#this also would have fit so well for enchanted too but
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shouto todoroki x reader
word count: 2k
warnings: reader has hair that can be tucked behind their ear, reader is bullied, forced self-harm (forced to pinch their cheeks)
a/n: this is my entry for @bloompompom ‘s “to all the fictional boys I’ve loved before” writing collab!!! the rom com I chose was ‘Ella enchanted’ because I instantly knew Shouto would fit perfectly ❤️ thank you for letting me join!! i love this but I also think it is not my best work and kind of cringey 💀 this was also inspired by many kdrama cliches djsjsks
summary: you have a quirk that makes you obey every command you are given. if only there was a prince who could come save you? or better yet, help you save yourself.
You're six years old when you develop your quirk. Your parents had taken you to the doctor, scared that you were quirkless, which in turn made you scared as well. The doctor reassured them that everything seemed fine, and your quirk should develop soon. Who would have thought that being quirkless would have been better.
It happened one day in kindergarten. Your then best friend was mad at you because you didn’t want to play dodgeball, and instead wanted to sit in the sandpit. In the heat of her anger, she screeched at you to “go eat rocks!” only to be shocked whenever you stiffly got up and did just that.
Your teacher was horrified when she was dragged over by your friend to see you, with gravel filling your mouth and tears running down your cheeks. When asked why, all you could simply muster was that you had too. You ended that day with a trip to the ER, multiple cuts inside your mouth, and a broken tooth.
Looking back, your quirk probably had already developed. You were known to be a very obedient child— it just took something extreme to clue everyone in. And it would only go downhill from there.
Your parents didn’t mean to take advantage of your quirk. Normal parental comments like “eat all your vegetables” and “go clean your room” just meant that you couldn’t talk back and had to follow the commands instantly. It became a habit almost to voice their requests as demands instead of suggestions or requests. You couldn’t fault them for it really. Especially not whenever they praised your good behavior in front of others, always so proud of their perfectly behaved child. Eventually, when you stopped talking as much and began secluding yourself more to avoid the feeling of your body and mind being forced to do something, they didn’t really seem to notice.
It was a day in your last year of high school that you met Shouto. You had always noticed him of course. Your general studies class and his hero class had been keeping the same lunch time for your entire high school career. He was princely in his stoicism. Perfect face not marred by his scar, only enhanced. He moved like an elegant dancer— every move calculated and on point. It would be no surprise to anyone that you had started harboring a crush on the fellow student. Who hadn’t had a crush on him would be the better question.
Alone at your table in the corner, you’d admire Shouto and his friends at lunch. They always looked like they were so close— the whole class did to be honest. Deku and the others were the only ones who you ever saw crack that perfect facade. A tiny smile here, a barely wrinkled brow there. It was magical to watch. The prince and his court.
You were glad he had made friends. You couldn’t say the same. Try as you might, you just couldn’t keep your quirk a secret. And once one person knew, it wasn’t long until there were many people taking advantage of it. You had gotten by relatively unscathed so far. You mostly got orders to do others homework and class chores. Many afternoons it was only you left in the classroom working away without choice, trying to finish the class chores before dark.
Your only reprieve came in the home room teacher of said prince: Aizawa. He had learned of your quirk, and it only took him one afternoon seeing you doing the chores alone for him to figure out the bullying. You refused to tattle, knowing that it would only make things worse, but he was able to release you from the power of your classmates’ demands.
You were given a strict suggestion, not an order though this time you don’t think you would have minded, to come find him anytime you needed his help. No adult had ever helped you like this before. All of your parent’s friends fawned over your quirk, and lamented about how they wished their own children had developed the same quirk. They had no idea.
It was an afternoon where the sun was shining brightly. A perfect day for something ugly to happen— especially to someone with luck like yours. There was one girl in your class who always had it out for you. You didn’t know why, you had never even talked to her. Your attempts to remain unseen unfortunately did not work this day, because for some reason the most popular boy in your class had decided he thought you were cute and voiced that to his friends.
Enraged, the girl hissed at you after class in a voice filled with venom, “He won’t think you’re cute if your face is full of bruises. Pinch yourself and don’t stop.” As your body filled with syrupy static and your hand raised to your cheek to grasp it in a hard pinch, you fled to try and find the only man who could make you stop.
By the time you made it to the hero department, your cheeks were sore and tears had filled your eyes. You didn’t even notice the prince you had always admired from the top of your tower pause as you sped by, face marred by a frown at your distraught expression.
The pro hero was obviously unamused by how you refused to tell who had made you pinch yourself. A trip to Recovery Girl however had you right as rain, and you were honestly ready for the day to just be over. The last thing you were expecting was Shouto to be standing outside the nurse’s room waiting for you. His face serious and his large arms crossed over his chest. His uniform fit him perfectly, you noticed, like it was tailored just for him.
“I’ve heard about you.”
Your mouth dropped open without your permission . His voice, deep and smooth, glided over you like water and cooled on your skin.
“You have a quirk that makes you do what people tell you to do.”
You had heard about his blunt nature, but hearing it for the first time in person shocked you. At your timid nod, his brow furrowed, and his eyes gave you a once over quickly.
“You can come get me. If you ever need help.” With this statement he pushed off the wall, and without a goodbye walked away.
You tell yourself that it’s just in Shouto’s nature to help people in need. He is in the hero course, so naturally he would follow you whenever he saw you were distress. Shouto being, well Shouto, makes it very hard to keep this in mind.
After the pinching incident, you seemed to have become a target for your classmates’ anger and frustrations. One classmate failed an English test, and to make themselves feel better they ordered you to jump on one foot until you couldn’t anymore.
Eventually left alone in the hallway, your jumping not being entertaining enough to them anymore, your saving grace came in the form of your prince. You don’t know why he was in the general studies section of the school, but you couldn’t complain— multiple students had walked by you with barely a glance. He walked over to you quickly and put a hand on your waist.
“Stop.” His voice cleared the haze in your mind making you obey, and his cool hand kept you steady as you wobbled, unstable after jumping for so long. Shouto straightened your uniform jacket with nimble fingers before walking away, leaving before you could even say thank you.
The next big incident came in the form of you being told to dump your glass of water over your head in front of everyone in the cafeteria. You quickly ran off afterwards, and your prince followed only a few feet behind.
Staring at yourself in the bathroom mirror, your shoulders dropped. The bathroom door opening suddenly made you whirl around, heart racing whenever you saw the signature two toned hair of Shouto.
You had never seen this much emotion on his face before. He looked angry as he stalked over to you. He grabbed the paper towels you were using to dry yourself, and his hand raised up close to your face. The air around you turned warm. Steam surrounded you as he evaporated the water from your hair and down to your shoulders. You were reminded of how you would sit in front of the heater after playing in the snow as a child, defrosting contently.
“Why don’t you tell the teacher who does this?” His voice was soft, a contrast to his angry demeanor.
You looked up at him, and saw how genuine he was. He cared so much about the wellbeing of a stranger. A prince indeed. You decided to take a big step, and tell him something you’ve never told anyone.
“I-I can’t.”
Your voice was meek, and his face turned stoic as he took in your answer.
“You can’t, as in someone ordered you not to.”
It wasn’t a question but you nodded nonetheless.
“You know there is a loophole for this, yes?” He said it so simply, no judgement in his voice, only the same warmth.
With a sigh, you begin to explain. “Their dad is my dad’s boss, and somehow they figured this out.”
With a hum, Shouto grabbed a strand of your hair between his nimble fingers. He twirled it around before tucking it behind your ear and smiling. It was like looking at the sun.
“I think I can help.”
He held your hand as you both walked back to the cafeteria. It was his fire side, and the warmth radiated up your arm and into your heart. Before you both entered the cafeteria, he spoke.
“I know you can’t verbally tell me who is responsible for this, but whenever I point them out I want you to squeeze my hand. I already have some idea.”
To show him you understood, you gave his hand a shy squeeze. This made him send a small smile your way, and you could feel the breath physically leave your lungs.
Shouto confidently walks you to the right table, leaving a quiet room after him. Everyone seemed shocked to see you both hand in hand, except his friends. Glancing over quickly you could see that Deku and Ochaco had large grins on their faces, while Iida was nodding in what you could only interpret as aggressive approval.
Your classmates stared at the both of you in trepidation as you and Shouto came to a stop in front of their table. Without saying anything, Shouto quickly pointed at the girl who had always had it out for you, and made sure the rest of the class began to feel the same way. Surprised he knew so fast, you squeezed his hand, heart beating furiously.
“I see.” Was all he said, and you watched as the girl’s face turned pale in the glory of his ire.
The next few days seemed to happen in a blur. Shouto had taken you straight to Aizawa to tell him who your tormentor was, as well as the concerns that held you back from using the loophole of your quirk sooner. The next day, the girl and her family met you in Nezu’s office to apologize.
They bowed to you, and the father told you that he was relocating himself and his family to South Korea, so there would be no worry of any retaliation against your father. Your father might even get a promotion. You noticed how pale he seemed as he looked at the tall figure looming behind you, icy hot eyes staring the man down.
Later that day, you stood shyly in front of a stoic Shouto, trying to put into words how grateful you were.
“That wasn’t the first time I had noticed you, you know.” He spoke first.
“What?”
“I’ve um. I’ve always thought you were really pretty.”
Shouto looked away from you suddenly, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his head. A soft pink highlighted the tips of his ears.
“I’ve always thought you were really handsome as well.”
Shouto’s head snapped back towards you in surprise. Before he speaks, his eyes focused over your shoulder and his expression crumpled. You looked behind you, shocked to see Deku, Ochaco, and Iida peeking out from behind the corner. Deku was exaggerating his expressions and mouthing “ask them out!” They spot you looking and quickly popped back behind the wall.
You laugh brightly, and find your confidence.
“Will you go out with me, Shouto?”
#romcomcollab#mat’s writing#shouto headcanons#shouto angst#shouto x you#mha shouto#shouto x y/n#shouto x reader#bnha shouto#shouto todoroki#mha angst#mha x reader#mha fanfiction#mha#shoto todoroki#shoto x reader#mha shoto#shoto torodoki#shoto x y/n#shoto x you
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Hi!! I’m your friendly neighborhood Swiftie BEGGING you for Eddie - Sparks Fly
sparks fly (eddie's version)
warnings: tooth-rotting fluff. mutual pining. the works. <3
wc: 2.1k+
a/n: this one got mad cheesy. maybe a little too cheesy. idc. i had fun with it.
“You know, one of these days, you’re gonna have to talk to Ed,” the older bartender, Phil, muses as he wipes down the counter behind you.
You hardly hear him over the current symphony of electric guitars, riveting bass, and crashing drums filling the Hideout. You had one focus tonight, just as you did every Tuesday and Friday night, and that was the band on the stage currently commanding an even larger audience than last week.
You’d seen it coming. Building crowds, more buzzing conversations around town in hushed tones about the band that owned the stage of the hole in the wall. You’d stumbled upon them by accident, coming in and telling yourself you were just grabbing one drink after a particularly rough shift. But one drink immediately turned into four that night when the band had taken the stage, playing song after song, keeping you glued to that bar stool and completely enamored with one particular boy on stage.
Eddie Munson.
Every time you watch him command that stage, wild hair and vibrant eyes, it’s like the first time all over again. You can’t get over his wicked grin, the way he puts his entire self into each performance, the rasp of his voice – you’re down bad for a man you’ve never even properly spoken to.
By some miracle, you tear your eyes from the stage, swiveling to face Phil, “Excuse me?”
“Ed. You know, Eddie,” he repeats himself, leaning both palms on the bar, “He notices you, you know? Always asks me where you ran off to after their set’s done.”
Your heart is suddenly in your throat, embarrassment red hot in the pit of your stomach, “H-He notices me? Why would he notice me?”
“You’re at every show. Even before they started getting a proper crowd. The damn boy hasn’t shut up about you since that first night,” Phil pauses to hand off a beer to another patron wordlessly, “You’re lucky you pay with cash and not card, or I’m sure he would’ve tracked you down outside of here by now. Calls you his Cinderella.”
Like a clock chiming midnight, the final tinny note of the set rings through the bar, and you can hear that rasp of Eddie’s voice booming through the speakers.
“We have been Corroded Coffin! Thank you very fucking much!”
And just like clockwork, you’re rushing to dig into your purse, yanking a twenty from your wallet and smacking it onto the bar before grabbing your drink to down the last of it.
“I’m not Cinderella,” you choke out over the residual burn of the alcohol, face still scrunched up as you glance over your shoulder to see the boys have already left the stage, “I just like the music.”
“The music,” he hums, “Right. Well, your money’s no good here tonight, little miss Cindy,” he reaches out, and with a singular fingertip, pushes the cash back towards you over the sticky wood. When your mouth opens and closes in confusion, Phil’s eyes flicker up towards the side door beside the stage where a commotion has begun, signaling that the band is coming out, “It seems the music likes you, too. So much so that he demanded I add your drinks to his tab tonight.”
The coals of embarrassment burn even brighter, igniting you from the inside out. Your hand flies out, grabbing back the twenty and shoving it aimlessly in your purse. You keep looking back at the crowd, catching glimpses of dark curls over the small sea of people singing their praises, watching your seconds run out in real time. It’s not that you didn’t want to speak to the man who has had you captivated for several months now; you were just mortified that he’d noticed you in that crowd, noticed the way you attended each show.
One of these days you’d talk to him. But tonight, you had no bravery left for such boldness.
“You’re gonna have to leave behind a glass slipper for the boy eventually,” Phil only chuckles, watching you fumble to clasp your purse before you shoot up from the stool, “Hey, hold on-”
“Another night, Phil!” you call out, not even looking back as you make a beeline for the bar’s exit.
If you had, you would have seen your favorite ring that Phil was holding up, the one that you had taken off your finger to fiddle with endlessly before sitting it down at some point without thought, now left behind like some kind of glass slipper.
—
You were late. It was Friday night, the day had been a nightmare, and you were fucking late to Corroded Coffin’s show.
Your attendance had never faltered like this before. You were always right on time, sometimes five minutes early once the crowds doubled in size in order to secure one of your regular seats.
The deviation from your routine has you reeling, amongst other things. Your Friday had simply been shit. A nonstop rampant attack on your sanity, one thing after another testing what was left of your patience. You’d slept through your first two alarms this morning, you hadn’t realized you were out of coffee creamer until you’d grabbed the scarily light container of it this morning, you had to take a dreadfully cold shower rather than waste precious minutes letting the water warm, you’d worked through your lunch to clean up a mess made by your coworker – the list goes on and on.
You burst through the entrance of the Hideout, probably looking a bit crazed, stopping dead in your tracks when you realize two things.
One, It’s fairly empty. And two, Corroded Coffin is not on the stage.
“Look who decided to show!” Phil calls from his place behind the bar, waving dramatically to you, “Cinderella!”
“Phil, for the last time, I’m not-”
“Your favorite band canceled tonight, I’m afraid,” he bulldozes right over your retort as you approach one of your usual stools.
Your brows furrow, “Canceled? Is everything okay?”
Phil’s mouth opens. But it’s not his voice that answers you.
“Gareth’s sick.”
A voice you’d only heard on the stage, through crackling speakers and enthusiastic addresses to a crowd. A voice you had never heard one-on-one, and for good reason.
Your breath escapes you as you turn slowly, facing the man you’d managed to elude for months now.
“Pardon?” you squeak out, voice hardly audible.
Eddie still grins shyly, hearing you loud and clear due to how uncharacteristically quiet the bar is tonight, “Our drummer, Gareth – he’s, uh, sick. Sorry to disappoint.”
He’s just as captivating up close as he is on the stage. There’s still something wild in him, something electrifying that he seems completely unaware of.
“Don’t apologize,” you’re still whispering, internally cursing yourself for it. You probably look ridiculous right now; you can only picture your starry eyes and parted lips, looking at him with palpable shock, hardly able to utter a word, “I- I’m not disappointed. There’ll be other shows!” you stammer your way through your words, and when Eddie only continues to look at you with gentle amusement, the softest ripple of possible nerves from the way his hands shoved into his pockets, you continue to over explain yourself, rambling on, “I just- I, uh, hope he feels better.”
“Yeah, me too,” he nods in agreement before he buries his hands even deeper. Suddenly, as if he’s found something in those pockets, his face lights up in delight, “Oh! Hey, I-” his left hand pulls out of his pocket at lightning speed, still curled into a fist as he thrusts it into your direction, “I think this might be yours.”
Slowly, he unfurls his fingers, and in the center of his palm rests your ring. You had assumed it was lost to the fire, that it might have fallen off at work or outside your apartment, never to be found again. Just another thing to add to your checklist of things gone wrong.
And yet there it was, like a perfect glass slipper, right in the palm of Eddie’s hand.
Your nerves are all but forgotten as you get giddy, reaching out without thinking to take the ring from him. A gentle brush of your fingertips against this palm, and you swear you feel sparks flying from the minimal contact, “Oh! Oh my gosh! Thank you, I-” you slip it on easily, smiling widely before you look up at him gleefully, “I thought I’d lost it for good. Thank you.”
Eddie turns bashful, tilting down his chin and letting stray curls fall in his face that half hide his own contained grin. If the lighting in the bar had been better, you would have caught the pink spreading across his cheeks.
“And so the prince finally meets his Cinderella,” Phil mutters from behind the two of you before he suddenly smacks his palms on the countertop, “Alright! Well, if you two will excuse me, I have to…. Do some stock count in the back,” a blatant lie, “Don’t burn the place down, yeah?”
Eddie snaps out of his daze to look up to the older man, mock saluting him in a way that has an involuntary giggle leaving your lips. In an instant, he’s looking back down to you, almost surprised at the sound.
Cheap bar lighting can no longer hide his blush. Or your own adoration.
“The bar is yours! Make good decisions!” Phil continues to shout as he moves to the backroom, voice fading with each step.
Finally, you and Eddie are alone.
“And then there were two,” he murmurs, taking a step closer to you, finding something brave in him at the way you’re looking up at him in reverie.
The rockstar that had been enchanting you for months from a distance. The man who had been occupying all your thoughts far too much for having been a stranger.
This is your chance. No more hiding at the back of the bar, only admiring him with the safety of a crowd between you two. No more wondering, no more imagining, no more pining. Time stands still, not a single clock daring to strike midnight as the electric currents between you two come to a rise.
“Say,” you say right when he looks to be preparing himself to speak first. It’s time to be bold, take a risk, no matter the costs. “Do you… Do you want to grab a drink?”
His wicked grin is even better right in front of you, directed at you, “Well, he did say the bar is ours. What’s your poison?”
“Jack and coke?”
He shrugs, still a vibrant fool, like a schoolgirl with a crush, “I’ve been known to have a heavy hand with the jack, but… I think I can manage that.”
Electrifying, pulsing, the beginning of something new. You can see it now – the way you’re going to cling to his arm when he makes you laugh so hard you nearly fall off your chair, the way he’ll be able to charm you better over a jack and coke than he ever had been able to from behind a guitar, the way those eyes scream trouble. And yet at the end of the night, you know he’ll still walk you to your car through the empty parking lot. He’ll probably use the excuse of the bad weather looming overhead. When the sky finally breaks open and the first drops of rain fall, neither of you will be brave enough to admit what you both already know. Tonight’s not the night for kisses in the rain or talk of what-ifs.
That’s fine. For tonight, the sparks of something new are enough.
Eddie moves to walk behind the bar, but you throw out a reckless hand to catch him. Your first curls around his forearm for the first time tonight, and even with the layer of leather that separates skin, you can feel it. “Hey, did you really call me your Cinderella?”
Flashes and arrays of what’s to come flood both of you. It’s only the first drink. It’s only the first night.
It won’t be the last.
“I mean,” he nods subtly down to the hand holding him, where your ring glitters on your middle finger, snug on your knuckle, “If the ring fits, right?”
He’s right. The ring fits.
And a different ring fits years later, after all those kisses in the rain and many more jack and cokes that Eddie never quite perfects. And you’re still right where you belong, front row at every Corroded Coffin show, Eddie’s own personal Cinderella. When the clock strikes midnight, he’s no longer afraid – he knows you’ll be coming home to him now.
Phil only laughs when he receives the invite, chuckling to himself at the chosen theme for the two idiots that once haunted his bar who now had moved onto bigger and better things.
A gothic fairytale wedding, on a Tuesday night. How fitting.
"you touch me once and it's really something. you find i'm even better than you imagined i would be."
#speak now (ghost's version)#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson imagine#stranger things#gotta go see a dentist now#heavily inspired by the og version where she talks about meeting in a bar ngl#speak now is just so fairytale love coded to me i'm sorry#this also would have fit so well for enchanted too but#i listened to sparks fly as i wrote it i swear
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Pampérigouste escaped today and I almost didn't make a post about it because it's just more of the same isn't it? do people who read this blog really want to hear about yet another Pampe escape? Then I thought, that's like asking if people who read detective novels really want to hear about yet another mysterious murder. Probably yes. Also Pampe would have been offended to have such a successful escape go unreported.
I would like to say that my new fence is still fully Pampe-proof. She has not escaped a single time through breaking or outsmarting the fence, so now she does it by outsmarting me. Which doesn't happen all that often, because we are intellectual equals. But I let my guard down this morning—I'd just peeled some greenhouse carrots to make purée and I went into the pasture to distribute the peelings even though it was raining (see how I got punished for my selflessness?), and I left the gate open because I was right in front of it, obstructing it with my body.
Pampe dropped her carrot peelings and acted like she couldn't find them even though they were right under her feet, so I took pity on her and crouched down to gather them and offer them to her again (see how I'm getting punished for my compassion??) and she took advantage of this diversion. In the span of 0.2 seconds she slithered around me and she was out. It was a little bit beautiful. I don't know if you remember this photo of Pampe & Pyrgus, but it's a perfect illustration of what happened:
I sighed and ignored her and finished distributing the peelings to the other animals, and then went to the barn to get muesli to lure my nuisance back to her pasture. After escaping she initially ran towards the woods, but since I ignored her the whole time, she emerged from the woods when I returned, like, wait, did you notice I escaped? Behind your back, just earlier? Did you notice how I won and you lost?
It shouldn't have been difficult to get her back into the pasture with the help of her favourite snack; unfortunately Pampoldine is still a big baby who was distraught that her mum had left her behind yet again (she should be used to it, honestly, it's been like this since she was an infant), she started making these little panicky noises that Pampe has never paid any attention to—
—so when I propped the gate open with a branch to get Pampe back inside, Poldine hurried out instead. I wasn't expecting this, I thought it was clear that I had the situation under control and her mum would be back in 5 seconds. You could have just waited 5 seconds, Poldine.
Pampelune had no interest in escaping, but she's the matriarch and where her herd goes, she goes, so once the other two were out she barrelled past me as well. I opened the gate to bring 1 llama in and instead 2 llamas went out. Pirlouit besides me was like
For some reason the llamas galloped towards the road, instead of just hanging out in the woods where there's stuff to eat. Maybe because Pampe hadn't gone out in a long time and she wanted to be admired for her feat. Her wish was granted—2 cars stopped to say hi as I was miserably trotting after my llamas on the road in the rain. One of them was the post office lady who once herded my animals out of a pasture with her car, and she was like hop in, it'll be like old times!!!
The two people who stopped their car were enchanted with the encounter and they both told me that they missed the days when Pampe Sightings on this road were a regular thing. No one sides with my fence in the Pampe v. Fence conflict. I love the post office lady though, she had a Niagara song playing in her car when I got in and a minute later I muttered "I'll sell her to the butcher" and she started singing "Pampe ♪ Je vais devoir te vendre au boucher ♫" to the tune of that song. It fit the tune really well, too.
After we managed to get the llamas off the main road and back in the woods, she was like, godspeed, I wish I could continue chasing them with you but I have to go make lunch for my kids. I told her that now that the llamas were no longer on the road I'd just let them roam, they'll come home before night, no way I'm going to chase after them in the woods in this dog weather. So I went home and grumpily resumed peeling carrots and potatoes for my mash.
I sat in front of the window to do it so I could keep an eye on Pirlouit, who was wandering around the pasture like a cursed soul, drenched with rain, lonely and llamaforsaken. Sometimes he brayed to try and guide his friends back home, wherever they were, but he never brayed while I was filming. His braying is a poignant display of emotion and is not for public consumption.
I figured, if the llamas come back Pirou will spot them and perk up his immense ears, and I'll know to go out and open the gate. Instead at some point I looked up from my potatoes and saw my donkey finally at peace, grazing rather than pacing restlessly, and I went to look outside and his friends were back! And so was his appetite.
I had new peelings + some muesli to offer, but of course Pampe could tell this offering was a crude and blatant trap and refused to fall for it. Meanwhile her innocent daughter was like yay, snacks :) and followed me in the pasture, a llama entirely devoid of wiles.
After I got Poldine back inside I went like WELL since NOBODY else wants that delicious MUESLI I guess these deserving chickens can have it—and Pampe was here in the blink of an eye to shoo the hens away from her muesli.
She was grudgingly smiling about it, too. Like, point for you.
I love this pic where my chicken looks like she's herding the animals back in their pasture all by herself.
Everyone is home! Pampe and Pandolf are walking away in search of new adventures, Poldine follows her mum because of her abandonment issues, and Pirlouit is also following everyone very closely, like, I'm not getting left behind again.
I finally managed to cook my mashed carrots & potatoes (+ herbs from the greenhouse) and it's so nice to make food with nothing but ingredients you grew yourself! (To be completely honest I only managed to grow 3 carrots in the past few months but that's because I neglected them in pursuit of more flashy summer vegetables)
I also had an apple-plum compote for dessert made with my own fruit <3 Okay, the cheese course in between was store-bought. One of my friends really wants me to get goats and be self-sufficient in cheese and when I told her I would be constantly chasing my goats over hill and dale because they have a reputation to be insufferable escape artists she was like, what difference will it make to your life...
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PAC: Your Person's Thoughts About You 18+
This reading includes:
your person's dirty thoughts about you
The extended reading includes:
their reaction to these thoughts
Disclaimer: this is just for entertainment purposes, and as a pick-a-card reading it may not resonate for everyone. Also, this content is 18+ only!
TIPS | BOOK A READING WITH ME | PATREON | LINKTREE | SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC
Pile 1
Judgment, Moon
"Devotion save me now/ I don't wanna stray from the hallowed ground/ I'll turn temptation down" Hurts - Devotion
The first thing I'm getting from this pile is that your person wants to see you naked. It's actually really interesting because this is supposed to be about their dirty thoughts (and well in a way it is), but this naked is almost like moving beyond your physical body. They want to see you for who you really are without any reservations on your part. This can be a bit of a kink for them too. It's almost like unravelling you during sex. They also want to have you completely at their mercy. For some of you this will be a bit more bdsm-y while for others not so much. In general, what I mean by this is that they want you to fully trust them and let them do the work. It's like putting your pleasure completely in their hands.
Going back to the naked thing though, it might be that you two haven't been intimate yet and they keep imagining what you'll look like when there aren't any clothes on you. Or it might be that you have been intimate and it's almost like the image of your naked body is seared in their brain. They couldn't forget it even if they wanted to and it's a thought that just keeps popping up for them randomly. I actually think that one of the reasons that they can't stop thinking about it is because of the energy that you gave off. This is hard to explain, but in the moment it was like there was something supernatural about you, the way you surrender completely to your seductive and animal side is/was very enchanting for your person.
This person is also dreaming about kissing you pile 1, especially your neck. I also get the vibe that they want to mark you, like leaving hickeys or bite marks. It seems that they're the type of person that likes to leave something to remember them by. I keep hearing that they just want to take you in their arms. Again, there's this vibe that they are the most dominant energy and want you to surrender to them (but this doesn't really feel like power-exchange honestly). They want to worship your body (this also fits the song that you got tbh).
They might also fantasize about having sex in a taboo place or out in nature (maybe both for some of you). They might want to have sex in a lake or a secluded place out in the woods. For some people they might want to do it in a graveyard (Mary Shelly would approve lol) or like another person's bedroom or in a place where you could get caught. I also think that they want to have sex all night long, going as long as you both can and then be completely exhausted.
For some you they also wish that you would let yourself be a little wilder. There's this vibe that they think that you are kinkier than you act (you might seem too in control or put together during the act for their liking) and they would love it if you showed this side of yourself. They also know that in part it's a question of trusting them enough, so that would really do it for them too - knowing that you trust them like that.
Pile 2
Star, Tower
"When I first saw you/ The end was soon/ To Bethlehem it slouched/ And then it must have caught a good look at you" Hozier - NFWMB
Hi pile 2, your person's dirty thoughts about you are quite interesting because I keep getting this idea that they will have a dirty thought, indulge in it for a moment, and then they'll feel bad about it. It's like they try to repress these thoughts because they think that they're somehow disrespectful to you. It might be that you aren't in a relationship with this person yet, and this is what cause these feelings, because you don't know that they see you like this.
A bit like pile 1, your person also thinks about seeing you naked. I feel like 90% of their 18+ thoughts are about your naked body. It might be them imagining what you would look like or just remembering your body. Unlike pile 1 there isn't this vibe of wanting you to surrender to them or seeing you undone, your person just wants to admire you in all your glory. They think that you're breathtaking and it honestly makes them a bit weak in their knees. It's actually more likely that your person wants to submit to you than the other way around. They also want to get on their knees and worship you, so this is probably oral sex. With the Tower here as well I'm seeing a lot of orgasms for both of you, explosive and maybe a bit mind-shattering. I'm hearing someone say that they've been "fucked dumb", so yeah, that could be one of their fantasies too. There's also something here about squirting and/or cum play as well. If your person has a penis they probably want to paint you with their cum, most likely your face, chest or back.
If you have breasts your person is also obsessed with them. They love the way they look (no matter the size) and really want to play with them. If you don't have breasts this could still be about your nipples. They're also pretty obsessed with your thighs and some of them want to get crushed between them. Again, there's this vibe that they want to please you so bad. It's not that they're really submissive, but they want to give you as much pleasure as humanly possible.
Your person also fantasizes about making love to you instead of fucking. They want the sex to be loving, safe and healing for the both of you. They also think about having shower/bath sex with you. Or they might get more dirty thoughts about you when they're in the shower. There's also something about cleanliness here, so it could be that your person enjoys/imagines cleaning you up after sex.
Pile 3
Nine of Wands, Two of Wands
"Love is our resistance/ They'll keep us apart, and they won't stop breaking us down/ Hold me/ Our lips must always be sealed" Muse - Resistance
Pile 3, your person seems to be quite kinky. The first thing I'm seeing here is bondage. They imagine tying you up and maybe even using blindfolds. This could be like full bondage or maybe just using handcuffs (it's going to change a bit from person to person), whatever it is your person wants to restrain you. I'm even seeing that for some of you your person kind of wants to tie you up just to look at you. There's a hint of voyeurism here, so they might want to take pictures or videos of you and enjoy the thought of "what if someone saw this". It might go even a little bit further and they imagine someone walking on you or you two doing it in a public place right in front of everyone. I think that is biggest motivation for them is that they are super proud of being by your side and want to show you off.
Another thing that they imagine is fingering you. They get a lot of enjoyment from your pleasure so they imagine getting you off with just their fingers. Actually I just got a very detailed visual of you mostly naked while they're still completely clothed and their fingers inside of you. When it comes to positions your person imagines you two having sex standing up or bending you over something.
Just like pile 1 your person wants to see you completely undone and unraveled. They imagine you after sex with your hair all messed up, marks all over your body, covered in fluids, and an hazy look in your eyes. Yeah, just very very messy. Your person doesn't seem to be too shy about their desires though. They also want to have multiple rounds with you. They want to have sex with you for as long as you physically can. Again they want to see you completely exhausted. I actually keep seeing more about fingering and oral sex rather than penetration, so your person tends to imagine more about this types of acts. It might be that they're actually a bit shy about doing these things in real life so they like to imagine it.
Your person also likes to imagine sexual scenarios with a lot of action and adventure. They have a very fertile imagination. They might imagine themselves as an hero who rescues you and then you two have sex. They might really enjoy role-playing. They also imagine sex that progresses your relationship. Besides the kinkier stuff, they might imagine making love to you and being truly intimate and vulnerable with you. Honestly, this person just wants to be with you and they enjoy making up scenarios with you.
Pile 4
Five of Cups, Ace of Wands
"You lose your way, just take my hand/ You're lost at sea, then I'll command your boat to me again/ Don't look too far, right where you are, that's where I am" Lana Del Rey - Mariners Apartment Complex
Pile 4, your pile seems like the most emotional, at least at first sight. One of your person's biggest fantasies is being comforted by you through sex. They like to imagine themselves (I'm not sure if it's randomly or when something bad happens) feeling down or going through a rough situation and coming to you to be comforted. They imagine you taking them in your arms, holding them, kissing them and slowly taking off their clothes. They imagine you on your knees giving them oral sex and then you two having slow, loving sex. There might even be tears here. Like they're feeling so emotional from what happened and from how loved they are by you that they just tear up or cry a bit. I think that the biggest fantasy here is feeling loved tbh. I also think that your song and the lyrics that I chose are really fitting for your person. They really want you to take their hand and steer the boat when they're feeling lost.
With the Ace of Wands here they're also really passionate and want the sex between you to feel hot and heavy, to truly envelop the two of you. They might also think about wax play or temperature play. There's something here about the differences in temperature between your body and other objects. They also want to kiss all over your body. They're very connected to their body sensations, especially about warmth. I don't really know how to explain it. They crave the feeling of your hot mouth on them (and other things too).
Something that's a bit kinkier and that might be a bit off-putting for some people, but they also imagine having period sex with you. The blood doesn't irk them, and they might even finding it a bit hot. I don't want to describe it too much, because the images in my head are quite graphic. But, yeah imagine them playing with the blood a little bit. In general, I think that they have a thing for body fluids, mainly semen and spit from what I'm getting. This is the other pile that might want to paint you with their cum (or the other way around). Also, they imagine you spitting in their mouth. I'm immediately getting that most of these kinkier fantasies about them are something that they see as unrealistic.
Again, this pile is quite emotional and they also like to imagine you two having a fight and being really upset with each other and then having sex. I think that this is such a recurring scenario in their head that they have a lot of variants. They imagine you having loving sex almost as an apology, then they imagine being hatefucked or hatefucking you. Or being denied by you. They have a lot of different scenarios when it comes to this, the only thing in common is you two fighting.
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WHEN THEY'RE DADS
and they take their children to the work
pairing: dad & husband! cyno, kaveh, lyney, wriothesley x fem! reader
cw: original characters, slightly ooc to fit the plot, parenthood, domesticity and fluff. not beta-read.
reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡
x
Cyno
If the Matras had ever dared to think that they'd see a softer, more relaxed side from their general since he had become a father, they could not have been more mistaken as Cyno remained as ruthless and as sternly faithful to his beliefs as he had always been.
In fact, the birth of the twins only served to intensify his sense of morality and justice; his desire for preservation and security not only applied to the Akademiya' laws, but now extending to the well-being of Aryan and Isaar as well.
Even so, it was still common for many to still try to test their luck in deceive the General Mahamatra and risk cheating the system believing that they'd get away with it in the end. After all, what are the chances of their actions being noticed by Cyno when he already had so many duties to worry about?
Even if he was working, surely the well-being of his sons came as the first priority, right?
That was what they thought.
With the little ones babbling and fidgeting uncontrollably on his torso, it wasn't difficult to assume that Cyno would focus all his attention on his children rather than his surroundings, giving the advantage of a perfect loophole for some scholars of Rtawahist Darshan to escape into the desert to do use of forbidden knowledge — too unaware of the reddish irises that were also watching them attentively.
“They never learn,” he sighed in irritation as he adjusted Isaar into the sling to his chest and Aryan to his back, “Looks like we have a long day ahead of us, little ones. Dad will show you what happens to those who dare defy the rules.”
A cute laugh escaped his babies' mouths bringing a soft smile to Cyno's face at their reaction. Well, it seemed like he couldn't let his kids down now, could he?
On that day, Cyno had returned home early with a feeling of satisfaction and accomplishment; his twins babies, although remarkably happy, were already sleeping snuggled by their father's warmth, very exhausted from the day's activities.
On the other hand, the scholars who had dare challenged his abilities learned that Cyno's judgment should never be tested ever again. His frightening reputation was not something to take so lightly. However, there was something even terrifying about being stopped by the General Mahamatra while he takes care of his children.
They took notes to never doubt a dad' sense of responsability ever again.
Kaveh
There was something so absurdly attractive about Kaveh carrying your daughter in his arms as he discussed a construction project that you could do nothing but revel in the sight of.
The seriousness in his eyes, his slightly disheveled hair and the professionalism in the tone of his speech were three of the main characteristics that made you fall in love with the architect. But the addition of your baby girl sleeping snuggled against his chest definitely served to leave you — and all the other women present there — enchanted by him.
Perhaps this was the reason why his clientele had increased so much in recent months and the number of scams had dropped significantly, consequently also increasing his workload. Not only had fatherhood served to boost your husband's reputation and diligence, but your daughter had unwittingly become the architect's lucky charm as well.
While it wasn't unusual for both you and Kaveh to bring the baby with you to your respective jobs, the frequency with which Zahra accompanied him to the sumerian streets intrigued you. Not that you doubted your husband's ability to provide the necessary security and well-being for the little one, no. When it came to his daughter, you knew that Kaveh wouldn't think twice about risking his own life if it guaranteed her smile. It was more your uneasiness as a mother and wife speaking louder that even your husband's reassuring smiles couldn’t appease.
But in the end, you could only laugh to yourself at how worried you were for nothing because both Zahra and Kaveh were doing very well.
Kaveh's serene expression told you how calm he was and you assumed that negotiations with the client were also going well. Although Zahra was still sleeping, your little princess caught the attention of the citizens around them who cooed at the sight of father and daughter, causing some to approach them and taking an interest in Kaveh's work in the process.
Or in the case of some ladies, taking an interest in the handsome dad who was giving them some decorations advice and a bright smile for free.
Who would've thought that to become such a respected professional you only needed to bring your cute daughter to work, huh?
You just hoped that these potential clients would see Kaveh's beauty and dedication beyond appearances, otherwise you’d have bad news to tell your husband. And a lot of spinsters to put in their place too.
Lyney
“Ok, kids. Remember to listen to papa and auntie Lynette, and no runs. Especially you Quenn. Stay by your sister’s side, please,” you tell your twins who are getting ready to leave with their dad.
Quentin only giggled and Corinne nodded in agreement like the good girl she was. You could already imagine the antics that were going on in your son's head now that he was somewhat aware that he’d be going out alone with his father, although you also knew that Quentin was a well-mannered boy and would do everything he could not to cause problems for his parents or upset his twin sister.
It wasn't your children's first time accompanying their dad to a rehearsal at the Opera Epiclese, but it was definitely the first time that you wouldn't be around to watch them since you had personal matters to attend to. Even if you didn't worry about your husband's ability to care for and keep the children safe, you still liked to remind them how they should behave to avoid possible accidents as the twins had also reached the dreaded curiosity phase.
Furthermore, this reminder not only applied to the little ones but also to the magician, who had a heart as genuine as those of his children and could often be more playful than them.
“Don’t worry, my love. I'm sure the little ones will behave very well”, Lyney assures you, placing a kiss on your cheek and bringing the twins into his arms, “Ready to see daddy's new magic tricks?”
Luckily for Lyney, it wasn't a busy day at the theater; his team was already carrying out their duties even before his arrival and Lynette had already tested all their new magic items for the performance that’d take place in a few days.
Corinne and Quentin, despite being too young to understand what was happening around them, couldn't help but love watching all the preparation for what they knew would be a huge spectacle. Their little amethyst eyes sparkled like two pairs of jewels as they saw the stage being set up and, of course, their father starting some illusionist tricks.
Seeing the sweet curiosity on his children's faces, a warmth spread in Lyney's chest as he felt truly happy to be able to share his passion with his family.
And taking advantage of the twins' focus on him, the man created a small and brief exclusive show where he took a deck of cards from his pocket and manipulated each one of them so that they appeared and disappeared from one hand to the other. When the entire deck was gone, Lyney giggled at Corinne and Quentin's shocked looks. But when it reappeared once again from under his sleeves and the cards were thrown up, transforming into dozens of crystalflies soon after, the children's joyful and melodious laughter echoed throughout the Opera Epiclese bringing a smile not only to their dad but everyone there.
At the end of the day, when the whole family was back home, Lyney proudly shared with you how a good boy and a good girl your kids were; listening carefully to their father and aunt, and respecting the other employees.
But, well... it wasn't like you needed to know that the reason behind their behavior was because Lyney had barely worked; instead, he preferred to spend all his time in the company of his two favorite people in the whole world.
Wriothesley
The Fortress of Meropide’ veteran residents already knew Cameron as you and Wriothesley had no problem taking the little boy on your respective patrols.
In fact, many of them looked forward to meeting the Duke's son and being able to interact with the docile and laughing baby. Cameron's melodious giggles could melt even the hardest of hearts, and you and your husband appreciated the affection the prisoners showed your son.
However, when it came to the new inmates, you and Wriothesley had a mutual agreement to prioritize Cameron's safety before introducing him to the unfamiliar faces. After all, you can't be too careful, and the information documents about the detainees that came from the Palais Mermonia did little to say what kind of people you’d be dealing with.
Fortunately, to this day you or Wriothesley have never had to use your strength to educate newcomers and you hoped it’d stay that way.
That day, however, Wriothesley had no option but to take his son to welcome the new “residents” who were arriving. Normally you’d have stayed behind to look after your son, but you were also suddenly summoned to a meeting at the Court of Fontaine and left in a hurry after saying goodbye to your family.
“It seems it’s you and me again today, buddy,” Wriothesley said to his baby as he finished changing his dirty diaper and dressing him in appropriate clothes. When finally secured in the sling, Cameron cooed in delight.
Wriothesley smiled fondly.
“Yes. That's right, Cam. We’re late. Time to welcome the new residents.”
Now, although it was common knowledge that the current director of the Fortress of Meropide was nothing if not a fair and respectable man, there were still rumors about his strength and ferocity in combat that frightened even the most brutish of men. The fontainian citizens still harbored a certain fear of him and the prison's residents, so his reputation on the surface was not a pleasant thing to hear, even though Wriothesley didn't seem to care what these people thought of him either.
Thus, the prisoners who'd arrive that morning were already preparing for the worst when they went to meet the Duke; from physical punishments to psychological torture.
What they didn't expect, however, was to be cordially received by the director himself, who was carrying a baby that looked a lot like him trapped on his chest. While it was no secret that Wriothesley had a wife and son, the sight in person was shocking.
In the end, the reception had ended well for both sides. The new prisoners were given all the essential information about the prison system and its administration, and Wriothesley was able to get to know them better. It seemed that people became unconsciously more honest in the presence of babies.
Hours later when you returned home, your husband was enjoying a cup of tea while Cameron happily drank his formula while enjoying the warmth emanating from his father's arms.
You could say they had a good day.
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin#genshin x reader#cyno#cyno x reader#kaveh#kaveh x reader#wriothesley#wriothesley x reader#lyney#lyney x reader#genshin dads au
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the manor
pairing: 1920s!dick grayson x fem!bartender!reader
summary: while working at a hidden bar during the prohibition, you meet a handsome stranger who invites you to a party. little did you know, you just enchanted dick grayson, one of richest men in gotham.
tags: 1920s au, smut (18+), oral (f receiving), alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, teasing, p in v, angst, fluff
wc: 4.1k
It's so cramped, trying to fit in dozens of chairs in the glorified excuse for a room, but you love the place. Laughing heard in every direction, the strong smell of your drinks, and the fumbled clinking of glasses by every patron– the speakeasy has it all. Sure, the constant threat of having the wrong person walk in and decide to report the place still manages to make you twitch on occasion, but for the most part, you don’t let it throw you off your game. Instead, you let yourself take in the fading lamps all around you, dimly lighting up the faces of regulars or reflecting into the glossy wood paneling.
“Hey, doll. You wouldn’t mind pouring me another old fashioned, would you?”
And just like that, you get taken out of it. You fix the man his drink unenthusiastically, and as he attempts to chat you up, you try your best to tune it out. Although it’s difficult to give enough of a response to placate him while also clearing hinting you’re uninterested, you make a valiant effort. He leaves with a grumble to join his friends at an overflowing table in the back.
You’re about to wipe down the counter again as an excuse to stay occupied when you spot him. A man, well put-together but not obnoxiously so. His hair is slightly long, falling effortlessly across his forehead and curving around his cheeks to frame his face. His suit is nice – nicer than most of what the regulars wear – but not overindulgently. It was more odd that he showed up in a suit at all, seeing as this bar was a more casual affair. And, though you didn’t want to acknowledge it, he was very handsome. Just the small amount of his face you’re able to see through the dim has you interested.
Luckily, he walks straight to you, sitting at a stool right in the middle of the counter. You attempt to give him a moment or so of silence, because he could definitely be meeting someone here tonight, but you can’t resist.
“Evening,” you say. “Haven’t seen you around here before, sir.”
“Just found out about this place. I can’t believe I didn’t know it was here this entire time,” he turns his gaze towards you. “It’s warm. Lively.”
His eyes are a gorgeous blue, but you try to avoid staring at him too intensely. “Well, the good people here know how to keep a secret when they need to.”
He chuckles, “I hear that. Any drinks I should try now that I’m here?”
And he’s magnetic, drawing groups from across the bar towards him, chatting him up so they can understand who the attractive stranger is. He’s so freely charismatic, engaging people he’s barely met in conversation– even involving you when you’re not too busy keeping all your orders straight. Unexpectedly, he’s confident without being arrogant, but also self-effacing without being self-deprecating. It’s an impressive balancing act, and he pulls it off without breaking a sweat.
You try not to get your hopes up past that first interaction, knowing that he’s far too invested in other people right now to pay any attention to the bartender of all people, but for some reason, he keeps peering back at you. Every laugh that rips through him and has him banging on the table, but at the end of his reaction, he looks back at you to see if you found the joke funny, too. It’s endearing, how he’s so attuned to everyone – even your – emotions, and you’d like to give more than short, snappy responses, but you’re swamped with drink requests as the night goes on. He ends up slipping away from you minute by minute even though he’s right in your line of sight.
Before you realize it, it's the early hours of the morning and almost everyone is shuffling out of the bar– if not because they finally have to, because they don’t want to worry their wives even more. The man, Dick, as you heard others calling out that evening, is still sitting at the counter in the very same spot. You try not to let your brain get ahead of itself, but still, him being out at this hour means he likely doesn’t have a wife to worry. You shake your head, chiding yourself for still being so taken with him. The night is over, he may leave and never come again.
He’s not speaking now, which is a shame because his voice is like velvet. He’s clearly had quite a few drinks tonight, so you place a glass of water in front of him as you begin wiping down tables to close the place.
His eyes widen as you leave him the water, and instead of drinking it or ignoring it, he keeps staring through the glass, foggy with condensation. He almost looks puzzled, but you can’t figure out why.
“Why did you give me this?” he chokes.
You immediately assume you’ve made a mistake, so you move quickly to cover yourself. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to. You just had a lot tonight, your head will be killing you in the morning.”
Dick is still silent. The entire room feels too large for the both of you and it’s making you antsy.
“You haven’t left yet, and it’s awfully late, so I’m not sure that anyone will be giving you a ride. If you’ll be walking home, it’d be good to get some water in you,” you continue. “So you won’t, ah, vomit before you manage to make it back to wherever you’re staying.”
You turn to face him from where you’re wiping down a chair and catch him staring. His gaze is intense, like he’s trying to read you and telegraph emotions all at once, and you’re not awake enough to compose a worthy response. He picks up the glass of water after a beat, seemingly content with whatever he found or didn’t find, and drinks it while looking at you through half-lidded eyes.
His brows are the same jet-black as his tousled hair, and having their full attention turned on you makes you unable to turn away. Your breath catches in your throat as you see a drop of water run from his lips, gently curving down his neck and soaking into his pristine shirt. You turn away, embarrassed to watch the muscles of his throat contract as he swallows, but you hear him speak clearly.
“This Sunday, after your shift, I’ll send for you,” he says. “I’m having a party at my place. Please, I want you there.”
You nod, probably mumbling an affirmative as well, too flustered to really comprehend what he just asked. Well, less asked– more demanded. You finish up cleaning the speakeasy in a daze, and find yourself counting down hours in the following days until Sunday night finally comes.
.
You swear Dick told you he would pick you up, but the motorist who claims he was sent by “Master Dick” is obviously not him. The older gentleman is very polite, still, and you’re hesitant to ask too many questions in fear of sounding rude. The car itself is a sleek black, with a paint job like new. That, coupled with the fact that Dick apparently has a butler is already causing you to put some of the pieces together, but even from as much as you’ve gathered, you couldn’t have imagined he was rich enough to own his own manor.
The amount of wealth hoarded in the place is apparent. From the moment you reach the grounds, you see vibrant, perfectly kept lawns transforming into a luscious garden. There are so many flowers that you can't pick out their colors individually, they all blur into one from your bumpy car ride. There are mountains on property surrounding the main house itself, and you can’t tell whether that waterfall you spotted was real or a trick of the waning moonlight.
The kind butler lets you in through the front entrance and you thank him. Gasping at the sight, your body nearly jolts backwards. The place is filled to the brim with people. Even when compared to your speakeasy, the entire foyer of the manor is proportionately more crowded. Everywhere you look, people obscure your view, all wearing dazzling outfits in pearly, silver, or dark colors. You have the self-awareness to feel underdressed, but you push past it as you attempt to wrangle your way through the crowd.
The music is loud, whatever brass instruments are playing must be rooms away, but you can still hear them clearly from your place in the arching, large first room. Everything is so invasive, you aren’t able to hear your own breathing, footsteps, heart rate, or thoughts. It’s starting to make you dizzy. You nearly bump into guests holding champagne flutes multiple times, and you shiver at the thought of having to pay for the cost of cleaning their luxury outfits, but you manage to get out of the room and into one of the hallways of the building.
You want to cry in relief, but even though the hallway is sparser than the foyer, there are still plenty of people around. There are women wrapped in furs and men wearing suit jackets crisp enough they look freshly made. They can clearly see you don’t have an outfit a fraction as impressive as they do. What happens when they find out you’re a poor, unassuming bartender?
Speedwalking through the hallway and ignoring the generations of family portraits lining the walls, you find yourself blasted in the face with nothing but noise. The aggressive sounds of people dancing along to the band, heels clacking on the ballroom floor shakes you to your core, and you truly believe you’re going to turn around and leave right then until you spot him. He’s on the dancefloor, switching partners just about every measure, his wavy hair drenched in sweat but he couldn’t care less. Dick continues dancing wholeheartedly, stomping along and swinging ladies in opera gloves around. You should leave.
But of course, at that exact moment, he catches your eyes staring at him from the doorway. He mouths a word, something resembling your name, but you run without looking back. These rich people stare at you like you’re a wild animal, but you can’t care. The buzzing air of the place is starting to rot you from the inside. You need out of this manor now.
“Wait, please!” you hear a familiar voice cry out, and a moment later, a hand is wrapped around your arm.
“Let me go!” you shout, attempting to rip yourself from Dick’s grasp. He’s even prettier up close, wearing a tailored suit that hugs his broad shoulders. His hair must have been gelled back at some point, but it’s since come undone, and it’s working for him. By god, it’s working for him.
“Listen to me, I’m sorry,” he shouts, and he says something else after that, but you can’t make it out over the music and talking.
“What?” is all you can manage to respond with.
He shakes his head before changing his grip from your arm to your hand. He begins leading you somewhere without telling you, trusting you to follow him despite not giving you any reason to. You’re tempted to leave, but his palm is so warm, you find yourself going along.
Walking through a couple of sparsely populated rooms and a flight of stairs, you arrive at a balcony. It’s beautiful, carved out of sleek, white stone with planters of flowers overflowing and growing down the sides of the railing. Speechless, you run your hand along the vines and allow Dick to talk.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I should’ve told you… I know I should have, I just…”
“Why did you bring me here?” you ask, flicking your head to glare at him. “You have so, so, so many people here tonight. You could’ve chosen any one of them to toy with.”
You shake your head as you pinch your brow, “You didn’t need me.”
He doesn’t say anything, and you look up. Surprisingly, he looks hurt even though he doesn’t have any reason to be, like he’s decided to take on the loneliness you’ve been feeling this entire night as his responsibility– which to be fair, it is. Reaching for your hand, he encloses it in both of his.
“Is that what you think? That you’re here so I can fuck around with you?” he whispers it, but you can still pick up on the anger beneath his words. Although, it doesn’t sound like it’s directed at you. “You’re so kind, so genuine. You didn’t know me – still don’t – and you still gave a shit about me. Like a real, honest amount of care, not the airs the rest of these suits put on to impress me and get on my dad’s good side.”
“And I’m not sure why I did it, inviting you here. I was so drunk at the time, and all I could think was that I wanted to see you again. You were right, by the way” he gives a hollow laugh. “The next morning, my head hurt like hell. I couldn’t remember if I actually invited you or if I imagined it. I’m sure whatever bumbling explanation I gave Alfred must have been painful to hear, but he still agreed to wait outside your work– I need to thank him again. Anyway, anyway, I really shouldn’t have done this. You probably feel so terrible, this must have been so awful to go through. God, you deserve so much better.”
He brings your hand up to his lips and he kisses your knuckles, eyes still facing the balcony floor. “I hurt you. I can’t convey how sorry I am.”
In the light of the moon, with only the muffled sound of jazz to fill your mind, you step closer to him. He’s quivering as he watches you, as if you stand any threat to him. You keep closing the distance between the two of you until there’s only a few centimeters left. You’re so close you can hear his shallow inhales and exhales.
“You can make it up to me,” you breathe, landing your lips on his, kissing him lightly. He doesn’t reciprocate at first, and though your eyes are closed, you assume he’s uncomfortable, so you start to pull away. After another moment, he leans into the kiss and wraps an arm around your waist, rubbing his thumb up and down your spine.
He sighs, bringing up a hand to cup your cheek. You curl your arms around his shoulders, hooking them around his neck for support. His tongue explores your mouth, and you gasp into him. But he only uses the opening to his advantage, placing his hand on the back of your head and pulling you into the kiss. You feel all the air sucked straight out of your lungs, but you keep yourself attached to him until you reluctantly pull away to breathe again.
Dick moves his head back, getting a better view of your face and your rising chest. “I have an idea,” he says with a crooked smile.
“Oh, yeah?” you lick your lips, not missing how he zeros in on your tongue.
“Follow me,” and without any further explanation, you see him jump the balcony’s railing.
“Dick!” you shout, running over to the side and trying to adjust your eyes to the dark.
He’s alright, waving at you from the ground next to the rose bushes. “Come on! The jump looks worse than it actually is.”
“Easy for you to say,” you scoff, taking in the wide expanse of land that Dick’s family owns as a part of the manor. “What, haven’t you been riding horses your whole life?”
“How’d you know,” he quips with a smirk. “I was always a greater fan of gymnastics, though.”
“Great, that leaves hope for me.”
He gives a small chuckle, “Come on! Just try the jump. I’ll catch you, I promise.”
Shaking your head, you place both hands on the cold railing and engage your arm muscles. With a deep breath, you push off and for a chilling second, you feel yourself travel through the air before your feet eventually hit the ground. Dick’s there, as promised, holding you at the small of your back and wrapping an arm around your front to prevent you from falling over.
His head is resting next to your shoulder, and you can hear the breathiness in his voice as he whispers in your ear, “See, wasn't so bad.”
You nod, trying to disguise the wave of desire that runs through you. He seems to have himself under control, dashingly grabbing your hand and racing across the garden path. You can barely make out the twists and turns he’s taking as he leads you from the sparse topiaries and seating areas into the thicket of bushes. The further you both run, the more you struggle to catch your breath, but you still manage to take in the gorgeous flowers around you highlighted in the moonlight.
“I’ve never been anywhere this beautiful,” you say.
You glance back at him and find he was watching you while you were enamored with the scenery. You attempt to turn your head to the side in self-consciousness, but he brings a hand up to gently tilt your head to face him. His blue eyes pierce you, and you know even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t be able to break away from his gaze.
He kisses you again, and it feels like he’s trying to swallow you completely. Gripping onto your hips, he attempts to loosen his hands after a second, but you cover his hands with your own and keep him holding on. The action has him moaning into the kiss, and he pulls away from your face ever so slightly, lips still parted, to work down your neck.
You can feel his sweet kisses turn to nips quickly, and you bring up a hand to try and stifle the noises you let out, but he removes it from your mouth. Instead, your hands interlock as he leaves a bruise on your neck. He licks at it dutifully, but he quickly moves lower, nipping at your collarbone and mouthing at as much of the smooth expanse of your chest as he can reach from your outfit.
He thumbs at a peaking nipple through your clothes, and you whimper, rooting a hand in his hair to keep yourself from falling over. Dick lets out a curse, and he moves to rid you of your top, hands resting on the closure before he asks, “Is this okay?”
You nod desperately, tugging at the back of his jacket to get him to hurry up, and he lets out a deep chuckle. He wastes no time leaving you just in your bra and bottoms, and he reaches a hand to cup a breast through the fabric. He exhales through his nose, groaning as he pushes the soft skin out from the cup and brings his head to your chest, licking at your newly freed nipple.
He continues to play with your chest, biting at it and teasing you until both of your buds are hardened, and it makes you struggle to keep your breathing even. You can feel heat coarse through your entire body despite the cool night air surrounding you on all sides, and you want – need – more.
“Dick,” you whisper, scratching at his back through his clothing. He peers up at you, meeting your gaze through his thick eyelashes and he seems to understand instantly. He peels off his jacket, leaving him only in his white button up, and he rolls up the sleeves to his elbows as he brings a hand down to cup your thigh.
“Oh my god, please!” you call out as his thumb rubs against the inside of your thighs. His tongue is still at work playing with your chest, but he brings his hand up to rub against your slit, the slick soaking your panties.
“Fuck, already?” he says, dropping to his knees in front of you. Your eyes go wide, and your body heats up like you’ve been struck with a fever. “I’ve barely even touched you.”
He peels your panties down, pooling them at your ankles, and grips your hips as he brings his face to your core. Slowly, he runs his nose against your opening, teasing you so close to where you need him. Your breath catches in your throat as he licks your folds, finally reaching inside your heat. Your toes curl, and you plant both of your hands in his hair as his tongue graces your clit, swirling lightly.
He works gracefully, quick to give you pleasure but never too much of it. Whenever your moans become too loud, he moves from stimulating your clit to dipping into opening, or occasionally licking at your thighs. The coil inside you keeps growing tighter, and you have no idea how you’ve managed to stay upright for this long. His tongue makes you feel like you’re floating, like you could stay here your entire life and be perfectly content. You find yourself scratching at his scalp, and you can hear the vibrations of his moan on your clit as he laps at you.
That slight stimulation is so near to what you need, “I’m close.”
He stops without warning and you want to curse him for leaving you. He stands up without wasting any time, and he unzips himself from his tailored pants. You watch in awe as he gives himself a few strokes before pulling you closer to him, getting your permission before sliding into your folds.
He picks you up with a start, gripping at your thighs and allowing your ankles to interlock at his back. Your gasps turn into a guttural groan, and he kisses you roughly to stop yourselves from being heard. He works himself deeper inside you, patiently allowing himself to bottom out as your walls urge him on. Once he’s finally sheathed, he gives a small thrust and it has you shivering, wanting so much more.
He gives into your demands, setting a quick pace while kissing you, swallowing up every sound you make and keeping them from himself. He’s steady with his thrusts, trying to pace himself and keep himself on hold for you, but you snake your hand to wrap at the base of his neck. Without a warning, you pull at the strands there and he grunts into your mouth. Biting at your lip, he tightens his grip on your hips as pumps inside you faster.
“Holy shit, you’re so tight,” he gasps. “So warm, I could – fuck – I could stay inside you and never leave.” You scratch at his neck, wanting more from him to finally quell the heat that keeps burning inside you.
“Dick, I need–” you start, but are unable to finish, so distracted in your daze of pleasure.
“Yeah, darling? Tell me what you need.”
You shake your head, too far gone by this point to articulate anything, but Dick seems to understand, anyway. He moves a hand down to your clit, and begins rubbing precise circles on it, finally meeting you where you need him most. You feel your walls clench around him, swallowing him further inside and hitting you where you’re most sensitive.
You open your mouth to warn him, but the words turn into a breathy moan as you cum around cock. Your climax rips through you, and every nerve lights on fire as you hear Dick briefly warn you before falling over the edge, too. Both of you lazily rut against each other, working through your joined orgasm together.
When the world finally comes back into view, you feel so ready to faint, but Dick holds your shoulders and allows you to rest on him as he lays on the grass. The chill of the night air is finally reaching past your skin, and he throws his suit jacket on top of you. Both of you stay outside in the garden, watching the moon and the stars shine on you as the night slips by.
#dick grayson#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson x fem!reader#dick grayson smut#smut#nightwing#nightwing smut#nightwing x reader#dick grayson x you#nightwing x fem!reader#dc smut#dc comics#dc universe#angst#fluff
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Intro Dialogue ❥ Flirty | 1 [My Boys]
I'm new to the fandom so don't be too hard on me. Raiden, Liu Kang, the Lin Kuei and the Royal family has my heart. Anyway, I wanted to start writing for them and this is the start of that. Enjoy! xoxo [In the future, if people want male reader content I can do that as well].
❥ female reader x the lin kuei + liu kang & raiden.
❥ intro dialogue
──── · · · ❥ BI-HAN
❥ | You will never become apart of the Lin Kuei.
❥ | Oh no, you wound me, Bi-Han.
❥ | You really think I would go for someone like you, Empress?
❥ | Where there's a will, there's a way.
❥ | I am the Lin Kuei's Grandmaster.
❥ | You could also be my King.
❥ | Let's hope you can fight as much as you... flirt...
❥ | You're always so mean to me, Bi-Han. It’s cute.
❥ | Do you fight as well as you talk?
❥ | Why don't you come over here and find out.
❥ | Oh, how you chill my heart.
❥ | Where did you learn that from? Johnny?
──── · · · ❥ TOMAS VRBADA
❥ | You cannot hide, Queen.
❥ | For you, I am always available.
❥ | You would serve well as my Concubine.
❥ | I- I don't know what to say to that.
❥ | Would you serve me as your Queen, Tomas?
❥ | I- *blushes* I can't focus. Yes?
❥ | Would you train me, Empress?
❥ | I'll show you more things than one.
❥ | What are you, Empress?
❥ | I could be yours if you let me.
❥ | That mask covers your handsome face.
❥ | Wait... You think I'm handsome?
──── · · · ❥ KUAI LIANG
❥ | Weren't you once Lin Kuei?
❥ | In another lifetime I was also yours.
❥ | Johnny outed you.
❥ | No he didn't! Wait, what did he say? *glances around worried*
❥ | I hope that fire burns for me.
❥ | Here, let me set you ablaze.
❥ | You’re a sorceress.
❥ | Let me enchant you with my spells.
❥ | I’ll let you be my king if you behave.
❥ | I belong to the Shirai Ryu. I have no need for your trickery.
❥ | You are a warrior of many talents.
❥ | I can show you some that no one has seen before.
──── · · · ❥ LIU KANG
❥ | You're already the queen of Outworld.
❥ | Maybe in another lifetime I could be your queen.
❥ | Even in this forsaken lifetime, your beauty is unmatched.
❥ | You flatter me, Liu Kang.
❥ | You still much to learn about the realms, Empress.
❥ | Then teach me, Liu Kang.
❥ | Will I someday find my King?
❥ | I created one person fit for you this timeline. *smirks*
❥ | Do you still have eyes for Kitana, my lord?
❥ | I only have eyes for you, my Queen.
❥ | Am I to bow before my creator?
❥ | No. But I wouldn't mind you kneeling.
──── · · · ❥ RAIDEN
❥ | How about a sparing match?
❥ | Oh and what will be my prize if I win?
❥ | So, you have a crush on little ol' me?
❥ | What?! Who told you that?!
❥ | I want to know your secrets.
❥ | Hm, maybe I'll tell them to you in my chambers.
❥ | You have been warned, Empress.
❥ | Is that a threat or a promise?
❥ | I would like to assist you, Empress.
❥ | Oh? In what way, Raiden?
❥ | Your sister is pretty.
❥ | I thought you like me, Empress?
© 2023 › SunDo-Li || All Rights Reserved. 🐰 DO NOT Copy, Translate, Re-Upload, or Steal ANY of my work. Thank You!
#mk1#mk1 intro#mk1 fanworks#mk1 bi han#bi han#mk1 x reader#mk1 smoke#lin kuei#mk1 sub zero#mk1 2023#bi han x you#kuai liang#tomas vrbada#tomas x reader#tomas x you#liu kang#raiden#raiden x reader#mk x reader#mk1 intros
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Our Secret
Summary: Jisung has a crush on his best friend's girlfriend.
Pairing: Han Jisung x Minho’s Girlfriend
Genre: Smut
Word Count: 3.3K
Warning: cheating, drinking, flirting, biting, teasing, begging, no protection, oral (f receiving) , fingering, hair pulling, idk if i missed any
He knew it was wrong but oh did it feel so right. The way he fit inside of you, as if you were made for him, washed away any feelings of guilt Jisung may have had. Yes, you were Minhos, but right now you were his. Your fingers gripped the bedsheets and your mouth let out calls of his name. Jisung could never get enough of you, kissing your skin as he fucked you, making sure he didn’t leave any marks on you. He so badly wanted to but Jisung knew if he did he would risk not only hurting you, but his best friend.
~
“I like them a lot Jisung, I think I’m gonna ask them out.”
Jisung didn’t expect Minho to say that at all. He knew his friend could hide his feelings pretty well behind teasing remarks and feined annoyance but not like this. He never thought Minho could also like you and now that Minho said something first he knew he couldn’t act on his crush.
“Go for it, Hyung. I’m sure she’ll say yes.”
That was his first mistake.
His second mistake was hanging out with the three of you at a party after you two started dating. Seeing you in your small black dress that didn’t leave much for the imagination and your short hair tied up leaving your neck on display for him. He drank his mind away and then approached the two of you for the first time of the night even though you all came together. It was obvious all three of you were drunk and Minho was so lost in the music he barely realized Jisungs presence there. You grabbed Jisungs hand and started dancing with him, moving in a way that could enchant anyone.
“I’m gonna get another drink and say hi to Hyunjin, ok?”
You nodded at your boyfriend and he was off. Jisung was unfortunately sober enough to feel slightly awkward being with you hand in hand on the dance floor. His movements stiff, causing you to stop for a second before looking at him with a tilted head and a smile.
“Have you never danced with anyone before, or are you just super fucking stiff when drunk?”
He nervously laughed and looked away before you grabbed his face to look at you.
“I see its the first option.”
Your body came unbearably close to his as you started dancing on him, a smile planted on your face. The eye contact you made caused Jisung to breathe a little heavy as you swayed against him. To make matters worse you slid you arms up your body into the air, and then landed them around his neck, bringing the two of you closer than you had ever been.
“You’re fucking breathtaking.”
His mouth moved before he could even think and before he could even panic you giggled.
“As are you, Sungie. It’s a wonder you’re still single, huh? When’s the last time you even got laid?”
His eyes widened at the question, not used to discussing his sex life with anyone but Minho.
“I’m not sure actually, it’s been a while I guess.”
Your face moved closer to his causing his lips to part in anticipation and nervousness.
“That won’t do.”
Your lips were obscenely close to his and he could feel your breath on his lips as you looked up at him with glazed over eyes. You smiled and looked away, seeing Minho returning from his conversation. You released your arms from Jisungs neck and placed them on his chest, smirking at him as you spoke to Minho.
“Hey babe did you get me a drink too?”
Jisung stood there frozen, watching you step towards Minho and kiss him deeply before looking back at him. You grabbed the drink out of Minhos hand before taking a sip.
“Mmm my favorite. Here Sungie, have some.”
You grabbed his face and brought the cup to his mouth forcing him to drink. A bit of the drink fell from the side of his mouth and you were quick to wipe it off with your thumb.
“Bad boy, don’t waste it.”
Jisung looked over to Minho and sawthat he wasn’t even looking, too invested in his own drink and the music blaring over the speakers. You smiled again with half lidded eyes before returning to Minhos side to dance with him. All Jisung could think was what the actual fuck was that??
~
His next mistake was going shopping with the both of you. Once spotting you two at the malls entrance, Jisung was in a slight panic seeing what you wore. You drove in two different cars, Jisung in his own and Minho in his with you. When you arrived, you were wrapped around Minho’s arm in a crop top, a mini skirt, and platform converse. The whole outfit hugged your body in all the right places and the shoes were the ones Jisung got you for your birthday earlier this year. Seeing him eye you up and down you asked him a question.
“Don’t I look pretty?”
Jisung responded with a light nod, refusing to open his mouth for fear he would say something that would clue Minho in on his racing thoughts. You looked at him with a pout that Minho realized so he pat your head and kissed your forehead.
“Don’t mind him, he has awful taste. You look so pretty baby.”
Hanging out at the mall was fun and the three of you enjoyed the time you spent together. After a while you went to use the bathroom and Minho pulled Jisung to the side.
“I wanna get them a really pretty necklace they liked last time we came here on a date as a surprise. Can you keep them occupied?”
Jisung nodded and reassured that he would be able to, then Minho was off. You exited the bathroom to only see Jisung and he explained Minho went to go get something from the car, which was a good excuse for him to be gone for a whilem seeing as the car was all the way in the lot next to the other side of the mall.
“Oh okay let’s continue shopping then for now and meet up with him later. I wanted to get some more clothes anyway.”
You led him to a store and he followed. Rushing to the womans section, you almost left him behind in excitement. After picking some dresses and skirts, you wanted to go to the dressing rooms to try them on and make sure they fit how you wanted them too. Jisung offered to wait at the cash register but you insisted he came with you and waited to judge the outfits.
The first outfit you tried on was a pink dress, it was super pretty and complemented your skin tone. He clapped and you spun before doing a curtsey and going back in to try on more clothes. You came out in a couple skirts and shirts and he complimented every one of them. After trying on another dress you asked him a question.
“Why didn’t you compliment me earlier but are so willing to now? Did Minho make you nervous?”
“What? No, I just uh like these better so I’m more vocal about it, that’s all.”
You made a hm sound and went back in the dressing room. When trying to take off the dress, you realized the zipper was stuck. You smiled at yourself in the mirror, and feigned an innocent voice.
“Um Sungie? Can you help me I’m stuck in this dress.”
He froze in place and tried to talk to you from outside the door.
“Uh you sure you’re stuck? You can’t get out at all?”
“Yeah I’m really stuck please help me out of this. I don’t wanna break it, it was the last one they had!”
You opened the door slightly, allowing Jisung to push the door open the rest of the way to see you looking sadly at him before turning around and parting your hair while putting you neck down to allow him more access to the zipper.
“Lock the door, I don’t want anyone to see us in here and get the wrong idea.”
He locked it and turned to you who was waiting for his help. HIs hands worked carefully to fix the zipper, budging it until it zipped down slightly.
“I got it, you can unzip it now.”
He backed up as if he was going to leave but you grabbed his wrist, stopping him.
“Please Sungie, do it for me! I don’t wanna rip the dress or mess the zipper up because I can’t see it.”
Hesitantly, he put his hand back on the zipper and slowly started unzipping it. The sleeves fell and you let them, revealing a bit of your bra in the large mirror of the dressing room. You held your hands by your chest to hold it up and not reveal your bra in full. His eyes reverted from the mirror to you back as fast as they could. Revealing your back now, he could see your bra strap and the curve of your back right under his fingertips. The dresses zipper went all the way down further than your panty line and Jisung froze a bit when the lacy garment revealed itself to him. Thankfully it only showed a bit of it and he was finally able to take his hand off the zipper. His mind raced and guilt built up in him as he thought about Minho. His thoughts were cut short when you turned to Jisung and embraced him while thanking him. Your innocent smile didn’t match the way your body pressed up against his in this situation. Breasts almost popping out of your bra and pressed up against his chest, the dress opening more due to your quick movement, allowing more of you to be exposed in the mirror behind the two of you. Jisung stuttered out a “you’re welcome” and separated himself from you before unlocking the door and leaving.
Once you paid for your clothes at the register and left the store, you both spotted Minho at a bench in front of the store. He spotted you too and lifted his phone, showing his location app that the three of you shared. Running up to him, you raised your hands to show him the bags of stuff you got. He smiled at you.
“That’s lovely baby. I got you something too.”
Minho revealed the necklace to you and you put your hands over your mouth in shock.
“Is this what you were covering for?”
You looked over at Jisung and he smiled nervously while scratching the side of his head.
“Oh my God Minho it’s gorgeous! Thank you so much!”
“I’m so glad you like it.”
Minho put the necklace on your neck and you turned around to grab his face and kiss him.
“I have bad news though. Hyunjin called and said he needs a ride to work since his car broke down again.”
Jisung giggled at that before scoffing.
“He really needs to get that piece of shit to a dump and get a new car. I know he can afford one.”
“Eh I guess it has sentimental value since it was his first car so he’s not ready to let go of it. Anyway, since Hyunjin lives on an opposite side of town than you I was wondering if you’d be okay if Jisung took you home since he only lives like ten minutes away from you.”
“Yeah I’m okay with that. How about you Jisung, can I drive with you?”
“Uh yeah of course.”
You kissed Minho before getting in Jisungs car. Jisung disconnected his bluetooth and allowed you to take over his radio like he did everytime you were in the car and you excitedly put on your music. The car ride was a little quiet on Jisungs side but you happily spoke to him. Once you arrived to your house you gave him a kiss on the cheek to thank him for driving you. It wasn’t uncommon for you to do that but it caused his whole body to tense from earlier.
“Hey Jisung can you help me bring my bags in?”
“Oh yeah of course.”
That was his third mistake.
The bags were all in the house and you were climbing on top of a breathless Jisung who you had thrown on your bed. He looked up at you with nervous eyes.
“What about Minho?”
He had already asked this when you first kissed him after you’d closed your room door and you only responded by pressing your lips deeper into his, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth. Now on the bed, you gave him a verbal response.
“Can you keep a secret?”
He nervously shook his head yes.
“Good, so let’s make this our little secret.”
You bent down, kissing him again and moaning into his mouth. Jisung was drunk on your taste and his dominance overpowered his anxiety. He flipped the two of you over on the bed, leaving him on top of you. You gasped in excitement and grabbed him by his shirt to kiss him again. Jisung was finally able to taste you, to take you as his, and he wasn’t going to waste this moment on anxiety. He unlatched his lips from yours to kiss and bite your neck.
“You can’t keep a secret if Minho can see it! Be careful!”
Jisung became a bit more gentle but still continued to lick up your neck and kiss down to your collarbones. He lifted your shirt and bra all at once, revealing your breasts to him. Jisung latched onto your left tit as quickly as he could. He massaged and pinched the right one and switched between them both at will, sometimes latching a little hard and causing you to grab his hair. He had always wondered how sensitive your tits were and now that he knew they were this sensitive, he never wanted to unlatch himself from them.
“Sungie touch me more please.”
You whined out at him and he forced himself to let go of your chest and made his way down to your thighs. He kissed them and squeezed the flesh between his fingers before finally removing your skirt. The panties he had seen earlier were now on full display for him and he couldn’t help but dive down to lick the wet spot that had already formed. You gasped at his touch and he smiled, knowing he was able to make you squirm with such a simple touch. Jisung removed them and quickly put his tongue to good use, causing your back to arch and your hands to find his hair and pull. He lapped at your clit with swift motions and moaned into you, loving the way you tasted on his desperate tongue. Jisungs finger made it way to your opening and nudged at it before entering fully. Another finger entered and the combination of his fingers and his eager tongue gave you that familiar knot in your stomach.
“Fuck Sungie just like that! Ah you feel so good.”
Words almost wimpers, you twitched under him and he internally smiled. His pace kept up and you pulled his hair more as your torso lifted and you felt your orgasm about to rush over you.
“Ah I’m cumming! Fuck!”
Your orgasm erupted on his face and he kept going to help you ride out your orgasm. Jisung honestly didn’t ever want to stop but your next words were enough to make him.
“Fuck me, please fuck me Jisung-ah!”
He lifted his head and fully undressed. You ripped off your previously lifted shirt and sat up to kiss him deeply. The taste of you on your lips made you want him even more, knowing how good he just made you feel.
“Do you have a condom?”
“I don’t but I’m on birth control and don’t mind if you wanna-”
“Raw?”
“Mhm, if you want.”
Jisung crashed his lips on yours once again, so fucking excited to be able to fully be inside of you. He pushed you down and aligned his cock with your entrance, rubbing it slowly along you.
“Please don’t tease Sungie, please just fu-”
He thrusted into you in on quick move, causing you to arch your back and grab the bedsheets. His thrusts started slowly but his movements steadily picked up. Within minutes he had you a moaning mess. You brought him down and wrapped your arms around him, scratching his back with your fingernails, He moaned at the pain of his back and fucked you faster, causing you to dig deeper into his skin. Jisung pushed you away and flipped you over, bringing your hips up and entering you roughly. Your face was buried into the pillows and muffled you but Jisung didn’t like that. He lifted your head by your hair and you moaned louder than you had before. His movements were so rough you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.
“Fuck you feel so good wrapped around my cock. Do you like it baby?”
Your moans were an obvious sign you liked it but he wanted to hear you say it.
“Tell me you like it, no tell me you fucking love it.”
“I fucking love it! Ah I love it!”
With that he pulled your hair harder and you came all over him, tightening around his cock. He felt his orgasm approaching and thrusted a few more times before releasing, pulling out and cumming mostly on your back. He stayed on his knees and lifted his head, eyes closed and mouth open panting. You fell over and smiled, dizzy and drunk on Jisung. He opened his eyes to see you on the bed naked covered in his cum and smiled. His smile was shortlived when he saw your phone light up, showing your wallpaper with Minho and a text from him. You grabbed the phone and casually responded to him before putting the phone back down.
“What’d he say?”
Jisung was nervous Minho somehow knew what you two had just done but you just shrugged.
“He asked if I wanted him to bring me food for dinner and I said yes.”
JIsung panicked, knowing Minho would be coming over soon.
“But I’m here!”
“Yeah, and? We hang out all the time. As long as we arent still in bed naked I don’t think he’ll suspect a thing. Oh, and as long as you don’t tell him, remember this is a secret after all.”
You got up and kissed Jisung before walking to the bathroom with your phone. He quickly got dressed and cleaned up your bed a bit since it was now pretty messy. You retured after peeing and cleaning yourself up and put on your clothes.
“I told him I invited you to eat dinner with us too and he said okay.”
“You want me to stay for dinner?”
You didnt even look up from your phone and Jisung wondered how you could be so casual after all of that.
“Duh, come on Jisung you have dinner with us all the time. Don’t freak out over nothing.”
To Jisung this wasn’t nothing, this was his seeing his best friend after having sex with his girlfriend. This was him lying to his friend, something he has never done. But this time he knew he had to lie, to protect both you and Minho. This had to stay a secret, and he was gonna make sure it did.
#skz smut#stray kids smut#stray kids#stray kids fanfic#han jisung smut#han jisung x reader#lee minho#cheating skz fic#cheating reader
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Snow And Embers
Notes: Uh so I've fallen into my Hunger Games hyperfixation again. This is just something that came to my mind while watching the movie. I needed a refresher from my TWD fic(I have not abandoned that I swear). This leans more heavily to the movie than the books, except for Lucy's eye color, I stuck to the book with that. So spoilers. NOT PROOFREAD. Also, I'm highly of the notion that Coryo did love Lucy but not all love is healthy. His bordered on obsession. And with a tendency for paranoia, it didn't end well.
Pairing: Lucy Gray Baird x Coriolanus Snow (SnowBaird)
Part 2
CW/TW: Spoilers for BOSAS, darkish thoughts, ideas of claiming/possession, Smut!(18+ breeding kink, creampie, fingering, slight somnophilia, very slight inexperienced Coryo).
The first time Coriolanus and Lucy Gray became one, it was slow and euphoric. There had been hesitation for him. As ashamed as he was to admit it, he had never been with anyone, romantically or sexually. He'd spent his life worrying about status, money, and academics. With the fragile state of his academic career due to Dean Highbottom's hatred for him, and the ever looming threat of eviction and starvation, even after the Dark Days, he hadn't had the time nor emotional ability to even attempt either. The beautiful rainbow that was Lucy Gray Baird, was the catalyst that changed everything.
He'd been enchanted by her singing during the Reaping, and initially he thought his interest was simply hope that maybe she could be the key to his family's troubles. That she could be the one to turn his fortune around. Those thoughts turned the moment he watched Lucy Gray pluck a petal from his proffered white rose, and place it on her delicate pink tongue, the two colors contrasting and trapping his gaze. When her lips sealed around the soft sepal, his blue eyes traced the plump flesh, wondering what the skin there tasted like. Would they taste like roses? Or would it be something wholly Lucy Gray?
He'd had to snap himself out of his trance, scolding himself for falling victim to his brain's carnal desires. He was there to be a mentor. He was there to fix his family's status and finally land on top, just like snow was supposed to. For a while this train of thought had worked. Every time his mind wandered to tanned skin and silky hair colored like the rich dark chocolate from his starvation-induced childhood dreams, he would think back to his interaction with Dean Highbottom, the threats, and the reasoning for why he was interacting with the tribute in the first place.
It didn't help matters when Lucy Gray had threaded her fingers into his own when they went to view the arena with the other tributes and mentors. Her palm was sweaty, so was his, but the way their fingers fit together perfectly had his heart beating faster than ever before. He'd looked into her eyes and the fear there had him tightening his grip, a measure of reassurance. His inner Capitolite had reared it's head then, warning him about getting too close to her, a district girl. A tribute at that. One likely to die within the next few days. He'd dropped her hand, almost like the soft creases of her palm were instead the fangs of the snakes she so easily mastered.
Within minutes everything had gone to ruin, the bomb had gone off, flaming rebar fell on top of him, and suddenly he knew he was going to die. He'd called for her, the dust and rubble making his throat and eyes burn. In the haze, he had seen her look towards the exit, she had a chance to escape. Surely this meant she would leave him to be engulfed by the flames on his back. But she hadn't. She had pushed away another tribute who told her to run and had gone to help him. A district girl saving the life of a Capitol boy. It was the kind of propaganda that would have made his grandma'am's heart stop.
Lucy Gray had saved his life. He had to save hers. So he snuck his mother's poison filled compact to her in dead of night. Through the bars he had poured his heart out, not in words of love or passion but of strategy and advice for winning the games. It was all he could do. When she had leaned forward, her lips seeking his through the bars, he had pulled back in shock. As much as he wanted to kiss her, he couldn't. If he did and she died the next day, he wasn't sure he would survive it. Internally, he promised himself that if Lucy Gray won, he would do everything he could to finally find out what she tasted like.
And she had won, his tampering with the snakes and the compact being her lifelines. Despite the fallout from his treason, Coriolanus kept his promise to himself. He'd bribed his way to District 12, unsure if he would even be able to find his rainbow songbird. For all he knew, Gaul could have killed her.
But then he saw her in that bar. Singing so beautifully. When her eyes met his, his heart lept and so did his cock.
The first time they kissed, it was like the world turned on its axis and nothing else mattered but Lucy Gray. She did taste like roses, fresh and floral. And the softness of her lips balanced the slight roughness of his own. He had to leave her, return to base, but he knew that kiss was just the start of something more. Something powerful.
Over the next few weeks, anytime he was able to sneak away from his peacekeeper duties, he was with her. Soft touches, handholding, and hugs turned to bruising grips, roving hands, and passionate kisses. Despite his inexperience, Coriolanus felt like a connoisseur of intimacy when he was with Lucy Gray. She had a bit more experience than him, the idea of another man touching his songbird made his stomach turn but he knew it wasn't something that could be changed. She guided him whenever his feelings of inadequacy crept up. She would push his hesitant hands under her skirt, letting his recently calloused fingers graze over the smooth skin of her thighs. Or press her tongue past his lips and tangle it with his own. Each step a domino collapsing and pushing him to move further with her.
They didn't have sex until the second time they visited the cabin by the lake, that time without the Covey. By some miracle, his unit had been given a weekend of rest and he took advantage of it. As soon as they had stepped into the cabin, their lips had collided and clothes fell to the floor in a trail, leading directly to the one bed in the corner.
Night had fallen, and the only light was a small oil lantern on the bedside table that he had briefly gotten up to light. The flickering flames danced along the contours of Lucy Gray's naked body and he stared at her sleeping form for hours. He was laying on his side, the thin blanket covering his waist, with one hand propping up his head. The short spikes of his hair tickled his palm and he thought about how Lucy Gray had tried so hard to grasp it. He wished it was longer, he could easily imagine how good it would feel to have her tugging at his long curls.
Coriolanus’ blue eyes traveled over Lucy Gray's face. Her dark locks where sprawled over the one threadbare pillow, coiled like snakes from the arena. Occasionally her eyelashes would flutter against her cheek and she would sigh. His heart would stop for a moment, both with happiness and fear. Happiness that he would be able to see her warm gray eyes gazing up at him lovingly, but also fear to be losing that moment of retrospection. His eyes moved from her face, down her neck, and to the top of her breasts. The perfect handfuls were covered by the blanket they both shared, as was the rest of her body. She had one hand laying across her stomach, while the other was tucked under her head.
With a mind of their own, his fingers moved out to lightly stroke the soft skin of her hand. The same ones that had stroked his cock expertly, and had teased their way across his thighs. Needing to see the rest of her, Coriolanus slowly pulled down the blanket until it was laying over her knees. Heat began to pool in his stomach as he saw goosebumps bead on her skin. Her dark nipples peaked in the chilled air and he had to stop himself from running his fingers over the pointed tips. Blue eyes caressed her stomach and moved over the slight curve of her abdomen that led to the thick patch of curls between her legs. She had one leg bent and the other splayed out, giving him a glimpse of the heat that lay hidden by the soft hair that guarded it. Her dusky folds still glistened, even though it had been hours since he'd been inside her. But his full focus was drawn to the pearl of white that sat at her entrance. A small amount of his cum was still there and it made the animalistic part of him purr. He had cleaned between her legs with his shirt shortly after their coupling, but she was still dripping with him. A dark part of his mind wondered if it had taken. If he had claimed her fully.
At the time, they hadn't spoken of contraception. Not that there was much of that available anyways. The Capitol had just barely begun manufacturing any type of birth control again after the war. It was expensive and no one in the districts could afford condoms or anything like that. Even their base commander had told them to be careful during leaves. The last thing they needed was news of Peacekeepers knocking up the district women. It would only bring more rebels to their doors.
He knew the Covey was adept with herbal remedies but he hoped that they didn't have one for this type of thing. It was shocking to him, as he hadn't spent much time thinking about the possibility of having children. His priorities had revolved mostly around the intertwining of his family's status and his education. But now here he lay, his girl by his side, wondering what it would be like to make her his own. To have his seed plant itself deep inside her. She'd be marked by him, her pregnant belly a sign that she belonged only to him. That coal rat Billy Taupe would finally understand that Lucy Gray Baird was his. No one else would dare look at her. And if they did he had no problems with killing them.
Coriolanus painted along her skin with the tips of his fingers, gently rasping them over her puckered nipples. He stared at her breasts and wondered how big they would they get. He imagined them swollen with milk, the tips dripping and the flesh overflowing his hands.
Lucy Gray's stomach was smooth and her hips weren't very wide, but he knew they would adjust to hold his child. The supple skin would become taut and her hips would expand to accommodate their child. Would she get stretch marks? He hoped she did. That way she'd be marked even after giving birth. A beautiful scar to remind her and anyone else who had fully claimed her body.
Drawn again to the small bead of cum at her entrance, Coriolanus ran his fingers through her lower curls and pressed his seed back inside her warm channel with his pointer finger. A low moan escaped Lucy Gray's lips and she clenched around the thin digit. As if her body was trying to pull his seed back inside her. His chest tightened and he looked up to see if she had woken up. But her eyes were still closed. Good. He wanted a few more minutes to indulge in this fantasy. No.. not fantasy. Plan. The animal inside him refused to forget about this. It had made up its mind. Lucy Gray was his. And her body was destined to carry his child.
Gently he removed his finger from inside her, the tip brushing against her clit and causing another moan to leave her parted pink lips. If her singing voice was perfection, her moans were solace for him.
Coriolanus lifted his small corner of the blanket and moved his body over hers, his stiff cock brushing her thighs and settling over her public hair. The slight pricking of the coarse hairs across the tip of him was shocking. He had to stop himself from thrusting against her, seeking more friction. His body was still inexperienced, still desperate for any touch.
His nose brushed hers and his fists caged either side of her face.
“Lucy Gray….”
The rasp of his voice saying her name vibrated across her lips. She woke slowly, the look of sleep and pleasure keeping her lids drooping. As soon as she realized what had woken her up, a small smile crossed her face.
“Coryo.”, she brushed her lips against his. His name sounded like a possession. He didn't want anyone else to say his name. Just like her body belonged to him, his name was hers alone. The twitching of his cock against her slit had her pressing her hips up to tease him. He pushed forward a bit, notching himself at her entrance, her still dripping cunt practically begging him to thrust into her. Lifting one of his hands, he cupped her cheek, and stroked his tumb over the apple tenderly. Her gray eyes latched onto his own, both searching for something unknown in his gaze.
“Mine,” he whispered it, almost lovingly, but with a note of passion and mastery. A declaration of his possession, daring her to contradict him.
Lucy Gray nodded her head minutely, and placed a ghost of a kiss on his chin. Those lips that had bewitched him from the moment he saw them wrapping around that rose petal were soft as silk. Since then he had found that she truly did taste of roses and something smokey, like embers.
Drunk on his floral scent and the need to be filled, she whispered, “Yours, Coryo.”
Darkness clouded Coriolanus’ light blue eyes and she gasped as he thrust to the hilt inside her. The tip of his cock brushed the entrance to her womb and her channel began to pulse around him. Begging him to fill her. Lucy Gray's body instinctively knew what it needed from him.
She wasn't fully his. Not yet. But she would be by the end of the night.
#coryo x lucy gray baird#coriolanus x lucy gray#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x lucy gray baird#snowbaird#lucy gray baird#the hunger games#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#coriolanus snow smut#coryo snow x lucy gray#ballad of songbirds and snakes spoilers#bosas spoilers#tbosas spoilers
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Gentle Giant (Homelander x Reader)
1k | g/t, fluff, hurt/comfort, gender neutral reader | Fic Directory
For @homelanderbutbig bc they spoil us with their 8ft tall cinnamon roll. highly recommend them if you enjoy big homelander!
As a man already larger than life, one would think Homelander would adjust well to suddenly being that way in the literal sense. One blast of energy from a rogue supe suddenly had him standing eight feet tall and finding that the world, which was already unequipped to handle him before, was far too small to accommodate him now. At least his suit had also grown in the blast.
He had hoped it would be temporary. Maybe he would shrink up, finally fit between doorways again. Be able to lay on the couch or in bed without half his body dangling over, but such was not the case. After a full month went by, he gave up hope.
He was just going to have to be big now.
That didn't stop him from still getting down on himself. If people looked at him as a horror before, they did so even more now that he was gargantuan. The once metaphorical ants to him were now literal.
But it got to him.
Day in and out, seeing those fearful expressions… all the judgment. It ate at him. Standing before his now ten foot tall mirror, he would unleash a tirade of self deprecating thoughts and insults. His hands were too big to hold, lips too big to kiss, body too big for even a fucking hug.
His dreams of a house with a white picket fence and a happy, normal life were dashed entirely. He would never be normal. Not only was he always going to be Vought's plaything, but he was cursed to forever be a fucking circus act giant.
What more could life take from him? Must he always be robbed of peace?
The answer was yes. That is, until you came along.
A new hire. His new assistant.
Your job was to do what he no longer could. Anything too small for his massive hands was your responsibility on top of a normal assistant's duties. Schedule his meetings, coordinate his day, get him whatever he wants. You made the world as normal as possible for him.
It didn’t take long at all for him to get attached.
Your comparatively short stature became endearing to him beyond words. The way you’d trail after him, help him, stick up for him… He adored you. You were the first of his assistants to not bail in the first month, and the fact you stuck around for even longer left him nothing short of amazed.
He really wishes you wouldn’t have just barged in. But why wouldn’t you? You knew you were safe with him. You knew you were allowed unlimited access to his space. Other than just flat out kissing you, he’s practically already professed his love with how much leniency he’s given you with what’s his.
“Are you okay?”
His head practically whips over to the side. He never heard you enter, never saw you in the reflection. How much had you heard? God, what you must think…
“Homelander..?”
He stands there stunned and still. He was supposed to be your gentle giant. He wanted you to think he was nice, he was sweet, he was good, he was–
“Hey,” you coo, approaching him. You take one of his big, gloved hands in yours and look up at him so sweetly. “C’mon, big guy.” You say, gently tugging him toward the oversized couch.
He follows without an ounce of resistance, a little enchanted at how big guy sounds so much better when you say it. It doesn’t stink of the same disapproval when the others call him that.
When he sits beside you, he’s unsure of what to do next. When he was smaller– normal– he would lay his head in Madelyn’s lap. He wishes he could do that with you. How your hands might feel running through his undercut, the sight of your smile, the twinkle in your eyes… He wishes he could find it in himself to just take what he wants. But not with you.
He wants you to want it just as much as he does.
You’re so sweet as you coax his worries from him. His confession starts as a mumble, eyes cast to the floor lest he see a hint of amusement at his suffering. He knows you never would, but there’s still a part of him that fears that same old thing that always happens. He’s baited with affection, hooked, then cast out when he’s either too much or they get bored.
“You’re not too big,” you tell him. “But I understand.”
Your hand pats his and he grasps it without a second thought. It looks so small compared to his and he finds that he likes that. In one hand, he has the power to shield you from the world. He could wrap you in an embrace and protect you from anything.
Whatever words he thinks he could say are stuck in his throat, lips parted to release what won’t come out. Instead, he reaches over and lifts you effortlessly, resting you in his lap. He hugs you as gently as physically possible. He’s terrified of hurting you, especially now that he’s so big. One hand at your waist, the other splaying against the back of your head.
Your arms wrap gingerly around him– well, as much as they can given his stature. But you do something else that strikes his heart and brings tears to his eyes. You mimic his hold.
Your hand wanders into the taper of his undercut and you let your fingers dance in the softness.
“See?” You ask. “Not too big. I can hug you just fine.” You squeeze a little tighter for emphasis. “Not scary, either.”
He huffs a soft chuckle against your shoulder at that. At least someone didn’t think so. Probably the most important person.
He held you like that for some time. He didn’t want to let go and you never moved away. Your fingers continued dancing at the nape of his neck, moving up to thread through his undercut with a tenderness he swears he’s never felt before. You make him feel normal. You make him feel good. Peaceful, even.
Your smiles and contented breaths tell him that he does the same for you. When you eventually doze off, his heart clenches with something so warm and pure that he swears he could cry. He’d never admit that a few tears did find their way out. Well, maybe he’d admit it to you.
After all, you make his heart sing.
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The Hike
After about an hour or so of hiking, Adam had reached the foot of Mount Servus Masculus. He stared up at the mountain with a confident grin. “This is gonna be easy. I’ve got no idea what the hell those local’s were talking about.” He spouted. Over the years Adam had climbed numerous mountains both tall and dangerous, snowy and windy. He’d traveled all over the world climbing different mountains and one day he even planned on getting to the peak of Everest! Compared to that and most other mountains he’d done recently, this ‘Mount Servus Masculus’ seemed like child’s play. Looking at it from where he was, he figured he’d be up and down it in no time. Yet for some reason none of the locals would dare go near the mountain let alone climb it. Apparently there was some strange superstition around it. Adam didn’t give it the time of day though. It was just your typical ‘Oooooh anyone that tried to climb it was never been seen again’ mumbo jumbo. He’d heard it all before. It didn’t scare him then and it wouldn’t scare him now.
The confident hiker took a swig of water from his bottle before beginning his journey up the mountain. He followed along what looked to be a very old and overgrown path through the trees that covered the lower half of the mountain. Due to this it wasn’t long before he pulled out his machete and started hacking through the thick brush blocking his path. All the while he could hear birds and insects chirping around him in a song-like manner. It was kind of beautiful actually.
Adam pressed on until the path finally started to open up a little more, allowing his trusty machete to have a break. This also gave him a better chance to admire the scenery of the mountain forest and once again he couldn’t think for life of him why everyone was so afraid of it. Everything was so lush and vibrant. The grass was so very green and the plants growing around the trees were an array of so many different colours. And the way the wind gently whistled through the air… it was so enchanting. It almost made him wish he lived here.
Before he found himself reaching the edge of lower forest and entering a more rocky terrain. He could tell there were more trees high up but he’d need to climb a little before getting there. Even as he escaped the beauty of the forest however, the wind continued to blow around him in a strange manner. Whistling even clearer now in a way that could almost be described as a song of nature. He was so encapsulated by the sound that he’d failed to notice how his previously well fitted and even a little baggy clothes had begun to feel much tighter.
The path had become much clearer now with a winding trail that gradually led Adam further up the mountain. As he wandered up the trail, it felt as though an invisible hand was tugging him along. Encouraging him to keep walking. Encouraging him to reach the top of the mountain because doing so would make him feel oh so good. Encouraging him to take off his backpack and leave it on the side of the trail next to all the other backpacks. Encouraging him to slip off his waterproof coat because it’s far too warm for that…
At some point he found himself looking down to see he’d taken off not only his coat but also the jacket underneath, leaving him in just a tight black t-shirt. He should’ve been freezing cold and yet the wind swirling around him was so warm and relaxing. His sleeves were starting to ride up his growing biceps while his pecs plumped up considerably with muscle. The rational part of his brain was screaming at him that this wasn’t normal but the whispers of wind only told him to keep walking. To keep climbing. To keep growing. And he listened.
With every step he took, Adam’s muscles pulsed. Bulking up ever so slightly with each passing second. His whole body growing thicker and stronger until the winder whispered at him again. Telling him to rip off his shirt. “Ggrrrahhh!” Adam let out deep roar as he tore the t-shirt wide open before throwing the remains of the ground with a grunt and continuing his ascent.
He didn’t know when it’d happened but at some point he’d also taken off his boots and socks. Leaving him walking along the mountain trail barefoot. Now all that was left was a threateningly tight pair of trousers and underwear. But soon enough, as he reached what looked like an old bridge that stretched over a creek, Adam found himself compelled once again to strip just as the song of the mountain winds commanded. Kicking off his trousers at last before crossing the other side of the bridge in nothing but a tight pair of blue underwear.
Eventually Adam found himself face to face with a wall of boulders. It didn’t seem as though the trail continued any other way around it which could only mean that his one option was to climb. And climb he did. Making sure to get a good grip with both his hands and feet on each sturdy piece of rock before pushing himself higher.
Once again part of his rational mind screamed at him, saying that doing this without any of his gear whatsoever was extremely dangerous but deep down he knew the warm comforting winds swirling around him at all times would keep him safe. And so he shook off any silly thoughts before continuing to climb. Feeling the wind around him grow stronger the higher he went.
Soon enough he found himself reaching the top of the wall of rock. As he did Adam turned and looked towards the Sun in the distance, shining bright upon the land below as he smiled. “Be free” the wind whispered to him softly. Then without a second thought he reached down and yanked his underwear off before tossing them off the ledge and watching as they blew away, almost symbolic of how the last of his free will was about to be drained…
And yet all of a sudden Adam felt the strange wind that’d been controlling him somehow disperse in an instant as the hiker was immediately hit with a wave of clarity. “W-what the fuck am I doing and- My body!? What happened to me!?” Adam screamed in confusion as he cock flopped between his legs, confused not only as to why the hell he’d undressed himself but also to how the fuck he’d gotten so buff! His arms were so thick and powerful with muscle that bulged with every movement. His back and shoulders had broadened significantly and his chest had grown some decent muscle tits with an incredibly sensitive pair of nipples to match. It was insane! Even his ass had grown into a huge muscular bubble butt now! And as crazy as it all was, he couldn’t help but stop and admire his new and improved body.
His admiration of his newly sculpted body was soon cut short however as the wind rushed back in an instant, sending Adam straight back into trance even deeper than before. This time it felt as though an invisible pair of lips had wrapped themselves around his cock and were sucking on it gently as they guided him slowly towards an opening in another forest higher up the mountain. Almost like he was being tugged along by his cock while being sucked off. Of course the enchanted Adam didn’t question this one bit as he allowed his dick to lead the way while failing to notice how, despite being fully hard, it still seemed to be growing longer and thicker somehow.
Unlike when he’d made his way through the forest lower down the mountain, this time a clear pathway made itself visible. Leaves and branches actively moving out of Adam’s way without him having to lift a finger as if they were alive. Now allowing him easy entry to continue ascending until he reached wherever the wind was taking him.
After about an hour of walking and having his now monster dick edged constantly the whole way, Adam finally reached an opening in the forest. He’d reached the peak it seemed and what he saw was something nobody would’ve believed had they not seen it with their own eyes. There was an entire campsite of hunky naked men! Some of them were simply lying around, displaying their bodies, others were actively flexing and admiring themselves while other were straight up fucking each other raw and filling one another’s holes with thick cum. Normally this would be enough to have Adam running for the hills but the wind reassured him that this was all normal. That he belonged here now. He silently complied before walking into the testosterone filled camp, his hard sensitive cock bobbing up and down with every step.
“Ah there you are. Adam is it?” Called a somewhat familiar voice. Adam turned his head to see a man sitting on what looked to be some kind of throne. He was a naked hunk just like all the other men. Huge, hairy and muscled with dark hair and a big bushy beard the seemed surprisingly well kept despite him living up on a mountain it seemed. He was currently being worshipped by two other thick meatheads as well. One of which was even hairier than he was with a coating a blonde fur covering his large body while the other one was a handsome ginger that seemed much less hairy however he more than made up for it with his enormous ass! And of course both men also had nice thick beards which seemed to be a running theme in this camp. Hell even Adam’s own beard had grown thicker and longer on his journey. “I was wondering how long it would take you to get here. It’s been about a year since we’ve had any fresh meat.” He continued. That’s when it hit Adam. This man. It was him. The whole time. The voice whispering in his ear. The wind telling him what to do and think. It was all him! “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll feel right at home around here soon enough.”
Every ounce of what was left of Adam’s free will was screaming out in distress. Telling him to get away as fast as possible. Yet his body wouldn’t move. Only continuing to stand before this king of hunks with the fattest hard on. Unfortunately for Adam however, this man wasn’t a king but rather a powerful wizard and as such was able to hear those inner thoughts his new recruit was having.
“Oh? You’re still resisting?” The man said as if it were comical. “Boys. Drain him dry.” He commanded and just like that the two men that’d been worshipping him turned to face Adam with lustful grins on their faces before immediately getting to work. Kissing, licking and groping each and every part of Adam’s body while they teased him with theirs. He tried to resist as much as he could but when the ginger one started waving his giant fat muscle ass in front of Adam, basically pressing it against the throbbing cock, he just couldn't stop himself from slamming his cock inside!
“That’s it boy! Drain those balls and your free will along with em!” The wizard shouted and with all the edging Adam had already received, that encouragement was all he needed. Moments later Adam let out an almost animalistic roar as he blew the fattest load of his life inside the other hunk’s tight hole while simultaneously submitting to this hunky wizard. Any will of his own was now completely erased and replaced with nothing but thoughts of muscular men, dicks and ass. Along with his free will he also shot out a big chunk of his intelligence as well, dumbing him right down until he was cursed to be a horny himbo on top of this mountain for the rest of his life. Breeding and being bred to no end as that was his purpose now.
“Incredible work you two!” Adam’s new master praised the two men that’d made him bust and submit. “Now how about you both go and show our new friend around the camp huh? I’m sure everyone is excited to get to know him better and I bet Adam is just excited to meet everyone else, isn’t that right Adam?” He asked with a smirk.
Adam simply gave the wizard a dumb smile before replying. “Yes sir. I can’t wait.” And with that the two men interlocked their arms with Adam’s and led him off to meet all the other horny men in the camp of whom he’d be getting to know very well, very soon. The Wizard couldn’t help but grin maliciously as he watched his newest member begin integrating into the small society he’d created. He couldn’t help but wonder how this new recruit would fair in the upcoming tournament he planned to hold on which man was going to be his next host. After all it’d been over a year since the last so it was about time he switch things up again…
To be continued?…
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Rook, Ortho: Princess Power
BRUH 💀 Go figure, giving the guy obsessed with beauty two of the least flattering screenshots in his background frames… But hey, his groovy is very different from everyone else’s so far! ^^ Very relaxed and peaceful.
Cbjssbjsjskendb new tidbits about pre-Pomefiore Rook?? He used to cut his own hair with a knife and focused on keeping his bangs out of his line of sight… and he wasn’t as confident about his style (mood). It’s also interesting to know that he started doing ballet on Vil’s recommendation, and that has helped a lot with his posture, working out muscles he doesn’t normally use, and appreciating the art of performances. We love Pomefiore out here breaking gender norms 👊
A Tale as Old as Time.
Rook drew out a longing sigh, gently easing into the quiet of the museum. The soft sound lingered, coiling around his fingers like thread from a spool. It, too, did not wish to part ways with the stunning beauty laid out bare before it.
A fair maiden was framed in shining platinum. Hair black as ebony, lips as red as the rose, and skin as white as snow... Truly, she was the fairest in all the land.
Her graceful frame was folded, kneeling on the forest floor to greet the woodland creatures that had gathered. The pale yellow skirt of her gown spilled out, blue bodice and puff sleeves fitted well by her figure. Her face round and gentle, in spite of the high collar encircling it, crowed by a petite red bow.
Here was pure innocence, a young girl reveling in nature.
“Beauté,” he marveled—to no one in particular, but such beauty warranted verbal acknowledgement.
“It seems that this painting has captured your interest, Rook Hunt-san!” a voice chirped. A neon blue light emanated from the darkness, accompanied by the silver flash of metal.
“Bonjour!” Rook greeted Ortho. "I must confess, I have been enchanted by this particular work of art! The brush strokes, masterful! The composition, immaculate!! The subject—oh, how it makes my heart quiver with nostalgia!! I am a man close to being moved to tears!!”
Ortho curiously glanced at the girl and her animal friends. No strong emotions arose within up from him. Perhaps he did not feel as much, or perhaps Rook felt too much. “Is there a sentimental experience or memory you have related to this painting…?”
“Oui! It is a tale as old as time.” Rook gestured to the snow white young lady. “They say that this maiden was a princess forced to flee from her home country, as a hostile presence threatened her life. She retreated into the woods and found comfort in a humble life there. Her tenacity is most admirable!!”
“Tenacity… That’s the value that Pomefiore was founded on!” Ortho, floating overhead, beamed at Rook. “I understand why you would like that story. It has a good moral that sticks with you.”
“That is the beauty of telling tales! They inspire those who hear of it, ensuring that the spirit of the story is never truly extinguished.” The huntsman’s eyes held a keep glint to them. “Tell me, Ortho-kun. What do you believe makes a princess?”
The boy blinked. A split second, and he had already input the term into an internal search engine, the formal definition loaded up to recite.
“Prin-cess, noun. The daughter of a monarch or wife to a prince. A woman having sovereign power.”
“An efficient, succinct answer!” Rook applauded, his cheer never faltering. “However, my desire is to know your interpretation. In Ortho-kun’s own words, what makes a princess?”
“My own…?” The words stretched, unsure, on his tongue. Ortho hesitated—seeking, processing, and analyzing. Rook’s heartbeat sounded where there was the space for the boy to think.
Then, finally, Ortho spoke.
“From what I’ve observed in movies and books, the princess is a pop culture icon. She’s usually presented as a role model for little girls. Someone who is beautiful, dainty, and composed, wearing a pretty dress and a glittering crown."
A pause. Ortho assessed Rook’s hard-to-read, bright expression.
“… Is that closer to the response you were looking for, Rook Hunt-san?” he asked.
To this, the third year’s lips quirked. “There is no correct or incorrect answer! I was curious to see your perspective. Everyone holds one that differs, lenses of all designs and colors with which to see the world through! You have my most heartfelt thanks for sharing your view with me.”
"Oh, I see! You're collecting data from a variety of sources to compare to a standard." The android (literally) lit up from within. "Let me ask the same back! Rook Hunt-san, what do you think makes a princess?"
"Mon dieu! You've set my own trap upon me," Rook teased.
The Beautiful Queen, the Fair Maiden, Vil, his peers... So many fragments of beauty in his collection. Plucked, collected, hoarded.
He ran a finger along his chin, contemplating. The thoughts assembled like a collage. Ideas taken, cut up, and pasted together into a new, glorious artwork.
"A princess can be many things," Rook declared with certainty. "They are a princess to their very core, even when their power is stripped from them or they are dressed in only ashes and rags. What defines them is not royal heritage or political influence, but the strength of their character, their values and virtues. They are not bound by a singular trait, but are aspirations to all in their own ways."
Ortho's eyes swelled. "Eh...? That's so broad! By your definition, anyone could be a princess—even you or I!”
The huntsman threw his head back and laughed. "Broad it may be, but I am of the opinion that we all have it in us to live up to the title~”
He indicated the woman in the platinum frame. Ortho’s gaze obediently followed. "Even without a kingdom to call her own, she remained kind-hearted rather than turn to cruelty. That is why she was, and always will be, a noble soul. A princess who puts out good into the world.”
“Rook Hunt-san…”
“Ortho-kun!” Rook dramatically extended an arm to him. He was practically sparkling in the dim room. “I, too, endeavor to put out as much beauty as what is gifted to me! That is my one true calling as the Hunter of Love: to not only seek out beauty, but to cultivate and to contribute to it!”
Ortho silently stared. Nii-san did warn me that Rook Hunt-san could be eccentric, but… maybe there’s some meaning to be found in it.
Cutting through the numbers and the formulas that governed him was a fuzzy warmth. Not the familiar jolt of electricity that powered his circuits. It was too wild, too unpredictable.
Something undeniably human.
Ortho let out a giggle. "Hehe. Then you must be a princess too!"
Rook's mouth formed a small "o". Unsubtle surprise—or perhaps purposefully exaggerated. "Me? Whatever makes you think that?"
"Strength of character!" Ortho parroted mischievously. "I've never met someone as uplifting as you are. Rook Hunt-san is the type of person that sees a princess in everyone."
The boy lowered himself to a few centimeters off of the ground, pretending to dip into a curtsey. "Your majesty!"
"Fufufu. You're quite charming yourself, Princess Ortho-kun!" Rook bent into a deep bow. "Most clever in all the land, computing complex problems in the blink of an eye!”
Upon straightening, the third year laid both hands over his heart. He lifted his head toward the painting of the fair maiden in the forest. A serene smile at his lips.
It was as if he was pledging his allegiance, making a vow. A worshipper at the altar to pray.
“May we all live happily ever after,” Rook whispered raptly, “like the princesses of old.”
Forever and ever.
#twst#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#disney twst#Rook Hunt#Rook birthday takeover#spoilers#something no one asked for#twst scenarios#twst imagines#twisted wonderland imagines#twisted wonderland scenarios#Ortho Shroud#I hope y'all notice but Rook was basically describing what makes a Disney 'princess'#since not all of them in the lineup are actually royalty
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Reborn into BG3: Chapter 11
You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.
Chapter 11: It's time to visit Auntie Ethel and thank her for helping you out with your hand. It's only polite. Hangovers, redcaps and monster hunters won't stop Tav from thanking a kind old lady!
Word count: 4.1K
A/N: The word count really got away from me on this one.
The next morning you can’t remember too many specifics about the night. You have the blurry picture of Karlach laughing, sitting by the water with Wyll, and someone laying in a pool of blood. You shiver at the incomplete memory.
Despite your hangover you’re chosen to go out with Tav, Astarion, and Wyll to go visit Auntie Ethel. No amount of protests are able to keep you at camp, because Tav assured you there was no fighting and you were just going to thank a kind old lady for her help! It’s only polite!
Halsin still had things to clear up at the grove so rather than wait around for him you were volun-told to make the trip. And since you couldn’t say what Auntie Ethel truly is, nor warn them about the Gur bounty hunter…you went along.
As you walk down the hill beside the blighted village you’re expecting to see the hag on the road with Mayrina’s brothers. But they’re not there, and neither is the basket of poison apples.
The illusion of a beautiful sunny land isn’t there, either. Instead you find yourselves in the swamp, the smell of stagnant water and algae strong, as well as blood. It would be easy to miss, you’re not sure how you can tell the scents apart yourself, but it’s there.
“Not quite what I pictured when she said to visit her teahouse,” Wyll says. He’s looking at the dilapidated bridge and debris spread around.
“Seems like a good point to turn around,” Astarion suggests. “I’d prefer not to get my boots wet.”
“It’s just water.” Tav starts moving through the deeper water that flows through the swamp before the broken bridge that leads to the island. Begrudgingly, the vampire follows.
Wyll steps into the water and offers you his hand to help you across. You take it gingerly and step forward, only to be met with solid resistance from what should be liquid. You both look down, your foot atop the water.
You put more weight on it, adding your other leg and letting go of Wyll’s hand. “I guess Gale was right about the enchanted boots.”
Walking on water seems excessive for someone from a city like Baldur’s Gate. But after a couple more careful steps and a few jumps you laughed. For a brief moment your worries and hangover are gone as you hop around on top of the little creek, fascinated by the murky gap between you and the earth. You spin in a circle then quickly steady yourself, dizzy, but also because you notice the three men you’re travelling with are grinning at you.
You clear your throat and cross your arms, heading to dry land. “Sorry, that’s just…cool.”
There’s a certain sparkle in Tav’s eyes that tells you he desperately wants to do the same. You tell him, “I’ve seen your feet, they won’t fit.”
His sparkle fades at the same time his tail dips towards the ground.
“Braaaaagh.”
The sound makes you flinch. On the little island are the redcaps, apparently still thinking they’re disguised as sheep. Two are atop the rocky hill in the middle, while a third wanders near the water. It makes another strange sound that’s supposed to be a “baaaaah”.
Tav approaches it, squats down, and with complete seriousness lets out a loud, “Baaaaah!”
Wyll hides a snicker behind one hand and that’s when you finally notice it. He has horns and a red eye.
“You have horns!” you shout thoughtlessly.
“Well, you were properly thrashed last night, weren’t you?” Astarion questions. “And even this morning? Or are you just blind?”
“I, uh, sorry Wyll…” You’re about to ask when Mizora showed up but think better of it. “What…”
“I wondered why you didn’t ask last night,” Wyll says. There’s a hint of a laugh in his voice, but the sadness over his change is still there. “I was tasked with killing Karlach, and since I haven’t, I’ve paid the price. My patron Mizora…”
You’re given a quick rundown of Mizora visiting him when he was with Lae’zel and Shadowheart.
At the end of his story you ask, “So last night you had…”
You gesture at his face, and maybe the innocence of the question is what makes him smile. “I’m afraid so.”
“I am so sorry,” you repeat. At least you had an excuse for not noticing last night, but you were so used to seeing him in game you didn’t give it a second thought this morning.
“It’s not your fault. It was my decision.”
“No, I mean—well I’m sorry for that, too—but I’m sorry I didn’t notice. I’m so selfish, I was moping over nothing while you were—are—in pain.” You bite down on your thumb nail and try to remember talking to him by the water but it’s so blurry now. Not only were you moping over imaginary problems, he went out of his way to make you feel better when he had very real, life altering things to deal with.
“I appreciate that,” Wyll tells you.
“But—“
Wyll holds up a hand. “I have seen enough to know that you truly didn’t notice. Not because you were too selfish but because you…”
“Because I…?” you ask.
Wyll shifts uncomfortably.
“Because you’re naive,” Astarion says. “And I say this with love, darling, a little—oblivious.”
“Astarion,” Wyll warns.
“I didn’t say dim this time.”
“Astarion!”
“I am not stupid!” you shout. The redcap startles, hollow eyes on you. “I just don’t…I don’t know things about…things.”
You frown. They’re talking about you when you’re not around? You hadn’t considered that. Of course they did—they talked about each other, too, so why not you?
“To clarify,” Tav adds, “only Astarion called your dim.”
“You did jump in front of a loaded crossbow for a goblin.” Astarion arches a brow at you, probably thinking how you had called yourself stupid at the time.
Your frown turns to a pout. You grumble something about moving on from the subject in hopes of never having to discuss it again. You begin to walk around the redcap with a wide gap, eyeing it warily.
“Now you’re afraid of sheep?” Astarion asks.
“No,” you reply. You look at the vampire quizzically. “But that’s clearly not a sheep.”
The men exchange confused glances. You’re very tired of getting those looks.
“It’s a redcap?” you say to them. “Isn’t it? I’m pretty sure that’s what they’re called.”
Wyll studies the redcap—or sheep as he sees it—as it moves towards you. It lets out an awkward sound between a growl and a bray, but when you don’t reply it’s sneer deepens. There’s a shift in the air, a static shock that stretches around the area in what you can only guess is magic.
“Ohhhh, a redcap,” Tav says. He takes two steps forward, pulls his right leg back then thrusts it forward to kick at the creature. His boot connects with its middle and despite the weight of the redcap it soars through the air.
It goes so far you only hear a distant splash of water. Astarion claps at the distance.
The other redcaps are not quite as entertained by Tav’s actions. They screech from the hilltop, one jumping down while the other moves its hands in the air. Roots tangle around yours and Tav’s legs, locking you in place. The one now on your level charges towards you only to be sent flying by a red bolt from Wyll—eldritch blast.
Astarion lazily throws his dagger at the one on the hill and when the blade lands in its eye socket the vines around you shrivel and die. You step out, shaking each leg of any remaining debris.
“So you saw through the illusion,” Wyll states.
You survey the area, that static ring gone. All you can offer is a shrug—you passed the perception check you guess. But you can’t tell them that.
Tav loots the bodies of a small amount of gold and alchemical ingredients while Astarion retrieves his dagger. Wyll offers theories as to how you were able to see the redcaps, but it all comes back to the enchantment on your clothes. Whatever protection they gave you from harm could be linked to the fact you haven’t had to clean them yet—they still appear pristine despite the blood and dirt you’ve lain in. In fact, you haven’t felt the need to even wash the sweat from your skin. Powerful enchantments indeed.
Tav leads the group forward to Auntie Ethel’s house, all of them a little more suspicious of the old woman now that the swamp is no longer disguised. After the elation of walking on water you’d forgotten about the Gur waiting around the corner. As you approach the bottom of the hill he’s waiting on, you grab Astarion’s sleeve between your index finger and thumb. “Maybe we should wait here.”
“What’s wrong?” Wyll asks. You don’t let go of Astarion’s sleeve even when he tries to pull away. You wet your lips, eyes darting between the vampire and the direction of the Gur. Just a few more steps and he’d be able to see you; he can probably already hear you.
You tug on the sleeve again. “Ast—you should stay here.”
He finally yanks out of your grip and smooths the sleeve where you’d been holding. “And why should I do that?”
Because there’s a hunter around the corner looking for you and he might actually recognize you. Because things are slightly different than in the video game I remember in my past life where you’re a character and not a person.
Because I don’t want you to have to remember how you died and that you can’t escape Cazador, not yet anyway.
You can’t find a reasonable answer.
Astarion huffs out a sigh. “Is this one of your weird feelings Karlach was going on about? Am I about to die if I take another step?”
You flinch back. “What? No, I just…what are you talking about?”
“You seem to know when death is coming,” Astarion explains. “The goblin, then Arka—who confessed her suicidal plan in a drunken stupor last night by the way, to her friend right outside my tent. Ugh, I had to send them away just so I could get some sleep.”
You look at Tav and Wyll, the vague image of Arka laying in a pool of blood coming to mind.
Astarion adds, “You sniff out death like a bloodhound.”
“I just have a bad feeling,” you finally mumble.
“It’s okay,” Tav says. “If anything tries to hurt Astarion I’ll take care of it.”
You smile as he gives you a thumbs up, wishing you could believe him invincible.
“Let’s go see if we get to kill something, now,” Astarion says excitedly.
“Perhaps some precaution is in order,” Wyll suggests. “Tav and I will take a look first and signal if it’s safe. Agreed?”
Astarion rolls his eyes but nods. “Don’t have all the fun without me.”
Tav and Wyll move ahead and around the corner. You hear their voices as they speak with the Gur, but can’t make out the words. Then, Tav’s head appears around a rock and he waves you over. He’s smiling at least, which probably means he wasn’t told anything about what the man is hunting.
You keep yourself a step ahead of Astarion as you follow Tav. Once at the top of the hill the Gur hunter nods to you as greeting.
“He’s a monster hunter,” Wyll says to you. Like that is going to somehow comfort you, even if you didn’t know what you know.
Astarion questions what terrible creature he’s hunting and the scene is triggered. You gulp as the Gur says he’s hunting a vampire spawn named Astarion, and you can’t help but notice the look Wyll sends you. It’s a mix of apologetic, confusion, and concern. Concern for you or Astarion, you aren’t sure.
The hunter mentions he needs Astarion alive.
“Well here he is,” Tav says, waving a hand at the vampire beside you. “This is Astarion.”
“What?” You and Astarion shout the word at the same time, gawking at Tav. You step to the left and in front of Astarion.
“What are you doing?” you question.
“Yes,” Astarion agrees, “what in the hells do you think you’re doing?”
“It can’t be…?” the Gur says.
“But he is looking for you,” Tav says innocently. “And he wants you alive.”
“That doesn’t make it better!” you shout. You grip your staff with both hands, ready to hit someone—and that someone might be Tav.
Your fury at the tiefling in that moment almost overshadows the phantom limb as it reaches out into the swamp behind you. Almost. Something…twitches. It’s not you, nor that strange feeling in your head, but something moves. You can feel it, slow at first but getting faster as feet drag through mud. You feel grimy water on your skin, the need to follow orders—your orders. It’s not you feeling this, someone else is, not unlike the connection the tadpole gave you.
The Gur pulls his crossbow from his back and tries to aim at you, or Astarion behind you, but he isn’t given the chance when something launches over your head and onto him. He screams as the creature bites his jugular, blood squirting—squirting!!—from the wound. You shout and jump back only to collide with Astarion. He sets his hands on your arms to balance you, and then pushes you out of the way as he watches the Gur get killed by—
“Didn’t we kill those little things?” Astarion asks, pointing at the redcap that tears into the hunter's body. It’s moved on from his neck, now clawing at his stomach. You watch on, eyes wide and unblinking, breath held in your chest. Another redcap, this one missing an eye, hobbles past you and joins his companion.
“We did,” Wyll confirms.
You’re holding your staff in front of you, still ready to whack someone until the Gur stops struggling. You let out the breath you were holding. When you finally blink you see that the eyes on your staff are glowing a lovely violet.
The redcaps grunt, facing you now that their task is complete. Your eyes dart between the staff and them, and back again. “Please tell me I didn’t do that.”
“I think you may have,” Wyll says. “And it seems you may be a necromancer of some sort; you didn’t even need to utter a word to bring the redcaps here and do your bidding.”
“That,” you say, pointing to the corpse, “is not my bidding.”
But you can’t deny that you feel a string of connection to the redcaps now—puppet strings. Your strings, using them like marionettes. And you can’t deny the way the redcaps watch you like they’re waiting for your next command. You want to drop the staff, but your body won’t listen. Because it has to be the staff, right? It’s cursed or enchanted to let you raise the dead! Finally you let go of the wood and let it fall to the ground with a clatter.
But the redcaps stare on.
“It’s okay.” Wyll tries to comfort you but you’re having none of it.
“No, it’s not okay!” you yell. You point at the body again. “I just killed that guy!”
“And for Astarion, no less,” Tav chimes in. His voice brings you back, somewhat grounding you from your hysteria.
“And you!” You point to the tiefling. He flinches back at your fury, having the gall to look innocent with his wide eyes and tail tucked. “Why did you tell him about Astarion?”
Tav doesn’t get to answer when one of the redcaps launches itself at him. He’s quicker to react than the Gur and grabs it before it can claw or bite out his throat, and uses the momentum to swing around and throw it about as far as he kicked the first one.
You picture a string between you and the redcaps, and then a pair of scissors snipping them away. There’s a moment of hesitation in the remaining redcap, but it soon falls over. Dead, again.
You sniffle, holding back the burning tears that begin to line your lower lashes. “He was going to hurt Astarion.”
Maybe Tav had a plan and that was why he told the truth. Or maybe he just can’t help but be honest, thinking he could bargain with the Gur into leaving Astarion alone. But you can’t wrap your head around it. And rather than focusing on the glowing eyes of the staff, that have now faded, the fact you just killed a man with two undead redcaps, you focus on your anger at Tav. It’s so much easier to be angry than sad.
You step towards him, pull back your foot, and kick him in the shins with all your might. He has leather boots on, and he’s a barbarian, so he probably doesn’t feel it much, but you kick him again.
He hops away on one foot, grabbing at his minor injury. “I’m sorry!”
“He was gonna take Astarion!” you shout. You step towards him only to feel two hands on your shoulders, keeping you in place.
“Perhaps this argument can wait,” Wyll says. He doesn’t let you go when he looks at Astarion. “Why did he want to capture you, not kill you? He said it was a sacred duty from his people—that’s no small task to be given.”
You shrug Wyll off and cross your arms, facing away from Tav. Tears slip down your cheeks as you regain control of your breathing. You rub at your face with one sleeve.
“How should I know?” Astarion asks. He’s putting on a front, you think. “He was most likely sent by my old master, Cazador, to bring me back to Baldur’s Gate.”
They discuss the possibilities—why a Gur was sent, what Cazador would want with him rather than just kill him. You keep your arms crossed, determined to hang onto the anger as fear creeps along the edge of your senses.
“Weren’t we here to thank a little old lady or something?” Astarion questions, hurriedly changing the subject. “Perhaps we should move on, before any more hunters show up?”
You are more than happy to get away from the corpse, but the closer you get to Ethel’s the more your anger ebbs away and is replaced by fear. There are so many things that contribute to that fear, so you hold onto the fury as tightly as possible and refuse to even look Tav in the eye, despite his many attempts at getting your attention. He flits around you, begging you to say anything to him, sic another redcap on him even, but you’ve quickly come to realize that the silent treatment is the best punishment.
That anger takes you all the way to Ethel’s door, where Wyll knocks before entering.
Though the tea house is a little decrepit and sitting in the middle of a swamp, it doesn’t smell like it. There’s a scent of a spicy tea in the air, and when you enter you find Ethel sitting where Mayrina is in game, sipping on a cup.
“Petal!” she says, a smile crossing her features when she sees who’s visiting. “I was worried you might not find the place.”
Ethel stands and approaches the bottom of the stairs, waving the group farther inside. “Come in, come, would you like some tea?”
You do your best to hide the fear that creeps along your spine. In the game Ethel could be a difficult battle, but that was only triggered based on the actions against Mayrina and her brothers. With none of them there you couldn’t predict how things would go.
From the corner of your eye you can see Astarion watching you. He doesn’t stray too far from the group, but he’s never more than a foot away from you. Maybe killing his hunter endeared him to you? You should have gotten a few Astarion Approves from letting him drink your blood alone.
While your eyes had wandered around the tea house Ethel and Tav had begun their conversation. He was also only a foot in front of you, and when you came back into the conversation Ethel was offering her deal.
“That sounds like a poor deal,” Tav says. He thrusts his thumb over his shoulder towards you. “Apparently they can fall out after getting hit in the head hard enough.”
“I don’t think that’s what happened,” Wyll says. He steps a little closer to you. You’re starting to feel claustrophobic with all of them keeping so close to you so you take a step back.
Ethel eyes the men and then you. There’s recognition in her features but it doesn’t feel quite the same as when Raphael had stared you down. “Your god must really love you to get rid of that little wriggler.”
You perk up, maybe too much and give away your eagerness. “My god?”
Wyll casts a warning glance in your direction. Don’t act desperate, it reads. You wet your lips. “How do you know it was my god and it didn’t just die?”
Ethel laughs. “Let’s just say you’ve got a glow about you. You all do. You Chosen.”
The air freezes. Everything slows…slows…stops.
Necromancer.
Chosen.
Control over the dead.
Necromancer-Chosen-dead three-Myrkul-
You whirl on your heel, fall to your knees, and throw up the fruit that had been forced on you earlier. You manage to get it into a nearby basket, but the purge doesn’t stop your stomach from turning. Those words—chosen, dead three, necromancer—keep swirling in your mind. You hiccup and release more into the basket.
You tremble. You’d never thrown up from fear before. Motion sickness, sure, flue, totally. But fear? The shaking doesn’t stop, nor does the urge to keep vomiting. All you can do is sit there on your knees, breathing heavily as the small dot that is your vision spins round and round and round.
Your head starts shaking. “No, I’m not—I’m nothing. Nobody! I don’t matter. I’m—”
You can’t be anyone connected to the main plot. No. You can’t be one of the dead three or a chosen, because you did have a worm in your brain for a while, and you were on the ship and—and—
“Take a breath,” Wyll says. He kneels beside you, hands out and ready to wrap around you but only hovering above your jacket.
“I’m not…”
“Just take a breath,” he repeats. “We don’t know anything for sure.”
He seems so sure, you think. So solid, just like last night at the party. How he can be so certain of anything right now is beyond you, and you know what’s coming.
You do as he instructs, your next few breaths are shaky but calming. You wipe at your mouth with your sleeve, watching as the spittle soaks into the fabric then disappears completely. “I need to—go somewhere. Not be…here.”
You stand quickly, ignoring Tav as he calls to you. You’re on the front porch when you feel something wrap around your ankle and nearly topple you forward. You come to a stop and turn. Tav’s tail is wrapped around your ankle and even when you stop it doesn’t loosen.
“Please, wait.”
You try to take a step forward but his grip is too strong. “I need to go.”
“I’ll go with you.” His tail tightens, desperate to keep you there. It pulls, trying to bring you closer to him even though it’s barely two feet between you.
“I want to be alone.”
“I’ll…I’ll be quiet.” Gods, he’s giving you that look that makes it feel like you just kicked a puppy. As much as you try to stay mad it’s fading into nothing but anxiety and fear, and a desperate desire to let him comfort you. But you need to think, somewhere without distractions and far away from a literal hag. Even if she hasn’t shown her true form.
“Tav,” you begin, pleading just as he is. You look at him. Really look at him. You take in the black scleras that surround the dark blue of his eyes, the beginnings of wrinkles around his mouth from where he’s always smiling, the slight indent of crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes. His white-gray hair shifts with the breeze, but his horns stop anything from getting into his eyes. You wish it would cover his eyes–they’re far too teary for the light-hearted man.
Wyll sets a hand on Tav’s shoulder. “Let go, Tav. It’ll be fine.”
The tieflings lips press together, his tail unmoving.
“Tav.” Wyll isn’t making a suggestion. With one last desperate look at you Tav finally releases his hold on your ankle.
You take the steps down into the dirt. “I’m just going back to camp. I’ll…see you there.”
Tav opens his mouth then thinks better of it. Whatever he was going to ask goes unspoken. Most likely another plea to get you to stay, or to allow him to follow.
You turn and start walking through the swamp.
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@half-poison-and-half-hope @sanscas @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @thequeen-oni @terrenuserinj @straewberrysoda @theomnipotentfox @becksynthetic @quitecontrary-to-mary @furblrwurblr @mega-trash-cringe @fandomsbookclub @dontneedbiologytoadopt @pebble-bb @v3lv3tvampir3 @mrow-kat @jeneralmischief @notsaelty @runaway-17 @aoirohi @tinswhimsy @xxgrimripp3rxx @kemonocat-blog @thetiredtoad0-0 @sleepydang @iwannabealocalcryptid
#reborn into bg3#reborn into baldur's gate 3 with no memory and plenty of money#astarion x reader#tav x reader#auntie ethel#fanfic#bg3 fanfic#bg3 fanfiction#you should really look into that other bag of yours reader
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Here is part two with the rest of the characters!
I actually included the three undateables - Mephisto, Raphael, and Thirteen. I'm getting tired of waiting for them to become dateable, so I decided to go ahead and write some for them, too. I don't know how good they are, I feel like I have no clue what I'm doing when it comes to them lol.
I may have also included my OC Arsenios as a bonus... just 'cause I really wanted to write one for him. It's exactly the kind of scenario he would be there for so it just fit so well. Anyway, you can read more about him here if you're curious. He's also the last one, so you can just skip it altogether if you like lol!
FLUFFTOBER 2023
GN!MC x the dateables, the undateables, and one OC lol
Warnings: none that I can think of??
It was an October night in the Devildom and the House of Lamentation was hosting a Halloween masquerade ball. The main hall had been decorated splendidly in oranges, purples, and blacks. An entire feast was laid out, the table full of dishes contributed to the party by Barbatos and Simeon. The room was dark, lit mostly by orbs of orange light, enchanted to float through the air by Solomon. On a small stage there was a live band playing a mix of lively and slow creepy music. The dance floor was filled with demons, all of whom were unrecognizable…
Due to the masquerade theme, special masks had been made for each attendee. They were made by Satan and Asmodeus, working together to create magical masks that would completely obscure each party goer's appearance. Once they put on the mask, a glamor fell over them that transformed them and made them unrecognizable. Every glamor costume was black and incorporated a look involving fancy suits, flowing dresses, and probably too many sequins.
The party organizers all knew what each other's mask-generated costumes looked like. Everyone had been present when Asmo revealed his designs. Everyone… except you. You had insisted on creating your own glamor and thus hadn't been present to see everyone else's.
Now you stood in the middle of this masquerade party, unable to recognize a single person.
And yet you knew that the person you wanted to see most was in the room somewhere. And after a small amount of time, you were certain you had figured out who it was. You made a bold move and asked them to dance. While you were in their arms, they told you to meet them somewhere specific later, when the party was winding down. You agreed and spent the rest of the night exchanging looks with them, anticipating the moment when you would be alone with them.
Had you chosen the correct person? Did you know them well enough that you could determine their identity when their appearance was so altered? And more importantly… did they know who you were?
Diavolo
You actually had to pretend that you didn't know who he was. The reality was that there was no mistaking Diavolo. He walked like a king, moving about the room and talking happily with every demon he came across. He had a presence unlike any other, even rivaling Lucifer in the way he commanded the space and everybody's attention.
You had to intercept him and ask him to dance. He accepted your invitation readily enough, but you weren't sure if it was out of politeness or if it was because he actually knew who you were. He spoke with you easily while you danced and even when he asked you to meet him in the foyer, you weren't sure if he knew you.
You managed to break away later, when things were winding down. You had seen Diavolo going into the foyer and followed him after only a few moments.
His mask was already gone and you found him in full demon form. Diavolo looked absolutely regal standing there, waiting for you. You went up to him, almost intimidated. You still weren't sure if he knew you.
"You wanted to see me, Lord Diavolo?" you asked carefully.
Diavolo chuckled. He reached out to take off your mask. "Were you truly afraid I didn't know you, MC?"
You blushed and looked away.
Diavolo laughed and took your hands, pulling you outside into the Devildom night. Before you knew what was happening, you were in his arms and with a heavy beat of his enormous wings, the two of you were flying. The wind rushed through your hair as you wrapped your arms around him, pressing yourself close.
Diavolo hovered for a moment. "Don't be afraid. I have you. I only wanted to be alone with you for a moment. Up here, no one will see us."
You flushed, amazed at the sight of him, his strong arms keeping you up, the yellow light of the moon splashing across his skin. Everything became heated as he kissed you, the neediness of his lips indicating just how much he had been waiting for this moment.
Barbatos
If you hadn't been deliberately looking for him, you likely wouldn't have noticed Barbatos at all. He stayed out of the way, on the edges of the party, sometimes fully in the shadows. But even in his glamor, he maintained his usual butler pose and his stance was what gave him away.
You weren't sure if he would accept when you asked him to dance. You knew he was a guest at this party, but he had a tendency to go into butler mode even as an attendee. To your delight, he bowed to you and took your hand. You hadn't been sure if he knew who you were, but the way he danced so close to you indicated that he did. Likely, he had known all along. Your suspicions seemed confirmed when he invited you to the kitchen.
You slipped into the kitchen as the party quieted, finding Barbatos making tea. You weren't in doubt of his identity, but the sight was so familiar, any questions were immediately put to rest.
"Come, MC," Barbatos said. "I've brewed your favorite."
You took off your mask. "You always knew it was me, didn't you?"
Barbatos poured you a cup of tea and handed it to you. He met your eyes and took off his own mask. "Just as you always knew it was me."
You put the teacup down on the counter next to your mask. You took Barbatos's face in your hands and kissed him.
Barbatos responded by wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing you back.
After a moment, he pulled away and smiled at you. "Your tea will get cold, MC."
"Let it," you said, kissing him again.
Simeon
You really thought it would be easy to find an angel in a room full of demons, even if they were all unrecognizable. You moved from group to group, trying to figure out if you could find Simeon by his words. Perhaps he would say something that would tip you off.
You were unsuccessful still by the time someone asked you to dance. You almost said no, but something stopped you. You cocked your head and considered him. He was graceful, his hand extended, ready to take yours. You couldn't quite place it, but there was something about him that made you think… could it be…? When he asked you to meet him in the guest room later - your room - you were even less sure than before.
When you entered your own room to find him waiting for you, you hesitated.
But then Simeon laughed and no glamor could hide the musical sound of it.
"I'm sorry, MC," he said. "Did I confuse you by asking you to meet me in your room?"
You sighed, coming fully into the room now and taking off your own mask. "It was a little unexpected, yes."
You walked up to Simeon and took off his mask yourself.
"But in the end, your angelic laugh gave you away," you said with a smile.
Simeon blushed. "I only wanted a moment alone with you and this seemed like the best place."
You put your arms around him. "It is," you said.
Simeon kissed you without prompting, his arms tightening around your waist and pulling you into him.
Solomon
You were the only two humans in the room. Maybe that was all it took. Perhaps it was the unmistakable bond between master and apprentice. You could even argue that after all the time you'd spent doing spells together, you simply knew the feeling of the other's magic. Whatever the reason, both you and Solomon knew each other upon first sight.
You both deliberately kept your distance, each of you sending glances at the other across the room at regular intervals. It was a look of knowing, a soft smile, quick eye contact, a conversation without words. You were the first one to ask him to dance. He accepted right away, holding you closer than a stranger would dare to as you moved together to the slow song that was playing.
You were a little startled when Solomon teleported you right off the dance floor. You grabbed onto his arms as the room spun a bit before resolving into his own room at Purgatory Hall.
You took a step back and folded your arms, frowning at him. "Was that really necessary?"
Solomon chuckled. "You sound upset, MC. After all those looks you gave me tonight, I thought you would want us to be alone."
You blushed and were grateful that you were still wearing your mask. "I mean, yes, obviously, but now everybody's going to be in uproar about it."
"No they won't," Solomon said, putting his arms around you again. "Nobody knew who you were, did they?"
You suspected that some of the others had figured out your identity. But the look in Solomon's still glamored eyes made your stomach flip and you found you no longer cared. You took off his mask and yours, tossing them aside before kissing him.
Mephistopheles
Maybe you wouldn't have known Mephistopheles with the glamor, but he gave himself away with his haughty demeanor. He moved around the room with his chin up, following Diavolo like a puppy. Everyone in the room was aware of Diavolo's identity, so it only made sense that the one constantly seeking his attention was likely Mephisto.
You approached and asked him to dance, knowing that his sense of correct manners would prevent him from saying no. He didn't seem to be able to tell exactly who you were as you danced with him. You wanted to ask him to meet you later, but you weren't sure if he would agree. So instead you mentioned that Lord Diavolo was going to be in the music room.
You were pleased to find Mephisto waiting when you showed up in the music room. He turned to you and frowned.
"I thought you said Lord Diavolo would be here," he said.
You took off your mask. "I'm sorry," you said. "I only said that because I didn't think you'd come if I just asked."
Mephisto's frown deepened as he took off his own mask. "You? What do you want?"
You came closer, tapping his chest with your fingertips, smile teasing. "Oh I don't know. It's a party. You seemed so tense and preoccupied. I thought you might like to let go a little."
Mephisto blushed, but he caught your hand in his. "And I suppose you think you can help me with that?"
You leaned forward, your faces almost touching. "If you let me."
Mephisto pulled your hand so you stumbled forward a little and your lips crashed into his. His arm wrapped around you and you couldn't resist putting your other hand on his cheek as you kissed him back.
Raphael
Raphael was almost painfully obvious. You even heard him say something about spears, which instantly let you know who you were dealing with. He seemed oblivious about who you were and he also seemed like he didn't particularly care who was who at all.
That was, until you asked him to dance. He agreed, but it was clear to you that he was puzzled. Not just about who you were, but why you wanted to dance with him. He likely thought you were a demon and therefore would want to stay far away from him. And yet, as the dance went on, he relaxed, which surprised you. Had he realized who you were? You thought he must have when he asked you to meet him in the garden.
When you arrived, he turned to look at you. He had already removed his mask and he had a rose in his hand, which he handed to you as you came closer.
"I asked you to come out here so I could give you this," he said, his voice serious, his demeanor as stiff as it always was.
You held the rose carefully and looked at him. "Do you… know who I am?"
Raphael smiled and it transformed his face. One moment he had been staring at you with an almost stern expression, but now there was a sweet softness that you rarely saw. "Of course I do, MC."
You sighed and took off your mask. "What gave me away?"
Raphael blushed lightly. "It was your kindness. I did not think a demon would ask to dance with me. I would have recognized if it had been Simeon or Solomon."
You couldn't help yourself. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. To your complete surprise, Raphael put his hands on your waist, keeping you there and kissing you back. You found out in that moment how soft Raphael could become.
Thirteen
You expected it to be difficult to find Thirteen. You thought she likely didn't even want to be at the party at all. So you supposed she would keep to herself. But you should have known she wouldn't be able to give up a chance to trap a certain sorcerer. She had brought a trap that looked absolutely terrifying, but before it could be sprung, Barbatos intercepted it and had her take it apart.
She was sulking about the lost opportunity when you asked her to dance. The way she brightened up immediately made you think she must know it was you. You were the only one she seemed to genuinely like. She danced with you happily, smiling the whole time. When the dance was over, she asked you to meet her later in the planetarium.
As soon as you arrived, she was at your side. "MC! You came!"
You laughed and took off your mask. "How did you know it was me?"
Thirteen giggled. "Your shiny soul, of course! It was the first thing I saw when I got here!"
You blushed and reached out to take her mask off, too. "I might not have figured out who you were if it wasn't for that trap you brought."
Thirteen frowned and shook her head. "Barbatos ruined my chance."
You took her hand. "Maybe, but I'm sure you'll come up with an even better trap for Solomon."
Thirteen pulled you closer, her smile back. "You're so sweet, aren't you, MC?"
"Only to you," you said, leaning in and pausing only a breath away from Thirteen's lips.
Thirteen needed no further prompting, letting her lips meet yours as your arms slid around her.
Arsenios
The live band playing on the small stage seemed to consist of a group of demons all wearing the glamor-giving masks. You were a little mesmerized by the one who was playing the piano, but you had no idea who he was at first. You watched them play as you moved about the room, your eyes always going back to the demon at the piano. A few times, he looked up and met your eyes.
You noticed when band members began to take breaks, one of them leaving the stage while the others played something soft and mellow. So you were hovering by the drink table when the demon who had been playing the piano came to the table for some water.
"Hey there, MC," he said as he filled a little cup from a large glass jug with slices of Devildom citrus floating in it.
You frowned. "You know me?"
He shrugged and drank the whole cup in one long gulp. "There's a rhythm to the way you walk," he said.
Something about the way he said this clued you in to his identity. "Arsenios?"
He took off his mask, revealing that you were correct. "I didn't think you'd know me."
You pretended to be offended. "Really? Who else would recognize someone by the rhythm of their walk?"
Arsenios chuckled. "Yeah, okay, smart ass," he said.
You grinned and grabbed his hand, pulling him away from the drinks and into the nearest empty room, which happened to be the library. He let you lead him, an amused expression on his face when you turned back to him.
"I'm glad you're here tonight," you said. "Even if it is as the entertainment."
Arsenios reached up to remove your mask. He put it carefully aside before cupping your cheek in his hand. "And? Are you entertained?"
You leaned toward him. "Not yet."
Arsenios pulled you close and kissed you, arms enclosing you. You could just hear the soft strains of the music - sans piano - behind the beating of your heart.
part 1 with the demon brothers
flufftober | kinktober | masterlist | Thank you for reading!
taglist: @anxious-chick @t0tallycoolname @libidinous-weeb
#obey me#obey me nightbringer#obey me shall we date#omswd#obey me fluff#obey me flufftober#obey me headcanons#obey me diavolo#om diavolo#obey me barbatos#om barbatos#obey me simeon#om simeon#obey me solomon#om solomon#obey me mephistopheles#om mephistopheles#obey me raphael#om raphael#obey me thirteen#om thirteen#obey me oc#obey me oc arsenios#misc oc arsenios#misc flufftober 2023#misc writes
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seventeen as taylor swift songs
notes: guys. guys im not even a swiftie but ive listened to sooo many of her songs for this hc that i could literally Become one now if i wanted to
[this fic's spotify playlist]
masterlist
seungcheol
wildest dreams. it's kind of an incredibly, almost painfully romantic song. it's kind of a whirlwind romance song? while it's certainly a little hopeless, there's yearning there, and there's also so much vivid, vibrant love at the same time, a kind of possession, of protectiveness even so. it's seungcheol because of the desperate, helpless love it describes, a 'i couldn't help but fall for you' vibe that is so him.
jeonghan
style. the type of pretty boy x pretty girl energy this song exudes gives me delicate, gorgeous, jeonghan vibes. it's sweet, light, but it's also playful and so romantic that it makes your heart feel so full it might burst. it's something you can scream loudly, but also something you can hold close to your heart. the song is a silvery cream colour, reminding me of jeonghan
joshua
enchanted. i mean???? enchanted is The royal, romantic, sparkling, glittering song of all time. it's gentle and gentlemanly and yearning and hopeful and wonderful and so, so joshua coded it's actually insane. it's a type of strangers to friends to lovers that crescendos into a heart-melting happy ever after that takes your breath away. it's so joshua it makes me cry.
junhui
paper rings. it's so youthful, so bubbly, so young love in the way that only junhui can be the one to embody. it's sweet like junhui's smiles, endearing like junhui's laughs, bright and lovely like the way in which junhui would love with his entire heart. paper rings is so full of brightly orange coloured love, just like junhui is.
hoshi
22. this song talks about living your life to the fullest, no matter the age, for all time, as if every day is your last. it's about finding happiness in every situation, with the person you love the most in the entire world. it's a song that feels like bright, flashing lights, like warm drinks, like soft kisses. it feels like hoshi.
wonwoo
willow. the acoustic vibes of this song feel very wonwoo. there's a sort of undying, eternal love in the lyrics, an idea of always coming back to him, of forever finding endless comfort and wonder and new experiences while loving him. there's a certain domesticity to this song, and honestly the best way to describe it really is eternal love, constant love, comfortable and thrilling and warm all at once.
woozi
jump then fall. honestly, it took me a while to find one for woozi, but then i discovered this song and it fit him perfectly. it's devastatingly soft, so gentle and caring, just like woozi is. it doesn't have any sudden realisations of love, but rather a slow, soft kind of falling in love, an innate understanding of how one feels, and that is just so, so woozi to me.
minghao
all too well. the romantic, elegant, velvet feeling to this song embodies minghao very, very well. it's almost wistful in its love, like remembering a wonderful memory, like making sure that you remember the best times of your life without any animosity, any hatred. it's of real love, of cherishing, gentle and nostalgic and minghao all the way.
mingyu
daylight. it's a little youthful, hopeful, bright, like mingyu. the song just exudes so much "happy ever after" vibes, at the end of a perfect romantic novel, and that's so mingyu. it's the epilogue song, heart filled with warm love, his smiles as sweet and gentle as the chorus of the song. it's hopeful, optimistic, beautiful.
dokyeom
cruel summer. okay first of all—the high notes?? the pretty little voice tremble thingies?? it's so pretty dokyeom voice coded. but also, apart from that, it's such a sweet sounding song, young and happy and and hopeful and devastatingly him. it's yearning and endearing at the same time, full of every emotion in the world, just like he is.
seungkwan
shake it off. it's a citrusy brightly fun song, with lilac undertones and this is gonna sound really really weird but that instantly made me think of seungkwan. it's full of positivity, of bouncing back, of not giving up and and not caring what anyone else thinks. of being the life of the party, of making other people happy, and that is the most seungkwan thing in the whole world.
vernon
we are never ever getting back together. lyrics aside, there's a lot of feel-good energy in this song which feels so vernon. honestly lots of taylor's old songs feel like they can match him a lot, because there's so much young energy, feeling a little like a boundless puppy, and i don't know. the self-assurance, the brightness, the pure pop, light feeling is something that just fits vernon.
chan
red. perhaps an unexpected one, but hear me out, this one is so, so, chan-coded, i promise you. it's like an old love, a sad, wistful love. but a wistful love of a romance that was anything but that: of a romance that had been full of the scent of leather and love and living. that's what chan is, i think. red feels very, very much like loving chan.
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#fairyhaos.works#seventeen#svt#seventeen fic#seventeen drabble#seventeen headcanons#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#svt fluff#kpop writing#scoups#seungcheol#jeonghan#joshua#hong jisoo#junhui#hoshi#soonyoung#wonwoo#woozi#jihoon#minghao#the8#mingyu#dokyeom#seokmin#seungkwan#hansol#vernon#chan
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I'd like to request Tonowari x Top Male reader. Tonowari and reader have been dating for years and finally decide that they are going to mate. Just a lot of fluffy mating stuff.
Tonowari x Top!M!Reader
A/N: Soooo I know I’ve gotten some previous avatar requests and I swear I’ve seen them- I’m just scared y’all!! I want that Ronal/Tonowari too I’m just really intimidated because I wanna do these characters justice. Especially after my recent lack luster works (I’m just not personally happy with them). So I hope this one is a bit better- I haven’t written anything like this in a very very long time.
>>>>>(+18 CONTENT SO MDNI!!)<<<<<<<
There was always something so serene about the ocean something that you could never quite place. The gentle waves and rough seas enchanted and frightened you in the same beautiful feeling. The ocean was your second home the place of abyss where the dangers of land could never reach.
“The perfect day…” came his cool voice from just behind you a sweet jazz sound your ears always turned to. You turned to look at his beautiful form, his dark curled hair splayed out down his shoulder and tattooed face turned up in a warm smile. You loved the way his eyes narrowed and cheeks rounding when he smiled, almost able to hear his deep full laugh clear as the blue tide pools.
This night was a special one for the two of you after years of courting you would finally be mated. It was a long time coming and neither one of you could contain this excitement. Despite his success and firm demeanor Tonowari was actually quite shy and anxious about his love for you. A trait you both shared after separate shared heat breaks from failed couplings in the past.
He carried your heart as if it were made of finest sea glass and you’d done the same for him as well. And now after so much your hearts would finally become one…
“You ready?” He nodded taking your hand as you led him back inside. This was evening was just for the two of you and eywa to witness and cherish.
Your home is a little way from the main village and just above the water, it’s a small but comfortable dwelling that Tonowari adds to by just being here. It all becomes more real when the two of you sat together his blue eyes filled with nervousness and excitement.
“You're shaking," you say, in a gentle whisper. You’re slow to touch him even now, your hands cradling the sides of his face with an almost ghostly feel. He’s warm against you, noses nuzzled as you brought his forehead to yours.
“I’m happy”
The waiver in his voice was clear as day. You’d both struggled in the past with a relationship and after so much growth, you’d be taking that final step together. “I am to” your own voice just a quiet secret as you brought your braid to his. His gasping was the first thing you heard then his folded ears when you opened your eyes.
His pupils blown wide as he stared back at you with the same surprise. “Do I look silly?” He chuckled rising to his knees with you eagerly pulling him into you. “You look perfect…” all you could see was him, all your oxygen became him, your entire being belonged to him.
His breath hitched as you loosened the ties of his loins, the garment easily slipped off and laid to the side for later. Tonowari was a large man by Na’vi standards and that also extended to the lower extremity he had. But when compared to you he felt like a small thing to be brushed away. Your cock is larger than his by any measure and for a moment he looked at you with questionable eyes.
“I’ll be gentle” you promise. Tonowari nodded and lent over, his plush lips fitting perfectly with yours. You kissed him for another moment longer, savoring the taste of him. You trail from his neck all the way down the soft muscles of his chest.
“You’re so beautiful…” affirming your words with a kiss to each of his nipples. He’s splayed out on his back shuddering underneath you in a matter of seconds as you get lower.
Swallowing the tip into your mouth and sucking gently. His moan is a loud deep whimper, and you hold his thighs at the small jolt of his hips. “More…please” he groans out a hand curling into the strands of your hair, you take him deeper until his length hits the back of your throat.
You’re almost tempted to let him cum, but not just yet.
You pull off him with a grin on your face. Precum dripping down your chin as Tonowari looks at you through heavy eyes. Leaning over you reach to kiss him, it’s sloppy mess but neither one of you complain.
Your fingers are slick with oil as you work him open, adding another digit with each ask for more. His hole a beautifully blushed purple as you finish working him open, fluttering, clenching, and begging to be filled.
“Ready?”
“More than…”
Being generous would be a loose statement, your cock slicked with oil and even more on Tonowari. He looked so beautiful this way, legs spread and raised with you perfectly between them.
Tonowari felt the warm weight of your dick being dragged up and down his loose and ready hole. Pre-come was slicking up his cheeks along with the oil. Your slow thrust was enough to drive him mad before you finally entered him.
A deep moan left his lips as he felt your cock rub against his rim and the head push inside. You were big and even with prep this was gonna take a minute. Looking down his hole was stretched beautifully around you, his breathing heavy with every inch deeper you got.
His arm wrapped over your neck as he moaned and whined into your shoulder.
And after brief moment you bottomed out heavy balls on his ass. eyes crossed from how full he felt.
“So good…” you were both breathless and sweaty, and his comment made you chuckle he felt good as well. There was no rush in waiting for him to adjust letting those heavy thighs wrap around you a little tighter.
His lips peppering your neck as you slowly pulled out so only the head was left inside.
Pushing back in fucking him nice and slow. You cock dragging against Tonowari’s swollen insides with every back and forth thrust of your hips, striking his prostate with each thrust. His mouth on yours and the warm wet of his tongue only heightened the feeling.
He clutched at you even tighter pulling you in as close as possible; his own leaking cock, rubbing against your stomach and smearing it with precum.
His moans lost in the swell of muddled senses and all you felt was him. He had invaded every one of them, his heart beating with yours, his very being. And Tonowari couldn’t do anything but feel and taste you, lost in how good it felt to have you on and inside him.
“I’m close” you moaned against his lips as Tonowari brought his legs up higher making you sink further into him. His hole clenching down tighter around your aching cock.
“Inside please” he whined bitting into the meat of your shoulder, his warm tears leaving their mark.
You emptied inside of him with a satisfied groan, falling forward onto Tonowari’s cum-slicked chest. Your cock throbbed with each rope of cum that painted his insides, you were both left desperately clinging to the other a tangled mess of men.
His legs fell from your waist as they trembled from the orgasm that ripped through the both of you.
The both of you…
———————————————
A/N: Im so scared to actually read this back so I hope y’all like it! Feed back, comment, and critique is always welcome. Yes my requests are open so send one in if you have any, I have a few ideas for a certain clone force 99 brewing.
BUT! in the mean time I hope you enjoyed and don’t forget your umbrella.
#avatar#avatar 2#atwow#tonowari#tonowari x reader#tonowari x male reader#top male reader#Male reader#x male reader#avatar x male reader#avatar x reader#avatar smut#Tonowari#open requests#imagine#smut#avatar the way of water
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