to slip off and go out on your own, Jotaro is around somewhere.

Josuke

Similar to Joseph he’s pretty on top of silly excuses, because he’s probably made up a thing or two himself. The best course of action for him is making up an excuse himself to get into whatever you made up on the fly. If you ask, he tells you he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. Even if it’s obvious he’s lying to you, he makes it nigh impossible to leave “hey that’s what you said you were doing”.

Giorno

He definitely knows the ins and outs about you, so lying won’t likely get you very far. Besides every little excuse you do make, he seems to always have a counter for. It’s almost freaky, if you don’t know how much Giorno negotiates. Though there’s times he let’s you go on the basis of a flimsy lie. Rest assured though something goes missing and it always leads back to him. Anything out of the ordinary for you is promptly taken care of, “That’s a rather interesting way to try to keep away from me” He’d tell you in a friendly tone.

Jolyne

Like her father she can be pretty blunt herself, even insists it’s not a great idea to stray too far. The little excuses you make are intriguing to her, but she counters with her own plans. Sometimes she’ll get you lipstick and see if you’ll wear it out later, depending on what you told her you were supposedly doing that day. Little runarounds with you keep her on her toes making sure you don’t run off. Simple things like getting you to spend extra time with her, with her own little excuses. Eventually there might be a time your handcuffed to her bed, for a day or two. “Don’t you ever get tired of making up stuff? It’d just be easier being here with me you know, I’ve got your back”

Johnny

He’s rather scary when you make up something on the fly to avoid him. His blue eyes bore into your soul, unless he uses spin there’s usually nothing much he can do. As he improves however, the space between the two of you slowly shrinks. Johnny makes it certain one way or another your attention is drawn back to himself. He notes everything you do, so if you don’t “have” something he either has an extra or absolutely knows you have an item. Similar likely happens with your horses habits. If he’s determined he manages to pin you under him. He merely mumbles “Stay” at a little too close for comfort distance.

Josuke (Part 8)

He’s curious at some of the excuses you make here and there. Or hearing about things you’d usually wouldn’t do. He’s not dumb obviously, so he asks if there’s a reason you’re avoiding him. The possible roundabout answers you give, don’t really satisfy. It is cute you’re nervous about it though. He may just simply ignore some of the things you tell him to try and keep your distance. Josuke wants to see you anyway, if he can’t he might try and call just to test if you’re at a certain place. “There’s nothing that can convince me to keep away” He’d tell you at one point or another.

Jodio

“Li~ar, liar~” At least this is what happens when you come up with something on the fly. Admittedly he’s busy with trying to get rich, but since he likes you on a level enough to significantly care. The things you tell him don’t quite match up. It’s not really hard to tell you’re avoiding him, he might even put that out bluntly. He’ll show up randomly when you least expect it, he might swipe something from a friend or delay a meetup somehow. “I don’t really care about whoever else you hang out with ya’ kno~w, it only should be a me and you thing”.

“Just don’t get used to thinking you can avoid me all the time”

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lucyrose191 · 1 year ago

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hi!! can i request something with Kimi or Mark Webber x driver reader?

SILENT ADMIRATION| K.RÄIKKÖNEN

Author’s note; I didn’t know if you wanted a specific scenario or if you were fine with me choosing so I wrote this and if you want anything specific feel free to send a request!

Pairing; Kimi Raikkonen x fem!Driver!Reader

Summary; Kimi’s got some deep feelings for the reader but plans to do what he does best, keep silent. Until, Sebastian manages to persuade him that maybe melting his icy exterior might work in his favour for once.

Warnings; Implied age gap but not specifically mentioned.

F1 Master List , Part 2

Y/N L/N. 3 time world champion and first female formula one driver; a few years ago she had shown up out of nowhere and taken everyone by surprise as the new RedBull racing driver.

There were a lot of similarities between her and her teammate, Max Verstappen. They weren’t here to mess around, they were here to win and that’s exactly what they were doing together.

It was clear that she had tunnel vision, Y/N didn’t spend a lot of time with the other drivers, albeit she was very friendly and polite to them whenever they were together, she was laser focused on her career and had no time for distractions.

Hence, there had been absolutely no sign of a possible lover on the scene whilst she had been on the formula one track and she left no room for speculation either, repeating the same words constantly to the nosey reporters and journalists.

My private life is none of your business, you’re here to ask me about racing.

I’m here to race, not to find a husband.

Her attitude towards the press reminded Kimi a lot of himself, their distaste was matched and it was always fun to watch the frustration on the journalists face due to the lack of answers they were receiving when both Y/N and Kimi where in the same press conference.

Right now, Kimi was standing at the entrance of the Ferrari garage, leaning against the wall as he looked out into the pits. He was simply watching the rustle and bustle of the Friday morning before a free practice session but found that his eyes kept straying towards the woman stood just a garage away.

Wrapped up in a large RedBull raincoat to protect herself from the cold, Y/N was stood with her race engineer, as she spoke her hands were raised into the air making all sorts of gestures to back up her words. He found that it was a common habit of hers and it always conflicted him when he felt a tugging at the corner of his lips whenever he saw her doing it.

Kimi wasn’t against feeling things, he just wasn’t good at it, they were out of his comfort zone. The feeling in his chest that he felt when he saw her wasn’t bad and he didn’t not like it, he just didn’t know how to deal with it or if he should deal with it.

It wasn’t often that Kimi thought about his future, he preferred to just tackle things as they came rather than trailing after things that were only possibilities.

He wasn’t a guy that sought after love, he didn’t crave it but he certainly wasn’t opposed to it. He had been married before and well, it wasn’t what everyone made it out to be but could that just be because it wasn’t with the right person?

Kimi scoffed at his own thoughts, how did he get from Y/N to thinking about love and marriage. What he felt for her wasn’t love, it was simply an admiration. A silent admiration that would be kept that way, silent.

"Are you going to keep staring at the poor woman or are you going to ask her out?"

Kimi turned his head to the side, coming face to face with a smiling Sebastian Vettel, whose eyes were filled with mirth and amusement.

"What?"

Sebastian wasn’t put off by the bluntness in the Finn’s voice, he never had been, instead he embraced it and nodded towards Y/N’s direction. "Y/N, you fancy her right?"

"Don’t be stupid." Kimi replied, voice gruff as he looked away from Sebastian’s burning gaze, turning back to the paddocks, though he made sure his eyes didn’t stray towards Y/N’s direction, not wanting to give Sebastian the satisfaction.

"You’re being stupid." Sebastian rolled his eyes, "It’s very clear you like her, stop standing here staring at her and go and tell her."

Instead of responding, Kimi simply continued staring out of the entrance of the garage causing Sebastian to sigh. "Why won’t you?"

It was silent for a solid minute and when Sebastian thought that he wouldn’t be getting any answers from Kimi today, the man spoke up. "She’s a good driver, she’s got a successful career ahead of her, mine’s close to finishing. She doesn’t need or want distractions, she’s said it plenty of times."

It was a reasonable excuse, there were no lies in his words but there was something deep inside Sebastian that needed him to play Cupid between the pair. Kimi and Y/N would be one of the most bizarre and unexpected pairs but he had a feeling it would work so well.

"The right person would be no distraction, it doesn’t matter what she’s said before. People change and so do their opinions. Think about it this way, there’s more of a chance of her saying yes if she knows you like her than if you don’t tell her."

"What would she want with a divorced man like me? Everyone thinks I’m a heartless arsehole."

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "No one cares that you’re divorced and what do you think people think about her? Have you heard the things she’s said to the press?"

Kimi smirked, of course he had and shockingly her words had made him laugh. She was a firecracker of a driver.

"Just give it a try, i think she’d be good for you." Sebastian patted his shoulder before walking away.

Kimi didn’t really register his teammate leaving, his eyes focused on Y/N’s figure just a couple metres away.

That Sunday, Y/N had qualified and finished on pole, leading the entire race by a large gap between her and her teammate, sharing the top three with Max in second and Kimi in third.

She stood on top of her car and waved at the crowd briefly before jumping down, she made her way to Max and congratulated him with a pat on the back before making her way over to Kimi who was still in his car, probably purposefully taking his time to try and prolong the post-race interview.

She would’ve done the same if she wasn’t too eager to go home.

"You good?" She asked, leaning her body over the halo of his Ferrari, she was smiling at him underneath her helmet, even though he couldn’t see.

Kimi nodded, removing his steering wheel, setting it onto the front of his car. Y/N stepped back so he could pull himself out. "You did good," he told her when he landed two feet onto the ground.

"Thanks, I heard you had a small battle with Max out there." Y/N reached up and began unbuckling her helmet, Kimi following her lead and doing the same.

"It was okay," he shrugged.

His response wasn’t anything other than what she was expecting, it was short and straight to the point but Y/N didn’t take it to heart like most would, in fact she actually preferred it. She liked that he was always clear and confident in his words and didn’t waste time with unnecessary explanations or apprehensions about other’s feelings.

Besides, there was no need to fill the space with uninteresting conversation to be able to enjoy a person’s company.

The three podium achievers got weighed before they were lead to the cool down room where they had water waiting for them and the screen that showed the race highlights.

Being able to share the podium with the woman that was all bright smiles as she was soaked in champagne was more enjoyable that Kimi ever thought it would be.

Seeing the utter happiness in her eyes caused a light curve to form at his lips, a greater reaction than gaining third had achieved, the smallest smile of his didn’t even dim as she emptied an entire bottle of champagne over his head, instead it caused an entire opposite reaction as the words spewed out of his mouth before he had even had time to realise he had spoken.

"Do you want to get a drink with me?"

Y/N had almost dropped her champagne bottle in surprise at his words but her smile seemed to grow even wider as she nodded at him, she was clearly confident in her response but her eyes had glanced down to the ground shyly.

"Not out though, yours or my hotel room?" She bravely suggested, not feeling going out but also taking the opportunity to spend some time one on one.

Kimi glanced away from her for a moment over the edge of the balcony before quickly turning his eyes back when he saw Sebastian who looked like he was seconds away from bursting with excitement as he looked at the pair.

"Mine?" He shrugged.

"I’ll see you there, Iceman." Y/N smirked and walked past him off the podium, patting his shoulder as she did so.

She didn’t see the real smile that had shown on Kimi’s face that day and she didn’t hear Sebastian’s shouting amongst the crowd of fans, the man cheering for an entirely different reason than everyone else was.

#kimi raikkonen x reader #kimi raikkonen x you #kimi raikkonen #formula one x reader #kr7 #formula one x you #formula 1 #formula one #motorsport #fluff

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mindful-of-ideas · 2 months ago

Text

TW: mention of alcohol, reader gets black out drunk.

A/N: Based on this request here by anon. Sooooooo… it’s been a while since I watched Peaky Blinders so if it doesn’t make sense timeline wise, I’m sorry. Also it’s been a while in general, sorry to have vanished without a word. Life got busy. Also I never realised the age gap between Tommy and Ada was thaaaaat big, so I kind of worked my way around it. Hopefully you still like it.

“Come on,” you said whining, “it’s one night, I think I’ll manage!”

“I just don’t want anything to happen to my little girl,” Polly said almost whispering.

You sat down by her side on the couch and rested your head on her lap.

“I promise I’ll be careful, I’ll make sure all the doors are locked and go to bed early.”

Gently, she brushed your hair with her fingers.

“You promise? With all of the arrests lately and… “

There was a long silence. Last week, they had arrested a bunch of members of the Peaky Blinders, but some coppers went too far. They had humiliated their wives, beating them in front of their children when they could, throwing them in the streets barely clothed otherwise, just in hope they knew something about their husbands whereabouts. They almost never did.

“I promise. You even could have one of the boys come around to check on me,” you added.

You hated being checked on, and she knew that. But you wanted her to have an actual relaxing weekend, it took you weeks to convince her to take a break, and mostly you wanted to have a fun weekend out.

“Alright. But you open the door for no one else, and if anything happens…”

“I keep my mouth shut until you or Tommy come and get me out, I know.”

“And he’s probably the one I’ll send to come and check on you,” she added.

You raised an eyebrow at her. You had only suggested it to ease her mind. You never believed she would actually send one of the boys to look after you like you were some little child.

“If,” she corrected herself, “I were to send someone, I would send Thomas. But I trust you.”

She kissed your forehead gently.

But deep down you knew you had to think of a backup plan in case Tommy did actually show up. Though, you wouldn’t complain too much. He too was a busy man and you couldn’t remember the last time he took a break, or the last time you even saw him for that matter.

It probably was well over two months ago, and well, the whole night was kind of a blur, a mix of alcohol and too much fun. Yet you could remember everything that led to that one night.

Polly had taken you in when you were barely five years old. Your mother, a friend of hers, had become suddenly ill, and your father, in true manlike fashion, had fled to London like a thief in the middle of the night. It didn’t take much convincing for Polly to take you in. She always told you she could never refuse your mom anything, on her dying bed more than ever. You never felt like you were a burden to Polly either. If anything, you were her blessing. This was how you had ended up growing alongside the infamous Shelby family.

Ada was your best friend, probably your only real friend too. You were thick as thieves. Polly wasn’t too fond of your friendship however. She seemed to always come up with excuses when Ada was about to get herself, and you, into real trouble, trying to keep you safe. Often, she would ask for your help around the house, mostly with Finn, who was still so young. How could you say no, you loved Finn like a brother.

You didn’t care much for the older boys, John was nice to you, beating up your bullies, but Arthur always seemed too old for you to even consider getting closer to him. He would make an effort to be nice to you, probably out of respect for Polly, but to say you considered him like a brother would be wrong, false.

Then, there was Tommy. The dark and mysterious Thomas Shelby. Has he always been like this? No, that couldn’t be possible. You had a clear picture of him crying at his mother’s funeral, birthday cards retelling shared laughters and a curved scar on your collarbone, witness to great adventures. You knew a Tommy no one else knew. Yet these memories, as he got older, turned into echoes of conversation late at night between him and Polly, where he sounded like his heart had been ripped out of his chest, whispers about girls trying to take a bite out of him and ripples of tears you couldn’t see anymore. That’s when he became the mysterious Thomas Shelby and that’s when your indocile naïve teenage heart began aching for him. But when he never stopped caring for you, you had to realise that this crush couldn’t last.

Yet he was not acting dark and mysterious that night, which was something unusual. The thought that the old Tommy could be back left your heart racing. Yet you were certain you had gotten over your crush, it had been too long to still hold on to silly hope. Now, however, the embarrassment of a childlike crush wasn’t there. The feeling was different, sharper. Ada caught you staring at him.

“Come on,” she had said, “you can go and bother him, I’ll cover for you if he gets pissed, say you were drunk or something.”

She said those words as if she knew something you didn’t. It didn’t matter though. She was right, you were drunk, and well, drunk-you wanted to go say hi to Tommy. Drunk you felt like a strong independent woman, who knew better than to be intimidated by handsome boys. You had dated handsome boys, this was child’s play. Though Thomas was a man. You had gotten up clumsily and made your way to the bar. Slurring your words just a little, you managed to start a conversation. You don’t remember much of what was said. Niceties mostly, hopefully. Maybe something about the good old days, when everything new felt like a warm and bright sun shower. Still, you did remember his eyes. How they were piercingly cold when you had started talking, yet by the end of the night they had a soft coldness to them that felt welcoming. This and his laugh. Somehow you had made him laugh and even today, his crystal clear laugh still echoed in your head.

You had awoken up the next day with a massive headache. How you made it back home was still a mystery. You remembered an Ada-like shadow leaving the pub around an early midnight and drinks still getting poured out for you. Tommy was buying, why would you have left then?

•••

There was a faint knock on the door. Carefully, you got up and cracked the door open. It was still early in the night and you started worrying that this wasn’t one of the Shelby boys behind the door.

“Tommy? What are you…”

“Polly asked,” he answered.

“She said IF,” you said, whining.

“And decided she was going to,” he said sternly, “And Polly was really clear that you weren’t to get into trouble. If I had come by later, could you promise you wouldn’t have been out?”

“No,” you thought. He was right. You let the door swing open more. You had planned on going out but had not started getting ready yet. You were still in well-worn clothes, nothing unfamiliar to Tommy.

“I’m not a kid anymore, I can take care of myself just fine. I should be able to go out if I want to.”

“I know…”

“So you’ll let me go, great! Now please get out so I can get ready.”

But he stood in the doorway, not moving.

“Was there anything else?” you asked after some time.

“I really want to kiss you right now.”

“You… what…” you said blushing, “Tommy I look like shit right now. I… I haven’t…”

“I don’t care.”

He took a step towards you, pushed the door aside and grasped your face in his hands. Gently, you pried yourself away from him. His face was still close to yours. His blue eyes looking intensely at you, you could feel his gaze examining every inch of your face. Coldness washed over you, awakening all of your senses. You were suddenly hyperaware of your surroundings and you couldn’t look at him anymore. You had to look at the door. The wide-open door. What if someone saw you? What if the cops were to walk down the street right this instant?

“The door,” you finally whispered.

Grabbing you by the waist, he spun you around and pushed you against the door, closing it at the same time.

“What about the door?” he asked.

His other hand above your head, you felt small, trapped between him and the door. You bit your lip and started giggling.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you quickly said, “it’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I know you… this just exactly how I’d imagine the dark and mysterious Thomas Shelby to act, yet it feels so strange.”

“Dark and mysterious,” he said, feigning surprise.

“You know…” you started, lowering your gaze. If he could just move back a little bit, you would feel so much more confident. “How everyone talks about you. And how I suddenly got more books when you moved out…”

“And how somehow Ada’s destructive plans always fell through?” he suggested.

“Wh-… you…”

“Yeah, me.” He said, lifting your chin gently to face him again. “Can I?” he asked in a whisper, pulling your face closer to his.

You nodded timidly. What was going on with you. This was Tommy, not some fucking stranger at the bar.

“Say it,” he teased.

“Yes.”

He kissed you, passionately. Had his hand not moved from your chin to be tangled in your hair, you would’ve bashed your head against the door.

He kissed you. And kissed you again.

You closed your eyes as he trailed kisses down your neck, all the way to your collarbone. He lingered on your scar when you shot your eyes open, pushing him back.

“What, what is it?” he asked, genuinely concerned.

“Since when?”

“What?” He tried to lift your chin up but you swatted his hand away.

“Since when… do you have feelings… for me?” you managed to blurt out.

“You always…” he started but you cut him short.

“No!” you said, pushing him back. “I mean it, since when!”

“I don’t get what’s wrong? Y/N, just calm down.”

“What’s wrong?”

Thousands of things were wrong and they hit you all at once. Right there, right then, at the worst possible moment.

“What’s wrong?” you asked again. “What’s wrong is every single men who looked at me like I was some piece of meat every time I walked into a bar since I turned 18! What’s wrong is these same men doing the same thing year after year after year and to girls younger and younger and younger than me! If you said you loved me since forever, I would feel so disgusted with myself and I… and I…”

You were hyperventilating at that point. You didn’t know why and how these thoughts just suddenly came to you. Maybe it was because this was just too much to handle, maybe it was because you’ve only dated boys, man-children, before.

“Hey, hey, just breathe, okay,” he said, gently stroking your hair away from your face with both his hands.

“Since when?” you asked one last time between sobs.

“Since the last time I saw you, something… changed,” he finally answered.

Slowly, you managed to silence your breathing and slow down your sobs.

“But, you always were special, Y/N,” he said. “Things slowly fell into place, but I assure you, I never and would never consider you as anything else than my equal, if not more.”

Blushing deeply, you tried to turn away, but he forced you to look at him.

“But you however. You’ve had a crush on me since way before.”

“I got over it,” you said defensively even though it was true. If the spark was rekindled that one night, it had morphed from a strinking lightning bolt into a raging wildfire. “But that night… yeah, something changed.”

“So, can we keep going?”

“I think we should rather start over. I think I missed a few of my cues.”

“Oh yeah,” he said, leaning back against the door, tilting your chin with the other hand. “Like what?”

“Come and find out.”

His face inched closer to yours.

“Come on, beautiful, just tell me.”

Before you could answer, he was kissing your lips again. But as quickly as he had started, he broke the kiss. You grabbed the lower part of his shirt, gently pulling him towards you.

“I forgot to kiss you back,” you whispered before kissing him for the first time.

#mindful-of-ideas #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby #don't know when this will go out #don't know why i decided on a comeback literally a week from finals #this might be just a one time thing #the muse struck me with inspiration and this had to get out

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