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ollypopwrites · 1 month

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Dinner and Diatribes;

Gale x F!Tav (she/her, AFAB) [note: references to the fact Tav is Curvy but there’s no descriptors on her appearance besides what she’s wearing]

Summary: Gale gets his perfect night in Waterdeep.

Rating: M (18+ MDNI)

CW: smut (oral sex, PiV sex, fingering, slight overstim, references to Dom!Gale but he doesn’t actually make an appearance this time), insecurity, General Mystra Warning, L-bombs

Word count: 4.5k

Notes: this was originally written with my SorcBard Tav in mind. They end up together post-game and Tav and Gale have not been with each other physically as of yet.

Read on Ao3

Tav appraised her appearance one last time, nerves bubbling up in her when she knew there ought not to be any. She was having dinner with Gale, not a stranger.

Yet, she tugged at the lacy sleeves of her tunic, the cream colored fabric dangling off her shoulders and belling at the sleeves. Her breasts were up and out, figure tucked and smoothed by the sturdy corset she wore. The wrap skirt, slit at the leg with stockings underneath, was periwinkle, hugged her hips and showed some skin. She had wanted to veer away from the normally shapeless practicality of the protective gear she wore throughout their journey.

And she found the delicate pale blue embroidery against the white fabric of the garment to be quite pretty, the silk bows that served as sleeves made her think of romantic ballads. She felt delight at wearing something pretty without thinking of practicality for the first time since being taken by the nautiloid. There was a novelty to sitting down to take time to get ready for something fun rather than something that could potentially end with blood and death.

Her eyes drifted over to the corner of the room that until recently had housed a small altar to the Mother of Magic.

In its place was a vase of flowers, Tav’s favorite colors and blooms, which had appeared that morning. The altar itself had mysteriously disappeared the day after they first arrived in Waterdeep. Neither of them had said anything about it, but she knew he had seen her staring at the dusty offerings and long burnt incense laid at the feet of an idol of his former lover.

With one last look in the mirror she bolstered herself. She was no goddess but she had defeated a Vampire Lord, undead generals, a 200 year curse, hordes of goblins and a Netherbrain. That had to count for something.

Taking a deep breath she left through the bedroom door, and was met by Gale.

Well, Gale’s double. A projection, as he was often fond of using.

“Greetings! I am here on behalf of Gale of Waterdeep!”

“Oh, are you?” She asked sarcastically.

“I am indeed!”

Sarcasm was not translated into the projection it seemed.

“If you are ready for the evening to begin, please say so, if not, I shall await your confirmation.”

Tav smiled a little, “I’m ready.”

“Please follow me.”

She followed him down to the same level as the study, and she found herself confused. They were meant to be having dinner. The whole package, she had recalled, he wanted to wine and dine her. She expected to be escorted to the dining room, not the study.

The door was closed, and the projection gave a polite bow to signal its leave. Should she knock? Uncertain, she gripped the door handle and opened the door.

Immediately she was confronted with a wave of unfamiliar smells. Normally the study smelt like the fireplace, leather of bound books, ink and slight sea air from the terrace. Instead this smelled of savory food, crisp night air, and heavy sea spray. The entry was draped by lavish silk curtains hiding any view of the room, tassels and embroidered prints creating lovely textures.

Gale stood waiting for her arrival.

His hair was pulled back and pinned neatly in his new fashion of a small bun at the back of his head. He wore a white tunic, billowed sleeves and a jerkin of sapphire blue, embroidered intricately with bronze filigree. Dark blue breeches, and what looked to be blue shoes which matched his vest.

It also looked as if he had trimmed his beard, the lines smooth and incredibly sleek. Tav had certainly noticed how handsome he was during their travels, and even then he was always somewhat genteel despite the rugged conditions.

This was different. He seemed more in his element like this, maybe not quite so formally dressed, but she could imagine this was the Gale Dekarios which caught the eye of a Goddess. Confident, gentlemanly and remarkably good looking.

His eyes lit up at the sight of her.

“Hello,” she said, aware how nervous and jittery her voice was despite her smile.

“Hello,” Gale grinned. “You look… exquisite.”

She blushed. “And you look very good in blue.”

Gale kissed her cheek, and she gripped his face to make sure he kissed her properly. “I’ve prepared everything,” he said. “Are you ready?”

“For you? Always.”

Like a true gentleman, he offered her his arm and she accepted. They walked through the fabric barrier and Tav audibly gasped at the transformation. The study was changed, made to look like an enchanting garden. Lit up by candelabras, framed by arches made of vines and flowers of every color imaginable, it was beautiful.

The view from the terrace had been expanded, so that from every angle a clear view of the glittering lights of Waterdeep glinted. The entire mirage was topped with a star filled sky and the moon hanging at the horizon of the water. She could feel a breeze, not too cold but carrying the scent of the ocean.

A table sat at the center, intimate, and music was playing from some unseen source. Most likely the enchanted piano. Where she knew the terrace was, his couch still stood, overlooking the view. The sounds coming through beyond the music were real, she could tell. It was simultaneously an illusion and blissfully real.

He led her to the table, pulled out her chair for her and then sat across from her. The smile on her face was starting to hurt her cheeks, only emphasized by another Gale projection bringing them wine. They toasted each other and she looked out on the view of the city.

“Do you like it?” He sounded uncertain.

Her hand came out to grab his across the table. “It’s hard to describe, but like isn’t a strong enough word.” She glanced over to the projection of Gale waiting to be summoned for any need they may have, “although I think the waiter fancies me.”

“I applaud his taste.”

It was very clear how meticulously planned the night had been. From the food to the wine, Gale had an exuberant explanation for his choices. For a moment Tav wondered why she would be nervous at all; they had shared every meal together for months. But, Tav knew that this was the courtship he had wanted to offer her, this was the night he wished he could have given her when he thought it was his last back on the road to Moonrise.

Gale, if he was nervous, did not show it. Instead his eyes glinted with excitement, eagerness, and delight. His gaze was so intense on her, she felt like either the wine or something else was making her brain fuzzy.

After dinner they danced, slow uncomplicated movements to the music from the piano for a while, and then settled onto the settee looking out at the water. The night sky was clear, the breeze from the bay adding a bit of chill that balanced out the warmth she felt from the wine. It was a beautiful tapestry of midnight blue and silver of the moon and stars.

She leaned against him half draped over his lap as her legs stretched out, fingers dancing over his palm which lay in her lap. His other hand gently danced over her arm and down her side. She thought she may melt at the warmth of his lips pressed against her bare shoulder, beard softly scratching as he lingered there.

“You ought to be careful, Gale.”

“Oh? What dangers lurk that I am unaware of?”

“The danger of spoiling me rotten,” she chuckled.

“I’m not averse to such a risk,” he nuzzled behind her ear, “quite the opposite, really. You deserve it, and more.”

Her mind rolled over that, heart full at his earnestness as usual. Even if she didn’t believe it, he certainly did.

“Thank you,” she said thoughtfully after a moment. “This night has been so wonderful.”

“It’s not over yet,” he whispered.

A shiver ran down her spine. No words finding their way to her lips.

“If I may be so bold,” he went on, “I’d like to partake in dessert somewhere more private.”

“Tell me, Chef Dekarios, what is on the dessert menu tonight?”

“You,” he said, a grin evident in his voice. “I’d have laid you across the dinner table if I hadn’t promised us both a bed first and foremost. You truly are a temptress,” his hand broke from her loving grasp to run along the curve of her neck, and shoulder, fingers trailing over the tops of her breasts before cupping her chin, “you incite such an insatiable hunger, even when you are doing nothing more than sitting there across from me. If you’ll allow it, I’d like to finally have a taste.”

Tav’s head tipped back, eyes closed as her skin began to flush and her heart began to thud in her chest. “I’ll allow anything you want,” she breathed. “Name it, it’s yours.”

“Tav,” he murmured.

“Yours.” She repeated.

A tug in her stomach and the strange shift of moving through the weave happened so suddenly, she opened her eyes, confused by her new surroundings. She was on her feet, Gale behind her still, but in the bedroom, no longer shrouded by lovely blue night sky but the warmth of a candle lit room and the familiar walls.

Gale murmured something, and then spun her around to kiss her. Needy, fervent meetings of lips, and tongues. Her fists curled into the fabric of his sleeves, and his settled on either side of her face. She felt a tugging at her back, then the cool brush of an unseen hand. He had conjured a mage hand to untie her corset, the fingers pulling at the strings to loosen them.

Before it managed to get them all the way undone, she was fumbling with buttons on his vest. She shrugged the heavy corset off, the thud of it falling to the ground ignored as she pushed his own garment off his shoulders. Before he could distract her with his hands again, she untucked his shirt and pulled the fabric over his head.

Her fingers danced over his warm skin, feeling hair and scars and firm muscle beneath flesh. Gale groaned, bending to grip her by the generous flesh of her thighs to pull her up in his arms, for the quick journey to the bed where he set her down. Her tunic was tugged off, thrown aside and he grunted in displeasure at the thin cloth bandeau that still covered her breasts.

Tav chuckled, grabbing the scrap of fabric and pulling it overhead. Gale’s eyebrows hiked up at the sight of her tits out, heavy and round with already pebbled nipples, and under the scrutiny she felt doubt creep in.

“Not what you were hoping for?” It was half a joke, a deflection for the blush she knew was on her face, something to do besides wrap her arms around herself.

“Are you completely mad?” He finally met her eyes, looking offended. “May I?”

She nodded, only to be firmly guided onto her back as Gale put one knee between her thighs on the bed and leaned forward.

His hands grabbed, not fully able to grasp, even with hands larger than her own. “Soft,” he thought out loud to himself. “How are you so soft?”

“I-I don't know,” she hitched a breathy tone. “Ah, gentle please,” she gasped when he began pinching and rolling the peaks between his fingers, calloused fingers from years of spell work and a combined over-excited pinch both thrilling and overstimulating, “they’re very sensitive.”

“Very important information,” he murmured, running a thumb over one in a soothing motion that still made her gasp out loud. “I wonder…”

The thought trailed off as his mouth clasped around one nipple and Tav gave an undignified squeal as her hips rolled. Too many layers between her skirt and underclothes to provide her the relief she wanted, even with his knee between her thighs. Each brush of his finger over one, followed by a firm squeeze, made her twitch and the laving of his tongue had her letting out soft little moans.

Finally he pulled away, watching as his hands continued where he left off. One hand danced over her soft stomach, and slipped down towards the waistband of her skirt, tickling the skin there until she gasped a laugh. He pushed down her stockings, tugged her skirt off and looked one last time for approval before he slipped her under things down her legs.

For a moment, his eyes darted over her body. Despite the thrill of being at the center of such avid admiration, she felt the need to do something in the face of it. A conflicting moment of uncertainty, the apprehension of him seeing any flaw in her moving her to try distract him. Her fingers came up to grab, but he gently redirected her wrist to his lips.

“You are perfect beyond imagining,” he said.

“You’re a flatterer,” she breathed, her eyes avoiding his, as they trailed over his torso and to the bulge in his breeches.

“I reject that accusation,” he said, grabbing a pillow and tossing it onto the floor before he got to his knees upon it. “I’m an admirer of art.”

Tav rolled her eyes with a half laugh as she allowed her legs to be spread, heels set on the edge of the bed. He kissed each one as he set them where he wanted, beard scratching and tongue peaking out to taste.

She was a little in awe of him like this. His eyes dark, a slight smirk painted onto his face, softened only when he met her eyes and smiled at her. With his broad shoulders forcing her legs wider as he moved further between them, and his hair coming out of his once immaculate bun, she felt her throat run dry and a heat rush through her body as she admired him.

He stopped suddenly, and she met his look of intentional seriousness. “If you need me to stop,” he said, “say the word and we will.”

She nodded her head.

He kissed the inside of her thigh again, before his eyes slid down his hands massaging around her outer lips. She was wet, it had smeared her thighs, that she already knew. A gentle gasp pulled from her lungs as he took his time, rubbing and spreading her, the same look of deep focus on his face as when he was taken with an interesting tome.

Gale rubbed along the seam of her, before spreading her open and gently rubbing her clit. A choked sound emitted from her after he commented, “you’re soaked, my love.”

“All your doing, beloved,” she replied.

“I do love hearing that,” he grinned. “You’ll have to tell me what else I do to you.”

Any response died away when he licked a long stripe along her. The slightest groan came from him, and he began to work. It was agonizing heaven, the filthy sounds as he sucked and licked at her cunt and the way he gripped her thighs only enhancing the actual sensation of his mouth on her.

Half-formed thoughts kept slipping out of her mouth until only single words and whines were all she could muster. Her hands slid over his, and he laced them together, his efforts doubling after the gesture of affection. Her excitement was running so high, anticipation adding to arousal, that she knew she would not last long.

“Gale,” she breathed, “feels so good — so close —“

He never pulled away, just found what was making her legs writhe over his shoulders the most, what made her hips search for friction, and her breath spike. Her hands gripped his so both of them had a firm grip of her thighs, as she suddenly teetered over the edge, heavy waves of pleasure singing in her veins as he licked her through it.

Except once it passed, he did not pull away. It felt good, so she was not going to push him off, but she was sensitive. Each touch of his tongue on her clit felt like a shock through her whole being making her legs clamp around him. He let go of her hands and pushed her thighs apart again, she thought that alone had her ready to fall apart once more.

Relentless and yet somehow still controlled, he was singularly intent on making her come again. The sensation almost scared her as she greedily chanted for more, more, more in her head and maybe aloud, she couldn’t be sure. Gale was groaning into her, the firmness of his grip surprising her still. She wanted him inside of her.

“Please“ she started to beg, “fuck me.”

He gave a moan, the only time she felt him falter. “One more, my love,” he replied. A demand or a promise, maybe both. “Give me one more.”

He let his fingers work over her this time, still between her legs, watching each movement she made. For her credit, she kept her hips and legs from knocking him away, the rest of her body making up for it. Her back arched, she writhed and gripped the bedding beneath her like it was going to anchor her.

When Gale slipped a finger inside of her, easy enough that he tried a second, she went stiff. “Good?”

She nodded her head.

“Words, please, Tav,” he said gently. It occurred to her he may be asking after her wellbeing rather than to tease.

Either way, she loved the feeling in her brain at the idea of it being a demand. Of him tormenting her in the most beautiful way.

“Good!” She blurted out. “So fucking good.”

His mouth had expertly pulled her apart, but she was finding his fingers to be just as talented. She clamped down around the digits pushing in her as she felt herself falling to pieces.

“Yes,” he breathed. “Good, Tav…” when she opened her eyes, she was met with him staring at hers. As if he could read her mind, he went on talking, “come undone for me.”

Her whole being responded to the request, as if he had the ability to command her body with just a word. She writhed and rolled her hips as she came, a truly unrestrained string of cries that she knew were a bit too loud. Gale’s hand cupped her cunt, and she could feel the pulse of it against his hand — his face giving way to pure want as he moaned.

“Alright?” He asked after a moment.

“Would be better if I had you inside of me,”she teased, giddily.

“Minx,” he grumbled, coming to stand.

“Tease,”she shot back sitting up.

When she kissed him he tasted distinctly of her arousal, and somehow it made her heart skip a beat. Her tongue danced over his, hand trailing down his chest to the waistband of his breeches, untying as she went. Her hands slipped inside, grasping through his underclothes at the length of his cock, hard and tenting the fabric.

Gale gave a sinful groan, eyes shut tight and when she started to stroke his jaw went slack.

Tav chuckled, “feel good, my darling?”

“Too good,” he grunted, hand gripping her wrist tight. “It’s been… far too long since I’ve — erm, partaken in pleasure on this plane, so to speak.”

Tav frowned, contemplating that, her eyes drifting to the space where Mystra’s altar had once been then back to him. “That’s okay,” she said immediately. “I don’t care.”

“You might,” he replied, wry smile masking what she knew to be embarrassment creeping up on him, “when the night ends rather, prematurely.”

Tav shrugged. “Then we drink some wine and wait until you’re up to more,” she said casually tugging off the rest of his clothes. “I didn’t wait all this time to have you just once tonight anyway.”

Gale licked his lips, eyebrows twitching up in interest.

She tugged at his wrist, “lay back,” she guided him onto the bed, pushing him to sit with his back against the headboard. “We can go slow.”

Gale got comfortable, hands grabbing at her hips when she settled in his lap. Her fingers danced over the orbs mark, raised like a scar but looking almost inked in like a tattoo. The fervor had stalled just slightly, his cock still hard between them but no longer pulsing as it had in her hand.

“What would our friends say if they knew what you were hiding under those robes,” she mused, arms curling over his broad shoulders.

“I rather think I held my own on our intrepid journeys,” he said, sounding more like himself. “Aside from the creaky knees.”

“That you did,” she agreed. “I would have been lost without you.”

She kissed him, slowly and affectionately, as she lifted herself a bit. Her fingers danced down his body again, taking their time to admire the sturdiness he hid under his wizard robes day to day.

Finger nails scratched through the hair that trailed down his torso, and into the thicker patch between his legs. She gripped him again, and he moaned into her mouth, the kiss matching his needy grasp on the flesh of her hips.

Unable to help herself from teasing, she dragged the head of him through her folds, letting him feel how wet she was for him. His brow furrowed harshly.

As she lined him up and slowly sank down, she was torn between watching every minuscule change in his expression and closing her eyes to relish the perfect fit. He stopped kissing her, the shuddering breath he drew and the way his eyes started to roll back giving her that much more satisfaction.

Her own gasp filled the soundless space between them, walls fluttering at the intrusion. “Gods, you feel so good,” she whined.

Gale was speechless. Voice stolen by deep concentration, and then his eyes opened. For a singular moment Tav felt as if she was the only other person in the world, the pure look of awe and combined sharp focus of his attention made her feel ten feet tall.

How could anyone, goddess or not, take his sincere devotion for granted?

“Do you want me to move?”

“Not yet,” he whispered desperately. “Just — please, let me —“

He pulled her to him, bodies pressing at almost every point. His arms were a tight wrap around her, his cheek pressed against her forehead as she gave him gentle kisses along his neck. It felt not dissonant to their time in the astral, joined in every way, but this felt somehow more intimate. To hold him within her, and still have him hold her safely in his arms — a perfect balance she could hardly fathom.

“Kiss me,” Gale breathed. “Please.”

Tav did as asked, fingers tangled in his hair and very gently rocked her hips. He groaned, grip becoming bruising, pausing the kiss and then coming back to it again. Slowly she started to rock, then raise her hips and roll them forward until she was slowly bouncing, the slap of her skin meeting his filling the room.

Gale broke from the kiss, hands moving to the sides of her face. That same look, as if he had seen something beyond his wildest imaginings; focused, stunned and reverent. She never felt so loved in her life, she was certain.

As if she could will the same feeling into him, she pressed their foreheads together. She moaned, as he hit just right within her. Sensitive, eager and greedy she chased the sensation.

“I love you,” she gasped.

His expression crumpled, and he groaned grabbing her around the waist so she had to stop. She could feel his cock throbbing inside of her. “You are… you — I love you —“ he grunted. “Please, let me — feel you.”

She slowed her movements to a subtle rock, which rubbed against something in her that made her entire body seize up in intense sensation. He murmured affirmations to her, face buried in her hair, his hand grabbing at her ass to pull her back and forth.

“I have to feel it,” he said, need dripping from his tone, “buried in you, I must —“

Her mouth left sloppy kisses wherever she could leave them as she rutted against him. As another sweet peak approached she leaned back, bouncing just slightly to get what she needed. Gale’s eyes flicked down to her chest, to where they were joined, and back to her face. Her body started to pulse, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

It felt so good. The drag of him against her walls, the blunt intrusion as she rolled her hips. Whines fell from her lips, she closed her eyes to focus in on the sensation, head thrown back in ecstasy.

As she peaked her legs shook on either side of him, hips moving out of pure instinct for more as she felt herself tighten around him. Uncontrollable pulses, grabbing and sucking him as far as she could talk him and a gush of wetness that added deliciously lewd sounds.

Gale seemed to stop breathing for a moment, before something in him snapped. He grabbed her hips, and with bent knees and feet planted on the soft sheets began fucking up into her.

More ruthless than she had expected, desperate and selfish and needy. It was nearly enough to get her to the edge again. Grunts from somewhere in the back of his throat joined her shocked cries telling him ‘yes’ over and over again.

He watched as he disappeared inside of her, mouth open as he panted, and then finally he broke.

With a swiftness she didn’t expect he pulled out of her, but his arms came around in a caging embrace so he still rubbed against her wet folds. He whined, as his hips jerked without any sort of pattern, punctuated by the hot splashes of him coming. Sticky, wet and warm.

His body shuddered as it passed, but he did not let go of her as he caught his breath. When she lifted her head to look at him, his head was tilted back and eyes closed as he recovered. She kissed his cheek, and he opened one eye to look at her, a smile blooming on his lips.

“You’ve ruined me,” he muttered.

“And you enjoyed every moment.”

“‘Enjoyed.’” He repeated. “Very light way to put it.”

“Then how would you describe it?”

“Hm,” he breathed. “Having trouble thinking currently. I will get back to you.”

“Now that’s a real accomplishment,” Tav laughed. “I’ve rendered Gale of Waterdeep utterly speechless.”

He laughed, one eye peeking open again before he playfully kissed her on the cheek. As she nestled back into his arms, she knew they would have to break away soon to clean up the mess they had made. But for just a moment she cherished the sound of his heartbeat, calming down and steadying with his breath.

“The first of a thousand nights.” He murmured.

“Hopefully more.”

“I’ll have the rest of your nights, if you’ll allow it.”

“They’re yours.”

Thank you for reading! 💜

#bg3 fanfiction #baldur’s gate 3 fanfiction #gale x tav #gale dekarios x tav #gale of Waterdeep x Tav #bg3 gale fic #gale smut #gale fanfic

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paragonrobits · 3 months

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More fun Calvin and Hobbes facts!

Not only is Hobbes NOT an imaginary friend by word of the comic's creator, Bill Watterson, but he doesn't seem to know what an imaginary friend is, nor that plush toys in general are actually toys; Susie Derkins (a girl Calvin has complicated feelings about and tends to randomly alternate between prosecuting a rivalry between the two of them and seeming to regard her as a friend or at least someone he bothers talking to) has a plush bunny she calls Mr Bun, and Hobbes at one point notes with some concern that he seems comatose.

The comic was well known for its lavish backgrounds, and two chiefly notable examples include the woods around Calvin's house and the landscapes of his imagination; in the former, he and Hobbes often go exploring, sledding or racing around on a little red wagon, often while expressing philosophical insights (usually ending in Calvin crashing into something in a way that underscores the point of the dialogue).

On that above note, in the latter case, Calvin often imagines elaborate and fanciful settings such as alien worlds, and the tone of a lot of these vary between comedic bits of Calvin pestering people by shooting them with darts while his fantasy portrays him as a space hero fighting horrible blobby creatures.

Calvin And Hobbes probably wasn't the FIRST comic strip to follow then-current paleontological debates and scientific course, but it was written at the exact right time of increasing interest in dinosaurs as public consciousness accepted the image of them as clever, quick-moving and fierce creatures instead of the slow-moving brutes doomed to die out from earlier perspectives; while the comic initially did depict them as something akin to retrosaurs, this died away very quickly and the comic was an entry point for becoming a Dinosaur Kid for a lot of people i think

There is often a division between the vibrantly illustrated worlds of Calvin's imagination against the much more dull visuals of school he has to deal with; he frequently has trouble with his school work, he's EXTREMELY prone to acting out and causing mischief at school, and school is often portrayed as a dull, exhausting and tiring thing he hates above everything else. His fantastical worlds are fun and lovingly illustrated; the world he has to actually deal with is at best tiring.

Hobbes is essentially his only friend. Calvin doesn't really seem to want to deal with other people at all (he seems to find it difficult at best and the few times he does, he comes off as out of his depth and uncertain). While he pesters Susie at the best of times, she is also notably the ONLY person he goes out of his way to talk to at all, and some of his comments to her are strongly revealing.

Calvin himself is an EXTREMELY intelligent kid, often discussing deeply philosophical stuff, and its frequently brought up that no one knows why he struggles with schoolwork as much as he does. At one point Susie even raises the question and he gloomily replies that he finds his life is easier if he lets everyone's expectations for him be as low as possible. Interpretations have ranged from him being an undiagnosed kid on the autistic spectrum (not unlikely, given this was written from the mid 80s to mid 90s) to simply reflecting the anxieties of school for many kids of the era.

This strip exists:

#calvin and hobbes #queued

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amywritesthings · 4 months

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new year, new choso. / choso nye fic

pairing: choso kamo x f!reader ( jujutsu kaisen ) word count: 1.9k summary: Choso Kamo has never been to a New Year's Eve party. Who knew chaperoning his kid brother to Gojo's Jujutsu High party would end up like this? tags: new year's eve kiss, nye party fluff, choso is a sweet baby angel goth, and he's wearing a suit, alcohol, mentions of cards against humanity credit: dividers by @saradika dedicated to @nube55 , @sixpennydame , and @chishiyasan xo

welcome to the final day of the twelve days of amymas !!

New Year’s Eve parties are typically not your thing.

Loud music, bustling crowds, crowded rooms with crowded strangers — the whole debacle always sounded like a recipe for disaster.

Ieiri claimed that this gathering would be different. Small.

Albeit still a party by Gojo Satoru’s standards as his entire penthouse is littered with tacky balloons, confetti, and endless amounts of blinking year-end sunglasses, but tamer than anticipated.

It’s probably something to do with the fact that said gathering included his students from Jujutsu High.

The teenagers all crowd in the dead center of the living room excitedly playing Cards Against Humanity while Gojo's colleagues and friends mingle about the main floor.

(There’s just something about watching a cursed panda argue that his cards are accurate to the prompt as opposed to the obscene and filthy winners — ironically, a silent kid with cursed speech tattoos holds the jackpot of black cards.)

You were once destined to become a sorcerer yourself, but you’d hung it up for a simpler life. Not unlike your best friend, Shoko, but not as close to the Jujutsu world.

Then again, you never really get away from this life. Not really.

(Only thirty minutes left until the new year.)

“Did you need a refill?”

The gentle question comes out of nowhere to your side, breaking your concentration of the rowdy game.

When you turn your head, you’re immediately taken by a dark-haired man with a thin, black strip covering the bridge of his nose like a blush. He wears a maroon button-up, satin to the eye, and a dark suit jacket to compliment his pale complexion. His shoulder-length dark hair is in a half up-do, fixed hastily in a tiny bun at the crown of his head.

Your first thought? He’s beautiful.

Your second thought? You find yourself staring for too long, lips parted with an answer you’ve all but forgotten.

The man blinks back at you, shuffling in the uncertain silence.

“I, uh — sorry, I probably should have said ‘hello’ like a normal person and —”

“Uh, sure, I could walk with you?” you blurt, hating yourself for the way his eyes round with his own bout of confusion. “For a refill. I’m getting kind of stiff sitting against this wall.”

He’s a stranger, even if it’s technically a friend’s party.

You’ve been taught from birth that you should take care of your own drinks — but that doesn’t mean you can’t accompany someone as alluring as him to go grab a new mixed drink.

God knows Gojo bought out the entire liquor store despite how seventy-five percent of the party can’t drink and, the irony, Gojo doesn’t drink.

(An overachiever even in the art of hosting, Shoko joked before she dipped for a smoke break.)

Right.

You're dissociating.

Back to the guy in front of you.

“And hi,” you add lamely after a beat.

The stranger fights a smile, choosing to rush a small huff of air.

“Hi. Name's Choso Kamo,” he awkwardly introduces. “And yeah, I wouldn’t mind the company.”

He fidgets with a button of his dress shirt, popping it absently.

“Feels a little crowded here.”

"A little," you agree, gesturing for him to show the way.

Shoulder to shoulder you both walk to the drink table, not saying a word.

You note how the stranger — this Choso — keeps his eyes on the table of kids as they heavily debate which answer should win: the cold, dead fingers card dropped by a triumphant Kugisaki, versus the Daniel Radcliff’s delicious asshole card slipped in by a stone-faced Megumi.

“Dying to join in on the game?” you joke, trying to break the slow-building tension.

“Hmm? Oh. God, no. I’m not getting involved in that war.” The man blinks to you, his expression softening for a moment. “My kid brother’s over there.”

“Which one is he?”

Choso smiles small, clearly proud to point him out.

He fills his cup with a moderate amount of rum and soda, mixing it with a wooden stirrer.

“The pink-haired one. Yuji.”

Yuji isn’t hard to spot, not by a long shot.

He’s giggling between Megumi and Kugisaki, joyously playing moderator to the budding fight for who has the best card this round.

When you turn back to Choso, you see his smile has widened.

“He’s got his work cut out for him if he’s the Card Szarr this round," you say.

Choso laughs breathily and takes a sip. “Yeah, his friends are a little brutal. Good kids, but… opinionated.”

(As proudly displayed by the way the finalists shout at one another. Yuji laughs hard, shaking his head — only to pull a major upset by choosing the panda’s card instead.)

“He’s the only reason I’m here,” Choso adds belatedly, seemingly wishing to keep the conversation going. “I’m not exactly friends with the guy who threw this thing.”

“Who, Gojo?” you ask. He nods. “Me neither. My best friend managed to drag me out of my cave. Not sure if you know her — Shoko Iieri?”

Choso shakes his head.

“Can’t say I do. Then again, I could say that about everyone. I only really came so my brother and his friends had a chaperone home." He straightens once he's done filling his drink. "I take it you don’t normally do these things, either?”

“That’s nice of you,” you comment, filling the rest of your drink before clinking the glass to his. “And no, I kind of hate parties. Way more of a quiet environment sort of person.”

“You and me both,” he commiserates. “Believe it or not, this is my first New Year’s Eve out.”

“Really? Your first, ever?”

He nods. “It’s a little complicated. Jujutsu shit.”

The words make you accidentally bark out a laugh, startling Choso.

He warms to it, however, and laughs with you.

“Jujutsu shit is very much something I can’t seem to get away from,” you explain.

“Guess I found the one person at this party that gets me,” Choso admits with a dissolving chuckle, the black strip on his nose sprinkled with a gentle pink blush at his confession. “Yuji was pretty insistent on making it a big deal, given it’s my first real holiday outing. We spent Christmas just with the two of us this year — sorry, am I talking too much?”

You sip your drink and shake your head. “I like listening.”

It’s the truth: this man is interesting.

Clearly he’s not completely of this realm, that much you’re quite certain of, but he’s truly trying to be human.

Choso fumbles, but he’s honest about his experience.

It’s a refreshing taking on a world you’ve become so cynical about.

“I usually don’t talk this much,” he admits; his second confession of the night. He sighs and shakes his head. “Anyway, yeah. Christmas was solo, but he wanted to do this big party with his friends. Begged me to come along. New Year’s is an interesting idea, but the traditions… I don’t know.”

He squints at nothing in particular as he thinks.

“There’s so much I want to try now that I’ve got this life.”

“Like what?”

“Well, I have the drinking part down,” he tells you, glancing down at his glass and outfit. “I dressed up, though given what everyone else wore—”

Sweaters. Jeans. Nothing fancy — not like him.

“—I think I screwed that part up.”

“I think you look amazing, for what it’s worth,” you blurt, and he catches your eye with an appreciative glow.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, suits always look good.”

Choso grins, albeit briefly, yet the growing confidence lingers.

“Party games, though I’m happier to watch than play right now. Then there’s that New Year’s kiss thing?”

Oh.

He turns to you for confirmation, but you damn well know your face is on fire from the implication.

“When the clock strikes midnight, you’re supposed to kiss someone," he explains like you're new to this, too. "Make a wish or promise or whatever so that the next year is going to be better.”

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He leans in a fraction further, dropping his voice to a murmur. “That's what I heard, anyway.”

You’re expecting him to have a but scoot into that sentence, but he pauses to search your face for the right or wrong answer.

“I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss,” you admit — it's now your turn to confess.

His brows furrow. “Really? Never?”

You shake your head. “Maybe that’s why my years have been so shitty lately.”

Choso nods with a grave understanding. “Could be.”

A few of the teenagers cheer, abandoning the game to turn on the main television.

The clock is only a few minutes until midnight.

Three, to be exact.

Suddenly the drink in your hand becomes your life line.

“I admit that I didn’t know if you needed a refill on your drink,” Choso pipes up, slow and careful. You turn your attention from the television broadcast to look at him. “I only came here to make sure Yuji had a good time with his friends, but then I saw you come in with that woman.”

Wait, he saw you come in?

When you say nothing, he sucks in a sharp inhale to explain himself.

“I spent an hour working up the courage to come talk to you. I couldn’t think of anything to say. You’re so damn pretty, and you seemed fine hanging out by yourself or with her, and so I thought — I mean, I needed a refill and some liquid courage — so it — do you get what I’m saying?”

No, no you don’t and yes, yes you do.

“You’re very pretty yourself,” you tell him without thinking, causing his eyes to widen. Yours follow suit, rounding like saucers. “I mean — yeah, as soon as I noticed you, I thought you were attractive—”

“People go out for coffee, right?” he interrupts as if he’s been waiting all night to ask. “When they think someone is pretty, they… go out for coffee or dinner or walks.”

One minute remaining.

Choso pauses to stare into your eyes, earnest and true.

“I’d love to go out for some coffee, or whatever dinner you want, or even just a walk. Maybe. Some time. If you’re… free.”

A date.

Forty seconds until the new year, and you’ve already scored yourself a date.

“We could do one of those things,” you murmur. Choso’s face brightens. “Maybe all of them. And we could start it off with…”

Twenty seconds.

“Making a wish?” the dark-haired man suggests when you trail off, rounding towards you so he’s closer.

For someone who says he has a lot to experience, you’re surprised that he seems to cage you in with experience.

If it wasn’t for his eyes begging you to confirm that this is what you want, then you’d think maybe he was a liar.

“Yeah. For a great new year,” you explain, lifting your chin.

Ten seconds.

“For a great new year,” he exhales with a promise, leaning in.

His hand reaches to gently cup your face as though mesmerized by how soft your skin feels beneath his palm.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

The clock strikes midnight, and a pair of plush, timid lips gingerly press to yours.

You meet with an eager kiss, and you swear you feel Choso’s mouth curve into a satisfied smile against yours.

(Maybe next year really will be better.)

#choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #choso kamo fluff #choso x you #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk fanfiction #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #choso fanfic #choso fic #choso kamo fanfiction #choso kamo fanfic #nye fic #twelve days of amymas

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daycourtofficial · 3 months

Text

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 3

Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.

(Part 1) (Part 2)(Part 4)

Author’s note: I’m a bit uncertain about this part tbh :/ on one hand I love it, on the other I’m not sure

It had been a few days since Azriel went with you to return the truck, and you hadn’t seen much of him or Cassian since. Cassian had told you they were both personal trainers at the same gym, and he even went so far as to put his schedule up on the fridge so you would know when he’d be gone.

Looking at the schedule, he had even left a sticky note telling you he had plans before work and that he wouldn’t be back all day.

Your day alone in the apartment didn’t go as well as you had hoped it would, your phone buzzing around noon, the name Dad lighting up your phone.

You sigh, letting it go to voicemail, and decide to call Feyre to avoid thinking about him. She picks up on the third ring, her voice chirping through the phone, “hello?”

“Hey Fey, do you wanna do something today? I don’t want to wallow all alone.”

She sighs over the phone, “I wish I could, but I’m walking into work right now. I can’t call out when they can see me walking in the doors.”

You sigh, “do you know if Mor’s free?”

You can hear some commotion from Feyre’s surroundings, like she’s walking into a building.

“Mor has that internship she just started, I think she’s busy getting things ready for that.”

A beat pauses before Feyre continues, “I gotta go, but I’ll call you when I get off, okay? We can do something tomorrow if you’re free.”

You smile, “can we go to that axe throwing place we’ve been talking about for ages?”

She laughs, “absolutely. I’ll even print out a photo of your dad and hang it up on the target. Okay, I really gotta go, but if you wanna text me you can. I’ll respond when I can. Love you!”

She waits for you to echo her sentiment before hanging up, leaving you alone again. You spend the day trying to distract yourself, finding anything you can to distance yourself from the loneliness you feel. You unpack a few boxes you hadn’t gotten to, and after being fully moved in, you pour yourself a glass of soda to commemorate the occasion.

You sip from your glass as you begin cleaning the apartment, organizing the pantry, cleaning out the fridge, hell you even strip Cassian’s bed and clean his sheets and comforter.

Once the place is clean, you run out to the store, picking up what you need to make your favorite meal. You unpack your groceries when you come back, pour yourself a glass of wine, and sigh in contentment at spending an evening alone cooking your favorite pasta dish. You are determined to salvage some part of today, even if it’s just with a nice dinner. You’re playing music from your phone, the sounds drowning out the notification of a voicemail from your father that you’ve been ignoring all day.

You sip your wine as you stir the pasta, however the blaring sound of an ad startles you, causing wine to go all over the front of your clothes. You sigh, looking to the ceiling for strength to not break down. You take some deep breaths before peeling off your wine soaked dress, opening the laundry door to throw it into the washing machine. You’re hopeful that getting it in immediately will help prevent a stain from setting in, but you still pour a little extra stain remover in.

Once you get the machine going, standing in your kitchen in your underwear, you decide to make the most of this. The day sucked. All day all you had wanted to do was hide under your covers, hide from the world. You took a deep breath and told yourself “I’m done hiding.”

Your favorite song starts playing, and knowing that Cassian won’t be home for several more hours, you dance. You jump around your apartment, whipping your head around, letting out the loose bun your hair was in for the day.

You skip around, the sounds of Super Trouper by ABBA drowning out the door opening until suddenly something stops your music. Turning around you find Rhys’s hand hovering over your phone, having just stopped the music, and Azriel, whose gaze is on you, soaking in every detail of your little show.

You blink a few times, trying to ensure this is not a nightmare, however you don’t snap back to reality until the timer goes off for the pasta. All three of you whip your heads towards the timer, it’s tone jarring all three of you back to the present.

You groan, starting to back away back to your room. “What are you guys doing here?” You exclaim, “but more importantly - please drain my pasta while I find pants.”

You slip into your room, finding a comfy pair of sweats and a crop top, coming back out to find Azriel draining your pasta into the colander.

“Well?” You ask, cutting up the chicken you had pan-fried earlier. Azriel won’t look you in the eye, a blush evident across his face as he’s turned in the opposite direction, facing away from you.

Rhysand doesn’t have the same affliction.

He smirks at you, “is this how Cassian gets greeted when he comes home? I must say I’d be more chipper coming home to that little show than to Azriel.”

Azriel does not respond to the jab. Instead, he picks up another knife, helping you cut. Rhys just stands behind you two, leaning against the fridge.

“Cassian most certainly does not get greeted by my bare ass when he comes home,” you respond indignantly. The two of you have finished chopping, so you motion for all the chicken and the pasta to go into the pan with the pesto sauce concoction you’ve made. Azriel helps you stir it, and once it’s evenly distributed, you two pop it into the oven.

“Well your ass wasn’t bare, it was slightly covered by your very cute-“

The task at hand done and a new timer set, you turn to face Rhys, cutting him off. “I spilled wine on my clothes and I didn’t want it to set and then I got carried away when Abba came on.”

He only smiles back, “got a hot date for dinner tonight?”

Azriel tenses ever so slightly, but you don’t think too much of it as you respond, “yeah word on the street is she has an incredible rack and a great ass.”

“Having seen them first hand I think the rumors are true.”

You roll your eyes, but decide you’re done with this game and want some sincerity.

“I had a shitty day and I just wanted my favorite meal.” You look down, crossing your arms. You don’t like being vulnerable, especially around people you just met. You think about Cassian, and how much he loves the two guys in front of you. Maybe you can take a leap, and perhaps they’ll catch you.

“I’d actually enjoy the company if you guys want to stay. I made plenty of pasta to wallow in so I think there’s enough to go around.”

Your eyes stay on the ground as you move your hands up and down your arms, a nervous movement. You watch as Azriel’s foot comes into view, standing in front of you as he gently taps his foot against yours, a silent request to look at him. “I love pasta,” he tells you, looking into your eyes. You’re struck by the absence of pity in them, and how they are full of sincerity, of kindness.

You look away from him when Rhys starts talking, “It’s decided. You got a two for one deal tonight - two hot dates for the evening.”

You smile, the thought of being alone almost overbearing, when you remember, “why did you guys come over here anyway?”

Azriel sheepishly looks away, clearly thinking about how they caught you half naked when they walked in the door. Rhys tells you, “we wanted to watch Forest Gump and we knew Cassian had it on Blu-ray.”

You nod, looking over at Cassian’s wall of dvds and blu-rays, which you had to admit was quite impressive. “I’ve never seen it - is it any good?”

When Cassian got off work from the gym, he thought he’d come home to a dark apartment, scrounging the fridge for any remnants of food. What he didn’t expect to find was his two brothers watching Forrest Gump, and seeing a tupperware container in the fridge with a sticky note with his name on it in Azriel’s neat script.

He walks in, Azriel shooting daggers at him. The audacity, Cassian thinks, watching a movie in my place and being annoyed that I’m here. That is until he comes close enough to notice your head in Azriel’s lap, a hand curled up on his thigh. His eyes linger on his brother’s hand that is slowly massaging your scalp, the hands he had always been so nervous and protective over. Cassian realizes he’s never seen his brother leave his hands to be so openly observed outside of his brothers.

He stares for a minute as your blanketed back slowly rises and falls, clearly asleep, before he turns, giving his brother a shit eating grin where they have a conversation without words. The conversation essentially boils down to Cassian’s eyebrows raising up and down, and Azriel’s continued scowl at Cassian’s inability to move through a room without making as much noise as possible.

Azriel doesn’t relax until Cassian is sitting on the other couch next to Rhys, tuning into the movie when Forrest is walking around Washington D.C.

“She didn’t even make it halfway through the movie,” Cassian whispers to Rhys.

“No,” Rhys replies, looking at you curled up on the couch, a soft smile on his face, “but she did ask us to stay for dinner.”

#acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #acotar writing #azriel x y/n

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leggerefiore · 5 months

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A sweet and slightly silly idea:

The first homemade meal Ingo eats after returning from Hisui has him experiencing a flashback like Ego from ‘Ratatouille’, especially if it’s something that he used to eat a lot or has sentimental value. He gets the thousand-yard stare and goes dead silent before scarfing it down.

cw: short, fluff, post-pla ingo

Ingo's new oddities had been a bit distressing at first, certainly. His inability to recognise the places that should be familiar to him was the most concerning among them, but his many scars and fresh injuries also stirred worries. But, he was alive and mostly well. Memories scrambled yet somehow the same old Ingo. Amnesia could not keep a good train man from yelling out “All aboard,” it seemed.

There were many challenges in helping the poor man readjust to the modern day. His ability to navigate Nimbasa had become poor, but he was quickly relearning everything. There was some inherent distrust towards people, perhaps stirred by the environment that he had been in previously. He even seemed more on edge towards wild pokemon themselves, which made interacting with even passive pokemon, like Lillipup, an experience. Yet, old habits died hard as you saw him speaking softly to a wild Purrloin or seeming to be enchanted by the sight of a Litwick.

Now, all of that was important, but something had crossed your mind when you considered the health of your amnesic lover. He was now strangely muscular… His appetite seemed to have been increased from what it was before his disappearance. You hummed to yourself as it swirled in your mind. Had you made him something since his return? You realised it quickly. No, you had not.

Confirming that he was still at home by peeking into the living room where his old pokemon had surrounded him and demanded his attention, you rushed into the kitchen and checked your supplies. You appeared to have everything you needed. Slowly, you began to shape ground beef and work to make a lovely sauce to pair that Ingo had always seemed to enjoy. The smell in the air was a pleasant shift as sizzling sounds echoed out. Soon, you had a delicious hamburger made and prepared to Ingo's previous enjoyment.

Calling him to the table, you watched as he stared at the sandwich for a moment. The smell of onions wafted about while you hoped that he could still handle some level of spice. He sat still for a moment, clearly uncertain for some reason. You hoped it was not too much for him. It finally hit you that he had likely been on an entirely different diet in Hisui. Shame was just about to creep over your mind when he reached a hand out to grab the dish.

His hands instantly seemed to recall how to hold it as he brought it to his mouth to bite into it. He closed his eyes for a moment as distant memories seemed to just ghost around his mind tauntingly. Voices talking about various things with his job or day. A phantom hug around him with a faint kiss on his cheek. The cold air of the outside changing into something warm with the creaking of a door. Then, a single memory. One where his twin sat with him and you. He seemed younger, lacking their shared facial hair and bagged eyes. Laughter came from Emmet as a Joltik tried to run off with a piece of his bun. He felt a sigh come from him as he began to scold him, but was cut off by his Excadrill grabbing on to his leg and looking up at him with pleading eyes. What a mess, he had thought.

He came back to reality slowly, realising he was chewing his food for too long and finally swallowed it. His eyes drifted to you. You barely seemed that different from his memory. How much time had passed since then? Had Hisui just aged him. Ingo took another bite. You smiled at him sweetly.

“Do you like it, Ingo? I wasn't sure if you could handle the chilli oil you usually liked on it…” You scratched your head nervously. He had not even noticed the heat, honestly.

“I love it, dearest,” the words slipped from his lips with little thought as he gave a smile, “Thank you for making it for me.”

You both felt a little closer after so long apart.

(Then you realised he had not had processed cheese in a while. There was not saving him.)

#pokemon x reader #ingo x reader #pokemon ingo x reader #ingo/reader #pokemon/reader

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jjongswannabebae · 6 months

Text

< !!experimental!! not sure what this is but i wanted to write, written in 3rd pov. includes some vague smut tw: mention of a bruise (not sh) , food, psychotic behaviour, death (16+) >

dreamer.

She was a dreamer. One that would swing her arms beside her torso to breeze her sweat draped body or clutch her little 90s cassette tape in her hands as she doodled some gibberish listening to same tape over n over hunched over the one of convience store tables

Maybe it was this intriguing petite figure that aroused jays interest. He often think she'd fit in his pocket, that he wanted to take her away forever. And he'd keep her there with him, away from the world.

Call it cliche, but he was the polar opposite. He dragged his feet to a ditch that he made somewhere by the woods by a tree as his house. He'd watch her for days, working behind the counter as she sat on one of the tables everyday to study or draw, or do nothing at all.

She always stayed till closing.

With the same grey sweater wrapped onto her sleek frame, he'd never caught sight of her without the fabric. The mundane banana milk and chocolate bun in her hand that routinely slid over the counter.

A bit strange to eat the same thing everyday but he never uttered a word.

Never got her name.

Just saw a black bruise on her arm one day as her sweater rode up her arm where she distastefully yet hastily rushed to cover it up again.

Maybe that was what flipped the switch for him. He wanted to protect her, he decided swiftly. Striding over to the petite girl, he grabbed her hand and dragged her to his little fort.

Wondering a little that she wasn't frightened at all confirmed his suspicion.

"you're mine now."

Never dared to speak a word, she blinked back dazed. Then a smile peered through with a hearty nod.

She would go home with him after that day, everyday, only leaving for school in the morning and living with him the rest of the time.

She'd adored him, he thought, the way her eyes glimmered at him as he would say something was a major give away. He would always think of these and never voice them, just as she didn't.

She never spoke— he'd always ask about but to get no reply, on numerous occasions he'd try to get her to talk or say a word but she'd only smile and nod her head. Like a broken glass doll she stayed.

being touch starved, she peck a kiss or hang from his arm at her lean waist, feeling the bones often a time, but he chose to focus on making love to her than anything else.

With your rather delicate frame he'd be careful with his thick lather sliding the first thrust and would check up on you, seemingly now and then as he wrecked havoc inside her. It was a dangerous ordeal for her to swing around him for long.

She decided she had enough from this bizarre man and ran off one night as he snored lightly clutching onto the pillow, fooled it was her.

jay lived in an uncertain fit, a small dingy self built tree house per se. No real job or qualifications except the part time behind the counter. No economical stability but atleast he was mentally stable, he'd like to think.

That day he woke with an enormous rumbling and found her somewhere near the store and this time, he took her by hand lightly and back to his house. This time he'd give a kiss on the lips, licking her bottom lip and biting on her neck now and then.

"you know I love you," he said inbetween his kisses as he fiddled with his belt and swung it around her neck for her to hold, he'd think in his self monologue and continued on with his expression of love.

She loves me, she can never leave me.

Some day, on his way back an unambiguous day, he'd find a sweet smell coming from his adobe. He hurried past the unstable steps and barge the door open to find the place deserted and scurried into the only other room, his room.

He found her sat there, perched like an eagle with a listless expression. He smiled, his hand running through her coarse and tangled hair as he admired her deathly hollow face, her favourite sweater in shreds on the flooring that lay beside her.

"i brought you your banana milkshake and chocolate bun!" he added, placing them right beside all the other untouched packs and cartons of the items, some opened and rot, filling the foul air with its rancid smell. The stench of her rotting body was sweet to him. He pushed a smile to her unmoving, still body and laughed a little and whispered a soft "I love you"

All bad seemed good and all the good seemed bad to him, he was insane, psychotic, severely ill it whatever his family and friends called him. but that's okay. her opinion mattered the mos.

She loves him.

Jay loves her.

#enhypen #jay x reader #enhypen smut #jay smut #enhypen jay #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen angst #enhypen horror #park jongseong #enha smut #jay hard hours #jay hard thoughts #jay fanfic

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ikeromantic · 11 months

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Mitsuhide Never 😡

For @nellzzz some Mitsuhide angst, because romancing the kitsune is never simple. Approx. 800 words of Never with our favorite foxy warlord.

Mitsuhide looked up from his work, a frown in place of his usual sharp smile. He hated being disturbed while he worked. There were few enough hours in the day to do all the things that needed doing. He readied a sharp comment that died on his lips as he looked up.

The chatelaine stood in the doorway, an uncertain expression on her pretty face.

He felt his annoyance evaporate. A fluttery feeling replaced it in his gut, a warm, delicate affection that surprised him every time it struck. Mitsuhide was no blushing maiden nor virgin boy. But the chatelaine had this effect on him. He hid it behind his serpent’s smile. “Mai! What an unexpected pleasure.”

She took a step inside and looked around. It wasn’t her first time visiting his study but it seemed caution was her watchword where he was concerned. “Good evening.” Her eyes tracked around the room, looking anywhere but at him.

Mitsuhide stood and came around his desk. “Is there something you needed? Not that I mind you dropping in . . .”

Mai startled as she realized he was closer. “I - I didn’t - I mean . . . I just stopped by to let you know . . .”

He could see her struggling to tell him the lie she’d crafted before walking over. Knowing how ridiculous it would sound now that she was here and looking him in the eye. He let her flounder, his smile growing wider as she grasped for words.

“That is . . . tomorrow. Masamune is making lunch.”

Mitsuhide stepped closer yet. “He does that every day.”

“Mhmm. But! This one is special!” The words came out an adorable squeak.

“Was that your excuse to come visit me? You wanted to see me so badly?” He chuckled. “You know you can come over anytime, Mai. And stay as long as you like.” His fingers stretched out to tuck a loose bit of hair back into her bun.

Her gaze snapped onto him as she slapped his hand away. “Hey!”

Mitsuhide laughed again. “It’s ok, Mai. You don’t need to pretend. No one is watching us here.” He leaned close, watching the way her eyes widened. The slight shift toward him as he body fought with her mind.

“If you don’t care about the invitation, I can just go,” she replied, but her heart wasn’t in it.

“Do you want me to kiss you again, little mouse? Is that what brought you scurrying here, late at night and alone? If it was just an invitation to lunch, Masamune would have sent a servant.” The memory of their last shared kiss burned through him. A stolen moment after a feast, a dark hallway, the feel of her pressed against him. Breath coming in short gasps as lips parted and came together again.

She looked away. “No.”

“I can tell when you’re lying.” He brushed against her cheek as he spoke, and felt a shiver pass through her.

“Don’t.”

Mitsuhide slid his hand from her shoulder down her arm. “Why don’t you stay the night, hm? It’s late. And you told no one where you were going. Not even Masamune.”

Mai inhaled sharply. “How . . . damn it. Stop reading my mind.”

“Can you imagine what it would be like to make love to a man who knows what you want?” His lips grazed her ear. “One who reads your mind so that you never need speak your desires aloud? Merely think of them, and I will give them to you.”

Her skin was hot and flushed, heart racing. “That’s never going to happen.” The words lacked any conviction, coming as they did with a needy breath.

Mitsuhide bowed his head to press a kiss to the sensitive spot on her neck, just below her ear. “All you need do is permit me, Mai. Say yes. No one will know what happened here tonight. No one but us.”

He could feel she was at the cusp of surrender. She wanted him as much as he did her. It was only pride that held her aloft. Mai pushed him away. “Never. I don’t . . . I don’t want you.”

The words cut more deeply than he would let her see. He turned his smile hard and sharp. “I see my teasing has more an effect than I expected. Interesting.” Mitsuhide sat back down at his desk and picked up a piece of correspondence.

“Mitsuhide.” Her voice was thick with emotion, a tangle even she couldn’t see all the skeins of.

“Go, Mai. I am bored with our game and quite busy. Your message was delivered and I want nothing else from you.” He glanced up. “And you want nothing else from me. So why do you linger?”

Hurt and anger flickered in her gaze. She turned and stalked away without another word.

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen mitsuhide #mitsuhide akechi #fanfiction #fanfic #otome #otome guys #light angst

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lilap20 · 3 months

Text

Chapter Five: The Dragon's Descent into Winterfell

Chapter five updated:

@koobratzy, @beebeechaos

What marked the marriage of the heir to the throne was the blood shed But also the King's illness showed itself to everyone, spitting blood and falling A few moons later, Lord Cregan Stark sent a Raven The King and his Small Council agreed, Princess Nymeria and Lord Cregan were to be married.

When I get up this morning my stomach is knotted with excitement and the hurried noises in the Palace make me smile, it's the day!

I'm going to go north with my ladies, my sister and her husband for my wedding. Port Réal and Winterfell have been in contact for several moons discussing the preparations and the number of guests, not being close to Cregan during the preparations is my only regret, but I know he cannot go south whenever he wants , he has duties and the costs for such a trip would be overpriced.

All the Lords of the North will be present, my uncle and aunt Corlys and Rhaenys, Queen Alicent who will represent my sick father, my dear sister and her husband.

My heart sinks thinking of Daemon and Leana, they should be there, but I know that my cousin is waiting and that Daemon prefers to keep her in Pentos and then leave for Drithmark, I don't blame him, he takes care of her wife and would not want her to have any worries during her pregnancy which is admirable.

-Princess, are you up?

Talyssa opens the door, peeking her head in then smiles when she sees me sitting with a dreamy smile on my face.

-Happy ? Talyssa asks, sitting down next to me.

Her long red hair is held in a bun and her blue eyes shine, she is as happy as me, she is happy for me. She opens her arms and I fall into them, she strokes my hair while humming.

-Are you ready for the big trip? -I'll be on Dragon's back, Nightmares will quickly catch up with the boat, it won't be that long. -I speak of your long journey to the North, Nymeria.

The gentleness of his tone makes me nervous and happy at the same time, for three moons I prepared for my marriage to my new life in the North, but never, never have I felt so uncertain, I am sure of my choice but I'm scared.

-I'm ready, even if I'm a little scared. Will the Nordiens accept me? Will they be afraid of my dragon? And this heir thing.

I want children, but the labor is what scares me the most, my mother died from it, my grandmother died from it, it’s something that runs in our family.

-Everything will go well, Nymeria, you will see. Talyssa reassures me

I nod, slowly detaching myself from her.

-Okay, we need to prepare you for the long journey that awaits us.

I hide my mocking expression when I hear her, which earns her a frown.

-What ?

-You're the one who has to get ready, you're going up with me, remember?

Talyssa turns white, becoming as pale as a worm, I burst out laughing at her decomposition before getting up to head towards the bath that my ladies are preparing. The steam rises in the room and I shiver with pure pleasure as I slide in, savoring the heat on my body.

I don't do anything, everyone takes care of me, even Rhaenyra comes to help me in my preparation, she takes seriously her role as eldest nurturing me and making me laugh. I put on my riding boots that go perfectly with my black riding outfit and my side cape in the red colors of my House. A dragon head brooch sits in my braided hairstyle and another on my outfit.

-You have grown so much, Nymeria. Rhaenyra whispers as she finishes my braids

-Look who says that, I laugh and she does too

The wedding, Daemon and Leana, the noises of the court, everything changed her and made her mature building the folds on her forehead. She understood that even if she was named heir, she would have to fight for her throne and her place. And I will always be by her side no matter what happens.

-You are so pretty, he doesn't realize how lucky he is. She smiled, placing her hands on my shoulders.

-Oh I think he knows, I frown, I hope.

She laughs, shaking her head before helping me get up, her purple gaze turns to find my sword on my table with my compass, a gift from my uncle who never left me.

-He should be there, remarks Rhaenyra, I know he would like to be there for you.

The lack of Daemon will be felt for both of us, for her because they are linked by the same flame, for me because Daemon is my greatest confidant.

-He sent me a gift. I respond by going towards the package

Ser Erryck took it to me yesterday, I didn't open it I wanted to wait until the wedding day. The emotion touches my heart when I caress the package.

-Shall we open it? Rhaenyra asks curiously.

I smile wistfully putting down the package to look at my sister. I know she's curious about what Daemon bought me but that's between him and me.

-On my wedding day I will open it.

-It won't be long. Rhae grumbles and I burst out laughing

There is a knock at the door and my sister turns to give permission to enter, Talyssa stands up after folding the last item of clothing, Ser Erryck pokes his head in and we all greet him, my heart sinking a little when his gaze passes over me.

The love he has for me is just impossible to live with, my sister, may the Gods help her, is already in this kind of relationship and I can't attract problems while she can have them.

-Yes Ser? I ask with a shy smile -Departure is coming soon Princess, your father wants you in his apartments.

I nod following him as Rhae and Talyssa order the servants to take the packages leaving after me to head towards the Dragonpit. In the corridors I can hear Alicent's children bickering in the big court. Except for my little sister, I won't miss them.

-I hope everything goes well in the North Princess. Smiled Ser Erryck

-Well you'll be there to see it. I smile as I stand in front of my father's door

Ser Erryck's body goes rigid and he tenses with guilt on his face.

-What is happening ? I ask with apprehension

He looks away and my breath catches, don't tell me he's not coming? He cannot stay here, he is my knight, my shield, he swore to me, only me or the King can free him from his commitment.

-I will not follow you to the North. He confesses and my heart bleeds immediately

-I did not authorize you to leave your post, Ser Erryck. My voice trembles as I say it

He sighs visibly embarrassed and refuses to look at me, I don't like it when he doesn't look at me, I don't like it when his gaze doesn't find mine. He has always been my most faithful companion and my friend.

-You will be the Lady of Winterfell, your husband will be your knight, the King and Queen, I tense, have asked that I stay for Prince Aegon.

I close my eyes, a tear rolling down my cheek, by the Seven, why do I have to separate from him? Alicent took Cole under her wings and now she takes Ser Erryck for her son. Is this provocation?

-I'm sorry Princess Nymeria, it was an honor to serve you. He bow and I let go of more than one tear

Without him expecting it, I rush towards him and hug him, wanting to stay like that as long as possible.

-Thank you for everything Ser, I will not forget you, I will send you a raven every Moon, I promise.

Stunned by my gesture, he hesitates to hug me back but decides to do so, crumpling the fabric of my riding outfit.

- Your adventure begins Princess Nymeria, be happy.

He gently separates from me, his hand comes to caress my cheek and wipe my tears, then he walks away, knocks on the door and announces me. I breathe through my nose looking melancholy at his silhouette, my father under the influence of Alicent sent him for Aegon, I dare to believe that he will be a little happy since his twin is also in the service of this kid.

-Enter my daughter.

I enter the room, standing in front of my father. He sits at his table with ancient Valyria before him, his work that he cherishes so much. I approach with my hands clasped in front of me, my father's tired but happy smile warms my heart, he gets up to walk towards me, but I stop him coming towards him, taking his hands and sitting down in front of him. him.

-You are so beautiful my daughter, the portrait of your mother. My father caresses my hand with a shy smile on his face

At the mention of my mother, my hand twitches in hers, it's a subject we've never talked about.

-I don't know what to tell you, he admits, you were so close to your mother, very little to me, he sighs, I wish she was there to say the right words to you.

Heading towards Dragonpit my father's words loop in my mind, he killed my mother and regrets but now we are left with nothing but tears. My mother would have loved to see this wedding, sick or not, she would have come to the North, she would have prepared me and she would have loved Cregan.

When I arrive my concerns disappear when I see Talyssa pale in front of the grandeur of Syrax, the golden dragon growls with happiness seeing Rhaenyra in riding gear with a bag hanging on her dragon's seal.

-Where is Nightmares? I ask my sister taking Talyssa by the hand

-Gone to steal, he's coming. I suppose.

Rhaenyra mounts her dragon which lets out a roar of pure pleasure which makes Talyssa jump, her face disfigured with fear as the dragon advances towards us. I don't move, squeezing her hand in mine to reassure myself, and I almost burst out laughing when she lets out a horrified cry at the powerful arrival of Nightmares.

Nightmares roars at Syrax, his hiss mixed with a loud growl almost makes me think of Caraxes. My dragon's head flies over mine, fearlessly confronting that of my sister. I automatically turn towards him to stroke his white scales so he can feel my warmth. Once done, he lowers himself towards me, his blue gaze in mine, his pupils becoming tender.

-Hello big guy, I’m glad to see you. I simper while caressing his neck

Talyssa nearly falls into the palms several times, standing between two dragons my best friend and lady-in-waiting frantically taps her foot on the ground from stress.

-I see we've already put the seal on you, I pull Talyssa towards me while talking to my dragon, look who's traveling with us.

Talyssa turns pale when she meets my dragon's gaze, he moves his head towards her, his fangs coming out to intimidate her.

-By the Seven, Talyssa swears in fear, I feel like a lamb offered to die.

I burst out laughing, stroking Talyssa's hand before bringing her to my dragon, he pulls his head back a little before gently bringing it back towards us, my best friend's fingers relax on the warm scales of my dragon.

-Oh… Talyssa marvels as our hands caress him

Her mouth forms a perfect O as she marvels at my dragon's reaction. After ten minutes of petting it, I take Talyssa towards the seal, using the stool I manage to climb on my dragon before offering my hand to my lady in waiting.

Nightmares groans as he feels both of us on top of him, he shakes his head as I secure our feet in the spears so we don't slip.

-Hold on to me, Talyssa. I command her and she clings to me like someone clinging to their life

I smile when I feel it, holding tightly to the front of my seal, Nightmares roars with happiness before hastily following Syrax who goes towards the end of the cliff without worrying about the guardians.

My blood pulses in my veins when I see Syrax let go of the cliff to fly away, Talyssa screams seeing that Nightmares does not slow down and does not open its wings to take off. Excitement shakes my body as we fall off the cliff. Talyssa screams as she holds me and I scream with joy as I feel the wind against my face.

In a minute Nightmares opens its wings and we hover in the air, the dragon kicks its wings to return to cloud level, Talyssa still holds me tight, my eyes probably closed.

-You can open your eyes Talyssa. -Are we stabilized? she asks scared -We always have been. I sigh, rolling my eyes to the sky

Then she slowly opens her eyes and an “oh” escapes her mouth when she looks down. Port-Réal is magnificent from below, life in the capital is more enjoyable from above. The wind is undoubtedly blowing our hair, I order my dragon to climb higher, above the clouds. Nightmares roared as he obeyed, we quickly caught up to Syrax and flew lightly alongside him.

-At this speed, we will quickly join the royal boats! Talyssa screams so I can hear her

-That's for sure, I respond, quickly stroking Nightmares, let's not waste time.

Giving Nightmares a little pressure I order him to go faster. And we speed through the clouds, heading north where my fiancé is.

The sea wind blows on my skin, and I breathe deeply while in front of me, the sun begins to hide behind the horizon. Nightmares dips his wings in the water of the Grelotte Sea, Syrax sends us fresh water while repeating his gesture which wakes up Talyssa. She had fallen asleep against my back and I did not wake her because the trip was quite long for her.

-We're going to catch up with the boats, they're right ahead! Scream Rhaenyra

Indeed I can see the emblems of House Targaryen in front of me, the black and red colors fluttering in the wind. I caress my dragon's ribs preparing to pick up the pace. We arrive at the port, and undoubtedly the Royal carriage has already been on the road for a few hours.

Nightmares hisses before rising towards the clouds Syrax follows him, growling behind him because of his speed gain. As I suspected, the boats have docked for a while, some of the carriages are now leaving. My gaze marvels at the beauty of the North, the fresh wind is different from that of the capital, the landscape is so different, more picturesque, less Royal and arrogant than in the South.

-The North is so beautiful. Talyssa whispers behind me

I can only confirm his words, Nightmares also seems to like it because he roars while gaining more speed, the roar must have probably alerted the inhabitants below and I laugh imagining their reactions.

Our two dragons are flying towards Winterfell, the center of the North, we pass over the woods, we fly over lakes, meadows, villages, and I just want to fly above the Wall.

-The carriages! Rhaenyra Scream

Indeed, they are just below us forming a long caravan, and my heart is beating hard. We're coming to Winterfell, we're coming to Cregan, I'm getting married.

My hands become clammy around the seal, my cheeks flush, and my heart races my dragon. Before us slowly appears the castle of Winterfell, I could cry with stress and excitement seeing the flags of House Stark. The Wolves float in the air and Talyssa caresses my waist to relax.

My heart beats in my throat as I lead Nightmares downward, bringing us out of the clouds, his arrival noticed by all as he roars, his large wings activate the wind. The residents gathered on both sides of the road look up to the sky, completely frightened by our two dragons roaring in front of them. My pride grows when I see their gaze fixed on the power of my House and makes me even prouder.

-That's wonderful ! I scream while discovering my future home

We fly over the ramparts, the inhabitants of the castle shout when they see us, and my heart races when I see Cregan below. My gaze stays on him and I'm sure his gaze is on mine.

-Another tour? asks Rhaenyra, completely captivated.

A roar surprises us and we see my aunt Rhaenys and my sister's husband, Leanor, arriving in front of us on their dragons Meraxes and Seasmoke.

The dragons pass each other while flying, undoubtedly providing an incredible and frightening spectacle when viewed from below. Meraxes roars at my dragon who likes to annoy him. My aunt calms her down by caressing her and smiling quickly at me. Talyssa is about to faint. Not wanting her to fall I walk away from the group of dragons, heading towards the large courtyard of the castle. Nightmares reigns in terror, its great wings kicking up dust, its legs and weight shaking the ground, and its roar makes onlookers recoil.

-Gevis. (beauty) I whisper to Nightmares to calm him down

My dragon shakes its head as it rises to roar one last time announcing my arrival. My dragon calms down by showing his fangs a little, he goes down and I go down first, helping Talyssa who is a little dizzy.

-We welcome, shouted the valet, the arrival of Lady Talyssa of Pentos and Princess Nymeria Targaryen, second born of King Viserys and the late Queen Aemma Targaryen!

When my name is announced, my whole body tenses up, fear, stress, and excitement becoming one inside me. Behind me Talyssa follows me looking straight ahead, forcing herself not to look around her.

When I stand in front of Cregan, my cheeks turn red. He is handsome, incredible even, he is dressed in black, his large coat on his shoulders, its attachment being the symbol of a Giant Wolf. He is impeccable, and I am coming out of a long dragon flight, my hair disheveled, wearing an outfit that is expensive but still a riding outfit. Great Nymeria print. I scold myself

-Welcome, Princess Nymeria, Lady Talyssa. Hi Cregan with a bow

After his gesture, everyone around him bows, clearly embarrassing me, I allow them to stand up. Once done, a smile floats on his face and I remove my glove, subsequently holding out my hand so that he can kiss it, he feels it trembling in his and caresses it with his thumb, discreetly moistening it. lips before kissing him. My whole body burns, my neck becomes hot and I fight not to look away when he sensually looks back at me.

May the Gods have pity on me!

-Thank you for your welcome, Lord Cregan. I respond by taking my hand back

-Princess, may I introduce you to my sister, Sara Snow.

Snow? A bastard, I say to myself automatically, my eyes wander over the young girl and I smile at her warmly. She has long black hair like Cregan, her cheeks are red from the cold and two black beads represent her irises. It's true that she looks like him, so when she approaches to bow to me I see the apprehension in her eyes and in Cregan's. They must think I would look down on him, that's what any nobleman would do.

I prove to them that I'm not just any noble and that I don't put anyone down by taking her hands and hugging them. My gesture surprises everyone and the crowd starts whispering behind my back. As if sensing my discomfort, Nightmares roared menacingly, instantly calming the crowd.

-I'm happy to meet you. I respond with a big smile

She returns my smile by stretching her apple-red lips.

-Me too Princess.

Night has fallen in the North, the party in our honor is still going on in the great hall of the castle when I decide to slip away and head towards the walls. I hug my fur around me blowing cold wind while observing the scenery.

The dragons are housed in a cave a few kilometers from the castle, I wonder if Nightmares is feeling well, if he's not cold or something. Then my thoughts wander to Cregan and our marriage. Tomorrow I will be married under the Old Gods, the Gods of the Children of the Forest, before a Heart Tree.

The Queen who arrived shortly after me will be the representative of the high crown, my sister the heiress and her in-laws accompanying her, but not Daemon. I sigh as I think about it, clutching his gift to my chest.

-It’s cold Princess, why aren’t you inside?

I turn around hearing Cregan's warm voice behind me, he walks towards me holding his fur close to him. I smile at him shyly, feeling this dragon fire in me when our gazes are detailed.

-I was observing the night, I answer, looking at my gift.

Cregan's gaze lowers to what I hold in my hands, inviting me to present it to me.

-It's a gift from my uncle Daemon. He apologized because he couldn't be at the wedding because my cousin Leana is expecting his child, so he sent me this gift.

-And you don’t open it? Ask Cregan

I sigh, turning towards the night, clutching the package to me.

-I prefer to open it tomorrow, this gift represents the sole presence of my uncle.

Cregan gently caresses my arm and I smile at him, willingly accepting his caress, he speaks in a low voice.

-Does your uncle mean a lot to you?

A dreamy smile floats on my lips thinking of him.

-Indeed, he is like a father to me, my father figure, when the King wasn't looking after me, Daemon was there, teaching me the language of Valyria, my history, helping me claim my dragon , flying with me, encouraging me in my quest to travel.

Daemon was everything Viserys couldn't be, and I wish he were there to take me to Cregan tomorrow instead of Leanor.

-I'm sorry the Prince can't come, Nymeria. Sighs Cregan pulling me towards him

I let myself fall into his embrace, sighing as I finally feel him against me, his body warmth is all I need, and when his gloved hand comes to caress the back of my neck my heart goes crazy. The nostalgia I had when thinking of my uncle evaporates, giving way to the gentleness and love of Cregan.

-I missed you. I confess hiding in his chest

A soft laugh shakes her and I vibrate under her.

-I missed you too, woman.

I lightly tap his chest with a fake annoyed look on my face.

-I'm not your wife yet Cregan, I reply with a mocking smile, wait until tomorrow evening to call me that.

His amused face disappears and becomes playful and seductive when he brings his lips to mine, my hands tremble against me when I feel let him rub his nose against mine, his two-tone irises in mine.

-Oh, but that’s all I’m waiting for, Princess. Smiled the Wolf, showing his canines

My heart soars when I realize that it refers to our wedding night, our bedtime. My cheeks, my neck, my body become as hot as fire, as red as blood. I look away, prey to strong carnal emotion.

-This is terribly inappropriate. I whisper in a low voice

Cregan's laughter bursts into the night making it less silent and I smile stupidly as I feel him bring me to him, his chest vibrating with joy at my back, his chin above my gray head.

-To my sweet Princess, I can’t wait to call you mine.

#cregan x you #house of the dragon #rhaenyra targaryen #cregan fanfiction #cregan stark #alicent hightower #original female character #cregan smut #cregan x y/n #cregan x reader #daemon targaryen #fanfiction house of the dragon #fanfiction fire and blood #leanor x rhaenrya #leanor velaryon #imagine cregan stark #romance

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the-sun-falls-like-a-guillotine · 3 months

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admittedly, I just love feedism content in general, but the reason I love it so much in TMA fanworks is because The Magnus Archives is about hunger.

it's about thirst — bloodthirst (MAG112, MAG176), thirst for knowledge (MAG92, The Eye) — and hunger — hunger for power (Jonah Magnus), statement withdrawal (MAG148), feed your patron or it will feed on you (MAG89, MAG184). Any food and drink mentioned are often corrupted, whether literally, by memories, or by paranoia, like the human teeth apple from the anatomy students in MAG34, or the oolong tea offered by Also Martin in MAG186, or when Martin offers Jon a sandwich and Jon is so suspicious that he actually comes to the canteen to make sure it isn't tampered with (MAG53).

one of the only actual physical descriptors we get of Jon is scrawny (MAG185), so there's something very satisfying to me about relationship weight; about him recovering from years of deprivation and neglect; about a squidgy little belly in the palm of Martin's hand when he spoons in behind him. the thought of Jon and Martin safe and happy and healthy and together delights me, be it curled up on the sofa with tea and a bun, or making soup, or going out for ice cream.

I love the idea of Jon's much-improved appetite still not quite stretching to finishing his plate and he always insists that Martin finishes it without so much as one guilt-tinged word because he looks so ridiculously gorgeous when he's full, one big broad hand resting contentedly on the crest of his belly; or that scene I still have to work in somewhere where Martin catches Jon engrossed in their own reflection, studying the little roll of chub that now swells out over the waistband of their boxers, and Martin begins to panic because when he does that, his mind is loud and swarming with the voices of his mother, of other kids in the school playground, of the shitty men he settled for because he just wanted to be touched: oh, don't wear that top, Patricia, it makes you look fat; my mum has big tummy like you but there's a baby in hers; sorry, I don't think I can go through with this. I don't like girls and your hips are just... too wide. but Jon just turns to him and smiles with sparkling eyes and says I look... loved.

I'm also working on a polychives au where the worm bites across his back and shoulders restrict Tim's movement so working out isn't really an option anymore, and one by one all his coping mechanisms fall through leaving only food. the weight begins to pile on, stretch marks spreading like lightning across his belly, his chest, his hips, and for a time he feels so horribly conflicted about it because it feels good, but it doesn't feel like himself in any way that he's used to. then Sasha tells him in no uncertain terms how much she likes it, and once a miscommunication is sorted with Martin, and Jon begrudgingly agrees to try the four of them being together, he starts to love his swelling belly, his puffy little tits, every bit as much as they do.

I love love LOVE picturing Tim with this big lovedrunk smile, absolutely boneless in a cuddle puddle as he jokes that he should get a ouija board planchette tattooed around his belly button because of how often they each have a hand on his pudgy belly, like they all do now.

just... the softest of soft recovery and comfort against the cruelty of the original work.

#the magnus archives #tma #polychives #jon sims #martin blackwood #tim stoker #sasha james

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moonlightazriel · 4 months

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Family habits /// A Elucien Fic

Summary: Lucien introduces Elain to his favorite solstice tradition.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 931

Notes: HEHEHEHEH guess who decided to write a Elucien gift just for you? This fic is a tiny Christmas gift for @fieldofdaisiies, it’s the least I can do for her after all she helped me go through. She is such a good friend, I love her really much. Everyone should have a friend like her. I really hope you like it.

Main Masterlist

The art used here do not belong to me, it belongs to Meabhd but I couldn’t find their social media to tag.

Solstice morning came, bringing a chill to Lucien’s spine. He got out of bed, on the tip of his toes as he walked to the kitchen, slowly pulling out the ingredients to prepare a chamomile tea and some pancakes. Elain’s favourite breakfast.

The sweet scent filled her nostrils, making her scrunch her eyebrows together as she opened her eyes. Lucien wasn’t in the room, so she followed the scent, finding her mate shirtless pacing around in the kitchen. Flipping pancakes and pouring tea on her mug.

“Good morning, handsome.” She greeted, making him turn to her, a few loose strands escaping the low bun he had made to keep his hair out of his eyes. He smiled at her.

“Morning, my sunflower.” He placed the mug and the pancakes in front of her, she happily sipped, moaning in delight.

“What are the plans for today?” She asked as Lucien sat in front of her, eating his own breakfast.

“I can’t tell yet, but dress warmly.” He winked, making the bubble with excitement and curiosity.

An hour later Elain was getting her gloves, a knitted hat gifted by his mom covering her head, a scarf matching her brown coat, cotton pants and high boots.

“You look beautiful, my love.” He greeted, wearing pretty much the same clothes as her, but his hands held a ribbon. “Now turn around.” He demanded.

Elain happily did so, the soft ribbon and his warm fingers brushed the sides of her face, and she felt herself go blind, the ribbon obstructing her vision.

“Now we are ready to go.” He whispered in her ear, grabbing her hand and winnowing away.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Cold, that was the only thing she could tell about the place they were, winds roared, whipping her hair around, but she trusted him, trusted him with all she had. But curiosity was bigger than trust, forcing her to try and peek just a little.

She didn’t have to wait much longer as Lucien removed the ribbon, and she let the light set in. They were in a valley between snow covered mountains. Standing on the shore of a frozen lake, only the two of them were there. The place was beautiful.

“When I was a kid, solstice mornings meant sneaking out to Winter Court.” He reached for the bag she didn’t notice he was carrying. “Eris would get all of us here, so we could spend the morning together, without Beron’s grip on our throats.”

Lucien pulled out two pairs of ice skates, Elain looked at it even more curious than before.

“He taught us how to do it, it was our moment of freedom and happiness. Where my brothers could be themselves, without having to pretend.” He extended her hand, kneeling in front of her as she sat on a log, removing her boots. He helped her get into the ice skates, tying it for her.

He sat by her side, tying his own pairs, Elain was nervous, she never done that before but she wanted to try, it felt like a beautiful tradition.

“After playing for hours, he would sit us here, and we would share the cinnamon rolls he stole from the kitchen, and drink hot coffee.” Lucien got up, slowly sliding along the lake.

He moved graciously, a leaf going with the wind, he looked beautiful. His red hair flying behind him as he moved with his arms open, eyes closed and a small smile on his lips. Memories flooded his head and he let himself sink on them for a bit.

His eye opened, and he saw Elain watching him. He slid close to her, extending her arms for her. Elain slowly grabs, trying to get up on uncertain legs. Her whole body was shaking with both excitement and anxiety, afraid of falling.

“Please, Lucien. Don’t let me fall.” She begged as they went further closer to the center of the lake.

“I will never let you fall.” His voice was serious and Elain smiled happily, he never once let her fall, and he wasn’t about to start doing it now.

They soared over that lake, sliding around to the sound of the wind, Elain felt her heart swell with happiness, Lucien sharing his childhood with her meant a lot. Once she felt confident enough, she started to go on her own, but he always went close to her.

Hours passed by, and she loved every second of it. Lucien guided her back to the shore, and they sat there, watching nature and sharing cinnamon rolls and a mug of coffee.

“I can’t wait to share this with our children one day.” He blurted and she blushed, the thought of having kids with him always made her all red and giggly.

“I’m sure they will love it.” She reassured him. “I did.”

“You did?” He leaned closer to her.

“Thank you for sharing this with me.” She leaned more, closing the gap, his lips tasted like icing and coffee beans.

“Maybe we can do that again? Same time next year?” He suggested with a tint of hope lacing his features.

“Maybe we should invite your brothers, it’s a beautiful tradition to have, you should keep doing it.” He smiled at her.

“My beautiful mate, always with the best ideas. I love you so much.” He squeezed her hand.

“I love you even more, my sunshine.” She replied and Lucien blushed at the nickname. “Can we go again?” She inquired.

“The whole day, if you want to.” He got up, pulling her with him and going back to the lake.

#acotar #sarahjmaas #moonlightazriel #moonlightdaisiies 🌙🌼#elain archeron #elain x lucien #elain acotar #pro elain #lucien supremacy #lucien vanserra #lucien acotar #pro lucien vanserra #elucien

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wrathofrats · 5 months

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21. Blowjob / domsub

Yes I know it’s November. Idc. Happy kinkvember ig

2.8k words of zephrit. Zephs a brat and ifrit is just the kindest dom about it.

Or I stumbled delirious into @divine-misfortunes DMs and came out with this. Shout out to it for dragging me by the collar back into writing.

Small warnings for a bit of degro, face fucking, they/them Zeph, yeah

“I just thinks it’s fucking stupid” Zeph grumbles. The room is too cold, dew won’t let them watch what they want on tv, everything is wrong to them and the longer they stand in the kitchen with ifrit the more pissed off they get over seemingly nothing.

Ifrit usually has the patience to deal with Zephyr when they’re like this. The knowledge that they’re in pain and don’t mean to be bitchy is enough to give him the time and energy to talk them down.

Todays different.

“Zeph, honey, there’s nothing you can do. Maybe just calm down, it’ll be ok” ifrit stands behind them with a hand around their waist, the other playing with a loose strand of hair from their bun.

“Do you have to be so fucking positive all the time?” Zeph mumbles to themself. It’s a stupid comment, they know it’s mean, it’s really just a day to push as far as they can, they can’t help it.

Something in ifrit snaps. The usual patience turned into a need to just set the air ghoul straight. He shifts his hands to their waist and throws them over his shoulder. They’re light, easy to manhandle into a comfortable position. Ifrit knows Zeph won’t listen and be reasonable if he were to simply tell them to go upstairs, much rather take them there himself instead of listening to the back talk he knows he would get by trying to reason with them. In his eyes it’s the easier option.

“put me the fuck down”

Zeph struggles against him, kicking their feet and grabbing at the back of his shirt. Ifrit simply stays silent until he opens his door and throws Zeph onto the bed.

Something in his demeanor changes, he smiles, watches Zeph like he’s infatuated with them, a kindness in his eyes that contradicts the way he simply maneuvers zephyr like a ragdoll. The sugary sweet appearance only furthers their anger.

“This is fucking stupid, I’m going back down stairs” zeph bites and attempts to push past ifrit.

Ifrits sharp claws dig slightly into zephs wrists as he grabs them and pins the air ghoul to the wall. Watching, daring them to struggle.

“Be sweet darling, I know you can be” ifrits lips are on zephyrs skin immediately, his spare hand pushing up their shirt to thumb at his hip.

“Shut up, let me go” Zeph says. Their anger betrayed by a uncertain high pitch to their voice when Ifrit's lips brush their neck, not even consciously tipping their head to give more access to the sensitive skin, it's instinct to want to lay themself bare to him, even if they pretend that they hate it.

“Oh honey I know you don’t want that, you’re so cute when you act like this” *you're so cute when you struggle knowing full well you'll lose.* he doesn't need to say it for Zephyr to understand and it makes blood rush to their cheeks and their dick all at once. Ifrit purposefully shifts, pushes a knee between their thighs - not heavily, enough to keep them aware of how their dick reacts to whatever he does to them.

"*I'm not cute.*" they hiss through their teeth, breath hitching as a warming hand ghosts beneath their shirt.

A strangled noise leaves zephs mouth, ifrits claws dig further into their wrists and the word cute goes straight to their cock that’s rapidly filling in his pants as ifrits leg rubs against it.

“I know you can be sweet, poor thing you just need to be reminded don’t you?”

Ifrit thumbs lightly over a nipple, enough attention to get the little bud properly pebbled, before rolling it between his fingers. Zephyr wants to be embarrassed at how fast they practically collapse into ifrits support as his hand pinches, fingers hot to the touch. They don't intend to go boneless like they do, but Ifrit knows their body too well. The way his teeth tease at their pulse is evident of that, they want to scream in frustration but trying to bring themself to even speak at all is more difficult than it should've been.

They gasp, bucking into it but struggling against where they’re pinned still. The lips on their neck are so soft compared to the burning sensation on their chest.

“Fuck- ifrit I-“ they try to ask for more but struggle against the words, all the sensations making their brain practically turn off. He chuckles into their neck and Zeph barely fights the urge to roll their hips forward into the pressure his thigh offered. Zeph knows they wouldn't survive it if he let them do it, already turning to mush.

"I know sweetheart," Ifrit kissed beneath their ear, voice soft and understanding. Only the slightest bit condescending, easily missed. They do. "I'll give you what you want...Could never say no to you, even when you're acting up like this, but you can't help it huh? Can't help but be a brat cause you need it so bad. Need my cock so bad you forgot how to act darling."

“Shut up, give it to me” zeph grinds against ifrits leg.

“I know you’re just a needy cockwhore, I’ll take care of you darling”

Before Zeph can comprehend it their shirt is being dragged over their head and ifrit has his fingers struggling with the button and zipper on his pants, even just the friction of ifrits hand on the front of his jeans has them ready to start begging. The kindness and rough touches has their head spinning, desperate.

Ifrits fingers swipe across their lips and Zeph immediately invites them in, letting ifrit slide them in and out as they coat them with spit.

Zeph pretends they're annoyed by everything, by ifrits fingers petting over their tongue, but it's a hard facade to keep up because his fingers are warm and rough and taste a little sweet

“Youll just suck on anything I give you” ifrit whispers “you’re so adorable acting out, when you’ll go brainless if I put something in your mouth”

it's true but Zeph still groans and protests it a little but there's more pressure against their crotch and their eyes damn near roll back, immediately chasing the feeling, groan trailing off into a whine as his fingers push further into their mouth

Jaw slack, they eventually forget why they were protesting him or his attention to begin with

Ifrit smiles so sweetly, coos a little praise when they stop struggling

"There you are....there's my sweet flower, don't gotta keep acting up, you've got me now"

Zeph practically whines, their hips grind harder into ifrits thigh, hands still high above their head.

“It’s ok, I know you don’t mean it sweetheart, we both know who is actually in charge here” ifrit whispers, low and sweet into their ear. a reminder instead of a threat.

Zephyr nods compliantly, almost content to just suck on ifrits fingers and hump his leg like they won’t get anything better. There’s something so addictingly mindless about it all, about the sweet whispers from ifrit while they hollow their cheeks around the fingers and cover them in spit, about the drag and friction over their cock that’s sensitive and borderline painful but they would never dare stop.

They just get so easy like this, so malleable that they even whine when ifrit pulls his hand away and pushes them to sink to their knees

“Gonna give you something better sweetheart, this is what you wanted right?” Ifrit tilts zephs head up to stare at him, eyes already glassy as they look at him pathetically, as if they don’t get a cock in their mouth soon they may cry

Ifrit shushes them, they'll get what they want, he always gives it to them, Zeph just needs to be patient

He could tease, see just how needy they really get, but he knows not to push when they fall so fast like this. It’s almost embarrassing how easy zephyr gets with just a few rough touches and commanding words, ifrits sure they’ll be blushing about it later, refusing to admit it.

But right now? They're just sitting there with their mouth open stupidly, tugging at ifrits pant leg and he’s surprised they're not drooling all over their lap.

He pulls himself out, uses his other hand to keep a firm grasp on zephs chin, he knows they’ll be good and still but it’s just an added reminder, an added force of command for ifrit to easily slide his cock into their mouth.

It’s almost surprising how Zeph sits with their hands in their lap, waiting for ifrit to use them. His sweet ghoul,

“Knew you knew how to be good,” ifrit smiles at them. He places a gentle hand in their hair just to guide them, knows they like the extra force, the slight pain that comes with it to keep them sweet and stupid. The tip of ifrits cock glistens with pre in the dimly lit room, it’s hard for zeph not to lunge for it, they know better to be greedy but they can't get enough of ifrits dick in their mouth, thick but comfortable enough not to make their jaw hurt, long but not enough to gag them outright

It's perfect, like it was made for them to suck...not to mention the way their mouth makes ifrits voice go all breathy.

They go still as ifrit brings zephs mouth to him, looks up and waits, a silent invitation to fuck their mouth, use them.

It’s easy for him to realize what Zeph wants, almost too easy to just tighten his grip in their hair and force them down, making them take as much as they can.

“Fuck- you look so much prettier when you’re quiet doll” ifrit grits out, trying hard to not fuck that pretty little mouth too hard, but it feels so good he doesn’t know if he can help himself. Zephyrs red lips and glassy sweet eyes make it hard to control himself.

Ifrit being rough isn't a thing that really happens all that much but zephyr constantly aches for it

Especially when they're acting up like they were, need it bad, but ifrits seemingly never ending patience rarely falters. So when they do finally get him like this it’s easy to milk it as much as possible, trying to be as obedient as possible to hopefully get him to give them what they want.

It’s an itch they get sometimes to see how far they can push it before ifrit breaks. Needs to be punished, needs to be put in their place and made to obey.

Almost just wants to see how much he will really let them get away with.

Zeph is usually talked down with soft words and gentle touches, the never ending kindness enough to make them fuzzy and have their head spinning.

But when ifrit is truly rough with them? Makes them feel small and stupid? It takes all their energy to not straight beg to be treated like a toy, to be used and fucked with no respect

“You’re just nothing without my cock between those lips are you darling?” Ifrit coos at them, sweet despite usuing their mouth, slamming them back down over and over as drool begins to spill out the sides of their mouth, tears running down their cheeks.

He stares fondly at them with his fingers curled around their neck pinning them to the mattress, telling them how Beautiful they are as he fucks their throat with a fist around their horn,

“You’re such a good toy to fuck, much more useful when you’re quiet like this instead of being a brat, can’t ask for what you want can you?” His tone is kind, but mocking.

Ifrit pulls them off his cock so he can spill his mess on their face with a purr of I love you

They've been too bratty to earn the reward of him cumming in their mouth. A treat that Zeph almost cries over when they realize they won’t get it. Zeph can’t help but sit there with their mouth wide open, hoping to catch just a little bit, just desperate to taste what they do to him. They make a sad little sound they make when he pulls out, a very hoarse and pathetic please please please they whisper...

They truly do look pretty like this, lips fucked a cherry red, cheeks tear stained and eyes sad and desperate, truly looks fucked out, like they were made for taking cock down their throat.

They really are such a sweet little toy.

Zeph can’t help but sit there with their mouth wide open, hoping to catch just a little bit, just desperate to taste what they do to him.

Ifrit gathers what he can from zephs cheeks onto his fingers and holds them up to their lips, a small gesture of kindness because Zeph really is too pretty to deny like this.

Ifrit could just keep on like this all night, till he had nothing left to give, if it meant zeph would stay like this for him

a flip switches in Zeph when ifrit is rough and cruel like this. Abandons their usual snark and haughtiness for begging and desperately sweet words, willing to worship ifrit even, if it would get his approval

They’re not apposed to the long game, the fear that maybe ifrit will keep them like this for another round or two before they’re touched at all, let alone be allowed to cum, is terrifyingly arousing considering how often they’re allowed just get whatever they want.

The prospect of just being given the sweet mercy of a short hand job, not even getting fucked like they’ve been begging for for an hour now, it’s unsatisfying, in their opinion cruel, especially knowing how nice ifrit will be about it and treat the situation as if ifrit is being merciful and generous. It’s almost embarrassing, to be told that being given the bare minimum is a reward, a treat since ifrit just loves them so much.

They can’t get enough of it.

Hopes he will treat them like that

And ifrit does.

He fucks two more loads out in their mouth, but barely gives them a taste. More than happy to shoot on their face, their chest, anywhere that isn't where they want it. They look pitiful, a proper decorated whore, soaked through their boxers, left visibly wanting

Ifrit wishes he could muster up another round, but he doesn't think he'll survive trying to milk out a forth orgasm, so instead he scoops them up. Lays them out on the bed, a little princess posed in the pillows. He calls them pretty as he crawls between their legs which fall apart so easily for him, inviting him in.

Gentle kisses trail up their thighs as ifrit noses the underside of their cock, just teases them because Zeph just sounds so cute when they’re so compliant and desperate. He wants them to work for it, beg and try hard to fuck his mouth. It’s too easy to just lightly lick at the head, wanting them to buck up into it.

He lets the head of their dick just rest against his tongue, close to the warmth of his mouth, but not giving it proper. Every little sigh and exhale has zeph twitching, kicking against his tongue. They're trying so hard to be good, to not take more than what they're given and ifrit can see them sweat, see the visible restraint. He makes the softest sympathetic sound, gives them a little, a few generous strokes that has them sobbing in relief.

But then it's just his fist loose around them, teary eyed and confused,

“I’m sorry for being mean love, you can fuck my fist as much as youd like”

Zeph almost wails, desperately wants to cry and beg for ifrits mouth, needs to feel his lips around them, hot and wet. His fist almost seems like a cruel joke and with the way ifrit smiles at them they’re sure it is.

Their thrusts are pathetic and lackluster, barely able to get off the bed, it’s not enough like this they don’t think but they don’t want to be greedy. He’s never seen them be so good, remembering their manners and doing without the sarcastic comments, he almost feels bad for them after he’s been so cruel.

Ifrit caves.

He pins their hips down and takes them fully to the back of their throat.

Zeph almost cums immediately, it doesn’t take much after everything, they barely have time to warn ifrit before he just moves their hand to his hair, silent permission to take what they want, they’ve earned it.

Zeph keeps a loose fist tied to his scalp as ifrit bobs, can’t help but to just whine and thanks him for his mercy before spilling hot down his throat with a cry.

#yes I know it’s been a month #don’t mention it #idk what this is either #fanfic #nameless ghouls #ghost bc #the band ghost #ghost #wrath writes #zephyr ghoul #ifrit ghoul #kinktober

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gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot · 7 months

Text

It's the little things (7)

Previous / Next

After nine years of knowing him, Christine Vega had about lost hope about ever learning how to not give in to John MacTavish's puppy eyes.

So when he had started whining about how long had it been since she had last cooked fried chicken (it was last month), she just... got to work. She couldn't help it.

And there she was, in the small kitchenette that Price had made install in their private common room, up to her elbows in flour and spices, coating chicken in it, then in eggs, then in panko crumbs, then dropping it in oil, checking over it with the wood tongs...

It was a tedious and messy process for just one person, but both Soap and Gaz had been roped into taking the privates to the assault course. So they'd be hungry when they got back. And that day Price had mentioned mournfully that Dr. Heather was having lunch with a friend. So she had to make sure it was enough food for five people, four of which ate like they were always famished.

But she'd be lying if she said she didn't feel joy seeing them devour the food she cooked. It made her feel useful to know that she was good at something.

Now, if only she had been good at tying her damn hair properly, that would have been awesome.

For the last ten minutes the shorter strands of her hair had escaped from her loose bun, and brushed over and over again her face, tickling her nose when she leaned in. And her hands were sticky with the mixture of flour and egg and bread crumbs, so she couldn't just... brush it back. So she did as she could using her forearms, to no avail. She even blew softly to get the loose strands out of her face.

''What are you doing?'' Simon's deep, gravelly voice sounded right behind her, and Christine let out an undignified squeak, almost dropping a piece of chicken and turning her head.

He was standing there, hands inside the pocket of his hoodie as usual, looming over her and watching curiously the messy display on the counters.

''One day, Simon, I swear I'll scare you to death just like you do when you sneak up on me'' Christine mumbled, facing again her task, but she couldn't help but smile. And then frown when with the movement her bun definitely came undone. ''Well, shit''

''Problems, lovie?'' His low rumbled laugh made her heart flutter as always, and the left corner of her lips hurt when her smile widened without control.

''Bad hair day, I guess. I can't seem to keep it up, and my hands are filthy and I can't...'' She froze when he felt hands... his hands, gently brushing her hair back and bunching it up until he could hold it with just one of his enormous hands.

God, he even had taken off his gloves.

''Does this help?'' His voice sounded lower than before, and a tad more uncertain, and she resisted the urge to nod like an idiot, trying with all her might not to tremble.

''Yes...'' Christine murmured, exhaling the breath she had been holding, and continued working while he stood there beside her, holding her hair with one hand and the other still inside his pocket.

Simon wasn't even sure why he had done that. And even less why he had taken his gloves off before touching her hair, but he had remembered Belarus. When she asked permission to touch the skull plate on his mask, and when he agreed, she had taken her glove off to touch it with her bare fingertips.

As if it would have been disrespectful, unholy, to touch him with anything less that her exposed skin.

Maybe that was why he had shed his gloves before touching her hair, and now, was still trying to decide if it had been a good or a bad idea. Feeling her hair between his fingers, the back of her head almost resting on his palm, made him feel things. Things that made him clench his jaw beneath the balaclava, his eyes focused on the nape of her neck.

Soft, pale and delicate skin where he could maybe...

Her low humming distracted him from his less than chaste thoughts, and he couldn't help but look at her fondly. Busy as a bee, completely dedicated to feed them like a mother hen, fiercely taking care of her newfound place.

Without thinking, his fingers tightened his hold on her hair, craddling her head in his palm, and he saw her shoulders relaxing, her humming becoming sweeter and softer, almost a purr.

Wait, he knew that tune.

''What are you humming?''

''Ah... Think, by Kaleida, it... it's in the first John Wick film'' Christine barely turned her head to look at him, not bothered in the slightest by how tight he was holding her hair now. If she had to be honest... she liked it too much.

Simon pretended to be deep in thought, and then shook his head.

''Don't remember it'' He was lying. That was the song that he heard in the video that Soap sent him during his last solo deployment.

She fell for it. Or maybe pretended to fall for it. But she turned her head back to her task preparing food and started to hum softly again, until she ended singing just as softly, warming his heart.

Think of me, I'll never break your heart Think of me, you're always in the dark I am your light, your light, your light Think of me, you're never in the dark

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no1frogfan · 1 year

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Untitled Makki/Seijoh4 drabble

Hanamaki x gn reader (x the rest of Seijoh4 a bit)

Word count: ~1.3k

Tags & warnings: SMUT-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Hair fetish, cum in hair, PUBES we love ‘em and Makki definitely does, implied breath play, mentions of penetration & throat fucking, dubcon (no dubcon sex but reader is unknowingly participating in Makki’s fetish), reader has silky hair that’s long enough to braid, no hair color mentioned

Note: How do these keep getting longer and longer? They’re not really drabbles anymore, but I couldn’t stop writing because pervy Makki is so fun. This is actually depraved lmao

Iwa | Mattsun

You flop down cross-legged onto the rug in front of Makki. He scoots forward, draping his legs over your shoulders and pulling you back against the side of the bed. Steam is still rising off your head as he carefully teases out any tangles.

When it’s combed through to his satisfaction, he spreads deep conditioner across his hands and gently reaches forward to massage it into your scalp. The cinnamon and peppermint prickle pleasantly across your skin.

He dollops more conditioner on your hair, and, god it looks so much like… He doesn't know how many times he’s imagined it, wrapping your silky locks around his hand to press your nose against his abdomen. He could even thread both hands through your hair to hold you down while he bucks into you, savor the feeling of you gagging around him and, at the last second, pull you off him to paint hot streaks across your face and hair. He’s sure you’d make him cum so much, thick gobs of it covering your head and sticking to the strands.

Makki tears his eyes away and takes a long, calming breath.

Then another.

He shakes his head and returns to the task of caressing the conditioner into every strand.

You feel the tension leaving your neck and shoulders. Your eyes close, body relaxing under his ministrations.

When he walked in on you putting your hair up a week ago, he never realized an opportunity like this would literally land in his lap.

The wind had been relentless that day, loosening your bun and whipping the escaped tendrils across your face out on the boat. The spray of salt water and the grabby hands of the younger guests had done a number on it too. He saw you get progressively more irritated as the day went on, your tight bun devolving into a messy one, devolving further into an untidy ponytail, and finally barely managing to even be wrangled into that.

Then he’d stumbled in on you in the bathroom while you were trying to wrestle with it for the umpteenth time that morning, an angry scowl twisting your face.

Shakily (could you see his hands trembling?), he’d reached up to tease the knottiest tangles apart with his fingers and tie it up for you.

He’d pulled back reluctantly after he finished, and keeping his tone as casual as he could, offered to braid it for you that night. “I have two sisters,” he’d added hurriedly by way of explanation, trying to cut off any hesitation at the pass.

“You…don’t mind?”

Mind? He’d been itching to run his fingers through your hair for weeks, wondering if it really was as soft as it looked, wondering how you manage to keep it so lustrous and bouncy despite the harsh sea water and the harsher sun. Wondering how good it would smell if he buried his face in it.

“It’s no big. I used to do it all the time.”

As easy as that, he’d opened the door to this new nightly routine. And every night since then, it’s tested his discipline.

Like tonight. With careful fingers, he parts your hair down the middle and pulls the halves taut, relishing the feel of it gliding across his skin. You’re half asleep now, so far gone you don’t notice the quivering little gasp that escapes your mouth.

Uncertain he heard correctly, his eyes dart up to Oikawa, Iwa, and Mattsun in turn. All their eyes on trained on you too.

Maybe… He tugs your hair a second time.

Ah! There it is again—

A stutter and an almost inaudible moan.

Makki has to bite back a groan. Fuck. Do you like that? He looks down and almost bites through skin at the sight of the wet strands splayed across his bare thighs, so close to his twitching cock he could almost…maybe he could even grab a palmful and fuck his fist with it, until your hair is sticky with his cum. You’ve always been a deep sleeper. He could rub it in and you’d never be the wiser.

Or maybe you’d prefer to be on top and in control, to see the fucked out look on his face as you take every inch of him, milking him for all he’s worth. You’d loom over him, your locks a satin curtain around his face, hiding him away in a private paradise.

If he asked you to, would you grow it out longer? If you knew how much he liked it? If you knew it would let him easily wrap one long plait around your throat? If you knew it would let him grip it more easily when he fucks you from behind? His hand viselike as he drives into you, wrenching you back after each sloppy thrust. It’d be easier to pull you up, too. To curve your neck back for a better view as you take Mattsun or Iwaizumi, or hell, even Oikawa in your eager mouth.

You can’t see the wolfish expression on Makki’s face as he zeroes in on the way your chest rises and falls unevenly under him. But his friends can, and he can’t help but show off a little, his eyes glinting in challenge. Watch what I can do. And under the pretense of making sure he gets every strand, he runs his nails down your cheek, trails them across your neck, and with a murmured “sorry” ghosts them across your chest, there and gone.

You barely register his touch, but the evidence of it lingers in the budding of your nipples against the thin fabric of your sleep shirt.

If you opened your eyes now, you’d see him hunched over you, eyes closed in rapture. The spicy scent, the warmth radiating from you, it’s all too heady. He could lunge forward right now, pin you down against the floor and fuck you just like that. Would you want that? Want every inch of his body pressed against you, his face smothered against your neck, you invading all of his senses? Letting him drown in every strand every wisp while he thrusts into you, not too slow, not too fast, relishing the clench of your walls around him.

And he knows it’s in poor taste, but he truly can’t help but wonder: does the carpet match the drapes? He’s always trying to catch a glimpse, but he’s never been successful. Do you trim? Do you let it grow? Hopefully you don’t shave because fuck what he wouldn’t give to spread you open, bury his nose in your bush, smear his pre all over you and go to fucking town—

His eyes shoot open when someone clears their throat.

It’s impossible now to ignore how hard he is. It’s bordering on painful. You’ve dozed off a little, like you usually do, and Makki decides he’s dragged this on long enough. It takes no time at all to finish his plaiting. He leans back to admire tonight’s masterpiece — two neat French braids. Then, he covers his lap with the comforter before giving your hair one final tug.

You blink blearily, reaching up to run your fingers over his handiwork. “Thanks Makki,” you mumble, rubbing sleep from your eyes. You push off the floor, a little wobbly from the haze of sleep, and shuffle into bed.

“No prob,” he responds, voice a little strained.

Thus ends your nightly routine.

Makki, though, he usually stays up a little longer, fucking his fist in the shower while the luster of your hair still lingers on his fingertips.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #hanamaki takahiro #hanamaki x reader #hanamaki smut #froggy’s seijoh4 nonsense #froggy scribbles

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