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anto-pops · 2 years ago

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Inherent Desires - Sebastian Sallow x Female! Reader

Summary: After a draining week away from home with his fellow Aurors, the last thing Sebastian wants to do is sit through a damn dinner party with all of them in London. Lucky for him, your presence at the event gives him the perfect opportunity to do more entertaining things, like work you into a frenzy at the table.

Alternatively summarized as Sebastian wanting to go home and roll around in the sheets with you, but since he can't he settles for fucking you downstairs in his boss's house

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, mild voyeurism

I wrote this under the influence of Covid so don't look at it too closely. Full fic can be found here on Ao3!

Sebastian wanted to go the fuck home.

He hadn’t even wanted to attend his boss’s stupid dinner party. Hauling ass all the way to London didn’t sound remotely appealing to him, especially when he’d only just arrived home from Poland the night before. It was well after midnight when he’d apparated into the living room of your shared home, exhausted and craving your familiar embrace like a man denied water. You’d been asleep though, and before he had the chance to reacquaint himself with your body earlier that morning, he’d received the summons for a celebratory feast in his squad’s honor.

Why they needed to further celebrate taking down a dragon fighting ring, he didn’t know. His work was cut out for him despite the completed assignment; it just meant more paperwork, more meetings, and evidently more formalities that he didn’t care to entertain. You had convinced him to attend– if only because the whole soiree was in his honor. Sebastian’s absence would have been apparent and awkward to address later down the line.

You’d told him he could grouse all he wanted, and Merlin— was he succeeding. His arms were crossed loosely across his chest while he sat back in his seat, eagerly awaiting the end of the night with his lips pursed and his brows furrowed. Sebastian’s expression might have come across as focused and domineering to everyone else, but to you it just looked downright irate. His boss had to be getting to him after weeks of working together so closely.

How did the saying go again? Familiarity breeds contempt, or something like that. It seemed to fit the situation to a ‘T’.

No rational thinking could change the fact that Sebastian didn’t want to be here. Especially with you seated beside him looking ten different kinds of seductive.

You were positively ravishing. Donned in the silky, forest green dress that Sebastian had gifted you this morning, the material clung to your feminine frame like a glove and left little to the imagination. He wanted nothing more than to run his hands all over you– to finally satiate the undeniable urge to sheathe himself in your tight core once again. The most he’d been able to do was help you get dressed earlier, and the seductive drag of his fingers up your spine as he zipped you up had been enough to make his intentions clear to you.

There was a time and a place, however, and you’d told him as much with a sultry look before heading outside to the carriage. Since then, he was having a hard time focusing on anything else.

From his seat next to you, he could feel the heat radiating off of your body, and the low hum of your ancient magic charged the air and made his hair stand on end. Sebastian had to dig his nails into the upholstery of his seat to refrain from touching you openly. The smell of your perfume was like an aphrodisiac after seven long, grating days spent away from it. Nevermind the flush on your cheeks from all the wine you’d consumed; it made you look all the more alluring, and the half-chub he’d been sporting was quickly becoming something bigger and more bothersome.

Sebastian considered his next move carefully, glancing around the comically large dinner table fit for a villain before he turned his attention back to you. Your arm was outstretched to accept another generous serving of red wine, your lips curling into a practiced smile as you murmured a low, “Thank you.”

Marlowe Selwyn, the host of the evening, chose that moment to charm away everyone’s dirty plates and replace the picked apart main course with an extravagant looking cake in the center of the table. Your eyes were wider than saucers as you took in the impressive sight, and Sebastian smiled despite his sour mood. Sometimes suffering through these things was worth it to see you so easily pleased. He knew you had a wicked sweet tooth.

He did too, if he was being honest, but the sudden realization that he would rather have you for dessert hit him like a steaming train, and his cock twitched in his trousers enthusiastically.

“Once again, a grand toast to Sallow’s squad for a job well done in Poland,” Marlowe announced, his bald head glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. The wine had to be warming him up thoroughly. “I’ve always had high expectations for you all and you never fail to impress. Here’s to many more successes in the near future, cheers.”

You lifted your glass in solidarity, watching as all the Auror’s around the table did the same as they hooted and hollered their agreements, when you suddenly felt a broad hand plant itself on your thigh.

When you glanced up, Sebastian was staring at you with a blank expression, but there was no way you missed the mischievous glint in his eyes. You shot him a sideways look of your own, biting your tongue to stifle a quip, but the brunet only huffed out an airy laugh under his breath. You brought your wine glass back to your lips to take a generous sip and school the building tension in your shoulders. It was pointless, however, seeing as Sebastian started to drag his fingers up your leg to gather the material of your dress into a balled heap.

You knew exactly what he was trying to do, and the thought made you flush deeper and shudder nervously. While your lower half was concealed by the table, there would be no hiding your reactions to Sebastian’s touch if he continued. Once he’d haphazardly pushed the majority of your dress up your legs to expose his target, you visibly tensed and dropped one of your own hands to grip his, anxiously looking around the room at the slew of tipsy Ministry officials who were none the wiser to Sebastian’s horny antics at the far end of the table.

Sebastian licked his lips in a bid to hide his cheshire-like smile while he watched you, noting your sharp intake of breath when he cautiously ventured closer to your nether region. Your back seemed to go rigid at the sudden attention, and he felt your nails dig into the skin at his wrist when he finally pressed his middle finger against your thin undergarments, sparing a quick glance down the row of seats to ensure he hadn’t been discovered. Marlowe was still talking, and his co-workers were preoccupied with watching him cut the massive cake, which meant he was in the clear for the time being.

Your wine glass shook in your hand when Sebastian trailed his finger down to seek out the tiny bundle of nerves at your center, causing you to whip your head to the side to stare at him unblinkingly. Your voice was low when you hissed out, “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” He shot back easily with a knowing smirk.

“It looks like you’re being incredibly careless. Knock it off, this isn’t the time–” you were cut off by your own gasp when he finally planted the tip of his finger against your aching core, rubbing firm, teasing circles around your clit through the cotton of your panties. You felt your face heat up as you shifted your hips back in an attempt to pull away from the abrupt pleasure, but Sebastian followed you easily. There was virtually nowhere for you to go to escape his brazen ministrations.

“What about you, Mrs. Sallow?” You heard Marlowe ask from the other side of the table, and you jumped slightly in your seat from having been quickly roped back into the moment at hand. “Have you given any further thought to my offer?”

Sebastian stilled his movements– just barely– so that he could glare fixedly at his boss. You had no idea what the man was even referring to, but clearly your husband did. Swallowing thickly, you released Sebastian’s wrist to gingerly set your wine glass down on the table, then tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Sorry… what offer?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten! I’m referring to the Auror position– for you to join our ranks in the Ministry. Your abilities are squandered, my dear. Think of all the good work we could accomplish with the help of your ancient magic.”

Oh, right. That offer.

It wasn’t the first time Marlowe had pitched the Auror title to you, and something told you it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Your answer had never changed though; becoming an Auror was something you had decided against a long time ago, preferring to maintain your freedom to travel where you wanted, when you wanted. Besides, your exploration of ancient magic sites was far from complete, and with so much left to discover and unearth, you found yourself shaking your head through the lustful fog that clouded your mind.

It was far too difficult to keep your voice steady when Sebastian started pressing down on your clit again. Your voice was tight as you squeezed your knees together under the table, but he didn’t let that stop him. “I apologize, Mr. Selwyn, but I’m afraid my answer is still the same.”

Marlowe’s beady eyes narrowed scrupulously, and his lips pursed with obvious disappointment, but he gave you a firm nod all the same. “I see. Well… should you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

You were certain he didn’t mean for the statement to come out so suggestive, but you simply gave him a curt nod before turning your attention to your lap. The veins in Sebastian’s hands were swollen and apparent, his irritation with his boss palpable, but he rewarded your indifferent reply with a quick swipe up your dampening folds, and you had to bite your lip to refrain from moaning in earnest. This was a game you were quickly losing, and the growing fire in your gut was as intoxicating as it was sobering.

You were petrified of being discovered.

“Are you alright, dear? You look rather ill,” another one of Sebastian’s squad members asked you from across the table. You were positive you’d met the man before, but his name escaped your memory completely. In fact, your mind was utterly blank of any prudent information– save for the acute placement of Sebastian’s long, cunning fingers.

Dozens of heads swiveled in your direction to scrutinize your seemingly ‘ill’ appearance, and you hastily shoved Sebastian’s hand away from between your legs and tugged your dress down. “Yes, I’m fine. I suppose the wine is starting to get to me– please excuse me for a moment.”

You didn’t wait to gauge your husband’s reaction. Instead you swiftly stood from your seat, offering a polite smile to Marlowe and the rest of the attendees before you strode out of the dining room to head for the downstairs restroom. The sound of your heels clicking against the marble stairs filled the foyer– betraying your hurried pace and giving away just how desperate you were for a modicum of privacy. You shouldered the door open and closed it quickly, latching the lock into place before you turned to stare at your reflection.

Shit.

As if wine could make you look so frazzled. You were scarlett from head to toe, and your dress was mildly wrinkled in the areas Sebastian had bunched up and shoved out of the way to play with you. A nagging voice in the back of your mind threatened to brutalize him for nearly humiliating you in front of all his co-workers, but a louder, much needier voice was suddenly demanding that you leave with him to go home and make him finish what he’d started.

Up until now, you’d been fairly surprised with Sebastian’s restraint. You knew he was as eager as you were to fool around after such an abrupt and grating business trip, but he’d seemingly been on his best behavior all evening. You should have known his patience would run out before you even left London. He was way too predictable.

The distinct sound of a lock being charmed open reached your ears, and you stepped further into the dimly lit bathroom to prematurely glare at who you already knew had come searching for you. Sebastian poked his head through the entryway first, grinning diabolically when he caught sight of your unkempt appearance before stepping through the threshold and shutting the door– all without taking his dark eyes off of you.

“You have some gall, you know that?” You immediately started in on him, jabbing an accusatory finger in his direction while you raked your other hand through your hair. “Have you gone completely mad? Are you trying to embarrass us both?”

Sebastian adjusted the flared collar of his Auror coat with a smug expression on his face, shrugging nonchalantly as he leaned against the closed door. “I don’t think you realize how good you look tonight.”

“That’s hardly an excuse–”

“Yes it is. You’re distracting me. As soon as I got home last night, all I wanted was to be inside of you– frankly it’s unacceptable that I haven’t been yet. Then you go and wear something like this and expect me to eat Selwyn’s shitty dessert? I’d much rather have you.”

“I– but– you gave me this dress,” you stammered out indignantly, which only served to make Sebastian chuckle.

“I did, and you look radiant, make no mistake. I suppose it’s my own fault for insisting you wear it tonight.” He stepped away from the door, the predatory glint in his eyes deepening as he moved to plant himself directly behind you facing the mirror. “I thought I’d be able to hold off until later, but I don’t see that happening anymore.”

You watched through the reflection as Sebastion wound his strong arms around your midsection, tugging you flush against his chest so he could run his hands up your front. The closer he got to your breasts, the shallower your breathing became, and you reached behind yourself to place your palms against the brunet’s toned legs in an attempt to ground yourself. “S-Sebastian, not here. Merlin– what if Marlowe comes looking and walks in?”

He lowered his head to nuzzle his lips against your thunderous pulse, pressing wet, chaste kisses along the slender column of your neck. Once he found one of your pert nipples through the silky material draped over you and pinched lightly, your restraint started to slip away.

Then again, had it really been there in the first place? Your resolve where Sebastian was concerned was always about as strong as wet tissue paper. He knew exactly what buttons to press to get what he wanted from you, and you rarely had any complaints to voice after the fact– save for when he was acting like a complete prat in the process.

“If he does, then he’ll be the luckiest bastard alive for all of two seconds before I kill him.”

“Sebastian!”

“I’m joking, darling. I do hate the way Selwyn speaks to you, though. He’s too familiar with you for my liking.” He looked up at your flustered self staring wide-eyed at him in the mirror, dropping one of his hands to the space between your legs while the other trailed higher to curl around your throat, and your stomach flipped over on itself from the possessive hold he had on you. Sebastian’s hand tightened a fraction to press your head against his shoulder, leaving you arched deliciously across the front of his torso– and he swore up and down he wouldn’t be able to hold back, even if he wanted to. “Let me fuck you here. I’ll be so good to you, I promise. To hell with the party, we can leave right after.”

Your pulse fluttered beneath Sebastian’s broad hand as you sucked in a shaky breath, watching with rapt interest as his wandering fingers began tugging up the green fabric of your dress once again. The urge to stop him was nowhere to be found despite the circumstances, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you willed your brain to function rationally. “By that logic we could just leave now and spare ourselves the embarrassment of being caught. The carriage is literally waiting outside.”

Sebastian tugged your head back a smidge further to give himself easier access to lave his hot tongue along the shell of your ear, drawing a shiver from you that he felt reverberate through your prone form. “That line of thinking is flawed– I would still have to wait in that case, and if I have to wait any longer I’ll lose my fucking mind.”

Shifting your feet to better support yourself, the tiny movement allowed your backside to rub perfectly against Sebastian’s painfully hard cock. You hadn’t doubted him in the slightest when he said he was impatient, but feeling his arousal pressed against your ass made his predicament all the more apparent, and you couldn’t help the slight smile that broke out across your face when his strained breathing fanned across your temple.

“Gods, do you want me to beg? Because I will, I’ll get on my knees for you here and now. Please darling– please let me– I need you so badly, you have no clue.”

The entire time he was talking, his hips were rocking against you– shamelessly deriving his own pleasure from the friction the movement provided. The entire display really had no business being so attractive, especially considering you were literally locked in Marlowe Selwyn’s downstairs bathroom. Much as you’d expected, however, Sebastian was working you into a tizzy with sorely little effort, and you were as keen to feel him as he was to feel you.

Sebastian hoisted your dress up your legs slowly, taking his time and observing your every reaction in the mirror with an intensity that made your head spin. “You’re certifiably insane, but fine,” you relented, dragging one of your hands in front of you to gingerly grasp Sebastian’s forearm. “We have to be quick though, I really don’t want anyone to come looking.”

With your dress hiked up mostly out of the way, Sebastian had enough leeway to run his palms up your bare stomach, gently scratching his nails along the soft, smooth skin as he went. “The absolute last thing I want to do is rush through this… you know I like to take my time.”

“Then save the rest of your horny fantasies for after we get home. Unless you secretly want someone to walk in on us. Are you that eager for your boss to see your cock?”

You felt Sebastian’s deft hand scale down towards your aching center once more– only this time he slipped the appendage under the thin cotton of your underwear, and his fingers were instantly met with your pooling slick. He practically guffawed at your taunt and flashed you a cunning smirk through the mirror, “Now who’s certifiably insane?”

“Still you. This was your idea, remember?”

He chuckled darkly against your ear as he finally slid one of his slender digits through your sopping wet folds, and the shaky breath you let out was like music to his ears. Your lips parted around a moan as he began working you open on his finger, your grip on his arm tightening just barely to keep yourself upright as you practically melted against his chest. Sebastian set an even rhythm, focusing intently on getting as deep within you as he could given the precarious angle, but he was utterly adoring watching you fall apart in the reflection of the mirror. There was no chance he would risk moving you around and lose his opportunity to witness your pleasure so closely.

Trailing hot kisses down your neck and across your exposed shoulder, Sebastian curled his finger inside your pulsing heat, pressing and twisting expertly inside of your familiar core to prepare you for what you both desperately wanted. Your airy whimpers bounced off the marble walls of the bathroom, imbuing Sebastian with a vigor that had his cock twitching avidly against your ass.

“I’ll make you feel so good, darling,” Sebastian murmured directly in your ear, subtly withdrawing his finger before plunging back in with a second. A keening whine slipped from your throat as you wriggled your hips back onto his fingers, the wet sounds reaching your ears and making you flush impossibly further. “I’ve wanted this since I left last week– you’re so fucking perfect, Merlin, the things you do to me…”

Sebastian’s praises had you sighing loudly, your resolve a thing of the past as you took in the sinful scene playing out in the mirror. His strong arm draped across your front to hold your throat effectively caged you to him, and his imposing stature behind you dwarfed you in comparison. At this point in your adult lives, he towered over you, and some inherent, primal part of you loved that fact.

Everything transpiring was almost enough to lull the two of you into a slower, more sensual pace, until the distinct sound of heavy footsteps from down the hall had you both tensing in place. You let go of Sebastian’s arm to cover your mouth, not trusting yourself to remain quiet without some help– especially because your husband didn’t stop finger fucking you. The conniving bastard flashed you a grin that said it all; he didn’t give a single shit if anyone heard you.

Maybe he really was an exhibitionist.

The footsteps got closer, closer, until they bypassed the bathroom entirely and continued further down the hall to enter a different room. You exhaled a breath that you didn’t know you’d been holding and let your hand slide away from your mouth, fixing Sebastian with a sharp look despite your disheveled appearance.

“Please Sebastian, hurry up,” you managed to squeak out through your tight throat. The pressure building in your gut was borderline torturous, and a wanton moan tumbled from your wine stained lips when he scissored his fingers right before he curled them again, fuck–

“Are you that worried about being caught?” He mused, his mouth watering hungrily when you turned your head to bury your face in the crook of his neck.

“Yes,” you whispered against his heated skin. “J-Just– come on–”

Sebastian raised his shoulder to jostle you out of your hiding spot, swiftly capturing your lips in a desperate kiss that made your knees tremble and left your mind blank. His tongue delved deep in your mouth, tangling with your own as he swallowed every tiny mewl his fingers pulled from you. As much as he loved the prospect of teasing you, he was impatient too. Not as a result of being discovered— but because it had already been an entire week since he’d been inside of you— and the phantom feeling had haunted his every waking moment in Poland.

Licking his lips, his dark eyes hot with pure lust, Sebastian pulled his fingers from your throbbing cunt and carefully walked you forward so your hip bones were pressed against the bathroom counter. You felt his hands trail up your waist to tug down your undergarments, letting them fall around your ankles haphazardly. It seemed to pain him to step away, but he did it anyway to undo his belt and release his cock from the confines of his trousers and briefs altogether. It sprung free and he moved directly behind you once more, the lush feeling of his girthy member settling between your cheeks enough to make you twitch your hips back in a silent invitation.

Sebastian’s broad hands found your hips again, hastily moving your dress out of the way so he could grip you with a strength that had your mouth drying out instantly. “Do you think you can keep quiet or should I cast a silencing charm just in case?”

“Just shut up and fuck me already,” you growled over your shoulder at him. His throaty laugh was his only reply before you felt his weight settle over your back, his lips pressing soothingly against your shoulder as he slowly and carefully spread you open with his thick cock.

“F-Fuck, darling– you’re so warm–” he grit through his clenched teeth, barely restraining himself as he bottomed out and slid his sweaty palms up your body to feel along the sensual curve of your waist. Having the good grace to give you a second to adjust, Sebastian’s labored breathing filled the room, and your head fell forward between your shoulders at the overwhelming fullness you felt. “Is it okay?”

“Gods, yes–” you gasped out as he ground into you slightly. “Were you always this big?”

That was all he needed to hear for his patience to evaporate into thin air.

Sebastian’s hold on you tightened as he abruptly set to filling you in short, quick thrusts, using your hips as leverage to pull you back onto his cock. His eyes damn near crossed at the feeling— instilling you with the willpower to meet him halfway— and you started rocking back into him with stuttering, panting breaths as your eyes fluttered shut. For a few heated moments, all that could be heard were both of your throaty moans echoing off the bathroom walls, coupled with your needy pleas for “More, Sebastian, more,” which in turn had your lover growling as he started fucking you harder and deeper.

The sound of skin slapping against skin was fucking intoxicating. You threw your head back with your eyes clenched shut, biting your lip to stifle a groan, and Sebastian took full advantage of your closer proximity to grab a fistful of your hair and yank you back towards him. His other hand stayed planted firmly on your hip, holding you steady as he railed into you in search of that magic spot that he knew would reduce you to a boneless heap. All you could do was grip the rim of the sink and pray to whatever higher power existed that you would make it through the night without being branded a harlot by your husband’s co-workers.

Leaning down to bite at the side of your neck, you heard and felt Sebastian’s raspy command against your sweat-slick skin, “Open your eyes and watch me fuck you– watch how good you look taking my cock– come on sweetheart, open those pretty eyes for me, please?”

How the hell were you supposed to say no to that?

You cracked open your bleary eyes to find Sebastian’s carnal expression fixed solely on you over your shoulder. The red flush that covered you from head to toe was offset by the dark green coloring of your dress, and your hair was beyond messy gathered in Sebastian’s unrelenting vice grip. In turn, he looked positively animalistic; still decked out in his Auror uniform, his appearance was incredibly striking, and the fire that burned behind his eyes was as commanding as it was reverent. He broke eye contact briefly to look down between you both– enamored with the way you seemed to suck his cock in deeper with every hurried thrust– and when he glanced back at your half-hooded eyes taking in the sight of him, he felt a pang of arousal shoot straight to his core.

“Merlin, you’re gorgeous. You look so pretty with my cock in you, darling,” Sebastian all but purred at your reflection, and the broken moan his comment elicited from you left him grinning like a madman. Your thighs shook with the intensity of your mounting pleasure, and he made a show of releasing your hip to drag his hand sensually down the front of your dress again. “You love it, don’t you? Being filled up by me with dozens of people around? You’re doing so good, I missed this– I missed you.”

The pointed thrust Sebastian bestowed on you did you both a slew of favors. Your eyes went wide and rolled closed as the head of his cock brushed past that hypersensitive spot deep within you, and your mouth fell open as a loud, unconcealed cry snaked its way up your throat. Slapping your hand over your mouth, you heard as Sebastian moaned at the way you squeezed around him, ramming his hips against you faster in a bid to fuck your orgasm out of you in rough, claiming thrusts.

Sebastian’s name fell from your lips again, muffled by your hand, and your legs quaked under you as you were rendered limp against the countertop. Your nails dug into the sides of your cheeks as you frantically looked towards the door– the knowledge that any one of the people here could walk in and find you setting your teeth on edge in ways you’d never anticipated. A deep rooted groan slipped through your fingers as you chanced a look over your shoulder at your husband with desperate eyes.

At this point, Sebastian knew your tells almost better than he knew his own. He released your hair from his fist to plaster himself to you, pounding his cock into your wet heat as he whispered, “Are you close, darling? Want to come?”

Nodding brainlessly, you gasped into your hand before you ripped it away from your face and slapped it against the counter, your nails scrambling to find purchase atop the smooth surface. You were getting close– so close– but you didn’t trust yourself not to wail out for more, so you just trembled beneath Sebastian and hoped that he could feel your looming finish.

His strong fingers flexed and dug into your hip as his other hand crept lower under your bent torso, seeking out your soaked clit expertly, and as soon as he found it, there was little time for you to brace yourself for the tight circles he brutally bestowed upon you.

“F-Fuck, fuck,” you cried out, eternally grateful to be half-laying on the countertop, because there was no fucking way your legs could support you through the blissful haze that clouded your mind. “Sebastian, please–”

It was too much. Your breath caught in your throat as you shivered, whining against the cool marble finish beneath you as Sebastian rammed into you, timing his thrusts with his fingers at your throbbing center. The filthy, wet sounds emanating from between the two of you made his head go completely empty, and he sank his teeth into your shoulder to stifle his own lustful groans as his hand between your legs picked up its pace.

“Come for me, love– come on my cock, please, I need you to,” Sebastian fucking whimpered against the spit-slick imprint of his teeth, and the tenor to his voice told you he was right there on the cusp with you.

The pressure from his fingers and his rough pace was more than enough to send you spiraling, and when you finally came, it took everything in you not to scream Sebastian’s name at the top of your lungs. You rode out the pulses of ecstasy with your tongue clamped between your teeth to fight the noises that threatened to give you both away, but the brunet had no such qualms and pumped into your tightening walls once, twice, then came with a guttural moan that echoed off the walls of the bathroom.

Sebastian muttered your name softly as he sucked in shaky breaths after a moment, rocking his hips into you until he’d emptied himself completely and you were nothing more than a frail, twitching heap under him. Your overstimulated walls seemingly clamped around him even more when he leaned forward to pepper featherlight kisses against your temple, wringing mind-bending waves of pure rapture from him until it started to hurt from how sensitive he was.

Sliding out of you with a contented sigh, Sebastian dotingly ran his hands down your sides to stir you from your post-coital stupor. You lifted your head to blearily stare at him through the mirror, doing your best to commit his fucked-out appearance to memory– and ironically, he seemed to be doing the same.

“What do you think?” He asked you after a few heated seconds. “Do you think anyone heard?”

He may as well have doused you with a bucket of ice water. You didn’t even want to consider the possibility.

Miraculously, you found the strength to push yourself off the counter with quivering arms, grateful that Sebastian was there to steady you on your near boneless legs. “I’d rather not stay and find out, to be honest,” you murmured under your breath, and he chuckled as he brought his hands up to rake through his curly, mused hair.

“Fine by me,” he acquiesced quickly. “What do you say we bail and continue this at home? Preferably horizontally.”

This man and his one-track mind… you had to fight your smile with everything in you. “Don’t you think you should say something to Marlowe first?”

Sebastian scoffed as he stuffed his softening cock back in his trousers, then bent down to gently tug your underwear up your shaky legs. “Say what? ‘Thanks for holding us hostage for another day after practically living together for a week’ or ‘Sorry for fucking my wife in your downstairs bathroom, have a great night’? Doesn’t sound very appealing to me.”

“Fair enough… Irish goodbye then?”

Sebastian’s grin split his face as he cocked his head to the side, affectionately working to fix up your hair. He let his fingers trail smoothly along your jaw until they were under your chin, tilting your head up towards him so he could kiss you with zeal that left you excited to return home. The way his lips molded to yours was tantamount to perfection, and you knew then and there that you would agree to anything he asked of you. You’d missed him far too much to deny him a damn thing.

“Irish goodbye,” he agreed coyly.

You let Sebastian clean you up a bit more before he led you out of the bathroom and through the foyer, ignoring the direction of the dining room entirely in favor of the front door. Quieter than mice, the two of you escaped into the chilly night, laughing at the sheer absurdity of your antics the entire ride home. Sebastian’s wandering hands distracted you brilliantly for the bulk of the journey, and by the time you made it home, your earlier concerns had dissipated fully from your mind.

You never did find out if Mr. Selwyn or his party-goers were privy to your escapades after that, and quite truthfully, you didn’t think you ever wanted to find out.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x female! reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow smut #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow oneshot #my writing #you're married to Sebastian in this cause fuck it we ball #if you see any inconsistencies in this no you don't okay I had the brain power of a walnut while writing this

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secondhand-snow · 9 months ago

Text

a body of impulses

chapter 4: staining the future

lukas matsson x f!roy reader (succession)

★chapter 3★

wc: 8.6k+

warnings: super dysfunctional family, roman roy as his own warning, mention of phone sex, manipulation, praise, no use of y/n

summary: The fall back to the real world after your time spent with Lukas hits you hard. But your family hits you harder, and they hit to kill.

author's note: snow writes a fic without graphic smut?!? insanity. please consider liking, commenting, or reblogging if you enjoyed!

Logan’s birthday is… Logan’s birthday. The day is always celebratory, and always ends in trouble. Chaos tends to be inevitable when your family is together, like two comets on a collision course, helpless to stop the impending crash. Even intimate get-togethers are no exception. You were fully prepared for this, readying your mediating skills and considering any possible issues that could come up at the event. Until, your siblings inform you that they will not be attending. On one hand, it’s a shock. Missing something as important as your father’s birthday because of a fight seems unreasonable, especially when you were so sure you would see them in person again. On the other hand, the lack of their presences could avoid the conflict you were expecting. Either way, your focus shifted from getting ready to stop blow out fights to preparing to answer nosy questions on the whereabouts of your family.

It was nice to talk to your siblings after weeks of no contact. The discussions you had were usually meager, straight and to the point. But all the same, it gave you some sense of normalcy in your vastly changing life. That and the less you spoke to them, the less you had to lie to them about what you were up to. Between Lukas and work, it felt like you could barely get out a sentence without potentially compromising an immense secret. You’d gotten uncomfortably close to disclosing your relationship a couple times, both with Roman, both due to your increasingly frequent trips to Sweden. Luckily, you’d been trained enough in keeping the peace to brush over the details of your life and get him to talk about himself, the suspicion leaving his mind almost instantly.

In addition to rekindling your relationship with your siblings, a strange sort of friendship was beginning to form between yourself and Tom. You were the only two in the immediate family that hadn’t jumped ship yet, well, besides Greg. Since he wasn’t really speaking to Shiv, and Roman and Kendall would rather die than see his face, you were the only one Tom could go to for a genuine conversation. Unless he wanted to talk to Gerri, Karl or Frank, but Tom preferred speaking to someone who wasn’t at least 20 years older than himself. Because of this, the two of you began bonding in a way you hadn’t had the chance to before. When Roman wasn’t making crass jokes over your shoulder, influencing your opinion with his humor, Tom wasn’t actually that bad.

He was more down to Earth than your siblings. He had grown up rich, but not your kind of rich, and it gave him a sort of level headedness that you didn’t see often. His jokes were pretty funny, and his midwest accent gave his speech a natural formality that was strangely captivating. You liked talking to Tom, you even began to see him as a friend during the months after the GoJo deal began. Not only was he sociable, he was actually good at what he did. You’d always thought that he got his position through his relationship with Shiv, though when you began working with him on the GoJo deal you saw that his work ethic had a genuine quality to it. He could be a little brutal at times and looked out for himself before others, but who wasn’t in this business. By the time Logan’s party came up you found yourself honestly enjoying his company.

When you arrive at Logan’s penthouse, the party has already begun. There’s a good crowd of people mingling, mostly executives from Waystar’s corporate world and old business associates of your Dad’s. You’re happy to see Colin, who you greet with a friendly smile, and annoyed to see Kerry, who you give a tight lipped grin. Your dad is at least somewhat happy to see you, giving you the rare hug in welcome.

Buying gifts for a man that has everything is incredibly difficult, and after the watch situation from last year, you were even more terrified of Logan’s reaction to your present. You had settled on purchasing him a Navy medal of honor from WWI to add to his collection and wrapped it weeks in advance, trying to push the worry from your mind for as long as possible. As he opens the present now, his reception is better than you hoped for. Your dad offers you a small thanks and notes that he will add it to one of his display cases later. Internally you doubt that he will, but at least he was kind to you publicly. With another quick hug and a promise to see him again in a bit, you enter the throng of people once more and begin looking for a drink.

It’s really only natural that you gravitate to Tom, joining his side with a glass of champagne as soon as you spot him in the mass of suits. He cracks a few jokes, makes a few comments on work, but mostly you just stand together and look engaged in conversation, successfully deterring any onlookers from bothering you to ask prying questions. You make frequent trips to the bathroom. Not to actually use the toilet, but to answer your messages from Lukas. It was too much of a chance to open his texts around others at the party, since so many of them knew him well. He knows your at Logan’s birthday, he even considered attending himself before getting too busy with work. His goofy texts brighten up the otherwise dull day, giving you something to look forward to and keeping you awake amongst the bland chatting you’re obligated to engage in.

It’s after one of these trips to the bathroom that the first sign of discord begins to creep into the party. It starts with Cousin Greg, who’s chattering incessantly in Tom’s ear as you approach the pair.

“-I’m kidding, I really do like her.” You seamlessly attach yourself to the conversation as you join them, keeping pace as you begin to walk from room to room.

“Like who? The blonde teeny bopper you brought?”

“Yeah!”

“What, did you meet her on Raya or something?” You get a small laugh from Tom at that, the three of you pausing your stroll for a moment.

“She’s used all the display towels in the bathroom and now they’re sopping wet, she’s gabbling about herself and posting on social media.” Greg scoffs a bit at Tom’s critique, looking around to be sure the blonde was nowhere nearby. “She’s asking people personal questions- and she’s wolfing all the canapes like a famished warthog!”

“People are overreacting, okay? She brought a normal kind of handbag!”

“Greg, the massive purse is one thing. Posting pictures of the inside of my father’s house on Instagram is actually incredibly invasive. She’s basically a security risk at this point.”

“You are a laughing stock of polite society.” As Tom chimes in, the unmistakable face of Greg’s date begins to approach you, a look of concern on her face. Tom whispers as he finishes his comment. “You’ll never go to the opera again.”

“Maybe- we should go?” The woman’s voice has a twinge of vocal fry, her hand holding her phone protectively close to her body.

“Oh are you okay? What, uh, what happened?” Greg stoops from his normal towering stance to direct his quiet tone towards his date.

“Nothing! I just asked Logan for a selfie.”

“You asked my dad for a selfie?” You can’t help the small laugh of disbelief that leaves your mouth at her confession.

“Yeah- oh! You’re- uh…” The woman is at least socially conscious enough to realize her mistake in not addressing you, an awkward smile coming to her face as she continues. “I said ‘Congrats on the big deal.’ I was like, ‘Ker-ching, am I right?’ I was being funny!”

“...That is hilarious.”

It’s a little while later when things start to get worse. Logan had disappeared with Colin a couple of hours ago, and was now ignoring calls as his executives tried to contact him. Additionally, Kerry had come to you and asked you to talk to your siblings, to get them to text or call Dad for his birthday. You gave her the same strained response you’d had to repeat so many times in the past few months, “My siblings are capable of making their own decisions.” Despite this, you did text them to let them know of Kerry’s request. They left the message on read. It’s you who’s finally able to get through to Logan, letting him know that there was some trouble with the Pierce deal. He arrived back at the penthouse only a bit after you contacted him, immediately stopping the party and kicking out the crowd.

And so, on a day that was supposed to be calm, work-free, and relaxing, you ended up gathered in Logan’s home office with the tension rising rapidly. It’s concerning how quickly the group is able to find out that it’s your siblings who are the rival bidders. It’s more concerning how upset Logan is when he finds out. He swears. More than usual. He yells at both you and Tom, telling the pair of you to call Shiv and tell her to get her own idea. To your credit, you do call her, but you go straight to voicemail.

You’re helpless in the situation, in a sort of trance of dissociation as chaos unfolds around you. You barely even perk up during Logan’s “roasting” rampage, refusing to cause a spectacle for your dad’s amusement. Unfortunately, Greg doesn’t have the same foresight as you. What snaps you out of the haze is when Tom finally gets through to your sister. The two of you huddle around his iPhone in the corner of the room, trying to maintain some sense of privacy as speakerphone causes your conversation to echo around the office.

“Hey, Shiv” Tom’s is clearly stressed, an unnatural lilt in his voice as he speaks.

“Hi?”

“Hey. Tom!” So Kendall’s with her.

“Fuck you, man mountain!” And the voice of Roman solidifies your siblings' involvement in buying Pierce. An inaudible sigh leaves your mouth as the worst is confirmed.

“Hey, look, so… we were just wondering if we’re not being- uh, played a little here. Since this is all indicative.”

“Okay, well, what did he go up to?” Shiv’s tone is simultaneously annoyed and eager.

“Well, we can’t tell you that.”

“He didn't go to nine, did he?”

“Well, we were just wondering, you know, all things being equal, the asset does have a price. And it would be- it would be crazy to add an emotional… uh, premium here.” Tom is beginning to scramble, his demeanor becoming frantic as he searches for some kind of tactic to convince your siblings. “So, should we be looking for a back door on this?”

“What's Dad's ceiling?” Shiv asks the question like she already knows the answer. You wonder if she really does.

“Well, what's your ceiling?”

“Why don't you go first, Tommy? Build that trust, brah!” Kendall’s tone is surprisingly happy, like he’s high either on coke or on the thrill of bidding.

“Well, his ceiling is-- is... Uh, well, I... Your dad is just–”

“It’s higher than yours, I can guarantee that.” You cut in for the first time, saving Tom from his own bumbling.

“Oh hi baby sister! Decided to join the rebellion yet?” Roman stretches out the nickname, whining in a way he knows you hate, trying to rile you up to their level.

“Do you even have the financing for this? Or are you pooling together all your lunch money just to piss off Dad?” Maybe it’s the fact that you’re over the phone, maybe it’s how stressed out this situation has you, but you find yourself bolder than normal. For once, you’re going head to head with your sibling’s wit without backing down.

“We’re not doing this just to piss off Dad.” Shiv deadpans, interjecting before Roman can get another word in.

“Right because you have such a genuine interest in a left leaning, family based news conglomerate that’s a direct competitor to ATN.” Your normally soft and regulated tone has a sharp edge to it, cutting through your family’s bullshit like butter. “What happened to the media company you were starting, you seemed so excited about that? The hundred, or something?”

“It’s still news and media, it's just- just starting from nothing versus, like, starting from an already established network.” Kendall speaks next, you can hear his chair vaguely creaking as he sits forward to direct his voice into the phone.

“Well it’s not worth it, what you’d gain from buying Pierce is nothing compared to the damage you’d do from fucking this deal. You know that.” You take a breath before finishing your piece, voice softer as you attempt to appeal to your family’s empathy. “Right now, you can still come back from this. Things… aren’t too broken, yet. We can fix them. If you go through with this, I don’t know if that will still be true.”

There’s a long pause before Shiv speaks again. “Our ceiling is 12.”

“Fuck off!” Tom can’t contain his shock at the statement. You tilt your head back, shaking it in disbelief with your eyes on the ceiling. “Yeah, well, our’s too. Okay?”

“Okay!”

There’s a familiar beep as the call ends. You don’t look at anyone’s faces as you reclaim your seat on the couch. You barely speak for the rest of the night. You don’t flinch when your siblings win Pierce, don’t look up when your dad screams at them through the phone, don’t say goodbye to anyone as you leave. Your resolve only crumbles in private.

That night, you call Lukas. He answers on the first ring, smiling into the camera as you greet him on Facetime. You can’t say much about the business that went down today, but he knows you well enough to fill in the blanks. Lukas has listened to you vent about your family so much, and everytime he consoles you like nobody else. He remembers past issues, connects them, brings them up to understand the context better. He frowns when you cry, he tries to make you laugh when you’re mad. He’s single handedly crushing your apprehensions on the relationship one night at a time.

You feel refreshed in the morning, maybe you cried all the angst out of your bloodstream. There’s already a text from your boyfriend making sure you're okay, asking you to text him updates about your day. It’s one of the rare occasions that you won’t be in the office. Instead you’ll be at Connor’s wedding rehearsal, doing just as much work, only with your family instead of the company. Inside, you’re dreading the event. It’s awful, just 24 hours ago you were excited to see your siblings in person. You’d been prepared to hug and smile and laugh. Now, you weren’t sure if they’d even come. And worse, you had no clue how they’d react to your presence if they did attend.

Nevertheless, you persist. You treat the rehearsal like a work event you really don’t want to go to, practicing fake smiles in the mirror as you do your makeup, donning your best cocktail dress, and pushing through the anxiety rushing in your veins. The actual rehearsal is mostly uneventful, your siblings missing from attendance. Of course, it’s incredibly awkward. Willa clearly did not want to be there, tears welling in her eyes every five seconds. Connor absolutely knew this, trying to make up for it with overt public displays of affection. At one point you swear she’s gonna call it off. Instead, she runs off to the bathroom with her bridesmaids for half an hour before returning like nothing was wrong. By the time it’s over and Willa is rushing out the door, you’ve settled into a round table at the restaurant with Connor. You’re expecting to be consoling him for the rest of the night.

It’s just your luck that your family arrives less than five minutes later.

“Finally!” Connor’s sudden interruption in your small talk makes your head whip around, your eyes landing on the trio approaching you. You set down your champagne glass a little too hard, and plaster a polite smile on your face as they near.

“Found him!” Roman is the first to approach his demeanor casual as always, eyes skipping over you to focus on Connor sitting to your right.

“Hey, hey.”

“Hey.”

“Here you are, we missed you.” You keep your voice gentle as you address them, letting Kendall give you a small pat on your shoulder in welcome.

“Hello sir, hugsie?” Rome stoops to plant a semi-authentic hug on Connor, gazing over his shoulder to give you a small look of endearment. A silent show of forgiveness you’ve gotten used to.“We’re so sorry man.”

“Yeah, dad screwed us.” Shiv reaches over you to hug your brother. She gives you a tight lipped smile to acknowledge your presence. “Hey, bro.”

“Oh look at you, the rebel alliance. How is it out in those hills? Supply lines okay? Got enough to eat?” Connor alters his voice a bit, putting on a front of normalcy for his family, even if he knows you can see right through it. Your siblings are still leaning on the table, standing noncommittally as you stay seated with your eldest brother. “This is how it is, huh? Us and Dad on one side, you guys on the other?”

Roman doesn’t answer, disregards his comment in favor of asking a competing question. “You… okay man? We saw Willa on the way in.”

“Yeah, I think it’s all fine.” Connor’s resolve slips as he responds, voice lowering to a level thick with anxiety and gloominess.

“Well…” You give a sideways glance at him before moving your gaze to the rest of your family. “When Willa stood up to do her speech, she said ‘I can’t do this.’ And then she ran to the bathroom and stayed there for forty minutes with her friends.”

There’s a universal cringe that spreads across the table at that information.

“Oh no, no, no. That’s not-” Roman takes a seat, slouches back in his chair as he tries to assure Connor with some rambling. “That’s totally fine, don’t worry about that. Just… toss her another ten grand. -Or a snowmobile and some teeth whitening vouchers.”

“Any luck, Sylvia?” Connor directs his message to a blonde, tanned woman holding a glass of red wine in one hand and her phone in the other. She shakes her head. “That’s Willa’s mom.” He adds under his breath before getting up to go speak with her in the corner.

“It's… fine Con.” Roman’s volume dwindles as your brother walks out of earshot. You scoot back in your chair a bit, craning your neck to look over at Connor while your siblings continue speaking.

“This is so fucking weird.”

“Okay so- do we regroup at my place?” Shiv lowers her voice as she speaks, almost like she’s telling a secret.

“Shiv. He’s, Come on- he’s lookin’ a little rough. Don’t you think?” Rome angles a thumb to your oldest brother. His voice is thick with sympathy, a rare display of emotion from him.

“Well, sure.” Shiv’s still standing, tapping her foot impatiently as her words speed up. “I’m sorry that Dad fucked us, and I’m sorry that we’re late, but we do need to decide fast… so…”

“Wait, decide on what?” Your head turns back to the group at the table, eyes settling on your sister in front of you. “And- you’re leaving? Seriously? You just got here, you can’t spend an hour with your brother? He’s clearly going through a lot!”

“Yeah, we should stay.” Kendall chimes in, giving you a small nod of agreement. “And- I mean, I think we know, right?”

“Do we, though? They made some pretty compelling arguments”

“Sandi’s a greedy little bitch. She’s got her hand up the ass of the carcass of her dad, and Stewy’s just along for the ride. It’s a- fuck it! It’s a packet of horseshit!” Roman’s speech gives you more insight into what it is they’re actually debating. There’s a thousand different reasons your siblings could be talking to Sandi and Stewy, but with your family it’s never just innocent conversation. And with Shiv’s comment about deciding fast… whatever they’re up to, it has to be affecting something in the near future.

“Okay. What if I want to talk it through?” Your sister stresses the word I, like she is the ultimate driving force in this decision. Which, to be fair, she seems to be.

“Talk what through? What’s going on- what are you three up to now?” Your head shakes slightly as you ask the question, already preparing for the worst. There’s a slight pause as your siblings look at each other, which you use to take another sip of champagne.

“Okay, still incommunicado.” Connor’s presence breaks the rising tension, and stops one of your siblings from having to answer you. “I just really hope she’s okay. So, what do you say? A little bit of karaoke?”

“Would it be possible to do anything other than that in the entire universe?”

“No, let’s do it! Come on, just this one time.” You give Connor a little shoulder nudge as he sits back next to you, encouraging his idea with a smile.

“Yeah, she’s partying, I can party.” There’s an air of both hopefulness and desperation around your brother.

“I mean, we can go drink, right? Little bachelor party for POTUS- SCROTUS?” It’s honestly a bit of a shock to you that Roman is so quick to comply. Then again, maybe he just doesn’t want to talk to Shiv about whatever scheme she's involving them in this time.

“Well I mean… we three kind of-” Shiv tries to step in, giving her best impression of someone regretful to decline such a kind invitation.

“Oh sure, everybody’s busy.”

“Come on. Let’s give him a drink, sis.” With Kendall’s agreement, your sister is outvoted. Connor claps in excitement. “Let’s give him a drink.”

“Yeah! But- but not your usual… stupid places. Uh… somewhere fun- and real! Away from the fancy dance.” Connor stands to tower above the table, talking with his hands as he outlines his plan for the night. ��A real bar with chicks. And… guys who work with their hands and grease and sweat from their hands, and have blood in their hair.”

“I don’t like these guys. They sound like a medical experiment gone wrong.” Roman’s arms are crossed, his eyes narrowed in fake suspicion as Con takes a long drink of his red wine.

“Yeah… I don’t think we have that kind of place just engraved in our memories. Might have to Google this one.” You stand to join your brother, grabbing your clutch as your other siblings rise with you. Shiv is a bit reluctant, not moving until you all begin leaving the restaurant, then hurrying to catch up with you. So you quickly find yourself on the cold streets of NYC, walking (because Connor insisted) to the nearest dive bar you can find in a three block radius.

The bar is like something out of a movie. Like something from another planet. It’s all wood paneling and dark lighting and sticky counters. There’s old TVs mounted to the walls playing baseball and a glowing red exit sign over the door as you step in. The soundtrack is muted classic rock with the clinking of beer glasses over a constant chatter of patrons.

“Ah! America… I missed you.” Connor is immediately out of his depth, blue suit clashing horribly with the plaid flannels of the other customers.

“This is charming.” You shoot Roman a smile at his attempt of optimism, he brushes you off with an eye roll as you follow your oldest brother to the bar.

“Okay, what’s everybody having?” Ken’s straight to business, you wouldn’t expect anything less out of him. “What do you want?”

“Uh- do you think they know how to make a vodka tonic?”

“They can make a vodka tonic, Rome. You’ll just have to settle for Smirnoff” You give him an eyeroll of your own. It’s moments like these you feel so much more normal than your siblings, despite the fact that you’ve had such similar upbringings.

“House red? Do I dare?” Shiv’s comment gets a genuine laugh out of you, and a string of both ‘yes’s’ and ‘no’s’ from you and Roman. She chuckles before deciding, “That- just a club soda with a sealed lid. Nothing from that… tainted nozzle.”

“Con, what do you want?”

“I’ll just have whatever a regular Joe would have. Uh, Belgian Weissbier? Not Hoegaarden, ideally.” Connor’s distracted by his phone, looking down at it while speaking instead of answering Kendall’s question.

“How do you feel about Miller Light?” You get a small scoff from Shiv at that, but Con’s already too engrossed in his iPhone to pay you any mind. You drift over to Ken as he starts ordering the drinks. The background noise is loud enough that you can’t quite hear as Shiv pulls out her phone and begins speaking to Roman. It’s only a second before he moves away from her, but you catch the vague mentionings of Waystar and Sandi before the conversation is interrupted.

“Hey, can I get a, um- vodka tonic, I’ll have a bitters and soda…” Kendall orders for the group, listing out Shiv and Connor’s orders before turning to you for your drink.

“A Cosmo?” You pitch in, receiving a nod from the bartender in confirmation. You turn back to the trio of your other siblings, catching Con in the middle of a sentence.

“-Anyway I am reassured. She’s definitely not on her way to Cuba. Well, her phone isn’t.” You move closer to peak over his shoulder, seeing a little dot on a map lighting up his phone screen. “Yeah, she stopped movin’. Guess she found a spot she likes.”

“Sure…on another man’s dick.” You, Connor and Kendall look at Rome with the same exasperated expression as he speaks. “On a much bigger, nicer, harder, younger dick is all I’m saying.”

“Rome, that’s not-” Your tone is breathy with annoyance before your brother cuts you off.

“Can we not? Because you know, I’m feeling… I’m having certain anxieties, huh?” Roman mutters a string of disingenuous apologies as Connor talks over him. “I mean, I wanna have a good time!”

“Okay, all right. Let’s have fun. We can monitor her dot together.” Kendall’s nonchalance makes you cover your mouth to mute a giggle that you know would’ve ticked Con off. “Let’s- let’s get it up on the big screen.

“Why so long…” Connor points to his screen with two fingers. He reminds you of Logan trying to figure out new electronics when he doesn’t have an assistant nearby to do it for him. “Her dot is at an aquarium supply retailer. That doesn’t look safe- is that a drug thing?”

“No.” Looking behind Con’s back, you see Roman mouth ‘I love him’ across the way at you. You respond with blowing a little kiss in his direction.

“You sure?”

“I am sure.”

“It is. It’s a drug thing.” Roman moves in, working his magic to aggravate Connor in a way only a younger brother can.

“Now she’s at a dry cleaners?” Connor runs a hand through his hair.

“She’s probably getting her panties clean. Mussed 'em up a bit.” They’re too preoccupied with bickering to notice as Kendall waves to your drinks and departs the bar on a phone call.

You sigh as the two boys continue clashing, moving over to grab your drink from its spot on the bar. The drink is good enough. The vodka’s not very smooth and the orange peel looks like it was cut by a 5th grader, but it’s better than you expected from the shabby chic destination. When you start to hear Roman mention cum, you decide to break into the conversation.

“Hey guys. Drinks. Look.” You speak slowly, making big hand gestures like you’re talking to toddlers. It gets a scoff from Roman, but breaks up the tension enough for Connor to come over and grab his (definitely not Belgian, probably not even wheat based) beer. Shiv joins you too to grab her club soda. “How do we feel about food?”

“I could eat.” Connor is still pretty engrossed in his phone, but looks away for a few moments to sip from his glass. For what it’s worth, he doesn’t complain about the taste.

“Shall we grab some menus?” Rome strolls over to grab his tonic, making his way to the nearest table.

“Here? Isn’t that guaranteeing food poisoning?” Shiv crosses her arms, holding her position at the bar as she glares at your brother.

“Come on Shivvy, we’re being average citizens. Remember?” You bite your lower lip in a smile, following Rome to sit at the table. Con comes with you, not even bothering to look up from his device as he just moves with the crowd. She’s out ruled, once again, and gives in to join you three. It’s only a few seconds later than Kendall joins you again, an indistinguishable look on his face.

“Hey, what’s up? What did I miss?” His tone doesn’t give anything away, the same monotone, muttered pitch that you’re used to.

“We’re… eating! Right here!” Kendall sits in the free chair next to Roman as the younger man points animatedly to the menu in front of him. “Billy Ray Cyrus’s Kentucky Fried Shit Shack.”

“Roman, they’re gonna spit in your food if they hear you say that.” You shake your head, a small smile on your face as you turn your attention to your own laminated menu.

“Well, they seem to have some hearty fare.” Connor follows your lead, looking over the meal options himself.

“What was that shit?” You’re glad Roman asks before you do. The question is on your mind too, but it sounds less suspicious coming from your brother.

“Uh- Stewy…”

“Oh great, what the fuck now? What?”

“Well actually guys, can i- can i show you something?” Ken pulls out his phone, screen illuminating his face in the dark lighting of the bar.

“Yeah…” Shiv leans over to peek at Kendall’s phone while Roman tries to tune out the action happening before him. Instead of giving Ken the attention he’s asking for, Rome’s eyes scan the menu before he begins his interruption.

“Ooo, wings! I wonder from which particular creature they snip these wings.” He shifts the cadence of his voice, making his tone all whimsical and silly. “Perhaps a mammal…”

It’s um… on the comparables. It’s- it’s actually pretty fucking intriguing.” The information Kendall gives leaves a puzzled look on your face.

“Wait… why are you looking at the market comparables for Waystar?” You set down your menu as you make eye contact with Ken, narrowing your gaze slightly. “I thought you three were done with the company, completely into your Pierce-thing now.”

“Well, it just makes you think.” Shiv pitches in, your eyes shifting to her, brows still furrowed in question. “Maybe Dad isn’t on it like he used to be… he’s getting pushed around-”

“Fuck, she’s in the East River.” Connor’s outburst makes you whip around in his direction. You feel like a bobble head trying to even out our attention between your siblings. “She in the fucking- wait, no. She’s on the bridge, she’s headed to uh- Williamsberg.”

“Con, I love you, but there’s other shit going on.” You keep your tone gentle with him, a reassuring but slightly strained smile on your face.

“Not to be dicks but- can we do a little breakout chat? Just the three of us?” Shiv is already moving in her seat by the time the question is out of her mouth. Her eagerness makes you crinkle your nose in agitation. “We won’t be long, like, two minutes max.”

“Hey, fuck it. Why don’t we fold them in?” Rome scratches his nose and raises his shoulders in indifference as he addresses your sister.

“Well, they’re not on the board so…”

“Yeah but they have sizable shares, so if the deal-” Roman makes a cutting sound low in his throat, “-they lose their payouts.”

“Excuse me?” Connor’s focus is finally on the group instead of his phone, his hand now holding the beer glass he’d previously forgotten.

“Oh yeah, so, Shiv wants us to get mixed up in some sort of drug deal that will fuck the vote tomorrow.” And all your suspicions are unfortunately confirmed.

“You wanna fuck the deal?!” You can’t keep the shock from your voice.

“Um, no. A small delay, we all want the deal.”

“And, look- I think I agree.” Kendall’s admission just surprises you more, causing you to shake your head lightly in disbelief.

“Oh, what the fuck now?”

“So, what? You think Waystar’s worth more than what Luk- or, Matsson’s paying, and you want to drive the price up?” Shiv and Ken nod in confirmation. “That’s so fucking stupid, he’ll walk if you try to force him to that!”

“Yeah, you’re gonna force Dad to grovel?” Connor steps in again, his expression mirroring yours. “Oh man, how long will a renegotiation take?”

“It’s a play.” Shiv moves her hands in front of her like she’s trying to smooth the air between you, trying to brush the tension away from the five of you. “More money is more money, and that’s all there is to it.”

“I just- I can’t” You stand from your seat, moving to squeeze behind Connor’s chair. “I need a break, just give me a minute.”

“What, you running to Daddy?” Shiv calls from behind you. You flip her off.

It’s not too difficult to find the bathroom in the restaurant, luckily it’s an individual stall with a lock on the entrance door. As soon as the latch comes down, you take a deep breath and let your back rest against the white tiled wall behind you. A hand comes up to brush hair out of your face, you fold your arms across your chest with a sigh. Reasonably, you should call your Dad. You should tell him about their scheming like a good daughter, let him deal with your traitorous siblings in any way he sees fit. But as you reach for your phone, your fingers end up dialing a different number.

“Have you been talking to my siblings?”

“A few of them, yeah.” Lukas answers your Facetime on the first ring, your phone showing an image of him sitting back in an armchair, donning a white tank top.

“Like, recently?”

“I just called Kendall a few minutes ago.”

“Fucking- I knew it.” Your jaw clenches involuntarily. If you were still a child, you’d be stomping your foot in anger.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Lukas’s face tenses a bit, his eyebrows coming up to form lines on his forehead as he questions you.

“Whatever you said, it’s convinced Kendall to fuck the board vote tomorrow.”

“Oh, really?” Despite the inquiry in his voice, he doesn’t seem surprised at the fact.

“They want more money from you, these market price comparables have influenced at least two of them, probably even more board members” Your filter for business information has been blown to pieces, at this point you’re letting whatever you want fly from your mouth. You’ll probably regret it in the morning.

“I figured.”

“Are you really gonna walk if they try to negotiate for more?” You can’t help the pitiful, almost whiny sound at the end of your question.

“Hey, it’s okay, I have it figured out. The deal will be fine regardless of what happens, I promise you.” Lukas’s tone takes on that nurturing tint he uses when you get flustered around him. You know that if you were there in person, he’d be pulling you into his lap to stroke your hair. “This has got you all worked up, huh?”

“I just- I feel so torn lately.” The sharp edge to your voice begins fading as he starts to coax the anger out of your system. “I just want everything to work out and everyone to be happy. And that’s really fucking hard when the people you love are all at eachother’s throats.”

“I know, you shouldn’t have to go through that. You’re just so caring, sometimes you can’t look out for yourself.”

“I really miss you.” Your voice breaks a bit at the confession, fingers coming up to dab at the few tears that have gathered in your waterline. These moments with Lukas are like nights. Nights where the sky is dark and covered in clouds, and every once in a while the moon will peak through the haze and illuminate the entire world below. Somehow, just a minute with Lukas will brighten your entire demeanor, and will change you for the better.

“I miss you.” There’s a sad sort of smile on his face when he continues. “You have to take care of yourself when I’m not there. Don’t get overly involved with this shit, you know it’s ultimately out of your hands.”

“I- it’s like there’s so much going on I don’t even know about. And I’m just over here worried about how everyone feels.”You wrinkle your nose at the mention of feelings. Lukas gives a small chuckle at that, you wiping your tears with a newfound smile. “You should’ve seen me, I got so pissed when they said they were gonna fuck you over.”

“Aw you defended me?” He makes a little pouty face, putting out his lower lip with his best puppy dog eyes to make you laugh. “I love it when you’re feisty, turns me on.”

“Can I come up?”

“Absolutely, just tell me when. We have our company retreat soon, so before or after that I’ll carve out some time for you.”

“Oh gee thanks, cutting out time from your busy schedule to be with your girlfriend.” Lukas gives a fake frown at that, your smile grows wider in response. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

You hang up the call with a wave before tucking your phone back into your bag. Going to the janky mirror bolted to the wall, you fix any smeared eye makeup after splashing a little cool water on your face to calm down. Your head feels clearer after that conversation, your emotions more regulated and understanding a little deeper of the issue at hand. It’s strange how just a few minutes away from your family can change your mood so severely. Making your way back down the wood paneled wall of the bar, you join the silhouettes of your siblings back at the table.

“-I wanted to get married tomorrow. I wanted to spend tonight with my family and tomorrow with my dad and I wanted to get my fucking money out.” Connor’s arms are crossed as you back down next to him, shooting a concerned look to your other siblings. “If I were you I wouldn’t have fucking come back.” He gives you a shake of his head and a glare from the corner of his eye.

“What even was that about? Were… were you telling Dad?” Kendall raises his eyebrows as he addresses your presence again.

“No, I wasn’t. That’s your own shit, I don’t wanna be involved.” He nods, but still has a look of suspicion in his eyes. “Sometimes you guys just give me migraines. But anyway, can we do anything else, Con?”

“...I would like to sing one fucking song at karaoke, because I’ve see it in the movies, and nobody ever wants to go.” There’s a short pause before Connor speaks, but he seems happy enough to switch the subject. Shiv smiles in the background of your view, Roman puts his head down on the sticky surface of the table. You put an arm around the back of Connor’s chair and smile at him during the lull in conversation.

“You wanna do karaoke?” He nods. “Let’s do it, Mr. Bachelor. You only live once.” His face lights up at your optimism, Kendall looks at your other siblings in apprehension.

“Can we do literally anything else?” Rome’s voice is muffled from its position, and Shiv puts a hand on his back in consolation.

“Come on, one song on the night before his wedding. Toughen up, Rome.” Ken deciding to support the idea makes it 3 to 2, Connor wins.

And so, with a substantial amount of whining from Roman, your party makes its way to a new location. This time, Connor allows you to get chauffeured by his driver, sparing you from the cold New York air. The karaoke bar is all modern white surfaces and bright pink lighting. The partygoers range from business men just getting off work to bachelorette parties dressed in animal prints. Luckily, the venue has a private room available at short notice and the five of you are quickly escorted there by a polite usher.

“So, what happens now?” Connor walks to the center of the room, not waiting for the door to be fully closed before eagerly exploring the new space.

“Uh, well… someone has to humiliate themselves in the shame palace.” Shiv holds up an inflatable saxophone toy with a smirk while your brother joins Con on the couch.

“It’s not humiliation, Siobhan. It’s supposed to be fun, remember?” You move to a wall holding a mounted flatscreen and two wireless microphones, beginning to fiddle with the electronic there.

“Think they have "Desperado" by The Eagles?”

“I would imagine they do. Longest night of my life.” Roman is still looking around with his hands on his hips, surveying the room with a grimace on his face

“Oh, shit. She's gone dark- why has she gone dark?” Connor is once again transfixed on his phone, a panicked expression coming across his features as he rambles. “I mean… is this it? Is she going off with some buck and they're gonna…you know?”

“Hey, take it easy. Kendall moves the thick book of songs that Connor had been flipping through over to himself, trying to calm him with his causal tone. “Maybe-maybe her phone just died.”

“Yeah. Have you ever considered that she might not be right for you? This could be good. Yeah?” Shiv is still perched by the tub of comical accessories, saxophone now abandoned as she leans with her hand placed on the counter. “You'll meet someone else.”

“Connor?” There’s a pause in Kendall’s speech, a soft look in his eyes when he continues. “You're not doing better than Willa.”

“I would agree. Do not let Willa go.”

“Romulus.” Ken’s begun to pour the provided champagne, holding a glass out to his younger brother carefully. When you see the drinks begin flowing, you make your way over to your brothers, leaving your attempt at understanding the karaoke technology begin. A chime on Connor’s phone grabs his attention again, a low sigh leaving his mouth before he speaks.

“So… Dad’s on his way.”

“What?”

“He wants us to meet him down at the car when he gets here.” Connors admission makes even you puzzled, looking around at your siblings in confusion.

“What the fսck?” Shiv opens her arms, clearly in a similar state of discomposure.

“How does he know we're here? How do you know he’s coming?” Kendall’s voice takes on a bit of an angry edge as he looks at you. “Did you tell him? Is that what that little ‘break’ was about earlier?”

“No, I wouldn’t do that!” You’re quick to defend yourself, crossing your arms over your chest as some kind of protection, some kind of armor.

“Fuck, you totally did. You’re lying!” Shiv sounds shrill behind you, her accusatory tone making you draw your eyebrows together in annoyance.

“Well, no. I told him… that it’s the night of a thousand wobbles over here and he needs to talk to you.” Connor finally steps in, taking the heat off you.

“Why the fuck would you do that?” You turn back to your oldest brother, arms coming out in an expression of absolute bafflement.

“My life isn’t filled with secrets like some people. I share things, and I want my father to be at my wedding.” Shiv moves to the back to the couch, leaning over it with two hands bracing herself.

“You mean you want the money?”

“Well no- Siobhan, that was not my primary consideration.”

“I mean, what do we do? Do we- do we leave? I mean…” Roman’s moved a hand to his mouth, chewing at his fingernails in anxiety. It’s always startling to you, how quickly he can turn subservient at the mention of your father. “Will he come in? He’s not coming in, right?”

“I am totally down to leave.” You move closer to Roman’s side in support. “I don't want to be around you-” your finger points at Connor in objection “if you pull insane shit like this!”

“This doesn’t even affect you, why are you so upset?” Shiv’s eyes narrow in a glare at you, still suspicious from your current connection to Logan.

“Because it’s evil and manipulative and- fucking conniving!”

“You know what? Just be water, my friend.” Kendall is surprisingly calm in the situation. You wonder if he’s high.

“‘Just be wat-’ Wow, thanks man.” Roman turns to you. “What happens if I kill a Buddist? Do I get reincarnated as a fucking Buddhist?”

“I hope not.” You sigh, grabbing the champagne from your brother's hand and swallow it in one gulp. “Fuck it, I’m really just gonna leave. I don’t think I can take any more of this shit tonight.”

“Honestly I would too, you don’t need to be a part of this.” Roman runs a hand through his hair as he begins pacing across the room.

“I don’t know whether to be offended or not…” You move to reach across the island table grabbing the mostly full bottle of champagne from its resting place. “I’ll just deal with Dad on my own. I’d rather not experience his wrath in front of other people. And looking at Connor makes me want to vomit right now”

“Fair enough.” Kendall is still calm, leaning back on the couch as he addresses you with an expression so neutral that it makes you want to roll your eyes.

“Do you wanna come with?” You make eye contact with Roman, eyebrows raising in question.

“... I dunno-”

“If you wanna run away you can. Just send him another little text later, ‘Sorry I missed you Daddy, take care!’” Shiv makes her voice all whiny when she quotes your brother. She’s clearly trying to aggravate him, get him to stay even if it’s not the best idea. You silently pray that Roman’s strong enough to resist her.

“Fine, I’ll fuckin- stay. Let Dad strangle all of us together, mass homicide.” But he’s not. He gives in to Shiv too easily, makes you frown in empathy.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then. Text me later okay? I worry about you guys.” As you turn to leave, you add one thing over your shoulder with a little grin. “Don’t… don’t let him push you around. As much as I disagree with you, you have to make your own choices. Even if they’re wrong.”

On the way home you finish the bottle, staring out the backseat window of the SUV as the bright lights of NYC whizz past you. When you enter your apartment, you only pause to set down the empty drink and kick off your heels before flopping back onto your bed. Your chest is a little giggly and your brain is a little fuzzy from the alcohol. So of course you decide it’s the perfect time to call your boyfriend.

“Hiii!” You speak as soon as he answers, drawing out the word with a cheeky smile on your face. You’ve rolled onto your stomach by now, supporting yourself with your elbows as you gaze lovingly down at the image of Lukas in your phone.

“Oh, you’re drunk. And sexy.” You laugh at that, it’s always surprising how quickly Lukas can read you. To be fair, you do look really hot. Your cheeks are flushed, your hair is messy, and your mascara is smudged beneath your eyes. It reminds Lukas of how you look after he’s fucked you really well.

“Yeah…I drank a bottle of champagne. By myself.”

“Things went that bad?” His eyebrows furrow a bit as he questions you, clearly worried about your wellbeing.

“Kinda? It was actually Connor’s fault this time though.” You roll onto your back with a sigh, hair splaying out behind you in a halo. You hold your screen above your head, giving Lukas a little peak at the cleavage coming out of your shirt.

“Really? What happened?” His eyes dart to the sliver of your skin, but come back up to your eyes as he awaits your response.

“He, like, went to our dad about the shit Shiv and Rome and Ken are up to. The vote stuff I told you about.”

“And Logan was mad?”

“I assume so? I kinda left before he got there… it was just too much.” Your lips come together in a frown. “I dunno, maybe I shoulda stayed.”

“No, no, you did good. Looking out for yourself like I told you to.” Lukas gives a smile that you can’t help but mirror. He knows how his praise gets you.

“Maybe, we’ll see what happens. With him it’s like night or day. He’ll either love that I didn’t agree with them or hate that I didn’t rat them out to him.”

“Well, I’m proud of you. Regardless of what he says.” His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip, eyes traveling back down to your cleavage.

“Thank you.” You pause for a second just looking at him before you continue. “If I wasn’t so drunk I’d have Facetime sex with you right now.”

“I can tell. Your pupils are so big your eyes look black.” Playfully, you roll your eyes in response. “Call me in the morning, I’ll take care of you then.”

“Okayyy, and I’ll see you soon right? Come up before your retreat thing?”

“Of course. I’ll talk to you in the morning, go get some sleep.”

You do end up getting some sleep that night, following your boyfriend's wishes. But you also energetically masturbate to his past dick pics to tire yourself out. When you tell him that in the morning, he audibly groans at the fact that he missed watching you.

In the end, Logan isn’t mad at you. He’s not pleased either. But, being indifferent is better than you expected. Atleast, that’s what you tell yourself. He invites you with the core executive crew to come to Sweden for a sudden meeting with Matsson, and of course you accept. It means you’ll miss Connor’s wedding, but you honestly don’t want to see him right now anyways. Plus, it means you get to see Lukas sooner than expected. Ken ended up texting you a brief recap of what happened after you left last night. When you read it in the morning it makes you glad that you weren’t there.

It almost feels like yesterday was a dream. Like life is all back to normal now and things will carry on just as they always have. The deal will go through, Logan will be happy leading ATN, your siblings will be happy with Pierce, or whatever they end up working with. And you will live happily ever after with Lukas, ideally on Mars, or in outer space, or some other place that alienates you from all physical contact with your family.

At least some of that ends up happening.

#ao3 #fanfic #fanfiction #succession #succession fanfic #alexander skarsgard #lukas matsson #lukas matsson x reader #lukas matsson x you #lukas matsson x oc #lukas matsson x ofc #lukas matsson fic #lukas matsson fanfic #lukas matsson imagine #snow's fics #a body of impulses

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comphy-and-cozy · 11 months ago

Note

oh I have a marty thot for sure! I’ve been thinking about riding his thigh while he sits back and just watches, kinda unimpressed at the show and telling you “you can do better than that, can’t you?”

Earn It

Pairing: Matt Martin x sugar baby!reader (f)

Universe: sugar daddy Marty

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY). Sugar daddy/baby dynamic, lap dance, semi-public/risque sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, choking, mild degradation, creampie, a little bit of cum play (lmao jfc).

Fridays are supposed to be celebratory; the end of the week, welcoming in a few days off to relax and reset. What they’re not supposed to be are stressful, non-stop, chaotic.

Yet here you are, already thinking about the large glass of wine you’re going to pour yourself when you get home; the only decision you’re planning to make for the rest of the night is red or white.

Setting your keys into the bowl on the table beside the door, you eye the pristine leather sneakers next to your shoe rack, but make no move to greet the person you already know is waiting on the couch. You knew you’d regret having the extra key made for him, that he’d show up unannounced like a poorly-timed pimple, but it’s not like you really could say no—not when you consider that he all but pays your rent.

When you round the corner, bag left on the quartz countertop (an upgrade he insisted on when you were signing your new lease), you finally offer him your attention.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he muses, glancing up from where he’s scrolling on his phone. You do your best to mask the shiver that runs down your spine when his eyes lock with yours. Based on the smirk that quirks up on his face, you’d wager a guess that you did a poor job of it.

“Hi, Matty,” you say. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You need a new dress for the charity gala,” he drawls.

“I do, do I?”

He ignores your attitude, standing up to walk over to the island and setting the invitation in front of you. You glance it over, admiring the thick, black cardstock and gold foil detailing the casino-themed event taking place at UBS Arena next month.

“Black tie attire,” you hum. “I don’t have anything that’s black-tie appropriate.”

“That’s why you need a new dress.”

“And that’s why you’re here right now, sitting on my couch after a day from hell, full of back-to-back meetings, am I correct?”

Matt smiles again. “Already have a bubble bath going for you, my little brat. I’ll be here tomorrow at 9 to pick you up.”

You feel a little guilty for the sass, smiling bashfully at him as he plants a sweet kiss on your cheekbone on his way to the door. “Lock up behind me, darlin’.”

Goddamn him. Always knowing exactly how to charm you to get you to bend to his every will—but not without giving him the kind of attitude that makes his dick hard. A fair tradeoff, in your opinion.

That’s why you work, why your dynamic makes your relationship feel so smooth and seamless and… perfect. Except the part where he’s paying you to fuck him.

Either way, it’s how you find yourself walking along Fifth Avenue, following Matt as he leads you into stores with price tags that intimidate you so much, your cheeks get hot. He lets you browse on your own, warming you up a bit, picking out a few items for work along with a new Yves Saint Laurent purse.

Purchase after purchase. Item after item. The ease with which Matt whipped out his thick, black credit card—you know, the heavy ones that just feel luxurious—almost physically pains you as you try to do the mental math of what he’d spent today.

Finally, you follow him to the dresswear section of Bergdorf Goodman’s, admiring the ease with which he carries the multiple bags in his large hands. You feel well and truly spoiled, thinking to yourself that the dark green lace set he purchased at Fleur du Mal will come in handy later when it comes time to show your gratitude.

“This dress,” he murmurs against your temple, pressing an affectionate kiss to your skin as the fitting room attendant readies a room for you. “I want everyone there to imagine fucking you out of it.”

At this point, you’re used to his blunt and sometimes crude nature, but that doesn’t stop your skin from heating at his crass words. You can’t deny the warmth that radiates between your legs, though, at the thought of him showing you off, claiming you as his, publicly. And, well, how are you supposed to say no to him buying you a dress that’s worth more than your groceries for the month?

The selection is enormous, and you find yourself overwhelmed by the options—lace, chiffon, silk, crepe—all of it doesn’t mean much to you, so you rely on your stylist to select a few options that complement your body type. Matt sits quietly in the corner of the fitting room, watching you try on dress after dress, making barely any comment other than an occasional hum.

When the stylist leaves you to contemplate your options, you glance over your reflection, at the Alex Perry gown that stares back at you. It’s the first dress that feels right, and you can’t help the feeling of excited anticipation that fills your chest when you think about wearing it beside Matt at the gala. Maybe he’d wear that delicious gray suit that you like, the one you almost stained permanently humping his thigh like a fucking dog in heat.

“Is this the one you want?”

You do a final spin in the mirror, checking the various angles and standing on your toes to imitate your height in heels. It’ll need to be altered a bit, but you’re pleased with the way it fits your body and, more importantly, the way it makes you feel luxurious. With your nod, Matt leans forward and glances at the price tag hanging out of the back. His eyes flick to yours in the mirror, and you stew in discomfort for the few seconds before he’s sitting back, apparently approving of the price.

A wide smile forms on your face, feeling a bit like a child on Christmas morning at your excitement. You like Matt for far more than his wallet, but you can’t deny that it feels nice to be spoiled by him, to feel lavished by his gifts and special treatment.

“Think it’s time for you to say thank you, don’t you?”

Matt’s low purr snaps you out of your thoughts, eyes focusing back on the navy silk material that’s hugging your body. The corset bodice keeps you tucked in, accentuating the curve of your breasts, fabric draped across your middle and fastened in place with a large, glittering piece. But the real attention-grabber is the slit on the left side that goes up to your hip, revealing almost your entire leg.

You cast a glance at him in the mirror, a flutter in your chest when you see the way his eyes rake in your reflection. He hums, and though he told you it was your decision, you’re pleased that he likes what he sees.

“Thank you, Matty,” you say, batting your eyelashes at him. You lean forward and press a kiss against his lips, warm and soft—the kind you could fall into with ease. He smiles, crooked and patronizing as he tsks.

“Oh, sweetheart, you know that isn’t good enough. Look at all these bags—all for you. I think I deserve more gratitude than that, hm?”

The hidden meaning of his velvet words are enough to make you shiver, your heart chilling as you realize what he wants. His eyes glitter as he watches you, sees the recognition on your face and the hitch in your throat.

Your voice is hoarse as you whisper, “Here?”

Matt blinks, lazily, with a raised eyebrow, like he’s challenging to you to deny him. Of course you can’t, and he knows it. He leans back on the bench, his back resting against the wall and his legs spread comfortably. It’s a silent invitation, one you can’t refuse, and you find yourself moving to sit in his lap with a shaky gulp.

His hands weave their way to your hips, warm through the material of your jeans. “Good girl.”

With just the right amount of pressure, he encourages you to move your waist, swaying your hips as your ass brushes against his groin. He’s half hard, the bulge firm against you as you set a rhythm, listening for any other customers entering the dressing rooms nearby. The classy elevator music hums softly through the speakers while the silk covering your ass glides against his slacks in a filthy narrative.

A low hum of approval sounds from Matt’s chest, eyes glued to the way you work your hips. It isn’t long before you’re glancing behind you, meeting his eyes as he regards you with his easy, lazy gaze. Beneath the firm press of your ass, you can feel him hardening as the tick of your heartbeat increases in your throat. His signature smirk slides its way onto his face, smug, soaking in the fact that he’s got you wrapped around his finger, willing to do practically anything he asks you.

It isn’t long before he’s stiff, solid beneath you, and you feel an involuntary throb at the size of him. Every moment, you remain vigilant, ears perked for voices—or worse, the sound of someone’s gasp. It reflects in your movements, not lackluster but certainly not to your usual level of enthusiasm. There’s something about him when he’s like this—cocky confidence rolling off of him in waves, his gaze heating your skin—that drives you desperately, deliciously wild, a feral urge in you snatching control of your conscience.

But not right now. And he knows it.

He hums, displeased, and you have a split moment to register his disappointment before he’s purring, “Sweetheart, I think you can do better than that, can’t you?”

The velvet of his voice strokes the flame inside you, sending a wave of warmth between your thighs. Another throb against the stiffness under your ass. His hands remain at his sides, not offering any assistance. You can practically feel his lazy gaze on your ass, waiting patiently for you to react.

He senses your hesitation, knows the reason you’re timid—waiting for the fitting room attendant to come back at any minute and discover the lewd situation unfolding. So he changes his approach, voice honeyed and silky smooth. “Look at that gorgeous dress. Y’look fucking stunning in it, baby. But you gotta earn it, darlin’.”

You meet his gaze in the reflection of the mirror, see the glitter in them that tells you he’s serious, accepting the small nod he gives you. Bracing your hands on his meaty thighs, you resume your movements, pressing yourself into his groin with more force.

Matt’s words echo in your head as you work him—and yourself—into a frenzy. Earn it. He didn’t specify what his… end goal was, but from the glint in his eye you think it’s safe to assume it’s more than just a clothed lap dance in the middle of the dressing room.

How you ended up half-naked, thong tugged to the side, hands bracing yourself against the wall of the fitting room, you’re not sure; all you really know is the feeling of Matt’s weight behind you, so tall his face is almost out of your view in the mirror’s reflection. He’s not looking at you, instead focused on tapping the head of his erection against your ass.

You bite your lip to stifle a whine, staring at him in the hopes he’ll offer you just a glance so you can beg him silently to please, put it in. Eventually, he does, sees the desperation pooling in your eyes and chuckles smugly, pleased at the rash desire he finds in them.

“Arch it for me, sweet girl.”

Obeying, you press your ass out toward him, thinking you’d break your back right here, right now, if it meant he’d provide you with some relief. His warm palm presses against your spine, encouraging you to go further, and he hums in approval at the view you present him: expensive dress bunched over the swell of your hips, ass out, pussy dripping, eyes wanton and pleading with him in the mirror.

“You want it?” he asks, his voice so low you strain to hear it.

You’re almost embarrassed at how fast you nod, not wanting to waste any time. He smirks again, and you know he’s biting back the urge to tease you, instead just offering, in all its simplicity: “Slut.”

There’s a brief moment where he allows his words to sink in, a flood of arousal seeping out of your bare, uncovered core, threatening to drip onto the faded wood flooring of the dressing room. You’re grateful that he didn’t make you beg—he usually does—but then he’s pressing into you without warning and a loud cry leaves your lips.

Your hand slaps over your mouth to muffle the sound, but he’s already gotten what he wants out of you, a more than obvious admission of the debauchery occurring just inside the fitting room. Instead, he focuses on the warm wetness enveloping his dick, watching the way your cunt sucks him in, greedy.

Despite his reckless attitude, he’s aware of the slap of his hips against your ass, and instead of jackhammering into you the way he wants to, he’s opted for hard, deep, slow thrusts; hard enough to have a soft, involuntary sigh every time he sheaths himself to the hilt inside of you. It’s the opposite of a quickie (even though that’s exactly what this is); instead, he’s diligent, indulging himself in the feeling of your tight walls throbbing around his length.

All things considered, you’re pleased with the minimal amount of noises sounding from your stall; though your body shivers when you hear the low groan rumble in his chest. With a glance in the mirror, you can see the way he’s watching himself pull out of your cunt, biting his lip at the sight.

Matt offers a light slap of his tip against your lips before he’s jutting his hips forward, subtly, to rub his length against your clit. The sensation makes you shiver, the slickness of his shaft sliding against the tender button, and you feel the shockwaves coursing through you at the movement.

With his free hand, he gathers your hair in his fist and yanks backward, arching your back until your head is resting against his chest. The sharp pain melds into pleasure, loving the way he knows exactly how to take control over your body to have you dizzy with lust. Hot breath fans over your ear, soft and subtle pants puffing air down your neck. “Fuck yourself on it, baby.”

His warm fingers press into your hips, urging you to move; you do, seeking out that delicious tingle when the fat tip of his cock brushes against your clit, running between your folds. You hear the pleased hum in your ear, quiet, and then the chuckle that follows when he slips into you, a loud gasp leaving your lips.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he murmurs with a low groan. “So fucking wet for me, just the way I like it.”

Matt urges you to keep going, biting back another moan at the feeling of him being buried inside you. Your hips roll him in and out of you, and Matt’s hand trails over your ribcage, groping your breast on its way up to finally land at your throat, fingers curling around the base and squeezing. “Makin’ too much noise. Someone’s gonna hear you, and then I won’t get to flood this pretty little cunt with cum, will I?”

Swallowing the urge to whine with need, you shake your head, trying to tell him with your eyes how badly you want that. His lips press softly against the place where your shoulder meets your neck, keeping eye contact with you through the mirror while he angles his hips in search of the spot that’s going to have you dribbling down your legs. He knows he’s reached it by the way your mouth falls open, your brows scrunching in pleasure when the nudge of him against your g-spot has your eyes fluttering shut.

He hums again, and you know he’s pleased—both with himself for reading your body like his favorite book, and with you for being obediently quiet. The hand around your neck tightens while the forceful punch of Matt’s hips grows more intentional, aiming for precision rather than speed.

The smirk in the mirror, flashed in your direction is enough to make you shiver in his arms. “You think you can stay quiet while you come for me? Hmm?”

You’re trapped—can’t nod, can’t speak, barely hanging onto your last shred of control before you’re succumbing to the release that rips through you. Your legs shake, lungs scrambling for breath as the wave crashes over you, hands clutching the wall in search of purchase. Tears prick at the rims of your eyes, blurring your vision.

Matty’s eyes glitter as he pulls out of you, grinning when he hears the slickness between your legs.

“Love it when she purrs for me.”

It’s only when you feel hot liquid oozing out of you that you realize he met his climax, too, burying the evidence deep within your core. Your shaky legs clench together in an effort to prevent his cum from seeping down your legs and onto the floor.

Matt’s hands linger on your sides to make sure you’re steady before he’s tugging your panties back in place and swooping the dress back over your hips. He hums at the creamy drips on the inside of your thighs, swiping up to collect it on his finger. You don’t even have to be told to open your mouth, eyes fluttering shut when he presses the salty mixture onto your tongue. He hums when your lips close around the digit, sucking it clean before he releases it with a pop.

His eyes are still dark when he presses the call button on the wall with a crooked grin, and when the attendant knocks gently on the door, he says simply, “We’ll take the dress.”

#matt martin fic #matt martin x reader #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #hockey smut

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hogwartsstudentconfidential · 7 days ago

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Dear Students,

Miss me? It's been awhile hasn't it. I've been building up the gossip as well as the announcements, thanks to all of the messages I've received from you all. Suck it Quibbler, bet nobody dms you.

Anywho let's get into our announcements for the week as well as congratulate Gryffindor on their win in quidditch this past weekend, as well as a big good luck to Ravenclaw when they go against Slytherin next week.

Of course in good Hogwarts fashion, Gryffindor will be hosting a celebratory party in the common room this weekend, all are invited so make sure to dress up and let the drama unfold ;).

On another note I have been alerted about a surprise exam professor Sprout is planning on assigning her students so make sure to study, but only after the party of course.

As everyone knows winter season is approaching quickly which means Madame Pomfrey will be packed with sick students. The woman is already stressed enough with you reckless gits so please wash your hands and cover your mouths this year.

Now onto everybody's favorite part of this newspaper, the gossip:

Onto relationships, Congratulations to Pandora Rosier and Lucius Malfoy on their new relationship, the two are very cute together. However, has anyone else noticed the amount of flirting Lucius Malfoy does with other girls? If I were Pandora I’d keep an eye on my man.

Now the amount of messages I've received about Emmeline and Mary being, and I quite “SO gay for each other” is honestly insane. I mean, it's so obvious to everyone but them they're in love. Did you see the way they were whispering and giggling to each other at the firework show? Mary couldn't keep her eyes off the girl.

Now onto James Potter. The star quidditch player and prankster is well known around Hogwarts of course as well as his beautiful girlfriend Hestia. However a little Birdy has told me the loving boyfriend might not be so loyal. A lot of people have been suspecting the boy is in love with another. He disappeared the night of the fireworks to go get “snacks” by himself, refusing company and the only other person missing besides himself was none other than Regulus Black.

I have even received an interesting direct message for Mr Potter I will send out after this of course.

I've also been alerted of a possible tension growing between Marlene and Hestia, my supplier lacked on what type of tension so you take your pick. Do you think it's romantic or are the two girls about to give Hogwarts the best fight of the century? Let me know what you think.

Now back to Pandora, it seems as though she's made an enemy? The girl was recently questioned about a kiss between her and Xenophilus Lovegood. The girl immediately denied the rumor, her own boyfriend standing up for her, but he wasn't the only one. Xenophilus Lovegood also stood up for the girl, I suppose he is her friend but could there be something more? Lucius himself has even spoken of concern for where the girl's heart lies. Could a love triangle be brewing?

Onto some more exciting news, James Potter is handing out invitations for his mother's Christmas ball. This wonderful event is sure to be nothing but magical so if you receive an invite consider yourself lucky.

Oh and Remus Lupin's middle name is John.

Now before I sign out I’d like to say a little something. The Quibbler may be fun for little facts about creatures but it's hardly anything if the spelling is incorrect. Xenophilus Lovegood, it's best if you check your spelling and check it twice.

Thank you for reading this week's copy of Hogwarts Confidential and I will see you all next time. 💋

@emmelineandhervans @wormy-loves-ch33se @james-the-amazing-potter @marls-mckinn0n @andromedashoax @little-king-official @severusprince-snape @the-queen-bellatrix @thehotteststarr @lifeofthe-barty @mary-mcdeal @looneymoonyy @lilyevansoffical @xeno-graphical @pandoras-nox @oxxen--free @cas-not-the-band @flowers-of-narcissus @alicethekindone @malfoy-lu @mystical-magical-me @hjonesworld

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soapoet · 1 year ago

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W.I.T.C.H. pick-a-card reading

Hay Lin; next big change

like & rb if it resonates ♡

01.

Shufflemancy: 7 rings by Ariana Grande

ready for takeoff? well, buckle up, buttercup! you may have experienced delays in relation to your passion projects, studies, work, or side hussles, but things will be picking up speed soon. the more thought, intent, effort, planning, or work that you have put into things even during a stalemate, the greater the speeds you'll be reaching once things finally get going. you might experience this is as an easy breezy walk in the park or a roller-coaster ride, all depending on how much faith you've poured into this. you may hear back from that job or school with positive news, or have a successful launch to a passion project. there could be a raise or a promotion of sorts in store, and you seem to find yourself at the right place at the right time a lot. you feel luckier than ever before and things just work out in your favour. this is a huge relief considering you've had to work twice as hard as everyone else or deal with more setbacks and variables.

you'll be experiencing a very different timeline overall, especially with all the nuisances and heaches that just always found their way to you to take away your focus and drain your energy. your schedule may get a little crazy and hours start to feel like the most valuable currency. this effect is likely to be long-lasting and keep you busy for quite a while. do remember to afford yourself some celebratory rest, too, you've certaintly earned it. but all in all it seems like you'll be enjoying the change of pace and the various doors that finally open up for you, and you've been so ready to explore new opportunities and uncharted territories for so long that it's no surprise you'll want to do and see it all and be on the go.

02.

Shufflemancy: Lavender haze by Taylor Swift

whether or not you have travels planned, be it near or far, there is a distinct element of newness, adventure and exploration coming in for you. something may have had you feeling stuck in the daily grind and routines and had you bored out of your mind. you're about to gain some freedom and independence, almost as if shackles come undone and you get to run wild and free. you'll be meeting new and interesting people, some of whom quickly turn from strangers to lifelong companions and partners in crime. soul family members are headed in your direction and you'll look back to this time later in life and joke about all the funny little synchronicities and how within a couple weeks you could've sworn you've known each other your whole lives.

besides platonic connections, you may find yourself in the spotlight attracting many admirers, especially if you've felt like the sea has been emptied of all the fish. some of these are just fun and flirty encounters that serve mainly to put a pep in your step and make you hold your head up high. there may be drama in store, but nothing too messy. in fact, you may actually enjoy the telanovela of it all. one or two of these will stand out to you, and you might find yourself weighing pros and cons between two people you would seriously consider for something more. so long as you let things happen to you rather than trying to force anything or play private detective, you'll be sure to make the right decision as events and information unfold themselves to you naturally. you may even be surprised by how things turn out when you don't let bias or expectations tip the scales one way or the other and simply observe how the tables turn all on their own.

03.

Shufflemancy: Sleep alone by Two Door Cinema Club

you may sigh in relief as you finally make it out of a stressful situation. whilst everyone else seem to be making plans, you're clearing out your calendar. you may want or truly need to recharge, reconnect with yourself and get some peace and quiet. the world is looking a little brighter and it's easier to breathe again. when was the last time you had the chance to just sit and pay attention to your own thoughts and feelings?you may feel like you've been sleepwalking, living life for a while fast asleep and going about your days on autopilot. now you're awake again, and it's not to go wild and crazy but to reflect on yourself and how you feel. you may be doing quite a bit of soul searching at this time and asking yourself a lot of important questions. and not just asking, but really pondering and seeking answers. who are you? what do you want? what do you need? this journey of self discovery will make you feel so at peace and you'll find yourself unfazed by things that previously would have cost you your peace of mind and good night's rest. turbulent emotions calm down and the pendulum swing slows. you find the grey between black and white, rise above to see the big picture, and make a home in the in-between.

some people may try to rile you up, and others can be disappointed by, or even judgemental of, your newfound calmness. when you no longer show up to fight wars that aren't yours and decide to do what feels right to you, some will take that as betrayal, even when your values still align with theirs. real ones will see that you're achieving more good through love instead of hate and commend you for your new approach and how much it let's you grow. you may be taking a step back to connect with hobbies you've had to drop previously. through working on your natural talents and honing your skills you may find yourself collaborating on a project regarding something important to you. and it doesn't feel forced or like a burden when it's on your own accord for once. allow yourself to enjoy your own company and honour your feelings and interests. even if your change in course ruffles some feathers at first, you will gain a lot of respect and admiration for choosing your own path and staying true to yourself.

#pac reading #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a pile #spiritual guidance #tarot reading #energy reading #shufflemancy #pick a card reading #w.i.t.c.h.#soapy.post

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astarionmademewriteit · 1 year ago

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My Fallen Angel (Part Two of Mission: Chaos)

Astarion (Unascended) x f!Reader/Tav

Rating: Explicit

MDNI 18+ Only. Blank bios will be blocked.

Wordcount: 3.7k

Tags: Smut; PIV sex; Fingering; Blood drinking; Painful puns; Maybe a little fluff.

Summary: After completing the mission, Astarion and Tav takes some much needed time to themselves.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵

Astarion and I flit through the streets, stopping every so often to press the other against a building wall–interlocking our lips as if we are addicted to each other's affections. In a way, we are.

The events that transpired earlier tonight ignited our passions–our unwillingness to keep our hands off one another is palpable. I would gladly watch Astarion level every building in Baldur's Gate if it brought him this much happiness–this much exultation.

By now, civilians have been pulled from the comforts of their homes, and drunk patrons have abandoned their cups so that they might get a better look at the commotion outside. The hungry conflagration where the stronghold once stood feeds on the rubble, debris, and the bodies of dead Absolutists. It is as if we had raised the very hells.

“Gale will have some choice words for us,” I giggle, trying to conjure images of our companions reacting to the building going up in flames.

“Let him,” Astarion chides, “What's done is done.”

We part through the swelling crowd, maneuvering around curious gazes and low murmurs. Every so often he and I would pickpocket the oblivious and cast each other knowing glances when we found something worthwhile. Just ahead, Elfsong Tavern buzzes with music and delight.

I turn to Astarion, “What about a celebratory drink? We can toast to the pile of corpses you made short work of.” I cock an eyebrow at him, excited at the prospect.

“Darling, the longer you keep me from camp and that delicious body of yours, the more you just delay the inevitable,” his amused expression tells me he is considering it regardless of how impatient he might be feeling.

“Come on, it will be fun,” I whine, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the tavern.

He huffs playfully behind me, “Honestly dear, there are far finer establishments than this, but if you insist.” It is obvious he's just as excited as I, even if he would never admit it.

We enter the bustling tavern, patrons dancing merrily while others ponder over the explosion that rocked the city. I order a carafe of wine for the table and Astarion and I sink into a booth in the corner of the shoddy establishment. Astarion pulls me into his lap, and I welcome the closeness of our bodies as I pour us a drink.

“Honestly darling,” Astarion murmurs, “Do you expect me to drink this intolerable swill?” He turns his nose up at the cup, clearly above the substandard spirit. He pushes my long hair to the side, exposing my neck. He drags his nose along the column of my throat, “Especially, when I could be dining on the finest vintage in Baldur’s Gate,” he inhales my aroma, reveling in the way I smell, “I do have exclusive access to the greatest drink in Faerun,” he purrs.

I giggle girlishly, delighted in the way he craves me and only me, “All in due time, my love,” I whisper, leaning my back against his chest and allowing him to wrap his arms around my waist, “At least toast with me,” I turn my head and kiss him softly on the cheek.

“If you insist," Astarion leans forward and grabs the cup of wine and lifts it in the air, “To my little treat and the chaos she wreaks,” He pauses, carefully finding his next words–his expression turning serious, “After spending what felt like an eternity reliving an agonizing death over and over again, you came along and woke my beating heart–you taught me to live again. Thank you,” He bows his head in gratitude.

I drop my cup on the table, my heart warming at his words. I twist my body to press a kiss to his lips. My hand cups the side of his face with a tender touch.

After a moment, he pulls away, an amused grin on his face, “I don’t think you understand how toasts work, my dear. But admittedly, I like your way better.”

I smile softly before raising my own glass, “My love, you paint an aspiring portrait of our love. It is nothing short of a masterpiece,” I clink my glass to his, “To us.”

He nods in agreement and takes a sip of his wine against his better judgment. His nose scrunches up at the taste and he sticks his tongue out in disgust. I down my glass and giggle at his expression.

Before I could properly finish the carafe of wine, Astarion flung a few gold pieces on the table and scooped me up in his arms.

We are already headed towards the door, “Astarion! My wiiine,” I pout.

“How you managed to swallow that garbage is preposterous. You are too good for that place, my dear,” his arms tighten around me as we make our way out of the Lower City, “In any case, there's only one thing you'll be getting drunk on tonight,” he lightly spanks my ass eliciting a yelp from my mouth.

The camp is well within sight before Astarion decides to let me walk on my own two feet. The companions ran up to us, worry streaked across their faces.

“What in the bloody hells happened out there, we saw an explosion and and–" Karlach is on us in an instant crushing me into a tight hug, “I thought something horrible had happened.”

“To the cultists, maybe” Astarion says with an air of nonchalance.

Lae'zel fold her arms across her chest, “Leave it to these two to cause pandamonium.”

“We're fine Karla–wait… did you say pandamonium Lae'zel?” I snicker. She consistently fumbled her words and Astarion and I loved to give her hell for it–against our better judgment at times.

“What of it?” she asks, narrowing her eyes.

Astarion cuts in, trying to contain his laughter, “Oh Lae'zel don't think in such black and white terms.”

Lae'zel eyes us with disdain and I clasp a hand over my mouth trying not to laugh, “Astarion my love, do try to be less unbearable, will you?” I say through bouts of laughter.

Astarion and I double over laughing at our own stupid jokes.

“At least you make each other laugh, tch.” Lae'zel stalks away from us while we try to bring our giggles under control.

Gale is next to welcome us back to camp, although ‘welcome’ might be an overstatement.

“What happened to the plan? All I asked was that you remain imperceptible with minimal casualties. I sincerely hope that you had a good reason for demolishing an entire building! Now the cultists will be at our heels as we venture forth to find the elder brain.”

Astarion huffs, already drained from the conversation, “As it stands, nothing has changed then, has it?” he looks down at his nails, “except less cultists,” he gives a little shrug of his shoulder.

I quickly pull the enchanted note from my pocket, “Here, take this,” I thrust it in his direction, “the message is hidden under some kind of charm.”

Astarion perks up, “Yes, it looks positively time-consuming. You better get to it then,” he grabs Gale's shoulders and turns him around before shooing him away.

As I watch Gale walk away, fully engrossed in his new magical plaything Astarion leans over behind me and whispers, “Darling, I think you have made me wait long enough. Why don’t we take some time to ourselves, hm?”

I turn and playfully swat at his shoulder, “While everyone is awake, Astarion?! What do you think of me?”

He laughs breathily, “I think,” he reaches out and brushes his knuckles down my throat and across my collarbone, “You want it just as bad as I do. Am I wrong?”

I blush at his touch and at his words, suddenly feeling shy. “There's that color I love so much,” he whispers softly, cupping my rosy face in his hands.

I lean into his cool touch, overcome by his words. He pulls me harshly into his body and tilts his head to the side, crushing his lips to mine.

I snake my arms around his neck and jump into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist. He is right, I want it bad.

He smiles under our kiss and carries me to his tent, leaving the chatter of the camp behind.

We fall in tandem onto his bedroll, his tongue desperately searching for mine. Our bodies grind together as our kiss intensifies and I moan under his embrace.

Astarion pulls away long enough to pull his shirt over his head. I remove mine quickly before we are at each other's mouths again. It is as if the momentary lapse away from one another was too agonizing.

Our hands roam aimlessly over each other's bodies. I tangle my hands into his hair and pull lightly and he offers a quiet growl in response–a growl that sends a shiver down my spine.

His hips roll into me, and his arousal is evident against mine. I gasp desperately, needing to feel him inside me. I pull on the waistband of my tactical trousers and peel them off with newfound urgency.

Astarion looks deeply into my eyes before removing his own and tossing them to the side. Instead of coming back to hover over me, he sits against the back wall of his tent and cocks an eyebrow in my direction.

“Come sit on my lap, baby girl,” he pats his thigh and I think I might faint at the new pet name. I eye him for a moment, watching the way his muscles move as his ribs expand and contract while he breathes. The moonlight casts a silvery haze around his ivory curls, and for a moment it looks like he dawns a glorious halo. My fallen angel. His vermillion eyes are unusually bright and clear as they rake over my exposed body–taking in my curves and the way my body reacts to him.

My pupils are completely blown out and my nipples stand erect. The slickness between my thighs only intensifies under his watchful gaze. My skin prickles with gooseflesh.

I crawl towards him and sit on his lap, laying my back against his hard chest. We breathe in unison, relishing the way our silken skin feels against one another.

He brings a hand to my jaw and tilts my head back to face him. He leans in and kisses me softly at first, his pace quickening as his free hand travels down my body. His lips are bruising against mine and he sucks my bottom lip into his mouth–his fangs grazing against me. He gropes at my chest, rolling my nipples between his thumb and index finger. I whimper under his touch. His arousal digging into my back–as if foreshadowing what's to come.

His hand continues to wander over my body, memorizing all of my curves and scars. He stops just before the apex of my thighs, and I yearn for him to touch me–to bring me unimaginable pleasure.

I whimper softly at the anticipation. “Darling,” he chuckles darkly, “Your body is practically begging for me, but I'd much rather hear it from your lips,” his voice is gravelly and thick with lust and my body quivers in response.

“A-Astarion, please,” I practically cry. My body was beginning to tremble, yearning for his touch–for him. My heart was pounding in my throat, something I’m sure that he had already noticed. His hand tapped impatiently just above my sex, and I know he is trying to coax more words from my lips.

“Oh dear, you make such sweet sounds,” he coos with a mixture of love and condescension, “But I need more,” as the last word leaves his lips, he tangles his fingers through my hair and pulls back harshly, and I reward him with a whimper.

“P-please, touch me Astarion,” I mewl. My body aches for his touch and I need him more than the air I breathe. I need to be engulfed by him.

“Since you asked very very nicely,” he murmurs softly. He quickly complies and dips his fingers expertly into my slick folds, “Such an eager little pup,” he coos, admiring the way my body reacts to him–how wet he makes me.

Astarion traces agonizingly slow circles around my clit, applying just enough pressure to ignite my senses. He tugs on my hair until my head rests against his shoulder and my back is arched to an ungodly degree.

As he continues his ministrations, the building pleasure in my core only grows as he drags his fangs against the soft flesh of my throat. I offer him a choked cry, wanting nothing more than to feel him drink from my neck. He inhales deeply, drinking in my scent.

“Feed on me,” I beg, my body longing to feel his fangs pierce my neck–to feel my life essence slip from my body as it nourishes him.

He offers me a low chuckle, clicking his teeth at me as if I were a petulant child, “Patience my love. I want to taste you at the height of your pleasure when your adrenaline is at its peak. I want to be inside you first,” he purrs. His fingers unexpectedly enter my dripping cunt, and I gasp loudly.

A cool hand clasps over my mouth, reminiscent of our entanglement earlier tonight. He knew I enjoyed it. “Sh sh sh. We wouldn’t want to disturb the whole camp now, would we?” I shake my head, unable to speak.

I’m panting heavily as he pushes deeper inside me, curling his fingers to perfectly hit my sweet spot. Pleasure radiates through my body, and I moan into his hand, unable to control the sounds he coaxes from my body. His pace quickens and I can feel myself nearing the edge of no return.

“That’s it, my sweet,” he purrs into my ear, his hot breath tickling the back of my neck overloading my senses and sending a wave of gooseflesh across my skin, “come for me.”

His words push me over the precipice, and I am falling, coming undone around his fingers, and dissolving into pure bliss. My silken walls tighten around his slender fingers as they coax me to climax. My body quivers, the white-hot flash of my orgasm rocking through my body as he whispers motivating words in my ear. I’m blinded by the pleasure he offers me and my heart pounds in my chest. My toes curl in response as wave after wave of ecstasy flows through my body. I whimper under his hand, and he growls in response, only intensifying my splintering pleasure.

“I can’t wait any longer,” he whispers gruffly, pulling his hands from my mouth and pussy. He grabs my waist–his fingers digging painfully into my soft flesh. He lifts me over his throbbing member, lining himself up with my dripping cunt. My body still spasms with the aftermath of my orgasm, and before I can completely fall back to Faerun he has thrust himself inside me, his cock stretching me out–testing my ability to fully take him inside of me.

“Gods below,” he growls, “You are so perfect,” his raspy voice is thick with praise.

I straddle his hips, my back still firmly pressed against his hardened chest. I barely manage to take him–inch by inch until I am flush against his hips. He is so deep inside me I feel like I might lose myself all over again.

He snaps his hips into me and guides my own to meet him thrust for thrust. I whimper, biting my lip to keep the screams from escaping as his cock brushes against my cervix. My mind swirls with unfiltered ecstasy, his movements lulling me into unfettered desire.

He fills me completely, and his jolting pace is both unrestrained and carnal. He slides himself out of me almost entirely, his throbbing head stretching me out further than I thought possible. The sweet burn of his girth inside me is alluring. The way my slick walls cling to him tightly elicits another growl from deep within his chest, and he hisses as he buries himself to the hilt once again.

My arousal rings loudly like a symphony throughout the tent, only motivating him to rut into me harder and with more force. I cry out, no longer caring if the other companions hear us inside. He was claiming my pussy–claiming me as his, and I gladly give myself over to him completely.

He firmly takes hold of my throat, applying just enough pressure to cut off the blood flow to my head, sending me into a delirious spiral that threatens to push me over the edge once again.

He continues to rut his hips into me, my ass rippling with each forceful thrust. Shockwaves of pleasure undulate through me. He tilts my head to the side, giving himself full access to my neck. He places sloppy kisses against the soft flesh of my shoulder and neck, warning me that he is about to take what is rightfully his.

“Feed on me,” I beg. I’m barely able to contain my anticipation.

“As you wish, darling,” he chuckles darkly. His acquiescence to my request further spurs the churning passion in my core.

He bears his fangs, as sharp as our daggers, and pierces the flesh where my neck and shoulder meet. The searing hot pain floods through my body until the pleasure is far greater than the pain. He drinks greedily from my neck, lapping up the blood as it flows freely from the twin puncture wounds.

His body begins to warm against mine and I continue to rock my hips against him–his cock spearing into me and hitting that delicious spot all too perfectly. As my life essence is pulled from my body, a dizzying sensation washes over me. I begin to pant heavily, feeling myself approach another tantalizing orgasm. Warmth washes over me threatening to burst me into flames.

Astarion whimpers desperately into my neck, tasting the adrenaline that tinges my blood. His movements are quick, my blood allowing him more energy than I thought possible. He quickly flips me over onto my stomach, never once breaking contact with my throat and never once pulling out of me.

He hooks his leg under my thigh and forces my legs to open wide for him. He thrusts into me with such force, his assault punishing and feral. I whimper under his weight, his cock thrusting deeper into me than I could have ever imagined. My vision begins to blur, and my breathing becomes ragged.

At the height of my delirium my body tenses as I near the precipice of another climax.

“Astarion, I-I’m gonna–” before I can finish my sentence he pounds into me harder, coaxing the orgasm out of me.

I fall once again over the edge, my vision darkening around the corner as I melt against his tense body. A strangled cry escapes my lips as he rails into me harder, my orgasm rocking through my body with such intensity that I fear it may stop my heart altogether. My brain practically short-circuits as I clench tightly around him.

His own breathing becomes ragged, his thrusts sloppier–and I know he is chasing his own release. He pulls away from my throat long enough for a deep growl to erupt from his chest, and then he is spilling himself into me. His eyes roll into the back of his head, giving himself over to his ecstasy.

Our collective climaxes scream in unison–pleasure combusting through our bodies with unprecedented intensity. My orgasm begins to fall away, and I can feel his cock twitching inside me as the last of his spent fills me completely. His body trembles against mine and moans fall from his lips, much to my satisfaction. He finally stills above me, trying to control his panting.

I reminisce on his earlier words, promising that I will only get drunk off one thing and I smile knowingly–I am without a doubt intoxicated by the primal pleasure he elicits from me.

Finally, Astarion kisses at the nape of my neck, “I’ve missed this you know,” he whispers before pulling himself away. I whine at the sudden emptiness, but I roll over to look into his ruby-red eyes. He grins auspiciously.

“C’mere,” he commands before pulling me into his chest. I gladly nuzzle into him, snaking my arm around his midsection and wrapping a leg around his thigh. He traces small shapes into my back, softly grazing my skin with his fingertips.

I smile sweetly into the crook of his shoulder, relishing his gentle touches. “I love you, Astarion” I whisper.

He gives me his signature grin and gazes deeply into my eyes. After a brief moment of contemplation, he looks at me, adoration overtaking his sharp features, “How selfish I am, to crave something that has no business being mine. Yet here I am now, a glutton for your love.” He leans over and places a soft kiss on my forehead.

I hum happily at his affection. “You deserve everything, my love,” I whisper, “I’m yours,” all the love and affection I feel touches my words.

“As I’m yours, darling,” he sighs longingly, squeezing me closer to his body.

There have been nights in his tent where only grief and pain existed. But then there are moments like this, where the world grows quiet lulling into a deep slumber and we find ourselves entangled–caught in each other’s web, unable to say goodbye or part with one another. Our feelings laid bare for the other to see. All the pain, the sleepless nights are only bearable when we are with each other. But tonight, we rejoice in one another.

We sit comfortably in each other’s embrace until sleep overtakes us. Our contentment in one another coaxes us into soft dreams of the future.

#astarion #bg3 #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfic #astarion x f!reader #astarion x f!tav #astarion x female tav #astarion x tav #bg3 fanfiction #f!reader x astarion #tav x Astarion #Baldur's Gate 3 #fanfic #fanfiction #Baldur's gate fic #Astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #Astarion smut #bg3 smut

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kapeeshkapoosh · 1 year ago

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true love’s kiss

a/n: cute idea i had, inspired by an armin story from ages ago that i read on devian art LMFAO, idk what it’s called but credit to that - however mine is very cliche and has bad writing

synopsis: Gojo signed up for the latest play from the theatre club for one sole reason, the true love’s kiss.

contents: gojo oneshot, gojo x reader, gojo has a massive crush, teenage gojo, no curses au, regular high school, little bit of swearing, cliché play plot, 1.4k words, shoko and geto not helping w gojo’s crush at all, oblivious reader, no use of y/n!

Gojo Satoru x F! Reader

When Gojo first found out that you had signed up for this year’s annual play from Shoko, he was quick to put his name on the list.

At first, he was cocky and fully sure in himself that he would get the main love interest with his natural charisma, since you were auditioning for the main role. However, once he heard you practicing for your audition with Shoko, he was shaking in his boots. Simply put, if Gojo wanted to be the main male lead role so that he could get the ‘True Love’s Kiss’ at the end of the play, he had to put in the work.

Every day from then on, he was devoted to becoming a (temporary) actor. Once you found out about this, you were eager to help him out. Considering that you were part of the theatre club and signed up for the play every year, he was happy to get your help.

He was also bursting with joy that his crush was willing to help him get the love interest of her character.

He remembers the morning of try-outs vividly.

You sat next to him in the hall as others did their auditions. It was early Saturday morning, and everyone was rather pumped up.

You seemed confident, but goosebumps trailed up your arms as it got closer and closer to your turn. Gojo wanted to help calm your nerves, but this guy was also shitting himself as his name was up next and he was unsure of whether he would fumble or not.

When his name got called out, shortly after the incredibly enchanting audition by one of his underclass men, he got up nervously and gingerly walked up onto the stage.

At first, the teacher could easily sense his nervousness, so she started off with some simple lines. Once Gojo eased into them, he really started to shine. He was good at everything, of course he would be good at acting as well.

Once his audition finished, you had stars in your eyes; you were truly stunned by what had just happened. When he returned to his seat, he was confused by your expression.

You were awe-struck, but also insanely motivated to give the audition your all.

After a few more people, your name was finally called, yours being the last audition before the try-outs would be closed. Most, if not all, students had left by now; only Gojo and your theatre teacher were in the room.

Your teacher was excited for your audition; she started off with lines that matched your level of acting, and you quickly got into character.

Now if Gojo’s audition was motivational, yours was life-changing.

Sure, Gojo had been at your plays before during other school events, but he had never really focused. Usually messing with Geto and Shoko as they tried to concentrate on the play.

Once yours was done, he was glad yours was the final one; no one else had been there to witness it but you and him, as well as your theatre teacher. He now understood the importance of saving the best for last.

You and Gojo left shortly after, greeting your teacher goodbye and going to get a celebratory bite at the café.

The next Monday, when you returned to school, you and Gojo both promised to not look at the results without each other. You rushed to school early that day, finding Gojo already in the classroom with Geto and Shoko. You and Gojo quickly ushered over to the bulletin board; a hoard of students were already looking.

A bunch of ‘aww’s and ‘yes!’s were heard as you pushed your way through, holding onto Gojo firmly by his wrist.

Your eyes followed the text on the pink sheet of paper. A squeal left you as you turned to Gojo. “We got it!” You shook his shoulders, giving him a bone-crushing hug after.

When the two of you returned to the classroom, hand in hand, you beaming and Gojo’s pale face flushed with red, Geto and Shoko burst out laughing.

♡

After every Wednesday practice, which usually lasted till 6, you and Gojo would go out to some place to eat. Not that you didn’t do this before, but now it was just you and Gojo.

He had discovered much more that he didn’t know about you before, like how when you got a line wrong during practice, you would immediately laugh, causing everyone to laugh behind stage. Everyone seemed to like you in the theatre club, and it was no surprise when he saw how much you helped.

On most days of practice, you would stay back way later to help the lighting crew and the people doing the background props.

Meaning Gojo had to wait, which he didn’t mind, but it made him look like a lousy actor who was too lazy to help. (He eventually got assigned as the errand boy that had to buy drinks from the vending machine every practice)

He wasn’t as popular on the set as you were; sure, the girls fawned over him, but the males seemed jealous and always shined the stage lights in his eyes during practice. This worked out badly in their case, since you would stop all acting and make sure he was okay. This took especially long since Gojo was the biggest diva known to man. Also because he was more than happy to piss the jealous boys off as he smiled smugly at them while he pretended to be temporarily blinded.

After a few weeks, everything was done.

Apart from the kiss.

Everyone had seemed to tiptoe around the subject, per your request.

You had wanted to kiss Gojo once, and you wanted it to be perfect. Gojo hadn’t forgotten about the kiss though, but he couldn’t get an answer as to why it was never practiced, always getting brushed off and told, “Go buy more drinks, errand boy.”

Slowly, the big night was coming up.

The tickets had all been sold, and everything was practiced perfectly, to a point where you were dreaming about it in your sleep.

However, the entire week building up to the night, Gojo had spent his time trying to piece together the mystery of 'the true love’s kiss.’ He had even asked the teacher, who had given him a vague answer as well.

So, the last option was you.

Everyone was stressed out about the performance, the lights, and the sound.

But Gojo could only think about you.

Today was a big night for the third years, possibly the biggest night for those wanting to continue with musical arts and theatre.

Meaning you should, in theory, be stressing and shitting yourself. But it was the opposite; you were making peace with the cast, and when Gojo approached you, you weren’t fazed. It was almost as if you had expected it, preparing the answer to his question for weeks.

“I didn’t want to kiss you a ton of times and lose the magic; we can only do it once, and I want it to be the best.”

Gojo was stunned and wasn’t given that much time to recover, as the teacher started to count down when you had to be on stage.

“Do your best, okay?” You grinned at him before running to the edge of the curtain, waiting for your queue in the song.

Gojo swore he could hear the sounds of teenage boys growling behind him.

The very cliché plot of the play was the very reason Gojo had signed up in the first place: ‘the true love’s kiss’, that would fix everything.

And it was finally happening.

His breath hitched as he neared closer to you, and the song he had just been singing came to a close.

As you lay in the artificial bed of flowers and greenery, he took a deep breath in. You looked up at him with one eye, your eye glistening underneath the stage light. But nonetheless, a reassuring smile rested on your lips as you peeked up at him, his worries fled as he returned the smile, leaning in for the kiss happily. When he pulled away, just like in the story, you awoke, reciting the final lines of the play. On queue, the dark red curtains closed before you, the audience’s cheering and applause fading as you gave Gojo your most precious grin while his face started to flush an uncontrollable crimson.

Gojo still wasn’t able to confess his feelings after that night, but he had kissed you; that must mean something, right?

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #gojo oneshot #gojo fluff #kapeeshkapoosh #jjk x reader

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f4iry-dvst · 1 year ago

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Pity Party

a/n: first time uploading one of my cench fics feeling nervous - let me know if you want a smut for pt2!

pairing: central cee x fem!oc

summary: after a celebratory dinner takes a wrong turn, Michaela makes sure Oakley gets all he deserves

cw: light mention of neglect

"Soooo, big two four next week Cench! What ya up to for tha then lad?"

Oakley smiled weakly before taking a hold of his glass and taking a long swig of the tropical cocktail. He was out for dinner with a few work associates, his girlfriend Michaela, Marvin and Harrison celebrating the plaques he'd received recently for his music in a posh little bar & grill in the city - he didn't want to be here though. Being grilled with questions from his associates as if he were a ribeye steak wasn't exactly his ideal evening, nor was being out surrounded by so many people. The man never really was a social butterfly and he struggled a lot at events like this even now after his rise to fame. In the middle of dinner, he'd grabbed Michaela's hand under the table as his nerves grew exponentially and his patience was wearing thin; he'd considered just leaving far too many times already but Kayla had forced him to stay to be polite.

"Not a party?"

Marvin's eyes flicked up at the question already knowing where this was headed having heard the story far too many times from a drunk, blabbering mouth, through clouds of smoke. He thought about shutting it down, but it sounded too suspicious for him - he simply couldn't do much at all. The man could see Oakley visibly panic across the table and nervously take another gulp of his drink, which he said he didn't even like the taste of originally, but he seemed to have changed his mind about that one. This truly was a recipe for disaster.

"No I erm, never had one so is just not the forefront of my mind to be fair"

Oakley and Marvin's eyes both cautiously scanned around the table, seeing all the shocked and even pitiful expressions emerge in reaction. Marvin felt bad, really bad. Not because he'd never had a birthday party before, he'd pitied him for that already so long ago. But because he knew the man was about to receive a hounding. Lacey, the woman who helped design a lot of his merchandise, was sat beside Marvin and probably the one with the worst reaction of all. She almost grimaced, obviously assuming it was due to growing up dirt poor or something which well, wasn't untrue. Just not the reason Oakley had confessed to before. He'd finished his drink by now too, so he couldn't drown his anxiety in a disgusting mango concoction made with cheap rum anymore and he regretted gulping it all down so quickly.

"Erm, my parents were erm never really uno, around like tha so like, birthdays didn't get thought about"

His face resembled that of a hurt puppy by the end of his response, tears visibly welling up in his eyes and his nose dusted with pink. People around the table began to relax themselves promptly after seeing Oakley's reaction to their badgering. Michaela had begun to gently caress the back of his hand with her thumb in an attempt to soothe him even the slightest bit but she didn't get very far. Anxiety flowing through his veins meant his arms and hands were all tensing unrelentingly leaving the veins beneath his skin to show far more than they really should. She could feel the slight tremor in his frame as she shifted a little closer to his side to subtly comfort the man and the tenseness of his entire body. His knee was bouncing rapidly under the table and he was glad it wasn't visible to his company.

"Oh you poor thing"

Celaine, a lady who helped design his music covers, was the first to speak up again and she regretted even considering the comment as soon as she did. Oakley abruptly pushed his seat out causing a horrible scratching noise to echo and made a beeline for the toilets. He couldn't breathe at that table, it felt like everyone was crowding around him when actually no one had moved an inch. Michaela jumped up quickly following after her boyfriend filled with anger for the others and sadness for him. It was rare that he ever acted like this with other people, but they were evidently pushing his buttons and he couldn't take it any longer.

"Sweetheart..."

The girl had walked straight into the men's where she knew she'd find him, quickly realising how disgusting these toilets were for such a high-end place and decidedly took no notice; she had better things to do than grimace at tissue paper stuck to the mirrors and piss on the floor. A sniffle echoed in the empty bathroom and Kayla's heart ripped into a million shreds at the sound as she wrapped her arms around his small frame and pulled him into her chest tightly. She couldn't even begin to express how sad she felt for him in this moment, and how much she hated his team for pressing so much. Over the months of working with them, the couple had grown to love Celaine, Lacey and all the others but all of it had soon been diminished because they couldn't just keep their traps shut.

"We don't have to do anything love, or think about your past okay?"

The man nodded, still tucked firmly into his girlfriend and practically clinging onto her shoulders for dear life.

And so when Oakley's birthday eventually did roll around, Michaela had planned not a single thing. Of course, she'd planned gifts and what to eat but she did that most days so it was nothing out of the ordinary. The man had finally indulged in a lie-in for the first time this year - he hadn't the time what with all the work and travelling he'd been doing - so he was snoring way into the afternoon and eventually rose around 3 pm to the smell of hot chocolates and something else sweet. It was far too warm in his room, and even the house, so he had decided against putting last night's t-shirt back on and promptly followed the sugary aromas drifting upstairs to the kitchen where he found Michaela.

"I was just about to come wake you"

On the counter were stacks of syrup-smothered pancakes and waffles with mugs of hot chocolate and a big bowl of sliced fruit ready for his birthday breakfast, tho it was more tea than breakfast. Michaela was beaming at him showing a big toothy grin and he was sure he was reciprocating it, but he couldn't tell. He stood in amazement for a few seconds scanning over the sweet treats and then his girlfriend's face before pulling her into his arms. He kissed her on the cheek and thanked her about a million times before eventually giving her a long kiss on the lips.

"You've smudged my lippie now you dickhead"

"No calling the birthday boy names my love"

The couple fell into fits of laughter still holding onto each other like it was the last time they were to touch before they realised the breakfast would probably go cold soon and took it all to the living room. It was rare they ever ate in there because Oakley was very strict about the tidiness of the house but today was an exception of course. Michaela already had the tv set on Disney Plus ready for Oakley to come down and watch his favourite kids' movie: Lady & The Tramp. He sat and ate his birthday breakfast gleefully, focused intently on the movie playing on the tv with a goofy smile on his face the entire time. The girl could've sworn she'd never seen him so happy in his life, which would most definitely be an overstatement, but he did look happy as hell and she couldn't take her eyes off of him. That light that filled his face when he was just so freely happy was addicting and she would drink it up all day and all night if she could - it was just so beautiful. The dimples beside his lips, the wrinkles under his eyes and the way his cheeks puffed up - he was a sight for sore eyes if she did say so herself. When Oakley had finished most of his pancakes and strawberries he'd put his plate to the side and curled up against Kayla's side, his knees pulled to his chest and his head on her shoulder. Michaela didn't think he could get any cuter than this. The way he was showing so much affection, physically too, really blossomed something in the girl's heart and her stomach was doing somersaults because it meant he'd put his full trust in her and that he felt safe. It was okay to show the vulnerable side he was so ashamed of before with her because he felt respected and loved. He tended not to show too many of his emotions, if any, and especially not when it came to occasions like his birthday - it was a big topic that took him a long time to open up about. So for Michaela to see him like this knowing how much he struggled to open up and be comfortable around people she felt extra special.

"I love you, uno"

It was merely a mumble, because he seemed to be nodding off despite only waking up about an hour before; she put it down to the heat and the fact they were sitting so cosily. He'd most definitely said it though, Kayla had felt his warm breath brush against her neck as he spoke and the way his jaw moved against her shoulder.

"I love you too sweetheart"

He'd tried to tuck in on his girlfriend more but it was actually impossible unless he wanted to climb inside her skin which she was sure he would if he could, so he simply tucked his head as tightly into the crook of her neck as he could and fell asleep with her hand brushing through the curls upon his head. Now he was living the dream.

Best birthday ever.

#central cee #central cee fanfiction #central cee oneshot #central cee imagine #uk rap #uk rapper

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bunnypansy · 3 months ago

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Loveit? (Ep.1/?)

This episode is rated M for VIOLENCE and BODY HORROR themes, if those things are not for you, please, do not continue.

Welcome, beloved viewers, to the first installment in our series Loveit? In this episode, you find yourself cursed by something beyond human understanding. Unfortunately, this episode is horror only and has no explicitly romantic elements (in this installment).

Featuring: Mahito and You!

Beware! This film contains: reader is male but this chapter makes no reference to gender and can be considered gender neutral, graphic descriptions of transfigured humans, body horror, light Mahito x reader if you close your eyes, the reader can see curses, mentions of mental health professionals/medication, the reader is kinda a loser, brief vomit moment at the very end

The psychiatrists claim you’re getting better- the only thing you’re getting better at is lying. All children are honest to a fault, and you were no different; spilling to every person you met about the strange creatures you saw in the corners of your vision, grotesque and monstrous hallucinations. Your “overactive imagination” was cute for one or two years, but that cuteness didn't stick. What was once charming and silly becomes frightening in your teens, and worth medicating when you’re an adult. You were prescribed a veritable cocktail of pills, the medication doesn’t do anything to help- no matter how much you’d like it to. If anyone wanted the slurry of chemicals and hormones to cure your disorganized brain, it was you. Taking purposeless pills seemed like a waste and the side effects were doing you no good, so at some point, you stopped- cold turkey -and nothing changed. A small part of you hoped your delusions would worsen, so hungry for a scrap of proof that you were capable of recovering, but the visions stayed exactly the same. When a remedy became little more than a pipedream, you turned to the next best option: lying.

With a thick smattering of concealer on your dark circles and a weak grin, you insisted to your therapist that the hallucinations had all but cleared up; then swiftly canceled any future appointments. You carefully trained yourself to stop reacting when you caught a monstrous creature following your coworkers, pretending you couldn’t see it twitching and muttering. If acting was your path to acceptance, to the normal life you’d always dreamed of, you’d perform your damn heart out.

To say playing at normality is easy would be another, bigger lie, but it was worth it. Living the life of your peers felt beyond amazing- it was euphoric. Dinner with friends after late nights, coffee dates on weekends, texting on lunch breaks; for the first time in your life, you were content. Part of you was still waiting for the other shoe to fall, but maybe, just for tonight, you could let those worries dissolve at the bottom of your glass. A couple of coworkers had decided to gather for drinks after their shift ended, you listened while they chatted, but never intended to insert yourself; being passed over for such events was so commonplace that it no longer stung you. To say you were pleasantly surprised to be invited was an understatement- the only word to describe your state of mind was ecstatic.

That spring showed in your every step down the sidewalk, your heels lifting off the ground with an ease you haven’t felt for years. Each movement feels feather-light, lead weights turning to sand beneath your shoes- you’re completely giddy. You find yourself twirling in the empty walkway, arms outstretched to absorb the streetlight like a spotlight; the world is your stage, and this is your standing ovation. There’s no audience to catch your childish moment of victory- your coworkers are a few too many minutes ahead of you -but you’re still caught up in a wave of embarrassment when you fling your keys out of your hands amid your celebratory performance. There’s a sharp jingle as they skid across the concrete and to the mouth of an alley several paces ahead, glinting beneath the golden light. You sheepishly shuffle over to retrieve your keys, freshly ashamed of your display from a few seconds ago.

As you’re knelt on the pavement, something timidly parts the silence. Slowly, you’re made aware of a presence, somewhere beyond the light of the streets, hidden from view by the veil of darkness. Your prickles with goosebumps, senses sharpened to a fine point.

“Is…” For a heartbeat, you consider shutting your mouth and turning tail, letting this odd event become little more than a droplet in your ocean's worth of strange occurrences. "...Is someone there?"

You're expecting silence- hoping for it, truly -but you’re met with a murmur instead. The words are garbled and quiet like someone was struggling to speak around the weight of their own tongue. “La… late..”

With apprehension weighing on your joints, you slowly return to your full height, fist closed tightly around your keys as you exit the safety of the street lamp.

“Do you need help?” The points of your keys are carefully tucked between each finger, your voice taking on a vulnerable tone you don’t prefer. “Should- should I call someone?”

The farther you pad into the alleyway, the darkness ahead of you gains a texture to it, the formless shadow of a figure slumped against the ground. You squint and strain to see the person ahead, only sound and vague flickering shadows alerting you to their movements as they drag themselves across the pavement a few arduous inches.

“You…” Their voice is no clearer now, even with only an arm's length separating you. The words are garbled and noisy; as if several voices were trying to speak with a single tongue. “You’re too… Late…!”

At last, your eyes adjust to the low lighting and the figure comes fully into focus. It might've been a person once, but those days were clearly over. What lay on the concrete before you could only be described as a monster, its head so swollen that it overshadowed the creature’s entire body, too heavy for the mangled neck to remain upright. You can hear its teeth scraping against the concrete with a grating shriek as it inches closer. The few hairs still attached to its head are thin and oily, sticking to its pimple-coated scalp. Its flesh is a blotchy, maroon-violet, as though the entire body was one continuous bruise, and the thing groans in agony to confirm that assumption.

“Oh- oh my God-” Where your adrenaline should be urging you to flee, it only makes your sneakers feel heavier than the concrete you stand on. It's the same instinct that makes children stare at roadkill, the same thing that leaves you unable to move and unable to look away. Your body won’t let you blink; the longer you stare, the more you see, and the worse you feel.

Further along the alley, there's a woman- you're guessing, from the pencil skirt that she no longer fits into -so bloated she resembles a corpse dragged up onto the beach, with the cloudy eyes of a dead fish to match. Indigo veins spiderweb across the pallid skin where her swollen throat strains against the lanyard that once hung loosely around her neck; a lanyard you recognize. The collection of familiar cat pins makes it clear to you who this woman used to be: your coworker, Honami. You look again, prying into the darkness, an awful sense of dread crawling under your skin as you do. At the dead end, there’s a figure with limbs so long and skinny they more closely resembled toothpicks; the creature’s legs had snapped straight in half at the shin, rendering the victim unable to move, trapped in a permanent state of being folded over. His face is obscured, but you recognize your manager Tatsuya by the shoes you've spent so much time staring down at.

“You're… late…!” A moist, clammy hand paws at your pant leg, dragging your attention back to the nearest creature. Though you assume this was another of your coworkers, your slow trickle of guilt grows into a torrent of shame when you realize you can't even place a name on this one anymore. “Too late…! You're late! You're late! La...te!”

Those words ring in your ears, joining the cacophony of static filling your brain. You'd seen atrocities like this before- some worse -but never before had they been so real, so tangible. Your visions had never reached out their shaking hands and touched you. They had never been people, either, let alone people you know- or knew. Yet, despite the unadulterated terror and disgust coursing through your veins, there’s a twinge of familiar resignation; of course, this happened. Your joy had gone untainted for far too long.

Indistinct noise behind you begins to fade in; a voice, clearer and stronger than anyone in front of you. The words only become clear when he’s come close enough for you to feel the breath grazing the back of your neck, raising goosebumps everywhere the air touches.

“Hey,” his voice buzzes against your ear, high and plaintive. An insect, a petulant child, something that wants your attention desperately and will have it. “Hey, can you even hear me?”

Hands. One on your waist, the other on your shoulder- you’re absolutely appalled to have someone touching you in this instant -can he not see what’s right in front of you both? Or does he just not care? The tunnel vision you're experiencing is so complete it's made you as good as blind, but the adrenaline rushing through your veins picks up the slack for your sight. The stranger stands too close, the body heat between the two of you should be enough to make you sweaty, but everywhere his touch lands becomes colder than stone. Worse yet, he smells foul; like wet, rotten leaves in autumn; or roadkill that’s been baking in the sun for hours; or mildewed clothing that’s been hiding in the basement; you can’t seem to find a single thing it quite reminds you of, other than death.

All at once, the arm around your waist seems to break itself a thousand times over, weaving around your torso so the palm comes out just below your chin. Frigid fingers grasp your face and turn your head, forcing you to meet the eyes of your captor. Just viewing the figure drowns you in a reflexive sense of dread, as though all of nature had never intended for the human eye to rest upon such a horrible thing. You’re thankful for the shadows in the alley, granting you respite from seeing him in any finer detail; like this, all you can make out is the glint of amber streetlights against small and silver dashes buried in his flesh. Your rational mind wants to say those are only piercings, but instincts insist otherwise.

“Ah! You can see me! Good, good.” The voice isn’t at all what you’re expecting- snarling, furious, or cruel. Instead, he only sounds lightly entertained, pleased that he has your attention now. Somehow, that’s so much worse. The strange man tilts your head back and forth, like you’re nothing but a ragdoll to him; he's a rabid dog and you're a toy to shake around as he pleases. "It’s rude to ignore people, you know.”

Five long seconds of silence feel closer to hours of you trying to will a single action from your body. You should scream or cry, try to run or fight, or do anything but stand frozen and take this without so much as a squeak. Something wet laps at your ankle and you refuse to look- you can't bear seeing it again -but at least the sensation shocks a few syllables out of you.

“Did you…?” The words burn away on your tongue as acid builds in your throat, threatening to leap past your teeth if you keep your lips parted for even a moment longer. You don’t have any rational reasoning behind asking if he did this. He couldn’t have, no one could have, you're just having another episode. The words from decades' worth of doctors seep into your mind, struggling to persuade you that this couldn't possibly be reality. Maybe, if you convince yourself this night is all another delusion produced by your sick mind, the nightmare won't be real when you wake up tomorrow.

He glances past you towards the portraits of suffering down the alley, ones he’d painted by hand, like he had forgotten they were still there. “Hm? Why? Were they your friends?”

Only an hour ago, you would’ve answered no; now, with death looming over your shoulder and a corpse at your feet, a tidal wave of grief washes over you. Your entire face crumples as you attempt to hold back tears- you will not cry, not here, not now, not like this.

As the man leans closer to press his forehead against yours, a thick curtain of silvery hair envelopes either side of your vision. The outside world disappears and in this hell, there is only you and the monsters you run from.

“Aw, don’t worry.” A smile spreads across his face like the plague, and the longer you're forced to see it, the closer you get to vomiting. His arms slither around your body like snakes, constricting you into an embrace as comforting as a straitjacket. “You can call me Mahito, and we’re gonna be best friends.”

When you can’t hold back and finally throw up in that damp, desolate alleyway, Mahito only laughs.

That's all for our showing today, thank you for tuning in!

HIIIIII GUYSSSS. Sometimes I feel like a deadbeat dad leaving my kids to get milk and cigarettes, only reappearing once every 6 months... but Here!!!!! I'm planning for this to go on for a little, can't promise regular updates though. The Barbatos fic MIGHT be coming out in October for a bit of a kinktober type thing? And I got into Black Butler, so I have an Undertaker mini-fic I'm cleaning up that will hopefully be posted soon!

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anonymousewrites · 5 months ago

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Adolescent Antichrist (Book 6) Chapter Seven

Father Figure! Lucifer Morningstar x Teen! Reader

Chapter Seven: Poor Daniel

Summary: (Y/N) gets a nice break from being the one involved in trouble.

“(Y/N), if I theoretically asked you to use your shadows to scare someone—”

“No,” said (Y/N), popping a tomato into their mouth.

“Pleeeeeeeease?” said Lucifer. “I have the best idea for a prank on Detective Douche, and it would be amazing if you could scare him.”

(Y/N) gave him a deadpan look. “No.”

“I would owe you,” said Lucifer.

(Y/N) considered. “No. You still owe me for taking Trixie back home.”

“I thought you were doing that to be nice,” said Lucifer.

“To Trixie.” They held out a hand. “Money please.”

Lucifer hesitated for a moment before giving them ten dollars. “Fine.”

“Thank you,” said (Y/N).

“Now will you help?” said Lucifer.

“No, I’m busy,” said (Y/N). “Due to Celestial bullshit—”

“Language,” scolded their father.

“—I’m behind on my collection, so I’ve got to finish that.”

Lucifer sighed. “Fiiiiiine. Will you at least come to the celebratory party I’m hosting at the end of it tonight?”

“Are you playing a prank that goes on all day?” said (Y/N).

Lucifer looked a bit too pleased with himself. “Of course.”

“…Why?”

“Because he shot me,” said Lucifer.

(Y/N) considered. “Fair enough. I’ll come to the party.”

“Bring all your friends!” said Lucifer. “It’s going to be quite the event~.” He nearly skipped out of the room.

Poor Daniel, thought (Y/N).

“(Y/N), why did we pass a bunch of people discussing ‘lines’ and carrying guns on the way up?” said Marcel.

“Is the Lux having a movie-themed party tonight?” said Leon.

“If I’d have known, I would have dressed up like a Hollywood starlet from back in the day,” said Olive.

“Do you have something like that in your wardrobe?” said Noa.

“Duh,” said Olive, smiling.

“I think Lucifer was playing something today,” said Em.

“Yeah, torturing Dan,” said (Y/N).

“Detective…Douche, right?” said Marcel.

“Don’t call him that to his face, but yeah,” said (Y/N), nodding.

“Why is Detective Dan being ‘tortured?’ ” said Leon.

“He shot my dad a while ago after finding out he was the devil, so my dad is pranking him—torturing him—in return,” said (Y/N).

“Ah, so he’s getting what’s coming to him,” said Em. “I’m not surprised.”

“He’s going to be fine, just a little…shaken,” said (Y/N), shrugging.

“Which of us is from Hell?” said Em.

(Y/N) just grinned and winked, and Em’s cheeks turned red. “Now, who wants to go to the after-torture-party?”

“Me!” chorused the Four Horsemen and Em.

The LGBTQ+ Breakfast Club watched in amusement as poor Dan screamed and ran around as everyone around him “shot” and bled and fell. They were sitting “stage left” with Lucifer, who was grinning and was nearly rubbing his hands together like a cartoon villain. Poor, suffering Dan even had to watch Maze “die.”

“Alright, time for me to enter!” chirped Lucifer, straightening his collar. He stepped out.

“Daniel! What did you do?” said Lucifer, fawning shock.

“I don’t know!” said Dan, almost crying. “I-I was just trying to help.”

“Well…” Lucifer tsked. “Now you see that sometimes when you’re trying to do the right thing, other people who don’t deserve it end up getting shot.”

“…What?” said Dan, voice trembling.

“Oh, I’m sorry, guys.” One of the “bodies” laughed and sat up. “I couldn’t hold it any longer. My arm was falling asleep.” Dan stared in shock.

Mazikeen laughed and sat up. “You should have seen the look on your face.”

Everyone laughed and got up as Dan’s fear and bewilderment grew.

“Bravo, bravo, bravo!” Lucifer clapped. “Job absolutely well done! As promised, wrap party starts now! There’s an open bar, food trucks in the back. Give yourself a pat on the back, people. That was—” He gave them a kiss.

Everyone cheered as the lights went on, and music started to play. Some people went for food, some for drinks, and others for the dancefloor. Dan stood, still confused, in the middle of the actors still clothed in fake blood.

“Guess we can join,” said Marcel, grabbing Leon’s hand and heading for the food.

“Time to dance!” said Olive, pulling Noa with her.

“I’m going to grab some food, want some?” said Em.

“Sure, I’m going to make sure Dan isn’t too messed up right now,” said (Y/N).

“Even on your off day you’re making sure everyone’s alright,” said Em.

“Ew, don’t make it a job,” grumbled (Y/N), heading down the stairs. Despite their grumbling, though, they wanted to get to Dan at the same time Lucifer did (the poor guy couldn’t take much more).

“Countless hours of meticulous planning, dozens of favors called in, so many Easter eggs from our previous adventures,” said Lucifer, pleased with himself as he sat down next to Dan. He patted his arm. “Did you spot them all? 5,004,157 dollars spent. Totally worth it!”

“All of this. The dog, the wreck,” said Dan. “I woke up this morning with no clothes on next to a dead body.”

“Daniel Espinoza, naked and afraid,” said Lucifer, handing him a drink. “Cheers!” They both took a drink (one in celebration, the other in relief).

“I don’t understand how you pulled it off, man,” said Dan. “Even you couldn’t control everything.”

“Well, the hardest part was making sure the Detective wasn’t involved, hence all the illegalities you wouldn’t want to share with her,” said Lucifer.

“And I wouldn’t help,” said (Y/N), appearing on the other side of Dan. “How you doing?”

“I-I’m alive-I-What-You-You knew?” said Dan.

“I tell them everything,” said Lucifer, grinning.

“You were too proud of yourself to keep it a secret,” corrected (Y/N) with a grin.

Dan groaned. “But…But how did you know what I would do?”

Lucifer smiled. “Because I know you, Daniel. At every opportunity to quit, I knew that your oafish optimism would keep you going.” Surprisingly, it was a compliment wrapped in…something else. “I supposed I realized that whenever you’re given a choice, you always at least try and do the right thing.”

Dan scoffed, but it wasn’t entirely angry. “Why, thank you, Lucifer. It’s crazy, but I think I needed this.”

So he’s doing well enough to be introspective, thought (Y/N). Lucifer, however, looked confused.

“I’ve been in a really weird place for a long time,” said Dan. “And I think I’m through it now. I—I can’t explain it. But you really helped me.” He smiled.

“Oh.” Lucifer frowned. “Well, that’s not why I did this at all.”

It was Dan’s turn to frown. “Well, then why did you do all this?”

“Because you fucking shot me, Daniel,” said Lucifer.

They both stared into space and took another drink. (Y/N) rolled their eyes.

Adults are such drama queens. “Well, now that you two are done with this pettiness, you two can put this whole Devil-gun-drama behind you, alright?”

“In my defense, it’s a lot,” said Dan.

“Not really,” said (Y/N), smiling. “That’s pretty much the tip of the iceberg.”

“I know about God. And Charlotte. And Not-Charlotte.” Dan shivered.

“Oh, yeah, that. Man, that was a long time ago,” said (Y/N).

Dan paled. “There’s more?”

(Y/N) grinned. “Wait until you find out about me nearly ending the world.” Dan stared. (Y/N) hopped down from the bar stool and walked back to their friends.

Lucifer poured another drink for Dan. He eagerly drank it. Poor Daniel.

Taglist:

@sammyscreencaps-13

@grippleback-galaxy-galaxy

@scarlettqueen190

@ziro-the-null-god

@sammy-13

@zeros-rot

@ceridwyn3

@technikerin23

@poetoflawed

@slytherinroyalty16

@ilse235

@theurbannoodle

@lookitseddie

@amberforest08

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tortranslates · 3 days ago

Text

Sakuma Rei Birthday Event 2024

Apologies for the long wait! I've actually had this ready since a few days after Rei's birthday, but I've been so busy with other things that I kept forgetting to upload it. As always, please see below the cut for the full translation of the event!

Birthday Morning (mini-talk) 1:

🎵〜🎵〜🎵 Oh my, is that the little miss over there? “Happy birthday,” you say? Fufu, my thanks for your words of celebration. I am truly grateful.

->Were you humming?

I was, as I received celebratory messages from my dear friends. Upon seeing their messages, I began to hum without realizing it. Even though our places of work have changed and some of them have moved overseas…I was simply thinking about how truly grateful I am to be able to receive messages from them.

→I’m sorry for disrupting you.

Oh, did you notice my humming? I’m a bit embarrassed…I began merrymaking without thinking because I received a message from Ritsu.

Birthday Morning (mini-talk) 2:

Hm, you say it is a bit surprising to see me passing my time outdoors? Well, I would not go outdoors if I had a choice, but we have the birthday shooting today, so I thought that I would breathe in the fresh air for a change.

→Do you not have a parasol?

No, this amount of sunlight poses no problems. The wind blowing through the trees also feels quite nice. Passing time peacefully like this is quite pleasant.

→Would you like some water?

Oh? Did you bring water with you on your walk, little miss? While I appreciate the thought, I am yet to be parched, so I am alright. You ought to drink it instead.

Birthday Morning (mini-talk) 3:

Now then, the time is drawing near, so I shall head for the lobby. When you consider the change of clothes and makeup, it is best to allot more time than may be needed. What will you do, little miss? Shall we go together?

→Let’s go together.

Very well, let us away, then. While we walk, shall we confirm the details of today’s shooting? It is a simple matter, so do answer at your leisure.

→I have another assignment, so I can’t. [1]

I see. In that case, I shall go ahead. The crew is waiting in the lobby, after all. Till next we meet.

Birthday Shooting Start

I am Sakuma Rei of UNDEAD. I look forward to working with you today. Oh, so you are the cameraman for today. You took the gravure photos last month, yes? Hm, you wish to quickly take some test photographs? Well then, I suppose I should stand in front of the set. How is this? I do hope you can capture my good side. Fufu, I always look good, you say? If many cameramen tell me that, I may get too full of myself~

Birthday Surprise

Hm? Are we taking a brief recess? It doesn’t seem that we have taken many pictures yet, though…Hoho, you brought a cake? So you all prepared this for me then. Fufu, you’ve even situated some candles on top of it. Well then…Very good. I was able to blow out all of the candles without incident. What’s this? You’re gifting me not only a cake, but a suit as well? Many thanks. Truly, this is more than I could ask for [2].

Birthday Suit

Now then. Now that I have changed into my suit, I am counting on you to take pictures of this appearance as well. Kukuku. It may seem arrogant [3], but it suits me well, does it not? Indeed~ I am truly happy that everyone is pleasing me so freely. This, too, is thanks to you having such a perfect suit tailored for me. Allow me to once again express my gratitude. Thank you for such a wonderful birthday present.

Mid-Birthday Shoot

(After the amount of pictures we’ve taken, the end of the shoot should be approaching…Oh? It seems the little miss brought a camera as well. Perhaps she used it for her previous assignment. In that case, would it be acceptable for me to pester her a bit at the end…?) Ah, my apologies. I was thinking about something. I’m alright, so I’m counting on you to continue the shoot.

End of Birthday Shoot 1

Oh, is the shoot over? Good work. That goes for you as well, little miss. Everything went smoothly and peacefully. That’s right, you brought a camera, yes? May I ask you to take a commemorative photo?

End of Birthday Shoot 2

Good, thank you for taking my photo. Well, this is quite the rare occasion, so I shall sign it as well. Now then, I shall gift you that Cheki picture [4]. Carry the memories of today with you as you return home…~

"I appreciate your efforts, little miss. -Sakuma Rei"

TL Notes:

[1]: It’s rude to directly refuse an invitation in Japanese, so the “so I can’t” is implied.

[2]: lit. “This leaves nothing to be desired/is more than satisfactory”

[3]: lit. “It may seem like I’m singing my own praises”

[4]: Cheki is a brand of instant cameras, the photos of which look exactly like what you receive from this part of the event. They’re kind of like polaroids

#sakuma rei #birthday event #enstars translation

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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 2 years ago

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Hey honey! i read your daemon x summer isles reader and omg this is so well written! (and reassuring until I find fics with poc!reader) and I love the firm how you write Daemon's relationship with family (especially with Viserys) So I was wondering if I could get an imagine of what it's like when reader goes to westeros with daemon, like how she adapts to court routine and even her relationship with Viserys and Rhaenyra, and if you can also write her finding out she's pregnant months after arriving in Kl and how she tells the Daemon and some of his reaction (maybe Viserys has a celebratory feast) with lots of fluffy, please? (feel free to ignore)

Here you go!

New Beginnings

Pairing: Daemon x Fem. Reader (Summer Isles)

Themes: Soft | Fluff

Warnings: Minor hints about Aegon being a loathsome cad.

Word count: 1.5k

Want to be tagged? Want to know the reader request rules? Read all here.

If you like this, please consider giving it a reblog.

Your room on board had been very comfortable, but the journey was long and tiring. The ship sailed continuously, not stopping till it first called at Dorne. Daemon had flown ahead on Caraxes, as his saddle couldn't seat two. As soon as Daemon saw you he took you straight to his guest chambers at Sunspear, the two of you not leaving the bedroom till hunger forced you both to do so.

You enjoyed Dornish food and their fashions. Daemon promised to bring you over whenever his schedule allowed. He took you all over the city when it came alive at night, smiling whenever you ooh'd and ahh'd over every pleasurable diversion.

The two of you would return late into the night and fall asleep in each other's arms.

Next was a sailing trip to Kings Landing.

The journey was more pleasant this time, although the chaotic scenes at the harbour shocked you. Daemon flew overhead just as the ship docked, sticking out a hand to wave at you while Caraxes weaved around the masts of ships, giving crews the fright of their lives.

The captain came over and joined you. "What do you think, m'lady?"

"Everything is so chaotic," you said as you observed the events unfolding in front of you. The ports of the Summer Isles were always busy, but so much more organized. "And my husband calls this home?"

Jorran chuckled, his wide belly rumbling beneath his hands. "Not here, m'lady," he said, motioning to his right. "There."

Your eyes went right, then up. And up. And up some more.

The Red Keep loomed over the entire city like a giant, stone sentinel. Made all out of deep, red stone, it gleamed in the sun. "It's beautiful," you say breathlessly.

Jorran scanned the harbour, wiping sweat from his brow with a threadbare handkerchief. "And your welcome party is over there."

Sure enough, Rhaenyra was there, with a carriage and a troop of Gold Cloaks. And you were itching to feel the ground beneath your feet again. The princess was waving frantically to catch your attention. "And I best be going," you said, as Jorran ordered a few of his crew to go back inside to fetch your trunks, and the gifts your parents sent with you, to be given to the king.

You took a deep breath and sighed. You have finally reached your new home.

Rhaenyra wanted to show you as much of the city as possible but grumbled, saying her uncle forbade her from doing so. Daemon wanted to take you around the city himself.

"He forbade you? And you actually listened?"

"You sound like my uncle," the princess wheezed. "And yes, I did listen."

You still looked out, taking in all those chimneys and windows. "Daemon says candles could be seen burning by all those windows at night."

Rhaenyra looked out too. "It's quite magical to see all of that light from a window in the Red Keep."

The homes grew grander as the carriage neared the castle. There were gardens now, and colorful sprays of flowers that flowed over balconies. You see fountains and little gazebos, and shops with ornately painted windows. However, nothing compared to the Red Keep and its sprawling gardens, its Godswood. You were awed by the magnificent Wierwood tree that grew all white and blood-red.

Daemon took you straight to the apartment you would share with him, to give you time to rest and bathe before meeting the king. He helped you bathe and change, then escorted you to the throne room.

Ah yes, the throne room, where painted windows threw a riot of light onto black and red tiled floors, where the roof rose impossibly high, and where a jaw-dropping throne made almost entirely of melted swords towered over everyone present. King Viserys was already seated and greeted you warmly.

"I must thank you, y/n, for being the main cause of positive change in my brother."

Daemon arched a brow. "When have I ever been less than positive?"

"The time you made off with those Myrish dancing girls just before you left for Essos?"

You smirked. "Myrish dancing girls?"

Daemon groaned. No one likes embarrassing stories of their youth coming out into the light, and Daemon wanted to crawl somewhere and hide.

"Your grace," you grinned at your good brother. "You and I need to talk."

Viserys grinned back, then called forth servants to bring platters of bread and salt. After you had your fill, the crew who came with you brought forth the gifts you brought with you from the Summer Isles. There were feather capes, jeweled feather combs for the queen and all the princesses, and magnificent hunting spears for the princes. Rhaenyra's sons were thrilled. Aemond accepted what was offered with some grace, but Aegon balked, and would have continued balking had his grandsire not whispered harshly in his ear. There were live birds too, all birds of prey, with one, a rare red feathered eagle, being presented to the king. Viserys thanked you profusely, then met you in private, to apologize for Aegon's rudeness.

The days passed like a blur.

You'd spend time in court, keeping to the shadows, watching and listening to everything. Viserys insisted as you would have to help his brother whenever the king was indisposed. You stumbled at first and made little gaffes, but Rhaenyra and Daemon were always on hand to help you navigate sticky courtly etiquette.

At night, you would join your husband and dine with the king.

Viserys was warm and welcoming, but the Queen you found a little aloof and cold.

Aegon would spend the entire time drinking.

Aemond would spend the entire time brooding.

They would then try to kill each other after one brother insulted the other.

Sweet Helaena was lost in her little world sometimes, and you felt for her when she gave a speech one night after Rhaenyra introduced her youngest son's new wife, about how Aegon only noticed her when he was drunk.

"Can anything be done?"

"The laws here forbid divorce," Daemon had said. "Viserys sends her to High Tide more often than not so she can have peace from her husband." He then leaned over to whisper, "He said allowing the marriage to take place will always be one of the biggest regrets of his life."

You sighed.

Rhaenyra would take you with her to the old bazaar, where the two of you would sample the delights from all over Westeros and Essos.

The two of you also came back with heaps of bags and parcels.

You gave Daemon a private showing of some of the more intimate items you brought.

Daemon dragged you straight to bed after that.

You were hoping that would happen.

Viserys would often ask you to join him and his family whenever Daemon was occupied with the Gold Cloaks. He showed you the scale model he built of the old capital city of Valyria, one he made with the scraps of information the Citadel had. You had to correct him by saying the blood temple was entirely made out of flawless blocks of dragonglass that had been fused together by dragon flames, and not limestone, and that dragonglass candles were everywhere.

When Viserys said the Freeholders jealously guarded the secrets of the temple, you said, "Visiting dragonlords liked to talk when deep in their cups. My ancestors liked to listen when the visiting dragonlords liked to talk. The visiting dragonlords gave us a peace treaty and marriages with the Velaryons in exchange for our not blabbing to those not from our islands. I think we did a good job of honoring the treaty so far."

Viserys laughed, then said yes, the Summer Isles have done a wonderful job of honouring the treaty. He then spent the rest of the afternoon quizzing you on the stories passed down by your elders.

You come to share his and Daemon's love of Valyria's history.

After two months, you wake up one morning and realize your courses have not yet come. You speak of this to no one.

Rhaenyra is the first to realize something is up when you grow squeamish after roast chicken is placed in front of you. She pulls you to one side when you develop a hankering for quail eggs.

"Are you?" she beams and points to your stomach.

"Yes. But I need to be sure before I tell Daemon."

Rhaenyra is thrilled to have a baby cousin she can spoil.

Your courses didn't come for a second month, and this time you tell Daemon, by refusing wine.

"Why would you not drink? I thought women of the Summer Isles only abstained when they're with...."

He stops talking and comes towards you, lovingly placing a hand on your stomach when he reaches you. "Are you... Are you really?"

Daemon had always wanted to be a father, was never sure it would ever happen, and now, the woman he loved had told him she was carrying their child. Tears streaked their way down his cheeks even as his lips quirked up. The thought of a child that might look like you both, a mischievous boy or a girl who'd drive her parents to distraction, overwhelmed him.

"I am," you say, even as tears stain their way down your cheeks. "I need to talk to midwives to be sure, but I am."

Daemon whispered to your belly in high Valyrian, before standing up to kiss you and sweeping you into a long and tender embrace, the both of you shedding happy tears.

When Viserys was told, he threw a grand feast, to celebrate the news. It was attended by all the nobles and talked about for months.

Viserys could rest easy a little now. His baby brother had found contentment and true happiness at last.

..........

Tags : @hc-geralt-23

#daemon targaryen #Daemon #daemon x reader #daemon fluff #x reader #reader insert #reader request #daemon imagine #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #Summer Isles wifey #writeblr #fanfiction #Asks

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therealslimshakespeare · 3 months ago

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Hi! I’ve wanted to send this ask for a while but then didn’t because some of the discourse about her on here had some of her fans getting a little upset I think but I’ll send it and maybe u can weigh everything before posting it. Do you have any insight behind why Maureen didn’t go to Brady and Tilly’s wedding? I understand why Gale didn’t and that there’s all that trauma there. But from some of your asks and stuff, I’ve gotten the sense that him and Maureen are sort of friends? And she doesn’t have the same issues as Gale. And they did come the next day so obviously they weren’t busy. I feel like she could’ve went and Gale could’ve just come the next day you know? Because a big issue that I have her with her is that a lot of her kindness is only in regards to Gale and I personally am not a huge fan of girls who can only be nice/ caring to guys they wanna date. And if they are meant to be friends, I would’ve thought it made sense for her to care enough to go to Jack’s wedding. Like to WANT to be there. Because obviously again, it makes sense that Gale didn’t go and as much as Gale and Maureen are a pair, all her other friends were there and I think that you should be able to separate your boyfriend from your other relationships/ not have all your loyalty towards one person alone. But I could be wrong about all of this and I honestly just want your thoughts.

I kinda was torn about whether to have her go or not, tbh, when writing it, so I’m not surprised some folks were surprised or even disapproving of her abscence! I’d love to give a little of my reasoning for why I chose that course of action!

And thank you, first off, for such a sweet toned ask, you’re a peach 💋

Yes, 100% Gale and Jack have the most complicated traumas and relationship at the time of his wedding. To the point where Gale felt it more respectful to not be there for his wedding -not because Brady would have been angry or is not on speaking terms! Oh no, rather, it’s a huge day where he’s trying to shove that trauma behind and become a man and a husband and an all American veteran returned. Gale is unfortunately a loved but very strong reminder of how not ok they are, tbh, and Brady rushing into this wedding so fast practically proves that point.

(Thank Jesus Tilly was a good one and he made the right choice but that was 100% a trauma response and Gale suspected as much.) plus this wedding quickly followed Ida sorta outing their traumas to the Brass, so there’s a bit of a rush for both to separate from each other and also any semblance of being not normal to begin with.

A wife would help with that. The absence of the major you’re tied up with would too.

But for Maureen. Again you’re right that she’s friends with him, and while they weren’t total buddies they were indeed friends and she cares deeply for him, and in that way I would expect her to show. Except, she took care of Gale and Jack THE MOST out of anyone in the direct aftermath of some of these traumatic events. Benny helped too, but I think between Gale and Maureen there’s no one else who knows as much or has seen as much as those two when it comes to Jack. And so her reasonings for not going to the actual sacrament (as it would be considered in a Catholic context) and only to show at a more celebratory occasion was actually her attempt at a rather clumsy form of courtesy.

One that I headcanon Jack understood quite clearly, and so was undivided in being touched that they’d show up at all to congratulate.

No idea if this is just a ramble or at all illuminating of why, even if you might still have a strong case for her going. Thank you again for asking and I can’t wait to get more of this written out so it may make more compelling sense!

#those who can #Buck x Jack #Gale x Maureen #Jack x Maureen

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ultraericthered · 1 year ago

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When some fool interjects onto one of my posts (responding to someone else) about Disney's Wish discourse:

Okay. Just for clarification. I am an English major and I am only a semester away from having an associates. Breaking down movies and books is a hobby and a past time. So here are my thoughts.

Oh, so immediately this "clarification" doesn't sound very humble.

Without a doubt whether or not you consider this to be good or bad is opinion. It's debatable. I personally fall on the side of not liking it. I see why people can like it and I'm not gonna dox people for liking it. It's definitely one of those movies where you could "theoretically" like and enjoy despite it's multitude of flaws.

Wow, this is a mature, civil, level-headed and reasonable tone to take, and for a rational statement! You almost never see that on social media! I'll give this good sir or miss props for that. Will it last?

The plot was overall basic and uninspired.

Unfortunately yes, it absolutely was. Not one of the film's stronger qualities, I'm afraid, and with such a solid, captivating premise too!

What I mean by this is this... The plot was a carbon copy of other ideas and thoughts previously done from their other works. While this is not necessarily a bad thing, for this movie it brings it down BECAUSE it relies too heavily on them.

✓Sweet dreamy eye protagonist who is so sweet that everybody loves her

✓ talking animal side kick who provides comedic relief

✓wishing on a star

✓ female leading crying on an inanimate object because something didn't go her way

✓evil villain

✓magic saving the day

Nice checklist. Again, nothing too disagreeable so far....

These are all not necessarily bad. In fact these are good ideas to have. We have seen them before. AND THAT'S THE PROBLEM

Oh no. Is this Doug Walker argument really rearing its ugly head? A work of art or entertainment is allowed to derive from earlier made works of art or entertainment as sources of inspiration and creative intake but are not permitted to straight up repeat ideas, scenarios, plot beats and character archetypes "we have all seen before" in other works, at least not without "adding anything new of its own"?

Call me crazy, but I think Disney was heavily considering not only children born in the late 2010s, but also the current 2020s-born generation when putting this picture together. A bunch of youngsters who might've not once seen anything like what's featured in this movie before in their early years, which would make this their first big exposure to Disney animated fairy tales just as the animated fairy tales of old were the first exposure to children of those films' eras. Because every time a type of story is retold and ideas are recycled into that story could be someone's first time. That is a fact of life.

I understand that uniquemess and originality are hard to come by nowadays. I'm a writer and original ideas are the hardest to find. What you have to do is take those old ideas and make them new. What Disney did was not make these old tired tropes their own, they rehashed them and expected us to go, "Oh! That's just like this movie!"

It makes the movie lose its own voice. This movie is too wrapped up in references and tropes they've used before to try and capture nostalgia, that wonder they used to have. What made those movies so special was the heart and care that went into them. This is Disney's 100 anniversary, but instead it feels like Disney's catch 100 references to when we were a better and a more creative studio.

This would be speaking to the side of the movie that was NOT geared towards the kids, however. The side of the movie that, because it's a celebratory centennial milestone event, caters to longtime hardcore Disney fans who will immediately get all the references, recognize the homages and callbacks, spot all the little Easter Eggs thrown all over the film. I've said before that I do not believe Disney should've put so much attention and effort into this side of the movie compared to the original story, especially when they made Once Upon A Studio to better serve the centennial celeberation purposes, and that they did so was a huge mistake, being easily the movie's biggest handicap.

Why is this bad? Well don't I have the answer for you!

Alrighty then, thanks again for the honesty!

They HAD a beautiful story!! The idea and premise for this movie is probably my favorite thing but the execution from a professional and eye is awful! You cannot look at this movie and tell me that it is the Mona Lisa when it is nothing but a carbon Copy of what once was.

No disagreement there. I pray this fellow's not seen the concept art and all the information floating around about what we might've had.

It was done in a manner that was so half hearted and so clearly a cash grab they practically insult themselves. The plot was predictable and falls flat.

I love how the second sentence reads like a non sequitur to the first. I've heard the "half-hearted, cynical and desperate cash grab" accusations and I don't quite think they're accurate. I think this was a production that began with a lot of heart and care put into what everyone was designing and realizing in order to make a worthy new original Disney fairy tale for the 100th year mark, but ended with micro-managing corporate stooges "doctoring" the scripting, the scoring, the pacing (via editing), and the overall presentation of the work to turn out something safe and crowd-pleasing that hits off as much Disney quota as possible. Again, for the 100th year mark. And so what we ended up with was what I've called a "beautiful mess."

The villain was interesting at first! He was giving me a similar two sidedness as Frollo and then the back track his character by throwing in an evil maguffin to make him evil because it is clear to anyone who knows basic plot structure that it was rushed and they didn't know what else to do to progress the story. WE COULD HAVE HAD ANOTHER FROLLO WITH HIM, BUT WE GOT A HALF HEARTED GASTON!

This is starting to ramble, but I'll try to make sense of it. For one thing, I do not think Magnifico was ever at any point of the film's development set to be like "another Frollo". His core influences clearly come from Queen Grimhilde, Maleficent, Gaston, and Jafar. And the evil maguffin was not "thrown in to make him evil" - the tome of forbidden dark magic was set up as a Chekov's Gun earlier in the picture because it was what would be A: what would make Magnifico such a formidable threat to everyone, and B: what would serve as the catalyst for Magnifico to break his bonds of well-meaning rationale and discard the mask of mental and moral soundness. The prompt for him to turn to it was very rushed, yes, and his backstory and motivations behind his possessiveness, paranoia, and iron-fisted tendencies needed to be better set up and conveyed prior to this turn. I will not dispute that. But Magnifico, both in his own character arc and in how his spiral into villainy progresses the story, is so much more than "half hearted Gaston", and it really ain't nothing to do with "knowing basic plot structure" or whatever pretentious rhetoric is being used as criticism here.

Speaking of Gaston: You mentioned that The king being shoehorned in as a villain was like saying Gaston was shoehorned. I have an explanation for this. The reason why...

Yeah? What's the reason why?

Now I hope I don't loose you here. This will get a little difficult...

WHAT'S THE REASON WHY? GET ON WITH IT!

In order to PROPERLY set up a character, this goes for Asha too (more on her later), you have to set up their character and what they are about in the first 5-10 minutes they are on screen. In the movie what we are told is that the king is noble and loves his people. There was no shadow of a doubt if this. And then as the movie progresses, specifically at the 30 minute mark it is revealed that oh hoho he is a narcissist and is obsessed with himself. The way they did this was out of the blue and off putting. It came out of nowhere. There was no build up. It was a sweet song about the wishes and then BAM I'm a narcissist who cares about no one but myself. That 180 came so fast they did not even prep themselves for it. It felt like this was a last minute idea.

Well, King Magnifico was noble in regards to his ideology and his aspiration to see his kingdom continue to prosper while also being the one to safeguard the most precious wishes of the hearts of his subjects. And he loved his people...so long as they loved him, gave him constant appraisal and attention and undying devotion, and remained the good little dreamless drones he wanted them to be. Noble intentions can give way to indulgence in one's darker qualities and impulses if "the ends will justify the means" is subscribed to, and not all love is unconditional love. I have heard the complaints that Magnifico's unveiling plays out like a Twist Villain and that he was likely not intended to be really evil but they changed him last minute to pander to the "bring back traditional Disney Villains!" fan crowd. And I personally find it bollocks when the simpler answer is that King Magnifico is a corrupt, narcissistic manipulator with a God Complex whose benevolence is illusionary and whose wish-keeping system is an oppressive, dishonest, self-benefitting sham. Was the execution of the idea notably off in terms of the pace it moved at? Absolutely. This does not make Magnifico any lesser a villain, at least not to me.

Don't get me wrong, I love Asha.

This is a lie. There doesn't seem to be any "love" for anything in this movie coming from you.

She is sweet and funny, but she is poorly written.

Not only have I not argued that, I have actually stated as much!

We are not shown why she is sweet or why she is caring. We are told.

So we're just told that she's sweet rather than seeing her being so get shown, yet you like her for being sweet and funny? Which is it?

With her fatal flaw, caring too much, she is told this is her fatal flaw. The movie doesn't trust us enough for us to figure out her fatal flaw. And it doesn't even really show us that she cares too much to begin with.

Uh, yes it does. Her interactions with her mother and how far she's willing to go for her grandfather Sabino and how quickly she gets to being protective and cherishing of Star show us this. Like, if Sabino really is 100 years old and gave Magnifico his wish when he came of age years ago, that is years and years and years of life that Asha was not around to witness, as she hadn't been born yet. So you'd forgive her if she didn't invest all that much in getting Sabino's wish granted at last because she doesn't know her grandfather all that well as the gap between how long he's been alive and how long she's been alive is so huge, yet her heart cares so much about him and the idea of his wish being granted to him before he passes away that it becomes a fixation to her. She'd been spared lots of trouble and heartache had she cared less.

There are so many unexplained why's, to her it makes my head spin. Why does she care? Why does she want to be an Apprentice?

She wants to be an Apprentice so that she can be close to the king and the wishes he keeps, learn the inner workings of the system, and ensure that the king grants wishes to those she feels ought to have their hearts desires granted and their dreams realized. And this brings us to another flaw of hers that I wish the movie itself took time to notice and actually address as being such - well meaning or not, Asha was hoping that being in Magnifico's favor would get Magnifico to allow her to push for nepotism in regards to Sabino. It ended up backfiring and unveiling the king's darker nature, but it also unvelied something about Asha that the movie then sadly paid no mind to.

Why is she sweet? Why is she the way she is? Is it cause she is naturally that way like snow white? Was she raised to be that way? Or did she have a rough upbringing that made her this way? We don't know. That's the bottom line.

This movie has so many analytical flaws that I physically do not have the time nor the words to accurately explain to you why this movie is technically bad. But I doubt you care to even consider my points and come up with a half baked response.

Aaaand there's the condescending attitude you were holding back! Aaah, color me so disappointed! The "I cannot accurately convey in words how technically bad this movie is" is a cop-out, but one I'll let slide as it gets you off my back. But that other part? I DID consider your points and have in fact agreed with a few of them, and even ones I disagreed with I can see why you'd think that way about those matters. Yet you pre-emptively say "half baked response?" Sheesh!

I bid you a due. I'm gonna go watch an actually good movie.

"An actually good movie". There's another tacky, needless potshot.

Also, you fool. You absolute buffoon. It's "adieu", not "a due!"

#Disney #Wish #criticism #controversy #opinion #hatedumb #haters #disney villains #King Magnifico #disney princess #Asha #references

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