#but this? i feel like there are some people who might need to hear this

[thefantasyden]

Stray Kids reaction to different sub types

Now, the sub types I chose for each member are all different, but I hope you'll enjoy none the less.

Smut warning as always.

Chris:

Puppy Subs

Non Sexually: I think Chris is a great fit for puppy subs! Eager for affection, ready to please.

Chris would be a little confused at first, not really sure how to interact with you until he realises he can, in fact, just treat you like a dog.

He'd be so happy coming home to you, petting your hair, and asking if you've been good today. He almost always bring you home some kind of snack or treat because he always sees things that make him think of you.

He would low-key love the way you cling to him in public and your annoyed grumbles when you started getting sleepy or wanted more attention. CHAN PUPPY SUB LOVER he just thinks they're so cute.

Sexually: he loves the kind of sex that he doesn't have to think for, and a needy puppy in heat caters to that perfectly. Not to mention the breeding kink!

There's nothing that makes him cum quite as hard as rambling to his puppy about how he's gonna breed them as a reward for taking him so well and hearing you whine out your desperate pleas in response.

"Ohhhh my puppy. You want a bone, huh? C'mere."

Minho

Innocent Sub

Non Sexually: Minho would LOVE an innocent and obedient sub. One that never really questions what he's doing because they trust him that much. There's nothing better than being trusted so completely that he can manouver you wherever he wants and give you any task knowing you'll complete it without complaint.

He's on it from the go, testing out your submission by giving you the most random tasks at all times of the day.

Min likes these types even more because he can do anything he wants and people won't think twice because you appear to be so sweet. They don't question when he slots his thigh between yours and spreads your legs with his or when he pulls you down onto his lap out of nowhere, and that thrills him.

Sexually: He loves rewarding you. He doesn't need to have a real reason because he can just make one up. Half the time you can't understand why brushing your teeth or folding your laundry has earned you the opportunity to be spread out on his bed so he can devour you like he was made for it, but you won't complain.

He'll tease you endlessly, too. A good mix of feathery touches that tickle your skin and firm groping that both grounds you and knocks all thought from your brain. Constantly making you tell him that you like what he's doing, because it sounds songood in your slightly confused, dazed voice.

"Uh uh, use your words. Tell me how good I make you feel and then you can cum."

Changbin:

'Alpha' Sub

Non Sexually: This isn't controversial in any way, but Binnie wouldn't love a sub who also commands respect around others. He let's you wear the pants in public, no questions asked because it makes him proud to see how people are slightly scared of you because of your take no shit attitude.

If anyone guessed, they might even think he was the sub in your relationship with the way you boss him around, but he knows the second he asks you to do something you'll be jumping to make it happen. You're actually very obedient and well trained.

Sexually: He can't help but get turned on when you're being all commanding and strong. It's the contrast that does it for him, and he'll have you kneeling in front of him as soon as you're alone, massinging your scalp with a firm grip onnyour hair as you nuzzle at his thigh, dreamy sighs blessing his ears.

You're the kinda sub that he can fuck dumb really easily and he uses that to his advantage. Every. Single. Time. He's God great control so he won't cum until he's make you cum around his cock a few times, and even then he's going multiple rounds. He knows you'll take it every time.

"There's my baby. I know you can take the whole thing. You don't need to think about it, ok?"

Hyunjin:

Princess Sub

Non Sexually: Hyune loves a princess because he loves to dress you up and show you off, but not in the same way one would with a bimbo. Nom Hyunjin likes having the most beautiful, untouchable person in the room wrapped around his fingers.

He would appreciate the way a Princess Sub carries themselves. They know their worth, and they don't settle, so he gets to revel in the fact that you chose him and continue to choose him every day. You've deemed him worthy of your submission, and that's everything to him.

Sexually: His favourite thing is to fuck his Princess fully clothed. Both of you. The neediness of it, the dishevelled appearance you come out with. Something about ruining you really gets him going and once he starts, he can't stop.

He gets off on knowing that you're seen as someone that nobody could live up to, yet you're doing filthy depraved things for the sole purpose of his pleasure, and of course returning the favour tenfold.

"Look at you. God, you're a masterpiece, you know that?"

Han:

Slutty Subs

Non Sexually: he loves the clinginess. The way you always want to be close to him, on him.not only is the physical pressure of your body in his something he finds incredibly soothing and grounding, but he always thrives when he feels wanted and craved in the way you show.

It's hard for him not to blush and feel a little awkward when you insist on longer kisses and sitting on his lap despite the free seat next to him, but he really does adore it. Even when your hands start wandering a little too much.

Sexually: The NEEDINESS. God, having you begging for him any time you're alone drives him wild. He's capable of being calm. Don't get me wrong. But when you rile him up, all bets are off and he's taking you over the nearest surface.

Also, lots of CASUAL sex. Cockwarming during movies, fingering you when he's scrolling through his phone, your warm mouth wrapped around his cock when he's working. It's a strange sort of affection thing between you and the intimacy is the most important part of sex for Sungie, so he kind of loves that it's more about you showing how much you love and need him then just you hunting for an orgasm.

"Ah, fine! You can put it in your mouth, but no moving until I say so."

Felix:

Experienced Subs

Non Sexually: Felix and experienced subs are a matched made in heaven. He's curious about so many things and the fact that you're able to teach him how to do them means you get to turn him into your perfect Dominant, which is really all he's aiming for.

Felix is thrilled at how easily you'll bring up a new kink or a new toy and how quickly he's able to pick up from you, but even more than that, he's thrilled that you'd even bother to guide him.

He takes a special interest to after care if we're being frank. He loves to succeed at pushing you into a place of bliss and then soak up how song and pliant you are, snuggling you into his chest and fawning over you.

Sexually: The way you're able to figure out what he needs and give it to him will never fail to have him fucking you into the mattress. After a while of experimenting and becoming more comfortable with his own dominance he'd find himself craving it and he doesn't really know how to deal with that, so you just sink to your knees beside him when he's playing games and let him run his fingers through your hair and it sends a simultaneous rush of pride and heat straight to his cock.

He likes that you're not afraid to be vocal about what you want and need. He takes note of everything you like and everything that makes you moan a little louder and uses it against you until he's mastered to art of switching you into sub space with very little effort.

"You need me to take care of you, huh? Come on, I know you do. Let me make you feel good."

Seungmin:

Soft Brat Sub

Non Sexually: Hear me out, okay. I think Minnie would adore the playful side of a soft Brat. He loves that you give his attitude right back to him and toe the line of too far without ever crossing it. You're never disrespectful of the authority you chose to give him, but you're ready to call him out when he's wrong and he likes that.

He gets really giggly and happy when you tease him back, always flirting with him and reminding him of the effect he has on you. He almost expects it, and he'll be sad if you suddenly stop.

Sexually: Seungmin likes a little power struggle. He teases you harder when you resist, slowing his thrust until it's just a lazy roll of his hips against yours because he knows you'll break easily. The fact that he gets to 'break' you, but it has very little resistance, is actually nice for him because he doesn't want to feel like he's fighting to earn your respect constantly.

When you finally do give up your faux resistance, he makes sure to reward you. He'll almost always hold your hands while he pounds into you, kissing your nose and telling you how easy you make it for him. He's big on the affection when you fuck.

"That's it. Give in to it. I know it feels good. You can have more if you give up."

Jeongin:

Prey Subs

Non sexually: Our sweet innie is positively beaming when he sees flashes of worry in your eyes. He knows you're not scared of him. You're just eager for him, and it's fun to him. He loves to catch you off guard and startle you by grabbing your hips and pulling you close to him.

You love it too, of course. Innie is big on consent, and he wouldn't be wrapping his pretty hand around the base of your throat when he kisses your cheek unless he was positive you liked it.

He also likes to poke and prod at you just a little. The playful bullying is a big part of your dynamic and a way he shows his affection whilst reminding you of your place.

Sexually: The chase is everything. On special occasions you'll find yourself playing hide and seek through your apartment building, and it's led to you fucking in the gym more than once. He doesn't really understand why hunting you is so hot, but he's thirsty for it.

When he's not hunting you, he's manhandling you. It's not always rough, but he's always caging you in somehow. His body wrapped around yours, his hand pressed firmly in the middle of your back, your thighs pushed up to your chest. He doesn't really think about it much. He just knows he needs to take you, and he can't help but get a little aggressive.

"Baby, when I find you, I promise I'm gonna be fucking you on the nearest flat surface."

#stray kids smut #bang chan smut #changbin smut #hyunjin smut #lee know smut #chan smut #i.n smut #han smut #jisung smut #felix smut #seungmin smut #jeongin smut #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #i.n x reader #jeongin x reader #han x reader #jisung x reader #hyunjin x reader #changbin x reader #lee know x reader #minho x reader #chan x reader

[norrisleclercf1]

Gone

Pairing: Mafia!Max x Wife!Reader

Rating: PG-17

Words: 1.3K

Warnings: Kidnapping, major angst, Mad!Max etc.

Requested: Yes/No

A/N: Soooo I chanaged the request and I apologize for that as I barely changed request but I felt like the children being taken would've fit better. Hope you love it!

Standing outside the school, you hold your little bump, smiling as you wait for the twins to come running out into your arms. You still can't believe you're wearing heels, but they help you see over some of the other parents, able to see all the babies come running.

Your guards stand on either side, your outfit perfect for the weather, a little blue dress that is flexible with your growing stomach. You see your twin's teacher and wave, wondering where your 5-year-old boys are. "Oh, Mrs. Verstappen, did one of the boys leave something?" Your guard's heads move around the yard quickly, trying to find the boys. "What do you mean, leave something?" You try to clamp down the panic. Maybe they had already rushed out of the building, and you didn't see them, and they're trying to find you.

"Two of your guards came to get them; they left about two hours ago." Taking a deep breath, you feel your world shift hearing that. "No, none of my guards came to get the boys." The teacher's eyes go wide, and you let out a little chuckle. "No, no, they must still be here. FABIAN! CASPER!" Your scream breaks across the yard, parents and children all looking at you as the guards rush around looking for the twins.

"Mrs. Verstappen," The teacher tries to touch you, but you back up, putting a protective arm around your stomach. "No! WHERE ARE MY SONS!"

----------------

Max has never moved so fast in his life, breaking every traffic law, as three huge black SUVs tried to keep up with him, but there was no point. He was driving far too fast for them to keep up. Pulling up to the school, he slams the car in park as hoards of police move around. Getting out of the car, he first clocks your sobs.

"Schat!" Max screams and shoves past the police, crumpling to his knees and holding you close. "Where are my babies? Where are they!" You sob, sitting on one of the benches. Max has you close, trying to keep his anger in check, needing to be there for you.

"Baby, sweet angel, you must calm down. You might hurt the baby. Take deep breaths, please, for me." Max begs, his eyes wide and wild; you nod, trying to calm down as Max's men finally arrive and rush into the school. The police know better than to get in the way.

Taking deep breaths, you shake, Max kissing your hands and all over your face. "We'll find them, I promise to you. I won't come home without our sons," he promises, kissing your wedding ring. Maxie, it's almost time for dinner. They're going to be hungry, tired, and scared." You sob again, Max growling, pulling you into his arms.

"Sir! We found something!" Max turns their head, seeing his men as people still run around and searching the area. "I'll be back, I promise. Take my wife home, now," He snaps, the men nodding as you sob harder, holding one of the twin's jackets. Max stares at the small article of clothing and feels his heart stop. His boys, his soul, and his babies have been taken, and he doesn't know by whom. Or who would be stupid enough to do it?

Throwing the school door open, he breaks the window and splits the wood as he stalks into the office. "There," They point at the computer showing the screen as the two boys walk with the two men, Max noticing the tattoos on their hands. "Goddammit! How the fuck, did you miss having two of our ENEMIES HERE!" Grabbing anything he can reach, he throws it, watching as it shatters to the floor and breathes heavily.

"Find my sons, or else people will start losing their heads. FIND ME BOYS NOW!" Max roars, the men scattering like bugs as he breathes heavily, staring at the frozen image of Fabby laughing while Casper looks scared. "Cassie, Fabby, I'm coming, I swear," Max whispers.

--------------------

"Fabby, I'm scared. said Daddy and Mommy here." Casper whimpers as Fabian moves closer to his baby brother, ensuring he is safe. "Don't worry, Daddy come." Fabian knew this wasn't right, and Casper was far more scared and gentler than him. Fabian holds his brother closer, and Casper starts to cry as they sit in the small, cramped, dark room. "Okay, Cassie, okay," Fabian whispers.

They both jump, screaming as they hear loud explosions and screams in Dutch and another random language. "Where. Are. My. Children?" Casper perks up, hearing their daddy's voice. "DADDY!"

Max rips his head to the side and feels his blood run cold, seeing they are inside a box. Running over, he trips as he rips the lead off with his bare hands, blood everywhere, as he looks down at his babies. "Cassie, Fabby," He whispers, and Fabian and Casper look up at him.

"Daddy, uppie!" Cassie whispers, holding his arms out; Max throws his gun away and grabs the boys, lifting them out and holding them close to his chest. Sliding down, he starts to cry, having been so terrified. "Daddy, I stayed strong for Cassie," Fabian whispers, his bottom lip jutting. Max sniffles, crying as he covers Fabby in kisses as Casper, sweet little Cassie, finally being safe, sleeps in his father's arms.

"You're so brave, my strong little cub." Max sobs and Fabian finally starts to cry. "Daddy, home." Max nods, standing on shaking legs, running on pure terror and adrenaline.

---------------

"Casper! Fabian!" You cry as Max enters the house holding the boys. "Mommy! Hungry!" Caspian laughs, and you sob, seeing they are okay as Max sits them down. They come running into your arms. "Are you and the baby okay?" Max whispers, sitting on the floor with you as the boys cuddle into your arms. We're okay now." Max nods and pulls you three into his arms.

You don't ask him about the tear stains, nor do you question the blood all over him either. "They're not going back to that school," Max makes a face, and you sigh as Casper and Fabby start to fight. "Yeah, it might've burned down," You can't help the wet chuckle that leaves your throat as you cuddle closer to your husband. Max sighs, "We need to go to bed," Max whispers, taking Casper, who giggles and snuggles into Max while Fabian gets sleepy in your hold. 

Nodding, you take the boys to the bathroom, running a bath as the house crawls with guards. "We're never leaving them," You whimper as you help them undress. Max nods. He'd been scared before, but this terror he felt when he got the phone call stopped his world. Max couldn't breathe; he was terrified in a way he never wanted to feel again. The boys giggle and play in the bath as you stare at his hands. "They're fine, just some cuts." He explains, and you grab his hands, kissing them gently. 

"Thank you, thank you for bringing our boys home." Max looks down and pulls you into his chest. "I'll always bring them home," Caspier yawns loudly, and you smile, both of you picking a twin up and getting them dressed in their favorite PJs. "Want to sleep with Mommy and Daddy?" Max asks; even if they said no, he wasn't going to allow it; he couldn't let them out his sight, terrified he'd wake up, and they'd still be gone. 

"Yes!" They both giggle, and Max gently tosses them onto the bed as you climb in, wearing one of his shirts, Max. He undresses and cleans himself up as he stops and stares at Fabby curled on your chest practically, sleeping, and Cassie is sitting up, trying his hardest to stay awake. "Cuddles, Daddy." Max smiles softly, climbs into the bed, and pulls Cassie, you, and Fabian close, kissing each of you. Max takes a deep breath and sighs, closing his eyes as he listens to the soft breathing of his babies. 

They were okay. 

#f1 #f1 fandom #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 scenario #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 fiction #f1 fanfiction #f1 fics #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 angst #f1 fluff #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen angst #max verstappen oneshot #max verstappen f1 #mafia!f1 #f1!mafia #mafia!max verstappen

[engie-ivy]

(Fic I didn't know I wanted to write! So thank you for the inspiration, @wolfstarmicrofic!)

28th: Dogwalker AU

673 words

Some good old mutual pining between a dogwalker and his client!

Date My Hooman?

“Has he been a good boy?” Sirius is sitting on his knees, scratching Padfoot’s ears (and making quite the sight while doing so).

Remus crosses his arms over his chest. “Now you're just fishing for compliments. You know damn well Padfoot’s always a good boy.”

Sirius grins up at him. “Guilty as charged.” He looks back at Padfoot who's thoroughly enjoying his ear scratches. “I know my dog is great, but I love hearing other people tell me that my dog is great also.”

“Right you are,” Remus chuckles. “How was your day at the office?”

“Dreadfully dull,” Sirius replies instantly. “Really, Remus, you made some good career choices that you now get to play with dogs all day.”

“Well, I don't get to live in a house like that.” Remus nods towards Sirius’ three-story mansion with the sprawling garden around it.

Sirius winks at him as he gets up to his feet. “Maybe if you play your cards right.”

Remus can feel his cheeks heating up.

Before, he was just amused by Sirius’ flirtatious banter, and he actually gave it as good as he got. But now, he suddenly feels flustered, at a loss for words, and wholly out of his depth whenever Sirius makes a comment like that.

After long conversations, with Sirius being the last stop on Remus’ afternoon route, and being subjected to Sirius’ sharp mind and disarming sense of humour, things have changed for Remus.

He used to think that the best part of his day would always be seeing the excitement on a dog’s face when he reaches out to unclip their leash to let them run around the park and play with their friends, but now, it's like nothing compares to seeing the excitement on Sirius’ face at the end of the day as he crouches down to greet his beloved dog after long hours the office. Remus’ days have started to revolve around the moments he brings Padfoot home, and it's becoming A Problem.

“And that's not even taking into account cold, rain, new regulations, demanding clients,” Remus continues, as if he didn't hear Sirius’ last comment.

Then Remus’ own dog, Moony, dashes forward and starts licking a tail-wagging Padfoot’s face, like he knows he has to say goodbye to his friend for now, and Remus’ heart just melts. “Oh, who am I kidding? It's bloody amazing.”

When the dogs have said their goodbyes, it's time for their owners to do so as well.

“See you tomorrow?” Sirius asks.

“Of course.”

“Great.” Sirius beams at him. “Looking forward to it.”

Remus’ heart skips a beat at those words. Yes, definitely A Problem.

Sirius has given Remus the key to the annex besides the main house, so he can pick up Padfoot, take him for a long walk, and then, by the time they return, Sirius will be back from the office and usually already waiting on them.

Sirius has actually turned the annex into a space especially for Padfoot, with water and food, several dog beds, toys, and a dog door, so he can go in and out to the yard whenever he wants. Sirius has even hung framed pictures on the walls of him and Padfoot together. A fuzzy feeling spreads across Remus’ chest upon seeing those pictures. A Problem indeed.

Padfoot immediately comes running, happily wagging his tail, brimming with excitement to go on his walk.

“Calm down, Pads,” Remus laughs, as the dog keeps circling his legs and jumping up and down. “Come on, I need to attach your leash, otherwise we can't go. Hey, what you've got there, buddy?” He spots a piece of paper neatly tucked underneath Padfoot’s collar and he plucks it out. As he unfolds it, he realizes it's a note.

And as he reads, a huge smile starts to spread across Remus’ face.

Dear Remus,

You might have noticed that my hooman has quite a crush on you.

Will you please save me from his desperate pining, and let my hooman take you out on a date?

#give it a few months and remus will be living in that house #dogwalker #dogwalker remus lupin #pining remus lupin #pining sirius black #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius

[ja3yun]

i can't move on from please be real because it has me thinking about what kind of boyfriend jay would actually be irl

luckily for you anon, i think about it constantly and have a notesapp doc dedicated to it so let me share

warnings: mentions of insecurity, kisses

wc: 600

jay would call you baby/babe and honey, like they are his go to petnames for you and they slip from his lips so casually that he barely calls you by your name anymore

jay would have a playlist with all the songs you've recommended him and play them when he's just doing his tasks because they remind him of you

jay compliments you on almost everything you do, even if you do it badly, he is so encouraging for you to try new things.

he is the type to never tell you what to wear when you go out but if he knows you might end up somewhat insecure or uncomfortable with stares, he always gives you his jacket

and even if you're insecure about your body in general, jay would try his best to make sure you have a good relationship with food, he doesn't want you to be overwhelmed by standards or calories so he would constantly work with you to have the best mindset

when he goes shopping, jay will pick up your favourite snacks without having to be asked because "you'll eat them at some point"

jay takes your hand randomly when you're out, like of course he will hold your hand when you're walking but even when you're out with friends and yapping, he would intertwine his fingers with yours because it just feels right

because jay loves to cook, he would make you food you want to try and on special occasions he'll bake you sweet treats - even if he fails when trying to make them into heart shapes

jay would buy you things but i think it would be sentimental things that you can cherish because he bought them with you in mind; jewellery and handmade gifts are his favourite to get you because they'd be specific to you

he alternates between being the big spoon and little spoon, he doesn't mind either way, just whatever is comfortable for you

jay also loves laying his head on your lap or vice versa, talking about your mundane job or whatever is on your mind, he'll play with your hair as you speak, smiling at your anecdotes and silly accents you somehow bring out when impersonating your boss/co-worker/classmate (he is also heavily invested in the drama and gets angry with you)

if someone cracks a joke at your expense, he'll get defensive, calling the person out even if you're not there because he hates it when people speak about you in an ill manor, even jokingly

you would have couple piercings with him, ones that he would get matching earrings for

jay loves you unconditionally but he will vocalise when he is upset with you and talk it out, he would bottle up some feelings but not the ones that involve your relationship because he wouldn't want to put a strain on your relationship - communication is key to him

he would dry your hair if you were too tired, putting it on the lowest setting so he could spend more time taking care of you but he says it’s just so he can hear you

jay would smother you in kisses and take any opportunity to steal a smooch - in bed, when you’re cooking, when you’re distracted by the tv, each time he would kiss you and bring the attention back to him

jay is the type of boyfriend who would smile during kisses, especially when you're gripping his shirt and pulling him as close to you as possible, he loves to feel wanted and needed

he doesn’t tell you he loves you all the time because he doesn’t want the words to lose their meaning, so instead he shows it by being there for you and doing actions that prove to you that he will love you for the rest of time

#aj answers #you didnt ask for this i'm sorry #but i am very passionate about bf jay #i think about him a LOT #jay #jay enhypen #enhypen #jongseong #enhypen fluff

[yandere-sins]

A yandere with a darling who is kinda worse than they are but are still into it.....I don't know how unhinged you'd have to be for the yan to be like "Are you ok? Like if you need to talk about it I've put listening devices in the vents but still..."

I didn't want this to go into compliant darling territory or the darling being the yandere for someone else (though I did laugh a lot at the idea of telling the darling that the vents are bugged just in case they need it lol that's a good one). But this somewhat brought me a kind of different idea which you probably didn't intend, but I hope you like it all the same!

Warnings: Yandere, Violence (Descriptive acts of murder, stabbing, punching other people, breaking bones, getting bloody, a lot of blood actually, burying bodies), Sexual Content (Mentioning of non-con, dub-con, taking advantage, doing it in the blood of victims and next to dead bodies), Mentioning of drugs, Mentioning of knives, Patient/Doctor relationships, Murderer/Admirerer relationships, Reader is a serial killer, Yandere captures people for reader to kill, Yandere is also mad but so is reader, Reader doubts yandere's reasons for liking them, Reader is genderneutral but gets lifted into a bridal-style at the end, I once again didn't compile these warnings while writing and editing so I might miss some, sorry :(, Mentioning of wanting to throw up, Reader doesn't actually want to get better, it was different but really fun to write, Long post?, I feel like there are more warnings... but I can't remember anymore, if you made it this far and still want to read it, I hope you enjoy it!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Click

You sighed, holding your head in your hands, arms squeezed between your torso and legs. Your head was throbbing with the headache of the century. One you hadn't had in a long time... like five days. 

"You're a fucking dick, you know that?"

Groaning, you heard your own voice echo through your dizzy brain, nausea building as you felt like you were on a ship, everything moving unsteadily around you. The blinding lights flooding the off-white room didn't help soothe the feeling either, and your whole body kept tensing up, readying itself to throw up. You tried deep breaths, but they barely did anything. Not like they ever did something. You were too far gone for that.

"I did what was necessary," his voice rang out through the speaker in the top left corner, accompanied by the screeching of technical issues. You whined loudly, tearing your hair out as your head felt like it would burst. "My bad," he added, turning down the volume.

"What was it this time? Double the dose, triple? Must you keep drugging me? Some doctor you are..."

"I tried something new," he admitted, a cheeky grin in his voice. 

"Worked great..." you slurred, listening to him chuckle. 

For a while, you gave in to the need to collapse, putting your arm over your eyes to escape the lights while you thought about the last few things you could remember. Therapy was going well... at least that's what you were told. But the nurses—ugh. That one bitch.

"She did it on purpose," you mumbled, hearing the softest of agreement through the speaker. You knew that if it wasn't against regulation, he'd be sitting next to you, brushing your hair out of the way while you'd tell him your woes. He was that kind of sicko. A doctor, yet fascinated with you, his patient. Even though he merely sat behind the cameras, watching you, you could hear the sickening affection he held for only his favorite patient in every one of his words. 

In a way, he wasn't that different from you.

"You beat her up real good, smashed her face in. Got yourself into a frenzy and just tore open all your stitches from your last fight while you were at it, you really..."

He sighed. He was disappointed. Upset. This was a significant setback for him, too, after all. 

"She called me too stupid to ever recover properly and I was trying this time, really! How else should I have reacted?"

"You could have told me."

"And you would have dealt with her how?"

A brief chuckle rang out before he replied, although, had you been less delirious, you wouldn't have needed to ask. You knew what he did to people who behaved poorly with you. "I would have taken care of her, as always. You know you have my unending support."

You couldn't help a smile creeping over your face, the memory of burying the last nurse who bothered you in the asylum's cemetary resurfacing. Digging out the grave had been hard work, but you had to agree with him that the physical labor did wonders to soothe your ever-agitated mind. 

"You're terrible," you mumbled, unable to hide your smile.

"Ah! There it is! Look at those little dimples! I'm glad my services are appreciated by my darling. I was hoping to take you out on a rendevous once the dust settles. Maybe we can do that sooner than I expected."

"Who'd want that, you sicko."

Groaning, you finally sat up, looking down at the cushioned floor while you adjusted to being awake. Standing took a few attempts; the cushions aligned along the wall, not actually graspable, even if they looked like it. Everything about the solitary cell was so safe, it made you feel helpless. But eventually you managed to get to your wobbly feet, sighing in exhaustion once you stood.

"There you go, breaking my heart," he sighed, and you shook your head with a laugh, knowing he didn't mean it. 

"No straight jacket this time?" you asked, raising your arms and, for the first time since you awoke, realizing your movements were unrestraint.

"You weren't in a condition to restrain you. I prioritized your healing over that awful jacket."

"You just don't like it because it does nothing for my figure."

Again, you heard the grin in his voice as he said, "Busted. You're too cute to walk around constrained. Even though I love how crazy you look with it."

"Sicko..." you mumbled, your nickname for your doctor, endearing only in his ears. 

Your limbs were terribly heavy as you moved them towards the door. Part of you wanted to collapse on the ground again; simply pass out where you were. But knowing him, he'd definitely use the opportunity to take advantage of you, especially now that he could get a video of it. 

You didn't always mind what your doctor did to you. In a way, he was helpful even if everything you two did was against any laws in this country. If anyone knew what you two were getting into when no one was looking, you'd both be put down like rabid dogs. But that's just how you two were—feral.

The sicko kept telling you how he'd get you back on track. How he'd "fix" you just enough so you could go home with him. There was no way you'd consider living with him if you ever did get out. Still, he liked to paint the picture whenever he crawled into your bed while on night duty, hugging you and telling you about his ideas. You told him often enough that, given the chance, you'd kill him outside the safety of this institution, but so far... you hadn't.

You had enough chances, enough people he let you murder, watching you while you did it and helping you to hide the bodies once you were satisfied, but you never once turned the knife on him. Maybe it was because of his studies; perhaps he knew more about you than you about yourself. Or it was because he was just as insane. Fucking your patient in the blood of their victims was definitely not normal, even you knew that. So what other reason could he have for it except insanity? 

"Earth to my darling, I repeat: Are you thirsty?"

You felt the heat spread over your face as you felt called out by his question, almost as if he was reading your mind. It wasn't like you two were lovers. There was no chance in hell you'd get together with someone like him—or anyone for that matter. You didn't want the burden of someone clinging to you while you did your dirty work.

But the sex after releasing all your pent-up anger? Out of this world. 

Perhaps his doctorate was in fucking instead of psychiatry, but he knew how to work every part of his body. And he knew just how to get you in the mood, too. An explosive combination, mixing his lust with your madness.

That didn't change much about your feelings for him, though. 

"I'm not," you muttered, trying to hide your face, which probably showed the embarrassment you felt, thinking of the last romp you two had. You tried the deep breaths again, but the thoughts kept popping back into your mind. Must be the drugs, you thought.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course!" 

His excitement was loud and clear as it rang through the microphone, and you weren't sure if you should smile at it or sneer. For some reason, you both held each other in a tight grip, unable to be separated, yet most likely toxic for each other. But he still got excited over any kind of interest you had in him and you about all the things he did so you could live out your best life—even though you were locked away for a reason. 

"Why me?" you asked, standing in front of the door, not looking up. Even if he was just the voice behind a camera at the moment, somehow, this question left a bad taste in your mouth. You didn't want him to see the conflict on your face; didn't want him to know that you were doubting how deserving you were of his favor. It wasn't insecurity, wasn't a need for reassurance, but how could anyone look at you and think, "That's the one!"? You killed people, went into violent rages, and weren't considered safe enough to be reintegrated into society, probably ever again. There was nothing you had to show for yourself. Nothing that could justify the feeling of adoration your own therapist held for you. Especially not he. He should have been one of the good ones. And you weren't. It made no sense to you why he'd behave like he did.

"Why you what?"

"Why do you like me so much? I mean, come on! I mean, look at us! We're batshit crazy! This isn't some romance movie on television, we're actually doing bad shit, and yet you keep shielding me, doing me favors, telling me you love me. I'm sure there are others out there who you can fix and fuck if you like. It's not like..."

Biting your own tongue, you wondered if it was the new drug combo he tried on you that made you feel especially irritated with his feelings that day. You let him do all this stuff to and with you, but now you were getting weirded out by it? It wasn't like you to get so worked up over him; you were more of the cool type, spitting-in-his-face-type if he pissed you off. You didn't even want to validate his feelings for you, but also... being self-aware enough to know you were a danger to humankind, you couldn't shake the feeling he might just be using you for his own sick desires. And that made you angry again. You'd not be a pawn or a means for no one.

Click

"Wow, okay, you bastard." Your grumbling fell on deaf ears as he turned off the microphone. "Sure, I'm going through something here, but by all means, stop listening. Not like it's your job or anything..."

Unprepared, you jolted back as the door to your cell suddenly yanked open, revealing the pitch-black corridor that lay behind. Apparently, it was late at night, but you couldn't focus on that as your doctor appeared from the shadows, a deep frown etched into his beautiful face. He should have been a model. At least that job wouldn't have led him to meet you.

"Do you doubt me?" he asked, stalking forward, undeterred by the open door, not thinking for a second that you'd try to escape. "Do I need a reason to love you for you to believe it?"

He caught your chin between his fingers, tilting your head back as he matched the steps you were taking backward. Soon, you'd run out of space to back into, but perhaps that was his goal. 

"Can't I just love you because the first time you caved in and told me about the things you went through, things just felt... right? Everything just clicked in my head, and I thought, "Wow, I want to see them happy!" Must there be any other reason for me to love you?"

Your back hit the wall just as his eyes lowered to your lips, his thumb reaching up to brush over them. "I dream about those lips. I can't help but think about you no matter where I go. In the evening, I imagine you curled up on the couch next to me; sometimes, I hear your laugh when you aren't even there. I want that picture-perfect life with you, but the moment I step into your room and see you covered in blood, your eyes showing just how far gone you are, it just..."

He looked up again, his eyes swirling with all the emotions he tried to convey in his words. But when he met your gaze, the color drained, leaving behind what you could only describe as pure, unfiltered madness.

"It drives me insane."

His second hand raised to the side of your face. He cupped your cheek in his palm for a moment, a soft smile creeping over his lips. "I like you like this. Docile, calm, sweet. I like it when you ask me things, I like it when you beg for something. I like it when you only let me do things to you. I want to help you, I do! But..."

His hand sliding down, you looked away, trying to catch it before it slipped around your throat, pressing into it, squeezing so hard you felt as if your head was going to detach from your neck.

"I want to ruin you. I want you worse, I want you deranged. I want you to kill everyone and then me, so I'll be the last of your victims, the only one you remember. I want to be ruined by you so badly that every day, I hope you tell me about yet another staff member we get to kill, and then you can use me to satisfy your needs. Can't you understand? This is love. No one will ever love someone like you, but. I. do. I understand you, I care for you. And I will continue to do so, with no other reason than I love you. I love you so much."

You gasped for air at this point, fingers grabbing his arm. It was hard listening to him, but it was harder to breathe. You knew he wouldn't kill you. This was nothing compared to other things you two did to each other. It stung a little when he said no one else would ever love you, but he was right. Not unless the change everyone expected from you was also something you wanted. 

But why would you?

The pressure on your throat disappeared, only for your breath to be stolen by his kiss. You hated this man. You hated him because he was a little bit too much like you. Too unhinged to be likable. And at the same time, he wasn't at all. He was too supportive, too nice, too forgiving. It disgusted you, honestly. Yet, you reciprocated, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. Before he could back off, you caught his cheeks in a squeeze between your fingers to draw him back to lick off the red fluid, reminding him he wasn't the deranged one here. 

"Don't question me again about my feelings, please," he asked, out of breath, too, as he bumped his forehead against yours. "I love you, I really do."

"You're a sicko, you know that? And your beard is stinging me, you should shave."

At this, he laughed out loud, raising his head to the ceiling. "I spent three days waiting for you to wake up. You can deal with some stubble."

"No, I don't like it."

Grinning, he lowered his face to you and gave you another peck on the lips. "It's gone tomorrow, I promise."

"Can I go back to my room now?"

He hummed thoughtfully before shaking his head. "Someone's awaiting their punishment still. You really want to miss out on that?"

Now it was your turn to grin as well. "Aww, you shouldn't have! Are we gonna cut up that bitch now? For real?"

"Anything for you," he mumbled, raising your hand to give it a quick smooch. "But let me change your bandages first. I don't want you to accidentally get sepsis if your wounds are still open."

"Surprisingly, you're still a doctor at heart."

"That's not true," he gasped, feigning indignation about your statement.

"Are you not?" you asked, watching him bend down to pick you up, bridal-style even. You weren't mad since your legs felt even weaker than before, and you really wanted to conserve your energy. 

"I'm afraid it's no longer medicine that has claimed my heart."

He looked at you, smiling softly. "It's all you."

"And I can't help but love you more, realizing I am becoming more like you every day."

#yandere doctor #yandere!doctor #yandere therapist #yandere!therapist #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW

[comradekatara]

i read somewhere that, after the war, zuko at least hands hama over to the swt instead of keeping her in fire nation prisons 'till the end of her life. Which is nice, I think. But I'm also curious as to how that would work out.

Most notably: how do you think it'd go down if she were to meet Pakku? given they both have some sort of connection to kanna's life, the idea of them being forced to interact even once entertains me very much. like, old waterbending master pakku—white lotus member—who has grown up in a patriarchal society and actively forbidden women from training to fight, under the precedent they are somehow ontologically weaker, fragile, and belonging in the healing huts... THAT guy, meeting his former fiancé's old friend: (or current wife's if you go by canon, which, eugh) A woman who not only fought in the front lines but ended up becoming one of the most skilled, creative, and deadly waterbenders in history. How would he react when finding out that a woman came up with blood bending? How badly would Hama mind-fuck him?? Because I'm confident they'd hate each other's guts-- no way she'd tolerate him,,,

And on a similar note—how would Kanna feel upon reuniting wirh Hama and discovering what she put Katata through, in your opinion? Idk, I'm just full of puppetmaster thoughts today. Hama is incredibly interesting and I wish she wasn't handled so much like a Halloween Specisl creepy witch, (even though katara herself is handled and written pretty well in this episode, i think. but i digress.)

i mean obviously i think about this all the time. i personally think that zuko hands hama over to the swt upon katara's request, and she and aang personally deliver her on appa (sokka is not there, for the very deliberate reason that if he knew what they were doing he would very vocally disapprove). and so katara is sort of retraumatizing herself by doing this, but she also feels like it's necessary specifically because she needs to be able to look hama in the eye and tell her why they're not actually the same (especially now that she actually did bloodbend someone in cold blood). katara has the love and support and safety to step back from her anger and her pain and her grief and hang onto her own humanity and allow herself to be the bigger person even in moments of abject rage and acute trauma, and hama doesn't. hama is a victim of her circumstance, and that's part of what makes her so uniquely terrifying to katara, because katara has that same capacity to make people hurt, she has the same tools at her disposal, and she has the same justifications to exercise that power. but unlike hama, she hasn't actually been pushed past her limits. sometimes she can see the cliff's edge, and sometime she even teeters on the line, but hama was fully just shoved off without a parachute, and that's really what separates them above all. i think katara should be allowed to acknowledge that and forgive herself for that, even if hama doesn't directly apologize to her (although in my mind she does, and it's not enough, but it's also so much more than katara ever expected to hear). even if it is too late for hama, katara deserves to heal.

frankly, i don't really give a shit about pakku or his reaction to hama. i also don't actually think that he thinks woman are ontologically incapable of being talented waterbenders of whatever; he's a pretty worldly guy, the reason he clings to these traditions isn't born of the belief that they're grounded in logical evidence like sokka's is, it's because he believes in the preservation of a system that benefits and valorizes him. pakku thinks katara belongs in the healing huts because he comes from a culture that dictates that women belong in the healing huts. like, he might also subscribe to the bioessentialist logic that women are better healers and men are being fighters, but that honestly doesn't really matter, because (unlike sokka) his epiphany lies not in the fact that woman can fight, but in the fact that his role in upholding these systems has actively driven his loved ones away due to his cruelty. he decides to be kinder, to women and in general, because he realizes that being an asshole has negative consequences. but frankly, who cares what he thinks of hama. realizing that your sister tribe in the south deserves aid and protection after being subjected to a century of genocide is kind of too little too late imo. unlike katara, sokka, aang, or kanna, who can approach this situation from the perspective of being a genocide survivor who even remotely understands hama's trauma, pakku really has no place in this conversation to me.

as for kanna...... god. hama/kanna reunion is genuinely one of the most heart-wrenching concepts to me in all of atla. as a sidenote, hama/kanna fanfic goes so hard every time. there's a total of like 15 fanfics for them on ao3 (last i checked) but they're all sooooooo. fucking delicious. tide locked........... ugh. anyway. i cannot fathom kanna's reaction upon learning that her closest friend once upon a time is not only alive, but also a convicted felon, for crimes including but not limited to manipulating her granddaughter, violating her (and sokka's) bodily autonomy in cruel and perverse ways, and forcing her to participate in that mode of violence in a way that traumatized her forever. even if you don't read them as former lovers (although it is indubitably better that way) it's so gut-churning. kanna lost so many people over the course of her life, and to learn that one of them has returned but in the worst way possible must be mind-boggling and distinctly unreal. like how do you even process that. first, how do you process how much pain she must have went through to become the kind of person who is capable of doing this, and then, how do you process the knowledge that the person you once loved most in the world irreparably hurt the person you now love most in the world? obviously she would always prioritize katara's safety over anyone else's no matter what, but god. kanna has led such a fascinating and impossibly difficult life, and it's not over yet.

#kallianthi #asks #analysis #postwargaang #hama #katara #pakku #kanna #hamaxkanna #hama&katara #also i didn't mention it in the post itself bc i've talked about it before but yeah i very much agree that i wish hama had been framed #differently because i do feel like making her into a cackling witch kind of undermines the whole point of the episode #she's someone who is deserving of our empathy and understanding despite her violence and by reducing her into a caricature #we lose that nuance #but otherwise it's such a fascinating episode.... #kataraaa.... katara i love you katara <33333

[terry-perry]

Just Business?

Pairing: Alastor x Carmine!Reader

Part 2 to this imagine

Technically Part 3 if you wish to include these headcanons

Requested by @lokis-imaginary-friend: If you’re not averse to it I had a thought while reading this….what if y/n overheard this conversation and feels as though she’s being treated as a transaction. Idk I could just see some angst coming from this for y/n followed by whatever fluff you come up with.

Additional tags: @martinys-world

Fluff will come in a later chapter (hopefully). Enjoy!

You walked home with a spring in your step. You were happy to find the perfect set of pajamas for your boyfriend. Alastor didn't require much sleep, based on the nights you spent together and he'd spend most of them watching you, lurking among the swamp in his room, or tending to the hotel. Regardless, you knew he wanted to look his best even at more casual hours like bedtime. It was great then that you found the red silk pajamas that were perfect for him, especially since you found a matching robe that reminded you of his regular attire.

It'd been about six months since you'd been together and things were going well. Now that things were public too, you enjoyed your time more freely. The fact you two were going out interested many people, with gossip of it being all over the news. Thankfully, the paparazzi weren't stupid enough to film your dates. They must've heard the screams of that one photographer who was bold enough to sneak a photo of you on a picnic date by the Lake of Fire. Alastor was sure to broadcast his torment over a rendition of La Vie En Rose as a reminder not to intrude on your alone time.

You knew the kind of man/demon Alastor was before you became a couple. You heard the stories as well as his broadcasts. You were there during the sudden disappearances of various overlords and how it coincided with said broadcasts. No sane sinner would want to risk getting involved with someone like him. Due to how more curious than afraid of him you were and how touched and important you felt whenever Alastor threatened others who disrespected you, you had an inkling that your sanity wasn't all there. That was okay with you; you were already in Hell.

Your mother approved of him as did your sisters, which resulted in another reason you grew to love him. He enjoyed spending time with your family, too, judging from how he'd come to dinner, joke with Clara and Odette, and share light pleasantries with Carmilla. You could see they were really warming up to him and vice versa.

You might not have tamed the beast, but it certainly amazed you how much of him you got to have for yourself. It was almost too good to be true.

You were finally home after spending some time at the mall. You don't know why your mother needed you out of the house but you didn't question it. She was sometimes wary of those who did business with the family and would rather let herself handle things. If she was still talking with them, you'd do your best to sneak into your room.

Upon entering the manor, however, you heard your mother say some things that made your ears perk up:

"You won't do anything unless you know it'll benefit you. It's why you're with my daughter in the first place, right?"

Her daughter? Who exactly was she talking about, and to whom? Her voice was coming from the library it seemed. You did your best to creep over and stood outside to hear more. What came next was certainly a shock:

"Y/N is quite a lovely lady with a certain sweetness and intelligence that I find endearing. If she so happens to come from a powerful family, then who am I to not want to get closer to someone who can mean a lot to me?"

You felt sick to your stomach just then. What was that; did you hear that correctly? He made it sound like you were just a pet to him - a mere plaything with a purpose.

A humiliating desire to cry swept through you, along with a small hope that your mother would put him in his place. She wouldn't take someone using her daughter lightly.

"If I were you, I'd do the same, I suppose,"

Now that's what brought out the tears.

What the hell was going on?

"You'll continue to treat her well. You'll continue to meet her, talk with her, and if it gets to that point, marry her."

Breathing became difficult as this unexpected betrayal weighed on your broken heart. Was this all just a plan between Alastor and your mother? Was this all a big matchmaking con that would lead to good benefits for them?

"You're smart enough to know that you should treat this like any other transaction."

You never thought your mother would have the gall to sacrifice your happiness for business purposes. She was always the type to lay her life on the line for you and your sisters. She did just that during the last Extermination Day when facing a team of Exorcists. To hear that the woman you grew up admiring treated you like a piece of property was too much to handle.

Let's not forget about Alastor! You actually believed he cared about you. Were all those times you went out on lunch and dinner dates, spent time with each other's loved ones, and shared intimate dances just part of a ruse to get you to fall for him? The fact you were nothing but entertainment with benefits saddened and embarrassed you because what everyone said about him was right.

You were right; this was all just too good to be true.

You now were fueled with anger and decided to use it to confront the two traitors.

"A transaction?"

Upon hearing your voice, Carmilla and Alastor turned towards the doorway where you stood defiantly with the Carmine glare on your face. Your normally well-composed mother expressed more worry than you ever saw her with. Meanwhile, Alastor kept his large grin as usual, but you could tell he was shocked due to how big his eyes were, and it almost looked too painful for him to smile.

"Y/N-"

"Is that all I am to the two of you?" You asked, blinking back tears. "A business deal - just a prize to be won? Is that why you needed me out of the house Mom? To discuss my dowry?"

Carmilla's astonishment kept her from speaking. She wanted to explain that this was simply a way to assure you a good future if you continued things with Alastor and that no harm would come to you, but she was at a loss for words seeing how betrayed you looked.

"And you Alastor!" You rounded on him next. The man you loved for half a year but now don't even know what to make of him. He's practically a stranger now. "I knew you weren't a saint, but I didn't think you'd stoop so low as to only date me for my family. I can't believe you'd use me like that!"

"Y/N," he began, getting out of his seat to go towards you with more emotion than you ever saw him, even with his smile remaining. "Sweetheart, you misunderstand -"

"You saw me as nothing but a prize," you uttered quietly, backing away from him with your head down. "You already have connections to the throne, so it's best to protect it with your connection to the biggest collection of weapons in Hell, right?"

His silence spoke to you more than any clever words he could conjure up for you. His silence spoke the truth.

You didn't stay much longer, especially since neither could bother to give you a proper response. You ran out of the house, ignoring their pleas to stay. You needed to get away and reflect on everything.

Alone.

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor imagine #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor fanfiction #hazbin alastor x reader #imagine #request #sequel fic #carmilla carmine #x reader #angst #carmine!reader #hazbin #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor

[x0xomady]

sex, drugs, etc.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

summary: it’s 1980 and harry styles is the biggest rockstar around. life is full of drugs, music, and girls. that is until he meets his flower.

warnings: drugs abuse, smut, cursing, pet names, degradation, alcohol. 18+

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

show today. show tomorrow. shows everyday.

that’s all life is. one big fucking show.

sure this is the life i wanted. i have all the drugs i could need, sex every night, and better yet i’m making music i love.

it’s just all so damn tiring.

i haven’t been able to sleep for more than 4 hours in months. there’s always another girl and another line i’m chasing.

here we go…

i grab my red electric guitar and walk out on stage. immediately the stadium erupts in chants and cheers. but i don’t care.

there’s girls flashing me, people jumping around, my band mates playing loudly. everything is overwhelming as hell.

the show goes by quickly. i zone in and before i know it we’re walking off stage.

i probably have dissociation problems or something but… it’s like when i’m on stage… i’m not even there mentally.

i’m not anywhere mentally. i’m always in my head

when the band started a few years ago it was so different. everything was so exciting and new. i was so into it at every who no matter what. now i’m lucky if im not absolutely wasted on stage.

i walk down the halls of the backstage completely out of it. there’s people slapping me on the back, handing me shit, and girls asking for a hookup.

i should probably say yes to one of them.

my thoughts are starting to get out of hand when i feel another, smaller, body run into mine.

“oh! i’m so so so sorry!” the small girl stumbles back and blushes brightly at me.

i’m about to cuss her out and glare, when i notice how cute she is. this girl couldn’t be taller than 5’6, she was wearing a little pink frilly skirt and a white tank top.

however, i’ve seen this before. slutty girls going around dressing all innocent and sweet so that guys will be into them. i have experienced my fair share of fake innocent girls.

“where you heading flower?” i smirk down at the girl. she was looking up at me nervously. a faint blush was painting her cheeks and neck. cute.

“o-oh! you’re harry from the band?” she asked with a worried look on her face. i watched her manicured fingers clutch the little notebook she was holding tightly.

“that’s me. who might you be?”

“i’m y/n! i was hired to interview you- and uh-” she stuttered as i leaned down a little to hear her better. “i would really like the chance to talk to you… if right now doesn’t work- i can find another time!”

fucking media girl. should’ve known. i would usually flip them off and walk away, but i’ve never met one this attractive. i couldn’t help the way my eyes wandered from her fluttery doe eyes down to her lips. she was wearing sparkly lipgloss and i just wanted to have a taste.

“now is fine.” i nod at her and smirk while watching her eyes widen and a small smile spread across her lips.

“oh that’s great thank you!” she had a sweet little smile on her lips that was tempting me.

i nod and start walking to my dressing room. i can hear her little kitten heels tapping lightly behind me.

we walk into my dressing room. there is a black couch in the middle and a rack of clothes on the side. i have a bottle of whiskey on the table and some pill bottles that my band mates must have left there.

i turn back towards y/n and see her nervous little eyes search around the room. she follows me so obediently it’s adorable.

“sit flower” i nod and her to sit on the couch. hesitantly she sits down on the black leather couch. she clutches her notebook closely and looks up at me nervously with those big doe eyes.

“s-so… harry… um can i start by asking you a few questions?” y/n asks. poor thing. she was so nervous. i can see the little pink splotches across her smooth skin.

“ask away pretty girl”

she clears her throat and sits up looking at me. “so… what’s your favorite song of the album, and why is it your favorite?”

“i like ‘kiwi’ a lot” i shrug and allow my eyes to wander her delicate little body.

“kiwi? i love that song!” she smiles sweetly and writes down in her little pink notebook.

i smirk and nod. “thanks flower. i’m glad someone so sweet looking like you likes such a dirty song.”

y/n instantly blushes but tries to brush it off as if it was nothing. she sits up a little more and looks back up at me. “o-okay. and what is you play guitar correct?”

“right. i play guitar, piano, and bass.” i nod at her and lean back against the couch.

“wow three? that’s so impressive.” she smiles sweetly at me. fuck. “and what’s your favorite of those three?”

“electric guitar probably.” i shrug and take a swig out of my whiskey bottle. she writes down in her little notebook and continues asking questions.

for the next 10 minutes y/n asks me about my music interests, inspirations, and other typical interviewer questions.

if i’m being completely honest my answers were total bullshit. i was so caught up in staring at her that i was just kind of saying whatever came to mind.

y/n has the most gorgeous little face i’ve ever seen. her lips looked fucking delicious. i just wanted to-

“harry? are you alright?” i snap out of my daydream when i hear her sweet little voice asking me a question.

no. i want to fuck you.

“yeah i’m fine. what was the question?” i ask looking back up at her fluttery eyelashes and big eyes.

“oh i was just asking how your dating life is on tour. it must be hard to connect with someone if you are constantly traveling to different cities.”

“my dating life hm? it’s just fine.” i shrug and lean forward resting on my arms on my knees.

“so do you have a girlfriend at the moment?” aww she is so naive. her little purple pen writing down every word i say as she looks at me with interest.

“i don’t no. but i do have a pretty little interviewer sitting in front of me” i smirk and lean forward towards her.

y/n’s eyes instantly widen and her face turns a light pink. she looks absolutely speechless at my comment.

“o-oh. uh” she stutters and looks at me nervously.

“hm? you like it when i compliment you flower?” i smile and look at her in the eyes.

“harry- ”

“yes pretty girl?”

“what are you- ”

“i’m just trying to talk to you. is that okay?” i smile innocently.

“yeah…” i see a small smile tug on the corners of her glossy lips.

“good come here.” i sigh and lean back against the couch. my hand makes a motion telling her to walk over to me.

y/n looks hesitant at first but she nervously walks over to me and stands a few feet in front of me.

i reach my hands up and grab her hips gently. she blushes wildly and stands there unsure.

“what in the world is a delicate little thing like you doing at a place like this?” i say while my eyes drag down her body. that white tank top was doing nothing to hide her body from me.

“i- im just here for an interview- ” she stutters out and gasps quietly when i pull her so she’s standing in between my legs.

“that’s it? just an interview? you don’t want anything else flower?” i smirk.

she nods hesitantly and stands there as i squeeze her hips gently.

“mm but i could give you so much more. don’t ya want something?” i say looking up at her.

“j-just an interview” she nods and looks at me nervously.

i nod and trail my hands from her hips to her slender waist. “so can i have something from you?”

“what do you want from me?” she asks unsure.

“i want a kiss”

y/ns face drops slightly and her eyes widen. “y-you want a kiss from me?!”

“course i do.” i shrug and continue leaning back while admiring her. “come on flower… just give me one kiss.”

y/n takes a deep breath before leaning forward and giving me a cute little peck. she pulls away quickly blushing brightly and looking flustered as ever.

i smile and put a hand on her head bringing her back to kiss me again. i deepen the kiss, wrapping y/n closer to me and slowly pulling her onto my lap.

y/n let’s out a little gasp of shock when i pull her so she’s straddling my lap. her hands grip my shoulder for support as i wrap an arm around her waist.

“such soft pretty lips.” i mumble and push my thumb against her lips softly. “can i do something for you flower?”

y/n nods quietly and watches me carefully as i grab her hips again.

as soon as i get the confirmation i pick her up and lay her on her back against the couch. y/n lets an adorable little sigh leave her lips as i kneel in between her legs.

i lean forward so i’m hovering over her. y/n puts her hands in my hair and pulls my head down to kiss her again. i moan against her lips and adjust my arm so im holding her hip and jaw tightly.

y/n moans softly as i kiss down her jaw and along her neck. “h-harry”

“yeah?” i smirk and kiss her collar bone softly. goosebumps fill her skin as my kisses make their way from her jaw to collarbones.

“i-i need you to” she hesitates and looks at me nervously.

“hm? what is it you need pretty girl?” i smile knowing damn well what she wants from me. “i can’t read your mind y/n… gonna need you to tell me what you want.”

she breathes a little heavier and blushes from the eye contact i make with her while kissing her chest and collarbone. “i want you…”

that’s it

“yeah? need me? well if you want me that bad then who am i to deny such a gorgeous girl.”

i waste no time in reconnecting our lips while pushing my hand down to her little skirt. y/n moans softly against my lips as i rub her waist gently and kiss her one last time.

“gonna let me take this cute little skirt off?” i smirk and kiss her neck again.

“yes… please harry…” she whines softly as i suck a little mark on her neck.

“oh if you insist flower.” i say grinning against her neck. my hands desperately tug down her flouncy skirt. i shove it down her legs and throw it to the side. underneath is a cute little pair of pink panties. my mouth instantly waters at the sight.

y/n blushes wildly and closes her legs nervously.

“oh nuh uh. none of that.” i tut and grab both of her knees pulling her legs apart. i can see the sweet little outline of her lips underneath that pink lace and it makes my knees weeek.

y/n laid there nervously as the intimidating rockstar stared at her most delicate parts with a hungry gaze.

“fucking need you flower…” i moan and lean my head against her knee. “gonna let me?”

y/n hesitated for a moment but then nodded eagerly as i leaned against her thigh.

i smirk and kiss her thigh. the kisses lean from her knee down to that sweet little pink lace. continuing to keep eye contact with the media girl underneath me, i pressed a gentle kiss to her clit. the lacy material did nothing to shield the feeling on her little button throbbing for me.

immediately i kiss her in that spot again but a little harder. y/n tries to close her legs again out of sensitivity but my hands hold her thighs apart.

after a few more kisses to that dainty little fabric, i hook my fingers in the waist band and tug the pink lace down to her ankles.

i look to y/n for consent once more i wait until she nods. as soon as i see that nod im on her. my fingers spread her apart as i press kisses along her slit and puffy little clit.

y/n gasps and moans softly as her legs squeeze my head tightly.

my fingers run along her slit as i wrap my lips around her throbbing button. i wait until she’s dripping before i nudge my first finger into her hole.

“damn it flower. you’re so fucking tight how is this possible?” i groan and pump my middle finger in and out of her pussy slowly.

“please harry- need more!” y/n moans desperately and tightens her legs around harry’s curly head.

as soon as i hear those pretty whines leave her mouth i add my second finger to her wet cunt.

y/n’s orgasm doesn’t take long to arrive. after a few minutes of sucking against her clit and pumping her full of my fingers she starts clenching hard.

“how’s it this tight? fucking he’ll flower” i groan against her and continue sucking harshly.

with the stimulations from my mouth and hand i feel her clench tightly and cum around my head.

i smirk up at her and get up from my spot between her legs.

y/n whines from the loss of stimulation between her legs which just makes my grin grow even more.

“aww poor baby. want me to fuck you?” she nods and wraps her legs around my hips. “and her i thought you were an innocent little flower. guess i was wrong”

she moans softly as i grab my cock and press the head against her clit. i look up at her as i run the head from the tip to the bottom of her weepy hole.

“harry please” she whines and pushes her hips against mine.

without warning i start easing the head past her entrance. “fucking hell- tightest pussy i’ve ever felt.” i moan and push my hips to the hilt. the feeling of her squeezing me is euphoric as i reconnect our lips.

“move please harry- please move” y/n moans and presses her hips up to mine.

i grab her hips and start moving in and out of her hard. my hand down snakes down her soft skin until i reach her little button.

“cmon flower i want you to give me another one.” i moan into her neck as i thrust up into her cunt quickly.

y/n moans desperately and fucks her hips up against mine as i thrust quickly.

i grab her hips roughly and flip her onto her stomach. y/n pushes her hips up to mine. “yes! please harry more!” she moans pathetically as i slam my way back into her tight cunt.

“so fucking dirty.” i groan as i snap my hips into hers. “here i thought you were some innocent little media girl.” i smirk and thrust against her hard.

“g-gonna cum!” she moans into the couch pillow as i rub her clit quickly.

“yeah? good girl. cum for me.” i thrust into her one more time before she tightens like a vice around me.

“fucking milking me aren’t you? fuck.” i groan and pull out. my hand wraps around my cock and i tug it quickly using her juices. my release hits me quickly as my cum paints her soft thighs.

the two of us sit there panting for a minute before i wipe my forehead and look back up at her.

“still got that little journal of yours?”

“yeah.” she nods and hands me the pink note book and purple pen.

i smirk and write my phone number on the first page.

“Call me flower”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

love my rockstar bf

-xoxo ⋆⭒˚.⋆

#harry styles smut #harry styles #one direction #harry edward styles #dom harry styles #x0xomady #wattpad #fanfiction #sub!harry #fluffy #harry styles x reader

[vsaintsin]

Writeblr Re-Intro

Yo! I'm V Saintsin. Or V or Vin or Saintsin or whatever you want to call me that sounds right on your tongue. I'm a self-proclaimed Social Media fumbler who got a late start to the party and has never quite figured it out. I hate how hipster and edgy it sounds to say "I'm bad at social media" but like I used to work with some people who actually managed the social media accounts for the business we worked for and there were rules and whatnot and damn, I think online media is just not my medium. That being said, here I am! Hah

I'm an author and general mess who's hoping to be the miracle man (somebody who makes a living writing silly little stories). I do use a pseudonym but please hear me out when I say I didn't realize how edgy it sounds, it just has some sentimental value to my personal life. I'm so sorry that I sound like I'm in my emo phase HAHA

About me -

He/Him Transguy from the American Midwest (arguably the south, depending on who you talk to, but the older people still say "Sodi-pop" and "ope").

I'm dysautonomic, bendy, permanently sleepy, and a survivor of Crappy Doctors Who Suck At Doctoring.

I like DnD, Pathfinder, Baldur's Gate 3, Cyberpunk, Dragon Age, and other things in that vein.

I do make art of my stories and characters (Tablet is currently not working so I'm in a dry spell).

My writing background is predominantly ancient, dusty RPs from as far back as the foopets days and fanfic writing on Quizilla - I am an old and wizened elder of the net.

My formal education was music performance and behavioral neuroscience, I don't really know how I got where I am.

This is not my first rodeo with tumblr but it is the first time I have anything to SAY instead of just lurking.

In the event of malfunction, you can put me outside for 5 minutes and I'll probably factory reset.

My existence as I know it hinges on a massive number of sticky notes plastered throughout my room.

What I'm lookin' for -

Idk, whatever? I'm down for most things. Did you write it? Cool, let me see. I'm not too bent on genre or anything, just fascinated by the art of storytelling.

A bit tentative with fanfiction but that's just because if it's not a fandom I'm familiar with I am rather clueless about what the hell is going on and if it's a fandom I am familiar with I HUNT DOWN THE DEEP LORE.

I like art a whole lot, including fanart. Also art advice, love seeing things from different perspectives and learning something new.

Mutuals, really, for any reason. Building better connections on here, getting to know people. I am hideously bad at this but I try.

What I write -

Science Fiction with heavy subjects that matter to me - trigger warnings on a story-by-story basis.

High Fantasy (eventually books I think?) characters and their backgrounds for DnD and Pathfinder - I have been tempted to share these to help people get ideas or just for free use?

Things that I delete because I have crippling imposter syndrome and publishing makes me nauseous (doin' it tho).

Stories that I hope will make people feel less alone or that people could relate to, stories that I wish I had when life was worse and I was reaching out for anything I could find to keep me afloat, stories that try to be critical of things that SUCK in a way that's any helpful.

Lots of curse words and cussing (that's just how people talk 'round here), dubious science, things that I hope might make you cry but in a good way though.

Character-Driven stories that revolve more around the development of the person and less around the plot itself if that makes sense.

I've put blurb things below for my primary project/series which features a grumpy, queer, 37-year old chain smoking Frenchman and his misadventures with life and love and unbridled rage. If any of that sounds cool stick around and hang out? (This part is a plug bc I did a thing and I'm proud of it) And if my books sounds interesting the first one is 99 cents on Kindle and you just need a phone and a free app to read it!

THE SECRET OF LIFE (Published) - Sci-Fi/Psychological Thriller, Bi M Lead, Lovers to Enemies, AI but the oldschool cool kind not the real world thing that's stealing our future

Carlisle-Trystan Antoinette is a mercenary on a hard road, navigating life and death itself in an infinite cycle started by powers above his understanding. He has one mission - warn The Dianican Space Station of the coming threat and put a stop to a war that would encapsulate the whole of the Sol System before it can ever begin. Unfortunately for Carlisle, reality is a tenuous thing, made up only by our understanding of it. At least, according to his Psychiatrist, who tells him that there is no war, that he was never a mercenary, and that what Carlisle is experiencing is a severe but manageable psychotic break. Stripped of his combat enhancements, his bio monitor, and everything he's every known, Carlisle has a decision to make. Does he give in to the thoughts and memories, so real that he can almost taste them, or does he live a life of comfort and ease, returning to a husband and daughter that he left behind?

TWs: Domestic and War Violence, suicide, rape, medical trauma, grief, drug use

THE SILENCE OF ANGELS (Due July '24, TSoL 2) - Betrayal and Rage, Learning how to love again slow-burn romantic subplot, Learning how to Dad, A general inability for any one thing to just go right

(Quick Rough Blurb that offers no spoilers for TSoL) Making connections isn't easy for somebody who's accustomed to burning bridges. Isolation has always been Carlisle's mantra for surviving his life. Playing a role comes second nature, pretending to be the man that everyone else wants to see in him. When an old friend is murdered Carlisle finds himself as the primary suspect with all evidence pointing to him so clearly that even he calls to question what he is capable of. Unwilling to believe that he could commit such a heinous crime, Carlisle sets off to find the truth of his friend's death - was Carlisle framed or does he truly have the capacity to bring such harm upon those he loves? Old and new bonds will be tested, faith broken, and the future of everyone called into question as lines are drawn and sides are picked.

TWs: Violence, mentions of SA, graphic character death, more grief, more death

I don't know what else to say... Later!

#booklr #lgbt fiction #writeblr #writeblr intro #authors

[soberqueerinthewild]

I’ve written about this a lot before but it bears reiterating now.

I’ve seen some takes that essentially say Taylor was callous because she broke up with Joe because he “couldn’t get over his depression” and how cruel that is when she said she loves him.

And I think that a lot of the people who think that are identifying with Joe, and empathizing with him and suffering from a version of somewhat understandable main character syndrome. I see this a lot in advice on how to be there for someone struggling with their mental health. It says things like “keep reaching out even if they ignore you. They appreciate it.” “Keep inviting them to do things even if they say no” “Continue letting them know you are there for them to talk to even if they repeatedly shut you out.” And I’m not saying this is bad advice, but it makes it sound like there is one person who struggles with their mental health surrounded by supporting characters who are 100% healthy and able to give an endless supply of emotional energy and that they never have mental health struggles that are impacted by this. (My mental health for instance tanks when I reach out over and over and get rejected because I feel like no one likes me)

From what I can tell from her music (which by the way is the only indication we have that Joe struggles with his mental health, so if we are accepting that premise we need to accept everything else she says about it) Taylor followed a lot of this advice for a long time.

Years of labor locks and ceilings

Pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away

Always rising from the ashes

There was nowhere for me to stay but I stayed anyways

And she tried and tried until it was having a hugely detrimental impact on her mental health which she relates

She discusses how she had to revert into a dream world because of the impact of it:

I dreamed about it in the dark the night I felt like I might die

She talks about how holding on to the relationship made her feel:

I know my pain was such an imposition

My white-knuckle dying grip holding tight to your quiet resentment

My spine split from carrying us up the hill

Wet through my clothes weary bones caught the chill

She had a huge amount of anxiety about the relationship so much that her friends noticed how it was impacting her

My friends say it isn’t right to be scared every day of a love affair

My friends tried but I wouldn’t hear it/watched me daily disappearing

She got to the point where she wasn’t sure he even wanted her

Every breath feels like rarest air/When you’re not sure if he wants to be there

Is it really your anxiety that keeps you from giving me everything or do you just not want to

I wouldn’t marry me either

Her mental health was deteriorating, so if Joe deserved a partner that would support him when his mental health was struggling, doesn’t Taylor? There’s no evidence that he was able to give that to her and she felt very misunderstood by him

My face was gray but you wouldn’t admit that we were sick

How can you say you love someone you can’t tell is dying

You never read into my melancholia

Nobody noticed my new aesthetic

You say you don’t understand and I say I know you don’t

He don’t understand me

A pathological people pleaser/who only wanted you to see her

Why is his mental health considered more important than hers? One person doesn’t get to call dibs on being the one with mental health problems while the other person is assigned to be the supporting character forever.

It’s also clear she had hopes and dreams for a future that involved marriage and kids that he couldn’t or wouldn’t give her. So should she should give those up so as not to leave her partner who is depressed and be labeled a bad person?

It isn’t his fault that he’s depressed but Taylor clearly has mental health struggles too and one is not more important to the other. They were unable to be good partners to each other due to this, so ending it was the right thing. Were there better ways to do it, yes! But she was clearly struggling so incredibly much that I for one, will give her grace and understanding

#taylor swift #mental health #tw sucidal ideation

[maybege]

What If - Part 3

Summary: The more you get to know Paz Vizsla, the more you fall for him.

Pairing: alpha!Paz Vizsla x omega!fem!Reader

Wordcount: 5.8k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, explicit sexual content, size kink (Paz is big-big), semi-public sex, thigh riding, cockwarming, dirty talk, idiots in love

Whoop whoop! Another weekend, another part! This is, technically, part 2.2 with some more smut, some fluff, some idiots in love and a very special adorable guest star that could not miss if we want to talk about Paz in S3. Thank you so much to everyone who wrote a comment or reblogged the story so far, I really appreciate it and I hope that you enjoy this part too. The next (and last) part will be out either next week or the week after, just because I need to channel all the angst lol

Again: Just a little reminder, that this is not strictly adhering to canon and I am just roughly imagining what actually happened during these episodes.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

You woke up alone the next morning, the sun already high in the sky. It was later than usual but you felt so blissed out, you could not really bring yourself to care. Your entire body felt deliciously exhausted and as you stretched your arms over your head, letting out a big yawn, you realized that you had slept better in this stranger’s (though could still call Paz Vizsla a stranger now?) bed than in the last few years in your own cot.

There was a fresh bowl of fruit on the desk and this time you did not hesitate to devour the tasty berries which you knew he had meant for you. The sheer fact alone that Paz Vizsla had organized breakfast for you made your heart race.

The sun was out in full force by the time you left the ship. You could see people milling about, carrying crates this and that way and for a moment you felt bad that you had slept the day away instead of helping.

But then you thought about how your job for these few days was to be a calmer. And if your alpha (yours) was calm and happy and made your heart skip a beat, then you had done your job by keeping the peace and prolonging Axe Wove’s life for yet another day.

Rounding the ship to get to the inventory, you passed by another ramp, this one almost completely abandoned except for a small figure that huddled at the entrance. When you came close enough, you realised it was a child. Still helmeted with the same blue as Paz’s clan, but certainly a child if the frail shoulders and little hands were anything to go by.

For a moment, you hesitated. You didn’t know what it was like in their clan but in yours, it was rare to see a foundling on their own and even rarer to leave them on their own if they were upset. So you approached him.

“Hi,” you greeted the child sitting, “You okay?”

You could hear sniffles under his helmet and your heart broke. Clearly, they were not okay.

“Yeah,” the boy mumbled, turning away from you, “Go away.”

Forgotten were the happy activities of last night and the way Paz Vizsla could make you smile even in his absence. “Were – do you maybe want to talk to one of the elders of your tribe?”

He shook his head fervently.

“Sometimes it helps me to speak about it with a friend,” you suggested lightly, “Do you have a friend you want to talk to? I could get them if you like?”

“I don’t need your help,” he spat suddenly and you recognized the hurt in his voice, your mouth grimacing at the pain he must feel. And you were not about to abandon a hurt child, no matter how angry they might be.

True to your feelings, it did not take long before he spoke up. His voice was much softer than before.

“They said I could not be a good Mandalorian because –“ he shook his head again, folding his arms over his knees.

“Because?” you asked carefully, debating whether any of the clans might be offended if you consoled this child. But in the end, you decided, you all just valued the foundlings’ happiness.

“Because I have never been to Mandalore.”

You hummed in acknowledgement.

“Most of the people here have never been to Mandalore,” you explained gently, “I haven’t been either and you don’t see me being treated like I’m no Mandalorian, right?”

He tilted his head, musing over your words. You could see how he was debating your helmetless existence and not for the first time did you wonder what it was like to grow up in one of the more stricter tribes. Whether their foundlings grew up knowing that there were other ways – many ways, actually – to the same goal.

“My dad has been to Mandalore,” he said suddenly with the pride only a child could have.

“Really?” you asked, “And he never told you that you need to have been on Mandalore to be a true Mandalorian?”

He shook his head eagerly. “No, he said I am a true Mandalorian no matter where I was or not. The important thing is to honour the way of the warriors,” he quoted his father with a deeper voice and you smiled at his antics.

“Your father sounds like a very wise man,” you nodded, “And don’t you think he would know a bit more about being Mandalorian than your fellow foundlings?”

That seemed to give him pause. “Yes, my buir is very smart,” he said thoughtfully, “And I don’t think that Loren and Say’na have been to Mandalore either, actually.”

“See?” you nudged him playfully, “They don’t know what they’re talking about either. We are all just on our journey to become Mandalorian.”

The boy nodded, clearly in a cheerier mood than before. Then he turned to you fully. “I am Ragnar,” he inclined his head, “This is the way.”

Recognizing it as his greeting, you repeated your name and the phrase,

“What do you think Mandalore will look like?” he asked eagerly, “Have you dreamt about it? I have. I think it is going to be full of the highest mountains and no caves in sight, I don’t like caves. And waterfalls too! Buir said he saw a waterfall as a child and he promised one day he would show me.”

Grinning at his excited chatter, you listened carefully to the pictures he painted with his words. Of snow-capped mountains and rain forests so full of rain, there would never be any deserts in sight. (Turns out Ragnar did not like deserts nor the creatures that lived in them.)

“What do you think Mandalore will look like?” he asked again after a while and despite the blacked-out visor on his face, you could picture his eyes twinkling in delight.

“I think it will be full of grassy hills and lakes,” you revealed, “When I was little, I always dreamed that I could wake up to the sound of waves and take a swim whenever I wanted. Has your buir told you what Mandalore is like?”

“Buir does not like to talk about it,” he shrugged, “But I am sure if you would ask him nicely, he would tell you! He always says I'm too small for that stuff but you are big! Though my buir is bigger, he is the best warrior in our tribe and one day, I am just going to be like –“

“Who do we have here?”

“Buir!” the boy called excitedly and you watched with utter surprise and fascination as he jumped up straight into the arms of the warrior who had kept you company the last few nights.

“You are – He is – What –“

“Getting all speechless again, ‘mega?” the large man joked, “Seems I have that kind of effect on you, huh?”

You were so flustered you did not know what to say. Instead, you just snapped your mouth shut as your brain worked overtime. Paz had a son. Ragnar was Paz’s son. Paz was Ragnar’s father.

Now that you saw them together, their helmets the same colour as the night sky, you wondered how you had not realized it earlier. But Paz had never mentioned a child. And as you watched Paz set Ragnar down again, a heavy hand on his shoulder, you wondered whether Ragnar might have a mother somewhere that still played a role in Paz’s life.

The thought made you feel strangely queasy.

“Buir, she has never seen Mandalore before either,” Ragnar announced, looking up at his father, “Maybe I can be a good Mandalorian after all.”

“How many times have I told you your value as a warrior quality is not dependent on whether you have been to Mandalore,” he chided his son gently in a way that parents often did when their children finally had a revelation after years of them telling them the exact same thing.

“Sometimes it helps to hear it from someone else,” you said quietly. Paz’s gaze snapped to you and you swallowed.

“I suppose that is right,” he said and as Ragnar decided to jog back to his now-again friends to play, Paz came to stand in front of you in all his glory, covering the sun from your face.

“Ragnar is very sweet,” you started shyly, “I didn’t know he – or that you – He … he is very proud to be Mandalorian.”

“That he is,” your alpha replied, “Some clans don’t see him as my son ever since I found him all alone but to me and mine he is my son in all the ways that matter.”

“Our clan has the concept of foundlings, too, you know?” you smiled, your heart bursting in your chest at how protective he was over his son, “He is very proud of his father.”

“And I am very proud of my son,” he replied, “He, uh, he only recently had his helmet ceremony. And it got interrupted in a – he – let’s just say there is nothing I would not do for him. A world without him is no world for me.”

“And that is all that matters,” you reassured him, your heart skipping a beat while your head tortured you with images of what he would be like as a father of your children.

“Did you sleep well?”

You shook your head slightly, shaking off the question of whether he would mind being the father of your future children, “I did, though I am a bit sore.”

His hands immediately appeared at your side, gently helping you up as if soreness rendered you incapable of carrying your weight on your legs. You snorted, feverishly trying not to think about how the heat of his body seeped through your clothes, “Alpha, it is not that bad.”

“I like it when you call me alpha,” he rumbled, not seeming the least bit worried about his concern for you, pulling you closer so he could wrap his arms around you properly, “You did it last night … maybe you can do it tonight too.”

Your core felt molten at the thought of being in his arms for the rest of the day and you were sure he could see how your chest was heaving in excitement. Though as much as you wanted to, there was a tiny voice in the back of your head that made you hesitant.

“I am not sure if I can leave again,” you spoke out loud, “It … Would you truly be okay with me joining your clan quarters for the night again?”

“I don’t think it will come to that conversation at all,” Paz said, his hand sweeping over your back, “The council has decided,” he announced quietly, “We will make our way to Mandalore by nightfall. And if you are comfortable with the thought, I'd like to share my cot with you.”

*

The ship offered no privacy.

While Paz did have his private room –  the one you had spent the previous night in – getting all clans onto one or two ships, meant having to share and rethink the limited space available. As a sign of respect to the clan leader, Paz Vizsla offered Sluice his room and she accepted.

This meant that Paz, along with his fellow warriors, was assigned one of the bunk beds. And one of them meant one of 64 in a large narrow room with too high ceilings and four bunks stacked on top of each other.

The worry in his voice was clear, even through the helmet, when you helped him carry his personal belongings (including a very soft blanket you distinctly remembered cuddling into), assuring you that you could change your mind. But the thought of leaving Paz had not occurred to you once and when you pointed out that several calmers had joined their alphas in the large room and none of them seemed to mind, his shoulders had visibly relaxed.

“We will find privacy in other corners of the ship,” he had promised you, his voice low and deep and sending shivers down your spine.

Only you had not expected him to find privacy so soon.

You were walking down one of the abandoned hallways of the ship, trying to get a feel for the layout so you would not get lost on your way to the cantina again. The negotiations had been postponed once more and with Paz in his polished armour, bent over a strategy table, you decided to flee the cockpit so Chants could not see just how needy you were for your alpha.

Your alpha.

You smiled, the warm feeling in your chest expanding until your entire body felt warm and cosy, thrumming at the thought of him. Could it be that Paz Vizsla really was your alpha? You had never expected to find what some of the elders had called true mates: a person – an alpha – that was just perfect for you and for whom you were perfect. And while you were not sure if you were truly someone that he would want forever, you were getting surer and surer that he was that someone for you.

You were just about to turn a corner when a hand closed around your upper arm and drew you back. Instincts kicked on and you squeaked, flinging your leg back to try and kick back into your attacker but they turned you around so quickly, you had no chance. Within moments, your back was pressed into the cool metal wall behind you, with no option of escape. And a blue helmet entered your vision. “Paz,” you gasped just before his hand came down on your throat. He was not wearing his gloves, which meant he must have planned it all beforehand. You wondered when. And how. And if he spent more time thinking about you than you thought (an idea that filled you with an immense sense of hope) but all thought evaporated when his thumb brushed over your scent gland.

Fuck, you were needy for him.

“Is that okay?” he checked in, his voice rough. His helmet came down against your forehead and you could sense him looking at you so intensely you felt like you could never hide from him. “Wanted to surprise you.”

You nodded, pressing your thighs together when his fingers twitched on your throat. He was so in control of you, of the situation, it felt like you could flood your underwear just upon his command.

“You're not wearing gloves,” you whispered.

He hummed, his thumb scenting you again, “No, I wanted to feel you.”

“O-okay,” you gasped, writhing against him. His thick thigh slipped between your legs and your toes were barely touching the floor when he angled his leg just so. He made you dangle, the only things holding you being his hand on your throat and his thigh on your pussy.

And you did not want to have it any other way.

You did not have to see him to know he had a very amused grin on his face. “You like my armour,” he stated, his legs shifting and you squirmed, “Let’s see how much.”

“Wh-What?”

“Ride my thigh, omega,” he instructed, his fingers flexing around your throat, “When I step foot onto our home I want to have my armour marked by your come.”

“Don’t – don’t you want to fill me up again?” you asked, trying to tease him even though you felt like you were in no position to tease at all. More like begging. Was it too early to beg? “Or – or have me cockwarm you?” you added as an afterthought.

“Who says I cannot do all of these?” he chuckled, bumping you on his leg so high it put pressure on the part you needed most, “After all we still have at least a dozen hours before us.”

Your hands flew to his shoulders, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep you somewhat steady. Almost immediately, you slipped your fingers to his cowl almost immediately and Paz did not stop you when your fingertips managed to find his warm skin, brushing over it until you found his scent gland.

“I don’t see you grinding yet,” he said instead, angling his knee even higher and you squeaked, “Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?”

Of course, you did. And he knew it.

With your dress hiked up over his leg, you could feel the coldness of his beskar through your underwear. And what might have been a turn-off under normal circumstances, with Paz towering over you, shifting his leg again as a reminder of his presence, you found that it turned you beyond belief.

You started moving your hips slowly, though you felt like you were failing miserably at exuding any kind of sex appeal. With your feet having no real contact with the ground and Paz fixing your head so you would not lose his gaze, you felt anything but graceful. But he did not change his stance, nor his grip on your body. While he kept one large hand on your throat, his thumb consistently brushing over your scent gland, the other wandered to the cleavage of your dress.

As soon as he started pulling the delicate neckline down, baring you to his eyes so slowly, your breath got heavier until it just got stuck in your throat. You wanted to please him, stars, how you wanted to please him. And you knew that he liked you, knew that he found you beautiful and yet, at this moment, it was only his mumbles “Stars, you’re so beautiful” that had you release your breath.

And worry about other things.

“What if someone sees?”

“Then they’ll only see my back,” he replied, his fingers playing with your tits and tracing over your pebbled nipples, “And if they tried to see anymore, they will have to deal with the consequences.”

Something in his tone, the possessive undertone, paired with his scent, caused a fresh wave of arousal in you. You could feel your panties sticking to your folds, the wetness gathering on the delicate fabric. There was something slightly humiliating about your position like this, out in the open, and yet you could feel no shame.

Not when Paz made you feel like the most beautiful omega ever to exist.

Soon, you grew more confident in your movements, grinding properly against the hard beskar plate. It was so unforgiving and Paz just kept on playing with your tits, gently plucking at your nipples like it did not make you tremble in his arms. “Could play with these all night,” he murmured, “One day I am gonna have your cock warm me all naked so I get to take my time. Just going to play with these until you’re blind from pleasure.”

You wanted to remind him that the last time he took his time, you had ended up being unable to speak and move. (Though the sleep afterwards had been fantastic.) But the words got stuck in your throat when his hand left your throat (and, regrettably, your scent gland) and pulled your panties aside.

Already, you could feel how drenched you were but could not find it in you to be embarrassed. Instead of ceasing your grinding at the thought of someone accidentally passing by, all you could do was hope that his finger might catch on your clit. They did not. Though knowing that he stared at where your folds left races of wetness on his made you even hotter. Your breaths grew heavier, the knot in your core tighter, and as you thought about cockwarming him until he filled you up again and again, you lost all inhibition.

Tightening your arms around his neck, you hoisted yourself up and closer to his chest. The proximity allowed you to pulse your hips and stars, did it feel good, the way your folds and your clit bumped over the texture of his thigh plate. You wondered how the design came to be – and although you were very sure that this particular situation hadn’t been considered when forging it, you still sent a silent thank you to whoever had made this piece. A few thrusts later, the beskar had warmed with your touch and with your increasing arousal it also became a much easier glide.

“Look at you,” Paz rumbled, clearly pleased, “Marking me for everyone to see. Grinding yourself on my armour like it is my cock.”

His words sparked a sudden idea. The kind of idea that made your heart race and your brain fuzzy but something in your chest told you that Paz would love it just as much as you.

With surprising determination, you surged forward and attached your mouth to the sliver of skin you had freed. His skin was warm and salty under your tongue as you sucked on his scent gland. His taste exploded on your tongue and you moaned, feeling your pussy clench around nothing.

Paz grunted, his body slamming you into the wall, punching the air out of your lungs.

“Fuck,” he growled, his hands gripping your hips and taking control of your movements. You could feel his bulge against your leg and knowing he was as affected by your pleasure made your heart flutter.

It did not take long for you to completely come apart in his arms. With his cock straining against his codpiece, your clit rubbing over his thigh plate your almost-but-not-quite exposure to anyone who might walk by, it had only been a matter of time.

You moaned against his neck, shaking in his arms as your walls clenched around nothing, wishing for his cock inside you.

“You're doing so good for me,” he growled, “Mark me, sweetheart. Do it.”

Your teeth just barely grazed his scent gland when you had the realization that, yes, this was what you wanted him to do. You wanted him to mark you, you wanted to mark him.

You wanted this man to be your alpha.

Another wave of pleasure rolled over you, making you whimper in the cold silence of the hallway. Your entire body just sagged into him, completely pliant for the man in front of you. And Paz was there to catch you, holding you up against him.

“Good omega,” he whispered, as he slowed your movements, gradually working you down from your high, “You are amazing.”

“Hmmm,” you hummed against his neck, brushing your nose over his scent gland, “You smell amazing.”

“Cause I smell like you,” he whispered, “C’mon, let’s get out of here before someone sees.”

“They won't though,” you slurred, your tongue still heavy in your mouth, “Cause you won't let them.”

He paused, his hands brushing from your shoulders to your hands. Slowly, his fingers intertwined with yours as if he were afraid you would run away if he were to touch you too soon. With him standing in front of you, his leg no longer between yours, gravity did its thing as your dress fell over your legs, hiding the sticky mess between your legs. Though your expression and scent probably gave it away to anyone who looked at you for more than a fleeting moment.

“Yes,” he said warmly, “I won't.”

Smiling through the haze, you rested your head against his chest and he let you. Being hugged by Paz made you feel secure in a way you had never experienced before. His arms tightened around you and he started to slowly sway from side to side, humming a melody you did not recognize.

“How are you so comfortable?” you asked in a mumble, trying to smooth your cheek against him through the cold beskar was nothing like the warmth of his skin.

He did not answer directly but you did notice a change in his scent, something that you hadn’t noticed before. You breathed in deeply, trying to decipher where this scent of woods and sweetness had come from but Paz interrupted your thoughts, “Will you let me accompany you to your bunk?”

“Will I?” you scoffed, your voice still sounding weak to your ears, “You have to, alpha, you’ve got a tendency to make my legs tremble.”

“Say stuff like this and I will make them tremble again.”

“Is that supposed to be a threat?”

“A promise, love,” he chuckled, “It’s a promise.”

*

You were not sure what you had expected when the entire Mandalorian population got cramped onto one ship, but it certainly had not been a board game championship.

“Hm, I could get used to that,” Paz murmured in your ear, his hand on your back, “Getting Ragnar to bed, having a nice drink to finish off the evening, sitting you on my cock and beating that annoying alpha in every single game this ship has to offer.”

You smiled against his neck, not opening your eyes. You had spent the last few hours just ... dozing. It was kind of scary to think about how quickly you had gotten used to this strange man but when you had settled for the evening, it was not even a question where you would spend the last few hours of the day.

As soon as the large alpha had sat down at one of the little play tables, so had you, straddling him with your chest against his and he had gotten an extra blanket from somewhere, muttering under his breath how he knew you got cold easily.

It made your cheeks heat up in a different way.

But now here you were, his cock nestled deep inside you and your face in the crook of his neck. Getting to touch even the tiniest sliver of skin felt like a privilege and the fact that he allowed you to do so in front of many of the other warriors made it feel even more intimate. Paz did not mind you scenting him. Quite the opposite, actually, he seemed to relish in it.

The previous night he had spent the time just like this, sitting you on his cock with a rumble in his chest. Only that time he had been able to reciprocate the scenting in kind. Whenever you had drifted awake (multiple times since some couples just could not keep quiet), his mouth had been on your neck, raining lavish kisses upon the sensitive skin until you squirmed in his lap. He had been awake every time you had drifted off and every time your eyes fluttered open beneath the blindfold. He had been still yes, quiet too, and smelled incredibly comfortable but his hands, his hips slowly working you open until you had muffled your gasps into his chest and come on his cock. And then he had traced his fingertips over your scent gland until you had fallen back asleep.

You wondered if he had not slept because he was nervous or perhaps because he just did not need to. You knew of a few warriors in your tribe who had made it a tradition not to sleep the night before a big battle or a trial, instead mulling over strategies and meditating until the time had come.

Briggs called them idiots.

But Paz was not an idiot.

Not with the way he carried himself so securely through the ship, how he participated in the training session, giving pointers to the younger warriors. And certainly not with the way he argued in the cockpit, discussing the best route to go to Mandalore and the strategy for how to reclaim it.

And definitely not with the way his hand was gently stroking your back, how his chest rumbled whenever you pressed a lazy kiss to his scent gland and how he made sure you were comfortable, checking in with you every time he shifted.

“You comfortable too, sweetheart?” he asked you, inclining his head so the side of his helmet was resting against your temple. The proximity allowed you not only to bury your face in his neck but also to hear his real voice – a fact that made your heart skip a beat, “Getting some rest?”

You hummed, too lazy to speak but chose to kiss his neck instead. The stretch made him shift inside you and you whimpered. He had come inside you once already and refused to knot you. (“The first time I knot you won't be in a room where everyone can see just how pretty you come for me,” had been his exact words and you had been too excited by the prospect of him knotting you to understand the implications of the rest of the words.) Which meant that there was a growing mess between your thighs, a mix of your juices and his seed and where other alphas might have found it uncomfortable, the reminder that he had filled you seemed to make Paz even harder than before.

“I’d be concerned if I had to ask my calmer if they are comfortable,” Axe Wove’s voice grated on your nerves and you wondered not for the first time if it was really necessary to be nice to him or if it would suffice to just keep Bo-Katan happy, “You wanna switch, sweetheart?”

You had not even registered that he was speaking to you until you felt Paz tense underneath you, his scent getting an acid note that made your nose twitch, “Say that again.”

“You heard me,” Axe Woves hissed, “Perhaps your omega would actually be satisfied if she were with me.”

You squeaked when you were simply lifted off Paz’s cock, his hands gripping your waist just a little bit too tight for comfort. He was angry, you could gather as much. But was that truly reason enough to kick you out of your favourite spot when you had just started to doze off again?

With trembling hands, you fought to close your robe as fast as possible. But when you finally looked up from fiddling with the belt, it was already too late.

The tell-tale buzzing of the vibro blade cut through the tense silence in the room and you knew shit was about to go down.

“Alpha,” you started to rush to his side but were kept on your spot by a pair of arms that were not your alpha’s.

You turned around angrily, ready to chide anyone who dared to keep you from trying to calm your alpha. Because that’s what he was. Your alpha.

“You know you cannot intervene.”

“Chants –“

“Everyone is watching,” your friend reminded you urgently. You knew he was right. That did not mean you had to like it though. Anyone going to stop a fight between two Mandalorian warriors had to be ready to fight themselves. And apart from your lack of clothing or your body still being disoriented from sitting on Paz’s cock not even five minutes ago, your lack of training did not lend itself to try and stop whatever was going on.

A roar was going through the crowd as they gathered to see what was going on. You caught glimpses of Sluice and the Armourer watching the fight unfold – Sluice looking just as displeased as Briggs, wherever he was, you were sure – and you grew restless. Paz making you fight made you nervous, the thought that there was even the slimmest chance that he could get hurt made you sick to your stomach.

However, after a few minutes of watching Paz fight, you found you did not mind seeing him throw and avoid punches. There was something very attractive about the way he strong-armed his way through the fight. Both men were capable warriors, that much was obvious, but his display of pure strength reminded you of your moment in the hallway and your raging heartbeat calmed down.

Paz could take care of this. He could take care of himself.

It was only when the silver-armoured man – Djarin, you thought – stomped into the circle, gripping Paz by the back of his neck and pulling him away the same way that Bo-Katan Kryze pulled away Axe Woves, finally putting distance between the two alphas.

You took that as your chance to intervene. Chants had no chance to stop you as you slipped out of his grasp and hurried towards Paz. His chest was heaving and his hands kept clenching by his side and you could smell his anger even from several steps away.

But it did not scare you. Because deep down you knew that no matter how big he was, no matter how angry, Paz Vizsla would never even think of hurting you.

“Alpha,” you whispered and the crowd went quiet, “I mean, uh, Paz.”

Taking a stand in front of him you hoped that he was focussing on you instead of a raging Axe Woves behind you. And your heart skipped a beat when his hands gently pulled you against him. He was aware of you, he noticed you, he did not care more about the fight than you.

“He said that I could not pleasure you,” he grunted and you moved to his side.

“I heard what he said,” you smiled, your hand gripping his while you rested your chin against his upper arm, “And it is obvious to me that he does not know what he is talking about.”

That seemed to relax him a little because you could see his shoulders drop and his fingers intertwined with yours. “No?” he asked, tugging you closer, “Are you sure, omega?”

“I am very sure,” you replied, feeling a little breathless, “No one ever made me feel like you do, alpha. Cherished and safe and wanted and … and –“ loved “– appreciated the way you do.”

“Can I let you go, Vizsla?” his friend asked, his tone neutral though you could swear you detected a hint of exasperation in it, “Or will you try to start another clan war?”

“Fuck off, Djarin,” Paz said, clearly not offended at the other man’s accusation, and shook his friend off but keeping his hold on your hand, “’m fine.”

“Yeah, sure,” the other man scoffed but left anyway, disappearing into the crowd that kept dwindling away now that nothing of interest was going on. But a few eyes remained on you and you suddenly became aware of how little you were wearing and how much you were being watched.

“Can we leave, alpha?” you asked, thumb brushing over his wrist and you loved how his head tilted to look at you. How he seemed to be so focused on you, you never need to worry he was in danger of ignoring you. “To … I don’t know to where, just … somewhere we’re alone.”

“I can take you to bed, omega,” he suggested, his hands falling to your hips, “I can … I could hold you close and scent you again. We got the curtain and the blindfold and our own little space. How does that sound?”

“That sounds like a dream,” you smiled in relief, already dragging him in the direction of the bunkroom, “Please take me to bed, alpha.”

#maybege writes #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x fem!reader #smut

[x-liv25-jamieswife]

Xan you pls so some nash sad headcanons?

of course<3. may be shorter than my other sad hcs cause i'm currently sick. i might make some more when i feel better. small, small trigger warning for suicidal thoughts, self harm, and tobias hawthorne. hope you enjoy!

he's obviously extremely protective of his brothers. so much that, when skye or tobias got mad at one of them, nash would convince them it was his fault so they wouldn't hurt his brothers' feelings

this is less of a head canon cause he mentioned this in tbh, but nash is convinced that everyone will someday leave him, and that he'll end up alone.

although tobias and skye hurt him a lot (verbally, they didn't hit him obviously), he had to pretend he was fine all of the time for his brothers. they thought he was a disappointment because he didn't act like a 'real' hawthorne. he didn't tell anyone.

the pressure he puts on himself sometimes becomes too much. so much that he's considered ending his life by jumping off of a bridge/overdosing on smth.

high school was extremely tough for him but no one knew. he felt like he had the world on his shoulders and couldn't speak to anyone about it. his grades would start going down (mind you, they were still great), and tobias would get mad at him. he'd try extra hard to succeed, and he did, but at the cost of his mental health

the reason why he has a savior complex is bc he wishes he could've saved his brothers from everything that tobias did to them. it became even worse after emily. he thinks it was his responsibility to warn them and help them. he know thinks he has to save everyone to make up for it.

nash thinks of himself as a complete failure. so much that sometimes simply looking in the mirror makes him cry.

this one will sound corny but he saves everyone but himself (he doesn't think he deserves to feel better)

he puts everyone's needs in front of his own. he sometimes doesn't eat, sleep, etc just to help his family. (he ended up in the hospital once cause he passed out due to malnutrition)

when nash was younger, he wanted his father in his life so badly he would go beg tobias to tell him his name. he wanted someone who would be there for him bc no one else was.

he used to think there was smth wrong with him bc he wasn't like his other brothers. at the same time, he knew it was partly bc he knew how messed up his grandfather was, but he still wished he could be like the others/accepted.

tobias used to tell him that he was extremely disappointed in him all the time. tobias wanted him to take care of more than he could take. tobias didn't actually care if it took everything out of nash, he just didn't want to take care of everyone else himself.

tobias used to hear him cry at night but didn't do shit to help him. he thought that nash had to toughen up (he was like 13)

nash doesn't like letting other people do things for him bc it makes him hate himself even more. he feels bad when people take on what he thinks is his responsibility. at the same time, it makes him cry cause it makes him feel loved.

he gets mad at himself bc he thinks he's overreacting all the time. he tells himself other people have it worse and that he has no right to complain when he has such a good life.

in high school, he was actually in some pretty sketchy friend group. they took drugs and stuff and got him into it. nash never got addicted, but he now takes drugs when everything becomes too much for him.

in my jamie head canons, i said that he hits punching bags until his hands start bleeding (and even that doesn't stop him sometimes). i think the same goes for nash. he wouldn't self harm in a way that made it obvious to himself that he was harming himself. he'd do it in 'subtle' ways that he could convince himself weren't self harm.

his hands are really messed up for multiple reasons. the boxing and the fact that whenever something goes wrong, he bites his nails and the skin around them.

(idk if this one is even possible, but i'm on the verge of falling asleep and want to finish this) when he fails to save someone, he'll stuff his head in a pillow/in his cowboy hat to cut off oxygen. it kind of brings him back to the present when he starts spiraling.

he has really bad anxiety and actually takes pills to deal with it. all of his responsibilities and stuff weigh him down a lot.

he does so much for others that when he got together with libby and she started doing things for him, he'd actually cry. she'd make him breakfast and he'd tell her it was too much.

he used to have trichotillomania (mental health condition that involves irresistible urges to pull out hair from your scalp, eyebrows, or other areas of your body). over time he got better, but sometimes it comes back when his anxiety is really bad.

he used to make his mom drawings and gifts in hope of getting her attention (she never cared). he used to think it was because his drawings weren't good enough, so he'd try again and again until he realized he was the problem.

nash personally blames himself for all of the pain tobias caused people (like lyra and stuff). for some reason, he thinks he should've stopped him somehow even though that's impossible.

he used to come home really scraped up because he'd get into fights for his brothers whenever someone was mean to them or hurt them. he has some permanent scars on his body bc of the fights, but he still thinks he should've done more.

whenever nash does something he deems 'wrong' he hears tobias' voice in his head telling him he's a failure.

a happy nash head canon to finish this off:

nash, as a kid, loved ducks. he would head to ponds to feed them, and he owned like 294810 books on ducks. he had tiny duck figurines in his bedroom (and still does). he used to make short videos about them and his little trips to the pond with his camera.

#the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #avery grambs #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #libby grambs

[dairy-farmer]

Sneaking back iiiin~☆ After a period of being away o/

D-Lister Otome Powers POG? I think SO! CONSIDER:

Tim, out on patrol, things have been... tense. He's gotten Bruce back from the timeline, but it hasn't FIXED anything. Things were said. He spiraled. Trust was betrayed. He doesn't... he doesn't feel like he HAS a home anymore.

Dick feels betrayed and worried TOO. He needed Tim's support. Instead he broke down, went rouge, and nearly DIED. Didn't explain ANYTHING. Now he's drifting away from the family.

Bruce is barely recovered. His family is in pieces around him and he's pretty sure it's his fault.

So... Patrol is... Professional. Tense. Like it has been for days.

Red Robin is checking out some minor disturbance. Discovers clues that it's some INCREDIBLY naive or foolish out-of-towner who thinks they can "make a name for themselves" in America's crime capital. Idiot is going to get himself killed.

But why target a minor gaming company?

No matter, RR can handle it. He's tired, patrols nearly over. Should be quick.

The days after weeks of hurt and hypertense emotions have left him exhausted. Making mistakes he would normally NEVER make. Like going after an unknown alone. No matter how small they SEEM.

You could always be wrong.

And that KILLS.

Batman trained him better then that. Bruce, catches his plan, too late. Is blocks away. Can hear, through Tim's comms, the most terrifying sort of confidence in that opponents voice. Not fool hardy overconfidence. Not arrogance. But "I have a nasty trick that I KNOW you can't counter". Tim. Tim, get out of there! TIM!

Red Robin does not respond.

And Tim? Wakes up with a splitting headache. Too... honestly? What looks A LOT frilly, hyper feminine version of one of Drake Manor's guest rooms. But with "personal touches" added to make it LOOK like someone supposedly lives here. Too generic though. And too artfully placed. It looks like a movie set.

Where the fuck is h-*DING!*

Then a blue screen like some of the holographic screens he's seen before, pops up. "Welcome to ☆~Knights In Gotham~☆! Complete the game or be trapped forever~♡!" It reads in cutesy font.

Well that ONE way to get him out of bed. But unfortunately, it takes less then 15 minutes to confirm that he is, indeed, not in his native reality. MIGHT be drugged or hypnotized. He'll have to test. But the whole new reproductive set, suggest otherwise.

So he pokes around. Speed runs his emotional "I'm trapped, might never see my family again. No. No! I WILL escape!" Character arc/mental breakdown in the shower. Finds some pants.

Figures out what sort of game this is. It's an Otome game. Dating. Based on? His FAMILY. Fffffuck his life.

Okay, should be TOO bad right? People never get their personalities right in fan stuff. Thanks to the Bats being Cryptids. So Tim can just pretend they're other people, right?

Wrong.

The game world he quickly realizes, is using HIS knowledge to fill in the blanks of the massively unfinished framework. This assholes Meta powers? Can only trap him IN here. He's not in control of it. NO ONE IS. Oh, that's so much worse.

Outside? Bruce has BatDad'd panic beat downed the Otome Meta. Where is his BABY BOY!? He can't answer you unconscious, Bruce. Thankfully, Dick is observant. There us a computer on. With Tim on it. He puts two and two together. They are able to keep the power on and transfer the computer to the cave.

Meanwhile? Tim is staring down a Bruce in FULL Brucie Mask. Debating with himself. Because on ONE hand? Childhood wet dreams: Get? But on the OTHER, baggage for daaaaays. And there us no guarantee this isn't a PG title. So like? Bruce would DEFINITELY be the hardest Route, wouldn't he?

He has no idea what he's doing.

He doesn't PLAY these type of games.

He figures, since demon child DOESNT have a reason to hate him here? Probably the safest bet. Especially since he won't feel as bad manipulating a version of him. It should be fine right?

Wrong. He doesn't play these sort of games. Is unaware of how they work and what's at stake. He bungles it. Doesn't play to the troupes, gets his first Bad End. He knew just a touch TOO much, too soon, too openly. Damian's character became convinced he was either a Rouge or an Assassin. But! He got all those "heart event" thingies! Tim mentally protests!

Which is why it doesn't just cut to black, a sudden attack from behind, "Game Over".

No, Tim wakes up behind bars. In a bunker. Nicer then a prison cell, but only just. Because Damian LOVES him. But can not allow him to continue his criminal ways. So he's going to rehabilitate him. By force if necessary. And he knows, because he is not a fool, that Tim does not truely love him. But?

He can fix that too.

They have time.

Outside? Actual Damian is horrified. His feelings towards Drake are... complexe. But this?! Absolutely not! He lunges forward. Dick is trying desperately to hit the Restart. It's not working. Damian hits it HARDER. It works immediately. (They later realize only the "Route" target can restart the game)

Tim wakes up in the starting room.

This time he fuckin LOOKS UP Otome Games on a computer.

Takes a bracing shot of whiskey, because this IS Drake Manor and he knows where his parents hid the good stuff, and tries again. Gets the Neutral End. Fuck! Okay, tries AGAIN. Gets shot, Game Over. Oh god damn it!

He keeps going.

Nothing seems to be WORKING. He's getting stressed. Lonely, desperate, hopelessness trying to set in. He just... just wants to feel WARM you know? Reassured. Held. Knows he's not thinking clearly, but...

So he goes after "Brucie". He KNOWS Bruce. Knows how he picks his one night stands. Knows how to dress up just enough, just OFF enough, to not be suspicious. It's a bad idea. He knows it as he gets dressed. As he arrives. Flirts. Charms and drinks, but not too much. Let's himself be tucked under Bruce's arm. Led away.

Kon always said he was great with his mouth. From the way "Brucie" tenses, like iron under the sild of his suit, holding himself back from grabbing and being rougher then his reputation would allow? He'd say Bruce agrees. Tim certainly puts his all into it. Let's himself lose himself to the rhythm of movement. The scent of Bruce's cologne. The slide over his tounge.

Stolen moments though, aren't enough to get to everything Bruce wants.

The party ends too soon. And Tim leaves with the other guests.

Only to find himself FIRMLY in Bruce's route. The man showing up everywhere. Stealing kisses. Hands disappearing under clothes. Bruce, as he tends too, obsessed. In love. Overwhelming. Tim finally, FINALLY get a Good End.

He also gets fucked, in his bed, within an inch of incoherence, by Batman.

Yet the Game does not release him. Because it did not say "complete A Route" the realse conditions were Complete the GAME. So now Tim has to "win" the others.

All while they watch.

Because THEY are the only ones who can start a new route. Bruce absolutely could have hit that restart once the Good End popped up. Yet... he let the scene play out. Sat, alone, having sent the others to bed... and watched his son get fucked by a version of himself. Watched his son gasp and whimper, cry out and sob, in pleasure.

They each get to watch. As Tim bonds with "them". Spends time with "them".

Eventually, Tim manages the secret Harem Ending. Stumbles free into the waiting arms of his family. They rejoince. But the question remains~! What will they do know? After so long, thinking darkly that they could "do better"? That TIM deserved better then the touch of imposters? That is the question we ask! As I run out of steam and need to sleep! Thoughts?

-🐼🐼🐼

tim's family watching as he works through all their "routes" 👀👀👀👀

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

[squerlly]

Flames of Desire chapter 12: How Unfortunate ~

Alastor x (F! bunny reader) TW! violence, use of weapons, Vox being an insecure bitch, Angst

Alastors POV:

it's been two days since y/n has gone missing, I have searched every street, every hiding spot, and killed many people for even a hint of where she is but...nothing. Charlie and the others are worried sick, it's not helping the fact I told them I had this matter under control, but the more I come back empty handed the more I'm starting to doubt myself. I can't afford to lose the one good thing I have down in this wretched place, I need to find her I must find her...

my thoughts were short lived when my door busted open, with a growl I turned "Who dares to-" "There is a package for you downstairs" "Charlie can't it wait-" "It's about y/n!". I faze through the floor in a hurry, heading straight for vaggie who is holding a box in her hand with a frown. I snatch it from her hand and with no hesitation rip it open, ripping it open I see a cloth soaked in blood that smells like y/n with brown fur and a business card from Voxtek...

everyone backs away from me as symbols of my magic surround me, static emitting from me with a stare on my face that could kill. I turn my head a crack in my neck following "Angel" he flinches and looks at me "W-what" "You work at Valentino's studio correct!?" he nods and I walk up to him "That means you know your way around Vox's headquarters!" he nods again trying put distance between us "y-your not seriously gonna go in there...right?"

Charlie stands between us "Al maybe we should go with you-" "NO, this is a personal matter!!, excuse me I have some unfinished business to take care of" If Vox wants my attention well...he's got it now. with the snap of a finger, I teleport me an Angel in front of the Vees building "Navigate me through that building, you get y/n and I'll handle the rest"

your POV:

"That's enough Val" "Aww come off Voxy, we're just getting to the fun part~" As Valentino drops me I land on the floor with a loud thud, blood running down my chest from cuts and bruises. "we sent a nice message to your little Bambi, that will surely speed up his arrival~" "fuck you, you flat faced bi-" my head shoots to the side as I feel a sting from the hard slap Vox gave me "learn your place, you should be threatening me knowing your current situation!" "Alastor is gonna get here and he's gonna kill you-" "he's not gonna do shit! not when I have his bitch on a leash~"

the conversation is cut short when Valentino's phone goes off, answering it, it sounds like one of his studio managers. Valentino ends the call "he's here" he says with a grin "Perfect". Vox leaves the room Valentino following behind him, I let out a shaky breath followed by a wince from the pain. at this rate, I might faint just from blood loss, I have to hang in just a little longer....

Alastors POV:

entering the building I make quick work of the staff working on the first floor, Angel leaving to head upstairs for y/n. I intend to wipe every demon in this building, Vox has been getting on my nerves for far too long, and it's time I bring this to an end. I walk into the elevator going up to the second floor, the elevator opens and I see Valentino standing in the middle of the room, models and porn actors fleeing the scene. he holds one gun in each hand, angelic guns... "go on, take your best shot!" he points the guns at me with that golden toothed grin "With pleasure~"

your POV:

my head feels fuzzy, the room being relatively silent before I hear the sound of screams and gunshots. I sit up seeing the door open expecting Vox but it was.. "Angel!!!! y-your here" "damn babes ya look like shit!" he runs over to me, untying my restraints "Thank fuck your here, where is Alastor!!?" "he's downstairs in that shit show" He uses his bottom arms to help me stand, rushing me out of the room. "we need to get ya outta here, smiles is gonna tear down this whole building!"

we stood in the elevator heading down to the second floor, booking it out of the elevator were met with Vox. he held a gun in his hand, using it to hit Angel in the face making him fall to the floor and drop me "you're not going anywhere!" "oh, but I think we are" Behind him stands Alastor, covered in blood with black tentacles coming out of his back. his smile strained and hair puffed out with a gunshot wound in his right shoulder.

Vox grabs me by the hair causing Alastor to lunge forward to attack, but he stops...because Vox takes the angelic gun in his hand, holding it to my head. "that's right! you're not gonna touch me, I will blow her fucking head off!" "Alastor don't-" "SHUT UP!! you have destroyed everything!! you were supposed to be dead seven years ago!!" he then points the gun at Alastor "You've made a fool out of me, you killed VAL!!!" looking behind Alastor, a pool of blood smears the floor with nothing but a pink striped gun left... "hmm how unfortunate~ he did put up a good fight"

"I have worked my ass off!!! to build my company to where it is now, and I'm not going to have an outdated PRICK destroy it, you were supposed to join us but instead, you ran off with Lucifer's dumb bitch daughter, and her HoTeL for redemption!! so now, I'm going to kill you..."

"I would have never joined you, too lost in your own pompous shit technology that it's become your greatest weakness!!, the only person that would tear your company down is you, so eager to prove that you are better but you have flaws just like every other person!!"

Vox's grip tightens on my neck "Vox... ack- y-you don't have to do this!! we can help you-" "My brand is perfection! I don't need help from you!!" he cocks back the gun aiming it straight for Alastors head, but a split second before he shoots Angel tackles him to the floor. everything felt like it was in slow motion, a ring in my ears as the shot fires, Angel on the floor pinning Vox down. and as I turned my head my vision blurred, I saw Alastor fall to his knees... with a gunshot to his chest.

I quickly crawl over to him "Alastor!!!! No... no no NO! Come on get up, please... ALASTOR!!" hot tears fall down my cheeks as I shake his body, his breathing is light and uneven as he struggles to stay awake. Vox laughs, his screen glitching in and out, Angel grabs his phone calling Charlie. I applied pressure to the wounds trying to stop the bleeding, and within a few minutes Charlie arrived with a few other people.

vaggie tries to pry me off of Alastor as I scream not wanting to let go but having no strength to fight back, as I'm pulled away all of the exhaustion and stress got to me causing everything to go dark, passing out.

We're almost finished with the series guys!!! one more chapter to go and I can start up fair exchange!!! also sorry if Velvet is kind of absent in this story, I was going to give her a place but didn't end up doing so since she mostly was on the topic of extermination until the Hazbin production gives her a more important role. thank you guys for your patience and have a wonderful day/night!

-squerlly

@pooplyface1423 @strippezzz

for more content and chapters please click this masterlist

#hazbin #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel

[azucarmorena97]

Money Ties (Jungkook Love Story || Pt.9)

Pt.8 || Pt.10

Your parents have worked hard to get to the top and have made sure to teach you everything you need to know to be successful in this business: from tough but lucrative financial decisions, down to the right ball gown for any given banquet. A promising and extravagant future awaits you- that is, if you agree to one teensy detail...

Son of Mr.Jeon Sr. and heir to June Company, Jeon Jungkook is an immature playboy with nothing to offer a woman but good looks and a crap ton of money, and he stands to inherit much MUCH more, so long as you both enter into the arranged marriage contract that was drawn up before the pair of you were even born.

You're more than willing to try, but you're not sure you'll be able to stand each other long enough to inherit a single penny...

Series Warnings: There will be smut in the near future and I will label those chapters as such. As I say before most of my pieces- I do not endorse any themes, ideas, or behaviors in this series. This is all purely fiction/fantasy! Feel free to inbox me suggestions/ideas/what you'd like to see in this series and I'll see what I can do! Enjoy <3

Recap: For years, you've heard people say that your first time isn't as special as the movies make it seem. They say it's something to just get done and move on from so you can start having good sex- and maybe that's true for some people, but this? You like this.

- Lisa: Kookie, where are you? I miss you <3

Your heart begins to pound in your chest. You look over at the bathroom door, still closed, though you've heard a flush.

Without another thought, you dart out of the bed, quickly yanking on your clothes, making sure to leave absolutely no trace of yourself behind in that room.

You finally hear the bathroom door open though when you do, the hotel room door is already clicking shut behind you.

You sit in front of your computer, brows furrowed in concentration as your eyes dart from one tab to the next, typing furiously. Since you've been back home, you've been working non-stop, getting everything ready for your transition from your parents' business to Jeon Company. Beside the tedious tasks to be completed before going back to Seoul, you've made it a point not to think too much about your return.

"Don't you think you should at least respond to his messages?" B/f/n says one night on facetime. "I've been responding to mine and his mother's messages, he knows I'm fine, there's nothing to talk about." "Y/n, he walks around here like a lost puppy. He tries to hide it but it's so obvious." "Tell Lisa where her dog is then." "Y/n, maybe it was a misunderstanding." "Honestly, I don't really care anymore. I've made my peace with the idea that he might end up being my husband but he will never...never be mine," The sting is present but you ignore it. "There's no way you've made any sort of peace with...any of this. What you guys did was kind of a big deal." "It...was what it was. It was gonna happen anyway, and now I'm glad we didn't wait until the wedding night so we wouldn't kid ourselves into thinking it's some sacred act." "But it was." "I've uh, gotta go," You say, having received a notification of an incoming call on your apple watch. B/f/n sighs, "Alright...talk later." "Yeah." Without another word, you hang up the call.

It's not that you mean to be mean. You can feel yourself being short with your parents, with B/f/n, but you can't bring yourself to continue answering their questions. How are you? Why haven'y you called? Did something happen between you and Jungkook? What happened? It's humiliating enough to know he fucked you without any real plans to ever get rid of his ex-girlfriend- you don't need to be telling the whole world about it. The only reason you even told B/f/n about it was because she was the one who drove you to the airport. She could immediately tell something was off and you couldn't hold it in for any longer and began crying and carrying on. You've never been one for dramatics and tears...but this one stung. No, worse... This one might have finally broken your spirit.

"I could oversee the Australia branch on this one if you want. I'm much more familiar with the market over there -" You're trying to focus on the presentation being given by a member of the marketing department, though your mind keeps teetering back and forth between the information and your personal life. Suddenly, you see a txt message notification pop up at the corner of your laptop screen. Jungkook. Your heart skips a beat, though you quickly dismiss it and turn your attention back to the front of the room, but it doesn't stop- another message, another message, another- soon you have 5 messages from him. You bite your lip, feeling anxious to know what he's saying but not wanting to give in. "Uhm, you'll have to excuse me for just a moment," You say, shooting out of your chair and abruptly walking out of the room, leaving everyone staring at you from the other side of the big glass wall as you walk down the hall.

You take your phone out and unlock it, quickly opening up to his messages.

𝗝𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗸𝗼𝗼𝗸: 𝗬/𝗻 𝗜 𝗿𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗝𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗸𝗼𝗼𝗸: 𝗜𝗱𝗸 𝘆 𝘂𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗿𝘆 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗺𝗲 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗰𝗻 𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗸? 𝗝𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗸𝗼𝗼𝗸: 𝗦𝗼𝗺𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗳 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗻, 𝗜 𝗿𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗸 𝘁𝗶 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗝𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗸𝗼𝗼𝗸: 𝗜𝘁 𝗰𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗶𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗹 𝘆𝗼 𝗰𝗼𝗺 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗝𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗸𝗼𝗼𝗸: 𝗣𝗹𝘇 𝗬/𝗻

"What the fuck..." You mumble, furrowing your brows. Is he having a stroke or something? You slap your hand to your forehead and press the call button on his contact. You swore you wouldn't talk to him at all while you were back at home, yet here you are, calling him. It rings only twice and then you can hear rustling on the other side, along with loud music.

"J-Jungkook?" You say into the phone, suddenly unsure if he meant to answer it, as it takes him quite a few seconds to say anything. "Y/n? Y/n- can you hear me?" He says loudly into the phone, his tone surprised and desperate. "Yes...I can hear you."

"Y/n, why haven't you been answering me?" "Because...I needed some space." "Space? After what we did?" It isn't until now that you notice his speech is a bit slurred. "Yeah, I needed space...hey, are you drunk?" "Are you still gonna marry me?" "Answer the question, Y/n." "You first," You narrow your eyes at the wall as though he were standing right in front of you. "Alright, fine. I may have had a few beverages. But it's your fault." "Please, tell me how this is my fault?" "Because you left me. You used me and then left me." You let out a bitter laugh, "Right, I used you." "So are you gonna marry me or what?" He repeats.

"I'm hanging up." "The phone or the relationship?" "You're not even making sense, Jungkook," You know perfectly well what he means, but you don't want to have this conversation with him, knowing how absolutely inebriated he sounds. "You don't make sense," He sounds much like a child. "Good bye." You don't let him get in another word before you hang up the phone.

You don't immediately return to the meeting, deciding you need a moment to gather yourself. As angry as you are, hearing his voice was oddly comforting. You hate that.

It's the last day of your time back home and you've packed up a lot of your things that you'll be sending to Seoul. The departure is bitter... there is no more sweet left in you to give you hope for your arrival at your new home. You don't know how you're gonna do it... your mom tried to talk you into having a bridal shower but you managed to wiggle out of it, though not without compromise. "What time is the fitting on Wednesday?" You ask your mom. "1PM. I arranged for everyone to meet fifteen minutes early though," She says excitedly. By everyone, she means herself, Mrs.Jeon, and all of your bridesmaids...including Lisa. For two to three hours, you'd be forced to play nice with the person at the center of your current rage- well, one of the people at the center. You'd be marrying the other one after. Though you suppose two to three hours is better than an entire night for a bridal shower.

"Make sure you sleep on the plane, the Jeon's invited us to dinner when you get back." "Great." "Don't start, Y/n. After Friday afternoon, they'll be family. You need to start playing smart." "I'm not playing a game to begin with," You say wearily. "Now, I don't know what happened between you and Jungkook-" You prepare to argue with her and tell her to mind her business, but she cuts you off, "-BUT- you need to put it aside and make amends. You cannot start this marriage on a bad foot." "Alright..." You concede. Pointless in protesting when you're gonna go through with it anyway.

The plane ride is long, though you spend about two thirds of it sleeping and the last bit, writing a portion of a project proposal you'd be sending your dad on behalf of the marketing team. If you just keep your head down and your mind busy, maybe you'll be able to float through the next few days without a hitch.

When you land, it's only B/f/n and Namjoon who are there to receive you. Typical. Though you'd been quite dry with B/f/n since during your time away, she is like a breath of fresh air and a sight for sore eyes and you can't help the big smile that spreads across your face when you see her. Of course, never one to hold a grudge, she embraces you tightly. "Wow, three weeks away and you'd swear Y/n was coming back from war," Namjoon jokes. B/f/n doesn't let go of you, just lazily hits him on his arm and continues hugging you. "Listen to me; you are going to be strong this week, okay? Don't think about anyone but yourself. I'll be right next to you the entire step of the way." Her words bring tears to your eyes and all you can do is struggle to nod, as she is holding you quite tightly.

When you get back to the hotel room, you drop everything and leap into bed, your heart content to just lay there... "Don't get too comfortable. Dinner's in...an hour and a half," She reminds you. You groan, face down into the mattress. You lazily roll over and stare up at the ceiling, "Maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll be reincarnated as a bed bug." "You are such a weirdo." "I'm serious...and all I'll have to do is live in people's mattresses and feast and poop...if I'm lucky, some weary traveler will transport me somewhere great, and that's how i'll live my life." "Just my luck, I'll end up being the traveler," She grumbles, causing you to laugh. "That's right, you'll never be rid of me."

You practically drag your feet behind your parents and B/f/n. No part of you wants even to exist in the same vicinity as Jungkook right now, let alone eat dinner with him and his family. "You better fix your face," Your mom says over he shoulder, and though you're not able to fully see it, you know she's saying it through gritted teeth. "Ah, welcome back!" You hear Mr.Jeon's voice come from the direction just ahead, though your parents are completely blocking your view. You immediately 'fix your face', as your mom so lovingly put it, and stepped out from behind your dad to give the most fake smile of your life- though once the entire table is in view, you realize it's only his parents. No Jungkook in sight...and for some reason, your heart falls just a little bit, though you're sure your face doesn't give you away. "H-Hello, how are you both?" You give a small bow. "Oh, we're good. How was your trip? Did you get a lot done?" Mrs.Jeon asks, her smile warm and inviting. "Yes, I did. Thanks for asking." You glance at the empty chair and it seems as though she notices because then she says, "You'll have to excuse Jungkook tonight. He's at the office preparing for a presentation for Wednesday." "Oh, yes of course," You reach for your glass of water and look at B/f/n, who gives you a small smile. At least it'll be a calm dinner...

Dinner was a breeze, the conversation flowing between your parents effortlessly; you mostly sat with your eyes on your plate, your spoon pushing around the little rice you had left. You couldn't help but let your mind wander to Jungkook...

"Earth. To. Y/n," B/f/n calls in a robotic voice, waving her hand in front of your face. "Mm?" "You okay?" She asks, putting her hair up in front of the bathroom mirror. "Oh, yeah. Sorry...I guess I spaced out." "Mhm...was it in Jungkook land again?" "What? Of course not," You try to lie but you know she ain't buying it. "Don't you think it's high time you guys talk? It's been weeks." "If I don't see that boy until the wedding day, I'll be perfectly fine." "Don't let the universe hear you," She warns, rubbing her face cream between her fingers. "Fuck the universe," You say arrogantly before turning around and leaving the bathroom.

The next morning, your alarm goes off at around 6:30, eliciting a groan from you. You grab the pillow next to you and smash it against your face, not wanting to face the day. "It's tiiiiiiiiiiime," B/f/n sings at the highest possible pitch, mimicking Mariah Carrey's 'All I Want For Christmas'. "Shut up," You whine. She's usually not a morning person but as soon as your mom told her she was in charge of getting your hair and makeup done for the fitting, she insisted that you set an early alarm. Apparently, getting ready at 11AM for your 1PM fitting wasn't enough time because, as she so lovingly put it, she's "not a miracle worker".

"I don't even get why you guys are making such a big deal out of this. It's just a fitting- why do we need hair and makeup?" "You are probably the most annoying bride I've ever worked on," She rolls her eyes, patting the beauty blender lightly on your skin. "I'm the only bride you've ever worked on." "And you're already souring my experience. This is the first time you're trying on your dress- it needs to be a memorable and impactful experience." "Fine..." You cross your arms over your chest and roll your eyes, deciding it's better to give in than to keep fighting it. All you want to do is stay in bed and sulk.

The only good to come out of the fitting today is the fact that you'll be seeing all your college friends; Han Soo-Hee, Shin Se-Kyung, Jisoo, and Jung Chae-yeon. You'd not seen them in a couple years and it'll be nice to catch up. Of course, the only downside-

"Lisa!" Mrs.Jeon says cheerfully, walking ahead of you, B/f/n, and your mom into the bridal shop. Your heart starts pounding and you can feel your blood boiling instantly. "Breathe," B/f/n whispers to you. "Mrs.Jeon!" Her voice is sickeningly sweet and you can tell by the hug she gives her that she's intent on laying it on thick. "I'm so happy you accepted to be a bridesmaid on such short notice," Mrs.Jeon turns to the side and extends her hand to motion to you, "This is Y/n." "Y/n, it's so nice to formally meet you," Lisa says with a low bow. "Same to you." You're such a liar. "I'm so excited to see you in your dress- I'm sure you'll make a beautiful bride." Her comment takes you by surprise and it takes you a moment to respond. "Th-thank you," You blush. "Of course- I'm sorry, how rude of me. What's your name?" B/f/n gives a polite smile, though you knew her enough to know that it was totally fake, "I'm B/f/n. Maid of honor." "Oh that's so sweet- You're so lucky. I won't ever be able to be a maid of honor unless my best friend finally gets married. You may have met her. Rose?"

Your mind flashes back to Rose's burning rage that day when she pulled up on Jin while you were out to dinner with Jungkook. "That sounds vaguely familiar."

"Yeah, well anyway- probably never gonna happen. Her boyfriend's a raging asshole. Anyway, are we expecting anyone else?" Lisa asks.

This whole thing feels strange. She seems way different from the impression she gave that day in the bathroom at Kook's party. You expected to be met with a sour attitude and cattiness, but she seems quite...bubbly.

"Yeah, our four other bridesmaids should be here shortly," B/f/n says, checking her watch.

Not a second goes by and the bell on the bridal shop door chimes, announcing the arrival of the rest of your court. "WHERE'S THE BRIDE!?" Se-Kyung exclaims, throwing her hands up in celebration.

"MY GIRLS!" You cheer, both you and B/f/n running to hug your guests. Instantly, you feel yourself relax. It doesn't matter how this fitting goes, you finally have your people around you.

After a few minutes, you were all lead by a sales associate to a back room with various mirrors and a pretty pink couch, the walls lined with dresses upon dresses. On the furthest wall, facing the couch, is a platform with three mirror, meant for you to be able to look at yourself from all angles...the thought makes you want to gag.

You're going into this fitting basically blind, not having been shown a single stitch of your dress until this moment. The sales lady leaves you in a room with it, hung high up to keep the long train from sagging on the floor. You stare at the grand gown for some time- so long that the sales lady comes back and knocks on the door, "You okay in there?" "Just-just a moment," You say, scrambling to get your clothes off and slip into the dress, holding it up at the bodice so as not to expose your boobs before they've laced you in.

You don't dare look in the dressing room mirror- seeing yourself might just make it too real and right now, you're trying desperately to convince yourself that this is all one big dream that you're gonna wake up from. Once the dress is secured, you pick the heavy skirt up and walk out to your court, each lady waiting for you with a glass of champagne in hand. A series of claps and cheers erupt and you feel your face burn. You stand with your back to the mirror, facing everyone. Your moms eyes are welling with tears, Mrs.Jeon has her hands covering her mouth, B/f/n and all of your bridesmaid's are fawning over you. "You look absolutely gorgeous," Mrs.Jeon says. "Doesn't she? God, Jungkook won't be able to keep his eyes off you," Se-Kyung smiles ear to ear. "Or his hands!" B/f/n adds, causing you to blush even harder. Even your mom and Mrs.Jeon can't hold back a laugh at her most inappropriate comment.

"So, what do you think?" Chae-Yeon asks. "About what?" You ask. "About the dress, you goof." "Oh- it's fine," You say, looking down and smoothing out the bottom. "Just fine? Did you even look in the mirror?" B/f/n asks. You respond with a long period of silence, pursing your lips. "Turn your ass around and look in that mirror," Jisoo reprimands you. "I did!" "Liar!" "Ugh, fine." You cross your arms tightly over your chest, shut your eyes tight and turn around. You brace yourself for a few seconds before finally, slowly opening your eyes.

You'd heard about this before- this moment. The moment where you see yourself for the first time in the dress. In everyone's stories, it's the second or the third dress, maybe even the tenth- but the moment will always come where you see yourself in that dress and simultaneously, see your future unfolding in your reflection. Suddenly, your eyes begin to well too. You can no longer pretend; this is real. Mom was right, you think, the hair and makeup did make a difference.

"It's the dress," Your mom says softly, pride in her voice. Everyone erupts in cheers again, though you hardly pay it any mind- your mind is completely and totally fixed on this feeling in your chest...

You want to see Jungkook.

B/f/n helps put the dress safely in the trunk for you, leaving you standing there with Lisa, as the other girls had headed off to the restaurant to get your table and your mom and Mrs.Jeon went back to the hotel to start dealing with the preparations of the ballroom. Lisa had been quite warm and welcoming to everyone the entire fitting, and you began to question whether or not you'd imagined her conversation with Rose.

Could it have been that you misunderstood everything? You misread the situation? Did you fuck everything up by jumping to conclusions?

"Uhm- Hey Lisa, we're gonna be going out to dinner once we pull out of here...would you like to join us?" You ask, the words feeling strange as they come out of your mouth.

"Oh, that's so nice of you to ask- unfortunately I really have to go take care of some stuff at home. Rain check?" "Yes, of course. No worries...And hey, listen. Thanks again for agreeing to be part of my court." "Of course, it's not a problem at all," She opens her arms to you, a warm expression on her face as she goes in for a hug. You gladly return the gesture, though once she's pulled you in, she brings her lips really close to your ear, "Anything for Jungkoook."

Venom drips off of her every word, the air thick between you; and suddenly, it all makes sense. The uncharacteristically sweet smiles, the polite bows, the compliments...she's an actress, and this fitting was her stage. In fact, the entire Jeon family is a plot device for her performance. She doesn't want Jungkook...she wants to be adored.

This is why Jungkook doesn't believe me.

Before you're able to respond in any way, Lisa is letting you go, walking in the opposite direction toward her car.

The rest of the day is a bit of a blur; so much to take in and so little to time. Dinner, drinks at the hotel bar, and now, more drinks at a pub a few blocks away. You decide to put Lisa out of your mind and just enjoy the company of your friends: drinks upon drinks are passed around, laughter and merriment fill the air- before you know it, your insides feel warm and fuzzy and your mind more free and uninhibited. "I'm gonna call him," You say, standing from your chair, a self-righteous expression on your face as you pound your chest once. "That's the best idea you've had all night," B/f/n says. "Call him!" Se-Kyung shouts. "Call him, call him, call him!" They all pound on the table, cheeks cherry red and hair disheveled- you were the sloppiest bunch anyone ever did see.

You take your phone out of your purse and punch in his number- having grown accustomed over the past few weeks at seeing it pop up on your screen, you'd memorized the number by heart. You can faintly hear it ringing but the music in the bar is so loud that you decide to stumble your way out to the parking lot. It continues to ring a few more times before he finally picks up.

"Hello?" Jungkook's voice is groggy, like he'd been sleeping. "Where were you at dinner?" You ask, cutting to the chase. "Y/n it's...it's 1AM. Where are you?" "Fuck you," You slur. "Fuck you too," He returns the same cold tone, though he doesn't hang up. "Fuck you more!" You hang up on him, mouth hanging open in disbelief at how rude he's being. Clearly, you're drunk. You can't hold what drunk people say against them. "Asshat," You grumble, returning to your friends.

About fifteen minutes go by and everyone is absolutely zombified, with B/f/n having tapped out five minutes prior, her head resting on the table. "I'm never drinking again..." Jisoo groans. "It'll be at least...twelve hours before I can stomach another drink," Se-Kyung adds. "Y/n," A familiar voice says behind you. You turn around and realize it's Namjoon. "'Joon?" You ask incredulously, "How'd you know we were here?" He chuckles, "It's my job to know. Remember?" He walks around to B/f/n and sweeps her hair out of her face. She's sound asleep. "I'm here to take you all home." "I could've gotten a car, you didn't have to do that-" "Jungkook sent me." You blink in surprise. Jungkook? "You're kinda hot," Chae-Yeon says, staring dreamily at him. "Thanks but I'm seeing someone," He says politely, gently scooping B/f/n up into his arms. "Everyone ready?"

Thursday goes by quickly, with everyone scrambling to get everything ready for the wedding. Your mothers decided to hold the wedding at the other hotel location about thirty minutes away for a nice change of scenery. Decorations are being brought in, tables and chairs set up, tapestries are brought in and hung up all over the hall ceiling. It's all coming together quickly- a circus of workers directed by yours and Jungkook's mothers. You avoid thinking about the previous night's shenanigans, cringing at yourself for having sunk so low as to drunk dial him.

But you also can't stop thinking about the absolute lack of consideration- sending Namjoon instead of just getting you all himself? What a prick...not that you wanted to see him, but it's about common decency. Don't get someone else to do your job. Even if it is technically what Namjoon gets paid to do...

"Stop talking so much, I'm getting a headache," B/f/n says sarcastically, gently nudging you. You're snapped out of your thoughts, cheeks blushing slightly, "Sorry. Just out of it today." "I can see..." You both watch as flowers are placed inside of the tall vases at the center of each table. "Am I making a mistake?" You ask, not looking over at her. She doesn't respond for a few seconds and you begin to wonder if she even heard you. "Do you love him?" She asks. Your cheeks get hotter and hotter, embarrassed by her question. "Love? I- I barely know him..." You nervously twiddle your thumbs. It's true, you barely know him...but you can't help the way your heart flutters at the word: love. You'd never been in love before...but if you're being completely honest with yourself, you can't deny that this feeling within you is nothing like the crushes you've had in your youth. This is a heavy, sticky feeling- a painful yet exhilarating condition of the heart. Love...how could you dare to speak it out loud? "Only you can answer that," B/f/n says, referring to the initial question, "And once you do, the next question is...now that you've gotten to know him, could you see yourself going back to the way life was without him?" "B/f/n! Can you please help me with this? I can't decide if I want them to out the couple's table on the left or right side!" Mrs.Jeon calls out. "Bridesmaid duty calls," She says to you before jogging over to the far end of the ballroom to give her input.

Her question stays with you, like a heavy boulder on your shoulders. The truth is, you know you can't go back. Not now...not after all of this... You guess you have your answer.

You toss and turn all night, your dreams plagued with nightmare scenarios of how it might go during the ceremony. One moment, Jungkook is saying 'I do', and then you somehow morph into Lisa before he can kiss you. In another moment, he's completely walking away and running out of the church, holding Lisa by the hand. It feels like the night only lasts as much as the blink of an eye before B/f/n is shaking you awake, her hair disheveled and eyes barely open, "Girl are you okay?" "Wh-what?" "You were like...whimpering in your sleep- and your alarm has been going off for like five minutes." You suddenly become aware of your very loud alarm. "Sorry," You say groggily, reaching over and turning off your alarm, "Just had a rough night." "I can imagine...you're probably feeling really nervous." "Yeah..." You sit up and slouch forward, your eyes locking onto the TV that's already turned on and fixed on the news channel. You mindlessly watch as clips play, one after another- and then you see an image of the Jeons' hotel. It then switches to a reporter who says, "June Company will soon be merging with L/N Co., which will open jobs throughout the country, as well as in Australia, the United States, and Japan."

"Looks like your merger is making headlines," B/f/n says, jaw practically on the floor. Your face is completely frozen and your heart is pounding. You feel as though you may have an enormous panic attack. You obviously know that the Jeons are kind of a big deal, but you didn't realize just how important this was all going to be. "Y/n?" She sees your expression and quickly turns off the television. "Let's just get you ready, yeah? Come on." She helps you out of bed and leads you to the bathroom. You're practically catatonic for the next hour while you brush your teeth and take a quick shower.

You get your hair and makeup done at the other location, having been put up in a room that connects to the ballroom. Mirrors were brought in to aid in the court's preparation. Every few minutes, you look over at the dress that's hung up on the opposite wall from the collapsable vanity where you're sitting. You don't dare take it out of the garment bag for fear of messing it up. Your mind is still so full of thoughts, all shouting at you for individual attention. It's almost like you're on auto-pilot, the makeup artists asks you to tilt your head or suck in your cheeks, or puff out your lips and you do- though it doesn't register that you've been cooperating so well until those odd moments you look in the mirror and realize your face is almost done.

In fact, you're so out of it that you don't notice Lisa come in. Now, your bridesmaids lovingly picked out coordinated velour tracksuits; yours is black, theirs are pink. They even got one for Lisa, but apparently she didn't need it because her dress is already on and her makeup is already done. Of course, she looks beautiful; her dress fits her absolutely perfectly, the silk fabric laying beautifully on her hips, and the color compliments her skin tone so that she looks like a pretty little porcelain doll...but fuck her. "Hey, Y/n would you mind just coming out to do a run through of the walk?" Your mom asks, popping her head into the suite. You nod, standing up and dusting the setting powder off of yourself, all bridesmaids in tow, though at the last second before entering the ballroom, Lisa says, "I'll meet everyone in a few minutes, I just have to run to the restroom really quickly," to which no one responds of even gives a flying fuck about. Because again, fuck her.

You'd practiced the entrance yesterday with everyone except Jungkook who, of course, was in meetings all day as he had been all week. You're surprised he's even found time to marry you today. Right now, he and his groomsmen are all in another part of the hotel getting ready; you're only practicing with the bridesmaids. You all run through it about three times and then head back to the suite to wrap up getting ready. One by one, all your bridesmaids slip on their dresses and jewelry and head to the next room over to start recording their video diaries for when you put the wedding video together. You're the only one who has yet to put on your dress. You needed the moment to be private; a second to gather your thoughts. You close the door to the suite and then slowly walk over to the garment bag. "This is it..."

You take off your tracksuit and lay it neatly on a nearby chair, leaving yourself in only your pretty, white, lacey bra and delicate silk, white panties with a small bow at the front. B/f/n had insisted you wear them so you could feel beautiful through and through- you initially thought it was an unnecessary detail, though as she is about most things, B/f/n was absolutely right- you do feel beautiful. You gingerly pull down the zipper of the garment bag, revealing the big white gown. Just as beautiful as you remember it from the fitting. You take it off of the hanger and walk over to one of the mirrors leaned against the wall. You step into the gown and pull it up- of course, you'll need help lacing it in but you just want an intimate moment to look at yourself. You press it against your chest and look up at your reflection-

and then the blood drains from your face.

You feel your hands get stiff and ice cold, and you feel that familiar tightness in your chest.

The panic attack that could not come to fruition this morning has now returned with a vengeance, and you are doubled over, sturggling for oxygen.

Cuts. Cuts everywhere. All over the skirt of the dress. Deep, angry slashes. How did I not see them before? How did I miss them? Were they there when I got to the hotel after the fitting? No, it couldn't be- B/f/n put it in the trunk and then hung it up at our hotel room... when did this happen?

Tears stream down your face as you slump forward in the chair. It's drafty in this suite but you can't bring yourself to put the tracksuit back on, or even to move at all beyond the violent jerking of your shoulders with every sob. "Y/n, Y/n, are you okay!?" B/f/n runs over to you, having just finished her recording, "What happened!?" You can't even speak, you just point to the mound of fabric on the floor that once was your dress...that once was the dress. She picks it up off the ground and holds it up, her mouth immediately falling open in disbelief. She's just as confused as you are. "What- how even- This dress was in perfect condition when I brought it here. I checked," She says angrily, trying to rack her brain just like you had only moments ago. Your crying intensifies, a strong feeling of defeat washing over you.

"Oh, Y/n," Her face softens and she hugs you tightly. "I don't know what the hell I'm gonna do. That was the dress. That was the last shred of hope I had for this God-forsaken marriage. Now what? I have no dress, I haven't seen Jungkook once since I've been back. I have nothing left in me to give..." She lets you cry into her chest for a moment before pulling away, "Okay, we have a little less than an hour before the ceremony. Let me see what we can do." She runs out of the room and then you're alone again. Completely and utterly alone...

About fifteen minutes go by and not a single person has entered the suite. You assume they're all trying to figure out what happened and how to help. Your cries have quieted down a bit but still have not ceased. You feel broken and you're tired of fighting it.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

You're snapped out of your thoughts, head lifting up and looking toward the door, "Come in," You say, your wavering voice just loud enough to be heard from the other side. The door opens slowly, and you expect to see B/f/n or maybe your mom, but instead, Jungkook walks in, his expression soft and solemn as he closes the door behind him.

"Hey, Y/n."

A/N: Hope you all liked it! Plz comment and DM for suggestions on what you'd like to see happen next in the story; you might inspire me <3

Also, I am so honored that ppl would want me to tag them in the next part. To know anyone likes this series enough to keep up with it is so heartwarming. So, with that being said:

@ttanniett <3

#bts #jungkook #jin #namjoon #suga #bts imagine #jimin #bangtan sonyeondan #angst #jungkook x reader #seoekjin #yoongi #kim taehyung

[daandyli0n]

(discussions of religion)

y’know what? screw it, i’m gonna say it:

yes, i’m a christian

yes, i’m also lgbtq+

it is possible to be both

so you know what? i’m gonna spread a bit of positivity

to the lgbtq+ christians who can’t come out because they are surrounded by Those Christians™

i’m sorry, i honestly feel you, you’re valid, and i really do hope that things will get better for y’all

have a nice day 💖

#lgbtq+ #slight religion vent incoming #just. y'all can tell that this post is Personal huh? #look. i try not to discuss religion too much on here #cause i know that some of y'all probably don't wanna hear about that s**t #can't blame y'all honestly. i get tired of hearing about it a lot too #but this? i feel like there are some people who might need to hear this #to know 'Yeah! there are people out there with those struggles too!' #look. i can't discuss lgbtq+ topics on my streams cause my dad watches them. that and my family is subscribed to my Youtube channel #i can't come out to my family cause i know they won't accept me #they aren't abusive. it's just. i know that they'll judge me for it and all that #going to church on sunday mornings and wednesday nights is a 50/50 shot between it being a Regular Sermon #and something that feels like a personal 'f**k you and f**k your friends' #and heck! even the Regular Sermons might have a Comment™ thrown in there! #I Can't Even Use The Correct Pronouns For One Of My Friends In Front Of My Family. I Have To Misgender Them #it's just. it gets Tiring y'know? #why do y'all think i reblog the occasional post dunking on Those Christians™? it's cause i agree. it sucks #and i'm saying that as a CHRISTIAN #like. i'm willing to admit that Yeah. People In My Religion Suck. Not Gonna Disagree With Y'all There #just. jeez. can people in my religion be Not Horrible. For Five Minutes #Why Do They Think That Other People Just. Don't Like Them? #dear lord #anyway. rant over #hope i could spread some positivity <3 #ranting raving and venting time #<my vent tag that i barely use