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littlejuicebox · 3 months

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Beach babies.

Man oh man Dadstarion! My mind could probably come up with a thousand scenarios for this theme.

This one might make you all cry. But like, happy tears? Maybe?

Summary: It’s a day at the beach with toddler Gale, pregnant Tav, and Dadstarion. Gale loves his Papa and always wants to look just like him; this presents a problem.

Tags/Warnings: fluff, light mentions of Astarion ptsd/trauma, in game spoilers, kids, parenthood, toddlers, pregnancy, light angst w comfort, comment if you see anything else I’m missing

Astarion didn’t particularly enjoy the beach. It was often crowded, feeling coarse grains of sand stuck between his toes unnerved him, and it was impossible to find a good vintage for miles unless you brought it yourself.

Which, today, he did.

“Loving the sun and loving the beach are two different things, entirely, my sweet.” The elf drawls as he takes a sip of wine from his goblet.

You, Astarion, and almost-three-year old Gale are all sitting on a woven blanket inside a rather ostentatious canopy tent, taking a respite from playing in the water with the toddler. The canopy had been Astarion’s choice — he’d refused to have any beach days without it this year. As it was Gale’s last summer as an only child, and your first born adored the beach, you’d reluctantly agreed to the ridiculous shelter in exchange for two more planned beach days on behalf of your toddler.

Astarion remarked that perhaps you should have used your strong negotiation skills rather than your community service as the main focus of your political platform all those years ago.

And then you won the familial negotiation. Though you still think your old camp tent would have sufficed just fine.

You sigh at your husband, “I suppose. But I seem to remember you being quite content with rolling around in the dirt once upon a time.”

You’re watching Gale as he scoops sand into a bucket. His face is covered in the remnants of fruit juice from his lunch, and his little silver curls are bouncing around in the wind. He’s wearing a thin, white cotton shirt and striped cotton swim trousers — the outfit is basically a child’s version of your husband’s.

Daddy and his mini-me.

Astarion chuckles, “Yes, well… we didn’t have much choice in the matter back then, did we, little love. And for the thousandth time, I did have a blanket set up in that clearing—“

“I never saw it!” You interject, “So for all I know, you’ve simply decided to tell me that to cover your ah— butt.”

A huff from your husband as he rolls his eyes at you, “My love, have I ever lied to you?”

Your eyes narrow, and you open your mouth, about to retort when the elf catches his mistake and is quick to amend his statement.

“Have I ever lied to you after our talk at Moonrise Towers all those years ago?” He asks, cocking his head just slightly, convinced he’s proven his point.

You pause as your mind plays through years of memories. And then you grin playfully, “Yes! The night you proposed and told me you found those gold coins on the dock.”

The elf scoffs incredulously, “You are a pain in the ah— butt. You know what I mean, Tav. Have I ever lied to you to intentionally hurt or manipulate you since then? Or to gain your favor?”

You chuckle and turn yourself slightly — it’s no easy feat, given the size of your pregnant stomach — moving to peck your husband on the cheek, “No, my love. I don’t suppose you have.”

Astarion hums happily as he finishes off his goblet, “Very well then, dear. I trust that means you believe me when I say I did have a blanket in that clearing and you simply couldn’t keep your hands—“

“Mommy! I too hot!” Gale suddenly cries.

When the two of you turn to acknowledge the toddler, he’s thrown his shovel and started thrashing his feet, kicking up grains of sand in the process.

Today was sweltering in comparison to the other days you’d spent at the beach. The canopy was unable to protect all three of you from the worst of the mid afternoon heat.

You sigh and hold your hand out to the toddler, “Gale, come here and let mommy take your shirt off. It’s too hot to be—“

“NO!” The little boy shrieks before standing up and stomping on the sand castle he’d just spent several minutes building, “I want look like daddy!”

“My love, you and daddy will still be in matching pants even if your shirt is off.” You coo, hoping your voice will soothe Gale, though you know the logic is far beyond what an almost-three-year old can understand.

Astarion does not take his shirt off in public. He hasn’t since your days in camp all those years ago, when it had been an unfortunate necessity from time to time. But he always hated it.

His scars are not something Astarion is particularly fond of revealing; even your former campmates have never caught sight of his back since the old days. You know as much. So your only choice, really, is to try and reason with the child.

It’s not working.

Gale is crying now, and his growing frustration is quickly making him overheated. His face and body are both turning red as he wails. Despite the magic dampener around his neck, you both know there will soon be a gust of wind knocking the entire tent down if he isn’t soothed.

“Gale, darling, won’t you please let mommy—“

You’re cut off by a shrill scream. The toddler becomes more red; large patches of crimson are splotched across his face and arms. The breeze is starting to pick up quite suspiciously. It won’t be much longer before—

“Look, Gale! Look at daddy!” Your husband exclaims, and when you glance to the side, you see that Astarion has willingly ripped off his own shirt. The muscle feathering in his jaw shows his discomfort, despite the fact the tent is shielding his back from any potential onlookers.

This catches the little boy’s attention. His green eyes snap open and he begins to relax as he examines his father and realizes the older man is, in fact, shirtless. Gale giggles and then tries to rip his own shirt off, though it gets caught around his neck and Astarion has to lean forward to help him.

The toddler grins at his father, “We match ‘gain, daddy!”

And then he’s back to playing in the sand, the entire tantrum all but forgotten on his part.

You quietly watch your husband, where he is still sitting nearly frozen, clearly working through something in his own mind. He’s wearing that faraway, glassy look in his eyes. The look has become exceedingly rare over time, but still rears its ugly head every once in a while.

Your hand finds its way to Astarion’s, where he’s dug it down into the sand, simply trying to clutch onto something in an attempt to keep himself together.

When your fingers brush against your husband’s, his eyes snap to you, and he’s pulled from whatever thought had been racing through his mind as he threads his fingers through yours. Now he’s clutching onto you.

“You’re a good father, you know.” You murmur, focusing your eyes on your husband’s as you rub the back of his hand with your thumb. A moment of silence passes between the two of you as he simply nods in acknowledgment, unable to bring himself to say anything as he sits in discomfort. Gale is singing happily as he scoops more sand into his bucket, oblivious to the two of you.

You flash a wide grin at Astarion and his eyebrows crinkle as he watches you, not understanding why.

“I think the twins think so, too, daddy.” You whisper, and you bring his sandy hand to your stomach, where the first few flutterings of movement can barely be felt beneath the stretching skin.

For just a moment, Astarion forgets himself as he beams and moves to place a kiss on the swell of your abdomen. Anyone looking at your family might have caught the quickest glimpse of his scars in that single, fleeting instance. But then the moment is gone, and he lays down with a sigh, obscuring his back completely.

“I just did it because I couldn’t be bothered to pitch the tent again if Gale accidentally blew it down, my love.” Your husband says in that offhanded, airy way of his that he uses whenever he’s feeling particularly vulnerable.

And right there, you think that may be the second lie Astarion has ever told you since your discussion at Moonrise Towers all those years ago.

But you’ll let that one slide.

#astarion fanfic #astarion x tav #baulders gate astarion #astarion fic #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x f!reader #astarion x female reader #astarion reader insert #dadstarion #dadstarion fic #Papastarion

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sugar-plum-writer · 3 months

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A Heian Era Affair

Paring: GojoSatrou!ModernEra x FemReader!HeianEra! Tags: Fem!Reader; Gojo!imagines; slight!mention of violence; 18+ as more chapters come; slow burn [I want to have a good build up~ just like my Sukuna series fic~]; An ancient Japan romance through time with reader Text: Gojo ends up in the Heian Era through unknown reason (will be revealed later on) and meets reader and hence a journey begins both of adventure and romance~ [If you all like it, please heart and reblog the post! to know you want to read more~ and follow for chapter updates! or leave a comment to tag you when I put out new chapters~ I will do my best to roll out UPDATES ASAP!]

CHAPTER - 2

You were stuck now, you barely had enough for yourself and now this 190cm giant man was in your house, how did you end up like this even you are confused yourself. All you remember was eating something known as a cheesecake and the next thing he and you were in your house

"Oh wow, it really is old" Looking around he touched the wooden beams examining the craftsmanship

"Fascinating!"

"Well…it-"

Before you could say anything; a loud slam on the door boomed across the room making you freeze in terror- as if a demon had arrived

"HIDE!" hurriedly you shoved him in the corner much to his confusion

"Wh-?"

"Don't…make a single sound…got it? Please…" Trembling you looked at him and closed the cupboard

"Y/n! Open the door!" with a bang the door of the house flew open causing you shrink back in horror

"There you are" loud steps thumped as the wooden floors creaked underneath, a man walked in smirking- about seven feet tall, his voice dripping with malice

"If you ain't gonna pay the tax today~" smacking his lips eyeing you head to toe "I will need to collect it some other way hehe~"

"It won't be necessary, I have the money" Opening a drawer shakily- you took almost all the money you had and gave it to him

He was disappointed but took the bag of coins, "You won't be so lucky next time…Y/n" Looking at you with a filthy grin he left slamming the door shut behind him

"phew…"

"Who…was that?" his stern breathy voice made you jolt

"It…was the tax collector…he is the right-hand man of the chief…he always targets me…aish it's hard our leader is trash really", biting your lips you glared at the door the man walked out from, "I want to leave this village and go away somewhere else…but…I don't have enough money nothing can be done..." you stood up groaning

"I see…." with a nod clenching his jaw, he looked at you

"Now about you" Looking at him up and down your brain raced with what to do about his appearance, he was tall, his hair was white- eyes were blue, and he was super good-looking. His clothes were weird- he screamed attention; if anyone saw him god knows what would happen to you

"Yes, what about me?"

"Since you can teleport and all can you also change your appearance like magic?"

"I cannot…I might be able to fight, teleport etc but I cannot change my appearance- I am no magician though it would be fun heh~"

"So you are useless then"

"Hey! I am not useless! I am very strong…the strongest" pouting he crossed his arms together

"Yeah, Yeah…as if" Rolling your eyes you sighed

"Can you at least do household chores? Help around the house? Washing clothes, dishes?"

"Yeah! I can I am Gojo Satrou after all~" he smirked cockily

"Fine good…not completely useless then" Looking at him with doubt you rummaged through your drawers and took out a set of old blue robes

"This…belonged to my father... he died in a war so you can use it for now..." your voice dripped with melancholy as you handed the robes to him

"I see…well thank you I will...treasure it" he tried to smile but the atmosphere was gloomy as he looked at the robes

"By the way? What is your name?"

"Y/n is my name, you change- I will prepare dinner", walking out of the room you made your way to the kitchen

After some time, the scent of hot food and its aroma permeated the air, he sat near the table as you arranged the plates, bowls, and chopsticks

"What is this?" he looked at the food curiously like a child who found something interesting

"It is millet porridge rice, with some vegetables on the side"

"I see…no meat?" picking up his chopsticks he took a bite

"Hmm! Not bad now this 100% organic food~" humming he ate

"Meat is a luxury for nobles, we peasants…it's a dream to even eat a bite, sure some people hunt, but I can't…I don't have enough strength" Picking up your chopsticks you ate your food

"What is organic?" you looked at him, he sure used some weird terms

"It is…well...uh it's like pure food you know? without anything added to it!"

"How do you add something to food? It is gross"

"It is, the world after 1000 years is very different! buildings are touching the skies with more than 30 floors" Excited he explained many things as you guys ate, even something known as a car though you don't know what it meant, it was fascinating though

"It is....very different, your time sounds nice; I guess people are not suffering as much" you chuckled

"Our time has it's own problems but hey! maybe when I go back I can show it to you~" he smirked smugly

"Really?" your breath hitched as you looked at him, to be able to live in a world like that is it possible?

"Well, if I do manage to find a way back…I also need to find my clan" helping you pick up the dishes, he and you together washed the dishes- sure he did look dumbstruck, when he saw the ancient way as he called it when you sat down to wash dishes

"Man…I really appreciate modern technology now…thank god humans evolved...I cannot live like this...." sighing he did his best; though he broke one bowl but the guilty puppy eyes he gave you made you not say anything

Seeing him struggle you could not help but chuckle; soon everything came to an end, all the dishes were washed and it was time for bed- finally the day had come to an end after all the chaos you were exhausted

"I only have one futon so we will need to share, I never needed two so I never bought another one...is that okay with you?" taking out the futon and pillows you arranged them on the tatami wooden floor

"Well...I uh don't have any other choice do I? I am in no position to complain haha~" chuckling he laid down on the futon and you laid down beside him; blowing out the candles as the moonlight illuminated the room and braided your hair

"You said you were from the Gojo Clan I have never heard of it?" turning towards him, batting your eyes you gazed at him

"Well...our clan has existed since the Heian era"

"What...? that is amazing to survive till your time...more than a 1000 years"

"Yeah", smirking his azure eyes glistened under the moonlight, "It is, but I never cared....does not matter to me I just need to find the clan in this era...and find a way back"

"But...how will you convince them you are part of the clan?"

"No need to worry, just my ability is enough to convince them~ I am that great after all~"

"Huh....you mean their are more people with powers like you?"

"Oh dear you have no idea~ how vast the world truly is- it's beyond your wildest dreams"

"Really?....where is your clan though?"

"Well...that's the point I don't know; in the modern times it's in Tokyo, but...I don't know where Tokyo is in this era...hah.." sighing he looked you with tired eyes

You paused

"I am sure you will find it...." smiling you looked at him trying to cheer him up

"I hope so~ if not ahhhhh I don't know what I will do~ maybe become head of the clan in this era or something?" with a wink he sneered

"Y...you know how hard it is to become a clan head? people DIE trying to do so...?" your eyes widened in horror

"Darling~" leaning in lips inches apart "All the worries are unnecessary, Afterall I am the strongest~ just trust me dear!"

Link to my pinned post which has my master list and other links! in case you want to read more of my works!

[I have tried my best to look through historical maps of Japan in the Heian era and hence many details I use will be historical just like in my first chapter. From food to location to lifestyle~] And thank you so much for more than a 100 followers! I am so glad you all like my work! my asks are open in case you have any questions for me etc~ I will put out a short intro of myself! <3

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rachalixie · 1 year

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what i’m looking for

you, quite literally, run into kim seungmin on your escape from an arranged marriage.

tags: strangers to lovers, hidden identity, she/her!reader

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

word count: 3.4k

you never thought you would be in a situation like this, running through the woods in poorly fitting clothes and shoes, branches snagging at your hair and arms as you wind your way through the forest searching for something, anything. and yet, here you are. cursed engagement ring hidden away in your satchel along with a pocket of gold coins and whatever stale pieces of food your handmaid was able to steal for you before you took your leave.

you’re surprised it took you until a week before your wedding to run away, but you were never one to back down from a challenge; you tried everything you could think of to call it off, but your parents wouldn’t budge. something about it being the best decision for the kingdom, or whatever - nevermind what you want. nevermind that your brother would become king and therefore you were simply a bargaining chip to be used for political power. nevermind the reputation of your betrothed, the reputation of his kingdom and how they treat women like you. nevermind that they’re sending you into a life of despair and discomfort.

the cool dusk breeze beating against your face feels almost euphoric as you sprint, cautiously looking behind you to make sure you’re not being followed. surely someone had noticed your departure? but you made sure to cover your tracks well; the boots you’re wearing are several sizes too big, stuffed with cloth to ease the fit, and any tracker would dismiss them on their hunt for you.

you’re abruptly sent down to the forest floor when a boy appears almost out of nowhere, tripping you and making you lose your footing. he tumbles down with you, taking the brunt of your fall, and annoyance pings within you when he groans at the impact. you’re scrambling off his lap as fast as you can, hands scrabbling at dried leaves on the ground that stick to your palms.

“where did you come from?” you demand, watching him stand up with an indignant look on his face. his pouty lips are twisted into a frown and his hair is fluffed up from his fall. in any other situation you might think he was cute. “do you not watch where you’re going?”

“oh sorry, i’m not really used to people running through my property,” he says with a roll of his eyes, and a reprimand that you have to tamp down sits at the tip of your tongue. for all he knows, you’re a commoner; announcing that he should be aware of your royal status and that technically, you own this property probably isn’t the best move. he would turn you in faster than you can speak your own name, collecting whatever reward your father most likely posted in return for your safe delivery back to the palace.

“your property?” you land on, feeling it a safe question. you look past his head and notice a tiny cottage a few yards away, ivy lining the bricks and a soft puff of smoke escaping from the chimney.

“yes,” he drawls out, as if talking to a child. “the place where i reside. you know, sleep and eat. surely you know what that is?”

“of course i do,” you huff, crossing your arms. did you look homeless to him, or something? a terrible idea sparks in the back of your mind as he looks away from you and you notice the rapidly setting sun. it hits you that you had no plan, nowhere to go, nothing to eat and no shelter for the night.

“anyways. enjoy the rest of your. jog?” he says, voice lilting up at the end like he’s not sure whether or not to be suspicious of you. he turns to walk away and a flash of panic takes over your body.

“wait!” you lunge to grip at his sleeve, a display of impropriety that you usually wouldn’t let yourself indulge in with anyone other than your closest advisors. the material feels rough under your skin, as do the borrowed clothes hanging off of your shoulders. “do you have an extra room? or a mat on the floor? i can pay you, i just need somewhere to stay.”

“what, are you on the run or something?” a spark lights in his eyes, and your hair stands on end when you realize that he’s amused. as if he knows anything about you.

“or something,” you grit out, knowing that whatever sarcastic comment that you want to make probably won’t end up with him agreeing to let you in. despite his inarguably annoying personality, he has a house, and you need him right now. you can’t imagine that you’ll run into anyone else tonight, and sleeping on the forest floor does not seem safe.

“how much?” he says, quirking an eyebrow up. you mentally cringe at the amount of money you have hidden away in your bag,

“enough,” you squint your eyes at him, gauging him. he meets your gaze for an impressive amount of time before nodding his head towards the small building and starting his trek.

“what’s your name?” you ask, following behind him, knowing but not caring that not offering yours first was rude. he looks back at you for a beat of time before shrugging.

“kim seungmin. and you?”

you give him your name, grateful to your parents for the first time in a while. they kept your true name hidden from anyone outside of the palace, and their secrecy was annoying until this very moment. it would be nice to be called something other than princess for a while, you’re sure.

he mouths your name, letting it sit on his tongue for a moment before grinning.

“well then, welcome to my home. i’ll make up a cot for you in the living room, are you hungry?” he rambles as he lets you in, closing and locking the door behind you. the skeptic sarcastic you met outside seems to melt away to reveal slumped shoulders and tired eyes, unmasked by the comfort of his space. it warms you up along with the shelter of a roof, a reprieve from the biting cold of the outside.

he doesn’t wait for your answer before walking off, leaving you to stand between the small kitchen and cozy looking living room. there’s small trinkets strewn around, soft mismatched couches with worn blankets and a rickety looking kitchen table surrounded by stools. he returns with a thin padded mattress and a pillow and he sets it down by the burning fireplace. it’s not the luxurious four post bed that you’re used to, but it’ll do.

“let me treat that for you,” he gestures at your knees, where small dots of blood seep through a tear in your trousers. there’s a small scrape you didn’t notice until now, the sting making itself known when you bend your leg just a bit to get a better look.

“it’s just a scratch,” you protest, not wanting to bite off more than you can chew with him. you already owe him for letting you in, you don’t want to think about how fast your reserves will dwindle down if he does you any more favors.

“please, i insist,” he guides you to sit on one of the stools at the kitchen table before reaching into the cabinet next to him. “i’m an apothecary, and i know my way around basic medicine. it’s not a big deal.”

you nod stiffly and let him inspect the small wound, the breath leaving you when he drops to his knees in front of you to get a better look. he rolls up your pant leg and he cleans it with rapt attention, making sure not to press too hard, and applies a greenish looking salve onto it.

“there, all done,” he says, patting the bandage he had wrapped around it before letting the cloth of your trousers back down.

“thank you,” you say, genuine in the way his returning smile is. you reach into your bag, fishing for the small bag of coins. “how much? i can pay you in advance for letting me stay, and for this.”

“keep it,” he says, voice even softer than it was before. “you can help me around the house. the weeding, or gathering wood for the fire. i don’t want your money, not when you probably need it more than i do. i make enough to get by.”

so you do. the first morning you stumble through the garden, side by side with him as he shows you which plants in his garden were herbs he could use for his medicines and which were leeching weeds that needed to be plucked before they took over the entire space. he disappears to town in the afternoon, delivering medicines and coming back with a pocket jingling with coins and a bag full of fresh pastries for the both of you. they taste better than anything you’ve eaten from the palace cooks, and you can’t help the way you moan around the cherry hand pie. you catch his eye and he meets it before you both dissolve into giggles, leaning into each other’s space on the same side of the table.

he helps you wash your clothes that night, tutting at how you only have one pair. he lends you a pair of his, an old set that he doesn’t wear anymore. you lay at night and swipe the fabric between your fingers, smiling at the gesture even though he isn’t there to receive it.

his kindness shocks you, you’re not used to people doing things for you without the authority of the crown making them or them demanding something in return. it’s nice, knowing that there’s people in your kingdom that contain such compassion, especially for strangers.

the next day he takes you deeper into the forest to pick berries, and the red and purple bursted splotches staining your fingertips for hours after. he feeds you some with his bare hand, swiping his thumb against the corner of your mouth when sweet juice escapes it. you bristle at the action and he laughs, and you have to hide your smile in your sleeve as you wipe the rest off yourself. you stay out until the sun begins to set, him busy teaching you about every type of plant the two of you come across on your stroll and you listening with rapt attention. his voice is soothing, words speeding up and slurring together a bit when he finds something particularly interesting that he wants to show you. he makes you feel almost like when you were a child studying with your tutors, quizzing you every now and then to test your retention, but the smile he rewards you with is better than anything they ever gave you.

on the third day, he’s gone before you wake. he left a note on the table for you stating that he had to go to town for a medical emergency, and that there was bread and cheese in one of the cupboards for you to eat while he was away. you busy yourself with two knitting needles and a ball of thread you find in the living room, trying and failing to create a pattern of knots. he comes home as the sun is setting, the last rays making his hair a honeyed brown and his skin glow. your stomach clenches at the sight of him, the relief you’re feeling foreign to your body.

he grins at the sight of you surrounded by unraveled strings and gently pries your hands from the needles where they had become clenched. he wordlessly shows you how to create simple weaves with the needles, and you have to ask him to show you twice because you’re too busy staring at his tongue poking from his lips to focus the first time around. you end up with a wobbly looking hat, some knots too bit and some too tight that create gaping holes in weird places, but he places it on his head and thanks you for it anyways.

“you have a lot of secrets,” he muses the next night, sipping tea with you by the fireplace. you almost lose your grip on the mug from his abruptness.

“i do?” you ask, not willing to give away information that he doesn’t already have. you had spent the day in companionship, trading back quips and sarcastic comments between meals. he taught you about the medicines he was making that day, explaining each ingredient and its properties as he cut them up and beat them into a paste. his comment was out of place, but it’s something you’ve come to expect from him; there’s no predictability to him past the way his eyes crinkle up when he smiles and the way his face goes soft when he looks at you.

“you pretend you’re a commoner, but your hands are free of callouses. your hair is full and healthy, you speak formally, you’re clearly well off. or at least, you were. what i don’t understand is why you decided to leave that behind.” his bottom lip is twisting between his teeth, not knowing whether he’s crossed a line with you.

“true,” you admit, wrapping your hands further around your tea and letting the warmth seep into your hands. it grounds you. “i didn’t think i had a choice. i wanted to make my own decisions, wanted to decide my own fate, not have someone do it for me. i felt suffocated, so i just. left. i don’t know what i was looking for, but i needed to get out.”

“have you found it?” he says, peering at you from above his mug as he takes a long sip. “what you’re looking for?”

“maybe,” you pause, looking into his eyes. they’re cocoa-dusted brown, the fire dancing across his pupils. he looks away after a moment, and you’re grateful for it. you wouldn’t want him to see the flush thats traveled up to your cheeks and ears.

by the fifth day, you’re able to identify the uncomfortable feeling in your gut whenever he walks into a room. or looks at you. or breathes, really.

you’re falling for him.

you’re not in love with him, you’re not so deluded by his puppy-like charm and stupid smile and cute teeth and sparkly eyes that you’re calling it love. you can simply identify the feeling of free falling as clearly as it was laid out in the novels you used to sneak into your room to read by the candlelight before bed.

it isn’t as difficult to look him in the eyes after you’ve identified it as you thought it would be. if anything, you’re even more drawn to his magnetism, your body moving towards his without your permission at any given time. while he’s preparing lunch, or chopping herbs, or telling you about his trip to town, you’re in his space. and the worst part is, he doesn’t seem to mind. in fact, he seems to gravitate towards you with the same intensity, or you hope so at least; it isn’t unrealistic that it’s your rose-colored vision making you see things that aren’t there.

regardless, it brings something more dangerous to your attention: hope. the hope that maybe, this could be a life for you. that this temporary stop in your journey might become permanent. that you’re far enough from your home that no one will recognize you if you step into town, that you could spend the rest of your days with him in this cottage, eating pastries and knitting and picking berries.

there was no need to tell him that now. you were fine with the way things were, you were still technically engaged, and you didn’t even know if you were ready for something like that. for the infinite time since you can remember, you’re cursing your sheltered upbringing for not teaching you how to live.

it’s on the sixth day that things go crumbling down.

he’s gone again, leaving you in comfortable silence broken up by birds chirping outside and the sound of leaves rustling past the windows. it’s domestic, the way he works during the morning and comes home a few hours later to you twiddling the knitting needles between your hands, a ball of yarn by your feet and a haphazard scarf forming under them.

“your highness?” he says, and you hear a rustle of paper, him putting his mail down most likely.

“hmm?” you sound absentmindedly, still focused on the knitting you’re trying to painstakingly learn. it hits you a moment later what he said, and you drop the scarf and needles with a gasp. you look up to see your worst nightmare in the form of him holding up a missing persons poster, a drawn image of your face adorning the middle and your name plastered underneath. missing princess, it reads, complete with a reward for your safe return. you knew this would happen, you just didn’t think it would happen so soon. a day before your wedding. you thought you had more time. you were so close to your freedom, and you could feel it slipping through your fingers.

“shit,” you curse, hiding your face in your hands so you don’t have to take in the shocked look on his face. you feel all the blood in your head rushing south, leaving you lightheaded and overwhelmed.

“you’re the princess?” he clearly has no care for your distress in this moment as he stalks towards you, the poster crumpling in his hand when it curls into a fist. “i’ve been harboring the missing princess in my home?”

“yes?” you mumble into your fingers, letting the despair settle in your traitorous stomach. he lets out a sharp breath through his teeth and you flinch, thoughts swirling.

“do you know what would happen to me if anyone finds out i’ve been keeping you here? prison would be a paradise.” you hear his feet bringing him closer to you, each drop synchronizing with your heart beating in your throat.

“please,” you remove your hands, sniffling when a traitorous tear traces down your face. “don’t send me back. i’ll give you all the money i have, just don’t send me back there.”

“hey,” he soothes, anger melting into concern as he folds to his knees in front of you. “i won’t. i wouldn’t. i just- why didn’t you tell me?”

“i didn’t know if i could trust you, at first,” you stutter out, ignoring the way your heart clenches when his face falls. “and after…there wasn’t a good time.”

“why would you give all that up? a life of luxury, never needing to ask for anything, why would you leave that to spend your days here? don’t you want to marry some prince and live in your castle?”

“i don’t want some prince. i want you,” your voice is wobbly, vision clouded by the tears you won’t let fall, but your intention is clear.

“you can’t just-” he cuts himself off, taking in a sharp breath through his nose. “you can’t want me. i’m nobody.”

“you’re not,” you press, standing until you’re level with him. “don’t you understand? it’s you. you were what i was looking for all this time.”

“but,” he protests, running a hand through his hair, mussing it up from its careful placement. “why me?”

“you’re my home, seungmin. i’ve never felt more safe or more comfortable than i have within these walls.” desperate tears continue to sting at your eyes, and he reaches to wipe them away before he can help himself. your palms move to cup his hands to your face, keeping his warmth there. “you’re the only one who sees me as more than just something they can use, you see me. please don’t send me away.”

“would you be happy here?” he asks, voice trembling. he wants you to stay.

“i’ve been happier these past six days than i’ve been my entire life.”

he surges to kiss you, finally letting your lips touch after days of lingering glances, and it feels like coming home.

you didn’t know if you would go back to the palace, but you knew you had responsibilities that you couldn’t just ignore and that you had to deal with them soon. what you were completely sure of was that, despite the wishes of your family, you won’t marry at all if you aren’t marrying him.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fanfic #kim seungmin imagines #seungmin fluff #seungmin x y/n #stray kids x y/n #stray kids drabbles #stray kids fic #seungmin x reader

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katnissdoesnotfollowback · 30 days

Note

Katniss feeling insecure one random afternoon after seeing Peeta interact with some pretty girlies and asking him later that night all quiet if he thinks she’s pretty 🥺

I meant for this to be funny and then it turned out... not funny. Oh well. Enjoy some post-Mockingjay not fluff but not really angst??? No warning tags on this one.

“Having an eye for beauty isn’t the same thing as a weakness,” Peeta points out. “Except possibly when it comes to you.” - Catching Fire, Chapter 15 “You’re not very big, are you? Or particularly pretty?” - Mockingjay, Chapter 16

It takes me longer than usual to finish trading with the new butcher. She’s originally from Ten and came here after marrying a soldier from Thirteen. She refused to live underground any longer and he tried living in Ten, but felt too exposed and jumpy in the flat plains of that district. Twelve was their compromise. But I haven’t had the chance to build the kind of rapport with her that I had with Rooba.

Rooba. I make a mental note to ask Peeta to draw her for the memory book tonight. We’ll both have memories of her that need to be recorded.

When I finish with the butcher, mostly satisfied with the cuts of deer meat and the coin I walk away with, I make my way over to the bakery. Usually I’d help Peeta close for the day. I got lucky catching the deer so close to the fence, but it still took time for me to bring back enough help to drag it to the butcher.

Surprisingly, there are still a handful of customers in the bakery. Unusual, this late in the day. I hasten my steps, thinking Peeta might want some help getting rid of the chatty customers, and seeing me after a hunt usually does the trick.

As I reach the window, though, I slow my pace. It’s not just any customers. It’s the Lassiter girls. They moved here after the war with their father, who used to be the head foreman at a perfume factory in District One. Apparently someone thought his skills would translate well to running a medicine factory, because that’s what his job here is. And his five daughters -- Neroli, Dior, Ambrette, Clary, and Opal -- aged twenty-four to sixteen, spaced two years apart down the line, are each just as beautiful as the last. Gossip holds that they each have a different mother, and while there’s been no confirmation from their father on that point, they’re each so strikingly different in looks and coloring that it wouldn’t surprise me.

They’re currently clustered near the counter, a bouquet of undoubtedly sweet smelling flowers. Their dresses a rainbow of eye-catching hues in expensive looking fabrics. All I can do is snort as I think of how dull and dingy their clothes would’ve been if they’d lived here when there was still a coal mine. But their hair, although different shades, all gleams in glossy waves and curls and curtains of shimmering silk in the bright lights of the bakery.

I hear Peeta’s laughter then, followed shortly by the twittering chorus of the Lassiter girls’ giggling. Ugh. They cannot be serious. Not my Peeta.

None of them are married yet, and there’ve already been several District Twelve men turned away from their front door step with dazed looks in their eyes, like they couldn’t believe they’d actually dared to propose to one of the Lassiter girls. And while this group ambush of my Peeta gives me an idea of what sort of partner they might be looking for, it’s unacceptable.

I push through the bakery door and attempt a smile. Neroli sees me first. The oldest, and by far the smartest of this bunch, our eyes meet and her lips curl in a smile. She’s dressed in a dark, forest green dress. Her dark, almost black hair swept to one side, into a long, sleek ponytail. There’s no denying that she’s stunning. Long, sooty black lashes frame her pale eyes that I’ve never been able to decide if they’re blue or gray. Some part of me knows that if I were somehow more beautiful, I might look like her.

Neroli glances at Peeta, then back at me. She inclines her head slightly towards me, and I’m not certain what she means until she speaks.

“Father will be wondering what’s keeping us,” she announces to her sisters. “Come on. Get your purchases and let’s leave these two turtle doves alone.”

She still pauses to say something to Peeta before she and her sisters clear out, but the glance she throws my way before shutting the door behind her makes me think that maybe Neroli and I might’ve been friends under different circumstances. When I finally manage to look at Peeta, he’s head down in the cases, cleaning them out.

“Lock the door for me? How was your day in the woods?”

“Not bad,” I tell him as I throw the bolt. “I got a deer.”

“That’s great!”

“Put this in the cold storage while I sweep?” I hand him the package from the butchers and he hands me a broom across the counter. It’s one of my usual chores and it isn’t long after that we’re headed home. But all through dinner, I can’t get the image of the flock of Lassiter girls twittering around him out of my head.

I distract myself after we clean up the kitchen with the memory book, telling Peeta about the deer today and how things went with the new butcher. We share a few memories of Rooba while he sketches her and I write them down in draft. We manage to finish her page and seal it into the book before it’s very late.

And while Peeta showers with me, and stands next to me while we brush our teeth and get ready for bed, he somehow feels distant. As I lay down and watch him as he carefully removes his prosthetic, I can’t help but think again about the Lassiter girls.

“Goodnight, my love,” he murmurs as he turns to me, slipping his legs under the covers and cupping my cheek in his palm before kissing my lips once, softly.

“Goodnight,” I respond and blink when he turns out the light and lays down.

But I can’t get comfortable. And behind my closed eyes, I see a still ravaged Peeta, the hijacking reversal barely even begun. His knuckles pale as he gripped the bedsheets beneath him and restraints holding him down, safely away from me.

“You’re not very big, are you? Or particularly pretty.”

I huff out a heavy breath and jam the heels of my palms into my closed eyes, trying to push the image out of my brain. He’s laying right here beside me. He kissed me and called me his love just minutes ago. What Peeta and I have puts the stars in the sky and the poets’ words on the page to shame with its depth and significance. That’s far better than some superficial beauty.

And yet the words still slip past my lips.

“Peeta,” I whisper, and he hums in response so that I’m not sure if he’s fully awake or not. “Do you think I’m pretty?”

There’s a few seconds of silence and then I hear the sound of the sheets rustling as Peeta turns over to face me.

“Are you serious?”

“It’s just a question,” I say and smack my hands down onto the bed, right at my sides. They’re still clenched into fists and I try to hold back the sudden, ridiculous tears welling up in my eyes. Because his hesitancy to answer tells me what I need to know. How stupid of me to ask.

“Katniss, honey,” he breathes and moves through the dark, pulling me into his arms. “You will always be as radiant as the sun to me,” he tells me and I snort, wishing I’d never told him that phrase or how I’d once used it. “No, I’m serious. Katniss, you take my breath away.”

“But I’m still not particularly pretty. At least not as pretty as Neroli Lassiter, am I?” I poke and I can feel his frame stiffening besides me.

“No. Oh no, no, you can’t believe what I said that day, Katniss.”

“But you were right. I’m not very big.”

“And we both looked like shit that day because we’d been through too much shit. That doesn’t mean I meant it, Katniss. You have to know I was… I was trying to hurt you that day. Hurt you the way I thought you’d hurt me. Because I thought you’d used me, chosen Gale and the rebels, and left me to die or worse in that arena.”

“I know,” I say and finally manage to turn over into his embrace, burying my face in his chest as he caresses my back and whispers a hundred apologies for his careless words. I inhale his scent and let his hands soothe me.

So when he slips his fingers beneath my chin, I let him lift my face to his. I close my eyes and savor the brush of his lips against mine.

“You once told me that I had a weakness for beautiful things,” he whispers. “Real or not real?”

“Real,” I answer without pause. I can smell the horses and feel the warmth of Cinna’s glowing ember costume. I can see Peeta in front of me, radiant and beautiful, and smiling in amusement at my assessment of him. “But you don’t have a weakness for beauty. Only an eye for it,” I remind him.

“So yes, Neroli Lassiter is a beautiful woman--”

“And her sisters?” I prod and I can feel Peeta smiling against my lips as he kisses me once.

“And her sisters are, too. But you’re the only beautiful person I have a weakness for. No one else has left a lasting impression the way you have.”

I can’t help but smile stupidly at the repetition of his words from the cave. The reminder that somewhere amongst the acting for the cameras, we always had at least a sliver, a taste, a fraction of or at least the roots of something real.

“I’m still a goner for you, Katniss Everdeen, real or not real?” he whispers, and I already know the answer. I know what he wants me to say, because it’s true.

“Real.”

#words are peetas thing not mine #everlark fanfiction #everlark #post mockingjay #i don't even know what this is #but here you go anon #enjoy #anonymous #look at that ask

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sitp-recs · 7 months

Note

Hello, do you know Drarry fics that contain Draco having a boyfriend or dating someone? I just look through the jealous!Harry and pining!Harry tag but not all of them that specific "the person I want is already with someone else :( " angst im looking for

Hi there! Jealous!Harry is such a juicy trope. I don’t often read them with other people in the same fic (I especially avoid OCs because I hate feeling conflicted between ships 🤣), but I think you might enjoy these:

Stay by @kbrick (M, 5k)

Life is all about what we do with the opportunities we're given - the ones we miss and the ones we refuse to let pass us by.

To know the pain of too much tenderness by @cibeewastaken (T, 6k)

Harry is in love with Draco, and Draco sometimes goes on dates with other people, but it’s not like Harry could be bothered by it when he never told Draco about his feeling, right? Right. So Harry isn’t that bothered by Draco’s dates, what bothers him is when one of those dates knocks Draco up and doesn’t want the baby.

Constellation Prize by @andithiel (E, 12k)

Harry’s been pining for his friend and Auror partner for almost a year. But despite what his friends say, he and Draco aren't an old married couple...Draco has a boyfriend, there's no way he'd ever be interested. Right?

Friends? Is That What We Are? by @l0vegl0wsinthedark (E, 33k)

What the hell is Harry even supposed to do when he finally realises that he loves Draco? He's an idiot and it takes him a while but he gets there. They get there.

Here's The Pencil, Make It Work by ignatiustrout (M, 49k)

Harry thinks "Why is Malfoy working in a coffee shop in muggle London?" is a much simpler question than, "Are you going to accept that auror offer and, if you don't, what will you do?"

Modern Love by @tackytigerfic (E, 61k) - Draco doesn’t date anyone else but Harry’s jealous of a specific person (more info in the tags) so I think this fits your ask!

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

Left My Heart by emmagrant01 (E, 85k)

Auror Draco Malfoy has disappeared, and Harry Potter has been sent to San Francisco to find him.

Level Two: Series One (E, 113k)

By Ashii Black (ashiiblack), blamebrampton, Catsintheattic, dustmouth, epithalamium, incandescent (lmeden), josephinestone (orphan_account), leveltwo, nerakrose, raitala, Romaine, Vaysh, Writcraft

Witches and wizards are disappearing in a seemingly random fashion. Coincidence? Abductions? But no one is claiming ransom. The Aurors are not even sure the disappearances are connected, then one of the missing turns up dead. Meanwhile, Auror Harry Potter is thrown into the infamous Sirius Black Muggle murder case from 25 years ago. Given a chance to clear his godfather's name for good, Harry is not above accepting even the help of magical specialist Draco Malfoy.

Grounds for Divorce by Tepre (E, 122k)

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter. A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt.

Close Behind by @oflights (M, 134k)

To rescue Draco from the Underworld, Harry has to look forward. Unfortunately, Draco has to look back.

Can't Sit Still by wilteddaisy (E, 193k)

Five years after the war, Harry finds himself drawn to Draco Malfoy by memories that aren't his own. Or, in which Harry hates his Auror partner, Draco flips houses, Pansy sleeps around, Hermione is a magical creatures’ justice warrior, Blaise is getting married, and Ron is just along for the ride.

A Secondary Education by Thunderbird587 (E, 234k)

Fleeing the aftermath of his recent divorce, Draco Malfoy takes up a post as the new Potions Master at Hogwarts. At first he believes his hopes for a fresh start are dashed when he sees that a certain boyhood rival is on staff there as well. But Harry Potter is being weirdly nice to him, leaving Draco no choice but to play along.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #jealous Harry

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zhongrin · 1 year

Note

Merry Christmas Rin and here is my present to you

Santa Zhongli have a lot of presents for you if you feed him a cookie and drink his all of his creamy milk

Perhaps you might like him coming home to you all tied up in ribbons and a pretty bow, the look on his face when he saw you made him speechless and highly aroused that it's evident by the bulge in his pants

"Welcome home darling would you like to open your present now or later"

after snapping out of the little daze he was in chuckled

"My it seems like I've been very good this year to deserve such a delicious present to ravage and fucked senseless to my heart's desire"

he's now towering over you staring with lust filled eyes that seems to be glowing almost like a predator hunting it's prey it sent a pleasurable chill down your spine

"Now then how should I open my present should start slow by peeling it off one by one kissing lower and lower or should I rip everything off and take you in the most intense feral rough fucking that will leave you dumb, drooling and begging to be used as my cum dump isn't that right pet but first I'm going to leave you tied up and eat you out until I have you squirting on my face before I have my way with you"

Well let's just say we had a very and I mean VERY long night and day(s) enjoying his present.

𝐬𝐫𝐜. — [NaVir_log] ✼ [hooang18]

milk and cookies

◇ characters ◇ zhongli

◇ tags ◇ dragon!zhongli (you're at zhongrin at tumblr dot com, you shouldn't be surprised), afab!reader, sub!reader, fingering, (one) slap to your thigh, reader implied to have a voice kink, power imbalance, overstimulation, petnames (darling, dear, dearest, sweetheart, my love, beloved, pet, mate)

◇ a/n ◇ *head in hands* this was supposed to be a small blurb. a small blurb. how did it get to this point????

.... anyway.

MERRY HORNYMAS (this should've been the actual title actually) MY FELLOW DEGENERATES!! MAY YOUR HOLIDAYS BE FULL OF HORNY THOTS AND MAY YOU GET TO CUM AS MANY TIMES AS YOU WANT!!!! hsjdjskdj dirty talk with zhongli… *flashback to azeru’s latest rex lapis asmr* AHEM. while this isn’t as filthy as that, i think this suits zhongli better… altho morax still came out to play just a bit bc i’m a whore for him

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

“did you know that apparently, the tradition around this time of the year in the other nations is that you leave cookies and milk for the old man dressed in a strange outfit so he can give you a present in return?”

you’re not sure how that one innocent, nonchalant statement landed you in this position, but you honestly don’t really want to complain. not when your beloved is staring at you from between your legs - with those glowing eyes that shine brighter than freshly minted mora coins and that sinful draconic tongue of his eagerly lapping the mess you made after your… third? fourth? let’s just say fourth time seeing all white.

“want you in me, please, please-”

you’re reduced to tears and begging, just the way he likes it; an evident fact by the snarky lilt of his lips. the sharp talons dig into the flesh of your thighs, reminding you of the bestial ancestry of your lover. you know he would never draw blood from you without your consent, but the thrill, the danger, the knowledge that he is far more powerful than you - a puny mortal human with no adeptal powers whatsoever - rips a shameless moan from your lips and makes your cunt clench around nothingness.

archons, you just want him to fill you up already.

“patience, my dear,” he chuckles, and you realize in embarrassment that you’ve said your thoughts out loud, “you know how i like to take you. slow and sensual, before bringing you over the edge again and again… much like a well-written contract, i must make sure to prepare and highlight all the very delicate points clearly before delving to the main girth of the agreement.”

you would have rolled your eyes at his words if you weren’t craving and drooling for his cock. leave it to your lover to liken having such intimate moments to writing a contract.

the beautiful man presses a sweet kiss to your throbbing clit and moves to nibble your inner thighs, human fingers with neatly trimmed nails of his right hand replacing the soft skin of his lips, rubbing circles and pressing against the right spots. the sensual massage elicits a series of whines out of you, yet zhongli stays true to his words, taking his time to build your pleasure from the start all over again, greedily drinking your noises of pleasure and countless pleas for something more.

your gentle dragon coos lovingly and you inwardly thank rex lapis (the irony flies past your pleasure-soughting brain) for the finger that sinks into your velvety walls. it’s not enough, but it’s a start. it’s something, at least.

“look at you, clenching so tightly around one finger. darling, how will you ever make me fit inside you? maybe we should stop. i really don’t want to hurt my precious beloved.”

breath hitching, you grab onto his wrist before he can retreat completely, teary eyes staring right at his mischief-laden smile, “i can! i can take it! please, please don't pull out- don't stop-”

“oh? are you sure?”

you nod fervently, knowing that you’re willingly walking into a trap. but you’ve chosen to walk into the den of a dragon, and you already know you won’t be leaving until he’s satisfied. so you’ll gladly play the games he wishes to host - for you know it’ll end with both of you satiated. zhongli is anything but selfish, after all.

“very well… why don’t you show it, then. prove your… determination, so to say,” he nuzzles onto your thigh and readjusts his hold, “how many do you think you can take, hmm?”

“o-oh. uhm-” you stare bashfully at the way he splays his fingers on your crotch. his hands are always so pretty, you muse. slender and long, prominent knuckles and visible veins, always so warm and calloused from millenia of battles, dark colored as the fertile soil and pulsing with geo. he always knows how to flick his wrist, and he’s well aware of the effect he has on you when he chokes you with his fingers as he-

“darling, i asked you a question.”

with a sharp exhale, you spluttered a meek three? to which he replies with a hum. you’re trembling for excitement at the hard edges that have settled to his features. morax commands obedience, and it seems like the slight mistake you made has slightly ruffled his patience.

without warning, his beautiful fingers slide into you - an easily done action given the number of orgasms you’ve been put through, yet the unexpectedness of it startled you, and a curse word falls from your lips.

you don’t even feel the loss of his appendages; the loud slap and the burst of pain blooming across the skin of your thigh hits you first, and you arch your back in response, tears slipping down your temples, mouth lolling open in a loud wail.

“language.”

a meek apology is all you could provide before his fingers delved back into your sopping hole with newfound tightness. he’s going slow and yet he finds the spot that makes you scream in pleasure right away, having done this so many times it’s practically muscle memory for him. zhongli sighs fondly at the way you start bucking your hips, egging him to increase his pace, but he is unyielding as stone as he speaks with a warning in his voice, darkened and colored with lust and order.

“darling, stop misbehaving. aren’t you supposed to only receive your gift when you’re good?”

in other words, don’t be a brat or he’ll stop.

“i wanna cum,” you whine, more tears lining your pretty lashes, fists gripping onto the sheets in desperation. still, you ceased your movements upon his scolding, much to his delight.

“i know you do. and i shall make sure you do, dearest. all for me.”

the man shifts and stands onto his knees before crawling on top of you. he easily towers over your form in this half-dragon body, and when he settles his lips right before your ear as he restarts the sensual but precise thrusts of his appendages, you know.

you know you’re in for a treat.

honey sweet words with filthy connotations spoken in dulcet tones fill your ears. your eyes squeeze shut, teeth gnawing on your bottom lip as your senses focus on the otherworldly sensations consuming your whole being. the expert hand playing with your body, bumping against that spongy spot and causing more slickness to drip down the mattress. his breathing and the little growls and hums and chuckles filling your auditory senses, demanding your attention and sending jolts of pleasure right down your core.

“doing so good for me, darling. you were being a little bratty just now, but i can see how you’re trying so hard to be my good little pet.”

“can you hear how wet you are? dear me, i’ve just recently changed the bedsheets but here you are soiling them in record time. how naughty of you.”

“submit to your archon, sweetheart. let me take care of you. you’ve been working hard, haven’t you? you deserve a little reward… i’ll gladly provide that.”

“feel how good my fingers are. that’s right, good. keep tightening around me. you’re so adorable, my love…”

“are you imagining it was my cock instead? are you wishing it was my cock that was inside of you right now? oh, my beloved mate, did the thought just make you squeeze? hmm? are you close? you are, aren’t you?”

zhongli muffles your incoherent babbles with a kiss, stealing your breath and the last bit of your sanity away. your nails dig onto his bicep as he silences your moan with his tongue, your climax hitting you harder than your previous ones. your walls spasm and your hips squirm from the incessant thrusts of his fingers, but your lover stubbornly persists in helping you ride your orgasm fully. it feels like hours had gone past when he finally stops - and he only allows himself to do so once you’re twitching helplessly under him and pliant in his arms.

you’re sweating and drooling and crying. simply put, you’re a pathetic mess. yet as your loving spouse pulls away, all he sees is the most divine deity sprawled on his bed, coming down from the blissful heaven that he helped you ascend to, and so in a sudden burst of admiration and love, he places a gentle kiss onto your sweaty forehead.

you hum and close your eyes, allowing your body to rest and gathering your consciousness back into you, savoring the long kiss that speaks of appreciation, warmth, and adoration.

the moment of reprieve is suddenly broken when you feel him reposition himself, before a finger taps on your soaked clit.

“beloved, this old god is still quite thirsty… you’ll let me milk you some more before giving you your present, right?” he blinks and seems to have realized an error in his words, chuckling and giving you a hungry look as he uncaringly swipes his dirtied fingers through his damp bangs to slick them away from his face, hips jutting out proudly with an obvious bulge that’s far too big for normal mortals, straining against his pants.

“— ah, apologies... i meant presents.”

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #rin writes #rin answers #rin is having tea with: sheepmc #minors dni #this is sheepy's fault. ok? ok

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momo-ceros · 1 year

Text

the convenience store at the corner || ken ryuguji/reader

summary; there is a small konbini on the way to musashi shrine that belongs to your grandmother. forced to help out, at least there are cute boys to look at. one in particular

tags; sfw, reader is a year older than draken, draken is a simp, teenage boys being teenage boys

author’s note; momo writing something in the holy year of 2023? impossible. i wanna start writing more i think so feel free to send in requests.

You were working at a small shop owned by your grandmother after school, which just so happened to lay on the path between his and Mikey‘s school and Musashi Shrine. Despite their rowdy reputation, you always greeted them with a kind smile but also did not shy away from using a sterner tone, particularly when Mikey made grabby hands at the Takoyaki behind the counter.

His crush on you made him feel ridiculous. He was the fearsome vice president of the Tokyo Manji Gang yet uttering more than a ‚hello‘ and ‚thank you‘ towards you seemed like an impossible task. He rather take on entire gangs all himself before you knew.

How unfortunate that you did. Whatever made teenage boys think they were slick about their crushes, you didn‘t know but you wish you had that kind of self confidence in other matters. You weren‘t blind, of course you saw the way the tip of his ears flushed in a deep red when he came to the counter. Honestly, it was kind of endearing.

You didn‘t know a whole lot about him, not more than what was told on the streets. You were a year older than him, he was some high ranking member in the teenage toddler group that were delinquent gangs and certainly seemed to be the most mature. Certainly more than his little friend who seemed to love drawing dick on the review notepad meant for customers. You were certain that Draken was 99% of his impulse control.

‚Draken‘ you had heard his friends call him on numerous occasions. That and ‚Ken-chin‘, but he did not seem to appreciate that nickname too much, judging my his reaction.

‘He was sorta cute’, you concluded as you sat behind the counter, your eyes following him, as him and his friends made their way through the store, laughing and joking around.

“They are still 150¥”, you chastised in a monotone voice, looking up from your magazine as Mikey flinched and moved his hand back from the pastries in front of the store.

“But we are regulars!”, he complained loudly pouting.

“No. He is a regular”, you said, pointing at Draken, who immediately flushed faintly, trying to keep his posture, “he is a regular. You have never payed for a single thing in your life here.”

Mikey grumbled, unable to deny the fact that Draken brought everything here anyway while he just picked what he wanted to have.

“Fine. Since I am unwanted here I am going to leave”, he said, leaving Draken alone to pay for their snacks with you.

“Sorry about him”, Draken apologised, rubbing his neck nervously as he placed the items on the counter.

You started to scan the items, taking your sweet time.

“Its fine. I’ve gotten used to it. Must be annoying for you to always be on baby sitting duty.”

“He can be annoying. Real annoying. But imma still follow him”, Draken said earnestly.

“How unfortunate”, you hummed, a glint of humour in eyes as you grabbed a milk bun.

“I didn’t-“

“Free of charge. For being a loyal costumer”, you said, winking at him.

Draken gulped and dropped the sweaty yen coins onto the table.

“Thank you. I am sure he will appreciate it.”

You mulled over the thought that just came for you before shrugging. Might as well go for it.

“One more thing”, you said as you rang up his change and scribbled something on a piece of paper before handing both to him.

Draken stared in confusion at the string of random numbers.

“Uh… thanks?”

You leaned forward, resting your head on your hands.

“Thats my number, dragon boy. Free of charge. Give me a ring sometime”, you teased with a wink.

A deep, scarlet blush spread across his cheeks as Draken stuttered out a thank you before speedwalking out of the store, pushing instead of pulling the door, quickly rejoining his friends. How fun.

You watched him stumble, rejoining the group of his friends who, upon hearing the recent development, cheered for him. Boys. It was kind of adorable actually.

You stretched, staring at the clock. 2 more hours. Maybe you would close your shift and the shop to a message.

#;momo’s writing #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #draken x reader #draken x you #draken x y/n #ken ryuuguji x you #ken ryuguji x y/n #ken ryuguji x you #draken fluff

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soiarsys · 4 months

Text

i sometimes see people say things like, “nobody has a role in my system. we dont fit into any because we’re more like, “guy who is sad” and “girl who is productive”.” or even, “i can’t be [role] because sometimes im weak/sad/self destructive/etc etc”

firstly i want to say, this is okay!! don’t use roles if you don’t want to! make up your own, even!

but i also want to remind everyone that fully formed alters (as in, not fragments) are full, multidimensional people, and people aren’t always consistent. we’re also all traumatized, and that shows sometimes no matter who is fronting. protectors can be scared. trauma holders can be happy. persecutors can be kind to their system. the definition of the role doesn’t have to be the definition of you as an alter. protectors are just alters who feel protective over, and sometimes physically protect their system. that doesn’t mean they can’t be scared sometimes, that doesn’t mean they automatically can handle a traumatic situation well, that doesn’t mean they never feel depressed. same goes for any other role.

also, there absolutely are roles for things that are more complicated too, if you want to use them. some people like being “guy who is sad” while others like being “trauma holder” or “depression holder”, even if it might mean the same thing to them. roles don’t have rules, they’re created by us, and what is making you [role] can be anything, depending on how you interpret it. and you can still have one even if you don’t feel like you are any of the “common” roles. even if what you do in the system is hyperspecific and uncommon, you can still find/make a role for it. but you don’t have to. it’s also just a descriptor.

this is getting long and im not entirely sure this gets my point across, but i have been seeing more and more stuff like this, and i think people shouldn’t be scared away by roles just because they’re so broad and there can be so many. just like nobody should have to identify with roles, nobody should be intimidated or scared away if it might be beneficial or fun for their system.

also if you are looking for roles, there’s pluralpedia (keep in mind this is an endo friendly website, whether that keeps you away or pulls you in to the website isn’t what this is about i just know it’s commonly mentioned). there are also lots of instagram accounts and tumblr blogs who coin (create) roles! you’re bound to find some if you look under the tags or even scroll through a system blog long enough. if anyone coins roles on their blog or knows any other role lists/carrds/docs/etc plss reblog with them!

#♟️.txt #osddid #actually plural #did #osdd #system #did system #plural #plurality #pfdid #polyfrag system #system roles

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thestoryden · 2 years

Text

Savior, Part 4

Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: Incest, Sadness, References to Bullying, References to S.A.

Word Count: 1k

A/N: I have been trying to work around work to get this out. This is part four in the Savior series and it does need the context of the previous interactions to be fully understood. If you would like to be added to my HOTD taglist please follow the link below. If you would liked to tagged in the next part of this series only please comment below. Thank you for reading.

Masterlist / Taglist / Requests: Open

Savior 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / ?

You recline on a couch in Aemond’s apartments as you sigh heavily. You push back your braids and run your fingers through your loose hair trying to relieve some stress. Aemond is at the door whispering with a servant trying to not disturb you.

After everything you had been through you could not believe that your mother would not hear you out. You want to think that she is sincere in her wishes to not sustain your house’s tradition, but you know that she just wants to fulfill Aegon’s wishes before she even follows her own personal desires.

It did not always use to be like this you think. You remember a time when she treated you like children instead of pawns but it was so long ago and is now faint in your memories. Even though it had been years since Aemond had been injured she was worried that everything was a threat to her family, her power. You sit wishing for peace, for love, and just maybe to have your family back to how it was.

Aemond taps the end of your shoe lightly, “Thinking of something?”

You smile, “Nothing achievable.”

“I know everything seems out of reach right now, but I had something brought up that might cheer you up.” He says softly.

Everything did feel out of reach. It is true, but you did not know what could possibly make you feel better. Aemond holds up a pair of your fur lined slippers. He had gifted this particular set to you two winters back when it had been particularly cold in the castle and Aegon had some servants steal all your shoes so that you would have to walk on the freezing stone. Ever since they had been your favorite shoes to wear and sometimes you would even sneak them to events when it became chilly.

“You remembered?” You say tenderly.

Aemond laughs a bit, “Of course I remember, I was the one who had them made.”

He hands them to you. You sit up to slip them on. There is a pause. The queen’s decision still hangs in the air. Aemond is tense.

“So, what do we do now?” You ask.

“It might be easier to commit treason then worm our way out of mother’s scheming.” He retorts.

“Scheming?” You question, “I mean she may be proactive, but I highly doubt she is already weaving up something. We left her only a short while ago.”

He smiles and holds up a coin. It glints in the light.

“Servants will often bend easy for gold.” He says coolly, “She has already arranged for a private dinner this evening with Larys Strong.”

A frustrated cry escapes you. You seem to have the world at your finger tips and yet you may as well be a caged animal, never to escape from your stone prison. There is a light knock on the door and a serving girl peeks her head in.

“I’ve brought the hot tea you requested, your grace.” She squeaks out.

Aemond waves for her to come in. She moves in a hurried manner and sets the tray on the table in front of you two.

“Would you like me to serve it?” She asks.

“No, this is fine,” You reply.

She walks out of the room with short quick strides. You note her nervousness, but chalk it up to a bad experience she most likely had with Aegon. She is a fleeting kindred spirit.

“I have a plan.” Aemond states, “We marry in secret.”

You take the tea and poor it in to your cup. Lifting it to your lips and letting the steam waft the deep scent up your nose. You feel your senses stir as you drink.

“That is not a plan, merely a goal.” You quip, “How do you propose we should achieve it.”

“If mother won’t take us seriously, someone else must take our side.” He says, “We we’ll send a raven to Rhaenyra and Daemon about our intentions, and join their side if need be.”

Shock reaches across your face. You had never thought of betrayal as a way out. You were so focused on keeping yourself together for the sake of your family that you had not considered making an enemy out of them. You feel a spark of energy and excitement move through your body.

“Let us send two ravens, I will send one to Rhaenyra and you to Daemon, surely if we both ask they will heed our pleas.” You say.

You know it is a long shot, even your own mother would not listen, but if there was even a chance that Rhaenyra will hear your pleas you had to take it. Previous slights made by Aemond against her children will make the situation harder, but you hope that she hates the Queen more than she does Aemond.

He looks at you then too his desk and fetches a piece of paper, pens, and ink. Without saying a word, he rips the paper into two long pieces, handing one to you. You both dip your quills in ink and begin writing out your messages. You fit as much pleasantry as you can with in the edges of the scroll, while begging for their help.

Your head hangs practically in your lap and your eyes stare into the dark reflection across the pool of tea. Aemond rests his hand on your shoulder. He draws a breath in.

“There is something I must ask.” He says solemnly.

“What is it?” You question.

“Well, I suppose I have not formally asked for your hand in marriage.” He replies.

“I suppose you have not.” You quip.

Aemond uses his hands to gently turn you, so that you are facing him head on.

“Will you take me as your protector from this day till our last?” He asks.

“I vow that I will.” You reply.

You both want to revel in the excitement of the moment, but your circumstances cast a grave shadow over your shared happiness. Instead, you interlace your fingers with his and sit there. You lean in to each other resting your foreheads against one another. You say nothing to each other and just listen to each other’s soft breaths.

Taglist: @ultarviolence @somemydayy @afro-hispwriter @severewobblerlightdragon @themology @flyingmushroomss @sinlist @isabel2you

#HOTD #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #hotd x reader #aemond one eye

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thecuriousquest · 10 months

Text

Leave or Stay

Yandere Naruto x Reader

Tag List: @issamomma

Warnings: Yandere themes are light, sickness, implied kidnapping

Summary: Having studied plants, herbs, and medicine since you were little in Iwagakure, what will you do when Naruto gets sick?

Checkout my Master List here.

—————————————————————————

Being a light sleeper, your eyes open wearily at the sound of hacking. You sit up and yawn, taking in the dark surroundings of the apartment in the early morning. It must be six am by the looks of things.

You’re alerted by the sound again, and you look to your left to see your blonde captor ball his fist up to his mouth, coughing vigorously. His body is shaking with tremors. You turn on a light and watch him for a moment, taking in what’s going on as your brain is still trying to wake up.

He looks terrible. His face is pale, brow lined with sweat. Immediately, you can’t help but look at the door. It would be the perfect opportunity to escape. It might be your only chance. Every other time you’ve tried to fight him and run away, he has used multiple jutsus on you plus Sage Mode. How the hell are you supposed to compete with him when he uses Sage Mode?!

“Naruto?” You ask hesitantly.

He doesn’t respond to you. He tries to bury himself deeper in the blankets to consume as much warmth as he can.

You rub your arm uncomfortably. You want your feet to move so badly. The door is right there! However…he looks so pale and pathetic. You don’t know if you could just leave him like this. What if he were to die? That would be on you.

It pains you deep within your stomach to do what you’re about to do.

———

You return from the kitchen with a glass of water for him. As you help the shinobi sit up, you bring the glass of water to his lips. Naruto eyes you wearily but allows you to assist him. After all, he’d probably drop the glass with how badly his hands are shaking.

“You need to stay hydrated,” you tell him as you set the glass down on the bedside table. “Do you have any medicine in the apartment?”

“No, I don’t.” His usually raspy voice has become even rougher due to the sickness.

Frustration tinges your chest. Of course he doesn’t have any medicine. You shake your head as you go to the kitchen, searching for herbs. Herbs are your specialty. You’ve spent a long time studying them and working with plants. You know exactly what to make for a fever and cough.

Finding what you need isn’t easy, so you have no other choice but to steal his coin bag, venture outside, and get the ingredients. Sure, you could go buy some medicine that’s already been made, but you miss working with the earth. Being held captive by Naruto means that you haven’t been able to mix your own remedies or even raise a plant. It’s so good to go back out into the world.

You see people for the first time in seven months, and it’s completely refreshing to see other faces. A woman even waves to you, offering you a welcoming “hello” as you enter the store for herbs and wellness. You have the most amazing conversation with the clerk, talking about the earth’s medicine and natural remedies.

On your way back, you pass Ichiraku Ramen, and you stop and think for a second. You hear Naruto’s excited voice in your head chatting about how much he loves this place. You notice it’s about lunch time. Shrugging, you go and get him something. It’s his money anyway.

You return to the apartment with the remedies and ramen. It’s still hot, so you might as well give it to him now. You help Naruto to the table, his lunch, chopsticks, water, and a napkin all set out for him. He tugs the blanket around him tightly as he sits down.

“Can you manage the chopsticks?” You ask as you eye his trembling hands.

He gives you a look of confusion as he tries to place the chopsticks in his hands and snap at the noodles.

You stifle a giggle when he has to repeatedly attempt working with the utensils. Taking pity on him, you take the chopsticks from Naruto and help him eat.

“I’m going to make your medicine after lunch. Here, drink some more water.” You hand the jinchuriki his water, and he has an easier time grasping the glass. He gulps down a few sips before returning it to the table and slumping in his chair. He seems exhausted.

“Come on, you need to finish eating and drinking. Having something in your stomach will help you feel better.”

———

It takes a while, but he finally finishes his lunch. You take him back to bed and fluff up his pillow. He lies down and huffs before hacking so hard he coughs up phlegm. You give him a tissue to spit in before throwing it away. It doesn’t gross you out in the slightest since you’re used to caring for the sick.

Naruto looks up at you as you sit on the bed, mixing the herbs for his illness.

“Why?”

You look at him inquisitively. “Why what?”

“Why are you being so nice to me? All you ever do is fight me and try to run away. Why did you come back just to take care of me? You could have gone back to Iwagakure.”

“You’re right, I could have. I guess seeing you sick reminded me of something my grandmother once told me. ‘Help those in need even if there is nothing to gain from it.’ She was a very wise woman. She died when I was ten, and I really miss her.”

Naruto can sense your sadness, and he reaches for your arm. You don’t flinch this time under his touch, in fact, you welcome it. You haven’t spoken of your grandmother in so long, and to be comforted by someone while you do it makes you feel better in a way.

“Your grandmother sounded like an amazing woman.”

A single tear gathers in your eye, one that you quickly wipe away as you nod. You return to crushing and mixing the herbs with your pestle and mortar. You make him a tea, and he drinks the bitterness without complaint. There is no room for complaining even though he’s sick and he wants to twist his face from how awful the tea is. He’s just so happy that you came back for him.

“I know it’s not the greatest tea in the world, but it’ll help you feel better. Your cough will probably be gone by tomorrow,” you tell him as you clean up the area.

“Are you…going to stay with me until I get better?” He asks, holding onto a stray thread of hope.

Running your fingers through his spiky blonde locks, you nod. “Of course. Get some rest.”

———

Naruto is able to stand on his own three days later. His cough and fever are completely gone, and his body is no longer filled to the brim with exhaustion.

You sit on the bed and look up at him. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Naruto.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Y/N! Thank you so much. You know, I’ve been thinking about something.” He seems to stop on that thought.

“What is it?” You pry, trying to get the information out of him.

“Well, I was thinking about taking you back home. It’s just…what you did for me. You didn’t have to do that. It sucks being so alone. I shouldn’t have taken you, though. We can go back to Iwagakure today if you’d like.”

The thought of leaving hasn’t crossed your mind since you first found Naruto ill in his bed. Usually, escaping is the only thing on your mind, but you haven’t even had the slightest thought of it for days now. Standing up, you walk over to him, placing your hand on his chest.

“What you just said now really shows your true character, but it’s like you said. Being alone sucks. There’s nothing for me back in Iwagakure except a medicinal shop nobody goes to and an apartment full of old books. After my grandmother passed, I had no one. We’re kind of in the same boat, Naruto. Maybe, if you let me have some freedoms, like going outside or working with plants again, I would be more inclined to stick around.”

“Really? You mean that?!”

You offer him a nod and a smile. “Yes, I mean it.”

Naruto picks you up in a hug and spins you around. “Thank you. I’ll definitely do better! I promise.” He grabs your hand and pulls you outside.

“Wait! My shoes!”

Instead of verbally responding, he picks you up in his arms and runs with you. You can’t help but laugh at how wide he’s grinning.

Maybe, this will work. Maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay.

#naruto shippuden #yandere #naruto uzumaki #yandere naruto #yandere naruto uzumaki #yandere naruto uzumaki x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x willing reader

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cuffmeinblack · 10 months

Text

Friendly competition

Garreth Weasley x Sebastian Sallow x Leander Prewett

5k words

Accompanying audio | ao3 link

A/n: This started with a dumb idea and badly edited picture, then @xantineverdoer ruined my life by sliding smut into my ask box and I produced whatever the fuck this is. Thank you for the coin flip idea. Also tied this into this week's Weasley Wednesday prompt: Quidditch!

Garreth was used to Sebastian's smug attitude, particularly in the case of friendly (or not) competition. The Slytherin had always been cocky, self-satisfied, insufferable in some regards, but he usually had a reason to be. Talented in more ways than one, Sebastian's confidence also extended to the bedroom—something Garreth had found out the previous year after far too much firewhiskey and a particularly ferocious Quidditch match.

He'd been sick to death of the brunet's endless gloating and intoxicated flirting, pinning him to the stands and finding out that Sebastian was quite the vocal partner as he whined underneath Garreth's touch with little care for who might hear. Garreth hadn't expected him to be so submissive; though he fought back endlessly and riled Garreth up to no end, in the end he always found himself obeying once Garreth's cock was buried in the boy's arse. Fucking Sebastian Sallow had become a favourite pastime, and the Slytherin appeared to be utterly insatiable in that regard.

Usually after a particularly fraught training session, Garreth would unwind by paying Sebastian a visit, until he found that the Slytherin had started waiting in the stands, watching him fly. There was nothing like aggressively hitting a bludger around to get the blood pumping and adrenaline rushing, except fucking Sebastian afterwards. Garreth started appearing as the Slytherin team trained, drawing curious glances from the green-clad students around him and a knowing smirk from the chestnut-haired boy flying around the pitch. Sebastian was a beater too, and the sight of him swinging his bat around never failed to get Garreth in the mood—he was pretty sure Sebastian added the loud grunts and ruffling of his hair for Garreth's benefit.

What he hadn't expected to see that particular Sunday morning as he settled into the hard wooden bench, was Leander Prewett approaching with a confused expression.

"Alright, Leander? What brings you here?"

"Just fancied watching a bit of Quidditch," he replied with a shrug.

"They're doing drills," Garreth said, quirking an eyebrow.

"Right. Er, why are you here?"

"Scoping out the competition."

Leander grunted, returning his attention to the Slytherin team now mounting their brooms. Garreth knew he was lying, but didn't understand why until he started to follow his gaze. He was watching the same person Garreth had his eyes fixed upon; the fluffy-haired brunet currently pelting bludgers across the pitch to his teammate. It wasn't merely a quick glance, but an intense stare at the boy that was obvious to anyone who was paying even the slightest bit of attention.

"Why are you watching Sallow?"

"What is this, twenty questions?" Leander huffed, turning a gentle shade of pink across his freckled cheeks.

"Do you fancy him?"

"What? No!"

"Seems like you do," Garreth teased.

Leander turned to Garreth, shuffling along the bench towards him and lowering his voice.

"Don't you dare say anything. I mean it, Garreth."

"Merlin's beard, you do!"

"We've been…fooling around with each other for a while."

Garreth's stomach dropped and mouth hung open stupidly at his admission, whilst his friend looked at him uncomfortably, obviously disappointed by his reaction.

"You and…Sallow?"

"Yeah, is that a problem?" Leander replied, defensiveness flaring.

"Well..."

"Never thought you were the bigoted type, Garreth…"

"Gods, shutup, will you? I…I'm shocked because I've been…fooling around with him, too."

"What?!"

Leander's exclamation drew the attention of several of the spectators surrounding them, their patience for the Gryffindor interlopers clearly wearing thin. Garreth shushed his friend quietly, casting a furtive glance around before landing on Sebastian. Far from being concentrated on his practice, he was watching Garreth (or were his eyes fixed on Leander?) with an amused smile whilst his teammate shouted at him from across the pitch to pay attention.

"That little brat," Leander muttered.

The idea that Sebastian was sleeping around shouldn't have shocked Garreth, but it did bother him slightly. The way the Slytherin flirted incessantly, he was bound to have used it on other unsuspecting victims in order to get his dick wet, but never in a hundred years would Garreth had guessed his best friend would be swayed by him. Of course, Sebastian was gorgeous, physically fit, and had the most perfect little arse, but Leander hated the boy. Perhaps that rippling tension and unresolved hatred was what had drawn them together in the first place.

"I think we should have a talk with him after this…," Garreth sighed.

"I think you're right."

The rest of the training session passed slowly, with Garreth trying his hardest to avoid looking at Sebastian at all, or Leander for that matter. He found himself watching Imelda and wondering if Gryffindor stood a chance against such a strong team, when a whistle blew and snapped him out of his reverie. As the Slytherins landed and filed off of the pitch with backs slapped and smiles exchanged, Garreth and Leander stood simultaneously to walk down the flights of stairs to the grassy grounds below.

They stood in awkward silence as they waited outside of the changing rooms, waiting and waiting until finally, Sebastian sauntered out. Garreth tried to remain impassive as he approached, ignoring how his damp hair from the shower fell over his freckled face, water droplets dripping down his neck and pooling above his collarbone. His mouth was suddenly dry.

"Lads," he said by way of greeting. "Come to watch me play?"

"We had an interesting conversation whilst we were," Leander said calmly.

"Oh? Do tell."

"You've been having sex with both of us?" Garreth asked, trying to keep the jealousy out of his voice.

Sebastian merely shrugged, bored with the conversation already. Garreth flushed pink, irritation building at his nonchalance. Certainly they weren't anything more than sexual partners, but he'd thought he was his only partner. Perhaps the assumption had been foolish, but the jealousy that rippled through him was very real.

"If you're going to be such a little slut, Sallow…how about you try us both at the same time?" Leander asked.

Sebastian blinked and looked at Leander before breaking into a smirk as Garreth gawped at his friend.

"Hah, likely story. I can't imagine you two daring to have your cocks out in front of each other. You'd spend the entire time bickering over who's bigger."

Refusing to take the bait (because surely he was bigger than Leander, right?), Garreth smiled cheerfully at Sebastian and nodded.

"I think that's a great idea. Tell you what, if Slytherin win the next match, you can have us both," Garreth agreed, catching Leander's surprised glance in his direction.

"And if Gryffindor win, by some miracle?" Sebastian drawled.

"You have to choose between us, for good."

Sebastian narrowed his dark eyes, gaze flicking between the two as he considered the bet. Garreth was faintly worried he'd decide not to choose him, though he didn't particularly like the idea of sharing Sebastian in either scenario either.

"Fine. You'd better decide who gets to go first," he smirked, hauling his bat over his shoulder and giving Garreth a wink.

The wink sent a surge of desire through Garreth's body, culminating in a rush of blood straight to his cock, which twitched eagerly in his trousers. Damn him. He watched Sebastian walk away with his usual swagger, casting a look back at them with another wide grin, knowing they were both ogling the view of his slightly-too-tight breeches.

"Fucking Sallow," Leander muttered.

Sebastian found Garreth a few days before their match after the Gryffindor team had been put through their paces, leaving him exhausted and in no mood for the Slytherin's antics. Of course, his lethargy didn't last long in the face of Sebastian's wandering hands and exasperating taunting. Sebastian had only just finished telling him that he'd be choosing Leander if he couldn't keep up with his energy when his words were replaced by whimpers that filled the space underneath the Quidditch stands.

He still found ways of winding Garreth up whilst his cock was buried deep inside his arse, but that was part of the fun of their rendezvous. He pushed Garreth's buttons until he snapped, forcing him to reduce Sebastian to a whining mess who could barely answer his name. The way the cocky Slytherin eventually folded to Garreth's commands was so deeply satisfying, the way those smirking lips parted for Garreth's tongue and moaned his name as he rode him was exhilarating.

Until a couple of days ago, nobody else in the world knew of their little arrangement, and Garreth was still miffed that he apparently wasn't the only one able to tame Sebastian Sallow. The thought of having his best friend join him was strange but intriguing. Garreth couldn't help but wonder what Sebastian would be like with not one, but two boys pleasuring him—what would become of those soft little whines and begging eyes? Sebastian had left him that day with a nip at his ear as Garreth squeezed his bottom, already missing his warmth.

By the time the anticipated match rolled around, tensions were high in more ways than one. Garreth had been growing more and more frustrated by the day as the stress of the match only increased his need for an outlet. All the furious pumping of his hand in the world couldn't compare to Sebastian's supple body, and the fantasies were no longer cutting it to relieve his frustration.

With a sigh, Garreth started pulling on his kit and gathering his gloves and bat into his bag. Leander appeared at his side as he finished changing, shoving his hands into his pockets with a feigned attempt at nonchalance.

"If they win…," he muttered, looking around the dormitory to check nobody was listening, "we agree not to go easy on him?"

"Goes without saying."

"You okay with this?" Leander asked.

"If they win, yes. Should be…fun to teach him a lesson," Garreth said, barely suppressing a smile.

Leander chuckled and slapped him on the back, sending a ripple through his body. Gods, he hadn't considered actually being naked with Leander as part of the deal. He'd thought about it, but what would it really be like to touch his best friend's bare skin, to see his uncovered frame and watch him fuck the boy he'd been sleeping with for months? If he were truthful, the images he conjured of Sebastian being violated by both of them set his pulse racing and blood rushing straight to where was entirely inappropriate at that moment.

Garreth shoved the thoughts to the back of his mind as he steeled himself, giving Leander a final nod before leaving the room with his belongings. The walk down to the stands flew by and as he tore himself away from his distractions, he was clutching his broom and bat and readying himself to walk out onto the pitch in front of hundreds of people. The roar from the crowd was almost overwhelming, and the rest of his team looked terrified.

Once out onto the lush grass, Garreth mounted his broom as the captains met in the middle of the pitch to shake hands under the glare of Madam Kogawa. His eyes drifted over the swathes of supporters and then down to the Slytherin team gathered opposite. Sebastian was already hovering a few inches above the ground, twirling his bat in his hand and staring at Garreth. A knot twisted in his stomach as he watched his dark eyes and dipped head, perhaps indicative of intimidation to anyone watching, but clearly meant to entice Garreth. He knew then that Sebastian needed that smirk wiped off his face once and for all. Slytherin needed to win.

By all accounts, Slytherin should have secured an easy victory, but by some cruel twist of fate, the one time Garreth wanted his team to lose, they were playing absolutely fantastically. The match was fast, furious and the lead razor thin by an hour in, with Gryffindor ten points up and Garreth growing increasingly frustrated. He’d been thinking about a particularly heated evening spent in the boathouse with Sebastian a few weeks ago, when his peripheral vision caught a brown blur heading towards him and he collided his bat with the bludger just in time, hitting it halfway down the pitch.

“Careful, Weasley. I wouldn’t want you to mess up that pretty face.”

Garreth turned to see Sebastian fly past with a devilish grin aimed his way before shooting off after the offending bludger. Annoyed that the comment had made him flustered, Garreth flew in the opposite direction, hunting down the other ball. He spotted it not too far away, hurtling towards his teammate who was hovering near the goalposts. With a muttered expletive, he was on its tail as the crowds roared around him and the commentator appeared to be going wild—someone was after the snitch. Garreth tuned his hearing into the amplified voice and listened, his head whipping around to see the Gryffindor seeker chasing down the tiny gold ball with his counterpart still seconds behind.

Shit. Gryffindor were going to win.

Garreth had merely half a second of blind panic, his selfish desires overtaking all rational thought as he aimed the bludger and pelted it towards his teammate. His eyes bulged as he realised what he’d done, hoping to Merlin nobody had noticed his deliberate aim. The ball missed by a margin, but distracted the seeker long enough to veer him off course and allow his Slytherin counterpart to catch up.

The rest was history. In a blur of green, the pitch was swarmed with supporters for the winning team as Garreth and the rest of his team were left dumbfounded. There’d be time to contemplate what the hell he’d done later, as well as wallow in guilt, but for now, Garreth was keen to get out of the crowds—he had a bet to collect on.

Garreth took his time in the shower, cleaning everywhere and waiting for the last of his team to file out, trudging back to Gryffindor tower to wallow in defeat. He was squeaky and smelled of pine by the time he crossed the stands into the opposing team's changing rooms, finding them empty except for Sebastian leaning casually against the wall. His eyes flicked over Garreth as he walked in, a look of smug satisfaction across his face.

"Congratulations," Garreth said with a smile.

"Did you purposely attack your own teammate just so you can both fuck me, Weasley?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

His own gaze ran over the boy in front of him, still wet from the shower, flushed and enticing. Garreth was practically salivating at the thought of getting his hands on him as he strode towards him with a predatory glare. Before be could pounce, he was interrupted by Leander's entrance. The three of them stood in the changing room, looking at each other and waiting for someone to initiate.

"So, who's going first?" Garreth asked his friend.

Leander hummed before he rifled through his pockets, producing a silver sickle.

"Heads, I go first?"

Garreth nodded as Sebastian just watched the exchange.

"Tails."

"Thank fuck for that," Garreth sighed, barely able to contain his pent up frustration.

"Come here, princess," Leander grinned, holding out a hand to the brunet.

"Fuck off," Sebastian spat back, but he did as he was told, walking into Leander's open arms.

Garreth found himself watching, fascinated but utterly fucking furious at the display, as Sebastian pulled the taller boy by the tie and swiped his tongue over Leander's lips, all whilst keeping his dark brown eyes trained on Garreth. He closed the distance in a flash, snaking his hands around Sebastian's waist and pressing himself against his back, the moan that left the Slytherin's lips captured by Leander's mouth.

Garreth dipped his head, lips finding the still damp skin at Sebastian's neck as he slid his hands to his waistband, following the thick hair that trailed his chest and abdomen. Licking and nipping at the sensitive spot behind his ear that Garreth knew all too well, Sebastian arched his back, pressing his behind into Garreth's waiting crotch. His erection was already growing steadily and Sebastian was more than eager to tease it with a rhythmic rocking of his hips.

"Like that, Weasley?"

"I'll like it even better when it's buried in your tight little arse," Garreth whispered into his ear.

Sebastian whined and shuddered at the tease as Leander grew impatient with the distraction, swatting Garreth's hands out of the way to grope hungrily at the bulge in Sebastian's trousers.

"You're absolutely rock hard, Sallow," Leander chuckled. "We've barely started."

Sebastian glared but didn't reply, continuing to rock his hips into Leander's hand until he unbuttoned Sebastian's trousers. The boy groaned as his stiff cock was released from the fabric into Leander's waiting hand, his other pulling Sebastian's face back towards him to claim his mouth in another hungry kiss. Running his fingers through that soft chestnut hair, Garreth resumed his attention on Sebastian's neck, biting harder with every push of his soft backside against his erection, sucking the skin with increased vigour at every muffled moan.

Sebastian's soft whines and wet slapping of his cock being tugged were delicious, Garreth's own hard length now throbbing for more attention than the restricted friction could provide. He reached down to release himself, roughly pushing down Sebastian's trousers and giving his arse a hard squeeze before his dripping cock pressed against those peachy cheeks.

Sebastian was writhing between the two friends; breath heavy, skin flushed and hands grabbing at Leander's hair, making a mess of his coiffed 'do. Garreth couldn't help the groan that clawed its way out of his throat as he held Sebastian's hips still to grind against his arse. He felt good, so good, but sounded even better. The way his composure broke down so quickly was intoxicating and Garreth longed for more of those wavering breaths and pathetic mewls…but they had an agreement.

"Remember we said I'd have him first," Garreth warned, eyes flicking to Leander over the brunet's shoulder.

"Oh you can fuck him, but we didn't specify who'd make him come first."

Garreth frowned at the technicality, but his head dizzied with possibilities of what they could do to the increasingly limp Slytherin between them.

"Would you like that? Think you can handle me pounding that tight little arse-" Garreth teased, pressing himself hard into Sebastian's behind, "-after you've spilled all over yourself?"

Sebastian responded with a desperate whine, his head lolling back onto Garreth's shoulder. He really was so beautiful when he was in the midst of pleasure, when the only sounds leaving his mouth were sinful moans rather than sarcastic jibes.

"He's absolutely fucking gone already," Leander chuckled, slowing and eventually removing the hand wrapped around Sebastian's cock.

Sebastian tried to protest but was met with another searing kiss by the towering redhead. They were so close, Garreth could smell his friend’s cologne mingling with their combined arousal and the musky scent of sweat from his lover. Garreth hummed against Sebastian's neck, running his tongue over the blotchy red mark blooming on his skin as the two boys exchanged soft moans. Garreth was about ready to start marking an enticing spot on Sebastian’s shoulder before Leander pulled out of the kiss with a glint in his eye of undisguised lust.

"On your knees.”

Sebastian panted, taking a few seconds to find his voice and realise what he’d been told to do.

"Absolutely no way, I'm not getting on that filthy tile," he spat back.

"I suppose you don't want my cock inside you, then?” Garreth remarked from behind him, taking his length in his hand and guiding himself between Sebastian’s cheeks. “Shame."

The Slytherin gave a tiny shudder of arousal, putting up only a small protest when Leander sat on the bench behind him, pushing Sebastian to the floor by his shoulder. Garreth watched him kneeling between Leander’s legs on the hard floor, completely bare and cock weeping as his face was guided towards the redhead’s waiting member.

The view was utterly obscene—Garreth was so entranced he barely noticed that he was lazily stroking himself as he watched Sebastian sucking his friend’s cock. He was so eager. Who knew anyone could make that much noise whilst their mouth was so stuffed full? Delicious moans, groans and gasps escaped his throat, muffled but still loud enough to fill the room and echo off the tiled walls. Leander’s eyes were fixed downward as his hand gripped the chestnut hair in front of him, completely absorbed in Sebastian’s performance.

"Fuck. Arse up, Sallow.”

Sebastian tried to smirk around the cock in his mouth; not entirely successfully but Garreth got the idea. Kneeling down behind him, Garreth lifted his behind off of his feet, pushing the boy forward as he stumbled and gripped Leander’s thighs for support. The muffled complaint was cut short when Sebastian’s cheeks were parted and Garreth’s tongue swiped over his entrance. Fuck, this was uncomfortable, but needs must.

Garreth closed his eyes and allowed himself to be completely absorbed in Sebastian’s dulled moans and the wet slurping from his mouth. Every flick of Garreth’s tongue made him gasp and keen, much to the frustration of Leander who growled his frustration as Garreth tried to suppress a grin. The Slytherin particularly liked it when Garreth circled his hole before plunging the tip of his tongue inside, the pitch of his whines increasing a whole octave each time he did.

The dull throb of Garreth’s cock grew in intensity with every salacious noise from Sebastian until he couldn’t handle anymore waiting. He was crazed with desire, the pain in his knees nothing compared to the head-spinning arousal that threatened to overwhelm him. A final, firm swipe of his tongue and he retreated, groping in his pocket for his wand with shaking hands and muttering the charm to coat his fingers in a slippery liquid.

“N-not yet. I still want to make this one come,” Leander said, still tugging on Sebastian’s hair as the brunet’s head bobbed up and down.

Garreth swore from frustration, reaching around to spread the lubricant on Sebastian's stiff and twitching cock as Leander pushed him off his lap with a pop and a groan and into Garreth's waiting lap. He was already so pliant, limp and writhing on top of Garreth as he stroked the brunet's girthy length—his bare arse rubbed Garreth's painfully neglected erection with every tug of his hand and their combined loud moans reverberated off the walls and filled his ears.

"Are you going to come all over yourself?" Leander asked through the noise, his hands gripping the twitching boy's thighs and fondling his tight balls.

"Y-yeah…"

The snarky façade was crumbling, revealing Sebastian's pure desperation to be toyed with. He was close, the noises he made bordering on hysterical as his hands made a pathetic attempt at controlling Leander's head. Garreth watched over a freckled shoulder, the ginger head dipped against Sebastian's muscular thighs now peppered with teeth marks and blooming red marks across the tender skin.

"Fucking…faster…"

"Say please," Garreth responded to the whiny demand.

"Please."

Garreth picked up the pace, only a few strokes needed to send Sebastian over the edge with a shuddering moan, spilling his load all over his stomach and Garreth's hand. Garreth muttered praises in Sebastian's ear as he rode out his orgasm, the last dribble of cum barely leaving the boy's cock before Garreth pulled his hand away—he was so fucking ready he could barely think.

"Gods, you're a fucking mess, Sallow," Leander's far away voice said.

Sebastian was already off of his lap, Garreth getting shakily to his feet and wincing at the pain from the hard floor. Undeterred, he gave Leander a sharp look before speaking.

"Help me get him up, I'll probably need you to take his weight."

Garreth had no intention of fucking him on the tiled floor. Sebastian was already getting to his feet, his dark eyes boring into Garreth's skull as he drank him in, diverted as soon as Leander parted his swollen lips with his tongue. Sebastian was but an inch shorter than Garreth, strong and well-built but he looked positively tiny next to Leander, who towered over the both of them with his lean muscular form. He'd have time to wonder why the sight was so riveting later; for now, Garreth's fingers were busy stretching that tight little hole he craved so much.

He'd been right that he'd need Leander's help. As soon as he'd started stroking and circling the soft pad inside Sebastian, the boy was a mess. His legs shook and desperate mewls left his mouth, falling against Leander's plush lips that were turned up in an amused smile. Garreth was three fingers in, Sebastian's entrance stretched so well for him, relaxed and ready.

"Think you can handle all of me?" Garreth asked, already withdrawing his fingers.

"Shutup and fuck me."

Apparently he still had a fucking mouth on him. Any intention of going slowly died with Sebastian's taunt as Garreth lined up his swollen, dripping head with his entrance and pushed inside. The smirking Slytherin collapsed into Leander's chest as Garreth stretched him steadily, until his groin was flush with the soft flesh of Sebastian's behind.

"Come on princess, this is what you wanted wasn't it?"

Leander was busy whispering against Sebastian's parted lips as Garreth looped his arms around Sebastian's, pulling them behind him and linking his hands. Sebastian's back arched into the hold, groaning as he was manhandled just the way he liked.

Sweet relief and absolute ecstasy flooded Garreth's body the moment he started to rock his hips, his eyes diverting downward to watch his cock impaling his lover's arse between those soft cheeks. He'd have time later to grab the flesh and mark him up prettily, but all that Garreth wanted, and could manage to do, was grind against them with increasing vigour. He felt incredible—tight, warm and wet, his walls enveloping Garreth's cock so perfectly and teasing every last drop of frustration out of him.

"So…fucking good…," Garreth gasped.

Sebastian merely whined in response, his flushed face pressed against Leander's shoulder and eyes rolling back into his head. The taller boy stroked his freckled cheek and teased his lips with a thumb, all whilst he laziky stroked his own cock, waiting for his turn.

"What's my name?" Leander asked the Slytherin.

"Uh- fucking…Prewett…"

"Fuck him harder, he's still lucid," Leander chuckled, his brown eyes meeting Garreth's and sending an unexpected shiver of arousal up his spine.

Garreth growled with lustful want, tightening the hold on Sebastian's arms and angling him down, his back arching as Garreth picked up the pace. Their combined moans were deafening and as Garreth spotted a stray tear rolling down Sebastian's cheek, he lost it. He couldn't have stopped if he'd tried, his orgasm coming so suddenly he barely had time to pull out of Sebastian before his ropes of cum spilled all over the heated skin of his back. Garreth threw his head back, gasping for breath as the waves of pleasure ripped through him, cock pulsing against the brunet's soft cheeks as the last of his release dribbled from the tip.

"You're mine, Sallow."

The command was met with a tug from Leander, breaking Sebastian free from his loosened grip around his arms as he was guided backwards to the bench. Leander sat down, spinning Sebastian around to ogle the view, planting kisses on his lower back as his fingers teased his opening.

"You want more?"

"Y-yeah…"

Leander pulled the brunet down into his lap, his cock sliding into his already stretched hole with ease. Garreth made his way to the pair in a trance, running his fingers through the soft chestnut locks as he tilted his head instinctively up to him. Finally, Garreth kissed him, those sweet lips tasting of sweat, a hint of Leander but still overwhelmingly Sebastian. He gripped him tightly as Leander started to thrust up into him, the Slytherin too fucked to be able to do much himself except moan into Garreth's mouth.

Garreth steadied himself with a knee on the bench, his strong arms wrapped around Sebastian's back as he shuddered through the pounding from below. The sounds he made were so sinful; whines, gasps, expletives; an incoherent string of noise against Garreth's lips that sounded like the sweetest music, so satisfying to hear.

"Are you going to come again?" Garreth whispered.

"Uh- uhhuh…"

"Fucking hell…," Leander muttered, approaching his peak.

Garreth wiped another tear from Sebastian's eye as he kissed him again before telling him what he wanted to hear.

"Good boy."

Sebastian fell apart, pulling Leander right along with him over the edge. They collapsed backwards onto the hard wooden bench, wrenching Sebastian away from Garreth's grip as Leander continued his rhythmic pounding with the boy on top of him, writhing and overwhelmed. Sebastian gripped the wood, arms, legs, anything he could reach as his body convulsed and all Garreth could do was watch and paw at the brunet's thighs as they came down off their highs, completely awestruck.

"Fuck…s-stop…," Sebastian managed to eek out, squirming in Leander's tight grip.

Leander gave him a final thrust before pulling out, cum spilling on his legs and splattering on the floor. Sebastian could hardly move, but managed to lift himself off of Leander and into Garreth's waiting arms, head lolling onto his shoulder. He'd realise in a minute what he was doing, and the cocky brat would return, but for now Garreth enjoyed the exhausted and thoroughly ruined boy bundled in his arms.

"Slytherin might have won the match but I think I'm going to claim a Gryffindor victory," Garreth sighed, stroking Sebastian's hair.

Leander laughed and held his hand up for a high-five, the ridiculous gesture only making Garreth's grin wider.

"Thank fuck he's finally stopped talking."

#garreth weasley #sebastian sallow #leander prewett #garreth weasley x sebastian sallow x leander prewett #weaslow #sebastian sallow smut #garreth weasley smut #leander prewett smut #prewlow

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saintmagx · 1 month

Text

I Knew You were Trouble ❤️‍🔥

Part 4

Pairing: Jimmy Uso × reader

AN: if you would like tagged let me know 💕 No specific timeline

❗️❗️Warnings: 18+, swearing, violence (this is the WWE after all) slight smut, infidelity, jealous Jimmy, bad writing, cringe story telling, the Usos (because they are a warning in themselves)❗️❗️

I’m sooooo sorry this took as long to get out, I kinda took a break but I’m back and so is our boy Jon 🥵 hope this was worth the wait 🫣

Day one - Rome, Italy

One of my favourite things about being a WWE superstar is getting the opportunity to travel the world. Because of my job I’ve been in more places that I could have ever imagined and made memories that will last a lifetime. Today we are in one of my favourite places, Rome.

One of my least favourite things about being a WWE superstar though was definitely the travel and itinerary- I get to a new place and don’t have time to see all the sights. its airport, hotel, gym, meet and greets, arena, match, then on the road again.

hey, wanna sneak out and do something fun before the meet and greet?

Josh

what you have in mind?

authentic Italian ice cream? Pizza? Your treat obviously 🤪

Josh

damn, you really want me to treat you after the way you been disrespecting me 😨

fine 🙄 I’ll ask Jon instead - lil bitch

Josh

WAIT

FINE

Meet me in the lobby in 5.

I wasn’t really going to ask Jon, I mean how could I? This whole trip I have to try and avoid him, however I feel like fate has other plans, I was informed late last night that Jon and Josh would join me in doing press for the tour, doing meet and greets and TV appearances to get everyone hyped up for the shows. As long as we aren’t alone together nothing would happen…….right?

One thing I wanted to tick off my bucket list when visiting Rome was going to the Trevi Fountain. Seeing it there in front of me took my breath away, the beauty it holds, the history and traditions. Ugh to have this on my doorstep every day would be a dream. We had found a small gelato shop near the fountain and decided to find a place to sit near by the fountain.

“Okay, fine I’ll admit it, the gelato was a good idea.”

“Of course it was a good idea Josh, are you doubting me and my choices?”

“You know damn well I don’t trust you.” He says

Acting offended I shift myself further away from him, Josh turns to look at me grinning ear to ear.

“Don’t know what you’re smiling at, you’ve just bumped yourself down the list of what Fatu brother I like more.”

“Well number 2 ain’t so bad.”

“Try 3”

Annoyed he reply’s “3? What you mean 3, who else you know except me and Jon!”

Realising I got him right where I want him “well Joe obviously, I’ve spoke with him a few times and he is such a sweetheart, I think he might actually be my favourite brother.”

He didn’t have a come back, he just sat there eating his gelato like a grumpy little kid. I take a few sneaky pics to send to Trin, captioned “fun with your grumpy ass brother in law.”

Josh reaches into his pocket and places two coins in front of us.

“Let’s go throw these in the fountain then.”

“Wait, how did you know I wanted to do that?”

“Cause believe it or not yn but I listen to you, you are one of my closest friends and I love ya, if there is something you wanna do you damn sure I wanna make it happen. That’s what family does.”

I couldn’t see him, my eyes were filling with tears. Never in my life have i had someone care so much. We fight like cat and dog but underneath it all there is pure love and adoration for each other.

“Okay don’t get all soppy on me” he jests. “Let’s throw our coins and get back before there is a search party.”

Grabbing my hand we walk over to the fountain and throw our coins in tradition states if you throw a coin in you are wishing that one day you will come back to Rome and with every fiber of my being i was hoping that one day i would.

“Thank you” i whisper to Josh.

“Don’t mention it, though I do hope I ain’t last on yo list anymore?”

Laughing I announce “A solid 2 for sure now.”

Another part I love about being a WWE Superstar is getting the opportunity to meet the fans. The WWE universe has the best, most intense fan base in the world.

In the store where the meet and greet was happening, It was a basic set up, a long table, a seat for each of us and a backdrop with our image plastered over it. The queue was already around the block, with a mixture of kids, teens and adults all waiting to meet us.

“I’m really nervous, this is my first international meet and greet - what if no one is here for me.” I start to panic.

Josh looks at me and in his usual joshy manner tries to make it all better “yn we know no one is here for you, and honestly you are killing the mood. Put yo big girl panties on and let’s get this over with huh?”

And just like that the mood has been lifted and he has me laughing.

“I honestly hate you J.”

Jon who had been observing finally breaks his silence. “You can sit between us, that way we can comfort you if it gets too much.” Comfort me……..

A little too eagerly I agree. The first few fans come in and just like that all my nerves and panic washed away and I was in autopilot.

“How you doin now yn? Eased into it okay?” Josh enquires

“I’m fine J, I just let my ner……”

Heat. That was the only thing I could feel. My thigh tingling under his touch, Jon’s touch.

“Yo yn, you good?” Josh looks at me concerned.

“Yep fine, just got a little cramp in my leg, feel like we have been here for hours.” I brush him off, along with moving Jon’s hand off my leg. Think of Trin, think of Trin I repeat in my head.

The last of the fans come and go, it’s been a sweet afternoon watching Jon and Josh interact with everyone, you can see the love and passion they have for this business and the fans. Maybe teaming with them on this European tour won’t be so bad after all.

Backstage WWE LIVE, Rome Italy,

The crowd had been electric all night. There is no major storylines, no characters and no set of rules to follow just purely wrestling. Our match was a mixed tag match, myself and The Uso’s v Indie, Theory and Waller. Going out and having fun with everyone and the crowd is what it’s all about, the passion the fans give in return for the show you put on makes all the travel, injuries and lack of sleep worth it.

After any of my matches I like a debrief, things I could have done better, things I did great etc, it’s how I grow and learn, however fate was having none of that tonight. Walking back to the female dressing room I felt a strong pair of hands grab my arms and pull me into a secluded corner of the arena, from the way my skin was burning at the slightest touch I knew it could only be one man - and I was in trouble.

“Have you been avoiding me all day?”

“Em, earth to Jon? We saw each other at the meet and greet.” I laugh trying to break the tension

“Oh I remember..” Edging closer to me with fire in his eyes he continues “I’ve been thinking about how nice your thigh felt, and wondered what else felt nice.”

Gulp

Think of Trin yn.

Keep it light and funny yn “Plus I was busy with Josh all morning, he took me out for some gelato - I’m a busy woman Jon.”

“Yeah, Josh told me about the gelato. Is there a reason I wasn’t invited?”

His heavy eyes stuck on mine, waiting for my answer.

“Honestly it was a last minute thing, next time I’ll make sure you get an invite.” Trying to leave his hand leans on the wall behind me enclosing us in even closer. His free hand finds its place perfectly on my hip before it starts to lower slowly, like he was trying to memorise how each part of me felt before placing his hand on my butt, grabbing onto it with his powerful grip.

“How bout we skip the gelato and i give you some of my cream.”

Fire, passion, a need for only him. That’s all I felt in that moment. It consumed me. Jon looked at me like I was the only girl on the planet.

After weeks of playing cat and mouse, he caught me. His lips finally found their way onto mine, a low moan slowly released from his mouth, like a weight had been lifted from him, his hands tracing every inch of my body. I didn’t want him, I needed him and in that moment I’m what he needed too.

Tagged:

@southerngirl41

@missfamilyjeweles

@jeyusos-girl

@christinabae

@jeyusosgirl

@raya-hunter01

@harlem11680

@theogsamoanqueen

@harmshake

@alyyaanna

@smile1318

@jeysbae

@kumapassion

@yana3sworld

@wrestlingprincess80

#wwe fanfiction #jimmy uso fanfiction #jimmy uso smut #jimmy uso x reader #wwe x reader #wweedit #jimmy uso #jimmy uso x yn #jimmy uso x you #wwe imagine

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ghostinthelibrarywrites · 1 year

Note

If you still want prompts, how about 2 for Geraskier? 💚💕

2. A casual touch on the shoulder to acknowledge them

Jaskier is sitting by the campfire, hunched over his lute as he mulls over a particularly tricky lyric, when he’s startled by the unexpected feeling of a hand brushing his shoulder. With a shriek, he startles and drops his lute. It’s not until a hand snaps out and seizes his lute before it can crash to the ground that he realizes that it’s not some ruffian who’s snuck up on him while he’s composing, but Geralt.

“Geralt!” Jaskier claps a hand over his chest. “You just scared the shit out of me! I didn’t know it was you!”

Holding Jaskier’s lute in one hand and an apple in the other, Geralt looks at him blankly. “Who else would it have been?”

“I don’t know! That’s why I was scared shitless.” Jaskier doesn’t point out that in the months they’ve been traveling together, Geralt has touched him a grand total of three times. Once was the punch that Jaskier can fully admit that he deserved. The second time was when he grabbed Jaskier’s arm to drag him away from a drowner who was about to snatch him while he bathed. The third time was to press a damp cloth over a gash in Jaskier’s arm left by a griffin. All three times, the contact was brief and businesslike, lasting mere seconds.

Jaskier gets the impression that Geralt doesn’t like being touched, which has been an adjustment. He’s used to exchanging casual touches with his friends and family—kissing his mother and sisters on the foreheads, picking up his nieces and nephews and spinning them around, throwing an arm around Essi’s shoulders, leaning against Valdo while they sit together. But every time Jaskier forgets himself and claps a hand on Geralt’s shoulder or picks a bit of grave hag out of his hair, the witcher looks like he’s just swallowed something sour.

Geralt snorts and holds out the apple. “Here. Your stomach has been growling for an hour.”

“Oh.” Jaskier blinks and takes the apple. Now that he’s not entirely focused on his composition, a new version of Toss a Coin recounting Geralt’s heroic defeat of a wyvern, he can feel the hollowness of hunger in his belly. “Thank you, Geralt. That’s… very thoughtful.”

“Hm. All the rumbling is disturbing my meditating.”

“And me playing the lute isn’t?”

“Getting fucking used to that,” Geralt grumbles, handing Jaskier his lute, and turns away.

Jaskier finds himself grinning at Geralt’s back. “Does that mean you’re starting to like my music?”

All that gets him is another grumble, but Jaskier’s spirits aren’t dampened. Because this is the first time that Geralt has ever touched him just to touch him. It wasn’t much, just a simple hand on his shoulder. It certainly wasn’t the myriad ways he’s guiltily fantasized about Geralt touching him over the last few months. But it’s still the first sign the witcher has given that he’s starting to grow comfortable in Jaskier’s company. That someday, he might even like having Jaskier around.

“Thank you, my friend,” he calls.

“Not your friend,” Geralt says, as Jaskier expected him to. Ah well, progress is progress, no matter how slow.

Jaskier takes a bite of his apple. It’s the best thing he’s tasted in a long time.

24 Touches Prompts

Tag list: @kueble @mollymawkwrites @feral-jaskier @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @dawnofbards @thisislisa @tsukiwolf42 @mosaicscale @rockysstupidity @fontegagrilledcheese @kuripon @help-i-need-a-cool-username @julek @flowercrown-bard @eveljerome @toapoet

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #ghost's writing #prompt fills

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captaincvans · 2 years

Text

Empire

Pairing: Shelby Brothers x Shelby!Sister

Summary: The Shelby brothers are ready to set the world on fire to ensure that their youngest sister would be safe.

Warnings: Nothing but fluff here! Maybe a case of creepy dude, but the Shelby brothers shut that down reals quick.

Word Count: 1.6k

Author’s Note: I have another Shelby!Reader fic in my drafts, but that might take longer to post. I'm still debating to have multiple parts or whether I just want to post one long fic.

The Shelby brothers made their way to the market with their youngest sister in tow. It was supposed to be a more pleasant visit, hence why the brothers thought nothing to let the 7 year-old tag along with them. The little Shelby held on to Tommy’s hand, tugging at it when she saw the rows of shiny red apples that were being sold in the vendor behind the ones that her brothers were talking to.

“Tommy, I want an apple.” She tugged on his hand, pointing to the vendor. He glanced at the distance, nodding his head.

“Stay where I can see you.”

“Okay!” she nodded excitedly, running off. She stared in awe at the amount of apples, and furrowed her eyebrows in concentration to pick the best apple. She wanted to get extra apples for her family so she started picking the best ones and collecting them in her arms.

“And what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” the seller growled.

“I wanna buy 5 apples, mister!” she responded. “And Auntie Polly said that’s a bad word.”

“And where’s your money, little girl?”

“I-In my pocket.” She tried reaching for her pockets when the man grabbed her arm and slammed it on the small counter, making her drop all the apples she was holding in her small arms. She was standing on her toes, the counter being far taller than her, and the edge digging into her frail arm. “Wh-What are you doing?”

“I’ve known little thieves like you to be a liar as well.”

“I’m not a thief!” She took out her little bag of coins. “S-See? I have the money!”

He took the bag, grinning at the contents before pocketing it. “Girl’s got money, eh? You probably stole them from some poor lad and I hate thieves more than anything.” He slowly pulled out a butcher knife, ignoring her whimpers.

“N-No- please! I wasn’t gonna steal anything- I s-swear!”

“Yea you won’t be stealing anymore with one hand-”

“TOMMY! Tommy- Help!” The girl could only scream for her big brother, squirming away from his grip.

The Shelby brothers whipped their head at the source of the screams, their eyes widening at the sight of their baby sister being held like a criminal with a man about to bring down a knife to her pure, untouched skin. They all ran, and if it wasn’t for their sister’s close proximity to the man, they would’ve already shot him dead.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Tommy asked, his voice eerily calm.

“M-Mr. Shelby- I- I didn’t know she was-” The man held up his arms, dropping his knife and trying to not aggravate the pissed-off man in front of him.

“T-Tommy,” the little Shelby cried, running up to her big brother. Arthur and John had already made their way inside the vendor, grabbing the man to make sure he wouldn’t do anything else. Tommy picked her up, eyes narrowing at the man as he felt her shake in his arms.

“Tell me what happened, love.” He pulled his head back as she instinctively tried to wrap her arms around them and burrows her head in the crook of his neck. He grabbed her right arm, scanning the rest of her body for injuries as she talked and noting the scratches she got from trying to pry her arm away from the man’s grip.

“I-I wanted to buy a few apples for us, b-but the man said I was trying to steal. I gave him my horsey purse but he wouldn’t believe me!” Arthur patted the man down in search for the little bag and threw it to Tommy’s ready hand.

“Right, then.” He picked up a nice apple, handing it to her, and walking away. He adjusted his grip on her so that he was carrying her more like a baby as he knew the second they turned away, Arthur and John would make quick work of that man.

“I-I was so-so scared, Tommy,” she sobbed. Her little hands, wiping away the tears that couldn’t seem to stop falling.

“It’s okay, love. I won’t let anything happen to you, okay?”

“He wanted to cut my hand off!” she exclaimed, sobbing even more.

Tommy was seething in anger, wanting nothing more than to kill the man who would expose his baby sister to the dangerous world that he worked so hard to protect her from. Alas, he knew she needed her older brother and not the ruthless leader of the Peaky Blinder. “You know we would never let that happen, love. They would have to go through all of us before even touching a hair on your head.”

They made their way to their home, Tommy giving the apple to one of the maids with instructions to clean it up and slice them for Y/N, and to get Polly. He took her to the kitchen, putting her on the table. He gently took her arm, assessing the damage .

“Hurts,” she mumbled, her sobs quieting down to a whimper.

“Polly’ll take care of it.” He rubbed her back comfortingly, leaning down to give her forehead a kiss.

“What’s going on here?” Polly asked, gasping at the sight of Y/N’s arm and her teary eyes. “Oh my poor girl. What happened to you?”

“A mean man tried to cut my hand off, Aunt Polly! I was so scared!” she wailed, lifting her arms and wanting to be comforted.

The older woman and Tommy shared a look one that said it was being taken care of at the moment. Tommy took her in his arms, sitting down on the table as Polly took the other seat with an emergency kit with her. The little Shelby tried being strong while her Aunt cleaned up the wound, making sure there wasn’t any splinters before wrapping it up.

“There you go, darling. All cleaned up and better. There’s nothing we can do about bruises but they will go away eventually.”

“Okay” she said quietly. “Thank you, Aunt Polly.” She fell back against Tommy’s chest, the adrenaline was fading and she could barely keep her eyes open. “Thank you, Tommy… for saving me.”

“You never have to thank me for that.” Tommy spoke quietly to comfort her. “I know you’re tired, love, but you gotta eat something.” It was past the time Y/N should be eating breakfast as they were supposed to buy fresh fruits for her breakfast in the morning. He motioned for one of the kitchen staff to place the plate in front of them.

“Okay.”

Tommy pulled the plate closer to her so she could easily reach for the apples from his lap. He rested his chin lightly on her head, placing small kisses here and there to comfort her. He heard the front door open and waited for the inevitable loud entrance his brothers were going to make.

“He’s taken care of,” Arthur said in his signature gravelly voice. “He’s never gonna bother her again.”

“How are you, love?” John asked, looking at the bandage on her arm.

She shrugged her shoulders, eating another slice of apple. It didn’t take her long to finish the apple, her hunger beating out her tiredness. She cuddled closer to Tommy’s chest, the adrenaline fading and she was left with the crash. “Nap?” She looked over at her brothers and aunt for permission.

“Go sleep, darling,” Tommy nodded, kissing her head once more and positioning her more comfortably on his lap.

In a few seconds she was out, and the rest of the family was left to process the events.

“Fuck,” John muttered. “I was gonna skin the man alive.”

“No more,” Tommy said decisively. “She’s never going anywhere without us anymore.”

“Agreed.” Arthur nodded his head.

“Now c’mon, boys. Your world is no place for a little child,” Polly chided.

“A child,” Tommy repeated as almost a growl. “There are too many goddamn fuckers who would have no problem hurting a child, Pol. We have to send out a message. Anyone who dares to even breathe in her direction wrong will have to deal with the Peaky fucking Blinders.” The girl in his lap shifted, and he quickly softened his voice, rocking her a bit. “It’s okay, love.”

If they didn’t know Tommy any better, it would’ve been a comical sight to see him change tune so quickly. Alas, the gang leader decided the conversation was over and carried his sister to his office. The rest of the family dispersing to their own work. The second oldest Shelby had always found comfort in having Y/N near him when he worked. She didn’t mind the occasional yelling and swearing when he was working, and instead focused on whatever was entertaining her at the moment. She was a quiet child, not as rambunctious as her older brothers Finn and John. Most of the time, she would draw or colour pictures, but as she is getting older, Polly had given her a few book to get started on her studies. He placed her on the couch, putting his jacket as a blanket on her tiny body, but before he could get very far she started whimpering and thrashing her arms around. Tommy’s heart broke witnessing his baby sister’s first nightmare, and picked her up again. He decided to keep her in his arms while he worked, ignoring the fact that he would only be able to use one hand as the other would ensure Y/N remained on his lap. He was used to having her on his lap as he worked or in family meetings when he knew she wouldn’t be exposed to their dirty world. A smile crept up on his face as he remember the days she would play with the buttons of his jacket or his pocket watch while he ran the meeting, her presence alone able to settle any tension in the room.

“Nothing will hurt you, I swear it.” Tommy was going to build an empire for his sister, and there was nothing that was going to stand in the way.

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