#but still have the same result nonetheless

[darkreaderdan]

₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪

ᴍɪᴄʜᴀᴇʟ ᴄʀɪsᴛ 𝒂 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒔

✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲

Okay so this is a post that I have been planning for a while now to be honest. Devil's Night Series as been a series that honest got me hooked on reading again and all the characters hold a special place in my heart especially Michael and Rika. I have bared witness to all the hate that Michael gets and as a person who like and can relate to him on some level it actually rub med wrong. I also find it crazy how Michael and Emory are literally the same character in different font but Michael gets a lot more hate. (𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒔) But this is a Michael post so I will be sticking to just my analysis of him and maybe this can shed some light on his actions and have a discussion. Keep in mind this isn't me trying to justify the shit he does but instead explain his actions.

❦ So first I wanna touch on who Michael is as a person. We have seen throughout the series and especially in Corrupt that he is a for the most part a loyal person especially when it comes to his chosen family which at the start of the series was solely the other 3 horsemen. But let's go see where this stems from. Michael is considered to be the black sheep of his family despite being the eldest son. We have seen in flashbacks that his father has an unwavering hatred towards him ever since he was younger (a literal toddler), even though we never found out the reason why. I have a theory however, that Evan's hatred stem from the fact that Michael is similar to him when it comes to their stubborn mindset making him harder to manipulate and control compared to Trevor who is literally his father's dog. Now back to regular program... this dysfunctional dynamic in his family is what lead him to find companionship, brotherhood and trust in Kai, Will and Damon. They became his real family. He has proven time and time again that he would and will do anything to protect or even avenge them. He was always giving them advice and even cleaning up after them whenever they fuck up, which we know is a lot.🤣🤣 But nonetheless because of his pact and loyalty he will do all this even at a risk of hurting himself both physically and emotionally.

❦ During the events of Corrupt it is noted on several occasion that he is also extremely self destructive. This can be explained as a direct result of his upbringing. One of the things that I realize that alot of readers and fan of the series like to skip over is the extreme abuse that Michael suffered at the hands of his father. I get that as opposed to Damon and Emmy, it wasn't a main highlight in his novel so people tend to downplay it or outright ignores it. Michael was physically & mentally abused by his father simultaneously for years, from his childhood to when he was mid to late teen (he was 16 if i recall correctly). It was at this time that he finally fought back against Evan, with Rika being an unknowing witness to the event that lead to the stop of the physical abusing but the increased in the verbal and mental abuse. And where was his mom during all of this? Acting and being oblivious ofc. But we can see that he still; in present day Corrupt; is affected by his fathers words which reflects in his self loathing and believing he doesn't deserve to be happy or the love of anyone, especially not Rika. The Rika he loved and his world revolved around since he was 3. The same Rika that his dad as been grooming and basically training to be the perfect match/wife for Trevor. And he would rather continuing to live in emotional pain than accepting that someone can love him, that's why he was so hellbent on avenging his friends at the risk of burning the bridge with Rika in the process.

❦ I will be the first to admit that he is blunt, brutal and overall mean in his speech especially at times when he speak to Rika. Michael is not one to cut words and will things in the most brutal of ways especially when he is angry or hurting as I genuinely believe he is one of those 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦, 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 type person who believe that if they are hurting others should too. Though for some reason this doesn't extend to when it comes romantic feelings. Wit that let's focus on his interactions with Rika. Even from the first encounter we saw of the two of them we knew that they had history between them and that their relationship runs deep, this is something that is immediately confirmed. I think one of the biggest issues that the fandom have against Michael is that he is hard on Rika, which is true, but the thing is I think readers are so used to the MMC babying the FMC that the concept of hard love is so alien to them. I will say though some of the things he did say to her are beyond harsh and outright so fucking cruel, like calling her just a pussy or even this:

"𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚔," 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚠 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔. "𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢, 𝚁𝚒𝚔𝚊? 𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚕 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝. 𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎." "𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚔," 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢. "𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢. 𝙸𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛." 𝙸 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚢. "𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙸'𝚖 𝚋𝚊𝚍? 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚎? 𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝? 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔! 𝚈𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗-𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛-𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗-𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛-𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚔 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛!"

❦ This was just uncall for, but it goes back to what I mentioned before of him believing that if he is hurt, everyone should also hurt, not an excuse but merely an explanation. And as harsh as he is some of his actions are from his perspective a way of teaching her to be stronger and fight her own battles and not wait on others to come to her rescue. He was the first to recognize her fire help her make it shine brighter:

"𝙾𝚠𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚣𝚎. 𝙳𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍? 𝙾𝚠𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞." -

"𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘔𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘭-𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘴 𝘋𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘯, 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘒𝘢𝘪-𝘐 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦. 𝘐 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨." - 𝘙𝘪𝘬𝘢.

❦ Another instance that I see people always judging him about is the events of Conclave which I find fucking ridiculous cause he literally reacted how any normal person would. For month Rika as been distant from him, all methods and efforts to try and get through to her as been futile, fast forward to that night on the ship, he walked in on his fiancé in the arms of his best friend finding comfort, when she has been brushing him off for months. Rightfully so both him and Banks were upset but everyone tend to only judge him. Come to find out that the woman he loves thinks so low of him, that he would leave her because of fertility issues and even confided in someone else. So yea him walking away from the situation was honestly a normal and natural reaction. Like he is allowed to feel and react like anyone in his shoes would. and I find it crazy how people love saying he doesn't care for, love or respect Rika when there is evidence proving otherwise.

𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒂 𝒊𝒔 𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍'𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅. 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒓𝒐𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒆. 𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒏. 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒆 𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓.

"𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒔," 𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒚𝒔, "𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒐. 𝑰'𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆. 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒈𝒐 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆." 𝑯𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒔, 𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒔 𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒓𝒚. "𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓.

𝑾𝒆 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍 𝑪𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝑬𝒓𝒊𝒌𝒂 𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒆'𝒔 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒏 𝒊𝒕. 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔. 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒉𝒊𝒎, 𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒃𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔.

𝑰 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓. 𝑻𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔, 𝑰 𝒓𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒖𝒎𝒃 𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆, 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒕. "𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒂. 𝑰'𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖."

𝑺𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒂𝒎𝒆, 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒍𝒍. 𝑾𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒚, 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒖𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒆'𝒅 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓.

"𝑶𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒓𝒖𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒔, 𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒔, 𝒔𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒂 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒑𝒂𝒑𝒆𝒓. 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔."

❦ Like you can bring up that he didn't apologize to her and it is clear that this is one of people's biggest freeze moment but let's not forget that people have different ways for expressing themselves and in MichaelRika case, they have proven over and over again on multiple occasions that they prefer and believe in actions over words. Rika wanted Michael to show her that he is sorry to basically dedicate his life to her and guess what? He did just that.

❦ I could go on more but as this post turn out longer than I anticipated I will end it her on this note. Michael to me is the perfect representation of a complex character, he is a product of cause and effect and it shines through alot through the series. I wanna finish by saying that I am in no way shape or form defending his actions but simply highlighting and explaining them.

#michael crist #michaelrika #devils night #devils night corrupt #erika fane #devils night series #rika fane #michaelerika #penelope douglas

[midnights-wish]

years ago i did the mbti-personality test & according to it i was an infp, just now i did it again because i thought 'you know, a few years have passed & i've gotten to know myself better - gotten quite a bit less shy, a bit more extroverted, a bit more daring, etc., so i'm sure i'd get a much different result now'. but no, i'm still an infp apparently

#i do know that you cant really trust this test since there hasn't been proper research on it (as far as im aware) #but i still think its pretty fun that years can pass #& that i can change so much as a person that i cant even fathom the person i once was #cause the me from years ago pretty much was a different person alltogether it seems to me #but still have the same result nonetheless #i guess im surprised cause the result never felt quite right to me for some reason (still doesnt really) #but anyway #according to enneagram im a 4w5 #which does fit me i feel #infp #infp 4w5 #mbti types #ramble

[ozzgin]

Request/Idea-

Male Yandere Lawyer x Female Embroider Reader (a lady who works as a tailor is fine too)

Imagine a man falling head over heels for that newly employed lady who hand embroiders beautiful handkerchiefs in a luxury shop he visits to get his custom suits! And he just trying to coax her into dating him, marrying him, and becoming his stay at home wife (and mother of his children eventually) 🥰🤭

Age difference? I need some DILF Daddy energy more in my life (but don’t make him an actual father…yet)

P.S. I adore your OCs and writing. And your artwork is way too fucking good! You’re art is just *chef’s kiss* infuckingcredible

-👘

Ooh, you know what this reminds me of? I have a yaoi volume from Scarlet Beriko, “Queen and the tailor”, about an interior designer that visits a legendary tailor whose suits will supposedly help you achieve success. The tailor turns out to be a scary looking, blunt man but nonetheless extremely talented. I liked the premise a lot, so it’s definitely interesting to try out a different perspective.

In this case I have the image of a patient, soft-spoken reader and a hurried, short tempered lawyer. Comically different but in a way that eventually works out, you know? Also thank you for the kind words!

Yandere!Lawyer x Embroiderer!Reader Headcanons

Featuring a Reader that is blissfully unaware the lawyer she just stared dating has their entire life together already sorted out.

Content: female reader, age gap, older yandere, obsessive behavior

Your eyes begin to hurt mildly, so you look out the window and blink repeatedly, trying to refresh your poor sight. Such detailed works always strain you terribly, but you love seeing the finished result. Others must, too, given your handkerchiefs are often sold out the very same day. Right before your needle pierces the silk canvas anew, the door opens with a burst and you jolt. An older man in a suit, arguing loudly over the phone. He’s drumming his fingers over the counter, eyes darting around in search for an attendant. You know the type quite well, so you hurry over with the hoop still in your hand. “Might I help you with anything?” You mouth discreetly. He turns to you, stares for a couple of seconds, and promptly ends his call.

Out of all the places, he certainly didn’t expect regretting his rusty, unpolished flirting skills in a luxury tailor shop. Yet here he is now, clumsily mumbling something about his new suit he’s come to pick up and wondering how to connect that with your number. The name’s the easy part, as it’s neatly and conveniently printed out on the little badge pinned to your collar. Everything else, not so much. You excuse yourself and return moments later with his order. Shit. You tilt your head, confused by the delayed response, worrying whether you forgot something. Next time. He’ll figure it out for sure next time he comes here.

If there’s one good thing about his career, it’s that his eyes have been trained to spot every detail. For example the embroidery hoop you gently held while speaking to him, so he knows exactly what his next custom order will be. Truth be told, he didn’t anticipate your popularity and long waiting times, but a calculated raised tone with a sprinkle of intimidation has convinced the employee to assign him to you as earliest priority. Whether he can flirt remains to be seen, but arguing with others? Child’s play.

“Thank you for coming again today.” You bow slightly and extend the gift bag. “Although, I must say…I’ve never seen you using these before. What has caused your sudden interest in handkerchiefs?” Rather bold of you to begin such conversations, but your curiosity is too great. No matter how hard you try, you can’t imagine why a blunt, nonchalant man like him would abruptly become passionate about embroidery. A lover? You smile faintly at the idea. Whoever it is, they’ve taken quite the challenge upon themselves. The lawyer frowns at the inquiry. It seems you’re just as observant as him. Maybe this shall be the pretext he can finally cling onto. So he presents it in the factual truth you’d hear in a courthouse: it’s his excuse to see you. You raise your eyebrows in surprise. Well now, isn’t it just silly? He could’ve simply asked. Buying countless expensive handmade items instead of plainly confessing his intentions…He stumbles, flustered. The same man whose ruthless reputation has even reached your humble ears is anxiously awaiting your response with a deep blush on his face.

The childlike innocence doesn’t last long. You’ve agreed to date him and that’s great, but he’s a man with little time that has known exactly what he wants for many years. When he laid his eyes on you he didn’t imagine cheesy coffee dates as you discuss your favorite color and cautiously breach the topic of intimacy. What’s the point? He’s already certain he’ll spend the rest of his life with you. Skip the unnecessary steps. On the other hand, you’re not as cooperative as he’d wish. Truly, the tangible proof that opposites attract. You’re always calm and take your time with everything. It’s almost frustrating how easygoing you are. When asked when you’re moving in with him, you just smiled and wondered out loud what could be wrong with your small studio above the shop. Marriage? Good question, you never thought about it.

Oh, the irony. Last time a client was being particularly difficult, your lawyer boyfriend pulled him out by the collar under the mortified stares of the other attendants and shoppers. The exact attitude he himself would’ve shown before, yet this time it’s different. Of course it is, it involves you. His thin patience runs out if it’s you. That’s all there is to it. Can you blame a man for following his heart? They say you should always chase your dreams; he prefers hunting them down efficiently, and the shotgun is pointed in your direction. His sweet, exquisite prey he can never get enough of.

Finally you agree to move in with him. Your hesitation was maddening and he’d started coming up with downright psychotic alternatives to convince you, such as your studio burning down after a vicious attack of some unknown hooligans. So it was rather wise of you not to push someone that knows the law like the back of his hand, even if you aren’t aware of it yet. He enthusiastically guides you around your new forever home, omitting unimportant details. The spare office he emptied for a future nursery? You’ll get to that later.

He can’t wait to spoil you. See, that’s the advantage of dating an older man. He’s gotten his life sorted out a long time ago. All that was left was finding you. You just need to be a darling and behave. He knows you will. After all, you’re his talented little embroideress that won’t have to worry about anything else ever again.

#female reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #male yandere x reader #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere fic #yandere lawyer #tw yandere #yandere oc #yandere original character #original work

[cherienymphe]

Teenage Dirtbag III (JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron)

Warnings: attempted NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, mentions of blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.

Your rescue just comes with a price.

~

Your brief conversation with JJ Maybank was still on your mind weeks later.

It was so funny to think that you hadn’t actually done anything wrong in the grand scheme of things, but if Rafe ever found out… The thought made you shudder, gaze focused on the pool water as the man himself laughed behind you with Kelce about something. You’d been doing so good lately. Aside from that awful night after the movies, Rafe hardly touched you.

It was a far cry from three months prior.

You still winced when you thought about his fist coming down across your face, voice loud in your ear as he screamed at you. Weeks had been spent holed up in your bedroom under the guise of being sick, and it was a miracle your parents hadn’t forced you to take some tests with how often you’d been ‘sick’ in the past six months alone. You lightly sighed, reaching up to touch your chin and just relieved it didn’t feel sore anymore.

Thoughts of that conversation with JJ instilled fear in you. Even just thinking about it made you tense up, but at the same time, it also caused irritation to bubble up inside of you. JJ Maybank was just so… You pursed your lips, taking a page out of Rafe’s book and opting to label him as ‘a little shit’. Rafe was so far from some saint, but it was plain to see that JJ enjoyed provoking your boyfriend.

However, it wasn’t JJ’s fault that Rafe took that out on you.

If you had a normal non-violent boyfriend, he’d simply ignore the other blond, or at the worst, he’d just fight him. Not you. How was JJ to know that Rafe’s jealousy would result in black eyes and swollen lips and sore wrists for you? Your eyes traced the clear blue water, a frown taking over as memories of that oh so brief conversation made you feel…warm.

It felt nice to talk to a guy and not have to worry about saying the wrong thing or making a questionable facial expression or just being so alert at all times. With Rafe, you could never relax, could never let your guard down, and you were convinced that you were going to start greying by the time you turned 30. With JJ…you didn’t have to overanalyze everything that came out of his mouth and your mouth too. You hadn’t felt the need to carefully watch his face for any sudden sign of a mood shift.

You honestly couldn’t remember the last time you felt like that.

…and that made you feel so guilty for some reason.

Rafe was your boyfriend. He wasn’t a very good one, but he was your boyfriend nonetheless, and despite the fact that it wasn’t, those few minutes in the hallway felt like…well…cheating. It was insane to say that because it wasn’t anything close to it, but you knew Rafe and what would upset him. You knew, and that’s why you were hiding it from him. It wasn’t like you were lying, but a lie of omission still counted, right?

You were pulled from your thoughts by the feel of familiar hands on your shoulders, causing you to jump out of habit, and Rafe only rubbed them in what you were sure was meant to be a soothing manner. When you looked over your shoulder, he was knelt behind you, that cheeky smile on his lips as he eyed you. Rafe knew the effect he had on you…and you swore he got off to it.

“It’s getting kind of late, so we’re heading inside,” he told you.

Rafe wasn’t telling you to be the considerate boyfriend who’s just letting you know he’s heading in. Rafe was telling you because he was going in and fully expected you to join him. It didn’t matter that you were relaxed with your feet in the water and your mind elsewhere, and so swallowing down a sigh, you let him pull you to your feet. His hand squeezed yours as he pulled you along, and out of habit, you rested your free hand on his arm.

“I think we’re gonna call it a night,” Rafe drawled to the other two men in the house.

Their initial response was chuckles, Topper eyeing you both as Kelce shook his head.

“Yeah, whatever you say, man, just wash my sheets in the morning, alright?”

Kelce’s chuckles only increased at that, and you felt heat rise to your face.

“Don’t be dicks,” your boyfriend called over his shoulder, and despite his words and his tone, there was a small grin on his face, and you only felt your chest ache.

Sex with Rafe was so complicated.

He absolutely terrified you, and so that didn’t make for the most comfortable of atmospheres whenever his lips were on yours. However, something innate in your body—call it animal instinct, conditioning, or merely self-preservation—reacted to him in ways you weren’t necessarily proud of whenever he got his hands on you.

…and Rafe always wanted to get his hands on you.

Rafe liked your fear, you didn’t need to be a mind reader to know that, and you were sure he liked the sight of bruises on your skin even more. He liked seeing his mark, and no matter how temporary, you felt that it served as some brand to him. You recalled reading once that cattle weren’t branded to be considered a part of something but instead to show where they needed to be returned to if they got lost. Something had twisted deep in your gut at that.

…because you knew that if Rafe could, he’d brand you for all to see.

Brand you to show the world where you needed to be returned.

After your quick joint shower, Rafe wrapped the large towel around you both, holding you close as he walked you into the guest bedroom. You could briefly hear Kelce and Topper talking downstairs, making drinks no doubt as Rafe shut the door behind you. When his fingers danced along your sides, you couldn’t swallow down the startled giggle, involuntarily pressing yourself against the blond to get away from them.

“You’ve been so quiet all day,” he murmured, pressing his face into your neck as he tightened his arms around you.

Blinking, you weighed your response.

“I’ve just been in my head, I guess.”

Rafe was quiet for a moment before humming, and you both felt and heard him take a deep breath.

“You’ve been in your head for weeks then.”

You froze at that, it was only for half a second, but you were sure Rafe caught it. You didn’t like that your internal conflict was noticeable, and when you tried to pull away, Rafe only refused to let you go.

“What’s going on with you?”

The question came out whispered and gentle…but you knew better.

“Just…things. Family stuff mostly.”

The lie came easy, and you let your eyes close, telling yourself that this was no longer a lie of omission, but how could you tell Rafe that you’d been thinking about JJ Maybank? How could you tell him that you’d been lingering on a single interaction that made you feel miles better than the last year and a half of your relationship?

JJ had talked to you like a friend…like an equal, and you’d forgotten what that was like.

Everyone saw you as an extension of Rafe. His dad, his friends, and even your own parents sometimes. They were always wondering where Rafe was and what Rafe was up to, and you didn’t blame them. After all, in their eyes, Rafe was perfect. Your boyfriend was a dream come true as far as future sons-in-law went, and as far as they knew, Rafe treated you like a princess.

In their eyes, this was the man who rarely let you drive your own car because he’d rather chauffeur you around. Rafe was the boyfriend who was always bringing their daughter gifts and flowers and popping in to check on the whole family. They swooned at how often Rafe called you throughout the day when he was otherwise occupied. Rafe was more than deserving of you.

On the other side of things though…

Rafe drove you around so he’d know firsthand where you were, how long you’d be, and when you were leaving. He wanted complete control over your mobility. So many of those flowers and gifts were only given to you after a particularly nasty fight that resulted in a bleeding lip or bruised back. Rafe popped in to check on everyone…but also to make sure you were exactly where you said you were. He constantly called for the same reason.

To your parents he was a dream and to you…a nightmare.

“What family stuff?” Rafe scoffed, pulling you against him and nipping at your neck. “I don’t think I’ve even seen your parents argue.”

He laughed to himself about that, but you only pressed your lips together because you knew what was coming.

“Your family’s perfect.”

He murmured it against your skin, but the bitterness was heard loud and clear.

Rafe playfully threw you onto the bed, quickly joining you and settling himself on top of you. He pressed his lips against yours, humming into the kiss, and you sharply inhaled when you could feel him hard and throbbing against your thigh. When you shifted your leg, Rafe groaned.

“Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad,” he whispered, kissing you again. “…and if it is…”

He adjusted himself, resting his forearms into the mattress beside your head. Rafe completely caged you in as he gazed into your eyes, running them over you and pulling his lip between his teeth. The tips of his fingers grazed the side of your face, and you swallowed.

“It’s nothing I can’t help you forget, right?”

He held your gaze, gently brushing his nose against yours, and reminding yourself that he wanted an answer, you nodded.

“Right,” you breathed.

You kissed him back when his lips pressed to yours again, and on instinct, you rested your hands on his lower back. His hips curved into yours, the tip of him brushing against you and making you sharply inhale. You felt Rafe smile into the kiss, and his lips traveled from your lips to your jaw and then eventually your neck. When Rafe nipped at the skin, you reached up to run your fingers through his hair.

Rafe was eager to be inside of you, and it was evident in the way he reached down between your legs, fingers rushing to brush over you. Your breath hitched at the feel, and you lifted your hips when he started to dip them into you. His lips were at your ear as he thrust his fingers into you, and your hips lifted again.

“You’re so tight, you know that?” he breathed, and you parted your legs more.

You were so afraid of Rafe, so afraid of him, but once he got his hands on you like this, he typically wasn’t hurting you. It’d been months since the last time he got angry enough to hold you down and force himself on you. In these moments though, you didn’t have to watch your every comment and observe his every move. When Rafe was kissing you and pushing his cock into you, it was one of the few times you could just be and not have to worry about setting him off.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned into your mouth, hips snapping against yours.

With every surge of them, you gasped, clinging to him in more ways than one as you arched your chest up into his. His hair was still damp from the shower, and you twisted your fingers into the wet locks. His teeth scraped over your skin and a low moan climbed out of his throat when you wrapped your legs around his waist.

The bed jostled from his movements, and when he snaked his arms around your waist, you reached down to hold onto them. The force in which he thrust into you was almost painful, but you were used to it, and it was something you’d grown to expect…welcome even. You had to if you wanted any semblance of happiness in this relationship—any brief moments of joy.

When Rafe pushed himself up to hover over you, your hands slid up his chest, and when his nose touched yours, you knew what he wanted. Lifting your head, you kissed him, and Rafe was ravenous in returning it. Every curve of his hips made your toes curl, and your nails clawed at the sheets when he fisted his hand into the hair at the nape of your neck.

He cursed into the kiss, and as the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, your other hand pressed into his back, nails dragging along his skin. You knew it was nothing at all, but leaving your own mark or two made you feel just a little bit better. You came first, but Rafe fucked you through it, continuing to plunge his cock into you and making your legs shake.

The closer Rafe got, the sloppier his thrusts became…and the more forceful he became. When he wrapped a hand around your wrist, you didn’t protest, accepting the feel of him pinning your arm down against the bed. His free hand roughly dug into your hips and then your thigh—painfully so—and you could only half hiss and half moan in response. His hips slammed down against yours, and when Rafe came inside of you, he stilled against you, completely pinning you beneath him.

Despite the fact that you were on birth control, you never not had a brief moment of panic.

“I just like feeling all of you,” Rafe had said over a year ago. “…and neither one of us are sleeping with anyone else…right…?”

The thought of getting pregnant scared you probably more than anything. Despite the fact that you’d accepted your fate and the future that was your relationship with Rafe, getting pregnant by him seemed so final. It would be the final nail in the coffin, and the last thing you needed in your relationship with Rafe. You knew it would happen eventually, but something in you desperately hoped that Rafe would just be a little better. Even just a little.

You couldn’t imagine bringing a child into this world just to be abused.

When your boyfriend rolled off of you, he pulled you with him, resting your head on his heaving chest as you kept your gaze on the wall. Rafe’s fingers gently trailed up and down your back, and you’d just closed your eyes to try and find sleep when he spoke.

“You know that I love you…right?”

It felt out of place, and you frowned slightly but eventually nodded.

“I know,” you whispered back.

You felt his hand trace patterns up your back, fingers dancing along your skin before his hand curved around the back of your neck.

“I know that I hurt you sometimes,” he murmured, making you swallow. “…but… It doesn’t mean that I don’t…”

He trailed off, his words dying in the air, and your eyes watered as you stared at the wall.

“I know, Rafe.”

When his hand landed on your cheek, you lifted your head, looking up at him. He studied your face, blue eyes flickering between your own, and you watched the way his tongue darted between his lips.

“You know how I get sometimes.”

“Rafe, I know,” you hurried to reassure him, reaching for his arm. “I get it, okay?”

You were sitting up, now, looking down at him, and you watched him lick his lips again. His hand took yours, threading your fingers together, and you felt compelled to hold eye contact. Rafe slowly took a deep breath, and you watched his eyes narrow.

“I just don’t want you to ever think you don’t mean anything to me,” he quietly told you. “…because you do. You’re my world.”

His hand tightened on yours, almost painfully, and you swallowed. His blue gaze looked so lifeless—glazed over—and you swallowed again.

“If you left, you may as well have just…died.”

You eventually nodded when he held your gaze for a few moments more, and when he pulled you back down, he gave you a sweet kiss, hand resting on the back of your head when you laid down on his chest again. Your gaze didn’t leave the wall when he reached over to turn out the lamp.

You were waiting on Rafe’s order when you saw him again.

You felt a sense of déjà vu when he walked into The Wreck, blue eyes meeting yours and a small smile thrown your way. Only the last time this same scenario had played out, you’d smiled back, and Rafe had put a gun in your mouth for it. You shuddered to remember that day, and you turned away from JJ without another thought.

You were unsurprised—but disappointed—when he saddled up next to you.

“In some places—and I’m pretty sure Outer Banks is one of them—that’s considered rude.”

You only spared the blond a brief glance, sighing.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you lied.

You heard him snort to himself, silence stretching between you for a moment before he eventually spoke again.

“Where’s your asshole boyfriend?”

You couldn’t help yourself, throwing him a scathing look at that, but the only response you got was a wider grin and one raised eyebrow. Ward had called Rafe the moment he parked, and signaling to you that it would take a minute, he’d waved you on ahead to get the food. That was what you told JJ, and you heard him whistle.

“He let you get it all by yourself? Wow, he’s really stepping up.”

His tone was light and mocking, but you merely fixed him with an unamused look.

It was only then did you realize just how close he was, and you couldn’t help but to swallow at his close proximity. Without thinking much of it, you inhaled and almost immediately regretted it. Rafe and all of his friends smelt so…sharp. They smelled like cologne and laundry detergent and the freshly cut manicured grass on the country club golf course. It was a scent you’d grown up around, a scent you were accustomed to.

JJ just smelled like fresh air.

The blond before you reminded you of the salt water at the beach and the woodsy scent of trees and fresh rain. JJ smelled warm and light, and it was a smell that made you want to just…relax. Realizing that your thoughts were heading into dangerous territory—again—you slightly moved away from him. He noticed.

“Jesus, you’d think it was you I fought on the beach.”

“What are you doing here?” you finally asked him, still staring straight ahead as you waited for your order.

“Well, not only is this place owned by my best friend’s family…” you nodded at that, having actually forgotten that. “…but like you, I also like to eat.”

You rolled your eyes, and you heard JJ chuckle to himself. You tapped your fingers against the counter, feeling his gaze on you no matter how much you ignored it. Rafe sounded irritated almost as soon as he answered the phone, so there was no doubt in your mind that he was going back and forth with Ward about something. For just a brief moment, you wished he was here just so you had a better excuse to ignore the man at your side.

“Rafe’s not here, you know,” he eventually said. “You don’t have to pretend like I don’t exist.”

“Clearly you don’t know my boyfriend as well as you’d like to think you do then,” you snorted. “…because I absolutely do.”

You were relieved when Mrs. Carrera brought out your food, and you felt it was obvious in the way your shoulders sagged. You thanked her, thinking to yourself that you couldn’t get away from JJ fast enough, stepping away just as Rafe stepped inside. Your heart only stuttered a little at the sight of him, but you covered it up with a smile.

“You ready to go?” you asked him, frowning a bit when he pecked you on the lips and proceeded to move past you.

“I want to get a drink,” he told you over his shoulder.

You watched him lean against the counter next to JJ as he talked to the other woman, and you couldn’t stop yourself from eyeing them—comparing them. Something about the sight of them together rubbed you the wrong way, and maybe it was because the last time they were in such close proximity it had ended in a brawl.

Or maybe it was because you’d talked to JJ when you knew you shouldn’t.

You watched JJ say something to your boyfriend, and Rafe’s smirk in response didn’t ease your worries. His arms were folded over the counter, and he turned his head ever so slightly to look at the other blond out of the corner of his eye. He said something—evidently something rude by the way JJ tensed—and to your disappointment, you watched Rafe pull a dollar out of his pocket before flicking it at JJ just as Mrs. Carrera returned with his drink.

“For your troubles, JJ,” you heard him say, a cruel grin on his lips. “Don’t go spending that all at once, now.”

You couldn’t stop your frown, but as Rafe neared you, something else caught your eye instead.

JJ was leaning over the counter, pointing at something towards the kitchen while Mrs. Carrera seemed to sigh in exasperation. His white t-shirt rode up a bit, and your gaze lingered on the discoloration on his side. The sight of it made your lips part, and your frown deepened the longer you stared at it. The sight of it was so familiar to you, and despite the fact that you knew Sarah’s friends didn’t lead the safest lifestyle, something in you wouldn’t let you believe that came from some dirt bike accident.

It was too perfect, too precise of a bruise…and you would know better than anyone.

When Rafe grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the restaurant, you forced yourself to pull your eyes away.

You didn’t want a repeat of the aftermath of the conversation in the hall, so the days that followed were spent trying to be as normal and as present as possible. However, you couldn’t stop your mind from drifting to the sight of JJ’s skin at The Wreck. It wouldn’t leave you, and you didn’t need to be some professional psychiatrist to figure out why.

You didn’t know much about his home life, only that his dad kind of sucked from what you’d gathered from Sarah and Rafe and Rafe’s friends. However, you never had the desire to understand what that meant in full. Now, though… You couldn’t help wondering if it encompassed something more horrific than you’d imagined.

There were times when you wanted to ask Sarah about it, but it felt weird. JJ wasn’t your friend, wasn’t even close, so you didn’t think you had a right to his personal life. Especially something so deeply personal, and even weirder, you and Sarah weren’t friends. It just felt strange to go to her about something that didn’t involve you nor her but instead her friend who you were supposed to have no kind of interactions or connections with.

It was especially present on your mind when Sarah’s friends were in the house one day. You’d been in the kitchen when you heard the van pull into the yard, and you’d only smiled in response when Sarah and her friends greeted you.

“Is Rafe here?” she asked you while they all made their way towards the backyard. “John B. can’t find his Juul and now I’m positive that was what I saw Rafe tossing in the trash the other day.”

You frowned at her with a shake of your head.

“He’s running some errand for Ward, but he should be back any minute.”

The blonde girl huffed, mumbling a dejected thanks before making her way to the backyard. You couldn’t stop yourself from staring after them, debating with yourself before thinking better of it. As you made your way towards the stairs, your gaze passed over JJ who stood near the backdoor, his gaze already on you as you climbed the stairs. Ignoring him, you made yourself comfortable in Rafe’s room.

Sure enough, as you’d told Sarah, you heard the distinct sound of Rafe’s truck pulling into the yard not even an hour later. You paid it no mind, focused on your laptop screen as you finished up some lingering homework due in a few days. Distinctly, you could hear Sarah talking to Rafe as she made her annoyance with him clear, but aside from the brief penetration into your bubble, you didn’t give it any more thought.

You were so focused that you couldn’t even really note how long Rafe had been downstairs before finally joining you. You heard the bedroom door open and close, and you briefly glanced at him over your shoulder.

“How’d it go?” you asked him, eyes preoccupied once again.

Your boyfriend didn’t answer right away, but when he did, he was much closer than you anticipated. You hadn’t heard him move.

“Fine enough,” was his simple answer, and you only hummed when you felt his fingers kneading into your shoulders.

You both felt and heard him pull away, and you were forced from your own thoughts when the sound of music reached your ears from his speakers, familiar with Rafe’s Apple Music playlist. Frowning, you turned to look at him, feeling like your efforts to study were pretty obvious. However, your face fell a tad as your gaze connected with his.

Rafe leaned against his dresser, even gaze resting on you as he simply…stared. Nothing about his expression was readable, and that was your first clue that something was very very wrong. Telling yourself that it could wait, you closed your laptop, scooting to fully face him on the bed. His hands were pressed into the wood, and your boyfriend was so still as you two just stared at each other.

“What?” you finally asked, and despite the music, it wasn’t too loud enough to where he couldn’t hear you.

Again, Rafe remained quiet, but you knew that he heard you so your frown only deepened. Moving until your feet were touching the floor, you stared up at him, and even with no words being spoken, you felt something uneasy festering deep within your gut. It had been some months since you and Rafe had one of your big fights, but you knew the signs all too well, and your heart sank when he took a deep breath.

“You apologized to JJ on my behalf?”

You heard a ringing in your ears for a few seconds as his words lingered in the air, and no matter how much you wanted to, you couldn’t look away from him. In this moment, you felt like prey, and you felt like it would be the stupidest thing in the world to take your eyes off of the man before you. Your lips parted as you struggled with what to say, and you eventually snapped them shut, struggling to find a way to talk your way out of this.

“I…”

“I already know the truth,” Rafe told you, tilting his head to the side. “I just want to hear it from you.”

Swallowing, you took a deep breath.

“I…felt bad,” you slowly told him, and you watched Rafe nod.

“You felt bad,” he repeated, pressing his tongue to his teeth and the inside of his cheek.

“Rafe-.”

“When did this conversation even happen?” he interrupted, frowning now. “I’m trying to understand when you and JJ Maybank have ever been around each other long enough to have a conversation where you’re apologizing to him for me.”

“Rafe, it lasted a minute at the most,” you quietly argued.

“Was this at The Wreck?”

You knew he was referring to days ago, and your mind ran rampant, trying to figure out if it was better to lie or not. You were already caught in a lie somewhat, and you really didn’t want to make this worse. You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of Rafe’s bitter laugh, and when you looked at him again, you could see that he was studying your face.

“Don’t think you can sit here and lie to me. When did this happen?” he repeated.

Exhaling, you blinked back tears.

“It was a few weeks ago,” you whispered, and you watched Rafe nod. “Sarah and her friends were going to the beach. JJ was in the bathroom, and I just ran into him in the hallway.”

When Rafe didn’t react, you continued, heart racing.

“Rafe, I just felt bad, that was all. I saw his face, and I felt bad, okay?”

Rafe leaned in a bit, hands and lower back still pressed against his dresser.

“Felt bad for what?” he spat, visage finally cracking. “He was the one bothering us, and I gave him what he was looking for.”

When you opened your mouth, Rafe cut you off.

“…and to make matters worse, you lied to me.”

Your brows furrowed at that, and you didn’t miss the way Rafe’s nostrils flared.

“Family bullshit, my ass. You knew you were wrong,” he threw at you, pointing at you. “See, you think I don’t know you…but I know you like the back of my hand.”

You lowered your gaze, unable to look him in the eye when he got like this.

“I knew something was wrong, and you lied to my face.”

You weren’t able to keep your tears from spilling over, and you wiped your face, looking up at him again. Your lips trembled while Rafe stared you down, and you were very aware of your throat and how tight it felt in this moment. You whispered his name, trying to get him to see that you hadn’t meant anything by it.

“I just felt bad,” you slowly told him again, voice quiet.

You wiped your face again, but fresh tears just replaced those, and Rafe studied the action. He leaned back some, looking down his nose at you, dirty blond hair curtained along his forehead. There was nothing warm or comforting about his gaze, malice stewing there as the corner of his lips curved upwards just a tad.

“Why are you crying?” he calmly asked. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”

With a shaky breath, you pushed yourself to your feet, but Rafe had closed the distance in the same amount of time. You leaned away from him, a pleading look in your gaze.

“Do you…? Wh-what do you want me to say to him? How can I fix this?”

“Do you think I want you talking to him again? Do you really think that’s going to make me feel better, right now?”

You reached up to keep some distance between you two, but Rafe slapped your hands away. Your face was next, the action happening so fast that you only had time to gasp. You’d just touched your cheek when his hands were digging into your upper arms, violently shaking you.

“I just might do something a little impulsive if I saw you talking to him, right now, so trust me, you don’t want that,” he sneered.

“Rafe,” you gasped, grabbing one of his arms.

He only responded by grabbing that wrist, squeezing it and twisting it until you were forced to try and get him to let go. His face was so close to yours, nose brushing your cheek as his lip curled over your teeth.

“Do you know what that was like for me?” he wondered, forcing you back until you were cornered against the wall. “To have that Pogue throw it in my face that my own girlfriend went behind my back and apologized for what I did to him? For what he brought on himself?”

You pushed against his chest with your free hand, and Rafe only shoved you back, making you wince.

“I mean, have you lost your mind?” he wondered, fingers coming up to touch the side of his head. “Were you just thinking ‘God, what can I do to really piss Rafe off’?”

You were full on sobbing, now as you tried to push him away.

“Wait, no, you…you were thinking that I wouldn’t find out,” he chuckled, and you got no warning before he threw you to the floor.

Your sore wrist made it hard to push yourself up, and Rafe let his impatience show.

“Get up,” he barked at you. “Get the fuck up.”

Deciding he didn’t feel like waiting for you to do that, Rafe pulled you up by your hair, forcing you to cry out as you reached up to grab his hand. Your back was forced to arch as you tried your best to lean away from him, and when he shoved you into his dresser, a choked sound escaped you as pain flared in your stomach.

Rafe seemed to anticipate your next move the moment you took a step forward.

“Where are you going, huh?” he drawled, yanking you back.

“I’m sorry,” you screamed at him, trying to pull his arms off of you.

“No, you’re not,” he frowned at you, pressing a thumb against your throat. “You’re just sorry I found out.”

You pushed at his face, and your boyfriend retaliated by pushing at yours, forcing you to stumble and fall back, the wall barely serving to catch you. In a panic, you turned and ran into his bathroom, just narrowly shutting and locking the door the same time Rafe’s fists hit against it. He hit it again, harder this time, and you flinched, stepping back.

“Open this door,” you heard him say, breathing labored.

He kicked at it when you didn’t, and you tearfully stared at it with wide eyes.

“Baby,” he slowly said. “You do not want me to kick it down. I can promise you you won’t like it.”

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you looked around. You were at a loss, mind going a mile a minute as he told you to open the door again, and more tears just kept falling. You could feel yourself overheating, and all those moments where you anticipated his next move or tried to anticipate the best move for you became worthless. This wasn’t a conversation where you were trying to prevent the violent outcome.

The violent outcome was here.

Pushing yourself against the door was in vain, because with a few more harsh kicks, it was forced open, and you were forced to the floor. Your hands shook as you fought against Rafe’s, trying to keep them off of you, but when they wrapped around your neck, breathing became your first priority. He briefly raised your head before slamming it back down, and you felt no relief when his hands let you go because you immediately saw him reach for his pants.

Even with a tilting vision and confused mind, his intent was clear.

However, a harsh knock on his room door startled you both. With a struggle, you reached up to touch your head just as Rafe’s eyes met yours. You tearfully blinked at him, wondering what he planned to do, when another knock followed the first, their fist banging on the door, and with a huff, Rafe got off of you. You licked your lips, unsurprised by the taste of blood.

You heard Rafe open his door.

“What the hell are you doing up here?” Sarah aggressively questioned. “We can hear you banging all the way out in the yard.”

You closed your eyes as you realized that Rafe’s music hadn’t been loud enough, and with an inflamed face and aching stomach, you turned on your side. A small groan left you when you wrapped your arms around your lower half, throat starting to hurt too.

“I was just trying to move my dresser around,” you heard Rafe rudely tell her. “Didn’t mean to disturb her royal highness.”

You didn’t see Sarah’s response, but knowing the younger girl, she probably rolled her eyes.

“Whatever. Where’s Y/N?”

“She’s in the bathroom.”

Rafe’s response was immediate.

“Just keep it down. Never mind how annoying it is, but Y/N told me earlier she had some studying to do. We all know you don’t care about that, but…”

The rest of Sarah’s words were lost to you as Rafe slammed the door in her face. One of your hands came up to cover your own face as you sobbed into it, lip still bleeding from where your teeth had cut into the skin. You could hear Rafe’s footsteps as he approached the bathroom, and you were relieved when he didn’t enter, just opting to stand in the doorway.

You could feel his eyes on you, but you didn’t dare look. The thought of what almost happened—and what no doubt would later on—just made you cry harder, and Rafe’s heated sigh reached your ears.

“When you’re soaking in the bathtub tonight,” he slowly began, tone smug. “I want you to remember whose fault this is.”

…and as crazy as it seemed, you couldn’t determine if he meant you…or JJ.

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #dark!jj maybank #dark!jj maybank x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #obx fanfiction #obx #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction

[ugh-yoongi]

hang up if u want to | kmg

he's in japan. you're at home, knowing there's no point in staring at your phone, waiting. mingyu might not wanna define what the two of you are, but that certainly doesn't stop him from asking for what he wants.

pairing: idol!mingyu x f. reader genre: situationship au; a lil angst, smut warnings: swearing. sexting — use of gendered terms for genitalia, mentions of oral and penetrative sex, masturbation, images/videos, dirty talk i guess?, squirting. one mention of reader wearing a dress. another mention of reader wearing mingyu’s shirt and it being large on her. (not meant to be an indication of size—that mf is just so large i think most people would drown in his clothes.) mingyu is domineering and kind of brat tamer-y but i wouldn't say this is dom-y at all. he also uses the term "baby" a lot bc i refuse to use y/n. rating: explicit. minors dni. wordcount: 3.6k listen to: namasenda - dare (pm) / khalid, 6lack, ty dolla $ign - otw / keshi - like i need u / edward maya & vika jigulina - stereo love / monsta x - addicted / brockhampton - sugar / shy martin - good together author's note: hello, i barely text men let alone sext them, so if this sucks my bad. i'm also not 100% comfy for writing any groups outside of bts, so i'm also sorry if the characterization is off. the mingyu brainrot was brainrotting tho bc if there's one thing he's gonna do it's look hot holding his phone in a photo, so. here we are. i was gonna wait and post this tomorrow but it's valentine's day so fuck it we ball. thank you: @the-boy-meets-evil, @hot-soop, & @effortandmore for checking this over and brainstorming with me. namasenda for the lyrics in the title and inspo.

Kim Mingyu Missed Call (2)

Your eyes glance upwards at the time. It’s nearing one a.m.; Mingyu’s second call came and went only a few minutes ago. The first one will have come not long after he got off stage, because they always do. There’s a script—unspoken and unacknowledged, but a script nonetheless—and Mingyu follows it religiously.

You sigh. Leave your phone on your nightstand as you change into pajamas, back into the bathroom to wash your face. Roll your eyes as you hear the texts roll in, the sound grating and ominous as it vibrates against the wood.

All part of the script.

Kim Mingyu: just got back to the hotel Kim Mingyu: you up

Also part of the script: this is the only way it goes. Maybe Mingyu wants to text you, but adrenaline’s the only reason he ever goes through with it. That post-concert high, nothing else to do with all that energy but invest it into you, and the thing about scripts is that they get old, grow stale. Always the same thing, and you can only have that conversation so many times before you get tired and rip it up.

We all have roles to play. Mingyu is the one who refuses to define what it is the two of you have, put a label on it. He’s the one who calls from countries away and speaks in that low, hushed tone. He’s the tempter, the one who holds all the cards but refuses to lay them down.

A royal flush, every single time.

And you—you’re not helpless. Not some poor creature fighting for its life in a spun-silk web. Mingyu’s capable of devouring you in more ways than one, but it’s not like that. Not really. As laissez-faire as he is, you come and go as you please, too. Perhaps it’s as mutually beneficial as it is destructive, but that’s the nature of the production; the result of the roles you two of you play.

Kim Mingyu: you ignoring me? Kim Mingyu: i saw your ig story Kim Mingyu: knock it off baby

You smile, private and sardonic, because you aren’t helpless. Sometimes it’s your web, and it’s all Mingyu can do to keep his head above water. Another role you’d borrowed from someplace else but still have memorized. Still remember all the lines, the mannerisms.

On your story: a video of you, bare skin glittering beneath the golden-fluorescent light of your bathroom; you, with your dress unzipped, the straps slipping down your arms; your hand pressed to your chest to keep yourself covered. Your back turned to the camera, visible only in the mirror, as the silk dropped to the floor.

In the settings: only two accounts given permission to see, both belonging to the same person.

In your DMs: Mingyu, on his private account with the username that looks more like a keysmash than any legible thing, reacting with the fire emoji.

Related: the image hovering just above Mingyu’s texts. The one he’d repaid you with not long after seeing your story. A mirror selfie of his own: grey sweatpants hung low on his hips, a soaked-through white t-shirt stuck to his stomach, the lines of his abs visible.

That, and everything below it—all left unanswered.

The thing about Mingyu is he’ll give chase. Doesn’t shy away from all the things he wants; isn’t shy about giving voice to them.

But he’ll never, ever beg.

(Not like this, at least. When he’s in your bed it’s always a different story. He’s a kept man, there, and kept men have no qualms about things like that. Begging for your mouth, your pussy. Begging you to let him come.)

Normally you’d let it go. Let him talk to himself in your texts, because he’s got a lot of nerve if nothing else, but you’d gone out earlier. Grabbed a few drinks with your girlfriends, let the alcohol thrum through you like a livewire. Watched as they danced with men whose names they didn’t know and never learned and thought about what it’d be like to be able to do something like that in public.

Got home, felt a little scorned, just on the edge of bitter. Made a show of taking your dress off in the bathroom mirror and posted it someplace you knew he’d look.

You: did you like it?

Rhetorical. Mingyu may not want to put a label on this thing, might not want to be caged-in and suffocated, but you know what you do to him. All the ways you affect him.

i could tell you, comes the immediate reply, and your eyes are halfway rolled when—

Kim Mingyu: or i could show you

It takes a second to come through, but once it does your breath hitches in your throat. Far from the most obscene image he’s ever sent you, but just as effective. An expanse of tanned, soft skin, lean muscle; still in those same grey sweats, bunched up a little on the thigh as he lays in his plush hotel bed with his legs spread.

At the center of it all, the outline of his hard, thick cock, so fucking big as it stretches the fabric taut.

All you can do is stare.

Mingyu is not of this earth. This thought is nothing new: he has always existed outside the realm of possibility, in more ways than one, so this is merely a fact. Grass is green, the sky is blue, sometimes you can love someone in a way that’s so overwhelming and still be no good for them.

Another fact: it’s primal, the way you need him. Always has been.

You: what am i looking at? You: new sweatpants?

On the other end of the line, it’s easy to imagine his reaction. A quick snort of laughter, tongue pressed into the fat of his cheek before he clenches his jaw. If he were here, he’d haul you into his lap, kiss you deep and messy. Trail his fingers along your skin until they settled in the hollow of your throat.

Pull away just for a second. Just long enough to say, “Watch your mouth,” before he’s licking into it.

Kim Mingyu: don’t be like that 🙄

This time your eyes fully roll. Spitefully, you snap a picture of what’s in front of you: your bedroom wall, some drama playing on the TV, a sliver of amber light from the lamp next to you.

You send it.

You: while we’re sending pictures of irrelevant shit

Truth be told, you’re not like this often, but you get a streak of it every now and then. Only ever at times like this, when the two of you haven’t seen one another in a while and the distance between you is still so ambiguous, untitled.

Usually Mingyu will come by your place. Get you stripped down to almost nothing, have you writhing on his fingers. Then, in between satisfied groans, he’ll slap at your thighs, tell you to stop being a brat.

Kim Mingyu: then send me something worthwhile You: you first

Another beat of silence. Long enough to flick through the channels, plug in your phone, let some of that heat dissipate.

Your phone chimes, and when you look down—

Those grey sweats are long gone, replaced with a pair of black briefs barely containing his cock, still hard and curved toward his stomach. You swallow. Let your eyes linger on the corded muscle of his thighs, all that soft skin. Let your mind remind you, just for a second, how it feels beneath your fingertips, your hands, your mouth.

All the sounds he makes.

Kim Mingyu: is that better Kim Mingyu: is that what you wanted

Unbidden, the corners of your mouth lift. hm… close but no, you type out. Let it sit for a few seconds before you delete it. If Mingyu wants to be a tease, you can do the same.

You situate yourself against the pillows. Angle your phone so the length of your body is visible: your bare legs twisted in the sheets, the bruise Mingyu had sucked into the inside of your thigh before he left just barely making it into the frame. What’s fully visible, though: his shirt that’s draped over your frame, how much it engulfs you, the way you’re drowning in it. In him.

You send it.

You: depends... is this what you wanted?

The response is immediate:

Kim Mingyu: absolutely not. take it off baby.

You’ve starred in this production before, knew where it was headed the second you saw the missed calls, so you’d put on his favorite of your underwear. Skimpy red lace, part of a set he’d had sent to your apartment. Used to tell you in desperate whispers how ruined he was seeing you in them; used to have to rein himself in so he didn’t rip them off.

So you snap another photo. Spread your legs a little further, pull the hem of Mingyu’s shirt between your teeth. Know seeing that sliver of your stomach will drive him crazy, too, but it’ll pale in comparison to the underwear.

You consider video calling him. Want to see his face when you send this photo—the pinch of his brows, the slight drop of his jaw. The way he’ll whimper a little, say baby in that tone that floods you with heat: a little desperate, all hushed awe, bordering on a whine.

The same kind of heat that starts to creep back in again. There’s power in desire, in being desired, and even though you’re here and Mingyu’s in a hotel room in Japan, you can still feel it. Subconscious, like some kind of red string shit. Anticipatory.

Kim Mingyu: goddamn Kim Mingyu: you wear those for me? Kim Mingyu: fuck, i wish i was there to take them off of you

You suck in a breath. and if you were? you send back.

Kim Mingyu: you know that pair is my favorite Kim Mingyu: drives me crazy every time you wear that set Kim Mingyu: but i’ve changed my mind. i want you to keep them on Kim Mingyu: want you to keep my shirt on too You: yeah? you want me to wear your shirt while you fuck me? pull my panties to the side? Kim Mingyu: slow down baby, i’m taking my time with you

In your bed, you snort to yourself. Mingyu has never been patient with anything, but especially not with you. Most of the time he’s so keyed up, wound so tight, that it’s all the two of you can do to make it to your bed—and sometimes you don’t. Sometimes Mingyu puts all that body to use, presses your back to the wall and throws your legs over his shoulders as he eats you out. Wraps your legs around him as he fucks you right there, the slide so, so easy with how wet and messy he gets you.

You remind him of as much. Type out, you? taking your time? i’ve got a couple walls in my entryway that would say differently, and laugh when the reply comes through—can’t help myself sometimes—and promptly stop laughing at the next one: never can, with you.

Kim Mingyu: have i ever told you what i love the most? Kim Mingyu: just kissing you. you always taste so good, baby Kim Mingyu: the way you get so worked up and start grabbing at me when i’m doing it. the way you try to get me to touch you. the way you start grinding your pussy on me like you can’t go another second without me inside you

You feel like you’re on fire. Gets worse with every word you read and re-read, try to commit to memory. You know it all too well, what he’s talking about. Know how warm his skin is, how firm he feels under your touch. Know what he tastes like. How soft his lips are. The way he sounds when you start to writhe, the way he groans when he presses tighter against you, presses you into the mattress, hard cock rutting against you, enough to take the edge off but nowhere near what he needs.

You: love that too You: love when you’re inside me even more

Kim Mingyu: me too baby Kim Mingyu: love the way you feel around me Kim Mingyu: always so fucking tight Kim Mingyu: ffuck

Your stomach drops at his last message. are you touching yourself? you type, even though you already know the answer. Another sight you’re blessed to know: Mingyu’s hand wrapped around himself, how the size of his cock makes it look small in comparison. Head tilted back, abs flexing under the weight of the pleasure.

You get a singular character in reply: 응.

show me.

He doesn’t respond right away. The pause is enough to have anticipation thrumming through your veins, make you a little shaky. Your hand trembles as you trace patterns into your warm, soft skin, pretending it’s Mingyu’s touch and not your own. Pretend it’s Mingyu’s hand that grabs at your breast beneath his shirt, thumbs over your nipple; Mingyu’s touch that has soft gasps escaping you. Pretend it’s Mingyu’s hand that dips beneath the hem of your panties.

Kim Mingyu Attachment: 1 Movie

On the screen: Mingyu’s face greets you first, eyes half-lidded and hazy, the corners of his mouth lifted in a smirk. He tilts his head back, lets you see the sweat-slick skin of his neck, the column of his throat; pans the camera down over his collar bones, his bare chest, before he flips the screen. Can barely fit the entirety of his frame in the shot, and it strikes you someplace deep, how big he is. How overwhelming.

You suck in a breath as your eyes focus—as you take in the way he’s stroking himself. His cock glistens with whatever lube he’d indulged in, but you can’t help but pretend it’s from you and your mouth. Wish you could see the way he’d touch himself as you sucked him nearly to orgasm and told him to finish himself off. The way he’d whine, beg a little, get a little shitty with you.

“Fuck,” you say out loud. You can feel your pupils blow at the thought.

“Jagiya,” comes Mingyu’s voice, intertwined with the sounds of the tv, a city so far away from you, “fuck, I’m so fu-fucking hard.”

If you’d thought you were on fire before, it’s nothing compared to now. Hearing the need in his voice, watching the way he’s touching himself. The way his hips stutter as his body seeks out more, more, more, always more, and the way he squeezes the base of his cock so he doesn’t come too soon.

“Wish it was you. Wish it was you touching me like this. I—fuck, need you so bad.”

You watch as Mingyu strokes over the head of his cock, as each subsequent pass gets more tacky and wet. Lick your lips at the sight of it. Want, more than anything, to get your mouth on him and taste the salt of his skin, the precome he’s jerking himself off with.

Before he even needs to ask, you start recording a video of your own. Leave your panties on because you know he’d want you to. Record the first pass of your fingers through your slick, let out a disbelieving little laugh at how wet you are, how you can hear it. Moan as you dip a finger into your cunt, just to the first knuckle. Say, “I’m so wet, Gyu, oh my god,” all breathy.

Not all that different from how you sound when he’s here. When he’s flesh and blood and right beside you, on top of you.

You use the wetness you’ve gathered and move your hand to your clit. It’s throbbing beneath your touch, your body already wound too tight, and you nearly hiss in oversensitivity and relief when you finally touch yourself the way you’ve wanted to. “Fuck.”

You force yourself to take your time. Slow, small circles, when everything in your body is screaming to be selfish, begging for release the same way Mingyu’s had.

“Should I finger myself?” you ask. A sharp inhale as your next pass has your toes curling. “Wo-won’t feel as good as you, but I need—need more.”

Before you cut the video, you zoom in a little. Make sure Mingyu will be able to see the way you’re touching yourself, be able to hear the sound of your arousal, the same sounds that have warmth blooming in your cheeks.

Kim Mingyu: jesusf fuck Kim Mingyu: god baby youre so hto Kim Mingyu: wanna see you finger yourself Kim Mingyu: please

It’s a little embarrassing, how incapable you are of denying him anything. You trust him implicitly, love him even more, so it’s second nature to give in, to adjust your phone so you don’t have to hold it. Second nature to press record, pull your panties to the side just like you’d proposed earlier; second nature to make a show of sticking two fingers in your mouth, sucking on them, before bringing them to your entrance and easing them inside.

Nothing compared to the stretch of Mingyu, both his fingers and his cock, but it’s still good. Enough to have you sighing softly, barely audible over the sound of everything else: the rustling of your sheets, the low thrum of your own television, you in general.

A rhythmic song and dance. Practiced. You grow wetter with each push and pull; know Mingyu will be able to see it, the way you work yourself open. That, too, has you a little dizzy. Breathless. You wonder what he sees when he looks at you. Not only like this, but all the time. Does he see an expiration date? Something good while it lasted? Is there just this—something carnal and superficial?

Or does he just see you?

It drives you crazy. Inspires something within you: not just the desire to please him, make it worth his while, but to be something else, something more than this. Has your fingers moving a little faster, has you grinding your clit against the palm of your hand. Has you a whining, writhing mess; has sounds spilling out that you aren’t sure you’ve ever heard come out of you.

You send it before you can overthink it. Whatever Mingyu sees in you, at least these are the images that’ll play in his mind whenever he thinks of you. At least you’ve sunk your claws into him.

Seconds pass in a blur. You’re still on the brink of a mind-numbing orgasm, stuck in this liminal space simply because Mingyu isn’t here, and you know, too, how this goes. Know you aren’t supposed to come without his say-so in the same way he edges himself until he gets yours.

Kim Mingyu: shit shit shit Kim Mingyu: i wish that was me. wanna take you apart like that. wanna finger you while i eat you out, make you squirt all over me again Kim Mingyu: fuck i thin k about that all the time Kim Mingyu: im gonna cum

I think about that all the time.

So do you. You, on your hands and knees, Mingyu eating you out from behind. Bracing yourself against the headboard with one arm, the other one reaching behind you to pull at his hair. You remember how relentless he’d been that night. A man possessed. Disregarded all your breathless pleas, every Mingyu, Gyu, fuck, fuck, Mingyu, baby— that left your mouth. His tongue left your pussy only long enough to say, you can take it, baby before he was right back at it. Before he worked in two fingers alongside his mouth. Before his free hand came down hard on your ass, the sting startling you, making you jerk, forcing you closer to his mouth.

You remember coming with a scream. You remember coming to with Mingyu’s lips to your neck, the sweet way he was speaking to you. You remember the knee-jerk embarrassment you felt when you saw the giant wet spot you’d left on the bed and how quickly it dissipated when Mingyu pressed a kiss to your temple, called you his good girl.

You: you can come, but you know the rule

You move your fingers back to your clit, feel all that pleasure flood back, start in your toes. It’s not long before you’re pulling a blistering orgasm from your body—one that feels like it belongs to Mingyu, wasn’t yours for the taking.

thank you, he replies, right beneath a photo of his abs streaked with cum.

The comedown is jarring. You feel both too big for your body and completely out of sorts now that you’ve fulfilled your role. Now that there’s nothing to do but sit in the stillness of your bedroom, that same drama playing on television, some girl getting her heart broken.

You wonder if Mingyu’s thinking the same. If his body also sags with relief, if the absence of all that tension feels crushing. If the first thought he has in this newfound clarity is also I love you and if he also swallows it down every single time. You wonder if he thinks about his role, if it’s becoming stale and tired.

Because you know what comes next:

Kim Mingyu: i’ll be home soon Kim Mingyu: can i see you

And you also know what you’ll say. After all, you’ve played this role before.

if you've made it this far thank you so much for reading! this is prob not my best work since it's a lil rushed but i needed something to get me out of my slump.

i would love to hear your thoughts! <3

#mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x you #mingyu x y/n #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen smut #jewel writes

[inafever]

On how much Aziraphale has learned since season one:

This is about character development. Inside of a story, everything that happens, happens for a reason. It's meant to tell you something, to teach you or the character of your story, something.

So if the story continues and your character repeats the same mistakes again you know that they are bound to be doomed this time, and even worse the audience is going to certainly lose respect for them, cause they have made the same mistake twice, they haven't learned anything, they're gonna do it again another time, they don't deserve a happy ending. (yes I'm talking about good omens here) So you don't do that to a character that matters to you and you respect even the tiniest bit.

A Lot of us here are thinking that this is what has happened to Aziraphale's character at the end of season two, that he has done it again, repeated the same mistake again and has left Crowley to join heaven and it's been because of reasons like wanting to change Crowley (not true, see this post), still believing in heaven's goodness (not true at all), not being on the same page with Crowley (I'm gonna talk about this one especially in this post) and such likes. But these are the things he should've known better about after 6000 years and all the events that we've learnt about especially throughout season two. (It seems to be rather the whole point doesn't it?)

But we all seem to rather believe that he's made that mistake again nonetheless. so what we're doing here is trying to find reasons to justify the mistake and somehow make the reason behind the wrong actions something relatable to ourselves so we can forgive him when the time comes.

In fact I don't believe that he's made a mistake. for Aziraphale's character to be redeemable, what he has done, must be the only option that he's had for saving them both. I don't care what kind of situation could have resulted in him making this decision, but the only reason, the one and only reason, must be his love for Crowley. Otherwise it'll prove that he hasn't learnt his lessons or doesn't love Crowley enough to make a compromise, and in both cases, he's not worthy of love. He won't earn his happy ending by being tortured and feeling sorry and doing the apology dance for Crowley if he's hurt Crowley out of selfishness and stupidity again

But I'm sure he'll earn his happy ending and I'm sure he's learnt his lessons and it's too late for him to have unlearned them all in a matter of a few seconds. (He is an idiot but he's not stupid) and it's mostly because of this, that I believe the reason why he made that decision, must be very different from what it appears to be on the surface.

Anyway, this post is about what Aziraphale has learned and how he's changed.

I have made a post about their moments of conflict from both season one and two, it's here and you can look it up. This is where you begin to understand how Aziraphale has changed since season one because these are his dialogues after he's had a fight with Crowley in the bandstand, season one:

"even if I did know where the antichrist was I wouldn't tell you we're on opposite sides"

"friends? We're not friends. We are an angel and a demon. We have nothing whatsoever in common. I don't even like you"

"there is no our side Crowley. Not anymore. It's over"

And then there's season two, when they disagree on what to do with Gabriel, Aziraphale is the one to point out that they both rely on the life they've built together

He's asking him to help him take care of Gabriel together and in response Crowley leaves

In the final scene he asks Crowley to come back to heaven

"work with me" "We can be together as Angels, Doing good" "I need you."

He says anything he can think of literally to convince him to stay with him and it doesn't work

We start from "we're not friends" and arrive at "work with me. we can be together"

Even if we don't know the reason why he's insisting on taking Crowley back to heaven with him, this is an Angel that has picked up the pace. That wants them to be an us. No matter what.

But these are only a few dialogues. I think there's more than that. I think the show in five and a half episodes (out of six) has tried its hardest to make the point quite clear about how Aziraphale feels about Crowley (or how strongly he feels those emotions). all through the way he looks at him and through his gestures and soft touches from time to time

I'm gonna make another post of those moments separately and I'm gonna link it to this when I do.

update: (here's the post. not just average moments of Aziraphale looking cute, it's something about the way he looks at him)

And I'd like to even compare those wishful glances to some of those from season one, but I can't, cause they are nonexistent in there.

#remember season two is a test of faith guys #we're the job in this one #neil liked this #good omens #good omens 2 #gos2 spoilers #good omens spoilers #gos2 #good omens season 2 #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #gomens #gomens 2 #neil gaiman #good omens season 2 spoilers #good omens season two #good omens thoughts #good omens analysis #good omens meta #gos2 theory

[justporo]

Who's the goose... (2)

...that's on the loose? GOOSETARION! The adventures of Astarion being turned into a goose continue. Will he behave or annoy someone so much that his delicate goose neck will be in danger?

PART 1 | MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: So, here we are... with the second part to this unhinged little idea - I had a lot of fun writing this, although if I gotta write someone honking one more time... Well, I'd do it... This beautiful BEAUTIFUL artwork is once provided by the wonderful, beautiful and incredibly talented @azaani-art (you bless us, love! Thank you for allowing me to use this!). And also @the-littlest-raindrop - if you wanna read you'll know why I tagged you! Please all enjoy! I'm excited to hear what you all think!

Pairing: Goosetarion(Astarion)/GN!Tav (You)

Rating: Still stupid

Warnings: ankles in danger (you guys didn't think I'd be serious about this, right?)

Wordcount: 5k

~~~

The next morning the whole group sat around the giant wooden table in the main room of the inn. You were pretty sure you looked like you had slept in the gutter last night.

Beside you sat the goose, craning its neck at everyone at the table but for once pleasantly un-hoking. Even Goosetarion must have realised that honking the house down at this time of day would have probably gotten him his neck wrung faster than he could have jumped off the bench and waddled away. Or maybe it was lingering humiliation from when he had tried several times to jump up on the bench, fluttering his wings as if desperately trying to take flight. It had taken several more tries – and serious hissing from his side to bar you from just lifting him up onto the bench. And even when the goose had managed to get a high enough jump, it had face-planted onto the table nearly knocking itself out because it hadn’t anticipated the physics of the unfamiliarly long neck.

The others had to make a serious effort to not burst out laughing, but the violent threat in Goosetarion’s red eyes had shut them up quickly. Nobody really wanted to feel the goose’s wrath – or teeth for that matter.

Now you softly and absent-mindedly petted the animal with strokes from its head down to its back. Trying to make up for his hurting ego. The rump was very busy wiggling again.

You hadn’t slept awfully much last night as could have been expected. Of course, you had taken Goosetarion to your shared room. The staff at the inn had at first protested. But the fact that the others had quickly jumped in to declare the animal your “emotional support goose” and the fact that you really almost had started crying right then and there had been convincing enough to allow the goose in your room. Although you were of course given some serious side-eyes. But you couldn’t care less about people’s opinions at the moment.

You had sat down Astarion in your room, removed your armour and had sat down on the bed, sinking down against the headboard, face buried in your hands. Your feelings had still been very much on the verge of overflowing leaving you in a state of emptiness and tension all at the same time.

Only when you had heard some rumbling and strained croaks did you realise that you kind of had forgotten Goosetarion. But when you had opened your eyes, you already saw how the goose was hopping up on the bedframe and dragging itself up on the mattress with its wings, making what would have possibly been laborious groans normally. It wasn’t exactly graceful, but you were impressed, nonetheless.

Astarion wandered over to where you sat with drawn up legs and then jumped onto your lap without hesitation. Some struggle followed in which the two of you tried to get comfortable on the bed. Which resulted in you getting whacked in the face by Goosetarion’s splayed wings several times and him face-planting onto your chest about an equal amount of times while trying to move around, losing balance.

Finally, when you had all settled down, Goosetarion had been all cosied up on your lap and made a small honk while looking at you.

You had started stroking him again.

“I’m so sorry this happened, Astarion, but to be honest, you really had it coming.”

“Honk!?”

“Because you don’t just go around trying to steal from anyone who looks at you funny!”

“Honk!”

“Let’s just… hope this will all be over soon. I promise I’ll protect you and take care of you – no matter what.” You had embraced the goose, burying your face in its feathers for a moment and deeply wished that soon it would be your vampire again.

Goosetarion had carefully placed his small head on your shoulder and given a very soft little honk. The weight on your shoulder had been so light it had barely been noticeable at all.

And that is how you had slipped into your dreams sometime: Sitting up against the headboard, goose on your lap. Your head had fallen back in an awkward angle that probably hadn’t been healthy for your neck. And the goose had been mirroring you with its long neck and head fallen back on your shoulder. Surely a sleeping position no real goose had ever occupied.

But now you sat at the inn table having breakfast and talked with the others about what your plans for the day were. It was to be more walking and talking to people.

You were rather relieved because that meant that you wouldn’t have to think too much about how to take care of the goose. You’d just have him tag along and try your best to stop him from biting anyone’s ankles or getting his neck twisted.

The group set off once everyone had finished eating. You swung your legs over and got up. Astarion eagerly jumped down from the bench and honked at you demandingly, immediately earning a hush from Gale and a tchk from Lae’zel. The goose wasn’t bothered by it, just kept looking at you, now spreading its wings a little. He honked again. It was obvious he wanted to be carried and was very demanding about it.

“Is that your definition of asking nicely to be lifted up? Because if yes, you need to work on your attitude”, you scolded him while deep down you were surprised how the vampire so blatantly dared to hold on to his desire to be petty and sassy.

Another honk – challenging now. The goose glowered at you, for lack of a better description, and you glowered back.

Then you just walked off, following the others which had already left the inn. And you were swift. Leaving no choice to the goose but having to waddle behind you as fast as his rubbery feet would go or risk being left behind.

You gave in pretty quickly afterwards. And if only because Lae’zel was almost already losing her mind about how slow you were going to be with the goose walking beside you.

Goosetarion willingly and humbly let himself be lifted and carried around then without another complaint. Actually, you got the feeling he was getting a bit too used to that already.

“Enjoying the luxury of being carried around by your loved one, Astarion?”, Halsin asked the goose a while after you had left the inn and walked around the city. Goosetarion had stretched out his head and looked at his surroundings curiously and cautiously from his privileged position.

At the question the goose’s head – which was comically staying in place despite the walking movements – had swung around and the question had been answered with a short honk that you could only describe as sassy. Then Goosetarion had angled his head in a way that was way too much Astarion in nature than should have been possible. The druid laughed while you saw that Gale shook his head disapprovingly.

You squeezed the goose just a little: “Well, don’t get used to it, Astarion, this is a once in a lifetime occurrence.”

In reply you got a honk that sounded like a pout.

The first half of the day then was spent just like yesterday: tiresomely walking around, trying to strike up conversations with strangers to get some information without being too suspicious. Which was kind of a challenge when you were carrying around a goose that had to comment on almost everything despite no one fully knowing what it wanted to say.

Around noon you decided to take a break. You picked out what seemed to be a market place in full swing and settled down around the fountain in the middle. Each and every one of you had grabbed something from the market stalls to eat – pies, fruit, Karlach had even gone for a portion of spit roast.

At one of the stalls a huge-bellied man in a very grimy apron had way to keenly asked for how much you would sell the goose. Goosetarion’s head had yanked straight upwards, and he had immediately started to scream bloody murder (in goose) while you had turned him away in your arms – away from this shady looking merchant. Panic immediately had shot through you and your eyes had widened as you yanked the goose away and as far out of reach as possible.

“The goose is not for sale”, you had screamed hysterically in response.

“Unfortunate, how much good does it do if you’re only carrying it around? You all a bunch of leaf-eaters or what? This could be a nice dinner for my whole family!”, the man had yapped, obviously angry by your unwillingness to negotiate. You’d had your doubts about the family claim. Especially since you had seen the very suspicious looking dishes he seemingly had had to offer at his stall. They had all looked rank and the longer you’d stood there you’d also smelled their foulness. You hadn’t even dared to think about how old these must be.

“Istik, the bird is not for sale!”, Lae’zel had entered the conversation and drawn a dagger, taking a threatening step towards the huge man.

The other companions each all had taken up readied stances too – hands not too casually wandering to their weapons and stepping in front of you and Goosetarion in protection.

And thankfully, it had been left at that. The man lifting up his hands in defence as he had mumbled something incoherent and turned around again. Astarion had honked once more in victory (as if he had contributed to anything) and waved his head that would have normally swept his white curls back. As a goose it had just looked a bit delusional.

Now you sat on the cobblestone ground with Goosetarion on your lap. You had already gotten into a routine it seemed, it was awkwardly comforting. But somewhen when you were still nibbling on some apples and cheese, the goose wiggled off your lap. It seemed he was bored by just sitting around. Or maybe it was also that all of the group happily munching away had made him think of his own hunger that he was currently unable to satisfy.

He eyed the rim of the fountain suspiciously while everyone was busy chatting and eating. Only out of the corner of your eye did you see how he spread out his wings, his neck stretched out and started swinging – almost like a cat preparing to make a big leap somewhere.

Was he… was he trying to fly?

The goose made a leap, desperately flapped its wings and just for a tiny moment actually seemed to gain some air. But the moment passed as soon as it began and Goosetarion full on crashed into Lae’zel who had just gotten back from also buying a portion of spitroast. The githyanki had only just sat down when the goose fell onto her, almost causing her to drop her food.

Lae’zel immediately had her dagger out that - not so long ago- had been used to protect the same goose it was threatening now. The githyanki cussed out the animal that darted back to the safety of your lap much faster than you could have imagined. With desperate honking the goose jumped on your lap and tried to even climb up onto your shoulders. Lae’zel was still cursing and stepping closer, dagger in hand.

“Astarion! Lae’zel!”, you both called them out.

Goosetarion gave self-righteous honk while the fighter reluctantly sheathed her dagger again and went back to her lunch.

“And you are getting off my godsdamned shoulders, you silly goose, you’re too heavy!”, you added with some anger as Goosetarion was just about to figure out an even more privileged position. You shoved him off, causing him to croak in disappointment. And you made a point to ignore the annoying goose for some time after that, joining the conversation of the others – parenting measures.

So, Goosetarion got bored again with simply sitting around, waiting for you lot to get going again. He started to waddle around you and the other companions – as if he was deep in thought and tried to sort them out by wandering back and forth.

At one point a small child came by and interrupted him by pointing at him, loudly screaming “DUCKY” and then toddled away again. Goosetarion looked taken aback, honked in confusion and annoyance and then went back to his wandering.

Jaheira and you were discussing an action plan as to where to go next since you had the most knowledge of the city. Actually, Astarion would probably have had valuable input. But getting that input across was a bit difficult at the moment. He tried nonetheless.

The goose loudly honked when Jaheira proposed something and shook his head in a comical way then started to flail around his wings. The flailing and honking really did nothing though to get his point across. When Goosetarion noticed that you were all just staring at him in confusion he even looked like he was attempting to perform a face-palm. Then he gave up with another defeated honk.

The small child from before chose this particular moment when everyone was still staring at the goose to return. It was carrying quite a large piece of bread and from a few feet away hurled it at Goosetarion whose back was towards the child. “FOR DUCKY!”, it screamed while putting all its power into the throw.

Apparently at this young age the child was not yet very proficient with improvised throwing weapons because the throw went absolutely awry. Or rather, the child was in fact a prodigy because the piece of bread hit the goose squarely in the back of its head, making it squeak and lose balance.

The kid just laughed giddily and clapped its hands, hopping up and down. Obviously, it was expecting the “duck” to happily devour the generous offering of food now.

Goosetarion regained his balance quickly and turned around. He was dangerously silent.

You immediately felt the tension radiating from the small body, so you carefully got up. To be ready for whatever.

The goose stared down the child who was still jumping around cheerfully. But the longer “DUCKY” just stared at it, not moving, just with a lot of fury in its tiny red eyes, it realised that something was wrong. The kid calmed down until it looked downright frightened. You saw the child’s bottom lip starting to wobble, ready to start crying at any moment.

And then Goosetarion stormed towards the child, big wings spread wide, neck stretched out as far as possible and screaming as loud as his lungs allowed.

The kid started screaming as well and desperately tried to run away, almost stumbling over its own feet in the attempt to not get assaulted by the vicious goose.

You rushed after the murderous animal, trying to get to it before it could brutalise the child’s ankles. And thankfully Astarion was still not very adept to running around as a goose and you could easily catch up to him and grab him.

He desperately flapped his wings trying to free himself from your arms while still honking like mad. Your ears almost immediately started ringing. Incredible how much anger could fit into such a tiny body.

The child was already long gone and probably traumatised for life by this oversized duck trying to hunt it down. But Goosetarion was still livid even when you picked him up while holding him as far away from you as possible to avoid getting whacked by him again.

“Astarion, will you calm the fuck down?”, you yelled in between angry honking. You yourself were getting more than just annoyed by his behaviour – first he got himself into this pickle and now he caused even more chaos instead of sitting it out. There definitely was something to be said about the chaotic nature of geese and the vampire rogue fitting very well together.

The rest of the group had been watching the scene. Gale had his face buried in his hands. Most of the rest was at least silently snickering while Karlach was just very openly losing it again.

You sat the angry goose down on the stone rim of the fountain in an attempt to force him to calm down. “Time out, Astarion, godsdammit! Either you behave or I might be thinking about selling your poultry ass off, yet!”, you gave him the ultimatum and pointed a finger at him angrily.

He tried to snap at it. You could barely believe the audacity.

“For someone with so much neck to wrangle at the moment you should really be careful about who you piss off, Astarion”, Wyll said who was casually leaning against the fountain.

The goose stared at him. But Wyll just shrugged.

“Are we going to be nice now?”, you asked Goosetarion. The gaze of the red button eyes wandered back to you. The goose gave one more, curt honk, then settled down in a manner that made you think it would have crossed its wings over its chest in annoyed defeat had it been able to do so.

You stared at him angrily for a moment longer then went back to eating your scrawny lunch and talking with the others. You kept talking about different possible ideas on how to go forward. The goose meanwhile was brooding while sitting on the rim of the round fountain.

After a while, it seemed Goosetarion had enough of being well behaved and only listening while not being able to throw in his snide comments. He hopped off the fountain wall, specifically choosing Gale’s lap as a landing pad and making the wizard wince while the goose jumped off him and sauntered away.

He wandered around a little and honked dismissively when you told him to not to go too far. But for the moment you were already so fed up with him you really couldn’t care less.

The group finished up their lunch and decided on their plan. Then you all packed up your things and were ready to leave. And only then did you notice that the goose was nowhere to be found.

“Astarion?”, you asked and looked around. Some of the others had already started walking again.

“Was he not just wandering off towards some of the market stalls?”, Halsin asked. You simply nodded as you started looking around with rising panic.

“Yes, but I… I mean he wouldn’t have just left, right?”, you said as you ran from side to side and hoped to spot a feisty goose somewhere. You screamed his name again in hopes to get a honk in response. But nothing.

“You don’t think he would have wandered off just to spite us, right?”, you asked Halsin again. The druid in the meantime had shouted to the others to stop and come back.

“As much as I think that he likes to get on people’s nerves deliberately… I don’t think he would walk off and jeopardize his own safety – so no”, Shadowheart replied as she came back and caught on to what was happening.

“Well, then where could the little rascal have gone?”, Karlach asked in response.

A thought raced through your mind when she said that, and it hit you as you looked at Karlach.

“The suspicious merchant!”, you exclaimed and panic reached new heights within you.

“Let me just”, Gale started when he connected the dots and immediately started murmuring an incantation. Meanwhile the group had reassembled at the fountain and quickly was informed about what was happening. You stared at the wizard as he had gone silent and impatiently awaited the result of whatever it was he was doing.

The wizard’s eyes had lit up and he was focusing. Then his eyes flashed back to normal, his eyes found yours, worry flashing in them: “I feel him, he’s moving – quickly. And I’m pretty sure that is not goose speed.”

Your eyes widened when Gale confirmed your suspicion. You looked around at the others who mirrored your expression and without out a word you all readied to take on the pursuit.

“This way”, the wizard exclaimed with an outstretched arm, and you all started running.

You ran through the market and then through the streets of Baldur’s Gate, following whatever direction Gale gave you who was quickly out of breath but did his best to carry on.

You were already almost back at Wyrm’s Crossing – the houses a lot smaller and simpler here than the townhouses in the core city. And surely after a few minutes you could make out desperate honking somewhere in front of you. You closed in on the goose-napper!

When it seemed, you were only a corner away you already reached for your dagger – ready to do whatever it might take - but Wyll grabbed your hand. “Let’s be clever about this, let’s not risk that delicate goose neck being broken”, he said to you with a sympathetic glance. Reluctantly, you put back your dagger, at least for the time being.

You peeked around the corner and sure as all Nine Hells you saw the full-bellied man from earlier with a wiggling, struggling and screaming goose under his arms turn another corner. From there on out you followed the villain with some distance to avoid him noticing your little rescue party.

You followed him up to a little free-standing wooden house. It was old and shabby and made you further suspicious of him. What kind of shady business could someone possibly be up to in there?

You saw how he was putting some stuff down in front of the porch of the house, then went inside with the screaming animal still under his arm.

Again, you were ready to just go and immediately tear this house down. You were almost blind with your fear and worry for Astarion and with white-hot rage. But again, Wyll grabbed your arm and made a motion that conveyed that you should walk around the house.

Very impatiently you nodded, and you all snuck around the house which was barely a step up from a shack. From the inside you could actually hear the excessive honking of the goose now. Your heart almost broke and your body was tense with rash panic.

On the rear side of the house was a scruff garden fenced in by a rundown fence and a small wooden stump. It was almost an insult to even call it a garden; it was more of an abandoned plot.

It looked like the stump there was used for chopping wood. An axe was planted in the ground beside it. But there were also dark stains on it that could only make you horridly guess what else might be chopped there.

Wyll – taking over the role as tactician right then and there – made you wait while you were almost ready to scale a wall. At least by the excessive continued honking you still knew that Goosetarion was alive.

Wyll’s patience and insistence paid off because after mere minutes, the man came out of the house again, carrying the goose, some stuff in a basket hanging from his arm and of course – a ginormous cleaver.

Your heart dropped and the goose too now looked just very scared and helpless with how it hung from the goose-napper’s arm. Head hanging low, seemingly having given up all hope of being saved. You drew an arrow and readied at on your bow as Wyll waved the others to get in position.

The man slammed the cleaver into the wooden block and then with both hands placed down the goose on its back. The animal was barely even struggling anymore, just fearfully squeaking and noticing that almost broke your heart completely in these frightful moments.

The villain then ripped out the cleaver from the wooden stump and lifted it up high. You could see the sunlight glint on the shabby silver.

Wyll was still motioning everyone to hold but your strings snapped.

“GET AWAY FROM THE GOOSE!”, you screamed at full lung capacity while loosening the arrow from your bow string simultaneously.

The man hesitated and had only started to turn to you as the arrow struck him squarely in the shoulder holding the cleaver.

He immediately dropped the lifted knife with a guttural scream, letting it fall. It land on the wooden stump again – missing the goose’s head by mere inches. You only saw how the goose’s head dropped back with a small relieved honk, almost as if it had fainted shortly because of the shock.

Then absolute chaos broke out.

You all rushed towards the man who was screaming in pain and was already pulling at the arrow in his shoulder. Your eyes were solely on the goose but then Halsin, Karlach and most of the others overtook you and you lost sight of the animal as your friends stormed onto the man.

Coincidentally, some other shady looking folk came out of the back of the house, alarmed by the commotion. Your suspicions and gut feeling were confirmed then. You didn’t need to know anymore at this point, you had no mercy in your bones for them in this moment.

The thugs engaged your group in combat. In the meantime, you were desperately trying to spot the goose while your friends easily managed to keep the enemies in check.

Finally, you spotted Goosetarion! He had jumped off the wooden stump and seemingly had gotten into the basket the man had been carrying. And obviously the basket had contained some more knives because the goose was now firmly holding one in his beak. Astarion certainly had gotten out of his stupor and was now flailing his wings and threatened everyone with the blade he was carrying – everyone’s ankles were definitely in grave danger. Almost no difference from the usual rogue.

Your group easily fought off the thugs as you sneaked through the chaos of the battle towards the goose to grab and secure it. When the goose saw you, it hopped happily and dropped the knife to honk joyfully at you. You rushed over, kneeled down and wrapped him in your arms as he kept honking and jumping – obviously very relieved that you came to his rescue.

The fight was very quickly turning to your favour. But then as you kept holding onto the poor little animal you heard something else. You couldn’t quite discern it at first, but you heard loud screaming. And as you tried to peek through the legs of everyone around you, you saw some people in armour coming closer.

“City watch”, you whispered to yourself. Goosetarion’s head swung around as well and he gave another honk as he saw what you saw.

“CITY WATCH”, you yelled louder so everyone would hear.

That made almost everyone stall. You quickly got up and wildly gestured at your friends to just get going. So they did – and the fight turned into running from city guards way quicker than you thought it possible.

You didn’t even take one look back at the assailants and the goose-napper. You were just completely happy with running away with your goose soulmate safely in your arms. The adrenaline of the fight and the panic before almost awarding you wings. The only reason you took a look back was to make sure that all of your group were safely with you.

When you had brought what you thought was a safe distance between you and your pursuers, you just sank to the ground with Goosetarion wrapped securely in your arms. You nuzzled your face into his feathers and started crying.

The last day had literally been too much for you. You were in desperate need of a break and some strong alcohol. Someone put their hand on your shoulder as you cried into Astarion’s feathering. You softly slid down against the rough brick wall you were leaning against until you were laying on your back, completely dissolved in your tears. You were still burying your face when even through your closed eyelids you could see a purple flash of light and suddenly the weight laying on top of you was much heavier than before.

You opened your eyes and almost didn’t believe them when you saw Astarion – the real elven Astarion lay on top of you. Reflexively your arms and legs wrapped around the man to hold him as close as possible.

“Oh gods”, was the only thing you managed to mutter as more tears kept coming. The vampire in turn wrapped his arms around you as well. He was panting and coughing – surely a response of straining his voice with all the excessive honking. You rolled around in your forceful hug until you were laying on top of the former goose.

And then you just stayed like this for a long moment while your friends watched out for you and gave you two a moment of just holding each other. Making sure everything was fine and letting the realisation settle in.

You buried your face at Astarion’s shoulder and held him as tightly as your body allowed.

“Hello, my love”, Astarion whispered hoarsely to you as he started to softly caress your shoulders, arms and back.

You sobbed and lifted your head from his shoulder. You saw how he softly smiled at you and that his red eyes were dangerously wet as well as he kept holding onto you.

You didn’t know what to say nor did you trust your mind enough to form coherent sentences yet. You were just unbelievably happy that you had him back with you. So you just stared at the humanoid vampire again and didn’t let go of him.

“Honk?”, Astarion made in an attempt to stop you from crying by cracking a joke. You whacked his arm and pulled him in closer again. Then you whacked his arm again.

“If you’re ever going to honk at me again-“, you started making a threat.

“I’ll happily promise you not to”, Astarion immediately replied, pressed his forehead to yours and cupped your face with one of his hands – graciously reminding you that he was fully back with you again.

And then he pressed his lips to yours, confirming the promise he had just made to you.

Tag list:

Tumblr taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @bloopthebat @dark-star-exe @sleepydang @spooniefulofsugar @shadowserpent4444 @mei-simp @shiningneedlecastle@indestructeible @catching-fire-in-the-wind

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #tav #bg3 #goosetarion #neil newbon #halsin #bg3 companions #wyll #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #lae'zel #shadowheart #jaheira #karlach #gale #gale of waterdeep #goostarion

[f1byjessie]

HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.

love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.

( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )

━━ part five.

You’ve never actually been to Monaco. It was one of the few Grand Prix you’d had to miss. Logan’s retelling of how it was had been slightly skewed by disappointment and frustration at his less-than-stellar results that weekend, but his descriptions of everything had still painted a picture of lavishness and excitement in your mind, and you’d been dreaming ever since for the chance to experience it yourself.

You’re here now, and even just the view from the plane had lived up to the hype. On the ground, it’s enough to leave you breathless. The deep blue water of the Riviera glitters with the golden glow of the afternoon sun, the mountains stand tall off in the distance, and the grand opulence of the city makes you feel like you’ve stepped foot into a whole new world.

You’re not unfamiliar with the lifestyle of riches and luxury, but Monaco is on another level entirely.

Lando, the reason you’re here in the first place, appears beside you. On the ride back to his place from the airport, he’d caught you marveling at the marina and had pulled off onto the side of the road to let you get out and take a longer look. The boats look like miniature cruise ships, sleek and elegant where they rest in the water, swaying gently with waves. It reminds you, vaguely, of back home.

“Ready to go?” He asks, fiddling with his keys.

You spare the marina one last glance, then nod and turn on your foot with the knowledge that you’ll be here for a week longer still and will have plenty of time later to take in the view as much as you want.

Lando’s house, when you arrive, is just as expensive looking as the rest of Monte Carlo.

The exterior is expertly landscaped and maintained, with hedges perfectly trimmed and flowers flawlessly pruned. It’s slightly lacking in regards to the personality you imagined Lando having. His car is personalized and his wardrobe is a look into who he is, but the outside of his house looks… normal, for lack of a better term. It’s beautiful, nonetheless, but it’s simple all the same.

When he opens the door, you take it all back. The interior screams Lando Norris. It’s extravagant in a way that mirrors what you know of his personality, but it’s comfortable. You’ve been to homes that look more like show houses, where the furniture seemingly exists to be viewed but not used, and all the decorations are vague and impersonal enough to fill blank space and do little else. This is the opposite.

There’s a blanket folded haphazardly over the arm of the couch, and mismatched pillows. On the coffee table is a half-empty bottle of water, a book with a scrap piece of paper hanging out from the middle, and an opened pack of batteries. There are pictures on the walls in mismatched frames— friends and family and achievements from throughout Lando’s career that tell a story of his successes and proudest moments.

It looks like a real home. When you tell him, he laughs.

“With how little time I actually get to spend here, you’d think it’d be the opposite,” he comments.

He helps you bring your bags up to a guest room and then gives you a tour of the rest of the house. Letting you ask questions and answering them sincerely.

When you’re back in your room, unpacking your clothes, it occurs to you just how crazy all of this is. You know Lando, but you haven’t known him for very long. Your friendship has only developed over comments on social media, texts, and the occasional phone call over a few weeks. But you’re here, across the ocean in a country you’ve never been to before, spending a week in his house just because he asked you here and offered to help you with your love life dilemma.

Your life is beginning to feel more and more like a movie, and all you can do is hope it has a happy ending.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, and 31,871 others

yourusername a pretty girl with a pretty car in a pretty city

view all 3,832 comments

logansargeant think you might need to get your eyes checked bc all i see is a pretty car sooo

↳ yourusername you have six days. run. hide. i don’t care. but enjoy your time while it lasts

↳ logansargeant i’m telling mom

↳ yourusername she can’t save you now.

user STUNNING STUNNING AND STUNNING 😍😍😍

user all three things i don’t have

user WE NEVER GOT Y/N IN MONACO DURING THE SEASON BUT I AM LIVING FOR IT NOW

landonorris *prettiest

↳ yourusername you’re only saying that cuz it’s your car

↳ user yea we definitely missed smth cuz wTF IS THIS 👀

user lando up in here stealing oscar’s girl

user OSCAR COME GET YOUR GIRL

user is she in monaco??? with lando??? 👀👀

user mclaren boys fighting over the same chick was not on my bingo card

user i need these men to make up their damn minds like bffr first oscar and now lando??? bros get it together pls 😮‍💨😮‍💨

user i think we should stop speculating about the relationships between real ppl bc they’re adults and can do what they want, plus they could just be friends and ppl saying they’re together could make things awkward for them

↳ user nah they’re totally together

“The comments are going crazy,” you tell Lando, staring down at your phone and scrolling the long chain of comments beneath your most recent post.

Some are supportive— people who knew you before your brother got involved with Formula 1 and don’t care about the drama, or they’re other models you’ve become tentative acquaintances with after years of working in the industry. Some are speculative, wanting to know if you’re with Lando, what happened between you and Oscar, theorizing about fights, messy breakups, and revenge rebounds. Some, however, are just mean, calling you a slut for leading on two guys at the same time, or a bitch for ruining their imaginary chances with their favorite driver.

You wouldn’t claim that you’re used to this type of negative attention, but you’re not unused to it either. So much of your job requires a social media presence and with your life in the limelight as a byproduct of both Logan and Dalton’s own very successful careers, you’re no stranger to internet trolls and people who are vicious just because they can be.

That doesn’t make some of the comments hurt any less.

“None of them matter,” Lando answers from beside you, his eyes focused on the road. “It’s just people who don’t know what they’re talking about.” He recites it like it’s something he’s had to say hundreds of times before, and it occurs to you that he probably has, to himself if not anyone else in his line of work.

You’re sat once again in the passenger seat of his car as he drives you back to his place. The streets of Monte Carlo at night are dazzling and even more beautiful than in the day with twinkling lights and a raging nightlife scene, but you’re distracted still by your phone, checking and rechecking to see if there’s any hint of Oscar in your notifications.

There isn’t.

It feels like a dismal ending to what had truly been such a lovely night.

You’re in a gorgeous dress, in a gorgeous car, in a gorgeous city, with a man who’s fun and relaxing to be around, who doesn’t make you feel like a side piece or arm candy, and who is genuinely a friend to you. You went to an amazing restaurant and ate some of the best food in your life with some of the best company, got slightly tipsy off of wine you didn’t have to pretend to enjoy for once, and it’s only the beginning of your time here in Monaco.

But rather than enjoy what you have here in the present, all you can think about is the one thing that would make it that much better— Oscar.

“Maybe I should just give up,” you mutter, finally turning your eyes away from the screen. “He probably kissed me, realized he wasn’t interested, and the reason he hasn’t brought it up is because it was all just a big mistake that he wants to forget.”

Lando makes a sound that you’re not quite sober enough to place. “I think the only way you could know that is if you talked to him.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrug, “that’s not likely to happen any time soon.”

He makes another sound, but you’re too disappointed to really pay it much mind, and by the time he’s pulling into the garage you’ve forgotten all about it.

He helps you out, ever the gentleman as you’ve learned tonight, and then you’re following him to the door, trying not to let your bad mood ruin things too much. You’re still incredibly grateful and appreciative to him for helping you so much despite not having known you very well when it all began.

“Seriously, though, Lando.” You speak up suddenly, just as he’s about to open the door. “Thank you for doing all this for me. Even if nothing comes of it, I’ve already had a lot of fun and you’re a good friend.”

All he does is offer you a smile over his shoulder, before pushing the door open.

When you step in through the doorway after him, you’re momentarily confused by the luggage waiting in the entryway. For a split second, you think you must have left some of yours down here, but then you look a bit closer and realize that it definitely isn’t yours.

There's movement from your peripherals as someone in the living room stands from the couch and crosses the distance to the entryway's threshold.

“You’re back earlier than I thought, Lando—” you snap your head up in surprise just as the voice cuts off.

You stare at him in shock. “Oscar…”

━━ tags: @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis @405rry @aquangxl @bellezaycafe @peqch-pie @formulaal

━━ a/n: tada! i have the rest of this fic entirely planned out from here and i am so excited to get to the juicy parts finally! hope you all enjoy!

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #social media au #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #logan sargeant #alex albon #lando norris

[babushkatty]

Tranquil SAGAU - Part 6

-> Part 1

-> Part 5

With Dvalin gone, you were left basically homeless. Not that it was much of an issue, not really. The forests had been very kind to you -- you could easily live the life of a hermit if you so wished, without having to worry about food, water, shelter or animal attacks.

But it would also be horribly lonely. No compassionate silence, no background noise and buzz of other people scurrying around and going about their day without minding you, no one to speak to if you ever felt the need to.

You liked being alone, but you were still human and humans were social animals.

Soooooo, you promptly asked Crepus about working in his Winery in exchange for accommodations, because 'one that asks, does not stray'... or something like that anyways. Your sister always made her life that much harder because she outright refused to ask for help even when hopelessly lost or overwhelmed, so there must be something to the saying at least.

"You don't have to work to earn your keep, (Name). I'd be more than happy to house you as my guest for however long you want!" is what Crepus 'Sunshine Personified' Ragnvindr responded with.

Crepus used Puppy Eyes, it was super effective!

You laid defeated, a puddle of cuteness overload once again wishing for sunglasses to protect yourself from the blinding smiles and imaginary wagging tails.

Crepus was horrible for your heart.

Still, you would go insane if left with nothing to do for days at a time, so you went to turn the Ragnvindr library upside down with Crepus' blessing, a bunch of notebooks, a bunch of pens and a delusion that you'd do any actual studying in there.

This was Teyvat, but this wasn't Genshin Impact -- a library wouldn't have interesting lore, it'd have dry history and even drier geography, accompanied by boring economics and even more boring politics (which was a damn shame too, politics were so interesting when written right).

You never quite had a head for those, prefering subjects with more practical applications that could be practiced instead of having to be beaten into your thick skull until you memorized it just long enough to write the exam.

Though for some ungodly reason you still remembered that onions were actually leaves. It was one of the very few things you remembered from school, actually.

Probably the trauma speaking.

Still, you did find some interesting books - a diary speaking of the Decarabian rule, for example.

Today, I don my very own Windblume.

I can only hope Lord Decarabian never learns of its' significance.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

The winds are particularly harsh today.

I am afraid, but I smile and play my lyre as if nothing were happening at all, like I always do.

Sometimes, I forget if what I do is to reasure the people or to delude myself that everything is as it should be...

Then again, does it matter when the result remains the same?

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

The people are growing restless.

Their yearning for freedom gave birth to a small wind spirit that seems fond of my playing. It is an adorable being, even if it has yet to communicate with us.

It remind me of a newborn puppy.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

The people are planning a rebellion.

I want to help, but how can I? I am no soldier, my strength lays with the pen and the lyre, not with the sword.

Ragnvindr told me there was no need for more warriors, that I was doing enough by keeping the morale up with my performances... I am hesistant to believe him.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

The little spirit has spoken for the first time today.

It said that it knew the song I was playing, despite it being a new piece I was in the midst of creating, and sang along to lyrics I had yet to write.

It was strange, but it made me happy nonetheless.

Perhaps I was strange too, for feeling that way.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

You had a suspicion on who the author of the diary was by that point. Maybe Crepus would be open to giving this diary to Venti, instead of it gathering dust on the shelf?

Idly, you wondered how it had survived so long, but figured Ragnvindr and his descendants took good care of it.

I met Ragnvindr today.

Something compelled me to share my worries with him, even though I knew he had enough weight on his shoulders and I ought not to add more.

"If you cannot trust in yourself, then trust in me and my trust in you instead" he told me.

It helped.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

Meetings regarding the rebellion are more and more frequent. Ragnvindr, alongside a man named Amos, have convinced the Gunnhildr clan to participate against all odds.

I can understand their hesitance. Should we fail to kill Lord Decarabian, their legacy would be no more.

I admire their bravery.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

The wind has long since realized change is imminent, even when Lord Decarabian himself has not - the little spirit said so.

King of Gales indeed, even the wind has rebelled against him.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

Ragnvindr speaks of a bad premonition.

In truth, my heart is uneasy as well, but how can I share those feelings with anyone but myself? It is not the time to bother others with my issues -- it is time to reassure everyone, to rouse their spirit and not to let fear take root even as they stand against a God. It is my duty as a bard and as a fellow rebel.

The Windblume feels particularly heavy as I write this.

I fear I will not live to see tomorrow's sunset, but I fear for my dearest friends and for Mondstadt even more.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

My little spirit friend is still without a name.

I know it does not bother them, they are the wind itself after all, but I would still like to give them a name others can remember them by.

A name that they can remember me by once I pass on, selfish as it is to bind an immortal to a memory.

But I am selfish, even if Ragnvindr may see me as a paragon of virtue. I am a human and to be human is to be flawed. I am not ashamed of it, even if I often feel guilty for it.

Perhaps it will be the very last thing I achieve in this life of mine.

It is hard to name them.

I've thought of many names up until now.

Caelus. Liberius. Aella. Calliope. Achill. Carmine. Hilarius. Hanne. Zephyrinus. Dieter. Sascha. Scilla. Paulus. Notus. Veronica. Agna. Vergil.

Those are just a few of the ones I discarded.

None fit.

I can only hope the right name reveals itself when it is time.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

That was the last entry.

You closed the diary and carefully put it aside.

☆(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ* ✨ Author Note✨

It was not supposed to be mostly nameless bard POV via old diary.

It really wasn't.

Mans literally kidnapped the chapter entirely against my will while I was half asleep yesterday and attempting to write at nearly midnight and I was powerless to stop it, on god.

But hey, at least we got potential Venti bonding set up for the future?

I was planning for more fluff, but I also have no outline for this, so my chapters have a chance of getting kidnapped at any time.

✨BY THE WAY!!!!✨

The charm of spontaneous writing, I guess?

If you have something you want to happen - for example we're in the library right now, so maybe you want a book about a specific tidbit to appear - do let me know, maybe I'll write it in!

I had 2 tests and 1 retake yesterday and holy shit i got through all of them and tomorrow is last day of uni then it's ✨HOLIDAYS✨

✨Taglist✨

@game-savvy @chaoticfivesworld @mmeatt @avalordream @ymechi @andromeda-gay @naynayaa @undecidingfate @thedevioussmirk @tumb3ld0wn @balaur-bondoc @yi-chii @yarabutterfly @nervouseaglelover @vexingpraedyth @indelible-colouring-markers @whitefantasy21-blog @kapitankarate

#genshin sagau #sagau x reader #sagau #genshin impact #x reader #genshin x reader #isekai #x gender neutral reader #x gn reader #x gn y/n #self aware genshin

[eleganttiredcroissant]

How Logan Roy fucking up his children in different ways showed in their respective eulogies:

Roman: breaks down immediately because he's always been verbally abused by Logan and as a result he's incapable of communicating effectively (and have meaningful relationships with basically anybody).

Kendall: the exact opposite of Roman. He's a perfect public speaker because he's always been brought forth by his father on a higher pedestal than his siblings ("you're my number one boy") and here he's showing all the sociopathy he inherited from his father because everything he can say about him in his eulogy (his "other side of things") is how much of a great financial genius he was, how he built his empire from nothing. What also seals the deal is his delivery of "He was a brute. [...] I hope I have it too".

Shiv: victim and perpetrator of a familial misogyny that permeates the Roys. (When she says "Logan couldn't fit a whole woman in his head" the camera is stuck on Kendall who is beginning to show the same treatment on his ex wife and daughter.) Nonetheless Shiv still waited all her life for those crumbs of fatherly love and "warmth" she would sparingly get.

Bonus: Connor doesn't speak publicly at all because he never really existed in his father's mind as a worthy offspring

#succession #roman roy #kendall roy #shiv roy #connor roy #logan roy #succession spoilers

[amerricanartwork]

What the...?

Is that another little creature? Where are they even coming from??

Oh, this one looks a little shy... but the other three seem excited to have some new company!

Awwww, they're just too cute to resist! Welcome to the club, little guy!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Even though they're not technically canon, I thought I'd finish up needle felting the base-game slugcats with a little Nightcat!

Visually, they're pretty much the same as Survivor, just inverted colors. Although they were noticeably more difficult to make. Trying to cover up all the white core wool with black was a lot more difficult than I expected; everytime I tried to felt one area in place, it'd shift the wool to reveal a patch of white somewhere else! Still, I persevered, and I quite like the result!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

And with that, the base-game needle felted slugcats are done! It was SO fun making these little guys, and they look so cute all together!

But don't worry, I'm FAR from done with Rain World needle felting! I'm only 27% done after all; there are still so many cute characters I've just gotta make!

Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy these four little cuties so far! And be sure to stay tuned for Rain Wool: Downpour!

#art #artwork #artists on tumblr #traditional #traditional art #felting #needle felting #fiber art #fanart #rain world #slugcat #rw slugcat #survivor #rw survivor #monk #rw monk #hunter #rw hunter #nightcat #rw nightcat #quetzalli needle felts #project: rain wool

[bones4thecats]

Adopting Their Fallen Enemy's Child (PT.2) ~ RoR/SnV x Child! Reader

Type of Writing: Poll Result Characters: Beelzebub, Apollo, & Child! Reader Name: Adopting Their Fallen Enemy's Child (PT.2) Original Poll Results: Here Other Parts: (PT.1)

A/N: Because of how long the poll result was, I decided to make this into two different parts! I hope you guys enjoy this and have a nice day/night!

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🪰 He saw Tesla as weak and pathetic, but even he had to admit, the way he held himself in battle with his wits was quite impressive for a human, but he did not wish to show any kind of compassion towards the human, he still lost

🪰 And when he heard the sound of a child crying and hugging a piece of metal, he turned around and saw a young child wearing the same pair of goggles that the human he had just defeat wore

🪰 Beelzebub tilted his head as you cried while your father kneeled and hugged you as he crumbled away into nothing, and what he said to you reminded him of Lilith…

“ I will always be with you, in life and death… I love you, my little ray of hope… ��

🪰 The God of Darkness could hear your cries of pain and depression, and it made his heart hurt so much, but he couldn’t tell why… why did he feel… bad for you?

🪰 You looked over your shoulder at him and flinched as he took steps towards you, but the Watchman of the Apocalypse could sense how he was about to kill you, so he stood in front of you and held you on his shoulder while beckoning the oldest Valkyrie to grab you from the field

🪰 He would watch you sit by the feet of the Valkyrie, looking up at the Gods once and while whenever they landed a hit on your human fighter, but the one God you looked at the most of Beelzebub, if he was even there

🪰 Beelzebub eventually heard a knock on his door and saw the eleventh Valkyrie sister, Hlökk, staring at him before saying how you wished to speak to him

🪰 He tilted his head in confusion while looking down at you, you shared the same shimmer in your eyes that your father had, and it surprised him that you wanted to talk to him, you saw how he killed your father, why didn’t you hate him?

🪰 When he spoke to you about your father with the oldest Valkyrie and the Buddha in the next room, he watched how you admired his work, and even corrected a few things, that was when he knew…

🪰 He didn’t want to leave you alone in this world without any family, so, he offered the Human’s the ultimate choice

“ Brunhilde, I would like to propose a deal. I will take care of the young Tesla child and teach them everything their father would’ve while alive. I swear to keep them protected from anything dangerous. “

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

☀️ He had to admit, your father was quite the fighter, he was an honorable man, and when he turned around to hear the cheers from his nymphs, what he didn’t expect was the quiet words of Leonidas, the King of Sparta, speaking

☀️ Apollo turned around and saw a young child standing in front of the man, holding a spear, one that was made for their small form, and seeing the King just smile and hug the child before speaking his final goodbyes and bursting into the shards of his life, it just made the God look at the child with sadness

☀️ The God of the Sun looked at you with apparent regret in his eyes, he never knew that the battle-driven man he fought had a child, nonetheless one that couldn’t even had been a full-grown teenager

☀️ You smiled as your father gave you one last kiss on the head and loving grin, and seeing you hug the man’s shattered leg made Apollo look at you with pity, and when the Valkyrie and human faded away to the sky, he walked up behind you and tapped your shoulder, alerting you the man who killed your father was there

☀️ His eyebrows furrowed and he sat down on his knees to stare into your eyes, smiling as you touched his face, trying to wipe away any blood from the wound

☀️ Despite him killing your father right in front of you, you still showed care for him, and when he asked you why you were trying to fix his appearance up, you answered with a polite;

“ My father told me it was a fair fight. And in fair fights, you need to treat the winner not like garbage, but like a treasure. You won fair and square, and while I feel sad of losing my father, I will not hold a grudge against you, God of the Sun. “

☀️ Apollo smiled and patted your head before standing and lifting you up into his arms to carry you back to the Gods’ infirmary, and once you came into the hallway of the arena, you looked at him and kept trying to whip the blood on his face away, claiming it would ruin his reputation if it stayed there and stained

☀️ While he healed, you stayed by his side, trying to make him tell you more stories of the battles he watched your father participate in, and because of how much time you two spent together, Apollo couldn’t help but start seeing you as his own

☀️ One day, he eventually asked a question that would make your life whole again;

“ Y/N, child of Leonidas and heir of Sparta, you are unlike any other child I’ve ever seen in my life. I would be greatly honored if you would do me the pleasure of becoming my child. I understand I will not fully replace your father, and I am alright with that, but you being alone is something I cannot stand. So, what do you say, youngling? “

#Record of Ragnarok #RoR #Shuumatsu no Valkyrie #SnV #RoR Abrahamic Pantheon #RoR Greek Pantheon #Record of Ragnarok Gods #RoR Gods #Record of Ragnarok x Reader #RoR x Reader #Shuumatsu no Valkyrie x Reader #SnV x Reader #RoR Abrahamic Pantheon x Reader #RoR Greek Pantheon x Reader #RoR Gods x Reader #Record of Ragnarok Gods x Reader #Child! Reader #GN! Reader #Human! Reader #RoR Beelzebub #RoR Beelzebub x Reader #RoR Apollo #RoR Apollo x Reader

[roseykat]

https://www.tumblr.com/roseykat/737270057334341632/can-you-make-a-reaction-where-the-reader-is-needy

You know what would be funny about this? That after they're done with the business and come back to her, all horny and ready for action, now she's the one that's busy or not in the mood anymore. Maybe she took care of herself already.

I'd like to see how they react when the positions are reversed and they're forced to wait instead (or deal with it themselves instead)

Ohohoooo Lyra thank you for this opportunity. I had to go all out.

Here is the context to these reactions prior to this post if anyone is wondering lol

TAGS: smut as per, female masturbation, swearing, begging, teasing, mentions of sex toys and restraints, orgasms, nudes/explicit videos.

A/N: I just realised Hyunjin's one is a bit more softer lmao

BANG CHAN

With Chan, he said for you to give him twenty minutes to finish his work, and within that span of time, you’re no longer preoccupied with being so pent up and horny for him. Instead, you’ve grown tired given how late at night it is, resulting in you falling asleep on the couch.

Chan on the other hand managed to work his way through to the prospect that you’re both going to fuck, thinking about it in the back of his mind while he works that it turns him on. He’s never fucked you in his studio - yet. Thought about it however? Multiple times.

He’s always envisioned him fucking you over his desk, having you ride him on his chair, even the couch you lie on is where he'd fuck you too. The both of you would be able to make as much noise as possible with the room being soundproof. Therefore, Chan was hoping there would be a day for it to come only for him to turn around and see you dozing away peacefully.

“Baby,” Chan calls out to you softly, shaking your arm gently.

You open one eye to see that he’s finally finished but wondered briefly if it had actually been twenty minutes or two hours that went by, “done?”

“Yes, just like I promised,” he says.

“Okay,” you stretch and sit up. “Let’s go home.”

Chan stares at you blankly, “but I thought - didn’t you say-“

“I did, twenty minutes ago,” you cut him off. “But, now I’m tired.”

He doesn’t understand, “you don’t want to do it here?”

“Not at the moment, no,” you say to him. “Don’t wanna get caught either.”

You pick up your bag from the side of the couch leaving Chan still remaining in his seat. He looked devastated and surprised at the same time at your response but was nonetheless respectful of your decision. His dream of fucking you in his studio, for the time being was now put on hold.

MINHO

Minho comes back home, almost with a skip in his step knowing that he’s about to get laid. It’s been a while since he fucked you last. But that’s his fault for neglecting that aspect - neglecting you more importantly, above anything else.

As he arrives home, he sets his keys on the hook by the door and takes his shoes off before searching for you throughout the apartment. Minho spots you in the bathroom, bathrobe on, hair bundled up on top of your head with a towel, and a face mask on.

He knows that once you’ve done your skincare, there’s no chance of him fucking you tonight. It means that you’re only prepped and all ready to go to bed, not ready for anything physical.

“I thought you were horny?” Minho asks, visibly confused.

“I was…but now I’m not, and I want to go to bed.”

“W-What about me?” He almost panics.

You chortle, making your way out of the bathroom, past him, and onto the edge of the bed, “what about you?”

“Well I need you too you know.”

“Maybe wait until tomorrow. Plus, I’m spent,” you respond. “All those toys you bought me really did do the trick. I came so many times without you.”

Minho pretends not to be pissed, but he most certainly is, “I’m glad to hear that they have some use then.”

“What do you mean ‘some’ use? I use them quite often thank you very much” you tell him in a rather indignant tone of voice.

“Why use them when you have me?” He retorts, taking offence to that information.

“Toys are more convenient,” you reply just to rub salt into his wound. “I can use them whenever and wherever. Can’t use you when you’re one - never here, and two - don’t make me cum as hard.”

Minho knows you didn’t mean that. You had to be fucking with him. Either way, just hearing you say that makes his blood start to boil.

“I’ll fuck that attitude right out you,” he glares down his nose at you.

You test him even further, “if that’s what you wanna do then you’re just going to have to wait until tomorrow, just like I said.”

CHANGBIN

It hadn't been long since Changbin left for the gym. As much as you wanted him to stay behind and spend some time in the bedroom, you knew you should let him do what he wants. But since that hour and a half that flew by with his personal trainer, you had found yourself busying all around the house.

You had some breakfast, cleaned up in the kitchen, lounge, bedroom, and even tackled the bathroom, all before Changbin came back home. You felt satisfied and accomplished that you were able to do so much in such a timeframe.

Changbin also felt accomplished, but for completely different reasons. He's always guaranteed to feel good after a hard gym session. So much that adrenaline pumps through his veins half an hour after, especially when he’s hitting his PB’s. He doesn’t know what to do with himself other than what he thinks he knows best…

“Whatcha making?” He asks once he's back home, leaning against the counter as he watches you chop up a whole bunch of fruit.

“A lot of fruit salad because I knew you'd be hungry after the gym,” you answer. “Plus I wanted some too.”

“Yum,” Changbin says, dawdling a few steps to stand right behind you. "But I'm not hungry for fruit."

His hands gently hold your hips, pressing you flush against his. He's not always bold like this when it comes to admitting that he's turned on. Changbin will state that he is sometimes, but doesn't always act on it. Usually it's you that needs him. Always jumping on him the minute you feel the slightest bit horny.

"I can make you something else if you want?" You suggest, deciding in the moment that you're going to make this hell for him.

“I want you,” he whispers against the back of your neck.

“Not sure if we have that in the fridge.”

Changbin chuckles, "funny. Whatever happened to you wanting me to stay longer this morning?"

"Not too sure what you're talking about," you say cluelessly.

"I'm one hundred percent sure you wanted me to dick you down before I left for the gym," Changbin guesses very rightly.

"Is that what you thought?”

“That’s exactly what I thought.”

“That’s a shame,” you sigh with regret. “Maybe if you were here earlier, you might’ve gotten what you actually wanted. So for the meantime you’ll just have to settle for a bowl of fruit.”

You finish chopping up the fruit, then place all of the different pieces into a bowl and turn around on the spot to hand it to him. Grabbing your own bowl too, you head over to the table to sit down leaving Changbin in the kitchen, turned on and befuddled.

HYUNJIN

Fifteen minutes was all Hyunjin gave you after wanting some time to finish off his artwork before heading to the bedroom with you. He had spent practically all day fixated on his hobby while you were at work and came home visibly flustered - needing him so badly.

Unfortunately for you, fifteen minutes takes up too much of your night to wait. It was then that you decided to take matters into your own hands and get yourself off instead. All you needed was your vibrator and a homemade sex tape you and Hyunjin filmed on your phone from over a month ago for you to cum in minutes.

That’s all you needed just one orgasm to settle yourself down. To drain all the stress from your body. Although, it was a bit hard to stop after one when you had made it to three. After that, you were just about ready to head to bed.

At that point, Hyunjin finished off the area of the piece he was working on and departed with it for the time being. As he was cleaning up, the sound of running water from the bathroom catches his attention.

"Baby?" Hyunjin knocks on the door.

"Mm? You can come in, I'm just in the bath," you say to him.

He opens the door and walks in to see that you were fully relaxing in a nice hot bubble bath. There was a scented candle lit on the counter, creating a dim setting and a beautiful aroma that filled the room.

"I thought you were waiting for me on the bed," he says, pulling up one of the chair stools from the corner of the bathroom to the side of the tub.

"I was," you say to him. "But I got impatient so I dealt with it myself."

Hyunjin was annoyed to hear that. Not annoyed at you, but himself, "I'm sorry I made you wait. Over a stupid painting of all things-"

"It's fine Hyunnie," you quickly tell him, hoping that he won't feel guilty about it.

"You're not still in the mood are you?" He tries his luck.

"Sorry baby," you respond regretfully. "I'm just so tired."

He thought as much, but Hyunjin isn't mad. He'd never get angry or upset with you for not doing something you don't feel like doing. He is however, happy that you don't feel pressured into fulfilling his needs too.

"That's okay love, I'll cook us some dinner yeah?"

JISUNG

Ever since Jisung saw the state you were in since they finished the show, he couldn’t sit still throughout the interview that took place prior. All he could think about was how many different ways he was going to fuck you when he goes back to the hotel room.

He wants to have you ride him in the bathtub - watching your tits bounce in his face and for him to suck. He wants to fuck you against the wall of the shower, or fuck you against the windows for everyone to see. To fuck you on the desk, on the bed, even the floor.

Thinking about it all, Jisung had fully worked himself up that he swore he was semi-hard during the interview. If you hadn’t of headed back to the hotel, Jisung would’ve found you, taken you into a dressing room, and fucked you raw there.

But no. He had to deal with a painful hard on that he was trying to conceal from everyone on the ride from the venue to the hotel. Once he had made it up to the room in a frantic rush, he closes and locks the door behind him and spots you on your phone, sitting on the bed.

“Please, please, please, please I need you so bad,” he says, nearly gasping for air as he speaks.

Jisung paces over to you and kneels on the floor before the edge of the bed as his head rests between your legs, nuzzling into the inside of your knee. His hands glide up your the sides of your legs, right up the waistband of your pyjama shorts. He was waiting for you to give him the green light to tear them down and eat you out like he’s been deprived of it.

His sudden appearance took you by surprise at first, but after seeing that state he was in, it was like low hanging fruit - an opportunity too good to pass up.

“But you left me Sungie,” you say mournfully. “I had to get off all by myself.”

“I know. I’m sorry, I did say it was only going to take an hour, but it wasn’t my fault because the interview took longer than it should’ve. They kept asking-“

As he babbles away his excuse, almost like he’s about to cry, you can’t help but laugh silently in the back of your mind at how quick Jisung can just flip like a switch. Before he was smug and cocky about leaving you flustered when you needed him. Now he’s on his knees, literally begging for your body.

You use your foot to palm over the hard tent in his pants, forcing him to stifle whimpers, “you’ll be lucky if you even get to cum in your pants Han Jisung."

FELIX

Felix had spent the last half an hour listening to you whine, moan, cry, even scream in the background as he was gaming. Prior to this, he had you lie at the end of his bed, bound pathetically, and tortured with a vibrator that he carefully mounted over your clit. After leaving you like that, his instructions were clear - don’t cum.

As if you were going to listen to him.

Felix had no idea that you came. Multiple times in fact. You managed to pass off your orgasms as frustrated moans without him noticing. Felix should’ve realised after he finished gaming when he turned around and saw the wet mess you involuntarily made on his bed. He didn’t care though, Felix just wanted to fuck you, and was ready for it too.

“Good girl,” he praises, turning the vibrator off and removing it, thin strings of cum still sticking to the toy as it’s being moved.

He could’ve fucked you like this; bound and helpless, but the biggest mistake he made was releasing you from the restraints. Now you were able to move, to stand up from the bed and head over towards the bathroom.

“Thank you,” you say to him before he can even register what you were doing.

“W-Where are you going?” He asks, puzzled.

"Going to have a shower now."

"You're not...you don't want me to fuck you?" Felix responds, struck with so much surprise that his mouth remains ajar.

"I came though so..."

"You came? When I told you not to?" He questions.

"Come on,” you jibe at him. “You didn't actually think that I wasn't going to, after just leaving me like that?"

"Can't I fuck you then?" He urges his suggestion.

"Tonight maybe, if I'm not tired," you shrug. "Looks like you'll have to take care of yourself in the meantime."

Felix doesn't want to do that. He doesn't want to take care of himself. He wants you instead. But that was to be a lesson learnt on his behalf for not fully acknowledging your needs.

SEUNGMIN

It had been hours since you saw Seungmin last. Whilst you had the home to yourself, he was at the company with Jisung, piecing together the last of a song they want to release in the future. You knew how hard he was working on it and even felt a bit guilty after almost interrupting it completely from earlier on.

It’s not always like you to let your needs get the better of you. In saying that, they’re your primal needs. Being horny is not exactly something you can help and having a boyfriend like Seungmin, there is zero guarantee that you'll behave yourself.

He's a fine man and the thought of his body and all the instances when you've had sex were used as a reference to help get yourself off while he was absent. Straight after that, you came right back to your senses, truly reinforcing the meaning of 'post-nut clarity'.

Since you had no idea when Seungmin was returning, you weren't going to wait around for him and decided to get out of the house for a bit after showering up and getting ready. You managed to take yourself to a nice cafe, pop into some stores to look at clothes, purchase a few other items - all before Seungmin realised you weren’t home and called you straight away.

"Yes," you answer.

"Where are you?" he gets straight to the point.

"I went out," you respond. "Why's that?"

"It's just that I'm home and I was hoping that you were too."

"Oh, no I'll be out for a while," you tell him, hearing a disgruntled noise on the other end of the line.

"How long?"

"A couple of hours I guess? Why?" You ask again.

"Because I'm fucking hard, and I need you."

You stop dead in your tracks, mouth slightly parted in shock. Seungmin very rarely admits things like this. The majority of the time, he wants to make it about you rather than him. He delights in the reactions he can bring out of you when you're in the exact same state that he's got himself into now. And for what reason you're not too sure.

When he left the house, he didn't reciprocate any sign of being turned on, at least not as much as you were. Maybe, as he was away, he was thinking of you - he had to have been thinking about you to work himself up like that. Then for him to admit it is something else...

"Really?" You reply. "And what are you going to do about it?"

Seungmin groans, "come home please. I need to fuck you - that's what I'm going to do about it."

"Hmm, I dunno. I am supposed to be meeting up with a friend soon..."

"Reschedule with them or go later,” he suggests, growing steadily impatient. “Please come home, for me.”

“Nah, I dunno,” you sigh. “I don’t want to be that friend.”

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last until then,” Seungmin says to himself even though you can hear him loud and clear. He does sound really desperate.

“Sorry Minnie, looks like you’ll have to figure this one out on your own.”

JEONGIN

The few sources of motivation that Jeongin had to drag him throughout the remainder of dance practice were a couple of explicit photo of yourself. That was to be followed up with a five second video of you pleasuring yourself in front of a mirror, waiting for Jeongin to come home.

He made sure that his phone was on mute and that nobody was close by just in case. Once he was safe, Jeongin played the video. Watching you tease your clit, fingers sliding down to your wet hole but not fully fucking yourself.

Jeongin swallows, exits out of the video, locks his phone, then tries desparately to forget the images he just saw in order to continue with the last ten minutes of dance practice. But as soon as that's over, he's out the door and doesn't look back. On his way home, he decides to flick you a message as a forewarning for what's about to happen when he arrives.

From Jeongin: I asked you to send me another pic, not a video of you playing with yourself. Think I might have to punish you for that.

To his displeasure though, he never received your response. All he gets is an empty apartment, nobody else home except him. So he decides to text you again.

From Jeongin to you: where are you??

To Jeongin from you: out

From Jeongin to you: now you respond to my text

To Jeongin from you: didn’t even see it sorry

From Jeongin to you: okay well, you can come home now.

To Jeongin from you: what for? I’m at the supermarket getting groceries

From Jeongin to you: shit, ring me

You look down at the messages from Jeongin with suspicion. He was acting weird, but that’s probably because you had in fact sent him a series of nudes this morning that he’s clearly going feral over. However, you decide to do as he asks if you and ring him.

“Hey,” you answer.

“Please get me off.”

Your eyes widen, “whatever happened to ‘hello’?”

“Y/N I’m serious,” Jeongin responds pleadingly.

“I’m in a public place full of people Jeongin, now isn’t really a good time,” you tell him flatly. “Plus, you have hands.”

“Hands that aren’t going to do the trick because I need you,” he replies.

“Oh, so you need me?” You tease him.

“Yes, fuck - I need you, please just-“

“Hold on my phones about die, I’ll see you when I get home.”

The line on Jeongin’s phone cuts as he looks down at his screen in horror as if the device is melting through his fingers. His heart plummets into his stomach. There’s no way you just left him like that. You wouldn’t do that to him. You wouldn’t just leave him hard and horny. You’re supposed to be his good girl.

Supposed to be at least.

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #han jisung smut #bang chan smut #felix smut #hyunjin smut #changbin smut #i.n smut

[kybercrystals94]

Just a few things in Season 3 Episode 5 that I can’t stop thinking about…

[spoilers below cut]

The way Crosshair treats Omega like a peer.

This is so different from the way Wrecker, Echo, Tech, but specifically Hunter, ever treated Omega. To them, she’s still the little girl they rescued off Kamino. They know they’ve trained her to be capable; however, it is hard to separate their guileless little sister from the little warrior she’s become both with their squad and during her captivity on Tantiss.

Crosshair never knew or cared about little Omega, the child who’d never seen dirt before.

He’s only ever known and cared about this Omega. The Omega that insisted on building a relationship with him in spite of his trying to push her away for her own good. The Omega who refused to leave him behind at risk to herself. The Omega who can hold her own alongside him during a firefight. The Omega who can fly ships, bribe, and swindle. Crosshair has only known this Omega. Why would he treat her as anything but capable? He will absolutely protect her and have her back, but he will not doubt her abilities.

That’s not to say that the others doubt her abilities. I think they absolutely know what Omega is capable of, but that innate desire to protect the little thing she was has not dissolved just because Omega has grown…which is so true of real life. It’s authentic, and it's difficult and messy. And I love that the show is tackling this.

I also love that Crosshair knows this too. “Don’t hold it against him. He’s only worried about you,” he gently advises.

Which leads me into how I viewed Hunter’s behavior in Episode 5…

He doesn’t trust Crosshair. Why would he? The last time they interacted, Crosshair tried to force them to join the Empire of his own volition. He tried to have Omega forcibly removed from their protection. He chose the Empire over them. And then, they find out that Crosshair became a prisoner of the Empire, and their attempt to rescue Crosshair from his own choices resulted in Tech’s death and Omega’s capture. On top of that, what exactly did Crosshair do to get on the Empire’s bad side? Hunter doesn’t know. And Crosshair isn’t volunteering the information.

I also saw a bit of jealousy on Hunter’s part (although he probably doesn’t recognize it). While we as viewers know that Omega is trying to support Crosshair with his emotional and physical trauma, as well as getting him to communicate with Hunter and Wrecker. On the outside, Omega and Crosshair are almost inseparable, Omega seeking out Crosshair’s companionship (the brother that initiated a lot of the Batch’s heartbreak) rather than the brothers who have taken care of her all along. Gotta admit, I’d be pretty hurt by that too. Again, not at all Omega’s intent or fault that he feels this way, but it would be confusing and hurtful nonetheless.

Crosshair also senses this jealousy. (“Oh, don’t pretend like this is all about me…You’re angry because she escaped with my help, not yours.”) What Hunter doesn’t know is that Crosshair has supported Omega and Hunter’s relationship, not undermined it.

I really appreciated how Crosshair - while hurt by Hunter’s mistrust - does his best to prove himself trustworthy again (although hidden behind typical Crosshair snark). He’s broken his brothers’ trust, and he knows it has to be earned back.

Wrecker runs to hug Hunter and Crosshair after they make it back safely.

Wrecker is the only one of the Batch (besides Crosshair, obviously) who has been on both sides of the chip. He understands Hunter’s perspective and trepidation towards Crosshair; however, he also understands the guilt and fear that comes after being under the chip’s influence and nearly killing your family. While he was also confused and hurt by Crosshiar’s actions after the chip, Wrecker trusts Omega’s judgment. If Omega feels that Crosshair has changed, then Wrecker is not going to question it.

But he’s not going to pressure Hunter to the same conclusion, and he’s been Hunter’s support system for so long–and obviously, Crosshair already has a support system in Omega. Wrecker is going to let Hunter take the time he needs to trust Crosshair on his own terms…and I love that!

I felt that when Wrecker saw them coming back, he could tell they had worked out some of their hard feelings toward one another…and he was thrilled! That hug was more than just happy they made it back safe from facing a monster, but that they are on the path to making amends. Their family is healing. Not healed. There’s still hurts and wounds to work through, but healing.

And the way he embraces his two sullen brothers, smooshing them together so that they are also hugging each other by association…made me smile so big!

The way Echo acts as mediator between Hunter and Crosshair. (Also…ECHO FINALLY SHOWS UP!!)

Omega and Wrecker have been struggling trying to support both brothers while they work through their issues, and then there’s Echo saying, “You can kill each other later…focus!” Echo gets it. He knows they need to work things out on their own terms, in their own time. But first…mission!

Also, I loved how civilly he treats Crosshair when they meet again. Crosshair is 100% ready to receive a negative reaction, and when Echo simply snarks back at him like the good ol’ days, Crosshair is visibly surprised. Even Omega looks happy to see the positive interaction.

When Omega expresses how she wishes she could have done more for the other clones on Tantiss, Echo tells her she did the right thing escaping and getting the information she could to him and Rex…he is such a good and encouraging older brother! I love him!

Special mention goes to Crosshair and Batcher being buddies! The way Crosshair pats and pets her when Batcher comes up to him after they rescue Hunter out of the snow. And then Batcher plops down beside him and Crosshair keeps petting her. My little heart!

#the bad batch #star wars #tbb hunter #tbb omega #tbb crosshair #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #tbb spoilers #the bad batch season 3 spoilers #episode 5 #the return #my thoughts on the character development

[yandere-fetish]

Yandere Chairman X Female Reader

Part One

warnings: cheating, mentions of death, family life

One day, you, a wealthy business woman, wake up with visions of the future.

Your husband left you for his childhood sweetheart, your son despises you for trying to split him and his lover up, your daughter was kidnapped and killed, and you were left to die, paralyzed, in some healthcare facility.

You're so scared that you decide to test your theory, just to feel better about your life.

You set traps for your husband.

You monitor your son's personal life.

You give your daughter bodyguards.

You continuously tell yourself that your dreams are just that; dreams. There's nothing to be afraid of, there's nothing to worry about because they're not true. You're not a fortune teller.

But it was all true.

Your husband was secretly meeting his childhood sweetheart while your son was deeply in love with the same woman from your nightmares. You were happy that your daughter hadn't been kidnapped, nor murdered. You were just in time.

And you were not going to make the same mistakes of the you in your dreams.

Of course, you want to give your twenty-three year old son a chance, but the moment you try to speak with him, he answers a call from his "friend" and refuses to acknowledge you. This happens several times until you've had enough of it. The two of you have a heated argument, to which he stomps away and your nineteen year old daughter is left with the task of calming you down.

Your heart hurts when you try to spend more time with your family, especially your husband, but he suddenly has a business trip coming up. He doesn't want to catch dinner because he's tired and is working early in the morning.

You can't help but think he's going to her.

But instead, you grow closer to your daughter, spending the entire week being pampered after feeling so down about the results of your life.

It isn't until a small dinner date with your daughter causes you to catch Yandere Chairman's eye.

Yandere Chairman had been dining with many of his peers when he happened to glance your way. Your radiant smile has him pause on his words while you gushed over the other woman you were sitting with.

Yandere Chairman assumes it's either your daughter or a sister since the two of you look so alike.

His demeanor completely changed after spotting the two of you enjoying each other's company. You both were such beautiful women that he couldn't take his eyes off of you two, especially you.

Yandere Chairman whispers to the waiter for the bill to your table and picks up the tab, his heart fluttering at the way you blush and thank the waiter. He finds your companion cute while searching for the mysterious and generous benefactor before giving up and calling it a night.

Yandere Chairman watches you leave with a look of longing in his eyes.

"Someone catch your eye?"

"Hm, *drinks his brandy*"

"The (H/C) women? ——, you should keep away. She's married."

*his eyes say elaborate*

"*laughs* That was Mrs. Kessler and her daughter, Cerise Kessler. They're the wife and daughter of Jonas Kessler, the one that runs the real estate designs.. ah, ah, Kessler Properties."

"The man who pitched the Ansel House?"

"Yes, that's him."

"What is someone like her doing with scum like him?"

"I think it was a business deal or something like that. Only one of the few families that still allows arranged marriage."

It was an especially lovely day when you had slapped the divorce papers on the table, as well as the photos taken of your soon-to-be ex-husband and his mistress getting frisky several different times. Your husband is appalled, but nonetheless denies divorce.

It isn't until you're able to cleanly give your husband what he wants (a certain property that ends up being infertile) before you're given your divorce.

Extremely happy after getting his signature and a divorce certificate after a quick and clean process with the lawyers, you’re off to have a few drinks, never looking back at the mistake you left behind.

What you didn’t see was the look of shock come across his face. Didn’t you say you were desperately in love with him at one time?

Before you knew it, you were celebrating your successful divorce alone at an elite sunroof bar.

It just so happens that Yandere Chairman had just finished a fruitful business deal with one of the top billionaires around for his own business. When he saw you sitting there at the bar all by yourself, he had to meet you. For some reason, he was drawn to you.

When Yandere Chairman takes a seat next to you and begins a conversation, he notices that instead of being sad or lonely like he originally thought you would be, you’re very bright with a smile on your lips and a gleam in your eyes. This only awakens a new want for you.

The both of you get to talking, even to the point of exchanging numbers. Yandere Chairman even goes out of his way to help you move out. He’s all ready heard about your divorce (first from his sources, then second from your mouth) so of course he’s going to help you move on! (Just wait until he gets you into his bed—)

Yandere Chairman goes to the extent of taking off his afternoon to help you decide what house would be perfect for you and your daughter, who he ends up confirming was the woman you were eating with that day.

Yandere Chairman even asks you to dinner to celebrate your achievements in such a short amount of time. He’s such a polite gentleman that he even allows you to invite your daughter.

The restaurant is as lavish as it can be when you meet him there. Your daughter is skeptical, knowing about the divorce and how her father treats her mother, she can’t help but want to be protective over you after another man has asked you out so soon. You’re her one and only mother, she couldn’t let you fend for yourself after willingly walking into a lion’s den.

When she meets Yandere Chairman, her mouth visibly drops. You have to pick it up for her as he helps the two of you settle in.

Yandere Chairman, on the other hand, can feel the intense stares coming from the table while conversing with you. It’s not until he opens the floor for her to begin her questions.

“Cerise, is there something on your mind?”

“Yes. *purses lips*”

“*smiles and takes a drink* Say it.”

“Why did you ask my mom out on a date when you knew she had just been divorced today?”

“Cerise! Don’t—“

“It’s okay, (Y/N). I can answer it. *turns to Cerise* I saw an opportunity and I took it.”

“So does that mean you can just toss her to the side whenever you want?”

“*silverware clatters* Cerise! Are you serious?”

“Mom, I don’t trust him! No matter how handsome or famous he is, for all we know, he could be waiting to take advantage of you like dad! I don’t want you to hurt again…”

“*swallows at her words, then smiles* Thank you for looking out for me, and while it’s very comforting, shouldn’t I be the one worrying about you getting hurt? Look at all the young men there are that barely have any brains, and even less when a hussy wraps them around their finger! Just take a look at your brother.”

*laughs*

“So stop worry about me and make your own mistakes okay? I appreciate you and love you so much, okay?”

“Okay, mom.”

“This. This is why, Cerise.”

*both turn to Yandere Chairman*

“What do you mean?”

“I’m all my years, I’ve never had someone in my life that cares so much for others, and whether it ends in marriage or a friendship.. I’ll still be satisfied as long as (Y/N) stays in my life for now.”

*smiles*

“And occasionally you too, Cerise—“

“Hey!”

“—if you’d like.”

After that dinner with Yandere Chairman, you both learned a lot about him.

His parents had been in an arranged marriage, and while his father kept mistresses outside, his mother suffered. He wanted to help you as much as he could to not become like his mother.

On many occasions after that, Yandere Chairman would be seen with you, and occasionally with your daughter as well.

Whether it was dinners, business parties, family gatherings, or charity events, Yandere Chairman had one or both of you by his side.

It was a small little family with smiles all around.

Yandere Chairman even plans a birthday getaway for you with your daughter.

The next thing you know, you’re getting in a plane with your daughter to an exotic island paradise. At first, it’s just you and your daughter exploring the town and marketplace, buying a few things here and there (your daughter refuses for you to buy anything and buys everything for you).

When you arrive to dinner, there’s candle lights with rose petals leading you to the table overlooking a beautiful sunset and beach. You’re breath is taken away.

Yandere Chairman gifts you a beautiful diamond necklace you’ve never seen before. Before you can deny his gift, he kisses the back of your hand — taking your breath away for a second time that night.

“You look so beautiful with the sunset behind you. Happy birthday, (Y/N).”

“*blushes* Thank you, ——.”

Your life with Yandere Chairman has only gotten better and better. Your daughter and him have a good father-daughter relationship, going so far as to your daughter asking to call him her “better dad”, to which you were strongly against until she had a shirt, buttons, office supplies, and anything else made with the logo on it for Father’s Day.

From then on, any Instagram post your daughter made with him had him dubbed as her “better dad” to the world. She had all ready blocked her real father and brother. She didn’t need scum like them in her life if her mother didn’t either.

Yandere Chairman couldn’t be anymore satisfied even though his relationship with you hasn’t been officially established to the public.

Yandere Chairman speaks with his staff about allowing you and your daughter to visit at anytime, and even claims the two of you as family when needed to give a reason (not that he needs to, he just wants to brag about you two). They all ready knew you two were special, but now it must be serious!

“Give them full access. Don’t let anyone not know who these two are. *points at a picture of you and your daughter.”

“Yessir. Is there anything else?”

“Don’t allow these two in or business to be done with them, no matter the circumstances.”

*leaves a photo of your ex-husband and your son*

He wasn't about to allow your ex to come back into the picture and ruin all his plans. You're his, and so is Cerise. He has a right to protect the two of you now that you two will no longer be a secret anymore.

Part two?

#yandere #yandere x female reader #male yandere #obsessive love #obsessive yandere #yandere aesthetic #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere x darling #yandere smut #yandere chairman #yandere oc #yandere romance #yandere stories #yandere x reader #yandere concept #yandere oc x you #yandere x you #oc x reader #x reader #female reader #family #ex husband #reborn #rich life

[tobiasdrake]

One of the problems with science fiction is that there is no secular term for the soul. It's a religious concept with no scientific basis, but artistically it conveys a very important idea that I think sometimes gets lost in sci-fi. It's a simple term for an important idea that gets rejected out-of-hand because it's a religious idea, but it actually matters a great deal for non-religious reasons.

In essence, soul is an easy shorthand for the breadth of one's inherent, individual being-ness. To avoid the kneejerk associations that sci-fi fans have to the word "soul", I tend to use "continuity of consciousness" to try and explain this idea. But a lot of times people still don't quite seem to grasp it.

In essence, there is a tendency in sci-fi to think of people externally. A person is their demonstrable factors. Their appearance, their personality, their memory, their experience, all things that can be interacted with or recreated through the magic of super-science.

If you clone Joe, then the result is Joe! We brought Joe back to life through cloning. Now Joe is here with us again. And if we clone Joe again, we get two Joes! Isn't that amazing? And they're both Joe!

But.

Like.

We don't think of people internally. Are they both Joe? Is either of them even Joe? Or are they brand new people saddled with Joe's memories and personality and history?

What happened to Joe? We're only thinking about Joe in terms of our perspective as people who are not Joe, but what was Joe's experience? Did he actually die, and then wake up in a new clone body? Is his continuity of consciousness preserved? Did he actually experience coming back to life? Or did Joe die, and now Joe is still just dead. And there's been a new consciousness created to inhabit the clone?

What does this experience look like from Joe's perspective? Not Clone Joe. Original Joe.

Severed from its religious meaning, this is what the soul is an artistic shorthand for. Joe's "soul" is a simple and easy way of conveying the question, what actually happened to the inherent consciousness/personhood/continuous thinking existence of the true Joe? Does the clone share the same "soul" or does it have a new "soul"? Do their consciousnesses continue from one to another or are their consciousnesses separate?

Even calling it "consciousness" doesn't fully convey this idea. Because they can have different answers for that. The clone may feel that their consciousness extends back throughout Joe's death and life, while the original Joe's consciousness nonetheless ended at death. There is no secular term for the inherent quality of a continuity of individually existing, in and of itself.

And because there's no secular term, we just don't think about it.

But I do. I think about this every time I'm presented with a clone or a time-travel duplicate or a parallel universe counterpart, and told by the story to treat them as if they were the same. If this character does not share continuity of the original's consciousness, then they are not the same. Even if all other features are identical.

And I don't know how to express that with words.

#science fiction #cloning #writing #characters