#yes i choose to concentrate on this one shot

[emotionaldisaster909]

My god.

I loved this last episode so much

I didn’t even want to pause to comment and scream here

Just to fully enjoy it.

It’s perfect.

I love Xie Lian

I will fight anyone who belittles him

His emotions in the episode were portrayed so PERFECTLY🤌🏻🙏🏻😭

I couldn’t have imagined them better

He needs therapy so badly omg.

I can’t wait for the season 3

For some reason i have a good feeling about it, I think we’ll get it

y-y

I will overthrow chinese government if not. I will.

ALSO

XIE LIAN

BLUSHING OVER FAFA

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

[cregansdingdong]

ᴍᴇʀᴄʏ.

Cregan Stark x fem!reader | no use of y/n | warnings: NSFW, porn without plot, m!receiving oral, very sloppy blowjob good stuff, starts off slow but then there's some face-fucking, swearing, one *tiny* face smack (its not bad i promise), he’s gonna come in her throat for giving him attitude; yeah the gif is the perfect representation for this tbh

Hot stuff under the cut. 18+ only. I'm not responsible for the content you choose to consume. ty.

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“What was I supposed to do then? Refuse the Lord Commander?” Cregan raises a brow, head tilted up at the ceiling as his wife stood there in front of his desk, hands on her hips. “I didn’t say that, Cregan. He could’ve waited a moment rather than storm into breakfast. And for what? To report a runaway from Castle Black? He could’ve sent a raven and saved himself all the trouble. I think he just wanted a small getaway.” He barks out a laugh at her accusation. “And I think you’re spoiled. My spoiled little wife who does not like having my attention taken away.”

“And so what if I don’t?” She huffs, lips morphing into a scowl. “Especially not during meal times—you’re a busy man and breakfast is Cregan time, not Lord Stark. My time with my husband. Lord Commander Markus surely was exhausted from his journey—but the entire thing was needlessly frantic. You are not a dog he may call on the moment he prefers it.” Cregan, since the day they'd married, had been a fairly patient man. She had a southern temper, which he had to learn how to douse and maintain just as she did. That's not to say his wife wasn't capable of controlling herself—she merely didn't care how she spoke to him.

His glance is lined with warning, but she either didn't catch it or ignored it completely. He guesses the latter. “Those sorts of matters are my responsibility. Deserters must be punished by my hand, wife. That is the way of the North, which you know well by now. Refrain from comparisons.” Neither of them were backing down. “Of course that is the only thing you take away from what I'm saying.” She scoffs. “My comparison is correct. When he calls, you bark. When he arrives, you heel. Are you his Warden Wolf or his pup? Because I'm not sure I can tell the difference any—”

“Get on your knees.”

“...what?” The surprise on her face would be etched into his memory forever. “On your knees. I won’t tell you again, wife.” His voice was low in the quiet of the room; daunting, even. “Right here.” Cregan scoots his chair back from the desk, thighs spread, gray eyes unblinking as he waits. She debated walking away, but she knew better. He watched as she took a few meager steps around his desk, the hem of her gown slowly gathering on the floor. Maybe she'd pushed him too far this time. “I think you've forgotten yourself—who's wife you are.” He squeezes her chin in his large hand, pleased by her soft sound of protest. “Yes, you have.” He grunts, stopping the words from leaving her mouth. “And now, you’re going to do exactly what I tell you—when I tell you. Do you understand?”

He seemed fairly satisfied with her little nod. “Good, pup. Unlace my breeches.” His wife reaches out to fumble with the ties after only a moment, his hand releasing the grip on her flushed face. She tugs the laces with a fervor, feeling him harden under her fingertips. It didn’t take much, honestly. He murmurs something she doesn’t catch as she gently wriggles him out of the confines of his breeches, brows furrowed in concentration. “You don’t deserve my cock in your mouth yet. Kiss only. Use your tongue if you have such a lack of self-restraint. You’re good at that.” The jab was directed and shot, but the weight of him in her hand had her head spinning too fast to say anything smart in return. Her lips meet his tip with a quiet, pleased hum, her tongue dipping into the crease where his precum dribbled. 

Cregan’s reaction was immediate. “Like that…” He sighs, head tilting back, just savoring the relief. Fire thrummed in her stomach. She kisses down the underside of his cock, ignoring the tickle of the dark hair at the base of him as it brushed against her jaw.

His arms were slack on the rests, fingers twitching with every small suction of her lips on him. Kiss by kiss, he hardens fully under her hands, and lines of swears erupt from his throat like mantras. “In your mouth now, pup.” He looks down at her with hooded eyes, looking like he was trying not to smile but failing anyway. To be fair, it was Cregan. The slight quirk of his lips was upturned enough to count. She situates herself a little further between his thick thighs, resting her elbows down midway as her palms lay over his. And then she took him into her mouth.

“Fuck..” He groans, something low and sinful that brought her butterflies. It was quite the sight to see the Warden of the North melt so easily by a tongue. He wasn’t like most men sometimes—usually. This, though. He certainly was. Not much longer before he’d forget what she said to him in the first place. The thought drove her to sink deeper on him, barely able to go halfway but that was already enough to get his tip in the far end of her mouth. He curses more—although entirely unintelligible this time—and his hands lift, presumably to tangle themselves in her hair. But they don’t make it there. She might’ve been trapped there on the floor between his legs, but that didn’t mean he was going to get all that he wanted. Her nails dig hard into the back of his hands, close to the wrists, and keep them firmly planted against the armrests.

He hisses momentarily in surprise. With his thick skin, it was more likely his ego was more hurt than his hands. She bobs her head with a vengeance of her own, and he slumps in the chair with a growl, thoroughly annoyed to be held back. “I’m going…to give you…five seconds...wife. Release me.” Her nails dig harder in response, pinching the skin hard enough for him to react. Cregan’s thighs tense more under her elbows. She counted down in her mind as she was sure he was doing in his. It was absolutely worth a bit of punishment. Saliva coated his cock, the drool slithering down the underside of it enough to make it sound even more lewd. He loved it when she abandoned her manners. “Wife.” He warns again. What happened to never repeating yourself twice, husband? The thought would’ve made her laugh if it weren’t for his cock.

He bucks his hips toward her throat—on purpose, obviously—and the force of it surprises her entirely, gagging in the slightest as she loses her grip on him. His hands are snatched from under her ruthless nails, and although out of view as he clutched her cheeks together, she didn’t fail to catch the pinkish skin around the moon-shaped indentations. They would certainly leave a mark tomorrow. Cregan pushes her back from his cock, seething, and his dark eyes never leave her face. His fingers dig into her cheeks unconsciously before letting go—and as quick as they go, a warning smack makes her face turn to the side. It didn’t hurt, by any means, but it sent a thrill right down between her thighs. “If you ever hold my hands back again, I’ll fuck you so full of my seed that all of Winterfell will hear your pathetic little mewls for me to stop. Do you understand me, pup? Answer me.”

“I understand.” She relents, eyes darting from his face to his red cock, the beat of her heart following every throb of the pretty veins. His eyes narrowed at her, not entirely trusting but he’d gotten his point across. “Make me come, wife.” She didn’t need him to say another word, her lips instantly wrapping around his tip to pick up where she left off. This time, she kept her hands planted on his thighs, breathing harshly through her nose as she took more and more of his cock. Her fists clenched around his breeches tightly, her gaze flicking up at him. He was watching, panting, the last of his restraint hanging by a thread. Cregan never lasted very long in her mouth, not that either of them thought he needed to. “To the base.” He mutters, holding off the urge to fuck her throat. He wanted to see if she could do it herself first.

His wife does her best attempt three-fourths of the way—close enough for the tip of her nose to brush against the coarse hair. The feeling nearly brought him to the edge anyway, close to falling off entirely. His grunts were louder, less composed. He was getting desperate. He reaches out to grip her hair, his own strands drooping down into his line of sight. “I’m gonna come—hold your breath for me.” She does. He doesn’t waste a moment, cupping her face gently, thumbs soothing the skin of her cheeks as he starts to buck up into her mouth like he was rabid. The sound of his tip sliding almost into her throat was enough to do it. Cregan was snarling now, fucking her face with purpose as the come dribbled down her tongue and mouth. “Good girl! Good fucking girl! Taking me so well!”

Eventually, he slowed, spent and breathing heavily as she recuperated through long inhales and exhales through her nose. She was still sucking on him though, eager for every drop. Leaned back in his chair, limp like a rag doll, Cregan gave her one of his sweet, lazy smiles. “...Told you not to compare.”

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[planetpedri]

you could do one where cubarsi sees the reader as someone very serious and intelligent so he thinks he has no chance with her but in fact he does

Either way — Pau Cubarsí.

Pairing: Pau Cubarsí x Fem!Reader

Summary: Being on opposite sides of the spectrum when it came to school, you being an honors student and he just an athlete, Pau assumed there was no chance with you. Little did he know, you’d been watching him for a while.

Word count: 1.36k

Disclaimer/s: this is a highschool AU! Just fluff tho <3

A/N: oh highschool au’s you always get me sooo good

Study hall was quite possibly your favorite time of the day. All alone and focused, you couldn’t ask for anything better. Except today. Today that was ruined. You’d been assigned to a partner project and that meant study hall was no longer just for your use.

The only upside seemed to be that your partner was Pau. He was cute, you had a small crush on him for a while now. But for some reason, every time you tried to talk to him, he would just stare at you and say as little amount of words as possible. Like he couldn’t stand being in your vicinity.

Clicking your pen nervously, you impatiently wait for him to join you. Forty minutes for study hall, and he’d already waisted fifteen of that by not showing up. You were just about to take out your other textbooks and focus on other work, when he finally decided to show.

He was breathless, like he’d just ran across the school to get here. Pau slides into the seat across from you, “sorry, I forgot.” He explains through pants.

“Forgot? Are you kidding me?” With your annoyance clear, you wave him off. “Whatever, you’re here now.”

As Pau gives you a sheepish look, unpacking his supplies, you glance over the options your teacher had provided. “So… what’d you want to do? For the project I mean? We have like seventy options.”

The brunette’s eyebrows furrow as he looks at the paper you’d shoved toward him. “Uh, I don’t care.”

Is this a joke.

“You don’t care about the project or what we choose?” Your eyes narrow in his direction, eyebrows pinching together.

“No!” He says quickly, eyes widening as he sees your face contort, “I mean yes! I do care, I just, you can choose.” He’s stumbling over his words, nothing like the calm, collected athlete you imagined he was.

Amusement flickers across your face, and Pau instantly relaxes. “Okay.. jeez. We could go for a lame topic and get an easy A, or we could take our time and do something cool and ensure an A-plus.” You’re talking to yourself more than you are him, but Pau listens intently anyways.

“Whatever you want.” He shrugs, eyes flickering across your concentrative face. Your bottom lip tugs between your teeth as you reread the topics, eyebrows scrunched together as you do so.

Pau couldn’t stop the familiar tug in his stomach while watching you. You and him were so opposite, but he supposed that’s what he liked about you.

He was never that good when it came to school, just enough to keep him in sports and his parents good graces. But you.. you were top of the class, had been since primary school.

There was a problem with that though. Girls like you rarely, if ever, went for guys like him. Most of the smart kids in the school went for the other smart kids. Athletes and scholars never really intermingled. Different friend groups and everything.

He definitely had no shot.

“Pau?” You were waving your hand in front of his face, “earth to Pauu?”

He’d been so caught up in his thoughts, in staring, he hadn’t realized you were talking to him. His face burns a bright red. “Sorry, what?”

Quirking an eyebrow, you give him a weird look. “I asked if you wanted to do it on the history of our spanish football team, since that would be easy for you? I mean, you have played for them haven’t you?” There’s a hint of teasing in your words that has Pau swooning even more. You really were perfect.

“Yeah, sounds good to me.” He agrees, giving you a small smile. “You like football?”

You didn’t really want to stray away from getting work done, but it was Pau. Who were you to resist? “My dad and siblings do, i’m not very well educated on it though.” You set your pen aside, crossing your arms on the table. “So, for once, maybe someone will know more about a topic than I do!”

He laughs at that, his gummy smile making an appearance. The same smile that first caught your eyes and had him on your mind ever since.

“I guess so.” A pause, in which neither of you speak. Both wanting to continue a conversation, but neither knowing what to say.

Clearing your throat, you sit upright. “So, I guess we’ll be stuck together for a while. We should figure out when to work on this, I know you kind of have a busy schedule.. I don’t mind doing most of the work either.” You said it like you were used to it, like it was expected, and that made Pau frown.

“I mean, we could go to each other’s houses, or meet up somewhere outside of school when i’m free?” He suggests, somewhat nervous though. His fingers tap the desk, his eyes watching the movements before flickering back to you.

He watches you tuck a strand of hair behind your ears and check the time on your phone. “Yeah, that’d work.”

Now or never Pau…

“Can I get your number?” He asks quickly, going to add on that he would be needing it to contact you, but for some reason he doesn’t.

You blush, knowing why he needed it, but a small part of you that’d been waiting for him to ask that for years, couldn’t help but ache. “Yeah—yeah!” You go to dig out your phone as Pau slid his across the table for you. You exchange devices, taking his in your hands.

Quickly typing in your number and name in, you give it back to him. He hands you yours and a smile creeps onto your face.

Pau 🤗😇

“Were the emoji’s necessary?” You chuckle, looking up at his triumphant face.

“Absolutely.” He nods with full certainty, a lopsided grin on his face, turning nervous as he opens his mouth once again, “ah, you can text me whenever, like.. not just for school.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “oh? Like… in a friendly way or—“

“If you want to hang out!” He says hastily, sinking back into his seat awkwardly. “Said that too fast.” He mumbles under his breath, quiet enough that you only made out a fraction of what he said.

Fiddling with your phone, you give him a pursed lipped smile. “You want to hang out with me? Outside of school?” Doubt creeped into your mind the longer you thought about it. There was no way Pau Cubarsí was telling you he wanted to hang out with you of all people.

It’s Pau’s time to be confused. The way your face contorted, the way you asked, you sounded like you couldn’t believe he’d ask you that. “Yeah. Do you not want to or something?”

“No! No, of course I do. Uhm, I just, well i’m surprised, that’s all.” You shrug it off, “‘course i’d want to hang out with you.”

Pau feels his confidence boost back, “you’re surprised? Why..?”

Confusion bounces off both of you guys in that moment. “Well you’re like.. super popular and stuff. And we’ve like, never spoken so I just assumed you weren’t the type to be friends with me.”

The boys eyebrows tug together, his forehead creasing. “I thought you wouldn’t want to hang out with me because you’re smart and always serious and stuff.” His tongue darts out to lick his lips, a shameful flush passing across his cheeks.

Your face twists with hilarity. This was very interesting to say the least. “So we were both judging each other essentially?”

“I guess so,” Pau laughs quietly, “then i’m going to rephrase what I said earlier. Would you like to hang out, outside of school. Get coffee or watch a movie?”

“That sounds like a date.” You note, leaning forward to rest your chin in your palms. A small smile growing on your lips.

Pau feigns to think, his lips pursing ever so slightly and he mimics your movements. “Only if you want it to be.”

With a smile reaching your eyes, you nod. “I think I could get on board with that idea.”

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !

[justporo]

A Shuffle of Cards

Another shorter one-shot in which Astarion and Tav just waste an evening playing cards and drinking wine and the vampire learns he doesn't know everything about sleight of hand that there is to know - yet.

Pairing: Astarion / Fem!Tav (You) Rating: Teen (just to be sure)

(Gif from here!)

“How did you-?“ “A lady never tells.” Astarion snorted – you flipped him off. “Well, is it your card or not?”

Astarion groaned in frustration: “Yes, it is.” You grinned at him – equal parts proud of yourself and mischievously happy. Then you turned the card over so you could see which one it was. “Oh, Queen of Hearts – so fitting, don’t you think?”, you said and raised your eyebrows cheekily at the vampire. But he had no capacities for teasing – you must’ve gotten him good.

“Show me again!”, he demanded, his ruby eyes already fully concentrated on your slender hands again, brows furrowed critically. You rolled your eyes at him. “You didn’t get it the last six times I’ve done this, what makes you think this time will be different?” “Just show me again!” You breathed out in annoyance and went to shuffle the deck of cards again.

The two of you had gotten cozy in front of the fireplace in your living room while an autumn storm was roaming outside – right on the cliché fur rug, each seated with crossed legs on a pillow. You had been playing cards and emptying a bottle of red wine (“hm, rich taste with a bouquet of red berries and a hint of almond”, Astarion had said after taking his first sip – to you it tasted like good stuff to get wasted on), when you had suddenly exclaimed: “You wanna see a card trick?”

Astarion had scoffed in arrogance and waved at you sneeringly to go on, expecting child’s play. And now he was sitting there trying to figure out how you managed to get his chosen card right every damn time – for fifteen minutes straight. His hands were pressed to his knees, elbows up, while he leaned to you to watch you shuffle the deck artfully. His gaze basically bored into your fingers.

“Love, there is nothing yet to see.” “Maybe I just like to watch what those sinful fingers can do”, he smirked at you, his eyes moving from your hands to your face and grinning even more broadly. The warm orange light of the fire shone in his eyes and illuminated his face in warm tones. He looked so beautiful right then and there, you almost dropped the cards.

But no! You wouldn’t be distracted by him this time. He already almost got what he wanted from you all the time by working his charms on you because you were so desperately inclined to give him everything that would make him smile at you like this.

You unceremoniously placed the cards on the ground before you and spread them out. “Pick a card”, you said to him in an annoyed tone to demonstrate how much you weren’t affected by him making eyes at you, even though one of his soft white curls had fallen adorably onto his forehead now too.

Astarion pouted at your demeanor: “Not giving me the whole show, my sweet?” You slowly blinked at him not reacting further. “Come now, love, this is the last time, I promise”, he then said pleadingly and stretched out his hand to grab you by the neck and pull you towards him for a quick but sweet kiss.

You sighed in defeat and picked up your cards. “Alright, one last time.” You shuffled the deck once more, making the cards jump from your one hand to the other then spread them out in a neat curve with one swift movement – the space between all cards perfectly balanced. Astarion whistled in astonishment which made you look up at him. He smiled and winked at you and you blushed at him cheering you.

“Sooo, would you honour me with choosing a card, Astarion?” “Oh, I would love nothing more, darling!” He made a show of letting his fingers wander through the air above the cards before settling on a card and elegantly dragging it out. “Now, would you please look at it without showing me which one it is and memorise it well.” The vampire drew the card close to his chest and raised his eyebrows mockingly being overly secretive. He took a peek at his card then threw you a glance to make sure you weren’t trying to watch – you sat there waiting for him to be done with your mouth pressed into a line. “Alright, I memorised it”, Astarion said while keeping the card pressed to his chest, eyebrows still raised at you.

“Well then”, you replied and grabbed the remainder of the deck with another swift movement until you had them all in your hands. Then you split them in half and held them out to the vampire. “Please put your card back in.” He did as he was told while acting being hesitant about it. When he had placed the card down, you put the other half above it.

Astarion’s lips opened in anticipation and his eyes were trained on your hands again – now being completely serious about it.

He wanted a show, so you gave it to him – you artfully split the deck up again in thirds and made them whirl around your fingers with an incredible speed. You knew exactly where his card was at any given moment.

“No, no, no – this isn’t fair, love!”, Astarion exclaimed in desperation and pouted at you again, but you just stuck your tongue out at him and kept shuffling. When the vampire looked positively dizzy from watching your shenanigans you stopped and lifted up the top card with its face to Astarion. “Is this your card?”

His eyes widened in surprise then he angrily snatched the card from your hand with furrowed brows. “Yes”, he grumbled while you broke into laughter. “Which one was it?”, you asked him while you put down the remaining cards. Reluctantly, Astarion showed you the card he was clutching in his fingers. “King of Hearts”, he said still pouting.

“Uuh, what another great coincidence, don’t you think?”, you cooed at him cheerfully and slapped your hands on your knees. Astarion narrowed his eyes at you and kept brooding.

“You know”, you said while pursing your lips “because you certainly are the king of my heart.”

You saw it – you saw the light twitch at the corner of his mouth; you got him. “Just as much as you are the queen of mine, my sweet sweet darling”, he answered dramatically and grabbed his goblet of wine to down the rest of it in one go.

“You are only trying to distract me because you lost the last five rounds of cards”, he offered dryly while he licked a remaining drop of “rich, red berry” red wine of his lips. You watched, being mesmerized by the tiny gesture. “Well, is it working?”, you retorted while you kept watching his lips. Astarion noticed your staring and cocked his head: “Hmm, I don’t know might’ve worked better if your clothes had been off.” He leaned back on his hands and watched the effect of his comment unfold. You tried miserably not to blush – damn, would you ever gain some tiny shred of immunity against his charms?

You coughed and rearranged your sitting position. “I only lost because you keep cheating the entire time”, you threw his way to which he lifted a hand to his chest, so taken aback. “My, what a dire accusation. When have you ever known me to be dishonest, my love?” You threw him a single glance. He kept up his dramatic posture.

“Tell you what, you win the next game fair and square, I’ll show you how the trick works.”

“Deal, sweetheart!”, Astarion agreed happily, picked up the cards and started shuffling and dealing you each a fresh hand of cards.

Tonight no new chapter of my longer fic A Night of Song and Laughter (I honestly need a bit of a break, I lost too much sleep the last two weeks or so). But I still wanted to write something. Hope you enjoyed!

[pamwritessometimes]

Tuesday’s Gone — Chapter 4

Russell Shaw x reader

Summary: When the police does little to no help to find your missing daughter, you are forced to contact Colter Shaw. What you don’t expect is how his investigation will reveal secrets about both your past and your daughter’s, in ways you never imagined.

Warnings: missing child trope, description and mention of murder, language, crawling in a narrow vent (I’m sorry my fellow claustrophobic loves), being held captive, being kidnapped

A/N: While proofreading, I realized my subconscious was probably influenced by @zepskies ’ S.I.N.G. (Beau Arlen x reader) fic — even with the different Jackles character. So, I want to give her credit for the first part of this chapter. 🤍

Title’s based on Tuesday’s Gone by Lynyrd Skynyrd.

Catch up on Chapter 3 here

Tuesday’s Gone masterlist

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You couldn’t stop the giggles, even as Russell held you firm, your back flush against his chest, his hands pinning yours effortlessly. The whole thing was just… well, kind of hot, really.

“Y/N” he sighed for the hundredth time, clearly on the edge of his patience. “You can’t giggle your way out of an actual assault. Try to focus, will you? What would you do if I were someone else?”

“But you’re you” you teased, half-joking, half-distracted. “And anyway, self-defense is kind of pointless. We live in a safe neighborhood. Nobody’s going to lay a hand on me.”

He let out a frustrated sigh, his grip tightening slightly as he paused, clearly choosing his words carefully. “Look, sweetheart… you’re a young, attractive woman” he said finally. “It’d just make me feel better if I knew you could handle yourself if… anything happened when I’m not around.”

At the time, you had no idea what he meant by that.

“Can you hear that?” you whispered, your ears straining in mock suspense. Russell’s brows knit together as he shot you a confused look.

“Hear what?”

“Paranoid by Black Sabbath. Pretty sure it’s coming from over here,” you said, playfully poking your finger at his temple.

He deadpanned as he repeated your name once more. It sounded almost… pleading. You didnt miss that, and though you still thought he was being over-the-top, you decided to give in.

“Fine…” you sighed “show me these life-saving moves, oh, mighty master!”

Russell cracked a grin, but his expression quickly shifted to that serious trainer look he was trying way too hard to pull off.

“Alright. First rule: break their grip. Grab my wrist… Come on, like you mean it.”

You reached out, gripping his wrist, and he showed you how to twist and pull back, making it surprisingly easy to break free. “See? Leverage, not strength” he explained.

“Okay, fine. Not bad” you admitted, trying not to let him see you were actually impressed. It was kind of cool.

He moved on, showing you a move to throw off an attacker.

“Step in close, get low, and drive your shoulder up under their chin” he said, positioning himself as the attacker. You gave it a try, and he stumbled back with a laugh.

“That’s the spirit!” he said, straightening up. You didn’t miss the small glint of pride in his eyes. “Alright, one more. This time, if someone comes at you from behind.”

Before you knew it, his arms were around you from behind, pulling you close. It was very déjà vu to the way he’d started this whole lesson. “Now, if you were actually in danger—”

“Danger, yes” you teased, leaning back into him just a bit and looked up at him through your lashes. “How’s a girl supposed to focus with such a handsome teacher breathing down her neck? I’m kind of having trouble concentrating, you know.”

He shook his head, a grin slipping out as he loosened his grip. “Laugh it up, sweetheart, but I’m serious here. You’ve got this. Just remember what I taught you, alright? What’s the most important rule!”

You smirked, crossing your arms. “When in doubt… aim for the balls.”

Russell chuckled, eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief. “That’s my girl” he said, pulling you into a kiss.

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A sharp throb pulsed through your skull, but it was nothing compared to the hollow ache in your chest. The cold floor beneath you felt like concrete, but you couldn’t be sure. For now, you kept your eyes closed, trying to piece together what the hell had happened.

The last thing you remembered was the warehouse — those two men ambushing you and Russell.

It was a trap. All of it, carefully set to lure Russell back in, and you along with him.

Your thoughts turned to Russell. He had to be here, somewhere… Somewhere close. The thought pushed you to crack one eye open. Dim light filtered through, casting shadows that made everything look warped and surreal.

You sat up slowly, feeling your muscles protest as you took in your surroundings. The room was small, cramped… more like a cell than a room.

The smell of mildew filled the air, mingling with the unmistakable metallic scent of rusted metal and something else. Blood. Your pulse quickened as you took in the details, every instinct screaming that escape wasn’t an option here.

Your gaze drifted to the far corner, where a dark shape slumped against the wall. Heart pounding, you squinted through the low light, hoping beyond hope that it was him. “Russell?” you tried to call out to him, but it was more of a whisper than anything.

A soft groan answered you, and relief mixed with dread flashed through your veins. You crawled forward, ignoring the scrape of the rough floor against your palms and knees.

As you got closer, Russell’s face came into view. It was uncharacteristically pale, smeared with a hint of dried blood. It wasn’t that bad, but still… it looked like his. His breaths were shallow, his eyes half-closed, and a few small bruises bloomed across his face and arms, telling you he hadn’t escaped this unscathed.

“Hey, Russ” you murmured, reaching out to touch his shoulder gently. His nickname felt both foreign and natural falling from your lips. It’s been a while since you called him that.

His skin was cold and clammy, but at your touch, his eyes fluttered open.

“Y/N…” he rasped with a voice that was both hoarse and somewhat defeated. He took a few moments to compose himself, but he quickly took in his surroundings. “I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have brought you with me.”

Your heart twisted, but you forced a small smile. “Not like I gave you a choice.”

He attempted a smile, but it faded rather abruptly, leaving a shadow of worry on his face. “Where’s Colter?”

“He— he’s not here” you replied scanning the cramped cell. “Do you think they’ve added him to their collection of ‘missing persons’?”

“I don’t know. I can only hope he’s busy slapping some sense into our captors while we’re stuck here” he said, as he tried to stand up.

As the weight of the situation settled in, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway.

You exchanged wary glances, instinctively stepping closer together.

The door to your cell creaked open, revealing a man in a brown suede jacket, sunglasses — mind you, it was inside a semi-dark room — flanked by two guards. Your heart raced as he stepped in, a self-assured smirk playing on his mischievous lips.

Behind him, a small figure shuffled into view, clutching a foreign stuffed toy anxiously.

Emma.

“Look who’s here” the man said, his voice dripping with mockery.

Emma’s wide eyes scanned the room, filled with confusion and fear. “Mommy?”

You felt your heart stop. “Baby girl”

As those words left your lips, Russell seemed frozen in place, his mind momentarily shutting down. It was the first time he was face-to-face with her, his daughter. He took in her small figure, the way she clutched a stuffed toy she probably got from these men tightly, and the wide green eyes that reflected the fear of the days spent in captivity.

His face shifted from pure shock to something that looked like it hurt, like a dam just burst inside him. For a second, all the chaos, the danger, everything melted away, leaving just the connection he felt for her.

But the moment didn’t last long, quickly swallowed up by the harsh reality. You saw the pain flicker in Russell’s eyes as he processed it all. “You’re okay, sweetheart” you assured Emma, stepping closer —only for Mr Douche’s goons to block your path with a grunt. You shot him a look, then turned back to Emma. “We’re getting you out of here.”

The man in his Aviators chuckled, sounding like a cold, amused cacophony. “Isn’t this all so touching?” he said with a mocking smile. Then, his face turned serious. “Shaw, it’s good to see you. Been what? Five? Six months”

Russell didn’t answer, clearly not falling to his little tricks. The man spoke up again. “But let’s not forget why we’re here. You’ve got a decision to make. And this time, it’s not just about you.”

You shot a glare his way before leaning closer to Russell. “Who the hell is this guy?” you whispered.

Russell’s answer was dry as his eyes stayed fixed on the man. “The greatest jackass of all time.”

This was James Rourke, head honcho at Horizon, the very top of the food chain in the world Russell once belonged to. Rourke looked out of place in his fancy brown suede jacket, like he’d wandered in from some luxury lounge instead of a prison cell. And his mustache — a perfectly trimmed little fucking pornstache, practically begging to be mocked — did nothing to make him look any less ridiculous.

Rourke’s smirk widened, clearly enjoying the tension. He glanced over at Emma, who clutched her stuffed toy tighter, her little eyes darting between you and Russell. “Sweet girl” he said, his voice soaked with fake warmth “you must be wondering what’s going on. Don’t worry, it’ll all make sense soon.”

“Leave her out of this,” you snapped.

Rourke tilted his head, smirking like he found your defiance cute. “Oh, sweetie,” he drawled, flashing that irritatingly smug smile. “I don’t think you’re in any position to make demands.” He glanced at Russell, his eyebrows lifted with mock surprise. “Come on, Russell. Did you actually believe you could just walk away?”

Russell’s jaw tightened. “I’m done playing by your rules, Rourke.”

Rourke’s eyes lit up with that twisted, almost playful glint, like he was savoring every second of Russell’s resistance. “Oh, Russell, you seem confused. There is no choice here. You either come back… or things might get, well, complicated.” His gaze slid over to Emma, who instinctively shrank back, catching the meaning immediately, even if not completely.

Your heart hammered in your chest. “You wouldn’t dare” you hissed.

Rourke laughed, sounding genuinely amused this time. “Oh, wouldn’t I? Let’s just say I believe in incentives.” He shot a dark look at Russell “So, either you get back in line… or your little girl here learns just how persuasive I can be.”

The room went ice-cold. Russell’s fists clenched as he glared at Rourke. “You leave her out of this. She’s got nothing to do with your mess.”

Rourke shrugged like he was discussing the weather. "Then stop pretending you’re free to leave. You knew the fine print when you signed up.” He stepped back, giving the guards a nod like they were his personal fan club. “Think it over, both of you. And just a heads-up… I don’t make empty promises.”

As Rourke strode out — with Emma being pulled by her tiny hand, crying out for wanting to stay with you — he shot a final smug look over his shoulder, and the guards followed, slamming the cell door shut behind them.

You sighed as the lock clicked, trapping you both in again. But Russell wasn’t about to throw in the towel. Staying put? Not a chance. Not with you and Emma tangled in this nightmare, and definitely not with Rourke trying to pull the strings.

His gaze swept the cell, then froze on something up high: an air vent, nearly hidden behind a stack of old crates.

“Perfect” he muttered, a hint of determination lighting up his face.

He grabbed one of the crates and slid it under the vent, then looked at you with that familiar spark in his eye. He hauled one of the crates over and tapped it, motioning for you to step up. “Give me a hand up, sweetheart. If we can get the screws loose, we’re gone.”

The nickname caught you off-guard. It fell so easily from his mouth, yet, it seemed so bittersweet now. “Sweetheart?”

He flashed a quick grin, already reaching for the vent. “Old habits die hard. Now, help me with this, yeah?”

You nodded, steadying him as he climbed up and started working on the vent cover. Using a rusty nail he pried from one of the crates, Russell twisted at the screws, working them free with grunts of effort.

With the last screw finally out, you both heard voices echoing from the hallway. Adrenaline kicked in as you climbed up and squeezed into the narrow vent, praying this actually led somewhere.

You hated this. Your claustrophobic ass was kicking you from the inside. How did you end up in a mess like this?

“How are you holding up?” he asked in a whisper, but the concern in his voice was unmistakable. Right. He remembered.

“Stop talking, continue crawling.” you said hurriedly. The less you acknowledged the suffocating surroundings, the better.

YYou crawled along, knees scraping, until you spotted a grate at the end. Kicking it loose, you dropped into a pitch-black storage room. Quietly, you slipped into the hallway beyond, letting Russell lead — his sure footing somehow both reassuring and a little unnerving.

“You know this place?” you whispered, trying to keep the nerves out of your voice.

“Nah” he muttered, casting a glance around. “Just following my instincts.”

“Oh, good. And what do your instincts say about where Emma is?”

Then, like something straight out of a scripted movie, you heard it: a small voice that was unmistakably hers. “Mommy?”

You turned the corner, and there she was, standing behind a closed door with a small window, clutching her stuffed toy. No guards in sight felt like a miracle. Relief and desperation flooded you all at once. The door was locked tight, and there was no key laying around, for obvious reasons.

You watched with a continuously racing heart as Russell pulled a paperclip from his pocket — of all things — and straightened it. “Can’t believe they missed this little bad boy” he murmured, working it into the lock. His gun and knife hadn’t been as lucky; those were gone in an instant. But the paperclip? Somehow, it had slipped right past their search.

With a quiet click, the lock gave way, and Russell shot you a quick, triumphant grin.

You threw the door wide, scooping Emma into your arms as her tiny hands clung to you like a lifeline. She was trembling. Crying.

“Shh, baby girl” you whispered, holding her close. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Russell debated to reach out, but decided now was not the time for a great family reunion. His eyes darted down the hall. “Alright, let’s get out of here before Rourke’s even had his morning coffee.”

“What about Colter?”

“I don’t know if he’s here. And the sooner we get her and you out of here, the better chances of… this ending good.”

He knew Colter could be in hot water, but he told himself he could handle it. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself to suppress the guilt. So far, there were no signs of Colter being around, and Rourke hadn’t mentioned him at all, which made him hope his brother was safely hiding somewhere.

And his priority right now was standing in front of him.

With Emma safe in your arms, you took a breath, steeling yourself for the final sprint to freedom.

You three tiptoed down the hallway when you turned a sharp corner and spotted a guy in black standing there. No visible weapons, which was a small victory in itself.

Your heart skipped a beat, but Russell quickly pulled you back next to the wall. He weighed his options, knowing he had to act fast.

“This ain’t going to be pretty. Just—“ he said as he motioned for you to turn around. You knew well what he was planning. And that indeed wasn’t going to be pretty. You nodded with a leaping heart and turned your back to him, clutching Emma’s head close to your chest, desperately trying to muffle any sounds that might come soon.

God, she's going to need a mountain of therapy after this. And maybe that puppy she’s been talking about.

Russell shot you a quick squeeze on the shoulder, a silent promise that everything would be okay. Then he stepped forward, moving with the kind of focus that made you hold your breath. You pulled Emma close with your heart racing as the seconds felt like goddamn hours.

There was a muffled thud.... and then silence. Russell’s hand on your back signaled it was safe, and you turned to see him standing over the guard, dusting off his hands with a grim, almost satisfied look.

“Alrighty” he whispered “no more interruptions, yeah?”

You let out a shaky breath and nodded, tightening your hold on Emma. Step by step, the three of you crept down the hallway, avoiding every echo and shadow, your goal almost within reach.

Then, up ahead, an exit sign cast a faint glow. Freedom was close enough to taste, and you exchanged a quick glance with Russell. You fult that tiny flicker of hope.

You took a deep breath, squeezing Emma a little tighter. Her small arms wrapped around your neck, a reminder of why you were risking everything. You need to stay calm.

Well, seemingly calm, at least.

You and Russell exchanged a look. Words weren’t necessary; you both knew exactly what was on the line here. Funny, you thought, how his combat skills now felt like a strange kind of comfort.

Just a few more steps down the hallway, and you ended up in a large, warehouse-style room, crates stacked high, lights flickering like something straight out of a bad action movie.

“Really? A crate room?” you muttered.

Russell scanned the area, eyeing a side door. “That might be our way out.”

“Oh yeah? Is that your gut talking, or do you actually know?”

Before he could shoot back, footsteps echoed down the hall. Russell hissed a quick curse and signaled for you to duck behind a stack of crates.

You crouched down, holding Emma close as the door creaked open and two guards strolled in, giving the room a once-over like they had it all under control.

“Think they’d make it this far?” one guard muttered.

The other chuckled. “No way. Shaw’s decent, but those two he’s with? Dead weight.”

Russell sized them up and he leaned in close. “Stay low.”

You gave a small nod, clutching Emma tighter.

Russell edged closer to the guards, blending into the shadows like a pro. In one smooth motion, he slammed the first guard into the second, and they both crumpled to the ground like a pair of falling dominoes. Before they could even register what was happening, he struck with quick punches and a perfectly timed knee, leaving them both out cold and wondering what just hit them.

Once they were on the floor, Russell wasted no time. He crouched down, quickly rifling through the guards’ gear. “We’re gonna need these” he muttered, pulling a pistol from one guard’s holster and a knife from the other. With practiced ease, he tucked the pistol into his waistband and handed the knife to you. “Think you can handle it?” he asked, a smirk tugging at his lips as he looked you over.

You raised an eyebrow at the guards' bodies, really, desperately trying to convince yourself they’re just sleeping. As you gripped the knife, you tried to motion your position to cover most of the scene from Emma. It worked, she was only focused on you. And you were only focusing on the difficulty of keeping her close with one hand.

Man, she is getting big.

“Well, my self-defense teacher never covered how to use a knife” you quipped.

Russell chuckled softly, a hint of pride in his eyes. “Just use it on instinct. Don’t hesitate when it counts. And remember to—”

“To aim for the balls” you finished with a smirk.

“I’d really like to meet your teacher. Must be a real pro” he said with a smirk.

You shrugged. “Eh, he was handsome, sure. But turned out he kept secrets.”

“Sounds like a total douche” he muttered, though you caught the guilt in his voice.

“Yep. Was a major douche.”

“Was?”

You gave him a teasing glance. “Well… I’m still trying to figure out what he’s like now.”

With a small smile and a quick glance at the guards, he pocketed extra ammo and anything else that might come in handy. Armed and ready, he led you both to the side door.

With Emma snug in your arms and a renewed sense of determination, you stepped into the night together.

For a second, the three of you standing there almost looked like some offbeat family photo… bittersweet, and about as far from normal as it gets.

But the moment you took in your surroundings, you felt a chilly sensation. This sure as hell didn’t look like Idaho Falls. Nor the rundown warehouse you’d started in.

You had no idea where you were.

━━━━━━━━━━✦✧✦━━━━━━━━━━━

Next on Tuesday’s Gone (Sneak Peak from Chapter 5)

Emma tilted her head while her expression turned adorably thoughtful. “You’re hairy. Like grandpa.”

Russell chuckled as he ran a hand through his beard. “Yeah, I guess I am. It’s my pirate look.”

Her eyes lit up at the word pirate. “Are you a pirate?! Can I be one, too?”

“Absolutely” he replied. “But we have to be sneaky pirates, okay? No one can know we’re here.”

Your heart did a little flip at the sight. The way he talked to your daughter — his daughter — his voice surprisingly soft and sweet, even in this situation. Emma’s reaction wasn’t a shock, though. She had a habit of linking beards (like the one your dad rocked) with safety and familiar love.

━━━━━━━━━━✦✧✦━━━━━━━━━━━

Whoa, we finally got that wonderfully chaotic family reunion! Can’t wait to dive deeper into Emma and Russell’s relationship in the upcoming chapters.

I hope you enjoyed reading.

Read Chapter 5 here

🤍Taglist🤍

@bitchykittenconnoisseur @smoothdogsgirl @spnfamily-j2 @winchesterwild78 @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @zepskies @kr804573 @sebastianstangirl01 @kmc1989

[deerlino]

Can i please request an arcade date fic w han? Or a nap date fic w han? Like whichever one you choose can you make it with a lot of hugs and face kisses? If you choose the arcade one can you like make it like a double date w like chan and his gf and like make it so each couple is competing w each other or girls v guys?????

ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR ( HJS. )

Han Jisung x Fem!Reader

Sypnosis: You and your boyfriend Jisung hit the arcade for a double date with your friends Chan and his girlfriend. It’s game after game with the loser buying dinner. (746 words)

Content: Fluff, Established Relationship, Arcade (Double) Date, Competitive Spirit, Crack, Humor, Teasing & Banter, Kisses, Hugs, Dinner Date, Pet Names

Warnings: Strong Language (Cussing)

Author’s notes: I’m obsessed with arcade fics, so thanks for the request, anon! <3 I usually don't write fics with more than two characters (you can probably tell after reading this 😅), but it was fun to try something new! There’s more interaction between Jisung and the reader (Y/N) than between Chan and his girlfriend, but if you want Chan’s and his girlfriend’s POV for this night, I’d be happy to write it—just let me know! Hope you enjoy this fic! 🖤

You walk into the arcade with Jisung by your side, the neon lights reflecting off his bright smile. Chan and his girlfriend are already inside, waving enthusiastically. The air buzzes with excitement, laughter, and the constant clattering of game machines.

“Finally! We thought you guys got lost or something,” Chan jokes, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“Please, we were just fashionably late,” Jisung retorts, his arm snug around your waist. “Ready to lose?”

“Oh, it’s on,” Chan grins. “Losers buy dinner, right?”

You nod, feeling the competitive fire in your belly. “Prepare your wallet, Chan.”

The first game is basketball hoops. You and Jisung face off against Chan and his girlfriend. Jisung winks at you, his confidence infectious. 

“Okay, babe, show ’em what you got,” Jisung encourages, squeezing your hand.

You take a deep breath and start shooting. The balls fly out of your hands in a blur, and you manage to sink a few good shots. Jisung, meanwhile, is a machine, sinking basket after basket with ease.

“Yes! That’s my girl!” he shouts, pulling you into a hug, his lips brushing against your temple.

Chan’s girlfriend isn’t too shabby either, and she and Chan are racking up points fast. It’s neck and neck, but in the end, Jisung’s steady aim pulls you both ahead.

“Ha! In your face!” Jisung crows, doing a little victory dance. You join in, laughing as he twirls you around.

“Alright, alright, you won this one,” Chan admits, feigning defeat. “Next game!”

You move on to the air hockey table. Chan insists on a rematch, and you can see the determination in his eyes. You and Jisung huddle close, strategizing.

“Just keep hitting it towards Chan’s left side,” Jisung whispers, his breath warm against your ear. “He’s terrible there.”

You nod, determined. The puck flies back and forth in a flurry of intense concentration. Each time you score, Jisung’s whoops fill the air, followed by a quick kiss on your cheek.

“You got this, babe! One more point!”

You give it your all and, with a final swift move, score the winning point. Jisung lifts you off the ground in a bear hug, peppering your face with kisses. 

“Attagirl, you got this!” he exclaims, grinning from ear to ear.

Chan throws his hands up in mock despair. “I can’t believe this. Next game!”

You move from game to game, the stakes growing higher with each round. Skee-ball, racing games, whack-a-mole. You and Jisung are in sync, teasing and cheering each other on, sharing quick hugs and kisses every chance you get.

At one point, during a particularly heated dance game, Jisung accidentally steps on your foot. He immediately stops, concern written all over his face.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, baby!” he apologizes, crouching down to inspect your foot. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Sungie,” you assure him, giggling at his overreaction. “Just don’t step on me again!”

He stands up, giving you a sheepish smile before pulling you into a hug. “Never. Let’s win this.”

And win you do. By the end of the night, the scoreboard is clear: you and Jisung have won more games than Chan and his girlfriend. Chan groans dramatically, but there’s a playful glint in his eyes.

“Fine, dinner’s on us,” he says, pulling out his wallet. “You guys are too good at this.”

“We’ll try to be gracious winners,” Jisung says, giving you a mischievous look before planting a kiss on your lips.

You all head to a nearby diner, collapsing into the booth in a fit of giggles and exhausted happiness. Jisung sits close to you, his hand never leaving yours. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear.

“I had so much fun tonight,” he murmurs. “We should do this more often.”

You smile, turning to kiss his cheek. “Definitely. But next time, we’re upping the stakes.”

Jisung laughs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. “You’re on, babe.”

As you all dig into your food, the conversation flows easily, filled with teasing, laughter, and the warmth of good company. Jisung keeps sneaking kisses, his fingers laced with yours under the table.

By the end of the night, you can’t stop smiling. It’s been a perfect date, full of fun, love, and a healthy dose of competition. And as Jisung walks you home, his arm around your waist and his lips pressed to your forehead, you know there’s no one else you’d rather be with.

© deerlino (est. 150624) ༯ heyo, did you enjoy this piece? if you did, maybe you could reblog, drop a comment, or shoot me an ask to let me know your thoughts. also, feel free to check out my other stuff! thanks a bunch for the support! <3

[enkas-illusion]

Better Than Your 2D Men

Fandom / Pairing: Attack On Titan / Eren x f!reader

Rating: SFW / Fluff

Genre/Theme: Established relationship; non-titan au

Content warning: fluff, teasing, language, suggestive (?), they make out a little.

Summary: When you crush over your fav anime men, Eren gets jealous cause homeboy wants all the attention to himself.

Author's Note: Hello, here’s a short fluffy one-shot with my fav 2D man cause I wanted to have an ambitious crossover of my fav animes. Thank you for reading <3

~ Eren’s Birdie

Song Dedication: 3D (Alternate Ver.) by Jung Kook

“Baby… pay attention to me…”

You ignore your boyfriend's pouty voice as he lies across the bed, near your feet – instead, you focus on the laptop screen on your lap.

“How much longerrrr?” You hear him sigh and feel fingers caressing the bottom of your feet.

“You know I'm not ticklish,” you reply plainly, eyes still glued to the screen.

“Hmm, that's why…” you hear him mumble before you feel a set of teeth bite around your right foot toes.

“Eren, ew… what the fuck,” you cringe, pulling your foot away from him as you slide the laptop to your side, abruptly halting the anime you were watching to finally look at him.

Your boyfriend smiles ingeniously, proud of his accomplishment at finally getting your attention redirected towards him.

“So that’s what it takes for you to finally pay attention to what really matters,” he ponders as he crawls up to lie between your legs, tilting his head to rest his face on your right thigh.

“I was focusing on what really matters,” you roll your eyes as you grab your laptop once again to rest it on your other thigh. However, Eren’s quick to move further up till his torso is splayed over you, almost like a lizard trying to cover as much surface area of a wall it possibly can.

“Rennie, please let me finish these episodes, I haven’t had the time to watch them for like… weeks now,” you sigh as you try to move his heavy body to the side.

He doesn't budge but simply wraps his arms around your waist, tucking his hands into the gap between your body and the mattress, resting his cheek on your belly, “Okay, you can continue watching.” 

You sigh in defeat as you tilt your laptop screen, pressing play and focusing your attention back on the show despite the awkward position you’re in. 

It isn’t another 10 minutes into the episode before you hear your boyfriend speak again, “Sometimes I wonder if the only reason you watch this show is cause the men are attractive. There’s no way a slice-of-life person like you enjoys such violence and death.”

You don’t reply, trying your best to ignore his commentary and focusing on the fight scene.

“Oh my god, I’m right! Who is it? Do you like Gojo? Or Nanami? Or who– what are the names of other hot men in this one?” Eren chuckles in disbelief, looking up to scan your face to see if you give away anything.

“Shh, let me concentrate… it’s an important fight,” you mumble without looking at him and the scene is almost over.

“Yeah right,” he scoffs as he pauses the episode right when Choso enters the frame, “tell me, do you find this guy hot?”

“Eren, are you seriously jealous of a 2D character?” you counter, trying not to laugh at his actions.

“Well, if he’s stealing my precious time with my girl then ye–”

“We’ve literally been in bed the whole day,” you interrupt him.

“And is it so wrong to want to be closer to my girlfriend?” he gasps.

“Yes, you were lying around, scrolling on your phone… doing random shit the whole day but the minute I decided to watch JJK, you suddenly want my attention,” you roll your eyes at him.

“Don’t change the topic– who’s your fav among them?” he dodges your accusations.

A smile creeps up on your lips as you decide to indulge him, “Well, they’re all so hot, it’s hard to choose really. There’s this guy, Choso… and Geto, and Toji! Now that I think about it, all of them are equally attractive.”

“All brunettes,” he notes.

“What?” you ask, confused.

“All the men you just named have dark hair,” he states.

“Yes… so?” 

“I’m basically like the real-life version of them – I have long, dark hair, a good physique, handsome face–”

“Okay, Narcissus, chill,” you snort. Eren pulls away from you to move further up till he’s hovering over you, caging your head between his arms.

“No, my point being… if you have all of this right here,” he points at himself as he smirks, “why waste your time on some stupid anime?”

“I can have both,” you grin, pressing your palms over his chest.

“One is clearly better than the other,” he dips his head down for a peck.

“I seriously can’t believe you’re jealous of a bunch of sexy 2D men,” you giggle once again.

“No, I'm not… Can your 2D men do this?” he whispers, tilting your face and burying his face into your neck. He licks your skin before sucking on it roughly, causing goosebumps to rise all over your body.

“Can they?” he asks once again as his hand glides under your t-shirt to cup one of your breasts, playing with the nipple. Eren nibs at the spot behind your ear and you let out a soft moan. “Yes?” 

“No,” you huff, closing your eyes at the feeling.

“So, am I not better than your 2D men?” he whispers in your ear before biting your earlobe. His hand abandons your tit, instead travelling down to dip into the waistband of your shorts, pressing two fingers over your mound.

“Y-yes,” you sigh. He laughs at how desperate your voice comes out and you tilt your head to kiss him on the lips to end this awkward conversation. 

And Eren, being the good boyfriend that he is, lets you mask your embarrassment into his embrace – delighted at being the centre of your attention once again.

~fin~

[dawneternal]

Yes, Valkyrie

₊⊹ Gwynriel one shot

₊⊹ Gwyn is inspired by a scene in her current read. Of course, she begins conspiring to reenact this scene, with a little help from Azriel's shadows. Somewhere along the way, she discovers a persona she had no idea was waiting under the surface.

₊⊹ Word Count: 2.8k

₊⊹ Warnings: Smut, 18+, minors DNI. Established relationship. Gwyn is in charge, Az is tied up (kind of) p in v, shadow play, wing play.

(listen I don't write that much smut so idk how to tag this, if I missed anything pls let me know)

₊⊹ Read on AO3

₊⊹ Divider by tsunami-of-tears

Gwyn snapped her book shut and set it on the table in front of her. She took a long sip of her iced coffee in an attempt to cool her warm skin. The story was getting a little too salacious to read in public. Nesta or Emerie would probably keep reading, though they were both better at masking their emotions.

She glanced at Azriel, who hadn't noticed a thing, engrossed in his own book. She wasn't sure if it was something he was reading for fun or for work. They all tended to look the same, thick and weathered with a million dog-eared pages and notes in the margins. As his mate and a librarian, Gwyn should probably know. But she wasn't often thinking about books when she was with him.

Like now, as she found her eyes wandering from the long-winded title on the spine to his long fingers, poised to turn the page. Her gaze slid up, tracing the outline of his form. It was his day off and he wore a black shirt that hugged his muscled arms and torso. His black curls were perfectly messy, tortoiseshell reading glasses perched on his nose. His shadows buzzed around him like sleepy bees on a sunny day - a sign that he was actually relaxed. Even while he focused, brows furrowed and bottom lip poked out in concentration, he kept a claiming hand on Gwyn's thigh.

He did not notice her scent change as her thoughts turned back toward her book, replacing the love interest's features with his. The love interest of this story happened to have wings like Azriel, and a few specific lines were echoing in her mind. He had let her touch his wings before, but nothing quite like the scene she had just read.

Gwyn swallowed a wicked grin and stretched her arms up and out, letting out a long, pretend yawn. She let her fingertips brush the edge of his wing as she brought her arms back down. He started, shadows darting into action as his wings tucked into his body with a snap. He turned his head toward her slowly with a wide-eyed look that read are you crazy?

"My bad," Gwyn smiled innocently. Azriel blinked at her for a moment before returning to his reading. But she felt it, the flicker of heat he had sent through the bond as her fingers had brushed his wing.

✦✦✦

When they returned to the House of Wind, Gwyn quietly trailed Azriel into their shared room. His shadows were on her side today, choosing not to alert him to the fact that he was being followed. She was the only one who was silent enough to sneak up on him.

She closed the door with a thud, leaning against it, and that wicked grin returned. Azriel jumped, head whipping to look over his shoulder. The shadows danced with amusement at their clever trick.

"Yes, Valkyrie?" He huffed a breath. Her gaze lingered on his backside, meandering up to meet his gaze as he turned around fully.

"I have an idea," Gwyn said.

Her voice was a note deeper than usual and it had his attention. He tilted his head at her, eyes gleaming with interest.

"Do you trust me?" Gwyn continued, and she watched his eyes darken.

"Yes," His voice was a little breathy and the Valkyrie grinned.

"Wings only," She explained, pushing off the door and stalking closer until they were nearly chest to chest.

Azriel's eyebrows shot upwards, but Gwyn did not miss the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed.

"Yes," He said again, after a moment.

Gwyn reached out, sliding her hands under his shirt to lift it from his body. He let her, utterly still as she pulled it over his head and began a constellation of kisses, connecting his tattoos and battle scars. The bond was humming, pulsing with warmth at every touch, doubling the thrill of anticipation. He watched in adoration, fingers tangling in her ponytail as she unbuckled his belt and slid his pants and underwear to the floor.

"Kneel on the bed," She ordered, blood singing with anticipation as she looked up at him. His cock twitched at the command and he obeyed, crawling into the bed and kneeling in front of her. Arms loose at his sides, muscular thighs spread, his body was on full display.

Gwyn let her hair down, the white ribbon that had been tied in a bow now dangling from her fingers. She circled around to the other side of the bed and gently grasped his wrists. His breath hitched as she bound his hands with the ribbon, but he did not protest.

"Good boy," Gwyn murmured, pressing one chaste kiss to his shoulder before moving to face him again.

She caught his gaze dragging over her as she stood before him, and she let herself admire him in turn. His smooth bronze skin, slim hips and absurdly defined abs, and strong arms that could break through the ribbon any time he wanted. But judging by his blown pupils and hardening cock, he was exactly where he wanted to be.

Gwyn peeled her clothes off slowly, holding his eye contact as she did so. She let her breasts bounce as she pulled off her bra, chuckling as his shadows rushed forward to caress her bare nipples.

"Keep your shadows to yourself, pretty boy," She murmured, swallowing a gasp at their cool, light touch. Almost reluctantly, they returned to their master, swirling around his head like a dark halo.

Free of her clothes, Gwyn moved to stand before him, eyes flicking over the sweat already beading at his brow. She lifted his chin with her fingers and smirked as she bypassed his lips, leaning to press soft kisses down his throat, drinking in the rapid beat of his pulse. She traced his body with a gentle touch, running over the lines of his tattoos and the grooves between his muscles. It was a routine she could not bring herself to break, mapping his body with the affection he deserved. She heard his breath hitch again, wings rustling behind him as they untucked and spread.

The Valkyrie climbed onto the bed and moved behind him, peppering the back of his neck and shoulders with open mouthed kisses, tongue sliding over his skin. Avoiding his wings just yet.

"Are you ready?" She leaned forward and purred into his ear, breasts pressed against his back.

"Mhm," He murmured, chest rising and falling.

"Words, shadowsinger."

"I'm ready," He stammered, as if it were hard to conjure words in this position.

"You'll tell me any time you want to stop?"

"I promise."

Satisfied, Gwyn began, dipping her finger into the inside seam where the velvety dark wing met his skin, facing toward his shoulder blade. The skin was especially soft, protected from wind and sun. He let out a quiet moan, arching his back into her touch.

"So responsive," Gwyn murmured, circling her fingers around to the other side, stroking along the thick base of his wing.

"I can't help it," He groaned, shivering again.

"No?" She asked, leaning forward to run her tongue over the spot where her fingers had just been. The base of the wing was fuzzy, like the skin of a peach.

"Fuck," Azriel grunted.

"So my book wasn't lying?" She asked, her voice like a sultry song. Her hands continued their exploration, up the solid arches of his wings toward the shining talons.

"I should've guessed this came from a book," He ground out.

Gwyn wanted him incapable of speech, not taunting her. So she pressed harder, raking her nails back down the thin membrane as she licked a stripe up his spine. His wings shivered, trembling with the effort of deciding wether to lean in or move away. A conflict that Azriel often subjected her to, and now she could get even.

"What were you saying?" She crooned, and smirked when she got no answer. Only the shadowsinger's heavy breathing, his shadows pulsing around him.

She touched every inch of wing, memorizing their beautiful shape, adding every curve and texture to the map in her mind. Every seam had a dip the perfect size for her finger to drag through, the skin so delicate, the structure so intricate and lovely.

His body shone with sweat as  worshipped without mercy, savoring the salty taste of his skin as she pulled moan after and moan from his throat. It almost seemed as though those wings were built purely for pleasure, the way his body reacted to her touch, the noises he made purely sinful.

By the time she had returned to her starting point, having licked, nipped and stroked everything she could reach, Azriel's entire body shook.

She rose up on her knees and peered over his shoulders to catch a glimpse of his face, contorted in pleasure, and his cock, red and weeping. A few times, his shadows swept in toward her and then backed away, just barely brushing her skin. As if Azriel had begun to reach for her and then remembered the rules.

"Tell me which part you like best," She let her breath brush over his ear again, reveling in the goosebumps spreading in response. He was so close to falling apart, one foot in a realm of pure pleasure.

"The-the," He swallowed hard, a groan escaping in between words as he answered, "The inside, near my shoulder blades."

Gwyn hummed, watching his muscles tighten in anticipation as her fingertips moved back toward that inner seam. The sounds he released as she found that hidden spot lit a fire in the Valkyrie's stomach. She didn't have to look to know that her arousal was dripping onto the bed beneath her. As if she cared, right now.

"Fuck," He groaned, "I can't...I need...."

Gwyn was driven wild by the glistening muscles flexing against the ribbon that bound him. She threaded her fingers into his dark curls and tugged, not very gently.

"Come for me," She commanded, voice low and wicked and she dug her fingertips in deeper.

The moan that he released was nothing like his usual gutteral groan. This was higher pitched, soft and breathy and elicited from some deep and desperate place. Gwyn did not know that a noise could make her cunt throb the way it did.

She gave him barely a moment to come down from his high before she was crawling around to face him, grabbing his face in her hands and kissing him fiercely. He chased her lips with his, emitting broken sounds into her throat as her tongue swept in.

Pulling back to look at him, panting, she wasn't sure she had ever felt this desperate. Azriel was entirely undone and at her mercy, his chest slick with sweat and painted with his cum, hands still tied behind him as he panted. His hair stuck up where she had pulled it, his eyes dark and full of desire. And something new, that she hadn't seen before. She was sure he'd seen it often. It was desperation, like he was one kiss away from begging for what he wanted.

"Do as I say and you'll be rewarded," She said, leaning in to graze his lips as she spoke. She kissed him again, softly. Agonizingly slow, even as he tried to speed up.

Gwyn pulled back, dragged two fingers through the stripes of white dripping down his torso and pushed them into his mouth.

"Suck."

His cock twitched against her thigh, already hard and aching again. He kept his eyes locked on hers as his warm tongue swirled around her fingers, throat bobbing as he swallowed.

"Good boy," She murmured, and the whine he let out was against his will.

Gwyn had been in charge before, but she had never dared to be this bossy. It had not even come from the book that had inspired this whole thing. This had emerged from somewhere deep inside her, and it set every inch of her skin on fire. Azriel's eyes burned into hers as she took her fingers from his mouth, tightening his lips so her fingers made a pop upon release. He watched as she reached between her legs with those fingers, coated in his spit, for some relief.

She bit her lip, swallowing a moan, cheeks reddening in desperation.

"Can I touch you?" Azriel croaked, pulling at the ribbon that Gwyn had almost forgotten about.

"Remember your manners," She said, fingers still circling between her legs.

"Can I please touch you?"

Gwyn reached around with her free hand and pulled the knot undone. Immediately, one strong arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her into his lap to straddle him. And his other hand pushed hers aside, dipping a finger into her soaked cunt.

She was lost to it for a moment as relief rolled through her body. The shadowsinger took the opportunity to attack her neck, kissing and marking with fervor. She closed her eyes and basked in his touch for just a moment before she remembered her task. She would not let her control slip away so easily.

Her eyes snapped open, and she felt a wave of satisfaction as the shadowsinger shrank, just a little. His plan had not worked. The shadows shuddered, as if giggling at their master's foolishness.

"You promised to do as I say," It was almost a growl. She pushed his shoulders until he was laying down, legs straightening out before him as she straddled his hips. "And you tried to take control from me."

Gwyn lowered her body, movements fluid and graceful like a predator, until her chest was pressed against his and they were nose to nose.

"I think I deserve an apology, don't you?" She purred, hips circling and spreading her arousal over his length.

"Yes," He breathed, the amber of his eyes barely visible behind his pupils, "I'm sorry."

"Yes what?" She demanded, sliding her hand up around his throat and pressing the lightest amount of pressure against the sides, "I'm sorry what?"

His eyes widened and for a moment she thought she had gone too far, but then she felt a moan in his throat, vibrating beneath her palm.

"Yes Valkyrie," His voice was broken, body softening like putty under her hands, "I'm sorry, Valkyrie."

"Good boy," A grin spread across Gwyn's face. She sat up, keeping that hand wrapped around his throat as she rose up and aligned them. The other braced against his chest. She did not bother with a slow entry, sinking down on his cock in one motion, thighs flush against hips. He let out a hiss as she paused to let herself adjust.

The world around her was fading as her desperation grew, her body aching almost painfully. It would almost be a mercy to relinquish control again. But she craved the rush of this position as much as she craved release.

"Let your shadows touch me," She choked out the words, beginning to move her hips. Azriel obeyed, letting his shadows loose. They circled her body and attacked, swirling over every part of her they could reach.

Her high was approaching fast, urged on by the sight of Azriel below her, face flushed and lips parted. She pressed against his throat and chest harder, using him as leverage to angle herself deeper. He watched,  mesmerized by the rhythm of her body, and grasped her hips, fingertips digging in as he urged her faster. Every rise and fall of her hips made an obscene slap, echoing through the room.

With a shadow attached to each nipple and one moving over her clit, she was soaring close to the edge. She slammed down harder, a grunt escaping in time with each smack of her ass against his thighs. Azriel reached up and squeezed her breasts, rolling both nipples between his fingers.

The change from the shadows soft touch to his firm hands pulled her over. Her head fell back as she roared, louder than she had ever let herself. Azriel's hands slid down around her waist to keep her moving and extend the waves of bliss. The hand around Azriel's throat finally loosened, nails dragging down his chest in time with a long, breathy moan.

Finally, she slumped forward, letting her body fall against his as she closed her eyes. Azriel wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. He let her lay still for a long moment before whispering, cautiously,

"Is this still the Valkyrie or is this my Gwyn again?"

"Gwyn," She murmured against his skin. Whatever vixen that possessed her had retreated, leaving her spent and sweaty.

"Good," He said, his voice dropping a note lower. She squealed as those strong arms flipped her around and she found herself laying underneath him, staring up into his smirking face.

"But...." She whispered, suddenly shy, "Did you like her? The Valkyrie?"

"I think I'd have to meet her again to be sure" Azriel murmured, nosing at the space between her shoulder and neck, breath hot against her skin, "But for now it is my turn."

[littlerequiem]

— enchanted ˚⁎⁺ levi ackerman x gn!reader

CONTENT — A Howl's Moving Castle inspired one-shot featuring Wizard Levi and a Violin Maker Reader. No real warnings, just some fluff about first encounters, Levi's POV (wc: 1.1k)

The rhythmic sound of coins being deposited into the till ceases.

Levi looks up as you finish recording the transaction of his payment in a notebook, a magical quill transcribing your thoughts directly onto the paper. Despite the help, you remain concentrated on your task, creases forming between your brows. 

Levi studies you.

You are as he last remembers, but different.

Your essence is the same, but your strength is yet to be discovered. 

And you are more modest than he remembers. You wear a simple straw hat, which doesn't have any woven details nor ribbons to adorn it. 

All things considered, it is a rather plain hat. But perhaps its most offensive transgression is the fact that it is worn by someone as special as you.

Oh yes, Levi wasn’t sure when he spotted you in the crowds in the bustling town of Market Chipping, but now, he is certain of it.

It’s you.  

And someone of your caliber? 

You deserve the finest silk hats. 

You deserve to be far away from a step-sister who mistreats you and takes advantage of your skills as an artisan. 

You deserve to open your own shop, in a town you choose for yourself.  

You just deserve more. 

“I hope you enjoy your violin, Sir,” you say to him, tearing him out of his observations. Your voice is low and collected, as though you are afraid to draw attention to yourself.

You hand him a package—the violin he just bought—wrapped carefully in a leather-bound box. It is one of the finest instruments Levi has ever seen, but that you're the one who crafted it makes it priceless. 

Levi says nothing as he takes his new purchase in his two hands. He tucks it under one arm and continues to stare at you. 

Behind the counter, trinkets float around the different violins on display, jewels of all colors gleaming and reflecting a myriad of colors on your skin. It is a beautiful and delicate sight, and Levi secretly wonders how you would look surrounded by more colors.  

At Levi’s silence, you follow his gaze and catch what he is staring at. 

“Oh, those?” you let out, a timid smile creeping up on your lips. You reach out into the air, and various gems hover around your fingertips, like metal attracted to a magnet. “These are enchanted gemstones. We sell them to musicians looking for a muse. Our local Witch has charmed them to float around like this. Catchy, isn’t it?”  

As you finish explaining your story, you pluck one stone that’s swirling above you. You turn and offer it to him, opening your palm.

It’s a pink stone, etched with sharp corners and glistening surfaces.  

“It is said that each stone brings a different kind of luck to its owner,” you explain, a gleam of light reflecting onto your cheeks as you twirl the stone around. “This one’s a rose quartz. It’s meant to promise long lasting love.”

Levi's lips twitch at the sight of the stone.

Long lasting love, huh?

Of course, Levi recognizes the pink gem—he recognized it the moment he walked into the shop. It is the same stone that you wore as a necklace in his past when you first saved him.

Despite this, he still finds himself asking you:  “Why hand me this one?” 

Levi still doesn’t retrieve the gem from your hand, allowing you to finish your sales pitch. 

You blink, your eyes flickering to him. Your expression is riddled with uncertainty, as if you didn’t expect Levi would be interested in what you had to say. 

You swallow a heavy breath, your hand faltering.

“D’you know what? I don’t understand it myself. It just… felt right. Isn’t that strange?” You bite your bottom lip nervously. “Here, you keep it—it’s on the house.” 

You bring your hand closer to his own, offering him the stone. 

But Levi waves a hand in the air to refuse.

“No,” Levi answers coolly. “This isn’t a charity.”

He sees you frown, appearing taken aback.

Levi gestures to the stone still in your hand. “But I would like to buy it.” 

A victorious grin creeps on your lips, as though you didn’t believe your speech might lead to this turn of events. You nod, looking oddly satisfied with yourself. 

“Alright then,” you hum. You tell him the price of the stone and he hands you the change. Before handing him his new possession, you give him a curious stare. “What name should I put on both receipts?”

He stills.

“Levi Ackerman,” he answers, studying you carefully to gauge your reaction.

You look up at him. Recognition flashes on your face and you appear startled. Afraid, perhaps.

“Oh.” There’s a tremor to your voice that wasn’t there before. “Are you… the Levi Ackerman? Humanity’s Strongest Wizard?” 

Levi crosses his arms over his chest. The term Humanity Strongest was first coined many years ago, when he was still an apprentice and his mastery of magic was deemed extraordinary.

He hates the title. 

“Fucking pretentious, isn’t it?” Levi comments, the muscles on his face tensing. 

You seem to relax upon hearing Levi's response, the same smile ghosting your face. “Well, it is a bit much. Couldn’t settle for a title with less… flair?”  

“Believe me, I would have loved to,” Levi mutters. 

The corner of your mouth lift upwards. “I suppose Humanity’s Okay-est Wizard doesn’t quite have the same ring to it, huh?”

Levi shrugs. “I think I would settle for just Levi, if I could,” he confesses.

Levi wants to say that he’d settle for you calling him like that, but he refrains himself. That would be way too forward of him and way too creepy of a thing to hear from someone you don’t even know.

But Levi knows you.

(He’s known you for many years.) 

For him, to hear his name on your lips would be as natural as the wind blowing through the valley of this town.

There’s a gleam in your eyes now, the beginning of a fire Levi recognizes. “Alright, just Levi. Tell me, do you believe in the properties of stones?”

Levi clicks his tongue in a way that it hisses through his teeth, amusement and disbelief blending on his face.

“Not really.” Levi gazes at you thoughtfully. “But maybe one day.” 

You give him a curious look and place the gem into his palm. The contact of your fingertips against his skin sizzles. 

Levi pockets the stone, burning the memory of you in his mind. He’ll gift you the necklace one day, and you'll both see that the properties of the stone are true.

But before that, your own story has to start.

See you soon, Violin Maker.

— Masterlist

[princesspastel8]

• Gentle •

A Sleep token(Vessel) one-shot

No smut, just fluff.

《 First time writing a xreader. So bare with me.》

°this is based on a dream I had. I hope you all enjoy°

~ words used throughout this story: you, your, you're, she, her ~

♡ Story written in Third Person POV ♡

- Life is full of ups and downs. Most go through trauma that shapes and molds them into who they are today. Others seek help. Most live with it. Life is full of trials, some easier than others. You past a few and fail others. Life is full of choices. You may choose good, but everyone is allowed to make bad ones - bad choices.

Life is what you make of it.

But sometimes, life can get lonely. One can surround themselves with family, friends, or maybe even a lover- but most still feel an empty void that no one is able to fill. So you try a different tactic, shopping. This method only hurts your pockets and places others in debt.

Music

A way to express one's self. A way to distract or help concentrate. An alternative method to fill a void.

That is y/n's method. The only one that serves to distract the ache in her heart when the loneliness strikes. Y/n's life is one that most could relate to. Growing up as the middle child, parents constantly arguing, a passive-aggressive older brother, a compulsive lying little sister, and a brother with autism that's a year apart from her in age.

A loving family, on the surface.

There wasn't abuse of any kind, but the weight of responsibility fell onto y/n's shoulders at such a young age. Trying to protect her siblings from hearing their parents fight while watching over her autistic brother. You suffered in silence, thriving for perfection in everything you do to avoid being fussed at and nitpick - while dealing with a little sister that always got her way by lying.

Sure, this life may not be as bad for most - but pain is pain. Trauma is trauma.

As the years pass, the weight of this responsibility grows heavier. Y/n grew up with no friends and not much attention given to her by her parents. You did receive love from your aunts, but that too was cut loose by your jealous mother - having witnessed her daughters grow closer to her sisters.

Middle school came and went, only making two friends - both transfering to different schools. High school came, full of nothing but hardships that caused y/n's trust issues to blossom.

Y/N has been known to be the strong one. Strong and independent - you needed no one, but she did. Y/N struggles to express yourself properly. In times where crying is needed, you'd turn to anger - wrath - until she snaps. Having to deal with a narcissistic toxic best friend, you desperately needed someone - anyone. Y/N couldn't let the best friend go, having been your only friend at the time.

Y/N didn't want to be alone.

But the dating began....

Relationship after Relationship leaves you more battered and bruised than the last, but senior year comes - and you meet him. A man Y/N couldn't get enough of. A man who knew her better than you knew yourself. A man who also hurt her in the end.

He did return, making amends - but nothing comes from this. Your heart, however, still wanted him - but you knew you had to let him go.

Have you ever encountered someone and began to picture how your life would pan out if you were to be with them?

Y/N did, with that man. She could see her life pan out differently, the opposite of what she wanted.

To put it quite frankly, Y/N is terrible at love.

How can she spot a good man when Y/N's father has only ever been an example of the bad? He did try his best, but it wasn't enough.

So here she is, now living with the aunt that showered her in the attention she needed as a child. Life is better, more calm - peaceful. The once suffocating responsibility is light. She has friends who are trustworthy, loyal, and honest. That deep void full of sadness & loneliness should be gone - yes?

No.

She has love. Love from family. Love from friends. Yet she still longs for something she's no longer sure what it may be.

A lover.

Again, her luck in men is poor. She's never encountered a man who has a gentleness to them. Most men try to use her, her last relationship being the worse. The provoking picking leads to pointless arguments. The pressure to perform lewd acts, only to be left disgusted and full of shame.

At this point, she doubts she'll ever meet a man who will cherish her.

Having never been shown proper love from a partner, she stays to herself. She's still so young. She has time to find the right one, but her mental road blocks prevent her from being optimistic.

Music.

Ah yes, the one healthy method to help sooth the ache in her heart.

Music has been the one thing she fully relied on to help ease the tiniest pitches of pain lingering in her heart. It's only a matter of time before she stumbles upon a band known as 'Sleep Token'. Instantly, she's hooked.

Their songs, their sound - his voice.

She's obsessed, deeply rooted in all things involving this band. Their music, the lyrics, captivating her in a way she couldn't explain. Sleep token brings her peace within her clouded void. They're the perfect distraction.

Soon, she goes to see them live. The experience lights a spark within her, making her truly cherish the art that is Sleep token.

Y/N starts from the back rows, with each passing show - bringing herself closer and closer to the stage until she's front row. Mesmerizing. The only word she could use to describe that breathtaking moment.

Watching Vessel prance around, ii banging out on the drums, iii and his wild antics and screams towards the crowd, and iv- making the ladies scream with his sensual hand motions Truly a experience all should bare witness to. A taste of a drug, and she's addicted.

Every show that's near, she's there, front row with the brightest smile - swaying to each song and softly mumbling the lyrics word for word. Watching Sleep token live & up close has become her only means to de-stress.

It didn't take Vessel long to notice her. Sure, he's performed in many sold-out shows, seen many faces within the crowd- but seeing her front row during his concerts brings a joy he struggles to describe. He sometimes finds himself scanning the crowd in hopes of seeing her, though performing in a state too far for her to travel.

He's just as captivated as she is with him, if not more. The way her e/c eyes sparkle when he performs her favorite songs, the way her h/c hair aligns with the swaying of her hips, and how her smile brightens when she believes they've made eye contact- y/n can never tell due to his mask.

Vessel catches himself singing to her rather than the crowd. He can't help himself. Something about her is so alluring. At some point, he can no loner bare just watching her from the crowd. He wants y/n near, closer.

He proposes the idea of backstage passes, adding heavier security to keep things safer for everyone. iii is always the one doing most of the talking with fans while the other bandmates participate in taking photos. It isn't until the second to last fan leaves that Vessel's efforts finally paid off.

There she is, smile so bright, it's blinding. He's the first to approach her, hands clasp together in thanks as he nods his head to her.

"Oh my gosh, Hi! Uh- hello! I'm a huge fan. I hate that I haven't discovered you guys sooner. Your music is amazing, I love what you guys do! I try to come to every show to gather in worship with you all!" She geeks, rambling nervously.

Vessel watches her, his heart light & full of joy. He chuckles, "Yes. I've noticed."

Silence.

His bandmates are surprised, but y/n looks as if she's about to faint. Vessel doesn't speak directly, nor indirectly to the fans. Its apart of his persona as 'Vessel'. Nevertheless, why did he speak to her out of all the fans he's encountered today?

"Y-Y-You have?" She gulps, stammering over her words.

He smiles, taking the pen and notepad from her hands. "Yeah. It's hard to forget a smile as bright as your own." He said, writing his autograph as well as a little note only meant for her eyes.

The others share a look from behind their mask, walking up to the two. iii grins, giving y/n a side hug while signing the next page. ii and iv following suit while iii does most of the talking. Vessel stays near, a smile tugging at his lips. The sparking joy in her eyes makes his heart leap.

Y/N turns back to Vessel, a blush growing on her cheeks. She's gotten a picture with all the other members, except him. "U-Uh...can- I mean, may I have a picture?" She didn't forget the compliment made about her smile.

He nods, moving to stand next to her and places his hands together. He keeps a good distance, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. Once the picture is taken, Y/N gives her thanks that turns into rambles again. Noticing this, Adam comes over to inform y/n that time is up.

"Oh! I'm sorry! I know you guys must be exhausted. Thank you...so much!" She smiles, about to turn away.

Vessel stops her, placing his hand on her shoulder. She turns to look at him, eyes wide. "I'll... see you at our next show, right?"

Y/N still isn't used to Vessel talking so freely like this - she'll never be. With a quick nod, she says, "Well, duh! Front row, too!"

He laughs, her enthusiasm contagious. "Looking forward to it." He hums, waving as she leaves.

iii is the first to speak up, "mate, what the hell was that?"

Vessel turns to them, shrugging with a grin. "She waited all that time to meet us. Wanted to give her something worthwhile."

ii nods, understanding his reasoning - but that grin of his tells a different story. "Right... but be careful. Some fans can be pretty -"

"Yeah, yeah." Vessel waves him off, still feeling giddy from finally being able to properly meet you, talk to you.

iv grins, putting two and two together but stays quiet. He, to, has noticed your familiar face in the crowd of their shows. He knows true devotion when he sees it. This goes beyond loyalty. This runs deeper. Whatever Vessel is planning, he's sure it's for the betterment of her as well as himself.

Y/N makes it home, heart full of happiness. She rushes to her room to share her time with yet the same guy mentioned before - the one who knows her better than she knows herself. However, he wasn't amused. He showed no signs in wanting to share her joy. He does that, showing no enthusiasm when it comes to anything he doesn't like - Sleep Token being on that list.

With each passing text, her excitement & joy die down - turning stolis. Wish a heavy sigh, she places her phone down, curling up in bed. She should cut ties with him. They have no future together, so why hold on to hopeless love?

Time.

So much time has been invested into this person. Starting over is out of the question. Going through opening up, being vulnerable to another potential partner isn't a option. Y/N doesn't want to risk having to bare yet another broken heart.

She holds her notepad close to her chest before opening it, smiling sadly at their signatures- until looking at Vessel's. Her eyes nearly bug out of her sockets. She traces her fingers over the writing in complete shock.

".....why would he...me? Of all people.." she questions while staring at the phone number written under his name.

"It's a joke...has to be..."

But Vessel wouldn't joke about this. He wouldn't joke about the risk of exposing his identity. Though a leak did take place, it didn't blow completely out of proportion. However, the Sleep Token members did have to go radio silent until the mess died down.

.....so why would Vessel risk it happening again?

Being skeptical, y/n grabs her phone - putting the number in before shooting a text. "This isn't a real number. As if he'd - "

Her breath is caught in her throat at the immediate reply.

"How long were you going to keep me waiting?"

"....there's no way I'm texting THE Vessel from Sleep token."

[Image attached] "Believe me now?"

"AAAAHHHHHOUVVY8C8RX7RXT- NO WAY!"

Vessel sent an image of himself in their tour van still dressed in his costume, about to prepare for bed. Y/N's head is reeling. This can't be real. It has to be a dream - a sick twisted dream. She gulps, grabbing her phone and gathering courage to read his replies.

"💀"

"I didn't scare you off, did I?"

"Come back, love. I promise I don't bite."

"This is a dream. This whole day is a DREAM! THIS CONVERSATION ISN'T REAL!"

"Its not-"

"IT IS!"

"Love, breathe. This is real. I'm real."

"Ok...ok, I'm breathing, but..why? Why text me? Why even give me, a fan, your number? For all you know, I could leak this and cause from really bad damage."

"Are you?"

"Of course not! I'm just making a part here!"

"I see...well, it's alright. This is a burner phone anyways😊"

"I-"

"🤓 I'm smart enough to know how to cover my tracks."

"Oh? So this isn't the first time you've done this?"

"No love, you're the only one.😇"

"Don't believe you.😕"

"Would looking through my phone help defend my case?"

"Hm...maybe-"

"🚩🚩"

"Haha, very funny. Fucking hilarious🙄"

"🤣 jk jk. But it's late, you should rest."

"Not really sleepy🤷🏾"

"Really? You seemed pretty exhausted to me. Want to discuss what's keeping you up?"

Should she tell him? That's considered trauma dumping- right? Besides, they hardly know each other. She wouldn't want to waste a once in a lifetime moment by chasing him away. So with a heavy sigh, she replies -

"No, no, I'm ok! I'm sure you're far more drained! You were a ball of energy on stage today. You and the others deserve much needed rest! I'll leave you be now, bye!"

And with that, she turns her phone off, to anxiety driven to dare leave him on open. She wouldn't get much sleep that night, still in disbelief of what took place. Nothing about her is that special, so it's hard to believe when he said she's the only one. Maybe looking through his phone will give her a moment of clarity.

Vessel, on the other hand, has the biggest smile on his face. "Damn, she ran away."

iii looks over, taking off his mask. "Who?"

"...bloody hell I didn't ask for her name." Vessel huffs, tossing his burner phone aside as he prepares for a quick, much needed shower.

iv raises a brow, "That girl from earlier? You gave her your number?"

Vessel smiles, looking at his bandmates. "Maaaaaaybe?" Before they can question him further, he dashes away to the bathroom.

Though, after his shower, he's faced heavy interrogation. ii & iii let up only a bit after being told it's a burner phone number. , however, r is still suspicious. Why is his friend being so friendly with a random fan? What about her makes her importance?

It's the next morning, You didn't get any rest. How can you? You're still questioning if last night was a dream, so you grab your phone - turning it on. Her heart thumps as her cheeks grow red.

"Wait, you don't have to share if you don't want to."

"I apologize for intruding."

"Rest well."

"Good morning, love."

"What's with the nickname?"

"Well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

"My bad, good morning. What's up with the nickname?😐"

"If I say it's a British thing, would you buy it?"

"No.😐😑😐😑"

"🤣 I don't know your name."

You sigh heavily, pitching the bridge of your nose. Why are you being so rude? Maybe because of the little sleep you got, thanks to a certain someone.

"Oh... right, it's Y/N"

Vessel smiles at her message, finding her feisty & sarcastic messages to be amusing. He hopes he gets to experience this side of her in person. He wants to witness all sides of what makes her - her.

"Pretty name, love. I gtg- just made it to our next stop. I'm looking forward to seeing you gather with us in worship🙏🏻"

You don't reply, needing to get ready to see them again, front row. She's eager to see them perform again. However, her mood is quickly soured by a message from him.

"Another dry text...if he doesn't want to talk.. he should say that.."

She gulps, debating on replying or not. How does one reply to an 'ok' text? So with a heavy heart, she leaves him on open - something she's never done in all the time she's known him. Whenever their conversations run randomly dry, she would send memes or funny videos in hopes it'll start a conversation- but it never does.

A few days before the concert, he tried sexting her, but she wasn't in the mood. It happens sometimes, and normally, he'll bounce back and understand. But this time feels different, like he placed a wall up all because she wasn't in the mode. Maybe leaving him on read will make him see how hurt she is.

Once ready, she drives two hours to the next town - booking her hotel. She gets there hours before the show starts, watching the team continue their set ups. There's only a handful of people there, most still at work since it is a weekday. She doesn't notice that Vessel is watching her from backstage.

Immediately, he knows something is off. The sparkling light in her eyes dimmed. He raises a brow at you, continuing to check your phone only for your eyes to dim even more. She's sad, and he's eager to know what or who is causing it. He just wants to see her smile again.

His bandmates notice his stare, their eyes locking onto you. "Mate, you look like a lost puppy dog," iii snickers.

"She looks sad..." Ves said, pouting.

"Obviously," ii points out.

iv sighs, turning up his guitar. "Then let's do what we do best." He nods.

And they did, performing for the crowd while Vessel performed for her. He can't help the smile that grows from seeing your own. It truly brings a joy that he can't comprehend.

The show went on without a hitch, the crowd cheering with gratitude as Vessel bows. He moves in front of you, bending to one knee with his hands clasp together in thanks. He stays in that position for a few seconds before raising his head, catching sight of your breath taking - dazzling smile.

The view almost makes him break character. He stands, giving the crowd one last bow before leaving the stage - sparing you one last glance before disappearing behind the curtains. A sigh of triumph leaves his lips as he sits down, his crew gathering around and packing things up.

"Her smile is pretty bright." iv admits.

"Did you hear the way she screamed at me? That girl knows how to play the bit." iii grins.

- The classic "ARE YOU IN PAIN LIKE I AM?! -

- iii "I don't think so" -

Vessel opens his mouth to reply, but he hears a 'ding' come from his burner phone that's laid on a table behind him. He picks it up, face lighting up under his mask at the sight of your name on his screen.

"Be careful now, Bowing and smiling at me like that. Wouldn't want word spreading of you having favorites🤭"

"A message from your sunshine already?" iii grins, looking over his shoulder.

Vessel reaches back, placing his hand on his face to push him back playful. "For my eyes only, mate." He chuckles, shooting a reply.

"I have to display my gratitude for your loyalty towards us."

Vessel almost slipped up and said 'towards me,' but he didn't want to make you uncomfortable.

She smiles, now in her hotel room. She takes a quick shower and settles for bed before replying to him.

"Well, regardless, you guys have made my days a lot more brighter. I wish I had discovered you guys sooner. 🥺"

Vessel didn't reply right away. He took a shower and made his way to the let out bed within their tour van. When comfortable, he opens your message, smiling. But he remembers that distance look in your eyes, a look of hurt shadowed by her forced smile. Something happened. He's eager to know what or who caused you pain, but again, he doesn't want to overstep.

"Thank you, love, but I have to ask. Is everything alright?"

"What do you mean?"

"You seemed...off. I don't know you well, but I know pain when I see it. If you want to share....I wouldn't be opposed to listening."

You feel a bit...blindsided. You're known for being able to mask your pain very well. Its apart of your 'tough girl' act after all. You two don't know each other personally, but for him to see right through you is astonishing. Only one person has been able to do that....and he hasn't sent a text just to check in. Vessel gave her the opportunity to open up, but her instinct is to reject it automatically.

"Nothing is wrong, but thank you for asking! I'm just a bit jet lagged from driving most of the day. Well, it's getting late, and you have a show to do so rest up! Goodnight🤗"

She places her phone down with a heavy heart, curling up in her bed as she sighs. It's ironic how the one that checked in on her isn't the guy she was hoping to do that.

Vessel, too, places his phone down - heart oddly tight. He isn't sure why he has such a longing attraction towards you, but he's eager to know more about you - and to witness more of your blinding smile.

•

•

•

•

°

°

°

°

A week turns into a month and a month into a year. Vessel & you have gotten closer. You also have gotten to know the other bandmates quite well. iii is a ball of energy that's always ready to start some shenanigans. ii and iv are more mellow but hold great conversation.

Then there's Vessel. You don't want to admit it, but you found yourself beginning to develop feelings for him. His laugh, silly jokes, and his smile brightens your day. The way he comforts you and is able to tell when you aren't in the best of moods sets your heart ablaze.

Unfortunately, you live in the United States and him in the United Kingdom. Most interactions are done over the phone or video chat. It isn't until you obtain a visa to live in the United Kingdom for a whole year that you've gained more time to spend with them.

But once again, your attention is focused elsewhere. It didn't take Vessel and the others to realize that your attention seems to be stuck on a man you can't seem to let go of. They've tried to get you to open up about him, but you'll brush them off - saying over and over that it's no big deal.

It was only a matter of time before Vessel lost his patience with you. He would've waited, for as long as it took, but the end of your visa is nearing - and the thought of you running into the arms of another man pushed him over the edge. He's longed acknowledged his feelings towards you. He would show his affection discreetly and make jokes on what it'll be like if you two were together. He just wishes you'd give him a chance.

Though you two are on a silent treatment, that didn't stop him from allowing you to attend band practice for their upcoming UK tour. But just like every other band practice, your face is in your phone - tears would sometimes build in your eyes until you look up and force a smile to push the tears back down. The lump in your throat would continue to fill until you rush home and cry yourself to sleep.

And here you are, repeating the cycle. This guy has yet to check in to see if you're well after you left him on open for the second time. Once again, his dry replies leave your heart aching. Two nights before, he was trying to engage in sexting with you once more, and you turned him down. You weren't in the mood. All you wanted was conversation, but he wouldn't give you that.

For the first time in the many years you've known him, you feel used - tossed away when you didn't give him what he wanted. It hurts. The pain makes your heart burn and fill with agonizing loneliness that's too much for you to bare. A lone tear slips from your eyes, bringing an abrupt halt to Sleep Token's band practice.

"Who do I need to go fuck up aye?" iii huffs angrily, stretching his long limbs.

"Huh?" You question, not realizing a tear fell from your eye.

"You're crying..." ii points out with iv joining your side.

You force a tight smile, waving them off as you set your phone down. "I'm fine, you guys! I-I just uh...saw a sad video on snapchat, that's all! Keep playing. You guys are doing amazing!" You cheer, not fooling anyone.

The band shares a look of worry, Ves finally speaking up. "Let's take a break. Why don't you guys go grab pizza? I'll set up Elden Ring."

The three picked up what Vessel is putting down. He wants to be alone with you. iii grins, nodding his head as his long legs take him out of the room. ii & iv follow behind.

"Oh wait I'll go with-"

"Nah, we're good! Can't leave Ves alone for too long, or he'll 'accidentally' break or get stuck in something." iii snickers, further pushing the theory of Vessel being a cat at heart.

"Fuck off!" He laughs, shooing them away.

The moment they're gone, the tension rises instantly - becoming too suffocating. Vessel looks as calm as he can be while setting up the game, while you look stressed & bothered. You take in a deep breath, glancing down at your phone to still see no messages from the man you're still trying to hold onto.

She releases a shakey sigh, the lump in her throat building. This isn't fair. She invested so much of her time, so much of her heart into this person. Why is he suddenly treating you this this? It hurts. It hurts it -

"It hurts." You say aloud, drawing Vessel's attention.

"What hurts love?" He asked, moving to sit cross leg on the ground in front of the tv - his back turned to her.

"My heart...it hurts. I put so much time into him. Time I can't get back! It isn't fair! I don't give him what he wants, and he just tosses me to the side?! He had never been like this before! I-I just..." her throat closes in, her eyes beginning to build with tears.

Ves keeps his eyes trained on the screen, trying to defeat a boss. "Keep going, I'm listening." He said calmly, wanting you to get it all out. He wants you to finally open yourself up to him. He's been aching to cross this line with you.

She bites her lip, shaking her head as she sniffles. The thought of having to start over, be vulnerable again to someone else, is far too scary. She can't. She won't. She swallows the lump with force, blinking her tears away. You can't handle being rejected anymore.

So you smile, a smile Vessel has grown to hate. A smile used to mask your pain while your eyes screamed for mercy. He's not your hero, nor is he a savior - but he's willing to do what he can to fill your world back up with the joy you deserve.

"No..N-No it's nothing. I'm fine."

Hearing that, he pauses the game, standing to his feet. He turns to you, walking towards you. You raise a brow, reminded of the height difference between you two as he gets closer. You take a few steps backward, feeling the atmosphere shift to something... you're unfamiliar with but not apposed to.

"Whoa- what are you -"

He places his hands on your shoulders, carefully pushing you against the wall. You're not given a chance to process what's happening. His lips now press against your own. Your eyes widen, body frozen in shock - but you don't push him away. Vessel moves closer, one hand moving to your waist and the other to her cheek - making you tilt your head to kiss him back.

This...isn't anything you've experienced before. His hands are rough, yet his touch is so light, feathery. He pulls you even closer, body pressing against your own. He deepens the kiss, hoping to convey his feelings through this - praying they finally reach you.

You feel yourself melt against him, closing your eyes as you kiss him back - the shock fading. You fall deep into his tenderness, his touch so serene. Most men are forceful when it comes to their advances towards you. You thought that's how it's supposed to be. You weren't shown the rights and wrongs of dating. Therefore, you experienced so much hurt - feeling pressured to please your partners until you can't take it anymore.

Never once have you had a man touch you as if you were the finest glass - a man holding you so gently as if you were a porcelain doll. This....is all so new. A lone tear slips your eye, your heart exploding with so many buried wounds and fragments kept deep inside - too scared to face, but Vessel brought them out with a simple kiss.

He pulls away, chuckling at her daze expression. He moves his thumb over her eyelashes, drying her tear away. She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. A part of her feels light, calm - but the other is hurting, trying to twist this intimate moment into something it's not.

"Why?" Y/N question as he pulls further away. "Why did you do that?"

"I've been pining for you since the moment I saw your beautiful smile. That smile sparked something in me. The joy in your eyes made me smile. I wanted to know more about you, see more of you, and get to know you." He sighs, shaking his head. "But you continued to turn me away, your foucs stuck on someone who doesn't deserve your fragile - clement heart."

Vessel steps back, moving to sit back down on the ground - resuming his game. He figures you'd need a moment to process his words, and you did. However, that other part of you is polluting your thoughts - telling you he's feeding you lies. No man can show such genuine emotion without hinting at a ulterior motive.

"Stop...stop lying to me, Ves. Don't feed me false hope!"

"What reason would I have to lie?" He questions, not turning away from the screen. "I risked so much just to have you this close to me. iv could've been right. I could've ruined this band by being so open and willing to let you into our world, my world. You could've exposed so much of us, but you dudnt. And that...that made me fall more for you, love." He pauses the game, turning around to look at her but doesn't leave his spot on the ground. "All I want in return...is for you to trust me. Trust me with your heart Y/N. Open yourself to m-"

"I can't!" Y/N shout, the tears breaking way - your sobs racking through your body. "I just can't! I can't start over! It hurts too much! I've been hurt... so many times, Vessel. If I open up and get left again.. I-I don't think I'll be able to handle another heartbreak. Please just let me g-"

"I gave you a taste of what you deserve. Are you willing to give up so easily? I, too, have been hurt. I take what I've learned from that pain, heal, and continue with my life. Yes, it gets hard. Yes, some days are worse than others , but I push through. I push through in order to gain what I know I deserve. My love, you can do the same. Until you're able to, just lean on me."

His words only make her sob harder. He opens his arms, a smile on his lips. Her body moves on its own, moving onto his lap and allowing him to hold you as you cry onto him - opening up about everything.

"We're only human, love. We're flawed creatures. We aren't meant to be strong all the time. You should've never been placed in those positions you were forced into. You deserve to be pampered, loved, and cared for. You aren't an object for men's pleasure. You're a woman who desires love. Nothing is wrong with that."

You nod, leaning your head up to look at him. "I'm sorry..." Y/N whisper.

"What for?"

"That stupid argument, undermining your feelings, and just overall being so mean to you at times. You dont deserve that...gosh, I'm such a mess." You laugh, smiling sadly.

He smiles, bringing his hands up to dry her tears. "It's alright, I apologize for snapping at you. I just... couldn't take the thought of you leaving and returning to that...fucking jerk."

You giggle, his pout making your smile brighten. "You were jealous?"

"Yes! Your face would sometimes be in that phone, wanting for that idiot to reply to you with something meaningful! Bloody hell, I almost snatched your phone so many times." He grumbles.

You lean forward, pecking his lips. "I'm sorry. I'll block him...for real this time. It's time to let go...."

Vessel stares down at her, her smile making his heart skip and eyes fill with so much adoration towards her. "Be mine."

Your heart skips, but your happiness dies down as quickly as it comes. "I want to...I want to give you a chance, but I have to leave to the US. You have another tour coming up. I don't think -"

"No. I'll make it work. We'll make it work. I've waited so long for you, and I won't let you slip through my fingers. Not anymore."

He captures your lips again. This kiss filled with passion yet holds so much gentleness. Both melt into the other, their feelings finally reaching the one another. Vessel's patience and understanding have truly paid off. You will work on yourself. You will work to become the best version of yourself, not only for yourself - but for Vessel too. The both of you deserve happiness and a life full of love.

"Ahem." iii clears his throat, a cheeky grin on his face. "Ooolala! Did we interrupt a precious moment? ii you got that on video, right?"

"Yup." He said, still holding up his phone.

iv holds his hands up, displaying he has no part in their antics. Vessel huffs, gently moving you off his lap. He pecks your forehead before charging at iii, chasing him around the room - eventually wrestling him. ii would join in, feeling iii out numbered, but Ves doesn't back down.

You laugh at their shenanigans, iv moving next to you to watch as well. "I should apologize."

"For?" You question him with a smile.

"For misjudging you. He's been happier ever since encountering you. You have my thanks." He nods.

Your smile widens, heart swelling with no much joy you can barely take it. She can't remember the last time she's felt this light. "No, no, I understand. Some fans are just badshit crazy. You're just looking out for your friend."

Ves gives up, walking back over to you and lays his head on your shoulder. "Fuckers." He grumbles, hearing them laugh and tease the two of you.

You giggle, kissing his cheek. "I'm sure a bit of food will fix you right up."

He beams, making a dash into the kitchen. He knows if iii gets his hand on the food first - he'll swallow everything whole. Soon, everyone is sitting at the table, talking about the upcoming tour and your departure from them until your visa is renewed.

Though you'll miss them terribly, you'll be leaving on such a high. Having made friends with her favorite band and opening yourself to Vessel has been the highlight of your life.

Every day will now appear far more brighter, thanks to that illuminating smile of yours that started it all.

《 I just want to put a disclaimer. Though I love Sleep token, I'm not some crazed fan that ships myself nor write fanfics or sumt of the members on a daily Occurrence. (No shame to the ones that do. That's just not my cup of tea) I was going through a rough patch of loneliness and decided to watch live shows of them on YouTube to help ease that pain. I ended up falling asleep by doing so - hence the dream I had. Only the second part is my dream. The first half is just a story building.

《 Thank you all that read this, and I hope it helps any lonly girlies out there that are turn to Sleep Token for comfort.

《 Likes and repost are very much appreciated. Much love to you all! 🫶🏾❤️🖤🩶🤍

[theunholybastard]

Kinktober: October 12th - Sex Toys (Papa Emeritus I x Female!Reader)

Tags: Dom!Primo, Sex Toys, Fingering, Anal Play, (Light) Temperature Play, Orgasm Denial, Begging, Edging, Dacryphilia, Age Gap, 1st Person POV

There are benefits to being Primos favorite. Out of the many men and women he calls to his chambers on those lonely nights, I am the one he holds the most dear, the one that he invites to warm his bed the most. Sure, it rouses jealousy from Siblings and Ghouls who are vying for Papas attention, but I could care less when I'm snuggled in his arms, basking in the afterglow of our late night endeavors.

With age, his sexual escapades have declined along with his libido. After a lifetime of fucking, he's not too keen to experiment anymore, wanting nothing more than to just lay back and get whatever partner he chooses for the night to slowly rock back and fourth his cock. It's still nice to indulge in sins of the flesh every so often, even if his age doesn't allow him to cum every time anymore. Making his partners cum is the greatest reward he could receive, viewing the act as his own personal worship, each orgasm an offering to Asmodeus.

When Primo shot me a look during black mass, the same look he always gives me when he wants me in his bed as soon as possible, I didn't think tonight would be anything special. I arrived later that evening, immediately reaching for his cock hidden underneath his robes, but he gently grabbed my hand, stopping me. "No need, cara mia. Papa wants to please you tonight." He purrs, guiding me to the bed. "I'd like to try something new. Will you allow me, mia piccola fiore?"

I was a little surprised he wanted to switch things up, but I was more than willing, quite curious to see what he had in mind. I nod in agreeance, stripping myself of my clothing and laying on the bed with my legs spread, ready for him to do what he wishes. He starts out warming me up with his fingers, nothing unusual, but still feels so incredibly good every single time. His hands are skilled, the decades of experience he had under his belt showing. He gets me so close to the precipice, but the moment I warn him, he pulls away. I found it strange, considering usually he loved to make me cum, as quickly as possible, and as many times as possible. But I suppose he did say he wanted to try something different, right?

He licked my arousal off his fingers, groaning softly at the taste. He shuffles off the bed with an exasperated grunt, looking through his bedside drawer and pulling out a sizable black box. He smirks, opening the box and taking out a small, phallic shaped object; a vibrator. I blush, restraining myself from kicking my feet in gleeful excitement. Turning it on to its lowest setting, he places it on my clit, making me let out a pleasured squeal. I was already sensitive from his fingers, causing a shock of ecstasy to shoot directly to my core. Primo snickers at my reaction, clearly receiving all the satisfaction he wanted just by watching me wriggle against the hunk of plastic.

He switched to a higher setting, his grin only growing the louder I moan. "Do you want to try another, cara?" His voice rumbles in his chest, my cunt clenching around nothing. "Y-you have more?" I ask, bewildered. "Many more. Pick one." He nods. With the box now sat beside me, I reach a shaky hand inside, feeling around, the vibrating on my sex making it significantly harder to concentrate. I pull out something long and ice cold to the touch; a ribbed glass dildo, clearly meant for anal pleasure. I shudder.

"You want to try that one, mia trioa? You want me to pump that inside you while the vibrator is still on your pretty little clit?" He muttered, his hot breath hitting my skin, making all the hairs on my body stand up. "Yes!" I cry out desperately, my body screaming for any sort of penetration, no matter where it was or what was doing it.

He inserts the toy inside my ass, thoroughly lubed up prior, of course. The sudden sharp coolness of it makes me tense up, but after a few soft thrusts, I start to get used to the feeling, relaxing myself. He moves it in and out at an agonizingly slow pace, going deeper and deeper inside of me, my breath hitching with every inward push. The vibrator, now on the highest setting, has me downright convulsing, both sensations mixing together in an overwhelming amalgamation of pleasure.

"Papa, oh f-fuuck! I'm- i'm gonna cum!" I pant, the familiar feeling creeping up once again. Primo stops his ministrations, the vibrator suddenly turned back to the lowest setting, my sweet bliss ripped away cruelly once again. He clicks his tongue mockingly. "Beg. Beg for release." He gravels, his voice thick with lust. This was so far off from how he usually was with me, but that doesn't mean that this wasn't so fucking hot. Hot and frustrating, but more so hot.

"P-please Papa, please! I- I'll do anything, just please fucking let me cum! F-fuck, I love you, Papa, make me cum!" The admission came out spontaneously, so desperate and pleasure-centered that my mouth developed a mind of its own. Primo was taken aback. Sure, we both knew that we had developed a mutual care and respect for each other, but this was purely a sexual relationship, no love or exclusivity whatsoever. My cheeks reddened in embarrassment, Primos once lustful expression molds into one of poorly concealed shock. Then, an unreadable twinkle in his eyes. He sets the vibrator back on its maximum setting, plunging the dildo back inside of me.

My eyes roll back, face contorted tightly at the continuation of my pleasure. Tears start to form in the corner of my eyes, streaming down my cheeks as quickly as they developed, overstimulated and needy. My orgasm builds up, quicker than last time, my brain fogged and fuzzy, everything in my reality starting to slowly fade and distort. "Cum." Is all Primo says, and I can feel myself finally let go, surrendering to the sensations he was bringing me. It hit me so much harder than usual, after being denied release for so long.

Coming down from my blissful high, he turns off the vibrator, slowly inching the dildo out of me, setting the two toys down. He leans over me, and when I think he's about to tenderly wipe away my tears, he instead obscenely licks them from my cheeks. I shiver at the wetness of his tongue, the shockwaves of my orgasm still running though my veins, causing involuntary muscle spasms. My eyes flutter shut, the unrelenting grasp of sleepiness pulling me away. Primo tucks a blanket over me, sitting beside me with a strained huff.

"I love you too, you know that, piccola fiore?" He whispers earnestly, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of my head. I hum contently, already drifting off. I don't know exactly what he means, if he loves me in a platonic sense, or returns my romantic affections. That's a question I'll have to delve further into in the morning, his arms pulling me into a firm, comforting hold, lulling me to sleep. Oh, the benefits of being Primos favorite.

-

[bihanspookies]

Could you do headcanons of Ghost, Gaz, Soap and Graves challenging the reader to marksman contest? (You can choose who wins in each)

Forgive me, bc I am not a Graves girly so I turned to the best Graves fucker I know @chadillacboseman for assistance

Regardless I hope you enjoy 🫡

Ghost

• Congratulations! You almost caused a mission to go straight into hell and your Lieutenant was pissed. It was an accident really, what should’ve been a single headshot turned into one grazing the enemy’s head and then another that hit where it was supposed to in the first place.

• Ghost had pulled you aside back at base, questioning your skills and if you were actually competent enough to be a soldier.

• Of course you were competent enough! If you weren’t you wouldn’t be here now would you? But your LT seems to think otherwise, putting you to a test to see if you could get a better score than him.

“You get a better score, I’ll let you off the hook and won’t put this in your file. Understood?”

You gave a firm yes, loading your gun and waiting for Ghost to go first. You barely clicked it into place before he started to unload all his bullets into the target, all of them right on or near the center.

He turns to you, expressionless and places his gun on the table. He says nothing except crosses his arms over his broad chest and that’s when you realize he’s waiting for you to go.

You scramble back into your booth, slipping your earmuffs and protective goggles on. You grab your gun and point, taking a deep breath to steady yourself before you fire off.

Of course the first one is massively off course, having you internally curse before slapping yourself mentally to get your head in the game. You wanted to look good in front of your Lieutenant, show him that you were meant to be here but he was making it increasingly hard with his intimidating presence.

Steadily you regained yourself, focusing your attention on the target and you let the bullets loose. Not quite as great as Ghost but close enough. You slipped your earmuffs around your neck, turning back to look at him and waiting for his feedback. He simply stared at you, saying nothing before handing you more bullets.

“Again.”

Gaz

• It can’t just be work work work on the base, you gotta have some fun too every once in a while.

• You guys were chugging a few beers, still buzzing from an earlier mission that went off without a hitch. So naturally he asks if you want to head to the range for a little ‘friendly competition’.

• It was friendly in the beginning until he realized that you were slowly getting better shots than him. Quicker than quick he sobered up.

“Just a little ‘friendly competition’ hm?” You teased, watching him concentrate as he puts another hole right in the center of the target. He laughs, removing his earmuffs and giving you one of his famous smiles.

“What can I say? You just bring out the competitor in me, darling.”

You can’t help but chuckle, giving a pat on his back before going back to it and determined to get a better score.

You’re still there about an hour later, neither of you letting up and wanting the other to win.

“Last round, love?” Gaz says, reloading his gun before stepping back into his booth.

“Oh scared that I’m going to beat you?” You can’t help but poke fun him, his beautiful eyes sparkling in amusement as a fit of laughter escapes him.

“Terrified.”

In less than a minute both your pistols are empty, Gaz pulling in the sheets that was were chock full of holes. He rips his off and holds it up to compare to yours.

“Just as I suspected.”

You go to his side to look, ready to rub your victory in his face.

“A tie!”

He smiles at you and you can’t help but smile back, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Next time I’ll be the winner, love.” He winks at you, resting his head on top of yours.

Soap

• You were outside practicing, needing to let off some steam after a not so friendly review from your captain. Your shots were wild and off center, too consumed by your frustration to actually try and get good hits in.

• You don’t even hear Soap come up behind you and watch as you shoot bullet after bullet, making him wince every time you missed.

• After a while he finally had enough, catching you when you emptied your gun by placing a soft but firm hand on your shoulder.

“Jesus bonnie, you’re shootin’ like shit out here.” He tries to make you laugh, sensing the tension in your body. You only shake him off and groan, going back to reload your gun before he stops you again.

“C’mon now, let’s do this properly yeah?” He fixes your stance, body behind yours as he guides your movements and gives you pointers right in your ear.

“Just. Breathe.”

Your shots are better sure but that doesn’t make you any less upset and he can tell. He grabs your attention once more, a look of concern on his face.

“Tell you what darling, you get a better score than me I’ll let you buy me dinner.”

That makes you crack a smile, tilting your head in confusion as you hear his proposition.

“Shouldn’t it be you that buys me dinner if I win?”

He grins wide at you, winking before grabbing his own gun and getting ready to aim and fire. Later when both your targets are full of holes, you can already tell he’s won before even seeing it up close. Your mood sours again but you do your best to hide it.

“So, where would you like to go for dinner?” He asks you, making you look at him in confusion.

“But I lost?”

“Aye, and I won. So now I get to treat you out to dinner. Again I ask, where would you like to go?”

Graves

• Now what were you thinking accepting a challenge from Graves of all people. Have you seen how cocky and arrogant he is, of course he’s gonna go all out in this.

• Shows off his skills because if you didn’t pick it up already, he’s doing this to impress you (don’t ask about his backwards logic that to impress you he’s gonna kick your ass)

• He can and WILL use pet names bc one he’s a flirt and two he wants to try and throw you off your game.

“C’mon sweetheart just a quick game, just you n me, out in the woods and shooting the shit. Whaddya say?” He’s got his hands on his hips, a confident smirk, and his rifle perched on his back. You roll your eyes so hard that you see stars but you can’t deny that his smug attitude and that good ol’ Southern charm does tug at your curiosity.

Sure you were a good shooter but were you good enough to beat him?

Short answer is: no

But damn if you didn’t have Graves sweating in his boots when it was your turn. Especially when you were so far hitting every can without even breathing.

“C’mon baby c’mon baby…” He’s muttering to himself, watching as you set up to take the final shot at a swinging can. He’s counting on the wind and his own presence to distract you and throw you off guard.

He almost wanted to hold back his yell of glee when your bullet grazed the can instead of sniping it clean off. Instead he settled for a very sarcastic and fake sound of disappointment.

“Fuck darlin’, sure is a shame.” He puts his hands on his hips and shakes his head, tutting his tongue before turning to you with a big smile.

“Now about that bet.”

“We didn’t make a bet.”

“Oh, didn’t we? Well I won and I’m saying we did so.” He pretends to inspect his nails before looking you up and down, shamelessly ogling you.

“I got a few ideas in mind for this winner.”

[iovemoonyy]

Diego lainez bf - wearing his jesery to his game and him dedicating a goal to you making you go crazy and love him even more pls

— ☆ 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐘 !!

diego lainez x fem!reader

sypnosis; you wear diego's jersey to his game and he dedicates a goal to you making you fall in love with him once again.

warnings; none, just pure fluff, short

authors note; so sorry for taking so long to post this, I've been having horrible writers block but I decided to work through it. hope you enjoy it !!

navigation. soccer player masterlists.

you had been choosing an outfit to wear to you boyfriend's soccer game against usa. you had ultimately decided on wearing his jersey. you could already imagine the huge smile on his face at the sight of you wearing his jersey when he looks at you sitting in the bleachers.

you paired the jersey with some jeans and pinned your hair up with a clip. you grabbed everything you needed before leaving the house and driving to the stadium, diego was already there due to him having to be their early. you had finally got to the stadium and you were sitting on the bleachers next to Karla, Memo's wife.

ever since you'd known her, you admired her and Memo's relationship. the way they were with each other was so precious and wholesome. It was as if no matter how much time passed, they're love only got stronger by the day.

of course, you knew what that type of love felt like but you were still young but you only hoped that you and Diego would make that far in your relationship and even more. you loved him so much and losing him was never something you could imagine. you couldn't even imagine your life before he came in it.

three years ago when you met him through mutual friends, immediately hitting it off well. for months after that night, all you could do was text each other. you started hanging out then going on dates and soon enough he had worked up the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend.

you, of course, said yes to him. how could you not, he was an amazing guy. he had every quality that only someone so perfect could have. he was sweet, caring, a gentleman, respectful, attractive. he was quite literally perfect in your eyes.

it was almost the end of the game, diego had looked your way multiple times but none of his reactions gave you a hint that he noticed the jersey yet. he had been very concentrated on the game and he had been doing amazing. the game was tied with with both teams having two points.

a player from usa had the ball with diego hot on his heels. one of diego's teammates went to get steal the ball but instead just bumped into the usa player. that ended up with diego getting the ball since the usa player had been pushed away from it.

diego ran with ball, with only 1 minute left of the game. he ran as fast a possible to the goal, 45 seconds. a player tried to stealing the ball only for diego to pass it to his teammate, 30 seconds. he continued running towards the goal and his teammate passed the ball towards him again seeing he had a clear shot, 15 seconds.

diego caught the ball and before he kicked it towards the goal he looked over at you and winked, making you smile and blush like crazy. he then kicked the ball hoping that it made it in before the time ran out. right as the clock hit one, the ball made it into the net, securing mexico's win. you and Karla stood up cheering as loud as possible.

diego looked up and scanned the crowd until his eyes landed on you. he smiled so brightly at you, you could've sworn his cheeks probably hurt. he finally took in your appearance and realized that you had his jersey on. his heart almost burst but his stare was cut short when his teammates all ran towards him.

they all congratulated him on the goal and then they headed towards the lockers to get ready to leave with their families. you and karla waited for most people to leave then headed towards the lockers to wait for your lovers.

the both of you watched as players slowly started headed out, biding you goodbye after you congratulated them. memo and diego soon enough came out as well. after you and diego said your goodbyes to the couple, they headed out as well.

you could feel diego staring at you so you look at him with furrowed eyebrows, "what?" he smiled at you, his eyes filled with you so much love at he took in your appearance once again, "you look so beautiful with my jersey on."

you smiled at him, "I knew you'd love it." he grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers together as you both started walking out the stadium. "I very much do love it, amor," a slight blush covered your cheeks at the pet name he loved to call you so much. "you did so good today, you know. I'm really proud of you."

he smiled softly at your words, "well there was this really gorgeous girl out in bleachers so I had to impress her." you raised your eyes brows in a teasing manner, "oh yeah, do you think you impressed her enough to get her attention?"

he smirked, "oh yeah. she told me she was really proud of me." this moment was so simple but yet to the both of you it felt so special. you were both so young and in love. this was one special moment from many to come in the many years you two would spend together.

[cursed-nyxan]

What DnD characters the Touchstarved M5 would play*

*I made something similar not so long ago here. This is a little bit different because I feel like a few most of them would play a totally different character in a modern AU.

not a player

probably the only one who can concentrate long enough to keep track of whatever adventure module they're running, so he's the dungeon master

actually, voices NPCs quite well but keeps accidentally switching their accents

puts a lot of puzzles into the game, especially tailored for Vere

this guy is a heroic little shit

doesn't matter how many modules they go through; he insists on playing paladins, regardless of the race

SMITE SMITE SMITE SMITE

one time he multiclassed to sorcerer, but even he wasn't entirely sure if he liked it

never, ever takes notes during sessions

wears that "Yes, they are natural" shirt with the d20s to sessions

his presence is solely dedicated to turning everything into a competition with Leander

it led him to play paladins as well

later on found out he likes experimenting with different classes (probably prefers one-shots over full modules)

he would choose martials over casters cos he always forgets his spells

most likely to have absolutely no idea what happened in the previous sessions

doesn't take notes but can recall every single detail

sometimes even corrects Kuras

would enjoy being a caster so they either would go with wizard or arcane trickster rogue

eventually, they decide on cleric since there's no healer in the party (except Leander, but he uses all Lay on Hands on himself to go back into fights)

refuses to heal Vere

his primary mission is to fuck shit up

would enjoy playing bard, but refuses to flirt with the DM

instead, he just goes with rogue

plays tiefling every fckin time

would try multiclass to warlock

uses sneak attacks against the fellow party members too

doesn't like the point buy system so he always rolls for stats

actually, he rolls pretty well so always ends up being overpowered

[glittervame]

Lord and Savior

🌟-I got you babes, (For the rest of you send me requests!)

Harry Potter x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Low-key Reader being a Dick rider, Use of the Dark Lords name, Them both being little shits tbh, Smut (You're welcome), Brief editing (Really just skimming through), Angst for fun

I low-key want to try out pink fronting- (If you know you know, give me a request if that's something you want), A little fun fact about myself I hate Harry Potter as a person.

The Room of Requirement, a place where one could find anything they needed, had never been so unyielding. Its doors, once so accommodating, now refused to budge despite Harry and Y/n's every attempt. Trapped within its confines, the two enemies found themselves in a most unusual situation. They hated each other with a loathing passion; their rivalry spanning back years, fueled by jealousy and resentment, mostly because Harry found out that she was Draco Malfoys' cousin and that she was a death eater.

First, they kept themselves on opposite sides of the room not acknowledging each other's presence. Y/n had found herself perched on a throne of books she had made in the first three hours they were there, a vain attempt at feeling important and in control. Harry, on the other hand, had been pacing the room, running his fingers through his untidy hair over and over, coursing all of his decisions that led him up to right now.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they both spoke at the same time. "Do you want to play a game?" Y/n asked, her voice cold and emotionless. She knew she was better at games, it was one of the only things she was better at than him. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet. "Alright, let's play twenty questions."

They both thought about it for a moment. Twenty questions was a game they had both played before, a game where one person thought of something and the other person had to guess what it was by asking a total of twenty questions. It was a simple game, but they both knew it could get complicated, especially when they were both as good at it as they were.

"Fine," Harry said, his voice slightly less strained than before. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "Alright, I'll go first. Is it a person, place, or thing?"

Y/n smiled slightly, feeling a small thrill of anticipation. "It's a person." She answered, trying to keep her expression neutral.

Harry nodded, already forming a question in his mind. "Right, and are they living or dead?"

Y/n considered her answer for a moment before deciding. "Living."

Harry thought for a moment longer, his mind racing through a list of potential people they knew. "Is this person famous?"

Y/n hesitated. "Yes, they are quite famous."

Harry thought some more, narrowing down the list of possibilities in his mind. "Are they an actor or actress?"

Y/n smiled, feeling slightly triumphant. "No, they're not in the entertainment industry."

Harry's brow furrowed in concentration. "Are they a politician?"

Y/n's smile faded slightly. "Yes, they are."

Harry thought for a moment longer, trying to place the name. "Is this person from Britain, or from another country?"

Y/n thought about it for a moment. "They're from Britain."

Harry's eyes widened slightly as he finally figured it out. "Is it…is it Dumbledore?" he asked, almost afraid to say the name aloud.

Y/n's eyes narrowed in annoyance. "No, it isn't Dumbledore," she replied, her voice slightly sharper than she intended. "It's Voldemort." There was a pregnant pause as the words hung in the air between them. Harry looked at her, surprised by her answer. He hadn't expected her to say that. "But… why did you choose Voldemort?" he asked, unable to hide the confusion in his voice.

"He's our Lord and savior" She muses adjusting her sleeve to her green robes, Harry shot her a withering glare. "He is the one that will make the world great again" She continued, Harry snorted at that remark. "He's done so much for us, he's given us purpose, a reason to live, to fight, to be better than everyone else." She paused, taking a deep breath, her voice softening. "Filthy Mudbloods"

Harry rolled his eyes, finding her defense of Voldemort to be ironic, to say the least. "And all those people he's killed? The ones that were innocent?" He asked, anger and disgust seething beneath his calm exterior.

Y/n shrugged. "They were just casualties of war," she replied, her voice cold. "And they died for a greater cause. They died so that we could have a world free of muggles, free of those who Think they deserve a place in our world" She paused, her expression softening slightly. "Don't you see? Voldemort isn't just our leader, he's our hero. He's the one that's going to make the world a better place."

Harry felt a surge of anger course through him at her words. "You're deluded, you know that?" He spat. "He's a monster, and if you can't see that, then maybe you're just as bad as he is."

Y/n's face flushed with anger, her green eyes narrowing. "And what about you, Harry?" She hissed. "You're just a pathetic little tool. Defeated him once and think you're a big shot? You're nothing but a waste of space." She leaned in closer, her voice dripping with venom. "You're just like everyone else. Afraid of change, afraid of the future. Well, I'm not. I believe in Voldemort, and I'm willing to fight for what's right."

Harry felt a mixture of anger and pity for her. "You're just blind, Y/n," he said, his voice gentle despite the harsh words. "You don't know what he's really like. You don't know what he's capable of. You don't know the things he's done."

"Oh, and you do?" she snorted derisively. "You think you're so much better than him? You've done nothing but run away your whole life. You're just as much of a coward as everyone says you are."

Harry felt a flash of pain at her words, but he refused to let it show. "At least I've never killed innocent people," he retorted. "And I'll keep running away until I find a way to stop him."

Y/n laughed, the sound cold and mocking. "You'll never stop him," she said. "You'll never beat him. You're nothing but a pathetic loser, just like Dumbledore." She turned her back on him, walking away with her head held high. "Let everyone else deal with the issue so you don't have to," she added, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Harry felt a mixture of anger and hurt as he watched her leave. He knew she was wrong, but her words still stung. He knew he couldn't change her mind, not about Voldemort, not about anything. He sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. He knew he had to keep fighting, had to find a way to stop Voldemort before it was too late.

For the next hour Y/n had occupied herself by carving things with her knife, she was quite good at it, she'd had plenty of practice. She had always been good with her hands, something she had in common with Voldemort. The dark lord appreciated that about her. She didn't know what it was about the other Death Eaters, but she had always felt like she was different. Maybe it was because she had been raised by pure bloods, maybe it was because she had been trained by Voldemort himself. Whatever the reason, she knew she was special.

She paused for a moment, glancing over at Harry, who was still sitting on the ground, looking defeated. She sighed softly. He really was pathetic. He was weak, and he would never understand the power and the glory of Voldemort. It was a shame, really. If only he could see the truth, maybe he wouldn't be such a burden on the rest of them.

But she knew better. Harry Potter would always be a thorn in their side, a constant reminder of the world they were fighting to create. And so, she continued carving her knife, sharpening it, preparing for the battles to come. Because she knew that one day, they would win. They would defeat Harry Potter, and they would have a world free of muggles and mudbloods. A world where pure bloods ruled, where the strong survived and the weak perished.

Harry, on the other hand, remained lost in his own thoughts. He couldn't understand how Y/n could possibly support Voldemort. He knew how evil the dark lord was, how many innocent people he had killed. But Y/n, she seemed different. She seemed to have some sort of connection with him that Harry couldn't understand. He wondered if it was because she was raised by pure bloods, or if it was because she had been trained by Voldemort himself. Whatever the reason, he knew that she was dangerous.

"Harry," she purred, "I'm bored come play with me" her voice echoed around the room that was filled with clutter and dust. "Come find me" Harry could practically hear the smirk in her voice as she spoke. He knew that she was dangerous, and he knew that he shouldn't go near her, but he couldn't help but feel drawn to her.

She was beautiful, in a dark and twisted way. Her long, flowing hair framed her pale face perfectly, and her cold, eyes seemed to glow in the dim light her body was toned and athletic. Even though he knew better, he couldn't help but be attracted to her.

Harry slowly rose to his feet, feeling a mixture of fear and curiosity coursing through his veins. He took a tentative step forward, his eyes never leaving hers. "Y/n…" he whispered.

She smiled, revealing her sharp, pointed teeth. "I've been waiting for you, Harry," she purred, taking a step closer. "I knew you'd come." She reached out and ran a long, slender finger down his cheek, sending a shiver down his spine. "You're so much stronger than you think you are," she murmured, her voice low and hypnotic. "And I know we can be so much more together."

Harry swallowed hard, feeling her touch sending waves of desire coursing through his veins. He knew he shouldn't give in to her, but it was as if he had no control over his own body. He found himself stepping even closer, feeling the heat emanating from her like a living flame.

"You're right," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. He closed the distance between them, his hands reaching out to touch her face, to feel her skin beneath his fingers.

She moaned softly, arching into his touch, her hips pressing against his. "Harry," she breathed, her eyes fluttering shut. "You have no idea how much I've wanted this." Her lips parted, inviting him in, and he couldn't resist any longer. He leaned forward, cradling her face in his hands, and kissed her.

Her lips were as soft as he imagined, but there was a fierceness to her kiss that took him by surprise. She tasted like blood and desire, her tongue dancing with his, urging him on. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling the strength in her body as she held him just as tightly, their hips grinding together in a smooth rhythm.

"You've got to wake up Harry" her voice hummed wrapping around his brain, "Harry wake up!" His eyes flew open and met the pair standing over him. "Harry?"

He blinked and shook his head, "Wh-what happened?" He asked, confused.

"You fell asleep dipshit," She crosses her arms and huffs, "I was just going to ignore you but you said my name and caught my attention." She gives a sly grin, "Must've been a good dream then" Her friend chuckles next to her.

Harry blushes, feeling embarrassed. "Yeah, uh… sorry about that," he mutters, trying to collect himself. He glances over at Y/n, feeling a strange mixture of shame and desire welling up inside him. She watches him with those cold, calculating eyes, and he can't help but wonder what she's thinking.

"It's fine, Potter," she says, her voice neutral. "But if you're going to sleep and call out for me again, I'll make sure you regret it." She leans in closer, her breath tickling his ear. "Trust me, I'll take a knife and shove it in your throat" For emphases she takes hers and holds It to his throat. "And then I'll drink your blood while you watch." Her words send a shiver down his spine, and he can't help but feel a strange mix of fear and arousal at her threat.

He licks his lips and nods a little, still feeling the weight of her words. "I won't give you the chance," he manages to say, his voice barely audible. There's a long moment where they stare at each other, the air thick with tension and hidden desires. Finally, she pulls back, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Good boy," she says, her words going straight to his dick, sounding almost too pleased. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to look for shit I can take" With that, she turns on her heel and walks away, giving him one last look over her shoulder before they disappear into the crowd.

Harry was still very turned on by the time she came back with her loot and a crown sitting on her head like it was made for her, she took notice of it right away. She gave him a wink as she sat down next to him and began to unravel it, letting the gold chain slip through her fingers. "Look at this, Potter. Found it in the back."

He swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure as he looked at her. She seemed so confident, so in control. It was almost intoxicating. "That looks nice on you," he managed to say, his voice still shaky. "Very regal."

She grinned, showing off her fangs. "I know, right? It's like it was made for me." She leaned in closer, her breath tickling his ear. "I could make you feel like you were my king, Potter. If you wanted." Her hand reached out, tracing a finger down his cheek before coming to rest on his shoulder. "I could make you feel things you've never felt before."

Harry shuddered at her touch, his body responding to her words. He wanted to believe her, wanted to feel what she was offering. But a part of him knew that this was dangerous territory. "I'm not sure if that's such a good idea," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Her grip on his shoulder tightened. "Oh, but I think it is," she purred. "I can see it in your eyes, Potter. You want this as much as I do." Her other hand came up, cupping his cheek, her thumb brushing across his bottom lip. "And I can make you forget everything else, everyone else."

He closed his eyes, unable to resist her. Her words were like a drug, clouding his thoughts and making him want to believe that she could give him what he needed. He opened his mouth, allowing her thumb to stroke across his lips, and then, before he could think twice, he leaned forward and kissed her.

Her lips were as soft as he imagined, but there was a fierceness to her kiss that took him by surprise. She tasted like blood and desire, her tongue dancing with his, urging him on. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling the strength in her body as she held him just as tightly, their hips grinding together in a smooth rhythm. He moaned into her mouth, unable to believe how good this felt, how much he wanted more.

She pulled away for a moment, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she looked down at him. Her eyes were wide with desire, and her fangs were bared, glistening in the dim light. "You're perfect," she whispered, her voice husky. "I've waited so long for this." Then she was kissing him again, her lips moving over his face, tracing a path down his neck and collarbone.

He arched his back, groaning as her teeth scraped against his skin. "Please," he managed to say, his voice barely audible. "I want you." She smiled against his skin, her breath hot against his flesh. "Don't worry, Potter. I'll take care of you." And then she was undoing his pants, her cool fingers wrapping around his aching erection.

She stroked him expertly, her other hand moving up to past his shirt, teasing a nipple through his shirt. He felt himself growing more and more out of control, the pleasure coursing through his veins. He couldn't believe how good this felt, how right. He wanted to lose himself in her touch, in her kiss.

When she finally pushed him back, straddling him, he knew that this was it. He was hers, and he didn't want it any other way. She leaned forward, her breasts pressing against his chest, and lowered her mouth to his neck once more. He arched his back, moaning as she teased him with her teeth and tongue. Her hips began to move, slowly at first, and then with increasing urgency. He could feel her wetness against his skin, and the sensation was almost unbearable.

She looked down at him, her eyes hooded and dark. "You're mine now," she growled, her voice rough with desire. "Say it."

He looked up at her, his eyes cloudy with lust. "I'm yours," he managed to croak. "Do with me what you will."

She smiled, her fangs gleaming in the dim light. Then she leaned forward, biting at his neck. At the same time, her hips began to move faster, her body undulating against his. He felt the familiar tugging sensation deep inside him as she guided him closer and closer to the edge.

He gripped her hips, his nails digging into her skin, desperate for release. The pleasure was building inside him, tightening his stomach, making it hard to breathe. "Please," he groaned. "I'm close."

She smiled up at him, her eyes dark with satisfaction. "That's it, Potter," she whispered, her voice husky. "Let go." And with those words, he felt himself spill inside her, his body shuddering with the force of the release. As the pleasure faded, he collapsed back against the pillows, his heart racing and his mind reeling. He looked up at her, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

She leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear. "That was just the beginning," she whispered. "There's so much more we can do together." Her words sent a shiver down his spine, and he couldn't help but wonder what she meant. Was she talking about the physical pleasure they'd shared? Or was there something more?

Before he could open his mouth there was the sound of rubble hitting the ground grabbing both of their attention. The Room of Requirements doors had just opened. Y/n looks down at him, "Looks like it's time to go potter" She licks her lips,"Catch you later"

Y/n Sits at a table in a cold dark room, her hair pooling around her shoulders as she spins her wand around in her hand, the other petting the snake that's draped over her chair.

A call of her name brings her back, eyes snapping to meet dark ones, "What is Your situation with Mr. Potter?" His voice sounded like honey in her ears. Such a shame he became such a massive bitch, he was one of the pretty ones.

She blinked at him owlishly before she seemed to realize his question, "Oh," She glanced towards Draco, their eyes meeting for a split second before looking away. "I have him wrapped around my finger, beck 'n call if you will, My lord," She says with a sly smile.

"Good"

Comment to be added to main taglist

[monstersdownthepath]

Monster Spotlight: Chaneque

CR 1/MR 1

Neutral Evil Small Fey

Bestiary 4, pg. 28

Leaping from treetop to treetop in the primeval wilderness, Chaneque are every bit as terrible as they look, seeing themselves as punishment incarnate against any man or Fey for the 'crime' of existing within their forests. Unlike the versions of these creatures we have here on Earth, the Chaneque of Golarion are universally nasty, hostile creatures that attack and kill other, friendlier Fey beings, feasting upon their flesh, drinking their blood, and turning their bones into weapons against mankind.

Utilizing a disgusting mixture of pixie brains, black mushrooms, and a substance scraped off their own bodies described as a "nectar," a Chaneque can turn the skull of a Fey being into an incredibly dangerous tool; they typically carry as many of these skulls as they can, usually about five or six, and can hurl them one at a time as a standard action ranged attack. Any being struck by the skull takes 1d4+3 damage... and must succeed a DC 14 Will save or have their soul torn from their body and imprisoned inside the skull.

Yes, as befitting of a Mythic creature, this is a CR 1 monster that can essentially kill someone in a single shot regardless of their HP... though I only say essentially because your allies can and SHOULD get to the skull first, as the Chaneque's dark designs may prove even worse than death. Any creature in possession of a skull containing a trapped soul can command the still-living body of the victim, forcing it to obey their will as if using Dominate Monster with an unlimited duration, and which cannot be resisted or dispelled until the skull is destroyed or whomever is holding the skull expresses a desire to release the soul. Should the Fey get the skull, it can turn a party against one another in short order.

But! You may have noticed that the Chaneque has no special dominion over the soul; any creature who's holding the skull can command the victim, and any creature holding the skull can choose to release the imprisoned soul with nothing but a moment's concentration. Since the thrown skull usually ends up at the feet of whoever it just hit, this typically means it's in easy reach of the victim's allies, giving them an easy method to get their friend back. This, however, only works if A) they realize what happened, since it's not like their ally drops dead (they look more dazed, if anything), and B) they're not scattered by terror. Chaneque have both an Aura of Fear (DC 13 Will to resist) AND the ability to cast Fear 3/day, and this is dangerous for a specific reason: fear stacking. Both effects cause the shaken condition even if someone saves against them, but being hit by both the aura and the spell cause shaken to become frightened even if they succeed both saves, and staying in the aura or being hit by the spell one more time causes frightened to become panicked, more or less removing that creature from the fight.

Yet another reason why Unbreakable Heart should be a party of every team's spell list!

If you can't protect yourself from the fear, the Chaneque can become invincible in as little as two rounds as it steals the souls of the whole party one by one... but if you have some fear-protection, or if you can stay out of its 30ft aura and pelt it with ranged attacks, it'll go down quite easily. Chaneque have no DR--not even the token cold iron DR most Fey have--low saves, and no Resistances or immunities of any sort (though they do have a decent 19 HP). Adding to this, their only offense in melee is a single claw for 1d3+3 damage, incentivizing parties to collapse on the little buggers the instant it's safe to do so.

Their weakness, in turn, incentivizes them to play smart. They're cunning little buggers, using their 20ft climb speed into their 60ft fly speed to leap from treetop to treetop specifically to stay out of the reach of the mortals they're trying to steal the souls of. If you're being hunted by one of these things, you may not even notice until it's blasted the party with Fear and started hucking its skulls, gaining control of the party one by one...

Fun fact, though: there's nothing in its statblock that says that you can't take these enchanted skulls for your own use. They tend to have about five or so of the things on them, and any that aren't destroyed can be recovered and used by your party as, essentially, throwable Dominate Person scrolls. If you want to be extra nasty, you can use the Steal maneuver to snatch one, and use it against the Chaneque itself, an irony the Fey likely won't appreciate. This maneuver is likely the real quest when hunting one of these creatures, as they really enjoy burying stolen souls around in their territory, dooming most of their victims to starve to death as they aimlessly wander the woods. Commanding a Chaneque to find, dig up, and release the souls it's taken is likely the party's first steps towards getting Mythic power of their own!

You can read more about them here.