#i forget when i made it already. these days i black out and art just spawns. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cellophaine · 8 days ago

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Chapter X: APPROACH

Masterlist

Pairing: Patrick Zweig x F!Reader, Art Donaldson x Tashi Duncan

Warnings: Angst.

Author's Note: I'm not going to apologize for what I've done, but I will apologize for uploading this chapter 10 minutes late.

GIF Source: @/spookyrps

2019. New Rochelle.

There was no music in the elevator, you noticed. You were alone with your thoughts that echoed back and forth in the chamber of your mind. Sleep didn't come easy the night before, even with the help of the prescribed sleeping pills you hardly ever reached for. After all these years, being face-to-face with Art still managed to draw a reaction from you. One that didn't make much sense. You were a different person now, as he was. Things had happened, and you had changed. Knowing that you were in the same building as Art Donaldson, separated by mere floors, shouldn't make you toss and turn in your bed. You were such a fool; you scolded yourself. He probably slept fine next to his gorgeous wife, with their adorable child in the room next to theirs.

Your likeness on the glossy surface of the elevator door appeared well-kempt, but it wasn't a truthful reflection of how you felt on the inside. The little makeup you used did its job, concealing the dark circles and adding colours to your face. Right there along the seam of yourself was the fatigue, worming its way into the slight slouch in your posture, weighing down your body's effort in keeping it upright. Remembering how your mom used to strike at your upper back so you would sit up straight, you straightened up out of an innate reflex.

The elevator door opened to reveal the first floor. You headed for the hallway Jennifer had led you down, barely passing the peripheral of Art as he stood there in the lobby, talking to a man you didn't recognize. You kept your face away from his direction and quickened your pace, hoping he hadn't spotted you yet. You sighed as the almost empty hallway welcomed you in, save for a couple of people ahead of you chattering about the seat placements. But the relief didn't last long. A familiar voice that you'd tried to forget for years called your name. The marble floor echoed the voice's owner's intention of catching up to you, hurried and rushed as if you were to disappear at any moment. You turned around, stopping him in his tracks – only a few steps from where you were standing.

Art was wearing casual attire, a fitted white t-shirt and black pants, yet he still managed to make them look phenomenal. He looked like he was about to head to practice. You remembered it, all those mornings after spending the night together, watching him getting ready for the day.

For a long moment, neither of you talked, only drinking each other in with your sights. Art broke the tension first, seeming to reprimand himself for staring at you.

"You look great."

"You, too."

You reciprocated, albeit a little cold. There was no reason for you to lie and no excuse for the conversation to be longer than it already was.

"It's good to see you."

You sighed and decided to cut to the chase.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm here for a challenger."

"No, I meant here, right now."

You pointed to the distance between you. His answer lingered on the tip of his tongue, undecided, but eventually rolled off and made itself audible to your ears.

"I … I want to talk to you."

"We have nothing to talk about."

You shook your head. Art took one step closer to you.

"I know that I'm not entitled to your time, but I've missed you."

The latter part ignited the anger in you. How could he say that so easily? You scoffed at his audacity; your own response came with a bite that aimed to hurt.

"I don't think your wife will appreciate what you've just said."

To your surprise, at the mention of the sore subject for the two of you, his resolve remained unchanged.

"Tashi has nothing to do with this."

"She has everything to do with us."

"Not when she resents me."

For the first time in your tense exchange, you relented. You searched for Art's eyes, looking for a hint of betrayal, of deception, but instead, you found defeat. Your resolve softened, and you felt the familiar pull of a memory from when you first met at the Stanford cafeteria thirteen years ago. Two lonely people meeting one another, and now, finding themselves in each other's paths again.

But it should end here.

"Your marriage problem isn't my responsibility to solve."

"I know, and I'm not asking you to. I just … want to talk about us."

You shrugged, keeping your tone nonchalant.

"There's no more us."

At that moment, a mix of voices from a group of people came out from the conference room area, chatting among themselves. The two of you involuntarily took a small step away from each other as if the guilt by distance association was enough to make anyone suspicious. Art's desperation was clear as day.

"Can we talk somewhere else?"

You couldn't say no, so you settled for the next best thing.

"I have to go."

"Can you at least think about it?"

Art closed the distance, reaching for your hand. You were pliant to his gentle touches, overwhelmed with conflicting emotions that lapped at your conscience. A piece of paper was placed in your palm.

"Text me. I'll figure out something for us."

You said nothing to his promise and walked away; your skin felt hot from his touch. You headed straight for the conference room, and your hand slipped the note Art gave you into the pocket of your blazer.

Art's number had not been a resident in your contact for a very long time. You stared at the ten digits later that night in your room, and your fingers itched to do something about it. Burn it or throw it away; it didn't matter. You knew you should do either of those things, but in the end, you couldn't.

At about 12:40 AM, Art sent you the address to a local restaurant that was about a ten-minute drive from the hotel.

Tomorrow night. 7:30.

As the day drew closer to night, the knot in your stomach tightened even more in anticipation. You sat in the car in the restaurant's parking lot for a while despite being there early. When it was 7:38, knowing you couldn't delay it any longer, you straightened your simple outfit and walked into the restaurant. You were greeted by a bored hostess on a slow night; the place was almost empty, save for two other occupied spots. Art's table was in a more secluded area, where privacy was afforded by the enclosed booth with fake vines cascading down to the back of the leather seats in intricate weaves and big leaves. Art stood up when he saw you. The familiarity of the scene stirred a long-forgotten memory that happened seven years ago.

2012. Columbus, Ohio.

Your first book tour. After the reading and signing event, you were free to do whatever you wished, and that meant roaming the aisle of a grocery store, browsing for juice, painkillers and some chocolate. Your eyes pored over the nutritional value, or lack thereof, of a pack of chips when you felt a pair of eyes on you. That, on top of the fact that they wandered into your peripheral and hadn't made the slightest move. You did a double-take when you saw Patrick Zweig standing within arm's reach with a self-assuring smirk on his face.

"Hey. It's you."

"It's… you."

You echoed his recognition, but on the contrary to his amusement, yours was the faintest touch of dread.

"It's been a while."

"It has been. How are you?"

You turned to face him fully. He scratched the back of his head with his free hand.

"I'm … great! You?"

"I'm good. What are you doing here?"

Patrick looked around the aisle as if the answer was obvious.

"In this grocery store? I'm getting groceries."

You looked at the basket in his other hand. It was filled with chips, soda and some bananas.

"Right. No, I mean, in the city."

"I'm here for a challenger. Well, was."

"What happened?"

"I got eliminated."

He dipped his head and averted his eyes from yours, seeming embarrassed by the admission of the fact.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"That's alright. At least I'm $300 richer now."

Patrick gestured to you.

"What about you? What are you doing here?"

"I'm on a book tour."

"Ahh. Sounds like you're doing very well for yourself."

"Thank you."

You felt sheepish at his compliment. The two of you fell into a lull of silence, your eyes intertwined in a languid game of cat and mouse. Patrick looked like he wanted to tell you something, but you had nothing to say to him. So you broke the silence first.

"Well, uh, it's very nice to see you again. I should go."

He stepped forward, trying to capture your attention in the way his body language created an invisible enclosure that temporarily held you in.

"Wait. Can we go somewhere else to talk? I think we have a lot to talk about."

"Do we?"

You levelled him with an incredulous look. But he met you with earnestness.

"Yes, we do."

"I don't think so."

"They got married last month."

It took you a brief moment to understand. Still, his decision to break the news to you in an abrupt manner took you by surprise. Your heart seemed to drop into a bottomless pit, and you could feel the frantic beat of it thrumming along every inch of your skin. You quickly fixed your frown into a forced smile.

"Well, that's great to hear. I'm happy for them."

Patrick gave you a look that said your effort was all in vain.

"You don't mean that."

"We all have to move on at some point. Unlike you."

The venomous bite of your words didn't go unnoticed by the dark-haired man before you.

"If you knew what I know, then you would be just like me."

You scoffed, crossing your arms.

"Please, we're not the same. Stop being cryptic and just say what you want to say."

He tilted his head at you, an idea dancing in his blue eyes.

"How about this? I'll tell you over dinner. We can use some catching up."

Your lack of a response made him feel like he needed to apply a little pressure.

"You'll want to know what happened. Trust me."

You rolled your eyes. You couldn't believe you were seriously considering his offer. You exhaled deeply and decided then that spending some time with your ex's wife's ex-boyfriend was better than a night alone in the hotel room.

"Where and what time?"

His smirk deepened, and you wanted to wipe that off of his face.

"There's an Applebee's nearby. How about we meet up there … around 7?"

"Fine."

That was how you ended up here, sitting across from Patrick Zweig, sipping on a Rum and Coke while waiting for your food. Whatever he wanted to say to you might pair better with the taste of alcohol. You hadn't even bothered to change out of the sundress you wore just hours before when you ran into him.

"How's it going for you career-wise?"

Patrick took a sip of his drink to delay answering your question.

"Oh, you know, it's … good. I'm making a name for myself."

You recalled his grocery haul, the pair of shorts that resembled pyjama pants, and the state of his car when you arrived around the same time as he did. The interior was messy, with rolled-up socks and clothes draping all over the back seat, trash and parking tickets in the front. Doubt swelled in your head.

"Are you? I have a feeling that you wouldn't be sleeping in your car if that was the case."

A playful smile appeared on his lips.

"Ouch. The hostel I was staying in had bed bugs, so my car was the next best option. I'll go to a motel after this, though."

You hummed, thinking back about what Art had told you about Patrick.

"Isn't your family rich?"

"They are. Not me."

His long middle finger traced the rim of his drink in a pensive mood.

"Why don't you ask them for help?"

"I don't want to. Let's just say we always fail to come to an agreement when it comes to the choices that I've made."

Your acknowledgement came in the form of slow nods of your head. You understood him for not wanting to depend on your family for anything. It would only give them one more reason to call you a disappointment for daring to seek their help.

The waiter brought out your food, and your conversation was pulled into a lull of quietude as you ate your food. You dabbed the corner of your mouth for a drop of the creamy pasta sauce, while Patrick munched on three pieces of fries. You picked up what was left off moments ago.

"You're still privileged in a way, you know? You could give up and crawl back to your family's mansion. I'm sure they'll welcome you back with open arms."

"I could. But there's no fun in that. Besides, I prefer being a disappointment anyway."

You shared a small chuckle. Under the low light of the restaurant, you allowed yourself to take him in fully. Curly dark hair, contrasted with the soft edges of his face. The light stubble along his jaw added a rugged charm to his laid-back attitude. You couldn't help but compare him to Art. Patrick's confidence was loud, veering on cocky. Art's was quiet, but full of surprises when the moment called for it.

The heady allure of Patrick and his association with Art had started to draw up dangerous ideas in your mind. You inhaled sharply, your fingers rubbed your temple in small circles in an attempt to bring yourself back to the conversation. The one you needed to have the moment you settled in the booth of Applebee's.

"So … they got married."

"Yeah. Pretty recently. Didn't even get an invite."

A sardonic huff of air escaped your lips.

"Join the club. I found out about their engagement last year, but I didn't think …"

You trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought. But the silence did it for you. Patrick nodded.

"Art moves fast. He knows what he wants and he goes for it. And no one can tell him otherwise."

"I know it all too well."

"Little fucker."

You took a sip of your second Rum and Coke. A deep sigh escaped your lungs.

"I get it, though. She's beautiful, she's passionate about tennis. She can help him in ways that I can't."

At that, Patrick stayed quiet. His eyes took you in, all of your honesty and insecurity displayed in a glass case in front of him. You felt the briefest brush of vulnerability on your spine and shivered, but you ignored it. Despite the lack of dialogue and contact during the short period Patrick visited Stanford, your shared history ran deeper than the surface-level interaction that you had.

Patrick set down his burger and wiped his mouth with the napkin. His fingers created a rhythm on the wooden table, but then, the dull melody was cut short.

"Art is devoted to Tashi, but she's not."

"What do you mean?"

You prompted him to continue.

"Tennis is not everything to Art. But to Tashi, it is."

"I figured as much. It's not new news."

An inkling that Patrick was deliberately withholding information from you came to your mind. You sat up straighter, setting your fork down.

"Spill, Patrick."

He relented after a moment.

"I was in Atlanta last year. A couple of months after they got engaged."

You looked at him, unsure where he was going.

"Both of them were there for the Atlanta Open. I … saw Tashi in the hotel they were staying that night, and we … slept together."

You searched for a hint of deception in his face, only to come up with none. His face remained unreadable, betraying nothing, leaving only sincerity despite the irony of the situation. Your mouth opened, and closed, as you were at a loss for words. Patrick shrugged as if what he had just confessed was no more than a harmless, made-up tale.

"She wants an obedient little dog to carry out her fantasy of being a great tennis player. And Art is more than eager to do that for her."

He continued, seeming oblivious to your lack of response.

"She didn't seem happy, being engaged to Art. And if I can be honest, I think Tashi only likes Art because he's loyal to her to a fault, and he'll do anything to please her. I don't think she even loves him."

That somehow took you out of your bewildered state.

"Are you even listening to yourself? He was your best friend."

"My best friend? Who sabotaged my relationship, stole my girlfriend and basically abandoned me for her?"

Your rebuttal shot forward like a bullet out of its chamber.

"So you slept with her? To revenge? Even though she was engaged to Art? You're no better than him, Patrick. Two wrongs don't make one right."

You shook your head and couldn't help the thought that rolled off of your lips.

"You tennis players are such fucking assholes."

Patrick only nodded in agreement and didn't say anything. You sighed, asking the question you'd wanted to know.

"Does Art know?"

"I don't think so."

You shook your head, feeling a wave of fatigue taking over.

"I've had enough of you people. Just leave me alone."

He held his hands up in defence.

"All I'm saying is, you still have a chance if you want it."

You gave a rueful smile.

"Am I an idiot for wanting to believe you?"

He took his time, roaming over you with a pensive gaze. You felt exposed under it, after the confession you had never dared to verbalize out loud. Perhaps it was both of your positions in this game of tennis, the back and forth that inexplicably wove the four of you together in these intricate patterns, so tightly entangled with one another, that made you feel like Patrick would recognize. There was only understanding, and no judgement. The irony was that. Tennis was a simple game when you stripped it down to its barest principles, but the interconnection between everyone was anything but simple.

"No, you're not. You must really love him."

You looked down at your empty glass, unable to meet his eyes.

"I hate that I still feel this way about him."

Even though both of you were hurt by Art, you couldn't help the question that came afterward.

"Do you miss him?"

Patrick was his best friend, and Art was his. They had a life-long history between them that you weren't privy to. Your pain and his were different in kind, but you could understand all the same.

"I do."

The rest of the meal was cast in a sombre hue, with both of you mulling over a mutual understanding and the similarities you shared. Neither of you was the winner, but that didn't matter now.

"You didn't have to pay for my meal as well."

He said as you walked together to his car. You came here by taxi, and Patrick had offered to give you a ride back to your hotel. You waved a dismissive hand.

"Don't mention it. Giving me a ride back is enough."

His car was only within a few strides away when Patrick stepped in front of you.

"I can do more than that, you know? To pay you back."

"How?"

"I, we, can make Art jealous."

You halted and repeated your previous question. He arched an eyebrow, his expression said nothing but trouble, and when understanding dawned on you, you levelled him with a glare.

"No. Sleeping with you is the last thing I need right now."

"Who said anything about sleeping?"

You scoffed at the obvious bait, sidestepping him to reach the passenger side of his car.

"We can make out, take a photo, and I'll send it to Art. Make him realize what he's missing."

"If you want to kiss me, just say that. No need to make up excuses."

You rolled your eyes at him and realized just how much closer Patrick was to you than moments ago. He dipped his head to look at you, his gaze traced the shape of your lips and drifted to your eyes. When he spoke, his voice softened, low and careful, and your curiosity responded, pushing back the guard your inhibition had put up.

"I really do."

He leaned in, and you rose on your tiptoes to meet his lips. The touch was gentle and slow at first as you tested the pieces you needed to fit together. Then Patrick took over, and you followed his lead. His presence was all-encompassing, sweeping over your senses. Your lips lapsed and locked together in a feverish rhythm, a playful and exhilarating chase of lust. His tongue prodded at your entrance, and you opened yourself up to him. Your tongues intertwined, determined to draw whatever you needed from the other.

You didn't know when Patrick had pushed you up against his car, but you were grateful as your strength had become dependent on him. The cold metal of his car and the solid yet soft feel of his body created delicious friction on your skin. You grasped at each other's body, groping and pulling, your lips barely parted for a much-needed gulp of air. He grunted when you bit his lower lip, and that earned you a harsh, handful squeeze of your ass under your sundress. Your body called to his, and yet, a small part of your mind beckoned you to resurface, to come to the admission of the truth that you had been running away from.

Your ardour exchange slowed as you parted to breathe. Still, you met each other in the middle for brief touches, and you eventually pulled away. Patrick's thumb rubbed at the curve of your bottom lip as if he were admiring his work of art, which was swollen and glistening with his mark. His whisper was warm on your lips.

"Did you think about him?"

You nodded and swallowed.

"Did you think about her?"

It took him a moment, but he nodded. A woeful smile graced your swollen lips.

"I don't think this is a good idea."

"Revenge is always a good idea."

You touched his jaw, forcing him to meet your eyes.

"You don't win by sleeping with me. I don't want to be a perpetual pawn in the game that all three of you play. Besides, I don't think Art cares anymore."

Patrick shook his head.

"About what happened all those years ago? Maybe not. But I think he still cares about you."

"It doesn't make a difference though, does it?"

"I guess not."

You playfully and gently pushed him back, making Patrick set you down on your own shaky legs. Your front brushed against his arousal, and you bit your bottom lip in amusement.

"Come on, you still have to drive me back."

Before getting out of his car in front of your hotel, you reached for his hand.

"It was nice to see you again, Patrick. I really mean it."

His hand came up to meet yours, giving it a soft squeeze.

"You, too. I'm glad that we got to catch up."

You left his car without saying another word. Your heart was heavy, but at ease. Moving on and forward was your only option, but it felt much easier now. Still, you wished you would never have to see any of them ever again.

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mjso-soupp · 4 months ago

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Subaru Headcanons

shitty headcanons for my fav vampire bcs i haven’t updated my fic 😍

Around you: Now I don't think he would necessarily be shy, but more afraid to embarrass himself around you. He’d check himself more than usual, making sure his face wasn’t bright red whenever you held onto him tightly around his brothers, or make sure he didn’t stutter when your eyes looked more doe than usual.

Belly: He probably eats a lot, like a real teenage boy. He doesn’t have a favorite food so he just eats whatever he finds in the kitchen, and that includes lots of snacking since he doesn’t feel the need to make a meal that would actually fill him. He’d rather just wait til some food pops up to eat it.

Clothes: His wardrobe consists mainly of black, white or some other dark color. I like to think he wears one of those compression shirts to bed or under his jackets. He definitely keeps old clothes too because he thinks it ‘matches his vibe’. Due to his strength, if he was late for school one day, he probably tore a hole in his shirt from pulling it violently over his head in a hurry.

Dating: I dont think it’s him that has much trouble snagging a girl— definitely not. It’s what he does AFTER snagging a girl that confuses him, because, what now? He’s awkward because of his self destructive self image so all he can really think about is, “Will she really stay with me?” Or “When will this be over?” But I don’t think he’s much of a dater, more like hoping to just pop up on the ‘one’ some day (Which seems inevitable because he never leaves his coffin).

Excess: It’s a good thing he’s an albino because this man probably grows so much hair, like peach fuzz all along his body. His character design obviously shows he’s an albino but his eyebrows probably have a thin shape made up of long hairs he doesn’t care to pluck because they don’t really show. He also has a long full head of hair that in the art shows red undertones.

Eye contact (Bonus): Since he’s an albino, his eyes twitch and that leaves more reason for him not being able to hold eye contact. He subconsciously looks away and focuses on inanimate objects rather than the person directly in front him.

Fangs: This man was blessed with a strong pair of fangs. They show the most out of the other brothers when he speaks or eats. He wouldn’t so much as take pride in this but focuses on why having such sharp canines is much more of a nuisance to him, like accidentally biting his cheek while chewing.

Grooming: He doesn’t smell bad, everyone has their own scent and his is strong with musk and soap. Probably uses a bar of soap for his body and face, then follows up with whatever shampoo appeared in his shower that day. Whenever he brushes his hair with no care whatsoever, he just brushes til he can’t feel a tug on his hair from the brissels. Doesn’t matter if he brushed it out of place, it’ll fall back later.

Health: I guess in the long run this doesn’t matter since he’s a vampire, but he probably has some unhealthy habits. He definitely smokes or has smoked cigarettes. His relationship with drugs is inconclusive. But I like to think that his relationship with Kou has something to do with Kou’s potential past addiction(?) They probably bonded over that.

Intelligence: Being alive for years means something has stuck to him. He’s more street smart than book smart though, he doesn’t really pay attention in school (RIP Subaru you would’ve loved chat gpt). He forgets how to find the circumference of a circle but knows how to kill someone in one swift motion(?)

Jaded: Subaru’s probably tired of the whole madonna or mistress dynamic. Why can’t he have both? He wouldn’t necessarily want someone to dominate him but more so have someone who can keep up with him, less work for him you know? He already has a bad relationship with the idea of a woman on his side. Why does he have to choose between a woman to accompany him in his dreams (Madonna) or a woman who helps him fulfill his desires(Mistress)?

Kinks: Definitely into some sort of knife play, choking or really anything that exerts his dominance over you.

Laugh: He doesn’t really laugh but when he does it’s mostly a scoff or a chuckle. Maybe if something really is funny to him he might laugh for more than a second but that’s really it. His laugh isn’t loud but it’s more like really low and deep so it comes out louder than he wants it too so he’ll get embarrassed.

Mature: Subaru’s definitely one of the more mature brothers. Dealing with his mother’s mental illness and instability at a young age really rocked him, he grew up way too fast. This is genuinely the reason as to why he doesn’t like children or doesn’t like to associate himself with them. He truly believes he’ll ‘ruin’ them and ruin their childhood like he had his ruined.

Nature: He loves it. He doesn’t admit it though because he tries to be hard. (These are misogynistic vampires after all..) In anger he likes to rip and tear petals off flowers but feels bad after, just another thing to add onto his list of things he’s corrupted. He takes care of the rose garden in his free time.

Open-minded: Considering his personality (Edgy, angsty, rule breaker) I think he’s in the middle. He’s definitely more open then Reiji, Carla and other more superior brothers, but he’s not as open as Laito. Maybe to societal norms he’s more open but to sexual topics he’s closed and private about.

Personality: He’s rude, like, really rude. How he acts with you depends on your relationship though: If you’re more well acquainted (in terms of Subaru acquainted) he’s probably rude and likes to insult you through jokes, but if you’re more romantically involved it’s less subtle (He’s still throwing insults, just at a less) He’s probably really funny without meaning to be. More so if he says something and his brothers turn it into a whole different embarrassing topic making him turn red and everyone laughing at him. He’s of course, the definition of ultraviolence, and probably wants to get into being a gym rat but isn’t that motivated.

Quirks: Has so many. He likes to cover his left eye with his hair, but brushes it out of his face over and over again. His pale hands that are bruised and beaten make him stand out also, he likes to pick at his nails too. When he’s in a bad mood, his legs bounce annoyingly, making his boots click repeatedly. When a shirt is a little too tight, he stretches it out but rips it in the process (He’ll still wear it.)

Romantic: Well he’s not materialistic.. he doesn’t lay rose petals everywhere, open a bottle of champagne while sharing a five-star hotel with you. He’s more likely to stay in and just spend time with you one to one. He definitely tries to be more affectionate at times but it just seems awkward to him.

Smells: Probably doesn’t enjoy super sugary smells like vanilla or caramel. He likes to smell lightweight floral or mature scents on a woman, sweet smells don’t taste good on your skin. For a man, he likes to smell very strong cologne, it’s just satisfying to him for some reason.

Touch: Is a hugger. He loves hugging you from the back and wrapping his arms around your shoulders. Also is a kisser(?) He’s always kissing you DEEPLY. It’s a shocker lol, but he definitely enjoys some sort of connection with you.

Unique: His appearance, overall that’s pretty much what everyone notices at first. Considering his mom was a ‘white rose’, his way of standing out from the other brothers is his soft color palette clashing with dark fabrics that are ripped. I really do believe his eyes are the next thing that are unique because of how much they tremble.

Vocal: Maybe, in the chance you get him to open up to you, he would talk for hours. He would talk about what he thinks about his life, his brothers and why he feels the way about himself. He would speak about his mother in a soft delicate manner but go bitter right after and go quiet.

Water: He didn’t have exactly the best time in the pacific ocean after destroying that statue, so it’s a no. He’s obviously very clean but prefers quick showers and doesn’t like waiting for the bath to fill up with water.

Xanax: He def needs a xanny.

Yucks: He doesn’t like seafood, (although he would eat ayato’s takoyakis in the blink of an eye) Doesn’t like school, at all. Doesn’t like hyper pop music, or just like pop in general. Likes shoes that are easy to slip on, his boots are molded to his feet. So church shoes that require you to wear nice socks and tie them are a no for him.

Zzz: He loves to sleep, he genuinely enjoys sleeping in his tight coffin every night. He goes to sleep late on school days so he can easily sleep through lectures and such, but loves going to sleep early on weekends so he can rest for a couple more hours.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #vampires #subaru sakamaki #fanfiction #headcanon #sakamaki subaru #fandom

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misguidedasgardian · 1 year ago

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I need to... (2)

... Go

MASTERLIST

Summary: Your time and your patience is running out

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader (for now), MAIN Cregan Stark x Fem!reader

Warnings: There are mentions of them being Minors! at some point in their relationship, a lot of cursing, cheating, angst, depression, age gap (not for reader), coercion, toxic relationship, drinking alcohol to cope, in some countries it is underage drinking, (reader is 18). contraceptive pills, panick attack, throwing up (not intentional), thoughts about injuries and medical procedures to one-self (not self induced), weird-ass warnings but you knew when you read them, might forget some …

+ 18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 5.1 k

Notes: I can’t believe the support on this! it's amazing! and I can’t wait for all of you to realize the ramifications of Aemond’s fuckery JAJA

It has been only been a week and you couldn’t take it anymore, so you found yourself almost running up the stairs leading to that ugly studio, that once you found “Artsy”, you had to do something, you had to face her, you had to

You found Alys alone cleaning her art supplies, when she saw you, she smiled widely

“Hey, you are free this time of day?, what do you need?”

“What I need is for you to stop fucking my boyfriend”, you snapped, her face went pale, “you know you were in the last year of highschool when he was being born? sick”, then her face turned bitchy, and unapologetic

“Perhaps you should ask yourself why your boyfriend prefers to fuck me than you”, you couldn’t take it anymore, you looked around frantically, and found quickly what you were looking for, a cartoner knife

Alys’ face was like the one of the woman of psycho, the scene in the shower, you couldn’t take it anymore and stabbed her right by her collarbone

You screamed when you woke up, you raised your hands to your face to see if you had your teacher’s blood in them, but they were clean, you looked around and found yourself in your dorm room… alone

You had not stabbed your teacher….

Yet

You jumped from your bed when you heard your alarm go off.

You had classes

Plastic arts classes

For fucks sake

You looked at the mirror in the common bathroom and you looked like shit, dark bags under your eyes, your hair was messy, you didn’t even want to try, you just went to her class, not even having a shower

why bother?

You had kept yourself waxed, clean, hair always perfect, always makeup in your face, perfume in your neck, you had plucked your eyebrows every week, and for what?

Alys looked radiant today, her gorgeous black hair loose, makeup that made her green eyes even bigger and shinier

Fucking bitch

When you arrived class already started, she made eye contact with you, raising one of her perfect model-shaped eyebrows but say nothing as she kept giving instructions for the class of today

You sat at the last table, back of the class and took out your notebook, and started doodling.

You started to plan

Your godmother was going to be so happy you would want to change careers, because she knew what you truly wanted, and she didn't think it was a good idea to choose your college only for a man, which you had done, so… she was going to be easy..

Even though she was so proud when you told her you got in Dragonstone University, it was a prestigious school, and she wasted no time in telling everyone she knew in King’s Landing country club.

Anyways

Then you were going to buy a ticket to go live on the whole other side of the continent. You thought the money your parents gave you would let you live comfortably for the years you needed to study without even thinking about working…

You were going to be fine

You could kiss that family discount with the airline goodbye

Then you were going to need to take a few boxes with you, your belongings, luckily you didn’t have much, so you started to make a list of everything you needed to do.

And suddenly, you felt all eyes on you, you looked up and realized that witch Alys had made you a question or something, and everyone was looking at you to answer it

“Sorry?”, you asked

“i asked, at what temperature you need to heat plastic in order for you to mold”, she asked again, she tried to sound nice, but you could tell she was visibly annoyed

“I don’t know”, you answered, she looked at you, frowning, but then answered herself and continued the class, after everyone had stopped snickering

You had made so many mistakes, you had managed to enter one of the most prestigious schools in the country, taking someone else’s place, and you didn’t even want to be here. It was early, you thought, at least, it was not too late…

You would be ashamed, if you didn’t try so damn hard to fit in, for you to really be interested in your classes, for you to want to be an architect

Sadly you didn’t

As soon as Alys dismissed the class you jumped off your seat and ran off, even though you heard her calling you… Gods the audacity

If you were a tracher fucking your student’s boyfriend, the least you could do is leave her alone, right?

“Professor Alys is calling you”, said one of your classmates with a boring face, he grabbed your arm to stop you from running down the stairs, and you had no choice but to return and face her

she was wiping the board with her back to you, your eyes went to the desk where you found now only a cardboard knife, but also very big scissors. You felt like a lightning bolt had shot through your spine, you shook and grabbed yourself, reviving your dream all too well.

She finally turned around and looked at you

Boyrfiend fucker

You knew very well your boyfriend, Aemond, was the one at fault, he was the one in a committed relationship with you, but she was also at fault, she knew he was your boyfriend… SHE WAS YOUR TEACHER, she knew him through you! you wouldn’t go as far as to say she was your friend, but really close, she was your mentor, she was also at fault

“I know you are frustrated, and you don’t really want to be here, but I thought at least, together you and I, had come to some sort of understanding”, she said sweetly. Any understanding that you both may have had came to an end when you found her fucking your boyfriend in this very desk

The thought made you take back your hand that you had placed in top of that surface, you looked at it, disgusted, like it was some sort of roadkill, and for a second, as you looked back at her, you thought you saw some fear in her ghostly green eyes, but you quickly discarded it

“I’m failing two courses, it’s been a tough week”, you whispered, taking your eyes off of her

“You got pretty good grades in this class”, she tried, “Don’t ruin it so close to the finish line”

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again”

Should you confront her? you didn’t want to lose momentum, but you didn’t think you had the strength, you had never been a confrontational person, and… what were you going to gain? explanations? a fight? an apology? what?

You found her looking at you with pity, and you almost snorted

“Yours is a complicated age, you are expected to make life-changing decisions without not truly knowing much of the world, it is almost unfair they made you choose what you want to do for the rest of your life at this young age… but that is what college is for, you know?”, she muttered, “it might take you a while, like I did, but in the end, you will find your calling”

You barely nodded, your energy suddenly depleted, you wanted to fall into your bed with five muscular relaxers on and not wake up for a week

If you offer, would the meds students put you in a coma for learning purposes? works both ways

Alys continued her motivational speech while you thought how good it must feel not to feel anything, you wanted to rip your heart from your own chest for it to stop aching like it was.

You watched Alys and how her lips moved and her eyes danced

And then, even though you couldn’t hear her, you saw her put her hand in her belly

“... And when you least expected, life surprises you”, she muttered, and then from her belly you looked up at her again

“You are pregnant?”

“I shouldn’t be sharing this with you, I only just found out, it's very new, I think six weeks”

You were going to pass out

“Is it my boyfriend’s?”, you asked before you can even stop your own tongue

“What?”, she asked, “how…?”

“I need to go”

You stumbled away from her, grabbing onto the wall you tried not to fall down the stairs and break your neck, fortunately the bathrooms were right there, you barely managed to enter and kneeled in the nearest stall, and you threw up, all the poor contents of your breakfast

You were shaking, with nausea and your chest constricting within itself

Once you were done throwing up, you lean back to the stall wall, and you started to hyperventilate, suddenly, you had trouble breathing, and you couldn’t, you tried to take long breaths, but nothing was helping

Soon, a couple of hands were on you

“Hey, are you alright?”, it was a girl, young

“Can’t breathe”, you managed to squeeze our of your twisted throat

“I think you are having a panic attack”, she said, completely concerned for you

“I think I might be”, you conceded, your chest felt too tight

Alys was pregnant with Aemond’s baby. I mean, was she? for how long this had been going on? she had a boyfriend when the school year started, you had seen him, he trained the Football team here.

You dry heaved and that made it worse

The student grabbed you and took you out of the stall, you managed to stand up and grab onto the vanity. She massaged your back with soothing movements

“Breathe in and out”, she commanded, and you obeyed, looking in the mirror and into your own eyes, to find your own strength

She placed her hands in your shoulders and began to rub, as you kept breathing

“Your chest hurts?”, suddenly, it stopped, and you shook your head

“No, not anymore”, you managed to answer, as you turn on the cold water and splashed your face with it, and put a bit of cold water in the back of your head, it always worked, to calm yourself down

“You need to go to the nursery”, she said, worried

“I think I’m alright”, you whispered

“Are you sure?”, she asked, you nodded

“Thank you so much”, you whispered

“My sister used to have them all the time, its fine”, she then looked at you and frowned, ”you are Aemond’s girlfriend, are you not?”

For fucks sake

“Yes”, you said, smiling fakely

“He is so awesome, I have him in all my classes”

You can have him then

“Anyways, thank you again”, you grabbed your backpack that was in the middle of the bathroom floor, and walked out of the bathroom hastily

Just a couple of more weeks

Just a couple

But you couldn’t

With shaky hands you grabbed your phone, ignoring Aemond’s texts about meeting up in the coffee shop, and went straight for the number you had in your phone, it rang twice before she answered

“Godmother?”

“My sweet girl”, she answered, only that made you smile, and even with one word, she knew something was wrong, “what happened?”

“I need you”

“I’m on the next ferry out”, it's the only thing she answered

It was still going to take a couple of days, but only knowing she was coming, made you breathe a little easier

You just had to put up with Aemond a couple of more days…

Just a couple

Your phoned “dinged”, and when you checked it, you were pleasantly surprised to see that it was a text from Ben

You are my only success story in my career as a recruiter, wanna celebrate?

A bit of a flirt, but you smiled and texted back immediately, not time to waste you thought

Sure

The replay came as quickly as you texted back

Meet you at the bar at eight, we will eat something there

You: Great :)

Now, a text from Aemond came in, he wanted you to meet him in the library now, and you went there

For maximum effect, for you to really make an impact with your absence, you had to keep acting a few more days, and then, you were going to get out of his life for good… But Alys, you had asked her point blank is that kid was his, she was going to tell him you knew…

You found him in the tables near the end of the century old library, you frowned when you saw him with Criston Cole, a senior who was just a walking neon red flag

“My lady”, you evaded him like the plague when he leaned in to kiss you, and he didn’t say anything, but you saw his jaw tick, you sat by his side, and took out your art history book,a t least you were going to leave this joint with your head held high, you had an exam two days from now

“I heard you took classes with professor Rivers”, muttered Cole, a twisted smile on his lips and his default crazy eyes

“yes”, you responded, bored

“darling, are the flashcards ready?”, asked Aemond, and you looked at him like he had grown two heads

“I didn’t got time to make them you now, failing all those classes”, you muttered, and again, that look that told you were going to have a huge fight once you were alone

“No matter, you can help me prepare them later tonight”, he teased, winking at Crispin, I mean, Criston

“I can’t tonight”, that touched a button, he turned to you, angry dancing in his eye

“Why not?”, he asked

“I need to study”, you said, pointing at the book

“You are going to fail anyways”, he said, Cole got uncomfortable quickly, and stood up from the table

“I’ll leave you to it”

“Gee, thanks love”, you mocked, ignoring him

“That is not what I meant”, he muttered, “we always study together”

“I’m sorry”

“We haven’t had sex in a week”, he whispered, annoyed, which reminded you bitterly that you had tried to get checked for STD’s but the girl told you you needed three months (for one of them) to notice symptoms and they were not going to show up in the results

“Sorry, I’m on my period”

“You are not, I told you to take the pills…”

“Did you know they can cause me an aneurism Aemond?”, you asked, he only sighed

“You are fine”

“I don’t want to take them anymore”, for what? you only told your Gynecologist to prescribe them because of your active sex life, not because you needed them

“We’ll talk about it later”, he whispered

“I can’t later, I have to study, and then I’m meeting with a friend”

‘What friend?”

“Ben”

“The one from the other night? forget it”, he growled

You’d think he’d be glad, he could go and fuck your teacher, his baby momma, oh you wanted to throw up again

“He is just a friend, I’m pretty sure he is gay”, not true

“So? you are not going to that slum to drink with a guy you just met”

“There is going to be other people there”, you said, like, other patrons

“I said no”

“You are not my father, I’m not asking Aemond”, you said back, he only looked at you with a frown

“Why are you doing this tonight? I had a surprise for you”

“What surprise?”, you asked

“Involves a velvet box, and flowers…”, the gift he didn’t get to give you that fatidic night, “your favorite movie”

“Sorry, Ben is leaving tomorrow, besides, you just told me you need to study”, you reminded him, caught him, you thought

“Whatever, you want to seem desperate to that guy? go then”, he looked down at his book, his closed fist over the table

“Tomorrow we can meet up at the coffee shop and make the flashcards”, he dind’t answer, he barely looked at you, and you want to laugh on his fucking face

The silent treatment

Really?

normally you would beg and get on your knees, figurative and literally, to please him and make him forgive you for whatever you did wrong, but now you just got up, grabbing your book

He looked like he had been slapped looking up at you wide eyed, but you didn’t look back, you just turned and left, leaving him there, soaking in his own manipulation

You wanted an opening

For him to say something and you bite back

You didn’t have the momentum anymore

You just wanted to leave, you knew that if you confronted him, he was just going to manipulate his way out of it, he had you stringed up…

But you just find a sharp pair of scissors

It was going to take a while, but you were going to get yourself free, you knew it

Just a couple more days, your godmother was on her way, she was going to get you out of here

you walked hastily to your dorm, to find Maris there, that girl didn’t have much of a social life

“I don’t appreciate you treating me like a doorman”, she snapped in sight, “that came in for you”, she said pointing to your bed were a big envelope laid

“Maris, you know what? maybe Byron doesn’t pay attention to you because he can see the stick poking out of your ass”, you snapped, and she opened her mouth, enraged, “save it”, you snapped, “I don’t feel like killing a million neurons trying to wrap my head around what might get out of your mouth”, she shut up again, but you sighed, she might be a terrible roommate, but she wasn’t to blame, “relax Maris you know what that is?”, you asked pointing at the bed, “your ticket to a single room, its my Winterfell course catalog for the next semester”, and her face it up, “I’m out of here”

“Really? wait, Bbt what about Aemond?”, she asked then, wary, you grabbed your phone and didn’t even looked at the picture, and you show it to her

“IS THAT…? PROFESSOR RIVERS?”, she said, sickenly marveled

“You still think he is too good for me?”, she took the phone off your hand to look at the picture closely

Oh if only you saw her airdropping the pic to herself

“You need to send this to the dean and fuck them up”, she said with a wide, sick smile.

Oh how much you had thought about

The very next day you were looking through your phone and find it, you didn’t even remember taking it, you were probably in shock, and then you thought about show it to the dean… but you couldn’t

That picture was straight up porn, and Aemond was on it, Aemond came from a powerful family and not even the whole university could protect itself from the massive lawsuit the Targaryens could attack them with, and you, you took it, it was defamatory and gods know what else, you were a nail and they were a massive hammer, you didn’t even wanted to know what they could do to you.

“She could get fired”, you whispered simply

“So?”

“She could get in trouble”

“She is fucking your boyfriend!”, she said back

“Doesn’t mean I want to ruin her life”, you said, “he is the one who should get fucked up, he was my boyfriend, and if this picture gets leaked, the only one who is getting fired and ruined is her, while he is going to get high-fived until his arm falls off”

“She deserves it”, she said

“He also deserves it, and again, he won’t even get scratched”

“Yes if you send it to his pius mother”, she teased

“The stick up your ass is falling off Maris”

“Haha, very funny, send it”, she warned

“I just want to get out of here”

“Do it, but leave nothing in your wake, scorch the earth”, you only shook your head

They deserved each other, they deserved for them to fall on their own weight, you had made your peace.

And besides, Aemond had other things to face, his mother for example, King’s Landing’s first lady

Aemond had a very elite political pedigree, you see, his family was like royalty, generations and generations of the country’s leaders, mayors, senators, presidents… even it was said they descended from Kings many centuries ago. And that was just his father, and on his mother’s side was from the same caliber.

And you were from a famous family in the Crownlands, your family only in the last three generations before you had become famous for pioneering in the big silver screen, actors, directors, producers, new money, you’d think, creatives, artists… But the main reason that Alicent had allowed you to squeeze into her family, was your godmother.

She was Cerenna Reyne, married to the late Tywin Lannister, one of the three heirs to the greatest gold mine of the continent, childless, you were the closest thing she had to a daughter, probably her heir, people were welcomed to speculate. You wondered, but you wouldn’t ask, she hasn't told you.

Aemond had the pedigree, and you had the money to take him were he allegedly belonged

Cerenna and your mother were friends since the cradle, and she took you in when she and your father passed when you were little.

You ignored Maris who was getting a pedicure from herself, and dropped to your bed and opened the heavy package

It was your acceptance letter, with a letter from the dean himself, saying he was gladly going to receive you, and then the course catalog

You opened it and look through it slowly, enjoying every picture, every letter, the gray and navy blue colors

All of it

You even wanted to get a Jersey

You were so excited… and you couldn’t wait for you to face Aemond the last day, tell him to fuck himself, that the vacation to Casterly Rock were cancelled, and he could fuck himself

You were going to enjoy it

But when do things happen the way you wanted them to?

You met with Ben at the bar, you ate french fries, and drank beer. You had a great time, you learned he had a girlfriend, and he was a sophomore in an administrative degree, he was such a friendly guy, very appropriate, you felt good with him. It was a nice night, talking about Winterfell and how excited you were, and how cute the wolf mascot was and the fact you wanted to buy a plushie

Until a drunk fool spilled his pint all over you, drenching you

Ben Tallheart, was a gentleman, and offered you his Winterfell Jersey

And you had to make the walk of shame wearing another man’s jersey all over campus

Of course Aemond found out

And he almost threw your door down looking for you. You went out of your room to meet him, your patience running very, very thin

“...Now all the school thinks my girlfriend is a whore”, and that broke you, you pushed him out of your room where an entertained Maris was, and you put a finger on his chest

“You are the whore and don’t you ever talk to me that way again in your fucking life!”

it was done

You were done

You had imploded

“What?”, he sneered

“You are fucking my plastic arts teacher and she is fucking pregnant Aemond!”, he went pale, you honestly thought he was just going to drop dead

“Are you truly insane?”, he asked then, recuperating himself, he had politician’s blood after all, “why is a classmate texting me you had a panic attack in the bathroom? you are clearly not well”, he said, gaslighting at its finest

“I’m very well, thank you so much!”, you fought back, “I saw you Aemond, with my own eyes, you fucking her over her desk last week!”

“If you saw us, then why didn’t you say something? uh?”, he mocked

“because I’m leaving, and I was just going to disappear from your fucking life, because you don’t deserve anything from me Aemond! NOTHING!”, you spitted out

“You are psychotic”, he said back

“Oh, I’m the psycho one”, you mocked

“You have problems”

“You know, I don’t even care that you are fucking her or why, I just want to get out of this fucking island, this fucking school, this fucking bubble”

“You are going to drop everything, for this?”, he asked then, you thought you saw fear in his eye, but in a second it was gone

“Yes”, you said simply, bored of all this

“No”, he fought, “I was just a slip up”, he muttered, your discussion fell to whispers, in fears of all the dorms listening, “come on I can show you numbers of all students who fuck their teachers, its… a rite of passage”, he said dismissively

“what?”, you asked

“Yes, Its psychology, you see, she is a hot older woman, and we are still in our teenage years, it is normal one feels an attraction for a woman in the position of power, besides, she reach me, because she was concerned for you, and I was too, things escalated, it was a one time thing, the heat of the moment, it meant nothing… Maegor had his Tyanna, but also his Ceryse…”, was he seriously comparing himself to the second ever president of this country that had a first lady and a mistress?

“Aemond”, you called, frowning

“What?”

“Let’s play a game of hide and seek, alright? I hide, and you seek psychological help”, he only looked at you, a dead expression on his face, and then he exploded in a rage

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”, he almost screamed, “What the actual fuck is wrong with you??? YOU ARE IMMATURE, AND CHILDISH, YOU DON’T EVEN HEAR A WORD I’M SAYING”

“I don’t need to Aemond”, you whispered

“So what?”, he snarled, “you are going to leave?”

“Yes Aemond”, you whispered, “I’m going to leave, this school, you, and everyone on it”

“No”, he muttered, shaking his head, “no, after all of this? one single mistake and you're going to leave just like that?”, he asked

“Yes”, you said quietly, “I need to go Aemond”, now it sank in, and he looked at you, his eye open wide, his mouth barely open, surprise, even a bit of skepticism, innocence even

“Don’t go”, he said simply, “it will not happen again”

“It’s been going on for weeks, right? Maybe months…”

“No…”

“Don’t lie to me”, you snapped, “have the decency to be truthful”

“Two months”, he said, you barely nodded

“Goodbye Aemond”, you whispered, and you walked away from him and your dorm room

You knew he was not going to go after you, but you also knew he knew you, and he was going to let you “cool down”, like every time you had an argument

He knew you were going to “crawl back to him”

And you spend the next day abed, Maris let you be, barely talked to you and you appreciated it, and then, sooner than you expected… you heard a knock on the door, and then, it opened, you raised from your lethargy to see the dark brown locks of the most important person to you

“What do I have to do to get a drink around here?”, she asked out loud, she removed her dark sunglasses and looked directly at you, “my beautiful god given daughter”, she muttered looking at you in the bed

“Godmother”, you whined, tears in your eyes

A long shower and an hour later, you found yourself at the coffee shop with your godmother, sipping a skinny latte, her… you were an extra cocoa mocha with whipped cream on it. You wore proudly Ben’s Jersey he gifted you

You told her everything

in whispers and conspicuous looks

“Oh darling”, she whined, arranging a lock of hair behind your ear, “I will take you up there, alright?”, she offered with a wide smile, “I’ll take you myself to Winterfell University, the palace you should have gone to in the first place, and those colors looked wonderful on you, my beautiful girl”

“You don’t have to”, you said, smiling shyly, she sighed

“No I do, I mean, it's perfect timing, you see, that motherfucker’s father, Viserys is campaigning AGAIN to be the mayor of King’s Landing, AGAIN!”, she whined, and you couldn’t help but giggle, “and as always, he invited me, to be there in front row”

“How much money he wanted this time?”, you asked

“Too much”, she said seriously, “I know my husband’s fund he left me was for precisely political campaigning, but, everything has a limit”, she said dismissively, “so, instead, a Velaryon cruise sounds just, perfect”, she whined, “what do you say? two weeks in the narrow sea, a nice week in White Harbour, they say the spa’s there are to die for, and then, I’ll drop you off at Winterfell”, she said lovingly, “recharged after vacations, ready to start your new life, away from that inbred family of fuckers”, she whispered, caressing your cheek, you laughed

“I love that idea”, you said, she dropped a kiss in your hand she was holding

“I’ll be staying at the Golden Lion hotel, alright? you just finish your things here, and I’ll make some calls''

“I love you godmother”, you whispered

“And I love you too my sweet sweet girl”, she whispered, “they will get fucked, like they deserve”, it sounded like a promise

“I don’t want anyone to get hurt”

“They won’t”, she said, “only they will get what they are owed”, sometimes she scared you

The bells above the door dinged and when you looked up, there she was

Fucking boyfriend fucker

Her face was like a Valyrian tragedy when she saw you, pale as paper, you couldn’t hide your anger, rage, hate on her

She walked towards your table

“Can we have a word?”, she asked, looking at your godmother sheepishly

“No”, you said, “I have nothing to say to you”, you growled, she looked uncomfortable

“Please”

“Leave me alone or everyone on this school is going to see the picture of you fucking my nineteen year-old boyfriend in your desk in your classroom”, you threatened, and with tears in her eyes she left the coffeshop

You then looked at your godmother

“I want to leave now”, you said

“I’ll get help to get your things”, she said softly.

Afterchapter notes: I think I’m having the “walt disney complex”, almost none of my MC’s have parents… sorry :( sometimes I think it's easier, in this case, for an eighteen year-old to make this kinds of decisions and move across the country and paying for it haha, I think it's easier for reader to have a badass godmother, I have one and it's the coolest

taglist!: @mxtokko @princesssterek @thefandomimagines @iamavailablesstuff @misspascalpunk @sweethoneyblossom1 @ipostwhtifeel @lunamoonbby @ahristata

#misguidedneed #aemond targaryen x reader #cregan stark x reader #aemond targaryen #hotd modern au #college au #cregan stark #house targaryen #hbo house of the dragon

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corruptedcaps · 1 year ago

Text

Possessive

Oh, quiet your whining. I'll give this body back to your girlfriend when I've completed my unfinished business or whatever. You think I want to possess your Rebecca’s body? It's so dorky and unathletic. Don't forget that I used to be head cheerleader before I died, so this is a huge step down in my eyes. It's not my fault her body is the only one I could possess.

But let me tell you something, I won't waste this opportunity. Being stuck as a ghost as so dull, and now I get to experience the living again. Sure, her body might not be perfect, but I'll make it work. And hey, I'll even bring some of that cheerleading spirit into her life. She'll thank me later when she's the most popular girl in school. So, quit complaining and let me do my thing. I promise you, I'll give her body back in top-notch condition. Besides, it's not like you have any other options. You want me gone? Help me finish my business, and then I'll leave you all alone. Deal?

How am I supposed to find out my unfinished business if I have to be stuck in your girlfriend’s clothes? That's why I went shopping for clothes more my style. It's not like I can roam around in those frumpy outfits of hers. I need something more alluring and fabulous. More my liking. Her body actually isn’t as bad as I thought. Especially after I hit the gym with it. Only a week in and it’s already more flexible.

So, I hit the stores and picked out some seriously sexy clothes that will make her old wardrobe look like a joke. Picture this: a sleek, black leather mini-skirt that shows off her now toned legs. I paired it with a low-cut, crimson crop top that accentuates her nearly perfect curves. Oh, and let's not forget the stilettos that add a touch of sophistication and make me feel powerful.

But the real showstopper is the crimson lace lingerie set I bought. What a peek? Of course you do. It's daring, it's fierce, and it's exactly what I need to remind myself that I'm still desirable in this world. It may be Rebecca's body, but I'm the one wearing it, and I'm determined to make the most of it.

So, here I am, looking fabulous, ready to take on the world. This unfinished business won't know what hit it once I get started. Oh, and don't worry, I'll return all of Rebecca's clothes to their boring place in the closet when I'm done. But until then, this body is all mine, and I'm going to make the most of it.

I was finding it hard and frankly boring trying to figure out what unfinished business I had so I recruited my old friends to help. I must say, it's been quite entertaining to see how easily I've manipulated them into following me, all without them knowing it's me inside Rebecca's body. It turns out that all she ever needed was a strong personality at the wheel.

My old clique fell right into line, just like the good old days. They can't resist being around the "it" girl that I’ve made Rebecca into. It's amusing to watch them compete for my attention, trying to be the one closest to the new popular girl. It’s kind of hawt making them bend to my will as Rebecca, when only a few weeks ago they were her bullies.

They listen to my every word, take my suggestions as law, and treat me like a queen bee as they should. I've perfected the art of a withering stare and a cutting remark that leaves them quivering in their boots. They want to be me, to be close to me, and they're falling over themselves to earn my approval.

I know you're mad that I've been taking so long, but you can't deny the improvements I've made to Rebecca's life, her body, her social status. Look at how she's thriving now, thanks to me! Besides, it's not every day your girlfriend becomes the center of attention and the most sought-after girl in town, you should be happy.

I get it, you miss the girl you knew, but let's be real, she was never this captivating. With me in control, she's more confident, more assertive, and more irresistible. I may be in her body, but I've taken it to heights she never dreamed of reaching. Never in a million years would she had tried out for the cheerleading team let alone run it like I do now.

Plus you can’t say you’re not happy with how hot I’ve made her. Weeks in the gym has given her an even better body than I had before. Her naturally slender frame was crying out to be whipped into shape. Plus look at the added effect it’s had on these tits, aren’t they glorious?

Tell you what, why don’t you touch them? Hell, give them a good squeeze. Oh fuuuuck yessss just like that. Bet Rebecca didn’t let you do this. You’re getting horny for bitchy little Rebecca aren’t you? Go on big boy, show me how much you love what I’ve done to her by taking out your dick and stroking it for me. Oh my, that’s certainly bigger than I expected from you. Yes stroke it for me baby, stroke it for baddie Becky. Oh you like that don’t you? Becky is a much better name don’t you think. Cum for me baby, cum for Becky.

You can’t be mad at me for making you cum every day this week, I’m just doing what comes natural to me, which is being a hawt piece of ass. Plus I’m not forcing you to do anything. I know you’ve been looking up ways to exercise me from Rebecca’s body to try and soothe your guilty conscience but I’m sorry to tell you babe, I’m never leaving. It’s my body now.

I’ve realized my unfinished business is to live a long and full life as Becky, the ultimate bitch. Come closer, darling. Look into my eyes and see the fire that burns within me. I’m more alive now then she ever was and even more than I had ever been in my own body. Being Becky has been the best thing to ever happen to me and soon it will be for you too.

You see, while you were busy searching for ways to banish me, I was doing my own research. Those books you've been reading, the ones on magic and exorcism, well, they caught my interest too. And I've delved into the dark arts, learning things that would make your skin crawl.

I now possess power beyond your wildest imagination, and I must say, it's quite liberating. I've discovered spells that can bend the very fabric of reality, including one that allows me to remove someone's morals. It's a fascinating little trick, and I believe you'll find it quite enlightening.

Like right now I’m sure you’re feeling all urges to purge me from this gorgeous body I’ve perfected just evaporate from your mind. In fact you feel a deep devotion to me, Becky, your gorgeous girlfriend. As much as I love that dick of yours i need a man to match it but don’t worry, I’ve got that all worked out. I’m a matter of moments you’ll be my handsome, strong and arrogant boyfriend who loves to bully as much as I do. You’ll have no memory of Rebecca or the loser that she was. All that you’ll remember is Becky.

Oh, darling, you know how much it excites me to see you bullying others. It's hard to keep my hands off you when you're radiating that aura of arrogance and charm. Who would have thought that beneath that sexy exterior, there was a deliciously dark and handsome bully? The way you sneer at those lesser souls, mock them, and make them tremble in fear—it's a work of art. Ugh I can’t stand it anymore, let’s get back to your car and fuck, it’s so hawt to hear you yell out Becky!

#f2f #bitchification #evil bitch #female possession #corrupted pov #cc2023

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alexsoenomel · 2 years ago

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Chokehold (Sam Winchester x Reader smut)

Request: Hey I don’t know if you’re taking requests but I was reading Adrenlize Me and I had an idea for a part 2? Sam and reader have been getting at it for a bit but this time they finally say “I love you” to each other? Rough smut with a little dash of fluff? 🥰

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: sexy times and I love you’s, mentions of addiction

Word count: 2.1k

Note: I apologize for being so slow (school+work+ADHD). Writing this made me realize how single I actually am.

Enjoy! Like/Reblog or both if you like it! :)

PART 1

Addiction. First, it feels like a warm hug, sucking you in, disguising itself as something familiar, something beautiful, and finally, you feel like you filled that hole in your soul. Then it starts taking, it takes and takes until there is nothing left to take, until you cannot give anymore – until you’re dead. You find out, a little too late, that the warm hug was just a one-way ticket to your inevitable demise.

This started as a deep-seated need but turned into a full-blown addiction sooner than I thought, but the only difference was this was a blissful one, with no reaper waiting for you at the end. It only brought endless pleasure.

Sam was no better than me. We couldn’t stop ourselves; every touch, every kiss would send us into a euphoric state, and it was better than any drug known to man.

After our little adventure in Dean’s beloved Baby, we tried to keep our dirty little secret hidden. Sam would come to my room only during the night when he could hear Dean snoring in his room, and even then, we had to be careful since Dean was a light sleeper. He would muffle my moans with his hand whenever he was on top of me, he would sometimes even let me bite his shoulder, but it was impossible to be quiet, especially when we both liked listening to each other come undone. Long story short, Dean found out.

“Good thing you two lovebirds finally got together! The bad thing is now I cannot sleep.” He told us one morning while sipping his black coffee, clearly tired and cranky.

Lovebirds.

That word was stuck in my brain that day. It still would pop up occasionally. It reminded me that we never labeled our little arrangement. When it happened, we would carry on, pretend like this thing was meaningless, and then we would do it all over again. We would cover every topic under the Sun apart from this one. We completely ignored it, but it was there, just around the corner, something more than just a meaningless hookup.

Sure, he was able to make my legs shake, make me forget my existence, and his touch would set me on fire every damn time, but the way he would look at me right before I would come, the way we would look at each other… I knew I was falling for him.

We were birds of a feather –we connected through art, books, and music. We liked the same things but were far different characters. I was more of a 'Shoot first, ask questions later' kind of girl, like his older brother, and he was far from that. He was my voice of reason when I would let my emotions consume me; he was the one who would tell Dean and me to get our shit together whenever we would jump the gun (and that would often happen because we were both hotheads). We worked perfectly together.

***

"God, I'm exhausted!" I said and put my bag on the table.

We just got back from a hunt in Omaha, Nebraska, and it was a wild one. It dragged to no end until we finally ganked the ghost that was killing unfaithful men. I almost got thrown off the balcony, Dean almost got stabbed, and Sam, well he took care of it. Overall, I was just happy the case was over and, that I could sleep in my/Sam's bed.

"Me too! Gonna hit the hay!" Dean said taking his shoes off.

"Already? It's only 10 pm." Sam said. On a rare occasion, Dean would sleep early, he was the worst night bird in the flock. For him, 2 am was too early for bed, and mornings started at noon.

"Sammy, I almost got stabbed today! Yeah, already." Dean said and disappeared into the hallway.

"Night, Dean!" I said.

"Night, night!" I heard him say.

I was immediately hit with the realization that I was alone with Sam. There was something so alluring about him that made me nervous in the best way possible. It would boost my dopamine and adrenaline – like a drug. I swallowed nervously as I turned to see he was staring back at me and I immediately recognized the look – the look of devotion.

"What?" I asked. He looked tired, with messy hair, and bags under his eyes. I was a tired mess too. During these days caffeine kept me awake and sharp since we were working night and day trying to solve the gruesome mystery.

"Shower?" He asked.

"Please!"

We went to his room since I would spend most of my nights there. What started as casual, grew to be a routine. I started hating sleeping alone in cold sheets – his warmth kept me safe.

When we entered his room, pleasant silence joined us. We stripped down our dirty clothes and sins as we went to the bathroom. We didn’t say a word until warm water touched our tired bodies.

“Warm enough?” Sam asked me.

I nodded. He shampooed my hair, and I did my body while letting my muscles relax under the shower, feeling every part of me slowly shutting down from exhaustion. Once my hair was nice and cleaned and I turned to face Sam, kissing where his heart was as I balanced myself on my tiptoes since he was much taller than me.

“My turn?” I asked and got on his knees, like he usually would do when I wanted to wash his hair, and wrapped his hands around my waist, cupping my ass. It wasn’t the first time we showered together, the aftercare was as important for him as it was for me, but this time it felt far more intimate and real. The aftercare would usually turn into rough shower sex, leaving me breathless and sometimes even covered in bruises, but this time I saw true intimacy and meaning of showering together.

Sam kissed my stomach as I washed his hair, sending light shivers all over my body. His hand went between my legs, and a light moan escaped from my lips.

“All done!” My voice trembled. Sam stood up and kissed me hungrily. I could never get enough of his kisses, his lips were soft, kisses sweet kinda like cherries in spring, nothing like I’ve ever tasted before. He broke the kiss as our eyes met, water still running down our bodies. I could feel his breath on my lips. The air, even though hot and heavy, got a little bit chilly for a second – or was I getting nervous? I could feel my heartbeat in my throat. I didn’t know why I was getting nervous. Everything that seemed familiar was now foreign to me. Even though we fucked a million times, even though we both had seen each other naked, I was still feeling that tickling sensation in the pit of my stomach.

Sam turned off the shower. We did our night routine in blissful silence. Skincare, haircare, the whole nine yards…in blissful pleasant silence. Sam even started using my Vitamin C serum, when I told him how good it is for the skin.

I was pleasantly surprised when he took a little bit of my hydrating cream after the serum. I would always use that after having a rough day on the job, it did wonders for my tired skin.

“You’re learning,” I told him as I brushed my teeth.

“From the best.” He simply said.

***

I didn’t remember the last time I did my night routine in my bathroom – and it all started when Dean caught me leaving his room to get my toothbrush.

“You two are louder than a jackhammer!” He told me as he opened the door of his room, messy hair, eyes barely open, clearly feeling creaky from lack of sleep…again. “Keep it down, or I swear I’ll kill you both!”

“Sorry!” I was embarrassed but trying hard not to laugh.

Ever since then, I decided not to leave his room during the night. So, naturally, I started leaving my stuff in Sam’s room.

***

After we got in our pajamas; Sam in his gray sweatpants and me in my oversized blue T-shirt I “borrowed” from him, got under the covers. I could feel my whole body relaxing, as I let my mind drift God knows where…I was ready to fall asleep, but Sam had other plans. He wrapped his hand around my waist pulling me closer to him. His semi-hard cock was pressed against my ass, and I felt his lips on my neck.

“Yeah, Sammy?” I bit my lower lip.

“I don’t wanna sleep.” He mumbled between kisses.

I turned around, missing the softness of his lips on mine. I kissed him, feeling the minty taste on his lips. My hand went in his hair, pulling him closer to me. He moaned when I pulled his locks, sending shivers all over his body. He pushed me back onto the mattress as he climbed on top of me, leaving kisses all over my jaw and neck. I loved his lips on my skin, I loved everything about them; the softness, the taste, the ability to make me wet in seconds…

“You got me worried today,” Sam whispered between kisses.

“Sorry, I was a hot-headed dumbass.”

I thought I could take down the ghost by myself. I didn’t stick to the plan and almost got thrown off the balcony when the damn thing attacked me – my mistake.

“Like always.”

And that’s why you love me. I bit my tongue. I felt my walls completely coming down under him. I didn’t care about labels, I didn’t care what we were, I just knew my heart was struggling to stay silent. I wanted to say those words as much as I desperately wanted to hear them from him.

“Shut up and kiss me!” I told him instead.

Sam pressed his lips on mine, this time his hand went down my stomach between my legs. His fingers were cold, making my skin shiver, but his touch bought endless pleasure.

I could feel his two fingers in me for a few seconds before he pulled away.

“Tease,” I said annoyed. He loved making me beg and feel desperate and I loved every second of it.

He licked his fingers clean and kissed me letting me have a taste as well.

“You are delicious.”

Everything about this seemed different. He was sweeter and far more gentle. Usually, he would tell me to be quiet, his good girl, he would be rough, but this time…he wasn’t? He had a gentle side, but I’d rarely see it. I felt something was different. I felt my heart connecting with his and my soul feeling closer to his own.

“And you’re a tease.”

He laughed, showing off those cute little dimples I adored so much.

"Just a little. " He smirked before kissing me again. I was growing impatient, and it was like he heard me. He wasted no time, he moved my panties to the side as I helped him lower his sweatpants. He entered me slowly, letting me adjust to his size, letting me bask in the pleasure his cock was giving me. I buried my fingers into his damp hair, arching my back slightly.

"You feel so good!"

He would always tell me that. Every time. No exception. He knew his words made me needy, horny, and desperate…He knew what buttons to push.

He started to move and that was when my heart decided to work against me…or it did me a favor? My eyes were lost in his, not wanting to break the contract. I was feeling every inch of him, slowly moving in and out, skin to skin….

"I love you!"

I heard myself say. My heart was pounding, I could see his expression change as his hair was falling on my cheeks…he smiled and kissed me.

"I love you too!"

I didn't expect this answer from him. At the moment it didn't seem real but I think we both knew it was coming. Between the constant staring, and flirting just to gross out Dean and the genuine connection we had, we knew…

Sam's pace became faster, and I was slowly losing it. His face was inches away from mine, feeling each other's breaths as my climax was getting closer. I could feel my body shaking, my nails digging into his back as I couldn’t get his name out of my mouth.

“Come on, baby!” He whispered in my ear.

I loved his voice, I loved his touch, his kiss. I loved him.

I came hard, biting his shoulder (Sam didn’t even flinch), not wanting to be too loud because of Dean and his “Next time I’m gonna kill you both” sentence.

He kissed me before collapsing next to me. We were both panting, waiting for someone to say something, to break the ice that had already been broken when I told him I love you. But no one did. Instead, we fell asleep, my head on his chest, safe and sound.

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minzis · 1 year ago

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The Devil Has A New Lover

Art Credits: colin_3dart

✞❘༻An obsessive König one shot༺❘✞

✦❘༻My first time attempting to genuinely write so if it’s not the best be mindful of that! Semi graphic? A bit suggestive as well König is a bit of a perv in this so… About 5.8k words give or take.

✦❘༻The german in this is fairly rough I tried my best in researching properly for it so if there’s any mistakes in translation let me know.

✦❘༻I’ve had ‘Take Me To Church’ on repeat while writing this so take that as you will. Lowkey fulfilling my own obsession with obsessive/yandere König tbh.

✦❘༻ ─────•~✞~•───── ༺❘✦

Your finger flicker off the match, his bloodied clothes engulfed in bright flames. It seemed to have extend to your aching heart, tainting your soul a deep black. A color that used to only suit König alone. A fire that endlessly burned torching your skin on more then one occasion.

The flames dancing and crackling like a broken song similar to the one that played so beautifully every time he kissed you, every time he touched you. Lifted and held you in his arms as if he was some knight in shiny armor. How well you fit into his hands, molded into a pure perfection of his own making.

A gaze that burrowed beneath your skin like a fatal infection. One that had already picked you apart and pieced you back together more times then you’d ever know.

You knew from the beginning what type of person he was, wether it was subconsciously or not. Everyone knew how he was always a moments away from his next nervous breakdown. He was a terrifyingly beautiful force to be reckoned with on the field.

Death was this man’s best friend like a shadow that followed him even on the brightest of days.

The way he killed with his bare hands would’ve been enough to damn his soul for an eternity. A weapon in his hands only made him evolve into a worsening form of himself. He knew no amount of cleansing or repenting would save him.

Everything about him wasn’t normal, he was never normal. But by god did he make the devilish acts feel like a degraded version of heaven. His actions showed that he was some form of nasty demon but his touch was that of a saint. The voice dipped in honey, brewed in ecstasy. It was beautiful, and he made it feel beautiful. The blood on his hands that never truly washed away.

He had to be some sort of drug that constantly intoxicated you from the pretty skin he left marks on to the veins he lit on fire. He filled every sense in ways no normal man could ever hope to achieve. They could never be him, ever amount to him.

Sometimes you wondered if the feelings you had for him scared you more then the man himself. Why did the devil make evil look so enchanting? If you held him surely you’d be dragged down with him by the many sins he committed on the battlefield.

You’d feel the many ghost that haunted his thoughts, the innocent, evil, and everything in between. Maybe that’s why you enticed him so much, the ghost’s screams who sounded less prevalent when he was near you.

His life an endless cycle of what was, never a moments thought of an after or before. He was a mere animated corpse with a heartbeat. That’s why they loved him so much, his soullessness.

There was no mission too evil, even if he was damned to hell for eternity not even the devil could stop him. He was who they sent on the missions nobody dared to considered, the hushed ones hauled off in the dark. The ones that leave you awake on a cold summer night praying you’d simply forget it all but they’d forever haunt the deepest parts of your mind.

Like a chained dog thrown a bone when his existence was needed but never wanted.

He hoped on many countless night that on one of the dreadful missions a stray bullet would find its way embedded into his skin, or a simple slip up that left him bleeding out on the floor. Maybe that’s why on some missions he wouldn’t wear his bulletproof vest just to test his favor with death. He didn’t care how painful it was just that he was relived from this horrid existence people dared to call living. He was never truly living to begin not with what he’s done.

Just a dead man walking.

Karma was going to come for him it was only a question of when.

But then there was you, the new sergeant on the force who was known to have worked her ass off. And of course you were a fucking sniper, a hell of one that even the men who disliked you couldn’t mouth a word.

Something about it pissed him off, you were what he wanted to be. What he should’ve been and you were damn good at it. You were kind, too kind. How odd that you could hold such a level of optimism and humanity in a job like this.

How easily your peers flocked to you, people enjoyed your presence. A refreshing one compared to the one he brought every time he entered the room. Silence always fell over the laughter, eyes stuck to him like he was something unbearable to be around. He was respected through fear not his achievements.

Glances and words that were a coldness whenever it came to you. It was even more aggravating that despite it all, it was you that kept him up late at night.

The last thing he thought about before he went to sleep and the first he thought of when he awoke. Day in day out it was all you. No matter what he did you never left, he had to see you every damn day of the week. Nearly 24 hours a god damn day.

You were who he yelled at the loudest, punishments the made no sense compared to the fuck-up. Yet you still smiled at him, tried to laugh with him. Treated him with kindness and respect that wasn’t out of fear but admiration.

Why? What made him worth even being allowed in your vicinity.

A mission arose eventually like they always do. A two man job, one he sure as hell didn’t want to go on. Nobody’s hand raised, nor any voices raised to be his partner and everyone suggested you. How thoughtful? He was damn near seething when he had to approach and inform you of it. He practically threw the papers on your desk, “Ready in twenty Mäuschen.”

Your eyes searched over the papers in confusion before looking back up at him. You almost expected his words to be a weird sense of humor he had, but his eyes read he was far from joking. He narrowed his eyes at you like a predator stalking it prey. It was honestly quite terrifying how small he made you feel from a single glance.

You weren’t sure if you were supposed to smile or form some bullshit of a sentence that he’d rather not hear. You nodded your head shuffling the papers together, by time you had gathered your thoughts enough to look back up he was long gone. A sigh fell out your mouth as you slumped back in your chair, head resting in your palms.

It’s fine right? I mean sure he has an obvious distaste towards you but a mission is a mission. Wether he possibly hated you or not his work ethic wouldn’t allow him to let his personal feelings get in the way. If that’s what he even felt if anything at all, distaste or hatred? It’s all the same when it comes from him.

Shouldn’t you just give up? Call it quits? It’s been almost a month or two now since you’ve joined the team and he showed no signs of changing the relationship between y’all anytime soon. Let alone allowing you any type of close to him especially anything beyond a coworker type bases. It was obvious he only tolerated you cause he had to not because he wanted too.

What was supposed to be an in and out minimum contact mission ended up going completely haywire, nobody was supposed to get hurt, not on your side at the least.

Sure you’re on the field but never in immediate danger sure as hell not trying to save that monstrous of a man. A sniper, mere specter of the battle watching it unfold, finger firm on the trigger as König commanded your every move.

It was a bit of a surprise how well you flowed together. Synchronized movements with yards between y’all, moving as one. From the looks of it you’d almost have assumed you two had worked together for years but you two accomplished what would have taken some weeks of practice.

You trailed his every move through the scope becoming his eyes from the sky, the light blooming in the dark as his passion for blood seeped from him.

You weren’t sure if you should call it a passion or an obsession. Bloodlust even? He wasn’t just killing for the purpose of the mission he was doing it cause he enjoyed it. Yet for the most maddening of reasons he made it look beautiful.

Often or not people tend to forget the devil was once an angel, written out as this demonic being so atrociously evil. The devil dresses in ethereal dripping in sins so intoxicating you’d be fooled into falling for the fallen angel. He makes evil look heavenly as if there would be no price to pay for taking his hand.

Make no mistake there will always be a price to pay for dancing with the devil.

Something about it was enriching, exhilarating of an experience. To be tempted by the devil, by him. What did it make you? A craving coursed through you like a toxin as your watchful eyes admired him from afar. What you don’t know can’t hurt you right? It shouldn’t matter if you kept it to yourself. Just spectating like you always have would’ve been enough.

But like they always say careful what you wish for.

If it weren’t for the extensive training you went through you probably would’ve never seen the glint in the distance. Brief and quick you knew it all to well, the glare of a sniper. Within the brief thought process your finger pulled the trigger immediately downing the other sniper. They weren’t aiming at you though. Before you could fully understand the situation König’s voice rung out over the radio.

“Verdammter scheiß,” he cursed out through the radio, your hand immediately clicked too your own.

Your eyes searched the field where he had just been and he was nowhere to be seen. “Sir where are you, I took out the sniper but I lost sight of you?!” Your panicked voice called for him as you hurriedly gathered your gear. Leaving the sniper behind you rushing down from the spot you had been at. Slipping out the small pistol you carried along your belt.

You shoved through the trees towards where you assumed he had been. Overlooking the field from your current position it was damn near impossible to see him now with the cover of darkness. You cursed to yourself beginning to rack your brain for whatever the fuck you were gonna have to tell your team on why only one of you came back. Let alone your own personal feelings that lingered past the depths of a simple coworker relation.

It was your job to watch him the only reason you were brought along in the first place was to watch over König from the tree line assuring him cover as he infiltrated the building. “König you’re gonna have to tell me where you are or we’re both fucked,” you huffed at the radio as the dread clawing at you.

His voice cracked back over the radio, “Side building.” A hissed followed after the information as you worried over how much time there was before the loss of blood would kill him. You attempted to brush any of the thoughts out and focus on finding him first.

Sprinting through the shadows for cover, occasionally scanning the area. Your movements were quickly and fluid downing whatever men that managed to evade König’s wrath. It was fairly easy to locate the man considering the bodies he left in his wake.

“König?!?” You yelled as you darted around corners in search of him. A soft pained groaned echoed nearby in response from beside you. Your eyes immediately shot over to the sound only too find the man slumped up against a wall. A sizable pool of blood beside him a grim expression grew on your face at the sight.

The man was painted in the crimson decorating his entire uniform in it and for once it was mixed with his own. He could hardly tell the difference between what blood was and wasn’t his own.

There were no words as you rushed to his side searching for the wound on his body. It was what he was longing to feel. His body draining of its life. He was content with having died then and there but how could he when someone was so desperately calling out for him?

Someone who he had never shown an ounce of kindness too. Such a worried expression painted on her face, for a demon like him? A man who thought he didn’t deserve nor thought to ever receive such kindness, such warmth.

He grunted loudly choking harshly on his own blood, his eyes burned through his hood at the woman before him. He hadn’t spoken a word as you tended to the bullet that ripped a hole midway through his abdomen. The bleeding was a large amount staining your hands a dark red.

The thought had made him sad, his soiled blood tainting your skin. That’s not right your hands should be cleaned, cleansed of him. He feared his monstrous blood would only infect yours like a deadly disease, he was only dragging your soul from heaven.

Anytime you asked a question or spoke it was only met with a meek glance from his side. You quickly learned to read the emotions within his eyes. “Dammit you scared the shit out of me you know?” You whispered yelled your complaints making haste on stuffing the wound with the bandages you had on hand. At least so could make it back too some form of safety without worry of him bleeding out before then.

You motioned for him to stand up as you hurriedly helped him out of sight and to a near by building. It was funny to him someone of your size practically struggling to keep him up shuffling together through the building. Nether the less getting him back safely.

A loud grunt fell out your mouth as you searched for something he could lay on. You found a nearby table shoving the mess of items off it. He groaned half hazardously sitting down on the thing as you glanced around before finding a med-kit to properly treat his wound.

You had panicked eyes as you flipped through your brain for the shit you half listened to during basic medical training. Your shit memory never doing you good as parts of the information blurred out. Especially considering your new position and usually if ever directly in the middle of the combat.

You muttered multiple sorry’s after every sound he made his hand occasionally slamming at the table signifying you were more then likely doing something wrong. Your attempt was surely not the best but decent enough to keep him alive before a evacuation team could get too you.

In truth it did hurt like hell but it wasn’t something he hadn’t been through before. He probably could’ve stitched it himself but you were desperately offering your help. Soft gentle hands that were steady but a shaking voice as you made apologetic comments towards him. For once he thanked having always worn his hood cause you would’ve seen the nasty look on his face.

He was smiling, fucking smiling. He was enjoying this. You helping, tending to him.

It was a pretty damn sight to as you sat bent down looking over his abdomen. Hand pressing tenderly at his skin before pulling the needle through making up a half decent stitching job.

You’d occasionally glance up towards him sending this man into a frustrated frenzy. You shouldn’t look at him like that not this close. That worried glassed over look in your eyes. You were trusting him too much, what if he decided too just grab hold of you? He could couldn’t he, snap that pretty neck with ease. Could you be anymore naive?

That made him sick didn’t it, a freak of nature probably. He understood long before he wasn’t going to be save, the thoughts he had flooding in his head. What he was thinking of you, what he wanted to do too you. Yet here you were blessing his body with care and stitches made from nothing but pure kindness and compassion with a reassuring smile.

Maybe it was then when your fate had been decided, when he decided you were going to be his. The angel that was made just for him, just how he was made for you. You weren’t just any angel. You were his angel, his saving grace from the hellish life that threatened to drive him right off the edge.

It was almost like a light switch in his changing behavior, it’s was rapid. Too quick that it should’ve been a sign then but you were happy excited even. It’s what you had been wanting, he was finally accepting towards you.

For you it was a new friend made but for him it was a vast difference. As if his world had stopped turning only to revolve around you. The gift bestowed upon him by god, had it been some apology for casting him out? Surely it was why else where you so kind to him?

“I brought us both coffee,” you’d exclaim with a soft smile offering him the large cup that looked like a small in his hands. That means you feel the same right? It had to be the little favors you did for him and nobody else. Feeding his deranged fantasy of the love between you.

Bits of small talk you’d offer rambling about whatever crossed your mind as he hovered over you. He’d simply listen to everyone taking note of anything you’d mentioned you liked or hated that would randomly pop up on your desk or at your doorstep. A soft look in his eyes that’d narrow if another man even dared to look your way, which was more often than he could handle.

The occasion praises of adoration you’d spew as he’d showed off the knife tricks he’s taught himself over the years. Your praise alone was enough to fulfill him. Tricks that seemed to always fascinate you. He would continued to do anything you asked of him if it made you happy in any sense, all you had to do was ask. Over time he began to realize your focus never on the knife but his hands. Eyes darting around after every flip and flick. A small perk of a smile on your face, lips parted slightly as you shamelessly stared at the man.

And by gods did he use that to his advantage, you need something of a higher self? Oh but of course but his free hand will mange to find its way to your waist squeezing every so gently. He needs by? “Entschuldigung,” he’d whisper in that gentle tone as he pressed his hands at your sides moving you himself.

Eyes that went wide as you’d give a quick apologetic nod unable to form a proper response at times. A soft shudder that followed every time despite the seemingly endless amount of times you just so happened to be in his path. Your sweet voice echoing desperately in his ears on the few occasions you would apologize.

‘Oh I’m sorry.’ ‘My apologies sir.’ ‘Sorry sir.’

As if he wasn’t the one planning every action down to the bone just cause he knew it’d get a rise out of you.

‘Haven’t you been taught not to play with your food?’

For you it never applied to him, a brushed of his hands as you put your gear on insisting it would make it easier on you. He’s happy to help he’d say. Smiles, he was all smiles under that damned hood of his. It was almost impossible how far the man could smile but you could debate the sheer size of the man was simply impossible. Nearly twice your size, at the very least a foot taller. Like always you’d gracefully accept his helping bounder-less hands, only ever further indulging his desires. He was having fun with this, with you.

Seemed to understand and know everything you liked. That new song you mention unable to find it again, “Oh you mean__?” He’d tilt his head as you as you’d scoff in surprise. “Yeah actually, how’d you know?” he’d only ever follow up with a shrug walking away as you chalked it up to some funny coincidence.

It never would be though cause he already knew that about you, every core details you ever posted, wrote or tweeted about. If it was public he found it, he knew exactly who you were and it only depended his affection. Despite the man’s age he was not stupid by any means especially technologically wise, it was a terrifying level of understanding.

Stalking every corner of your socials, hell even old ones you forgot about that were assumed to be deleted. Every photo or video you’ve ever posted he had seen them all, downloaded and saved. That nice little folder for you on his personal computer named, ‘Engelchen.’ It was mostly for him to gawk at on the days it had been too long since you last posted anything new. There were a few other uses for the photos he stole found of you.

A handful on his new phone he bought just for the times he’s deployed for a long period of time unable to access his computer. He wouldn’t dare to have them on his work on, what if others seen you? He couldn’t have anybody else’s greedy eyes on what was his.

Probably why on a deranged night he broke into your apartment, that day that photo you posted and it had garnered a bit too much attention for his liking. He tired to talk himself out of it multiple times, it should’ve only been for his eyes alone. He was growing needy, possessively dangerous.

“Mien engel, warum hast du das getan?!” It drove the man mad. It was this uncontrollable craze he’d never felt before. Anger and adrenaline flooded his veins as he found himself in your living room. Shouldn’t you be a lot more careful I mean an open window? Seriously?

It was so obvious you need him to protect you, care for you and be that knight in shining armor for his angel.

His soundless footsteps treaded through the rooms, his head tilting as he knelt down in-front of your bed. Your sleeping form entangled in the sheets, a peaceful expression that was just as he imagined. He reached his gloved hands over your face brushing the stray hairs from your eyes getting a clear view. He couldn’t bring himself to feel your skin with his bear hands, he wouldn’t be able to control himself then.

He stared a few moments more before tearing through your dresser digging through the drawers finally finding what he came for. That damn outfit you wore in the god forsaken photo, simple solution. You can’t wear something you don’t have right? So he’ll just hold on to it for you! Until he knows for sure you’d only wear it with him, and him alone. A few other keepsakes as well.

It was only after that late night he spent at your apartment that it had truly worsened, out your sight of course. He knew better than that. His hands that began to kill all for your protection, or jealousy it was all the same to him. Persistent recruits who suddenly returned home on short notice only for their photos to later be plastered on their hometown news. Even friends you’ve know for years, he knew the look of a man’s lustful stare better then anyone. Cause it was the same look he followed you with.

He kept track of everyone you’ve ever mentioned making a mental note to fill himself in on any information he could find on them. Occasionally using his rank to pull background checks on someone’s presence that really ircked him. It was never hard to find information anyways. It didn’t matter what he had to do all that matters is making sure you only seen him.

König’s face was painted in a bloodied smile at the sight of the man’s fettle attempts at defiance. The blood poring from the finial cut along his throat. He preferred to do it slow. Painfully slow edging the various men to their deaths. What they dared to do? Trying to take something that was his. The first time he talked to you in front of him he tired to leave it be. What if his death upset you, Oh it upsets you?

It’ll be perfect, you slumped crying in his arms as he soothed your cries. Being there right when you needed it. Arms that you found comfort in when you rushed to his office when you made discovery of the death. Having no one else to turn too, it pains him more than anything to cause you such suffering. But it was necessary measures, to ensure you seen just how perfect he was for you. How much you needed him to care for you.

It was enough of repeating occurrences that you began questioning the nature of the sudden disappearances. All men who attempted to flirt with you. “I can talk to them and scare ‘em off for you, ja?” he suggested when you half heartedly complained about them. Surely not, could he have? It didn’t make sense to you, or was it that you didn’t want it to make sense.

The same man who took you out on heart throbbing dates, that left you with a fluttering feeling. They were perfect in every sense, exactly what you’d imagined that perfect teenage love story you missed out on as a kid. It was the first time you’ve ever been show such a level of devotion. Not the man who cluttered your gallery with the photos you had taken of or with him, he made you happy.

Someone who you were falling head over heels for, accepting that seemingly darker parts of him that didn’t bother you. Who knew they were this dark? He’d never do anything to hurt you, not on purpose at the least. He said he wanted to be with you build a life together. Brought you little gifts during works hours despite the list of rules discouraging dating ranks higher then you. It made you feel like a love sick school girl all over again, excitement that only filled you when he was around. How he’d swear to come back in one piece if a mission forced separation between y’all.

Your body was still damn near motionless as you felt your body go stiff at the images. You should’ve minded your business, why’d you have to be so damn nosey. König had just brought you back to his house for the first time after one of your dates together suggesting he could make dinner for you. You sat at the bar near his kitchen as he said he’d only be a minute. His laptop that has been left open was across from you, you tilted your head a bit in curiosity as the photo on it looked familiar. It would’ve been better if you hadn’t know.

It was of you, at first a giggle left your mouth as you began clicking through the said photos. Recent ones of you two doing various things, mostly you though. A smile was beaming on your face at the sight, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. It was cute how he kept these goofy photos of you two. Your hand miss clicked as you accidentally exited out the previews of them causing your smile too immediately fade.

There was more, to many too have been all taken recently. Why was there so many? You began to feel sick as you scrolled down. “Oh my god…” you choked out as you clicked on photo after photo ones you’ve never given him. Shivers went down your spine as footsteps sounded from behind you.

It was him wasn’t it?

“I love you,” is what he had said but why were they laced with such venom, and why did it feel so unsettling. You should be overjoyed right? Someone gave a shit, how he loved and cared so deeply. Yet the words left you in a cold sweat, veins coursing with this thing he considered love.

That’s why his computer was filled with photos, painted in his love for you. “Du bist wunderschön,” your eyes darting along the screen in a slow aching feeling after each click of the next photo. Mouthing running dry as a nasty taste flooded over your tongue.

It was fear, pure unbridled fear.

Every word was dripping in terror, what were you supposed to say? It made you sick, those twisting knots in your stomach. Your hand crept over your mouth as you tried to hold back the sudden wave of nausea. This was the first time you had feared the man before you.

Sure he’s done some odd shit before but this? This was only showing the beginnings of the man’s sheer lack of sanity. “You love me too right?” He spoke with that same reassuring tone but it suddenly made your skin crawl.

Confusion flooded judgement as you tried to process what was even happening. Love? You loved him right you always have. But at the same time it feels terrifying to love a man like him. His eyes looked over you in anguish as you doubted what words you were going to say next.

Your eyes dared to say as if you didn’t and it showed in his that it wouldn’t be an answer he’d willingly accept. “I love you too,” the words simply fell out your mouth, wether it was the truth or not had long been gone. It hadn’t mattered if you did or not he would show you anyways.

His hands moved to hold your cheeks as he shushed you the tears beginning to pool in you eyes, assuring you it was fine. “It was you wasn’t it?” your voice broke as you began to understand what he had done. That it was only acts of love, why he had blood on his hands in that name of his love for you. His gaze was simply deranged in itself. He did not understand nor want to understand why this could be so wrong, why it made you sick to your stomach. How it made you consider the idea of run away from him.

Not like you’d get far anyways.

He wiped are your tears as he explained how this wasn’t anything to worry about. He even suggested deleting all photos if it made you that upset, he never meant to hurt you. “I didn’t know this would upset you my love,” his eyes wore a saddened worried expression, hushed sorry’s as he soothed your worries.

I mean maybe he’s right you know, simply being irrational it was all photos you’ve publicly posted so it wasn’t necessarily private information. Definitely not the hardest of things to find. You keep photos of your favorite idol plastered all over your bedroom walls, now isn’t that the same thing? It’s fine you love him and he loves you it shouldn’t matter if he has a few photos of you. It’s not like it’s some stranger with these photos, it’s him your lovable sweet König.

“It’s okay,” a mumbled of words you made in a stupid belief that this man wasn’t borderline criminally insane. How he didn’t mean any harm no not him, sweet König wouldn’t do that. He’d never lay a finger on you, the man practically praised the ground you walk on like some goddess offering him salvation.

What’s a few photos if it means loving him? Nothing that’ll ever compare to the drug of his love.

This shouldn’t be so appealing you shouldn’t be wanting this, craving for him. Heart and mind were claiming their own reasons as to why you should and shouldn’t. He cares for you maybe he cares too much? A few bodies isn’t anything new, you’ve killed with your own hands before. Is there really any difference between what you and him do? The reasons are just slightly different.

Similar times to when you pitied Eve for the blame she had taken as her teeth sunk into temptation of the devil. He lies decorated it all your known desires. He’s terribly good at what he does isn’t he?

Your hand reached out at the disheveling flames, hovering over. It burned and stung like the same feeling his love for you gives. Its strange, you almost thought you were crazy yourself, probably would be too anybody else. But they’d never understand the relationship you two had. Nobody ever understands what the devil chooses to take and leave.

“Mein Schazti, what are you doing out here? You’ll catch a cold,” König spoke from the doorway, you turned to face him as his hair hung with wet droplets. The scars he boar on his face or else where along his body, each a different life that was taken and fought till their last breath. You glanced back over at the clothes that had turned into mere ashes of what was.

How many times was this now? Covering for the being before you, the man that replaced your shadow. Creaked his way into your life seeping through the cracks like the devil on your shoulder. He knew everything there was to know about you. Wether it was sone sick part of you the enjoyed the affection he gave you. You were okay with it, choosing to love him in every sense. Nobody could ever love someone like you the way he can is what he said.

“Nothing my love just getting rid of some old clothes is all,” a gentle reassuring smile following your words. He looked down behind you humming at the sight. He lifted off the doorway taking a few steps towards you before placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

For better or worse you were forever his, as he was yours.

#könig #könig x reader #könig mw2 #cod x reader #könig x you #könig call of duty #könig fanfiction #könig x y/n #call of duty #könig cod #könig modern warfare #obessive!König #minzis suga

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serene-sun · 2 years ago

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𝕴 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 • ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾

Pairing: Copia & young reader

Warnings: none, just comfort and fluff so sweet you will cry

A/n: I cried writing this, for many reasons, but I won’t rant on the fic itself! I did in-fact write this sleepy sleepy fic for the sleepy sleep themselves @ghostussy

“Okie dokie kiddo, it’s time for bed.” Copia softy whispered into your ear, patting your back softly as to not wake your half asleep form.

You laid pressed against copia in his lap as he worked on some final plans for the clergy, you had insisted you help him, only to fall asleep from the days earlier excitement.

You groan a little, letting him know you at least heard him. You fell even more limp into his warm embrace as he fixed you to be more secure in his chest as he stood From his dark oak desk.

“My bambino, so sleepy, so tired from all of that well spent energy.” He huffed under his breath, just barely a whisper

The hallways were warm, candles lined the walls with red and black drapes, and the stone floor you both strode along. At every window, a painted vase stood filled with fresh flowers. You always loved the smell, it was so refreshing and nice, and color.

“Before you slip into pjays, let’s get you a nice bath, shall we?” Copia asks you, pushing open the door to his chambers.

He lead you to the bathroom, already having your soaps and toys as you had seemed to form the habit of having copia do you nightly routine.

You slowly nod, sleep making your eyelids heavier with every fight to lift them.

Copia set you in the tub filled with warm water, he sat on the outside beside you, letting you enjoy the warmth as he grabbed your soap and shampoo.

“Eh, which would you prefer?” Copia showed you the two bottles in hand, “watermelon, of strawberry?”

His accent is so thick, no one speaks like copia does. Maybe that was another thing that made copia so much more special, he was one of a kind.

Nobody in the abbey walked, talked, or treated you with such tenderness like copia did. It wasn’t his position, or being the youngest, not even from having such clingy ghouls. Copia was naturally born with these qualities that made him a great man, leader, and even better; father.

It didn’t matter if he was blood or not, what did matter was his unconditional love for you that never faltered. Even when you had messed up, when you cried over the smallest things, when you scraped your knee, or if you ever got overstimulated or had an attack from anything of your past. Copia was there, always, when you needed him. His touch so tender and caring, his heart beat calming, his eyes full of love and his smile so bright.

It didn’t matter who or what was outside of copia embrace, because you knew you could trust him to protect you. A shield, a promise, a protector, and a loving home is what copia is.

“Alright dolce Stella, let’s get you dried.” He soothed your skin as you stepped out of the bath and into the cold air.

Copia stoped a shiver crawling down your spine as he quickly took your favorite towel and wrapped it around you. It was green and white, the pattern of a frog, it had a hood with a cute nose and two eyes up top.

“Feel better?” He rubs the fabric to you, bundling you up and leading you to the stool at the vanity.

“What beautiful locks!” Copia is enthusiastic about your hair, he always points out every detail about it, “my, my, must be a play date for the ghoulettes.”

“Secundo could never…” you joke, earning a rather loud chuckle from copia.

“Don’t forget to brush those toothers.” Copia reminds you, as he sets the brush down as he finishes your hair, handing you a tooth brush with sharks on it.

After you brush your teeth, copia swaddles you up and brings you to your ‘little’ wardrobe in his room.

“What wou-“ copia tried to speak but your attention is stolen by a pretty pattern of stars and planets that you blurt out, “that one!” You quickly grab the pajama set off the shelf and show papa like it’s a piece of art you just finished, and boy was papa proud

“You like your space pajamas don’t you dolce.” He says, sliding them onto you.

The man took you once more into his arms, bringing you back into his main room.

“Now, here’s your stuffy and your blanket.” Copia sets you under the covers of the bed, tucking you in with your stuffed frog and space themed blanket.

Copia takes the time to turn on your pillow pet, the lady bug one that casts an array of stars, galaxies, and planets across the ceiling.

“Papa” you grab at his hand as he leans away from the bed.

“Hm?” He brushes off any lent on the blanket.

“Story?” You ask, exhaustion kicking in again like the moon light is pure melatonin.

“Well of course bambino, I assume you want the same as last nights?” Copia reaches at the bookshelf across from the bed and under the TV.

You may of had a slight obsession with this one book series, and copia may of read it to you every night since it was your favorite. You couldn’t help it, it would send you straight to sleep.

“Hmm, how about this one?” He shows you one that has a different cover, but still the same art style and title.

You nod eagerly, relaxing back into the covers and pillows as copia sits beside you. He brings you to lay into the crook of his chest, his left arm resting around you.

“Comfy?” Copia asked before starting, licking his finger to open the book.

You nod once more, and so he begins

“Mr. Putter and his fine cat, Tabby, loved to sleep. They could sleep anywhere. They slept in chairs, in swings, in cars, in tubs, and sometimes in the laundry room!” Copia read with excitement, but a soft low voice that made your brain tingle.

As copia continued, you started zoning out, staring into the colorful drawings of the pages.

“It was a beautiful night. The moon was full, and moonlight was everywhere. Tabby looked. She listened. She twitched her ears. She twitched her tail.” Copia continues as your head falls back into his shoulder.

You feel your muscles relax, your shoulders and legs release tension.

‘Maybe I’ll let them rest’ is what you thought, letting your eye lids shut softly. A breathe exhaled through your nose, you faintly felt copia move to flip the page.

“Mr. Putter looked up at the sky,

He showed Tabby the stars and he told her all about them. He told her that the Blg Dipper was full of milk from the Milky Way. Tabby purred she loved milk.”

By now, you’re zoned out enough to not listen to him anymore. Your body takes in the feeling of copias body heat and soaks it up like a sponge.

You take it the softness of his voice and chest, the tickle of his hair on your forehead

“They told stories in the moonlight. They told secrets. They made each other laugh.”

Copia softly finished his line, glimpsing at your asleep form.

He softly slid out of your bed, careful not to wake you. He pulled the covers up to your neck, setting your frog in your arms.

He leaned in to kiss your forehead,

“goodnight bambino…I love you trillions.”

#serene sun nocontext #the band ghost #ghost band #serene sun writes #the band ghost x reader #copia fanfiction #copia #popia x reader #cardi c #papa iv x reader #cardinal copia x reader #copia x reader #copia x reader fluff

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five-oh-thirst · 1 month ago

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Relaxation

Prompt Day 26 (alt): "Self care is important."

Pairing: Fox/Thorn

Tags & Warnings: 18+, NSFW, blowjob, dom/sub, brief choking

Note: Fox needs to relax. Poor guy is always wound a little too tight. Good thing Thorn is there to lend a mouth hand.

Read on AO3

Thorn poked his head into Fox's dim office, and smiled. "There you are."

Fox didn't look up from his data-pad and only grunted in response at being disturbed.

Thorn sighed and entered the office. It was late, and he'd already taken his armor off for the night, walking around in just his blacks. Fox was halfway there, with the top of his armor removed, but the bottom half wasn't. "Whatever happened to coming to bed?"

"I said I'd be right there," Fox answered, his voice distant as he concentrated on his work.

Thorn glanced at the wall chronometer and raised an eyebrow. "That was two hours ago."

Fox sighed, still looking down at the illuminated data-pad. "What do you want?"

"I want you to come to bed," Thorn said. He sat on the edge of the desk adjacent to Fox.

Fox didn't pay him any attention. "I'm busy."

Thorn grabbed the data-pad out of his hands, forcing Fox to look at him. "You're always busy."

Fox huffed and reached for the data-pad. "I don't have time for your games."

"You need to relax," Thorn said. He placed the data-pad on the opposite side of the desk and then hopped off the edge to stand in front of Fox. Thorn couldn't help the smile that grew on his face as he placed both hands on the armests of the chair, caging Fox in. He leaned in close, just a hairsbreath away from Fox's lips. "Let me help you."

Fox leaned back and dodged the obvious attempt at a kiss. "I don't need your help."

"C'mon, Fox," Thorn whined. He changed up his tactics and dropped to his knees between Fox's legs, then smoothed his hands over the dark red thigh plates. "Self care is important."

Fox rolled his eyes but didn't put much effort into making Thorn stop. "How is this self care when you're the one taking care of me?"

"Because you're gonna let me," Thorn said. "And you're gonna like it." He kissed Fox's codpiece and then looked up at him with lustfilled eyes and a salacious grin.

"Maker, you're such a whore," Fox said, his voice breathy as his codpiece began to get a little too tight for comfort.

Thorn smirked. "Only for you." He unlatched the offending piece of armor off, revealing a damp bulge. "Looks kinda painful."

"Just hurry up and choke yourself on it," Fox hissed.

Thorn kissed the bulge, still covered by the blacks, then blew his hot breath over it, making Fox shiver. "So needy."

Fox leaned forward and grabbed Thorn by the throat, squeezing lightly. "Don't forget who's in charge." He released him just as quickly and used the same hand to pull his cock out of his blacks. "Now suck."

Thorn moaned. "I love it when you tell me what to do." He wrapped his lips around Fox's hard, weeping cock and took him into his throat all the way to the root without a single gag. He was well-practiced at his art.

Fox gasped in pleasure and tangled his hand in Thorn's blonde curls. "Good boy," he breathed. "Taking me–ah–so well." He tilted his hips forward to push his cock further down Thorn's throat. "My beautiful whore."

Thorn moaned around Fox's cock at the praise he received and the vibration made Fox throw his head back. He was going to come embarrassingly quickly. Maybe it had been too long since the last time he relaxed, and the fact that Thorn was right pissed him off. He didn't want that lauded over his head.

Fox tightened his grip in Thorn's hair and pulled him down onto his cock until his lips were pressed against his pubic bone and then held him there as he came. Thorn gagged, body lurching back at the sudden flood of cum, but Fox didn't let go. "Swallow," he ordered. "All of it. I don't want a mess."

Thorn did as he was told, eyes watering as he worked to drink every drop of Fox's hot cum and not let it overflow past his lips. When Fox's cock finally stopped twitching, Thorn pulled back and Fox released the death grip he had on his hair. Thorn titled his head side-to-side to stretch his neck muscles.

"Feel better?" he asked.

Fox reclined in his chair and groaned. "Yes."

Cozytober Masterlist

#fox/thorn #commander fox #commander thorn #cloneship #cloneshipping #cozytober 2024 #thirsty writes

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herrling · 1 month ago

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"You know..."

We've been sitting there, in the art room of the Purple House. It was empty by this time being, so we could afford ourselves some private time right now. Gregory has been working on the canvas while I sat beside him, talking about my day. For some reason, this time expressing my feelings to him was rather exhausting than usual, his indifferent face bringing out irritation from me rather than comfort.

"...Sometimes I wonder if you truly pay attention to me."

Violet stops his hand movement on the canvas and turns his face to me, his usually deadpan gaze now replaced with one of genuinely confused, like a kid told something he doesn't understands.

"What do you mean?"

For my already tensed nerves, his question sound annoyingly stupid along with his face. How the hell doesn't he understand?

"What do I mean? I mean that you actually don't care, do you?".

Gregory almost dropped his brush at my words. I pursed my lips in frustration, both mad at him and myself - at him for his reservedness and at me for losing my understanding.

Violet's thick eyelashes, usually resting in disinterest, now uncovered his shocked eyes.

"What... made you think so?"

I fisted my hands, holding on the edge of my black dress.

"You're just... Too calm... As if you just listen untill I eventually shut up and let you do whatever you're more interested in", - I blurted out, fighting the conflicts of not wanting to push my boyfriend and willing to express my worries just as they are. "Your face is always so... deadpan. I can't not think you're not interested."

Violet blinked in surprise.

"Darling, that is... not true."

He turns his whole body to me, reaching out to grab my hands. He sighs, the sound makes me feel instant guilt crawling under my skin.

"I'm sorry. I know I'm not the best when it comes to emotions and communication, and I'm really, really sorry if it looks like I don't care. Please... know that I do."

His fingers gently squeeze my palms. I look down on the floor, blaming myself for now upsetting him too, but feel his thumb rubbing my gand gently.

"No... it's me who should be sorry. I know you're not used to express emotions, I know you're just yourself, and... and still told you all of this stupid shit."

I frown in self-hatred. Gregory shifts his posture into one where he gets under my hung head, looking into my eyes with all sincerity.

"It's alright. I'm not mad or upset."

I bring myself to look at him, feeling comfort in his gentle gaze.

"I understand. It can be quite uneasy when you can't understand the emotions on your opponent's face, can't it?"

I nod in agreement.

"Sometimes I forget about it, love... I forget that it might be confusing to you when you rant and my expression doesn't change."

"And it's not like you need to control it..." - I cut him a little, squeezing his hands in return.

"Don't worry about it too much", - he lets go of one of my hands to fix the hair strand behind my ear. "I'm not going hard on myself, if you're worried about it. Now... what were you talking about earlier?"

I hesitate for a moment, sudden switch of topics and all of Violet's attention, along with his increased talkativeness, putting my thoughts into a whirlpool.

"I... I'm sorry", - is all I could mumble before trying to say something else. "I... I love your face, emotional or not. I love you the way you are... it's just..."

"It's alright, love. Really. I understand."

His hand touches my cheek gently, giving it a stroke.

"I'm not mad at you. Please, go on."

I push all the hesitation and negative thoughts away with force, concentrating on his voice and face. I sigh, shifting my thoughts into his question.

"So... um... today..."

#herr writes #self ship #f/o #gregory 💜#f/o community #self ship community #selfship #yumeship

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some-of-us-watch-the-sunset-too · 1 year ago

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hi i am re-entering into my outsiders era a bit so i have a lil request - the gang being friends w an art kid? like drawing and painting and sculpting and stuff

The boys with an art kid reader

A/N: i know the second req said hcs but i really wanted to write a little piece for this! also i’m in that mid-year phase where i want it to be christmas already so this is set at christmas. Y/N and Two-Bit are a bit of a thing cause i love two bit and i wanna write cute things with him so shush

Tags: fluff

Warnings: none!

It was Christmas eve at the Curtis house, the gang had a tradition of doing their gift-giving then rather than Christmas day so everyone could spend the day with their families, though they normally met up later in the day anyway. “Woah Y/N this is amazing!” ponyboy stared in awe of the bookmark y/n made for him with a sunset painted on it with watercolour. “I’m glad you like it.” Y/N gave Pony a warm smile and handed a bigger package to Darry. He opened it and smiled to himself. “A new baking bowl! just what i needed!” Soda laughed. “Grandma Dar and his baking.” Darry set the bowl down carefully far away from them so it wouldn’t get broken before pulling Sodapop into a headlock. “i won’t make you cookies no more then, see how you like that!” The two wrestled on the ground before Soda gave up. Y/N laughed and handed presents to the rest of the gang.

Johnny gasped when he opened his present. Dally looked over at him and could’ve sworn he was close to tears. “Y/N this is beautiful.” He looked at the small piece of paper in his hand. it was a pencil drawing of all the gang together, it was small enough to fit into a wallet, which y/n knew johnny carried around because all the gang had pitched in to buy it for his birthday. Y/N smiled but was interrupted before they could say anything by soda stomping his feet. Y/N had made him a watercolour painting of a horse, he recognised who it was right away. it was his horse, mickey mouse. “Y/N how did you get this!!” He was also close to tears but he was smiling from ear to ear. “well it’s a long story, yknow the way my parents own a ranch? well they somehow knew who bought mickey mouse all those years ago and i got in contact with them. i went to their ranch about 4 hours drive away. obviously i didn’t have the money to buy him off the rancher but i got a picture and painted it, that way you’ll always have him.” Y/N smiled. in reality mickey mouse had died about two years ago and that was just a picture the farmer had but Sodapop didn’t have to know that.

Dally opened his gift. “what is it?” Dally looked confused. Y/N laughed. “They’re fingerless gloves, crocheted. that way your hands might be slightly warmer than ice like they normally are, but you can still have full use of your hands cause let’s be honest the fingers are always annoying in gloves.” Dally smiled, he’d never admit it, but he appreciated the thought. “Y/N! This is so cool!” Y/N looked at him and smiled. Steve held up a sleeveless denim jacket with the back panel painted black with “you can’t handle the randle” painted on in big red letters and fire painted at the bottom. The front had little embroideries on it too. all things that meant something to Steve. “Glad you like it!”

“You’re so talented Y/N! But uh- where’s my present?” Two-Bit chuckled, he’d been surprisingly quiet up until now. Y/N gasped “Oh shit. i forgot your present.” They laughed about it and Y/N promised to give it to him the next day. After a while Two-Bit went out to the front porch to smoke a cigarette and Y/N followed him a few minutes later. Once they knew the two of them were alone they turned to Two-Bit. “I didn’t forget your present, i just wanted to give it to you away from the others.” They pulled a small box out of their pocket. it had red wrapping paper and black ribbon on it. Two-Bit took it from them and opened it carefully. Inside was a ring with ‘i love you’ engraved on the inside. On the outside intricate patterns were also engraved, but it didn’t look too busy or cluttered, just pretty and detailed. “i didn’t make this one, but i designed it” Two-Bit put it on and when he rubbed his thumb along the surface he realised it could spin. he played with it for a moment before Y/N spoke again. “it helps to calm you down or distract you when, y’know-” Two-Bit nodded. Y/N knew he struggled with anxiety, all the gang did to a degree, but he had it the worst by far. “it’s beautiful darlin, it really is. Thank you.” Two-Bit hugged Y/N before looking around to see if anyone was there. when he was sure there wasn’t he gave them a quick kiss. none of the boys knew about the two of them, and they don’t want any of them finding out this way. “Happy christmas my love.” Y/N whispered. “Happy christmas.” Two replied, smiling to himself.

#i love Two-Bit don’t you dare give out abt him being the love interest #the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #dallas winston #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #johnny cade #steve randle #two-bit mathews #dallas winston x reader #ponyboy x reader #johnny cade x reader #steve randle x reader #darry curtis x reader #sodapop x reader #two bit x reader #darry x reader #sodapop curtis x reader

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chuuyaspinkmotorcycle16 · 2 months ago

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Day 11: Banter/Bickering of @/Black00Cat's (twt) SKKtober

Words have never been Soukoku’s thing.

Well, that’s a little bit of a lie.

More like, words of sincerity have never been their thing.

The occasional concern comes out, asking if the other is okay, or the occasional fake speech, like being indelibly fated or something.

They could never afford to express worry for the other – a knife for an enemy.

So they made their own way.

And years of learning to wield their tongues like swords has led to honing their craft like an art.

When they were fifteen, it was simple.

Insults and ‘I hate you’s tossed so frequently and with so much vitriol they were believed.

The act wasn’t believable by the time they were sixteen and others – ahem, Kouyou and, rest in peace, Albatross – noticed them always hanging around each other despite ‘hating’ each other.

So they kept that part of the act but kept some distance between them. With their respective positions – higher-ups that controlled major financial areas of the mafia – their time together was already becoming limited. Add other friendships and time was hard to come by.

But it worked out. They still trusted each other enough to not let the other get killed, even if they told each other to do it during every mission. Their act was set in place perfectly.

And then ‘it’ happened…

They don’t talk about what happened when they were seventeen.

By the time they were eighteen, they only saw each other a handful of times in a day, brief encounters that had more to do with Executive duties than anything else. Then Chuuya went abroad and Dazai fled and Double Black was no more.

Chuuya did his best to forget about the other, how he knew every little thing Dazai meant when he spoke, how there were no secrets between the two with a trust so strong it was like they were one–

He couldn’t forget.

So when, four years later, the brunet shows up chained to the Port Mafia’s dungeon wall, it’s a test of many.

Of boundaries, of chances, of trust, of them…

“Still have terrible taste in hats, I see.”

“Still trying to kill yourself, I s’pose.”

A callback, a sign to show they haven’t changed as much as it seems.

Chuuya breaking the chains is more out of habit than anything. Dazai used to complain about how much effort it took to undo his handcuffs and Chuuya would do it to save time.

He honestly isn’t that surprised that the bastard still undid his own cuffs. It was a test of trust, after all, to see if Chuuya would even come.

But what kind of partner would Chuuya be if he didn’t come to see his masterpiece of a return gift?

Another callback, another test to see just how much four years had damaged their bond in the form of a fight.

Dazai still manages to block his blow like old times, even if the man still sucks at martial arts, and soon he places the ball back in Chuuya’s court.

Chuuya could have done it, could have sliced Dazai’s throat and been done with it, even if it meant getting executed himself. It would’ve made for a fucked-up double suicide.

But Dazai wouldn’t have shown his face if it wasn’t for something important.

So Chuuya aims for answers. They can solve whatever is between them later because right now, there’s soon to be another mafia member coming down the stairs to witness /the/ Dazai Osamu chained to the very walls he used to torture others on.

Once he has what he needs – and what position he plays in Dazai’s schemes – he lets the man go with only a nick to his ear for the trouble.

Chuuya’s shown his trust – minimal damage, giving confidential information, breaking those chains – and now Dazai pays him back.

Information of his own, giving the knife back, protecting Chuuya from being labeled a traitor.

Words of old from both of them.

Chuuya supposes the least he could do is play into Dazai’s delusions.

And when his rich-girl impression causes Dazai to genuinely laugh, that newfound light in his eyes glowing? It isn’t hard for Chuuya to believe that time hasn’t passed for them at all.

#soukoku #dazai x chuuya #skktober #skk #malaikawrites #day 11

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theskylarkin · 4 months ago

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KHOC Week Day 6 - Unique

What is special about them? That’s a touchy subject for Relai.

Art commissioned from @naab_ascanio on Instagram

Word Count: 1572

Content Warnings: Canon-typical violence

Relai had been so preoccupied with the weirdo wielding the blue and orange chainsword that she hadn’t noticed the other figure in black until it was too late.

The split second whoosh of something flying toward her was all the warning Relai got before she felt the sharp blade slice through the left side of her face. With a howl of pain, she dropped to her knees in agony, instinctively clutching the wound that burned as if whatever struck her had been coated in acid.

The pain only seemed to get worse as Relai heard the sharp click of footsteps approaching her. Looking up, Relai saw her assailant: a woman wearing the same black coat as the chainsword-wielder but with the hood removed, revealing her face. Her cold grey eyes regarded Relai with frigid contempt as she readied the strange weapon in her hands—two small scythes attached together by a red chain—ready to deliver the killing blow…

~ * ~ * ~

Mariss and Relai were identical twins, not that you’d know it now. Even before Mariss came out as nonbinary, they’d slowly been distancing themselves from Relai. The two of them barely even spoke to each other anymore when Uncle Mundi and Aunt Anima weren’t around.

Relai could recall their last real conversation, one sided as it was. Mariss had knocked on her open door one night as Relai was working on a poster design for 971zR’s next gig (as Joslyn was busy with college stuff). “Hey, Relai,” Mariss asked in a small voice, “do you think Mom and Dad would’ve been okay with me? You know, being non-binary?”

“Of course they would, don’t be stupid!” Relai snapped back, not even looking up from her desk. Mariss didn’t respond but eventually Relai heard the shuffle of their feet as they walked across the hallway to their own bedroom. She refused to feel bad about it; if Mariss didn’t try so hard to forget everything about Radiant Garden over the past four years, they’d already know what a dumb question that was.

If her twin was going to push her away out of embarrassment, then Relai was going to make sure she wasn’t like Mariss at all. They were smart, capable, and doing great in school? Relai dropped out after realizing how pointless it all was. They were having fun with their dorky bot fighting team? Relai was friends with cool adults who were creating meaningful art instead of riding the coattails of some capitalist jerk.

They were thriving in San Fransokyo while pretending their life in Radiant Garden never existed? Then Relai was going to carry those memories of where she came from, no matter how miserable they made her sometimes.

Relai hadn’t been thinking about her twin at all as she walked back home from Jos and Woo-Jin’s place late one night. The two college students tried to call her a R1de but she insisted that she could walk home herself (they could be such adults sometimes!) and beat up anyone who tried anything. In her frustration, Relai hadn’t noticed the figure following her until they cornered her in a dark alleyway.

“So, that’s where you’ve been sneaking off to.” Mariss had just gotten out of bot fighting practice by the look of things, as they were slightly out of breath from hauling the wheeled hard case carrying their drones behind them. “Did you seriously think that no one would notice that you haven’t been to school for months?” they asked snidely.

Relai was about to loudly feign astonishment that Mariss cared enough to notice but her twin cut her off. “What the heck is wrong with you? What would Mom and Dad think?”

“Don’t you dare bring Mom and Dad into this!” Relai shouted at them, stomping forward to stare Mariss down. “Why do you even care about me when you’re too busy hanging out with your new friends anyway? It’s my life and I can do what I want!”

When they were younger, Mariss would’ve backed off but they’d evidently grown enough of a spine to stand their ground against Relai when she wasn’t looking. “Why don’t you think about someone other than yourself for once! Don’t you realize what’ll happen once the school figures out you’ve stopped attending? They’ll start asking questions about Aunt Anima and Uncle Mundi, and if they do any serious background checks they’ll figure out that all of our identification paperwork is fake because we’re not from this world! Our aunt and uncle could’ve lost their their jobs if I hadn’t been covering for you!”

Relai started. Mariss had been covering for them this whole time? No, they’d only done it because it would’ve hurt their own reputation if people found out. She looked over at the case next to her twin, impassively wondering what would happen if she just grabbed Mariss’ precious drones and hurled them with all her strength into the dumpster beside her…

“Argh!” Mariss screamed in frustration, fists clenched. “Why are you like this, Relai!? Sometimes I wish that—” They froze mid sentence, eyes widening and one hand clasped over their mouth.

“You wish what, Mariss?” Relai rounded on them, forcing them to take a step back. “What’s you wish, Mariss? Huh? Huh!? Because I—”

A loud explosion in the adjacent alleyway cut her off. Mariss and Relai stood there, looking at each other in shock and confusion, until Relai brushed past her twin to check out the source of the disturbance.

Relai’s first thought upon turning the corner to find a blond girl about her age in a black and gold dress fighting a figure of similar stature in a hooded black coat with a chainsaw shaped like a sword (Chainsword? Chainsword.) was, ‘Hey, she’s kinda cute.’ Her second thought was, ‘Wait, is that a keyblade?’

The white and gold weapon in the girl’s hands was undeniably key-shaped as she raised it up to block another swing from the chainsword wielder. However, the force of the blow sent her flying back into the brick wall behind her. She slumped down, dazed or possibly knocked out, as her attacker approached with chainsword raised.

“Hey, you!” The figure in black, hood pulled up so that Relai couldn’t see their face at all, turned their head just in time to catch a metal knuckle right below their chin (or at least where their chin ought to be). Relai was rushing towards them, preparing to kick the weapon out of their reach as they fell backwards, until the woman with the chain scythes attacked.

~ * ~ * ~

Out of nowhere, a holographic blue wall of hard light manifested in front of Relai, cutting her attacker off. Relai looked up to see two of Mariss’ drones projecting the barrier, with another blocking the chainsword wielder from the blond girl, who was rising unsteadily to her feet.

“Leave them alone!” Relai had never seen Mariss so angry, even when they’d been yelling at her moments ago. They were practically quivering with rage as they walked over to Relai, face set in a determined scowl as they locked eyes with the woman who’d hurt their twin.

Off to the side, the shorter figure in black raised their chainsword to test the barrier in front of them, then leapt back as the electrical pulse the drones sent through the field surged through them the second the weapon made contact with it.

At the same time, the grey-eyed woman took a step forward. “Thunder!” Mariss yelled hoarsely and she stopped in her tracks as the bolt of lightning impacted the ground in front of her. “I-if you don’t leave now, I…I won’t miss next time!” Mariss declared even as their voice shook.

The woman regarded Mariss impassively, but motioned to her companion before the two of them disappeared into the darkness.

As Mariss’ drones powered down and the forcefields lifted, a strange sadness swept over Relai. She’d always been the one who protected Mariss, not the other way around.

“What were you thinking, Relai!? You could’ve been killed!” Mariss was shaking like a leaf even as they yelled at Relai, furiously brushing away tears from their eyes. Still a crybaby, then, but a crybaby that didn’t need their twin anymore. If there were tears in Relai’s eyes, they were from the gash in her face that was only growing more painful as time went on.

“You both could’ve been killed,” snapped a new voice. Relai watched as the blond girl walked over, stopping right in front of Relai and pointing the tip of her keyblade at her cheek. “Esuna,” she said and Relai immediately felt the burning sensation in her face die out. “I’ve cured the poison but that woman’s blades have a corrosive effect that will leave a scar I can’t heal. So please leave those villains to me.”

“The proper thing to say is, “Thank you Mariss and Relai for saving me”!” Relai retorted as she stood up. Moving her hand from her face, she gazed at her reflection in the dark glass of a storefront window. True to her word, there was a lingering vertical scar that began just below her left eye and continued down to her neck. It wasn’t anything that Relai couldn’t hide without makeup, but maybe she didn’t want to.

The scar looked pretty badass, actually. And it was something that made sure her and Mariss would never be mistaken for each other ever again.

@khoc-week

#khocweek2024 #khoc week #khoc #kh oc #kingdom hearts oc #Original Characters #Long Post #Fanfiction #Scala Survivors AU #OC: Relai #OC: Mariss #OC: Sigyn #Oh hey look some plot actually happens in this one #Commissioned Art #Wilderness Era

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