#also it's past midnight so sorry for all mistakes
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I'm finally watching 4th season of The Dragon Prince and i've just finished the first episode, so here are some thoughts:
Ophelia saying "So kids really dance like that these days. Soren was right" is literally me
"It would be hard for it to get any worse" "Yeah. Anyway, here's my boyfriend!"
Callum is fine
In hindsight setting up surprise dance with fire whips for your girlfriend when she is a general used to beating everyone's ass is not the smartest idea
When the show got new opening to represent change in the story
When the show mirrors old scenes but with different characters and circumstances
Callum's impression of Elves of the Blood Earth was quite spot on, actually
I still cringe about half of the time they have social interactions, but that's entirely on me
#tdp#just-random-ramblings#if any quotes or names are off then it's entirely on me since i'm watching show in polish and not checking any names#also it's past midnight so sorry for all mistakes#but i'm sleepy
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Keeping You Warm (The Milkman x F!Reader)
Author's Note: It's been a long (LONG) time since I wrote smut, so please excuse anything, plus English is not my native language so I apologise for any mistakes. But I do hope you enjoy this!
Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ Smut. However, it's quite light/soft, so to speak. The reader has a female genitalia.
Word Count: 1.957
“Double shift again, Francis?” I asked over the phone.
“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” I heard Francis’ tired voice say in almost a whisper.
“Is there really no other person who could take the shift? It’s the third time this week, Francis. You’re killing yourself.” I sighed as I rested my head on my hand.
“Not really; everyone has been quitting lately because of the rise in the number of the doppelgangers' sights.” I heard the sound of glass bottles clattering in the background.
“Just… Don’t push yourself too hard, okay? You’re already tired and worn out. I understand that there’s a job that needs to be done, but you’re human.”
“I know. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of myself. Don’t wait up for me, okay? Get your rest. You need it more than I do. Bye.”
“Bye.” I hung up the phone, lowered my head, and laid it on the table.
It has been nearly two weeks since I last saw Francis, which is foolish since we live in the same apartment. However, due to our jobs and taking shifts, our schedules haven't been exactly the same. It’s actually gotten worse because he’s been taking double shifts to cover the lack of people, and now he has to deliver the milk and stay an extra shift preparing all the packs for the next day, which means not only collecting the empty bottles but also refilling them and sorting them out in the boxes. We only see each other when the other one is asleep since I start my shifts early, and he only gets home quite late.
As I was lost in thought, someone knocked on the window. Steven was waving his papers to get into the building.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, proceeding with my work.
Eventually, my shift ended, and I went to my and Francis’ apartment. While setting down my things, I checked my schedule for the next day, and a big smile spread across my face. It was a day off. I decided to wait up for Francis, so for the next few hours, I occupied myself with getting dinner ready and tidying up the house. When I ran out of things to do, I sat in the living room watching one of my favorite shows.
It was past midnight when I heard the keys to the front door. Francis walked in looking as tired as ever, sighing as he locked the door, the tension leaving his shoulders at being home becoming visible.
“Welcome home, love,” I said, getting up from the couch.
“I told you not to wait up, (Y/N),” Francis whispered as he wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me tight.
“I’m not working tomorrow, so I thought I would wait for you,” I whispered back. I held his face in my hands, and he looked exhausted. “Do you want to go to bed? We could cuddle a little before sleep.”
“I would like that,” he smiled.
He followed me into the bedroom and started to get changed. I got in bed while waiting for him.
Soon, I felt his arms around my waist and his lips pressed against my neck. I turned off the lights and faced him. I put my palm on his cheek and caressed it with my thumb. I heard him sigh and move his head closer and I held it between my hands. His lips met mine in a soft and slow kiss.
“I missed you” Francis’s embrace tightened.
“I missed you too, my love” I smiled.
We kissed again, our lips moving slowly, just appreciating each other’s presence. His hand moved from my waist to my hip and down to my butt, giving it a light squeeze. I gasped slightly, and Francis took the opportunity to slide his tongue inside my mouth. What was just a lingering kiss turned into something more pressing. The warmth and softness of our lips, the wet touch of tongues, and the subtle taste of each other only added to my incoming arousal.
Unconsciously, I pushed my hips against his during the kiss, feeling his semi-hard dick. Francis moaned into the kiss. With his hand under my neck, he grabbed a fist full of my hair at the back of my head, squeezing tight and deepening the kiss. His other hand moved back to my waist, slipping under my shirt, caressing my skin, leaving goosebumps all over me.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, breaking the kiss and leaving both of us panting.
Francis rested his forehead on mine, and his hands continued rubbing the skin of my waist and neck.
“I thought you were tired,” I smiled.
“I am, but I want you,” he said hoarsely.
At the same time, his leg slipped between mine, pulling me closer by the waist. I could feel his need pressing against my intimate parts. I squeezed his leg between mine, rubbing my heat trying to ease my aching, but I knew he was exhausted, so I took the lead.
“What if I keep you warm?” I asked.
I spit a bit into my hand and reached for his pants, slipping under the waistband and into his underwear. I took his dick and started slowly moving, feeling him twitch. Francis groaned, and I felt his breath at the top of my head; he hugged me tighter and started to slowly, rocking his hips against my hand. I felt a chill down my spine; my core throbbed, and I felt it was getting wetter.
“Prep me up?” I mumbled.
Francis hummed, agreeing. His hand went from my waist to my heat, massaging my skin lightly along the way, and he pressed one finger to my entrance. I moaned quietly, continuing to pump him. He started to spread my juices around my lips and then pushed one finger inside. I moved my hips along with his finger, Francis kept his movements slow, and with each thrust, he touched a new spot inside me. Soon, he added a second finger, making me moan again and grind my hips in his hand.
“And I thought I was in need,” Francis chuckled.
“Francis…” I whimpered.
He pressed his thumb into my clit and began his scissors movements inside me, also curling his fingers to reach that sweet spot and stroke it, making me roll my eyes and breath heavily. I lifted my head, looking once again for his lips, and captured them in a hungrily open-mouth kiss, our tongues stroking each other rapidly and messy, with spit starting to drip.
I felt my walls pulsing around his fingers and that tickling sensation in my lower belly rushing me to grind faster. But I forced myself to stop. I pulled my hand away from his throbbing dick and grabbed his wrist, moving him away from me. I pushed Francis by the shoulder, laying his back on the mattress, and undressed myself. I lifted my leg and sat across Francis's lap, pulling his clothes down, freeing his dick, making him groan.
I kissed his tip and licked his entire length, from bottom to top, taking him to my mouth next. I took him until his tip reached the back of my throat and pumped the rest with my hand. I bobbed my head, sucking him and pressing my tongue against his flesh. Francis gave a husky groan and thrust his hips, hands tangling my hair.
When his dick was all wet, I raised myself and aligned my entrance with his tip. I slowly sink into him, feeling him twitch, relinquishing the feeling of his dick filling me up until he was all of him was inside me.
I set my hands on his stomach, getting used to the sensation of having him inside. Francis released a strangled breath, his hands resting on my thighs, caressing them with his thumbs.
When I was about to move, Francis took a strand of my hair and nestled it behind my ear, pulling me towards him by the back of my neck right after. He kissed me again, lips moving rapidly, only pulling away when we needed air.
The sudden movement had me squeezing his dick and he grinded his hips against me.
“Fucking tight,” Francis whispered.
I began rocking my hips, Francis matched my pace by grinding into me. Grunts and pants echoed in the bedroom; my hands were back on his stomach for balance, his hands pressed firmly on my waist to guide my movements and leave bruises. Each thrust felt heavenly, his dick sliding in and out, hitting the right spots every time, making me whimper and my legs shake.
The familiar tickling feeling in my lower belly came back, and my movements became erratic, faster, and sloppier, chasing that rush.
“I’m cuming,” I begged.
“Wait for me,” Francis urged.
He grabbed my leg and pushed my back onto the mattress. Settled between my legs, Francis resumed his movements, thrusting deep and fast. The change in position made me whine and squeeze him even tighter; it was bliss, the feeling of his weight on me, his grinding, and his dick rubbing every part inside me and hitting just the right spot.
“Francis, please” I begged again.
“Almost there” he grunted.
I tried my best to delay my incoming orgasm, focusing on Francis, on his short breaths, his muscles stiffening beneath my fingers, his raspy moans in my ear, just everything about him, taking my mind away from the pleasure he was giving me.
I tightened my legs around his body and my nails scratched his back, I was so close.
“Cum with me,” Francis pleaded.
I focused back on the sensation in my lower area. Francis sped up his pace, with chaotic and messy movements, as he began to shake. I felt the buildup of tension that made my back arch and my toes curl, like a clenching feeling. As soon as I thought that I couldn’t take it anymore, I sensed all that tension being released and pulsing throughout my body, an all-consuming release and euphoria. I moaned loudly against Francis's skin.
At the same time, Francis tensed up gave his final deep thrust and his dick throbbed inside me, releasing all of his seed, filling me up.
Francis kissed my lips tenderly, again, again and again, holding my face while supporting the weight of his body on one arm.
“I love you” he whispered between kisses.
“I love you too” I giggled, kissing him back.
He lay next to me, pulling me onto his chest. We stayed like that for a while, still panting and recovering.
“I’ll get you some water and a towel,” he said kissing my temple.
“No, it's okay I’ll get it” I pushed him down and got up. “I have to use the bathroom anyway. Do you need anything?”
“Just some water, please”.
I went to the bathroom, cleaned myself and then got a glass of water from the kitchen. When I came back to the bedroom, Francis’s breathing was deep and slow, suggesting that he was already asleep. I smiled and placed the water on his nightstand, I gave a small peck on his lips and laid down in bed, feeling my muscles relaxing after so much tension and pleasure.
The fact that our lives are regularly in danger because of the doppelgangers leaves everyone on edge, meaning that our time together safe at home is a blessing and a getaway from everything on the outside. Losing ourselves in each other is not only a reminder of being alive but also a reassurance that the other person we love so much is still by our side.
Thinking about all the things we do for each other, and while caressing softly Francis's face, I also fell asleep.
#milkman#milkman x reader#francis mosses x you#francis mosses#francis mosses x reader#francis#x reader#reader#x you#thats not my neighbor#doppelganger francis mosses#doppelganger#the milkman#francis x reader#smut
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“quite an impression” | taste — jjk (pt 1)
series summary: your best friend (with benefits) has a new girlfriend...little does she know, you were and would always be there first.
what to expect for this part: fuckbuddy! jk, y/n is kind of a bad person (sorry), cheating, fingering, slight degradation (m receiving), doing it in a public restroom stall (ew!) you guys can also imagine 2018/2019 jungkook for this whole series tyvm!!
no word count...it's just a lot of words ok!!
enjoy!
"you're gonna wear that to meet my girlfriend?"
y/n turns around to greet her friend with a smile. "jungkookie, you told me to look nice," she pouts before doing a little twirl. "you don't think i look nice?"
jungkook shakes his head quickly. "no, no," he sticks his hands in his jeans pockets. "no, you look nice. so nice. it's just..." he purses his lips trying to find the words. "don't you think it's kinda..."
"revealing?"
jungkook nods sheepishly. "yeah," he looks down at the ground momentarily before he perks up again. "i mean, it shouldn't be too bad. we are going clubbing afterwards, right?"
y/n hums in response. "mhm, that's right," she looks at herself in the mirror again. she runs her hands over her curves, seeing the way the leathery fabric clings to her. the swooping neckline of her dress not leaving much to the imagination. "where did you say she works? waffle house or something?"
the male laughs, running a hand through his neatly brushed hair. "no, it's just a diner. you know the one...by jimin's old place?"
y/n stifles a laugh. "geez, really?" she recalls the old, dumpy looking diner on the corner a few streets down. "how much does she make, two dollars a week?" she looks through the mirror at her friend, who's no longer smiling.
"you don't have to make fun of her, you know," jungkook's voice was quieter. "you haven't even met her yet."
feeling "empathetic", y/n mimics his frown and approaches him, her arms coming up to wrap around his neck. "oh, jungkookie..." she looks up at him with big, innocent eyes. "it was meant to be a joke. i'm sure seyeon is really nice."
"siyeon."
"hm?"
jungkook clears his throat. "her name is siyeon."
"what did i say?" y/n cocks her head to the side.
"seyeon," jungkook fiddles with his fingers, his hands ghosting over their familiar home of y/n's hips. "it's siyeon."
y/n forces a laugh. "oh, silly me!" she shakes her head at herself before looking back up at him. "my mistake, jungkook." she boops his nose teasingly before pulling away from him and grabbing her purse and phone. "all ready to go?"
jungkook stands still and stares at her for a little longer before blinking and nodding, turning towards the door. he opens it for y/n, trying his best not to watch her as she walked out.
"bye, minah!" y/n waves goodbye to her roommate, who barely acknowledges the two leaving. "i'll be back after midnight so leave the door unlocked, okay?"
jungkook opens the door again for her, sending a polite smile to minah, who rolls her eyes.
"i don't think your roommate likes me."
"it's not you yourself..." y/n trails off, her heels clacking on the pavement as they approached the diner. "she's just a stickler for morals, you know?"
"oh." jungkook gulps. "well, i don't know what she's upset about...it's not like we've fooled around recently. i'm with siyeon. i haven't cheated on her."
y/n smirks, but jungkook doesn't see it. "yeah, well, she probably assumes that you will," she shrugs. "i mean, she's plenty familiar with you."
"how? we haven't met?" jungkook tries to recall actually being introduced to his friend's roommate, but can't.
"i'm sure she knows your name from me moaning it nonstop last semester," y/n speaks, nonchalantly letting the words fall from her mouth. she looks up at jungkook with innocent eyes. "maybe that's it."
he gulps, his throat feeling dry. "y-yeah, sure," he calms himself down by force as they get to the diner where siyeon works.
he pulls open the door for y/n, who walks past him closely, "accidentally" rubbing herself against him on the way in.
jungkook leads y/n over to the counter, where an average height woman is wiping things down. she has dark brown hair, tied into a tight low ponytail. she looks up when jungkook approaches, her tired eyes lighting up just a little. "hey, babe," she smiles as he leans in for a quick peck. her eyes fall to y/n, giving her the once over, her eyes widening slightly at her outfit. "who is this?"
jungkook smiles and gestures to y/n. "siyeon, this is–"
"hi, i'm y/n!" she takes the chance to introduce herself. she holds out her hand for siyeon to shake. "i'm jungkook's best friend, i'm sure he's mentioned me."
"he has," siyeon replies, tentatively shaking y/n's hand. "it's, um, nice to meet you. i'm siyeon."
"so i hear," y/n stifles a small chuckle as she looks around the place. still as dumpy as she remembered. "so, you work here, huh?" there was a hint of a demeaning tone in her voice that she tried to mask as much as she could.
jungkook steps closer to the counter. closer to siyeon, who instinctively places a hand on his arm, almost possessively. y/n almost laughs again at that, the small gesture showing more insecurity than she bet siyeon wanted to show.
"siyeon, y/n and i are hanging out tonight," jungkook explains to his girlfriend. he glances back at y/n who continues to watch siyeon with a gleam in her eyes. jungkook continues, "we're going clubbing. it's tradition."
"tradition? what tradition?" siyeon looks at jungkook with big, confused eyes.
"it's the anniversary of when we became friends," jungkook replies quickly. so quickly that y/n can't help but giggle, earning a quick glance from siyeon. "we celebrate every year since sophomore year of high school."
siyeon nods, understanding. her boyfriend was just so kind and considerate. she knew she didn't have to worry about him. to be fair, it wasn't him she was worried about...
y/n checks the time on her phone. "jungkookie, we should get going," she flips her phone screen around so he can see the time, making sure that the photo of her and jungkook on her locks reen was visible to siyeon.
the photo was of the two of them from two summers ago on the beach. in the photo, y/n was hoisted up by jungkook, her legs wrapped around his waist. it was quite the precarious photo for a pair of friends, because from the outside, that's all they were.
jungkook nods. "yeah, the club should open soon," he leans in to kiss his girlfriend again, this time in a parting gesture. when he pulls away, siyeon pulls him back, kissing him deeply. it was clearly a message, yet y/n just watched, unfazed.
when siyeon breaks the kiss, she glances at y/n, who is checking her nails, unbothered. she looks up, impatient. "ready?" she glances at jungkook, who rubs the back of his neck nervously.
the male nods, smiling at y/n. "yep!" he glances at siyeon again. "bye, baby. see you tomorrow sometime."
y/n waves enthusiastically to siyeon. "bye, siyeon! it was lovely meeting you!" she gives the girl the once over again, her expression still polite, though if you looked long enough, you could see the hint of a smirk on her face as she looked at the other.
“yeah, nice meeting you,” siyeon replies to y/n. “you sure leave quite an impression.”
y/n grins at her words, then looks to jungkook as they head out. once again, he holds the door for her and she slides out past him. jungkook lets the door of the diner swing closed, the bell above the doorway dinging.
“the anniversary of when became friends?” y/n asks him, a hint of amusement evident in her tone. “quick thinking on your part, jungkookie.”
“forgive me for not wanting to tell my girlfriend that today is the anniversary of when we had sex for the first time,” jungkook retorts, waiting until they were far enough from the diner to walk closer to y/n, his hands in his pockets as he nudges her with his elbow. “feels hard to explain that, don’t you think?”
y/n shrugs. “i thought honesty was important in a relationship,” she teases. “but if you want to keep secrets from your partner, that’s your choice.”
jungkook rolls his eyes as the neon light marquee of the club comes into view. “you’re so annoying, y/n,” he smiles through his words. “you know that?”
“i’ve been told,” she shrugs, before laughing as she shakes her head. “god, did you see the way she got kinda possessive over you? that was so pathetic.”
“she has a right to be concerned about you, you know.”
“no duh.”
jungkook sighs. “y/n, let’s not do anything stupid tonight,” he speaks, his voice serious. y/n glances at him, an amused gleam in her eyes. “okay?”
“holy shit,” y/n looks at him in disbelief. she stifles a laugh. “you really like that girl, don’t you?” she teases, watching the small blush appear on his cheeks.
“this is my first actual girlfriend,” he explains. “i’d like to keep her, if you don’t mind.”
y/n nods in mock understanding. “yeah, sure,” she looks up at him one last time before facing forward again. "whatever you say..."
they get to the front doors, present the bouncer with their fake id's, and head inside the club.
the music pounds through the whole building, the floor shaking. y/n turns to jungkook immediately, tilting her head at him. "come on, jungkookie," she pouts. "dance with me?"
the male smiles and grabs y/n's hands, leading her towards the big mob of people. "i know you love this song," he watches as she starts to get into the music, really feeling herself.
"i know you love watching me dance," she speaks above the music. her eyes locked on his before she turns around, dancing against jungkook sensually.
he hisses as her ass rubs against him. "y/n, what did i say—" he's cut off as she turns around, placing a finger on his lips.
"shh, jungkookie..." she smirks up at him. "relax! have a little fun, yeah?" she drapes her arms over his shoulders again, this time his hands find her hips quickly.
"y/n, i can't tonight, okay?"
"can't what?"
jungkook grits his teeth. "can't have sex with you," he keeps his voice low, directly in her ear. "we can't do it."
she nods. "i know," she reminds him. "i didn't say we should. you're the one that keeps telling me."
jungkook's face hardens. he knew they shouldn't—no, couldn't. he had a girlfriend now. he vowed to be a loyal partner to siyeon. he knew that nothing could happen tonight between he and y/n—his best friend. it couldn't.
but he also knew that it very well could.
jungkook pushes y/n up against the door to the bathroom once they're both inside, his lips immediately crashing onto her neck. she can't hide the victorious smirk on her face.
"you really had to—" he sucks on her skin. "—flirt with that guy, huh?" jungkook pulls his lips away to stare her in the face, his eyes bouncing from her eyes to her lips. she could smell the faint scent of alcohol on his breath.
"he flirted with me, jungkook," she explains. "what was i supposed to do? not take the compliment?"
"it's this outfit," jungkook's shaky hands find her hips again. "god, you look so hot." he practically groans as he buries his face in her neck again. he was breathing hard and heavy, his control finally having snapped.
she hums as one of her hands slides down to teasingly rub his growing hardness through his pants. he lets out a whispered sigh right in her ear, his possessive grip on her hips loosening. "y-y/n..."
he decides to return the favor, his hand slipping under the short skirt of her dress. he lifts his head to look at her, pupils big and eyebrows furrowed. shit, he already looked a mess. "n-no panties...?"
she shakes her head, biting her lip. "it's tradition," she smirks up at him, seeing the way his eyes roll back slightly. his internal (and external, at this point) struggle was so arousing to her.
"shit..." his fingers find her wet folds and he slides past them with his pointer finger. her hand continues to tease him through the denim fabric of his jeans, the friction making his vision a little blurry. without another thought, he enters one finger into her wetness, feeling her free hand grip his bicep tight.
"mm, jungkook," she moans his name softly, once again unable to hide the satisfied grin on her face. she had won, of course. to be honest, she didn't have to try hard. jungkook had been a ticking time bomb since he saw her dress earlier that evening. she grips his bicep as his finger fucks into her, shortly joined by a second.
the sound of her wetness, his soft groans, and her moans fill the luckily empty bathroom, the bass still booming through the heavy door. he pushes his middle and ring finger into her faster, the squelching sounds heightening in volume.
"jungkookie, ah—" she exclaims, her eyebrows furrowed at his movements. "mm, fuck, baby..." she whines as she digs her nails into his arm, something he'd probably have to cover up.
jungkook leans in to kiss her, her lips happily welcoming his. the kiss is messy quickly, both of their tongues fighting for dominance. y/n's wins as jungkook whines into the kiss, his free hand shaky against her hip. it really was so fun to watch him break.
y/n pulls away from the kiss, reaching down to pull his fingers out of her. he watches her with a puzzled expression. she lifts his slick covered fingers to her lips and sucks them dry, her eyes locked on his. she sees the way his eyelids flutter halfway closed and he has to fight to keep them open so he can keep watching her.
"w-why did you...?" is all he can muster as she pulls his fingers from her mouth.
"i'd rather cum around your cock."
jungkook feels his head start to spin. the power she held over him should be researched, truly. the magnetic pull towards her he felt whenever she appeared...it wasn't healthy. it wasn't good for his relationship with siyeon, and it definitely wasn't good for his health.
"you're unbelievable, y/n," he tells her and she shrugs. nothing she didn't already know. "i don't know how you do it...i don't care how i just..."
she knew what came next.
he looks down at her, his eyes with that usual desperate gleam in them. "i need you," he's pleading, pathetic and needy. how could she say no?
"mm, i bet you do," y/n smirks. she grabs the back of jungkook's neck, pulling him in for another kiss. he sighs happily against her lips before she pulls away. "want you inside me." she whispers against his lips and he whines like a hungry puppy.
she grabs his hand and pulls him into the nearest stall—not the handicap stall, they couldn't be so lucky.
as soon as the lock is on the door, jungkook toys with his jean buttons and zipper, fumbling a few times due to his rushing. he was already sweating. his shaky fingers finally get his pants undone, and he glances at y/n, who watches him, trying not to chuckle at his clearly frazzled and desperate state.
he grabs her waist and pulls her on top of him as he sits down on the toilet, y/n immediately straddling his hips. she hums at the position and reaches down to pull her dress up enough to where her core is exposed. she finds his open jeans and slips her hand in, pulling his aching length through his boxers and through the opening in his pants. god, he was so hard and leaking precum. his cock was desperate for her too.
clearly given up on his own morals by now, jungkook grips his length, watching as y/n lifts her hips up, aligning herself with his tip. she teases a little, sliding past his tip a few times, hearing him groan in distress.
"please, baby, no more teasing," jungkook nearly whines. "just let me—oh, shit..."
she had cut him off, of course, by finally sinking down on him, his cock instantly stretching her. her arms find his shoulders, draping her arms around them. "mm, there we go..." she hums as she sinks down further, his whole length inside her now.
"g-god, y/n, i—" jungkook's mouth goes dry as his hands find familiarity on her hips, gripping tightly this time. "you feel s' good..." he slurs his words, already drunk on her pussy.
"mm, yeah?" she teases verbally as she begins to ride him, her eyes locked on his. "you feel good too, baby..."
jungkook groans lowly, watching as she moves up and down on him. he couldn't tear his hooded gaze away from her face, the way her brows were furrowed in pleasure and her lips—her beautiful lips parted in a perfect 'o' shape.
he lets out a small yelp as y/n begins to bounce quickly on his cock, his grip on her grips tightening. "s-shit–"
she chuckles at his disheveled, desperate state. "hah, should've known you'd crack so quickly," she moves her hand to grip his chin. "always so weak in the knees for me, jungkookie...it's so pathetic."
jungkook whimpers at her change in demeanor, his big doe eyes wide as he stares up at her. his throat was dry, words failing him. his face heats up, the soft pink blush on his cheeks quite obvious.
"look at you...you're blushing," y/n pouts in faux sympathy. she hears the whimpers that follow every bounce on his cock, the sound music to her ears. "face it, you'll always come crawling back to me, huh? you can't help it, can you?"
jungkook gulps and shakes his head. "l-love being inside you..." he speaks, his hips bucking up slightly, thrusting up into her.
she moans at the feeling, smirking. "you wanna fuck up into me, jungkookie?" she raises a brow and he can't nod fast enough.
"w-wanna...so bad, y/n," he whines again and she chuckles at his desperation. he bucks hips up again, this time in a rhythm with her bounces.
the mix of her moans, his whines and groans, the skin slapping, and faint sound of music playing fills the bathroom. anyone else who might have walked in wouldn't have to guess what was happening in that stall.
"fuck, jungkookie," y/n moans his name, his cock hitting her spot perfectly with every thrust. her head lolls back for a moment, his grip on her hips tightening. "you feel so good inside me, baby..." she whispers the praise in her ear and he lets out a mix of a growl and a whine, his noises growing more needy by the minute.
"holy hell, y/n, i can't—" jungkook bites his lip as his thrusts grow more sloppy. "...can't hold for much longer..."
"cum for me, jungkookie," y/n speaks, her words mixing with a moan as her sounds heighten in pitch. "fucking fill up my pussy with your cum."
"i'm gonna—i'm—oh my god..." jungkook's eyelids flutter and he leans his head back, his load shooting into her, the milky substance filling her up. y/n's own release follows, her cum mixing with his as they both groan from the pleasure of their release.
as they both catch their breaths, y/n chuckles in success. she eyes jungkook, the way his neatly combed hair had since stuck to his sweat covered forehead. the way he looked completely spent, his chest rising and falling. she looks between them, the mixed cum that leaked out of her pussy to pool around the base of his cock.
she leans in to whisper in his ear, her voice low, sending a shiver through his body. "happy anniversary, jungkookie."
jungkook blinks, looking down at the mess, the up at y/n, who eyes him with a knowing smirk. he takes a deep breath, leaning his head back as he regains his train of thought. one word can sum up how he feels.
"fuck."
#jungkook#jungkook smut#bts smut#jeon jungkook smut#jungkook imagine#kpop smut#kpop imagines#jeon jungkook
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nagumo yoichi x gn!reader, sfw, not beta read
cw: slight suggestive content, explicit language
notes: wait if you catch several typos/grammar mistakes, that's not on me, that's on ellipsus for constantly glitching out today and preventing me from making edits. this is a drabble, too, and i don't proofread those oops. anyway, i thought it'd be funny if nagumo also got into a relationship the same way sakamoto and aoi got together. i also think it's hilarious that the npcs in this series don't give a fuck lol. nagumo also comes off as weird af at first LMAO wait this was kinda meant to satisfy my belief that nagumo has a sleeper build iykwim - wait i'm realizing there are several references + tidbits in this piece so it'd be funny if y'all catch anything hehe
"WELCOME!"
greeting customers is arguably the least rewarding thing about your job. most people who walk in ignore you, some even look annoyed, and you hate public speaking in the first place. you think you lose five minutes of your life every single time you raise your voice, and those five minutes have probably accumulated to years by now.
you sigh. it can't be helped. another part-timer recently quit, and you can't possibly let the manager of this convenience store, an elderly man in his 60s, take on additional night shifts when he's already handling the early mornings.
besides, there are some pros. since the store is located near a university and a residential area, there are familiar faces. there's a group of computer science students that often drop by, and they play the occasional harmless prank on you. there's also that mother-daughter pair that buys frozen taiyakis every saturday as a reward for the daughter for finishing her weekly violin lesson. and perhaps the most intriguing of them all is a man that pops by every three days around midnight.
he wears the same tan trench coat, along with a loose patterned button-up and black pants. before winter set in, he always went straight to the freezer to fish out a popsicle, bar already in his mouth as he walked over to pay, but in the past two weeks, he's been opting for a cup of hot coffee and small packets of candy instead.
it seems he's craving sour gummies today. with a swift swipe of your arm, you grab and scan the barcode on the back of the plastic bag, and type in the amount for his drink.
"your total's ¥600."
"no discounts for your most loyal customer?"
startled, you freeze, determined to avoid eye contact. you've had conversations with other customers before, but never with him. he's always left as quickly as he came, so you're caught off-guard by this unexpected interaction.
"u-uh, not this time, sorry. i can ask the manager if we have a loyalty program, if you want."
the man hums as he nods happily and hands you two ¥500 coins. his unbothered smile unnerves you a bit, so you count the difference and return the loose change in personal record time.
but he doesn't leave, and instead, asks, "any thoughts on getting hitched?"
your spit-take's almost comical, but the absurdity of the situation takes precedent. "w-what now?"
"one of my co-workers recently got married to a convenience store worker, so i'd thought i'd give it a try, too!"
you're practically shaking from how anxious and overwhelmed this person's making you feel. it doesn't help that he's clearly not disturbed at all, which almost makes you doubt your own ethics and gut instincts. but, the more you think about it, the more you're sure there's something wrong with this man and not you.
"i-i, uh, well, i'm not interested in-in getting married right now."
"oh, that's a shame! guess i'll try again tomorrow!”
–
you wake up with a jolt, almost knocking the crown of your head into nagumo's chin. though, of course, there's no actual need to worry about that.
"hm, what's wrong?"
with a workbook on bayesian statistics in one hand, a pen resting on his ear, and his other arm folded behind his head, he looks down at you curiously. despite having just woken up, your head's never been clearer, and you sit up between his legs before looking behind your shoulder and shooting a glare at him.
you ask, "can i punch your face?"
nagumo laughs, probably already imagining your futile attempts. "sure! but can i ask why?"
"i dreamt about our first conversation, and it reminded me that you're kinda fucked up."
your boyfriend chuckles more, amused by your moral qualms. "you could say that."
the thought that your relationship is weird has never left you. you're (still) a simple convenience store cashier, and nagumo gets filthy rich by murdering people. you were never that interested in the world around you, having been too busy paying back student loans and applying to other jobs throughout your early adolescent years to care about other things, so when he told you about the JAA and the establishment of the assassin industry as a whole, you were shocked. but that's always as far down into the rabbit hole as you let yourself go.
from this view, with nagumo spread out before you, he doesn't look dangerous at all. if anything, he resembles a nerdy graduate student, thanks to his obvious passions for mathematics and reading. moreover, his short-sleeved t-shirt exposes his tattoo-riddled arms, and the bottom of it has ridden up, giving you a pleasurable view of his hip bones and happy trail. in fact, when the two of you got into bed together for the first time (don't ask how he succeeded in seducing you), you were surprised by his physique. his outside clothes certainly don't do his abs or biceps justice.
anyway, the point is, he looks like your fantasy of a dreamy, hot, geeky boyfriend, not your local professional hitman-for-hire.
you sigh. you're not going to punch his stupidly attractive face. you lie back down onto his chest, burrowing your nose into the crook of his neck. you do let yourself get away with a pinch to his cheek.
then, you mutter, "don't hurt me."
"i won't," he chirps.
nagumo presses the knuckles of his free hand into the knots around your shoulder blades and flips his book back open.
he knows you mean more than in the literal sense.
#sakamoto days#sakadays#sakamoto days x reader#sakadays x reader#sakamoto days fluff#sakadays fluff#nagumo yoichi#yoichi nagumo#nagumo x reader#nagumo yoichi x reader#yoichi nagumo x reader#sakamoto days nagumo#sakadays nagumo#nagumo sakamoto days#nagumo sakadays#carrot cake!
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no nut november - lee minho (winner)
-> pairing : minho x fem!reader
-> words count : 2.1k
-> genre : smut, etablished relation
-> warnings : dom!minho, dirty talk, praising, unprotected sex, oral (f. and m. receiving), fingering, use of 'good girl', 'kitten" and 'slut' (lovingly), overstimulation, spanking
+ the way i'm depicting minho does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction.
-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni
-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.
-> masterlist | skz masterlist | no nut november
To say Minho was confident about his chances was an understatement. Honestly, he knew he wouldn’t have much competition, except maybe from Seungmin. Still, he followed the loss of all his members like the best show he had ever seen, teasing them endlessly. Some surprises came with the bet, like Jeongin being one of the last still going after the third week of November. But overall, they were all so predictable that Minho could have guessed how it would end.
So when he received a message from Seungmin the 30th, saying that he was out, Minho knew that he had finally won. Just two days, and he could finally do all the things he was constantly thinking about for these past weeks to you. It hadn’t been an easy win, he must say. He almost lost just once, when he was making out with you on your couch during a movie night. But he managed - God knows how - to contain himself and stay strong.
Even though he didn’t lose control doesn’t mean that he didn’t get crazy over you for the smallest things. Like this one time when you were applying your gloss, getting ready for the date Minho had planned for the two of you. The act was innocent, no ulterior motives - of course, you were so sweet, didn’t do anything to try and make him lose - but he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering to other places. He couldn’t stop thinking about those same glossy lips wrapped around his cock, couldn’t stop thinking about those same glossy lips covered in his cum, as well as your perfect face. But these fantasies were all he would authorize himself, or else, he would have gone mad by now.
On your side, even if this challenge was frustrating too, it was also very amusing : seeing your spoiled boyfriend, who used to get what he wanted from you immediately, struggling to keep the last pieces of his sanity together was funny. Very funny. But you knew that you wouldn’t be laughing at the end of the month, most likely screaming and crying underneath Minho. But you knew that as soon as his primal needs and yours would be fulfilled, he was gonna be the sweetest boyfriend ever. And you couldn’t wait to hold him and fall asleep in his arms.
Therefore you weren’t surprised when you heard someone knocking at your door at midnight precisely. Minho hadn’t tell you anything but you were sure that as soon as he could, he would come and fuck you. That’s exactly why you decided to stay awake, watching your favorite film and patiently waiting for him to show up at your door. You couldn’t help the little smirk that tugged at the corner of your lips as you unlocked the door of your apartment to reveal the well-known silhouette of your boyfriend, leaning on the wall and wearing the same smile as you.
“- Have you missed me, kitten ?
- Well, come and find out.”
It didn’t take more than that for him to grab your waist, pushing your body against his already rock hard member, and to kiss you like he needed you to breathe, like you were his oxygen. And in a sense, it was true. This month without you, without feeling your skin under his hands, without feeling your touch. This month was really what he had pictured when he imagined hell.
“- You’re not gonna be able to walk tomorrow kitten…
- Good, because I want you to ruin me.”
You didn’t even notice that Minho closed the door until he pushed you against it, his tongue playing with yours like he wanted to win a fight he had already won anyway. He always won. And if he didn’t, it was only a moment of peace before he took the lead again. But honestly, you weren’t complaining right now : you had missed him too much to care, just like he had missed you. From the way he was groping every part of your body as he was undressing you from your shorts and hoodie, to the way he grunted when you ran your fingers through his hair. He clearly missed you as much as you did.
“- Minho… Please, don’t tease…”
No answer came to your ears as he helped you get out of your last piece of clothing and got down on his knees. That was enough of an answer for you. You were already breathing heavily, anticipating Minho’s next move. One of his fingers ran along your clit, making you shiver and whine for more. You needed him. You needed to feel him.
“- Already so wet for me… You missed me that much ?
- Yes, I missed you so much Min… Please, I need you….”
Your pleas were enough to convince him apparently because he immediately dived into your cunt, eating you out as if he was a man starved. A sigh left his lips when your taste engulfed him. Fuck. He missed your taste, missed your moans, missed your hands tugging at his roots, missed the way you were grinding against his face. He missed it all even if it was worth it.
But what was even more worth it was to relieve all this pent up frustration of the past month. Yes, it was torture most of the time, but Minho must admit that getting to touch you again after so long made him want to appreciate it even more, savoring every drop of your juices as if it was the most expensive champagne he ever got to taste, and taking his sweet time, listening to your moans like his favourite song.
You quickly felt close to the edge, wanting nothing more than cumming on his tongues. And Minho knew the tale-tell signs of your orgasm by heart : how your thighs began to shake, how you lost the rhythm of your hips, how you tugged harder on his strands of hair. And after all you did for him this month, he was more than happy to offer it to you, sucking one last time on your clit and coaxing your first orgasm out of you. By the time he got to his feets, you were almost back to reality, your chest still heaving to your hitched breathe.
“- You okay ?”
His fingers brushed softly against your cheek, a rough contrast with how messily he was eating your pussy just minutes ago, your arousal still coating his chin and lips.
“- Yeah… You’re just too good at this.
- Wanna see all the other things I’m good at ?”
And he did show you. He put you on your knees for him, pushing his rock hard cock until it hit the back of your throat, grinning when you gagged around him. He fucked your mouth roughly, releasing all his annoyance of the past month until you milked him dry. Then, he played with you again, his fingers plunged as deeply as possible into your cunt, hitting your sweet every time he curled them in the right angle, making you cum for the second time before he got you on all fours.
“- Gonna be a good girl and give me one more kitten ?”
You simply moaned by way of answer, but that didn’t seem to satisfy him as all you earned was a slap that made your ass jiggle, the sound echoing through your bedroom. You couldn’t see Minho’s face, but you could easily imagine the smirk playing on his lips.
“- Use your words.
- Yes, yes I can… Please, fuck me…
- That’s better.”
Both of you knew that the act he was putting on would drop as soon as he slid in between your wet walls. His moans were almost louder than yours, his iron grip on your hips that will certainly leave marks holding you in place. It’s been too long. Too long since he tasted you, kissed you, touched you, fucked you. And now, finally buried deep inside of you, he found himself unable to move. Every now and then, your pussy fluttered around his shaft and he groaned while tightening his grip on your waist.
“- I’m sorry, I’m not gonna last long.”
His voice was already airy, cut out by little high-pitched moans every time he thrusted back into you. And that was one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard. It was a shame you couldn’t see his face right now, but the feeling of his heavy length pounding in and out of your cunt was already enough to bring you closer to your relief. You weren’t going to last long either, having missed being fucked by him too much.
“- Don’t care… S-So good Min…”
At this point, you were fucking yourself on his cock, and Minho stared down at your ass coliding with his abs everytime you moved backwards, moaning loudly everytime he hitted your sweet spot. It really was a sight to behold, and he didn’t miss a bit of it, his gaze lingering on your cunt swallowing him whole.
“- You’re so fucking nasty baby, bet you fantasized about that every day, didn’t you ?”
You were so out of it that you couldn’t form any coherent word, and even less sentences, only whimpers leaving your lips. Minho chuckled from behind you, picking up on his pace and holding your hips still while he rammed into you at a much quicker rhythm.
“- I am fucking you so good you can’t talk ? Is that it little slut ?”
You moaned in approuval, reliveing in the way his body now pressed into yours in the mattress, his lips brushing against your ear everytime he talked dirty to you. Minho knew how excited that got you. He wanted you to come before him, he wanted to feel the delicious ache of you getting impossibly tight around him before cumming too.
“- Answer, or you’re not getting what you want.
- Y-Yeah !
- Yeah to what ? That’s not a proper response baby.”
The sweet name paired with his hand slapping your ass was degrading, borderline humiliating, but it felt so fucking good, tightening the knot in your stomach and bringing you so much closer to your climax.
“- You’re fucking me s-so good I can’t… Ah… I can’t talk.
- Good girl. Now you can cum.”
As if you only needed his permission to do so, you reached your breaking point, screaming in pleasure and your pussy contracting so hard around him he came almost immediately, moaning your name loudly as he spilled his load deep inside of you. Both of your orgasms were so intense your visions became white, tears almost spilling out of your eyes. For a moment, the only sound breaking the silence of your bedroom was one of your heavy breathing, trying to regain some strength to move from the position you were currently in, which was becoming quite uncomfortable.
Minho rolled off from your body, laying on your side and bringing you close to him, not wanting to leave the warmth radiating from you. You immediately cuddled against him, settling your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his intoxicating scent with an audible sigh of relief.
“- That was undoubtedly the most powerful orgasm of my whole life.”
You giggled at his words, but you could only agree with him : it indeed was, and even if you weren’t certain that an entiere month of frustration was the better way of getting it, you were still glad for it.
“- Yeah, it was amazing but I’m gonna need a good shower.
- Does this mean round two ?”
You hit his toned chest playfully, rolling your eyes, but you didn’t miss his teasing smirk and he didn’t miss the way the corner of your lips were threatening to stretch out.
“- That means we’re not doing that ever again. I missed you too much, it wasn’t really fun.”
Feeling you snuggle even more against him, Minho tightens his hold on you, one of his hands coming to caress your shoulders, his gaze softening. He lowered his head enough to be able to kiss the crown of your hair, burying his face inside just after, the perfume of your shampoo feeling familiar enough to totally relax him.
“- I missed you a lot too. But it was worth it seeing them losing one after another.”
You hit him again, but it only made him chuckle softly. You knew your boyfriend was very competitive, and maybe it wasn’t a bad thing after all, you thought, when you felt his hands sliding from your shoulder to your ass, squeezing them roughly.
“- So… Round two ?”
-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my works.
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#skz x reader#skz x yn#stray kids fics#stray kids x reader#lee know smut#minho smut#lee know x reader#minho x reader#lee know x reader smut#minho x reader smut#skz smut#nnn#no nut november#nnn skz
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A Court of Burning Seasons || Part 1
— > eris vanserra × archeron!reader, lucien vanserra x elain archeron
• Part 1: Elain starts to confide in her sister, y/n remains close off but offers support while they both prepare for a festival in the human lands. Elain remembers her moment with Lucien as she told him about her choice.
• Summary: [Y/N] Archeron always felt the pull of autumn, even as a human. The fallen leaves, the warm colours, the spicy sweets, even her birthday. For Elain, it was the sun and the way of feeding her gardens and flowers with its light. Together in the Night Court after being thrown into the Cauldron, they both feel out of place. But while Elain has her growing bond with Lucien, [y/n] remains an outsider. With her powers still silents even after years, she feels a longing she can't quite place. A mating bond with Eris Vanserra is the last thing she expects and also what she seemed to need. But nothing is ever easy as it seems in Prythian, especially not with Beron impeding presence and courts rivalries always finding a way of creating complications.
• Warnings: focused mostly on elucien and the relationship between Elain and y/n, with a mention of Lucien’s past love. Eris doesn’t appear yet, but his time will come soon enough I promise!!
• Word count: 5k (I know, it’s so long and I’m sorry, but it was necessary for the set up)
[introduction]

You didn’t hear Elain come in, or maybe you just pretended not to.
The late afternoon sky outside your window was already inked with stars, Velaris perpetual night cloaking the city. It seemed midnight, though the day was far from over. That was how things worked there, darkness at every corner, every hour. Extremely beautiful for some, but strictly suffocating for you.
Elain hesitated at the doorway, her footsteps soft but not silent. She wasn't unfamiliar with the sight of you, still and quiet, your mind clearly somewhere else. It was usual. You always were lost in thought, but there was something now that made her pause with familiarity. The guarded way you carried yourself, the weight behind your mask of silence, Elain knew it all too well. She understood it.
Because it was similar to the weight she had been carrying, too.
Still, she was the one that understood you the most.
“Do you miss it?” Elain asked, finally breaking the silence.
You didn't move, didn't turn to look at her. “The human lands?”
Elain stepped closer, her voice softer now. “Everything.”
The question lingered, filling the room like a breath neither of you were ready to release.
“It doesn’t matter," you said at last. Your voice was low, but there was no mistaking the bitterness in it. "It's all the same. I didn't belong there, and I don't belong here. My destiny has taken an awful liking in reminding me I never belonged anywhere."
Elain's expression softened further, though she said nothing. She knew you well enough to recognize when you weren't ready to hear her argue otherwise, although she wanted to. But even in your stubbornness, she could see the truth in your words.
She was no stranger in how you felt in your past human life.
Elain stepped beside you, her gaze following yours out of the window and into the starlight horizon. “Were you counting them?”
You blinked and stared at her, startled for just a moment before putting your walls back on. But Elain wouldn't give up.
“Is that your replacement of picking up fallen leaves?” she teased gently, though there was no mockery in her words, only her usual apprehension, the only one capable of getting at you.
Elain had always known why you started doing that in the first place, if only counting stars didn't made things worse. Stars could never comfort you like dying leaves used to. They only reminded you of how out of place you'd always been.
“I tried,” you managed an half smile. “Not the same at all.
The silence returned, thick but never heavy, familiar in its own way. Usually, Elain wouldn't mind it, both of you thrived in the unspoken words of your bond, which never needed constant noise to affirm itself, especially not after what had happened with the Cauldron.
But today, Elain had come to talk.
And you were too observant to miss it. The way she seemed... different. Nervous, relieved, and even impatient, it seemed.
“There is a reason in particular you came here?” you prompted, casually. “Or you just wanted to be delighted by my presence?”
"Yes. There is," she said, shifting awkwardly. Her voice was light, but you caught the nerves she tried to hide behind it. "Two reason, actually. And you won't like one of them."
"I won't like it, you say? I'm almost afraid to ask," you turned to face her fully, your arms crossing over your chest. "Start with this one, then."
She gave you a faint smile before giving in to your request. "Feyre and Rhysand will be coming too.”
Your response was immediate. A sharp snort, deliberate, more amused than anything else. Of course they would. "Should I be surprised?" you said, rolling your eyes. "They don't trust us to handle our own, don't they? They just can't help themselves. Of course, Mother forbid us stepping out out of their sight for more than a minute!"
Elain winced at the sharp edge of your tone, but she said nothing. You turned away then, pacing towards your bed as you muttered to yourself. "They believe Velaris is the only thing worth protecting, but they expect loyalty in return, while keeping us at arm's length. They want all of us to fall in line, no question asked at all."
It wasn't the first time you said something of the sorts, and Elain doubted it would be the last. She knew what you felt about Feyre and and Rhysand, and how your sister's action had shaped your existences without consent or consideration. Elain didn't disagree, not completely, at least. She had learned, eventially, to make her peace with it in a way you hadn't.
“At least we can go back, for once," she said, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere. "To the human lands, to the festival."
Sensing how hopeful and excited she sounded, you gave her a pointed look, skepticism written all over your face. "We both know why we're really going. Do you thing is about reminiscing sweet old times? No, it's not about the festival. It never will be. It's an excuse about politics for them. Checking alliances, keeping tabs on humans. That's all it ever is."
"Maybe," she patiently conceded. "But does it really matter why they go? We could still enjoy it, you know. A quiet night. Away from here. Together."
Your hesitation crumbled, just a little. Elain could see the resistance in your expression, but also how mentioning to step outside the Night Court, even for a few hours, was the right string to pull. You would do anything to get away from Velaris, and she knew it. It was the only way you could finally breathe, at least for a little while.
With a final sigh, you relented. "You know I'm coming. I already promised you this. And I've never broken a promise to you, not once. And you know it."
Elain's smile grew, relieved by your acceptance. "No, you never did."
That simple truth, the unwavering loyalty you shared, even more than with your other sisters, meant more to her than she could put into words. But that wasn't all. There was something else she needed to address with you. The weight of it pressed heavily on her chest like a machete.
"Besides, it's autumn time in the human lands, you will enjoy it."
You tried to seem indifferent. But the mention of the season that always made you feel a little bit like home, made your eyes sparkle. Elain noticed that, and smiled amusingly.
"What's the other thing?" you prompted, watching her closely.
Elain checks blushed hard as she looked down, deliberately avoiding your gaze. She didn’t know how to start this conversation, but she knew you were the only one she could trust. She lowered herself onto the edge of the bed, but it was you who talked first.
"It's about Lucien," you guessed.
She froze, not expecting your straightforwardness. Then, slowly, her head moved in a quiet nod, tentative. “You’re the only one I could talk to. Feyre is… I don’t know which part she would take, and Nesta…”
Your brows lifted. There was no need to say more. Nesta’s dislike for Lucien was no secret, she didn’t even try to hide it, she never did. The passing of time didn’t soften her, all the contrary.
You sat beside her, while still giving her the space she needed. After a moment, you talked. “Don’t mind Nesta. She has her own life now, she made her decisions. Now, you make yours. It’s not about her, it’s about you.” You placed an hand on her shoulder, a rare gesture coming from you, but still treasured for Elain. “You shouldn’t follow anyone’s expectation.”
“Not even Lucien’s?” she asked now, her voice trying to be steady, but failing.
“I’m sure Lucien has no expectations of you. Hope, maybe, but no expectations.”
“Yes. He told me as much. Repeatedly.”
“Follow your heart, Elain. Don’t think of what the Inner Circle would want you to decide. Not what Nesta would like to see. Not even what Lucien’s hopes are,” your voice grew steadier by the seconds. “You always wanted to have a choice. You can’t have what you had before, I’m not going to lie, but you can still choose for yourself.”
“I’ve made my choice,” she admitted. Her voice wavered, but there was a soft determination beneath it. “I gave Lucien a chance.”
You stared at her. There weren’t many things that stunned you, but this certainly did. It wasn’t the revelation itself that came as a shock, it was the strong conviction in her voice. That was the Elain you knew. The Elain everybody else didn’t even know existed.
She chuckled softly, taking advantage of the moment. “I thought about it for a long time. And I realised, we both deserve to find out what this could be.”
You took her hand in yours, offering a rare, genuine smile she so often brought upon you. “If this is what you have decided for yourself, it can never be wrong. It’s your life, your mistakes, your choices. No one gets to take them for you, and you’re certainly allowed to make wrong decisions, but you will never know if you just follow everyone else’s standards.“
Her eyes glittered with gratitude, and for the first time in a long while, you saw not the broken pieces of your sister but someone stronger, someone rebuilding. Her true self, strong and determined, finally taking voice.
And as she remembered the very moment she made that decision, you squeezed her hand before letting go.
Earlier that afternoon, Elain sat cross legged on a blanket in the middle of the garden, her hands bloodied by her recent gardening, though she barely noticed. A cup of tie was cooling beside her, untouched, a plate of pastries forgotten, as she stared at the flowers she'd been tending just a moment before. They were thriving, growing beautifully, but this place, beautiful as it was, wasn't the garden she had in the human world she'd left behind. It wasn't hers.
A subtle and familiar tug at the edge of her awareness distracted her. She had ignored it for months, years even. But recently, resisting had become impossible, more than usual. It felt too insisted, too present to deny anymore. Which was strange, since the mating bond hasn't snapped into place for her yet. She almost had hoped it never would. Almost.
She lifted her head just as a flash of auburn caught her eyes.
Lucien. Her… mate.
He was far away, his russet hair catching the light, but her chest tightened as though he was already standing beside her. His presence had been haunting her dreams, creeping into her thoughts, and now even her visions. Vivid glimpses of him, flashes here and there, lingered in her mind more often than she cared to admit.
Sensing her gaze, Lucien's head snapped up and their eyes met. He froze mid motion, finding himself lost in awe by her soft beauty, her petite frame in the middle of the grass, her blue dress all around her like an aura. For him, she was the ultimate vision.
Elain flushed and quickly looked away. The damage, though, was already done. He started to walk closer.
He always did.
It was a matter of seconds before he was standing right before her, his tall frame casting a shadow over the blanket. He spoke carefully, trying to temper his natural boldness. It was as if he expected her withdrawal.
"Everything alright, lady Elain?"
Elain tried to ignore the stuttering of her heart and the tug of the bond caused by the sound of his voice, warm and deep. She avoided his gaze, focusing on her hands instead. "Everything's fine."
Lucien's sharp mechanical eye zeroed in on her hands, still speckled with blood. Without thinking twice, he knelt, taking one of them into his. His touch was light, almost reverent, as he inspected the scratches.
"You're hurt," he murmured.
Elain tried to pull her hand back, but his grip was too firm. "It's nothing," she insisted.
"It's not nothing," he replied, holding her gaze, his golden eye far too serious. It took her aback. "You should never be harmed. Not even by thorns, not by anything.”
For a moment, his words, and the way he said them, stunned her. There was no condescension in his tone, no assumption that she was some little thing that needed protecting at all costs. This wasn't someone dismissing her strength. This was Lucien, holding back instincts she could barely understand. It didn't matter how much it tore him apart, he would still put her needs first and worry about her nonetheless.
And despite herself, Elain found herself half smiling. The smallest curve of her lips, fleeting as it was, made Lucien's heart lurch. He committed it to memory, knowing he might not see it again anytime soon. It was the very first time Elain had smiled at him.
Elain didn't know how to name the butterflies that started flying in her chest as Lucien, with a movement of his hand, erased the scratches from her skin.
"What if I liked it?" she asked suddenly, her question almost a challenge.
Lucien blinked, too distracted by their closeness. "Like... what?"
"The sting of these scratches. What if I like how they feel?" the amusement in her voice surprised even her. "What if that's the reason I love gardening so much?"
Lucien's lips quirked into a smile. "It is?" He appeared really curious about this. As if he wasn’t waiting for anything else than getting a glimpse of her. Even as little as it might be.
Elain hesitated only for a second before giving him a slight nod. She didn't realise it, but with only one sentence she had given him more than years of failed conversations.
Lucien chuckled, the sound warm, his voice softening. "Then I will heal your every scratch so that you can enjoy the sting of the thorns all you like as many times as your heart desires, without worrying about your hands."
Lucien stepped back, not wanting to overstep, giving her the space she always seemed to need. He wouldn't take her arm when she barely offered just the tip of her finger. But Elain felt his absence like a weight pressing on her. The silence between them grew suddenly tense, and she found herself breaking it before she could stop.
“I don’t even know what my heart desires."
Lucien studied her carefully. “That much was clear,” he answered, unable to held back his response. “But you’ve got all the time you need to figure it out."
“Is it that easy to find out?” she met his gaze, the question slipping out of her mouth before she could think better of it. “And what does your heart desire, Lucien?”
His expression tightened for a moment. He closed his eyes briefly, as if to steady himself, then opened them, meeting hers.
Hearing his name in his voice was something majestic. But, how could he answer that question? How could he say those words without seeming an overbearing male, pressing her?
“I suppose it would be to know where you stand," he admitted softly, the weight of the words pressing on his chest.
“Where I stand?” she echoed, her brow furrowing. When the meaning behind his words hit her, she blushed, looking away again. "Oh."
After debating it for a few seconds, Lucien sat down on the edge of the blanket, leaving a careful distance between them. It took everything in him not to take her hand again, but he kept his movement measured. He cleared his throat before speaking again.
“Do you regret asking?”
Elain shook her head. "No. I figured you wanted the truth."
"I do," his was quiet now, a deep note of sincerity. "That's all I ever wanted from you."
For a long moment, Elain said nothing, lost in thoughts. Finally, she looked at him again. Lucien waited for her to force the words out.
“Thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "For always granting me the space I need, for being honest and for... for keeping up with my constant refusal.”
Did she really said that out loud?
Lucien's eye softened, though his jaw tightened, as if holding back a thousand things he wanted to say. Instead, he just nodded, his voice as gentle as she'd ever heard it.
“Your life changed overnight. I would never anything on you, let alone myself.”
Elain looked surprised and she stuttered, unable to find the right words. “But I thought… that day…” she trembled, the trauma of that fateful day still too deep ingrained into her mind. “When you said that we were…” she breathed again, shaking her head. “I thought you were stating a claim.”
Lucien’s breath hitched. He didn’t expect that.
All the unease, all the resentment he felt through the bond, was because she had always believed he was… what? Stating that he had a right to her? Laying a claim on her?
“You misunderstood,” he said gently. “It wasn’t anything like that. Not for me. I would never do that. I was just… surprised. That’s all.”
“Surprised?”
Lucien’s hesitated, his hart beating fast. Memories of his past flashed in front of him, painful. He didn’t like to share, to reminiscing how much he had to endure. He didn’t plan to talk about this with his mate, of all people, either. But he knew she deserved the truth.
How would Elain ever trust him if he wasn’t willing to give her something, anything?
Swallowing down the pain he still carried even after centuries, he spoke up. “I had someone too.”
It was all he managed to say. And Elain understood instantly, her mind wandering back to the human lands, to Greysen, his ex fiancé and the same one he turned against her after her transformation. She remembered how she had hoped he would still want her, that their love was stronger than a mating bond, stronger than her new looks. But she had been mistaken.
“It was centuries ago. We always thought we were mates. But the bond never snapped into place.“
Elain stilled. “But it did with me.”
“Yes,” the honesty in his voice was raw. “I barely whispered the words. But you were newly made like us, your senses had sharpened. I didn’t think before talking, but I was too surprised, to stunned, to do anything else.”
Slowly, every pieces found its rightful place in her mind. And in that moment, she realised something. The mating bond wasn’t something she asked. Of that, she was sure.
But it wasn’t something Lucien asked, either.
"Is she...?"
Lucien's voice turned sharp. "Yes. She's gone."
Elain swallowed hard, her heart aching for him. They had both lost.
Perhaps the Cauldron wasn't entirely wrong. Perhaps this bond wasn't just a cruel twist of fate. Perhaps this was the door towards their second chance. With each other.
She handed him the plate of discarded biscuits, an innocent gesture to lighten the moment. “Take one.”
But Lucien's reaction was anything but light. His russet eye darkened. Her offering felt innocent. Too innocent. A surge of rage dwelled inside him, as he barely held back a growl.
Had anyone at all explained her how faes work? How to move in this new life, in this new body? Or they just discarded her, as if she would know everything just because she was a seer?
"Do you even know what offering food means for us, Elain?" he asked, firmer than he realized but still gentle. "Do not ever offer me food like that, especially if you don't know where you stand and if you don’t want anything to do with me or this bond. Just don't."
Elain was stunned by the dark edge in his tone that betrayed the fire beneath. She froze, stunned. Realization dawned on her, and her cheeks burned.
And that’s when her movement stilled, right at the motion of standing up. She looked at him, who was frozen, ready to let her go, resigned, and Something in his look gauged at her insides. She swallowed, as the truth in front of her laid finally bare.
She had misjudged him, blinded by her pain and trauma. She was the seer, yet she hadn't tried to see him, to understand.
"What if I want to try?" she whispered.
Lucien's heart stopped. He stared at her, searching for the truth in her words, fearing he could have misread. There was no reason Elain, the same girl that had ignored him for years, would suggest something like that. But the thing was, despite her refusal, he never stopped hoping. For the first time after he recognized her as his mate, he felt something else than her rejection.
"I’m not saying I'lI accept it," she clarified, her voice resolute, but she wouldn't apologize for her sharp tone. He wanted to know where she stood? Then he would have his answer. “But I’m tired of running from the truth. Instead, I want to understand it. To understand you."
His eye softened, hope blooming in his chest. He tried to restrain himself and he let out a long breath. “You don't own anyone anything, especially not me."
“I know," she replied softly. "But my stubbornness is not doing us any good. I understand now that whatever this is, is something we both have to live with, not just me. And... I won't refuse - or accept - anything, until I don't understand it."
Lucien’s mechanic eye looked through her, as if trying to convince himself that she wasn't under any spell. "If that's something you want, that is your decision alone, then I will give you whatever you want. Time. Patience. Space. Honesty. But, especially, I swear I will not take more than you're willing to give. Not ever."
She smiled sincerely for the first time in years. And it was directed at him.
"I can take honesty and patience," she murmured, an almost amused smile on her face. "But I think I already took space and time well enough for a lifetime."
Lucien shook his head, tentatively approaching her. "Doesn't matter. If you need them, just say the word, and that’s what you will have."
"Thank you."
Lucien hesitated for only a second before reaching out, silently seeking her permission first. Elain didn't move, and so Lucien let his hand linger on her face, enjoying the feeling of her warm skin.
And as he tucked a lock of hair behind her hear, Elain knew she would never forget the look on his face.
It was as though she had handled him the world.
And, perhaps, that's exactly what she did.
Back in the present, Elain grew quiet, her gaze distant as if lost in a labyrinth of memories. You didn't dare interrupt her, letting her have the moment she seemed to need, not pushing, not asking questions. Instead, you turned your attention to your wardrobe, absently sorting through the dresses hanging inside.
Blue and dark. The typical palette of the Nigh Court. You couldn’t help but snort, shaking your head.
Elain stared at her hands for a long moment, as though searching for the right words. “He’s coming with us to the human lands,” her soft voice reached you tentatively but steadily. “It will be our first official... date.”
You turned, a smirk already forming on your lips. “Already calling it a date?” you teased. “Does he want to court you now?”
Elain blinked, cheeks tinting pink/then looked away. “I don’t… I don’t know. But I want to be ready.”
"Ready?" You chuckled knowingly. “You’re serious about this.”
Elain's fingers played with the edge of her sleeve, her expression distant for a moment. “I am,” she admitted, her tone holding an uncharacteristic firmness. Then, as if deciding something, she said softly, “I want to make a good impression.”
You leaned against the wardrobe, arms crossed. “Oh, darling,” you shook your head, grinning. “You already have Lucien wrapped around your little finger. Quite literally, he had been ready to court you since the moment you were made. You don’t need a fancy dress to make any impression. That poor male will lose his mind just by looking at your eyes.”
Elain blush deepened, but she didn't deny it. “I just want him to know I’m serious about this. That I’m not just… playing around.”
Your heart softened. You wanted to tell her that he already believed that, that she didn't need to prove anything. You knew how much he wanted this, a real chance with Elain. Over the years, you'd grown close to Lucien, enough to count him as a friend, maybe the only one in that place.
Elain knew that, and it had never been an issue. You'd never pushed her to share more than she wanted with him. But now, seeing her trying to step out of her shell, and choosing to move forward instead of always look back, differently from you, made you unexpectedly proud. She deserved this. They both did.
“Then you'd better wear your best dress,” you grinned.
Elain sighed, brushing her fingers along the fabric of her skirt. “I don’t like Night Court fashion but… I think it will have to do for now.”
“I've got you covered here, sister," you offered. "I miss my human clothes too.”
Elain turned towards the door, but not before throwing a sly glance your way over her shoulder. “You don’t miss human dresses, y/n, you just miss their colors.”
Scoffing, you wavered her off, even though she wasn’t completely wrong. "Oh, please."
But her amused voice carried on. “You will be back in those shades you’ve always obsessed over soon enough. You could already, if only you weren’t so stubborn.”
You let her go, without responding, her words lingering in the room like a distant echo. She wasn't wrong, though. There was nothing stopping you, if you decided to. You wouldn’t let anyone, not even the Night Court’s Inner Circle, dictate anything for you, let alone your choices. And there were plenty of shops in Velaris selling the vivid, warm and earthy tones that once defined you. Yet, something about wearing them here, in this court, under their scrutinizing gazes, it just felt... wrong.
So you just went along. Stuck to the dark, muted colors of the court, as you let them cloak you like a shadow.
You never belonged anywhere, anyway. Fae or human, it didn't matter. Even now, reunited with your so called family, you would always be out of the world. An outsider everywhere you went.
It was easier to just... remain that way and to play along with it.
And that was fine. You were used to that.
Later, you and Elain met at the top of the stairs. She practically buzzed with excitement, her hands fluttering nervously at her side. You, in contrast, barely managed a shrug. The only thing pulling you along was the promise of leaving Velaris behind, at least for s little while. Even if Rhys and Feyre's presence would still follow.
"Are you nervous?" you asked, glancing at Elain.
She drew in a deep breath. "A little," she admitted.
Together, you descended the stairs, and here they were. Rhysand and Feyre, in their usual black and blue attire, and Lucien, dressed in his ever-effortless finery, stood talking with them.
The moment Elain arrived, though, his attention shifted entirely. His gaze swept over her, taking in the way her light blue dress flowed around her frame, her hair loosely pulled back, as if she had fretted over it but stopped herself from doing too much. She glanced back, her gaze almost hesitant but lingering, testing the waters of her own bravery. When their eyes met, her heart stumbled and his eye softened as though he could see every unspoken thought she couldn't yet voice.
You walked behind Elain, letting them have their moment, and you didn’t need to look at Feyre to feel her gaze studying you, dissecting you. The sigh that followed was soft, but you heard it light and clear. Another silent judgement, but you ignored it, as you always did. You had gotten used to the way the Night Court worked: all control wrapped in silk and smiles. Feyre's mask was perfect, but it didn't fool you.
"Let's try to keep it subtle and to not draw attention to ourselves, shall we?" Feyre said, her arm already tingled with Rhysand’s. It was impossible not to notice the way all of them, Rhysand included, used their hair to mask the pointed ears as much as possible.
You snorted at her words. Subtle. Hide. That was always the answer with them, wasn't it? Blending in, so would somehow make you less of a target. But it didn't matter, because you could blend in all you wanted and you'd still feel the same.
Why going to the human lands at all if you had to hide what you were?
If only they could understand. This wasn't just about hiding pointed years. You had spent your entire life, both of them, feeling like a shadow in someone else's world. And now, even here, you wore a mask all of them believed in, never letting anyone see past it.
It was a mask you had worn so long that you weren't sure how to take off, even if you wanted to.
As the group prepared to winnow, you couldn't help but notice the way Lucien stood closer to Elain, his fingers brushing hers before gently twining them together. The gesture was tentative, as he expected her to pull away. But she didn't. Instead, she glanced up at him with a quiet smile reddened cheeks.
At least your sister was getting there, slowly but surely.
And, for now, that had to be enough.
Part 2
A.N: I apologise again for the length, I hope the next chapters will be shorter. If you arrived here, thank you so much for reading, and I hope you liked that! Also, my asks are always open, so if you want to ask something about this story or make a request, I answer everyone!
If you want to be added in the taglist, let me know.
Taglist: @wrenisrad @antisocial-architect @homeslices @fox-in-flowers @thecraziestcrayon @bunnyredgirl @lizzytish82 @lportes-22 @wolfstar-marvelsfan @iowaladynerd @samuelseoswife
#acotar#acotar fandom#acotar fanfiction#fanfiction#lucien vanserra#pro lucien vanserra#eris vanserra#pro eris vanserra#vanserra brothers#autumn court#eris x y/n#eris x you#eris x reader#eris x oc#elucien#pro elucien#elain x lucien#elain archeron#pro elain archeron#mating bond#fated mates#anti feysand#anti feyre#x reader#reader insert
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'cause I love this curse on our house



clarisse la rue x fem!demigod!reader
summary: !THIS WAS A REQUEST THAT I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED! the requester wanted a fic about clarisse and reader breaking up after an argument, and after months apart from eachother, reader appears at the ares cabin at 3am because she couldn't sleep without clarisse.
warnings: sparring violence, angst, hurt/comfort, arguing, fluff at the end.
a/n: im sooo sorry I accidentally deleted ur request😭🙏 but I hope this is to your liking, and thank you for your kind words🩷🎀
wc: 3.1k
"I never learned to lose a fight, I never learned to grow upright. this is who we are."
-back to you, flowerface
----
Clarisse wondered to herself, on whether or not you'd come running to her if she were to stake this spear through her chest.
Surely, you would? Sensible, independant and stubborn you.
She knew it'd take more than some flowers and half assed apology to get you to speak to her again, and with that knowledge in her head, she isn't sure what that would mean for your relationship.
Clarisse La Rue would rather die than be caught begging for your forgiveness. She would also consider maiming herself as a last resort for any problem she's ever had.
But it has been 3 months, and everyone knows about the 3 months rule.
3 months into dating, 3 months after a breakup. And yet so far, neither of you have tried to "happy new years" your way into eachother's life again.
It is a painful observation for the girl to make. And it's more painful for her to admit that she is at least 40% in the wrong.
That is the thing about the two of you, you become abrasive everytime you're upset, and Clarisse becomes confrontational everytime she is upset. On a normal day, those traits are opposite.
The truth was, Clarisse knew deep down how flawed she is as a person, and as a lover. She is a fighter at heart.
And though she'll admit, she's one of the best out there, being the daughter of a literal war god, but sometimes it feels like that's all she's good for. Does she want to love? Yes. Does she know how to? Not really.
She loves the early hours with you before everybody wakes up, trying to convince you to stay longer in her bed before you sneak out to avoid being noticed.
She loves the intimacy of your hands instinctively intertwining in a cabin party where the music is too loud and people are brushing against you in almost every corner as they try to dance or make their way out, and no one is paying attention to how her thumb caresses your knuckles.
She loves your lips, and how they feel around her neck as you bury your head in the crook of it from behind.
And at one point in the past, she loved how easy it was to be with you. Not the deep connection or understanding, but the way you wouldn't hold it against her if she were to pretend she didn't hear say hi as you walked past her. And how you didn't mind sneaking into her bed after midnight and the darkness becomes the only witness of your loving glances and tight embraces.
But Clarisse was quick to realize later on. that she might want more than that with you. It all felt impossible. Her reputation, her need to always look the toughest and never having a visible weakspot that might be used against her in the future.
And exposing you as her Achilles' heel, would mean that everything she's worked so hard for would break down into pieces the moment the news is out.
Her father already views her as a mistake. Something that could never be his. And for that she's had to work twice as hard as any of her siblings, and still be the least worthy in his eyes.
Were you worth risking all of that? She doesn't know. She doesn't think she ever will, now that it's all over.
And what about you?
What part did you play in cutting down the fragile line of rope the two of you had stood on?
Well, you were strong, opiniated, and rational. So fucking rational that it pissed her off. While she was losing her mind watching you laughing and giggling in the corner by a tree with some random dude that looked like he was birthed by a rat hybrid during the end of year party being held in camp. You were completely fine with not being with her.
Of course she knew that whatever going on between you two was a secret, but why were you so fine with it? Are you not affected by her the way she is with you?
"I'm playing the game by your rules, this is what you wanted." You had snapped at her after she dragged you away from your boring date into a secluded part into the forest. "This isn't a game." She had blurted out in frustration.
"Isn't it? Whenever you want me, I'm there. Whenever you don't, it's like I've never existed." And you were right. This was what she wanted. Despite herself and her feelings, this was how she treated you.
"We know we're together, why does anyone else needs to know that?" Clarisse asked instead of telling you what she really wanted to.
"Are you ashamed of me, Clarisse?" She could not answer your question. I'm ashamed of myself. She thought.
Can't you see? You are the only person who's been patient enough to wait for me, to stay with me. But then I'm looking for you in every crowd just to see that you don't even notice my absence.
Oh fuck it, in the end of the day, it would've never worked. Her thoughts countered againts one another.
Clarisse La Rue was born angry, all she ever knew to be, is angry. Her shortcomings is her inability to be gentle with those she loves the most, her need to break and rip every sensitive soul that has ever pitied her enough to try and pull out that ancient rage holed up in her chest.
"You were nothing without me. I found you, I gave you something to care about, something to anchor yourself to. Cause gods, you act like you don't give a shit, but you care so much that you make yourself believe that you don't care about being tossed aside, like it doesn't hurt you when I don't look twice on your way in front of other people."
The way she looked at you as she spat each and every word onto your face, was worse than the things she had actually said.
You scoffed at her, even with tears in your eyes, you glared at her and laughed out bitterly, refusing to sob or break under her stare.
"You know what your problem is, Clarisse?" You asked, even with the cracks in your voice, her spine shivered. "Indulge me." She forced out.
"You are so miserable, that you can't stand to see anyone else that isn't. You just need me to be pissed and devestated so you could feel better about yourself. Cause Gods forbid if you don't view your self worth on how less everyone else is." Clarisse says nothing, she knew you weren't finished.
"But I don't need to fuck over anyone else's life to know that I'm good. I'm perfectly fucking fine. I was fine before you, and I'll- I'll be fine after you." And there it was. That was where it all came crashing down.
Clarisse bad one second to say fuck all, to cut down all the bullshit. To admit that for once in her life, she was tired of fighting, and she had no clue what she's doing.
But as she opened her mouth to say it all, something in the shadow of her ego had restrained her tongue from speaking at all.
And so you watched her close her lips tight, and grieved then apology she never gave, the girl she couldn’t be for you. And then you left.
Everyone steered clear from Clarisse's way, unsure of what was getting on her nerves, and not caring enough to want to know.
And that night became the last time the two of you have ever spoke to eachother.
"Clarisse." Her brother's voice snaps her out of her thoughts. He was in position with his spear.
"Aim for my chest, remember to move your feet like taught you." She instruced him, fixing her own stance. "Go."
The boy moves quickly, and just like she envisioned in her head for ten thousand times in the just a few minutes ago, her feet drags.and her hand slows down for a second- because all it took is a second for the spear to slash her chest, and slams her down on her back.
---
Growing up, you had always earned the title of the "easy" one. Compared to your step-siblings, you had caused the least problem, required the least attention, asked the least questions.
You always knew what to do. You took care of your siblings when your parent couldn't, you knew how to take care of them the way your parent would. You knew when to get things done before you were told to, you knew where the pills were whenever you weren't feeling where. And you knew which secrets were better kept to yourself.
That one doesn't need watching over, they'd say about you. Even as you're being sent over to camp quick enough before the monsters acended, you were still not worth being worried over.
Someone who takes care of others so well, sure knows how to take care of themselves, right? Right.
Of course you're self sufficient, of course even know, you know where to find medication before your sickness gets worse. Or course even now, you know just the right things to tell people so you'd be left alone.
That was the bright side of raising yourself and growing up in an environment that made you feel so alone, you get used to the silence as the company gets smaller and smaller.
But no one ever said that loneliness felt good, even as a person who's found comfort in it. Because the truth of it, is that it's the sinking feeling in your stomach that you get addicted to. It is the repetitive cycle of breaking down that feels like home, because that's the only constant thing that have prevailed in your life.
What Clarisse had given you, with her presence, her rare tenderness and welcoming touches, was something new that had altered your entire defense system. Hope. She had given you hope.
And as you stood in the house that fell all over you, surviving the damage just like you always do. You realised just how stupid you were to even think that this time it would be different.
The news of Clarisse's injury spread like wildfire. And after repressing your emotions for the longest time, you felt your chest tightening from a familiar feeling.
Clarisse have taken blows before, but never this bad, never this serious. You know that she'd heal in time, but it doesn't stop you from worrying.
How could she be so stupid and careless? Being slammed down by a younger sibling nonetheless. Even if she has no regard for her physical safety, she must have one for her pride.
She's never so easily distracted or foolish, this injury and including her little spear incident has been looked upon by others as a moment of weakness for her. They are starting to wonder if Clarisse was ever that competent in the first place, or if she has just been making it look like she is.
You tossed and turned on your bed. The sheets don't feel right against your skin. It must be the heat, you tell yourself. It must be the heat because it cannot be the deprivation of Clarisse's cold skin from yours.
Demigods do not medicate the same way mortals do, and yet without anyone knowing, you've been swallowing down melatonin almost every night to be able to fall asleep.
It's not easy to get, the last hidden stock of it from the medical room finished 3 nights ago. And if no one had noticed your sleeping problems before, they do now because of your visible under eye bags.
Your hands have been shaking, a side effect of mortal drugs. It has also been making you more jumpy, anxious.
The worst of it all is how all those symptoms only worsens your sleeping problems now. As if seasonal depression itself isn't bad enough, now you're capable of staying up all night revisiting old haunting memories.
It's easy to distract yourself in the day with all the training and learning to do.
But no one survives the cruel coldness that the night presents itself with. When your only friend is the empty ceiling staring back down at you, and the only kind of blanket you want are the ones that feels like her arms.
It was ironic, you still wanted her the way a kicked dog would still roll over if asked to.
You had left her with your head held up high. But only the gods know how low to the ground you'd kneel down to for her to look at you again the way she used to.
If she had wanted you more lenient, then she could've just asked. If she had needed you to need her more then you would've begged for her if she would've just told you.
Pushing aside the soft material of your blanket off of you, your feet barely makes a sound as you tiptoed to the door to exit your cabin.
You told yourself you don't really know where you're going. But you moved in the same way you had 3 months ago, the road is memorized, the pace is as similar, and the yearning is twice as strong.
The moom followed you from above, lightimg the way as you walked on the ground from the pavements to patches of grass.
When you found yourself in front of the Ares cabin, you truly asked yourself if you have even an ounce of shame or sense left in your head. The answer was none, all that lived inside of you was dread, ever growing. The last straw before the breaking.
The last chance that looks a little too late to be taking for.
And yet as you pull open the door ever so slightly the way you used to, you feel it being held static before a creaking noise could be made. And like memories you've seen flashing in your mind multiple times before, your eyes meet Clarisse's.
"What are you doing here?"
"What are you doing up?"
You spoke at the same time as her. Both of you looked as surprised as the other.
As you took in eachother's appearance, Clarisse looks at you expectedly, considering that you are the one who isn't at your cabin. "I...wanted to see you."
Her expression changes slightly, as if she wasn't expecting that answer.
"Weird hour to visit." She noted. "Weird hour to be up by the door after you're slashed on the chest by a spear."
The two of you stared at eachother in silence before you notice Clarisse's chest heaving as she breathed out a low sigh. "Do you want to come in?" She whispered out to you. You nod your head once and waited for her to move aside so you could be let in.
Naturally, your hand found hers. She clasped her fingers over yours without a question as the two of you walked towards her bed.
Sitting dowm side by side, you eye the outline of her face closely in the dark, some sort of relief is released in your chest. "How bad is the damage?" You asked slowly. You almost reached up to brush a strand of hair away from her face, but caught yourself.
"Could've been worse." Was her response.
"Does it hurt right now?" You inquired again. You hear her inhale sharply and wondered if breathing was hard for her. "Yeah."
"I'm sorry." You weren't sure what else to tell her. To know that she was in pain had hurt you as well, but a larger part of you did not really care for her injury. Only now do you realise how much being away from her have affected you.
Now, in much closer proximity, your breathing fans her skin, the back of her hand touching yours, and her eyes unmoving from yours, do you realise just how much you needed Clarisse La Rue.
"It doesn't hurt as much as having to watch you leave." She spoke those words in a hushed whisper, meant only for your ears. If only dhe has been a little louder. You would've been able to hear the halt in the back of her throat. "No?" You whispered back to her. "No."
"I wouldn't have left, if you would've just asked me to stay."
"I know. I know you would." She mutters it affectionately, the cold shoulder already gone. "I know you would...you've always been good to me."
You swallowed the lump in your throat and held your tears in. "Then why didn't you?"
Clarisse shrugged. "I'm never good to you."
You frowned at her reply, feeling a jolt of anger striking through you. "But you could be. Why won't you be good to me, Clarisse?" Water gathered in your eyes, your primise yo refrain from crying broken.
"I would give you anything. I would give you my life. Could you just be good to me, Clarisse?" You told yourself that you wouldn't ask this question again, no matter how much of a dog you feel like, you won't force her to give you a bone.
And so with a tear running down your cheek, you looked up at her pleadingly and thought, please, see me, want me, love me. Need me the way I need you.
Her forehead softly rests againts yours, and you hear her then, mumbling."I could be good. I could be good to you."
Her thumb finds the wet streak on your face and wipes it off. "I want to be good to you."
"Then do that. It's that easy." She shakes her head lightly, making your frown deepens. "I've had to be this person that everyone expects me to be, because of my father, and my siblings. Sometimes giving in, feels like it could be death itself. Sweet dreams before you wake up in hell. That's what it feels like trying to be the person you want me to be. Punishment worthy."
"But it isn't death, Clarisse. Not just because someone else thinks it should be.
- Not just because your father thinks so."
"I know." She answers with a more reassuring tone.
"I haven't been able to sleep without you." You tell her out of obligation. "I can tell." She joked, the both of you chuckled lightly.
Clarisse then crawled over her bed to lie down and tugged you by your sleeve to find your place in her embrace again.
Laying your head above the area her chest was struck on, her beating heart becomes your lullaby. You fell asleep soon after, with your legs tangled together under the covers. Whatever was to happen tomorrow, it wouldn't matter. Because the worst was over.
#clarisse la rue#clarisse la rue x reader#pjo series#pjo tv show#dior goodjohn#pjo#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson and the olympians#percy jackson
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𝙵𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕 𝚏𝚝. 𝙷𝚢𝚎𝚠𝚘𝚗 𝚡 𝙼𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
Tags : Light Angst, Drinking, Hate Sex, Rough Sex (It gets rough), Daddy Kink, Degradation, Belly Bulging, Fingering, and one mention of peeing.
A/N: First fic finally came out... Thank God! I just want to say thanks to @capslocked for introducing me to other writers that helped me out. Thank you @gangplanksorenji, @ggidolsmuts, @iznsfw, and @fillinforlater for editing and guiding a beginner like me. Also thank you to the other writers (that didn't want their name to be mentioned.)
A glimpse, no. Perhaps a little longer, a gaze maybe? How about something more drawn out, a stare? To and away, you stared. “This is getting dangerous,” you deemed all the while staring at her.
The two of you walked slowly in the wet, desolate streets—admiring the peaceful solace the night brought. The streets lighting up but dying down; a moonlight gleam hugged her delicate features. The midnight dress emphasised her pale beautiful skin, foregrounded by the starry night. The base of her neck—her defined collarbone seeping down to her chest—caressed by the midnight breeze.
The rushing rain trailed off of your face. Her hand held yours, pulling you through city streets. Twisting through your callous hand, your hands intertwined. A mistake maybe? No matter. If it was you from the past it might’ve posed a problem but not anymore. By pure instinct, you grasped hers as well, strengthening the purest form of human connection.
A light flashed at the corner of your eye, the bus stop sign reflecting the moonlight glare. She seemed to not mind the rain, but you didn’t want her getting sick. A pull, strong enough to take control but gentle enough not to hurt her, was all it took to break her gait. You pulled her towards the bus stop, sheltering the both of you from the rain.
Admittedly, you pulled her a tad too hard; and Hyewon, unable to stop, came crashing onto your torso. Not wanting gravity to take control, you stiffened up.
“Yah!” she growled.
Your arms welcomed the crashing Hyewon, wrapping her in a tight embrace. Wet. Both of your clothes drenched and hers even more noticeable—her soaked clothes clung onto her body, tightening around every single curve, the very definition of form-fitting. You felt it all: the warmth of her hand on your pecs and her hot humid breath making its way up to you.
Seeing her eyes squeeze shut and her lips quiver, you brought her closer to you—embracing her a little while longer in hopes of soothing her distress.
You held her by her shoulders, “Sorry! Are you ok?” full of concern.
She unwrapped her eyelids, “Y-yeah. I’m fine. You just… surprised me, that’s all.”
You plopped her down on the bench, safe from the rain. Shivering, probably because of the cold, you took off your coat and wrapped it around her—not taking “no” for an answer.
“Oh… thanks.” She looked up, her eyes like that of a raindrop—reflecting your irises into hers. Hyewon would normally be easy to read. She was the type of person to lay it all bare—making you comfortable knowing she didn’t have any ulterior motives, but this time felt a little different. Her irises reflected the care and intimacy you had for her. You tried to look away but you were immediately drawn back in.
You take a kneel, your face now half an arms length away from her, only now do you notice the peaks of her mounds piercing through her dress. Bare. With every breath, her thin frame expanded and contracted. The fragility of her body displayed itself in all its glory.
“It worked out anyways,” her voice brought you back to your senses, “You dragged us to where I planned to go.”
And so, you waited for the next bus to arrive. A moment of peace and tranquility, a moment so plain from which insanity can derive from. Yet you felt your consciousness ebb away, and as clear as your thoughts were mere moments ago, your head slowly swayed into the flow of the wind. At once, you were struck with a certain heaviness. Your head over your shoulder, on the lookout, only to see Hyewon’s head leaning against it. Unbeknownst to you, your cheeks flushed red like a paper lantern, the city serving as backdrop. Were you able to disassociate yourself tangibly, the scene transpiring right now painted a romantic cliche.
A beam of light made its way around the corner—the bus finally arrived. “Hyewon,” you shook her by her shoulders. A small shift but nothing more. “You’re joking?” you murmured.
“Where did she even want to go…?” A heave and a ho, you carried her like a log. The driver motioned towards an empty seat in the back row. You sat her down once again with utmost care to not wake her up. Her head flailed towards the window—thump, thump, thump—hitting the window as the bus rode through the bumps. Your hand broke through the space in between and pulled her head closer up against your shoulder, her head resting on your shoulder once again.
Deep asleep, she didn’t notice you going through her bag in search of anything indicating the location of her humble abode. It didn’t take long, Gyeoul Gong-gan Apartment Unit 381. “Wait… we live in the same apartment. What am I doing?” you mused, your thoughts clearly influenced by the devil’s nectar. With a tolerance stronger than most, weakness struck with a heavy advantage. Clearly not used to it, your eyes grew heavy and fell—only putting up a tiny struggle before your head soon followed.
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Flashback…
The pitter-pattering of the rain echoed throughout your apartment. The once lively place now reflected the same gloom the weather gave off. Oddly enough, it was calming for you. It served as a nice distraction to what used to be an apartment teeming with happiness and laughter—enough to rack up multiple noise complaints—now filled with a dreadful quietness, constantly reminding you of your lonesome. Minutes slipped by without notice, you found yourself staring at the ceiling with no recollection of the events prior to your sleep. Whether it be the drinks or the stress of university life, nights were no longer the same. There was never a release, a sigh of relief like there used to be, but it was all a subconscious effort to distract yourself.
After a couple of seconds, your pillow started to vibrate, or so you thought. It took quite some time before you could get his body moving but you did. You have one missed call. Suddenly, you felt rejuvenated. “Did she call?” you scrambled out of your bed, “I knew it was all going to be okay.” And similar to that of a balloon, you deflated—shoulders slumping and your breath slipping out—just as quickly as you scrambled. “Hey man… wanna go out to eat,” the message read out, “Class is starting again, the others are worried about you.” It was your best friend, Seonghoon.
It’s been a while since your friend group last hung out together; and because of the pandemic, the first years of your university life took place online. Little did you know that this supposedly forgettable and uneventful time in your life would actually be your undoing. One that would imprint a mark inside that would slowly gnaw at you from the inside out. Like a boat hemmed in the fog—fog so light it looked like cotton, fog so light that you couldn’t help but underestimate it—the captain’s head on a swivel. So desperate, you looked for any light that shone through the softest white that enveloped you. Clouded. And there it was, the fire and the glow in the form of a girl. More luster than the starry sky and more luminous than the lone lantern in the night. Like the vacuum of space, she took you in with a pull stronger than that of black holes. The same dark nothingness in the middle of the starry sky, she was a person of immeasurable depth—an abyss, so enthralling you couldn’t let your gaze slip.
The fire that embraced you with the warmth in the cold darkness, turned out to be the same fire that would reduce you to ashes—to nothing but a former shell of yourself. She called the tune and you listened. The tidal waves that would move as the moon influenced. The same body of water that would be lifeless without movement, “Maybe it was for the better.” She pulled the string—the tension tighter than an ancient lyre—and you broke.
Your phone vibrates once more, this time an alarm. Laundry - 3:00 pm. It was that time of the week but this one was more important than the last. Everyone was getting ready to go back to face-to-face classes after two years and first impressions were very important. But with dark circles under your eyes and a gaze so flat, it cut the air—you weren’t in the most presentable state. It took some incredible self-persuasion for you to finally get moving. Granted, all you had done so far was wash your face and wear some new clothes, but it was a step in the right direction no matter how minute it was. After taking some time to fix yourself up, you scanned your apartment. The acrid smell of the multiple leftovers pierced your nostrils—strong and stinging, you choked up—finally snapping you out of your sad-stricken state, even if only for a moment. Immediately realizing the gravity of the situation, you hurriedly grabbed your washed and dirty clothes and took them down to the laundromat.
It didn’t take long for you to go down the flight of stairs and reach the laundromat. An orange hue struck past the window, a nice and calming atmosphere, or so it would have been if you hadn’t confined yourself in your room; essentially locking yourself away from all sunlight other than the dim and gloomy light struggling through the thickness of the curtains, like that of an eclipse.
It’s been six months since your apartment was last filled with the voice of another and even longer since you last met up with your friends. “Maybe I should go…?” you questioned yourself, “What if I kill the vibe though?” You went back up the stairs and cleaned your apartment while waiting for the laundry. It didn’t take long, as the orange hue was still there when you went back downstairs. Quicker than you thought, you found some free time; memories of smiles and laughter came flooding in. You had so much free time now… time that would have normally been spent wit—
The laundry came to a stop unnoticed, but the cycle signal broke your train of thought. You collected your clothes and brought them back up. 1… 2… 3… 4… The elevator taking longer than usual, your mind wandered once again. A tiny grin started to form on your face, quickly turning itself upside down. “Damn… I’m really gonna live with this for quite some ti—”
“Oh my God, it’s been so long!” a voice interrupted, “remember me?”
A dazed, “Huh?” slipped out; with furrowed brows and squinted eyes, you tried to identify the owner of the voice but to no avail. Silence filled the air momentarily, “Uh… I think you have the wrong guy,” you suggested.
“Oh, come on! It’s me,” she swiped a lock of disheveled hair, “How about now?”
Your jaw fell, words stuck in your throat, “Hye—Hyewon? What are you doing here?”
“What do you mean? I live here,” she retorted, “So… you’re getting your things ready for class, huh?” A puzzled look appeared on your face, “Don’t tell me you also go to Seoul University.”
“Also…?” her eyes widened, a realization, “What are you majoring in?”
“Architecture,” they said in parallel to each other. “Jinx! You owe me a soda,” she exclaimed.
“Wha—” a smug face greeted you, “How did you know?”
She turned her head away, “That’s a secret.”
“You can’t be serious, right? I’m busy right now,” you exhaled.
“You can just buy me one some other time,” she presented her phone, “Just give me your phone number. I changed mine a while back.” In a rush, you quickly put it in and disappeared from her view.
———————————————
The bustling city filled your senses: the people being dragged by the unseeing hand of capitalism, the awful artificial vibrations of the many cars racing to get to their workplaces, the smell of the tears of the hardworking man, and the swell of humanity creeping in everyone’s personal space. It all slowly crept in—like the vignette forming in your vision. All sounds slowly if not suddenly muffled themselves.
A tap on the shoulder, “Yo… you good?” your head subtly swung, mimicking that of a pendulum, a response but not to the question. “Y-yeah… Sorry, I zoned out.”
“It’s our stop soon, get your things,” Seonghoon told you. "By the way have you heard of the new—” A ring broke the one-sided conversation—Hyewon was calling. “Oooh, so you have got someone?” he teased.
You waved Seonghoon off and answered the phone. “He—Hi!” a snicker from Seonghoon earned another wave. The voice on the phone echoed, “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what I said last time? I was waiting for you, you know?”
“Right… yeah. Of course, I remember,” you replied, “There’s a Korean BBQ spot I know downtown. Are you free this Friday?” Your reply earned a smirk from your friend. “Alright then, just call me. I’ll pick you up.”
“And with that, the date has been set,” you exhaled.
Seonghoon’s brows furrowed, “It’s a date?!?!?”
Eyes widened, “What!? No, no, no! I meant the date September 14!”
A playful punch hit you on your shoulder, “Relax… I was just messing with you. It’s our stop by the way.” Seonghoon led the way while you followed. It was quite a trek before you would reach the main campus, eventually splitting up due to the difference in departments. You would then drag your drained self through the day, and all of a sudden it was nighttime.
The swell of humanity had already dissipated, and what remained were the remnants of people picking themselves back up from their busy day. There were also a few people—whether responsible or irresponsible, we’ll never know—burning the midnight oil. Some people were playing catch-up, while others were trying to get ahead of everyone else. It just made it clear that everyone was moving without a single care for your own problems.
And with less than three days to prepare and classes taking up most if not all of your time, it was physically impossible to be at your best.
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The sound of sizzling meat mixed with the aroma of seasonings and sauces fill your senses as you enter the building. The aroma was intoxicating, causing your mouth to water—yet you couldn’t do anything but wait as you and Hyewon stood outside waiting to be ushered to your seats.
Korea just transitioned away from its pandemic protocols. It’s been ages since you last ate out by yourself, let alone with the company of someone else.
“Is it only going to be the two of you?” the waiter asked. You nodded in response.
“Just follow me.” The waiter motioned towards an empty seat. You allowed your partner to go first (now don’t get it wrong, you guys aren’t in that type of relationship) displaying your gentlemanly behavior. Partners, in a non-romantic way, just seems like the appropriate way to call it
The both of you sat down to where the waiter ushered you. You were welcomed by a soft yellow hue coming through the window from the lamppost outside. A calming atmosphere radiated from where you sat—the seats being padded which allowed for some of your stiffness to disappear.
Taking a short look around, your architectural senses started tingling. Things you wouldn’t have noticed before become apparent—Greek pillars lifted the ceiling to a higher degree than normal, to allow for a spacious and comfortable feeling, while small pots of flowers hung from the ceiling reminded you of ancient history, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon to be exact.
Ancient history… well, that’s another way to describe what you and Hyewon have going on. It’s been ages since you guys last met yet somehow you’re here eating with her, like it was just the good old days.
Anyways, it was kind of weird that a Korean barbecue restaurant had such a niche and unique design. The theme didn’t really match, like, who would pair the straight and harmonious architecture of the Greeks with a casual and relaxed establishment? The contrast between the two didn’t make sense from an outsider’s perspective but you guess it was a quality restaurant. There was an hour long line after all, so people must like it.
After looking around, you finally found your vision was naturally attracted to her face. You did look at everything else already so it just made sense to focus on the one last thing you haven’t paid attention to, whether on purpose or not.
Hyewon was definitely beautiful but you never really got a proper look at her. It wasn’t like you’d just randomly stare at her for a good ten seconds or so, that’d be weird… but it was happening right now. However, things are unexpectedly in your favor. Right now, all of her attention was directed towards the menu—if this was any other world, she’d have made a hole through the menu with how intense her gaze was.
It was clear she took great care of her appearance. Her skin was smooth to the touch, you imagine. Her lips were full and upturned at the corners, giving her a soft look of innocence. Hair, long and draped over her shoulders like the gentle waves of the ocean. Eyes, large and expressive—almost giving you a full view to what she was thinking—and her beauty was enhanced by her effortless charm and grace… or lack thereof. You knew that when it came to the grace part, she wasn’t the most graceful whenever food was in front of her.
You guys ordered some grilled pork belly accompanied by an assortment of side-dishes and some good old soju. With excellent service, your order arrived within ten minutes. She had just gone to the bathroom to touch up her makeup—so light that you didn’t even notice she had put it on. She returned at basically the perfect time.
“Hey! Are you going to help me or not?” She exclaimed, ready to put the meat on. You were staring at her again—no menu to distract her this time.
“Y-yeah… Sorry, I was just thinking about some things.” You reached out for the tongs she was handing you.
“It’s just our first week. Is there something wrong?” she asked with a hint of concern.
Eureka! The contrast between the straight and harmonious architecture of the Greeks and the relaxed and casual establishment perfectly reminded you of Hyewon. Her soft and innocent look, that just radiated charm and grace, was in complete contrast to how she actually acts around people. She was always a genuine person that did and said whatever she wanted. She never bothered to please other people just for the sake of it. Kind of weird that you’re comparing a restaurant to a person but that’s what happens to architecture majors.
You brushed away all of your thoughts. “No, no, no. It’s not a school thing,” you replied quickly, trying to clear her concern.
“Hmmm… If you say so.” She hesitated, trying not to pry. “Anyways, let’s start cooking for real this time. Let’s leave all that stuff for another time.”
You finally started cooking. You laid the pieces of meat over the piping hot grill. You watched as it cooked itself from the overwhelming heat coming from the grill. You watched as the raw fat from the pork belly slowly transformed to a nice golden brown and its juices slowly dripped off the edge. You were so absorbed into watching the meat being cooked that you didn’t even begin to notice the rustic scent of the grill slowly change to that of a tasty aroma. The sound of the crackling fat over the heat was nothing but music to your ears. You couldn’t read minds but you could tell that Hyewon shared the same thoughts as you. As far as you could tell, she was still the same Hyewon from your high school days that loved anything related to food.
You watched as the piece of meat slowly metamorphosed from a raw and inedible piece of meat to something irresistible.
Finally, it was time for you two to dig in. You reached out to grab the tongs and place the pieces of meat onto both of your plates.
Hyewon took the first bite with amazing speed as if it was a race. Her cheeks puffed up and just as quickly as she reached for it, she gasped for air. She made a fanning motion trying to get as much cold air in her mouth as possible. You offered her a drink to wash it down but she refused. She didn’t want her first bite to be diluted with alcohol.
“I know you want to savor it but… is this really the way?” you laughed as she stood up, trying to get even more air. It took a moment but she sat down soon after.
“Whew… That was an invigorating first bite.” She heaved.
“Yeah… Burning your mouth is definitely one way to feel alive and healthy,” you retorted. Concerned, you proposed a compromise to the hungry Hyewon. “Let’s eat some of the side dishes while we wait for it to cool, okay?”
“Fine…” her eyes downcast. The side dishes were quickly consumed, and it was, again, the time for the main dish.
You saw her all giddy and full of energy, making tiny quiet claps in anticipation—you couldn’t help but find it adorable. And for the rest of the main event, you found yourself constantly distracted by the amount of happiness Hyewon radiated with every bite. “So this is what parents feel like when they say that they can feel full just from watching their children eat,” you thought.
Some time passed by; conversations came and went, more pieces of meat were cooked and eaten, and drinks were poured and emptied.
“So… why did you major in architecture?” If it was any other person, it would’ve been difficult to discern what she just said. Hyewon’s cheeks were puffed up, trying to do two things at the same time—enjoy some food whilst talking to you.
“You know you shouldn’t talk with your mouth full right?” an awful attempt to change the topic. Her cheeks slowly deflated as the pork gradually melted inside her mouth. What should’ve been a good ten seconds, now became two. It was impossible for you to think of a response that fast—or at least an answer that would be believable enough. Running out of time, you deci— “Ok… so why did you major in architecture again?” she interrupted, her eyes lit up all proud and smug. Her face radiated like that of a golden retriever that just fulfilled its owner’s commands.
Your stream of consciousness wandered away. The numerous chatter, that once filled your ears, was now all muffled. The crackling fat on the grill found its way through the chatter to your ears, the aroma filled your nose. It was all so beautifully distracting.
“Hello??” her hand swatting the air in front of you, trying to get your attention. “Did you not he—” you stuffed her mouth with the last piece of pork. That should buy you some time.
You started to interrogate himself, “Why did I choose architecture again? Do they even make a lot of money?” subconsciously holding yourself away from the truth of it all.
Hyewon started chewing vigorously. The girl who always savored the last piece went out the window. The time that you bought yourself quickly ran out.
“Why didn’t she take her time with the last piece?!?!” you panicked.
“You do realize that that was the last piece right?” A pitiful last attempt to distract her from the topic at hand.
Her face quickly turned from one of eagerness and excitement to one of great disappointment. You saw her looking over the table, her eyes desperately panning left and right in search of leftovers. Sad to say, it truly was the last piece.
You saw her pouting—her face all scrunched up, hands clenched into a tight fist, her eyes downcast, and shoulders following the same trajectory—though unable to rid herself of her cute aura. You couldn’t take it seriously because of how large the contrast was, yet you knew the gravity of the situation. “Ehem…” you coughed, raising your hand in hopes of gathering the attention of an unoccupied waiter.
A good ten seconds passed by and you couldn’t help but be bothered by the daggers pointing behind your back. Wanting to correct the situation, you stood up—disregarding how you looked to everyone else—trying to get the waiters’ and waitresses’ attention.
“Could we get two more servings and some more drinks?” you said as you looked towards Hyewon, hoping to satisfy her. Arms crossed and lips pouted, she maintained her rigid and immovable stance. You knew she wouldn’t budge until you were actually able to replace what was taken away and then some. It took some time but she finally got around. Her once pouting face now held the crescent of the moon on her lips.
You reached out for the tongs once again and slowly distributed the meat onto their plates. Her face lit up every time he placed a piece onto her plate and drooped down every time you put one on yours. Noticing the small detail, you regretfully decided to just give the rest of the unclaimed pieces.
Her wide smile glistened, allowing the rest of her features to shine. She regained her radiance, the same radiance reflected onto him. And with the mood lifted by such a vibrant display, moments slipped by without notice.
Your hand interrupting the bustling atmosphere, you asked for the bill, to which a waitress arrived and gave, or so you thought. Another hand made its way to interrupt the waitress this time. The hand was delicate and graceful—slender fingers that tapered off into slender nails, wrists dainty yet strong and embraced by a simple hair tie. “I can pay. It was my idea anyway,” she protested. Fearing another fight, you decided to concede—but not entirely. The LED lights slowly crept in as the natural light slowly dispersed. “What if I offer to take her home?” you thought, “Hey—”
She interrupted, “You wanna drink some more?” presenting her hand.
She gathered her long locks of silky hair, “Wouldn’t want to be wasted so far from home do ya?” Her fingers worked gracefully—twisting and looping the hair into a tight bun, leaving some lengths untied for a slightly disheveled look.
“So… are you gonna take my hand or what?” She swiped the stray lock of hair from her face. Not missing a heartbeat, you took her hand—the very same hand you admired just a few minutes ago. To your surprise, her fingers intertwined with yours—an intimate and romantic gesture—but you had not a single clue if it held any meaning. Hyewon always had a problem with personal space and physical touch. “So this is what those boys, who confessed to her, felt.”
The cobwebs of your heart were slowly getting woven away. “Is this right? Am I allowed to feel like this?” The invisible vice grip returned, ever so slightly tightening in your solar plexus. To what should’ve been butterflies in your stomach, were the rotten cocoons all knotted up.
You shook your head in discord of your own thoughts. “Yeah… there’s no way. We literally just met again after all these years.” Hyewon pulled you by your hands outside, oblivious to your thoughts.
“Where exactly are we going?” you stopped in your tracks, forcing her to break her pace.
“Don’t worry about it,” she chuckled, “Did you always ask these many questions?” She tugged on you again, “Now, come on!” Forcing an exhale out of him, “Fine!”
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Flashback end…
“Wake up you lovebirds!!” The driver yelled inside the now empty bus. Eyelids still heavy, everything slowly came into focus—your head resting on Hyewon’s. Somehow still asleep, “What the hell…? Is she a light drinker?” you carried her to her unit.
“Don’t tell me her keys fell out…” the slight jingle when exiting the bus replayed in your mind. Not wanting to leave her out in the open, you took her a floor down to your apartment.
Light. Your hands behind her knees, her breasts pressing onto you. You find yourself conscious of her braless venture with the way you felt her tits plunge itself, in its erectness, on your back; sending waves of sensation to and from your back.
You lay her down on the couch, dripping water all over the place. “How the fuck am I supposed to dry all of this?” Scratching your head, you began to unbutton your polo.
A hand slithers its way from the back of your shoulders to your abs—the finger tracing the definition of your muscles, leisurely admiring it. “I can’t believe your ex is missing out on this,” the girl whispers into your ears.
Earning a well-deserved shove, “Get the fuck off me! I’m letting this go just because you’re drunk.”
“Or what?” her voice alluring, tempting a reaction out of you.
A pinch to your temple—trying to hold yourself back, letting out an extended exhale, “I swear— say one more word and I’m gonn—”
A flash of light glared through the window—exposing her naked body, her transparent midnight dress gripping tightly—followed by a roaring thunder.
Don’t look. Your head turned away, you don’t see her approach you. A turn back and you’re greeted by her face, not a foot further—her face tilted, awaiting a reaction out of you. Eyes downcast, you’re taller than her, stronger than her, and yet it feels as though she has you under her grasp. She grabs your chin, “What now?” The water in her clothes weighed it down, slowly showing off more and more of her chest.
You grab Hyewon’s wrist, causing her lips to quiver. A twist and a turn, like that of a ballerina, you switch places. You trap her between your body and the wall, her hand forced by your own against it. “So you can take charge~” her voice trailed off.
“Fuck this.” You let go of her hand, the gentleness absent. You’re not falling for anything at this point. It’s clear she wants to rile you up… but why?
“It’s been six months right? Six months of no action too, I presume?” you see what she’s getting at.
“Was it all planned? Was that innocent display a lie?”
“Does that matter? I know you want me,” her finger peeling back her lower lip, “I’ve seen the way your eyes stare at me.”
“You’re not getting what you want, you know that right? I don’t know why I thought this shit would work,” you wave her off.
“I always get what I want~” approaching you ever so slowly. “Isn’t that right?” her hands curling behind your neck.
You prove her right—you lean in for a kiss, her hands pull on your hair, “Where did all that bravado go? Guess you were a bad boyfriend huh?”
You lift her by her waist, her body draping over your shoulders as you throw her onto the bed, not without a single smirk curling up her mouth, “There it is… there’s the man I want.”
“You fucking whore,” your fists clenching, “You think you can just come in here and do what you want? You don’t deserve any of that lovey-dovey shit.”
“Oh~ trust me. I don’t want any of that.” Hyewon crawls with no care in the world, her eyes focused on your bulge. Fuck. She lacks manners, lacks grace—her eyes completely bewitched. To her, you are her food for the night. Her teeth skillfully peels your underwear, revealing your cock. “Ooooh, big, veiny.” How phallic.
And suddenly, her grace comes back—the sultry grace of sucking your cock. She swallows it all in one dive. There’s no beauty behind it all, or at least there shouldn’t be. There was something hypnotic about how she stared at you with your cock in her lips.
Look down and all you can see is her disheveled hair with your hands gripping to the shape of her head. A subtle force keeps her plunging deeper and deeper to no end. Her tongue swirls around your cock, rubbing all over the veins, not leaving a spot untouched. Her nose plugged, her other senses heightened itself to that of a supernatural level. She feels you through the veins of your cock lodged in her throat, every throb and every pulse. She reads you completely—you weren’t thinking with your brain after all.
Not enough. You push her head deeper, her nose plunging deeper into your pelvis. Hyewon’s sultry grace disappears, “WAI-” The silent apartment, now resonates with the sinful sounds struggling out of her throat. “HMMMF!” her hands slamming onto your thigh. “Choke on it!” you punch it in. The walls of her throat begin to collapse, tightening. A cough, or so it should have been but instead she choked more on your cock, clearly too much for her to handle, the length forcing its way down even more.
Release. She pushes back, gasping for air. She needs oxygen and you deprived her of it. “I’m not done with you,” you grab her head and force your cock deep down her throat again.
“Stop, stop, stop! I can’t fucking bre- GOUHK!” A galore of drool seeped out the corners of her mouth, dripping down onto the already wet sheets. “Fuck you,” Hyewon slurs, this time you pull on hair. The constant bobbing continues, though not of her own volition. You press her head onto your pelvis one last time, this one stronger than all the others. Your spine buckles down—the same amount of force one would put when opening the lid of a jar, arms tensing and veins appearing—you unload onto the walls of her throat. The goopy, thick liquid forcing its way down to her stomach. Unable to take it all in, she pushes you away and coughs up the rest. You go along with it, feeling your load force its way out.
Hyewon lays down on her back, gasping for air, occasionally coughing up your cum like a broken water fountain.
“H-Holy shit… I almost died there.” Hyewon exaggerates as her fingers pull on the corners of her mouth, widening the moist entrance to show the masterpiece you created within her velvety walls—clumps of white semen sticking to her uvula, semen blending in with her ivory-like teeth.
“You’re not a one-hit wonder are you? If you were then I’d understand why she left you,” another remark looking to irk something inside of you. You pull on her ankles, “Ow! You could be much kinder to a lady like me, you know?” The sarcasm in her voice telling you she doesn’t give a shit about your feelings and your past.
Rip her dress off, “Fuck you! That was expensive.”
“You think I fucking care?” You shoot out a glare so flat it cuts the air.
“Oh~ I know you don’t,” she giggles, “Now fuck me like the slut I am will you?”
You twist her body—her back now facing you. Her hands unfolding her pussy, making way for your cock. A plunge deep inside, “Oh… fuck~ You’re so fucking tight.” Her plush flesh tightens around you. Hyewon’s hands are busy trying to keep herself sane—grasping at the sheets, almost ripping them.
“Yeah~ Just like that… daddy,” she turns around. You greet her face with a slap, earning a yelp. “I’m so fucking trashy right?” You hear the smirk in her voice.
“You’re not fucking learning are you?” her hair brutally balled up into your fists. Pull tighter—her back arching. Pull tighter—your other arm now putting her into a chokehold. You thrust into her, vehemently, without a single care. You have full control now. Let go of her hair and palm her abs, feeling your cock swell through.
“FUCKKKK!” She tries her best to push your arm away, “Fuckin- Stop! Stop pressing on it! YOU"RE GONNA RIP ME IN HALF!” She claws at your chokehold, trying her very best to get out. Fuck that’s hot.
It’s the way she surrenders every part of her body as you fuck the living shit out of her—well, it’s not like she has a say in the matter. You push her into any position you want. Manipulate her like a doll, existing purely for your pleasure.
The whines, the slurring of her voice, all of it so enthralling to hear. You feel her saliva drip onto your arms. You thrust harder than the last with every incomplete sentence coming out of her filthy mouth. With every incoherent word, your cock throbs. Every single moan now a glass-breaking scream. You’re piling on noise complaints. Harder. You’re really in it now—in her—almost fucking her ten crimes deep before you can relish in your high. The knot in your stomach is slowly unravelling, the floodgates are about to open. You’re remolding her into your toy—if only she wasn’t the one playing with your emotions but who cares, you were having the time of your life. Another rip-roaring scream, the last one. Now, everything that came out of her mouth was nothing else but a low grumble, her voice box pushed to its very limits.
Hyewon’s nails dig deep into your arms, “Ahm- I’M PEEING!” Her muscles contracting, her hips buckling. Your cock following the trajectory. She’s on her toes. You feel the warm fluid trickling down your thighs. You don’t let up; in fact, you squeeze tighter.
The whites of her eyes take over as they roll back in her head. A hand free, you go further. You mask her with your hand, her grumbles struggling through it. Every moan, every groan. You feel her depleting energy, channeled by her voice, propagating through your very veins.
Fall in love with the idea of sophistication, the assumption of carnal layers peeled back, to reveal the sin of lust inside such a person, peeled back one by one.
Take away a sapien. You were stripping her down to her very core, diluting it. Primitive. With pure instinctual fucking, you were singlehandedly reverting her DNA millennium’s back.
You free Hyewon from your clutches.
What a masterpiece to behold! Her body lays on the mattress—limp, almost lifeless. A quiver then and there easing your worries. Your floodgates open, you unload on her back—ropes of semen shooting out—marking her as yours. It fits her so well, almost like a back tattoo (but made of cum). The liquids making a cocktail in the sheets.
Your heart is beating out of your chest. You aren’t satisfied… yet. Your fingertips dig into her cheeks, “Fucking weak slut. All that talk for nothing.” Hyewon’s gaze is cloudy, she isn’t even staring at you. She’s drunk-dazed, almost jaded. You slap her face with your cock, “Wake up, bitch! We aren’t done!”
It’s a bit too late for some foreplay but here you are, rubbing her cunt vigorously. Are you starting a fire? One thing’s certain, her nerves are burning and you’re warming her up—her erogenous zones. Preparing them for the experience they’re about to go through.
Finger her. Your fingers—three to be exact—make their way through the ruined walls, like an explorer finding the ruins of ancient civilization. You feel some precum sticking to her walls. You bottom out, reaching the furthest your hand could go. You curl your finger in a come-hither motion, jerking it in a disorderly, primal manner. No techniques. It’s the pure girth of your fingers stimulating her G-spot, almost clawing at her walls, her body quivers with the slightest touch.
Hyewon, still unconscious, her body declares its sign of life with every single convulsion.
You don’t limit yourself. Your other hand making its way to her ass. What is meant to be a delicate spot—throw that out the window—you go at it with intensity. Rather than curling your fingers, you put pressure on the walls of her ass, working it in a circular motion—stirring it in its chaotic mess.
The obligatory orgasm, and when it eventually does come, like a dopamine hit, is thrilling and satisfying but for no more than a few fleeting moments but that’s all you need.
Her back arching, pelvis thrusting the air, her arms reaching for the ceiling, palms spreading to its very limit. Her liquids squirts all over your hand. You send an electric charge coursing through her veins, essentially resuscitating her, “HOLY SHITTT- LET ME TAKE A BREAK! PLEASE! DADDY! PLEASE! TOO MUCH! IT’S TOO MUCH! I’M CUMM-” Hyewon’s last words before passing out again. Her body crumples on the bed—her body in shambles, almost droopy.
A deafening silence fills the room, the only thing you can hear are your weary breaths. You just finished but are you finished? You look back, the view unlike any other. She’s a tool and nothing more. And despite looking pristine just moments ago—like a flower untouched, the color white personified—her body says otherwise.
How sinful. How tempting. She’s all that and she knows it. Hyewon may think she’s a devil but you beg to differ. A fallen angel you’d say. It’s almost artistic as to how much she encapsulates it without knowing so. The innocence remains the same, unaware of her surroundings and herself. Is lust a sin? You hear the moans reverberate from the upper floor. The normality of it all hits you. It’s an innocent sin. There’s no point overthinking. Enjoy yourself… just like Hyewon just now. You needed it, the release. “You could have been a lot kinder about your words, you know?” you give her a spank, blood vessels squeezing, your hands imprinting itself.
“You knew I was awake?” she looks back, struggling to sit herself up—her arms weak from what you just put her through. You lay beside her. “Yah!” You put her in your arms, this one a tender embrace.
Hyewon tucks her head under your neck, her finger tracing circles on your pecs, “Just so you know, I’m not taking back what I said. I don’t know her but she’s a bitch.”
You let out a chuckle as your fingers run through her hair, almost massaging her scalp. “Are you trying to score some good guy points now?” she looks up, her eyes devoid of ulterior motives.
“Is it working?” your other hand makes its way under her chin, caressing it.
Her lips quiver, resisting the urge to smile. “No,” she says as she hides her face away, pressing them onto your abs.
“Let’s get up by the way, your liquids are everywhere,” you punctuate.
You get off the bed, helping her on the way up, “I didn’t rough you up too bad, did I?”
An attempt to prove you wrong, she smacks your hand away, rejecting any form of help. “I’m an independent woman,” she says all smugly.
“Oh yeah?” you give her the side-eye, your fingers point toward her legs, “Is there an earthquake right now? You’re wobbling like crazy.”
“Fuck you,” she says just to immediately use your body as support. She looks up to see your smug face, “I hate you, you know that?”
“Your body sure doesn’t say so. But I still can’t believe you did all that… for me,” you grab onto her shoulders, standing her straight.
“I did all that for you—your cock all right? Don’t get it twisted,” you twist her body, then carrying her like a princess, “Yah! Put me down!”
“Or what?” you lean in closer, almost biting her ear. It sends shivers across her body, you feel the way her body just shivered, “You’re turned on again, aren’t you?” Met with silence, the sensation of wetness on your arm serves as her answer, “Just… don’t say those things next time, okay?”
“Who says there’s gonna be a next time?” shuffling in your arms.
“I did,” you give a light kiss on her forehead, “You were just lucky I gave in to you this time.”
“And if I don’t stop talking shit about your ex?” she crosses her arms.
“Then I’ll make sure you’ll be the one to give in,” you carry her towards the bathroom.
“Well… she’s a bitch,” you give her a glare, “Now, teach me a lesson in the shower will you?”
A/N: Hello!! I finally got this out! It took longer than I wanted since I got sick, and I just couldn't write properly. I got some more time now so hit me with some asks/requests. I might do them... but what's for sure is another fic before February ends. -🔎
#kpop gg#idol x male reader#kpop smut#izone smut#kang hyewon#hyewon smut#kpop fanfic#male reader#kang hyewon smut#girl group smut#smut#light angst
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would love if you could do prompt 1! especially if tav is being a hard ass and trying to keep pushing themselves hehe :3
Companions with an Exhausted Tav
Three posts in one week?? I’m truly on a roll. (Nah I was sick this week so I was off work for two days.)
Anyway here’s Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Karlach, Minthara, and Jaheira with a very sleepy (and stubborn) reader.
Shadowheart
You usually go to bed quite a bit later than Shadowheart, but luckily she’s never awake to realize just how late you’re staying up.
Until one night you push your luck a little too far. By the time you climb into bed next to her she pops her head up and notices the sun is already starting to rise.
“Love, have you been up all night?” She asks. You decline to answer, and luckily she’s too sleepy to push the matter, for now. You both fall back asleep.
You’re livid when you wake up to the noon sun and find the adventuring party had already left for the day. Without you.
You find Shadowheart polishing her spear, as she decided to stay back today as well.
You approach her, but she doesn’t even look up at you. “Good afternoon sleepyhead.”
“What the hell were you thinking not waking me up this morning?” you say, clearly aggravated.
She props the spear up next to her. “I did” she says, finally looking up at you. “If you’re too tired to get up the first time I wake you, you’re too tired to go adventuring. Now go lay back down. You clearly need a nap.”
You soften, immediately realizing your mistake. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just…”
“Tired,” she finishes for you. “I know, love. Seriously, go back to bed. You’re so grumpy when you’re tired.”
“I’m not grumpy!” You protest. She morphs her face into an over exaggerated pout, and repeats your words in a mocking tone.
You can’t help yourself, so you laugh. “Whatever. I’ll go back to bed.”
Lae’zel
You wake up in a panic as you’re being roughly dragged across the ground by your ankles.
You flail and struggle against your captors strong hand, but you can’t get loose.
“Tskva! Stop doing that!” Lae’zel shouts. It’s only then you realize who your “captor” really is.
“Lae’zel?” You ask, confused. “What are you doing? Why are you dragging me across the- ow!” You shout as you’re dragged over a rock.
“Seems this is the only way to get you to bed,” she responds, unfazed by your outburst.
She only stops dragging you once you’re in your bed. You immediately sit up and try to escape.
She catches you and pushes you back down. “Lae’zeeel,” you groan exaggeratedly. “I was doing something important.”
“If it is important than you should be able to keep your eyes open while doing it,” she retorts.
Well fuck. She has you there. You have been having trouble focusing for the last couple hours. Maybe it is best if you just go to sleep.
You’re surprised when Lae’zel crawls into your bed beside you. She doesn’t usually stay the night. “What are you doing?” You ask.
“Sleeping. Just like you should be,” she answers. You sigh, thinking of all the crafty ways you could sneak past her once she goes to sleep.
She interrupts your thoughts with a “and if you think you’re sneaking out, you’ve got another thing coming.”
Karlach
You’re passed out over a desk when Karlach gets up for a little midnight snack.
“Oh love,” she sighs. It must be four in the morning. How long have you been up?
You wake up slightly and mumble something indecipherable. You can hardly lift your head up off the desk.
“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” she whispers, throwing your arms over her shoulders and picking you up.
You unconsciously nuzzle her neck and let out a soft “mmm” at the familiar scent of your lover.
She lays you down on her own bed, trying to keep you upright for long enough to get you out of your armor.
She tries to be quiet, not only to disturb you as little as possible, but also to not wake up the entire camp.
When you’re finally out of your armor, she realizes she can’t find your camp clothes. Eventually, she settles on giving you one of her shirts that’s way too big for you.
You smile and mumble something that may or may not have been a “thank you.”
She finally lays your head against the pillow and you snuggle into the soft sheets and warm shirt.
She crawls cautiously into bed next to you, trying not to wake you up.
She can’t quite tell if you’re awake or not when you climb up on her chest and mumble “mmm warm.”
Minthara
The thing about Minthara is she’s not going to argue with you about taking care of yourself.
You can eat when you’re hungry, sleep when you’re tired, and piss and when you need to piss because you’re an adult and you can take care yourself.
So when she catches you burning the midnight oil for the third night in a row she’s angry. Like more angry than you’d expected.
“Hold on, Minthara,” you say, knowing she about to make you go to bed. “I just need to finish th-“
“No.” You’re interrupted abruptly. “You’re going to bed and I’m not going to catch you out here like this again.”
“Minthara, there’s things that have to done-“
“They can wait till morning,” she interrupts again, trying to stay calm even as you’re testing her patience.
“Just let me-“
“You have to take care of yourself, Tav!” She shouts, finally loosing her temper. “This isn’t an endurance test, this is your life: the one you have chosen to share with me. And I will not have you squander it out here, night after night, robbing yourself of sleep.”
You sigh, taking her hand and pulling yourself to your feet. You don’t even realize how tired you are until you’re swaying trying to keep upright.
She picks you up unexpectedly. You would have never taken Minthara for the type to carry you to bed. She’s never carried you to bed before.
Still, you accept the rare affection and wrap your legs around her waist while your arms and head rest on her shoulder.
She gently lays you down on your bed and pushes your hair off your forehead before giving it a kiss.
She really does love you, and she’s doing her best here. You just gotta take care of yourself, okay?
Jaheira
“Am I going to have to set a bedtime for you like I do the children?” She half teases, surprising you as she approaches your half asleep body.
You groan as if she just woke you from deep sleep. “I’m awake, sorry what time is it.”
Jaheira smirks and bends down so she’s close to your face. “Well past your bedtime,” she teases before giving you a short kiss.
“But I haven’t finished-“
“You’re done,” she interrupts matter of factly. Clearly this isn’t up for debate.
You groan again and mumble “fine,” reaching your arms up for her to carry you to bed.
She laughs, grabbing you by the waist and throwing you over her shoulder. If you’re going to insist on her carrying you, you’re going to deal with her doing it like this.
She’s gentle when she lays you against the bed, crawling in next to you and wrapping her arms around you.
“Wait, so if it’s so late why are you up?” You ask.
She chuckles. “Don’t worry about it,” she answers before kissing you behind the ear and falling asleep.
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#bg3 tav#bg3 minthara#minthara#minthara x tav#bg3 karlach#minthara x reader#bg3 shadowheart#karlach#bg3 lae'zel#shadowheart x reader#shadowheart x tav#shadowheart#lae’zel x tav#laezel x reader#laezel#lae'zel#karlach x reader#karlach x tav#jaheira x reader#jaheira x tav#bg3 jaheira#jaheira#bg3 x reader#bg3 x you#bg3 x tav
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MAD. w/ CHANGBIN.


18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
pairing: changbin x female reader genre + warnings: established relationship, fluffy, a little steamy at the end but not too much wc: 1.2k
mad master list here ; other works here ; any comments and thoughts you can drop them here ; ty for reading.

“Princess!” Changbin brightly greets you as he hops out of his car to help you drag your drunk best friend who is also Han’s girlfriend inside his back seat.
“Hi Binnie. Hi Han,” you shoot them a small smile. “Sorry she drank so much. We couldn’t stop her,” you say timidly standing back now that the two boys got her.
“That’s okay Y/N, thanks for looking out for her,” Han smiles at you before he getting in the car with his girlfriend.
“Did you enjoy your night?” Changbin asked with a smile, pulling you by both your arms into a tight hug.
You hum in respond, hugging him back tightly, feeling guilty.
Changbin had told you at the start of the week that he was finishing up a song and needed some time to perfect it, so you decided it’ll be best to give him some space to do so.
Although you know how much he would miss you, you also know how bad he was at multitasking. A simple “how are you” text will instantly turn to him calling you up and asking you to come over. You have learnt from the past that that’s not the way to go. You rememeber him rushing the last 2 days to fix up his song and boy, was he a mess.
For the week you had sent him only good morning and night messages, with some little I love you thrown in during his winding down time. The lack of interaction with him made you confide in your friends for a little bit of comfort. So when Han’s girlfriend messaged you to go drinking and clubbing with other girlfriends you were quick to say yes.
The night started off great. You and all the girls probably had about 4 shots and a couple of drinks each making everyone tipsy. But you were nearly at the end of your limit though, you could barely steady yourself on the dance floor.
It was midnight when you feel your phone buzzing inside your bag. You pull out your phone and could barely read the caller ID with your blurred vision. When you finally saw it was your boyfriend calling your face instantly lights up.
“You coming over yet Princess?” Changbin cheerfully asks on the other line. The club music was way too loud that you had to excuse yourself from the circle to run to the secluded bathroom to talk.
“Sorry Binnie, what did you say?” You asked and you hear him softly chuckle back.
“I said are you coming over yet?” He repeats himself.
“For?” You slurred on your words, confused at what he was asking.
“It’s our date night, silly,” Changbin giggly replies and instantly you froze.
You had forgotten it was the last Friday of the month and which means it was your designated date night with Changbin. It doesn’t matter what time he gets off work on the last Friday, you would spend your afternoon at his house anyways so you were able to get ready for what ever he had planned. You gasp, putting him on speaker as you search through your phone to visually confirm the date. It was already 12:03 Saturday. You had forgotten. You couldn’t blame anyone but yourself for this mistake.
“Did you forget?” He asks when hears you struggle on the other side.
“YES!!” You say, a hand coming to hit your temple. “I FORGOT I’M SO SORRY,” you cried, squatting on the bathroom floor, trying you best to calm yourself down.
He must’ve been so confused patiently waiting at home for you to come over the whole day.
“I’ll come home now, I’m sorry.”
“No! That’s okay princess, are you out with the girls?” He asked, his voice was still so soft.
“Yeah.. I.. I—” you scrambled to apologise but he doesn’t let you.
“Dont worry Princess. Go and enjoy your night with the girls. Call me when you want to come home and I’ll get you,” he giggles.
That’s one thing you can never understands about Changbin, he never gets mad or show a little bit of annoyance with you, even when you’re in the wrong. He never lets you take the blame for anything.
“I feel bad.”
“Don’t, you silly girl. We’ll talk later.”
“Okay,” you puffed with a pout and he giggles.
“Love you!” He shouted before hanging up.
How could you forget such an important day. You glance at your phone and realised he had send you a couple of messages throughout the night asking when you’ll be over and you hadn’t reply.
“Oh shit!” You quietly beat yourself up again.
The rest of the night you didn’t take anymore drinks and sobered up quickly. Although you still enjoyed the rest of the night with your girlfriends, your boyfriend was on your mind alot of the times.
“Come on, let’s go before she throws up,” Changbin says pulling you both into the car.
The ride home was just Han’s girlfriend drunk whining that she wanted to throw up so you really couldn’t bring yourself to talk to Changbin as your attention was on your friend’s well being.
“You reckon you’ll be okay Ji? Me and Y/N want to go on a drive,” Changbin says looking in his rear view mirror at younger boy. You glance to your side where your boyfriend was sitting, confused, because you never stated you wanted to go for a drive.
“I’ll be okay hyung, she’s just all talk. She’s probably gonna sleep like a baby once she’s get home,” Han giggles, assuring you both.
After dropping them off, Changbin drove around for a bit, sitting with you in silence. He keeps glancing to your side but looks away the second you look up at him. Once he reached the secluded lookout you guys always go to, he parks the car and reaches for your hand.
“Why are you not mad, Bin?” You nervously ask, breaking the silence.
“Why would I be?” He replies back with a smile caressing your hand.
“Tonight was suppose to be our date night and I ditched it to go clubbing,” you say unable to look at him.
“Well, we are on a date right now aren’t we?” He replies, the smirk is still on his face.
“At 2am.”
“So?”
“Im sorry—”
“Don’t. Don’t feel bad, don’t apologise,”
“But you never get mad at me,” you voiced out your concern with him being so lenient.
“You forgot. You’ve been so cute all week giving me space to finish my song. We didn’t talk all week so you just forgot. It’s not like you planned to ditch me,” his hand comes to cup your cheeks as he looks deep into your eyes, waiting for your reply.
“Right?” He says sounding a bit more serious as you don’t answer him. You giggle in response shaking your head.
He’s right though. You just forgot due to the lack of conversation you guys had all week.
“You okay now?” He leans in to peck the corner of your lips.
“Yes,” you reply, smiling at his kiss.
“Also, you look very sexy though Princess,” he smirked eyeing you up and down. “I couldn’t stop staring at you when I was driving,” he says glancing at the hem of your dress that was riding up your thighs.
“Is the dress new?” You can tell he was still trying to get you to forget about what happened.
“I got it last week,” you reply to him, neatly smoothing over the material by your thighs.
“It’s very sexy. Can I see it up close?” He raises his eyebrow and you giggle knowing what he was referring to. So you climb over the car to straddle him, your dress instantly riding up.
You loved date night.

#becomingmina#skz#stray kids#skz smut#stray kids smut#Changbin#changbin smut#Changbin suggestive#seo Changbin#Changbin fluff#skz request#skz reaction#stray kids imagines#Binnie
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hiii congratulations!! could i please request a 🍈 with paul for just any of the comforting hug prompts? for after a bad race 🫶
🍈 – send me a driver and a prompt from this list of hugging prompts, these touch starved prompts, or these kiss prompts, and i will write a short blurb for you!!

author's note: thank you !!! :) hope you enjoy this post-hungary (tbh could be read as post-any bad race) angst/comfort thing. i chose prompts 22, 34, 28 & 39 <33
(also im tired asffff so this has not been properly proofread, sorry if there are any mistakes)
3k celly !!


it all started so well.
a good practice session and pole position. it was supposed to be a redemption weekend. but oh, how quickly things can turn around when you least expect them.
you've been fighting to keep your eyelids open for the past hour, the letters and words in the book your hands are holding long forgotten. dozing off seems like such a good idea, and you can hardly refrain from letting your eyes rest for just a moment...
but the little rattle of keys followed by the sound of the front door unlocking gives you a sudden spurt of energy again.
he's home.
there's a shuffle by the front door before it closes with a little click. your breath hitches in anticipation as you fold the corner of a page in your book, leaving it to rest on the bedside table while you listen for more sounds. his keys jingling as they're set atop the table by the door, heavy footsteps muffled by thick socks, a suitcase rolling down the hallway – every sound bringing him closer to you.
"why are you still up?"
paul lets his backpack fall to the floor with a thud, his expression hard to read as he looks over at you. in the low light of the bedside lamp, he looks exhausted, the bags under his eyes deeper and darker than usual. it's already late, way past midnight, but you really wanted to stay up and welcome him home, especially after the weekend he's just had.
this current season, paul has had a habit of always traveling home again the same night of his feature race; no matter how good or bad it went. he says it's because he misses you and wants to spend as much time as possible with you – but you also suspect that it's his way of escaping the pressures and expectations, especially after a harder weekend.
"i wanted to see you," you tell him with a guilty smile, blinking up towards him.
he pulls his hoodie over his head, throwing it in the direction of a chair in the corner of the room, leaving him in just his gray sweatpants and white t-shirt. when he steps closer, you move the covers out of the way and he slips onto the bed. then, it doesn't take more than a second before he's crawled into your embrace, chin heavy on your shoulder.
as your arms drape around him, he collapses completely into your touch and you can practically feel the weight of the weekend's disappointments and frustrations seep from his body. somehow, paul seems smaller than ever before, more vulnerable, as if the armor he wears so confidently around the track has been stripped away. you trace your fingers up and down his spine, hoping to absorb at least some of his burdens, and thankfully feeling the tension ease ever so slightly under your touch. you know that this moment is crucial for him; you know how much times like these help him rebuild his strength and slip away from the stress of the weekend.
you have so much to say. so many words of comfort, even more reassuring confirmations and gentle affirmations. you begin to pull away, but paul's grip on you remains firm, as if letting go of you would mean facing the reality he's trying to escape. "not yet," he mumbles into your skin. "can you... hold me for a little longer?"
you nod instantly, pressing a kiss to his temple before resting the side of your head against his again. "i won't let you go. ever."
right now, the only thing he wants is to be held, and you don't mind.
you know that sometimes, words aren't necessary.
sometimes, just being there, just holding on, is enough to make the world feel a little less heavy.
and being able to lift even just a little of that weight would be worth way more than a thousand words.
#jack's 3k celly!#3k celly - 🍈!#paul aron#f2#formula two#formula 2#fluff#paul aron fluff#paul aron x reader#paul aron x you#paul aron x y/n#paul aron x yn#paul aron imagine#f2 fluff#f2 x reader#f2 x you#f2 x yn#f2 x y/n#f2 imagine#paul aron angst
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Sleepless in the Compound.
Wanda Maximoff x Avenger Stark fem!reader.
A/N: I hope you enjoy and I apologize for any mistakes! Also comments, reblogs, shares and likes are super appreciated, thank you! :)
Word count: 944.
Masterlist.
Wanda had just made it to the compound after a week long mission, exhaustion clearly present on her entire being as she walks from the hangar to the bedroom she shared with you.
It being well past midnight she expected nothing less than for you to be sleeping. Heart soaring at the prospect of being to able to be in your arms once again after being apart for so long.
But as the redhead makes it to the hall of your sleeping quarters, she hears thuds coming from inside the room and her eyes turn red, wisps of magic coming out of her fingers in cation.
As she nears the door slowly, she continues hearing the ruckus coming from inside and she sends the door flying open only to see you dancing around the room, occasionally attempting to do a cartwheel, music blaring from the large headphones you’re wearing, the sight causing amusement to Wanda.
Slowly as to not startle you, your girlfriend approaches. “Hello?” Wanda begins as you continue moving about, too quickly for you to even notice another person in the room. “Baby? Y/N?” The redhead says, as you stand with your back facing towards her, letting Wanda put her hands on your shoulders to get your attention.
“Jesus Christ!” You exclaim, pulling the headphones into your hands as your turn around, jumping up in fear, the scare causing you to light the object on fire.
“Oh my god, babe! Put it out!” Wanda exclaims as well, startled by your powers.
“Sorry, sorry, it’s just- you scared me,” you say, slightly panting as ice shoots out of your hands to extinguish the fire.
“I called you, but you were doing, well honestly, god knows what,” Wanda chuckles, “what are you doing up anyway? I expected you to be asleep by now.”
“Usually I would be asleep but, you know how my brother always likes to complains about being the only Avenger that doesn’t sleep well and how even when something comes up no matter how sleep deprived he is he always manages to have the complete focus that I lack and all that bullshit, you know how it goes. Well… while you were gone he was getting on my nerves, so to shut him up, we sort of made a bet,” you say grinning widely, bouncing on your toes as your arms encircle Wanda’s waist.
“Oh no, what did you do?” The redhead asks, an amused smirk on her face as she places her hands on your shoulders to stop your movements.
“Sorry,” you mutter sheepishly, “I’m like really energized, but also really tired because well I haven’t slept. But anyway, I made a bet with Tony!” You grin, Wanda tilting her head so you can provide more information, “I bet him that I could last awake longer than his record of 36 hours in exchange for an all paid, week long trip to Hawaii for our anniversary next month!” You say, bouncing in your spot once again in excitement. “We’ve been dating for almost 3 years and we hardly ever have time to do something this big. I love the beach, you love the beach and if I win we get one week of no interruptions, paid by Tony, so I'm trying to win here baby,” you smile, “also I was like, you’re so on, you know, cause I can never back out of a bet, but isn’t it great?” You ramble and Wanda chuckles.
“That's great babe, but how much longer do you have to be up? Because this mission was exhausting and I was really looking forward to relaxing with you. I want nothing more than to get into that bed with you and sleep my love,” the redhead pouts.
“Uh, sorry, but I can't do that just yet Max, I have to stay awake.” You say, pressing a quick kiss to her pouty lips, “but don't worry once Friday hits, I win and I'm all yours. We can relax and sleep all you want! Then we get ready to go on a vacation next month, for a week, for free,” You beam and Wanda’s eyes widen.
“Y/N/N,” she begins slowly, “when’s the last time you slept?”
“On Wednesday it’ll be 48 hours since I’ve been awake,” you reply, moving away from Wanda as you now attempt to do a backflip.
“Y/N, what the fuck!” The redhead exclaims in shock, “you need to get some sleep now! It’s Friday, detka! Oh my god! You won, now get some rest!” Your girlfriend says, eyes full of worry.
Wanda’s outburst and the revelation of the day has your body thudding on the floor and you look up at your girlfriend with wide eyes, “wait, are you serious?” You ask, smile wiped off your face, “I’ve been awake for 4 days?” You say slowly as Wanda cautiously nods. “Oh my god,” you whisper and your girlfriend kneels down beside you.
“Hey baby, are you okay?” The redhead asks, green eyes inspecting your features as you lay on the floor.
“Am I okay?” You begin slowly, “am I okay?” You repeat a little louder, suddenly jumping up with a smile on your face. “Of course I’m okay, I beat Tony! Holy shit, we’re going to Hawaii baby!” You exclaim pulling a surprised Wanda off the ground to pull her into a happy kiss, “I have to go tell him and rub it in his dumb stupid face!” You say, pulling away from a still shocked Wanda to run out of the room your voice booming through the compound as you yell, “oh Tony, you big loser, where are you?”
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda maximoff fluff#marvel#stark reader#tony stark#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda maximoff fic#wanda maximoff x fem reader#wanda maximoff blurb#Wanda x reader#wanda x you#wanda marvel#Sleepless in the Compound
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⤳ 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃
pairing. modern!aegon targaryen x fem!reader
summary. an unlikely friendship born out of coincidences and choices neither of you would have ever made had it been any other time. but here you are and here he is. friends. even when you two should have been anything but. even when you two should have been nothing at all.
word count. 4.8k (this is long, sorry)
warnings. modern au. toxic friendship. addiction. drug use. alcohol use. cursing/swearing. bad language overall. unreliable narrator. aegon is bad but you are no better. extremely complicated friendship, the question "so what are we?" hangs over your head like a haunting ghost. reader has MAJOR mommy issues, yes i am self projecting. Aegon has his fair share of issues with his family but really, nothing new. implied relapsing and implied threats of suicide (not by aegon or reader). Unrequited love (debatable). Possible grammar mistakes. oh and very reader centric.
notes. i'm gonna be honest guys, this is my first fanfic (probably also the last) and i'm genuine not sure about anything in this lmao (im having a panic attack) but anywayss this one is for you @fishyfables hope u like it <333
It's past midnight and you're parked somewhere, somewhere you don't even know. There is a man beside you, looking somewhere and seeing something that you don't see. There isn't a smile on his face, because you are alone, because he doesn't have to pretend.
He reaches for your seat belt, unbuckles it with experienced hands; his pretty, quick, and skilled fingers brush against your body. And he has lovely eyes, like a pair of amethyst carved into his skull and he looks at you in the way he shouldn't look at you.
Yet he always looks at you like this. Dazy, glossy, and desperate. You reach over and nod at him.
There is a man in your car, because it is past midnight and you are his friend, possibly his only real friend, the only one he can trust. Or so you like to think. Maybe it's because you are the only one who is sober enough to pick him up while his other friends are getting worse than him.
There is a man in your car, and then there is a man on top of you — leaning over your body, he caresses your cheeks and whispers how you should leave him (you can't leave him, he holds you too tight), how you can find better friends (he never allows you to get close to any other people enough to make friends) and how pretty you are, too pretty for him, too good (you are not. He doesn't know that you are not, because he doesn't want to know you. He likes the way you are in his imagination — untouchable, perfect, and flawless).
There is a man in your car, and you think he might just kiss you this time. He doesn't. He never does. Instead, he breaks down into tears, his hands slips from your cheeks to your shoulders and he buries himself to your chest, fucking up your shirt with tears and snot and whatever else he had his lips on that night. He apologizes, he always does, but you know better than those are not meant for you.
There is a man in your car, you drive him to his house, get him out of his dirty clothes and help him into a bath. You tuck him into his bed, and he begs you to stay with him.
You don't.
(Note that: he never means it.)
You met Aegon during the end of your first year at college.
It was a party that was thrown by your friend's friend's friend, or whatever. You hadn't had many plans for the night. Dress up and feel pretty, dance with your friends if you feel like it, have a drink or two (as always, you were the designated driver), and maybe hook up with someone. You deserved it, managing to pass most of your classes, damn right you deserved it.
And most of the night went according to your plans. Except: him.
He was never a part of the plan. No sane person would ever include him in their plans.
He was standing over there, talking with a few boys, laughing the loudest. He looked…messy. You would learn that it was not an occasional thing but rather a consistency. He always looked out-of-place, wrongly put together.
And Aegon, with his messy silver hair and purple eyes adorned with dark circles under them, you knew him, or at least heard about him enough — who hadn't?
The son of the infamous Viserys Targaryen — a big guy with bigger digits and even a bigger name. Coming from old money, managing to adapt to the modern world and its technology and doubling or even tripling their wealth by getting into the business world. Companies, markets, whatever one could think of. Their name was branded on the boards, to places, hotels and channels. TargCo.
Oh yeah, you knew about him.
He was the biggest stain splat on the brand, golden name "Targaryen". Even if the family had their notorious members in the past, Aegon outdid them in his short span of twenty years of life. Scandals after scandals, his face on the news and papers.
His name was almost like a legend; one that a mother would tell her child as a bedtime story, a scary story, to make sure they would stay away from this or that of they would end up like him.
He wasn't around the campus much, maybe a few times you recalled your friends talking about him, about seeing him. He didn't need to attend to pass the classes. He just needed to make sure to call the right person, or make the right person to someone. Whatever he was doing, it worked.
That piece of shit.
You had to admit that at least once a week (especially during the finals week), you cursed his name so much that if god was real, Aegon would have been miserable by now, if not dead.
But he seemed happy. That night, he seemed happy. And he was laughing, loudly, unashamedly that you didn't doubt it. (You would learn that Aegon had never been genuinely happy, not once in his life, but he always seemed like it.)
And most of all, he looked human. That's what irritated you that night.
He looked so approachable, so like any other guy, so attainable, so easy to reach.
So you did. You walked up to him — a faint smile, little laughs, touches on the shoulder, having a few shots together, whispers in the ear, legs brushing each other and that was it. The next thing you knew, he had his hand on your waist, leading you to one of the unoccupied rooms, stumbling with his steps, complimenting you or your dress or your make up — you didn't remember much, honestly. You didn't really care enough to listen, knowing that most of them were memorized and overused words that each girl who gave him just the right amount of attention heard.
It was never supposed to be a friendship. It really wasn't. You just had to have what you heard so much about from girls who got into his bed and then fuck off and regret it in the morning and forget about it completely in a month.
And you were close to getting what you wanted — everything seemed as it was supposed to be. A drunk boy and a drunk girl (no longer the designated driver), in a room during a frat party, both wanting the same thing.
His hands under your dress, his mouth on yours. You wanted to bite his lip, dig your teeth into the pink flesh and draw blood. You never knew why. You just didn't like him enough to hurt him but also mark him but mostly hurt him and maybe more so to make him remember you in the morning when he looks at the mirror.
You held back. (You usually do.)
His touch was greedy, that you remember impeccably. He was taking more than he was giving.
And then his phone rang. Once, twice, three times and until he couldn't ignore anymore. Until he had to groan and pull away from the kiss, muttering an excuse under his breath ("give me a second") and turning his back to you.
You remember the frustration you felt, wondering if there was something wrong with him or maybe something wrong with you because you did wait, you sat on the bed, looking at the chaotic room and waiting for him to finish his phone call in the hallway and return to you. You were drunk and determined and horny, and so you would finish what you started.
You didn't.
He returned, but his hands were shaking, his steps more miscalculated as his chest was heaving with loud gasps. His eyes were red,l and unfocused. And now looking back at it, you are sure that for a moment he must have completely forgotten about you and your presence in the room.
And if you hadn't gone to his assistance when he suddenly began puking out everything he drank, perhaps he wouldn't even remember you. That would be a better outcome; he would just vomit and get up and maybe go into the shower and you would sneak out like you had never been there, like you were merely a ghost.
But you helped him. You held him, wiped his mouth when he was done, carried him to the bathroom to clean his face and offered to give him a ride home.
Unfortunately, he agreed.
Though, you didn't drive. You were in no right mind to hold a wheel. You called a cab and for some reason, you went with him. You two sat at the backseat, his head laid on your lap, your fingers gently playing with his hair and he was telling you about the things you should have never heard.
About his mum — the unexpected caller. About his dad, which came out of nowhere. About his childhood, and even about his brother for some reason. And he had a half-sister. His family was huge, which was known by everyone who knew him or knew the name Targaryen.
But Aegon had no family. He never did. That was the secret.
And he told you more, more than you wanted to hear, less than he actually wanted to tell someone.
And you held him. You didn't let go, through the whole ride to his place because of course he had his own place during college years. And you didn't let go when you helped him through the steps, and then into his shower, then to his bed. And he pulled you in. He had your hands and you didn't let go.
Or, he didn't let go. It was hard to tell.
There are stories in you that you wish to take it to the grave; or even better, forget it all. Most of them are not even yours.
Like the one time when your mother confessed that she had never wanted this, neither wanted you. How she was once your age, how she wanted to be more, to have more, to live more — and how she almost made it out. But then she had you. And she cried. She was drunk, you weren't. She held you; hands like clamps, dug around your flesh, almost bruising but bruising like lovemaking. You tucked her tight but never left the room.
Like the time when you heard your friend talking to her girlfriend on the phone, begging, pleading to take her back. ("I didn't mean to, honey. I promise — I promise! I was good! I was doing good! Please come back, I'll do better. I'll get clean again — swear, I swear, I will, please! No you can't! Fuck you! Fuck you for leaving me! You are no fucking different than the rest! Fuck you! You know what, I'm gonna fucking do it! You'll regret it, you'll miss me but I won't be there, you ungrateful—") Then a big crashing sound, you recognized it immediately; something thrown at the wall. Her phone, mostly. And then herself. You changed your mind from knocking, you forgot what you were there for in the first place.
And there are times when… When Aegon.
Just Aegon. On the passenger seat, or on a couch, sometimes in his bed, sometimes in your bed. He is mostly drunk or sometimes high, occasionally both.
He holds you, and you hold him. His lips on your skin, and your hands under his shirt. He whispers.
You deserve better.
I love you.
You are my best friend.
You are my only friend.
You deserve better.
You never reply. There is no better. Because it is never about him, the problem is never him. You will never find yourself where you should be because you don't know where that is.
But he is familiar.
He stinks of alcohol, he cries a lot, he admits things he could never say to someone else while holding onto you, and he never remembers anything the next day. (You do. Oh you do.) He touches you and kisses you and it doesn't mean anything. There is no love in his affection; it's not about you, it's about him. He needs this. He needs someone; someone to listen to him, someone to carry him home, someone to understand him, someone to not judge him, someone to be there.
You can't be you but you can be someone. That is familiar too.
And he doesn't love you.
Not even when he pulls you to himself as if he wants to bury himself in you and hide there forever, not even when he begs you to fix him, not even when he takes you with him to wherever he goes because you have to be there to pick up the pieces, not even when he tells you how much he loves you, and how glad he is to have you in his life. And that is the most familiar; that is what you know the best.
He doesn't love you.
And your mother didn't love you.
And sometimes there is a fear that maybe you don't either.
(Note that: he is not what you are searching for.)
(Note that: he is everything you will ever search for.)
"Y'know, there is still time for us to make a U-turn…"
He laughs, shaking his head as he changes the song. First mistake was to let him pick the music.
No, the first mistake was to ever agreeing to this.
"Stop complaining. They are not exactly the best parents out there, but they are…hospitable people," Aegon grins.
You sigh, fingers tapping on the wheel as you try to keep your focus on the road. You are his unofficial driver, yes, ever since he managed to crush the last car he had while drunk driving and his father refused to buy him a new one to teach him a lesson.
Maybe that's why he keeps you around, who knows.
"I don't know, Aeg," you begin, your eyes darting between the road and him. He is leaning his shoulder against the window, whistling a melody that doesn't rhyme with the song. "After spending two years listening to you bitch about your family, I'm not sure if I can pretend to like them to their faces."
"'Course you can!" He amuses, flashing that full tooth grin at you as always. "You are the best liar I know."
"Oh fuck off," you roll your eyes. You don't exactly understand what he tries to say, or where he is coming from, but you are sure it is probably about any time you lied to your professors or your other friends.
You smirk faintly, turning to him for a moment. "You look good today, by the way."
Now, he is the one rolling his eyes. He slaps your shoulder, huffing like a child.
It always satisfies you to wipe that stupid grin off of his face. It is a victory.
One that maybe a friend shouldn't enjoy.
"Yeah, yeah. Keep that up, pretty, and I'm sure you'll get along with my family no time," he mutters, scoffing before changing the song again. He really can't commit to anything, always getting bored too quickly and always gives up half the way.
The rest of the ride goes quickly. Aegon sings along with the annoying songs he always picks, only the ones he knows you hate but you're too deep in your head to be as irritated as usual.
You don't know why he invited you to meet his family. Really. You don't even know why he accepted to see them and didn't make an excuse to skip a get-together like he usually does.
Maybe his father has gotten worse. But from what you know, Viserys has never, ever, been good. And Aegon pretends good enough for you to sometimes think that he wouldn't show up to his father's funeral when the day comes.
Maybe it's about his mother, and whatever complicated relationship they have going on. Because he never has the guts to loudly reject her, for some reason, despite always complaining about Alicent to you.
Or maybe he missed his family…
…
Yeah no, not that. For sure.
Whatever it was, he asked you to drive him. And when you said that he could just take a flight or a bus, he rolled his eyes.
"It would be a waste of money to buy two seats when you already have a car."
First of all, he was rich, so fuck him for complaining about money. And second of all, he didn't even ask you if you wanted to come. You had to. He decided this was the time you would finally meet the Targaryens.
And well, you don't have anything better to do that week, so…
You are driving and he is in the passenger seat, which is basically now his seat. The drive had been hours long and it really isn't that enjoyable to spend hours stuck in a limited space with your best friend where you can't take a moment to get out and clear your head to recharge because while you love him, absolutely and completely, he is too much sometimes.
When you finally see the trees that adorn the huge garden of the estate — of course they own a family estate and possibly more than one — you let out a relieved breath.
"Here it is! Chateaux de Targaryen!" Aegon exclaims beside you and you can't help but laugh. Just a little. "C'mon! You're going to hate it here! Let's go."
You've always imagined Alicent Targaryen as a cold woman — no flinch, no smile, hardened eyes and rough hands. You don't know why. (You do. It's Aegon. It's always Aegon.)
But she is…nothing like that. She is gentle, in a way that throws you off. Gentleness seems so misplaced, so unfit on her. She is a woman made to rage, but she looks so faint, like a lingering ghost that is never ready to finally let go.
It's hard to imagine her as cruel as her son depicts. But then again, you are not her son. She is not your mother. There must be a difference.
She is a hospitable though, as Aegon promised. She makes good small talk but not too friendly. She makes sure to act curious about your life and she reacts to everything you tell her.
Viserys is not that bad either. He is… he is barely there. You haven't gotten a chance to talk to him, only saw him from afar while his wife helped him to walk in the gardens. He looks dead, with a smile and sad eyes.
Unlike Alicent, he seems eager to let go.
It's Aegon's brother that lights the bub above your head. You understand the hesitation why Aegon never wants to come home.
Aemond is perfect. There is no other word to describe him. He is handsome, respectful, well-mannered, confident, talks just enough, listens just enough, laughs just enough. Even his flaws, like the eye patch and the mocking smirk or the belittling look he throws at Aegon from time to time seems to add to his charm.
The difference is, Aemond is loved. By the house workers, by Helaena's kids, by the guests and distant family members and most importantly, by Alicent. She is proud of him and it is too easy to tell.
And you can see the green envy filling your best friend's eyes whenever Alicent pats Aemond's shoulder, praises him on his studies or whatever he has done because he does everything perfectly, gentle forehead kisses Alicent gives him whenever she stands up from the table… None of that you have seen received by Aegon.
And that is when you understand— truly understand Aegon.
And your hand finds his under the table, giving him a squeeze and he returns it. Your eyes meet and you nod at him.
I'm here.
I'm here.
That's why you are there. That's why he had taken you with him. That's why he takes you everywhere.
You don't talk much, you don't smile a lot but you have hands and that's enough for Aegon. That's all he needs. Limbs to wrap around him, skin to warm his flesh, a warm breath to feel against his to remind him that you are there — and he's there too.
He exists, he is there, he is seen, he exists.
(Note that: sometimes you are just hands.)
He sneaks into your room (the guest room) when everyone has gone to bed. You are awake, you are waiting for him.
You greet him with an eye roll and he ignores it. He takes you out of the room, both of you walking on tiptoes as he takes you somewhere only he knows — and now you too. He makes sure to stop by the kitchen to 'borrow' a bottle of wine, of course.
The house estate is surrounded by woods that look like shadows tangled after midnight. You complain about the chilly weather and he doesn't give you his jacket ("And why didn't you bring yours?") but he wraps his arm around you, pulling you to his side as you walk.
There is a big rock deep in the woods, enough for four people to sit on and there is a small opening encircling it.
"I used to sneak out to here. I found it when I was like — nine, ten, or something, maybe even twelve," he says as he holds your hand and pulls you to his side to sit down.
You hum. "How did you find it?"
He pauses, one second, two, three and then shrugs. "I ran away. Tried to."
Nine or ten, maybe twelve and he had already tried to run away. It's no big surprise that he turned out this way.
You don't say anything, you know he doesn't need you to even though he might have preferred if you did.
And so, he continues.
"I don't know what I was thinking. I just, I think I had a fight with mum and ended up slamming the door which made her furious. I remember screaming my first swear word to her and I immediately regretted it. Then I just…left. I don't know. Maybe I thought that if they couldn't find me for a day or two, they would be so worried that they would forget they were even mad in the first place. It seemed smart."
"It wasn't."
"I was seven. I didn't need to be smart."
You don't comment on the slip up.
Aegon sighs and reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers. His grip is a little too tight, so you hold him tighter.
"I spent a night and a half, waiting for them to find me. I was sitting on this rock, waiting and waiting. They didn't. And I was hungry, and thirsty so I went back." Another pause, a squeeze. "They were even more furious than I had left them. That was the first time my mother had ever raised her hand to me. It wasn't the last."
You lean your head against him, giving him a nod to make sure he knows that you're listening. Your full attention is on him.
"They asked me where I had been, I didn't tell them. Just that I got lost. It was supposed to be a one time thing. But I kept coming back here whenever I felt like I wanted to escape. Each time, I returned."
There is a moment of silence, and neither of you don't know how to fill it. There's no stars in the sky, and there's no one in the woods but somehow, being here makes you lighter. Like this was a place cut out from the rest of the world, a planet on its own, where humanity was no longer any of your business, where you didn't have to worry about tomorrow.
"What are you escaping from tonight?" You finally ask.
He turns to you, and there's a curl of his lips. It's not a grin, not a smirk. Just a smile.
"Nothing," he says, and you think he might just be honest this time. "I just wanted to show you."
You have a doubt that it was that, just that.
Yes, maybe he wanted to just show you. Maybe he wanted someone to finally know where to find him the next time he escapes.
Maybe, for once, Aegon wanted to be found.
Or maybe, it was all he ever wanted.
Aegon doesn't know love very well, but he knows you.
More than you think he does, he's sure. And you know him, just less than you think you do.
He knows that you didn't have to take care of him that night, the night you met at the party. But you did. And he knew when he woke up in the morning finding you beside him, both of you fully clothed and one arm around his body, he just knew.
This might be just what he has been searching for.
And everyone thinks Aegon is a lazy bastard but he isn't, not when he wants something.
If he wants something, there's no god or fate that would stop him from getting it.
He had sought you out on the campus the next day, and the rest of them. He has never been the one to show up, but he wanted to see you and you were there. Though, it didn't stick. The moment he had convinced you to hang out after your classes, go to parties with him or just stay in his place, he stopped showing up on the campus regularly.
The night at the party, he knew you wanted to sleep with him, and believe me, god, he wanted the same. But it never happened, it just didn't.
Maybe seeing him in tears or wiping the vomit off his mouth had just ruined the mood for you or ruined the magic, but you never tried to cross that line again and for some reason, he didn't either. It just didn't feel the same again.
But he likes talking and you are a good listener. You make good coffee, even though he never liked it before he tasted yours and you both don't like sleeping that much. Countless nights spent with him and you, side by side, resting on his bed or just sitting outside or somewhere, talking and laughing and doing…human things. Bonding, chatting, getting to know each other, being honest, with no expectations, no promises — only "So this is me. Do you take it?" And the silence followed after, and silence had never been a rejection.
It is almost pathetic how unfamiliar he was with the concept until he met you.
If he is being honest, he still finds you attractive. Of course you are. He thinks you are charming; and whatever he needs, you find a way to give it to him. He doubts himself sometimes, wondering if he had ever returned the favor. But you are still there, and you probably will be there and does the rest matter?
He is sure that this is love, at least in one form or some.
You are, for him.
But he knows you. He knows that whatever you feel for him is not what he wants you to feel. And he knows that what you see when you look at him will never be what he wants to show you. And he knows that in your eyes, he will always be the teary eyed, stumbling, wreck of a boy you met.
He wants your touch, because maybe if you feel his skin, feel the warmth, it might just melt the ice around your sheltered heart. And if he gives you everything you don't get from anyone else, maybe you will let him in. He speaks in flesh, in bones and lips and fingers and nails — and you speak in a language he didn't know it existed.
You don't speak at all.
You are his best friend, he is not yours. He doubts you have anyone else either. You are not made for people, you are not made to be known.
You see, but are never seen; you hear, but are never heard.
But you love him, you might be the only one who does. And he doesn't care if it's not the way he needs to be loved. It's what he gets, it's fine. It's better than nothing.
Sure, it could have been more, had you let him in — he could have shown you how greatly, abundantly, exceedingly one can be loved that it would feel like drowning (choking). And you could have shown him what he taught you, maybe.
But you two don't know how to speak to each other; you only know how to exist, and you manage to do it together. Maybe that's enough.
He is sure you wouldn't know how even if he had asked.
Surely, it's more than he deserves. So he doesn't ask for more.
(Note that: both of you think you know the other better)
(Note that: neither of you know the other.)
#house of the dragon#aegon ii targaryen#hotd#aegon targaryen#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aegon x reader#aegon ii x reader
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Carlos de Vil meeting a past childhood friend that he kinda abandoned when he and the core 4 went to Auradon? His friend is now kinda bitter and cold towards him...never getting over how he never even said a proper goodbye or tried to visit.. (there were also some pining so, tension maybe?)
Oh finally angst I love you so much

Give up, Please. | Descendants
Warnings: angst and apathy
When you and Carlos were kids you were inseparable. Everyone knew that. Of course, that lasted only until Carlos and the rest of the group were invited to Auradon. You were the only one not invited to the prestigious school on the mainland, none of you were given a choice. Those who were invited had to go, and those who weren't had to stay on the isle, alone.
Just a couple-ish years later they extended an invitation to you, though it acts more as a bitter reminder than anything. All you wanted was to say no, but once again you had no choice. Just looking at the piece of paper left a sour taste in your mouth.
After a two hour drive, you finally go through the gates of Auradon Prep. Thinking back to when you and Carlos were a duo, you would've been thrilled to get your own invitation so you could see him again. But now you dread the idea of seeing any of your former friends. What if they've become more successful than you will ever be? What if they forgot about you, and replaced the empty spot with some princess girl?
Your thoughts are interrupted by the driver handing you your single bag of luggage, then pointing to your tour guide. For a second you don't recognize him, but sadly you can never forget that smile. Carlos. Damnit. Swallowing down your worries, you nod in greeting, saying nothing to the boy. I mean, what're you supposed to say to your former best friend (and crush) who abandoned you?
After a nearly silent tour, Carlos turns to you worriedly, as if finally being fed up with your coldness towards him. Those dumb puppy dog eyes always got to you, obviously they still do. "I really missed you." is all he says to you at first, not directly acknowledging what happened.
"Yeah." Great response. Perfect, actually. Luckily, it's the end of the tour, and you're at your dorm. "Thanks for showing me around, Carlos." No nickname or anything, just straight to the point.
His heart hurts hearing your tone, guilt eating him up inside. He thought you would be so happy to see him after so long, as if you'd been waiting for him ever since he left. He never considered that you would be upset with him for leaving without an explanation... Or maybe he never wanted to consider that.
After that, he tries his best to reconnect with you, practically cornering you while you're working on potion recipes Mother Gothel sent with you. "So.... How's the isle been? I haven't been there in a while."
It's like a stab to the heart. "It's been how it's always been. Lonely but crowded... Boring." He deflates at your response, finally letting the reality of his mistakes set in.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left you like that." He's focusing on what he doesn't need to be.
"You could've left just fine if you had told me about it and sent me letters, Carlos. You know that." It's clear that you have no plans to forgive him, it's obvious to everyone but him. Even the students who're just in the kitchen for a midnight snack who watch the encounter from afar.
He stops trying to go back to exactly how it was after that. Sometimes you're assigned a project with him, and it's fairly cordial. He still looks at you longingly in every class together. When he's not looking, you do too.

I enjoyed this.
#descendants x reader#carlos de vil x reader#⋆ ★♟️— reply#descendants imagine#descendants headcanons#carlos descendants#descendants angst
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a lesson in friction
summary: you have the hots for your professor pairing: dane whitman x male reader word count: 1.1k warnings: 18+ warning, frottage, dry humping, professor/student, dni if uncomfy a/n: first entry to the kink challenge have fun!
main masterlist | the repentant's corner
“Kinetic friction is a force present when the contact surfaces move with respect to each other,” your physics professor said. His midnight blue sleeves rolled up along his muscular forearms as he pointed at the slideshow. “ It is also known as sliding friction and acts on surfaces sliding past one another.”
Your eyes wander to his slicked black hair and his eyes that look like bottomless pits. The topmost buttons opened revealing some hair on his chest. You crossed your legs from the growing heat in your center, your mind falling into the palms of lust.
The hour went by in a blur, you listened to his voice steadfast, taking down notes and copying the words on the screen. You couldn’t really focus, his shirt was tight against his toned body, his arms shown definition, his waist small and his ass—
“That’s all for today everyone,” he said, closing his laptop and turning off the screen. “And by the way, I’m staying behind for another thirty minutes if anyone wants some feedback on their papers.”
Everyone leaves except for you, fumbling to get your things tidied up before you speak to him. “Professor Whitman, I’d like to talk to you about my paper.”
“Sure thing, come closer so I can see it.”
You went to the first row seats of the class, he stands inches away from your face, his waist perpendicular to your skull. He takes a finger to your paper, pointing out some errors in your computation. He takes a pencil off the desk and wraps his body around yours.
His left arm pressed against the seat’s backrest and his right arm around you holding the pencil. He circled on the mistakes in your solution and gave a few comments on how you can improve. You could feel his warmth cover you, his musky scent fills your senses and the friction between your bodies elicits a soft moan.
He places his left hand on your shoulder to rub it, “Fantastic work, some minor revisions here and there and you’d get a perfect score,” your cheeks start to heat up from the touch. He leaves your side to put his laptop in his leather messenger bag, wrapping the charging cord around his hands. “How’s the internship going, you’re in that tech apprenticeship, right?” you nod.
As you tried to get up you felt a pain in between your legs, your cock aching hard, straining against your jeans. You quickly sat back down so he wouldn't notice. You heard him snicker under his breath. “Havin’ trouble there?”
Panic rose from your spine, you were caught and this will go badly. He sat on the edge of the large hardwood table in front of you, his arms crossed. “You wouldn’t sit properly throughout class, always moving your legs around like you had your balls stung by an ant.”
“I’m so sorry Mr. Whitman—”
“It’s alright, typical arousal response to stimuli,” his eyes were dead set on yours as he spoke. “May I ask if I’m the stimulus in this situation?”
You nod in shame. You looked down on the desk avoiding his gaze. You heard the table creak, he slowly inched closer. His index finger went to your chin, lifting your face back to his gaze. “What was it then, was it my touch?” he said as he caressed your cheeks. You nod like a dog given a treat. “No need for apologies, I’m simply here to help.”
He gestured for you to stand, you tried to rearrange your hardness so as not to tent. He places his thumb on your lips. He asks for you permission before he presses his own lips to yours. The heat, lifting towards him. You groaned under his breath as his tongue reached for yours.
He spun you around, your ass against the hardwood desk, his hand went to your crotch caressing your erection. You moaned aloud as you felt a wetness form from your tip. He played with you through frictions, your hands gripped onto his muscular arms.
“Go lock the door and come back here,” he ordered.
The silence in the room was broken by the sound of a lock. He takes your hands and presses them on the table, your back arched towards his waist. You could feel his own erection press against your ass as he starts to thrust on your jeans, the friction sending electricity through his skin.
Your own hardness was rubbing against the edge of the table. He started to place kisses all over your nape up to your ear, his hands caressing your torso. The heat emanating from his body was like a drug to you, his scent was addicting and his moans on your ear was borderline erotic.
He starts to unbutton your jeans until your leaking cock was bare against the airconditioned room. He lets his palm out in front of you and spits on it. The sight was so lewd coming from him you started to get dizzy. His wet hands touched the sensitive tip of your cock making you shudder in response. He takes this as a sign to wrap the remaining fingers around the shaft slowly sliding up and down.
Your mouth let out nothing but grunt and groans as he sucked on the skin of your neck, his hands jerking you off while his hips rut against your back. Your head falls back against his shoulder as your hips thrust into his hand. You feel your climax coming, your noises sounded like you were pleading for release. The friction of his hand against the sensitive head broke the dam inside you, you let out a cry as cum shot off into the desk. You hear him moan as well as his thrusts become erratic, you share one last kiss after you ride your highs.
“Sorry about the desk,” you uttered.
“Don’t worry, at least it's not your trousers,” he gestures for the wet patch in his pants.
You laugh. “I should go, thanks I guess?” you said in confusion.
“Anytime,” he laughs as well.
interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>
#dane whitman#dane whitman fic#dane whitman x reader#dane whitman x reader smut#dane whitman x male reader#dane whitman x male reader smut#eternals fic#eternals smut#the repentant's corner event#marvel smut#avengers smut#kit harington#dane whitman smut
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hi! i hope you’re doing well. i was wondering if i could request some angelus hcs? maybe something like being angels gf and how it would be dating angelus or something? i’m sorry i’m horrible at requests. i hope this makes sense.

angelus x female!reader ; hot evil vampire and you are dating.
word count — 1,146.
themes + warnings ; hot evil vampire stalking but like in a good way if that makes sense? some men are creeps as a warning too, also some small possessive nature takes place here — putting that as a warning bc some people don’t personally like that! female reader if y’all couldn’t tell by the request!
author’s note — you made perfect sense my dear <3! i honestly got super excited seeing this so i hope you enjoy!
support mention ; if you feel like supporting, a nice ‘like’ will suffice on my blog, i know some writers love to ask nicely if you could reblog or comment etc. yet on my blog (no hate towards them as everyone likes appreciation in different ways), but if you’d like to reblog or comment feel free after all this is a safe space for any fan-individual to have fun :’)
masterlist

so let’s just establish the fact as of this headcanon section, you’ve been in a relationship with angel for a few months and you have yet to see angelus popping up during this time yet angel had been open enough with you to let you know about the dark side of him.
it’s late at night upon a school night, nearly midnight, and you know damn well you should be heading back to your room (whether bedroom or dorm you decide) but you decide that perhaps another loop around the town wouldn’t be too terrible especially since angel was willingly busy helping your friend willow with a history lesson as she demanded to know the real truth from someone who had experienced that part of history.
you had heard a low whistle as you crossed the street as you were determined to see if your favorite cafe was still offering any of your beloved treats before they closed at midnight and you felt yourself mentally freeze while you physically kept walking. footsteps fell behind you from a few feet away on the sidewalk and you felt a pair of eyes upon you from both the sidewalk along with one from an upper level yet you thought you were going crazy as nobody could be upon the roof.
you see angel had to cut the history lesson with willow short, as for some reason he couldn’t shake the thought of you wandering around alone out of his head, which lead to angelus peeking out and in a dick-headed way had announced to willow that he was over it and was leaving. now here he was having been following you for the past few blocks upon the rooftops before his eyes zeroed in upon the drunk young adult in a dark grey hoodie who stumbled along following you in the direction of what he knew was your favorite cafe.
oh hell no, angelus would think to himself, only i am allowed to follow my stór and he would hear his mother whisper in the wind to do whatever he could to protect his beloved treasure. he would be quick to speed ahead and jump down into a nearby alleyway only to casually pop out of it and lovingly call for you before he would make it obvious that he saw the creepy man behind you.
our beloved obnoxious vampire would be quick to loudly question “are you alright my stór? i can’t have my wife being all upset now can i?” he’d claim you as his spouse in order to get the creepy guy to realize he was making a fatal mistake, this would be a little bit of angel coming out to ensure that angelus wouldn’t go too far. you’d be quick to realize that this isn’t angel due to the fact that he never really gave you a nickname besides lover or my lover, not to mention the fact that his irish accent peaked out a bit more with the newly given name. this was angelus in all his glory and you couldn’t help but childishly grin as you knew that he finally stepped forward.
you would watch as he stepped towards the man who dared to keep stepping closer with his drunken eyes trained upon you and you would watch as a wide smirk casted itself upon angelus’ face as he grabbed the drunk by his own hoodie and slammed his face against the nearby brick of a closed store. you’d watch as his vampiric face came to light and you’d watch as he’d drain the drunken man nearly empty and you couldn’t help the childish giggle that escaped you upon the sight. which you had deemed as odd and unexpected but it made you happy to see the wild yet bloody grin you got from angelus as he dropped the body and turned toward you.
from that moment on, angelus would make it his mission to take over angel whenever he deemed it necessary as their girl happened to like his chaotic brutal nature.
i feel like angelus would be more willing to open up about his backstory with you, as opposed to angel, and he would tell you about how he decided to take the name that his mother would have given him upon his birth.
it’s never a dull moment being in a relationship with angelus. you’ll have to get used to others being rude to you as you watch your chaotic boy go off and play his games — his games that he wouldn’t dare to use on you, sure maybe a lil manipulation if the moment called for it in order to persuade you to perhaps get to safety or not do something too wreckless, but outside of that he wouldn’t use any games on you. after all, you’re his beloved stór, and he wouldn’t wanna tarnish his treasure.
this one is down for literally anything you wanna do, even like i said it’s too wreckless for you to do ; he would want to do it in place of you after he tells you off about it. if you couldn’t tell from earlier in this post, if you wanna walk around or run around during the night, you’re gonna have a six foot shadow following you around to ensure your safety. he doesn’t really give up on his stalking that he had begun upon angel seeing you for the first time, it’s kind of a given and eventually you figure it out and you don’t really seem to care — much to angel’s own small disagreement with it. (angel would think he was a monster for stalking you even though he couldn’t help it due to angelus’ obsession with you)
you’d have a lot of metaphorically-inherited enemies once you fall in love with angelus but a lot of them would be too afraid to come towards you or hurt you, out of the fear of your beloved man coming at them like a chaotic gremlin. i feel like they’d know your name and possibly call it out to you along with a vague threat or two thrown your way but then not really go to attack you physically out of the risk of potentially losing their own lives.
oh oh, last but not least, angelus would love to drink your blood whenever you would possibly let him, even if it’s a silly little papercut and that’s the only way you approve of it, he would get so hyper and quickly react similar to a dog with a bone. he wouldn’t stop until the cut itself would heal itself from the venom in his teeth, after all the venom runs through his body and it helps heal him, it would heal would consider … the whole reason why he has an obsession with you in the first place … being meant to be.
#angel the series x reader#angel x reader#angelus x reader#angel the series#angel#angelus#buffyverse#buffyverse x reader#buffy the vampire slayer x reader#buffy the vampire slayer
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