#thank you so much Coi I love it 💜

[ink-and-dagger]

AAAAH Coi I love it I love it I love it

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

Honestly I’m so honoured that you took time to create this for me, and that you’re re-reading my silly ol fic as inspiration for your own.

I love the Piltover Bullshit™️ plaque 💀

Also is that your irl handwriting at the top there? Because if so I’m extremely aroused by the way you write the letter f that’s a sexy f

"The tradition spans back so many generations that no one knows anymore who first started it. There’s an old wives tale, that the circular base of the fountain used to be smaller, but that it’s grown in circumference over the years due to the ever mounting layers of white paint they’ve had to add to cover the relentless markings."

I've been rereading "Drink With Me" by @ink-and-dagger to help get me inspired to finish TMSA. I felt compelled to bring the image of the fountain tradition to life, so I drew this. ("Drew?" I traced a Wikimedia commons fountain picture and then colored it. Does that count as drawing???)

Anyway, have some DWM fanart that doesn't have people cause I do better with objects than people lol

[arcielee]

Devotion

Summary: You are a Targaryen princess with an infatuation on a certain White Cloak. Paring: Ser Erryk Cargyll x Targaryen!Reader Word Count: 5.7k+ Warnings: AFAB Reader, neglect, angst, unrequited love?, kissing, fingering, unprotected p in v, more angst, oral sex (m and f receiving), a mother's reprimand, lots of blood, death, more angst Author’s Note: Thank you my beloved beta reader @zaldritzosrose for looking this over and helping me this story. I Mushroom-tweaked it to fit the angsty plot. This started as an anon request and unfolded into so much more. It is dedicated to my darling @opheliax98 who encouraged "all the drama" of this piece. I hope it you enjoy it. 💜 You can also read it on ao3.

Your mother decided that you would return to the Red Keep as an envoy, because of your ability to hide in plain sight despite the poisoned word that first followed your steps–ilībōños, bastard. It was the same that was thrown towards your half-brothers, but with a tone as bold as their brown curls and brown eyes; they did not have the fortune of their Valyrian roots to hide under, their features often speculated as too Strong. 

You, however, were the first, albeit illegitimate, born of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen, conceived the same night that her virtue was called into question. 

There was a bitter speculation of your origins that faded away with your birth; you were another nameless Targaryen princess that would decorate the family tapestry, another egg that turned to stone in the crib. Life in the capitol was lonely for you; your father was away in Pentos with his new family, while your mother remained preoccupied with her White Cloak, and then her Gold Cloak and new husband. There was an age gap between you and your brothers, your nephews and your niece, and it was an isolating chasm that placed you as an outsider, a spectator, with the unfocused eyes of the court looking through you. 

Your only company was your handmaiden, Elinda, but her loyalties reported back to your mother, and then your Septa, but her complaints were ceaseless, especially as you learned the pathways that Maegor the Cruel had carved into the Keep; they became your escape from her lessons. 

It was then your mother requested a knight from the Kingsguard to watch over you, and you mourned the little bit of independence acquired, assuming you would be assigned someone old, doddy, who served as another set of eyes that would only look through you. 

You were not expecting Ser Erryk Cargyll. 

To begin, he was only three years older than you–it was said his swordsmanship so impressed the Lord Commander that he also recruited his twin brother, bringing them both to King's Landing to serve in the Kingsguard. He was handsome, standing tall behind your mother, long and lithe. His ruddy complexion brought out the blue-gray of his eyes that showed unsure, almost shy with the introductions. 

You smiled at him and his lips curled upwards in response, a rose dusting to his cheeks. 

You liked him at once.

He was devoted to your shadow, almost rapt to your beck and call. The attention fed your girlish infatuation with the young knight, and you were always teasing him in a way that teetered on the edge of his duty and his oath with your coy questions and smirk. Ser Erryk was rarely rattled by you, but seemed more amused–he would answer you with a frank tone, a welcomed honesty, that ended with your title: it was always, “Yes, princess,” or “I shall see to it, princess.” 

It continued on for months until one evening, as he escorted you to your room, you asked him to call you by your name, to set aside the formality. You saw the brilliant blue of his eyes, bright amongst the flush of his features; his tongue wet his lips, searching for his voice. “I could never do that, princess,” he started slowly, his eyes flickering up again to look at you as if for the first time. You saw the dust of his freckles that burned bright against his skin. “My purpose is to keep you safe.” 

His voice was low, so serious, and it made your blood rise to the surface. You tried to laugh it off. “My purpose is to wait around until I am able to marry the highest bidder.” It was something that weighed heavy on your heart; your eyes fell away and your fingers grasped into the fabric of your skirts. “I know I will not be missed within these walls once I am gone.” 

“That’s not true, princess.” 

It startled you, and you peered back up from underneath your lashes, your heart vibrating against your skin. You watched Ser Erryk choke on his boldness, his regret knotting into his face before he settled on silence. You watched him go, the muted ensemble of his armor as he returned to the barracks below. 

That moment created something palpable that pressed overhead. You were too young, too rash to even know how to tactfully touch the subject again. The forced return to your norm left your bones aching; Ser Erryk doted on your steps, and you rambled on to drown out the incessant screaming of your heart within your chest. 

It spilled over at Driftmark. Your family went for the Velaryon funeral procession for Daemon’s wife, feeding further into the resentment that rifted within the house of the dragon. You slipped away and found Aegon in his cups, deciding to steal some of the liquid courage. When Ser Erryk found you, your eyes were glassy and your cheeks flushed. 

He sighed, shaking his head, reaching to help you stand, but you swore you saw the hint of a smile touching his lips. Ser Erryk said nothing, but wrapped his arm around your waist and matched his gait with your staggered steps to your room. You rested your head on his shoulders, enjoyed his smell of olive oil used on his sword and how it mixed with his perspiration. 

At the door, you felt his breath tickle your ear, “I will not speak of this to the crowned princess, but you should get some rest–” 

You spun to face him, your hands pushing on his breastplate to steady yourself on your tiptoes and pressing your lips to meet with his. Ser Erryk froze with your kiss, his White Cloak tightening like a vice. His palms were rough, but he was gentle to wrap your elbows and pull you back, his gaze rooting you to cobblestone. 

Moments ticked away with your beating heart that was now bruising against your bones before he finally said, “I cannot give you what you truly deserve, princess.” 

He said nothing else and your embarrassment fed the fire in your blood. You pulled away from him and slipped into your room, careful to close your door. Your back pressed against the carvings of sea creatures into the oak and you melted to the floor, your tears spilling to ease your girlish heartache. 

Elsewhere on the island, a dragon was claimed and bloodshed followed. The walls rattled as the king proclaimed his true loyalty and it ended with you being whisked away to Dragonstone. It was for the best, you decided, to leave your broken heart behind. You felt the tinge of hope when you learned that your mother and your father were finally together, and decided to set aside your infatuation of the White Cloak, but instead focus to aid your mother, to help solidify what your grandsire, King Viserys, had proclaimed to the Seven Realms. 

That she was to be queen. 

It had been six years since you last been at King’s Landing. It was now a place both familiar and strange. The same architecture rose above, shadowing over Blackwater Bay, though inside your ancestry of Old Valyria had been replaced, the Keep becoming a shrine to the new gods who had not yet paid their dues for such a show of devotion. 

As you entered through the Barbican, you smirked at the memory of the girl you were before, only ten and five, on the cusp of womanhood that required your gowns to be stitched to fit your slender frame. Now your figure filled your dresses, your curves pressing to the seams and your hair twisted and styled to showcase the dragonblood in your veins, that shined in the amethyst of your eyes. 

The queen was first to come and greet you. The handmaidens selected were controlled by Elinda, who watched their flurry to unpack. You looked up to see her lips pursed, her dark brown eyes washed over like you were a specter coming to haunt, like she wished for the earth to swallow you whole. 

“It has been requested–” her tone was queenly, but you noted that she would not mention how it was your mother that penned her a letter, “–for you to have a knight assigned. I was advised that Ser Erryk has served this role before.” 

His name caused your blood to roar in your head as you turned to watch him enter the room. Ser Erryk seemed taller, or perhaps that was how he now held himself, his pride set on his shoulders and onto his features that sharpened. He was still sinewy, though he seemed to fill out the armor hammered to fit his frame, polished and gleaming in the sun that streaked through; it burned bright in his copper hair that was brushed back to show his beard trimmed to fit his jaw. 

The coloring brought out his blue-gray eyes that shined almost unsure, almost shy. 

It kindled something within you that you believed to be gone, a feeling that washed away on the shores of Dragonstone and swept to the depths of the bay, buried in the sand. 

Ser Erryk looked at you and you could not help your smile. His lips ticked upwards and you felt your pulse flutter anew, seizing your heart again. 

Your iron-clad shadow followed after your steps, a devotion renewed, and it returned the muscle memory of his constant and comforting presence as you reacquainted with the old castle. Ser Erryk accompanied your rounds to visit with Helaena and her children, watching your brief exchange with each prince, and even briefer with the king who smiled when he called you Rhaenyra. Your knight then escorted you back to your room without a word, just the chink of his armor with his steps, echoing off the stone. 

You paused in the doorway, looking back to see his stance. As he watched you, your mind flittered with words but none could knit together. “Sleep well, princess,” he finally spoke with a small bow, excusing himself. 

The room had also been stripped of your Targaryen history, almost unfamiliar despite your chests unpacked. Elinda and the other handmaidens helped prepare you for bed, and a cup of wine was poured but your stomach would not hold it down. They left you alone and your quarters were now a gilded cage to contain you; you pulled on your pale, silk robe and finished half of the goblet, summoning your old courage to slip away.

The same panel opened with ease, but inside, basked in the amber light of torch set in a sconce, stood Ser Erryk with his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Your mouth fell open and he grinned at you. “I take my oath with my heart, princess,” he reminded you. 

“How did you know–?” You stammered, licking the wine from your lips. 

He only shrugged, his eyes glittering in the fire. “You seem so very different, but also are still the same.” 

You pulled the panel closed to silence his chuckle. You finished the rest of the wine poured and returned to your bed.  

Your days at Kings Landing were idly filled. Your old Septa returned with her scrutiny of the woman you had become, her brow furrowing to find fault as you showcased your refinement of a lady mastered over the last half decade. Your afternoons were spent in the company of Helaena and her children, the only ones welcoming your return, with the littlest one, Maelor, especially taken with you. 

The time was spent in the gardens with a blanket sprawled out. Helaena would hum songs while the twins played their games. Maelor was content to sit in your lap, his eyes wide to discover whatever came within his chubby grasp. 

And Ser Erryk, your shadow, would stay close by, always. 

“He will draw his own blood to protect you.” The princess spoke suddenly, jarringly–it was a common happenstance with Helaena, you learned. Her every impertinent thought spilled off her tongue in riddles. 

Maelor’s eyes widened with his beginning grasp of the spoken word. You blew a raspberry onto his cheek to distract him, and he fell into a fit of giggles. “He would draw blood, but only if it was needed,” you corrected her, your voice low. 

Helaena only hummed in response, falling back into whatever song as she looked over the flowers that surrounded you both, watching the insects that lived amongst them. Her words remained with you, echoing in your head long after the moon began its silver stretch overhead. It guided your steps back to the panel in your room and you pushed it open. 

Ser Erryk straightened at once, his hand back on his pommel. “Princess? Why are you still–” 

You stopped him with a gentle touch on his breastplate, steadying yourself to rise on the balls of your feet until your lips pressed to his once again. But this time he responded, melting against–his lips were soft and warm, and his beard tickled your skin. 

You fell flat-footed to the floor with a smile spreading across your face; he was enraptured to watch the words that spilled from your lips. “I thought I had forgotten that night at Driftmark, but it seems what you said has embedded into my bones.” You felt light-headed, but also embolden by his gaze and the black that swallowed his murky cobalt eyes. “You once said that you could not give me what I deserved, but did you ever think you could give me what I want, what I desire?” 

It was a dam broken and he surged against you, pressing until your back touched the other side of the corridor. He reclaimed your mouth with a honeyed fervor that warmed your blood. Your fingers pull away the tie that held back his hair and combed through his silky copper spill. His fingers bruised into your hips, holding on as if you would slip away. 

You broke the kiss, breathless, your fingers knitting with his own and pulling him back into your room. It was a quiet exchange, littered with soft kisses, as you helped him remove his iron armor piece-by-piece, stacking the plates aside. 

He draped the white cape over a chair and looked to you. Underneath he wore a pale tunic and cream slacks, his outline pressing to the seams in a way that made your thighs clench. He stepped closer, his desperation more controlled, and pulled you into his chest, his thumb pressed to tilt your chin for a slow and searching kiss. 

You sighed and his tongue curled to taste, his fingers peeling away the bedtime silk that covered your skin. He worshiped every inch shown with his mouth, blooms of color decorating your skin. 

You helped him pull his shirt over his head, wanting to feel the heat of his skin, to feel the golden hair across his chest. His heart was vibrating beneath, and his arms wrapped around your waist with another kiss that pulled the air from your lungs. Ser Erryk tightened his hold to lift you and walk you backwards until you felt the edge of the bed touching the back of your knees; you sat down, your thighs plush and pink.

His hands cradled your jaw, tilting your head back to look at you. “Beautiful,” he whispered before leaning to capture your lips again. 

Your fingers curled at the nape of his neck to pull him towards you, moving back against the mattress. He followed, his skin flushed red and his eyes wide as you laid back into the pillows. He moved on top of you, gentle to touch you with soft caresses and lingering kisses, following your guide as you led his hand lower towards the intimacy between your thighs, wet and wanting. 

He trembled with his exhale as his fingertips split apart your velvet folds, his calloused touch careful to map the bloom of nerves above. You gasped with his testing touch and his smile curled into his blood stained cheeks; he moved softer, but quicker, until it elicited a sweet sigh. 

Ser Erryk was responsive, attentive to you. He was aware of your breathing and soft sounds, matching his ministration to pull something deeper within you, sparking at the base of your spine. It felt different from your own touch, this passion he pulled without your control, and you squirmed from the pressure building in your core. 

“Erryk,” you whined, your hips lifting against his hand.

He grinned, shifting to press a kiss underneath your jaw, and your skin rippled over in response to the contrast of his lips and his beard. “That’s it princess,” his husky tone was hot against your skin; your hands moved to hold him close, another pitiful mewl spilling. He shifted his hand, moving to curl two fingers within your cunt while his thumb pressed to your swollen pearl.  

“Erryk–!” you gasped, and your nails pressed red crescents into his shoulders. 

His brow was knitted with his concentration, moving to litter kisses along the column of your neck and to your collarbones–a gentle nip that bolted the length of your spine. He does not stop, his fingers coated with your slick with his rhythm that curled upwards into you, sparking a euphoria that poured white-hot into your blood, your heart bruising until you feel it rattling your bones. 

His other hand touched to return you back to your body; his palms rough but kind, following the curve of your stomach and resting to feel the rise and fall with your bated breath. You felt dizzy, blushing, and you blinked, looking down to see him watching you. He moved to give you another searing kiss that rekindled the same warmth pooling between your thighs. 

You kissed him back and spread your legs for his slender waist to slot in-between. He pulled his slacks lower, allowing the underside of his cock to spread your velvet folds, a heady but delicious pressure against your cunt. You pulled him in for a kiss and he groaned into your mouth as you canted your hips, your heart pulsing against his heavy cock. 

He was flushed. “I will be gentle, princess…”

You swallowed his words with another kiss, your legs knotting around to rut your hips against him. He panted into your mouth, his arm dipping to line himself with your entrance, and you clenched with your anticipation. 

Erryk pressed into you with a trembled control as your heat enveloped him fully. You were split apart with the most delicious fill; you mewled, pitiful, and his head fell forward, tucking into the curve of your neck. “Gods be good…” he rasped. 

Your fingers dimpled into his waist, encouraging his thrusts. His pace filled you sinfully, a slow roll of his hips that spurred a pleasure coiling within. You gasped against his chest, your nails biting into his skin as he quickened, going deeper, almost bruising. You felt your walls flutter around him, pulling another guttural groan from the back of his throat, his rasped whisper of your name buried into your hair. 

The euphony trilled your spine and you clenched with your second release. It pulled him over that precipice of pleasure, crashing like a tidal wave. Erryk melted against you, hot, pulsing deep within you, and you breathed in his skin, the same intoxicating scent mixed with olive oil and wax. 

He pulled away, the tender moment passing as duty resurfaced. 

You made a noise, pushing to sit upright and your head tilting to watch his heavy sway between his thighs as he walked back from the basin with a clean cloth in hand. Your eyes met with his and his brow arched in return, teasing; you caught his wrist and pulled him back into the bed, against your heart. 

Erryk twisted his face until it pressed into your skin, licking and kissing whatever his mouth could touch. You giggled, squirming until you could rest your head on his chest. His arms wrapped around you. 

You did not want this night to end. “Do not leave me, Erryk.” 

“I am sworn to you, princess.” He reminded you, pressing his lips to your hairline. 

It was not what you wished to hear, but it was all you would get at this moment. You hummed, burying your face until his chest hair tickled, listening to the low thrum of his heartbeat. 

That night changed the monotony of the Red Keep. You thought of any reason to pull Erryk away from prying eyes; stolen kisses and touches that lingered, heating your skin. Your eyes now would flit to find him and see that he was always standing close, his gaze piercing through, settled onto you. 

When the sun tucked away into the horizon, he would slip through the passageway and back into your embrace, the intimate tangle of bare limbs abed with breathless kisses and secrets shared. He learned your body, an instrument to be mastered and a passion to taste you on his lips, staining his beard. He became your confidant, sharing the mutterings of the court; he was the one to warn you about the claimant for Driftmark. 

You wrote your mother at once.

It had been months since you left Dragonstone and you were excited to see her, your father and your siblings again. You were deciding on what gown to wear while Elinda was cleaning up, pulling your sheets away with a scowl on her face. 

You laughed at her expression. “What is it?”

She was perplexed. “I cannot recall your last moonsblood, princess,” she admitted, her lips pursed. “I feel that time seems to run itself together within these walls.” 

Her words ripped through you, but you said nothing, your expression as solid as the stones stacked to create the walls she referred to. Elinda finished tucking the corners before she noticed. “Princess! Are you okay–?” 

“I am fine,” you lied. “Help me with my dress.”

Underneath you were rattled, frightened with the revelation of life within you. Your disquiet settled away, disappearing once your mother arrived. You rushed to greet her, seeing her swollen with another heir in the making. Her silver brows knitted as she looked over the state of the Red Keep, and you wrapped an arm around your side, pulling you close to whisper: “It is even worse than what you described!” 

There was comfort in your mother’s arms and you pressed a kiss to her cheek. She looked at you a moment before her gaze fell back to Erryk, your ever dutiful-shadow noted. “Good ser, you have my eternal gratitude for keeping her safe.”

He was pink with her words. “Thank you, princess.” 

Her focus remained on him another moment before she looked back to you, her eyes now careful to comb over. You swallowed, unsure, and she said nothing as her attention was whisked away to her purposeful return to the Keep. 

The days that followed were tumultuous in the least, with a tension that spilled crimson on the floor of the Throne Room. Your stomach dropped from the wet sound of the two halves of Ser Vaemond hitting the stone floor, the smell of iron thick around you; Erryk moved in front of you to shield you away. 

King Viserys called for a supper that evening to mend the ever-growing rift, but instead emotions imploded, splitting the room in half. 

Erryk moved to wrap his hand around your arm at your mother’s command. Your father escorted your siblings and their betrotheds back to their rooms, his silver brow furrowing at you and your knight. 

Your footfalls echoed to keep with his pace, a numbed process of what had just happened. “I will have to return to Dragonstone,” you whispered when you felt certain it was just the two of you. “Wait for me.” 

Erryk looked at you before he stepped closer, cupping your jaw. It rooted you as he leaned to give you a chaste kiss, the warmth of his mouth searing through you. You stifled a sob when he pulled back to place another kiss to your hairline, another secret whispered against your skin. “I always have, princess.” 

Dragonstone was gray and dreary as you remembered, becoming a beacon for awful when the news came that the king was dead and that Prince Aegon II Targaryen now sat upon the throne. 

It wrenched through your mother and her hands pressed to her abdomen. The day waned with your father plotting at the very table the Conqueror laid plans, while your mother’s screams echoed throughout. You waited in the shadows, your hands pressing to protect your stomach; you prayed fervently to the gods, the old ones and the new, but they did not answer. 

A pyre was stacked for the bloody swaddle and you watched the flames swallow it, the heat licking your skin. Your mother was pale, her eyes empty as she watched the curl of smoke rise above, her morbid farewell to her child unborn. 

It was the swords unsheathed that pulled your attention, your heart pounding at the sound of his voice: “I mean no harm, brothers.” 

You swallowed your tears, watching as Erryk kneeled to the earth with his vow renewed. The setting sun gave an amber aura that reflected off the crown he pulled from his satchel, the same as King Jaehaerys’ and your grandsire after, the same that was placed on top of your mother’s head that commanded a rippled bow of respect from everyone around. 

Back inside, any unease was settled once Princess Rhaenys spoke of how he helped her escape from the Red Keep. Your mother forced a smile, her pain still haunting her features. “Your vow is to me, and to my family. You are to keep them safe, like before, like always.” 

And he nodded. 

With war burning on the horizon, its imminent threat that would swallow the Seven Realms, there was no moment spared where you could speak of the life created. You kept it cradled to your chest when you saw how war-wearied Erryk was already. His heart had been cleaved in two and one-half remained in charge of the usurper. 

It allowed a new desperation in the passion shared, a clash of teeth and tongues to taste whatever intimacy could be spared amidst the bloodshed. This ever-threat of life so fleeting is what pushed you to be bolder, which was why you were waiting for him outside the bathhouse one evening. 

You reached as he moved past you, your fingers tucking into his waistband to pull him into the shadows. Your royal apartment had a path that weaved as an escape, and tonight you used it to bring him back with you, to allow a moment to forget the inevitable that was coming. 

“Princess…” he started, but you stopped him with a kiss. 

“I missed you,” you confessed against his lips. “I need to feel you.”

Your room was basked in candlelight and you pulled him through the passageway, turning to dip your hand below his waistband, your hand pressed on his half-hard cock. It pulsed against your palm and you moved closer to place a kiss on his neck.

He sighed his pleasure and his torment. “Princess,” he tried again, but you would not let him. 

You nipped at his skin, halting his words, and he smothered a groan while your other hand pulled at his drawstrings. “Let me,” you breathed, and his skin rose in response. 

He felt heavy in your hands that wrapped around him. You stole another kiss before your chin dropped to your chest, your spit falling from your tongue and onto his cock. 

Erryk hissed as you stroked his length, watching as he jerked with another low moan. Your hand held onto his hip to lower to your knees, your other wrapping around the base and bringing his flushed cockhead against your tongue. You pressed a kiss and were rewarded with a groan that rumbled through him; your tongue trailed the side of his cock, feeling every vein and ridge, and you placed another kiss on the underside. 

His fingers combed through your hair, watching as you pulled back to watch you take him inch-by-inch, with your hand holding onto what could not fit. His hips bucked into your mouth, bruising the back of your throat, and you groaned, a heat pooling between your thighs. 

Your mouth and hand worked in tandem, working his cock until you felt it twitch with his pearly spend, his briny taste against your tongue. He shuddered, pulling back to sink to his knees, cupping your face and pulling you close for a messy kiss. 

“My turn,” he whispered, standing and pulling you to follow, his eyes lust-blown. 

You sank into the mattress and Erryk kneeled before you, an altar to be worshiped. His palm pressed to your cunt and his fingers spread your folds, allowing his tongue to run along your slit. You shivered as he pressed further, his tongue now carving into you with a well-known intimacy that made your toes curl. 

Afterwards, Erryk curled into you and your fingers ran through his still damp hair, the occasional pause to press another kiss to his scalp. “I am sworn to you,” he was quiet, his voice barely above your heart beat. “But you are so much more to me.” 

Your heart swelled in your chest. “I know,” you kissed your knight again. “I… love you too, Erryk.” 

He hummed against you, burrowing into the softness of your skin. His words replayed in your mind, giving you the courage that you needed, but your mother already called you to her chambers the next night. 

When you entered, she dismissed Ser Lorent, who locked the door behind him. Her eyes settled on you and your throat tightened. Her face was drawn, thinner, a woman shattered by all the blood spilled and plagued by the fact that more was yet to come. 

You remained standing, waiting as her eyes poured over you. She took a breath before she said, “I already know.” 

It was a relief, it was terror. Your stomach dropped and you looked to see Elinda busying herself with whatever her hands could find. Damn her. “I wished to tell you myself,” you admitted, your fists balled at your sides until your nails pierced through to the bones. 

Her eyes steeled in return, her jaw set. “Who is he?” 

Instead, you answer with, “I love him.” 

“That was not what I asked,” she snapped in a way that both you and Elinda flinched with her words that were scalding with her anger. “Your queen asked who is the father of the child that you carry.” 

But you saw her tears were threatening to spill, her face blotched with her anger. You pressed your hands to your stomach, the new habit formed over the last few weeks. “It is Ser Erryk Cargyll.” 

She closed her eyes, a fury now thrumming. “I should have fucking known…” 

“And how is it any different from what you shared with Ser Harwin?” You could not stop your tongue, her temperament reflecting. 

“You truly wish to repeat the follies of my heart, you daft girl?” She hissed, her tears spilling. “We are on the cusp of a civil war because… I allowed my heart to choose instead committing to the duty that I am bound to by my blood, the very same within your veins.” Her hand pressed to her chest, a sob caught in her throat. “And that choice is the consequence that I now suffer every day.” 

You wanted to glare, to fight back, but you saw her torment. Her tears spilling called to you and you moved to her bedside, melting into her. She fell into your arms with sobs that wracked her body. She held onto you and you remained, allowing her grief to pour over. 

Behind, you heard the other door opening. Your mother looked up from your chest, wiping her face. “Ser Erryk?” 

A cold-fire twisted into your stomach when you saw him, knowing at once that he was not the man you were in love with. The imposter knight stepped closer, unsheathing his sword. He sounded pained. “Believe me, I had no choice.” 

“Brother!”

Over his shoulder, you saw Erryk, his sword drawn and his eyes wild. “Do not do this. I beg you.” 

There was a clash of steel, of heartbreak and betrayal. Your mother screamed at Elinda, but she remained cemented to the cobblestone, stricken with her fear. She grabbed your hand to pull you from the bed, your legs buckling and your heart screaming to stay. You followed after your mother, remembering too late that the door was locked, and you looked over the room for a weapon, an escape. 

Erryk yelled when the sword cut through his thigh. 

Your fear pulled you outside of your body to see your hands resting to shield your stomach, the smell of blood rich in the night air. You prayed to the gods, a cursed habit, and again, they ignored you. 

You blinked to focus. Arryk fell first, a sword splayed through his stomach, and you looked to Erryk, your relief fleeting when you saw the dagger buried between his ribs. He looked at you, his knees buckling, collapsing to the floor with the clatter of iron. 

Your mother ran for the door, screaming for the maesters, for anyone to come and aid. You rushed to his side, your slippers slick in the blood that was pouring out on the stone, staining the pale silk of your nightgown. You lifted his head to rest on your lap, your trembling touch unsure if you could even staunch the scarlett flow. 

“I cannot do this without you,” you pleaded, your hands pressing around the hilt; his blood bubbled between your fingers. “I need you, Erryk. Our babe needs you!”

Erryk looked at you as if you were the sun itself, a dawning realization that washed over with your words. Your heart wrenched from your chest when you looked at him, a choked sob when you saw the red that stained his smile. 

His lips parted, but no words would come. Instead you watched as the blue of his eyes faded to gray with his last breath.  

You leaned over him, your tears spilling, and you pressed a kiss to his brow, your blood-stained fingers gentle to cradle the head of your devoted knight.

hotd masterlist || arcie's navi

[whiskeyskin]

Comfort

Premise: Over the course of their time together Astarion picks up some nesting behaviour.

• Astarion x gn!Tav • Mild rating •

Sweetness, closeness, gn!tav POV, comfort, Astarion being a softie, but we can't let him know we know, he's a nester, it's cute

900 words

Look at this beautiful art from @illustrance of our boy all snuggled up and safe! 🥹💜

•°•°•

"Is that your bed?" Tav asked, slightly wide-eyed at the rigid, wooden board that sat in his tent.

"No, that's my magic carpet. All the way from Neverwinter. Do you like it?" He answered, sarcastically.

Tav let out a small chuckle.

"Oh, it's lovely. It looks very sturdy," they added with faux enthusiasm, "Gods, Astarion. It just looks so.. uncomfortable. Do you seriously rest on a hard, wooden board?" They asked, incredulous.

"Well, yes." He answered with a shrug, "The Palace didn't afford much in the way of comfortability, so we made do. I'm just used to it now." He added, with a lilt of accepted sadness in his voice.

"I understand, it's still sad as all Hells though, Astarion. You don't have to trance like that now, if you don't want to." Tav reminded with a small smile.

"It's what I'm used to, if it's not broke and all that. Don't pester!" Astarion gestured their objections with a flourish.

"Alright, well I'm not used to this so I'm going to grab myself an extra bedroll."

Tav gave a mock bow and flipped open the tent entrance.

They'd been building a friendship with Astarion during this last tenday now of travelling together, and he had offered for them to sleep in his tent so he wouldn't have to keep disturbing Lae'zel upon his nightly creepings for a feed.

Apparently, being 'skewered like a stuck pig' on the end of Lae's sword wasn't very appealing to him. They couldn't quite blame him.

Picking up a spare bedroll, waving goodnights to the others and returning through the flap of his tent, Tav spotted a newly placed pillow nestled at the top of a space cleared for them.

They paused and looked up at Astarion.

He made a tutting noise with his mouth and landed on one hip in a huff, "Well, you made a fuss about being comfortable, I grabbed a pillow. It's not a big deal."

Tav pursed their lips together in a tight smile to keep themselves from showing their true emotion.

As sweet as this was, he wasn't emotionally ready for the positive ramifications they wanted to impart on him for such a small but thoughtful token.

"I appreciate the gesture." They said, measuring out their response as not to goad him, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He jerked his shoulders in nonchalance and settled himself down on his wooden board as Tav spread out the bedroll.

They set the extra pillow to soften their head and prepared for him to feed. Astarion loomed over them, his teeth glinting in the dim candlelight.

Sharp pain split through their neck but died down quickly to numb throbbing, as he drank deeply from their neck.

The pillow was a simple gesture, but it was very telling. He was a good person, behind all the huffing and the façade. Tav knew it.

He was learning that kindness was not a weakness. That giving yourself to a cause, or a person, or a religion wasn't stupid. That he had the power to do real good and enact true change within himself. And Tav would help him realise that.

The following week of travelling together; protecting each other, fighting beside each other, saving each other from certain death at points.. their group had grown much closer. Conversation was easier, despite the tense nature of their need to spend time together. They were all becoming very good friends.

And every evening they settled down to rest after a hearty meal, Tav noticed more and more soft furnishings appear in Astarion's dwellings; blankets, pillows, the odd teddy they picked up that Karlach hadn't claimed.

He slowly got used to the thanks and praise of considering their comfort, and even cracked a smile once or thrice. It seemed that he'd done away with being coy about it and actively sought things on their adventures to soften their bed with.

That night, when they pulled out their packs worth of random finds, had so much quilting and cushioning, they decided to make one big makeshift bed, instead of the separate sleeping arrangement they'd had.

Gone was his wooden board, but his grey comfort blanket still remained. As ragged and old as it was, Tav could tell there was meaning behind it and didn't feel any need to threaten him with parting from it.

Together they settled into their pile of pillows and blankets, laying together peacefully in each others embrace.

Tav let out a deep, contented sigh and Astarion replied with a low satisfied rumble.

"See, isn't this better than a wooden board?" Tav asked, smiling.

Astarion's chest jerked slightly as he chuckled, "Yes, alright. I concede. This is.. nice."

Their gaze met claret as they melted into soft, warm kisses full of security, adoration and admiration for each other. A still constant, in a world thrown into choas.

That night, the first since the fateful night he'd crept through the darkness to indulge without permission; Astarion didn't feed and they didn't have sex.

They woke in the same position they fell to rest in, a deep and dreamless sleep that took a few moments to awaken from.

They blinked groggily at each other, smiling and stretching out of their stiff bodies from remaining in the same position for several hours.

"Alright, that was more than just nice." He smirked, safety and comfort present in his stupored smile.

•°•°•

Y'all want some more? 👀 Here's a Masterlist

[vivid-ink]

'The Love Shack' Series Masterlist

Relationship: Neteyam(23) x fem!Omatikaya reader(21) x Lo'ak(22) Series status: Complete

Story Summary: You’d heard the whispered speculations and stifled giggles during the daytimes. You’d seen the furtive glances that the other women cast at Neteyam and Lo’ak through coquettish eyes, cheeks stained a blushing mauve as they exchanged coy smiles with the two brothers. And during the nights? Hell, you’d heard the moans and wanton cries for yourself… You were definitely curious, but did you have it in you to go through with their proposition?... Note: No use of 'Y/N'. Your name/reader's name in this is Neyomi.

Content: SMUT 18+ MDNI, Mentions of group sex, MMF threesome, sex toy play, squirting, anal sex.

Part I - The Proposition Part II - Three Is A Perfect Crowd Part III - Blurring Lines Part IV - Haunted By You Part V - The Fault Is Ours Epilogue Drabble - Silwey's Reaction

Author's Note: A complete series means it earns its own series masterlist. 🥰THANK YOU to all of you who showed this series so much love! I enjoyed all your comments, and I'm eternally grateful for all your likes & reblogs. Neteyam & Neyomi's journey is another special addition in the library of my heart. 😘 For those who are new to this series - Hang on to your panties (or not) and enjoy this sexy, emotional rollercoaster. I hope you love it as much as others have. 💜💜💜

[moraxsthrone]

⊹✧˚｡⋆ title — sir kaeya

⊹✧˚｡⋆ pairing — k. alberich x f!reader

⊹✧˚｡⋆ wc — 5.7k

⊹✧˚｡⋆ cw/an — nsfw. mdni. alcohol consumption (duh it's kaeya). kaeya being a bit of a tease (duh it's kaeya). oral (m & f rcv'ing). snowballing (how fitting). clit slapping. this fic sprang forth from the very first genshin thing i ever wrote (the scene at angel's share) so it's really special to me. kaeya was my first genshin love and will always be my favorite. 💜

surprising as it would be to most, you’d never been to mondstadt before this week’s multi-regional summit. as a diplomatic representative of your region, many would guess that you’d been all over teyvat. but you’ve only held your current office for a little less than a year, and although you did your best to absorb as much information and knowledge as possible from your predecessor, it’ll take a lot more time and experience than what you have so far to be as efficient as they had been. so, for now at least, the job keeps you busy - too busy to travel for pleasure.

so when the final meeting of the last day gets canceled, rather than go home early you take the opportunity to do some much-anticipated exploring of the city of wind and its culture. 

“i’m famished! pray tell, sir kaeya, where would you recommend we go to enjoy the most authentic dishes of mondstadt?”

kaeya alberich, cavalry captain of the knights of favonius, has been charged with keeping you safe. as your security detail, he accompanies you almost everywhere you go - keeping a low profile during policy meetings - blending in with the background while also being close enough to stand between you and any potential threat or danger.

“we?” he asks, looking slightly confused. “will someone else be joining you?”

“if you’ll be so inclined…” you say before biting your lip and looking away shyly.

“me?”

you’d have to be blind not to have noticed his striking good looks the moment you were introduced to him on the first day, and it certainly wouldn’t hurt your feelings one bit to allow the captain to keep you company. likewise but unbeknownst to you, the gorgeous knight has stolen a few glances of you when you’ve been too busy to notice. he has especially enjoyed your pretty smile and the sway of your hips when you walk. more than once he’s allowed his gaze to linger on your curves perhaps a little too long.

“but of course! i don’t want to eat at a restaurant alone while you just stand there and watch. can you think of anything more depressing?” you joke.

“you make a valid point,” he says with a quiet laugh. “very well. allow me to treat you to good hunter. you’d be hard pressed to find a more impressive menu! miss sara makes a mean sticky honey roast - i can’t recommend it enough!”

as the two of you dine together, you enjoy easy conversation, becoming better acquainted with one another. when kaeya introduces you to miss sara, she goes out of her way to prepare for you a sampler of sorts, citing it as the perfect solution to your conundrum of deciding what to order because everything looks so tasty. she also insists that your bill is on the house, refusing to take any mora you offer, but you leave behind a handsome tip anyway. if nothing else, you want miss sara to have it as thanks for her warm and welcoming hospitality.

“what would you like to do next, m’lady?” kaeya asks, walking alongside you towards the city’s center.

you should be used to this title by now, but something about the way the cavalry captain looks at you when he says it sends a small rush of heat to your cheeks.

“oh, i don’t know. why don’t you surprise me?” you say, flashing him a coy smile, which he finds irresistibly adorable.

he takes you to marjorie’s souvenir shop before leading the way to the anemo archon statue in front of the cathedral. from there, the two of you take a stroll outside the city walls, engaging in playful banter along the way. your personalities blend well - he’s pleasantly surprised at your ability to keep up with his wit, and his charm wins you over with ease. by the time the sun is setting over the edge of the western horizon, your conversation is flowing effortlessly. the two of you haven’t been able to shut up for hours when you ask him,

“so where’s the best place to get a drink in this town?”

the knight’s smirk spreads into a full smile as he hums. “i know just the place.” 

⊹✧˚｡⋆

the tavern is packed, and you’re inclined to believe kaeya’s got that pirate blood he claims to have since he’s standing on one of the big wooden tables, surrounded by other rambunctious patrons of angel’s share, singing along with the bard’s songs about legends of sea and treasure. their energy is contagious (obnoxious if you ask diluc who just rolls his eyes and shakes his head from behind the bar). 

you’re right there with them, clapping and laughing when kaeya reaches out, takes your hand, and pulls you up onto the table with him. neither of you are sure if the visible heat on the apples of your cheeks is because of the alcohol or because of the sudden proximity of your bodies. with an arm around your waist he pulls you right up against his side and wow! he’s more powerful than he looks. the song is about finding love on the run and kaeya is acting out the lyrics with you, embarrassing you to no end but you’re having too much fun to ask him to stop, so you just go with it. 

the song’s story ends with a kiss and you think you might just die when kaeya’s arm flexes against the small of your back, fastening your hip to his thigh. he brings his lips right up to yours, but they don’t quite touch. your eyes go wide as you stare into his periwinkle orb that sparkles with mischief. he practically whispers the last line of the song, his dandelion wine breath wisping over your lips. 

the cheering of the men around you grows distant, drowned out by the blood rushing through your ears. 

kaeya’s heart pounds against the palm of your hand resting on his chest.

you watch with bated breath as his ice-blue eye darkens with his diamond pupil. he shifts his weight and your knees feel like jelly when his lips but graze yours before he smiles and pulls away with a laugh. 

raising his cup, he cheers along with the surrounding audience before hopping off the table. setting his drink down, he reaches for you again, this time to help you off the table. you accept, and he pulls you closer before his deft hands clasp your waist, lowering your feet to the floor. 

a tease that kaeya alberich, you think, but a chivalrous one. 

while you find yourself mingling with other patrons it seems kaeya never lets you out of his sight. he’s never too far away, engaged in his own conversations with some of the other locals when you look over to find him looking at you over the rim of his wine glass. 

when one of the gentlemen offers to buy you a drink, kaeya seems to appear out of nowhere and places a hand on your lower back. 

“oh, that won’t be necessary,” the knight interjects, voice filled with cool honey. “all her drinks are on the knights of favonius this evening, but a kind gesture, i’m sure.” 

“why, sir kaeya, if i didn’t know any better i would think you’re trying to keep me all to yourself tonight,” you say with a teasing lilt.

his lips part as a slight blush appears on his cheeks, but he quickly recovers. “just performing my knightly duties to keep you safe, m’lady.” 

when you’re ready to go, kaeya’s having such a good time that you don’t want to end his night. so you make your way to the bar to pay your tab, only to be told that your drinks have been bought and paid for already (oh, he wasn’t lying).

you wander out into the cool night, the sound of the crowd and the smell of booze muffled behind the thick wooden door. no longer had it shut behind you than you feel your back being pressed against the tavern’s exterior wall. you gasp, only to breathe easy when you find yourself pressed between the wall and your now-tipsy chaperone.

“thought you could get away so easily, hm?”

your eyes are glued to his smirk. those lips that promised to kiss you earlier won’t soon leave your mind.

you laugh breathily while giving his chest a gentle push. “i didn’t want to put a damper on your fun.”

“who said my fun is over for the night?” no sooner than the words leave his lips, his eye widens as he quickly realizes how inappropriate it was to say that. “oh dear, it seems i’ve forgotten my manners. please accept my apology, m’lady…”

his panicked attempt at clarification is interrupted by your laughter. “relax, sir kaeya. i won’t hold it against you.” 

he really wishes you’d stop calling him that. it makes his dick twitch every time and you both know his pants will leave little to the imagination if he gets a hard-on.

he stumbles walks you back to the goth grand hotel, removing his cloak along the way and draping it over your shoulders when he notices you shivering in the cool night breeze. when you reach your door, he lingers as you unlock it with the intention of ensuring you make it inside safely. the bolt unlatches and you turn to face your chaperone again. 

he’s looking down at you and opens his mouth to bid you good night when you pull him in by his shirt and kiss him. it’s a huge risk, one you never would’ve taken were it not for the liquid courage coursing through your veins. maybe he isn’t really interested in you and that’s the reason he didn’t kiss you earlier.

much to your relief, he kisses you back. passionately. 

his warm tongue swipes across your bottom lip and you eagerly chase it with your own. you slide your fingers inside the opening of his shirt, balling it in your fist to lure him inside. his chuckle is low and breathy when he smiles against your lips which never leave his as you slam the door with your foot and push his back against the nearest wall.

“hahh…who knew you could be so forceful, m’lady?” he pants.

“sorry, but…” you say between kisses, carding your fingers through his soft hair, “...you teased me earlier and…” another kiss, “...i really wanted that kiss,” you finish with a whine.

“well, why didn’t you just say so, hm?” kaeya says, sucking on your lower lip with a hum.

his thumbs slide under your top, massaging little circles into your skin. there’s not a hint of humor in his voice when he rolls his forehead against yours and rasps, “i’ve been wanting to kiss you until you can’t breathe anymore…”

in one swift motion, kaeya spins you around effortlessly until your back hits the wall, his cloak falling off your shoulders as he catches your gasp in his open mouth, making it clear to you that he’s the one in control now. his fingertips dig into your lower back and pull your hips from the wall, forcing them to collide with his so you can feel what you’re doing to him. you let out a quiet moan at the feeling of his semi pressing against your thigh. his lips leave yours to venture along your jaw before trailing down the column of your neck, his blue hair fluttering in your breath and filling your senses with the cool, clean scent of his cologne.

you reach down and fumble with kaeya’s belt, swearing at it under your breath when it doesn’t cooperate. with one hand and a couple flicks of his fingers, it hits the floor with a clamor of leather and metal. you have much better luck with the fastenings of his pants, his lips returning to yours with a shuddering breath just as you free his cock and start stroking his wide shaft, so hot and hard.

he quickly pulls his gloves off and hikes your skirt up to your hips, exposing your creamy thighs.

“so warm…” kaeya whispers, raking his long, slender fingers along your skin until he reaches your apex. “n' so wet…”

“hhhgods fuck…” the words leave you in a huff, making him groan when you rub your thumb over his slit to collect his slick bead of pre. “f-hnn-fuck me, kaeya~”

with your blessing, he wastes no time pulling his now fully hard cock out of your hand in favor of grabbing the backs of your thighs and picking you up. you lock your ankles behind him with a whimper, the back of your head rolling against the wall when the underside of his dick glides over your dripping pussy lips through your damp panties. kaeya’s got two handfuls of your ass, his deft fingers curling and pulling your underwear to the side to let his leaking cockhead seek your naked opening. he begins to push himself inside, dropping his forehead to your shoulder with a long groan as his tip pops through your tight ring. 

you cry out, one of your hands flying to the wall behind you as you loop an arm around his neck for stability. kaeya spreads his legs a little further apart for leverage as he sinks a little deeper inside you, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. before he’s even fully sheathed inside you, he retreats just to push in again and starts fucking you, slow and shallow. he’s barely halfway in and you already feel so full, the thick vein on top of his shaft rolling under his skin as he pushes and pulls at your slick, gummy walls.

“so tight~” he breathes, open lips ghosting across your face as he goes for your lips again. “are you okay?”

all you can do is dumbly nod as your eyes roll back behind fluttering eyelids and a huff of a laugh bubbles from his smile. “feels so good…so good to me, kaeya~” 

you’re practically singing for him already and he hasn’t even bottomed out yet. it would probably go to his head were it not for the fact that he’s too far gone from the wet heat of your pussy sucking him so hard, the lip of your ring catching on the head of his cock with every draw of his hips, driving him too crazy for his ego to remain intact anymore. 

your elegant neck is exposed to him, letting his open lips drag along your moistening skin as your back moves up and down the wall with his thrusts. kaeya’s long, slender fingers grab your jaw and pull your lips to his. you’re so nice and wet for him that your need is spreading to his hips and balls. the sound of his thighs hitting yours when you finally take him all the way goes straight to your head. it’s one thing to feel kaeya fucking you, but hearing him fuck you - moist slaps of skin, his quickened breaths and quiet groans so close to your ear - it’s driving you out of your mind.

the cryo wielder pulls you away from the wall, your hot tongues swirling as he carries you to bed. his fingers squeeze the plush of your ass, guiding you along his throbbing shaft as he goes. kaeya lays you down before reaching behind his back to unlock your ankles and spread you open for him. 

he pulls out and stands up, looking down at you and letting out a breathy chuckle when you whine a little at the loss of his girth. but the view is delicious so you don’t complain. his rigid cock is thick with a large vein running his length and an angry, almost purple cockhead that’s dripping with fresh precum. his tan shaft glistens, wet with your slick. it bounces under its own weight as he kicks his boots off and pushes his pants down. 

you both watch the other undress with urgency; he makes quick work of his shirt as you shimmy out of your skirt. save for the battle scars, his lithe body is flawless - tall with long, lean muscles. seeing him like this makes you bite your lip and rub your thighs together.

kaeya’s lips curve into a small smile as he crawls towards you on the bed, his hands gently caressing the tops of your thighs as he kneels between them. he leans down to kiss your cheek, his long rat tail licking your breasts. “you are so fucking beautiful,” he says, barely above a whisper. “i've been dying to taste you…”

a sigh leaves your lips as he makes his way down your body, kissing and licking, sucking and nipping in all the right places. his breath feels so warm against your skin, save for the few times he purses his lips to blow cool air on the spots he just licked. he swirls his tongue around one of your nipples, only to replace it with his cool fingers while he gives the other the same treatment. the juxtaposition of warm and cool makes you arch off the bed, moaning when your clit brushes against his naked belly. 

gradually, kaeya makes his way further down, ghosting kisses along your bikini lines as his hands spread your thighs open just a little more for him. he watches your dewy petals unfold for him, exposing the hard little bud they’ve been hiding. “fuck…” he mutters, “...such a pretty pussy…”

“kaey-” you start, but your voice is cut off by a gasp when his warm tongue swipes swiftly along your slit. a single periwinkle eye stares up at you as he flicks the tip of his wet muscle over your clit, soft and light as a feather. he’s teasing you. you can see the mischievous glint in his eye as he dips his tongue into your hole. finally, his lips latch onto your needy clit, making your hips leave the bed when you thrust into his mouth. 

his taste buds rub your tiny erection, your flavor making him moan as he sucks you harder. one of his hands finds yours, your fingers interlocking while his other hand grabs and kneads at your heaving breasts, your soft tummy, and the plush of your thigh. 

he pops off you, drool and slick coating his chin. “your flavor…fucking delectable~” he breathes before diving back in.

he nearly sends you over the edge when he pushes two of his long fingers inside your clenching cunt, curling them to find that unmistakable rough spot within. your walls squelch helplessly around him as he finger-fucks you. your free hand grabs and pulls mindlessly at his hair, hips rocking to fuck his pretty face as he gives you the head of your life.

“ohh~ kaeya~” 

the searing coil that’s been spooling deep in your belly is getting impossibly tighter and when the cavalry captain hums on your clit, the vibrations send you. you cry out for him, back arching, walls clenching around his curled fingers. he pins you to the bed with his free arm and moans, a wet spot forming where more of his pre leaks out of his throbbing cock when your fists tighten around his cerulean locks. you cum for him, thighs clamping around his head while his tongue pulses over your clit until you’re fully spent.

kaeya situates his hips between your legs, wiping your spilled essence from his flushed face with a breathy chuckle before pressing the underside of his cock between your slippery folds. you taste yourself on his tongue when he kisses you, and he relishes your gasp when his swollen cockhead catches on your overstimmed clit. 

grinning against your lips, he says, “oh? feeling a little sensitive, hm? perhaps you’re not quite ready to take my cock again so soon…” he teases, pulling away but you squeeze your thighs around his hips, impeding his escape and making him laugh.

“i can take a lot more than you think, sir kaeya…” you purr, twirling a strand of his blue hair around your finger.

there’s that glint in his eye again when he licks his smirking lips. “is that so, m’lady?” he croons, reaching between your bodies to grab the base of his cock. biting his lower lip and holding your gaze steady the cryo user slaps the head of his cock hard against your clit, swallowing your cry at the sharp pressure. “fuck,” he groans. “you make the prettiest sounds for me…”

“so mean,” you whine, digging your nails into his biceps when he pushes his blunt tip inside you.

he drops his mouth to your ear as he slowly spreads you open around his girth, whispering, “...and you love it.” 

his sultry voice shoots down your spine straight to your core, making him moan deliciously when your weeping walls clamp down on him. kaeya starts slow and even, pulling almost all the way out before easing himself balls deep a few times, making you feel every inch as his cock drags and pulls along your slippery insides. 

the lingering effects of your orgasm have left you even tighter than the first time he fucked you. he can already feel the heat pooling at the base of his spine, his balls drawing closer to his body when his hips begin to snap. there’s no way he’s going to get enough of you before he cums. you feel too fucking good - the way your little cunt is squeezing and sucking him so hard, drooling and soaking his entire length as he fucks you. the pretty little sounds your mouth and your pussy make for him…your whines and cries of his name, the slurps and squelches of your juices all over his cock. 

he’s got to get more of you, plunge his cock deeper inside your hot, wet cunt. 

kaeya pushes up onto his knees and props your ankles on his shoulders, still fucking you through it all without missing a beat.

“oh gods, kae- kaeya~...feels so good, don’t stop!”

“wasn’t planning on it…” he pants as he leans forward, putting you in a deep press so he can hit the spot that makes your hips leave the bed. “...gonna fuck you until this sweet pussy of yours creams all over my dick…”

you’re twisting the sheets in your fists above your head, the firm ridge of kaeya’s cockhead bumping against your sweet spot with every snap of his hips. strands of blue hair are sticking to his tan skin, a bead of sweat trickles down his chest before dripping onto yours. his palms are planted firmly on either side of you, veins popping out along his sinewy arms as muffled grunts form in his throat.

your walls are closing in tighter around him, both of you can feel it. his name is leaving your lips in broken syllables, coming out in huffs with the force of his thrusts: “kae-ya…y-you…fuck…g-gon-na…” is all you can manage before he fucks your next orgasm right out of you. you’re pawing at his chest, crying his name, clenching so hard around him you’d push him out were it not for him pounding into you harder, fighting to stay inside, determined to fuck you all the way through it with his brow furrowed and jaw clenched.

his balls ache, but he’s able to hold out for a few more seconds before the coil snaps inside him. he swears and pulls out quickly, his narrow hips still jerking and his arm flexing as he spills his hot, sticky seed out onto your belly and tits. you watch the pleasure wash over his beautiful face as his cock twitches in his own hand, a groan giving way to a satisfied sigh as the last of his cum oozes from his slit.

one at a time, he lowers your feet to the bed on either side of him. both of you are out of breath, chests heaving as kaeya dips down and licks a glob of his still-warm semen from your skin before bringing his mouth to yours. you moan in his mouth at his flavor, eagerly swirling your tongue around his to let him feed you his fresh, salty cum. 

when he rolls off of you, both of you just lie on your backs in comfortable silence for a few moments, catching your breaths and basking in the afterglow. 

“i guess this means you’ll be leaving soon, hm?” you finally ask. 

with one knee bent, kaeya turns his head to look at you as you gaze up at the ceiling. “is that your way of kicking me out of your bed?” he asks with a forced smirk. 

“no,” you chuckle. “i just didn’t take you for the type to stick around after a one-night stand…” you turn onto your side to face him. “but if i’m being honest, i really don’t want you to leave.”

“just how big of a whore do you think i am?” kaeya asks, contriving to sound offended and making you chuckle. he mirrors you and rolls onto his side, tenderly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “i’m glad you want me to stay. i’ve had more fun with you tonight than i’ve had in a really long time.”

“is that right?” you say, biting your lip and dragging a fingertip down his enticing cleavage. “then why should our fun end?” you lean in and kiss him, his lips meeting yours softly.

“i didn’t say it should...” kaeya says before pressing his lips to yours again.

you press your hand against his chest, prompting him to lay on his back. goosebumps rise to meet your lips when you kiss his tan neck. he leans his head back and gasps quietly when you gently palm his softened cock. your touch is exquisite. he wants more of you but first he’s content to enjoy the wet kisses you leave along his skin as you work your way down to one of his dark and tightly budded nipples.

you smile and look up at him when he moans your name at the feeling of your tongue flicking over what’s proving to be one of his most sensitive spots. continuing on down, you take your time ghosting sweet kisses along the valley of his taut abs, all the way down to his cute navel and blue happy trail. you’re appreciating the time and care he obviously puts into his manscaping when you wrap your fingers around his still-sticky cock, surprised to find it so hard again already. 

with a couple of fingers holding his base, you swirl your tongue around his salty cockhead and fuck he tastes good. you close your lips around his tip and give it a little suckle before popping off again to kiss the underside of his rigid shaft. you can still taste yourself on him too, somehow making you want to suck him even more. 

sliding his slender fingers into your hair, kaeya mutters, “y/n…please…”

you finally take him in your mouth, your saliva coating him as you slowly sink down until his tip touches the back of your throat before hollowing your cheeks and pulling back towards his tip. with a slight tremble of his open legs, kaeya’s fingers tighten in your hair - not to control your pace or depth, but because the sheer pleasure coursing through him has all of his muscles tightening. 

“ahh~ feels so…nnh~” he sighs as you take him in again, “...good.”

the sounds and words leaving his mouth are going straight to your pussy. you want to know just how good you can make him feel so after a little more cocksucking, you pull off him and move to straddle his hips.

you and kaeya hold eye contact as you line him up with your slit, dragging his tip between your pussy lips a few times. you’ll never forget the pleading look in his eye or the way his lips part when his blunt, leaking tip catches on your opening and you begin to lower yourself on his length. kaeya takes your hands in his, intertwining your fingers as your eyes flutter shut at the sensation of being filled once again with his girth.

you lean down to kiss him as you begin to ride him, slowly at first but gradually working yourself into a frenzy. kaeya’s hands grip your hips as you pop your ass on him, gliding along his filling cock. your moans turn to whimpers as you feel yourself approaching another orgasm and you start bucking your hips. 

“ka-hahh~ kaeya…” you sit up, your hands anchoring themselves to his chest, using his body as leverage to drag your clit along his happy trail. 

kaeya’s fingertips are digging into the plush of your butt, aiding your thrusts as he whispers words of encouragement. “that’s it, y/n. you’re doing so well…fucking me right…you’re almost there, keep going~”

and just like that, your fingertips dig into the muscle of his chest as your orgasm rips through you. you’re crying his name out over and over as you spasm all around him and the very fibers of your being feel like they’re being torn asunder until your body begins to go limp. kaeya welcomes you into his embrace as you lower your chest to his, your hot breath bathing his neck as you try to catch it, still whining here and there as he kisses the side of your head and tells you how fucking amazing you are.

with some of your strength and mind returning, you rise just enough to kiss him again, finding a fleeting look of sheer adoration in his eye before he lifts your hips and pulls out of you, his rock hard, creamy cock slapping against his happy trail. he moves you onto your belly while he positions himself behind you, pulling your weak hips up until you’re presenting for him.

“is this okay?” he mutters, dragging his tip along your quivering slit.

eyes still closed, you nod weakly against the bed. “ye-yes…please, kaeya~”

with one hand on your lower back, he guides his cock inside you before hooking both his hands around your hips. he fucks you slowly, pulling almost all the way out before sinking himself fully inside your heat again. but it isn’t long before kaeya’s wet hips are slapping against your ass and he’s watching the creamy ring you’re leaving on his cock, mesmerized by how beautifully it contrasts with his darker skin. the thick vein on top of his cock is rolling under the pressure of your tight, sucking cunt - every time kaeya thrusts inside you. 

you’re whimpering again. “s-sir kaeyaaa~” you whine at him over your shoulder. 

“love it when you call me that…” he pants.

“i- hahh~ i know~” you say with a sly, exhausted smile. 

his balls are tightening again - rolling around in his sac as the muscles around them seek to force his seed out again, making him moan and exhale a long “ah, fuuuuuck~” behind you. “gonna cum…”

after a few more stuttered thrusts, kaeya buries himself deep inside you, his tightened balls pressed hard against your clit as he unloads himself. “i’m...nggh...i'm cumming~” he can’t help but moan loudly as he coats your walls with his hot, milky seed. a couple of thick globs leak from the rim of your hole, and drip down his tight, dark-skinned balls.

kaeya nearly collapses on top of you, but manages to land on the bed beside you, pulling you close to him. you’re facing each other but your eyes are still closed as you both kiss whatever part of the other’s body or face is closest, too exhausted to mutter a single word. 

⊹✧˚｡⋆

dawn comes, bringing with it her harsh light. your eyes flutter open with a squint, turning away from it only to find an arm lying limply around you. 

oh. oh right. that happened. 

you smile weakly at the fresh memories of your drunken fuckfest with the cavalry captain of the knights of favonius.

the fact that your duties in mondstadt have been fulfilled and you’ll be leaving to return to your homeland give you a low, sinking feeling in your heart. after a few minutes of replaying the events of the previous night and considering your options, you gingerly move the cavalry captain’s arm off your body - slowly and carefully so as not to wake him. 

⊹✧˚｡⋆

kaeya wakes with a groan, his eye blinking open to find himself alone in the hotel bed. he sits up and looks around, calling your name once but to no avail. he thinks ‘how predictable’ when he realizes you left without even saying goodbye. he tries to ignore the ache in his chest, reminding himself that he should be used to it by now. he throws the covers back to start getting dressed when from the corner of his eye he catches something flutter: a folded piece of parchment that had been resting on your pillow. a thread of hope dares to weave its way through his heart as he picks it up and begins to read:

“you looked so handsome and peaceful in the morning light, i didn’t want to wake you. thank you…for everything, but especially for the night before. i don’t want to call it “last” night because i truly hope it wasn’t our last. please reach out if you feel the same. i’d love for you to visit my homeland so i can be your tour guide and return the favor…i’d love to see you again, sir kaeya alberich…”

you’d signed it with your name and a simple, small heart before writing your address below your signature.

a couple of days later, you receive a letter inside an envelope with the seal of the knights of favonius. 

“of course i feel the same. our time together was far too delightful to have been so brief. i would love to visit you and experience all that your homeland has to offer. the acting grand master has been urging me to take some time off to relax anyway. so just tell me when and i’ll be there with bells on. we’ll paint the town red and enjoy as many more nights together as you please, my lady.”

— sir kaeya

kaeya m.list | main m.list

⊹✧˚｡⋆ 18+ reblogs, likes, comments, and follows always appreciated !! i give you all kithkith !!

[nanamis-bigtie]

Hi!

Love your writing! I'm sorry to hear your WIPs are getting to be a bit overwhelming at the moment. Saw your message about the prompts, and here's what caught my eye.

I would like to request Ino Takuma and an AFAB reader with either voyeur, drip or lap. (Planning in case of repeat prompt with other requesters)

If possible, I'd very much like Ino to be the dominant partner in the interaction, as in he's doing whatever the action is to the reader.

I hope the prompts help spark inspiration 💜

Thank you!

Hi! Thank you for your suggestion and concern ❤ I'm feeling a bit better already!

cw: ino x gn afab!reader, ino being slightly more dominant, fingering, biting | divider by saradika | send me a prompt

There's a subtle change in Takuma's expression when he wants to play different. It's the shadow under his eyelashes with lids dropped lower than usual. It's the faint smirk in the corner of his lips. It's the twitch of his cheek when he nibbles on its inner side. He would love to bite something else and it betrays his plans.

"C'mere," he pats his lap, cheerful and playful as always, but now you know it's better to listen.

So, you do and perch yourself there, coy, with legs clenched close. Not too tightly, though, for his hands to sneak between your thighs with ease.

"Why so tense?" He traces nose up your neck, looking for the most delicious spot to snack on. Meanwhile, his hand doesn't stop just at your crotch; it quickly sneaks up and under the elastic band of your home-worn sweatpants, and goes straight to your underwear and further.

"I'm not gonna eat ya," he lets out an amused exhale, his hot breath tickling you behind your ear. And his teeth are on you right after, sinking into your neck right at the delicious thin line between teasing and pain.

You squirm in his lap, more for what some teasing is worth—but you know he wants you to struggle at least a little.

Takuma wraps an arm around you and pulls you close, trapping you for the mercy—or the lack of it—of his lips and fingers. For the fang of spice, he's still somewhat gentle, not sliding anything in until he's built you moist and relaxed with simple strokes and rubbing your clit.

"I like when you clench on me like this," he breathes against your lips, chasing your shyly averted face. He keeps his kisses shallow, to speak and coo whenever he wants, to let you whine whenever he gets the right spot.

And with how well he knows you, it doesn't take long to press one that has you breaking your role and squirming for real, your walls fluttering around his fingers in desperate attempt to keep him there.

"Now, I like it even more when you're honest with me."

[merbear25]

May I request Prompt 17 for the 200 Followers Event with America x fem/gn reader? With a hint of some NSFW elements but mostly SFW fluffy love confession type stuff? tysm!!!

Hey, hey! Thank you for sending in this request! I decided to just go with SFW mushy gushy stuff, so I hope you still like it! 💜💜

Liquid courage

CW: SFW, gn!reader, fluff, drunk confession, friends to lovers trope

That week was giving you a run for your money, leaving you wanting to unwind to the fullest with your closest friend―Alfred. You were each other's go to when you needed to have a good time and let go of the stress encompassing your lives. There was hardly a time you were together when you weren't enjoying yourselves; he was a one of the only friends you had that put as much into the relationship as you did, earning your full trust.

When a mutual friend invited you and Alfred to a party, you were on the verge of taking them up on it, but the promise you'd made to your parents to help them move echoed in your ears. Apologizing to the friend, you encouraged Alfred to go without you and enjoy himself, since he needed this just as much as you did. You were still planning to meet up with him the following day, so it wasn't like you'd be missing out on that much quality time together.

To your misfortune, your folks were moving a couple of cities over, claiming your entire day and creeping into the early hours of the evening. When you returned home, your phone started buzzing. You couldn't help but smile while Alfred sent you videos of him and others playing beer pong and doing keg stands, to which you responded with your usual playful comments.

However, as the night went on, the texts were getting a bit more flirtatious: heart and kiss emojis being his favorite. None of these really struck you as out of the ordinary, though. You knew him well enough to understand that this was a regular occurance when he drank. That being said, you were missing him more than usual, so you decided to play into those exchanges.

Putting your phone down, you smiled to yourself while you were getting ready for bed. Going into the next room, you didn't hear your phone buzzing and by the time you returned, it'd stopped, letting you drift off to sleep with a clueless grin from the coy messages on your face.

When you woke up, you saw that he'd left you a voicemail, which was a couple of minutes long. Playing it, your heart skipped a beat as you listened to him express his true feelings for you: talking about how wonderful he thought you are, how attractive you were, how hard it was for him to see you date others, and that you should be with somone who could appreciate you―someone like him.

Hearing him pour his heart out to you, even if it was when he'd been drinking, was giving you food for thought: how did you feel about him? Were last night's exchanges more than just flirting? Traveling to meet up with him, you took advantage of that time, making sure you had the chance to ponder your relationship with him.

Upon seeing each other, he appeared to be his normal happy go lucky self, seemingly unphased by what happened the night before. There was no mention of the flirtatious back and forth, let alone the confession that'd been sitting in your voicemail.

You were patiently waiting for him to bring it up, but you quickly understood that he either had no recollection of it or was just avoiding it all together. Taking the matter into your own hands, you called attention to it, "Do you remember getting drunk and calling me last night?"

Panic danced in his eyes as he relived last night's events. There was a faint memory of him calling you, but he'd assumed it was a drunken dream.

He cleared his throat before attempting to laugh it off, "Sometimes alcohol can make us do the craziest things." His face was flushing from the uncertainty of how you might feel regarding his proclamation of love for you.

Taking a moment to really look at him, seeing him as the one who'd always been there for you, the one that had never and would never do you harm, a faint flutter in your heart began.

Smiling, you took him by the hand. Without saying anything, your answer was clear. Walking hand in hand, he let out a sigh of relief after finally being given the chance to have something more with you.

[crimsonedquill]

Hello friend! I’m so glad there’s more HL content and yours makes me very happy. I had to follow! May I request Imelda x f!mc? Something along the lines of them realizing they have feelings for each other after the third broom race? Thank you! 💜💜

Yes yes yes thank you for this prompt! I love writing Imelda, there aren't enough fics of her out there 🖤

Catching Wind (Imelda Reyes x f!MC)

Tags: Fluff, soft Imelda, confessing feelings

Someone’s pride was hurt. And it wasn’t MC’s.

She gracefully landed her broom in front of the Slytherin, trying not to come off too cocky as she gave her her best winner’s smile. “Well?”

“Oh, all right then,” Imelda scoffed, throwing her hands up in the air. “Just don’t get too comfortable up there. I’ll be on your heels before you know it.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” MC smiled, extending her hand. “It’s been fun racing you, Imelda.”

Imelda looked at the outstretched hand before rolling her eyes. “Ugh, why do you always have to be like this?”

“I’m sorry, like what?”

“You know what I mean. This whole… humble sportsmanship act. Don’t tell me you don’t feel at least a little bit like gloating over beating me.”

“Maybe,” MC said with a shrug of her shoulders, “but that doesn’t take away from what I said. I do genuinely enjoy racing against you.”

Imelda crossed her arms. She didn’t know why MC was being so coy with her, though she had to admit the challenge was hardly something to be resisted. Prying people open was in many ways not too different from Quidditch: keep your eyes on the target and don’t let go until you score.

“Indulge me,” she ordered. “Do you really like broom flying so much that you came all the way out here, just to beat me in a little game without anyone to see it?”

“I could ask the same of you,” MC retorted. “I know you’re passionate about flying, but…”

“But?”

“You tell me. Is there an ulterior motive at play here?”

They regarded each other, two girls in their flying attire, locked in a silent battle of wits. Imelda couldn’t deny she felt a rush of excitement, and she couldn’t even put her finger on precisely why. Maybe that was the exciting part, almost like flying blind, only navigating by the quickening beats of her heart.

“There might be,” she said, making an honest effort to keep her voice steady. “Far be it from me to venture any guesses.”

“I think you’re a bit more adventurous than that.” MC took a step towards her. Imelda noticed she didn’t feel the least bit inclined to put a stop to it. “What do you think you’re doing?” she taunted.

“I was under the impression that a reward was in order. Or do I seem to have gotten that wrong?”

My oh my. I must give her credit, she certainly knows how to get a girl excited.

A mischievous smirk played on Imelda’s lips. “You didn’t really think I was that easy to get, did you?”

MC opened their mouth to respond, but by then the Quidditch captain had already summoned and mounted her broom, flashing her a smile that made her shiver with primal delight.

“Let’s see how you fare in a real race,” she said, and she took off without warning, leaving MC scrambling to get on their broom and take after her. Imelda laughed, quickly picking up speed as she soared over cliffs and beaches, navigating the uneven terrain with an ease that left her competitor soon far behind. She relished the way she rode the wind, revelling in a sense of freedom she never felt quite as strongly as now, with a broom between her legs and the ground beneath her turning to a blur.

Yet she didn’t fail to notice the way her thoughts kept drifting off to MC. Was there even a point to denying that what was going on between them extended beyond innocent flirtations? Of course, she’d had her share of flings, but every single one of her previous partners had never been able to keep up with her, always either falling to her brash character or her competitive spirit. They never seemed to understand that she wasn’t looking for easy, or simplicity for that matter. She was meant to be chased, to be pursued until the ends of the earth… and maybe, just maybe, there would be time for a speck of affection between all of the adrenaline and excitement.

She landed on a small plateau and waited for MC to arrive. They finally appeared thirty seconds later, landing in the small patch of grass in front of her.

“I see you’re not all talk,” MC said with a smile that made Imelda’s heart involuntarily skip a beat. How does she manage to be so irresistible, it’s like she knows exactly how to speak her language –

“Frankly, I’m disappointed,” Imelda retorted. “I thought you were actually going to try this time?”

MC shrugged. “I suppose I got distracted by the view before me.”

An uncharacteristic shade of crimson coloured the Slytherin’s freckled cheeks. Surely she’s just joking, right? She has to be…

MC put her broom down, stepping closer once more. “So, about that reward…”

“What about it?”

“You mean you’re really going to ignore what’s going on here?”

She looked MC in the eye before averting her gaze, a sigh escaping her lips. MC’s expression immediately softened. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you really have to ask?” She looked back, redness still high in her cheeks. “I think I’m beginning to like you, that’s what’s wrong.”

MC didn’t seem the least bit fazed by her confession. “Well, I’m sure I’m not that bad –”

“You don’t understand. I’m not girlfriend material, MC. I can’t give you warmth, or affection, or bring you flowers and tell you how beautiful you are. The moment it feels like my life is slowing down, I get afraid and jump on my broom to fly away from everything, and everyone. And you… you deserve better than that.”

Her voice was hoarse as she spoke, trailing off until it was but a whisper lost in her throat. She couldn’t bring herself to look MC in the eye, so she was slightly surprised when she walked up to her and took her gloved hands, enveloping them in her own.

“Imelda,” MC spoke, their voice clear and strengthened by determination, ��listen to me. When I said I enjoyed flying with you, I meant it. I wondered whether my feelings were just a simple adrenaline rush, and I still can’t say with full confidence that they aren’t. But what I am confident about is that spending time with you… feels right. And even though I don’t know where I’ll end up once I step on that broom with you, I sure as hell am willing to give it my best shot.”

The heavy rhythm of their heartbeats was the only thing to puncture the silence between them. Imelda finally dared to look up to her companion, her crush, this strange person that somehow seemed to have her entirely figured out, yet without making her feel vulnerable.

“Sappy doesn’t suit you,” she said, a smirk inevitably tugging at her lips.

“Nor you,” MC chuckled. “So how about we just kiss and see where that takes us?”

Imelda didn’t have the patience to mutter an answer. Her lips had been on a collision course with MC’s the moment she said she was willing to take the plunge, so it didn’t take much to wrap her arms around MC’s neck and pull her in so hard that she knocked her off her feet. MC’s tongue gently pressed against her lips to seek entrance, and she gleefully granted it, tasting her newfound lover with a desire that left her only aching for more. MC’s hands sneaked around to the small of her back before gripping her butt, their moans meeting in supreme delight. When they briefly pulled back for air, Imelda couldn’t help but allow herself a moment to savour the glowing face of her partner, the blissful energy of their embrace.

“I hope you know I’m still not letting you win,” she uttered between deep breaths.

“Bring it on,” MC said with a smirk, before the rest of her words were smothered by Imelda’s mouth.

[aniron48]

Hey

Sorry for being completely random, and diving into your asks, but I remembered that a story of yours referenced Marvell's To His Coy Mistress, and I recently came across this.

(Which you may well know already, but if not, it's definitely worth passing on/sharing. I think. )

(Not written by a woman, unfortunately, but still.)

Cheers

Ahhhh this is so cool! Thanks so much @margot-le-snail, this is awesome. Sharing the link here for everyone else.

The exchange reminds me a bit of the dialogue between "Passionate Shepherd to His Love" by Christopher Marlowe and "The Nymph's Reply to the Shepherd" by Sir Walter Raleigh. Have you seen those?

Never apologize for bringing poetry to my inbox! And it's lovely to hear from you, thanks for sharing this. 💜

[ink-and-dagger]

I'm making my answers that small text cause get ready for a WALL of text

6. Something I remember vividly from reading one of your fics

I remember stumbling on DWM during a week I had given myself off from work for my birthday and to recover from a con and just PLOOWWWWWING through it. I ended up a little late to a lunch party because I was glued to my phone on the couch reading the cigar scene and as soon as the kiss happened I was like FUCK I HAVE TO LEAVE NOW BUT I WANNA KEEP READING and being totally not normal at all during the drive to the lunch and having to remind myself how to be normal around people.

7. What made me the most emotional after reading

"He followed you. He came for you and saved your life and remained at your bedside and still he cannot bring himself to tell you how he feels—"

This line right here, officer. This line SHATTERED me. The heartache at the end of 17 DEVASTATED me. I cried the first time I read it and then, because I'm a masochist that loves a good cry, I read it again right before bed and cried again.

The thing that got me was that the angst was not this melodramatic thing. It was this mature kind of ache, the kind that comes from two adults who have gone through shit. Both Astrid and Silco are so true to their characters in this scene and that's what makes it hurt so beautifully because it doesn't feel shoehorned, it doesn't feel forced. And it's a familiar heartache, personally, of knowing that you need to give someone space for them to heal by themselves and work their own shit out internally because it's not only best for them but best for YOU. Because it's not fair to yourself to cling to them as much as you want to.

Okay I have to stop because I can go on and on and on about DWM and how it forever rewired my brain chemistry and how it is the reason I started writing TMSA.

Thank you Inky for blessing us with your brain.

Excuse me for hoarding this for a hot second whilst I felt the things.

COI. This is in my pick me up folder forever now. Thank you so damn much 💜💜💜💜💜

[ilikemymendarkandfictional]

Coi making me tear up over here 😭 I love it so much. Thank you again! 💜

Letters from Silco—Without You

This is a letter from Silco to @purplefangirl42's OC Lil from her fic "Who We Were." (If you haven't read it, you absolutely should!) I hope I did your wonderful protagonist justice!

Word count: 223

Tags: Silco x Olilia/Lil, Silco x OC, angst, set before the events of Arcane, set after Vander's betrayal, set before the events of Who We Were

Olilia,

I thought it prudent given the nature in which we left things

I am writing to inform you that I am, despite what you might have heard, not dead.

I miss you.

Lil,

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for leaving. I'm sorry for not coming back. I'm sorry for breaking my promise. And I'm sorry that you'll never get the chance to actually read this letter.

I can make some excuse—my monstrous face, my crippling rage—but you would see right through that, wouldn't you? You always do. Nothing ever gets past you.

Perhaps that's why I stayed away.

If I had come back, if you had known what I intended to do, you never would have allowed me to continue. I have plans—a vision—for the whole of the Undercity. And I must do terrible, ugly things to achieve that vision. Things I know you would not approve. Things you would tell me not to do. But I can't fight a revolution without weapons; I cannot instill fear in my enemies—our enemies—without power.

And Lil, my sweet Lil, I get closer and closer to that goal each day. I can see the Nation of Zaun so clearly; it's so close I can almost reach out and grasp it. 

But what is the point?

What's the point of all of this?

If it's without you?

Fun fact: the crumpled papers are actual first attempts at the letter lolol

If you would like a (digital copy) of a Silco letter of your own, check out this post for details on how to request one!

Taglist: @averagecrastinator @mazikomo @writingmysanity @insult-2-injury @ariaud @jennrosefx @ins0mniac-whack @steponmesilco  @sherwood-forests @leave-me-alone-silco @givemebeansnow @aeryntheofficial @dreamyonahill @lostbunn @eurydicethesage @thepineapplesimp @whatisafandom @violet-19999 @juicboxd @sageandberries-png @delta-is-here @beardedladyqueen @sirenofzaun

Join my taglist!

[afreakingdork]

Crush Too Much - Part 5

RotTMNT Donatello x GN!Reader

Warnings: Light Angst, Fluff, Embarrassment, Overbearing Siblings, Aged-up Turtles

Synopsis:  So you met a customer three times at work and that made a pretty big impression on you? That’s nothing to necessarily get worked up over, but when you’re all prepared to ask for his number the next time you see him and his brother gets involved instead, you might be in for something more than you bargained for.

FIRST 💜 PREVIOUS

Regretting your decision to opt for the less expensive pair weighed on your mind as you blew warm air into your gloved hands. Winter was in full swing, but neither the current nor impending cold of the evening had yet to freeze your warm spirits. To say the stars had aligned over your last three months would be an understatement. Though you had met up with him in a few fleeting times after work, Donnie and you now texted on a daily basis. They weren’t earth shattering conversations, but you felt confident enough to text him even if you were just bored. While he seemed borderline nocturnal, he was never one to ignore a message. He indulged you at your silliest and was there for you as much as he could be if you were stressed out. The fall semester finals had been particularly draining, but finding a care package left for you at work containing your favorite snacks and a library map on helpful books is the only time you'd almost been brought you to tears. He was never overly sweet, but he paid attention and that mattered just as much if not more.

Your hands warmed, you stuffed them into your pockets to retain the heat. Keeping your arms close to your body, you took a few lazy steps in a circle on the corner you were waiting at.

Your others friends had started to pick up on the way you stared at your phone. You were coy about it, but their cheeky smiles spoke volumes. Your ability to maneuver these goading situations had been greatly amplified by the time you had spent with Leo. In a far lower frequency than Donnie, you’d texted with the blue-themed man. He was far less interested in messages and more in the capers you executed. He often only began a digital conversation with the intent of planning the next outing. Since your first gallery crash, he’d successfully ushered you as his cohort into two other events thus far. They mostly revolved around him rubbing elbows, but he’d always sneak in that same question he’d been asking about your feelings.

Ruminating over the time you’d known the Hamatos made you realize you hadn’t spoken to Leo since your last outing. You shrank down into your coat as you remembered Leo last asking his question just as you were about to leave. You’d dropped the defining ‘like’ word to describe your feelings for Donnie before literally taking off. Had he been ignoring you because you could only admit it by essentially running away after?

“There you are.” Donnie’s voice drifted in from your left and all other concerns seemed to evaporate. You tried to keep the twinkle in your eye to a minimum as you rounded on a heel to greet him. He was, of course, dressed in his winter clothes and though you had seen them before, your heart still skipped a beat. It took a lot of will power to not play with the flaps of his trapper hat. You loved how they were just a winterized version of his goggles.

“Was I hard to spot?” It was one of the few times you were thankful for your mouth moving faster than your mind could keep up.

“Not at all.” He tipped his head to one side, his half-cocked smile stretching across his face. “At first glance with everyone bundled up you would think so, but every person carries themselves a little differently.”

“Vigilant as always.” You noted, rolling on the balls of your feet. He nodded languidly and from within your coats pockets you fumbled to locate a folded piece of paper. “I could spot you no matter how big the crowd though.”

“I would make a joke about my devilishly good looks, but I know exactly what you’re going to say.” He slumped at the missed opportunity.

“Purple?” You mused, pulling a hand out victorious.

“Purple.” He snapped back dryly. “Is that the pass? I can’t believe you actually printed it; so very archaic of you.”

“And just liked we discussed before, part of the email said you have to come with printed passes. Sure, there was also a QR code, but I didn't want to get it wrong.” You pouted and unfurled the paper.

“The fact that they have an inconsistency of that nature doesn’t reflect well on our plans for the evening.” He held out his hand and you passed him the form.

“Sure, the whole thing is really loose, but we also get to see a movie for free and before everyone else so…” You drew out the syllable goading him.

He rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth was upturned. “’Win, win.’”

“Exactly! Let’s go get in line!” You spun around and marched toward the theater with Donnie in tow.

“How many of these showings have you gone to?” He wondered.  

“This is my third one since I found out about it maybe… a year ago?”  You tilted your head trying to remember the first movie you’d seen this way.

“So you and a guest,” He gestured to the both of you. “See a movie for free in a showing set up by the studio’s distribution department in an attempt to garner word of mouth?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” You slowed as the theater’s bright lights loomed overhead.

Donnie made a small hum of frustration as he studying the passes he still held. “I keep looking for some sort of fine print or detail on the larger machinations of the principle. The logistics of the ploy just don’t seem like they’d play out in the movie’s favor.”

“Still thinking it over?” You giggled. “You worried about it so much over text, but you’re still here.”

“I want to see this film.” His head snapped to you with a deadly serious expression.

You bit your lip to keep more laughter from bubbling up. His staunch attitude was so cute. “I mean you know the catch…” As if on cue the two of you approached the sectioned off line where about 7 people were already queued.

“Ah yes, the nefarious ‘first come, first serve.’” Donnie narrowed his eyes as the two of you maneuvered your way behind the ropes. “In this weather it is an obvious ploy to weed out the weak. Those left standing will be the harsher critics.” It was as if an ancient duty had been placed on his shoulders.

“If we’re supposed to critique it more, wouldn’t that not help the whole ‘word of mouth’ thing?” You posed the question knowing it would frustrate him.

His lips pursed in annoyance and he glared at the paper as he reclined against the brick exterior of the theater. Behind him, you pressed a shoulder against the cold wall and listened as he listed off reasons the showing took place publicity to pre-screen runs. You wondered how long he had scoured the internet for research. You’d later pat yourself on the back with how good you were at multitasking. It took great still to simultaneously absorb all his information while both using the time as an excuse to appreciate the glory of him. Using a finger to draw in the air he made a poignant note about how seats in the theater is the optimal view were reserved for critics in an official capacity. You used the motion of warming your gloved hands yet again, but this time as a means to hide the adoring smile spread on your face. The texting was fine, but being able to watch him dispense large swaths of information wasn’t even a contest. You had it so bad.

“To sum it up, there’s just a frustrating lack of clarity.” Donnie groaned, pushing off the wall and taking a few steps in place to shake off the problem that had no real solution.

“That’s probably it.” Your speech adding heated moisture to your fingertips. “I bet they keep us in the dark so they can do whichever of those they want.”

“Make the terms vague so the signing party can’t protest them since they aren’t outlined…” Donnie nodded as he digested the information. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

“Who’s nefarious now?” You chuckled, now leaning your head against the brick and committing to the tilted angle your body was at.

“I never said that I wasn’t.” Donnie tilted his head and gave a nonchalant grin that caused that all familiar stomach flip you’d never get used to. He was far too lethal for his own ignorant good.

“Bad guys get ticket responsibility then.” You needed to switch gears so you nodded to the paper still in his hand.

He reviewed it lightly before folding it along the lines you had created earlier. “I’ll guard it with my life.”

“I wouldn’t go that far!” You joked, feigning to roll your eyes at the dramatics. A small silence fell and you watched Donnie shove the square into his own jacket pockets along with his hands. The cold wasn’t unbearable, but the next hour and a half standing in it would surely push your limits. You blinked before screwing your eyes shut. You had gotten so caught up in the sudden euphoria of meeting Donnie that you completely forgot your ulterior motive for the evening. You would have beaten yourself up further if it weren’t for the close proximity of your companion. You withheld a sigh and opened your eyes with renewed determination: you were going to use this time trapped in a line to finally figure out what on earth the man did for a living.

Going over the facts again, it wasn’t exactly as if he’d been dodging the question; you hadn’t asked him outright. You’d pieced together a few things. What he did, his brothers seemed to do also. He was an inventor. He’d sent photos of few minors mechanical objects he had been working on in what looked like a full blown lab setting. He’d mentioned fixing a myriad of things so he had technical ability across a tremendous amount of fields. His family seemed to consist of 2 dads, 3 blood brothers, an April O’Neil, and what seemed to be 3 separate Caseys. It all meant he had a seemingly unlimited amount of funds, schooling that outpaced his age by several decades, and the close confidence of a New York star reporter. None of those things seemed to add up to any specific career and it was driving you crazy.

Refreshed on the details, you prepared to address him. You weren’t sure if you were going to ask outright, but you at least had a solid time frame. In the time you’d been quiet, you were sure he’d already be scrolling his phone. It had never divided his focus before, but there was always a slim chance this could be the time it created some sort of conversational buffer. Sweeping your gaze to him, you jolted as he seemed to be watching you casually with his phone nowhere in sight. You shrank into the rim of your jacket and briefly wondered if he could read minds.

“How did the meeting with your academic advisor go?”

All those movies about having your breath taken away were all simultaneously right and wrong. There were correct in that it was something that could happen, but woefully mistaken when it came to the circumstances. You couldn’t believe he remembered something noted in a casual text almost two weeks ago. “It…” It took so much willpower to not physically wheeze. “It went good. I’m on track for graduation!”  

“Still not sure what you’ll do after?” He shifted his weight from one leg to the other. What had you done to receive such good karma?

“No, I’m still torn between masters or going straight into the work force.” You hiked your shoulders up because being tucked into your jacket was sort of cozy. “I could and should probably worry about it more, but the classes have gotten so advanced my focus just tends to be funneled into a day by day.”

He nodded in a way that seemed knowing and that’s when it occurred to you that your karma was twice what you’d even considered. He was laying out the ideal groundwork for your evening’s question. It was so perfect it felt like even meeting him initially had been leading up until now. “Y-you’d know right? Are you like a lab tech or something?” Served in a silver platter and yet you still stuttered. You imagined a picture of your face plastered under the definition of mortified.

He laughed brightly at the question. “Nothing of the like.”

You were now mentally making a list of eliminated possibilities. “Oh, then the lab is…?”

“It’s mine. I’ve had one since I was young.” He seemed amused. “I remember the first thing I ever repaired was papa’s remote. He was happy until he realized it controlled every electrical appliance in the house. You think he would have enjoyed the ease of being able to activate the stove for tea and turn on the fan with a single device, but one fire starts and suddenly your first creation is smashed into a million pieces!” The emotional charting from fond memories to trauma was a steep graph when it came to Donatello.

You balked. Was he some kind of comic book billionaire’s son genius? “Did you explain it to him?” The question seemed to fall out of your mouth.

Still at an emotional crest, Donnie seemed to freeze and then mull the matter over. “I suppose an argument could be made that I was just an innocent tot…”

“AKA you didn’t tell him.” You hide your mouth with a gloved hand to bite back a snicker.

“Look, you’re new to the subject of my delicate youth so I’ll give you some brevity, but let’s just say that trying to maneuver the confusing emotional landscape of being told that you are both not supposed to over explain a present while simultaneously being asked to create such isn’t a line that’s easy to maneuver.” He flatted his hand out in demonstration of the segment that had been drawn for him as a kid.

Considering you didn’t even know what he did for a living, asking about his childhood trauma didn’t seem like the best topic to pursue. If you ever did get that close though, you absolutely had a few choice words for whichever parent seemed to have starved Donnie emotionally. Until then, you’d skirt the topic. “Yeah, that’s a lot for a kid to process, but so is having their own lab?”

“I didn’t start out with a full-service lab.” He tipped his head as if that should have been an obvious fact. “I slowly built one up gathering materials from around the lair and expanded slowly to scrap yards and the like.”

You were torn between asking about the use of ‘lair’ again vs. the fact that he built what looked like a fortune 500 backed venture with his own two hands. Your mouth chose to land you somewhere in-between. “You must have grown up in a big place?”

He glanced away with a fond look. “You could say we grew into it.”

Now that one sounded purposely vague, but you weren’t about to give up. “Is it alright for you to be off tonight?”

“Sure, my brothers can pick up the slack once in awhile. If anything goes completely awry they can always contact me. It used to be we could barely be apart, but we’ve gotten more capable with age.” He scuffed the sole of his boot against the pavement.

How long had they been doing this? You were started to reach a breaking point, but just outright asking still seemed not quite right. “They say skill comes with experience.”        

He gave a dry huff of amusement. “I can say for a fact that isn’t the only way to garner it.”

Was he trying to lead you now? You feared getting lost in the hazy conversation. “Donnie, I-”

“How long would you say that we’ve known each other?” He asked, turning a curious eye up to the clouds.

You snapped your gaze to him to find him still looking skyward. He had not only taken control of the conversation, but had steered it away from where you had wanted it to go. It was like he was purposefully trying to keep you on your toes tonight. It was confusing. “Me?” You gaped.

“Yes, I have an idea of when I would date it back to, but I was curious where’d you place it.” He nodded to the sky as if it had given him some sort of answering before turning to gaze at your once again.

Your brow scrunched as you considered his point. Leo’s ongoing, albeit confusing, dialog  had Impressed upon you the importance of analyzing your feelings at each stage. A particular point of those earlier conversations had been when you’d finally gotten Donnie’s name so that seemed like the logical start point. “The night we got bao.”

He hummed lightly in agreeance. “That’s what I would say also.”

He got quiet again and your shoulders drooped as you waited for some sort of signal that he would continue. It left the two of you seemingly caught in a sort of staring contest, waiting for the other to make the first move. Your gaze was pulled downward as a twitching started around Donnie’s left shoulder. You tilted your head as you watched it spread down his arm. His right hand flew up to grab the appendage and in doing so his body tipped forward at the hips. You were finally just about to open your mouth when he sliced through the silence instead.

“Ah, this is awkward, right!? It’s awkward! You have to say it’s awkward!!” As if he had been holding himself back his arms and legs flailed away from his body.

“Huh?” Your voice was meek, but you were definitely gawking owl-eyed.  

“Thiiiiiis!” he dragged out the syllable in a long whine while pointing between the two of you so quickly you could only see a flurry of moment.

You wanted to respond, but only a weak wheeze of air came out of your lips.

“Annnnd I wasn’t supposed to say anything…” He growled with frustration and swung his body until he was gazing up once more. He pinched the bridge of his nose tightly.

“You weren’t supposed to?” You wondered, feeling so very lost.

“Exactly, I can’t keep this up so I’m just going to come clean.” He turned back towards you with his whole body hung with apologetic dangling. “While completely against my character, I know, I had some concerns regarding my personality.”

You would have done a double take if you weren’t already staring right at him.

“It’s easy to acknowledge that you’ve taken the charge in most aspects of our association and, for the record, I want to clarify that this wasn’t being tallied in a competition sense. Instead, after the initial examination of the poorly executed idea of the evening, not yours, the distribution company, I realized that it would be a poor sport of me to force you to make the conversation for the course of our tenure in line.” His arms were drooping down so low that they almost touched the ground.

You were frozen in astonishment. While you had been suffering under your own self-imposed burden, he had been doing the same to himself.

“So, I then came up with a list of talking points, but as I thought about the specifics of trying to force those into a conversation the whole thing just seemed stale.” He rose up incrementally giving a face of distaste. “So I…” He swallowed hard as if bile was rising in his throat. You watched as he straightened his back before buckling immediately under the stress of whatever he was trying to get out. “IendedupconsulltingAngeloonthematter.” He choked the sentence out as quickly as possible before a shiver ran its course through his whole body.  

“Mikey?” You peeped, trying to make some sound come out of your body. You were relatively familiar with the various nicknames Donnie had for his brothers, but he had spoken so fast you almost weren’t sure you’d caught the right one.

“Yes.” He retorted instantly in a heavily defeated tone. “He has this moronic doctor alter-ego that goes by many names, but always retains the same faux doctorate.”

The ridiculous nature of the statement broke through your frozen exterior and elicited a single dry chuckle from your body. “You each have your own quirks, huh?”

Donnie gave you an only mildly scandalized side glance before continuing. “In this particular session, I spoke with Dr. Friendship, who instructed me to put my phone away, pay attention, and focus on asking questions that don’t have to do with me.”

You snorted; that was even funnier. “But you do those things anyway.”

“So, I’ve been trying all evening to-" He went rigid in his otherwise continued explanation and shot you a suspicious though inquisitive stare. “What did you say?”

“I mean, minus the phone, you always pay attention and I’ve never felt not included.” It was so matter of fact your body bobbed with the point.

“You’re not just saying that?” His doubts were still prevalent.

“How many times have I lied to you?” You shot back your own question, finally getting a feel for the conversation again. Everything was falling back into line.

Donnie did some mental calculations before returning his attentions. “Based on what I know so far, everything seems on the up and up although there are claims I currently can’t verify…” He trailed off giving it once more turn in his mind before deciding. “At this present time I suppose I can say you have not.”  

“Then…?” You pressed, trying to get him to say it always meant he’d be more open to an idea.

“Then I worried over all of this for nothing?” He heaved a sigh, his eyes shut with lingering irritation.

“I mean it’s not nothing. It’s ok to worry.” You gave him a reassuring smile.

“Thank goodness!” His voice raised in a means to push out the rest of his frustrations. He followed it up by giving his body a small shake as if he was dislodging the residuals. Something occurred to him in the process that piqued his interest. “It was awkward though, right?”

“I don’t know if I would say awkward, more like… unnatural?” As you tried to put it into words you realized you might have misstep. “N-Not that I would expect you to act a certain way, obviously!”  

He seemed oblivious to your plight as he was caught up in his own scurrility. “Dr. Friendship may have capped the whole presentation off by stressing the importance of ‘being yourself.’” He rubbed his chin with his eyes closed. “This is why you don’t leave an important detail to closing arguments! I was already plotting my strategy by that point!”

You resisted the urge to point out that it made more sense to just wait to plan until an entire lecture was done, but it seemed like a moot point. “I’m glad that’s out of the way though. It was like I didn’t know how to talk to that not quite Donnie Donnie!”

“Exactly!” He pointed a finger towards you. “That’s what tipped me of! It was like you were trying to ask me something, but I wasn’t speaking as I normally would which meant you weren’t able to act like yourself either.” A smile finally graced his lips as all the pieces fell into place for him.

A hot flush warded off the time you’d spent in the cold because that wasn’t exactly right. He had been honest with you though, so it felt more than overdue for you to do the same. “Actually…”

You waited for him to come back from his thoughts and address you. “Go ahead.”

“I was trying to ask you something.” Your eyes dropped down, unable to hold the eye contact. Even Donnie had been able to manage that.

“Oh, is that so?” He added casually. It seemed like he was fine waiting for you to get up the courage.

With your head tipped down you thought maybe it was time to have a little outburst proclamation of your own. “I’ve been going crazy these last 3 months…” You brought your head up and fisted your gloved hands at your sides. “…trying to figure out what the heck it is that you and your brothers do?!”

“What we… do?” Donnie seemed taken aback.

“Yeah! You have a lab! All of you look like you have the muscle mass of gymnasts. You never seem to worry about money. You know a lot of powerful people, but at the same time it’s like no record of you even exists!” As the words tumbled you, you realized you had never tried to look him up, but you were too far gone in that respect. “You live with your family in what you keep calling a lair. Your hours are totally incomprehensible. I’ve heard other wild words thrown around like ‘topside’ and ‘patrol’ like that’s not a big deal! Plus, we haven’t addressed it and none of you are really hiding it, but are we like dancing around the fact that…” You leaned in close and raised a gloved hand like that you had a secret to share. Donnie blinked before lending you an ear. “…you’re mutants…?”

Donnie spit out a breath of air as a laugh took him. You jolted and he leaned back, holding a hand to his stomach. The line around you both had built up since you first queued and a few people looked at him. He wiped away a single tear from his eye before giving you a lopsided grin. “We do keep it on the down low, but we’ve found that over the years that confidence sells an image of normality. If we just act like we blend right in, we usually get less questions about the matter.”

“You laughed so hard…” You weren’t exactly slighted, but it had been weighing so heavily on your mind that the fact it was so hilarious to him seemed unfair.

“Sorry.” His grin could not be dampened. “It’s just a nice change of pace from someone that isn’t loudly talking about how gross we are. You, on the other hand, have been acting like it was a secret to guard?!” His light air tapered off as he heard the words coming out of his mouth. “Ah, no wait, I see now what you are saying…”

“I didn’t want to out you!” You knew it was childish, but your foot gave a little stomp. He turned away and you could tell he had done so to swallow another laugh. “Why you-!” You swatted at his closest arm lightly. “Now I’m the one who worried over nothing!”

He faced you again and held up a hand like a focus mitt. You gave it a few withheld punches before sighing. “Better?”

“Yes…” You grumbled.

“Good.” He nodded with accomplishment and then shifted into a prepared stance. “Let’s clear the air then. Ask away.”  

A puff of surprised air came out of your mouth. “What kind… are you? I can see the green, but it doesn’t seem like lizard…?”

He nodded his head in a way that said he was evaluating your inquiry. “Turtle.”

You resisted the urge to groan and instead pointed to his shoulders. “Then that’s...”

He turned his head to look at what your pointing and made an educated guess. “A shell? Why yes it is.”

At that you couldn’t help but tip your head back. It really seemed obvious. Coming back down from the stars you lifted a curious finger. “Do you mind if I…?”

He raised a brow and studied the digit. “Go ahead.” The response was affirmative, but tense so you were slow about reaching out and poking the finger into his chest. Under the softness of the coat, you could feel the harder plastron.

“I feel so dumb right now…” You flushed, pulling your finger back as you hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Peeking up at Donnie, you saw him biting his lip against more laughter.

He shook his head, but you could tell there was the slightest hitch to the movement. “As for what we do…” He began before folding his arms in a way that meant he was calculating the best description for it. “We… are the protectors of this city.”

“The…?” You started and stopped. The jokes about mafia and super heroes suddenly felt much less absurd. You were sure to lose sleep tonight.

“That may have been a bit dramatic.” Donnie gave a lighthearted sigh before a serious air drew around him. “Do you remember the invasion of New York?”

“I remember being on a cruise ship and then suddenly returning to a devastated city, like everyone else-” You were stating it like a natural fact until you realized Donnie wasn’t immediately commiserating like anyone else would. You could feel the color drain from your face. “Wh-what are you saying?”

He had a faraway look to him. “That my family…” He breathed deeply and then leaned in closer to you as you had to him earlier. His voice dropped down just for you to hear. “…saved the city.”

Since he leaned into your ear and gave you no time to react, you stared ahead. Your eyes grew large as many tidbits of conversation fell into place. You only realized you hadn’t blinked when the cold air started stinging your retinas. You screwed your eyes shut and sank down into your coat. What had you heard? There was always talk of colored vigilantes over the years, but never any concrete evidence that anyone took seriously. Donatello and his brothers, from your perspective, lived in the city without a care in the world. Donnie himself had just mentioned moving with confidence. “How many other times than that?” You asked the question to the ground before turning to look at him shell-shocked.

The gentle look on his face told you more times than he could mention. “That’s…”

“It’s what we do.”

“Incredible.”

His head moved back incrementally at the passion in your voice. It fanned his ego and he brought his chin up haughtily. “I appreciate the comment, citizen!”

You laughed, but caught the eye he peeked open down at you to gauge your reaction. He seemed satisfied, but you had one last major question. “So, where do you live?”

His shiny demeanor dulled ever so slightly. “Let me pose you a question first to get you into the right mindset.”

“Okay…?” You tilted your head curiously.

“Have you ever thought I stunk?” He watched you closely.

You would have laughed if it weren’t for the clear patient gaze he was giving you. You went from disbelief to utter confusion. “No…?”

An arm jutted out right in front of your face. “No?”

You looked between the appendage and him taking the cue that he obviously wanted you to smell his coat. You leaned forward and gave it a sniff and smelled nothing but the faint scent of fabric softener. “No.” You responded firmly. “And I’ve never thought about it before now so it’s safe to say that can go all the way back to when I first met you.”

“Sewers.” He said staunchly, returning his arm to his side.

“Sew-“ You began to parrot back before the word sunk in. You weren’t only colored incredulous, but dyed in it. “H-hold on-?” You raised your hands as if to stave off the confusion. You looked to him for a hint of comedy, but he watched you uninhibited look that hid nothing. You replayed his earlier mentions of the lair and shook your head. Donnie stayed silent and continued to stare expectantly. You turned the thought over a few more times and then looked at him with renewed determination. “But-”

The smallest wince passed over his features.

“You saved the world!?” As soon as the first word left your lips you caught how loud it was going to be and muffled the rest under your gloved hands.

Donnie’s brows shot up with surprise. You weren’t sure what he thought you were going to say, but what you did caught him off guard. His expression softened and one corner of his mouth turned up. “We’ve even saved Bro’s Pizza and we didn’t even get a discount.”

“Quality and no hand outs!” You grinned with dawning memory even if it had been shared with his brother.

Donnie shook his head like it was a simple annoying fact of the universe. Any lingering tautness to his muscles seemed to melt away. He turned as if he was going to say something else when a loud voice cut through the cold air.

“Alright, folks! We’re going to bring you back in just a few minutes here and if you have two people coming in on your pass then both parties better be here or they will not be admitted! Again, be ready, we’ll call you back in just a few minutes, all parties ready! We’ll be giving out wrist bands so I’d recommend getting one, your seat, and then you can feel free to move about the cabin! Thank you!!!”

Any other point disappeared as Donnie’s face scrunched up with distaste. “That was a joke, right?”

“Nope, that’s about what they say every time.” You couldn’t help, but smile.

“Scoff! It’s beyond sloppy!” He looked to you for reassurance, but found amusement instead. He rolled his eyes away from you and narrowed at where the person had just been standing. “I’m going to find them and have a choice word with them after the film.”

“You’re going to make it hard for me to decide which I want to watch more.” You giggled.

He swept a deadpan expression back to you. “Oh, you were coming whether you wanted to or not.”

“Well good thing I do!” You felt light again.

You attitude must have been infectious because Donnie seemed to brighten also. “From now on, we agree to just ask if we have questions, worries, or what not.”

It was less of a question and more of a statement, but the terms were perfectly agreeable. You still had a slew of burning questions about his hero title, but another attendant walked out to direct the line. You could spread the questions out; it meant you had text fodder for weeks to come and that alone was enough to speed up your heart rate. Why had you ever even worried about feeling cold in this weather when you had him by your side? “That sounds perfect, Donnie.”  

NEXT

[emerald-chaos]

Druig & “looking at your crush or lover only to find them already looking at you and when you make eye contact, they smile at you.”

hehehehe i love this so much, baby!!!! Thank you for sending this in and for our boy no less 😉💜. I made this incredibly fluffy, and I hope you enjoy.

Pairing: Druig x Eternal!Reader

Warnings: none that I can think of besides tooth rotting fluff

Word Count: 631

The celebration of Ikaris and Sersi was in full swing–people dancing around the plaza, eating extravagant meals, and sharing laughs with one another. It really was a beautiful sight.

If only Ikaris wasn’t such a bastard.

Druig couldn’t blame Sersi for that, however. No matter what, she always saw the good in people–even where others thought there was none. Sersi was inherently good and that was one of the things Druig had always admired about her.

Tucked away, perched upon a stone railing overlooking the festivities, Druig took another bite into his apple. This kind of thing wasn’t really his scene. Of course, he enjoyed watching the happiness of his friends and of the villagers who so graciously put this together–but he wasn’t much for dancing or large crowds. Here on his perch, he had the perfect view of everything that was going on and was able to help keep the peace if the situation arose.

As he chewed, he pondered on the fact that he hadn’t seen you in what seemed like sometime. Last he recalled you were surrounded by a small group of the local children, taking turns dancing with them and helping them make flower crowns–a sight that warmed even his stone heart. Gazing through the crowd; he found Phastos and Kingo enjoying a large meal, Gilgamesh and Thena clinking together their pints of ale, and of course Ikaris and Sersi together in an embrace in the middle of it all.

Carefully scanning over each and every body, his eyes finally landed on you–only to find you were looking at him too. Druig was not a man who fell speechless very often, but each time he had looked at you tonight he had found himself unable to form any sort of coherent thought. The traditional dress complimented your skin and the smile you wore was sure to have enough warmth to power the village through the winter. Unable to help himself, a coy grin spread across his own lips as you walked toward him–never once breaking eye contact between the two of you.

“Why are you hiding, my love?” Your voice floated into his ears like a beautiful melody. “We’re supposed to be celebrating…remember?”

Druig hopped off from his spot on the railing and took a few steps toward you, taking a large bite out of his apple while he looked you over. A playful laugh erupted from your chest as you rolled your eyes at him. The sound was enough to bring kingdoms to their knees.

“You know I don’t dance.” Druig stated matter-of-factly as he spoke around the apple in his mouth.

“Mmm, well.” You took a step forward, closing the gap between the two of you as you looked up at him with innocent eyes.

“Then what do you say we just sway?”

Before he knew it, Druig was following behind you as you held his hand and guided him toward the middle of the plaza. Although he was the one with the ability to control the mind of any living thing, it seemed as though you were the one with the ability to control his.

Turning to face him with a bright smile and a small giggle, Druig shook his head slightly as he pulled you close into his chest. As you tucked your head into his shoulder, he leaned down to press a kiss to your temple. The music surrounded the two of you as you swayed back and forth–the entirety of the crowd slowly slipping away as though it was just you two who were present. The flowery, clean scent of you filling every corner of his mind as he closed his eyes and held you close.

Druig didn’t dance–but holding you close to him for the next few thousand years didn’t sound half bad.

[oftenderweapons]

“sliding your hands down your lover's chest, unzipping their zipper” just SCREAMS vixen and joon. bonus points if vixen has a quick squeeze of his tiddies as well

Ooooohhh, this turned out so tragically horny and THE PINING RGHHHGHGHGHGHHG I was inspired for this LOL

here you go nonnie!!!

pairing: Namjoon x reader (nicknamed Vixen)

wordcount: 1.1k

genre: drabble, smut, idol!au, established relationship, mild angst (angry flirting)

rating: 18+, minors, do not interact.

Warnings: DDLG (daddy/little girl), playful spank and pinch (male receiving), very risqué teasing. Angry flirting (Namjoon DOES NOT play fair, he makes Vixen jealous). Swearing. Size kink – a huge amount of that. Biting, scratching, marking (female giving). Possessiveness. Sex god!Joon(?). Unprotected sex, ripped panties.

A/N: Thanking @joheunsaram and @nervous-moon for being my beta and hype-people!

Here’s my masterlist, I love you! Enjoy 💜✨

You knew your boyfriend was a menace. He had been genetically engineered by a higher entity to make you weak, babbling, needy and wet.

It was almost tragic. You didn’t know if you had to thank god or curse the devil.

He was just standing, for heaven’s sake.

Standing there, delicious, sweaty, large, and so, so strong.

“You’re drooling a bit, love,” he said with a smirk before taking one more sip from his water bottle.

You rolled your eyes. “It’s called salivating. It happens when you see something you’d like to eat,” you replied, slightly patronising, vaguely bratty.

He chuckled. It was dark and sensual. It reverberated faintly across the room, but it hit you in the stomach like a sniper’s shot, snapping the large balloon containing all your desire. You felt it explode, longing splattering all over your insides.

The light was suddenly too bright, the room was too hot, the strong scent of his skin was calling to you like an aphrodisiac. You knew he had been made to ruin you.

“I need to shower,” he mused, avoiding your eyes spearing him. He was playing coy and you hated him for it. You knew he was waiting for you to say you’d join him.

You were too petty to surrender yourself to him. “And?”

He cocked an eyebrow, following the sweet line of your legs as they appeared from under a shirt of his you were wearing. “I thought you might be interested.” You faked going back to your book but were alerted by the sound of a zipper.

He smiled as he noticed he had got your attention. You hated how much he’d learnt from you. And how much you’d become like him. It was like his naked skin was a magnet and you couldn’t help but be drawn in.

“Sure you’re not interested?” he quipped, tempting you like your personal devil.

You stared at the lack of muscle tee under the sweater. His sculpted chest peaked from the lapels of the garment, his abdomen, not sculpted but solid and strong nonetheless, made you lick your lips.

“Zip it up.” Your eyes were holding him on the spot. He didn’t ignore the fact that he had said the same thing about your dresses at least a hundred times. As he followed your order, he knew what would come next.

You gave him a once-over while laying on the sofa, setting your book aside.

Your wait was feline, predatorial. You were there, ambushing him in plain sight. He felt the adrenaline course through him.

You didn’t avoid studying the shape of his dick under his grey sweats, hardening, throbbing, shifting.

With a gesture of your finger, mocking his usual scene, you gestured for him to turn around.

He shook his head and smirked. “A fucking brat.”

“Which you love fucking,” you reminded him.

He snickered and turned.

Then, you stood. Your steps were light and slow, dilly-dallying around before you reached him. You placed your hands on his ass, causing him to smirk, as he twisted his head in your direction, dimple in display. “Last time I checked, you loved being fucked, too.”

You pinched his glute before swatting at it.

He hissed, but the sound quickly slipped into a mocking chuckle. “Is that all you can do? I’m sure you can do better than that, little fox. Do you need me to teach you?”

Nostrils flaring, you let go of him, ready to stomp out of the room.

He caught your wrist. “Come on, Vixen. Don’t be so grumpy about it.”

You let him persuade you, acting a bit reluctant as he laid his back against the wall and pulled you up against him, flush against his body. His lips were against your ear in a nanosecond. “We both know you prefer receiving, and there’s nothing wrong with that, little vixen.”

He placed your hands against his pectorals, making you feel them up. “You’re small and needy, I’m large and giving. Isn’t that perfect?”

He was pushing all your buttons.

You looked up at him, dreamy, baby eyes acting innocent and sad, eyebrows arched up as you unsheathed your most effective weapon.

“Not the pout, babygirl,” Namjoon huffed out, growing weak, lowering himself by spreading his legs and placing his feet far from the wall, pressing his back up against it.

You kept looking at him even as your fingers found his zipper, and pulled at it, down, slowly.

He smiled. “Can’t resist daddy?”

You shook your head and finally looked at your man’s chest, sliding your fingers underneath the lapels and pushing them off.

You kissed his sternum. “You were made to be my weakness.” You squeezed his waist with your hands, forcing your hands to move up against his corded chest.

“And you, mine, my love.” His hands went to your ass, grabbing it and pushing your hips against his.

Once your hand reached his upper torso, you kneaded his pectorals with your fingers, careful of not sinking your nails in.

They were so warm, firm, rounded, smooth…

He brought his lips to your neck, making you moan. “Come on, scratch them, little fox. You want it as much as I do.”

You closed your eyes, finally vanquished. Staring into his eyes, you prepared your digits against the upper curve of his muscles and sank your nails in just hard enough to draw red lines as you brought your hands down, leaving angry, possessive marks in your wake.

Namjoon hissed and smiled. “Just like that.”

“You make me into an animal.” You complained with a sneer.

He pushed his hips into you to try and sweeten your mood. In reply, you licked up the column of his throat, stealing his breath. The salt of his sweat was divine on your tongue.

“Did you work out shirtless?” you inquired.

He arched an eyebrow. “Will it make you jealous if I said I did?”

You felt your jaw lock in place as you grabbed his face and smashed your lips against his. He made you mad. All the time. He had fucked you up so sinfully.

“I hate you,” you gritted, your mouth still against him. From the way you were letting him touch you, he knew you didn’t.

“The girl from the twenty-seventh almost fell on the threadmill because I was bench-pressing,” he added.

“Shirtless?”

He shrugged. “Who knows.”

You had only one reaction — you forced him back to his full height, his pectoral aligned with your mouth. And you bit.

Namjoon flinched, then he felt his head fluctuate in pleasure.

Before he knew, you were laying on the floor, panties ripped, your legs over his shoulders, his sweater discarded somewhere, your lovebites sprinkled all over his chest and neck, his sweats and briefs lowered just enough for his dick to own you. Again. And again. And again.

[ilovemanicures]

“He won’t hold your interest for long.”

Alastair simply raised an eyebrow in response.

You think you know what you want, but you’re young. You’ll tire of him eventually”. Alastair had no desire to tell Charles that he already rebuffed Thomas, the same night Charles had unconsciously called him to stay. He’d find out eventually.

“Maybe so. But keep in mind Charles that I tired of you first.”

This. Was. Amazing.

Here is actually footage of me when I got the alert for this fic⬇️

Alastair ficlet

Stay.

Prompted by this post

Start of fic:

Don’t go. Alastair. Don’t leave. Words spoken in a haze, long forgotten.

“Stay.”

“I’d rather adjust to your absence than be continually frustrated by your presence, Charles”

Charles looked pained. It was not uncommon for Alastair to say mean, downright cruel, things to people, but not to him. No; Alastair was always so forgiving when it came to Charles- always spoke of and to him with an almost reverent tongue- though now it was getting harder to understand why he ever had.

“You say that you love me, that you want me back, and yet when you had me, you declared your intentions for woman after woman, with barely a thought spared towards me. I was yours, Charles, and you threw me away”. The words tasted like bile in his mouth. He had shoved them down so many times before, but every time they rose to the surface, it felt like they were burning his heart on the way out.

“Alastair…” the word was a strained gasp. The wounds he’d sustained all those weeks ago had nothing to do with it. “Alastair. I do love you.”

“It does not matter anymore, whether you love me or no. I do not love you back”. The words were harsh. It almost hurt to speak them, but all he had to do to take the sting away was recall what Charles had put him through.

“Is it because of Thomas?” Charles all but sneered. Alastair had to force himself to keep his temper in check, knuckles turning white with how hard his fists were curled at his sides.

“It is because of you. Because of what you did. Thomas has nothing to do with it.”

“Doesn’t he? You think I don’t see you making lovesick eyes at him from across the room? You think I don’t notice you looking at him the way you used to look at me?”

Charles had no right to talk about these things. Charles had no right to talk about how he looked at Thomas or of how he felt about him. And Charles had absolutely no right to compare what they had had, with what he felt about Thomas.

“Did you like that, Charles? That I looked at you like I hungered for you, while all the while, it was you who had starved me?”

“Don’t be dramatic, Alastair”, he said with a scoff. Alastair must have been truly lonely, if he’d settled for a man like this.

He couldn’t take it anymore. This conversation was pointless, and he had no reason to stay. Charles had been the one to corner him during patrol, and Alastair had no desire to oblige him by being cornered anymore. He turned to leave.

“He won’t hold your interest for long.”

Alastair simply raised an eyebrow in response.

“You think you know what you want, but you’re young. You’ll tire of him eventually”. Alastair had no desire to tell Charles that he had already rebuffed Thomas, the same night Charles had unconsciously called for him to stay. He’d find out eventually.

“Maybe so. But keep in mind Charles that I tired of you first”.

[forcebook]

And at last we head into the finale with Triage ep 12-13:

Tol: If I fail this loop Tin’s gonna end up dating DEAR and not ME, this is the WORST

Jinta: Or he could still, you know, die

And we’ve come full circle with having Fang help with a matchmaking lunch, this time with Tol getting a surprisingly big brain play to directly ask her for help hitting on Tin. (With I think only one previous interaction in the bank with her. In a previous loop)

Oh don’t bother growing a spine now, Evil Gopher. It’s not like I’m gonna believe you’re suddenly not down for all the murder in your side gig.

HA, Tol is so happy about how getting the parents involved turned out. Tin’s all stunned over getting strong-armed into a study session sleepover while Tol is giddily in the corner like “That’s right, your ass just got entrapped, babe!” (also I couldn’t find anything when I looked it up, but Tol’s dad is definitely the dad from Ghost Host Ghost House right?)

You know the kisses very well might be bringing the memories back, but I find it so much funnier to think that that theory was Tin just making some romantic jot notes like he was scribbling in his diary and then Tol latched onto it with both hands all “So True Love’s Kiss will break the spell? I’M ON IT.”

Awww, Singgap get their own pinky promise moment.

Regressed!Tin’s been so angsty that Professor and Gopher are actually seeing him as a potential recruit for the side of evil.

Can Varit just catch a break? I know everybody’s going through it in this show but the boy was finally in a loop where he’s getting recognition and he wants to live and the plot still won’t leave him alone.

-

Oh come on it’s even worse for Varit! Poison?!

I love how all of Tol’s plans are, to put it mildly, not the most well thought out, but damn if he doesn’t throw his all into them.

Evil Professor watching Tin get thanked by the patient’s mother: ah dang it he’s getting his conscience and compassion back. This totally ruins my organ stealing job offer

Tol’s main thought process has essentially been “Can we kiss now? Or now? How’s about now? Is now good?” And when he finally has a chance of it actually working he gets INTERRUPTED CURSE YOU EVIL PROFESSOR

Everybody in this hostage situation is taking a moment to remark on how stupid Evil Gopher’s plan is.

Oh I could watch Gap conk Evil Gopher in the face with that pole 100 times.

Tin has gotta stop saying “We’re in this together and I’m not going anywhere.” He knows the universe has a twisted sense of humor and he’s basically DARING it to jinx him.

I just love Jinta so goddamn much.

Evil Professor’s dead, Evil Gopher’s snapped and locked up, Varit’s thriving, Singgap are flirting in front of patients (amusing Doi and annoying Pin), Mai’s mom woke up! Happy endings all around!

This show really set up a coy “Oh no, we’re totally gonna have a bittersweet open ending where it’s uncertain whether they’re gonna meet again~” but nope! Hella Big Damn Kiss at the magic love clock tower! Same energy as Tin rocking up all “Oh I don’t think I really remember... but maybe some of that True Love’s Kiss action will help?~” I mean I had the biggest dopiest smile on my face so I can’t complain 😁

And a little bone throw for the Manner of Death crowd, nice.

Whew! Holy cow MJ, this was a show and half of an amazing time. This is undoubtedly up there in the top tier of top tiers. I hope the holidays treat you well to match this gift you brought me 💜

yay!!!! YOU’VE MADE IT!!! merry christmas!!! ❤️💙

TOL HAS PRIORITIES LIKE HIS UNDYING JEALOUSY AKJDSKJDKSKDKSDKSK

tol @ fang “i know we don’t talk but you GOTTA help me date your friend. please it’s a matter of life and death”

lmaooo right!! after so much shit!!!

tol’s loop is SOOOO funny akdjkskd like. at the beginning of the show he’s so cool and detached but by the end of the show he’s fake drowning to get a doctor to kiss him. so unserious

and yes!! i think it’s the same dad!!

tol was like “so is anyone going to kiss this man to break the goddamn time loop cycle???” and did not wait for an answer

singgap my beloveds!!!!!! 🥰🥰🥰

REGRESSED TIN IS A MENACE AKDKSKKDKSKSDK

LET VARIT CATCH A BREAK CHALLENGE!!!!

right 😩😩😩 wtffff

TOL IS A MESS AND A HALF BUT HE HAS THE SPIRIT

CACKLING. noooo tin! don’t get your feelings back, you’re so sexy ha ha

tol just wants to kiss that man, why’s it so hard 😩😩😩

it is stupid lmaoo GAP IS A BADASS IN DISGUISE OKAY

true that tho. every time tin promises not to leave tol, the universe is like BITCH! YOU THOUGHT! and separates them

jinta, the protector of the dumbass queers. gotta love him

happy ending very well deserved!!!! 🥳🥳🥳🥳 tho they gotta drag tintol’s happiness like PLEASE HAVE WE NOT SUFFERED ENOUGH

but aaaaaaaa YES!!! the clock tower kiss is legendary. we gotta love how they wrapped it up so nicely! NO BITTERSWEET ENDING IN THIS HOUSE NO SIR!

mod always!!!

AAAAAAAAAAA I’M SO GLAD YOU LOVED IT TOO!!! i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again: triage is top 10 bls of all time. it’s just sooooo good!!!!!

thank you for watching it!!! (she says like she made the show akskaksksk) we’re here to share good things!!!

happy holidays beloved!!! may 2023 be a wonderful year for you!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️💙💙💙💙💙💙