#I wonder why they just can’t make it end fully with that romance after giving a deep complex plot somehow | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sgojoenthusiast · 1 year ago

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ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ KINKTOBER 2023 ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

➸ DAY EIGHT: GREEDY.

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summary: He was sent to kill you, the next heir of the throne, it was his mission and should he not follow through, there will be dire consequences. It was his most important mission and would benefit him financially in ways he could only dream of. So why can't he do it? Why do you have to look at him like that? Why do you have to be so tempting?

CW: fem reader, alternate universe (assassin! jean x princess! reader) p in v, oral sex (f! recieving), 'princess', praise, forbidden romance, pining, assassination attempts, ansgt ish.

word count: 4k

likes, comments and reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.

masterlist.

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He wasn’t supposed to want you, and he swore he didn’t.

He was given a mission - one that involved taking your life. You were the only heir to the throne, and the man that was willing to pay him more money than he’d ever see in his life needed you dead.

But he didn’t think it would be this hard - that’s not to say he wants you though, because he doesn’t. He can’t.

At first, he got a job at the palace to maintain your gardens after hearing it was where you spent most of your time.

And after a couple of weeks of rolled up sleeves, brushing his hand through his hair and giving you dangerously long and inappropriate glances, you finally had the courage to approach him - even despite knowing no good could come of it.

You couldn’t help your thoughts from wandering as his skilled hands worked through the plants and how his arms looked so strong when he worked.

Knowing that you reciprocated his initial feeling of lust only intensified his risky, carnal desires. Yet again, he didn’t want you.

Once you started talking to him, you found yourself spending far more time in the gardens than you had initially, despite it being where you spent the majority of your free time.

You skipped lessons to see him and missed important meetings and dinner after getting caught up in long and interesting conversations with him.

Every word you spoke, every syllable that fell from your precious lips, he felt himself growing impossibly more attracted to you. But he swears he didn’t want you.

Not even when you fed him those tempting glances or that intoxicating laugh and certainly not when your delicate, gloved hand would brush down his arm so lightly.

No, Jean Kirstein didn’t want you.

He needed you.

He needed you like the body needs air and fish need water - he needed you because he couldn’t live without you.

It’s why he hasn’t killed you yet. It’s why he’s risking his life for not completing this mission despite having so many opportunities to do so.

He told himself he was gathering important information and when he had all he needed he told himself it wasn’t enough.

“It’s a dangerous mission.” He told himself and his superiors. “I have to be thorough and certain or else I could end up making a mistake and getting myself and everyone else caught.”

When, in reality, he craved those moments you shared together.

He saved all the hard work in the gardens for when you’d pass by, just so that he could show off a bit. He’d stop by the library to pick up the book you were reading as you watched him so he could make conversation with you. On his way home, he’d glance into the window of the jewelers and pause briefly when he saw the rings - wondering what it’d be like to put one on your finger some day.

Fantasies, that's what all these foolish thoughts were. They were screwing with his mind and interfering with his job.

Tonight, he vowed, tonight he would kill you. His higher-ups had only so much patience, and were so close to snapping - killing him and hiring someone else with more self-control.

On the other hand, you were fully aware of who Jean was, and what his intentions were.

You were the Kingdom’s next Queen, for heaven's sake. Neither you nor your kingdom could afford stupidity.

But if by definition letting your assassin leave unharmed and free every day and night was stupid, then your reign would cease to last very long.

Your curiosity had peaked after the first night he came to kill you and had left moments after - cursing at himself with his head hung low in shame.

Truthfully, the first night you were too scared to move. You lay in your bed, eyes wide with fear at the feeling of death’s breath fanning your neck. But when you heard the sound of your window clicking shut and the breeze that intruded your room ceasing to exist, only to look up and find the only other presence in your room was the shadows that lingered in the corner, you felt a pulsating beat in your chest and the swirling of butterflies in your stomach.

All he had done was fail at killing you and yet you were overcome with the thought that he hadn’t killed you, perhaps because of some lingering feelings in the back of his mind.

You noticed the way he looked at you, yet your mind couldn’t decide between love or manipulation.

You had fallen into some sort of ritual of waiting for him every night - and the nights where he didn’t visit, you had felt a pang of sadness in your heart. It was stupid, and you were aware. There were a few instances where he had gotten so close as to press the blade against your throat or the barrel to your head. You would never flinch because you never felt that there was anything to be afraid of.

Tonight was the same as all of the others. The same ritual of laying wide awake in your bed, eyes glued to the ceiling, hands shaking with anticipation and tossing, turning and huffing throughout the late hours.

The window was cracked open as though it was an invitation. Since the first night, it was just something you had started to do absentmindedly.

You pulled the covers up closer, feeling the cold breeze brush against your skin.

At the sound of your window being pushed open further, you closed your eyes tightly.

Would it be tonight? Or would he be scared again? Is it even fear that's stopping him? Or is he simply waiting for the right moment? It’s been weeks, surely he’s missed countless opportunities by now.

You heard the sound of his shoes hitting the floor and your hands tightened around their grip on the covers. You tried to keep your breathing steady and silent, not wanting to miss any noise or indication that he would attack.

What would you even do if you feel like he will? You have to stop him, but there was something so bittersweet about dying by the hand of the one who made your heart flutter and eyes shy away without even trying.

The sound of his shoes treading across the floor only got closer before they abruptly stopped and then got further away once again.

He was pacing across the floor, cursing himself for being so weak as he ran a hand down his face and then held himself up against your dresser with his head down.

It was dark, so you opened your eyes slightly to see where he was only to see that he was turned away from you. You debated speaking up, it was risky without knowing where he stood and whether or not he wanted to actually kill you. He was far stronger than you, afterall. The only way you could possibly escape him would be behind his back.

Nevertheless, you sat up and he froze at the sound of your shifting before you started to speak.

“If you’re going to kill me, just do it.” Your voice was treading the lines of a whisper, you were tired, having hardly slept these past few weeks and it was evident in your drowsy voice.

Slowly, he turned around with wide eyes. So many questions, yet he couldn’t find his voice.

His eyes scanned your face for fear or doubt yet he couldn’t see a trace of any hesitance. You seemed so confident, as though he wasn’t holding a knife in his hand. Then, his eyes trailed down to the strap of your laced nightgown (another new habit of yours) that had slipped off your shoulder throughout the night, and he swallowed deeply as they continued to roam far past your shoulder and down your bare arm.

Your face looked exhausted from what he could see thanks to the dim candlelight he had placed in the corner of your room. How long exactly had you known he was trying to kill you? He had certainly noticed your heavy eyes and sluggish attitude but it never occurred to him that he was the one keeping you up.

“Sorry?” He stuttered out.

Biting back a smile, you looked up at him - eyes brimming with adoration and affection. “Jean, you can’t seriously be playing dumb right now. I can see you, I have been seeing you, standing in my room with a knife or gun during the questionable hours of the night. Now, you’re a gardener, so I seriously doubt that you have been acting as a bodyguard these past few weeks.”

Well, that certainly answered some of his questions. But a couple still remained unanswered. Why hadn’t you fought back, reported him or ran away? And why were you looking at him so lovingly? And why couldn’t he tear his eyes from you and your perfect skin? Why did he want to grab you and kiss you right then and there, simply because you were looking at him like he had entire galaxies in his eyes?

He moved his mouth to say something yet there was nothing he could say.

Your legs slipped out from under the covers, and at the sight of your bare thighs and smooth legs his breath hitched and his heart stopped.

Standing up, your eyes remained locked on his as you inched closer and closer to him - his body frozen and unable to back away.

Your delicate hand rose to gently brush his cheek before gliding down his arm. During the eternity you were touching him, he felt like he couldn’t move and like he would die once it ended.

Taking the hand that held the knife, you brought it up to your chest. Now, you were almost certain he wouldn’t harm you, though he hadn’t given you much reason, you felt like you could see the same spark in his eyes that was in your own.

The way your hand was so soft against his made him close his eyes in appreciation. He’d never been touched so attentively, and after so long of dreams and images of your hands touching his arms and his face and his chest plaguing him, he couldn’t let that go. He couldn’t risk not feeling that same beautiful feeling that would coursing through every inch of that body.

He threw the knife to the side of the room and the sound of it clattering against the floor echoed off the walls.

Even after he had let go of his weapon, your hand was still on his and his hand now made contact with your chest.

Your chest that was covered only from the thin material of your nightgown.

His eyes fluttered between his hand and your face. He wanted to focus on every inch of you, he needed every part of you but it wasn’t possible and that frustrated him.

So instead, he opted for dragging his other hand in a similar motion to how you did it previously up your arm and to your face. Cupping your cheek, he brought your lips closer to his and simply stood breathing for a moment.

Neither of you felt like you deserved to ask for more, so you took it instead.

His lips crashed onto yours. First, the kiss was desperate and rushed as you were consumed by the aching for him like you needed him right then and there. As though he’d disappear soon because what was happening was all conjured in your sleep-deprived mind.

After the initial desperation had faded, it melted into a slow, intense and passionate kiss in which your bodies were moulding into one and your hands were slowly exploring every inch and crevice of his body.

His hands, though trained to kill, were touching you so carefully. They glided over your hips and his fingertips danced hesitantly over your thighs - scared he was going too far.

Reluctantly, you pulled away in order to inspect his face and carve every detail into the front of your mind for you to remember forever.

It didn’t take long for him to reel you back in. He lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist and you whimpered at the feeling of his cock, almost fully erect, against your leg as it throbbed against you.

Jean sat you down on the bed yet his lips never once left yours. He was so entranced by the way your soft lips melted against his own, he couldn’t possibly pull away.

Your fingers played with the tips of his hair whilst your other hand roamed his chest and began to unbutton the top of his shirt.

His heart was speeding up and his throat felt like it was tightening. He felt guilty for wanting you, but he was so incredibly greedy that he couldn’t possibly leave without a taste.

You pulled away and looked at him for a bit as he stood up straight.

Biting your lip and holding back a teasing smirk, your hands reached the hem of your nightgown and lifted it up and over your head, leaving you in nothing but your panties.

Jean stared at you, dumbfounded and his throat dry. He didn’t know where to look, which part of you to absorb and take in first.

Your body was so perfect in his eyes so he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“God, you are so perfect.” He muttered.

“I think that's the most I’ve heard you say to me tonight.” You muttered, smiling gently at his praise and pressing your legs together in a pathetic attempt for stimulation. Jean noticed this and simply had to use it against you.

“Oh yeah? And yet, I still have you sitting bare in front of me with your legs pressing against each other - so desperate for me to touch in between them.” He smirked, his voice was low and playful as he returned your smirk. Your eyes simply widened in response and you looked away, embarrassed that he had noticed.

“Don’t worry, princess. I think it’s cute.”

There was another moment of silence and appreciation before you made your next move.

Extending your hand, you beckoned for him to come closer to you. His steps were slow and shy, yet far from hesitant. He needed you so painfully bad it was killing him with every passing second yet, he didn’t deserve you.

Leaning down, he captured your lips selfishly once more. The kiss was brief because soon he was kissing down your jaw and made his way down your throat. He was taking his time, savouring every moment and committing each part of your body to his memory so he’d never forget.

Typically, when he had done something immoral and shameful, he’d bury it in the back of his mind, never to be seen or touched. Yet this was so different. He knew he shouldn’t even be looking at your bare body, let alone touching and kissing it. Jean was selfish and he knew it but if being greedy and self-indulgent would mean being able to have you, even for just one night, there was no way he’d spare even a second thought to leaving you alone on this night.

His lips placed careful kisses down your body and your hands found themselves weaving in his hair and following him down. His mouth trailed all down your stomach and then your hips before he hesitantly looked up, begging you for permission.

All it took was a nod and a polite smile for his lips to meet the flesh of your thigh. They kissed all across your thigh and down the side of it before he made his way back up and to your soaking pussy that was practically dripping through your panties and onto the fresh sheets.

One of Jean’s fingers hooked into the hem of your panties before pulling them down and off your legs and tossing them onto the floor. He marvelled at the sight of how wet you were and how pretty your pussy was.

Just one simple, seemingly innocent kiss against your pussy was the only thing he needed to start him off before his tongue was attacking the spot between your thighs with a relentless speed and immense skill.

Within seconds, he had you a moaning mess underneath him.

Even Jean couldn’t hold back the muffled grunts that escaped his throat as he greedily lapped at your pussy.

“Fuckin’ hell, princess, you taste so incredible.”

You could only respond with the familiar sound of his name.

Your hands that were previously entangled in his hair had, on instinct, gone to grab at the sheets with a firm, fierce grip for some stability and form of control.

His tongue moved so elegantly and skillfully through your folds and poked so perfectly at your hole. It swirled and glazed over your aching clit with the perfect amount of pressure and timing.

Your mind was reeling and your back was arching off the bed at how heavenly Jean was making you feel.

The sound of slurping could have been heard from the hallway, which made you momentarily cautious and aware that anyone could walk by and hear the desperate sounds of whining and pleading - only for them to barge in and find the gardener who had been sent to kill you devouring between your thighs like it was his last meal.

These wary thoughts were short-lived because soon after his mouth was latched onto your clit and a singular finger had slipped inside of your cunt, as though he could sense your worries and wanted to erase them all.

The filthy sound of his finger rubbing circles over your hole that was desperate for release as he collected your wetness echoed throughout the room.

It was incredibly clear where his priorities were and how devoted he was to making you squirm and cum all over his face.

Your face was contorted into one of pleasure before your lips slightly parted to let out a whimper you could no longer contain as you reached closer and closer to the peak of your pleasure. As though he could sense it, Jean parted briefly in order to breathe before diving straight back in with more intensity than before, sucking and licking at your throbbing pussy like never before.

Bucking your hips up, you whined and writhed, resulting in his hands moving from your thighs to your hips and forcefully, yet so incredibly carefully like in his hands was the most precious and delicate glass in all worlds, pushing them down in order for you to keep still.

“God! Fuck, Jean- I’m so close, please keep going! I’m so, so close!-” You cursed and you chanted his name over and over again, begging for your release before the cord finally snapped and your mouth hung open in intense pleasure.

Jean smiled against your dripping cunt, not holding back from his vicious attack on your pussy throughout your high.

You swore you could see all sorts of stars and galaxies from how amazing just his tongue made you feel.

Not even moments later, he was on top of you, pushing you back slightly and taking off his shirt and trousers.

“Shit, I know you just came, but please princess,, I’m begging you. Let me fuck you. I don’t know how much longer I can go for.”

You nodded, your breathing still slightly irregular from possibly the best orgasm you ever had but you were still searching for more. Just the feeling of his hard dick pressing up against your thigh had you squirming just from its length and girth.

Slowly, he slid himself inside of you and groaned in sync with your stuttered breaths.

Your hands had flown to his shoulders as your head leaned down to see where the two of you had connected.

The stretch was painful yet it melted so easily into pleasure due to all the sweet nothings and praises he was whispering into your ear and how his finger was circling your clit in a slow manner.

“You’re taking me so well, yeah? Doing so good for me. Swear to god, this pussy was made for me, you’re so fuckin’ perfect, princess.”

His thrusts began to increase in speed and they became more forceful as well the more you moaned and let him know how amazing he was making you feel.

You watched the sight of his dick pistoning in and out of you at a relentless speed and all you could do was let out stuttered moans and high-pitched whines of his name. You're struggling to talk and are finding it to become increasingly more difficult the more he thrusts his dick directly into the right spot.

Your sight was cut when his face went to bury itself in your neck. His lips found your throat and kissed it lovingly as he buried himself deeper before he went to press his lips against your own, muffling the sounds of your dumb babbling and his own empty-headed moans.

All either of you could think about was the pleasure.

His hips slammed against yours and the smacking noises reverberated around the room.

Your hands trailed from his shoulder to his neck and then up his head as they once again found themselves intertwined with his perfectly soft hair. Jean broke away from the kiss to breathe as he rested his forehead against yours.

“Shit, princess, think I’m gonna cum.”

All you could do was nod dumbly and hope he understood you were close too.

Before either of you knew it, your cunt was squeezing him impossibly tighter and you were coming all around his dick, screaming his name and throwing your head back whilst your back arched off the bed.

Just the idea of him making you feel so good had him pulling out and finishing all over your legs and stomach, as much as he would have liked to fill you up.

Pulling out, he laid on top of you, careful not to put too much pressure on you yet he was so lost in the euphoric feeling of having reached his high and made you cum that he couldn’t move a single part of his body in that moment.

The two of you lay with each other in a daze for a while. You were so fucked-out, you hadn’t even noticed that Jean had gone and cleaned you up, switched the sheets and flipped your positions so that you lay on top of him.

You slept so soundly that night, in his arms. Feeling the most safe that you ever had in the hold of your own assassin.

However, in the morning, when you woke up, you were drowned in the feeling of dread. Most likely, this would be the last time you would see him.

What would happen now? You could offer him protection from whoever he was working for and from your own father who would be raging at the idea of keeping a murderer safe. He had nowhere to go and it killed you that he may have to flee the kingdom entirely in order to survive.

Your maids would be here soon to assist you in getting up and getting ready so he’d need to leave soon.

His body engulfed your own,you had never been warmer or more comfortable and despite not being able to see his face, you could tell he was awake and decided to call out his name.

“Jean.” You spoke. “I want nothing more than to be with you, you know? And I understand if you have to leave, but-”

“Please don’t make this harder. I need to leave fast and unnoticed.” His voice was groggy and you mentally scolded yourself for your heart fluttering at the sound.

You nodded, yet your mind never stopped scheming and putting together all the ways in which he could stay.

#fanfic #smut #aot smut #aot fanfic #aot fanfiction #aot x reader smut #aot x reader #jean x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean smut #jean kirsten x reader #🪐 attack on titan

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bijoutarot · 1 year ago

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Why They Can’t Leave You?

Pick An Image

Image 1

If your person leaves this connection they will lose it all. With you they have a sense of family. They feel nurtured, loved, and cared for with you and they are afraid to lose that. You give this person so much confidence. You always motivate them to go after their goals and that makes them feel so strong and attractive. You look at this person with wanting, loving eyes and this melts their heart. They always return to you despite their wandering eye. This frustrates you because you give them the world. If you walk away they will lose A LOT of money. You are established in your career with plenty of money. You show affection by giving gifts and paying for things. You make your partner feel like royalty. You cater to their needs and wants without question sometimes it is at your own expense. Sometimes you take away from yourself to make them happy. If they leave you they know they will not find the same love elsewhere.

Image 2

The reason why your person can’t walk away from you is because they know you are marriage material. They know you are their person. The one they want to wake up to. The person they want to spend their life with. This person has put you through hell and back. They believe that to love means to endure. They tested you throughout the length of this connection. They believe whoever wants to be with them has to prove they are the one. You hide this from your friends whenever they ask you how are things are between you. Your person admires your strength but they are still skeptical. You are their person but they are not ready. People around you have been celebrating lately. There are a lot of drinks flowing. Your friends are encouraging to go out on a date with someone new. It is time to recognize your value.

Image 3

Recently a big truth has rocked the foundation of this connection. In this image your person has no control over ending this relationship. They are desperately trying not to lose you. This truth has turned you off completely from ever taking them seriously. You have not fully walked away as yet and are abstaining from any intimacy with this person. For some of you, you will soon find out that this person is still legally married. You will begin to wonder why they approached you to begin with? Your person has been dishonest and this is causing you to change the way you look at them. The trust is gone. This person cannot walk away from you because of how loving you are. You give them the love they are not receiving in their dying relationship. They have been with this person for a long time so it is now at a point where they are staying together for convenience. This person is very selfish.

Image 4

Your person cannot walk away from you because they cannot get you off their mind. For some of you this began in the workplace. You two were assigned to work on something together and hit it off. You two share that hustler mindset. The spark is there between you two business and emotionally. I see you two potentially going on trips together in the near future. For some of you this romance is a secret in the workplace. Hooking up together after work has started to become your favorite thing to do now instead of happy hour with friends. They do not want to walk away because they are thinking about the future. They envision you as a business partner who they can build an empire with. They see you two as a power couple. You two are equally yolked which is rare. They like that you are just as busy as them. In the past this person dealt with partners who were unhappy with how busy they are because of work. With you they never have to hear, “you work too much.” With you they get a different level of understanding. They respect you more than any other partner they had in the past. They admire how sharp and intelligent you are. You are quick on your feet and catch all of their witty jokes. This connection is not something they are willing to lose right now.

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sirowsky-stories · 1 year ago

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The Old Prince

Part 4

Author's Note: Hello, again! I still can't get this story out of my head. I'm introducing a new element to it in this chapter, which we'll all get more acquainted with in the next one, but I'm adding an image at the end of this one, to give you all an idea of what it'll look like.

Description: After realizing that Oberyn hasn't been honest with you, life back home has becomes anxious, filled with questions that you fear may never be answered. But you still have to try and find some normality, and this year's Thanksgiving Ball seems like a good place to start.

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Monster Oberyn Martell x Female Reader, AU fic, eventual romance, obviously Halloween themed, reader cusses, lots of angst in this one, overprotective coworker, slightly jealous Oberyn. Word Count: 6030 Author's Masterlist

You’re back at work already the next day. Halloween has come and gone, which means it’s time to prepare for Thanksgiving and Christmas, and since you’re one of only four employees at the local holiday specials store, you’re sorely needed. September through December are the busiest months for this type of store, so every day you’re not all working is a minor disaster. But if you’re honest, it isn’t your loyalty to the job that’s responsible for your quick return or the extra hours you’re putting in.

It’s simply because the job is the only thing that takes your mind off him.

When you’re home, he’s all you can think about. You hear his voice as clearly as if he’s standing in the room with you, asking questions about your life and then letting you prattle on for hours. Something you had attributed to his kind nature and polite manners. Now though, it seems more like he was trying to learn as much about you as he could, for reasons you don’t dare to even imagine.

He’d asked you about trivial things, like what book you’d last read or if you prefer to stack your firewood bark side up or down, which you still can’t see the harm in having told him. But he’d also asked you about your work, your people, your interests and how you spend your days, the answers to which must’ve allowed someone of his age and accumulated knowledge of people, to fully grasp your personality and character.

So, why is that making you have a mild panic attack every time you think about it? Because you have no idea what he might do with that knowledge. Maybe he was just curious. Maybe it makes no difference at all what you’ve told him. It is possible that he really was just happy for the company. It’s the “what if” that plagues you.

Because if he does decide to use his knowledge against you, the odds will be entirely in his favor, since you know nothing about him in comparison. You want to believe that you wouldn’t have fallen for him (and you did fall for him) if he is indeed the monster that tried to kill you. But in truth, there’s no way that you could know that with any certainty. Just like there’s nothing you can do to protect yourself from him, either way.

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The hours are endless and deafeningly silent in the days after your departure. He has never been one to wander, to have that restless tremor within, pulling one to their feet and refusing to let them remain still. But he does now. The stone will quickly turn polished with all his wandering, should the feeling not subside soon enough, which it gives no indication that it will.

So, he wanders. Through each of the nine wings and up into each of the nine towers, yours being the tallest, and the only one he lingers in. The only place that now offers him peacefulness. He is aware that he still calls it yours, even though your stay was brief, and you will never again reside there. But it holds so much of your scent still.

He sits there for hours sometimes, forgetting time all together as he drinks in your skin, hair, the faint lavender scent of your own sheets which you brought with you to this bed. He wonders how long it will take before he will no longer recall the softness of your lips. He thinks of them often, in the hopes that the memory might remain fresh to his senses for a little longer.

But after only one week, his resolve is already faltering. He dreams of you. Wakes up screaming and drenched in sweat at the memory of his teeth embedded in your soft and tender flesh. And other times, when the dream has been wonderful… he wakes up erect, longing so desperately for the mere touch of your skin against his own, that he cannot refrain from pleasuring himself to the very thought.

This does not shame him, though. He is much too old to concern himself with the public perception of what is considered right or wrong among the many varieties of carnal pleasures. The modern world would likely frown at his history of dalliances, as he has always been a man of omnivorous taste. He has never coveted children, but gender has never been an obstacle to pleasure, in his eyes.

He has found that women offer a comfort and an emotional closeness that the males with which he has explored enjoyment in the past, have not given as freely. But this was long ago. The world has changed much since then, and gender appears to have become less rigid of late, which Oberyn finds most agreeable. Still, it’s in a woman’s embrace he has most often felt at home and wanted, beyond that of the carnal.

And then there is you. His Valya, though his only by name, not commitment. The first person ever to command such control over his mind and senses. He feels almost enslaved by your very being, as though your mere existence demands his servitude. And surprisingly, he has no objections to this.

A terrible fatigue and weariness with the centuries upon centuries of managing himself, always fearful that a moment’s loss of control will result in carnage, has taken root within his being, and will not be untethered. It festers there, making him increasingly agitated, whilst also draining him of all desire and every grain of levity that he had once possessed.

But in your company, all this turns pale, irrelevant and silenced. You have freed his heart and brought light back to his soul, and now that he has felt it once more, he cannot stand the loss. The slow, but still so noticeable, reversion to that caged and lonesome man who spends every waking moment fearing the dragon more than any man who might encounter him.

Still, you are not as a drug to him. He does not crave you the way a drinker craves the bottle, enslaved by the need to consume, dull, and forget. Instead, he feels only brightened, strengthened and awakened by you. In your presence, Oberyn comes alive, for the first time in ages feeling stronger than the beast, and therefor less controlled by it.

Every waking moment, his mind looks for ways to relate to you. Everything he sees, smells, touches, it all somehow becomes about you, because that is how dearly he misses you. And it’s getting worse. Each day, he battles with himself over whether he has just cause to seek you out once again, and every day, pushing the victory to your favor becomes that much harder.

He knows that he will eventually fail, because even if he flew to the other side of the world, there would be nothing to stop him from returning. Your house, work and people are known to him, so the day that he eventually fails to convince himself that you are always safer away from him, he will have no trouble finding you.

It was you that kissed him. He did not ask you to. And that is the carrot which forever dangles before his lips, sweetening his thoughts with the notion that you might do so again, if given a chance.

-=<>=-=<>=-=<>=-

It takes three weeks before you begin to be able to walk around outside your own house after dark, without fighting panic at the sight of every deep dark shadow, expecting to see golden eyes glowing as they stalk you. The fear is still there, but with every day that passes without any sighting of the serpent, you’re starting to become less controlled by it.

You tell yourself that he wouldn’t have let you go just to come after you again, that would’ve been pointless. But you also wonder if the woman who’d owned this house before you, and who’d vanished without a trace one day over eight years ago, had really wandered off and gotten lost like people think, or if she too could’ve encountered your captor.

All in all, over the past fifty years, the Seven Hills have claimed nearly thirty lives, half of which have been accidents when people have underestimated the danger of some of the trails, falling to their deaths over cliff-edges, or simply getting lost. But the other half are unaccounted for. People who just vanished out there. Assumed to have fallen into crevasses or perhaps been buried under mudslides. Natural events.

If Oberyn hadn’t brought you back, you would’ve become part of that statistic. Which is a frightening thought. It’s all frightening. Just the reality that dragons aren’t a myth is enough to make you shiver in your bed when you’re trying to sleep, which you haven’t been able to do much of recently. Fortunately, the holidays are tightly packed at this time of year, so you have no problems staying busy.

The city council made a brilliant move around a decade ago, with the decision to create a separate account for all profits earned by tourism. The Seven Hills isn’t a city which depends financially on tourism, so it didn’t affect the overall economy. And the brilliance of this move, lay in what that money has since been earmarked for. Which is celebrations.

Holidays, anniversaries, and other significant events are all celebrated with parades, formal balls or just big parties, all at the expense of that one account. The idea had come from a police officer, who had been concerned about a steady incline of violent crimes, and her hope had been that people who have fun together might be less likely to harm one another. Which had happily turned out to be correct.

So, when you wake up on Thanksgiving morning, having managed to scrape together a handful hours of decent sleep, it isn’t a family dinner you’re planning on going to. Not that you have any family to celebrate with, even if you’d wanted to. You were an angel baby, left at the front steps of the local church when you were just days old. The woman who’d ended up raising you had been lovely, and your relationship with her had been good, right up until she’d died shortly after you’d turned sixteen.

After that, the city had become your family, albeit a distant one. You like your coworkers and you do hang out with them outside of work now and then, but you’re not close. You don’t talk to them about personal stuff. Perhaps because you’d started your life being abandoned, that’s what you’ve come to expect from everyone, so you shield yourself from caring too much. From letting people in.

Which is why Oberyn’s betrayal hit you so hard. Because you did let him in. Against the wisdom of all your experience and even the fact that you had literally no reason at all to trust him, you’d told him everything that you never tell anyone. In just a few days, he’d somehow managed to make you feel safer with him than with any other person you’ve ever met, and he’d done that despite knowing that he was the one who’d almost killed you.

“Stop it…” you tell yourself, closing your eyes for a moment over your morning tea, because you’d promised yourself that you’re not gonna let him ruin this day.

Not Thanksgiving. Not the one day of the year specifically dedicated to remembering and celebrating the positives. This year, the city’s celebration is gonna be a ball at the old courthouse. It’s the fanciest building in town, made of stone and actually resembling a castle more than anything you’d normally associate with legal matters.

It was commissioned in the late 1800’s by a wealthy lord who wanted criminals to know just how far removed from greatness they were, so he had every piece of metal within the courthouse coated with gold and silver, and every chair was made for comfort and splendor. Except the one offered to the accused, which was just the simplest and cheapest wooden chair that could be made.

Because of the small fortune of precious metals, the house was prone to burglary and vandalism, so over time, its splendor lessened and by the time they stopped using it, some fifty years later, it was far from the opulence of its original state. But around thirty years ago, the city decided that since it’s a historic building, it should be preserved, and spent two years and a lot of money on restoring it. And while the metals are fake these days, it still looks every bit as pretentious as it was always meant to. It’s a perfect venue for any kind of party, though. And especially a ball.

You’ve had a dress picked out and ready since before Halloween, but because you’re also part of the crew for this event, you won’t be putting it on until you’re already there. It’s packed and ready, along with some makeup and hair styling stuff, all of which you’ll need to remember to bring so that you can get changed once your work is done. All the staff from the shop try to help out for these kinds of events because you’re the town’s experts on decorations, and you all enjoy getting to apply your skills on a bigger scale now and then.

The party starts at 4 pm, with the mayor of the city giving his annual thankfulness speech, which is never as dull as it sounds, because the mayor is a former standup comedian, of all things. And although he’s pushing seventy now, he still knows how to work a crowd and get a good mood going. After that, the dance begins. It’s a blend of classics like foxtrot and waltz, as well as line dance and even hip-hop, but the first one is always a traditional square dance.

Everyone who lives here knows that one, because if you chose not to participate in the first dance, hardly anyone will talk to you for the rest of the evening because they’ll assume that you’re a person who just hates fun. You know that because you made that mistake as a teenager. After the dance, when everyone’s gotten their appetite going, the Thanksgiving dinner is served, and then the program ends and people can just hang around or go home.

You arrive at the courthouse shortly before 9 am, after tending to Casper and triple checking that you remembered everything, finding two of your colleagues already there.

“Hey, Boo,” Simon calls to you as you walk in with your bags.

It’s a nickname you’ve earned over time, by managing to individually scare every one of your coworkers into falling to the floor, just by saying “boo”.

“Hey, Si. How are we doing?” you answer, dropping your stuff in a corner and then looking over the boxes of decorations.

“We brought all the labelled boxes, and Kelli remembered the glitter cannons.”

“What about the balloons?”

“Oh, yeah, Micah’s already working on those,” he says, and gestures casually towards an unspecified area of the building.

“Great, then I’ll get started on the leaves and garlands. Unless you want help with the tables?” you ask, looking out over the large open space that had once been the waiting hall and grand foyer.

It had been made to look like something out of the roman empire, with giant marble pillars recessed into the walls, serving no purpose other than to add to the grandeur of the room. The hall cuts through the entire length of the building, perhaps a hundred yards long, and easily thirty yards wide, with a curved ceiling around fifteen feet off the floor at the center, and five big crystal chandeliers dangling from up there.

It’s full of tables today, but the size of the room makes them look like something from a dollhouse. In contrast, the empty courtroom which will serve as the dancehall, looks smaller than it is.

“Nah, I’m good. You get going on that, I’ll let you know if I need your help,” Simon replies, so you smile and nod, before grabbing a box and setting off to the right where the big double doors to the courtroom stand open.

It’s fun work, getting to decorate a place like this, and while all four of you initially work separately, soon enough, you’re all helping Simon in the foyer, because the tables always take longest and requires the most precision.

“You know, you really didn’t need to bring your makeup, Boo,” Kelli says when you’re working side by side on the finishing touches of the table decorations.

“What do you mean?” you ask her, but you have an idea of where she’s going with this.

“Look, I don’t know where you went, but if it’s true that you were just lost in the woods, then you must’ve found the fountain of youth or something.”

She doesn’t sound envious or even annoyed, just disappointed, and you want to retort so badly. To rebel against the notion that you’ve lied about getting lost in the woods just to cover up a trip to some fucking beauty clinic, or whatever. But you can’t, because you can’t explain the change in your appearance.

“Oh, I found something…” you say between tight jaws, unable to hold back your frustration at the mere thought of the slithering serpent.

She can tell from your tone that asking any further questions isn’t gonna end well, so she changes the topic, instead getting back to the evening and how excited she is. But when the time comes for the four of you to get ready, you find yourself standing there in your dress, staring in the mirror at the face that isn’t yours, and yet, is somehow also the perfect you.

Not perfectly symmetrical or flawless in that kinda way, but just… perfect in a sense of natural beauty, perhaps. Kelli’s right, putting makeup on is basically redundant, since there’s nothing really to improve. And if you’d had a choice in the matter, it might not have felt so artificial. But it does. It feels anything but natural.

“Not today,” you remind yourself, meeting your own eyes in the reflection. “You can wallow as much as you want tomorrow, but today, you’re thankful to be alive and to have all the comforts you need. And for Casper, your white knight. Even though he ran away.”

When you walk back out into the grand hall, you’re met by the sight of people pouring in through the massive, double oak doors, in a slow and happily chatting procession. They’re allowed to sit at the tables if they want to, even though dinner isn’t for several hours yet, since there are only a few stone benches available throughout the building for anyone needing to rest their legs.

Everyone knows who you are, so as you make your way through the crowd, you’re met with greetings and polite nods, but also a lot of slightly stunned and gaping faces as they look you over. You try to ignore it and just focus on finding your colleagues, but soon enough, you’re hearing people whispering about you as you pass them. And suddenly you’re regretting picking such a glamorous dress.

It’s golden in color, which you’d picked because of how perfectly it compliments your skin tone, but which now makes it feel flamboyant and excessive. But it’s also the simplicity of it that drew you to it. There aren’t any garnishes, it’s just a softly flowing fabric that hugs your form in a very gentle and comfortable way. Not too tight anywhere, not restricting your movements at all, since the skirt is designed to make it look like liquid gold in motion.

By the time you reach Simon, standing at the door to welcome people, you’re regretting having come here at all today.

“Hey… are you alright?” he asks when he sees you, and while you notice that he too roams over your form with wide eyes, unlike everyone else, he doesn’t comment on it, and his gaze returns to your face with a concerned wrinkle between his brows.

“Everyone looks at me like I’m a freak,” you whisper, dropping your head forwards to not have to see anyone’s scrutiny anymore.

Ordinarily, you wouldn’t be particularly concerned about people’s opinion of you, and again, if this change had been your choice, you could’ve held your head high and ignored them. But since it wasn’t, you’re left feeling unfairly judged, and knowing that you’re also incapable of defending yourself on this matter just makes it that much worse.

Instead of trying to comfort you by telling you that there’s nothing wrong with you, Simon turns away from the crowd and gives you a long and firm hug. Because that’s the kind of person he is. He suffers from terrible anxiety himself, something he’s learned to live with and knows how to manage for himself, but which also makes him really good at understanding that words can be powerless against feelings sometimes.

You thank him before he lets you go, because he’s already made you feel better, and he just smiles in return before getting back to work. You stay there next to him, letting his calm and positive energy infect you while you try to avoid looking at any one person for too long as you help him welcome them to the celebration. The mayor is the only one who stops to shake your hands and thank you for your work, before he steps inside and prepares to deliver his speech.

As always, he executes it with practiced ease and has the crowd in tears of laughter before the end, even though he’s managed to fit in serious things like being thankful for the continued decline in crime rates, or how well the city has recovered after a local factory had burned down six months ago. He finishes by encouraging everyone to step over to the courtroom for the dance, and everyone does.

The wonderful thing about dancing is that no one cares all that much what anyone else is wearing or how they look, as they move across the floor together. It’s just about having fun and letting the rhythm take you. Still, once the square dance is done, Simon kindly comes to your rescue when no one on the floor offers to pair up with you for the next dance, which is a foxtrot.

He’s not the best dancer in the room, but again, none of that matters as the point is to let go of expectations and enjoy yourselves free of judgement. He doesn’t step away when the song ends and you’ve taken your bows, preparing to lead you on for the next one as well, but just as you take your positions, there’s a voice to your right.

“May I cut in?”

You stop breathing at the mere sound of it. The voice that’s haunted your thoughts and dreams for weeks now, the voice that heats your blood and sends shivers along your skin.

“Uh… sure,” you hear Simon hesitantly agree, since you’re not objecting, and then step away.

Still not breathing, you look up as the much taller Oberyn takes his place, confidently taking your waist and then your hand, sending sparks through you with his mere touch. He looks exactly the same, donning his customary green coat and black trousers, as suitable at a black-tie event as they’d seemed in the dark and mysterious castle.

The coat is one of those stand-up collar ones, with around fifteen silk buttons leading from his Adam’s apple down to his waist, where the weight of the fabric holds the two sides close together down to just below his knees. And the sleeves stop over the base of his hands, not at the wrist, so whatever he might be wearing underneath, no one can see it.

The only other time you’ve been this close to him (aside from the kiss) was when he’d carried you inside that first day, and you hadn’t been paying this close attention to him then. But you are now. Because you wholeheartedly suspect him of being a monster underneath those clothes. Still, not one bone in your body is telling you to run.

“Breathe, Kaivalya,” he whispers close to your ear, and your body responds as if it had been a command, desperately filling your lungs until you start to feel dizzy.

“You… you shouldn’t be here,” you whisper back, just as the dance begins and he starts to waltz you around the room as elegantly as if he’d been a professional dancer.

“No, I really shouldn’t,” he agrees, and then pauses before adding: “But I can’t stop thinking about you.”

The air flowing over his skin as he moves sends his natural fragrance straight into your nostrils, and it makes your knees weaken, stoking the heat that already simmers somewhere in your gut, clouding your thoughts with desire. But it’s that feeling that gives you the strength to push away from him. It scares you. The hypnotic way that you react to him. And that fear is enough to give you back your senses.

You step back, almost colliding with another dancing pair, and when he lets go of you, you turn and start to make your way to the exit. The air suddenly feels thick and hard to inhale, strangling you as you try to free yourself of the crowd, the music, and the strange sensation of your brain being caged by your own senses.

Reaching the brisk winter air outside of the main entrance, you stop, holding on to a lamppost at the top of the stairs not to fall over with how dizzy you feel. A hand comes to rest on your shoulder, but it isn’t Oberyn’s. Simon has noticed what’s happened and followed you outside. He’s a good guy, and you can imagine how that scene in there must’ve looked to him. But you would’ve preferred it if he’d left you alone this time.

“Who is that guy, Boo? You want me to get rid of him?” he asks, but before you can answer, you feel him twitch and pull away from you.

“You could not remove me however hard you tried, boy,” Oberyn says, and you can hear a dark tinge to his voice now.

But it’s not arrogance. It sounds more like… jealousy.

“That’s not up to me. If my friend doesn’t want you here, then you’re not staying, and I’ve got plenty of people here that’ll back me up if I ask them,” Si persists, entirely undeterred by the other man’s superiority.

There’s a slightly possessive edge to the way he says “my friend” which would ordinarily have made you feel appreciative of his protectiveness, because you’re not actually that close. But today, it makes you feel like a toy being fought over, and you don’t like it. You straighten up, having finally gotten yourself under control, just in time to see the serpent step closer to your colleague.

“That’s enough, both of you!” you call out to get their attention. “Simon, go back inside.”

“Boo-…” he begins to protest, but you cut him off.

“I just needed some air, I’m fine. Please, just go so that we can talk.”

He hesitates, throwing a suspicious glance at the other man, but then does what you’ve asked. Because in the end, he knows that you’d never agree to be alone with someone that you fear might hurt you. But the things is, you do fear that Oberyn might hurt you. You just also need answers, badly enough that you’re prepared to demand them now that he’s here and can answer you.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you either,” you admit once the two of you are alone. “But I’m pretty sure that we have very different reasons why.”

He remains at a respectful distance now that you’re not dancing, and you notice that the heat from before is starting to fade, leaving you exposed to the winter chill. You cross your arms over your waist to keep them warm. There are no sleeves on your dress, so the slight breeze is already threatening to make you shiver. Why is it that whenever you’re around this man, you’re either too hot or too damned cold?

“What are your reasons, my lady?” he asks, and his voice is soft now.

Not inviting or seductively soft, but more like it’s been subdued by worry and trepidation.

“I need to know… what you are,” you say quietly, watching his face without blinking for fear that you might miss some revealing detail.

But his features remain unchanged, and no answer seems to come to his lips, so you step closer while trying to fortify yourself against something, but you’re not even sure what.

“Are you the one that bit me?” you ask, damned near choking on the last two words, but still, he remains statuesque before you, driving your fear into frustration. “Damned it, you owe me answers, Oberyn! Tell me the truth…… Are you the serpent?”

For what seems like one endless moment, he merely stares back at you. But then, ever so slowly, a terrible sadness begins to flood his eyes. He bows his head and closes them, perhaps trying to stop the feeling, but it just spreads. Spilling into his brows and forehead, and then down to his cheeks and mouth. It’s subtle, and yet so distinct. So unmistakably sorrowful, as if drawn from the sky and the deepest recesses of the earth, filling every cell of his being with a pain unlike anything you’ve ever seen.

“I will not ask your forgiveness… I could never earn such a thing,” he says, speaking so quietly now that you have to step even closer just to hear him. “I ask only that you believe me when I say that I never wanted to hurt you.”

He opens his eyes again, and when he finds you standing closer, he backs away and shifts his hands behind his back, as if trying to keep them from reaching for you.

“I saw you running, and I tried to distract myself by going after Casper, but it was too late. I had already caught your scent,” he explains, and you’re mildly impressed that he isn’t making excuses or trying to convince you that he’s worthy of redemption.

“And if I were to run away now?” you wonder, trying to understand how the man and the beast are connected.

“I would let you,” he replies quickly, clearly eager to make you feel as safe as you can around him. “In my human form, my human instincts are in control. You are never in danger from… me.”

“But if you were to become that thing right now…?” you press on, still far from convinced of your own safety.

He thinks on that for a moment, and there seems to be something uncertain to his conclusion.

“The real reason why I sedated you for the journey home, was because I needed to fly you back,” he begins, and you can’t stop the sharp gasp and the two steps that you stumble backwards, away from him, as you hear that. “But even the beast is enchanted with you now, Valya. I want only to protect you, no matter what form I might take,” he finishes, unable to keep himself from coming closer and extending a hand to you.

“No, you stay away from me,” you warn, stepping back further.

He stops cold, and the sorrow in his eyes transforms into something you can only describe as the purest pain imaginable. It cuts and tears at your heart, because even though he did hurt and lie to you, he doesn’t deserve to suffer this severely for it. But however much you might want to ease his pain, you don’t know how, because you can’t reconcile with what he’s done to you.

“As you wish, my lady,” he says, and his voice breaks at each word.

He straightens himself, and then bows fully, dropping his entire torso halfway forwards in a perfect display of submission. And when he rises again, tears have filled his eyes to the brim.

“Always…” he adds in a barely audible whisper, and then he turns and starts to walk down the front steps of the courthouse.

The air cools significantly as he departs, and you wonder if that’s just your senses tricking you, or if he really does warm his surroundings by his presence alone. Then, just as he reaches the ground, a faint glow appears in the sky, maybe a hundred feet to his left, and seems to swoop down over him. He sees it, and stops walking to follow its journey with his gaze, as it makes an elegant turn which changes its direction towards you.

And when it does, you can see that it’s an owl. But not like any you’ve ever seen before. It’s almost transparent, and when it flaps its wings, they seem to leave entire galaxies of stars behind them, fading as quickly as they appear. It flies straight at you, landing on top of the half-pillar that makes up the corner of the stone railing to the staircase, where it folds its wings back and just stares at you.

Mesmerized by its large blue eyes, you stare back, feeling as though an infinite mass of knowledge lies within this creature, and that it uses this knowledge to judge you. It’s about the size of the golden eagle named Marahute in that Disney movie with the mouse rescuers, but the fact that you can almost see through it makes it slightly less imposing.

If it is judging you in some way, it can’t be too damning a conclusion because you feel no discomfort from the being. In fact, for the entire time it stares at you, you feel nothing at all. Then suddenly, it opens its wings and takes off with one large leap, fading into nothingness within just one little second.

“Wow…” you breathe, having completely forgotten your worries for a moment.

“You saw it?” Oberyn asks from his spot on the ground at the bottom of the stairs.

“Yeah, it was amazing. What is it?” you wonder, taking your eyes from the sky and back to him, finding him looking extremely puzzled.

“She is the Sky-spirit: Caelum. But…… humans cannot see her.”

You stare into his eyes while his words reach you, and the implication behind them slowly sinks in. The temporary reprieve of your emotional turmoil is wrung from you with ruthless force, and this time, it’s your eyes that are suddenly brimming with tears, your frame that’s brutally tortured by the inescapable truth.

“What did you do to me…?” you accuse, glaring at him now because all you have left to turn to is anger. “What am I? What did you turn me into?”

But as horrible as you feel, as much as these thoughts are plaguing you, your feelings still somehow pale compared to the enormity of his. The knowledge that he’s robbed you of your own reality, seemingly without him even knowing how or understanding why, is mercilessly demolishing him from the inside.

“I don’t know…” he confesses. “I am so deeply sorry, my dear… I have no answers.”

Your tears fall as the cold finally creeps into your blood and makes you shiver. Hugging yourself, trying to come to terms with the thought that you don’t know who you are anymore, you feel so lost. But then the air around you is warmed up once again, and you look up to find Oberyn before you. He takes you in his arms and hugs you close, flooding your body with that same heat as before, even now when you’re in too much distress to feel anything good.

“But I will not stop until I have found them,” he promises, then he kisses your temple, pulls away, and with a gust of wind, he’s suddenly just gone.

Part 5

The Ten Spirits of the World Air - Forest - Water - Stone - Night - Autumn - Winter - Spring - Summer. (No, I didn't miss one. You'll see.)

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! If you wish to be notified when this story is updated, follow @sirowsky-stories and turn on notifications, or just ask nicely, and I'll tag you.

@kittenlittle24 @joelswritingmistress @pedrostories

#oberyn martell fanfiction #oberyn martell x female reader #oberyn x reader #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones au #modern!au #halloween writing #halloween fic #spooky season fic #spooky season #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #sirowsky stories

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acourtofthought · 1 year ago

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Gwyn and Lucien aside, I’m really surprised anyone still ships A + E after that bonus chapter (to each their own, I guess). We get the info from Az himself - they don’t talk. All they’ve done is share a few looks and brush fingers. He’s never thought of anything other than having sex with her. That’s it. And literally nothing was standing in their way for, what? 2 years?

Az lusting after her is NOT and has never been the issue. It’s the fact that he can’t say anything of substance about her, especially when we compare his chapter with Nessian’s bonus chapter.

I think people are still be hanging on that ship because any other author would have made them endgame. No banter, flat personalities when they’re together and (in my opinion) 0 chemistry (physically looking good together doesn’t count). All they have going on is an extreme light/extreme dark aesthetic. That’s all some authors know how to write.

It’s also VERY funny how Az’s chapter (or the second half of the chapter 💀 ) is the only bonus chapter that’s apparently NOT canon. I had no idea SJM was writing fanfiction of her own books.

I guess we all have different ideas on what we find romantic and what our ideal fictional romance looks like.

But when I look at SJMs writing, I have to agree. How can anyone find Azriel's thoughts about Elain romantic, knowing what SJM thinks is romantic? Sexy? Sure. Lust can stand on it's own in some cases.

But he doesn't give her credit for ANYTHING in the bonus chapter. He doesn't show any sort of respect for her. He doesn't acknowledge anything that makes her special. He focuses on not getting a bond rather than wanting to be with her because he has actual feelings for her.

Saying, "What if the Cauldron was wrong?" because his brothers were given two of the sisters so why wasn't he given the third is problematic when a real declaration of love would look something like, "I don't care that Elain was made mates with Lucien, what I feel for her means more than what fate decided".

And you're right, nothing was standing in their way then and nothing is standing in their way now (not even Rhys) if they really wanted to be together. All it takes is sitting down with Lucien and then sitting down with their friends and explaining why they want to be together.

That is honestly as complicated as it gets.

The fact that some feel Elain and Az instead need to sneak around like children in order to be together seems strange when the other option is them just being ADULTS about it and having actual conversations with others to explain what they want. That right there puts a stop to Rhys's concerns, Lucien wondering if Elain still might want to get to know him, Cassian wondering if Az is now fully over Mor.

To me, it really doesn't matter that SJM included mate language for Gwynriel at the end because even if they are mates, that doesn't mean they HAVE to end up together.

To me the biggest thing I took away from that bonus chapter is that Az did not make comments about how far Elain has come since being made, he did not give her credit for her part in the war or saving not only himself but Cassian and Nesta, and he didn't think anything about her humor, how she made him feel, etc. You know who he thought those things about though? Gwyn. This female he's only just getting to know, he acknowledges how far she's come since Sangravah, he notes her charming irreverence, he shows admiration for her form while cutting the ribbon.

He is looking at Gwyn as a person and noting what is unique about her separate from himself where Elain is simply an extension of the problems he has with himself. That he didn't get a bond with a sister like his brothers, that she's too pure for his tainted self, that she's too innocent for his darkness, etc.

That is a trope, I get it. Where the bad man ends up with the one bit of shining light in his dark world, being the one thing that absolves him from all the bad he's done. But that has not and has never been SJMs style and I'd be shocked if she changed her preferences now.

#anti e/riel #gwynriel

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scratchybeardsweetmouth · 2 years ago

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WIP Game!

Rules: Write the latest line from your wip and tag as many people as there are words in the line. Make a new post, don’t reblog. Tagged by @clarasimone and @rileypotter17

Hello both of yous wonderful writers!

Just going to comment on what you both posted because they’re really nice.

“I would have swooned but for the fact that, the very next second, I found myself buried under snow.”

Without much context I am loving this. Reminds of that scene in Beauty in the Beast where Belle throws a snowball at the Beast unexpectedly after the latter was so happy feeding the birds. In a few words there’s development of affection along with the mystery of the next - a humorous take or a slight panic of seeing only white. XD

"Ah, well, why don't you let me deal with Tyrion? But, love, I can't really concentrate on that when you are standing there, naked and gorgeous, now can I?" He smiled at her and the pure, genuine happiness on his face made her put down her phone and take a running jump back onto the bed to join him.

I like the mix here of the attempt at seriousness at the start, only to be clearly distracted and drawn in that the one spoken to gives in to the moment to allow themselves a little more romance together before tackling the the issue that they know they'd have to face later.

------

I super duper rarely write and I don’t know if below would even qualify as WIP but it’s the last little rough brainstorming thing I did when @youcancallme-ray had ‘old married couple (Jorah due to being much older, might be having declining health and Dany becomes his caretaker - this one is angsty, if you are in the mood for that)’ as a thing for the jorleesi exchange last year but I never got to fully writing it.

Jorah carries logs into their cabin regularly, one time the logs fall because of a sprain or crick on his back. Dany comes over:

“Jorah-

“I’m fine.”

She wanted to ask him about his back but decided not to, he doesn’t like it when a weakness is laid bare/exposed, but she was concerned. She hoped the focus on the logs would do. “Do you want me to carry some of those?”

“No.”

Guess not

“I’m fine.” He said, as he stood upright and looked at her in his full height.

As she followed his face upwards to react with a heavy sigh, she masked it instead with a polite nod.

“You know I’m here if you need me.” She briefly said, and turned to tend to the garden. Barely two steps taken, she heard him mutter with disdain.

“You always are.”

“What did that mean” she confronted him, saying the first word with her back on him and the last with her fully facing him again. Her tone was leveled, but she couldn’t keep her eyes from burning his.

“I had only meant… It’s not important.”

“Yes it is.”

Do you tire of me? – dany wanted to ask him. He started, in a much gentler tone than the first. ‘You’re always here. As you will when my body wanes, when my mind falters, when my heart fails. Dany wonders where he’s going with this. “I’m supposed to care for you until the end of our days, not leave you alone in suffering.”

#clarasimone #rileypotter17 #tag games #not sure who to tag #because i see you ladies covering the jorleesi fandom writers haha #and also the amount of words on this concept thing is unreal for tagging

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forfoxessake · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 166 times in 2022

129 posts created (78%)

37 posts reblogged (22%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@oldstuffnewstuff

@girlgerard

@mcrbois

@teachmetokill

@iero

I tagged 164 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#100 movies challenge - 110 posts

#movies seen in 2022 - 110 posts

#movie review - 89 posts

#100 movies - 22 posts

#oscar nominee 2022 - 18 posts

#review - 16 posts

#gerard way - 15 posts

#my chemical romance - 15 posts

#movies seen in 2021 - 7 posts

#documentary - 7 posts

Longest Tag: 55 characters

#reasons why gerard would make a great newsletter writer

My Top Posts in 2022:

[02] Harry Potter 20th Anniversary: Return to Hogwarts

Directed by Eran Creevy, Giorgio Testi, Joe Pearlman

As a fan, I absolutely loved this. Of course, there wasn't going to be anything new, it was not the point. It was a time to remember what they experienced throughout those years and it's wonderful to be able to look back and see things from a distance. Unfortunately, due to covid this probably was smaller than could have been but not any less enjoyable.

14 notes - Posted January 10, 2022

[45] Tom At The Farm (2013)

Directed by Xavier Dolan

The thing about this movie is that you are constantly waiting for something horrible to happen. The tension is palpable. It's sexually charged, it's angry and mad and without a reason. Tom is at the farm and he can't get out of it.

18 notes - Posted April 12, 2022

[41] Belfast (2021)

Directed by Kenneth Branagh

Remembering your own past is a thing that seems to be popular with directors currently. I like this trend, and I like that Branagh did it slightly differently. He goes further back and tries to remember something from his childhood that at the time he wasn't fully able to understand, and he doesn't try to make it make sense to us. It still feels like living in his memories, a bit confusing, sometimes fantastical, often a bit scary. Grown-ups can be magical and so big, almost unreal characters. It's an honest trip down memory lane, one where you don't ask your family to explain things how they really were.

20 notes - Posted April 7, 2022

[14] Pleasantville (1998)

Directed by Gary Ross

This was one of the movies I always stopped everything I was doing and watched whenever it was on tv after school. I wasn’t old enough to understand what it was talking about or the more complex themes but I still enjoyed it a lot.

I was surprised to still find enjoyment and beauty here, it’s a very original work, filled with practical effects and what is a simple plot at first but it gets more and more exquisite when those tv characters start to feel like real people and you can’t stop the changes. We can’t go back to seeing the world in black and white, pleasant.

24 notes - Posted January 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

You know what.

I truly am an #MCR5 believer but I don't think it's happening on #MCRLA5 - specially now that the main buck of the tour is almost officially over. No more tour buses and all.

This #Return tour has been about them reconnecting with My Chemical Romance, not just us, but them relearning nearly all of their songs, giving them new arrangements, new lyrics, it means something different now.

They choose to give us a different set list every single night, it’s incredible rare and precious what they have done, it show us that they are truly committed, it’s far beyond a “let’s make money off people’s memories tour”. They didn’t need to do that to have a successful tour and yet they choose to - even now so close to the end - add songs that they haven’t played yet and even a song they have never played live before.

It’s watching them become a band again, and I really think they needed to learn how to be that again, to learn all of their songs, revisit who they were, to find out who they want My Chemical Romance to be from now on.

Whoever that is going work out it’s up to them, maybe it won’t be as intense as they were before (up until BP), but it will special.

24 notes - Posted October 15, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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rendy-a · 2 years ago

Note

I seriously love your continuation of Aurora’s Pet AU and you got the feel down pat!💕✨

I’m wondering how the Pomefiore Trio would deal with a sweet, unassuming master having a two-faced S/O that acts like an angel in front of them (offering treats and inviting the pets to dates) yet make passive agressive remarks whenever their master isn’t there and it comes to the point they overhear the S/O pull their master aside to make them choose between the S/O and the pet. Would they be appalled and burst in or respect their master’s decision, which ever it may be. For context, the pets have been adopted long before their master and the S/O even dated.

I’m so glad you are enjoying my take on the Pet AU. Here is your request, enjoy!

An Ultimatum with Pomefiore

When you met your S/O, you thought you were just the luckiest person in all of Twisted Wonderland. They showered you with affection and treated your pet like a part of the family, just like you did. You liked to tease your S/O that you’d need to be careful or soon your pet would have a new favorite human! That is why it was so shocking to you when your S/O tearfully told you they felt like an outsider in the family. That your bond with your pet was keeping you from loving them fully. If you want to be a real family, you have to put them first! It is time to make your S/O a priority and get rid of your pet so you can be a proper couple! Your S/O was shouting so loudly, you wondered if your pet had heard…

Vil is too proud to admit that he has heard your fight and is worried about the outcome. That day you chose him at the menagerie over Neige all the other trophy pets was one of the best moments of his life. Now he is waiting to find out if you’ll still choose him. If you don’t…well he just can’t think of what he’ll do.

How does Vil behave in the days following? He is stressfully waiting for you to make your decision but also trying to pretend not to know about it. That doesn’t mean that he is keeping silent though. Conversation is a trophy pet’s weapon. You seem to have many enlightening little chats with Vil over your morning make-up routines or afternoon tea. Maybe next summer we should all take a vacation at a health spa. I’m sure S/O won’t mind, they are always saying how much they care about our health. Not that you’d know that from the way they keep forgetting about your allergy. I’m sure that isn’t because they don’t care enough to remember the little things about you, right master? Is he being as catty as a teenage girl in a high school drama? Yes. Does Vil care? Absolutely not.

At the end of the week, a moving company arrives and starts packing up your S/O’s things; your Ex never sets foot in the house again. You say nothing to Vil about it but you both know what happened. After a week of stress, Vil is finally able to relax again and you can visibly see the tension ease out of his shoulders.

That evening you have a movie marathon; its one of your shared hobbies to watch movies and critique the acting, sets and costumes. Today, Vil has chosen an assortment of movies featuring loyal pets; not a hint of romance at all. During the happy scenes where a pet reunites with their beloved master, Vil reaches over to pat your hand as though to say, Thank you for choosing me master.

Rook is another one that isn’t going to act emotionally. He will quietly observe your reaction to see how you decide to react (your conflicted expression is tres bien!) Unless you specifically ask him about it, he will keep himself from interfering. If you do ask him about your S/O, he will give you surprisingly detailed data.

See, Rook has been very suspicious of your SO from the beginning. He knows what a sweet naïve master he has and thinks of himself as a bit of a protector to you. After that first questionable comment your S/O made while you were gone, Rook has been collecting observations on your S/O. And by collecting observations I mean spying on them in a major way; video, audio recordings, interviews with former classmates, dental records…everything.

When your former S/O comes to pick up their things, they will be escorted out by a smiling Rook. He takes the time to let them know just how much information he has dug up on them and suggests they consider not bothering you in the future if they don’t want those unpleasant details to become public knowledge. Depriving your S/O of their prey was a satisfying game indeed, one Rook was amused to play.

Was Rook concerned you might not have chosen him? No, he knew you’d choose him. After all, you were the kind of odd person to go to a pound and adopt a strange pet like him in the first place. You and I master, make a perfect pair. Our bond is beaute 100%!

As soon as he hears their ultimatum, Epel bursts in and starts yelling at S/O. What do you mean he is in the way of your family? Didn’t S/O always say Epel was like a family member? Was all that a lie? There is no need for you to say anything, Epel will yell every question you could have asked and then some.

Does he keep it to shouting? Only if you are lucky. You better be prepared to hold Epel back like a tiny worked-up chihuahua. He is fully ready to throw down with your S/O! Don’t think he will let S/O get away with saying such hurtful things!

When your S/O starts yelling back at Epel, you get into protective pet-parent mode. Now both you and Epel are shouting at S/O in your countrified speech. Listen here you poor excuse for a horse apple, you ain’t got nothing under your hat but hair if you think I’m getting rid of my sweet Epel! You think we can’t see you lyin’ like a rug, you varmint? Congratulations, your former S/O now thinks you are crazy and will gladly never speak to you again.

Afterwards, expect to need to comfort Epel. He just gets so worried about you leaving him someday; no one understands him like you. He isn’t crying, you’re crying! Give him some hugs and head pats. When he is fully calm, he is going to want to know more about where you get your insults from (and can you teach him some?) Hey master, I guess we just go together like peas and carrots, huh?

#pet au #twst wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland #epel felmier #rook hunt #vil schoenheit

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astaroth1357 · 3 years ago

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How Often They Worry about MC…

For those who don’t know, I have a little dog named Charlie and she is a large portion of my world. There's no need to be alarmed, my dog is fine, but there are days where I hold her and all I can think about is how much I worry about her health down the line… I suppose we often do that for the people we love, particularly the ones who may not last as long as we will. Take that as inspiration if you'd like.

Lucifer

Near constantly.

If you tracked his blood pressure on a grid, you'd see it start to continuously rise about when he decided they were worth having in his life.

Lucifer is the eldest sibling to a whole crew of brothers so he's no stranger to worry. He worried about his brothers when they were young, he worried about them after the Fall, and he still worries about them now (even if he's less open about it).

But a part of him knows that his brothers can handle their own, at least to varying degrees. The MC, though? He's far less sure…

They've proven rather resilient, but also headstrong and reckless. Neither of which are good things to be in a place this dangerous...

If Lucifer isn't careful, he can catch himself staring at a wall or window just wondering where they are and if they're doing alright… If he called them every time he had a passing worry, their inbox would be full by the end each week.

He holds himself back because he doesn't have the time to constantly protect them, but that doesn't stop him from sending a text once or twice a day. They better respond or he'll start (secretly) panicking.

Mammon

He forgets their mortality from time to time, but every time he remembers it hits like a ton of bricks…

Mammon is a pretty "in-the-moment" person. He doesn't spend a lot of time dwelling on the future, but whenever he does the thought of losing MC always comes back to him again and again.

Like. It's gotta happen eventually, right? They're human, humans die, hell they don't even live that long to start with!

The MC can always tell when Mammon's getting worried because he'll get uncharacteristically quiet and pace around or hover by them…

Every little injury or strenuous task will suddenly seem like too much to him as well.

If they need to carry some boxes, he'll carry them all.

If they have to jog to class, he's carrying them.

If they so much as get a papercut, he'll have a heart attack.

It's not very hard to get Mammon out of these funks - he really does want them to reassure him that they're okay - but he's never going to get fully over it…

Not until he can steal whatever top secret immortality formula Solomon must have used anyway… He'll get it off that bastard eventually.

Leviathan

Thinks about it so often he has to actively try not to just to get any peace…

He dodges his fears for MC like a protagonist dodges lasting consequences. Every time he feels one creeping up, he's always got a distraction waiting…

"Hey where's MC at? I hope they didn't fall into the riv-OH HEY CHECK OUT THIS NEW GAME!!"

"What are they doing over there…? That looks hard, what if they bre-WAIT DIDN'T MY FAVORITE VOICE ACTOR JUST RELEASE A NEW PODCAST???"

"What if the MC dies tomorrow and they leave me all alo-DEVIL FIGHT 200! YOU CAN'T BEAT DEVIL FIGHT 200, LET’S BREAK MY HIGH SCORE!!"

Cut him some slack, his psyche cannot handle the idea of losing them on top of everything else he grapples with every day.

If, on the rare occasion, he does let himself fall down that rabbit hole he becomes extra clingy and practically begs MC not to leave his room… like ever. He'd bubble wrap them if he could.

Anytime they get really hurt or really sick he refuses to leave their side even if it means he has to awkwardly sit on the floor. He just needs to be able to glance at them every so often to be sure they're alive… Still breathing?? Phew…

Satan

He worries, preps, rationalizes, then worries again…

For Satan, knowledge is power and every scrap of information he can learn about MC is more power he can use to keep them safe and healthy.

Yes, he will want their medical history. Yes, he's going to need a list of prescriptions. Family members too. And no, you do not get a choice.

He'll read up on as many things as he can - pawn medical journals off of witches and get magical alternatives from Solomon.

The cycle usually goes:

1. He's lying awake at night because he just heard about some terrible bacteria that makes human's skin peel off or something.

2. He does all the research he can on this bacteria, its treatment options, best prevention methods, etc.

3. Gets right about to break out the rubber booties for MC to wear around, then realizes they have a very slim chance of catching said bacteria since it's only native to incredibly remote parts of Indonesia.

4. Feels instant relief that MC will probably not catch flesh-eating bacteria and can finally sleep again…

5. Hears of some other human medical horror from Solomon and starts to worry…

It's a vicious cycle indeed… But at least he's getting a lot of medical training. Soon enough he'll be the Devildom's version of a human vet (which I guess is just a doctor, come to think of it. 🤔)

Asmodeus

Lives so "here-and-now" that he doesn't remember often, but when he does it's always heartbreaking…

Asmo usually tries to worry about things as little as possible. It’s bad for the skin, you know? But when the MC is involved, all of that goes out the window.

Like how a delicate blossom eventually wilts in the snow, the MC is bound to leave them in time… Usually there's supposed to be something beautiful in that kind of tragedy, but perhaps he's just too close to them to find any romance in it.

The thought of their death gives him breakouts and anytime they get hurt or sick he's the first brother to offer them comfort. Every time.

Because he doesn't feel like he's as physically strong as he brothers, he tries to make up for it by minding their health in other ways. Anything to keep his MC strong and beautiful as always!

If Asmo is in a worrying mood, then he may also compensate by trying to take the MC out to a party or some fun event. Why sit around worrying by himself when he could be making memories with them now, right?

Beelzebub

It comes in waves, mostly at night.

When your thoughts throughout the day are mostly, "I wish I wasn't so hungry," it doesn't afford you a lot of time to think about much else.

In a way, it's a good thing since he experiences a lot less stress. But those worries are still there and they mostly plague his dreams…

Beel doesn’t feel hungry when he's sleeping, so a lot of his fears will make themselves known overnight. An injured or dying MC is often in his rotation of nightmares though, of course, he'd rather it not be…

After having one of these dreams, his first instinct is to always make sure the MC is okay. If they're with him, he'll hug them and check their heartbeat. If they're somewhere else, he'll go to them or shoot a text.

He has woken up without realizing his nightmare was all a dream though, and usually it's up to Belphie or MC themselves to console him while he cries… It's so heartbreaking, sweet boy just puts a lot of pressure on himself to be sure they're safe…

When he worries, it's like they're the most beautiful and expensive China set in a room full of bulls and hammers. If he could tape them to his side, he probably would. He gets scared for them that much…

Belphegor

More scared about it than anyone else in the House.

Despite his calm demeanor, Belphie is truly afraid of losing his loved ones beneath the surface… He's already lost one of his most dear siblings before, going through that again may just break him.

Unfortunately, he's also felt just how fragile the MC is firsthand... He's not even the strongest of his brothers, yet he was able to snuff them out so easily… Who's to say someone else won't try?

Like Beel, MC's death is a recurring nightmare for him but he can usually shake off his dreams fairly well, if not change them mid-sleep. More scary is when something is actually wrong with them or they're not feeling well.

Belphie always sets his inner laziness aside for the MC when he can. If they get sick, he'll usually be right along with his family to take care of them - even if he has to skip school to do so (not that he cares about class anyway).

When he's worrying about them, he tries to play it off at first, but soon enough they'll notice him acting overly concerned and losing sleep… Best to calm him down before he starts getting cranky.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons

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ghoulgirlwrites · 3 years ago

Text

Oh Baby, Let Me In

Pairing: Frank Iero x Reader

Era: Bullets

Requested by: Anon

Word Count: ~2400

Summary/Request: if your requests are still open, would you be able to write a frank iero x reader fic in bullets era and the reader is gerard and mikeys little sister and frank likes her but doesn't want gerard and mikey to find out bc they'd get really mad?? (I hope that makes sense lol)

A/N: So sorry you had to wait so long for this, I hope it’s worth the wait! I got a little carried away with this, but I’m really proud of it. Enjoy!

You’d just gotten home from your last class of the day, when your older brother, Mikey, ambushed you.

“You’re coming to band practice later today, right?” He asked.

He and your other brother, Gerard, had started a band called My Chemical Romance with their friend Ray. You thought it was kinda cool, but you didn’t want to give your dorky older brothers too much credit.

“Why? I know what you guys sound like,” you whined.

“Well, we’re adding a guitarist, this really cool guy who does stuff Ray can’t do!” Mikey said.

You sighed. “Alright, fine, I’ll go.”

They’d been renting a practice space a few minutes from your house, so after dinner, you all headed there. Ray was already there, talking to…a really cute guy?

The cute guy in question turned fully towards you when he heard you and your brothers come in. His bright hazel eyes locked onto you and his jaw dropped slightly. You self-consciously tucked a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Frank, this is our sister, Y/N. Y/N, this is our new guitarist, Frank,” Gerard said, gesturing between the two of you.

Frank broke out of his apparent stupor to take your hand in his, shaking it lightly.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said.

“You too, Frank,” you said.

“Alright, if you’re done mooning at my sister, can we get started?” Mikey asked, causing you and Frank to blush.

Frank nodded and went over to where a guitar sat in a stand. He picked up the guitar, slinging it around his neck.

Throughout the entire practice, you couldn’t keep your eyes off Frank and it seemed like the same was true for him. He kept his eyes on you pretty much the whole time, even spacing out when someone spoke to him.

When band practice ended, Frank bounced over to you, a grin on his face. “What did you think?”

“You were awesome,” you said. Your cheeks burned as you wondered whether he was asking what you thought about the band as a whole. “I mean…you make my brothers’ band sound halfway decent.” Nice save.

His grin widened, the corners of his hazel eyes crinkling. “Thanks! I think I’m a little less nervous now than when I first auditioned.”

You nodded. “That’s good.”

“Maybe that’s because you’re my good luck charm,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You blushed. “Maybe.”

“Maybe you’ll just have to come to all our practices and gigs so I don’t suck,” he said.

“You won’t suck,” I said.

He tilted his head to the side. “Will you come anyway?”

“Sure, Frank,” you said.

“Y/N, come on, it’s time to go,” Mikey called.

“I gotta go, they’re my ride home,” you said.

“Kay. Bye, Y/N.” He waved at you.

“Bye, Frank,” you said, returning his wave over your shoulder as you walked away.

You climbed into the backseat of Gerard’s car, which was strewn with art supplies.

“Frank seems nice,” you said.

“He is. But stay away from him,” Gerard said, staring at you through the rearview mirror.

You crossed your arms over your chest. “You guys wanted me to meet him so badly, but now you want me to stay away from him? Makes sense.”

“We didn’t think you guys would hit it off,” Mikey said.

“Guys, I’m not twelve, I’m an adult, I’m allowed to flirt with a cute guy if I want to,” you said.

“Yeah, you guys flirt, then date, then he breaks your heart, we break his nose, and then we’re back to looking for a rhythm guitarist,” Gerard deadpanned.

“Well, lucky for you, none of that’s going to happen,” you said.

“If he asks you out, will you say yes?” Gerard asked.

“We just met!”

“Will you?” Mikey probed.

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Well, don’t,” Gerard said.

You groaned, hitting your head against the headrest behind you. There was no getting through to those two. You loved your brothers, really, you did. But they were way too overprotective, especially when it came to you and their friends. It was like they didn’t trust you to hold your own or something. But you’d prove them wrong. If Frank was interested in you, you decided to go for it, and there was nothing Gerard or Mikey could do about it.

A week later, MyChem had their first gig with Frank as a member. You’d been to another of their practices, in which Frank flirted with you again, but he was more cautious, as if he too had gotten scolded by your brothers and didn’t want to risk anything. But you couldn’t deny that the forbidden nature of whatever had sprung up between you and Frank made it all the more exciting.

“You nervous?” You asked Frank as he and the others prepared to go onstage.

He grinned. “Not with you here.”

Gerard cleared his throat loudly and you rolled your eyes at him.

The band played an incredible show. You couldn’t take your eyes off of Frank, the way he put everything into his performance. Afterwards, you were hanging out with them outside the venue. It had been warm outside when you’d left the house, so you hadn’t thought to bring a jacket and were now regretting it.

“I’m cold!” You whined.

“Well damn, Y/N, I don’t control the weather,” Mikey said.

“Here, take my jacket,” Frank said softly, shrugging out of his dark blue jean jacket. You’d been admiring it earlier, noticing it was covered in pins. He draped the jacket around your shoulders and you gratefully shoved your hands into the sleeves, ignoring the looks Gerard and Mikey were giving you. The jacket smelled like smoke and coffee.

“I like your tattoo,” you said, brushing your fingers against the anchor above his right elbow. His skin erupted in tiny goosebumps beneath your fingertips.

He bit his lip, looking down at your hand as his cheeks turned red. “Thanks. I’m planning on getting a Black Flag symbol soon. I really like them.”

You felt your eyes light up. “Me too!”

He grinned and looked down again. That was when you noticed that your hand was still on his arm. Worse, Mikey and Gerard had noticed and didn’t look happy. You hastily brought your hand back down to your side, blushing just as red as Frank.

A few days later, Gerard and Mikey had dragged you to another band practice, although you were more than happy to tag along this time since it meant you got to see Frank, even though it also meant Gerard and Mikey would be watching you like hawks.

Once again, you were captivated watching Frank play his heart out. It also seemed like he couldn’t keep his eyes off you either. Sometimes you’d catch his gaze, making you both blush and look away momentarily.

After practice was over, everyone was standing around talking. Frank headed towards you, grinning. He brushed past you and you felt his hand near your hip, slipping something into your jacket pocket. You looked up at him and he winked, putting one finger to his lips, which were still curled up in a mischievous smile. He turned to talk to Ray, who was standing a few feet away from you.

You glanced around to make sure Gerard and Mikey weren’t watching, since you weren’t quite sure what Frank had put in your pocket and you had no idea how they’d react if they saw it. Thankfully, they were busy talking to their drummer, so you carefully extracted the object from your pocket.

It was a cassette tape with a note taped to it.

Dear Y/N,

I made you this tape because I really like you, but I knew I couldn’t say anything because Gerard and Mikey are already on me about it, so this is a close substitute. Some of these are songs I know we both like, some are songs I think you’ll enjoy, and some are my own songs that I may or may not have written with you in mind. I hope you like everything!

XOFrnk

You read the track listing he’d written out, finding songs from Thursday, Misfits, and Black Flag, among others. Then there were two songs listed that you weren’t familiar with: All I Want Is Nothing and She’s the Prettiest Girl At the Party and She Can Prove It With a Solid Right Hook. You figured those were the songs Frank had written and it made your heart flutter that he felt comfortable enough to share them with you. You slipped the tape back into your pocket, smiling to yourself, and began counting down the minutes until you could go home and listen to the tape.

Later that night, you put the tape on and lay in your bed while you listened to it, smiling at Frank’s choices. He’d been right, you did like the songs he’d picked with you in mind. Then you got to the songs he’d written. You couldn’t help but nod along, smiling so hard that your cheeks ached a little. You couldn’t believe how sweet his songs were, but you could, because he was a sweet boy. And of course, you knew you liked him too. As the final notes of She’s the Prettiest Girl faded out, leaving you in silence, you resolved to do something to show Frank that his feelings were returned. Who cared what Gerard and Mikey had to say?

The band had another gig, so of course, you went along. You could tell Gerard and Mikey were a little suspicious of you, since you didn’t used to be this enthusiastic about the band, but you were past the point of caring. You were also excited because you had a plan to tell Frankie how you felt about him and tonight, you were going to set that plan in motion.

As you all packed into the van to travel to the venue, you slipped Frank a note, much like he’d slipped you the tape. He looked at you, his eyebrows furrowed, but you just smiled and shook your head. The note read, “Don’t go into the venue right away when we get there. I have something to tell you. XO Y/N.” You hoped he’d read it before it was too late and would wait outside for you.

When the van arrived at the club where the gig was at, the others all piled out of the van to help the crew bring in equipment. You pretended to be looking for something in the backpack you’d brought with you and you heard Frank assuring the others he’d be right there, he just needed a smoke. Thankfully, none of the others decided to join him and soon, it was just the two of you.

You hopped out of the van and stood in front of Frank, who was sitting on the hood. Now that you were alone with him, his piercing hazel eyes on you, you were at a loss for words.

Frank sighed. “Look, Y/N, if you’re about to say you don’t see me that way, or that we should just be friends, or something like that, can you just get it over with? This is killing me.”

You didn’t respond. Instead, you took a deep breath and crushed your lips to his. He froze for a moment, clearly stunned, but then he returned the kiss, snaking his arms around your waist. You noticed immediately how well the two of you fit together.

Gerard’s voice broke through the haze of the moment. “Hey guys, I was just wondering--what the fuck?!”

You and Frank jolted apart as if electrocuted and immediately turned towards Gerard. One of Frank’s hands still lingered on your hip and you could feel him shaking. You grabbed his hand and held it in yours.

“Frank, what the fuck?” Gerard asked.

“I’m sorry, I--”

Gerard cut him off, his face growing red. “I specifically told you not to go there.”

“I didn’t--” Frank began, but Gerard cut him off again.

“She’s my sister!”

Frank squeezed your hand. “Yes, and she’s the most amazing girl I’ve ever met.” You glanced at Frank, noticing the fiery look in his eyes.

“She’s also standing right here,” you said.

Frank glanced at you, his eyes wide in fear, as if afraid that he’d overstepped.

You sighed. “Frank, go inside. I’ll handle this.”

He frowned at you, not moving.

“Go!” You said, letting go of his hand.

He glanced between you and Gerard for a moment, a stricken look on his face. But then he seemed to decide it was better to let you deal with Gerard and reluctantly went inside. You and Gerard both watched him go. Once you could no longer see Frank, you turned to Gerard.

“Listen, I really like him and I know he really likes me, but he didn’t wanna act on it because he was afraid of what you’d do to him. Please, just let me have this,” you said.

Gerard sighed, looking down at the ground for a moment, then back up at you. “You’ll let us know if we need to kick his ass?”

You snorted. “I don’t think you could even if I asked, but sure.”

He rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Shall we go in and tell Frank he gets to live another day?” You asked.

“Sure,” he said and the two of you went into the club.

You went over to where Ray, Mikey, and Frank were waiting. Frank still looked terrified for his life but you went over to him and took his hand. Mikey glared at the two of you, but you shook your head, glaring back.

“Frank?” Gerard asked.

Frank gulped. “If you’re going to beat me up, can I at least have a ten second head start?”

Gerard chuckled. “I’m not gonna beat you up, it’s fine.”

Mikey raised his eyebrows at Gerard.

“Really?” Mikey and Frank asked in unison.

“Yes, really. I guess if Y/N’s gonna date someone, it may as well be someone we already like,” Gerard said.

“Wait, date?” Ray asked, looking between you, Frank, Gerard, and Mikey. “Jeez, no one tells me anything!”

“Thanks, guys,” Frank said, looking much more relaxed.

“C’mere,” you said, pulling him into you. He eagerly leaned in to kiss you, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“Okay, throwing up now!” Mikey said.

You ignored him, as everything around you melted away. All you knew was Frank’s arms around you and his lips on yours. And that’s exactly how you wanted it.

#Frank Iero #frank iero fanfic #frank iero imagine #frank iero x reader #my chemical romance #MyChem #my chemical romance fanfic #my chemical romance x reader #my chemical romance imagine #mychem x reader #mcr #mcr x reader

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 3 years ago

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Knight in Shining Red Armor | Dante + Child!Reader (DMC 4)

A/N: Hey so this is a rewrite of one of my first (and only) DMC fic from like...2016. This takes place post-DMC 4

You can read the og one on my DeviantArt! But if you're here for the new one then I hope ya'll enjoy!

Summary: Child!Reader was taken under Dante's wing after being saved from a demon invasion, but even years later he hesitates to tell them what he truly is, fearing they'll resent him for his demonic heritage.

............

"Hey, um..Dante?"

"What's up, kiddo?" The red-clad devil hunter asked, though he wasn't completely paying attention to you. Rather he was sitting at his desk, feet kicked up as he was flipping through a magazine.

Meanwhile you were roaming around the shop, stopping only to gaze at the massive curved sword with glowing gems hanging on the wall behind him. He mentioned claiming many weapons--"Devil Arms" as they were called--from defeated demons, but you were curious about their names.

"Just wondering..what's that sword behind you called?"

"The Sparda. It sealed the barrier between the Underworld and human world. Nero went through hell and back, quite literally, to return it to me, so don't even think about touching......it?"

Dante put the magazine down as he turned to see you holding the Sparda in your small hands. You smiled triumphantly, but stumbled a bit before the blade accidentally slammed into the wooden floor, making you wince.

"Oops."

Yet your little act amused him, as he chuckled and shook his head. "You're a little too young to go devil-hunting, I'm afraid. But maybe one day you will."

"And maybe you can help pay off Dante's debt, too." Trish lightly joked as she entered the room, taking the giant sword from you and putting it back on the wall.

Her words were responded by a groan from the male, who went back to reading.

"Whatcha reading?"

Dante slowly lowered the magazine to see you sitting on his desk, but he just snapped it shut and tossed it into the trash, out of your line of sight. "Nothing that eyes like yours gotta see."

"Okay....ooooooh, what's this briefcase?" Hopping off the desk, you ran over to Pandora and crouched down to poke the skull emblem.

"Pandora. That baby can turn into six hundred and sixty six different weapons, but...right now we only have access to seven." Now he was feeling like an exhausted teacher on a museum trip, trying to explain each exhibit to his hyper first graders--the exhibits being his Devil Arms.

Yet as you ran around asking him about more of them, he couldn't help but see his childhood-self reflected in you. Just full of energy and never-ending curiosity and optimism.

Yeah..he definitely saw the resemblance.

Eventually you decided to leave him be and dash off to your room.

And only then did Dante drop his smile, sighing as he put both feet back on the ground. He ran a hand through his hair before dragging it down the side of his face tiredly.

"You know..you'll have to tell them eventually." Trish reminded.

"How, though? That kid's afraid of all demons..hybrids or not. I'm pretty sure saying "oh by the way the guy who rescued you is actually half-demon" is gonna send 'em running, and...I can't risk that." He shook his head, gazing at the jukebox in the corner.

"But I think [y/n]'s old enough to comprehend the concept of not all demons being evil," Lady chimed in after overhearing the conversation. "Just give it to them straight and I'm sure they'll understand."

As much as Dante wanted to argue, he saw that she had a valid point. But he still worried...

How would you react?

It's been a few years since he saved you from a Mega Scarecrow, though it turned out that more demons invaded your neighborhood, slaughtering everyone you knew and loved. And as he took you back to the shop to patch you up, he could see the terror in your eyes, any traces of innocence long gone.

No child should have gone through such a tragedy.

A tragedy that he was all-too familiar with.

After the defeat of the Savior, things have been looking up. You've regained your happiness as you lived in Devil May Cry and learned of Dante's tales of devil hunting, though the memories of that horrible night never truly left you alone.

Along with that, just seeing a demon is enough to make you run and hide, and you were terrified when you first met Nero and saw his demonic arm.

From that incident alone, Dante became extremely reluctant to tell you of his own demonic heritage.

He just didn't know if he's only hurting you more by keeping it hidden..

...............

Later that night, you were plagued by yet another nightmare. Different demons, same neighborhood...same deaths of your loved ones.

But in this one Dante got hurt, too. And you tried so hard to be brave for him, even shouting in the demon's face...but in the end you failed as it snatched you away, dragging you into the darkness of the Underworld before he could reach you.

Although you calmed down since awakening, you wanted to be sure he was alright.

So with what little moonlight shone in the shop's darkness, you located the worn sofa where Dante laid. He was engrossed in some TV program, though after sensing your presence his eyes flickered to you.

No words had to be exchanged in order for him to see what was wrong, as he sat up and patted the spot beside him. You smiled in relief and climbed onto the sofa, snuggling into his side as he wrapped an arm around you. "Th-Thanks, Dante."

"No prob. So uh..another nightmare, I guess?"

"Yeah, but..they hurt you, too and...I-I tried staying brave. I shouted at them to leave you alone and..they didn't listen. But...I think one of them looked scared of me."

"Wow." He raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Gotta say I'm impressed."

"Really?"

"Absolutely. Y'know demons are used to seeing kids scream and cry, not take a stand against them. Plus that's pretty epic of you to defend me, so thanks." With a smile, he ruffled your hair.

"You're welcome," you giggled a bit. "But..I really just wanna be as brave as you. I mean...Nero says you laugh at giant demons and tease them all the time. How do you do that without being scared?"

"Well..it comes with the business. Getting them riled up just makes the fight more fun. At least for me. You might think I'm crazy but if ya decide to hunt demons one day...you'll see what I mean."

"But until then, could I watch you fight one? Like a big bad one?"

"......."

"Dante?"

"..kid, there's a reason I never took you on any missions." Dante sighed, swallowing back the growing lump in his throat as he carefully planned his next words. "And how I always...bounce back from getting smacked by a demon tail. No human would be able to withstand that without some broken bones."

"Oh?" You tilted your head. "Then..how can you if you're human?"

"....because I'm not fully human."

As much as he wanted to shut up, he decided to tell you the truth once and for all, not sugarcoating anything:

He explained how his parents were a demon and human--a forbidden romance which resulted in himself and Virgil being born. His bloodline allowed them to blend in with humans, exercise their demonic abilities in battle, and even tap into their true demon forms.

All the while you listened silently, with not much emotion on your face. So it was hard for him to tell what you were probably thinking in this moment.

It scared him.

"...and that's it." He sighed, closing his eyes and looking away from you. "So go ahead and hate me if you want. I won't blame you for-"

"Can you show me?"

Dante blinked stupidly as he swung his head back towards you, wondering if he heard you right.

"I...wish you told me before, but I don't wanna be scared of demons anymore." You smiled a tiny bit as you elaborated. "Especially not one who helped me. So...can I see your other form?"

"...a-alright. Just...if you get scared I can turn back instantly, so don't freak."

"I won't."

He had doubts you'll keep your word, but he got up and activated his Devil Trigger form. As he opened his eyes, you gasped upon seeing how much they were glowing--being orange rather than blue. Red electric sparks danced around his metallic body as he observed you close, anticipating your reaction. He expected you to scream or cry.

Yet..there was only curiosity and wonder in your eyes.

"Scared yet?" He asked in his distorted voice, crouching down in front of you.

Not even the way he spoke startled you, as you just shook your head. "I was wrong all along..not all demons are bad."

"Not even this one?"

"Nope. You look awesome..like a knight in shiny red armor."

"...wow..I um...." For once, the talkative devil hunter was at loss for words. But when you learned forward to hug him around the neck, he was completely shocked.

Earlier in the day he thought of countless worse-case scenarios, and yet...the best-case was happening right now.

You were accepting him, hugging him even.

He couldn't believe it.

Dante smiled as he wrapped his arms around you, making sure his armor spikes didn't hurt you. "Thanks, kid. It really means a lot that you're not terrified anymore........[y/n]?" He was concerned about your lack of response, before realizing you were dozing off.

'Damn..I might make a pretty good dad, after all..' He mused, standing up and making the trek back to your bedroom. Then he set you down and tucked you in, relief and warmth in his heart.

He had a feeling that your nightmares won't be so bad anymore. Now he felt like he could truly protect you.

Why?

Because he was gonna be your knight in shining red armor.

"Jeez, man. Quit clanking around shit and---AH!!! WHAT THE FUCK?!!"

"Shhhh! Chill out, Nero. You'll wake 'em." Dante was quick to shift back to his human form once he was outside your room, glaring at his nephew. "Why are you so freaked out? This ain't the first time you've seen my devil form."

"But still..why in the middle of the night?! Thought we had company."

"...just go back to bed, kid."

"Don't call me kid!"

#devil may cry x reader #dmc x reader #dmc 4 x reader #child reader #dante x reader #dmc dante x reader

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bonny-kookoo · 4 years ago

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Sing to me: JJK x Reader 🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Mermaid AU, Siren!Jungkook, Prince!Jungkook, homeless!Reader, Romance, Smut duh

Wordcount: 5k (medium)

Tags/Warnings: okay so, spoiled kook, possessive kook, Theres literally an attempted murder lol, drowning? whoops, blood oh no, reader is hella fucking dense ok, biting, courting lol, fish boy is in love, whoops, anyways we got sexy times too, because in this AU fishboy got legs n all of that hah, unprotected sex because, guys pls this ain't supposed to he realistic, wrap it before you tap it folks, its also not all that filthy lol, blink and you'll miss the scene, honestly I didn't include much smut because yall nasty so you will ask for dirty drabbles anyways, not that I mind lol, k I'm done I think, wow mom I've sinned less than usual..

Summary: Help me love myself, and I might learn to love you as well.

Or alternatively: you save Jungkook from being killed, and he totally gets the wrong signals. But he's cute, so its fine. Probably.

Jungkook is floating.

He thinks about what lies above the waves, and cant think of anything he really finds interesting. The surface is littered in junk, in things humans leave behind without thinking twice about it. It's air is thick and stuffy, hard to breathe and never clear at all. It's crowded, with creatures who at the end of the day all look the same in his eyes. There's nothing exciting about the world people walk on.

Its boring, and dirty.

His own home is, compared to that, a kingdom radiating like the moon itself. It shines and sparkles, and harbors some of the most beautiful creatures ever to be found. He and his family, as well as everyone else, live in peace with nature down underneath the waves, existing side by side instead of trying to gain the upper hand all the time.

And he's reminded of the cruelty of man, when he finds himself caught in a net.

He's somehow made the fishermen drop it instead of pulling him up on their boat. But that doesn't mean he's free- he's still struggling with it, fighting it, but he cant rip it apart. All he does really, is tie the knots tighter, have them dig into his skin until spots are rubbed raw. He can't really swim anywhere at this point, gives up as he can see the last lights of his distant home fade into the distance.

Jungkook is floating.

He's slowly being led by the waves, by the love of wind and waters, as he closes his eyes. Its a pity, really; for a prince held so high to die by the mere hands of the poor, he thinks. It's upsetting him, very much so, but he takes it as it is. There's nothing he can do anyways, as he slowly comes into contact with the sand below. It washes him up onto short, the dry sand sticking to his body, waves pushing him higher and higher onto the ground.

He shivers, the cold outside air biting at his skin now unsheltered and defenseless.

He doesn't know how long he lays there.

But at some point, steps are heard on the sand. He keeps his eyes closed, doesn't care about what will happen next- he really just wants to have it be over by now, the ropes already painfully burning his skin at certain spots. He's sure theres sand in his wounds as something touches him- warm fingers, hesitant, and almost shy.

He keeps his eyes closed.

"My god, I hate humans.." You mutter under your breath, your voice hitting his ears, making him notice the way it sounds. He thinks it sounds very similar to some of his kind; sirens being blessed with voices sweet and enchanting. Maybe you were one of the strays who had decided to live on the surface for some reason? But your smell was entirely human, although much sweeter and pleasant than anyone he'd met before. And then, after a small short moment of pain-

He's free.

His arms flop to his side, and he breathes in deeply- finally able to fully move again. His eyes open, and adjust to the night for a moment, before they meet yours.

How interesting.

"Jungkook?" Jimin asks him, curious to what has gotten the young Siren so occupied. Typically, Jungkook would be watching the annual kingdom dances with at least some form of interest; even if it was just a glimpse of it, just to make his parents worry less about him misbehaving. But today, as the graceful dancers move around to the orchestra playing, the young prince is absolutely not there. At least not mentally. "Jungkook." The older one scolds, getting Jungkooks attention- his gaze hard and annoyed. "Please, young prince- at least try to pretend you're interested. This is after all part of our culture." He strategically uses his title as teasing- something which makes Jungkook snort without any fun.

"I really don't want to be here." He explains, and Jimin sighs. "I'd rather be at the surface.." He mumbles, being careful not to be too loud- but Jimin does pick it up, and so does his partner, Taehyung, next to him- now leaning a bit forward to hear better.

"Oh?" Jimin asks. "What could be of interest there, I wonder?" He teases, and Jungkook grows even more irritated.

"Nothing that should interest a whore like you." He says harshly, though Jimin knows he means no harm with it. Jimin is, after all, a man who enjoys the simple pleasures in life- which is why he can't quite grasp why Jungkook, a young man in his prime like himself, doesn't seem to care about whats going on around him.

"Hm, but I think she must be absolutely divine if you're willing to risk the wrath of your own mother just to see her." He says, and Taehyung snickers next to him, clearly amused.

But to both of their surprise, Jungkook grows.. calm. Theres even a glimpse of a smile on his lip as he rests his head on his head, elbow on the armrest of his throne. "That she is." He says, quietly, as he watches the young woman in front of him. He has to imagine you there instead, moving oh so gracefully to the sounds of his Kingdom's greatest musicians- dressed in the most beautiful gown he'd gift you. "That she is.." He repeats, a dreaming look on his face that Jimin has not seen before.

Jungkook watches you.

He enjoys watching you on your daily trips to the beach, picking up cans and bottles, and other things people throw away without care. You're cleaning up the beach, and he thinks its a very good behavior- he likes the way you always carefully scan the ground and sides for any garbage. He swims a little closer as he spots you squatting down; eyes lighting up as you pick up a shell he'd personally not care much for. It's slightly pink- but nothing he hasn't seen in his life. They're so common, and he suddenly thinks that if this already makes you happy, what if he was to bring you something else? Something better, something more worth your attention?

He feels a rush of excitement.

Dashing into the opposite direction, he makes his way towards the ground below, eyes scanning the ground as he searches for something. He spots it after a few minutes of searching, but when he holds the pearl, he hesitates.

Its not enough.

No, that's not what you should get. He's only paying back his dept, yeah, that's what he's doing. But what if he was overdoing it by bringing you something too expensive or rare? No, he should be smart about it, yeah. Start small, and work your way up he thinks, as he takes the pearls he's collected while deep in thought, and pushes himself back to the top, swimming easily. He hopes you're still there-

And there you are, dipping your feet into the water.

He looks at what he can see; only able to see clearly underneath the waves rather than above. There's a bracelet hanging around your ankle, and it looks cheap, he thinks. It only helps him by giving him ideas for his next gifts- if you would accept his first, that is. He's never been rejected before, but then again, has always rejected instead. Nothing had interested him to the extend you did. Maybe you really were of his kind, secretly.

When he slowly brings his head up the waves, you don't get scared, or flinch. You simply look, spot him, and smile.

He likes that expression.

He comes closer, free hand helping him onto the stone you sit on, his hand holding your gift eagerly pushing against yours. You understand quickly, and open them, and he smiles. You're smart, he notes, and it only adds to your qualities, he thinks. Dropping the pearls, your eyes sparkle again- as they should, he thinks with pride. You inspect them with big eyes, as if you've never seen something alike. He enjoys your reaction- and you nod at him. "Thank you- are they for me to keep?" You ask, pointing to them, and then at your chest. He's not fully fluent in human language, but has picked up on some words and phrases, since Seokjin had recently strayed- teaching him some stuff whenever he got bored and visited his younger brother.

So Jungkook nods. "You." He says, and you like the sound of his voice; fittingly just as handsome as the rest of him, you think. But then again- his kind is known for its beauty and enchanting voices. "Keep." He tells you, pushing your closed palm a bit closer to your body as if to underline his statement. You think its cute, in a way.

"Okay." You say. "I'll keep them-?" You ask, and he doesn't understand, until you point to yourself, and say a name- yours, he supposes.

"Ah-" He starts, pointing to himself. "Jungkook. Jeon, Jungkook." He tells you, and you nod, smiling.

"It's nice to meet you, Jeon Jungkook." You smile, and he grins back, slightly sharpened canines in stark contrast with his bunny-like smile.

He thinks its nice to meet you too.

"But you're a witch, aren't you?" Jungkook argues, staring at Taehyung. "I thought you were all so capable." He challenges, and Taehyungs eyes darken- quite literally, since sea witches do technically have black eyes- but conceal them, as to not scare off people. He regains his composure however when Jimins hand lays on his shoulder.

"Now now, no need to become huffy." He says. "He didn't say he can't do it- he simply told you that its not that easy." He explains, and Jungkook sighs, rolling his eyes. Ever the spoiled prince, they think to themselves.

"I don't care about that." He states. "Can you do it, or can you not?" He asks, and Taehyung thinks for a moment.

"I.." He begins, before he sighs. "I can. But, there's a catch, Jungkook." He tells him, and this time, the youngest of the group seems just as serious as he listens. "I can't promise that.. the result will be what you will expect." He says.

"What do you mean?" Jungkook asks.

"There's a chance she won't survive it."

He doesn't think much about why you're so often sitting on that rocky structure close to the deep- he likes not having to get out of the water to be close to you. And you think, Jungkook is quite the interesting being.

He’s curious; that much you can tell. His hands rest on your knees, your toes sometimes brushing against his abdomen as he swims closer- face coming forward to properly look at you. His vision must be bad outside of the waters you assume, his brown eyes squinting in concentration until he huffs and let’s himself back into the waters. You chuckle, and simply take off your jacket, slipping into the water as well as you control your breath- his entire face brightening at your body now underwater in his world, finally clear to see for his eyes.

You’re pretty, he thinks, definitely prettier than any other human he’d encountered before. The clothes covering your breasts and private parts a bit dull and boring for his taste- but he’d change that soon. He smiles, happy, before holding up his finger as if to signal for you to wait before he swims away, elegantly and fast. You swim up to breath some air, catch your breath, until there’s a hand around your calf, holding, fingers running over the skin, signaling you to come down again. You follow his question, taking a deep breath to meet him underneath the surface; his excited hands wrapping something around your neck, before he swims in circles as if he’s suddenly got too much energy. You point to yourself, as if to ask if you can keep it- and he nods, wide eyes watching you with a smile that you can’t help but mirror.

You don't quite realize what he's doing.

He however thinks you know. You know that he's courting you, and you're interested in him. You know that he's just given you more than a simple gift. He only believes you're letting him work for it- something he happily does, taking on the challenge as always. He swims closer, holds your shoulders, as his eyes look into yours, his gaze happy and child-like almost. He's close to finally showing you affection- but you suddenly swim to the surface instead.

And even though he knows you only wanted to breathe, he can't help but feel slightly sour at the ruined moment.

"You're awfully happy these days." His mother says, watching her son in the gardens of the palace. "May I ask what has gotten you in such a bright mood?" She asks, and Jungkook doesn't quite know how to break it to her. He knows its not forbidden, knows it has, and does, happen each and every day it seems- but there's still fear inside of him. Theres still hesitation, even though he is not ashamed of what has happened- of what he has done. His mother however notices. "You know you can trust me, right?" She says, and he nods.

Its now or never.

"I've found a mate." He says, and his mother smiles warmly, holding his cheek as she kisses it in congratulation. "Its a human." He says, quietly, hurried- but his mother continues to smile.

"I have suspected as much." She states. "Your friend- Park Jimin- is not very good at talking quietly." She snickers, and Jungkook curses under his breath about how he wants to strangle him. Theres a huge weight lifted off of him however; finally having said it, made it very real to him, in a way- even though it was already.

Because, after all; you were wearing his kingdom's sigil around your neck already. He had claimed you.

He's restless the next time he swims to the shore to meet you again- eager to see you to give you the news of his family's acceptance.

You're late- later than usual, and his brows are furrowed, mood upset at your mannerism. You're usually always on time, always just as eager to see him he thinks- but this time, you're not there. After his anger however, he grows increasingly worried instead. What if something had happened to you instead? Oh what a bad person he would be to be mad at you for getting into an unfortunate situation. As guilt slowly makes his way into his body, claims his muscles, he moves to sit on the stone he usually finds you on. He tries to look around- rain on his skin making it possible to be out way more comfortably.

He spots movement above.

Theres a person he can't make out- throwing something off the cliff down into the sea, and Jungkook clicks his tongue in anger, already upset- but still curious on what it was the person had been so eager to discard. Typically, its tiny things or plastic he finds- but this is something else, he knows.

Underwater, he smells blood.

His pupils contract, eyes widening, as he spots the black bag slowly making its way to the bottom of the sea- red trail leading from it. Its not the blood however that makes him frantic- its the smell of it, of you, that stops his heart.

He gets you out the bag, his anger over the entire situation diminishing into nothing as he holds you close, eyes spotting the deep cut on your side, and the scratches on your face. Unsure where to bring you, he holds you close, brings you onto his back as one of his hands hold yours, your arms around his neck. He swims quickly to the only place he knows you can breathe.

The underwater cave is big enough for now, he thinks, as he brings your body onto the ground, out the water. He doesn't notice he's crying, doesn't quite speak, his native language of clicking sounds and little noises escaping him as he whines out for your attention, waiting for you to wake up somehow. He's been so invested in making you like him and accept him that he's got no idea what to do with a human. Are you cold? How can he warm you up? How does he stop bleeding wounds? How much can you bleed before you die? Are you already dying?

Jungkook doesn't know what to do. So he simply lays by your side, holding you close, in hopes his slightly higher body temperature can keep you warm.

"He's doing the best he can-" Jimin says, Seokjin next to Taehyung as they both lean over your body. Both witches are concentrated, already exhausted, but there's no way they're giving up on you now. Not only because you're important to Jungkook- but because no one deserves to simply die like this.

"I know, I know!" Jungkook huffs out, pupils turned into cat like slits- a clear sign of the absolute terror and chaos inside of him. "What if they're best isn't good enough? Jimin, I can't loose her, you don't understand-" He starts, but Jimin holds the younger one's shoulders, for the first time serious with him.

"I do." He glances at Taehyung. Jimin had saved Taehyung before as well- the young sea witch having been hit by a fisherman's harpoon years ago. Ever since then, Jimin had been attached to the witch like glue. "Trust me, I really do. And they're doing all they can to make sure she's going to be fine." He promises, and Jungkook nods.

All he can do is pray.

When you wake up, there's several things you notice.

First, you're alive. Having a raging headache, and your limbs and muscles feel horribly tender, but you're alive. There's also strings of rope tied to two rock formations acting like a clothing line, several blankets and clothes hanging from it. They don't look human-made to you- the fabrics and designs not something you would think of as regular. There's a bucket and several stained rags- now copper-brown with old blood. Its then that you look down, seeing your cut sewed shut.

You also notice its rather soft underneath you.

Its sheepskin laid over seaweed you notice- the whool soft and fluffy, and warm. Everything seems to be so thoughtfully placed, even some decorative items- you can spot fireflies casually sitting in a jar close by, and burned wood, probably to . Probably to make light during the night. You're tired however, so you simply lay down again. Quite honestly, surely you should fee worried about the situation- but then again, there was no one to miss you, no place you called your home anyways. No use in worrying- because deep down, you had your suspicion.

A Jungkook swims to the surface with the plastic box in his arms, he's careful not to throw it too hard onto the ground. As he steps out the water, he's sure to at least try and his his hands of most the water before he goes to check on the blankets he had brought this early morning. They've dried enough, he notices, and is glad about that, as he picks one up.

You don't have to be cold anymore, he thinks.

He's unnaturally careful for his typical character- his usual behavior quite the opposite as it was now. Now, he's making sure you're properly tucked in, as he notices your eyes watching him.

He freezes, for a moment.

Jungkook hasn't really thought much about what would happen if you were to wake up- after all, Seokjin had told him he was unsure if you were to wake up this early in the first place, and Taehyung didn't even know if you would wake up at all. He'd told his younger brother to be prepared for any reaction really; fear, confusion, maybe even anger. But you seem calm, curious even, and Jungkook decides to sit down in front of your face, waiting.

"You brought me here, right?" You ask, and he nods, eyes not leaving your form.

"You-.. hurt." He points to the spot where your wound had been. "Also hurt." His hand points to your head. "Brothers, helped." He informs you, and you smile, nodding at his words. He suddenly looks at the ground, mumbling. "I.. worried. Thought... you, dying." He tells you, and you sit up slowly again, keeping the blanket around your shoulders.

"I'm not dead though." You say, and he nods. "Thank you, Jungkook. Now we're even." You say, and he tilts his head in confusion- a mannerism you could only think of as cute. "I saved you- you saved me." You say, and he smiles, nodding.

"I-" He starts, leaning forward a bit, now way more energetic and lighthearted as before. "I- we-" He growls a little in frustration, and you cant help but giggle at his troubles- the chirps and clicks escaping him foreign- but somehow, they feel hazy, as if your mind knows the language, but has forgotten what it meant. He's trying so hard you notice, and appreciate. "You like here?" He asks, and points around. You nod, and he beams at you. "I made." He tells you, proudly so.

"I guessed as much. Its very thoughtful of you, thank you." You say, and he nods, happy you like what he did for you. Its not a permanent solution, obviously, but as soon as you're healed well enough, he already planned a new spot for you to come with him.

You just don't know it yet.

There's a weird feeling inside of you.

It's like homesickness, you think. Every time you look at the waters, you feel- sad? It's making you uneasy, and with every day passing by, it just gets worse and worse. But it's today, that you cant take it.

When you dip your legs into the water, it soothes an ache you can't recognize ever having. It helps your skin, it somehow feels as if you're breathing again. But It's not enough, you think- before you let yourself fall into the deep end.

You're floating.

It's like leaving a stuffy and crowded mall, just to stand in a park, fresh air after it had rained, and light breeze clearing your head. Everything is silent, but not at the same time- the water around you feeling as if you're being hugged, held. It makes you relax, makes you let go, makes you only exist for a moment.

You're floating.

And there's a sudden wave of realization that you're also breathing. There's no water in your lungs- or maybe there is, and you just don't feel it being there. Darkness surrounds you as you don't know where you are exactly- theres no telling where is where, no way to know if you're upright or not. Maybe you've died?

Did you drown?

If you did, it would explain Jungkook being there. He's swimming towards you with a face full of worry, as he grabs your wrist and holds you close. "I can't even let you out of my sight for a mere day it seems, my love." He sighs, and your eyes widen. Its almost comedic how his own do the same, focusing on your neck, as he touches.

You're sensitive, and shift away from his touch.

"It-" He starts, now holding your shoulders, as he begins to smile. "It worked! It really did- by the dragon kind, you look absolutely divine!" He laughs, and can't help but hold your hands, eyes roaming your appearance, as you don't quite get it- until you follow his gaze.

Just like him, there's fins now on the sides of your calfs, smaller ones on your ankles as well. Theres also ones decorating your outer forearms- they look like the ones you'd always see on goldfish as a kid. There's something alike to scales as well, but barely noticable. "I- what happened to me?" You ask, and Junkook smiles.

"You.. almost died." He admits, taking your hand and swimming to what you assume is back towards the cave. "You had been robbed during the day, and when I found you.. well, you know what happened." He says. "While you were asleep, we were thinking about what to do. There was no way you would survive as a human- so, a friend of mine- Taehyung- performed a ritual, together with Seokjin, my brother." He says. You finally spot light, glad to be able to have at least some form of orientation. "I'm glad you're adjusting so quickly, my love." He states, smiling at you.

You notice the petname again.

"Jungkook-" You start, as you both reach the cave again, sitting on the edge of where the ground of the cave meets the water. "Why are you.. calling me that?" You ask, and Jungkook seems confused.

"Why do you ask?" He questions. And you don't quite follow, until he continues. "You're my mate- I am only addressing you as such."

Your eyes widen. "Wait- we're-" You start, and its only then that it clicks in Jungkooks head.

"Oh." He says- the dissapointment bitter and evident in his voice. "You.. didn't know?" He asks, and you shake your head, unsure what he means. "I see.." He tells you, suddenly distant. "I.. will bring you breakfast tomorrow.. sleep well." He abruptly says, and before you can say anything, he's already gone.

What just happened?

"There you are!" A voice says, deeper than Jungkooks, but not unfamiliar. Taehyung had been visiting and bringing you food and nescessities ever since that talk with Jungkook. This time, however, Taehyung seems like he wants to say something. You look at him, silently urging him, and he sits down next to you, sighing.

"Does he hate me?" You ask, quietly, and Taehyung looks sad.

"He could never." He says. "He just.. didn't take the rejection well. He'll need time to come around. It won't take that much time- his mother is already trying to get a new partner for him." He explains, and your head whips around towards him. "I- you.. did reject him, right?" He asks, slowly. "You do.. not love him, right?" He urges again, and you groan suddenly, throwing your face into your hands.

"Oh my god I'm so stupid.." You say. "It all.. everything was so overwhelming, I didn't even notice what he was doing." You cry into your hands, as Taehyungs hand places itself onto your back, trying to soothe you. "I though.. especially after I found out about his status.." You mumble. "How could he want me?" You ask, and Taehyung sighs.

"Head up, little siren." He says. "He's still able to hear you sing, if you want to." He says, and you look at him.

"But how?" You say. "I have no idea where the kingdom, or anything really is. And he won't come see me until its too late." You say.

"Well-" Taehyung says, standing up, and holding out his hand. "-allow me to escort the future princess to her lover."

"How did you find me?" He simply asks, not turning around, as you float closer. "I'm sorry, but I still need time to.. get over-" He starts, but you don't let him finish, instead leaning into his back, your arms around his middle.

"I'm stupid." You say. "I'm really, really stupid." He shakes his head, but you continue. "Just because I didn't realize- doesn't mean that I don't feel anything for you." You say. "I just.. felt unworthy, I guess. Insignificant." You admit, and he turns around, holding your face in his hands.

"You really are not gifted with the mind of the dragons king, my love." He states teasingly, the glimmer in his eyes returning. "My status means nothing to me, if that meant I could not have you." He says, and you lean forward, capturing his lips. "I hope you know what this meant, at least." He teases, and your eyes widen, scared you might've done something wrong. "It means you love me." He says, and you chuckle.

"Good." You say. "Because I do."

Even though he thinks you looked like a goddess reborn in your white and pearl decorated gown from the wedding, he enjoys you without it, close to him, just as much. He's alive, he's feeling, he's in love, as his hands move over your skin, his senses filled with you and nothing else.

The sounds you make for him are sweeter than any siren's song he's ever heard or could ever sing himself. No member of his kind is as enchanting as you, he decides, as he bites and kisses the sensitive skin of your neck. Jimin had teased him relentlessly the entire evening and night by trying to send you sweet words, to which you didn't react- but that didn't mean that it didn't piss him off.

You were his.

His princess- and soon to be queen, one day.

And he's planning on making that very evident, as he marks up your skin with little bites, visible for everyone to see. He wants everyone to know, even though by tomorrow, the entire Kingdom will celebrate the marriage of its prince anyways. He's more than ready to show you off, to hold you close, to have people see the divine being at his side that's you.

It's only natural for his hands to roam your skin, for his lips to worhip every inch it seems, as you reach out for his hand every second it leaves you. It's painfully endearing he thinks, how you can be so innocent and pure, while he's between your legs, performing the sinful act of pleasuring you with his mouth.

You pull him towards you, as you straddle his waist, leaning down to kiss him. He's in god's divine lands he thinks, as he suddenly feels you sinking down on his awaiting length. You fit around him perfectly, more so than he could've ever imagined. And as you both move, he holds you close, happy that here, in his world, he doesn't need to breathe.

He can kiss you as long as he wants.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. I spilled strawberry milk on my poor laptop while writing this.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts fic #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions #Sing To Me AU

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dreamii-yume · 3 years ago

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Does Yume know about Mihoyo’s plans to create a VR world like Sword Art Online?? I think it would be an excellent ending and dark solution to the Genshin Self-Aware AU o(｀ω´ )o

So let’s say that this plan is successful and Mihoyo even decides to give Genshin its own VR feature. Isn’t that wonderful news?? While you are excited at the thought of fully immersing in a fantasy world and closely interacting with the characters, your self-aware bias is euphoric for different reasons. If their hacking skills can create new voice lines and modify their interactions with the Traveler, who is to say that they can’t trap your consciousness inside their virtual reality??

At first, you panicked when you realized that you couldn’t log out of the game. You were even more confused when your bias approached you long before their scripted introduction. They are a lot kinder—and flirty?? They help you adjust to your new life in Teyvat, provide you with in-game food and items which just happen to be your favorite, don’t even bat an eye when you act strangely knowledgeable about their world and its residents…….

At one point, you might as well go with the flow and give up on returning to your reality. After all, isn’t the world of Genshin much better than the real world?? Here, you can live out the rest of your life as Traveler—or you can make your own choices, stay in one region, live a pleasant NPC life!! Either way, you will find yourself romanced by your bias whose programmed reactions and courting feel so real <3

No, you don’t need to worry about your old life……bc your bias secretly took care of that too!! Not only did they trap your consciousness inside the VR world, they left your real body in a permanent vegetative state. So that even if your physical body dies, you can spend eternity with your bias in what was once just a hopeful illusion of your favorite game ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

P.S. As much as I’d love to imagine how the individual characters go about this, whether they make Player darling assume the role of Traveler or live a completely different isekai life with them, aaahhhh I’m not that knowledgeable about Genshin so y’all can just imagine your own variations. I also wrote this with only one self-aware yan chara in mind bc we wouldn’t want Player darling’s living dream to turn into a harem nightmare, would we?? (๑╹ω╹๑ )

(In another words, I support the self-aware chara finally achieving twisted victory after years of coding and being worlds apart from their devoted player darling :> )

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Yes, I have heard about this and you are absolutely right. It’s literally a self-aware character’s dream, their saving grace and I’m sorry, Darling but I don’t think anyone’s going to let this trend just come and go as they please.

Maybe it’s just a fun addition to the game, doesn’t have anything to do with the canon storyline—Just something to feed the fans with, interacting with your favorite characters as if they’re real. You might come into the game in a different skin, different appearance but they instantly know it’s you. You might look different, but that kind of mannerism, that personality, it’s still you, and you’re actually here. You’re no longer beyond the screen, no more walls blocking your two worlds apart, they can touch, talk to you without messing something up in the codes.

They spend time with you, interacting with you as much as they can, the whole in-game day together—They’re so happy, so happy…That they almost forgot that you still have a world to go back to. But of course, they understand that! Yes, you have a life outside theirs and all, that’s perfectly reasonable, but like—They can’t help but wonder in worry, you know…Because what if you never come back again, you know? That’d…That’d be quite unfortunate for their poor little digital hearts.

That’s why, I agree with the fact that at some point or another—No matter how strong-willed or morally determined a character is, they will find a way to permanently bring you to the game.

#submission #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #yandere #also if i dont get to interact with lumine i dont want this vr bullshit no more

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tomatograter · 3 years ago

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What are your thoughts on JuneVris?

I like the ship, but sometimes I wonder if the romance is really There or if I just want to complete the Junevrisrezi Triad or w/e. I loved how their friendship developed over the course of homestuck, I just keep getting stuck on the pesterlog where June tells Vriska that she "kind of hates her". Ultimately they're still friendly after that, with June joking with Vriska by saying "if you ever need someone to punch you in the face again, I'll be there" and all that, but I wonder if June would ever really want a commited relationship with Vriska after that

June says a lot of negative things she doesn't fully mean or, if she means it, she has not taken into account how it will affect others; if jake is on the high end of the constantly-performing-for-acceptance spectrum, june is somewhere at the bottom.

The ease with which she can detach herself from her entire friendgroup and go into extended periods of complete isolation— marked by her friends worrying about her but that worry not being reciprocated, since she's mostly stewing on her own fog of bitter NEET malaise— is something that marks june's biggest flaw but also cements her story-role; she's the Protagonist. Things are secondary to her, not the other way around. She can tune the whole world out of her sight and focus only on whatever she deems worthy.

When she seeks affirmation and justification or even comfort, its not from her Fellow Friends, it's from the general cosmic ideal of... her doing something. The importance/meaning of her existence. The fact that She Needs To Do Something to fulfill her own abstract expectations, and keep busy. Of course our biggest point of comparison for this is when she's still not out to anyone, not even herself, so I'm partial to saying the self-actualization she desperately craves but can't even name has something to do with how she's transgender, and realizing that can be a great step 1 to getting out of that headspace, and moving on.

But related to the above statements and more closely tied with the purpose of your ask: June can and does designate certain people as stand-ins for why "things are going wrong" - and with nobody else to turn to safe for a big boss, these people are mostly her friends. This doesn't mean june is justified or right, and this also doesn't mean she doesn't truly love her friends, just that her feelings are easily overtaken by frustration, and from that frustration surges anger and spitefulness, a trait she closely shares with Jane.

They toe the flimsy line of meanness and arrogance, and sometimes blow up spectacularly. Their sense of inflated self-importance makes them transform everyone else in a liability, under the absolute lens of "I am justified, you are not."

June will holler to the skies that davesprite has somehow driven her out of her mind with his idiosyncrasies, and that her once favorite movies are truly fucking stupid shit for stupid fucking babies, and that roxy is a subhuman robot entirely out of her goddamn mind, and that vriska is a freak phony psycho she wants nothing to do with and is embarrassed to ever have liked; and she feels righteous in her fury. The excuses work, it doesn't matter if they're real. Make up a guy and get fucking mad at him! He's ruining your life! Doesn't that make you feel better? Doesn't that instantly give your life a clearer objective, and the assurance you are better than them? It's so easy. Here's a big red game target; catch it. kill it. scream at it.

It doesn't last, though. And in the aftermath the only thing it reveals is more of that same familiar emptiness.

The frustrations she has personified in her friends are still there, and they remain unaddressed, because the root often laid in june herself. She's mad her friends aren't exactly as she pictured them to be, or else she's mad at herself for ever making something out to be what it wasn't— or she's mad because she believed they could hold all the answers to make life better for her, but they don't.

The june-vriska example is particularly relevant because 'vriska' is part of june's dream of utter escapism; from seemingly nowhere, here comes a cool girl that knows exactly what june has to do always, and shes quirky, snippy, not like the other girls, and she has aaaaaaaall the answers. Except that personality shield has a complex and bloody backstory to all its 'epic' antics, and just as soon as vriska reveals her fragility the dream breaks a little. June has to cope with the fact vriska has flaws she cannot understand or justify, and after having looked up to her for so long she defaults to the emotion "maybe you always sucked after all." - it simplifies the situation. It makes her feel better about projection. That's where "I kind of hate you." comes from. She could have said 'i envy you/want to be you/am frustrated by you/disappointed in you' but the former is quicker.

The words 'June' and 'committed relationship' aren't really some i'd easily associate (She has a bit of a permanence=stagnation problem), but I do think her Protagonitis can only be put in check by the story's own favorite. Vriska can dish it out, and she has a backlog to argue she's important - if not MORE important than june, providing some perspective. Similarly, they can just sort of hang out sometimes and not feel utterly bored by each others presence, as they're picky in similar ways.

When I picture junevrisrezi, it is with june coming and going after vrisrezi have figured it out. They will always be a bit more partial to each other than they are to june, and june's drive to be constantly moving isn't exactly the same as two women who basically spent their childhoods in a murder-happy hellscape and could use a little slowing down, actually. It's not bad, they just have different priorities.

#homestuck #june egbert #vriska serket #junevris #junevrisrezi #meta #jane crocker

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anashins · 4 years ago

Text

Another Kind of Blackmailing

Title: Another Kind of Blackmailing

Pairing: Ten x You

Genre: (slight dark) romance, smut, tsundere!ten, fluff in the end

Warnings: toxic behavior, loooong fingering session, protected sex

Word Count: 4.163

Summary: Ten has always been a shadow in your friend group - that is what you thought. But when he demands sex in order to keep his mouth shut for something you have done that might ruin lives, you learn that he loves to stand out between the sheets.

______

His smirk was sly, the corner of his lips tilted up, but not radiating happiness. He was wearing an expression of which you couldn’t tell whether he was kind or the polar opposite. His dark hair was cut at the sides, the part on the top framing his forehead and giving him a touch of innocence which was emphasized by the sparkles in his eyes - but he was far from innocent.

It was his smile. His smile told you otherwise and betrayed his kind eyes.

His name was Ten. You knew him, more or less.

He was the best friend of your friend’s boyfriend, and apart from just getting a glimpse at him every now and then when you guys went out together, you basically knew nothing about him.

Ten had been introduced to you when your friend Hana announced her relationship to his best friend one night you had been out together with the whole clique. It had been a solemn, nonchalant and fun evening at the bar, everyone joking and fooling around, yet it was always Ten who stood out – in a very peculiar way.

He was always there physically, but at the same time, his presence was hard to be noticed. He was like a shadow, following his friends everywhere, and like a shadow, he had also behaved. He hadn’t talked much, had never made conspicuous motions or any other acts that stood out.

Ten always stayed in the background, smooth, calm and quiet – it was always like he wasn’t there at all.

So he surprised you even more when he had suddenly appeared in front of your apartment. You both had been out with your friends the night before and spent the majority of the night in the club. It wasn’t even midday yet and you were still hungover, even after a long, hot shower. The unwanted visitor had happened to appear right before you were about to go back to bed and relax for the rest of the day.

You didn’t know what to expect from Ten’s sudden visit. You stared at him, in surprise and slight shock, because out of all people, you hadn’t expected him to ever look for you. You had never exchanged any words aside from plain hellos and goodbyes. The rest of the time, he was a shadow for you.

However, now that his intense gaze was meeting yours, accompanied by that sly smile, you had the feeling that you were actually facing the real Ten for the first time.

“What do you want?” you asked, your grip tightening around the door knob as every possible reason for his visit flashed through your mind, but none of them actually made sense.Why would a boy you didn’t know suddenly seek you out?

“Well,” he started, and you wondered how soothing his voice sounded. Had you ever heard him speaking properly before? “Won’t you already know by now why I’m here or do I need to jog your memory?”

He grinned at you as you frowned, shifting his position as he rummaged through the pocket of his jeans. Shortly after, he pulled out his phone and unlocked it.

It was the moment in which he began to grin even wider that made your heart almost stop, and like a lightning that shot through your body, you suddenly knew what he might know as well. It was almost ridiculous how this event had been erased from your memories so fast. Probably because to you, it didn’t matter at all because nobody had seen it.

Or so you had thought.

“What if your beloved best friend finds out that you kissed her boyfriend?” Ten asked as he stared at his display, that damn smirk still lingering on his lips, and you wondered whether it would ever vanish.

“Look,” you started in panic. This was not possible. You had thought you could easily brush it under the carpet and forget about the incident, but things apparently turned out to be so much more complicated with evidence in the form of a picture now. “I can explain this. It’s not like how it looked. Actually—“

“Ah!” Ten lifted a finger and waved it to the right and left as though he wanted to chide you. “He is my best friend as well, and I can’t watch how everything will go downhill in his relationship because of you.”

“But that’s not true!” you protested and almost stomped your feet on the ground.

This Ten guy was mischievous and cunning enough to just jump to conclusions with only a simple picture as evidence. He didn’t even know the story behind it! It really made you scared of what he was possibly capable of with the snapped photo.

“I don’t need your poor explanations,” he returned, now sounding more serious than before, and it made you freeze for a second.

You didn’t know this guy at all, yet he possibly held your future in his hands. He could make your best friend and clique leave you and ruin a relationship if he only said one false word. He could twist and turn the story to make you the one who had behaved wrongly, although it had been the other way around.

If he was going against you, for whatever reason he might have, your life would break apart. Inwardly, you cursed at Ten because you and his best friend had agreed on forgetting about the incident and letting it pass.

“Why? What do you want?” you pressed through gritted teeth.

-----

Ten’s lips were surprisingly soft and warm on your neck, not rough and demanding at all. Yet, your body was stiff under his ever since he had placed you onto the bed. You didn’t make a move, because you wanted to show him that you were still mad over this whole situation, but against your expectations, he had been utterly gentle with you.

And you started to like it.

With a certain mindfulness, he had undressed you, and although you hadn’t looked at him, keeping your sight stubbornly to the ceiling, you had felt his hands moving under your shirt and surprisingly, they were soft as well, lifting your shirt up and undressing you without making you feel uncomfortable, not even the slightest bit.

It felt odd to be touched by a guy you didn’t know that cautiously, even if you overlooked the part that he wanted your body as a reward to keep his mouth shut. Though, you couldn’t go against him since that picture could destroy so many people's lives.

Ten was an asshole, was the first thing you had thought when he dragged you to the bed, and you wouldn’t have agreed on it if you hadn’t had one night stands before which made it probably easier to accept - or was it the mere thought that he was utterly attractive as well that you couldn’t resist to get a little taste of him?

Yet, regardless of how much you promised yourself not to enjoy it, not to give in, you still had built a certain affection towards the situation, towards him.

For someone who had blackmailed you into having sex with him, Ten was gentler, more attentive, more careful. He hadn’t kissed you on the lips yet. Instead, he had removed your shirt and pants without any hectic, but with ease, cautious as to not touch you too roughly or on the wrong spots.

Ten was now pulling down your bra straps, sliding them along your shoulders as his fingertips moved over your skin like a feather which made you shiver slightly while he removed your bra. You closed your eyes for a moment as he went down on you and placed your legs carefully over his shoulder. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties and dragged the clothing down to have you fully undressed in front of him.

He took his time undressing you, and regardless of how strange the circumstances seemed, you grew comfortable with the way he treated you – not as an actual reward, a thing, but as someone to actually appreciate wholly.

When you opened your eyes, you were directly looking into his as his face was hovering above yours. It was then when you realized that he wasn’t a shadow in the back anymore, but someone who had now stepped out of the background and pulled you into his world where only the two of you existed.

His gaze wandered down for a moment and you couldn’t tell whether he was looking at a certain spot on your body or whether he was only thinking of something, but when he locked your gazes again, you could see a flash of insecurity on his cheeks in the color of rose.

You reached out your hands and wrapped them around his neck, pulling him a little closer so that the tips of your nose almost touched. It was strange that, besides the fact that this was all just a business, you grew a certain craving for what he was doing to you. Perhaps, you thought, perhaps this was not going to be so bad like you had imagined after all.

Ten himself was not like you had imagined, that was for sure. You had always ignored the shade, seeking for the sun, but now that he was enveloping you, there was no turning back. He was too intriguing.

“Kiss me,” you said, and as though Ten had only been waiting for your permission, he instantly locked your lips within a second.

It was not a passionate and heated kiss from the beginning, but a rather surprisingly mellow one with his warm lips on yours. You had imagined how they would feel on yours when he had caressed your neck, but the reality was so much more beautiful than your fantasies. His movements against your lips were slow and intensive, more chaste than lewd. As he deepened the kiss, he rolled his tongue with yours, passionate enough to make you crave for more.

You didn’t want him to stop – and he didn’t.

Where your hands had been on his neck before, you now tried to discover his body like a map, letting yourself get lost in the landscape. You trailed your hand over his shoulder, feeling every inch of his skin that was unexpectedly soft. His muscles flexed under your touches as you wandered with your hand down his upper arm, shifting it to his chest to let it rest there.

You could feel his heartbeat, fast and jumpy, and if he hadn’t been kissing you at this moment, you could have let out a chuckle. Was he nervous? For someone so cool and mischievous before, he was quite pantsy now.

But your last thought quickly vanished when he suddenly caused an intensive feeling to spread through your body that made you moan into his mouth shamelessly.

“Mhmm!”

You closed your eyes and grabbed onto his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin as you felt how his slender fingers glided further into you. He smiled against your lips as he parted from you. His movements inside you had made your breathing become irregular. All you could see was that mischievous smirk from before again, and you started to hate it once more, yet you didn’t want him to stop.

“More?” Ten whispered, his lips close to yours.

He slid his fingers in and out of you, slowly, to tease, then faster, to heat up things, your hot walls always welcoming him with a certain anticipation. Whenever he slowly pulled out, he expected you to make a sound in order for him to push them back in. Tit for tat.

“Yes,” you purred.

“More?” Ten repeated, his lips slightly brushing over your lobe and his voice seductively stroking your ear.

You bit your lip and nodded, telling him, “Yes, yes!” to emphasize that you truly meant it.

By now, you had already forgotten about the picture, about his reward – and apparently, he had too. As two of his slender fingers dipped back into you, you weren’t able to think of anything anymore but him. No shadow, no darkness, only pure delight.

You scratched his neck as he pushed his fingers further into your centre, causing you to gasp out of surprise and rapture. The only lifeline was his own body over yours as you held onto him, letting his movements make you drown in a sea of pleasure. He pumped his fingers in and out of you, sometimes so slow that it almost drove you mad and sometimes so fast that you thought you’d reach your peak very soon.

Ten’s expertise caused you to clench around his limbs, and it made you soaking wet with every move he conducted. You could also feel his own excitement increasing as he breathed irregularly against your ear, grinning in satisfaction as ragged moans escaped your lips.

“Aaaaahh!” you suddenly screamed loudly and opened your eyes widely as you grabbed firmer onto him.

He had found fun in playing with your clit, and you had brought your legs together over the sudden overstimulation on the sensitive bundle of nerves, but Ten reached down and spread you even wider for him.

“You said you wanted more,” he teased.

You turned your head aside and covered your mouth with your hands, muffling all the noises you were making as he played with your most sensitive spot. His thumb brushed over your clit, only lightly at first, increasing your anticipation for the former feeling even more. It was then when he started to pay special attention to that spot that you were having a hard time to hold back your moans.

He pressed his thumb on your mound, circling around the tip over and over again. He flicked your clit, caressed it with a certain pressure, and even used his other fingers to take it in between them and roll it tenderly to make the feeling of rapture more intense as you shamelessly spread even wider for him. With every motion, he had caused your orgasm to coil up in our groin.

As for now, you didn’t care whether your groans sounded shameful, you just let out every noise he caused you to make. You had grabbed the sheets to the left and right of you, entangling your hands in the fabric just because you thought you had to burst any time now.

And Ten loved it. He loved the shameless moans you let out, your suffering cries and your struggles to breathe. He loved how your body twitched and fidgeted under his touches, how he could make you so weak, and how you were obviously demanding for more.

Ten then pulled his other fingers out of you fully, leaving you as a whimpering mess, and you shouted out his name again, disappointed over the loss.

“Ten!”

His fingers were now sliding up and down your wet folds, dipping into your core every now and then just to pay attention to your clit again. He glided over your centre, along your folds, and teased your sensitive nub even more by stroking over it rather firmly, yet still tender. And with every stroke, he was almost triggering your orgasm to explode, yet he always withdrew again to pay attention to your folds.

Ten lowered his head and kissed your cleavage, and this act felt so intimate to you that you began to savor every touch of his lips on your skin. Without neglecting his work on your lower area, he kissed down to your breasts, caressing the thin and sensitive skin around your mound for a longer moment with long and warm kisses before he moved further to your peaks.

Taking your nipple in between his lips, he sucked on it and slid his tongue over your tip, making it more sensitive to his touches by covering it with his salvia. Withdrawing his mouth, he blew over the spot, letting you shiver slightly due to the coldness before he smirked and started to plant kisses on you again.

His free hand trailed up your bare side, wandering from your naked thigh carefully and affectionately up to your stomach, rested there for a while before he further traced to your other breast. He cupped it with delight and massaged it fondly with his hand.

There was a certain carefulness that came along with slight firmness which made you glory his touches and kisses so much. This was surely not about a reward anymore, but about two people who actually craved for one another and wanted to give in to the pleasure.

As Ten withdrew, you knew that he was going to go the whole way now, avoiding to let you cum in his hands and truthfully, you preferred to share this moment with him inside of you.

“Do you,” he began and you nodded.

“Nightstand.”

He took off his jeans and tossed it to the ground, rolling the condom over his length and then laid himself back on top of you. His face was right above yours, and you two were smiling at each other.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and turned your position so that he could easily place himself properly in between your legs, now feeling him against your center. Yet, Ten still waited for a little while, keeping your gazes locked, and you couldn’t see what was going through his mind, but you just wished for him not to stop.

And he didn’t.

He pushed into your core, slowly and deliberately, sliding into your hotness bit by bit while your wet walls were anticipating the moment he’d fill you out to the fullest. You closed your eyes for the moment and stroked the back of his neck, feeling every inch of him gliding into you further and further.

When he was fully inside you, he didn’t start to thrust directly. Instead, he leaned in and kissed your lips once again. And once again, you were surprised by how attentive he was, not wanting your body only, but also wanting you to feel good.

His moves were deliberate, and although he had started off slow and sensual, the gentleness was now mixed with firmness and strength. You could only break the kiss to breathe for air and catch your breath when he pumped in and out of you in a steady rhythm.

“Please, don’t stop,” you pleaded, and with a pleasant grin, Ten nodded and leaned in to caress your neck, planting hot, wet kisses on your sides as the slight moans you let out reached his ear like a melody he grew to love even more with every tone.

His thighs slid along yours while he had his arms propped on either side of your head for support. His skin brushed over yours when he pushed out just to slip into your hotness again, your wet walls clenching around his length with every thrust that he conducted. And the stronger he went on, the more you were pushed back into the mattress, the sheets already wet and soaked from the act.

You wrapped your legs around his middle, letting out a pleased “Aaaahhh…” as you felt him a little deeper and a little more intense than before, hitting the right spots in this angle. Your fingers dug into the skin of his back as Ten rocked both of your bodies rhythmically, pushing you forward with every thrust.

It was to both of your liking, and you wondered how perfectly your bodies matched, how you didn’t need to go through a certain state of awkwardness to find the right rhythm and how everything had gone so smoothly from the very start.

As Ten’s thrusts turned a bit sloppier and his movements a bit faster, you could feel that he was close, and so were you. He reached out to grab the headboard, his forehead glistening with sweat as he hovered over you. When you shifted your position a little, you spread your thighs a little further and lifted your bum a little higher.

And then you let out a cry of pleasure as another thrust triggered your climax. You could still feel him moving inside you, his lower body sliding against yours and his burning kisses on your skin, but everything turned into a blur as your orgasm hit, making you lightheaded and causing you to experience the most blissful feeling in the world. You let out a long moan, rolled your head back and held onto him as the waves of pleasure almost washed your senses away.

Your body shuddered under his as you slowly tried to catch your breath, your legs giving in and nearly falling apart, yet you didn’t let go of Ten. His upper body parted from yours and he held his head low as he gave you another long thrust, burying himself deep inside of you and reaching his climax with a groan.

He fell limply on top of you right after, your chests heaving on top of each other as you tried to catch your breaths.

“There is no picture,” Ten then blurted out as he rolled off of you, leaving you in a surprise by this sudden confession.

“What?” you asked bluntly, not really comprehending what he had just said.

Unexpectedly, he pulled you on his chest, laid your head in the spot between his arm and neck, and dragged the blanket over you two to cover your bodies.

“There is no picture,” he repeated, insecurity swaying in his tone as he stared at the ceiling. “There has never been one. I watched you both from the very beginning. I knew that it hadn’t been your fault that he went outside shortly after you did, and I also knew that he had mistaken you for your best friend since your hairstyle is the same. The darkness only added to the confusion. Not to mention that he was a little bit more drunk than he should have been. I knew that it was only a short peck in confusion and that you scolded him right afterwards.”

As for now, you didn’t really care about the story behind this bluff, because everything he had said was true. There was nothing you needed to clear up anymore, but there was another thing that made you think ever since he had mentioned it. You got up and supported your position with your elbow on the mattress as you leaned in to him.

“You knew all this time?” you asked perplexed, but rather surprised than angry. “You have followed me?”

As Ten turned his face to you, you could finally see his slightly flushed cheeks. It was only a light shade of pink, but it was there and suddenly, you smiled.

“To confess… I have been following you all this time,” he explained with a shyer voice. “My eyes were always on you whereas you never seemed to notice me. I’ve never had the guts to approach you for a decent conversation apart from hellos and goodbyes. When you went outside all by yourself last night, I thought I could finally gather enough courage to talk to you. But I saw you with him and I got mad, I guess.”

So, this was it. He had always been a shadow in the background, but he had always been your shadow, following you with his eyes silently, but with much affection – whereas it had been you who had shut him out from everything, but mostly, from your own attention.

Behind the façade, Ten was only a shy guy who was probably awkward with people, a bit insecure and too shy to approach a girl that he liked. Behind that façade, Ten had been jealous that someone else could have taken interest in the girl he had laid his eyes on. His jealousy and madness had led him to act on his feelings - childish and catty as he had gone overboard with blackmailing you.

But Ten had never treated you wrongly.

His tenderness and carefulness had constantly proven to you that you could have stopped whenever you wanted him to, he had always been waiting for your own responses to his acts, never demanding too much.

Behind the mischievous smile, there was only a shy boy who wanted to get to know the girl he liked.

“Hey Ten,” you started after a while, and now it was you who wore that sly grin, “do you like me?”

And now, the redness coloring his cheeks couldn’t be missed that easily anymore. It was enough of an answer for you. With a laugh, you laid yourself beside him again, and with pleasure, he wrapped his arm around your middle and pulled you a little closer.

“How about a date later?” he muttered after a moment while he played with some strands of your hair.

With a smile, you answered happily, “That would be great.”

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