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sp1rit-realm · 4 days

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༻¨*:· 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄 ·:*¨༺

༻¨*:· summary ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 remus is used to the same day, and then you come into his life.

༻¨*:· notes ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 please give me some grace. i havent written a full on fic in... a hot second 𖦹 record shop owner!remus x fem!reader (she/her prns) 𖦹 sirius uses he/they prns 𖦹 also. reader moves to england so she doesnt have british accent. yeah. 𖦹 lily evans being the best 𖦹 FLUFF (everyone cheered!) 𖦹 [brief] ANGST (everyone cried!) 𖦹 not proofread

༻¨*:· words ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 2.7k

Routine—a very familiar word to Remus. His days were the same. Wake up, go to work, go home, shower, then sleep. He ate the same thing for breakfast and the same thing for lunch. Dinner was the only thing he frequently changed—maybe one day, he would have pasta, and the next, he would have chicken. He hung out with friends on Saturday, and they went to the same pub every time. The topics were usually the same. Sirius met someone new, someone they claimed to be "The One," only for that person to leave their life. James usually talked about training, Lily, and updates on her pregnancy. Since school ended, things had become... predictable.

You walked into the rickety old record shop, intent on finding your favorite album. It broke on the move to the UK, and you needed it desperately.

Upon hearing the bell ring, Remus looked up. It was part of his routine—to see who had entered his shop—and there you stood, tote bag in hand with messy, windblown hair.

After searching through the Rock section for ages, you practically squeal when you see the album.

Remus looks up as you walk to the counter, "Hi."

"Hi," You smile. Your accent throws Remus off, and he smiles.

He looks at the record, then puts it down, "We have this in a white vinyl," He says, "I— I didn't mark it as colored, so you probably didn't see it. I can go grab it for you?"

You eagerly nod, "That would be fantastic!"

He stands, and you realize how tall he is—it's like he's towering over you.

A moment later, he returns with the other record, "They're hard to come by," He scrawls something on the record sheet, then rings up the album.

You thank him and pay, leaving him to wonder if you'll be back.

The next time you see him, he's with a pretty girl. She's got bleached blonde hair and a cute button nose. She's beautiful. Of course, you recognize the tall man—how could you not? He and the girl make their way to the counter; they both order.

"For Remus," A woman calls out.

Remus—that's his name.

Remus steals glances at you the entire time he's at the coffee shop.

"Who's that?" Marlene asks with a coy smirk.

"I don't know. Came into the shop a couple of weeks ago."

"Oh, so you have a little crush." Marlene is full-on smirking now.

Remus goes red, "What? No." He shakes his head, "No," He repeats, trying to reassure himself that he doesn't have feelings for you.

"Sure," Marlene mutters, taking a sip of her drink.

Remus rolls his eyes.

About a month passes by until you see one another again. You walk into the shop. Remus looks up when the bell rings, and he smiles.

Sirius is there today, and they go up to you.

"What're you looking for?"

You answer, and he leads you to the section as if you don't know the alphabet. He doesn't mean it that way, you know that.

Still, you tease them about it, and their face goes stark red, "Sorry. I just— Sometimes record shops can be confusing in how they order things. Like, when it goes from 'C' to 'D,' does the 'D' section continue on the other side, or does it continue straight across? You know?"

"I'm kidding around," You smile, "I've been here before. Granted, it was just once, but I know how it works. Thank you, though."

"But of course," Sirius curtsies, "Anything for you..."

"Y/n," You introduce yourself.

"I'm Sirius. Like the star," He clarifies, "Like, that's my name. S-i-r-i-u-s," They spell out.

You giggle, "Nice to meet you, Sirius."

"Nice to meet you. I love your silly accent, by the way."

"You're the one with the silly accent," You shoot back.

"Not when my accent is outnumbering yours."

You tilt your head and hum, "Strangely, I understand what you mean."

"It'd be concerning if you didn't."

"Do you frequent this shop a lot?" You ask, flipping through albums.

"My friend is the owner." Sirius shrugs.

You perk up, "Remus?"

Sirius quirks their brow, "You know him?"

You get hot, "No."

He narrows his eyes, "So, how do you know his name is Remus?"

"Well," You whisper, "I came in a while ago. He was really nice when I checked out. Then, a couple of weeks later, I saw him at a coffee shop, and they said his name when his drink was ready."

"You're a creep," Sirius raises his eyebrows.

"No!" You argue.

"Such a creep." Sirius begins walking away; you rush to follow him, "I'm telling him." He says.

You begin to panic, "Wait! No!"

Sirius keeps walking to the front.

"Sirius," You whine, "Stop!"

"Remus!"

You silently will him to stop.

"Remus!" Sirius calls again.

"Lovely lady over here has something to tell you," He smirks.

If looks could kill, Sirius would be six feet under.

"I just– um–" You sputter out, "I just wanted to thank you for helping me with the record last time I was here."

You swear he blushes, but you don't want to look to find out.

"It was no problem," He smiles, "Maybe I could give you a call if any of their other records come in?"

Sirius smirks from the sidelines.

"Um..." It takes a moment to process, "Sure." You nod assertively, "Yeah. I would love that!"

Remus's world has turned upside down—you keep him on his toes. He stays up because, maybe, you'll call tonight. You eat lunch with him sometimes, and gone are the days when he eats the same thing every day. Gone are the days when he closes up shop at 7:00. Gone is routine.

"Do you want to have dinner tonight?" You ask, wrapping the cord around your finger.

"I'm actually going out," Remus responds. You frown, and your imagination runs wild. What if he's going on a date?

"Hello?" He asks, and you realize you've blocked him out.

"Huh? Sorry?"

"I asked if you wanted to come with me. You can meet my mates. If you want." He spits out. Saying it once is nerve-wracking enough; saying it twice is terrifying because what if you say no? What if you don't want to meet his friends? What if–

"I'd love to!" You cut his frantic thoughts off, and his heart swells.

"Really?" He asks.

"Of course!"

So, now, you're standing in front of a random pub, wondering if he's pranking you. It's been about five minutes, and you know that's not a long time to wait, but your anxiety is getting the better of you.

Then, five turns to fifteen, and you're wondering how pathetic you look.

"Y/n?"

Your head whips to the door, "Sirius? When'd you get here?"

Sirius checks their wrist like they're checking a watch, "'Bout half an hour ago. Did the dimwit not tell you to meet us inside?"

You shake your head, "He said to meet him at the bar. So, I guess he didn't quite specify." You shrug.

"Well, come on in," He holds the door open for you.

You thank Sirius and look around for Remus. He's not hard to spot, and Sirius jogs over to their booth before whispering something into Remus's ear. He looks up and smiles brightly.

"You're here!" He exclaims.

"You're here." You say, tone almost scolding him.

Sirius whispers something else to him.

His face drops, "Oh... sorry for not telling you to meet us inside." His mouth quirks to one side in a guilty expression.

You smile, "It's okay. I forgive you." You sit next to him.

"Oh, thank god," He rests his hand on his chest, "A pretty girl being mad at me would've been my death."

Heat blossoms in your chest.

"So..." James begins, "Now that flirt time is over, can I say hello?"

"Ha!" Sirius barks out, "Flirt time!"

Remus gets warm, "This is James, another one of my school friends. James, this is y/n."

All James says is: "You're his lock screen, y'know?"

Remus kicks him under the table.

"I mean–" James smiles, "Hello, it's nice to meet you. I have never seen your face before."

"Smooth," Sirius whispers to James.

You smile at Remus's red face.

"Ignore him, please?" He begs.

You nod.

Sirius and James tell you embarrassing stories about Remus for the rest of the night, and the boy starts to regret introducing you to them as a pair.

At the end of the night, he drops you off.

Rubbing his face, he sighs, "I hope they weren't too much."

You smile brightly, and Remus feels like he could fall to his knees, "I had an amazing time. They're really fun, Remus."

You leave him with a kiss on the cheek—he puts his hand up to the spot and smiles the whole way home.

"I've missed you," You say into the phone.

"I've missed you, too. You should just let me come over." Remus begs for the umpteenth time.

"I don't want to get you sick," You frown, "That would be horrible."

"It wouldn't be the end of the world. We could quarantine together," He smirks, "I could make you soup, and we could cuddle together on the couch and watch some ridiculous rom-com."

"Take a girl out on a date first!" You joke.

"I would if you weren't so busy being poorly." Remus groans.

"So you're asking me out on a date?" You smile and do a little happy dance.

"I guess I am."

He's smug, and you can tell.

A week later, you sit in a fancy restaurant—the kind where the prices aren't even on the menu. Remus is fidgety. He's wearing his nicest button-down, and you think it looks funny on him. He gets red at your comment and looks down at the table with pursed lips.

"I just meant that I'm so used to you wearing those comfy sweaters. You look good, though." You earnestly smile at him.

"You look nice tonight, yourself."

"Well, I'm going on a date with this charming boy. I wanted to impress him."

"I hear he's very impressed."

You insist on paying, but he won't let you. As soon as you pull out your wallet, he snatches it from you.

He kisses you before leaving you at your car, and you don't want it to stop. It's soft and tender, and it's everything you hoped it would be.

One date turns to two, which turns to five, and now you're anxiously pacing in your flat. You're dating Remus; you have been for a few months, and you're not sure when it's an appropriate time to ask the question, but you'll ask tonight. Except Remus doesn't come. He doesn't call, either.

After an hour of worrying, you call Sirius.

"Hello?" He answers—it's obvious he's high.

"Hi. Do you know where Remus is?"

Sirius laughs, "Right here."

"Can I talk to him?"

You hear rustling as Sirius passes the phone.

"Hello?"

"Remus," You whine.

"Hey there. What's going on?" He's calm—too calm. He's also high.

"You were supposed to come over tonight." You frown—it's a fruitless effort. He can't see you.

"Shit. 'M sorry, baby," He frowns, too. You can hear it.

"'S okay. I was just really looking forward to seeing you." You dramatically slide down your wall into a crouching position.

"I'd come over, but, y'know," He wanders off.

"You're so high you can barely walk?" You offer.

He takes it, "Yes."

"It's alright," You sigh, and Remus feels terrible, "Promise you'll come over tomorrow?"

"Promise," He answers.

But then tomorrow comes, and Remus has yet to show up. So you dial his number, but he doesn't pick up. An hour passes until your phone rings, and you're anxious and giddy and hopeful as you pick it up.

"Sorry." Remus's voice is gruff, and you can hear the guilt in his tone.

"It's okay. You can still come over. It's not too late."

"No," He sighs, "I'm sorry, but I can't... I have to break up with you."

Your face drops with your stomach, "What?"

"I can't be with you. I'm— I'm sorry."

"No!" Tears blur your vision, "You can't just tell me we're over. Explain yourself!"

"I just can't do it anymore. It's too hard."

You choke out a sob, "What's too hard? Loving me?"

"No," He sighs, and he sounds tired, oh so tired, "I'm incapable of giving you what you need."

"And who gets to say what I need?"

"Y/n, for your sake, I'm ending this. I can't provide for you in the way you'll need me to."

"Remus," You sigh, "I don't understand. What do you mean you 'can't provide' for me?"

"I can't emotionally be there for you. I'm sorry."

And as you hear the dial tone, you let your sobs out.

You feel empty. Your only friends are Remus's; now you feel like you can't talk to them.

"You're daft," Sirius scolds, "Y/n was lovely, and you break up with her over the phone?!"

Remus hangs his head in shame, "Yeah, I did."

Then Remus looked up and was met with one of his worst fears. He'd been on Lily Evans's bad side more than once, but never like this. He'd only seen this stare a handful of times, but not once was it directed at him, until now.

She marches over to the booth, never breaking her stare, leans close to Remus, and slaps him, "You twat!"

He doesn't know what to say, so he holds his cheek and waits for her to continue.

"You hurt an exceptionally lovely girl for what?! Because you're insecure? Because it was too scary to feel loved so deeply? That girl gave you her all, Remus! And this is how you treat her?" Lily's face is red at the end of her rant, and Sirius tries to hold in their snickers.

Lily narrows her eyes at Remus, "I can read you like a book, Remus Lupin. I know what's going on in that magnificently stupid head of yours! Go apologize to her!"

"I can't," He murmurs, "I've already ruined it."

She rolls her eyes, "You won't know unless you try, and not knowing will eat at you, and you will die confused, sad, and alone."

"She has a point," Sirius agrees, "I mean... we all know you'll just mope around until we push you to talk to her, but by then, it'll be too late. She will have found somebody, and they'll get married, and you'll just be that bloke from when she moved here. Go talk to her."

"What do I say?"

It's almost midnight when a knocking at your door wakes you. Groaning, you get out of bed and make your way to the door.

You undo the bottom lock, keeping the chain in place.

"Yes?" You peek through the crack, surprised to see Remus holding flowers on the other side.

"I'm sorry."

He thinks he's surely blown it when you close the door, but he hears the chain clanking as you fully unlock it.

"What are you doing here?"

Remus wants to cry at the sight of you. Your eyes are bloodshot and puffy, with red tracing your waterline.

"I—" He has a whole script planned out but seems to have forgotten every word, "I have flowers," He settles on.

"For me?"

He nods.

"What are you doing here?" You ask again, taking the flowers.

"I'm here to apologize. I was a dick the other day."

You tilt your head, "You mean the other day when you broke up with me?"

Remus almost doesn't catch the sarcasm, "I'm sorry. I get so caught up in my head—"

You turn from him, "Come in," You mutter as you walk into your kitchen.

He closes the door behind him and toes his shoes off, "I get scared when I let somebody get too close."

"Tea?"

"Yes, please."

He watches as you move around your kitchen, grabbing cups and boiling the water. He's missed you.

"Why let me get close at all, then?"

"Because I like you."

You turn and look at him, "Do you, now?"

Remus sighs, "Look, I fucked up, I know that. Do you think we can try again?"

You walk over to him, "You said you can't give me what I need. What does that mean, Remus?"

"I'm unfit to be with somebody."

"I don't think so. You were wonderful the past three months. So wonderful that I think, if you work on yourself, we can give this another go."

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, leaning in.

"I look terrible," You laugh.

"No," He rests his forehead against yours, "You're always beautiful."

"Kiss me."

hi guys sorry if this is bad😇😇

my lovely mutuals <33 @sepptember @violetteshoneybee @ay0nha @maroon-winestain @prongsio @imabee-oralizard @storyofaromance @queerpumpkinnn @doyouknowwhoyouare13 @zvdvdlvr @reysdriver @g1rld1ary @starsval @vampieteeth @maddipoof @bruisedboys @ell0ra-br3kk3r

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silvery-orchid · 11 months

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i cant describe how down bad I am for your writing of neuvillette. The unbalanced power dynamic??? THE WAY HE MAKES THE READER LISTEN TO HIM REJECT THE WOMEN? THE TEA!! I love the flour in the reader’s hair, man goes through all 5 stages of grief,, your writing of him is so immaculate ahhh. please spare us just another crumb of your thoughts on yan! neuvillette

Omg my first ask on this blog and its about yan! Neuvillette. Thank you so much 🥺🥺. I can't wait to get more info on him so that i can actually shape up one shots and have them be accurate but,,,many,,plently,,too many thoughts and scenarios are tumbling round like a golf ball in my mind and here are some of them: (some are nsfw)

Imagine that he is indeed khaenri'an. Now imagine that he was your lover before he was forced into the curse. Imagine that somehow (istaroth) freezed you in time until you woke up again so many years later. You end up in fontaine and meet him again and how wonderful that is. But what you dont know is that your lover has changed so much that his tight hugs and new jewelry and new clothes and new clingly behaviour are indicative of not just him missing you - its him wanting to own you. But he tells you of all the horrors he went thought while you were forturnate enough to not see those. (Yes, you being fortunate is his manipulation tactic.) So how can you blame him for being more possessive now when he loves you so? He makes it seem like you have independence but you can't find a job anywhere, you have no documents on you so you cant find a place to live and you dont have enough mora to even try. But he has all of it. And he loves you. So you have to trust him when he says working for him and fulfilling all of his wants will help you.

Regardless of his origin, I think Neuvillette would want his darling to get pregnant as soon as he kidnapped them. It would help with your bonding and he will own his darling in a way nobody else ever has. But you are in cahoots with a nice pharmacist woman who gives you different blends and pills to ensure you never do. Uhm good luck when he finds out. Scurrying to him or from him wont help much.

I also love the thought of Neuvillette getting corrupted himself from how innocent a darling is but sexually,,,morally,,,corrupted swoons...(stealing your possessions so you dont notice kind of thing.)

Neuvillette who orchestrated your trial when you have fate in the justice system and locked you up in a cage just to have you only do things for him.

More of forced marriage with him!! More!! You were sold for a collaboration as collateral and you hate him. You hate him so much. But hes so good in bed that you rile him up on purpose!! It becomes like you enjoy all of his punishments and only when he refuses to punish you once for flirting with another man is when you tear up and realize the physical pleasure he gives u has deeply effected your mental state. (I need to fuck this man can you feel that?) I like to think hed force you to fuck the man you flirted with too but as he watches just to prove how horrible sex is with someone that isnt him,,,can i get a TATTA PIC NEUVILLETTE PLEASE.

#asks.#yandere genshin x reader #yandere neuvillette #yan neuvillette #genshin neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #genshin yandere

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missglaskin · 2 years

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hiii! literally love the yandere!hotd, read every bit i have question i know rhaenyra is heir to the throne but have Viserys thought about making Y/N a an heir to the throne? thank u!!!!

I have plenty of others requesting something similar, so I combined them (:

Also, if anyone wishes to have concepts asked about this or add their insight into this, I would love it

Yan!HOTD Au, what if Viserys made the reader his heir instead of Rhaenyra?

With the death of the queen and Young Baelon dying not long after; The succession of the king came to question.

Despite Daemon being the expected heir, the council divided over the matter but cut short when Viserys demanded that no further discussion be held.

Before so, Otto proposed the king's firstborn child or, more specifically, his second child as a potential heir.

Lyonel laughs in disbelief, saying it's one thing to have a female heir, but to have a second child as an heir is just absurd. Tyland also scoffs at the notion; it’s insulting enough that the king made the realm accept you as his child. However, he refrains from saying it out loud, mindful of the last man whose tongue was cut off for making such remarks courtesy of the rogue prince.

When Daemon did what he did, coining young Baelon as "heir for a day," it was the final nail in the coffin.

In such a short time, Viserys has demanded to see you. As you face the black dread skull, Viserys shares with you Aegon's prophecy and his dream of a song of ice and fire.

In an instant that would forever change your life, he named you his heir.

You are dressed for the coronation by Rhaenyra and Alicent. When Alicent notices your trembling hands, she tells you to take deep breaths as Rheanyra reaches for your hands. Rhaenyra’s eyes are tinged with sadness, but she still gives you a smile.

Your father is seated on the iron throne behind you as you stand in front of the court. Every lord bows down, swearing fealty but you can see their hesitation and disbelief. The first man who seemed sincere in his fealty was the sea snake.

Otto appears pleased as you look over the court, and Alicent smiles at you in support. Rhaenyra is standing close by and nodding as well, though her eyes still carry a hint of sadness. Rhaenys gives you a look that you're not sure whether it's one of worry or pride.

You finally turn to face your father, he's beaming with pride, and you can't help but become teary-eyed.

With Otto, he always thought he had your best interests in mind. Otto felt the need to make choices for you as you were still a child. Never mind the fact you were going to become a queen one day. Rhaenyra is the one who pushes you to speak up for yourself.

While Rhaenys counsels that the only way you'll gain respect is if you demonstrate, you can command the room. To others, Rhaenys may seem envious or harsh, but she’s genuinely looking out for you.

In the meantime, your father will have to marry again, and you better pray it won't be a son. After all, as history has shown, men will rather put a torch to the throne than have a woman sit on it. Rhaenys also says this to Corly, who assures her that it won't ever happen and that if it does, the fleet and army of Driftmark will be at your service.

Many anticipate that Daemon will be furious that a young girl was chosen over him, taking his claim. Daemon may harbor some resentment, but he will swear allegiance to you; never can he hate you. Whoever doubts your ability will have to answer to him.

When Alicent wed your father and gave birth to a son named Aegon. Given that Aegon may one day become his successor, they all expected you to despise him. Instead, they all look on with disbelief as they watch you play with the boy.

As previously mentioned, everyone anticipates Viserys to cast you aside and choose Aegon as his heir, but he refuses to do so. He promises you he will never go back on his word.

Alicent tells her father that she will never allow her son to steal the birthright from his sister. Otto responds she won't have to, which only confuses Alicent further because he also says that Aegon will still be king.

Alicent didn't comprehend what her father meant until Aegon reached adulthood, and she realized that by making Aegon king, he will have Aegon wed you.

However, as Aegon develops into the man he's, Aemond emerges as the better choice. They were unaware that Aemond overheard the conversation and took their words to heart. He already did, but he started devoting more of his days to sword training and studying philosophy and history.

Being married to you entails becoming a king consort, but Aemond didn't mind; in fact, he didn't mind you holding power alongside him as a sort of advisor.

History has portrayed you as a good queen who ruled peacefully, but mushroom has claimed that you occasionally displayed cruelty and that Aemond was the whispering devil on your shoulder.

#yandere concept #yandere hotd #yandere house of the dragon

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15-lizards · 9 months

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please do more gender swaps omg how fucked up do u think the greyjoys would get. personally i just know fem aerons slay would be lethal

A bunch of fem Greyjoys in a heightened masculine culture I want to chew on this (also I know they’re diff races but we can just pretend they’re half sisters)

Bellona Greyjoy might be the worst but she’s also suffered more than jesus. Like she’s literally the eldest of nine daughters on the brutally aggressive and hyper masculine iron islands she’s allowed to be a little crazy. Had to develop a very blunt, abrasive, stubborn personality from an early age just to keep her head above the water. Did everything the men did and did it all at an earlier age, just to prove herself a capable heir. Fighting, sailing, and reaping were all learned very quickly. She took the Seastone chair after her father died during the rebellion, and managed to keep most dissent at bay. To please her vassals and to fuel her own pride, she had the islands return to the Old Way, shunning the reforms her father had made. This let her believe that Roberts rule was unstable and the kingdoms were ripe for the picking, leading to her own rebellion. Even after two children die and another is taken hostage she decides it’s a good idea to do it all over again nine years later. Leave her alone she’s mentally fractured.

Don’t say you like crazy women if you can’t handle Eydis Greyjoy. She never had to try as hard as Bellona, she just knew that she commanded power, fear, and respect without even trying (which means she’s especially insane). She commanded her own ships during Roberts Rebellion, but afterwards, there was quite a bit of trouble with her and one of Victaria’s husbands, leading to her banishment by Bellona, who never had much affection for her to begin with. She has since then been exploring and pillaging all of the known world with her loyal men on the Silence, claiming she has seen an experienced more than any other explorer ever could. After her elder sisters mysterious death (which coincides with her mysterious arrival) Eydis stands for the Kingsmoot, claiming she is the better choice than any of her sisters or nieces. The islanders, seeing her more as a bold and cunning man instead of a woman, they choose her for their king.

Victaria took a leaf out of Eydis’ book and became a respected soldier and captain without much effort due to her aggressive and brash character, but she lacks the cunning and wits of her elder sister. As dumb as she is, she is still a fearsome warrior, unafraid of death and even respecting her enemies who die with bravery. She follows Bellona without question, believing in the greatness of her elder sister. However she doesn’t have the same reverence for Eydis, hating how her sister would poke fun at her “womanly genius” in front of her own men. (There’s a lot of internalized misogyny going on on these islands if you couldn’t tell). All three of her husbands have died in and the only child she had was stillborn. She has salt wives of her own, but when Eydis seduced her third husband, she nearly killed her sister but she was banished instead due to Victaria’s fear of the sin of kinslaying. Her husband, however, was killed by Victaria herself, enraged that he allowed another woman to have him.

Aerona was once a wild, brash girl like the rest of her sisters. She enjoyed to drink and dance and juggle and jape, to flirt with her fathers men, to ride horses wildly, and to sail on treacherous waters. Her sisters often called her a better fit as the kings court jester. However, during her sisters rebellion, her ship was capsized and she nearly drowned of the coast of Fair Isle, washing ashore and being taken prisoner by the Lannisters. This near death changed her, becoming an ascetic, cold, hard young woman, taking up the mantle of a priestess of the drowned god. She spends her time preaching the path of her god, spurning any behavior which she doesn’t consider pious. Despite the iron islanders general lack of respect for women, she is widely revered for her priesthood and men often come to her asking for her blessings. She seems to enjoy none of her sisters, but is especially fearful of Eydis, running away when she comes back from exile

(Ignore the modern clothes I just wanted the face claim) (also yes I’m using the same pic from my other fem theon face claim but I just like it so much) Bonus Asha and Thea. Cocky asshole hostage Thea who wants to be the son her mother raised her and her sisters to be, but Bellona despises her for forgetting the old ways and assimilating to the starks. Doubly stings because she treats Asha like a proper son and heir but not her. Does everything for mommy’s approval and ends up a shell of her former shelf :/ causal Iron Islander Tuesday

#asoiaf #also Asha is still a girl bc I can’t bear to turn her into a man I just can’t #also Greyjoys matriarchal drama with no men involved is just too good #I need to find out who that Asha face claim is btw…need her

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yourangel137 · 10 months

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Bloodstains on the curtain /chapter 1

Here is chapter one! I hope you all like it, I'm very proud of it myself so it's okay if you don't like it <3 @weney specifically made for u tbh

Pairings: yandere/murderer!Childe x GN!reader

Warnings: Murder, Blood, panic, stress

Genre: Angst (+ small bit of fluff)

Type: series

Word count: 1117 words

Summary: Why do you have to fall for him out of everyone? You know damn well you caught him in the act of murdering someone.. but you’re wrapped around his finger.. Turning a blind eye for him and only him.

I wish I didn’t see that, but I did.

You wipe the slightly sticky liquid off your hand with the towel you found in your gym bag. Breath is uneven, showing signs of anxiety and fear. Your eyes saw more than they wanted to see, yet your brain can not comprehend what exactly happened right before you. Remembering the details, how your body stood stiff from fear before the scene of horror u witnessed. How did you manage to even escape such a horrible scene? How did you manage to silently step away and he didn’t notice it? Did he notice you though, but decide to ignore you? He knows, you know he knows, but why are you still here? Why are you still alive? Why did he spare you?

You look at the towel in your hands, covered in the substance you once had on your hand. Never in your wildest dreams did you expect to touch the blood from a dead student you once knew. ‘Will I be next in line?’ You think to yourself, a thought you hoped you never had to think about. A big lump of saliva almost chokes you up, stomach aching and gurgling up acid from feeling sick. ‘Where is my phone??’ You search in your bag for your phone, eventually finding it in the side pocket next to your headphones. Quickly you dial the emergency number and wait for someone to pick up. The moment someone starts talking on the other line your brain speeds up a speech to tell them. “You’re speaking to Y/N L/N, please send the police!”

“Please calm down L/N, Can you tell me what happened?”

Your shaking continues as you find yourself sit down on the chair in the classroom you ended up running in. You took some deep breaths before answering the lady on the other line. “I-“ You swallow down a bit lump of saliva. “I witnessed one of the students being stabbed by an unknown man. Please! Please send help! I don’t know if the man is still here and I have no idea what to do! I’m located at **** University. Please send help!”

“Help is on the way L/N. Please stay on the line until help has arrived. Are you alone right now? Where are you located?”

With shaky breath you look around, not fully sure which classroom you ended up in. “U-uhm I don’t know.. I forgot..” The hallway outside the classroom once silent begins to echo the sound of footsteps. Footsteps light and airy, almost as if someone is happily skipping around unbeknown of the horror that happened in the gym changing room. How long has it been since you found out? Since you saw the murder happen before your very own eyes? “Can you go outside and check for me? The police will escort you out of your school safely.”

“U-uh.. I hear footsteps.” You whisper out the words, afraid to be heard by the person outside the classroom. “Okay, Are you located on the ground floor?”

“Yes. I am.”

“Alright, please stay on the line. Can you describe what you saw?” Your memories of the event flash before your eyes once more. The blood splashes on the walls, the man with the black mask on, the dead body of a woman on the ground. Everything feels like an explosion in your brain, causing a headache you rather not experience right now. Dissociation happens, body becoming weak once again, tear stained cheeks glowing from exhaustion and eyes slightly dilating. “Hello? Are you still there?” Your train of thoughts can’t seem to be broken yet.

“Y/N? Why are you in this classroom alone?”

The sudden voice appearance makes you gasp in surprise and you start choking on your saliva. Your eyes dart to the door, eyes full of fear and anxiety. “Oh my god, Y/N are you okay?!” You watch your best friend run up to you and you are too slow to react before you feel his arms pull you into a hug. “Hello? Are you still there?” The voice on the phone called out.

You feel your best friend let go of you before you watch him grab your phone and start talking. “Hello? Who is this?”

...

“Ah.. emergency services? Yes, I see. You’re talking to Tartaglia, their friend. I came to pick them up and I found them in a classroom.”

...

“It’s classroom 15A on the ground floor. Yes we’ll stay on the phone till then.” Tartaglia gives you your phone back before sighing and sitting down next to you. “What happened? Let’s stay calm okay? I’ll keep you safe, I promise.” He shows his usual soft smile towards you, the smile you ended up loving more than anyone elses smiles.

“I went to the gym changing room.. A-A friend forgot something and I came to grab it.. but in the showers.. I turned on the lights and I saw a man hovering over a dead girls body a-and he had a knife. I ran..”

The lady on the phone listens close, just like your friend does. The panic is clearly seen in your body language but also in the way you communicate. Trembles in your voice, stutters and heavy breathing, making it very difficult to understand. “It’s going to be okay L/N. Your help has arrived.” The lady speaks out on the phone and you soon start hearing many footsteps echo through the once empty hallway and towards the classroom you’re located at. “You’re safe.”

The classroom door opens and the police enter it, they immediately go to your side and check up on you. The other police make their way to the crime scene, a scene so bloody its best to close off the school so they can do full research on it. In the end, research teams enter the school too to check out the crime scene. Despite how desperate you are to know more about the murder and what clues they might be finding, it’s best for your own safety to stay by the side-line for now until they reach out for you to ask you questions. Your friend Tartaglia keeps you close, being sure to make you feel safe while explaining to the police what he was doing at school and what he witnessed by himself while being in school. He provides his own alibi to the police and it all seems to check out in the very end, but one thing seems off to you. You aren’t fully sure but.. You could’ve sworn you saw those keychains at the crime scene as well..

I wish I didn’t see that, but I did.

Hope u liked chapter one! Have a lovely day<3

Much love, angel

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eclecticpatrolroadlawyer · 2 years

Text

Champagne problems

Masterlist

Parings: CEO! Bucky x reader, Bucky x Dot.

Warnings: little 18+ thoughts so MINORS DNI, angst, depressive thoughts.

Notes: Bold and italic ones are thought. Only italic ones are memories.

As you were laughing with her and playing with her hair like you used to do with mine, I sat at the table across you watching you and her laughing.

I smiled at the scene in front of me as if I am happy but inside I knew I was dying. As if slowly, each of my petals of once bright flower dying like my hopes for getting your love back.

I looked back at the champagne glass in my hand. I remember the day I lost all your love. The day, I broke your trust and hope as if nothing. The day, when you also lost trust in love. That day, I lost everyone who loved me. The day, my bright life came to an end. Just because I was scared... 'Scared' that's all I was. Just to lose everything in my life.' Scared' thinking everything's gonna change. 'Scared' to be a failure... 'Scared' to say yes that day... If only I was brave enough...

Today is Bucky's parent's anniversary. Even though I know his family hated me, Bucky's love and support are always there to back me up. I smiled at the thought of how Buck always assures me that his never-ending love will always be there for me. I am a sensitive girl who always gets easily affected by what others think. My inner demons always made it hurt to get rid of the dark thoughts. I always felt suffocated thinking about what others are going to think. Every time I used to go out to parties and other social gatherings, it felt like everyone's eyes are on me judging me, talking about me behind my back. But after getting Buck, I don't remember the last time I worried about that cause he was always there with me no matter what.

I smiled and hummed as if I got myself ready for the anniversary party. I looked at myself to check out if anything was missing. But was interrupted by a sudden knock at the door.

-"Honey, Are you read? Can I come in?" Bucky asked from the other side of the door indicating that it was time.

-"Yeah, one sec please!" I replied.

I checked myself again in the mirror and smirked. I opened the door revealing Buck with his black suit and a few buttons undone. 'Jesus! This man is gonna be the death of me. He is a walking sex god.' I thought as I drooled over the tightness of the shirt as if with a slight movement, the shirt is gonna be ripped. His bulging muscles and biceps make my thigh clench at thought of the things I wanna do.

I snapped out of my thoughts when u felt a little bit of drool at the corner of my lips. I acted as if I wasn't just openly eye fucking my boyfriend. I noticed that Bucky was in no mood of hiding what he was thinking. The way he was eyeing my whole dress out as if he just wanna ditch the party and fuck me until I am begging mess squirming under him begging him to fuck me harder.

-' God! He and his thoughts, the most dangerous things in the world ready to make every woman weak on their knees just for him' I gulped as his now dark blue eyes, filled with lust and desire, flicked up to meet mine.

I smirked at the thought of how much effect I have got on this man.

-"So, should we go, sir?" I asked innocently with my big doe eyes as if I just haven't used his weakness on him just now. He was feral like a hungry wolf whenever he heard me calling him 'sir'.

- "You are playing a dangerous game doll. You and I both know about that. But leave it, cause today's an important day for me and I don't want anyone to become an obstacle, not even you baby." He replied as he engulfed my hand in his intertwining his large rough fingers with mine.

As we arrived at his parent's place, for some reason my mind was screaming for me to turn back. I gulped down the lump forming in my throat nervously as I felt my hand clenching the purse tightly. But soon, I felt safe as Buck again touched my hand to calm down my nerves. I smiled a little assuring him I was okay. I took a deep breath as we got out of the car.

As soon as we entered his parent's house, I came across the judgemental looks of others looking me up and down as if I don't fit with them. I halted in steps to take in the view. I felt my whole body burning to turn around. I didn't know I was having a slight panic attack until I felt a warm hand on my back and his concerned voice asking me to breathe and if I was okay. I looked up at him and nodded.

-Suddenly we were interrupted by his mother's voice coming towards us "Oh! My child! You are looking dashing. I bet every girl here looking forward to spending the night with you."

I felt my body tensing at her last sentence. She said it so casually as if I am not even there. I felt my fist clenching at the thought of how I am not fit in this environment. My inner demons were again laughing at me mocking me for how unworthy I was of him.

-"Well, mom! Of course, there is a girl whom I love to spend my night with and that's my girlfriend Y/n." He said as he took in my hand and smiled at his mom.

I smiled at her greeting her.

-"oh! I didn't even notice you there. Y/n, you are also here. I am glad you came here. I hope you enjoy this party." She said as she put on a fake smile as if she is happy to see me.

-"oh! I forgot Buck. Mr Johnson wanted to meet you and I am sure you have already impressed him as his beautiful loving daughter Dot admires you very much. Why don't you go and meet them and talk to Dot?" She said as she turned her eyes to Bucky.

-"ok! Then, Y/n let's go." He extended his hand toward me.

And when I was going to take his hand, his mother suddenly l kept her hand on mine and said " aww. Buck! I know you love your girlfriend. But, boy! Let me also talk to her. You guys rarely come here. Let me have some time with her so that I can improve our relationship to mother-daughter one"

I tensed at that. 'No, no! Please don't leave me here. No! Please. Don't go please.' I looked at Bucky giving him tight-lipped smile.

-"Umm... Okay! Y/n. You will be okay, right?" He asked with his concerned voice.

-' No! No! I will not be okay' "yeah, I will be. You go and meet them" I smiled.

He nodded and went to meet them. As soon as he was gone, his mother turned toward me and said "Oh! Y/n I would love it if you meet my friends. They wanna have a look at my son's girlfriend."

'Look?' I scoffed at the thought. I know what she meant. She also wanted to show others how unfit I was for this environment. She wanted to show me that I am lucky that all these people are even looking at and judging me. But I smiled and nodded.

As soon as we met her friends, I felt as if I am a rabbit in this Wolf's den. 'Jesus! She meant it when she said they wanna have a look'. The way they looked at me with their judgemental disgusted eyes made me feel suffocated. Still, I greeted each of them politely.

-"So, she is the one huh! mm... What does your family own and what do you do ,darling?" One of her friends asked.

But soon I was interrupted by Bucky's mother who said laughing "Oh! They own nothing. Her father is just a simple government worker and her mother is just a housewife and she is just in (y/j). Nothing at all. Right, Darling? "

I nodded at her words. I felt so pathetic among them. I couldn't even defend my parents. What a daughter am I! I felt ashamed of myself that I was so helpless.

-"oh! By the way, my daughter, Dot, saw your son James and after she returned she just couldn't stop talking about him of how much of an eye candy your son is" Another one said.

-"oh yeah! My son is very handsome. But unfortunately, he is taken. What can we do! I know that your daughter would have been a perfect partner for my son. Just look at them they already look so perfect talking and laughing as if they were just made for each other. They would have been such a great couple if only he wasn't taken by just someone" She replied not bothered that her son was just considered as 'eye candy' in front of her.

I was shocked by her behaviour. How can she not be bothered! James is so much more than that. He deserves everything. He is not just eye candy. I clenched my jaw at the thought. I didn't care how much they disgrace me but at least don't disgrace James. I felt suffocated. I wanted to go home.

-"oh! Come on! Stop it. But yeah my daughter is just so talented and beautiful. No one can compete with her. She has never lost any competition. So, many men have proposed to her but she said that she only wants Bucky. " said Mrs Johnson.

I just couldn't handle it. I had to get out of this. I could feel tears forming in my eyes. Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted when the lights were out and light focused on my figure only.

I looked here and there of getting some hint of what was happening. I panicked but then another light focused on another person. Bucky, was kneeling on one knee with a small box revealing his mother's diamond ring.

-"God created everything to perfection, but I suspect that when God created you, he was showing off. I’d be honoured to show you off too by making you mine. With this ring, I give you my heart. I promise that from this point forward, you’ll never have to walk alone. May my heart be your shelter and arms be your home. It sounds cliche but I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. Not the love that people talk about. But an unexplained attraction, a feeling of home, an urge that I need to talk to this girl and make her mine. All I know is what we’ve shared since the moment we met is special and meant to be preserved. Forever. So, honey, will you marry me?" Bucky asked as he looked up into my eyes.

Right then, I could feel everyone's eyes on me. I could see how Dot's eyes were looking me up and down with a scowl on her face. Everyone was looking at me. Deeply looking into my soul trying to make me weak. To share their thoughts of how I don't deserve to be in them.

I didn't know what to say. I felt my eyes water but didn't know what my eyes are watered for. Were they happy or shameful tears? I gulped and said what I thought was right.

"I am sorry. I can't"

As soon as I said that I ran away from there leaving you out there standing with a broken heart. You held out your hand to spend the rest of my life with you but I dropped it. I bumped into the champagne fountain making them all break down but still, I ran without bothering as I did with your heart dropping it without any bother of looking back at it again. I ran and ran from everything. Everyone. Every fear. After all, that's the only thing I can do. Running.

I didn't know I was crying until a waiter asked me if I was okay.

-"yeah, I am sorry. Ca-Can you please get the bill?" I asked him.

-"Are you sure mam? Cause you didn't order anything except a bottle of champagne " He asked showing concern.

-"Yeah. Just bring the bill please." As I said that I felt someone's eyes on me.

I flicked up to see those beautiful blue eyes looking at me in disbelief. The way his facial expression changed after noticing me, I panicked but I wasn't my past self anymore who showed her weakness. I kept my neutral face on looking at him directly, trying to get to learn how much he has changed since then. His grown beard, hair and everything. I missed those blue ocean eyes. The way it used to look at me. I noticed his dry chapped lips slightly opened in disbelief.

Our moment broke down as the waiter came back with my bill. After paying the bill, I moved on. Again leaving the place, the memories, the life and more especially him. But this time at least he wasn't alone. Goodbye!

A/n (Author's note): yeah! I know it's not an happy ending but that's it. I tried my best to put all the feelings. Hope you like it. Thanks for reading. If you want other prompt, send an ask. Have a nice day Or night!

Note: Hey guys! Hope u like it. English is my second language so if there's any mistake u can inform me by messaging me privately. And PLEASE REBLOG and DON'T STEAL MY WORK. Please like and comment too so, that I can know ur guy's views. Thank u for reading guys! Have a nice day and please comment if u wanna be tagged in.

Taglist: @cjand10 @angstysebfan @marvelogic

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aajjks · 6 months

Note

should they get back together? i mean, the man has said a lot of shitty things to her 👀 called her & yerin a whore, used her abortion against her, basically called her stupid, claimed she never loved him like…😬😬 he’s ❌ TOXIC ❌ but what do you think cus maybe you see a change?

TPOL!JK

you're caught off-guard by the kiss that you don't kiss him back because it's been so long since you've last felt his lips on yours. when he pulls away to look you in your eyes, you're confused. you're always left puzzled by jungkook's actions because what he says and does are always two different things. he agreed the two of you would be better off apart than together, even claiming you didn't love him anymore when you brought the topic up yet here he is kissing you and telling you he loves you.

he always leaves you confused and it's almost like he takes your sincerity for a joke to you and if you weren't so deep in your feelings, you would do it back. maybe that's what maturity does or maybe it's love, who knows?

your response is prolonged but he understands why. he, again, dumped his feelings onto you and is hoping you'll come back to him but there's always a condition when it comes to winning you over.

"u-uh...i don't know what to say. you've become more successful without me, so i-i think i shouldn't. i hope you know i remember all the things you've said to me when you get upset with me and something tells me that if we get back together and i make you upset, you're gonna aim to hurt my feelings again. maybe you don't notice it but you say a lot of things that aren't the nicest. i forgive you for it but i don't want to go through that again. i'm tired of you hurting my feelings, i really am"

“Yn…” he sighs, crossing his hands on his back. You’re not wrong. You both have hurt each other a lot, he’s the one that’s hurt you every time.

Jungkook takes a moment to think about everything, and you’re correct. He’s hurt you too much. But why can’t he stop loving you? Maybe he’s obsessed but he can’t let you go.

“I-I have no excuses for my anger and the things I’ve said to you. I admit that maybe I’m way too toxic for you but I can’t help it. I’m still in love with you.” He is looking at you with desperation and regret.

Regret is always stronger than gratitude.

“I-I can’t promise that I’ll change but I have changed in this time apart yn, I’ve definitely matured, I think my jealousy issues are under control- heck I haven’t touch a woman in the past four years. You’re my only one..” he looks down all of a sudden.

He’s so ashamed.

“J-Just come back to Korea yn.. you’re here all alone. Please I can live my whole life trying to prove to you that I’ve matured for the better and I can.” Jungkook exhales, he’s so nervous.

He really can’t leave you here all on your own.

“I’m sorry for everything yn… I really am… I’m sorry that I didn’t treat you right, I know you e given me so many chances but I blew them… I’m sorry.”

“One last time… come back to me.”

#ask: tpol!jungkook #hmm they belong together and he’s learned a good lesson. yeah he’s definitely toxic and fucked up but… 🥺🥺🥺

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dizzymuses · 1 year

Text

mookda narinrak. cis woman. she/her. ━━ there goes kannika “kai” everett leaving their home in seagate district. the twenty-five year old from new york city, ny works as a motorcycle racer. i’ve heard that they are assertive & dauntless but can also be impetuous & abrasive. they remind me of screeching tires at a sudden halt, a daring smirk painted onto a doll-like face.

hey there, beautiful ! flirting already, so u give me all the juicy plots. i'm daisy, 25 and i go by she/her pronouns. i'm also from cet but usualy quite nocturnal so the hours i'm around are somewhat unpredictable. gotta keep them on their toes. this is kai, she is.... a wild ride (pun intended). honestly, she got created bc i just really wanted a motorcycle racer muse and it didn't get less wild afterwards, so now here we are. i also hardly ever got time to write her frfr sooo, hopefully she will finally have her time to shine here.

basics.

name: kannika “kai” everett.

nicknames: usually goes by kai, family calls her nika.

gender: cis woman.

pronouns: she/her.

age: 25.

date of birth: april 7th 1997.

place of birth: westport, ct

nationality: american

ethnicity: thai.

education: high school degree.

occupation: motorcycle racer.

orientation: bisexual, biromantic.

biography. (-ish?)

kannika was born some 24 years ago in westport, ct, a couple of minutes drive outside of new york city. the only daughter to a bigtime real estate investor and a former miss thailand she was born into money, more money than any single family propbably should have amassed. her mother had always hoped to become a model after her pageant win, her hopes and dreams carrying her all the way to the us but not much further than that. instead she became the trophy wife of one kory everett, heir to the everett group which his family had been building ever since his grandparents arrived in the us. it would be a lie to say that their relationship ever amounted to much beyond a pretty picture, there was never much love lost between them. soon, however, they welcomed their daughter kannika into their lives.

her early childhood kai spent mostly in the company of her grandmother, who had retired earlier and given the post of ceo to her father, and nannies that had been employed to look after her. her father was basically always working, she hardly ever saw him during those years and her mother had never envisioned herself as a housewife and mother so more often than not nyc’s busy social life was calling her outside. still, kai was loved, especially by her grandmother who did most of the work in raising her. she was a strict woman, one who didn’t express her love through hugs and kisses but rather through making her food and admonishing kai whenever she made trouble. her grandmother, even to this day, is the only person kai is even willing to attempt to please, forever grateful to have at least one parental figure who seemed to genuinely care for her.

by the time kai was nine, her parents finally divorced. this came after many months of cruel worlds thrown at one another and many disputes as to how wealth would be distributed between these two. no, it wasn’t pretty and kai tried to be at home as little as possible, preferring to flee to her friends’ houses or stay with her grandmother. once the divorce was finally through, kai spent a year traveling with her mother, having begged and begged to go with her. at this point, staying all along with her father, a man she barely knew and yet didn’t particularly like seemed worse for her than traveling the world with her mother. it only lasted for that long though, since her father then demanded for her to return claiming that the many changes of location would be too unstable an environment for a kid to grow up in. so she returned, half mad and half glad to be with her grandmother again. when she returned she also found her father had remarried to a woman called ilona, yet another pretty face, yet another beauty queen.

ever since that her relationship with both of her parents has become even more difficult. her mother has been barely present in her life, traveling the world, kai often not even knowing where she is at the moment. her father on the other hand drastically started pushing his expectations onto his only daughter and therefore default heir. it were expectations kai could never meet of educational successes and good behavior. she had never had the focus or smarts required to do well in school nor the will to bend herself to the requirements of others. her desires had always been of the more hedonistic nature and so there was always tension between kory and his stubborn daughter.

kai barely managed to graduate high school, her grades looking rather grim but it wasn’t like she was looking forward to joining college or anything like that. sitting around and being taught just wasn’t right for her. instead, she had only one goal. making her hobby of motorbike racing into a genuine occupation, something that her family would have never supported. still, she fought for her dream, leaving westport and starting to pursue her career. while her father didn’t agree in the slightest, it wasn’t like he could very well disinherit the only heir he had. giving the company to somebody who wasn’t a direct descendent had never been considered an option in the everett family. until today this has been working out about as well as it could but the pressure for her to return and finally start learning how to run the business is growing. if it were only for her father’s sake kai would have long since told him to fuck off but she truly doesn’t want to disappoint her grandmother and so she has simply been pushing it off. now, it seems increasingly difficult to continue doing so and soon she will have to come up with a new plan. she has been living in mellott beach for one and a half year now, which is quite considerable for her.

tl;dr: chaotic hot motorcycle-racer

headcanons.

kannika is the name given to her by her grandmother. the whole family took on an english surname when her great-grandparents immigrated to the U.S., in order to avoid prejudice and xenophobia, but her grandmother still wanted kai to have some ties to their thai heritage. she usually gets called nika by her family and some childhood friends but otherwise goes by kai, which she personally does prefer. it’s sounds cool, despite her grandmother laughing at her so bad when she told her for the first time bc kai means chicken in thai. rip, homegirl rlly should have learned thai better ig.

about this... she actually only speaks very broken thai, which her grandma isn’t happy with but it wasn’t really spoken between her parents and her, so she never learned it well enough to have full conversations. she has also only been in thailand a handful of times, they don’t have any close ties to family over there.

kai has always been a bit of a troublemaker. her grandmother tried her very best to make kai a well behaved child and it worked decently well as long as she was around but without grandma to have an eye on her kai did pretty much whatever she wanted. she solved conflicts with fists, giving an innocent smile and big eyes whenever she got caught. even though she was never one of the brightest, she was certainly one of the boldest, never scared to let everybody know exactly what she thought about them or to convince them to join her in her .... questionable ideas. mischievous little mf basically.

takes care of street cats if she sees them around. she also gives them names. never thought about having a cat of her own but she likes strays.

part of the reason why she was never good at school and is so impulsive or even erratic is because kai has been struggling with adhd for the most part of her life. she got the diagnosis for this very late though, in early adulthood.

honestly very incapable of keeping relationships alive. not only of the romantic nature but also that. she doesn’t trust easily because her trust has been broken before but she also doesn’t like to compromise and can be a little too mindless of other people’s feelings. also if she doesn’t see people regularly she tends to just sort of, forget about them. no object permanence even in relation to people.

has lately started making a decent amount of money from social media, her following slowly growing to a degree that makes her interesting for sponsors. u will find her @vroomvroom, where she mostly shows of her bikes, outfits and dry sense of humor.

connections.

okay this will be rough but here are some... ideas.

childhood friends — maybe your muse also grew up in the nyc, new york state region ? maybe they met during summer in the hamptons ? something like that would def be a possibility. maybe your muse got roped into kai’s dumb ideas and they’ve been through some adventures together, maybe they were more of a reluctant participant. this could also be somebody she got even connected to the summer house thing through. they could still be sort of besties now or maybe they drifted apart a bit and one of them just reached out recently?

childhood enemies — this would basically be the same thing only they didn’t get along at all. maybe kai bullied your muse a little, maybe your muse wasn’t one to get stepped on either and so it was more of a mutual dislike. we can plot more on this for sure.

connections, connections — so our muses were never really friends but they were always supposed to be. for business reasons. these two spent quite a lot of long golfing sessions snarking at one another or suffering together in silence. kai’s father would never stop telling her how your muse was going to be such a useful friend at some point later and it’s to be expected that maybe their parents did the same. ( 0 / 1 )

only ever call you when i’m high — i am thinking these two kind of only get fucked up together, they hardly ever met outside of partying but whenever they went out they did so together, getting into a lot of trouble and being in love for each of these nights only to seperate without as much as a word in the morning. the kind of relationship that really only existed in this very particular frame. it was messy and sort of beautiful. i could imagine maybe one of them just left at some point and they kind of lost contact but we can plot particulars. ( 0 / 1 )

misc. — fwb, i follow u on insta cause u hot (either way), haha i swear you look just like my ex, somebody who tries to get close w her bc of business, somebody who like rlly rlly wants to ride her bike ( she’d never tbh ),

okay, that's all i got for u today. love u all, let's plot! <;33

#✴ ⋰ 𝑲𝑨𝑵𝑵𝑰𝑲𝑨 𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑻 ↠ ⌜ about. ⌟

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choconanime · 2 years

Text

Rambling about Adami lore don't mind me

lil tibits i have for bsts adami as i got inspired watching anime with friends

Adami while having lawyer parent's,their very much like "if u have a dream seek it without our help especially the field your own, prove to us your worth it n well start sending money if needed" is harsh but is more like she doesn't always depend on them.

Adami office is actually located in a caffe shop! a friend ended up helping her out as they had a spare room in their coffee shop

This prolly explains her addiction to coffee n cinnamon rolls she wakes up n immediately start of her day eating them.

Her group consist: Of two assistant and one other detective, so two girls n one boy. She's the main leader+ with the new addition that Kiri join in once in a while to help on certain cases

She wants to research more about the Blackstar but if i make her the Mc,Kei prolly forbid her hence one of her assistant actually being hired by Kei to keep track of her to her dismay,she hasn't given up on looking more about it so she says Blackstar stuff it's just in hiatus ~~but she looks for clues with Kiri in her off day's~~

Kei and Heath call her Saki to hide her name so calling her saki it's like wrong either.

There's certain things she learned from certain members that should be obvious to the public eye, like she prolly learned Kei name earlier n that's where the talk of "don't search for anyone info, please adami" talk came from n as much as she hates it,she's a woman of her word n has not search further for any other boys info to her dismay+ she however told Kei she dislike they however can look for info, if she realized one of them has info she hasn't share with them she will target them specifically n she hopes that isn't an issue as it's only fair

hence i can see as the boys start caring for her, especially sussy man, they start searching less for her bcuz they don't want to get her in trouble for searching for them as they believe she's quite capable of searching.

Kiri sometimes help in other cases unrelated to Blackstar bcuz of her connections

Unrelated but enstars admai most people she contact are too are girl's

her introduction would prolly be slightly different from bsts

Like instead of a woman chasing her it was due clues+ wanting to find more n realizing one of her old clients she helped , zinnia works exactly on the place a lot of her clues lead here this pass few months but it seems when she got there Kei already was already expecting her to her dismay n it continue off as normal story went

her awkwardness come from the idea of how game saki is grounded n kinda serious but can be kind.

N I'm like imma steal that n make it adami twist of her serioness is actually her awkwardness with people but when she warms up she pretty much becomes motherly

adami i once again change what she's looking for LMAO i feel like. A child is to much of a high stake(bcuz i was gonna make it be she had a child) n seeing how slow this story is I'm giving lore it won't fit,i feel like smt less high stake

N i got an idea that it rounds back to blank place, as i was thinking more about how it worked i actually give a number of girls working there: 10 girl's,Io and Zinnia being one of them, she was working there in the first place because a customer reported a missing person who led her to the blank but by the time she got there the fire happen+ realize that every girl was there except the one girl she looking for, instead of leaving the blank alone she decided to help not only to find more clues but the situation the girls were in was...horrid.

N she still been working on this missing case on the sides,not knowing why it draw a her so much it wasn't till she learned the that this organization, the black card, that smt in her click in her concidendly she also received a card when she realize oh this dude ,Kiri dad, worked under them which led to today event's

Adami is someone even when when she isn't a saki she can easily still have good reason to be there hanging out bcuz all clues keep leading her to this damn place n instead of Kei warning her perhaps is Kasumi,someone who cares for zinnia a lot, understand that it seems Adami is someone Zinny really cares about, feels indebted in warning her to please watch out n don't go poking on people information (later being reinforced by Sin if zinnia chooses that route).

Adami feels like she seen TAKAMI before

TAKAMI: i don't think you have however many people think they met me before so I'm not surprised

Adami: mhm i see **doesn't believe him,she took of that**

TAKAMI: if that's all, excuse me have a good day **he knows that she knows she took note of that n doesn't believe him**

but also

takami ~~or kasum~~ kissing her n instead of getting shy bro my braincell barks at the idea of her while flsutered just traces her fingers accros where they kiss her n looking very pleased n they kinda dont expect that so they get flustered too

#adami #consider this brain storming #was gonna write it on Twitter but i really want to seperate myself from that bird arb #app*#ruining my mood to much doom scrolling i just wanna talk about silly oc ideas n ramble about them #nothing i consider legit just strings of thoughts i been having #n i don't want to keep them for myself even if their a lil cringey its fun to share with other's!#anyways yes #i know theres some lore of other girls here but this should be okay lol #zinnia #io #kiri #rambling here #mhm if smt doesn't make sence feel free to ask me is late n i copy paste this n didn't revise it properly except a quick read #bsts oc

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welcometogrouchland · 1 year

Note

Amphibia and The Owl House for the ask! also hope your stomach gets better :(

Yippee my shows!! Also yeah I feel better now I just had to lie down for a while and drink a lot of water 👍

For TOH:

The first character I first fell in love with: ooh that's a toughie! I binged the first season right before s2 started airing so my memories are fuzzy. Maybe...Lilith or Willow? Luz hadn't quite cemented herself as my fav until season 2 and subsequent rewatches

The character I never expected to love as much as I do now: probably Amity? I went into season 1 knowing she had a redemption but when I saw her in her first appearance it was on SIGHT. I really warmed up to her though over the course of the show, and now I enjoy her a lot! I'm proud of how far she's come. Also probably Caleb bc we knew so little about him at first that I didn't see how he could become a fan favorite for anyone. Then Hollow Mind happened and. You get it. OH WAIT LAST ANSWER FOR THIS- Camila! Not because I ever thought she was a bad mom but because I didn't think they'd give a parent character so much depth. I love what they did with her in seasons 2 and 3 so much

The character everyone else loves that I don’t: uhh maybe Belos?? In certain circles at least. Interesting guy but I don't have much fondness/affection for him, y'know? Or Alador. He's aight but clouds on the horizon made him a bit...flat, for me. Also this is less of a thing now but not too long ago BOSCHA oh my god. Ppl acting like the show not spending time on her was a failure like. Okay! Sure! Let's just say things now, ig! I much prefer what they did with her in ftf. It's not redemption exactly but it's acknowledgment that she's just a kid. A shitty kid but still

The character I love that everyone else hates: KIKIMORA MAN. I know I know I'm also mad they spent all of follies at the coven day parade building her up as potentially sympathetic only to steer away from that route again and again as if they changed their mind BUT. I fucking love this horrible fail creature. No backbone, no morals, no prospects, no bitches. Beefing with teenagers and exiled from her family home and place of business. Pathetic. Get her ass!!!

The character I used to love but don’t any longer: oh that's a complicated one. I know I also said she grew on me unexpectedly but the answer to this one might also be Amity. Not in the sense that I stopped liking her, but in the sense that other characters caught my attention more as time went on. Rip to Amity, still love u. I am just a Willow and Luz girlie

The character I would totally smooch: most of the women I am being real with you this show is overflowing with cute character designs

The character I’d want to be like: honestly? Eda. Yeah she's got problems and she's not the ideal mentor you'd expect but she's just such a cool confident older woman who doesn't let ppl control her life

The character I’d slap: I'd say Belos but that'd be too obvious (and rewarding). Instead imma say Boscha. This is not the right way to deal with highschool bullies but I do not care. This isn't about her. This is about me. And I wanna slap her just a wee bit. It's fine I'm not that much older than her I'm allowed to

A pairing that I love: sigh. Hubtlow

A pairing that I despise: b*schlow. Bully/victim ships I hate thee. Loathe thee, even. Also I definitely don't despise it but can I please stop getting l*nter jump scared. I don't go there let me out. Stop putting it on my feed

NOW FOR THE FROG SHOW AHAHA!!!

The first character I first fell in love with: unsure tbh! Maybe Polly but I know she definitely wasn't as violent/funny at the beginning of the series. Probably Anne or (depending on how fast I binged, I cannot remember) maybe Sasha

The character I never expected to love as much as I do now: Anne or Sasha I think! Both start off as like. Semi-unlikeable characters (Sasha more so than Anne), which I appreciate now in retrospect, but at the time I couldn't picture myself getting as invested in them as I got. Also. How would you guys feel if I said andrias (I DIDN'T WANNA LIKE HIM. EVEN WHEN HE WAS BEING A JOLLY GOOFBALL I KNEW THE OTHER SHOE HAD TO DROP AND I WAS PREPARED TO HATE HIM. AND THEN THEY INTRODUCED DARCY AND GAVE US THIS NEW DYNAMIC AND CONTEXT AND JUST. MAN!!!)

The character everyone else loves that I don’t: okay, it's not that I don't love her, but Marcy is definitely my least fav in the calamity trio. Again, not because I dislike her, I just like Anne and Sasha a lot more, y'know?

The character I love that everyone else hates: tbh I'm not in the fandom enough to know who is and isn't hated. Was Sasha ever hated? Maybe by some but idk

The character I used to love but don’t any longer: don't think this one really applies to anyone in amphibia? A weird one that kinda matches is I used to think valeriana was like. Mysterious and cool and then they didn't do much with her after the second temple and I was like. She's just kinda there now, huh?

The character I would totally smooch: IDK MAN THE SHOW IS 90% FROGS AND PRETEENS!!!! I AM NOT KISSING THEIR ASSES THEY ARE SLIMY (THE PRETEENS INCLUDED!)

The character I’d want to be like: again, 90% of them are frogs or preteens. Maybe Anne? I like how far she's come and how far she's still willing to go at the end, turning down ultimate power in the name of keeping the world safe and staying with the people she loves. Also I want cool anime powers /j

The character I’d slap: Sasha but only if it was s1-s2 Sasha bc I love her and I feel like she needs it. Girl. Get a grip

A pairing that I love: hehehe sashanne <3

A pairing that I despise: DON'T SHIP THE HUMAN GIRLS WITH FROGS. THAT FEELS LIKE THE EASIEST THING MAN!!!

#ramblings of a lunatic #asks #I'm sorry this took so long <3 like i said stomach ache #these answer's are long but also coming up with them was so hard in some places??? idk

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bumbleklee · 3 years

Note

HELLO!!! Can you do the reader that feels like a second choice for zhongli, kaeya, Childe, and xiao?

baby ur a shining star (cut for length + reader is gn)

zhongli

after hearing about guizhong and her relationship with zhongli, you had a sinking feeling in your stomach

you couldn't help but wonder if he was still in love with her and you were being used as a place holder to pass time

around the anniversary of her death, zhongli became distant from you and it sent you spiraling

for days, you didn't come out of your apartment and you weren't planning on it anytime soon until zhongli came by to see if you were still alive

He had a key to your apartment. You knew that - you gave it to him - and yet, you were still surprised when he sat down on the edge of your bed.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt a large hand caress your shoulder over your duvet. "Zhongli?"

"Are you sick?" He asks instantly, reaching forward to touch your forehead. You lean out of his touch and sit up in bed, grasping the blanket still. You keep your gaze down.

"No," You say quietly.

"Then, where have you been?" He asks.

"Where have I been? Where have you been?" You demand, frowning. Zhongli had been more than distant to you over the past week. You could hardly see him for more than five minutes before he was rushing you away so he could take a walk through the forest alone. And he had cancelled your dates!

Zhongli frowned himself and looked away, "I apologize. I've had a lot on my mind."

"So have I," You say. You cross your arms, "Is there someone else?"

The words float of your mouth to carelessly and Zhongli looks taken aback. "Someone else? Of course not."

"What about Guizhong?"

There's a silence in the bedroom and Zhongli peers at your face for a moment. His expression is unreadable and you wish you hadn't spoken the words you did. Suddenly, his hand reaches out again and lands on yours this time.

"Y/N, Guizhong was a good friend of mine many years ago. I mourn for her passing but you are my future," He tells you, "Please understand that you are the only one I care for now."

kaeya

dating kaeya came with anxiety and worries

he was a very attractive man and his personality was more than flirty at times

it wasn't rare to see him shake off multiple women or men at the tavern or on the streets of mondstadt after they had drank a little too much

you knew he would never betray you, he loved you too much, but when you saw how much affection he received from strangers, your heart couldn't help but ache

You knew going out to the tavern with Kaeya would only end in an argument. He was by your side for no more than ten minutes before some Knights pulled him to their table. You clenched your jaw and sat at the bar alone, Diluc sending you a sympathetic smile.

Your eyes ghosted behind you often and the sight of a woman wrapping her arms around Kaeya's waist had you fuming silently. You gripped the glass in your hand and your feet moved on their own. You grabbed Kaeya by his arm and dragged his tipsy body out the door without a word.

"What did I do?" He slurred, "I wasn't done hanging out."

You gave Kaeya the silent treatment as you walked home and he lingered like a lost puppy behind you. When you both had changed into your pajamas and Kaeya tried to spoon you like he did every night, you pushed him away.

Dejected, Kaeya sat up. "What did I do?" He asked again, more sober this time.

"Why don't you go ask your girlfriend from the bar?" You snapped.

"Come on," Kaeya groaned, "We've talked about this. I can't control what other people do."

"I don't care."

You crossed your arms tightly and laid down in bed, your back facing Kaeya. You felt a familiar warm feeling in your chest and your bottom lip quivered slightly, your eyes filling with tears.

Kaeya's arms were around you the second he heard you sniffle. "What's the matter?" He asked seriously.

"You're not going to leave me, right?" You asked, spinning around in his arms.

He cocked an eyebrow at you, "What? Of course not." He leaned close to your face and pressed his nose against yours. "Is this what this is all about?"

You only nodded.

"I love you," Kaeya continued, "And no one, not even that lady from the tavern, is going to come between us. Got it?"

childe

when you first started dating childe, he made you promise that you understood that his work came first

and you did because, frankly, you didn't think you would ever be second choice to the duties of a fatui harbinger

but the more involved you became with childe, the more you realized that maybe you had bit off more you could chew

Childe had stood you up the second time that week. You waited at the Liyue Pavilion for over an hour until you realized he wasn't coming and went home, utterly devastated.

When he finally returned home to you, it was early in the morning and you were half asleep on the couch. The sound of him closing the door woke you up and you only frowned at him. Childe tried to reach over to you to give you a kiss but you peeled away from him.

"I'm sorry for not making it, Y/N," Childe began, "I just -"

"Got caught up with work," You finished.

He looked down at his shoes and you looked elsewhere too. This exact scenario was happening too often and you weren't sure how much you could take of it. And Childe seemed to have similar thoughts as he sat beside you on the couch.

"I'm really sorry," He tried again.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better, Ajax? Because it doesn't."

He clicked his tongue. "You're right," He said, "Listen, Y/N. I think we should end things before I really can't be there for you. Things are only picking up from here."

There was a silence. "Yeah," You agreed.

"You'll find a nice person one day that won't be so involved with what I do," He chides, "Anyone would be lucky enough to call you theirs."

You wanted that person to be Childe. Except, Childe was just like every other guy out there. He told you he loved you yet couldn't even make you his priority.

xiao

similar to childe, it isn't a person that makes you feel like second best

in xiao's case, it's his duties as the yaksha that bury worries deep in your heart

he's not around most nights and during the day, he's always on edge and distant

you've become accustom to his routine but you weren't sure how much more you could take of it

For once, Xiao stayed home with you at night. You had cooked dinner and even though Xiao hated mortal food, he shoved it down for you. The two of you stayed up to watch the sunrise on the roof and you fell asleep in his arms.

When you woke up in a cold sweat hours later, Xiao was gone. Your window was open, the wind rushing in, and you frowned deeply. You sat up in bed, rubbing your forehead. He couldn't even stay the night.

"Xiao..." You whispered into the night. "Xiao?"

In a second, your partner stood in front of the bed. "What's wrong?"

"You left me," You scowled, standing up to shut the window. Your feet stomped against the cold floor with too much emphasis. Xiao didn't respond so you snapped your eyes towards him. He was just staring at you. "Do you even love me anymore?"

He was taken aback by your words, "Huh? Of course I do."

"Then why don't you show it?" Your tone had fell drastically and you held back your tears.

Xiao was beside you in moments, his hands cradling your face gently. His eyes searched yours crazily and you felt the urge to pull away but refrained.

"I'm new at this," He whispered, "I'm trying."

You sighed, "Well, try harder."

He nodded, "I will."

Once you had vented a bit longer, Xiao lead you back to bed and wrapped his arms around you once again. When you woke up in the morning, you were throughly surprised to find him next to you still.

a/n sorry u break up in childes

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anyoneseenadam · 3 years

Text

Healing

pairing: Azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: TW - sexual assault, rape, objectification and implications of abuse, smut, consensual sex, azriel is a sweetie and rhys is a good bestie

a/n: first of all PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS!!! i’m really proud of this fic but I don’t want to trigger or upset anyone, that being said it isn’t too graphic but still. Anyway I hope u enjoy, this took me three days lmao <333

based on: this and this

—————————————————————————-

You had your first less than savoury encounter with men when you had barely turned nine. Your body still hadn’t finished forming, but you were growing, and your body was gaining some semblance of shape as you did. It wasn’t much – just a whistle from across the street – but for a second your heart seized up with fear, and in the next you almost felt giddy. A man thought you were beautiful.

You felt like a princess that day – felt the way you had when the boy from your class had kissed your cheek, still too young to process the intentions behind that single whistle. But you didn’t care – someone wanted you.

When you got your first period at twelve – even more changed. Your body felt new, and you didn’t feel comfortable in the changes. Your old clothes didn’t fit and now your mother forced you into tighter corsets for those long, long dinners you had to attend. Your parents were respected Fae in the Hewn City – nobles who liked to drink and smoke and throw extravagant balls. And with your new body you could no longer simply hide in the corner or climb through secret passages with your friends – muddying your dresses.

Now you had to smile when men hugged you slightly too long, laugh when they commented on how much you had grown up, sit pretty and pristine with an old mans hand loitering to close to your rear for hours as you watched your parents drink away their troubles.

By the time you were fifteen you were used to the constant attention, your beauty not uncommon where you lived but still doted on often. Unaware of their desire for your youth, your naivety. The women never offering a helping hand but instead glaring down high skewed noses as their husbands slurred into your ears – still in shock that a pretty, young thing like you was all alone at this party.

When you were sixteen you decided to change that – kissing an alright looking boy at a party and telling him exactly what he wanted to hear so he would kiss you back. He stayed when you didn’t protest as he pulled you to the bathroom and pushed you to your knees. And for this small request, the greasy hands on your body at balls and dinners or any other social gathering halved – now only the truly self-righteous felt they could touch you still.

The only problem was you truly did love the boy you had chosen. He had faults yes, but he was kind – he brought you flowers and kissed your cheek. But he also spoke over you, forced you into silence and took what he wanted. And he always wanted the same thing.

If anything it was his father’s fault. The military commander never leaving room for debate when he argues with his wife – and sons only become what they see in their fathers.

Your father had left with a younger woman a few months after your fourteenth birthday, and you hadn’t seen him since – only heard stories of him galivanting around the autumn court from your classmates. You could see the distaste your mum held you in as she realised she would have to stick around to look after you, not yet old enough to be married. Then Amarantha had taken hold of the country and that possibility had been thrown out the window anyway.

Weirdly enough not that much changed in your life when she took power, the only major difference was that now you had to block out screams before going to sleep and even they had become like white noise. You still drank with your friends on Friday nights, went out with your boyfriend on Saturdays and slept the pain away on Sundays. Your weekdays consisted of school, dinners, balls and whatever more your mother could throw together to appease the high queen.

That and the high lord of the night court had started making appearances at the events your mother threw. He was a cruel man standing so proudly at the queen’s side – but you saw something flickering in his eyes whenever people spoke, complimenting his power and rule. You saw what you felt as you laughed at compliments and lingering touches – you saw pain, but more importantly you saw anger. And right now you could use anger.

During one ball you watched him leave, taking an odd route – not the one that would help him escape the loud music but instead a long winding corridor leading to a series of smaller rooms. Without thought you peeled away from your company, muttering excuses and went after him – grabbing a bottle of wine as you did.

You found him reclining in an empty room and knocked on the door gently. He cracked open an eye – slow like a cat – and beckoned you in. You moved to perch next to him, leaning back with a straight back and letting your head loll slightly as you took a swig of the dark red wine, before passing him the bottle.

“You looked like you could use a drink,” you smiled, eyes focused on his sharp jaw as he held the bottle to his mouth with a laugh.

“One way of putting it,” he smiled. The two of you sat in silence for several minutes as you took in his beauty, his looks plus mannerisms all made him seem like a wild cat - a panther trapped underground.

“Why are you here?” he finally asked, and you raised a hand to trace that sharp jaw. But instead of devouring you as any lesser man would’ve, he brushed your hand away and held it tightly in his larger one. “That’s not gonna happen, you’re what sixteen?”

“Almost seventeen,” you said, cheekily. He laughed but shook his head, squeezing your hand before releasing it.

“You’re still a child,” he said matter-of-factly, and you scoffed, stealing your wine back to drink again.

“Yeah well that’s usually a selling point,” your voice was sad, but you didn’t dare let your eyes stray from his – refusing to show fear, “And you’re so nice to me, I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

He laughed as you pouted, “You practice this in the mirror or something?”

“Usually works in three seconds,” you confess, and he whistles under his breath, “Men are rather easy to manipulate when they’ve been trying to get into your skirts since your first bleed.”

“And you wonder why I’m not about to take advantage of you,” he laughed, and you smiled – a real smile, or real enough. “Plus I don’t think your little boyfriend would be pleased.”

“Eh, he’s never pleased - I don’t think this could make him worse.” Rhysand took the wine back and frowned.

“Does he hurt you?” his voice was sincere but the laugh you let out was not.

“Don’t all men,” he swore, and you laughed again, “Yet you foil my plan to make you fall in love with me and whisk me away to the moon.”

He laughed, but his eyes darkened with deep sadness you were sure you would never understand, “I think we both no that even I could not do that, but I might be able to crush your fly.”

“Little boyfriend? Fly? You really don’t like him do you?” you laughed, head lighter already.

“I don’t like any man who thinks they can hurt women,” he said, frowning when he realised through your passing back and forth there was no wine left.

“Shit that took us like five minutes,” you complained, and he laughed, waving his hand lightly as several more bottles appeared before you – you grinned as you grabbed another.

“So any friends with weaker moral backbones that I could marry?” you asked with a laugh, and he smiled at you.

“I’m sure I could find someone,” he leaned back again. You smiled – finally happy that one night might pass in the company of a decent man.

Soon, you’d find it would be more than one night, a close friendship quickly blossoming between you and the high lord. All your friends were convinced you were sleeping together but true to his word he didn’t touch you, and by the time you surpassed the age of eighteen you didn’t want him to. But that didn’t stop other men.

After a particularly bad argument with your boyfriend that had left you with a handprint on your left cheek you had broken up with him – sending away his apologies and flowers, smart enough to see he didn’t hold the mental capacity to change.

Plus you were beautiful and young, you could certainly do better. And you soon did – rich men who liked to buy you jewellery, and fine clothes, men who enjoyed literature and art and spending time with you.

And at the start of each relationship, for a few blissful seconds you would believe in their pure intentions. But then a hand would drift from your lower back to your ass, or the gentle kiss that followed a necklace would shift from your mouth to your breasts. Not one of them wanted to wait until you were comfortable, so you made yourself comfortable.

You pictured pretty, strong men were holding you down and making you feel something, slipping your own hand between your legs and they penetrated you to try and replicate what you were sure a lover’s touch must feel like. And as always – after the first time- they stopped asking for permission, you were their toy, so you no longer had choice over that part of yourself.

But through nice guys and bad boys, for fifty years you had Rhysand who was a friend – who treated you with respect and finally let you talk, let you breathe.

In the end he was the one who found you, in the backroom of a party – drunk and undressed. You were weeping, curled in a ball with your attackers’ seed dripping out of you, bruises decorating your bare skin. When he turned you over with his comforting hands he found your nose dripping red and the vibrant lipstick you wore smudged.

He helped you sit up and redress, took you home and stood outside the bathroom while you scrubbed yourself clean in scalding water – still unsteady on your feet. You changed into a nightgown silently and neither of you said a word when you crawled into bed next to each other, crying in your best friends’ arms as he tried to console you.

When you woke up, he was gone with just a scribbled message about Amarantha and the name of a healer he trusted. But you just placed it back down, turning onto your back and staring at the ceiling as hot tears ran into your hairline.

You barely ate anything for the days following your assault – fighting with your mother more when you rarely saw her and subsequently breaking it off with your current boyfriend. You had thrown his hands off you when he tried to touch you and the screaming match that followed ended your relationship.

Your bond with Rhysand grew only closer however as you spent nights drinking in candlelight, talking about anything and everything until you were sure he knew every inch of your soul and you his.

“You know what I’m going to do as soon as she’s gone,” you whispered one night as you stared at the twinkling lights you had hung on your bedroom roof to imitate stars.

“What?” Rhys had asked, never letting his eyes leave the ‘stars’ which he had laughed at and then proceeded to rearrange to make them more accurate. To which you threw a pillow at his head.

“Find a hill, or a pier, or a large pit or anything and scream into it until my throat bleeds.” You said and he laughed, the bed beneath you rumbling.

“Consider me on board.” He joked as you sat up to perch at your vanity – smudging the sharp eyeliner you wore with a small brush and applying some red lipstick.

“Wanna go out?” you asked him, and he sat up to with a small, sad smile.

“Can’t.” you understood his implication and frowned.

“I’m honestly surprised she hasn’t gutted me yet,” you tried to lighten the mood, but his face darkened slightly when he joked back.

“Oh she wants to, I’m telling her any information you give me about citizens, so she doesn’t.” He said, ruffling your hair as he stood to leave.

“That’s fair, I’ll keep an ear out,” you smiled, squeezing his hand gently before he left.

Things changed when Feyre Archeron appeared, you saw the way your friend watched her and realised you might be competing for his attention soon, but you were happy for him. Until he brought her to that first party – drugged and barely dressed. You felt the bile rise in your throat as you pushed down memories of yourself in such a similar position, and while you knew he would never hurt her – he was still a man. And you were foolish to believe for all those years that he was a man who would realise this was wrong.

Making polite excuses you left the party, picking up the tails of your dress as you all but raced home – ditching the dress and closing the blinds tightly as you made yourself food in your underwear. The sick feeling in your throat spreading through your chest and stomach as you ate, abandoning your meal halfway for a book and large sweater. And when he knocked on your door that night, desperate to tell you all about her – all about the human girl who he was sure could be his mate, you pretended to be asleep.

You barely spoke to him the whole time she was there, unable to look him in the eyes when she was so clearly out of it – and the feeling only grew when the next morning she would have all eyes on her. You understood that feeling. You instead spent parties flirting with Tarquin, the young high lord who was only a few years your senior or warding off marriage invitations with laughs and carefully placed words.

Rhys would sometimes catch your eyes – furrowing his eyebrows at you when you avoided his gaze, the sick feeling never really leaving. But it wasn’t until you watched Tamlin slay Amarantha with a smile that he tried to speak to you again. Feyre was Fae and leaving with her betrothed and Rhysand had just confirmed they were mates – and never had he needed his best friend quiet like he did now.

You were sitting when he found you, head in your palms and blood dusting the skirts of your dress. You had been sitting near Amarantha when it happened. You looked up when he neared, smiling sadly as he sat next to you.

“Want to go home?” he asked you quietly and you scoffed, standing, and moving to leave quickly. He followed after you, grabbing your arm as you wrenched it out of his grip with more ferocity than he had ever seen from you.

“Don’t touch me,” he held his hands up, backing away to give you space as you got your breathing under control.

“What did I do?” he asked – smart enough to not presume anything.

“How could you think it was okay, after what happened?” your voice was quiet again, and so sad.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he implored, stepping slightly closer again. You raised your eyes to meet his and he understood, the darkness you carried in your eyes shining through – the memories that resurfaced in those dark moments. “I’m sorry, let me explain please.”

You let him hold your arm softly as he winnowed the two of you to your house where you sat down heavy and tired.

“I did it because she needed out of that cell, but I saw what they did to you and you’re a fae woman, she’s… she was human. So it meant that no one else would touch her.” He tried to explain, “And she wouldn’t want to remember.”

“That’s a horrible thing to do Rhys.” You stated and he hung his head low, “How in anyway was that helping her, to get her out you could’ve snuck her here or just take her to a ball and let her dress normally.”

“I’m sorry, I just knew this would’ve been the safest option,” he grabbed your hand again and squeezed it like he did all those years ago, “It’s over, we can go home.”

“I am home,” you laughed bitterly, gesturing to your house.

“No, you’re coming out of this city – we’re putting it behind us.” He stood and held out a hand.

“I know you’re trying to be dramatic and all, but I have to pack – and think.” You said and he laughed.

“Take your time,” he said, sitting back to wait for you, “And I know it might take you a while to forgive me, but I’ll wait.”

You had left soon after, as he revealed his city to you. Winnowing to a house where two beautiful women stood at the door, strong winged men appearing next to them almost instantly – all sharing the same tear-eyed look. Well, all asides from a short, dark-haired woman who simply smiled.

The men you presumed were Azriel and Cassian barrelled towards Rhysand, attacking him in the most violent hug you had ever witnessed. Mor followed soon after and Amren simply offered him a curt nod, to which he bowed slightly with a cheeky smile.

Cassian turned to look at you and everyone followed suit, you straightened up – not wanting to cower under their gazes.

“And this, this is (y/n).” Rhysand said, placing a hand on your elbow, “She’s the only reason I survived under the mountain.”

You smiled at him, annoyed still – but you still held so much love for him in your heart. You looked away when Cassian approached and wrapped you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground slightly.

When he released you he looked you dead in the eye, “I am forever in your service.”

“Cassian let go of the poor girl,” Mor exclaimed behind him, and you giggled, looking to Rhys for support.

“Forgot to tell you he’s a hugger,” he shrugged, and you shoved his shoulder.

“Oh did you!” you laughed.

“Gotta get used to it, you’re part of the team now,” Cassian slung an arm around your shoulder as he guided you inside, “which means lots of hugs and long talks about emotions.”

“Don’t steal my best friend Cassian,” Rhys jabbed at his brother as you all moved to sit inside around a long table.

“He already had I’m afraid, can’t reverse love like ours,” you joined in, patting Cassian’s hand as he punched the air in victory, Rhysand feigning pain as he dramatically collapsed into his chair – a hand over his heart.

When you were finally seated you caught Azriel’s gaze, his eyes locked on you – having watched you interact with his family for less than five minutes and already completely enamoured. You smiled softly when you caught his gaze and he grinned at you, no words passing.

Later that evening – after too many drinks, you found yourself alone on a balcony you found, drinking in the fresh air greedily after all those years underground. You didn’t realise he was there until he was next to you – silent on his feet, his shadows a cool chill passing over your shoulders.

You tilted your head to look at him, in awe of his beauty. Not even Rhysand had awed you as much as this man was, his beauty unparalleled by anyone you had met before. He turned his gaze down to you as well, fighting the urge to reach out and touch you as he watched you move with such elegant curiosity.

“We haven’t had the pleasure of being formally introduced,” you smiled, lifting your hand delicately, “I’m (y/n).”

He met your hand halfway, lifting it to his mouth with perfectly poised and trained grace. “Azriel,” his voice was deep, gruff – and sent chills through you quickly. But when he moved your hand from his mouth you held on, the sparks flowing through you telling you all you needed to know. He similarly made no move to let go.

“Are we? I don’t really know how any of this works,” you laughed nervously but he smiled so warmly and tugged you slightly closer to him with the hand you were still clutching.

“You’re my mate princess,” he said, voice rough from disuse. You smiled widely, eyes forming tears as your gaze never strayed from him – finally getting one person who would truly love you, not your body – but you. He tugged your hand gently and you followed him inside, smiling and love drunk.

“We should probably go to the house of wind,” his voice was quiet as you furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“Me and Cassian have to share a room here, the bed are singles.” You smiled and laughed – irrevocably happy.

“Yeah maybe not,” you said, and he held your hand softly as he walked you to the front door, passed his past out friends, Rhys cracking an eye open when you walked past him, and you turned when he tugged your skirt gently.

You okay? He asked in your mind, and you smiled at him.

I’m perfect, why? You replied as he closed his eyes again, clearly too tired to hold them open - Azriel moving to retrieve your coats.

Just don’t feel pressured into doing anything you’re not ready for, Azriel is understanding he won’t get angry. A sort of cold feeling settled on your shoulders when you realised why Azriel wanted that extra privacy.

Shit forgot I had to do that you joked but Rhysand felt the stress growing, however before he could reply Azriel was by your side again and you were waving him goodbye, your smile tight lipped.

Honestly, you trusted Rhysand when he said that Azriel would understand – but so far you had yet to meet a man who truly respected the boundaries you set, a man who would truly wait. Azriel met your eyes in silent questions before scooping you into his arms, flying high above the house as you squealed in his arms, clinging tightly to his neck, and shutting your eyes tightly as you soared above the vibrant city.

He felt you tense as you neared the house, swooping lower in order to land on the large balcony attached to his room. He placed you on shaky legs gently and looked down to smile at you again – heart so full of love and peace.

Not only was his brother returned to him in one piece, but along beside him came you. His mate. His mate.

You caught his gaze and gave him a tight-lipped smile, terrified for history to repeat itself. You wanted to talk to him and know him – you didn’t want him to learn to love your body instead of you. And you were truly afraid to be touched again, you hadn’t been with a man since you were raped – fear stopping you before they could get close and walls slamming up if they tried.

“Are you okay?” Azriel’s voice was dripping with concern – genuine concern, and the way he said it made tears well up in your eyes. His own instantly widened as he sensed the sadness and fear rolling of you in waves, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you sobbed into his chest. “Oh sweetheart we don’t have to do anything, c’mon lets go sit down.”

He guided you through the glass doors and sat you down gently on the bed, holding you gently and coaxing you through your breakdown. Once your breathing had calmed slightly and you had pulled out of his embrace, wiping your tears harshly with the butt of your hand.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered quietly, terrified to anger your mate when you’ve only just found him.

“It’s okay darling, what’s wrong – did I do something? You’re not terrified of heights are you?” he asked, and you laughed softly, a smile growing on his face as his worries eased slightly.

“No, that was fun,” he grabbed your hand in his scarred ones and you gripped it tightly.

“Then what was it?” you looked into those beautiful, worried eyes and let out an exhale – bottom lip quivering.

“I just don’t think I can – I can’t do that tonight.” You whispered the words lowly, afraid of his reaction as you clung like a child to his hand.

“Hey, that’s okay – we don’t have to do anything until you’re ready,” he smiled, worries easing. You still wanted to be with him, just not in that way yet – and he could wait. He would wait a million years if you asked.

“Even if I’m not ready for a while?” You asked, and he held your face in his hands gently – looking into your tear-filled, defeated eyes.

“I would wait forever and then some – I have already waited so long to meet you, I’m sure I can last longer, especially if you’re next to me.” Your smile was so sad when you met his eyes.

“I’ve been told that before,” Azriel just pulled you closer to him with a cheeky grin.

“And were any of them your mate?”

“No,” you smiled at him again and he thought his heart was going to combust.

“Well then, I love to prove people wrong.” You buried your head into his chest as his arms came around you once more, “Would you like to sleep here, or would you like your own room?”

“Here is fine, I like the way you make me feel,” you said quietly, tugging on the bond experimentally. Azriel just smiled and tugged back.

“That works for me, I’ll get you a change of clothes.” He moved to stand but you stopped him – tugging on the dress shirt he wore.

“I want this,” you grinned cheekily up at him, and he laughed, but undid the buttons and pulled it off anyway – turning around to let you change in peace. When he turned back around you were looking up at him with wide eyes – looking impossibly cute in his shirt.

“It has holes in the back,” you complained, and he laughed, sitting down to tug off his trousers before sliding under the covers as you scrambled to lay in his arms.

“Well I do have wings,” he cemented his point by letting one drape over your shoulders as you sighed in content.

“Really, I hadn’t noticed,” you deadpanned quietly, burrowed deep under his arms and the covers. His chest rumbled with the silent laugh as he pressed a kiss into your hairline.

The next morning he awoke to you laying on his chest, tracing the scars on the backs of his hands with a delicately pointed finger. He stared in wonder, and you must have felt his gaze because you turned your head to meet his eyes, face still puffy from sleep. As you whispered to him that morning, your chin resting on his chest as you gazed up at him until he rose to get your morning drinks. Barely daring to leave for more than a few seconds. And when he returned he was so glad he did – welcoming the sight of you curled up under his sheets with a shy smile and tired eyes.

“Do we have to do anything today?” you asked as you sipped your drink slowly, Azriel’s’ arm tight and secure around your waist.

“Nope,” he said, delighted at the prospect, “I just want to be with you and my family.”

“Sounds heavenly.”

True to his word, for the next few weeks that past, you and Azriel didn’t progress past slow, occasional kisses and lingering touches. But before either of those he was always searching your eyes – asking permission. And you truly fell in love with him during those weeks.

He was caring and consistent – never promising anything he couldn’t bring. And he cared for you, he cared for you past your body and looks. He wanted to be with you for an eternity.

One night, while you lay together, speaking lowly and listening to the rain fall outside your room – a glass door cracked open, you decided you were ready. You pressed closer to him, your lips meeting his own in a kiss more passionate than you had previously shared.

He followed your lead with just as much passion, but when you crawled into his lap he pulled away slightly.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to rush you,” he asked quietly, hands coming to rest on your hips.

“I’m sure, I love you and I want to be with you.” You told him sincerely, “But I haven’t been with anyone in a few years so I’m a little out of practice.”

You giggled nervously but he furrowed his eyebrows, “But you told me about your boyfriends?”

“Yeah but I – stopped dating about five years ago.” You tried to explain quickly, old nerves being brought up, but Azriel pulled you closer and as always his touch calmed you.

“Can I ask why?” he watched you drop your head a little as you breathed slowly – determined to not let your fear rise, you would probably end up telling him anyway so you might as well get it over with.

“I was raped.” You stated and his grip on your hips tightened slightly as he swore.

“Darling, I’m so sorry,” he started but you stopped him with a sharp glaze.

“You don’t need to apologise, it happened and it’s over now.” He could practically feel you pull away, so he loosened his grip on your hips and instead brought his arms up to hold you against his chest.

“Who did it?” he asked, voice dark and dangerous. You muttered a name lowly – under your breath – and he pocketed in the darkest corners of his mind for later. His shadows itching to tear the man apart.

“Look (y/n), if you’re ready I am more than happy to oblige but I need to know you’re really ready, I will wait as long as you need.” You pulled away from his chest and kissed him gently.

“I’m ready, I trust you,” he smiled up at you from where you perched on his lap and you giggled and he flipped you over, laying between your legs with a feral grin.

He made you cum three times with his mouth and those beautiful, beautiful hands alone – more than you had ever experienced with a man and he hadn’t even received any pleasure yet. Except from the pleasure of watching his perfect mate fall apart on his sheets, over and over.

And when he lay over you, your legs pushed up and wrapped around his waist, and his forearms on either side of your head – he would later swear he had never felt more complete.

“I’m here with you remember, will be the whole time.” He assured you, voice soft as he lined himself up and you smiled.

“I love you so much,” you whispered, and he pushed in slowly, filling every part of you and pushing against every spot you didn’t know you had. You swore under your breath when he bottomed out, the slight pain quickly being reduced to please as he dropped his head into the crook of your neck.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good,” you felt shivers run through your body at his gruff voice and smiled, moaning when he began to move.

He pulled his head from where it hid in your neck and watched as you closed your eyes – head thrown back with a smile – and his hips bucked, desperately trying to control himself as he watched you arch your back.

“Shit Az, you’re so big,” you moaned loudly, unaware of the trance you had pulled your mate into.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered with a harsh thrust, a hand coming to stroke down your face as you opened your eyes to meet his, “So perfect.”

You felt as if your heart was going to burst from the love that filled it as you reached up to kiss him softly – conveying every word, every thought, through that kiss. When you pulled away you were nearing your end, the sensations building in you without the need of a fantasy or your own hand.

You moaned his name, gripping his shoulders tightly as one hand instinctively moved to stroke down his wing. He shuddered above you with a loud groan – his thrusts speeding up as he to neared release, yours hips surely bruising from the force of his own.

“C’mon baby, need to feel you, need to know you’re mine.” His words ignited something in your stomach, and you clung tighter to him, kissing his sharp jaw as you smiled.

“I’m yours Azriel, now and forever.” Your gentle words pushed him over the edge and his skilful fingers dipping between your thighs brought you down with him. The two of you crying out at the sensations you shared as a growing need to never let him go consumed you.

He collapsed on top of you soon after and he intertwined your fingers with his own as your breathing evened out. He slipped out of you, and you smiled up at him as he sat up, rolling off your body and laying to the side while you came to rest your head on his firm chest. He brought his spare hand upwards – twirling strands of your hair slightly as you rested in silence. After a few minutes, you clambered into his lap and kissed him firmly as he pulled you impossibly close.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips, and he felt his heart swell with gratitude to the world for giving him an angel that would willingly hold his hand and guide him out of the darkness.

“I am so in love with you,” he whispered back, and you giggled, a hand moving slowly to stroke him as you felt him harden beneath you again.

“Hmm, is that so?” you whispered.

Azriel, who had started pressing light kisses into your neck, nipped you gently, making you squeal, “What were you saying darling?”

“That I am also deeply, and unequivocally in love with you.” You replied and he rolled his eyes.

“Just putting me to shame with your big words.” He muttered and you giggled – crawling down his body.

“I’m sure I could make it up to you.”

#acofas #acotar #azriel #acomaf #azriel x reader #acowar #acofs #acosf

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1kook · 3 years

Text

skirt chasers — drabble iv

THIS IS A SKIRT CHASERS DRABBLE - FIND THE OTHERS HERE ! SUMMARY Jungkook was a man. A skirt chaser. He could only withstand so much torture before he broke, and seeing your gorgeous, smooth legs on display after so many weeks of starvation awoke an ancient being inside of him. WARNINGS JK POV!!!, attempted solo masturbation, k*ssing, jk’s extensive knowledge of pornos, grinding, cunnilingus, face sitting, spit kink, light choking, praise kink, self nipple play, a love for boobies, unprotected sex, use of the pull out method, i love u kink, its kinda hinted tht oc has a somnophilia kink? not rlly but tagging just in case -_- RATING m (18+) WC 6.3k this can't even classified as a drabble anymore wtf

NOTES i have had this in my drafts since may 3. it is december 21. everyone point n laugh. anyway i very much love stimbo sc jk and i think he’s very cool so here’s a whopping 6k of the inner mechanisms of his big nerdy, college hottie brain <3

He doesn’t notice you’ve drifted off until he’s three solid paragraphs into his semester-long research paper. “Babe, can you toss me my charger it’s over…”

Jungkook swears he’s gonna take every single one of those stupid skirts and burn them to ashes. They had done their duty well, had given him the girlfriend of his dreams, but now they were just pushing their luck. What was once the epitome of a cute and sweet girlfriend, has now become the bane of Jungkook’s existence. He loathed them, he hated them, he could go twenty million decades without ever seeing them again because the torture they inflicted upon him was borderline inhumane.

Holy fuck, he knew you were gorgeous— hello, he was your boyfriend, thinking you were gorgeous was very high on the list of requirements you searched for in someone of his position —but he’s absolutely positive that you’re probably the sexiest woman he’s ever seen in all his twenty-two years. And Jungkook’s seen a lot of porn. Like, a lot.

He can’t help himself. Before Jungkook knows it, he’s rolling his desk chair over to where you’re sprawled across his bed, skin so soft where it presses against his pillow, lips so plush, and he’s pretty sure there’s a tiny, tiny droplet of drool begging to escape from between your puckered lips. Normally, he’d tease you to hell and back for this, knows how flustered you become when he catches you off guard, but today he lets it slide in favor of focusing on something else about your dozing form.

It’s the soft curve of your hips from where you lay on your side, smooth legs tucked close to you, and that goddamn pleated skirt giving you absolutely no protection from the eyes of the world around you. Luckily, he made sure to lock the door to his room when you came over today. And he’s almost positive Taehyung isn’t home anyway. So there’s no potential roommate to see you here, cuddled against Jungkook’s teddy bear, blue lace panties tucked between your folds.

They were his favorite.

Adorable and soft, and he knows that particular style— the cheeky kind —is your preferred style, because it’s the one he sees almost every time the two of you fuck. Seamless, because you hate when they tug against your skin, and baby blue simply because it was your favorite color. He can’t recall the last time they had been so exposed like this.

God, how many times had this same situation occurred? You dropping by to encourage him to do his homework, before eventually falling asleep and leaving him to his own devices. A lot of times, Jungkook guesses, because each and every time you wake up and nab one of his protein bars from the stash by his bed. Jungkook’s gone through four boxes in the last month.

But how many times had this happened with you in a skirt? Never. This was a rarity.

As the year progressed and yours and Jungkook’s relationship reached new levels of intimacy and adoration, Jungkook is sad to say the skirts had begun appearing less and less. It was winter and, unlike the furnace that was Jungkook’s body, he’s pretty sure you were a cold-blooded reptilian at this point, always leeching off of him for warmth. So since you couldn’t stand the cold, the skirts slowly faded into the background, replaced by Jungkook’s second favorite: the leggings.

He was no complainer, Jungkook respected your decisions! He wasn’t going to pressure you into wearing those cute tiny skirts he loved so much just because it fueled some PornHub-esque fantasy in his brain, especially not as a harsh winter descended upon you and the days became colder. He would not risk a sick girlfriend in the name of a horndog daydream.

But holy mother of pearl, Jungkook was a man. A skirt chaser. He could only withstand so much torture before he broke, and seeing your gorgeous, smooth legs on display after so many weeks of starvation awoke an ancient being inside of him.

Sure he’d seen them every time you guys fucked— duh. But this was not the same. It was different, seeing the tender skin of your inner thigh when he knew you weren’t trying to, your skirt stuck between you and the bed as you shifted about. It was different, knowing he could so easily have you, just flip up the skirt and tug your underwear to the side, not having to worry about fighting your leggings or skinny jeans down your legs. It was different and it was good, so painstakingly good, to have you in the skirt, but the worst part was Jungkook couldn’t even do anything because you were fucking sleeping.

He’d subconsciously pictured you like this for weeks, sprawled out on his sheets in the flimsiest clothing and ready for him to just slide right in, but Jungkook was a good boy—you’d told him as much just last week when he’d paid the bus fare for that ragtag group of teenagers, smiling up at him like he was your entire world. Was he sometimes a little too mean, a little too wild? Yes. But at his core, Jungkook lived for your praise. He couldn’t just stomp on that title you’d so lovingly bestowed upon him, a title he’d worked hard for since!

Furthermore, even if Jungkook wasn’t a good boy, to touch you in your sleep just seemed wrong. You’d mentioned in passing once that you wouldn’t mind as long as it was him (“I’m yours,” you had purred at some party, hand crawling down his abdomen, “your doll, remember?”), but Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to when you were so vulnerable and just… not there. It wouldn’t feel right to use your body when you weren’t awake, and no amount of encouragement from you would change his mind.

So he does what all good boys do and prepares himself for a quick, self-administered handfuck.

Sue him, his girlfriend was hot!

It’d been a little over two weeks since the last time the two of you had fucked, and it was mostly his fault; clinicals and research papers had practically consumed what little free time he had in his schedule. And if Jungkook remembers correctly, he wouldn’t be that lucky this upcoming week either. Something tells him your period was approaching.

Jungkook doesn’t know what type of sorcery you’ve done to him, but in the time you’ve been dating, it’s become increasingly more and more difficult to nut without you. Whether that be fucking you, listening to your voice, or just imagining your pretty face in his head, you held a monopoly over Jungkook’s libido, one that he feared you’d never let go.

He had years stacked on years of browsing PornHub and Brazzers, can recall experiencing some of the craziest orgasms of his life while watching some girl get fucked. All things come to an end. Ever since he started dating you, not even his favorite video could make him hard anymore. Oh, how the great have fallen.

But with your blue panties before him, his cock hardens by the minute, nearly doubles in size when you move about and sigh a heavenly sound. Frankly, he doesn’t feel bad jerking one off to the thought of you. You were his girlfriend! He knows that you know that you’re the main character of all his right-handed adventures, and you’re not going to be mad at him for jerking off to you now. In fact, Jungkook imagines you’d be mad if he’d woken you up just for some frenzied quickie. This way, he’s blowing off some steam and you’re getting an extra ten minutes of napping. Everyone wins.

He’s barely tugged himself out of the confines of his sweats when a soft mumble of his name has his soul leaving his body. “Kook?”

“Baby,” he exhales, immediately tucking himself back into his underwear before moving closer towards you. You roll onto your back, skirt useless as fuck, he thinks, as it sprawls around your waist. “What’s up?” he murmurs, voice gentle, a hand carding through the nape of your neck because that’s how you always wake him up. Jungkook would be a liar to say it wasn’t one of the best feelings in the world.

You say something, but it’s a mess of gibberish and too quiet for him to understand, before turning on your side again and shuffling closer to him. Jungkook smiles, runs the tips of his fingers over your cheek, before moving to caress your back, massaging some feeling back into your muscles. Some more mumbled words, but this time he deciphers them as something along the lines of “c’mere.”

He chuckles, ducking down to kiss your cheek. “Don’t wanna interrupt your nap, baby,” he hums. “Go back to sleep.”

You whine in protest, suddenly catching his hand in yours. “Please,” you sigh, eyes fluttering open, but they’re unfocused as you gaze at him. Jungkook clenches his teeth. Technically he should be working on that twelve page research paper, and even just trying to jerk off right now would have been a huge setback. Crawling into bed with you, where you’re so sinfully laid out for him to take, would completely offset his plans until tomorrow. He had to be a responsible student here.

“I really gotta finish my paper…” he says, trying to let you down as gently as possible, flashing you an apologetic gaze. He thinks he has it in the bag, and your extended silence almost has him rolling back to his desk, when you suddenly snap into action.

“But what about your dick,” you murmur, and Jungkook chokes.

“My what—?” he splutters, voice a little too high.

You say nothing, craning your neck to release a series of cracks, soft huffs leaving your lips. Jungkook’s on edge the whole time, eyes following the movement of your neck, the hypnotizing expanse of skin that bares itself to him. “Saw your hand down your pants,” you say, eyes blinking open, and though they’re droopy with sleep, at least you can hold them open this time.

Jungkook laughs nervously, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck in embarrassment. “You saw that?” A soft hum. He wants to die. “Ah, baby, don’t worry about it. Know you’re tired, so just nap,” he sighs, caressing the back of your head once again, and he thinks he’s finally convinced you so he lets his guard down.

You moan softly, and he’s almost entirely sure it’s one of those waking up types of sounds, the ones you make when you’re stretching around the bed in the morning. “Want your cock.”

Jungkook swears he’ll die, right here, right now.

He groans, lowers his head to rest on the mattress. “Jesus, fuck, baby,” he huffs, has to count to ten to will the stirring of his slowly hardening cock away for the second time that day. “Don’t say stuff like that when you’re half asleep, please.”

You ignore him, the hand that had been wrapped around his wrist tugging him closer. You barely succeed, muscles still so weak, but Jungkook humors you and rolls his chair right beside your head, where he ducks down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Noooo,” you whine when he draws away too quickly.

A laugh blossoms in his chest, and Jungkook proceeds to rain down a series of kisses on your pretty face before he can stop himself. You melt under his touch, his affection, and Jungkook adores the way your body is so soft and pliant like this, back arching towards him after he places a hand on your waist.

“Come here,” you urge, voice a quiet plea. So soft, so needy.

Jungkook malfunctions for just a second before he’s clambering over you on the bed, manhandling your body until you're both on your sides, facing each other, with you pressed tightly to his chest. Even with your hands brushing up and down his back in the way that sends every nerve in Jungkook’s body tingling, and your leg thrown over his hip, some stupid part of him convinces himself you’re just cold, trying to warm up after walking around campus in that tiny little skirt all day. He cuddles you as best as he can.

And even with his dick twitching in his pants and his caveman instincts yelling at him to thrust up into your inviting core, Jungkook remains as professional as someone in a relationship can be when in bed with their lover. He’s so stuck on his self-control that he almost doesn’t hear the snort you muffle against his neck.

“What are you doing?” you laugh, reaching up to pinch his cheek. Jungkook blinks, eyes wide like a doe caught in headlights. “Are we gonna fuck or what?”

He chokes. He doesn’t even try to muffle his reaction like other times, because the way you’re looking at him and the heel you press against the back of his thigh preoccupies his thoughts instead. Your hands are still tracing along his back, melting him with your dainty touches. “Baby?” you question after he’s been silent too long, distracted by the way you use that hooked leg to tug your bodies closer.

“You… you’re still asleep,” Jungkook says, though it’s definitely a question.

You scoff, a smile curling around your features. “Mm, definitely not asleep,” you tease, and shift to push him onto his back, wiggling on top of him until those baby blue panties are pressed against his quickly hardening member. “Why? Wanted to touch me when I was asleep?” you continue, and Jungkook’s eyes nearly burst out of their sockets.

“No!” he exclaims, hands clutching your hips in alarm. He can tell he surprises you, because your eyes go wide for a brief second. “Never…” he mumbles afterwards, looking away from your imploring gaze. “Only like you when you’re awake.”

You sigh, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek that makes his heart flood with adoration for you. “You’re a good boy, Jungkook,” you say back, just as quietly. “A blueprint for the perfect man.” Another kiss, this time against the corner of his mouth that makes Jungkook’s hands twitch against your sides.

A soft moan tears itself from his throat, fingers digging into your hips as you slowly roll them against him. The heat emanating from your core seeps past the thin barrier of his sweatpants, makes his cock twitch in his boxers. He knows how it feels inside of you, has your body memorized like the back of his hand. But it’s in moments like these that he finds himself aching for you, desperate to feel the fluttering walls of your pussy, the pitiful whimpers that fall from your kiss swollen lips. And, well. The skirt makes it all too easy.

He places two hands on the backs of your thighs, runs them up until he’s pushing your skirt up over your waist. You pull away from his lips with a sneaky little smile, pointer finger stroking down the side of his face lazily. “Mm?” you tease, leaving a coy little peck against his mouth. “Now you wanna touch?” Jungkook rolls his eyes, snaps his teeth at your wandering finger when you draw it too close to his mouth. The giggle you let out is so damn precious, makes him want to put you in a glass case and never let anyone else touch you. Coincidentally, it also makes him want to rail you into the mattress until you cry.

“I’ll fucking ruin you, doll,” he settles on murmuring, subtly pushing you down against him. A soft giggle. Jungkook knows it’s your favorite nickname, even if you won’t admit it. He's the only one allowed to call you it, something about his intentions being pure or whatever, he’s not really sure. Anyway, you’re still so cute and soft on top of him, blinking slowly and prettily, so he’s dragging it out a bit, hoping you’ll become more alert in a few more minutes.

As sleepy as you may be, you never miss out on a chance to rile him up. “As if, doll,” you retort, his nickname for you rolling off your tongue seamlessly. It sounds heavenly, sparks this weird emotion in him that he never considered before. Him, a doll? No way. But there’s something about the sweet lilt of your voice, the starry-eyed gaze you level him with, that has him throwing all reservations aside. Put him on a shelf and call him Barbie, because he would be anything you wanted him to be.

Anyway, Jungkook’s sappy thoughts last all of two seconds before he’s rolling you over, successfully trapping you beneath his body. “Oh, so scary,” you feign, hands fluttering to clutch at your chest.

He glides his hands down your body, let’s them trail over your hip and down the side of your thigh. “Don’t get sassy with me,” he warns, thumb peeking beneath the hem of your skirt. Jungkook really wants to burn the piece of fabric this time, because after all that time it spent torturing him with its halfhearted attempts at covering you, it chooses now to do it properly.

Hands are thrown around his shoulders, the overwhelming scent of your perfume and body wash tickling his nose when you pull him in for another kiss. “Or what?” you purr, irises swirling with lust. “Gonna use your manly man strength to hold me down?”

He shushes you with a kiss, slow and languid just how you like. Your taste is familiar, feels like coming home, so Jungkook can’t be blamed for getting too carried away. It starts gentle— it always does. But then a tiny mewl gets stuck in your throat, the following moan swallowed by his tongue, and Jungkook nearly loses it. He nips at your bottom lip, waits patiently for you to open up for him, and when you do he wastes no time diving in. Your tongue against his is slick and wet, makes the most lewd sound. Your little sharp intakes of air fill the gaps, shuddery breaths that Jungkook takes as a good sign.

He strikes while the iron is still hot.

It’s amidst your lazy kissing that he secures his hands around your waist, two reassuring squeezes thrown your way before he’s abruptly rolling onto his back again. “Kook!” you squeal, clutching at the front of his shirt. A pouty frown paints your face, sleepy eyes narrowing him with a rather unimpressed look, tainted with the barest hints of confusion.

Jungkook grins, reaching back to yank his pillow out from beneath his head. “On my face,” he commands suddenly, and you snort.

“What?” you ask a little incredulously, leaning back to level him with an even more lost expression. “Since when do we do that?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Since I decided twenty seconds ago,” he answers rather bluntly. You still don’t look too convinced. It’s not a position the two of you have ever tried. You’re a little on the sappy side, always like to look at his face while you fuck, hold his cheeks in your palms, kiss him sweetly. On the one hand, Jungkook totally gets it; he’ll proudly admit that the sight of your orgasming face paired with your fantastic tits have done him many favors these past few months.

However, Jungkook is a lover of head. Giving or receiving, it’s very high on his list of sexual acts and whoever invented oral deserved all the praise in the world. Not only did you look drop dead gorgeous with his cock in your mouth— tears trailing down your cheeks, drool clinging to the corners of your lips —but you also looked absolutely sexy receiving it.

Kinda.

Probably.

Okay, so maybe Jungkook can’t really say, considering he always has a hard time catching a glimpse of your face when he’s down there licking and slurping your clit like a madman. Which is what leads him to this exact moment, an experiment weeks in the making. Jungkook has a theory that needs to be tested. “Please ride the fuck out of my face,” he tries, hoping the polite tone will win you over.

He’s met with an eye roll. Still, you’re kinder than you let on. “Okay,” you give in, and Jungkook will remember your heroism for the rest of his life. “But only because being on top is empowering.” He just barely contains an over-enthusiastic fist pump into the air, settling on a rather modest smile that has you leaning down to kiss him again. You reach for the zipper on the side of your skirt. “Just let me—“

“The skirt stays on,” he says quickly, hand on your wrist to stop you from removing his most favorite article of clothing.

“Baby,” you say, giving him a rather serious look. “It’ll cover your face.”

“It won’t,” he urges, reaching for the buttons on your blouse instead. Jungkook has had one too many encounters with tops like these, and has long since learned not to tear them apart like a crazed psycho. As much as he loves the sound of your buttons scattering across his bedroom floor, he can’t say he’s too fond of the scolding he inevitably gets afterwards. Anyway, the shirt comes off and so does your bra, leaving your tits in his face, tiny skirt on your hips. “Get up here,” he murmurs, ushering you up his body until your knees are pressing into the mattress right above his shoulders.

If it was up to Jungkook, he would have just grabbed your hips and shoved his face against your pussy. Luckily, it’s not, and your common sense shines through just in time. “One sec,” you say, and then finally, finally, the blue panties come off.

And then it’s just Jungkook and your glistening pussy.

“Holy fuck,” he groans, taking the opportunity to wrap his arms around your thighs. You squeak when he pulls you closer, hand instinctively reaching for the front of your skirt to hold away from his face. The view from here is heavenly, just your swollen clit, gorgeous tits, and shy face.

The muscles in your thighs are a little stiff. Or maybe you’re just nervous. Jungkook isn’t sure, all he knows is that it takes one encouraging tug for you to finally sit on his face. He doesn’t even register the surprised gasp that leaves your throat because he’s too busy tasting your pussy from an all new position. And it’s absolutely amazing.

Something about the position, having you carefully poised above him, does something to Jungkook. He likes to think he knows your body inside and out, knows what makes you melt and what makes you scream. He knows just how to lap at your cunt until you’re cumming, and how many fingers it takes for you to really feel it. But it’s like having you in this position changes all of that, rearranges all the tidbits of information Jungkook has spent months collecting.

(Jungkook is a meticulous man; he’s got a near perfect GPA right now that was the direct result of his carefully crafted note-taking techniques. Whether or not he abused the power of his perfectionist learning abilities to master the mechanisms of his girlfriend’s libido was no one's business but his own.)

One kitten lick against your swollen pearl makes you buck forward, clit brushing against his nose. Jungkook can’t remember you ever doing that on the first lick. “O- oh my—,” you cry, all airy and whiny. Your hand is pressed to the wall behind his bed, the other bunching the front of your skirt just above your mound. He’s rather happy to learn that, just as he’d hypothesized, this position does give him a better view of you.

He’s graced with the sight of your face, twisted up in pleasure. It’s the stereotypical eyes squeezed shut, lip caught between your teeth look. But there’s something different about it knowing that he’s gotten this reaction out of you with his mouth alone.

Jungkook quickly repositions you over him, tugging you back until his tongue is lined up with the front of your slit. You’re so warm down here, make him feel like he’s drowning with your heady scent alone. Tentatively, he lets his tongue dip between your folds, the very tip nudging your swollen clit. A moan tears itself from your throat, the hand that had been flush against the wall suddenly jumping forward to bury itself in his hair. “Oh- oh, fuck,” you shiver, hips jolting forward once more.

You taste good on his tongue, the arousal that coats your lips is sticky and sweet. When he laps his tongue along your folds, quivering hole to stiffened bud, you let out a sob that resonates deeply within Jungkook. And also Jungkook’s cock, which stirs beneath his trousers in excitement. What was once the focus of his mission, a quick handfuck to sedate himself before finishing his research paper, has long since been forgotten. It’s for the greater good, he tells himself, blinking up at you from between your thighs.

Eye contact lasts for exactly three seconds before you’re looking away bashfully, the fist clutching at your skirt trembling against your tummy. You’re so fucking pretty, Jungkook’s heart can’t take it.

And so he sets out on a mission to make you cum as soon as possible, abandoning his slow kitten licks in favor of suctioning his lips around your clit. “Kook,” you wail, tugging at his hair. Whether you do it purposely or not, Jungkook is a little shocked by how good the pain feels. It’s not an emotion he can ponder long, because then you’re using that same grip in his hair to tilt his head backwards, jerkily moving over him.

It’s rough and sudden, the buck against his face, but Jungkook loves it. The drag of your pussy against his lips, the wet glide of your juices smearing across his chin and Cupid’s bow. It all feels so good, and the fact Jungkook is getting a front row seat to the absolutely torn look on your face is just the cherry on top.

Jungkook has seen you make a lot of faces. He’s seen you shiver and drool as he nails you into your bed. He’s seen you sniffle and sob as he slowly fucks you in a rose petal filled bubble bath (a six month anniversary special planned by yours truly). He’s even seen your mirrored reflection fall apart as you bounced away on his lap in front of a mirror.

He’s never seen you like this before.

Needy and desperate, moaning his name softly, practically humping his face in your greed. Tiny skirt clutched against your waist, tits bouncing as you hurriedly grind against him. He has half the mind to burn this scene into his eyelids for the rest of his life.

He’s given up on doing anything with his tongue, simply sticking it out for you to do as you wish. Normally, he’s not a huge fan of letting you do things yourself. After all, Jungkook was your boyfriend. Making you cum was his job. But you’re moving so fast, so frantic, in your mission to cum. So Jungkook sits back and lets you go to town on his mouth as a series of moans spill from your lips.

And then something unforgivable happens.

Jungkook will admit it: he’s staring at you almost a little too dreamily, heart eyes and all. He thinks you’re fucking hot, taste like heaven and have these absolutely delicious boobs bouncing up and down. He’s a little distracted by your glorious figure that he doesn’t notice one crucial bit of information.

Your hand.

The desperate need to cum has your muscles weakening, thighs moving at a latent pace, and, much to Jungkook’s horror, hands trembling. It’s your own pleasure that lets the unimaginable happen: your skirt flutters down. Your grip on it loosens and before Jungkook knows it, the sight of your pretty face and nice tits are gone, snatched away before his very eyes. Even your wet cunt is impossible to see, his world suddenly shrouded in darkness.

Leave it to Jungkook to foil his own horny plan with, well, his horniness. If only he wasn’t so hopelessly in love with the image of you in skirts. Maybe then he could bask in the beauty that was you riding his face.

He acts fast, reaching for the material before he can miss out on anything. But the angle is weird, and without Jungkook’s hands holding your hips, you’re left weakly rolling forward instead. And he’s not the only one frustrated with this turn of events, your face quickly returning to its normal composed form as you level him with a frown. “Everything okay?” you pant.

Everything was not okay, but Jungkook isn’t sure how to tell you that without ruining this delicate moment. So he tries to show you with actions instead, releasing the skirt he’s got in his fist and letting it flutter over his face again. You giggle. “I told you so.”

It takes more willpower than he’d like to admit to pull away from your wet folds, pulling off with a lewd sound that has you biting your lip as you gaze down at him. “I told you so,” he mimics, a little mean but you don’t take it to heart. “Hold your skirt up.”

You hum, the grip on his hair loosening as you push away his dark locks instead. “Mmmm,” you hum. “No.”

“No?” he repeats, actually really scandalized. Okay, so he’s a little spoiled when it comes to you— it’s not his fault! You made him like this, conditioned him to think that you would always give into his every whim because you were just so sweet and considerate and wanted him to be happy. And Jungkook also wants you to be happy, and in his opinion, being happy right now means having him fuck your pretty brains out for ever getting sassy with him.

“I don’t listen to men,” you tease, followed by a cute little nod, skin still a little warm from your looming orgasm. Jungkook takes advantage of your tiny moment of weakness, and strikes like a viper.

A girlish squeal leaves your lips, hands stretching outwards as he knocks you backwards onto the mattress. “Jungkook,” you gasp, sprawled out artfully, beautifully, over his sheets now. He doesn’t waste a second longer, crawling over your body until you’re a shivering mess beneath him.

Hand against your throat, the other blindly reaching for the front of his sweatpants. “What is it, doll?” he drawls meanly, reveling in the way your eyes roll back when his newly-freed cock lands against your slit. A choked gasp leaves your throat, lashes fluttering wildly until Jungkook loosens his grip.

You’ve done a nice job riling yourself up, lips squelching wet and loose when he runs the tip of his cock along them. Your knees are pulled up for him, spread perfectly for him to fit between. You’re so good for him, Jungkook feels a little bad for how hard he’s going to fuck you now.

The sympathy doesn’t last long.

Once upon a time, you had been the epitome of a cute and sweet girlfriend. Had picked him up from class, encouraged him to do his homework, wore these cute little skirts around campus. Deep down inside, Jungkook knew everyone else was jealous of him— you were just so pretty and cute, a girl straight out of everyone’s dreams.

Until he sunk his horny claws into you. Jungkook will be the first to admit he spends a little too much time browsing porn sites— he’s a man, cut him some slack —which had never caused him any problems before. Even when the two of you were just friends (pining ones at that), you had never seemed even remotely affected by his extensive pornographical knowledge. It was a known fact among your friend group that Jungkook’s best friend was his right hand.

But then, of course, you started dating Jungkook and it was like a save file of all his horniest fantasies was downloaded directly into your brain. Which leads him to this.

“Spit in my mouth,” you shiver, got these huge, watery eyes pointed his way. His cock twitches.

There’s a little groan that tears itself from his throat when he leans forward, cock sliding along your folds, to grasp your chin between his fingers. “Open,” he commands, and you do. Your lower lip quivers, tongue pressed against it as you wait for Jungkook to spit down your mouth. He can’t say he regrets letting you peek through his porn stash, not when it leads to this, you whimpering at the hot glob of saliva he shoots down your throat. “Filthy,” he pants, memorizing the movement of your throat when you swallow like the good girl you are.

Before he can write another twelve sonnets about that dazed look on your face, he’s roughly grabbing at your thigh. You whine, limbs so pliant beneath his touch, letting him hike your knee over his forearm as he tugs you closer. “Fuck,” he groans, reaching down to align himself with your quivering hole. You’re still so wet, make the most lewd sound when he sinks into you. Not that Jungkook really hears it, the sound of your strained moans practically drowning everything else out.

“Fuck,” you cry, one hand clutching at his forearm, the other toying with your breast. It’s a magnificent sight, and Jungkook is suddenly feeling a little cocky when he realizes he’s the only one who gets to see this. It’s this presumptuous nature that fuels the first round of thrusts into your cunt, fast and full. He makes sure you feel every inch of him, tip to base, as he pistons his hips forward. “J— Jungkook,” you pant, back arching beneath him.

You take it so well, walls sucking him in every time he draws back out. “I’ve got you, doll,” he moans, hiking your leg further over his shoulder. Every roll of his hips has your tits bouncing back and forth, lower lip as well with the dopey, open-mouthed look you got on for him. And the damned skirt that got him here, fucking you with a punishing pace, sits perfectly around your waist. He has half the mind to take it off for you, briefly wonders if it hurts, but just looking at it reminds him of about thirty-seven pornos he’s seen. So it stays on, works alongside your lovestruck face to actively rewrite all those pornos anew with you starring in them instead.

It sure helps when you start your usual mindless babbling. “I love you,” you gasp, face screwed up in pleasure. “I- I love you so much.”

He’s contemplating doing a study on you and your weird mid-fuck confessions. You do this a lot, and while Jungkook doesn’t mind, it sure does leave him curious. “Love you too, baby,” he says anyway, repositioning his arms so he can hold your waist with both hands.

“Really?” you ask, voice so whiny, eyes brimming with tears. From emotion or your need to cum, Jungkooks not sure. (Hence the need for a study!)

Another brutal thrust that has you moaning loudly. “Really,” he reassures you, glancing down to watch his cock sink into your hole as he picks up the pace. Your arms are practically limbless, and his stomach is beginning to feel tight. The end was soon. “Love your pretty little face.”

Another whine, your fingers pulling at your pebbled nipples. “M- My pretty face?” you whimper, blink these long lashes up at him. They make Jungkook go a little mad, bring on a wave of jackhammer thrusts that cut your moans into choppy little cries instead.

“Prettiest girl I know,” he groans, not once stopping the movement of his hips. You’re quivering like a leaf beneath him, your entire body locking up as Jungkook guides you toward orgasm. “A fucking doll, baby— so beautiful for me,” he praises.

It’s exactly what you want to hear— secretly, Jungkook hypothesizes that you’re a little bit of an attention whore —crying out when he slows to a grind against you. Each roll of his hips has him rubbing over your swollen bud, leaves you trembling until you’re eventually unraveling beneath him. “Oh- Oh, fuck— Jungkook—“ you sob, writhing beneath him as you cream his cock.

Your tits look amazing, nipples stiff from your arousal and all the attention you’d been giving them. Your features soften, gasps framed by your pillowy lips. As Jungkook has said before, your pretty face was the most dangerous weapon.

He manages a few more pistons of his hips, mostly for reputation sake, before he’s eventually pulling out. His right hand, once the sole hero of his solo sessions, makes a valiant return now as he jacks himself off over you. It takes a few harsh pulls of his cock until he’s spurting his jizz over you, painting your tummy and your tits in white ribbons of cum. You flinch, a tiny whimper leaving your throat at the mess he makes. “Fuck,” he groans one last time.

When it’s over, you have the audacity to shyly pull down the front of your skirt. As if your tits aren’t out and about, but Jungkook pretends he doesn’t see it. Instead, he channels his energy into peppering your face in kisses. “Best girl,” he praises, even though he knows you hate the nickname. “My beautiful feminist queen.”

A pinch against his cheek. It hurts like hell, but he endures it for now, still very much in love with your performance today. “Get me a towel,” you huffily ask, uncomfortable with the jizz sticking to your tummy, as if he didn’t spit in your mouth a few minutes ago.

His research paper is waiting for him at his desk, the materials he’d spent weeks collecting waiting to be typed up. But his girlfriend is so soft and sleepy, asking him to stay for another nap.

There was never a choice.

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slasherhaven · 3 years

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howdy!¡,,, i love your writing👉👈. are u taking requests? if so could i request a (oddly specific) future s/o that is spared bc when they were unconscious and Luda was singing she called her mama so Luda decided to keep her bc "I've always wanted a girl" and so she finds herself having to interact and introduce herself to Thomas? If not that's okay dw!

Thomas Hewitt X Female Reader

I’ve Always Wanted a Girl

Word count: 2682

Luda May dabbed a cloth against the cut on your forehead, wiping away the blood. You had a pretty nasty fall, hitting your head and knocking yourself unconscious.

Instead of having Thomas take you straight down to the basement, she asked him to lay you on the couch. You just looked so peaceful in your sleep, so she thought that she could at least take care of you a little while Thomas prepped the basement.

Luda May knew that you couldn’t actually be left alone, in case you woke up and escaped. So, she went about her business, cleaning up the living room. All while humming and singing softly to herself.

Your hearing rang in your ears as your consciousness slowly returned to you, eyes blinking open but vision blurred. You slowly started to process the sound of somebody singing, a blurred figure moving around the room. The song sounded familiar...something your mother used to sing to you as a child.

“Mama?...” you weren’t even aware that you spoke, but the older woman heard you instantly.

Your voice halted Luda May in her tracks, making her turn to you. A small smile formed on her face, well isn’t that sweet?

She walked over to where you lay and sat down beside you. “You’re alright now, Dear” she cooed to you, brushing your hair out of your face. The touch and shushing was comforting in your dizzy state, and it lulled you back to sleep.

Luda May looked up when she heard Thomas enter the room, probably to take you down to the basement. “Leave her be, Tommy” she smiled, earning her a confused head tilt from the large man. “I’ve always wanted a daughter” she confessed, making her intentions known.

Thomas just nodded, accepting her decision. He didn’t mind so much as long as you didn’t harm anyone, but he was sure that Hoyt wouldn’t approve. Though...Luda May would certainly get her way.

“Thomas, be a good boy and take her up to the spare room, will you?” she asked.

Thomas nodded, walking over to you and Luda May stood up. He carefully slipped an arm under your shoulders and another under your knees, lifting you off of the couch and holding you against his chest. He could see what Luda May saw in you, you looked so sweet and peaceful, he just wondered what had happened to make her change her mind so quickly.

Luda May just smoothed a hand over your hair again before letting him carry you up to the small unused bedroom.

Laying you down on the bed, Thomas cautiously pushed some hair out of our face, examining you before pulling his hand away. You were beautiful, even in your state of disarray after everything you had been through that day. There were still the stains of dried tears on your cheeks, but still you looked unrealistically pretty. You were the prettiest, sweetest looking thing in this house, you wouldn’t be a bad addition to the household. At least that’s how Thomas felt while looking at you, before quickly turning on his heel and leaving the room before he caught himself staring too long.

And that’s the short version of how you became the newest Hewitt. The family was obviously still cautious of you, watching your every move, but they made it clear that you were one of them now. Maybe you just had no backbone or maybe you were a realist, but you accepted your fate with some time and tried to adapt to it.

Luda May had insisted on you referring to her as “Mama”, and you did to keep the peace, Monty bossed you about most of the time, and you avoided Hoyt as much as you could since he seemed to be the least happy about your presence. Luda May had seemed to take on a motherly role with you, speaking to you as if you were her daughter, asking you to join her with chores and cooking. It had become a little routine for you now.

Then there was Thomas. Luda May had introduced you to him, he had nodded and shook your hand when prompted too. His hand completely engulfed your own, but his hold was surprisingly gentle despite the strength you could feel he possessed.

He didn’t talk much...ever, actually, and he seemed to avoid you a lot. If you didn’t need to be in the room together, he wouldn’t be there, hiding away somewhere else in the house. Though, when you were in the same room, you could sometimes feel him staring at you. You were sure he didn’t notice it, otherwise he would have surely been more subtle about it. Whenever you looked over and caught him staring, he would stare at the floor or his hands in shame.

Truth be told, you weren’t sure what to make of the large man. He was intimidating and had a threatening stature but he never gave you true reason to fear him. He was quiet and gentle whenever he had to interact with you, he was downright timid, and he seemed to have the same avoidance you had with Hoyt.

You could tell that he was closer to Luda May, his mother. She had told you the full story of how she became Thomas’ mother, having found him cold and alone as an infant. Thomas hadn’t looked at you while she told the story, like he didn’t want to see your pity.

“Oh Thomas!” you heard Luda May’s concerned voice coming from the entrance of the home, “what have you done?”

With a small frown, you wandered out of the kitchen to see Luda May fussing over Thomas. He was holding a dirty, blood soaked rag against the palm of his hand. He just shook his head, silently assuring her that he was fine.

“If you’re not going to take care of it, I will. Go to your room, I’ll be up in a moment” spoke like a true mother, you smiled a little bit to yourself. As much as you hated to admit it to yourself, you were an honorary member of this family.

Thomas huffed, making you smile again, before nodding and marching up the stairs.

Luda May muttered to herself, shaking her head as she turned to you. “Oh, Y/n, dear. Come with me” she encouraged, passing you as she walked into the kitchen. You followed behind obediently.

“Thomas has cut open his palm. Probably on one of those cars, they’re death-traps” she told you as she started digging through one of the kitchen cabinets. You decided against pointing out the irony.

“Now I have to convince Hoyt to finish the job” she huffed before turning to you with a box in her hands. “Do you mind taking car of Tommy for me?” she asked, presenting the box, presumably a first aid kit of sorts, to you.

“Oh, I don’t think I know how too” you shook your head, eyes widening slightly.

“You clean the wound, clean it with some alcohol to prevent infection, and wrap it with some bandages” she told you simply.

“What if it needs stitches?” you asked, still not taking the box.

“I taught you to sew, didn’t I?” she asked and you nodded, eyes wide at that being the only qualification you apparently needed. “Thomas will help you with the rest” she assured you before thrusting the box into your hands.

You gripped the box nervously before Luda May left the room. Wandering out of the kitchen, you came to the bottom of the staircase. Walking up the stairs was daunting, you had barely spent any time alone with Thomas, and this was definitely be the longest amount of time you spent directly interacting with him.

Finally, you were standing outside of Thomas’ bedroom. You decided to knock, not wanting to be impolite. You heard movement on the other side of the door before it was pulled open, you had to tilt your head back slightly to look up at Thomas’ face.

His eyes were widened slightly, clearly surprised to see you. “Luda May sent me to look at your hand” you explained, glancing down at his still bleeding hand. Even though Luda May insisted on you referring to her as ‘mama’, you only did so when she was around.

Thomas seemed hesitant but eventually nodded and stepped to the side, allowing you to enter his room. You heard the door close behind you as you quickly glanced around. The room was a little bigger than yours but you wondered if Thomas comfortably lay on the single bed in the room, he seemed a little too big for it even though an average sized man would probably be comfortable in it. It was tidier than you expected it to be, no clothes left out or anything.

You turned back to the man when you hears his footsteps behind you, he was still a few feet away from you.

“Uh...should we sit down?” you asked when he didn’t make any move.

Thomas nodded before crossing the room to his bed, sitting down on the edge. You walked over and sat down beside him, leaving enough room to place the first aid box on the bed between you both.

“Let me see your hand” you ordered gently.

Thomas unwrapped the dirty rag from his hand and held it out to you. Carefully, you took hold of his hand in both of yours, turning it slightly to examine the wound. Thomas just watched, noticing how big his hands were compared to yours. He had noticed it when he shook your hand all that time ago but this made it even more oblivious, how you used both of your hands to move and turn it as you pleased. It was cute but the tenderness of your actions was what tugged at his heart the most.

“We should clean away the blood first. I can barely see it” you mumbled, more to yourself than to him. “I’ll go get some water” you suddenly dropped his hand and stood from the bed, with a nervous clumsiness.

You barely looked at him before leaving the room. Thomas shook his head at himself. You were so nervous, even to just be in a room with him. He wished he knew what you were thinking but he was sure that you were afraid of him, probably thinking he would hurt you. He couldn’t blame you. Why wouldn’t you think that? What else could make you so nervous about being near him?

His thought were interrupted by the sound of the door opening and closing, making him look up to see you walking back towards him with a bowl of water and a new cloth.

You sat back on the bed, placing the bowl on top of the box that sat between you both.

“Hand” you spoke gently, holding your own out. He placed the back of his hand in your palm, growing unsure when he saw you frown.

You hummed before pushing his hand back again. He was about to insist that he take care of his own wound, it wouldn’t be the first time, but then you pushed the box and the bowl further back onto the bed. He was surprised when you moved to sit closer to him, turning your body to face him and bringing one knee up onto the mattress.

You took hold of his hand again, gently placing it in your lap. He was definitely surprised by your actions but allowed it.

You worked in silence, wetting the cloth and cleaning away the blood from his hand. Thomas watched how intently you worked and how gentle you were being with him, like you were purposely trying not to hurt him.

Once the blood was cleaned up, you placed the bowl and bloody cloth down on the floor and opened the first aid kit. Inside the box was a small bottle of alcohol, a tube of some sort of cream, a fresh cloth, bandages, and the items you would need to apply stitches.

You picked up the bottle of alcohol and the fresh cloth. “This will probably sting” you warned him, looking up at him with genuine concern in your eyes. He just nodded.

You poured some alcohol onto the cloth before pressing it to his injured hand. He didn’t make a sound of pain or pull away but you did feel him tense even more than he already was. “Sorry” you murmured, making sure to coat the hold wound.

Once you were done with that, you placed the now dirty cloth in the water bowl with the other and closed the bottle before placing it back in the box.

You looked back at the hand, squinting at it slightly. You weren’t an expert at tending to wounds, you didn’t really know how deep the wound was or if it called for more than bandages.

“...do you think it needs stitches?” you asked, looking up at him again. Looking a little lost at what to do.

Thomas examined his own hand before shaking his head, smiling a little to himself as you let out a sigh of relief.

You reached back into the box, picking up the tube and smiling as you read the label. “Here, let me put some of this one it” you offered.

He just nodded, placing his hand back in your lap, allowing you to apply the antibacterial cream to his wound. He needed all the protection he can get with his work conditions.

You continued in silence as you finished and wrapped the bandages around his hand, securing them before packing everything back into the box.

“How does that feel? Too tight?” you asked and he shook his head, assuring you that it was fine. “Don’t forget to change them, alright?” you advised, “oh, and keep it clean.”

Again, he just nodded.

“...did you do this on one of the cars?” he nodded again. “Does that happen a lot?” he nodded again, confused about your questioning.

You just frowned, but you weren’t surprised. You had noticed a lot of little scars on his hands as you worked and the house wasn’t exactly hazard free. “Well, you should be more careful” you put a small smile on your face as you met his gaze again.

“I should go and finish cleaning the kitchen...if you need something, let me know, okay?” your offer seemed sincere enough, so he nodded. You were used to his silence.

You stood and collected the items you had brought in with you, heading for the door. When Thomas realised that your hands were full, he shot from the bed, hurrying over to open the door for you.

“Thank you” you smiled before leaving the room. “Tommy” his name made him stop closing the door, pulling it fully open again to look at you. You stood in the hallway now, items piled in your hands, a timid look on your face. “We should hang out more, I feel like you keep hiding from me” you let out a shy laugh.

Thomas was stunned. You wanted to spend more time with him? He nodded before he even realised he had. But he was glad he did because it seemed to put a smile on your face before you turned and headed for the stairs.

As he watched you disappear down the stairs Thomas became aware of a realisation that filled him with shame and dread. There was no way you would be so kind to him, even be in the same room as him, if you knew the way he thought of you, how he felt about you.

It’s why he had avoided you for so long, admired you from a distance. He didn’t want to scare you and he was nervous around you. Ever since the day he carried you up to the spare room, he had been infatuated with you. He had been enraptured by your beauty, and then in awe of your kindness considering your circumstances.

He loved you...

#thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slashers #slasher #My writing

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ryoskuna · 3 years

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⭑ promised eternity | hades!sukuna x persephone!reader au headcanons (PT 1).

A/N: ... yo... i would like to say whoever threatened to send me toe pics, a-plus, bc you made me release this into the wild. * insert megumi meme face here * but this is just HEADCANONS for a hades!sukuna and persephone!reader-esque universe, and because y’all are as thirsty as I am, it includes some SFW and NSFW headcanons. grab your water bottles, and I apologize for my subconscious now. (cause it’s always on auto-pilot and giving me wild af ideas.) We shall all thirst... over OG form sukuna as well, because ,, well, big daddy, do i need to say more??? also this is some seriously fantasy like au , sort of, it takes place during sukuna’s original time as a curse, when gojo’s ancestor was after him, and hints wildly on that, and also will hit moments where the sorcerers are of course, hunting him. feel free to give me your thoughts and ask questions, because i love you all. onward to the THIRST! ( also side note, promised eternity is the name of the potential series that may come from this. )

this is part one of the headcanons, and they’re all SFW.

being married to the king of curses is not easy. it’s awkward at first, and then later on, comforting at best. to have someone who believes in you, roots you on (even if he’s kind of mean about it at first), is better than having nothing. you’ve been looked at for so long as a “curse” for your untrained cursed energy, that to have someone who sees potential in your “god” given gifts instead of spite (or only useful in preventing a raid) is refreshing. and unsettling at first.

speaking of that, sukuna basically rescued you from your village. for the entirety of your life before him, your cursed energy has gone unchecked, untrained. so it fluctuates with your emotions. it’s useful when you summon your wrath to defend your village or when your untrained reverse cursed techniques help the crops grow— but any other time, you are known as a curse. your emotions grow sad or you grow angry, and people die accidentally. ( hence your harbinger of death nickname. ) sukuna, during his many trips to your village for taxes and the occasional “recruitment” of healthy women and me, he has noticed you. and he has noticed your vast amount of cursed energy. it’s all but too easy for him to command the head of your village to hand you over — your parent(s) have no say.

sukuna is generous enough to compensate them, and the head of village. it’s one of few kindnesses he’ll show, besides eventually to you. sukuna will never tell, not till much later on, that he noticed you in every visit he’s ever made. that you deserved better than the mockery and scorn of your people. he offers to burn them all for you, but your mercy says otherwise.

speaking of when he came to get you, he was 10 feet tall, dressed in a black montsuki kimono and hakama. all four of his arms are on display, and all four of his eyes are on you.

you, are in a shiromuku, complete with a wataboshi — you and your mother (or a village woman) made it, but it will not be the last of your “bridal” gowns as you travel through at least five villages before arriving at sukuna’s fortress-like palace. sukuna has prepared you both a uchikake style kimono (adorned with pinks and reds), a hikifurisode style kimono (black, but also adorned with whites and golds and reds)— lastly is the Tomesode, which you arrive to your new home in, adorned in pins and signs of your new status. it’s here you discover you are not meant to be a mistress, you are meant to be a wife. his wife. his first, and his only (or at least he’ll try to keep it that way).

sukuna does not make time for much. rumors of him are notorious of his over-indulgence, guided by only his pleasure and displeasure, which is slightly true. but he makes time for you. you aren’t like the others he’s taken in his time, whether for his entertainment or to be in his service (you are not his toy as he has a habit of disposing of his playthings once they bore him); you’re his wife, but you are also this powerful being, who if trained, will become even more powerful. if you were a sorcerer, you’d rival him — but you are his equal.

he tries to make you feel that way by shrinking down to your size. he drops his 10 ft height (even through he can grow larger), to 6′8 or 7ft (pick your preference). it helps him watch the way you fight him, and he’ll change his height to help you train to fight enemies of different sizes.

sukuna’s loyalty to you forms in the midst of gifts. he’s lavish and again, over-indulgent. before your lips ask for it, somehow you already have whatever you desire. however, he also realizes, the more that he’s around you that gifts don’t make you happy (as pleasing as they are). being in his company is what makes you happy. oh, and sukuna’s very careful to touch you. his strength knows no bounds, until you touch him. you have to be the one that touches him first. it’s a brush over the knuckles, your tiny hand wrapping around his big one.

the way you manipulate plants to your advantage as a defense will never not amaze him. the way you use vines to wrap around him to capture him is genius, and the sneak attack you give has gotten better. he’ll still tease you ask “is that the best you can do” with your hits to provoke more of your strength, and he’ll give praise at the end, in his own way. (more touches.)

sukuna’s untouched garden becomes yours as one of your wedding gifts. it’s yours, and all the servants know it. everyone on his grounds knows it is yours.

you haven’t realized it since your arrival, but there are female servants that are your handmaidens, but for the harem that sukuna supposedly keeps — you have no idea where they are. it isn’t till one of your handmaidens inform you that he freed them with compensation. it’s not an uncommon practice for him, you’re told. he does not keep anyone against their will, and he never forced the girls he kept to do anything. for him, war and fighting made his blood rush just as much as sex could.

you and sukuna’s cursed energy manages to mingle to create a rare flower, one that turns from a gold color to red at the tips of the petals. he later tells you that beautiful things can come from destruction, and it makes you think of yourself, and who you’ve become with his guidance as you look into his eyes.

the first time you sleep in his bed with him, he lays still on one side of the bed (which is unusual for him) until you beckon him closer. he meets you halfway in the middle, where you lay your head on his chest and listen to the sound of him breathing. he’ll never admit it at first, but the comfort you give to him is startling, but welcomed. he wraps two arms around you, but it isn’t until you’re sleep that all four hold you gently against him, as if those four arms are shields to keep you safe.

He admires your strength and the various ways it shows itself. He has since your “wedding day”, when you shed no tears at being taken from your family. When you told him “do what you will”, but also in your rage he tapped into when you wrapped thorny vines around him when he provoked you by calling you “a murderous curse of a girl”. He apologizes for this comment at some point, while you two lay together in the garden.

he presents to you a crown, shaped after the marks on his forehead (preserved through a picture painted on a fan). it is two horns towards the ceiling, made of black metal the color of obsidian.

sukuna enjoys towering over you. and more importantly, once it no longer startles you, you enjoy the safety that his height reminds you of.

the form of trust sukuna has with you is seen by the servants when assigns advisors to you, as well as teaches you how to deal with trials when they come forth. you are his rose with thorns now, and you know how to use them.

someone speaks ill of sukuna? you are reminding them of their place: “speak ill of your king again with that tongue of yours and i’ll take it”

OKAY BADASS, and sukuna is all for it, just “that’s my s/o”

and lord, the pet names this man has for you: “my dove” “my love” “my moon” and you with: “my sun and stars” (thank u got)... he’s got a lot of pet names.

he likes to hold you on his side for some reason, whenever he can. honestly, he just likes you close.

basically, you’re tough as hell and powerful as hell and you grow into your added strength and he loves it.

can you say POWER COUPLE OF THE AGES

#persephone & hades au ft. sukuna.#persephone and hades au ft. sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna.#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk hcs #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #jjk.#ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna #ryomen sukuna

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