#i dont think i have enough to do that but what if.....
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vintagepresley · 6 hours ago
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I’m almost done with it. I’ll be honest.. I only read this book because Cooper Koch loves this book and way how beautiful it is and he may be playing Jude if they actually decide to make a movie about it which I heard is possibly happening. So I’m like hmmm he keeps talking about this book and the cover caught my eye. I did a little research on it and saw a lot… ALOT of people hated it. But I just took that as people on TikTok being dramatic as always.
This book is so traumatic, tragic, painful, sad and had my emotions everywhere. I’ve never cried so much reading a book. Then I decided to see what everyone thought of it on TikTok and just doing research. I’m seeing everyone call it trauma porn and all these other things. I’ll be honest. Would I classify this book as beautiful? No. Do I understand why people describe it that way? Definitely. But it’s not beautiful to me. It’s just heartbreaking. It’s a wonderfully written book and the story and how it’s told is phenomenal. But it’s so tragic that I can’t define it as beautiful. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it or the characters. Thinking about it makes me cry.
But I don’t hate it? I think the reason why is because there are so many people out there going through what Jude had experienced and what he was experiencing with the aftermath of those things in his adulthood. Now I’m not saying these exact scenarios are happening to people. But these things do happen. The child prostitution, the child sexual abuse, physical abuse. Rape. How people deal with it, I feel sometimes is similar to how Jude was dealing with it. Refusing to see a therapist, the cutting, thinking he’s not good enough or doesn’t deserve love because he thinks he’s disgusting or that people think he is. Not being able to open up because of the fear of people seeing you differently. His difficulties with sex and his relationships with the people around him. All of that I think is what made me emotional because all I could think about is the people out there who are or who have been through this. Then myself being a victim of sexual abuse.
I think that’s what made it hard for me to hate it. Because once I saw everyone hating it.. I’m like why? This is stuff that’s happening to people. Stuff that people are dealing with and we don’t even know it because some people are afraid to talk about it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t understand why people DO hate it. It’s fucking wild to write as a book. Like who the fuck thinks of shit like this??? I also don’t agree with the authors opinions about how someone as traumatized as Jude should kill themselves and how she doesn’t really believe in therapy. That I think is the most ridiculous thing I heard. Therapy works if you allow it to work and you allow yourself to be open and vulnerable. Suicide doesn’t need to be the answer and a lot of times therapy has saved someone’s life. So the author I don’t really like. Cause girl what… I also don’t agree with this becoming a movie. No one wants to see this on film, it’s hard enough reading about it. I love Cooper Koch and I think he’d make a great Jude especially after seeing him as Erik Menendez. But I don’t want a movie about this book. WE DONT NEED THAT.
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nadianova · 3 days ago
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welcome to surprise nadia nova how to make a visual novel tutorial
you want to 100% use ren'py i dont make the rules
its straightforward enough that simply downloading, installing and hitting the "create new project" and spamming through the menu and then opening script.rpy to see the code which will tell you like 70% of what you need to make your first vn. there no need to be afraid just because the word 'code' was mentioned. ren'py's own language is just copy pasting stuff back and forth and inserting your own names and pictures. its nothing like C# or java or whatever languages exist cause i know jackshit about any of that and dont know how to do programming
anyway, inside the main script file, script.rpy, are commented instructions on how to name a character, place a sprite, place a background, and put in text and you can basically make a vn with these things. i can not stress it enough KEEP IT SIMPLE, especially if you're starting out. making things complicated or planning massive projects is just shooting yourself in the foot. better to make 2 minute game than get stuck trying to make a epic masterpiece
writing a story is its own thing. however anyone can write and its better to write a shit story than no story. that way you have something to build on and get more comfy with your own art process. its what me and everyone else who makes vns and any other art or skill or hobby have done too.
if you like what some other vn/manga/anime/story does copy it and smash these inspirations together to make your own thing. save pictures and lines you see that get you inspired if you need inspiration and references for your own story. everything in this world is inspired by other things someone else has made. its not stealing unless you get absurd and download someone elses game and take out half the assets and put them in your own game and pretend you didnt
if you have interest do yourself a favour and make a vn. as far as game development goes its one of the most accessible options out there . ren'py is an amazing engine having all the vn necessities already in place since that allows you to just focus on the story and not have to worry about setting things up yourself and scrambling with advanced code unless you really want to
i know the jam is just ending in the following weeks and depending on when you see this post this might be outdated as hell but my yurijam server is still going and will be going until people simmer out and something new shiny takes their attention. still, its a server an people post gay shit there occasionally even outside of jams so me and many others are helpful and like answering questions to help otehrs make stuff. so i think the best way is to join the server rn and just ask questions in the help channel. better to ask stupid questions than no questions
now go make a visual novel im holding a whip and making those scary crack sounds and aiming just close enough to your feet that youre almost convinced it hit you despite your jumping and dancing and DANCE NOW DANCE MAKE A VISUAL NOVEL DANCE GET TO IT MAKE A VISUAL NOVEL DO IT NOW OR ILL GET YOUR FACE NEXT MAKE A VISUAL NOV-
anyway but for real if you really are interested make a vn cause im holding a whip and making thOSE SCARY CR-
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mekakitsune · 3 days ago
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"what would everyone think if they could see you now, huh?" - sub!vi x kinda mean dom gn!reader nsfw - minors dni
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teeth and tongues clashed together in a messy, desperate haze. violet was laying beneath you, panting wildly into your mouth as you pinned her to the bed by her wrists. her cheeks were flushed and every now and then you could feel her desperately bucking her hips into you.
"fuck...i need you so bad...please." she panted, eyes wide when you pulled away from the heated kiss. "need t'fuck you..." she spoke quietly, her voice hoarse.
you all but laughed in her face, she started this, after all. "yeah? thats what youve wanted all along, isnt it?" you tease, free hand tracing down her bare chest, making her arch into your touch. "giving what you want is no fun, pretty girl." you eye her as you lean down to suck marks into the sensitive skin of her neck. another whimper leaves her lips as your teeth sink into her soft flesh, tongue soothing over the harsh marks you left behind.
"baby, fuck...m'sorry. i'll...hah...i'll be good. i'll be so good, please just fuckin' do something." she pleads, chest heaving under your touch.
ignoring her pleas, you speak– "what would everyone think if they could see you now, huh?" you lean close to her face, lips barely touching hers. a smirk grows on your lips as her breath hitches again, eyes watery and lips swollen.
"dont..." she closes her eyes, turning her head to avoid your gaze. your words worked her up beyond comprehension. she wanted nothing more than to take control, flip you over and fuck you into the mattress until you saw stars. but she didnt, something in her needed you to take control. needed you to take care of her, to put her in her place.
"look at me violet." your fingers find her chin, forcing her to face you. her eyes flutter open and its a sight to behold. she looks so, completely, fucked out. and you have yet to even touch her where she wants it.
her desperate eyes meet yours obediently, and you smile softly at her.
"youre so fucking needy." you bite despite your smile, clearly fed up with her whining. she whines again as you left yourself off of her hips, moving to slot yourself between her thighs. your fingers make quick work of her boxers– now soaked, you noted.
"keep em open baby, just like that" your hands find her thighs, spreading them rather harshly. you make sure you look her in her pretty eyes before your mouth meets her needy cunt. a shaky gasp falls from her lips as her fingers move to tangle themselves into your hair. you pull away as quick as you leaned into her, giving her a warning look.
"keep your hands to yourself, or i stop." fear of being left high and dry flashes in her eyes and she nods desperately, keeping her hands at her side.
"good girl.." you muttered, moving back down to suck at her clit. she whines helplessly above you, fists clenching by her side as you lap at her dripping pussy. she bucks softly into your face, and you push her down by her hips, the action making her moan out rather loudly. you continue to fuck her with your tongue, tracing lines from her hole to her clit, moaning softly to yourself at her taste. without giving her any sort of warning, you push a finger into her, making her hiss in pleasure. you move in and out, slowly, knowing it was no where near enough to push her over the edge.
"please..." she begs, fingers gripping the sheets harshly.
"so fuckin spoiled, yknow that?" you muttered into her cunt, the vibrations of your words making her eyes roll back and lips part once again.
you add another finger into her dripping h cunt and she just about loses it. her whines are so desperate and you can tell shes already close by the way shes squeezing around your fingers.
"please...fuck please lemme cum–" she blabbers, thighs tightening around your head, closing in enough that your hand has to move to pull them apart again.
"need to cum, baby? give it to me" you speak, voice full of greed. something akin to pride and possessiveness blooms in your chest at the thought of being the only one to make her like this, a whining, soaking mess.
her only response is a choked moan and her fingers finding you hair, despite your previous threats. her body trembles as she cums around your fingers, moaning out words incoherently.
you fuck her through it, and then some, making her gasp at the harsh overstimulation to her sensitive pussy.
"fuck baby...s'good, thats enough–" she groans, knowing deep down you had no plans of stopping. and that you dont, you continue to fuck her, tears now rolling down her pretty cheeks as she rolls her hips to meet your thrusts.
"needy slut, telling me to stop when you clearly don't want me to." you spoke, launched far into the unfamiliar headspace. your harsh words make her shudder, spilling another orgasm over your fingers and tongue. if you had the choice, youd keep her here like this, forever.
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tehe i needed to stop myself bc i really could have wrote this forever lol send me reqs for the arcane ladies + a prompt from the list i reblogged! id love to write em :3
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dreamertf · 1 day ago
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College Changes You
/includes: jock tf, getting handsomer, getting taller, gay to straight
Danny looked at Chris in shock. They hadn't seen each other in months, but they both had come back to their hometown for Thanksgiving. Since they were both in town, they decided to catch up over dinner.
Only the man in front of Chris wasn't the same 5'5" twiggy computer science major. The man in front of him was at least 6'3" nearly a foot taller than the old danny, and incredibly buff. Danny was never horrible looking to Chris but it was like a hollywood casting agent had replaced him. He was recognizable if you squinted enough, but the sharp jawline and giant brown eyes just drew you in.
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"So what have you been up to man?" Danny was the first to break the silence.
"Uh not much, just school yaknow...."
Chris couldn't stop staring at his huge pecs. Not fully being able to make conversation
"How about you?"
"Oh not much! Recently I invented a new device that lets me change the fabric of reality."
Dan said with a smile, casually. His sensual voice singled out in the loud restraunt, it was like it was the only thing that Chris could focus on.
Chris didn't know how to respond, he watched danny pull out a small device that looked much like a normal smartphone. He tapped a few things and put it back in his pocket.
Suddenly he grew a few more inches to 6'10". His aura becoming much more enchanting, like he was the only thing in the universe thay existed.
As the waitress came over, she couldn't help but only look at the muscular adonis and not Chris.
"What can i get started for you guys?" She said, only looking at Danny.
"Actually, i think we changed our mind, we're gonna go somewhere else. Thank you so much for your help, heres a tip."
Danny said as he got up, gesturing for Chris to do the same. Chris hadn't seen him at his full height yet, it was stange to see his once best friend be a full foot taller than his own 5'10"
The waitress couldnt stop blushing as she just nodded and walked away, as chris stood up he realized he was fully erect.
"Haha already gunnin for it huh?" Danny said as he smirked, flexing his pecs.
---
They walked around a nearby park, chris dumbfounded unable to speak by the giant hunk next to him.
"So, i actually came to meet you for a reason."
Danny wanted him? He couldn't believe it. Chris looked up at him, surprised and blushing.
They both stopped walking as danny held chris' hands.
"I want you to serve me, Chris."
Suddenly, the ground dropped from underneath him as he buckled into himself, pure bliss and euphoria came over him as he came right there.
His limbs elongated and his shoulder broadened as they filled out with muscle. He moaned as his voice dropped a few octaves.
"I want you to take on the persona of a dumb straight frat bro."
Chris clutched his head as he felt his hands grow bigger, his mind losing memories of being any sort of intellectual. He had gotten by with his looks and athletic ability alone, and thats all he needed.
He stood up as his package slithered down his newly formed sweatpants.
"Now look at me pretty boy."
Danny grabbed him by the jaw as his face reformed into a much more appealing form. His jawline sharpened as his eyes lightened. Cheekbones rising as his face became perfectly symmetrical. Danny whispered in his hear one more time
"We're gonna be a couple, but you will be in denial. Girls dont do it like i do."
Danny gave him a long sloppy kiss as he trailed down his new muscular body, making sure to trace each nipple as he licked his way down his taut muscular defined torso.
Chris moaned as he felt danny start bobbing on his 10 inch member. He had never felt anyone's tongue be so skilled. This was far better than any girl he's ever had sex with.
Danny was pleasuring himself as sucked chris off, his huge 18 inch python calling for Chris' hole.
As chris came over and over again he looked down at his bro. Covered in cum.
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"Now its your turn to serve me, turn around."
Chris fell into the grass. Pulling down his sweats, his muscular ass straight up in the air, pulsating as it felt it's master so close to it.
Danny felt his slick in his hands as he continued to massage it. He flopped it around a little as he held it by the thick veiny base.
"No homo though though, right?"
"No homo bro"
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onejellyfishplease · 2 days ago
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So I have a few questions for the minecraft bois. (Btw, I freaking LOVE your artstyle, I'm just hyperfocused on minecraft because I've been in a crafty mood)
How does Raph react to Screechers? I mean, you say he doesn't have as strong a connection to the Sculk, but it's still there right?
Have the boys ever found a way to satisfy Donnie's need to be submerged (i.e. giving him a fire res potion so he can take a lava bath)
Why does Leo love Chorus fruit so much, and more importantly, will he ever be able to go to The End to gather some for himself?
How do the boys interact with their home environments? (Like, how does Donnie feel about Shulkers, does Mikey enjoy cooking using Nether materials, etc.)
Sorry if this is a LOT but ohnigosh I adore these boys and their silly little designs
I may have gone a little crazy whilst answering lol
With Raph and the screechers, They dont summon him, no matter how much they go off. Though if hes close enough to them then he'll get an uneasy 'feeling' (though it was random for a while, and had no clue why it was happening)
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None of the Boys or April are good enough at enchantments and potions to start creating their own (yet), So making it from scratch is off of the table. (Theyve also been banned from attempting after April blew the side off of a mountain)
Instead, Donnie sometimes searches the old tomes in the End Cities. Though most of the books are unreadable now, the rare few are still ledgible. Maybe one will be able to give him immunity to water.
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Leo got hooked on Chorus fruit once Donnie started visiting the End and brought some back with him. Its his favourite fruit hands down. And he always has a blast teleporting around. (hes eaten it enough that he can almost control where he goes but its really unreliable)
Also he thinks it's hilarious that sometimes when he tps an Endermite will spawn and Donnie will just go absolutely batshit trying to kill it. Peak Comedy.
Leo would do anything to get his hands on the fruit. Which gives Donnie a massive bargaining chip, which he flaunts a lot.
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Until April finds the End Portal, Leos gotta rely on Donnie for his Chorus Fruit supply.
Donnie was pretty uninterested in Shulkers. They didnt really do anything (at least to him) after all. Though once he found out what he could use their shells for??? Their population took a nosedive.
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And Mikey absolutely cooks with Nether materials! they're his favourite! especially the mushrooms. And with four hands, he can do so much more cooking!!!
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triglycercule · 2 days ago
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horror has KR dust can't be affected by KR unless it's by another version of himself. horror's (somehow) still a judge dust wants repentance for his wrongdoings,,,, someone must see where i'm going with this
i just wanna imagine like if dust ever feels like he's doing something wrong (like having thoughts about gaining LV again or something,,,,) he'll just ask horror to give him like. a quick little punch. hit him with a bone fragment because he needs to feel his sins crawling on his back from a true judge,,,,
and then horror's more than happy to do it 😁😁😁 he winds that shit up before he bitch slaps dust :33 oh you need to be judged DONT WORRY DUST horror is a totally impartial judge that totally won't find your situation both ridiculous and entertaining 😁😁
#something something this can totally be morphed into a more toxic dynamic#dust keeps asking to get hit.... horror totally agrees#but yk he feels BAD because of course he'd feel bad he still has some sort of fucked up morals#buuuut then again dust IS asking for it.... and he's saying that it'll improve himself!! AND ok maybe horror likes seeing him beat up SO WH#dust thinks that he needs this to stop the thoughts that he has and accidentally slipping into the LV grind mindset#and horror's nice (?) enough to do it!! dust isnt doing this to fufill his own hatred of himself. THIS IS TO IMPROVE HIMSELF!!!!#and also maaaaybe just an eensy bit so he can give horror that mental struggle abt dust since he always thinks that he's better than hin#i'm sorry i cant do toxicity if its not equal on both ends i HATE IT when toxic relationships have like.... 100/0 toxicity in them#i've been LOCKED IN TODAY with writing what the hell#me when i write more than 3 words after not writing since fucking MAY of this year#yeaaaah its soooo fun detailing how i think the trio met eachother#(i am dreading the part where i have to make dust and horror meet killer but ill deal w it later)#i have ideas...... i have bountiful ideas....... i only fear that i write something that none of these 3 would do or say or think..........#ill totally post the dust and horror sections once im done with horror's#but once again..... i fear of killer's section...... i will probably cry during it slash half joking#idk bc i dont want horror's part to be disproportionately longer than dusts.......#and killer's will probably be EVEN LONGER!!! which i DONT like#UGH is it so bad to just want killer to experiment on horror and dust the minute he sees them for the first time IS IT IS IT SO BAD#and then dust and horror have a little mini fight about who gets to be named sans :3333#AND THEN I WANNA GIVE THEM CUTE LITTLE TEMPORARY NICKNAMES UNTIL THEY GET TO SMTH NEW :33333#because killer would know their coded names but horrortale residents wouldnt. horror gets to be named red and dust purple!!! YIPPEE!!!!!!!!#horror cant do more than just ONE hit because dust's KR would probably affect him massively#the og hit is just like 6 dmg and then the KR lasts for like 20 seconds and then dust's at 3/99 HP 💀#tricule hc#horror sans#dust sans#murder time trio#utmv#sans au#horrordust is so silly my favorite pair of mildly tense abt eachother yet surface level friendly frenemies!!! YES!!!!! I LOVE HRDT!!!! ❤️💜
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therealcocoshady · 3 days ago
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Hii
I lost my puppy recently, can you please write one where the reader is a bit depressed and Marshall gives her a puppy?
A/N : Hi Anon ! I’m so sorry about you losing your puppy ! I’m sending you tons of love 💕. I wrote a little something and I hope you like it !
Finding purpose 🐶
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« I dont know, » you’d said in that monotone voice of yours. « I just feel like… there’s no purpose. I have no purpose ».
After weeks of beating around the bush, Marshall had finally confronted you, and your answer broke his heart. You were the most vibrant person he had ever met, so full of life and laughter. But in the past few months, he had seen you decaying. Your laugh, once his favorite sound, seemed like a distant memory and he couldn’t tell the last time he’d seen you actually smile, no matter how hard he tried. You had become withdrawn, distant. Sometimes, he would at you and he could see stare into the abyss, as if your mind was miles away. But every time he would ask what’s on your mind, you would shrug it off.
His first instinct was to blame himself. Maybe he’d taken you for granted. It wouldn’t be the first time after all. He was never really good at keeping his longtime girlfriends entertained, his workaholic nature often taking over. But his best efforts to win you over with impromptu date nights and presents seemed to be in vain. Then, he tried asking your friends, but no one seemed to know what was going on. As far as they knew, nothing had happened. You were doing ok at work. Your family was fine. And as far as they knew, you didn’t have beef with anyone. So it was kind of a mystery. But still, the facts were there : you kept on withdrawing, keeping people at a distance. You were once the life of the party, but you barely went out anymore. Even keeping up with your text messages proved to be difficult. Yet, everyone was getting increasingly worried. They could see the dim smiles, the dark circles, the weight fluctuation… They all tried to be subtle about it, not wanting to be insensitive or too harsh. Until Marshall decided enough was enough.
You had ghosted him for three days. No phone, no text. Nothing. When he showed up at your place, he was immediately taken aback by your gaunt face and hollow eyes. You weren’t alright and he was done being subtle about it. You were curled up on the couch, arms wrapped around your knees. You looked up as he let himself in, your eyes dull and tired. « Thank God I have your spare key » he sighed. « Otherwise, I would have called the cops to report you were missing ». You looked down, mumbling an apology. « We gotta talk » he declared in a voice that was a little sharper than he intended. You turned your head back to him, hough your eyes remained dull and distant. « About what? » you asked. He sighed and sat in the chair across you. « About you » he said. « About whatever’s been eating you alive for the past weeks. I’m tired of pretending like everything’s fine. You think I don’t notice ? You think I don’t see how different you’re acting ? »
Your jaw tightened and you looked away. « I’m fine, Marshall » you mumbled, though even you could tell how unconvincing you sounded. « Stop! » he snapped, his frustration evident. « You’re not fine. You’ve barely said more than five words to me in a day for the past three weeks! You don’t sleep. You don’t eat. You don’t smile. And I’m sick and tired of pretending like everything’s ok when it’s clearly not ». His voice was getting louder and louder, his tone sharp and cutthroat. You couldn’t help the tears from welling in your eyes and, for a second, you were pretty sure you were going to lash out at him. But instead, your face crumpled and you let out a shaky breath. « I-I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Marshall » you whispered, your voice cracking. « I don’t know. I just feel like… There’s no purpose. I have no purpose. Like nothing I do matters. I wake up, and I don’t see the point of getting up. No purpose ».
Your words hit him like a punch to the gut. He stood up and crossed the room in a few quick strides, taking a seat on the couch, right next to you. You tried to turn away but he gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. «��Listen to me » he said, his voice low but steady. « You do have a purpose. You do matter. You matter to me. I don’t care what’s gong on in that beautiful head of yours, I’m not letting you drown in it. We’ll figure this out together. But you need to let me in and tell me how you’re feeling, babe ». You nodded, letting your tears spill over. « I don’t even know where to start » you quietly sobbed.
He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. For the first time in weeks, you allowed yourself to anger in his embrace, instead of pushing him away after a couple of seconds. He held you against his chest, gently stroking your hair as you sobbed, letting out the storm that had been going on inside your mind, that was too much for you to put into words. You stayed like this for what felt like hours, Marshall never letting go of you, whispering sweet words of reassurance. « We just start here, Y/N. You and me. You’re not alone. I’m here. ». Eventually, exhaustion took over and you fell asleep, your head resting against his chest, your breath uneven but steady. But Marshall couldn’t follow suit. Your words kept on echoing in his mind. The way you said you don’t see the point of getting up, that you had no purpose… You had said it with such emptiness, like the thought had been carved into your very soul. He could see the pain, the suffering in your eyes. He could hear it in your voice. And he wished he could take it away, suffer in your place. All he wanted was to make you happy. You were the love of his life, a beautiful soul, and you deserved nothing but happiness. And he couldn’t sleep until he found a way to give it to you. Sadly, words wouldn’t do. He needed something more. Something real, tangible. Something that would bring back the light in your eyes.
And then, like a lightbulb flickering in the darkness, he had an idea.
The next day, your boyfriend found himself standing in the middle of an animal shelter. To say he was feeling out of his element would be the understatement of the year. He’d had a few pets in his day, but he had sworn off them a long time ago, arguing that they required too much work, too much energy. But maybe it was exactly what you needed. Something that would require work and energy, that would give you a reason to get out of bed. The sound of barking and meowing filled the air as he walked past rows pf cages. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for, but he knew he’d recognize it when he saw it. And he did. There was a small dog waddling inside one of the kennels, its stubbly legs moving unevenly. He had a misshapen ear that flopped to one side, a patchy coat that looked like it has seen better days and a back leg that didn’t quite work right. It wasn’t conventionally cute but it had the kind of charm that he knew would tug at your heart. He’d seen you at the market, picking up bruised apples and misshapen tomatoes, sad that nobody else would want them. He saw you pour your heart not the smallest things, believing they deserved love too. Hell, you had taken him in, of all people. That had to be the ultimate sign you didn’t mind things - or people - being a little broken.
He pointed the dog to the staff member that was with him. « That’s Ralph. This little guy came in a few months ago » she explained. « He’s got some mobility issues and… well, he’s not the first one people ask about but he’s a good one. Loves cuddles and, despite the leg thing, walks, too ». Marshall crouched down, holding his hand out. Ralph sniffed it tentatively, then licked his fingers before flopping over on its side, demanding belly rubs. Marshall laughed and indulged him. He could already picture you with him. « This is the one » he said with a smile.
When he got to your place, Ralph waddled awkwardly behind him, its tiny legs working double-time to keep up. He’d picked up a few essentials - a bed, food, a leash, a couple of toys - but he knew the dog wouldn’t need much to win you over. You were in the living room, curled up on the couch with a blanket around your shoulders. You looked up as Marshall walked in, your eyes tired but curious. « What’s going on? » you asked, your voice soft. Instead of answering, your boyfriend stepped aside, revealing the little dog, who waddled into view, its mismatched body moving with clumsy determination. You let out a gasp, sitting up straight as the dog barked once, a cheerful and awkward sound that definitely matched his appearance. « Marshall…? What…? » you whispered, hands flying to your mouth.
« I heard what you said, » he told you, his voice steady but gentle. « About not having a reason to get up in the morning. And I figured maybe this little guy could help with that. » He gestured to Ralph, who was now sniffing the corner of the coffee table. « He’s not perfect. He’s got a bum leg and kind of a funky look, but… I thought maybe you’d see him the way you see those lopsided peaches at the market. The ones you always say deserve love, even if no one else thinks so. » Tears filled your eyes, spilling over as you slid off the couch to kneel on the floor. The dog trotted over to you, tail wagging furiously, and licked at your hands. You laughed through your tears, scooping the little guy into your lap and cradling him like he was the most precious thing in the world.« He’s perfect, » you whispered, your voice trembling. « Absolutely perfect. » Marshall knelt beside you, watching as you showered your new friend with affection. « He’s yours, » he said. « And he’s gonna need you. You’ll have to help him get around sometimes, maybe even carry him when he’s having a rough day. But I thought… I thought you could take care of each other. »
You looked up at him, eyes filled with gratitude and something else—something that had been missing for too long. Hope. « Thank you, » you said, your voice thick with emotion. « I… I don’t even know what to say. » He gave you a smile and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. « You don’t have to say anything. Just get up tomorrow morning and love him. That’s it ».
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artbymesa · 21 hours ago
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I was just gonna put this in the tags, but maybe this will help someone else to share my story if anyone else feels less alone. And it got long. I was a valedictorian in highschool. I would not recommend it.
Take it from me-- Do well in school, absolutely. Please try to do well in school. Please. But Do Not let it destroy your mental health the way I let it. I had a very unhealthy relationship with it and tied it to my self worth.
(Story time under read more if it helps anyone)
Oversharing time-- it was my priority in highschool. It was a goal I set for myself to prove I could do it, and if I didn't, I think I saw myself as a failure. This was mostly self imposed, and theres probably a psychological explanation for this I wont get into for the sake of length. But I thought if I could at least do this, I had something on paper that I could point to for myself in a sort of external self validation or worth. "I dont know what metric to gauge myself on, but at least I accomplished this". Call it a method of self soothing, I suppose.
It led to almost daily panic attacks that I could not publically control. The whole nine yards, too. It was exhausting and physically draining. If I were honest with me-- I isolated myself. More human contact, more going out with friends, more of me being the one to make the point of reaching out to other people would have made a world of a healthier difference. My focus might not have been so singular and borderline obsessive because it was the only thing i held onto. It put me in a horrible place mentally, and it has severely affected my adult life. I am still trying to unlearn the "if I mess up learning how to do this on the first try, i am a failure" when its like....just learning how to pipe icing on cupcakes or something. I tied my worth to my ability to learn, and that can become extremely unhealthy in a hurry. Especially when I already had mental health issues that were at odds with learning quickly-- like panic attacks that come on fast and wipe my memory and ability to think clearly. Its like I chose the hardest thing for my brain to do, and that was the metric I weighed my self worth on.
What I told myself at the time was some variation of "if I do this, i'll have the best chance at financial support or a full ride for college." That doing this means I will become self sufficient.
That's not how it works, and thats not how it worked.
I got a $1k grant, which was nice, but nowhere near the full ride or anything close to the "heavens of opportunity rain down upon me" sort of thing I had hoped for in my head.
Valedictorians make for good metrics for the school. Attendance records make for good records for the school. Not in any way saying kids SHOULDN'T try to do well in school (please for the love of god, we need every scrap of education we can get in this country), but please find a healthy medium too.
Doing well enough in school and not letting it destroy your mental health do not have to be mutually exclusive. A 3.5 is probably good enough. That was the cut off for one of my bigger transfer scholarships later down the road, transfering from one college to another. Nowhere did I have to continue maintaining a 4.0.
Besides. I didnt get a 4.0 by retaining functional information. I got it by gaming the system of how testing worked.
The example I use is a very dry history class in college I had. Our final exam was the culmination of all of our final tests. Same questions, same answers. I did not remember the content. I did not learn anything. What I did? I remembered the first three words of the question and the first three words of the answer, and remembered them by association. And then I forgot it all within the hour.
In the meantime, foster your friendships. Good friendships. This can create business connections in the future. Kindness and community will get the majority of people further in life than being any kind of top of your class, I promise you.
But most of all, be kind to yourself and treat yourself gently.
are you or have you ever been a straight-A student?
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gothghostiie · 1 day ago
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hiiii i absolutely LOOOVVVEEEEE your bully soap i want to eat him grahhh
do you have any thoughts/hcs for bully gaz/ghost???
i dont think we can call john price (and maybe ghost too) a bully bcs its not fitting due to their ranking/age so i will just say abuse of authority
love youuuuu, hope you have a good dayyy
love u too, i hope u have an amazing day anon
cw: bullying/harassment and whatever comes with it, sexual harassment, mentions/hints of violence, dead dove do not eat, gn!reader
okay so. Gaz is a more subtle bully imo?? like where soap will go full out he doesn't. more the type to go from a distance, making you feel anxious and having a sense of fear well up in you whenever he's close - even if he never really did anything genuinely bad to you. yet. whispers to his friends, chuckles, judgy looks, the type of highscool bully that calls you over to act friendly with you, forcing an arm around your shoulder and tries to talk to you while his friends laugh at whatever answer you give. he wants to embarrass you, humiliate you in a mental aspect instead of physical. but hes definitely not above pushing you around a bit, or grabbing you a little too harshly so you stay with him. he's definitely forced his tongue down your throat too (he laughed at how fucking helpless and taken aback you were).
ghost isnt quite what youd call a bully, he's a step further even. "only i can bully them" typa thing (the boys are usually an exception). will stare you down until you get so uncomfortable you leave, just to follow you and corner you, feeling you up. either doesn't talk at all - he knows he's intimidating without words. big arms crossed as he makes you stumble against the wall, begging softly to just let you go your way, but he just states you down. puts an arm against the wall to cage you, silent judging is all you get. only when someone else comes along he roughly pushes you on your way, glaring like you just did something to him. you don't even wanna know what happens if he ever gets his hands on you long enough.
now captain price isn't a bully. he's too old for that, it's too immature for him (he just abuses his position). however, LT. Price is a different story. was bullied himself when he first joined, got so desperate to move up the food chain that he decided someone else had to suffer in favour of him. it did work, suddenly he wasn't bullied anymore, he became a bully. definitely very physical. the worst was when he was a Sergeant, he'd regularly beat people up - and then you came along. shy, quiet, loner. how could he not want to absolutely bruise your pretty skin?
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@maplewhisk
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owlets-outlet · 12 hours ago
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my mouthwashing good ending headcanons:
on the tulpar:
1. anya tells swansea and daisuke about the assault pretty much immediatelly after the crash. the crew seals jimmy in his room with insulation foam until they get rescued.
( i was thinking about letting the crew kill j*mmy, however. he doesnt deserve that mercy. so he lives and is jailed forever. )
2. the crew dont know what to do about the baby. anya doesnt want to use pills for diy abortion, mainly because thats what jimbo told her to do and she doesnt want to listen to him.
in a dangerous twist of fate, she miscarries, because of stress and low bodyweight. its not a dramatic miscarriage, the fetus just dies in the uterus. anya suspects she miscarried, but doesnt tell the crew so they dont worry about her.
3. the crew gets rescued just in time- anya was on the verge of dying from the infection that started festering inside her from the miscarriage.
immediately after rescue:
anya and curly are rushed to the hospital. they got treatment on the rescue ship already, but that was only the bare minimum. pony express pays only for the bare minimum treatments.
curly is hooked up to a sci-fi mind reading communication device. its not perfect, but they manage to find out what happened. jimmy is arrested.
swansea:
after losing his job and breaking his dry streak, hes surprisingly okay. using his severance pay and his savings, he opens a small business, becoming a freelance electrician.
he doesnt drink as much as he used to, but he drinks regularly. he still buys himself sneakers on his soberversary though.
daisuke didnt even have to beg him too hard to be accepted as his apprentice, really.
daisuke becomes his other child, basically, he visits daisuke and regularly treats the him and the crew to meals, just like he does with his bio kids.
he also takes daisuke thrifting sometimes, judging his outfits on a scale of 1-10.
daisuke:
hes back to living with his parents.
daisuke really wanted to continue being swanseas apprentice, not just because he liked swansea, but because he really wanted to feel useful somehow.
he doesnt really vibe with most swanseas kids, but hes polite everytime they visit the shop where he helps swansea.
him and anya do gaming nights, often hopping on discord call in the late evening.
he still struggles with impostor syndrome, feeling like he didnt do enough for the crew of the tulpar.
curly:
he struggles with his mental health extensively. hes traumatized by being forced into being a bystander and his new disability keeps reminding him of that fact. his old crew encourages him to keep going though, and daisukes family pays for his therapy sessions.
he underwent many surgeries, mainly skin transplants (he still looks. uncanny though), rhinoplasty (more like. he just got a whole new nose altogether) and added eyelids (made his eye look smaller than before) and lips.
while this IS the Future, many of the cool 'solutions' to his disability are too expensive. pony express only paid for curlys wheelchair with a communicator and a cheap pair of prosthetic arms. the motor abilites of these arms are limited, as he cannot even write with them. theyre purely there just so he can operate his wheelchair by himself.
he wants to save money to buy new legs and arms, mostly just because he'd love to get back into weightlifting again.
after being fired, he mostly relies on disability pay and benefits.
he dropped many of his old friends, because they sympathised with jimmy, but he still has a close knit group of friends, with whom he lives.
he wanted to quit being a pilot long before the crash, and his old crew convinced him that he should pursue something new, to help him move on.
with the financial support of daisukes parents (daisuke begged them), curly enrolls in med school. he chose a proffession where he would help people.
thanks to this he grew even closer to anya.
anya:
tried to distance herself from the crew, because she felt like dead weight, but they didnt let her. daisuke talked her and curly into therapy.
she couldnt afford to try to get into med school again, and even then, she wasnt sure if she even wanted to do that anymore.
but, due to his disability, curly needed a notetaker and, well. the stars just aligned.
being his notetaker, anya gets to attend all the lectures with curly, helping him with his studies while she absorbs all the knowledge. this gave her the confidence she needed to decide to try again, sometine in the future.
asides from this, anya took up running again. she runs regularly, planning to run a marathon one day. she also gained a lot of weight after coming back, resulting in a mean bulk, gaining quite a lot of muscle.
sometimes she runs together with curly and daisuke, and curly also coaches anya in the gym on occassion.
the whole crew regularly meet up for brunches and birthdays. :)
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katiascraft · 1 day ago
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𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ "Maybe i should've told you i miss you. But i don't know if you feel the same" | OP81 ✧₊⁺
parings: oscar piastri x singer!reader
summary: your insecurities lead to lose the love of your life, but destiny always play its worst (or best) cards for you. in the aftermath of it all, two souls become one (again). or that's what you'd like.
inspired by: gracie abrams music ⤦
⟢ ‘almost said I miss you’ EP: tracklist
➥ track 1 - mean it
➥ track 2 - stay
➥ track 3- I miss you, I’m sorry
word count: 6k.
warnings: angst. and a little fluff. mentions of insecurieties, trauma and depression. not a native english speaker so there could be (so many) erros. not proofread.
MASTERLIST
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「 ✦ The ticking clock ✦ 」
You took a deep breath. Your hands were shaking and your stress levels were at their peak.
“You are always picking fights, y/n. I'm tired, "Oscar said, clearly annoyed. Is not that you always fought or had a toxic relationship, no. but lately, things got harder between you two. Stupid fights now and then. Dead silence that creeps you out everytime. Coldness was the new dynamic you had going on. And it hurts.
Everyday hurts lately.
“Oscar, I'm not always picking fights. For fucks sake, just wanted to know why you are so cold all the time to me!” you didn't want to raise your tone but desperation never took the best out of you. He was shocked, his head disapproving. Probably done with all of this. Done with you. You didn't want to admit it but maybe it was true. 
“I'm not being cold to you, y/n. I already explained it to you: I'm tired. My job it's complicated enough to come home to be even more complicated. Just stop” he said leaving the kitchen, leaving you behind hanging in your words. That made you so you followed him down to the living room. 
“Oscar, don't leave me talking alone, please! Why do you always have to run away? I have feelings actually you know? I would love to express them to my lover so we can have a proper conversation, what do you think about that?”
“y/n, bullshit. Don't act like I'm a monster who doesn't listen to you. If i didnt we wouldn't have this argument. Stop playing the victim for once. You don't hear me out either anyway” he gritted his teeth trying not to follow you down with your anger. He didn't want to raise his voice towards you. 
“Playing victim? You're an impossible oscar. I only asked you a fucking question, what did i do wrong for you to ignore me and act so cold? And you said you're just tired and that's bullshit” you were so angry by now. Offended. Hurt by his words. Hurt by the fact you were happy once and now everything is falling apart. You never hurt this deep before. 
“It's not!” he couldn't anymore with all of this. He didn't want to raise his voice but you made him feel exasperated. “You see? You don't trust me! Im telling you im just tired and you say its bullshit and then you play the victim card that i dont listen to you and im a fucking monster? I see how things go now. I'm done” he didn't even want to look at you. He just sat on the sofa looking at the floor. But you heard what he said under his breath. What you were most scared of what’s happening. 
You started crying out of desperation, anxious that all of this was gonna end right there and then. You just left him there and went back to the kitchen as if that way he wouldn't see nor hear you crying. You just couldn't keep talking or being around him. Your heart was sinking.
He sighed frustrated and stood up sprinting to his studio and banging the door. You gasped hearing the door closing so violently. No that he noticed what he said. Nor that he cared you thought he didnt care you anymore, that was for sure. 
(...)
You haven't talked to Oscar since yesterday. He didn't sleep at your shared apartment. He said he didn't want to see you. That hurt a lot. Your heart was already broken. You didn't know what to do anymore. You've been on this rabbit hole for several months. You didn't understand what broke between you or when it was. You felt confused, lonely and scared. What would your whole life be without him? Once, you only wrote love songs because what you felt for him was beyond what your body could handle so you needed to take it out. Now, you didn't write anything for months. You felt too much sadness, it felt like you didn't feel anything at all. Just emptiness. 
You were playing with your food, not really that hungry that you thought you would be. Another night alone without him. Would life be like this when he gets rid of me? I don't wanna leave. 
The doorbell rang. You frowned, not sure who it could be knowing it was almost 10pm and I couldn't sleep (just as yesterday and every time you had an argument with him). You looked through the little visor of the door seeing your boyfriend was back home. But telling from the look on his face, things wouldn't be better anyway. You opened the door after taking a deep breath not sure if you would survive another fight. 
You two just looked at each other for a few seconds. Probably analyzing how you were feeling now that 2 days have passed by. Neither of you smiled. Not that you had the energy or a reason to anymore. You moved from the door so he could get into the apartment and closed the door once he was in. 
“Did I wake you up?” he asked quietly. You swallowed hard not knowing what to say by this point.
“I can't sleep since you are gone, so. No, you didn't” you didn't want to sound cold, especially after you fought because he was acting like that with you,but you felt like shit and didnt have energy to pretend you were okay with it all. You felt miserable. He nodded without saying a word and looked at the floor for a moment. 
After a moment of really uncomfortable silence you broke it with something you didn't even think would slip out your mouth “are you seeing someone else, oscar?” your words cut through him as if they were sharp glass pieces just thrown directly at him. 
“What?” He was surprised and hurt that you thought about him like that. You shrug.
“I mean, it's not that you don't kiss me anymore, so.and i think you're not tired because of your job, i think you're just bored of me, tired of me, done with me” you sat on the kitchen table again. He followed you there but stayed standard. He was confused and hurt now. 
“When did I ever say that to you?” he was tired of all of this, for sure. But he wanted to make things work with you. He just didn't know how to.  It was hard for him to understand you, but he was trying. He finally sat in front of you staring at your plate. It was full, you kept playing with your doodles, pretending to eat like you used to. He felt so guilty for all of this. He knew at that moment. That he broke you. He didn't know how or when but he did. His face softened in sadness.
“You said it. You said you were done and you know what? I get it. I mean, it's not as if I am easy to love. I know I'm complicated and a pain in the ass for everyone so I wouldn't be surprised if you found someone else that makes you happy for real and you don't wanna tell me out of pity. I'm ready to hear it though. Just say it” your voice was empty and plain no emotion detected just numbness. He didn't want to think it was too late. It Has been a long time since he has seen you like this. At that time it wasn't him who made you feel like it. 
“I didn't mean to say it, y/N. I Was tired because of work and fighting with you. I don't like fighting with you. I wanna make things right, please. I wouldn't ever do that to you, you know it” he explained desperate for a moment. He wanted you to believe him. But your face didn't say anything. He couldn't read you and made him scared. You looked unbothered, way far gone now.  
You shook your head “i know you mean it and i know you are tired, but i don't think you really want to be with me anymore” your sincerity cut like a knife in both of you. Like, you over thought a lot about it but it still hurt. He was lost and didn't know what was going on anymore or was going through all of that. “You didn't deny it either” you continued.
“I'm not with anyone else, y/N, please” he cut you off with his deep voice, kind of cracky now. 
(...) 
You just didn't know how you ended up moaning his name once more. His mouth is in your centre. His hands are grabbing your tights. Your fingers on his hair.
How easy is it, right? To love someone. One moment, you destroy them.. Then, you fix them with makeup sex. Making them see the stars so they forget how shitty things are. So that pleasure it's more important than gentle affection. Always pretending to be sane then doing insane shit like this as if memory didn't exist when it came to you and him. As if feeling him inside you was the only thing that could fix your mind. That it was the only way to communicate properly. As if it was your love language, then ignore each other. 
His hands of your body grabbing you as if you were about to break and he was trying to keep all of your pieces together. As if he could save you or your relationship that was already 10 feet down buried. He would like to think sex could fix it. That it was the best way to communicate if then you didn't trust him. He was hurt and you didn't trust him. You were hurt because he didn't love you anymore. Unfortunately, your minds couldn't agree. You were the love of his life, he wanted to help and make you trust him. But you just didn't, you already convinced yourself he didn't love you anymore and that everyone was better than you. He wanted a team when you just wanted to run away from him. Or from yourself?
「 ✦ Destruction ✦ 」
“I'm done with you for real, y/n! Everytime an important day comes for me, you just like to ruin it!” He was mad as hell. Fed up with all your bullshit. 
“You really think I do it on purpose? oscar! “ He left the room so you started following him around your shared apartment. “I wouldn't if you didn't ignore like you always do! I don't know what to do anymore! Nothing seems enough for you!” you started crying out. Your heart couldn't take it anymore and this time it felt different. So much different than any time before.
“Why is it always my fault? Why am I always the one doing something wrong? The only thing you do is complain about me and then you just want me to kiss you?! You are insane!” His words cut you deep, so deep you thought they cut you in half and you were nothing anymore. You couldn't breathe for a moment. He called you insane just the way your parents made you feel your whole life. Maybe they were right after all. You deserved all of those years in a psychiatric hospital. You deserved even when he
 was the first one to say your parents were monsters and you were more than okay. More than normal. More than lovable. How ironic, right?You wanted to laugh but couldn't. You just couldn't move. 
Oscar realised what he said. He knew when he saw you. He felt terrible at that moment.
“Look, y/n i-” you cut him not wanting to listen to him anymore. 
“Dont talk” you said shaky under your breath. You had to sit down on the sofa because you felt you were about to faint. In shock - a lot of moments of your relationship replayed in your head. How could someone who said he loved you more than anything and anyone, end up thinking just as your parents? It was your fault. Of course it was. How could you ever think someone would love you? You were miserable. How can someone love a miserable person? 
Oscar started breathing heavily and he had to sit on the floor trying to calm down. He is always so collected and rational, these kinds of feelings he had never experienced, not even with his ex. 
“We can't be together Oscar, I make you miserable. And you're right. I'm insane, how could someone love me right? No one wants to deal with my bullshit, not even myself” you said quietly. His throat closed for a moment. He remained in silence for a few seconds processing your words. You didn't look at each other, you couldn't. Guess this was it. How sad, right? Oscar started crying realizing what was about to come.
“I promise y/N, I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean it that way. You aren't hard to love, actually the opposite. But yeah, i don't think this is working for us anymore whether i like it or not” he said wiping his tears away of his face as he could. 
You nodded even though you didn't hear a word he said. It was over. Your life is over.
「 ✦ time heals it all, right? ✦ 」
It's been exactly 8 months and 25 days since you and Oscar were not together anymore. Yes, you had a countdown. You created it to see how far you’ll survive because you didn't believe you would last this much. You thought your life was over and for a few weeks it was. You didn't get out of bed. The break up depression, i guess. Your friends suggested you go back to therapy because they were really worried about you and your mental health. They knew how much Oscar meant to you: he was your everything. And to be honest, that was your first mistake going into the relationship with him. 
You shouldn't have made him your everything because you were nothing suddenly when you left. You didn't know who you were without him, what you liked or what you would like to be. All of your future plans had him in them. There wasn't a future without him. He was everywhere in your life. You shaped your destiny around him. You wanted to get married and have kids with him. And you never wanted to be a mother but he had changed that until he was gone. 
You couldn't go back to dating. You tried but failed every time. You were a little too afraid to get hurt again. You had to work through your insecurities and traumas first. There was a lot of your history that needed to be let go. You needed to go through really ugly times in your past to find some perspective. Forgive yourself, putting yourself first, understanding yourself. You just worked on knowing you and becoming the person you always wanted. 
And you grew and changed so much. You felt proud of yourself. You started writing again. Creating was the best way to mourn your relationship with Oscar alongside your old self that left him. To mourn that part of you that is gone forever. Creating was what kept you sane all this time. What brought you back to life. You wrote so many songs about him. Blaming you, blaming him. Blaming the universe for not putting it easier on you. 
So music, once again, saved your life. 
Oscar’s life changed drastically. Not only by the fact he didn't have you anymore on the paddock to cheer him on, but also he didn't have you in his apartment to share his life with. He missed you everyday he woke up to an empty bed. Mourning what you had changed him forever. He blamed himself for not knowing how to get to you, how to understand you and be able to help you through it. So he started reading about psychology to learn how to understand people better. He wanted to improve his emotional intelligence. He knew that maybe you wouldn't be there anymore, probably forever, but at least he could be better to the people around him. 
He didn't date anyone. His way of mourning was trying not to think about it occupying his space and time with work and training and racing and reading. He couldn't do anything else.  
He always found himself not being able to think, wondering where you were and especially how you were. After that night, you went to cero contact. And he knew it was the best, but he couldn't get you out of his head yet. He felt guilty knowing that he can understand your needs better when it's a little too late. He just wished to press rewind and do it again but the right way this time. He knew it was impossible and that dug a hole in his heart. He knew that it would be there forever. You were the love of his life. He really thought he couldn't love anyone that way, ever again. You were a force of nature for him. Blowing him away every single time. 
You never went back to races. He knew how much you adored the sport and how in another life you would have loved to be an engineer. You dreamed of one day to see a woman on the podium. You actually sponsored two girls from F1 Academy. The boys didn't see you again either. Actually he knew you did see lando a few times because you two became really close during your relationship, but lando always lied and told him that he didn't see you. He knew Lando was trying to be a good friend. He even tried to introduce Oscar to some girls but it never worked. He tried though. But he found himself thinking that he was kissing it was you. It was heartbreaking to see. He was kind of stuck on you. 
So he decided he would take his time to grow and figure out who he was by himself. Find comfort in his own company. Doing dates  by himself. He found it cringe to call it that way but his therapist insisted on calling it that way so he could deprogram himself from you and anything and everything related to you. 
He was proud of himself though. He was doing alright again, actually enjoying his job, his friends, and his own company. He even won races, he did podiums and everything he dreamed of. But still, he hoped you didn't feel like you needed to leave to let him shine. He wished you were there every time to hug you and shower you in  champagne. 
He really missed you in his life.
「 ✦ Too far gone, don’t know where we started ✦ 」
So here you were more than a year later at the Azerbaijan GP 2024. The Mercedes team invited you as a star guest so you came with your friend because alone you would have died. Actually, before coming to the paddock you had an anxiety attack and if it wasn't for your friend who made sure you felt safe and okay to go, you would’ve been on a plane back home. It was the first time since you broke up with Oscar you felt okay enough to be able to go through it. You were invited by different teams at least 15 times now. But you always lied and said you couldn't make it. You just needed to stay at home or the studio writing as far as possible from oscar and anything related to him. But you went through all of that with your therapist and she said that if you liked the sport and you really enjoyed races or anything related to it, you shouldn't let Oscar or the thought of him or what happened, deprive you of it. 
It was sunday, you preferred not to come on friday or saturday just because there were more possibilities you would bump into him. And you just weren't ready to see him. The race was insane so far. Actually, Oscar was doing more than okay. Your heart was pounding, you could hear it loud and clear. Your best friend held your hand all the time in that garage so you don't forget she’s there for you. And that you’re okay.  You knew you shouldn't be afraid of him because he was an angel. But you were scared of yourself and how would you handle that situation. You came to terms that actually, everything that happened between him and you, it was that your insecurities just made everything so toxic that he couldn't handle it all. It didn't feel good when you realised that but it is what it is. You didn't know better and forgiving yourself for that was the hardest part of the process. 
You squeezed your best friend's hand, it was the last lap. Your heart is almost out of your body. You are wearing an old Oscar hoodie. You really liked it, plus you came here looking like shit in your opinion. You didn't even brush your hair nor that you needed it like before, now your hair is super short. Everyone in the garage was watching closely and before you could actually process what you ‘ve just seen. Your friends shouted “omg” in unison not believing what they saw.
Destiny had its twisted ways to be honest. Osca won the race. he won. You were just shocked. 
You were here and he won, like, what are the chances of that to happen actually? First race you’re back and he wins. and in that way. Your friends hugged you. 
“Holy shit that 's really insane shit” Nikola said, watching the screens at the garage. 
“We need to go guys, i don't wanna see him, please” you didn't know why you started to panic like that. Sonny looked at Nikola and just got you out of there. 
At the Mercedes hospitality you felt safe while the celebrations were held. There was no reason or chance Oscar walked into the Mercedes building, right?  You were drinking some coffee with you girls trying to focus on the conversation about any other driver but Oscar, just around strategy and stuff. You were trying really hard but you couldn't stop thinking about the fact that maybe he could come into you any time. Now that you see destiny hates you. 
“y/N, you okay bestie?”Sonny tried to get you out of your drawing though by touching your arm so she could catch your attention back to reality. 
“Oh yeah, I was just thinking,” you said, adjusting yourself on the chair. Nikola looked worried. 
“y/n, we can go if you need to. We don't want you to feel uncomfortable, okay? Just tell us” she said, comprehensively describing the situation and her friend's feelings. You licked your dry lips.
Before you could answer her someone interrupted you. 
“y/, is it you?” that. Fucking. Voice. Your friends’ eyes widen as surprised as you were. You turned to the voice to find, in fact, your ex boyfriend watching you so confused. You were speechless for a moment. He looked so pretty and sweaty. His eyes are shining brighter than ever you have seen. 
“Oh, hi oscar. Yeah, it’s me” you tried to play it cool but to be fair, you felt the butterflies on your stomach just like the first time you met him at that  birthday party you didn't want to go to. But luckilyyou did. Destiny is always playing dirty for you. Or geniously. You didn't know anymore. He smiled widely.
“Oh, wow, hi, yeah. I didn't know you were coming” he said nervously. Your friends looked at each other noticing. 
“I was invited by George, actually. I almost didn't come tho. How crazy, you win right? You did an amazing race. "You were surprised that you could even have a proper conversation with him while your heart was hurting out of anxiety, nervousness and butterflies were everywhere. 
Oscar Felt his chest tighter. His stomach was happy to see you, he knew. “Thank you,” he said sweetly. You looked so pretty under the light of the Mercedes building. You were his hoodie, your favorite, but he didn't know if it was appropriate to mention it. Your hair was so short and looked so beautiful on you. It actually made you look prettier. Your face was the face of an angel, he always thought that. But with that haircut it only intensified your perfection. He felt stupid. Just like the first time he saw you at that party he wasn't even invited directly. Destiny always played on his favour with you, until that night. He didn't even want to remember it. You looked so different yet you felt the same. Your perfume was the same, he knew. It’s the one he gifted you on your 6 month anniversary. You used to celebrate each month. 
An awkward silence makes its presence between you two, not knowing what else to say or comment. 
“Congrats oscar on the win” sonny tried to save you from misery right there capturing oscar’s attention. He smiled gently, thanking her and nikola. He recognized them and gave them a hug. He seemed happy to see them. You smiled remembering your nights playing uno and drinking wine and baking canela rolls when winter break came around. You Missed him more than you’ve ever thought you would. And something inside you just felt exactly the same you always felt with him. He altered the chemistry in your brain so easily it was kind of scary. 
“Hey osc! Zac wants to talk to you! What are you doing here?” Lando Norris came into the building as well. He was your friend. when he saw who Oscar was, he grinned. “Hey, bestie, whatchu doing here?” he said happily, giving you a comforting hug. He was genuinely surprised because you didn't even tell you. He suspected Oscar was here because George told him you were here. He can't keep secrets. And he knew it was George because he was sure Lewis didn't even know you. 
“George invited us,” you explained after he stepped back.
“Okay let's go, great to see you girl. Hope to see you around more often "Oscar said while looking directly at you in the last sentence to then disappear dragging Lando out of the hospitality. Your friends looked at you and you looked at them.
“I need a whole vodka bottle down my throat right now” you sentence, making them laugh. But you didn't. You felt scared of what you felt a few moments ago. 
(...)
New year is here. You were invited along with your friends by lando to his beginning of the year party here in Monaco. And oh you knew Oscar was gonna be there. Of course, he is one of his closest friends also.
This time you felt more calm and collected around the fact you were going to see him again. I think being drunk was the thing you were thanked for. If something felt rare,you would drink straight vodka or tequila and the problem was solved. You didn’t even have to think about it. 
Your friend helped choose the sexiest dress for you. It was a satin white little dress with broderie endings. Pretty subtle but at the same time suggesting. Just how you were. Angel face, dirty minded. Problem was you couldn't date people because of the Oscars. Because since you saw him those seconds in Azerbaijan, you couldn't stop seeing his shiny eyes and beautiful smile every time you close your eyes. You didn't interact all of this time, you didn't even follow each other on social media. 
Mystery drove you I guess. And who could blame you? It was Oscar Piastri, the one you had to forget. But I just couldn't. You missed his touch, his breath, his voice, his lips. 
Your friend took you out of your thoughts telling you they needed to go to the bathroom. You Followed them around the party up to the toilets. They got in but you decided to wait outside because the music was just so good you wanted to enjoy it. You always wished you could write a party song but it isn't your thing at all. Nor you didn't have the personality for it. You were too deep of a person. You needed to cut deep. Be someone to suffer along with. Or at least that’s how you perceive yourself as an artist. 
“y/N?” not that voice again. That damn voice. Though this time you were waiting for it. You looked up to find a drunk Oscar in front of you. You were breathless for a moment. How can a man become so much hotter in just a year? You smiled at him feeling your strawberry lip gloss. 
“Hoy, osc. What’s up?” you said easily. The alcohol made it easier actually. When he smiled you almost died. You Adored his smile since that party you didn't even want to go to. You thought you fell in love with him just right there. Just right here…?
“I was looking for Danny, have you seen him?” he said normally, ignoring his heart, almost skipping a beat when he saw you in that short white dress. He hoped not to be drooling in your face. Since he saw you again, he couldn't get you out of his head. You were everyday hunting him. He wanted to text you but he wasn't sure if he should. You seem so happy now, he didn't want to ruin it. He convinced himself that probably the best for you was staying away from him as much as possible. At the end of the day, he was the reason you hurt, right? Or he wanted to believe that. 
For a moment you watched his lips talking to you. His drunk voice always turned you on. But you couldn't show it. Not anymore. You looked back at his eyes. Half smile on your face while shaking your head “no, i didn't. Iwas waiting for my friends that are in the bathroom” you explained and he nodded. 
“Well, I'll keep looking then. See you around” he told you to go back into the crowd to look for his friends. Hesaw the way you looked at his lips. He had to be the stronger one. It was better this way. As much as he wanted to eat you out right there and then.
He hurt you. He didn't understand you. He didn't deserve you. He made sure to protect you from himself. Even though all he wanted was to be with you.
「 ✦ the (your) truth is out ✦ 」
yourusername made a post
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yourusername: i'm so excited to finally tell you our biggest secret! my new ep 'almost said i miss you' will be out february 14 <3 (trying to resignificate the date lol) these songs are really important to me and i can't wait till they finally become yours. thank u to the bestest bestie in the worl for guiding me and helping me through it all, it wouldn't have been possible without you. and you guys for the support, you don't know how much you mean to me :,) thank you for listening to my music since day one. i feel so lucky! see you in a few weeks :D
tagged: sabrinacarpenter, y/nhq
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sabrinacarpenter: so proud of you baby, my fav artist forever. just keep smiling! it's so beautiful to see you happy <3
nikolabff: we are so proud of you gorgeous! the prettiest songs I’ve ever heard 🥹
sonnybff: girl you always serve, thank you for sharing your art to the world I admire you like crazy. So proud of you baby, I love you <3
user489: 'trying to resignificate the date' WHY AM I SOBBING AT WORK
User99: THE TRACKLIST 😭😭😭😭😭
↳ user87: “I miss you, I’m sorry” I CHOKED
user45: it hurt
user12: so excited
landonorris: can`t wait for the world to cry their eyes out just like i did when i heard them :( (it still hurt and I cry before falling asleep)
↳ nikolabff: bro same 😭😭😭
↳ maxverstappen: babygirl
↳ landonorris: get outta here 😡
georgerussel: I know who will cry listening to this
↳ danielricciardo: @/oscarpiastri
↳ landonorris: @/oscarpiastri
↳ sonnybff: guys knock it the fuck off
hattiepiastri: so prod of you girl! Can’t wait to listen to it!
↳ user67: NOT HIS SISTER OMG
↳ user08: I don’t wanna be delusional but girl you
don’t help
↳ user134: they NEED to get back together I don’t
wanna suffer anymore I know Hattie
wants it too 😭
user1: I’m not alright knowing these are for oscar tbh IM DEAD and I haven’t even listened to them yet
taylorswift: and artist of the year goes to…
olivirodrigo: my day to day inspiration
user975: I love girls supporting girls
user56: @/f1gossipofficial is there something about this you’d like to share????
「 ✦ The aftermath - february 14 ✦ 」
Oscar was back to the UK training for the beginning of the new season. It was the coldest winter he experienced. He got back home from mclaren hq. He took a hot shower to warm himself. His apartment was silent. It felt empty for the first time. Like something was missing. He went straight into bed. He wasn't that hungry anyway, but he was tired indeed. 
“Hey, listen to it. I think you need to” 
He saw his sister Hattie's notification pop up on his screen confusing him abit. He went into the messages app and opened his sister’s. When he did he understood what she was talking about. A knot on this throat formed. It was y/n ep. Guess he now understood taylor swift’s exes. It’s hard to date a musician ust because of the aftermath of the relationship. 
“Just do it. You will understand why once you did” 
Another message popped up on this screen and sighed heavily. Probably his sister was right but at the same time he was scaredas fuck. He opened it on spotify, she looked as pretty as ever on the cover of it. ‘Almost said I miss you’ - that was the title and only had 3 songs. By the names of them he suspected it was about him but he tried to believe they weren't even though his sister already told him that they were. He decided to listen to it in order.
He took his headphones from his nightstand so he could hear your voice clearly. All over his head. Cutting deep into his fiber. 
The first piano tiles started playing and his heart was already sinking. Hearing her voice so raw and close and clear sent shivers down his spine. He heard every single word you said. It described perfectly that horrible and forgettable night you broke up. Hearing your voice crack broke his heart into a million pieces. It wasn't even half of the song when he started crying. He knew what he said under his breath that sent you both straight into hell. He felt so guilty about everything. He really just wished to talk to you. 
When he started to hear the second song he knew it was about that race you went. He hoped to see you in the next one, and the next one. But you didn't go again. The lyrics were so real his skin felt every word. 
When he heard you saying that you felt sorry his tears streamed down his face more violently. He didn't recognize this person. But you always had this effect on him. With you he was a feeler, one that felt way too deeply. Unlike the person he shows to people. You always knew the real him. He couldn't lie to you. Even though you thought he would cheat on  you. He would never. Hearing you wanting to hold him broke his heart. Why did you both have to do this the hard way? Why didn't you just be happy with each other? He really missed you. He missed everything about you. Your presence around him. He was his best version with you. Now he feels like a ghost of who he used to be. 
The last song just ended him. 
‘Do you remember being happy together? I do, don't you? Then all of the sudden, you’re sick to your stomach. Is that still true?’ he whipped his tears the best he could. 
You never called her or told her you missed her. But he guessed you would have liked it like that. 
‘everything i know brings me back to us. Everywhere I go leads me back to you’ he felt the same. 
He didn't know what to do. He had a battle inside him. He promised himself he would stay away from you so you could be happy just like you deserved. But at the same time he wanted to be happy and he knew you made him happy. He was happy with you. 
“So? Call her please oscar. You both deserve to be happy and figure things out along the way, together”
Hattie read his mind. Her text just in time when he is back into the silent apartment. The empty and cold apartment that once was full of laughter and music because you were with him. He missed you so much. He missed hearing you play guitar rumbling words then writing them down. You hugged when he was back home, you cuddled in bed when he was sad, your perspective on things. He missed every detail about you.
But was he ready to come back to you?
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
author's note: SO I DELETED IT BY MISTAKE AND I HAD TO REDO IT :(((((((( i've never been this sad but I hope you like it anyway. (This like a 2.0 version) it's the longest fic i've ever written and i love it sm :,) oscar piastri i deeply love you.
idk if I should do a part 2, should I?
also shout to to my international friends nikola and sonny, you girls at the best mwak mwak 💌
don't forget to like, reblog or comment! and follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together)
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monamipencil · 9 hours ago
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🧍‍♀️i can't even describe my emotional state rn
i was so happy to read pt.2. i thought it'd be happy. v, you weren't lying when you said angst, no comfort. THIS HURTS. THIS IS SO ANGSTY BUT ALSO SO SOFT, AND I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT TYPE OF EMOTION I FEEL ATP
but my god, your writing skills??? i love that so much. and i love LOVE your world building. this was so fun to read. i can't wait to read more from you!!
annotations;
avoiding his reflection in the mirror as usual.
oooh, this makes me curious
Upon the first splash of water hitting his face, he thought of you. It was inevitable. The image of you sitting on the ground, surrounded by trees. That night, he left you for good. That night nothing made sense.
🧍‍♀️it does make sense honey, you're just in denial.
“Jeonghan, don’t go.” He recoiled, shaking his head and mentally reprimanding himself for thinking of you. But your last words to him were a curse, echoing inside him every night, refusing to leave.
ow ow ow, ok. that cut, deep.
How come he did not think that by killing every single demon within the town’s radar he was putting a target on you for other hunters?
since when have you used your brain? (yes im insulting him, how dare he?)
Jeonghan missed you.
THIS IS ANGSTY BUT ALSO SOFT AHHHHHH
The pull. The feeling he got every time he closed his eyes, the need and deep craving for you that made him go insane. He let himself feel it. It tugged inside him, like a thread that was tied to his very core.
your descriptions >>>> i actually felt the pull. v, i love your writing
The same thigh he had been rubbing since he woke up. It made no sense.
IT MAKES SENSE, YOU IDIOT
A sheen layer of cold sweat covered your face and neck, breathing hard. “Fuck you,” you sighed when he stopped squeezing your flesh.
lmfao. i love her 🫶
“Why haven’t you fed?” he asked, and it took you a while to understand that he was reprimanding you.
he's worried.
“I’m not talking about human food,” he said with annoyance, shooting you a look that made you shrink in your seat. “Why haven’t you been feeding?”
HE'S WORRIED. eating my fist rn, this is soo ughhhh, adorable and heart breaking at the same time. idek what emotion im feeling atp.
You saw him walking away from the car, putting his hands in the pockets of his black leather jacket, his long hair tied in a messy ponytail.
PONYTAIL JEONGHAN ?!?!
You knew him well enough to tell when something was bothering him. And you knew what it was.
this is ... domestic and soft.
With a sigh, you walked inside the room.  “One bed?” you turned to him with an exasperated look.
qsadfghjnmhngbfrdszghyjuhn, AHHHHHH-wait, you guys have fucked countless times.
Jeonghan frowned, not at you but at the thing stirring inside his chest. That feeling he got only when he was with you. “When is the last time you fed?”
HE'S WORRIED WHAT IF I THROW MYSELF OUT OF THE WINDOW
“You’ll die,” he sentenced after some seconds. “Are you insane?”
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me when a man does the bare minimum, but my bar is in hell.
“Why do you want to become human?” the words sounded ridiculous as he uttered them.
oh ... 🧍‍♀️she's down bad
Jeonghan had never seen a demon cry, let alone one that wanted to become human. It made no sense.
IT MAKES SENSE HEXSBKNDFMGFHGVFCDSFGH YOU IDIOT
“Is that necessary?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him as he sank under the covers with you.
lmfao, this guy is slick
He found himself entirely pressed to your body, his front to the back of yours. His nose buried in your mane of hair, an arm draped over your waist.
fuck, this is so domestic, and soft, and cute, and lovely, and sweet, and-i can't.
Jeonghan pressed his fingers on your chin gently, tugging you so you locked your pretty eyes with his. “Does it not, really?”
RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH 🦅🦅🦅
“Did you think I would want you more if you were human?” he asked without heat in his words, his gaze reading your features over and over. “Did you think that would give you a shot at a normal thing happening between us?”
🧍‍♀️she's just down bad, ok? go easy on her.
By this, you meant, the out-of-the-ordinary need for him, the desperate craving that refused to let you live. Maybe then, the bond between you would not be so unbearable.
asdfghjkl i love this. so angsty and so soft, and i dont even what the fuck im feeling
“What?” he bit back, holding your face with both hands, squishing your cheeks. “What will you do, eh?”
AHHHHHHWDSNHAOVFUBRHJL DFCVMDSCVBNHDNHTBGFVDC AH YOON JEONGHAN THE MAN YOU ARE
Nothing in existence would make him stop wanting you, damned to hell or not.
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But did he miss you the same way you did? Did he crave to hear your voice like you did his?
fucking hell, oh he fucking did.
“Scary baby demon, what are you going to do?” he teased again, kissing the apple of your cheek, his breath caressing your ear. “I want to see that,” he said mockingly. “Make me suffer.” “I’ll be mad at you.” “I ache for you,”
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“You fucking brat,” he spat, pressing his face on yours, giving you a hard kiss in the process. “Delusional little demon. Did you think you could get rid of me that easily?” “Did you really think… I’d stop wanting you?” he panted in between his hard thrusts, the strain in his voice telling you how close he was to his release. “I’ll never stop wanting you.”
this is my live reaction. im actually dead, this is my soul typing
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“I won’t do it again,” “That’s it… that’s my girl,”
WTF OMG IM JUST A GIRL, I CANT- I CAN'T
“Jeonghan,” you started, your tone reducing itself to a whisper. “There is a reason why we can’t get rid of each other.”
say it. SAY IT
“It makes no sense,” he whispered dejectedly. It made perfect sense.
im killing myself if my soulmate goes through stages of grief instead of happiness when it is revealed.
Jeonghan sighed, touching your forehead with his. “That’s a high price to pay,” he whispered.
well, what do you expect? this is the third time, SHE'S DOWN BAD
“I like you the way you are.”
oh my FUCKING GOD I LOVE THEM, YOUR HONOR.
“Don’t go,” he mumbled. Fool. He was a fool.
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whyyyyy NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
FOR ONCE, JUST ONCE, WHY CNA'T THEY BE HAPPY
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the traitor | yoon jeonghan
› pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader › aus: demon hunter jeonghan, supernatural au, demon reader › genres: angst, smut (18+) › word count: 8.4k
› 🎧: mood – dpr ian | shameless – yuni | symphony – highvyn ft. jey | read your mind – meloh | dive – jooyoung | dead man running – seulgi | for us – v | moonstruck – enhypen | war-r-r – colde
› this one shot is part 2 of the curse - hannieween fest
› warnings after the cut! READ THEM CAREFULLY 🗣️
› warnings: smut with plot, unprotected p in v sex, oral sex (both receivers), pussy drunk jeonghan, cockdrunk reader, cum swallowing, creampies, cowgirl, mating press. pet names: baby, baby demon (hers)
› disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.
› author's note: this is part two of my demon hunter hannie! hehe i loved writing it sm and thought to give you a follow-up part!
› additional note: this isn't proofread
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the traitor
JEONGHAN WAS WOKEN UP BY A TINGLING FEELING. As a hunter, he needed to pay attention to a few things, like sudden surges of emotions. Hunches. Tingling sensations were not particularly something he would consider in the bunch. But alas.
He pushed himself up, swinging his legs at the rim of the bed and stared at his knees for a long second. He took a deep breath, rubbing his leg. It was pointless, he thought when he could not find a reason to leave his bed in the middle of the night.
But being a hunter also meant he needed to be on high alert nearly all the time. In his experience, sometimes it was a good idea to pay attention to those moments when nothing made sense at all, such as this.
Sucking in a breath, he got up, stretching his arms over his head as he went over to the small bathroom, avoiding his reflection in the mirror as usual.
Upon the first splash of water hitting his face, he thought of you. It was inevitable. The image of you sitting on the ground, surrounded by trees. That night, he left you for good. That night nothing made sense.
Needless to say, he was exercising all of his will not to go back to you.
Stop trying to make sense of everything.
After that, he debated whether to go back to bed or not. He could take a bottle, try to numb his senses and finally get a good night of sleep. But he needed to stay sharp.
It was a lost game. He got dressed, throwing his pair of black pants and a long-sleeved shirt. Finally strapping his chest harness on with his knife. Going out in the middle of the night meant to him that he was out for blood.
That was his way to distract himself.
“Jeonghan, don’t go.”
He recoiled, shaking his head and mentally reprimanding himself for thinking of you. But your last words to him were a curse, echoing inside him every night, refusing to leave.
Jeonghan let out a long exhale as he wandered through the night. The streets of the town were completely deserted, he knew he would have to stay out for some hours before he found a target.
These nights, he had been hunting until he travelled three towns over. All because he cannot find it in himself to sleep, he has to fight the urge to seek you out somehow.
Maybe this will be the night he breaks.
There was nothing in this town. It was too safe, too clean. He knew it would not be long until he had to move to a different town and start over. He had been commissioned to travel to different parts of the globe to find something to hunt down, so maybe he was doing his job right.
So why did he come back to this shitty town? 
Something spiked in his nightly walk. There was something unusual in the air and it was not good. Jeonghan had really good senses, but his intuition was something that discerned him from the rest. Sometimes, people would tell him that his intuition was something out of the ordinary for hunters. So he paid more attention to that rather than his other senses.
He subconsciously rubbed his leg and caught his hand just as it dawned on him.
“Jeonghan, don’t go.”
Fear set in, and adrenaline kicked in as he started for a run. He had been stupid. So fucking stupid. How come he did not think that by killing every single demon within the town’s radar he was putting a target on you for other hunters?
Jeonghan knew the town by heart, but he could travel to your apartment with his eyes closed. Countless were the nights he stumbled upon your front door, burdened with misery all over. This cannot be the way he finds you dead.
“No, no, no, no…” he had been repeating the word like a prayer as he climbed through a labyrinth of stairs, panting, sweating until he burst the door open, already knowing you would not be there.
He called your name, either way, his voice bouncing back the walls. There was something off. A glass was shattered, pushed against the corner of the room. One of the chairs was drawn back, in the middle of the way. Jeonghan painted a scene of what could have gone down.
You were probably having the bowl of cereal that was abandoned on the table when the other hunter burst in. Jeonghan could not catch the scent of the other hunter, so that meant whoever that was, they masked themselves well.
No, you would have felt his presence before he could even breathe in your direction. Even if you were young, you were not completely inexperienced in the world of hunters. He made sure of that.
Another possibility was that you were asleep when the other hunter came. The sheets of your bed were tossed to one side. Jeonghan crouched next to the mattress, a terrible feeling sinking inside him upon getting your scent lingering on the pillowcases.
Jeonghan missed you.
“Where are you?” he whispered, closing his eyes to focus on your scent.
You smelled like freshly picked flowers. The smell he would get in the early morning after a night of rain. The fact that you did not smell like death, or blood made it hard for him to focus sometimes.
He opened his eyes, his focus falling on the open window. Then, he knew why he could not make a story from his surroundings. He had been wrong to assume it was just one hunter.
Someone had also come through the window. You were trapped from the beginning. His chest contracted painfully. But somehow he knew you were not dead yet. Have you been taken? For what end?
The possibilities were endless. Even if hunters had a long history of hating demons, some of them were missing some screws in their heads too.
Jeonghan needed to find you, soon.
Making his way down the stairs, part of him wondered why try at all. He could be rid of you once and for all. He could probably turn a blind eye to this and wait for your name to appear on the ledges. He would be free from the fucking pull that lead him to you every time.
The pull.
The feeling he got every time he closed his eyes, the need and deep craving for you that made him go insane. He let himself feel it. It tugged inside him, like a thread that was tied to his very core.
Jeonghan had refused that feeling ever since he met you, thinking it was some kind of trick you played on him. Silly little hunter got all wrapped in a demon’s finger.
But if he dared to give in to the pull, everything smelled of you. Every gulp of air he took as he walked in the direction his senses told him, he saw your face, your teary eyes as he walked away. Fool, he was a fool.
He was led to the forest, the same path he had gone through when he saw you last. Maybe he was wrong, maybe he should go back and hunt you down.
But then he heard noises, leaves rustling, and a small intake of breath. The sweet way you drew air into your lungs.
He thought of risking calling your name, but he did not know if the hunters were around. So he just followed the sound of your movements until he could get his sight on you.
You could barely walk right. Something had brought you to your knees, your arms were shaking as you forced yourself to stand up, with a low grunt.
Jeonghan called your name this time, making you lift your head.
He stopped abruptly at the sight of something shiny in your fist.
“Don’t move,” you said, punctuating each word painfully.
“What happened?” he asked, his tone declining in sickening worry, his gaze coasted at each of your limbs, zeroing in on your thigh. The same thigh he had been rubbing since he woke up. It made no sense.
“Step back, Jeonghan,” you panted in pain, raising the knife at him when he made a motion toward you.
“You didn’t notice me coming,” he muttered, analyzing the situation quickly. He sent his gaze around, seeing if there were signs that there was someone lurking by. “Let me take a look at that.”
“How did you find me?” you asked, letting yourself plop back to the ground, letting go of the knife.
Jeonghan got to your side, dropping to his knees to look at your thigh. “I don’t know,” he mumbled, eyeing you. “I’m going to touch you now.”
You nodded and braced yourself for the searing pain in your leg. “Two hunters came for me,” you said, clenching your jaw tightly to resist the pain throbbing in your skin, around the gaping hole that was turning black.
“I know,” he said, examining the open wound. “Did they stab you?”
You shook your head twice. “They were using a crossbow. Silver arrows,” you explained despite the need to rest your head on the ground and sleep through it. “I feel dizzy.”
Jeonghan shot you a look. He was worried. “It’s the poison, they must’ve poisoned the arrows to neutralize you,” he said at once. “What did you do to the arrow?”
“I used it on one of them,” you replied with half a smirk that slowly vanished as Jeonghan started to press on the wound, seeing any signs of anything odd or unfamiliar.
“Sorry,” he breathed as you tensed in pain. “I need to see if there’s anything in there,” he explained, but what did not satiate the doubts running in his mind.
“I can’t heal it,” you repeated and now he could see that beneath the pain and the need to deflect it with humour, you were scared.
“I know, I know,” he told you, giving you a stern look. “I can help you but you’ll have to be quiet.”
“Are you missing this opportunity to gag me?” you quipped but your tone was made weak by the fear of feeling pain.
Demons were used to pain, yes. But you were a fairly young demon and lived for most of your life in the human world. Such pain was not welcome for you.
“Breathe,” he instructed and used his hands on your thigh to squeeze the blood that had gone black and tacky around the wound.
You gritted your teeth, writhing in pain on the cold ground. “Stop, stop, stop,” you cried out, trying to get his hands off you.
But Jeonghan was quicker, and stronger than you at that moment. He did not deter from his task to squeeze the poisoned blood out of you despite your desperate cries for him to stop.
You lied, nearly limp from the exhaustion the pain had put you through. A sheen layer of cold sweat covered your face and neck, breathing hard. “Fuck you,” you sighed when he stopped squeezing your flesh.
“I’m not done yet, I need pressure on the wound,” he said, moving back to unfasten his belt with his bloodied hands. He strapped the belt around your upper thigh, forming a tight tourniquet.
“Hurry,” you said through heavy breaths. As you eased your back on the ground, Jeonghan caught sight of the dark wings splayed beneath your body, a clear sign that you could not conceal yourself any further.
Jeonghan made no comment about the weakened state you were in. A knot was set in his stomach upon realizing that you were dying. He grabbed one of the vials he kept in his hunter’s belt, it contained a white liquid. “This is going to sting a little,” he murmured, unstoppering the vial with his mouth and not pausing before pouring the antidote on your open wound.
Your hand flew to clench at his wrist, letting out a scream that was quickly muffled by his hand clasped in your mouth.
“I’m nearly done,” he said with a composure that you could see through. Beneath that, Jeonghan was worried you would not make it.
“Am I going to be all right?” you asked in a daze, slurring out your words.
“Drink this,” he pressed the vial to your lips, pouring the rest down your tongue, which you gulped willfully, it tasted like white vinegar.
You rested your head on the ground, taking slow and deep breaths as though you had just finished running a marathon.
“You’re going to be all right,” he said after a quick examination of the wound. “But you’ll need to feed soon.”
“Right,” you mumbled in understanding. By feeding, Jeonghan did not mean human food. Although you could eat human food just all right, it did not sustain what your soul craved.
He meant sins. You needed to feed off human sin. They made you stronger, and faster. They gave you the fuel needed to fight hunters. Going off sins for a while made you just as strong as an average human.
“Why haven’t you fed?” he asked, and it took you a while to understand that he was reprimanding you.
“Been busy,” you sighed, closing your eyes for a moment.
The last thing you heard was Jeonghan mumbling, “We’ll need to move soon,” before you fell into a deep sleep on a floor covered by dead leaves. 
Upon regaining consciousness, you noticed with some slowness that you were not surrounded by trees, and you were moving. Your wings were cradling you, so that meant your horns were on sight too.
You tensed up, drawing in a shaky breath, palming your body in search of the knife that you stole from your attackers.
“Easy,” Jeonghan murmured next to you, a hand on the wheel, the other on the shift stick.
“Where are we?” you said, looking around.
“Radewood town,” he replied nonchalantly, eyes set forward on the road.
“Why?” you asked slowly, hiding your wings, from his view, then your horns.
“How’s your leg?” he asked instead, glancing at your thigh.
The wound had stopped bleeding, it was no longer oozing that black substance that had Jeonghan looking worried. You hissed painfully upon searching it with your fingers. The blood had dried, but it was not healing at the speed you would normally have.
“It hurts,” you mumbled, biting your bottom lip. “It’s not healing.”
Jeonghan nodded. “You need to feed,” he reminded you with the same tone of reprimand of earlier.
“Well, I fled without stopping to grab my purse so,” you sighed. “I don’t have money.”
“I’m not talking about human food,” he said with annoyance, shooting you a look that made you shrink in your seat. “Why haven’t you been feeding?”
You blinked slowly at him and shook your head after deciding that there was no answer that would please him. “I have–,”
“Don’t say you have been busy,” he cut in.
“Well, it’s the truth,” you said with a clear tone that gave away your lie.
But Jeonghan could feel it. Whenever you told a lie, there was a change in the air that only he could notice as a hunter. No human could ever detect your lies, only people like him.
“You know I know when you’re lying,” he said flatly, throwing you a dark look.
“Be content with that,” you bit back. “I’m not telling you anything else.”
Jeonghan shook his head, deciding not to press any further on the matter. He licked his lips, filling his lungs with the fresh midnight air that swept in through his rolled window.
“Jeonghan,” you called softly and did not proceed with your question until he glanced your way. “Why are you helping me?”
Jeonghan turned on a different street again, checking his rearview mirror, pretending to ready his answer. “I don’t know,” he replied.
There it was the empty void extending between you and him. If he lied, you would have sensed it too.
“How did you find me?” you pressed, trying to the best of your ability to analyze him. You were still weak, but you could still observe him despite your foggy brain.
“I don’t know,” he repeated with a low tone that barely cut through the noise of the engine of the car.
It made no sense. The way he found you in the woods was not done with any of his training. He simply closed his eyes and let him be taken to you. He did not even think twice as he carried your body to his car and started it, taking you far away from the town where you would be at risk of being hunted down.
“We have to lay low for now,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes as he cut the engine on an empty parking lot.
You raised your gaze to the motel sign, flaring in red neon light. “Is this your version of laying low?” you said with a sarcastic huff. “We could’ve done that back in the forest.”
Jeonghan opened the door, not bothering to look at you or give you a reply. “Stay here.”
You saw him walking away from the car, putting his hands in the pockets of his black leather jacket, his long hair tied in a messy ponytail.
You could run away. You did not know if Jeonghan was even aware of this. Maybe he was, you had a bad leg, and you were growing weaker.
Plus, there was the fact that he was now aware that he could trace you with his eyes closed.
You swallowed hard, waiting for him in the passenger seat of his old Mustang. You were going nowhere.
Some minutes later, you saw Jeonghan exiting the building and walking towards your door, which he opened to retrieve his belongings, which were his belt and his knife.
“This way,” he mumbled, motioning to one of the doors with a jerk of his head.
Reluctantly, you exited the car, closing the door behind you. Jeonghan turned and walked over to the door, introducing the key, and opening it for you.
You knew better than to fight it. There was a quiet storm brewing in the man’s head, and you were in its eye. You knew him well enough to tell when something was bothering him. And you knew what it was.
With a sigh, you walked inside the room.  “One bed?” you turned to him with an exasperated look.
“I didn’t think you would mind,” he froze by the doorframe.
“Whatever,” you waved a hand dismissively before he could offer to change it.
As soon as Jeonghan closed the doors and the blinds, you started to the bathroom, taking all of your clothes off in front of him. You made no invitation, no offer but you still left the door open, the sound of the shower filling the tiny room.
Jeonghan made another small inspection, looking out of the window through the blinds before deciding to relax. He took his jacket off, leaving it neatly by the chair that was pushed to one corner of the room. He took his boots off, sitting down on the chair with a low grunt of exhaustion.
As he sat up straight, he caught sight of his hand, only noticing because he had started moving it, rubbing his palm on the exact spot where you had been injured.
“What the fuck?” he whispered to himself, raising his gaze as you returned to the bathroom, wholly naked, pressing a towel to your hair.
“You okay, hunter?” you eyed him curiously, like a cat that just noticed a flashy light.  
Jeonghan frowned, not at you but at the thing stirring inside his chest. That feeling he got only when he was with you. “When is the last time you fed?”
“Here we go again,” you rolled your eyes but continued towel-drying your hair without bothering to respond.
“Answer me,” he muttered when you turned your back on him. Your reluctance to answer his question might have given him the answer.
“The last time we saw each other,” you said, your words echoing his own thoughts.
“Why?” the word was sharp like it took everything in him to suppress the dark emotion pulling on his every nerve. “That happened months ago.”
“Why do you care so much?” you spat, turning around to face him.
The question seemed to make him return to his senses, his eyes flickered with an emotion that you were to weak to catch. “I don’t,” he replied, stepping back from his initial anger.
“I’ll feed whenever I want to,” you said and this time you did not lie.
Jeonghan stood up, commanding your gaze to lift up to find his. “So you’re not hungry?”
You bit your tongue. Your eyes were dead, and despite the hot shower you had just taken, you were cold to the touch as Jeonghan curiously raised a hand to your shoulder. It was pointless, your plan had crashed and burned miserably.
“I’ve heard stories…” you whispered, closing your eyes to repel the sensation firing inside you. “Stories of ways a demon can become human. You can’t become human if you’re feeding off them, right?”
When Jeonghan did not reply, nor move you opened your eyes again. He was still rigid in the same trance he had been upon finding you injured and bleeding in the forest.
“You’ll die,” he sentenced after some seconds. “Are you insane?”
You brushed his hand off. “I knew you’d say that,” you whispered with a pained look, turning around to sit down on the bed.  
“Why do you want to become human?” the words sounded ridiculous as he uttered them.
“Not your business, Jeonghan,” you replied impishly, throwing the towel to him, which he saw coming, catching it with ease.
“It is if you’re running away with me,” he said. Your temptation to feed could become dangerous. And he was toeing that line too deliberately.
“I didn’t choose to run away with you,” you bit back with an indignant huff.
“That’s the thanks I get?” he rolled his eyes in annoyance. “What was I supposed to do, then? Leave you to die? To be found by them?”
He did not need to explain who he referred to. The two hunters must have noticed that Jeonghan ran away with his things, his car, leaving an empty place behind. And you are nowhere to be found. He was a traitor.
“Maybe,” you whispered, lowering your gaze to your lap. You skirted the pads of your fingers around the wound that still refused to heal completely.
Jeonghan stood before you, using a hand on your chin to force your teary eyes on him. A finger scooped your tear as it rolled down your cheek. The tear glistened on the pad of his thumb as he showed it to you, a shocked expression plastered on his face.
Demons felt emotions, yes. But nothing like sorrow. Jeonghan had never seen a demon cry, let alone one that wanted to become human. It made no sense.
“It’s possible, Jeonghan,” you whispered shakily, letting your tears flow freely.
“Humans are weak. They get sick, they die. Besides, the guilt of everything you’ve done as a demon will crush you,” he said, dropping his hand from your chin. “Why would you want something like that?”
“I’m done talking,” you said childishly, turning over to draw the covers of the bed and tucked yourself in. “Goodnight.”
He blinked perplexedly at you. The best option was to wait for another opportunity to bring up the matter, but for now, he needed to rest. He disposed of his chest harness, and his knives, leaving them on the old and battered bedside table, where he could reach out if needed.
A smile threatened to break on his face when you turned slightly at the sound of him taking his pants off, then his long-sleeved t-shirt, discarding his clothes at the foot of the bed.
He paused, tugging the band of his black boxers with his fingers. He took them off, making things fair.
“Is that necessary?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him as he sank under the covers with you.
“Just playing your game,” he said, tugging the hair tie loose before lying his head on the pillow next to yours.
“I’m not playing any games,” you huffed with annoyance, turning over so your back was to him once again.
There it was the ripple in the air between you and him. Jeonghan did not need to comment on it, but you hated it.
Hunter abilities or not, Jeonghan would be able to read through your lies blindfolded. He was just that good at reading people, reading you.
Jeonghan stared at the ceiling, his heartbeat going a mile per hour, like a bird’s wings batting frantically inside his chest. He swallowed hard, resisting the urge pushing him to raise his hand at you, to reach out and touch your skin.
You closed your eyes, commanding yourself to sleep. But it was nearly impossible. Jeonghan’s scent was too distracting. The hunger caved a hole deep inside you. It was no ordinary hunger, it was one that had your soul twisting.
You balled your hands into fists, sinking your face into the pillow. His lust was nearly palpable, looming over you like a monster preying on you.
However, you were too weak to actually act upon it. Soon, you fell asleep, not noticing when or how.
Jeonghan however, was too riddled with questions to do the same. He turned his head on the pillow, seeing your wet hair, your naked shoulder. His thigh throbbed in something that reminded him of pain, though his flesh was fine and did not hurt.
Why would you want to become human? What could be a good enough reason to want to abandon your life full of pleasures? It made no sense. Jeonghan had never heard of a demon becoming human, but he saw you crying, so that must mean that it could be done.
Still, it meant that there was a price to be paid. There always was.
Wandering through endless questions, Jeonghan fell asleep. Now and then he was reminded of your presence in the bed, feeling your warmth or hearing you move beneath the sheets.
Even if he were not a light sleeper, the distraction of your warmth was enough to stir him awake. He found himself entirely pressed to your body, his front to the back of yours. His nose buried in your mane of hair, an arm draped over your waist.
And he was hard. Fuck, he was so hard it was starting to become annoying. It would be so easy to slip himself inside your pussy, waking you up in the process. He had done it countless times before.
He let out a silent sigh through his nose, only getting the scent of your hair when he breathed in. Your hand found his arm parked on the curve of your waist, you were awake. Jeonghan pressed himself another inexistent inch further, his hard cock wedged on your ass.
“Jeonghan,” you mumbled sleepily, turning over to see him. You threw him an innocent look, big eyes, pouting lips. “What are you doing?”
He responded by giving you a confused look. In other times, you would not even ask questions, you would just let him take you, take whatever he wanted, for however long.
Jeonghan brought a hand to your chin, his touch igniting your skin, making you blink dumbly. “How long are you going to keep resisting it?” the words flew out of his mouth before he could even comprehend his own question.
But he knew what you were doing. He was an expert in pushing his feelings down, particularly, he knew what it felt like to resist this pull.
“However long is necessary, Jeonghan,” you replied, but your tone wavered in the urge to press yourself against his hand, to feel him.
“Why?” he asked, his eyes skirting through your reaction. He knew you wanted this, why were you refusing him?
“If I keep this for long I might get what I want,” you whispered, avoiding his eyes in utter shame.
“Why do you want to become human so desperately?” he asked again, looking at you with an obfuscation that was hard to mask.
You shrugged, keeping your sunken gaze on his chiselled chest. “That doesn’t concern you.”
Jeonghan pressed his fingers on your chin gently, tugging you so you locked your pretty eyes with his. “Does it not, really?”
Your brow furrowed, your gaze darkening. Feeling like you were being mocked, your eyes watered again. “Fuck off, Jeonghan,” you scoffed weakly, trying to free yourself from his grip.
He did not want to see it, but your reaction told him everything he needed to know. It took him some seconds to shake the perplexion off. It made no sense. “Did you think that being human would change things?”
You made no verbal reply, scoffing as you brushed his hand off you one more time.
But you knew him well enough to expect that would not work on him. He needed an answer now, and he would stop at nothing to get it now that he knew it fully concerned him.
“Did you think I would want you more if you were human?” he asked without heat in his words, his gaze reading your features over and over. “Did you think that would give you a shot at a normal thing happening between us?”
“No, Jeonghan,” you rolled your eyes, but he could see how much his questions had pierced through you. “Quite the opposite.”
He made a motion to pull his head back on the pillow as if that gave him a better frame of your face. “What?”
“I want this to stop,” you whispered, rolling over the bed to sit up with a sigh.
Jeonghan looked at your back, you let your head drop forward, sniffling softly but you were fully crying now.
“Maybe being human will make this stop,” you whispered, motioning a hand between his body and yours. By this, you meant, the out-of-the-ordinary need for him, the desperate craving that refused to let you live. Maybe then, the bond between you would not be so unbearable.
Jeonghan sat up too, trying to read any signs of your words being insincere. But he found nothing, the quiet tension falling in the room startled him, and it made him uncomfortable. Even more, the battering inside his chest was making it difficult to even breathe.
“That makes no sense,” he mumbled with a hollow tone.
“It makes perfect sense,” you bit back, throwing him a sad look.
You were weak, nearing a state that you did not comprehend. Becoming human meant that you also had to deal with human emotions, and they were flowing freely through you, giving you a taste of what you were about to face as a human.
However, making yourself human condemned you to a myriad of threats. Not just mortality. You would become a demon that betrayed its own kind. A traitor, too.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked, trying to hold your gaze to read you better.
“I want to be rid of you by whatever means necessary,” you hissed, coating your words with venom.
“Liar.”
There was a shadow of a smile on his face, and before you resorted to a crazed fit of violence, you decided to crush your mouth with his, kissing him with enough vehemence it would hurt him if he were human.
But he was tough enough to take you. He released a grunt in your mouth that was from half arousal, half annoyance at you.
“You’re a baby,” he grunted between hard kisses. “A bratty, fussy, melodramatic demon.”
“Shut up, Jeonghan,” you hissed. “Shut up or I swear–,”
“What?” he bit back, holding your face with both hands, squishing your cheeks. “What will you do, eh?”
“Don’t try me right now,” you said, kissing him repeatedly you were running out of breath.
“That’s exactly what I want to do,” he chuckled. “Did you think that making yourself human would make me stop wanting you?”
“Yes,” you hissed, pushing him back onto the bed with all the strength you had.
Jeonghan was stronger than you at that moment, but he allowed you to handle him with a triumphant smirk on his face. Nothing in existence would make him stop wanting you, damned to hell or not.
Though it made him curious to know. “Do you want to stop wanting me, then?” he leaned his head to his shoulder.
“It would be nice to stop craving you all the time,” you said, sinking your face in the crook of his neck to kiss him.
“Liar,” he grunted, holding your hips as you made a trail of kisses down his beautifully scarred chest. “Even worse, you’re a masochistic one at that.”
The guilty giggle escaping through your lips gave him all the reassurance he needed. You were now soaking up his need for you.
“Gods,” he breathed when your lips reached his hipbone. Your touch would never satiate the craving need inside him, but this night he would at least attempt to.
His fingers tangled in your hair, keeping his grip light but it would become difficult as you gave him a long lick from his ball sack to the tip of his cock. “Fuck,” he gritted, tensing as you wrapped your mouth around the bulbous head of his cock. “Yes, baby, just like that.”
The room fell silent again, but now all that surrounded you and him was lust and bliss. It had your blood revelling, sizzling beneath your skin to take him into your mouth. His fingers thread in your hair, caressing you as you bobbed your head up and down on him, sucking him off eagerly. You were tasting him, not only his skin, his arousal, but his lust. It drove you crazy.
“Gods, I fucking missed you,” he drawled, closing his eyes briefly before he lost all control. He wanted to push his hips, to drive his cock into your throat. But he also wanted to take this patiently.
You explored him with your mouth, just like your hands were exploring his body. Not that his nakedness was new to you, but you had just gone months without touching him. And not for a single second did you forget the taste of him, you also missed him.
But did he miss you the same way you did? Did he crave to hear your voice like you did his?
Your transition from demon to human was painful, and you were throwing it all away in one night. And Jeonghan was willingly letting you feed off his lust, you were relishing the taste of his greed, sucking off the last bit of the self-restraint he had in him.
His fingers curled around your hair, clenching his jaw as he moaned in pure pleasure. He let out a gasp when your tongue swirled around his cockhead. “Keep doing that, baby,” he said languidly, following the movements of your head on him.
A strangled moan bubbled in your mouth, and you followed his command, rolling your tongue around his blunt head.
Jeonghan smirked knowingly. You weakened whenever he treated you with softness, so words like baby drove you crazy. He threw a look down at his body, capturing your eyes, darkened with a lascivious greed that only fueled his. “Touch yourself,” he said with a gruff tone. “I want you to come with me.”
You sneaked a hand between your thighs, moaning salaciously when your fingers stroked your clit.
Jeonghan sighed, blinking slowly at the sight of you, thinking of your drenched pussy, your fingers coated in your arousal as you rubbed fast swirls around your clit. “That’s it, baby, just like that,” he praised, brushing your hair back with his long fingers. “You’re such a good girl for me, you don’t even know it.”
You moaned around his cock again, succumbing to a fast orgasm, your body trembled slightly.
“Coming,” he whispered, his mouth falling open as ropes of cum spurted down your throat, moaning at the sight of you drinking him off completely, licking to the last bead of his cum. You littered the reddened cockhead with sweet pecks trailing down to his shaft, eliciting a raw chuckle from him.
“That was amazing,” he whispered, enjoying the twinkle in your dark eyes upon being praised by him.
Jeonghan sat up, hooking one arm around your waist to throw you back onto the mattress. “Your turn,” he said with a wolfish grin.
You had recuperated the color in your cheeks, but you were still weak enough to fight his strength. You grunted as your head hit the pillows, but returned the smile at him. “You’ll see when I get my strength back.”
“Ooh, scary,” he said, grazing his lips on yours.
“You’ll see,” you remarked.
“Scary baby demon, what are you going to do?” he teased again, kissing the apple of your cheek, his breath caressing your ear.
“I’ll make you suffer,” you mumbled faintly, closing your eyes as his lips reached the underside of your jaw, making you tilt your head back for him.
“I want to see that,” he said mockingly. “Make me suffer.”
You sighed a moan when he kissed your throat, giving you a broad stroke with his tongue, tracing your collarbones. “Jeonghan…”
“Don’t throw another tantrum like that again,” he murmured against your skin, leaving another kiss on the plain of your breasts, before adding, “I’ll be mad at you.”
A spark of wrath got mixed along with greed and lust, it was not new to you, but it was rare.
“It wasn’t a tantrum,” you argued, though your tone was made weak by his lips, his tongue licking one of your nipples, making you arch your back.
He paused, “I don’t care,” he decided at once. “You’re not doing it again.”
“You don’t get to decide what I do, Jeonghan,” you mumbled breathily, moaning as his mouth wrapped around your nipple, suckling at it softly once, then swirling the tip of his tongue around it.
Jeonghan did not respond verbally to your obvious lie. He did not have a say in your choices, but there was a force greater than him or you that tied you to him. So every choice you made, every choice he made, was bound to affect you both.
“How’s your leg?” he asked, moving your thighs gently to slot his waist between them. His fingers traced a circle around the scar that was beginning to form.
“Better,” you sighed.
“Mmn,” he smirked at you, leaning over to kiss your lips. “Will it heal completely by the time I’m done eating you out?”
“Why, are you in a rush?” you quipped, arching an eyebrow at him.
There you were, he smirked. “I ache for you,” he whispered, letting his forehead fall upon yours. The shame coursing through him made you recoil but sensing it, he added quickly: “You have not only starved yourself but starved me with your stupid little plan.”
“You avoided me too,” you accused.
“I know, I was a fool,” he confessed, running his palms all over your body as if he could not do anything else. He sank down, leaving wet kisses down your tummy, his hands palming your breasts, his fingers lingering on your sensitive nipples.
You bit your lip, only in your most crazed fantasies did you dare to imagine him saying this. “You were,” you whispered. “The biggest fool.”
“Uh-huh,” he hummed, kissing your mound generously, his hands grabbing your thighs with the lightest of touches before licking your pussy with a broad stroke.
“Jeonghan!” you cried out, brushing his dark hair gently as he ate you out like a starved man, licking your folds thoroughly, his tongue sliding up to your clit to then suckle at it.
You arched your back, not caring about the light pain throbbing on your thigh. Jeonghan was giving you everything you needed, giving your pussy open-mouthed kisses, drinking your arousal in with pleased moans.
“Fuck-k,” you gritted weakly, letting yourself be swept away by the gentle waves of your orgasm building inside you. “I m-missed you too, Jeonghan,” you mumbled.
He raised his gaze to yours, blinking slowly at you, pressing his tongue on your swollen clit, moving it swiftly in figure-eight motions, driving you to the edge. You gripped the bedsheets with one hand, the other flying to grab at the railings of the headboard.
“I’m close,” you gasped, breathing rapidly, welcoming the pleasure barreling through your body. “I’m close, I’m–, Jeonghan…” you closed your eyes, repeating his name over and over as you climaxed in his mouth.
But Jeonghan was not stopping. He continued making out with your pussy, enjoying the taste of your arousal pooling in your entrance, licking your folds with raunchy moans. His hands held you down as you shook with the aftershocks of your orgasm, caressing your tummy languidly.
“Jeonghan,” you called, shuddering when his hand caressed your thigh as he littered it with kisses.
“See? Healed,” he placed another kiss, right where your scar used to be.
You used your newly regained strength to push him, flipping the positions over so you were now straddling him. You let out a pleased sigh, effortlessly pinning his body down on the mattress.
“I take that you’re all set now,” he smirked, his hands roving all over your thighs.
Gods, you were a sight to behold. Your wings were at full display, resting freely at your sides. Your dark horns, curving back from the crown of your head, were on sight too. That meant you were comfortable around Jeonghan. You trusted him.
“Not yet,” you said, grabbing his hardened cock in one hand, planting the other on his abdomen for support as you eased your pussy down his length.
“Fuck,” Jeonghan gritted, his hands flying to grab your hips as you started rolling them on him.
“What’s wrong, hunter?” you teased, leaning down so your face was close enough to prop kisses on his lips. “Lost your footing?”
“You got me for a second there,” he admitted with a smirk. “Didn’t think you’d recuperate your strength that quickly.”
“Mm, keep that in mind next time you kiss it better,” you said, trapping his bottom lip with your teeth, nibbling it softly.
Jeonghan moaned, your hips picking up the pace mercilessly, knowing the exact pace and motion that drove him insane. He closed his eyes, sighing out the euphoric feeling of being with you, like this, consuming each other.
“It won’t happen again. You’re not doing this to yourself again,” he said with a faint tone.
“You don’t make choices for me,” you retaliated, sinking yourself down on him with pleased sighs, planting your hands on his chiselled chest.
In a blur, Jeonghan grabbed your wrists with one hand flipping your bodies over, pinning your body with his hips on yours, his hand holding your arms above your head. Jeonghan moved his hips slightly, finding your entrance with his hard cock quite effortlessly.
Jeonghan gave a few shallow thrusts, stretching your walls, making your mouth part, giving way to a long moan. “Fuck, Jeonghan,” you groaned lewdly.
“Say it,” he hissed, rolling his hips on yours slowly, but pushing his cock inside you deeper each time he thrusted in. “You won’t do it again.”
“Fuck you,” you gritted, falling deeper into the puddle of pleasure he was slowly submitting you into.
“Say. It,” he commanded, his thrusts gaining strength, becoming harder at each motion of his hips on yours.
You wrestled his grip on your wrists, without using your full strength. “No,” you said with a hollow tone, the pace of his thrusts knocking the wind out of you.
“You fucking brat,” he spat, pressing his face on yours, giving you a hard kiss in the process. “Delusional little demon. Did you think you could get rid of me that easily?”
“Stop,” you gasped, shame heating your cheeks.
Jeonghan released his grip on your wrists, not letting you regain control by grabbing your thighs, throwing them on his shoulders before resuming with his near animalistic thrusts, groaning on your mouth as such, like an animal.
“Jeonghan!” you cried out, his cock reaching inside you deeper… and deeper.
“Did you really think… I’d stop wanting you?” he panted in between his hard thrusts, the strain in his voice telling you how close he was to his release. “I’ll never stop wanting you.”
“Jeonghan…” you moaned.
“Say it.”
“I won’t do it again,” you said, trembling on the bed, reaching out to hold him right before you came undone beneath him.
“That’s it… that’s my girl,” he gasped, his bottom lip parting, releasing a raw grunt. Jeonghan moaned your name as he came, fucking his cum inside you with sloppy thrusts until he stopped, breathing hard on top of you.
Jeonghan eased your legs from his shoulders, deciding to rest his head on your chest. The sound of your heartbeat resonated through his head as he took a long breath. Your fingers caressed his nape lazily, shuddering under him when Jeonghan ran a fingertip on one of your wings.
This made no sense. To Jeonghan, everything had been black and white. His world was rigid, surrounded by unbreakable rules that made him into the person he was until he met you. Now, he was but the shadow of the man he was. He used to hate himself for wanting you. You were the thing he was raised to hate, to kill.
He did everything to keep you away. He bedded other women, he drank himself to sleep to not dream of you, he flew himself to different parts of the world.
And there he was, blissfully nestled in your warmth, in your embrace.
“Would you hate it if I became human?”
“No,” he replied after some seconds. “But I don’t want you to do it because you think that’s going to change something between us. Some things aren’t meant to change.”
“How can you be so sure?” you asked with a tiny tone.
Jeonghan raised his head, curiously looking at you. Even back with full strength, you still clung to some human vulnerability. “I’m not sure,” he confessed. “I don’t understand many things. But I know that changing yourself won’t bring you happiness, only misery.”
“I’m just tired of this,” you said, and it did not matter that you could not cry anymore, he knew that the statement hurt to say.
Jeonghan got to his knees, pulling out of you gently to slump his body next to yours. He took one long look at you, reminiscing of what he felt when he knew you were slipping away. It was fear, that was undeniable, he was too familiar with that feeling. But never like this.
“I don’t know what to say,” he said with a light frown.
“How did you find me, Jeonghan? How did you know I was in trouble?” you dared to ask again, now your words taking another meaning.
Jeonghan paused. “I just did,” he said but rolled his eyes when you saw through his lie. “I felt something.”
“Jeonghan,” you started, your tone reducing itself to a whisper. “There is a reason why we can’t get rid of each other.”
He went rigid, his eyes coasting all over the features of your face.
“Have you ever tried to… kill me?” you asked, hating how your words came off while lying naked next to him.
“You’d know it if I had,” he said, taken aback by your questions. “Why are you asking me this?”
“There is a reason why you can’t kill me,” you said, despite how crazy you were sounding. “I know you’ve felt it…”
Jeonghan sat up on the bed, gripping the bedsheets to steady himself. He felt lightheaded. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Liar,” you whispered, sitting up next to him.
He ran his hands on his face harshly. “Stop that. This isn’t a game.”
“The last time we saw each other, you felt something,” you pressed, searching his eyes as he faced you.
“It makes no sense,” he whispered dejectedly.
It made perfect sense. The grip that you had on him was unlike anything else he had faced. Time after time he tried to run away, to put distance between you and him. He always found his way back to you somehow, either by greed, by lust or purely by fate. He never knew why, he was bound to you.
“Look at me,” you said, and his gaze found you. “There’s no point in fighting this. I know you’ve tried it before, I tried too.”
“It’s–,”
“Impossible?” you scoffed with a mocking smile.
It was a sick joke. A demon and her hunter. The lamb and the wolf, chasing each other endlessly.
“Is this why you thought becoming human was an option?”
You paused but nodded slowly after some seconds of pondering.
Jeonghan sighed, touching your forehead with his. “That’s a high price to pay,” he whispered.
He knew your next words before you uttered them, “I’m willing to pay it, Jeonghan.”
“I don’t want you to,” he gritted out his words, even if he did not understand, he could not stop fighting it any longer. “I like you the way you are.”
Demon or not, you felt something in your chest, tugging at you. “That’s not the problem,” you shifted back, looking at his confused face.
“I can’t have any ties to anyone,” he said. “Someday I’ll end up dead fighting something stronger and quicker than me.”
“After today’s events, I think it’s clear that I am chased by the same danger.”
“I’ll grow old, and slow,” he added.
“I would too, if I were human. No one would hunt me down,” you countered, not convinced by the obfuscated look on his face. “I wouldn’t have to feed from you.”
“You could die in the process,” he said, and that was the final reason he needed.
“Jeonghan–,”
“No,” he shook his head.
At that, you stopped fighting. You got out of bed, slowly picking up your torn clothes and putting them on without looking back at him.
His heart faltered, looking at you as you sat down on the edge of the bed, next to him. “Don’t go,” he mumbled.
“Give me a reason to stay.”
Jeonghan swallowed his words, taking a last look at your eyes. Something tugged at his heart, urging him to stop you. But you were slipping through the door before he could spring to action.
Fool. He was a fool.
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› author's note: heyyyooooooo
once again i have nothing to say. i just need jeonghan on his knees, begging for forgiveness and mercy
anyway, stay tuned for my next hannieween fest piece!! next post will be loser hannie!! hehe
toodles!
support me on ko-fi?
© RIGHTS RESERVED TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.
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allpiesforourown · 3 days ago
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Can I ask from this ask game for BingYuan (all of the questions)? Thanks 🧁
https://www.tumblr.com/comingfromastatechampionasshole/119898100247?source=share
Send me a ship and a number and I'll tell you
1. Which one is the better cook
Binghe 100%. Shen Yuan was a spoiled rich kid and after Binghe fell into the abyss he just stopped eating... there's no way he knows how to toast bread
2. What their love letters look like
Love letters imply they're ever far enough to need to send each other letters... at most they'll be long texts Binghe sends rambling about how much he wuvs his hubby and would rather be at home than his stupid job as King 🙄 and Shen Yuan blushes and replies "Focus on work Binghe..." Then he waits for Binghe to get home and whine that sy was so cold to him so he can apologize with smooches
3. Which one outlives the other, and how they cope
I mean . We know how this goes. Corpse cuddles and trying to raise the dead
4.What they do on date night
Since Binghe is a hopeless romantic who never thought anyone would love him, I think he'd want to do stereotypically romantic and basic dates. They go to an ice rink and hold hands while they skate and he's vibrating with joy because he's living out his hallmark fantasies. Shen Yuan indulges him sooo much.. too much. He got a cold but it was worth it seeing Binghe's happy face
5. How many kids they'll have
I'm gonna say... two. One is through breeding kink gone too far, second is them seeing an orphan boy who reminds them so much of Binghe as a child and deciding they have to adopt him immediately
6. How they decorated their bedroom
Elegant and slightly minimalist. Shen Yuan has all his merch hidden away in his childhood bedroom at his parents house because he's thin faced... they stay over one night and Shen Yuan completely forgets his old room is a haven of his weeb shit and is mortified when Binghe sees his limited edition poster of a hunky male character naked holding a sword.
7 Which one is the worse driver
Shen Yuan by far... same reason as his cooking, he probably had a driver take him everywhere until Binghe showed up
8. What they argue about
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9. Which one swears more
Shen Yuan by a landslide. Binghe is a very intelligent and well read man and while the same holds true for Shen Yuan, if he goes 2 minutes without calling Airplane a dumfuck authour it's worrying
10. What TV shows they watch together, and which ones they hide from the other
Theyll watch anything together, even stuff they dont like so Binghe can listen to him rant about how much it sucks. Shen Yuan hides PIDW and all his other porn-for-plot interests but Binghe knows about them.
11. What their first impression was of each other
Shen Yuan impression of Binghe: beautiful and strong man
Binghe’s first impression of Shen Yuan: beautiful and kind man
(This never changes)
12. What they do for their anniversary
Regrets of Chunshan role-playing baby!!
13. Which makes a bigger deal of birthdays
Hmm. I'm gonna have to say both. Binghe cooks a feast and Shen Yuan dotes on him and fulfills any wish Binghe has.
14. What nicknames they call each other
Binghe: yuan-gege or laoshi
Shen Yuan: Bingmei (in his head only, he's too embarrassed to say it)
15. What they would change about each
If you ask them, Shen Yuan would say Binghe should have a smaller pillar... this is a lie. He can't go back to normal after getting used to Binghe stretching him so wide
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jakeswifeyyy · 2 days ago
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YOUR GIRL-P.SUNGHOON
Summary:Ever since you were kids,your brother Jake ,you,and sunghoon had always grown to be a very close trio though they were a year ahead of you in school it didn't change anything among you three ,but since you joined high-school ,you started to realise you'd caught feelings for your bestfriend,and after you find out he had a girlfriend everything between you is always on rocky tides picking up fights over anything that is until one day everything changes ,could be for the better or for the worse
Contains:angst ,smut,fluff (if you squint you'll see)nsfw tags under cut
wc:3.7k
NOTE:This is my first fic ever on this app so I hope you enjoy guys :) and feel free to send me asks
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warning:unprotected sex(pls dont do this),nipple?breast play,making out,oral(mostly f receiving slightly m receiving),pet names(only baby i think),squirting,missionary and doggy positions,lmk if I forgot
You remember the first day you ever laid eyes on Sunghoon ,it was back when you were in 3rd grade and your older brother Jake was a year ahead of you in 4th grade and also a year older ,you were coming back home from school when you saw a moving truck parked in front of your neighbor's house ,you ignored it skipping to our house where outside you saw Jake talking to an unfamiliar boy who looked his age,"Hi Yunnie,what's going on and who's this" you said eyeing the shy boy curiously from head to toe and pointing towards the commotion going on in the compound next to ours."Oh hey little sis,we have new neighbors moving in a couple and their son ,this is the son,Sunghoon"The shy boy was obviously flustered out of being nervous as I could also tell he was quite the introvert ,youstuck your hand out offering a handshake and you smiled at him to which he smiled back,"Hi Sunghoon,I'm y/n but i will call you hoon your name is too long"you laughed then ran inside bidding them both goodbye as they kept talking and went inside to find your mom cooking so you helped her around for the dinner she'd planned with the Park family that evening ,about nearly time Sunghoon came over with his sister who you learned was yeji a very polite quiet girl and that night both our families bonded over dinner,that was day one of your frienship.
All 3 of you became completely inseperable from that day onwards .So you would all practically do everything together never leaving anyone out but it all started once they joined highschool and started acting different especially Jake,for instance since you had very busy parents who were rarely ever home and Jake had just turned into an adult he started wreaking havoc ,late night parties on school nights ,if not he was barely ever home but he still did his part as an older brother but ever since one night he lost his virginity when he had just turned 18 and you had just joined highschool you just couldn't see him the same anymore and ironically at the same exact time,you started catching feelings for sunghoon and it wasn't just the beginning you had noticed started seeing him different from a year earlier ,everytime you were around him your heart beat rose a little ,you would smile uncontrollably ,you would blush for NO reason at all,but you remembered what you were and there was no way he would ever see you how you saw him ,you were just like his little sister to him as if he had not made it obvious enough these mixed up feelings made you confused and scared but also angry,and you decided to blame him for all of this,why did he have to always pull the little sister card on you? and you had had enough of it so you decided you would get him off your mind and erase him from your life,all these thoughts fueled by anger.
That following whole week you left early for school everyday without lettng jake or sunghoon know,jake wasnt all the much bothered but sunghoon sure was,oneday after a week of successfully avoiding them or ore so avoiding sunghoon you were preparing for a class before checking the time on your phone
Just as you put your phone in the locker someone appears behind you,"hey y/n" you turn around to find sunghoon and your face drops "oh hi"you reply back as dry as you can
"C'mere" He says as he leads you to an empty corridor,"Sunghoon let go of me I don't think your girlfriend would like seeing this,and you know how stuff spreads in this school it will reach her",you try pulling your hand out of his grasp,"I know but this is important"he says as he turns to you taking ahold of both yourhands,"Ah what is it?",he bit his lip in concentration looking away before taking a deep breathe and looking at you again ,deep into your eyes, It felt like he was piercing daggers into your skull,"I've been meaning to ask you.."He says "Why've you been avoiding me and acting off for the past week" you raise your eyebrows at him before scoffing and looking away,"you're really asking me this and you have a girlfriend Park sunghoon?"
He was visibly shocked you'd never called him by his two names let alone his full name,"Why not? We've always been close even when I didn't have a girlfriend.. why is it suddenly a big deal now I have a girlfriend..?",you laughed before staring him dead in the eye"You really asking me that?,what do you think sunghoon why do you think I'm doing this huh?"he looked confused and couldn't figure it out and that just made your anger boil more and you got frustrated,"No just no",you move away from him frustrated,"Why are you being like this..?"he says, taking a step forward for every step you take back,","Wait.. we're not done with this conversation yet..!"you roll your eyes at him,"Ugh leave me alone for heaven's sake",you pull harshly at your hand, "I will once you explain this..!" he says, his hold on your wrist getting a little tighter,"Sunghoon let the fuck go of me"He doesn't let go, gripping tighter on your wrist"Stop acting so stubborn and listen to me!" He pinned you against the wall after saying that,"I'll give you 5 minutes to talk park,just five "Fine.." he says with a huff, still keeping you pinned against the wall "But if you're doing this, then you need to listen to me.."He sighs and looks you in the eye"Why are you avoiding me and acting so damn different..?"you closed your eyes trying to calm myself down to not burst out at him but ended up doing it anyway,"Maybe cause I fucking liked you but you were too blind to see that just pulling the little fucking sister card on me every damn time"His eyes widen a bit hearing what you said, he was completely caught off guard and suddenly felt awful"You.. you liked me..?,"you scoff at his shock,"Yes liked as in past tense and it's over if anything you're nothing to me now",you feel him tense"y/n...",I scoff,"what, park",I bite back ,"I liked you too....",your annoyed smirk dropped,"you what-",suddenly he abruptly let go of you,"shit I uhm need to go do something," before you could even respond he ran off,still in a daze you fell to the floor and stared at the ground,"i shouldnt have done that now ive probably ruined evrything between us that was there",you said to yourself,you left to go home where you found Jake getting ready,"where you going jake ?",he briefly smiled at you before responding "Party at yeonjun's he told me to invite you ,if you would like to come",i nodded in understanding before he said,"If you decide to get ready when sunghoon is gonna come over tell him I'm not around if he can to take you to the party," youjust nodded and with a brief pat on the head he left.
you had 2 hours to the party and was feeling a little risky and needed someone to get myyour mind off of sunghoon tonight you decided to wear the sluttiest dress you ever owned which was a thigh high minidress with a slit through the side to right below the hip and some spaghetti straps which exposed her collarbones ,after a finishing touch of make up you decided that was the look you'd be going for ,you still had an hour left to kil so you decided to just scroll through your phone when you heard the doorbell ring,"oh sunghoon,hi",he hesitated a bit before replying,"hey y/n jake's gone right?",youlooked at him confused,"uh yeah,"he closed the door behind him and took of his shoes,hung his jacket on the coat hanger before walking towards you,"thats perfect then..,"he was still walking towards you while you backed away,"S-sunghoon w-what are you doing",he didnt answer but kept walking towards you till he pinned me against the wall,staring down at you with an intense yet soft and dark gaze,while you looked up at him confused,"H-hoon-",he put his finger on your lip to keep you quiet finger slightly lingering there so were his eyes,"i wanna show you how much i truly do love you,that girl you sawme with? she was just a distraction to me from you cause baby i thought about you day and night and knowing how wrong this was because of our friendship i wanted to avoid it but fuck baby i just cant get my mind off of you ,you know that?you make me go crazy baby,will you let me prove my love for you because i love you so damn much y/n?",you was shocked by his confession and couldnt even find words to respond,you just smiled up at him and nodded,then you felt him lean down,he leaned his forehead against yourd and your crackhead self decided to crack a joke,"Guess there was never an intention for a party huh?",he chuckled in his deep voice and the mini you in your head did cartwheels,"oh baby we'll have a party of our own right here",with that he trailed his other hand up my side and rested it at my waist.
"Kiss me hoon",he smirked as if he was waiting for those words,"your wish is my command baby,"with that his lips met you could've moaned at just the feeling of his soft plump lips on mine but held it in but when he bit your lip you audibly moaned and he pulled back and smirked,"you sound so fucking beautiful baby i need to hear more of those pretty moans",you blushed and looked away at his words before he held your chin and turned you to face him,he had this smug smirk you just wanted to wipe off his lips,"how about we go to your room baby its gonna be a long night,"you internally blushed core throbbing with longing,somehow losing your ability to speak around him,"o-okay,"his hands went under your ass lifting you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist and he started kissing you again this time,wrapping your hands around his neck ,fingers tugging at his hair and deepening the kiss it got rougher and rougher and before you knew it you both reached your room and continued making out against the wall he bit your lip again inserting his tongue in your mouth as your tongues fought ,it was messy but none of you was in the right mind to care.
He then set you down,"strip for me baby,"he then went and sat at the edge of the bed watching you with such a piercing gaze you felt youtself shudder before you reached for the strap of your dress pulling it down,then the same on the other side,but you weren't wearing a bra and suddenly felt shy and couldn't move on further,he noticed you hesitate and stood up walking towards you,"Did i make you uncomfortable baby-"you shut him up kissing him abruptly before responding,"no,i want you to take it off yourself",he let out a shaky breath,"oh baby the things you do to me,"he pulled you towards the bed laying you down and was about to lean in again before you put your hand on his chest,"hoonie take this off please"you started unbuttoning his shirt before he stood on his knees and took it off himself before leaning back down kissing your lips briefly and started trailing hot kisses down ,across your jaw ,down your neck down to your collarbone while you arched your back up into the air your chest making contact with his hard one while you moaned uncontrollably before you felt him pull the dress down leaving pecks teasingly around your hardened peaks while looking up at you tracing his tongue around your nipple before finally engulfing it making you let out a moan of relief as he sucked on one breast , his hand massaging the other breast flicking your nipple with his pointer finger ,the aching in your core just intensifed more and more before he finally left your breasts,"hoonie want your cock in me please,"you whimpered,"oh baby ill give it to you wanna taste your pretty pussy first hm?,"you felt scared now no one had ever eaten you out before,"h-hoon what if it tastes weird what if you dont like it-" he shut you up with his finger on my lips shaking his head disapprovingly,before pulling down the rest of your dress,together with your panties.
Once fully bare he spread your legs loudly groaning at the sight,"oh baby how have you been hiding this pretty lil' pussy from me huh?"you couldnt even respond before he was already leaning down licking a fat stripe from your entrance to your clit ,gathering your juices,before circling the bundle of nerves with his tongue while you were writhing beneath him,"fuck hoonie yes please-",he smirked slurping messily before teasing your entrance with the tip of his tongue,"please what baby,tell me what you want",you couldn't even form words but i tried,"your f-fingers please hoonie,"he didn't need to be told twice before he slid one finger inside me slowly pumping it in and out curling them just right,"m-more.."you managed to squeak out,"you sure you can take more baby?"you nodded frantically and he added another finger setting a pace pumping them in and out quickly,"hoonie m'gonna cum ngh",he chuckled,"falling apart this fast on my fingers makes me wonder hw long you'll last on my cock baby,go ahead cum on my fingers"feeling the knot in my stomach loosen as you came down from your high,"you okay baby?",you nodded before spreading your legs wider,"fuck me hoonie.."you whimpered.
You heard him inhale sharply before taking of his pants togetherwith his boxers and you saw how big and achingly hard his pretty cock was ,angry red tip with precum glistening at the top decorated with pretty veins you wanted to lick along,but that would be for another day,he then positioned himself between your legs,"ready baby?"you nodded while taking a deep breathe before you felt his tip poke through your entrance and the feeling was like no other,you never pictured yourself letting out such a pornographic moan but even he seemed satisfied with it because he smirked,then he went all the way in before pulling back out and slamming right back in ,he started thrusting fucking in balls deep in an unforgiving pace,"S-shit hoonie so good,"he kept fcking into you without a break,lifting your leg over his shoulder making his tip poke at that exact place that made your legs shake,"yeah baby?....you wanna cum so soon?...i feel you clenching around me baby ,fuck yeah milk my cock dry?"you felt your high approaching fast,"hoon gonna-"he suddenly flipped you onto all fours fucking at an unrelentless pace the new position making him hit deeper to places you never discovered with just your fingers ,he pulled you up your back against his chest as he kept fucking into you nonstop one had coming to your breast pinching and twisting your nipple while the other went south towards your clit circling it in fast circles,"hoon something feels different ngh"you weren't sure if it was good or bad but he kept going and all of a sudden it went black and you felt his thrusts slow down and when you opened my eyes a few seconds later it was wet everywhere,"fuck baby that was so hot you squirted,"you blushed out of embarrasment then remembered ,"hoon you havent-"he chuckled bringing his hand to his cock pumping it extremely fast to get him off while you just watched in awe at the sight infront of you before he came making a mess over yourpussy and fell on top of you catching his breath.
a few minutes later he stood up to get a towel from my bathroom wiping you clean and himself before he got you a shirt and put on his boxers crawling into bed with you leaving small pecks all over your face as your eyes slowly shut,"i love you baby,"you smiled at his words before replying,"i love you to hoonie"then you both fell asleep and that was probably the best sleep you ever had.
safe to say jake and giselle had a lot of questions the next morning when they walked in on you giving hoon the suck of his life
THE END~
(This hasn't been proofread as I had a really bad headache whilst writing so please ignore the errors)
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taglist:@en-verse only <3
this might be a bit confusing i had a headache while writing :)
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the-oblivious-writer · 6 hours ago
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Let the Light In |8|
Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader
Chapter Eight: Old Temptations
Summary: After hiding yourself away for weeks, Anika and Henry get you to return to the living. While you're at the party they bring you to, you run into Tara before a third-party runs into your fists.
Warning(s): Swearing, fighting - whoop whoop!! that's the sound, social interactions, and drinking (underage)
Notes: I made at least ten drafts, combined them, adjusted, and here is the final product. This is more of an R focused chapter, so you'll start to see more of the internal struggles she goes through along with a special guest start. As always, I hope you enjoy
Masterlist|Previous Part|Next Part
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The incandescent lights of Henry's apartment building buzz overhead as you follow him and Anika up the concrete stairs. Your boots echo against each step, creating a hollow rhythm that matches your reluctant heartbeat. You've been dreading this party all week, but your friends had worn you down with their relentless enthusiasm and pointed comments about your "hermit tendencies."
"I still can't believe you actually agreed to come," Henry says over his shoulder, his keys jingling as he searches for the right one. "Usually getting you out after exams is like trying to coax a cat into taking a bath."
"Maybe I'm turning over a new leaf," you mutter, knowing full well it's a lie. The only reason you'd agreed was because they'd caught you in a moment of weakness—specifically, when you were coming down from a three-day study binge and your defenses were too low to properly deflect their persistent pestering.
Anika snorts, adjusting her glittering top that catches the harsh hallway light. "Right. And I'm going to start watching silent films with you."
"Charlie Chaplin’s a classic," you defend, following them into Henry's apartment. The familiar scent of his signature sandalwood candles hits you immediately. 
"Whatever you say, grandma," Henry teases, disappearing into his bedroom. You can hear him rummaging around, probably looking for whatever he plans to wear tonight.
You collapse onto his worn leather couch, the same one he'd rescued from a curb three years ago. Despite its questionable origins, it's the most comfortable piece of furniture you've ever encountered. Maybe if you sink deep enough into it, they'll forget you're here and leave without you.
Anika perches on the arm of the couch, already touching up her makeup in a compact mirror. "You know," she starts, and you recognize that tone—it's the one she uses when she's about to say something she thinks you won't like. "Tara might be there tonight."
Your stomach does an uncomfortable flip. "And why would I care about that?"
"Oh, I don't know," Anika draws out the words, applying another coat of mascara with practiced precision. "Maybe because you've been moping around ever since your little disappearing act?"
"I haven't been moping," you protest, but even you can hear how weak it sounds. "I've been studying. There's a difference."
"Right," she says, sarcasm dripping from her voice.
You open your mouth to argue, then close it again. The past few weeks have been a blur of textbooks, coffee, and a blend of mathematical formulas and historical documentations. You'd thrown yourself into exam preparation with perhaps more vigor than strictly necessary, but that was just your way of dealing with stress. 
It definitely had nothing to do with how you'd ignored her texts afterward.
Dork (3:47 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) I can't make it tonight
Tara (3:48 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) oh. lemme knw when u can reschedule 
Dork (3:48 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) Tara, don't do that
Tara (3:49 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) dont wat????
Dork (3:49 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) I know what 'oh' means
Tara (3:50 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) well then eblighten me cuz idk what ur ymmaring abt
Dork (3:51 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) *Enlighten/*yammering, and never mind
Tara (3:51 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) 🤓 is u fr 
Dork (3:52 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) Excuse me? 
Tara (3: 52 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) i have to explain??? but i thougt u were all knowing!
Dork (3:53 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) *Thought. I know you know how to spell, you're just reckless with a keyboard
Tara (3:53 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) my question is when did i ask
Dork (3:54 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) That's an improvement
Tara (3:54 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) stfup.
Henry emerges from his bedroom, now wearing a fitted crop-top that every guy wore in the 80’s. "Are we talking about the Tara situation?"
"There is no 'Tara situation,'" you insist, making air quotes with your fingers. "Can we please just go to this party so I can suffer through it and get back to my peaceful, drama-free existence?"
"Drama-free?" Henry laughs, grabbing his keys. "Is that what we're calling your one-person production of 'Hamlet' these last eighteen years?"
You bite your thumb at him, but there's no real heat behind it. These are your best friends, after all, and you know their teasing comes from a place of love. Even if they're being particularly annoying about it tonight.
The drive to the party is a blur of street lights and the sound of Abbey Road. You're behind the wheel of your beloved '70 Ford Maverick, a car that Henry constantly ridicules. Anika claims the passenger seat, still fussing with her makeup, while Henry sprawls in the back, giving you directions that are more confusing than helpful.
"No, no, turn left at the next—wait, I meant right. My other left."
"Your other left?" you deadpan, making the turn anyway. "How many lefts do you have?"
"Don't sass the navigator," he replies primly. "Oh, there it is! The house with all the cars out front."
You pull up to the curb about half a block away, already feeling your anxiety spike at the sight of the crowded frat house. Music pulses from within, so loud you can feel it in your chest even from here. People mill about on the front lawn, red cups in hand, their laughter carrying through the night air.
"Remind me again why I agreed to this?" you ask, killing the engine but making no move to get out of the car.
Anika turns to you, her expression softening slightly. "Because Henry threatened to sing the entire soundtrack of 'Cats' outside your bedroom door if you didn't come."
"That was a low blow," you mutter, finally unbuckling your seatbelt. "You know how much I hate that musical."
"Desperate times," Henry says cheerfully, already out of the car and bouncing on his heels with excitement. "Come on, let's go find out what kinds of terrible decisions we can make tonight!"
You follow your friends up the walkway, trying to ignore the way your palms are already sweating. The last party you'd attended had been... well, it had been a week before your self-imposed exile. The night Tara had looked at you with those impossibly dark eyes and asked if you wanted to get some air, and you'd panicked and made up an excuse about needing to check on your nonexistent fish.
The front door is already open, music and voices spilling out into the night. As soon as you cross the threshold, you're hit with a wall of sensory input that makes your head spin. The air is thick with artificial fog from a machine hidden somewhere in the corner, mixed with the distinctive scent of cheap beer and various perfumes and colognes. Multi-colored lights pulse in time with the music, turning everything into a strobing dreamscape and your nightmare.
Henry guides you through the crowd with a gentle hand on your back, navigating the sea of bodies with practiced ease. You catch glimpses of familiar faces as you pass. They all blur together in the dim light, becoming a kaleidoscope of features that makes your head swim.
You end up at yet another worn leather couch that's seen better days, probably around the same era as your car. Henry gestures for you to sit, and you do, grateful for something solid beneath you. The cushions seem to want to swallow you whole, and for once, you don't fight it.
"I'll get us drinks!" Henry shouts over the music, already backing away into the crowd. "Don't move!"
Anika lingers for a moment, looking torn between staying with you and pursuing whatever—or whoever—has caught her attention across the room. You wave her off with a weak smile. "Go. I'll be fine right here, becoming one with the furniture."
She hesitates another second before grinning. "Try to have some fun, okay? And text me if you need an escape plan." Then she's gone, disappearing into the crowd with the grace of Mindy, someone who actually enjoys these sorts of gatherings.
Left alone, you let yourself sink deeper into the couch, watching the party unfold around you. A group of girls near the makeshift dance floor are attempting some sort of choreographed routine, though the alcohol in their systems is making it more comedic than coordinated. Two guys are engaged in what appears to be an intense debate about pizza toppings, their gestures becoming more animated with each passing second.
The bass line of whatever song is playing thrums through your body, making your bones vibrate in a way that's not entirely unpleasant. You find yourself timing your breathing to it, using it as an anchor in the chaos. This isn't so bad, you think. You can handle this. It's just a few hours, and then you can go home and binge-watch your comfort shows until the sun comes up.
"Y/L/N special!" Henry's voice breaks through your thoughts as he returns, thrusting a red solo cup into your hands. The liquid inside is an alarming shade of orange that definitely doesn't occur in nature.
You eye it suspiciously. "What exactly makes it a ‘Y/L/N special'?"
"The fact that it's specifically designed for the same people who despise candy unless it's 99% cacao," he explains, dropping onto the couch beside you with his own drink—something amber-colored that you assume is actually beer.
"That's... oddly thoughtful," you admit, taking a tentative sip. It tastes like water that’s had lemons and limes soak in it for months, the kick makes your tongue tingle. "And dangerous."
"Just pace yourself," he advises, watching as more people filter into the already crowded space. "Oh hey, isn't that Charlotte?"
You follow his gaze to see Charlotte, the person you ended things with through a text message. You try to hide behind the red plastic in your hand as you sip, but you nearly spill your bitter bread water all over yourself when she notices you. You can tell it caught her off guard; her eyes slightly widened and she took an uncomfortably long pause mid-sentence. This pause caused her friends to look over which only made things even more awkward—at least for you. After shooting daggers at you and one of them flipping you off, they linked elbows with Charlotte and took her to a different room.
You know you deserved it.
Henry sucked his teeth. “Ouch. Casanova strikes again,” he chuckled with amusement.
“Ugh,” you express in response to the name for you before downing the last of the liquid in your cup. “I’m out. I’m gonna get one more.”
One drink turns into two, two turns into three, and somewhere during your debate with Henry over which Ninja Turtle’s the best one, you’re interrupted by a pair of familiar dark brown eyes meeting yours. Your attention always seemed to gravitate towards Tara Carpenter. 
You momentarily pause your expression of admiration for Leonardo, peeking over Henry’s shoulder to give Tara a downwards smile paired with a finger wave. She rolls her eyes and returns your finger wave in a mocking gesture. After Henry realizes what’s grabbed your attention, he makes an excuse to walk away.
You're nursing your fifth orange drink when she materializes beside you, seemingly out of thin air. "Seriously?" The word drips with exasperation. "You're actually hiding behind Henry?"
"I'm not hiding," you protest, pulling yourself up to what you hope is a dignified height. "I'm strategically positioning myself for optimal social avoidance."
Tara snorts—an inelegant sound that somehow makes her more endearing. "Is that what we're calling it?" 
The space between you crackles with a tension that's part irritation, part something else entirely. 
"I could ask you the same thing," you counter with a crack in your voice. Tara notices this and slightly raises an eyebrow while giving you a once-over. "Pretty sure you've been standing in the exact same spot for the last twenty minutes."
Her eyes narrow. "I'm observing."
"Stalking," you correct automatically.
"Strategically positioning myself," she throws your earlier words back at you, and there's a glint in her eye that makes your breath catch.
For a moment, you felt uncharacteristically at ease in such a setting—when you catch a fragment of a conversation that makes your blood run cold. 
“��Carpenter's got a mouth on her that could—"
The words slice through your alcohol-induced haze like a knife. Your head whips around so fast you almost give yourself whiplash, searching for the source of the comment. Two guys are leaning against the wall near the stairs, one of them making crude gestures as he continues to make vile comments about Tara.
The pleasant warmth in your system transforms instantly into liquid fire. You recognize one of them—Marcus Wheeler from your Calculus class, the one who always makes inappropriate comments during lectures and thinks he's God's gift to mathematics. The other is unfamiliar, but the way he's laughing and encouraging Marcus makes your skin crawl.
Your muscles tense. Tara notices immediately. "Don't," she warns, a single word packed with more meaning than should be possible.
But you're already moving, your body acting before your brain can fully process the decision. 
Your fist connects with his jaw before you even realize you've thrown the punch. There's a satisfying crack that you feel more than hear, followed by a burst of pain across your knuckles that you're too angry to properly register. The pain sends a rush through you, pushes you, tempts you for more. 
Marcus staggers back, both surprised and hurt, but recovers quickly. He lunges for you, but your muscle memory kicks in. You sidestep, using his momentum against him, and somehow you end up on top of him, getting in another solid hit before strong hands pull you away.
The world comes rushing back all at once. The music has stopped, replaced by the murmur of shocked voices and the ringing in your ears. Everyone is staring at you, their faces a blur of surprise and judgment. Marcus is on the ground, blood trickling from his split lip, and presumably broken nose, looking at you with a mixture of rage, disbelief, and fear.
Your chest feels too tight, like someone's wrapped steel bands around your ribcage and is slowly tightening them. The weight of what you've just done crashes over you like a wave, threatening to pull you under. You need to get out—now.
You shoulder your way through the crowd, ignoring Henry calling your name, ignoring the whispers that follow in your wake. Someone tries to grab your arm, but you shake them off, focused solely on reaching the door. The cool night air hits your face like a slap when you finally burst outside, but you keep walking, your hands shaking as the adrenaline starts to wear off.
The crisp winter air hits you like a slap when you stumble outside, your breath forming small clouds in the freezing night.
“Wait!”
When did she get here?
"Let me see," Tara's voice cuts through your alcohol-induced haze, her hand reaching for yours with a familiarity that makes your head spin—or maybe you've had one too many of those orange drinks.
You thrust your hand toward her dramatically, wincing as the movement sends a spike of pain through your bruised knuckles.
"I totally got that incel good," you slur, a giggle bubbling up from somewhere deep and slightly unhinged. The ice beneath your feet seems to shimmer with your triumph.
Tara's fingers hover just above your hand, not quite touching but close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from her skin. "You're going to need ice for that," she says, her tone caught between exasperation and something else—something softer.
"Ice, huh?" You look down at the ground, the irony not lost on you. 
With exaggerated precision, you bend down and scoop up a handful of snow, pressing it against your knuckles. The cold bites, but it's a welcome contrast to the burning anger and alcohol still coursing through your system.
"This works, right?" You look up at her, your eyes wide and slightly unfocused. The world tilts slightly, but Tara remains steady—an anchor in your spinning vision.
Something flickers in her eyes—amusement, maybe. "You're something else," she mutters, but there's no real bite to the words.
Emboldened by alcohol and adrenaline, you lean in closer. The words tumble out before you can stop them. "So… I never did get an answer to that proposal."
Tara goes very still. A smile begins to form, tentative and fragile as first light. 
She chuckles at your remark before shaking her head and scoffing to herself. "Sometimes I just don't get you," she says with a smile still etched on her face, but there's more complexity in those words than simple dismissal as she stares back into your eyes.
Confusion must show on your face because she looks away, the streetlight catching the curve of her cheek, the set of her jaw. You didn’t know what else to say so you just said the first thing that came to mind. 
“Merry birthday, Tar,” you said. 
She’s taken aback by this. She didn’t know what to say, yet still opened her mouth to respond. Maybe something would come to her, but before anything did—
"There you are!" Anika's voice cuts through the moment like a knife. Your car pulls up to the curb, engine running warm against the freezing air. "We need to get out of here before that guy calls the cops."
The moment dissolves. Tara takes a step back, creating distance that feels more emotional than physical. You're left standing there, snow melting between your fingers, the taste of unresolved everything burning at the back of your throat.
As you climb into the passenger seat, you catch one last glimpse of her in the side mirror—a silhouette, perfectly still and impossibly distant.
The drive home is mostly silent, broken only by the occasional sigh from Anika and the gentle humming of your car's engine. Your knuckles throb in time with your heartbeat, a steady reminder of your momentary loss of control. The adrenaline is wearing off now, replaced by a mixture of embarrassment and alcohol-induced wooziness that makes you slouch lower in your seat.
"You know," Anika finally says as she pulls into your shared apartment complex, "when I said you needed to be more social, starting another fight wasn't exactly what I had in mind."
You grunt in response, too busy focusing on the way the world is tilting slightly to form actual words. The drinks are hitting harder now that the excitement is over, making everything feel soft around the edges.
"Use your words," she chides, killing the engine. 
"Words are for people who don't punch assholes at parties," you mumble, fumbling with your seatbelt. The simple mechanism seems impossibly complex right now.
Anika reaches over to help you, her movements gentle despite her exasperated tone. "Come on, Rocky Balboa. Let's get you inside."
Getting up the stairs to your second-floor apartment proves to be an adventure. You insist you can do it yourself, but after the third time you miss a step, Anika wraps an arm around your waist and practically drags you up.
"I can walk," you protest, even as you lean heavily against her.
"Sure you can. Just like you can make rational decisions at parties, right?" 
You attempt to glare at her, but the effect is somewhat ruined when you stumble over your own feet. "He deserved it."
"Oh, I'm not arguing that point," Anika says, fishing her keys out of her purse while still supporting most of your weight. "Marcus Wheeler is definitely in the running for Biggest Douchebag of the Year. But maybe next time we could handle it without violence? You know, like adults?"
"Adulting is overrated," you declare as she manages to get the door open. "If I was a kid, I could just pull Tara's pigtails or something."
Anika steers you toward the kitchen, depositing you none too gently into one of the mismatched chairs around your small table. "Okay, first of all, that's not the approach to crushing on someone that you think it is. Second, stay put while I get the first aid kit."
You slump forward, resting your forehead against the cool surface of the table. "Not crushing," you mumble into the wood. "Just... emotionally compromised."
"Right," Anika calls from the bathroom, where you can hear her rummaging through cabinets. "And I'm just 'casually interested' in my hot girlfriend."
"That's different," you argue, lifting your head slightly. "You two are together. You’re attached to the hip—you don’t hide from each other."
"Ha! So you admit you were hiding!"
You let your head thunk back down onto the table. "I admit nothing. I was studying. Very intensely. In locations where certain people were statistically unlikely to appear."
Anika returns with the first aid kit and a bag of frozen peas, setting both on the table. "Sit up, you disaster. Let me see your hand."
You comply with a dramatic sigh, straightening in your chair and holding out your injured hand. Your knuckles are already starting to bruise, spots of purple blooming across the skin. There are a few small cuts, probably from where you caught Marcus's teeth.
"This might sting," Anika warns before dabbing at the cuts with an alcohol wipe. You hiss through your teeth but don't pull away. "So," she continues, her tone deceptively casual, "want to talk about what really happened back there?"
"Not particularly," you mutter, watching as she carefully cleans each cut. "Can we just chalk it up to temporary insanity and move on?"
"You punched a guy for talking shit about Tara." She applies antibiotic ointment with practiced efficiency. "That's not temporary insanity. That's feelings."
You try to pull your hand away, but she holds firm. "It's not— I just— He was being gross!"
"Mhmm." She wraps your knuckles in gauze with precise movements. "And the fact that it was about Tara specifically had nothing to do with your reaction?"
"I would have done the same for anyone," you insist, even though you both know it's a lie. "It's about basic human decency."
"Right. Basic human decency. That's why you've been moping around our apartment for two weeks, taking different routes, and muttering under your breath when you think I can't hear you."
Before you can form a suitably indignant response, your phone buzzes. Henry's face appears on the screen, caught mid-laugh at some long-ago hangout.
You put the call on speaker, feeling too exhausted to hold the phone. Henry's excited voice crackles through, bursting with energy.
"Holy shit! Are you okay? That was the most badass thing I've ever seen in my life!"
"I'm fine," you mutter, wincing as Anika presses a bag of frozen peas against your bruised knuckles. "Ow! Except for my so-called best friend trying to give me frostbite."
Anika's tone is no-nonsense. "Keep the ice on, or your hand will swell up like a balloon."
Henry can barely contain his excitement. "You should have seen Marcus's face after you left. He was completely shaken. I don't think anyone's ever stood up to him like that before."
You groan, tilting your head back. "Great. Now I'll be known as the crazy chick who starts fights at parties. That'll look amazing on my resume."
"Are you kidding? You're going to be a legend!" Henry starts, then suddenly there's a scuffle in the background.
"Am I on speaker?" you ask, suspicion rising in your voice.
"No!" Henry says simultaneously with another voice declaring, "Yes!"
You recognize the second voice immediately. "Henry James Martinez," you say, using his full name—knowing how much he hates it—"Are you and Tony back together?"
"No!" Henry protests. "His place flooded, and he needed a place to stay!"
"Sure thing, Hef," you chuckle, catching Anika's amused smile.
Tony's cheerful voice joins the conversation. "Hey, heard you knocked some douche on his ass for talking shit about your girlfriend. Nicely done."
"She's not my girlfriend," you respond quickly.
Henry can't resist. "Define girlfriend."
You're ready with a comeback. "Define sharing a living space with—"
"Uh oh, bad connection," Henry interrupts, and suddenly the line goes dead. Anika bursts into laughter.
“I’m gonna get you some aspirin,” Anika offered, patting your shoulder as she passed. “But just so you know that whole ‘emotionally compromised’ thing? Yeah, that’s basically the definition of crushing.”
You make an incoherent noise of protest into the table. 
"Oh, and by the way," Anika calls from the kitchen, "you're totally teaching me that right hook tomorrow. After your hangover wears off, of course."
You lift your head just enough to deadpan at her. 
"Love you too, champ. Now take your aspirin and go to bed before you fall asleep on the table. Again."
Not long after she went to her room, you stumble into the bathroom, hand throbbing and head spinning—the former a reminder of the night’s events. The light is harsh against your alcohol-fogged brain. The tile floor is cold beneath your bare feet as you stumble to the sink, turning on the water and splashing your face.
When you look up, he's there.
Your Uncle's bloody corpse stands behind you in the reflection, that familiar crooked smile that's always been more predatory than comforting. His appearance is exactly as you remember from old photographs—that slightly manic glint in his eye, the way he holds himself like violence is always just beneath the surface.
"Killer punch," he says, leaning against the bathroom wall. No greeting, no preamble. Just direct observation.
You don't jump but roll your eyes. "Go away," you mutter, gripping the sink's edge.
He chuckles—a sound that's more bark than laugh. "I saw myself in you tonight. That rage? That precise moment of calculated violence? Pure genetics that chose you."
"I'm nothing like you," you snap, turning to face him directly. The bathroom suddenly feels smaller.
He takes a step closer. "Oh, but you are. That moment when you heard those guys talking about your girl? That split second before the punch? That wasn't just anger. That was hunting instinct."
You close your eyes, trying to block him out. "I'm not a killer. I'm not you."
"Not yet," he says, and there's something almost proud in his voice. "But you've got the potential. I saw how you moved. How you calculated. How you knew exactly where to hit to cause maximum impact."
"My dad’s a professional pig," you counter. "It’s not like I attended murder school."
His laugh is sharp, brittle. "Call it what you want. But we both know there's something inside you. Something sharp. Something waiting."
The argument feels familiar—like every nightmare, every family gathering where his memory haunted the edges of conversation, their fear of the parallels you both held. You're tired of it. Tired of him.
"I'm going to bed," you declare, pushing past his spectral form.
He doesn't disappear immediately. Instead, his voice follows you. "We're not so different, you and me."
You pause at the doorway, not turning around, as your hand tightly grips the edges of the doorframe. "We're nothing alike." 
The silence that follows is answer enough.
As you crawl back into bed, the room feels normal again—just another night, just another internal argument with a ghost who refuses to stay buried.
But somewhere in the darkness, you can still feel him watching. Waiting.
-----------
A/N:
gobble, gobble
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just-some-random-blogger · 2 days ago
Text
"I didn't want to overstep"
My honest reacton
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NOW *make a man out of your plays in the background* LETS GET DOWN TO BUSINESS
The splash of cold water against your ankle makes you grumble more. You hated getting your shoes wet. Or your ankles. You fix your hair scarf, worried that the sea breeze will make it come loose.
She is so me
As you look up, you see him. A man, with silver hair and a smug look on his face, riding atop a dragon. He is showing off, ducking low, the dragon’s tail dipping in the water before springing back up again. It is what is causing the breeze.
🙄 gago I hate him stfu
You marvel for a second, wondering how such a gigantic beast can be so nimble.
I WOULD LITERALLY HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON CARAXES AND LEAVE THIS PLACE
The man smiles. He winks at you.
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The few captains and sailors that were on the docks alongside you have fled. But not you. Alone, silver hair in full display, you stand frozen in the same spot you had been before seeing him pass.
Main character things
Daemon would have so enjoyed to play such a game himself. His future bride was far too young to do little more than court under her parents’ watchful eyes.
🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢 YUCKKKK CAN HE JUST BE FUCKING NORMALLLLLLL CAN HE JUST BE FUCKING NORMALLLLLLLL YUCCKKKKKK
Your laughter was the first thing that caught his attention, a sound so girlish it seemed improper among the men carrying saws and woods for the ships.
We love to see it. DIVINE FEMININE
Daemon seethed. He hated sharing. With whores, it was to be expected, yet it didn’t make it anymore palatable. It was why he enjoyed taking maidenheads so much. Yet, he could ignore it if the woman was pretty or well-trained enough, like he did with Mysaria. To watch a whore with her lover, though, it was intolerable.
❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨 SHUT THE EVER LOVING FUCK UP????????? A MAN WILL WANT SOMETHING THEN THINK THEY ARE ENTITLED TO IT????? EAT SHIT AND DIE?????????
The man tickled your side, and you laughed again. You handed him the basket and kissed him on the cheek.
🧍‍♀️ oh. I personally don't fuck with strangers tickling me please goodness I hope it's addam
Whores were professional liars. You paid them to pretend to be someone they were not. But watching you with a man you truly loved would forever break the fantasy. There was no way he could believe the sweetest lies on your tongue, not when he knew what you looked like when truly in love.
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Men shouldnt have rights
“I looked for you in the brothel, but you were not there.”
CRISTI WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS BULLSHIT I WILL RHAE ROYCE THIS FUCKING DEGENERATE
“I… Excuse me?” Your voice is shrill, more angered than panicked. “Do I know you?”
🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️STAB HIM????!!!!!
And oh, the nerve on you. The nerve to question him, as if he were just a passing man on the street and not a Prince of House Targaryen. The same nerve that drove you to stand your ground against Caraxes.
❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓ LICK THE BOTTOM OF MY SHOE YOU CAME TO ME???????? 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🧱🧱🧱🧱🧱🧱🧱🧱🧱🧱
“You should be more careful on how you address your betters.”
?????????????? DONT TALK TO SOMEONE BENEATH YOU????? 100 YEARS IN JAIL????
You shove him, hard. And Daemon feels his rage bubbling up, and raises a hand to do something he will most likely regret… But before he can strike you, the man you had been smiling at steps in.
HE WAS WHAT????? 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪 IM GOING TO FUCKING GOUGE HIS EYES OUT
“And who are you? The husband? The brothel owner?” Daemon sneers, getting in his face. Your hand comes up in between them, fragile and unadorned. Yet, you hit with strength, palm flat against his chest. Daemon laughs and grabs it between his. You attempt to pull back, but his grip is much firmer. “Ah, cupping a feeling, sweetheart?”
??????? BEAT HIS FUCKING ASSSSSS STAB HIM AND BASH HIS FUCKING FACE IN ALYNN???????
“I do not care. Unhand her. We do things different in Driftmark.”
STAB HIM CORLYSSSS
“YOU DO THINGS different here, for certain.” Prince Daemon says, appearing at your window while you knead bread.
CASUALLY BREAKING INTO PEOPLES HOUSES????????? POLICE 🚓🚨
“I won’t hurt you, my lady. I didn’t mean to scare you, either.” His voice is gentle, as if dealing with a spooked animal.
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STAB HIM GURL STAB HIM RIGHT FUCKING NOW
As a child, you used to watch Laena Velaryon and pretend you were her.
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You are no lady. You are a bastard girl, and you have gone to bed nearly starving more times than you could count.
)))): my poor girl. My baby girl
“Any child of mine, even if natural-born, would never have to go hungry. Your father should be doing more for you, not hiding you three like a shameful secret.”
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Am I supposed to be impressed? Am I supposed to pat you on the back?
“Here.” Prince Daemon pushes the parcel through the window. “Consider this my apology for my behavior. Rather uncouth, huh?”
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Baho mo gago
Curious, you peer into one of the parcels. It’s full of cured meat.it would have cost him a pretty penny, having it already preserved for you. It is a luxury Addam, Allyn and you never get to have. Not since your mother passed.
))): I hate this so much for them
He says it is because he enjoys the walk. You are not entirely sold, but thinking it is to see you seems a bit conceited.
Be conceited diva WHO IS THIS DIVAAA
Daemon laughs. He uses his now free hand to tug you towards his side. You love when he does that. The gesture feels very protective. He never lets you walk too far from him, or on the side next to the ocean, so you never stumble or get soaked by an errant wave.
Ew
“Wouldn’t you like to go somewhere else?” You ask him, watching the waves lap at the shore. Then, feeling stupid for asking, you lower your eyes. As much as you feign blindness, you are not blind. He is probably ashamed to be seen with the likes of you. Even your father is. Why wouldn’t a Prince?
I believe all men should experience the pain of child birth and labor constantly forever
Your eyes feel warm, and your vision blurs. Gods, you hate crying.
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“Close enough. A tad more lemony than the one at Driftmark, but I like it.” He smiles. You fight the urge to beam. He has been coming almost daily after bringing you the lemons, but it is the first time you allow him to taste your creation.
First of all fuck you second of all you're not cute third of all ITS HER FIRST TIME fourth of all I'm glad you can AT LEAST make her happy. THE BAR IS IN HELL
Your mother and you are different. She didn’t know your father was using her. You know Daemon is using you. And you intend to use him right back, milk him for all of his worth.
💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔 MILK HIM BLEED HIM SUCK HIM DRY
What your father is like, too. How they use women as if they were little more than things, how they produce children and leave them to their fates.
Not all men EXPLAIN THIS THEN
“Do you listen to yourself?” You scoff, getting up. “Maidenheads, as if I were some great lady. I can handle it. Handle him.”
😬 yeesh famous last words
“To my room. The two of you have ruined my appetite.” But it wasn’t the two of them, not really. Daemon is ashamed of you, the voice in your head whispers. Ashamed of you, just like your father was. He only wants to use you, and once he has had his fill, he will discard you. Just like your father did to your mother.
MY POOR GIRL MY POOR POOR GIRL
Yet, your dark eyes were so kind, your face full of such happiness, Daemon dared not to sully you. Something in you screamed at his instincts to protect, something tugged at his heartstrings when he saw your face scrunched up towards the sun, and told him to gather you in his arms and never let anything touch you.
BROTHER EUGHHHH GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER GIRL RUNNNN ILL WWE ROYAL RUMBLE SMACK DOWN ELBOW TO THE FACE STEEL CHAIR THIS BOZO
Bedding you would ruin you. Daemon enjoyed playing the role of mentor, teaching you new things, helping you gain experiences you would never get as a bastard girl. Yet, you had such a tempting figure, with a mouth made for sin, and a body that begged for worship. You were a little girl, but you had all the self-possession and looks of a grown woman.
MY FUCKING GOODNESS CAN HE JUST BE FUCKING NORMAL IS IT SO HARD FOR HIM NOT TO FUCKING THINK WITH HIS COCK FUCK YOU DIE
“I was thinking…” Daemon says, watching your expression closely. “We could go to a tavern tonight.”
You think? Terrible idea btw fuck off
“It’s rowdy, but in a good sense.” Daemon cannot help it. Your curls are a bit mussed, from wearing the ugly headscarf for too long. He fixes them, fluffing them up slightly at the roots in the way he has seen handmaidens do for Laena. He then tosses the damn thing into the sea, for good measure, ignoring your outraged cry. “Drinks, music, people, greasy food. You will love it.”
NOTHING IS FUCKING SACRED LITERALLY KEEP YOUR HANDS RO YOURSELF MY SCARF IS MY BUSINESS YOU HAVE TERRIBLE MANNERS AND YET IM THE PEASANT FUCK YOU CHOKE ON YOUR GREASY FOOD I HOPE THE ROWDY CROWDS TEAR YOU APART
“I hate drinking.” You wrinkle your nose, cutely. He fights the urge to bite you. The face you make is too sweet, too tempting.
Why would you write him this way. Why is this endearing. HAJIMA STOP
“Because you have only drunk swill. I’ll teach you to drink real wine.” He tugs you into his side, and begins walking back into the city.
Ok alcoholic.
Still, you face it all bravely, as you had that morning at the docks. The two of you manage to get a cozy table in one tavern that Daemon had visited before. He calls for wine to be served, an expensive barrel from the Arbor he is sure they had kept around for years before anyone had the coin to buy it.
No cuz she's better than me I fucking hate being stared at I hatttttteere it she's so much better than me
“Come here, hunes.” His own voice sounds strange to him, low and demanding. When he calls you bunny, he is not exaggerating. Does the fox feel as wrong as he feels when becoming over his prey? Does his gums ache like Daemon’s do, with the urge to bite, to tear apart, to wound? Does he mourn the little bunny whose innocence he is about to shatter? “There is something I wish to show you.”
So you agree
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You're a predator
You splutter, but Daemon holds you down, arms held by your side. He forces you to take and take some more, chasing the tart taste of the wine into the honeyed one of your mouth.
NDJDJD YUCCKKKKK (I'm into this shit) YUCCKKKK FUCKING HELL DIE RUNNNNN GIRL RUNNN
“Do you trust me?”
Absolute the fuck not. Eat broken glass
“I did not think it to be true.” A woman’s voice, one he knows too well, says. Rhaenys. Her face is a mask of absolute rage. She gives you a shove that sends you stumbling before Daemon can even get out of his chair. “You have much nerve.”
RHAENYSSSS NOOOO PLEASEEE NOOOO NOT THE VILLAIN ARC NOOO PLEASE )))): I DO NAWT BLAME HER BUT NDJDJNDKSKSKKSKS
“I am talking to you!” Rhaenys insists. You cower behind him. It only makes Rhaenys angrier. “No, not you, you stupid girl. You, Daemon.”
THE WAY I FUCKING SCREAMMMEDDS
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BEATTTTT HISS ASSSSS
🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️BEATTTT HISSS ASSSSS
“Are you calling me a whore?”
Well I ain't callin yo ass a prude IF THE SHOE FITS DIPSHIT
He feels the slap before he even sees her move. His head gets forcefully turned to the side, and he hears you whimper. His cheek stings. Daemon has to blink back tears, Rhaenys has hit him that hard.
IM DOING A DANCY DANCE LITERALLY EXPLODE
What Daemon had done to you had seemed purposeful. You had not realized when he had stolen the kiss from you, giving you your first taste of fine wine, but you understood it now. Had Princess Rhaenys not been there, or had she been any less merciful, a much different fate would have awaited you.
😭😭😭😭😭 IM CRYING MY POOR POOR GIRLLLL
“Daughter.”
😃🔪🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕
“It’s a pleasure to finally have you join the family.”
BURN IN HELL ❤️
Addam and Allyn are still in the crowd, unacknowledged. They are your family, not this man who is grasping your hands with a calculating gleam in his eyes. Wondering, as all highborn do, how he might use you. How you might serve to further his own ends.
))))))))))))))))):
“I figured you wouldn’t have one of these.” Her smile is strained as she reaches for your hands. “Since you weren’t raised the proper way.”
FUCKING HELLLLSSSSSS DAMNNNNN MDIRNSJJSJSNSJSMSKANSNNSSJAJAKAKAKAKAKAKJANANAN STOPPPPPP
“I do not think I will.” Daemon cups your cheek in his hand, hands gentle despite the calluses on them. It was one of the things you had first liked about him. His hands were artisan’s hands, like the ones of your brothers, despite being highborn. He had seemed so different from the rest of the men you knew, back then. “Not when my betrothed is nearly weeping in her own feast.”
? I don't like you never have never will I hope you have a heart attack
You bloom under his praise.
I hate that for you.... *Sigh* congrats ig
There is no other word for it. It warms you, from head to toe, and your stomach fills with butterflies. A small smile forms, even through the tears that threaten to fall.
)))): I hate this for you so much baby girl
“There she is.” Daemon brushes his thumb over your cheek. “That’s my girl.”
? Ok? Get it ig. Fuck shit up for her. It's the only thing you're good for.
“Be mine instead.” Daemon whispers, and when you nod, he kisses your forehead.
Oh that's not
“I would protect you.” You say, and it warms something inside Daemon he wasn’t even aware that he had. “If only because killing a Prince is a crime worthy of the ax, and I wish to have nephews.”
😭😭😭😭😭 my girllllll. Get it ig. I'm glad she's happy. That's all that matters
THIS WAS A RIDE. I LOVE HOW MUCH I HATE HIM. I HOPE HE DIES 😃😃😃😃
On a real level, it made me think how fascinated I am in exploring themes such as gender class whatnot and how I as a writer myself am unashamed to admit 'yeah I write daemon fucked up, s'part of the appeal' while simultaneously just being unwilling to let him take the piss ya know HAHAHAH LIKE I WONT DEFEND THIS MAN HES FUCKED UP AND FICTIONAL DIEEEEE ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
The Brave (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)
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Summary: A collection of first times with Daemon.
Warnings: Bastard! Reader. Daddy issues. Corruption kink. Innocence kink. Age difference, power imbalance. Poorly translated HV. Angst. Enemies to lovers (Sort of?) Happy ending. Usual warnings for Daemon (Sexual thoughts, mature language, violence)
Requested: Yes! My first after Halloween, life has been crazy.
THE FISHERMEN SAIL too early for your liking. You know it has little to do with their personal preference, and more to do with the tides. It doesn’t mean you are happy about it, though.
Your job is to ensure all your ships are in good condition and ready to transport whatever those men bring home. Your mother had made a small fortune by expanding her father’s fleet, and after her passing, it was your turn to handle it. You preferred to oversee things personally, knowing that only an owner’s touch could ensure the quality of service you prided yourself in.
No one loved these ships more than you. Small and old they were, but they tied you to your mother. You lacked her knowledge, and sometimes, they made you far less money than you hoped for, but you insisted on keeping them. Your siblings had not shown such an interest, choosing other pursuits.
Allyn, much more practical, had preferred to learn the trade of a shipwright. He now worked under Lord Corlys. It embarrassed you to say it, but it was him and not you who was the breadwinner of your family. Some months, if not most, it was far more lucrative than your business with the ships.
Addam worked occasionally as a shipwright too, but he didn’t have a steady source of income. He was far too young to be hired anywhere, lacking the experience most lords wanted from those building their ships. Sometimes, he also helped you.
Today wasn’t one of those days. Otherwise, you would have forced him to come here in your stead. With a grumble, you jumped from the ship to the dock. Everything was as it should, so you had to move to the next one.
The sunrise makes Hull look even more beautiful, the city slowly beginning to rise under Driftmark’s watchful eyes. The white marble and ivory of the castle provide a backdrop for the goldens and pinks that color the scene. It would make you smile, were it not for the fact that the peaceful morning is ruined by every damn bell in the city tolling.
Visitors. Noble ones. By the amount of noise, they are announcing the visit of someone very high ranking.
The splash of cold water against your ankle makes you grumble more. You hated getting your shoes wet. Or your ankles. You fix your hair scarf, worried that the sea breeze will make it come loose.
You shouldn’t have bothered. A harsh gust of wind takes it fully off and nearly sends you caroling into the water. The dock shakes underneath you, the ships and water agitated by the same thing. You scream, as do the rest of the sailors who are near.
As you look up, you see him. A man, with silver hair and a smug look on his face, riding atop a dragon. He is showing off, ducking low, the dragon’s tail dipping in the water before springing back up again. It is what is causing the breeze. You marvel for a second, wondering how such a gigantic beast can be so nimble.
You had never seen a dragon up close before. You are not allowed to go near Driftmark, where the Princess and the Lord and Lady keep theirs.
The few captains and sailors that were on the docks alongside you have fled. But not you. Alone, silver hair in full display, you stand frozen in the same spot you had been before seeing him pass.
The man smiles. He winks at you.
You lower your eyes and do not stop running until you are safe at home.
DAEMON SEES YOU again when he least expects it. He has looked for you in every pleasure house on this island and has not been able to find you. The brave little maiden with silver hair, who had screamed bloody murder but stood her ground on the docks when she saw him approach.
You must be of Valyrian descent. There is no other explanation for your lack of fear. You were young and comely, so he had guessed that you must be a whore. It was what happened to girls who looked like you. Men loved pretending they were either a Princess or the daughter of some lord. And so close to Driftmark? They probably asked you to pretend you were little Laena Velaryon.
Daemon would have so enjoyed to play such a game himself. His future bride was far too young to do little more than court under her parents’ watchful eyes. If he could sneak a bit of a taste in advance, you wouldn’t catch him complaining about it.
When he had agreed to accompany Corlys to oversee the progress being made on the news ships for his fleet, the last thing he expected to encounter was you.
Your laughter was the first thing that caught his attention, a sound so girlish it seemed improper among the men carrying saws and woods for the ships. His head had turned instinctively towards the sound, and it was then that he saw you.
The dress you had on was a plain gray, as it was the headscarf you wore. But Daemon would know that face anywhere. He had sought everywhere for it. You were holding a small basket, next to some shipwright. The man looked older than you, already bald. You were all smiles and animated gestures, seemingly taken by him.
The man tickled your side, and you laughed again. You handed him the basket and kissed him on the cheek.
Daemon seethed. He hated sharing. With whores, it was to be expected, yet it didn’t make it anymore palatable. It was why he enjoyed taking maidenheads so much. Yet, he could ignore it if the woman was pretty or well-trained enough, like he did with Mysaria. To watch a whore with her lover, though, it was intolerable.
Whores were professional liars. You paid them to pretend to be someone they were not. But watching you with a man you truly loved would forever break the fantasy. There was no way he could believe the sweetest lies on your tongue, not when he knew what you looked like when truly in love.
Is it in bad taste to approach you when his future father-in-law is distracted by his sailors? Probably. But he cannot stop himself. Because the only thing Daemon can think of, the only thing that would make him feel better, is to bring you as low as he. Ruin your little fantasy as you had ruined his.
He marches towards where the man and you are, and gently cups your chin in his hand. The sudden interruption startles you, and you try taking a step back, but his sweet hold has turned into Valyrian Steel. There is no escape for little whores.
“I looked for you in the brothel, but you were not there.”
“I… Excuse me?” Your voice is shrill, more angered than panicked. “Do I know you?”
And oh, the nerve on you. The nerve to question him, as if he were just a passing man on the street and not a Prince of House Targaryen. The same nerve that drove you to stand your ground against Caraxes.
Begrudgingly, Daemon has to name the strange feeling taking place in his stomach. Awe. Admiration. You had fire in your belly, and steel on your spine. You were a truer Valyrian than many of his own family members.
They were weak. Soft. You were not. But you were still a mere peasant, and he couldn’t allow you to disrespect him such.
“You should be more careful on how you address your betters.”
You shove him, hard. And Daemon feels his rage bubbling up, and raises a hand to do something he will most likely regret… But before he can strike you, the man you had been smiling at steps in.
“Unhand her.” He says, voice firm. His expression doesn’t waver, the same steel you have mirrored in his brown eyes. Up close, he is much younger than Daemon expected, tall and muscular from what seems like a life of hard work. He tugs you behind him.
“And who are you? The husband? The brothel owner?” Daemon sneers, getting in his face. Your hand comes up in between them, fragile and unadorned. Yet, you hit with strength, palm flat against his chest. Daemon laughs and grabs it between his. You attempt to pull back, but his grip is much firmer. “Ah, cupping a feeling, sweetheart?”
“Daemon.” And really, things were just turning interesting. Why does Corlys have to interrupt at the worst time possible? “Unhand her immediately.”
At his appearance, both you and the boy turn an awful gray shade that matches your dress and headscarf. Fear of their liege, perhaps?
But the boy’s jaw ticks, and your dark eyes lower in a manner that they hadn’t when facing him. Something else is at play here.
“I was just…” Daemon slowly retracts his hand, studying the surrounding faces carefully. You, sullen, the boy enraged. Corlys’ cold as ice. Neither of you speak, yet it is clear you are not strangers.
“I do not care. Unhand her. We do things different in Driftmark.”
And the tone Corlys uses is strange, for a man unbothered by the costs of power. What are two peasants to the favor of a Prince? Why does he know them? He had never struck Daemon as someone concerned by his subjects.
And then, a piece of your hair falls out of your headscarf. Silver against a dark background. And it is then he knows it. You are no dragonseed. Nor is the boy with the shaved head.
“YOU DO THINGS different here, for certain.” Prince Daemon says, appearing at your window while you knead bread. His presence is as unexpected as it is unwelcome. It is the first time you are home alone after the incident, not Addam nor Allyn willing to risk this stranger attempting anything worse than he already has. Three days had passed, and they had considered it enough. If the man had not approached you during that time, it meant he wouldn’t, right? Clearly no. He had just been bidding his time, waiting for both of your brothers to go. “Corlys's little secret.”
Your hands shake. You wished Allyn wasn’t so set on teaching Addam his craft, and hadn’t gone out today. Being home alone with a strange man around didn’t spell anything good for you.
A quick glance at the door reassures you that it is still barred. You take a not so subtle step back from the window.
The prince lip’s quirk upwards, not quite a smile, but betraying his amusement. Does he find your fear funny?
“I won’t hurt you, my lady. I didn’t mean to scare you, either.” His voice is gentle, as if dealing with a spooked animal. The title makes you scoff. No one has ever called you a lady, much less a Prince.
As a child, you used to watch Laena Velaryon and pretend you were her. Wondering what life would have been like if you didn’t have to hide, if your father acknowledged you. Wondering what it would feel, to be a Lady and never go to bed hungry, to be surrounded by beauty all day.
You are no lady. You are a bastard girl, and you have gone to bed nearly starving more times than you could count.
As if sensing your thoughts, Prince Daemon lifts one of his hands. He holds up a package, wrapped in bright white silk. Both he and his gift look deeply out of place here, near your window. In his fine clothes, in brighter colors than you can afford, he sticks out like a sore thumb.
“Any child of mine, even if natural-born, would never have to go hungry. Your father should be doing more for you, not hiding you three like a shameful secret.”
You do not take the parcel. You merely look at him and fight an overwhelming urge to cry.
“Here.” Prince Daemon pushes the parcel through the window. “Consider this my apology for my behavior. Rather uncouth, huh?”
You open it carefully. Two smaller parcels fall from it, both as carefully wrapped.
“You can wear the silk.” He tells you, gesturing to your hair. “And the rest…”
Curious, you peer into one of the parcels. It’s full of cured meat.it would have cost him a pretty penny, having it already preserved for you. It is a luxury Addam, Allyn and you never get to have. Not since your mother passed.
With rushed hands, you open the other parcel. A small sack of flour, lemons, and pages torn from a book. They are all expensive things, nothing like the flour you buy at the market to make bread or the bruised fruit you get when Addam craves something sweet. You squint at the pages, puzzled by their presence.
“Mix one cup of flour with… Is this..?” You ask him, astonished. A small smile begins to form on your face.
“The recipe for lemon cakes. For your baking.” He smiles back. He then gestures to your hands, still covered in flour. “I hear you enjoy it. Just… Save me a piece.”
“Thank you.” You beam at him. He gives you a bow, and leaves. You find yourself smiling like a fool the rest of the afternoon.
You cannot believe it. Prince Daemon has just given you the recipe for lemon cakes. As far apologies go, this is a great one.
Addam and Allyn go to bed with full stomachs. You go to bed with yours full of butterflies. No one has ever ensured such for the three of you.
“IS IT CLOSE enough?” You bite your lower lip, watching Daemon chew a piece of cake. His brows furrow a bit, and he lets out a small, throaty moan.
“Close enough. A tad more lemony than the one at Driftmark, but I like it.” He smiles. You fight the urge to beam. He has been coming almost daily after bringing you the lemons, but it is the first time you allow him to taste your creation.
He says it is because he enjoys the walk. You are not entirely sold, but thinking it is to see you seems a bit conceited.
“I got excited.” You scratch the back of your neck, sheepish. The batter had smelt and tasted so heavenly, you had just kept adding more.
Daemon laughs. He uses his now free hand to tug you towards his side. You love when he does that. The gesture feels very protective. He never lets you walk too far from him, or on the side next to the ocean, so you never stumble or get soaked by an errant wave.
It’s peaceful here. He often says he cares not for the ocean, but the two of you always walk the same route. From your home, towards your ships, then back.
“Wouldn’t you like to go somewhere else?” You ask him, watching the waves lap at the shore. Then, feeling stupid for asking, you lower your eyes. As much as you feign blindness, you are not blind. He is probably ashamed to be seen with the likes of you. Even your father is. Why wouldn’t a Prince?
Your eyes feel warm, and your vision blurs. Gods, you hate crying. You try to focus on something else. Your scuffed shoes. His boots. The sand under your feet. The urge to run away, and scream, and die from the humiliation of even asking.
Daemon sighs. He sits down on the sand, patting the space on his side. His clothes, despite their simple design, are very fine.
“Your clothes…” You mumble, without sitting.
“Bah, I have three other cloaks like this one.” As if proving a point, he takes it off, laying it down for you to sit. You feel even sillier at his patience. “Come. Sit down, jorrāeliarzys.”
You obey him because there is little else to do. You have already messed up, you don’t wish to make any other mistake. His company has become precious to you, a welcome respite from your brothers. Living with two boys, you are never alone. But every so often, you wish for more engaging conversation.
“I am not ashamed of being seen in your company. I just… I thought you preferred it here.” Daemon explains, softly tucking a stray curl behind your ear. “Would you like for us to meet in the city, instead?”
You think of meeting him in the city’s market. Of the rumors that would sure follow, of the names you would be called. Of your father finding out. You know what it would look like to him. That you are making the same mistake as your mother did.
You are not dumb. Daemon is not here to simply plan an alliance. Alliances are always sealed in blood, and your half sister is barely old enough to be considered.
Your mother and you are different. She didn’t know your father was using her. You know Daemon is using you. And you intend to use him right back, milk him for all of his worth.
So why does it hurt like this, why does it feel like something inside you is breaking?
You take the parcels he gives you without any shame. That night, as the three of you are eating a generous serving of venison, Allyn scowls.
“I don’t like it. Can’t you see what he wants?”
Addam’s fork freezes midway to his mouth. He looks down at his plate, as if he is truly seeing the meat he is being served for the first time.
“I am not mother.” You say, icily. The venison tastes bitter on your tongue, but stubbornly, you keep eating. Allyn is just angry that it is not longer him who is putting the meals on the table. “I know what highborn men are like.”
What your father is like, too. How they use women as if they were little more than things, how they produce children and leave them to their fates.
“All the more reason not to allow him to take your maidenhead.”
“Do you listen to yourself?” You scoff, getting up. “Maidenheads, as if I were some great lady. I can handle it. Handle him.”
Allyn looks at you, eyes full of pity. You cannot bear it. Your eyes sting again. You hurry out of the table.
“Where are you going?” Addam reaches forward, as if to grab you.
“To my room. The two of you have ruined my appetite.” But it wasn’t the two of them, not really. Daemon is ashamed of you, the voice in your head whispers. Ashamed of you, just like your father was. He only wants to use you, and once he has had his fill, he will discard you. Just like your father did to your mother.
Alone, in your room, you tear the headscarf he had given you to shreds. You squeeze the rests on your palm, you make a ball, you throw it against the wall.
The next morning, you have sobbed your throat raw. You still go to meet him in the afternoon.
SOMETHING IS WRONG. Daemon can tell when he picks you up that day. Your eyes are swollen and bloodshot, and your complexion an awful gray. The headscarf he had given you is nowhere to be seen, and you are back to your severe gray one.
Like a bad case of heartburn, the lie he had told you comes back to him, leaving an acrid taste in his mouth.
Daemon is not ashamed of you, but doesn't want to be seen with you either. The consequences for you would be too great. He had learned his lesson with Mysaria. The double stain would have made you a pariah, both because of your birth and because of whom you were bedding.
Because it was all that people would think about when they found out. No one would believe Daemon had yet to touch you.
He was unsure if he ever would.
You were an extraordinary girl, yet still a bastard. There was nothing to be done about it. All you could be was friends and lovers, and nothing more.
Yet, your dark eyes were so kind, your face full of such happiness, Daemon dared not to sully you. Something in you screamed at his instincts to protect, something tugged at his heartstrings when he saw your face scrunched up towards the sun, and told him to gather you in his arms and never let anything touch you.
Daemon had been like you, once. When younger. He, too, felt a lack of acknowledgement by those around you, and an urge to prove himself. His father had passed when he was still young, and Viserys had received all laurels. It would have never bothered him because he loved his brother, but Viserys had left him behind. Married Aemma. Had children. Gained the love of his people, found new friends.
Never once Viserys had looked at Daemon. No matter how hard he tried to reach for him, his brother always evaded his hand. Daemon had been left there. He, too, had stood on the shadows and feigned indifference, burning up with secret resentment.
The idea of you growing up to be like him was both appealing and horrifying. There was a sweetness to you, a naïveté that he had lacked even in his younger years. He wanted to preserve it. Shield you from the world.
Bedding you would ruin you. Daemon enjoyed playing the role of mentor, teaching you new things, helping you gain experiences you would never get as a bastard girl. Yet, you had such a tempting figure, with a mouth made for sin, and a body that begged for worship. You were a little girl, but you had all the self-possession and looks of a grown woman.
You would taste exquisite on his tongue, crumbling from his caresses. Your cunt would feel like wet velvet around him, and you would sound your sweetest when he was spearing you open on his cock.
And how would you smile, joyous and fierce, his brave girl. Some maidens cried, but not you. You were made of sterner stuff, a heart that burned brighter and stronger than the Fourteen Flames. You had stood your ground, terrified but unbowed, in front of Caraxes himself.
Such a face you had, all Valyrian empress. A sovereign nose, the fleeting shadow of your eyelashes, and a slippery laugh that always gave you an air of mischief. A face not made for sadness. It is what prompts him to do what will become either the greatest mistake of his life, or his greatest triumph.
“I was thinking…” Daemon says, watching your expression closely. “We could go to a tavern tonight.”
“A tavern?” The surprising offering shakes you out of your sadness. Your face changes from a sad little frown into a curious one.
“Have you ever gone to one?” Daemon tugs the hair scarf from your hair, softly. The silver curls fall free, in a lovely mess. You scowl, trying to get it back, but he holds it just out of your reach. It’s a lovely thing, to watch you give little jumps on your tiptoes, curls bouncing with the motion. “Ah! None of that, now. Answer my question first.”
“No, I haven’t. Addam and Allyn go from time to time, but it sounds too rowdy for my liking.” You cross your arms over your chest.
“It’s rowdy, but in a good sense.” Daemon cannot help it. Your curls are a bit mussed, from wearing the ugly headscarf for too long. He fixes them, fluffing them up slightly at the roots in the way he has seen handmaidens do for Laena. He then tosses the damn thing into the sea, for good measure, ignoring your outraged cry. “Drinks, music, people, greasy food. You will love it.”
“I hate drinking.” You wrinkle your nose, cutely. He fights the urge to bite you. The face you make is too sweet, too tempting.
“Because you have only drunk swill. I’ll teach you to drink real wine.” He tugs you into his side, and begins walking back into the city.
The walk to the city is awkward. Not because the two of you have nothing to talk about, but rather, because of the stares. Your silver hair, despite your simple clothing, commands attention. So does Daemon’s presence, and the arm he has around your shoulders.
He had not been wrong. This would cost you. A cost too steep for someone he sought to keep safe.
Still, you face it all bravely, as you had that morning at the docks. The two of you manage to get a cozy table in one tavern that Daemon had visited before. He calls for wine to be served, an expensive barrel from the Arbor he is sure they had kept around for years before anyone had the coin to buy it.
It’s delicious. But when he serves you a goblet, you take a big sip and begin to splutter.
“Mittys hunes iksā.” Daemon tuts. His silly bunny. “You are not meant to drink it such. You ought to savor it.”
“Savor?” You arch an eyebrow. “Tastes like dragonfire.”
And perhaps it's the choice of words, or the glint of your silver hair under the low light emanating from the torches, but something about you reminds him of the way he had loved Rhaenyra and admired Laena, the other Valyrian beauties in his life. They are not here, he cannot reach them. But you are.
“Come here, hunes.” His own voice sounds strange to him, low and demanding. When he calls you bunny, he is not exaggerating. Does the fox feel as wrong as he feels when becoming over his prey? Does his gums ache like Daemon’s do, with the urge to bite, to tear apart, to wound? Does he mourn the little bunny whose innocence he is about to shatter? “There is something I wish to show you.”
You eye him warily, but get up from your chair and move until you are standing in front of him. It's not enough for Daemon. It never is. He always wants you closer, closer to hold, to protect, to own.
He tugs you between his parted legs.
“Do you trust me?”
There is a slight furrow of your brow. The barest hint of hesitation. Yet, your voice is firm when you answer him.
“Yes.”
His girl. His precious girl. If you had been his, he would have never hurt you like Corlys had. Never allowed to become easy prey for men like him. You shouldn’t trust him.
Daemon shouldn’t be doing this, either. It is a good thing he has never claimed to be a good man.
He takes a sip of his wine, and leans towards you, capturing your mouth in his. At first, you fight him, the suddenness startling you. It’s only when he gives your lower lip a sharp nip, that you melt into the kiss. When your mouth parts slightly, he passes you the wine.
You splutter, but Daemon holds you down, arms held by your side. He forces you to take and take some more, chasing the tart taste of the wine into the honeyed one of your mouth.
Your obedience and compliance only makes him wilder, drives him to grasp at your hips, pull you closer. Just when you begin to lean into Daemon, dutifully swallowing the wine, someone jerks you out of his grip.
“I did not think it to be true.” A woman’s voice, one he knows too well, says. Rhaenys. Her face is a mask of absolute rage. She gives you a shove that sends you stumbling before Daemon can even get out of his chair. “You have much nerve.”
Your face turns ashen. You look like you are about to cry, or worse, flee. Daemon jumps up, and gets between Rhaenys and you.
“You were always a whore!” She screams, her index finger digging into his chest. You let out a sob, quietly. Daemon’s heart feels like it is being wrenched from his chest. At this point, the screams have attracted all the tavern's attention. Daemon doesn’t doubt that by this time tomorrow, the whole island will know.
You will be shunned. Just as he had feared.
“I am talking to you!” Rhaenys insists. You cower behind him. It only makes Rhaenys angrier. “No, not you, you stupid girl. You, Daemon.”
Daemon feels utterly stunned. Never in a million years he would have thought Rhaenys was referring to him.
“Are you calling me a whore?”
He feels the slap before he even sees her move. His head gets forcefully turned to the side, and he hears you whimper. His cheek stings. Daemon has to blink back tears, Rhaenys has hit him that hard.
He wasn’t even aware that a woman could land such a blow.
“You dare! You toyed with my daughter and this girl as you saw fit.” And Daemon cannot even get a word in because she is too angry. He feels his cheeks reddening, and its unsure if he is feeling embarrassment at being scolded like a child, or rage at her words. “But worry not. I will make this right.”
Rhaenys has a manic gleam in her eyes. For a frightening second, Daemon thinks he sees in her the famous Targaryen madness.
Instead of setting you both on fire, she lunges, avoiding Daemon, and grabbing you hands in hers.
“I shall not allow you to make the same mistake your mother did.” Rhaenys says, and she is gone before Daemon can answer anything.
THIS IS YOUR greatest triumph. Why, then, does it taste like ashes on your tongue?
You are wearing the finest dress you have ever owned, gifted to you by Daemon. Princess Rhaenys has forced both him and your father into complacency, and even forced King Viserys to allow your betrothal. Still, you feel adrift. Even betrayed.
What Daemon had done to you had seemed purposeful. You had not realized when he had stolen the kiss from you, giving you your first taste of fine wine, but you understood it now. Had Princess Rhaenys not been there, or had she been any less merciful, a much different fate would have awaited you.
The stink of shame that followed you around, the whispers of dishonor and the looks of distaste, would have been even more intense. You would have been ruined, known as little more than a whore. And your family no longer had the money that had shielded your mother during her pregnancies.
You had not known it. But Daemon must have. He had a reputation for taking maidenheads as he saw fit, Addam had informed you. You were a fool for not knowing, and a fool for believing he wanted something else from you.
The royal decree is read by a Maester, in front of all the Lords of near castles, the smallfolk of Driftmark and the Velaryons. Even in the first beautiful dress you own, you feel small. Out of place. The looks your half siblings are shooting you do not help you feel better.
Once the bill is read, Lord Corlys steps forward.
“Daughter.” He says, grasping your hands in his. He is cold. He is cold, and it makes your skin crawl, even when it is all you wanted as a little girl. It’s the first time he acknowledges you, and he is not at all like the man you imagined, when dreaming as a child of what it would be like for him to look at you. Because even a glance would have been enough back then. “It’s a pleasure to finally have you join the family.”
Addam and Allyn are still in the crowd, unacknowledged. They are your family, not this man who is grasping your hands with a calculating gleam in his eyes. Wondering, as all highborn do, how he might use you. How you might serve to further his own ends.
Your brothers could not be recognized as you were. You had shyly asked Princess Rhaenys, and if she thought you dimwitted before, she had probably confirmed her suspicions. They were men, she had explained, and a threat to Laenor’s rights once your father passed. You, instead, were nothing but a girl who had sullied herself, whose honor had been compromised so thoroughly you had turned even less important in the great scheme of things.
She was helping you because you had been taken advantage of by Daemon, Princess Rhaenys had said, but also to spare her daughter from your fate. Wife to a husband that would most likely betray you and sire bastards.
Lord Corlys was just happy to have another pawn to marry off and forge alliances. Freeing his daughter from a disloyal husband was an added bonus.
Every time you heard them, your hands turned into fist, and you could barely fight the rage from clouding your expression. You had not done the thing everyone was accusing you of, and yet were being judged for it all the same. Daemon, too, did nothing to correct them. Not even when the most scandalous rumors surfaced, saying you would wed him with a child already in your belly.
You had not let him touch you like that. You were not as stupid as everyone thought. As a daughter to a single mother, you knew all about scorn and loneliness. You would never doom a child to your same fate.
The day doesn’t pick up from there. The feast to follow feels just as empty, and you turn down an insincere offer from your father to be housed here. You cannot wait to run back to your brothers.
It would be impolite to leave so soon, though. Lord Corlys has thrown this feast in your honor and is making the lords and members of his household present you with gifts. You admit it is a clever strategy, to avoid having to spend money in your trousseau. Hence, you need to stay a little bit longer.
You get handed new quills and parchments, alongside a new seal for your correspondence by Laena.
“I figured you wouldn’t have one of these.” Her smile is strained as she reaches for your hands. “Since you weren’t raised the proper way.” It says a lot about the company you are in that it is the most polite greeting you receive all afternoon.
When it all begins to become a bit much, and your eyes are stinging after a lady said you had no grace and no manners, you decide you need to run. But when you are stepping a foot outside the hall, Daemon appears by your side.
“Rather improper, isn’t it?” He asks, grabbing your hand in his. You try to jerk away, but he merely interlaces your fingers together. “A lady cannot quite run around unescorted as you used to.”
“Leave me alone, Daemon.” You say, still trying to free yourself. The last thing you want today is to deal with him.
“I do not think I will.” Daemon cups your cheek in his hand, hands gentle despite the calluses on them. It was one of the things you had first liked about him. His hands were artisan’s hands, like the ones of your brothers, despite being highborn. He had seemed so different from the rest of the men you knew, back then. “Not when my betrothed is nearly weeping in her own feast.”
“You heard all those people. I do not belong here.” You look up at him, fighting your tears. You feel like such a whiny child. What happened to you is something that only happens in fairytales, it's the stuff songs are written about. No bastard girl gets acknowledged by her father and marries a Prince.
“Who cares what those cunts think?” Daemon scoffs. “You are above them. You always were.”
You bloom under his praise. There is no other word for it. It warms you, from head to toe, and your stomach fills with butterflies. A small smile forms, even through the tears that threaten to fall.
“There she is.” Daemon brushes his thumb over your cheek. “That’s my girl.”
His girl. There is nothing you would like more.
“I never wanted to be a Lady.” You lower your eyes, embarrassed at the admission. You feel ungrateful for saying it, but it’s the truth. You had never imagined a home away from your siblings. The marriage will mean you will be taken away from them, and only see them if Daemon feels like it.
You do not own a dragon, after all. And you aren’t too sure Allyn and him will be the best good brothers.
He grabs you by the waist and gives a little tug.
“Be mine instead.” Daemon whispers, and when you nod, he kisses your forehead.
MARRYING YOU HAD never been in his plans. Yet, when he saw you walk down the aisle, dressed in Velaryon blue and looking awkward, Daemon was sure you were the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
You were not a lady or a princess, yet you and him were alike. Birds of the same feather. For the first time, Daemon could say there was someone who understood him.
Daemon had never been poor, nor had he been born a bastard, but he too, had lost his parents while young. He, too, was considered too wild by his brother. And he knew all about of trying to fulfill an impossible task while honoring the legacy of his ancestors.
Laena was a mere child by your side. Her innocence and Valyrian looks had appealed to him once, but after meeting you, Daemon knew no other woman could compare. There was an edge to you, beneath all the innocence and beauty. A fire that burned bright in your belly, and could not be quenched. An anger that both amazed him and scared him, and drew him in like a moth to a flame.
You would have been great if you had been born into his house. Great but terrible.
Or perhaps you wouldn’t have. Perhaps, if you had grown acknowledged by your father, you would have not been the lost little girl who dreamed of recognition and slept lulled by the sea. You wouldn’t have grown into the woman who got the recognition and understood she did not need it at all.
A shame that recognition had come at a price so steep. Recognition in exchange for rumors of dishonor, whispers of the shame of your existence and the shame you had brought on yourself. These cunts did not see you for what you were. Not some malicious creature, some silver tongued temptress. No. You were determined and fierce, brave and true. You honored your house’s words. Your ancestors would have been proud.
Yes, Daemon decided. He would marry you and take you away from here, from this horrible little island where people behaved like they were above you. The cunts should be honored that you were even looking their way.
The distance might even help those stubborn brothers of yours to forget all about the way Daemon had become part of their family. When the grudge was forgotten, he would bring you back, less the eldest skewered him alive.
Not because Daemon feared Allyn. Of course not. But because killing him would be such a nuisance, and you would cry, and… Ugh. He couldn’t stand to see you cry.
You were about to burst into tears right now. He could tell. Daemon grabbed your hands in his, uncaring he was breaking protocol, and pressed his forehead against yours.
“We can still marry on the beach, with only Caraxes as witness.” He whispers, gently. “Hells, I would prefer it. We can run still. The Septon has not spoken.”
You laugh, a bit watery.
“Addam and Allyn would drop dead, thinking we will not be wed.”
“Allyn looks like he would attempt murder.”
“Attempt?”
“I doubt he would succeed.”
“I would protect you.” You say, and it warms something inside Daemon he wasn’t even aware that he had. “If only because killing a Prince is a crime worthy of the ax, and I wish to have nephews.”
Daemon's mouth opens and closes.
“You little..!”
You laugh, but before he can lunge and throw you over his shoulder, the Septon clears his throat.
“If the two of you are done..?”
“Just get to the part where you handfast us.” Daemon says, giving him his best lecherous expression. “I have many things I wish to show my new bride.”
And there were. He had taken many of your firsts already, he wasn’t about to stop now.
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