#sorry ocs i promise i still love u

[whispering-depths]

I was starting to feel not-so-excited about finishing Tiresia's playthrough, even though I love her dearly and she means a lot to me as a character—she's my chaotic good wild magic sorcerer tiefling who has tried to avoid using her magic intentionally because of the way it's gone horrifically bad for her in the past, although times of high stress/emotion often cause her to lose control of her magic. I was all the way into the beginning of act 3 and romancing Astarion, but then I started thinking about Tiresia and Gale...

and the parallel themes of stability vs. volatility (emotional and magical) present in each of their lives...

how they're both sort of grasping for a sense of direction and self worth after a life-upending tragedy/downfall...

how Gale could try to help her to master her magic and maybe, just maybe, learn to love the weave again...

idk, I just think they'd be really neat together, actually :~)

#i know people talk about the astarion to gale pipeline and idk i think i might be experiencing that right now #i just keep thinking about that sweet autistic wizard and like actually i think he's the one i'd fall for irl. all things considered #sorry astarion i still love u bb i promise #and let's be real i will probably still try to romance both in act 1 bc i can and i do think that would still be in character for tiresia #my ocs #oc: tiresia allseer

[ollyollyaxe]

okay im still kinda new here but i think that hoffheight is probably the most underrated saw ship?? there's so much to unpack here and its all so very fun, the toxic dynamics, the teasing, the super mean thinly veiled flirting, the way you just Know hoffman could throw that twink around like a ragdoll, the shared dog motifs???

#guess im a hoffheight blog now bc they will Not leave my brain #something abt this ship is just so......... ya know #i cannot resist a bear/twink pairing its a sad and simple truth #so sorry to my twink oc - i promise i still love u ollie i Will draw u tying that man up again #anyway

[chryblossomjjk]

practice | jjk

⇢ PAIRING: fuckboy!jk x inexperienced reader

⇢ RATING/GENRE: m/18+ | college au, fwb, smut

⇢ WC: 8.1k

⇢ WARNINGS: mentions of bad sexual experiences, nickname you guys might find cringey (sorry babes), praise, a little degradation, a little manhandling, oral sex (f recieving), fingering, squirting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, very brief mentions of anal play, brief mentions of sex toys and masturbation, spitting, titty sucking, protected sex (hes a hoe but not a dummy), jk is kinda a himbo (scratch that last side note), jk running through twice members lmao sorry girlies, pining, maybe unrequited love, maybe not, ill let u decide, oc is in denial in the beginning, oc has that lemon water coochie!!, daddy kink + daddy kink slander (not seriously!), slight corruption kink

⇢ SUMMARY: you usually spend friday nights on your own. tonight, however, your friend and campus fuckboy, jungkook, decides to pay you a visit.

⇢ NOTES: hi friends!! i’m back with my second fic!! i posted this last night but miss ting had a bad case of the typos rip. so I had it beta'd by @kookstempo pls go give her love >:((( ! i found the smut a little easier to write this time. still not that good lol but not as mentally taxing! oc is totally definitely not a little bit of a projection of me haha thisficwassexuallycathartictowrite i hope you guys like it! i would love to know your thoughts! also would be v cool if you checked out my masterlist. love u bye!!

⇢ SERIES MASTERLIST

It’s 10 p.m. on a Friday. 

The night of the week that lures college students out of their suffocating dorm rooms with the promise of parties and alcohol. After days of classes, hours of studying, and minutes of sleep, most people your age spend their weekends unwinding, hopping from frat house to frat house.

One of the many perks of living on campus is the social life. Being surrounded by young adults is exciting. It also means that everyone is horny. Ravenously so. Seriously. Anything with a hole or phallic-shaped appendage is a prime candidate for getting fucked. 

Anything and everyone, except you. 

It wasn’t that you couldn’t get fucked, per se. Although abundant, your options were limited. Given the environment, it was difficult to find a guy you actually felt comfortable with. He didn’t have to be in love with you, but he did have to respect you if he wanted to get anywhere near your sugar walls. With that being said, it was slim pickings.

You coped well, for the most part. But it was hard to shake the lonely feelings that bubbled in your chest from time to time. And the feral ones. Nothing a quick rub from your petite, manicured fingers couldn’t satisfy, you suppose…

Besides, all men do is disappoint you. The only two sexual partners you’ve had thus far were subpar, to say the least. Greedy. Disgusting. Selfish. Not an ounce of concern for your pleasure. As embarrassing as it was to admit, you’ve never orgasmed from sex. Not even close. That left a sour, lemony taste in your mouth. Ever since then, your pussy was on hiatus, locked away in the highest room of the tallest tower, until a worthy knight came to save it from this tortuous dry spell. 

You sigh, peeling the honey-drenched sheet mask off your face and tossing it into the trash with vigor. You eye yourself in the mirror with a scowl. Fluffy, freshly plucked brows knit together as you examine your appearance. You’re wearing a cropped white tank top, nipples poking through the little animated cherubs printed on the front. The baby pink Sailor Moon pajama shorts on your thighs left little to the imagination. White kitty ears headband keeping those annoying baby hairs out of your face. 

You’re cute, right?

Atleast you tried to look cute.

Your roommate, Mina, was visiting family for the weekend, leaving you the dorm to yourself. Without your extraverted lifeline, you decided it was the perfect opportunity to stay in and pamper yourself. 

You’ve already waxed your body, head to toe, with that expensive sugaring wax Mina begged you not to get. ‘It was worth it,’ you thought to yourself when you had spread your peach-scented lotion on the smooth canvas of your legs after the shower.

You even gave yourself a facial. Extractions and all. Much cooler and more productive than partying and getting laid.

You take your headband off, ruffling your thick hair until it falls into place. You reach for your candy-flavored Laneige lip mask, spreading it across your plump pout with your middle finger. Another overpriced purchase.

You exit the bathroom, shuffling towards your twin-sized bed and then falling face first into the plush, ivory duvet. So comfy. It wasn’t even midnight and you were ready to hit the hay. 

You had planned to study a bit before knocking out, but the warm shower left you sleepy. Plus, the past week has been hell. Two papers and an impromptu quiz from your least favorite professor. You were a good student. A great one, even. But you were an overachiever to the core, and still found yourself stressing over assignments you knew you aced.

You let out a small yawn, squinting at the brightness around you. Along the wall beside your bed were vine garlands, embellished with little fairy lights and pink roses. They were such a pain in the ass to put up. It took you and Mina nearly three hours, and a mental breakdown on your behalf, to stick them against the drywall in the right position. High maintenance, but cute, nonetheless. Kinda like you. 

The lights dim as your mind turns hazy, eventually turning into a silent black as sleep clouds your vision. Sweet, blissful sleep. You were teetering into the REM phase when-

Knock. Knock.

The booming noise startles you awake, rattling the brittle wood of your cheaply built door. The wall hangings flutter in its wake. 

Maybe you were being dramatic. The knocks were actually soft and melodic. Almost cheerful as they followed the rhythm of a made-up song. But you were pissed. Even the most heavenly sound would ring demonic and evil in your ears at the moment. 

You shove yourself off of your bed with an exaggerated groan, stomping towards the door and yanking it open, fully prepared to yell at whoever was behind it.

Jeon Jungkook. 

His expression is blank, doe-eyes widening as he takes in your expression. Your body language radiates hostility and violence. The silver barbell glimmers as his thick, dark brows twitch in confusion. He blinks before opening his mouth. “Hey,” he utters hastily. 

Under different circumstances, you would be ecstatic.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Jungkook?” 

“Woah, someone’s cranky,” he laughs hesitantly. “I was bored. Figured you were, too. Mina is gone, right?”

“Are you drunk or something?”

“What- no,” his plump lips form a pout, the matching silver ring on the bottom corner shining as well. 

You sneer at him, pupils darting over his outfit. Oversized gray hoodie, white t-shirt peeking from the unzipped portion at the top. Gray sweatpants. Your gaze lingers on the tight pull of the material in the front. He doesn’t seem drunk, and he isn’t dressed in his usual party attire. 

“I just want to hang out with you. Why are you acting so sus?” 

You roll your eyes, doing everything in your power to exaggerate your irritation. “Why are you here?” 

“Oh, come on, Bambi. Don’t be like that.”

Bambi.

That stupid nickname. 

You and Jungkook had met at a party after you were peer pressured into a game of beer pong. The super boisterous, super attractive stranger ended up being your partner by default. 

"What do you mean you’ve never played before?" He questioned you, voice laced with devastation when he realized you were about to cost him his undefeated streak. 

Despite Jungkook’s best efforts, Mina and her boyfriend, Taehyung, mopped the floor with you. 

"You know what, I like you. You’re a little bitchy but-,” he slurred at the end of the night, helping you gather the discarded solo cups, "Also innocent. Kinda like a baby deer. What the fuck was that movie?"

You answered him curtly with a scowl. 

"Bambi! Right… I can’t wait to ruin you." He was so wasted that night he ended up vomiting off of the second-floor balcony and onto the class president’s Honda Civic. Not drunk enough to forget the awfully humiliating, yet adorable nickname he had bestowed you. 

“Give me one good reason why I should let you in.”

“I have pancakes,” he beams with pride, bunny teeth peeking out. He raises both arms, showing you the crinkled takeout bags in his hands. “Chocolate chip-”

“That’s disgusting,” you scoff. 

“And blueberry,” he retorts with a squint. “Please? I won’t be annoying, I promise.”

You let out a contemplative noise. It wasn’t what you had planned for the night, but you guess company wouldn’t hurt. Especially his company.

If only you could mute your evil brain. 

“I thought you had plans with whatsherface,” you question, stepping aside to let Jungkook enter your room. 

He kicks his slides off at the door, something you’ve drilled into his head with violent words and empty threats. You remember him texting the groupchat a screenshot of his calendar, tonight being marked ‘PUSSY APPOINTMENT’ with the woozy face emoji next to it. The same one that was inked on his middle finger; it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why. Tonight was one of many slots in his month with the exact same title. That picture was deleted from your phone as soon as you received it. 

“Sana,” he corrects, face unimpressed like he expected you to keep a mental catalog of all his flavors of the week.

You did. Every time a new name was added to the roster, your heart sank. You would never admit it though. 

“I did, but I guess she has a boyfriend now or some shit?” He plops down onto the baby pink area rug beside your bed, immediately digging through the takeout bags. 

“How dare she?” You gasp sarcastically, taking the styrofoam container that he held up for you and sitting criss-cross on your bed.

“I know, right? That’s what I’m saying,” he laughs, opening a syrup packet and pouring it over his pancakes. 

You cringe, foreseeing a sticky, impossible to clean mess all over your floor. “Please don’t fuck up my rug, Jungkook.”

“I won’t,” he mumbles halfheartedly, bringing the pad of his thumb to his mouth. The tip of his tongue pokes out to kitten lick at the sugary liquid before wrapping his plump, pink lips around it.

He sucks gently and then pulls off with a tiny smooch. 

Wow. 

Are you really that far gone? There was no denying that Jungkook was attractive. But were you really that touch starved that you were drooling over every minuscule, minute movement he made? 

“Maybe she was sick of you stringing her along,” you comment, trying to cover up the fact that you were totally just gawking at him.

“Nah,” he murmurs through chubby cheeks, mouth full of pancake. “She knew it was just sex.”

“Did she though? What about Dahyun?”

“Well aware.”

“Jihyo?”

“Yep.”

“Nayeon?”

“Are you slut-shaming me?” He points his plastic fork at you, bringing the opposite hand to his chest in feigned offense. “Because I feel very attacked right now.”

You playfully nudge his shoulder with your thigh-high sock-clad foot, deciding to drop the subject. To be fair, he wasn’t wrong. Jungkook had a reputation on campus. Every girl who involved themselves with him knew what the outcome would be. He was very blunt about his desires and disinterests. Sex being the prior. Commitment being the latter.

But you suppose remaining detached was easier said than done. Something about him was… magnetic. He was bold, yet soft. Obnoxious, but endearing. A sweet talker for sure. And easily the freest person you’ve ever known. Add sex into the equation, and it must be nearly impossible not to fall in love with him…

Hm. That’s enough thinking for the night. 

You need background noise to keep intrusive thoughts at bay. He peeps an ‘I don’t care’ when you ask him what he wants to watch. You take it upon yourself. Sailor Moon it is.

The pancakes keep him preoccupied for a while. You glance down at him every now and then. His eyes sparkle as he watches the cartoon on your phone screen. There’s a little speck of chocolate on the corner of his mouth. His tongue makes an encore appearance, licking it away before fidgeting with his lip. How sinful. 

He starts getting squirmy about halfway through the episode. Antsy hands pull at the strings on the border of the carpet below him. Every now and then he draws a shape and erases it. One of the shapes is a penis, something you’d see on the back of a middle school textbook. 

He scoots with a sigh, pressing his spine against the edge of your bed, and then bending his head back. Fluffy dark strands tickle your legs as he peers up at you. “Can you play with my hair?”

“Why would I do that?” You huff, hot and bothered by the sudden contact.

“It helps me stay still. Please?”

“Oh, um- okay,” you oblige, gulping like you’ve dry swallowed a huge pill. You cautiously card your digits through his hair. It’s so soft and healthy. 

He purrs and closes his eyes. 

He's silent once again, enjoying your touch, even pushing into it a bit. Very cat-like.

That lasts for about three minutes. His inability to not speak every single thought that enters the void of his mind takes over.

‘I just realized they’re all named after planets.’

‘Wait, the moon isn’t a planet, is it?’

‘Why are they dressed so sexy to fight space monsters?’

“Jungkook, shut up!”

“But I’m bored,” he whines. “Is this really how you spend your Friday nights?”

“Excuse me, I’d like to see you take STEM classes for a week and then tell me how you feel,” you contend, leaning over to grab your phone off the nightstand. You don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on your nipples. It makes your palms clammy. “Sometimes, it’s nice to just chill.”

“You don’t masturbate?” He asks calmly as if he had just inquired about the weather. 

You give him an exasperated look.

“What? That’s how I destress,” he continues, shrugging nonchalantly. “Don’t you have a vibrator?”

“I- no! Why are you asking all these questions?” You shriek, absolutely mortified.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” He lifts his head off of your lap, craning his neck so you can see his appalled expression, your answer leaving him equally as mortified. “Damn, that’s wild,” he tuts in disapproval.

“I would rather not have to smuggle a sex toy into my dorm room, Jungkook,” you retort.

“You can borrow mine,” he smirks, turning his body to face you, obviously relishing in the reactions he’s pulling out of you. “It’s a Hitachi. It’s really strong too, like, most girls don’t even last five minutes.” 

“Why do you have- you know what, nevermind actually!” You clench your eyes shut, poking your fingers into your ears and shaking your head dramatically. Your reaction is mostly out of embarrassment and partly because the thought of him pleasing women who aren’t you hurts for whatever reason. “I’m done with this discussion!”

“Seriously?” He wheezes, thoroughly enjoying your tantrum. He wraps his long, nimble fingers around your wrists, pulling your hands away. Your skin burns under the touch. “I want to get to know you more.”

“Yeah, but you don’t need to know-,” you rip out of his grasp, flailing your hands around in circular motions, “-those things.”

“I’m just trying to make conversation,” he frowns. 

“About?”

“Anything.”

“Okay, um...” you look around the room nervously, searching for the right thing to say. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Black. What’s your favorite position?”

“Jungkook!”

“I think missionary is my favorite. Very underrated,” he says, tapping his chin like it’s an answer only an intellectual would’ve given. “The kind where her legs are pushed alllll the way back,” he emphasizes the ‘all’ by balling his hands into fists and lifting them up by his head, showing you exactly where he likes them. “You hit the g-spot perfectly that way.”

You level him with a scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. Unamusement written all over. 

“Why are you so mad?” He laughs. “What? You’re embarrassed to talk about sex?” 

A pause. 

“You’re not a virgin, are you?”

“Jungkook, no…” you sigh, rubbing your temples in frustration. “I’m just not like you, okay? I don’t like sex as much as you and everybody else on this fucking campus does!”

He hesitates for a moment as he processes your sudden outburst. The first time you’ve ever seen him rendered speechless. You can picture the cogs turning in that thick skull of his. 

He inhales sharply, eyebrows raising up to his hairline as if something clicked. His tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek, cute dimple peeping out from the pull. His head drops as he huffs out a laugh.

“What’s so funny, Jeon?”

“Ah, I see now.”

“See what?” You groan, bothered by his vagueness. 

“Here's what I think, Bambi,” he mumbles in a low tone, sitting up from his spot on the floor so his gaze is aligned with yours. His palms are on either of your crossed legs, fingers curling into your white blanket. Forcing you to make eye contact with him- his pupils are black, nothing like the soft brown you’re accustomed to. “You’re so uptight because you haven’t had sex in a while- good sex, at least.”

Your breath catches in your throat. You say nothing.

“The guys you fuck don’t know how to treat you, am I right? They can’t make you cum?”

Crickets.

Your lack of response tells him the answer.

When you do speak, your words come out shaky. “Well, what makes you any different?” 

He shuffles closer, knocking his forehead right against yours, invading your space. He’s so close that you feel claustrophobic. Your heart pounds in your chest.

“I always make the girl cum.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hums through curled lips as he nods, silver hoops swaying at the motion, nose brushing against yours. “More than once.”

His dilated pupils scan over your body, pausing at your chest for a moment, and then continuing their descent. A hand slides up your bare thigh, the warm touch leaving goosebumps in its wake. He grabs the hem of your shorts between his index and middle fingers, tugging gently. “These are cute.” He licks his lips, making them pink and glossy, like he’s ready to eat you. “I’d like them better somewhere else though.”

“Jungkook…”

And then he's kissing you. 

It’s soft, like he’s afraid to scare you away by putting too much pressure into it. Little does he know you’ve been thinking about this for a while.

All your protesting and fighting up until this point was futile. Your hands unconsciously make their way to his cheeks. You swear you feel him smirking. It’s like he can read your mind, knowing exactly how bad you’ve wanted this.

He prods his tongue against your bottom lip, urging you to let him in. You do. He wraps an arm around your waist and guides you down, hovering over you.

“You taste like candy,” he whispers against your lips, hot and needy. Take that, Mina. A sneaky hand cups you through your shorts, right where he knows your clit is. The thin material does nothing to conceal how wet you are. “Do you taste like candy here too? Can I try?”

You’re anxious, but you can’t stop. Not when he’s so enticing. Not when the rumors of his sexual prowess are swimming around in your mind. Jungkook could ask anything of you and you’d gladly obey. You give him a small nod. 

“Don’t be nervous,” he teases through an airy laugh, breath fanning across your face. It smells like chocolate and syrup. He turns his head and presses a gentle kiss on your fingertips. You swoon.

Hooking his thumbs into the sides of your shorts, he pulls them below your butt. He dips his head down, biting into the side of your thigh. A predator sinking its teeth into its prey. Not hard enough to hurt. It’s just enough to rip a whine from you. “Fuck,” he grumbles, pulling your shorts completely off. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.”

He’s been wanting this, too?

“Let’s leave these on though,” he sighs, speaking in reference to your socks. It was something you knew he found sexy, overhearing a graphic conversation with Taehyung about kinks and other filthy things. That may or may not have been the motivation behind your purchase.

You cringe. Being naked in front of someone for the first time in a long time was nerve-wracking. 

“No panties?” Jungkook asks, looking at you quizzically. “Dressed so skimpy, Bambi. All for me?”

“I didn’t know you were gonna show up...”

“Oh shit, you’re right,” he chuckles, caressing your legs with his large thumbs. You appreciate the gesture. 

Cool air brushes against your exposed core when he parts your thighs. His gaze locks onto your dripping center. You whine and cross your arms over your face. Maybe if you squeeze hard enough you’ll revert back into yourself and escape this dreadfully vulnerable feeling.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” he starts, words dying out because his attention is elsewhere. Jungkook has seen a lot of pussy throughout his life, but yours has got to be the, “prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. So fucking wet.” He settles back onto his knees, hooking his limbs around your thighs and pulling you to the edge of the bed. 

Jungkook watches in awe as he spreads your lips open with his thumb and index fingers, stealing a peek at your shiny center. He takes a long, languid lick from your pussy to your clit. He moans when the wet muscle dips between your folds, eyes scrunching as his feature contorts into a scowl. You recognize that face. That angry face he makes when he tastes something he finds incredibly yummy. It’s the same one he made when he ate his pancakes. 

Have you really studied him so much that you’ve picked up on his subtle habits? Nevertheless, the fact that he actually seemed to be enjoying going down on you was jarring. You’ve never experienced this before. It felt so fucking good. You were already close and he has barely touched you. You let out a whimper.

“Mm, you’re so responsive,” he notes, absolutely loving the little sounds you’re peeping. Much different than the blaring moans and screams he is used to. Despite the ego boost they give him, your shy whimpers are a welcomed change. Each one makes his cock twitch, forcing him to bring a hand down, palming himself through his sweats. “When’s the last time someone ate you out?”

“Never…”

“I don’t see why not,” he coos sympathetically, shaking his head in disapproval. He gives you another lick, tongue pressed flat against you. “You taste like lemonade, so sweet.” 

That had you absolutely drenched.

You move up onto your elbows, watching as he throws your legs over his broad shoulders. He licks the pad of his thumb, this time actually sinful. He presses it right to your bud, rubbing it before pulling the sensitive skin taut, lifting the hood and exposing your clit. 

He tuts his tongue, whispering something so quietly you barely catch it, only making out a breathy iteration of the word ‘tiny’. Heavy eyes flicker up to yours as he places two soft pecks on it, then blows delicately.

“Jungkook, please…”

“Sorry,” he chuckles, “I won’t tease-,” sentiment interrupted with an open-mouthed kiss, “I know how bad you must want it.” 

He circles the tip of his tongue on your clit before suctioning his lips around it. You gnaw onto your lower lip, face twisting up in pleasure.

This is easily a far better form of self care than what you had planned. 

It’s obvious that this is something Jungkook does a lot. He is a photography major, and has never struck you as someone who is incredibly bright, but the way he touched is strategic. He has spent the better part of the past decade perfecting his craft, studying the way women move their bodies when he applies a certain amount of pressure. The beautiful noises they make when he stimulates them in certain spots. He has the exact equation to make you fall apart.

There is a pattern to it. He latches onto your swollen nub, cheeks hollowing with a few harsh sucks, before licking over it, letting his tongue dip into your entrance. You can’t help the subtle thrusts into his mouth with every glide of his tongue. The consistency had your stomach doing somersaults.

He sinks further down, lapping at your folds, never straying too far from your clit, burying himself so deep into your pussy that the tip of his nose nudges against it. A big palm slides up your torso, reaching under your tank top to grab at your chest, thumb flicking over your hardened nipple.

“Jung- fuck!” You croak, high-pitched and desperate. “I’m close.”

You expect him to pull away. He, instead, acknowledges you with an ‘mhm’, nuzzling even further into your cunt. 

You can’t help the instinctual, or more so learned, shame bubbling in your stomach. Your hips jerk away. Legs close tight around his head, attempting to save him from the brunt of your orgasm. He simply pries them back open, nails digging into your inner thigh. You grasp onto his hair, tugging it back as you curse under your breath.

He doesn’t like that.

He pops off of your clit with a sharp, annoyed growl. “Can you stop?” The stern edge in his voice makes you flinch, releasing your grip immediately. “You don’t have to control every situation. Just relax.” 

“I’m sorry,” you squeak.

His gaze softens immediately. He didn’t want you to apologize and he definitely didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. “You can touch me, Bambi,” he grabs your hands and places them back on his head, encouraging them to tangle in his tresses once again. “Keep me here, though. Wanna make you cum in my mouth.”

It’s strange, being pampered during sex. Taken care of. 

You peer down at him. His mouth and cheeks are dewy, covered in your arousal. Even the tip of his nose is wet. He’s not uncomfortable in the slightest. 

You push him down, giving him the green light to continue. The descent is quick. Starting in your stomach before it shoots through the rest of your body. You throw your head back, teeth digging into your lip as you desperately try to stifle the lewd moans threatening to escape.

Jungkook guides you through it, slowing down towards the tail end of your orgasm. He pulls away with a satisfied hum, standing up from his spot on the floor. “Taste?” He asks, squishing your cheeks with his big hand. His tongue licks right against yours when you stick it out, lips closing into a sloppy kiss. “Good, right?”

You don’t really taste anything, but you nod anyway. Maybe a slight hint of citrus. Or maybe you were delirious after the best orgasm of your life. The only partnered orgasm of your life.

His eyes are scrunched, but you can still see the stars in his dark pupils as he smiles down at you. You mirror him with the opposite expression, irises wide and blown out. He giggles, nuzzling into the side of your face and then nipping at your cheek. “You’re like a space girl,” your heart melts at the Sailor Moon reference. “So clueless. I wanna do everything to you. Teach you everything.”

“Like what?” 

“Have you ever squirted before?” 

You freeze. “No… I don’t think everyone can.”

“That’s not true. Everyone can squirt with a good partner and the right mindset,” he proclaims enthusiastically, shooting you a thumbs up. The tent in his pants on full display.

“Right mindset?” You giggle, raising a brow at him. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty intense.” He grabs a half-empty water bottle, your water bottle, off the nightstand, taking a big sip. “I can get you there,” he states, a droplet of water dripping down his chin. “You have to listen to me, though. You can continue your ‘girlboss’ bullshit after I’m done with you.”

You roll your eyes. If any other man said that to you, you would be livid. You would literally rain hellfire upon them. But it’s Jungkook. You know he’s joking, and the soft spot you have for him prevents you from ripping him a new one. 

He smiles when you agree, pecking your cheek before unzipping his hoodie and shrugging it off his shoulders. You watch his muscles work. Toned, firm biceps exposed for your viewing pleasures. He recently recolored the tattoos on his right arm. 

You remember him venting about his parents’ disapproval of them, and his major, when he walked you to your dorm after a party a few weeks ago. It was the only time you’ve ever seen the fun-loving, jovial man feel melancholic. You coin that night the night you developed... whatever it was that you have for him now.

“Alright,” he gestures to the cotton sweater, now spread out on your bed. “Lay here.”

“Why?”

“I mean…” he looks at you like you’re stupid. “You don’t want to get this wet, right?” He counters, pinching your blanket.

Cockiness just oozes out of him. It makes wetness ooze out of you. 

You comply, laying down on the soft material. It’s warm and smells like the delicate linen cologne he normally wears. You bask in the scent.

“I usually use lube for this, but…” he clicks his tongue, knowing you don’t have any. “We can make it work.” Leaning down, he lets a string of spit land on your clit. It tickles as it trickles down your folds. He’s quick to collect it with his fingertips, smearing the moisture all over.

“Take your top off, please. I wanna see those pretty tits.”

It’s barely a top. The jagged, raw hem only conceals half of your perked nipples. How ironic is it that you’re wearing an angel print tank while being absolutely defiled. You sit up, taking it off easily and tossing it on the floor before laying back down. 

“It’s not going to hurt, is it?” You wonder, reflecting on his earlier statements.

“Why, you nervous?” He teases with a lopsided grin. It drops when he sees the apprehensive look on your face. “It shouldn’t hurt, but if it does you’ll tell me, right?”

“Right,” you moan, another drop of saliva hitting your pussy. 

“Hold your legs up, keep them open,” he orders, sucking back the extra spit with a hiss.

Pink nails curl under your thighs, bringing them up to your chest just as Jungkook instructed. He pops his middle and ring fingers into his mouth, bringing them down to tease at your entrance before slipping in, palm facing up.

There’s an adjustment period, his fingers being much bigger than your own. You’re so aroused that the tenderness subsides quickly. “Fuck,” you yelp when he starts gently petting at your g-spot.

He doesn’t jam his fingers into you carelessly, an unpleasant sensation you’ve been subjected to in the past. His digits never leave you. Instead, they move in a sensual curl that makes you purr. Every touch is focused, intricately placed on that delicious spot.

“Pussy so wet,” his voice comes out as strained as his pants. He sounds so turned on and filled with lust. It makes you clamp around his fingers. He lets out the tiniest moan, using his free hand to grab yours, sucking three fingers into his mouth. “Touch your clit for me.”

You bring your hand down, rubbing side to side. “Uh-uh, circles.” 

Immediately, you follow his command. You look so delicious he can’t help himself, bending at the waist to latch onto one of your nipples.

“Please, Jungkook, more…”

“Yeah?” He mumbles against your chest, sending vibrations through the sensitive skin. You nod frantically. “I usually don’t give in this easily, but I think you deserve it. Been such a good girl. You can have more, Bambi.” You know it’s just sex talk. A stream of consciousness fueled by his horniness. All the blood leaving his head to fill his cock, making him more dumb than usual, but you can’t help but feel special. 

“It’s going to build up fast, okay?”

You mumble a small ‘mhm’. How bad can it really be?

Jungkook starts moving his hand rapidly, fingers thrashing up and down. There's so much force behind his movements that your hips lift and dip. 

You’re overwhelmed. Constant, vigorous stimulation right to your g-spot. A strange swelling feeling starts pooling in your lower stomach. High-pitched whimpery moans and wet squelching noises fill the room.

“J- daddy, fuck!” It is so intense you can’t form a coherent sentence. There’s faint laughter in the background. “No, no, no…” you plead, wrapping your hand around his wrist, nails digging into his skin. It’s too good. So good that it made you scared.

His movements halt. “Am I hurting you?”

“No, too much… fuck!” You shout when he continues at the same intensity, your body thrashing wildly. You feel out of control.

“Shh,” he whispers softly. “You can take it. Just let it happen.”

You inhale sharply, doing your best to calm down. It’s difficult when he keeps touching you like that. Your fingers curl into his sweater, bracing yourself. As soon as you stop fighting that full feeling, as soon as you loosen the tense muscles, it’s going to hit you.

You relax and a wave of the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt ripples over you.

There’s an intense, world-shattering, euphoric release.

And then nothing. 

Your head is empty. Your ears ring. Your vision is distorted by white splotches. 

Complete solace.

Your senses come back after a few minutes of heavy breathing. It’s fuzzy, but you can see the ceiling fan swirling above you.

There’s a metallic taste on your tongue. 

You can feel droplets trickling down your inner thighs, a damp puddle under your butt, and a warm set of lips on your temple.

“Welcome back to planet Earth,” Jungkook jokes, pushing away the wispy flyaways that stick to your forehead. You blink absently as you slowly make out his features. You swear there’s a glowing aura around him. “You good?” 

“So good,” you confirm halfheartedly. “You’re so good.”

“You came so much,” he hums in satisfaction, placing a few pecks against your jaw. Jungkook was actually surprised at how much wetness he coaxed out of you. You just kept on cumming. The prettiest waterfall he’s ever seen. Damp fingers brush up and down your bicep, a comforting gesture. “You called me daddy.”

“Shut up,” you groan, covering your face. “Don’t talk about it.”

“I won’t, it was fucking gross,” he laughs, smiling down at you so genuinely that it reaches his eyes. This was just a hookup, you assume, but he’s just so pretty. You can’t stop yourself from pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. He reciprocates. It feels so intimate. Too intimate for a pair of friends. You’re so tired but you want more. Everything.

“Take this off, please,” you ball the white fabric of his shirt into your tiny fists, mimicking his words from earlier. “Let me see those pretty tits.”

He quirks a brow at you, standing up straight and pulling his shirt off by the collar. It’s discarded onto the floor, with all the other useless, bothersome items.

His tits are pretty. Chest flushed red from exertion, nipples spiked and tiny. His body is fit, but not overly muscular. Lean and toned. Just what you like.

You snake your legs around his cinched waist, constricting his pelvis flush against yours. 

“Is it my turn now?” He says, loving your sudden burst of confidence. His jaw goes slack when you start grinding on his clothed cock. There’s a slick spot where your bodies meet, heather gray turning dark as the fabric dampens. Jungkook lets you play with him for a bit, rutting against you until he physically cannot stand it anymore. “I’ve never wanted to fuck someone so bad.”

“Then do it,” you whimper, growing impatient. He sighs, hand coming down to fiddle with the sweater underneath you. You crane your neck, watching curiously as he pulls a square packet out of the pocket. 

There’s a sharp pain in your chest when you see it. “Did you plan on us hooking up?”

“Maybe,” he contends playfully. All the amusement in his face disappears when he flicks his bangs back and sees yours. Hurt and disappointed. “I always keep condoms on me, you know that,” he explains, voice soft and wary. 

It makes sense. He was sexually active. Very much so.

That scares you. You could possibly be just another girl he’s sexually active with. A last ditch effort to get laid because the first option bailed. The puzzle pieces start coming together.

You look him in the eyes. His pupils are brown again. They look pleading, concerned for your wellbeing. Afraid they’ve tarnished something so delicate. You can’t tell if it’s just your delusions, post-orgasm bliss. All you know is you never want him to stop looking at you the way he is right now.

“Can I put it on?” You ask, pointing at the condom in his hand, desperate to break the tension.

“I- sure,” he retorts, exhaling deeply like he was holding his breath, relieved. He gives it to you, using his other hand to pull his pants by the waistband, stopping mid-thigh. Too rushed and eager to take them off completely. 

He didn’t have underwear on either.

You squint, trying to read the white font on the packet. Large.

You glance up, eyes bulging out of your skull when they land on his cock. It’s big. So aroused that it points straight up, resting on his abdomen. The tip is bright pink, standing out against the background of his smooth milky pelvis. It’s shiny with precum, a little bead sitting right at the slight. Your gaze trails up the veiny underside, following the acute upward curve. You gulp.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” you say, jittery hands tearing open the foil packet. You cautiously wrap your hand around the shaft. It’s so firm. Rock solid and touch starved. It jumps in your palm as you slip the sticky rubber down, making sure to stroke him along the way. “Big, thas’ all.”

He nods, the corner of his lips pulling up in a smirk. He can tell your words are equally as worried as they are complimentative, though. “I’ll be gentle,” he promises, holding on to your ankle to lift your leg, kissing it through your white sock. Gaze locked on you, making sure you’re watching and that you know he can be soft with you.

He bends both of your knees up to your chest, tapping your outer thigh, indicating he wants you to hold them again. Tattooed knuckles wrap around the base of his cock, laying it flat against your pelvis. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath when he sees the tip reaches just below your belly button, knowing exactly what to envision when he’s inside you. His cock so deep it’s in your stomach.

He smacks the shaft between your folds. Filthy, wet slapping noises overpower your coos and purrs. The tip tickles your entrance, rubbing up and down your folds, before he brings it to your abused clit again, flicking it up and down like a light switch. Watching your face intently to gauge your reaction, looking for any prick of discomfort. 

“Put it in,” you frown, growing impatient.

“So needy,” Jungkook teases, gripping his cock right under the crown and pushing in. Only the tip. He uses his fingers as a buffer, trying not to give too much too fast. Pulling back agonizingly slow and then diving back in, giving you a little bit more length this time. It was only an inch or so, but the stretch burned. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill.

He repeats this process, working you open little by little until he’s buried to the hilt. He lets out a pained grunt, overwhelmed by the way your warm wet walls just suffocate him. “Fuck, tightest pussy ever.”

You clench your eyes shut, trying to ease the feeling of getting impaled. Jungkook is so big. The veins that run along his shaft, the thickness, the curve. He leans down and pecks your nose sweetly. His thumb, rubbing tight circles against your clit, provides a decent distraction. You focus on the pleasure instead of the pain.

“Feel okay, Bambi?” He coos, feeling you relax under him. “Can I move?”

With furrowed brows, he pulls out a few inches before thrusting back in slowly. Heavy eyes glued on the way your lips petal around him when he gives you more. The way they resist when takes his cock away. “Good girl,” he praises, voice raspy as he tries his best to maintain a slow, shallow pace. “You take it so well.”

Any pang of discomfort is gone. He prepped you so well that there’s no friction, just seamless glides in and out of your leaking cunt. The upturned tip of his cock tickles that sweet spot in you. You moan, digging your almond-shaped nails into your thighs, arching your back for more.

Jungkook sees your body language. He knows what to do in this situation. One of the most useful sex tips he’s ever learned. He leans forward, pressing his chest against yours, swollen lips latching onto your neck. They suck a sore spot that his tongue quickly soothes over. “Hold on to me,” he commands, wet pout smushed to your skin. 

You let go of your thighs, leaving little crescent indents on the surface, and throw your arms around his shoulders. Hooking your knees into the bend of his elbows, Jungkook hoists you up effortlessly, supporting your weight with his large palms on your ass. The change in position spreads you even further, slides him in even deeper.

“Mmm, f-,” you moan, words cut short when he starts bouncing you up and down on his cock.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Mmm, I knew it,” he chuckles sadistically, right into your ear. “I knew you were just waiting to be ruined. So fucking high-strung and- fuck!” He can feel your arousal dripping down to his balls. “Controlling.”

Arguing is pointless. You swear he's in your head, the tip of his cock scrambling your brain around so that you can’t even think straight. All you can think about is him.

You cling to him, resting your cheek against his shoulder as he lifts you in the air. Letting him have his way with you. You’re never felt more alive. 

‘Orgasms are the pinnacle of the human experience,’ you recall Jungkook telling you one day at the library. At the time, you rolled your eyes. Now, you know exactly what he meant. 

“You just needed some dick, huh? My dick?” You nod, drooling against his skin. “Doesn’t it feel good to let go?” All you can get out is a little moan.

A glint flickers in the corner of your eye. Mina’s mirror. It’s leaning against the wall right in front of you. You can see the expanse of his back. The taut skin on his shoulder blades. Biceps bulging as he moves you. His pants slid down to his knees, so you can see his cute butt dimpling when he thrusts up. Muscles working to make you cum.

“Okay,” he huffs, more to himself than you. Your pussy was so good that it derailed his original plan. Jungkook tosses you up a little, getting a more secure hold as he wraps an arm around your waist. The motion makes his cock slip out, the loss of contact makes you whine.

His free hand tosses his soiled hoodie out of the way. You cringe, making a mental note to mop tomorrow morning.

He places one of your fancy, cooling-gel pillows on the edge of the bed, laying you down on top of it. Your hips are elevated, tilted upwards. Giving him a clear view of your glowy core. He catches a glimpse of the only place he hasn’t destroyed.

“What about this?” He coos, pressing the pad of his thumb right against your clenching hole.

You squeak, shaking your head. Baby steps.

“Alright,” he chuckles, hand retreating promptly. “Maybe next time.”

He wants to do this again. Your heart flutters.

You watch as he guides himself back in, stuffing you to the brim in one swift motion. Much less cautious than earlier. His cock hits your g-spot perfectly. The pillow and his curve doing wonders. Your eyes roll back as your head hits the bed. “Like that, right?” He laughs, snapping into you. 

“Yeah, Jungkook,” you moan out, gripping your ankles and bringing them up by your head, just how he likes. “Don’t stop.”

He could’ve busted right then and there. 

“Fuck, keep saying my name,” he groans, eyes glancing up to your perky tits, jiggling freely with every snap of his hips. His pupils sneak down further, watching his cock plow into your tight, wet cunt, leaving it dewy.

You call his name like a metronome, ‘Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook’. Voice airy, following the rhythm of his hips. It makes him move harder and faster, feeling that familiar pooling at the base of his shaft.

Just like everything about him, his strokes are fluid. His hips aren’t locked and stiff. They move in a dip and roll that makes your toes curl. His pelvis mushes against your clit when he thrusts all the way in, balls smacking against the curve of your ass. It feels delicious. Your third orgasm of the night is approaching fast.

“You cumming, Bambi?” He hums, already recognizing the way your thick brows pull together when you're close. The way your hips rut a little, naturally guiding you to your orgasm.

“Mhm, make me cum Jungkook,” you mewl.

He hovers over you, placing his hands on top of yours, bending your legs back farther. Taking long, violent plunges into you. So close to a piledriver. He’s basically fucking you into the mattress, bed frame cracking against the wall beside it. One of your vine garlands falls down, but you’re so close you can’t even bring yourself to care. 

Your climaxes blend together. You first, clenching and unclenching around his length. Moans coming out sporadic and your shoulders off the bed. Legs trembling in his hands.

His orgasm is stunning. 

“Ah- fuck. I’m cumming,” he croaks through snarled teeth, head dropping to watch where you connect. Something he does often, you notice. He doesn’t stop, even after he spills into the condom, fucking you until he’s completely drained. You whimper, sensitive from the overstimulation. 

“Damn,” Jungkook huffs out a laugh, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. You fist the wavy strands at the back of his head, a little damp. 

“Thank you,” you speak shyly.

“I know you’re new to this,” he lifts up and looks at you quizzically, amusement tickling his features, “But that’s kinda a weird thing to say after someone fucks you.”

You laugh with him, eyes darting over his face. He has a small scar on his cheek, something you’ve never noticed before. 

“No, I just mean-” you cringe when he pulls out of you, feeling empty. “You’re the only guy who’s ever… I don’t know. You’re just different.”

He smiles with twinkling eyes, tying a knot at the end of the condom and tossing it into the pink trash can beside your nightstand. “You’re different, too,” he mirrors, plopping down onto the bed next to you. “Special.”

Special.

You sigh into his lips when he gives you a soft peck, thumb brushing against the newfound mark of his face. “I’m sorry that I made you do all the work.”

“Nah, don’t worry. Making you feel good makes me feel good.” His words are sweet but there’s a naughty glint in his eyes. “Besides, you can think of this as a practice round.”

“Practice round?”

He hums in conformation, tapping your ass lightly, making it ripple against his hand. “Alright, go take a leak before you get a UTI.” He laughs when you push his shoulder. The same old blunt, shameless Jungkook.

He stops you before you disappear into the bathroom. “I hope this won’t make things awkward between us. Like, we’re still friends, right?”

Friends.

It takes all of your strength to give him a nod. You ponder over his words as you clean up in the bathroom. Why did you feel so... conflicted? You’re so happy, but you’re also kinda sad. It’s like your mood solely depends on Jungkook. His words have the power to pull you in whatever direction he pleases. You stare at yourself in the mirror.

All these emotions must mean you have a crush on him.

You sigh, flicking off the light and then heading back into your room.

Jungkook is hunkered down in your sea of pillows, soft snores leaving his parted lips. Chest rising and falling steadily. Hair messy, fanned around him.

He looks so beautiful and peaceful.

You tilt your head at the sight. He always told you that he never spends the night after a hookup.

The blanket is only covering his pelvis, strong legs poking out from underneath. His sweats are still on his ankles. You giggle, attempting to slide them off without waking him.

“Bambi,” he mutters sleepily, opening his big arms. “C’mere.”

You feel your cheeks heat up. You shuffle into bed, throwing the covers over both of your bare bodies. 

He wraps his arms around you, pecking your forehead before drifting back into slumber.

Fuck.

What have you gotten yourself into?

© chryblossomjjk 2022 [do not copy, translate or repost]

#Jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook #Jungkook au #Jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #bts #jungkook oneshot #Jungkook imagine #Jungkook drabble #Jungkook scenario #bts smut #bts fic #bts x reader #bts au #kpop #Kpop imagine #Jungkook x oc #Jungkook x y/n #bts jungkook

[chuluoyi]

UNHOLY MATRIMONY — 05

✩°｡ ⋆ sinner's punishment

- fushiguro megumi x oc/reader - oc/reader's character name is hara sena, pronouns still refer to “you” and i won’t mention it often—just for the sake of aesthetic rather than repeatedly writing "y/n"

in another life, in which fate is still screwing his life over, Fushiguro Megumi finds himself in an arranged marriage―with you.

genre/warnings: arranged marriage au, heavy angst, minor character death, description of panic attack, mentions of blood, hurt/comfort

notes: if i may be so bold, this is my favorite chapter so far. but please pay attention to the warnings and read with discretion

✩°｡ ⋆ unholy matrimony (masterlist) | chapter four : going downhill <- previous ✩ next -> chapter six : a longer dream

In hindsight, the first person you could’ve called shouldn't be your husband. You could’ve called the police, or informed the jujutsu headquarters that traces of a curse user were found in your mother’s humble cottage.

But you were on the verge of having a panic attack, and the first person you could hold onto was Megumi. He promised to come to you as soon as he finished his mission. And for the next agonizing four days, he was there with you.

And on the fifth day, when Itadori Yuji, who was in charge of this investigation, came to your doorstep to deliver the grim news, you felt yourself shaking, overwhelmed with the beginnings of hysteria.

"N-no..." Your breathing was getting harder and out of control. "T-there must be... a m-mistake..."

"I'm sorry, Sena-san," Yuji drooped his head apologetically and gritted his teeth, seemingly pained that he must be the one to tell you this. "We found the corpse at the west area of the river bank. And we've identified her as your mother."

It started with choked sobs, and then an almost inhuman scream erupted from your throat and you started weeping so intensely that you nearly crumpled, saved only by Megumi's strong grip that kept you from collapsing entirely.

You grabbed a hold of his shirt so tightly that your knuckles turned pale, almost ripping it, looking at him through your torrents of tears. "I-it's not true... r-right? I-it's just a nightmare! Please w-wake me u-up..."

"Sena." Megumi's deep voice resonated, reflecting his own struggle in processing this devastating news. He looked at Yuji, who was close to tears himself, and then at you, before pulling you into his arms tightly.

"N-no!" you wailed, thrashing against his hold. "Megumi! No! My mom―my mother! S-she can't b-be―"

Your mother, who used to brush your hair and pat your back to get you to sleep when you were little. Your mother, who stood against your father because he would marry you off to some bastard who could make your life hell and got shut away. And your mother―who cried in relief on your wedding day, realizing that you would be in good hands with Megumi.

The reality of her death suddenly hit your conscience, sinking in with profound gravity. You began to wheeze, your screams and sobs merging into a cacophony of anguish. You nearly passed out in Megumi's arms as your ability to stand forsaking you entirely, but he still refused to let you go. He continued to hold you, pressing you tightly against his chest, even as you sank to the floor and pounded his chest in agonizing despair.

"Cry it out," he whispered. "Don't hold back. Just cry. It’s alright."

How did it come to this? Who in the world would murder your kind, loving mother? Why did it have to be her? What had she done so wrong that she deserved this?

Or was this karma? A divine punishment? For trapping the unaware Megumi into this marriage?

You couldn't think straight, the sheer pain of it all numbed your very being and you wanted to die too along with her. Even when you knew you were using him, you couldn't help but hang on Megumi's strong grip as you cried your heart out.

The first days after the news broke were excruciating for Megumi as well.

He felt his chest ache whenever he saw you sobbing and crying in pain nonstop. It was a new form of torment, seeing you like that. He wanted to somehow alleviate your pain, albeit a bit. Or do anything to help you at all.

The preparations for the funeral mostly fell to him as you barely functioned. You were even more inconsolable after you saw the sight of blood on the white blanket that covered your mother in the autopsy room―you insisted on seeing her one last time, but you completely broke down afterwards and didn't dare to lift that piece of blanket. You feared the sight to remain in your nightmares.

And Megumi understood that. If he were in your position, it would destroy him too. Even though he had forgotten how his mother was like, he figured that should he lose Tsumiki this way, he could very well go feral altogether.

There weren't many that attended the funeral, and by the last day, your crying had subsided, replaced by this eerie silence and blank stare. You were dressed in all black and barely said a thing or two to the mourners. The only time your eyes glinted with something other than voidness was when your father had the audacity to come and pay his respect before the altar.

Cold fury. Megumi never saw you like that. You surged with so much hatred that when your father asked if you were okay you just turned your head away and refused to give him an answer.

"Please... look after my daughter," your father, the Hara clan head, said to Megumi outside the funeral house as the last of the mourners of the final day. He had looked so concerned and Megumi didn't have the heart to turn him away. He just nodded and bid his farewell curtly.

He would. Of course he would. What sort of husband would he be if he didn't?

When he got back, he found you staring at the altar in total stillness.

"My mother..." You croaked out, strained and barely audible. It was the first time he heard you saying something today other than many hollow “thank you” you muttered to each attendee. "She said... she'd rather take her own life rather than seeing me be married to Naoya."

Megumi's jaw tightened. Your voice radiated so much pain that it made his chest constrict and his desire to embrace you intensify. He approached you cautiously, aware of the anguish you were going through.

He turned to face you. "She was a great woman."

"She―was," you were quick to force the word out. You still looked so utterly heartbroken, but it seemed like you no longer had tears to spare. "I'm... going to find whoever did this," you muttered next, voice lacing with steel. "I won't let them free. I can't―this is the least I could do for her."

He nodded. Of course, he would extend his help too. All evidence pointed to this being the work of a curse user, which meant it wouldn't be long before you could find them.

It was easier said than done. Coming to terms didn't mean you would be able to go back to the way things were. A part of you was permanently shredded, and it would never be the same anymore. Megumi realized it firsthand when one night, a little over a week after the funeral, he heard quiet whimpers from your bedroom.

Truthfully, he also felt a sense of emptiness as well. Even though he didn’t know his mother-in-law that well, he remembered seeing her soft smile for him during the wedding, and of course the fact that she had sent many boxes of oranges just for you. He knew for a fact that she loved and cherished you so much.

And so, he tapped lightly on your door. Because the urge just got too much, and seeing you in grief made something in him want to rush to your side just to make sure that you were okay.

“Can I come in?”

Meanwhile inside, you had dampened your pillows with tears due to the dream of your happy childhood that just woke you up. Megumi's voice startled you as you tried to compose yourself.

You had noticed it. He had become even more considerate for you as of late, perhaps driven by sheer pity or sympathy. You didn’t care which—the fact that he did at all warmed your heart in a way you wouldn’t find the correct word to describe with, and you were grateful for his unflappable presence.

You wiped away your tears, and replied. “Yes.”

Megumi entered your room then, in his black sweater and visibly weary eyes. Despite his exhaustion, his concern for you was evident as his gaze met yours. “Are you alright?”

“…I’m fine. Sorry if I woke you.”

“No, I was getting the water,” he explained. “Do you have trouble sleeping?”

“Oh no... Not really.”

He hummed. “Want some company?”

You blinked. You would have never expected that Megumi would willingly offer you his presence just because he heard you sniffle to yourself at the dead of the night.

It was tempting—to continuously take advantage of his kindness. You knew it wasn’t right. You swore you knew.

But tonight…

Fushiguro Megumi is still your husband. By name and law it might be, but he did all his husbandly duties perfectly regardless. He was there to defend you, and hold you when you lost the only thing that mattered in your life.

And so as any wife would, you took up the offer of being in his presence. “Yeah.”

Megumi closed the door to your bedroom and studied you intently, his dark eyes narrowing. "Have you eaten tonight? I'm sorry I missed dinner. My mission ran late."

You found comfort in that simple question. "I didn't have the appetite. Anyway, it's okay."

His brow furrowed at your answer. "You can't go without eating anything. You'll get hungry and miserable."

To your surprise, Megumi left your room and then returned promptly, holding a box of cheesecake from a popular bakery in his hand.

"When did you get that?"

"On the way after finishing my job," he replied curtly, offering the treat. "Here. Eat now."

You were slightly taken aback as the pretty cheesecake was now in your hands. "It's midnight. I'm going to build up calories," you whined but clamped your mouth shut when he threw you a withering look. With a sigh, you pierced the fork through the fluffy cake and took a bite.

It was tasty, and you shyly indulged in another bite as Megumi smirked, as if silently conveying an "I told you so."

"No longer feeling as miserable, are we?" he asked with a hint of laughter.

You just hummed in response, avoiding eye contact. He chuckled. "Good then. I'm glad you like it."

It occurred to you that Megumi actually didn't like sweet things. He always took his coffee black, and he rarely ate the pastries you'd bring back. So he must have bought this with you in mind.

A warm feeling enveloped you, realizing that someone still cared about you enough to consider your feelings and bring you comfort.

"Thank you, Megumi," you mumbled, looking down at the half-eaten cake. The loss of your mother still stung you and in the darkest corner of your heart, you barely managed to find the will to continue living. But Megumi's presence made it better, a hundred times over. And most of all, you feel safe with him.

"Don't mention it." He breathed a sigh of relief.

It wouldn’t have been easy, and he knew it was going to take time. Healing was a process, and he was willing to be there every step of the way.

“Your eyes are red,” he pointed out. “Do you want me to get you a cool compress?”

You responded while still chewing the cheesecake. “Mmm, no. That’s okay.”

“Don’t be stubborn. Last time you didn’t listen to me, you almost tripped if I didn’t catch you.”

“That’s purely by accident! And hey, did you remember when we—”

That night, you and Megumi sat together on your bed, reminiscing about various things before eventually basking in comfortable silence. You didn't know when you started getting sleepy, but you did and the next thing you knew, in the morning, the first sight that greeted you was Megumi's sleeping face.

He was here the entire night. And you realized that with him here, you were no longer overcome with the urge to weep as much.

What is this feeling? Why couldn't you take your eyes off him?

Megumi is fairly attractive. He looked grumpy and unfriendly by default, but even then he was still handsome. And now that he was defenseless like this, he looked soft. It was the sight only you, his wife, got to see. No one else could come close to see him like this as you did.

Because you are his wife, and he is your husband.

In this very marriage that you instigated.

Your chest twinged as a wave of guilt washed over you. How could you forget that? You were a sinner. All of this pain and suffering—you had brought it upon yourself, and your mother had paid the price.

A fresh wave of tears welled up in your eyes. Your sweet mother. She was the reason of this whole sham marriage. Now that the reason no longer existed, there was truly no need for either you or Megumi to continue on this path.

It felt even worse because you were falling for your husband. You might have deceived yourself until now, but this was an undeniable moment of truth. You weren't exactly sure when it had started, but you had willingly let Megumi capture your heart and have it. He was blunt but reliable and treated you well. Truth be told, you were genuinely enjoying this new life too.

But this has to stop. You couldn't fool over him forever. For his sake, you had to let him go.

Today was Sunday, so neither of you had to work. You had gone to the kitchen to ponder how you should bring the topic up when he stumbled in, still looking half-asleep.

"Ah, I fell asleep in your room," he remarked, yawning. The sight tugged your heartstrings because he looked so unguarded. You wanted to smother him, hug him, kiss him even―

No. This fantasy ends here.

"Megumi," you began, your tone carrying an edge that instantly put him on alert. "We need to talk."

He visibly frowned. "Yes?"

And nothing would've prepared him for the words coming out of you next.

"I think we should get a divorce."

✩°｡ ⋆ next -> chapter six : a longer dream

🏷️ taglist

@moonmalice @hellothere9597 @qtnfer @firstplaidpeachnickel @waddlingwanderer @chilichopsticks @satorus-slut @dcvilxswish @lees-chaotic-brain @tojirin @bluebreadenthusiast @pandabooster @cole-silas @becsmarvel @giuli-in-earth @fuckimgenderfluid @haitanisrarity @kimura-uzuri @bicchaan

#fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #fushiguro megumi x oc #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk imagines #fushiguro megumi angst #fushiguro megumi x you #fushiguro megumi fluff #series: unholy matrimony

[just-some-random-blogger]

hello gorgeous! if you don't mind modern au, i have an idea. if you don't feel like writing anything it'd be great to hear your thoughts abt it. daemon x wife!reader (who's somehow connected with magic but not targaryen) who are devoted to each other like madly in love. before daemon has to go to war they're saying goodbyes kissing, crying and not being able to let the other go. feeling like something's off he says smth like "i'll find you in another life. i'll find you in any time we'll be existing. i will love you any time i am alive" (in high valyrian or calling her some name in it) kissing her knuckles and going away. unfortunately, he was right. reader died some way while he was away and he remains faithful to her for the rest of his life (oc but whatever) and in the modern world he does find her. maybe targaryens are some sort of royal family, maybe they keep a family business or an ordinary family with lots of relatives. but he fins the reader and they somehow just feel. sorry if it's too much. i'd really like to read something about it but it absolutely ok if you don't feel like it. thank u in advance! take care!

Waiting For A Lifetime

Part 1 2 3 ?

Daemon Targaryen x Reader + Aegon Targaryen x Reader cos it just sorta happened

Summary: Overcome by grief, Daemon turned to black magic to revive you. Moved by pity, the witch who casted the spell promised you would live until you met your love again in his next life.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Modern AU, fem!reader, mentions/depictions of death/still birth/war, my pretty boy aegon whom i would die for, angst, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: i saw this last night when i woke up in the middle of my sleep and couldn't stop thinking about it. I changed a lot about your req nonnie. I do hope you still like it though. I absolutely could not help myself with this one and I got so carried away T_T also a lot of facts about the Targaryens have distorted so just just just roll with it ok ok ok thank you And yes i know this is a gif from the crown but i love it so much the hat falling off the kiss ITS EVERYTHING I WANT TO BE HERRRRRRRRRRRRR also i do acknowledge the fact that this anon came to me with this idea after i reblogged this amazing moodboard sooooo yeah i think this post sparked this fic idea lol ALSO ALSO ALSO 2022 MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!! LOVE YA ALL imagine seeing this post in like 2032 or smth shit thats like 35 years from now Tagging: @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony pssst i made p2 "Never Before"

Daemon's face was streaked with tears and sorrow. His eyes were bloodshot and his voice was as sure as it was grave as he repeated the word he uttered to the shaman, "anything."

She looked at him, able to taste the desperation in the air, "even if it costs your life, prince?"

Daemon looks at his love before him, his love that was carrying his child. He places his bloody palm on the gaping wound on her stomach.

"Your child will not live even if she does."

Daemon screws his eyes shut tightly. He begins to quiver in anger, in grief, in pure sorrow. He mutters, "anything," he slowly opens his eyes to gaze upon her lifeless face, "better it me than her. There is no world worth living without her."

The woman narrows her eyes at the prince. She knew he was the Targaryen, once heir, known to be rugged and harsh. The Rouge Prince. Yet, there was no trace of malice within his being, only what she would describe as true devotion, true love.

"So, may it be done by the gods old and new," she says, drawing the prince's attention to her, "I will plead for her soul that she may live."

Daemon watches the witch, as she stands to her feet from the ground they were both sprawled on, in front of the body of the dead woman.

"I will plead that she may live long enough to meet you again in another life, so that you may have the love you have now once more."

"Another life?"

"Yes," she says, "the gods recreate humans they are pleased with to grace the earth again. I am certain they will let you be reborn to be with her again. I will make it certain."

Daemon grabs the cold hand that was beginning to stiffen.

"Although, I am unsure if they will allow you to remember her."

"I will remember her," Daemon retorts, kissing the hand of his love, "I will remember her no matter form I take... I will, I must."

"So it remains to be seen," she says before speaking out her incantation.

And it would not be seen until nearly 2000 years later.

The times have changed drastically. Women wore pants and voted. Men where made to take more responsibility for their actions, though still got away with things.

And yet...

... my love for him never faded.

Every prince that was born and named Daemon, I hoped would finally be him. It went about like this century after century, war after war, plague after plague, rise after fall. I had feared the Targaryens would die out, but they proved to be as strong as the very foundations of the earth.

And it took the televised of the marriage of Viserys XXIX to Duchess Aemma of Eyrie for me to see the face of my love: Daemon, the Wild Child, the Knight of Knickers, as penned by the press. Ultimately, the prince of my heart.

I burst into tears when I saw his cheeky face as he nudged his brother at the isle. I pressed my hands on the screen, thinking to myself, the wait was finally over, he was finally here.

All that was left was for me to meet the Prince of Valyria.

Yes. That would be no problem at all.

Except it was, because Daemon was just as mad as he was in this life as he was in the last.

After all, he did not get those nicknames from the press for nothing.

I used up so many of my resources to even just get a glimpse of him. It was hard to catch him in one place. I mostly caught him with a scandalous headline in the cover of magazines and newspapers.

Tonight, it was a newspaper.

"You know," the bartender taps his finger on my newspaper that was sprawled out on his bar, "he's a frequent here."

I turn to the blonde, in his white dress shirt, black waist apron, and black slacks. I raise a brow as he purses his lips as though the information was ground breaking. He wipes on a glass with his blue towel.

"Gee, Aegon," I lean on the surface before me, "I would have never guessed that from the picture on the wall."

I nod at the said picture. It's one of Daemon and the current owner of the bar, Tywin Lannister, who also happened to own Lannister Land Corp, shaking hands. Oh, Lannisters.

"Hey," Aegon shrugs, pulling his lips down in a nuff-said manner, "it had to be said, since you're literally the only patron here that has not interrogated me with questions about the Knight of Knickers."

I snort, "then allow me to change that," I rest my head on my hand, "is he truly so dashing that his looks practically steal the knickers of the ladies around him?"

Aegon finishes buffing his glass and puts it down, looking up in thought, "mmm, I think it's mostly cause he's a prince that he's got the effect he's got. I've got no idea what possessed the first girl to throw her panties at him."

I giggle, "are you saying the prince is ugly?"

"Bit harsh, innit," Aegon pulls back, getting another glass, rubbing it down with his towel, "your words, not mine."

I roll my eyes, shaking my head, as I laugh at the light haired boy's muses, "you know, if we had been living at the height of the Targaryen rule, Daemon would have had your head for that, pretty boy."

"Gods, to be beheaded," he sighed, "a dream, rather than working here, taking about some monarch who lives off the money of the people."

I snort once more. Aegon's face softens as he breaks into a laugh himself.

"No, but honestly," he says putting down the glass and the towel, "you, my dear, are my saving grace. The highlight of my begrudgingly stretched out day," he stretches out a hand to me.

I chuckle at him as I take his hand. He presses a kiss on the back of it, making me grin at him in amusement.

"You're the only sane person here," he releases my hand, "everyone else is so desperate to brush shoulders with the prince, or simply even catch a of whiff of his flatulence."

I break out into a fit of chuckles, slamming firmly at the wood between us.

"No, I'm serious! I heard the fittest gal, a total bombshell, boasting with pride about how she managed a sniff of the bloke's fart."

I'm wheezing with laughter, unable to believe what I'm hearing.

Aegon releases a deep and dramatic sigh, "what has the world come to?"

I wipe a tear as Aegon watches me empty myself of laughter. His face crinkles in a pleased expression, Adam's apple bobbing as he chuckles airily.

I sigh, catching my breath, "well, if I ever become that desperate, I ask that you pray for my soul."

Aegon presses his palms together, "praying for that girl as we speak."

I chuckle, folding the newspaper before me, "I must say, I am actually desperate to meet the wild child myself."

Aegon drops his hands along with his humored expression.

I cannot help but laugh at him as I continue to fold the paper, "though, I would say I am the desperate kind that is so desperate..." I eye him as I press the grey material together, "that I, somehow, dread to meet him at all."

Aegon snorts, screwing his eyes shut as he wipes his face, "the Stranger. Don't say things like that! I nearly had a heart attack believing you."

"No, but it's true, Aegon!" I say with a faux wounded pout, "prince Daemon is my great love, we have been destined to meet for millennia!"

Aegon leans on the table, humming as he nodds his head, "yes, and I suppose I am Aegon the Conqueror."

I lean towards him and grab his jaw, "no, you look more like Aegon II. The spitting image, I dare say."

He scoffs, swatting me off, "I'm hotter than him."

I pull away, "yes. That I can agree with, pretty boy. Personal hygiene does wonders."

Aegon snorts and plays off the blush on his cheeks by wiping his nose with his thumb, "you speak as though you met him."

I straighten up, "that's because I have. He was once my nephew."

He narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. His face contorts at the thought.

I raise my brows at him, "have I not told you I am not only a Targaryen historian, an expert at that, but I am also a patron of the Museum of Ice and Fire? I'm married into their family."

"Okay," he raises a finger, "ew."

I snort.

Aegon lifts his jaw and hums, "well, now that you mentioned it, I always knew you were one of those insanely rich blokes who frequent here. I was thinking you were a mafia boss or something though."

I scoff in amusement, raising my brows at him.

He pushes his white sleeves up then raises his hand in defense, "you have a very intense aura about you."

"That's because you trigger my fight mode," I retort.

He huffs, "do I? I'm scared to know what you'll do to me when I've seen what you do to men who hit on you."

"Aww, don't worry," I coo, "I wouldn't hurt my pretty, baby boy."

Aegon doesn't get to reply when a customer calls his attention. With this, he pulls away and leaves me to my own devices.

We don't get to continue our conversation at all, for it was clear that the rush hour had begun.

I eventually pulled back and decided to entertain myself while my favorite bartender was busy. I swiveled on my stool, looking out to the room, spotting the jukebox collecting dust in the corner. I smile at the sight of it, thinking about how it was still here after all these years, in spite of being older than Aegon.

I stand from my seat and walk over to it.

Aegon, finding one patron missing, frantically looks around then calms, raising a brow.

I place my hands on the jukebox, bending over to check if it was plugged in.

Aegon snorts as he hands a man a beer, eyes not at all fixed on him, "that doesn't work, love."

"Mmm, ye of little faith."

Aegon is annoyed by the man that sits on the vacated stool, blocking his vision. In retaliation, he blocks out the sound of his voice. Aegon calls out, "if you can make that hunkajunk work, I'll clear your tab for you."

I chuckle as I pull the machine forward, checking its wiring, "I wouldn't want to make a kid working on minimum wage to pay for me at all."

"I only said I would clear your tab, doll face," is all he replies before he goes back to tending to drinks again.

I break into chuckles as I fiddle with the wires on the back. I admit, it took me quite a while to go through everything, which was why Aegon warned that he would not call an ambulance for me if I got electrocuted.

The sight of the jukebox coming to life was enough to shut him up.

I get to my feet with a huff, brushing my hands off with each other. I turn to Aegon, who was already looking at me in astonishment, along with a few other people in the room.

I smirk, "my tab then?"

"Good as gone," Aegon shakes his head in disbelief, cutting his hand across his neck.

I release a satisfied sigh as I punch at the hardened buttons and play whatever it was that was available to be played.

When the music starts, I close my eyes and allow myself to drift off with the music. The sound brings back some memories I had in the 1940's. If I recall correctly, it was around this time Daemon's father, King Baelon, was crowned.

I slowly moved to the rhythm of the song, swaying my hips, waving my extended arms out as I made my way to the center of the room.

Aegon stilled in his spot upon seeing this. His breath caught in his throat and he was only brought back to reality when someone demanded a gin. He looked around the room as he poured that idjit his drink and clenched his jaw tightly when he saw the onlooking crowd.

He snorts loudly, grabbing his towel, throwing it over his shoulder roughly, clearing his throat with more noise than necessary.

I smile to myself when I hear Aegon's familiar coughing. He had a tendency to do this whenever men around me started to be a bother. And I loved him dearly for it. He was a sweet boy.

With my eyes still closed, I continue dancing to the soothing song. My smile grows bigger when a section comes that tickles my musical senses. I chuckle as I twirl in my spot.

When I felt a hand come to my waist, I didn't have to open my eyes to know it was Aegon. He wouldn't have let anyone come near me at all without barking up a storm.

I hummed at the scent of him, familiar yet foreign to me at once. He must have changed his cologne. I prefer this one better. He pulls me close when I reach out to him, grabbing one of his hands and placing a palm on his shoulder. His dress shirt is softer than what I imagined it to be.

I am surprised when he leads us into a ballroom dance. In fact, I am so shocked, I open my eyes and see a blur of his white shirt and blonde hair as he spins me around.

I break into a fit of chuckles, screwing my eyes shut in pure bliss when he dips me, "I had no idea you were a dancer, pretty boy."

"Yes, well, journalists don't find it interesting enough to write about."

My eyes burst open at the sound of the deep voice.

My heart is pounding at the sight of the smirking man with silver hair. I nearly faint at the violet irises so close to mine.

"I do say," his hot breath fans on my face, "if we were spotted by one now, they'd have a field day."

I jolt upright and shove the man away. He doesn't seem to be offended by my harsh actions, and, in fact, chuckles as he reels back from my action, "not what I had expected and not the reaction I usually get, but there's a first for everything."

My breath hitches when he smiles at me. I turn from him, to Aegon, who was staring coldly from his place behind the bar. It seems the rest of the people here were doing the same as well, gobsmacked by the presence of the man in the middle of the room

I roll my shoulders back, turning to my dance partner, "Prince Daemon," I mutter, bowing my head slowly, "pardon my rudeness."

He chuckles, waving me off as he stuffs a hand in his pocket, "oh, no need to be so formal, my dear. I can understand the shock," he tilts his head at me, lips still curved, "you surely weren't expecting to be dancing with the prince and thought me to be someone else, no?"

I look at him and stare in silence. For the first time in my life, I was at a loss for words.

Everything was suddenly so real, and it was making my mind and my heart race.

Aegon watches this and clears his throat loudly.

It does not help anyone.

Daemon raises his brows at me in expectation, placing his other hand in his pocket as he leans on one leg.

I open my mouth. A second passes before I mutter, "I thought you were my pretty boy."

His lips spread into a toothy grin. Airy chuckles leave him, "I can be your pretty boy."

When he extends his hand out to me, it was like the heavens opened and I could hear the angels sing.

This was the moment I have been waiting for since that day that I came back to life and kissed him goodbye with a promise of finding him in his next one.

My breath was heavily taxed when I lifted my hand.

My soul nearly leaves me when I jolt in shock over the sound of a record scratching and jumping, repeating over and over again.

In that moment, I am hit by an epiphany. I am so overwhelmed with emotions that I could barely breathe. The sight of Daemon before me brought tears to my eyes. This was all I ever wanted, and yet-- and yet-- I was drowning. I could not breathe properly.

"I..." I shudder, making Daemon's face fall, "I have to go," I mutter through a strained breath.

Daemon knits his brows, shifting in his spot with his hand still out, "what?"

Aegon watched with tightly knit brows as I ran out of the room.

The prince drops his hand and spins on his heels, eyes locked on the runaway. His nostrils flare as his face contorts in confusion, "wait! Stop! Where are you going?!"

I heave heavily as I push past people on my way out. I am absolutely winded when I exit the establishment, hands shivering from both the cold and the nerves that were getting to me in this moment.

I walk aimlessly farther out, down to the lawn that was now dark, since it was gods-know-what hour.

"Wait!"

My heart drops.

I spin around when someone grabs my wrist. My heart is still quick in my chest when I see Daemon, heaving. His short, light hair was slightly tousled in its place. He knits his brows at me, tilting his head, "you dare leave your prince, Cinderella?"

My jaw hangs low.

He releases a sigh, shaking his head, "I forbid it."

Seeing him here and now made everything feel more Real with a capital R.

Daemon adjusts his grip on my wrist, pulling his hand back, so that he was now holding my hand.

I look at him, blinking the glassiness of my eyes away, still in shock of his presence. A million questions were running through my head, and I was glad to be able to even have the mind to ask one in this moment, "do you know me, Daemon?"

He tilts his head upon hearing this, brows knitting, lips curving. He releases a chuckle at the lack of formality and how haphazard the question was, but finds himself further drawn because of it, "no," he shakes his head, "but I would love to know you."

Hearing the words come out of his mouth shatters something in me.

He did not know me.

I turn away from him as I try to even my breath. I retreat my hand and step back as a shiver runs down my spine.

And yet here he was, chasing after me.

Daemon steps forward to make up for the space between us, "don't leave. Come back inside with me. I'll give you my coat, then you can boast that the prince of Valyria gave it to you."

I continue stepping back as I shake my head, "you don't understand," I mutter under my breath in High Valyrian.

"Then make me understand," he retorts in the same tongue with a chuckle as he shakes his head and takes a wide stride over to me, grabbing my hand again.

I gasp at the warmth of his touch. When I turn back to him, tears have finally fallen from my eyes.

Daemon's face hardens at the sight of it. His hand reaches out to my face, wiping the wetness away. The sight of his torn expression tears at me, bringing me more tears.

"Why are you crying?" he asks in High Valyrian.

I do not get to reply, as suddenly there is a loud burst from behind us, commanding both our attentions.

It's Aegon. He busted through the door with my things in his hand. Upon catching the sight of the two of us, he freezes, breathing heavily as the looks out.

Daemon's expression hardens; his grip on me tightens. He turns to me, jealousy coating his mouth when he catches I where I am looking, "is that your pretty boy?"

I do not reply to him as Aegon walks over.

Daemon pulls me close to him. I look up at him with teary eyes. Aegon looks between us, jaw tense as he hands me my bag, coat, and newspaper.

"Thank you, bartender," Daemon dismisses, patting Aegon on the shoulder, before turning from him to face me again.

When I catch Aegon's face, I finally have the wits to move.

I pull away from Daemon to put my coat on. I swallow a heavy lump in my throat at feel of the stares of the two men.

Once I have my coat on, I pull a card from my bag, handing it to Daemon. He wastes no time in taking it from me, immediately scrutinizing it.

"I'd..." I start, taking a deep breath, "like to see you again."

Daemon's eyes dart to me, breaking into a smile.

Butterflies explode in my stomach at the sight of him.

Aegon's face tenses.

I release a breath before asking, "when are you fr-"

"Whenever," Daemon blurts. He places the card in the breast pocket of his white shirt, "I'm free whenever."

I nod slowly at his words, "I have work tomorrow, but I do have a long lunch at 12-

"I'll call you a 11:55."

I purse my lips at his words, trying to hold back my chuckle, but failing, "11:55?"

Daemon grins, nodding once, "on the dot."

I chuckle, turning to my feet as I nod at his words, "11:55 then."

"On the dot," he nods, extending a hand out to rub his thumb on my cheek.

I turn to him just as Daemon pulls away and stuffs his hands back in his pockets, "I'll walk you."

I shake my head, turning to Aegon, who was still standing there, watching the whole interaction between us, "you don't have to. I have a car parked nearby."

"Then I'll walk you to your car."

I turn back to Daemon, who then offers his arm out to me. I smile, unable to deny him, or myself, of the offer. I take his arm, and the next moment, he leads us off.

I turn over my shoulder, raising a hand at Aegon while I offer him a smile, "see you, Aegon."

Aegon watches as I turn back.

There is a twisted feeling inside him that grows. He mutters softly. It is too soft for anyone but himself to hear, "see you."

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon fanfic #daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #daemon #daemon targaryen x you #daemon fic #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fanfic #daemon angst #daemon targaryen angst #daemon fluff #daemon targaryen fluff #daemon au #modern!daemon #modern!aegon #aegon #aegon targaryen #aegon fanfic #aegon targaryen fanfic #aegon fluff #aegon angst #aegon targaryen fluff #aegon targaryen angst #aegon x reader #aegon x you

[perotovar]

into the beat of the night (ch 2) "fear of the dark"

gif by me

pairing: frankie morales/nb!oc (they/them) rating: T (for now) chapter warnings: discussions of sexuality/gender (frankie doesn't understand some things and may use language that would be harmful, but it's not intentional), goth stereotypes abound, swearing, more cute shit word count: 2.7k dividers by @saradika beta: @scenaaario (ily adrienne ♥)

for notifications, follow @oakslibrary and turn on alerts ♥

series summary: frankie morales thought he had himself figured out by now. he liked both men and women, had dated both in the past. but when someone that challenges what he thinks that means comes into his life, in an unlikely place, he truly learns who he is, and more importantly, who he loves.

series masterlist

Frankie wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he texted River, but it wasn’t this.

ok what about this one?

He looked at the photo River sent him and was having a hard time calming down his heart. River was going back to the club where they met, The Night Owl, and “needed help” picking an outfit. Frankie thought they looked good in every outfit they’d shown him so far and wasn’t sure what the problem was.

U know i liked that 2nd one

you text like such an old man lol

hey

it’s ok, it’s cute 😘

That was another thing he’d have to get used to. River made their intentions quite clear and was very obvious with how they felt about Frankie. The problem was, Frankie was nervous. He’d flirted before. Had random hookups before. That wasn’t new to him, but River was.

He didn’t want to be disrespectful, but he still didn’t quite know if River was a man or a woman. In every selfie they’d sent him, they always had the same androgynous look. River had both sharp and soft features; soft, round cheeks with hard, angular eyes. They weren’t very tall, the top of their head grazing Frankie’s shoulder, and had a medium build. He had no idea how to approach the topic without them turning away.

Frankie knew he liked women. He knew he liked men. So it would make sense that he would like River, right? River was kind of like… both? The two of them had been texting for a week and he really liked their sense of humor. They were really nice to him; maybe even a little too nice. He didn’t know what to do with nice a lot of the time.

“Daddy?”

Frankie looked up from his phone at the sleepy four-year old in his bedroom doorway. Marisol was holding her stuffed bunny in one tiny arm and rubbing her eye with her other little fist.

“What’s up, conejita? What’re you doing awake, huh?” He smiled as he crawled out of bed, phone left behind. He made his way over to her and picked her up, resting her on his hip. “You have a bad dream?”

Marisol nodded and hid her face in Frankie’s neck, her little fist holding on tight to the worn neckline of his sleep shirt. Frankie frowned and held her close, rubbing her little back as he walked her back to her bedroom. As he went to lay her down in her bed she fussed a little, refusing to let go.

“Can I sleep with you? Please?” Marisol’s big brown eyes, mirror images of Frankie’s own, looked up at him pleadingly and he couldn’t turn her down. Not ever.

He straightened back up and nodded, kissing her soft cheek. “Alright. But just tonight, okay? You gotta sleep in your own bed tomorrow. Promise?” He held out his pinky. When her tiny one curled around his own, his heart melted.

He walked back to his own bedroom and set her down on the edge of the bed. She crawled her way up to his pillows and made herself comfy, cuddling her little bunny close. Frankie tucked her in and gave her a kiss on the top of her head. She whined and lifted her bunny up to him. “Flor, too!” Marisol’s little voice demanded.

“Right. Flor, too. Sorry, conejita,” he chuckled and gave a small kiss to Flor’s fuzzy head.

Marisol seemed satisfied with that and cuddled into Frankie’s blankets and shut her eyes. He made his way to his own side of the bed and crawled under the blankets as well, picking up his phone. Two messages from River.

so the second one?

damn, pass out on me already, old man? 😉

He quickly started typing a response, afraid to leave them hanging.

No sorry im here.   Yeah the 2nd one

He looked back at all the photos they’d sent him that evening and sighed. He started typing again.

U want company tomorrow ?

As the three dots showed up at the bottom of his screen, his heart started pounding harder.

i didn’t think you’d want to come back. thought we all scared you last time 😉 i’d love company, esp if it’s yours

Frankie smiled at his phone and rested it on his chest, looking up at the ceiling. Yeah, he had it bad.

“Hermano, I need your help.”

Frankie was sitting across from Santiago at a local coffee shop the next morning. The low hum of other customers talking and the nearby kitchen filled his ears. It grounded him a little. His palms were sweaty and he started sniffing, an old, terrible habit he’d picked up whenever he was nervous. No matter how long he had been clean, the craving to put something up his nose was never far.

“Well, I can see that. What’s on your mind? Is Marisol okay?” Santi asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, she’s great. It’s not that. I, uh, started… talking to someone. Well, I don’t really know–”

“That’s great, man! What’s her name? Or his?”

Frankie’s mouth felt dry, so he looked away from Santi’s eyes and took a drink of his own coffee. He swallowed thickly around the coffee and the lump in his throat.

“W-Well, um. River, but–”

“Ooh, unique.”

“Yeah,” Frankie sighed, nodding. “I’m not sure if that’s their real name, though? I mean, the bartender went by Viper, so it honestly wouldn’t surprise me–”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down,” Santi chuckled. “Why don’t you start from the beginning, huh?”

Frankie nodded, chewing on his bottom lip. That was probably a good place to start. So, he told Santiago everything. Ending up at a goth club, Viper and the drink he gave him (which he really liked), and meeting River. Texting with River and how much he liked them. 

Santiago stayed quiet the whole time, listening closely to what Frankie had to say. “Sounds like it doesn’t matter if you know or not, hermano.”

“But,” Frankie started. “I’d like to. T-To, y’know… Respect them. I’m not sure how to ask without offending them.”

Santiago hummed and took another drink. “This is still new, right?”

“Very.”

“Right. I don’t think River would be upset at you asking. You said you stuck out at that club, right? They’re probably expecting it at this point,” Santi chuckled.

Frankie nodded again, looking out into the middle distance. Santi was right. River had been nothing but kind to him so far. They even started to create little inside jokes already.

“When are you seeing them next?” Santi asked.

“Tonight. We’re going back to The Night Owl,” Frankie muttered, picking at a hangnail on his index finger.

Santi smirked, sitting up in his seat more. “Together this time? Or are you meeting there?”

“Meeting there. I don’t know where they live.”

Santiago hummed, thinking. “I think you should go and have fun tonight. You said they danced last time? Maybe you could join them this time. Just take the night as it comes, and if anything progresses, well, let it… progress,” he shrugged, as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

And maybe it should be. Frankie was allowed to enjoy himself from time to time. He’s been clean since Marisol was born, and had been on the straight and mostly narrow ever since. He could loosen up tonight. He nodded to himself and finally made eye contact with Santi again.

“I will. Thanks, Pope.”

“Of course, hermano. Lemme know how it goes, yeah?”

Frankie was sitting at the bar again, having another Snakebite. He tapped his fingers against the bar nervously as he waited for River to arrive. 

“They’ll be here, stripes,” Viper’s gruff voice muttered from behind him. Frankie turned to look at him and raised a brow.

“How do you know I’m–”

“Frankie!” River’s voice came from behind him, their hands waving excitedly, which caused all the jewelry they wore to jingle loudly. God, they looked incredible. He gulped, but smiled, standing to greet them properly.

“Hey, Riv,” Frankie said, shoving his hands into his pockets, unsure what to do with them. He hadn’t noticed it last time, or maybe they weren’t wearing it then, but River was wearing a cologne this time around; bergamot, clove, and sandalwood. It went right to his head and made his heart skip a beat. “You look great.”

“You picked it out, remember?” River winked, their eyes flicking to Frankie’s lips for a quick second. Their eyes traveled down further and they smirked, looking at the t-shirt Frankie wore underneath his leather jacket. “Iron Maiden, huh?” They teased.

“What, I don’t look like I listen to Iron Maiden?” Frankie smiled, a little of his confidence coming back now that River was here. All of the comfort and teasing was still there from their texts.

River hummed thoughtfully, one ring-clad finger running over the side of Eddie’s face on Frankie’s torso. “I didn’t say that. Just thought it was an interesting choice,” they grinned, looking back up at him.

Frankie blinked down at them, following their finger that had yet to leave. “Interesting?” he squeaked, swallowing around another lump in his throat.

River chuckled and took their hand away, shaking their head in amusement. “Don’t worry about it. C’mon, you promised me a dance, remember?”

Right. He did. After his meeting with Santiago that morning, he texted River and said he’d never seen dances quite like the ones at The Night Owl. River excitedly offered to show him how to do one or two moves. Frankie didn’t have the heart to tell them he had two left feet.

River grabbed his hand and dragged him to the dance floor, grinning up at him, and started dancing once they made their way to the middle.

The walls of the club bounced with the music. This time it was a little closer to electronic so it was easier to find a beat to Frankie’s untrained ears. He still didn’t fully know what all the different genres were despite River trying to give him a breakdown of the main ones over text. He thinks this one was Dark… Wave? Something like that.

Frankie had danced with both men and women before, but didn’t quite know where to put his hands with River. Thankfully, he didn’t have to think about it too hard, because they grabbed his wrists and rested his hands on their shoulders. They moved their hips to the music, grabbing onto Frankie's waist and guiding him with them.

Frankie’s cheeks warmed as he smiled down at them. He completely lost himself in the moment, just like Santi said he should. Lights danced around with them, shining off of River’s dark hair and illuminating them in a way that made Frankie’s heart stop. They made eye contact and River winked at him, tapping his butt lightly. He blushed, thankful that the lights hid it for the most part. Before he knew it, a few songs had passed and River was dragging him off the dancefloor and back towards the bar, giggling their head off.

“I didn’t know you had such good moves!” They teased, poking his side playfully.

“Oh, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” Frankie winked, his eyes flicking to River’s lips. River got closer, wrapping their arms around Frankie’s waist and grinned.

“That a promise?”

Frankie’s heart skipped two full beats before he exhaled loudly, his hands resting on River’s biceps. He looked around at all the other clubgoers and sighed before grabbing River’s hand and taking them outside into the fresh air.

River furrowed their brows with concern, but followed him. They looked at the back of Frankie’s head, eyes following the shapes and valleys of his messy curls. They wanted to run their fingers through it.

Fresh, cool air hit their warm cheeks as Frankie walked them over to his truck. He maneuvered River so that they were leaning against the side, his arms caging around them. River could see that a million thoughts were passing behind those big brown eyes of his. They reached for the bottom of Frankie’s Iron Maiden t-shirt and rubbed it comfortingly. They were patient.

“I’d love nothing more than to promise you that,” Frankie started, his eyes not meeting their green ones. He kept his eyes glued to the torn shirt and multiple silver necklaces River wore. “But, I just… I have a question for you, and I’m not sure how to ask it.”

River’s lips quirked up into a small smile. They had a feeling this was coming. “No, I’m not secretly a cop,” they deadpanned.

Frankie looked up at that and snorted at the serious look on River’s face. “No, not that,” he chuckled, poking at the tattoo on River’s collarbone.

“You can just ask. It can’t be that bad.”

Frankie bit his bottom lip and nodded, eyes locked on River’s nose rings. “I, uh… I’ve dated men and women in the past. I… like them equally, and I guess I was just wondering… where you, uh… fell, on that spectrum,” he mumbled, eyes downcast again. His shoulders felt a hundred pounds lighter, but he was still afraid he would offend them.

River smiled wide and cupped Frankie’s cheek, forcing him to look at them. “That’s all?”

Frankie blinked and nodded jerkily.

“Well, do you want the long version or the short version?”

Frankie looked at River’s lips, feeling a little more confident knowing River wasn’t angry with him. “Whichever one gets me closer to kissing you,” he muttered hopefully, dropping his hand down to their hip and rubbing the bone there with his thumb.

River’s breath hitched and they smiled. “Short version, then,” they grinned, rubbing at his patchy facial hair, their thumb finding a perfect spot to rest. “I’m both. And neither. I was raised one way and never felt like I belonged in either basket.”

Frankie nodded in understanding. He understood feeling like he didn’t belong. “Is… is there a word for that?” he asked, hoping that was okay.

“Yeah. Non-binary. I don’t always use it, and that’s kind of where the longer version comes in, but I think you promised me a kiss,” River smiled, rubbing their thumb along Frankie’s bottom lip.

Frankie didn’t need to be told twice, surging forward to slot their lips together. He kept one hand on River’s hip and cupped the back of their head with his free hand, sighing into their mouth. 

River moved their head a little to the right so they could fit together more easily. They gently prodded their tongue against Frankie’s bottom lip, asking permission. Goosebumps traveled down the back of their neck to the tips of their toes, as they wound their arms around Frankie’s neck.

Frankie happily granted them entry, his head spinning at the feeling of River’s lips on his own. It was so much better than he thought it would be.

When they eventually came up for air, Frankie touched his forehead to River’s. They just breathed each other in for a few moments, but River started snickering quietly. He leaned back, their waists still pressed together, and looked down at them, smiling softly. “What?”

River pointed to their own mouth, then to his, and laughed harder. He raised a brow and looked over at his rearview mirror to see what it could be. He didn’t let go of River’s hip.

Once his own reflection came into view, his cheeks warmed at what he saw. His eyes traveled over to River’s giggling form in the mirror, their hand covering their mouth as their shoulders shook. River’s dark lipstick had transferred over onto Frankie’s own lips and it looked… very out of place, to say the least.

Frankie started laughing softly, his eyes moving back to River’s. “I think it suits me, don’t you?” He winked.

River barked a laugh and lightly slapped his chest. “Absolutely not. I like you all lumberjack, fisherman chic.”

“Fisher– what?” Frankie chuckled.

“You look like you just got back from a fishing trip with peepaw, Francisco. Please don’t tell me you have a photo of you holding up a fish on your Tinder profile,” River said, suddenly very serious.

Frankie blinked a few times before it was his turn to start laughing hard. Then he got quiet, and asked, “What’s Tinder?”

“Good answer.”

a/n: please enjoy these edits i made of frankie in his iron maiden t-shirt~

#frankie morales #triple frontier #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales fic #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fluff #pedro pascal characters #oaksfics

[fuck-you-upmusicbracket]

Against The Kitchen Floor (Will Wood)

And I swear! I will die trying!/I'm still in the process, but I'm making progress; I promise I honestly wanna prove improvement's possible, I swear!/I'm so fucking sorry! I'm not a good person, I'm barely a person at all, But someday I'll be perfect, and I'll make up for it all!

Less rare than scarce, less diamond then rough/Unlikely to be more than just the coal you failed to crush

I'm catatonic in your arms, crying, "How did I cause so much harm?"/I'm down pounding my head against the kitchen floor/Apologizing for my life and ever entering yours

The vertex of my redemption arc/I’m searching on that virgin heart

"The raw emotion! And I strongly relate to desperately wanting to improve for someone you love. I belt out this song when I feel really hopeless"

"my one OC. also me. also it's just a really good song. one of will's best imo. screaminbg"

"Literally hits almost all of my self-esteem issues. Feeling like people only care about you for your body? Check. Not understanding why anyone would want you? Check. Thinking that all you do is hurt people? Check. I don't cry very often but this song DEFINITELY made me teary"

"one of those if u aren’t paying attention to the lyrics ur like this is nice but once u hear them its an OW holy OW and guilt and I’m sorry feelings"

"Just. Loving someone but not feeling like you’re good enough and trying to improve."

"Not only does this song have lyrics that are deeply relatable to me, but this song also feels very deeply personal to the artist and I feel that anyone who listens to it for the first time has that same feeling of getting punched in the gut. Just the lyrics and the melody and Will Wood’s incredible vocals make this song an absolute masterpiece and I cry every time I hear it."

"One reason I'm attached to this song is because my friend sent it to me and said "I'm kin assigning you this song" and ruined my life (/j) It messed me up because I've always had a hard time in my life figuring myself out and dealing with my emotions, and for what feels like the first time, this song has been able to near perfectly describe how I feel about myself and my impact on other people, and it always just meant so much to me that my friend who sent it to me knows me better than I know myself and shared the song with me and I love them dearly."

Curses (Crane Wives)

Ashes, ashes, dust to dust/Tell me I am good enough/Lay my curses out to rest/

All my aching bones are trembling/And I may yet fall apart/Won't you stay with me, my darling/When the war starts in my heart?

Every word I say is kindling/But the smoke clears when you're around/Won't you stay with me, my darling/When my walls start burning down, down, down?

"The singer is falling apart but they'll still jam about it. They're trying so hard to get better, they're failing, and they need support even when recovery feels hopeless. It's a concept I haven't seen explored in a song before. Lots of songs are about someone relying on their partner for emotional support but none explore the darker side of the difficulty of carrying someone else's burdens. Also the clarinet fucks."

"One, is starts out with a jazzy clarinet. The instrumentals of the song is very dance-y. I love the destructive tone of the lyrics, the singer thinking they ruin everything and they're not worthy of love, but still begging You to stay"

"It’s asking for help when you’re at your lowest. It’s the emotion behind the words— it’s one of those songs where the singer puts weight and emphasis on certain lines. Makes the heart go ouughghhghghh. It’s the “duo who’s known each other for a long time and are driving out post-big time conflict” or “emotional climax where there’s no words, only action” scene type of song imo. Also there’s a mad clarinet solo and it’s really good"

Against the Kitchen Floor submitted by @pixopolis + others

Curses submitted by @dreadful-windandrain + others

#fuck you up bracket #tournament #polls #will wood #the crane wives

[html-nae]

T R A P S O U L

42!Miles x fem!OC

Part 2 of the 42!Miles x fem!OC series

WC: 1277

Nonviolent communication.

Nonviolent communication is based on historical principles of nonviolence.

The natural state of compassion when no violence is present in the heart.

It reminds us what we already instinctively know about how good it feels to connect with another human being.

It was just another night. Another fight for Miles’ attention.

But what do you do when you’re falling and you can’t find anything to hold on to?

Nothing.

It was also the night of Jefferson Davis’ promotion party.

‘For Aaron’, he would say. Anytime someone congratulated him on his accomplishment. ‘It’s all for my family and my brother. May he rest in power.’ Anyone could tell he missed his brother. Did he know Aaron was the prowler? Maybe. But he still loved him. So, in honor of him. He worked hard to become captain and provide for his family.

Miles promised to walk Harmony to the party.

So she got ready. A whole three hours before the party even started. She wanted her makeup to look good, she wanted her hair to look good, she wanted her outfit to look good.

Harmony wanted to look good.

For Miles.

Everyday she screamed for his attention. Sometimes it went unnoticed and sometimes it didn’t.

So she learned to count every blessing. There was no promise for tomorrow so she counted every second he dedicated to her. Even if it was small.

Harmony finished getting ready at 5:00.

The time Miles said he would get her.

Perfect.

5:10.

No Miles.

Soon 10 minutes turned into 20.

And 20 into 40.

And 40 into an hour.

And he still never came.

She decided to swallow her pride and not text him. Harmony wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe something came up, she thought.

Instead of saying anything, Harmony grabbed her bag and did a once over in the mirror before leaving.

The sun was setting and the city was alive. There was the well known traffic as well as the bright neon signs being turned on. Food merchants were still out, eager to sell whatever was left in stock before calling it quits for the night. Groups of friends walked past Harmony giggling about whatever joke was said as they passed her.

The fast life she was used to living was all going in slow motion. She got to appreciate the beauty of the city. By herself.

And she enjoyed it.

When Harmony arrived at the party everyone was there.

Except for Miles.

“Hey manmi mwen regrèt anpil mwen an reta.” Harmony said once she found Rio. (Hey mom. I’m so sorry for being late.”

Rio turned her head towards the girl with a bright smile adorning her face. She loved Harmony like the daughter she never had, always eager to speak to her and find out what was going on in her life.

“It’s no worries hija. We’re just glad you were able to make it.”

A smile made its way on the Haitian girl’s face, her eyes scanned the party hoping to find the Morales boy. Rio was quick to notice.

She knew. She knew the girl in front of her was crushing on her son. She also knew that her son was stringing her along. Rio scolded him about it many times, but each time she was met with a ‘It’s nothing mami. Honest’, and each time Rio would sigh and shut the door.

“We don’t know where he is. We checked his room and he was missing.”

The Jones girl nodded in response as the upcoming Captain slotted himself into the conversation. His glasses were slightly askew from the dancing his family dragged him into, but other than that he looked pristine. As always.

Conversations and congratulations were shared between the two, before they drifted off into Harmony’s studies and how her father was doing.

Then Miles came. With someone else.

Gwen.

Harmony watched them distance themselves from the rest of the party. She saw the way Miles looked at Gwen.

He never looked at me like that.

All the years I’ve known him. He never looked at me like I was everything to him.

“Who’s that?” Jeff questioned looking at the new girl that was hanging around his son. She was different. He knew about Harmony’s infatuation.

Everyone knew.

So he was just as confused as the next person when a new girl showed up with his son while he stood next to someone that would put their life on the line for him.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Her heart was racing. She was here. Next to him. And he looked happy.

Content.

He’s never looked this happy before.

Because it was Gwen. The girl that filled all the pages in his notebook. The same girl that he could spend hours talking about. The same girl that Miles was infatuated with.

Gwen Stacy. Not Harmony Jones

The two parents made their way towards them and ended up dragging Harmony with them.

The whole interaction lasted at least fifteen minutes. And the whole time

Miles never looked at Harmony.

He acted like she wasn’t there.

Even when Gwen dipped off and had to leave.

He never talked to her. His eyes were trained on where the blonde once stood.

Harmony finally met the girl that plagued her best friend’s mind. And she was right. She was the complete opposite of her. They shared absolutely nothing in common except for Miles.

But Gwen had Miles more than Harmony did. So they were back to square one.

Having nothing in common.

Because Harmony had to face the facts.

She couldn’t even say that they both had Miles.

Only Gwen had him.

The only thing Harmony had were distant memories that Miles probably didn’t even remember.

The Morales boy left long before the party was over. He went to follow Gwen.

Much to Harmony’s dismay.

This is what happens when Harmony thinks about him. Too caught up in her feelings. Reminiscing.

Next time I’ll be different.

She thought. She would wait on a sign and then come to the idea that it was time for a different prayer that somehow still revolved around Miles.

A boy that didn’t even see her the way she saw him.

She didn’t like being alone, but that’s exactly what happened when she went home. Thoughts of ringing his line flooded her mind as she laid down on her bed staring at her phone. Wishing that he would come home.

To her home.

Harmony wanted to balance her space. Protect her space. But Miles made it hard.

He gave her just enough to stay attached and hold onto him.

The Jones girl didn’t need the pain but with it stemming from Miles Morales, the hero of Brooklyn. She didn’t mind it all that much.

What’s left of us?

She remembered when Miles would tell her everything. When he was her best friend and would find comfort in her for anything. Now he makes promises that he doesn’t live up to. He ditches plans that he makes for them and says nothing but a mere apology if she gets one.

The same dorky kid that got humiliated on the first day of school. Is the same dorky kid thats humiliating Harmony without trying to.

He let her fall first while he stood dreaming wide awake.

And she’d do anything to be the person on his mind.

Harmony was in over her head and she couldn’t hold herself to be mad at Miles.

Because let's face it.

It was nothing but a state of nonviolent communication.

The natural state of compassion when no violence is present in the heart.

Taglist:

@urmotherswhor3 @not-aya @ihavenousernamewhyy-2 @erensbbg @reneuv @notsaelty @blackwxdo @bajadotcom

#spider man #miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #earth 42 miles #earth 42 miles x reader #miles molares #miles x reader #gwen stacy #miles x OC #across the universe #across the spider verse spoilers #spiververse #spiderverse oc #spiderman

[victoriartdrawings]

So here's the promised part 2 of the Zonami fics rec!!

Part 1 can be found here

(i havent got the time to read or do much on this blog and post the rec with all college stuff last week and the beginning of class, sorry !!)

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10264637/1/The-Bounty

Already recommended it in the 1st rec (author dreamsinword ) but i still put it again here because i'm in love with her writing, and frankly the experience not only made me smile like in the manga, (Zoro and Nami dynamics, (besides the obvious romantic tones) and the rest of the crew are on point! ) but it nails the characterization of everyone, and with OCs that you feel could belong in Oda's world!!!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/37865146

(warnings: if ABO genre is not to your liking then dont read this one!)

So i only went through 1 chapter,( it has 11 chapters up) but so far (which is, not very far, but bear with me 😅) it doesnt seem to fall into the cliche of the'strong omega who doesnt like alpha but in the end falls under the alpha's charm anyway because uuh uh, sexy and smells goood!!!!- a trope that i personally hate because of consent issues... (no flames if you love it though 🙃)

it describes the strawhats crew with a dialogue that seems pretty thoughful (of what the scenario want to do and tell us) and not just in a way it only copies the anime (luffy screamed: i'm hungry!! Nami said: Baka!/ Robin was reading in a chair and Franky was building something that i found often in fic). (also i love any Abo writers who dont focus totally on smut, smells, dominance, and physical side of the genre and rather works on the system, the world and how the implications of the second sex impact the psychology and story as a whole! ) that said, the story seems promising!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48206047

@cutieininferno on tumblr!!!!

fic where you feels the very obvious attraction between them (but without the too much cringy emotionally stuff like 'he had nice abs, sexy and she was love with him! so strong!) but it still make room for the plot and you want to know what happens next!! (also bonus point for including the witch nickname in the actual plot, love it!! ) all in all, go read it what can i say more beside im sad there isnt more kudos???!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22678642

Good plot. Nami centric (and her origins), friends - to lovers, i enjoyed that one too!

One shots, short fics

https://www.fanfiction.net/u/776756/Rasetsu

Sweets little drabbles,

angstier than the previous one (and can be read as friendship)

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/2430733/1/Because

oh boy this one is a little messy but it hurts in the best way (also mention of implicit sex) love the 'mature' take on them!

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6358367/1/Small-Steps

more friendship, and analysis of Nami from Zoro pov

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6375303/1/Moments-Like-These

how to write perfect Zonami in 642 words. No comments.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49450201

ANgst angst angst, implied sex, sort of...friends with benefit, (still happy ending) again, from Zoro pov!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8336653

They made out in the storage room. this is uditory torture for the rest of the crew. I laughed during this one!!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8330107

again, a make out, a drunken kiss and a stupid competition. Love it.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1128823

Drabbles so sweet i have to brush my teeth.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8336968

One shot abt Zoro first time - do you know how much i like this headcanon???? no? now you know. Virgin Zoro with accidental rizz is awesome!! (Luffy is always this element in the fic who made me crack up!!!)

#zonami #zoro x nami #nami x zoro #zonas #zona #opla #fic rec #one piece #zoroxnami #this is for my discord girlies!!!! #awesome people procuring me a lot of joy!!!!

[slicznymartwy]

Hello, can I request Billy Lenz with an s/o who is also a murderer? Like one of the members of the sorority had snapped and started killing or maybe Billy accidentally witnesses a murder when he's out of the house and develops an obsession? Love your writing!!!

fish .. ur so genius as always. i loved writing this so much, like genuinely i want to expand on this more one day .. just 2 very sick people against the world ueueue warning: brief mention of suicide/self harm, bullying, the sorority sisters are kind of mean in this one im sorry T T u guys know i love all of them, minor oc character death (she deserves it)

☾⋆⁺₊ billy lenz x gn!reader

The puddle shimmers under the dim light coming from your bedside lamp; it’s a mix of glitter and little shards of glass that get swept up in the spreading fluid. The base of the snow globe lays in the rubble, the little Bambi figurine is broken too. You can see his decapitated head lonely on the floor.

“Oops,” Susan says. You can’t stand to look at her, but it sounds like she’s smiling. This must be really funny to her, you think to yourself, still watching the snow globe’s blood spread. 

Your hands tighten into fists. Your breath shudders. Your ears are still ringing from the sound of your most precious treasure shattering on the floor.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to cry,” Susan goads, but your eyes feel dry. You used to cry when her bullying began. She would stand on the other side of the bathroom door and let you hear how hilarious she thought you were being. You hate her laugh. It’s ugly, like a braying horse spooked in its stable. No one else seems to mind it, though. None of your sorority sisters ask her to stop, even when she’s laughing so hard that she cries too.

Your father bought you that snow globe. He used to shake it up for you then put it in your hands, making you promise to be careful with it. He died when you were ten. The glitter in Bambi’s eyes makes it look like he’s weeping for you.

“It’s just a piece of shit toy, anyways. You’re too old for a stupid Bambi snow globe, aren’t you? I mean, that’s probably why no one wants to date you. Everyone can tell you’re just a weird loser freak. I don’t even know how you got into this sorority. I’d ask if you slept with someone to get here, but I don’t think there’s a single person on Earth that would take you up on that.”

You keep watching the puddle. It turns the wood dark as it flows into the cracks. Susan laughs and laughs, you can see her holding onto her stomach like she’s making herself sick. 

“Hello? Are you ignoring me now?”

You look up at her. Her smile is ugly and mean.

She follows behind you as you walk downstairs.

“Where the fuck are you going? Are you leaving? Don’t you know it’s rude to ignore someone who’s talking to you? Hello!”

She’s in your ear like a gnat. You don’t know why she can’t just leave you alone. You walk into the kitchen, and you rip your arm out of her attempt to hold you back.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, huh? Are you broken or something? You can’t just ignore me!”

You pull a knife out from the storage block. She guffaws, rolling her eyes.

“Seriously? You fucking bitch. Is that for me, or are you finally going to off yourself already? Everyone’s placing bets, you know,” she says, still laughing. “Go ahead and do it. Slit your wrists, I won’t save you if you do.”

You’re not laughing. You stare at her. The knife is surprisingly heavy in your hand. You lift it up by your head.

Her laughter dies down.

“You can’t be serious. It was a joke!” she says. She stumbles back, but you follow her. “Stop it! What the fuck is wrong with you!”

She runs up the stairs and you follow her. In the long straight hallway, you lunge and drive the knife into her back. Susan screams as she falls, and you follow her down. She’s screaming and writhing in pain, but you sit on her hips and drive the knife down again and again. She’s leaking like the snow globe, her fluids spreading across her shirt. Once she’s quiet, you sit back on top of her.

Sniffling, you lay down the knife on top of her back. You feel numb inside still; part of you had hoped that doing this would snap you out of it, but it didn’t. You don’t react when you hear someone climbing down from the attic. You only barely glance at him when he kneels down next to you.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur to him.

“It’s okay,” he whispers back. “You didn’t mean it.”

“I think I did,” you admit.

“Bitch whore deserved it. Fucking cunt.” There’s so much animosity in his voice. You wonder why you’re spared from it. You wonder who this stranger is.

Still, you don’t respond to him. You keep watching the blood grow.

“I can help,” he says after a moment. His voice is quiet and nervous, like he’s never said those words before and wasn’t sure how to pronounce them. He gestures you to climb off of her and you do, standing up shakily beside him.

“How?” you ask. He doesn’t answer you, just hands you the knife and takes a hold of your dead sister. He holds her wrists and hauls her towards the attic ladder. Her blood smears like jelly on hardwood toast. 

“Fuck. Fuck,” you mutter to yourself. You need to clean the mess before it stains. You hurry to the bathroom, running the hot water and putting on gloves. When you get back to the hallway, all that’s left is blood. You clean diligently, and it’s all mostly out. What’s left might be unnoticeable to someone who doesn’t know where to look.

The man comes back down, his sweater covered in blood. You frown.

“I have to wash that before it stains,” you say. You take him to the bathroom, and he sits shirtless on the floor next to you as you rub out the stains in the tub.

He keeps looking at you, you can feel his eyes on the side of your face. You don’t look back at him.

“I can help,” he says suddenly. He sounds more sure now.

“It’s almost out,” you say, shaking your head.

“I can kill the rest,” he says. Your hands stop moving in the freezing cold water.

“You don’t have to,” you murmur, still not looking at him. 

“You’re so pretty.”

“They’re not all like her,” you tell him gently, ignoring his comment.

“They’re pig sluts. Disgusting shit-smelling whores,” he spits. You look at him then.

“What about me?” you ask him quietly. He looks into your eyes.

“You’re so pretty. I like Bambi,” he says. 

You couldn’t cry before, but now you mourn your snow globe. Your face crumples, and the stranger hugs you.

“They’re so mean sometimes,” you whimper. “I don’t know why they hate me.”

“I can help,” he says into your ear. “Billy wants to help Bambi.”

You know there’s no saving Bambi, though. His head is cut off and he’s crying in his own blood. All that’s left are shards of glass.

© slicznymartwy 2023, please do not repost or copy.

a/n: reblogs and replies are really appreciated <;3

#billy lenz #black christmas (1974) #billy lenz x reader #slasher x reader #₊*. ⋆༘ — requests #billy lenz x gn!reader #billy lenz x you #billy lenz x y/n

[butterfly-writer]

So I know u already did part 2 which was phenomenal Iike Amazing so just have to to do another final part 3 will be last one I promise I just having so fun making these ideas request cuz jinx is my fav

Takes place where left off bakugou doesn’t die maybe he blocks the attack from hitting him reader bakugou and reader both have battle have monologue about the past bakugou trying to mends his ways of hurting the reader but reader slowly have meltdown attacking agressive letting her rage get her she slowly getting vulnerable state bakugou like maybe hugs her saying heartfelt speech sorry about everything but maybe he notices one the villains tried to stab or shot BAKUGOU without notices but jinx pushes him out the way users her numbs ti defeat villian to save his life but she got extremely hurt and change of heart but is slowly dying bakugou is in shock and cries while holding her

I can imagine reader saying like “I’m always a jinx I guess I deserve this fate

bakugou is just in shocked tries to help the reader saying she could be hero but reader is like it’s too late for me maybe that can could end I know it’s angst but originally I was gonna let reader have redemption but i felt like wouldn’t fit her arc unless u want to change to be somewhat good ending it up to u but this final part I had in mind for idea it doesn’t have to exact this but u can add changes to ur liking u see fit aslo dm me for any questions cuz I love ur blog aslo i Hope this ok Request and that won’t be trouble just jinx is just fav charcter sm

Always a jinx

Bakugou x Fem!Reader

Summary: Bakugou managed to avoid the attack made by Jinx, but will he be able to change her heart?

★☽A/N: WE DOING IT AGAIN!! I honestly love making this, I haven't had this much fun writing something in a long time!! I'm actually considering making a series (With my own BNHA oc) and will be posting it on Wattpad and maybe Tumblr! Enough of this, let's get into it! ENJOY!!!!

Contents: Angst - a few breakdowns - death(?)

Y/N’s quirk: Arcanna (Allows the user to create crystal-like balls that can be used to boost the user’s stats, power up weapons (Like guns), and can be used as explosives when crushed.)

· • —– ٠ ✡ ٠ —– • ·

BANG!!!!!

Wait.. How? Bakugou was still alive..

Bakugou managed to dodge the shot but caused himself to fall down on his side, still tied onto the chair. “Y/N, YOU REALLY NEED HELP!” Bakugou angrily said. “WHY CAN’T YOU JUST– DIE?!” Y/N cried, her face was twisted with anger and sadness. She has been tormented by the memories, almost becoming deaf, almost dying from drowning and from his Quirk, and she hated it. Her breakdown was worse this time. She was yelling, trashing her surroundings while Bakugou tried his best to get out of his restraints. “Why can’t you leave me alone? I hate you! Stop! Shut up!!” She said to herself, her hands gripping her hair hard.

Bakugou managed to get out of the restraints and quickly walked towards Y/N. “Y/N, calm down.” He said in a stern voice, almost demanding. Y/N just looked at him with her E/C eyes that glowed a pink glow. “Leave me ALONE!” She screamed, pushing him away.

“Y/N, listen to me. I know I haven’t been the nicest to you in the past but what I know, I can change. Someone showed me that I could change to be a better person, a better hero. I hate that I couldn’t mend things with you but this is my chance to mend things with you if you let me help you. You can become the hero you always dreamed of with Deku.” Bakugou softly said, extending both his hands out as he walked slowly towards Jinx who was looking at him with widened eyes, her hands fidgeting.

“I don’t need your pity.” She spat with venom. “I’m not pitying you, I’m trying to help you.” Bakugou replied, getting close to her by the second. “I don’t need anyone’s help. I’m hopeless! I’m a freak case! What makes you think you could fix me?!” Jinx asked, her body was in an unstable, angered, and vulnerable state. She was shaking as she heard the voices messing with her head.

By now, Bakugou was standing close to her, looking straight at her but she was standing on her left side, not noticing Bakugou as she held her head in a tight grip. Bakugou felt guilty, how is that possible? He feels no quilty over bullying Deku but he felt the guilt twist his guts when it came to remembering his torment on Jinx. If he wanted to be a hero, he needed to make some changes. His hands reach towards Jinx’s trying to get her attention. But as his hands reached closer, she turned her head to look at him with frightened eyes as she looked at his hands that were reaching for hers.

She couldn’t help but sob more as she pounced on him, crying hysterically. Bakugou was stunned but soon hugged her back, combing her hair to soothe her. “I don’t think I can fix you.. But I can help you.” Was all Katsuki said.

She lifted her head to look him in the eyes. “Do..Do you think I can be a.. Hero too..?” She asked in soft hiccups. Katsuki had a small smile on and nodded, “Yes.” He answered.

Jinx couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief? Of what? Oh… Relieved that she could change paths, that she could follow her dreams instead of following her nightmares. Relieved that she could make new friends, friends with the same goal.

That all faded away when she saw someone behind Katsuki. Toga, and she looked furious. Furious that one of her close friends in the League was hugging a hero course student, the League’s target no less! She grabbed her knife and swung it towards Bakugou’s back. Jinx’s eyes widened and quickly hugged Katsuki tight which shocked him. What shocked him more was when she quickly turned around, swapping their places when she was stabbed by the thrown knife, its very tip grazing her heart.

“Y/N!” He called out. He was furious, blasting Toga away from them. Katsuki didn’t pull the knife out since it was impaled in her and would only cause her to bleed out if he were to take it out. “Why the fuck would you do that?!” He angrily asked. Y/N just smiled. “A hero would do that… Right?” She asked with a smile. Katsuki couldn’t stop the water from pouring out of his eyes. “...Right.” He grinned.

“Shit- I’m always a jinx so I guess I deserve this fate.” She chuckled. Katsuki couldn’t help but tear up a bit. He quickly grabbed her to try to pick her up to bring her to the hospital– But she stopped him. “You won’t be fast enough.” She protested. “I will be fast enough!” Bakugou protested back, picking her up and ran as fast as he could to bring her to the hospital.

Just as they were a mile away from the hospital, someone yelled from a distance. “IT’S NOT OVER YET!” Bakugou didn’t look but he knew it was a member from the LOV. Shigaraki was furious that he lost his little play toy. Using two of his fingers, he grabbed a crystal that was long ago made by Y/N. He smashed it to the ground, inches away from Y/N and Katsuki.

Bakugou managed to blast away before it exploded, creating a hole in the city’s ground but only caused the knife to slip even deeper by the impact. “You’ll make it.” He promised to the girl who had fallen unconscious, running as fast as he could.

⭒☆━━━━☆⭒

The hospital’s walls were white and clean, the air was fresh, and patients and medical staff crowded the halls and rooms.

In one of the rooms, Katsuki Bakugou held the hands of Y/N L/N who lay unconscious on a hospital bed. He hoped for the best for her.

Slowly, she opened her eyes to the bright light of the hospital room, taking quick glances around the room before her eyes landed on Katsuki’s figure. He felt eyes on him and looked up to see her looking at him. He couldn’t help but show a small smile before hugging her softly.

Jinx was no more… It was just.. Y/N. A soon to be hero.

· • —– ٠ ✡ ٠ —– • ·

★☽A/N: And that’s the finale!! I hope it wasn’t that short. I just want to thank you all for the support that you have given me. I hope to learn how to write better, fix my grammar and update my vocabulary!

#boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #bnha #female reader #reader #x reader #angst #arcane #fluff #bakugou x female reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugou #katsuki x female reader

[dicevires]

ive suddenly fallen in love w ur heracross gijinka naotora... r u willing to draw more of her 🥺🥺

HI 😭😭😭😭 IM SO SORRY FOR THE LATE REPLY I just want you to know that this made me so, so, so happy when I first read it; I don't usually get a lot of interest in my OC or PKG art, I was really happy to receive this kind of message 🥺  I wanted to respond with proper art but I've been so busy & kind of forced my PKG brainworm into hibernation so I could focus on more important stuff 😭 I don't know if you're still here or you'll see this, but sorry for taking so long to reply!!! I really appreciate you taking the time to share your thoughts with me, it truly made my day 😊 I feel like maybe you wanted more um... comic stuff that shows her personality & interactions 🙈 I was hoping to get a Mega Evo design down for her & then the second one; i was just color blotching with a different grip on my pen (trying to fix so it doesn't put as much strain on my fingers).. I will prob delete later in the year because they're just scribbles, but just in case Anon saw I wanted to put it out there for now ;;;; TL;DR TYSM FOR THE WONDERFUL MESSAGE I will draw more of her!!!! 💙 (eventually) ((i promise...))

Naotora

#pokemon gijinka #ask #heracross

[irkimatsu]

I saw another person ask about this for someone else for husk dating Alastor's sister

Your writing is so good I'd love u see ur take on it

First off, fun fact, Alastor's an only child! (Source!) I know things can change over years in show development, but it's something I'll take as canon unless proven otherwise, and I'm a real stickler for canon. So, while I didn't write about a sister by blood, I decided to give him a childhood friend who views him as a brother.

Maybe that view is too rosy for her to see what kind of person Alastor really is and always has been... that's going to make things difficult for Husk...

Third-person; sorry if you wanted reader-insert, I wasn't sure! I wanted to give the sister more detail than I typically give reader-inserts anyway. Kind of Husk/OC, but more for establishing that a relationship like this is going to be rocky as hell. SFW. About 1.5k words.

Her name was Clara.

Husk didn’t believe in love at first sight - that was a fairy tale he left behind long ago, along with all his other dreams from when he was young and stupid. Still, even if he wouldn’t call it love right away, something about her struck his interest the instant she walked into the hotel and sat at his bar. She was a short, black bear demon, her soft facial features reminiscent of a teddy bear. She wore a green floral dress, and had the heart of a charming Southern belle. Her bright smile and light voice even made Husk almost not care when she scolded him for swearing for the twentieth time. She’d only been here for about an hour, and already Husk was looking forward to how things would progress over her stay…

…and then Alastor showed up.

“Clara, my dear, it’s been ages! How has my darling little sister been?”

She happily ran into Alastor’s arms and accepted some affectionate scritches on the head from him, and Husk had no idea what to make of the situation.

Further conversation revealed that she wasn’t really his sister, not by blood, but their bond during life was no weaker for it. She was about five years younger than Alastor in life, though she’d died over a decade after Alastor had. She’d often jokingly comment that she was technically the older sibling now, but as Alastor always insisted, “once a little sister, always a little sister!” In their youth, she had tagged along with him for woodland excursions for as long as she could remember. He was always happy to have her along for the ride and teach her everything he knew about outdoor survival. 

Husk couldn’t help but notice that Alastor never brought up certain other activities from his life whenever Clara was in listening distance.

God, Husk hated the way he’d steal her attention. He’d be having a nice chat with her, managing to forget exactly who she was, only for Alastor to butt in and ruin the mood. As they reminisced about living experiences that Husk had no input for, he couldn’t help but wonder if Alastor was trying to distance them on purpose.

Was it to punish Husk, or to protect his reputation from Clara?

Whatever the reason, Husk’s eventual solution was to start meeting Clara in her room. Not for any inappropriate reasons, he insisted to a scandalized Charlie and an intrigued Angel; he simply knew Alastor’s manners wouldn’t let him burst into his own “sister’s” room unwanted, granting them some privacy as long as Alastor had no suspicions of whatever they spoke about.

Husk promised him to keep certain things secret. Alastor’s leash on him forced him to make that promise loudly and clearly.

Why would he want to spend his time talking about Alastor, anyway? He got enough of that asshole in his daily life. He just wanted someone to talk to about music and films from his time period and to share opinions on food and drink with. She was a very cultured woman, and could follow a conversation about anything Husk could imagine; if she didn’t know something, her curious mind knew which questions to ask to keep the topic interesting. The hours melted away whenever Husk got a moment uninterrupted with her.

Over time, maybe he did consider taking things a little further. To take her hand and invite her to dance, to kiss her at the perfect moment over the swelling strings of a strategically chosen song…

But before he could ever make that happen, a subject couldn’t be avoided anymore.

“Why do you put up with Alastor?”

Husk’s question was sudden, breaking a brief silence before Clara could cover it with more interesting but overall irrelevant conversation. He lazily swirled his glass of whiskey as he spoke, a glass he so desperately needed right then after another argument with his “owner” had gone poorly.

“What are you talking about?” Clara asked. “I’ve known him for almost all my life. He’s practically my brother. Why wouldn’t I want to ‘put up’ with him?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard the stories of what he’s been up to since he got here?” Husk asked before gulping down his glass and topping it off again.

“...okay, well…” Clara said, laughing nervously. “I know he’s built up a bit of a… reputation down here…”

“And you’ve seen how he treats me.” No, she hadn’t seen the worst of it; as far as Clara knew, Alastor’s comments about keeping his pet Husker on a leash were purely metaphorical. But she’d heard all the condescending nicknames, seen all the condescending touches that Husk would growl and pull away from. Husk’s disdain for the man wasn’t exactly subtle.

“Oh, he teases everyone,” Clara said, laughing and waving away Husk’s concern. “You just gotta grow a thick skin!”

Husk growled. “You saying I’m thin skinned?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that-”

Husk huffed before draining another glass of whiskey as quickly as he could pour it. “Did he ever tell you about how he died?”

“Why would he need to tell me?” Clara asked. “I was alive when it happened. A hunter saw him in the woods, thought he was a deer, and shot him. The hunter ran back to town to get the police, they found his body right where the hunter said, and the whole thing was wrapped up as a tragic accident. What else is there to know?”

“Did he ever tell you why he was in those woods that day?” Husk pressed further.

“He never needed a reason. He always loved those woods, ever since we were kids. Knew them inside out. Knew all the places to hide, whether he wanted to hide himself or bury a treasure.”

Husk couldn’t help but scoff at how far this was going over her head. “He’s told me what he was doing in the woods that day plenty of times. Sounds real damn proud of it every time, too.” Another chug of whiskey; his brain was starting to shut down, and good for it. “Someone oughta dig that place up if they haven’t already…”

“...I don’t understand…” Clara’s voice trembled enough to make Husk wonder if she understood more than she wanted to admit.

“If it came to it, and you had to choose. Who would it be?” Husk asked.

“Huh?”

“Me or Alastor?”

“Why would I have to choose? I care about Alastor, but he may as well be my brother, and even if he wasn’t he’s never cared about relationships anyway. But you, Husk…” Clara smiled, her damned gentle smile, as she rested her paw over Husk’s. “You mean something different to me. Something special…”

Husk’s heart thumped against his own judgment as her soft, warm paw closed around his own. “I was actually thinking that maybe we could… if you were interested…” Her coy act was so rehearsed, but in different circumstances, it may have won Husk over.

These were not those circumstances. He growled as he yanked his hand away. “No. Not if being with you means I have to keep putting up with that fuckhead.”

“If you really care about me, then why can’t you accept someone who’s so important to me, who I’ve had since I was alive?” Clara asks. Husk was too drunk to decide whether or not the tears in her eyes were genuine or not.

He truly wished he could care more, but without the whiskey doing its job at numbing his emotions, this conversation might have turned even uglier than it already had.

“There’s a lot he’s keeping from you, Clara, and I’m pretty sure you know more than he realizes you do. And until you can come to terms with who that bastard really is, this ain’t gonna work between us.”

“Husk…” she pleaded, gazing at him with dark, tear-filled eyes. “Please… please understand my situation… no matter what he’s done, you can’t really expect me to let go of someone who’s taken care of me for so long…”

“And you can’t expect me to forgive someone who’s been treating me as badly as he has for so long.” Husk went to pour himself another drink, but found to his irritation that the bottle was empty. “Fuck it. I’m going back to the bar.” He moved to stand up from her bed, but with those eyes still transfixed on him, he found it difficult to move.

…fuck. Fine. Just one more thing.

“Before I go…” He rested a paw on Clara’s cheek, and slowly leaned in for a kiss. She accepted his mouth on hers, firmly holding still for a few seconds before he pulled back. She tried to place her paws on the back of his head and pull him back in for more, but he resisted and finally stood up.

“If you want me to do that again, then figure shit out.” With that, Husk was gone from the room, headed back to the bar in the hopes that he could drink her taste out of his memory.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #irk blubbers about nothing #irk huskposts #irk got asked a thing #irk talks to strangers

[ainyan]

Incorrect Quotes - Kalicred Edition

Generate your own Incorrect Quotes with this generator!

Kal'istae: As top in this relationship, I think we should- Thancred: I can't believe you're pulling rank on me.

Ahem...

Thancred: There are 20 letters in the alphabet, right? Kal'istae: Nope, there's 26. Thancred: Ah, I must have forgotten U, R, A, Q, T. Kal'istae: Aww, that's cute, but you're still missing one. Thancred: You'll get the D later ;).

Promises, promises.

Kal'istae: I don't need to go to bed. I'm not tired, I'll be fine. Thancred: But, darling, I'll be so lonely without you. Come curl up in my arms so I can feel whole again. Kal'istae: O-oh. Well. Are you trying to seduce me into healthy sleeping patterns?? Thancred: Is it working?

Pretty sure this one is canon...

Kal'istae: Sorry I’m late, I was doing things. Thancred: Hi, I’m ‘things’.

Y'shtola: Every freaking time...

Thancred: Kal'istae is playing hard to get. Thancred: Little do they know, I'm a master at playing hard to get rid of.

Truth.

Kal'istae: The stars are so beautiful… Thancred: They're just giant balls of gas. Kal'istae: You know what, if you're just going to ruin this, then- Thancred: And yet none of them are as huge as my love for you. Kal'istae: Oh…

Ah yes, Thancred, Mr. Smooth.

Thancred: I have feelings for you. Kal'istae: Why? What's wrong with you? Are you sure you're okay?

Another canon encounter.

Please! Share your own! I'd love to see what you come up with for your own OCs and ships!

#ffxiv #kal'istae miurani #thancred waters #wolcred #kalicred #meme: incorrect quotes

[viilpstick]

For no reason in particular (I do have a hidden reason) do u have a viuna relationship timeline or mayhaps just their relationship dynamic??👀👀

TAKE A DEEP BREATH PARTNER BC U CAME TO THE RIGHT PERSON AT THE RIGHT TIME

Heh… I am having a Viuna brainrot 😭… Again-

I love them so much and I feel dumb because I NEVER talked about their troupes and time line- Like “congrats girlie! people still can’t predict what is ur oc lore, try again later 😍”

Try to tag along, this was longer than expected 🤩 (i am terribly sorry)

Also tumblr fuck u for deleting half of this, making me have to write it all again 🥲🥲

Stage 1- First meeting: Unbeknownst to Yuuna, who was desperately trying to blend into the expectations surrounding her, Vil saw beyond the facade and glimpsed the strain in her eyes. Their initial interaction was polite, it was on book 2, where the moment she stepped on the room it was that silly saying “love at first sight”, but definitely she had a small puppy crush on him, she would tend to notice him more often than before, not just because he is a housewander, but he had a charm… Nothing too intriguing or away from casual happened; there lingered an unspoken connection that neither of them could ignore, but that would be reviewed later on.

Stage 2- Deal with the Schoenheit: In book 5, Vil had an idea for how to win people’s attention for his upcoming competition with Neige LeBlanc: Dating someone, if he showed to be gentle not just with fans and cameras but with a partner, maybe it would catch others eyes. After class, he proposed the idea of a fake dating scenario to Yuuna, a friend, and thought he didn’t knew her for not that long, it seemed like the perfect solution, she had the elegance and pretty. Without counting, people were intrigued by the magicless girl, and how she helped and fought 4 overblots, who wouldn’t like to look further more up on them?

Stage 3- Fake it and pretend it: It started simple; they had to pretend as if not wanting to get caught on public together, but oddly enough, they would be weirdly close whenever “out of public”, the first one to noticed was Floyd who told Azul immediately. And with that, the rumor started. After the rumor spread, it was more obvious, he would drop off her in class, she would sit down with Vil instead of Ace, Deuce and Grim. The bomb it was when Jamil was back to get something he had forgotten when he was practicing, he caught along with Kalim; even though it was only one kiss and Vil promised never to do it again… Yuuna feel like she wouldn’t mind doing it again. After that, they would walk to class holding hands, he would kiss her forehead, hold her waist, gift her flowers and all those things. Just two more weeks.

Stage 4- First one to fall: Yuuna just had one problem, she started to become more what she thought Vil wanted her to be, just like she did with her parents. She was a mirror of what people input expectations over her, as the girlfriend of a famous model like Vil. So, one day the panic was stronger, she missed the first period of class until Vil comes to see her; Yuuna was laying on the floor, hugging her knees and crying. Afraid to have the same problem she had with her parents all over again, after all she finally was able to get a personality of her own. The more Vil approached, the more he notices her afraid of him. Yuuna had bad memories and was taught that cry is for the weeks, so he expected the rightful punishment, but instead… He stays there for her reassuring it’s okay and he has the time to hear her. After that, Yuuna has fallen… She had fallen for Vil, for his dedication and understanding. And for finally feeling appreciated. There’s one week left.

Stage 5- We still pretending, right?: After that, Yuuna has got more comfortable around Vil. She felt save, and she did pushed herself trying to make advances on Vil (she never did so), at least she tried. And Vil- He was confused, suddenly everything he was doing didn’t felt only platonic or a pretend relationship. It felt he wanted that with her… But his mind immediately stop the thoughts, one day she would go back home and her home is not in that world. Why hope for something stupid? No wishing well would make that one come true. Half of a week to go.

Stage 6- Ink flows: Vil poisons Neige. That was the shock for his overblot, he tried to take out his opponent! The overblot caused everything to decay, everyone was tired after the fight, Vil was recovering and Yuuna… Well, she was the one who jumped in front of Vil when she saw something that was going to hurt him falling down. Yuuna rushes to not get Vil hurt, and she was able to do so. But now she is also the one who needs rest, she quietly lays on the bed of the nursery. When she hears the door crack open in the middle of the night, “Yuuna?”

Stage 7- The public saw enough: They are similar, aren’t they? Vil lived on the shadows of the main characters. Yuuna is the shadow, the reflection, the dark. Everything but, the hero of their stories… Their own stories. Vil was wrong he knows that, Yuuna didn’t tried to defend him, as she was too disappointed to say anything about it. Not disappointed to him, she was mad, but she knew the pain he felt… That’s the point; Yuuna was disappointed with herself because she knew how he felt and she doesn’t know how to make him not feel that. “I don’t think we need to pretend more, right?” She asks Vil. Yuuna was tired of the pretend game, she caught feelings that were never going to be spoken out loud, and Vil… Still missing for some things for his puzzle of feelings. “Yeah, I think we are done. Thank you for your help, Yuuna.” He says his heart breaking as if really going through an actual break up. Looking away Vil ties his hair up trying to get the fresh air better. It all felt suffocating. Meanwhile Yuuna stands looking at the door, she wants to do what she has in mind, she can’t.

Stage 8- The finale: It’s been long enough, after the SDC’s results Rook told Vil to trust himself more and this would be his the key, right? So he trusts that Yuuna likes him back… He hopes, at least. After all, Vil, despite his initial disdain for fairy tale illusions, couldn't deny the allure of Yuuna's true self. He liked that side, the side where she doesn’t work for people’s expectations, but she works for herself. That’s what made him fall.

Vil: What are we?

Yuuna: Friends, right?

Vil: No… What are we, Yuuna?

Yuuna: . . . ?

Vil: *Sighs* I just… I just cannot seem to ignore that half things I did with you were just a platonic or pretend thing.

Yuuna: . . .

Vil: Sevens… Say something!

Yuuna: . . .

Yuuna: You have the most beautiful heart, I’ve seen, Vil. You are so kind and determined, and even with the overblot fiasco, you never give up.

Vil: . . .

Yuuna: You are simply the fairest of them all, Vil Schoenheit. I just wish you could see it…

Yuuna: And I’ve fallen for you, yet you deserve so much better-

Vil: *Cuts her with a kiss*

Yuuna: *Speechless but happy*

Vil: *Pulls away* But I want you. I love you too, Yuuna.

To say, Yuuna would choose Vil because of him, not his looks, because just like Rook said, the only one who can tell he is the fairest of them all is himself, Yuuna can only say he is the fairest of them all because of his personality. She read more deep into that more than anything.

HAPPY ENDING!! 🥳🥳

Extra: In Book 6, Vil panicked that Yuuna would leave him because of his older appearance. Which she shakes her head and promises that he wouldn’t be going around any time soon. <3 Until, Book 7 where they have an argument because Yuuna is conflicted between Vil and her home, meanwhile Vil thinks he is an insuficiente reason for her to stay.

Anyway, to answer what troupe they are as a resume for their story since you also asked, and since I think not everyone wants to read 50 pages essay 😰:

Fake dating (friends to lover type)

Soulmates (kinda of? i mean they are kinda of trauma bounded 😓)

She fell first, both fell unconditionally harder

And for the last but not least; forbidden love/right person, not enough time (<- basically all of my oc x canon troupes 😘)

sorry for the long ass ramble but I hope you like it!! and sorry that tumblr deleted it make it longer for me to answer (pay my time back tumblr.)

(tagging; @justm3di0cr3 after all, she is one of us, viuna’s shippers. 🙏)

#𐙚 moots ♡ #inbox 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ✧ #♡ ! mah #⋆ ࣪ 𖥔 . yuuna #⋆ ࣪ 𖥔 . vil schoenheit #⋆ ࣪ 𖥔 . viuna #barbs' writes 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ♡

[twst-beam]

TWST MOOTSTERLIST

get it. because- okay nevermind i'm so sorry for the pun

@0klwkan: aavvie!! my first twst mutual and the person who brought me into it in the first place!! they are SO cool go check them out :DD vian my beloved <333 jamil smoocher 🫵🏽.

@shutupkida: kida!! i got to know her through stalking her blog because of her awesome fics the bllk-twst crossover! :DD i'll work on it i promise i just need to get my brain juice working :'D

@nem0-nee: KABABAYAN (1) honestly her art is just ??????? *chef's kiss* i am smooching your art i am eating it i am putting it on a pedestal and staring at it mwah. nemo reigns in chaos supremacy 😌

@officialdaydreamer00: ireneeee 🥺 my Soulmate 🥺🥺🥺 they're just like me fr fr. i saw them on auburn's blog and went 🫵🏽. 🫵🏽🫵🏽🫵🏽. wedding planner, fellow muse, tweel kisser, super mega amazing 😌.

@shyhaya: i saw haya on irene's blog and went ??? friend! very shy, but the art is *chef's kiss*, and her responses to tag games are very entertaining <333

@mangocat21: they've got AWESOME art :DD new to art??? seriously?? with that style?? i am deceased dead gone ascended to heaven that is SO cool OoO got into twst for leona got trapped by the floyd >:3

@azulashengrottospiano: auburn!! literally married to azul and writes absolutely BANGER fics. i'm still kicking my feet and giggling over some of them ///>v<///

@the-v-lociraptor: fellow muse!! her boy yuliy is a GIANT and VERY fun to draw :DD also her art and lore??? 🛐🛐🛐

@valerie-leech: valerieee!! she's so pretty omg and her art is AMAZING :DD fellow muse (and tweel kisser..? or is it just jade.. :00)

@i-like-forgs: ryoko!! fellow muse and a cool person 😎 i always see them on my activity feed thank you 🥺

@taruruchi: KABABAYAN (2) her art is so good like ???? VERY entertaining and a great mutual too :DD

@starry-night-rose: ellis!! her stuff??? so many things planned out and her ocs are SUPER intriguing :DD looking at u rn in curiosity and interest

@shkrmpp: shrimpy!! i saw one of their posts that said new moots were welcome so i proposed ^v^ <333 and their WRITING.. emotions go brrrr

@hydrangea-breeze: hydra!! her writing????? reading it all up and going 👀👀👀 and her posts and tags too i love reading them they're so entertaining ^v^

@totallymem3: KABABAYAN (3) her art???? going yes yes yes every time 😌 her yuu sounds SO fun to see and know about :DD

@synchronize03: YOU. you were responsible for the blowing up of my airport-leash-but-twst meme. a GOLDMINE of reblogs 😌

@ceruleancattail: ceruuuu!!!! cater kisser coughcough they are AMAZING as in VERY. VERY AMAZING. eloquence and elegance and flustering-capabilities are off the CHARTS they constantly make me go ADFGHJKHGFDSDFGHJKJHGH with their fics

@cookiesandbiscuits: KABABAYAN (4) cookie!! i saw her follow me one day and went :0000 called me cool once and i love her for it 🥺 PLAYLIST MAKER!! i was looking through some stuff again and found you!! went so THAT'S who cookie was how could i forget 😭😭😭 music taste is *chefs kiss* i'm gonna be jamming along to songs with you mwah mwah

@names-are-dumb: COLE I'M SO SORRY I DIDN'T SEE YOU IN MY TWST ACCOUNT FOLLOWS I AM ASHAMED FOR THIS GRIEVOUS OVERSIGHT 😭😭😭 anyway! this guy's brain is HUGE. like. the midas lore?? hello?? looking looking looking but also not going in with a ten-foot pole if i can help it ya boy's kinda scary but fascinating. very fascinating indeed 😌

@the-dumber-scaramouche: KABABAYAN (5), likes bicol express according to one of the posts i first saw on her blog :DD mainly simps for ???? definitely kaveh but there's a lot of conflicting posts for twst, and did i mention how ENTERTAINING her tags are I'm grinning ear to ear just reading them

@vioisgoinginsane: vio!! fellow jade faver (?) 🥺🥺🥺 her scenario posts are GENIUS and i love love LOVE her reblogs and tags. super supportive too like ????? <333333

@luvkamishiro: new moot!! BANGER art and ideas like seriously :000 seems super nice too :DD

@perfectlyunadulteratedjellyfish: KABABAYAN (6) dan!!! so nice 🥺 looking forward to getting to know them more :DD

@allioaro: new moot!! i saw her ruggie as housewarden post on my dash and got intrigued :DD her art is so cute it looks so soft and pretty 🥺🥺🥺 IMMACULATE and fun vibes detected as i looked through her blog 😌 idia smoocher >:D

@shinysparklesapphires: sapph!!! i CANNOT believe you haven't put here yet i SWEAR i already wrote one for you :((( absolutely INTERESTING OCs right here, and she's so cool??? first one to draw my babygirl everiu other than me thank you SO much 🥹🥹🥹 xeir oc lore?? once again going 👀👀👀👀👀 INTRIGUED by it 😌

@katriniac: ooooh she cooool. not much info about her, we just started following each ohter one day and i have no recollection of past interactions but SUPER honored to be moots with you!!

@dove-da-birb: DOVE!!!! they're so cool and supportive and nice and ASDFGHJKFJLDRNGNRJVNFHDQWHSLFJF 🥺🥺🥺🥺 AWESOME writer and friend and also their OCs????? writing blog is @da-birb-writes-sometimes go check it out for super good stories it'll be so worth it mwah mwah

@honkai-freak: new moot!! met them during the I-tweel-I wedding and they asked to be an usher! :DD

@somany-fandoms-solittle-time: aims!! fellow theater kid 🥺🥺🥺💖💖💖💖 has BANGER ideas and great music taste like seriously also so fun to interact with????

@murderisokay: new moot!! new to tumblr, apparently, but that's okay :DD vil smoocher?? 👀👀👀 also their artstyle is super cute and neat it's so nommable XD

@twistwonderlanddevotee: sofia!!!!! new moot and already a RIOT to be around :DDD like seriously she's so fun and she makes awesome wallpapers???? ALSO LIKES ARTEMIS FOWL AND MLB YES YES YES

tags i can copy-paste for convenience 😎 (apologies if you receive a double notification :'D): @0klwkan, @shutupkida, @nem0-nee, @officialdaydreamer00, @shyhaya, @mangocat21, @azulashengrottospiano, @the-v-lociraptor, @valerie-leech, @i-like-forgs, @taruruchi, @starry-night-rose, @shkrmpp, @hydrangea-breeze, @totallymem3, @synchronize03, @ceruleancattail, @cookiesandbiscuits, @names-are-dumb, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @vioisgoinginsane, @luvkamishiro, @perfectlyunadulteratedjellyfish, @allioaro, @shinysparklesapphires

more moots..? :00 yeet me an ask or comment or reblog if you wanna :DD let's be mutuals! ^v^

#calira rambles #mootsterlist #twst mootsterlist