#the older content for this i just find so fascinating

[butchtwelfthdoctor]

hello i am looking for old posts please

i am very new to this fandom and also fandom in general - i first watched good omens after s2 was already out (although it is now consuming my brain entirely), i'm really interested to see some analysis of season one and of the book. but its pretty hard to find these posts under the flood of s2 meta (which i love of course don't get me wrong) so i was wondering maybe if anyone on here has some old posts of analysis (or just whatever content, gifsets, short fics etc) from a few years ago they could link them? or if there was a tag that has only been used for s1?

anything would much appreciated even if it's your own old posts i just want to read everyone thoughts on s1 (& the book)

thank you wonderful fandom people <3

[ozzgin]

More of the yandere monster???? Like their married life, him being such a cutie cutie and the reader is a willing person to his yandere tendencies. Like him physically fighting someone for flirting with her for .01 second and her just being 😍🥰

Alright anon, seeing as this has once again resurfaced, I'll cover a little bit of marital life as per your suggestion. (I'm hoping you're referring to the older sibling monster)

Yandere! Monster Husband x Reader

A little change of plans and the wedding you've been kidnapped for continued without a hitch, except you married the monstrous sibling instead. Made for an awkward celebratory dinner, but no one dared to oppose the Beast.

Content: female reader, monster romance, mildly NSFW, saga of the monster hoe reader continues

[First part]

The next family dinner was quiet. You couldn't help but wonder if your horniness had gone too far, slowly chewing your food and occasionally peeking at the ex-groom with remorseful eyes. Poor guy, you thought. "Well, it's quite convenient, isn't it?" he finally said, breaking the silence. The cutlery sounds paused, and you lifted your gaze again. The man flashed you a radiant smile, which emphasized his handsome features even more. "I mean, we weren't sure we'd ever find a wife for my brother. He has a bit of an attitude, and even monsters are afraid of him. The only marriage attempt-" his speech was interrupted by a grunt, and you turned towards your monstrous boyfriend. The older sibling was frowning, visibly embarrassed. "Oh, I remember!" the mother of the siblings, a halfling herself, suddenly chuckled into her glass, taking a generous sip before continuing: "We'd arranged for a fellow monster to meet him, and the poor soul got so frightened she blended in with the background! Took us two days to find her! She came from a chameleon family, I recall."

Everyone at the table began to laugh and you joined, although with a mild annoyance tinged into your voice. So what, there was no reason for you to be plagued by guilt? You even refused a night escapade with your boyfriend until things "settled", as a way to be respectful towards the cucked party. All for naught. At least now you could be ravaged without further consequences. When the mother in law had pulled you aside hours earlier to make sure you weren't coerced into this arrangement, you had to hold back from crassly confessing you'd slurp her son empty of fluids at any hour of the day. Some things are better left untold.

Unfortunately, one detail couldn't be changed in time: the guest list. As this had been an event meant to strengthen the ties between humans, no one outside of the immediate family graced the venue with their monstrous presence. Many guests were intrigued by the outcome of the affair, terribly curious to see the famed wife-to-be of the gruesome, feared Head of the royal army. Even more so once they discovered it was a regular human by all means. "Fascinating!", the old ladies would occasionally cry out, clutching the plump, expensive pearls adorning their necks. You had to frequently excuse yourself in order to dodge the rather indecent questions regarding your relationship. Except when you did manage to sneak away, one of the younger men of names and titles you never registered would approach you for a dance. "Truly a pitiful matter", they'd whisper much too close to your ear. "You would've made a lovely bride for a fellow human."

"You're unexpectedly calm about this", the prince mentioned to his older brother at some point during the wedding night. "Are you not bothered by all the acquaintances flocking to your bride?" The monster shook his head with a sigh. He hadn't known you for that long yet, but one thing he was certain of: it's not humans he needed to fear.

Indeed, having a wife with a monster kink is particularly challenging when most of the husband's work involves similar creatures. The first months after the marriage were stalked by the insidious doubt that his luck was just that: mere coincidence. Would you have displayed the same interest had he not been the only beast at the table? Would you still pick him in a room full of monsters? Such questions followed him each day, feeding into an ever-growing jealousy.

"What are you doing here!", he exclaimed in despair once he noticed your arrival at his training camp. "You forgot your lunch", you explained, eyebrows raised in confusion. Oh, for fuck's sake. He quickly pulled you away, glaring at the subordinates startled by the commotion. They must've been eyeing (Y/N) like rabid dogs, he thought. Next thing you know, you'll be scooped away by some horned scoundrel. He can't have that.

Initially, the rage-filled, obsession-driven fuck you'd receive almost daily was welcomed with shameless begging. The way your monster husband would pin you down under his claws and thrust into you so hard, you could see its movement in waves across your stomach. The way he'd forcefully spread your legs, hungrily sinking his nails into the soft flesh of your thighs and gnawing your shoulders in delirious need. The tears that sheepishly formed in the corners of your hooded eyes would only incite him more. "Bite onto my hand if you can't take it anymore", he'd coo without stopping. As much as you liked to be left a limp, drooling mess, the soreness grew unbearable. Enough was enough when you found yourself carrying a cushion to sit down on any surface.

"Listen, we need to have a talk." You greeted him solemnly once he returned from his military duties. Oh, no. Absolutely not. The monstrous husband bit his lips in panic, immediately going through a mental list of all his subordinates. Or was it someone in the family that slithered their way into your heart? Is that what it was about, that you'd found a different creature? No matter, you weren't going anywhere. "I don't want to hear about it", he declared dramatically. "I have a bruised cervix!" you shouted in disbelief. "Huh?" He stared at you. "It hurts even when I lay down, man. You have to tone it down. At least for a little while."

Ah. Awkward. You noticed his flinch, and patted the empty seat next to you. "What did you think I was going to say?" The bench groaned under the weight of his gargantuan body. Hands folded in his lap like a punished schoolboy, your husband began to narrate the tale of his seething envy and frenzied passion for you. You must understand, he's never cared for anyone as much. To hell with duty and honor, he would kill his own father if his touch on you lingered one second longer than permitted. "Alright, but you must control yourself a little", you reminded him gently. "Never, my urge to obliterate any threat in my path is insatiable", he concluded with vehemence. "Yes, yes, that I understand. The sex, I mean", you gesticulated. "Of course. My apologies, I got sidetracked."

Somehow, he didn't expect to leave this conversation with a cathartic approval of his possessiveness. "Surely you must be upset by my fanatical behavior", he suggested meekly. "Oh no, it's part of your charm", you reassured him with a smile. "It's just not that sustainable in bed without the occasional break." You pat your stomach to express your misfortune.

Sadly, your monster fucking dreams must adhere to the laws of biology.

[puckleberryfinnie]

What Is This Feeling?

summary: you're the one thing he can't have, but he'll do anything to get you anyway, fem!reader x emperor geta

notes: for (this) request, thank you so much for sending that in again, love you for that! this definitely will not be history or character accurate, but I know most of you are just here for the vibes so here's this for you <3 if anyone wants more of him, you're more than welcome to send something in, make sure to take a look at my holiday event too!

part two is finally here! yippee!

Geta had everything he could ever want- food, clothing, women. Many women. All the divine things of the world were his, and it pleased him to know as such. All of Rome was at his beck and call.

Now, despite his interest in expanding empires to new locations, he'd never found himself interested in the contents of these areas. It seemed illogical, when he had everything he wanted and much, much more already.

As the power of Rome grew, however, the time came for a delegation to be put into place. It would be built in order to generate alliances among other strong empires, much like their own. It wasn't something of much interest of Geta- he'd have to give them an audience at some point, he'd imagined, but any might greater than his own was simply unimaginable in his mind.

It wasn't surprising for the people of your empire to know you'd be headed off along with the rest of the delegation sent to Rome. They knew your adventurous nature, and with your three older brothers limiting your chance of leading one day, there was no true reason for you not to be sent off, if not just for the year you'd be gone. Your father, as emperor, was weary, of course.

"Venturing into harsher lands might calm your restless nature, which is something that must happen as you become an important figure to your people, dear. Besides, you'll be protected under the royal court of Rome in any regard, to be sure."

The trip had been troublesome, despite the amenities offered for a trip of so many noble people. It was truly its length that made it quite so unbearable, being over a week of slow travelling. Upon entering into your destination, however, your opinions on the matter immediately had been washed away by incoming fascination. Your empire had been fantastic in its own ways, of course, but this went beyond every notion of an idea you'd had for it. The streets were filled with excitement, and the people of the streets were beyond respectful, bowing their heads as you passed them.

Your fascination only grew as you came closer to the center of the land. There were buildings, each taller than the last and adorned with the most extraordinary pieces of decoration. Large, open areas housed groups of patricians, you were sure, wearing extravagant clothing that draped over their bodies perfectly. Their jewelry was even more extravagant, to be sure, shiny accessories adorning every finger and neck.

It's not that you weren't used to such lavishness, but your people had been less... open about it, in many regards. It was unlikely to find open rooms with expensive items on display as they had here. It's no matter, though. You'd fit in, to be sure. Your empire had sent you in their finest garments, matching these people's clothing perfectly fine.

The audience with this neighboring empire had been something of great discussion among the court of Rome. With the newest news coming in of the emperor's daughter visiting, the excitement only grew. There were stories, of course, of her people favoring her, for her beauty and kindness was a blessing for them. It intrigued Geta, in some regards. He'd expected old men and boring meetings discussing topics that he was not the least bit interested in. But a woman? He was indefinitely more interested in that.

Him and his brother were leaning lazily against their large thrones, women and men strew across them, vying for their attention. As your party entered, they both stayed in their position, watching disinterestedly, nodding as the people continued to enter.

It was customary that you entered last, in all your glory. You entered gracefully, all heads turned towards you, all in awe of your divine nature. Geta wasn't any exception as he immediately sat up straighter, trying to get a better look at you. As you stopped in front of them, dipping your head in respect, he continued to lean closer, eyes wide as they went over your features carefully.

"Thank you for your gracious invitation, emperors."

As your eyes rose to greet the twins, they immediately met Geta's. His own pair were watching your every movement, a interested glint in them unlike ever you'd ever seen in the eyes of a man. It caught you, making you freeze under his gaze. He slowly pushed off whoever had been on him, getting up as he slowly made his way towards you.

"The pleasure is all our own. I hope you know we've been anxiously awaiting you, my lady."

His eyebrows rose, anticipating your reaction. When you simply smiled, bowing your head once again in recognition before being carted away by your supervisors, he was beyond surprised. Any normal woman would've been flattered and flushing at his words, but you'd walked away with that calming nature still radiating.

His brother wasn't paying much attention, but that wasn't too much of surprise as Geta turned towards him, watching Caracalla place some grapes in his mouth as he looked off to the side. He turned back to your retreating form once more, shouting at you in order to get your attention.

"I hope you enjoy your stay, my lady. I'll be sure to call on you later."

You simply smiled once again, letting out a small laugh. "I'd appreciate that, Emperor. Thank you." You along with the rest of your party exited after a moment, exhausted after your long trip and in need of rest.

After you were long gone, likely softly sleeping in one of their more extravagant guest rooms, as Geta had imagined, he was approached by one of his many advisors, named Claudius. Claudius was one of the more brave council members, who would speak out against the emperors for the benefit of Rome. It was a surprise that his head hadn't been chopped off yet.

"I only want the best for your empire, Your Grace, and with such I must make it known that interacting with the daughter of such a powerful ruler has its risks. If word got out to the Emperor that you were treating her as you would with a common woman, it surely would bring their strong empire's wrath down unto our sacred land."

"You must have no faith in the glory of Rome, Claudius. Any attack on their part would be stopped immediately, you should know this."

"Since we've last spoken their forces have doubled in size, Your Grace. Do what you will, but we need to make sure this alliance goes as it's supposed to."

He was effectively being told 'no,' and he did not enjoy it at all. Everything in his life had been handed to him on a silver platter, so it went against his nature to not take what he wanted- in this case, that being you. His hands were clenched as he walked through the hallways, headed to his sleeping chambers.

You'd been headed back from your light sleep, hoping to find some sort of entertainment when a body had rammed at you at full speed, knocking you to the ground. There was the emperor, looking angrily at the figure underneath him. This angry look slowly faded as he realized it was you, turning into a devilish smile as he slowly pulled himself up, his hands resting on either side of your head.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, my lady. How have you found your stay so far?" He was vibrating with a sort of enticing energy, almost as though he was purring. It was rather strange, but you couldn't bring yourself to move, frozen once again in his gaze.

"Oh- well, this place is magnificent, Your Grace. It's truly wonderful to be here."

"Mm.. well I'm very glad you decided to come, you've made all this alliance work much more... interesting." He finally pulled himself off you, keeping his eyes glued to yours as he reached for your hand to pull you up with him in a sudden movement. "And you must call me Geta, princess." His hand held onto yours, subtly moving a thumb across its surface.

"Of course Y- Geta. And you shall call me by mine, yes?" Your calm nature had been broken, just as he'd hoped it would. His smile only grew at your flustered state.

"If that's what you'd like I'll faithfully oblige, though I do think Princess suits you much better. I'd do anything you asked of me, though, darling." With that he brought your hand to his face, keeping eye contact as he left a kiss on its back side.

To Hell with Rome. He got what he wanted, and he wanted you.

woah ok so I think this is the most I've every written, hopefully it was still a bit interesting for you guys! thank you so much for reading, and let me know if you want more stuff from him or anyone else in Gladiator (the obsession is crazy right noww) (also, wicked themed title to feed into another obsession don’t mind me)

if you guys want any more of this one, please let me know, I can even create a tag list if that interests anyone <3

love ya!!

[jinxthequeergirl]

The ol Switcharoo (pt1.)

Stan x reader/ Ford x reader

Summary: you liked to assume you knew Stanford Pines better then most, but when you return to him after am extended trip you aren't sure you really do

Warning: NONE, she's looking as all hell and I apologize, it's mess I know but it's a start ok

Chat feel free to tell me is this is a dumb idea

~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~

You where a weird kid growing up.

A fact you wouldn't deny. Even as a child you knew you where diffrent and what intrested you was odd. You embraced it. You loved all things creepy and crawly. While most kids your age had posters of there favorite superheros or cartoon characters while your room was plastered with that of monsters and ghouls.

Things from Dracula all the way to the Mysterious Mothman decorated your room, they were the movies you had on repeat books you stuffed your nose in. You loved it all. As you got older, you loved them more, thrusting yourself into science to prove they could existed in the natural world that they DID!

The supernatural world was out there and you where going to explore it. Even as a kid you would be caught monster hunting always running headfirst into adventure no fears.

Your mother was supportive of your every decision regardless of if she believed it lead anywhere or not. She was more happy you where just passionate about something at all and was eager to send you to college.

That's what led you straight to Stanford Pines. The man you would proudly proclaim as your best friend. You'd met during one of your shared classes in college, quickly finding out you had almost similar interests and ideals, everything he had to say fascinated you. And he was more then happy to have someone so eager to find the supernatural with him.

Soon enough you where inseparable. (Y/n) and Standford there was no stopping the pair of you two through all of college whatever you two went through you went through together ups and downs everything was shared. Adding fiddleford to the mix and your trio was complete.

You where of course the first person he had asked to move into his house in gravity falls to further your research together.

"This place is incredible Fordsie I mean think of how much is actually out there!" You exclaimed gesturing to the untamed woods of Oregon from the roof of the house. Ford chuckled adding the finishing touches to a page in his second edition journal before offering it too you for your stamp of approval.

You gladly accepted the book. "And just think about everything else there is to come once we get the machine up and running!" You took a pen of your own and scribbled something in, nodding in agreement to his statment before sitting down beside him.

You took in a breath of fresh air and exhaled a sigh of relief. Ford copying your action. "To think I almost would have never made it this far." He said staring up at the darkening sky.

"Well let's not think like that fordsie, everything that almost stopped you from coming here got you here didn't it?" You said as if you where asking the stars that began to speckle the sky.

He looked over at you. "Everything happens for a reason sixer. Plus you got me out of it didn't you?" You joked nudging him with your elbow.

"That It did." He mused while watching you stare up at the sky with content. He gave a soft smile. Of all the great mysteries in the world, you became his favorite. It didn't matter how well he though he knew you you still surprised him every day.

That was in the spring.

Everything about your life with Ford felt new, exciting, and perfect. You felt like your bond was stronger then ever, over the summer and fall. The perfect balance of cool and calculates and a fearless risktaker. You filled in for eachother where the other lacked completing eachother perfectly. Making your adventures flow smoothly.

Ford found himself thinking like this about you more often, stealing long looks at you when he thought you weren't looking. Standing closer to you, the trash in his room became filled with crumpled ink work of your likeness.

You had enjoyed the sudden burst of closeness you two had shared over the months you'd been in Oregon together it certainly didn't go as unnoticed as he had hopped it did.

He was a smart man, that was the one fundamental truth about himself no one could deny. But he was utterly clueless when it came to his own feelings

"Oooohwe you got it baaAAD don't you Stanford?" His face flushed at fiddlefords sudden outburst of excitement. "What are you talking about!?" He asked in a sharp hushed tone quickly averting his gaze from you only a few feet away.

"Standford I have known you almost ad long as you and y/n have been friends and I'm no expert but I do think I recognize how you look at them has changed."

"I pfft.. I wouldn't...that's my bestfriend-" He fumbled for his words face flushed a deeper red then before as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Mcgucket! Fordsie! I'm head up to bed for the night! Don't stay up too late." You chimmed in with a yawn.

"Hahah! Yes very good y/n! Very good get good rest for not let the gnomes bite! Ahaha" Ford blurted. You laughed as you continued up the steps.

Fiddleford laughed once where had va ished from sight. "I'm just making an observation...I'm not saying you lay awake at night thinking about her. But your secretis safe with me." Ford let out a sigh of relief at fiddlefors reasuring words they wherent up much longer before both retiring to their rooms. Stanford proceeded to lay in bed that night staring up at his ceiling.

"Oh no."

When the winter rolled around things began to change. All the good memories you had together seemed to suddenly get lost and where instead replaced with something bad.

You remember sitting next to fiddleford staring at your bestfriend fall asleep in the middle of the floor waiting for something to happen. "Do you think this is a good idea?"

You where the first tobask the question both of you had been thinking. "If this thing can offer Ford everything we need to know about starting up this portal...then I say the risk is worth it...right?"

You chewed on your inner cheek staring intently at the man on the floor.

Since the winter rolled around and Ford had met this mysterious "muse" You felt a sense of unease fall over the house, Ford had suddenly become distant always away with the being. "Are you jealous?" Fiddleford pipped up turning away from Ford.

"Jelous?" You chucked. "Of what? There's nothing to be jealous of! Or even a reason to be jealous! If Ford wants to abandon his friends for some interdemensinal being that he wont share much about or even introduce us then fine by me!" You huff out the words folding your arms over your chest.

Everything went downhill pretty fast or at least that's what your memory served, by the time you where ready for the first test of the portal all the way to fiddlefords accident with the machine your new exciting life unraveled before your eyes.

He wasn't functioning the way he used

"Fordsie...I think we need to take a break."

He was pacing infront of you rappedly tapping a pen against his temple. "We can't stop now! We are to close."

You frowned, he was different now no doubt this wasn't the same Ford you had be friened only a few years ago, this wasn't the same Ford you had grown to love. He was far more distant now, all the little things he thought went unnoticed by you completely stopped. He kept his distance now. He was losing sleep because of this now, if it wherent for you he wouldn't even be eating.

"Ford I'm serious! Fiddleford got hurt...I don't think it's a good idea to continue we need time to stop and clear our heads!"

"My head is clear y/n! With bill by my side I know we can-"

"STANFORD PINES."

Stan stopped in his tracks. It had been a while since you had referred to him like that. He turned to you watching you pinch the bridge of your nose. Since when did you look so tired? And where you...angry with him?

"Stanford our friend was hurt because of this , it's time to take a step back and to reevaluate before someone else gets hurt...we need to get out of this house...maybe out of gravity falls for a while."

Ford stared at you for a while and you stared back for some reason in only a few months it felt like the both of you where looking at strangers. You watched as the gears turned in Fords head before he spoke up.

"Your right."

You perked up at his words taken aback by them.

"I think it would be in our best intrest if we both went to see our families for some time."

Again you where surprised by the words that left his mouth. He'd never spoken to you about his family you had always assumed they wherent close. At the same time part of you hoped he'd want to vacation with you somewhere warm away from the snow. So place that would bring back the real Ford.

"OK, we can do that." You said offering a warm smile.

That night Ford helped you pack so you could catch the first bus out of gravity falls that morning, he promised he'd be leaving the next day.

It was quiet while he helped. He wasn't joking with you or excitedly retelling one of your adventures from the summer.

Your mind still kept wondering back to how this could be the same person. Maybe this was who Ford was all along and you where blinded by the thrill of adventure.

"Promise to write?" You asked

"I promise."

"I'll see you in a few weeks."

Still you knew things would be better when you both returned from a long over do break. You watched a bundled up Ford wave you goodbye from the snow as your bus pulled away and you sighed.

Ford frowned as he watched your bus drive into the distance. This was for the better right? He could see the worry and pain he had seemed to be causing you which was never his intention. He didn't want to lie to you just to get you away to take care of yourself but if that's what it took to do just that.

You eneded up returning when the snow had melted in gravity falls. You hadn't meant to be gone that long, your family had begged you to stay and your mother needed the help around the house, you had wrote Ford like you promised but it seemed like the mail was eating up your letters. Either way you had been well rested and eager to return to your friend and to work. You took a hopeful deep breath once your feet hit the gravity falls soil.

"StanFord!? Are you home yet!?" You shouted, pushing open the door to the house. You were met with silence.

"Fordsie!?" You stepped further in carefully. You noticed all of the science equipment and creatures you had collected over the past year or so had been moved and almost put on display. You heard a floorboard creek, and you stayed silent, pressing up again the wall by the door, ready to either surprise your friend or scare an enime.

The door swung open and a familiar face appeared yelling welding a baseball bat.

You screamed, falling back onto yours, butt. "FORD WAIT! WAIT, IT'S ME ITS Y/N!!!" You shouted, holding your hands up to shield yourself. He stopped yelling and lowered the bat. "Y/n?...."

"Yes, it's me. Please put the bat down!"

"What are you doing here?" He asked, placing the bat down and staring at you. "I live here with you, remember?"

The man seemed to stare at you like he was trying to figure out why he knew you. "Y/n! That's right!" He helped you up.

"I wasn't away for that long, was I fordsie?" You chuckled.

"Oh uh no no it's not that...uh come inside. we have some uh catching up to do.." You raised your eyebrow at him now, getting a better look at him. Something was off.

But you followed him to the kitchen, hoping your doubt and worry would wear off soon.

"Hey by the way...would you mind calling me stan from now on?"

[simplygojo]

Your Brother's Best Friend ⸺ Gojo

author's note ⸺ Hi all! I apologize for being offline for the holidday season, wanted to spend lots of time iwth my fam and give myself a big mental break from the online world haha..so I hope you guys enjoy this draft I have, someone requested this like bak on october but I can't find the request so if it was you LMK <3 pairing ⸺ Satoru Gojo x reader concept ⸺ You are Nanami's younger sister, because of that, the insufferably annoying and constantly present-Satoru Gojo-has always been a constant in your life. content ⸺ just some coming of age fluff, childhood crush, soulmates fr, don't forget gojo is insufferable, ur a bit insufferable too but ily, lmk if anyone wants a prt2, mt fuji reference bc I'm planning a Japan trip rn, reader uses female pronouns

materlist || request guidelines || commissions

Satoru Gojo had always found himself intrigued by you. Being Nanami’s younger sister—only by a year, but a fact Gojo never let go—meant you were often around during their shared days at Jujutsu High. 

It had been impossible not to notice you, with your sharp wit and the way you matched Nanami’s sternness with a warmth and energy he seemed to lack.

Back then, Gojo’s fascination with you manifested in childish antics: hiding your books just to watch you search for them in exasperation, ruffling your hair as he towered over you with a cocky grin, and smirking when you called him an idiot. 

He relished every moment he could pull your attention from your studies or your brother, craving the fiery glint in your eyes when you were annoyed with him. 

Unlike the rest of the people in Gojo’s life, you weren’t part of Jujutsu society.

You couldn’t see curses, didn’t wield cursed energy, and, for the most part, seemed blissfully unaware of the world that surrounded your brother and his friends as you pursued your studies. 

Nanami had always insisted on keeping you far from it, which was just another thing Gojo couldn’t help but admire. 

You were grounded in a way the rest of them weren’t, so wonderfully normal amidst their chaos.

And you had this way of looking at him—not like the strongest sorcerer, not like the next great hope of Jujutsu society—but just like a guy who annoyed the hell out of you.

At first, it felt harmless. You were Nanami’s younger sister. Off-limits. Untouchable. The unspoken one Nanami had pulled from the very beginning. 

“Don’t even think about it, Gojo,” he’d once joked, though the steel in his voice had been unmistakable. That line, so clearly drawn by your older brother, was one Gojo thought he could respect.

However…Gojo wasn’t exactly known for adhering to rules, and over time, what started as a playful crush transformed into something far more real.

—

Gojo had really noticed the shift in how he saw you one lazy afternoon when you were both a little older, himself a second-year and Nanami now in first year. 

You’d stopped by Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu High to drop off lunch for Nanami, a routine occurrence Gojo had witnessed more times than he could count.

And yet, for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, that day felt… different.

He spotted you from across the courtyard, standing near the steps with a neatly folded paper bag in hand. The sun hit you just right, its golden rays catching in your hair and making it shimmer. 

Gojo found himself frozen mid-step, watching as you leaned toward Nanami, laughing at something he’d said.

He felt his chest tighten, his usual cocky grin faltering as something entirely unfamiliar bubbled up inside him.

He’d seen you countless times before—bickering with Nanami, reading quietly under a tree, rolling your eyes when he teased you. But this was the first time he’d truly seen you, and it shook him more than he cared to admit.

Gojo brushed it off with his usual bravado. It’s nothing, he told himself. Just a fluke. A trick of the light. I’m Satoru freakin’ Gojo. I don’t get fazed by stuff like..like girls.

But the image of you standing there, radiant and laughing, stuck with him.

Later that day, Nanami caught him staring off into space, absently twirling a pen between his fingers.

“You’ve got that dumb look on your face again,” Nanami deadpanned, his voice cutting through the comfortable silence of the common room.

Gojo blinked, jolting out of his thoughts. “Huh? Dumb? I don’t do dumb looks,” he shot back, feigning nonchalance as he leaned back in his chair.

Nanami raised a brow, unimpressed. “Right…” He said, but didn’t press forward.

Gojo leaned back further in his chair, staring at the ceiling like it held the answers to his dilemma. 

He’d never tell Nanami the truth—that he’d been so distracted by you. 

Because even though he’d brushed it off earlier, Satoru Gojo knew better. That moment in the courtyard wasn’t nothing. It was the beginning of a realization he wasn’t sure he was ready to face.

—

By the time you and Gojo were in your late teens you had both become insufferable in your own ways. 

You–who was constantly studying and reading and cramming your head full of anything instead of living your life. And Gojo–whose ego was the size of Mt. Fuji and spoke 100 kilometres an hour. 

This specific night, Nanami had reluctantly invited Gojo over for dinner at your family’s house after the persistent pestering of his taller, louder classmate. 

Gojo, being Gojo, had made himself right at home, lounging on your family’s couch as if he owned the place. Your parents were out for the evening, and Nanami had resigned himself to the kitchen, grumbling about Gojo’s ability to eat an ungodly amount of food.

Dinner wasn’t ready yet, which left you and Gojo alone in the dining room as Nanami busied himself in the kitchen, muttering under his breath about Gojo’s bottomless appetite.

You’d been sitting at the dining table, flipping through a thick textbook, completely ignoring Gojo’s antics. Or at least, you had been, until Gojo sauntered over, leaned against the back of your chair, tipping it slightly, forcing you to glance up.

“You’re gonna get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that,” he teased, his signature smirk firmly in place.

“Do you ever not talk?” You replied, exasperation lacing your tone as you tilted your head to glare up at him.

“Rarely,” he shot back, before letting the chair fall back into place and taking a seat beside you at the table. “You’re really gonna spend the whole evening buried in those books?” He drawled, his voice a mix of amusement and boredom.

You didn’t bother looking up. “Not everyone has the luxury of being naturally insufferable and talented like you, Gojo.”

“Aw, you think I’m talented?” His grin was audible in his voice.

You finally lifted your gaze, levelling him with the flattest look you could muster. “Not what I said.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his chin propped up on one hand. The orange sunlight streaming through the window caught in his hair, making it gleam like spun silver. “Come on, y/n, live a little. You’re always so serious.”

“Not everyone can afford to ‘live a little,’” you muttered, your tone softer than before.

Gojo’s grin faltered, just for a heartbeat, before returning with renewed mischief. “Then it’s my civic duty to help you loosen up.”

Before you could stop him, he reached across the table and flicked the corner of your notebook. It slid a few inches down the table out of your reach, the pages fluttering slightly.

“Gojo,” you snapped, sitting up straighter.

“What?” His innocent tone was as fake as the wide-eyed look he gave you. “I’m just trying to help.”

You leaned over to grab the notebook, but Gojo was quicker. He snatched it up and held it above his head, just out of reach.

“Satoru,” you hissed, standing now, your chair scraping loudly against the floor.

He smirked, leaning back in his chair as he dangled the notebook higher. “What’s the magic word?”

“I’m not playing this game with you.”

You stepped closer, your hand reaching for the notebook, but Gojo shifted at the last second. In one smooth motion, he stood, towering over you with that infuriating smirk still plastered across his face.

“Wow, so short,” he teased, looking down at you with mock pity.

“I hate you,” you said, glaring up at him.

“Liar,” he shot back, his grin widening.

The room felt smaller now, the air warmer. You tried not to notice how close he was, how his presence seemed to fill every corner of the space.

“Just give it back,” you said, your voice quieter this time.

Gojo tilted his head, considering your request, but made no move to comply. 

Instead, he bent down slightly, just enough that your faces were almost level. His free hand braced against the edge of the table beside you, caging you in without even touching you.

“You really want it?” He asked, his tone low, teasing.

The words made your pulse quicken, though you’d never admit it. You reached for the notebook again, but he didn’t budge, his grin softening into something more unreadable.

And then you noticed it—his breath, warm and feather-light against your cheek. You were close enough to feel his breath.

The realization hit you all at once. Your skin burned where his breath lingered, and the heat crawled upward, spreading across your face and down your neck.

“Gojo,” you said, but it came out quieter than you intended, almost a whisper.

“What?” He murmured, his voice matching your softness now.

You didn’t answer, your mind too preoccupied with the way his gaze lingered on you, no longer playful but intense, searching.

His grin returned, but it was softer this time, almost shy. “You’re blushing, y/n,” he said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper.

Your hands curled into fists at your sides, your gaze darting away as if the floor could save you from the warmth blooming across your face. 

“No, I’m not,” you mumbled, despite the obvious pink hue radiating from your cheeks.

Gojo chuckled, a low, quiet sound that only made your blush deepen. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

You felt your heart do a little flip and you spun around, turning your back to him and crossing your arms over your chest.

“No I’m not–You–” You said shortly, trying to make yourself seem more annoyed than flustered.

“What?” He drawled, his tone all lazy amusement. 

“I’m just making an observation.” His grin was practically audible as he tilted his head. “I mean, look at you. Bright red. Are you sure you’re not coming down with something? Or is it just me?”

You spun around so fast you almost knocked into him, your hands flying up to shove at his chest, but he barely budged. “You’re such a—”

“Careful now,” he interrupted, catching your wrists with ease. His grip was light but firm, his thumbs brushing over your skin in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Wouldn’t want you to say something you can’t take back.”

Your glare faltered under his steady gaze, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of looking away. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here you are,” he shot back smoothly, a smirk curling his lips. “It’s almost like you enjoy my company.”

“Well I don’t,” you snapped. “I’m not the one who invited you for dinner Gojo.” 

Gojo’s smirk widened, but he finally released your wrists, stepping back just enough to give you space—though not nearly enough to escape the heat of his presence.

“Hm, ya’know–you’re right,” he spoke slowly, his tone dripping with mock innocence as he turned toward the kitchen, hands sliding casually into his pockets. “I’ll try not to charm ya too much during dinner.”

You stood frozen, your cheeks still blazing and your heart racing as his footsteps faded. With a frustrated huff, you followed, vowing silently not to let him get under your skin again.

—

By the time you were in your early twenties, you had quietly come to terms with your crush on Satoru Gojo.

It wasn’t hard to pinpoint why you liked him. Gojo had been a constant presence in your life since your young teenage years, and despite his insufferable arrogance and larger-than-life personality, there was a charm about him you couldn’t deny. 

He teased you relentlessly, always flashing that blinding smile that made your heart skip a beat.

But it wasn’t just the teasing or the jokes. It was the way he treated you differently, always going out of his way to check on you, lingering just a little longer than necessary whenever you were around.

Still, you convinced yourself it didn’t mean anything. Gojo was like that with everyone—or so you told yourself…It was safer that way.

That afternoon, you sat across from Utahime at your favourite coffee shop in the neighbourhood near the office you worked at, absently stirring your drink as she rattled on about her recent frustrations at work.

You tried to focus—nodding at all the right times, but your mind kept drifting.

“Are you even listening to me?” Utahime asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Of course I am,” you lied, forcing a smile.

“Uh-huh.” She sipped her coffee, then leaned back with a sigh. “You’ve been spacey lately. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you said too quickly, heat creeping up your neck. “Just tired, I guess.”

She gave you a skeptical look but didn’t press further.

The bell above the café door chimed, and you glanced up instinctively—only to immediately wish you hadn’t.

There he was.

Gojo Satoru strolled in like he owned the place, his sunglasses pushed up into his snow-white hair and his hands stuffed casually into his coat pockets. He scanned the room, and the moment his eyes landed on you, his face lit up with a grin that sent your heart racing.

“Great,” you muttered under your breath, sinking lower in your seat.

Utahime’s gaze flicked between you and Gojo, her lips curling into a smirk. “Oh, this should be fun.”

“Don’t you start,” you warned.

Before she could respond, Gojo was already making his way toward your table, exuding his usual overconfidence.

“Ladies,” he greeted, pulling out the chair next to you without waiting for an invitation. “Fancy running into you here.”

“Gojo,” Utahime said dryly, her tone laced with disdain that only seemed to amuse him.

“Utahime,” he replied, his grin widening.

He turned his attention to you, his expression softening slightly. “And you. Shouldn’t you be working?”

“I could say the same to you,” you shot back, doing your best to sound indifferent despite the way your pulse quickened under his gaze.

“Touché,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “But I’d argue that seeing you is much more important than work.”

Utahime snorted, and you felt your cheeks heat up. “Does that line actually work on people?” Utahime asked, sounding as unimpressed as ever.

Gojo shrugged, clearly unbothered. “Guess it depends on the person.”

The conversation moved on—or rather, Utahime and Gojo bickered while you quietly sipped your drink, pretending not to notice the way Gojo kept stealing glances at you.

Then, out of nowhere, he said it.

“So,” Gojo began, his tone deceptively casual as he put one hand on the back of your chair, causing it to tilt back a bit, “what are you doing tonight?”

You froze, your mind racing as your eyes left their place on your coffee and found his. “Why?”

“Because I want to take you out,” he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Dinner. Just the two of us.”

Your jaw nearly hit the table. Surely, you’d misheard him.

Utahime, on the other hand, choked on her coffee.

“Excuse me?” You managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You heard me,” Gojo said, his grin softening into something almost... hopeful. “What do you say?”

For a moment, you were too stunned to respond. You’d spent years convincing yourself that Gojo didn’t see you that way—that his teasing was just his personality, nothing more. But now, staring into those piercing blue eyes, you couldn’t ignore the sincerity in his expression.

Before you could answer, Utahime broke the silence. “Oh my god,” she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“What?” You asked, still reeling.

“I can’t do this…this has been obvious to everyone but you,” she said, looking at you like you’d grown a second head. 

“He’s been obsessed with you for years, and you’re just now realizing it?”

Your face turned scarlet as you stammered, “That’s—that’s not true.”

Gojo, to his credit, looked thoroughly amused. “See? I knew I liked you for a reason, Utahime. It is totally 100% true.”

“Don’t drag me into this,” she said, waving him off before standing up and leaving some cash beside her empty mug. “I’m leaving before this gets any worse. Good luck, Gojo—you’ll need it.”

“Thanks,” he called after her, clearly enjoying himself.

Once Utahime was gone, you turned back to Gojo, your mind still spinning. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” he asked, his tone unusually serious.

You searched his face for any sign of mischief, but there was none. Just that same unwavering confidence and something else—something softer, almost vulnerable.

“Okay,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “One dinner.”

Gojo’s grin returned full force, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t joking.

[edgeray]

Hi ray

Could write dragon! Arlecchino x hunter! Reader who hunts dragon because she was tasked to even tho she didn't wish to do so but little did the reader know that arlecchino is very strong

So when the reader was tasked she was warned by the villagers but what could the reader do but to only obey the orders when the reader met arlecchino trying to hunt her down she failed to do so

Dragon Hunter Mother

(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader)

A/N - Like always, if you want to request something from me again anon, give yourself a name/emoji ☺️ Also, I love this idea. I don't plan out my requests, plot just kinda comes as I write, so let's see what I do with this. I'm assuming you also want reader to be afab as well. Since you didn't say about arlecchino having a human form, I'm just not going to write it. Don't ask me how this turned to be over the limit I said these requests were gonna be. I got carried away with world building and plot. Sorry 😬 . Hopefully this was okay? Honestly, didn't know how I would make it romantic, but I guess I'll put it under romantic? I tried by best anon, feel free to request again if you want me to write it in a different way 🫶. Sorry for taking so long, but here it is!  Content warnings / info - author doesn't know how to write dragons, semi-graphic violence, if it wasn't obvious, Freminet, Lyney, and Lynette make an appearance, 2.6k words 

Stemming from a long line of dragon hunters, it was no surprise that like the rest of your siblings, you would take up the mantle of also being a dragon hunter. Dragon hunting is a service to the kingdom exclusive to only a few noble families like yours, hence why its hunters are practically revered by the kingdom's citizens. Protecting the kingdom, receiving glory after every slaughter, earning a large chunk of the kingdom's money, it's no doubt that many aggrandize and covet to be in the same position. 

You've never wanted to be a dragon hunter. It's an arduous job in a kingdom known for its dragon outbreaks. The Majesty is prompt in requesting dragon hunters, sending them from one corner of the kingdom to the other unhesitatingly, and frequently underestimate the duration that these kill orders take. When the process of dragon hunting involves tracking the dragon, finding the dragon's sanctum, preparing to combat against a dragon, and finally, killing it, it takes at least a week if it's one of the older dragons. The Majesty has high expectations, and it's a struggle to keep up with them. Kill orders were often piled on top of one another, which means immediately after you complete one, it is off to finishing the next one.

It is a job of ruin. When was the last time you've gotten more than a few hours of sleep? The last time you've had a full meal? The last time you were able to have a relaxing bath? 

Killing dragons is not how you would like to waste away your life, slaving away under a duty that everyone idolizes. As you carry on your role, you begin to learn more and more about these flying reptiles; dragons are fascinating, intelligent creatures. It is a shame that many villagers are so terrified of them, dragons actively avoid humans; though for one reason or another, dragons occasionally seek the nearest human civilization, eating farm animals and destroying any shelter or barricade that stands in their way. Perhaps you're just foolish, but you believe that there is a real reason for this behavior, and that there could be a solution to this. 

Until then, you could do little more but heed each order, slaughtering dragon by dragon. Their dying cries plague your dreams every night, leaving you empty and restless. 

You arrive at a village, the emblem on your chest plate that indicates your occupation glints as you step out of the carriage. The village head greets you quickly, settling you down in front of a cup of tea and some snacks, before cutting straight to the details.

“This dragon… I'd be careful. I've heard of you, a genius among geniuses in terms of dragon hunting, but I warn you right now. This dragon is different. Smarter, more powerful than your typical one, I bet. Its fire… even among other dragons, isn't comparable. It can torch the whole village, and it got damn near close to. Cunning bastard as well, it can pinpoint where our sheeps are and it can evade our traps. It disappeared from our village a few decades… we assumed it died naturally, but then it returned again earlier this season.”

“When was the last time it attacked? Do you know what kind of dragon it is?”

“No. We’ve never seen a dragon like it before. I'm not sure if it follows under the kingdom's classifications. It's black and white with three pairs of wings! And its tail… sharp like, like…like a scythe, can slice houses in half! Its claws are just as dangerous too. Can breathe fire, of course.”

Three pairs of wings… that means this dragon is considerably old. Dragons gain pairs of wings after their first set through molting, which only occurs every fifty or sixty months following reaching maturity, meaning this dragon was at least a century old. You grimace. Older dragons are always harder to get rid of. Most of the dragons that you encounter only have one pair, on the rare occasion, two. This is the first time you've been assigned a three-paired dragon.

Its colorings are also strange; you've never heard of a black and white dragon specifically. The tail description, however, isn't very uncommon; it could be a signifier that this is an incredibly rare hybrid among dragon species. If it's as powerful as it's said, and if you consider its age, then perhaps they come from one of the Dynasty species… but a descendent of that species hasn't been seen in many years. If this is true, then of course it wouldn't follow under the kingdom's ordinary classifications of dragons. Still, a hybrid? Mating between different species almost never happens. This really was a special case. And its disappearance? You couldn't even fathom why.

“Do you know at least where it lives?”

The village head turns to his right, pointing in that direction. “If you continue that direction, you'll come across a forest. That's where it goes. We don't know where it lives, we've been too scared to try and find out ourselves.”

You sigh. Well, this wasn't much to work with. “Is there anywhere I can stay?” 

“Yes, yes. There's a room above the bar that's just for you. Free of charge, of course. The food as well. Just please… eradicate this beast.” 

“I'll do my best.” 

—

No matter how many forests you go to, you never become fonder of them. Traversing them was always annoying. Too much greenery to walk through, too many streams and rivers to cross, and just too many damn trees. This terrain is especially difficult to find traces of dragons in. It'd be better to make your own traces then scour through the forest to search for them, hence why you're at a stream, catching as much fish as you can with a net. Fish makes for good dragon bait, though you don't intend to use it to trap the dragon. You doubt any trap you could make in the little time you have could kill or harm the dragon, but it will lure the dragon to you.

You pause to take a break, glancing at the pile of fish you've collected. The smell is starting to assault your nostrils. Ugh. 

You hear a crunch behind you, and you turn. Your eyes widen and you pick up your sword, raising them towards the three dragons that surround you. Adrenaline pumps through you as you stand up, observing the creatures. 

All of them only have one-pair of wings, with similar features and size; they’re as large as bear cubs, if you subtract their tail length, and you realize that they're baby dragons, yet to reach maturity. They have, notably, distinct colorings, but they all share the same black and gray coloring. Perhaps they come from the same hatch? The one to your right has red, almost maroon, splotches over their scales. This one is wide eyed, but its features are relaxed as if playful and curious. The one in the middle seems to be the smallest, fearful as if it’s cowering with its dipped head and the tail wrapping around itself protectively; this one has almost a marigold accent to it. The one to the right is teal, and passive, like it doesn't see you in the slightest. 

Baby dragons are hardly as aggressive or destructive as their adult counterparts, but that doesn't mean they can't pose a danger. Still, you don't want to harm them, not when they haven't done anything that would warrant you to.

The red one approaches, deliberately, sniffing towards your direction. You brace your sword, and it trudges up to you, nostrils grazing against your armor before it nudges against your hand. It then walks past you, its focus deadset on the pile of fish behind you. The two other dragons follow in the red one's lead, and you sigh in relief, placing your sword back in its sheathes.

Baby dragons, three of them especially, are a rare sight, as they're often sheltered in their father's den, and they don't venture out until they've fully matured. This being because they're quite vulnerable despite the threat they hold once they've matured. Eliminating them is a part of your duty, however, you never feel right killing creatures that have just hatched. They couldn't be more than ten years old; they still had a few more decades before they could pose a danger. If they're out like this, it's likely they've been abandoned. Mother dragons often leave their young after childbirth, and the fathers are left to take care of them; it could be that the father died recently. 

Whatever the case, you think that they deserve to live a little longer. Plus, they're kind of cute… 

Although, the more you observe them, the more you feel you should prevent the fish supply you spent all day getting from declining. They seem less cute now. You groan as they eat until there's no more fish, and they turn back to you, croaking as if requesting more. 

What are you, their mother? Your eye twitches in vexation. 

You spend your evening fishing for baby dragons at the river. Un-fucking-believable. Weren't you wonderful at your job? 

You decide to leave the dragons at the river bank as you search for wood to make a campfire. To your slight annoyance and amusement, the young dragons trail behind you. You get random twigs and branches that scatter the forest floor. One of the dragons, the yellow one, picks up a branch in their mouth, before offering it to you. 

Damn it, why did you have to be a dragon hunter? You take the stick in your hand, hesitantly petting the top of its head. This is something you’ve never done before, but you wouldn't mind doing it again. It leans into your hand. You don't deserve this treatment, you hunt their kind. Oh, how you wish you could tell them what you'd have to do once they grow up. Why did you have to be a dragon hunter? You're holding back tears as you continue the petting action. 

Its other siblings, unbeknownst to your existential crisis, follow its behavior, and you've turned the baby dragons into your personal campfire wood carriers. You think dragon trainor fits you better than a dragon hunter at this point, but that profession doesn't grant an affordable life. 

Seating yourself on a tree stump, you build your campfire and light it. You use it to cook a fish over, while you try to fend off said trout from being eaten by the dragons. By the time it's done cooking, the little creatures are exhausated, curling against you as the three fall asleep against your legs and back. You don't want to admit it, but it's a comfortable weight against you. You didn't even know that dragons snore until now.

Peace at last, you think, finally able to eat your fish alone. 

Too soon, too soon. You hear it before you see it, the whipping of winds that you can only associate with the beating of dragon wings as it flies. The sound grows louder, meaning it's heading straight towards you. You stand up, unsheathing your sword and bracing yourself for an assault. Shit, shit, shit, you're not prepared to fight in this territory whatsoever. What was it attracted to? The campfire? The smell of your fish? Or perhaps… you glance at the still sleeping creatures. 

You don't have much time to ponder as the ground shakes when the beast lands in front of you, right on top of the river, its gargantuan form making you tremble. An earth shattering roar escapes its throat, nearly making you tumble back from the sheer force, and your ears ring painfully. 

You've never seen a larger dragon before. You count the pair of wings through squinted eyes. One, two, three. This is the dragon you've been hired to hunt? 

The hand holding your sword doesn't stop shaking, no matter how much you try to control your muscles. The adult dragon nears, and your heart rate pounds louder and louder with each footstep. Black and white colorings? Check. Sharp tail? Check. You know you have to fight it, but how could you possibly? It dwarfs you in every single way possible. 

It swipes its tail at you, and you duck as fast as possible, just barely missing being sliced in half like the trees behind you. Its tail retracts to lunge at you again, and you block the sharp end with your sword, though it just swats you away easily, throwing you across the bank of the river. You land on the gravel with a pained groan, and you scramble to get up, facing the dragon. 

Piercing red-crossed eyes gaze back at you, and you no longer feel like the hunter. Instead, you feel like the prey, and every fiber of your being is telling you to run. You wield your sword again resolutely. If you die, then you die, but you'll die knowing you tried. The dragon tilts its head back, preparing its fiery breath, and you ready your wrist shield. 

Suddenly, a familiar croak comes from behind the adult dragon, and you see the baby dragons rush into the adult dragon, headbutting its feet. The dragon snaps its head back into its normal position, gazing down at the small dragons at its feet. You're afraid that the larger dragon will crush them, but instead it growls. The young ones chirp back, communicating with it. 

You stand there, bewildered, the pieces coming together in your mind quickly. Is the black and white dragon their father? Are they trying to save you? The tension in your shoulders relaxes the slightest bit. The father dragon whips its head back to you, and you freeze, paralyzed under its predatory gaze. Too swiftly does its tail shoot towards you, but instead of impaling you as you prepared, it merely wraps around your midsection, lifting you effortlessly. You drop your sword out of pure shock from being in mid air, and it brings you face to face with the dragon. 

The dragon snarls, baring its teeth, and you think it's the end once you see its pearly whites. Instead, however, it sniffs you, before pausing, observing you more. You're holding your breath, wondering when you will meet your fate. It opens its mouth wide, displaying a row of teeth in its oral cavern. You squeeze your eyes shut but all you feel is something warm, wet, and slimey. A tongue drags across your face, and you cringe, immediately bringing your hands to wipe away the thick saliva. The tail around you loosens, and you fall on your back, grunting from the impact of hitting the floor. 

Okay. Well, you're alive at least, you think, once you get the liquid out of your eyes but it is unfortunately in your hair. If it hasn't killed you yet, then it must mean that it likes you? 

You open your eyes, and see that the dragon lays in front of you, its snout just a feet away from you. Each huff from the dragon blows your hair back with hot air, but you don't mind it. The smaller dragons prance by your side, chirping and croaking with a high-pitched tone. Bemused but just grateful that you've yet met your end, you pet their heads. By the growl from the father, they approve of your action, and your heart melts. You reach out to pet the snout of the larger dragon, and it closes its eyes, further nudging against you before a grumbly purr escapes its throat.

Seems like you've just been forcibly adopted by a family of dragons. You don't think you'll complain that much. 

[joyfulcowboycandy]

My tears, oh my tears, I just read your Lilia fic😭😭😭😭I don't think I'll be able to get through my day well. I really need a happy ending for him with her🤧🤧🤧

HI ANON! Thank you for your request ❤! I had to think pretty hard for an idea and I settled on this I hope it's satisfactory! I'm not very good at writing fluff and happy endings so I tried my best:p

Lilia Vonrogue x Reader

❥ part two (part 1: here)

Content warning: none

fem reader

Lilia had spent countless years as a hardened warrior, fighting on the front lines and keeping his heart guarded from attachment or sentimentality. But when she died in his arms, all his strength and resilience seemed to dissolve. Now, he was left with only her memory—and the child she’d entrusted to him, Silver. Raising Silver should have been a way to honor her, but each day felt like a reminder of his failure to protect her. Despite this, he kept her memory close, never sharing the truth with anyone else.

When he’d returned to Briar Valley, he had simply told others he’d found the boy abandoned. He didn’t want their sympathy, their prying questions, or their pity. She was his secret, a part of his soul he guarded as fiercely as any territory he’d once protected in battle.

Though he loved Silver fiercely, Lilia struggled to raise him properly. Silver was human, fragile and dependent in a way that bewildered him. Malleus, though eager to help, was just as lost. He was unused to anything so delicate, and his fascination with Silver’s human traits sometimes did more harm than good.

“I do not understand, Lilia,” Malleus said once as they watched Silver wail at the unfamiliar taste of solid food. “Why does he reject this nourishment? Fae children devour their first meals.”

Lilia only chuckled, masking his own frustration. “Human babies don’t always eat everything, Malleus. They’re… unpredictable.”

But when he was alone, Lilia was less assured. How could he teach a child when his own life had been war and solitude? He often tried to remember the warmth of her smile as she held Silver, the way she’d cradled him with a patience and gentleness he could never seem to match. He’d even picked up books on human parenting, flipping through pages with an intensity usually reserved for military strategies. Yet, with every attempt to follow the words, he felt her absence even more sharply, the emptiness of her laughter lingering in the silence of their small home.

Silver was growing quickly, and with him, Lilia’s feelings shifted. At times, Silver’s big eyes, so much like hers, would look up at him with a trust that made Lilia’s heart ache. But he was also reminded of his failings. How could he raise this child with warmth when he had none left to give? He was a warrior, not a father. And yet… he couldn’t let her down. Each time he saw Silver sleep, curled up and peaceful, he’d lean against the doorway and watch, feeling something unfamiliar and gentle soften his battle-worn heart.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.          Years Later

As he grew older, Silver began to notice things that didn’t quite fit the stories his father told him. Lilia had always said he found Silver, abandoned and alone, and that he’d taken him in. But there were gaps in the story, inconsistencies that left Silver questioning his past.

Sometimes, late at night, Silver would wake to find his father sitting by the fire, staring into the flames with a distant, sorrowful expression Silver had rarely seen. And sometimes, Lilia would hold a small trinket—a ribbon, or a faded piece of cloth—that he quickly hid whenever Silver approached.

“Father,” Silver asked once, “were you alone when you found me?”

Lilia’s gaze shifted, and he masked his expression with a wry smile. “You were all I found that day, Silver. Just a bundle of trouble waiting to happen.”

But Silver couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it. Over time, he learned not to ask too many questions, knowing they would only be deflected. Yet, the mysteries lingered, especially in the moments when he saw a softness in Lilia that he couldn’t quite understand—a gentleness that seemed to speak of someone else.

One night, Silver dozed off after a long day of training, only to find himself drifting into a dream unlike any he’d ever had before. It felt unusually vivid, he realized he were stepping into someone else’s memories rather than his own. He was in a dimly lit forest clearing, and through a haze of recollection, he saw his father, but not as he knew him. This version of Lilia seemed slightly younger, sterner, his gaze sharper and full of fire. And beside him was a woman Silver had never seen before.

She was human, with soft, gentle eyes, and the way she looked at his father was unlike anything Silver had ever witnessed. In one scene, she was gently binding a wound on Lilia’s arm, her hands steady and careful. Lilia was grumbling, clearly unused to being cared for in such a way, but there was a tenderness in his eyes, a look Silver had never seen directed at anyone before.

The memory shifted, and now she was holding a small child—an infant Silver realized with a start was himself. She whispered to the baby in her arms, her words too soft for him to hear, but the expression of love on her face was unmistakable. And when Lilia glanced at her, it was with a mix of admiration, something deeper and unspoken lingering in his gaze.

Silver stirred, feeling an ache in his chest he couldn’t explain. Who was this woman, and why had his father never mentioned her? The dream faded, but the questions remained, and the next morning, he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Father,” he began hesitantly, watching Lilia’s face, “I had a dream last night… or maybe a memory. There was a woman with you. She looked… kind.”

Lilia stiffened, his usual mirth fading as he met Silver’s gaze. For a moment, he was silent, his eyes betraying a depth of pain Silver had never seen before.

“She was…” Lilia’s voice was barely a whisper. “Someone I lost long ago.”

Silver remained quiet, sensing the weight of the memory and the love his father had hidden all these years. Though Lilia didn’t offer any more details, Silver understood that this woman—his mother—had been someone truly special. 

Silver felt a quiet desperation gnawing at him. Now that he had glimpsed a fragment of her—a woman he felt connected to yet hardly knew—a hollow ache settled in his chest. His father had always kept his sorrow hidden, masking any sign of grief with his usual humor and lightheartedness. But after seeing her, Silver couldn’t ignore the emptiness left by her absence, and he couldn’t accept that this was the end of their story.

The longing grew sharper with each day, his mind drifting back to the mystery of her—a mother he barely remembered, a bond he could only dream of. How could he let things end like this? To never have truly known her felt wrong. Still, he was just a human, and what power did he have over something as final as death?

But the thought wouldn’t let him rest. He was not as helpless as he felt. He was strong, he knew magic, and he was connected to some of the most powerful beings in Twisted Wonderland. Surely there was a way—some forbidden knowledge, some hidden path he hadn’t yet considered.

And then he remembered the rumors, whispers of a witch who resided far beyond Briar Valley, somewhere between worlds, where human souls and fae magic brushed against each other. A powerful sorceress who understood the mysteries of life and death and could speak to the spirits themselves.

The path to this witch wouldn’t be easy, but Silver knew he couldn’t turn back now. This was something he had to do—not just for himself, but for the one who had given everything for him, the one he knew his father had loved in a way he had never spoken of.

Silver set out quietly, keeping his journey a secret from his father, Sebek and Malleus. He ventured through dense forests and past enchanted lakes, traveling farther than he ever had before. His heart remained steadfast, though fear began to settle in as he neared his destination.

Finally, after days of travel, he reached the borderlands between the human world and the realm of the sea—a place where twilight lingered, where ancient stones rose from the mist, and the air was thick with enchantment. In the shadows of the rocks, he caught sight of her: the witch he had heard of. She was cloaked in dark robes, her figure partially obscured, but her gaze was piercing, as though she had been expecting him.

“You seek to bring back a lost soul,” she said before Silver even spoke. Her voice was calm but held a warning, laced with an unsettling wisdom. “A dangerous wish, young one. Life and death are not to be tampered with lightly.”

Silver’s resolve held firm. “I know it’s dangerous, but… she was taken from us too soon. I just want the chance to know her, even if it’s only once.”

The witch regarded him in silence, her expression unreadable. “To bring back a soul from beyond… it requires a great sacrifice,” she finally said. “Not in gold, not in power, but in spirit. To restore what was lost, you must be willing to give something of equal weight in return.”

“What do you mean?” Silver asked, feeling a shiver of uncertainty.

She gave him a steady look. “It will cost you a piece of yourself. Memories, perhaps, or a fragment of your own life force. To give life, something must be taken. And even then, it may not work as you hope. The dead do not always return as they were.”

Silver’s heart raced, but he nodded, his determination unwavering. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

The witch watched him, assessing his resolve before finally nodding. She led him to a clearing at the edge of the shore, where she instructed him to gather rare herbs and light a circle of candles in the shape of the full moon.

Silver could feel the energy drain from him as the witch chanted in the language of old, his very life force spilling into the circle they had created. He closed his eyes, focusing on his mother’s face, the brief glimpses he had seen in his dreams—the gentle smile, the warmth that lingered even in a memory. He barely noticed as the witch’s voice faded, the mist thickening in front of him until it nearly obscured the world.

When he opened his eyes, she was there.

She stood just beyond the edge of the mist, her form wrapped in simple robes of soft, muted colors, somewhere between the shades of twilight and dawn. Her hair, flowing, caught the light in a gentle, silvery sheen. Silver’s heart stilled, his breath caught in his throat as he took in her familiar features—the softness of her gaze, the contours of her face that mirrored his own.

For a moment, she looked around in confusion, her brow furrowing as her gaze settled on him, lingering with a glimmer of recognition that hadn’t fully settled. She studied his face, her eyes taking in every feature as if piecing together a puzzle from fragments of memory.

Silver’s lips parted, and the word slipped out like a breath. “Mother…”

Her eyes widened, the dawning realization flooding her expression, and then, as if nothing else in the world mattered, she moved toward him. At first, a tentative step, and then, as recognition and emotion surged within her, she rushed forward, wrapping her arms around him with a force that belied her slight frame. Silver’s arms moved instinctively to hold her, his heart pounding as he felt the solid warmth of her, the reality of her presence.

They held each other for a long moment, both too overwhelmed to speak, both still trembling with the fragile wonder of what had just happened. She pulled back slightly, gazing up at him, her eyes studying every line and shadow on his face. She let out a soft, incredulous laugh, a sound both joyful and tearful.

“Silver…” she whispered, her voice filled with wonder. “You… you’ve grown so much. You’re so big now.”

Silver managed a shaky smile, barely able to contain the overwhelming surge of emotions. “I… I never thought I’d see you…”

Her hand reached up, brushing his cheek, her fingers lingering as though she was still trying to assure herself he was real. “I don’t understand how… or why… but I felt something calling me back, a longing I couldn’t ignore.” Her voice faltered, softening. “I thought I’d lost you both forever.”

Silver shook his head, his own hand moving to cover hers. “No. I had to bring you back. I had to know you—just once.” His voice broke slightly, but he didn’t care; he needed her to know the depth of his longing, the years he had wondered about her.

They shared another silent moment, just taking in the wonder of being reunited before Silver finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “There’s someone who needs to see you… someone who’s missed you even more than I have.”

Her gaze brightened, and she nodded, a glimmer of emotion flickering in her eyes as she realized who he meant. “Take me to him.”

When they returned to Briar Valley, Silver led her to the castle, his heart racing with anticipation and awe. Lilia was there, his usually cheerful expression softening as he spotted Silver at the entrance. But when his gaze landed on the figure beside him, he froze.

For a heartbeat, Lilia seemed unable to comprehend what he was seeing. His eyes widened, his mouth slightly open as he took in the sight of her, standing beside Silver, alive, her eyes shining as she met his gaze.

“Lilia…” she whispered, her voice breaking as tears pooled in her eyes.

Lilia took a hesitant step forward, his composure slipping away, replaced by an expression Silver had never seen before—a vulnerability, a disbelief, and a raw, overwhelming joy. “How…?” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Unable to hold back any longer, she moved toward him, her steps quickening until she wrapped her arms around him, clinging to him as if he might vanish. Lilia’s arms encircled her, holding her tightly, and a tear slipped down his cheek as he buried his face in her shoulder.

They stayed like that, the two of them locked in an embrace, their reunion marked by silent tears and whispered words of comfort and disbelief. Silver watched, a warmth filling his chest, his heart swelling with quiet happiness as he witnessed the reunion he had always longed for.

When they finally pulled back, Lilia placed a gentle hand on her face, brushing away a tear. “I thought I’d lost you forever,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, his eyes softened with a depth of love that Silver had never seen before.

She placed her hand over his. “You never lost me. I was always there… watching over you both.”

Lilia looked toward Silver, his gaze filled with gratitude and something else—a newfound pride, a warmth that he struggled to put into words.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.  BONUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Silver led his mother, Y/N, through the stone corridors of the castle. She held herself with quiet grace, her steps soft, but she was clearly a bit nervous. As they approached the courtyard, Malleus and Sebek stood waiting, expressions guarded yet curious.

“Mother,” Silver began, a touch of pride in his voice, “these are my friends: Malleus Draconia and Sebek Zigvolt.”

Y/N gave a small, respectful nod, her gaze briefly meeting theirs before she glanced aside shyly. “It’s… nice to meet you both. I’ve heard a little of you on the way here.”

Malleus tilted his head, regarding her with a steady, thoughtful gaze. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”

“Wait,” Sebek interjected, brows drawing together in confusion, “Silver, you… have a mother? That’s not the story Master Lilia told us…” His voice was skeptical, yet respectful.

Silver shifted slightly. “I uh…. Well, it’s complicated…”

Just then, Lilia approached, hands behind his back, giving the scene an amused glance before his gaze softened on Y/N. She caught his eye, a bit of warmth there, even if neither spoke right away.

“Lilia,” Malleus finally ventured, “perhaps you could enlighten us?”

Lilia gave a faint smirk, his tone dry. “Oh, I do seem to have forgotten a few details, haven’t I?” His eyes flicked to Y/N with a hint of warmth. “She has a habit of showing up when you least expect it.”

Y/N chuckled softly, glancing at Lilia. “Some things haven’t changed.”

Sebek was still gaping, while Malleus studied the quiet exchange between Y/N and Lilia with a thoughtful look. Lilia only shrugged, his voice nonchalant but his gaze carrying a deeper feeling as he said, “Every family has a few secrets, after all.”

Bonus 2: Y/n: Oh… You cut your hair. Lilia: Yes, I did… Did you like it longer? I’ll grow it out. Y/n: W-what? It’s okay! I love it now too. It’s cute. Lilia: I love you too–oh, I mean I love it too, yes.

[storiesfromafan]

Look Who's Jealous Now - Benny x Reader

A/N: I was surprised by the amount of interest in the sneak peak I posted got. Thank you all!! Forgive any grammer or spelling mistakes 😅

Previous part: Jealousy Does Look Good On You 😊

Also, I posted this challenge. Feel free to check it out and make a request 😊😊

Tag list: @strayrockette @thegabbyh

Being Benny's girl meant being by his side, arm around you or his jacket. His stormy blue eyes seeking you out in the bar, sparkling when finding you sitting with Kathy or other Vandal women. Him picking you up after work. And taking you for rides on his bike.

Which led to today's Vandal ride. A group of you going to a car show. Those that didn't ride, gave the bikers looks of disgust or distaste. All the while, other biker clubs gave some sign of recognition. You found it all fascinating, how bike owners and car owners didn’t get along. But there were a few exceptions.

You were sitting on a blanket with a few other women, Benny was standing near by with Johnny in conversation. Both men drink in hand and laughing at something Johnny said. You smiled at your man, admiring the boyish smile on his face, or when he'd laugh. Then those eyes were looking at you, as if he'd felt your gaze on him. Benny gave you a soft warm smile, which had you melting.

“Give it a rest, will ya" jested Betty, pushing your shoulder.

Braking eye contact with Benny, you looked back to the older woman, as well as Kathy and Gale as they laughed at you. After that night a month ago, hearing what happened with Benny after you took off. The women had teased you on and off. And every time you and Benny gave each other the goo-goo eyes, one of them told you to give it a rest. You couldn't help it, you were in the early stages of this relationship.

“Sorry my happiness offends ya" you retorted sticking your tongue out.

Once more the women laughed, this time you joined in with them. You felt light and happy. From both the women around you, but also because of Benny. If someone had told you a month ago this was what was install for you, you wouldn’t have believed them. Right now you were happy, even if the road to get here was crazy.

Benny watched how you laughed with the other women. Smiling happily that you were having a good time. For him this month has felt like being on the open road, content and freeing. Finally making you his girl made him feel complete. But also, part of him still felt bad for upsetting you that night. It wasn’t his intentions when being around Angela. But he didn’t feel bad for using her to bait your outburst. He liked that you’d been jealous, made him feel good to know you wanted him, just as much as he wanted you.

“Stop it with the goo-goo eyes, will ya” Johnny said with a roll of his eyes, bringing Benny’s attention back to the older man. “Ya makin’ me sick, kid”. He joked with a laugh.

Benny laughed, sticking his free hand in his jeans pockets. “Whatever old man".

Johnny smile warmly at the younger Vandal. “Nuh, I’m happy for ya, both of ya. It was ‘bout time ya made her ya girl. You’d both been tippy-toein’ around it".

Benny felt embarrassed hearing those words. Because it was true. But you were different to all the other girls – women – for Benny didn’t want to show off and take you just on a ride of his bike. That would have been to easy. That’s why he spent the time with you, talking with you. He wanted to know you. And he did. But then he got nervous and somewhat shy to ask you out. He found himself second guessing himself.

Benny told you that, opening up to you as best her could. And since then you have done everything to reassure him that you wanted him. If you could tell Benny was starting to doubt or second guess himself, you’d be there, doing everything to show him he was good enough or right. Then when it came to you, Benny was pushing you out of your comfort zone also. The best example of that was when you’d ride with him. He’d go so fast on the open road that you would be cursing, telling him to slow down. But he’d always say you’ve got nothin' to worry about sweetheart, I won’t let anythin' happen to ya. And you would believe him. You always will.

“Yeah...she’s really somethin'" Benny said with pride, his eyes going back to you.

You got up from your spot on the blanket, along with Kathy. You both needed to use the restroom. The short walk was filled with conversation and laughter. Kathy being one of the women you were closest too. You thought she was nice and honest, no beating around the bush with her.

After doing what you both had too, you began to walk back to the others, only taking your time to look at the cars in passing. Neither of you knew much to do with cars, but you admired their looks.

“Such a nice colour" Kathy commented on the current car you were both looking at.

You nodded. “It really is, bet she sounds good too".

“You should see her on the road" came a familiar male voice from behind you.

You turned around in shock to see your old family friend Victor. You smiled brightly, taking in how he had changed since you had seen him last, which was before he went back to college. He looked fitter, and tanner. No doubt from playing football. He was the boy next door mixed with jock.

“Victor! My gosh!” You said with amazement, before moving to give him a quick hug. “How have ya been?”

Victor laughed as he hugged you back. You stepped back and looked at him with amazement. Remembering Kathy by your side, you apologized and introduced the two. Victor shook Kathy’s hand with a warm smile, as he said hello. Kathy looked between you too, finding it all to amusing to see you both reuniting.

Unfortunately for you, someone else had been watching. Benny had seen you and Kathy making your way back, but stopping to admire different cars. He smiled at how cute you were. He was making his way to you when he saw the athletic young man step up. And then watched the surprise on your face before you both shared a brief hug.

It left a sour taste in Benny’s mouth, seeing you smile and talk to this guy. And usually he’d find your sheepishness cute – when it’s aimed at him – but he strongly disliked it when it came to this guy. He asked himself who was this guy, anyways?

Slowly Benny crept forward, catching the end of whatever you’d been saying to Kathy.

“...our families have been so close, especially after Victor" – so that’s his name, Benny thought – “and my brother played together on the football team. Guess you went on to play college ball, huh?” You softly laughed, looking to Victor.

Yep, Benny didn’t like this guy. He did not like the preppy look of him. And he really didn’t like how you were all smiles and giddy. Dare he say, Benny Cross was jealous of the guy you were with? Yes, a hundred percent he was.

Stepping up to you, as your back was to him, Benny put his arm around you. Drawing you close before putting a kiss to your temple, all the while staring down Victor. “Hey sweetheart" he greeted with his deep voice.

You jumped before realising who it was. Relaxing, you turned to Benny with a bright smile. Leaning up to place a peck to the corner of his lips. “Hey".

Once you moved your head back you noticed that Benny’s gaze was focused on Victor, his eyes drawn in and sharp on the young male. Whom was standing there looking at Benny, with a smile upon his face, not a care in the world. You shot Kathy a confused look, which she shrugged at. Though you both could feel some kind of tension between the two males.

“Ah, I think I’ll head back” Kathy slowly said, deciding to remove herself from the situation.

You shot her a sour look before she took off. Leaving you with the two males from and in your life. Neither male looked away from the other. You guessed Benny was staking his claim to you, as he probably didn’t know who Victor was. And Victor, being like a big brother, was working out if Benny was good enough.

“Well...” you said clearing your voice. “Benny, this Victor, an old friend to my family. Victor, this Benny, my boyfriend".

You looked a little shock after calling Benny your boyfriend. That word never leaving your lips before. Sure, you’d called him it in your head. You felt a warmth rise in your chest after voicing what Benny was to you. As you were known as Benny’s girl. With a silly smile upon your face you turned to your boyfriend, placing a hand on his chest. Which seemed to get Benny’s attention.

Looking to you, he was greeted to the sight of you smiling up at him. Seeing that silly smile warmed his heart, almost making him forget the man who’d hugged you. He could see a twinkle in your eyes, like something perked you up more. Whatever it was, Benny liked it and always wanted you be like this.

Victor cleared his throat. “It’s nice to meet you".

Both you and Benny turned to face Victor. “Yeah, nice to meet ya". That pointed looked back on Benny's  face as he looked to the man before him.

Victor nodded his head. “Well, as I mentioned before, this car" – he moved to stand by his car – “is amazing on the road. I’ll have to take you for a ride, hey cupcake".

You rolled your eyes at the old nickname, but bashfully smiled. “Vic...not that nickname. Let it die, please”.

Victor laughs at your words. “I will never let it go, cupcake”.

You moved forward and swatted Victor’s arm, making him laugh more. And then you laughed as well. All the while Benny watched the playfulness between you too, and not liking it one bit. Especially when Victor put his hand on your arm, holding firmly to stop you once and for all. The way this guy looked at you, the familiarity and warmth. It was off putting for Benny. This guy, even if he’s an old family friend, having his hand on you and looking at your warmly, ticked him off. That green eyed monster rising.

“How about that drive sometime?” Victor’s voice brought Benny back to the matter at hand, the male speaking.

“Ah, yeah. That would be” – you looked to Benny, but am surprised to see the unfriendly look directed to Victor – “...great". Great coming out unsure.

Your old friends face lit up when you agreed, not noticing the uncertainty in your voice. Going on about where you both should take a drive too. All the while you were unsure on how Benny was taking all this. Though with every passing moment that look seems to get darker, and getting annoyed.

That’s when it hit you. Benjamin Cross was jealous. Jealous of your old family friend Victor. Turning back to Victor, you couldn’t help the wicked little smile that crossed your lips. Now would be the best time to give your boyfriend a taste of his own medicine. Finally you could show him how you felt when he spent time with Angela.

“I don’t mind where we go" you replied, placing a hand on Victor’s arm. “As long as you can open that car up".

Benny’s gazed moved to you, not impressed with your reply.

“Of course! She’s made to go fast" Victor laughed.

You continued to smile, looking at Victor. You both talk about his car, you asking any and every question you can think of. All the while feeling the dark cloud that was Benny behind you.

And oh Benny was not enjoying the attention you were giving this guy. Nor did he like the way Victor was smiling at you. He knew he was an old family friend, friends with your brother. But a small part of him wondered if you had ever had a crush on him. If Victor had liked you. Did either of you act on it. Was there hand holding and cuddling. Or did you ever kiss. Every thought making the jealousy in him grown.

Then he did it. Victor held your hand as he led you around behind his car. Leaving Benny standing there seething. This guy had the audacity to take your hand and lead you away from him. Benny’s hands clenched for a moment, before he unclenched them, for he had to control this anger, to control the want to lay hands on this man. He wouldn’t – couldn’t do that, for you would not forgive him if he did.

Next minute he heard your loud giggle. That was it. Snapping out of it Benny made his way to you both. You were leaning against the back of the car, still in conversation with Victor, who stood too close to you with that charming smile. With a small growl, Benny walked over between the two of you. Victor taking a few steps back.

“Benny?” You asked confused and concerned at the annoyed look on your boyfriend’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything alright?” Asked Victor, which made Benny turn and glared at him.

Without a word Benny pulled you from your leaning position. And without an ounce of trouble, he picked you up so you were over his shoulder. You let out a surprised yelp. After realising what had just happened you started to hit at Benny’s back and saying for him to put me down. But it fell on deaf ears, as your boyfriend then stomped off, back towards his bike.

“Ah, sorry Vic!” You called, throwing him a slight wave.

The man you’d just called to looked at you with a shocked expression, returning your wave awkwardly. With every step you continued to hit Benny’s back and repeating your demand to be put down.

“What is ya problem!?” You practically yelled, now gaining an audience as you both moved on.

Benny huffed. “Had enough of him" was his gruff reply.

You blinked, taking a pause from hitting your boyfriend. “Come again?” You asked in confusion.

“I said, I had enough of him" Benny stated, like it was fact.

“Hmm" you hummed.

You took a moment to let his words sink in. As well as his actions. You smiled at your jealous boyfriend, before starting to laugh. Your plan looked to have worked. You got under his skin. You practically cackled, which had Benny questioning you on what’s up with ya?

You smiled brightly. “My, my, my. Looks who’s jealous now, huh?” And again you laughed.

Benny huffed, jostling you on his shoulder, silencing you. He smirked at that. Though it didn’t last for long. As you began to sing that he was jealous. Reaching his bike Benny planted you back on your feet, met with a big grin on your face.

“Admit it, you were jealous~” you sang.

Benny rolled his eyes, but feeling embarrassed by the weight of your attention on him. Yes, he was jealous. And a small part of him feared it could be the start of loosing you. You noticed how Benny looked away, his eyes looking worried. Your smile dropped. You stepped closer seeing how worried he was. You brought your hands up, cupping his face and turning his gaze back to you.

“Hey, you have nothin' to worry about" you said softly, eyes boring into his beautiful baby blues. “If ya think I’d want Vic, no chance. I want my bike riding Vandal any day".

Hearing those words, Benny let out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. His eyes softening, the worry slowly leaving. Replaced with warmth and endearment for you, which is everything you had for him.

You pulled Benny’s face towards yours, the Vandal not putting up a fight. You brought his lips to yours in a soft, tender kiss. A reassurance he needed, and felt from you. Wrapping an arm around you, Benny drew you in close. You smiled at how needy he could be at times. But you wouldn’t push it away or say no.

Pulling back you looked at your man. “I still can’t believe ya got jealous" you giggled.

Benny groaned, hiding his face in your crook of your neck which only made your giggle turn into a laugh. Retaliating, Benny began to nip at your neck. Which earned him a small squeal from him, and a playful slap to his shoulder. You both laughing at it all.

“Yeah, I’ll admit I was jealous, happy?” Benny muttered against your skin.

Smiling triumphantly you said, “good...now ya know how I felt".

[artficlly]

smog & spirits: the rat king (mini-series)

Marvel 1920s Gangster/Peaky Blinders Inspired Fantasy AU

gangsterboss!bucky x witch!reader

Bucky Barnes, the leader of Sootstone's Smog Boys, needs a favour. A nasty curse has been cast on him, and he needs a witch to help him break it.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, fem reader, physical violence, angst, wound description, threats, some fluff, protective bucky, bucky barnes had issues, cults and religion mentioned, criminals & crime, 1920s street gangs, witchcraft, vaguely british setting??, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 6.2k

A/N: hi!! just wanted to say thank you all so much for the love on the last chapter and sticking with me!! i know i hadn't posted in forever with being busy with uni and all so it really made me happy that people still remembered this fic. this chapter (once again) was supposed to cover a lot more but i got carried away lol, so instead i'm posting this half and then the next half soon once i have it properly written up. anyway!! please enjoy!! sorry for any typos - not proof read.

taglist: @nash-dara @sebastians-love

main masterlist | series masterlist

Gertrude Crowley was a nervous woman.

It was the first thing you noticed about her; her movements were hesitant, as though she feared drawing too much attention. In the dim light, you noticed her face—worn, yes, but not aged beyond her years. Lines of worry etched her brow and framed her mouth. Her greying hair, streaked with darker remnants of its original chestnut hue, was hastily pinned beneath a weathered black scarf, frazzled tufts poking through the holes strewn throughout the fabric.

“Tea, Ms. Crowley?” You asked the woman. Despite your soft tone, the woman jumped in her seat, hand raising to her bosom as she took in a sharp breath.

“I suppose, Dear.” She squeaked in reply

You gave the older woman a reassuring smile, hoping to calm her fears. Her pale blue eyes darted away quickly, revealing a haunted expression. They glanced at you briefly, then withdrew as if frightened by what they might find. She fidgeted with her hands, the frayed edges of her gloves exposing trembling fingers.

“Tea is good for the soul, don’t you think?” You hummed to her softly, your upper half bent over your kitchen table, and you poured the steaming liquid into two cups. You hoped the woman wouldn’t comment on how the ceramic was chipped; the painted flowers faded from years of use. “Always so cold in The Warrens, it warms you up from the inside.”

Ms Crowley nodded stiffly, teacup rattling against its matching plate as she held it in trembling hands. You took a brief moment to observe her, eyes searching her appearance. Her clothing was plain but serviceable—a dark woollen cloak that hung unevenly over her frame, its hem damp and muddied from the streets. Beneath it, a simple grey dress fitted her modestly, cinched at the waist with a cracked but sturdy belt. A brass locket hung around her neck, glinting faintly when she shifted. Though practical and well-worn, her boots carried scuffs deep enough that you questioned if the dark fabric was her socks beneath.

She took a hesitant sip from her cup and looked up at you with a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Thank you, dear.”

You settled into your seat, dragging your cup across the table's woodgrain. “How can I be of assistance?”

Ms Crowley hesitated, her lips thinning into a line as she contemplated a response. You wisely decided to allow her some space, and the steaming liquid cupped in your palm suddenly became the most fascinating thing in the world. 

The older woman stumbled over her words, once, twice, thrice before finally settling on a simple, “I..I have never met a witch before.”

You smiled down into your cup, elbows resting on the table as you slowly looked up at her through a strand of loose hair that had fallen across your forehead. “I think you will find witches are alike most people you would meet—just like any stranger you would pass on the street.”

She peered across the table—as if testing your own words against you. Her tired, pale blue eyes squinting as she examined you from head to toe. “I suppose… I suppose you’re right. And I suppose I should trust you. I ‘ave been told most witches are trustworthy.”

“We are.” You state simply, only pausing to take a sip from your cup. The warm liquid fills your belly, a soft hum escaping your throat as you tilt you head in thought. “We’re salesmen, in a way, sellin’ our wares. There will always be scam artists, a few among the many, but most of us are just makin’ ends meet.”

The older woman contemplates your words. She takes a sip, a long one, then nods in affirmation. “You’re right. I should have some faith.”

“Now, Ms. Crowley, how can I help you?” You query once again.

“Well… I don’t know how this all works…”

“Just tell me what troubles you. From the start, if possible.”

Before she could speak, the door creaked open behind you, breaking the fragile quiet that had settled over the room. The sound was faint, yet it resonated through the stillness like the tolling of a distant church bell. Your breath hitched, fingers tightening around the chipped teacup as a wave of unease swept through you. The air seemed heavier, colder—an unspoken warning curling down your spine.

“Spirit-raiser.”

That voice. Gravelly, familiar. Unwelcome. You sucked in a sharp breath, though it felt as though your ribcage had suddenly shrunk two sizes too small for your organs. The bruises still present across your abdomen ached as every muscle in your body tensed, a tangled knot of shock electrifying your nerves. But beyond that, beyond the anger and disbelief, there was a feeling far more treacherous: relief.

He returned.

Your head whipped around, posture immediately straightening as though your spine was a pole made of steel. There he was—Bucky Barnes, leaning in the doorway like he owned the place, his sharp, stormy eyes swept over you, then flicked briefly to Ms. Crowley, whose face drained of colour. The woman looked ready to bolt, her hands clutching the table's edge as if it might anchor her in place. You couldn’t blame her. A woman already so anxious over the idea of magic she had positively turned green the moment she entered your flat. Now she was face to face with the dreaded Bucky Barnes, the fucking menace of the Sootstone? Many in The Warrens likely hadn’t seen the man in person, maybe at a distance, or knew him through whispered tales. You certainly hadn’t encountered the man until he came crashing into your life, smog and all. 

“Bucky,” you said, his name slipping out before you could catch it. A string of curses nearly left your tongue along with it. How bittersweet could it be that despite all the hurt you felt, you still called him by a name so familiar? Too familiar. The taste of it burned on your tongue. Your heart slammed into a furious rhythm as what could only be described as a smirk graced his lips. How could he act like he hadn’t vanished from your life without so much as a goodbye? 

How could he turn up here and act like all was well and normal?

It had hurt when he had left; yes, that was to be expected. But these past few days, he had avoided you. At least, it felt like avoidance. You hadn’t heard a word from the Smog Boys since your beating at the hand of the Iron Rats, not even a whisper on the sharp winds that rolled in from the dock. Natasha would have told him. In what world would she not have told Bucky that his pet witch had missed the summons because she was trembling, bloodied and bruised on her own floor? 

You had convinced yourself that maybe it was for the better, an escape from Becca’s wrath and escape from the Smog Boys…

“I’m busy.” The words escaped you before you could think.

He raised his brows in disbelief. Your toes curled in their boots, cringing at your own blunt tone. But then again, had he just expected everything to return to normal?

“I need’a favour.” He stepped further into the room, his boots thudding against the floorboards as he surveyed the space with casual indifference. His gait was smooth, gaze unbothered. A morbid part of you wished you could inspect his back and see the damage you caused. It didn’t seem to bother him or impede his movements.

Ms. Crowley made a small, frightened noise, her trembling hands going to her locket as though it might ward off his presence. “I—perhaps I should come back later…”

“What’re you doin’ here?” you demanded, the words sharper than you intended, cutting over Ms. Crowley’s muttering. 

“As I said, I need’a favour.”

Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, nails biting into your palms as you fought to keep your composure. 

“A favour?” you repeated, the words dripping with scepticism. “After everythin’, you show up here and ask for a favour?”

Ms. Crowley flinched at the tone of your voice, but you couldn’t stop now. Bucky’s eyes narrowed slightly, the faintest crack in his facade of nonchalance.

“Watch it,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous. “You don’t want to push me.”

“And you don’t want to push me neither, Barnes,” You shot back, planting your hands on the table. “You don’t get to leave without so much as a ‘thank you’ and then show up here, actin’ like I owe you somethin’?”

“You say that, spirit-raiser, but…” He sucked on his teeth, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he looked down at you, hands casually tucked into his jacket pockets as he sighed through his nose. “I just spent the last four days cleanin’ up your mess.”

Your brows drew inward, confusion slipping through. The entire time you had spent in misery, licking your wounds and nursing your broken heart, he had been out there defending you? 

A devilish expression crossed his face. “You really thought you could, what? Walk on over to Grimrow unnoticed while under my protection? Do you realise how long it has taken me to talk the Rat King down from marching over the Sootline and wagin’ war ‘cause of you?”

“They crossed the Sootline. They pursued me.” You rebutted, though even your voice wavered, unsure.

“Yeah.” His head tilted, eyes squinting. “You better be praisin’ whatever fuckin’ witch god you follow, 'cause that little fuck up on their end is the only reason why you’re still here playin’ good little spirit-raiser.”

You swallowed. Hard. 

“They hurt me.” You confessed, voice steadying.

“Yeah, I know. Nat told me. Good thing your pretty little face has all healed up. That’s your only fuckin’ worth to me right now after all the trouble you’ve caused.” His words stung; maybe you would’ve believed them true. But you got the sense he was being harsh for the sake of venting frustrations. He wouldn’t even catch your eye as the insults rolled off his tongue. 

For a moment, silence filled the room, thick with tension. You could feel Ms. Crowley’s gaze on you. Bucky’s jaw tightened, his posture stiffening as his eyes finally lifted and bore into yours. His expression was unreadable, a carefully laid mask to cover whatever real emotion raged behind his stormy blue eyes.

Then, to your surprise, Ms. Crowley’s feeble voice cut through the silence. 

“I-I-I should go now—”

You whirled around.

“No,” you snapped, cutting her off before she could rise. Ms. Crowley froze, wide-eyed and trembling, her teacup rattling slightly in her unsteady hands. For a brief moment, you thought Bucky might let her stay, that he’d simply loom in the corner, his presence a warning but nothing more.

But then Bucky huffed a sharp breath, irritation flashing across his face as he shrugged out of his jacket. 

“Get the fuck out,” he said bluntly, his tone leaving no room for argument, his eyes sliding to meet the older woman's as you made a noise close to a whimper. “And keep your fuckin’ mouth shut about all this.”

Her mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air, her gaze darting between the two of you. With a frightened nod, she scrambled to her feet, clutching her bag and locket close to her chest.

“Apologies. I ain’t sayin’ a thing. Not a word. I swear.” she stammered, her voice a whisper as she made a beeline for the door.

The moment the door clicked shut behind her, you turned to Bucky, a glare sharp enough to cut steel fixed on your face.

“You didn’t have to scare her off like that!” you snapped, grabbing the teacups and stalking toward the sink.

“A waste of fuckin’ time is what she was,” Bucky replied casually, his voice dripping with indifference.

“She was a client,” you shot back, setting the cups into the sink with more force than necessary. “A payin’ client. I need clients, Barnes.”

Bucky leaned against the counter, arms folded, watching you. “You’re actin’ like I don’t pay you triple what they’re offerin’.”

You dipped your hands further into the soapy water, pressing your palms flat against the metal bottom as you sighed, momentarily closing your eyes in exasperation. “You don’t get to decide who’s worth my time. This is my place. My work. You can’t just—”

“I thought Nat was exaggeratin’,” Bucky cut over you, his voice low but carrying an edge that made your stomach churn.

You stiffened, your grip on the cup tightening. “Exaggeratin’ about what?”

“About this.”

Your eyes flew open as his hand caught your chin, tilting your face toward him with an infuriating gentleness. His thumb brushed over your jaw, skimming the faint bruise that lingered there, and his eyes narrowed as they traced the fading split in your lip. A shiver raced down your spine, and you jerked your head away, pulling free of his grasp.

“It’s nothin’,” you muttered, returning to the sink.

“Don’t look like nothin’,” he countered, his tone sharp. “Let me see the rest.”

You froze, your hands hovering over the sink. “No.”

“Don’t be stubborn,” he snapped, moving closer. His voice dropped, carrying a dangerous edge. “I need to see what they did to you.”

You shook your head, your pulse roaring in your ears. “It doesn’t matter. I’m fine.”

Bucky let out a low growl of frustration, and before you could react, his hand was on your shoulder, spinning you around to face him. His other hand went to your waist, tugging at the hem of your shirt.

“Bucky, stop,” you protested, grabbing at his wrists. The soapy water made your hands slick, his skin slipping from your grasp. “This isn’t—”

“Quit fightin’ me,” he said sharply, his eyes flashing with something raw and unyielding. “I need to know.”

His words silenced you, leaving you to stare up at him in stunned disbelief. The fight drained out of you, replaced by a reluctant acceptance as you lifted your hands, a trail of water rolling down to your elbows. Your head dipped, staring down at his shoes as droplets dripped onto his boots. With a defeated sigh, you rested your palms on his chest, pressing the wet skin into his buttoned shirt until you could feel the warmth of his body. With a grunt, he tugged your blouse from where it was tucked into your shirt, ripping the fabric upward until it exposed your belly.

The air seemed to leave the room as his gaze fell on the mottled bruises that painted your abdomen, the angry purples and blues. His jaw tightened, a muscle ticking as his hand hovered over the worst of the damage, his fingers brushing against your side with an uncharacteristic hesitance.

You heard him swallow audibly, adam’s apple bobbing. A shiver ran down your spine as his thumb carefully ran up to your sternum, then across the band of your brassiere. 

“How many ribs did you break?” he asked, his voice low and rough.

You sucked in a sharp breath as the hair across your body rose on end. Tingles blossomed across your skull as his hand swept down to the waistband of your skirt, tugging it down to inspect the damage still hidden. 

“Three.”

His grunt of acknowledgement was quiet, but the tension dominating his frame was unmistakable. He stepped back abruptly, running a hand through his hair, tongue running over his bottom lip.

“Why didn’t you fight back?” The question gave you near vertigo. 

“I did.” You lie through your teeth

The gangster shook his head, hands resting on his hips as he looked down at you. 

“Bullshit. I’ve seen what you’re capable of. I’ve felt it, doll.” Your gut clenched as he half motioned towards his back. “If you wanted to fight back, they would’ve been dead long before they touched you.”

You pause. He was right. He was entirely right. You hadn’t fought back because you were what? Dejected and defeated? Too swept up in your own pity? Living in your mother's shadow? Or was it just the shadow you had created for yourself?

“You’re punishin’ yourself, aren’t ya? Hm?”

“I’m not lyin’ Barnes—” You begin to speak, voice raising as hysteria begins to bubble within you. Why was he asking you these things? Why was he pretending to care?

“Why?” He cuts over you, 

You turned away, refusing to respond. “I think you should leave now.”

He was silent for a beat. Then you heard the shuffle of clothing as he picked up his coat and swept it over his muscled shoulders. “I still need that favour.”

You sigh, an exaggerated noise as you spin to face him with a scowl. “What now? Can’t it wait?”

“You’re expected. At a meetin’.” 

“Meetin’?” You echoed.

“About what happened. With the Iron Rats.” 

“I thought you said you dealt with it—” You bite back, irritation flaring. 

“Would you just shut your fuckin’ mouth for a second and listen?” Bucky cut over you, voice raised. You clamp your mouth shut in surprise.

“It’s the Rat King.” Bucky meets your gaze. “He wants to meet you.”

—

You would have never described Bucky Barnes as nervous, but the walk to the Sootline almost had you questioning that assumption. Bucky kept his pace steady, though you noticed the subtle clench of his jaw and the occasional twitch of his hand at his side. It wasn’t the demeanour of a nervous man—no, Bucky Barnes didn’t do nervous—but something unexplainable was simmering beneath the surface.

The streets of the Warrens were quieter than usual, the normal hum of life dampened. The sun had grown low in the sky, the usual grey fog warming to a diffused orange and pink glow. The cobblestones were slick beneath your boots, liquids you wouldn’t dare identify, leaving a sheen across the ground that reflected the faint glow of lanterns. You adjusted your coat, tucking it closer against the chill, and cast a sidelong glance at Bucky. 

"Barnes, you alright?" you asked cautiously, breaking the silence. You weren’t one to pry, but the energy engulfing the gangster was strange.

“We’re late,” he muttered, his voice clipped.

You frowned, the sharpness of his tone needling at you. “Well, if you’d told me sooner than five minutes ago that I was needed—”

“And you would have come?.” His words were abrupt, cutting through your protest like a blade. “You do ‘ave a habit of ignorin’ my summons.”

Your jaw clamped shut, a heavy silence falling over the both of you. Further down the twisting, wonky street, you could see streetgoers dashing into nearby stores and homes. Above in the stacked homes that towered above the streets, faces cautiously peeked out, watching as Bucky and you marched past. You observed a group of three children ushered away by their mother, her tightly shutting the rickety window with a grim expression.

“It would be best if you kept your mouth shut during this. Only speak when spoken to. Just agree unless I say otherwise.” Bucky finally spoke, voice gruff.

“Why?” You pry, voice unsure.

“‘Cause I can’t help you if you say somethin’ stupid ‘n end up gettin’ yourself in more trouble.”

Your steps faltered, confusion flashing across your face. “Why do you suddenly care?”

His lip twitched, but he continued with his persistent gait. “You ask a lot of questions.”

“You’re scarin’ me—”

“I have a reputation to uphold, spirit-raiser. Can’t have these rats thinkin’ I’ve gone weak ’cause of some bird.”

The words landed heavily, and you bit back the sting of their dismissal. “What does your reputation got to do with me?”

His stride didn’t falter, but his gaze flicked toward you, brittle and intense. “If I can’t protect you, then what’s to say I can protect the whole of The Warrens, huh? What’s to stop them from marchin’ over the Sootline?”

“So, what’s this, then? You strikin’ a deal, handin’ me over to them, actin’ like you don’t care so they don’t think you’re weak ‘cause of some bird?”

“If I wanted you dead, you’d have been dead a long time ago.” He huffed out in an empty laugh. He stopped abruptly, turning to face you. The weight of his stare rooted you in place. “No, doll, those rats… they fucked up.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as he continued, his voice low and deliberate, every word laced with venom. “I’m gonna get them to bend the fuckin’ knee. Show them whose the real fuckin’ King around here.”

—

The Sootline River separated the two territories like a jagged scar, its sluggish current carrying the city’s filth toward the sea. On either bank, the Smog Boys and Iron Rats assembled in tense lines, a mix of swagger and unease flickering across their faces. The lanterns they carried swayed, casting fragmented shadows on the water as the sun finally slipped beyond the horizon, coating the land in creeping darkness, its coffin-like suffocation only exaggerated by the smoke and ash from the Smokestacks.

Bucky stood at the river’s edge, his posture deceptively relaxed, his hands buried in his coat pockets. His gaze locked onto the figure across the river: Varlan Crey—The Rat King. Varlan was everything Bucky wasn’t—brash, loud, and lumbering, his bulk swathed in a tattered black coat with yellow stitching. His grin was wide, but his teeth were uneven, lending him the air of a predator more accustomed to snapping than scheming. His gang flanked him, a pack of diseased rats, restless and waiting for a signal.

“Barnes,” Varlan called, his voice carrying easily across the water, gravelly and full of mock cheer. “Shame we ain’t meetin’ unda different circumstances.”

“Varlan,” Bucky replied, his tone steady, almost clipped. He didn’t move a muscle, his stance radiating a nearly unbearable calm.

Varlan cocked his head, his smirk widening. “I’m guessin’ this is the bird in question?” He nodded towards you.

You froze under his scrutiny, your skin prickling under the weight of his gaze. The air seemed colder now, and your chest tightened as though the river’s chill had seeped into your bones. 

Bucky gave a single, deliberate nod. “Yes.”

Varlan snorted softly. “A bird from The Warrens, crossing inta my territories ‘n causing a ruckus amongst my boys… you undastand how this looks bad, Barnes?”

Bucky didn’t flinch. His smooth and unhurried tone carried across the water like a blade. “I can. But it weren’t her that was causing the ruckus now, was it? I’m guessin’ these lies you’re tellin’ yourself are why you so recklessly declared war before examinin’ the facts.”

Varlan chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that made the hairs on the back of your neck rise. “Facts,” he repeated, shaking his head as though the word itself amused him. “You’re soundin’ more and more like them fancy wankers up in The Flower Districts, Barnes. Especially in those fine tailored suits a yours.”

A chorus of low laughter rumbled from the Iron Rats side of the bridge, the lines of men with their yellow handkerchiefs grinning amongst themselves. 

“Oh, I can recommend you a tailor, Crey,” Bucky said lightly, his voice laced with faint amusement. “I know one who gives discounts for friends.” 

It was now time for the Smog Boys to stir behind Bucky, muffled chuckles rippling through the crowd. A flicker of a smile ghosted across Bucky’s lips, though his gaze remained fixed on Varlan. With the subtle jab landed, Varlan bristled. His shoulders stiffened, and his smirk turned brittle. He barked a short laugh, more bark than humour.

“Well,” he said, his voice sharper now. “Let’s get to the heart of the matter, shall we?”

“Go ahead,” Bucky replied.

You glanced at him, searching for some clue about his thinking, but his expression gave away nothing. Beside you, the Smog Boys settled, hands tucked into their pockets and chests puffed out as they eyed the Iron Rats across the river. Their stillness wasn’t as practised as Bucky's. He held the type of quiet that preceded violence, the kind that made your stomach churn. As you scanned their faces, you noted how young some men were, barely out of boyhood. It might have been a cause for concern, but you knew many sought out Bucky’s leadership out of desperation. Their energy was much better placed under the guidance of someone like Bucky instead of them turning to the streets where their violence and frustration would run rampant. Regardless of their age or status, you had noticed one common theme among the Smog Boys—none were left unfed, and their clothes were always without holes. The same could not be said for other less fortunate souls who braved The Warrens alone. 

“I admit,” Varlan began, dragging out the word with a performative sigh. “That I may ‘ave been… hasty. But ya can’t blame me, not with the information I was told.”

“I guess so,” Bucky replied simply. 

Bucky’s lack of reaction agitated the larger man, a cross expression forming on his greasy face. Then his smirk returned, sly and serpentine. “Well, I am impressed by ya…little investigation. Touched a nerve, did it?”

A ripple of unease passed through you as Varlan Crey lifted his brows, head tilted to match his devious, wide-eyed expression. A subtle dig at Bucky’s involvement—or worse, his attachment to you? You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of both their gazes shift momentarily to you. 

By some miracle, Bucky didn’t react to the provocation. Instead, his voice came low and steady. “I take it you spoke with the witch?”

You felt your face react before you could steel yourself, face scrunching in confusion. Witch? What witch was Bucky referring to? He certainly wasn’t referring to you—you had never met the Rat King before, let alone spoke with him about your misdeeds of crossing into his territories. In retrospect, with the gravity of the situation weighing upon you, it was a foolish assumption to make thinking you could walk into Grimrow unimpeded or unidentified. In recent months, it seemed everyone and anyone knew who you were before you knew them. It was as if you walked your life with a ginormous red hot brand across your forehead that simply said: Bucky Barnes!

“Spoke? Yes,” Varlan said, his voice emerging in a drawl. “Come ‘ere, girl.” 

He turned slightly, and a figure emerged from the Iron Rats’ crowd.

Wanda.

Wanda.

Your chest tightened, bruising squeezing painfully. She walked forward with her usual unnerving grace, her head high, her eyes sweeping the scene before her. Her auburn locks bounced across her white dress, sheepskin draped over her shoulders to protect her from the chill. Coven garb. She was calm. Too calm. The shock of seeing her in the Church of Light clothing almost made you physically recoil. You had never seen the attire in the flesh, but you remembered how your mother had described it—white to symbolise the light and the chosen babe, the Light-bringer. Diviner. 

The voices of the past echoed those names in your mind.

Light-bringer…

Your mother had always been short in her tales, too afflicted by the trauma and illness that had ruled most of her life away from the Coven. She had only spoken of the cruelty and sickness in those temple walls. The white was purity, the end of times, the rapture… but also a symbol of their devotion. The crimson blood of their self-inflicted or sometimes forced punishments showed up best on a fresh canvas. 

How had Wanda inserted herself in your life so quickly? How long had Leofric and his coven of fucking madness been tailing you? And how had Bucky known to bring her? You glanced at him, desperate for a flicker of understanding, but his face remained devoid of emotion.

“It seems my friend, Barnes ‘ere, is obsessed with facts.” The Rat King spoke, pulling you from your confused daze. He wheezed out a laugh, a phlegm-filled cough quickly following as he spat the glob into the filthy churning Sootline.

“Go on then, girl. State the facts.” Varlan instructed with a bark.

Wanda folded her hands in front of her, her voice level and composed. “I invited her to Grimrow.”

A surprised murmur swept over the crowd.

“The Church of Light has been expanding its temple across the Sootline. I was honoured to become the Head Priestess for our new build—”

“Yeah, yeah, cut to the facts, girl.” Varlan cut over Wanda. 

The auburn woman's eyes sparked with something that could only be described as irritation, but it was only a flicker as she expertly composed herself. “I invited her over to celebrate with me, as we have been friends since childhood.”

The word friends felt like a slap. Or even better, a well-placed stab to the abdomen. Your throat tightened as you stared at her, horrified by her ease in lying. How could she say it so smoothly? So convincingly? You tried to form words, but they caught in your throat, leaving you in silence.

“You agree,” Varlan pressed, his voice breaking through your haze, “that you were invited?”

Your lips parted, but no sound came, head spinning. Finally, you forced yourself to speak. “Yes.”

Varlan’s sly eyes narrowed, assessing you. “You say you are both friends but… the bartender and my men witnessed a fight between ya both,” he said, his tone deceptively casual. “Why?”

Wanda quickly stepped in, her voice carrying a faint trace of sorrow. “I had expressed my concern. I wished she would stop workin’ for the Smog Boys out of fear for her safety.”

Varlan’s amusement flickered across his face, but you caught the subtle way his eyes darted toward Bucky. It was a jab meant to provoke. Bucky didn’t bite. He remained as unmoving as stone.

“And what do you say?” Varlan asked, turning his attention back to you.

Wanda’s eyes burned into your own, her chin lifting. You could’ve sworn you saw the ghost of a smirk across her lips as she watched you squirm. You couldn’t claim she was lying, or this elaborate fabrication would fall apart. You couldn’t gauge her motive. Was it to make you feel you owed her and the Church of Light? Was it to protect you? Plant seeds of doubt within Bucky, and make it seem like you had hidden parts of your life from him?

“She’s tellin’ the truth,” you surrender, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue.

“And do you have evidence? Of this letter sent to you to invite you?”

Your stomach dropped further, quickly scrambling to come up with a believable lie. “No… No, I burn all my old mail. I use it as kindlin’.”

“Convenient,” Varlan spat out with a slow shake of his head. “Very convenient.”

“I have evidence,” Wanda interjected smoothly, producing a rolled parchment from somewhere on her person. “It is the reply she sent me, confirmin’ the date.”

Bucky’s shoulders subtly relaxed beside you. Had he known about the lie, or was he being strung along by her games, too? Had the two spoken as well? What lies had she told him? Worst of all was the flare of jealousy in your gut—the thought of him talking with that woman, the idea of him trusting her over you—the weight of betrayal was suffocating. Wanda had gone to unimaginable lengths, forging a note in your handwriting to solidify this ruse.

“You wrote this reply?” Varlan asked, holding the parchment aloft.

“Yes.” Your tongue felt thick in your mouth.

Varlan examined the note for a long moment before nodding. “Well, seems you’re right, Barnes. My men were in the wrong. “

“So, we have an understanding now, Crey?” Bucky asked, his voice steady.

“Believe we do, Barnes,” Varlan replied. “Your woman can walk free.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, his hand flexing at his side. For a moment, he didn’t respond; his cold blue eyes locked on Varlan like a wolf sizing up its prey.

“That’s it?” Bucky asked, his voice low, dangerously calm. “She walks free, and we’re supposed to call it even?”

Varlan spread his hands in a gesture of mock generosity. “What more do you want, Barnes? She crossed into my territory. I’ve agreed to let her go, no harm done. This should be the end of it.”

Bucky let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. He glanced down at you briefly, his expression unreadable, before looking back at Varlan. “No harm done? Is that what ya think?”

“She’s standin’ here, ain’t she?” Varlan said, his tone oily, his confidence growing in the face of no immediate retaliation. “No blood spilt, no lastin’ damage. Consider this a…generous gesture from me.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, his expression hardening. Without another word, he stalked toward the bridge.

The movement drew startled murmurs from both sides.

“What’s he doin’?” one of the Iron Rats hissed, his hand twitching toward his weapon.

“Hold!” Varlan snapped. “Let him come if he wants.” There was a cool confidence to his tone, a confidence that was likely misplaced. 

“Barnes,” Varlan said, his voice rising as Bucky drew closer with deliberate, measured steps. “There ain’t no need for this. I’ve said the matter is settled.”

Bucky said nothing as he reached the other side. His hand slid into his coat, and when it emerged, he held a knife. The blade gleamed in the lantern light, its sharp edge catching the flickering flames.

The Iron Rats stiffened as if momentarily stunned and unable to make a move.

“Let’s be clear,” Bucky said quietly, his voice cutting through the tension like the edge of his blade. “You think you can cross me, threaten a woman under my protection, and walk away with a few pretty words? Is that what ya think, Crey?”

Varlan stepped back instinctively, his misplaced confidence crumbling as Bucky loomed over him. “Barnes, this is unnecessary—”

Bucky moved faster than anyone expected. His boot struck Varlan’s chest in a brutal kick, sending the Rat King sprawling onto his back. Gasps erupted from the Iron Rats, a few finally thawing out enough to jerk forward, but were quickly off-put their heroism by the crowd of Smog Boys inching across the bridge, blades drawn and faces like jackals.

At some point in the chaos, you had lost sight of Wanda, the witch disappearing into the shadows and fog like a ghost in the night.

Varlan scrambled backwards, his hands raised in a panicked gesture of surrender. “Wait! Barnes, wait!”

Bucky crouched over him, the knife hovering dangerously close to Varlan’s throat. “Ya think this is a game, Crey? Well, let’s fuckin’ play then, huh?” he spat. 

“I—I didn’t mean for any of this!” Varlan stammered, his voice high with panic. “I swear, Barnes. Please!”

“Beg,” Bucky said, his voice cold and unrelenting.

Varlan’s face twisted with humiliation, but the knife at his throat left no room for pride. Slowly, he rose to his knees, his hands still outstretched in surrender but his entire form trembling.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I was wrong. Please.”

“Louder,” Bucky demanded.

“I’m sorry!” Varlan cried, his voice cracking. “You can ‘ave the men, do what ya want with ‘em. Is that what you want? Please… just—”

Bucky gripped his balding head with a firm grip, directing Varlan’s watery, terrified eyes to look across the Sootline at you. You had a sudden epiphany, an understanding that Bucky had never been nervous. No. That strange energy, that twitchiness… it had been pure, unfiltered rage.

“Now, say sorry to her.” Bucky instructed, his voice near seething.

“I am sorry! I’m sorry for me actions. And my mens.” The Rat King cried out. Your gaze lifted to meet Bucky’s as he stared back across the Sootline at you. His grip on the man’s head tightened. “Please!”

“Bucky.” You finally spoke up, your voice soft as the breeze as it carried across the river.

As if your brief speech had broken a spell cast across the gangster, Bucky immediately straightened, his expression calm as he sheathed the knife. He reached out and patted Varlan’s head mockingly.

“Good little rat,” he murmured. “You know, I’m hostin’ a party soon. Maybe I’ll invite you, and you can dance and entertain me like the fuckin’ jester you are.”

Varlan’s humiliation was evident, his men exchanging uneasy glances. Bucky grinned wide, showing all his teeth.

“As for the men,” He said, his tone sharp as he turned to face the crowd of Iron Rats head-on. “The ones who crossed the border. Hand them over.”

Varlan hesitated for a moment, his pride still clinging stubbornly. But the weight of Bucky’s gaze, the threat of what he might do, was too much to bear. He nodded quickly, motioning to his men.

As if not wanting to anger the gangster further, the Iron Rats were quick to locate the three culprits and push them ahead, their expressions ashen with terror. Smog Boys emerged from the mist like spectres, grasping the men and dragging them across the bridge before they could escape and bolt back into the depths of Grimrow.

“Take them,” Varlan said hoarsely, his body sunken in defeat. “They’re yours.”

Bucky didn’t even look at them. He turned and crossed the bridge, hand grasping your forearm as he tugged you along. You frantically looked back, watching through the filthy haze as Varlan Crey stumbled back to his feet, cheeks burning, forehead slick with sweat. His men around him looked dejected, their beady eyes following you as you disappeared into the smog.

“Come,” Bucky uttered to you. “We have business to attend to.”

PART SEVEN

[crystalflygeo]

two long dragon tongues down your throat is better than one <3

So I was going to answer this like a normal ask just fangirling and screaming yes but then it kinda reminded me of this abandoned wip I had sitting in my docs and IT WAS TOO GOOD TO LET IT PASS.

So sorry this sat on my inbox so long csvajckwxbhaj I promise I am not ignoring :c <3 work is just killing me and also this got out of hand HAHA WHAT A SURPRISE

it was written before 4.2 dropped (maybe before 4.1 even I can't recall) so there are some little things here and there that are technically not canon anymore//hit

Neuvillette is absolutely fascinated.

The chief Justice of Fontaine has lived for many many years, seen, learned and experienced a lot of what the world has to offer, at least within the confines of his beloved hydro nation. Always a diligent man, carrying out his role and job at the court to perfection. Yet there was something he’d always… disregard.

Some more basic instincts pertaining to his true draconic nature.

He’d had enough in his plate as it was, practically managing the nation, keeping lady Furina both entertained and out of trouble, taking care of the Melusine, and a myriad of other duties in between. Truth be told, he was a tired old dragon not having much time or interest in the pursuit of a romantic companion.

So how did he end up here? Having a sample of the most sacred and valuable treasure of another dragon. Their mate.

Neuvillette is mesmerized at how your body reacts, jerking and trembling in unadulterated pleasure. Entranced a how your lips part with labored puffs and cute little sounds he didn’t know humans were capable of. High pitched whines, long drawn-out moans. Hypnotized by your eyes, usually so alert, so smart and playful… now glazed over, clouded with euphoria yet so raw and sincere in their emotions, begging him not to stop.  

And your scent… oh, the most decadent sinful scent he’d ever sensed. His pupils dilating and turning back to slits as his stare focused on your drooling pussy. His mouth dry, his fangs aching. He wanted to drown all of his senses in you.

Darkened fingers slide across your folds, a little colder than normal for a human which is why he’d always wore gloves, but you mewl appreciatively and gladly accept them. Clenching warm and wet around the digits.

And his breath catches.

“Hmmm… you’re doing so well, baobei.”

The Iudex’s eyes flicker momentarily at the other man, or should he say, other dragon. The former Geo Archon Morax, quite literally a mythical figure exuding an aura of power far greater than his current own. He is older, wiser, stronger, a deity once involved in the likes of the Archon war and the Cataclysm. In this little… exchange, Morax is certainly the dominant dragon, simply letting Neuvillette please you.

Morax holds you close to his chest, purring contently in a display of affection towards you and confidence towards the other male, as if he needed not to worry about another taking what is his. Neuvillette knows if he were to even remotely try something funny, he’d likely face the infamous wrath of the rock. Under normal circumstances, he’d find it a little insulting to be treated like this. If he had his full authority…

But these are far from normal circumstances.

And he’s currently rather… ah… enchanted by you.

“Curl your fingers towards you and pump slowly… she likes that.” Morax explains, voice deep and rich like syrup. His hands roam your shoulders and chest, massaging softly at your exposed skin while he plants kisses at your neck, occasionally nibbling of a few past marks from his own fangs.

Neuvillette does as said, experimentally, and is rewarded by a sultry moan and a buck of your hips towards him when you feel those fingers wiggle and rub at a spot deep inside you.

“Oh? Got it on your first try Chief Justice, why you may be a natural.” Morax chuckles.

The younger dragon appreciates the praise underneath the teasing lilt.

“Now, you may use your thumb to rub at that little pearl, it’s just begging for attention.” Your mate nuzzles against your cheek, his own thumbs rolling over your perked nipples. “Slowly, careful… she is very sensitive.” He adds with amusement.

He does so again, the pad of his cool finger brushing over your puffy little nub, the spark of pleasure is immediate and you toss your head back and squeal.

“Please please please…” You gasp out, breath shuddering, body trembling.

Tears gather at your eyes and roll down your cheeks, it’s so much it feels so good.

The younger dragon stops and blinks at you, his demeanor shifting suddenly. His hands slip over your thighs to you hips, as if trying to cradle you, hold you closer.

Morax’s eyes narrow if only a bit, curious but wary of Neuvillette’s sudden… protectiveness over you.

“You’re crying… have I hurt you? Are you ok?” He asks softly, attention solely on you.

Your heart could melt at that, who knew the ever serious and imposing Iudex could be so gentle? He truly reminds you of your mate sometimes.

You nod, catching your breath a moment. “I-I’m good. Feels good.” You mumble, cheeks heating up with the confession. Your body already lays bare and presented for him, in it’s most vulnerable. But to open up your feelings too… “People… cry when they’re happy too, you know?”

He seems to consider it for a moment, you can practically se the cogs turning in his head, it’s rather endearing, his brow twitches the same way Morax’s does when he’s pensive, perhaps it’s a dragon thing? “I have observed that before, yes, but why-”

“Emotions are powerful. When y-you feel… so much… you need a let out. Be it angry, sad, even happy… our tears leak out, like emotions overflowing.” You smile and shift a little, hiding your face towards the crook of your mate’s neck. “Weren’t you the one who said waters carry emotions?” You nuzzle there and Morax responds accordingly, his hands once again massaging and roaming your body, knowing you’re still pent up and the sudden stop was probably a little frustrating.

Golden fingers slide over your folds and sink in carefully, thumb circling your clit once more and you whimper. “That’s it, my love… I want you to feel good. We want you to enjoy, isn’t that right?”

Neuvillette straightens up a little to meet Morax’s gaze. Not challenging (not yet) but there is something.    

“Indeed.” He leans in to nuzzle at the other side of your neck, the soft skin there unmarked. Morax tenses his hold on you, a slight growl coming out from deep within his chest.

“Careful Chief Justice. Remember our agreement.”

“Of course. No kisses, no marks, no claiming. No strings attached.” His lavender eyes a dark purple now as he follows the soft slope of your jaw. “I wouldn’t dare break a contract with the deity that presides over them.” He chuckles. “I just want to test…”

Or rather taste. His draconic tongue laps up softly at your tears, his hands tease your nipples as if trying to get more reactions out of you and you whine, arching towards him as Morax’s hand keeps working at your core.

It’s so… intense. They are both so clear about their desires, slow and reverent, kind in their methods, but so assured in their dominance that they will get what they want.

And oh, to be desired by two dragons truly is something…

“Interesting…” He mumbles pulling back. “So sweet.”

Morax nips at your mating mark then and tilts your head to press your lips together, your mouth happily parts for him and you let out a muffled moan as that long split tongue slides down your throat. Your feet kick and your fingers claw at whatever is closer.

Half-lidded golden eyes stare down at you with satisfaction, blown with lust. A third finger sinking in on your sweet pussy, faster, your juices gushing obscenely around them.

That tongue teases and chokes you and more tears come out of your glazed eyes, eagerly caught by another one. Bodies pressed together, hands roaming, Morax’s tail curled around your ankle keeping you open, Neuvillette’s swaying after him with excitement, cool fingers pinching your nipples, massaging your breasts…

“Mmphff…!” You squeak, high pitched and tense as the pleasure tips you over the edge and your body locks up in a delicious powerful orgasm. You sob and whimper as they work you through it. Shuddering. You see stars. Can’t think only feel.   

Once it settles Morax pulls back and you melt against him, chest heaving, legs weak, muscles aching just a little, they continue to pamper you with affection and attention.

Your mate’s fingers retreat with an embarrassingly wet noise and much to your further mortification he brings them up to his face and that sinful slip tongue once again comes out this time to lick them clean.

Neuvillette stares transfixed.

You groan quietly, it’s obvious what he wants…

Morax on his part only lets out a short laugh, possessive instincts seemingly more at ease now. “Oh? Want to have a taste too? I can assure you will not be disappointed.”

Archons, the way those sharp eyes shift to you.

“O-okay…” Your voice is barely a whisper. “P-please be gentle though I j-just…”

Your breath catches in anticipation as Neuvillette’s hands rest on your inner thighs.

And then your dear mate pulls you back into a kiss.

[gor3-hound]

sneaking out of heaven

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

part one, part two

cw: 18+ content, religious guilt, sexually repressed reader, allusions to abusive parents

a/n: i'm soooo nervous about this one lmao... will be smut eventually, but part of is kinda just... setting things up, yay!! not really sure how to tag this part either, so sorry if i missed anything :// title from the waterparks song of the same name <3

word count: 1.3k words

Growing up in the church offered you the only sliver of normalcy in your childhood. Your father, the pastor, was a strict man. He'd always made his expectations of you clear, and you were not one to go against his teachings. After all, his words were the extension of the words of God, as he had made abundantly clear.

You'd never been to a public school, and living in such a small town meant you were not subjected to things that most young girls were. Your father favoured it. This way, he could ensure his daughter stayed free of temptation. That she would be safe under his watchful eye, and never stray from the teachings of God.

Still, in the Church, you felt at home. In God's eyes, all men were created equal. You felt like you had some semblance of free will, less trapped under your father's thumb. As long as you devoted your life to God, you would be safe. He would provide for you, and you'd be able to leave this town.

This did not mean you did not miss the things that most teenagers got to experience. Fiddling around with the computer your dad allowed you for home-schooling purposes and finding incognito mode was something that instantly fed into your curiosity. Your dad couldn't monitor what you were doing, and it made you feel more comfortable to explore.

You never ventured too far, of course. It was as though you felt God Himself would strike you down if you looked at something you shouldn't. No, all you did was watch teen dramas with your volume muted late at night when you knew your father was asleep. You read the subtitles as you watched, fascinated by the idea of partying and going out. Having fun. Being free.

You couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to speak with someone your own age. This town was filled with old folks, and those who had kids all seemed to decide to have them a good ten or so years before or after you were born, so you were left being the only teenager there.

As you got older, the need to spread your wings and leave the nest only grew. Your father got stricter, roped you into more church duties. Anything to keep your curious mind wandering too much.

That was until the Kennedys moved into town.

Along with them came a boy, only a few years older than you. You could feel the tension in your father's body as you stood next to him while greeting them after they attended their first Sunday Mass there.

Their son, Leon, stood behind them looking incredibly uninterested. It was as if your father could sense what the boy would do to your mind, how he'd plague your thoughts late and night when you were all alone. You shook his hand that day, and that contact alone was enough to cause your downfall.

As you lay in bed that night, you felt the devil claw his way into the corner of your mind. He made his home there, filling you with thoughts that left you weak to temptation. As wetness pooled in the gusset of your panties remembering how Leon's hand felt in yours, you sobbed.

You prayed for God's forgiveness when the thoughts subsided. Apologised profusely for even thinking about touching yourself. The next morning, your shower took twice as long. You pretended it was the heat of the summer, but you knew it was your attempt at washing the dirty thoughts from your mind.

Every Sunday, Leon was begrudgingly dragged to church by his parents. And every Sunday, you fall further and further into sin. Until one day, you can't find Leon as you gaze into the pews.

It bothers you more than it should. You should be relieved. If he had convinced his parents to allow him to avoid church, you'd be rid of your temptation. God had heard your prayers, and he had offered you a solution.

You were not so lucky.

As you leave the church, Leon is propped outside against one of the walls. He's smoking, his lips the picture of sin as they wrap around the cigarette while he takes a drag.

His gaze flicks to you, and he tosses it to the floor, stopping it out with the toe of his boot. He grabs your arm, dragging you to the side of your church despite your protests.

“I've seen you watching me.” He says bluntly, but your brain can only focus on the sound of his voice and the way his hand feels as it lingers on your arm. You blink a few times, taking longer than usual to register his words.

“I-I haven't…”

“You have been, though.” He says harshly, brows furrowing like he's ready for a fight. “Think you're better than me? I can feel you judging me, y'know. I didn't want to come to this shitty town. I know I'm not like you.”

Your expression twists into one of confusion. Judging him? If anything, you were the one that deserved to be judged. You shake your head quickly, your heart beating so hard it felt like it would come out of your chest.

“I wasn't… I was just… just curious, that's all.”

He narrows his eyes like he's trying to see if you're lying. After a moment of studying you, he seems pleased enough with your answer and releases your arm.

“Cool. Your dad just really laid it on to my parents. They won't get off my back. Thought he sent you to keep an eye on me or something.” He says with a shrug, his gaze trailing over you.

“I'm not my father.” The words come out more sharp than you intended, and you're instantly scolding yourself mentally for speaking in that way. You take in a deep breath, looking down at the floor before meeting his gaze once more.

“I was wondering if we could be friends?” You ask softly, your voice shaking with slight nerves. Your father would probably crucify you if he knew you were alone with a boy, and here you were trying to bargain more time with him.

“It's just… well, I've never been able to hang around someone my age before, and-”

“Never?” He interrupts, brows furrowing as he looks at you. A small frown tugs at his lips, and you want nothing more than to kiss it away.

You shake your head softly, embarrassment burning in your chest.

“Shit. Does your old man keep you locked up in the church basement or something?” He asks with a laugh that only grows louder when he sees how affronted you are by him cursing.

He's joking, but it's not so far from the truth. You've been tethered to this town since the day you were born, kept on a leash so tight you could feel your airwaves being restricted more and more with every tug made by your father.

“It's just… I've never left this town.” You say quietly, and just like that, Leon's expression softens.

“You don't seem so happy about that.” He replies. The look on your face confirms his suspicions, but you don't say anything in response.

“Hey, well… I'll tell you everything you want to know.” He says with a smile that makes you weak in the knees.

If God created everyone in His image, he must have put a little extra of Himself in Leon Kennedy. You're not entirely convinced you're not in the presence of an angel. Or perhaps a demon sent by the devil to lure you into a life of sin.

You brush the thoughts away quickly. Leon was a human, plain and simple. It didn't matter what he looked like. All men were created equal, you remind yourself. There was nothing wrong with talking to him.

“So we're friends?” You ask hopefully, extending a hand in hopes of making contact with his calloused palms once more.

“Yeah. Friends.”

[gabessquishytum]

The student/teacher asks have been delicious, so what about throwing some other power dynamics into it. Younger professor Dream and older “mature” student Hob. Dream who did a speed run through school and university until academia was the only place he could tolerate working vs Hob who made a life for himself with very little formal learning and is finally in a place where he has the ability to pursue more education.

Hob had thought he would find out some interesting stuff during his classes but hadn't expected to find a beautiful gem of a professor that he absolutely wanted to wreck. Dr. Endless was an undeniable expert in his field, but to Hob, he seemed dangerously sheltered from anything outside of it and socially awkward to boot. Dream may be the one in charge of schooling Hob during classes, but Hob had his own lessons planned about life in the streets and if he has his way some skills in the sheets too.

-💥

I ADORE the idea of a Dream who's practically lived his life within the physical walls of university, and the social walls of academia. He's so incredibly smart but he's like something from another world. He even dresses like it's still the 1920s. His street smarts are... non existent. In sharp contrast to Hob, who is incredibly intelligent but took his sweet time in going through the rigmarole of a traditional education. Hob is perfectly content doing his BA at 40, eyeing up the adorable young professor who doesn't seem to be able to hold a conversation outside of his field of study.

Dream finds himself completely fascinated by Hob. He wants to study him like a bug. But maybe Hob is actually the one studying him: coaxing him out into the world, teasing him into visiting concerts and nightclubs and trying out new fashions (Dream’s other students nearly scream when they see him in streetwear for the first time). Hob doesn't force him to do anything, he just has a way of getting under Dream’s skin.

(Imagine how Hob laughs when Dream lectures him about "inappropriate student-teacher relationships")

And Dream always says that Hob should be focusing on his studies, but at the end of each semester, he can't help but grade Hob’s work extremely highly. Because even if his essays aren't perfect, the way he fucks Dream over his own desk while whispering all the highlights from Dream’s latest lecture in his ear... well that certainly is worth a passing grade.

[kaybreezy3000]

Female reader Insert. Rated M for sexual content. Summary: You never know what kind of trouble you might find if you put yourself out there and speak your mind, and tonight, that kind of trouble is Five Hargreeves.

~Set post season three. (the 6-ish years later thing) Five is older, but still struggling with life and you happen to find yourself at a party with him.

~Title note: The saying 'keeping it under your hat' simply means, think it but don’t say it.

(9827 words)

~Rated Mature for sexual themes, but it's still full of other fun too so you can skip that part and pop back in at the end if you aren't into it.~ Warning for the full rated E/dirty stuff is marked with a ⚠️ then you can come back in after the next ⚠️

Warnings: explicit sexual content, rough sex, spanking, daddy kink, super mild humiliation play, and Five pretty much being the quirky, sweet, and sexy guy I like to think he is under that hat.

Under Your Hat

The living room of the apartment was packed with people, and you didn’t know most of them. If not for Lila and Diego insisting that you had to attend their baby reveal party, you would have been at home with your nose in a book.

You had become good friends with the couple since you had first met them, and it wasn’t that you didn’t want to be there. The problem was you had always been more of a wall-flower type and not one who thrived in loud crowds.

Feeling out of place and seeing your chance, you politely excused yourself from conversation you were pulled into about eyelash perms. You had nothing to add to that topic and looking around you as you escaped the group of Barbie look-alikes that enjoyed talking about all things them, you noticed that you weren’t the only one there who seemed to feel the way you did.

Diego’s brother appeared as unenthused as a person could be. He was standing there with one hand jammed in his front pant pocket as he stared at the drink in his hand with all the enthusiasm of a sloth taking a nap.

You had to smile at that.

Five Hargreeves clearly wasn’t having the time of his life, but when he unexpectedly looked up and busted you looking at him, you swore his lips tuned up just a little.

Damn.

You’d seen a few pictures of Five in the press but he was never happy in them. Now you could see that he could break hearts by deploying even the smallest smile, which apparently wasn’t something he did often because that small crack in his otherwise somber demeanor was the first you’d seen all night, and you’d know because since he arrived your eyes had felt magnetically drawn to him.

You couldn’t help it, and you could only blame that partly on all the things Diego and Lila had told you about him. Because of them, you knew all about the infamous Number Five and not just the things the public had been told. Five may have looked young again, but he was anything but a naïve college boy who was just starting out in life, and you found his story tragic but also fascinating.

You couldn’t help but admire him and how he looked in his perfectly tailored three-piece suit. All guys tended to look good when dressed to impress like he was, but somehow, he was making the look so innocently charming that it was making you feel inappropriately warm.

Shaking off the jittery feeling just his quick glance had given you, you moved over to the kitchen. The counter had two punch bowls sitting on it for guests to choose from. Selecting a scoop of the one you hadn’t tried yet; you filled your cup with the pink colored poison then continued maneuvering your way through the swarm of people.

Just as you were meandering over to a corner to hide in, Lila spotted you and called out, waving you over.

Here we go…

You had every intention of talking with them again before you left, but right then, almost their entire family were over there and…

Yeah.

You had heard about the Umbrella Academy and the Hargreeves since you were just a kid, and you loved Diego and Lila and their little boy, but that didn’t make it any less bizarre or intimidating being at such an intimate gathering with all of them. None of them looked like they did back in their glory days. Those famous kids wearing their fancy blue academy blazers and goofy shorts paired with their superhero masks were no more but to say you were still slightly awestruck was a gross understatement.

As you shyly approached, you heard Five snappily asking, “Do you have too many tabs open in your brain again, Lila?”

Lila snorted as she took you by the hand, pulling you into their fold.

“Sure, says the so-called genius who talks to himself and who's romantically involved with his hand,” she shot back, then took a second to introduce you to her verbal sparring partner since you’d already met the rest of the family when you got there.

Five’s eyes narrowed a tad as he took you in, then his expression warmed with his dimpled smile as he extended his hand and casually introduced himself.

When your skin touched his, you felt a strange spark-like sensation that left you with quick quivering aftershocks as if you’d just picked up too much static. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stifle the small squeak that came out of you from the sensation of it, and there was no mistaking the devious look in Five’s eyes over your reaction.

Then, as if he hadn’t just intentionally done something to you, with his soft looking lips still quirked up, Five looked back at Lila and coolly said, “To get back to addressing your needless concerns about what I do with my free time, of course, I am good with my hands and talking to myself. That is not news. I am a survivor and I take care of my business and always have. And further, sometimes I need an export opinion and I sure as hell won’t be getting it from any of you idiots, so just back off.”

“Urgh,” Lila protested. “There he goes again saying we are all idiots. Diego, my idiot, my love, Why did we invite him again? Oh yeah, because Five has no social life, which is exactly my point.”

Diego obviously heard her, but he continued messing around on his phone, rearranging the songs on his playlist rather than joining their argument.

Towering over everyone but looking meek as a kitten, Luther awkwardly cleared his throat. “She’s not wrong, Five. Perhaps it is time to spread your wings and fly.”

“And when did you do that again?” Five hissed. “Not until you were twenty-nine!”

Clearly you had stumbled into a conversation that wasn’t meant for your ears, but you had a pretty good idea of what they were talking about because Diego had told you that Five was very reclusive. You couldn’t really blame him for that, not with him being in an extremely complicated situation that would make starting any kind of new relationship very hard. Telling people the truth about his life would never be easy and from what you could see, most people didn’t seem interested in breaking the ice with the standoffish ex-temporal assassin anyway.

As you were mentally questioning if it was just because Five gave off the don’t fuck with me vibe, or if it was just the very little people did know of him that kept them away, Klaus reached over and squeezed Five on the arm as he said, “Don’t worry, man. I get it. We all do, it’s just-"

Five looked like he might bite his brother’s hand off if he didn’t remove it. “No, you don’t get it," he interrupted, "and I said drop it with your hippy guru therapy shit.”

Lila tisked and Five looked at her then rolled his eyes so far back that you thought they might get lost inside his head. She smacked Diego. “Hey! Back us up. Your brother is being a bore as usual and as much as much as I hate the pervy little muppet, I have had enough of his brooding.”

Totally distracted or maybe just still pretending to be, Diego slammed the rest of his drink, then went back to mouthing lyrics as he bobbed his head to the bass thumping rap music he’d just put on.

Taking a long drink of your own beverage, you mulled over what you were seeing and hearing.

Lila often spoke of Five with a distaste, but you could tell that under all her condemnation there was a fondness there built on things only they could understand. She cared about him, and the feeling had to be mutual otherwise she wouldn’t be bothering with him and Five wouldn’t have come in the door an hour ago with a huge stuffed animal for their son and an equally big gift covered in yellow and green wrapping paper for their unborn child that you were all there to honor.

Seeing as Diego was still ignoring her, and Five shut down his other two brothers, Lila tried again, which again proved that her meddling wasn’t just for the fun of fucking with him, though it seemed she was enjoying that too, especially since you’d come over.

“Five, all I am saying is, sometimes you’re the bird and sometimes you’re the statue. Stop being the statue that all the happy carefree free birds crap on,” she metaphorically explained. “You’d look better without all their shit mucking up that sour face of yours. Lighten up and maybe try hitting on someone not made of plastic.”

Your eyes popped as she looked over and grinned.

What?

Plastic? Did she mean like the Babies girls over there and their fake tits and lip fillers?

Shaking his head as he pulled a hand back through his hair, Five huffily sighed. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Dolores and I have moved on. And as much as your hairbrained logic proves my point about your questionable brain function, I’m sorry, I have to go. You’re boring me to death and my survival instincts are kicking in.”

Just like that, to your dismay, the most interesting person there started to walk away, but then Diego jumped in, holding up a finger for him to wait. He sprinted off to a closet by their front hall. When he came back a few seconds later, he dumped a fedora on his younger looking brother’s head.

“There, buddy,” Diego happily exclaimed as Five apprehensively glanced up at the brim of the gray hat. “We have been meaning to give this to you. The old guy who used to live here left a bunch of weird shit behind. It fits your grumpy grandpa style and Lila said you used to wear one just like it.”

Five took off the hat, blankly looking at it.

Verbally jabbing him even more, Lila said, “This really does complete your stick up your arse look and I am sure it will be a big hit with the ladies.”

Not sure what got into you as you watched Five’s face becoming more and more troubled, you rapidly blurted, “It’s true. I think it makes you look very sexy.”

Looking about as surprised as you over that coming out of your mouth, Five slowly placed the hat back on his head, then he proceeded to slam the rest of his drink and go back to staring at the empty cup rather than acknowledge your compliment or his family who were now conspiratorially looking between the two of you as they sniggered like a bunch of shithead schoolgirls.

Seeing as Five was choosing to withdraw even after you’d acted totally out of character and hit on him in front of everyone, Diego gently elbowed him in the side and said, “Earth to Five. Maybe you’d have better luck picking up a date if you pulled your head out of your ass and tried to be nice for once.”

Jaw working as if he was thinking very hard about something, Five’s deeply expressive eyes suddenly flipped up, meeting yours for just a moment before he looked back at Diego, and scowled. “First, it was a stick up there, and now you say it’s my head. “What’s with you weridos and things in my ass?”

They had ganged up on him, but there he was, defiantly standing there with that silly hat perched on his chocolate-colored mane while he was being all grumbly but somehow doing it while sounding more adorable and looking more handsome than anyone you had ever seen.

To add to your night of doing embarrassing things, glancing down at Five’s rather nice butt, he busted you again and so did Lila. Her snort of a laugh over your indiscretion was the moment you couldn’t hold it in anymore and you started cracking up too, almost choking on your drink when Klaus declared, “Looks like we aren’t the only ones obsessing over your cute ass, Fivey. It’s a force to be reckoned with.”

For some reason the predatory look Five was offering you only made your fit of giggles worse. His ass was very cute and he was owning that ridiculous hat and then some, and damn did he look good when he was mad.

He slowly licked his lips. That openly hungry look in his pale green eyes aimed directly at you and it made you shiver even though the temperature in the room felt like it had suddenly become volcanically warm.

Did the air just get sucked out of the room?

Your skin prickled. 

You stopped laughing and your mouth snapped shut.

Of course, this is when Lila and Diego had suddenly become engaged with a few of their guests that had just come in, and Luther was also talking with someone else, and Klaus had gotten pulled away. You were quickly feeling very out of place again. Not sure what to say, you tried to move away, but Five snatched you by the wrist as you tried to pass.

“Do you think I’m going to let you laugh at me and get away with it?” His words came out with a razor sharp edge to them, and at first you didn’t know what to say and he clearly knew he had you totally flustered based on his haughty smirk.

“I wasn’t laughing at you because of what your family was saying. I think they were being a bit harsh but it’s only because they care,” you nervously explained.

“Oh, really? Why were you laughing then?”

You swore your cheeks must have been glowing they were so hot as you answered with your partial lie. “I laughed because I think the things you say are hilarious. I love a man with a dry sense of humor.”

Five’s fingers tickled the underside of your wrist. His smile grew bigger as he flashed his perfect white teeth. “I am gathering that you’ve heard all sorts of things about me and yet you still think I am sexy? You think I am funny when I am being a dick and you evidently like looking at my ass… Is that right or did I miss something?”

He raised a brow at you.

“Er...”

After giving that very articulate answer, you figured you might as well die right then and there and Five looked no less amused by that.

The fact that he was trapping you and he was a very dangerous man hadn’t escaped your attention. The way he was looking at you and the way he was blocking your path were making that even more evident, but then he brought your hand to his mouth and threw you for a loop when he gently kissed the top of it.

You didn’t know what to say but Five didn’t seem to mind as he confidently added, “Despite the things they say about me, being good friends with your hand simply makes me aware of how to use it, and believe me, I know how to use them both and not just on myself.”

Five pulled you closer, his lips moving to your ear as he set his cup down on the small end table next to you.

“Since you seem so interested, I love to show you what I can do.” His hand tightened around yours. “To start, I could be a gentleman and save you from this party you seem to be enjoying so much. I could gallantly escort you out of here and we could get to know each other a little better, somewhere a little quieter…”

Gulp.

Did he really just say that?

Five’s smile turned sweetly innocent again and his eyes sparkled with mischief. “By that, of course I mean, I could buy you a coffee and we could take a nice friendly hand-in-hand stroll through the park, or we could do something equally as enjoyable. My attitude doesn’t have to be the only reason I yell and roll my eyes in the back of my head.”

He winked and your heart skipped a beat.

You couldn’t believe your ears. Five started to pull away.

“So? What do you think? Are you game?” he questioned.

Just then, Klaus came running through, flipping over the back of the couch before tackling Five.

“You can’t leave yet!” he yelled as Five went flying into the back of the chair behind him.

The crowd moved back but it was too late for you and the bowl of chips that went airborne.

Though smaller than his brother, Five was visibly not out matched and he could give two shits about going off on Klaus in front of everyone. Five surged at Klaus, shoving him back but Klaus leaped back up almost as fast as he took a nosedive. He launched himself again, this time frazzling Five’s hair into a fuzzy looking tangled nest but Five disappeared in a flash of blue then reappeared and nailed him in the gut with his knee. 

Klaus curled in on himself but not before snatching the gray fedora off Five’s head. Then wheezing with laughter, he smacked Five in the butt then ran away yelling something extremely mature that sounded a lot like, ‘Na-na na-na boo-boo, can’t catch me I’m the ghost whispering gingerbread man!’

You wiped a hand down your wet face and looked down at your shirt that just got splashed with the high-octane blue beverage Klaus had been holding and accidentally tossed during his ambush.

With his back to you still as he looked in the direction Klaus had run off in, Five angrily breathlessly panted, “Sometimes I really hate that asshole.”

His hands came up, threading through his messy hair, then they ran down his rumpled vest before he straightened his silk tie. He started to turn back your way saying, “The jellyfish has existed as a species for 500 million years, surviving just fine without a brain, so that gives me…” Five’s mouth stopped moving when he saw you, “-that gives me hope for- Him. Shit…” He started yanking his hair again. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

Gone was that foxy smile and the smooth talker that seemed to know just how to push all your buttons. Five was fiddling with his hands at his sides like he didn’t know what to do or say now that the moment between you had been interrupted.

Just as you were about to assure him that it was nothing and you were fine, Luther and Diego came over yelling something about them acting like children. Seeing that Five was engaged with yelling back at them, you quickly hurried off to the bathroom.

As you entered Lila and Diego’s bedroom and beelined it for their private bathroom, you couldn’t believe that had just happened or how much Five had gotten to you.

Looking down at your nearly empty drink sitting on the counter, then at your sticky face in the mirror, you laughed at yourself.

In your head, you had already convinced yourself that you were reading it all wrong. There was no way Five was hitting on you, not when there were about a million other better options of people to flirt with out there in this world, not to mention in that apartment.

You were super buzzed enough to let your eyes wander places they shouldn’t and your alcohol loosened lips said some very forward things and he was just messing with you because of it, or maybe even trying to be nice since his family had been drilling him so hard about it.

Sure… Nice wouldn’t be alluding to the things he was, but still. There was no way someone like Five Hargreeves was trying to get with someone like you.

Was there?

Out in the living room, unbeknownst to you, Five had finished telling Luther and Diego to fuck off then he broke away from the crowd.

When he reached his brother’s bedroom door and found Klaus was lying across their bed, he glared bitterly. “Someday I am going to blink you to Antarctica and leave you there.”

Klaus just laughed. “Awww, sorry about that, Lil’ brosnap. I didn’t see who you were talking to. I just thought you were bailing, and I didn’t want you to go yet.” He lazily tossed the stolen gray hat up in the air and purposely nodded towards the door next to the bed.

Glancing that way, Five could see the light pouring out from under the door.

Hearing you talking on your phone inside, he looked at Klaus, shaking an admonishing finger at him. “Thanks to you, she is probably in there calling a cab. She probably wants to get away from me and this moronic family as fast as possible!”

Just as Klaus was about to open his mouth, Five brought a finger up to his lips, wordlessly shushing him. Klaus grinned wider as he twirled the old hat on his finger.

Five came in further, and Klaus loudly whispered, “That’s it. You got this, buddy. She is so wet over your cute little old man ways. Go get her!”

Five stomped over, stealing his new hat from him, then smashed it down on his head.

“She’s wet because you spilled on her!” he snarled, while ignoring whatever else Klaus was suggesting with his dirty hand gestures.

Five silently made his way over to the bathroom door again, raising his hand to knock but paused midair and turned. “Get the fuck out!” he angrily whispered.

Looking thrilled as ever, Klaus jumped up and skipped back out to rejoin the party.

Five took a deep breath. “Here goes nothing, old man.” He quickly readjusted his hat and softly knocked on the yellowed paint covering the wooden barrier in front of him.

He’d hardly pushed on the door, but to both your surprise, the old latch gave and the next thing you knew, you were standing there, with your shirt unbuttoned halfway down and Five staring at you with wide eyes and a rapidly gaping jaw.

“Fuck,” he cursed as you clung to the washcloth you were using to clean yourself while you also clumsily tried to close your shirt, but it was too late, he’d seen your goods and his face looked absolutely stunned from the sight.

“Oh my God this is embarrassing,” you moaned as you turned around, still trying to right yourself.

You were sure Five was going to turn around and walk away and you’d never see his captivating features looking so adorably flustered ever again, but then he stepped inside.

You looked up at his reflection staring back at you through the mirror and that look of shock was replaced by something else entirely menacing.

Five appeared right behind you a second later in a flash of bluish light and you jolted in astonishment over it. You knew about his powers. He’d even given you a tiny taste of what he had inside him when you shook his hand, but you’d never seen it or felt what it was like to have a teleporter’s electrified touch tease your skin by merely flexing his strength that close to you.

Your heart raced.

“Holy shit, you scared me,” you gasped.

Five smiled.

“Sorry. I couldn’t resist.” His answer came out so close, his breath tingling the fine hairs on the back of your neck as it cascaded down, making your thighs tense with aching want.

You swallowed thickly, then said, “I thought the door was locked. I- I-ah…”

“I am glad it wasn’t.”

Through the mirror his gaze shamelessly moved down your body before meeting your questioning eyes again.

“I was going to come in here and apologize for what happened out there,” he said, his words quiet and steady, a stark contrast from the torrents of butterflies that were making it feel like you might start quivering all over from him simply being so close. “That was no way for me to treat a lady I was trying to seduce.”

So much for those butterflies staying in their net.

“Wha-what?” you stammered.

“I may look like I am doing nothing while I am awkwardly trying to navigate social situations like this, but in my head, I have been quite busy. The last hour I have been trying to figure out how to approach you. I came to drop off my gifts, but you are the reason I stayed this long.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” he laughed, and you felt the back of his wool pants brush against your leg. “And it turns out Lila wasn’t wrong this time,” he furthered. “I heard so many things about you, but nothing could prepare me for your timeless beauty, or how your mouth moves without your consent because then I get to hear your unfiltered thoughts while your cheeks become as pink as your kissable looking lips.” His eyes lowered to those lips. “In my last relationship one could say I got lost inside my own head, so I am not good at this kind of thing, and I appreciate your candor. If you hadn’t said what you did, I would have never had the balls to speak to you.”

The points of his shoes moved into view next to yours.

“You made it easy for me and the math is really simple. First, add the bed, then subtract the clothes, and hope we don’t multiply. That’s how this is supposed to go, right?”

You rapidly blinked.

“I am just kidding…well, sort of,” he teased. “I know this is fast but speaking of honesty and saying what’s on your mind. I am dying to kiss you. Can I?” he softly questioned.

Without even thinking you whispered back a yes.

Five’s arm began to slip around you and his warm lips hit your shoulder. This was not the kiss you were expecting, but then again, you weren’t facing him and nothing about Five was what you were expecting.

“Do you like this?” he asked against your neck while you fell back into him.

“I do,” you quietly replied as Five applied a barrage of super soft kisses from behind and he tightened his hold.

Not letting up on his affections, he continued tickling you with his lips as the thrum of the song that had just come on rattled the walls in the tiny bathroom.

Was this happening?

Thinking nothing other than you didn’t want this to stop, your hands came up, reaching behind you as your fingertips slid along the crown of Five’s hat, lightly holding him to you.

For someone that supposedly didn’t get out much or date, you were thinking that Five was very good at this seduction thing. Then his hands at your waist loosened and your eyes flit back open the moment his magical lips detached from your skin.

He was watching you with a peculiar sort of expression. You were not sure what you were seeing. You could almost imagine his clever green eyes, slightly more crinkled in the corners, and his sharp jaw, all still the same but different as he aged and someday again became the person he was on the inside.

He was a contradiction of outward behavior and his young face under that old man’s hat had you wanting him in ways that were all sorts of wrong.

“You really do like this hat, don’t you?” he teased as your fingers latched onto the brim again then moved down to the silky ends of his hair that was flipped out boyishly behind his ears.

“I do,” you admitted as you ran your fingernails into his scalp.

⚠️(naughty part starting)

Five let out the sweetest sound of joy over the feel of you touching him, then his body pressed up behind you and you immediately felt the heat of his arousal pressed between your butt cheeks.

Your brain did a somersault, and your mouth went off again. “I mean, I was going to say that- Ah… That you look very nice one way or another, hat or no hat. I should have clarified out there but then I felt stupid for saying anything and then I got all wet and…”

Totally losing your mind and your confidence, you dropped your hands in front of you again, twisting them anxiously.

Five’s smile deepened. “For starters, I had been thinking of grabbing coffee and taking you on a get to know you better date, but now with you writhing your beautiful body all over me, you’ve got me thinking I need to get you even more wet before we can get out of here and do that. Will you let me touch you a little more?” he calmly replied, his eyes never leaving yours as he slowly slid his hands over the planes of your stomach, then down over the curves of your waist where he took your hands under his and brought them between your legs.

It felt like you were having an outer body experience.

When you didn’t answer, Five started to pull away and you reactively laced your fingers between his, keeping him attached to you as your body melted back into his like you were two puzzle pieces always meant to be put together.

As you slowly moved your hand in his over your need, there was no denying that you wanted him or that he wanted you, not with how his eyes blithely closed and reopened just as hypnotically as his uttered wishes rolled off his tongue. “Will you let me pleasure you, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart?

You whimpered and closed your own eyes to another one of his feather light kisses moving along your throat.

Five nuzzled his face against your skin, humming in appreciation as he brushed your hair aside and ran his lips over every inch of you that he could get at. The shell of your ear was captured between his lips, his teeth running along the length.

Unwilling and unable to stop this anymore than Five was, you snuck a hand behind you, giving his belt a tug so he poked you from behind hard enough to make your smile brighten with renewed confidence.

Thinking of his impressive erection and the scandal over the fact that the bathroom door was still cracked open, you started to rub your ass back into him very deliberately.

“Oh, fuck, the things I want to do to your sweet ass,” he huskily breathed as his fingers dug into your hips almost painfully.

“Do it then,” you challenged.

“I am going to make it impossible for you to forget me. You’ll be ruined for anyone else when I’m done with you,” Five darkly warned.

“I am not scared,” you purred back, and to that, Five gave a quick huff of a laugh and a not so soft nip on your shoulder in reprimand for your white lie. “It’s okay if you are scared. You’d be foolish not to be.”

After that matter of fact comment, Five contentedly sucked on your earlobe as his hands slid down your thighs, kneading them as he worked your skirt up.

Your barely contained sighs as you repeatedly drove your bottom back against his dick were letting him know you weren’t deterred by his warning, but to your dismay, Five abruptly pulled away again.

Almost right away your mouth opened with a flood of complaints.

“No, Five! Come back!” You had just whined so pathetically that you instantly wanted to hide your face but Five wouldn’t let you. His hand came up, forcing your chin back up so you had to look at him.

Looking happy as ever, Five then nudged his new hat up just a little, making him look even more unbelievably attractive now that it was sitting crooked. "Damn. You’re already a fluttering mess for me,” he said followed by a quick laugh. “You want daddy to do very bad things to you, don’t you, naughty girl.”

“No, I don’t!” you shot back and Five smirked even more at your fake look of indignation.

“Beg for it,” he commanded.

Of course, to that, you said nothing and tried to lay it on thicker, sulking even more as you carefully worked your ass back along his shaft despite his lame attempt to hold you off.

“Admit that you have been undressing me with your eyes ever since I walked in the door,” he taunted.

“I was not.”

“You are begging to be punished for these blatant lies,” he coarsely breathed against the back of your neck as he aggressively kneaded his palm over your bottom.

Undeterred by your refusal to give in, Five began urging you to lean over with one of his hands pushing down on your upper back. When you obediently did as he wished, he pulled his hand off you, bringing it back only a second later with a burning slap delivered to your left ass cheek.

Eyes peeled wide, you looked back at him through the mirror, pretending to be appalled, but you cracked quickly enough, smiling back cheekily as you said, “Uh-oh, looks like daddy is mad at me."

At first Five looked surprised by what you'd said but then just as quickly, he pursed his lips and shrugged. “I’m not mad, sweetheart, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be consequences for you not confessing how much you want me to fuck you. Almost from the start I knew there was a very bad girl hiding underneath that coy smile of yours.”

Five gave your ass cheek another swift spank. This time it was harder, the blooming sting hitting you both where his hand had just been and between your legs where the fresh flood of your desire leaked hotly onto your panties.

“You’re a dirty girl who wants daddy to fuck you hard. Say it.”

You didn’t, so he did it again. As Five’s hand made contact your body reactively dropped lower and your head thunked against the countertop as a soft moan of desperation crawled out of your mouth.

“You can hardly contain yourself,” Five mocked as he fingers lightly traveled from behind then down over your underwear. As he felt the moist heat he’d caused, Five let out the most filthy sound of approval.

He had called it. You may be a closeted naughty girl but Five Hargreeves was evidently not all he appeared to be either and not in the way you thought.

Flipping your hair and angling your head up, you breathlessly licked the drool from your lips then said, “I can take whatever you’ve got. Give me more if you think you’ve got it in you.” To add to that, one of your high heels lifted and rubbed against Five’s ankle.

Seeming to mentally pause over your comment that was meant to provoke him, Five massaged his hand over the spot he’d just slapped. With the blood raised to the surface of your skin, it almost felt like too much with him just doing that but somehow, compared to you, he still looked mostly unmoved.

You were quickly realizing that Five could be unbelievably tender, but something in him craved submission, which was fine by you but you knew there was only so long before someone came in there and this titillating game of foreplay couldn’t last forever.

Probably realizing the same thing, pulling you back upright, Five leaned into your ear again. “Don’t worry, I got it in me, honey. I am just waiting to hear the right words,” he assured, as he gave your side a fresh tickle while also letting his fingers on his other hand mosey inside your slightly open blouse.

Five’s fingers grazed your round mounds of flesh that were already moving up and down heavily thanks to the coil of need inside you that was building to a point it felt like it could burst at any moment. As his fingers threaded along your nipples another kittenish sigh filled the small room.

“Ah, fuck, I wanted you from the moment I saw you,” you frantically moaned. “Please fuck me, Five.”

Just as something slammed into the wall from the other side, you noticed that for the first time Five looked hesitant, but then his breath tensely pulled in and he said, “Fuck it.” He cocked his head at you and grinned. “Hold on tight. I’m not stopping until you’re crying out my name.”

Right then, the 80’s pop song playing ended and a more club type of music started to play, thumping bass through the speakers in the living room loud enough to shake the floor under your feet.

All at once, you lifted your body and grasped the back of Five’s neck as you pulled his face against yours. Trying your best to kiss him, you rolled your body against his to the beat.

He smelled so good, something between fresh air and a spicy rich scent you couldn’t name. His body molded to yours as you moved together in a way you knew someone as reserved as him wouldn’t be doing if you were doing this dance in front of everyone else.

Five rapidly rewarded your efforts to get more of him with his own frantic kisses moving along your jaw as you began massaging your fingers through his soft hair. With his chin, Five worked your collar down while he pushed his hips into you, undulating them to the music.

While he had you occupied with his gyrating dance moves, he shoved his foot back, kicking the bathroom door closed. No sooner was that done, than he had one hand lifting the hem of your skirt again so he could slide it inside the front of your underwear.

Your breath hitched as your body twisted from the abrupt contact of his diligently circling fingers.

His words buzzed in between kisses and him humping your ass.“Do you want to dance with me, or fuck me, sweetheart?” 

You gave him the only answer you could because it was true. “Both”

Pushing him along, you leaned over and gripped the counter in a way that you knew would look very encouraging.

Five kept close, moving right along with you, fingering you with his arm around your front, but he also started tearing at his belt with his other hand, opening it and his pants as fast as he possibly could. Once freed, his pants fell to the floor, the metal of his belt hitting the tiles with a sharp clank.

With that done, Five yanked your underwear down and out of the way. Though you were being dominated by his brilliant finger fucking, you managed to shimmy the lace down the rest of the way, kicking out of the tiny garment once it hit your heels.

No sooner had you done that than Five brought his slicked fingers around your backside, and with no word of warning, he moved two fingers inside you from the back. Just as fast, you were making the most scandalous sounds of consent over the forceful act and how perfectly he was hooking his fingers.

To make it all the better, you could hear Five angrily fisting his erection as he grated out his next words. “I need to be inside you, right now. Just like this. Is that okay?”

To answer his question, you bent just a bit more, inviting him to take what he wanted. Five dipped forward rubbing the tip of dick between your cheeks. The precum seeping out of him brushed down your entire crack as if to scramble your brain even more with the question of which hole he had meant when he said, 'just like this' and 'is this okay.'

The angle was perfect for both one way or another, the counter height just right, and you could even see his beautiful face in the mirror in front of you. Now all he needed to do was take what was already his no matter how he decided to take it. You didn’t care anymore, that was how much this man had broken you.

Only letting out a small noise of complaint when he removed his fingers from inside you, Five was quick to replace them. Shuffling closer with his pants around his polished shoes, and one hand on your hip, Five slid the heavy tip of his cock across your swollen folds.

You tensed slightly when he began pushing inside.

Feeling that, Five’s throat hummed with something pained sounding and he slowed himself.

Your body fought against his as he gradually sunk deeper, everything feeling more intense with him taking you from behind. Your soft sighs as he continued penetrating you were each met with his own hissing curses.

“This feels… Fffff- Oh fuck you feel so good,” he spat.

His praise wasn’t coming out very eloquent compared to his normally more well thought out orations, but considering it felt like he just drove his dick all the way through to your belly button, that was apparently all he had, and you could hardly speak a single syllable or a vowel any better to explain what you were feeling.

Once fully encircled by your heat, while you were lost in how deep he was, Five wasted no time jerking your hips back to him so he could bury himself all over again.

That time he bottomed out on one shove.

“Aaahh-ffffmmm!” you loudly moaned as your hands searched for purchase on the smooth countertop and several bottles of toiletries tipped and rolled into the sink.

“Fuck me. I think my dick just entered the gates of Heaven on Earth,” Five groaned, and you couldn’t help but shakily laugh at that and the completely wrecked face he was making.

Also feeling lightheaded with lust, peering up at him through the mirror, you gave him something else to think about. “I knew my tight pussy would ruin you for anyone else…honey.”

Looking all at once shaken by your garish comment that mimicked his, Five then shocked you when his grip loosened on your waist and his hand reconnected with your ass so hard your legs nearly gave out.

“Such a bad girl,” he growled back with his nostrils flaring but he looked so fucking hot in his near manic state that it and his debasing treatment only made you even more lost in the insanity of the moment and painfully delicious pleasure he was giving you.

“Oh, yes, da-ddy…please, just like that, doh-don’t st-op,” you loudly pleaded with him to keep fucking you just like he was, all the while hoping the music was enough to prevent anyone hearing your sputtered cries.

And just like he’d said, Five didn’t stop.

He slapped and groped, again and again as his cock moved in and out with a carefully calculated cadence. You buried your head against your arm to stifle your moans. Just the sound of his hips thwacking against your butt each time he threw his cock into you was enough to make it feel like you’d lost touch with reality.

Your eyes crashed closed as everything around you disappeared but you and him.

Five reached around your waist so he could play with your clit again and almost instantly, your legs started trembling and that only made him work his hand harder.

“Ffffffff-iiiive!”

His breath hitched with each determined thrust as he disjointedly said, “That’s- Right. Say. My. Name!”

"Oh, fuck yes, Five! Ffffuucc-" Your words were cut off by another obscene sounding whimper.

You were about to double over. The blessing of warmth crashed down around you, your entire body feeling like it could burst as you fell over the edge with pulsing waves of pleasure.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” you breathed in-between Five’s cock sliding in and out of you as your ass continued to get wildly bounced off his powerful hips.

Having taken care of you, Five withdrew his fingers from between your legs, then he gripped you by the hair tugging you up.

Even though you could hardly stand, let alone think straight as your body continued to spasm around his cock, you swiftly complied, angling your head back, as you arched your body against his punishing hold.

This new angle changed things up dramatically and not in a bad way. Five’s cock was filling you, the rounded tip sliding in and out and catching just right. You held your breath as you savored the feeling of him taking complete control of your body.

Your droopy eyes could hardly stay open but every time you tried to close them, Five would tug your hair. “Look at me,” he demanded.

He all but lifted your weight off the floor so he could angle his hips up and down even more, which quickly had you shuddering all over again and showering him with dizzying rambles of praise.

“You are so- So…fuck-ing amazing, Ffff-ivvve. Fu-ah-ah-kkkkk!”

He grunted his agreement, then let go of your waist as he started feverishly trying to get his hands on your breasts. Frustrated that your shirt was preventing him from getting at all of you, he suddenly ripped it the rest of the way open. The buttons flew everywhere, but neither of you so much as flinched as they scattered around your feet.

Having got what he wanted, Five kept at it, fervently grinding myself up against your ass as he massaged and pinched your nipples with his hands shoved under the cups of your bra.

Watching your reflections in the mirror, his darkened eyes felt like they could see right through to your soul. Speaking softly next to your ear, he spoke his next words between low bitten off groans. “I’m not- Stopping. Until you- Ca-um again.”

Even though you had not objected, that didn't prevent Five from digging in the sharp points of his teeth into your shoulder until you breathed the word please, over and over.

Even having just climaxed twice already, and without his hand stimulating your clit, you were close again. You started to shake, your legs turning to jelly with each violent jolt of his hips.

Not sure if you could stay on your feet, you tried to reach for the counter, but Five wouldn’t let you go. He kept at it, tightly detaining you so he could keep plowing into you from behind.

The second you were lost in orgasmic bliss again, he gave in, finally seeking his own release, and it only took a moment more for him to find it.

Five let out a vibration of hummed contentment that danced softly along your neck. He sounded as beautiful as he looked as his cock throbbed and his hot seed filled you, then started to drip down your legs and onto the floor. His thighs kept flexing as he shoved his entire length in and out but his hips gradually lost rhythm.

⚠️(naughty part end)

In between labored breaths Five was doing his best to pepper your shoulders with kisses, though it was sweetly sloppy compared to the way he’d been making a study of treasuring you before.

Despite Five’s seemingly heartless and self-absorbed ways, you were totally falling for this and that was because he was anything but that person he tried to make others see. Five was extremely attentive and loving and you were thinking about that truth when you realized the bass thumping music had been turned way down.

Footsteps were loudly clomping down the hallway leading to the master bedroom.

Your eyes darted towards the door.

Luther called out, “They aren’t in here!”

Not even a half a second later, while a very dazed Five was still slowly undulating his hips and lethargically clinging to you, the door burst open.

“AHHH!” Luther loudly cried.

Both his hands flew up covering his eyes like it would somehow change what he’d just seen.

“So not cool! I- I just saw your bare ass, Five!" he rambled, his jaw opening and closing, the noises coming out, but he couldn’t come up with anything else coherent until he stammered, “We didn’t know where you guys went. We thought maybe something was wrong.”

“Klaus knew where the hell we were,” Five quickly shot back, then languidly kissed your neck where he’d bitten it numerous times, then he looked at his brother in the mirror and much more calmly added, “Luther…shut-the-door.”

Trying to listen to his older but younger looking brother, Luther dropped one hand and blindly started searching for the door. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to open the door,” he repeated as he failed to find the knob because he wasn’t letting himself see more than the floor right at his feet.

He appeared to be too scared to step inside to reach for it.

Carefully slipping his length out of you, Five flipped your skirt down, then he reached for his own pants and underwear, pulling them both back up. He didn’t waste time zipping up or fastening his belt because he’d suddenly found it more important to find something to cover your destroyed shirt; the one you were now forced to hold shut manually.

You didn’t even have your underwear. They were over just in front of the door by Luther’s feet, which was probably also why he was too stunned to move. At least you were mostly covered; your bra hid most everything explicit from his eyes, and Five’s body collapsing into yours had covered the rest. Now everything was mostly put away, so you weren’t sure what Luther was freaking out about or hiding from.

Five took a towel from the shelf next to the shower and handed it to you. At that point, you could have cared less one way or another if you had it, but you took it and beamed back at Five, wiping up the mess he’d made of you while also trying not to crack up at the stern look he was giving you for not covering your boobs.

He mouthed for you to cover yourself and you tried not to laugh at how serious he was trying to sound while saying it but it was a total failure and you laughed anyway.

While unfolding the towel in front of your tattered shirt you said, “Well, now I am both wet and super sticky and my chances of finding anyone as amazing as you are destroyed. I guess you accomplished all your goals, Five. I am absolutely ruined.”

Luther glanced out from under his hand for about half a second and Five raised one of his dark brows and the smile he was trying to hold back came out in full.

“Is- Is everything okay?” his brother questioned. Luther looked thoroughly appalled. The poor guy didn’t seem to know how to process this.

When he didn’t leave, and seemed to be waiting for confirmation that everything was fine, Five sighed and smacked his hand away from his eyes, offering him a cavalier looking grin as he said, “Luther, the lock is broken so it wasn’t your fault the door opened when you touched it, and I am a grown-up just like you, and as such, I have needs, which is why I just got my fuck on in Diego and Lila’s shitty bathroom. I would have thought what you saw cleared up any questions you had about what is going on in here, but just in case it didn’t, take a good look at the hard-on I’m still sporting. Turns out, I finally met a real, non-plastic girl that already knows what kind of man I am, and for some reason she likes me anyway. I am smitten with her, and I don’t care who knows it. Now get the fuck out!”

After Five read Luther the riot act, Klaus sauntered in, joining the party. He whistled loudly as he strolled around the doorframe, grinning at you both like an idiot.

“Ye-ah buddy, way to go, Fivey!” he cheered. “You know what they say, carpe diem and all that shit!”

Seeing as Five was not willing to hit up his high five, Klaus waved at you as if you weren’t already aware he was there.

You waved back, feeling your face getting hotter.

“Did Fivey thoroughly plunder you or do you guys need a few more minutes to finish?” he questioned with his eyes moving from yours, down to the front of Five’s pants. “I see Five is still a go in that department, so I suppose we can put off the party games a bit longer if need be.”

Five still hadn't covered himself and the prominent boner he’d already mentioned was still making its glorious presence known. Like out in the living room, realizing he wasn’t going to back down, you said, “No worries. I think I’m thoroughly plundered for the time being, and I’m pretty sure your brother is just still riled up. We will be right out.”

Klaus bit his bottom lip as he nudged Luther. “Our little psycho is finally growing up. Can you believe it?” Klaus’s voice cracked as he pretended to choke up. He even added some fake sniffles and wiped his eyes. There were tears in them, but that was only because he was trying so hard to hold back his laughter.

To take your bathroom post sex chit chat even further down the pisser, you were then graced with both Diego and Lila coming in.

Seemingly unfazed by the bizarre scene before him, Diego took one look at you and then at Five’s open pants and barked, “Come on assholes, put some clothes on. The party isn’t over yet!"

Lila’s grin grew bigger by the second as her eyes flitted from Five’s crotch to you standing behind him. Feeling the need to step in again, you startled Five when your hands slide around his waist.

“Woah! Hi, there,” he cutely gasped, which made both Lila and Klaus laugh. Poor Luther still looked mortified and wasn't at the laughing part yet.

“Just hold still,” you warned as Five got all squirmy when you blew air across the light sheen of sweat heating his neck. “I think you’re scaring the big guy, with your big scary trouser snake.”

Giving Five a pat on his butt for good measure, you pressed yourself tighter to his back side while putting him back to rights, zipping him up, fixing his belt, and then tucking his shirt back in.

“There, all set.” You gave him a peck just below his ear, then smoothed your hands over the fronts of his tensed thighs as you peeked over his shoulder at your audience.

Diego’s smirk had you thinking it was just a matter of seconds before he battered Five with something that would no doubt set him off again, but then he merely chuckled and said, “You really do make that hat look good, man.”

Lila tossed you one of her old band t-shirts and gave you a wicked looking grin of approval that proved she was up to something all along, then she said, “We haven’t done the baby reveal yet but you two already know what we’re having, so if you want to get out of here, have at it.” When neither of you said anything, she added, “I still think you are prat, Five, but you deserve something good like this. Just wipe up that jizz off my floor before you go.”

Diego turned, putting an arm around her while he also tugged Klaus and Luther along with them.

Once they were out of sight, you threw the soft cotton over yourself just as Diego started yelling, and you heard their confetti cannon filled with pink glitter going off. “Now it’s really time to celebrate, people! We’re having a girl and her crazy ass Godfather just got laid for the first time!”

Totally Gobsmacked, your mouth dropped open and you stepped in front of Five. “The first time?”

“Not exactly,” Five replied, sounding slightly embarrassed. “I mentioned a woman named Dolores before… So there was that.”

Thinking of the sad look in his eyes when he had mentioned her, you hesitantly said, “Is she still…here?” You couldn't’ bring yourself to ask if she’d died but you could tell that something bad had happened.

“She’ll always be here,” Five whispered, followed by a tiny laugh and a curiously timed scratch at his temple. He looked down at the floor. “I guess my wonderful family didn’t tell you about that part.”

“No, they didn’t, but will you?”

“I will,” he replied, looking up at you with a soft smile that almost reached his eyes but not quite.

“Hey. They asked you to be the Godfather?” you questioned, trying to change the subject as you came forward and threw your arms around Five while breathing in the minty scent of his hair as he lowered his head against yours.

“They did,” he replied. “I am already their other little rugrats back up parent and I guess I didn’t screw that up yet, so they figured why not keep things simple.”

“That’s funny. They asked me to be the Godmother.”

Five let out a tired sounding sighed but you could still hear the smile on his lips. “And the plot thickens…”

A moment of silence passed, and you weren’t sure what he was waiting for. 

The door was open. 

“Is it true that you would have been willing to go out there with me?” he softly questioned. Breaking away just a little so he could look at you, Five’s smile looked so hopeful as he added, “I mean, a teleporting, cold blooded killer, with control issues, random bouts of blatant psychosis, big time issues with body dysmorphia, and a ridiculously inflated ego aren’t usually what most people look for in a boyfriend, so I get it if all you wanted from me was a few laughs and my amazing dick.”

You burst out laughing as you tilted your head up and kissed him, your lips finally coming together for the first time, face to face.

Now there was nothing between you and there was no question what your answer was.

Though Five was obviously a very complicated man, and all the freaky daddy sex god stuff aside, you felt like you were starting to understand him and that was because inside where it mattered, he was all heart.

With his hands coming to your back to keep you locked to him, Five slowly kneaded your tongue with his and it felt like you were falling into a trance from the feel of it and the sound of his peaceful breathing. That was until the world around you fell away, the floor ripping out from under your feet as your stomach free fell.

All at once, you were standing outside. The air crackled around you with the remanence of radiating blue light. Your feet were on the sidewalk, and you could make out that your back was pressed up against the dark blue 1970 corvette stingray you had seen parked outside below Diego and Lila’s living room windows.

Reluctantly breaking your kiss that Five seemed not at all in a hurry to do himself, you looked at the sweet man staring back at you with so much passion in his eyes. His smooth skin was flushed ever so slightly, and his dark hair was sticking out from under that hat in ruffled twists along his long neck.

“Are you ready for that walk in the park now?” he questioned.

You were.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading and if you've read my first series posted over on A03 and this one seemed a little familiar, it's because this one was inspired by a scene in part two of that story. It was just too fun not to turn it into a reader insert one-shot for those who aren't interested in reading 800,000 word, 3 part stories about our awesome guy. 😂👌

Link to my Five Art/Fanfic master post

Link to all my Tumblr posts

Link to visit me on A03

[intoxicated-chan]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 ༻ 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞-𝐄����𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞

(A/n) ➳ I have written this over three times as an attempt to get Daemon’s personality correct and I butchered his character... P.S, I used a High Valyrain translator. I’m not sure how correct it is but you can find it HERE.

Word Count ➳ 1.8k

Content Warnings ➳ 3rd P.O.V, alcohol use, theft, threats of violence, mentions of murder, mentions of death, mentions of war...

AWOIAF Masterlist

Daemon stepped into the Prancing Pony, slipping off his waterlogged hood to reveal his platinum blonde hair and violet eyes. It was a candlelit inn, a seemingly calm one for the night. He observed the inn a couple of hours before entering, he wanted to make sure few eyes were on him.  

But his observation of the inn did him nothing, everyone stared at him, gaining all kinds of attention. Good or bad. He kept his arm rested on his sword, making his weapon known so no one would dare.  

He approached the bar, setting his pouch of coin he stole off a drunk bystander. “A pint of strong ale.”   

The bartender eyed him before pouring his drink. Daemon handed the man the coin, taking the wooden mug in return.   

His nose scrunched at the heavy and bitter taste of the ale. Daemon could certainly hold his own when it came to drinking but this was different. He took the mug as he left the bar and made himself comfortable in a corner with a man.  

It was his contact from the last lead that led him to the Prancing Pony. “I was right to say you are not from these parts.” The man started. “You are causing trouble, drawing eyes from people you do not want to start a war with.”   

Daemon scoffed, laughing to himself. “These people are the least of my worries. I only care of the dragon people speak of.”  

But the man started to laugh, too loud for Daemon’s taste. “The dragon they only hear of is Smaug.” Yet his eyes became wide with a mixture of fascination and fear. “I’ve seen another, not as big but just as fearsome.” He murmured.  

Daemon breathed deeply, his jaw clenched as his grip tightened around his mug. “And you dare hold the information from me?”  

The man rolled his eyes. He sat back in his chair, throwing his leg over the table. “Go East of the Misty Mountains, you will find Mirkwood.” The man ignored his questions and pointed at his hair. “You will find its rider, a woman with strands of hair that match yours.” 

“Now you give me this information? At no cost?”   

“You cannot scare me, Daemon Targaryen. There are many things worse than dragon fire.”  

Daemon rushed out of the inn feeling frustrated, he was played like a fool. Another reason to despise this place.  

He pulled his hood over his head as the rain poured heavily down on him.   

He always knew his older brother was obsessed with omens and prophecies, but Daemon was able to believe in one of Visery’s dreams. a Targaryen had found their own path to safety, escaping the calamity that took their home.  

“The Targaryen dynasty will rule beyond Westeros.”  

He was stuck in his mind for hours, keeping himself busy until he found Caraxes still deep in his slumber. Daemon took a breath before he spoke softly in High Valyrian, running his hand over his long and slender neck.   

“Vēzot, Caraxes.”    

Daemon flew to the East of the Misty Mountains, it was a trip of two days, three before he found Mirkwood. A kingdom surrounded by woods, isolated from the rest of the world.   

Caraxes landed just feet away from the narrow bridge, but his neck was long enough to reach the gates where two guards stood.  

They remained still as they felt Caraxes’s hot breath and saw him bare his teeth.  

Daemon sat up tall in his saddle, he relaxed one wrist over the other. “I demand an audience with your lord!” He exclaimed. “Step aside and you shall live to go home to your families.”   

Caraxes grumbled when the guards did not move or say a word. Daemon clicked his tongue after another minute of silence. He wanted to take his brother’s words into consideration. How he must learn to control his anger, how this world was unlike Westeros. 

Talking was getting Daemon nowhere since he was met with silence. “It is a simple request that I am sure you can fulfill, I have no need to burn your kingdom but turn me away and I will.”   

But it was a failure.   

Yes, they reacted, drawing their bows, and shouting in their tongues. It was not the reaction he was hoping for...  

“You have chosen your own fates.” Caraxes pulled back and opened his jaws. “Drac-”  

Suddenly, the gates creaked open, another Legolas stood at the entrance, walking forward with his bow in hand.  

“You seek and audience with our King.” Legolas stated, looking up at Daemon with a stern expression. “But first, you must hand over your weapons. I shall not let you approach the King armed.”  

Daemon's eyes narrowed, his hand itching to draw Dark Sister and so he declared.   

“We must obey by their rules, it’s their land but it won’t be for long.”    

Dameon gave a curt nod and huffed. He dismounted Caraxes to stand before Legolas. He drew his sword along with its scabbard.  

Legolas shouted orders the guards to come forward, his eyes glued on Daemon. They came forward, taking everything out of his hands, Dark Sister, and his cloak.  

It was a bitter pill to swallow, but he knew it gained him access to Mirkwood.  

Legolas was sure there were no more weapons on him. “The King awaits.” He turned his back, walking back into the kingdom with Daemon behind him.   

He took one final glance, watching Caraxes whistle again until the gates shut.  

Daemon did not hide his amazement at the inside of Mirkwood, he made his expressions clear and kept his composure but remained carefree. He was surrounded by guards, but he walked like he owned the place as his head stayed high.    

Then, it was just Legolas walking with him, and it was not long before he was brought in front of the king.  

Thranduil sat on his throne, one leg over the other. His finger tapped the arm rest as he looked at Daemon with a lack of concern. 

“My Lord.” Daemon addressed. “It seems you’ve been expecting me.”   

Legolas took his place by Tauriel’s side. She whispered in his ear, something making him huff in anger and shaking his head.  

Thranduil stood from his throne, his hands clasped together. “Of course I have, you made yourself quite known.” He stepped down the steps. “I received word from an acquaintance, he said your dragon was like a serpent. I wondered what they called your dragon back in Westeros.”  

“You’re aware?” 

“I’m quite aware.” Thranduil responded. “You’re home called Valyria, dragons that you ride, and you Targaryens... I’m only aware of the name after her relative stepped foot on Middle-Earth with a clutch of eggs and managed to sire many offsprings.”   

“Where are they?”    

“All of them killed each other, it’s difficult to say what happened but (Y/n) appeared with said egg hatched.” Thranduil slowly circled Daemon. “I cannot speak to what happened to the rest of the clutch but now she’s here and you’re here for her.”   

“I intend to bring her home.”   

Thranduil stopped at his left side, shaking his head. “You will not take her home. She knows no other home than here, Mirkwood.”   

Daemon wanted to punch him, stab him, have him burned to death. But he knew better than to do anything disorderly. “She does not belong here. She belongs with her family, with the rest of the Targaryens.”   

Thranduil’s eyes flashed with anger as he got in his face. “I have raised her since she was a babe, she is my ward, my own. I will not allow you to disturb her home and peace.” He took a couple steps back before waving Daemon away.   

Tauriel attempted to grab his arm, but Daemon shrugged her off. “She has no place here!” He shouted. “Where is she?!”   

Thranduil walked back up to his throne, sneering at Daemon. “You have no right to demand anything for me.” He gestured for Tauriel to proceed, ignoring the threats and curses coming from Daemon, it clearly had no effect on him.   

Tauriel summoned the guards. “Hold him.” She readied her bow.    

Daemon kicked the elf in the chest, pushing him back. He twisted the other’s arm, grabbing his dagger only for Tauriel to shoot it out of his hands.   

“If you wish to keep your hands, you will come.” She held no room for argument. “īlon līs ȳzaldrīzes mērī.”  He nearly froze in place and Tauriel could see her words confusing him. But the guards grabbed hold of his arms and Tauriel pushed him to walk.   

“We must talk alone.”   

Caraxes awoke, he was curled up near the entrance, grumbling when he caught sight of Daemon surrounded. He shoved their hands off him. “My effects?” Tauriel took them from one and handed them to him.   

Tauriel nodded at the guards, dismissing them. “How did you get here?” She questioned, eyeing his armor and then his dragon.    

His dragon had a saddle too, but it was wrapped around his chest with a three headed dragon.   

“I’d care to explain but I do not.” Daemon threw on his cloak. “Yet I only care to learn where did you hear those words.”    

“There is a Targaryen here.” She confirmed in a hushed voice. “And I fear that darker things may be her future.”  

Daemon's brow furrowed. “Yet why help me?” He questioned, staring down at her.  

Tauriel’s expression softened, sadness forming on her face. “I care for (Y/n), deeply.” She confessed, her voice barely audible. “But I fear the path she is on will lead to tragedy. If there is a chance to changer her fate, I must take it.”  

“Where is she?” 

“I cannot tell you exactly where she is.” She explained. “I received word that she had left the kingdom once again without the King’s permission. But there is a nest, past the Enchanted River. (Y/n) is known to frequent that area.”  

Without another moment’s hesitation, he mounted Caraxes and took to the skies. Tauriel watched as Caraxes flew for a couple moments then descended.  

“The King will not be pleased if he learned you gave out (Y/n)’s location.” Legolas appeared, looking disappointed. “He could kill her.” 

“He will not.”  Tauriel sharply retorted. 

“How can you be so sure?” 

“I would rather (Y/n) perish happily than see her and her dragon fall on the battlefield.” 

(Y/n) drew her sword as Caraxes landed in front of her. Aegar’s upper body hovered over her as he growled at the sight of the two, stretching his wings, ready to defend her. 

Daemon dismounted Caraxes, approaching (Y/n) but stayed at a safe distance. “Nyke emagon daor māzigon naejot vīlībagon.” He said.  

“I have not come to fight.” 

Her breath hitched as her heart quickened. She continued to look back and forth, between Daemon and Caraxes. She kept a tight grip on her sword. “Who are you and why have you come?” She ordered loudly. 

“I am Daemon Targaryen.” Daemon replied. “And I have come to take you home.”  

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission. 

Taglist ➳ @mrsdurin , @marsmallow433 , @oneiratxxia10 , @sassybutclassy96 ,  

[fallingdownhell]

Hello hello hello there, good writer! I was wondering if you'd be open to writing platonic HCs for the currently playable Archons in the game. Basically, way back when during the Archon War (or in Nahida's case, some point early on when she was instated as Sumeru's new Archon) the Archon's save a baby dragon's (the reader) life.Now, centuries later, at some point following the events of the Archon quests, they encounter Dragon!reader reader- now a fully-matured dragon (Dragon is the same element as each Archon. Individually, I mean, they aren't multi-elemental). The Archon recognizes them through any number of factors (a scar in a very particular area of Dragon!Reader's body, a discolored patch of scales, etc.) And as for how they encounter each other, maybe the Archon is accompanying the Traveler on a commission, and dragon!reader saves the Traveler or Archon's ass when the situation gets dicey, maybe the Archon senses a familiar presence and investigates, perhaps paths cross and they find themselves saving (or assisting) dragon!reader yet again, or maybe it's just a chance case of the stars aligning in just the right way. Apologies for the massive word dump, just thought I'd give you some prompts in case you have trouble coming up with ideas for this, if you want to do it, or course!

That is such a cool idea! And I really appreciate the word dump, it really helped me out a great deal this time around, so thank you, kind anon<3

Characters Included: Zhongli; Venti; Nahida

Content: gender neutral! dragon! reader; platonic headcanons;

Word count: 2,2k words

I hope this comes somewhat close to what you had in mind. Hope you enjoy<3

Zhongli

Zhongli often looks back fondly at the times where he had adopted this strange baby dragon

the Archon War was a though time period, both for him and the people at his side, but having that baby to take care of by his side and teaching it all sorts of things made it somewhat bearable for him

he would often play around with it, sometimes even play fighting to show it a few moves and tricks and the dragon seemed to enjoy that a whole lot

though cuddling sessions always seemed to be the dragons favourite, especially when a certain spot under his chin was being scratched

it was a difficult spot for others to reach, seeing as it was surrounded by brown spikes, indicating your resonance with the Geo element, but seeing the happy expression on the baby's face made it worth it in the end

When the dragon later got older and grew up in Zhongli's care, it would often join him in various battles while the War still lasted

On one such battles, the dragon got hurt pretty badly in it's left eye, ultimately loosing it in the process. But it adjusted rather well to living with only half it's eyesight

Later, when the Archon war ended and peace had returned to Liyue, the dragon was all grown up now as well. And one day, without any prior indication, the dragon had just left, never to return again

Zhongli wasn't sad or anything. He understood that this is simply how nature works and he only wished the best unto his foster child

Sometimes, the Ex-Archon wonders if that dragon is still alive, but those thoughts always leave him rather quickly again. It's no use pondering about the unknown

And yet, imagine the surprise on Zhongli's face when he saw another dragon roam the sky just as he finished dealing with Azhdaha alongside the Traveller

Finding an opportunity to slip away from the group, he began traveling in the direction he saw the flying creature

it took some time, but he eventually found the dragon as it rested besides a small lake, soaking in the rays of sunshine onto it's scaled skin

fascinated by it, since dragons were a rare sight to see in this day and age, he decided to approach the creature, silently as to not startle it too much

as he got closer to the dragon, the creature soon picked up a new scent in the area and opened it's big eye, now spotting the approaching Zhongli

quickly, the creature got up and began roaring at him, and that's when Zhongli noticed a particular scar on the left eye of the dragon

Could it be... was it actually you?

Your name slipped past his lips and it made you hold in the middle of your actions. Zhongli could see the uncertainty in the dragons form, so he said your name again, staying still in his spot, only a few steps away

the dragon, still unsure, took another sniff of the surrounding air, taking in the scent of the new arrival, and suddenly, memories from its time as a baby came flooding into his mind, and you recognized the man in front of you

now seeming much calmer, you got closer to Zhongli, your long neck extending towards him so that your head was right in front of him

with a smile, the Ex-Archon extends his hand as well to scratch that certain spot under your chin, like he had always done many, many years ago

at this, the dragon closed its eye and a low grumbling sound could be heard deep within it's throat.

Zhongli almost couldn't believe it. His old friend was still alive and apparently doing pretty well for itself..

for some time, the two of them just sat down in the grass, enjoying the light of the still shining sun, while Zhongli just began talking, telling you of all the things that had happened while you were gone

And you were listening to every single one of his words, feeling happy to finally be reunited with him again..

Venti

Most people know about Dvalin - or Stormterror - and his connection to the anemo Archon. How he was one of the four winds that protected the nation of Mondstadt

but what the people did not know, is that there was a second dragon with the anemo Archon that had been taken in by him when it was only a small baby

as a result, the baby dragon has been raised both by Dvalin and the anemo Archon at the same time. While it learned typical dragon behaviour from Dvalin, Venti provided the baby other lessons important for its life ahead

the little dragon has always been a playful and adventurous one. It was getting into trouble quite frequently as a child, but such was the nature of freedom

Venti had always adored looking at this little dragon baby as he found the light green colour of your scales to be quite mesmerizing. He liked to think that the colour represented your connection with the Anemo element, and himself.

But what he found even more adorable was the little patch of white scales, right between the beginning of your legs and your hind legs. It was about the size of the palm of his hand, the colour never really coming through on that spot

While Venti and Dvalin engaged in the Archon war, you always decided to stay behind, rather enjoying the serenity that the nation of Mondstadt brought to you than to engage with bloody battles all the time

As time went on, you grew older and older, and Dvalin knew that the time would come where you would leave them behind. To find your own place within this world, without them by your side

and sure enough, one seemingly peaceful day, you went up to them one last time, seemingly telling your goodbyes with your eyes before you turned your back to them and flew off into the distant world ahead of you. Excited to see what was liying ahead, but also sad you had to leave them behind

many, many years have passed since that fateful day and a lot has happened since then. A mysterious traveller has appeared in the world of Teyvat, helping Venti to bring his old friend Dvalin back to his senses

Since that incident, Venti couldn't help but think back to the old times quite often, reminiscing of the memories all three of them shared. He would often wonder how you were doing these days, if you were well off..

on one such days, when he was laying beneath the tree at Windrise, thinking of old times, he did not notice a bunch of Abyss mages and their underlings approaching

when he did, it was already too late and he was surrounded by enemies. Though he tried fighting his way out, the number of enemies just seemed to increase, instead of decreasing

Venti began to worry and just as he was about to summon his old friend Dvalin for some help, a roar echoed from above the sky. All heads turned up as a huge creature descended downwards, instantly attacking the abyss mages and their hoards

for a second, the colourful scales made him think of a certain dragon, but he quickly shook off that feeling, concentrating on the battle at hand

it didn't take long until the enemies were dealt with, and as a moment of peace came to them, Venti turned and took in the familiar colour of light green scaling..

But.. that couldn't be, right? It surely was just a coincidence.. another dragon that just happened to have a similar colour to the one he once raised..

But, as the dragon remained on the ground, patiently looking at Venti, he couldn't shake off that feeling of familiarity

And then, the dragon turned to its side, showing Venti the undeniable truth of a missmatched patch of white scales among a sea of green..

It really was you...

Joy spread over Venti's face as he realized it really was his old friend that had come back to see him again

It didn't take long until he was on your back and you began ascending towards the sky again. Up there in the sky, with only the winds holding you back, Venti also summoned Dvalin to him to complete this reunion

Many roars sounded all throughout Mondstadt on this day as there were now two dragons roaming the skies of this nation...

Nahida

As the god of Dendro, Nahida had always liked the nature and all of its inhabitants

she would always try to sneek away to find a spot somewhere within the rainforest where she could just sit down and listen to the sounds of nature all around her

while the sages at that time did not approve of her behaviour, she continued to do so with the excuse of wanting to form a connection between her and her nation as well as it's people

one day while she was out again, she stumbled upon a tiny dragon baby. As she got closer, she noticed that the baby appeared to be hurt quite badly, yet it still backed up when she got closer, scared of her

it took some time and gentle reassuring from Nahida's side, but eventually, the small dragon let her get close, inspecting the wounds inflicted to it

deciding that she wanted to take care of it, she used her powers to build a sort of little hideout where she nurtured the dragon back to health over the course of a few weeks

while doing so, the baby dragon began trusting her more and more, until eventually, they formed a kind of bond between them

once the baby was all healed up, it didn't dissapear like Nahida thought it would. Instead, it decided to stay with her, playing around and growing up with her

every single time Nahida managed to slip out, the two of them were always together. Either laying in the grass, listening to the nature around them, or playing around and sometimes, she even helped the little dragon in learning how to fly

when they got tired, they lay together on the ground, the dragon having it's head on Nahida's lap as she carefully caressed the top of its head where the beatiful, deep green scales where less sharp than everywhere else on its body. The colour reminded her of the rainforest itself sometimes..

but what she found almost a bit more beautiful were those missmatched eyes of the dragon. One in a beautiful, piercing blue colour while the other was deep red, a stark contrast between the two

But then came the day where Nahida was whisked away by the Sages and sealed into the Sanctuary

it took hundreds of years until the traveller arrived in Sumeru and with the help of some others finally freeed Nahida of her everlasting prison

Thankful to have finally escaped, she did her best to handle everything by herself the best she could. She guided her nation into a new direction and took care of everything that the Sages had taken over

which led to her not once having left the city since she has been freeed. Though Nahida yearned to just go outside and sit in the nature again, she had obligations to take care of, that required her urgent attention

until the Traveller came around another time, insisting on her taking a break for once. In his words, all those problems would still be there once she returned from the break, but her well being was important as well, especially for her people she needed to be in good shape

so, taking him up on the offer, the Traveller, Nahida and Paimon went into the rainforest like she wanted to. While wandering around, they passed the old hideout Nahida had once built for that baby dragon

Memories flooded her mind upon seeing it and she smiled a bit, though it appeared to be a bit sad. The Traveller noticed, but before he could ask Nahida about it, they heard some rustling behind them

Weapon at the ready, the Traveller was prepared to attack should the need arise

And then, from behind some trees, a dragon emerged, eyes fixed onto them

and Nahida instantly recognized you. Not because of the deep green colour of your scales that only seemed to have become even more beautiful over the years. But because of those disscoloured eyes that she was never able to forget

you seemed to recognize her as well, showing no signs of aggression at all, which made the Traveller lower his weapon again

finally reunited again after so many years, both of you seemed happy to be within the presence of each other again

you gently pressed the tip of your nose into her face, gently blowing air into her face which made her giggle a bit. She then climbed onto your back, resting there while the now four of you continued this walk through the rainforest

And even after that, you continued to stay by Nahida's side, always there to protect her should anything ever happen to her again. You were ready to make them regret their decision if people decided to ever mess with her again...

[ask-codeearasure]

"Just make an OC!" But do you?

I used to be a fond user of "just make an OC" in the face of non-canon interpretations of characters from the Undertale Multiverse, particularly those that annoyed the piss out of me when I was younger.

But seeing as I'm older and less of a pretentious fool now, I've come to genuinely recognize the entire point of the fact that this part of the Undertale fandom is built off of the concept of the multiverse. Like it or not, there are going to be versions of characters that are so far separated from their canon counterparts that in theory they could be called an OC, or it would be easier to call them an OC and develop them from there, but no one should be pressured into doing that based off the creative preferences of a complete fucking stranger. I find that rude to encounter and I know I am not the only one who perceives it this way.

I think it would be fun to gather every canon, canon-adjacent, and fanon interpretation of a character and lock them in a room. Cause in theory they have the same or similar identity, but they are still different people, and we all know Ink would be running around like a kid at Christmas looking at them all with unfiltered fascination, just like we in the fandom should be doing as well.

Cause here's a special thing about the multiverse, or even different timelines within the same universe: They are not all meant to be the same. Their differences are the reason why so many stories are sorted as different timelines, universes, or completely separate multiverses as is just depending on the extremities of the differences that set them apart.

I am not saying there shouldn't be criticism on tropes in media, as there are things that should be chucked out the fucking window and never welcomed again (see Glitchtale, everything created by blogthegreatrouge, pervert versions of Reaper!Sans and Fell!Sans, infantilized Dream/Swap/Ink, the ableist fucking yandere trope as is (no, I'm not changing my opinion on that <3), erasing Error's hapenophobia, etc.). However, there are AUs that have interesting themes, at least in concept, that just were never explored or executed correctly because they were written by complete fucking idiots that shouldn't have had access to the internet (see Underlust).

My point is there are nuance to most of these things, and while sometimes a given work is going to be fucking terrible, that does not go for every project you absolutely abhor with no room for change. A black-and-white point of view to fuel one's contention for these things is not always going to fit a given situation. It's just counterproductive and looking through a lens like that every fucking time will result in dogshit opinions, misinformation being spread, and people getting hurt. It is no coincidence I am the one talking about this, as I used to be one of these people, and let me tell you I definitely was not a happy camper either. It's time to just drop it.

I am saying this as a massive fan of canon information, particularly canon Dreamtale and what we know from canon Underswap. I am picky and critical as all fuck with the content I consume to the point where, yes, sometimes I will get upset when I see people making Dream and Swap act as complete fucking assholes, when that is the complete opposite of what they are originally. I will get upset when misinformation is spread about their canon. And I will get upset when people claim they dislike these characters based off a false perception based on how the fandom misrepresents them, even if they don't truly understand that that's what it actually is.

Note that what I am feeling in these hypotheticals are emotions, not necessarily actions. I can be angry. I can be distraught. I can feel offended based on how my favorite comfort characters are being fucked over and slandered in a sense. What should matter out of this is how I allow myself to react. I could either commence a public screaming fit or block/mute the account that pissed me off so badly. Obviously the latter is the better option and for more reasons than my image given that if I proceeded with the former, that account could be put on the line for potential harassment. That is an outcome I dislike so much more than reading a (wrong) opinion, cause that's just... actually fucking harmful.

I hope I'm being concise with what I'm saying here.

We should be thinking a lot more instead of senselessly reacting to things we don't like. So make that fanon interpretation of whatever character. Make them into an OC or keep them as is, whatever makes you happy. Not everyone has to be happy with it, but this isn't about them. This about your personal enjoyment.

-- Sarco