#I have met with an obsessive fate

[stupidhany]

I don't have much to offer get happy mask salesman'd

[deus-ex-mona]

stretching to interpret nonfan as an aiyuu song like

[travelerclondike]

I love how in the tags and comments, everyone is like “THE HORRORS!!!” Which… yes. <3 But I honestly love playing with the concept of soulmates, but that's also because many of my stories delve into the concept of fate. But being Ace myself, soulmates aren't usually romantic. They're one's second half, the only one who truly and fully understands how the other's mind works, who each has almost a second sense when their “other” is in danger, the one each is forever tied to whether or not they can comprehend how or why it's them who are made for each other. I never thought to use anything like a mark or first words or hands or anything, but my gosh, playing with the concept brings out ALLLL THE DRAMA. I weep, I drool, I laugh. 

Because on the one hand, with so, SO many relationship combos, romantic soulmates are actually pretty rare so while everyone would just love to find that perfect connection, most understand the odds of finding your one true love as your future spouse is unrealistic to strive for. But that doesn't mean you're doomed to be alone, just know that you can still meet someone, fall madly in love, get married, have kids, and still understand that when things get rough, you may both have someone else you storm off to vent at because they understand you well enough to say if you're being crazy or unreasonable or share enough of that connection that the advice (whether good advice or not) cools the internal turmoil and makes you feel like something you probably should have seen or thought of yourself in the heat of the moment. Even in that world, lovers are probably idealized because it sounds like perfection in theory, but anyone who has actually found their soulmate knows even that wouldn't be without conflict. 

Family:

In these worlds, it's probably considered “lucky” when the soulmate turns out to be a family member because those on the outside may gush about how fortunate it must be to have that connection with someone you've known your whole life and save you ~all the trouble~ of searching for that level of bond. But the “lucky” people may not feel so lucky because it both leaves a TON of uncertainty for the future and a sort of bitterness that fate would pair you with a family member giving a feeling of being cut off from some of the joys others have in the discovery. After all, if you’re free to find and marry whoever you want instead of hoping fate will give it to you, it probably feels a little daunting. Like if your other half is a sibling, are you even meant to marry at all? But maybe they realize they don’t want to be with anyone, and can still vent or cry to their loved one about any other life’s troubles. Like I’m sure as a teen there would be some disgust while everyone is wondering if their classroom crush is “the one” there’s this kid over here going “ugh, I’m already tied to my mom, how fucking embarrassing” and trying to deny it while their friends are like “I wish my parents were so understanding / I wish I could go do all those fun things every weekend with my mom…” and no, no you don’t. But honestly having a sibling, parent, cousin, aunt, uncle, may be appreciated further down the line. 

This can cause a bit of tensions though with the rest of the family like feeling left out (if its between two siblings and a third sibling just doesn’t fit in), favoritism, maybe the other parent swears sometimes they’re always the bad guy or being teamed up on because the other and child have that sort of shared interest or mindset for mischief, the parents upset that kid is so much closer with other relative that didn’t raise them and seems to light up whenever they visit. Maybe one sibling is on bad terms with the rest of the family or in denial and desperate to get away only to have their other sibling somehow be the one to track them down and try to reason with them. How did they know where to find them? It’s just a feeling they had they knew where they’d go. If things with the family are really bad, the siblings may even leave together if they can convince each other, but how that affects the rest of the family is open for some heartache or bitterness. 

Best Friends: 

We all know the trope of found family and such, but sometimes the person you’re meant to be with does feel like you could be related when finding that perfect match. It’s not always like an instant click (just like love at first sight is uncommon) but there’s a certain point when hanging out that people really do look at these two and tease how they must be separated at birth, secretly lovers, or have just spent WAY too much time together because appear to share the same brain cell. Friendships are a little more tricky though, because there’s a lot of people one can be friends with, and even close with, but just like with lovers, how do you know THIS friend is the one who’s there forever even if you sometimes drift apart? And it’s a bit of weird line because if a pair does sync up that well and feel like they complete each other, there’s probably the outside pressure that maybe they SHOULD get married and move in together and be perfect and… no. They’re just friends, practically siblings, something “more” than siblings if that’s even possible, but they don’t love each other like that. In fact, it’s perfectly normal in this world for each half of this pairing to marry others but the spouses are in no way surprised when these two disappear for a “girls night out”, camping trips, road trips to sporting events, over at one house or the other almost constantly, meeting for breakfast every Saturday, or whatever it is they like to do together that spouse may or may not have any interest in. And you know what? That’s great if they have someone they can share all of those things with outside the family to get some time away from it all. But… depending on how it’s handled, just like the BFF can be seen as part of each other’s families, there’s just as much risk of maybe getting disconnected from the family. Spouse getting frustrated about the finances on this hobby, or if it seems like they’re being left home a lot, or if the bros are watching tv in the livingroom while wife is being asked to grab things for them so they don’t have to leave the game, or the spouse starts to wonder if there really is more to it than they’re letting on. What secrets do they share? How does it feel knowing you’re never going to fully understand or have that connection like they do with someone else? However, the funny thing is, if the BFFS are already paired, there’s a good chance the spouses also have soulmates they can go out and do fun things with or spend hours on the phone, or go and vent to about lover’s stupid hobbies when they’re frustrated. That is… if they’ve found theirs yet. Which can also lead to the potential dramas where they find their soulmate after they marry, is it romantic? That’s some internal conflict and red flags right there. And potentially opens the way for fics of BFFs where one is just really helping the other out after their lover left them, or trying to keep them from doing something stupid if they were cheated on. 

Lovers: 

In the off chance someone DOES find that their forever and ever is actually a romantic partner, that still doesn’t mean it’s all rainbows and sunshine. It just means that their sense of communication and predicting each other’s actions is often on point to a level it can be annoying or hilarious depending on what they do with this knowledge. Like surprises might be hard when they know each other so well to guess what they’re planning or would like to do, but it can be funny when one tries to bring up something and other is totally alright with it because they already knew they were going do that. Word of advice before you run off? It’s also nice that whenever outside stuff is getting to them, they can come home to their spouse and having a deep, meaningful conversation and get some advice without being judged too harshly. Maybe it’s about work, maybe it’s just needing some encouragement, maybe it’s being allowed to be fully vulnerable with their partner when no one else is allowed to see that side of them. But my gosh, when a fight breaks out, it’s usually a case of “you’re both being stupid, stop it” as any of their friends will probably tell them. Because LOVER OF ALL PEOPLE SHOULD UNDERSTAND!!! Yes, but BECAUSE THEY KNOW WHY THEY’RE DOING THIS, DOESN’T MAKE IT ANY LESS RECKLESS / STUPID / PETTY AND THEY’RE TRYING TO REASON WITH THEM!! Synchronized huffing and storming off ensues until they can cool down and come back for the forgiveness and heart to heart. This doesn’t take away from poly-ships, but it does make things a bit more complicated when two in the set are ~fated mates~ but they love the other(s) none the less. The other mate may sometimes feel like a third wheel when it seems like they just don’t share that same connection as the two have, and may run into an argument where one storms off and the other half of the soulmates is like “I’ll calm them down / talk to them” to try to patch things, but that only makes it worse. On the other hand, the polys are fun when exploring all the different reasons they may be in this relationship. Maybe there is a triangle, where the soulmates have that connection, sure, they both fell in love with third member here and are more BFFS with each other. Maybe one member in the relationship is more there for physical affection and doesn’t mind the other two going off to their own activities to feed their interests. Maybe poly already knows their soulmate is someone not a lover (like the previous examples) and falling in love with these two (or more) just sort of happened and they never imagined they could still be so happy. Maybe none of them are soulmates and it’s someone with a family ship, someone with a BFF ship, and someone who hasn’t found theirs yet but it doesn’t matter because they’ve found each other while still able to do things with their pairings outside the group. 

A subcategory of this is naturally the ~fated lovers~ who just have all the obstacles in the way. Maybe someone is in love with one and refuses to acknowledge they’re meant for someone else. Maybe it’s a parent who sees who their kid has fallen in love with and ABSOLUTELY FLIPS OUT because look at this punk. Look at this jerk. Look at this unattainable princess that’s going to get you killed trying to reach. Maybe there’s actual obstacles in the way such as distance or borders or hierarchy. But those are the tales we love to see overcome. 

Odd and Maybe Even Unfair:

I’m not sure of a catch all for this category, but basically these are the mixed blessings to find your soulmate only to have a caveat that makes one want to curse whatever god thought that would be funny. 

Like mentor / student. One the one hand, it’s so nice to see tales of a kid who meets the bitter and lonely teacher who ends up changing each other’s lives. Some level of fate brought them together, and something about THIS kid made the old mentor want to take them in and protect them and teach them all they know and become like a second mother / father to them and the kid may be flustered at first but they keep coming back and learn quickly and soon they’re to fight for this once stranger through thick and thin because they have a connection that can’t be understood. But it’s also… weird. Like usually the mentor in question is middle aged or even old and suddenly they’ve found a companion who gives them life and completes them in a way they haven’t thought was even possible for a long, long time, yet at the same time in a world where these kind of meetings are fate, I’m certain there’s a level of swearing at the gods why the mentor should only find such companionship so late. They may have long since given up on ever finding a soulmate or feel like they’ve lived their whole life already getting married, having kids, kids out of the house (usually with a strained relationship in these stories that new kid helps them fix) and NOW the gods have sent them someone to bond with? Not ten, twenty, fifty years ago when they could have enjoyed it? And to have it be someone half, a third, a fourth their age when they find them?? Or the kid to realize while they have someone who they may relate to better than their own family, it’s someone less than ideal, heck total stranger when they met, and likely someone they’re going to outlive. Maybe the outside forces find this weird too. Why does kid keep going to mentor’s place? Is it like a neighbor or gym or after school? Maybe it started as a job but the job is over. Maybe their friends and family don’t like the influence mentor is having on them (like a gang not sure about punishment turning into member is planning on leaving now that mentor has helped them clean up, a parent who thinks what they’re learning is fine as a hobby but now it’s going too far with them wanting to make a career of it, maybe they don’t like the skill being taught in general, ect) In a similar vein is the “suddenly parent” situations where they may have been brought together by crisis, maybe the kid just lost EVERYTHING, and now the adult is flipping out internally because they felt an immediate need to help the kid, but now what? They… have a kid now, as granted to them by fate. Or they have outside obstacles telling them even if they did feel that sudden need to look after them, they need to get back to their family / be turned over to the authorities / go back where they belong but, but, but… … … 

Doomed lovers could be in the above category, but it’s a whole different level of cursing at the gods to have your soulmate only to be ripped apart. Why would they deem you should find your forever and ever only to have it be so short? How are you supposed to keep going when it feels like a part of your soul has died? This may even be on the other side of the cheating coin where it’s not death that keeps them apart but what are they supposed to do if they only found each other too late? When family complications have gotten in the way or old age or when just passing through a city and found a local you’re soon to be ten thousand miles away from? Sure fate deems that everyone will meet their soulmate once in their life, but must it only be this once? What about the enemies to lovers where the love is forbidden by family / country / societal ties and even if they’ve realized they complete each other, they also realize all their meetings may have to be in secret or risk their life for it? Is such a love even worth risking life and limb for? 

Then of course is the complete opposite of the BFFS where they’re not lovers, and don’t become lovers either, but outright nemesis. Different from the enemies to lovers, they genuinely despise each other and just CAN’T figure out why their paths keep crossing unless one is in pursuit of the other. And even then, how does pursuer keep finding them?? Because they know each other, OHHHHH they know each other so well, they could dangerous if they weren’t two sides of the same coin. If one could just convince the other they should be on the same side…. But which side will give in first? The hero to become a villain or the villain to start to redeem themselves? Is there even a hero / villain dynamic or are they both just haughty and dysfunctional and seem evenly matched even as it pisses each other off? Why, WHY would the gods give them a soulmate who shares all of their same interests and seems to understand their mindset but has a twisted perspective when making it sound reasonable when moral compass says it shouldn’t be? Sometimes such a quandary can lead to obsession since they’re attracted to each other and yet it’s maddening that the ONE PERSON IN THE WORLD who fully and truly understands them is someone they can’t stand. 

And of course the “we found them, but at what cost?” Because yes fate has a funny way of getting them together across great distance or across hierarchy or any other circumstance brought up before. But what kind of crazy twist did one have to take to end up there? Like meeting someone in a new land after being forced to flee their home, or tales where they’re part of a captured collective and at least they’ve found companionship or even love to pull them through the ordeal until they can get out of the situation, or maybe they only met because one got badly injured / wounded and found the one to help them / heal them is their destined mate. What of those who only discovered their soulmate after dropping a societal tier due to finances or politics stripping them of their original position? But, um, silver lining, they found something better? 

Forced:

Not really a category, but in one particular world I play with this concept the most in, is the terrifying dark art of soulbinding. This is different from soulmates, because it’s completely unnatural, and brought about by ritual. It breaks things for one, where if one were soulbound, how does that damage things with their actual soulmate if they’ve been tied to another? Not to mention, the connection between these two is almost painful because the mental sync is heightened to a point of control. The point of this practice isn’t for humans though. It’s a means to capture the gods themselves, or try at least, often with terrible consequences. Usually in that the gods don’t take lightly to this and will try to use that tether to take control of the fool arrogant enough to try to command their power. In ancient days it was used as a last resort as a sort of sacrifice to the gods that this puppet be used to harness their power for the sake of the people or the lands, thinking that one who was soulbound actually lost their soul and would die when the vessel was no longer needed, but it was only a matter of time before someone tried to test that to its limits. There’s also a ritual that requires three people, with two being soulbound by The Entity, which in effect also ties to them to each other, and a third who is charged by fate with severing the power when the time is right, but there’s only one surviving case where we see that the tie is never really gone; either to each other, or their secret power source even if the power imbued is greatly diminished. This is the only time marks come up, but it’s not a mark that shows their fate, it’s the mark left by the gods that shows they’ve been taken.

This is way too long, but ahhhhh the strings. Strings everywhere it seems.

i can never write a soulmates au cause i very quickly stop thinking about romance and start thinking about the sociological implications of a world where soulmates are a confirmed verifiable thing

[heesimp]

Okay but sex addict heeseung pls pls like he loses his damn mind if he doesn't feel a pussy wrapped around him at least twice a day j gehssjsnsj

I looove the sex addict trope so much like it’s so hot imagining heeseung always wanting to fuck to the point that it’s all he can think about

warnings: mentions of porn (videos + magazines), doggy, use of a pocket pussy, fucking while on a zoom meeting (audio and camera are turned off), unprotected sex, creampie, implied mention of multiple rounds of fucking.

-

Heeseung loves sex.

Sex is so natural for him, the feeling of his cock springing to life makes his heart race because he loves getting himself off and watching himself be covered in his sticky cum. He’s always hard, even when his horniness is simmering underneath the surface.

You’re here to satiate that need with him ever since you moved in next door. One text from Heeseung and you’re coming over no matter the time of day because like him, you worked from home.

He’s supposed to be in a meeting but his cock needs to be wrapped up in something warm and tight. His camera and microphone are muted while he plows into your pussy from behind, one knee on his bed while his other foot is planed beside you to push himself so deep into your hole that you feel him right in your cervix.

“Love this tight pussy,” he moans and grips your ass to push and pull you back into him despite the sound of his manager talking in the background. “I’d fuck you all day if you let me.”

Back when he was younger and first learned how he loved to pleasure himself, he thinks his obsession with sex began when he found porn magazines underneath his brother’s bed just before college. He’s not afraid to admit he stole it out of sheer curiosity and felt his cock harden upon seeing naked tits and wet pussies out on full display for him like that. Heeseung pretended these women were spreading themselves out for him and that alone was enough to make his bedsheets dirty every single time.

College was where he let loose. Heeseung practically bathed himself in sex with the amount of girls he’d meet every single weekend at parties to make friends and get some action. This was the first time he’d been away from home and the unsupervised weeks made for a perfect excuse to get fucked up on the weekends and have sex without abandon. Nobody could tell him what to do and he knows he’s hot enough to get his dick wet at the snap of his fingers.

He’s never met anybody who shares his libido but it doesn’t matter to him much when girls opened up their legs for him. He’s not shy about it at all, eating pussy like he’ll die without it and fucking them like he doesn’t know how to do anything else. Heeseung needs to have sex and he needs to have something wrapped up around him at all times of the day. No exceptions.

His best purchase was a pocket pussy when he first moved into his one bedroom apartment without any roommates. Heeseung was free to masturbate whenever he wanted and didn’t have to time the arrival of a dorm mate with his sex sessions. He no longer needed to touch himself in the quiet of the night and didn’t need to worry about how loud he was moaning since there wasn’t a single person who he needed to worry about.

Heeseung would sit in meetings with his camera off and stroke himself with his toy and he’d fuck it during the nights when no one was free to come over. Netflix had nothing on the loud fry of his voice when he’d plunge his hardened cock into the lives toy and it was never enough to cum just once. He knows the tight silicon toy enables his addiction but he really doesn’t care. His favorite way to use it is when he puts his favorite porn videos on his tv and uses it to get off while he puts the toy in all positions on his couch.

Somehow, meeting you the day you moved in next to him felt like fate. He welcomed you into the neighborhood by giving you four consecutive orgasms and the following week made you realize your neighbor loved to fuck.

He abandoned his regular flings for you, telling himself it was the convenience. You loved the feeling is his dick shoved down your throat or when he was lodged inside of your hole, so much that it didn’t matter what time of day it was, you would always be free for him.

You find yourself on your hands and knees more often, especially at this our on this day of the week. This is when Heeseung has an hour long internal meeting that he isn’t needed for but has to attend anyway. It’s the perfect window to have a quick fuck. Heeseung doesn’t even need to text you because you always come knocking on his door when it starts.

“I’m gonna cum again,” he grunts when he watches your orgasm coat his cock. “Fuck, fuck, yeah. I’m cumming baby.”

He stills his hips when he spurts right into you just as his manager shares his screen for a PowerPoint presentation. Heeseung clenches his ass and pushes the rest of his cum out of you, which bubbles around your opening and seeps right back onto his softening cock.

It’s too good to quit. Heeseung doesn’t think he could ever stop fucking.

***

please reblog if you liked it and feel free to send me scenarios and ideas :)

[chaostudee]

how you get the girl, lando norris.

summary : lando norris reveals in a interview that his celebrity crush is y/n. the majority of the grid teases him over his little crush but little do they know it is mutual. faceclaim : hailee steinfeld warnings : language?? a/n : aaaaagh 2nd win for lando im so happy :) hopefully ferrari can get on the podium in monza. also inspired by how you get the girl by taylor swift.

y/nusername felt cute. might delete later.

liked by zendaya, florencepugh, landonorris and 1,719,910 others.

zendaya 🔥🔥

florencepugh damnnn girl

user01 goddamn

user11528 wowwww

sabrinacarpenter obsessed with u always

username_90 DONT DELETE GIRL PLEASE

user22 how tf is she single?!?!

y/nfan LITERALLY LIKE WHAT

user92 pick me choose me love me

mclaren new video out now !!

liked by landonorris, zakbrown, f1fan and 479,929 others.

user828 OMG LOVE U MCLAREN

user01 they know what we want hehe

f1fan oh yesssss

username982 oh we are so backkkk

user_72 landoscar !!!!!

y/nusername

》 user929 omlll she's so pretty wtfff

》 user00 so gorgeouss ughhh

》 y/nlover i cant wait for future projects hehe

》 y/nusername something coming soon 🤫

》 username_89 yesss y/n active era

f1updates lando norris reveals that his celebrity crush is y/n y/ln !!!

liked by f1fan, f1lover, justaninchident and 129,920 others.

user01 stan oscar for calling him out hehe

f1fan UM WHAT

user472 he's so real for that acc

f1lover Y/N NEEDS TO SEE THIS PLSSS

justaninchident brb changing my name to y/n real quick

user555 so not normal about this

y/nusername SPIDERMAN INTO THE SPIDERVERSE OUT JUNE 2ND !!!!

liked by florencepugh, tomholland2013, zendaya and 1,293,920 others.

florencepugh yayyyy i cant waittt

zendaya eeeek so excited

tomholland2013 won't be better than homecoming.....but i have fate

user829 OMG OMG

user739 Y/N AS GWEN OH YES

username_777 i know where i will be june 2nd

lando.jpg

liked by alexalbon , oscarpiastri, georgerussell and 282,710 others.

alexalbon bros a photographer now

landonorris just a hobby :)

user829 ugh his style lately 😩😩

user119 obsessed with him alwaysss

username_425 bros doing sidequests now

f1fan aagh we need more content like this plsss

f1lover im love his jewellery smmmm

oscarpiastri this week was a good one 😜

liked by landonorris, y/nusername, georgerussell and 618,910 others.

landonorris :)

user289 your honour i love them !!!

user_19 ughhh they are so cuteeee

justanichident pookies

f1fan mclaren podiums are my favs :)

f1lover but carlando podiums 😚

y/nusername premiere in la last night

liked by landonorris, florencepugh, zendaya and 917,291 others.

landonorris stunning

y/nusername tyyyyy

user82 oh this look im obsessedddd

f1fan not lando commenting plss he wants her so baddd

user910 she's so hot omg

florencepugh my bsf is so gorgeee

zendaya you ateee so baddd

jimmyfallon interview with y/n y/n out now !!

liked by landonorris, f1fan, justaninchident and 628,019 others.

user8292 YES THIS IS THE CONTENT WE WANT

user00 okay truthfully i dont like jimmy fallon all that much but he ate with this one u fear

f1fan lando in the likes 🙈

f1lover heheheheheheehhe

username_29 girl was trying to keep it cool but she was blushing so badddd

y/nusername miami gp 🏎🏁 @ mclaren

liked by landonorris, mclaren, oscarpiastri and 828,001 others.

mclaren amazing having you in the garage today !!!

user929 EXCUSE ME WHAT

f1fan convinced lando invited her

user82 oh defo

user728 giggling

username_299 oh she's a menance for this

f1lover wait....are we going to get a lando and y/n pic???

justaninchident whos cares about the gp now I ONLY CARE ABOUT Y/N AND LANDO CONTENT

y/nusername finally met my celeb crush 🤭

》 user899 I LOVE HER FOR THIS

》 f1fan SCREAMING

》 user11 LANDO HAS TO SEE THIS PLS I BEG

》 f1lover i just know that lando is dying rn

》 user0_811 no2 this is why i love y/n

》 georgerussell can confirm that lando did infact scream when he saw this.

landonorris first win feels.

liked by y/nusername, oscarpiastri, charlesleclerc and 2,893,467 others.

y/nusername so happy for you !!!

landonorris thanksssss

oscarpiastri well deserved mate 🫶

georgerussell congrats !!

user929 EEK SO PROUD

user191 wdym we got y/n and landos first win today......best day everrrr !!!

username_19 i sobbed when he crossed the finished line

f1fan he's come so far 😭😭

justaninchident wdymmm lando just got his first win wtfff

user000 im convinced y/n was his lucky charm

username_10 this 🙌🙌

landonorris guess it's not a secret anymore 😏

liked by y/nusername, georgerussell, charlesleclerc and 2,729,920 others.

user72 help the emoji he's so unserious

user11 ughh i love them sm all ready

georgerussell reminder to never doubt you again

charlesleclerc i like to think that i had a part in this

y/nusername <3

username829 awwwww

justaninchident im sobbing acc

f1fan speechless

f1lover829 AS A MARVEL AND F1 FAN IM NOT OKAY

user243 screaming crying throwing up

y/nusername i love u sm baby

landonorris love u more angel

taglist ⭑.ᐟ

@mxryxmfooty

@lottalove4evelyn

@heavy-vettel

@llando4norris

@hadidsworld

[desireangel]

Bad Things | Aemond Targaryen

Summary: Aemond is plagued with doubts and seeks refuge in the one place where he is at peace with himself; between his beloved wife's legs.

Pairing: Aemond x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: MDNI, 18+ only!! this is so in Aemond's thoughts, self doubt, lack of remorse, smut, oral (f receiving), talk of sex, slight breeding kink, Aemond is lost in his head and obsessed with eating his wife out, Aemond may be prince regent of Westeros but he is king of eating pussy, unedited, hmm kinda just porn really - let me know to add anything if need be!

Author's Note: Came home drunk (typos??? potentially. unnecessary droning on??? potentially.) after a couple cocktails and had the urge to erm write. About oral sex specifically, of course. Anywayssss, enjoy (I hope!) - xoxo kisses!!! <3

Masterlist!

Sometimes Aemond let his mind wander to all that could have been and all that could come to be had he only made his decisions differently. He seldom felt regret - never felt as if he would change the things that have led him towards the path of greatness he was on. But what ifs and the memory of failures are as stubborn as a newborn plague and Aemond was just as vulnerable to illness as those whom he revered and those whom he detested. 

It was warm under the light of the setting sun, a kiss on his skin as Aemond rested against the balcony at the window and watched over what he longed to have for himself. If things had been different, at any time and any place, where would he be now?

The thought of living his life without his injury had come to sicken him but it lingered at the back of his mind. Had certain moments taken a different turn, would he still feel the need to drive people to respect him through fear and prove himself worthy at every chance he could find? Aemond swallowed at the thought. And he stood there, looking to the skies as if the clouds could free him from the suffocation of the feelings that had haunted him since the night he lost his eye. 

Feelings of failure, feelings of defeat, feelings of fear and feelings of humiliation. 

Even after meeting you, and understanding that loving you meant different things - things he wasn’t familiar with, things he wasn’t sure he was capable of becoming familiar with - the lingering thought of what if was all consuming.

Aemond could hear you coming seconds before you were beside him. He was thankful you stood by his side, silently and wordlessly as your eyes dragged across his face, analysing what you could of his thoughts from his perfected emotionless expression. Quiet moments like this, where Aemond got lost in his mind grew fewer at each move he made within this war.

But here you both were, silently in each other’s company. Aemond was a passionate lover. But he was also at times a cold and imperfect partner. And some of those times where he retreated into himself, although he had rarely lost control of himself in front of you, left him vexed at your presence.  

Because to Aemond, you were perfect. Frustrating at times but that was often the fault of his own lack of patience and tolerance. You were, at the end of the day, too perfect. He saw your compassion, your empathy, your kindness. And he saw your strength, your wit, your fearsome loyalty.

And here Aemond was, unable to even regret many of the times he acted without any of those perfect things. After the fate that Lucerys had met, Aemond found he could not find it in himself to feel remorse for much else. 

You let your fingers graze along the leather sleeve on his arm, your light touch burning into his skin through the fabric. He closed his eye and kept it closed for minutes of silence that felt like hours before he spoke lowly.

“I have done bad things.”

You sucked in a breath. “Would you be here today if you had not done those things?”

“No, you do not understand me. I cannot bring myself to care for some of the vile things that I have done. That I have caused. I should care, should I not?” 

Releasing a long sigh, you shifted on your feet. Aemond knew that you were different to him. You didn’t agree with many of his actions and decisions but you knew there was nothing you could do except to be there when he needed you. It had taken time to realise you couldn’t change the way he thought, the way he felt, the way he reacted to things - you weren’t sure if you truly, deeply wanted to take on that burden. 

As Aemond grew more honest with you, you had come to realise that when it came down to it he was not a completely good man. But he was good to you and while Aemond saw your strength, you knew you were weak when it came to him. Loyalty and love for your husband burned painfully in your chest no matter his imperfections and you never bothered to try to justify it. 

“Perhaps if I had acted differently, somewhere,” Aemond’s words were rushed, a switch from his normally slow drawl. He would curse himself tomorrow for his moment of weakness but he couldn’t ignore the pit in his stomach. “Then I would not be the way that I am now.”

You stared at him for a moment. His expression was of ice and had you not known him the way that you do, then you would never have noticed the confliction in his eyes. “There is no use-”

“I know there is no use in thinking about what may have been, I know,” Aemond spat. 

“Alright,” you paused. “But you will never know what could have changed. You made your decisions, you were the author of your own fate, Aemond. ‘Tis the way things go - we must face it. What difference would it make if things could have been different? You cannot undo what you have already done.”

Aemond’s jaw ticked and he moved so that his arm hung at your waist. You briefly glanced back inside at the servant who prepared your nightly cup of tea at your bedside. Aemond seldom made a show of your relationship when you weren’t entirely alone. Nevertheless, you didn’t let your mind linger on that fact. 

He gazed down at you, his ocean-strong eye never failing to make your breath hitch and goosebumps to rise on your skin. You were relieved that he seemed to agree with your words. Aemond’s shoulders had lost much of the tension they held and the start of the sweet smile that was shared only with you played on his lips. 

He had to try hard to believe what you had told him. Because here you were, no matter what he did and no matter his lack of conviction, at his side and wrapped around his finger. You were the calming breeze that cooled his heat, you were the shade that gave him relief from the scorching sun and you were the water that flushed the burn from his skin. Aemond was not one to be an emotional man but he knew that he had love for you and your endless, boundless support. And he dreamed of how he would share with you the world that will one day be at his feet. 

“I shall share your bed tonight, my love.” Aemond’s words were as they always have been; smooth with honey but laced with venomous promises. You bit back a smile as he pulled you inside, addicted to whatever venom dripped from his words, from his eye, from him.  “And that shall serve as all the reminder that I need to be sure I have not been so misguided that I have lost my way to no return.” 

When he pressed his nose into the crook of your neck, dragging it along your soft skin, he inhaled deeply. Aemond thought for a moment of how perfect it would be if he could bottle your scent and keep it with him forever. A reminder of the woman for whom he wished he could become a good, honest man. 

Your body felt so familiar to him that it made his mind turn quiet and Aemond could only think of having you closer, closer, closer. And it was never close enough, no matter how hard he squeezed at the flesh of your hips to pull you in, no matter how your breath tickled his skin and  how your eyelashes fluttered against his hair as he dragged his lips over your shoulder and along the side of your neck. 

If there were no roof atop your heads, you would have thought that it rained flames onto the both of you and to relieve the burn of it, you melted into Aemond, pressing yourself further into him and squirming for more as he grabbed at your nightclothes to toss them to the floor. 

You tugged hopelessly at the buckles on his tunic, whining. “Get it off, Aemond.”

Aemond didn’t need to be told a second time because hardly a moment later he was as naked as you were, pushing you until the back of your legs hit the edge of your bed and you fell onto it gently. A strained groan fell from his lips as he let you pull him down with you, holding his face in your hands as he held himself above you with an arm beside your head. You gently removed the leather that covered his glimmering sapphire, sighing contently. 

Admiring Aemond as he was, bare and honest and beautiful had become your favourite way to see him. Without the need to hide any part of himself from you. 

Smirking, he let his lips graze yours softly. It was a stark contrast to the way Aemond’s other hand was roughly grabbing at whatever flesh he could hold, squeezing you and sending shockwaves straight through to your core. 

You could barely get the words out of you. “Kiss me–Gods, kiss me.”

And he did kiss you, his lips desperately clashing against yours with a new kind of vigour. Aemond rarely kissed you with such force, such rage and such raw, unfettered need. But as his teeth knocked against yours, catching your lip in between and drawing blood, he entertained the thought that maybe he did regret something. All of the kisses he never had the chance to give you. 

The air between you was charged with something sharp and electric, a primal energy that clouded your head and had you gasping Aemond’s name at the way he brushed his knuckle against your core. Normally, he would have taken his time with you. But despite the fact that you had the entire night ahead of you, Aemond was rushed and impatient. 

“Always so ready for me,” he murmured, taking in a sharp breath as his fingers rubbed through your slick folds, pulling a soft whine from you. Aemond’s cock twitched at the perfect sound and he ground his hips against the plush of your thigh. He dragged the pads of his fingers teasingly up from the slit of your hole to the hood of your clit, drawing teasing circles so softly you could have been convinced his touch was a figment of your fantasies. 

“Aemond, please-”

He shushed you softly. “Patience, my sweet.”

Aemonds lips, wet on your jaw, travelled down the expanse of your neck and over your collarbones. He nibbled at you, amused at the way you arched and squirmed, replacing his fingers with his cock and sliding it against your clit. When his lips met your nipple he sucked harshly with a flick of his tongue, giving your right breast hardly enough attention before turning to the other. 

It sent shivers down your spine and you were sure Aemond felt you shudder against him when his lips travelled lower, leaving a wet trail down your skin until he was finally just below your naval. Aemond turned his head, his teeth pinching the flesh of your thigh harshly, just above where your thigh curved into your pelvis. You squealed. 

“Hm,” He chuckled darkly, smiling up at you and shaking his head with a deep tsk when your legs instinctively moved to shut. His hands groped at your thighs and pushed them up so that you were folded yet entirely spread in front of him. “I will fuck you with my tongue first. And my fingers. Then I will fuck you with my cock and fill you with my seed, only after I have made you quiver and shake from the pleasure of my mouth on your perfect cunt.”

Aemond’s eye dropped to your sopping cunt and his words coiled in his throat, coming out as a muffled moan. You gasped as he lewdly spat, his head falling downwards in an instant, wave after wave of pleasure stealing the oxygen from your lungs as he sucked on your pussy, tongue weaving across your clit and back down. 

All of the loud doubts that plagued his mind turned into whispers of incoherence the moment his mouth met the velvety skin of your womanhood, Aemond’s favourite place to lose himself when his thoughts became unbearable. The tangy, sweet taste of your arousal pulled a deep growl from his chest and when your hips jerked against his face, he wrapped a strong arm over your hips to hold you in place. 

As Aemond’s tongue dipped into you, his lips latched on the expanse of your cunt, you let out a cry, your hand falling to his hair and pulling hard. Your body was hot with desire, thighs squeezing your husband’s head as he greedily feasted on the most intimate parts of you. He pulled away for one quick second to catch his breath before burying himself in you once again, the obscene smacking sounds of how he relentlessly sucked and lapped at your slit. 

For such vulgar noises, they had become increasingly beautiful. 

“I dream of staying here forever,” Aemond’s words were muffled, difficult to hear over your own whimpers and the movement of his lips on your folds had you bucking to follow his mouth. He hid his grin in your wetness. “I can do no wrong with the taste of you on my tongue.”

The pleasure that Aemond always submerged you was almost becoming overwhelming and you lost the ability to form sentences, muttering and mumbling in response. He could decipher his name, falling for your flushed lips so many times, and his eye flickered up to watch how your body climbed to the highest point of satisfaction where such a sinful act became heavenly. 

You were always beautiful, Aemond thought. But you were at your most beautiful when you came undone for him, lost in the throes of bliss and grasping at him as if you could not live for another second without his touch. He carried you through your orgasm, unrelenting as he greedily devoured every part of your pussy, looking up at you with his darkened eye and shining sapphire, strands of his hair that had come loose sticking to the wetness on his jaw. Aemond relished in the strangled, melodic sounds that you made for him. 

When you jerked away from him with a squeal, so sensitive when the tip of his tongue flicked against your clit that your hips bucked suddenly, Aemond pulled away while chuckling and placing featherlight kisses along your shaking thighs. He watched how your cunt continued to clench around nothing as you came down from your orgasm, the messy mixture of his spit and your arousal glistening under the light from the lamps. 

You let yourself relax into the bedsheets and moved to close your legs, tugging Aemond to meet you for a kiss and giggling when he stopped to quickly wipe your slick from his face. But before your knees could come together, he caught them, settling himself in between and you could feel the steady heat from his hardened cock grazing across the outside of your slit. 

“I think my pretty wife believes she is going to have a restful night,” Aemond teased against your lips, sliding a hand down between your bodies and spreading your folds once again to make way for his fingers. You shuddered against him with a mewl. “You are mistaken, my love, if you believe I will not have you full of my seed by the time I am done making love to you. I am a man of my word, am I not?”

[goldsbitch]

Ah...

In a world where people get born with the first sentence their soulmate shares with them tattooed on their wrist, Y/N and Oscar are probably not the ones with the easiest story to tell.

note: first Oscar fic! this is prep for a longer 1k followers celebration...i'm a little too excited for that one

warning: pure fluff

Not everyone got to meet their soulmate, and that was totally fine. Her parents weren't soulmates and they still managed to have an amazing life. Why waste time waiting around and looking for a guy who's first word he'd ever say to her was suppose to be "Ah."

"Ah."...? What was that about anyway? Stupid wrist tattoo, marking her forever with a word so unimpressive.

During her teenage years, it became an inside joke between her and her best friend. A word to overuse so much it could truly mean anything. Ah.

Her boyfriend was definitely not her soulmate. He was blessed with having a full sentence on his wrist - but in French, a language she did not speak. The hot, dark haired boy was too obsessed with studying physics to take the whole concept of soulmates seriously, so when they met in university, it was a no brainer to follow the path set by hormones rather than fate and date together.

Only after they graduated she realized just how soul-crushing it was to spend time with him. When the social circles broke down and they were left alone, it was more than clear they were not a good match. But it's hard to see the tornado when you're standing inside of it.

The vacation was suppose save the relationship. Instead, their fights were laced with her running away and him having his eyes wonder around any girl walking by.

Only two more days, she said as she walked hastily around a garden adjacent to the villa they were staying at, once again. It was like a dance - they'd fight, she'd run away, he'd search for her and they'd go back to their room for a night of silence. On repeat for the whole vacation organized by the devil himself. The plan was to turn her life upside down once she arrived back home. Start fresh. At that moment, she had no idea just how fresh that would be.

She stood in the middle of a pathway leading to dimly lit swimming pool, tired and impatient. By this time her boyfriend would usually be on his way to get her back.

Finally, grass cracking sound that followed any footstep in this garden. She closed her eyes, unable to do this dance anymore.

"I want to break up," she whispered and turned around.

Oscar did not plan on speaking with this woman standing in the middle of the way back to his hotel room. He was just coming back from his late evening swim session.

When she uttered those words, it was like each of the syllable burned on his skin. Hundred questions answered and thousand new on the table.

Absolutely baffled, yet in his typical stoic style of keeping it together on the outside, while exploding internally, he couldn't bring himself to a more than..."Ah."

//

Oscar fully believed in the concept of soulmates and had no doubt that he would meet his, that's why he refrained from dating anyone who did not have the specific, very strange, words on their wrist.

"I want to break up"...? Why would this be the first thing you ever say to someone?

Over the time, he figured it would just be him overhearing the words. Or that he was one of the lucky ones, having a soulmate who has a special catch phrase they use when introducing to anyone new. He imagined his soulmate to be clever and cunning. And like the dreamer he was, he already had several versions of their meet up in his head, usually followed by their whole life together playing out. Oh, what a bliss when the moment would finally come.

But when it came, it took him totally of guard. Somehow, in all the scenarios he thought about his whole life, he missed probably the most realistic one. He was only trying to get back to his room and this girl was standing in the middle of the only clear pathway, as if it was nothing. She spoke with her back turned to him.

"I want to break up."

And when she turned around, after mistaking him for someone else, he saw a beautiful face, all puffy with smudged make up. And obviously in a really bad mood. He was, as they say, too stunned to speak.

"Ah." He said bluntly, too quickly for him to even notice it, processing the fact he just heard that one specific sentence, the one that should define the rest of his life.

She stared at him, as if he just offended her entire family. "What?!"

He felt..nothing. She couldn't be his soulmate. No way. Most likely because he had his response to "I want to break up" rehearsed his whole life. It was supposed to be "Worry not, now I am here." A lovely sentence to walk around with, right? He wanted his soulmate to wear the tattoo proudly, not with - what was it he even said? Did he even say something? He didn't, did he?

"Worry not, now I am here," he tried, feeling like he had nothing to loose. The words came out clumsily, as if they tripped over one another.

He was sure her face was already the most confused one could make, but she proved him wrong, quickly.

"Sorry, I'll leave you to it. This was obviously a misunderstanding," he said, trying to be polite and took few steps ahead to get going. She reacted and stepped right into his way.

This surely couldn't be it. But, emotions were running high, she thought she was addressing her boyfriend and was somehow trying to comprehend the fact she nearly broke up with him. And then she hears an "Ah." "What did you say?" she shot at him, no filter whatsoever, watching him with fascination and some flavor of anger.

Oscar was beginning to regret ever engaging in this conversation. "Worry not, now I am here...There, now, is that tattooed on your wrist? I imagine not, so, apologies and I'll leave you to whatever you're doing," he said, without giving her much space to respond. He felt slightly guilty about leaving an obviously distressed woman alone there, but his social awkwardness won this round and he just wanted this to be over.

"No, you didn't," she said, not intent on moving anywhere. Determined look replaced her sorrow.

"I'm pretty sure I did."

"And I am sure you didn't," she said, raising her wrist all the way to his eyeline. "You said this, didn't you?!"

It was not a tone of playful or even hopeful realization. Her delivery was spiced with unresolved anger that grew inside. He squeezed his eyes, having hard time seeing the small letters in the light of the nearing night. "What's that?"

She put her hand down, having a really hard time believing this was actually happening. It took him by surprise the speed with which she reached for his own hand, but his racer reflexes kicked in and he managed to avoid her.

Annoyed sigh left her mouth. "Will you show me your hand? I've already had a pretty shit day without you making obstructions."

He looked deeply in her eyes. This was a lot of emotion battling each others, little too much for Oscar.

"I'm pretty sure we're not soulmates," he said dryly.

"Tell me what's on your hand and I'll let you fuck off from when you came from."

"I'd actually like to go the other way-"

"Show me your hand!"

Visibly taken back, almost offended by her shouting, he reveled his wrist.

Time stopped for Y/N for few seconds. She was staring at the words she uttered just a minute ago. Decided to take a deep breath before she looked in his eyes once again. "Sorry for...screaming. We're almost definitely soulmates...You said "Ah." It felt good to finally know what kind of tone this sound was spoken with. End to the endless possibilities.

The irony of the fact that Oscar had a hard time remembering if he had actually said something so stupid dwelled on him. Did he? Knowing himself, he probably did.

"Ah," he repeated with a much heavier, slightly bitter, undertone.

"Yeah."

They just stood there, staring at each other. Was this suppose to be it? The moment he longed for and the one she already mourned? Just now she noticed that he was a gorgeous guy. Heavenly actually. Such a kind smile. Innocent look with a hint of spice. But she believed in love, not necessarily soulmates. Even if she did, this was the worst moment to do this. Little, almost invisible, tears started rolling from her eyes.

"Can I take a photo of you?" she asked, with defeated smile, wanting to walk away with a tangible evidence for her lonely evenings in the future.

Oscar was still processing. "Sure," he replied to a sentence he heard thousand times each month. Very automatically his body moved for a classic hug with a fan - which she rejected and just snapped a photo of his face.

"Nice to meet you. But I have my shit to deal with. I'm not good for you anyway," she said and sprinted back to he hotel room, to her current boyfriend and a deadend life. He just stood there, unable to comprehend. When he finally did, she was gone.

//

"Mr. Piastri, you understand that I can't just give you a room number to someone who you don't even know by name," the receptionist said, not backing down to his urgency.

"But she is my soulmate! She just passed by, surely you would know which one of the guests she is," he said, both hand on the counter, towering the poor reception lady.

"I'm going to have to ask you to stop this request or we might be forced to cancel your stay and remove you from the premise."

He rolled his fingers into his first, mad at himself the most out of all the people. "Yeah. Great. Understood."

//

Y/N didn't sleep for a minute that night. When she returned back without a word, her boyfriend didn't even look up. She didn't really care.

"Let's just get through these few days," he said and she just nodded.

Mind racing around new set of eyes she memorized from the photo she had, not having a clue that he in fact was a racer.

//

Breakfast. Oscar's chance to take destiny into his own hands. He was the first one to arrive and planned on being the last one to leave. And should she miss her breakfast, he'd move into the lobby. Determined to talk to her at least one more time. Sat there, drinking his juice and bouncing his leg up to the point it annoyed even him.

//

He'd probably be at the breakfast, she realized as her sleep deprived body walked towards the elevator. A stolen glance at her partner. They hadn't said a word to each other the whole morning. To think she once thought one of them would bury the other after a nice full-filled life. Coffee and croissant was her only hope now. And of course the guy from yesterday was there. Sitting at a table, alone, very obviously finished with his breakfast. Arms crossed and eyeing all the entrances. She couldn't help but smile and light up when she saw him. He sat there. Waiting. Was there even a possibility he'd be waiting for her? Like a soulless ghost, she followed her current partner and sat down to the table he picked.

Oscar was a secret over-thinker. He spent every minute going through every possibility of what could happen. So of course he was ready, in theory, for her entering with another guy or a girl. However, the whole nature of her first sentence to him was about breaking up. And you don't say that in a healthy relationship.

It was now or never for him. He watched the pair grab a seat few tables away from him. God, she was gorgeous. Seeing her walk in, summer dress proving the internet was right once again, made him weak in his knees and unable to look away. She paused upon noticing him, eyes shyly flashing back and forth, absolutely no plan or idea what to do. Awkwardly put her things down the at the table, fumbled around aimlessly and proceeded to walk over the breakfast bar. As she walked, she could almost feel his eyes piercing through her back. For some reason, it felt as if he knew something she didn't. she had to actively convince herself to act normal, as if this was her first time having breakfast at a hotel. Copy others. Oscar did indeed stare at her as if there was no tomorrow. Eyes glued to her back, cosplaying as the worst private detective this planet ever produced. He found himself getting up and approaching the bar she was standing by, the guy she came in long gone from her close proximity.

Oscar gulped before speaking, standing right beside her, pretending to be interested in a stack of apples. Her eyes flashed to her left, but she already knew who was standing next to her. It was as if she could hear his energy, something divine, intoxicating and most importantly - inevitable.

"Morning....I hope you've had better night than when you left yesterday," he opened with, desperately trying to break the ice. He was absolutely hopeless with small talk. His tone created a small smile on her face. This sort strange and unique tonality, which was exceptionally hard to decipher, mixed with his Australian accent. Again, so many questions popping up in her head - her body wanted her to find out everything about this guy.

"I'm not sure that's the case. But thank you for asking I guess," she said and leaned over his hand to reach for a fresh peach. It was not her conscious decision to brush his hand, but it definitely could have been avoided. Neither party mattered. Two shy smiles were created at that moment.

"Would you mind sharing your name with me?" he asked, as she glanced over to his wrist, to look at his tattoo once again.

She answered, slightly hesitantly. "Y/N."

"Uuh,"

"Are interjections the only language you speak?" she whispered, still not over the whole "Ah." thing and finally stopped pretending to be interested in the breakfast bar. She did the best she could to meet his eye while not turning around and becoming too obvious.

Oscar was having trouble processing his body's reaction to this girl being so close now. "No, but I am happy you seem interested to know that."

It was impossible to fight of the smile. "I'm not, you're the reason I'm walking with this my whole life," she said, lifting her wrist once again.

He fiddled with some apples, trying to keep his hands busy. "I'd like to object that in this pair I'm the one who lost"

"Don't say the word pair," she said in a tone so unserious even she couldn't pretend to believe it.

"Why, does that idea make you nervous?" he clicked his tongue, feeling more confident with every second she stayed there with him.

"I have a boyfriend," she stated, lying to herself anyway.

He smirked. "Apologies, must have misread my own hand."

"I can't break up with someone on a holiday," she responded, reaching for straws, not even knowing why. She took two steps to the coffee line and to no surprise, he followed.

"You didnt seem to think as such yesterday," he said in more serious tone. "Look, I don't know you-"

"No, you don't," she jumped in before he continued.

"-But...let me present my hypotheses, so that we can test the whole soulmate thing. Does that not make you at least a bit excited?" he said, trying to hide his own excitement, which was something he did not have to do often, so he was not really good at it.

She found his confidence mixed with clumsiness so intoxicating. "It's overrated," she argued, perhaps trying to see how much he's willing to defend it.

"I'm so much looking forward to proving that theory wrong." There is was. The point of no return.

"Well before you do," she bit her smile, accidentally leaving a pause for him to fill.

"Ah, so you believe that I will," he said sith his signature "I won" smile.

"Again, with the interjections, you gotta unlearn that," she said, happy he couldn't see directly into her face, as she felt the blush spreading.

"Teach me."

"Stop it...." she froze, searching in memory a moment when he'd introduce himself.

"Oscar."

She finally paused and dared to look at him, or more specifically stopped resisting her wondering eyes. Her mind rushed through all the Oscar's she had the pleasure to meet and absolutely none of them did justice to the name. His kind eyes, while somewhat giving shy guy vibes, pierced through her fearlessly. So sure of himself, et somehow humble. An impossible enigma she could see herself deciphering for the rest of her life.

"Nice name," she said, in a completely new tone, one he hadn't heard yet. Calm, kind and intrigued.

"Thank you." They stared at each other for few more moment, utterly inappropriately for two strangers in a coffee line. Taking in the little intricacies about the other, as if memorizing for a test.

"You said you had a hypotheses?" she broke silence, not quite sure they were at the same planet as their surroundings anymore. All around them sort of blended together into an unclear, totally unimportant mush.

"I do. Hope I don't overstep."

"I think that does not matter now," she said, walls crumbling down one by one.

"Good. I think you don't want to break up with your current boyfriend now that you'd met me," he said boldly.

"Astonishingly obnoxious," she teased, unable to believe he caught her.

"Fair. But, yesterday you wanted to. Now, it serves like a perfect excuse why run away from this," he said and stepped just a little bit closer to her.

"I don't want to be a slave of some destiny bullshit," she said, while absolutely agreeing with destiny this time.

There was no way back for Oscar. Looking into her eyes was making him drown in lands never explored before. "Yes, but why reject it before we even get the chance to discover if we like each other."

"I don't even know you."

"Your parents didn't know each other at one point," he said matter-o-factly.

The reality was creeping into her mind. "I hardly know anything about you! Like where you live, what you do..."

He was not letting her go. "All over the globe, I am a racing driver. You?"

How come it seemed so easy and obvious for him? "Oscar, I'm..I'm scared." Intimidated was the word she wanted to use, but it felt a little bit too much.

"Of what?"

"I dunno...? Of this working out?"

"Do you realize that sounds quite ridiculous."

"...Yes".

"Well, I believe this is going to be great fun. Listen, it's not socially acceptable for me to bother you for longer. But I desperately hope this is not the last conversation we share," he lowered his voice, parting ways with her being the last thing he actually wanted to do, but his intuition told him, that he had to give her some space to come forward to his, her decision.

Y/N's head was a mess, truth slipping through, passing all the filters that seemed to have stopped working. "I am afraid it's not."

He smiled. "Good. Now, I'll leave you to your life - do whichever you think is right. But please give me your number."

"No, you give me yours so that I can call you when i want to. You know, boundaries," she ordered, trying to keep some control in her hands.

He trusted his gut. "Fair."

//

"Lady, I can't tell you where's Oscar's room." It was a different receptionist that Oscar had dealt with, but probably with the same training.

"But it's a suprise! Look, I have his number an everything."

"Why don't you call him?"

"You're familiar with the concept of a surprise?"

//

Unlike Oscar, she managed to convince the reception into giving her Oscar's room number. It was all the way up at the last floor. Fancy, she thought. It's impossible to convey the energy and adrenaline cocktail that Y/N was on when she was on the way to knock on his room and announce that she actually went though with the break up and the guy was on his way home, cutting the vacation early. It was unhinged, reckless, addictive. She had to stop herself several times, as the excitement mixed with fear was making her put on faces very strange to anyone who should pass by. If music was on, she'd dance for hours. Hell, she had no idea what was suppose to happen now. And that had never felt so exhilarating before.

With one last breath before her life changed for good, she knocked on the door.

After the longest few seconds ever experienced on this planet, he finally opened the door.

She physically couldn't hold it anymore. "I broke up with him," she blurted out the moment their eyes met.

Oscar tried to take in the image of his soulmate, standing there in front of him, flustered and ready to take the leap with him, once again, having trouble holding his smile in.

"Ah."

[xo100]

i’ve been thinking about this for so longgg

okay so basically a fic where lando and you met at a grand prix while you were doing a tour of the paddock you accidentally meet and start talking and lando asks for your number, you and your whole family have always been huge f1 fans and so you hide it from them when you start dating him but eventually bring him to meet them and it’s a big surprise and everyone is so shocked that lando is your boyfriend

Under the radar - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1384

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

You were on a tour of the paddock, weaving through the bustle of teams prepping for race day, while you tried not to be overwhelmed by the atmosphere. Your family had always been Formula 1 fanatics, and being here was a dream come true. You were taking it all in—savoring every moment of walking through the garages and team areas that you'd only ever seen on TV.

Your family had been buzzing with excitement when you told them you won tickets for the paddock tour at the Grand Prix. They were envious, of course, but you had promised to snap plenty of pictures for them. None of them could imagine the turn your day would take.

As you followed the group through the McLaren garage, something—or rather, someone—caught your eye. Out of the corner of your vision, you saw a figure rushing toward you. You stepped to the side instinctively, trying to avoid a collision, but your foot snagged on something, and before you could blink, you were falling backward.

Except, you didn’t hit the ground.

A pair of strong hands caught your shoulders, and you gasped, steadying yourself as you regained your balance. When you looked up, your eyes met warm brown ones, sparkling with amusement and a hint of concern. Lando Norris.

“Are you okay?” he asked, a grin slowly tugging at his lips.

For a second, your brain went blank. Was this actually happening? Was Lando Norris—McLaren's star driver, F1 wonderkid, and easily one of the funniest guys on the grid—really holding onto you?

“I—yeah, sorry!” you blurted, trying to compose yourself, though your heart was beating too fast. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“No worries, happens to the best of us,” he chuckled, still holding onto your arms. “But I have to say, it’s not every day someone literally falls for me.”

You blinked at him, then laughed, the tension breaking. “Does that line work often?”

“More than you'd think.” He winked, releasing his hold on you, though he seemed reluctant to do so.

The tour group was already moving on, but you hesitated, still standing in front of Lando, unsure of what to say or do next.

He tilted his head slightly, noticing your uncertainty. “Are you with the group?”

“Yeah, but…” You waved a hand dismissively. “It’s fine. They won’t miss me.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your response. “Hmm, playing hooky already?”

You shrugged, biting back a smile. “Maybe.”

“Well, if you’re gonna skip out, you might as well do it properly. Come on,” he said, jerking his head toward the pit wall. “Let me show you around.”

You blinked. “Really?”

“Why not? You already tripped into me—seems like fate, doesn’t it?” His grin was contagious, and despite the voice in your head screaming that this was all surreal, you found yourself walking beside him as he led you past the rows of McLaren engineers, their heads down in concentration, and into areas the tour definitely wasn’t going to cover.

-

The rest of the tour passed in a blur—Lando showed you parts of the garage up close, pointing out the intricacies of the car, telling you little jokes about his teammates, and talking about life on the circuit. It felt strangely…normal. The kind of normal where you could forget he was a famous Formula 1 driver and just see him as the charming, cheeky guy he was.

By the time you both circled back around to the paddock entrance, you’d learned that he loved golf, he was obsessed with video games, and he had a dry sense of humor that had you laughing far too easily.

You didn’t want the conversation to end, but you knew it had to eventually. “Thanks for, um, the tour,” you said, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

“No problem. You should come back, you know.” He paused, glancing over his shoulder toward his team, who were undoubtedly waiting for him to rejoin them. Then he turned back to you with that grin that made your stomach flip. “Give me your number.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What?”

He chuckled softly, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. “Your number. So we can keep in touch.”

You blinked, processing what he was asking. Lando Norris wants your number? This was a conversation you were definitely not ready for. But despite the swarm of butterflies in your chest, you handed over your phone.

As you typed in your number, you couldn’t help but wonder how you were going to explain this to your family. Oh, nothing major, just met Lando Norris today…

-

You didn’t tell anyone. Not at first, at least.

After that day, Lando had texted you the very next evening, something casual about how he hoped you hadn’t tripped over anything else after you left. You laughed out loud, and your reply had been easy, comfortable. Before you knew it, the two of you were talking almost daily—texts that quickly evolved into phone calls and, eventually, meeting up at a few more races.

By the time you realized what was happening, you and Lando were dating. Quietly, but officially.

Your family had no idea.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell them—it was just…complicated. Your parents, your siblings—everyone in your family was obsessed with Formula 1. They knew every driver, every stat, every bit of news before it even hit the headlines. The idea of telling them you were dating an F1 driver—their favorite driver—felt impossible. You could already picture their reactions. The shouting, the questions, the disbelief.

So you kept it to yourself. For now, at least.

-

Months passed, and things with Lando grew deeper, more serious. He wasn’t just the famous driver anymore—he was Lando, the guy who made you laugh when you were stressed, who sent you goofy selfies from the hotel on race weekends, and who listened when you vented about your day. He was sweet, thoughtful, and maybe a little too good to be true.

Eventually, the time came when hiding him from your family wasn’t an option anymore. You had to tell them.

-

“I have a surprise for you guys,” you said nervously, standing in your living room with Lando by your side. You hadn’t told them yet—hadn’t explained who your ‘guest’ was.

Your mom and dad were sitting on the couch, your siblings sprawled around the living room, all eyes on you.

“What kind of surprise?” your sister asked suspiciously, glancing at Lando with a raised brow. He was wearing a baseball cap, pulled low enough that it wasn’t obvious who he was, but it wasn’t going to take long for them to figure it out.

You swallowed hard, glancing at Lando, who gave you a reassuring smile. He reached for your hand, squeezing it gently before stepping forward, taking off his cap and revealing his face.

For a split second, there was silence.

Then your dad nearly choked on his drink. “L-Lando Norris?” he stammered, eyes wide. Your siblings were frozen, mouths hanging open as they stared at him in disbelief.

“Surprise!” you said, giving them a nervous smile.

Lando, ever the charmer, grinned and waved. “Hi, nice to meet you all.”

Your family erupted into chaos. Your mom jumped up, asking a million questions at once, while your siblings started shouting over each other, and your dad was still trying to process what was happening.

“I can’t believe it,” your brother said, eyes wide as he stared at Lando. “Are you really dating my sister?”

Lando chuckled, sliding his arm around your waist. “Yep. Guess you’re stuck with me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, relief flooding through you as you realized everything was going to be okay. Your family was shocked, yes—but in the best way possible.

And as you stood there, watching Lando joke with your siblings, you realized something else.

You weren’t just dating an F1 driver. You were dating Lando, and somehow, that was even better.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! Also hey anon! If you read this, I hope that this is what you had in mind!

[lovetwist]

Veil of Deception (I)

SYNOPSIS: In a world where political alliances are forged in blood and treachery lurks around every corner, you find yourself thrust into marriage with Feyd-Rautha, the enigmatic scion of House Harkonnen. Born to be his perfect mate, you grapple with the terrifying prospect of becoming entangled with a man known for his brutality, obsession, and madness. As your union unfolds, you navigate a landscape of deception and dark desires, struggling to find your footing in a marriage fraught with danger and uncertainty. Caught between duty and defiance, summon your strength and resilience to survive in a world where loyalty is a luxury and love is a dangerous game.

WARNINGS (R18+): mildly dub-con, smut, first time, weapons kink, mentions of violence, manipulations, genetic breeding, power play

Word Count: 3.5k

PART 2

Below the towering spires of obsidian and steel, against a backdrop of opulent extravagance that flaunted wealth and power, a tension hung heavy, pregnant with the promise of destiny.

As Lady Atreides, sole daughter of Leto Atreides, you stood poised on the precipice of a meeting that would shape the course of your future. Your heart seized with nerves as you awaited the arrival of your betrothed.

Since your 15th name day, you had known of your engagement to the na-Baron. It was an inescapable fate predetermined by the Bene Geserrit. Your mother, Lady Jessica, had gone against them by giving birth to Paul, a male heir for Leto. Two years later, she gave birth to you – a gift of compromise for both sides. In return, Lady Jessica and Leto achieved the familial harmony they wanted, through the sacrifice of their daughter.

Every year, the Harkonnens requested your portrait to be sent along with a lock of hair. In exchange, they sent House Atreides jewels, gold, silks, and spice; disguised bribes for the upkeep of such a fine lady. They had only sent a portrait of Feyd-Rautha once. It was taken during his coming-of-age ceremony, a lean young man dressed in black fighting leathers. You stared often at the picture, looking to find some clue that could reveal his character. His demeanor was unnaturally cold and collected, yet his dark eyes barely concealed a burning rage. You wondered if Feyd-Rautha poured over you pictures as you did his.

Years passed and the engagement felt more like a false formality than reality. Unlike other noble families, you never exchanged letters with Feyd-Rautha or even met as a courtesy. Having completed your Bene Geserrit training under your mother, you learned that such things did not matter when it came to pairings arranged by the Reverand Mother. You caught whispers of conversation between your mother and her Bene Geserrit sisters. There would be no chance of failure, this union would be perfect. You were genetically engineered to be his absolute mate. Attraction and physical compatibility was assured. Everything about you was designed to lure him in – your scent, your voice, your everything was to be his undoing from the moment he would lay eyes on you.

Yet the thought gave you no confidence as you stood here now in Giedi Prime. Sexual attraction differed greatly from love, he didn’t need emotions to breed you. Feyd-Rautha, the enigmatic scion of House Harkonnen, was a man followed by countless stories of brutality and wickedness. You heard that he laughed when Reverand Mother subjected him to the Gom Jabbar. He didn’t endure pain, he reveled in it.

Your palms grew clammy, breath becoming increasingly shallow as you pondered the dark fate that awaited you in the form of this formidable man. Would Feyd-Rautha be the embodiment of all the whispered sin that had reached your ears, or would he prove to be an enigma beyond your wildest imaginings? With each passing moment, the anticipation mounted, weaving a delicate web of uncertainty around your heart as your braced yourself to meet the man who held your destiny in his hands.

The grand doors of the chamber swung open with a regal flourish, your heart quickened its pace, echoing the rhythm of anticipation that thrummed through the air. Through the gray haze of incense, you beheld Feyd-Rautha, a vision of masculinity and charisma, whose presence seemed to command the very essence of the room. His eyes met yours across the expanse of the chamber, a charged moment filled with unspoken tension, as if the universe itself held its breath in anticipation of this meeting.

You were ensnared in a tempest of conflicting emotions, thoughts swirling like sand caught in a desert storm. You questioned your own composure, wondering if you could maintain the facade of confidence expected of a lady of House Atreides in the presence of the young Harkonnen and the terrifying Baron. Feyd-Rautha may be your future husband, but he was not required to provide you a good nor happy life. After all, why would he? You were the daughter of his family’s sworn enemy. He may have been bound in marriage to you by centuries of bloodline manipulation, but he maintained a free will.

Would his words falter, betraying the tumult and hatred raging within him? Or would he summon the grace and poise befitting his station, masking the turmoil that churned beneath the surface? Your apprehension mounted, a symphony of doubt and fear playing out in the recesses of your mind. Yet, amidst the chaos of your thoughts, a glimmer of determination flickered like a distant star on the horizon, urging you forward into the unknown with a quiet resolve born of necessity.

For in the labyrinthine dance of politics and power that defined their world, you knew that you could ill afford to falter now. With a steadying breath, you squared your shoulders and prepared to face your destiny, whatever form it may take in the guise of a madman husband.

Feyd-Rautha, with an air of effortless confidence, strode forward, his gaze a smoldering ember that ignited a spark within your soul. In that fleeting moment, as your paths converged amidst the darkness and mist of the surroundings, you felt a surge of something unfamiliar yet undeniable—an electric current that crackled between your bodies, binding your fates together inextricably.

Words eluded you as you struggled to articulate the wave of emotions that threatened to consume you. Yet, in the silence that stretched between you two, you found solace in the understanding that this meeting was but the first step on a journey fraught with uncertainty and possibility. He bowed without taking his eyes off you. In greeting, you extended a gloved hand, Feyd-Rautha grasped it with a firm sense of resolve. You knew that your lives were now intertwined in ways neither could fully comprehend nor stop.

And in that moment, amidst the hazy dream of your shared future, you glimpsed the faintest flicker of something akin to desire dance across his eyes. You noticed a dilation of his pupils as he laid a kiss on the back of your hand. Then, his grasp of you tightened and tightened. Your face contorted in pain as a crooked smirk appeared on his features.

In the dim light of the chamber, your eyes traced the contours of his cheekbones and the fullness of his lips, searching for traces of the young man you once memorized in a portrait. Yet, try as you might, only a beast stood before you in the guise of a gentleman. When he stood at his full height with his darkened leer, you held yourself back from cowering. His gaze was vicious, his smile vulgar with blackened teeth, and he exuded an air of savagery.

“How delightful it is to finally meet you, Lady Atreides.”

His deep, raspy voice caught you off guard. What a performer he could be! Long gone was the ethereal allure he displayed when first entering the room, now you could see him for what he was.

“Likewise, my Lord Feyd-Rautha.”

Uncertainty lingered like a specter in the room, casting a pall over the impending union that would bind you with him. You let your gaze lower onto the floor as your parents approached to talk with the Baron and na-Baron.

You could feel his intense gaze burning through your body even as you moved away to be with your brother. Could his eyes pierce through your facade, unraveling the intricacies of your soul like fine thread? Such questions gnawed at the edges of your consciousness, casting shadows on your will to remain strong.

As the evening progressed, the tension in the air thickened like a fog, suffocating any semblance of ease. Seated at the long banquet table surrounded by your family, the Harkonnens, and noble guests, you found yourself ensnared in a delicate dance of propriety and peril.

Across from you, Feyd-Rautha lounged in his seat, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he watched you with unabashed fascination. His demeanor was that of a predator toying with its prey, his every movement calculated to instill a sense of discomfort. Your family would leave to Arrakis after the wedding festivities, then you would be truly left alone with him. The precariousness of your position tugged at your heart.

As the meal commenced, the atmosphere grew increasingly tense, punctuated by the clinking of silverware and the strained chatter of polite conversation. You forced yourself to engage in small talk with those seated around you, your words measured and careful, lest you betray the fear that coiled like a serpent in the pit of your stomach.

Despite your best efforts to maintain a facade of composure, you couldn't shake the feeling of being scrutinized by those dark, probing eyes. It was as if Feyd-Rautha could see straight through you, peeling away the layers of pretense to expose your most secret vulnerabilities. You found yourself growing increasingly unsettled. You longed to escape, to retreat to the safety of your chambers and away from the suffocating presence of the Harkonnen heir.

But you knew that there would be no reprieve, no sanctuary from the darkness that had descended upon your life like a shadow. For tonight, and every night thereafter, you were bound to him by the cruel machinations of fate, condemned to walk a path fraught with danger and uncertainty. And as you raised your glass to Feyd-Rautha’s toast to your impending union, you couldn't help but wonder what horrors awaited you.

“To the most beautiful bride in the world, I will certainly savor tomorrow’s…memories.”

The men at the table chuckled darkly while your father’s and brother’s jaws clenched. You lay your delicate hand over theirs, do not mourn me. If I am to die, I shall do so with honor.

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

As your mother lowered your veil, you noticed tears forming in her eyes. You never thought you’d live to see the day the impenetrable Lady Jessica shed tears for you. I must really be walking into my death, you thought.

You looked at your reflection in the mirror. There were no words to describe the vision you saw. Crafted from the finest silk and satin, your wedding gown exuded an air of majestic elegance with flowing skirts cascading like waves of moonlight around your figure.

The bodice, adorned with intricate beadwork and delicate lace, hugged your curves with a tailored precision, accentuating a slender waist and graceful neckline. A row of tiny diamonds trailed down your body, gleaming against the smooth expanse of your back. While the front of the dress was conservative, your back was tastefully exposed through a combination of sheer silk, diamonds and pearls.

Your hair was pinned neatly into a bun with a delicate braid on each side. The veil was gauzy, making your face seem like a daydream. The ivory fabric of your dress pooled at your feet in a sea of frothy tulle and satin, forming a train that trailed behind you like a regal cloak. The wedding dress was embroidered with delicate motifs of growing vines, mountains and ocean waves – a reminder of Caladan.

At your collar, a border of intricate lacework added a touch of timeless elegance, its patterns catching the light in a dazzling display of shimmering beauty. With every movement, the gown seemed to whisper tales of romance and splendor, a clear hope to the love and devotion the seamstress had prayed you’d find. You choked down a sob.

You’ve made me an angel for him to ruin.

The wedding hall was adorned with such grandeur, you’d expect the emperor’s daughter was getting married instead. The flickering silver torches cast dancing shadows upon the ebony stone walls. As guests gathered in hushed reverence, the air crackled with anticipation, as if the very walls themselves whispered of your impeding damnation.

At the front of the hall, beneath a canopy of arched black silk, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen stood, an imposing figure in his ceremonial garb. His porcelain skin was stark against the darkness of his clothes as he awaited his bride.

You approached with measured steps, hardening your grip on your father’s arm. Your eyes must’ve betrayed your fear and resignation because you could see Feyd-Rautha biting the inside of his cheek to suppress a laugh.

As you reached the altar, his lips curled into a predatory smile, his voice dripping with malice as he spoke the vows that bound you together in unholy matrimony. The words echoed through the hall like a curse, sealing your fate alongside his.

As you exchanged rings, a union forged in the fires of despair, you vowed that though your body may be bound to Feyd-Rautha, your spirit would remain forever free.

Standing before him, you felt the weight of his gaze like chains around your soul.

With a solemn nod from the officiant, you and Feyd-Rautha were instructed to seal your union with a kiss. He removed your veil, his eyes lingering on your face. As his lips met yours, a shiver ran down your spine.

The kiss was surprisingly gentle, but devoid of love. You gasped when his tongue entered your mouth. It was a macabre dance of dominance and submission, a twisted mockery of affection that left a bitter taste upon your lips. You try to push him away, but he holds your hands firm against his chest. The Harkonnens roar with applause and laughter. As you pulled away, a sense of profound emptiness washed over you, a hollow echo of the dreams and desires that had once burned within your heart.

The rest of the wedding banquet was a blur. As you were led to the high table by Feyd-Rautha's side, you couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped, ensnared in a web of malevolence. The guests, mostly Harkonnen allies, noble families, and sycophants, feigned smiles and exchanged whispers, their eyes gleaming with a perverse curiosity at the spectacle of your union.

The feast itself was a decadent display of excess, with platters of exotic delicacies and goblets overflowing with rich wines. But the opulence only served to accentuate the suffocating atmosphere, as the room was closing in on you with each additional piece of ornate furniture.

Feyd-Rautha, ever the consummate host, played his part with calculated charm, his laughter ringing hollow in your ears as he regaled the guests with tales of conquest and murder. You watched him from across the table, his features twisted in a mask of false benevolence, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of revulsion mingled with a sliver of pity. He, too, was playing a part – ever the performer. 

Throughout the banquet, you were subjected to the leering gazes and whispered innuendos of the Harkonnen cronies, their crude remarks slicing through the thin veneer of civility like daggers. But you held your composure, steeling yourself against their taunts and jeers, refusing to let them see the cracks in your mask.

As the night wore on and the wine flowed freely, the mood grew increasingly raucous, the revelry descending into a frenzied ecstasy. You found yourself adrift in a sea of faces, each one a grotesque caricature of humanity, their laughter and applause a cruel mockery of your predicament.

And amidst the chaos and debauchery, you couldn't help but wonder what was in store for you, chained to a man whose heart was as black as midnight. As you absentmindedly finished your last sip of wine, Feyd-Rautha stood suddenly, his chair loudly rattling against the granite floors. A chilling silence descended upon the hall.

He extended a hand towards you and you immediately understood his intentions. You departed the hall, hand-in-hand as men watched with envy and women stared with pity. You couldn’t bear to look at the faces of your family, afraid that you might beg them to take you home.

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

As you left the banquet hall with Feyd-Rautha, a heavy sense of foreboding settled over you. The echoes of the evening's macabre festivities lingered in your mind, each laughter, each lewd jest, a reminder of the gilded cage in which you now found yourself imprisoned.

You walked beside Feyd-Rautha, his grip firm upon your hand, guiding you through the labyrinthine corridors of the Harkonnen estate. There was an eerie stillness in the air. With each step, you felt the weight of your predicament pressing down upon you, the reality of your situation sinking in like a cold, unyielding truth.

You stole a glance at Feyd-Rautha, his expression unreadable in the dim light. Occasionally fireworks would alight by the window, allowing you to see his eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger that made you look away immediately.

As you walked in silence, your mind raced with a flurry of thoughts and emotions, a storm raging within you. You couldn't help but wonder what awaited in the bedchamber. You weren’t ignorant to the act of consummating a marriage, but your husband was no ordinary man. What horrors lay in store for a woman bound to a man as cruel and cunning as Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen… what would satisfy a man like him? But amidst the fear and uncertainty, a flicker of desire burned within you, a stubborn resolve to claim him as much as he claims you.

He led you into a large room with double doors. Compared to the gaudy decorations of the wedding hall, this room was relatively simple: a chamber of dark elegance and understated grandeur. There were only the bare necessities required of a bedroom, but each piece had been impeccably handmade with the most exquisite of materials. At its center, a massive four-poster bed stands as the focal point, its frame crafted from polished ebony wood, intricately carved with motifs of serpents and ivy. Perfectly sized above the bed, stretching over the ceiling was pure reflective glass. You swallowed thickly, this man had no shame.

A grand chandelier hangs from the center of the ceiling, its crystals casting prismatic rays of light across the room, illuminating the space with a haunting allure.

The walls are lined with dark, navy paneling, adorned sparingly with antique tapestries depicting scenes of forgotten battles and dangerously sharpened weapons. A sleek, black writing desk sits nearby, stacked with books on war strategies and adorned with quill and parchment.

A sense of regal simplicity pervades the space, each element carefully curated to its master. This is a sanctuary of solitude, where one can retreat from the heaviness of the Harkonnen world and immerse themselves in the embrace of peace.

Busy admiring the room, you didn’t notice Feyd-Rautha locking the doors behind you. You tensed when you suddenly felt the coldness of a blade against your back. With one precise slice, he cut your wedding dress open leading all the decorative pearls to fall to the ground. Your hands instinctively went to cover yourself, but his newfound grip on your wrists was even faster.

“You are mine now, pet.” His hands slowly guided yours down as he ripped away the rest of your dress. “Do not resist me, I want to see you in all your beauty.”

Your face flushed as you looked away from him. You knew objecting to his wish was futile, perhaps if you appeased him then he’d be gentler. You learned this was a useless thought the moment you saw his expression – raw, animalistic hunger chipped away at the edges of his sanity. His pupils dilated so wide that his eyes became monochromatic orbs of obsidian.

He removed his own clothes with swift and lithe movements, revealing pure sculpted muscle. Through the rapid rise and fall of his chest, you could see that he was barely holding back his lust. Feyd-Rautha was going to devour you without leaving a single morsel for the world.

“I-I… If you hurt me, I will scream.”

“Go ahead, it’ll only stroke my ego if you do. Scream loud enough for the whole banquet to hear. Let them know what pleasures your husband bestows upon you.”

With each step he took towards you, you took two steps back. When you felt the bed come into contact with the back of your knees, you realize you’ve been trapped.

“Lie down.” he commanded.

Sensing the tonal shift in his voice, you obeyed. You felt his long, slender fingers enter your most intimate place. When he curved against your inner wall, you let out an involuntarily moan – which he quickly swallowed from your lips. You had touched yourself before, but only rarely during occasions when you couldn’t sleep and the moon was hanging high.

However, this was different – he was different. His fingers reached places where yours never could. Your body made lewd sounds as he pumped in and out of you with torturous speed. The way you grind against his hand was indecent, but he rewarded you with such sweet friction. Hearing his low pants against your ear, you couldn't help but writhe into his touch. When you came undone, he smirked and licked your essence from his fingers.

Before you could catch your breath, he was on top of you again; caging you between his toned arms. He reached out to grasp your chin before roughly crashing his lips down on yours. The kiss was all-consuming, he was drinking in every part of you without letting you breathe. Your eyes wandered down to where his member stood unnaturally stiff and enlarged. Your new husband sneered at your expression before his right hand circled around your throat.

“Your throat… it shall be my axis tonight.”

[letsplaythermalnuclearwar]

Which best describes the ship you're currently most obsessed with?

it doesn't have to accurately describe the ship, just the descriptor you think is the most fitting. all gendered language is there to preserve the meme and should be read as gender neutral. please reblog for a greater sample size. if you are equally obsessed with multiple ships or currently not obsessed with any, just pick a ship you enjoy (if you don't like any ships, the dynamic you think sounds the most entertaining)

edit: if multiple fit perfectly, chose the aspect you like best about the ship

[bella-goths-wife]

So if Alastor made a deal with Vs pet before going missing for 7 years how would she be at the hotel?

What would have happened if alastor made a deal with Vs pet before leaving

Warnings: obsession, bad foreshadowing, violence?

In all honestly, if alastor had ran into you again before disappearing he would have made a deal with you

You intrigued him in a way that he hadn’t felt in years, the familiarity he felt towards you almost made him nostalgic

But let’s say he did offer you a deal on the day you met

It would be something similar to your deal with vox, your soul in exchange for food, water, shelter and protection

He’d give you a small cottage away from the city and close to the cannibal colonies, somewhere where you could live without the worry of being hurt or killed

Your fridge would always be stocked with food every week and you had all the things you could need in the cottage with you

Now you expected there to be a huge workload after you found out what a prominent demon alastor was, but all you had to really do was be his assistant and help him with his broadcasts

You were his assistant for a few weeks before he disappeared and suddenly you were alone again

You were still taken care of in the essential ways, your always had food and water in your little cottage and Rosie checked up on the cottage once a week to make sure you were still alive and safe

But you were lonely, so you started to help out Rosie in the cannibal colony every now and again

And you continued like that for seven years, until alastor finally returned

Rosie had let you know about his return and warned you that he would call on you soon and not to ask him to many questions

It was whiplash for you, one minute you were making some tea in the kitchen and the next you were standing in the hotel lobby with a look of shock

Alastor introduced you to everyone and informed you that you’d be staying at the hotel with him to help Charlie with her vision

You were mainly there to help alastor and be his entertainment, but you did help nifty with chores and even cooked meals for everyone

Charlie was ecstatic to have a younger soul with them and claimed that you’d be perfect for redemption

Her girlfriend, vaggie, on the other hand was extremely cautious around you since you were associated with alastor

Husk knew of you from whispers from some of the other souls alastor owned

At first he pitied you since he knew what it was like to be leashed by alastor, and then he saw how much alastor favoured you and treated you much nicer than he treated any of his other souls

Husk couldn’t help but feel bitter of the fact that he was in a much worse situation than you, but he eventually grew to like you since he understood you were practically a kid compared to him and he wouldn’t wish his fate on anyone

You and angel wouldn’t be as close as you were if you were the Vs pet, but you’d both still be friends

Alastor wouldn’t be fond of sharing you with the rest of the hotel since you were there to be his entertainment, but when he made comments about it and gave you an unnecessary workload he got a very harsh scolding from Rosie

I believe that alastor would become like a mentor to you, almost fatherly but not too much

It’s canon that alastor would be a terrible father but a great mentor so I could see him teaching you how to use your power to its full extent and he’d like combining your powers together

I like to imagine that when you and alastor combine your abilities then it would start off as a 1920s jazz music sound and would contain techno beats when you join in

Your relationship with alastor would be almost parallel to yours and vox if you were the Vs pet

It would be less cruel and you’d be much happier, but there would still be a hint of obsession in the relationship

Alastor would definitely be somewhat possessive of you in a certain way, the same way a male deer is protective of its children

He’d like getting to know you and finding out what the connection was between you to

The Vs would absolutely despise you since you were associated with alastor and the first time they met you was through one of Vox and alastors fights

So overall I think you’d be much happier and safer with alastor but that doesn’t exclude you from still feeling like a pet

But at least with this path, you’d have a chance at redemption for you

That’s if alastor didn’t drag you back from the pearly gates by a leash

———————————————————————

“And this little dear is my darling assistant” is the first thing you hear as your pulled from the shadows, you could recognise that voice anywhere.

One minute you were stood in your lovely kitchen and now your stood trying to take in what seems to be a hotel.

You try and hide your surprise as you turn to find your owners crazed grin staring down at you.

“What am I doing here alastor?” You question with a confused tone. You know you shouldn’t question him, Rosie had warned you against it, but you couldn’t help your curiosity “where have you been?”

Alastors eye twitches in what seems to be irritation as he stares down at you, you could see a cat demon behind alastor wince in what looked like fear before alastor wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“Nevermind that, my little doe” alastor says with an over exaggerated laugh “I’ve brought you here because Charlie here has an idea to redeem demons, truly laughable I know but I’ve taken it upon myself to help her achieve this pipe dream”

Alastor laughed with radio static as a background before turning you to look at him once again.

“And I knew I wouldn’t be able to do it without my dearest little fawn” alastor said with a grin as his claws pinched your cheek in what could be seen as threatening or playful, you gave up guessing a long time ago “so from now on you’ll be staying here and helping me with this hotel, okay dear?”

You simply nodded at his question, knowing you had no grounds to refuse your owner. You had to play the loyal pet once again.

“Perfect” alastor said with pep in his tone as he let go of you and face you in the direction of the bar “now run along and get to know the others while I talk with Charlie about your rooming arrangements, I’ll call you back when I need you”

You nodded as you begin walking to the bar and you take a seat next to an extremely tall spider man who eyes you with curiosity. You’re in front of the cat demon from earlier who also regards you with intrigue.

“Hi” you say almost shyly as your ears remain pinned against your head, you hadn’t talked to someone other than Rosie or alastor since you made your deal and this entire experience was outside your comfort zone.

“Heya toots” the spider demon spoke unsurely as he looked down at you “where’s smiles been keepin’ you then?”

“Hm?” You make a questioning sound as your head tilts in a confused manner

“He means he’s not seen you around, no one has” the cat demon clarifies with a gruff tone “it’s weird for alastor not to cash in on a favour from his souls, angel here wants to know where alastors been keepin’ you”

“Oh” you say with a confused look “I don’t think he’s kept me hidden exactly”

“Well I only heard about you through whispers, but I assumed it was just rumours” husk responds gruffly “no one knew alastor had an assistant until a few days ago when he mentioned bringing you here”

“Didn’t think smiles had it in him” the spider, angel, comments before looking you up and down “your a bit young for him though, don’t ya think husk”

Husk nods cautiously as he takes in your appearance, you couldn’t have been been more than eighteen.

“It’s not like that” you assure with a mildly disturbed face at the thought of the insinuation

“Than what are you to smiles toots?” Angel asked curiously “because he certainly seemed fond of you”

You think for a moment on how to explain your connection with alastor before speaking cautiously

“Well, I’m his-“ you were about to answer but alastors call interrupted you.

“My dear” alastor called for you “don’t you think it’s time you and I set up for a broadcast”

You nod as you abandon the two demons to walk beside alastor on his way to his radio station, like a loyal mutt being called back into the house.

“I think it’s time I show that pesky TV that radio still lives” alastor comments as he puts his hand on your shoulder and guides you “and with my perfect little assistant, I’m sure my broadcast will be as great as ever”

[slasherscream]

Crazy Ass Girls Gang ft. what type of yandere are they

warnings: yandere behavior - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Tiffany Valentine / clingy, obsessive, manipulative 

You'd better be damn sure you want to be with Tiffany before you ever bring up dating her because there is no escape once you've embarked on the exciting journey of being her romantic partner.

But if we're being honest you never really had a choice. You think you met organically? Became close by fate? No, Tiffany saw you and wanted you and decided to have you.

It was love at first sight on her part.

You'll be friends for a few months as she weaves the inescapable web around you. Best friends, actually. You'll tell her absolutely everything about yourself. Learn everything about her in turn. It's pure bliss to have a friend like Tiffany. Supportive, charming, affectionate.

You can tell she loves you more than anything. Loves you more than anyone else has ever loved you before, and she isn't afraid to show it.

You probably already had a partner when you met Tiffany. She was heartbroken when you first told her. The heartbreak didn't last long. Why cry over spilled milk? She wants to take it slow with you anyways, make sure that this time every aspect of the life you build together will be perfect.

She's come in too heavy before. You can't rush perfection, her mother always told her. For you, the lesson is finally worth learning.

Everything can be a tool. In the right hands. And Tiffany's hands? Why, they're incredibly skilled. She uses your soon-to-be-ex as a diving board for your upcoming relationship with her. Even if you'd been perfectly content with the relationship until you met Tiffany, suddenly everything is awful.

Tiffany points out every mistreatment. Every cancelled date. Every strange tone they used when talking to you. Every shitty, unoriginal gift. Every moment they weren't enthusiastic enough about good news you had to share.

It gets to the point where you can't even look at them half the time. You'll end dates with your partner early just to go spend more time with Tiffany: "What do you think they meant when they said that, Tiff?" / "I think they forgot who they were talking to, sweetheart! They're lucky I wasn't around or I would've cut out their tongue."

Tiffany has you so wrapped around her finger she's not even the one who suggests the break up. She was still going to wait a month or two before she began to truly push.

But when you show up at her doorstep in the middle of the night, holding flowers and her favorite takeout, rambling about how you've been so blind and it's always been Her...

Well, she has to smile as she pulls you in, savoring the last first kiss your lips will ever gift another soul.

She almost forgot how good she is at getting what she wants.

Jordan Li / protective, obsessive, lucid

You're so sweet. It was the first thought Jordan remembers having about you. The beginning of the end. They haven't been able to stop thinking about you since that one fatal moment.

Jordan has plenty of other things to think about. Things that should outclass you in importance easily. Their ranking, Brink's careful mentoring, their grades. They tell themselves that it all still matters more than you but they know they're lying to themselves.

It scares them a little, how much they actually think about you. Not a minute can go by without their thoughts drifting to you.

Did you eat today? / Your next class is in ten minutes, let me walk you, I've got the time. / You were running out of your favorite perfume. Got you a new bottle. / You look upset. Did someone fucking say something to you?

They can't help the way they hover around you during every spare moment they can find.

Jordan knows your schedule by heart to maximize the amount of time you can spend together. It's a balancing act they have to play with their brain for the simplest of tasks: you can spend the rest of the day with Y/N but you have to finish grading these essays first.

They can't function properly when they go too long without you. They swing on their sparring partners too hard. Stare at the clock during lectures instead of listening. They rip textbooks and snap pens by holding them too tight.

Sometimes they have to give up and call you. If they can't go and see you for whatever reason the sound of your voice makes it better. Hearing you talk, the sound of you breathing, laughing. It helps. Calms the buzz beneath Jordan's skin. They dial your contact, glaring into space as they wait for you to pick up. As soon as you do their body relaxes.

They recognize that their behavior isn't normal. Always needing to know where you are, who you're with. Feeling sick when they don't know.

You're like a drug for Jordan. They know you're an addiction, the way you've crawled under their skin. No high on earth compares, and Jordan has fucking compared them all. They pull you into their lap, as close as they can get you and it's never enough. Nothing is ever enough.

"Please don't fucking go anywhere, yeah?" Jordan will mumble into the skin of your neck. Their grip on you is too tight, face twisted at the desperation they feel. It's not pillow talk. They're begging. Genuinely. They'd do anything to keep you this close, always.

"Of course not, Jordie." You coo back. They close their eyes and pretend the words are enough. Nothing ever is.

Nancy Downs / delusional, possessive, obsessive

As soon as Nancy wants you there's no other option for you besides her. You can either choose to go along with it or you can fight it.

Fighting against her is like fighting against the tide, though. You can tread water for awhile. Keep your head afloat, sure. But eventually you'll get tired. Nature wins. Besides, fighting against Nancy becomes unpleasant fast. Being hers is so much nicer. She's gentler that way, kinder.

You're allowed to have friends, she doesn't isolate you completely.

It's just your old friends sucked. They didn't appreciate you. Didn't look out for you. Selfish users just like everyone else. Moths are always drawn to the light, and she'll kill every moth that strays a little too close to you, before it ever gets a chance to singe itself on your warmth. It's a mercy, really. Living a life in the darkness and having one brief moment in the sun is miserable. Nancy should know. It almost drives her crazy when you're not around. If you ever left she'd want to be put out of her misery too.

Her coven, though? They're perfect. Her coven is a family. And you were the last missing piece of it.

Anything about your old life, the life before her, can be viewed as a threat at a moment's notice. Family. Friends. Memories you speak of a little too fondly. Even a hobby could do it. She wants your focus to be her. It's only fair, her only focus is you.

Even when she's not around. Even when you're completely alone you swear you can feel her eyes on you. Her magic drifting against your skin as if she was sitting right beside you.

Nancy's intensity can be scary but she makes anyone else's love seem dull in comparison.

Who else could love you like she does? Who else would die for you? Nancy wouldn't even have to think about it first. All she asks in return is for you to do the same. Live for her. Dedicate every breathe in your lungs to her.

It's not so hard, she'll lead by example.

Jennifer Check / manipulative, possessive, clingy

She couldn't give a shit about anyone else but you. Somehow you managed to sneak your way into her heart and she can't let go of you. Won't let go of you. You're the only thing that's keeping that small, soft, human part of her alive. You dragged that bit of her back from the grave she put it in, actually. So it wouldn't be fair for you to try and leave, after you made her weak again. Human again.

Her world revolves around you. Her priorities are her next meal and you. Of course she gets pissed off if you don't reciprocate her energy. Look at her, how could you ever put anything above her?

Jennifer wants you to be everything to each other, though she won't say it out loud. It shows in her actions.

You belong to her. Every version of yourself that exists in the world should belong to her. The version of you that you are when you're someone's best friend. When you're someone's partner. It's all hers. She won't let anyone else take root in your life in a role that she can fill. She'll do a better job anyways.

The enormity of her ego and the way she clings might seem at odds. She thinks she's a God walking amongst fucking cattle. But she sticks to you like a second skin. A hand always at your waist. Her lips always chasing yours, whining when you don't give in fast enough, when you don't melt like she does. Her grip iron clad when you hold hands. If you pull away too soon from a hug, from a kiss, she bites, she holds on with claws.

She coos at the marks she leaves on your skin and kisses all the scratches and bruises she leaves better. / "I'm sorry baby, you know I hate letting you go."

Carrie White / idolizer, protective, selfless

Not in her wildest dreams did Carrie think anyone could be as kind as you. People are cruel. Their first instinct is to cause hurt before they'll ever reach out a hand to help, to shield, to love.

But you're not like that at all. You're something ripped straight from a fairy-tale. The rare ones that her Mother let her read, that weren't hiding devil worship between their poetic words.

You're so patient with her. So gentle. You treat her like glass. You hold her close, and kiss her soft, and cup her face in your hands that are always so warm.

You say you love her in a breathless way, every time. Like even expressing how much you care makes you dizzy. As if she overwhelms you. She feels dizzy herself as she hangs on your every honeyed word. Clings to you every time you reach out your hands to hold her.

Carrie doesn't know if she believes in God nowadays, but if she did you'd be an angel sent straight from heaven. A gift, maybe, to make up for all the years of torment she endured from everyone she'd ever known.

She'd think you were some kind of God yourself, if you had any sort of abilities like her. But you don't. You walk around doing what's right, being good down to the marrow of your very bones just because it's who you are. You greet the world with your fists raised and you're only human, and it scares Carrie so much.

You're the last decent person alive and you'll throw yourself onto any pyre you see if it means doing what's right. Carrie loves that about you. It terrifies her.

So Carrie throws herself into the ring with you. Your sweet, gentle Carrie who you're always trying to protect. But Carrie doesn't need your protection. She's not the helpless little girl she used to be. She won't let anything hurt either of you, from now on. For the rest of your lives you'll be safe, happy. Together. Carrie would burn the world to ash if it meant not a scratch would befall you.

"You're an angel, Y/N. The most wonderful angel God ever made."

Ginger Fitzgerald / possessive, impulsive, protective,

Sometimes Ginger wishes everyone else in the world would disappear, besides the two of you. They're a hindrance.

She feels insane when she watches you. She feels her claws come out and makes herself bleed as she fights against the instinct to rip out every tongue that speaks to you, and every pair of eyes that's ever looked into yours.

She shivers when you claim her. The only time she enjoys being around other people now is when you're introducing her: "This is Ginger, my girlfriend." "This is Ginger, my partner." "This is Ginger, my best friend." "This is Ginger, my everything."

She loves being yours. Relishes in the way you say the word mine. She wants to lick the words from your mouth, the weight of your total ownership over her sweet and poisonous.

She wonders if you get the same pleasure from belonging to her. She wants you to. She wants to carve her name into your skin with her claws and have you moan at the first sharp sting of the letter G.

It's primal, the way she wants you. Beyond anything humans have words for. She leaves her scent on your skin and wants to growl when you wash it away with artificial soaps and perfumes. She sucks bruises into every inch of you that anyone else could see.

She wants you to do the same. Wants to roll onto her back and expose her neck, and have you bite so hard you draw blood.

Ginger's wanting comes with teeth. What she is demands she sinks her teeth into things, that she draws blood. Even when she loves you. Because she loves you, maybe. She needs to leave a mark on you. She needs to always be there. She needs the same from you.

Needs you to leave scars on her that she can touch when you're not around. Proof that you were there. Proof that you're coming back. You don't carve your name into things and then abandon them. When you own things you keep them.

When you're gone the world goes dim and cold. She couldn't survive in a world without you. She wouldn't even attempt it. What would be the fucking point?

"We're a pair. We belong to each other. Always, yeah?"

[ybklix]

BROOKLYN BABY

★ pairing: rockstarbf!hyunjin x fem!reader

✦summary: Your boyfriend’s pretty cool, plays guitar and is in a popular band. You love to support him, yet you can't help but feel jealous and insecure at the sight of all his fans and the groupies the rest of the members bring backstage.

✭ content - tags - warnings: MDNI, smut, established relationship, fluff, fingering, oral sex

word count: 3.7k

•masterlist•

♡ inspiration:

a/n: happy late ultraviolence day, my fav album, no one loves her like i do lolol, so here’s a little smth, i'll write more inspired by the rest of the songs omg i love my fav child

Hyunjin was a romantic, unlike the rest of his band members, who enjoyed the excess, success and fame that grew more and more every day. He was in charge of writing each of the songs that thrilled thousands of teenagers since he had such an idealized perception of love and loved to romanticize every detail as well as he was in charge of designing each artistic design of the album because of his skills in drawing and painting, he was a sensitive artist, born under a water sign, trying to give the image of a tough and sexy guy for the good of the band. His position was to be the lead guitarist and backing voice for the lead vocalist, yet everyone in the band contributed vocally, grabbing the audience like no other band in that year in the nineties. The crazy nineties, everyone loved rock and roll with the same intensity as the seventies and this time more styles were explored. Everyone loved your boyfriend's band.

You were lucky enough to meet him when they were still newbies with big dreams performing in bars, where Hyunjin claims to have fallen in love with you at first sight, however, his shyness got the best of him and he didn't dare to talk to you and, it wasn't until a month later that, in a jazz club in Brooklyn, in one of the poetry sessions and nights, almost by fate, he met you again, he couldn't miss the opportunity and finally approached you, he seemed so cute and strangely his face seemed so familiar to you, it was about the handsome guitarist you saw once.

Hyunjin didn't have a specific favorite band, he took inspiration from the greats, he enjoyed everything from Nirvana to Guns n' Roses, to classics like Led Zeppelin, he was frequently talking to you on the phone to tell you about his obsession of the week musically, the most recent one, Chris Isaak. Two months ago he started his official tour around the country, which you couldn't accompany him no matter how much you wanted to, the university stopped you. Yet you still supported him from afar and watched every TV show he went on and every radio station with his interviews, you were so happy for him. His most recent appearance was on MTV, he looked like a celebrity, but he was still your sweet and tender Jinnie. And finally he was coming back to close the tour at his hometown in New York City, where it all started for you.

You, unlike Hyunjin, were more down to earth, honest and not afraid to stand up for your beliefs, so you studied law, with an uncontrollable passion for shy lyrics. In contrast to your parents, both rock and roll lovers, artists, your mother was a tarot amateur and identified herself as a spiritual person, your father a landscape painter, both met at a music festival the same amount of years ago as your older brother's age, a Manhattan novelist; yet you grew up in an environment where support was always constant and your personality developed being totally different from your boyfriend's, bold and daring, born under a sign of fire.

You loved Hyunjin, together you were literally like fire and water, and finally you could see him again after so long, you missed him too much, you missed when his band was still small and you spent days in his apartment watching him play the guitar, how he held you by the waist and kissed your neck while you combed your hair to go to college, every little detail that from one day to another changed.

Because of your schedule you couldn't meet your boyfriend at the airport and you could barely stand in the front row, waiting for them to come out and play. You wanted to go backstage to wish him luck, run into his arms and kiss him, after so long and only surviving on phone calls. But, for the first time you were terrified to be in the crowd and you didn't want to lose your place in the front row next to your boyfriend's position, although you thought for seconds if you should go closer and watch the concert from backstage… you were so indecisive and you never visualized your boyfriend's manager to authorize you to enter… you pouted and in a matter of minutes the venue was filling up more, you noticed how, among the crowd and entering easily, three girls were standing next to you. You couldn't help but notice them, they were wearing skirts and cleavage-baring tops, their eyeliner was sharp and perfect, you felt a little inferior and slightly less attractive for a second.

And the show started, the lights went down, and you heard your boyfriend's guitar, the people started to scream and your heart accelerated, the lights turned on, illuminating individually each one of the four members and, among them was your boyfriend, looking as good as always, his long black hair, his red guitar and wearing a gray sleeveless shirt attached to his body with ripped jeans and black combat boots, you noticed he was wearing the necklace you gave him before he went away from you to start the tour and… suddenly your world came to a standstill, there was only Hyunjin in front of you, doing what he is most passionate about.

Hyunjin, once he started to play, he looked for you with his eyes without stopping until he found you in front of him, his smile got bigger, he was smiling like he had never done in another concert, he felt so full. He winked at you and continued with his show, moving his fingers with agility, a young and gifted guitarist with talent, so did Rolling Stone described him in a small article; a little more than an arduous hour of concert later, Hyunjin finished agitated and slightly sweaty and, among the emotion, the only thing he asked to make the night more beautiful, was to be able to hug you. Until he finally did it, he had to go backstage with the rest of the group, but his manager took care to guide you discreetly to the room behind the stage, at the same time you noticed the same three girls next to you walking next to you, to which you understood instantly that they were groupies, you sighed, you could not help but get upset at the fleeting thought that… maybe Hyunjin has had his own groupie before.

Among the darkness of the venue, you finally found the light, the lit room and, there, your boyfriend standing there with a nervous smile waiting for you, your jealousy vanished in seconds, you couldn't be mad at him, he looked so cute with his little sparkling eyes and a shirt over his shoulders trying to dry his sweat. You ran to him and hugged him no matter how soaked he was, it was part of his routine. You felt his lean frame next to your body and warm chest bump against yours, oh, Hyunjin, you had missed him too much.

“I missed you” Hyunjin spoke, his chin resting on your shoulder, holding you tightly.

“I missed you, too” you replied breathlessly, you were so excited to see him.

You slowly pulled apart and he had to kiss you, so he took your face in his hands and did it delicately and passionately, in such a unique way he knew how to do it.

You both smiled at each other as you pulled apart.

“You should have come with me next time, oh god, the west coast is… so different, I think we should move to California once you finish college, love. They offered me a house in Hollywood” Hyunjin blurted out suddenly excited and overstimulated to have you near him.

You laughed softly at his adorable reaction, the way his cheeks went up, narrowing his eyes more, his smile, hiding his upper lip and showing his teeth, ready to speak again.

“I have an interview for Rolling Stone in a few minutes, but after that I'm all yours, I promise, let's get you to say hi to the guys” Hyunjin spoke softly taking you by the hand.

You happily walked into the place, but your smile faded as you saw one of the girls wildly kissing the lead vocalist, Han, on one of the couches while she was sitting on his lap. Another girl on the drummer's lap as he sat behind the instrument and the bassist talking animatedly with another girl.

“Hey, guys” you said shyly trying not to interrupt something.

The members came out of their trances and greeted you.

“Do you want something to drink?” Hyunjin tried to distract you with a tender smile.

“I'll get it, love” you smiled at Hyunjin giving him a quick kiss on his full lips and headed to the drink table.

Hyunjin made himself comfortable on an elongated couch, alone, and waiting for you.

“And you, Hyunjin, if you had the chance to smoke and chat with any singer who would it be with?” one of the girls came dangerously close to Hyunjin, plopping down on the couch very close to him, placing her hand on his thigh.

You turned around, with the two drinks in your hands and suddenly saw the scene of the girl near your boyfriend, making you squint your eyes in annoyance.

“I don't smoke. I don't know… Steven Tyler maybe” stood Hyunjin uncomfortably and walked to your direction, giving you a tender smile and taking one of the glasses.

“God, his daughter is beautiful, we saw her at that club in L.A., didn't we? A pretty, educated girl” added Chris, the drummer.

“The correct answer is Bon Jovi, he's too good looking, who wouldn't want to talk to him?” commented Changbin, the bass player.

Los Angeles, you thought, just California that Hyunjin told you so passionately about a few moments ago… you couldn't help but think of ideas not good at all, you were jealous, upset and a little hurt. You knew Hyunjin would never do anything to hurt you… or would he?

You looked at him, he understood your look instantly, he knew you as well as every string of his favorite precious guitar and tried to pull you away from them, taking you to his dressing room, ready to calm you down and be more in privacy. Hyunjin knew you were easily angered, you tried to be a cute and docile girlfriend but you couldn't. He recognized your annoyed expression, making him bite his lip undecided what to say.

“Those girls are always with you?” you spat annoyed.

“Y/n…” tried to reassure you Hyunjin.

“Hyunjin have you been with a groupie?” you blurted out suddenly staring him straight in the eyes defiantly.

You weren't thinking clearly, anger took over you, you were aware that it happened every time they finished a concert, or at least you want to think it's like that for the rest of the members who are single, but seeing it with your own eyes made your blood boil at the thought of a girl near your boyfriend trying to seduce him. The life of a rock star girlfriend wasn't for you, you wanted Hyunjin all to yourself.

“You know I wouldn't do that… I waited every day for you, I thought every day about you” Hyunjin replied, taking your glass and leaving it on a small table over there just like his drink.

Hyunjin searched for your gaze, you didn't want to see him, you were behaving a bit childish but his words could be a lie, after all he was a rising star. He grabbed your forearm, squeezing them gently between his large hands and you turned to look at him. His tender but manly face of compassion, his thick eyebrows making the slightest expression of concern, if you didn't love him too much you would have trust issues, but you believed Hyunjin blindly.

You approached up to him and hugged him, he reciprocated the happy gesture, your heartbeats joining and the closeness of your body, Hyunjin was so in love that if there was a way to make you do it clearly, he would do it without thinking. Sex was not enough, he wanted to live inside you forever and he was so passionate about it that he wrote countless songs, you were his muse and the great love of his life.

You stood on your tiptoes and brought your arms up to wrap around his neck with a smile.

“Tomorrow, let's go to your favorite place in Greenwich Village, okay?” you said to him, letting your frustrations pass you by.

Hyunjin raised his eyebrows excitedly and smiled sweetly without showing his teeth.

“I'm dying to go… and to kiss you and make love to you while we play an Audrey Hepburn movie in the background…” he said slowly and flirtatiously, holding you tighter around the waist and leering at you from above.

You laughed softly as you remembered the first time you fucked in his apartment, where he promised a romantic movie date and ended up frantically pounding your pussy as he cummed in you.

Hyunjin leaned further into you, closing his eyes and kissing you fiercely, after a little over a minute, his sizzling kisses suddenly turned you on, making you weak in his arms. You hadn't had sex with Hyunjin for two long months, at this point you thought it was even abstinence, you needed him.

He continued to tease you with his deep, slow kisses as he groped your body and brazenly ran his hands under your dress, reaching down to your bare bottom wearing only panties and massaged your ass hard. You were starting to feel a mess of emotions, but luckily this time you finally had your boyfriend with you.

Hyunjin continued to squeeze you tightly, drawing you to his body and this time feeling that he was the same way you were, aroused. Hyunjin found his way to bring his dominant hand to your entrance, making you open your mouth slightly in a soft moan between the kiss. He pulled inches away from you, almost still almost touching your lips and you saw how attractive your boyfriend looked with his slightly intimidating gaze and fuller lips from your passionate kisses.

“I missed you so much” he said excitedly, nimbly pushing aside the fabric of your panties for better access to your area.

You lowered your hands from his neck and held onto his abdomen. Hyunjin was more turned on by the slight difficulty in caressing your pussy because you were standing still. You felt his long, slender, slightly raspy fingers, due the strings of his guitar, stroking along your tight, compressed folds and you spread your legs wider trying to facilitate his caresses, Hyunjin smirked smugly at the sight of you horny, licking his lips.

“Do you like it, love?” he sighed amused and excited.

You nodded awkwardly and didn't stop looking into his eyes for a second, but your peripheral vision caught perfectly his long arm guided in your area, you were losing more and more strength, every touch of Hyunjin made you lose your sanity, he was so skilled with his hands and fingers, after all he was a talented guitarist, you wanted to fuck him so desperately, to feel filled by him after such a long time. You didn't think about it and your hand also went to his prominent bulge, rubbing it gently, this time driving your boyfriend crazy. You stroked and squeezed the denim, he was so hard and at the same time his cock was so soft and slick, it always felt good.

Hyunjin sped up his rubbing on your clitoris, making you tremble a little, he leaned towards you bringing his foreheads together and looking at you sweetly.

“Do you want me to fuck you with my fingers, my sweet angel?” he said, as you felt his hot, heavy breathing hit your face.

“Yes” you moaned in between breaths.

Your boyfriend smiled sweetly, so innocent almost like he didn't seem to know exactly the distance from your labia to your entrance, slipping two of his fingers easily into your tight, wet hole. He gently fingered you, enjoying your caresses on his erection and being in control of your pleasure, occasionally looking smugly to his right side as you were in front of the mirror, watching your body tremble before him, but it was becoming increasingly difficult for you to stand, so your boyfriend, concerned looked for an immediate solution, looking at his dressing room chair.

“Sit down. Let me taste you, love” he whispered in your ear, gently pulling his hand away from you.

You were about to do so but a voice near you, interrupted you.

“Hyunjiiiin, come out, where are you? The Rolling Stone fuckers are about to arrive” you heard a rather familiar voice shout, as it slowly approached.

Hyunjin opened his eyes in fright, causing you tenderness, followed by a gasp of frustration.

“Shit, I can't show up to the interview like this” he groaned in frustration.

You looked at your boyfriend's large and noticeable erection in his pants, and you again directed your hand on it squeezing it gently and looked him submissively in the eyes.

“Let me help you, Jinnie” you said seductively, stroking his bulge to which he moaned.

“B-but” he was about to protest.

“Shh” you silenced him, giving him a quick kiss and a cocky grin.

And with no time to waste you got down on your knees in front of his cock, you were so aroused, your pussy was throbbing hard and your throat was suddenly dry and ready to be filled with boyfriend's stiff member. You loved giving him blowjobs, his cock was exquisitely long and Hyunjin always knew how to use it with agility at every strategic spot on you, he knew you so well. You nimbly pulled down his pants and underwear finding his well standing and sensitive manhood, your boyfriend whimpered, yes, he was excited to see you too.

You grasped the base of his penis with your right hand and gently held his balls with your other hand, you raised your gaze to Hyunjin, who was pressing his lips tightly together letting himself be carried away by your touches. You ran your hand over his slightly tanned cock, your mouth was salivating more and more and your poor pussy was also reacting for your boyfriend's erect cock. You had forgotten how it was the last time you sucked him off and you were more than happy to be able to do it again. You gently spat on its tip and lubed it further, jerking it off in the process, feeling its slippery, slightly rough texture; Hyunjin was panting hard, letting out deep sighs and moans from his chest, a completely vocal boy.

You stuck out your tongue a little and opened your mouth to flick his big piece of organ on your needed tongue, tasting a little of his nice white precum, until finally introducing it little by little in your mouth, making sure your lips also felt what was yours, Hyunjin's big cock, all yours. He was big and with a very good thickness, always filling your insides to overflowing, to your limit; you had it all with him, he was cute, romantic and gave you the best orgasms.

Hyunjin whimpered at the feeling of the inside of your soft cheeks caressing his cock and immediately held onto your hair delicately without pulling it.

“Aggh, sweetheart, it feels so good” he gasped.

“Hyunjin, where the fuck are you man?” they shouted again.

“Fuck” gasped your boyfriend frustrated by the situation and the tightness of his cock in your mouth.

You also felt the pressure, your blood flow rushing harder and your heart racing, you had to make your boyfriend cum fast; so you started sucking him hard and keeping a little faster pace than usual, back and forth, taking all his swollen and throbbing length expertly.

“Hyunjin” you heard again a call in the distance. “Hyunjin come out, the Rolling Stone magazine people are here.”

“I'm coming” he squealed out loud in a shuddering whimper, completely lost from the stimulation of his cock in your mouth, “I'm literally coming, what the fuck” moaned Hyunjin biting his lip and taking more tightly your hair, intensifying your movements, fucking your mouth wildly.

You felt your boyfriend's climax near, so he didn't hesitate to feel the bottom of your throat, pushing hard on your head until you felt his tickling glans rubbing your throat as your boyfriend gave gentle lunges, you whimpered on his cock, your eyes quickly watered, you couldn't breathe somehow and, after a few seconds, he pushed you away a little. Finally, you saw his head falling back, his thighs quivering and his perfect abdomen contracting as he babbled excitedly and barely understandable your name. Until you felt his glorious shot of cum in your mouth, filling you completely; Hyunjin always cum in one strong shot and then his cum kept coming slowly so you waited to have it all in you. He subtly stopped holding your hair tightly and gently pushed your head off his member; resulting in the obscene image of his shiny, lubricated cock spurting out of your mouth as more of his liquid fell to the floor.

You swallowed your boyfriend's thick, white liquid and stood up quickly, Hyunjin was trying to steady himself and think clearly again, but you recognized that he was in a hurry, that was the main reason you were sucking him fast and hard so he would ejaculate fast and also the reason you tried to quench your fiery desire and arousal, he had to continue being a rock star and doing rock star things.

“Come on, Hyunjin you have to go out” you told him.

Your boyfriend gently shook his head as he stared at you and reacted instantly, rearranging his cock back into his underwear and pulling up his pants, you watched the scene cheekily biting your lip, even without him being hard, you could clearly see the big package your boyfriend was hiding in his pants, you blushed and once again thought of all the fucking groupies fantasizing about fucking him.

Hyunjin took your face in his hands and made you look into his eyes, his sharp dark eyes that made him look so intimidating, if only they knew he was the most tender and you had him in the palm of your hand, so docile and obedient.

“I promise to reward you, okay?” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Thank you for that, love, I love you.”

You nodded softly even with his grip on your cheeks, you watched him lovingly. And you watched him walk away, ready to go back to being the shining star Hwang Hyunjin.

[romypearl]

The Queen's Pawn - Regina George/Oblivious!Reader

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven

Summary: Everyone is interested and obsessed with Regina George, after all, she is the queen of the North Shore, so why does Y/N barely look at her? The new student, oblivious to her existence, intrigues and irritates the blonde at the same time. And she doesn't know how to deal with it.

Classification: Fluff

Warnings: None, for now

Word count: +1400

Unrevised

She's boring.

Very annoying.

A total waste of time.

Sometimes seems to live on Mars.

And Regina George doesn't know why she wants to get her attention so badly.

When their gazes met a few weeks earlier in the cafeteria and Y/N greeted her as if she were any other human, well, the blonde has to admit that she felt her stomach lurch into an unfamiliar sensation and all the air being knocked out of her lungs. She had never seen her in North Shore, nor in the city, and it was annoyingly difficult to discreetly find out anything about the new student, after all, she never shows interest in anyone, it's always the other way around. However, as fate would have it, she soon found out that they shared some classes. That's how she knew her name, age, that she's not from Evanston and is very close to fucking Janis 'Imi'ike, with hands intertwined as they cross the tumultuous corridors and play with each other's hair, telling inside jokes. Damn it, it's only the third week and they're joined at the hip. And she's never looked at or waved to Regina in the same way, most of the time she seems almost oblivious to her existence.

The tray seems more interesting than the latest random conversation at the table, she plays with the scattered French fries and sips the diet coke. Thoughts wander far away, full of memories and expectations too, she hasn't seen her all day, soon it will be their shared lesson and she can't stop thinking about the reasons for her absence. If something serious has happened, if she's sick or... skipping class to make out with someone, which is something almost everyone does. But with whom?

Loud laughter breaks her trance, Damian tries to hold back a laugh while Janis hugs Y/N and has a hand over her mouth, trying to stop her from laughing any louder, even though she can't stop herself. The trio are walking to their usual table, ignoring everyone around them. It annoys her to the bone, how easy it is for them to get her attention, to make her laugh. Suddenly, the newbie turns her face in their direction and she could swear she felt her heart stop beating for a millisecond only to start beating 10 times faster, watching her break away from the group and walk towards the Plastics.

"Hi, girls!" she greeted the four with a wave of a hand, ignoring their lack of response, and opened a wide smile, which surprised them with its "boldness". For a moment the blonde thought Y/N would turn and speak directly to her, try to get closer, to have her attention, but she turned to Heron and squatted down, handing over a book, dozens of post-its marking the pages "Here it is, I made some notes and the colors of the bookmarks are my reactions. Hopefully you'll like it as much as I do."

"Thanks! I'll get back to you as soon as I've finished." Cady appreciates it and returns the warm smile, however, the queen bee doesn't miss her cheeks blushing slightly at the brief interaction, making her roll her eyes in disgust "I couldn't find any other copies..."

Regina watches with a mixture of disdain and envy, Y/N should be paying attention to her and only her, not some worthless girl who has just ascended the high school social hierarchy. At the same time, her anxiety barely lets her think, she has never been so close before, she can smell the floral perfume permeating the atmosphere and see the small details of the skin she longs to touch. But there is something she longs for more than that, and that is to get her away from Cady, to make it clear that she is superior and in control.

"You know, Cady, it's admirable that you're willing to sacrifice your free time to make a library rat feel validated." she cuts in, throwing out a biting comment, a forced smile plastered on her face and blue eyes directed at Y/N "But, frankly, I think she should spend less time with books and more learning how to dress without looking like a single 40-year-old librarian."

The sharp words echo through the cafeteria, leaving an uncomfortable silence in the air and all the cliques watching the scene unfold. The girl frowns, surprised and confused by the sudden hostility, and her smile falters. She really can't understand the reason for the gratuitous verbal aggression, she hasn't done anything to deserve such treatment, not even talked to anyone other than one person there before. Her friends didn't give her the same hierarchical speech and tips that they gave Heron, because, unlike her, they didn't see any potential in the other new student to stand out in Regina's eyes and quickly knew that it wouldn't do much good considering how oblivious she is, as well as how indifferent to groups she is. A being apart from the jungle of hormonal teenagers in search of social status.

Nobody expects her to respond, in fact, they believe the opposite will happen. They expect to see a puppy running around with its tail between the legs. Regina feels the temporary taste of triumph in her mouth and waits for her to turn around.

"And you should spend less time dressing up for Coachella and more time studying history, maybe then you'll get at least a C on an elementary school exam." Y/N shrugged and turned to her new friend "Tell me what you thought of the book..."

The beginning-of-semester test that the history teacher always gives to check the students' knowledge. It's this test that she's referring to, which Regina got an embarrassing F in, although it doesn't really bother her as it doesn't count as a formal grade. In contrast to her, the youngest scored an A+ and quickly excelled in the subject.

Another time, with someone else, the blonde was going to kill with one look. This time, to everyone's shock, she throws herself back in her chair and laughs out loud, head thrown back. It's genuine. Her kitten has sharp claws and knows how to use them. She hadn't imagined that the quiet, peaceful and compassionate Y/L/N could strike back at her, with her harmless appearance and silly expressions. It's little discoveries that make everything more fun.

Regina recovers and tilts her head slightly, lips curving into a subtle smile as she stares deeply at her, challenging. She's got the newbie's attention, as she's wanted for weeks, and now that she has it, it's time to put the pieces on the table, time to play.

"Oh, I see you know how to defend yourself. Well, princess, you should know that's not how people dress for Coachella. And that I don't need to prove myself in a stupid questionnaire." then leans over so that they're centimeters apart and whispers, "Now, if I teach you, maybe you'll learn something more interesting than history..."

The bait is thrown, a flirtatious double entendre in the middle of a cold discussion.

"I don't think there's anything you can teach me that I want to learn."

Once again, she has an answer on the tip of her tongue and isn't afraid to answer the queen bee straight. Y/N smiles and says goodbye to the group, turning her back to go to her own table, she's starving and can't wait to devour the pizza bought moments before. That's more important than arguing with a stranger over lunch. All that's left for Regina to do is watch her walk away and strategize how to keep the girl at arm's length.

It wasn't the quick and blunt answers or the fearless demeanor that captivated her, nor the appearance, she doesn't consider jeans and cute knitted cardigans anything special, much less the ridiculous Star Trek t-shirts worn in PE. She desperately wants to find out what it is, maybe then she'll stop being drawn like a moth to the light. When the newbie has disappeared into the crowd, Regina turns her attention back to her own table, where her friends are sitting in silence, too stunned to comment anything. Neither was she. The idea of leaving Y/N at her feet to stroke the ego and then despise her like she does everyone else is too pleasurable.

She sighs heavily and without thinking twice takes the book from Cady's hands, staring at the title with contempt. It's a beginning.

On the other side, Janis smiles to herself and exchanges a look with Damian, both coming to a conclusion quickly. In Regina George's game, they've always wanted to be ahead and finally they have the right pawn to do it.

Note: Hi, sweeties! I'm Romy and started writing again recently, that's why I'm a little rusty. Hope you enjoyed part one and see you soon in the sequel ^^ please share what you want to read and any ideas for this short fanfic, or one shots

english isn't my first language

[corollaservant]

Introspect // Dabi x f!reader (18+)

Synopsis: The past never dies. But it can often be forgotten. (3.4k)

Warnings: yandere/obsessive behavior, captivity, stalking, violence, noncon/dubcon, jealousy, delusion, denial, implied PTSD, deterministic and nihilistic philosophical paradigm, Dabi's POV—stream of consciousness type fic

A/N: wrote this in 3hrs. majorly inspired by (and dedicated to) my fave tumblr writer, new magic wand by tyler the creator and this dabi art 🖤

Happy. You looked happy, that’s what he thought when he saw it.

Not in a way you’d been with him anyway. He didn’t know whether that was for the better. The first thing he thought was you posted him. Of course you would. He was not patched, burnt or looking like someone who escaped the psychiatric ward. Without proper clothing, jumping out of a window, frantically running towards the opposite direction. Was it a matter of appearance? Or did you just not like him enough? He wouldn’t know, you hadn’t spoken in a month. And some days. That’s when you told him you needed space. Seriously, people needed to come up with better excuses, this one was over-saturated. Was it bad he clung onto you? It’s not like you had many friends, all he had asked was more of your time. Your stupid job wasn’t even that important—he never bothered finding out what you did exactly, it’s not like he didn’t care, he just wanted you there. The rest of your whereabouts were none of his business as long as you were not conversing (excessively) with anyone else. Because even then, why would you need to do that? He could do it for you.

He had no actual job, well, classifying as a villain doesn’t get you far in life, he called himself a freelancer. Freelancer in murder and theft, maybe. But he felt like he had a share in serving divine justice. A modern vigilante so to say. Any accidental death was a misfortune, a predetermined fate. He didn’t want to pretend to be integrated in society for you to like him, he was lucky because he didn’t have to. Which then reminded him of how he met you.  

Petting strays at night wasn’t careful of you, especially with the crime rates in the city. But you had done so regardless, he remembers it vividly: You in an alley, on your knees, not caring about the dirt coming in direct contact, extending your hand. The cat was barely visible, he could only make out its yellow eyes. But then, the cat saw him, he knew cats had brilliant vision and it left you, perhaps in thought he had food you didn’t. You turned your head only to take a step back. Not smart, you landed on your ass as you opened your mouth. Did he scare you? Of course, what a stupid thing to ask. Under other circumstances he’d leave. Making fun of strangers wasn’t really his thing, not unless they deserved it, but the cat seemed to take a liking to him. Animals loved him, his mom used to tell him not to trust people who repelled them, it was a bad sign. Animals had instinct, animals could tell. He decided to pet the little guy (or girl?), as he kneeled down and softly touched its head. That was another thing about cats. They didn’t give a fuck about the staples or burnt odor, they just wanted food and the occasional touch. He liked cats. He could see himself in them. Something in the domesticity of the situation must've calmed you down because you fixed your posture and to his surprise approached him. It was still dark, you were still a woman and alone in an alley. 

‘’He likes you.’’ You told him. Had you already figured out it was a male stray? Dabi must’ve underestimated you. Your voice hid a whine, a soft protest but it was not annoyance and he shifted his gaze.

‘’Yeah.’’ was all he said. 

‘’Can I?’’ You asked. Why were you asking for permission, this wasn’t even his cat. 

‘’Sure.’’

You were so close, trying not to scare the cat and also touch him, he noticed. Your finger tried to avoid his but the cat’s head was unfortunately not that big so you eventually grazed a digit over him. You hadn’t flinched back then, hadn’t even scrunched your nose, were you not afraid? Didn’t the smell and appearance repel you? Apparently not, you seemed so invested in getting the cat to like you. It wasn’t like it didn’t. The stray ended up loving you, purring at your touch and looking in your eyes, like a man in love. And maybe it wasn’t just the cat. 

-

Within three days of your first encounter he had you on his chest, in your apartment of course, where else could he have you? He wanted to fuck you the first time he saw you, but the urge wasn’t that violent, which had taken him by suprise. You also did not seem like the type to give it up easily. He’d have to do some mental jumping jacks to get you, he didn’t worry about revealing too much though; he didn't have a lot to say, his old identity long buried away with his sensitivity. He still didn’t feel like hurting you. The first night he told you his name, Dabi, and it was so convincing, he too had believed it. You exchanged trivial information neither cared about and he offered company on your way back. He scolded you for being alone in the neighborhood, like some good samaritan, he laughed as he guided you through dimly lit alleys with zero traffic. 

‘’Want to come inside?’’ You had asked. Already? Were you that easy? But who was he to say no?

Your place was small, as expected, neat and tidy, with a few clothes on the bed, nothing bad. It smelled nice too, he noticed a small plant on the coffee table. How gullible to let him in like that. Dabi imagined how many times you must’ve been wronged in life. But you being you—it was probably something that flew over your head daily. You’d call it compromise, he’d call it stupidity.

He had fucked you in missionary that night, a true gentleman, easing his way inside and slightly towering, making sure the stapled skin under his sternum didn’t touch your sensitive one. You were soaking by the time you stopped making out and he slid a finger inside, warm and enticing, his cock hardened in primal ways. He had softly thrown you on your bed (his definition of soft wasn’t exactly soft, you had let out a groan, was it bad?) and climbed on top. You were looking at him expectantly, your eyes glassy, was that pain or excitement, Dabi would bet bucks on the latter. The way you had shyly parted your legs, not for his cock, but to fit him in between was sickeningly pretty, he could swear he was almost…nervous to slip his cock inside. And he was right, trying to fit it inside failed him two or three times while he pretended to toy your clit with his cockhead. You didn’t seem to mind, his act must’ve been convincing, you were softly moaning and your eyes dared to look at the sight of his swollen tip against your lower lips, was it pretty? He had fucked you as hard as he would allow himself—your body could take it, he had to be honest, the more he stuffed you, the more he needed to drive his cock further into your soft walls, there was no room for play pretend romance here. But you seemed to like it too, wrapping your arms around the bare part of his back, fingers accidentally trailing the stapled skin and groaning near his face. ‘’Fuck.. right there.. D-Dabi! More!’’ More? Sure, you could have more. A patched arm strongly pinned a leg above your head, touching the bed frame, as his stiff and pained cock violated your cunt, he could feel how deep he was and constantly fought the urge to spill already. As for you? Tears from your eyes fell down your now stained sheets as you screamed. Pleasure, pain, honestly he didn’t care much about what it was, your pussy clamping down on him the last thing he felt before he bit down your neck, almost ripping out the skin tissue. His cum slowly trickled out, while both of you panted, each exhale synchronizing with the clock ticking in the kitchen. 

There were no voids you could fill, he knew it, interacting with others proved to be a daily reminder. But there were voids you soothed, pain you healed just with your head resting where a heart used to be. Heart beating irregularly, like his feet in his childhood, with excitement, with a different type of eagerness. These weren’t thoughts he made that night and that’s how he knew he liked you. That night his mind was blank for the very first time, carefree from reality, from the ugliness of living—you had sex with some stained villain, who hadn’t only stained your cunt, but your sheets too, your morals indirectly and heart along the way. These thoughts came to him when he saw the photo. Space. You said you needed space. There wasn’t any relationship established, what the fuck you needed space for? Because now he had found something to give waking up a reason. Someone to regularly satisfy his cock with, someone to take away his thoughts and halt his aimless wandering. And you needed space. How lame. You know what? He could give you space. Indirectly of course. He’d still follow you around, check the whereabouts and conversations, sit outside your house and watch you get undressed. But you looked happy. And he couldn’t decipher in what way. Was he a friend? Who gives a fuck about the guy anyway, why were you smiling like that? You never posted him, that's for sure, you knew in the three months of irregular hanging out (to call it dating would be a joke) that he hated it. And so you never did, even though he wanted you to deep down. Something small. A grocery store visit, one you made when he said he’d cook dinner (he had burnt it). But you never did and now here you are posting with someone irrelevant. 

Murder wasn’t the answer. Stupidly enough it was always associated with morality. But you’d think Dabi would have none of that. He thought murder was stupid. No second of his time ought to be wasted for the next guy. Though he had to admit, he often contemplated whether you’d want this. You didn’t know shit about him. But a sudden murder would definitely have you crawling for protection. And who better than the one who committed it? He honestly wouldn’t go out of his way to do all that. He wanted you organically. It had been a long time since he wanted someone. But you sufficed. You were enough. You never asked, never complained, not even when you’d come home from work, exhausted and dirty and he was waiting at your door. Not even when you were shoved against the cupboards and fucked without remorse—you still wrapped your legs around him and whimpered on his neck. And fuck if that didn’t feel good. He hugged you in your sleep. You’d both sleep in opposite directions, you first of course, so you’d never notice he switched sides and brought a leg over yours, resting his head on your throat, feeling each breath, each pulse. You’d wake up confused at the position, he’d say he didn’t remember. These were the few nights he could reach REM state. No vivid dreams of course, a shipwreck maybe and some elevator descending, lack of control or whatever bullshit he read once. He could still dream though, a miserable reminder he was still human. 

He was always mean. The world didn’t care to mold someone into being nice. What would that even be? He thought nice meant exchange. Be nice and you’d get a pair of shoes. Act nice and you’ll get to watch TV. Treat others with respect and you’d be the family’s topic of discussion over Christmas. Sure, there were selfless people, he wasn’t crazy to think there weren’t a few of them left. You’d be his prime example. And you weren’t even stupid. But your willingness to help and give bordered exploitation. It hit him like lightning. You needed to get away, the real world was doing damage to people like you. If you were with him, you wouldn't have to think twice about being taken advantage of. He’d still be mean, you wouldn’t change that. But at least you’d sleep assured knowing that he’d never, ever demand something from you. Well…besides your presence, though he’d take you as you are, so in retrospect you’d come to appreciate him for the service. 

When he came to pick you up (abduct sounded rough—you’d also want this eventually) you had just finished work. To others you seemed fine, to him you looked exhausted. No need for mask, no need for clothes, he had everything arranged. You hadn’t objected much, he tried the kind approach first, he had only asked you to go for a ride with him in a car he stole, something you’d never know. The place was a dump, a couch covered in dust and a rusty kitchen, but you’d both make it work. It wasn’t like he couldn’t find money. He would, eventually. He remembers the way your eyes widened, what were you expecting, a trip to the countryside for some mimosas? You should’ve known better. ‘’What are we doing here?’’ You had asked, looking him in the eyes, you seemed frightened like the first time you saw him in the alley, it all ends in the beginning of the cycle, such a paradox, he thought. ‘’This is our new place.’’ He cooed as he approached you, you took a step back. There really was no reason for you to be scared, you’d grow to understand the only thing scaring you would be losing him. 

He had tried to kiss you but you protested, pushing him away, a shame really and he wanted to continue with the nice approach. Well then again nice didn’t really exist so it wouldn't have worked anyway. He kissed you, your mouth was closed but not for long before it was forced open, arms snaking around your waist and pinning you to a wall collecting condensation since god knows when. He was on your neck, kissing, biting, frenzied moves really, he needed you more than he needed whatever kept him alive. Three months ago, he stopped thinking. Now, the only thing he thought was you. He dragged you to the dusty sofa, he thought of using his quirk to burn the fabric, but ripping it out came naturally. You were laid out naked and shivering, his hands grabbed your waist—was this warm enough for you? You whispered something, maybe it was louder than a whisper, stop or whatever but he couldn’t listen. He found your cunt immediately, he was almost drooling at the sight, when was he that hungry ever again? Something about your life. People behind. You said something, he didn’t listen. You weren’t that wet like the first time, he understood. Women, they need emotional connection. Maybe a sloppier kiss to get them going. He found your mouth again, forcing you to kiss him back while he gorged on yours, a small movement in your hips, a pad of his finger back on your cunt. Wetter, perfect. He slid up a finger, curling it while his thumb grazed over your clit, you whimpered. That was a sound he could finally register. He’d bring back that smile, but it’d be for him only. One finger turned to two and eventually three, he needed to stretch you out to take him, nothing had changed since the first time, just his eagerness. His cock throbbed in his black pants, he wanted to taste you. 

You moaned and attempted to touch his hair. He didn’t mind but this wasn’t the time. He moved his head lower, spreading your thighs open and spitting on your clit. Spittle dripped down your slit and his index finger trailed it along the entrance, earning him a moan. See, you already enjoyed this too much. This would be your life now on, he’d fuck you till you wouldn’t want another thing. Captivity had a good side after all. He’d treat you so well, he wouldn’t even have to force all that domestic bullshit on you. You’d do it willingly. He eats your cunt out like it's the most sacred meal, sloppily and without coordination, pushing his tongue inside and gripping your thighs forcefully and what is this? You buck your hips up, wanting more, needy little slut. Perfect, so perfect for making him stop thinking. Making him forget. His cock must leak precum, it feels uncomfortable and he wants you to coat his tongue, he really does, but please understand, he needs you. Now. To bother removing his pants fully would be hilarious, he has neither time nor desire to do so, they’re slid down half way, his cock jumps on his abdomen and he gives it an impatient stroke—looking at you always. Let me go. You say, what? Were you stupid? Right before the best part? Right before the start of a new life? Of a life you should be living years ago? Delusional, you’re delusional. ‘’You love me, baby.’’ He tells you and lets his cockhead slip in your entrance, bit by bit until he’s bottomed out and you wince, he doesn’t move just for a second, this should be enough and then starts thrusting without consideration. Like it’s an incentive, like you’re a hole that needs filling, a mere means to an end. You protest a bit more, if you get louder he might have to get violent on you, please understand he doesn’t want this. You’ll get it, eventually. He can’t decipher the look on your face, it certainly doesn’t scream happy like in the photo. 

And then he’s reminded of the photo and a rage is born. ‘’Did he fuck you this good?’’ He spears his cock inside, you are hitting against the arm of the couch, your mouth contracts and you dampen his cock, so he must be doing something right. ‘’Tell me, did he fuck this cunt?’’ He asks and you just moan—are you dumb? Why aren’t you answering? His arms envelop your throat, pressing on the carotid artery as your muffled moans get even more constricted, he spits on your face and demands an answer. Dirty. Slut. Dirty. ‘’N-o’’ comes out your mouth. He hadn’t tainted you? He hadn’t touched you. ‘’I’m sorry.’’ He wipes the saliva off your cheeks, it’s so...wet? Are you crying? Why are you crying? He hates it. ‘’I’m sorry.’’ He kisses you while he plunges deeper, you groan and try to avoid him, stop doing this, you’re his now, it’s final. ‘’I’ll make you feel better, alright?’’ He breathes out, he knows you like his fingers, he knows. His thumb circles achingly, longingly even on your puffy clit while you clench around him, your breathing is labored, you have to cum—cum now! On his cock, show him how much you love him. A few more strokes and he has you clamping down, more tears, so many tears and you moan out his fake name, with anger maybe or an orgasm high, he can’t tell and he doesn’t care either, it’s enough. He needs to steal a kiss one last time and feel the way you squeeze and soak all around to let his load paint you white, maybe he is like a woman after all, longing for emotion, even when he has to fulfill plain instincts. You don’t talk after it, you don’t even blink, you aren’t passed out, are you? He wasn’t that hard, come on now. He has to remove himself, clean you up, the couch and he the least of his priorities. You need to get accustomed. You’ll love it. 

You never ask. About the photo. About your family. About anything prior. But that’s not something he dwells upon, he doesn’t like to look back. You still sleep next to him, well, there aren’t many other options available, yet you do. You still breathe softly in your sleep, he still hugs you from behind. You’ve become a sedative, a very much needed one. He dreams some days, an elevator falling, a shipwreck. Only, you’re there this time. 

The few days he remembers the dream, he appreciates the company. He can only hope you do, too. 

[sleepyangelkami]

Recently got into the walking dead and let me just say i’m obsessed with your carl fics. It’s alarming how many times i’ve read them lmao.

CLINGY c.grimes

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 2.4K

CARL GRIMES X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - being clingy was the most natural thing in you and carl's relationship after all the trauma you'd both endured. but when things get too much for carl, he shuts you out, leaving you to assume only the worst.

 ☆ WARNINGS - clingy relationship, crying, blood, gore, mentions of death, walkers, mean!carl, yelling, stress, mentions of violence, weapons, (2) use of y/n, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

clingy was a word you had much distaste for.

when the world literally ended, there wasn't much to do aside from survive and hold onto your loved ones. you'd been alone so long, people slowly falling, dying, leaving. before you knew it, it was just you and the group you'd found. well, they'd found you.

more specifically, he'd found you.

the boy with the sheriff's hat, eyeing you with his gun in the air. you made no sudden movements, eyes cast down on the ground as if you didn't care whether or not the bullet would fly from his gun.

it was just you in the house they'd raided. you didn't have a family, nor a group. just you, covered in blood, starved and in a kind of fetal position, knees pressed against your chest as you eyed the pool of blood surrounding you. some of your own, some from the ones before.

when you'd met the group, you had nothing. dead parents, dead siblings, nothing seemed to matter anymore. the world was gone, the people you loved either dead, taking the easy way out or leaving it to the walkers. or perhaps they'd left you, walking out when things got tough, leaving you and the remains of your family behind.

the screams from outside of the house would alert you of their soon fate afterwards.

you opened up, albeit it was slow.

you liked to believe there was an instant connection between you and the boy. he lowered his gun almost instantly, realising you weren't a threat behind the blood and glassy eyes. how he'd known, you weren't sure. he just did.

he rushed towards you, calling downstairs for his father in a panic.

you didn't speak much at first, staring when he'd offered his name. carl grimes. the boy you'd soon learn to love.

and with time, you made a new family. daryl dixon was a good idea for a father, you soon learned, carol sort of alike a mother when she snuck you an extra one of her homemade cookies.

you lost others, more fell. but you and carl never frayed.

rick and michonne would always catch you together, smiling and looking at one another knowingly. it was safe to say that it was no surprise when carl announced you were together. after all, you were practically joined by the hip.

this brings us back to the beginning. the word clingy.

you hated the word as much as you hated the death surrounding you. could anyone truly be clingy in a world like this? is anyone really too much? you liked to believe that there was no such thing as too much anymore. people died, left, separated. any day could be someone's last. you'd prefer to know that you'd spent all the time with them as you could.

if that was clingy, then so be it.

carl was used to this side of you, he catered to it, if anything, he matched it. he was used to the way you laid against him, talking lowly as he went about his tasks.

there was a grey cloud looming over alexandria at a time like this. the survivors were getting more powerful and it was plaguing carl's mind. you did your best to be as gentle as you possibly could, attempting to console the boy but it seemed no matter what you did, he would find himself bubbling over with anger.

"will you pass me the carving knife?" he cut you off mid-speech, ignoring the way your lips instantly shut closed, eyes searching your side of the table.

you weren't hanging from the boy as you usually were, picking at his hands and fingers, playing with them as though they were dough. you weren't snuggling into him while he placed his arm around you. your normal routine simply didn't exist with the past week or so.

but if space was what he needed, you were more than happy to offer that to him. "okay." you mumbled, picking up the knife you thought was the carving knife and passing it to him.

you didn't know much about knives and guns, usually sitting your head on your knees and listening to the boy speak about them. yet, every time he told you what was what and their intent, everything went in one ear and out the other. he'd often admire the way you asked a thousand questions over, one's he'd already answered. he'd only smile, answering them again.

now you realised perhaps you should have been listening.

apparently, you'd passed him the wrong one. you heard what you assumed was a swear pass his lips in a whisper as he placed the knife back to the table roughly. "what's wrong?" you questioned softly, watching him pick up a thinner knife, sanding it down with the block in his hand.

"got the wrong one." but his voice was anything but the gentle carl you knew and loved. this one was sort of mean, a tone of anger behind his words. "how many times have i explained all of them to you? i mean, you still don't know, seriously?"

it seemed as though the dark cloud over alexandria had moved into the room belonging to carl grimes. you found yourself sneaking your knees closer to your chest, just like the day he'd found you. "sorry." you mumbled, glancing away.

confrontation wasn't exactly your forté.

it didn't help that fighting with carl was a rare experience. "maybe if you just listened to me every now and again we wouldn't have this problem."

offence took over your face, brows knitting together. "I do listen to you." but when he talked about things like knives and guns it was sort of hard for you to keep up.

a scoff left his lips. "sure you do." angry carl never failed to show you a different side of the boy you loved.

you stared at him in shock, wondering where the sudden attitude towards you was coming from. you knew he was stressed, understood it even but you'd done nothing to deserve the hatred being thrown your way.

that was when the shaky, "why're you being so mean?" left your lips.

like i said, confrontation wasn't something you practiced often. you were sort of unsure of where to go in this situation.

carl breathed out a ragged breath, practically throwing the tools onto the table. you jumped slightly, staring at him with widened eyes. "maybe you're the one being too clingy." his eyes stared into yours but they didn't look like the ones you'd fallen for so deeply. "just..." breathing through his nose. "just leave me alone for a bit, yeah?"

clearly, he wasn't in the mood for any of this.

and neither were you.

you spoke no words as you quickly scooped up the bag on the ground, making a haste exit towards the door. the sound of a quick sniffle before you shut the door closed was enough for the weighing bricks to fall down on carl.

the sudden severity of the situation dawned on the boy.

he'd made you cry.

and he swore never to be the cause of your tears.

he didn't run after you, though, much too caught up in his own head. the stress of the entire situation of the saviours was weighing on him too. he crashed his elbows onto the table, shoving his head between his hands and groaning. he wondered if he'd ever get anything right.

before he could get too far with the self pity, his bedroom door swung open to reveal his father.

"what was that?" the older man questioned, not giving a clue to what he was talking about. but carl could guess. "y/n just ran out of here crying, you have somethin' to do with that?"

in a moment like this, disappointed dad gazing at him, carl would have done anything to wipe that look off his face. "dad, you don't get it―" about to explain himself, weave out of whatever this was.

"i don't care." was the answer he gave, having better things to be doing than sorting out this teenage relationship himself. "fix it." and finally slamming the door.

rick always taught carl how respect worked, he punished him when he was wrong, rewarded him when he was right. he didn't teach him to act like this.

it was night fall when carl finally found himself walking around the town of alexandria. he was sort of hoping you were out here instead of back at home for he really didn't feel like speaking to daryl at the door and asking were you home. however, he searched every nook and cranny, every place you usually went when you were upset and yet he walked back empty handed, realising you definitely hadn't been outside.

finally, he found himself standing on your doorstep, sucking in a breath before knocking on the white door, the light from above shining down on his face making him squint.

the door opened to reveal carol, thankfully not daryl. carl really couldn't imagine what daryl would have to say to him right about now. he just hoped he was out hunting somewhere or other, at least then he wouldn't get the urge to haul the boy off his front porch.

"y/n?" is all carol questioned, she was dressed in her own hunting attire and carl could only guess that she was on her way out too.

he pressed his lips into a thin line. "she home."

the woman nodded. "upstairs." before swapping places with the boy, making her way outside while inviting him in. "carl." he looked towards her. "don't make me regret leaving you inside."

he only nodded, allowing her to close the door from the outside.

finally, the silence of your house enveloped him.

you, carol and daryl all lived in the same two story house but sometimes it seemed only you lived here. all the decorations were your work, pictures and photo frames, some of before, some of now, everything screamed... you.

it was that cosiness about you that made him fall for you all that time ago.

his boots found the stairs, making his way up and finding your bedroom door, the last door on the right hallway.

your door was white, a brass handle leading him into the room he'd seen a thousand times before.

he'd imagine your room at the other side of the door, pretty pink bedsheets with matching curtains. he'd found the curtains for you on a separate occasion, you'd been over the moon. and the pretty lights that decorated your walls along with the picture frames and the stuffed animal he'd found tucked away in your bloodied back so long ago, now fresh against your bed.

a sort of comfort from the world before.

he knocked, receiving no answer.

"sweetheart? it's carl." again, he was met with the mere silence as his fingertips hung heavy against the door handle. "i'm coming in, okay?" it wasn't a question, more like a warning.

when he did walk in, he was met with a sight he'd seen before.

tears coating the edges of your eyes, sitting criss-cross legged on your bed in your favourite pijamas, pretty stuffed toy between your legs. carl had seen this before, held you through it, comforted you and swore that whoever hurt you would pay. what was he to do now when he was the cause of your sorrow?

"hey, baby." his tone was as gentle as could be, making his way to sit next to you on the bed. "missed you."

you two were so different.

carl had the stubbornness of a mule, when things got tough he found it awfully hard to apologise, not that he ever had to do it much. though, he'd much prefer for everything to disappear in a blink of an eye, forget everything ever happened and go back to the way you two were.

and when you were upset? you shut off.

"i was thinking..." still avoiding the two words that would seemingly make it all okay. "maybe next week we can go someplace? find somewhere to hang out for the weekend, like a night away." his words prodded no reaction from you. "how's that sound, angel?"

a shrug was the only thing he was met with.

your glassy eyes strayed far from his, not even attempting to look him in the eyes. he sighed, unsure of where to go. "look at me, sweet girl." long fingers entrapping your chin and turning it towards him.

there was a pang of guilt as he looked in your glassy red eyes, evidence that you'd been crying earlier that day. and he'd been the cause of it.

finally, the long awaited. "I'm sorry." and carl the stubborn mule grimes didn't just apologise to anyone. "shouldn't have talked to you liked that, c'mere." in a time like this, all you needed was comfort, that was what compelled you to move with his hands, climbing into his lap. the sound of your soft cries soon filled his ears. "i know, i know, 'm so sorry." hand rubbing circles against your back, holding you close.

you didn't mean to cry the way you did, but the weight of the day collapsing on you was enough for you to cling to the boy.

you buried your head in the crook of his neck, wisps of his own hair in front of your face, his hat steady on his head as he held you so gently, as though you were made of glass.

a wobble of your bottom lip as you pulled away from the boy, holding your hands up to your face as if to shield yourself. there was something so scary about him seeing you cry. "i didn't..." your own voice cracking. "i didn't mean to be clingy."

his heart quite literally shattered.

"no, no." his voice sort of high pitched as he pulled your hands from your face. "no, you're not, sweetheart, i promise you're not."

you sniffled at the boy. "but you said―"

carl couldn't dare to hear the rest of such a sentence. "i didn't mean it, baby, i promise." he pulled you back towards his chest, head finding his neck again only this time you didn't cry as hard, mere sniffles leaving your nose. "was bein' an asshole, baby, 'm so sorry."

it'd take a while for you to believe him.

but he'd do whatever it took.

main masterlist/carl's masterlist