#and i don't want to hide or fight or ignore either
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doctorprofessorsong · 1 year ago
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Important to note:
"More than a third of LGBTQ Americans live in the South (36%), while 29% live in the West. A smaller proportion of LGBTQ Americans live in the Midwest (20%) and in the Northeast (16%). The five states that are home to the largest shares of LGBTQ Americans are California (14%), Texas (8%), Florida (6%), New York (6%), and Illinois (4%)."
USAmericans: This pride month, talk to the queer people who actually live in all those bad evil icky red states and find out what it's actually like, how we actually feel about it, and who here is actively fighting against it. No more telling us to "just leave" or reducing us to innocent victims who are "trapped" here. There are so many of us and we live here for so many reasons, none of which should be justified. We are resilient, we are powerful, and we are fighting against the fascist laws working to eradicate us or scare us away. Being trans in a red state right now is in and of itself an act of resistance. That being said, pay attention to the brave souls on the front lines, pushing against the laws, making good trouble, and refusing to be silenced.
I won't let myself be talked about like I'm stupid to live here.
I won't let myself be talked about like I'm a helpless victim who's trapped here.
If you can't join the fight by standing beside us, then the least you can do is empower us, amplify our voices, and pay more attention to the ones who are FIGHTING AGAINST THESE LAWS than you are to the chucklefucks trying to pass them.
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fairlyang · 3 months ago
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Sweet🐺
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w/c: 2.6k
pairing: lumberjack!logan x f!reader
tags: 18+ smut. teasing, thighs, soaked panties, he wants you to fold, he pulls over, cunnilingus, exhibitionism, more teasing, he’s filthy and in love
a/n: brain has been rotting for like three weeks now all i’m thinking about is this old man 💔 i started this one august 27😀 two more on the way surely
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imagine teasing logan all afternoon long so when you’re both en route to the lumberyard — because he liked having your company on the drive and to show you off to his coworkers, he decided he was going to play your game but be far worse than you were. 
you were showing yourself off to him while he was in a hurry to leave the house, trying to cling onto him to have a quickie because you were just so horny and wanted to satisfy the ache between your thighs.
it took all his willpower to reject your advances because he had a schedule to follow but boy, did you look good in his flannel.
so now he’s squeezing, rubbing a hand up and down your thigh while he’s driving and not giving you any more or any less. 
he had been playing this little game just over ten minutes out of the forty five minute drive and you were already dying. you needed more so bad but you wanted to be stubborn. 
he didn't give in so easily either, so you somehow had to do the same. 
you looked straight ahead, ignoring the way his gaze turned to you and tried your best to remain calm. he was always going to make sure to get you back but this time you just weren't budging, and he couldn't have that.
he could just tell you were close to breaking, just based off how you were struggling to keep your hands to yourself and just had them on your seat plus the seatbelt. add along that sweet smell coming between your legs, who were you trying to fool?
your thighs nearly clasped together against his hand as he reached your inner thigh and gave it a squeeze until he clicked his tongue, quickly drawing your attention to his face, "thought you liked playing games princess?" he huffed under his breath, a smirk appearing on his lips.
you bit your lip and turned away, too close.
"c'mon baby you know you need me." he murmured, his voice husky and low.
"I don't know what you're talking about." you lied and looked out of your window, in an attempt to hide your obvious expression.
"mm.. yeah I'm sure." he chuckled, letting his hand rub lightly against your skin, nearly touching your panties. 
you control your breathing as best as you could but he was not making it any easier for you. always had to prove he had a strong effect on you.
"is that why you're already soaking through your panties?" he asked, letting out a little groan because the smell alone was nearly making him lose his focus on driving.
"you can't lie to me, baby." he murmurs and glides his hands under your skirt, reaching up and lightly rubs your clothed pussy. 
he was desperate to please you and needed to taste you. so he pulled over making you turn to look at him, “what are you doing?”
he didn’t answer instead turned off the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt. he opened his door, then got out, walking over to you while you looked at him with wide eyes. he opened your door and reached over to take your seatbelt off then grabbed your legs to turn them to face him before lifting them up making you gasp and try to fight against him but it was to no use. “logan we could get caught-“ you whined and he shrugged.
“think about that the next time you wanna be a tease.” he murmurs and pulls your skirt up.
he gets down on his knees and first admires the wet spot you had on your pretty pink panties. he was not at all surprised and if anything he was shocked they weren’t even more soaked.
“thought you didn’t need me..” he teased, looking up at you as he wrapped his arms around your legs.
you whimpered and squirmed, desperately wanting to let go of his grasp just for the sole fact that you know you’ll die of embarrassment if you get caught. but logan wasn’t budging and he saw this as a form of punishment for you.
he leaned in and planted a kiss on your clit before kissing down until he got to your entrance and licked over the fabric. you let out a moan but quickly covered your mouth with your hand to keep quiet, “mmm so wet for me aren’t you, sweet girl?”
you shivered and involuntarily bucked your hips up making him chuckle, “and so needy.”
he licked back up to your clit and then circled the bud with his tongue, looking up at you to ensure you’re looking right back at him.
you couldn’t look away.
the way he’s doing this on the side of the road when he knows anyone could pass by at any moment and he just.. doesn’t care. the idea of someone catching you was in the back of your mind now but it was still enough to make you wetter.
it had always been something you wanted to try but were too nervous to bring it up. makes perfect sense logan knew you all too well and just wanted to do it.
and given the fact he’s stubborn, of course he’s going to stay put. once he puts his mind on something, it’s a done deal.
“so kind of you to give me my dessert so early, bub.” he murmurs, making your legs shake.
“just so sweet aren’t you?” he murmurs, pulling your panties to the side, “my sweet girl.” he adds, retaining eye contact as he began to eat you out softly.
“fuck logan-“ you moaned and moved your hand away from your mouth down to his head.
you played with his hair, a small indicator that’ll give his coworkers the answers as to why he’s late. you lightly tugged and he moaned against you. his fingers gripped your thighs and he started eating you out properly, how you wanted, needed. like the hungry, insatiable man he was.
he lapped at your folds for a bit and then went up to suck on your clit before flicking it. meanwhile one of his hands went down and he collected your slick with one of his fingers then going lower to tease your entrance. “baby please-“ you whined, a cute little pout forming on your lips. one that popped up when you didn’t get your way.
he only shook his head earning himself whines and sweet cries from you. those cute whines that always had him struggling to not give in to you.
you had to earn it. but his patience was also running thin and he needed to be inside you.
so he slipped a finger inside. he should’ve had you beg a little more but he couldn’t help it, that look on your face drove him insane and he had to make you moan more for him.
he went as deep as he could go then pulled it back and slipped a second finger. you whined as he thrusted them into you and he pulled away from your clit just so he could leave a kiss on your thigh. “that feel good, pretty girl?”
you could only nod, the position making it feel so much better than usual. he started to pump them faster, only looking at your face to see your eyes already fluttering and you biting your lip as if that’ll help from any noises leaving your mouth.
you were trying hard to not moan, really not wanting to get caught but given the fact the car was pulled over and logan was on his knees on the pavement, anyone’s first assumption would not be a good one.
he fucked you harder, letting your pussy gush all over his fingers. you wouldn’t be able to deny wanting him afterwards because of how easily soaked he made you.
at times he’s barely even touched you and all of a sudden your panties would be drenched. it was one thing he loved about you or more so, his affect on you. you were just so perfect. almost as if you were sculpted just for him.
“just so fucking perfect, aren’t you baby?” he murmured making you whimper and clench down on his fingers while he added, “soaking my hand because you just can’t help it huh?”
“f-fuck.. logan… j-just like t-that-“ you stammer, grinding your hips up because you were desperate for more.
“oh i know baby, i know. you just let out those sweet noises for me.” he purred and you tried to lay your head back but quickly remembering you couldn’t.
“c-can we.. can we go to the back?” you asked and he shook his head.
“not today sweetheart, need you like this right now.” he mumbled and pumped his fingers faster.
whines escaped your lips and you were struggling to keep your legs up so with his free hand, he held your left leg up. he kissed the skin gently before going back down to suck on your clit.
you tugged on his hair again, prompting him to moan against you which sent shivers down your spine. you brought your right hand down to try and find his, once you felt it you intertwined your fingers with his to hold your leg together.
he looked into your eyes, on the brink of tears and looking right back at his. you looked so beautiful.
a sweet melody of moans left your mouth and it only made him hungrier to hear more. he thrusted his fingers deeper and continued sucking on your clit. “baby-“ you whimper and hold his hand tighter.
he groaned against you, making you shiver and give him a small smile. so perfect.
such a sweet, perfect girl.
he closed his eyes and right as he pumped his fingers as deep as he could, he curled them perfectly to hit your g spot. his pace slowed down but the pleasure never left and only enhanced.
he only focused on how you felt and how your moans began to be more breathless. your nails were lightly digging into his skin which quickly surprised him but he didn’t mind the slight pain at all.
you felt your orgasm build up in your belly causing your thighs start to shake and somehow squeezing against his fingers even more.
“just like that baby- fuck! please don’t stop!” you pleaded and gripped his hair, trying to pull him even closer as if he isn’t as buried as he can be.
he didn’t mind your desperation, if anything he was obsessed with it. it’s a nice thing to see because you’re not always like this, most of the time you’re bratty and spoiled rotten. he could only blame himself for the latter but this was a sight for sore eyes.
especially with how insane you were driving him earlier. so he had to make sure his pretty girl was going to get what she wanted because he simply didn’t have it in him to not give it you.
suddenly he changed his pace, going faster than before but still making sure to hit your sweet spot each time. your moans filled his ears again and he could feel your walls tighten around his fingers. “logan- baby i’m- i’m so-“ you whimpered out, not able to let out a coherent thought.
he pulled away to quickly murmur, “cum for me sweetheart, i’ve got you.”
and with that you let go, letting your orgasm hit you hard as logan slowed down so you could ride out your high. your juices were dripping down and covering more of his hand so he had to open his eyes to see the mess.
it was a beautiful disaster.
he pulled away from your clit and left soft kisses on your thigh while you let go of his hair and his hand. you were breathing heavily, eyelids fluttering and body shaking. he let go of your leg and helped you bring it down while he slowly pulled his fingers out of you.
they left with a loud plop making your eyes go wide, looking down at them and they were absolutely drenched. you looked at him and slowly opened your mouth, “such a good girl.” he muttered under his breath as he pulled his fingers up to your mouth.
you took them all the way and licked every drop while looking down at him. his eyes rolled to the back of his head before looking back at you. he pulled his fingers out and looked at how glossy your lips got.
he fixed your panties for you then helped you sit back up while you fixed your skirt. he got up, put your seatbelt on and gave you a kiss when he was done. he slid his tongue inside just so he could taste you once more.
he pulled away, walking back then closing the door shut. he walked back to the drivers seat, quickly getting in and putting his own seatbelt on then started the engine. “might want to take a short nap princess, it’s still quite a drive..” he says and gets back onto the road.
you turn to look at him, absolutely dumbfounded that he still wanted to go to work after that. “you’re joking-“
“i’m not baby, someone’s gotta work to take care of you.” he says with a chuckle making you gasp.
“i can literally-“ you started but he quickly cut you off, “just take a nap love, we’ll get there in no time.”
“so stubborn- i can’t believe you’re going to make me drive back home after that.” you whined and he could only chuckle.
“go to sleep you’re tired.” he says and you sigh.
you got as comfortable as you could be and let your body succumb to sleeplessness.
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you woke up to light shakes and the sounds of loud machinery which instantly made you groan. you wiped your eyes then opened them to see logan staring at you with a grin on his face making you groan. “you’re evil for this.” you mutter and he shrugs.
he gets out of the car and that was when a brilliant idea came to mind and you took out a tube of lipstick from the pocket of your skirt and quickly put it on while he made his way to your door. you were somehow able to not over-line it just in time when he opened your door and offered you his hand.
you unbuckled your seatbelt and held the tube in your left hand while you took his hand with your right, letting him help you out. you nearly fell which made you thankful he was always a gentleman and helped you out often otherwise this would look off.
but based off the whistles and yells that came from other lumbermen maybe it wasn’t so discreet. he closed the door and held your waist with his left hand while you leaned onto him, trying to look semi normal.
with a few more limp steps you made it to the drivers side, he opened the door for you and you leaned up to kiss the side of his neck right where it’d be perfectly visible. you pulled away only to go down and do the same to one of the flaps of his flannel, the color was just dark enough to be able to tell what it was.
you pulled away and gave him a big smile while he just happily sighed, “drive safely, bub.”
you leaned up once again but this time gave him a small peck, “i love you.” you murmur against his lips before pulling away and taking a seat on the drivers seat.
“see ya in a few hours sweet girl.” he murmured, giving you a wink before walking towards his coworkers who were hollering like madmen.
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all-purpose-dish-soap · 6 months ago
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34 / 3.2k / part 2 of shark mermen Gaz and Soap for mermay >:)
...
You wake up to the morning sunlight glimmering off Gaz's salt-glazed skin. He's leaning over you, watching you intently with those fathomless all-black eyes.
You gasp and immediately drag yourself away--or try to, given the way his tail is wound under your legs like a snake's. In your haste, you bump up against Soap, who lurks behind you, somehow again taking you by total surprise.
Your heels scrape against sharp gravel as you fight to get out of reach. Gaz's tail coils inward as if to drag you back in, and you almost collapse over it in your scramble. But you finally manage to get out of reach. You stare down at them, your heart pounding in confusion and panic.
Soap smirks like this is the most fun he's had in weeks. His tail swishes in the shallows behind him. "G'morning."
This is a nightmare. A hallucination.
"Don't look so shocked," Soap says. "You've still got all your pieces. You really should try being more thankful. We saved your life."
"Saved my--" You cough and sputter. Salt and sand coat your throat. "You tried to kill me!"
"You would've died anyway," Gaz says. His matter-of-fact tone of voice is somehow more terrifying than Soap's high-energy arrogance.
"We were havin' a little look at you," Soap says. "That's all."
"You bit me!"
"Just a nip," Gaz admits. "I was curious."
"I wasn't," Soap says with a flash of his sharp teeth. He looks down at the second set of teeth marks--his teeth marks--on your calf. "That's a love bite."
⬇ nsfw, monster mermen, overt predator/prey dynamics, blood kink ⬇
You pull your legs in, withdrawing further up the rocky beach as you get to your feet. You don't have much space to get away from them. Worse, this tiny cove will be all but swallowed by high tide. The only way out is either back into the water or up the rocky face of the cliffs on all sides. You can only imagine the rock cutting into your bare hands and feet--or worse, climbing halfway up, slipping, and landing on the carpet of glass-sharp gravel.
There’s nowhere to go.
Soap stretches toward you again as you back away. He does it in this motion like a shrug, like he's luring you into a false sense of security by making you think he just happens to be putting his hands near your ankle. He can’t hide how the muscles in his shoulders bunch, wanting to pounce. "You'd have a better chance jumping back into the sea and holding your breath than climbing those rocks, human. Maybe you outswim us this time, even. Want to try?"
"I'll take my chances," you snap. His claw brushes your foot, and you quickly backpedal, climbing up onto the biggest boulder you can manage. It's only about as waist-high, though, and unsteady. Not quite tall enough to boost you toward any solid footholds up the forty-or-so-foot cliffside. Still, you have to try.
Gaz watches with annoyance as you reach for a shallow indent in the rock. "You'll kill yourself. Be reasonable," he scolds.
Your fingers find uncertain purchase in the shallow ridge overhead, and you force your toes to get with the program and grip what might be a rocky shelf to your side.
The two mer watch you haul yourself up a few feet. Soap pushes himself up the beach to get a better view, tail curling. Gaz studies the muscles in your legs. Then he watches your hands grip the rocks. You look even more defenseless in the sunlight, skin battered from exposure and clothes torn from the waves. His eyes follow the curve of your calf to the blood that's dried on your ankle. It looks bad.
He doesn't see you making it high enough for the inevitable fall to kill you, but it irritates him that you're choosing to act like this. You're fragile. Obviously, if he and Soap wanted to kill you, you'd be dead. They did their best to not kill you. He did, anyway.
"You think we'd let you drown when the tide comes in after keeping your fragile human body alive and intact this long?" Gaz calls up.
You ignore this in favor of boosting yourself up another foot. Your fingers slip on the next hold. Gravel clatters down the rock and showers both mer.
Soap smirks. "Gonnae fall, aye?”
Gaz's voice is flat. "Let her."
You make it up another two footholds before you slip.
Soap's smirk morphs into a wild laugh as you topple backward. You land on the rocks, hard, air knocked out of you with a surprised gasp. Both mer prowl toward you.
You dig the heels of your hands into the wet sand to scramble to your feet again. A sudden, sharp pain makes you hiss. You rip your hands out of the gravel to see a shard of curved glass sticking out of your palm of your dominant hand. Blood stains the base and wells up, trailing down your wrist.
Soap clocks the smell of blood. "What d'you want to try next, hmm?" he muses, tail swishing behind him. "Hurry up before the tide comes in or that cut'll attract somethin' unfriendly."
You glare at him. You want to scream. Or cry. You need help, but what are the chances the rescue boats will come back this way?
"So?" you snap, hiding your hand against your chest as he leans closer. "What does it matter to me if you eat me or something else does?"
"We don't care to eat you," Gaz says. "And if we did, we wouldn't share."
"Don't know about that, Gaz," Soap purrs. "You think she looks delicious, don't ya?"
You look from one to the other, still clutching your bleeding hand. "Why would you bring me here if you didn't want to eat me?"
"Curiosity." Gaz's eyes dart back to your face. “I told you.”
Frustration burns in your chest. "You bit me. You dragged me around the water. What else is fucking left to be curious about?"
Gaz hesitates. To him, you are a sight. Tattered clothes clinging to your damp body, he can see more of you than when he first spied you on that little boat, sitting so carelessly with your legs dangling in the water.
He stares at the bite wound on your arm. It's not just a “nip” like Soap’s--it's deep. A bite that left a deep, dark, ugly mark surrounded by a ring of dark blue-purple bruising. It will scar. The memory of his teeth will always be in your skin. He can still taste you: fresh adrenaline, copper blood, and seawater.
"What you feel like." His voidlike eyes are half-lidded, his voice soft. "Up close."
You glance back at him, your heart pounding. You're defenseless right now--you have been since they threw you onto this beach. So there has to be some truth to what they're saying, right? You remember reading somewhere that sharks are curious. That they sometimes investigate with their teeth, biting without any real intent to injure. So... maybe...
Soap leans in behind you and skims his clawed fingertip up your arm, his voice just past the shell of your ear. "We can take you back to shore, easy. We just need to clean those wounds. How about it," he purrs into your ear. "Gonnae help us help you?"
You shy away from his touch, feeling goosebumps break out all over. "Okay. Okay, fine." You glance down at your hand, then at Soap. "But not... not you."
You look at Gaz, hesitant, but your meaning is clear.
Soap's smirk twists into a frown. "Why not me?"
Gaz snatches your wrist. "Come here, then."
You find yourself pulled into the arms of a shark again as Gaz shuffles you into the crook of his arm. You're awed at how much bigger than humans these shark mer are. He coils his tail under you both. He grips your bloodied wrist in one hand and plants the other firmly on your hip to slide you even more flush against him. Any protest you had dies in your throat as he repositions your injured hand in his and plucks the glass out in a single, rough motion. A gasp punches out of you. The noise has Gaz pulling you closer, his arm wrapped tight around you.
You tense up, watching the claws on his hands very carefully, but he seems to maneuver you in such a careful, conscientious way to keep from hurting you with them that, once he has you positioned on his tail, you relax somewhat. They really are being careful with you, you realize. Some of the tension leaves your shoulders. You breathe out through your teeth. You can let this happen. Some people would love to be in your position, even. There's something tender but not quite gentle in how he grips you and how his thumb presses into your thigh.
He tucks your head under his chin. A low hum vibrates in his chest. Something about the sound is soothing. Or at least distracting enough that you don't notice him moving your hand to his mouth until his hot tongue laves over your wound.
Your blood--in his mouth--and roaring in your ears. How did you let yourself be tricked into letting a shark lap up your blood while he’s holding you close enough that you can see the beads of sea water clinging to the scarred ridges of his chest?
Even Gaz is somewhat surprised at the way his tongue instinctively scrapes over your wound to stem the blood flow. It's not an entirely animal compulsion to lick the wound clean--it's a practical enough way to clear away the blood. Tasting you is a bonus. That's what he tells himself as he trails his tongue down your arm to catch what's dripping down in rivulets to your elbow.
You squirm at the sting. Gaz tightens his grip.
"Is that all you were curious about, then?" Soap asks, sliding closer. He's talking to Gaz but looks down at you with glimmering solid blue eyes.
"Steady," he breathes, his voice still rough. He can smell your nervousness. He can feel your heart pounding. "She's got cuts all over. Let me..."
You feel his hands begin to peel away your tattered clothes and slide under them. You bite down on a squeal, grabbing his wrist. "Hey--!"
Before you can voice your protests fully, Soap's fingers brush the small bite mark on your ankle. You jolt, pulling your legs away and hugging them to yourself. Distracted by this, Gaz lets his free hand glide over the outside of your leg. His calloused fingers follow the curve of your hip, your thigh, your calf. He tugs your leg free so he can study the underside, too. He runs the pads of his fingers all the way back up to the bend of your knee, along the flesh of your hamstring, across the inside of your thigh. You shiver.
At the same time, Soap tugs at the bottom of your tattered shirt with interest. "Why d'you humans wear cloth? Is it because your skin is too thin?" Before you can reconsolidate yourself enough to answer, he scoffs. "All the good it does you. Shreds easier than seaweed."
“Mm,” Gaz agrees absently. He shifts you so your back is back braced up against his chest, your legs bunched up atop his tail. This way, he can keep you here and keep his hands free. He’ll have as much access to you as he needs.
At this angle, you feel rather than see the smooth dark planes of Gaz's chest and stomach. It should be wrong to notice the scars that run over his arms as they pass over you. Or the way his muscles ripple under your back. His body is a dichotomy: warm to the touch and smooth as fine silk, but rough and coarse with scars. Plus there’s the shark half.
Soap snatches up one of your ankles. He prods at your foot. "You get around on these?"
You huff. "When I can, clearly."
He runs the edge of one of his claws over the top of your foot, follows the arched bone underneath, and presses into your instep. He pokes and prods and presses hard on the ball of your foot with a curious look. "Must be slow."
"Doesn't have to be fast," you mutter.
"Then how d'you catch food?"
"I don't have to catch my food."
"You're a predator, though. You've got eyes facing forward."
"I can hunt what I need to hunt.” Salads and instant noodles, but you don’t bother saying that.
"That's good." Soap's hands slide to your toes. He finds it weird how your feet sort of resemble his hands. Little fingers and claws and everything. "As long as you've got prey slower and smaller and softer than you are."
"If that's even possible," Gaz says.
You scowl. Rude.
Gaz seems to enjoy your sour reaction a little too much. "I suppose your prey must be stupid, too."
"Watch it."
A smirk plays at his lips as his gaze flicks down to the rest of you, curled up on his lap in his arms. "Do you think you can make me? What'll you do--scratch me with your claws?" He laces your fingers with his. Your soft, blunt human fingers and his thicker, sharper, callused ones. "Bite me with your razor-sharp teeth?"
"Maybe."
"How vicious." He nudges your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. "Go on, then."
You consider it. Then you realize it would just prove his point, so you turn your face away with a huff. You wish you'd paid more attention to all those National Geographic specials about mer. You don't specifically remember any real-life cases of shark mer eating humans, but there are definitely made-for-TV movies about it.
Soap's hands creep up to your calf. His thumbs prod your shin and then your kneecap. "I can feel her bones," he says in surprise.
"We both have bones.”
"Well, yours are like rock. Ye got thin skin, hard bones. 'Cept your claws." Soap's fingers wander up your bare legs past your kneecaps. When they make it to your thigh, he grips it with his whole hand and squeezes lightly.
He's fascinated--amazed, even--by your body. It's almost enough to make you feel self-conscious, but everything you'd cover up is a fascination for them. Bumps, stretch marks, pock marks, folds, fat, stubble--you feel yourself tense up when hands wander to those parts of yourself you've learned to be ashamed of, but they don't react. Of course they don't, but still. It feels strange.
Gaz notices your discomfort. He keeps his grip light and loose on you, but his eyes linger on the flesh of your thigh in Soap's hands, the way your skin dimples under the pressure. "It's like a seal,” Gaz says.
"My thigh is like a seal?"
"Soft and blubbery,” Soap adds. "And seals are delicious." He leans down and pinches a bit of skin in his teeth.
You squirm a bit at the harmless little nip, but moreso at the way his hand slides a little too far up your thigh. You put your uninjured hand over his to stop it from going any higher.
Unfortunately, that just seems to draw his attention to what might be up there. His eyes flick up to your shorts. "What is it?"
"Nothing."
"Doesn't seem like nothing." He grabs the hem of your shorts to slide them higher.
You grab his hands. "Hey!"
He grins. "You're a bit twitchy.”
"That's not allowed," you tell him, face burning.
"Isn't it?" Gaz says. He loops his long fingers under your thigh and lifts it up as if to give Soap more room. "Whose rule is that?"
You quickly snap your thighs shut anyway, curling your legs into yourself as best you can. "My rule. Don't touch."
A low noise of frustration rumbles in Soap's chest. "Why do humans cover up so much?" His hands slide up your outer thighs, and he bends until his face is almost level with your stomach. His frown deepens as if this were the thing he was really curious about. "Just let me look for a second."
"Absolutely not."
"Waste of nice soft human skin," he mutters. "Hiding it all away."
“Let us in,” Gaz says.
“No.”
"Not even me?" he asks.
"No."
They both frown.
"Why not?” Gaz asks. “What are you keeping there?"
You huff. "It's my-- my reproductive things. Happy?"
"Your... reproductive things." Soap furrows his brow and turns his head to Gaz. "Reproductive like a fish?"
Gaz's fingers continue to squeeze your inner thighs in slow, deliberate motions. "No," he says after a beat. "Like a mammal."
"Ah. So?" Soap gives you a blank look. "Those are all up inside you then, aye? Nothin' to see."
He takes hold of your knee again. You immediately pull out of his grasp and turn to the side, sitting up on your knees this time as Gaz shifts his tail to accommodate you. "Nothing to see as far as you're concerned," you respond, curt.
Soap continues to leer at you, but his prodding is less insistent at your clear refusal. "Just tell us then. Where is it exactly? In the front? Or the back?"
You cross your arms. "None of your business."
"Don't humans mate for fun?" Soap asks.
“I didn't say that.”
"They doooo," Soap singsongs. He smiles and bares his teeth, the sharp points on his canines glinting in the light.
All the heat that had gone out of your cheeks comes rushing back in. " Do you?"
Soap grins again in that annoying way. "We do. Very fun. So what's the big deal?”
"We're not mating is what," you snap. You push yourself off of Gaz’s lap and stumble a bit, catching yourself with a splash into the deepening tide. "When are you taking me back home?"
Soap looks disappointed at the possibility of being deprived so suddenly of his new toy.
Gaz frowns too. "Now you're talking like you didn't enjoy yourself." He pushes himself up and follows you into the water, his fins cutting through it smoothly. "But a deal is a deal. We’ll take you back to shore. Once night falls, of course."
"But it's morning!"
"So it is." Gaz circles your legs, forming a crescent around you as he comes to a rest on his side in the shallow water. He smirks at you like he finds your confusion endearing in a tedious way. "Night will come again. We've got time until then."
"But the tide will come in," you remind them, casting a look back at the tiny little cove.
"It will,” Gaz agrees.
You don't like the way his smirk grows. Soap grins, too.
A slow realization that you're being toyed with comes over you. "What am I supposed to do, then?"
Gaz's smirk turns to a lazy little grin to match Soap’s. "Keep letting us entertain you.”
You hem and haw, but ultimately, when they pull you back into the shallow water with them, you don’t fight it. You’d rather conserve your energy.
Soap's hands join Gaz's, running up your strange human legs again. "We're going to keep her. Right, Gaz?"
"Of course," Gaz murmurs. The sea doesn't like to release its gifts. "Why would we bother leaving a catch intact without keeping it?"
...
part 1 / [part 2] / part 3 / part 4 / part 5
more Gaz / more Soap / more mer au / masterlist tag
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azrielbrainrot · 10 months ago
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I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Description: Whether in the solitude of his room or surrounded by family, all Azriel can think about is you. He would give anything to hold you one more time.
Warnings: Angst, Mourning, mention of suicide
Word Count: 3652
Notes: I don't even know where this came from. I was listening to sweet music by hozier and thought "what if I gave Azriel more trauma". The idea popped into my head and it basically wrote itself. I can't believe I have to say this but with this fandom I'm not risking it: this wasn't written to hate on Elain (or any other character) or incite anyone else to do so. Keep your stupid fights off my post, please and thank you. Hope you enjoy!
Part 2
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Another family dinner at the river house meant another night of watching everyone around him happy and in love. Azriel didn't think of himself as egotistical, would never think the love his brothers are experiencing is undeserved either, but it reminds him of a time where he was the only one in the Inner Circle with a partner, of when his brothers were the ones confessing to him how jealous they were of how he had found someone that loved him so much, of a time he never thought would have an end. It reminds him of you.
He looks himself in the mirror as he buttons up the navy shirt, trying to ignore the vacant room behind him. If you were here with him you would have been making jokes about his insistence on keeping the blue theme going in his clothes even though he swears he doesn't think too much about what to wear or his appearance in general.
On a good day, you'd be helping him with the small buttons right now, with shadows swirling around your legs and looking up at him the way you knew would take his breath away every time. On an even better day, he'd have your back pressed against his chest, his fingers inside your familiar heat, the other hand wrapped around your throat so you could watch him play with your body, panting his name and clawing at his arm, pleading with him to keep going, to let you touch him. He'd be late for an entirely different reason, not for getting held up talking to his spies, and then getting lost in his memories.
Sensing his thoughts, his meddling shadows move to his desk, filtering into the drawer they knew held a small velvet box. The dark wisps carefully picked it up and set it on top of the dark wood. Leaving it there and moving back to their original places around the darkened room, letting him decide for himself if he wanted to open it or not.
It had been a while since the last time he touched it, busy as he was these days. There were times he would sit and look at it every day, sometimes without even daring to open it and look inside. But there were also times where even the sight of the navy velvet would suddenly suffocate him with the reminder of your sweet scent, one he would never be able to smell again. It would make him hide the box at the back of his drawer, the back of his mind.
Over the last few years, his reactions to it had gotten milder, an unwilling acceptance of the fact that he would never see you again allowed him to reminisce on the happy memories you had together, even the sad ones, every little fight you had seemed so inconsequential now, he'd give anything to be able to have any moment with you back, to hear you say his name one more time.
He walks to the desk, only hesitating for a beat before grabbing and opening the box. His heart throbs as he stares at the ring sitting inside, thumbing at the empty space left behind by it on his finger instinctively. He had never liked rings, didn't like anything that brought attention to his hands or rubbed against the rough skin but the moment you slid the silver ring into his finger it felt right, he had never wanted to take it off. Azriel would wear a ring on each finger if it showed the world he was yours.
He wore the ring for an entire decade after you died, even after all hope that you could still be alive had left him, he couldn't bring himself to let go of it, to let go of you. His mother had been the one to tell him he needed to stop wearing it, that holding onto it, onto the past would only bring him more heartache. He could still hear her begging him with tears in her eyes, not bearing to see her son in such a state, but he had only actually taken it off when Rhys was taken by Amarantha.
He had thrown the ring into the Sidra that night. He's not sure if it had been anger, frustration or simply hopelessness that drove him to it in that moment. He was tired of not being able to protect anyone, tired of losing his people, the people he never thought he would even find when he was just a boy sitting in a dark humid cell. It must have been that boy's pain, still inside him, that drove him to act like that. If it hadn't been for his shadows immediately flying after it he would have lost it, wouldn't have this reminder of a happy time sitting in front of him right now, it had helped him ground himself more than once during the years following that night. His shadows had saved him from himself once again.
He closes the box gently, rubbing at the smooth texture of the velvet, trying not to let himself get lost in your memory and the bitterness that followed at the injustice of it all. Your marriage had only lasted a little over a decade, he's had to live with your ghost for much longer than that now. Still, he knows he won't forget that time no matter how many more years he lives, and, even if it's another five centuries, he knows he'll still wish he had had the chance to spend them all with you.
Some of the pain has dulled, most days at least, but the guilt still eats at him. He should have known something was going to happen, should have reached you sooner, should have told someone to go with you, should have gone himself, should have been the one to die in your place. The millions of possibilities will likely invade his brain until his last breath, after which he'll finally be able to see you again. That was another thought that had consumed him far too often in the beginning. If it wasn't for his mother, his brothers and Mor, if it weren't for the pain it would cause them, he would have taken Truth Teller to his neck just for the chance to see you one more time.
Azriel? His wings go rigid and he tightens his hold on the box at the sudden intrusion. He tries to push his thoughts as far back into his mind as he can before lowering his mental shields, almost letting out a sigh of relief at finding them in place, hoping his brother couldn't get a glimpse of his thoughts. He hands the box to his shadows so they can safely place it back inside his drawer. Are you still coming, brother?
Yes. He moves back to the mirror and finishes buttoning his shirt while trying to keep his tone as nonchalant as possible. However, the hesitation on the other side tells him Rhys sensed exactly what was holding him up in his room, he knows him better than anyone after all.
Hurry then. We're all waiting for you. Azriel closes his walls as soon as he feels his brother's absence in his mind. He knows they miss you too. They had welcomed you with open arms and considered you part of the family after their marriage. Everyone in the Inner Circle took a big hit when you went missing. He will never forget Cassian's face when he arrived to see Azriel kneeling down in a pool of your blood, with no body to be found. His brother wore his heart on his sleeve and it had shattered that night. There were countless sleepless nights for everyone following that moment.
They all threw themselves at finding you in any way they could. There was enough blood on the floor to tell them you had died but none of them wanted to believe it. Azriel talked to every single one of his spies multiple times, ordering them to track every movement in their respective areas. Rhys sent letters to every ally he had and then joined Cassian and Mor in searching every corner of Prythian personally. Even Amren, ever the logical emotionless one, searched for you with every means she could, contacting friends the spymaster didn't even know existed. But, one by one, they all had to accept the truth, Azriel ending up being the most hesitant to.
He had long since killed the attackers, putting them through as much pain as possible for as long as he could keep them alive, making them regret ever touching you. But that didn't help with the gaping hole in his chest, nothing helped. They didn't know how to find your body either. Rhys looked through every corner of their minds and only found them leaving you behind, bleeding on the cold ground.
Rhys refused to show him the memory, no matter how much he begged him to let him see you one more time. Now he knows his brother was just trying to protect him, not wanting that to be Azriel's last memory of you, with the amount of blood left behind he knew you couldn't have been in good shape, but at the time he lashed out at his brother like he had never done before, probably would have killed him in blind rage if it hadn't been for Cassian trying to hold him back and if Rhys wasn't Rhys. Thinking back he should have thanked him instead, for holding onto such a painful memory and keeping it to himself so no one else had to suffer from it.
Even if he couldn't see you again, he still wishes that he had your body to bury at least. Azriel doesn't know how the Mother could be so cruel as to not only let you die so soon, so painfully without at least letting him find your body so he could put you to rest next to your parents' graves. It would also give him a place to talk to you, to feel as close to you as possible.
The pain almost came back in full when Rhysand first told him about Feyre. Jealousy had reared its ugly head at the fondness in his brother's gaze, the slight tint to his cheeks at just saying her name. He was happy for Rhys, especially after everything he'd been through, but that happiness couldn't hold a candle to the pain he felt. He remembers the night he confided in his brothers about the lovely female he had met, how she had told him she loved him, it had been much like that one.
To make matters worse, the first thing he remembered when Rhys told him about his mate was a stupid bet the two of you had made - you had been adamant that Cassian, as sweet as he is, would be the next to get married, Azriel had voted for Rhys, one of his many conquests were bound to work out one day. He won and yet he didn't feel victorious at all. He couldn't even tell you of your loss, see how pouty you get when it happens, ever the sore loser. Didn't even remember the prize but there was no way for you to give it to him now either way. What hurt the most was that he couldn't even tell you his brother had found his mate. These were the best news in over a century and he just wanted to share them with you, wanted to share everything with you.
He takes another look at the mirror with a small sigh, straightening his wings and making sure his face doesn't give anything away before calling to his shadows. He feels them wrap around him slowly, giving him some comfort before taking him directly to the river house.
“Almost thought you weren't coming.” He was still half covered in shadows when he heard Cassian's voice. Everyone was standing around talking to each other, waiting on him. The guilt was tugging at his heart strings again. Why would he ever feel like he needed more than a family that loved him? Who was he to think this wasn't enough for him? It was something he could only dream of when he was younger.
“He's here now. That's all that matters,” the smile Feyre gave him was warmer than usual and her hand lingered on his shoulder for a second too long. Azriel looks over to Rhys, finding him already looking at him, studying his face. He had told his mate of whatever he sensed in his mind then. He hoped neither of them brought it up at least, now or later. What good would admit he misses his dead wife do? No one can bring you back to him.
“Finally. I'm starving.” Cassian clapped his shoulder as he passed by him on the way to the already set table, sitting down immediately. Everyone followed in his footsteps, greeting Azriel and finding their seats. Seems he really had kept them waiting.
Conversation picked back up naturally and he let himself fall into the usual rhythm of these dinners, letting his body relax around his family, forgetting about his old life for the moment. He walked over to the already set table and took his seat next to Elain, as it usually was these days. The seating arrangements had moved around a bit over the last years to accommodate not only the new additions to their little circle but also the relationships in them. He used to always sit next to Cassian but now had given the seat up to his beautiful mate. It left him next to Elain most times since they were the only single fae at the table.
Elain gave him a soft smile as he sat down and he nodded at her with a smile of his own. They had been getting closer ever since she was turned to fae and started living in Velaris. Her quiet nature quickly drew him to her, feeling at ease almost immediately with the middle Archeron sister. But he had to have been blind not to see the way she looked at him, not to notice the enamored smile she gave him.
Sometimes he let himself wonder if things could work between them. She had a mate but it was clearer with each passing day that she didn't feel anything for the male tied to her. It was also obvious how well Azriel and Elain got along, fitting into each other's lives almost seamlessly. He didn't love her but couldn't say seeing himself fall for the lovely female was such a far-fetched idea. She was a beautiful and kind fae, loving her would probably be as easy as breathing.
When everyone had been made aware of the mating bonds, he had even considered if the Mother had made a mistake. His two brothers had ended up with two of the sisters after all. Now he can see he was just desperate for a bond like theirs. In truth, he wouldn't even know what he would have done if Elain had truly been his mate. Would he finally put you behind him? Would he have thrown the ring away again, for good this time? He knows he couldn't bring himself to even with the power of a mating bond. You were etched deep into his skin just like the bargain marks inked into his shoulders.
As the dinner moved on and they made their way to the sofas in the sitting room, his family was already more than lively. Mor had busted out one of Rhysand's old wine bottles, setting the mood for the rest of the night. Azriel had completely relaxed by then, letting himself enjoy their company, his shadows retreating almost completely around the room. Finally having some reprieve from the particularly insistent thoughts that were plaguing his mind today.
Cassian was telling a story he had heard a thousand times now but he still laughed along with everyone else. Listening to Cass tell the story so many times wouldn't make the fact that he had flown straight into a river any less funny. Azriel even remembered the following part, the one Cass doesn't include in the story which was after they pulled him out and he had gotten sick for a week, making him miss practice and lose every spar with him and Rhys for the next months.
Even old stories had a new life with new people around, it was the first time the sisters heard this one, judging by the slight tint to Nesta's cheeks as she laughed at her mate and how hard Feyre was clutching at Rhys' arm to ground herself. Even Elain was laughing hard enough that her body was shaking. Her laugh was soft and melodic, a lovely sound really, but it suddenly opened a familiar pit in his stomach. It reminded him of you. She wasn't quite as loud and her eyes didn't immediately water like yours but the way she raised her hand to her face was similar. And just like that the illusion of happiness he had created shattered.
She was nothing like you but he still found you in every thing she did, in everything anyone did. He couldn't go to half of the city's bakeries and shops without thinking of you and every moment you spent there. He had even changed rooms in every one of Rhysand's houses, not bearing to sleep in the same bed you had held him in. Everyone in the Inner Circle had learned to avoid certain topics, certain stories in fear they would remind him of you. Even your name was rarely mentioned unless he did so first or strictly necessary. Every thought of getting over you was nothing more than wishful thinking. It was like his entire soul was begging him to go to you, but you weren't anywhere in this world.
This had to be one of the worst parts of his routine lately, having to take extra care to school his features when spending time with his brothers and their mates. If his face showed any sign of how much he missed you, how much he wished he could hug you to him just like they can do with them, they would immediately look at him with pain in their eyes, pain for what he lost and will never get back.
It had taken too long to get used to how differently they treated him after what happened. He had to start a fight to get them to stop treating him like he could break at any second when it was the truth. They knew it as well as he did, but they also knew that they had to let Azriel mourn in his own way, that there was nothing they could do besides stay by his side.
You weren't mates - maybe the pain he feels would never compare to what his brothers would go through if their mates ever met the same fate as you - but that had never mattered to him. His soul sang for you the same way he sang for his shadows, you were written into his very being just like they were. And, most importantly, there wasn't a single fiber in his body that wanted to live without you.
Even a mate could never erase you from his memory, even if you had been alive. He doubts if a mating bond had snapped between you two at the time, you would have gotten any deeper into him than you already were. He can't imagine loving you, wanting you more than he already did was possible.
He felt his shadows move to him, almost sending them away thinking they were coming to comfort him again, hiding him from the world as usual. Their urgency gave them away, and by the way Rhysand's body tensed across from him he also had noticed something amiss.
“What happened?” The High Lord's voice cut through the atmosphere immediately, everyone looked to him for an explanation and got ready for any possibility. His entire body stood still when his shadows told him they felt someone winnowing into the townhouse.
“Someone's in the townhouse,” he stood up as he spoke, sending some of his shadows out to find out as much as they could and the rest around Velaris to check if there were any other disturbances.
“Who could get past the wards?” He felt a shield around them, Rhys had likely set it up around his house. Cassian's siphons were flickering red as they all prepared for what could come next. Velaris was more than well protected, especially after the attacks before the war, but the High Lord's homes were nearly impossible to get into uninvited, Azriel himself had helped make sure of it.
“I don't know,” he held onto Truth Teller as he waited for his shadows or his High Lord and Lady to find something. His shadows were being strangely lax about the whole situation, maybe this was someone who knew of a way to go around his gift, keep them distracted.
It took longer than usual to receive a response from them, making him and everyone around him more concerned by the second. By now everyone was donning a sword or weapon of some sort, only waiting on more information before splitting up to keep Velaris safe and find the intruders.
When his shadows finally appeared they wasted no time rushing to his ear, at last sensing his urgency in the matter. Their answer was one nothing could have prepared him for, his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest.
His shadows came back carrying a once familiar tune. They came back singing your name.
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kiiwiigii · 1 year ago
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Dirty Books
Jasper x Fem!Reader
Summary: Your scent has been driving Jasper crazy from day one. After catching you reading a rather interesting book, your scent finally makes his self-control go out the window.
Warnings:
NSFW 18+
SMUT
Oral (F Receiving)
Virginity
Scent kink
Word Count: 1.4k+
Requested?: For Kinktober!
Possessivr and rough scent kink with jasper mayhaps 🫣
A/N: I'm not sure if this really counts as scent kink but… I tried.
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-Jasper-
She was sitting in the reading chair in the corner of her room when he slipped silently through her open window. They would have a talk about that later, but for now, he took in the sight of her, reading and clenching her thighs, her hips wiggling just the slightest. She had that look of concentration that screamed that she was reading something rather dirty. 
The fact that she could even act so normally after everything that happened with Victoria baffled him.  
"Y/N." 
She jumped nearly a foot out of the chair, clutching the book to her chest. She was turning red. 
"Jasper!" 
He ignored her and nicked the book from her hands before she could even blink, raising his eyebrows at the page she had been reading. He looked up at her from under his lashes, a smirk on his face. 
"Just what have ya been reading, darlin'?" 
She blushed, standing up quickly to snatch the book back, and he let her. Her eyes darted down to the pages and then back up to him before she could stop herself. He could picture the wheels turning in her head, her thoughts and emotions a jumbled mess. Although one emotion stood out among the rest: lust.
"Noth-nothing." 
"It didn't look like nothin'." 
The scent of her arousal only deepened, and Jasper tensed, fighting against his instincts to devour her on sight. 
He yearned to bury his face somewhere between her thighs and drown himself in her scent, to feel her quiver under his tongue and soft kisses. 
"Jasper?" 
Jasper took a deep breath, trying to calm himself yet again. That was a mistake. She smelled too good, and he felt his self-control snap. 
He was on his knees in front of her before he could think, his hands wrapped firmly around her knees and pushing her gently back into the chair.
"Jasper-" Y/N gasped as he opened her legs and pressed his face into her stomach, breathing her in. 
He groaned against her skin as her arousal flooded his senses even more. It was overwhelming, practically choking him. 
And there would be no one to hold him back this time. Unless, of course, Y/N said no. But Jasper had a hunch that she wouldn't. 
She was leaning back into the chair, her fingers in his hair. She wasn't trying to pull away from him. Y/N seemed to be frozen in shock, her chest heaving as she remained still.
He would have laughed if he could have found the breath. 
"Ya smell like ya need me, darlin'." 
He let out a sigh as he nipped at her inner thigh. Her nails dug into his scalp as she jumped, and he couldn't help but hide a smirk as he nipped a little closer to her heated center. 
"Jasper," she moaned softly, and he felt the wave of desire that rolled through her body. 
He looked up at her, eyes burning. 
"If you don't want this, tell me now." He demanded. 
Y/N shook her head almost violently. 
"Please." She whimpered. 
That was all he needed to hear. 
Jasper closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, suddenly very happy that she was wearing a skirt. It made everything so much easier.
"Let's put your legs on either side of the chair, darlin'."
He helped her get into position, drinking in her nearly exposed pussy, already wet and glistening through the fabric of her lacy panties.
Those panties really needed to go, but all in due time.
He pressed his lips to the inside of her thigh, grazing his teeth against her skin, and he heard her intake of breath. He moved his hands up under her thighs, holding her steady as he buried his face against her. 
She gasped, a small sound that was accompanied by a low moan as his tongue slid against her inner thigh. He used his nose to push her panties away, slowly licking his way to her pussy and clit. 
Her back arched as she pressed herself into his face, her fingers digging into his scalp and her lips parted.
Shrle was hot and tight, pulsing around his tongue. He could hear her heart pounding, and he could almost taste her blood as it raced through her veins. 
"Fuck." He groaned. "You taste like heaven." 
"Jasper." Y/N whimpered. 
"I'm not letting you go until I've had my fill, Y/N" He looked back up her, eyes darkening until they were nearly black. "You are mine."
His fingers dug into her thighs as he pulled her pussy to his mouth, sucking on her clit and sliding his tongue inside of her again and again as she began to grind against his face. 
He licked and sucked at her, fucking her with his tongue until he felt her legs begin to shake in his hands. 
"Jasper, I'm gonna-" she panted, her breath hitching as her breathing grew heavier, faster.
She went tense for a second, her body shuddering and her fingers twisting in his hair. He could feel her heat against his face, and it brought in another wave of desire. 
He pulled back, feeling her body tremble as she tried to regain control over her breathing and attempting to close her legs, but he wouldn't let her.
"I- what?" She panted. 
"I can smell you." He murmured, leaning forward until their lips were barely brushing. "And it's been driving me crazy ever since I met you." 
"Jasper," she groaned as he pressed her lips to his, sliding his cool tongue into her mouth. 
Y/N's hips bucked as she whimpered. 
"Keep your legs open for me, darlin'."
He smiled against her lips as she obeyed. She even went so far as to open them a little wider, her legs still on the arms of the chair and her skirt sliding further up her hips. 
He nipped at her bottom lip as he slid a hand beneath her panties and pushed his fingers into her. 
"Jasper." She gasped. 
He moved his fingers in slow precision, pumping them in and out of her as she whimpered. He was keeping her on edge, and a sadistic part of him was enjoying it. 
She was close. He could feel it when she started to tighten yet again. 
He pulled his fingers out of her, and she let out a low whine at the loss. Jasper trailed his lips across her cheek and up to her ear. He whispered to her, his voice low and raspy  
"I want ya, darlin'." 
"Jasper…" she whimpered. 
 Fuck. He loved how she said his name. 
He pulled back, making eye contact with her. 
"Tell me ya want me."
Y/N blinked dazedly, her eyes hooded and glazed with lust. Her arms slipped around his neck, pulling him back to her until she was kissing him again.
"I want you," she gasped, her tongue sliding across his lips. "I want you to fuck me, Jasper. I want your cock fucking me deep and hard."
"Fuck."
With a groan, Jasper ripped her panties, barely acknowledging her indignant gasp before he kissed her again. He got rid of his jeans and underclothes quickly, palming his length before he entered her without any further warning. 
Y/N let out a pained groan against his lips, pulling back momentarily to rest her forehead against his.
Her tightness was almost painful, and he had to grit his teeth to keep from crying out. He pushed himself in inch by inch, pausing only when he was fully inside of her. He could feel her slippery heat around him.
He had hurt her. He heard another pained intake of breath as she gritted her teeth and could smell the blood from between her legs. 
Despite that, he started to rock his hips, slowly at first and then faster and harder. Y/N responded by wrapping her legs around his waist, her ankles hooking behind his back. He could feel her nails scraping against his skin, and he knew that she was close. 
He could feel her muscles tremble, her whole body shaking as she came. It was so hot, he could feel her juices coating him as he moved. And then he was gone too, his orgasm crashing over him like a wave. 
He collapsed against her, his breathing ragged. He could still hear her soft moaning, could still feel her contract around him as she came. 
They lay there like that for a while, until Jasper moved, picking her up without slipping out of her. Y/N gasped, flinging her arms around him and her pussy tightening around his already hard-again cock. 
"Jasp-" 
He cut her off with a kiss, rocking his hips into her gently. Y/N moaned, her whole body trembling. He kissed his way back to her jaw and neck, nibbling at her pulse point. 
"I think a move to the bed is in order, darlin'." 
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{Kinktober}  // {Masterlist}
Taglist:  @alecvolturi @alecvolturiswifeforever @belladonna-xox  @birdiebeesblog @bunbunbl0gs @hyperuseless @jana-jaeynneee @itsmytimetoodream @lack-lust-3r @lucansmina @pawspurpaw @pooka167 @rosedpetal @targaryenmoony @twilightlover2007
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junkissed · 1 year ago
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bedroom exclusive
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member — actor bf!jun x f reader  genre — smut, (playful) angst, fluff word count — 3.9k  synopsis — seeing your boyfriend on tv kissing another girl definitely doesn't feel good, but he's got plenty of time to make it up to you. and he plans on letting you know that you're the only one on his mind.  smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, kissing, fingering, jun likes to be a tease, reader likes to be a brat, some jealousy but it's (mostly) pretend, all my fics have disgustingly happy endings i can't help it sorry notes — requested by @miwayu v this idea has been sitting in my inbox for 783 years but i have finally finished it !! big thanks to @onlymingyus for proofreading. i hope you enjoy!  
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"well, how come you never kiss me on the couch like that?"
jun crosses his arms with a huff. "first of all, yes i do, and second of all, it's not like the scene was my idea! i didn't write the script!"
he's right about everything, but you still can't help but feel upset. no, not upset: you have to admit to yourself that you're a little... jealous. jealous that everybody gets to see how your jun kisses someone, how he holds someone, how he closes his eyes and wraps his hands around and how he touches someone. it's exactly what he looks like when he's doing all of that with you, so watching your boyfriend do all of those things with someone who isn't you is jarring, to say the least. but at the end of the day you know it's acting, and that after the cameras are turned off and the staff goes home for the night, he's doing all of that for real with you and only you. but even though you're not really angry with him, you still feel like pouting.
you stay quiet, trying to think of something to say, but jun speaks. "baby, if it really has you so worked up, then why don't i just show you?"
his question catches you off guard, and you look over at him in suspicion. "show me what?"
but as soon as the question leaves your lips, jun is putting his arms around you and flipping you down onto the couch. everything happens so fast that you barely comprehend what's happening until your back is flat against the cushions and he's positioning himself on top of you, caging you in with his arms and his legs straddling either side of your hips. your heart races when you look up and see the familiar look in his eyes as he holds himself above you. 
you don't try to hide the whine that escapes you, and jun grins in satisfaction as he leans down, his face hovering just centimeters above yours. "show you what it's like to be under me, darling. no cameras, just you and me."
your eyebrows knit into a frown and you turn your cheek to the side, away from him.
he sighs, but your refusal just makes him even more determined to convince you otherwise. "come on, baby, don't act like that. it isn't real. this is real, and i know you know the difference."
he presses his lips against your neck, feeling the way your pulse jumps beneath your skin as he gently leaves a trail of kisses down your throat. your curiosity gets the better of you and you turn your head back to look at him, only to find him staring into your eyes, his fixed gaze never leaving you as he works his way across your neck. 
the familiar feeling of his large hands roaming your body makes your skin warm, and you do your best to ignore the traitorous rush of slick between your legs. you can only pretend to be mad for so long before you give in, and it's beginning to seem easier and easier with every move he makes, working you up in ways only he knows how. he knows your body like the back of his hand, knows exactly which buttons to press, knows exactly what to do to get you begging and pleading for more. 
but still you have the urge to fight him, not wanting to let him have the satisfaction of your pleasure just yet. "i don't know. it looked pretty real to me," you tease him.
he kisses a sensitive spot on your neck and sucks on it a little, gentle enough not to leave any marks but still more than enough to make you stifle a gasp. 
"are you being a brat on purpose, or are you really mad?" he asks, his voice a touch softer than before. he hopes you're not seriously upset, and he knows you like to make jokes, but if you're really hurt then maybe he needs to switch gears.
"both," you reply with a pout, but you lift one hand to run your fingers through his hair, a quiet reassurance that you're alright. "i'm really mad that you're not inside me yet."
his eyes light up, and he begins to suck at the spot on your neck harder, this time enough to bruise. "well, brats don't always get what they want right away," he says, and you shiver as his teeth graze over your skin. "right now i wanna take my time with you. so are you going to behave and let me do that, or are you going to keep acting like a brat and make me leave you with nothing?"
"i think you'll fuck me no matter what i act like," you say, and your hand trails down his stomach to feel where his cock strains against his pants, just as you suspected. he may know all your body's secrets, but you know just as much, if not more, about his. "because you love me too much. and you like this too much."
"but this isn't about me, baby," he hums, and the vibrations against your skin almost make you moan. "what i like doesn't matter right now. what matters is you deciding whether you're gonna keep playing these games, or if you're gonna let me fuck all those doubts out of your pretty head once and for all. it's your choice, sweetheart."
his trail of kisses moves back up your neck, but his lips stop short at your chin, clearly waiting for you to answer.
you pretend to think it over, narrowing your eyes in pretend thought, still refusing to give him the response he wants.
"why are you making this harder for yourself, baby? you know i love you," he whispers, his eyes darting back and forth between yours. "you have nothing to be mad about, because look where i am right now. i'm not with anybody else but you, and i don't want to be with anybody else but you. so drop the act, honey. i dropped mine."
you sigh out, both your hands finally coming to rest on the back of his neck. your fingers weave into his hair, twirling his locks between your fingertips until you can't take it anymore, breaking out into a smile that gives him the cue he was waiting for.
he leans down and finally pushes his mouth against yours, and your eyes flutter shut, your entire body relaxing at the familiar feeling. his nose presses against your cheek, his lips parted slightly as his hands hold the back of your neck, tangling in your hair splayed out across the couch. you let out a shaky breath and he swallows it, pushing his lips deeper into yours. 
his mouth moves slowly but his kisses are anything but gentle. his tongue prods at your upper lip and you welcome him, matching his pace and pulling him down towards you so you can wrap your arms around him to hold him tighter against your chest. 
he shifts above you, his knees straddling either side of you, and you can feel how hard he is. the image of him doing exactly this for millions of viewers flashes in your head, but any doubt is pushed out of your mind when he starts grinding his hips against your leg, groaning into your kiss. he might even be needier than you are right now, but you can't help teasing him just once more.
"is this bringing back fond memories?" you break away from his mouth to say, breathing heavily.
"shut up," he bites back, then exhales sharply. his voice is low when he speaks again. "the day we filmed that scene, all i could think about was you. it was the day we were supposed to have dinner at your parents' house, but i made you lie about being sick so we could stay home and i could fuck you in every room in the house instead. i didn't mention it at the time because i thought it'd kill the mood, but trust me when i say the only memories i have of that day are about you."
air catches in your throat and you glance up at him, but the look in his eyes is serious. he didn't tell you much about his schedules and  exactly which scenes he was filming on which day, so there was no way to tell what was happening on set unless you were there personally. you remember this particular day well— more accurately, you remember the days afterward that you'd walked with a limp.
"i thought you did it because you didn't want to have to eat my mom's overcooked chicken again," you respond, trying to cover your surprise with a breathless laugh.
"i did it because i wouldn't have been able to sit at that table and not think about fucking you on top of it," he says, and you can feel the heat creeping into your cheeks at the thought. "now, stop bringing it up, or i'll have to fuck that bratty attitude out of you."
"what if i want you to, though?" you retort. "maybe i need more convincing."
his nostrils flare, and he pushes his mouth against yours once more, drinking in the desperate sounds that leave your lips. "we both know you're a liar, but i'd still be happy to change your mind."
one of his hands trails down your chest, then your stomach, before finally stopping just below your belly button. you're sure he must be able to feel the heat radiating from between your legs, but he doesn't move, just rests his hand on top of your pants.
he stays still for a moment, and the way his hand hovers unpredictably makes your heart race, waiting for him to do something. suddenly he cups your clothed pussy without warning, and you moan out his name, the sound muffled by his lips as he kisses you harder. he relishes in the way your hips buck up against his hand.
he's in love with how you're already so desperate after just a few kisses, but he isn't faring any better himself; the weight of his cock aches, straining against his pants and against the side of your leg. it's almost embarrassing how you're both so needy for each other, yet he couldn't even begin to imagine anything hotter than this moment here with you.
maybe the directors had been onto something with those scenes. if anything, it just gives him more material to do with you. his mind wanders, running through each scene in his head and picturing it differently. kissing you on the kitchen counter, kissing you on the table, kissing you against the wall, kissing you on the bed, kissing you in the park, kissing you in the rain… so many possibilities, and he can't wait to try every single one with you.
it's not until you break apart from him, whimpered words tumbling out of your mouth as you plead with him to touch you, that he comes back to reality. those kisses can wait for another time. 
he plants a quick kiss on your upper lip before slipping his hand underneath the waistband of your pants. you exhale a sigh of relief at the feeling of his fingers on you, pushing your pants down your hips and kicking them away to give him better access.
"you're so wet already, baby," jun hums, swiping his finger over your dripping entrance and grinning when you shiver. "you like kissing me this much, huh?"
you manage to shake your head. "i like knowing you think about me when you're supposed to be kissing someone else," you breathe.
"i'm always thinking about you, sweetheart."
just like his mouth, his fingers start out gentle, running up and down through your folds and rubbing tiny circles around your clit. the warmth of his hand mixes with the warmth between your legs, and a shiver runs down your spine, already feeling the tension building in your stomach.
but soon it becomes not enough and you're just about to start begging him for more, but without you even having to ask he pushes the tip of his index finger into your pussy.
"fuck…" you moan against his lips, struggling to catch your breath. "i could cum just from that, jun, please—"
"mm, should i let you? or should i make you wait, from all this attitude you've been giving me?" he asks, pushing his finger deeper into you.
you can't even give him an answer, but he must decide to let you off easy this time, because he slides another finger into you. you moan, pulling his head closer to kiss him as his fingers start to move faster.
your eyes are squeezed so tightly shut it makes you dizzy, and you can feel your teeth knocking against jun's, but you're so lost you barely notice it.
he adds a third finger and instantly you feel yourself falling into the pleasure, clenching around him.
you frantically tear your lips from his, moaning and panting and gasping for breath as your high overtakes every part of your body. a rush of wetness pours from you, gushing out over his fingers as he continues to thrust them in and out of you, the added pressure of his thumb on your clit prolonging your orgasm. 
it takes a few moments but finally you come back down to earth, the feeling of the couch cushions under your back reminding you where you are and what you're doing. jun lays on top of you, his fingers still buried in your cunt and his mouth leaving kisses all over your face as you wait for your breath to return to you.
with a content sigh you push on his shoulder to make him sit up, and he kisses you once more before he leans away.
"are you comfortable?" he asks, and you look up at him in confusion at the question.
"very comfortable after that," you tell him with a giggle, propping yourself up on your elbows. "but otherwise yes. why?"
he smiles. "just wondering if you wanted to move to the bed. or the floor, if you feel like."
you purse your lips, giving him a pout. "i thought you said you were gonna fuck me on the couch?"
"clearly you still have the energy to be a brat, so my work here isn't done yet," he grins. "couch it is, then."
he pulls his shirt off in one quick motion before reaching down for your clothes, but you barely even notice him lifting your arms to slide you out of your shirt.
you've seen him shirtless hundreds of times by now, but he never fails to take your breath away. it's been too long since you've had a moment to stare like this anyway so you take full advantage of the opportunity, your gaze fixated on the sight of his bare chest and the way his muscles flex with movement. have his arms gotten bigger? they've definitely gotten bigger.
"like what you see?" he laughs when he notices you watching him, and you smack his arm playfully. he's corny, but you couldn't love him more.
"i do. and i'm not afraid to admit it."
"still mad you're not the only one who gets to see it?" he teases.
"mm, a little," you exhale. "but i'm the only one who can see it every day, in person, whenever i want. so at the end of the day it doesn't really matter what they see, does it?"
he stands up and pushes his pants down, a smile playing on his lips. "that's my good girl."
you can't help but continue to ogle him as he strips, the outline of his cock against his briefs so defined you can practically taste it.
"do you want to be on top, or me?" he asks, and your eyes belatedly move back up to his face.
"i thought you were gonna fuck the brat out of me, junnie," you tease him playfully. "how can you do that if i'm on top?"
he scoffs. "last time i ever offer you a choice, then. maybe i should just fuck your mouth instead, since you seem to think you're getting your way here."
"you say that like it's a bad thing," you laugh. "like i don't beg you to let me suck you off, like, twice a day."
"well, unlucky for you, that's not happening today," he says, and finally pushes his underwear down. his cock springs free and you groan, any argument you had instantly dying on your lips at the sight.
you know the look of lust on your face is blatantly obvious, but you couldn't care less. not when your boyfriend's gorgeous cock is mere inches away, yours and yours alone to see. it finally sinks in that all the scenes from his drama were just pretend sex, while you're having real sex. and boy, does it make your stomach flutter.
jun knows you all too well, knows how you get when you're around him and how you lose all control at just the sight of him naked. and he adores it. being naked in front of cameras and crew members made him shy, but being naked in front of you made him the proudest man in the world. the way you look at him as if he's the only person you've ever seen; he can practically see the stars in your eyes, and that alone is worth more than billions of strangers seeing him on a screen.
he drinks in every second of your reactions. the way your breath stutters when he leans over to wrap one of your legs around his waist, the way you shiver when he runs his hand along your thigh and the way your hands immediately find their way to his head as you try to pull him down towards you.
he can tell in the way your attitude has changed that you aren't mad (or even pretend-mad) at him anymore, and he takes this as his sign to bend down and kiss you again. 
"do you believe me now?" he whispers, his warm cheek pressed against yours. you close your eyes and feel the vibrations from his voice against your face, your grip on his hair tightening as you hold him as close as you possibly can.
"believe what?" you ask softly, though you already know what he's referring to.
jun hums. "that you're the only one i love."
"i never doubted that for a second."
he pushes his lips against yours and you swallow him, the both of you growing more desperate and more restless as he grinds his hips against yours.
you kiss him until you can't anymore, leaning your neck back against the couch seat with a breathless moan.
he moves his lips downwards, momentarily stopping between your breasts before he quickly sits back on his heels, angling his cock between your legs with practiced ease. 
it takes seconds for him to slide into you, a whine stuck in your throat at the pulsing feeling inside you. he pulls his hips back slowly, nearly slipping out before he pounds back into you. 
your hands yank him down again and he falls flat against your chest, quickly finding the best position to hold you as he continues to thrust into you.
his hands sit beside your head, cupping your cheeks as he pants and gasps and groans your name.
sweat-drenched pieces of jun's hair dangle above your face, but the only thing you see is the way he looks at you, his intense gaze communicating things far beyond words.
"jun…" you manage, everything else failing you as you melt into his touch. your body is on fire, there's so much you want to say and do but your head is spinning.
jun pulls you into another deep kiss and you let your eyes fall shut, letting him take over, mouths moving together so you can't tell where he ends and you begin.
"fuck, you're so perfect," he curses, his thrusts growing faster. "so beautiful."
"all mine, junnie," you moan, the only words you can remember. you're barely thinking about what leaves your mouth but you know exactly what you want to say, 
"i know, baby. i'm all yours," he pants, desperately kissing you anywhere his lips will reach. "nobody else's. yours."
it doesn't take much longer for the knot in your stomach to tighten until you can't hold back anymore. "so close, jun, please, 'm gonna cum," you choke out.
"just wait for me baby, just hold on," he pleads, and he shifts his hips just slightly to fuck into you at a different angle.
all it takes is just the way you say his name, the way you look up at him with lips swollen from his kisses, the way your brows knit together in concentration as you try your best to hold back your orgasm for him. the way he's so fervently yours, and he doesn't have to act or pretend or be anything less than a hundred percent genuine about the way he loves you and you love him.
your whole body shudders as you cum, spasming around him until it triggers his own orgasm and he lets go with a groan. his hips jerk as warmth floods your abdomen, and it seems like it goes on forever as he shivers in sensitivity.
he exhales, and you kiss his cheek gently as you feel him breathe against your chest.
after a minute he shifts his arms around you, still holding you as he sits upright and pulls you onto his lap, his cock still inside of you.
your head falls into the crook of his neck with a sigh, thoroughly spent. there's plenty of things you probably should be doing now, but it feels so nice to just sit and rest, feeling full and satisfied.
"i would say that was much more fun than filming for the show," jun says finally with a little giggle.
you hum, cheek still resting against his shoulder. "enough about the show. i have the real thing right here."
he grins. "so you admit you're not mad at me."
"how could i ever be mad at you, when you fuck me like that?"
"i know," he says proudly. "i just wanted to hear you say it. i'm a really good actor, aren't i?"
collecting the last of your strength, you sit back and pretend to glare at him, to which he responds with another giggle and a kiss to your nose.
"whatever," you tell him as he tucks a piece of your hair out of your face. "take me to shower and show me more of those scenes, and then i'll believe you."
but he's already standing up, keeping hold of your legs wrapped around his waist as he carries you down the hall. "oh, with pleasure."
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dotster001 · 10 months ago
Text
When You Escape Him; Diasomnia
Summary: Yandere Diasomnia x gn!reader. He adopts a child that looks like the two of you. You run to give you both a chance at life. You never expected him to find you.
A/N: so, turns out the burnout was actually sleep deprivation. Who knew!
Heartslaybul Savannaclaw Octavinelle Scarabia Pomefiore Ignihyde Non NRC Staff
CW: major spoiler under the cut, but it does need a content warning, so if you want to see it, it's there, if not, skip straight to Mal's picture. yandere stuff, capture, forced sleep, implied past forced sleep, threats to innocents, Lilia is a shit in 3/4 of these,blood, implied previous injury, implied minor character death
Spoiler Content Warning: reader dies in Sebek 's part.
Three years into your relationship, he had come home and placed a baby in your arms.
"They were left in a box, all alone. And, well, he looks like if the two of us had a child," he sheepishly stared at the ground. "I just, I just figured it must be a gift from the seven."
You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to tie himself to you through this boy. He looked just like him, and you were disgusted and scared.
Until he opened his eyes for the first time, and you found yourself staring into your own.
And you knew. You had to give this child the opportunity for a better life. A life without him.
In the end, your son did the opposite of what he had intended. And the first moment you could, the two of you had escaped.
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Malleus had done something. Something unnatural. You'd at first kind of believed him. But the horns had started growing in on your son. This was your and Malleus' biological child. As unnatural and impossible as it was, you had no doubt.
The woman who ran the safe house had told you to put him up for adoption. She'd smiled sympathetically, but she told you in no uncertain terms that this child would damn everyone there. So either the child had to go, or you'd both have to go. She gave you until the next morning to leave. She'd send you with food and money, but you couldn't stay there. 
But an hour later, as your son had summoned a storm with his crying, she had knocked on your door and told you she couldn't give you until the next day anymore. It just wasn't safe. And you understood, so you quickly began to pack, hastily hushing your infant son, who seemed in no hurry to stop crying.
You froze as you heard a boom. Not a boom from the storm your son had summoned. But a boom you recognized. 
You heard screams in the safe house as vines crawled up the outer walls and windows. You looked at the sad little boy that you'd tried to save from a life in a cold palace, with a possessive and jealous father. You shouldn't have even made it this far. But that's exactly why you thought….
It didn't matter now.
You picked him up, and ran out of your room, straight out the door and into the rain.
“Malleus! Enough!” You shouted. “I'll go with you! Just leave them alone!”
Before you stood a huge dragon, surrounded by his army. But as the dragon looked down at you, its eyes softened, and he began to shrink back into the man you married.
He smiled wildly, extending his arms wide.
“Beloved,” he purred, momentarily forgetting his anger as relief filled him.
You walked slowly through the mud, ignoring the cold that seeped in your bones from the excessive rain caused by two separate storms. You took a shuddering breath and stepped into his embrace, fighting off a shiver of a different kind as his arms wrapped around you and your son.
“Don't hurt them. They're all just innocent people who need someplace to stay,” you whispered in his ear.
He pressed his lips to your ears, continuing to purr, as he said, “They tried to hide their king's spouse from him. They must face some sort of punishment.”
“Mal,” you said firmly, gently pulling far enough back that you could look in his eyes. “They weren't hiding me. They were about to tell you where I was.”
A lie. But the only way to keep the people in that building safe.
“I shall spare them then,” he hummed. 
The change was instant. A flicker in his eyes that only you knew well enough to pick up on.
“Lilia, please escort my son home,” he ordered, his eyes not leaving yours as you felt the boy wrenched from your arms. Immediately, Malleus' grip shifted to your arm, and he dragged you along with him, straight into a glowing green portal…
Which led to a tower you recognized.
“Wait, no, no, I'm sorry-”
“If I don't punish you, how will you ever learn?” He waved his staff, summoning a stone table.
“Mal, please, our son-”
“You don't love him, but this will teach you to.”
“I do so love him!”
“Then you wouldn't have broken his family,” he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.
There was nowhere to run in the windowless tower, but you knew what came next. So you tried to yank yourself out of his grip, even if it was fruitless.
“What if he doesn't live another hundred years?” You cried as he wrestled you onto the table.
“He will. He has his father's blood.”
At least he admitted it. 
His hand covered your eyes, a green glow beginning to fill your vision.
“He won't remember me,” you pleaded as your body began to grow numb.
“I'll ensure he does.”
You drifted off, falling into dreams designed to “open your heart.” Dreams where the three of you lived happily.
After another hundred years of that, surely you'd become the well behaved spouse he needed. And if not, he had a hundred more years to spend on you. And one day? One day his perfect family would be a reality.
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You were elbows deep in another explosion your son had caused through his “science experiments” when you heard a knock on the door.
You blew a hair out of your face, before turning to your son.
“Can you get that, baby?” 
He nodded quickly, happy to do anything to lower his punishment. You dug through some more goo (you didn't want to know what exactly he made) and finally found the bathtub drain. You pulled the plug and…
Nothing.
You groaned. Guess you had to clean it the hard way. Again.
You heard excited noises from the front door, and smiled softly. Your son's partner was prone to making surprise visits, so you figured he was telling them all about his latest explosion. Young love was cute. You hoped it stayed that way.
You pulled your goo covered arms out of the bathtub, and pulled over the bucket that had seen horrors. You began scooping handfuls into it, hoping that less goo would force the drain to go down, when your son came back to the door, looking ecstatic.
“Hey, um, there's someone here to see you.”
You smirked, and said, “Well, as you can see I'm a little busy. Tell them to wait.”
He shook his head vehemently.
“Uh uh, you gotta come see them now.”
The way he was bouncing up and down, it must have been Uncle Epel. He was the favorite Uncle, mainly because he always brought treats with him.
“Well, tell him if he wants to chat, he has to help me clean-”
No sooner had the words left your mouth when some familiar pink magic flew over your shoulder, and made the goo in the bath dissipate. You froze in your place, too scared to look.
“Easy peasy. Luckily I've had a lot of experience with kid's messes, fu fu.”
You were a coward, who was too scared to face fate. As though refusing to face it would mean it would never come up behind you, and wrap his arms around you, affectionately nuzzling your neck.
“How was your vacation?” Lilia hummed.
“That's my dad!” Your son interrupted, excitedly. “It all makes sense now! Why I look fae, why I'm so skilled at magic, why I have a hard time connecting with my peers…”
If Lilia was anyone else, you'd quickly explain it didn't make sense, it was just a sick coincidence. But with him wrapped around you like a python…
You weren't in a position to be dealing with broken ribs, again.
“Not only that, but you have a big brother!” Lilia said happily.
“I do!”
“He's probably downstairs waiting for you! Let's go!”
You couldn't blame your son for falling for Lilia's charms. You'd also made that mistake many years ago. Lilia excitedly took your hand, floating down the stairs while dragging you, your son behind you.
At the bottom of the steps was Silver, who was looking anywhere but at you. Lilia summoned a portal, and you were quickly pulled through it, followed by the two boys.
Your son stared in awe at the mansion that haunted your nightmares.
“We get to live here now?”
“Yes! I have a room all for you, Silver will show you the way, then he'll take you to get a new wardrobe.”
Your son took the stairs two at a time, then paused to look back at you, confused.
“Why haven't we been a family the entire time?”
You stiffened again, but Lilia was a wonderful actor.
“You see, your father is fae and loses track of time. I was supposed to come pick you up. I only just realized how much time passed. I'm so sorry.”
He turned to you, he laced his fingers through your hair, kissing you passionately. He pulled slightly away, whispering,
“Forgive me?”
In an attempt to ease whatever punishment was coming your way, you slowly nodded. You son beamed happily, then looked at you both.
“This is the best day ever! I can't wait to tell my partner!” He pulled out his phone, immediately beginning the call as he continued up the stairs.
“Well? Was that enough of a vacation for you?” Lilia asked coldly.
“How long-”
“Sevens, I knew where you were the whole time. Quite frankly, I'm insulted that you felt otherwise.”
He sounded genuinely insulted. Fuck.
“So…” you trailed off.
“I haven't decided what to do with you yet. You know how important you and my family are to me, yet you ran from me, and stole our son.” He grabbed you by the hair, forcing you to look into his eyes.
“But rest assured, if this happens again, I'll come up with a punishment that leans more…irreversible.”
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“Y/N?” 
Fuck. You knew that soft voice. It had a slight tremble of disbelief and shock, so you weren't surprised when you felt a hand gently take your chin, and direct it to a pair of gorgeous auroral hues.
You had thought enough time would pass that you would be unfindable. So here you were, at a cafe with your teenage son, thinking you were safe. What a joke.
“Y/N, where have you been? I missed you.” 
You believed him. God, you wish you didn't, but you did. The problem with Silver was that he never knew what he did wrong. He didn't understand. To him, you just vanished one day, for no reason.
“Oh-” you started, but your son interrupted you.
“Hey, back off,” he said firmly, grabbing his table knife as though that would defend against Silver's sword fighting skills.
Or Lilia's anything, for that matter, as you realized he stood behind his son with a scary look in his eyes. A look you had experience with. A look that said, behave.
“S/N, don't,” you whispered, not daring to pull away from Silver.
“I'm not going to let him take you!” He stood from his seat, causing Silver's eyes to flicker over to him, and grow soft with fondness.
“You're all grown up!”
“Back off-”
“That's enough of that. I appreciate your loyalty, but it would be better suited elsewhere,” Lilia finally spoke, disarming your boy.
“Let go of me-”
“Father, please don't-”
“It's alright, Silver. I've raised two boys, I know how to handle a tantrum,” Lilia said lightly, pinning your son's arms to his sides. “As for you, young man, that's no way to speak to your father, or your grandfather.”
“We're not even related!” He shouted, and it was only then you realized the cafe was empty. They had planned this. Or, more accurately, Lilia had planned this, and probably surprised Silver.
“Enough. I'm putting you in timeout.”
He summoned a portal, and dragged your son towards it.
He turned back towards Silver with a firm look on his face, “Silver. Remember what I taught you.” And then he walked through the portal.
Silver held out a hand for you, and you swallowed your bile as you took it. You walked through the portal together, and found yourself in Silver’s room in the Castle in the Valley of Thorns.
He released your hand, dissipated the portal, and went to lock the door. You took the opportunity to sit on the bed.
Silver sighed as he stared at the floor.
“Father says that if I want to keep you in my life, I have to be more firm.”
He looked back up at you, something new swimming in his eyes. Something that frightened you.
“I don't want to hurt you. But today, seeing you for the first time in so long, I realized he was right.”
The frightening look wavered for a moment, as he said, “Why did you make my son hate me? Do you not think I'd be a good father?”
You sighed, remembering how easy it was to fall prey to Silver's everything. “If it were just you I had to worry about, I know you'd be a great father.”
“Then why…” the look cemented back into frightening again, and he stood stiffly, like a general deciding whether to spare an enemy soldier.
“I've given you a good life, a husband, and a family, but you are taking it for granted. You need to learn to appreciate what you have.”
That was all Lilia. Maybe if you had run away with Silver, you might have saved the last embers of your love for him. But then you might also be killed.
“I have arranged a cell in the dungeon for you. It's comfortable, but isolated. You will stay there until you learn your place.”
You fought to escape his grip as he dragged you down the stairs, pleading with him to see reason. But it was too late, and when the door was latched behind you, you couldn't help but wish you'd thought to try things differently.
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You couldn't imagine how it took so long for him to find you. But as you and your son ran in the night, you wished it had been longer.
Ten minutes prior, you'd gotten a call from a wheezing voice you almost didn't recognize.
“Sebek…he…he's coming.”
“Lilia? What are you talking about? Where did you get my number?”
You heard a hard cough, followed by a tired laugh. “Who did you think was your fairy godmother? Run Y/N.”
The call hung up, and you grabbed a bag to start packing, only to hear a loud bang as your front door splintered. Your son had wanted to fight him off, but bless his heart he'd never win. So you'd both escaped out a window and ran.
You knew he was much too fast for you, but your son was fae as well, so he had a chance of getting away. And if you could just wear Sebek out…
You screamed out in pain as you felt something pierce you from behind.
You collapsed to your knees, staring down at the sword poking through your chest.
“No!” Your son screamed, and you choked back the pain long enough to say, “keep running!”
He looked at you regretfully, then angrily stared at something over your shoulder.
“I'll kill you!” He shouted, before running off, and disappearing down an alley.
You swayed from the position on your knees, your vision growing spotty. You turned over your shoulder, vaguely aware of a green haired man staring at you in shock.
Oh. That was Sebek! You had a date today, right? You didn't feel so good though, so maybe you should tell him you had to cancel.
“I… I didn't mean to,” he cried shakily, tears beginning to roll down his cheeks. You collapsed again, this time not having the strength to get off your side. He knelt next to you, and felt a sharp pain from something pulling. He laid you on your back, and pressed his hands to your chest, muttering something you couldn't quite hear. His voice sounded like water, moving in and out of your ears.
“Y/N…..don…please…I”
You nodded like you understood. 
His hands came to cup your face. It must be raining, because his hands were all wet. You'd have to make sure Grim remembered to grab an umbrella before class.
You slowly lifted your hand to cup Sebek 's hands that were clutching your face. His cheeks were covered in raindrops, and he seemed to be trying to tell you something important. But you were so tired, it was hard to keep your eyes open.
You had a final moment of clarity, where you stared at Sebek 's broken face, and felt momentary pity for him. But maybe this would teach him something that he would never forget over the course of his long life.
And you thought of your wonderful son escaping this creature, and the black finally completely took your vision.
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fartcloudfartcloud · 3 months ago
Note
Do you mind doing a smut blurb about dry humping with Logan pls. I just need to read some dry humping with that man omfg
Tysm in advance you write Logan smut so well 😫😫 🫶🏽🫶🏽
Ofcourse I can lovely, and thank u so much omg im blushing. I'd do anything for this old man and if it were up to me I would have achieved atleast 1 nut on every inch of his body. you know how it is. I love writing dialogue so much, so I hope when I do it's like sexy and in character and not like ew why would he say that ykwim 😭😭😭 Also just realized u said dry humping and this is very much not dry, so if u want specifically some like over the clothes bumping and grinding I fuck with that too, just lmk 😋
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Logan couldn't wrap his head around how so men come home to their beautiful girls, just to mistreat them. (he told me himself)
He couldn't imagine coming home and doing anything but pleasing whatever fresh faced beauty had burrowed their way into his heart.
Especially when that freshed faced beauty was as freshed faced and beautiful as you.
You'd fight him, shoo him away when he leers over your shoulder at your makeup routine and scold him when he's got his phone camera in your face. You'd never change his mind, no matter how hard youd try.
He didn't know how you could either, especially now when he's got you like this.
The room is hot and sticky as sounds of you and logans debauchery fill the room. The scene is nothing short of pornographic, since hes got you with your soaked core pressed into his thigh, your legs moving you in a mind numbing pattern.
Logans hands on your hips do most the work, though. He's got you pressed down in a way you're not sure you could sustain on your own, your hips locked back and clit taking most of the abuse, and it's driving you up the wall.
Your eyes are cast down, stairing at the fat of your pussy being smushed back and forth, leaving a slimy trail of slick to drip down the sides of Logans limb.
Logans eyes, however, have not left your face for a moment. You look jaw dropping like this, your head bobbing as your hands desperately grab onto whatever they can hold, your moans reaching a fever pich every time he applies just a little more force.
"You can take it, right baby?" The words don't make it past your lips, but you shakily nod and pant an audible "mhm".
"Atta girl," He praises, one hand coming up to grab your chin. He's got a goofy grin on his face, his pupils blown out and his hair falling into his face as he brings your eyes back up to his.
"There she is," His smile turns fond upon seeing your face again. His hand quickly returns to your hip and resumes his relentless assault on your core, this time his eyes locked on yours in an intimate embrace.
Not only can he smell it, but he can feel your impending climax. He can feel the way the slick is pouring from you, can feel the way your bud gets all stiff and sensitive. If nothing else, it was hard to ignore the way you shake like a leaf, your lungs void of air as it all overwhelms you.
"That's it right there, huh princess?" He asks, your voice becoming high pitched and whiney as you nod, your hands tightening on his tanktop.
"Let me see it baby. Don't take those pretty eyes off of me," He orders, picking up the pace, sprinting to bring you to your finish.
"Lo- its- mph~ i-im-" "shhh, just let it go," He whispers lowly, the sound going straight to your already buzzing center. It's not long before your eyes break his gaze, mindlessly rolling into the back of your head as the feeling consumes your body whole.
His hands don't falter, working you through your orgasm as you relentlessly shake and cry in his hands. Your face ties up, eyes now scrunched up and mouth dropped open in what is probably his favorite of all your looks.
He doesn't stop till you're twitching and squirming, whines going from orgasmic to almost painful as your whole core becomes sensitive.
"Fuck- Logan," you plead, wrapping your arms around his waist and hiding your face into your neck. You let out a deep sigh as you relax into him, feeling the waves of your release leaving you and being left with a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction.
He wraps his arms around you too, comforting you with his big arms and firm embrace.
"You have fun, princess?" He teases, kissing the crown of your head and pressing his face against it.
You respond with a quiet "mhm", face refusing to leave his neck.
He holds you like this, whispering soft words of so good, so pretty, my baby, into your ears and making your mind get all floaty and soft.
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hope u enjoyed!! thank u for the request, keep them coming I'm having so much funnn omg
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save-a-forest-ride-a-bear · 7 months ago
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🗒 ꒰⸝⸝₊ General Dating Headcanons ❛ ✧
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Featuring: Astarion, Gale, Wyll & Halsin
# Note: content warning for very brief talk of abuse and general trauma back to navigation ´ˎ˗
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🌿┊ASTARION
Talk about touch and attention starved. This guy wouldn't know a healthy relationship if it hit him in the face. Whenever you're nice to him or touch him without any innuendo, he's on edge. You must want something from him. Why else would you be doing this? It doesn't make sense.
Speaking of which, touching him out of nowhere usually doesn't end well. He has a tendency to flinch. He cackles and says he just thought he saw a bug, "Silly me," but you both know better than that.
He grows used to it, however. It just takes some warming up to. Eventually, the discomfort fades, replaced by a yearning so strong he swore he felt his heart beat again. When his brain realizes you don't want to hurt him and it's safe to be around you, he starts craving more contact. He's too prideful to ask, but he's not good at hiding it, either.
He loves any kind of compliment, don't get him wrong, but the ones that have nothing to do with his appearance seem to stick more. He's heard every single little praise possible for his face and body — but for his personality? For his mannerisms? If it ever happened before, he can't remember it.
Insists he doesn't like cuddling and only does it because you want to. But the one night you didn't, you woke up to him clinging to you anyway. He said he must've done so in his sleep, completely ignoring the fact elves can't sleep. Deception: critical failure.
Surprisingly protective. If you get hurt during a fight he goes ham on the enemy while yelling for someone else to take care of your wounds right now. He lost everything he had after Cazador — lost even himself to the hands of that sick, wicked man. He can't afford to lose you too.
The relationship started with him trying to manipulate you, sure, but that's not the case anymore. He cares. He genuinely cares for something other than himself for the first time in two centuries, and he's scared you still think you're being tricked by his charms. Again, he's too prideful for constant displays of affection, but he does say "I love you" more often than ever. Maybe if he says it enough times, you'll believe it.
He stares a lot. There's just something so endearing about seeing you in your own little world, oblivious to everything else, or at least oblivious to his gawking. It's the most honest part of you, the most yourself you could be, and he enjoys it from afar.
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🌿┊GALE
So needy. You leave him at camp for a few hours and you come back to him acting like he needs to be sent to the seaside for his health. A year of living as a hermit does things to a man's necessities for attention.
Loves your scent. He doesn't share his clothes with anyone (that fabric is expensive, dammit), but he insists you wear them so that they smell like you later.
Despite being a cat owner, he's very dog-coded. Will do things with the sole purpose of receiving praise or kisses from you and gets extremely pouty when he doesn't.
Speaking of kisses, he takes any excuse conceivable to kiss you. Good morning, good night and good luck kisses are very much mandatory. Doesn't even have to be on his lips, he's more than satisfied with a cheek or forehead kiss as well.
He enjoys being taken care of, even if he complains. When you scold him for not sleeping over some ancient tome, he can't help but feel loved. Will return the favour, of course — especially if it comes to food. He's very insistent with the "three meals a day" thing.
Will read to you, there's no way around it. It's relaxing for both of you, so he doesn't see why he shouldn't. He also says he can pay attention better to the text when he says it out loud, anyway. You having your head on his lap as he does it is merely a bonus.
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🌿┊WYLL
If this man has any flaw, it's that he's always trying to make every moment you spend together perfect and forgets to just lay back and enjoy himself. Even then, he only does it because of how much he loves you.
The last romantic! Goes all out with dates and gifts — fancy restaurants and the biggest bouquets you've ever seen. Money is no object when it comes to you. Truly a good old-fashioned lover boy.
Definitely has a saviour complex — the type to say "I can fix them" unironically. He just loved you and wants you to be okay, and if he has to drag you there himself he will.
Will go on rants about how smitten he is with you and how perfect you are on a daily basis. If you have to leave for the day, he'll write it as a love letter instead.
Always holding you close, but there's no possessiveness to it. It's a display of affection, not ownership. He's yours as much as you are his.
Loves taking showers together. Not for any sexual reason (though he wouldn't complain if things ended up going down that path), he just finds it incredibly intimate and genuinely enjoys washing your hair for you.
You're not just another romance to him — you're the love of his life, the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with, if the gods allow it.
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🌿┊HALSIN
Despite the whole "Desire flourishes wherever it finds purchase" thing, he genuinely doesn't see himself falling for anyone else as he did for you. It's nice to know he could still indulge if he wanted, but for now, he doesn't.
Loves having his hair played with. There's just something so soothing about it. Or maybe it's his wild shape talking, asking for pets. We'll never know.
Always finds an excuse for you to sit on his lap. Again, not for sexual reasons, he just likes wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your head or shoulder.
Even though he isn't one for commitment, he has a constant, extremely severe case of baby fever. He obviously wouldn't push you if you're not ready, but he does make his sentiments on the matter known.
Stepping dangerously close to smut territory with this one, but he loves how small you are compared to him. The way he engulfs you entirely when he hugs you or how your hand disappears under his as he holds it — it's endearing to him.
I cannot go without mentioning how good his hugs are. Like, seriously. He's so warm and gentle but still strong and it makes you feel safe. It's the best thing in Faerun.
Loves how you look like wearing his clothes. It ties into the size difference thing, since they just look huge on you. Also, much like Gale, he has a thing for your scent, so there's really no downsides.
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 6 months ago
Text
Somewhere Only We Know
Dustin wants to know why Eddie despises you over every other member of the dark side. You're just some cheerleader, right? What could you have possibly done to incur Eddie's wrath?
Starts off with Dusty Buns POV, then Eddie then yours.
Mentions of weed, Jason being a prick, Eddie pines but won't admit it... Mdni. Vecna? Who's Vecna.
🖤💌
Dustin truly thought Eddie Munson was one of the coolest people he had ever known, Steve of course was on that list of total badasses as well.
However for all, Dustin knew of Eddie and that was a lot (the guy made his feelings loud and clear on a variety of things, conformity, Jason Carver, why metal was the superior genre of music, Jason Carver.
But in the few short months since Dustin joined Hellfire and was taken under Eddie's wing, there was one topic he wasn't so clued up on, and that was you and the mystery of why Eddie seemed to despise you above everyone else in this school.
He had tried to casually bring the topic of you up, sure you were a cheerleader and on the dark side and Eddie hated conformity and shit but clearly you had done something painful to Eddie for him to hate you like this.
Dustin wasn't exaggerating either, anytime you and Eddie were in the same vicinity of each other it was like the temperature dropped in the room and Dustin was chilled to the bone at the icy glares between you and Eddie.
Literally, the mention of your name had Eddie's eyes filling with disdain. "She's a traitor and can't be trusted, don't ask about her again Henderson" Eddie snapped during one lunch break when Dustin brought you up out of curiosity.
"Uh meaning?" he asks confused but not wanting to piss Eddie off any further. His question is ignored until Gareth answers it quietly.
"She used to be in Hellfire, then she tried out for a spot on the cheerleading squad and got in. Refused to choose between the two, said she could do both and that Eddie was being an asshole, they had a big fight and she left Hellfire. It broke Eddie's heart even though he pretends otherwise"
Well, shit. "Don't tell him I told you that dude and don't bring her up again. Touchy subject" Dustin nods and expects that's the last he will hear about you.
It's not.
💌
Eddie ignores the chatter around him while his gaze is solely focused on you. Jackson had been hanging around you constantly and for some reason, it pissed Eddie off. Couldn't he enjoy his pretzels and Yoohoo in peace without seeing such a sickening display?
If Eddie felt a twist in his gut every time Jackson got too close to you then that was his business.
"Can't they go to the bleachers and hash it out so I don't have to bring up my lunch every time Jackass decides to flirt" Eddie snaps and narrows his eyes at you, Gareth rolls his eyes and Jeff hides his snort behind a cough when Eddie's glare is aimed at him.
"Dude she's not even interested in him. He was an asshole when they dated and she got sick of him within two weeks" Jeff is apparently very informed on the matter and this annoys him even more.
"You're very informed on the dating lives of the dark side Jeff?" Jeff shrugs and mutters something under his breath, something suspiciously like he still talks to you from time to time.
This would be Eddie's next rant. Giving the time of days to traitors was not in the Hellfire handbook, just because they had pretty eyes and a sweet but deadly smile was not an excuse to break said rule.
Unfortunately, he has a deal to make, the rant would be adjourned to another time. "Gentlemen, I must leave you now to embark on a quest for gold in the deep dark woods" he bows then heads out to his spot in the woods.
Waits for ten minutes and thinks that whoever it is isn't coming. All he had to signify the meeting was a note in his locker and he's still unsure if he's walking into a trap by Carver.
Impatient and just about to give up, he gets up and then stills when he sees you walk into the clearing. What the shit... Since when did you smoke weed? He's never known you to do it in any of the time he's known you.
"Munson" you nod and he closes his gaping mouth as you join him on the table, he expects you to be tense but you close your eyes and enjoy the cool wind and the peace of just the birds singing and leaves rustling gently. He forgot how much you liked being out here.
He clears his throat refusing to get lost in memories and you sigh, open your eyes and he stares back impassively. "Surprised Jackass isn't hanging off you like a limpet" he snarks and you roll your eyes at his tone.
"Jackson' you emphasize ''needs to take a hint. Look, Megan asked me to pick up weed for the party this weekend, so we can cut to the chase" Eddie snorts, you never did have time for bullshit.
"How much do you want?" you shrug and place twenty-five bucks on the table.
"Carver is paying apparently" There is a glint of mischief in your eyes and you smile impishly. Eddie does not get lost in that smile, no way. He clears his throat and smirks.
"Well if it's Carver's money" he takes the full amount and is surprised when you unsuccessfully try to hide a smile. He sobers up and plays with his rings, looks at you briefly then speaks again.
"Uh, it's potent so just make sure that you don't get overboard" he spits it out quickly, like he doesn't care either way what you do. You pause before getting up and there's that soft smile again.
"Careful Munson, anyone would think you still care about me'' there's a sadness to your tone and Eddie watches you go. There's an ache in his chest that feels all too familiar.
💌
You loved cheerleading, the closeness you felt with the rest of the team, learning routines together and having each other's backs. The close friendship you had with Chrissy and Tina. It was senior year and the cheer squad were on the precipice of winning a trophy for the school.
In that sense your life was perfect. In other ways not so much. You hated Jason but tolerated him for Chrissy. Jackson wouldn't stop bugging you to go back out with him, even though you had barely dated him for two weeks and grew tired of his jealous and demanding behaviour.
No way were you going down that road again. Then there was Eddie Munson, who hated you and made that feeling known, he was the bane of your existence and yet you were so tired of the animosity between you both.
Most of all you were sick of Jason and his stupid superiority, boy did he never let you forget that you didn't belong with the cheer squad. He all but cornered you after lunch to rant at you for laughing at one of Eddie's stupid jokes at Jason's expense.
It was a reflex. That's all and it was funny to see Jason brought down a peg or two.
"Don't think I forget where you came from freak, you can easily go back to obscurity playing Dungeons and Dwarves with Munson and his band of geeks" Jason snaps and you meet his gaze with unwavering intensity.
"Dragons", He looks confused and you smirk ''Its Dungeons and Dragons, dumbass" you tack on dumbass at the end just to piss him off even more, how dare he threaten you? Who did he think he was?
Sometimes you wished you could just go back and be a part of Hellfire Club again, a club that so easily accepted and looked after their own. Cheerleading was similar to that but the people in your friends circle sure liked to ruin any sense of security you felt. Mostly Jason and some of his Neanderthal friends.
Jason snorts and then he slams the locker beside you hard and it rattles you but you don't show it, when that doesn't work Jason knocks the books out of your hands and they go flying and he stomps on them before he leaves.
His laughter echoes down the hallway and you shout after him that he's an asshole, gather the books as best as you can and freeze as your well-loved copy of The Hobbit which already isn't in the best state falls apart completely.
Tears pool in your eyes and you hastily wipe them away, it's just a book, it's just a book you chant in your head but it doesn't work. It's been your constant companion since you were nine and it breaks your heart to see it tattered and broken.
Ringed hands help gather the rest of your work and you whimper. Shit, not him. Not now. Hastily you wipe your tears away and stand up, meet Eddie's gaze as he holds your books for you.
He looks begrudging in helping you but slowly his features soften at your tears, he looks at the tattered book in your hand, at the faint smudge of a shoe print.
"Who...Carver did this?" he growls and you nod still seething but the anger is ebbing away to sadness.
"I've had that book since I was nine and I know I can buy a new one but it's not the same, I hate him and I hate his stupid bullshit king title. He's an asshole and his group of Neanderthal friends and he can't even get the name of D&D right and I miss...'' you swallow and Eddie's anger melts away, his gaze intent on you.
"What do you miss?" he asks softly and you figure you've already spilled out some secrets so why not indulge one more.
"I miss Hellfire and I miss y...everyone" you hurriedly say and hope Eddie didn't notice the slip ''but everyone hates me now"
Eddie gently hands you back your books and you thank him. He's silent for a moment then speaks up.
"Everyone misses you too" he is about to walk away when you stop him. Your heart is racing but you have to be sure.
"Everyone?" you confirm and he knows what you're asking, if everyone includes him. He nods and reaffirms what he said.
"Everyone sweetheart and one more thing... no one hates you" he walks away at that point, runs to catch up with one of the freshmen in Hellfire and steals his hat. A laugh bursts out from you as you watch Dustin? as he chases Eddie around the hallway.
Yeah, you do miss Hellfire...and Eddie.
♥️
When you get to your locker on Monday morning there's something jammed in your locker so that it isn't fully closed. When you open the locker, a book falls out and you recognise the cover immediately.
A new copy of The Hobbit. You pick the book up and hug it to your chest, eyes sparkling with tears. You know exactly who left it in your locker but the little note of crumpled-up paper falls out.
It's clearly ripped from a Dungeon Masters notebook. All that's on it is a small message in a messy scrawl but it makes your heart skip several beats anyway.
Since Carver ruined the first copy, I thought you might want another.
E M 🖤
💞💞💞💞💞💌
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godlyrots · 7 months ago
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𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓.
PAIRING — jason todd x fox!reader.
SYNOPSIS — you can't stay mad at him.
WORD COUNT — 1126.
WARNINGS + CONTENT — pre-established relationship, previous fwb relationship. oral, fem receiving. marking. might be ooc. use of petnames. making out + messy kissing if you squint? got kind of poetic in some places for whatever reason, i'm just vv sleepy. not proof read at all lmao so if you see mistakes ignore them.
AUTHOR'S NOTE — introducing fox!reader. i've only seen the animal!reader thing the OBX fandom but since i haven't seen anyone ( to my knowledge ) do this for DC i wanted to try. i'll have different iterations of readers who'll have different personality types + aesthetics based on different animals/what i come up with for them. but they are people, not hybrids.
. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .
"you smell nice." you're whispering into his ear and your voice is rough from hours of rehearsal with your band and jason's hands are nestled on your thighs. he kneads at the pliant flesh, his calluses providing a contrast to the smooth skin in his palms. he lets out a soft hum once your teeth find the spot you know he likes.
he's got that familiar cologne on, filled with woody elements and that beautifully rich, musky scent. it was a gift from you for his birthday last year and he wore it until the bottle was empty and sat on a shelf in his closet and he bought a new one. it wasn't the first time you've been like this, this was your way of apologizing and you knew how to be physically affectionate even if you can't verbalize it. he slightly cranes his neck once your lips work to leave hickies on his skin, the old ones were fading into a light pink hue. you stopped once his phone lit up though and jason's hand reaches for it absentmindedly on the couch beside him.
he types out a response to who you imagine to be one of his friends but he quickly places in back down and focuses on you and his eyes rake over your pouty lips with your lip gloss and lipstick all over him. you can't help but try to remove your berry coloured products off his skin. his thumb works on your bottom lip and wipes off the remaining product. "still mad?" he asks with a low voice, in a tiny mini-skirt you're all the more attractive to him. you fight the warmth that fills your belly as wetness dribbles onto your underwear.
jason secretly loves when you fight despite the fact that he thinks some of your arguments are pointless, but seeing you riled up and angry in your little skirts or a mixture his baggy shirts and shorts or just underwear. he knows that he fucked up, you guys don't keep secrets but by the end of your fights he knows that you'll end up laying on your back with his head between your thighs or you on your knees with his cock in your mouth. either way you didn't complain because you're sure that you loved watching him as much as he loved watching you.
"little bit." you're telling him as he looks at you with that same hardened expression despite him understanding that he did hurt you. his justification didn't really matter, not right now. "i hate lying, you shouldn'a done it." you add on to the few words you'd said and your voice was still hoarse.
"m'sorry, doll"
"m'sorry too, just don't hide things from me."
. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .
you have a fistful of jason's hair in your hands as his tongue laps at your wetness and sucks on your clit like it's the only thing on his mind. the noises from both of you are borderline obscene as he keeps a steady hand on your thigh and your whines are increasing in volume, even with the music to cover up the noise. he's pulling you into him as you squirm and bite back the moans that are climbing up your throat and past your lips. "christ, jay—" you're whimpering now and it almost feels pathetic but your body is one fire, the warmth of his skin of you feels illicit and jason doesn't come up for air.
he pumps his cock with his free-hand in his pants as he listens to you and with the added pent up frustrations of you not speaking for several days and your earlier escapades has got his head spinning. he can't get over listening to you, seeing you, feeling you. it's like he's this fiend and no matter what he does he'll never rid himself of this vice, this addiction and this longing. you don't hear what he says between your thighs as it's muffled by your plush skin but you know it's something absolutely disgusting.
"y'feel too good, baby."
he can't help but moan as he continues to both eat you out and fuck his fist and he can't get enough. jason's almost dedicated to getting you off, each touch is an apology, it might as well be an act of worship 'cause this is the closest he's ever felt to god. i'm sorry, m'sorry, i'm sorry. with each lick, rut of your lips or collection of each drop of your delicious arousal.
you instinctively raise your hips once he works your clit particularly well but he pushes you back down before you can blink properly. jason knows that you're close, he can feel how you clench around his tongue as he works on your puffy cunt, he's a man with a cause, a mission. you were already horny when you decided to mark him up, leave little reminders of you but god, he's so everything.
"right there. s'perfect jay." you tell him, voice filled with lust and genuine adoration. you feel your orgasm creep up on you and he harshly sucks on your little clit and doesn't stop until you're squirming and trying to squeeze your legs together as a way to self-soothe and have the ache subside but it was no use. he doesn't stop until your cum is coating the bottom half of his face and jason's head moves up from between your legs with low eyes that don't peer away from your pussy. it takes a lot in him, everything he has, even to stop himself from eating you out until you're writhing underneath him but you seem pretty spent.
your chest is heaving and you've got these haphazard breaths that stall every few seconds and your skin is warm, covered in a mixture of sweat and your shea butter lotion that's permanently stuck in jason's mind. you kiss him so feverishly that you can taste yourself on his tongue once it enters your mouth and you're moaning into it. he pulls away though, too quickly you think, with swollen, puffy lips and those dazed eyes like he just got some of the best head of his life.
"forgive me?"
you nod once your breathing calms down and your eyes catch the lipstick and hickies all over his neck that scream you're mine.
"guessin' that means you want your dick sucked?"
there's a slight beat of silence before he agrees with you. "fuckin' blue-balled myself f'you. it's only fair."
you roll your eyes before moving from the couch to the carpeted floors infrontt of you and you're on your knees. jason's hand pulls down his pants until they're down to his ankles and he's holdin' up your cute little boho braids up with his hand.
"whatever."
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uselessnbee · 1 year ago
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something i can't stop thinking about is the fact that Percy Jackson started as a comfort story for Rick's son to show him that his adhd and dyslexia doesn't have to be just a bad thing and the fandom then took Percy and Leo and made them into these stupid idiots that don't even know basic math or "big" words and wouldn't be able to even tie their shoelaces without someone else's (someone smarter's) help
don't yall see how fucked up that is? a big part of this fandom has adhd and/or dyslexia and/or other learning disabilities/neurodivergence and find comfort in those characters. they are called lazy and stupid all the time and then yall decided to take characters with those disabilities and ignore their inteligence and made them into something they are not just because their adhd is more "visible" (read more stereotypical looking) (even tho that's not true either because the fandom made them into chaotic gremlins but in reality Percy is more just sarcastic and snarky and even that is more just his internal monologue for his own amusment and to cope and Leo just uses humor as a coping mechanism to hide his depression and other issues but that's a discussion for another time)
Percy is canonically very smart and strategic. no he isn't very good at school. it's what happens when you're neurodivergent and have learning disabilities. that doesn't mean he's stupid. no he doesn't know everything about greek mythology and that doesn't make him stupid either. but when Annabeth tells him the myth he is very good at coming up with strategies and how to win a fight. he's not smart as Annabeth because Annabeth is literally a daughter of the goddess of wisdom so stop fucking comparing them. are you also going to call Annabeth weak and incapable because she can't control water? no you won't because that's fucking stupid. and Leo. fucking Leo. is literally canonically a mathematic genius and also genius when it comes building stuff. they're both smart. they're not fucking stupid. they know and understand words that are longer than 5 letters. no they do not struggle with basic knowledge. they're not fucking stupid.
and miss me with the "it's just a joke" bullshit
jokes are supposed to be funny
and it's not just a joke for many of you because the number of fanfics where they are written in exactly this way is too fucking high. it's actually surprising to find a fanfic where they are written right
in conclusion: the way this fandom portrays Percy and Leo is reinforcing the harmful misconception that people with adhd and/or other learning disabilities are stupid and i hate it with a burning passion
call me sensitive all you want i'll gladly accept it i will rather be called sensitive for hating that those characters are being treated this way than follow the fandoms harmful idea about them
thank you for coming to my ted talk <3
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pedrithink · 1 year ago
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understand ✩ jude bellingham
request: can you do jude and the reader arguing during their vacation and she starts crying when they're at the beach but she doesn't want him to notice but he notices and starts apologizing
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"I'm just telling you that I felt uncomfortable, that's all." You exasperate as you cross your arms. Is it so hard for Jude to understand your side?
He shakes his head impatiently. "And I'm telling you that no big deal happened."
"They were practically all over you, Jude. They were hitting on you and ignoring my existence." You roll your eyes to keep tears from escaping your eyes.
"And why does that matter? I'm with you, you know that." Jude runs his hands over his own face somewhat aggressively and, whispers. "There's no need to create a giant problem over a situation as silly as this."
"You seem to be schismatic about not understanding my side." You cross your arms. "The point is that they kept sending little papers with their instagram, sending drinks, and had the audacity to come to our table and talk to you while I stood there watching everything like an idiot." You swallow your tears and stare at him with glittering eyes. "And you did nothing."
"What did you want me to do? Please, love. They're just fans."
Jude's impatient voice only makes your heart tighter, and the moonlight, the sound of the breaking waves, and the sand invading your shoe do nothing to improve the situation.
Faced with this situation, you can only take a deep breath and hope that this is the dream and that you are not arguing while you are in such a paradisiacal place, hope that Jude understands 1% of what you are feeling right now.
"We traveled here to have fun on my vacation and look at the kind of ridiculous thing we're discussing in the middle of a party." He grimaces in dissatisfaction.
You don't have the guts to say anything else for the next 20-30 minutes and Jude much less.
You are surrounded by the noise of the party, the crashing waves and each other's pained, dissatisfied sighs.
Jude stood beside you, head down. In a way that he didn't need to face you for the moment. He knows that you need this moment of silence to think about everything you've said to each other in the few minutes you've come outside the party to talk.
But at no time does he dare leave your side. Whatever the fight may be, you don't leave each other's side without working it out.
It all started because of some women who didn't care that Jude was holding hands with you, that he was kissing you relentlessly and insatiably. They didn't care that he was with someone else and it bothered you because Jude wasn't able to say "Enough" to them, according to him, it was an unnecessary fight to buy.
You guys normally don't argue, you don't like it. You avoid it as much as possible and always respect each other's opinion and space, but this situation left you completely out of place and you tried to express this with the intention that Jude would understand your side.
Your eyes fill with tears when you hear Keshi's "Understand" playing in the background in the inner part of the party, the light touch of the music along with the sounds of the waves makes your heart squeeze because this is your song.
take you by the hand, you're the only one who understands.
Tears escape and you try to hide them as you bite down hard on your lower lip trying to keep the sobs from escaping your lips.
You don't want Jude to see you crying, but you can't stop more tears from flooding your face.
He is the person who understands you most in the whole world, so why does it seem that now you are not being understood?
Jude takes courage to look at you and is startled when he sees you crying. His heart shatters into a million pieces and the urge to pull you into a hug becomes immense, he can't resist and pulls you around your waist. "Hey, no. No, my love. I'm sorry, don't cry."
Jude's arms grab your waist and you try to avoid it, but you can't resist melting into his embrace either. "Please forgive me." He whispers as he strokes your hair. "I thought it was something silly, but now I can clearly see that you have been affected by it. Not knowing how to express myself properly is one of my biggest fucking flaws. I hate that about me."
Jude says the last sentence in a low way, he wanted to throw himself into the sea and disappear for a few minutes. He feels so ashamed for putting you through such a situation.
Jude's hands walk to your waist and pulls you back so that your eyes stick to his, he always liked to talk looking into your eyes. "Hurting your heart was the last thing I wanted in the world. Forgive me, my love."
"I know and understand that you didn't mean to, Jude. But, this lack of positioning hurts." You explain as you dry the trail of tears from your face. "It may be silly and insignificant to you, but it makes me insecure."
His eyes soften and you can even see a trail of tears forming on his edge. "I didn't mean to hurt you, I just thought I was making the right choices, trying to avoid a fight or something, but clearly I wasn't. It hurt you and I promise that from now on I will review my attitudes."
His hands walk over to caress your back. "I value you so much, I really do, and I honestly don't know what my life would be without you. I know I let you down, and in the end, I feel like it hurt me more than it hurt you because I can't handle the idea that I hurt you. I love you too much.” He whispers. “I didn't mean to hurt you like that."
You hug Jude by the neck and give him a light kiss on his lips, you know that he didn't mean to hurt you and this conversation (not the fight) was even good for you to clarify some points and prevent more situations like this from happening again in the future.
Jude makes you feel complete.
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blog-name-idk · 5 months ago
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The Plot Twist | 05
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Written by @blog-name-idk and @eserethriddle
Summary: Once upon a time you would have jumped at the chance to live the idol girlfriend life. The cameras, the action, the whirlwind romance. But what was once a dream has now become your worst nightmare, and you fully intend to fight the universe as it repeatedly conspires to set you up with your seven perfectly good soulmates from Bangtan Sonyeondan.
In which we punt Y/N into all the fanfiction tropes and you do your feral best to subvert the love story.
Because nani the fuck, you are The Plot Twist.
Pairing: OT7 X Fem!Reader
Genre: Soulmate!AU, crack, humor, idol!AU, light angst, slow burn, romantic comedy, just a fun silly old time
Rating: 18+
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Chapter 5: "It's fine! South Korea has universal healthcare coverage!"
Of three things you are absolutely certain. First, soulmates exist. Second, the universe – and you don't know how potent its power may be – runs on some sort of karmic imbalance. And third, you are unconditionally, and irrevocably, fucked.
It is raining.
In a rare, extremely odd fit of forethought, you actually have an umbrella in your bag. Normally, you would scoff at weather predictions and dare the clouds to do their worst. But today, you found yourself grabbing your umbrella before leaving for your commute, and the skies that have darkened into an ominous, storm-like gray after your work shift do not phase you at all.
Today, your undoing lies in a different kind of disaster preparedness.
Hard water pelts down almost as if it is herding you, and you hurry from the assault of the rippling sky to the awning of a closed coffee shop to grab your umbrella. Expletives spew from your lips as you dig through your messy bag. You're so focused that you barely register someone also taking refuge from the sudden storm – a man wearing a mask and a bucket hat, but is shivering through a wet, black long sleeved t-shirt that's sticking to what looks like a very toned body.
Not that that's the type of thing you typically notice or anything.
"Found you!" you screech excitedly as you pull out your umbrella and brandish it at the sky. The man beside you flinches, like you're about to attack him, and you give him a disdainful look.
"S-sorry," he mutters, the brim of his hat still hiding his eyes. "I thought you meant something else."
Something else? Is he on the run from the mob, or fleeing the national military? The incredibility of either prospect nearly makes you snicker, but whatever, you need to get home before the storm gets –
BOOM!
– worse.
The thunderclap makes both of you jump, and you wince at the realization that the rain is coming down even harder. Unforgiving sheets of water pour down, and you can barely see even a few feet past the awning. Maybe you can get an Uber instead…
You pull out your phone to see no bars. No data, no phone signal, nothing. The guy next to you is shivering even more violently now, and you internally sigh. You can't just ignore him, not when helplessness is wafting off him in tenebrous waves.
"Do you have a ride coming?" you ask reluctantly, wishing you had been raised to be more selfish. Your mother does whatever the hell she wants, why hasn't she taught you the same? Though, to be fair, she probably would have been able to get the rain to stop by glaring. Perhaps someday, in your final form, you'll be just as powerful.
The man wilts and shakes his head, and you’re alarmed when you hear a sniffle. Shit, you are not equipped to handle a crying man. You're not even equipped to handle your own emotions.
"I – I left rehearsal because I had a fight with my hyung," the guy begins to share, morosely wiping his face with a wet hand that only leaves more moisture behind. His voice quivers, and despite your misgivings, the piteous sight of him tugs at your heartstrings. "And now I'm lost. I only have my phone, and it’s useless right now."
You start to feel a little sympathy for someone who's clearly been having a bad day. You're about to offer to share your umbrella to the nearest train station when he finally looks straight at you, meeting your eyes for the first time.
The patch of skin behind your ear suddenly tingles and–
Oh.
Oh.
The rain falls, lightning cracks, and your stomach drops in time with the crash of thunder that follows. Yet you can barely hear it over the sudden pounding of your heartbeat.
"Do you… Could you… If it's not too much trouble, could I walk with you to the train station?" Jeon Jungkook pleads, large doe-eyes gazing brilliantly at you from half of an unmistakable face.
This… is why you felt like bringing an umbrella today? Because of the universe and its cosmic–fucking–intervention?
The man across you fidgets, growing self-conscious as he waits for your answer. For a few long seconds, all you can do is stare numbly at him.
Are you going to have to assume every man you run into these days is one of your soulmates? How is this even possible?
You reach your decision in less than a minute.
Dejectedly, you hold out your umbrella wordlessly to Jungkook, and his face lights up. His smile does something unspeakable to your heart that you refuse to acknowledge. His expression scrunches – cutely, to your dismay – in confusion when you just hand him the umbrella. You shove a few crumpled bills from your back pocket into his free hand, careful not to touch his skin, and he looks completely baffled.
"For the train fare," you manage to choke out, already backing away into the unforgiving rain. It's coming down so hard the pelting drops almost hurt, but this is infinitely preferable to whatever the fuck the alternative is.
"What…? No! You don't have to – I just wanted to share – "
"It's fine!" you call over your shoulder, already twenty meters away and sopping wet in the opposite way to what the universe was probably trying to contrive. "Just get home safe! I'm sure your hyung is worried!"
With that you're off, leaving a very confused and equally charmed idol behind. Jungkook stares after the strange, kind girl, wondering why it feels like you're running away.
Pondering, he scratches the tattoo behind his ear.
He’s just about to run after you, but then his phone buzzes in his pocket, and he opens it in surprise to see a wall of text messages.
How odd. The signal bars are full now.
At the influx of messages from his hyungs, his argument with Jimin at the rehearsal studio floods back into his mind, and Jungkook sniffles again and dials the familiar number.
"What do you want?" answers a grumbling Jimin, filling Jungkook's chest with guilt.
"Hyung, I'm so sorry!" Jungkook cries, blubbering in earnest now, the familiar voice opening the floodgates until his tears almost match the tempest around him.
"Don't call me!" his hyung scolds, clearly still angry. And yet, he picked up the call when he could have just ignored him. Jungkook hears Jimin sigh, the sound static and long. "Fine. Where are you?"
"I don't know," Jungkook whimpers as another crack of lightning cleaves the air. Thunder follows soon after, and he hopes that you're okay, wherever you've gone.
“What do you mean you ‘don’t know’?!” Jimin demands, suddenly all love, all worry. "Tell me where you are and I'll come get you."
Ah… warmth. This is what his team has taught him: brotherhood, love, and family. To be angry, to piss each other off, but in the end be willing to drop everything to help one another.
Something the stranger had done despite having no need to.
"I don't know where I am," Jungkook replies, already feeling a little better. "But I'll take a taxi home. S-someone gave me some money."
"Come safely. I'll wait outside for you."
Before Jungkook can protest, Jimin hangs up. The maknae can't help but smile despite how stressful the day has been. Between his team members and the kindness of the girl from earlier, his chest feels warm and fuzzy, driving away the cold and the gloom of the gray skies and icy rain.
He just wishes he had gotten your name.
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Fuck.
You wake with a head full of cotton and a nose more clogged than a toilet at an American WacDonald's. Feeling like death, you drag yourself out of bed to the bathroom, force yourself into a scalding hot shower that – for a blessed moment – clears your sinuses. You get ready for work, and by the time you're ready, you at least look put together, though inside you're already wishing you could crawl back under your covers.
Any other time, you might have taken a day off to not inflict your coworkers with your germs, but today is that stupid executive meeting and you can't afford to miss it.
You pop some cold medicine into your mouth, mask up, and get to work early, because despite your utter lack of care when it comes to your personal life, you are a demon in the office.
"[Y/n]!" calls Mijoo, one of your favorite administrative assistants. It's for that reason and that reason alone that you pull your head away from your screen to give her a smile she probably can't see through the cloth of your mask.
"Hey," you greet, clearing your throat and relieved you haven't hit the "uncontrollable cough" stage of your cold yet. "What's going on?"
"Soonyoung is freaking out about something again," she replies quietly, casting her eyes over to the corner office where your Senior Vice-President resides.
You're not sure if he ever actually leaves the building.
You sigh. This is a big project, one that is being presented to the company execs, and you really need everything to go perfectly. It's a good thing you got here early.
"When I finish here, I'll go talk to him," you say reluctantly, making Mijoo shoot you a smile of relief.
After you've confirmed that everything should as expected, you push off your desk, letting your chair roll backwards. Then you slip your feet back into your heels, stand, and give a lazy stretch of your limbs before heading to put out the fire, rolling your shoulders as you do so.
Through the glass surrounding the door, you can see your VP frowning at his computer screen, gray brows knit in some sort of frustration. You knock twice, and he looks up, still frowning. It vanishes as soon as he realizes it's you, and with a grin he beckons you inside.
"[Y/n]! Thank goodness," he said in a relieved voice, already angling his monitor so that you can see. "I can't get VLOOKUP to work!"
You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something you shouldn't, instead ambling over to help the dinosaur who is (hopefully) planning on retiring soon. Why is someone so high up even messing with spreadsheets, anyway? You barely have time to do any hands-on work at this point, and all you manage is your own team.
"It's tricky," you agree fondly, humoring him not because you have to, but because he kind of reminds you of your grandpa. "Here, let me help."
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Your next meeting also has an unusually high number of execs, and you frown as you recall the vague wording of the invite. You settle in a chair next to your work friend slash rival Jaesung, who looks just as confused as you feel.
"Any idea what this 'very important meeting' is about?" you whisper in his direction, and he shakes his head.
"No clue, but there are rumors that there's something big coming up," he whispers back. The two of you are unable to speculate any further, however, as your CEO appears. What the hell?
By the time the meeting ends, you are torn between laughing and crying hysterically. The execs have announced the planned launch of a top secret flagship product, one that the company is expecting massive returns on due to a collaboration with – because this is your life now – motherfucking BTS.
And then VP Soonyoung stands, looks at you and Jaesung proudly, and says that as two of his best people, you will be spearheading the marketing and sales efforts. He adds, with an elderly jovial laugh, “Both of you will even get the chance to meet them, so go get your autograph plaques ready!”
As if you needed to be disincentivized!
"You’re so lucky!" wails Mijoo as you sit in your cube, where you have been staring woodenly at your computer screen for over five minutes now. She thinks you're in joyful shock, and maybe, it definitely is shock. The electric chair kind.
It's bad enough that you had to spend an entire wonderful excruciating evening with Hoba – Hoseok – and he is now aware of your existence, even if he hasn't realized you're soulmates. But now this?
You mull over filing for your immediate resignation, which only adds to your headache. Eventually, you conclude that your time and compensation package from Samsong are just too good, too unbeatable, and… you’ve grown as a professional here. People respect you, value you for you, and you absolutely love working with your personally curated team.
The problem is the universe keeps testing your limits. Executive meetings? Easy. Flagship product development? Doable with the right people. But passionate, self-consuming cosmic schemes involving the world’s biggest boy band in the guise of soulmateship?
You’d rather get hit by a car.
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The universe hates me.
That is your last thought as you hear the squeal of tires on pavement and the frantic honks of a car horn before you're suddenly staring up at the sky, pain flaring throughout your entire body.
A man gets out of the black Hyundai Palisade with tinted windows, and you suddenly wish that you had been truly run over with no hope of recovery. Of course it's Kim fucking Namjoon of BTS, and he's looking at you in a mixture of panic and concern that makes your heart flutter despite your best efforts.
"Oh my god, are you okay?" he asks, to which part of your brain thinks, What a fucking idiot of course I'm not. The other half stupidly admires the broad set of his shoulders, the strange mixture of grace and clumsiness as he stumbles over to your battered body.
Wait.
You return to your senses, and begin to push yourself back up to your feet.
"Yep, totally fine!" you insist through gritted teeth, ignoring the way one of your legs is twisted awkwardly, and the flare of agony that permeates your body when you're able to bring yourself upright. "It was my fault anyway!"
It wasn't, but you're not going to stick around to let this play out.
You begin to limp away as fast as your contorted ankle allows, ignoring the flabbergasted expression on Namjoon's handsome face.
"I – can I at least pay for your medical bills?" he asks as he takes a tentative step after you. You hobble faster despite the burning pain in your legs.
"It's fine!" you call behind you, getting a regrettable glimpse of his beautiful, worried eyes. "South Korea has universal healthcare coverage!"
Unfortunately, you can only wobble so fast until the physically fit, able-bodied man catches up to you. By this point, your vision is fuzzing with strange dotted lights and your body doesn't feel quite real anymore. Namjoon's hand touches your shoulder, and you turn around to tell him off. Instead, you feel your legs buckle and strong arms catch you before everything goes black.
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"You keep appearing in unexpected places, and often." Jimin swallows, his heart beginning to race. "Your skin is always covered up. You don't eat or drink anything when I'm around."
He takes a deep breath, knowing you're just a step behind him.
"How old are you?"
You hesitate – just barely – before you reply.
"Twenty-five."
"... How long have you been twenty-five?"
"A few months."
A few months. A few months since he's moved into your apartment complex. A few months since the strange not-quite-ennui and melancholy has begun plaguing him. A few months since you have turned of age to manifest your soulmate connection.
"I know what you are."
He feels your body tense behind him, and a thrill runs down his spine. When you speak, he can feel your breath on his neck.
"Say it."
“Soulma–”
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Kim Namjoon looks anxiously at the nurse checking your vitals as you lay prone on the hospital bed, wishing he could do more to help.
"I think – I think she might have hit her head," he offers, for the tenth time, thinking about the way you had tried to run away on what the nurse is reasonably certain is a badly sprained ankle. The nurse gives him a tight smile, because one does not simply roll their eyes at the leader of Bangtan Sonyeondan, no matter how many times he's said the same thing.
"We'll check for it," the nurse promises, soothing the tall man. For the time being.
Namjoon chews on his lip as he gazes at you, wondering what your story is, what kind of past would drive you to such strange lengths.
For some reason, he itches to hold your hand, but that would be completely inappropriate from a total stranger. Especially when it could cause dating rumors if anyone gets a glimpse or a picture. His manager is already going to kill him for chasing down an injured girl in broad daylight.
His eyes keep getting drawn back to your face, peaceful in sleep and – dare he say it – quite pretty. Very pretty. Beautiful, even. And you had felt so soft and nice in his arms, warm and –
"Sir, please stay seated while I finish here," comes the nurse's tired voice, and Namjoon realizes he's gotten up and has an arm outstretched to stroke your cheek.
"Uh, sorry," he stutters, face burning as he sits back down. What the hell is wrong with him? Why does he feel drawn to this very strange, very lovely girl?
A soft groan tears Namjoon out of his spiraling thoughts, and his gaze shoots to your form as your eyelids flutter open.
"Wha – " you ask blearily, waking up from the weirdest parody dream of the world’s best vampire movie ever. Shifting in your bed, pain contorts your face and you let out a hiss. "Ow!"
Namjoon rushes over, and your mouth drops open when you realize who he is. Before you can react, he's holding your hand in his, and he staggers as something in the universe fundamentally shifts. By your gasp, you're experiencing a similar sensation, and you yank your hand out of his grip before he can get his bearings.
"Your leg seems severely strained," the nurse explains, blissfully unaware of the way the world is tumbling around the both of you. "We'll need to do x-rays to make sure it’s not broken."
"I'll… get a wheelchair…" Namjoon says, in a daze, desperate to be of help even as his mind races to understand what is going on. He stumbles outside of the room, desperately hoping that a moment alone will help him get his thoughts in order and help him find the right questions to ask.
Apparently these are questions he won't receive answers to any time soon, because by the time he's back, the room is empty. The nurse follows after him, and looks around in confusion.
"Where'd she go?" the nurse asks, and Namjoon wishes he knew the answer. Who are you? Why are you so hellbent on getting away from him?
And why does holding your hand feel like home?
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That was too close. Too fucking close.
You pull yourself onto the bus by the railing, ignoring the driver's confused, concerned expression as he takes in your hospital gown and the way you're wincing in pain. You swipe your card, only vaguely aware that everyone behind you can see your rump through the poorly tied flaps of the gown.
It's fine. Your dignity is unimportant compared to the bulletproof boy scout you just dodged.
You drag yourself to a handicapped seat – if there's ever a time you can confidently sit in one, it's now – and fall into it, finding an angle for your leg that gives some sort of relief.
Despite the pain, it's the warm feeling in your hand you can't stop thinking about.
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Kim Namjoon is at a loss.
Despite searching the entire hospital, the mysterious girl was nowhere to be found, vanishing from the premises as if she were never there. Still, out of personal guilt and liability, Namjoon lingered, offering to settle the missing girl’s hospital expenses, but the charge nurse expertly dismissed his generosity once it became apparent that he did not know you at all. He couldn’t even give them your name, or any proof of relation, and the rest of the staff quickly became tight-lipped around him.
Even Kim Namjoon, the illustrious 148 IQ leader of BTS, can’t argue against health privacy laws.
Since leaving his phone number with the charge nurse – his final, desperate effort – Namjoon has been staring at his phone, waiting for any news about you… news that simply never comes.
That same evening, he walks into the band’s shared dormitory with aplomb.
Single-minded, he heads straight for the living room and picks up the remote control off of the coffee table.
The flatscreen TV goes dark, and Kim Taehyung complains, “Hyung, no! What gives!”
Jungkook cries in offense, shooting up from the sofa, “My vampire baseball scene!”
Namjoon deigns them both with a long-suffering look. “We need to talk, so call the team.”
His assertive voice, usually reserved for critical matters and scolding, makes Taehyung and Jungkook abandon their emotional support movie in favor of gathering the rest of the group.
One by one, the boys pile into the living room from separate parts of the apartment at Namjoon’s behest. Most of them are sporting rumpled clothes and bedheads, save for Jimin, who looked ready to leave for his own place.
Namjoon announces, “There’s something I want to discuss. A… possibility.” He clears his throat. “A girl.”
"That's what you interrupted our movie for?" Taehyung asks, indignant. "A crush?"
Hoseok lets out an immediate sigh of relief. “Is that it?” And then he pauses, scratching at his nape, “Well, me too, I guess.”
Jimin’s eyes brighten. “No way, hyungs! Me too!”
When Jin, Jungkook, and Taehyung concede that they've also had a run-in with a very memorable girl recently, a new suspicion blooms in the back of Namjoon's mind.
Could they be talking about the same girl?
Though unlikely, he decides to ask, “Did any of you manage to get her name?”
Jin nods, seriously. “G0d$l@yeR_69.”
Namjoon shoots him another long-suffering look.
Hoseok stays silent, if only because his memories of you are one of the few non-idol centered things he still holds onto. Besides, his girl can’t possibly be their girl, too. The odds of that happening would be astronomical.
It's not so wrong to want to keep one aspect of his life to himself… right?
“Sorry, I… I didn’t get her name,” Jimin lies, for the same reason Hoseok keeps quiet. Besides, even if Jin is interested in you, Jimin's your neighbor! He should get first dibs! He's not going to give up your name so his handsome, charismatic hyung can find you and woo you before Jimin even has a chance to try.
"What's this important meeting about?" asks Min Yoongi, walking into the room with a mug of coffee in hand.
"A girl," Jungkook replies, somewhat dreamily, remembering the guardian angel that saved him that rainy day. Yoongi rolls his eyes and immediately turns around to leave despite Namjoon's protests. He has more important things to do than sit around gossiping, especially since he has a meeting with Samsong tomorrow about their new collaboration.
There's a hubbub behind him, a thump, and a curse from the ungainly leader as Namjoon's prized George Nakashima coffee table claims yet another victim. Yoongi's toe throbs, and he sighs.
"There's a first-aid kit in my room." He calls over his shoulder as he goes. "Knock yourselves out."
Far away, in a clinic near your apartment where your ankle is being put into a brace, you sneeze.
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edgeray · 4 months ago
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HI, first of all, i love your write so much 💕💕💕💕💕, you're so creative, please, as long as you feel good writing, write!!! You are very good at it, and you feed Arle stans so weel.
Second, did you by any chance watched bridgerton ? If not, just ignore it, it's more to give a historical context (and dresses in beautiful scenery, for sure). Bridgerton is a period show (and books) that takes place at the beginning of the 19th century (1810-1820) [Although, I think Arlecchino would fit even more within the context of the Victorian age, but I think it might be an idea saved for another request]. Given the context, I believe my request becomes clearer :
Arlecchino who pretends to be a man (dressing and acting like one) to get married to the reader.
It's not news to anyone that Arlecchino is part of a powerful nobility family and it's also not news to anyone that she hates playing the female role given to her (and I can't imagine her wearing the fluffy dress ever!!!!), so seeing her childhood best friend become the diamond of the season (basically the favorite debutant of the season for both the queen and the suitors, in a very short way) She realizes that she needs to enter the marriage market too, in this case to fight for your hand.
Please feel free to change any part of the order, I don't want this to become boring for you to write.
So thank you for share your works and read it, (can i?) 🪷anon.
Courting a Lie
(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader)
A/N- Of course you can be 🪷 anon! Thank you for your kind words. I aim to feed. Arle for everyone!! Sorry that this is super late… I will assume the reader is female for this because a debutant is a woman. Also didn't know how to make it GN! since there's no gender neutral aristocratic titles as far as I know. Sorry GN! readers :(  While I haven't watched Bridgerton, from your description of the era, I've read quite a few manhwas set in a European aristocratic society that sounds just like this. I get the general gist of what you're saying from those manhwas so I drew some inspiration from there.  I've never really written for a historical fiction AU so we shall see how this goes. Apologies in advance if it is cringe. I did change a few things for the plot, but not because it was boring, more because of my own plot/backstory building. I actually had a lot of fun researching random bits for this request, and this request is among my most developed and thoughtful works on Tumblr! Still don't know how to dialogue though… I really liked writing this kind of setting so I would be pretty happy if a part 2 of this was requested... how did I do in terms of writing this? hopefully not too far from bridgerton?   Content warnings / info - arlecchino is referred to as a man and uses masculine pronouns for a little bit, 2.0k words
You don't quite remember what occasion it was when you first met her. Perhaps it was a charity ball or some celebration. Either way, you were at most eight years of age when you met your first friend, a quiet, petite child hiding in the corner of the Snezhevna Estate's garden, ducked nearby a bush. You wandered away from the garden party, as you couldn't find any other children your age that weren't pestering, so you explored the edges, admiring the flowers. 
You stumbled upon a white haired child, with her white dress sullied by her kneeling on the dirt. Similarly, her pale hands were soiled, as if she had dug into the earth with her fingers alone. You nearly gasped at the sight–no lady would ruin their dress so carelessly, especially a dress seemingly adorned as hers. Nevertheless, you were in awe of the courage to do so. Was it possible she wasn't educated well? It'd be damaging to her family's reputation if anyone were to see the condition of her apparel.
You approached her carefully, your voice small in hopes that you wouldn't sound rude. 
“Hello,” you greeted first, and the child turned her head over her shoulder, gazing at you. 
Your breath hitched as you glanced at her eyes, each black pit filled with a red cross in the center that made you suppose she didn't fit into any aristocratic family. You didn't know of any noble family that had such eyes, and it's only been known from noble families to hold particular sets of eyes. Did this girl really belong to nobility? 
“I know I'm not supposed to be in the dirt. Now leave me alone,” she says before turning away, her voice sounding far too monotone and androgynous for you to consider her a young noble lady. Nonetheless, the clear difference between her and the other guests of the function intrigued you. She was educated, or at least it seemed like it, but she had a disregard for creating a good impression. You ignored her request, instead, plopping yourself down beside her to see what it was in the dirt she was so interested in. 
“What are you digging in the dirt for?” You asked. She slumped, as if irritated by your persisted presence. 
“I'm looking for bugs. So go away, unless you want a spider on you,” she warned without looking at you, with the evident expectation her threat would ward you away. 
It did not, in fact, deter you. If anything, you pressed on, your expression contorting to that of fascination. “What kind of bugs?”
That seemed to snatch the young girl's attention as she turned to you, widened eyes as she observed you, searching your face for any lies. She couldn't believe that there was someone else who could be so ‘lady-like.’ Her apathy returns shortly after, and she glances back at the mound of dirt before her. 
“Young ladies aren't supposed to be interested in pests or dirtying their hands,” the white-haired child states, but it seems more like a recital of someone else's words. 
“Maybe. But it's fun, right?” You replied, offering her a small smile.
Although she still didn't face you, you watched her eyes gleam with life. Your grin grew in accordance. 
“So… you like bugs?” She questioned as she cups a worm she managed to uproot. 
“No way. Not touching them,” you shutted her down immediately and she pouted as you shook your head vigorously. 
“But… I thought you were better company than those other kids. So… I hope you don't mind having me too much?” you sheepishly remarked, wincing a bit at your apparent nervousness. In response, the girl huffed, gracing you with a faint smile. The sight sent flutters through your stomach, filling you with a rush of giddiness you never felt before. 
“Just don't scream, okay?” Is all she answered back.
And that was how you befriended the bastard daughter of the Snezhevna family. Since then, the two of you have been exchanging letters, and met each other at every possible social gathering in secret. Although your family discouraged meeting her so often, you ignored them. However, when you had just turned twelve, her letters stopped, as if she disappeared. You asked Marchioness Crucabena about her daughter, and all you received from the matriarch was a cold cut message: Peruere was receiving ‘education’ for indefinitely. 
Your heart sunk as you crinkled the letter in your hands, tears welling in your eyes at the thought of never seeing your dear friend again. Where had Peruere gone? You hastily wrote another letter, inquiring more about the education or if Peruere could write you back, but the Marchioness would not indulge you with additional information, essentially telling you to mind your business and to stop writing to her. 
You remember weeping into your pillows for the entire night until your eyes dried up, red and puffy from rubbing them constantly. You were haunted by memories of star gazing, of laying on the garden grass, of lounging in one another's arms. Your few moments of bliss were gone forever, stripped away with her absence. 
— 
Pureure always wished she wasn't born into a noble family. Aristocratic society was tedious and pretentious. Why her father ever chose to engage with something as disgusting as the Marchioness, it most definitely wasn't out of love–a fabled concept among nobles really. Peruere knew little of what happened to the late Marquess–his death was caused by a carriage accident–but she knew her birth father was with the Marchioness after the death. 
Regardless, between her and her half-sister Clervie, the Marchioness deemed Peruere better fitted as the heir of the family. In Peruere's opinion, Clervie would have made an impressive matriarch. However, when she inquired Clervie about it, her sister vehemently rejected the notion, wanting to remain carefree as she always was. For as heedless as her older sister was, she would be the model of a noblewoman, the favorite debutante had she wanted to take on the aristocratic responsibilities. In any case, Marchioness Crucabena always had a noticeable distaste for the two of them and Peruere suspected it was because she had no sons and marrying once more would mean losing the inheritance of her late husband. 
Peruere soon learned why exactly she was chosen as the next heir. It was easier for her to pose as a male rather than Clervie in order to appease the Marchioness. Added with Peruere's bastard status, few people knew of her existence, or more so, her familial ties with the Marchioness. With the Marchioness’s ‘education’ Peruere, the bastard daughter with a commoner surname, was transformed into Arlecchino Snezhevna, a bastard son with the Snezhevna surname, and so inheritor of the Marquess title. Pereure was erased effectively in the span of six years. 
Because Arlecchino was a bastard son, that label would have made it difficult to impose herself among other noblemen, and most especially, marry another powerful family. In that sense, what she could not make up in legitimacy, she had to make up in other qualities as a noble. Her hours, from dawn to dusk, consisted of history, economy, and art lessons, etiquette and mannerisms classes, 
and learning various skills such as conversational, dancing, equestrian, fencing, and hunting. Obtaining any length of slumber came few and far, and when rest was finally permitted, her body often ached too much for her to drift.
Instead, she laid conscious at night, her head tilted towards the window, the stars winking back at her. Her thoughts returned to you, as they always have during her respites, and she would wonder again and again if you were looking at the same night sky as she was, reminiscing over memories of stargazing. She often raised her hands to her eyes, the only question lingering in her mind would be if you would recognize these hands if she met you again, the same hands that held you. Alone in her chambers, Arlecchino, no Peruere, promised that she would meet you again, and maybe, this time she would never have to leave your side again. 
She only hoped that she would be good enough for you. 
Your heart is thumping rapidly against your chest while your clammy and fidgety hands grasp onto the gloved hand of your dance partner, maintaining deep breaths and keeping your composure as best as possible. You match the steps of the bachelor gracefully and diligentfully, feeling many spectators’ gazes on your back. It’s both invigorating and exhausting to realize that you are the diamond of the season. Receiving this many dance requests is a good sign, yes, but it only means that you are creeping closer to having to choose a suitor.
And inevitably lose Peruere forever. 
You quickly snap out of your thoughts in order to further entertain your dance partner with small talk, and finally the dance ends. 
“Thank you, Earl Childe. It was a pleasure dancing with you. You make an excellent dancer,” you offer the young redhead a beaming expression. 
“You're quite one yourself. I quite enjoyed our time. Perhaps we could dance more privately at a later date?” The sauve bachelor replies back, matching your practiced smile with a cocky one. 
“Perhaps,” is all you say, and thankfully the bachelor walks away. 
You let out a sigh of relief, but it seems you thought too soon, as another set of footsteps approach you from behind. Turning around, you’re met with perhaps the most refined and handsome gentleman you've graced your eyes upon. Immediately, you feel your cheeks swell and you feel unnaturally timid. Sincere red-crossed eyes meet yours, and a faint, charming smile stretches on the lips of the nearing bachelor.
“May I have this dance, Lady [F/N]?” He offers his hand gracefully, and you take his. 
“I haven't introduced myself, pardon me. I am, Earl Arlecchino, Earl of Snezhevna,” he introduces himself with a knowing smile, or rather, she introduces herself as your face contort to that of shock at the mention of her family name. You halt as she initiates the dance, her grin growing as fondness spreads over her facial expression.
“Peruere?” You whisper as you reach out, placing a hesitant hand on her shoulder, your other gloved hand in hers. Her body warmth bleeds through the contact, and you sense it flow through your entire body. 
“It's Arlecchino, for appearances. I trust you won't expose me?” Peruere says, her eyes scanning over your entire form in awe. “You're… I don't quite have enough words to describe you. You're utterly beautiful.” 
You flush at the compliment before you forcefully tear yourself away from the bubbling giddiness within you, nodding at her first question. Your face attempts to appear stern and angry, but your eyes sabotage that. “I missed you… dearly. Where have you gone? Why didn't you write to me? I kept waiting for you…” 
Peruere's face softens, morphing to one of regret and sympathy. “I haven't stopped thinking of you either. My mother demanded I suddenly take lessons on how to be a nobleman, and with that, I was no longer Peruere, but Arlecchino. During that time, I had to endure everything my mother gave me, and I hardly had time to sleep. I have tried to send you some, but I suspected that the Marchioness meticulously checked what was sent and received. I've kept a pile of letters that I wrote for you, so you would be able to read everything I had to say over the years.” 
You inhale slowly before nodding, understanding her words. “You kept plaguing my dreams, Arlecchino. You don't know how long I've wanted to see you. Please… never leave me again. I don't think I can bear being without you again.” 
It's Arlecchino's turn to be surprised. “You… Are you asking me what you think you're asking me?” She breathlessly inquires, her voice on the edge of exhilaration, and you give her a hopeful smile. 
You nod. “I… I always thought you were the one since we were little. I didn't want to spend my time with anyone else. So… can you be beside me again?” 
Peruere nearly melts at your request. “As long as you'll allow me another dance.” 
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justalittledumb · 10 months ago
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How would Yandere! Ancient cookies go about sharing you?
🍪 Congratulation! Not only did you somehow manage to get some of most powerfull cookies out there to fall for you, but also managed to get them not to kill each other over you. So... What now?
🍪 Well, they share you of course! Specificly they pass you around their kingdoms, every month you are in a diffrent one.
🍪 It's not Perfect, it requires a lot of Traveling to be done, but it's better than having them fight. Besides you don't realy have a choice
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⚪ First 2 Months (2 becouse there's 2 of them) you spend with Pure Vanilla and White Lily. (I put these two together since White Lily doesn't have her own kingdom)
🟡 Pure Vanilla is on the more Overprotective side of things, constantly making sure you are comfortable and healing any injuries you might have somehow gained, no matter how small they are.
⚪ White Lily on the other hand is Possessive of you, of course just like Pure Vanilla she also is protective of you, but not nearly as much. She will make sure that nobody that doesn't HAVE to see you, won't.
🟡 Both of the cookies refuse to give you any privacy for your entire forced stay with them.
⚪ You are constantly with at least one of the pair, and even that's rare. If it's possible both of them will make sure you are at arm's lenght at all time.
🟡 It's also rare that you'l get to leave the castle. They are PARANOID about your safety, it doesn't matter that Vanilla Kingdom is Has Basicly no threats.
⚪ You are also forced to share bed with them, every night you are sandwiched between the 2 cookies, and believe me, they will CLING to you during sleep.
🟡 Escape is impossible, just don't even try, you won't get anywhere. Even if you somehow manage to escape the 2 cookies, the entire kingdom is constantly floating in the air, so unless you are ready to take the plunge, you wouldn't make it far.
🟡⚪ Overall, your stay at Vanilla Kingdom isn't good... But Hey, it always could be worse, right?
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🔴 After you're not so pleasant stay with Pure Vanilla and White Lily, you are sent directly to Hollyberry Cookie.
🔴 In Hollyberry kingdom you will have the most freedom. While the kingdom's ruler is very much protective with you, she is more than confident in her ability to protect you.
🔴 The thing that makes her diffrent from other yanderes is that she won't try to hide you, quite contrary realy. She will show you off to everyone she can!
🔴 Hollyberry will also allow you to roam around her kingdom freely, you can go anywhere and talk with anyone you want! As long as you won't try to escape or flirt with anyone that is. It's almost enough to make you forget you are Basicly held captive.
🔴 She will also want you to meet her grand child, Princess Cookie! She is sure she'l love you ;)
🔴 Hollyberry Cookie will even give you your own room for your stay! Isn't that just so considerate of her? :) Ignore the fact its positioned right next to her's.
🔴 When it come to escaping... Well you definitly have a better shot at it here than in Vanilla Kingdom. Chances of succes aren't hight mind you, and even if you do manage to escape who's to say you manage to bit get caught again? She might even Ask Pitaya dragon for a small Favor if she fails to get you back for longer enough.
🔴 Either way, the stay at Hollyberry Kingdom is not too bad! Or at least no too bad when compared to others. Who knows, maybe you'l even manage to relax and forget you are essentialy trapped?
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⚫ Next in the "getting to have Y/N over in their kingdom" line is Dark Cacao Cookie.
⚫ Dark Cacao Cookie like most of his friends is Overprotective and Possessive.
⚫ He doesn't want to lose you, whether it's to you escaping or getting hurt it doesn't matter, he will protect you. Even from yourself.
⚫ His protectivnes is actually somewhat justified, the Terrain where Dark cacao kingdom is placed isn't the safest place out there
⚫ He only allows his most trusted subjects to get near you, and Has them keep an eye on you whenever he can't do it himself.
⚫ Speaking of which, Dark Cacao Cookie makes you spend most of your time in his kingdom close to him, while he isn't very touchy he enjoys being this close to you.
⚫ He probably would make you wear a crown (Is it a crown? Well It look like one.) similiar to his one.
⚫ Escape altho theoreticaly not impossible, would be extremely difficult. There are many cookies patrolling the surrounding area, all of which are loyal to their ruler.
⚫ The stay at Dark Cacao Kingdom isn't very pleasuarble to say the least, but Hey there some positives. I mean, maybe you'l manage to befriend some of the cookies that were meant to keep an eye on you. They won't help you escape of course, but its always nice to have someone to talk to!
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🟠 Finaly after staying with dark Cacao for a month you get to (by "get to" i mean are forced to) move once again. This time to Golden Cheese kingdom.
🟠 Golden Cheese Cookie is well... Greedy, and she doesn't want to share you or your attention with anyone else.
🟠 From the very moment you'l step into her kingdom she'l shower you in expensive gifts and other riches.
🟠 She'l force you to change whatever clothes you were wearing to ones that match her clothes.
🟠 Golden Cheese Cookie WILL show you off, but she wants your attention to only be on her and her alone.
🟠 She will always keep you close, no matter what she's doing. or if you even want to be close to her.
🟠 No one other than her is allowed to touch you, they can look all they want, but privilage of having phisical contact with you is only for her.
🟠 You also aren't given your own room, you are simply forced to share with her.
🟠 You won't escape, there just is no way when she is constantly right next to you. And even if you try to make a run for it. She can fly, and even (and that's extremly unlikely) you manage to escape from her kingdom, good luck getting through the dessert surrounding it.
🟠 Altho constantly being under her survailance isn't the most enjoyable thing, its always important to find the best in bad sitiations. In this case "the best" is the fact that Golden Cheese is more than happy to give you anything you want aside from freedom of course she won't give you anything you could use to help you escape, but it's still nice.
🍪 And so the cycle begins again, after the month you spent In Golden Cheese kingdom, you are once again transported to Vanilla Kingdom. The whole cycle will continue repeating over and over again for the rest of your life. Well, unless you somehow do manage to escape...
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My first cookie run set of headcanons! I realy enjoyed writing these! And from now on I'l be also taking requests for Cookie run :3
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