#pointing at myself in the mirror like DON'T PLAY YOURSELF

[seancekitsch]

Vox from Hazbin Hotel x siren! reader?? PLEASEE i love this concept sm-

i think i accidentally created myself an oc, also, if you spot the showgirls reference ill give you a cookie, this is inspired by the general flavor of moulin rouge and showgirls

“What the FUCK?!” you all but screech, throwing your blush frustratedly at your vanity. The small compact hits the cool marble, and immediately the product with the pan shatters, ruined. It was expensive. Fuck. 

“I- I don’t know what happened…” Jinni, a succubus, your assistant and opening act, stutters from the door. Scared. 

You deflate, rolling your eyes as you calm yourself and stop scaring the girl. You have to remember to stop raging near her. She’s young, too young. 

Overlords in the club mean a good tip, mean security, mean you and girls like Jinni make rent safely and have some fun money to toss around as well. You practically fall into your chair, yank a fake eyelash off as you sigh, ready to put on the next pair for your closing number. 

“There’s gotta be some reason the voice didn’t work on him,” you say, “I’m gonna find out why.”

“Are you sure thats a good idea?” Jinni asks, her tail curling around one of her legs. You have a soft spot for the girl, you really do. A place like this is gonna tear her apart; or at least, it would if you didn’t immediately take her under your wing. You pat the little chair beside you, and wrap your arms around the girl as soon as she takes the spot. 

You both stare at each other’s eyes through the mirror, sweat and make up blurred against your complexions, a reassuring smile spreads across your face. 

“I’ll check and see if he has the VIP package, and pull out the damsel in distress act,” you tell the little succubus, now cheek to cheek with her.  She smiles at you through the mirror, knowing full well you’re ready to ham it up.

“Thats your best one,” she says, and comes closer to pick up a body glitter for you. Jinni leans on the chair behind you, resting her forearms on your shoulders. You gaze at her while your hand moves with the brush across your face, at this point muscle memory kicks in, flawless. She’s why you still play nice, you think. 

“Gonna make sure you don’t have to go back to doggy chow for dinner,” you chide as you finish up your new look, a bit more dewy and innocent looking, as you shake her off and grab a lace robe to walk backstage in. Jinni laughs, and then takes your seat to take off her own make up. 

You’ve done this walk thousands of times, the long dimly lit hallway, all of the girls rooms hidden behind flimsy curtains and makeshift doors, signed by girls current and long since past. Your feet feel light below you, though nerves course through your veins. The patrons cheering is almost quieted here, all the quiet white noise that sets you ablaze in excitement and anticipation for another performance. 

But before the end of the hall can be reached, a meaty hand comes out to stop you, wrapping around your bicep. 

“Outta my way, Flicker, I gotta tell the sound guy to switch my track,” You turn your head away from the stage manager, not willing to take a face full of his calamari breath.  

“You ain’t goin’ out there again tonight,” he explains, “Got a private booking with a big spender.”

You sigh, right, just what you needed right now. You wish you could shoot a quick text to Jinni but… your phone is back in your dressing room with her. She’ll have to fair without you until this is over. 

“Right now?” you meet his eyes, and you can tell he wanted you in there five minutes ago. Shit. Well, here goes the girls' good tips for the night, you sigh, and turn towards the stairwell that leads you up to the private boxes. 

These rooms are gross; there’s no way to sugar coat it. You hate private bookings, much preferring to dance on the floor with any high spending patrons, giving them the girlfriend experience while you have the added safety of being able to slip away. These private rooms don't even have walls, more like private theater boxes so the managers can make sure you're keeping the clients happy. Up here, your talents are much more obvious, much harder to avoid blame.

You wonder what this guy will want. A champagne pour? A strip tease? Or worst of all, a dry hump or an over the pants job? You’d hate for this asshole to fuck up your costume or make up. That shits not cheap down here, and you only hope that after this private booking the overlord in the back of the hall might have loosened up and opened his wallets to one of the other girls or the house. 

But it still digs at you, like an old wound you cannot help but pick at… that your voice didn’t work on—

Him.

Its him. You can see through the sheer curtain the overlord in a suit. An old fashioned in his hand as he leans against the railing, the finale of the show tonight kicking into full gear below, all of the patrons like dogs on leashes waiting to be released to dance and party with the girls until dawn once the stage is clear. 

“Oh, Sir!” you call to him as you pull back the curtain, your flimsy robe fluttering behind you, “What is a man of your caliber doing in a place like this?”

Maybe you’re laying it on a little thick with the sultry little voice and the innocent act, but that’s what the men pay you for. He turns quickly, as if he didn’t expect you here so soon, but his smile quickly grows, teeth glowing against the low lighting of the private box. 

“What do you mean?” HIs voice is smooth as butter, “Is a man of MY caliber not supposed to admire beautiful things? Consider me a patron of the arts.”

You lounge yourself on one of the couches, effortlessly parting the bottom of your robe, kicking your legs up, really giving him a show. The boning of your costume digs into your ribs, but you don’t move. You always win over the higher spenders by laying out the feast for them. 

“Is that so?” you ask, a fake demure giggle leaving your lips, “Well then consider me confused, because you didn’t look so happy during my number earlier.”

The glow of his eyes distracted you, both out on stage earlier and now. His gaze intense, his posture rigid. 

“Maybe,” he trails off, crossing the little box until he’s in reach. One of his large hands wraps around your ankle, and then carelessly yanks your ankle off the couch to force you sitting upright. Okay, you’re only a little offended. Moreso intrigued by his seemingly complete lack of attraction to you. You drop your robe from one shoulder, baring more skin to entice him. Men are men, after all. He moves to sit at the other end of the couch. Maybe not all is lost, you think, as you pour a glass of champagne from the side table. The girl they threw on stage instead of you is killing this performance from what you can tell, and you know she’ll finish strong by the aerial rig set up and ready to go for her. You sip your glass as he sips his, and lean in closer to him, hoping that a little more proximity to him will help you figure out his deal. 

“But maybe I’m more wondering what the fuck someone like you is doing here,” he sneers as he stands, leaving you falling sideways into the space he vacated, nearly spilling your glass. 

“I- I beg your pardon?” you splutter, the sultry voice gone for a moment as you check to make sure you didn’t waste a drop of champagne on your robe.

“And stop with the agreeable little whore act, you can talk to me,” he winks at you as he says it,  red glowing eye rimmed with teal. You sigh as you brush yourself off from both he physical and metaphorical stumble. Okay, what does he know?

“Someone like me?” you ask, your real voice now dripping through. 

“Someone with power, darling,” The overlord says as if it’s obvious, “Someone with a talent like mine.”

He finishes his drink, and tosses the glass over the railing into the patrons gallery below.

“I could use someone with talents like yours,” he says, and your blood runs cold. You know what overlords mean when they say that. Your eyes dart to the curtain, to the hallway. If you shouted, would Flicker hear you? Wait- What are you thinking? He doesn’t give a rats ass about his girls’ safety. 

You do the only thing you can, you open your mouth to sing.

“Ah ah ah, nope,” he holds up a finger to silence you before you can begin, “That won’t work.”

You close your mouth, open it, close it again. 

“How did you know?”

If he knows, he can tell. If he tells, you lose money. Girls back on the street, you without a plan here.

His scowl turns to a smile, his eyes glowing brighter, circular rimming pulsating within his sclera. A funny tickle passes over you, as if he was blowing on you, gentle and odd. You furrow your brow, and then your jaw drops. You get it now. 

“Oh, Sir!” you play it up, ‘agreeable little whore’ voice as he called it back in full force, “I didn’t realize we were so evenly matched!” 

“I’m glad the smartest girl in this joint is also the prettiest,” he flirts, walking back over to the couch until he’s leaning on the arm of it. 

“How were you thinking of spending the evening mister…?” You stick to script if you trail off, not wanting to ask him outright what he wanted, now that you know what you’re dealing with.

He crackles, static, his glow dimming momentarily.

“Vox, darling. Where are my manners?” he finally introduces himself as he reaches over you for the bottle of champagne in the ice bucket and the other glass. He knows this game too, you realize, as his cologne wafts over you; something rich and woodsy. Attractive and expensive. 

“I’d like to offer my patronage, to your little,” he gestures around with the empty flute before pouring it, “artistic endeavors personally.”

That would be nice. A steady patron would mean steady money, steady numbers and acts, a bigger costume budget. His lap doesn't seem like a bad one to be perched on.

“Thats very generous, Mister Vox,” you say, holding out your glass for him to top it off, “But I can’t help but wonder what you want in return?”

His smile changes, less sharp, more real as he moves the neck of the bottle to your glass. He looks you up and down, scrutinizing every detail. 

“Your voice,” he goes on to explain, “For some important events, some advertising. I can make you a star, darling.”

It dawns on you that he hasn’t even asked your name, but then again you also weren’t going to give a client your real name. The entire idea is attractive, desirable. The patronage of a handsome powerful man, a legitimate name for yourself in the entertainment industry, security.

You reach upward clink your glass against his, urging him to clink yours back.

“You’ll have to win me over with a dance,” you tease him, your lips curling into a downright vicious smile. 

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #vox hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader

[koilarist]

Offically making a rule that I have to finish a page of Former Glory before I get to doodle fun things for you guys or else I'm never gonna get this comic done One page = One Fun Doodle token Either that or I'm going to start setting a timer for a set amount of hours per day I have to spend on it, and however far I get is however far I get.

#I want to draw more barbies again already and it's killing me can you tell #pointing at myself in the mirror like DON'T PLAY YOURSELF #I lost like three months of work time to unfortunate circumstances and it is time for me to get back to it for REAL #and if ANYTHING tries to stop me I will be gripping the grim reaper by the throat #and throwing his bones into a miller to be ground up into DUST #Devotio Newsletter

[vaspider]

Look. A little advice.

Once you get to a certain amount of Known on the internet or a subsection of it, or even in a subsection of a RL group of people, there are going to be people who will make up a version of you which exists only in their heads and which has absolutely nothing to do with who you are. It might better resemble who you were twenty years ago or it might never have had anything to do at all with who you were then or are now.

You cannot stop this. You cannot prevent this. Once you get a certain number of followers or a certain amount of attention, that's going to happen: people will make up stories about you which either look through a fun-house mirror at some small aspect of who you are and twist it and blow it up until it doesn't resemble you at all, or which just have absolutely no basis in fact whatsoever.

This is just another kind of parasocial relationship; it's the kind which really sucks to deal with, because it's so negative and so pervasive. It's very real, and the frustration you feel about it is very real. Nobody wants to be known incorrectly.

But. You can't control this. It's gonna happen. No matter what you say, no matter how precisely you say it, the people who want to misinterpret you will find a way to do so. This doesn't mean 'don't pay attention to what you say,' or 'don't be purposeful and precise with your language,' but it does mean 'don't obsess over the people who are determined to get you wrong.'

You can be the most anodyne, run-of-the-mill, unremarkable human being, and the people who are determined to hate you will find something that they can point to and say 'ha ha! I told you that Spider danced with the devil at midnight! I witnessed it myself!' (It will not help the situation if you are, say, self-admittedly stubborn as fuck, long-winded, and sometimes kinda fucking obnoxious, but please realize that in the end, it doesn't really matter. This is gonna happen no matter what.)

The people who matter will look at what's being said, wrinkle up their foreheads, and say, 'uh, man, it looks like Spider was actually playing with his dog at 9 am?'

That said, if you don't have elephant-thick skin from being a marginalized-gender human being who's been on the internet since before the web had pictures, there are some things you can do to make it easier when people making things up about you starts to get on your nerves:

Establish protocols for when it becomes too much: have someone read your messages, turn off your notifications, have time where you purposefully disengage.

Establish protocols for how you interact, period: "I will block people without guilt if they engage positively with the people who spread untruths about me." "I will answer everything in public so people can't lie about what I said, because it's right there in public." "I will not answer work-related stuff in DMs, that has to go to the work email." Whatever it is, create some boundaries for yourself. Stick to them. The people who push you to bend them aren't doing that for your benefit but theirs.

If you get someone who really hits your Weirdo Alarm, trust it. Yeah, block and report, but also, take screenshots and store them somewhere that isn't easily erased. I have an 'Internet Weirdos' folder, which makes it a little easier to deal with when people start doing things like 'making threats of physical harm to me and my family.' Don't fuss, just take a screenshot and chuck it in the folder. Having that record makes it easier to just forget that it ever happened, because you have a paper trail if anybody starts doing something Real Weird.

Spend time offline, with people who do actually know you.

Don't get lost in the version of you that someone else makes up in order to make up for the shit that's missing in their own life. You aren't required to play the part that someone else is trying to script for you. It is never to your benefit, only to theirs; you gain nothing by standing in that role for them, and you lose precious seconds of your one irreplaceable life.

You could be using those seconds to look at this video of how to pick up a duck, which I think we can all agree is a better investment of your time.

#internet #Youtube

[floralcyanide]

𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 - 𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐞

jonathan crane x f!reader

“I broke apart my insides, I’ve got no soul to sell. The only thing that works for me, help me get away from myself.” “I wanna fuck you like an animal, I wanna feel you from the inside." "You can have my absence of faith, you can have my everything.”

warnings: smut, rough sex, choking, first time, penetrative sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, spitting, spitballing, cum eating, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), face fucking/ deepthroating, nipple play, orgasm denial, porn with some plot, pwp, wow there's a lot here lol

word count: 2316

authors note: if Dr. Jonathan Crane has a million fans, then I'm one of them. if Dr. Jonathan Crane has one fan, then I'm THAT ONE. if Dr. Jonathan Crane has no fans, that means I'm dead. anyway, I love this man and his character so much, so I had to be feral about him. he's so pretty, and for what??? also Closer by NIN is soooo Jonathan-coded. I don't make the rules. (not beta read, we die like men here)

main masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

Six months have passed, and you’ve yet to have any form of sex with your boyfriend, Dr. Jonathan Crane. You get that he’s busy most of the time and doesn’t really hold sex to a high standard like most men do. But god, you wanted him to have your way with you already. Jonathan looks like he was hand sculpted by the gods themselves with his piercing blue eyes, strong jawline, and perfect lips. You’d do anything to have his stunning face between your legs. And you seriously mean anything at this point. Both of you trust each other with your lives. Jonathan has taken a while to open up to you, and the last thing he’s yet to show you about himself is his sexuality. 

For the last week, every time you so much as kiss Jonathan, you get irrevocably turned on. Sometimes he’ll give into you and let his tongue explore your mouth, but then he’ll pull away with a satisfied smirk. It’s almost as if he teases you on purpose. But then again, you doubt Jonathan would do it for this long, purposely depriving you of physical affection. But the things he does, don’t surprise you anymore. He could very well be torturing you without you realizing it. 

Everything changes when you stay at Jonathan’s apartment one night. You take a shower and put on your favorite pair of matching lace underwear and a shirt you stole from Jonathan’s dresser the first time you came over. You have no makeup on, you’ve just finished brushing your teeth for bed, and you haven’t put on any pants as of yet. The hem of the shirt is tucked into your underwear unbeknownst to you. So, when Jonathan walks into his bedroom, he sees you standing in the doorway of the en-suite bathroom with his old white t-shirt inside your bright red underwear. You barely notice his eyes turn three shades darker as you go to rinse your mouth.

Jonathan comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as you’re ducked into the sink, spitting out the remainder of your toothpaste. He presses himself against your ass when it sticks out as you bend over. You don’t pay much attention to Jonathan and him being close to you. He was surprisingly clingy. But when you stand up straight and look at him behind you in the mirror’s reflection, you notice his features are much darker than usual.

“Are you-“ You begin to ask if Jonathan is okay, but before you can finish your sentence, his mouth attaches itself to your neck.

With his hands splayed across your stomach underneath your- his shirt, he pulls your hair away from your shoulder. Jonathan then makes eye contact with you in the mirror as his hands travel up your abdomen to your breasts. He gives them a harsh squeeze as he bites down into the skin between your neck and shoulder. You hiss at the feeling of Jonathan being so close to you, touching you like this. You wonder what’s gotten into him but push that thought aside when his fingertips delve past the lace covering your nipples. You gasp as Jonathan circles one with his index finger, licking up your neck and jaw slowly until he reaches the side of your face.

“You look irresistible,” Jonathan breathes into your ear, nibbling at the lobe.

“And what are you gonna do about it?” you ask, biting your lip in anticipation.

Jonathan picks up and throws you over his shoulder, carrying you over to his bed, where he all but gently throws you onto it. Before you can react, Jonathan is on top of you, ripping your underwear clean off your legs. 

“Let me take care of you, darling,” Jonathan coos, pushing the shirt up and over your head before unclasping your bra next.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” you sigh, tugging at his white button-up that he’s yet to change out of.

“I think I have an idea of how long. Show me how bad you want it,” Jonathan says, moving his hands off of you completely.

The urge to rip the man in front of you apart bubbles up in your lower stomach, and you sit on your knees in front of Jonathan. You rip his shirt open, buttons flying everywhere in the room. You leave open-mouthed kisses on his chest as he slides his fingers through your hair, gripping it harshly as he pulls your head back so you can look at him. You stare at him unwaveringly; your eyes half-lidded with growing lust. After studying the smirk on your face, Jonathan lets go of you, and you immediately go for the button and zipper of his trousers. Unbuckling his belt, you yank it out of the belt loops and toss it on the floor. You pull his pants down his hips far enough for you to get where you want. Pulling Jonathan’s cock out, you marvel at it momentarily before taking his head into your warm mouth. There was no way you’d be able to take all of him without gagging, but you’re going to try anyway. You’ve waited too long for this.

“Fuck,” Jonathan keens as you swivel your tongue around him, gathering his precum.

He realizes he’s definitely waited too long for this.

But he has been nervous about being vulnerable around you. He actually cares about you, believe it or not. And doesn’t want to hurt you- not severely, anyway. Only as much as you’ll let him. 

Before Jonathan can tell you to hurry up and take his cock, you slam your nose into his pelvis, letting his tip hit the back of your throat. He lets out the dirtiest moan you’ve ever heard, sending heat straight to your bare core. You’re impossibly wet, rubbing your thighs together as you bob your head along Jonathan’s length with fervor. You let him thrust into your mouth as you helplessly gag around him, spit dribbling down your chin as tears fall from your eyes. Jonathan face fucks you, and you simply take it, enjoying every second of his perfect cock in your mouth. Your fingernails dig into his hips, causing him to bite his lip as he looks down at you. You peek up at him through your eyelashes, pulling him out of your mouth and flicking your tongue on his head. Suddenly, your face is ripped away from his body.

“Lay back on the bed like a good girl for me,” Jonathan growls, your hair in a vice grip in his hand once again.

You quickly crawl to the pillows, lying down as Jonathan discards the rest of his clothing, completely naked and revealed to you at last. You scan his body, freckles dotting the places his clothing hides. They’re not just dusted along his cheeks but his shoulders too. His back is also covered in constellation-like freckles. Jonathan tries not to notice you studying him, but he can’t help but drink in your appearance too. How your waist and hips make the perfect shape, how your breasts are perked up from your arousal, and how your skin looks in the room's lighting. Jonathan looks perfect to you, and you look flawless to him. 

“Beautiful,” Jonathan sighs, kissing your ankle and up your calf until he meets your thigh.

Your breath hitches as his face lingers at your pussy, right where you need him, but then he goes to your other thigh and sucks a mark into your skin there. You throw your legs over his shoulders, and he tilts his head to the side, looking at you with that sassy yet emotionless look of his. 

“Impatient, are we?” Jonathan asks, hovering his lips right over you as his breath hits the sensitive, wet skin.

“Very,” you drawl, glaring at him playfully, “I’ve waited six months for you to eat me out, you know.”

“I’m aware,” Jonathan says, his eyes carefully taking in your anatomy, “I want to make it well worth it, dear.”

You reach down and rake your fingers through his hair, pushing his head closer to you. Jonathan wordlessly attacks your folds, licking intense stripes up and down your slit. He’ll circle your clit with the tip of his tongue before flicking it back and forth on the bundle of nerves, causing you to entangle your fingers deeper into his hair. Jonathan then takes both hands and spreads you open, flattening his tongue and shaking his head vigorously as he laps at you like a thirsting man. 

“Oh fuck,” you moan, thrusting into his face.

Jonathan sneaks a finger into your entrance, curling it against the spongy spot he finds inside you. He strokes it teasingly to the same rhythm of his tongue against your clit. You clamp your thighs against the sides of Jonathan’s head, essentially trapping him. He slips another finger into you, slamming them in and out of you as the sound of your arousal bounces off the walls.

“That feel good, baby?” Jonathan hums, his mouth pulling away from you despite your thighs, his darkened blue eyes boring into yours.

“Mhmm,” you nod, rocking your hips onto his fingers as he adds a third, stretching you out.

“That’s right, fuck yourself on my fingers,” Jonathan gasps, thrusting them faster and harder into you as his thumb finds your bundle of nerves, pressing into it.

You’re so close that you can already feel the knot in your stomach about to come undone. Your hand finds Jonathan’s cheek, caressing it as his eyes meet yours again. You arch your back close to your peak. But then, Jonathan pulls his fingers from you, tucking them into his mouth as you glare at him. He just chuckles darkly at you before grabbing you by the throat.

“Open your mouth,” he demands.

You obey, Jonathan’s grip on your neck dizzying you. He gathers your slick and his spit in his mouth before spitting it into yours, forcing your mouth closed.

“Now swallow like a good girl,” Jonathan says, holding his hand around your throat once more.

You taste yourself on your tongue, swallowing the spit as you were told. 

Jonathan’s hand travels to your face as his thumb pulls your mouth open so he can thoroughly inspect it, “Perfect.”

He sits up, spreading your legs further open so he can line himself up with your begging entrance. Gathering some of the wetness there, Jonathan pushes himself into you slowly. Your hand flies to his shoulder blades, your nails digging into his pale skin. Finally, Jonathan fills you up completely, his hips flush against yours. You throw your head back at the feeling of fullness, the sting of the stretch turning into pleasure. 

“God, Jonathan,” you move your hips a little, “You feel amazing.”

“You’re so tight it’s almost ridiculous,” Jonathan dryly jokes, his hands finding purchase on your hips as he pulls all the way out, then slams back into you.

“Fuck,” you seethe, and one of Jonathan’s hands find their way back to your throat.

He repeats his motion, pulling his hips back then snapping them forward again, gaining a steady pace. You’re a moaning mess as he quickens his rhythm. Jonathan’s face is leant down to your ear as he grunts into it. The headboard begins to slam into the wall behind you, but neither of you care about the dent it’ll probably leave in the drywall. 

“Jonathan,” you drawl out in a high pitched cry, his cock hitting your cervix just right.

“I shouldn’t have waited so long to destroy you like this,” Jonathan says in between his groans, “I love seeing you fall apart underneath me.”

Your eyes screw shut, rolling into the back of your head as he fucks you hard and fast, sure enough to leave you sore tomorrow. The sound and smell of sex fills the room as sweat beads on your forehead. You’re moving your hips at the same time as Jonathan, matching his quick and harsh thrusts. He’s hitting every spot within you just right, the shaft of his cock rubbing your clit perfectly every time he pushes it into you. You start seeing stars behind your eyes from the pressure his fingers are putting on your throat and the building orgasm in your stomach. 

“God, I wanna cum,” you scream, “Please make me cum,” you’re nearly begging incoherently now.

“Fuck, that’s right, beg me. Show me how long you’ve wanted me to fuck your witty little brains out,” Jonathan says behind gritted teeth, his own orgasm peeking over the horizon.

You start babbling and repeating, “Please,” like a mantra until Jonathan hits a spot within you that causes the stars behind your eyes to explode with white light. You feel yourself gush around him as his thrusts become sloppy, your clenching sending him over the edge. Jonathan spills into you as you both ride out your orgasms, whispering each other’s names weakly.

Jonathan runs a hand over his hair, sitting back as he catches his breath and pulls himself out of you. Your chest heaves as you feel the mixture of your cum and Jonathan’s cum seep from you. 

“That was amazing,” you sigh, melting into the mattress.

Jonathan lays down next to you, pulling you into his chest, “We can clean up later. For now, just rest a moment.”

After a brief moment of silence, you finally ask the begging question.

“Why did you wait so long?”

“I was nervous,” Jonathan confesses, “I haven’t let anyone in, in a long time. And I’ve finally let you in enough for you to experience this part of me.”

“I see,” you say, curling your arms around his that are crossed over your breasts.

“Was the wait worth it?” Jonathan asks, burying his face into your neck.

“I think one more round will make it even.”

taglist:

@baizzhu @aporiasposts @hjmalmed @queenshelby @amanda08319 @naty-1001 @orijanko @raineeace @nela-cutie

#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #jonathan crane smut #cillian murphy x reader smut #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #batman begins #scarecrow #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow smut #scarecrow x reader smut #oppenheimer #oppenheimer 2023 #floralcyanide writes

[tadc-ragatha]

Them Receiving a Drawing of Themselves

TW: breakdowns/shutdowns, gender dysphoria, crying

Type: Headcanons

A/N: "Reader discusses what they and the members used to look like, and decides to draw an artist's interpretation of that description with startling accuracy." As of posting, requests are open. Includes only the main six (who I shall now call the digital six/circus crew). Spoilers. Body-sickness = homesickness for body.

Pomni

I'm going to make this interesting for myself and go with the theory that when she saw herself in the mirror she got a bunch of gender euphoria because she's trans. So, for this, she probably wouldn't even bring up her old appearance on her own unless heavily prompted to. Even then, she's really awkward about it, and everyone probably gets the memo that she's at least insecure about her old looks.

Not you, though. You decided to take it upon yourself to draw her. You paid attention to every detail she said, and compiled it all together to create a drawing/painting of the real-world Pomni. She was...Less than enthusiastic. At first, she's angry, even. But once she realises you didn't know, she just turns to going down a crisis of reality and homesickness instead.

If we don't go with that theory, then she still has a crisis. She'd finally started to push her thoughts of home to the edge of her mind, and now it's brought up to the front again. It's best to just not make art of her.

Ragatha

You probably found out about Ragatha through a breakdown of hers. She'd been holding up the happy-go-lucky, optimistic, cheery persona for so long that it was bound to snap. And so, one day the dam had a leak that turned into a full-on collapse. She was crying and talking about how she missed home and her real body. She was starting to forget what she looked like, and it was driving her to the edge.

In an effort to not have her abstracted, you took it upon yourself to give her something to hold on to. You took mental notes of each thing she said about herself and once everything was safe, you went to your room. Taking out your art equipment, you got to work on trying your best to recreate what she looked like.

In the end, you made a bunch of different ones. Presenting them to her, she was surprised and sad. It fueled her homesickness even more. But she covered it up and accepted it; she knew it was out of love, after all. And after she calmed down she did get to looking at them properly and it did give her some comfort to recognise herself and know that she wouldn't forget herself just yet.

Jax

I feel like Jax cared a lot about his appearance. Really, this is just based on that moment where he checks his non-existent nails, but I digress. Either way, he was probably just complaining like normal when it happened. He didn't really care about what he was saying (on the outside, at least); he was just bored and wanting to talk. But you made it your mission to make him feel better about his "body-sickness".

When he received the gift, he would've tried to play it off real quick. Truth be told, depending on how long you had been in the DC he probably would've made fun of your art. But you could see his initial reaction being one of surprise. Still, he would've tried to twist it and tease you about supposedly having a crush on him or trying to be his friend (a "useless attempt" is what he would say).

He probably tried to just chuck it under his bed when he got to his room. But after a little while the temptation was too much and he grabbed it. Looking it over, it was creepy how on point it was. To be honest, he was half-convinced you had known him outside of the digital world. Either way, he was secretly pretty grateful for it and glad you had had that otherwise useless conversation. But he would never tell you that.

Kinger

Kinger would've just asked what you looked like and that would've led to talking about him. I feel like he's got a sort of dad vibe in the way that he'd make up grand stories about himself. Like, he was a world-famous Broadway star or something. But he'd drop the act and tell you he was just joking. Either way, he ended up telling you about his looks.

When drawing him, you realised just how old he was. Not in a bad way, but you did still feel bad for him. He had lived half a life already before being trapped in the DC, and then he had been there the longest. Who knew what had happened to him; what he had lived through, who he had cared about before all this happened. It made you sad.

Giving him the present, though, he was very grateful and told you such. It had been so long since he had seen anything that looked like him, and to have something so accurate seemed nothing short of a miracle. He was sure to show it off to everyone and soon the whole circus crew was wanting their own.

Gangle

Gangle is an artist herself, and you were likely drawing together when the conversation of drawing each other came up. At first, you just made art of each other's current bodies, but soon you were discussing what you looked like before being trapped in the DC. Thankfully for Gangle, her comedy mask hadn't yet been broken by Jax, so she wasn't too depressed when talking about it.

I bet she put a lot of effort into drawing you. Though, her style isn't realistic, so it looked very anime-ified. Still, the hair and eye colour matched. You put a lot of effort into making art of Gangle, too. Though, you were almost photo-realistic (when you had the time and resources) in your art, so yours turned out much more accurate.

When Gangle saw what she looked like, her comedy mask came right off and she started bawling. She hadn't seen herself in forever, and just couldn't handle it. She was so, so grateful, though, to have the opportunity to see herself again. But she didn't dare tell anyone; she wasn't sure that you'd want everyone bugging you for a picture.

Zooble

Zooble doesn't strike me as someone who'd want to talk about their past. She seems to me like someone who's very in-the-present (well, as in the present as someone who's been thrown into a digital world can be). You'd have to really be friends with her and encourage him to talk about what they looked like.

Still, when he does, she goes into some detail. You listen like a bat to every word they say. And once you leave, you rush straight to your room to start on the project. It's a bit weird imagining Zooble as a living, breathing person in the past instead of an abstract collection of living shapes, but it's also humbling to be reminded you weren't the only person to really lose your body.

Receiving the completed project, Zooble is pretty calm about it. Something along the lines of "oh, wow, you didn't have to do that" is what they'd say. But she takes it from you anyway and is sure to keep it in a safe and secure spot where Jax won't be able to ruin it. And oh boy, if he does, they will be after him.

#amy's writing #not requested #the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc x reader #tadc spoilers #the amazing digital circus spoilers #x reader #tadc headcanon #tadc pomni #tadc ragatha #tadc jax #tadc kinger #tadc gangle #tadc zooble #breakdown tw #dysphoria tw #crying tw

[gentlenotes-moved]

hi. does talking to your friends feel like a chore? does expressing affection to your loved ones scare the shit out of you? does the mere reality that people love you and want to be connected to you feel like a burden? you just might feel like you're putting on a performance! i mean, it's not like you really know who you are, right? after all, you're only doing what you've always known: hoping to find yourself through the reflection of others; hoping to gain love through convenience.

this act you play, it's tiring, isn't it? performing by the script that you've learned—well, the script you think will work. it's not like anything written is very original; everything written is stroked with the dark ink of your past, and penned by what other people seem to think is okay. you haven't really written anything yourself. whenever you do, it just feels like something goes wrong, perhaps you've hurt many people by trying to do so (including yourself).

so you play by this heavily edited script, and works! they like you, and you really like them. okay, so... now what? the script has ended; the play is over. alright, so know you think, well, they don't like me. they only like this script, this script i haven't even put myself into. this script only really contains the shards of other people, and is glued together with my faults and fears.

at this point, it feels like you're only reflecting whatever energy they're giving out to you. if they say they love you, you say it back. if they love the feeling of the autumn wind and the color brown, it's everything to you. they fill the husk of you with all of themselves to the point where you overflow. hey—hey. do you know who you are anymore?

your heart of gold is surrounded by many mirrors; you might have placed them there yourself, or maybe not. but you get to a point where this act and this echoing becomes exhausting. it's all you do, and it's really all you've ever known. it's not really others that feel like a burden, but yourself. you take your mirror and reflect, reflect, reflect. you try to turn it on yourself; you see nothing but your shadow, placed right behind where you should be.

look at me. i'm holding your hands and looking into your exhausted, yearning eyes. this hatred you feel for yourself, this rage... this feeling isn't shared by your friends or loved ones. i don't know how long you haven't known yourself, and i know you feel like you should want and need and love and hate certain things. these "shoulds" came from a place of abusive and trauma, and if it didn't come from other people, it probably came from yourself. so, please be gentle on yourself.

one day the brick walls you guard yourself with and the mirrors you use to reflect, they won't cause you harm anymore. it won't all go away all at once, but with time, you'll find yourself. it all won't feel so difficult, and things won't feel so scary. i love you, alright?

#mine #personal #reminders #gentle reminders #self care #healing #positivity #mental health #self love #self healing #self help #self improvement #encouragement #motivation #spilled thoughts #spilled words #spilled writing #sorry for the essay. i'm feeling emotional and poetic and frankly quite angry. #you know what? fuck it #poetry

[farfromstrange]

Unicorns Need Love Too | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Your hormones make existing a living hell sometimes. Thankfully, Matt is there to help

Warnings: Fluff, self-indulgent, suggestive language, heavy allusions to smut (MINORS DNI), attempt at humor, not proof-read

Word Count: 2k

A/n: This is a brain fart because I, myself, have a pimple in the middle of my forehead and I feel like a fucking unicorn. I don't even know if it's any good. Just have at it & enjoy!

The few weeks leading up to your period are always the most chaotic and the most draining, but over the years, you have gotten used to only having a few days out of four weeks every month where you feel somewhat normal.

The days between ovulation and the actual start of a new period are probably the worst though—together with the week of hell that follows, of course.

Matt loves it when you ovulate. Your boyfriend’s heightened senses make it possible for him to smell the change in your pheromones, and they drive him borderline insane. It doesn’t help that you always seem to need him more than air when you’re in that fertile window of your cycle, and even though you’re not interested in having a family, he always has to fill you to the brim until you’re overflowing with his cum. Alone the thought of that makes his cock painfully hard.

Unfortunately, though, your body’s desperate need for pleasure isn’t the only side of you that comes out during that week. Every month, Matt discovers something new about you. Every month, he finds something new to love, and he finds strange quirks of yours that may seem odd to him at first, but he still adores them as much as he adores the rest of you.

 “Why does it smell like a chemical plant here?” He pokes his head into the bathroom, his chiseled body dressed in the red leather of his Daredevil suit, minus the cowl and his gloves. 

You turn to him from the sink. Your eyes roam over his body before they land on his face, meeting his unfocused gaze. “It’s my skincare,” you answer.

What did he think you were doing? Building a chemical weapon? Cooking meth? He would have been able to smell that much more clearly than your skincare products.

“What are you using?” Matt asks, leaning against the doorframe in all his glory as he slides those beautifully thick fingers of his into his leather gloves.

Your eyebrow quips. “Salicylic acid. Why?”

The way he looks at you, forehead slightly wrinkled as he frowns, reminds you of a concerned parent when their child has found a sharp object to play with. 

“That smells dangerous.”

You shrug, continuing to rub the solution into your skin. “It pulls the gunk out of my pores.”

“And that works?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” he says. His expression remains wary. “Just don’t inhale it.” 

“Matt, this isn’t the first time I’ve used it. I’ve had acne since I was a teenager,” you remind him.

A small smile plays on his lips, mirroring yours. “I know. Just want you to be careful, that's all.”

You put the tube down, turning your whole body to him. “I have never heard of death by skincare,” you say, “but I’ll be careful. Promise.”

The answer, albeit a bit sarcastic, satisfies him. Matt fastens his gloves with a happy little nod. “Thank you. I’ll, uh, be back in a few hours,” he says, coming over to press a kiss to the top of your head, his hand cradling the back of it. “Don’t wait up. You’re drained.”

You open your mouth to protest, “I can wait for you.”

“Not at this point of your cycle. You’re going to be cranky tomorrow.”

You’re aware that Matt knows your body inside and out. He knows you better than you could ever know yourself. He can sense things that even you can’t pick up on. At first, it was something you had to get used to, but you have grown accustomed to his heightened senses and the perks they bring with them. 

Tipping your chin in his direction, you retort, “I’m not sure if I should take offense to that.”

“Don’t,” Matt says nonchalantly. “If I had an organ lose its shit every month because it wants to be fertilized, putting you through the works to prepare you for it, and then cause me to bleed and cramp uncontrollably for a week straight as revenge when I refuse to let a myriad of sperm play tag you’re it inside me, I’d get cranky too.”

That description sounds almost too perfect. You lean forward to capture his plump lips in another passionate kiss. “Fair point. Be safe, please.”

“Always.”

“That’s a lie,” you say. 

“I promise, I’ll be safe.”

“That’s better.”

He strokes his thumb over your cheekbone. “Love you,” he says, and he kisses you one last time.

Whenever he goes out at night, Matt kisses you as if you are never going to see him again. It’s a possibility you have often cried over. You’ve obsessed over everything that could go wrong. 

He has had way too many close calls for you to take anything he does for granted, and when he kisses you like that, like he is afraid of losing you as well, you at least know that he will try his everything to make it back to you in one piece—even if it’s a mangled piece. 

“I love you too,” you murmur. 

That’s another thing about his kisses: they have the ability to render you speechless.

A slight gust of wind brushes through your hair when the door to the rooftop exit opens, and when you open your eyes, Matt is gone. The living room is lulled in darkness. 10:13 pm. You start counting down the hours, praying once again to all Gods above that he will be okay tonight.

• • •

When Matt comes home a few hours later, he finds you passed out on your shared bed, your limbs tangled in the silk sheets that smell of him and you, and even more you.

He isn’t injured, more ramped up with adrenaline than anything, but he doesn’t want to disturb your peaceful slumber, so he settles down on the couch instead. It doesn’t take long for the night to crash into him, and he collapses. He doesn’t even have it in him to make it back to bed.

You wake up in a cold sweat when your alarm goes off the next morning, but the open bedroom door and Matt’s snoring figure on the couch tell you that he is alive and well. That’s a good sign. If he’s asleep and not injured, you have nothing to worry about. 

That is what you think until you see your reflection in the bathroom mirror. 

Matt wakes to the sound of a loud groan. Suddenly awake and alert, he takes a look around the apartment. Nothing is out of place, except—you’re missing. 

He gets up and knocks on the bathroom door. It’s locked. “Sweetheart,” he calls out softly. “You okay in there? Can you open the door?”

“No,” you reply. Your voice is slightly muffled through the wood, but he can still hear your labored breathing and your elevated heartbeat loud and clear.

“Why not?” he asks.

“Because I look hideous.”

His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “I don’t know if you‘ve heard, but I’m blind.”

You groan again, more defeated this time. You seem to plop down on the edge of the bathtub. “Oh, shut up!” you snap. “This is as much a visual as it is a textural issue.”

“As in what? You’ve grown fur and a tail overnight?” Matt can’t help but muse a little. “Because even if you turned into a wolf or a worm, I would still love you. You know that.”

“Matt, this isn’t funny. My acne is escalating.”

Now you sound sad, and he starts feeling bad. 

He touches his palm against the door. “But you used those acids last night,” his words land much softer. “I thought they were supposed to help with your acne.”

“Apparently fucking not ‘cause my fertile window is pretty much still wide open, and I think I felt myself ovulate this morning.”

“Oh. Well, it’s just some pimples, sweetheart. It’s not the end of the world.”

Matt realizes too late that he may have chosen his words poorly. You take a deep breath, and for a moment he believes you’re just going to say, but then you shout at him, “EASY OF YOU TO SAY, MISTER I-ALWAYS-HAVE-FLAWLESS-SKIN!”

He winces, dropping his forehead next to his palm. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. What can I do?” he asks. “Get you a paper bag?”

You must have smoke coming out of your ears by now. “Matthew Michael Murdock, I swear to God–”

“I’m so sorry, sweetie. I’m just trying to cheer you up.” He knocks again. “Can you please let me in? I want to hug you. You sound sad.”

A pregnant pause follows. The silence settles deep into his bones. He can still hear your heartbeat, but he can’t judge what you’re thinking. Then, he hears your bare feet pat against the floor. The lock clicks, and you finally open the door. 

“I look like the last fucking unicorn, Matt,” you say. “I’m an endangered species.”

Matt’s arms find your waist, and he pulls you against him. You don’t protest. “You don’t feel like a unicorn. You don’t even have the body of a horse.”

The beginning of a smile that was growing on your face vanishes within seconds, and you stare up at him. He can feel your gaze burning through his skull, a look of utter astonishment on your face. That is how he imagines you, anyway. 

“Just a pimple on your forehead,” he adds because he realizes his words are failing to get his point across in all possible ways.

You bury your face in his chest. “Oh, fuck off!”

“What? Pimples are natural and nothing to be ashamed of, especially not when your body is full of hormones that are making your day a living hell.”

“I feel ashamed because I look like a very fucking ugly unicorn!”

“You’re not ugly,” he insists, patiently so, knowing that this is just another side of you that comes out when you’re overwhelmed by the sheer force of your hormonal cycle. “If anything,” Matt says, “you’re a cute unicorn.”

“No,” you shake your head. “I’m a pissed-off unicorn who’s ovulating, which makes her sad and horny with a fucking stuffed and inflamed pore on her freaking forehead!”

“I can do something about the horniness, but I can’t make the pimple go away. I’m sorry.”

“UGH!” For a moment, he thinks you’re going to hit his chest with your balled fist, but instead, you tangle your fingers in his shirt.

He rubs his large hand along your spine. “Come here.” Almost naturally, his nose buries itself in your hair. “Do you have those patch thingies you always use when you break out?” he asks. 

“I ran out,” you say. 

“Should I get them for you on my way home from work?”

“You’d do that?”

“Of course,” he says.

Your smile is unmistakable. “I want the heart-shaped ones.”

“Because they make you feel cute?”

“Yeah.”

Matt chuckles anew. “Okay. I’ll get you those.”

“Thank you.” Sniff.

He tilts his head to the side. “Did you just sniff me?” he asks. 

“Mhm,” you shamelessly admit as you suck in a breath again, inhaling his distinctive scent. “You smell good.”

“I didn’t even shower last night. I passed out on the couch.”

“Oh God, that makes it worse!” You shove him away. “I’m getting turned on by the smell of your sweat.”

His giggles turn into laughter. “How about I shower first and then you can sniff me again?” Matt opens his arms as if he just made an offer you couldn’t possibly refuse. 

But you can. Because Matt showering and washing the scent of danger off his beautiful skin is the last thing you want, and if your body is satisfied, maybe the storm in your mind will finally calm down, too. 

You stop him. “No. Don’t shower.”

“No?” He raises an eyebrow.

“No,” you say. “You said you can help me with my horniness, right? That was part of the deal?”

The brown of his irises gets overtaken by the black of his pupils. “I did say that, didn’t I?” 

“Uh-huh. So, no shower. And I could really use a hand. Or two. And quite possibly your cock, too.”

Matt smirks. “Anything you want, sweetheart,” he purrs. “I’m all yours.”

You’re about to kiss him when you realize, “The unicorn pimple–”

“Don’t care. I've heard somewhere that unicorns need love too.” He cradles your face in his hands. “And I intend to do that shamelessly for the next hour and a half.”

The bathroom door falls closed behind the two of you as he uses his strength to guide you back inside, and a kiss is all it takes for you to shut up and surrender yourself to him completely.

Unicorn pimple be damned!

Tag List: @littlenerdyravenclaw @yarrystyleeza @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @thatonegamefish @norestfortheshelbywicked @mattkinsella @itwasthereaminuteago @linamarr @gpenguin666 @acharliecoxedfan

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock smut #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x f!reader #crack fic #daredevil #self indulgent #no y/n #charlie cox

[itsclydebitches]

Though I adore the dynamic myself, it struck me as odd a few months back that fans were taking a "Monster loved for the first time" approach to Astarion. Part of the allure of a vampire (for me anyway) is the act of transformation; the horror and tragedy of having lost who you were before—including all those everyday, human experiences. There were debates about precisely how old Astarion was when he died and at the same time fans were screaming over him having his first hug, his first real romance, this is the first time someone has helped him without ulterior motives, etc. and I'm going, "How is that possible?" This is an elf who lived a life before being turned, even if it was short compared to what his race would normally experience. Astarion had a family. He had a job! Yet the fandom (and to an extent the game as well) treats Astarion as more of a Phantom-esque character: deemed monstrous from birth and blindsided by the simplest acts of love because he was denied them from the get-go.

Of course, it's easy enough to read everything through the lens of slavery and torture. Sure, Astarion had all this at one point but it's been so long and his life as a vampire has been so unimaginably torturous that it's eclipsed those earlier experiences. I get that... but time as the answer still didn't fully convince me.

Not until I started romancing him and hit this line:

"I... I don't know. I can't remember."

This is in response to asking Astarion what color his eyes were before they turned red. Can we just sit with that for a moment? He doesn't remember the color of his eyes. This line was a game changer for me because I can't even CONCEPTUALIZE that. Mirrors appear to be pretty common in Faerûn—it's not like this is a setting devoid of all modern inventions and Astarion, as a member of the upper class, absolutely would have had access to various ornate mirrors like the one he starts this scene with—so what does it take to make you completely forget such an ingrained bit of knowledge about yourself? 200 years as a dehumanized slave, obviously. Still, my mind continues to trip over the idea. I have blue eyes. That's a fact I've known since I had any real sense of self. If my eyes were to suddenly change tomorrow I can't imagine forgetting that they were originally blue. Even if I'd put it from my mind for an extended period of time I'd expect the very pointed question, "What color were they before?" would fire some old synapses and drag the information back. Obviously none of us have any idea what 200 years would do to a human brain (or, you know, an elf's) but it still feels firmly in the real of impossibility that I could ever completely forget something like that.

Yet Astarion has and this line more than anything else has sold me on his Baby Monster Loved For The First Time characterization, both in-game and in the fandom. He acts like he's never been hugged before? Of course he does! The guy can't remember his eye color and you think he's going to recall any probably-treated-as-casual-and-thus-didn't-solidify-as-significant-memories hugs while alive? When was the last time you were hugged? I'm not sure. I know I HAVE hugged recently but was the last one with family over Thanksgiving? Did I give my friend a brief side-hug before we parted? I'm lucky in that hugs are such a normalized part of my life that I don't give them much thought... which means that if you were to suddenly enslave me and keep me isolated for 200 years, yeah, I'd probably forget what they feel like too. Or that I ever had any at all.

(Self-hatred is going to play hell with memory too. Once you feel like you don't deserve something and it's continually denied to you it's easier to convince yourself you never had it to begin with.)

So yeah, Astarion acts like someone who was always the monster because he has, on a literal canonical level, forgotten what it was like to be anything else. Which just sets his relationship with Tav into such angsty, terrifying focus. Here's someone who has lost his previous identity. He (rightfully) despises the identity Cazador forced on him. Even if he didn't, Astarion is now miles away, the tattered remains of his self threatened by ceremorphosis. He stares into a mirror knowing he'll never see anything, but doing it anyway because he needs to figure out who he is—and that's precisely where most of us would start. What do I look like? What do others see when they see me? Is that the person I want to be?

Then Tav offers to be his mirror, just like they offered to sketch out the poem on his back. How exquisitely horrible for Astarion. He's being given precisely what he wants but he's in NO position to take it. All his sense of self placed in the hands of another? Asking, "Who am I?" and hearing, "I'll tell you. I'll be the keeper of that knowledge"? That's a far more intimate, potentially destructive power than anything else Astarion is looking to get his hands on AND he's trying to manipulate YOU at this point in the story! It just makes me crazy because Astarion is desperate to figure out who he is, but circumstances have ensured that, at this point in time, he needs to put his trust in someone else to begin answering that question... and the one thing he does know about himself is that he's a manipulative, mistrustful rogue who's only out to keep himself safe. Allowing someone else to take the reins with his identity (again) is probably the least safe thing he could possibly think of.

It's this messy tragic loop that yes, Astarion is working to break by the end of the game (depending on your choices) but in Act 1? Goddamn. No wonder he's trying desperately to maintain control of this relationship. No wonder—despite his best efforts—he's still undone by the simplest acts of kindness.

#BG3 #Astarion #mymetas

[royaltozaki]

could you love me while i hate myself?

synopsis: y/n, nayeon, momo, and sana are in a polyamorous relationship. momo walks in on y/n self-harming for the first time in 7 months. they all try and talk and work through this together.

warnings: we got depression, suicidal ideation, self-harm (cutting), blood, sexual references, cursing - also this is poly!namosa if ur not into that but i love getting comfort from everyone i love so

w/c: 6.9k

a/n: sooo i wrote this in a day bcs im utilising my #depression as inspiration and lwk we love writing as a coping mechanism - i’m so fine tho i just need my meds to start working again LMAO and they will vvvv soon trust - but in the meantime i can pump out the sad stuff hehe! lwk forgot abt boo and dobby until like halfway thru writing this IM SO SORRY #fakefan and i wasn't bothered to write them back in so they js don't exist here oops!

⸸

fuck. fuck fuck fuck. the thoughts were coming. you wake up hazily, dream forgotten, arms wrapped around nayeon, legs entangled with the three people you loved most in the world. you don't deserve them. shut up!

you shut your eyes, trying to will away the thoughts. they were always there, always in the back of your head, always nagging, telling you that you didn't deserve to live, that you were a worthless piece of flesh born only to cause others suffering, or born with no purpose at all. there's no point to it all. just die. they'd be better off without you. they'd be happier without you.

you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes. it was so loud. you needed them to be quiet. to return to the depths of your mind. you curl in closer to nayeon, trying to breathe in the scent of her to distract you, feeling sana's breath on your hand, listening to momo's soft snores, they were the only thing grounding you. they pity you. that's why they've stuck around for so long. they know if they left you you'd break. they don't love you. it's pity. they'd be happier together. just the three of them. they didn't need you. you needed them. you were a burden to them. you need to leave so they can be happy. you want the best for them don't you? SHUT UP.

you couldn't take it anymore, you slowly unwrap yourself from your girlfriends. slipping your arms from around nayeon's waist and pulling your legs away from the mess of limbs. you look back at them, sleeping peacefully, watch their chests rise up and down with each breath, it's bittersweet. you had so much love for them. you turn around again and slip out the door, closing it softly behind you.

you pad softly towards the bathroom, entering it quietly and sighing, looking at yourself in the mirror. dark circles under red eyes, messy hair, disgusting. look at you. how could anyone love you? the thoughts were louder in the bathroom. almost echoing off crisp white walls. your grip on the sink tightens, you tear your gaze away from the mirror, letting your tears fall into the sink silently. why did i have be born like this? born like this? honey you're not different. everyone else is able to cope fine with trauma, with all the shit that happens in the world. you're just weak. weak, crying little bitch who can't deal with a couple sad emotions. don't think you're special. you're not. why can't i feel normal? you're not normal. you never will be. you'll always be that weird kid on the playground that no one wants to play with. grow up and get used to it already. why won't you leave me alone? i can't leave you alone. i am you. you are me. we're stuck together.

your head's splitting, you don't even realise you're crouched in on yourself now. hands gripping your head, nails digging into your scalp, anything to try and stop thinking. you wish you could just go back to sleep. sleep was easy. you didn't have to think when you were asleep.

that's right. sleep. sleep forever. run away from your problems. that's all you'll ever be good at right? running away. you ran away from your parents when they found out you were dating not one, not two, but three girls! whore! you left your brother and sister with them. they probably got the brunt of their anger. or maybe not. maybe they hate you too for being a fucking disappointment. it doesn't matter. they don't care about you. you left them. now leave your girlfriends. it'll be easier. leave. leave. run. do it.

your lip is trapped between your teeth. you're biting down so hard it draws blood. you're rocking yourself on the floor of the bathroom. pathetic. all you do is cry. grow up already. you can't take it. it was too much. you needed- needed-

you're reaching for the loose tile you know is second from the towel rack, opening it and finding your stash of emergency goods. you had meant to throw it away you just kept avoiding it and now... well you needed it now.

you take out a scalpel, go into the old routine of cleaning it down with an alcohol wipe, the motions that are familiar to you helping you drown out the thoughts already. they're still there though. they were always there. you'd be lonely without us wouldn't you? you actually enjoy being mentally ill don't you? take some sort of sick pleasure in it? is it comforting? it's easy to fall back into old habits isn't it?

once it's clean, you can see clearly again. you remove your pants, spreading your legs and look down at the scars that decorate the insides of your thighs. you take a breath, clearing your head as best you can, and bring the tip of the scalpel to start a new line.

the immediate relief when the blade enters your skin and you watch the scarlet liquid pour out of you is incredible. you're like an addict, drinking in the pain and using it to clear your mind. suddenly, the only sound you hear is the quiet of the bathroom and your own shallow breathing. you've never felt more at peace.

but it's only temporary. like everything is only temporary. seriously? this again? is this the best you can do to try and get rid of me? we talked about this you idiot. you're never getting rid of me. because we're the same. you just made yourself even uglier. congrats. good luck getting your girlfriends to ever touch you again after they see those.

fucking hell. you can't help it when your hands move to the start again, just under the new line you've created. you're about to push in again when you hear a gasp.

you look up in alarm, bloody scalpel in your hand, fresh cut on your thigh.

"m-momo."

"y/n- what-"

"it's not what it looks like i swear- fuck- oh my god- mo- please-" you're scrambling, trying to pull up your pants and cover yourself, dropping the scalpel onto the floor with a clang.

she's on you in seconds.

"no no sweetie it's okay i'm not- it's okay it's okay-" she's pulling you into a hug, and you start sobbing.

you're burrowing your head into her neck, sniffling and crying, she wasn't meant to find out. they were never meant to find out. now you've done it. good luck keeping them now. no way they're going to stay with you after this. better breathe her in while you can because she won't be yours in the morning.

you're squeezing her tight, crying and blabbering into her and she lets you. hushing and brushing through your hair, pressing light kisses along your forehead.

when she starts to pull away you panic, shaking your head against her, terrified she's leaving you and this is it.

"no sweetie i'm not going anywhere. i promise. we just gotta clean you up okay?"

she pulls away from you gently, opening the cabinets next to the sink to grab the first aid kit and comes down to sit next to you.

you're sobs have ceded but you can't bear to look at her, staring down at the ugly scars on your legs.

"can i?" momo makes a gesture towards your legs and you shrug, moving closer to her so she can work.

she's quiet when she cleans the wound, focused.

you idiot you stupid fucking idiot. she hates you she thinks you're so gross and-

"do the others know?"

you don't trust your voice to speak so you shake your head.

"is this why you never let us touch you?"

you blush bright red, gripping the bottom of your shirt.

"you know we wouldn't have judged right?"

the tears are coming back, you feel them building up in your neck again, clogging it up, choking you.

"i'm sorry if we made you feel like we would have." momo's voice breaks then, and you look up. momo wasn't one to cry. sana tended to be the more emotional one, nayeon and momo cried too, just less often and definitely more private, momo just took a little longer to come to conclusions sometimes.

"y-you didn't." your voice is croaky when you speak up.

she sniffles a little, finishing cleaning and grabbing the bandages.

"a-are you mad?"

she sighs. "not mad. just... confused."

"i-i- i'm sorry. i'm sorry i didn't tell you guys i didn't- i thought you would think- i thought you might leave or think i'm too much or i don't know i-"

she finishes wrapping the bandage around your thighs, looking up at you then, her eyes shiny. "i could never leave you y/n. i love you. all of you. you, nayeon, and sana are my family."

you're crying again now, hands coming up to wipe at your tears. she gently helps you put your pants back on then pulls you into another hug, breathing shakily as she lets herself cry as well.

you cling onto her shirt, the confirmation that she was still here and she still loved you grounded you.

you both sit on the bathroom floor there, tightly wound around each other. you memorise the way her breathing comes in and out, focusing on the little hiccups, every single movement. it was quiet.

she pulls away from you, hands coming up to cup your cheeks, thumbs swiping along them. "do you want to talk about it?"

you shake your head.

"do you want to come back to bed then?"

you think a little, "i might sleep in the guest room tonight. i don't really... it's not that i don't want to sleep with you guys, i just-"

"is it okay if i join you in the guest room then?"

you look surprised, "why?"

"it's okay if you don't want me to. i just want to be with you if that's okay. to make sure you're safe for one, but also just because..." she sniffs, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear gently, "i love you and i want to make sure you sleep well."

the tears well up again. "of course. it's not you i just- i don't want sana and nayeon to find out like this."

momo nods, pressing a gentle kiss onto your nose, "i understand. do you want anything before bed? water? a snack?"

you smile tiredly against her, still in a sort of disbelief she was still here. "i'm okay. let's go to bed."

momo nods again, standing up and pulling you with her, but she stops again suddenly, looking down, "does it hurt?"

you wince, "not really. i mean the point is kinda for it to hurt." your eyes widen when momo frowns, "but it doesn't! not anymore i mean. i kinda got used to it." her frown deepens, "i mean no not like that! like- well yes- but-"

"it's okay y/n. i want to know these things. if you're okay with sharing them." she's sincere when she looks at you, and then she's pulling you along towards the guest room. your heart drops a little when you pass by the master bedroom, thinking of nayeon and sana sleeping peacefully inside, wrapped around each other blissfully unaware, but momo squeezes your hand and you look back towards her, following her into the guest room.

she turns on the lamp light and starts removing all the extra pillows and everything that were only really there for decoration. once she's done, she starts ushering you into bed and you laugh a little at her earnestness, "you don't have to treat me any different momo. i'm still the same person."

she frowns, climbing into bed after you, "i just found out about a massive part of your life that you've been hiding from us. you're not the same person to me. not when i've only known half of you."

you still at that, unable to look her in the eye as she fumbles around with the blanket, covering both of you and then sliding an arm over your side.

"i'm sorry." you whisper once she's turned off the light and snuggled in close to you.

she takes a breath, "you don’t have to be sorry. i'm here now. i'm sorry it took me so long. but i'm here now. and i'm not leaving."

"even if i'm not the same person to you anymore?"

she finds your eyes in the darkness, "y/n i didn't mean it like that. i fell in love with half of you. i just found out there's another half that i can also love now. you're the same person, you just have more to you than we knew. and i want to know more about that so i can be a better girlfriend for you."

"you already are a great girlfriend."

she sighs, a hand trailing down your back, drawing random shapes, you curl in closer to her.

"i wanted to throw it all away. i wanted to tell you all. i just-"

she hums, letting you think out your words, continuing to trace patterns into your back, eyes locked on yours.

"it was hard. and i didn't think i'd need to say anything because i was doing good. i hadn't done it in so long. i don't know why today i just- i lost control again."

"y'know nayeon would say just because you haven't done it in so long doesn't mean you were better. it just means you stopped thinking about it but that didn't get rid of the problem. which is why eventually the problem came back."

you smile at her, poking her cheek, "you've been hanging out too much with nayeon."

momo whines, "we're girlfriends! of course i hang out with her!"

"you're right though. i'm sorry. i stopped cutting when we all started dating. i think i got swept up in all the excitement and the love but once the novelty wore off and i grew more comfortable with being in a relationship with all of you, some of the bad thoughts started to come back."

"what sort of bad thoughts?"

"...like that i'm not good enough for you- or that the three of you would be happier without me, or that i don't want to... that i didn’t deserve to live or that it’d be better if i wasn’t- y’know… alive-"

you can see the shine in momo's eyes and feel your own start to well up again while you talk. she lets you speak though, just lays there, stroking your back softly while listening to you.

when you're finished its quiet save for the occasional sniffle from either of you.

"do you still think that? that you're not good enough for us?"

you hum contemplating whether to be honest or to try not to hurt her, you decide you’ve hurt her enough and it was time to be honest, she was still here after all, she wasn’t going to leave you, "...yeah."

she's pressing her lips gently against yours, barely there, almost as if she's asking permission, and you press against her softly back to say yes. you can taste the salt of her tears in the kiss, its short, reassuring. you break away with a tender smile.

"i can't speak for the others. but i don't think we could work if we weren't the four of us. you know that sana and i tried to date when we were younger right? and it didn't work out? because we always felt like there was something missing. but once we all got together, it feels right to love each other like this. i think it'd be the same if you left. i think it'd feel like something was missing and i wouldn't be able to stay either. i'm not saying that to pressure you into staying like a 'if you leave i leave' kinda thing. i'm just saying that you are needed in this relationship and i don't think we would be happier without you, i don't even think we'd work without you, without any one of us."

god you didn't deserve her. you loved her so much.

"and the other stuff... we don't have to talk about that now but... if you're open to it in the future, i want to help you find some outside help if that's okay? you don't have to answer me now, just think about it, because i want to help, but i don't think we can do this alone."

you nod, lips quivering while she smiles at you, noses touching.

"thank you momo."

"of course sweetie. i love you."

"i love you too. so much."

she pecks you again, then places your hand over her chest, and you can feel the calm thumps of her heart.

she closes her eyes, lips only centimetres apart, you follow her lead, focusing on the feeling of her heartbeat rather than the thoughts, letting that fill your head, and slowly, you drift back into sleep.

⸸

you wake up with a dull sting on the inside of your thighs. you curse internally when you realise that it was because you had self-harmed for the first time in months. but then you feel a familiar hand tracing lines down your back, and the smell of soft peaches and you recall that momo had found you cutting yourself. but the way she's tracing your back means she's still here and she hasn't left and that you're still okay.

momo realises you're awake, moving her hand to your hair and brushing the pieces that have fallen over your face. "hi sweetie."

"mm morning. what time is it?"

she giggles a little, "its 5pm actually. i didn't want to wake you. nayeon and sana should be back home soon."

you startle, "what?! 5pm?! where did they go? did they-"

"shh shh no it's okay. i woke up early and made everyone breakfast. when they came in they asked where you were. i told them you slept in the guest bedroom because you weren't feeling well. they wanted to see you but i told them to let you rest. i don't think you should hide this from them for much longer though y/n."

you sigh, relaxing back into her embrace, "i know. i'll tell them when they get back." you can feel the anxiety beginning to chip away at you as soon as the words leave your mouth. you'd thought about it before in the past, about how they'd react. on the worst end of the spectrum, they'd leave you, thankfully momo hasn't done that yet. and realistically you don't think nayeon and sana will either. but there was always that fear in the back of your head. it was more likely that sana would feel hurt and start crying and nayeon would get angry that you didn't trust them with the information. both of which you didn't really want to deal with because you didn't want to cause any of them any negative emotions. but if you didn't tell them, it would mean forcing momo to keep a secret for you and have her constantly go around on tip-toes while worrying over you. it wouldn't be fair and you’d essentially be self-sabotaging your own relationship.

momo breaks you out of your thoughts when she uses her hand to rap lightly against your forehead, "what's going on in there sweetie?"

you shake her off giggling and she smiles, "nothing i'm just thinking about how to tell them is all."

"do you want me to be there?"

you look up at her, her eyes are sincere and caring, you could stare into them for the rest of your life, "yes please, if that's okay with you."

momo squeezes you against her even tighter, planting a kiss on your forehead and murmuring against it, "of course it's okay with me. i'd love to be there."

you smile against her, reminded of your eternal gratefulness and love you have for her, before your stomach starts to growl and you pull away embarrassed while momo starts to laugh that adorable, contagious laugh of hers.

you whine, climbing out of bed as she toddles along behind you, still laughing when you enter the bathroom.

you pick up your toothbrush and start to brush your teeth when you notice that the bathroom's been cleaned up since last night. there's no more blood on the floor and you look briefly over at momo who's standing on that tile looking at you carefully, the hint of a laugh still on her face.

"youscdonthaftawatchmeyknow."

she giggles when some toothpaste dribbles out of your mouth, tilting her head indicating she didn't catch what you said.

you spit out the toothpaste and repeat yourself, "you don't have to watch me y'know."

"i know."

you squeeze some of your facial wash into your hand, staring at her in the mirror when she doesn't move, still looking at your reflection with a gentle smile.

you shrug, closing your eyes and beginning to wash your face. you go through all the motions of your morning routine, and when you finish up and turn around to wipe your hands on the hand towel, she's still standing there watching you.

you clear your throat, leaving the bathroom and moving towards the kitchen. you hear her footsteps padding along behind you.

she overtakes you once you reach the kitchen, going towards the fridge and pulling out a few things. you sit at the kitchen benchtop and watch her reheat a few dishes that she must have made for breakfast and lunch.

"where did nayeon and sana go?"

"to the shops. we were meant to go check out that new bakery together in the city but i figured may as well let you rest, we can go another day."

"oh crap i'm so sorry i forgot! i would've woken up i'm so sorry-"

"it's okay sweetie don't worry. they were both fine to reschedule, they were more concerned about you than missing out on the bakery."

"why didn't you go out shopping with them?"

"i wanted to stay home with you."

"i was asleep."

momo hums, taking the food out of the microwave, "i didn't mind. here." she sets a bowl of sundubu jjigae in front of you and then goes to scoop out a bowl of rice from the rice cooker as well. you spent a lot of the last 24 hours crying but you can't help the tears that well up in you again at the smell. this was one of the first dishes momo made for the four of you when you moved in together.

"do you want me to feed you?" momo's joking as she slides the bowl of rice over, but when you look up at her and she realises you're crying she quickly panics, "i mean i can! if you want!" she's frantically rummaging for a spoon and scooping out some rice and stew and holding it out to you.

you laugh, wiping at your eyes with your sleeve, adoring the way she tilts her head like a confused puppy in bewilderment, a small pout appearing on her lips.

you lean up and take the spoonful into your mouth, chewing and swallowing before leaning across to peck her on the lips. "i just love you is all you idiot."

momo blushes and you take the chance to grab the spoon from her and start eating the meal yourself.

she pouts and is about to whine when you both hear the door open, the telltale sign of keys jangling and the happy chattering of your other two favourite people in the world.

"momo! we got that ice cream y/n likes but i still don't think it's a good idea for her to eat it if she's sick!" nayeon's yelling from the door, probably taking off her shoes and you can hear a short squeal and something crash followed by laughter and you know sana has probably knocked something down or fallen over.

you raise your eyebrows at momo who shrugs and grins sheepishly, grabbing nayeon and sana's mugs and filling them with water.

when they come into the kitchen all loud and giggles its a sight for sore eyes. nayeon's kissing momo hello and setting the bags of shopping they have down. sana rounds the corner with more bags and that infectious smile. you loved all of them so much.

nayeon spots you first, frowning and walking over to you immediately, placing the back of her hand on your forehead. "hey baby, sorry to hear you weren't feeling well last night. are you feeling better now?"

you blush, nodding your head, your mouth still full of food.

sana's next to bound over to you once she's kissed momo in greeting as well, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and kissing the top of your head, "we missed you today. i got you this top i think would be really cute on you though! and momoring we also got you one of those draw-on shirts but we thought we could turn it into a date or something so we have four!" she's rummaging through her bags, producing items of clothing and talking about each one with her endless energy.

you swallow your food and look up at nayeon who has a fond smile on her face while watching sana, when she notices you looking at her she smiles and leans down to brush her lips against yours.

"wait... you're not sick with anything contagious are you...?"

"what if i was?"

she's squealing, running behind the counter before momo laughs and hands her the mug of water she filled and urging her to drink it. she also passes sana her mug who kisses her again in thanks.

you hum in content, happy to be around the people you loved most. its almost as if... they'll leave you. you don't deserve them. this is all temporary. don't get comfortable. you clench your spoon a little tighter, trying to will away the thoughts as you shove another spoonful into your mouth, focusing on the taste and the love behind the person who made it for you.

"-and i almost fell into the fountain and she just stood there and laughed at me!"

look at them enjoying themselves. you’re the odd one out. the one who’s about to break everyone’s happy mood.

you can make out nayeon's cackle, "in my defense! it was pretty funny! you had all your bags and everything and you threw your phone at that little boy!"

"wait sana you did what?"

you should just leave. leave them. look how happy they are without you. all you bring is sadness and anger. you can’t give them anything they’d want. what could you offer them?

"momoringg!! don't join her in this! he pushed me!"

"yeah because you were trying to steal his girlfriend!"

useless. hopeless. there’s nothing you can do. you can’t get anything right. not your job, not your friends, they’ll realise soon enough you know? that they’re better than you. that they’re too good for you. then it’ll be them leaving you. do it first before they realise that and break your heart.

"i was not!"

"that definitely sounds like you actually."

"y/n! you're on my side right?"

you look up in a daze, confused at what the context of the conversation was. "sorry?"

momo's frowning, trying to meet your eyes but you avoid her, looking at sana who's pouting, "were you listening? are you okay y/n?"

"y-yeah sorry i was just- just thinking about something. can you tell me the story again?"

suddenly sana's all in your space, basically climbing into your lap and cupping your cheeks with her hands, squinting at you. "what were you thinking about?"

you blush immediately, "oh y-y'know, just work."

"work's more important than me?"

"no sana i didn't mean it like that i'm sorry. of course work isn’t more important than you. can you tell me the story again? i'll listen this time i promise."

sana hums, nudging her nose against yours gently, "i'll tell you if you tell me the truth."

"what truth?" you feign indifference.

you can tell nayeon is looking at momo, asking for an explanation with her eyes but momo shrugs, turning away and going towards the sink to do the dishes.

"we've been together for 7 months y/n. and i've known you for much longer than that. i can tell when you're lying honey."

you gulp, clutching the spoon tighter with your hands when you feel someone else, nayeon, unwrap your fingers gently and take the spoon away, interlocking your fingers with hers instead.

you stand up quickly, unable to be interrogated at such close distance anymore. sana looks a little hurt when you do, pouting but letting you go. you look at nayeon who's eyeing you with a concerned curiosity. momo still has her back to all of you with the tap on but you can tell her shoulders are tense.

you rub the back of your neck in nervousness, avoiding all of their gazes. "u-um... i actually kinda... have something i needed to talk to you all about..."

you can feel the anxiety ramping up, the adrenaline and urge to run away pumping through you, your palms beginning to sweat.

momo saves you when she turns off the tap and wipes her hands clean, "let's all go to the living room and have some ice cream and we can talk about it yeah?"

you smile at her gratefully and she returns it, grabbing the ice cream nayeon and sana just brought back and a few spoons and bowls.

nayeon and sana exchange looks of confusion but help momo bring the utensils over and eventually you're all sitting on your couch in the living room with the television on for some background noise so it wasn't too awkward.

you fiddle with your hands, not looking at any of them while the random sitcom you have plays in the background. momo notices and grabs a hand, intertwining your fingers and squeezing gently, reassuring you that she was there.

you take a breath, clearing your throat and looking up at nayeon and sana.

"so i- um- i don't really know how to say this-"

"it's okay baby take your time. it's just us right?"

"yeah we're not going to judge you honey. we're here for you whatever this is okay?"

you take a shaky breath in, mumbling incoherently to yourself before deciding, "u-um it's probably a bit easier to s-show you." you let go of momo's hand and start to undo the tie at your pants.

"um... y/n if all you wanted was sex i think there were other ways to-" momo slaps nayeon who yelps, rubbing her arm where she was hit mumbling a "what?" but momo shushes her and gestures back to you.

you stand up and drop your pants, immediately feeling the cool breeze against your naked legs, shivering a little and fighting the urge to cover yourself. you stare down at your feet when you hear the little gasps. you decide to start talking, refusing to look up, "i'm sorry i made momo lie to you. i wasn't sick last night. i woke up and started thinking some… not so great things and i needed it to stop so i- um- i went to the bathroom where i hid some of my old stuff and i um- well-“ you awkwardly gesture at your thighs before continuing, “momo woke up and found me after the first cut. i would’ve kept going if she didn’t find me. she helped me clean up and bandage it and then i asked to sleep in the guest room because i didn’t want to um- i wasn’t ready to uh- to tell you guys yet- i’m sorry for keeping this from all of you for so long.“

when you’re done, you risk a glance up, and find the three loves of your life, tears running down their faces.

sana’s the first to move, she gets up and practically jumps over to you, but she stops short right before you touch, “c-can i- c-can i hug you?”

you smile at her, feeling your own tears well up at the sight of your three girlfriends crying. “of course darling. i’m still the same. i still love cuddling with you.”

she doesn’t give you a second thought and buries her head into your neck, wrapping her arms around your waist. you realise you’re still standing in the middle of the living room with your pants down which is a little absurd but you wrap your arms around her, sagging into her a little when she squeezes. you can feel her soft crying and the tears wet your neck.

nayeon stands and comes around as well, a little hesitant but you look at her and offer a wet smile and she breaks, enveloping the both of you in her arms as well with a muted sob. momo joins in as well because of course she does, you look at her gratefully as she sniffles, fiddling a little with her fingers before coming around behind you and moulding herself to your back, hands coming around your waist and holding onto sana’s hands, giving them a squeeze for reassurance as well.

you're surrounded with all the love you wanted. so why do you still want to die? you don't listen to that voice, pushing it down and trying to stay in the moment. eventually, someone breaks away, and you awkwardly shuffle your pants back on, glad to be able to cover up your scars.

nayeon speaks up first, a hand still holding yours, squeezing gently, "how long have you been... y'know-"

"since before i met you. the thoughts started getting really bad when i was still in high school. and all the pressure with doing well and all the extra curriculars i was picking up, it just got too much. the only thing that worked was the pain. it got me through high school, and i started to rely on it. but then... the first time i slept with someone... she was appalled. i had almost forgotten the scars were there until my pants were off. she got scared off and i told myself i wouldn't let anyone else see this side of me."

"baby..."

"it's okay. it got better after i met you guys. and when we all started dating i stopped. i felt happy." you smile up at your girlfriends, tears still streaming down your face, "being with all of you made me forget those things. but they came back. and worse this time because- because i have so much more to lose now. i can't- i can't lose you-" you can't control the sobs when you break down again. pathetic.

the girls are surrounding you instantly, whispering reassurances, brushing through your hair, tracing shapes into your skin, you try and focus on your bodily sensations rather than your internalisations, try and focus on them.

"we'd never leave you honey... we're not complete without you, you believe me right?" sana's tilting your face up to meet hers, her eyes are watery, nose red.

"i'm trying to believe you."

she places her forehead against yours and closes her eyes, sighing slightly, "i'm going to tell you that everyday from now. that i love you and that i'm not going anywhere. until you believe me." she smiles and tries for a joke, "you're going to have to deal with clingy me for the rest of your life."

you let out a broken laugh, kissing her sweetly. "i love when you're clingy anyway."

she laughs as well, wiping at her nose.

you peek at nayeon. you know she has more questions, the frown on her face and the little pout she has breaks your heart. you reach a hand out to her, she takes it after some consideration, and you pull her into your lap.

"you can ask anything. there's nothing off limits. i'll try answer everything i can and i promise i'll be honest with everything. that goes for the both of you as well." you look over at sana who's moved to your side to allow for nayeon to sit on your lap, she's got a hand on the eldest's waist, playing with her shirt, her other hand on your shoulder.

momo moves to your other side, lifting nayeon's legs and placing them on her own, tracing her calves and brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

nayeon's biting her lip, you focus on the small mole under her left eyebrow.

"w-why didn't you tell us?"

you sigh, "i didn't really think i needed to at first. because i hadn't done it in so long. i thought i was better."

"is it because you thought you couldn't trust us?"

"no baby that's not it."

"why did you keep your old stuff hidden then? when we moved in together? a part of you must have thought you weren't entirely better."

you bring a hand up to caress her cheek, she leans into the touch. "you're right. i'm sorry."

"is it still here?"

you look towards momo for an answer and she nods, "i didn't want to throw everything away. i wanted you to make that decision on your own. i thought that if we forcefully got rid of your things you might just try and hide it from us the next time the feelings come up. it's there but i... i don't really like the idea of leaving you alone y/n..."

nayeon's squeezing one of momo's hands, "pretty baby's so smart. i'm thankful you found her momo."

you nod in agreement, "is that why you kept following me around?"

momo nods shyly, her eyes still wet.

"i'm okay with that. i don't- i don't really trust myself right now either. i think it'd be good if someone was with me. if that wasn't... a burden or anything of course..."

sana jumps in, "honey no. you're not a burden. i hope you don't think that about yourself. i love taking care of you. i'd love being able to be there for you while you get better."

you smile at her gratefully.

"what are some of the bad thoughts you have baby?" nayeon's bringing your attention back to her, you can tell she's struggling to formulate these questions. but you're glad that she's asking them.

"a lot of it is about you guys. because you're all the reason i'm still here today."

"what about us? what can we do sweetie?"

you shake your head, looking down at your hands which are quickly taken ahold of by momo and sana. "i guess it comes down to... wondering if you can still love me while i hate myself." your grip tightens around their hands.

"you hate yourself?" nayeon's voice is shaky now, she's trying her best to hold back her emotions, wanting to find out everything she can do for you.

you nod, tears dropping onto her pants.

"there's this song. i think- i think it might be easier to play that for you guys if that's okay? i'm not really- i don't really know how to talk about this..."

they nod and quickly try and find your phone. momo finds it and hands it over to you. you quickly unlock it and search for the song you're looking for. could you love me while i hate myself - zeph.

you press play, clicking into the lyrics and staring at them to avoid looking at your girlfriend's reactions. it's a short song.

could you love me while i hate myself?

could you love me though i don't deserve it?

could you love me like there's no one else

even though you know i can't return it?

could you love me when the water's rough?

or when i leave you in a desert?

could you love me, though i speak with knives?

knowing all to well that you'll get hurt

if you can't answer 'yes' just go

i'm more trouble than i'm worth

could you love me while i hate myself?

because i don't know how this works

i never learned how this works

when it ends, you awkwardly tap out of your app, putting your phone down.

"thank you for sharing that baby."

you hum.

nayeon takes a shaky breath in, then quietly asks, "is it okay if i sing for you?"

you're surprised, looking up at her, her eyes are red. you nod.

she closes her eyes, humming a note to start, taking a breath in again and steadying her voice.

i'll love you while you hate yourself

i'll love you because you deserve it

i'll love you like i love us together

until you're ready to return it

i'll love you when things get rough

no matter where you leave us

i'll love you even when you're

working out all your thoughts

i'll get hurt if it means

some of your pain comes onto me

i'll love you while you hate yourself

and we'll figure out how it works

together we'll learn to get better

when she finishes and opens her eyes, you're sniffling again, tears streaming out of your eyes.

sana's the first to speak up, bringing her hands up to wipe at the tears on nayeon's cheeks, "our little musical genius. of course you came up with a response exactly on pitch after listening to a song once."

nayeon lets out a broken laugh, leaning into sana's touch.

you meet her eyes, a bright smile gracing your face, and you probably look a little silly, wet cheeks and red nosed with tears still dripping out of you, but nayeon laughs again in relief, coming in and kissing you.

you kiss her back gratefully, trying to convey how much you loved her in your action. you can feel sana's hand on your arm and momo's fingers in your hair. you loved them.

the thoughts are still there. you think they’ll always be there. but you don’t have to take them on on your own anymore. it would take time, but the people you loved were going to help you through it. you needed to put some trust in them as well, trust that they wouldn't leave, trust that they loved you just as you loved them, you wanted to get better, for them and for yourself, you believed you could get better with their help, for now, that was enough.

⸸

an extra a/n bcs its important: hi! i recognise that all experiences are unique so i just wanted to say the descriptions here aren’t meant to be generalised and i didn’t intend to write any stereotypes or misconceptions and i apologise if i have - i try to draw upon my own experiences to be able to write - in saying that i hope that anyone who feels they relate to similar themes etc seeks the help they need from professional sources - my dms are open ofc but i am not a professional and it is best to speak to someone who can help you in real time and in physicality. stay safe love y’all practice some self care today if u get the chance! <3

#namosa #samoyeon #nayeon #momo #sana #im nayeon #hirai momo #minatozaki sana #twice nayeon #twice momo #twice sana #nayeon x reader #momo x reader #sana x reader #twice x reader #twice imagines #sana imagines #momo imagines #nayeon imagines #royaltozaki

[getyourdirtyhandsoffme]

Hi :) If you don't mind, could you do a SKZ Han fic about Han finding out male reader is transgender (ftm). Ofc I understand if you can't, but I really appreciate it!

‎ AUTHOR: I'm so happy, this is my first request and of course I don't mind making transgender stories, as I am a TransMan myself, I would love to do this! Thank you for requesting and I hope this story is in your expectations along with joy!

"MISUNDERSTANDING."

GENDER: FTM READER

SCENARIO: Idol Han + College Student Reader

GENRE(S): Comedy, fluff, A bit angst, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending

DYSPHORIA WARNING(S): Dead name mentioned a few times, dysphoria, feminine words/terms, and Mention the word "Pretty girl"

OTHER WARNING(S): Misunderstanding, mentions of 'Cheating' (in a more misunderstanding), Reader going throughout a breakdown and anxiety along with Jisung, mentions of crying, argument. Mentions of the words like "Cut" but not in $ucidal way. Scissors. Shouting and swearing.

Please like, comment or/and reblog! Thank you!

(I didn't really proof read or ask grammarly to fix my grammar so we just have to hope for the best!)

You hate it.

You hate the way you look.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, grabbing a fist of your long hair, you hated how it made you look too feminine.

You wanted to cut it but you fear how he would react to it.

You let go of your hair as you just tied into a bun, making it at least look like you have short hair.

You didn't want to keep it a secret to him, you loved him. He always made you laugh and always supported your careers. You even know he supported the community however, you knew he was straight.

So, you stay hidden as a 'woman' for 9 months just for him.

You were scared to lose him.

You were so lost in thought you almost didn't hear the name calling and knocking from the bathroom door.

"(Dead name)! Are you alright? You are taking so long, the popcorn is about to get cold."

(Dead name). You don't go by that name anymore, you never wanted to have that name in the first place.

Your eyes stared at the bathroom door, sighing as you walked to the door, unlocking it. You were face to face with your boyfriend, Jisung.

"Hey, baby." You responded kinda dry, trying your best to smile at him.

He looked at you, up and down, worried.

"Are you alright?"

All you can do is nod as you walk to the living room, sitting yourself down on the couch—ignoring the stares from your boyfriend.

Lost in thought, ignoring the feeling of your boyfriend next to you.

Ignoring the movie playing, it's all static to you.

Ignoring the popcorn that was placed next to you.

You ignored everything but your own thoughts.

You hated it.

These days, you have been secretly buying more men's products, hiding them underneath the clothes in your cabinet.

You brought cologne, men's clothing, boxers, shoes, everything that could help you to become what you always wanted to be.

It felt horrible keeping this a secret, hiding it from him but you were scared.

So scared.

You even secretly brought a binder as well but only wear it when you are going out by yourself or your friends who knew about you are a TransMan.

All of this fear is going on, you didn't notice how your relationship with Jisung was slacking off.

Almost like you became quite distant with him.

Lack of trust, more of fear and dysphoria.

Of course, you two still hang out from time to time, well, when he is free. Even trying to text and call more since he is a kpop idol but it felt less and dry.

Jisung was scared as well, but in the fear of losing you.

He didn't know what he did wrong as he tries his best to think of what mistakes he has made.

He kept on overthinking to the point it triggered his anxiety a few times, he had fears of you cheating on him.

He didn't want to think that but those thoughts kept on filling his brain that you were with someone else this whole time. Maybe someone better than him.

He couldn't shake this feeling off as he quickly left the studio and walked to the apartment.

Every step he takes, he fears he might see you lay next to a different man or anybody. Fears of you kissing that person along with talking bad about him behind his back.

He almost felt himself starting to cry as he walked to the apartment.

When he makes it, he walks upstairs to the second floor, going to the room number of his lover while grabbing the keys that you gave him when you both thought about sharing apartments together in their 4 months dating together.

He stands in front of the door, debating if he should barge in or knock to let them know that he is here.

His hands were shaking yet he chose to just barge in.

He quickly unlocks the front door of their shared apartment, quickly shutting behind him as he looks around.

Nothing seems suspicious besides a few photos of you and him together gone from the walls.

He frowned from that as he thinks more of the relationship between the two of you. It was either breaking up or cheating.

He shakes his head as he walks to your, or their bedroom.

He opens it to find a messy room.

A few frames that used to be framed in the living room walls, empty along with the photos of both of you together piled on top of each other on the floor.

He even noticed a few pieces of clothing that almost looked like it came out of the men's section along with shoes.

He walks around some more, looking around for any more suspicion until he finally faces the cabinets that he didn't open yet.

He opens the cabinets and looks carefully, grabbing out clothes like boxers, cologne that wasn't clearly his and a few more men's clothing. Maybe even more.

He grips the boxers.

He wanted to cry so hard but all he could think was you.

You are cheating...(?)

You walked inside the apartment, locking the door behind you.

You just got home from the library, studying for an upcoming exam happening next week.

You sighed, all you wanted to do was take a quick shower and sleep, which is exactly what you were about to do.

You change your shoes into your slippers as you speed walk to your bedroom until you stop.

You noticed your bedroom door slightly open.

You stood there, contemplating if you should run out and grab a weapon or gaslight yourself by thinking that you somehow forgot to close your door fully.

You thought the best idea was to grab a weapon, so as you turned around to do so, you heard crying.

Jisung?

You quickly opened the door, face to face with Jisung gripping your boxers, shaking.

You were shocked, feeling yourself shaken with fear.

"Wh-what are you doing here, Jiji?"

You questioned him as you slowly walked up to him, about to give him a hug until he pushed you away softly.

"Don't touch me. I knew it all along..."

What? He knew?

"What? What do you mean?" You eyes wide as you step away from him, almost like you wanted to run away from this situation.

"The photo frames, how distant you were, and now these." Jisung throws the boxers to the ground and then points at your cabinet. "I should've known! Fuck you! Why?" He shouted at you, glaring at you.

"You went through my stuff!?" You shouted back, feeling more taken back.

"Of course I did! I was worried! You felt so distant that I had a feeling you were hiding something from me and I was correct, you were hiding that something!"

You started to cry, you didn't want him to find out. Not like this.

"Please, Jisung, let's talk about this. I didn't know you were going to react like that..."

"What? You didn't know I was going to react like this? Everyone would react like this in this situation! What happened to us? What did I do wrong?" He shouts as he paces back and forward while continuing on with his words.

"I treated you kindly, I gave you love and this is what you do? You were supposed to be my girlfriend, (Dead name)! What the fuck is wrong with you!"

You shook your head as you continued on crying, even Jisung tears kept falling but his anger was rising higher from you weeping.

"Jisung, please! I can still be your girlfriend, I'm sorry! It will be over soon I promise, just give me time..."

"Soon? Soon. Are you serious? How the hell are you supposed to be my fuckin girlfriend when you can't get over that person, you damn cheater!"

Just by that, you stopped crying as you quickly looked at him, confused.

"Huh?" That's all you can say as you wipe your tears from your face.

"Don't 'Huh' me, you're literally cheating on me with someone else!"

So, this is all a misunderstanding.

You thought he knew he was trans but he actually thought you were cheating. Now you have to come out to him either way to make him stop thinking that you are cheating on him when you are actually not.

"No, I'm not. You got it all wrong..."

"Huh? But what about this!" He points to the boxers.

"Those are..." You bite your lip as you try to calm your anxiety down. You didn't want to lose him over a misunderstanding. You didn't really think you were going to be in this situation in the first place.

"Those..are mine."

Jisung stops placing around as he stares at you, his eyes bloodshot red from crying hard.

"Huh?"

"Jisung, this is not how I wanted you to find out but I didn't think you thought it THAT way. I would never cheat on you. You are literally the best boyfriend I ever have..."

You step closer to him, your eyes getting filled with more tears.

"But, you are correct about me hiding something from you and being distant. I was being a bit selfish and selfless as well. I was scared so I wanted to protect myself by distancing myself from you but even protecting our relationship from pretending to be something I'm not..."

Jisung stays quiet as he continues listening.

"I'm not...I'm not your girlfriend anymore."

"So, you are breaking up with me?"

You shook your head quickly.

"NO! Maybe I shouldn't worded it like that. I mean as in..." You sighed as you grip your arms.

"I'm not a girl, Jisung. I'm transman. I've actually been for a while until I met you. You thought I was a pretty girl and wanted to date me so I pretended to be a girl just for you. You treated me with so much care that I ignored my dysphoria, I ignored everything for you but I can't. It hurts so much to be something that I'm not..."

Jisung stood there now in shock, as he started to feel bad along with the times he called you feminine terms.

"How come you never told me this earlier...?"

You shrugged, looking down while chuckling a bit.

"I mean, how am I supposed to react to a cute guy going up to me and all of sudden calling me pretty and asking me out on a date?" You joked a bit but Jisung didn't really find it funny as he continues on feeling bad.

"You were afraid I wouldn't accept you for who you are?"

You nodded.

"Do you not trust me when I say that I love you no matter what every time I see you?"

Those words broke you. Of course you trusted him but at the same time you weren't sure.

"But, aren't you straight?"

"Not anymore..." Jisung grabs your hands. "Do I have to say it again so my own boyfriend can trust me more? I love you no matter what. I love you so much. I really do wish you told me this way earlier, all these times I hurt you and triggered your dysphoria..."

You smiled as you looked up at him who was smiling back at you.

"Boyfriend...?" You slowly said, feeling yourself smiling even wider.

"Yes, my cute boyfriend! I'm so sorry! I can't believe we almost broke up—well I almost broke up with you! Please don't do that again, my anxiety was rising too high!"

You nodded as he gave you a bunch of kisses onto your face.

"Please trust me, I love you too much to leave you."

"Of course, I'm sorry for not telling you this way earlier. I'll become more and more trustful with you and not keep anymore secrets, I'm so sorry! I love you so much!"

You both smile, holding into each other's embrace.

"Oh yeah, Jiji, since you are here. Help me clean."

Jisung groans jokingly but nods anyways as you both clean your mess.

A few months later...

"So, are you sure you want a hair cut?"

You nodded several times.

"Yes, I promise you I won't regret it like the last time." You laughed as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

"Yeah, because last time when you asked for short hair, the hair stylist accidentally, somehow, gave you a pixie cut. There isn't anything wrong with any pixie cuts but really?" Jisung commented as he wraps the towel in front of your upper body.

"Well, that's why we are doing it in our bathroom. Free and you can do my hair correctly."

"I'm an idol not a hair salonist—you might just go bald at this point."

You rolled your eyes, laughing.

"If you do make me bald, I won't hesitate to sue you."

"Yeah yeah, let me give you a nice short hair cut. You want a fade too?" He questions, grabbing a pair of scissors and a ruler (?).

"Do you even know how to do a fade...?"

"You want to find out?"

"Hell no, just give me this hair cut, good sir." You showed a picture to him.

"Of course, my prince! Anything for you! I'll make you look fabulous with this hairstyle~"

"I hope..." You side eyes him.

"Just trust me."

You rolled your eyes but nodded anyways.

You felt happy.

You didn't ignore anything around you.

You felt loved for the way you are.

"Fuck, I think I messed up, (Preferred Name)!"

"WHAT?!"

I hope this was perfect enough for you, I tried to make it more uhh whatever I was thinking about! Hope you enjoy!

Ngl, it felt like I didn't know wtf I was typing even though I planned it out a bit.

#ftm reader #male reader #x ftm reader #x male reader #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz imagines #straykids x reader #straykids x male reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x male reader #han jisung skz #han jisung x male reader #han jisung fanfic #han jisung x reader #gay #straykids reactions #straykids fanfic #kpop x male reader #kpop x reader #MR.OFFSTORY

[ghouljams]

Okay okay I saw your post about wanting the witch to do some really crazy magic that proves she’s tough and I raise you an additional idea. European magic and myths with fae and cryptids is more positive and nice, especially with modern retelling of fairy tails (I know this isn’t necessarily true there are some really dark aspects of European folk). I myself am from the Appalachian Mountains, and that region is very very old. I don’t know what you know about the region but the mountains themselves are older than the rings of Saturn, and bones. With how old they are the region has a lot of folk lore and cryptids and dark legends surrounding it, most of which coming from the indigenous communities that were there before us. Haints, wendigo/skin walker, and a slew of rules everyone follows. You don’t whistle at night, keep a broom above every door, cover the mirrors and open the windows when someone dies, if you hear screaming or someone calling for you in the dark or woods- NO YOU DIDNT!!! Dark shit like that is a big deal where I’m from. Now my actual thought was what if witch is from a old magic type of place, and when someone (another fae not price) comes to challenge her or test her saying she ain’t powerful or she doesn’t know real magic and fae, she shows them where she’s from (I was thinking with her cool door) they step thru into the middle of the woods of her ancestral/family home and they immediately are terrified. Like the fae!141 are old and ancient fae but the region is older than even then and it scares the fuck outta them, like they immediately forfeit! Maybe they saw something in the woods or just the overall feeling of the place is overwhelming. This would also match up with the witch being so scared of the mimic, cause wendigos/skin walkers are fucking terrifying in a place like Appalachia so her moving and thinking that’s what she’s being terrorized by is horrifying!!! I know this is really long and probably makes no sense and whatever you write is and will be amazing but I just had this thought today cause your writing lives rent free in my mind 24/7!!! Whatever witch x price you make will make me feral no matter what!!!!

Witch's magic is actually loosely based around American folk magic, specifically Hoodoo and some Appalachian folk magic. And all I can say is: Don't bring those names into my ask box they are so very scary and I'm scared(joking)(I actually am terrified of .... I don't even like typing their name). Although I don't think Witch is from the US, she is definitely very, very, old magic. I have various thoughts on where her magic comes from, but it's old. (I think Konig stops to look at her because her magic is familiar to him, an ancient understanding ingrained in him of what she is)

Anyway I have a few little pieces about Witch interacting with other witches, what's one more challenge to her abilities?

It's always interesting when fae visit you. When they come to you as customers, you mean. No you're fairly used to visitors at this point. It's the ones that come to you for a service that you don't get often. You smile at the fae across from you as you shuffle your cards. They came in through the front, you know they want something. Annoying that they've managed to stay silent as you ushered them in.

18, 19, you switch between the cards to try and get a feel for what will work best for your silent customer. The man, you suppose, laying the card down on the table. Not for their appearance, but for the role they seem intent on playing. Domineering, or trying to be. You lay cards around it, humming to yourself. Snake, birds, mice, the coffin, the clouds, the home. You know all this. They're sitting right in front of me practically salivating, you try to silently tell your deck.

"So," You squint your eyes to really try and sell your smile as friendly, you feel like you're doing little more than bearing your teeth, "What are you looking for today?"

"Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about," They tell you calmly. You snap down three cards for yourself in quick succession, though you hardly need to read them to get the message.

"Boot this rude motherfucker" the cards tell you. You scoop up your draws with your fingers and shuffle them back into the deck.

"I see," You try to keep your voice bright. They scoff, their expression amused. You don't see what's so funny.

"Hardly, I expected a seer at least, you're-" They wave their hand at you, "-just feeling it out, right?" You raise your brows, continue your shuffle. "I expected Price to be chasing someone a little more," They sigh, you don't expect them to finish the sentence, you're sure it's insulting. Rules dictate politeness, they sure are skirting that line.

"You know Price," You don't ask, but the question hangs between you. How? and Does he even like you? You can't imagine he does.

"Mm, we're on the court together," The fae rests their elbow on the arm of your couch, sets their chin against their palm, fingers curling against their cheek. "Strange he'd be so protective of such a novice, but I suppose you're pretty. He likes pretty."

You let your head tip side to side as you think. Novice. That's one you're not used to hearing. You wonder why they'd think that. Can't they feel your magic? A card jumps out of your shuffling. The home. Ah. You feel your smile grow more genuine as you press the card back into the middle of your deck.

Of course they can't feel you. This whole place is you. It would be like looking at an ocean and deciding it's harmless because you can't pick out a single drop of water. That doesn't stop the waves from dragging you out to drown any more than it stops your magic from surrounding this fae. You wonder if they can feel it, the way your magic hones in on them, eyes watching their every move with silent focus.

"Why don't I show you out?" You set your deck on the table and stand without waiting for an answer, leading them to your back door. You're sure they'll find your garden more than impressive now that you've rescinded their welcome.

"Why not," They follow, "I should be going anyway, you're hardly worth the trouble the others are sending after you."

It's crossing the threshold a second time that hurts, that spins and swims in the fae's vision. The heat of a familiar season ripping through them like an oven. Summer bound by heavy chains and iron spikes. You smile at them peacefully, spidering ties arcing off of you towards the sun itself. You burn. Your magic lashes against the confines of the garden, the walls and wards worked into the land, into summer itself.

The fae looks back into your home, the consumptive darkness of a doorway once broken and twice repaired, of a space that shouldn't be a space. A house that's wrong. They look back to you, to the soft tilt of your head, the faux patience as you wait for them to remember what they're here for.

The ground beneath their feet is unfamiliar, and pitches their stomach. They stumble a little, the pressure of the magic keeping a whole season in place settling on their shoulders. It takes everything in them not to buckle under the weight.

"This is fun," You smile at them, raising a hagstone to your eye, "I was wondering why my wards were acting up."

They do their best to collect enough air to respond. Everything feels thick and humid, the heat only raising as they stay close to you. They blink against the blinding sun, their vision swinging violently as they try to keep their focus on moving. Are they moving? You aren't. You're the only fixed point as the world pitches on its axis and spins.

You and your terrible smile, staring down at their suffering. They're on the court for fucks sake, some little human pet shouldn't stand half a chance against them. They make to swing for you, try to grab you with their claws. There's only air, their depth perception wavering between distances. You crouch, following them as the weight of magic forces them to their knees.

"Now I will admit," You hum, reaching to pluck a few stray hairs from their head, "I don't particularly care for killing, so I'll leave you for Price to take care of."

You snap your fingers and the fae straightens and stands from their misery. They walk themselves to the gate and open it. They look back at you, and you wiggle your fingers in goodbye as the hairs in your grip spark with the same fire that engulfs them as they step out into Winter.

#oc: Witch #ghoul speaks #Price finding the charred barely alive fae: lmao get wrekt #he wishes he could've seen Witch committing acts of violence #just the thought turns him on a little #oc fic #oc talk #Idk what to tag this as tbh #original work #original fiction #Price does kill the poor sod #Witch does some improvised poppet magic and also just wrecks a bitch

[nyxvuxoa-writes]

𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚖 𝚁𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚜 -- 𝙰𝚄

William Rollins x Fem!Reader

◢ Genre: AU, Dark Fic, Smut, Plot Bunny — Suitable For Adults Only

◢ Warnings: darkfic, alternative universe, sexualization of a bad guy, toxic relationship, mentions of stalking behavior, manipulation, mentions of being institutionalized, mental health talk, keeping secrets, possessive!William, use of petname: kitten, exploring kink with William, body marking, knife kink, pain play, Dacryphilia (turned on by crying), katoptronophilia (sexual acts in front of mirrors), sexually recording the reader. Proceed with caution in case I missed something.

◢ A/N: This is an AU headcanon style fic list where William didn't die, but instead had been institutionalized for his behavior, and later released. It's based off William and his personality, though in a non-canon setting. Keep in mind, William is a psychopath, so don't always expect fluffy stuff with him. If you want a more direct x fem!reader insert with him based off this concept, let me know. Gif credit goes to myself.

◢ I do not consent to my work being post anywhere else.

The first time you had talked to William, it had been in a chat room.

Old habits die hard, and the internet has progressed so much.

You wanted to vent to a stranger about life and he was willing to listen.

He's charismatic, knowing exactly what to say to make you feel like you are on top of the world.

It was his way of learning you. He wanted to know what made you tick.

You found yourself confiding in him, telling him your secrets, fears, and insecurities.

Naturally, he knew how to use these things to his advantage.

To make sure you trusted him back, he started to confide in you.

But not the whole truth.

He's only told you bits and pieces of things.

Like that his mental health had declined as a teenager.

That he ended up institutionalized because of it.

It was just enough to make you feel sorry for him.

But not so much so that it would scare you away from him.

And it was likely a little warped in perspective.

That doesn't matter to him, so long as he has you at this point.

As far as you know, he's okay now and you are the reason he keeps going.

And that might not be a whole lie, he's actually become rather attached to you.

Maybe more so than you realize.

Dangerously so.

You might even have some darker things in common.

Which, if you do, he's going to find out one way or another.

After establishing yourselves, you finally agree to meet.

When you first met William, he had come off as perfect.

He flashed you that charming smile and batted the lashes on those pretty blue eyes which naturally caused you to bring your guard down.

He makes you feel safe, wanted, desired.

He's forward, but not overly so.

It's his way of testing the waters a little more.

But when you let him, he gives you these soft and sweet kisses.

The kind where his lips hover over yours after, and he simply smiles against them before he kisses you again.

You are his now.

He has his claws in you, and has no intention of letting go.

But being away from you doesn't exactly sit well with him.

He starts to keep an eye on your social media. He watches where you post from or what you are posting.

He checks on who you are talking to and who interacts with your page.

If he feels that someone is getting a little too close to what is his, William won't hesitate to make his presence known.

He'll leave little comments here or there to show you that he's paying attention.

At first, it's not going to come off overly possessive, but as time goes on it will start to become more clear in his wording that 'what's his, is his.'

Depending on the type of girl you are, this is either good or bad.

It will either turn you on, or it won't.

Let's assume that it does.

You like feeling that sense of being desired so badly.

In a way, he makes you crave it.

Even through a screen, this man a way of making you feel different things and deep emotions.

But with that being said, he has a way of convincing you of things.

Be it, he's trying to get you to change your opinion about something or someone.

Or he's trying to convince you to do something.

It doesn't take too much at times, and he's able to have you doing things that you don't quite realize is bad right off the bat.

You are blinded by love to really notice the bigger picture.

But even than, you might not care.

You might accept him for how he is.

And depending on the type of friends or family you might have, they could see right through him.

There will be people that will try and warn you about him, but that doesn't mean you will listen.

And if he keeps having it his way, he'd prefer it if you didn't listen to them.

"They are full of shit, Kitten. I'm always doing what's best for you. What's best for us."

Eventually you find yourself defending him at times.

His own little shield that he will head-pat and tell you that you're a good girl.

Eventually things will start to sexually escalate.

It had been a mutual starting on both parts, with some light flirting texts that headed into a round of sexting.

Which had left both of you craving more and it starts to become an almost daily thing until you see each other again.

You can rest assured that the first moment you got the chance, clothes were stripped off and William was pressing himself roughly into you.

He learns what gets you wet. Be it fast or slow, a little bit of both.

He'll get a little dirty in his language if he knows it's going to make you tighter around him.

And he's a moaner.

Soft at first, but the more he presses and the closer he gets, the louder he can get.

"Fuck! Kitten you feel so good."

"Keep going Kitten, you're gonna make me cum."

"That's my girl."

If you're the kinky type, William is willing to explore.

He may have a particular fondness for more edgeplay related kinks.

He would also enjoy marking your body.

Hicky marks in various spots.

Maybe he'd drag a knife against your skin from time to time. Leaving little cuts here and there.

The more things continue the more he develops an enjoyment of pain play.

Be it spankings or simply manhandling you, William knows that you belong to him and he will use you as he pleases.

If he can make you cry during this, he gets even more turned on.

There is something about seeing you in that moment of being particularly vulnerable that he enjoys.

There is added bonus if you happen to have a full body mirror around.

He likes to watch himself with you, and he particularly enjoys watching you.

This will eventually progress into him wanting to record you.

Even if he isn't involved in what you are doing.

He'll get you to play with yourself and it won't be long before his phone is out and pointed right at you.

He'll take pictures of you while you're naked. He'll even take pictures of you when you aren't even aware of it.

The stalking, no matter how long you are together, it won't stop. Which means, some of those photos are of you through out the day, or on your video calls with him.

He actually starts to enjoy the type of control that he has over you.

It's a different type of control than what he's used to having over people. But it's satisfying in it's own way.

This doesn't mean he stops manipulating you, or others at that. He wouldn't be William if he didn't try and manipulate you, or those around you.

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

May consider doing a part two and expand on this more. I'm not sure yet. Tagging: @voxmortuus @earth-elemental18 @bettytaylorversion @liveandbreathesmut

#william rollins #william rollins x reader #william rollins x fem!reader #william rollins smut #william rollins angst #william rollins x you #tangerine x you #tangerine smut #aaron taylor johnson smut #aaron taylor johnson fanfic #aaron taylor johnson x reader #aaron taylor johnson #nyxvuxoa writes

[sydsaint]

Damian who? Santos is my only valid Lantino papi <3

Summary: After defecting from the LWO and reuniting with his Legado family, Santos finds himself faced with a decision regarding the reader and Elektra who are both vying for his affection.

You arrive to the LFI lockeroom early so you've got plenty of time to get ready for the show. Angel and Humberto are already there hanging out when you arrive, but Santos and Elektra haven't shown up just yet.

"Hey, Berto, Angel." You wave at the pair as you come through the door.

"Hey, YN." Humberto waves back at you, looking up from his phone.

Angel nods at you as well, but doesn't say anything. You shut the locker room door and head over to the vanity sitting in the corner. You set your duffel bag down and fish your makeup bag out of it so you can get started on dolling up your face.

"Who are you getting all prettied up for, YN?" Angel saunters over to you after a few minutes.

"Not you, Angel, that's for sure." You tease him.

Angel chuckles and rolls his eyes playfully. "You hear that, cousin?" He turns back to Humberto. "YN here's got a thing for our fearless leader."

"Mhm." You hum while applying your mascara carefully. "Jealous?" You continue to joke around with Angel.

"Maybe a little." Angel grins at you. "Any man would be lucky to have your attention, Mi Amore." He winks at you.

You giggle and Angel finally leaves you alone for the time being. You finish up your makeup and are putting things away when Elektra and Santos finally arrive. You watch the pair in the mirror as they come through the door. Your jaw clenches in jealousy when you spot the way Elektra hangs on Santos as they come inside the locker room.

"Afternoon, Santos." You swivel around in your chair and greet Santos, also making a point to ignore Elektra.

"YN! Punctual as always, I see, Mi Corazon." Santos walks over to you. "How long have you been here?" He asks you.

You shrug like your earliness is no big deal. "Oh around half an hour is all." You assure him. "Angel and Humberto were already here when I arrived." You add.

"Well, those two don't have anything special going on anyway." Santos replies. "But you, Mi Corazon. I's expect you to have plenty going on." He smirks at you.

You drop your head and smile to yourself for replying. "Oh? And what kinds of things do you expect me to be doing in my free time, Santos?" You ask him.

"Well, I imagine that you've got droves of men dying to meet you in whatever city we're in." Santos explains. "I know I'd pay a high price to get a photo with such a beautiful woman." He adds with a wink.

"Santos!" You giggle playfully.

A few feet away, Elektra scoffs quietly to herself before making her way over to the two of you. "Santos! You're going to come out with me for my match against Tiffany Straton, right?" She asks him, batting her eyelashes gently.

"Yes, I said I would come out with you earlier." Santos reminds Elektra, turning away from you.

"Thank you, Santos." Elektra cooes. "It's nice to have support from our fearless leader." She grins and bats her eyelashes again.

You roll your eyes, regonizing the game that Elektra is attempting to play with you. "I've got that match against Zelina as well, tonight." You get Santos' attention back on you. "But since you're going out with Elektra, I think that I'll go it alone tonight."

"Nonsense." Santos protests. "You should take Humberto and Angel with you." He insists. "Joaquin and Cruz will most likely be out there, and I don't want you to be alone."

"I can handle myself, Santos." You remind him. "I don't need a man looking out for me." You add, making sure to glance over at Elektra at the same time.

Santos nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "I know, Mi Amore." He assures you. "But please, take Angel and Humberto with you." He asks you. "It'd put my mind at ease knowing that you weren't left all alone out there."

"Okay." You nod. "But only because you asked, Santos." You touch his arm gently.

"Thank you, YN." Santos smiles in releif.

You step off into the other room to get changed into your ring gear. While you're in the middle of changing, Elektra comes into the room to do the same.

"YN." Elektra looks at you with a stoic expression.

"Elektra." You greet her with the same dry tone and look on your face.

Silence falls over the room as the two of you get changed. But Elektra can't help but speak up after a while of the rwo of you ignoring one another.

"This little game you're playing with Santos isn't funny, puta." Elektra turns toward you with fire in her eyes and a sour tone.

"Oh?" You reply with a sly smile. "And what game is that?" You dare ask her.

Elektra scoffs and moves toward you. "He's never going to be into you." She sneers. "Not when he can have me. So you'd be smart to end the game right here and now." Elektra glares at you.

You laugh and pull on your cropped jacket. "See, the thing is, Elektra." You grin, not giving her the satisfaction of stopping what you're doing. "You claim that this is a game. But it's not. See, a game implies that more than one person is playing." You laugh to yourself. "But the truth is, there was only ever one. Because you were never a player to begin with, Elektra." You wink at her and step toward the door.

"Excuse me!" Elektra fumes, but you swing open the door and step back into the main locker room before she can get a word out.

Your match with Zelina is scheduled first, so you pick up Angel and Humberto and head out with them. Your match with Zelina is around 10 minutes long, and you manage to pick up the win against her before heading backstage again.

Elektra's match against Tiffany is right after yours, so she and Santos are waiting behind the curtain when you get backstage.

"YN! Wonderful job out there!" Santos praises you. "You looked fantastic."

"Thanks, boss." You match his grin. "And, hey, I told you that I didn't need the pretty boy squad." You add and nod to Angel and Humberto. "Joaquin and Cruz were hardly any trouble."

Santos nods, aknoledging that you were right. "Of course." He smiles at you. "I should have listened to you." He jokes.

You and Santos linger near each other for a moment before Elektra drags him off for her match. You head back to the locker room with Angel and Humberto so you can change again.

Once you're back in your normal clothes, you head back out to the main locker room just as Elektra and Santos are returning from the ring.

"Hey, guys." You wave at them both. "How'd the match go?" You ask casually.

"Ugh!" Elektra groans and stomps past you.

You watch Elektra slam the door before you turn back to Santos. "She lost. Escobar explains.

"Oh." You nod. "Too bad. Tiffany is really good, though." You shrug.

Santos nods in agreement, and the two of you chat for a few minutes before Elektra comes back from her tantrum.

"Santos!" Elektra whines and walks up to him. "Buy me drinks after the show?" She asks him. "To make me feel better about losing?" She frowns.

"Elektra, come on." Santos shakes his head, putting a few inches of distance between the two of them. "What has been going on with you these past few weeks?" He confronts her.

Elektra's frown deepens. "What do you mean?" She asks him.

"You've been clinging to me like some desperate teenage girl." Santos explains. "And I'm getting tired of it." He admits.

"Are you kidding me?" Elektra scoffs. "YN's been dropping hints to you same as me!" She points a finger at you. "What's the difference?"

Santos scoffs and glances at you. "There's a big difference, Elektra." He insists. "YN hasn't been acting like childish. She flirts with me, yes. But she hasn't been acting desperate. Which is exactly what you're doing."

"Ugh! Whatever!" Elektra sneers and turns to you. "You can have him, YN!" She scoffs before storming off.

You watch Elektra slam the door once again and laugh once she's gone. "Well, that was dramatic." You giggle.

"Got that right." Angel chimes in. "So, drinks for everyone after the show?" He suggests.

"I'm game." You nod. "As long as Santos is buying the first round." You tease Esobar.

Santos chuckles and walks back over to you. "Happy to buy if it's for you, Mi Corazon." He grins at you.

#wrestling #wwe fandom #wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfic #wwe fic #wwe x reader #wrestling fandom #wrestling fanfiction #wrestling fanfic #syd's wrestling fics #wwe #santos escobar x reader #santos escobar

[alittlefanatic]

🍎Shall we Dance? - Ch 2🍎

You can find Ch 1 Here: Shall We Dance - Ch 1

Or here: Shall We Dance - WattPad

This chapter will switch between Wally and the Reader's point of view! This is just to flip back and forth on viewpoints in later chapters! I'll let you know when the POV Changes! <3

Art by: @kluelezz on Twitter

Wally's POV

The morning had arrived as I yawned, my hair in my face as I stretched to wake myself up. It was about seven 6 a.m but I couldn't help but lie in bed thinking about yesterday's events.

After the neighbor and I talked about what we needed for the competition, I went straight back Home in search of records to use. Thankfully I had a few that were in working condition that we both could use to practice, just slow enough to get some footwork down, they were some of my favorite records after all which helped ease my mind.

"I still can't believe they wanted to join a dance competition...I didn't know they were into dance." I grumbled to myself, putting my hand over my eyes. "Have I ever seen them dance before? Why did they even..? I thought they didn't even want to act again in a play, isn't that what the winner is rewarded with?"

My head hurt already, but I couldn't help but chuckle. It was all so silly in reality! My neighbor was always so excited about learning new things, I guess I really should have seen this coming, but still???

Shaking my head, I sat up out of bed, dragging my feet over to the side as I went and changed into my outfit for the day. Grabbing my blue cardigan and red tie, I quickly put both of them on as I sat down in front of my mirror, staring at myself with my hair down.

"I wish my hair could stay up permanently..." I grumbled, grabbing a brush to smooth it out, then tease it out, slowly forming the pompadour on my head as I grabbed some hairspray to keep it still.

"Home, do you recall if we have any books here about dance?" I spoke, and a very soft and quiet squeak was heard from the door as I shook my head. "I'll definitely have to grab some from Howdy or Frank today then. I need to be a good dancer for my neighbor! I can't let them down today! Or ever...I don't want to upset our dear neighbor."

After combing my hair, I headed straight to the kitchen, grabbing some apples to eat as a snack, and I looked out the window. The neighbor didn't live as far, fortunately, but they were near the forest near Eddie's Postal shop.

"It's better to be early than late, I might as well be on my way!" Wally spoke happily, looking at the time which read eight am. "Do I really take that long to style my hair...?" I shrugged. "What can I say, I always want to look my very best. You can't rush perfection~"

With Home opening the door for me, I made my way towards our Neighbors home!

...

Making it to the door, I knocked.

"Neighbor! I know I'm early, but I figured an early start is better than no start!" I spoke happily. I waited a couple of minutes until knocking again. Maybe they were still sleeping?

I heard some feet shuffling behind the door accompanied by a couple of groans, as I heard the click of the door opening.

"God, the sun is bright..." They grumbled, rubbing their eyes. Their hair was all messy and tangled, and it looked like they still had their oversized pajamas on. I couldn't help but chuckled. They looked so silly! Silly, Silly...

"Well, yes, neighbor, it is the sun. What do you expect?"

Neighbor rolled their eyes and simply waved me inside.

"Make yourself comfortable, I have some water beginning to boil for some tea. Let me just make myself look alive." They grumbled sleepily as they went to presumably go get changed.

I couldn't help but look around their place. The walls were a wonderful shade of light blue as there were fairy lights adorning the walls. They had many bookshelves of books, as well as many soft pillows and blankets. Neighbor sure did love to be cozy! I couldn't help but chuckle to myself when I heard the kettle. Walking over to the kitchen, I looked around, grabbing some green tea bags and some honey, I grabbed a mug from the cupboard and put the teabag in along with the hot water and honey.

"Ahh...that feels much better," Neighbor spoke, as I turned to look towards them. I could feel my eyes dilate as I looked at them, absorbing the new information. They had on a rainbow-striped short-sleeved shirt with some blue jean shorts with some black tennis shoes. Their hair was brushed neatly back and pulled back out of their face.

"Hello? Earth to Wally?" The neighbor waved a hand in front of my face as I shook my head.

"Sorry, neighbor! I like your attire -" I coughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of my neck. They looked cute! Cute? Friendly cute! Yes!

Neighbor couldn't help but roll their eyes, taking the cup of tea I laid out and taking a sip. You could see them visibly perk up.

"Oh, that's some wonderful tea, thank you!" They spoke happily, taking another sip as they sighed. "We gotta get down to business today! I have nothing to wear for any of this, and I do have some books about dancing, just not about foxtrot..."

"I'm sure Howdy's open by now if you would like to hurry on over neighbor."

"Might as well! Besides, I want to ask around and see who else is in the competition! Maybe we can catch some of them dancing~" They spoke, drinking the last bit of their tea before putting it in the sink.

"Well, we know Eddie and Frank are competing since, you know... Sally pretty much ran to them after us." I spoke, Neighbor chuckling. "I wonder who else is competing, though, maybe Barnaby and Julie? It can't just be two groups. There needs to be more."

"Well! That's what we can go to Howdy's and ask! Being the shopkeep, others have to get things to right?" Neighbor perked up, grabbing my hand, obviously very excited. "Let's get going then!!"

Without even getting a word in, they dragged me right out the door to Howdy's shop.

...

Reader's POV

Hurrying to Howdy's shop, holding Wally in my hand, I barged through the door, the little bell ringing to signify people have entered.

"Oh? Neighbor! Wally! Welcome to the Bugdega. Can I help you find anything?" Howdy asked happily, fixing his little hat and setting down a box with his other set of hands.

"Hi Howdy! I was actually wondering if you had any clothes or books? Particularly about dancing!" I spoke happily, glancing around the store, walking up to a couple of pairs of shoes.

Howdy couldn't help but laugh. "Sally got to you to huh? I take it your joining in the competition?"

"Yes, we are, Wally is actually my partner!"

Howdy looked towards Wally, then back at me. "Him?? Wally, I thought you didn't know how to dance, nor cared to?"

Wally rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "Neighbor wanted to, and they needed a partner! Simple as that! Can't I help out a good friend?"

Howdy gave Wally a certain look, I figured out Wally's face getting slightly red. "It's not like that!!" He grumbled, turning his head away as I raised an eyebrow, shrugging my shoulders as I went back to looking at the shoes, grabbing a pair of white tennis shoes with a red stripe down the sides. Walking back over to the counter, I put the shoes on them, then went to the books to search.

"Is it so unusual to want to try something different? It's getting hotter out and I'm bored! Besides, a little competition could be fun, and it's good to learn something new. How hard can it be to learn how to dance?" I spoke, finding a book about the different types of dances, as well as the basics, grabbing it as I put it on the counter.

Wally grabbed some water bottles, putting them on the counter as well. "Yes, exactly! Actually, Howdy, we were curious if you knew of anyone else wanting to join?"

Howdy put a hand to his chin, folding his other limbs across his chest. "Hmm... I do believe Frank and Eddie will be entering. I saw those two dancing the other night, as sweet as can be! You know how Frank loves to learn. He probably already has some knowledge, and Eddie is quick on his feet, so that's probably gonna be your main competitors! Other than that, I'm not sure, I believe Poppy was thinking about it but was too nervous, I know she still has time to decide." Howdy spoke as he began to put the items in brown sacks with the Bugdega logo on it.

"Hmm... maybe we can catch them in the act? Maybe seeing how good they are might give us a shot of what we are up against!" I spoke happily, Wally looking over wide-eyed.

"You mean SPY on them? That's not very neighborly! They deserve their privacy!"

"And we deserve to see how good our competition is~" I spoke with a smirk, looking over at Howdy. "How much?"

Howdy looked down at the items. "Hmm... tell me your best joke!"

I paused, thinking a moment. "Why do you tell actors to 'break a leg'? ...Because ever play has a cast."

Howdy erupted in laughter. Man, I didn't even think it was that funny, but his laugh was infectious, and I couldn't help but join in.

"Ok ok that's a good one. Let's hope you two don't get hurt during this. Dance injuries are no joke!" Howdy spoke, waving us off as I grabbed my new book and shoes, Wally grabbing the waters.

"You take care, Howdy! It's been getting hot!" Wally spoke, opening the door for me as we stepped outside, hearing the door shut behind us. I couldn't help but glance towards Frank's house. Wally looked where I was looking and raised an eyebrow.

"Come on, neighbor, let's go put these up -"

"Aww, come on, Wally, I'm sure it's fine to do a little bit of snooping~" I spoke, taking a step towards Frank's home.

"Neighbor, I swear if we don't go back to Home right now -"

I smiled, taking more slow steps to Frank's house before sprinting in its general direction.

"NEIGHBOR- UGH!' I heard Wally yell behind me before following after me. I smiled in victory as I ran towards the tall flower bushes near Frank's home as I knelt down behind them. He kept those for the butterflies and other insects to study. It would only make sense they he grew flowers for the bugs around him.

I could hear soft, slow music play, as Wally finally caught up to me, catching his breath as he sent a playful glare my way. I smirked, sticking my tongue out before motioning for him to be quiet and listen. It sounded like 'Can't take my eyes off of you' was playing, as I heard two voices speaking. Standing up, I peaked through the bushes and fence, seeing Eddie and Frank smiling.

They were both dancing slowly, Frank smiling happily as Eddie looked at him with adoration as the two practiced slowly. You motion Wally to stand up and watch, to which he obliged, staring at the scene ahead of us. He couldn't help but smile softly, and honestly, I couldn't blame him. It was sweet seeing Frank smile, as he often frowned. I couldn't help but be amazed at their dance moves, though. They almost seemed to be pros if it wasn't for Eddie at least, who fumbled on his feet and seemed to mess up on his cues. Frank had more rhythm between the two, but in the moment, it seemed neither of them cared. They were just happy to dance with each other.

Wally and I looked at each other, nodding in mutual agreement to give them some privacy. We sneakily and quietly got out of earshot and began to make our way back towards home.

"Did you see that?? Wasn't that so sweet??" I couldn't help but swoon. I was a sucker for romance. What can I say? I loved reading romance and falling in love with other characters. But loved always seemed to avoid me, maybe one day though someone would sweep me off my feet.

"They are dating after all. Though, it does seem like we have some good competition." Wally chuckled, though I couldn't help but be off in my own dream world.

"I hope one day someone will look at me the way Eddie looks at Frank." I sighed happily, to which Wally chuckled.

"I know someone will. You are the most, I'll say." He spoke simply. I rolled my eyes. He's my friend, of course he would say that!

Finally making it to Home, it opened its doors for Wally and I, as I held onto my book, walking to and sitting on the couch while Wally put the waters on the counter.  "We got some supplied, I got some records. We should read through the books next to get a better idea, yea?" Wally spoke, coming to the couch to sit next to me, as I opened the book.

"Yea, that might be a good idea... I do have some musicals that we could watch as well. If you want to, I could read the book to you, and tonight we could watch some movies? Just to get an idea."

Wally smiled, nodding as he looked towards the book. "That's more than ok with me, neighbor." He spoke, sitting with his head against his hand. I couldn't help but smile as I scooted close to him, as I began to read from my book, feeling a pair of eyes on me on occasion as I spoke. Though it was a small start, it was a start in the right direction. I didn't mind reading to Wally anyway, and based on how relaxed he was?

I don't think he minds either.

Authors note

I know this was a more mundane chapter, but we're going to be getting into more fluff and crushes next chapter, so be prepared~

Lovely original request by @conchoyster

#wally darling x reader #welcome home requests #welcome home x reader #wally darling #welcome home #wally darling x y/n #wally x reader #wally x y/n #frank x eddie

[tsukimefuku]

Right, wrong and the in-between (Part 1)

Previous chapter | Next chapter

You and Higuruma were assigned to investigate the disappearance of women around Shinjuku. This led to a dicey situation regarding what place Jujutsu sorcerers occupy in this world and what is their role to play when non-sorcerers get involved.

This is part of my "Jujutsu Partners Canon Divergence AU". There is currently a sequence of short stories and random drabbles for a fic I'll eventually write (eventually). To see the ever-growing list of one-shots, please visit my masterlist :)  The "Right, wrong and the in-between" will be a 4 (maybe 3) part short-story set in this AU. This is the first part, I hope you enjoy! The tags below will be applicable to every chapter.

Tags: oc/f!reader, soft/implied Higuruma x reader, soft/implied Nanami x reader, slow burn, mentions of violence and non-con/abuse among side characters, canon typical violence, some angst, some fluff, just characters being themselves driving the plot (and me) insane. Some philosophical debate will be in place.

WC: 1.7k

"Well, this looks like a one-man job." Higuruma said, with his small gavel resting lazily on the side of his forehead. You were both seated at the backseat of a Jujutsu Tech's car, and Ijichi was driving.

"Oh, it sure is," you replied, "but you can't be going on solo missions until further notice. So you're stuck with me for the time being."

"Oh, no. I'm definitely not complaining of 'being stuck' with you." He replied, looking at you. "I just think that there's probably a better way of using such scarce resources, like jujutsu sorcerers. This parole should've been over already, that's my point. I already commited myself with atoning for my crimes and fight alongside Jujutsu High."

"Higuruma, it could be worse. You could've been executed." You said, as you put the side of your forehead on the car's window and closed your eyes. "The higher ups are awful like that, I know it firsthand. I just hope they'll all die or go to hell soon enough."

That caught his attention, and made a small bead of sweat appear in Ijichi's temple as he looked at you through the rearview mirror. "You have told me to have your issues with them, but never clarified what they were. I mean, you don't strike me as the type to do something that would render you at risk of getting a death sentence, or anything of the sort." Higuruma pondered, now curious. "So how would you know?"

"Oh, how would you know that about me, now? We've been working together for only three weeks, smart-ass" you said as you looked at him, scoffed and smiled. "If you behave today and I don't get bedridden for whatever reason, maybe I'll tell you over some drinks at HQ, since you're still on a leash. I will get us some beer, and we'll bash on the established power right under their roof. How's that sound?"

He smiled. "Fine. We have a deal. But I get pretty argumentative when I drink, just a heads-up."

You chuckled. "Wouldn't expect any less from you." Even if you were working alongside Higuruma for a short amount of time, you actually appreciated the guy's company — when he wasn't being a risky maniac on the battlefield —, and could totally get behind his disdain for Jujutsu High. You felt that way about them yourself, and with good reason.

After the bantering, you started to mentally go over the mission you were both assigned. 

Many women were going missing in an area of Shinjuku, Tokyo's red-light district, for the past few weeks. It wouldn't be something to be dealt by Jujutsu High if it weren't for the cursed energy traces left around the places these women were going missing from. The disappearances were undoubtedly due to cursed activity, so Higuruma and you were sent out to investigate.

"Ijichi, is there any indication this could be due to a curse user?" You asked.

"No, Ms. Why do you ask?"

You went over some pictures they had sent to you on your phone. "There is no blood, guts, or anything like that in any of these places. I mean, curses are often related to disappearances, sure, but it's not a very curse-like behavior to kidnap people in so many different places through such a large area."

"So a curse user with criminal intent is the most likely scenario?" Higuruma completed.

"Yes. It would make more sense. And considering the area of Kabukicho, it's possible these women..." Your stomach turned on itself before you could finish your sentence. You were all silent at that moment, for you all knew what that meant.

Higuruma sighed. "Yes, it makes sense."

"Oh. Hey, Ijichi, what is Nanami up to? Haven't seen him in some days." You asked. Since getting promoted to a Grade 1 sorcerer, you stopped going on missions with Nanami and were mostly taking on tasks alone until you were assigned to shepherd Higuruma. 

"He's actually working on another mission around Shinjuku too." Ijichi replied.

"Oh, he is?" The excitement in your voice was clear as day, as you said that with a smile. Higuruma looked at you seemingly a little dissatisfied, but said nothing.

"Yes. But he's on the opposite side of Shinjuku, currently."

"Oh." You deflated a little. "Well, drink night with the sorcerers is almost up the corner. See you both there, Ijichi."

He smiled as his face blushed slightly. "See you there."

You looked at Higuruma. "And I hope you're liberated from your leash soon enough, so you can join us too. I'd be happy to see you there."

He was a little surprised as he looked back at you. "Oh. Okay." Was all he managed to answer.

After 6 minutes, you arrived at your destination. The street was covered with signage and neon lights over the buildings, which were all crammed together, in a tight and claustrophobic pack. Since it was still afternoon, there was not much effervescence, given that this part of Shinjuku would become more lively during nighttime.

"Ijichi, we will go looking around to see if we find anything. When we do, I'll cast a veil myself, okay? Wait for us here." You told him, as you and Higuruma started to make your way down the street.

"So, we're looking for cursed energy traces that could lead us to our culprit?" Higuruma asked you.

"Precisely. Be it a curse or curse user, this was sloppy as hell. They left remains in every scene." You replied. "Shouldn't be so hard to track them down."

"Fine, then. Let's get this over with."

***

After some walking around, you both stood in the front of a building that seemed to have some cursed energy traces over the door. They were very faint, but were definitely there. The club was closed, and would only open after 6PM. 

"Well, do you want to look around while we wait for it?" You asked Higuruma.

"Anything to be out of headquarters. I thought I knew what being arrested felt like, but it's so much worse than I thought. Not having the freedom to come and go to places... It's dreadful." He replied, his body trembling unconsciously.

"Oh, really?" You said. "I thought you’d be used to that. I mean… You were a criminal defense lawyer."

He sighed. "Yes. But then I wasn't. It's a matter of will, you see, fighting a broken system from within." He put his gavel away, deducing you both wouldn't be facing any harm anytime soon. "There is no way to win a game when you're bound by the constraints of the game's unfair rules."

"Was breaking free worth it?" You asked.

***

When you were assigned Higuruma's case, to hunt him down, you were briefed on his situation. A curse user that was a lawyer and had awoken his abilities right after a trial, killing the prosecutor and the judge in the process. After that, he basically remained hidden for a few weeks before Jujutsu High located him. He expanded his domain on you and confiscated your cursed technique, but as you both started brawling, a curse attacked, lured in by the cursed energy you were both emanating. In a split second, you told Higuruma to run, and that you would face the grade 1 curse alone. You just felt, right then, that this man wasn't deserving of death. He had killed two people, of course, but nobody actually knew why that happened or even bothered to investigate it adequately. You wanted to hear what he had to say about it.

"You have no cursed technique anymore!" Higuruma shouted.

"Just fucking go! Run! I'll handle this!" You answered, charging to punch the curse with cursed energy. It had multiple arms, like a spider, and it took only one swing to send you all the way across the place, having you hit concrete and spit blood.

Shit. Higuruma felt it would be unfair to let you tackle this by yourself, with no cursed technique, after he was the one who removed it from you. He'd be indirectly responsible for your death, and this was completely different from fighting you and defeating you himself. This miniscule spark of morals coming back to him felt... Strange.

He took his gavel and proceeded to exorcize the curse as you watched mesmerized at how well this guy could fight in a such short amount of time. You texted Gojo asking for help without Higuruma noticing, because in that state, you wouldn't be much use defeating this man. After Higuruma was done, before he could leave, Gojo appeared, and you shouted for him not to kill the guy. Gojo knocked him out rather quickly, and you proceeded to explain everything that had happened, while also requesting his assistance to suspend Higuruma's sentence.

"He's strong. He exorcized this grade 1 curse without my help, and he awakened his abilities a week ago or so." You said. "I think this guy has potential. I talked to him, and he seems... misguided."

Gojo pondered for a moment with Higuruma over his shoulder. "Are you sure? I mean, he's the one that put you in this situation in the first place."

"I'm sure." You said. "Gojo, you saved me from the claws of the higher ups. They're arbitrary bigots, you know that. Please, trust me. Take this as a request from a friend." You felt indebted for that man, guilty or not, had just saved your life.

Gojo sighed and smiled at you, giving you a thumbs up. "I'll do my best. But you'll owe me another bag of kikufuku."

You smiled back at him. "Of course."

***

"I don't know." He answered earnestly, looking at you. "I'm still deciding while I atone for my crimes. After all, I left one broken system and ended up entangled in another. People seem to be terrible wherever I go."

You laughed. "Well, that's for sure."

"Aren't you going to try to dissuade me from that stance?" Higuruma asked. "That people are terrible?"

You scoffed. "Me? Hell no. We're a duo of cynical people. Can't promise to give you back any sense of ideal or anything of the sort. You'll have to find it for yourself."

He smiled at you. "You think of yourself in a curious way. I wouldn't say you're cynical." He replied.

"Oh, really? What am I, then?" You retorted.

At that moment, you heard two voices in the street around the corner. They were indistinguishable, but sounded female. You both approached quietly, and saw a woman in her late fifties, wearing a velvety crimson robe, guiding a lady — who must've been no more than over twenty-years-old — inside the building through a back door.

"Well, that was suspicious. That woman looked like a pimp" you said.

"You're someone that sees things for what they are" he concluded.

#jujutsu kaisen higuruma #higuruma x reader #jjk higuruma #jjk hiromi #hiromi x reader #higuruma hiromi #jjk imagines #jjk drabbles #jjk x you #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento #jjk nanami #jjk fanfic #nanami x reader #nanami x you

[sparklingchim]

long way home 21 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2.7k

genre: dilf!jungkook, friends to lovers, angst

rating: pg

warnings: jaykay being a huge simp for miss oc, he ,,, licks her lip gloss off his face ???? 🥸 don't ask plis, them lowkey acting like a couple but it's all platonic guys !!!!! don't worry !!!! , sad gukkie in the end 😔, his broken heart </3 awakens the lil whore in him 😐

summary: the one where jungkook gives up.

a/n: talking bout this jungkook look in this chapter <3 without the bucket hat tho !!

chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08| 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 |

masterlist | long way home masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

4 years ago

"You're early," you say as Jungkook slips out of his shoes in the hallway.

"Was bored at home so I figured I might as well come over." Jungkook bends down to gives you a peck on the cheek.

"So that's why I kept getting Snapchat notifications from you?"

He stops, leaning away from you. "You saw and ignored me ?" There's an accusatory pitch to his voice, the perfect complement to the frown that slowly contorts his features.

"I'm doing my make-up. I don't have time for your silly snaps," you huff and turn on your heels, heading back to the living room.

Tonight Jungkook, Namjoon, Seulgi and you were going to go clubbing. It's been a while since the last time you went out so you're excited...to get drunk.

You hop onto the little cushion you have placed in front of the coffee table. You've been sitting here for a while, doing your make-up while watching a kdrama on TV.

"They weren't silly. I was showing you my outfit." Jungkook follows you and sits down somewhere behind you on the couch.

You turn around. He's wearing a black t-shirt, plad shirt on top and a leather jacket. The tight, ripped jeans he is wearing accentuates Jungkook's muscular thighs and oh wow, the holes on both knees are big enough to get a glimpse of his thighs and...you actually have to gulp to think straight again.

"I like this," you point out, tugging at the plad shirt. Your voice seems a little thick so you turn back around again and busy yourself with putting on make-up to hide your flaming cheeks. You see a little grin playing on Jungkook's lips through the small mirror placed in front of you.

"You can change the channel if you want," you offer as you put on some (actually, a lot ) blush on your cheeks.

"I don't mind."

You furrow your brows. You look at Jungkook through the mirror and notice that he's still staring at you. "Came to watch me getting ready or what?"

Jungkook shrugs. "Better than lazing around at home alone."

"You should get yourself a girlfriend then."

Jungkook nudges your back with his foot. "You don't wanna spend time with me?"

"No but, you shouldn't feel lonely."

"But it's fine when I'm with you."

"What, so you wanna spend the rest of your life with me?"

"Well, yeah?" He says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. As if he couldn't believe that you'd ever dare to ask him such a foolish question. "Obviously I am." Big round doe eyes watching you.

Instinctively, a smile flits across your face as you register Jungkook's sweet words.

"Kinda rude of you not to say anything back," Jungkook utters in the tiniest pout, mock  offense leaking through this gentle voice.

"Just keep saying nice things like that and I'll consider spending my life with you."

"You act like I'm hardly being nice to you."

"You bailed on me yesterday," you remind him, grabbing the eyelash curler.

"I told you beforehand that I wasn't sure if I could make it."

"Had to get boba all by myself."

"You could've asked Seulgi?"

Yeah, you could've. But it wouldn't have been the same cause you wanted to go with him.

You don't say anything in return, focusing on making your lashes look longer.

"Watchu gonna wear?" Jungkook asks after a while, but you don't hear him. Well, yes you do actually hear him but you're in the midst of coating your lashes with mascara. Definitely not a good time to start a convo.

Jungkook pokes your side with his foot. "Jungkook," you whine and Jungkook snickers at the immediate pout that pushes at your lips.

"That's what you get for ignoring me."

You smudged the brush of your mascara on your eyelid. When you lean back from the mirror you can see how his smile has him scrunching up his nose and how he gloats over teasing you. Asshole.

"Go get me a cotton swab," you demand, tugging on Jungkook's pants to get him to stand up. 

Jungkook pats your head when he brushes past you to get to the bathroom. You shoot daggers with your eyes when you feel his hand, the playful twinkle in his eyes not showing anything remotely close to remorse.

Seconds later he comes back with the cotton swab. "Want me to clean it?" He's standing next to your seated figure, looking hella tall as you look up at him.

"Need to wet it first," you answer, making a grab for the cotton swab, but Jungkook holds it out of your reach. "Huh?"

"Tongue out."

You blink.

What.

Jungkook clicks his tongue, sounding a tad bit annoyed when you don't proceed to do what he told you.

He pops one end of the swab in his mouth for a second and sits down on his knees in front of you, softly grabbing you by the chin to draw your face closer.

Your reaction to Jungkook's weird antics is a little slow - you only manage to squeak "ew" once the wet cotton touches your eyelid. Your fingers fly up to his wrist, though you don't stop him. You curl your fingers around him. "You're so disgusting." You wrinkle your nose.

"I'm just helping you." He mumbles the words to himself and you find it almost adorable how concentrated he is right now.

"Weirdo."

Jungkook tosses the cotton swab on the table after he's done. He remains seated next to you, leans back against the couch and plants his feet on the carpet.

You subtly sneak a peek at Jungkook, his ripped jeans rousing emotions in you that has your skin prickle with a thin layer of heat. Your best friend looks hot today.

Forcing your attention back to finish your make-up, you screw your lip gloss and brush the applicator over your lips. You cover the whole of your lips in the sparkling substance.

"What?" you ask when you see Jungkook staring at you applying lip gloss. You turn to him, holding the lip gloss close to his face. There's a faint dust of pink on his cheeks when you meet his eyes. "Want some?"

He shoves your wrist away.

"Tastes like cherry," you coax him, putting a little more on your lips before you smack your mouth for emphasis.

"I'll pass."

You screw the lip gloss shut and place it on the table.

"Are you ready soon? Namjoon's always on my ass when I'm running late."

"Yeah, just need to change," you reply, leaning on Jungkook's shoulders to get to your feet.

Padding to your bedroom you start to rid yourself of your clothes. You change your bra into a strapless one. Then you grab the black dress from your bed that you selected earlier and quickly change into it. It's a pretty dress you've recently bought. It has a straight neckline and is long-sleeved, but it only reaches mid-thigh and has a slit at the side.

You puff in frustration when you have trouble zipping up your dress.

"Jungkook?" you call him and try with impatient hands to close the zip yourself, but it's no use.

A few seconds later you hear his footsteps on the floor approaching your bedroom.

"What's wrong, baby?" he slowly opens the door and peers in with his head. His eyes are wide when he takes in your whole figure.

You show him the backside of your unzipped dress. "Help me, please."

Jungkook chuckles at your helpless state.

Soon you feel his hand gently pushing your hair to one side of your shoulder. He zips up your dress in a matter of seconds. You don't wanna complain, but feeling his hands on you felt nice. Made you feel fuzzy inside.

"You look really fucking pretty."

The giddy feeling grows at his gaze. You stand on tippy toes to peck his cheek and beam a "thank you".

As you pull back, you see the subtle rosy mark of your mouth on Jungkook's cheek. "Oops."

But then Jungkook swipes a fingers over the shiny stain on his cheek pops his tongue out to give it a little lick.

"What are you-" you stop yourself, looking at him in disbelieve.

"You made me curious with the cherry flavour."

You walk to your bedside table to grab a tissue. "You haven't even had a sip of alcohol and you're already acting so weird."

"Yeah but you're the one who transforms into the weirdest person on earth when you're drunk."

"Pschh," you shush him, trying to wipe the lip gloss off his face as best you can. "We don't talk about that."

Jungkook chuckles and playfully jabs you in the side.

You jerk at that. "Yah, I had enough of that today." You press the tissue against his chest and leave the room.

"Come back to me," you hear Jungkook whine in the back.

~

You're on your third drink of the night.

Despite your plans to get drunk, you're still pretty much sober.

Namjoon has been getting you drinks he thinks are "so goddamm delicious", but every time you have to disappoint him with an involuntary grimace after taking a small sip.

You shouldn't have told him that you wanted to try something new tonight. Because now he's coming back to your table with his fourth attempt to make you like some of his favourites.

"Here." Namjoon presents you another drink. He sits down next to Seulgi. "This one is really good. I promise."

Warily, you give it a try.

When Namjoon doesn't see you pulling a grimace he says, "See? I told you it was good."

"You said that all the times before. This is the fourth drink," Seulgi points out.

Namjoon shrugs. "My job is done here." His gaze wanders from the bar to the crowd of people dancing on the dance floor. He clasps his hands. "I'm just gonna..." He walks into the crowd of people and you hope he won't try to impress a girl with his poor choices of drinks.

You feel the glass slip in your hand as Jungkook takes it. He's been sitting next you all night.

You watch him taste it. "Isn't this a little too strong for you?"

"Yeah, but I didn't want him get me another one. So I didn't say anything."

"He would've spent the whole night trying to find something you'd like," Seulgi says, sipping on her own drink.

"You think we'll see him again?" you ask Jungkook, pointing at the crowd where Namjoon has disappeared.

"Nah, he told me he needed to get his mind off things today."

You notice a guy looking at you from across the club. He's leaning against the bar counter. You intuitively you move closer to Jungkook. He immediately understands, resting his warm hand on your thigh. And as quickly as the guy eyed you up and down he spins around.

Having Jungkook as your friend comes in handy sometimes.

"Oh, me too," Seulgi groans.

Your eyebrows furrow at that. Nothing has happened in her life recently that should make her say something like that.

"Why?" you inquire.

"I'll tell you later." She pushes the glass you had placed on the table into your hand. "Let's get drunk and then dance, please."

"But..." You examine the drink in your hands. "I don't wanna drink this."

"What do you want? Lemme get you something," Jungkook offers. He holds his empty glass up. "Gonna get myself something too."

"Strawberry Daiquiri, please."

As Jungkook leaves, you feel Seulgi's gaze on you.

You cock your head to the side. "What's up?"

Seulgi downs the rest of her drink. "I don't understand you."

Scooting a little closer to her - now that Jungkook's gone, you can feel the looks of many men ogling at Seulgi and you - you change glasses with Seulgi because whatever it was that Namjoon had got for you, it was a bit too much.

"Watchu mean?"

"I just don't get why you and Jungkook don't...y'know, try to be more than friends."

You quirk an eyebrow but Seulgi remains unfazed. She's confronted you with this question multiple times - most of the times with a sharp sideway glance at Jungkook, eyebrows up on her forehead and then back at you.

"Never."

"At least fuck him?"

"Seulgi."

"You don't think he's fuckable? Y/n, please. Don't tell me you haven't been staring at those thighs all night 'cause I certainly did."

"Jungkook is handsome, but that's not the point."

"Then tell me. What's stopping you?"

You tap a manicured finger on the round of the glass. A sigh escapes your lips.

"What?" she asks. "Does he not meet your standards? Is he not enough for you?"

"I - I don't know."

Seulgi wears a questioning look on her face. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"I don't wanna ruin what we have right now." You shrug. "I don't want things to get weird between us. I mean, yeah, I shouldn't assume what could happen without even trying but ... I don't wanna risk anything. Not with Jungkook." You nibble at your bottom lip. "I can't imagine my life without Jungkook. And I don't wanna lose him because of something stupid that could've easily been avoided."

"As long as I have him in my life I don't care in which relation to me. I just need him," you tell her.

"Jungkook's got you wrapped around his finger," Seulgi says.

"No." you frown, deeply in denial. "I just really like him."

You switch glasses with Seulgi again and take a big sip of whatever Namjoon had ordered.

"Let's talk about something else."

~

"I just don't get why you and Jungkook don't...y'know, try to be more than friends."

Jungkook comes to an abrupt halt.

Had he really just hear Seulgi say that? To you?

Jungkook shouldn't be listening on your conversation. He knows that. But he had to know your answer to Seulgi's question.

"Never."

Was this his instant karma for eavesdropping?

Jungkook feels something twist in his stomach with a strange pain.

It's not like he expected a different answer. But maybe there was a spark of hope that made his heart beat a little faster.

He almost starts walking again when he hear Seulgi asking, "At least fuck him?"

And that catches his attention again.

"Seulgi."

"You don't think he's fuckable? Y/n, please. Don't tell me you haven't been staring at those thighs all night Cause I certainly did."

He's noticed your glances. But he didn't think anything of it.

"Jungkook is handsome, but that's not the point."

Jungkook has spent a lot of time thinking about what he could do or change for you to make you like him the way he likes you. So what is he missing?

"What?" Seulgi asks. "Does he not meet your standards? Is he not enough for you?"

Jungkook gulps.

Suddenly the whole club is silent. And he's waiting for your answer. Seconds pass and you don't say a single word.

All at once, every cell in Jungkook's body becomes ice cold and every part of him freezes. His feet are frozen in place. He can't move. Jungkook needs to know what you're gonna say next.

He must look ridiculous right now - standing quietly in a club while everyone around him is dancing, chatting and laughing.

"I - I don't know."

Everything is silent in Jungkook's ears, but at that moment, he heard his heart breaking. Right in the middle. And Jungkook knows he isn't imagining it, because he felt it. It's deep and painful and so intense.

And that's Jungkook's cue to turn around and leave.

Jungkook doesn't allow himself to dwell on his feelings. He shouldn't be having them in the first place. It was his own fault. His own stupidity.

So he walks back to the bar, putting both drinks on the counter. He exhales deeply and stares at the marbled counter to calm himself.

In the corner of his eye sees a woman standing right next to him. Jungkook looks at her. She has a playful, teasing smile on her crimson lips. And soon, he feels himself looking at her the same way.

"Hey," Jungkook says.

"Hi." She bats her eyelashes. "Can I have that?" She points her finger at the Strawberry Daiquiri he had originally ordered for you.

"Of course." He hands her the drink. Jungkook won't come back to you anyway.

"What's your name, pretty?"

She giggles at the pet name.

"I'm Sora."

#jeon jungkook #jungkook angst #dilf jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook scenario #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts imagine #jungkook x reader