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#with 'get you a little bear who looks at you like this'
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If It All Fell (7)
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: Angst, PINING, Azriel's POV and he is incredibly sad
a/n: Yay here's more <3 I promise it gets happy and there's a little teaser of what that'll look like in this part. Let me know what you think pleaseee :)
Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)
~~
Azriel 
Azriel’s heart came to a thudding halt.
“What was that?” he asked softly, trying to play it off. Trying to pretend as if you hadn’t just asked him the one question he had hoped would never come. Because you were supposed to get better before it came to this. 
He had begged the Mother for any kind of reprieve.
She hadn’t listened, as Azriel had expected. 
“Mates,” you slurred, your head bobbing on his shoulder. The High Lords had exhausted you. “Helion said you… he said something about a mate. I can’t remember exactly… but no one’s told me what that is.” 
Pure adoration tore at Azriel’s chest. Your words blurred together as you sunk deeper into his arms, and Gods, did he love you. He let himself imagine that you were drunk—just for a moment. You were drunk and still his and he was carrying you home after a night at Rita’s. 
“Azriel?” 
The moment ended and panic replaced the temporary comfort that had consumed him. 
“Yes, my love?” It had slipped, a mistake fueled by his clouded mind. Azriel counted his footsteps and held his breath, but you only hummed in response, too drained to notice the endearment that had fallen with such desperation from his lips. 
“You were telling m’about mates,” you reminded him. Your arm slipped from his neck and landed in your lap. Azriel held you closer, feeling your body begin to lose its grip. 
“Of course,” he dutifully replied. “A mate is… it is a gift from the cauldron. An equal to share a bond with.”
“Like a lover?”
Azriel could hardly piece your words together with the way they tumbled out. 
That, and his stomach was twisting, reminding him of the very bond that was crying out within him. This was wrong. It was all so terribly wrong. He didn’t have to have this conversation with you last time; it had hurt you too much to even hint at the topic. 
Back then, Azriel had been so deep in anguish he couldn't keep food down, so desperate to just speak to you that his body rejected all else. 
This was somehow worse.
“Much stronger,” he whispered, pressing his nose to your temple in an act of weakness. You didn’t notice. “Our souls are linked—mates I mean. A mating bond doesn’t always lead to the pair being lovers, but if they choose to do so, it’s enhanced. It’s unexplainable, truly, having someone connected to you that you love so deeply.” 
“That sounds nice,” you mused, a melodic flow of syllables starkly contrasting the effort with which Azriel was trying to string his sentences together. 
“It is.” He gave in to his urges and looked down at you in his arms, your hair flushed against his leathers, your face soft and drowsy. “It is wonderful.” 
You cracked an eye open. Azriel had stopped walking. “Do you have one?” 
“What?” he choked out. 
“You speak as if you know the feeling well. Do you have a mate, Azriel?” 
“I—” There were no thoughts in his head, nothing but the sound of your voice and your question repeating itself like a bell tolling in a vicious pattern. “Yes,” he sputtered out. “I do, yes.” 
You smiled softly, but it was paired with a furrowed brow and a light sigh. “Good,” you nodded to yourself. “You deserve a mate.” 
Too much talking, too much thinking; your head lulled into his arm, face against his chest, and you were asleep. 
Yes, this was much worse than the last time. 
Azriel adjusted his grip and carried you back to the room you didn’t know belonged to the both of you. 
~~
The pounding in your head was your first indication that you were awake. You moved your hand to your hairline before opening your eyes, applying pressure in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure there. 
Useless. 
A small groan made its way up your throat. The night before, or whenever it was—you had no idea how long you’d been sleeping—was a jumbled mess in your mind. You remembered meeting Helion, being told you were in love with him, being told that you actually weren’t in love with him, and then he and Rhysand had entered your mind and left you as nothing more than a vegetable. 
There were other pieces too, like Azriel carrying you back to your room and talking about… mates? Yes, that sounded right—the larger-than-life, effervescent partners bestowed upon fae by the cauldron. 
And he had told you that he had one. 
That was good. Great, even. Something stirred within you, an uncomfortable feeling, but you ignored it in favor of the pain radiating across your head. Gods, why did it hurt so much? 
Helion and Rhysand had been in your mind. They were going to discuss things with you. 
You shot up far too quickly, the motion sending shooting pains up your neck. 
“What?” you heard a voice panic. “What is it? Are you hurt?” 
Another jarring look to the side and you just about passed out from the pain. You caught a glimpse of Azriel before you squeezed your eyes shut to try and manage it, his large form folded into a chair by the door that was certainly not made to accommodate wings. You lowered your head into your hands and heard the chair screech against the floor. 
“What is it, y/n?” Azriel asked, voice closer now. 
You let out a shaky sigh. “Sorry, just—it’s my head, give me a moment.” 
He didn’t speak, but the room became dark. That seemed like an impossible feat, with the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the walls and letting in the rays of the day court sun. But the pounding in your head receded a fraction, and you could tell it was dimmer even from behind your eyelids. 
“Does that help?” he asked, so low you could barely hear him. 
You felt his breath at your arm. 
“Yes,” you whispered back, and when you opened your eyes, Azriel was there. His wings had circled you, encasing you in a darkness that blocked out the world, his knees at the side of your bed. 
“You got up too quickly,” Azriel offered.
“I know, but I wanted to hear what the High Lords had to say about the witch and my memories and what I need to do to fix everything. Have you heard anything?”
“Very little. I’ve been here.” 
“For how long?” 
“You slept for a day and a half.” 
“And you stayed the entire time?” 
“You requested I stay by your side. You’ve been here.” 
You bit into your lip, the heavy weight of guilt loading onto your chest. Azriel flinched as if he felt it himself. “I wanted to stay,” he comforted. “It puts me at ease to… see you while we’re in this court. To know exactly where you are and who’s around you.” 
“Because of last time,” you stated, but it was a question that hung in the air. 
Azriel’s eyes tracked along the planes of your face. His hand twitched. “Yes, because of last time.” 
He looked so serious, bordering on forlorn. Despite the pain in your head and the conflicting emotions rising within you, you attempted to lessen some of the load that seemed to bogg the shadowsinger down. 
“You could have taken shifts with Cassian, you know. Or even, I don’t know, laid on the bed that’s the size of a small apartment. I was out cold the entire time—didn’t wake up once. I wouldn’t have noticed if you did,” you offered with a hint of a smirk playing at your lips. 
Azriel’s gaze dropped to your mouth, his own expression lightening. “Cassian would fall asleep immediately. And, just to let you know, you did wake up. Several times.” 
You gave him a doubtful look. “I think I would remember that.” 
The shadowsinger bit back a smile and something within you shone at the playful look in his eye. “Right, so you don’t remember waking up and practically ripping that from my body?” 
His eyes shot down to your chest, an action which you followed to find a large, unfamiliar sweater swathing your body in warmth. You looked further down at your hands, only to find the sleeves of the garment covering your palms and fingers as well. 
An incredulous laugh bubbled in your chest. “I wouldn’t—I didn’t actually rip this off of you, did I?” 
Azriel shifted his knees into a kneeling position beside you, his wings shuffling and creating a sound you had begun to find comfort in. “Well, you didn’t exactly ask politely.” 
You groaned and shoved your face back into your hands. “Gods, that’s embarrassing. It’s because I was delirious, I swear. Those damn High Lords scrambled my brain.” 
“Y/n, you have a penchant for demanding things in your sleep. Food, water, clothing, more blankets. Once you woke up to ask me for an entire roast duck and in the morning you had no recollection. You were quite aggravated that night.” 
“No, stop, I can’t take this. I am melting into a puddle of mortification and you are making it worse.” 
Azriel chuckled. “It’s alright. I’ve grown used to it over the years. It’s almost charming, really.” 
You peeked through your sweater-clad fingers. “You can’t mean that.” 
“I mean it very sincerely. When you are sick or unwell, you sleep through the entire night. When you wake up and grab the neck of my sweater like you’re robbing me, I know things are okay.” 
You groaned again, this time tilting your head back and immediately regretting the action when a pulse of pain permeated along your temples. But it wasn’t so bad anymore; Azriel and his wings made it better. 
You took a moment to gaze upon his face in the proximity. He was smiling slightly, some humor still shining in his hazel eyes. The occasional shadow made a pass along his cheeks and by his ear, whispering secrets you weren’t privy to and then coming to wind around your body as well. His hair was mused and untamed, landing in soft patterns across his forehead. 
Azriel was so beautiful it hurt. 
“Does your mate ever get upset that we are so close?” you asked, the question not even fully formed in your head before it entered the space.
The smile slipped from Azriel’s lips and you regretted your impulsivity almost instantly. 
“No,” he answered, a slight shake of his head. “I wouldn’t worry about that.” 
“Has something happened? Between the two of you?” 
“Y/n, please don’t worry yourself over—” 
“It’s just—Azriel, I know how hard all of this has been on you. When you spoke of your mate it was the first time I saw you look at peace. That’s why I’m asking.” 
“You remember what I said?” 
“All of it,” you smiled, but Azriel only looked grave. “Az—"
The shadowsinger jutted back as the familiarity left your lips. He sent his shadows out, their configuring forms covering the windows and the cracks in the doors until it was dark enough for him to remove his wings from around you. With him went the comfort of night-kissed air and warmth and all of the things that made sense in this life you had been dropped into. 
“Rhys has requested that we meet in the study to discuss findings,” Azriel relayed, clearing his throat and standing from his place on the bed. “I laid out some of your things and a servant ran a bath when you started to stir. Do you need help—” 
“I’ve got it,” you interrupted, eyes downcast, feeling as though you’d ruined something that was already painfully delicate. 
“I’ll be here if you need me. Just outside the door.” 
You believed him—you did—but something was missing. Something you couldn’t keep up with. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he was in love with someone. Mor, maybe? Or one of the sisters Cassian talked about on occasion? 
The thought of him with his mate made you nauseous. 
You shouldn’t have asked. 
~~
“A replication?” you asked, running a hand along the side of your head in an attempt to look casual about the throbbing taking place there. “So… it is like last time?” 
“Partially, but because the witch’s powers aren’t pure, she was unable to mimic what a full daemati can do. So, same outcome, fewer side effects,” Rhys offered, a calming presence across the table. “Witches often find sources to draw from because they don’t have access to their natural abilities any longer. Your source was—” 
“An opening in her mind,” Azriel concluded, expression guarded as he sat stiffly beside you. “There were remaining injuries in her mind. The witch found her weak points and used them against her.” 
Helion nodded, rounding one of the more ornate chairs and basking in the light streaming through the window. “Very astute. We thought there were no remnants of—” 
“Don’t say his name,” Azriel warned. 
“—of the attack,” Helion quickly corrected, obviously not in the mind to start an argument with the keyed-up spymaster. “But they must have been miniscule. We think she must have been an old witch, very practiced.” 
“So what do we do now?” Cassian gruffly asked, arms crossed as he leaned against the windowsill. You turned to look at him, but the sunlight casting his shadow sent your head ablaze. You quickly righted your gaze and squeezed your eyes shut to compensate. 
You felt shadows stalk beneath your feet and across the floor until they consumed the light of the window. If anyone had any comments on the shadowsinger’s act, they didn’t voice them. 
“Now,” Helion breathed out, dropping into a chair and interlacing his fingers atop the oak table. “We wait. Just like the last time, this kind of power is not something we can simply undo. We need a witch, and witches are incredibly elusive.” 
Trepidation gripped your heart, sending your lungs into a fiery descent. You were just supposed to wait? Wait and hope that maybe, possibly, they would find a witch and fix this before your life moved on without you in it?
Your breath came out in quick, uneven puffs, exacerbating the ache in your head. 
Azriel sat up in his seat, high alert and on the defensive. 
But Rhysand was quicker than his spymaster’s anger. “There is the possibility that this wears off on its own.” 
Your eyes snapped up. “Was that a possibility last time?” 
“No,” Cassian remarked, brows shot up to his hairline. “That’s why you were missing for so long and in so much pain after. You both made it clear that there was no moving whatever the daemati put in her head.” 
Helion and Rhysand shared a look, but your High Lord was the one to speak. “It was weaker this time, more permeable. We think, with time, the wall the witch attempted to replicate will break down and you’ll have everything back. She did only do this to you to flee from attack. It wasn't personal.” 
“How much time?” Azriel strained. 
Helion replied this time. “There is no way to know, shadowsinger.” 
“What about the pain? You said fewer side effects but I couldn’t even have light in my room this morning.” 
Rhysand looked sheepish, eyes darting over to the window still opaque with shadows. “Yes, well—we may have pushed you a bit too far during our assessment.” 
Cassian let out a disbelieving huff from the corner of the room. Azriel gripped the arms of his chair until they groaned. 
“So it’ll go away?” you asked, desperation trickling into your tone. 
The wood beneath Azriel’s hands splintered. 
“Yes, very soon. We can give you some tonics before you leave as well. They will help speed up the process,” Helion promised, eyeing his chair being slowly destroyed. 
In a motion that felt almost second nature, you covered the spymaster’s hand with your own, shadows wrapping around the press of your skin. It was then that you noticed the ring. Silver and unassuming, it took up residence on the ring finger of his left hand and looked like it belonged no place else. 
Our souls are linked, he had said, talking about his mate with such passion. 
You removed your hand from his. 
Azriel flexed his fingers upon your departure. 
“We were thinking,” Rhysand began after a pregnant pause that seemed to blanket the room. “With your pain, we might want to stay a few more days. Winnowing can add extra pressure to the body and flying would—” 
“No,” you were quick to dispute. “No, I want to go home. It’s lovely here, Helion, and I thank you for all you’ve done and are doing, but I want to go back to the Night Court. I want to try and live the life I’ve made for myself, even if I have no idea what I’m doing.” Another pause. “If that’s okay.” 
“Of course that’s okay,” Azriel spoke from beside you. His words sounded dull, his fingers remaining outstretched on the chair. 
“We will continue looking for the witch on our side,” Helion nodded, pushing out of his chair. He came before you then, meeting your gaze. “I cannot apologize enough for what your time in my court has cost you. I only hope that all will return to you. I have missed you, y/n.” 
And then the High Lord of Day was gone, and you had no recollection as to why he would miss you in the first place. Everyone was saying they missed you, even as you stood before them unharmed and intact. 
A harsh reality slammed into you with the departure of the High Lord. 
If you didn’t get your memories back—if there were no witches or deteriorating walls in your mind—they would continue to miss you. You would forever be a husk of your former self, never understanding the full picture of who you were. 
But that wasn’t okay with you—not at all. 
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toniiswrld · 2 days
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can you write play fighting gone sexual smut for sohee🤭
cw. smut +18 mdni , dom!sohee x fem reader, bestfriends to lovers, fingering, unprotected sex (be safe), some hair pulling, sohees mean but not in a super dom way hehe. not proofread so sorry for any errors!!
“do you think i could win in a fight against a bear?” sohee blurts randomly, you both sitting in silence on opposite ends of the couch, both scrolling through social media for the past hour.
“sohee, you couldn’t even win a fight against me, you’re not beating a bear” you just laugh, not even looking at him while you respond.
“i could totally beat you in a fight, what the fuck?” he frowns, sitting up slightly. you finally take your eyes off you phone, sitting up as well so you could be face to face with sohee. you could tell he took your comment serious, and you were only half joking, but you honestly thought you could beat him in a fight.
so you punch him, right in the arm. he winces, moving away from you while he whines at the pain. you try to hold back a smile, not wanting to find amusement in your friends pain.
“i didn’t even hit you that hard, you really think you could take a bear down?” you finally let out a laugh, not being able to hold it in any longer as you watch him rub his now sore arm.
“you caught me off guard! give me a chance to fight back…” he pouts, eyebrows furrowed as he watched you laugh at his reaction.
“okay, let’s go” you get off the couch, getting into a fighting stance while you wait for sohee to get up himself.
so you two have a little fight match, throwing weak punches at eachother and petty slaps. sohee wouldn’t really use full force when fighting with you, but he didn’t want to lose this fight even if it wasn’t real.
“you’re not even hitting hard, i thought you were stronger than this?” you giggle, getting a hit in after dodging him.
“i am strong, i’m just going easy on you” he grumbles, feeling like you doubted his strength too much.
“yeah, sure you are” another giggle leaves your lips, and sohee decides he wasn’t going to be easy on you anymore.
he’s coming towards you before you can process his movements, and you’re suddenly over his shoulder with a swift movement and then being thrown back onto the couch, sohee on top of you with his legs in between your waist. your eyes are wide, not expecting a sudden shift in the air as he used his strength to throw you around that you didn’t even know he had. his hands held your wrist down on both sides of your head, and he’s staring down at you and smirking at your shocked expression as you catch your breath.
“told you i was strong,” he grins, feeling good that he was able to prove you wrong. but when he looked at your face again and stared into your eyes he could see that something was different.
you were still breathing hard, eyes traveling to take in your position. you were under your best friend, who honestly, was extremely hot, and you two definitely had some tension that was never discussed, but the air was thick, and whatever you did after this moment would change the status of your relationship with the boy forever.
sohees eyes move to your lips, then down to your boobs that spill out from your shirt, then back to your lips, and then to your eyes. you look at him too, his eyes almost asking you a question. your eyes had the answer, but he wanted to hear it from you.
you shift under him, lifting your hips just a little so he could feel you brush against him. your hands try to break from his grip but he doesn’t budge, pressing down on your wrists harder.
“admit that i’m stronger than you and i’ll let you go” he’s borderline whispering, but you hear him loud and clear. you take it as a challenge, moving your hips up again to brush against his now growing cock. his eyes shut for a moment, but he has to stand his ground.
he wants to assume you’re moving to get out of his hold and don’t realize what you’re doing… but you know exactly what you’re doing and you weren’t going to stop. you squirm some more, moving your arms to try and sit up and he presses his body weight on you to keep you down, shifting up slightly which causes his dick to press against your core and you have to bite the inside of your lips to keep yourself from making a sound.
“stop moving around,” he groans, not being able to handle the pressure of you moving against him, wanting to prove his point quickly so he can pretend like he wasn’t extremely hard right now.
“let me go” your voice is flat, no real fight or sign of discomfort.
“gonna admit i’m stronger than you?” he doesn’t know how much more he can handle, and with the way you’re challenging him all he wants to do is flip you over and fuck you stupid to prove just how strong he is. he just needs one more push from you.
“what if i don’t?”
the second your eyebrow lifts in a way to taunt him, he’s leaning down to connect your lips to his. you reciprocate a little too fast, like you two have been waiting for this moment your whole lives. you gasp onto his lips from the lack of breath you were taking in and he takes that as an opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, flicking his tongue against yours before biting your bottom lip and pulling away. once he’s far enough from your face you can see how red he was, lips parted as he blinks a few times and catches his breath.
“please tell me you want this as much as i do,” he pants, looking at you intensely for any sign for him to stop. he was really hoping that you wanted him, he doesn’t think he could handle the uembarrassment of leaving this situation and trying to go back to normal.
“want it- need you so bad sohee” you whine and arch into him, your clit throbs in your underwear that was most likely soaked through, and you try to chase his lips with yours as he’s pulling further away from you.
sohee curses under his breath, he doesn’t know where to start with you, but he quickly sit up, softening his grip on your wrists so you could sit up, propping yourself up against your hands while you wait for sohee to touch you.
he doesn’t speak, he sits in front of you while his hands move to grope your chest, squeezing harshly so he could feel as much as he could despite the padding from the garment. you watch how he’s in his own little world, you wonder what he’s thinking in the moment, but you let him take you in at his own pace.
he’s tugging on your shirt like an eager puppy, so you help him remove it to reveal your breasts sitting perfectly in your bra. his jaw drops, and he has to shut it to stop himself from drooling. you were so beautiful to him, he’d never admit it but he’s imagined this moment too many times but seeing you in front of him like this was way better than his lust filled imagination. he’s pulling at the hem of his shirt, tossing the fabric somewhere in the living room exposing his perfectly toned stomach, pretty moles decorating his skin.
“sohee” you’re getting impatient, so you take your own hand and bring it to his forearm, shaking him out his trance.
“yes?” he snaps his head up to look you in the eyes, and you hold back a whimper at how hungry he looked. hungry for you.
“kiss me” it comes out just above a whisper and you don’t have to tell him twice before his lips are back on yours. it’s rushed and sloppy, both of you moaning into each other as his hand slips into your hair.
the hand that holds onto his forearm moves right on top of the bulge straining in his pants, squeezing it gently to hint at what you want. he’s taking off his pants quickly, kicking them off his ankles and sitting back on the couch while you follow his actions and take off your own pants.
“turn around” he’s speaking calmly in comparison to his heart that feels like its going to explode, watching you rest your knees on the couch cushions while your arms fold on the back of the couch to anchor your head. you turn your head to the side so you wont be completely facing the wall, but you’re still met with nothing as sohee was standing behind you.
his fingers trail across your body, light touches have you shivering and you bite your lip in anticipation of what he’s going to do. you clench around nothing when his fingers hook under the hem of your panties, pulling them down softly and he groans while watching a string of your arousal stick to the cloth as he pulls them down. if it weren’t for the way he reacted you would be embarrassed to be this wet from just some kissing. he drags a finger from your hole down to your clit and your body jerks, a whine threatening to leave your lips.
“you’re so wet,” he coos and you hiss when he applies pressure to the sensitive bud, you needed him inside of you now before you go insane.
“need you” you swirl your hips to push back on the rhythm sohee set on your clit, wanting more.
“can’t believe you got me all worked up for this” he slips two finger into your cunt and you clench around him instantly, a moan leaving your lips at the feeling of being full. he moves them slowly while his other hand pushes his boxers down so he can grab his aching cock, pumping it at the same pace he fucks his fingers into your cunt.
“not as strong as you thought huh” somehow you still manage to push his buttons in a situation like this, all he can do is shake his head at your determination to make him seem like he was weak.
“don’t push it” he curls his fingers while his voice drops as a warning, a whine is forced out of you while you look behind you to see him staring at your dripping pussy with his cock in hand.
“maybe if you’d just fuck me- oh” you’re cut off by his hand now on your hip and his cock pressing against your entrance, the tip slowly entering you and you both let out a whine… adjusting to the new feeling.
sohee has to stop himself from cumming too fast the second the tip of his dick is fully inside of you, you’re already clenching so hard around him he’s afraid of not lasting. he slowly pushes the rest of himself into your heat, praying that you’ll relax and he’ll be able to move.
“relax for me, baby” his hand on your waist moves to sooth you, he can’t move until you’re relaxed and no longer tense. it was hard to relax with how good he felt inside of you, his cock stretched you out perfectly and he was so deep right now you were already seeing stars.
“trying, feelsso good,” tears prickled your eyes as he pulls out almost completely, giving you an experimental thrust that has you convulsing. who would have thought sohee fucks like this? he does it again and your hands that were bent nicely to prop your head up were now gripping the couch hard enough to make your knuckles white.
with each slow but deep thrust sohee earns a moan feeling you, every time he bottoms out your thighs shake and you hold onto the couch as if your life depends on it. you were overwhelmed with emotion and the feeling of his cock hitting that sensitive spot inside of you has your orgasm building up fast.
it’s like he can read your mind, already knowing the signs of your orgasm by how you’re trying to save your breath as much as possible and the tenseness only getting worse. he’s honestly close too, but he knew he wouldn’t last long when it came to you. he wants to fuck you harder, he wants to praise you and talk you through your orgasm and kiss your face soothingly but he remembers why you two ended up like this in the first place.
so he pulls out, and you shake your head aggressively as the tears threaten to spill. he shushes you, fingers drawing circles on your waist while his other hand finds its place back in your cunt, thumb on your clit.
“sohee ‘m gonna cum”
“admit i’m stronger than you and i’ll let you cum,” he ignores the way you groan at his request, knowing he’s finally broken you and you’d say just about anything to get that sweet release. “c’mon baby, all you have to do is say it and I’ll make you feel so good,” he leans down so he can talk in your ear, your eyes rolling back from the stimulation and his words going straight to your clit.
one last swallow of your pride and you’re begging sohee to make you cum.
“you’re so — ngh, you’re so strong sohee, so so strong, please — fuck!”he couldn’t let you finish your sentence before he’s pushing himself back into you, this time he’s not going slow, and the hand that was on your waist holds your hair in a makeshift ponytail. he hits that sensitive spot over and over, your orgasm hitting you without warning and your body tries its best to pull away from the stimulation but sohee has his grip on you, forcing you to take everything he gives you.
“thats it, cum for me, fuck baby,” he helps you ride out your orgasm as much as possible before his hits, pulling out of you swiftly to stroke his cock until he’s groaning against your skin, white ropes of cum painting your inner thighs as you both catch your breaths. he’s moving from behind you to sit back on the couch, bringing you into his lap by your waist as you both sit in each others arms, skin to skin.
once your legs no longer feel like jelly, you and sohee make your way into the bathroom so you two could clean up.
“i’m definitely beating a bear in a fight” sohee ran domly blurts again, and you both laugh at his determination to this topic.
“maybe the bear is the friends we made along the way,” you pat his hair, giggling as you kiss him on the cheek. even after he fucked your brains out, you could never miss an opportunity to tease.
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a/n: rushed ending cuz ending fics is torture 🙈 but i hope you guys enjoyed <3
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Winter's King 12
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: have a good weekend.
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You stand, still uncertain. You look at the king as he tilts his face up to the moonlight. The silver sheen washes over him with an unearthly glow. He looks lupine, much like your dream.  
“Your highness?” You echo again, hands curling around the sides of your skirt. 
“Will you continue to disregard my order?” He challenges as his gold eyes meet yours. You wince at the way they shine. 
“No, your highness, I am only...” you hush yourself and clamp your lips tight. You turn and search around, numbly walking along the curve of the pond.  
He growls as you reach the line of hedges into the next walkway. 
“You will want to go much faster than that,” he warns as you hear him stand. “I will allow you some advance...” He exhales as you glance back at him, “ten...” he stares at you, his figure shrouded in shadow from far away, “nine...” 
You blanch and tumble backward through the gap. You spin and stagger on your soles, throwing your arms out as your heart pulses madly. Something about his timbre, about his words, has you alight. There is something amiss about him. 
You push your legs against your skirts and hurry blindly into the nocturnal void. The moonlight seeps in around the silhouette of leaves as you keep your hands ahead of you to prevent a collision. You try to see through the dark, like silk across your eyes, making out little more than hazy orbs. 
You crash into a thicket of thorns and pull away from the rosy bunch. Their scent clings onto you as you turn to the left and dive down the next path. You don’t know these gardens, not like Debray. For all you know, you’re going even deeper.  
You hear a step behind you and swirl to face it. You squint, trying to see who is there. Is it the king? Do you want it to be? What does he mean to do when he catches you? What is the meaning of this game? 
You plunge back into a sprint, puffing as you pump your arms. You whimper and whine as you slow, legs heavy and feet dull. Where are you going? You don’t like this. You remember a night like this before, how the cold dew of the forest crept up your legs, feet hitting the earth in quick succession, the holler of men and snort of horses behind you. 
You stagger and spin back. No, you can’t run anymore. You don’t like this. You don’t like those thoughts. That last night before you were taken to Debray, before you dawned the cap of your bearing. That orphan girl running from servitude. 
You walk forward, shaking as you peer back and forth. You wade through the thick grey air. You hear a twig snap and a bush rustle, each noise from a different direction. Perhaps it is a rabbit or a chipmunk. You sniffle and wring your hands. 
You must find the king. You will surrender this game and ask that he takes you back to the castle. You trudge over the beaten path and hear the soft trickle ahead. It must be the pond. The silver light blooms brighter as you come upon a space in the hedges. 
Suddenly, there is only air beneath your feet. You kick out as something rigid wraps around your waist and lifts you. You wriggle desperately and cry out, your eyes tinging but not overflowing. Your fear has you clawing at the hold around your middle. 
“Please, please, don’t hurt me!” You plead as you flail, “please, sir, I’ll go back to the castle--” you choke as the grasp on you slackens but your feet still do not meet the ground. You quiet as you recall your present, that you are not in that forest, that you are far from Debray. 
You are sat upon the bench, the silver moon gleaming down on you as it outlines the broad shadow before you. King Geralt faces you, kneeling as you tremble and hug yourself. You put your head down in shame. 
“Apologies, your highness, I was lost,” you reach to rub your cheek, flicking back your tears with your lashes, “I got confused.” 
“No, it is I who should apologise, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he takes your hand between his big ones, “I only meant to make some fun.” He brushes his touch up your arms and squeezes as you drop your hand to your lap, “little maid, did I hurt you?” 
You shake your head, “I was only... delirious. It is too dark out here. I cannot see,” you bite down and look away, “apologies, I did act out.” 
“Little maid,” he tickles along your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine, “I would not let you get lost or hurt.” He tilts his hand to cradle your face, his thumb stroking your cheekbone, “what was it you were running from in your head? Who?” 
“No one,” you lie. “Just a memory.” 
“Memories are not just that,” he insists, “but I understand how they can hurt. Forgive me, treasure, I wasn’t--” 
“Your highness,” the sullen voice has the king recoiling. He quickly plants his foot and stands. You rise as well, toying with that word he called you. Treasure. “The queen sends for you.” 
Bryce steps out into the moonlight. You look at him then the ground. How long had he been there? How much had he heard? 
“The queen,” King Geralt grumbles, “what is it she wants? It is late--” 
“She would not say and I would not guess,” Bryce says, “but she screams for it. Like a yowling cat.” 
The king sighs and lowers his head. He squares his shoulders and resets his posture. He steps away from you and gestures to his soldier. The king twists around and marches away. Bryce falls into pace with you as you follow. He is silent, you all are. 
You approach the castle, guards lurking in the shadows, and are let past the front doors by a sombre pair. Inside, you follow the king through the great hall and up the stairs. You peek over at Bryce as you proceed down the corridor. He gently squeezes your wrist, just briefly, and carries on. 
“Your highness,” Bryce speaks as you hear a racket ahead of you; screeching and crashing. “Should I escort the maid back to her chambers?” 
“Cursed woman,” King Geralt mutters as he slows, Queen Jazlene’s door just ahead. He pauses and looks over his shoulder, “the cost of a kingdom...” 
“Your highness?” Bryce prompts once again. 
You echo him and step forward, “I could calm her. Bring some wine--” 
“No, she will have no more of that,” the king declares sharply. “I wed her, I put my name next to hers, so it is I shall attend to her. Sir,” he looks at Bryce, “do as you suggest, put the maid in her chambers and I will put the queen in her place.” 
“Aye, your highness,” Bryce bows his head and points you back, “come, maid, the night wears on.” 
You glance up at the king. His golden eyes are wrought as his gaze holds yours for only an instant. You see the hesitation bob in his throat before he turns away. You mirror him and follow Bryce back along the corridor. 
As you climb to the next floor and continue down another corridor, Bryce slows. He stops as he gets to the door and faces you. He takes a breath as he looks you up and down. 
“It’s treacherous here in the summer kingdom,” he says, “but that will not change on the road. Mouse, you keep yourself well.” 
“Thank you, sir, I am fine.” 
“Aye, you do not take my meaning but you do not take the king’s either,” he puts his hand on his belt, “his favour might do you fine in this moment, but it is dangerous. Let not others notice so they may not envy it.” 
You grimace and shake your head, “what do you mean?” 
“Your little games do not need an audience. It is no tournament.” 
Your chest sinks and your skin speckles. Is he accusing you of something? 
“I... I haven’t done anything untoward. I would not, sir--” 
“You may not,” he intones, “but we are all ruled by the will of the king.” 
“Sir, the king is married to Lady Jazlene--” 
“And we both see how they fare,” he states bluntly. “Carry my words with you, do with them as you may, but I could not leave them unsaid.” 
Your eyes gloss and your nose tingles once more. He’s mad. Truly, he can’t think you and King Geralt. A maid and her master. 
“I would not,” you repeat. 
He huffs and nods curtly. He turns to the door and unlatches it, “go, rest your head while you can.” 
“Sir Bryce--” 
“I am bid protect you by the king,” he pushes the door inward and rests his hand on the frame, “not from him.” He looks past you, as if through, “little mouse, I do hope I am wrong as well but I know better than to depend on that.” 
You shudder and tug at the end of your sleeve. You slump and drag your feet through the doorway. You stop, just inside, “good night, sir.” 
He grunts and pulls the door shut. Your lip trembles as your heart races, just as it did in the garden. He is wrong. He must be. You saw yourself how the king is trying, he even said it was the queen he meant to game with earlier. It was only that she was too unwell. He said it! 
And he goes to the queen’s chamber that night. He is not there. He has not been disloyal. The matter is not your concern. You serve wine, you lace gowns, you braid hair. You are only the maid. 
⚔️
You return to the queen’s service the next morning. The world is a bit more familiar as you help her into her gown and twine her hair into an elaborate coif. Servants pass in and out of her chambers as they prepare for the royal party’s imminent departure. 
“Why can we not keep this capital?” Queen Jazlene whines, “but my husband does insist on return to his frigid homelands.” 
You say nothing as you sift through the old monarch’s jewelry chest. You present to her successor each gem, brooch, and chain. She has yet to turn any away though you wonder if there would be room in her already bustling luggage. Perhaps the cart will be a touch more crowded on your ride north. 
“And yet my husband did come to me,” she boasts, “I think... hmm, well, perhaps this marriage won’t be so turbulent.” 
You show her a cuff and she snatches it. She puts it on her wrist, turning her arm this way and that, as she oohs and aahs. She wiggles excitedly. 
“I recall this piece. One year, when I came with father to court, the queen wore this cuff. You see the emeralds. I remember she was so proud of it even though all the court knew it was only gifted to her by her husband to distract from his mistress,” she trills, “oh, how foolish. But the old queen was so boring. It is a wonder the king didn’t dispose of her, who can blame him for taking an amour?” 
She sighs and looks at the mirror, “and she wasn’t half so pretty as me.” 
You remain silent, continuing to sort with her endless approval. You don’t think there is a single trinket she could ever turn away. You don’t see the need for so many of the same thing. Some stones are brighter than others but why not keep the brightest and do away with the rest. 
“As I was saying,” she goes on, “last night when the king came to me, he was... almost meek. That man. Can you imagine? I admit I was distraught after the day I suffered but he listened and we spoke.” She strokes her fingers as she admires her oval nails. “There are some southern lords who will come north as well, some northern to stay behind. He says it will help us acquaint the two kingdoms into one.” 
She drops her hands and pushes her shoulders straight, “he is wise. I suppose I should heed him if I am to be a good queen.” 
You are want to agree but to do so aloud may be taken as insult. She might have done it sooner and saved herself some trouble. Yet it isn’t your place and you haven’t the wisdom of a queen. You’re merely a servant. 
“Once I give him an heir, he will have to listen to me too. Yes, I will do what mother could never. Give my husband a son,” she drags her hand to her midsection, “I think last night...” she flutters her lashes dreamily. Her suggestion makes you squirm. Her and the king’s relations are hardly your concern. “It was better,” her voice is brittle, “even if...” she peers around and clamps her lips. She narrows her dark eyes, “close the door.” 
You obey. You come back to her and return to your previous task. She reaches in to pluck out a string of pearls. 
“He puts me on my stomach,” she whispers, almost as if she thinks you won’t hear, but she is speaking to you. There is no one else in the room. Perhaps she is only embarrassed that she has only to the courage to tell a maid. “And he behind me so I can’t see him and... he can’t see me but... but if he could...” she toys with the pearls, “if he’d just look at me, he might like it better.” 
You lift a pair of medallions earrings and she ignores them. She tosses the pearls back in the chest and stands. You back away. 
“He won’t let me touch him otherwise,” she mulls as she paces. “But he is warming. It is early, isn’t it? And compared to the first night... I don’t know. It will get better. It must.” 
She quiets and stands by the window. Her anxiety is palpable. It’s uncharacteristic. You’ve never seen her uncertain of anything yet you can understand it. She is soon to set off to a new life and to brave a long road. When she reaches her destination, she will be a true queen. When you get there, you’ll still be a maid. 
“I’ll go to him tonight,” she says and raises her head, “yes, yes, I will go to him and try again.” She spins and smirks at her grand idea, “maid, I must find something to wear for him. Well, nothing very much,” she remarks coyly, “but I will need a robe. Yes, I saw a satin one in the queen’s closet.” She swallows and stands as straight as she can, “my closet.” 
You diligently cross the chamber and search the wardrobe. You find a white satin robe stitched with gold and silver. You turn to show the queen. She giggles and claps her hands. 
“Wine,” she says, “I must find some courage too.” 
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hrts4scarr · 2 days
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ᯓ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ⑅ walk him like a dog 2 ✯ jb22 .ᐟ.ᐟ
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★ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃﹕﹙ yes/no ﹚ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘﹕﹙in which sebastian vettels sister gets her dream job to work along with him, but stumbles across an infamous playboy﹚ — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒﹕﹙purpose use of lowercase letters only, not sure if there's gonna be another part, use of y/n, black-cat!reader, golden-retriever-ish!jenson, past-playboy!jenson, lowkey-past-toxic!jenson, VERYY light angst [i think], probably not well proofread, lmk if there's anything i missed!!﹚ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆﹕﹙jenson button 22 x f!vettel!reader﹚ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓﹕﹙icba checking but it's not much at all imooo fjdkjfdsjfkla﹚ ★ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎﹕﹙part two who cheered !?﹚
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˚ ₊ · ͟͟͞͞➳ — ꒰previous // last work // pinned post // masterlist // taglist // rules // next ꒱
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JENSON COULDN'T HELP BUT look at the red bull racer's sister eating her lunch with some of her co-workers. she fit right in and right away, even only after a week. she was smiling. oh, her smile. it was different than how she smiled with her brother. how jenson would do anything to make her smile that genuine smile she had with her brother.
"staring at my sister, huh?"
jenson whipped his head around to see sebastian vettel. he opens his mouth then closes it as he sees the fellow driver's raised eyebrows.
sebastian's cold face cracks into a grin. he throws his head back and laughs. "you should have seen the look on your face!"
jenson grumbles under his breath.
"alright, all jokes aside, please don't play with my sisters heart." sebastian puts a hand on jenson's shoulder.
"why would i ever-" jenson starts as he looks at him, but seb raises his eyebrows.
jenson purses his lips. "i.. alright, maybe you're right and i'm sorry."
seb sighs softly. "i'm just looking out for my sister, alright? i love her very much, with all my heart. i don't want to see it broken. i don't want to see *her* broken. just please, promise me."
"i promise." jenson nods sternly.
days after days, you and jenson had formed a friendly and healthy relationship, in which you both hoped would never be ruined. every time you laughed or smiled, you didn't know the thoughts lingering behind the eyes that shined when you did so. you've opened up more and more, finally showing the fun side of you.
jenson hoped to keep it that way. he hoped that your friendship would never be ruined. he'd never felt this way before, and he didn't know whether you felt the same way or not. being the infamous playboy he was, of course he didn't want to break your heart like he did to the other girls. he made a promise to your brother, a promise he could and would never break. you were too dear to him, too precious. he didn't want to break you. he vowed to, with all his life and heart, and he would never admit that to anyone or to himself.
so from then on, he kept it a secret. a secret he couldn't bear. and little did he know, that you on the other hand, was starting to catch feelings too. and you would never admit that to yourself either.
you both had fallen too hard to ever want to break your relationship. your personalities might be polar opposites, but the way you both want to keep your loved ones close and protected was a trait you shared.
jenson, the infamous playboy he was known as, obviously had toyed with a 'few' girls hearts. he's not one to think before he acts. he's the outgoing, social golden retriever.
you were oftenly known is the black cat, and the studiouss quiet kid. you were known by everyone, but not exactly popular. you plan out your movements carefully, always one step ahead. perfect match, honestly.
but further more, jenson made you feel special. you wanted to deny that feeling that made you think, 'he probably gives this treatment to every girl.' but oh, how you were wrong.
he would never offer to carry an item that weighed less than a pound for the 'other' girls. ("here, let me help you with that." "jenson, i can carry it, it's fine!! it's literally just a-" "no, please just let me help." and of course you had to give in to those helpless eyes. that effect he had on you made you weak in the knees.) he would never buy the 'other' girls special and thoughtful gifts. ("please, darling, this is my treat." "but jens-" "i said it once and ill say it again. my. treat.") he would never follow those 'other' girls around like he did to you, like a dog on a leash. ("walk him like a dog." seb snorted. "shut up!!" you muttered, feeling your cheeks get slightly red. jenson rolled his eyes, continuing to follow you neverless.)
it was never those 'other' girls, who he never even talked to anymore ever since he had met you. it's always been you. and from then, it would never change.
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★ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎﹕﹙i MIGHTTT take some blurb and part requests for this series, so ill lyk if i do!!﹚ ౨ৎ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓﹕﹙@gray4youuu @c-losur3 @ujws5 @namgification @faithshouseofchaos @isurvived3-11andimproud @somebodyonce-toldme @44lewico﹚
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˚ ₊ · ͟͟͞͞➳ — ꒰previous // last work // pinned post // masterlist // taglist // rules // next ꒱
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notes, comments, reblogs, feedback and follows are greatly appriciated!
!! PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ON OTHER WEBISTES/APPS OR COPY MY ORIGINAL WORK !!
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bookyeom · 1 day
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campfire - bsk
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pairing: seungkwan x reader word count: 1.7k warnings: the tiniest mention of blood at the beginning request prompt: "What are we to each other?"
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A/N: Thanks so much for all the support for my 700 follower celebration. You guys rock! I'm doing my best to get through the requests, but there were way more than I anticipated so bear with me!
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"I’m bleeding," you wince. You sit down on one of the rocks, turning your foot to assess the damage. A small trail of blood leads from your ankle to your pinky toe, and you let out a little whine. "Gross."
Who’s idea was it to go on a hike at 5:30am, anyway? 
Yours. Right. It was your idea. 
You’d thought some of your friends would join you – you’re on a week-long cottage vacation. Why would you not immerse yourself in the nature all around you? But only one person had signed up to tag along – the one you thought liked you the least. You don’t even know if you would consider him a friend.
The hike had been mostly silent, awkward even – and then, like an idiot, you’d gone and tripped. 
Seungkwan wastes no time, immediately crouching down on the ground in front of you. He motions for you to put your foot up on his knee and you oblige, wincing again as you move. You can’t help but watch his face as he assesses the injury. His hair is messy from the wind, and parts of it are falling across his forehead as he leans forward. He looks kind of beautiful in this element, you have to admit. All sweaty and flushed from the exertion. You try and fail to suppress a shiver as his fingers run across your skin, and his eyes meet yours in concern. 
"Did that hurt?" 
You feel your cheeks heat up as you shake your head no, before breaking his gaze and looking back down at your foot. You watch as he pulls off his backpack, resisting the urge to comment on the fact that he has a first-aid kit in there (because of course he does), even though that’s what you do. You and Seungkwan are just that – two people who happen to have the same friends, and bicker over the dumbest shit. But right now, with the way he looks so soft and concerned, his lower lip between his teeth in concentration, you can’t find it in you to make a snarky comment. 
You’ve been finding it harder and harder to do that lately, if you’re being honest with yourself. You don’t know when it started to happen, but the teasing between the two of you just makes you feel warm all over now, instead of irritated like it used to. You’re starting to resent the way he makes you smile.
“This will hurt.” Seungkwan’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you nod, unable to find your voice as he presses a piece of peroxide-soaked cotton onto the affected area. You hiss at the pain, and his free hand gives your calf a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “It’s not sprained,” he tells you, “but it’s going to hurt like a bitch. You should be okay to walk on it, but we should definitely head back.”
He starts packing up his bag again, and you wish that you could find something, anything to say. You know a thank you is in order, but all you can manage is, “Since when did you become an expert in sprained ankles?”
Seungkwan snorts, but he doesn’t so much as flinch while he continues to put his things back in his bag. “Being the captain of the volleyball team has its perks, I guess.”
“And co-captain of the badminton and table tennis teams.”
That makes him look up. His eyes are wide in surprise, and you try to ignore how flushed you’ve suddenly become under his gaze. “Yeah,” he says slowly, “I didn’t know you even knew that about me.”
You can’t help the defense that shoots back up as you retort, “What do you mean? It’s all you talk about. We get it, you’re sporty.”
“Right.” His lack of response to your quip has you flustered. He simply hums, stands up and slings his backpack over his shoulders. “Can you walk on your own?”
You feel stupid all of a sudden. “I think so,” you respond, dejected by the weird energy between the two of you, and you can feel Seungkwan’s eyes on you as you stand, testing the weight on your foot. “I’m good, just go slow.”
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You don’t talk to Seungkwan for the rest of the afternoon. He disappears when you make it back to the house, and all you get from him over lunch are some smiles and a giggle when you guffaw at Mingyu tripping on his own shoes. You spend the afternoon hanging out with Vernon and Seungcheol in the library, ankle propped up as you read in silence. 
A campfire is on the agenda for dinner, and you're told to sit back and relax as things are brought out from the cottage. You’re entertained from your seat by Seokmin and Mingyu as they begin cooking, and the rest of your group comes out one by one. The sun is beginning to set, and the sky is a beautiful array of blues, pinks and purples when Seungkwan sits in the chair next to you.
“How’s the ankle?”
“It’s fine,” you manage, and he nods. He settles in, eyes on the fire, and you can’t help but gawk at him. He chose to sit next to you?
The evening passes without much more chatter between the two of you. Your other friends are entertaining as always, and the time slips away peacefully until Jeonghan announces his early retirement, and others begin to follow suit. The fire is dwindling when Chan, Soonyoung and Seokmin announce that they’re headed in, leaving just you and Seungkwan, and you’re about to ask Seokmin to help you back to the house when Seungkwan interjects.
“I’ll help them.”
You flush at the chorus of oohs and ahhs that echo through the remaining group, but Seungkwan doesn’t even flinch, already maneuvering his chair in front of yours. 
“Come on,” he pats his thigh, “let me see.”
“Seungkwan…” 
He hums, focused on the task at hand. It’s quiet now as he stops fidgeting with the bandage, moving instead to gently massage the sore area around the wound. His touch is gentle but firm, and you feel electricity shoot through you. You’re holding your breath, and you feel a little dizzy; there are goosebumps on your leg from where he’s touching you. It’s not cold out, so you know you can’t blame it on that. It’s quiet, and all you can hear are the murmurs and occasional laughter of your friends in the distance, and the dying fire. 
“Why are you doing this?” Your question comes out harsher than you mean for it to, and you wince.
Seungkwan looks up at that, his fingers stilling on your skin. He’s silent for a moment, processing. “What, helping you?” He sounds incredulous, and you shrink a little bit back into yourself. He begins to gently press his fingers into the muscle of your ankle again, his eyes falling back to his work as he adds, “Didn't know you thought so lowly of me.” 
“It’s not as if you like me either, Seungkwan.” You wish you could pull your ankle away from him without it hurting, wish you could find a way to hide from whatever this conversation is about to be — but you can’t. 
Seungkwan shakes his head, the disbelieving huff of a laugh escaping his lips as he does. “Unbelievable.”
You cross your arms, defensive. “What?”
Despite being obviously annoyed, Seungkwan is gentle as he sets your foot back on the ground. “Nothing. Just let me help you back to the house, alright?”
You stare at him in disbelief as he stands, moving his chair back to its place before he holds out an arm to you. “No. What? You’ve got to be kidding me, Seungkwan.”
He runs a hand through his hair, jaw tight as looks away from you and mutters, “Fine. Get back to the house on your own.”
“That’s not…” You fight back the sudden urge to cry, blinking rapidly. “Seungkwan.”
Something in your voice makes him turn back to you, and now his own arms are crossed in defense. “What, Y/N?”
“I…” You don’t even know what you mean to say, really, and it takes a moment before you whisper softly, “What are we to each other?” 
You can tell he’s surprised by your question. His eyes widen as he straightens. “I… I don’t know,” he admits honestly. “But I can’t figure out why you don’t like me.”
His admittance lingers in the air around you, and your mouth falls open as you process. “Do you like me?” 
Seungkwan’s hand lifts to run over his face as he sits back in his chair. He’s embarrassed, you realize, and your heart stutters over itself in your chest. “I mean, yeah, but I just meant — you think that I hate you or something, but I don’t, even though you don’t like me —“
“I like you,” you blurt out, cutting him off before he can ramble any further. “I thought that you didn’t like me because you’re always so competitive and want to beat me at everything, and you never seem excited to see me or try to talk to me at parties, so I just… gave up on trying to make you like me.” 
Seungkwan lets out a whine. “You intimidate me! You’re good at everything and yes, I’m competitive, but you’re an equal match and that’s so hot. But I thought you didn’t like me, so I didn’t try, either.”
“Oh my god,” you say after a moment. 
You stare at one another in the dim firelight for a moment. And then you both begin to giggle.
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“Are we going to ignore that you called me hot?”
Seungkwan stumbles a bit, the arm he has slung around your shoulders tripping you up a little bit too, but he quickly catches himself. You bite back a smile. “Yes. Yes we are.”
“Why? I think you’re hot, too.”
Seungkwan fully stops the two of you now, turning to you with an exaggerated pout. You can just make out his features in the light from the cabin up ahead, and he looks so cute you could cry. “Don’t tease me,” he whines.
“I’m serious,” you tell him honestly. He looks away, but you can see the shy smile that’s formed on his face. 
“Fine,” he says as he begins to walk again. “We can talk more about that inside.”
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@wheeboo @tae-bebe @waldau @eoieopda @gyuminusone @minisugakoobies @lvlystars @seohomrwolf @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @christinewithluv @wqnwoos @iluvseokmin @darkypooo
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asarajaa · 2 days
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hi sarah 🥰
it’s so hard to find regular blue lock writers omg
can i make a request? it’s alright if you can’t tho
can i request the reader meeting chigiri’s mother and sister after the u20 match? i feel like it’d be so funny bc they kinda embarrassed him during the match by calling out to him lmao 😭
imagine him getting embarrassed by them in front of his gf (who they didn’t know about until they saw her at the u20 match, she’s like the manager of bllk) and he tries to drag her away but ends up getting teased by his sister 🥰
Hii, ikr? I'm dying to find a good bllk ffc author 😩
Just woke up, had breakfast and went straight on it 🫡
Hope you like it!
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Warnings: Implied fem!reader Words: 627
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The stadium buzzed with excitement as the U-20 match between Blue Lock and their rivals reached its climax. Chigiri's performance on the field was incredible, his skill and determination evident with every move. Meanwhile, in the stands, you watched intently, the official manager of Blue Lock, cheering on the team you had grown so close to.
As the match concluded with Blue Lock's victory, the players celebrating in the field with the enthusiastic cheers of the crowd as background. You couldn't be more proud of them, a bunch of teenager boys- your teenager boys- just win against profesional team. Chigiri, in the middle of celebreting his win with his teamates, locked eyes with you.
You smiled brightly, so brightly that your watery eyes were half-closed by your big smile. Chigiri start running at your spot in the stands, ready to start a conversation with you.
"Hey, we win" he said breathlessly, a broad smile on his face as he reached you.
"I know, baby! You did it so well I'm so proud of you!" you replied with enthusiasm, jumping to give him a big bear hug. "You guys did it! You guys won- and you're my guys! My boyfriend just won against Japans u-20!
Chigiri just laughed as he lifted you off the ground and spun you around.
Before your conversation could continue, a voice interrupted from behind. "Chigiri!"
Letting you down, you turned around and you saw a woman approaching, her features mirroring Chigiri's in a softer, maternal way. Beside her was a younger girl, who bore a striking resemblance to Chigiri.
"Mom, Sis," Chigiri exclaimed, a mix of delight and apprehension in his voice.
His mother's eyes twinkled with pride. "You were amazing out there, sweetie! We're so proud of you."
Chigiri's sister nodded in agreement, but whe her gaze shifted to you she grinned mischievously. "And who's this? You're not gonna introduce her to us?" she asked, her tone playful.
Chigiri's cheeks reddened slightly. "Uh, this is y/n," he introduced, glancing at you nervous but happily. "She's the team manager... and my girlfriend." He ended up with a big soft smile
Both his mother and sister looked pleasantly surprised. "Oh, we didn't know you had a girlfriend!" his mother exclaimed, her smile widening.
"And a beautiful one!" his sister continued while she gave you a smile. "Damn, Chigiri," she teased, her eyes dancing with amusement. "You never told us you had such good taste in girlfriends."
Chigiri's embarrassment finally showed, and he tried to subtly nudge you away. "Mom, Sis-please." he muttered.
Chigiri's face turned an even brighter shade of red, much to the amusement of his family. You couldn't help but chuckle at the scene unfolding before you.
"It's a pleasure finally meeting you, Chigiri has told me a lot of things about you." You decided to step in, giving them a little but a respectful bow.
His mother beamed. "Well, it's lovely to finally meet you too. You must come over for dinner sometime."
"Who knew that the boy who used to make dance shows for his family would get a girlfriend? Where did our little singer, dancer and hairdresser go huh?" His sister said teasing.
Chigiri shot you an imploring look, silently begging for some form of rescue. But his sister only grinned wider, clearly enjoying her older brother's predicament.
As you exchanged pleasantries with Chigiri's family, you couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for this young man who had captured your heart. Despite his embarrassment, seeing him interact with his loved ones-and knowing you're one of them made your heart skipped a beat- filled you with warmth. Maybe, just maybe, these unexpected family encounters would be a new chapter in your relationship with Chigiri—a chapter that both of you will be expecting with enthusiasm.
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Idk what I just write, I did my best so here you go :)
Please, feel free so send more request! I have a whole month free 'cause I'm getting recovered from a surgery so I have a lot of time.
26/04/24
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© asarajaa — Please, do not copy, translate or reuse my work without my permission.
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sashiavi · 3 days
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Bear Shane insisting on cuddle time every day... He doesn't appreciate someone interrupting his time with you, this old man needs his naps
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BearHybrid!Shane has my heart ♡
This might have gotten out of hand- this man consumes my brain and I went o f f on a tangent - hopefully it's legible :')
Warnings : Pure Fluff | smut writer attempts fluff | BearHybrid!Shane | this could be bad- | cuddling | alludes to sex occurring - aftercare |
additional message : 18+ minors please do not follow - my blog is not a safe space for minors - thank you ♡
•··········🍑···········• ֪٘ ︶ ͝ ٘⏝𖹭⏝ ͝ ٘︶٘ ֪•···········🍑··········•
Bear Shane is so soft - Literally - His body just made for big, warm, squeezing hugs. Bear Shane has filled out a little with age - and with other habits he'd cut out - Body still strong enough to lift haybales and chop hefty chunks of firewood, tough muscle hidden behind a man who eats and treats himself well.
Cuddling with him is always a treat, sweeter than molasses - and he can't keep himself off of you - You wonder if your heart beats so hard and fast from love- or if you're having a sugar rush from the deep syrupy way he whispers confessions into your ear.
"Lovin' you so much, Doll.." His voice is low, grumbling, tinged in a soft drawl unique to The Valley. Bear Shane paws over your skin in rhythmic caresses, a little clumsy with a heavy hand, and yet still sending soft shivers down your spine and to your toes never the less.
One way or another, you're always in Bear Shane's arms, in his lap, laying on his chest, always touching him in some form.
Bear Shane nestles you in his lap, reclined and relaxed in an arm chair, hand feeding you snacks you prepared together earlier while the Gridball game drones on the television. He mocks an aeroplane with a pepper popper, playfully popping it in your mouth. His thumb comes up to wipe a stray stain off sauce off of the corner of your mouth - and he licks it up with a smack of his lips. He can't help but chuckle at the face you give him, all too cute and scrunched up with faux disgust. His smile is goofy, nose nuzzling against your own, foreheads pressed together for just a moment, a sloppy wet kiss pressed to your cheek just to get another silly reaction out of you. His bear ears twitch and wiggle, following the teasing and goofy smile plastered on his face.
The hours after Bear Shane sends you into pure syrup sweet bliss in the bedroom are always the softest. After a wash and dry of your bodies, feeling soft and clean, back bundled up under the cool sheets of your bed. Bear Shane beckons you to him, big arms outstretched for you to fall into. He lays on his back, holding you to his body, watching your head rise and fall with his breathing. You can't help it- laying on his chest. Swollen pecs built from muscle and fat, skin warm, decorated in a decent sheen of dark hair- and his heart, pumping behind his ribcage, thumbing in your ear as you nuzzle and kiss him.
Yoba, the twinkle in your eye makes the moment all the more golden- glazed and sleepy dazzled in the soft lamp light, carefully brightening the room from the bedside table. You were warm, so warm on his skin, eyes warm for him, bathed in a room of warm golden light, kissed sweet in a honey glaze.
"Yer' my Sunshine," His voice is low, rasped with exhaustion and a huff of amusement, purposely saying such corny things to make your nose wrinkle for him to kiss.
Bear Shane is big on his afternoon naps. The man was tired from doing his duty on the farm; Tending to the chickens, tidying their coop with utmost care. Harvesting the tree tappers for maple syrup, trying is very best to resist just a little teeny taste of the forbidden nectre - lest you scold him for it. Last time he looked like a kicked baby cub, ears droopy, lips pouted, his teddy bear eyes eventually got him out of it. Poor Bear Shane dregs himself inside, gobbling up his afternoon lunch with you, wiping off a stray stain of muck and soot off of your cheek with a wet cloth while you wash up the dishes.
Exhaustion lays thick in his bones, he practically has to man-handle you from running out the door, coddling you up in a big bear hug. It's all giggles and smooches though, as he drags the both of you to the lounge or the bed, wrapping his thick arms around your torso and stuffing his face in the back of your neck. He can't help but place a big, wet kiss on your skin, his prickly stubble scrapping gently over the spot. His laugh is goofy, arms squeezing you tight for just a moment when you whine and visibly shiver at the sensitive tickling.
His bear ear flicks when the sound of the farm house door rasps with a knock. His thick brows furrow, lips coming to a town turned frown, exasperated when you shift to leave. He cooes a dramatic 'noooo', arms caging you in comically, rolling over, dragging you with him while you giggle and fein protest.
When you finally answer the door, the poor visitor jumps in surprise when they find a sleepy Bear Shane hanging over your shoulder, chin tucked against your neck, honey brown eyes glaring up at the intruder.
"Whadaya' want.." He grumbles, earning a soft smack on his hip. When the visitor states their business Bear Shane blissfully ignores them, using their boring droning voice to slowly doze back into your neck. He breathes in deep, savouring the subtle twinge of sweetness coming off of your skin- maybe your honey milk soap, or the pretty vanilla perfume you put on thay day- whatever it was it was golden behind his eyes, melting his heart down into syrup- strong enough to flavour anything in your life with his love.
•· ֪٘ ︶ ͝ ٘⏝𖹭⏝ ͝ ٘︶٘ ֪·····.•🍑•.····· ֪٘ ︶ ͝ ٘⏝𖹭⏝ ͝ ٘︶٘ ֪·•
Was this corny? It feels corny- confession: it's been probably 8 years since I have written just fluff- go easy on me ♡ and pls lmk how I could improve if I can!
shane my love, my mess, my chunkins- my heart blooms for him~
My inbox is very very full right now- thank you for all the wonderful ideas :)) I will do my best to catch up on them ♡
Bear Shane is May-pal serrup coded
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2d-reality · 1 day
Text
Little Things (The Prince of Demons)
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characters: Diavolo, GN!MC navigation: Diavolo | Barbatos | Simeon | Solomon | Luke | Thirteen content/warnings: little things you do, out of love. dateables edition! fluff. could be read as platonic but why would u word count: 862 notes: Alas, Dia is the only one I have finished as of now on account of how my work/life balance has been absolutely wacked recently. I'll get around to the rest eventually, I promise! I have bits and pieces here and there but the dateables don't flow as easy as the boys. Mephis will likely not be included bc I'm not even vaguely familiar with his character, and because we are both horse girls and he is my bitter rival on principle. I stared at this piece a lot but did I edit it? no
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Diavolo was a lonely man. He knew a lonely childhood, tucked away in the Demon King’s palace with only the grounds staff as company. He attended lessons alone as he grew up learning what it would take to shoulder his father’s throne once he came of age. When the reigning monarch fell into his dreamless slumber, Diavolo had effectively lost yet another lifeline to anything resembling a normal existence-- a parent. As a young man (or, rather, the demon equivalent of a young man), surrounded by nobility of all kinds vying for his attention, he knew they only saw Diavolo, the Crown Prince. Even the brothers, who were the closest to being considered his friends, played along with his antics out of duty. No doubt Lucifer drilled it into them to be accommodating. 
Sometimes he felt as though he was cursed-- paying for his original sin by bearing his existence, at the end of the day, alone. 
That was, at least, until you came along. You, so small and fierce and human. You, who upon meeting him at the beginning of your tenure as an exchange student, held his gaze squarely and didn’t back down, even when he could practically smell your fear.
You, who for whatever reason, be it ignorance or sheer, unmitigated gall or something else entirely, didn’t for a moment treat him any differently than any other demon you met. Once you were comfortable living among magical beings, it was as if the floodgates opened. Despite horrified reactions from Lucifer and gentle chiding from Barbatos, you told him when his jokes were stupid (even if you still laughed), slapped his arm companionably when greeting him, and called him by a myriad of silly nicknames. 
Your friendship is the most precious thing Diavolo has ever received in his long life. You aren’t one of his subjects, born to defer to him whether you wanted to or not. You aren’t an angel, who gave him a cautious respect for the good of your realms’ relations. You didn’t even know he existed before you came to the Devildom. You chose not to see the heir to the throne, and instead saw Diavolo-- a gentle giant with more love in his heart than he was born to carry. Diavolo, who would go to the ends of all three realms for those he cared for. Diavolo, who was loud and boisterous and always wanted to be involved. Diavolo, who liked cigar cookies and video games and could be a bit of a goofball. 
He cherishes every aspect of your relationship. He loves when you send him blurry photos of various pairs of objects or animals you see when out and about, with the caption "us fr <3”. He loves getting links to dumb memes in the middle of the night, followed by laughing emojis or “this u??” You poke fun at him, bite back with quips when he makes jokes at your expense, and play silly little pranks on him. His favorite is when you gesture to something on his coat, only to flick the tip of his nose when he looks down to investigate. He’d long since caught on to that ruse, among others, but your bright smile and chirping laughter when you teased him for falling for it yet again are too precious to him to not play along.
He even appreciates the times that you turn down his invitations to spend the weekend at the palace with him, citing exhaustion from the brothers’ antics or pressing schoolwork from RAD. You’re not automatically agreeing simply because you have no choice-- you spend your limited, precious time on him because you want to. More often than not you made up for declining by showing up entirely unannounced some time later, cloaked beneath a spell to shield you from Barbatos’ sixth sense for his Lord getting up to shenanigans, beckoning him to sneak out with you to suck on thick milkshakes in some cramped corner booth and giggle conspiratorially like a couple of misbehaving teenagers. 
When he’s around you, Diavolo feels like he can breathe. He doesn’t have to worry about keeping up appearances. You aren’t looking for political sway, or funding, or an elevated social status. For the first time in his life, he can set aside his heavy burden and feel... normal. He can ruffle your hair, and only half-heartedly hold you back from practically climbing him to dig your knuckles into his scalp and return the favor. He can laugh when you swat at his hand as he reaches across your plate to steal a few of your fries. He wears the friendship bracelet you braided for him at all times. He considered charming it to never fade or fray, but when it finally falls apart from wear, your mock exasperation when you tell him you’ll make him another makes him feel so real. 
Diavolo was a lonely man. But now, he has a friend. A genuine, honest-to-goodness friend. You have matching contact photos, and inside jokes. You don’t call him my lord when he comes up in conversation; it’s always my friend. Now, thanks to you, he isn’t lonely anymore.
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loveemagicpeace · 17 hours
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🏹Astrology Notes 🛼
People with many aspects of Neptune, especially Neptune Square North Node, can get into bad paths (alcohol, drugs...) many times they look for a solution by running away from problems. In life, they struggle with many difficult, incomprehensible, strange things. They may come across many people who deceive them.
Pluto opp chiron - can illustrate that you never really get over your traumas that were inflicted on you when you were little. Many times you can carry a swordsman's side inside you and never really let it go.
Mercury opp chiron- you have a hard time expressing or talking about your pain. It can often take a really long time to talk about what's bothering you.
Mercury conj Pluto- you can always be secretive about what you say. It could also be that a part of you is always hidden behind words.
The aspect of the moon and Saturn indicates the relationship the person has with his mother. People who have very strong aspects with the moon and saturn can be very attached to their mother and the mother has a great influence on them. It also shows that this person is not emotionally open and can always keep their feelings inside.
Dynamic aspects (opposition, square, inconjunction, semi-square) between Saturn and Jupiter indicate that a person can be full of hope at one moment and completely desperate at the next. These aspects are often associated with suicide. Because people can hardly bear such strong energy.
There are differences: Sagittarius is much more changeable than Jupiter, more freedom-loving and irresponsible. Sagittarius is less likely to symbolize the acquisition of material goods. Also, being a sign and therefore a less powerful symbol than a planet, it is less likely than Jupiter to operate at an excessive level. Sagittarius is less likely to signify waste, excess, or arrogance. Sagittarius gets along best with planets like Mars, Uranus, and the Sun, which are fast-moving, energetic, and not resistant to change.
Strongly emotional planets do not do well in Capricorn because the sign tends to repress emotion in favor of discipline. The Moon is particularly difficult here, because Capricorn will not allow the Moon to enjoy being dependent on others, a mode of relationship that is absolutely essential to the Moon’s functioning at some point in life. Venus is also not at its best, because its emotional criteria for choice are likely to be subordinated to practical criteria. Venus in Capricorn can also indicate an attraction to older persons who can serve as authority figures as well as lovers.
The Pisces symbol is two fishes swimming in opposite directions, and like Sagittarius and Gemini, Pisces is traditionally referred to as a dual sign. There are two types of Piscean: the advanced (Pisces as the last stage in the evolution of the archetypal ego or self) and the primitive (Pisces as the stage just prior to a new beginning in Aries).
Pluto in the 3rd house can represent a very strong bond with a sister. So separation with your sister can very difficult if you live far apart. You can create a beautiful and strong bond with your sister.
Mars in the 5th house indicates a difficult birth and problems with children. Children may be restless, aggressive or angry. It is important to look at aspects.
Jupiter in the 9th house often indicates good intuition and prophetic dreams. So it is important to remember your dreams.
Virgo rising people are so beautiful. I notice that women have beautiful faces and skin. Men, on the other hand, have well-developed eyes and bodies. I would say that virgins can have more beautiful beauty than technical ones in the subsign. Otherwise, it depends on where Mercury falls in the house, but still, their beauty is very naturally beautiful.
Moon in the third house indicates sensitive emotions and feelings. Moods change quickly.
The Moon in the fifth house indicates great success for children. Also a  person very dedicated to fun.
Moon in the sixth house can mean too much strain in terms of health. Lots of public contact. It can also mean insecurity and health problems in the first 7 years.
Mars in 7th house can mean that the individual is too open in relationships and dealings. It can also mean that he is jealous, intense and controlling.
Mars in the 11th house means you can be argumentative and want things your way. Many times the need for freedom is strong.
Mars in 12th house- the individual is interested in hidden things. You can join things that are secret. You like to work in the shadows. And you present your things when you are sure of them.
Uranus in the first house often shows that your personality is very unique and special. You have an energy that others find rare and interesting. You are a person who does not like drug treatment and prefers to find a different way (natural way of treatment). You want a job that is free and you don't like being controlled by others.
Uranus in the seventh house indicates premature engagement or marriage. It also means inharmonious relationships (if the aspects are not good). It also indicates a relationship in which one is ingenious and clever.
Uranus in ten house people are prone to emotional or physical loss through one parent. It is said that people with this position are also inclined to have two professions at the same time. It is important for women to check if her Uranus is in the 10th house of a man. Because this can indicate that the man is more focused on his career than her.
A person with mercury in the 9th house will always know at least 2 foreign languages, if not more. These people learn foreign languages very quickly and quickly understand others. They often prefer foreign languages.
Mars in Libra -A person can be quarrelsome and inharmonious. But it's not always like that. It depends on what aspects the person has. Person can be very passive aggressive and hides a lot of their energy. Many times they do something, but in reality they want something completely different. They can place the blame on others in many cases unless the person has Venus in good stabile sign.
Chart ruler of 8th house in 5th house -if it is  in bad aspects, it can indicate the possibility of miscarriage, loss of a child at birth or in youth.
Chart ruler  of 8th house in 8th house symbolizes benefit from the dead. Interest in immortality, spirituality. If the ruler is in an bad position then there can be problems with dying.
Chart ruler of the 9th house in 4th house travel is necessary for family matters. Property comes from relatives and partner.
Chart ruler of the 9th house in 6th house means handling due to travel. As well as good success abroad. If the aspects are in an unfavorable position, it can mean illness while traveling.
Chart ruler of the 9th house in 7th house means marriage in a foreign country or marriage with a foreigner. It often symbolizes a person living in another country. If it is in an unfavorable position, it may mean that relatives oppose the marriage.
The ruler of the 10th house in the 1st house- can mean a lot of ambition and talents. But it can mean loss due to father.
The ruler of the 10th house in the 6th house- symbolizes a humble position in society. Treatment can be an important part of an individual's life. If the aspects are bad, it can mean loss of career due to health.
Ruler of 10th house in 7th house- indicates benefit from public. Lawsuits are positive and marriage can bring fame.
Ruler of the 10th house in the 11th house - symbolizes the fulfillment of dreams. Strong and influential friends help the individual.
-Rebekah🧚🏻‍♀️🦋
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oneawkwardwriter · 17 hours
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So High School
pairing: James Potter x fem!reader warnings/tags: none except some teeth rotting fluff, possibly inaccurate Quidditch team (I didn't know everyone's positions), allusions to suggestive content?, no use of Y/n summary: just James being an absolutely amazing boyfriend totally not self-insert what- a/n: and thus begins the saga of me taking Taylor Swift songs and turning them into stories about fictional characters. Don't even act like you're surprised, you shouldn't be by now <3 Also, I've been wanting to write for James but couldn't get it right, so a little thank you to Miss Taylor for making this possible wc: 0.8k
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"And another goal made by Gryffindor chaser James Potter!" Remus shouts into the microphone while he reacts to the latest Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. "That is three in a row for Gryffindor. Sorry, Ravenclaw, it seems like you'll have no chance of winning today, better forfeit already-"
He is cut off by Professor McGonagall taking the mic out of his hands, "Don't get forget to stay objective, Mr. Lupin," She says, just loud enough for the microphone to pick it up, but the crowd is too busy cheering to hear it.
James does a victory lap on his broom, flying close to the crowd. When he comes close to your section, he sends a quick wink in your direction. You lightly chuckle and roll your eyes when a couple of first years nearly faint from being so close to their unrequited hallway crush.
Not that you can entirely blame them, seeing as you yourself still can't shake the giddy feeling of butterflies whenever James wraps his arms around you. Sure, you'd been dating for about half a year, but somehow he still managed to make your heart skip a beat.
Not long after, the match is over when Marlene manages to catch the Snitch. Louds cheers erupt once more from the spectators on the stands, and soon enough, they're running onto the field to greet the victors.
You're pulled along in the flood of people, practically carried towards the field until the crowd parts for the Gryffindor team. You smile as you lock eyes with James, who practically storms right at you before trapping you in a bear hug, slightly lifting you off the crowd.
"That was amazing!" You say as you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. "You did so great out there."
"Only because my lucky charm was in the stands," James replies, burying his face in your neck as he grins, "Couldn't have done it without you cheering me on." You chuckle, knowing arguing against him would be pointless even though you know he's a great player whether you're there or not.
The celebrations continued in the Gryffindor common room, the firewhiskey flowing while people cheered, laughed and talked to each other. Throughout the entire night, James held you practically glued to his hip: always an arm around your shoulders or waist, kissing the top of your head or your cheek.
"-And then Mary fired that Bludger at the Ravenclaw Seeker, and I ducked down for the Quaffle, and then-" James rants about the game, completely caught up in his story.
"Remember to breathe, James. We don't need you passing out," Remus says, making everyone laugh and James shake his head.
"Oh please, as if I could breathe when this one here takes my breath away the entire time," James quips, "Not that I mind, though. I'd gladly pass out if it meant you sitting next to me in the hospital wing."
"James!" You exclaim.
"What? It's true," He responds shamelessly as he shrugs, making the others shake their heads and chuckle.
As if you weren't already glued to his side, James pulls you even closer to him, making you laugh when his breath tickles the nape of your neck.
"Oh come on, can you two act even more like high school sweethearts? We're getting cavities from looking at you " Sirius groans, to which you only raise an eyebrow and reply with, "That's rich coming from the guy who had his tongue down his boyfriend's throat less than a minute ago."
"I don't see the relevance of you pointing that out, but alright," Sirius replies with mock-ignorance as he sits close to Remus, who nuzzles his face in Sirius's nape and softly smiles.
As the night progressed, the firewhiskey started to take over your systems, making you a bit more bold and unfiltered.
"You know, sometimes I still don't understand how we got together," You say, slightly slurring your words as you look at James.
"Oh god, here we go again," Sirius sighed, turning to Remus, "James is going to confess his undying love for her again."
"Hey, I can't help it that this perfect angel walked into my life, you have Remus to blame for that," James shrugged as he kisses your cheek for the millionth time that night.
You and Remus had been friends ever since first year, finding companionship in your shared love for literature and classic history. James swears he fell for you when you were rambling about the works of some ancient philosopher, claiming that you could light up an entire city with the energy you put into it.
"Well, I don't know about perfect angel, but thank you anyway," You say, resting your head on James's shoulder as you whisper in his ear. "I love you, James."
"I love you too, love."
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© This work belongs to @oneawkwardwriter, please do not copy this work to any other site or claim it as your own. Reblogs are allowed and appreciated!
Taglist: @unofficialxmarvelfreak
(to join the taglist, simply leave a comment or message me!)
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some headcanons about dating timeskip!Kenma please!!
thank you Anon, I would absolutely love to share some stuff about this beautiful boy~ As always, feel free to send any other requests you got, I’ll be more than happy to share my thoughts~
status: unedited
word count: 1.4k (damn that’s the most I’ve written in a hot minute)
warnings: cursing, pure fluff, mentions of weed, crackfick a little suggestive? Idk man I’m sleepy
wrote this instead of studying for my physics final exam😋
🩵Aged Up Kenma Headcannons🩵~
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Ok first off we gotta get the basic facts down. This boy may be sweet as sugar, but he’s also one lazy mother fucker. And For the most part, I’d say that he really doesn’t change much from when he was a kid. The most I can say about him, is he definitely is a lot more confident being in front of people, ( I mean that’s kinda his job now, but bear with me) and has become less awkward around people. Very different from when he first met Hinata, he can actually hold a good and relaxed conversation now. That’s not to say he isn’t introverted anymore, (he definitely still would rather be at home) but he is more confident in himself to be able to actually be able to engage with someone. Is he gonna go out of his way to talk to someone? Hell no, but he can at least handle being approached without overthinking and triggering his anxiety.
This definitely also translates to his relationship with you. You still will have be the one who makes the first move, or at least initiating conversations.
But one things for sure, once he likes you, he loves you. Like wanting to wife you up regardless of gender. And I feel like, (later on in the relationship ofc) if you ever had kids, he would be the best most present dad ever. Like he wouldn’t be a house husband, (his YouTube gig is completely paying for your mortgage) but because the majority of what he does has him, stream for like an hour, go on call for a few minutes, or just edit his videos for a bit, he would be able to make a lot of time for any and all children he has. But that’s way later on in the relationship.
Once he’s comfortable in the relationship with you, I can definitely see him involving you in his content. Not like a whole boyfriend and girlfriend couples channel, but like a once a year “reacting to fucked up shit with my girl” type beat.
And since we’re on the subject of content, <<<<<<<<
Like imagine having the most shitty day possible and you come home to your boyfriend streaming COD or some shit. You just face-plant into the bed next to him and he snaps his head towards you.
”shit baby you good?” he asks as he raises an eyebrow, looking at you concerned as you mumble angrily. He recognizes the nonverbal gestures and just pats his lap with a quick, “c’mere baby,” and hugs you, letting you muzzle your face into his neck away from the camera, and wrapping a fluffy blanket around you, before he kisses you head and say, “gimme ten more minutes to finish this and we’ll order some takeout k?”. He gives you the most sincere and adorable smile ever sending butterflies not only to you, but all his fans watching, as he smiles and goes back to playing like nothing happened, the chat going wilddddddd. (My gay ass heart go brrrrrr)
I know for a fact that somewhere out there in haikyuu internet, there is a corny ass edit of y’all doing that shit, trust. (I need to keep my slang outta here man 😭)
ok, getting off the sidetrack, kenma is still like rlly introverted. Like his ideal date is just sitting at home watching some cheesy studio ghibi movie (His favorite is the boy and the heron, fight me on that, it’s the hill I’m willing to die on.)
If not some cute Disney movie, I also feel like he’d be into like some mystery or like not quite horoscope stuff. Like I feel like he would really be into Wednesday. If he had to watch an actual horror movie, I feel like I’d be like some of the older ones like scream or Nightmare on elm street type shit.
Speaking of scream, I feel like at least once yall would have to do the ghostface couples costume thing. Like I feel like this would just suit him so well. Idk my brains just going feral on it right now. (This was supposed to have a link attached, but it kept fuckin up and I’m to lazy to deal with it so just look it up, the couples version, it’s hot af)
aside from the specific stuff that I know people hate reading, the next thing you gotta know about this version of kenma is he is a TEASE. Like not even like an NSFW type tease. Just like a “he’s an ass but I love him.” Like when he was younger I feel like he was too nervous and flustered to point that kinda stuff out. But now? Man is a menace and a half. The type of dude to be like, “I have no idea how your ass fits in those shorts. Oh no, you’re not taken them off now~” or like the most basic annoying shit like bro fuck off and let me cuddle you in peace without being annoying. Like, he’d be like, “ damn someone’s neady today~ you tryna fuck me in front of everyone?” Like bro stfu I’m just tryna cuddle. Either that or he’d call you clingy for returning the affection he initiated. Like bro, quit being a lil bitch and let me be happy you butt muffin.
Man is putting full pussy into annoying you. He’s the type of guy to call you the most vile, disgusting, cringe ass nicknames, specifically to piss you off. You need him to take out the trash? “Yes my Pookie Wookie McSmoo Moo bear~” *gags while writing this* You’re yelling at him for some stupid thing, “I sorry my sugar booger~.”
Yeah this part is real OOC, and I was gonna write more but I physically cannot bring myself to do it so anyway, his other 3 favorite things to annoy you by calling you is, Cutesie Poopsie, Shnookums, and side piece #2. (Bro I just gave myself the ick)
Beige flags aside, he does have some green ones . For example, he’s a fabulous listener. Like, you just wanna rant and yell about your day? C’mere babes, he already got fluffy blankets, stuffies, and fluffy socks at the ready. You just wanna cry in piece? Looks like his lap has a vacant spot, he can play games and scratch your head at the same time. #bbgtreatment (regardless of gender. If tumblr has taught me anything it’s that nobody is to thug to be bbg, can I get an amen?🙏 )
The more comfortable he is with you, the more he will make jokes, but in the most monotone voice ever. Like you could be ranting to your bestie on the phone like, “I forgot my umbrella at work… yeah I’m soaked,” and you just hear him from his corner calmly shouting “that’s what she said,” not even turning away from his game, as if it was natural to him. It’s always so easy to talk with him, unless it’s about his problems, but we ain’t gon talk about that rn, I’m feeling too fluffy.
There is one thing that I absolutely have to address for this man though. The average female height in my country is 5’4. And Kenma is only 5’6. Chances are, he’s not gonna be towering over you or nothing. Especially if you a tall specimen like me. (AFAB but gender is a construct yolo on those hoes). So chances are, this mf is for a fact, stealing your clothes. No article of clothing is safe. Hoodie? Sorry boo he got cold streaming. T-shirt? None of his were clean. Miniskirt? Onlyfans- He was pulling a Gojo sorry 😋
Tbh I don’t see him ever really having a wedding, or really ever getting married. Too much social interaction and attention on him. Gross. The most I can see him doing is, one night while y’all smoking pot or something, being like “yo wanna get married?” He wants to be with you forever without the government getting involved, but hey, times are tough, and marriage helps with tax returns. So y’all just kinda go to the courthouse, get it done, then fly off to some place to elope.
in all Kenma is just a great loyal guy, who is the biggest pain in your ass, but the biggest cutie patootie this side of the nuthouse.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ hope y’all enjoyed, this was so fun to write, if you liked this and want more content like this make sure to request and check out my other stuff. Love y’all bastards, Thots and Enby Hots🩵
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thecuriousquest · 1 day
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E2? Pervert Incel Yan!Megumi ?
FEMOID!
Pervert Incel Yan!Megumi Fushiguro x Fem!Reader
Prompt: “You’re better off without them anyway.”
Warnings: NSFW, heavy Yandere themes, non con, bondage, gagging, degradation, incel pervert, face slapping, Megumi loses his virginity, porn references, facial
Master List
Yandere Alphabet Prompt List
Requests are temporarily closed. Thanks for understanding.
@murderofravens I’m not sure if you like Yan!Megumi content, so I just thought I’d tag you in it anyway.
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Megumi drags you into the bedroom, your feet kicking, your nails clawing at his arms. Your body twisting and thrashing as he throws you down on the bed and pins you there. He crawls over you, heavy on your chest.
You’re able to let loose one sharp scream before he’s slapping you across the face.
“Why are you pretending to be a victim? Poor baby. Can get all the dick she wants but closes her legs when a decent guy is interested in her.”
“A decent guy wouldn’t do this! Megumi, please!”
“Like you’d know anything about it. I know your type. You’re only after guys who treat you like trash while guys like me come in last. You’re a fucking pathetic whore, holding out on me just because you think you’re better. Is that it? You really think a little skank like you is better than the rest of us?”
He rips your shirt open, the buttons of your blouse going everywhere in different directions. He looks at your rack and smiles devilishly. You try to cover up, use your hands to block his view of your padded bra.
He doesn’t like that. Megumi holds your wrists down against the bed on either side of your hips. He leans in close, smelling the dot of perfume you usually put on your sternum. It’s faint, like a delicate flower, barely there, but he can still make it out.
Your squirming becomes too much for him to deal with. He slaps you again, making you so dizzy and compliant as he stands up to go get something. All you can do is groan and lay there as you try to get your bearings.
Megumi returns and grabs your limbs, and you come alive again when you feel something scratchy wrapping around your wrists.
“No! No, Megumi! Stop it! No! I don’t want this! I don’t want you!”
“Shut up!” He shouts at you. “I can’t believe anything that comes out of that lying, bitchy mouth.”
He tears off a piece of duct tape and shuts you up with it.
Megumi strips off his clothes. If you weren’t so terrified, you’d probably take the time to appreciate his athletic build. He’s just…oh fuck…hes palming himself, growing harder and harder as he looks at you all tied up for his own use.
He runs his hand up your inner thigh, hooking two fingers in your panties and pulling them down slowly. All the way off, he takes them in his hand and fists your cotton underwear against his cock right in front of you. He pumps himself until he has a full erection. It curves upwards slightly, long in length. His thick tip leaks with pre as he crawls over you once more.
Your skirt, bra, shoes, and socks are the next to go. Finally, he sees you, all of you in the state you were meant to be in: naked just for him.
Finally, he gets the girl.
He can see the tears in your eyes as you whimper and make incomprehensible noises behind the duct tape over your lips. He can’t help but smirk at your pathetic state.
“All you bitches are the same,” he whispers into your ear as he thrusts into you, pushing your knees up to your shoulders just like he’s seen so many pornstars do.
Taking your tight pussy might be the best thing Megumi has ever done for himself. He doesn’t know why he didn’t do this sooner. With the way you look at the other boys around campus, you fucking deserve it.
You throw your head back uncontrollably, thrusting your hips up without giving your body consent to do so. You don’t want this. Why, WHY, is your body reacting like you do?
This isn’t right! It isn’t normal. How his cock is hitting your sweet spot of pure pleasure, how he’s bumping your cervix with every heated thrust.
Megumi overstimulates you, biting down hard on your shoulder and pulling your hair back as he keeps himself up with one arm. The wild groans coming from his throat while beating your pussy senseless make you cry tears of terror and shame.
You don’t mean to do it. It just happens. He finally runs your g-spot so ragged that you can’t do anything but come. You’re a messy, twitchy little thing as Megumi splits you in half.
“You fuckmeats treat us like we’re less than you, less than human when we’re the superior ones. We’re your protectors. The least you can do is put yourself to good use and spread your legs,” Fushiguro taunts you, relishing in how weepy and scared you are.
Seeing your tears roll over the duct tape like that really drives him wild. He pulls out, fisting his cock until he’s spilling his seed all over you, giving you a nice and creamy facial.
When Megumi finishes, he’s panting heavily, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. You shake as you look at the back of his wild, dark hair.
“I hope you understand this means we’re together now.”
His words catch you off guard. You don’t want to be together with Megumi, but what can you do right now? You can’t even speak!
“You’re better off without them anyway.”
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kekaki-cupcakes · 1 day
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Heyy! Could I request Jason x Child of Nyx! Reader, i'd figure it'd be a cool thing since you know Zeus and Nyx don't really like each other that and then their children fall in love.
You don't have to do it, if you don't want to and ps. I love all of your works! <3
okay so these have been sitting in my inbox since eons ago, so I decided I was gonna set myself a minimum of 0.4k words because I figured people would rather read a lil bit of their request rather then non of it, but I just churned out 1.2k words of this and I know more then the gods do about nocturnal animals.
enjoy <3
he was raised by wolves - Jason G x child of Nyx reader/animal lover
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Jason dumped his teddy bear jacket on the back of the spinning chair, after he checked there were no hedgehogs eating plum offcuts on it. He’d made that mistake one too many times. There were a lot of miniscule holes in the sleeves of his jacket. 
The medical kit he was looking for was most likely in one of the crates stacked beneath the snake table. The table with the snake tanks on it, obviously. 
Your cabin was dark a lot of the time, when you weren’t there, courtesy of the kingdom of nocturnal animals lurking between books and in pillowcases, so Jason had to turn on a few of the antique lamps you’d found [on the side of the road, of course] so that other people could see.
He got to his knees, wincing at the crack he heard. 
He could also hear a faint hissing. He looked into one of the tanks, and waved at Benjamin. Benjamin was a northern desert night snake. Meaning he looked like if a leopard wearing a choker was turned into a slithery little serpent. Jason was glad you’d passed that pet leopard you used to have onto Pollux and Castor. It got fur all over his clothes.
Benjamin just stuck his tongue out at him, and Jason crawled underneath the desk, looking for the first aid kit every cabin was supposed to have.
There was a pretty high chance you had chucked it out to make room for that little collection of shrinking green frogs you had found in a river by the Hecate cabin, deep in the woods so that when they accidentally cursed bloodlines and the like, no one was in imminent danger. Lou Ellen owed her first born to three different beings, but that was irrelevant. 
He dug past a few boxes of sugar glider pellets, and found the first aid kit. 
“JASON GRACE, SON OF A BITCH, CHILD OF ROME, CONSUL OF DEMIGODS, PRAETOR OF THE FIRST LEGION!”
Jason sat straight up. A thud echoed through the low lit little cabin, and his head began to pound. He’d hit it on the bottom of the snake table. He sniffed, “I said that once.” 
He heard you trot over as he tried to extract himself, the back of his head throbbing painfully. 
“Babe, we talked about this,” you fussed, and yanked him out into the open with the force of someone who took chocolate out of coyotes mouths on the daily. “You gotta stop banging your head! You’re getting that chronic pain from it that Will told you about!”
Jason grumbled about nothing, and squinted as he looked around. Your face was just a blob. 
“You dropped your glasses babe, hear, lemme… wait, hold this,” you said, dumping your wrapped up hoodie into his arms, the one with the moon cycle phases on the back, and then crawling back underneath the snake table. “I’ve got em!”
He watched you slide them back onto his eyes, your hands actually very gentle compared to the yanking from before. He tried not to grin stupidly. The hoodie in his arms wriggled. Jason looked down, and a small spiky red face looked up at him with big shiny eyes.
“Uh…” he said.
You stood up with a huff, “I knew it, you’ve got a concussion. Now you’re slurring your speech!”
“...No, I just wasn’t expecting a fox,” Jason managed to squeak out, staring at the little animal. It was pretty cute. It reminded him of a wolf, but not the wolves he knew, more of a spindly wolf dipped in ketchup. 
You paused, the first aid kit in your hands. “You weren’t? What did you think I was doing in the forest?” 
“I don’t know,” Jason said, standing back up and moving to the squishy blanketed bed behind the humongous crystal ball and stack of telescopes. There were also a few cat playgrounds to weave around, but he managed to sink into your pile of bat shaped teddies and pillows. “Fighting monsters, near death experiences, something regular?”
You rolled your eyes, and sat cross legged on the bed, reaching for his head with those gentle hands that made him understand how you could pick up the deadliest of spiders and feralist of wolverines without even a scratch. 
Jason wasn’t even nocturnal, but he did sink into your hold. 
Then you let go to crack the unfrozen ice pack and let the chemicals take over until it would make the tips of your fingers freezing. Jason knew to expect your cold hands under his shirt, trying to freeze him out. 
He was sort of used to it, though.  
He looked around your cabin while you savagely whacked the poor icepack against one of the many thick framed mirrors lining your walls. A few bats flapped out of their hiding places in the rafters and settled back down. A baby puma hissed from its place by the umbrella stand that was actually just full of swords. 
From the outside, your cabin looked like a tiny portion of a haunted mansion plonked between the Asteria cabin and the Hestia cabin, which was really just a cozy little room for anyone. Jason pet the soft head of the fox napping in his arms. On the inside, though, it was just old lamps and chew toys and even older mirrors. And a lot of poo bags. And record players. And Jason’s hoodies.
You were already wearing his teddy bear jacket, but he didn’t argue when you pressed the ice pack to his head.
“So, what were you really lookin for in there, babe?” you asked, taking back the fox. You held your hand out, and it disappeared into a shadow. 
“Bandages.”
On the other side of the room, out of a shadow, you grabbed a ziploc bag of raspberries. You pulled it back and began feeding the little fox, red staining your cold fingertips. 
“You know you can’t beat Beth, right?” you teased, looking up for a moment with those gorgeous eyes that made Jason’s head feel a little floaty. Or maybe it was just the injury. 
You smirked, “I mean, not that it’s totally not hot when you beat the shit out of people or anything.”
Yep. Definitely just the head injury. Totally.
Jason ate a slightly squashed raspberry. “I know, but I wanted to practise. I was gonna find Will. Can’t remember how to wrap my wrists.”
You passed over the fox, who wiggled out of the hoodie and curled around a fruit bat Squishmellow with a yawn, fangs stained with red that may or may not be berries or blood. 
Jason shuffled forwards on the bed, ice pack falling from his white blonde hair. “My turn?”
“I thought you were going to get the shit beaten out of you by Annabeth?” You said with a smirk. You had that shark tooth necklace on. Jason gave you a half hearted evil eye, and you opened your arms.
He flopped into the hug, pushing you both back onto the bed. A Tasmanian devil [how? You were in America!] and a grumpy looking white tailed deer and about seven different types of bush mice stared at you. 
Jason didn’t care. He snuggled into your hug, chin on your chest. Your fingers ran through his hair.  
He was your favorite feral animal. 
»»————- ★ ————-««
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popironrye · 1 day
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The Lost Boys
Leisure Headcanons
💋 David 💋
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Is a skilled fire arm shooter. (Loves the cowboy aesthetic)
Has his own gun hidden in the cave.
Doesn't get the chance too often, but will ride a horse when the chance arises.
Likes wood carving. Mostly non specific whittling into basic shapes or animals. It helps him relax.
Movie nut! When the boys go the Max's store to fool around, David makes sure to tuck a movie or two that catches his eye in his coat. Tends to watch them alone, all the questions from Paul would just grate on his nerves too much.
I imagine David would be like REALLY good at origami for no particular reason. He doesn't even try, just once the boys do it just because and he's just the best at it.
I don't know if vampires can emerge in water in the lost boys lore, but if they can David loves to swim. Chilling in water clears his mind.
💀 Dwayne 💀
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Skater boi! Does a lot of sick tricks, but when you can levitate it's less impressive. XD
Doesn't care for guns, but likes archery. Hammers his own arrow heads. Dwayne and David like to pick a spot in the woods to shoot make shift targets.
A real book worm. Will spend a lot of time just silently reading for hours.
Takes up knitting from time to time. He prefers hand knitted blankets and throws rather then the store ones.
Likes to make jewelry. Made his own necklace.
Enjoys all types of puzzles. Cross word, jigsaw, and brain teasers.
Can sew and offers to sew up holes made in all the clothes the boys decide not to get new ones.
🌿 Paul 🌿
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Can play the guitar.
Also likes to sing, and is pretty good at it. Wanted to start a band, but the other boys weren't up for it.
Has the biggest music collection and is always hogging the tabletop/cassette/cd player.
Amateur photography. Just likes to take photos randomly. Some are really artsy.
Got really into tie dye for a while. Although he might have just been high.
When he wants to relax, Paul really likes to stargaze. Laying outside the cave looking at the sky and hearing the waves of the ocean just makes him feel at peace.
When David isn't using the tv monitor, Paul enjoys quite a few video games. He also likes to take on the arcade and carnival games at the boardwalk.
🪶 Marko 🪶
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Aside from pigeons, Marko will try to domesticate a number of animals to the cave, including stray dogs, cats, deer, badgers, squirrel, foxes, bats, and even a black bear once.
He did in fact not domesticate a black bear, but he did wrestle one.
He does his own patchwork on his jacket.
Like David, he likes to sculpt into wood, but he usually carves patterns and landscapes into more grand pieces.
He's also a skilled painter. Mostly he'll paint murals on sections of the cave David says is ok for him to paint on.
He collects sea shells on the beach.
He'll style the others hair. Especially David who he'll cut and dye in the way he likes best.
🔥Pack Activities🔥
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Dart throwing. The bigger the target the better. David and Dwyane are very competitive at this one specifically.
Rollerblading. Put wheels on shoes, what more can you want?
Listening to music. The boys have very wide music tastes and sometimes they cross over and they all like the same stuff. They take turns around the player of their choice to just smoke, drink, and listen to the sounds of the music plays.
Card games. Specifically poker when they're all together. They make things more interesting when they make bets.
And of course motocycle cruising and board walk loitering.
Something that always strikes me with vampires in fiction and indeed with any immortal creature with the high and emotional intelligence of humans. IMMORTALITY IS FUCKING BORING!
I mean, think about it. Imagine you're given all the free time in the world with very little responsibility with no fear of getting sick or tired allowed to do pretty much whatever you want. What would you do? Cause I would go stir crazy. So I came up with these dumb little head canons on how I image the boys specifically would pass the time in their little vampire lives that doesn't revolve around murdering and feeding off of people.
Of course cruising on their bikes come to mind. And there's a couple in the movie we get to see like Dwayne's skateboarding and Marko's fondness for pigeons but I wanted to throw more possibilities out there. :3
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moodymelanist · 1 day
Text
Is There A Problem, Officer?
happy day 6 of @nestaarcheronweek, and happy birthday Nesta! I hope you all enjoy this… not so quiet birthday party 😉
Summary: Nesta wanted to celebrate her twenty-sixth birthday quietly, but her friends had… other ideas.
Word Count: 3k
♕♕♕♕♕
Nesta
“Happy birthday, Nesta!” Elain and Feyre said in unison as Nesta opened her townhouse door.
“Thank you,” Nesta replied, pleased to see her sisters. Elain had come bearing cake and Feyre had come bearing alcohol, both of them just as welcome as her sisters’ faces. “And thanks for coming.”
Nesta was turning twenty-six today, and instead of going out and getting drunk with her friends, she’d decided to do something a little more lowkey. She’d quickly learned twenty-five was the age her body had decided to turn on her, and she wasn’t exactly keen to repeat the vicious hangover she’d survived last year.
So instead of getting all dressed up and hitting the town, she’d decided to do something much more relaxed. She’d invited her sisters and some close friends over to order in some food, drink some wine, and otherwise have a good time ringing in Nesta’s birthday. Everyone had been more than willing to go along with it — even Feyre, who was always chomping at the bit to do something more exciting — but Nesta had been looking forward to seeing the people she cared about too much to really question it.
“Like we’d miss your birthday,” Feyre replied as she and Elain walked inside, somehow managing to shut the door behind her without dropping anything. “Even if it’s not as exciting as last year.”
“Sorry I don’t want to spend the next morning puking my guts out again,” Nesta answered as they made their way to the kitchen, rolling her eyes. Feyre’s boyfriend at the time had been surprisingly willing to come take care of her, so she’d been spared most of the aftermath.
“As the person holding your hair back, I’m a big fan of your decision,” Elain agreed with a little laugh. “No offense, Nesta.”
“None taken,” Nesta responded, snorting. She helped Feyre and Elain unload their goodies and the three of them took a few minutes to properly arrange everything on the counter. “Okay, that’s fine for now. Come say hi to everyone else.”
Keep reading on AO3 here!
tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @fieldofdaisiies | @goddess-aelin | @c-e-d-dreamer | @talkfantasytome | @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk | @sv0430 | @talibunny30 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @champanheandluxxury | @lilah-asteria | @burningsnowleopard | @sayosdreams | @readskk | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @bellaful08 | @readergalaxy | @podemechamardek | @pearlfortears | @nerdperson524 | @jmoonjones | @kale-theteaqueen | @autumnbabylon | @hiimheresworld | @illyrianshadowhunter | @dustjacketmusings | @live-the-fangirl-life | @that-little-red-head | @sweet-pea1 | @brieq | @queercontrarian | @jsmelodies | @afflicted-with-wanderlust
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shadow1515 · 2 days
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Too Sweet
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Pairing: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard/Female, Surface Reader Word Count: 5,138 Warnings: a lot, rape/non-con, older man (he’s a zombie basically)/younger woman (reader is 20), monster fucking, size kink, rough sex, gun play, blood kink, glove kink?, loss of virginity, dacryphilia, forced orgasm, orgasm denial, creampie Summary: Your father dead, brother gone in search for his killers, mother gone in search for him, you were left alone in the wilderness. You thought you knew how to take care of yourself, but that idea is challenged when a certain ghoul in a cowboy hat shows up at your dining room table. Tags: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. READ THE WARNINGS. DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY. Please, read the warnings, if any of this triggers you do not continue!!!!!!!!!! Note: first post here, but i also posted on ao3 where i have posted fics before... just... bear with me, the brain rot was real for this one. I have never written anything at this level of depravity but this yucky looking man without a nose took hold of me and I had to write this. I did most of it when I should have been studying for a quiz, but it's fineeeee. Anyway, please enjoy this 5k word piece of filth that was only read through once…… (And yes the title is based off Hozier’s song Too Sweet.)
You were born and raised on the surface with its sandy horizons and burning sun, but your life was definitely better than most others who live on the surface of this godforsaken world. Your parents had found a nice place with tons of supplies, the ability to grow plants, a water filter, and it was hidden fairly well. You weren’t entirely sure how they had found such a haven in the wasteland, but honestly you couldn’t complain too much. Alongside your older brother, you grew up knowing how to grow your own food, hunt, defend yourself, create booby traps, the normal things every kid grew up learning. You were also one of the lucky few that was taught how to read and write as your mother had been taught by her parents and passed it onto you and your brother, something you were forever grateful for. 
Books were a solace for you, one of the few you could find, especially after your brother ran off to god knows where and your mother went off in search of him just a few months ago. After your father passed away three years ago, your brother felt it necessary to be the “man of the house” and make sure you and your mother were taken care of. It wasn’t that you were ungrateful for his protection and watchful eye, but he could be a little extreme at times. Your father died just over a year ago, and it was hard on all of you. Perhaps your brother took it a bit harder since he never showed his sadness about it… only his anger. See, your father was killed by some raiders on one of his outings to get more supplies. Your brother was with him when it happened but managed to escape. You were almost one hundred percent sure that was where your brother had gone; looking for your father’s killers.
Unfortunately, that had been just over four months ago. A few days ago your mother grew sick of it and went to try and find your brother, leaving you all alone. You knew how to protect yourself and make sure the house was protected and hidden, but that didn’t mean you liked being alone or that you didn’t worry every day about your missing family. In fact, it made it worse.
You felt your patience and sanity wearing thin as the days went on and you heard nothing from your mother or brother. You were worried sick, the only things keeping you from running off by yourself were tending to the farm and the chickens, checking on the water filter, reading your books, really anything to distract you from the inevitable truth;that your family was dead. 
One day, you were out tending to the livestock and farms for most of the day. It was starting to get dark and mostly everything was done, so it was about time to head inside for the night. As soon as you opened the door, you could tell something was off. Maybe it was the slightly larger, sandy footprints through the hallway, or the way that everything around you seemed to stand still, either way you knew something was wrong. Unfortunately, you weren’t quick enough. Even with your added paranoia from being alone for a few days, your reflexes couldn’t have prepared you enough for the sight of a man… no, a ghoul, lounging at your dining table. Seat pulled back, feet on the table, fingers lazily playing with the trigger of the sawed off shotgun that was pointed directly at you. 
Part of his face was obscured by a ragged hat, but you could still tell that he was a ghoul, his face covered in scars, red and shiny from the radiation. He slowly lifted his head, dark eyes shining in the setting sun streaming through the window, the black hole where his nose should have been even more prominent as his gaze slowly trailed from your muddy boots up your bare legs (you wanted to wear shorts, it was hot out), across your curves until they finally landed on your face, lingering on your parted lips for a moment too long in your opinion. 
Your eyes, on the other hand, kept on moving between his ruined face to the gun pointed at you in quick succession, not knowing which to focus on more. Before you could think of doing anything else, he finally spoke.
“Well, sweetheart, seems you found yourself in quite the predicament here.” The words roll off his tongue easily, like they were practiced, used, normal for him to utter. That nickname too, so antagonizing and belittling with just two syllables. It made your blood boil… not like that… right?
You attempted to speak, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, your eyes still flicking between the barrel of the gun and the ruined face before you. Your very apparent lack of thoughts and speech only made the ghoul chuckle. It was a deep sound, like a rumble of the earth during a thunderstorm, the vibrations running all through your body, unyielding to the forces that surround you. 
“Cat got your tongue, darlin’?”
The question was not meant to be answered, in fact it made all semblance of words leave your mouth entirely. He stood up then, the spurs on his boots startling you as he took step after step closer to you, the gun in his hand hanging loosely at his side. At first, you didn’t move, but as he got closer, you took a fearful step back, not realizing until it was too late that he maneuvered you in such a way as he was getting closer so now your back was flush against the wall. The ghoul was close now, too close, so close you could feel his body heat, the stench of his breath from his yellowed mouth, the gunpowder and cigarettes and booze that lingered on him like a haze after a fire. He was terrifying. 
You let out a pathetic squeak as the end of his shotgun found its place underneath your chin, tilting your head up to make sure you looked him directly in the eyes. His eyes weren’t an evil yellow or filled with contempt, they were a deep brown, a soft brown, and they were filled with an emotion you really could not place. The position you were in was compromising, with his face inches from your own (his hips inches from your own). And that look in his eyes. Why couldn’t you figure it out?
The cool metal of the gun felt as if it was burning you as he tipped your head back just a bit more, his dark eyes focused on yours, “Ain’t you just a sweet little thing, all alone, no way of protectin’ yourself.” You did have a way of protecting yourself, it was called booby traps that he somehow managed to get by, but you bit your tongue. 
“What do you want with me?” You managed to speak that one question that was burning in your mind in spite of the shivers of fear that ran down your spine as your chin moved the shotgun touching it.
At that little comment from you, the ghoul smirked like the bastard he was, “Well you see, missy,” You felt a surge of relief followed quickly by terror again as the gun left your chin only to trail down your neck and land on the collar of your tank top, a collar that was already pretty low cut (again, it was hot). The barrel caught in the fabric as he continued to speak, “I have it on good information that this little abode of yours happens to also be the home of a stupid boy who crossed paths with the wrong man.”
Your heart sank. You knew exactly what he was referring to. Your fucking brother, off doing who knows what, stirring up the worst kind of trouble. He wanted to avenge your father, you knew that, but did he not think? Of course he didn’t. He thought it would be all unicorns and daisies as he tracked down a pack of murderers. Why would he think twice about the trouble that would bring onto you?
“Look, I–” You gave a dry swallow as the gun at your chest pushed further beneath your shirt, just shy away from tugging it to the side and taking a peek. “You’re looking for my brother, right? I-I don’t know where he is. He left months ago and then my mother–” You cut yourself off, you didn’t want your mother caught up as this bounty hunter’s prey as well.
The ghoul cocked his head to the side, eyes never leaving your face even as the gun moved the fabric of your tank top to the side, your cleavage very obviously there for the looking. “Don’t let me stop you, sweetheart. Please, tell me more about your dear mama.”
You felt the tears on your cheeks before you realized they even formed in the first place. Why did this have to happen? You were blessed, you knew that, with this home and your family, but that didn’t mean you had to have horrible things happen to you as well. You already lost your father, your brother and mother were gone, but you didn’t do anything. 
The ghoul’s gaze followed the tears as they trailed down your face, a twisted pleasure running through him as he watched them. You were too sweet for this world, too sweet for a man like him to find you all alone like this. 
Without much extra thought, you felt the ghoul position his leg between yours, the rough material of his pants around his thigh immediately rubbing against the cloth covering your bottom half. The movement caught you off guard and another gasp of surprise left your mouth, a fresh wave of tears trailing down your face. So that was what he wanted… Growing up you learned what it was that made babies, the simple things like that, but you were sheltered, never leaving your home or the confines of your land, much preferring to stay with your family and not venture out into the dangerous unknown. And it was made dangerous because men, of things, like him.
“Awh, what is it, darlin’?” You heard the gun click into its holster at his side, one hand moving to grip your hip with a strength that really shouldn’t have shocked you, the other moving towards your face, his gloved thumb swiping at the tears gathering there. You mewled again as his thigh moved, the rough fabric causing unwanted friction in an unwanted place. “You scared of little ol’ me?”
“Please,” The fear you felt before only grew as the realization dawned on you. He wanted information and he knew the only way of getting it out of you would be to hurt you… but that didn’t have to mean just cuts and bruises, especially for a man like him. “Please don’t do this. I- I don’t know anything else.” 
You knew it was a lie, he knew it was a lie. You just wanted to protect your mother, and maybe you could convince him of that. At least, you hoped you could. 
The ghoul moved the hand on your face down, resting on the collar of your shirt, “Sweetheart, you really don’t know how the world works out there, do ya?” His face moved closer to yours, his breath hot against the shell of your ear, “It’s eat or be eaten, darlin’, and you ain’t telling me what I wanna know.”
“But-” You hiccuped as fresh tears left your eyes, “But I don’t know anythi–”
A sharp gasp that bordered on a scream escaped you as the hand at your hip left to join the other one and a loud ripping sound invaded your senses, your tank top now ripped clean down the middle, exposing your breasts to him.
Damn, your skin was so soft. Not a scar on your body, just some dirt and scrapes from working outside. The sweat from the sun still lingered on your skin, making it glow, and that scent, it alone was enough to make a ghoul go feral. But he could stave off that feeling if he found a way to get rid of it. 
The ghoul’s eyes found yours again in spite of your breasts being right there. “Sweet thing,” God you hated how small his nicknames made you feel. “I don’t think you’re understandin’ still. I got a bounty to find, you know how to find ‘em, and, well, I know a fun way to get it outta ya.” 
At that last comment you felt the rough leather of his gloves finally touch your breast, squeezing and toying with them in a way you never thought possible. His hands were everywhere, twisting, rough, strong, it made your skin sweat and your back arch. You whimpered as he tugged at your nipples, the pain mixed with a different feeling, one that didn’t feel that bad. As your back arched, your hips unintentionally bumped against his and you felt something hard poke at you. Your eyes widened in shock, the nice feeling from before immediately dissipating as your situation dawned on you again. With that thought, a renewed vigor filled you, your hand clenching in a fist that was raised and swung at the monster’s face. 
Your punch landed with a loud thud but to your horror he didn’t even flinch, just stopped his ministrations on your breasts to glare at you, his anger radiating off of him in waves. 
A cruel smirk grew on his scarred face, “There’s that fight I was looking for.”
His sentence was punctuated with a harsh slap across your face, the force making your vision blink out for a couple of seconds as your head swung to the side. You tasted blood in your mouth and felt a strong hand grip your jaw, harshly moving your head so that it faced him again. 
“You wanna try that again, sweetheart, or are ya gonna tell me what I wanna know?”
Despite your fear and the knowledge that this man, this ghoul, could kill you in a matter of seconds, it would take more than that to get you to give up your mother and brother to him. With that thought in mind, you gathered up some of the blood in your mouth and spit at him, the red liquid splattering over his already reddened face. 
The hand at your jaw moved to grip your throat, squeezing just enough to cause discomfort and fear that he could do much worse. You watched in horror as his free hand then moved to gather up some of the blood on his face, the finger now sticky and shiny with it moving to his mouth as he licked it clean, a face of pure pleasure overcoming him as he tasted you. 
“You taste sweeter than apple pie,” Your throat was squeezed tighter as his face grew closer to yours, his missing nose making it easier to invade your space. “And that just makes me wanna taste you even more.”
His head immediately moved to your neck where you felt his hot breath on your shoulder, his hand moved to grab at your face to keep you from moving. You squirmed in his grasp as you felt a rough tongue drag against your skin, the feeling foreign to you. It seemed like he really was tasting you, licking at the sweat and grime that coated your skin, savoring the taste. Your body tried to wriggle free, a scream warbled by the grip he had on your cheeks as you felt the blunt ends of his teeth bite deep into the juncture of your shoulder and neck. The force in which he bit down was sure to leave a mark, the abused flesh turning red and irritated almost immediately. 
You wanted to pass out right then and there, your mind racing with thoughts of what he might do to you next. He lingered at your neck for a moment before giving it one last swipe of his tongue and returning to look you dead in the eyes, a wicked smile on his scarred skin. Your face was smushed together by his gloved hand and you watched as his gaze traveled back to your neck, back to the mark he left there. His hand quickly followed that gaze, trailing over the mark before gripping your throat again. You saw as the thoughts and emotions raced behind his eyes but you didn’t know where they would lead.
Without any more warning, the ghoul used the hand on your throat to swing you around, slamming your back onto the table. You tried to get out from under him, swinging your arms and legs wildly, screaming (not that anyone would hear you), trying to land a punch or a kick, anything to get away. The ghoul grabbed a hold of your wrists in one hand, pinning them to the table above your head as his free hand went to his waist, grabbing the shotgun from its holster and pointing at your face once again. 
Your struggle stopped the moment you heard the holster pop open, your terror growing tenfold as you knew at this distance, one simple slip of his finger would cause your entire head to explode off your body. The ghoul’s smirk was horrible, devilish, and it turned your blood ice cold. He moved the barrel of the gun closer to you until it brushed against your pursed lips still stained red from your blood.
You knew what he wanted you to do, but you couldn’t, the thought making you want to die on the spot. The ghoul didn’t seem to like that, though, the barrel pushing against your lips more roughly.
“Open wide, darlin’” His voice was dark, gravely, filled with irritation but also wild interest, or perhaps lust. “You really don’t wanna make me even more angry.”
You looked deep into his eyes, the flakes of red across his face from your blood making him appear even more frightening, even more like a monster only seen in children’s stories. You knew if you hesitated any longer he’d be more than happy to pull the trigger and blow your head clean off. Your vision grew blurry as more tears formed, your mouth opening just the slightest amount to allow for the gun to slide past your lips. The taste of metal and gunpowder made you want to gag, your eyes finding the dark ones above you as a slow exhale of breath left the ghoul’s mouth, his gaze transfixed on the way his gun slid deep into your mouth.
“Ain’t that a sight,” He spoke in a low tone, voice filled with fascination.
The gun moved deeper into your mouth, the taste giving way to pain as it pushed against the back of your throat, your mouth wrapping painfully around it, stretching it in uncomfortable ways. You felt it begin to leave your mouth before pushing back in, the slow fucking of your throat by a gun making your tears only increase, the gaging sensation becoming more prominent. You tried to move your arms, to get the gun out of your mouth, but his grip was too strong, his fascination with the scene he created too enticing for him to stop. You felt a hard poke against your thighs as they draped over the end of the table and were pinned by the ghoul’s strong body. You continued to gag around the gun as he fucked it faster and rougher into your face, his breaths becoming louder above you. The hard poke from before rubbed against your thigh as he continued, unprovoked, or perhaps more enticed by your tears and the pathetic sounds attempting to leave around the thick barrel of his gun.
“It’s a damn good thing you ain’t out in the real world, pretty lady. You woulda been eaten right up the moment someone laid eyes on ya.” 
His final comment was finished as the gun was shoved further down your throat, a garbled scream rising from you only to be smothered by the metal. He finally removed the weapon from your mouth, saliva making the metal glisten in the dying light from the sun outside. Your cheeks felt burning hot, covered in your tears and sweat as you were given some reprieve from his assault. 
The ghoul looked over his gun, that same bastardly smirk still prominent on his face as he placed it back in its holster, leaving your spit still on it. “Now that was fun, wasn’t it sweetheart,” You tried to glare at him, but didn’t dare speak, your mouth too sore and abused. Your small fight made the ghoul chuckle again, the hand holding your wrists dragging you up from the table with a harsh yank. His face was inches from yours again as he held you in the air, the only thing keeping you from falling was his grip on your hands and his hips digging into yours against the table. “Wanna tell me where you dear mama is now?”
So this torture was still to get information out of you. You loved your mother, you couldn’t bear the thought of giving her up so easily just to save your own skin. 
“Fuck you.” Your voice was strained, your throat throbbing in pain at each syllable. 
“I hoped you’d say that.” With a shove, he threw you to the floor, moving to stand over you. With your limbs finally free, you scrambled to get away, but he was too quick, one heeled boot slamming down on your leg with enough force to stun you. You screamed out in pain, eyes going wide as you watched him reach for his belt, foot still pressed against your leg, keeping you from moving. His hands worked slowly, the terror building up in you at each passing second. His belt came off far too quickly followed by the button of his pants. 
You closed your eyes, not wanting to see where this was going. You heard the rustle of fabric as the ghoul removed his foot from your leg and went to straddle you, strong thighs on either side of your hips, one hand slammed against the floor beside your head, the other grabbing your jaw in a vice-like grip. 
“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” You hesitated before giving in as his grip strengthened to the point of pain, making you gasp and your eyes fly open. “I want you to watch as I ruin you.”
The tears never seemed to stop, his hand leaving your jaw only to rip your shorts and panties down your legs in one harsh tug, the fabric burning against your too sensitive skin. You didn’t dare look down, your gaze staying fixed on his, hoping that if you didn’t look then it wasn’t actually going to happen. 
In spite of your prayers, you felt the rough leather of a gloved finger run through your folds, a sharp intake of breath the only sound you made. Your attempts at staying quiet were soon overcome as his finger found that secret spot just at the top of your cunt, the roughness of the glove and the fear that was coursing through your blood made it even more sensitive and a small mewl of discomfort left your lips. 
The ghoul continued to rub at your clit, your thighs beginning to shake, the sounds escaping your throat enough to make your skin boil in shame. “C’mon, pretty lady, do ya really wanna make this harder on yourself?” He went to whisper in your ear again, his fingers working magic against you. “I can make this feel so good for ya, just tell me what I wanna hear.”
Your hips began to buck against his hand, your moans growing louder as his thumb remained on your clit, one finger entering your cunt and it was like you were seeing stars. You had never done anything like this before, never really had the chance to. You experimented by yourself of course, but having someone else do it to you? It was on a whole other level. 
You chased your peak like it was the only thing standing in the way of your survival, your hips shaking, mouth agape, eyes still fixed on the dark ones above you. You were so close. You could feel it building, boiling over–
A pathetic cry left you as he removed his hand, bringing it up to his face as he inspected the wetness now coating his fingers. With that same hand he gripped your cheeks, your own fluids coating your face, the scent invading your senses. 
“I said I could make ya feel good, but you haven’t given me anythin’ in return yet.” His tone was so cocky, so arrogant, and yet it sent warmth shooting down to your core, unbidden and unwelcome to your mind, but it was received with exaltation as it fueled the slowly dying fire within you. 
“Please–” It was pathetic, you knew that, and you weren’t even sure what you were saying please to, please stop, please don’t stop, please let me come mr ghoul sir?
Your desire was partially snuffed out as you felt something large and warm slap against your stomach. The suddenness of it made you forget to not look down as your gaze landed on the ghoul’s cock. It was big, the skin red and irritated, scarred from the radiation, just like the rest of his body. As much as the pleasure he was giving you before felt amazing, you couldn’t take that thing. 
“That can’t fit,” You spoke hurriedly, the fear taking hold once more. “Please, I-I don’t know anything! I can’t help you, just please don’t put that in me.” Your sobs grew hysterical, tears free flowing, incoherent mumbles leaving you. “Sweetheart, you really think I care?” 
He was cruel, he was a monster, a horrible, despicable monster.
The ghoul reached for his discarded belt, using it to tie your wrists together above your head as you tried to squirm away from him again. And you watched in terror as one of his hands guided the head of his cock to hit against your opening, the other hand roaming down your neck to grab at your breasts again. The tip of him tried to get inside of you and you already felt like you would die right there.
“Fuck, sweetheart, you are tight.” His gaze left his cock and moved to look at you again, “You never been fucked before, have ya?”
Your blabberings and the fear in your eyes was enough of an answer for him. “Damn, didn’t think I’d find a cunt as sweet as yours in this place.” He finally managed to push in, the pain was horrible, it made your insides burn, your mind going blank. “Makes me wanna stay here just a bit longer, still gotta know where your little shit of a brother is afterall.”
Your mind was gone, overcome with pain as he pushed more of his length into you, heedless of your squirming, your tears, the resistance he felt as he kept on going deeper and deeper. 
It was horrible, you were glad your brain tried to block out other thoughts, albeit in vain as he pulled out just to slam back into you, fully sheathed in your tight cunt. 
“You’re gripping me like a vice, darlin’, I dunno if I can even get out.” He gave a soft chuckle at that, punctuated with a sharp tug from your warmth only to shove it back in at a brutal pace. 
You couldn't take it, couldn’t comprehend how this was happening to you. Distantly, you heard as his gloves came off, the rough skin of his fingers grabbing your hip with enough strength to form bruises while the other other arm braced against the floor beside your head, using it as leverage to rut into you. Your legs were splayed around his, your back scraping against the wooden floor, digging sharp lines into your skin. 
You could faintly hear quiet sounds escape the man above you as he fucked you, his arms moving to grab your legs, bending them until your knees were beside your head, allowing him to reach even deeper into you. The head of his cock felt like a nail was being hammered into your cervix with each thrust. Your glazed eyes wandered down to see where you were joined and a jolt of horror ran through you. Each time he rammed into you, your belly bulged up a bit, it was like he was rearranging your insides to make more room for him. 
The ghoul’s gaze followed yours and a louder grunt left him, one hand leaving your leg to press against the bulge on your belly. “Darlin’, you’re just too good for this fucked up world.”
The house was filled with the noises of flesh meeting flesh, your eyes were blank, staring up at the ceiling his thrusts continued. You didn’t want to think, to feel, to exist anymore. But the ghoul has other plans. Your face scrunched up as you felt a textured finger find your clit once more, rubbing it in all the right ways to make your mind snap back into focus. The pleasure was building again, each snap of his hips mixed with the bundle of nerves at your center being played with and you were reaching that peak again. Your moans intermingling with the slapping of flesh on flesh, you didn’t want to reach that crest and fall over it, you didn’t want this encounter to feel good for you too, but by god it did.
Your voice was raw as it screamed out, your pleasure pushed over the edge as you came, your thighs coating with your fluids, the noises becoming even more obscene as he continued to fuck you harder and faster.
“Goddamn, you are just too fucking good.”
His hands gripped your hips as his pace quickened but lost its rhythm. You knew he was getting close and the overstimulation of being fucked through and beyond your orgasm was making it hard to think of anything other than him. His hips finally stopped pistoning into you, giving one last, rough thrust as something hot and sticky filled you up, leaking out around his cock that remained in you. 
The ghoul braced his hands on either side of your head, his eyes zeroed in on yours, breath heavy, sweat on his brow. “You gonna help me out now, sweetheart?”
Your head lolled to the side, eyes closing as you passed out. 
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