#I need all those gold fish | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

misc-obeyme · 1 year

Note

the brothers have mysteriously turned into cats and the only cure is a true love's kiss from our dear MC! how would that go??

Oh anon, I may have gotten carried away with this one...

I looooooved this request! I'm totally a cat person, so it was fun to imagine how the boys would be as cats. I really enjoyed writing this, so it did end up kind of long! I will absolutely do the side characters if requested, too. :)

Thank you for the request!

Brothers turn into cats and need a true love's kiss from GN!MC.

Warnings: None! This is all pretty fluffy... in multiple ways loooool

Lucifer

You go into his office to talk to him about something and at first you think the room is empty. But then you see the tip of a fluffy black tail over the top of his desk. You walk around it to find him sitting there - the floofiest black cat you've ever seen. You recognize him from his ruby red eyes and the unamused expression. Even in cat form, his displeasure is evident. Someone is going to be answering for this later.

He will allow you to pick him up, but if anyone else tries it, he will bite and hiss at them. He will make an exception for Diavolo and, to everyone's surprise, Simeon. Everybody else only wishes they could get close enough to touch that luxurious shiny black fur. Doesn't want to leave your lap. Doesn't meow, doesn't purr, only sits quietly with an ominous aura.

You have to figure out how this even happened to begin with before you can fix it. Turns out it was the result of a curse as implemented by the Anti-Lucifer League. It takes some cajoling, but eventually Satan and Belphie tell you where they found the curse. They don't actually know how to break it, but you do a little research of your own and end up finding what you need.

Take him into his office so you can be alone with him. His pride will suffer horribly if you break the curse in front of everyone. You tell him what you're doing before you press your lips to the soft spot between his ears. Instantly returns to his usual form, wrapping his arms around you as he does. True love's kiss, was it, MC? You had better kiss him properly now that he's back to normal.

Mammon

You wake up to find a purring cat curled up on your chest in a little ball, fast asleep. He's pure white and absolutely adorable. You prod him awake and he lifts his head, opening his eyes to look at you. And that's when you know it's Mammon. You can't mistake those bright blue and gold eyes. He blinks at you in confusion before letting out a yowl.

Okay, okay, you have to calm him down! He's freaking out as he was obviously not expecting to wake up as a little cat this morning. His loud meowing summons everyone in the house. He scrambles away from them, perching himself on your shoulder. Won't budge from this spot, meowing softly into your ear the whole time. Starts purring if you pet him, but in a grudging sort of way.

You find a broken potion bottle on the floor in the foyer. You find out later that he won it off of someone in a card game, but dropped it in the dark when he was sneaking back into the house and got it all over himself. With a little help from Solomon, you figure out how to reverse the potion's effect.

He's been hiding under your bed while you were trying to figure out what happened. You coax him out, pick him up, and give his furry little cheek a smooch. When he's himself again, he's so happy and grateful, he flings his arms around you and presses you to his chest. The Great Mammon is back! How'd ya do that, MC? The minute you tell him it needed true love's kiss, he blushes profusely, but he's too happy to let you go.

Leviathan

You head to Levi’s room, prepared to play some video games, but the demon isn't there. You do find a cat with purplish black fur staring with fascination at Henry’s tank. He isn’t pawing at it, just watching with his orange eyes as the fish swims back and forth. At first you don’t recognize him, but then you see he’s sitting inside the ring of his signature headphones. There’s no question that this is Levi.

Meows loudly at you when he realizes you’re there. If you try to take him out of the room, he will squirm out of your arms and hide in his tub. Won’t leave the tub unless you’re the only one there. If any of his brothers come into the room, he’ll hiss at them from inside the tub. You’ll have to shoo everyone away to finally get him to come out. Will allow you to pet him for a bit. Buts his little head into your hand and purrs.

Jumps up onto his desk and paws at a video game case urgently. When you just look at him in confusion, he knocks the case off the desk. You finally get the hint and pick it up. Turns out this is a cursed video game. Starting it up was what turned Levi into a cat to begin with. You’ll have to play the game to figure out what you need to do to save him.

When you finally win the game and the credits start to roll, you find out that true love’s kiss is the only thing that will turn him back to normal. He meows lowly and plaintively. He clearly thinks he’s doomed to stay a cat forever. Press a sweet little kiss to his pink nose and watch him change back. Takes him a minute to realize what happened. Starts blushing like crazy. You saved him, MC! He never doubted you, of course! Please give him a hug, he is very distressed from this experience.

Satan

You’re in the library looking for Satan when you see a cat sitting on a book, tail swishing in irritation. The cat has short blonde fur and when he turns to look at you, bright green eyes. You sigh. If Lucifer finds out that Satan tried to bring home a stray, there will likely be a fight about it. You pick the cat up and it instantly starts purring, settling contentedly in your arms. You look at the book he was sitting on and that’s when it clicks.

You don’t have to search for what happened - this book is clearly the culprit. However, the book does not inform you about what you have to do to change him back. So you take the book and find Solomon because he’s the only one who will probably be able to help that Satan won’t hiss or scratch at. Even then, he only tolerates the sorcerer. Anyone who gets too close gets bitten except for you. You have to spend all your time holding and petting him to keep him distracted.

Terrorizes everyone. Let him go for two seconds and he’s knocking over everything, meowing loudly, and zooming around the room. If he’s anywhere near Lucifer, he will deliberately roll around on him just to get his black clothes full of light cat hair. Will roll over like he wants belly rubs then bite anyone who actually tries to pet him.

Finally you find out that it’s true love’s kiss that can save him. The second you hear it, you grab him and cover his fuzzy face with little kisses. He returns to normal while you’re doing this. Once you stop, he looks at you with wistful eyes. He’s certainly grateful to you for restoring him to normal, MC. But what an amazing experience to be in the form of a cat! He’s actually a little sad that he’s no longer a cat, so you’ll have to cheer him up.

Asmodeus

You’re relaxing in your own room when you are accosted by a fluffy pink ball of fur. There’s a cat now purring and kneading at your belly. He looks absolutely thrilled to be there. You look a little closer and see that somehow he has painted claws. The pink and green combo tip you off to the fact that this cat is actually Asmo. He’s got amazing long pink fur and the cutest little kitty face you could have ever imagined. You can’t help but start baby talking at him about how cute he is. He clearly loves the attention, purring happily and butting his head into your hand.

He’s precious and he knows it. Will absolutely rub himself all over everyone’s legs. Will jump into any lap that presents itself. Continual purring. Wants love and attention from everyone. Rolls over for belly rubs and actually allows his belly to be rubbed. When he’s not demanding everyone’s attention, he’s cleaning his fur carefully. Meticulous about where he goes - refuses to go outside at all. Will meow sadly if you even suggest it. You know he’s afraid he’s going to get his beautiful fur dirty out there.

You have to do a little detective work to figure out what happened. You’re searching Asmo’s room and bathroom for some sign of how he ended up this way, but you find nothing. At some point, Mammon notices that beneath all that thick fur, Asmo is wearing a really fancy collar. It looks more like a necklace… a cursed necklace. Of course. Now you have to do some research to figure out how to break the curse. You recruit all of the brothers to help you. It takes some time but in the end you figure it out together

The instant he hears that it’s true love’s kiss that will save him, Asmo jumps into your lap and looks up at you expectantly. You take a picture of him first just because he’s so cute as a cat. Then you kiss the top of his head. He turns back into his normal self, still sitting on your lap. He drapes his arms on your shoulders and leans in close, a sweet smile on his face. Oh, MC, he’s so overjoyed that your kiss broke the curse! He’s so happy, he just can’t stop himself from kissing you again. And again. And again.

Beelzebub

You hear a clatter in the kitchen, so you go to investigate. There you find a huge orange cat in the pantry surrounded by half open cans of something called broiled deathfish. It’s clear from the way the cans look that this cat cut them open with his claws. You’re in shock for a moment until you take in the purple-pink eyes and what is clearly Beel’s necklace. He looks up at you with fish bits on his whiskers.

You think about picking him up, but you can’t lift him for long. So instead you shoo him out of the kitchen. He just does whatever you tell him to for the most part. But if he even sees food of any kind, he’ll do whatever it takes to get to it. You’re constantly trying to get him off of tables and counters. He gets away with a lot though because he’s so cute. He’s an absolute unit and it’s adorable. Will let anyone pet him. Purrs happily. Gets the need to zoom around rather frequently before starting to look for food again.

You find the source of this problem fast. It’s written all over one of the empty cans of deathfish. Literally. The can explicitly states that anyone who eats it will be turned into a cat. Apparently it was for some kind of promotion that was meant to be temporary, but it didn’t work as intended. Fortunately, the company issued a statement about it, explaining the solution for this exact scenario.

You have to get down on the floor to kiss him properly. He turns back to normal, sitting cross legged in front of you. Reaches out and pulls you into his lap so he can hug you. Thank you, MC. You took such good care of him while he was a cat. And you saved him with true love’s kiss. It means so much to him, he just wants to hold you for a bit. Until his stomach growls again. Make sure you get rid of any remaining problematic deathfish cans.

Belphegor

Nobody has seen Belphie all day so you go looking for him. You don’t find him, but you do find a little black and white cat fast asleep in the laundry pile. You’re confused at first. You know about the no cats rule that Lucifer has in place. You pick up the cat who wakes up enough to look at you sleepily. The way his fur flops into one of his purple and pink eyes and the half asleep expression causes you to realize that you have found Belphie after all.

The most complacent of cats. Snoozing all the time. Will purr if you pet him, even if he's sleeping. Will make little half mewling noises in his sleep while his little paws twitch. Will let anyone pick him up. Doesn't fight, but doesn't cuddle, either. Just flops around like he's completely boneless. Prefers to be near you, though and will protest if anyone tries to take him into a different room from you. And if anyone tries to actively keep him awake, he will get annoyed enough to scratch at them.

You have no idea how this happened. Can't figure out how he turned into a cat for the life of you. You search all over the house in an attempt to figure it out, but nothing presents itself. You'll find out later that Belphie also has no idea what happened. He probably got into something cursed while he was asleep. It will forever remain a mystery. So you simply set about trying all the well known counter curses.

You're sitting on his bed when you finally kiss his little paws and he turns back into himself, half draped across you and blinking a little. He's still partly asleep. What happened, MC? He was having such a weird dream. You explain everything and tell him about true love's kiss being the thing that brought him back to normal. He snuggles into your shoulder. He didn't really care too much about being a cat, since he was asleep most of the time anyway. But he's happy that you saved him. Kisses your cheek before starting to fall asleep again.

masterlist | part 2 with the side characters | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me brothers #request #anon request #misc writes

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whocaresstillthelouvre · 2 months

Text

18 Seasons

A Joel Miller baseball player AU.

Pairing: Baseball player Joel Miller x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Joel Miller has only ever known playing baseball for his hometown team, and they’ve just announced they’re not resigning him. He heads to a fancy hotel bar to drink alone and wallow. He doesn’t except to find you, the team owner’s daughter, there. Warnings: smut, baseball talk, drinking, banter (reader has a smart mouth and Joel’s got that asshole voice), unprotected p in v (but a discussion on testing and reader has an IUD), F receiving oral, Joel’s 42, reader’s in her late 30’s. Words: 4,900 A/N: Happy 2024 Baseball Season! I’ve always thought Joel Miller would make a good baseball player, though I’m not sure if I just want to see him in tight baseball pants and that’s why I think that. 🤔 Anyways, this might be a bit of an adventure in me coping with the fact that my current favorite ballplayer is over 40 and only signed a minor league contract to play this season. Also, shout out to said favorite baseball player’s arm for being part of the cover of this, feels very Joel Miller to me. Hope you enjoy!

Masterlist Playlist

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"The Austin Capitals thank first baseman Joel Miller for his time and dedication to the team for the past 18 seasons. Miller is a six time All-Star, two time batting champion, and two time Gold Glove winner. He signed with his hometown team in the second round of the draft twenty three years ago and has been a great contribution both on and off the field. The organization will not be able to provide Miller with the proper playing time, with the current roster and plans for the upcoming season. We thank him for his years of service and he will forever be a part of the Capitals family."

Joel knew it was coming, it was inevitable. He had been warned of it multiple times, his agent straight and to the point about his chances, his brother and Maria more analytical and sympathetic, and his sweet Sarah so chipper and hopeful for him.

For twenty three years he’s only known the Capitals. The only thing he’s ever been good at, baseball… he’s never been so good at anything else really, save maybe for wood working or fishing, but those were hobbies. Baseball was his job, he knows he’s a lucky son of a bitch who got to do this full time, and now it’s all over, he’s unemployed.

Joel needs a drink. The stronger, the better.

DING. DING.

DING. DING. DING.

DING. DING.

He also needs to turn off his phone.

“What can I get you?”

“Gin martini, dirty please.”

“Should I charge it to your room?”

“Ye–“

“No, you can put it on my tab." You turn towards the deep voice, you’re used to the southern accent, you grew up around it, but this timbre is different and yet so familiar.

“Joel?” What the hell?

He lifts his glass towards you, his dark brown eyes shining at you from across the bar.

You haven’t seen him in quite a few years, ever since you got the hell out of Texas, moving to New York and betraying your home state for packed subway cars and better politics.

He stands and walks towards you, he looks just as good as you remembered. Broad, strong, and too damn handsome to be alone on what you know might be the worst night of his life.

“Figured you wouldn’t waste your time on any of that fruity drink stuff,” he nods towards your drink as it’s placed in front of you.

“Too much sugar gives me a headache.”

“Mm,” Joel gulps down the rest of his drink and signals the bartender for another.

“…How are you holding up? I’m really sor—“

“M’fine. Was expected.”

He doesn’t want to talk about it. Understood.

Joel Miller was never one for talking, or the media. He’d give them a nod and a quick answer before moving on to the next nuisance. Talking was never his job, you know this. Your dad would sometimes complain about how his star player couldn’t play nice with the reporters. You always admired Joel’s candidness, it’s one of the things that you found most attractive about him. He was always honest, whether it was a good thing or a bad thing depended on how high the team was in the standings. You’re going to miss him on your team, but you can’t let him know that.

“So, why exactly are you back here in Texas?”

“It’s my Mom’s birthday, she’s tired of visiting me in New York, was guilted back here as part of her present.”

“Mm. New York, hate playing in New York.”

“Likely thing to hear you say. Guess I should ask you what you’re doing in a fancy hotel bar in the city you live in?”

“S’quiet here, it’s the fanciest hotel ‘round here, nobody who stays here cares about baseball. Not a lot of people recognize me without the hat on.”

“Ouch. I care about baseball.”

“Yeah, and you don’t belong in a place like this,” Joel pivots to look at you, his arm resting on the bar top.

“Where do I belong, Joel?” You angle your body to look at him and swallow down the last bit of your drink.

“Some place cozier, not as cold and… corporate as this place. Some place… hip.”

Your head tips back in laughter. “Hip?! I have a phone case with ducks on it, I cried at the same part I always cry at during Paddington 2 last night. I’m far from hip, what a funny word.”

“Dunno, always got the idea you’re cooler than me.”

“Okay pro baseball player.”

“Not so pro now,” Joel scours.

“Hey, sorry,” you place your hand on his forearm, a perfunctory touch. You had zero decision on the matter, and yet you feel so much guilt over it. You know what this game meant to him and you know he made it known he wanted to return.

“S’alright. Just weird to know I’m done for.” He looks down and focuses on his hand rubbing back and forth on the rim of the glass. A nervous tell. Your hand remains on his arm, Joel makes no attempt to move away.

“You’re not done for, I’m sure another team would like you.”

“Don’t want another team. My daughter grew up here. Hell, I grew up here. My brother’s here. Sarah just started college here. I couldn’t move away.”

His daughter. The big story of Joel’s first year was how the star rookie, was also a father to a newborn baby girl. Juggling a .300 average and fatherhood.

“Wow, she’s in college, huh? I remember seeing her at the stadium all of the time, reminded me of how I grew up there too.”

“Time flies,” a wistful smile on his face as Joel signals the bartender for another round of drinks for the two of you.

Goodness he’s gorgeous. You’ve always found him attractive, ever since he was signed right out of high school. All tall, golden skinned and muscular, now his form is a little more filled out, his muscles less defined but still fully there. His arms and thighs thicker now, a small gut protruding, but still solid and muscular. His speed to round the bases is a lot slower these days but his power and batting eye are stronger from years of playing. He was a school girl crush for you, a stadium give away bobble head of his still sits in your office under the ruse that he was your team’s biggest player. Now you don’t know what to call it, you’re long past school girl crushes. All you know is now, over twenty years later, he’s still one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen. Time sure does fly.

“Are you staying here tonight?” You cut the silence between the two of you, both of you facing the bar and quietly sipping your drinks. Joel’s eyes looking a little heavier, the alcohol taking its effect on him. You feel good, a lot lighter, but happy to sit and allow Joel to ponder.

“Planned on it. Booked a room. Figured I’d get drunk and go pass out, take care of everything I have to tomorrow. Just don’t want to deal with it tonight.”

“I understand that, just didn’t know if you needed car service home, I could have ordered you one.”

“Dad’s money, right?” Joel bites out condescendingly.

“Or, my money, you asshole,” you bark back. You know he’s pissed off at the world but there’s no need for his tone to be so mean towards you.

“Sorry, still kinda pissed off at your family.”

“My family? You mean my dad? I had nothing to do with it, my mother had nothing to do with it. You can be pissed off at him, but you’re also not getting any younger and believe it or not our farm system and minors are stacked with talent waiting to play.” You try to calm your voice as you gulp a drink down from your newly made martini. You don’t want to be pissed off and drunk but goodness the cold gin cools your heated body. “You’re old Joel, and you know it.”

“Of course I know it sweetheart, but I know I’m still better than most of those kids.”

“Yeah, well, stop getting injured and batting .220 and prove it.”

“Damn, you got a smart mouth,” Joel leers at you.

“Not to mention all the time and effort spent on keeping your body in playing shape. I’m sorry, you’re ancient in sports standards.”

“Real fuckin’ smart mouth, huh?” Joel leans in and whispers, “I like it.”

You fight the urge to moan, to give an audible to the feeling that’s now coursing through your body from those three words snarled into your ear.

You feel the same feelings you felt those few years ago, while out with the team celebrating their playoff series win. Drinks flowing, cigars puffing plumes of smoke into the air, conversations shouted above music, bodies sweating and glowing different hues under the lights on the dance floor. The Capitals were heading to the World Series for the first time in twenty years, thanks to Joel Miller’s walk-off home run. Teary hugs shared with your family and friends as you watched him round the bases, it may have been the happiest you’d ever seen your dad. Hell, it may have been the happiest you’d ever been. You didn’t think the night could get any better, until Joel backed you into a corner of the club and stuck his tongue in your mouth and his hand up your dress. You don’t know if you’ve still forgiven him for pulling his fingers out of you and wiping the wet of your orgasm on his jeans before slurring out, “Fuck, I shouldn’t have done that,” as he backed away and left, leaving you all weak kneed and blissed out panting for air.

You did agree though, he really shouldn’t have, the scandal that could’ve been brought on if the owner’s daughter was spotted in that position with the team’s star baseball player. He’s one of the reasons why you moved away, he was off limits and it drove you crazy. You casually dated, you slept with strangers, you spent three years with your ex who you thought you’d settle for and marry, but that night never escaped you. Sometimes you’d reach your hand between your legs and touch yourself while you remembered the look in his eyes as he nodded his head to signal you to follow him into that desolate space. Like he always wanted you as much as you always wanted him and he was seizing the opportunity.

“I’m just letting you know what we’re all seeing. Trust me, I don’t want to see you in any other colors than the Capitals color. Red suits you.” If you’re being honest, you really prefer him in the olive green button up shirt he’s wearing tonight. The top few buttons of it unbuttoned to relieve the stretched seams around his large shoulders giving you a peek of the gold chain he always wears resting against the bronzed skin of his neck and chest.

“Mm, whatever the color you want to call this is,” Joel grabs the shoulder of your shirt and rubs the fabric between his fingers, “suits you.”

“I call it aquamarine, most would just call it light blue.”

“S’pretty, s’soft.” You wonder if he can see how rapid your heart is beating or the swallow of air you gulp down as his eyes linger on your chest and neck. “Fits real well.”

“Thanks, bought it at one those real fancy stores they have in New York,” you lift your shoulder causing Joel to pull his hand back.

“Do the boys in New York like you in this color?” Joel’s words drip with the sarcastic tone he’s famous for.

“Worked a couple of weeks ago with a guy. HUGE New York fan,” you emphasize huge, two can play that game. “Like, big, real big.”

“Mm,” Joel’s nostrils flare. “He your last? This… New York fan?”

“Yep,” you smile through your glass taking a drink and licking your lips.

“Mm,” Joel’s eyes don’t leave your mouth. “And why’s that?”

“Been busy, haven’t found anybody that’s piqued my interest, I guess.”

“And what was so special about him?”

“Not sure,” you shrug, “he was good looking and paid for my martinis. I wanted him, he wanted me, the classic hook up.”

“Talk to him since?”

“Here and there, he seems nice enough." “Mm,” Joel licks his lips as he leans forward placing his arm on the back of your chair and turning it to swivel towards him, his other arm rests on the bar, caging you in between. “You want nice?” You can feel the heat radiating off his body, see the freckles on his skin from years of playing ball in the sun, smell the whiskey on his breath mixed with the soap on his skin. You’re so close you can almost count the gray hairs just beginning to tint his dark hair lighter. You want him.

“Not really. Plus, he was younger than me, I’m pretty sure I like older men.” You challenge him. You can compete with the best of them, and Joel’s one of the best, he’s made millions of dollars over the years just from being competitive.

“Mm,” Joel moves the hand from the back of your chair to your shoulder, rubbing his thumb back and forth, his touch igniting your core.

“How long has it been for… you?” Your words come out a little too nervous than you’d like them to be.

“Few months, not sure. Don’t like that type of distraction during the season.”

“A celibate?”

“No, not that, just don’t have the time with deal with all that, between Sarah’s senior year ‘n me having to focus more on my regimen, ya’ know since I’m ancient.”

“Mm,” you copy Joel’s sound. He smirks.

“Never been my scene to meet someone, fuck them, and leave the next morning.” Your body tenses at his words. “I prefer to know someone before I touch ‘em. Too many people out there just want to say they slept with a ballplayer and move on. Not for me.”

The hushed tone of Joel’s voice and his proximity to you begins to take its toll on you, you feel so hot and quite flustered. “I understand that.”

“You ever been with a ballplayer? Ya’ know since you’re involved in the business.”

“I haven’t… just what we did in that club after the playoff win,” you blink at him, willing him to tell you he wants more.

“You want to do more than just that with a ballplayer?” Joel’s accent dropping an octave as he whispers the question out.

“I do,” you just as quietly confess.

“You want to do more than just that with me?” he leans in closer.

“I do.”

“Alright sweetheart, your room or mine?”

“I have the suite, so mine.”

“Should’ve charged the drinks to your room then.” Joel turns and gets the bartender’s attention.

It’s becoming real. You calm your nerves as Joel signs the check and moves off the stool, you following him through the bar and lobby before reaching the elevator.

All you expected to do tonight was have a couple of drinks while reading a book in a quiet corner of the bar before ordering room service and watching whatever movie you can find on hotel TV. You’re now headed up to your room with Joel Miller.

The elevator doors ding open, empty with nobody following behind you. It’s just you and him in the mirrored oasis of the lift. You go in first and stand with your back against the wall.

“What number?”

“The P at the top, I have to scan my card,” you lift your key out of your pocket and hand it to him.

“Of course. You got the suite.”

“I did, wanted to treat myself on my return home.”

“Mm,” Joel scans the card and tucks it in the back pocket of his jeans. The doors close and your stomach anxiously drops as the lift speeds upward.

The vision of Joel surrounds you, his reflection repeated in every panel, you could stay right in this small room forever, seeing every angle of his handsome face. Aquiline nose, creased eyebrows, dimple tucked between a dark mustache and beard, plush lips, deep brown eyes, wavy hair.

“You’re staring.” You’re shocked out of your concentration by Joel’s whisper. “This whole elevator’s mirrors, I can see you as much as you see me.”

A blush creeps across your face.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Joel turns around and steps towards you, standing in front of you. “You look beautiful.” His hand rests against your cheek, his head angles down, his lips resting right in front of yours. “It’s hard to look away from you.”

You close the gap between the two of you, your lips meeting his. It’s a soft kiss, both of your tongues gently licking into each other’s mouths. You’re both savoring the first taste of each other in years, it feels like he also would think about your last kiss as much as you did. Joel pulls away first, turning his head to look in the mirror, you follow his gaze. His hand on your cheek, your hand resting on his bicep, far too big for you to be able to wrap your hand around it. This reality you’re in right now feels like something out of one of your wildest dreams. The alarm goes off, the elevator dinging your arrival to your floor. Joel turns away and you follow behind him as he unlocks your room door.

“Nice room, pretty big for just you, don’t you think?”

“It is. Maybe I figured I’d be sharing it with someone else. Maybe someone older who needed more space to get around on account of his old knees and hurt shoulder.”

“That mouth is going to get you in trouble one day, sweetheart.”

“I welcome it,” you look up at him as you bend over to untie your shoes.

“Where’s the bedroom?” Again, you like Joel’s bluntness. You appreciate how he doesn’t mince words, he knows what he wants and he tells you what he thinks.

You point, he nods, and turns towards it as he begins to unbutton his shirt.

“What? You got somewhere to go?” You shout still standing in the middle of the living room.

“No,” Joel peeks his head out of the doorframe, shirt half open, his hands paused on a button. “I just really want to see you naked on your bed.”

Your knees feel weak, your pussy clenches, your body breaks out in goosebumps. You love his mouth and the way he always sounds like an asshole, even if he’s telling you he wants to see you naked.

You hurry to the bedroom, taking your shirt off and tossing it behind you.

Joel stands with his shirt unbuttoned next to the bedside table, the only light source of the room is the lamp he’s turned on next to him. His skin might be your favorite color, sun bronzed with a patina of dark freckles across his chest and neck. His body standing in front of the dark wood paneled wall glowing in the aureate glow of the lamp takes your breath away. Maybe you should come home more often.

“Take your pants off,” Joel turns to you, his eyes lighting when he sees you without your shirt.

He sheds his shirt before unbuckling his belt and removing his jeans. Your own clothing removal pauses as you stare at the trail from his belly to the black boxer briefs bulging with his erection. This man could never survive without spandex, his thick thighs strain the tight fabric. “Like I said, take your pants off darlin’,” he chuckles. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him chuckle.

“Oh, sorry, yes,” stammers out as you remove your jeans.

You can’t help but not look away from him. You’ll never get over just how handsome and large he is. Other men with his features on their bodies would look ridiculous but Joel is perfectly put together. You can’t get over the fact that he wants you as much as you want him.

“How’d you know navy blue was my favorite color?” Joel asks as he stares at your panties. You wonder if he can see how soaked they are.

“Didn’t. Lucky you.” You’re not sure who’s luckier at this point, maybe you’re both ready to share each other’s luck.

“Very. Get on the bed for me.”

You lay down on the soft sheets, the bed and cover are so plush you sink into it. Your hands by your sides pet the silky sheet and your legs rub against the fabric, it feels so divine and smooth.

“God, you look good like that,” Joel reaches down to palm himself through his briefs. “Might be the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” Your body lights on fire at his praise, your pulse quickening, your almost naked body feeling overheated. “Spread your legs for me.”

You follow his instruction, bending your knees and spreading. Joel climbs on the bed to kneel in between, his palms rest atop of your knees, you can feel the calluses on his hands from years of gloves and bats on your smooth skin.

He runs his hands down your legs before stopping right at the edge of your panties. You moan as he takes a hand and runs it back and forth along your drenched panties. “This all for me?” His cocky smile making his dimple even more apparent.

“Yes, fuck… yes,” you struggle out. You’re so turned on right now, aching all over. Joel’s barely even touched you and you feel like he’s already devastated your whole body. You’ve never felt this way with anybody else before.

“Want to see all of you, take your bra off ’n I’ll take these off,” Joel says as he cups your cloth covered pussy.

You lean up to unsnap your bra, quickly getting naked as Joel takes off your panties. He sits back on his heels, his eyes mapping your body. “Jesus baby, you’re so fucking pretty ’n soft looking.”

His voice, his accent, his praise, it causes a whimper out of you.

“I know baby,” Joel leans down, his hands grab your ass cheeks and pulls your whole body towards him, easily lifting your ass up. Your pussy rests now right in front of his face, you can feel the heat of his breath against your sensitive folds. He’s supporting your whole lower half in his hands until you lift your legs to rest atop his wide shoulders. He licks a long stripe up from your opening to your clit and back again.

“Taste so fucking good, so fucking sweet, knew you’d be this good. Can’t believe I didn’t taste you before.” Joel’s words of devotion are spoken straight to your cunt.

He devours your pussy like it’s never been ate before, fucking into you with his tongue, sucking on your clit, rubbing the bristle of his thin beard against your sensitive folds. Your thighs and legs beginning to shake against Joel as your whole body burns with pleasure. His hands are gripping your ass so tight, his strength and support the only reason why your whole body hasn’t collapsed as your orgasm quickly ripples through you.

Joel moans against you as you spill into him. He doesn’t come up for air as your hips writhe against him. He flicks his tongue against your pulsing clit, a scream escaping your mouth as he begins to press his tongue down on your too sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Holy fuck,” you struggle out. “Fuck. Joel, Joel. Fuck.”

“Mm,” Joel lifts his head up out of in between your legs, your wet glistening on the lower half of his face, his eyes resting under his furrowed brows staring right at you. You unwrap your legs from around his head as Joel gently helps your legs drop to the bed.

Joel rubs your legs and thighs as he stares down at you longingly. His actions are so sweet, actions you never thought you’d see. You don’t think a lot of people get to see this side of him, his features relaxed, mouth slacked open a bit, eyes softened, this isn’t competitive Joel, this is bedroom Joel.

“Let me fuck you baby, don’t think I’m going to last long, wanted to prove to you I can fuck you all night but I’ve waited a long time for this.”

Your core clenches at his words, you wanted to challenge him tonight too, but you can’t fathom the idea of waiting any longer for Joel’s cock inside you. He gets up off the bed, removing his briefs, his cock springing free. Fuck, he’s big and beautiful, the perfect size and shape to match his broad and athletic body.

Joel climbs back on the bed, his body resting in between your spread legs again, this time he leans forward, putting his weight on his two arms as he looms above you. You feel his cock resting against your wet cunt.

“You got a condom or should I have grabbed mine from my wallet?”

“No— can I ask you something?”

“Now?” Joel huffs. "I guess."

“Yes, yeah,” you gather your nerves before you confess. “I want to feel you, all of you. I have an IUD and I always use protection with… others, I just, I want to feel your cum inside of me.”

Joel's jaw drops at the shock of your blunt words. “Fuck, yes. Of course. Jesus Christ.” His dick twitches against you as he answers. “I’m tested and clean.”

“I’m clean too.”

“Fuck baby, I’m so glad you asked.” Joel plants a kiss to the top of your head as he pushes himself into you.

“Holy fuck,” you rasp out at the feel of Joel’s cock stretching you. He’s slow to enter, mindful of how tight your cunt is squeezing around him. It stings so good, you’ve never been this stretched before.

You shut your eyes and focus on taking his length, anchoring yourself in this moment.

“I can feel you clutching me, fuck you feel so good,” you open your eyes at Joel’s words. The glimmer of Joel’s gold chain catches your eye as he moves inside you. You’re mesmerized by how it moves between the two of you, the pendant swinging back and forth like a metronome of Joel’s cock entering and exiting you. “Look at me baby.”

You move your gaze from Joel’s necklace to his eyes, all big and brown and blown out with lust. He begins to increase his pace, your whole core beginning to build another orgasm. Joel cranes his neck down to kiss you, the way his mouth languidly moves against your mouth contrasts the brutal speed of the way he’s now fucking you. You move your hands up to cradle his head, gripping his messy curled hair, left longer during the offseason.

Years and years of pining over Joel culminating in this one night, a surprise encounter at the bar turning into the shared moans and groans you and Joel trade back and forth as your bodies move together.

He’s simply too beautiful, your eyes watching his heavy eyes disappear behind the crinkles on the side of them as he half smiles at you. Like he also can’t believe the two of you are doing this.

You move your hips to meet his thrusts, the softness of the bed cradling you as Joel fucks you harder.

“M’close baby,” respires out against your mouth. Your cunt tightening even more around him as you both begin to reach the apex of your orgasms. “You gonna cum with me?”

You can only nod and blink hoping that your whimpers and moans let him know you’re right there with him.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty and tight, can’t believe how fast you’re gonna make me cum. Fuck baby, just talking about it— gonna fucking cum.”

You feel Joel’s cock throb as his spend fills you, your orgasm following, pumping Joel’s cock as you pulse around him.

He drops down to rest on his forearms, his body landing on top of you. You welcome the feeling of his burning hot body smothering yours. He kisses you as he languidly still fucks into your cunt with his softening cock. Your pussy drips a mixture of your intermingled cum out as Joel pulls out and lays next to you on his back.

You turn and rest your head against his chest, his breaths slow and relaxed. Your hands run up his chest, stopping at the gold chain around his neck.

“Never took you for a necklace man, why do you wear it?”

“My daughter got it for me, when I won that playoff game.”

“Like THAT playoff game you hit the walk-off?” Your question implying it’s the same game you celebrated together in the back of the club.

“Yeah, that one,” Joel wraps his hand around yours. “Sometimes I still think of you and I that night when I see it. Thank you for tonight. You made a bad day into the best night.”

A/N: I adore these two. This stands as a one shot right now, since I'm currently working on my multi-chapter story Elks, but I might revisit them later. Go sports!

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller/reader #pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #tlou au #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller au #baseball fan fic #baseball au #basebal #batter up #baseball

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noxinara · 2 months

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Obey Me! Brothers and what kind of games I think they'd play

this is a very biased list (and long post) based off of games that I've played before :) (jk its really not biased, just games I think they would play!) I made this because I couldn't sleep last night and had brain worms-- Will probably make one for the dateables sometime soon, but this list is just the brothers!

Lucifer

Traditional Board Games.

There have been MANY times where he's been playing various board games with you, Diavolo, and Simeon.

Gets VERY competitive over games like Sorry!, Monopoly, Trouble.... Candy Land???

Will only let Diavolo win.

Shows no mercy to anyone else, including you. Sorry, love.

Card Games.

Particularly amazing at Poker. He would not let Mammon know this... until you guys have an in-house Poker night and he literally takes all??? Has the best poker face you've ever seen.

Won't even let you guys beat him at Uno or Go Fish. Boooooooo.

Puzzle Games.

I could see Luci being very good at Tetris for some reason?

One time Levi challenged him to the game to try and get out of going to RAD one day...

Let's just say he had to go to RAD that day and also had to stay over on cleaning duty. Courtesy of getting absolutely DESTROYED.

Controversial Pick: Rhythm Games.

I could 100000% see Luci tearing up some OSU! But only when all of the brothers are asleep and he's completed most of his work.

They help him unwind.

...Was that rhythmic tapping you heard when walking by his office late one night..? Interesting.

You saw him wearing Levi's VR headset playing Beat Saber one day.

No, you will NOT bring it up and you will NOT let him know of that video you took.

Oh. You posted it on Fab Snap?

Good luck. You're gonna need it.

Mammon

Gambling Games/Apps.

Where I live you can just gamble from home because it's legal to have and play gambling apps?

He would have SO many on his D.D.D. They're taking up so much of his storage space.

Plays them a lot when you're around because he thinks that you're his good luck charm.

He also goes on a lot of Horse Racing and Sports Betting sites...

It got so bad that Lucifer had to figure out how to IP block him from these. it doesn't stop him--

Gacha Games.

Has absolutely insane luck for some reason??? Only on gacha games, tho.

Has definitely played Genshin Impact and Honkai Starrail because of Levi.

He got those 5 star and Ultra Rare pulls he wanted in his first 1-10 pulls? But you? It took you over 100 pulls to get what you wanted. WTF?????

You swear he must be cheating the system somehow. There is NO WAY.

Racing Games.

Particularly the ones that you can have a full racing setup for.

He's splurged thousands of Grimm on this.

Gran Turismo? Forza? F1? iRacing? He has them all.

He is VERY picky about who he lets touch his decked out setup... He'll let you use it any time you want, though. :) You're his treasure, ofc

Controversial Pick: Old School MMOs

Definitely played Old School RuneScape or Black Desert Online or Classic WoW and created gold farming empires.

Doesn't even do end game content, he's just a guild leader making bank off the work of his members.

He probably hosts fun events though.

Would definitely be the kind of guy that makes up scavenger hunts/fashion shows/trivia nights/etc. and gives out sick prizes...

Might also rig these to make sure you or his officers win the best prizes. How sweet.

Leviathan

He is literally THE gamer.

There probably isn't a single genre of game he hasn't played.

His favorite games are definitely MMORPGs and Visual Novels/Dating Sims/Bishojos/Gal games.

Could see him as a raid lead in all of the biggest MMOs like WoW, FFXIV and GW2.

He also 100% visits the degenerate RP server places like Moon Guard's Goldshire and Balmung's Quicksand.

He's definitely not a BLUSHING MESS and rushing to close his game if you catch him in one of these places!!! He would never go there!!! Oh... you want to join him? DEFINITELY NOT.

He would get too jealous of anyone daring to look at you to even let you breath in the vicinity of these degen realms.

He's also done plenty of MMO Ironman challenges and was one of the first people to complete Classic Hardcore WoW entirely solo. Didn't even group for dungeons. What a MAN.

Bishojo/Gal games are his guilty pleasure, how could they not be?

He gets all the waifus with none of the jealousy, right???

What do you mean he picks the same one every time? He can't just cheat on them MC!!

Loves JRPGs and Soulslike games.

Has definitely beaten Elden Ring more times than he can count. Knows literally all of the ins, outs, and secrets and is eagerly anticipating the DLC.

Has probably played every single Final Fantasy game and beaten them all. Would very much have a soft spot for FF4, FF7, and FF9.

Could definitely see him playing MOBAs and 4x strategy/Grand strategy games.

He's not the Grand Admiral of Hell's Navy for nothin'. He knows strategy games like the back of his hand.

The only brother that ever rivals him in strategic knowledge is Satan. (and Lucifer, but we're talking about GAMES here.)

He spends countless hours on League of Legends.

He mains JG/Mid and gets very toxic.

Has favorite characters, but honestly just plays whatever is in meta.

Owns every skin for Ahri, Lux, Katarina, Evelynn, and Akali.

He's definitely in Challengers.

Would 100% make a Smurf account if you wanted to play and would duo bot with you.

He'd play ADC and do anything to protect you, his loving support.

Would not be toxic in your games (unless you are too).

Faker who???

Controversial pick: Casual Mobile Games

Played Flappy Bird all the time when it was popular, still has a cracked copy on his D.D.D... I don't think anyone is beating his high score.

He's got a ridiculous amount of hours on Candy Crush, Angry Birds, and Fruit Ninja.

Would throw his D.D.D into his fish tank and have Henry 2.0 guard it before he'd ever let you catch him on one of these 'normie' games...

But... he secretly likes them so much.

Satan

Hear me out, Satan would be a SUCKER for CYOA (Choose-your-own-adventure)/IF (Interactive Fiction) text games.

Would have Choice of Games, Hosted Games, and Heart's Choice hidden on his D.D.D.

He LOVES immersing himself in story games and creating various MCs.

Oh, look! An RO that reminds him of you? Don't mind him self-inserting.

Probably has character sheets made for his favorite MCs.

Will play through his favorite stories many, many times.

It all started with Choice of the Deathless and now he owns every game on each platform? (I'm jealous)

Also goes on Dashing Don... What do you MEAN author hasn't finished this story yet? AAAA-

Detective/Mystery/Escape Rooms Games.

I don't think any explanation is needed here. It's just who he is.

Would definitely get all of his brothers (minus Lucifer) together to do a virtual escape room... Unfortunately, it became so chaotic they never finished it. Oh well.

Once played Phasmophobia with Levi, Beel, and Belphie. Was very proud of himself for figuring out the ghost... Definitely did not sacrifice his brothers for the info.

Life Sims.

Specifically ones that let you own or are centered around cats.

Has played every single Sims game and bought their cat and dogs expansions.

Definitely did NOT recreate you and himself with 6 cute cats!!!

He did NOT get the mod that extends household size so that you two could own 97 cats. He wouldn't do that, no way!!!

...Was there actually a baby in the household, too..? Why did it have his hair and your eyes...? SATAN?!?!

you know the Catz DS game? He owned every single version and will NOT let you touch them... Okay. Maybe he gave into letting you touch them, but ONLY when he's supervising!

Very much enjoys RTS Games.

He's scarily good at games like StarCraft Brood Wars/2, the Age of Empires franchise, or Rise of Nations.

He's also gotten into 4x games like Stellaris and Civ. Thanks, Levi.

Don't try and challenge him, he can beat the hardest bots and WIN... THE BOTS LITERALLY CHEAT.

HOW DOES HE DO IT?

Controversial Pick: Fighting Games

Specifically games like Guilty Gear, Street Fighter, Tekken, BlazBlue, etc. Courtesy of Levi again. Thanks, Levi.

It helps him temper his wrath.

He'll sometimes play Mortal Kombat just for the finishers?? Why is he this way?

He could spend hours learning all the combos and tech of his favorite characters.

Has created himself some tech books and would only show them to you, esp. if you showed interest in learning the games with him!

I could see him and Levi settling disputes by doing best 3 out of 5 1v1s against each other.

Could see him maining Giovanna or Leo from GGST? Tends to prefer rushdown characters. (this one is completely biased, i named my cat after Giovanna from GG--)

Asmodeus

Dress-up/Fashion/Stylist Games.

SuitU, Love Nikki, Covet Fashion - you name it.

He has all of them on his D.D.D and will shell out major Grimm to get any outfit he likes.

Might try to make the outfits he gets in these games for himself and you, because you're the perfect model!

Has a lot of fun with it and might try and talk you into playing with him.

Will definitely post amazing outfits he makes in-game on Devilgram. Will also post countless photos and videos of you two modeling those outfits he brings to life.

...NSFW/Eroge Games.

Not gonna go into detail on these ones because you already know what I mean.

Enjoys playing those games that haunt the front pages of my Steam.

Would proudly play them in front of you to laugh at how ridiculous they are sometimes (as long as you're 18+)

Like Satan, I could see him enjoying Life Sims...

Unlike Satan, it's not because he wants animals.

Plays games like the Sims, Stardew Valley, and Sun Haven.

Self-inserts himself and will romance EVERYONE.

Has the mods where you can marry every single villager and the bed mod that makes your bed MASSIVE so all your husbands and wives can sleep with you.

Made a Sims save with just himself romping around town... No sim is safe from Asmo.

Also has a Sims save with you and him that he openly enjoys more. It has both of you enjoying that Sims Nightlife as celebrities and living in a MASSIVE mansion he custom decorated.

Will also play any Visual Novel/Dating Game that is recommended to him by Levi.

Bonus points if it never shows the MC so he can self-insert himself.

Controversial pick (in this case, not really): VR Games

Specifically things like VRChat or Chillout VR.

Would be extraordinarily popular and have custom avatars of HIMSELF made with so many toggles that it'll make your head spin.

He would always be hanging out in night club or bar worlds.

Occasionally Mammon joins him.

Sometimes he also invites you to join him~! (Would not like it if people started hanging all over you, tho, and would probably bring you to a hot home world with just you and him if that happened...)

Beelzebub

Sports games.

No doubts about this one.

Could definitely see him playing FIFA or Madden.

Levi thinks these are SUPER normie games and is offended to have them in the house.

Beel doesn't care.

Ooo, they made a game of Fangol?!?! He becomes an expert so fast, you have no idea. Would 100% teach you how to play with him.

Loves Cooking Games or Food-themed Games...

He just can't play them for long, however.

One time you got him to play Cooking Mama with you, Luke, Simeon, and Solomon but you had to stop because he got so hungry that he was trying to eat the television????

Would have to bring in MANY snacks and vow to make dishes from the games if you wanted to play these with him around... Which is a shame because he genuinely enjoys them.

I could see him loving Multiplayer Party/Minigame Games like Mario Party or WarioWare.

You mean he gets to play silly mini games with all of his favorite people?

He doesn't care if he wins, he just loves having you guys around.

Almost always comes in last place when he's playing with you, Belphie, and Levi but that's okay. The faces you guys make when you get your stars are worth it.

Controversial pick (and I mean this one is VERY controversial): FPS games

Now, I know what you're thinking. Beel is a gentle giant and wouldn't play these types of games...

But! I could see him forming 5 stacks with you and his brothers in games like CS2 and Valorant and being scarily good because of his amazing hand-eye coordination and reaction times?

Like he and Levi could easily carry you guys to high Asc/Low Immortal lobbies.

He would just play fill when everyone's around, but his mains would be Kay-O and Breach.

He would always be the initiator in Counter-Strike, following Levi's IGL calls perfectly.

He would also probably love playing games like Squad or Modern Warfare or Battlefield with all of his brothers, you + the dateables.

Belphie

Our resident Horror Game lover.

They give him ideas on how to prank his brothers dreams.

Once made Mammon go through Outlast in his dreams (nightmares??).

You better run, little pig.

But he genuinely enjoys them... When he can stay awake through them.

Hey, you, why don't you just play for him?

Loved playing through games like Amnesia... Unfortunately for you, his love for puzzle psychological horror probably contributed to how he acted in Act 16 OM--

Loves Psychological Dramas and those Interactive Media Games.

You know. The ones where you're combing through footage or watching videos and making choices to find out the hidden/deeper/darker meanings?

He LOVES those.

Usually has you or his brothers playing for him. It's most likely Satan.

You all get equally invested.

Idle Games.

He can run these while he's asleep.

There's nothing more to be said.

These are the simplest type of games there are....

He's probably got a cookie empire.

Has a soft spot for Kart Racing Games.

Will regularly be in the room when you, Levi, Beel or Mammon are playing.

He's honestly pretty good at them??

When he's not falling asleep behind the wheel that is.

Controversial pick: Auto Battlers

These are games like TFT, Hearthstone Battlegrounds, and DOTA's Auto Chess.

He naps in between rounds and wakes up in 20s increments to prepare for his turn... Why does he have the timing down to a tee???

You're sure you've even seen him pick perfectly in his sleep??? How does he do it?????

Regularly comes in the Top 4, usually first or second.

What do you mean he's a Challenger TFT player??? Wtf how???

Will not coach you if you ask, but you're free to watch!

Will definitely cuddle with you the whole time he's playing these.

All Brothers, with a bonus YOU!

I could honestly see them ALL enjoying CRPGs as a group.

They always get the mods that let you increase your party size.

Went through Baldur's Gate 3 with you on your recommendation.

They all fought over who would get to play Astarion and Mammon won?!?!

Satan got Gale

Beel got Karlach

Levi was Laz'ael

Lucifer was Wyll

Belphie got Shadowheart

And Asmo made a Dark Urge Bard that looked exactly like himself????

He literally doesn't even make any Dark Urge decisions.

He doesn't want blood staining his clothes. 😔

You got to choose whatever you wanted though!

You took the Dark Urge from Asmo and he just played a normal, flirty bard with impeccable fashion sense.

This playthrough took MONTHS and MONTHS... but you all had a blast!

Literally.

You cannot count the number of times Satan 'accidentally' hit you with fire balls. (He claims he was aiming for Lucifer.)

Lucifer somehow ended up getting you all the luckiest ending? How did he roll 3 nat 20s?????

You're on to play Divinity: Original Sin II next...

Satan has already claimed Fane.

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jeongin-lvr · 10 months

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ᵎ　🍶　⊹ perverted, yang jeongin

ᝰ✧ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀！ 𝗌𝗎𝖻𝖻𝗒！𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖽！𝗃𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇， 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝖽𝗈𝗆！𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋，𝗆𝖺𝗅𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖻𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇， 𝗇𝗈𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗎𝗉𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗋𝗍 𝗉𝗁𝗈𝗍𝗈𝗌， 𝖽𝖾𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀， 𝗋𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀， 𝖾𝖽𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀， 𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗌𝗆 𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗂𝖺𝗅， 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍，𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗍𝖾𝖽．

𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾：𝗂 𝗐𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝟤 𝖺𝗆 𝗉𝗅𝗌 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗍𝗌

[ 4281 words ] ✩ [ do not repost ] ✩ [ 𝗆．𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ]

𝗝𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗜𝗡 took those pictures with shame in his eyes. He often wondered why he was such a disgusting person, yet at the same time, he couldn't stop himself from uplifting your skirt and taking a swift peek at your deliciously soft flesh. He'd slip his phone under your thighs as well while you laid or even stood beside him, his mouth laying open as he wondered what would happen if he was caught. And later that night he'd look back at them with excitement, excitement that was forecasted with shame; yet, he'd look through every single one.

Over and over and over again.

He loved the little crease where your ass met your deliciously curvy thighs. He loved the look of your panties clinging to your ample cunt, sometimes he'd see a wet mark between your enticing lips and he'd wonder what you were thinking about that made you that way.

God forbid he ask however, it would be embarrassing to even say. So he preferred to just ogle at the perverted photos he took of you. He kept them safe as if it were pure gold.

So there he was swiping through the photos, some he'd seen a thousand times before. Some from MONTHS ago. Others from this morning. Jeongin was thankful you wore so many skirts; if you didn't he'd be left empty handed without these blessed pictures.

One in particular caught his eye, one of your denim skirt lifted up to expose the white and pink underwear you wore that day. It clung to your curves, dipped at your hips and tight against your skin.

In the photo you were asleep, laying sideways on the mattress of his own bed with your arms curled around your chest, his own shirt adorning your skin.

The combination of your tight little underwear and his baggy shirt draped over your body made him mumble desperately to himself, a quick curse as he felt heat rise in both his cock and face. Jeongin knew this feeling and though the guilt was strong, the horniness was stronger.

Jeongin glanced at his doorway, seeing it was closed, the light in the hallway outside was out, which he hoped meant everyone was asleep already. His members were, in fact asleep, but he didn't know about you.

The girl who haunted his fantasies, one by one, taking over the little world in his mind. God, he loved when you starred in his pornographic thoughts. It was like a movie every time.

Jeongin rubbed himself slowly through his sweatpants, eyeing the photo of your beautifully crafted butt, the soft pink lace of your underwear being something he never knew he needed to see you in. It must've been new, he hoped to get another picture next time. Maybe a closer look.

He whined to himself, squinting his eyes as he felt himself grow harder, his hand instinctively reaching into his pants to fish for his cock.

Already rock fucking solid.

The boy swiped more, eyeing the numerous, scandalous photos on his phone with lidded eyes as his own hand jerked himself off. The delightfully warm lube of his own cock making the sensation all the better.

He imagined it wasn't his pathetic hand, but instead your warm, velvety walls around him.

He moaned, shushing himself as he continued. Photo after photo only adding to the pleasure of his own relentless jerks.

I strutted down the hallway toward my room, the last door beside Jeongin's. It was deadly quiet apart from my feet against the cold flooring of the hallway, thanks to the silent night. I yawned to myself, scratching my bare thighs as I crept down to my room.

It was when I reached for the handle of my doorway that I heard a tiny whimper, something so fucking delicious I instantly quirked up. My head turned around, arms and legs frozen as I listened closer.

Another whimper, this time a tiny bit louder, I shifted at the repeated sound. My eyes lingered up and down the hall, pausing at every room while wonder threaded my mind.

Who is that?

Another whimper- more like a silent cry this time -that made my cunt throb. I raised a hand to my face, mouth falling wide as my eyes trailed to the final door before mine; Jeongin's door. His door was lit aglow from beneath the cracked underside, signaling someone was awake in there. And it was definitely the sweet boy I've known forever.

My curiosity pulled my body toward the door, while I knew it was weird and gross and made me seem almost disgusting, I pressed my ear against the soft wood. And I heard another groan, whinier than the others, almost like he was saying a name, but I couldn't figure out whose name it was. More intrigue filled my head, my eyes widening as I softened my breathing to hear more. There was silence, before I finally heard his gorgeous moan.

Yeah, it's a name. My name. I froze again, my palms flat against the door as I contemplated what was happening. Nothing was registering, nothing was clicking. My brain felt dizzy yet my morbid and terrible curiosity kept me upright.

"Y/n... ah, fuck..." his muffled whimpering that made my cunt throb once more, my eyes fluttering shut as I pictured the boy, wondering what he would've looked like right now as he murmured my name alongside his hot, breathy moans of bliss.

My hand rested on the door handle, wondering what he would do if I just turned it and waltzed in like some kind of confident bastard. Would he freak out? Would he... continue? Invite me to join him? My thoughts felt so sinful, so terribly gross. But they wouldn't stop forming.

"I can't- ah, g'cum-" Jeongin whimpered, his voice clear yet diluted by the doorway between us. I hummed to myself, licking my lips.

Then there was a loud, groan paired with soulful whimpers. The wet noise of his hand meeting the flesh of his body began to slow until there was no sound at all. Soon it was quiet. Not even a shuffle from behind the door.

Then suddenly the door pulled open, making me stumble forward a bit but I caught myself with my foot, dumbly standing. Jeongin stood in shock, phone in hand and the screen displaying something odd. My eyes flashed from his face to curious picture staring back at me. Jeongin looked purely terrified, his forehead sheen with sweat and his lips parted and pink per usual. Except now they were turned downward in surprise, eyes wide in fear.

But I didn't notice any of that. My eyes were directly on the familiar looking pair of panties on his screen. Pink and white lace... that's me.

"Y/n- what are- ah, don't look at that-" Jeongin continued to sputter out nonsense, but my hands were quick to snatch up his phone, fingers instantly swiping left and right at the photos. I stepped into his room, pushing him as I eyed the screen in horror.

I paced for a bit, seeing my ass and panties more and more explicitly with every swipe I made to his phone screen.

Jeongin blubbered and objected, trying to snatch his phone but failing miserably. Soon he gave up and sulked down on his bed, shamefully hiding his face in his perfectly made hands. I paused at one picture, finally looking at the boy with something amiss on my face.

For some reason, the idea of him being so fucking pathetic to take these pictures, to be touching himself to it- that made my cunt throb again. I found my eyes hungrily gazing at the sinful boy just a few feet away, obviously ashamed of himself, as he should be. That shameful expression on his pretty face was for some odd reason turning me on immensely.

I gripped his phone right, walking slowly over to him with a hand out, my fingers met the skin of his hands as I pried them off his face, studying his shameful looks.

"Did you take these?" I asked in a sweet tone, hoping to convey my desires and message across. Though, I'm sure my wild, almost narrowed eyes caught him off guard, "Did you fucking take these?"

Jeongin looked like his eyes were glazing with salty tears, definitely regretting his decisions now. I had to chuckle at his grossly pathetic look. I knew he was desperate, desperate for anything like this. I found it cute how ashamed he was. The sight was delectable.

"Please... pretty, I'm sorry," He whined as my hand held his chin firmly, tilting his head up at me while I simply stared down at him with what I hoped was an unimpressed, almost disgusted face, "I... I couldn't help it- Please don't be mad. I'll delete-"

"Don't." I stated harshly, my tone firm and commanding. He paused his sputtering, looking at me daringly with stupidity, eyes watching my face with that same curious gloss on them.

"Don't delete them," I chuckled, looking at them again whilst my hand held his jaw tightly, "Look how many there are... you're a fucking pervert aren't you?" I almost cooed, endearingly leaning in on his face as my eyes flashed between the phone in my hand to his eyes. His pathetically helpless eyes.

"Did you enjoy these, hm?" I kept my eyes firm and lidded as I met his desperate ones. His eyes remained glossy and pleading, lips quivering with confusion. But when I glanced down at his crotch, I could see the evident boner growing within the depths of his pants.

"Well, did you?" I jerked his chin again, demanding a response.

He nodded, "Yes."

"How pathetic," I dryly spoke, opening more pictures on his phone. Some of my panties and ass, others of just me. If Jeongin wasn't such a pretty boy I swear I would've been calling the police by now. But for some reason his odd obsessive and quite frankly weird habits made me horny as fuck.

"Please, Y/n, I'm sorry, please please please don't be mad-" Jeongin whined out loudly, cheeks red and sweat forming on his forehead from the raging nervousness he felt.

"Can you shut the fuck up?" I sneered, moving my fingers from his chin to his hair, tugging it harshly as I stared down at him lustfully.

"Do you think good boys take photos like this??" I asked, watching his eyes burn with more tears. I checked again and confirmed his dick was rock solid. I saw the outline in his grey sweats, "I don't fucking think so. Are you that pathetic that you have to take photos up my skirt to get off? Hm?"

Jeongin shook his head, a tear falling down his porcelain stained cheek, eyes faltering to my lips for a split second as I unknowingly got closer to his face, sneering but silently enjoying his expressions.

"Speak, baby." I demanded. His eyes widened at the nickname and I even found myself wondering where that came from. But when he looked at me with such pleading, submissive eyes I felt my cunt throb and realized why it rolled off my tongue so easily.

"N-no..."

"No? You were touching yourself weren't you? To these pictures?" I spat in his face, edging him on with my words.

"Mhm," His mouth spoke it in more of a moan as I pulled at his sweaty hair, eyes on his lips.

"Bad boy," I hummed crudely in his face, "How are we gonna fix this, huh?"

"I dunno," Jeongin groaned, lips brushed against mine.

I didn't speak as I let go of his hair, tossing his phone to the side as I stood straight up. He watched pathetically, eyeing me as I slithered out of my shorts, then my baggy top, leaving me in nothing but my pink and white lace panties. The very ones from the picture.

He watched with wide eyes, complete wonder and awe in his face as I walked back over to him. I straddled his lap, taking his hair between my fingers again as I jerked his face up to meet mine.

"You're gonna be a good boy and fucking take it, aren't you?" I asked softly, lips barely a millimeter apart.

I felt his erection rub against my soaked cunt, the cloth between us made the friction all the better.

"Y-yes," Jeongin groaned at the feeling, eyes fluttering from the desirable feeling.

I adjusted myself, taking my panties off one leg at a time, letting him ogle at the white and pink hues that were drenched in my natural lubricant. He watched carefully, sweat somehow still gleaming on his forehead despite nothing happening yet.

"Say ah," I ordered, switching into a softer voice. He widened his jaw and allowed me to stuff the fabric between his lips, his muffled groans filling the room as I continued to playfully rub my cunt on his hard dick.

"Since you like my underwear so much you can eat it," I giggled, clapping my hands against his shoulders as I began to grind on him harder, his eyes squeezing and eyebrows twisting with insurmountable pleasure.

"Let's see... does Innie want to be in me?" I asked, grinding becoming slower as I spoke.

He nodded ferociously, begging me with the low grunts and somber eyes he gave me. Pleading with me without saying a word.

"You want to be in me, huh, baby?" I asked, clit rubbing against his sweats and edging me on just right. I watched his lashes flutter. His dark eyes meet mine with desperate passion, "After all the naughty things he's done? I'm not sure..."

Muffled pleas left his mouth, some more audible than others. His eyes falling to my cunt, across my nude figure and while I wasn't a mind reader, I knew what was playing in his horny little brain; this was much better than the pictures.

He whined more, hands stifling holding himself up as I held his shoulders tight. My eyes never left the sight of his quivering, pathetic mouth. The way his lower lip trembled with delicious tenacity. I wanted to watch him sob and writhe for a release, this was only the beginning.

He just didn't know it yet.

Whine after delicious, sweet whine, he didn't stop pleading. My cunt was throbbing around nothing, but I held myself upright. Jeongin whimpered, grinding his hips upwards against mine, barely feeling the friction that was driving him wild. A muffled 'please' left his shimmery lips, sweat glossing the skin of his neck and face as he spoke.

"Okay, fine," I pulled the elastic of his pants down, showcasing his proud and excited member to the world. I admired it for a second as I took it between my palms, holding it tightly but refusing to move.

I adjusted my warm body over his cock, feeling the delectable prod at my entrance as I lined it up like two puzzle pieces. Jeongin whimpered through the muffling of my panties in his mouth, nodding ferociously as if to say to sheath myself unto him. He tried and failed to push his hips upward, trying to relentlessly to fill me up. But I smacked his cheeks lightly, string enough to convey my message.

Thought he sat stunned I felt the pathetic, egregious twitch in his cock.

Before I fully sunk down onto him, I bent to his ear, pressing my teeth into his lobe as my fingers played with the soft strands of his hair at the back of his neck.

I parted my lips, a whisper leaving my mouth, "Just so you know, I'm not letting you cum. Not yet at least. Can your pathetic little cock handle that?"

His eyes widened, only to be softened into little brown pools of pleasure as I sheathed my cunt upon him.

He whined as I ground my hips down, my slick wetness coated his lower region and made delicious squelches; proof of my delight for this situation. Soon I was rising my hips and plopping back down at a rhythmic pace, feeling every inch of him glide in and out of my hole as I made it my mission to push him to the edge.

"F...fucking pervert," I whispered harshly in his ear, once again tugging at the dark roots of his hair. My breath was hot as my lips brushed against his neck, kisses short yet wet, "You like this don't you? Being degraded like this? Tell me, Innie, did you want me to catch you being so sinful?"

He lulled his head, a desperate cry left his lips. He shook his head yet his cheeks grew redder the more I spoke.

"N-no," Jeongin placed his hands over his features, blocking his wonderful lustful stares. I didn't like that; I wanted to see all of him. The way his eyebrows scrunched with every slap of our skin, I wanted to see his face contort from the fucking heat of it all.

"No? Really? I don't fucking believe you, Innie."

"You wanted me to catch you didn't you?" I moaned, the sound muffled against his skin.

I pulled his hands away from his face, venom ravaging my words as I spoke, "Do that again and I'll stop." His hands willingly fell, yet the lay partially limp; more delectable skin slapping, and slowly I could feel him writhe beneath me, desperate for release.

His hands gripped the bedsheets, his body leaned back against the wall behind his bed as I did most of the work. Little helpless moans occasionally left his mouth, his groans higher pitched than normal.

"Fuck... ah," I breathlessly moaned, reaching to grab his phone again and swipe at the photos, showing him every single one, "Does my pussy feel as good as you hoped? You nasty pervert... mh, you don't deserve, ngh, to cum."

Jeongin pleaded through wild cries, helpless whimpers to cum, eyes tearing as his hands gripped the sheet again. One hand rose to my waist, gently holding the skin there before I objected.

"Don't touch," I groaned, showing him the photos again, "Bad boys don't deserve to touch me. I'm teaching you a lesson."

"F-fuck me," I made out his moaning cry, the underwear beginning to slip from his jaw.

"Gonna cum... Please, please let me cum!" The underwear slipped from his mouth, falling on his thighs as I rode him endlessly. Drenched in drool and flimsily laying on his softly toned body, sticking to the warm sweat that shone on his skin. I bent my lips to his jaw, finding my lips lazily kissing him, egging him on further with my tired whimpers; just to watch his face scrunch helplessly.

"No, shut the fuck up before I muffle you again," I gritted my teeth, planting my lips on his neck and nibbling repeatedly, over and over, repeating the same spots on his skin in a relentless pattern. I wanted to see the bruises the next morning, I wanted to see him wince each time he'd accidentally touch it. A signal that I taught him some fucking manners.

"Ah, f-feels so good," Jeongin couldn't help anything that left his mouth, especially when you scolded him like that. Or showed him those nasty photos he's taken over the course of almost a year. Or even when you just looked at him like some kind of creep, yet your lust wouldn't let you maintain that look. It was always the best to him. He just loved the way you degraded him. In every way possible. He never knew you of all people would be such a deliciously hot dominant, but he sure as hell wasn't complaining.

"Too bad you're not gonna cum," I chuckled, my cunt clenching around him as I continued to bounce. He groaned at the feeling, eliciting a slew of deep groans and moans as I persisted in the same area.

Jeongin felt his stomach build up that lovely orgasm, he felt his arise. He just had no idea how to stop it. How to abide by your wishes. He truly was pathetic.

"I... you feel so- so fucking good," Jeongin arched his head back, knowing he had no choice but to cum. Then he felt my hips slow, my eyes on his as I smirked deviantly.

"Wha... why'd you slow down?" Jeongin whined, adjusting his body beneath mine to angle his dick upward. He pathetically thrusted up, hitting a sensitive part that I didn't want him to find.

I moaned and pushed him down into his mattress, halting his movements. My palms flat against his pectorals as I hissed in retaliation.

"Cut the shit," I scolded, enjoying his whines, "I said you're not coming. I mean it."

"Please, need you," Jeongin felt tears fill his eyes as your cunt clenched around him, yet there was no movements to enable that.

"Bad boys don't get rewarded," I scowled at the male, hands lacing in his hair while my lips peppered delicate kisses on his Adam's apple, then below his jaw. My hips slowly ground down, his tip delicately brushing against my walls and sensitive bits with every minute grind I made.

"I'll be good, please, wanna cum so bad."

"You'll be good, huh?" I smirked with a cocky sound in my voice, lips dragging to his lips but only kissing beside his parted mouth.

"Mhm, just let me cum, god, please," He begged, desperation and clear want in his voice.

I contemplated it for a second, "Eh, I was getting tired anyway. If you can make me cum I'll let you fill me up, how about that?" I breathed down on his face, lips pulling his own apart so my tongue could roam his mouth.

"Fuck, thank you," Jeongin groaned, deeply. His hands touched my hips, holding me as his overwhelmed face contorted again into more pleasurable pain.

"Let's see what your pathetic cock can do," I sat upright on him, watching as he began to thrust upward into me. Admittedly, my body felt so fucking good, especially when he hit that delicate little bundle of nerves in the deepest part of me. His hands found solace on my ass now that I finally let him touch me, his fingers pinching and squeezing at the fat. He would moan, loud and proud, without any of the previous shame he showcased before. I just knew he was eating this up; my feigned nonchalant attitude , my unbothered expression. He liked it.

I groaned, but his whines desperate whimpers were much, much louder. I wouldn't be surprised if another member of the dorms heard his mewling by now.

I felt the coil in my stomach build, slowly I synchronized our movements, grinding each time our hips met with a pornographic skin slap. My eyes fluttered but I forced them wide, stars clouded my vision.

"Ngh, I need to cum," Jeongin stated, pleading with me to release already so he could as well.

I chuckled, lips meeting his neck again and peppering slobbery, moist kisses along his skin.

"Not there yet," I teased into his ear.

He groaned, arching both his back and head back in disbelief. Jeongin's thrusts were deeper, harder and quick enough to the point where I could feel all of him. Every inch, every curve and every little quirk in his cock. I felt it all, and admittedly it felt so fucking divine.

Soon my climax was raging to be released, burning my thighs and insides, scrambling around my body and begging to be let out.

"Baby- fuck, please just cum! Can't hold it anymore!" Jeongin pleaded misty-eyed. His mouth wide, cheeks redder than an apple.

I whimpered, his cock's tip hitting my gspot stupidly fast over and over again. My eyes falling shut as I let my orgasm overtake me. The denial would've been too much to handle.

My cunt pulsated around his cock, sending his body into a whimpering, tasty mess. His sweaty hair clung to his forehead as he allowed his own to overtake as well. My cum leaked down his legs and my own meanwhile his cum shot into me, prolonging my climax by a few minor seconds.

"Fuck, fuck!! So damn good!" Jeongin bellowed between relentless moans, his hips drilling into my hole as he rode out that sweaty, desired high he's been aching for since the start.

Silence swept over us as we both left our blissful state, my head lulled onto his chest, still clothed by his shirt but promising sweat stains visible to my eyes. His lashes fluttered as he blinked, staring flat at the ceiling, post-nut clarity burdening his mind. I chuckled, slipping him out with a painful yet satisfying squelch. The sound made Jeongin snap out of his own mind, meeting my eyes.

"So... I hope that was better than your hand and my nonconsensual ass pics," I joked, enjoying the way his cheeks glowed red, eyes refusing to open anymore as he used his lovely hand to cover his mouth.

"Yes." A short yet definite answer.

"You gonna take any more of those?" I asked, fingers finding the collar of his shirt.

"N-no..."

"Boo, you're no fun," I kissed his neck, "If you do we can have some fun again." I whispered in his ear, already feeling his dick regain that overstimulating warmth, "Oh, someone's excited."

"Fuck...“

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 3 months

Text

Napoleonville [Chapter 8: The New House]

Series Summary: The year is 1988. The town is Napoleonville, Louisiana. You are a small business owner in need of some stress relief. Aemond is a stranger with a taste for domination. But as his secrets are revealed, this casual arrangement becomes something more volatile than either of you could have ever imagined.

Chapter Warnings: Language, references to sexual content (18+ readers only), dom/sub dynamics, smoking, infidelity, kids, parenthood, historical topics like violence and discrimination, Cakes with Christabel, angst?? Who am I kidding. Angst!!!!!!

Word Count: 5.9k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @marvelescvpe @toodlesxcuddles @era127 @at-a-rax-ia @0eessirk8 @arcielee @dd122004dd @humanpurposes @taredhunter @tinykryptonitewerewolf @partnerincrime0 @dr-aegon @persephonerinyes @namelesslosers @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @gemini-mama @daenysx @chattylurker @moonlightfoxx @huramuna @britt-mf @myspotofcraziness @padfooteyes @targaryenbarbie @trifoliumviridi @joliettes @darkenchantress @florent1s @babyblue711 @minttea07 @libroparaiso @bluerskiees @herfantasyworldd @elizarbelll @urmomsgirlfriend1 @fudge13 @strangersunghoon @wickedfrsgrl

Only 2 chapters left!!! 🥰🧁

“I have no idea what he’s thinking,” Christabel tells Alicent, a low furtive murmur around nibbles of a cinnamon French toast cupcake. They are both sitting at the kitchen counter as you scuttle around wiping down burners and handles and knobs, trying not to listen in, unable to help yourself. At the table, Amir is frosting a Lady Baltimore cake and chatting with Criston, who has eaten no less than three miniature cherry pies in the past fifteen minutes. Amir keeps casting you wide-eyed, flummoxed glances. He means: Can you believe these people? No, you can’t.

Alicent sips the glass of sweet tea you poured for her and gazes vaguely around the room. “Oh, you know how Aemond is, dear. He works so hard. He’s so consumed by the Lake Verret project.”

“But shouldn’t he talk to me?” Christabel’s large blue eyes are luminous, persistent.

“Don’t be ridiculous, darling. Of course he talks to you.”

“Sure,” Christabel says, frowning. “He talks to me about the weather and the garden and the koi in the fish pond. He asks if I listen to Dire Straights or AC/DC. Nothing of consequence, nothing revealing. And he never touches me. Alright, fine, there’s a hand on my shoulder or my waist once in a while, for a moment. There are quick, courteous kisses. But that’s all. And he’s so…so…” She struggles to decide on a word. “Formal!”

“Have you tried the cannoli cupcake yet?” Alicent asks, sliding the plate towards Christabel. “It’s just divine. I absolutely adore it.”

“When we’re apart he says he misses me, but he hardly ever calls. He tells me that he loves me, but only if I say it first.”

“He’s marrying you!” Alicent declares as she restlessly twists her assortment of glittering rings, gold and diamonds and emeralds. “What more is there to say, dear?”

“Surely there must be something,” Christabel mumbles. She obediently samples the cannoli cupcake, carving away a tiny sliver with her fork. “Oh, that is wonderful, isn’t it?”

“I think it’s my favorite one yet.”

They have twelve flavors to choose from, some familiar and some new: vanilla bean and triple chocolate of course, the classics, and then also cannoli, cinnamon French toast, carrot, red velvet, Boston cream pie, apple cobbler, peanut butter and grape jelly, Neapolitan, Louisiana crunch, and hummingbird. Christabel surveys the selection and then looks to where you are vigorously scrubbing an already clean stovetop. “Aemond mentioned something about banana bread cupcakes. Do you have one of those we could try?”

And again, you are amazed by how much he remembers: the very first cupcake from the very first night. “Um…I’m not sure, actually. Amir, didn’t we make a batch earlier this week? Are there any still on the table?”

Amir checks the cake plates, lifting glass covers, until he locates a single remaining banana bread cupcake for your customers. He ferries it to the kitchen counter with great ceremony. “Everyone raves about this flavor! And it’s so quintessentially southern. Perfect for a Louisiana wedding.” You give him a miserable, deadened stare and he offers a millisecond smirk of commiseration. What else can we do? Amir means. And you think: Nothing.

Christabel samples the cupcake, an infinitesimal morsel speared on the very tip of her fork. You recall how Aemond tasted like sugar and honey and cinnamon when he kissed you on the night you met, rough, dominating, irresistible, without the aching weight of disappointments or betrayals. If time was a cobweb you could rip and walk through, you’d be back in that May dusk in an instant, you’d live there forever and never leave.

“That’s it.” Christabel grins as she licks cream cheese frosting from her full, pink lips. “This one. I want a banana bread cake.”

“Mmm,” Alicent agrees, taking a bite. “It has so many dimensions! Sweet with just a touch of salt, light and fluffy but with a certain substantial, rustic quality, don’t you think? It’s the cinnamon, perhaps.”

You make a note on your yellow legal pad—a reminder you don’t need—so you can avoid Christabel’s benign, guileless gaze. “Is there a design you’d like for the frosting?”

“Wildflowers.”

Amir emits a startled gasp before he can swallow it back down. You look up at Christabel. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Just like the vanilla bean cake you made for the engagement party.” She draws blossoms in the air with her fingers, whimsical like a fairytale. “There was white icing and then all these gorgeous flowers in a dozen different colors. You could do that for a wedding cake, couldn’t you?”

“Of course.” And then you amend: “Well, Amir can. He’s our Picasso.”

“You’ll need something for the rehearsal dinner too, dear,” Alicent tells Christabel. Then she turns to you, tugging anxiously at one of her auburn ringlets. “You’re the expert, love. What would you recommend to impress upon our guests all the history and mystique of the Deep South?”

Your mind is blank, your thoughts gnarled up with visions of Christabel meeting Aemond at the end of an aisle. Amir sees this and he saves you.

“A Napoleon cake,” he announces with his best salesman enthusiasm, powerful enough to sweep everyone else along with him.

Alicent claps her hands, elated. “Oh, just like the town!”

“It has layers of puff pastry and rich custard cream, very French, very elegant and sophisticated, but also a nod to Napoleonville. And we can add a cherry jam to make it more romantic, if you like.”

“Doesn’t that just sound heavenly, darling?”

“Does Aemond like cherries?” Christabel asks Alicent. You know he does, but you don’t say anything.

“I think so. We’ll ask him tonight to be sure.” Alicent is opening her clutch purse to get the cash to pay you; she is eager to have this errand finished, you believe. “And can you put wildflowers on top of the Napoleon cake as well?”

“You can have the Declaration of Independence written on it if that is your heart’s desire,” Amir says, then steals a glimpse of you. You’re jotting the order down and then tracing over your own letters again and again.

“That’s the color scheme,” Christabel says a bit dreamily, forever woolgathering. “Wildflowers. And I think you suggested it at the engagement party,” she tells you, appreciative. In your recollection, it was less of a suggestion than a confession of what you once dared to hope for. “Everything has to have wildflowers. Even the dress.”

Alicent groans. “Oh, Christabel, not this again.”

“I don’t know why you’re being so resistant, those dresses were spectacular.”

“Whoever heard of a multicolored wedding dress?” Alicent asks you, Amir, Criston. “It’s absurd. The bride always wears pure white, everyone knows that. It’s tradition! It’s dignified!”

“Well now I get to solicit opinions too.” Christabel reaches into her own purse—a quilted shoulder bag, light blue with red roses and a label reading Souleiado stitched inside—and produces several polaroid photographs. She gives them to you; they are all of her posing in different wedding dresses, stylish white gowns freckled with wildflowers like splashes of paint. “All anyone can talk about is what I should wear, what the guests will expect, what they will chatter about when they gossip afterwards,” Christabel tells you. And in her vast, shimmering eyes you can detect no resentment or slyness, only quiet desperation. “But you’re a real person. So be honest with me, because there’s only one thing I really care about. Will my husband think I look ravishing in any of them?”

“These theatrics,” Alicent sighs to herself, lighting a Marlboro cigarette. Again, she is peering aimlessly around the kitchen. Amir fidgets with the dogwood flower in his hair as he watches you wearily. Criston compulsively eats another miniature cherry pie.

You study the polaroid photos. Each one feels like a split lip, a fractured rib, the shredding elephantine pressure of a contraction. You wait to speak until you’re sure your voice won’t break. “They’re all stunning. But this one…” You place one picture on top of the pile. “This dress was made for you. Just look at your face. Glowing like a lightning bug.”

“Thank you,” Christabel says, beaming, immensely grateful, and she takes the photos back. She seems pacified. “You’re married, aren’t you?”

“I was, yes. Briefly. Not very happily, I must admit. But it was worth it to get my daughter.”

She smiles. There’s no uneasiness; she doesn’t shy away from displays of human frailty. “I’d like a few daughters one day. We could all dress up together and style each other’s hair.”

“I wouldn’t count on it. If I tried that, I’d get my hands chewed off.”

Christabel laughs. She wears a casual blue t-shirt, blue gingham capri trousers, and white flat pumps. Her eyeshadow is a sparkling gold, her mascara flaking onto the apples of her cheeks. She is still marveling at you with those aquamarine eyes when Alicent pulls a list out of her clutch and grudgingly crosses off items with a black ballpoint pen.

“So we’ve got a wedding cake, a rehearsal dinner cake, a dress, a venue, flowers, photographers…I still need to call about hair and makeup…and we need to pick out candles…”

“Where are you getting married?” you ask Christabel.

“The most unique, picturesque, atmospheric place in the entire state of Louisiana, I’m sure of it.”

“We took a drive to visit that church you mentioned,” Alicent says to you. “And it was absolutely perfect. None of our guest will have ever seen anything like it. And it’s so historic! Over 150 years old! The Chapel of Saint Honoratus of Amiens.”

Amir squeals, a distressed mewing that he stifles with a feigned cough into his elbow. You stand shellshocked for a few seconds before managing a generic encouragement: “Really! Wow! Amazing! Great!”

Now Christabel is rather melancholy again. She scrutinizes her engagement ring, a large teardrop emerald with a gold band. Her voice is low, like she’s talking to herself. “I just wish…I don’t know. That we had more time together before the wedding, I suppose. Then I think I’d feel like I had more of a handle on things. It’s all been such a whirlwind, such a shock. A good shock, but still. We hardly know each other.”

Alicent prompts her: “You care for Aemond, don’t you, dear?”

“I’m in awe of him,” Christabel replies, a little dazed, a little defenseless. “He’s so clever and gallant. He’s the most inspiring man I’ve ever known. And the scar…it gives him quite a roguish look, doesn’t it? Like a Bond villain. It’s not a detriment in the least.”

“Yes, yes,” Alicent says impatiently, like she’s waiting for the conversation to be over. “Then there’s nothing more to worry about. You care for him, he cares for you, and you’ll have the honeymoon to get better acquainted. Criston, would you go outside and start the Lexus, please?” He dutifully departs.

Honeymoon. Your stomach lurches, the sea in a storm. You can see Aemond’s hands on Christabel’s face, in her hair, skating up her bare thighs. You can hear him moaning her name.

“We’re going to Greece,” Christabel informs you, thinking she’s being polite. “Athens, Mykonos, Santorini, and Corfu. Have you ever been?”

I’ve never been anywhere. But instead you say, forcing a smile: “Not yet.”

When Christabel, Alicent, and Criston have gone, you look to Amir. Your blood has turned to cement: cold, heavy, immobile, trapped. “You realize she’s getting my wedding, right? The one I always wanted. The wildflowers. The candles. The chapel.”

“And she’ll even be taking your favorite dick home at the end of the night.”

You cover your face with both hands and shake your head, trying to clear it, to drive out mirages of someone else’s oasis. This can’t be real. I can’t handle it, I can’t survive it.

Amir pushes his tortoiseshell glasses up the bridge of his nose and says, gently now: “If we’re catering dessert, we’ll have to go to the wedding. The rehearsal dinner too.”

“Why would they want that? How can they not see how insanely awkward and wrong this is?”

He shrugs. “They probably think it’s normal. Wasn’t Camilla at Charles and Diana’s wedding?”

“If one more person tries to talk to me about Camilla Parker Bowles, I’m going to feed myself to the gator.”

“You’ll have to come to terms with it or you’ll have to end it. Those are the only options.”

“Yeah.” And it’s not just about me. It’s Cadi’s life too.

Amir sits down at the kitchen table, crosses one leg over the other, kicks his foot nervously. He rests an elbow on the tabletop and his chin on the knuckles of his left hand. “I hate to give you more bad news.”

You already know what he’s going to say. You’ve been dreading it for months. “You have enough money saved for San Franscisco.”

“I do.”

You exhale, your shoulders collapsing, tapping your fingertips against the counter. The air conditioner whirrs; the cicadas shriek in the trees outside. The house is hushed and still. Cadi is away at horse camp. Each day you receive a postcard in the mail that you assume the employees forced her to write at gunpoint. “When are you leaving?”

“The end of July. I’ll wait until after the wedding, once all the dust has settled. But I can’t wait any longer than that.”

“I want you to be happy,” you say. “I really do. But I’m going to miss you so much. You’ve been my best friend for a decade. You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a partner in life.”

Amir smiles faintly. “Come over here.”

When you sit beside him, he takes your hands in his; and you remember how he visited you in the hospital after Cadi was born, carrying a bouquet of wildflowers he picked himself and a Tupperware container full of crawfish pistolettes. He had been just a casual friend before you found out you were pregnant, one of a group, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t keep him at an arm’s length. Amir was different, and not in a way that you fully understood or accepted yet. But he was the only friend who had no judgment for you when you told him you were pregnant, who cared about how you felt, who wanted to be a part of whatever would happen next. He was the only one who stayed.

“I’ve never had a boyfriend,” Amir tells you. “I’ve never even been on a date, not once. I’ve never been in love. I’ve never had sex that wasn’t a one night stand in a New Orleans club or the back seat of my Ford Escort because those were the only places we had to go. And I’m starting to believe that people like me can’t have more than that. So I have to go someplace where I can have more, where I will have more. I don’t want love to be something that only other people get to experience. I don’t want to be afraid of leaving my house after dark or wake up every day wondering if someone has broken a window out of my car again. I have to go. There’s no future for me here. If I stay in Napoleonville, this place will kill me, one way or the other.”

Okay, you think. I can let him go. After everything he’s done for me, this is how I can be the friend that he deserves in return. “You should leave, Amir,” you say, tears stinging in your eyes. “I hear you, I understand you. I just wish I could go with you.”

“No, don’t cry, don’t cry! This isn’t the end. I’ll fly back to visit, you know that. Grandma’s still here, you and Cadi are here. And you can visit me too. Maybe you’ll even settle down on the West Coast someday. Eight more years and you’re free.”

You try to imagine your life then: Cadi headed off to college—and she will go to college, you’ve already decided that—and your tether to Willis weakened, closer to 40 years old than 30, Aemond and Christabel nearing their anniversary. How many children will they have by then? Three? Four? And the Lake Verret project will be well-established and no longer in need of so much of Aemond’s attention, and the house they call The Last Desire will sit empty on the lakeshore, warm draughts breathing through it like blood in veins. “I wouldn’t know how to exist anywhere else.”

“You’d learn,” Amir says confidently. “Now, have you ever made a Napoleon cake before?”

“I don’t think so. Not that I can remember.” You consider this. “My mom might have a recipe lying around somewhere. I’ll call and ask her.”

“Yes, do that,” Amir agrees. “If she doesn’t, I’ll try to dig one up at the library. We’ll want to have a few practice runs before the rehearsal dinner. Gotta impress the Rockefellers and their soulless millionaire ilk. Unless you were planning to have a homicidal meltdown and make the custard out of antifreeze or something.”

You chuckle. “No. Probably not.”

“It would be difficult to blame you.” And he turns on the little pink Panasonic radio: Alone by Heart.

~~~~~~~~~~

In a spacious corner booth of the Olive Garden in Gonzales, Aemond is talking about Lake Verret as you pick at your Tour of Italy and Frank Sinatra pipes through the speakers. You could swear they have the same three songs playing on a loop: Fly Me To The Moon, My Way, Luck Be A Lady, back to outer space again.

“But by total coincidence, Daeron has been researching desalination techniques for his latest article. Apparently there are ways to try to mitigate the damage and reduce the brackishness of the water, so we’re going to be—”

Abruptly, you ask: “Where does Christabel think you are right now?”

Aemond’s forehead crinkles, his fork hovers above his plate of herb-grilled salmon. He’s wearing a black t-shirt and his Marlboro jacket, jeans, Adidas sneakers. “Why do you care?”

“She’s getting the wedding I always wanted, did you even notice? She’s getting married at the Chapel of Saint Honoratus of Amiens in Belle River. She’s getting wildflowers and flickering candles.” And she’s getting you too.

“Okay,” Aemond says slowly. “I’m not involved in any of that.”

“I think you are, actually, because you’re kind of the groom.”

“But I don’t do the wedding planning,” he insists. “I have no idea what Christabel has arranged. My job is to be there on the day in a suit and that’s just about the extent of the real estate it takes up in my brain.”

“She’s never mentioned any of that to you? Not once? You’d swear on your life?”

He sets down his fork with a clang and stares fixedly at you. Your waitress glances over from several tables away where she is refilling a couple’s sweet tea glasses. “What do you want me to say? I’m sorry you had good ideas and other people liked them. It fucking sucks that you didn’t get the wedding you wanted when you were seventeen. But that wasn’t my fault. I didn’t know you yet, and you didn’t know me. You can’t blame me for what Willis or anyone else did.”

“But it’s not fair,” you choke out, sounding weak and juvenile, and you hate it but you can’t stop. “I understand that you’re marrying her, I get that, but she can’t have everything.”

“Look…” Aemond laces his hands together on top of the table, and his voice softens. “Even if Christabel didn’t exist, even if you were from my world, even if you were a duchess or a socialite or the daughter of the president of the United States of America, I still couldn’t marry you.”

You scoff; it’s despicable. “Because of Cadi?”

“No,” Aemond says, like that’s preposterous, like he’d never consider her to be a liability. “Because I have to have heirs.”

“Fuck you,” you hiss with vitriol that stuns him. Now the waitress is gawking. “You’re going to manipulate Christabel into walking down that aisle and then immediately get her pregnant?”

“Why are you mad at me?! I’m listening to you, I’m respecting you! You don’t want to have any more children of your own, fine, completely reasonable, I would never ask you to have a baby and go through all of that again for the sake of the Targaryen dynasty, but somebody has to!”

“You really don’t understand why I would empathize with a teenage girl trying to raise a child when she’s lonely and exhausted and confused about why the man she married isn’t turning out to be who she expected?”

Aemond shakes his head like it’s not a valid comparison. “She wants this.”

“She doesn’t know what it is. She doesn’t understand what she’s signing up for.”

“Everyone from a family like mine goes through this,” Aemond says. “My grandparents did, my mum and dad did, Aegon did, even bloody Charles and Diana did, and now it’s my turn. There are growing pains, but people adjust and it all works out eventually. Christabel will learn to manage her expectations, and once the children are born she can find happiness wherever and with whoever she wants to.”

“But you’ll be with her,” you forced out, voice fracturing, and at first Aemond doesn’t grasp what you mean. “You’ll…you’ll sleep with her. You’ll touch her, you’ll kiss her, you’ll do everything with her.”

“Surely you, as someone who called up a stranger from a personal ad in the Bayou Journal, comprehends that sex can be a solely physical act under the right circumstances.”

“So what, you’ll fuck me and then go home to her? Or you’ll fuck her and come home to me? And I’m supposed to live like that?”

“Yes,” he says, like it’s simple, like it’s easy.

You gaze morosely out of the restaurant window. In the distance is a Dollar General, a Burger King, the Kmart where you had to buy your own engagement ring.

“Do you want me to tell Christabel to change the wedding?”

“No.”

“Because if I tell her to pick a new venue, new flowers, new cakes, whatever, she’ll do it.”

“No. She likes her wedding. I can’t take that away from her. She thinks I’m her friend.”

“Cupcake,” Aemond says, tenderly now. You turn back to him. “I don’t want to fight with you. I’m going to be gone for a while, four or five days. I have to fly to Norway and inspect some of the offshore rigs we have up there.”

“In the North Sea?” you ask, alarmed. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

“I mean, it’s oil drilling. It’s one of the most deadly professions in the world. But that’s how we built our fortune, our legacy. I’ve survived before, I’m sure I will again. If you need anything while I’m gone, you can call the house. Criston knows that you’re to be taken care of.”

“No one else can go to Norway instead of you?”

“I have to go.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s my responsibility.”

“Because Viserys told you to?”

“They amount to the same thing.”

“I don’t think you should listen to him.”

“I have to go,” Aemond says again. He takes out his wallet and lays $30 on the table. “But there’s something I need to show you first.”

As Aemond’s red Audi Quattro barrels down Route 70 southbound towards Napoleonville, you say very little to each other. Once you were strangers, and the words flowed easily and your bodies intertwined with effortless need, and now you have known each other for nearly two months and shared days and nights and confessions and yet every ghost filled up the space between you until it was a splinter, a gap, a gulf, a chasm. You miss the person he was when he showed up on your sloping, creaking porch steps back in May. You miss the person you were before you found out about Christabel.

A Men At Work song comes on the car radio, and it takes you a moment to figure out which one. It’s Down Under, a bewildering hit from 1981. “I never understood this song,” you say, staring through the open window as a jungle of southern live oaks, dogwoods, and cypresses rolls by. Rivulets of opaque, slow-moving bayou water snake through the wild green. Pelicans flap their wings in the pink-golden dusk sky. “What’s a head full of zombie? What’s a Vegemite sandwich?”

Aemond laughs, a smoldering Marlboro Red nestled in his left hand. You wonder if once he’s married he’ll wear a gold band on his ring finger, if he’ll take it off when he cheats with you. “Cupcake, it’s obviously about Australia.”

“What?”

“Down Under? As in, literally below the rest of us in the Southern Hemisphere? Head full of zombie means they’ve been smoking weed. Vegemite is a kind of yeast spread they put on sandwiches. I’ve had it, it’s disgusting. The whole song is in Australian slang. Everyone knows it’s about Australia.”

I didn’t. You look out your window again. Aemond takes note and swiftly backpedals.

“But I mean, I can see how an American wouldn’t know that. No big deal, okay? To anyone in the Commonwealth, Australia is like our fuckup sibling. It’s our Aegon. But you guys probably don’t really learn about Australia in school. So…yeah. It’s probably not as obvious as I assumed.”

“Maybe I missed that lesson,” you say. Maybe I missed that year.

In a brand new neighborhood just outside the town center of Napoleonville, Aemond parks in the paved driveway of a ranch house on a three or four acre lot. The yard is bordered by a white masonry fence with chicken wire around the base to keep snakes and gators out. There are a few dogwood and bay laurel trees, and one monstrous southern live oak that’s probably two hundred years old. Aemond cuts the Audi Quattro’s engine and steps out into the twilight.

“Aemond? What are we doing here?”

“Follow me.”

“Why?”

He walks around to your side of the car, opens the door, and leans down to grab your face with his right hand, his fingers hooked around the curve of your jaw. Instantly, there is a bolt down your spine: hunger, warmth, weakness, momentum that is thoughtless like falling from a great height. “Follow me,” he repeats, grinning mischievously. “Right now.”

Aemond has a key that unlocks the front door. Inside is rose pink carpeting and mauve walls, a sunken conversation pit, popcorn ceilings, mini blinds on the windows, closet doors covered with mirrors. You can see your face reflected in them, puzzled.

“This is the living room, clearly,” Aemond says as he continues briskly through the house. As an afterthought, he kicks off his Adidas sneakers so he doesn’t track any dirt inside. You do the same, sliding off your cheap flats from Kmart. He points down a hallway. “There are two guest bedrooms down there, and then a big one at the other end of the house with its own private bath. Here’s the kitchen…” He leads you through it, mint green with pristine black and white tiles on the floor. “And over there is the dining room.” It’s a kind, golden yellow like dawn or sunset.

“Aemond, what—?”

“Bedroom next,” he interrupts, hurrying you along.

At the end of the hall, he opens a door to reveal a sprawling chamber. It is blue like his bedroom in the Targaryen mansion, but not a deep, vivid sapphire color; it is a pale blue like prairie flax or a clear midday sky. The carpet is lush and soft. There are mirrors on the ceiling.

“Those are optional,” Aemond clarifies, pointing upwards. “But personally, I like them.”

“Aemond, whose house is this?”

“It’s yours,” he says.

“It’s what?!”

“Well, technically, it isn’t yours quite yet,” he admits. “I bought it in cash, it will close in a week or two. At that point I’ll sell it to you for $1—the same price as one of your cupcakes, incidentally—and then it will officially be your house. And it doesn’t even have a sinking foundation or any alligators. Imagine the possibilities.”

“But…but…”

“Cadi’s bedroom is green, like the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I’ve been told the yard is big enough for one horse, or two very small horses. Ponies, I guess.”

“You cannot buy me a house,” you say, aghast.

“I think I already did.” He holds out the key to you, resting in his palm among lines of prophesy.

You are paralyzed; it takes you forever to find your words. “Aemond, I’ll never be able to repay you.”

“You don’t owe me anything. It’s a gift, not a trade,” he says, the key still lying in his outstretched hand. “Every cent I spend on you, every second I spend with you, is solely because I want to do it and for no other reason. There’s no obligation. There’s no quid pro quo. And that’s what I feel like you don’t understand. I have no logical reason to keep you in my life, absolutely none, aside from the fact that I want you to be here. And I want that with everything I’m made of. I never stop wanting it. So let me help you. Take the key. Take the house.”

His right eye is on you, imploring, commanding. At last, you lift the key from his palm. Studying it like the cryptic letter of a foreign language, you murmur: “You shouldn’t have done this.”

Aemond rakes his fingers through your hair, tilts your face up towards his, skims his lips feather-lightly from your cheekbone down to your lips—though he doesn’t kiss you, only ghosts his flesh over yours, a taste, a taunt—and then up to the curl of your ear. His whispered voice is colored with wicked scarlet desire. “You don’t tell me what to do. I tell you what to do.”

If he yanked off your t-shirt you would let him. If he unzipped your denim shorts and slipped his artful fingers inside them he would find panties soaked through for him. You would let him do anything he wanted to you, here in this glass-fragile liminality before he becomes Christabel’s in law, in body, in inked and inerasable history. But it would not be because you want to, not because you feel ready in your bones, not because you trust him again. It would only be because you could not bring yourself to resist.

Aemond reads this on your face; he stops before you have to tell him to.

~~~~~~~~~~

On July 1st, Cascade Stables is swarming with parents as they descend upon the property to collect their children and meet the horses they’ve spent the past week with. There is a stereo somewhere blaring Your Love by The Outfield; apparently, this does not disturb the horses. You find Cadi beside the stall of a very tall, willowy beast, ears upright and alert, one bulging eye onyx and the other a striking icy blue. Its coat is white with a splattering of rust-colored stains. Even its mane and tail are comprised of alternating strands, dark, light, earth, clouds, cocoa powder, granulated sugar.

“His name is Patches,” Cadi tells you proudly as she pets the leviathan’s velvety muzzle. “He has a wall eye. And he’s a real handful and usually they only allow the experienced campers to ride him, but they let me try and he listened so well I got to keep him all week!”

“Wow, that’s incredible! Good job! Did you learn a lot about how to take care of him?”

“Yeah. They taught me how to feed Patches and clean his hooves and put a saddle on him. And how to hit him with a hairbrush when he tries to bite me.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Right. Okay.”

“Can we buy him? He’s for sale. Probably because of all the biting.”

“Who, Patches?” You definitely cannot afford to board a horse; and then you remember the new house. “I’ll think about it.”

Cadi peeks around you. “Daddy isn’t here too?”

“No, honey, I’m sorry. He had to work. But he really wanted to see the horses and he is looking forward to hearing all about your adventures.” This is a lie—Willis seems only dimly aware of the concept of a horse camp, and he is staunchly incurious by nature—but a compassionate one.

Cadi accepts the explanation readily enough. “Alright. Is Aemond your boyfriend yet?”

“Um.” You thread the horse’s forelock through your fingers to buy yourself time. It seems unwise to try to deceive her again; Cadi will learn about Christabel sooner or later. “No, we’re still just friends.” You pause. She watches you, knowing there’s more. “Actually, he’s getting married this month.”

“What?!” Cadi is shocked, but she’s outraged too. “To who?!”

“To a nice lady named Christabel. And I’m sure they’ll be very happy together.” Another lie. And you think for the first time: If I settle for being Aemond’s mistress, if I let it tear me to pieces…what am I teaching Cadi?

Your daughter doesn’t say anything for a long time. She pets Patches’ speckled face, her own expression tense and thoughtful, lines and worries that should be far beyond her age. At last she says quietly: “Is it because of me?”

You are mystified. “What, honey?”

“Is the reason why you and Aemond can’t get married because of me?”

There is a flash of crimson wrath in your skull—protective, animalistic, wronged on her behalf—but no one to direct it at. “No. No, absolutely not. Why would you say that?”

Cadi shrugs, and you recognize it as her self-preservation, faux-flippant shrug. “I don’t know. One time I heard Michelle’s mom talking about how no decent man wants to deal with some other guy’s kids. And that’s me when I’m at your house. Another guy’s kid.”

Oh, fuck you, Janet. “No,” you say again. ��Aemond likes you a lot, Cadi. He cares about you.” He picked out a house that could accommodate a horse for you. “You’re the opposite of a problem. He actually likes me more because of you, I think.”

“Okay.” And she’s relieved, although she’s trying not to show it. “Then why is he marrying someone else?”

“Well…it’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

Where the hell do I start? “Aemond and I are very different people,” you tell Cadi. “And we want different things out of life. We like to spend time together, but that doesn’t mean that we’d be able to share our whole lives…homes, careers, values, everything. His family has a lot of expectations of him that I don’t feel right supporting, but Aemond wants to respect their rules. And, you know. He’s a robber baron.”

“But he doesn’t talk about Jade Dragon Energy or oil around me. He talks about history.”

You sigh, watching dust motes swirl through the hot, sunlit stable air, listening to horses nicker and huff. “I know, honey.”

“I don’t even think he wants to be a robber baron. I think he wants to be something else.”

“Like what?” you ask, picking stray bits of yellow straw out of her short, disheveled hair. And remarkably, Cadi tolerates this.

“I don’t know, just…just…” She battles with the words, then finds one she likes. “Free, I guess. Just free.”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n

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blackopals-world · 10 months

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What Nurseries would the fem!AU(Yuus) build

(Look I have baby fever and I'm tired of fighting it)

Vet!FemYuu

Stuffed animals everywhere

Doesn't care if it's a boy or girl they aren't changing it.

Every book will be animal fables

Is praying for the baby to be a beastman but just wants a healthy baby.

Got a bunch of teething toys just in case the kid has their milk teeth come early.

Rainforest noise machine

Once the baby is a few months they are going everywhere in a sling.

The baby will meet all of Yuu's patients and will be constantly covered in fur and feathers.

If the baby becomes interested in fish like their aunt Yuu will cry. She won't let her win!

Marine Biologist!FemYuu

A bit chaotic in decoration

Let's Azul decorate it the first time and cried because it was beige like those weird rich people who only care about aesthetic but have no real sense of style. Like, no color? Babies need color!

Yuu cries while explaining (it's the hormones)

She hates beige

Azul wouldn't argue with a pregnant woman

She wants sushi but doesn't know if she can have it if the baby is half mer.

They installed a tank in the room just encase the baby is a mer

The tweels are banned from holding the baby until the kid can sit up on their own.

Took the baby to swim classes to awaken their natural instincts to swim like all babies even especially fishy babies.

Chef!femYuu

Red and gold for good luck and prosperity.

Pandas for peace and protection.

She wanted everything to be traditional but knows how demanding it will be.

No hot foods, no crab, no lamb, mutton, no sushi, no soft cheese, no soft serve ice cream.

She's dying.

After the baby is born a feast of pig trotters, eggs, cakes, chicken and gelatinous rice is served. She will dye the eggs red.

The baby will get an anti-usog bracelet at birth

She is superstitious so no one will see the baby's clothes before birth.

Noble!FemYuu

Too much? Yeah.

Unfortunately, she insisted due to family tradition. Every child must use this crib first.

The baby has a different crib in every room so it doesn't matter.

Everyone needs to know how precious this baby is. The need to see this crib from space.

More silk! More pillows! More toys! More!More! More!

This baby will have like five names.

This baby will be lorded over the masses as the perfect example of a baby.

Portraits will be painted of this baby that will one day be hung in great halls and later art galleries.

Yuu is way too excited and honestly, even the baby is fed up.

She trying her best.

Special Forces!femYuu

We all know who the father is.

Yep, Rook designed this room

Doesn't matter if it's a boy or girl either.

Yuu was way too tired to stop him and she didn't even try to stop him.

Rook really wants a girl and will try again if it doesn't happen. (he was going to try again anyways)

You'd think he was giving birth with the effort he put in.

Yuu would make him do it if she could. But alas.

The couple was using their pet bunnies as pseudo babies while prepping for the pregnancy. They bunnies weren't happy except for one.

Pistolet the weirdo. Rook's favorite and the dumb one. He was also the future baby's best friend.

Yuu is an iron woman honestly, she shows no pregnancy symptoms while Rook has sympathy pregnancy symptoms.

They eat shaved ice and watch war movies together. Couple goals.

Gardener!FemYuu

A little English cottage nursery

Very whimsical

The baby isn't actually going to use a crib until they are whined because Yuu insisted on co-sleeping despite what the doctor said.(don't do this)

Yuu wanted to deliver the same way as her mother and her mother's mother. In field, by themselves, while harvesting the crops. Have that sucker out in an hour, swaddle it, and back to work.

That didn't happen. They went to a hospital and iron woman over here was put on extended bed rest after giving birth to a big ass baby. Beautiful too.

(???)!Fem?Yuu

They can have kids??

By who?

How?

I mean it's nice but I'm still confused?

Good for them?

You sure that baby isn't a cryptid? That thing has a lot of hair. Looks like that girl from "The Ring". That's alot of hair.

Well, good luck with your hairy baby.

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wolfytoothy · 6 months

Text

3 Am making cookies

E.42. Miles X Black. ADHD. reader

⚠️Listen guys I'm just baseing this off my ADHD, and stuff like that. So don't come after me with the bull shit or anything like that, I'm just basing it off of my ADHD.

This does contain some cussing,⚠️

And don't mind my bad spelling, can't spell for shit but... here we are.

Enjoy bookies.

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

It was 3 in the morning. 3:28 to be exact, and you couldn't fall back asleep. You had got up earlier to pee but couldn't fall back asleep for some strange reason.

You just had a random burst of energy all of a sudden. You huffed and looked at your partner who was peacefully sleeping Like a baby. With his face buried in the crook of your neck, with his Long arms wrapped around your body. You slowly, and softly untangle his arms from your body, and peel yourself away from miles. You rolled over and surprisingly softly fell on the ground.

you made your way down stairs all the way the the middle of the room. Once you did, you had no idea what else to do. Till your brain just went on auto polite.

Lets just say.... you cleaned all of down stairs, managed to learn a whole ass new skill, you found yarn and learned how to croche. You watched TV, paced around the house for a bit, had a whole concert, you did a little Amazon and Shein shopping. You were huddled in the blankets still doing some shopping. Till you got bored. And hungry

You looked at the kitchen and started walking twoards it. You searched through the cabinets and fridge and found cookie dough.

"Ooo" you said.

Time skip:

miles eyes fluttered open as his armed reached for you. But to no avail. His eyes pop open as he sat up quickly looking around for you. He then heard murrmering, and sounds down stairs. He relaxed immediately and made his way to you.

"Mami, what are you doing up this late"

You jumped at the sudden voice and turned to see Miles, "Oh, Hi miles" you smiled as you ran to hug him. He let out a low chuckle and hugged you back, rubbing your back softly. "Hi mama's, but why are you up at 5 in the morning?" He asked. "And ... why are you making cookies this late?" He asked again looking back at your mess on the counter, trying to rub the tired out of his eyes.

"I wanted cookies" you smiled as you rocked back and fourth.

"At 5 in the morning"

"Iv learned not to question how my mind works"

"Mm, but. Why are you up ma"

You pulled away and thought about your latest activities.

"Well, it all started off with waking up to pee, and couldn't go back to sleep so i—" then you went on about everything you did in the past 2 hours or so. "Then I got hungry, started cooking till I relized we need more zipblock bags, and I was like 'oh fuck we need more of these' so I went to my phone and added them to the cart. Then I realized I want frosting, so I added those, then I looked up and saw my phone was about to die then i remembered I need to by a longer charger. Then my stomch growled so I got some gold fish, then I also rearranged the whole living room you know, it wasn't giving what its supposed be given you know, and- oh shit the cookies" you finally stopped ranting and look back at the cookies.

Miles sighed heavily as he pulled you closer by the waist,he gave you a quick peck on the lips and hummed "Mm, interesting" he muttered as he rest his head on yours. "Okay baby,come on " he said pulling you by the hand back to the kitchen.

"Huh? W-were we going"

"To finish them cookies"

"Right cookies... wait, we need more pans,hold on lemme add pans to the cart real quick" you broke from his hands and added it to the cart. Then you got distracted...again. "ooo,bread" you cheered.

Miles huffed and rolled his eyes playfully, he turned around to face you and grabbed you by the wrist gently, "hey" he said, grabbing your attention. He took your phone from your hand,placing it on the table gently. Then he grabbed you chin making you look at him and took your other wrist in his hands.He then gave you a few kisses,witch made you smile up at him. The whe interaction gave you butterflies honesty.

"Mama's. Focus. Cookie" he reminded.

"Right.cookies"

#earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales #earth 42 miles #e.42 miles #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles fluff

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noeou · 1 year

Text

MEMENTOS OF YOU.

as the scariest students in the nrc, they can't help but spark curiosity in those around them when he's found with a rather 'adorable' souvenir. little do the others know they have a rather 'adorable' lover with a matching one back at home.

includes: riddle rosehearts, leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto, jamil viper, vil schoenheit, idia shroud, and malleus draconia.

contains: fluff! romantic. overbolt gang. implied immortal lover for malleus. implied long distance relationship. reader is referred to as 'pretty.'

more like this: masterlist.

sincerely noe ,⠀my middle finger is cramping because i can type with every finger but my thumb and index. i wish i could've written more this weekend, my apologies :(

riddle : an earring in the shape of a rose.

yes, just one. at home, you have the other.

he rarely ever takes it off, only when he cleans it or goes to sleep. but even for the latter he has a spacial velvet case for it.

he keeps a simple silver earring in his other ear, because he isn't the biggest fan of feeling something on one ear and not the other.

the adeuce duo are the only ones nosy enough to ask about it, making their housewarden redder than the piece of jewlery itself.

"are you two done staring?"

riddle was sipping his tea, trying his utmost best at ignoring them. it was their whispering to one another that made it so impossible.

"uhm, yea... i guess." their eyes said otherwise.

"what is it?" riddle sighed, putting his glass down.

finally looking away from him, they exchange glances with one another.

"hurry then, speak."

"why are you wearing that?" ace asked, subconsciously tugging on his own ear.

"— and where's the other?" deuce added.

you couldn't help but wonder if the blush on riddle's face resembled that of the one he had in the moment, as he recounted the story to you.

leona : a photo of himself.

yes, he left you with a massive portrait of himself. how romantic.

he keeps a smaller one of you everywhere. in his wallet, under his pillow, in a random flower pot...

ruggie has even memorized what you look like after finding a photo of you everywhere.

when he first found the lion doing something other than sleeping, enma couldn't help but ask:

"who is that?"

leona didn't move his eyes nor attention away from your conversation lighting his face as he messaged you. but he wouldn't pass up a moment to talk about you so, he'll answer the newbie's question.

"who is who?"

enma pointed at leona's phonecase, and repeated, "who is that?"

"yn?" he asked. looking at the case as well, only you would have noticed his glare soften for a second. "yn."

waiting a moment to see is he'd continue, enma proceeded, "who's yn?"

"why is that any of you business?" leona sat up, setting his phone down beside him. answering for the, now pissed off, house warden his phone lit up with another notification from you. the heart next to your name saying all it needed to.

azul : fisher’s net keychains.

the meaning is unbelievably corny, he refuses to tell anyone what. (including you.)

he found them when he was looking for a gift to give you when he asked you out for the first time.

high on the feeling of adrenaline when you agreed to the first date, he thought that the fisher's nets symbolized how, while there are many fish in the sea, you still caught him. completely enthralled in everything about you.

it's a small trinket with his many, many keys. a constant reminder that the new bowl is only temporary. (i need to get over this fish stuff, im sorry.)

tossing the keys up yet again, looking for a gold one that looked like every other one on the chain. azul let out a huff, beyond frustrated by now. he was supposed to be on a phone call with you, but he left his phone in his office.

not a great way to end the week.

as if drawn by his struggle, a nosy eel popped out, behind him.

"whatcha doin'?" floyd questioned, examining the keys with more intent than the other.

with holding his scream, azul sighed, "floyd... i was looking for my office keys. what are you doing here it's past curfew."

"your keys are too loud."

oh.

"here they are." floyd pulled up the mini net chain, a specific gold key much like the one azul was looking for. "you always keep these to in their own ring, thank me later! and stop being noisy."

how was it possible that a simple net could leave the house warden as flustered as he was? thankfully, floyd was too tired to care.

jamil : a mini music box.

he found them at the marketplace, two that looked very different but at the same at the same time.

one had a person, hugged by snakes in the center; upon opening. the other had a man and a swan at his feet.

you can guess which went to who.

he made you pull an all-nighter with him, trying to pick music for it.

“this?” a random tune played from the antique. as tired as you were, you couldn’t help but laugh at the stupidity of it.

“when you remember me while you’re at one of the prestigious schools in the land… you want to listen to beatboxing?” you were near tears at the thought of it.

“well actually it’s for you.. i’d say my first beatboxing attempt went well.” jamil didn’t look at you as he continued fidgeting with it.

“oh im sorry— every time i miss the love of my life, and i can’t call you ‘cause of our conflicting schedules, i’ll want to listen to your beatboxing.” you snatched the gadget from him with minimal force, “i’ll find something, you dork.”

vil : a mirror.

he's one that used magic on it before gifting it to you. you both can see each other in its reflection, upon request. it's not in a creepy way, it's voice locked so not anyone can look into it.

it's convenient because you two aren't cropped on your screens and can see one another whenever.

rook has walked in on him using it once and boy was he confused.

most of the time, he'll watch you do whatever in your room or just the room itself when your out. it's relaxing and soothes his homesickness.

"oh my— vil! you creep!" you nearly screamed when you entered the room, the familiar form of your lover staring right back at you through the glass of the mirror. letting out a laugh you through a jacket over the surface to cover it.

"hey! how rude." the housewarden glared at you, a silence taking over.

you tossed you bag on you bed, grabbing a seat and sitting infront of the mirror. mirroring the fairest's position.

"you're taking care of yourself." he noted, finally.

a smile returning, you broke your stare and looked away embarrassed. "you as well."

"ask me." he smiled back, softly.

only the question he asks you most came to mind, curiously you obeyed, "vil, who's the fairest of them all?"

"you who continues to plague my thought, dear. it's been a while... how are you?"

idia : plushies of each other.

he found you could make custom ones when he was looking for some of his favorite character, when he was procrastinating packing.

he has so many of you everywhere in his room, it's arguably the cleanest item in there.

the one he keeps on his lap when he games actually has a small bluetooth speaker in it, that he connects his phone to when you both call.

he also has a small one he keeps as an ipad chain, the sight of it made headmaster curious. what a great way to start the first day.

"idia shroud!" crowley's booming voice scared the introvert to something near death, if not death itself.

"h-headmaster? w-what- no- can i help y.. you?" idia asked, glancing around, nervously.

"who's this? err.. what's this?" crowley lifted the mini you with the hope of a closer look.

unable to speak and wishing he could jump into the screen of his ipad, idia decided he might just do that from now on.

malleus : a compass filled with magic.

not just any compass though, compasses that were tuned with magic from the wizard himself.

it was so many years ago that he gifted yours to you, keeping his for himself. when you found his, you couldn't help but 'decorate' it a bit.

while malleus found all the compass coated in the charms and what not of your favorite colors, he found it endearing. much unlike his caregiver who couldn't stop laughing for a week straight.

lilia helped him do the same to yours, telling your lover it was only fair he did it back.

"lilia, are you almost done?" malleus peeked into the general's room, fiddling with his hands, "i was hoping to get it back to yn as soon as possible..."

"ah, you youngsters with you impatience!" lilia didn't look away from his project, tongue sticking out at the corner of his smirk as he concentrated. "the sooner you stop distracting me the sooner i finish!"

"very well," malleus stared at lilia, equally as anxious and hesitant as he was when he entered.

you happened to run into the sight of him pacing outside of lilia's quarters, curiosity getting the best of you. "malleus, my love, is everything alright?"

looking up from his gloved hands, he smiled at you, "hm, i suppose. can i assist you, dear?"

"yes," you smiled up at him, hugging his arm, "have you seen my compass, by chance? my locating magic is failing me at the moment."

you already have the fae's marriage blessing, you can reign all hell on him now.

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matchadobo · 4 months

Text

KIDD; it's the captain's birthday!

wc: 2453

summary: name prepared surprises for kidd's birthday, but unfortunately, it won't go as planned.

warning/s: fem reader, nsfw at the end 🔞

kidd woke up with the space beside him cold and empty. it was strange that he had all the blanket to himself and you weren't there to take it all from him. he shuffled through the mountain of pillows on his bed for you, blurry eyes scanning through the dimly lit room. he checked the bathroom and you weren't there either. so he opted to go outside where chaos ensued.

the crew members had stopped on their tracks from fishing out confettis and streamers from crates, looking at kidd like he intruded at his own ship. kidd was only wearing boxers but that wasn't the surprising bit. he had a scowl on his face and had a bedhead. but his presence that he had walked out that door made everyone turn pale.

"what the fuck are you guys doing?" he cocked a brow, eyeing each one of them to answer. "what? lost your voices or some shit?"

"you sure you don't need to sleep anymore, captain?" one member tried to salvage the situation, rubbing his hands together with a gentle expression as anxiety pooled through him.

"that's not what i asked, is it, rookie?" he got closer, bending down to the poor man's height who shivered at his proximity. "i wanna know where's name?"

there was total silence, no one wanted to speak and kidd was getting impatient. that is until, he heard a clang by the kitchen that followed your shriek afterward. kidd sauntered to the kitchen, had his mind straight to getting to you. the other crew members tried blocking him by the kitchen entrance, but one glare was enough to send them away despite their protests that you firmly instructed them to prevent him from entering.

kidd saw you entirely focused on decorating a cake with a piping bag. baking supplies were scattered on the countertop and on the floor. it was a mess. your hair and outfit was powdered up by what seems to be flour and your arms and apron had scattered stains of whipped cream. he didn't miss how your tongue peeked out from being way too concentrated at your craft.

his canines tugged at his lips as his smile slowly grew watching you. he crossed his arms leaning by the doorframe with the scared rookies at his feet. he waited for you to notice him but you were on your own world. so he made his way closer to you, leaning by the empty space of the table you were working on and crossing his arms. he glanced by the worn out calendar by the kitchen and saw that it was indeed his birthday. his heart swelled at the thought of you going an extra mile to even make a cake for him.

"ugh, what is it? i asked those ruffians to not let anyone in-" when you finally take your eyes off the nearly finished cake, you saw kidd with a cocky grin on his face. you looked up at him with a shit-scared face.

"hm? what's that? why did you stop, bunny? come on i wanna see how it turns out." he said with a teasing tone, gesturing to the cake.

"h-how-" he saw how your expression shifted and he kinda panicked. you pouted, shoulders dropping as you tossed the piping bag by the table. "those idiots had one job." you sighed, disappointed as you crossed your arms. "well, it's kinda my fault for sleeping in."

"hey what's got you so down, lovebug? you gonna stop makin' this?" he walked in front of you, bending down to your level as he pointed at the cake behind you.

"you're a big party pooper you know...!" you avoided his gaze, hiding your flushed face by your palms. "you're not supposed to wake up until 10 or something."

"can't help it if you're not cuddlin' me or stealin' the damn blanket. plus, crew's too loud." he pulled you in for a hug, hand placed at the back of your head. "come on, ain't ya finishin' your calligraphy? this shit's gold." he peeked behind you at the top of the cake adorned with flowers made from fondant, some edible pearls that contrasted the black icing, and the red lettering that spelled 'happy birthday to the coolest captain' in intricate calligraphy and 'hubby' written in little font with a heart. you couldn't see it, but he had to bite his lip to prevent himself from smiling so hard cuz his heart did a thing.

"you givin' up on me? alright, lemme take over. i think i can make a better lookin' one than you can."

with his last phrase, you suddenly pulled away, looking at him with the most offended glare. your hands loosen around his waist, pushing him away and escaping his grasp. "shut up! this is gonna be fire just you wait!"

so he sat on a stool and watch you decorate with much attention. mission success for him. he knows how to push your buttons and he really wanted to see you finish what you did for him. plus, he loves getting you riled up. he adored how your brows furrowed and the little noises you did when you almost screw up. you'd ask him to look at some little designs you do, he'd glance over and tell you it's cute but he ain't even looking at the cake, he's looking at you. he admires how you make everything look pretty. how some of the strands of your hair fall down your face amidst the bun. how beads of sweat form in your temples and he reaches over to wipe it off.

"there! 's all done." you stuck the candles by the cake and lit them with a lighter. you held up it for him and gave him a big smile, proud of your craft. "happy birthday, kidd!"

kidd took a moment to look at you. you were on your pajamas; panties and a silk, short-sleeved button up that looked too stained with the black and red frostings. your hair was too disheveled but the brightness of your smile made up for it, kidd liked you with messy, bedhead anyways. your eyes were tired but they still found a way to smile. you were so bright and so beautiful even if you just got out of bed and already sweated from working too hard. so he's happy that you were the first one to greet him happy birthday today.

he blew the candles with only one wish in mind after looking at you. he planted a kiss atop your head before grabbing a plate and knife. "let's slice 'er up and dig in."

kidd let you sit on his lap, letting you feed him the cake while you also munch on some yourself. he praised how well you did for the cake, urging you to get seconds. he'd eat the whole cake, not leaving anything left for the crew.

he'd reach over to kiss you, the frosting interspersing on your tongues. "thanks, baby." he mumbled through your lips, smiling. you'd comb on his locks while he presses your torso to his.

"that's not all my surprises though, you wouldn't figure this out."

"really, now?" he tugged on your bottom lip. "i can't wait for the surprise during the night." he planted a kiss on your jaw.

"come on, come on. let's get some breakfast!" you got off his lap, pulling his arm to lead him to the deck.

you took kidd to the decorated deck. red, black, and gold ballons scattered on the floor. colorful streamers and flaglets adorning the railings. a round table stood by the middle with two chairs. "what is this?" kidd asked, shimmying through the ballons and streamers that blocked his way as you led him.

"just sit your ass down, kidd." you sat him down and took a seat yourself.

you gestured to the assigned waiter, a.k.a. the kidd pirates' rookies you bullied into agreeing to be the butler for the foods, only to do the signal for about three fucking times kidd started laughing at how silly you looked. you looked back, seeing the group of men who were supposed to be your butlers to be drunk as hell, stumbling over themselves or lying on the floor. they must've drank last night, you haven't had the chance to check on them this morning since you were a mess yourself.

"love, i-it's okay, we can just-" kidd intervened, seeing how stress you are becoming.

"no...!" you promptly responded, finally facing him. "i'll just get them myself." you stood up, walking back in shame. good thing killer was there to help you bring food to the table.

after that disaster, kidd was fondly waiting and ready to start eating with you. fortunately, kidd lightened up the mood by cracking up some jokes here and there. well, he wanted to see you laugh a lot on his birthday. that's what he wished for.

you two spent the day singing and drinking with the crew. playing games with everyone to pass time. having a huge boodle fight. and chewing up the rookies who fucked up earlier.

until the evening came and everyone was either cleaning up or flat out drunk. you and kidd are already in his quarters as you donned a lacey lingerie in red. kidd was waiting by the edge of his bed, legs spread as he took in the sight of you.

"come 'ere, tiger." he bit his lip, doing the 'come' motion on his hands. you made your way toward him, teasing by walking slowly, keeping eye contact, your hands tracing your body from your hips to your chest. when he finally had you in his grasp, the door busted open.

"c-captain! th-there's fire!-" a daring rookie had bursted out of the door, he seems to be in real panic since he wasn't fazed by the glare of the both of you until he finished his sentence.

"what?" kidd answered, pissed at the interruption. "this better be fuckin' serious or i'll throw you overboard." he stood up while you grab your robe to cover yourself up.

"start talking." you crossed your arms, the blush on the boy's face was evident by the sound of you.

"h-heat-san and wire-san are washing up but... suddenly there was fire." he stuttered, nervously sweating under both of your gazes.

"there was fire when they're...washing up?" kidd repeated, puzzled at the fucked up statement. both of you rushed to the kitchen and there was indeed fire. the entire wall was burning and simmering in flames, heat must've been so drunk. kidd slapped the back of heat's head, asking him what the fuck he was doing while you stand disappointed in the corner.

since it looked like kidd had it under control, you sighed and silently went by the bow of the ship. your heart was heavy and you were so sad that today was full of fuck ups. your cake surprise was blown, the romantic breakfast was a bust, and the sexy time was interrupted. you couldn't even make kidd's day romantic and magical. you leaned by the railings, staring at the sea as you let tears flow by your eyes.

kidd soon took notice of your absence so he immediately went on his way to find you.

"hey." he called out, knowing that you're already crying from the way you were hunched over and your shoulders were shaking. he placed an arm around you, rubbing your shoulders as you rested your head on his chest.

"i'm sorry." you mumbled with wet cheeks and quivering lips. "this day was supposed to be special, but everything i planned for was a disaster."

"don'tcha worry about it, sweetness. you can always make it up to me later, with no clothes on." he squeezed your cheek, winking afterward. "but in all seriousness, i had fun today. it's all because you were there." he rubbed the tears off your eyes, kissing your forehead afterward. "the cake, the breakfast, and god the way you looked in that lingerie. it was the first birthday that i was entirely grateful for this day cuz you made me feel really, really special. aye?" he held your cheek with his hand, earnestly looking through your eyes. "you're the greatest fuckin' present i have ever received, you know that?"

"romance looks good on you, kidd." you smiled, tiptoeing to kiss his cheek. his snowy skin soon being flushed from your gesture.

"aye." he tucked strands of hair by your ear. "but you know what else will look good on me? you." he instantly carried you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing and carried you to his quarters. "let's fuck until daylight cuz that's what the birthday boy wants."

he started off by leaving lip marks on your thighs, biting, kissing, and licking the plump flesh while he was carrying you. he plopped you down the bed, his golden eyes teemed with desired as it peeked through his crimson locks. he slid your panties down with his teeth, his breath tickling your skin, and tossed them somewhere on the floor. he slithered his tongue down the crevice of your folds, his metal arm held your neck in a firm grip while his human arm played with your mounds. he eagerly sucked and nibbled on your folds, spreading them deftly. he elicited vulgar moans from you, moans that would make the crewmates from the other room sweat coldly. he loved the way you pulled on his hair as you screamed for more.

he then lied on his back by the bed, arm at the back of his head as he watched you bounce yourself on his length. his hard, girthy length spreading your cunt as you struggle to sit on it. your back was facing him, ass on full display for him to play with. it was his favorite position after all.

he savored how you periodically looked back at him with that helpless expression, lost in ecstacy and pain. how your pants were in rhythm with his grunts as he relishes on your tight warmth. so when you mutter that you're close, looking back with a pleading gaze as your cunt felt numb and your rear was red from his handprints, he felt himself release inside, not being able to hold back from the literal dream that was before him.

"fuck, sorry, i couldn't hold it b-"

"you're lucky my period just finished." you joked, smiling at him. "besides, it's your birthday. i'd consider it."

once you came, he planted a kiss on your shoulder before hugging you by your waist, tightly basking in your warmth and touch. "sun's still down." he bit his lip, anticipating your reaction.

"you're lucky it's your birthday."

waaaahh it's my baby's birthday!! 🌷i just rushed this during the 6th oml 😩 nsfw ver coming soon i promise!!

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ladykailitha · 5 months

Text

Not All That Glitters Is Gold Part 2

Hello! Welcome to part two of my omegaverse. Just a heads up. This chapter is a bit dark. Trigger warning for sex trafficking. Not Steve. This was a way for me to show how well tuned Steve is too his clients.

Part 1

***

Steve packed his bag and stood up to see Robin waiting for him.

“You ready to go?” she asked, holding out her hand for his bag.

He handed it to her. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

They walked out to the waiting car. Once inside Robin asked, “Here’s your phone. The word for you being in danger is kitten. The word for spontaneous heat is catnip. And the word for bonding talk and contract buying is tower.”

Steve took the small flip phone. He had his own smart phone, but those weren’t allowed anywhere near clients. The last thing a Starcourt omega needed were crazed alphas stalking them. He handed her his. She slipped it into her purse.

“Just go a message from Dillon’s PA,” she said, looking at her phone, “he has just gone into pre-rut. Fever, irritability, and mood swings.”

Steve sighed. He liked to get there before that happened. “Did he start early?”

Robin sent off a message and moments later she growled at the response. “Apparently not. Apparently, he didn’t want you there for pre-rut and lied.”

He growled too. “Put him on the black list and tell his PA if he so much as twitches wrong during this, I’m leaving.”

She nodded. “I’ll also let management know. There’s a reason for omegas to be there during the pre-rut and that’s the safety of the omega. If he can’t follow a simple rule like that, what other rules is he going to break?”

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You think I should pull out?”

Robin thought about it a moment. “It’s up to you. One lie isn’t a deal breaker per se. Lots of alphas do stupid shit the first time because they think they’re impressing you.”

Steve nodded. “There is something about this lie that makes me itch, though.”

“So pull out,” she said. “If you’re getting the skin crawlies, don’t go into something you can’t get out of.”

He thought about it all the rest of the trip, until they pulled up in front of the building.

“I think I’m going to go in anyway,” he murmured. “It could be as you said before about it just being fragile alpha ego or it could be a clusterfuck. But the only way to find out for sure is if I meet the client.”

Robin patted him on the shoulder. “You’ve got good instincts, Steve. I’ll back you up in whatever way you need.”

“Right,” Steve said, tapping his lip. “Stay with the car until I text you.”

She nodded again. “Roger that!”

Steve smiled at her and gave her hand a squeeze of reassurance. “Alphas are stupid. I’m glad I never have to deal with them outside of work.”

Robin laughed. “I know, right? But we’re here now. Go show that loggerhead who’s boss.”

Steve grabbed his bag and kissed her cheek. When he got out onto the pavement he looked up at the high rise penthouse. Dillon’s wasn’t the top suite, but he wasn’t near the bottom either.

The doorman stopped him at the door with a critical eye on what he was wearing. All of Steve’s clothes were designer, but comfortable and something he didn’t care about being ripped off him. The Victoria’s Secret PINK sweatshirt he’d cut into a croptop was paired with baggy sweatpants that fuck on the ass and power on one leg and bottom on the other.

Steve just cocked his head to the side. “Dillon Forrest is waiting for me, doll.”

The doorman was about bluster something about not letting in the trash when Dillon’s PA came bursting through the door.

“Oh thank god you’re here!” she said. “His pre-rut is progressing faster than usual!”

Steve rolled his eyes. “That’s why the omega needs to be there before any of that shit goes down.”

She sighed. “I know, I tried to tell him, but he said it was fine. He had a meeting this morning that he didn’t want to put off.”

Steve sighed. Ego. Especially alpha ego was the worst.

He looked back over at the doorman who was opening and closing his mouth like a guppy fish.

When Steve raised an eyebrow suddenly he was spewing apologies and stuttering excuses.

“Take me in,” Steve told the PA, completely ignoring the doorman.

She nodded and led him to penthouse. It was bright and sunny. And that was a problem. His client was on the sofa practically shaking from the pre-rut symptoms.

He found the remote to the shades and closed them, casting the room into dim light. Immediately the twitchy actor breathed out a sigh of relief.

The PA’s eyes narrowed at the drastic change in behavior.

“You act like this is your first rut,” Steve snapped, pulling out a bottle of water from his bag.

Dillon and his PA exchanged a glance and Steve’s eyes went wide.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Steve growled. “How long were you on suppressants?”

Dillon blushed, looking away then back up at the PA. “Since I presented when I was sixteen.”

“And you’re twenty-two now?”

Dillon nodded. Again he avoided looking at Steve and kept looking at the PA like she was in charge, not him.

Steve looked around and put his hands on his hips as he pursed his lips.

“This is a completely different situation then the one that was presented to the company,” Steve bit out. “I have to call my handler.”

He pulled out the phone and called Robin. He explained everything to her as he eyed Dillon and his PA. There was something off about the whole situation. The PA kept her eyes on Dillon, her fingers drumming on her arm, both arms crossed in front of her chest.

Steve listened to Robin, tilting his head further and further as he watched the two them.

“Kitten,” he said. “I think I left something in the car, I’ll be down to grab it okay?”

The PA frowned and stepped forward. “What did you forget?”

“It won’t take long,” Steve murmured, not bothering to answer her. There was a knock on the door and he went to answer it.

“Oh good you’re here,” he said with relief and then quickly closed the door behind them.

“Run!” he whispered to Robin.

She grabbed his hand and opened both elevators and got in one and told Steve to get in the other and go to the first floor and then down the stairs.

Steve nodded. Once in the elevator he called her.

“What’s going on?” Robin asked, panic rising her voice.

“I think Dillon was raised in sex trafficking ring,” he explained, “and you need to send someone to get him out of there now.”

Each omega had their own driver. Big, burly fellows for fending off large crowds of fans or very persistent alphas. And like extreme cases like this where they needed two pairs of hands, the handler and driver would work together to keep their omega safe.

Steve driver was a man named Xander Poulson and had been with Steve since the beginning. Robin had hand picked him and they relied on him for everything when Steve was on the job.

Robin opened her mouth to ask for particulars but closed it, messaging the driver to get Dillon out that suite instead. “All right, Xander will meet us at the car in five minutes.”

After that everything just happened so fast. Dillon sat listlessly between Robin and Steve as Xander sped away.

“How did you know he was in danger?” Robin asked as she rapid fire texted Starcourt management.

Steve ran his fingers through Dillon’s hair softly and the alpha sighed. “He was about to experience his first rut with an escort after having been on suppressants for six years.”

Robin looked down at the now almost delirious actor. “Shit. The only reason for an alpha to be on suppressants was if they were a danger to omegas.”

“Or if they being forced to have sex with other alphas,” Steve muttered darkly.

Dillon whimpered.

“Your flat is being set up for a first rut,” Robin said. “Management is okay with him being there because he’s too out of it to know where he is.”

Steve nodded. He wasn’t sure he could trust anything in the dossier considering most of what they now knew was a lie. “Shit Robin, I can’t even scent him! He smells duller than a beta.”

Robin frowned. “I’ll have a doctor sent over as well.”

They arrived back at Steve’s building and were quickly ushered in. The doctor saw to him first and administered medicine and tranquilizer to put him to sleep for a couple of hours to try and equalize the rut.

Dr Sam Owens, Robin, and manager, Jim Hopper were standing with Steve in his living room.

“Do you think you would have been harmed?” Hopper asked gruffly.

Steve shook his head. “I think they forced the rut because of what happened with his scent. I think they were hoping to jump start it so that he could be pimped out to omegas. But they couldn’t have it be any omega, they had to have someone who could gently see him through it.”

Dr Owens shook his head. “It wouldn’t have worked. He was too far gone. If you hadn’t acted as quickly as you did, there’s a good chance he would have destroyed his secondary gender when he came out the rut.”

Steve just shook his head.

“I just want to know how long they’ve been controlling him,” Robin hissed.

Hopper shook his head. “Dillon was a child actor, there is no telling how long they’ve had their claws in him.”

“Do we know anything about the ring he was being trafficked in?” Dr Owens asked Hopper.

“I’ve spoken to the FBI and INTERPOL, they have a pretty good idea which one it is,” Hopper growled. “The Upside Down, run by Henry Creel. And if Dillon willing to give them information they can probably take it down for good.”

“That’s a relief,” Robin said.

Hopper turned to Steve. “How did you know he was being trafficked?”

Steve blushed and rocked back on his heels. “No hot shot alpha actor was going to defer to their PA not unless it was a relation. Plus there was the fact she never introduced herself. Add to that all the lying about what it was and how little they both knew about ruts, it just really couldn’t be anything else.”

“You did good, Steve,” Hopper said. “You saved that man’s life and may have just taken down one of the biggest sex rings on the North American continent.”

“I was just doing what I do best,” Steve said, “take care of alphas in need. That’s what rut servicing is at it’s core, after all.”

“Well, I’m going to want to keep this hush hush,” Hopper said. “At least as far as the company is concerned. I don’t want to paint a target on your back.”

“I’ve already begun the scrubbing process regarding their files and contract with us,” Robin said. “The process should be done in two hours.”

“Good.”

“How long until he wakes up?” Steve asked Dr Owens.

Dr Owens looked at his watch. “In about an hour.”

Steve nodded. “That should give me plenty of time to get ready.”

He excused himself and went into the bedroom.

“That was not how wanted to spend my morning,” Hopper growled.

“I feel you, boss,” Robin agreed. “I wanted to pull out of the job when we were in the car, but Steve sensed something else was going on right away.”

Hopper nodded. “He isn’t our highest paid omega by a long shot, but he is the best.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Dr Owens said.

“Well, gentlemen,” Robin said, stowing away her laptop. “You really don’t want to be here when the fucking starts.”

Dr Owens and Hopper made faces and allowed themselves to be ushered out of Steve’s apartment.

Robin went through and made sure that the fridge was stocked to her specifications and then locked the door behind her.

***

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @lexirosewrites @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @yikes-a-bee @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @irregular-child @nburkhardt @apomaro-mellow @yellowdevilkitten @lingeringmirth @rememberthatiloveyou @demolvr @ellietheasexylibrarian @slowandsteddie @mangoinacan13

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rockstar eddie munson #alpha eddie munson #omegaverse #a/b/o verse #tw sex trafficking #omega steve harrington

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shankss-magnificent-ass · 1 year

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Imagine the beast pirates finding out you're good with animals

You: *snorkeling for shells in the reefs around Wano*

Octopus: *resting on your shoulder*

Goliath grouper: *keeps bumping into your hands, urging you to throw a rock to play with him*

Reef shark: *glued to your side to get cuddles*

Reef shark and grouper: *swim after what you thought was just a school of fish*

You: *turns around*

Massive Megalodon: *staring at you and only a few feet away*

Octopus: *inks itself and swims away*

You: if I'm gonna die I might as well. *Swims over and scratches its chin*

Massive Megalodon: *leans into your scratches and closes its eyes*

Later that night

King: where were you, I was looking for you all afternoon.

You: I went snorkeling, wanna see my haul!

King: you what! Those waters are very dangerous even for fishmen, you should never go out there again.

You: what why?

Jack: what's going on?

King: this dumbass swam out to Shiro reef.

Jack: how are you still alive?

You: I had a wonderful time, I played with the groupers, got to cuddle some sharks, got a bunch of interesting broken shells. And the reef itself was beautiful!

King: there's a Megalodon sea king that resides there, he's called the Tidal Fury, and he's a known man eater.

You: oh that was a sea king, I was wondering why he was so big. And his name is Stinky.

Jack: you saw it! Did it see you!

You: yes he likes having his chin scratched, he escorted me around the reef, and even brought me home.

Queen: * has been eaves dropping* bullshit

You: he did!

King: uh huh, and I shit gold eggs like in the stories.

Jack: there's no way a puny human is better with sea life than a fishman like myself, get real.

A few days later after returning from a raid

Kaido: keep an eye out for the Tidal Fury, if we lose another boat to that fuck I'm gonna be pissed

Jack: I don't think there's a need to worry too much especially since (y/n)'s best buds with the damn thing.

Queen: *snickers*

You: Shut up Jack.

King: *leans over to you and mutters* he's just jealous of you, he's been trying to make friends with the Tidal Fury for ages.

Jack: *takes a swing*

Scout: Sir the Tidal fury... he's on the port side bow.

The crew: *runs over to the side to see him sticking his head out of the water*

You: Stinky!! *Reaches out and scratches his chin*

King: holy shit you were telling the truth.

You: surprise! I'm gonna go swimming with my friend now, see you at dinner! *Throws yourself overboard and hops on top of Stinky*

Jack: what about unloading the ship!

You: I'm just a puny human, and you're big strong fishman, you can handle it all on your own.

Jack: Well fine, I didn't want to be friends with the Tidal Fury anyway!

You: His name is Stinky!! I named him after you! *Rides away*

Support me on Kofi and Patreon 6/4

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #king the wildfire #king the conflagration #king the conflagration x reader #jack the drought #queen the plague #kaido #from the depths of the dragon's hoard #tma original #6/4/23

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 days

Text

Life in the City 6

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bad friends, creep behaviour, abuse of power dynamics, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You move to the big city and find yourself swallowed up by its chaos.

Characters: Clark Kent, Thor Odinson, short!reader

Note: <3

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you. No tag list, do not ask for updates.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Clark drops you off right at the front doors. You’re early. Typically the bus would drop you off a block away about ten minutes later. At least you have your own office to hang out in.

You head into the office, your iced matcha latte condensating down your hand and wrist. You step off as you try to sop up the mess, distracted as you walk blindly to your cubicle. You stop at the empty desk and scoff at yourself. Your so forgetful sometimes.

You continue down to your office and let yourself in with the key. You shuffle inside and slip your bag off your arm onto your chair. You swipe several tissues from the box and fold it under the cup, setting it down carefully on top of the layers. You shake the moisture from your fingers and go to your chair, moving your bag onto the desk as you search inside for your phone.

“You need a coaster,” a deep timbre breaks the early lull.

You look up as Thor stands in the doorway, smirking as he watches you. You offer a sheepish smile as you put your phone down and fish out your rose gold pen. You place is by your keyboard and find your agenda to put with it.

“Huh, yeah, I could bring one from home,” you shrug.

“Mm, and what flavour is that? It’s rather... bright,” he muses as he breaks the threshold slowly.

“Oh, it’s matcha,” you back up as he comes closer, peering down over your monitors.

“Hm, I’ve never had it. Perhaps one day I might indulge,” he says, “a nice treat to start the day. I’d have guessed something sweeter. You know, the cafe downstairs, they have a cinnamon roll latte. Oh, yes,” he pats his stomach under his jacket, “dangerous.”

You offer a courteous laugh. You can’t help but be intimidated and slightly put off by his spontaneity. You didn’t expect him to just wander in. Nor can you keep him out; after all, he is your boss. He gave you this office.

“I’ve actually never been to the cafe. Bit steep,” you say, “I suppose I should get started.”

You roll the chair back and pivot it, lowering yourself slowly. He hovers as he is, turning to peer around the office. He sucks his teeth loudly and looks at his watch. As you peek up at him, he taps his fingers against his chin.

“This place is so dull. So boring. It does not inspire,” he puts his hands up, stretching out his long fingers, “I believe that atmosphere is everything. My whole vision for this company is innovation and you can’t be creative with... grey walls.”

You look between him and the walls. You didn’t choose the colour. You just took what you got.

“Come, I think we need to do some important purchasing,” he snaps his fingers. “Coasters, don’t want rings,” he points down, “and some art.” He turns and makes a frame with his index fingers thumbs, “mm, and maybe a pop of colour elsewhere. A vase. Flowers always do liven a place up.”

“Oh, well, I actually should...” your voice trails off. You should do what your boss tells you. “Sure, uh, I suppose I could push a few things.”

“Yes, well, fits in nicely, as you always do,” he says, “I did break my mouse... they make those things much too small.”

“Oh no,” you murmur, “let me just...” you grab your phone and put it back in your bag, a notification flashing back at you. Later. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to be running around.”

You step out from behind the desk in your platform oxfords. He looks you up and down, “ah, I did wonder if you had a growth spurt. Late bloomer or something.”

You can’t help but chuckle, “I wish.”

You go to walk around your desk and he points past you, “don’t forget your drink.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.”

You take the cup, most of the condensation has soaked into the tissue. You throw the sodden kleenex in the bin and turn to Thor. You give a bright but shaky smile. You knew today would be a lot but with him, it’s all so fast.

“Staples?” You wonder.

“Hm, sure, I suppose they have what we need.”

“Do you have an Apple computer? You could get one of their pads instead of a mouse,” you suggest.

“Mm, clever,” he remarks as he waves you ahead of him, “already showing innovation.”

“Well, it’s just a thought,” you say.

“That’s where the best ideas begin,” he follows you out into the hall. “Never underestimate the small things,” he comes up beside you and brushes his hand across your lower back before dropping his arm straight, “they do surprise us.”

🏙️

The tall shelves of the office depot tower over you. Most things do. You stop to admire the colourful gel pens, knowing they’re impractical, but still covetous of their glittery inserts.

Your phone vibes in your bag just as you check the time. An hour into your day and all you’ve done is wander the store. It hardly feels like a promotion, it’s aimless. You’re just going along for the ride. Quite literally.

‘Are you free tonight?’ The message expands at a tap.

At first, you assume it’s Melanie. Clark’s name stares back at you, followed in quick succession by a second messaged.

‘Wanted to start planning!’

You measure your response. You don’t have much going on but you’re already exhausted. The week is hardly midway and it’s been a whirlwind.

You type with your thumbs as you sidle along, ‘tomorrow? Don’t have much energy.’

You lower your phone as you hear your name. For such a big man, Thor can sneak right up on you. He’s only a few feet away as he struts up with a full basket. Wow. You smile and press your cell to your leg.

“You on the phone?” He asks as he approaches.

“Oh, no, just... just a message,” you hit the lock button and put your phone in your pocket. “Nothing important. Sorry.”

“Ah, don’t be. I get it. Boyfriend checking in?”

You nearly scoff. You just shake your head, “what did you find?” You point to the basket and he quickly refocuses, lifting it higher to sift through the contents.

“Coasters,” he fishes out a set of flower-shaped coasters and grins broadly, “I thought these were very you.”

“Oh?” You take them and admire them, “cute.”

“And I found this,” he pulls out another item, a long fluffy cloud looking piece of foam, “a wrist rest; ergonomical and all.”

“Right, ha,” you chuckle thinly, “yeah, I like it.” As you look at it, it seems like it will only be in the way.

“But then, you can’t have that without the mouse pad,” he plucks out another item, the same pale blue as the wrist pad.

“Did you get your mouse?” You ask.

“Mm, that’s where I require your input. I can’t quite decide,” he turns to lay out his options on the shelf, “I like the colour of this one but this one’s bigger and this one lights up.”

He’s almost like a child as he explains; there’s just too many good things to choose from. You feel that pain but you’re not used to being the adult. Besides, isn’t he the boss?

“Well, I would say whatever you think would be most comfortable. You said the old one was too small, right? And this one’s pretty hefty.” You point to the center one, “oh, and ergonomic, hey.”

“Mmm,” he hums thoughtfully, “wise. Yes, I do think I’ve made the right choice.”

He takes the center one and drops it into the basket before gathering the others.

“I’ll put these back then we can head back to the office. I almost forgot we have work to do,” he laughs.

You smile sheepishly and follow him. He takes his time putting away the accessories then you set out for the checkout. You’re nervous to start the real work. The hard-hitting stuff.

“I’ve some numbers to go over with you when we get back. We’ll get all this set up first and go from there,” he says as he stands parallel to you as you wait in queue.

“Oh, alright,” you cross your arms, “sounds good.”

🏙️

As promised, your day is more than just an impromptu shopping spree. You put the stack of coasters at the corner of the desk and lay out the new mousepad and wrist rest. Your space is looking a lot more brighter.

Your walls are even a little more colourful. As you review the files Thor sent you the day before, he hangs the modern art prints on the wall. You’re not entirely sure what the abstract shapes are supposed to be; maybe plants?

When he finally sits down, the anticipation has you wound tight. He brings a chair around to your side of the desk and looks over your shoulder. Of all the meetings you’ve had in your time there, everyone has their own device, their own screens. His proximity is overwhelming along with the endless rows of numbers and graphs.

“You’ll see here where Onyx Row was most successful. This should be where we focus. We’ve finally got all their data and so that will be your task,” he explains, “but it’s important to look into the low points too. It’s just as good to know what doesn’t work, eh?”

“Yeah, of course.”

He’s over explaining a bit. You’re an analyst. Your job is to look at it all. Maybe he doesn’t trust you just yet. After all, you are new. You don’t have the same experience as the rest of the team. It would explain why he’s spending so much time with you too.

“So, how are you? Need a coffee yet? Tea?” He shifts his tone. It’s off putting how quickly he can swing from one extreme to the other. “I think I might hit the cafe downstairs as I mentioned.”

“Really, I’m good,” you assure him, “that matcha’s got me jittering.”

“Mm, another day then. You’ll let me know if you need anything?”

“You’ve done so much already,” you smile, only then feeling how he grips the back of your chair, just behind your head.

“Any good leader knows they don’t lead by demanding, they make it possible for their needs to be met,” he stands, a little too close then slowly steps back. “You have my extension, you know where my office is.”

“Yes, sir,” you nod and grip your mouse tighter, “thank you.”

You turn your attention to the monitor and listen to him leave. You feel as if you might melt with impatience. You just want him gone so you can relax for one minute. The door shuts and you slump back with a huff.

You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into. This is a lot of work. Sure, having your own office is great but at what cost? This is senior-level stuff and you’ve only just begun. You only got your diploma a year ago.

As nice as Thor is, he’s still your boss. He’s in charge. If you don’t meet his demands, it could ruin more than just your job here. It would cost you the only reference you have in the field.

You try to calm yourself down at the lines and numbers blur in your vision. You’re scaring yourself. Everyone else has been super awesome and you’re just being you. You sit up and a knock comes at the door. Oh, jeez.

“Come in?” You call.

The door opens and Thor peeks around.

“No coffee, but I couldn’t resist getting you something sweet,” he strolls in with a box in hand, “blueberry cinnamon scone.”

“Wow, oh, I’ll have to have it for lunch, thank you,” you accept it and set it by the coasters.

“For sure,” his grin beams down at you, “just some sustenance to keep you going.” He winks, “you’re in the big leagues now.”

“Sure am,” you agree breathily, “er, thanks again.”

“I’ll just get out of your way,” he raises his coffee cup just slightly, “I’ll be around.”

He leaves you again. You roll closer to the desk and plant your elbows. You hold your head as your eyes bore into the monitor. If you stare long enough into the abyss, it will stare back into you.

You finally get yourself going, falling into a rhythm as you click through the zipped folder. A lot of the information is poorly kept. You can assume a few reasons Onyx Row went under aside from their numbers.

The work is tedious and you find yourself going back and forth. The distant noise of the office can't touch you through your excel glazed trance. You're vaguely aware of a buzz and voices but your furrowed brow blocks the world out.

It isn't until a knock sounds and your name rips through your dry-eyed purgatory that you sit up straight enough to feel the crick in your neck. You reach to rub it as you squint at Thor. Back again?

“Thought I saw light in here,” he comments, “working late already?”

“Late?” You blink and look at the corner of your screen. Holy cow, it's six! “Uh… yeah.”

“I'm… actually glad you're still here, there was something I wanted to touch on sooner than later. Urgent, actually.” He pauses to check his expensive watch, “unless I'm keeping you from something? Someone?”

“No, just the bus,” you save the files and exit out.

“Hm, well, it is quite the conversation, maybe we might talk over dinner? It is late and you're probably too tired to cook, eh?”

“I… that's… you don't have to–”

“I do have a reservation and they have a policy,” he clucks and taps his watch, “you know, I'm getting a bit of a reputation for eating alone too.”

You frown. You want to say know but how can you? Besides, he's offering you a meal, not like he's asking you to stay and finish sorting through a swamp of numbers.

“Well, if it's urgent,” you stand and grab your phone, “I guess we should talk sooner than later.”

“Wonderful,” he pats his stomach, “I forgot my lunch. I'm starving.”

#thor #clark kent #dark thor #dark!thor #dark clark kent #dark!clark kent #clark kent x reader #thor x reader #fic #series #au #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #dc #dcu #superman #avengers

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stararch4ngelqueen · 1 month

Text

Quick Maintenance

Time Written - 11:42 p.m

(Idk where I was going with this, so it isn’t proofread.)

—

Your heavy eyes blinked, slipping in an out of mental focus from the soft snip snip near your right side. Minor tufts of wet hair trickled down your shoulder, sliding along your freshly washed graphic shirt.

“Stay still, baby,” he murmurs, tilting your chin up to keep a level field as focused eyes squinted to study his work.

Calloused hands held thin, little shears he pulled out from the bathroom drawer, snipping away at little uneven pieces of hair he left unchecked.

Work, school, the sheer stress of wondering what kind of person you were in this world would get to you. You weren’t always like this, priding yourself on not caring what the world thought, meanwhile beaming like a ray of sunshine to all those who knew you once you stepped out the door.

One of the toughest enemies you could ever face in your lifetime, who knows every gruesome detail of your agony, every weak bone in your body, holding each detail of your flawed skin to memory, was the teary eyed person that stared back at you in the mirror.

Some days you barely had the strength to get out of bed, brush your hair, or get some water.

If you didn’t have a bodyguard of a worrisome, golden retriever boyfriend leading you towards the bathroom for a haircut, bedrotting would’ve remained a much easier task.

Dick didn’t force you to cut your hair, the idea came to you before you took a shower. Maybe a minor change was needed, something new within your control to make you feel a little better. You came to him after your long, hot shower with said offer, the man slouched on the couch with brow raised.

“Can you help me cut my hair?” You asked, presenting him with some old scissors you fished out from under the sink.

What an offer to receive on such a late evening. Dick never felt happier to see you out of bed, hair wet and changed into a pair of fresh clothes. All anxiety for you melted off his shoulders, sparing his thumbnails from being chewed on a second longer.

“Of course,” he rises from the couch, said old scissors now in his hand. Now, he sat you ontop of the toilet, gently tilting your head side to side with care to make sure every cut was as clean and even as possible.

A favor for a favor, he thought. You helped him cut his hair when it looked way too outgrown to your liking, way past ‘sexy mullet,’ in obvious words. Nowadays, keeping his hair at jawline was both for preference and convenience, though maintenance would’ve been a pain if not for you.

You offered to cut it for him the first few times, he always questioned why. Gotham cuts hair starting at at least twenty five dollars, which he could obviously afford, but having your pretty fingers run through his locks? He’s trusted no one else since.

“Twenty five bucks is twenty five bucks.”

“Twenty five bucks could be spent on dinner for your stylist,” you’d muse, cute brows bowed in deep concentration on getting the length just right. Your prized perfectionist skills left him feeling in good hands.

“I’m proud of you, y’know,” he says to you, voice lowered to a concentrated level that soothed your ears. Any accomplishment you do on one of your bad days was a gold star in Dick’s book.

His support of soft, comforting words of praise acted like a chamomile balm on a soothing ache. Your mind eventually would be soothed, lulling you into a state of affection he provided so well, sometimes reducing you to tears.

“Though, I’m a little disappointed you didn’t use my body wash.” He mumbles, now using some smaller, much thinner scissors to catch the tiny wisps he missed, taking after your perfectionist tendencies.

A trickle of a smile lasted a few seconds on your lips. “Today didn’t feel like a ‘sea salt and cedar’ day, Richie.”

“Guess that’s fair, least you’re wearing my shirt,” his cheeky grin was contagious, your heart warming at the joy that erupted in his eyes in witness to your gorgeous smile.

“There. All done, beautiful.” Dick concludes, brushing remnants of hair off your shoulder before his thumb stroked along your cheekbone, planting a kiss on your forehead.

A short two step to the bathroom sink left you staring at yourself in the mirror once more, your desired length now becoming reality.

In all honesty, you didn’t exactly like the length of the haircut. Picturing it differently in your mind had you assuming more grand expectations on the outcome.

It wasn’t all new, but it was different, a good different. A good, new you, one you’d appreciate and cherish, because that’s what you always deserved.

Besides, Dick Grayson, your puppy eyed golden retriever would make sure you were satisfied with the outcome. How could you say you didn’t like it to such a handsome face? Impossible.

“How’s takeout sound?” He questioned, watching your hands busy themselves by brushing through your new hair, feeling visibly softer along your fingertips.

“I’m thinking … something spicy.” He slips an arm over your front accompanying a soft squeeze, gifting you a smile through the mirror’s reflection. “It feels like a spicy day, yeah?”

“Anything Sounds delicious,” you admitted, your body recognizing and remembering what hunger felt like after hours of feeling numb under soft blankets and pungent silence.

“Gotcha, I’ll call up a place.” Dick steps to the side, allowing you room before reaching for the sink drawer.

“Where’d you get these scissors, anyway? They’re so tiny.”

“Oh,” you quickly recall the memory, an event quite a long while ago while on an essentials stop at a local corner side pharmacy.

“Accidentally forgot to pay for them,” you hesitantly admit, recalling the particular day. Maybe you’d forgotten to pay for an eyebrow kit that came with an adorably small pair of gold trimming scissors.

“My girlfriend, the thief,” Dick repeats with feigned surprise, shaking his head in mocked disbelief.

“Ima have to report you for this,” he smirks, glancing at you out the corner of his eye. “How much were these, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Like, seven bucks?”

“Huh,” Dick clicks his tongue before plopping said scissors back into their designated drawer, promptly sliding it shut.

“Seven bucks is seven bucks.”

#dick grayson x female!reader #titans dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x reader #dick Grayson #gotham knights dick grayson #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n #richard grayson x reader #richard grayson #interesting way to announce I was hella sad and cut my hair but here we are

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five-rivers · 7 days

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My Kingdom of Fish poll fiction! Continued from here.

After a small amount of dithering, Danny took the cameras. He was here to show his parents the library, and he couldn't do that if they couldn't see it. The ambient array could collect data here as well as anywhere else. The Fenton Finder's 23rd iteration was as buggy as the first. He'd actually done a small amount of sabotage to the ‘self-defense system’ to make it safe to carry around, so… Yeah.

The only things he felt at all bad about leaving were the medical monitors and the environmental safety detectors. Both of those had helped him in the past. The Lost Library was supposed to be safe, though. It wasn't a truce zone or anything, but people didn't go there to fight, and the librarians were supposed to take care of any environmental dangers that popped up (mostly because things that could endanger ghosts could certainly endanger books). The Library of Tongues did that, anyway.

He did have to rearrange and remove some of the cameras, especially the redundant ones and the ones that weren't taking his amplified aura well, so that they fit on his much-reduced frame, but they were made to be serviceable, and soon he was ready.

The coat room, as it turned out, was right behind the reception desk.

“There are doors that aren't visible or that won't open for you unless you're a member or have a badge,” the librarian explained as she put the equipment on a shelf. “Another reason not to lose yours.”

“Where's the way in?” asked Danny.

“This way.”

The librarian led him back around, then to the side of the desk. Here, again, the wall had folded back into a set of doors, this one more ornate.

“The copyist's room attendants will meet you down the hallway,” said the librarian, sitting back down at her desk.

Danny nodded. “Thank you.”

The hallway forked right sharply. A ghost woman with bronze skin and dark hair was waiting there, not far from the corner. There was a spiral on the center of her forehead in what looked like gold wire under her skin. The outside end of it disappeared under her hairline.

“Oh my,” she said, hiding her mouth behind a pair of bell-like sleeves, “you’re so cute. Iphigenia didn’t tell me you were cute.”

Danny made a face.

“Ah! Precious! How old are you?”

“I was fourteen when I died,” said Danny, flatly. “I don’t know why places like this make me tiny, but I’m not.”

“You must be young at heart.”

Danny squinted at her.

“Mm? Are you looking at this?” she asked, pointing at her spiral. Danny shrugged, then nodded. He hadn’t been, not really, but in the interest of changing the subject… “It’s what members of the library have instead of another alteration. It’s like the fires you get at the Library of Tongues.” The spiral moved, retreating, unwinding, vanishing under her hair and then spiraling out onto the palm she offered up to Danny. “It’s called the Lìshǐ Yánxù De Jīn Xiàn, although ghosts from western cultures call it Ariadne’s String. No sense of pride for their work, I swear.” She shook her head. “So, if you get lost, or need help finding something, find someone with one of these, okay? We have a pretty big children's collection, believe it or not.”

“I'm not really a child.”

“Oh! So mature!” She poked his cheek, then stood up and opened the door behind her. “Let’s get you situated.”

The copyist’s room was large and brightly lit, lined with beehive-like cubbies that served as shelving for scrolls. There were several work tables spread throughout the room, and a mid-sized manual printing press. There were two other ghosts in the room. One, a stressed-looking larger man with a curly, box-cut beard, and the other a severely thin, angular man with a long, looping tail.

Both wore guest badges, and both had features that did not seem to match the rest of their appearances. The severe-looking man had large, fluffy, soft-looking wings with feathers that twitched and shifted near constantly. He had a quill badge clipped to the belt of his tunic. The other, larger man had moth antennae and wings, but also enormous, ribbed bat ears. He had not one but two badges attached to his robe-like wrap, the candle and the gong.

“Now,” said the attendant, “I know you said that you wanted to do Ancient Greek to English, and when people say Ancient Greek, they mean Ancient Greek from Life, not old Zone dialects, but the Mausoleum of Macaria tipped into the Acheron a few weeks ago, and were swamped with Elysian, Asphodelian, and Tartarian Greek. Especially Tartarian Greek. Would you mind doing something from one of those? It would be much shorter than what we'd give you in regular Ancient Greek, only a few pages.”

She looked at him hopefully.

“It would really help if you knew any of them,” she added.

#danny phantom #kingdom of fish #poll fic #choose your own adventure #dannymay #dannymay 2024

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cheriladycl01 · 2 months

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Why can't I do this? Nico Hulkenberg x PolishOlympicSnowboarding! Reader

Plot: When you are made to go to the Miami Grand Prix, you really thinks you'll be good at surfing as a snowboarding gold medalist. However, those Miami waves prove a bit to much for you!

Credit to rookie-ofthe-year for the GIF

“This is going to be a piece of cake for me Kochanie, just you wait!” You grin picking up the surf board your boyfriend Nico had rented out for you.

“I don’t know Maus, surfing is very different to snowboarding!” He says with a nervous glint in his eyes.

“Come on, the waves are going to be like the little bumps in the slopes and any coral will be like … the mountain rocks … it’s no different at all!” You smile thinking it would be a smooth sailing first time at surfing.

“I know, but there’s just a lot to think of that isn’t … like snowboarding! Like the sharks and the jellyfish and the seaweed and riptides and drowning … I mean there’s a lot that could go wrong!” He offers to you.

“Oh come on, it’s not like I’m going alone in the middle of the night! It’s 5pm, and I’m with my amazingly handsome and strong boyfriend that will protect me from all the scared the ocean might have!” You exclaim knowing he would protect you no matter what.

You get into the water laying down flat on the board and paddling out, a few lighter waves lap over your board until you swim out to where the bigger waves are crashing.

The water was beautiful, a crystal clear blue and you could see some of the little fishes swimming around below as you continued to get to where a wave would carry you.

You’d spent the day at the beach just chilling with Nico, you guys had played beach Volleyball, and made sandcastles, sunbathed and played water ping-pong! It had been an incredible, yet tiresome day. Your energy was just about spent but needed one last thing to get you down for the day.

You saw other surfers out a little deeper, all excited screams or gasps as they fell in but with the sun starting to sink lower in the sky people were having fun.

You spun the board round and waited for the wave coming up behind you before you attempted to stand up on the board, the minute you did you foot slipped and you lost your board.

You came back up, just as another wave lapped over your head making you sputter and cough a bit of water out.

You eventually found your board pulling yourself back up onto it in a seated position. Nico was watching from the shore, a worried dad sort of look on his face and hand in his hip.

You send him a quick thumbs up.

“Just slipped, forgot my feet aren’t attached” you shouted over to him where he nods looking at you a pained expression still on his face making you laugh.

You go again, and this time you managed to get up on the board, only for you to be stood a little too far back, making the board flip you off so you landed back in the water.

“Im going to try again!” You shout over to Nico who is now knee height in the water watching you fail at surfing.

“Maus, I think you should just come in!” He offers back, using his louder voice so you could hear him over the waves.

“Come on, I’ve got this! I have two Olympic medals for Snowboarding!” You exclaim smiling widely at him.

You try multiple more times and continue to fail.

“Why can’t I do this!” You scream out in frustration with yourself not being able to do something that you thought would be so so simple.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself! Your the youngest Polish Woman to win a gold medal in Snowboarding! If anyone can transfer skill it’s you!” He shouts back to you attempting to give you the confidence boost you were so clearly needing.

So you decide to go again. Mind completely in the sporting mode that you had when you were competing.

You swim out with the board again, this time you manage to hop up effortlessly, having that core strength from snowboarding holding you steady on the board despite the killer wave pushing you forward.

It starts to curl in, which is when you get a bit more ambitious to ride higher up on the bridge of the wave on the side so your cruising.

You have an excited little squeal, happy that your up before the wave curls in on you, not escaping the break in time. You get swallowed up, making you go under the water.

You feel a scrape and sting along your leg making you gasp out in the water. A little goes into your airway making you sputter when you come up. You look down and see the red starting to seep into the clear water from your leg.

“I’ve cut myself” you shout to Nico, who immediately comes running over to you the minute he hears you are hurt.

“Maus, what happened oh my gosh! We need to get you out the water now. A shark could get you!” He cries in a panic, lifting you up and carrying you in one arm like a toddler while he drags the surfboard back with his other arm.

“Oh fuck, I think it was the coral!” You say looking down at the cut that was stinging a lot now thanks to the salty water you were in.

“We’re going to have to take you to the hospital!” He says looking at some of the wound that looked a little deeper than the rest.

He took you to get medical attention where they inspected your leg and made sure no coral broke off before wrapping it up and giving you some painkillers to ease the pain.

“I told you surfing wasn’t going to come as easy as snowboarding to you! Your my little winter baby, not made for the ocean or the summer!” He sighs as he helps you into the car you guys rented in Miami.

“I mean, both are dangerous sports. I just thought I’d have better … stability?” You ask looking over at him and he just chuckles looking over at you.

“Ah, you were very very stable Maus, but you are no match for the ocean unfortunately. Stick to Gaia rather then Poseidon yeah?” He asks knowing how well you held up when snowboarding in the mountains.

“I just don’t get how I’m so bad that I injured myself!” You cry with a small giggle, knowing it was a ridiculous thing to be complaining about.

“If I give you a kiss, would that make it better?” He asks.

“Mmm yes very much so” you smile and he leans down brushing your hair out of your face. It was still a little damp and crispy from the sand and salt water you’d spent the afternoon messing around in.

But to Nico, you’d never looked as beautiful as you do right now.

He leans in and locks his lips with yours holding onto your jaw as you entangle yourself together.

“I really love you, and your ambitions but it scares the hell out of me” he admits leaning his head against your forehead.

“Says the Formula One Driver” you smirk looking over him.

“Let’s get you back to the hotel to rest up that leg!” He smiles, helping you up.

“We are getting the first flight back to Poland, you understand?” Nico says.

“Mmm yeah. Home sounds good!” You grin, wanting to see your family soon as you’d been travelling with Nico for so long.

y/user

Liked by hulkhulkenberg and others

y/user: when in Miami you surf 🏄‍♀️ Snowboarding and Surfing are not the same … and I learnt the hard way.

Tagged One Person

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haasf1team: you shredded those waves (she in fact did not)

-> y/user: admin! why expose me! WHY

hulkhulkenberg: you were tough out there Maus but stick to what you do best and get Silver and Gold in!

fan1: I saw y/n in A&E is she okay?

-> y/user: I’m all good, just a scrape on my leg from some coral when I fell off!

-> hulkhulkenberg: this woman gives me a heart attack everyday I swear, and I’ll have to marry her at some point

-> y/user: you say that as if it’s a chore

fan2: when y/n goes crawling back to Poland for the snow ❄️

-> y/user: Nico has demanded this 🥹

Instagram Story Caption:

Goodmorning America 🇺🇸🦅

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#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #nico hulkenberg x you #nico hulkenberg fluff #nico hulkenberg x reader #nico hulkenberg imagine #nh27 #nh27 imagine #lando norris

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