#little blue dres

[kirstysdreams]

Larissa

[paperglader]

I know it’s been months but the moment where alicent fucking steps forwards and says “come with me” to rhaenyra like she’s ready to RISK IT ALL, and then rhaenyra stares at her like they’re fifteen once more and so stupidly in love . yeah, still not over that.

[therealcocoshady]

Hey coco I seen your latest story and I was wondering if you could do the complete opposite where reader and Marshall are in a long term relationship and they have sex and he’s in a rush and he doesn’t clean reader up at all and kinda leaves really quickly and reader feels like a hoe and gets in her feels about it .

A/N : thank you so much for your request ! I really liked the idea so I came up with a little something. I hope you enjoy it ☺️💕. Please don’t mind the title. I’m exhausted and I wrote the first thing that comes to mind 🤣.

The Birkin Diplomacy

CW : Eminem being a really sucky boyfriend and a cocky bastard 😅 ; reconciliation

Marshall leaned against the headboard, the low hum of the city filtering through the slightly cracked window of your bedroom. The sheets were tangled around your legs, still heavy with the warmth of your embrace. He pulled a hand through his messy hair, damp from sweat, as he exhaled. For a moment, he seemed present—his gaze fixed on you in the dim light, the edges of his sharp features softened by exhaustion. You studied him, your head resting on his chest. You couldn’t help but think there was something mesmerizing about your man. You always found him fascinating, but orgasm always gave him a nice glow. In the dim light of your room, he seemed even more ethereal. If it weren’t for his heartbeat, steady and strong, you could have sworn he wasn’t really. You basked in this delicious feeling for a while, catching your breath, enjoying the comforting feeling of his skin against yours. But then, right as you were about to fall asleep, he pulled away. 

« Gotta go, » he mumbled before getting up. « What? » you asked, propping yourself up on an elbow, in a voice edged with disbelief. He simply shrugged before answering, not exactly apologetic. « Late-night session. Dre’s in town. Can’t leave him hanging » he explained as he slid out of bed. How movements were quick, almost mechanical; as he started to put his clothes on. You frowned and watched as he moved around the room. You body was still aching from him, from your connection. You had given yourself to him completely, as you had always done and yet… He was leaving. You couldn’t help but feel your heart break a little. « Marshall… Can’t it wait? » you asked, your voice breaking slightly. « I feels like I barely see you, these days ». 

He sighed and looked at you. For a moment, it seemed like his icy blue eyes were softening. But then his shoulders sagged, and the weight of his responsibilities seemed to settle on him again. « You know how it is, babe. I’ve got work to do. We’re close to finishing the album ». And just like that, he was gone—out the door with a rushed kiss on your forehead, leaving you alone in your bed, body still marked by his touch. You stared at the ceiling, your chest tightening as frustration and hurt bubbled up inside you. Nearly two years of being babe. His girlfriend. His source of comfort and support. Almost two years of sticking with him through thick and thin. Two years of him calling you his princess, his queen… And now, he had you feeling like a cheap whore, your cozy bedroom reduced to a vulgar brothel. He didn’t even help you clean up. Yet, somehow, it was the fancy bracelet he had gifted you a couple of days ago that had you feeling dirty. When you had opened the box, you had been mesmerized by the way the diamonds caught the light but now, it felt like a bauble, a weak attempt at making up for the attention he didn’t give you. And if he thought you were one of these hoes that would turn a blind eye to their bed being empty as long as they had tiny things to look at, he was dead wrong. This, you were about to remind him of. 

The idea came to you as a sharp, defiant spark. Sitting up, you wrapped yourself in the sheet, your resolve growing stronger with each step toward the closet. Marshall had showered you with lavish gifts over the course of your relationship—designer handbags, sparkling jewelry, even a pair of limited-edition sneakers he’d bragged about snagging before anyone else. You gathered them one by one, piling them into an empty box from a recent delivery. Each item carried a memory, a moment when you’d thought you were his priority, his anchor. Now, they felt hollow, like symbols of a love that had become one-sided. Next, you opened the drawer where you kept a spare key to his house. Your fingers trembled as you placed it on top of the pile. You’d carried that key everywhere, a token of trust and commitment. Now, it felt heavy with the weight of his neglect. And for all you cared, he could give it to someone else. Someone who would be willing to put up with the disrespect. But that someone wouldn’t be you. You had many flaws, but being unaware of your worth certainly wasn’t one of them. The final touch was a deliberate act of rebellion. Pulling out your phone, you searched for the number of a high-end escort service you’d once overheard a friend joking about. You scribbled it down on a sticky note in bold, dark letters, then stuck it to the top of the box. « Here » you mumbled. « Now you can save on presents and have a cheap hoe ». 

The next morning, the courier arrived promptly. You gave the box one last glance, your heart thudding in your chest. A small part of you hesitated—did you really want to do this? But the memory of his hurried departure, of the way he’d made you feel so disposable, spurred you forward. « Delivery for Marshall Mathers, » you said, your voice steady as you handed it over.

Later that day, Marshall was at his studio, downing what seemed to be his hundredth can of Redbull, trying to stay awake. Dre had left the studio shortly before, and he was trying to go over the track they had recorded. He groaned as the receptionist came to him and handed him a package addressed to him. « Who’s it from? » he asked, his brows furrowed. She simply shrugged, mumbling something about a courrier. He sat the box on his desk and opened it slowly, his confusion growing with each item he uncovered. The bracelet, the earrings, the sneakers, the bags… All these were presents he had gifted you. His breath caught when he saw the key, glinting under the soft light of his studio office. But it was the sticky note that stopped him. A phone number. Of course, he didn’t waste any time and immediately took out his phone to dial it. 

His heart pounded as he hit the call button, curiosity and dread warring within him. The line rang once. Twice. « Hello, » a smooth, almost rehearsed voice answered on the other end. « You’ve reached Luxe Companions, Detroit’s premier escort service. How can I help you today? » He froze. « Wait—what? » he stammered, his voice pitching higher than usual. « This is Luxe Companions, » the voice repeated, professional and patient. « Would you like to make a booking? » Marshall’s mouth went dry as realization hit him like a freight train. His eyes widened, and his grip on the phone tightened. No. No way.  « Uh… nah, » he muttered, struggling to form coherent words. « I think I… uh… I think I got the wrong number. » There was a brief pause on the other end, as if the operator was used to this sort of reaction. « Very well, sir. If you change your mind, feel free to call back. » Marshall ended the call abruptly, dropping his phone onto the desk as though it had burned him. His jaw hung open as he stared at the offending sticky note, now armed with a whole new layer of meaning.

« She didn’t, » he said aloud, shaking his head in disbelief. « She wouldn’t. » But you absolutely had.

He ran a hand through his hair, pacing the length of the office. His mind spun in a chaotic loop: you were pissed, and this was your way of making sure he knew it. The message was loud and clear now—if you don’t make time for me, someone else will. The audacity of it stung, but so did the truth behind it. He collapsed into a chair, still holding the note as if it might give him more answers. Less than an hour later, Marshall was standing outside of your door, the sticky note still crumpled in his fist. Maybe it was a side-effect of the exhaustion or the energy drink, but his lips were twitching with a mix of frustration and amusement as he knocked. He had to admit there was something about the audacity, the sheer, unfiltered nerve of your move. He wasn’t sure whether he was mad, impressed or both. 

The door opened just wide enough for you to peek out. Your eyes locked on him, cold and unyielding.  « What do you want, Marshall? » you asked, your voice clipped.  « Well, » he said, leaning casually against the doorframe, « I came to return this. » He held up the note. « Thought maybe you’d accidentally sent me the number to a… uh… high-end hospitality service. »  Your eyes narrowed, your poker face slipping just enough to show a hint of satisfaction. « Accidentally? No. That was very much intentional ».  He let out a chuckle and shook his head. « I figured. You really went there, huh? ». 

You pushed the door open a little more, standing tall with your arms crossed. « You left me in bed like I was nothing. No cuddling. No conversation. Just ‘wham, bam, thanks, ma’am,’ and out the door. » Your voice was calm but laced with venom.  He winced, raising his hands in surrender. « Okay, I get it. I was a jerk. A giant, oblivious, selfish jerk. But damn, sending me to call an escort service? That’s cold, Y/N. »  You couldn’t help but scoff at his audacity. « Was it, now ?! » you shot back, your tone sharp. « I thought it was rather creative ». 

Marshall bit back a grin, trying to stay serious. « Alright, look, » he said, stepping closer. « I know I screwed up. I know I’ve been all over the place, and I’ve been taking you for granted. That’s on me. But come on, babe. You really think I’d go through with calling someone else? ». You leaned against the doorframe, studying him. « I don’t know, Marshall. You’ve been treating me like an afterthought lately. I had to remind you I’m not some cheap hoe. »  At that, his lips curved into a slow smirk. « Cheap? Nah. You’re way too high-maintenance for that. »   Your eyes narrowed, but he pressed on before you could retort.  « Not to be that guy, but… Birkin bags aren’t exactly cheap »  He gestured to your living room, where the infamous orange box your bag had come in sat on a side table. « You’re not a cheap hoe, baby. You’re an expensive one. Top-shelf. »  The audacity of his words made your jaw drop. « Are you fucking serious right now? » you hissed, though your lips, betraying that you were fighting a smile.  « I’m just saying, » he said, raising a brow. « If I’m gonna grovel, might as well acknowledge you’re in a league of your own. »  

As much as you appreciated witty banter, your faint smile vanished as quickly as it appeared. You pulled back, crossing your arms over your chest. « You think this is some sort of joke? » you asked coldly. « You think you can insult me twice in a row and that a clever wording is going to make it ok? ». He blinked, caught off guard. « Woah, hold up » he started, but you cut him off.  « No, seriously, Marshall. You think calling me ‘high-maintenance’ or joking about Birkin bags is cute? I never once asked for any of that stuff. »   Your words hit him like a slap. The air between the two of you grew heavier as your frustration spilled over.  « Do you think throwing expensive gifts at me is some kind of substitute for actually being here? » you continued, your voice rising. « You waltz in with flashy things like it’s gonna make up for the fact that you’re barely present anymore. And then you have the audacity to crack a joke about it? Like I’m some gold digger you need to bribe? »  He opened his mouth to respond but faltered, realizing he had nothing to say that wouldn’t make it worse.  « You know what I value, Marshall? Time. Effort. Real things. Not overpriced bags or shoes or necklaces that just sit in a closet. If I wanted someone who could buy me things, I wouldn’t have chosen you. I wanted you. But apparently, that’s asking too much. »  

Your voice cracked on the last words, and you quickly turned away, your hands gripping the doorframe as you tried to regain some composure.  He stared at you, guilt gnawing at him. Every word you’d said was true, and he knew it. You weren’t materialistic—you never had been. The gifts had always been his way of showing love in the moments he couldn’t be there, an attempt to show that he thought you deserved the very best, but now he saw how empty they must have felt without his presence to back them up. « Hey, » he said softly, stepping closer but keeping his distance. « You’re right. I messed up. Again. »  You didn’t respond, your back still to him. « I thought the gifts… I don’t know… I thought they’d remind you how much you mean to me when I wasn’t around. But I see now that it probably just felt like I was buying my way out of being a better boyfriend. »  You turned to face him, eyes glistening but fierce. « Exactly. I don’t care about the money, Marshall. I don’t care about any of it. I would have loved you just as much if you’d been broke. What I care about is feeling like I actually matter to you. Like I’m not just here for when it’s convenient. » 

« You do matter, » he said, his voice thick with emotion. « More than anything. I know I’ve been screwing up left and right, lately, and you deserve way better than the half-assed version of me you’ve been getting. » You studied him, your walls still up, unsure if you wanted to believe him. « Words aren’t enough, Marshall. You know that. » He nodded with understanding. « I know, » he said quickly. « And I’m not gonna stand here and tell you I’ve got all the answers or that I’m magically gonna fix everything overnight. But I’m gonna show you, piece by piece, day by day, that you’re not just some afterthought to me. I can’t lose you. Not over this. Not over anything. »  The raw sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten. You wanted to hold on to your anger, to make him work for it. But there was something in his eyes—a mix of regret and determination—that chipped away at your defenses. Damn baby blue eyes. « You’ve got a lot to prove, » you said after a long silence.  « I know, » he replied, nodding earnestly. « And no more Birkin jokes, » you added sharply. He raised his hands in surrender. « Scout’s honor. »  For the first time in the conversation, your lips twitched into an actual smile. « You’re lucky I care about you, you know that? »  He exhaled in relief, stepping closer. « Nah, I’m lucky for a million reasons. But mostly because you’re still willing to give me a chance to fix this. » Your eyes softened, though you weren’t about to let him off the hook that easily. « Don’t make me regret it.»  

« I won’t, » he promised, taking your hand. « And for the record, you’re way more valuable than a Birkin bag. Like… priceless. Top-shelf, remember? »  You rolled your eyes but didn’t pull your hand away. « You’re really pushing it. » He couldn’t help but give you a shit-eating grin. « Yeah, but that’s why you love me, right? ».   

[muffinsin]

hi muffin!!! i'm sorry to bother you, but i have a question. could you write about how the dimitrescu sisters would react if they had a secret admirer who leaves them various gifts. i'm not forcing you, have a nice day!!!

Hey, hon! :) Absolutely, what an adorable prompt!😚😊 have a lovely day, everyone🙌

Let’s get into it ;P

Masterlists

Bela

Having lived decades, nearly a century even, having an admirer is certainly no new concept to her

It feels as though hundreds have tried over the years, trying and failing to court her, whereas others succeeded and were taken from her far too soon again

A secret admirer, however?

That’s new

The first thing she finds; a white envelope on her office desk with a red rose pinned to it

Ah, romance? Or a mere prank from her sisters

She isn’t too sure, allows herself to indulge in her own curiosity though as she gently takes the rose, only to realise:

Whoever left it, they’ve plucked out every single thorn

How…thoughtful

Bela tries to tell herself she isn’t interested in romance, that it’s a stupid, useless concept that just isn’t for her

That it’s something only naive, younger people dream of

Such as Daniela

Certainly not her, no. Certainly not Bela!

Still, she reads through the envelope, keeps the rose in a vase on her desk

She locks the envelope in her drawer, hoping her sisters won’t find. Or even worse yet; her mother

While she loves and is utterly devoted to Alcina, the mother of three can be very…protective

She would, without doubt, hunt down this secret admirer that could never possibly be worthy of her precious eldest

Bela can’t help but think…what if you are?

What if, someday, there was one worthy of her?

Someone to love her, too?

Even when she doesn’t love easily herself

A few days pass and she forgets about it, almost

Then, a small package on her bed

A box, a rather cheap one that tells her this was likely one of the staff members, one unable to afford rich fabrics and items

Still, she finds herself smiling a little at the scribbles at the sides, the small hearts and flies drawn messily on the brown box

She closes and locks her door, ensuring she’s on her own when she sits on the bed and opens the box, at last

Inside, a book, a light blue-green tone to it

She holds it gently, feels her cheeks heat up as she reads the title

The cover shows light blue and white hearts- literal ones, not the ones drawn by many maidens and her younger sister

Then, in beautiful font;

Frankenstein

She tries not to admit the blush on her cheeks, even to herself

Only mere days ago has she talked about the book, spoken about how badly she wants to read it, complained how the duke just hasn’t had it in store for ages!

Now, it’s in her hands and as she opens it, another envelope, signed only by “-♡︎”

She reads through it, her heart skipping a beat and her flies buzzing a little wilder than she’d like to admit

This time, she holds the envelope close to her chest as she curls up on her bed and begins to read

And lastly, a more expensive gift, many days later, and many envelopes left in her room in-between

She just finished her bath, her beautiful hair wet, her bare skin glistening in the dimly lit room, a towel wrapped around her still as she walks back out the attached bathroom and into the

Then, she spots it

The red dress on her bed

She looks around immediately, checking- hoping, that her secret admirer might just still be around

But the bathroom is empty, as is her room, her private maid having just left mere minutes ago

Dropping the towel, she gently picks up the dress

A more expensive material, certainly

Whoever her secret admirer is, they must have been working hard recently to afford such a thing

She feels her cheeks heat up

While her youngest sister would be over the moons at the item, the dress, Bela is taken aback by the fact someone must have worked so hard to get something for her

To spoil her

Her!

Her, who has everything already

Her, who holds the dress close like a treasure known to only her

She holds it in front of her mirror, smiling a little to herself when the reads the note in the envelope that falls from the sleeves

“A beautiful dress for a beautiful woman. I know it will suit you, and I shall lie awake envying the fabric caressing your soft skin”

She blushes a sweet pink, a sharp contrast to her pale skin

She wears it the next day, then, hoping to uncover the person who has her so very interest

She yearns to meet you

Cassandra

One would think Cassandra’s brutal and sadistic nature keeps most at bay

That no one would dare approach her, would be foolish enough to fall for her

And one would be wrong

Throughout her life, she has bedded and been with many lovers

No, not lovers

Playthings

She’s had admirers come and go

Some, she’d play with, others she would ignore, others she would dispose of immediately

Unlike her sister, though, Cassandra finds being admired and being wanted is fun

Of course, she finds being feared is better than to be loved

But, the many admirers coming her way, practically offering themselves up for her…it’s fun

Satisfactory

Only does she never quite feel intrigued, never eager to make her pets last

As such, what most of them get is a fun night they might normally never forget, only to awaken with a sickle stuck in their back and their throat slit open

Normally, they approach her, or send her shy looks and giggles until she takes them

Precisely that is why Cassandra finds herself so confused when she returns to her room one day and something has changed

All the weapons messily sprawled out on her floor are laid on her bed now, cleaned, sharpened, polished

A note is laid out on top of one, with a small, new dagger laid across it

She picks it up, admiring its sharpness and the strong leather handle

Certainly a neat little gift

Almost, she would think it’s from Bela or Mother even, but knows neither of them would clean her weapons for her

Then, she reaches for the note, finding it signed mysteriously

“- ♡︎”

What the…?-

While she finds it a little odd, Cassandra forgets about this soon, far too distracted playing with her new dagger

Then, however, another gift appears

This time it’s left on the threshold to the dungeons. All know those are her regions!

She finds a torso lacking its limbs there, a dagger pinning a note into the back of it

Looking at it, she finds the strange signature again

“- ♡︎”

She prods at the torso with her fingertip, licking her lips

Still warm, too!

When she notices no one around, no one that could have done this, she shrugs it off and lifts the torso easily, biting into it and moaning at the taste

She certainly doesn’t need anyone to hunt for her,

but still, she enjoys it, finds herself liking this gift more than many other things

When another gift is left for her, more attention and affection is given to her, she almost snaps

While her family receives somewhat boring body parts for dinner, the heart is placed on her plate, the blood and sauce covering it making up a shape

“- ♡︎”, unsurprisingly

She demands to know who has done this

She can’t take her own curiosity, must know who you are

But with the staff too fearful to give her useful answers, she’s left guessing still

And, lastly, another gift

A rose, seemingly preserved in metal, beautiful and elegant

It’s left in the armoury for her to find, this time

She holds it to her gently, her fingertips tracing the metallic leaves and petals

The thorns are sharp, and she smiles in delight when one catches her finger and draws dark blood from her

Glancing around, she sucks at her bleeding fingertip, a light blush on her cheeks

She so badly wants to know, so badly wants to get to know the person doing all of this

Your gifts prove- you know her, know what she values and enjoys

Like the huntress she is, she searches everywhere, tries to hard to pick up any scent on, but none lingers on it

She’s certain, she will find out eventually, can’t sleep, can’t rest

She needs to know

Daniela

Out of the three sisters, Daniela is the one with the most lovers, by far

At the same time, hers rarely last more than two weeks at most, contrasting the many relationships her sisters have had and lasted in for months and years

Daniela, being naturally flirty, has many admirers

And she loves it

While some fear her, she still finds most trying to flirt back, eager to be with her for various reasons;

Either, her beauty. It’s no secret most that return her advances do so in hopes of fighting the loneliness in the castle and to indulge in her body

Others hope to gain something by being with the young woman

And others do genuinely feel for her, or believe so at least, yet never last

Through the pink-tinted glasses she has, the world seems beautiful, romantic, loving

Many don’t understand so

Many of her admirers fall due to this

You, however, stand out

You make her curious, immensely so

Daniela first finds a strange, red box sitting snuggly on her bed one day

Large, almost too large to contain something small only

Of course, this has her feel curious

When she opens the door eagerly, almost shredding it in her excitement even, she squeals at what she finds inside

A brown, fluffy teddy bear!

She picks it up immediately, giggles at the scent of roses clinging to it

As she lifts the stuffed animal, though, she notices a little white card slipping from it

She reads the signature, a little gasp coming from her lips as she realises:

She has a secret admirer!

A secret one…of course, this immediately makes her wonder who you are

How exciting!

How unique!

She sleeps with the bear each night, holding it and more of her stuffed animals close

She wonders: does her admirer smell of roses, too? Like the bear?

When she finds another card, with a poem, right by her door the next morning, she swoons

Again, it shows the little heart by the signature

“- ♡︎”

Even while trying to figure out who her lover could be-

while hiding both, the bear and the note from her overprotective family

- Daniela can’t help but daydream of what you could be like

Giddy, she wonders whether you’re watching her; whether you’ve ever talked to her

Whether she knows you

The next gift is a bouquet of flowers, left with her favorite book and the signed note at the library

She giggles out loud, spinning in a circle and smiling to herself as she smells the roses

How sweet!

How romantic!

Again, she looks around and tries to pick up your scent, pouting adorably when she just can’t figure out who her secret admirer is!

She’s sure, she will find out eventually

She simply has to

A few days pass, and she receives more gifts, more notes

Little poems, love notes

Little compliments that make her blush shyly and look around curiously, her cute, golden eyes wide in wonder

All signed by the mysterious, sweet heart

She keeps all the notes in her room, giggling to herself when she re reads them with a pink blush on her cheeks

Her very own secret admirer!

Another present, a little while after

A box, small and delicate, waiting for her on the bed in the morning

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she feels a little excited at the thought her soon-to-be lover must have been here

Opening the box, she finds a beautiful piece of jewellery

A necklace, gold with a beautiful green gemstone

She smiles widely, inspecting the gemstone lovingly

It almost looks like the one of her necklace! A matching piece, almost

Eagerly, she puts it on, smiling and swarming to the mirror

It really does look perfect around her neck!

[mur4sak1]

How would genshin man help you if you were afraid of thunder on a stormy night?

A/N: Remember that English is not my first language so I hope I wrote in the best way <3

Situation: That evening, night had fallen very quickly on Teyvat. The approaching storm seemed to have hastened the twilight, and soon the sky was filled with thick, dark, ever-moving clouds. The wind began to whisper through the trees, with a delicacy that hinted at the strength it would soon unleash. The rain began to fall slowly, like a musical prelude, a symphony that accompanied the arrival of night. The flashes illuminated the sky with a sudden silvery light, revealing for a moment the wild beauty of nature. Each flash was followed by a distant murmur, a thunder that was heard like an ancient song of the earth, when then, suddenly, a thunder louder than the others pierced the silence, causing an explosion that made you jump. Your heart began to beat faster, and in that moment of disorientation, you instinctively sought the comfort of someone you knew could calm your fears.

Characters: Zhongli, Diluc, Kaeya, Wriothesley, Itto,

Zhongli= You were in Liyue Harbor, but the landscape was shrouded in a terrible storm. The sky above the port was a sea of dark clouds, crossed by lightning that fleetingly illuminated the imposing mountains and the traditional roofs of the houses. The port itself was a chaos of fury and movement: the waves, high and tumultuous, crashed violently against the piers, raising spray that mixed with the impetuous wind. The boats, at the mercy of this stormy sea, swayed frantically, like toys in the waves. The entire sea seemed like a vortex of energy and anger, dragging everything in its path into its unstoppable turmoil. Then, suddenly, a thunderclap split the sky, its roar so powerful it seemed to penetrate your bones. The deafening noise jolted you out of your dream, causing you to snap awake. The chaos of the storm, which seemed so real and immediate in your dream, faded into the darkness of your room, replaced by the din of the storm outside that now enveloped you in the real world. Freed from your blankets, you turned to the side of the bed and saw Zhongli standing by the window watching the storm. "Everything OK?" He asked you. “Yes, I was just scared by the thunder, sorry if I disturbed you.” Zhongli shook his head with a gentle smile and motioned for you to come closer. “You don't have to apologize,” he said, placing a warm, reassuring hand on your shoulder, moving the hair covering it. “It's natural to be scared of the storm. Even the loudest noise can make us feel small and vulnerable.” He looked out the window, observing the stormy clouds with a peaceful gaze. “You know, storms always have an end,” he added in a calm tone. “Even when they seem so intense and scary, they're just a moment that will pass. And in the meantime, it's normal to feel a little overwhelmed." As he spoke, lightning lit up the sky, followed by thunder that rumbled through the room. You jumped slightly, but Zhongli tightened his grip on your shoulder, reassuring you with his calm presence. “You don't have to face the storm alone,” he said. “We can just stay here, together, and listen to the rain.” With a quiet gesture, Zhongli pointed out two particularly dark clouds to you. “Watch,” he said, as a blue flash promptly split the sky, illuminating the dark night. “This is how the accumulated energy finds its way out, with a little eye you will also be able to understand where they will form, and in that moment you will understand that you have nothing to fear.” You felt reassured by his words and his calm way of dealing with the situation. Even though the thunder continued to shake the night, Zhongli's presence by your side made the storm less scary. In that moment, you understood that you didn't always have to be brave alone; sometimes, having someone to share your fears with made everything more tolerable.

Diluc=When you woke with a start, a sense of dread enveloped you. The storm continued to rage outside the window and the roar was amplified by the lightning that pierced the darkness. Instinctively you turned towards the other side of the bed in search of your companion, but instead of his figure you only found a pillow and the blanket as if it had been redone. Panic washed over you as you tried to figure out where he had gone. You quickly got out of bed, your heart pounding in your chest. You immediately ran towards the door of the room, desperately searching for his presence and when you opened it, you glimpsed a warm light coming from the study. You breathed a sigh of relief and with your heart still beating wildly, you took a few small steps to grab the handle. As soon as he saw you, Diluc looked up. His eyes softened and his worried expression turned into a small grimace of understanding. With a small smile, he noticed your disheveled hair and couldn't help but chuckle slightly. "Did the storm scare you?" he asked in a sweet tone, trying to understand your mood. At your affirmative nod, Diluc stood up from his chair and gently took your hand. Without saying a word, he guided you towards the small kitchen. He grabbed a warm blanket from a nearby chair and placed it gently over your shoulders. He sat you down at a wooden table and began making hot tea, the scent of herbs filling the air. Diluc moved calmly and precisely, concentrating on his gestures. The water boiled on the stove while he took two cups and poured the tea. Without saying anything, he handed one to you, his fingers brushing over yours in a reassuring touch. You snuggled closer into the blanket, sipping the hot herbal tea and watching the storm rage outside the window as your man sat next to you. After a while, Diluc looked at you with a small smile and asked in a quiet voice, “Is it good?” You nodded and thanked him, the warmth of his gesture more than enough to make you feel safe. Diluc smiled back at you, happy to know that his simple gesture was enough to comfort you.

Kaeya=When you woke up, you found yourself immersed in a storm you hadn't anticipated. Although you had noticed the dark clouds and strong winds during the day, you had not expected such a violent storm. Thunder roared and lightning pierced the darkness of the night, flooding the room with intermittent flashes. You turned to your man in panic and discovered, without too many surprises, that he too had been awakened by the roar of the night due to his light sleep. "What happens?" Kaeya asked, sleepily rubbing one eye. When you told him that it was the thunder that scared you, he couldn't help but chuckle and an amused smile formed on his face. It was too much, how could he laugh while you were so fragile for a moment? He didn't even give you time to answer him in kind before with a quick movement, he hugged you tightly, burying your face in his neck; his enveloping warmth and presence infused you with immediate peace. “Stop worrying, beautiful,” he said in a reassuring tone, “you're safe with me.” As you snuggled into him, you couldn't help but think how little other people knew about this side of the captain. His usual air of mystery and charming demeanor hid a sweetness and tenderness that only you were privileged to see. At that moment, you felt that you were the only one who had access to this intimate corner of his heart. And yet, even in such a situation, Kaeya couldn't miss out on some provocation. With a playful smile, he added, “And don't worry, it's not like the thunder can come in here to get us.” His joke made you smile, but the security of his embrace was so enveloping that you didn't pay too much attention to it, letting yourself be lulled by the regular rhythm of his breathing and the tranquility he exuded.

Wriothesley (warning: fear of aggression that didn't happen) = When a sudden scream pierced the night, Wriothesley sprang to his feet without hesitation. He was focused on a job for the managing of the fortress, but the sound of your voice full of terror, made him immediately abandon everything. The document he was reading was abandoned on the desk and the pen fell, hitting the floor hard as he rushed towards the shared room, his heart pounding with worry that someone had broken in to attack you. As soon as he opened the door with a decisive movement, he found you curled up in bed, trembling and with a face marked by panic. Loud thunder rumbled outside, making the walls vibrate, and he immediately knew what had scared you. In an instant, Wriothesley was beside you, sitting on the bed and enveloping you in a protective hug. “Hey, it's okay,” he whispered in a soothing voice, his arms holding you tight, trying to make you feel safe. “I'm here, there's nothing to be afraid of. It's just a storm, it will pass soon.” The warmth of his body and the security of his hold began to slow your heartbeat. His hand, strong and reassuring, moved through your hair, while the other held you close to him with a determination that spoke more than a thousand words. The fear that had overwhelmed you slowly faded, replaced by the profound feeling that, with Wriothesley by your side, no storm, real or figurative, could touch you. In that moment, while the world outside continued to rage, you realized that next to him, you were truly safe from any danger, because you know he would do anything for you.

Itto=The storm raged with full force. Thunder rumbled and lightning illuminated the room with a ghostly glow. Sitting on the couch, you clutched your pillow, trying to control the racing of your heart with each burst of noise. Itto, next to you, seemed unfazed by the chaos outside. When he noticed your scared reaction, his face lit up with a smile that mixed determination and amusement. “Don't worry,” Itto said, pausing dramatically as the sound of thunder filled the room. “This storm is trying to test us, as if it wants to challenge us to see who is more powerful!” Your shocked gaze met with his accomplice, then he continued, “And you know what? I accept the challenge. With every thunder we hear, we prove that we can be stronger, more courageous. We must show that nothing can scare us!”. Itto's tone was playful but true, as if he was facing the storm in some kind of friendly competition. He got up from the sofa and, with a theatrical gesture, pretended to prepare for a great battle against the noise of the storm. “Every thunder you hear is like a blow from the storm,” he explained. “But we respond with our courage and our smile. This is how we win this challenge!” When more thunder roared, Itto raised his arms and, with a playful cry, began counting down to an imaginary "counterattack." His exaggerated behavior and enthusiasm made you laugh, and slowly the fear began to fade. “Imagine that we are gladiators of the storm,” Itto said with a smile, “and every noise we make is our response to the challenge of the sky!” His ability to turn the storm into a kind of playful challenge and his encouraging attitude helped you see the situation in a different light. The initial fear faded and the outside noise became mere background to your little competition against the storm. "You see?" Itto said, lowering his arms with a triumphant smile. “We have shown that we can face anything with a little spirit and courage. This storm can make all the noise it wants, but we are stronger!”

[monstercangirlofficial]

Recommending some of my favorite rap songs. As a latin american trans woman, I didn't grow up with rap, but I learned to listen to and appreciate it. These are some great songs I think everyone should hear, and hopefully add to their playlists. These are Spotify links, but you can find these songs elsewhere too. My favorites are in blue:

Pop Rap: She's a Bitch by Missy Elliot (1999); Comfortable (ft. Babyface) by Lil Wayne (2003); Savage (ft. Beyoncé) by Megan Thee Stallion (2020); Too Many Nights (ft. Don Toliver & Future) by Metro Boomin (2022); Never Lose Me (ft. SZA & Cardi B) by Flo Mili (2024)

Classic Rap: My Mic Sounds Nice by Salt-N-Pepa (1986); South Bronx by Boogie Down Productions (1987); Welcome To The Terrordome by Public Enemy (1990); Born and Raised In Compton by DJ Quik (1991); When In Love by MC Lyte (1991)

Gangsta Rap: Gimme the Loot by The Notorious B.I.G. (1994); Cloverland (ft. Botany Boyz) by DJ Screw (1996); The Art of Peer Pressure by Kendrick Lamar (2012); Norf Norf by Vince Staples (2015); Tear Gas (ft. Rick Ross & Lil Wayne) by Conway the Machine (2022)

G-Funk: Nuthin' But A "G" Thang (ft. Snoop Dogg) by Dr. Dre (1992); Funkdafied by Da Brat (1994); It's Supposed to Bubble by UGK (1994); Dusted 'N' Disgusted (ft. 2Pac, Mac Mall & Spice 1) by E-40 (1995); Can't C Me by 2Pac (1996)

Conscious Rap: Proletariat Blues by Blue Scholars (2006); 4 Your Eyez Only by J. Cole (2016); Blood of the Fang by clipping. (2019); Iman (ft. SiR & JID) by Rapsody (2019); I Love You, I Hate You by Little Simz (2021)

Abstract Rap: Accordion by Madvillain (MF DOOM & Madlib) (2000); Mural by Lupe Fiasco (2015); The Punishment of Sisyphus by Hermit and the Recluse (Ka & Animoss) (2018); Magician (Suture) by Milo (2017); Arugula by Junglepussy (2020)

Jazz Rap: Jazz (We've Got) by A Tribe Called Quest (1991); 93 'Til Infinity by Souls Of Mischief (1993); The World Is Yours by Nas (1994); Yesterday by Noname (2016); Live! from the Kitchen Table (ft. Ghais Guevara) by McKinley Dixon (2023)

Trap: Ridin' N' Da Chevy by Three Six Mafia (1999); Love Don't Live (U Abandoned Me) by Gangsta Boo (2001); Kay Kay by Chief Keef (2012); Digits by Young Thug (2016); Poppin by Rico Nasty (2017)

Experimental Rap: Spiritual Healing by dälek (2002); Persistence by Lil Ugly Mane (2015); Ain't It Funny by Danny Brown (2016); Thug Tears by JPEGMAFIA (2018); Superman That by Injury Reserve (2021)

I strongly recommend checking out other songs by these artists, the albums these songs are from, more songs from these genres and others I didn't include, and to explore everything hip hop has to offer (especially hip hop made by women). Feel free to add any artists and songs I (obviously) missed, that you think deserve more love and recognition, particularly independent music. Enjoy!

[exquisink]

Make That Double, Ch4 - Yan!SatoSugu X Fem!Reader [AO3]

Word Count: 5.1K

Warnings: non-con, PIV sex (protected), cunnilingus, lactation kink, mommy kink (all with geto)

Gifted with supernatural abilities or not (Sorcerers are a thing? For real? Something like this still difficult for you to accept!), there’s one downfall about both Geto and Gojo you know you can exploit.

The fact that they’re still men.

After what’s unfolded in the underground, Gojo stays behind for a little aftercare. You’re amazed the two even believe in it, all things considered. You’re snuggled between them in a large bath, full of Epsom salt, bath oils, bath bombs, even a few rose petals to add a little more zing to the vibe. And the only light illuminating the place is the tea light candles they’ve garnished around the tub. Perhaps this is to butter and soften you up around them, or it’s more between them since they’re already established in some kind of weird arrangement themselves. You’re not sure if you can call it a relationship.

Geto has a more protective hold around you while Gojo is content just lounging in the steaming hot bath water. Geto traces his finger lightly down your arms, murmuring something into your ear.

“How do you feel now?” he questions, kissing the crown of your head. You shift a bit in place. There’s not much room between the three of you. You’re practically wedged between them. The slightest movement or little wriggle of your body, and you can feel either of their dicks brushing against your thigh or hip underwater. You fucking loathe every minute of this, but it’s better than them violating you, you suppose.

You don’t respond. Gojo glances at you, assessing you with a curious twinkle in his eyes.

“That’s her first time feeling real dick inside her, and we didn’t even move. Of course she’s still feeling a little overwhelmed,” Gojo interjects with a disapproving frown. “I guess you’re right. We should have taken things a bit slower, but you got carried away too, Suguru!”

They talk about you like you’re not even in the room with them. They’re checking off a long, long, loooong list of things that really pisses you off, huh? Beyond the stalking, kidnapping, killing innocent people, violating your body…and all that hunk of shit.

“True,” Geto agrees while absently twirling a strand of your hair. You fight back the urge to wince. You hate how touchy these pricks are. “I just find her difficult to resist.”

Gojo’s brilliantly, blindingly bright sky blue stare bores into you as a toothy smile graces his features. “I guess I can’t blame you there. But come on, I was playing nicer than you were! You are so full of shit.”

And you know what they say about men not only being stupidly easy to bend or manipulate, but also being stupidly competitive?

A light bulb goes off in your head. You try to keep your expression neutral. Sure, you’re pissed as all hell at these guys, but you have to learn how to play the long game like you told yourself before.

“Satoru’s right,” you pipe in, as you pry yourself away from Geto’s embrace and snuggle into Gojo’s bare chest, your finger tracing over one of his pecs. Geto’s arm splashes the water as you pull away. He’s probably taken aback from his lack of immediate reaction. “He’s been nicer. Gentler. Like a lover should be. Isn’t that right?”

You lean into his ear as you end that sentence with a low, sultry purr, blowing a bit of air into it. You feel Gojo’s breath hitch as he cages you more tightly into his hold, fully secured in his warmth. You don’t react right away, but you wish you could, because the pride swelling in your chest that that was that easy is unbearable in the best way possible.

“But of course, Princess. You know I wasn’t doing anything wrong,” he murmurs as he presses a chaste kiss to your lips. Geto’s stare now bores into your back, his jaw slackened. You try not to grin. Not yet, at least. You bite down the urge hard because of how fast this is working.

To add fuel to the fire, you sigh dreamily into the kiss, your free hand cupping one of Gojo’s cheeks as he deepens it.

Now Geto growls under his breath. Bull’s eye.

“Remember what we’ve discussed, Satoru,” he warns, and with a hearty laugh, Gojo pries one eye open to glance at Suguru. “I hope you remember why I allow this in the first place.”

“Hmmmm…I believe we discussed something about me playing fair when it comes to her, and you know I am! I’m not doing anything wrong here,” Gojo taunts back, before twisting his head and twirling his tongue against yours, shutting his eyes again.

“Satoru,” he growls again, simmering in the bath now as he shifts in his spot, the water sloshing slightly as he adjusts, supporting himself against the edge of the tub. Stewing in his own bullshit and you wish you can pry your eyes open to sneak a glance, but you want to play this up a bit more. Favor one over the other sometimes. Find other ways to push their buttons…or at least figure out the proper buttons to push. That’s what really grinds anyone’s gears, but especially men like Geto and Gojo. They are as prone to rivalry and proving to each other who has the bigger sword as much as they are prone to being a team of menaces.

And if a girl like you is on the line? Well, as long as you play your cards right and don’t end up having to fold, it can’t hurt to mess around with this.

Besides, don’t you think you deserve a form of entertainment since you’re having to endure so much crap? Of course you do!

Gojo breaks the kiss only to drag his tongue along your jaw, his eyes glinting in a mischievous manner as they lock on Geto, still stewing in his anger and bullshit. You feel your heart leap and backflip in joy. What a sight! It’s a small win, but a win’s a win and you know you’re not going to have very many of those. You may as well soak it up like a sponge.

Or like your fingers are the bath water…

“Oh, come on, Suguru,” he purrs, as one of his hands glide down your stomach, eliciting a shiver out of you. He quirks an eyebrow as he judges his old friend. “Just teachin’ ya some manners. Like man, maybe you got to read another one of those self-help books on how to please a woman or something. You could seriously use it.”

You bite your lip as you wait for Geto’s retaliation, but shockingly, he has nothing to say in response to that. He only scowls as you snuggle in more into Gojo, and Gojo’s dreamy sigh only seems to piss Geto off even more. What if Geto doesn’t want this arrangement in the first place? He only does it because he still cares about Gojo.

(Not that you care, but it’s something to take into account.)

You really hope you aren’t starting bigger fires. But it’s not like they’d hold back on you, either way, no matter what they insist otherwise.

Remember, you’re playing the long game here…even if you might not win in the end, it’s better to put up a fight than to not try at all.

Geto is still a bit lenient with you when it comes to anything sexual. Which you’re not complaining about in the slightest. It leaves your mind more space to think about your upcoming assignments and exams; this is your last semester and in spite of everything, you’re almost done.

The girls do seem to enjoy spending time with you, which makes all of this a little more bearable. You try to fish for any other information you can about Geto out of them. Anything you can use. You’re not some person gifted with supernatural gifts, but you are gifted with common sense, a hint of street smarts and intelligence.

You doubt it’s going to be enough.

At some point, you do run into some other members of Geto’s ‘family.’ Suda, you have met a handful of times since your first day there. She’s his secretary who doesn’t make any effort to engage with you, but she does send a lot of dirty looks your way. Another member you meet is named Miguel, a sorcerer who hails all the way from Kenya.

You have to admit: the guy’s handsome. But he’s guarded, aloof, keeps mostly to himself, and most of all, he doesn’t seem entertained by your presence in the slightest. But since he respects Geto, he’s supervised you a handful of times while you did any group work with students online.

Just to ensure you don’t try anything stupid.

The computer Geto has given you, you learn, actively records everything you do online anyway. It’s not like you can bypass it. And only Geto can lock and unlock everything for you.

You’re watched like a hawk with everything you do. Even if you call for help, nothing can save you from what these beings are capable of, anyway. You’re not going to drag innocent strangers into this mess. You have to find another way.

One evening while you’re walking back to Geto’s bedroom, you accidentally brush against Miguel. You bow your head and apologize, but he grunts to himself.

“You being here isn’t right,” he mutters, leaving you dumbfounded as he scurries off. Like not right as in ‘you don’t belong with them’? He’s so right about that, but you can’t help but wonder if there’s something you missed.

Not like you can afford to dwell on it. If you’re not back in the bedroom before Geto returns, you have something bigger to worry about then.

You close the door behind you, sighing in relief when you notice he’s not returned from some business he had to attend to that you didn’t care to pay attention to and hear about.

You disrobe, clad in just your lacy undergarments like he expects, before sliding under the covers of the unbelievably soft bed. That’s one perk out of this. The bed back in your apartment isn’t the nicest. You can appreciate the smaller luxuries here.

You release a huge breath of relief. Some time to breathe before Geto pollutes your personal space again.

Oh, how wrong you are. It seems you can’t get too comfortable. The door creaks open and in strides Tweedle-fucking-dee.

“Hello, little dove,” he greets with a small smile before shutting the door. “Did you have a lovely day with the girls?”

You nod, hugging the blanket to your chest. “They were content in letting me play Animal Crossing with them.”

“Sounds like a peaceful time,” he replies as he crawls into bed with you, scooping you into his arms and pulling you flush into him. His finger traces your lips as he affectionately gazes down at you. “I’m glad to see you’re adjusting better than I expected.”

You say nothing, averting your gaze. This all feels so…ugh.

Remember what else you can do?

“Suguru, why do you allow Satoru access to me?” you inquire, feigning innocent curiosity.

His eyebrows flash at that question.

“We just tend to share,” he answers, fiddling with a lock of your hair. Your lips purse.

That doesn’t sound convincing.

“We?” you probe, scooting closer to him. Play this up as much as you can. “Or he? Because it doesn’t sound like you’re happy with the idea. Isn’t this about the girls’ happiness, ultimately? So that they can live with a functional family?”

“I want to give them a healthier upbringing than I had, indeed,” he concedes with a hum, snuggling you closer as he nuzzles his nose into your collarbone. “But Satoru is special to me too. It won’t be much longer until he can no longer see me, anyway.”

Healthier upbringing? …He must see the irony in that confession, right?

You cock your head slightly, parting your lips, as if inviting him for a kiss. “Why’s that?”

“Politics,” he answers smoothly, accepting the bait and pecking your lips. “Regarding sorcerers.”

“Oh. Um.” Words die on your tongue, as you’re unsure where to go from here.

“It doesn’t concern you, little dove. You don’t have to worry about it,” he assures you, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple before his lips trail lower, stopping between your breasts. He breathes out slowly, as if willing himself to relax. He peppers gentle little kisses along your chest before he unclasps your bra and tosses it carelessly away.

“Suguru…?” you murmur before a gasp interrupts you as he fondles one of your breasts. His calloused thumb brushes over your perky nipple a few times, before pinching it between his fingers.

“The medication worked faster than I expected,” he whispers, dragging his tongue between your breasts. You let out a breathy moan. Your breasts have definitely become more tender and sensitive, drawing more reactions out of you that certainly please Geto to no end. While he hasn’t been so handsy on you since the last time Gojo came for a visit, he hasn’t let go of his particular fixation on this. Feasting on either these or on your cunt, depending on his mood. “You have the sweetest milk… I can’t stop thinking about it.”

How the hell are you supposed to react to that?

He playfully bites the little bud, making you whine from the light sting, before he sucks the nipple into his mouth. Groaning low and guttural as the rush of liquid hits his eager tongue, gulping it down dramatically.

He removes his mouth for a moment to speak.

“My pretty dove,” he coos, pressing a kiss to the drenched nipple. “My pretty Mamma.”

A record stops in your brain. Your eye almost twitches.

….what. The hell.

You know he wants you to be a mother to the twins, but…but…what the actual hell is this?

“I….um…” your voice fades like the end of a soundtrack. You don’t even have a comeback to that. It’s probably best you didn’t, because Geto raises his head to meet your eyes, his own violet hues shimmering with lust and something else too gut-wrenching to name.

Whatever it is, it’s probably some twisted amusement at your aversion to the way he addressed you.

“What, don’t like the idea of me submitting to you? Mamma?” he purrs, nuzzling his face between your breasts, kissing between them. You clench your teeth, biting down the smart retorts dying to slip from your cannon of a mouth. Not like you have any real power even if he did.

His fingers ghost down your waist and hips, and you shudder, chewing on your lip to bite back a moan. “Do you like it when I call you that?”

“Hell no,” you retaliate in a sharp tone, and a sadistic grin spreads across his face.

“Even better,” he jives, before seizing your opposite nipple and suckling hard, eager to drink more of your essence. The glug, glug, glug from his eager slurping and sucking makes you flush from embarrassment. It’s so gross. You hate that now you have to not only mother the girls, but to fulfill some more weird ass shit for Geto.

His lips come off your drenched nipple, finally, to give him a few moments to breathe but then he snakes down until his head is caught between your thighs. His fingers rub against your clothed pussy, tongue running along his lips.

“I think you’ve had enough time to cool off in the last two weeks since Satoru visited, don’t you think?” he muses out loud, peeling your panties aside to reveal your perfect cunt already coated in a light sheen from your slick. “Oh? Someone’s enjoyed themselves and they won’t admit it?”

Fucking piece of shit, you sneer in your mind.  

Two fingers dip between your folds, sliding along them before they infiltrate your entrance.

“Suguru,” time to see how far this can go. “Satoru was way nicer back there. Why can’t you be like that?”

Geto freezes, but his fingers don’t exit, instead he continues to pump them in and out of you in a more slow, careful manner.

“Which of us do you prefer, Mamma?” he mutters, curious. “Do you really think he is more adept than I in treasuring you? He’s not even going to be here as much anymore.”

“Hm? Am I allowed to give you an answer, Suguru?” you retort in that feigned clueless tone, tilting your head. “I think you know the answer. But I am curious. Why do you let Satoru get under your skin like that, when you’re the one in control?”

Suguru bites back a sigh. “…It’s complicated, Mamma. Something you can’t understand.”

Oh, how you loathe the fact that he can talk to you like that.

Dragging out a mock sympathetic sigh, your hand rests on Geto’s hair as his fingers idky pump in and out of you. He purrs in approval before his mouth descends on your cunt, closing his lips over your folds and slurping on your slick.

“Suguru,” you whisper, “Put Satoru in the back of your mind. He’s not here most of the time like you said, so why does it matter what I think of him when you have me all to yourself now?”

You ignore the bile threatening to ooze from your mouth. God, this alone is dehumanizing to you, even if Geto insists you’re above such treatment.

“That’s true, Mamma,” he replies, his voice muffled against your soaking cunt, his tongue still eagerly laving along the sensitive skin. “And he won’t be back for another month…some mission with his students.”

“So then,” you reply in an uncharacteristically sultry tone. “What have you got to worry about, darling?”

He growls in approval, suckling harder on your slick folds, and you inhale sharply. Guess he likes being called that.

“You’re right,” he grunts, pulling away to speak. “You’re all mine.”

You just keep telling yourself that, buddy.

It’s not hard to tell Geto might have a strong oral fixation. If he wants to he would definitely stay like this, but he has his own duties to fulfill (none that you care to learn about), and you’re just his pretty little trophy.

God, life is such a thing, isn’t it?

You do have to admit he’s far too good at this to be real. Had he been a real lover and you might have enjoyed this a lot more…

He adjusts your legs, pushing your knees toward your chest as he rolls his tongue along your slick cunt. The little flicks of his tongue against your clit are soft yet just firm enough to make your back arch off tbe bed.

“That’s it, Mamma. Let go. Let me take care of you,” he coos before his tongue probes your entrance.

You hate that it feels kind of good. His grip on your legs tighten, his finger pads digging into your skin. His tongue works its magic, pushing into your gummy walls and you’re writhing, almost keening beneath him. You’re gonna come. When you do, it’s in a crescendo and all Geto does is laugh in pure delight.

Quiet times with the girls have come to be the moments you largely prefer. Mostly because Geto keeps his hands to himself and you find that the girls are the least of your worries. They are more or less easy to please. As long as they have the pleasure of your company, you don’t have any qualms or issues with them.

Geto still likes to keep close to you, though. Whether that means you sitting right in his lap around the twins or just seated next to him while they do their own thing. Either way, you’re not leaving his line of sight no matter what.

He adjusts you a bit, snuggling you in close to his chest and you can smell the notes of citrus and sandalwood from his strong cologne. Strangely a comforting scent never mind it’s radiating from his body.

Nanako and Mimiko are facing behind you while they do a few rounds of Mario Golf. Their attention’s completely away from the two of you so occasionally Geto’s hands will go to places where they shouldn’t but it’s not like you have a voice here. His large, calloused hands are resting on your thighs, fingers brushing against the skin ever so slightly. The robe is absolutely for easy access. Why make the job unnecessarily difficult?

“Suguru?” you whisper, audible enough so only he can hear you. You lift your head, nuzzling into his shoulder. Just play the long game. Don’t lose sight of your goal and that’s finding a way to get the fuck out of here.

“What is it, Mamma?” he whispers back, matching your tone. His eyes shine with something akin to affection. How quickly it seems he let his resolve around humanity crumble around you, at least. Perhaps he wants you to disengage the barriers you have around yourself. Whatever the reason, it doesn’t matter, because you don’t care, either way.

“It would be wise to be less indecent,” you warn in a low tone. “You want to be a better lover to me than Satoru, don’t you?”

“Of course, haven’t I proven that already?” he retorts as his hands venture to cup your ass cheeks. You curse under your breath. This guy really isn’t different from Gojo in a lot of ways. Tweedle-fucking-dee for sure.

He grabs one of your hands before you can have an appropriate reaction, guiding it under his robe, on his pelvis where he makes you caress his growing erection.

When the girls can glance behind them at any time to see their adoptive father behaving less than decent.

“Help me with this, and I’ll keep my hands off of you for the rest of the week if that’ll make you happy,” he demands into your skin before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Around the girls?” you retaliate harshly, careful not to raise your voice.

He lifts one of your legs to shield the view a bit, in case the girls do cast curious glances, which they indeed will.

“Better, Mamma?” he purrs, while guiding your hand before you move it on your own, utilizing the soft palm and heel of your hand to stimulate him. He bites back a low grunt, careful not to draw attention to the two of you while the girls are engrossed in their own worlds. It’s better for them that way. Better not to taint their innocence any more than it already has been, right?

If you can even call those girls innocent given how casually they discuss such tragedies they have witnessed so young in their life.

“Not by very much,” you finally answer through your clenched teeth. An idea flashes in your mind, but you don’t know if you can execute it well. It’s worth a shot.

“Don’t you think it’d be a bit better if we had a little more privacy, darling?” you ask while batting your eyelashes to sweeten the deal—no matter how gross you feel doing this—and all the while tracing little patterns along his clothed, straining erection that you can feel dampening. “As tempting as this is, I’d prefer if you could be freer to express yourself.”

“You’re right, Mamma,” he replies, glancing at the girls with a neutral expression before hoisting you up into his arms princess style. Your knee pushes against his pelvis, where you can still feel the dampness from his leaking cock, concealing it from sight, but barely. “They won’t miss us much.”

He effortlessly carries you away from the living area and strides down the hallway leading to his bedroom. You won’t ever call it yours; you don’t belong here, just like that family member of his told you. You have spared yourself some embarrassment, at the very least, as he rests you on your back on his bed with shocking gentleness.

“I know this will be your first,” he growls into your neck before trailing heated kisses along it while fully disrobing you. “But I will follow through on my promise. After this, I won’t touch you like this again for another week. That makes you happy, does it not?”

Like he actually cares, you think, but rather than rebuking with a snippy reply, you nod in response and a slow smile graces his sharp features before he pries your legs apart. He tuts when he notices you aren’t wet enough, inspecting with a few of his fingers digging into your folds. Your breath catches in your throat.

“There’s always a solution to these things.”

He moves to gather the appropriate supplies—lube. And a condom. He actually cares enough to wear a condom this time.

“I don’t want there to be any…unfortunate mishaps,” he states, as he wraps himself with a clean condom before squeezing a liberal amount of lube into his hands. “I don’t care to breed for more sorcerer children, considering the chances of that are already slim to none…I’m already happy with the family I have. You, the girls, the cult…Satoru…”

He pushes two fingers coated in lube into you without so much as a warning and you arch your back into the bed, gripping the sheets. He chuckles at your reaction, shaking his head.

“Even though you’ve experimented so much with your own toys, the way you behave is just so cute. So innocent, as if you don’t have your own dark, filthy desires you want to fulfill,” he babbles as he stretches you with a third finger. “It’s misleading considering what you choose to wear beneath your clothes, and what Satoru has found rummaging through your dresser. You want something like this, don’t you?”

Your face drops at that little tidbit of information—so they  have been watching you for longer than you think, even going as far as invading your space? Before you even know they existed? This is insane.

“Not like this,” you confess, squeezing your eyes shut as the way he stretches your walls with his fingers burns so good but you don’t want to admit it. Even if it means staying in his good graces. As if you truly give a damn for no other reason than survival. You dare to prop yourself a bit on your elbows, glancing down as Geto continues to pump his fingers in and out of you. Sometimes he takes the time to admire the way your hole gapes, his lips parted slightly. A line of drool trickles down his chin and you grimace at the sight. What a fucking animal.

“Oh, you poor thing,” he coos condescendingly, popping his fingers out of your entrance while lining his protected cock to it. You swallow. It’s so huge. Sure, Gojo’s is big too, but not in terms of girth like with Geto’s.

Your eyes squeeze shut as a breathy shriek escapes your lips when the head finally breaches you. He coos and whispers sweet nothings to you, tries to comfort you by kneading your plush thighs as he inches the rest of his cock until you’re filled to the hilt. The stretch is so wide, brushing against your walls. Tears brimming at the corners of your eyes as you try to adjust. It’s nothing like how Gojo’s felt; it’s nothing like how your toys felt either because you have never taken anything nearly this size…

Geto cages your body with his, hands pressed to either side of your head as he leans into muffle your little whimpers and whines with a passionate kiss. He experiments with one gentle thrust, chuckling as your hands fly to grip tightly at his shoulders.

“Calm down,” he murmurs, having the gall to actually tell you that is maddening. “You’re alright. You’re taking me well. You feel perfect. So tight. Satoru must have really enjoyed that.”

Your eyes are still squeezed shut so you don’t bother to glare, just clinging onto him for dear life as he spares you with a few more gentle thrusts before finding a rhythm he’s happy with, because this is for his pleasure. This is all about him and nothing to do with you. Just smile and bear it. That’s all you can do here.

…Well, not all you can do.

“Stop thinking about Satoru unless you want me to bring up how much better his dick felt in there than yours,” you challenge as you dare to pry at least one eye open to get a view of Geto sprawled all over you with his dick balls deep inside. His body is already coated in glistening sweat and, in another world, you might have thought he was the hottest thing in existence. But you know the kind of ugly he is beneath those angelic features of his.

“Why are you telling me that, Mamma? Are you trying to upset me?” he shoots back, rolling his hips and thrusting harder, making you choke on a gasp. He smirks at that reaction in triumph.

“I’m telling you that to remind you to be better for me, darling,” you reply, sliding a hand down his hips, digging your nails as he adjusts his rhythm. Your eyes roll back as he hits that right spot, and, encouraged, he adjusts his rhythm again, brushing against that area over and over and over—

“—Fuck, Suguru!” you shout as you come, clenching around his girthy cock which feels surreal but horrifying considering this is not how you wanted your first time to be like. Even if it is technically good.

“Feel good, Mamma?” he purrs affectionately, but you can feel his dick twitching and he still feels so hard, like he’s got a long way to go before this is done. No wonder he’s offered a week of recovery following this… “Did I make you feel good?”

You bite back the menacing words you want to say and settle on, “Yes, darling. You made me feel so good. Now keep making me feel good so that you don’t have to be compared to—!”

“—Stop saying his name,” he growls, snapping his hips as he picks up a more erratic rhythm this time, rocking the bed and even making it creak a few times. “He’s not relevant here. This is about us, Mamma. Me and you. I get to make you feel good for as long as I desire, do you understand? Everything about Satoru is out of sight, out of mind here.”

Men are still men, in the end, you figure.

He doesn’t stop until finally, he comes, slipping his flaccid dick out and tossing the used condom away. But he doesn’t seem to want to stop at just one, as he tries to stroke his cock back to being fully erect.

He winks at you, grabbing another condom to slip back on.

“I’m sure you can tolerate a few more rounds, Mamma.”

[tellyouily]

fall right back to you

dnf - fluff - 900 words

read on ao3

-

Dream’s office is colder than his, and purple rather than George’s dark blue from the LED lights framing the ceiling.

He has his headphones on, his eyes no doubt fixed on the portion of the video he’s in the middle of editing, and it’s probably because of this that he doesn’t notice George coming in.

George closes the door behind himself and steps closer to the desk. It takes him one look at the monitor to Dream’s right to see that he still has X open, still showing the black screen of the stream George just ended. So he was listening. George smiles a little at that; he had a feeling Dream probably stuck around after he stopped texting him.

He touches the top of the chair, and Dream looks up quickly.

“Oh, hey. You scared me,” he says, but he’s smiling. He pulls his headphones down to rest around his neck.

“Sorry,” George says, letting his fingers slip into Dream’s messy curls. “You stayed for the whole thing?”

Dream nods, stretching. “I did. It was nice.”

He reaches out and strokes his hand across George’s lower back, over his t-shirt.

“You should start a podcast or something. You’d be good at it.”

George shakes his head, managing to suppress his smile even as Dream starts to laugh.

“Idiot,” he says, pinching Dream’s nape just lightly. He deserves it. Kind of.

Dream responds by leaning backwards in his chair and grabbing hold of his spare office chair, pulling it closer for George to sit.

“Sit,” he says. “I’ve missed you today.”

It makes for an easy decision – George’s favorite type of decision, coincidentally.

He sits, using his feet (and great effort) to roll the chair closer to Dream’s, and placing his legs in Dream’s lap, having to bend his knees over the stupid armrests to make it possible. It’s suboptimal, for sure, but it will have to do.

Both of Dream’s hands instantly come to rest on his calves, squeezing once.

“Tired?” Dream asks, gazing at him openly.

The look in his eyes, and his whole demeanor, really, tells George that out of the two of them, Dream is easily the one who is the most tired. But Dream is right, too – George is a little exhausted.

He closes his eyes for a moment, nodding. When he opens them again the world has gone a little blurry from his bleariness.

“Yeah, a bit,” he says

Dream encloses his hands around George’s ankles, his palms warm against the tiny sliver of skin between George’s sweatpants and his socks.

Looking at him now, George realizes that Dream looks… good. Like, in a noticeable way – a level of good that exceeds his usual level which George has gotten somewhat used to and somewhat less abnormal about. Somewhat. The second thing he realizes is that he doesn’t recognize the hoodie Dream is wearing. It’s dark gray and expensive looking. And nice. It makes Dream look really nice.

“I like your hoodie,” George says, because he does.

Dream looks surprised, but only for a split second before a smile takes over his features. He sounds a little suspicious, though, when he says, “Thanks.”

“Is it new?”

Dream nods, sparing a quick glance down at it. “Uhm, yeah. I think so, anyway.”

George clicks his tongue. “Trick question, I already knew it was.”

He did – Dream has many hoodies, but none in this shade of gray. As the Dream expert, George thinks he’s pretty much qualified to be certain of these things.

Dream laughs. “You are so weird.”

George doesn’t let it faze him. “I know every single piece of clothing you own,” he says instead. Because he does.

“Wow, so impressive,” Dream says, still laughing.

“It is,” George agrees, pressing his lips together solemnly. “I have an archive.”

To this, Dream nods slowly, which George appreciates. His detailed cataloguing of Dream facts should be admired and applauded, most of all by Dream.

“Alright, I’ll make sure to tell you next time I buy something, then. For your archive,” Dream says, not sounding entirely earnest, but George will take it.

“For my archiving purposes,” he echoes. “Yeah, you better.”

Dream just looks at him then, smiling through to his eyes. And George knows that face, would know it anywhere. He knows exactly what Dream is thinking. He narrows his eyes.

“I’m not kissing you.”

It makes Dream laugh, again. “What? Why not?”

“You’re gross.”

Dream snorts.

George smiles. “I don’t know where your lips have been. You might’ve licked the toilet since I last saw you for all I know.”

His ankle gets a gentle squeeze. “If I tell you, will you kiss me?”

“No.”

Dream raises his eyebrows. “Fine. I guess you hate me.”

It’s not that he means it, of course – he’s being an idiot, actually – but George won’t stand for such accusations. Especially not after Dream has said he missed him today, and especially not now that he’s wearing this hoodie which makes him look so extra kissable.

George leans forward, closing the short distance between them, and pecks Dream on the lips. One second and then it’s over, but Dream’s immediate smile is proof that it did in fact happen.

“I knew it,” he says.

George laughs, shifting closer to him subconsciously. “Knew what? That you’re an idiot?”

Smiling like he’s won, Dream only shrugs. “I just knew it.”

Luckily for him, George is not above kissing him again to get the answers he needs.

[kingdom-carer]

Unique agere writing prompts part two:

Someone stumbles upon a toy they used to love in a secondhand store and takes it home, thus kicking off their regression for the first time ever

A kiddo finds themselves in public searching for their CG and approaches a mother with children seeking help. How does the mother react, especially if the character is visually imposing?

An autistic kiddo speaks only in scripts, and CG can tell when they’re feeling small because they recognize the lines from kiddo’s favorite shows

A CG is scared of something - thunderstorm, flying, the ocean - but has to be brave for their kiddo, trying to convince themselves as well as their charge that everything is okay. Bonus points if kiddo isn’t scared at all so all the babbling is unnecessary, and extra bonus points if CG is a flip that ends up regressing and/or kiddo is a flip that ends up caring.

Kiddo introduces their friend to the concept of agere/dre, and their friend asks them if they can try it out if the blue one day.

What’s worse than getting caught being little? Getting caught being little during a very very not good time to be little, like a battle or imprisonment.

Kiddo can only be little after a meltdown but finds comfort in it … so sometimes they actively try to induce a meltdown so they can be little. When CG finds out about this bad habit they go ballistic.

CG uses their carer wiles to charm a captor or worm their way out of a bad situation (think honeypot but Winnie The Pooh, as it were) and get back to their baby. Can be played for comedic effect; works great with Littles Are Known.

Middle regressor always asks permission before they do anything ever … until the one time they don’t.

Middle/big sib gets in trouble for harassing their littler sib. Turns out they just needed more attention than they were getting.

CG absolutely HATES change (anxiety, autism, etc) but kiddo needs constant novelty. CG ends up having a meltdown/crashout while out and kiddo is the only one around to help.

CG is sick and has to entertain kiddo from the couch.

Kiddo tries to get their art project just right, and learns a thing or two about perfectionism in the process.

Kiddo plays out their trauma with their toys. CG is horrified.

Kiddo/middle wants a themed birthday party or special gift but is too shy to ask, so they find increasingly convoluted and hilarious ways to hint at it.

Christian kiddo learns that Jesus wasn’t kidding when He said “I tell you the truth, unless you turn from your sins and become like little children, you will never get into the Kingdom of Heaven.” … because the Spirit starts talking to them like a CG would.

dni if nsfw

[urno1luv]

tw: noncon, forced breeding, forced marriage, bruises and blood

men and minors do not interact

alpha!selugi who promised to marry you, love, arranged, or forced, despite it being against your wishes.

alpha!seulgi who hated and loved the fact that you were so pretty, which meant that other alphas were also romantically interested in you.

alpha!seulgi who also hated that you would always push her away, even more now because your parents accepted the proposal for you.

alpha!seulgi who's patience was slowly being lost while dealing with your spoilt attitude.

"baby, why are you crying? it's our wedding day, be happy. also, don't sit in the corner of your own wedding, you look pathetic."

alpha!seulgi who makes you stand up from your secluded spot, and looks you up and down, her predatory gaze settling on your cleavage.

alpha!seulgi holds your wrist, bruising it, as she greets the last few guests. she turns to you, her blue eyes raking through your form, and she grabs you, taking you to the limo that will drive you both to your new home together.

alpha!seulgi, who can smell your scent of fear radiating in the back of the limo. she consoles you by wrapping her arms around your shaking figure.

"don't be afraid, little wife. i'm not going to hurt you, or do anything you don't want, okay?"

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

you both arrive to a large mansion, probably payed by seulgi's parents. seulgi's hands creep closer to your waist, sending shivers of discomfort running down your body.

you pull away from her, and walk quicker, towards the massive, intricately detailed doors which were opened by two servants.

seulgi stares after you, biting her lip so hard it draws blood. she takes a deep breath, and controls herself, heading after you. it wouldn't be nice if she lost her composure around you, would it?

you head towards the staircase at the center of the mansion. the house itself looks pretty, but not homely, or lived in. you notice seulgi coming after you, so you wait for her to say something, anything.

she gazes down at you, eyes as cold as the north seas. you notice her scent changing into something more calm, but there's a hint of something beneath, something that bothers you.

she finally speaks, and her dark tone suggests that she's unhappy with you.

"what's bothering you, my love? why do you shy away from me? didn't i tell you i wouldn't hurt you?"

your mouth opens, yet no sounds exit them. you fiddle with your hands, clearly not able to answer her questions.

she breathes in, before speaking again.

"i know you don't want this marriage, but i will always treat you well, and i know you're afraid, but put all your trust in me."

she steps forward, slightly towering over you, and she reaches for your hands, stopping you from being distracted.

"no harm will ever come to you under my care, i swear to you."

you finally make eye contact with her, feeling a little more reassured by her comforting words till you notice.... is that guilt in her eyes?

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

alpha!seulgi who takes you to your shared bedroom for the night, where you were supposed to consummate your marriage.

alpha!seulgi who respects your wishes at first, and you both lay together, her long, pale fingers running through your hair.

alpha!seulgi who's eyes darken as she tells you how much she loves you, and how much she can't wait for you to give birth to her pups.

alpha!seulgi, who cackles humourlessly at you as you sit up, upset by her words.

"what, did you really think that i wasn't going to fuck you? you know how much i love you... and need you... you'll see in a moment, dearest."

alpha!seulgi who throws you back down on the bed, as you begin to struggle against her. her rough hands feeling you up, groping your chest.

alpha!seulgi who ignores your cries and whinpers, begging her to stop, while she rips of your beautiful wedding dress.

alpha!seulgi who kisses your neck, biting harshly everytime you try to raise your hands against her.

alpha!seulgi who undoes her belt, the metal buckle falling to the ground. you try to sit up, but she harshly slaps you, the force throwing you back down. the corner of your lip bleeding, she licks it, laughing at your pain.

alpha!seulgi who forces her cock inside of you, listening to your sobbing, while her body shakes at the warmth of your pussy.

alpha!seulgi who begins thrusting, her skin slapping against yours, while your cries begin to stop, as you lie there silently, eyes overflowing with tears of regret and pain .

alpha!seulgi who empties herself into you, lying on top of you, quivering as her seed fills you to the brim. she stays inside you, kissing and licking the bites on your neck.

"we are one now, my heaven on this earth. you belong to me, as i do you. no one shall take you away from me. our lives will forever be entwined, and nothing you can do will change that. so just accept my love, my love."

a/n: not proofread, and i think i repeated some words lmao. hope you enjoyed! <3

[onboardsorasora]

Daniel Ricciardo's Business Ventures- Primer?

I realized there's a lot of us who don't know all of Daniel's little business ventures that he's quietly been working on. So I've put this together- I too wanted to know if there was anything I had forgotten about. (I'm not sure if someone has done this before? I haven't seen it come across my dash.) Also good for fic purposes- I liberally used Blue Coast and DR3 Wines in one of my last stories

*Edited to add Lafayette and Goods Way, thank you Laila!

Blue Coast Brewing Co.

Started in 2017, its a brewery owned by Daniel Ricciardo, Jenson Button, Natalie Pinkham, Karen Minier Couthard, Tiffany Cromwell, Eugene Laverty, Thor Hushovd, Andreas Mikkelson, and Noah Wyle. They call themselves the Original Bluecoasters.

Their brews have won awards.

Ricciardo Kart

Started in 2015. They provide karts for 6 different categories.

Which goes hand in hand with the Daniel Ricciardo Series or DRS that kicked off in 2019.

The series runs for 8 weekends around the UK throughout the summer and they crown a champion at the end of the series.

DR3 Wines x St Hugo

I was surprised to find out that the first DR3xSt Hugo blend was from 2014. He'd said in an interview that he didn't want to just put his name on something- he wanted to be a part of the whole process.

Enchante.co

We all know about Ric3 turned Enchante.

Goods Way and Lafayette

Goods Way is a bar/speakeasy owned by Ben Lovett from Mumford & Sons and Lafayette is the live music venue attached to the bar. Lafayette is owned by both Daniel and Ben

Daniel has also spoken about being an executive producer on a potential 'Entourage' style F1 Hulu series. There was also talks about him acting- which I'm sure has since been tabled since he's back on the grid.

Outside of his ventures, he has a fair bit of personal sponsors; OKX, Optus, SeaDoo, GoPro, Beats by Dre, EA Sports and Thorne.

Our little Money Badger is doing well for himself

I'm sure this list isn't exhaustive because he seems to like to have his little bitten cuticle fingers (adorably affectionate) in a bunch of things. So I'll update as more ventures get released I guess

[mooncello]

I've got some words to share with you all today. Unfortunately, nothing from more than a footnote, though I'm finally feeling some energy again to write that last chapter. I've been waiting to get creatively energized because my boys deserve that. I had really wanted to publish before I have surgery in less than a month, but that is looking less and less likely. I do have a goal to at least get a draft to my betas by then. So, we'll see.

Recently, I've been spending most of my creative time with original fiction, and I wanna give a little wave to @whatevertheweather for their support and enthusiasm. Our basecamp nights are frequently the highlight of my week, and I truly don't think I'd attempt this mountain, if not for you. Here's to being absolutely feral over our guys.

Okay, words! Today I thought I'd provide actual written evidence of my gift fic for my beloved @cutestkilla. We're gonna forget what exchange this fic was supposed to be for and embrace the open-ended nature of this delivery date. Will it be spring? Will it be summer? Y'all, I have no idea. But the wait will (hopefully) be worth it. The lightest of spice under the cut.

"Take off your clothes," Baz says. Sid pushes from the wall, those hungry, blue eyes not once leaving Baz's face. He removes his shirt in one fluid motion, then hooks his fingers in the loops of his trousers and leans back against the wall, lightly thumbing the metal button. "Did you not hear me?" Baz asks. "Oh, I did." Sid sends that tiny, infuriating grin again. "I'm just enjoying myself. You can't rush art, kitten." "Are you ... comparing yourself to art?" Sid's grin goes chesire wide. He moves from the wall and walks deeper into the hotel room, toward the king-size bed. "Why don't you tell me? You're the expert."

Art thief Baz is hella fun to write. And Sid (Simon?) is an absolute punk.🤘 It's coming along, Dre, I swear.

thanks to @monbons and @rimeswithpurple for the tags today.

tags and ✌️:

@drowninginships @valeffelees @run-for-chamo-miles @blackberrysummerblog @orange-peony

@youarenevertooold @shrekgogurt, @hushed-chorus @whatevertheweather, @cutestkilla

@you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @artsyunderstudy, @emeryhall, @imagineacoolusername

@iamamythologicalcreature, @bookish-bogwitch @thewholelemon, @best--dress, @rimeswithpurple

@ileadacharmedlife @skeedelvee, @monbons, @alexalexinii

@theimpossibledemon, @brilla-brilla-estrellita, @larkral, @messofthejess, @talentpiper11

@fiend-for-culture, @ebbpettier + anyone else who would like to join

[alicia-18]

Second Choice — Eminem x reader

Summary; Y/N was used to being a second choice to everyone, so it didn’t surprise her at all when Marshall broke off their situationship in order to give things a try with Kim again. But she was surprised by the emotions that came with it.

Warning; this fic will include mentions of domestic violence (not between Em and Y/N), drug and alcohol abuse, adult content, swearing, idiots in love, and moments where you hate both Eminem and yourself :)

Chapter Three; Please lemme taste you Slim Shady!

You were sure you were destined for embarrassment when you turned up to the studio on Monday afternoon. You didn't think anything could penetrate your powerful come down mixed with a hangover from hell, but seeing four men huddled round a laptop in Dre's production room had your cheeks flaring.

"I didn't know you were such a big Stan, Y/N." 50 grinned toothily, turning the laptop so the viral video of her from two nights ago blared. You winced at the loud noise and the memory, but crept closer to watch it. One of your friends at the club videoed you dancing and singing on the table with your best friend to the song Em had just released featuring Nate Dogg. Shake that was the epitome of 'club banger', and it seemed that when completely drunk and on various other substances, you somehow knew most of the words.

You turned to your friend singing "Now I hope you don't get mad at me but I told Nate you was a freak." whilst swinging your hips, a huge smile on your face. Your cocktail glass swished, a large content of the liquid spilling out.

You friend grabbed your shoulders and spun you around so you could grind your ass against her whilst she pretended to do you from behind. Your skirt barely covered anything as she sang "He said he wants a slut, hope you don't mind, I told him how you like it from behind." You both cackled as she bounced her pelvis against you, the sound barely heard over the loud music. How your little skirt continued to cover you was simply a miracle as you and your friend began shaking your ass expertly to the chorus.

You cringed at the video, and groaned loudly as you covered your face with your hands. The men all chuckled at your reaction. "Now I know why Slim kept you 'round so long, you freaky bitch." Proof grinned, earning a solid punch to his bicep. He dramatically cradled his arm and hissed, earning more chuckles from the group.

"I had way too much to drink that night, I only stopped at like 3 this mornin'. Ended up going home with some guy who couldn't even get it up." You laughed, though winced as the noise hurt your ears. Proof, Dre and 50 all laughed with you, and Dre offered you some of a blunt to try and ease your pain. You took it gratefully, smiling a little at him as you did.

"You know you're getting quite big now, shouldn't just be takin' random guys home." Marshall arched a singular brow at you as he spoke, which made you furrow your own. He appeared nonchalant, though promptly shut the laptop so the still of you shaking your ass wasn't visible.

"I'm not an idiot Em, I got a hotel. Waste of money you ask me." His lips remained pursed, seemingly thinking more than he was willing to say. Your come down made your patience wear thin, and your temper was igniting slightly below the surface. "Anyways, it's not like you have a leg to stand on. I've seen you take countless women back to your hotel over the years." 50 made an 'ooo'ing sound, causing Marshall to roll his eyes. He stood out of the chair and stretched as if he couldn't care less.

"I didn't do it much." He shrugged, making you laugh at the blatant lie.

"Oh please, when you and Kim first broke up, you took any girl back. All they had to do was—" you stepped into his personal space and lightly rested your open palm on his hard chest. He looked down at you with frowned brows, a storm brewing in his blue eyes. His look was menacing, as if he was daring you to continue. "Oh Eminem, lemme show you just how good I can make you feel." You spoke in a light, airy voice. The men in the room laughed, only spurring you on. "Or let's not forget the girl who quite literally went—" you paused to slide down on your knees, your big E/C eyes staring up at him just how that woman did — like he was a fucking god. "I can be such a good girl, please lemme taste you Slim Shady." You pouted before letting out a high pitched giggle, just as the girl did that night.

You rose to your feet and took another puff of the blunt Dre gave you before giving it back. "So I don't think you have a leg to stand on to tell me anything, Slim Shady." You spoke his alias in a nasally voice and rolled your eyes, annoyance pumping through you.

"Like I said, normal is going great." Proof muttered to Dre and 50, earning knowing chuckles in return.

"This is normal, dick. Y/N has always laughed at that shit. Now it means I get to laugh at the men she brings back that can't even get it up." He cleared his throat and reached for his Hennessy bottle from the small coffee table in the centre of the room. He took a couple big gulps, and barely winced, to avoid looking at anyone else. In all honesty, he could feel adrenaline spiking through him, and have been able to since she mentioned taking someone home. An ugly feeling reared its head inside him, a feeling he hadn't genuinely felt in a long time: jealousy. The realisation had his stomach churning and his hand digging into his sweatpants pocket to retrieve two Vicodin.

"Well I hope you idiots are gonna be normal cause I'm having a party at my place tonight." 50 grinned and swung his arm around both of their shoulders. "So why don't you two just kiss and makeup all ready?" He pushed you both together, sending you straight into Em's chest. Marshall's hands landed on your hips instinctively, his hands warm on you cold, bare skin. You stepped back immediately and glared at your friend, flipping him off.

"Asshole." You cursed, shoving around him and letting yourself into the booth. You watched as the three black men chuckled and playfully shoved a glowering Eminem. You couldn't hear what was said, but just saw Marshall's mouth move, his words instantly sobering the trio. "Come on Dre, let's get this done already." You yelled, waving your arms exasperatedly.

He pressed a button so that their voices could be heard in the booth. "Chill the fuck out, ain't our fault you went too hard this weekend." He kissed his teeth playfully, earning another middle finger.

"See you tonight baby." 50 winked, and Proof bid his goodbye too. Em, however, left without even a look in your direction. It just added to your frustration, which you just poured into finishing up your song. You swore up and down to Dre that this song had nothing to do with the ending of whatever you had with Marshall, but the more he questioned you, the less you believed yourself. You just hoped that he wouldn't think that the song was aimed at him.

MASTERLIST

[juice-plums]

You can write a story with Derek with a hard story where there is a lot of blood, abuse and ruthlessness with the reader of women please🙏🙏🙏🙏 I beg you🙏

All I Want Is You Now

Derek Goffard x !Busty, Hitwoman! Reader

Warnings: Blood, Abuse, Hair Pulling, Hard, Hate Sex, MATURE!!, Damn ya’ll some FREAKS, and I LOVE it, ask and you shall receive, as long as we can fight back, This one for you Anon and all my other Derek Enjoyers. enjoy!!

You were bound to a chair, how the fuck did you even get here?, the last thing you remember was walking down an alley getting to your target and then a group of men came and grabbed you, of course you fought back but the all banded together lifting you up in the air and hauling you against the brick wall, knocking you out instantly, you scoffed at this predicament now budging and tugging at the restraints, until you finally heard a noise, like a door closing, you hear footsteps walking to your bound self, glaring at the direction of the shoes clomping to you

You immediately seeing Derek Goffard, that spoiled, rich bitch you absolutely could not stand, he had a smug grin, looking at you, eyeing your tied body to the chair, You scoffed, glaring at him, he fucking loved that

“My birthday present must of came early, I didn’t expect to see the lovely Reader here,..bound at my will”

He said with malicious and dark intent, you continue to glare at him, your high heel clicked on the floor, this was probably his basement you were in, He simply chuckled, going to you, grabbing a fistful of your hair, making you look up at him, you groan lowly, he had a sick grin

“I wasn’t expecting my father to listen to me, cause I was rambling about how I wanted you all to myself, probably kidnapped you to get me to shut up”

He cruelly says, his fist in you hair was tight, you stare at him, your cold face never giving him a reaction, he sickly caressed your face with his other hand, he was silently admiring your features, he wanted to ruin that pretty face, he then grips your chin and smacked your cheek hard, making you grunt lowly

“I always get what I want and not a fucking thing you can do about it, You oughta know that by now”

He meanly say, patting you face in a mockingly manner, his teal, blue eyes locked with your eyes, You scoffed, harshly tugging my at the restraints that held you down, he licked his fang, enjoying seeing you struggle, the hard hitwoman he wanted for so long, now struggling to break free, he released your chin, walking back to the darkness to grab something, you continued to pull and struggle against the restraints, he then pulled out a gun on you, making you stop and glare more at him

“Are you gonna kill me?”

You ask, not scared, no punk ass, rich man is gonna make you beg for your life, he stare at you, cocking the gun at you, he crazily but subtle smile, lowering the gun slightly, he sneakily grabbed his pocket knife, walking back to you

“Nah,… much more fun seeing you squirm and hearing your little noises”

He responds, jabbing the pocket knife blade into your knee, you yelp loudly as he twisted the knife deep into your knee, your leg desperate to kick him away bust bound the the rope that restrained you, blood gushing down the front of your lower leg, you grit your teeth as he crazily stared at your anguish face in pain

“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot”

he breathlessly said, now prying the pocket knife out of your leg, causing blood to gush out more, you groan lowly and loudly at the same time, he crazily stares at you, your breathing hard and you bit you lip, he then licks your bloody knee up, you gasp in shock, OH THIS BITCH IS A FREAK, he’s licking the blood hungrily off your knee, feeling his warm tongue licking up blood on your stinging wound

you were stunned at this erotic display,..holy shit, Derek wanted to become one with you, he was utterly obsessed, he couldn’t explain it, he then cuts off the restraints on your legs, forcefully holding them apart, lifts your dress up, forcefully pulling down your panties, it was so fat, you couldn’t even react until his tongue was swirling around your pearl of your pussy, making you yelp, the chair creaks

“Wait a minute-ah!~”

You moan, biting your lip, he continues to messily slurp and suck on your pussy with no shame, his face buried in between your thighs, his nails digging into your bare bum so you could not shake, tingles now flowing through your body as he sucks your pussy, eating you out as nice as he could, Derek was in absolute heaven eating your gooey cunt, he dreamt of what your pussy would taste like, plus with some of your knee blood, his cock was straining against his pressed pants, only he could unleash his inner freak with someone who’s equally fucked up as him

You were moaning your head off, his tongue invading your pussy folds, your gasps and breaths whorishly, you know you should resist him but God, his tongue was addictive, no wonder he had women all over him when you see him, your arms still bound, you felt a bubble form in your lower gut

“Oooh fuuck, don’t you dare stop, make me cum all over your stupid, pretty face!”

You moan, Derek’s slurping on your pussy intensified, his cock still straining against his fresh pressed pants, his tongue working overtime on your pussy, you get louder and louder and soon creamed on his tongue, he eagerly slurps and laps up your orgasm, you breathlessly groan, he then pulled up and undid the binds that held your arms away, he eagerly pushed you to the floor, his body engulfing yours, you two eagerly kissing, your tongues slurp and suck, you ruffled his blond hair

“C’mere…give me those stupid pretty lips, give me all of you, let me just melt into you

You seductively whisper, kissing his lips sweetly and passionately, his greedy hands roaming onto your body, kissing you with just as much passion, he’s wanted you for so long and now he finally got what you right where he wants you, he sits on his knees and cock out his 9inch, uncut cock from his pants, your eyes widen fr the sheer size of him, you bit your lower lip, submissively spreading your legs for him, he grins and slips up your dress further more

then with quick speed he buried his cock to the hilt in your pussy in one whole thrust, you groan feeling his cock stretch and mold your pussy instantly, you gripped his shoulders, he seared kissed your lips as he dominantly thrusts in and out your wet pussy, he raised your legs to the ceiling, loud squelching and skin slapping heard in the room, he was getting all in your guts

“Don’t you dare stop, Make me only think about your cock!~, Fill me up to the fucking brim!~”

You seductively babble, your toes curling from the exquisite pleasure coursing through your entire body, his massive cock plunging in and out of your sweet hole is all he could think about

“Give ya a real nice, good dickin!, that’s all you ever needed in the first place, my good slut, tighten up!”

He seductively groan, lightly gripping your throat that made your eyes roll back, you obeyed and tightened your pussy up for him, hot tears of pleasure slip down from your eyes, he loved how debauched you looked, he looked absolutely feral to you, a sexy feral man taking what he wants, his hand around your throat was making your pussy more gooey and sloppy

“such a tight, slutty hole, this pussy belongs to me now, I’ll fuck it whenever and however I want!, I’ll make you a Mrs. Goffard”

He Dominantly growled, fucking your pussy with inhumane strength at this point, your vision blurred and your screaming got louder as he rams against your cervix making you squirt every where, he moans loudly and rides his cumming cock in and out, spraying every where and making a mess

“slutty pussy made a fucking mess”

He pants, you passionately kissed him, he reciprocated, slipping his wet, leaking cock out of your pussy, you gasp and whined softly feeling empty and kissed him more, So after that you two became a pair all right, a freaky couple that could not keep their hands off each other, it was known that he was yours and you were his, he also was not bluffing about making you Mrs. Goffard, he was totally going to.

[cinelestial]

Apple Music’s ‘100 Best Albums of All Time’ list:

#1. Lauryn Hill — The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill

#2. Michael Jackson — Thriller

#3. The Beatles — Abbey Road

#4. Prince & The Revolution — Purple Rain

#5. Frank Ocean — Blonde

#6. Stevie Wonder — Songs in the Key of Life

#7. Kendrick Lamar — good kid, m.A.A.d city

#8. Amy Winehouse — Back to Black

#9. Nirvana — Nevermind

#10. Beyoncé — Lemonade

#11. Fleetwood Mac — Rumours

#12. Radiohead — OK Computer

#13. Jay-Z — The Blueprint

#14. Bob Dylan — Highway 61 Revisited

#15. Adele — 21

#16. Joni Mitchell — Blue

#17. Marvin Gaye — What’s Going On

#18. Taylor Swift — 1989 (Taylor’s Version)

#19. Dr. Dre — The Chronic

#20. The Beach Boys — Pet Sounds

#21. The Beatles — Revolver

#22. Bruce Springsteen — Born to Run

#23. Daft Punk — Discovery

#24. David Bowie — The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars

#25. Miles Davis — Kind of Blue

#26. Kanye West — My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy

#27. Led Zeppelin — Led Zeppelin II

#28. Pink Floyd — The Dark Side of the Moon

#29. A Tribe Called Quest — The Low End Theory

#30. Billie Eilish — WHEN WE ALL FALL ASLEEP, WHERE DO WE GO?

#31. Alanis Morissette — Jagged Little Pill

#32. The Notorious B.I.G. — Ready to Die

#33. Radiohead — Kid A

#34. Public Enemy — It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back

#35. The Clash — London Calling

#36. Beyoncé — BEYONCÉ

#37. Wu-Tang Clan — Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)

#38. Carole King — Tapestry

#39. Nas — Illmatic

#40. Aretha Franklin — I Never Loved a Man the Way I Love You

#41. OutKast — Aquemini

#42. Janet Jackson — Control

#43. Talking Heads — Remain in Light

#44. Stevie Wonder — Innervisions

#45. Björk — Homogenic

#46. Bob Marley & The Wailers — Exodus

#47. Drake — Take Care

#48. Beastie Boys — Paul’s Boutique

#49. U2 — The Joshua Tree

#50. Kate Bush — Hounds of Love

#51. Prince — Sign O’ the Times

#52. Guns N' Roses — Appetite for Destruction

#53. The Rolling Stones — Exile on Main St.

#54. John Coltrane — A Love Supreme

#55. Rihanna — ANTI

#56. The Cure — Disintegration

#57. D’Angelo — Voodoo

#58. Oasis — (What’s the Story) Morning Glory?

#59. Arctic Monkeys — AM

#60. The Velvet Underground & Nico — The Velvet Underground and Nico

#61. Sade — Love Deluxe

#62. 2Pac — All Eyez on Me

#63. The Jimi Hendrix Experience — Are You Experienced?

#64. Erykah Badu — Baduizm

#65. De La Soul — 3 Feet High and Rising

#66. The Smiths — The Queen Is Dead

#67. Portishead — Dummy

#68. The Strokes — Is This It

#69. Metallica — Master of Puppets

#70. N.W.A — Straight Outta Compton

#71. Kraftwerk — Trans-Europe Express

#72. SZA — SOS

#73. Steely Dan — Aja

#74. Nine Inch Nails — The Downward Spiral

#75. Missy Elliott — Supa Dupa Fly

#76. Bad Bunny — Un Verano Sin Ti

#77. Madonna — Like a Prayer

#78. Elton John — Goodbye Yellow Brick Road

#79. Lana Del Rey — Norman F*****g Rockwell!

#80. Eminem — The Marshall Mathers LP

#81. Neil Young — After the Gold Rush

#82. 50 Cent — Get Rich or Die Tryin'

#83. Patti Smith — Horses

#84. Snoop Dogg — Doggystyle

#85. Kacey Musgraves — Golden Hour

#86. Mary J. Blige — My Life

#87. Massive Attack — Blue Lines

#88. Nina Simone — I Put a Spell on You

#89. Lady Gaga — The Fame Monster

#90. AC/DC — Back in Black

#91. George Michael — Listen Without Prejudice, Vol. 1

#92. Tyler, The Creator — Flower Boy

#93. Solange — A Seat at the Table

#94. Burial — Untrue

#95. Usher — Confessions

#96. Lorde — Pure Heroine

#97. Rage Against the Machine — Rage Against the Machine

#98. Travis Scott — ASTROWORLD

#99. Eagles — Hotel California

#100. Robyn — Body Talk

[tragedybunny]

A Merry Little Solstice - Astarion x F!Reader - BG3HolidayFluffle23 - Prompt: Chosen Family

So excited to participate in the Challenge, not sure if I'll get to more than one piece but I love this one I did. Thanks to @rachelle-on-the-run for the Beta!

Summary: Even though you and Astarion have been together a few years, this is the first time you'll be celebrating Solstice together, for a very special reason. The two of you are doing your best to make it a warm and wonderful celebration.

“What do you think?” Astarion is fussing over the distribution of small, glass ornaments and candles on the large pine tree taking up most of your parlor. 

“I think it looks wonderful, Star.” You can already see his tendency for the grandiose creeping in, and don’t want him to worry about overdoing it. At least you’d convinced him to close down the bookshop, the two of you ran out of the building next door for a few days while you celebrate. It was a newer venture that you had taken on lately, as you’d settled down in Baldur’s Gate after a few years of adventuring. 

“I suppose, the tree could be a bit bigger, though,” he mumbles, shifting a few of the baubles around. All the effort, and probably a good amount of nerves, making him prickly. 

“It’s plenty big, and Jaheira didn’t have to grow it for us.” The pine had been a little seedling, given the growth of years in moments by Druid magic. 

“Well, it was Mother’s idea in the first, so we could celebrate Solstice properly.” Mother, he says sarcastically, like he doesn’t grin when she calls him nicknames or get teary-eyed when she hugs him good-bye to go out on Harper business. There wasn’t any grand declaration when Jaheira decided she was adopting Astarion with the rest of her brood, but there was no stopping her from embracing it when she’d made up her mind. Not that it hasn’t done him a world of good, even if he doesn’t always like to admit it. 

“My Love, it was your idea to actually celebrate Solstice this year.” Astarion had, until this year, not been very fond of Holidays. A stance you decided you could live with, as your own experiences hadn’t been very warm and wonderful. This year, though, things were different. “The tree looks wonderful,”  a sudden little squeal followed by soft babbling came from the bassinet behind you, “and Estelle thinks so too.” It was Estelle’s first Solstice, and you both had decided it was time to make some better Holiday memories. 

Astarion hurries to retrieve her before she can demand it. He’s notorious for baby hoarding, and sometimes you have to remind him it’s your turn to hold the child you gave birth too. “You’re hardly qualified to have an opinion, Sweetie.” He wags his finger in front of her nose, and she grabs it quickly in return with a happy little trill, refusing to let go. 

When you’d first been able to lay eyes on her, it was already apparent she was a miniature version of Astarion, his features, pale skin, and wispy white hair that had grown into the beginnings of lush curls. The only thing that looked like you were bright blue eyes, which had relieved him to no end. “Red eyes would mark her as different far too obviously.” It was nice to see one part of yourself in her, though you didn’t mind that she was so much of him. 

Estelle was now suckling on Astarion’s outstretched finger. “Close to feeding time, you’ll have to relinquish her for a little,” you give him a saucy smile and settle on the couch to prep. 

Apparently he didn’t move quick enough for your offspring, as he hisses and gives Estelle the weakest glare you’ve ever seen him make. “Everyone is always telling me biting without permission is rude, I hardly think it’s fair you get away with it, Little Lady.” 

“Think of it as repayment for past misdeed,” you laugh as you begin to open your shirt.

“Are you still holding that night against me, my dearest wife? That’s ruthlessly unfair,” he settles next to you, waiting for you to finish before putting Estelle in your arms. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it, darling husband” you bat your eyes at him and play innocent until you feel the stinging bite of the two tiny teeth she's recently grown.  Estelle is apparently equitably minded about causing pain this evening. “Ouch,” you whisper, not wanting to disturb her evening meal. 

Beside you, Astarion’s mood visibly falters. “What are we going to do when she grows fangs?”

You certainly aren't looking forward to it, but the love of your life was still considerably nervous about what the future would hold for your little Dhampir. “What we always do, get through it.”

“You're very confident.”

“Well, I did save the world once.”

He finally gives you a smile. “We, Darling, I was there too. I suppose you're right, though.” He turns his attention to intently watching his daughter nurse. “We've come this far.” Leaning in, he gives you a gentle kiss on the cheek, carefully not to upset her. “Besides the tree, how does everything else look?” 

The parlor, dining room, hallway, and library had all been draped in festive boughs of evergreen with golden ribbon and strands of silvery beads. It was just this side of too much, but it was very Astarion. “Everything looks fantastic, Love. It's going to be a wonderful holiday. Now we’ll just have to keep Scratch and Midnight out of it.” 

“Speak for your own mutt,” Scratch whined where he lay in front of the crackling fire place. “Midnight is a perfectly well-behaved tressym.” 

Midnight, the tressym that had prowled Szarr manor, the Spawn siblings had kept their fondness for the creature from Cazador. They’d decided not to take her into the Underdark, and she’d ended up in your custody along with Scratch. She was, despite Astarion’s protests, not perfect. “Oh, I’m sure, she’s never any trouble.” 

“Hush,” he pretended to pout before sighing. “Odd that I get to walk in the sun again, and now we're celebrating the longest night of the year.” He gave the room one last appraising glance. “Gods, we’re really going to squeeze everyone in here.”

“At least Halsin promised to leave the Owlbear behind.” Estelle had finished eating and Astarion passed you a cloth to burp her with. 

“Gale still insisted on coming early to cook. We could handle it, you know.” The complaints tell you he really is quite nervous. 

“We could, or we could spend more time with Little Lady here,” who punctuated your words with an undignified burp. 

“Point taken Sunlight.” You pass Estelle to his waiting arms so you can close your shirt.

In the soft candlelight of the winter evening, Astarion looks absolutely ethereal. For a precious few moments, you just study him and your daughter. Since the moment she was born, he'd absolutely adored her. Fear still haunted him, fear her life would be too difficult as a Dhampir, fear he would fail as a father, but he tried his best every day. And those days when he did falter, when bad memories surfaced, when his temper was short, you were by his side. Not that you didn't have your share of fears and shadows from your past, but you knew he'd be there for you the way you were for him. Your bond made you both stronger. 

Right now, though, everything felt perfect. It was going to be the happiest Solstice you'd even known. 

A few days later saw you up before dawn on the morning of Solstice. Estelle had decided it was play time at an ungodly hour and now you, Astarion, and Scratch, were all gathered around a blanket spread on your parlor rug entertaining her. Your attention wanders for a moment, and she squeals at you. “Oh, I know, you have to be the center of the universe. You're very much your Father’s daughter,” you reach down and tickle her tummy. 

“Or maybe she knows she's worth it, like her Mother,” he blows you a kiss and your heart flutters like the first time you let him sink his teeth into you. 

“Flattery…” an unexpected knock at the door interrupts you. 

Scratch lets out a quiet bark, careful not to startle Estelle. He learned quickly that a scared baby is a crying baby. “This early? The wizard has finally lost his mind.” 

You both get to your feet, exchanging looks, it is unexpectedly early for Gale. Taking Estelle, you hang back as Astarion opens the door, Scratch at his side, ever vigilant. 

Gale stands in pre-dawn darkness, one magical chest in his hand that contains everything you'll need for today. “You know, it's still dark out? We could've been asleep.” Astarion stares at him with narrowed eyes. 

“Ah, but I see you are all awake and in good spirits,” he smiles awkwardly, and you get the impression that he's working up to something. “Besides, it was entirely necessary to arrive before dawn…”

“Really?” Astarion crosses his arms, waiting for further explanation. 

“Astarion,” you kiss his cheek, “don't be so cross with him.”

“Give it a moment,” Gale mutters, and you both turn to him. “I mean that is…well…” 

“Hells Gale,” a pale figure steps into the doorway with him, one that you recognize. 

“Dal?” Astarion asks, and you can see confusion starting to give way to realization. 

“Hello Astarion.”

“Alright, no use you two standing out in the cold, come in.” You look directly at Dalyria, a little unsure if the invitation needs renewal every so often. “Both of you.” 

The two of them waste no time stepping inside and quickly closing the door behind them, shutting you off from the cold of the early morning.

Estelle coos happily at the company. “And hello to you too, my sweet little niece. She's getting so big.” Some of the siblings had made the trek up from the Underdark when Estelle was born, Dalyria among them. It was a strange dynamic of almost family that years after Cazador’s death they were still working out.

“Yes, yes, she's endlessly adorable. She is mine, after all. Now, what the bloody hell are the two of you doing here together?” His voice pitches up at the end, a sign he's exasperated. You almost lose your composure and giggle at his inability to see the obvious. 

“Well, as it happens…” Gale inhales like he's about to launch into a very long-winded explanation. 

“We've been seeing each other since your wedding. It felt like it was time to tell you.” To emphasize her point, she hooks her arm in Gale's.

“I see.” Astarion shoots you a look to see if you knew about this, and is evidently satisfied by your shrug. 

“Don't be cross brother,” Dalyria lets go of Gale to pull him into a sudden hug, that he returns after a moment. “We just wanted to wait until we were sure of things”

“Fine,” he sighs dramatically. “I suppose you're forgiven.”

She kisses his cheek and releases him. “Thank you. Now, to not take away from the little daylight you'll get today, is there a place I can wait it out?”

“Estelle and I can show you up to the guest room,” you motion for her to follow. All the rooms in your house had shutters thick enough to block out the sun, remnants of Astarion’s recently relieved nocturnal life. 

The guest room is a cozy little room tucked under the eves of the house, the last bedroom remaining after Estelle’s nursery was created out of the previous guest room. “Sorry, it’s a bit small.” 

“Still better than a night in the Kennels, I’d wager,” she laughs.

Her words make you wince, sometimes you forget they all shared in the same torment, maybe not as often as Astarion, but still. “I imagine. I’m-” 

“Don’t, I’m just making light of it.” You’ve never quite gotten to know her and the others all that well, your trips to the Underdark being sporadic at best, but now you glimpse that unbroken will that led her to look for a cure to her condition. “This is very nice of you, Gale and I will be perfectly comfortable.” 

“We’ll come back up and check in once I’ve turned Gale loose in the kitchen,” Estelle shouts her agreement. 

“Send my brother up if he needs a time-out from Gale.” The two of you laugh, and you head back downstairs, worried about that exact thing. 

Astarion doesn’t disappoint as you find him in the kitchen, the first pink light of dawn peeping  through the window, lending a flush to his skin as he pins Gale against a wall, dagger drawn. “And another thing, if ever even think of trying to compare her to Mystra...”

To his credit, Gale stands calmly, hands raised, and look imploringly at you. “I think you've gotten your point across, Love.”

“Fine,” he sighs dramatically and releases your wizard friend. The dagger quickly disappears, you've learned over time that he never really got out of the habit of keeping one hidden on himself. “And you owe me at least two books back, my shop is not a library.” 

“Right,” Gale straightens his clothing. “Now that's all settled, let's get started.” He hefts the small chest onto the kitchen table, and opens it. A space larger than the outside is contained within, a larder to do even the Grand Duke's shame. “I hope I remembered everything.”

The next several hours see the three of you prepping, roasting, sautéing, simmering, and baking. Although Gale truthfully does most of the heavy lifting, you and Astarion are both very much middling still when it comes to the kitchen. You take turns playing assistant, passing Estelle between the two of you, and Astarion pops up to visit Dal. 

The sun is just on its way down when there's another knock at the door. The first of the evening's guests, Astarion goes to answer it while you continue to stir the sauce Gale had declared a “flavor near divine”. 

“Bat pup!” The unmistakable voice of Jaheira fill the house.

“Hello Mother,” Astarion replies warmly. 

The Mother thing had actually begun as a joke. During the time trying to defeat the Absolute, one of Astarion’s petulant comments had prompted Jaheira to tell him if he was going to act like a child, she would put him over her knee like one. He’d responded with a sarcastic, “yes Mother”, and an eye roll. 

“Better, Cub,” Jaheira had laughed, unfazed by his antics. When he insisted she not call him Cub she looked at him and smiled. “You’re right, Bat Pup is much more suitable.” They’d been that way since, the tone of it softening over time. Despite his age, all the time spent as Cazador’s slave and not really living had left Astarion closer mentally to who he was at his time of death, where Jaheira was very much the sum total of her life experience. 

“And there’s my favorite little troublemaker.” You can hear Estelle’s excited trill for her “grandmother”. You’ll give them a few minutes to catch up.  

Involuntarily, you smile as you keep a close watch on the sauce. “A wonderful sound, isn’t it?” You turn to Gale, giving him a puzzled look at his words. “The sound of happiness,” his eyes twinkle at the words. “If you had told me years ago that Astarion would be happy and content as a family man with a bookshop, I would have laughed. But here we are.” 

“So would I, if we’re being honest.” A part of you remembers a clandestine confession from him, intentionally far away from Astarion’s hearing. Feelings you couldn’t return. “I’m glad you found someone too, Gale.” 

“Indeed. Sometimes the things we think we want most aren’t the things we need. A lesson I’ve learned more than a few times. Although it didn’t take me nearly as long to learn that as much as it seemed Astarion needed you, you needed him too.” For a moment, the two of you are lost in memories of that harrowing time. “Ah, but let me save myself from distraction and monitor this roast. The others will be arriving soon. And you should go visit with Jaheira before she has to go back to the other children.” He gives you a warm smile and shoos you away. 

“Helps with the pain of those little teeth coming in. I’ve got a few growing, I should be able to keep you stocked.” 

Reaching the parlor, you find Estelle, happily chewing on some plant leaf in Jaheira’s lap and Astarion looking like he’s fighting the urge to snatch her back. The two of you had a serious talk about this holiday celebration and letting other people hold her for more than a few seconds. “There’s my Cub, the famous hero.”

“Hello Crow,” you’d never been able to think of her in the same maternal sense as Astarion, your own motherly relationship was so messy it bled into any others. Truthfully it had made you nervous as to what it would be like to be a mother, but the sound of Estelle’s first cries had soothed away any lingering doubts, you may not be perfect at it, but you would fight for her happiness every day. “She looks like she’s having a good time,” you gesture to Estelle and the leaf. 

“That’s the best Solstice gift so far. It was a nightmare when the first two came through, and I know others will be starting soon. I see you’re managing to behave yourself, Love,” you kiss Astarion’s cheek to emphasize your approval as you sit next to him.

“As if she wouldn’t entangle me or some nonsense if I didn’t let her hold the grandchild. But then again, she is getting a bit old, maybe she’s slowed down.” 

“Watch yourself Astarion or you will find out what I’m still capable of.” 

The sun is sinking behind the horizon as the last of the shortest day of the year comes to a close. Dalyria descends to join you all, Midnight nestled in her arms, the tressym deigning to leave her attic kingdom for once. Astarion stokes the fireplace, leaving the room in a warm glow. Scratch immediately gives up on the vigil he’s been keeping at the kitchen door to lay in front of the fire. 

Underneath the tree, brightly colored presents wait for unwrapping. There’s a knock on the door as the next of your friends arrive. Over the next hour, they all show up. Lae’zel and Shadowheart, newly engaged and figuring out just what sort of wedding a Gith and Half-Elf should have. Wyll and Karlch, lovers and heroes of the Sword Coast now that they’ve returned permanently from Avernus. Minsc and Boo, very much in Holiday Spirit. And finally Halsin, unexpectedly with a shy looking Drow man on his arm. “I hope one more isn’t imposing,” he says with a nervous yet excited smile. “This is Veltris.” 

“We can make work,” truthfully you’re terribly intrigued by the man who has Halsin so clearly smitten and you lead them inside to join the others.

Someone has passed a wine bottle around the parlor now heating up with all the bodies gathered there. Astarion has a dosing Estelle back in his arms, who somehow is undisturbed by the chatter all around. “Try this,” Dalyria passes him a glass poured from a distinct blue bottle, “I’m preserving blood for long term storage.” 

He makes a face but keeps drinking. “I suppose it is better than nothing.” 

You settle back down next to him, taking a glass Wyll has passed you. “Always the gentleman,” you smile at him. 

“Does he do more than kiss your hand behind close doors?” You’ll never get over Lae’zel’s sense of humor. 

“Well, not always,” Karlach gives you a wink.

“Do tell?” Shadowheart teases.

“I’ll have you know…” Wyll tries to defend himself.

‘My daughter is right here!” Astarion huffs. “Gods, Gale had better finish dinner soon before you all get any more wine in you.” 

“As it just so happens,” the Wizard appears in the doorway of your dining room. 

“Finally,” Astarion huffs. 

The others get up and start making their toward the wafting scent of a mouthwatering feast. “Minsc hopes you have made enough for Boo’s tremendous appetite!”

“I had better go before the young ones burn the house down,” Jaheira leans over to give Astarion a hug. “Behave yourself Bat Pup, and you too Cub,” she gives you a last wave and heads to the door. 

You start to get up to follow the others, and Astarion grips your hand. “What is it?” For a moment, you worry something has gone wrong.

His head leans on your shoulder. “Nothing, it’s just…” The silence leaves your heart heavy with worry. “Everything is so perfect, more than I ever thought possible.” You can hear the tears in his voice, but don’t say anything, he doesn’t always like to draw attention to large emotions. “A holiday with you, and Estelle, and all of them, a family.” 

“Our family, Starry Sky, and this is the first of many to come.” 

The two of you take a quick moment for yourselves, basking in the glow of the fire, and the perfect Solstice evening with the ones you love. 

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