#nothing brings a person out of their shell then a chance to | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

heliosunny · 2 months ago

Note

Could I please request yandere lucky egg for zhongli or capitano? (Capitano plsssssssssssssss)

LUCKY EGG

Yandere!Capitano x Reader

You stared at the unmoving egg in your hands, brows furrowed.

It had been three days. Three days of waiting, watching, and even whispering to it—just in case. But nothing. No signs of life, no cracks, not even a single wobble.

“…Maybe it’s just a weird rock?”

Still, your curiosity refused to let you throw it away. It was heavy, warm, and honestly, something about it unsettled you. But that wasn’t going to stop you from testing a theory.

So, with the kind of logic only sheer boredom could provide, you set up a pan, turned on the heat, and carefully placed the egg in.

The moment the pan got hot, the egg shuddered.

You barely had time to register that before a deep crack split the shell.

“Oh, fu—”

BOOM

A sudden explosion of dark energy sent you flying back, only for something much heavier to crash directly on top of you. You gasped as your back hit the floor, and a wave of heat radiated from the figure pinning you down.

Blinking through the daze, you found yourself staring up at a man—tall, broad, and very much not an egg.

“You… were trying to cook me?”

Instead of replying, you asked him multiple questions.

"Who are you?"

"Where did you come from?"

"Why were you in an egg?"

But all you got were vague, unsettling responses.

"I don't remember much" he admitted, adjusting the gloves on his hands. "Only that I was waiting... for you."

That didn't make you feel any less concerned.

After some back and forth—mostly you trying to make sense of things while he kept staring at you like you hung the stars—you decided he needed a bath. He was covered in remnants of whatever strange energy surrounded him when he hatched, and honestly, you needed a moment to process everything.

You directed him to the bath and handed him a towel and some spare clothes.

"You wish for me to cleanse myself?"

"Uh, yeah? Unless you want to keep smelling like a burnt egg."

"As you wish."

When he finally emerged from the bathroom, steam trailing behind him. His wet hair clung to his skin, and the loose clothing you lent him only made him look more dangerous, less armored but no less imposing.

However, your eyes quickly caught on to something—his hand. A fresh wound, jagged and slightly bleeding, marred his palm.

"Wait, you're hurt."

Before he could react, you grabbed a first-aid kit and motioned for him to sit. He obeyed surprisingly easily.

"You shouldn’t ignore injuries, you know." you muttered, wrapping the bandage snugly around his hand.

The entire time, he didn't flinch. If anything, his focus was solely on you.

"You care for me"

"Yeah, well, you did just hatch out of an egg in my kitchen."

As you finished bandaging his hand, your gaze drifted to his long, damp hair. It cascaded over his shoulders in dark waves.

"You should tie your hair up" you suggested, reaching for a hair tie. "It'll get in the way otherwise."

He studied you for a moment before giving a nod.

You weren’t expecting him to be so agreeable, but you took the chance to gather his hair and carefully tie it back.

Once done, you stepped back, admiring your work. "There. Much better."

He lifted a hand to touch his tied hair, then let out a hum of approval. "I’ll allow you to tend to me as you see fit."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, yeah, lucky me."

But deep down, you weren’t sure if bringing another person into your life was a good idea. Your job already kept you busy enough, and now you had to deal with… him.

For now, though, you decided he could stay. At least until you figured out what exactly he was.

Pulling out your phone, you quickly texted your best friend, Jollie.

You: Hey, uh… I just hatched a grown man from an egg.

Jollie’s reply was almost instant.

Jollie: I’m sorry, what.

You: Long story. He’s got long hair, and I tied it up, but you’d probably do a better job. Wanna come over later?

Jollie: I’m dropping everything. Be there soon.

You sighed, pocketing your phone. You had no idea how you were going to explain this, but at least you wouldn’t be dealing with it alone.

An hour later, Jollie arrived, practically bursting through the door.

"Alright, where’s the egg-man?" she demanded, hands on her hips.

You gestured toward Capitano, who sat stiffly in a chair, watching her with unwavering intensity. He had barely moved since you last spoke.

"Huh. Wasn't expecting him to be this tall."

"Yeah, well, try convincing him to let you cut his hair."

Jollie smirked and pulled out her scissors. "No problem. I deal with stubborn warriors all the time."

The moment she stepped closer, however, Capitano’s demeanor shifted. His eyes darkened, and his presence became suffocating. He didn’t move, but the threat was clear.

Jollie froze mid-step. "...Okay, never mind. Not a fan of personal space being invaded. Got it."

"Capitano-that's what he called himself-, she’s just going to clean up your hair." you said

His gaze flickered to you, and after a long pause, he finally relented. "...Fine."

Jollie sighed in relief and got to work, carefully trimming the ends to keep it neat without taking too much off. But the real shock came when she snipped a slightly longer piece—only for it to immediately grow back.

You gawked. "Wait, what?"

Jollie stepped back, staring at the scissors like they betrayed her. "Well, that’s new."

Capitano, completely unfazed, turned his attention back to you. "I prefer it when you tie my hair."

"...That doesn’t explain why it grew back instantly!"

"It just does."

Jollie let out a whistle. "Man, if I had hair like that, I’d never have to worry about bad hair days."

While she finished up, Capitano’s sharp eyes suddenly landed on the ring on her hand. He studied it for a moment before speaking.

"What is that?" He motioned toward the ring. "And where can I get one?"

Jollie blinked, then laughed. "This? It’s a wedding ring. It means I’m married."

Capitano turned to you, "...And if I wanted one?"

"What—"

Jollie smirked, already sensing way too much in his tone. "Oh? Thinking of proposing already?"

Capitano didn’t answer. He just kept his gaze on you, as if calculating something.

You groaned, covering your face. "I should’ve left you in the egg."

---

Being a chef meant you spent most of your time in the kitchen, away from the bustling tavern floor. You only stepped out when a guest specifically asked to meet the person behind their meal. Over time, you’d gathered a few fans—regulars who praised your cooking a little too enthusiastically. It was flattering, sure, but you never thought much of it.

Capitano, however, did.

You had insisted he stay home, especially since he still didn’t fully understand how things worked around here. But come evening, when Jollie arrived to pick you up after your shift, Capitano had tagged along.

A small group of guests had gathered around you near the kitchen entrance. One leaned a little too close, complimenting your skills with an almost flirtatious edge.

"You know, if you ever get tired of cooking here, I’d love to have a personal chef like you"

Another chimed in. "Seriously, your food alone is worth traveling back for. But the chef themself? Even better."

You laughed, waving off the comments. "Alright, alright, I get it. You like my food. Now eat before it gets cold."

That was when you felt it—an oppressive weight in the air.

Capitano was watching.

Jollie was the first to notice,"Uh, you might wanna do something before he commits a crime."

You turned just in time to see him striding forward.

The guests, oblivious to who exactly he was, paused as he loomed behind you.

Capitano's hand suddenly found your waist, pulling you firmly against him.

"You belong to me."

Jollie sighed, already sensing the storm brewing. "Welp. That’s my cue to drag him out before he starts growling."

The moment you stepped outside the tavern, Capitano was still brooding. His grip on your wrist hadn’t loosened since he practically dragged you away from the guests.

Jollie, walking beside you, let out an exhausted sigh. “You have to do something about him, or one day, we’re gonna find your guests mysteriously missing.”

“Alright, what the hell was that?”

“They were too close.”

“That’s not a crime, Capitano. People like my food. That’s it.”

“They like you.”

“Oh, wow, what a shocking revelation. People like the person who feeds them.” You yanked your wrist free and turned to face him fully. “Listen, I cannot have you acting like that in my workplace.”

“I work in the kitchen. That means I only come out when needed. If people start thinking I have some jealous, looming bodyguard around, it’s gonna ruin everything. What if my boss bans me from interacting with guests? What if people stop coming?”

You didn't finish.

“And if that happens? We starve. I lose my job, I can’t buy food, and you can’t mooch off my cooking anymore.”

For once, that actually made him pause.

Jollie snickered. “You should’ve just led with that. Man eats like he’s preparing for war.”

You crossed your arms. “So? Are you gonna stop being like that?”

“...I don’t like them looking at you.”

“You don’t have to like it. You just have to tolerate it.”

“…Fine.”

Jollie gave you an impressed nod. “Damn. You actually tamed him.”

“Let’s just get home before he finds something else to be mad about.”

That night, as always, Capitano laid beside you, his hand firmly clasped around yours. You had no idea why he insisted on holding your hand in his sleep, but the few times you tried to pull away, he would stir, grip tightening as if you were the only thing anchoring him. Eventually, you just gave up and let it happen.

Jollie, of course, was horrified when she found out.

“You what?” she practically screeched when you mentioned it the next morning.

“It’s not like that! He just—he won’t sleep unless I’m there.”

Jollie gave you the most skeptical look. “Oh sure, totally normal. Just a grown man who hatched from an egg refusing to sleep unless he’s holding your hand.”

“I tried to sleep separately, but he wouldn’t let go.”

Jollie sighed, shaking her head. “This guy is down bad.”

You ignored her teasing, but you did realize something—Capitano still didn’t have proper clothes. Up until now, you’d just been giving him whatever you could gather—old clothes from friends, random pieces from your closet. He didn’t seem to care what he wore, but still, you figured it was time to fix that.

So, on your next free day, you took him shopping.

The marketplace was lively, filled with stalls of various goods, but you were focused on getting Capitano real clothes. You led him to a clothing stall, where a gorgeous woman greeted you with a warm smile.

“Welcome! Looking for something specific?”

You paused, briefly stunned. Wow. She’s hot.

You glanced at Capitano, then back at the woman. Wait. Wouldn’t they look good together?

Grinning, you nudged him. “Hey… you like her, huh?”

He said nothing. Didn’t even glance her way. Instead, he just stood there, waiting.

“Wow. Tough crowd.”

Shrugging, you began picking out clothes for him. Every time you held something up, he took it without complaint and changed into it. You threw jackets, shirts, pants at him, fully expecting him to reject something—but he wore everything you recommended without hesitation.

The shopkeeper laughed. “Most guys are picky, but he’s letting you dress him up like a doll.”

“You’re really just gonna wear whatever I tell you to?”

“If it pleases you.”

After a long shopping trip, you finally settled on a decent outfit for Capitano. A dark coat with fitted sleeves, a high-collared shirt, and well-tailored pants—it suited him.

You gave him a once-over. “Huh. You actually look… handsome, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Don’t push it.”

With that done, you figured things would return to normal—well, as normal as they could be with an egg-man living in your home. But something kept nagging at you.

His wound.

Ever since you first bandaged his hand, it hadn’t healed. You had to change the bandages often, and while he never complained, it was weird. Even small cuts should’ve at least started closing by now.

As you carefully replaced the bandage that evening, you frowned. “This should be gone by now.”

“It does not pain me.”

“That’s not the point. Why isn’t it healing?”

He was silent for a long moment before murmuring, “I don’t know.”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t remember.”

Something about the way he said it made you question if that was true—or if he was just refusing to tell you.

----

At first, having an intern wasn’t so bad. Lirienne was quick to learn, efficient, and didn’t need much guidance. You figured training her would be easy—maybe even helpful in the long run.

What you didn’t know was that she had other plans.

She wasn’t here to assist you. She wanted to replace you.

Of course, you didn’t notice at first. You were busy keeping the kitchen running, ensuring everything was perfect. But Capitano? He noticed.

He had already become your unofficial shadow, lingering around the kitchen even when he wasn’t supposed to.

And that’s how he caught on.

“Lirienne, be more careful next time. If I hadn’t caught that in time, the dish would’ve been ruined.”

She bowed her head slightly, expression apologetic. “I’m so sorry! I don’t know how that happened. It won’t happen again.”

You sighed, waving it off. “It’s fine, just focus.”

Lirienne was careful, never making obvious mistakes, but Capitano saw the small things. Ingredients placed too close to the fire. Unstable stacks of plates positioned near the edge of counters. Subtle miscalculations in orders that could be blamed on you.

She was setting you up.

And though you remained oblivious, Capitano was already planning how to deal with her.

“She’s setting you up.”

You paused mid-motion, turning to him. “What?”

“The intern.” His voice was certain. “She’s creating accidents and letting you take the blame.”

“That’s ridiculous. Why would she—”

“To take your place.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the way he looked at you made you hesitate. Capitano wasn’t the type to make baseless accusations.

“Do you trust me?”

Capitano had been by your side since the day he hatched. He didn’t lie. If he said something, he meant it.

“…Yes” you admitted.

“Then be careful.”

You wanted to believe Lirienne was just clumsy. That she was just adjusting to the kitchen.

But if Capitano was right, then this was only the beginning.

Days passed, and despite Capitano’s warning, you tried to convince yourself that things weren’t that bad. Sure, Lirienne was suspicious, but outright trying to sabotage you? Maybe Capitano was being overprotective.

That illusion shattered the night you were walking home.

The streets were quieter than usual, the distant hum of taverns and late-night chatter fading as you took your usual route. You were halfway there when two men stepped out of a nearby alley, blocking your path.

You stopped “Can I help you?”

They didn’t answer. One of them took a slow step forward, cracking his knuckles.

“You’re the chef from that tavern, yeah?”

You took a cautious step back, but before you could turn, they lunged.

And then—a blur of movement. A rush of wind.

The next thing you knew, a broom had swung through the air, slamming into one of the men’s heads with enough force to send him stumbling. The second man barely had time to react before Capitano spun the broom in his hands like a trained weapon, jabbing the handle hard into his stomach. The man doubled over with a wheeze before Capitano kicked him to the ground.

The first guy tried to reach for a hidden knife. Capitano didn’t give him the chance. With a sharp twirl, the broom’s bristles smacked him across the face, sending him crashing onto the pavement.

“Are you hurt?”

“You—with a broom?”

He looked down at the slightly crooked handle, then back at you. “It was within reach.”

These guys weren’t random muggers. They knew who you were.

And if Capitano hadn’t been here…

Capitano didn’t need to hear you say it—he knew what you were thinking. He could see it in the way your hands clenched, in the furrow of your brow.

You were worried. And that was unacceptable.

So, while you slept that night, completely unaware, Capitano made his move.

Stalking wasn’t new to him. Tracking someone’s habits, their movements, their weaknesses—it was as natural to him as breathing. Lirienne was no different. She was arrogant, thinking she could eliminate you without consequences.

Getting into her home was easy. He could’ve ended it right then and there. But that wasn’t enough. No, she needed to suffer.

So he made it look like a robbery. Tossed her belongings, shattered a few things. Let her wake up to a scene of chaos before he moved to the next step.

Her close friends—anyone she might rely on—received anonymous threats. Carefully crafted blackmail, things that made them too scared to associate with her.

By the time Lirienne realized she was being hunted, it was too late. Capitano had already buried her in paranoia.

With Lirienne gone, things returned to normal—or at least, as normal as they could be. Your worries faded, and you could finally focus on your job without looking over your shoulder.

One evening, after a long shift, you decided to take Capitano out for a drink. It had been a while since you both relaxed.

But when you got home, you found him asleep on the couch, the dim glow of the TV flickering across his face.

You sighed, shaking your head fondly. Big scary man, knocked out on the couch like a cat in a sunbeam.

Grabbing the remote, you turned off the TV. At first, you thought you imagined it. But then he mumbled again, voice low, almost pained.

“Don’t… leave…”

You crouched beside him, watching as his brows furrowed ever so slightly. His breathing was steady, but his body was tense—like even in his sleep, he was holding onto something.

You hesitated before reaching out, placing a hand on his. His grip relaxed slightly, and his shoulders eased.

You swallowed. Maybe… taking him out for a drink could wait.

You stayed crouched beside him, watching his sleeping face, his quiet breaths filling the silence.

Then, just as you were about to pull your hand away—

“…Failed… again…”

Failed? Again?

That—didn’t sound like something he would say. Capitano wasn’t the type to speak of failure. He carried himself with unwavering confidence, like a man who never wavered.

So what was he dreaming about?

Your thoughts were cut short as his breathing shifted, deeper now, heavier. His fingers twitched again before his eyes fluttered open.

For a moment, he just stared at the ceiling. Then, slowly, his gaze drifted to you.

“…You’re awake”

“You’re still here.”

“Where else would I be?” you scoffed lightly, trying to shake the strange feeling. “C’mon, you’re sleeping on the couch again. Let’s get you to bed.”

As you led him to the bedroom, you couldn’t help but glance back at him.

Failed again.

Failed what?

The words lingered in your mind long after Capitano had fallen asleep again, this time properly in bed. You sat on the edge, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest, trying to piece together what it meant.

Capitano had no memories of his past—at least, that’s what he claimed. But sometimes, things slipped through the cracks. Little moments, little murmurs. You hadn’t questioned them before, thinking they were just remnants of something long gone.

But now?

You couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling in your gut.

Had he been someone before? Was there something he wasn’t telling you—or worse, something he didn’t even remember himself?

Carefully, you reached out, tracing your fingers over his bandaged hand. The wound that never healed. Another mystery.

Maybe it was time to start looking for answers.

The next morning, you woke up with Capitano’s hand still in yours. At some point in the night, he had shifted closer.

You needed answers.

But where would you even start?

Capitano didn’t remember much—or at least, that’s what he said. And you doubted he would suddenly recall everything if you just asked him outright. But there had to be something to go off.

The wound that wouldn’t heal. The way his hair grew back instantly. The strange strength and reflexes he showed when he fought off those men. Even the way he had hatched from that egg instead of being born normally—everything about him was unnatural.

And yet, he didn’t seem concerned about it.

You exhaled, slowly slipping your hand from his. As much as you wanted to shake him awake and demand answers, you knew that wasn’t going to work.

So instead, you would do what you did best—observe.

That day, you started paying closer attention.

You watched how Capitano moved, how he interacted with the world around him. He didn’t seem lost or confused like someone who had lost their memory—he carried himself with the confidence of a man who knew who he was.

But sometimes, little things slipped.

Like how he instinctively reached for a weapon he didn’t have when startled. Or how he watched battles with an almost detached familiarity, as if he had seen a thousand of them before.

And then there was the way he spoke.

You had never really thought about it before, but Capitano’s words—his mannerisms—felt old. Like he wasn’t just from another place, but another time.

You couldn’t ignore it anymore.

That evening, as you bandaged his hand yet again, you finally spoke.

“…What do you think you failed at?”

His eyes met yours. “What?”

You hesitated, but there was no point in backing down now. “You said something in your sleep. Failed again.”

His grip on the edge of the table tightened slightly. “…I don’t remember.”

“Capitano,” you murmured, tightening the last part of the bandage. “If there’s something I should know, just tell me.”

“…If I had failed, would you leave me?”

“What?”

“If I was a failure,” he repeated, voice quieter this time, “would you still stay?”

You didn’t know what he had failed at—what his past even was. But looking at him now, waiting for your answer like it mattered more than anything, you knew one thing for sure.

“…You’re not a failure to me.”

“…Then that’s enough.”

It wasn’t the answer you wanted. It didn’t explain anything. But for now, it was all he was willing to give.

-----

The moment you got the news, everything around you blurred into nothing.

Jollie was dead.

You didn’t remember how you got home. Your feet carried you there, but your mind wasn’t present. The words repeated in your head over and over, but they refused to make sense. She was just here. She was supposed to visit soon. We were supposed to talk again. She can’t be...

You locked the door behind you and didn’t leave.

You ignored your phone, the messages piling up, the calls that went unanswered. Eating, working, even moving—none of it mattered. The weight in your chest was suffocating, pressing down until you couldn’t breathe.

The kitchen felt cold. The thought of stepping inside, of cooking anything, felt wrong. Jollie had been the one person who always demanded a taste test, who teased you about your "serious chef face" while you worked. Without her, even your passion felt empty.

Capitano stayed.

He didn’t leave your side, not even once. He didn’t force you to talk, didn’t try to shake you out of it. He just remained—a quiet, unmoving figure watching over you.

Even when you curled up in bed, staring blankly at the wall, he was there. When you sat at the table without touching your food, he stood nearby. And when the grief finally cracked, when the tears came without warning, his hand found yours, firm and grounding.

Jollie was gone. And you didn’t know how to move forward.

Capitano had never been one to sit idly by.

Watching you waste away in your grief, locked inside, refusing to eat, to move—it was unacceptable. If you couldn’t pull yourself out of it, then he would do it for you.

And that meant finding the truth.

Jollie’s death wasn’t random. Capitano could feel it in his bones—there was something off about it.

His first step was gathering information. People talked, especially when they thought no one important was listening. Capitano stalked the streets at night, blending into the shadows, eavesdropping in places you wouldn’t dare step foot in.

And soon enough, the pieces started falling into place.

Jollie’s husband.

A man drowning in debt. A man who had more than one mistress tucked away in secret corners of the city. A man who had everything to lose if Jollie ever decided to leave him and take what little wealth they had left.

Capitano dug deeper.

The debts weren’t small. The lenders he owed money to weren’t the forgiving type. If he didn’t pay, he wouldn’t live long enough to see another day.

And then, there it was—the final piece. Capitano uncovered the exchange. The bribe. The order.

Jollie’s husband had arranged it himself. Paid to have her eliminated.

Once Capitano had everything he needed, he didn’t act immediately. No—he brought you with him.

You had resisted at first, still drained, still lost in your grief. But he didn’t give you a choice. He made you come, guiding you through the dark streets until you arrived at a secluded meeting spot.

There, Jollie’s husband was waiting.

The proof was laid out before you. The debts. The mistresses. The transaction. Everything that led to Jollie’s death.

You could hardly breathe.

“You decide” Capitano told you, “What happens to him?”

You wanted to hate him. Wanted to scream, to lash out. But in the end, you couldn’t bring yourself to be cruel.

“…Just turn him in” you whispered. “Let the authorities deal with him.”

Capitano stared at you for a long moment before nodding. Without another word, he took you home.

You thought it was over. You thought you had done the right thing, made the right choice.

But Capitano knew better.

Men like Jollie’s husband didn’t deserve mercy.

And so, later that night, without your knowledge, Capitano paid him a final visit.

By morning, Jollie’s husband was gone. No one would ever find the body.

And you?

You would never know.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you could breathe again.

Jollie was gone, and that pain would never truly fade—but knowing the truth, knowing she was free from the man who betrayed her, brought a strange sense of peace.

Capitano stood beside you. He had done more than just watch over you—he had acted. He had carried you through your darkest moment without hesitation.

And as the weight on your chest finally lightened, Capitano made a silent vow to himself.

From this day forward, he would stay by your side. To protect you. To ensure your happiness. To be the one constant you could rely on.

Jollie may have left a void, but Capitano would make sure you were never alone again.

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin x reader #capitano #il capitano #capitano x reader #capitano x you #heliosluckyegg

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kurikive · 11 months ago

Text

CASUAL | danielle marsh.

— "is it casual now?"

6thmember!reader, situationship/fwb but nothing sexual, angst, fluff at the end i promise, dani swears, reader is a (closeted) lesbian, reader is horrible at reading people, written in 2nd person, they work it out on the remix

warnings : A LOT of internalized homophobia !! reader refers to herself multiple times as a predator but it's just from fear and insecurity, nothing actually predatory is happening in the story. extremely brief mentions of starvation

wc: 5.4k words

inspired by: Casual — Chappell Roan

you and danielle marsh are friends. more than co-workers, you're friends. although you don't have that much in common except for your age, it was easy to adapt to the harsh environment of the k-pop industry's training system with someone like danielle by your side.

she's always been a ray of sunshine in everyone's lives, you're not the exception. if you were in a bad mood, tired from waking up in the early morning everyday, worked to the point of exhaustion, danielle would be there rubbing your shoulders and saying something sweet like

"you're doing great, y/n! keep up!"

and then you'd smile at her, and she'd smile back, and you'd feel so much better, thanks to danielle.

you didn't have many interests in common. music taste, fashion sense, movie picks, food preferences, personality types, if anything you were almost her complete opposite. and yet, she sat in your bed every night while you scrolled on your phone, talking for hours until it the clock hits midnight and she goes back to her room.

danielle did most of the talking, and you carefully listened to everything she said. the enthusiasm in which she enunciated all her words was endearing to listen to, and it couldn't not bring a smile out of you. the girl never forgot to give you your chance to speak too, trying to get to know you better everyday.

there was one thing she could not know, however. that you're a lesbian.

if it was hard enough being gay in korea, it was ten times harder when you were about to debut in a girl group, in one of the biggest companies in the industry at the moment nonetheless.

there were times where the members would all gather and have girl talks, talking about things like movies, celebrity crushes, past boyfriends and all that stuff, and you felt left out every single time.

sometimes it's more a curse than a blessing that danielle notices everything, because when she asks, "who's your celebrity crush, y/n?", "what do you look for in a boy, y/n?", "have you ever had a boyfriend, y/n?", you never know how you're supposed to respond.

it wasn't safe. it'll never be safe.

you've known the girls for almost a year and there has never been an indication of the way they felt about the LGBTQ+ community. hanni was your safest bet, she seemed the most open minded, but then again you can never be sure.

they were all so painfully straight.

so you try your best to answer vaguely,

"i don't know.", "i'm not sure, i don't really think about that." they complain a little about your mysteriousness, but it doesn't take long for them to let it go and move on.

you don't know how long you have to keep pretending you're not sure. you are sure.

you like girls.

you don't want to keep pretending you don't. but how would they feel?.

they'd feel unsafe, uncomfortable, scared, exposed to a threat, a possibility of being prey to a predator, a little voice in your head tells you.

but you're not. you're not a predator. they know you're not a predator. you'd never do anything to hurt them, or make them uncomfortable.

so you keep pretending. but the shell is starting to crack, and a knot in your throat gets tighter everytime you hear your members ask "is he your type?".

your debut is only a couple months away. you pray to god hanni has noticed by now. she's your roommate after all.

you start playing some specific songs without your headphones in hopes she walks by or enters the room and notices. you hope she's the one that asks. but she doesn't, she never mentions the songs, ever.

so you move on to movies and shows.

when she catches you watching heartbreak high in the living room TV, she only says "oh they're aussies, right?"

when she sees you watching heartstopper on your phone while eating dinner she just says, "kit connor is soooo handsome."

she doesn't mention it when she goes into your room and you're playing but i'm a cheerleader on your laptop. but hanni has caught on.

and the next time she goes into your shared room, she closes the door behind her. you're in your bed, and you're staring at each other, both of your eyes shine with nervousness.

"can i ask you something?" she says from the door, so shakily you start fearing she's not going to take it like you wish she would.

"sure." you didn't mean for your voice to come out as quiet as it did.

it's a nerve-wracking couple of seconds watching hanni take a seat in her own bed and face you. she takes a big breath before asking, "do you- no, sorry. are you... gay?"

yes, yes, yes. i am a lesbian. i like girls. you want to scream, but the realization of reality strangles you and your throat feels so tight, and you can't say anything.

"it's not like there's anything wrong about it, i'm just... asking." she tries. you can tell she's trying. it's sweet that she's trying.

"yes." it's a struggle to get it out, and your heart starts racing, but just being able to feels like such a relief that you might start crying. but then fear washes down on you again when you can't read hanni, at all.

"i'm really sorry, hanni. i promise i'm not weird or predatory or anything, i would never try to make you uncomfortable and i'm sorry if i ever did. i promise i don't like you like that, not that you're not attractive or anything, that's not what i mean at all. i just- i would never like you like that, you're like my sister and i promise that i'm still the same y/n you met, i really hope this doesn't change anything in our-" she cuts off your rambled apology-slash-explanation with a hug.

"it doesn't. i promise." it hits you now, just now, that hanni knows. she knows.

"please don't tell the others." you're choked up, and that's the only thing you could say before the tears in your eyes caught up. i don't know how they'll take it, you want to say, but the only thing that comes out is a broken sob.

"i won't. it's okay, y/n."

you've grown closer to hanni than you'd ever thought you would. you spend your nights in your room talking and laughing and watching funny videos you send each other.

it's been a few months since you've debuted and you couldn't be happier. you had someone to rely on, someone who knows all your secrets and can trust her with them, and vice versa.

your career has skyrocketed and your popularity is through the roof, and although there are always negative consequences that come with that fame, it's been mostly great on your end.

danielle doesn't really hang out in your room to talk anymore. if you're honest, you kind of miss it, but she surely has her reasons, and you don't think too much about it.

you're currently in one of the vocal practice rooms at HYBE, setting up your phone to do a phoning live. you'd just finish your vocal practice and you had asked for permission beforehand.

after a few minutes of talking with your fans, recommending movies and talking about food, you hear a knock on your door. quite strange.

"yeah? who is it?" you yell loud enough to no cause any ruckus. the door slightly opens and a face peeks inside, "it's me!" danielle's signature smile shining brightly at you, "i saw you were live and wanted to come hang out."

you didn't even need to tell her anything before she was coming right inside the room to grab a chair and sit beside you. "well, come hang out then!" you face your screen to see danielle struggling to bring the chair closer to you, and you chuckle a bit. "dani's here, guys!"

danielle has always been very touchy; with everyone, that is. today was not the exception, resting her head on your shoulder, holding your hand and locking your fingers together, nuzzling her face in your neck, it's all things you're already used to.

it's never been more than just friendly showcases of affection, to you, at least. and you've also never been irritated by it, but there's some guilt you try to suppress.

you don't want to push her away, you're not uncomfortable with her actions, what is uncomfortable is her potentially finding out your sexuality and thinking you let her shower you with affection for your own amusement. you fear it. but you don't want to think about that right now.

you think about it again, however, when you go back home and open social media only to see videos and threads with thousands of likes and views compiling every sweet moment of affection that happened just mere hours ago.

there's a pang in your chest when you see the tens of delusional comments talking of how much they'd like to see you and your friend as a couple. it feels like you're being strangled, and you suddenly feel unwell, so you close the app and turn off your phone.

"i should watch a movie."

you fully believe your debut was your prime. everyday gets harder, scandal after scandal, comeback after comeback, day after day. you work really hard, your members know, your fans know. but it never looks like it's going to get easier.

you win awards, win some more, get another important deal, shoot another session, write another song, the cycle repeats although not in the same order. like a fucked up loop. you're so fucking tired.

you wonder how hyein is holding up. you care a lot for her, like your little sister. she seems okay, eating a bowl of yogurt and fruits in the living room with haerin and hanni. are you the only one having a hard time?

you need to relieve your stress, and there's really no other option other than going to the gym to work out. so you go back to your room to lazily change into your practice clothes and grab your backpack, "i'm going to the gym." you try your best to sound at least a little enthusiastic as you walk behind the living room couch.

"when are you coming back?" you hear danielle ask from the kitchen, a twinge of concern in her voice. "it might start raining soon."

"i won't take long. if i see it starts to get cloudy i'll get going." you try to put her worries at ease. your gym doesn't have windows, though.

you shouldn't have gone. you're not even supposed to go anyway. it's raining hard, and it might start storming soon. but your manager can't know you're here. one of the many downsides of being in a group with four minors and two barely-adults, you can't call any of them to pick you up. so fuck it, you're taking the public transportation.

kind of extremely risky considering you are literally in newjeans, but okay. what else is there to do? what you failed to consider is the only bus stop being about five blocks away. and the bus doesn't drop you off even remotely close to the dorms. so you're gonna be running in the rain and, fuck it again, you do just that.

the first five blocks to the bus stop weren't that bad, you didn't get soaked like you imagined, blocking most raindrops with your backpack over your head. you really should've just brought an umbrella, though.

good thing you brought a mask, at least. nobody seemed to recognize you on the bus. you take a seat as close as possible to the exit and take out your phone to hurriedly text the group chat.

i got a bit caught up, im omw

domt worry 2 much

ill b there soon :))

minji responds with a thumbs up, hanni leaves an "idiot" that gets a like reaction by haerin. you see danielle write and then stop writing about 3 times, but she ends up not sending anything at all, so you just turn off your phone and look outside for your stop.

it only takes a couple minutes of waiting to see the silhouette of your dorm building. you get off your seat and wait for the bus to halt at the next stop to get off. it's raining a bit harder, but there's nothing you can do except wing it.

and when you get off, you immediately put your backpack on top of your head and start running as fast as you could towards your dorm. you get some looks, but no one can possibly be able to recognize you, not at the speed you're going.

after a few minutes, your legs start getting tired not only from running, but all the exercise you did hours earlier. another thing you failed to consider in this mediocre, careless plan.

but you're almost there. and you're almost not soaked.

by the time you reach your building the only thing about you that isn't wet is your scalp. you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, it's probably one of your members, but you're almost there, you can't pick up.

you enter the gates of the apartment, and you're probably going to make a mess on the floor on the elevator, but your legs can't take it anymore, and you thank any god that hears your prayers when the elevator doors open and it's empty. you can't take more embarrassment right now.

the doors open once again and you try not to make much noise as you run towards your dorm. someone inside must've heard you fumbling with your keys because as soon as you find the right one the door is already open, a concerned danielle with a just as worried minji behind her. you smile at the sight of them. "hello!"

"get your ass inside!" you hear hanni shout from the couch.

you're drying your hair in your room after taking a shower and explaining the situation to your group members. just as you're about to turn on your phone to see what time it is you hear a knock on your door, "can i come in?" it's danielle.

"yup. come on in!" you answer a lot more energized than a couple hours before. danielle's not wearing her usual bright smile, but rather a more worried expression. "y/n, can we talk?"

you're confused. you've never heard or seen her like this before. she's obviously been worried before, she cares about you just as much as the others, but this time it's different. "yeah, what's up?" you try your best to respond calmly and tap a stop in the bed beside yourself, which danielle gladly takes.

"are you okay?" she asks as she settles down at your side. what?

"what do you mean?" you don't notice it but you start fidgeting with your own fingers. danielle notices.

"it's just," she tries looking somewhere else, but she can't help the need of looking into your eyes all the time, looking for some sort of sign, some crack, "i can tell you're stressed. you're tired and... if you need to talk i just want you to know that i'm here." her eyes are dripping honey and her hand is so warm when she grabs yours.

you show her a sluggish smile, "thanks, dani. i appreciate that." when you look back, her face is already finding it's way to the crook of your neck. "i'm just a little tired of everything. it really feels like i'm doing the same things all over again. i know we've achieved a lot as a group but i feel like i have nothing going on for myself." you sigh, danielle says nothing, urging you to continue.

"all the songs i pitch get turned down, my other drafts feel too personal to release as a group song. every song i write with the group in mind feels, i don't know, empty?"

your eyes unfocus as a wave of emptiness washes over you and the only thing you feel is a water droplet from your bangs fall and travel down your temples. and also the warmth shared by danielle's hand in yours.

"i just feel like nothing's going on in my life." you feel danielle's head leave your shoulder and you turn to look at each other at the same time, "i think i know how you feel." she says with the sweetest eyes ever.

"thanks for listening, dani." you smile at her, but it feels so strange when she doesn't smile back. she just stares, right through you. her eyes are so pretty; you've always known but this is the first time you've looked at them directly for so long (there's really nothing else for you to look at when she's so close to your face).

oh, yeah. in a sudden moment you were inches apart. you don't remember moving so it must've been danielle.

you don't really understand what's going on. maybe this is an eye contact battle and you're not supposed to blink. and you think for a moment you had it easy because suddenly danielle's pretty eyes are nowhere to be found and you're staring at her eyelids and long eyelashes instead.

before your brain even thinks of giving you the chance to mutter "i win!" in a silly manner, you feel your own lips getting shut. covered, enveloped by another set of softness.

oh. this is not what you expected at all.

what are you even supposed to do right now? well, pull away, obviously. but that could could give danielle the impression that you hate everything about this and, really, that's not true at all. it's good. well, not good, but- danielle is not horrible at kissing.

what even is happening, anyway? i mean, you're kissing. but what else? nothing feels like it's moving; it feels like time's stopped. there also hasn't been anything that has lead up to this happening.

so you're just left there, paralyzed, in shock, waiting until danielle pulls away. just waiting until she's done with you. until she's satisfied.

and it's until danielle notices that you're not moving that she realizes what she's done. she pulls away, shaken and distraught.

"y/n, i am so sorry. i don't know what came over me, i am so so so sorry. i really didn't mean to do that. please forgive me, y/n, i am really so sorry." at this point, danielle's voice starts to break. "i don't know why i did that, it's just, i don't know, you just looked good a-and we were just close and-"

"it's okay, dani. i know."

"no, y/n, i really am sorry. i-"

"dani, i swear it's fine." you grab her shoulder to reassure her, but is anything really fine right now? "i..." you don't really know what to say next. "i don't, like, hate you or anything. i understand things like that happen. i'm not mad at you."

"really?" you've never seen her tear up so fast. you definitely didn't expect her to tear up at this. but you know the feeling of guilt so well you can't help but feel sympathy for her. "are you sure? i promise it won't happen again."

"i'm sure, dani. you could never do anything to make me hate you."

you smile at her, she sniffles. it's the last thing you hear before you hear the sound of her wristwatch's seconds ticking. you don't really know what's going through her head. you count about 34 ticks.

"did you hate it?" her voice isn't weak, but it is lower than you normally expect it to be.

you're stunned, but the way she looks at you so earnestly, with a hint of nervousness in her eyes forces you to answer within seconds, "n-no! dani, i didn't... hate it. it was just unexpected. i didn't really process it at first." it's the truth, but it feels so gut-wrenching to say.

another 20 ticks of quiet.

"can i do it again?"

hello? hello? what is going on? hello?

"i-i mean, if you want to." it sounds more like a question than a proper answer. and danielle takes it anyway.

you don't have any romantic feelings for danielle, that's for sure. she's said she doesn't have any feelings for you either. that's established. and yet when hanni is too caught up watching movies in the living room with minji and hyein, danielle is always there, sitting in your bed.

sometime's it's just little pecks while you cuddle and watch something she doesn't care much about. sometime's she's on the verge of kissing the living shit out of you.

it's never more than that. none of you let it be more than that. it's more than okay.

it's comfortable. it's casual.

and yet, every time it happens, you feel guilt eat at your stomach.

because danielle doesn't know. and she can't know.

it's not like this was your idea in the first place, it was danielle's. but the fact that you let her do it anyway could be predatory enough for her to feel unsafe if she ever did find out. even if she's the one who caused this all.

and never once do you think about yourself while it happens. it's not a moment for you, it's a moment for danielle to take. and you're okay with that. as long as she's okay with it.

you're okay with many things just because danielle is okay with them.

if danielle wants to watch a romcom, you watch a romcom. if danielle wants to eat plain yogurt, you eat plain yogurt. if danielle wants to kiss you, you let her kiss you.

it's not that big of a deal if there are no feelings involved. it's just a matter of believing that that's actually true.

you let her do whatever she wants because you're scared to do the taking. because taking feels like stealing, and doing feels like attacking. and you're so scared to hurt danielle that you forget you can also hurt yourself.

but if it's so casual, why doesn't she let go of your hand? why does she call you pretty everyday? why does she look at you with those pretty eyes like you're her whole world?

was the "i love you" she said yesterday something she meant as platonic love? is there such a thing as casual love?

was it just the sound of the raindrops on your window that made you hallucinate the sound of a love confession?

you don't eat anything for the rest of the day.

minji and hyein are visiting their parents. hanni and haerin are out of the country. and you're in the dorm kitchen trying to figure out how blurred the lines are while you mix the milk into your tea.

you feel your heart drop when you hear the sound of footsteps of the line-blurrer herself over the sounds of light rain. it hasn't stopped since the day before.

you don't want to feel anything right now, you don't want to hear anything right now.

she wraps her arms around your waist and says, "good morning." with that big bright smile on her face. at one point it started hurting when she did, but you don't remember when.

she smells like the candles you burnt in your room two days after hanni left. you were trying to get rid of danielle's scent from your room, but you couldn't tell her that, so you just said you were trying something new.

danielle notices you say nothing back, and your eyes are nowhere in particular. "watchu thinkin' about?" her always cheery tone gets you out of your trance, and she notices when you stop stirring the spoon in your cup. you're still silent for a bit, but she lets you take your time.

"i don't think we should do this anymore, danielle."

you tense up when her arms leave your waist, but it feels oddly freeing. you don't turn back to face her.

"what do you mean?"

"are we still casual?"

there's disbelief in danielle's voice when she speaks, "what are you talking about? of course we are!" but she sounds dishonest, in a way.

"really?" that's when you turn around, her eyes are wide and her cheeks are quite flushed but nothing about her seems guilty at all, "because saying "i love you" doesn't seem quite casual to me."

she scoffs, "y/n, i tell all my friends i love them. it's a normal thing!"

"i'd agree with you if we weren't kissing on the low. it's a little too much on top of that."

"i don't know what you think casual means but-"

"what i mean is we should stop before the lines start to blur, that's if they haven't already." you don't want to yell at her. you hope she understands before you have to raise your voice. "we are public figures, famous figures. if this goes wrong we can't go back and that could potentially ruin everything, not only for us but for our group."

"well, it can't go wrong if there's no feelings involved, can it?" danielle is usually playfully sassy, but she's never responded to you like this before.

"we're human, danielle. feelings can't be stopped." you're not too good at reading people, but you can see something has clicked in danielle's brain.

"what i'm getting is that you developed feelings for me while we were casual, is that right?" she seems so sure and confident that it annoys you. it frustrates you. and you want to cry.

"no, that's not what i said. but i am scared of it happening, and i want this to stop before it has the chance to."

"well, you should've thought of that before you said yes." you never really did.

"why are you upset, anyways?"

"b-because!" her voice gets louder, "i just wanted this to be casual, and now your telling me you're scared of catching feelings, it's just weird. that's all."

you sigh, "listen, i don't want this to end on a bad note. i just-"

"well, i don't want this to end at all!"

it takes you a minute to believe what you're hearing.

"a-are you hearing yourself?" it's shocking, it really is, "this is crazy, why are you being so selfish right now?"

"because it feels good! okay?!" danielle has completely let go of the loose strings of morality she was holding on to, "it fucking feels good, a-and you make me feel good. i like it when we kiss, and i like it when we cuddle and, and, i just like it, okay?!" that's the first time you've heard danielle curse in your entire life.

"okay, well, i'm glad you did. but i don't. i don't feel good at all." it's so scary and risky because you're two seconds away from telling her the truth, and this could potentially damage both your careers irreversibly, but you can't think of any lie or excuse that is true enough to keep hiding it.

"i drown in guilt every time we kiss and i feel like i'm choking when you look at me these days."

you've never seen her look so confused, like she really doesn't understand you. because she never had to.

"why?"

"i am a lesbian, danielle." you can't shatter, not now. "and it kills me because you'll never understand how hard it is to hide like this for so long. and yes, we hide this casual thing from our members, but after this is over you don't have to hide anything at all and i still have to hide everything."

she says nothing. her eyes soften, but you can't read them. not like you ever could.

"i didn't catch feelings for you, but i could, and you're not helping out. and you don't have to worry about that. you don't have to worry about your members being disgusted at you for something you can't change. you don't have to pretend. you don't have to be scared that you're making someone uncomfortable by simply existing beside them. i had to pretend i didn't care when you kissed me, i had to pretend to be okay when you kissed me again. i've been pretending to be okay with so much i don't know what being okay is anymore."

danielle still says nothing.

"but that's all gone to shit now, hasn't it?" your voice can't break now, but it does anyway, even when your not done speaking. "i can't be okay with everything. i can't be casual about everything, danielle. not anymore." there's a hot tear running down your cheek, but you try to hold yourself together.

"i never want to hurt you, ever, danielle. but i am seriously hurting myself. i am eating myself from inside out. there's nothing casual about that."

"i think i might be in love with you." is the first thing she says in minutes. and that's when you shatter completely. you turn around to leave your mug of now cold tea on the counter and you rest your elbows on it to hide your face in your hands.

"do you think that helps?" you're sobbing.

"i'm sorry. i know it doesn't. i just had a moment of realization and i think that's why i was so upset. i didn't want you to end this because i was in love with you since the start and didn't realize."

"this is fucking crazy." it really is, that's why you can't hold down the laugh of complete astonishment that leaves your lips. "do you realize how crazy this is? i just came out to you and you're- i don't even want to think about this."

"i'm really sorry, y/n." it's the first time you see guilt in danielle's face in a long time. "i really am. i really didn't know, i- i didn't know anything at all."

"you were upset of me potentially having feelings for you when it was you the whole time, huh?" this is no time or place to make jokes, you're literally crying as you speak. but this is hilarious. danielle seems to think so too given she also laughs.

"i don't know what i was thinking." she says, hiding her face in her palm in embarrassment.

"i wish i knew too." you say, "i never do."

"so what now? i mean, you clearly don't like me back." you don't understand how danielle does it. she never looks away, she faces the truth, something you're unable to do easily.

"that's a good question, i actually never thought about that." i mean, you thought the possibility of danielle ever liking a woman, let alone you, was at a mere 0.1%, can you blame yourself for not thinking of a solution to this?

"i mean, you did say you could."

"selfish asshole." you mutter to yourself, but danielle hears it anyways. "hey!"

"i'm crying right in front of you out of fear and frustration, have some respect, dude."

"i would say it wouldn't hurt to try but it clearly does so i don't know what you want to do." wow, danielle really could never do anything to make you hate her. nothing at all. "i don't mind being the selfless one this time."

"cheesy." she's always been like that, you can't say you hate it. "i'll reheat my tea and think about it."

danielle waits for you. maybe it wouldn't be so bad to risk falling in love with her too. you've risked it once.

the microwave beeps and you take your mug out. it's hot again. you turn to face danielle and she's still there, hasn't moved an inch. "i'm willing to give it a try. but nothing casual."

she shines you the widest grin you've ever seen from her. "nothing was ever casual, i fear."

"i still can't believe you cursed." you say as you walk past her to go to your room (that probably smells like danielle's perfume again).

"i did?!" she trails behind you. you nod. "i almost jumped."

"hey, am i the first one to know?"

"what, that i'm a lesbian?" she nods, now beside you. you shake your head after a sip of your tea.

"hanni knew."

"i'm not even the first? fuck..." is she doing this on purpose... she has to be, right?

"dude? hello?"

"don't dude me, i'm your future girlfriend." she hits your arm as you walk into your room. you don't know what you're gonna say to hanni when she comes back.

"confident much? shut up and pick a movie to watch." you'll figure it out later.

end.

🗒️ this wasn't as long as i thought it was gonna be THANK GOD

#newjeans x reader #danielle x reader #danielle marsh x reader #danielle angst #newjeans angst

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starmuselove · 6 months ago

Text

How to not miss your "IT GIRL" moment?

This PAC is to help you become the best version of yourself. An 'IT GIRL' in your own right. What's stopping your star quality from being expressed? The version that makes people "oh she's got that quality about her that just makes me wanna be spectacular too". Imo everyone gets a chance to shine atleast once in their life. Grandly and unapologetically, if you have enough strength to overcome your fears.

And some people just stay being the fabulous star they are just like the millions of stars in the sky. But many are here on Earth, so, do you wanna glow from the inside too, here and now?

So I will today be showing you the things that you are doing that's creating a barrier between you and the star YOU. I will also give you few pointers on what you should embody more.

This pick a pile was created in collaboration with @leafsvflowers. First 3 piles are in my Blog(in this post) and the latter 3 are in her Blog. You can scroll down to click on the link to her post.

Disclaimer: Tarot only shows possibilities based on current energies. They change all the time as no person stays the same way forever, the mind changes back and forth and it creates new possibilities. Take the reading as a guidance and not as law. And finally, only take what resonates.

⚠️ Warning: Some piles have senstive content because this is about confronting what's wrong. So proceed with caution.

PILE 1

I clearly see that you are not nurturing yourself, your feminine side especially. You do not let things flow to yourself and out, you could somehow be disrespecting your own emotional and nurturing side because of it. You refuse to see things as they are and could possibly delude yourself that you are doing a good job of handling your emotions well, when in fact you are operating from a place of unevolved masculine values(all people have both energies). Intuition blocked and so is the creativity, the divine energy that moves within all those who create. You might possibly even withdraw without proper confrontation of situations, stuffing it all back down. Withdrawal symptoms. It could come out as being emotionally manipulative. You have become a shell of superficiality and inside-there's nothing for your soul to sustain. You are holding on, making it seem it's all good outside but inside.... Your soul is screaming for freedom, to be wild and free.

Embody- THE PHEONIX, THE WOLF.

These cards call you out to embrace the changing and unstable times. But not turn into something you are not, Overcome them to create your own unique identity, the one that will make you the fantastic YOU, the you that just pulses with feminine nurturing energy. Focus of being you, not fitting in the aesthetics of this fake world of social media. If you are someone who focuses on being socially accepted and in keeping up appearances, don't.

The real you shines so much better and they are a force to be reckoned with, they cannot ever be ignored. They respect the differences they bring to the world and flaunt it with power and beauty. Don't try to fit in, instead go where you are drawn to naturally. Let your feminine side breath!!!! You should try self-pampering body massages, some sun maybe that vitamin D(*wink wink*) and saunas.

PILE 2

(Warning- Sensitive topics below)

I see you have this tunnel vision when it comes to your emotions and love, that you are not seeing the other important details. You could have been abused at some point because of you being this understanding, emotionally nurturing, always showing up for other people energy.

You could love to love. Love to fall in love. You could be having this tendency to get obsessed about love, getting swept up in the feeling of love or having this false definition of it too.

I see you are failing to see the dark side of the Human Psyche. And you are rejecting it from yourself too, accept your shadow and let it serve you, not the other way around. Your shadow part always shows where you have been disrespected.

Darling, it's time you stop this and start investing in yourself. No love comes before self-love and it will never ever be as satisfying as self-love, I promise. Give the love to yourself, it's gonna be so worth it. Hold yourself like you'd hold an abandoned puppy or kitten- with love and care. That’s what I'm seeing now. Nurture yourself. Hold your emotions as the precious thing they are, don't drown in them. Don't let it prevent you from seeing the bigger perspective, the analytical side of it. And I say this with love, for God's sake don't give out your love to everyone or anyone. Stop giving too much out to people before yourself. At the same time, don't let the shadows engulf you.

You could also indulge in your emotions more than necessary when it's not the right time to indulge in it, you could think that pain is all you are made for- kind of like a spiralling down. It could make you wallow in them over and over. Instead of letting your pain swallow you, use it to see what exactly is needing attention. We don't give enough attention on the problem to prevent it from happening again sometimes. So no, don't get all closed up because of pain now.

I understand that we all crave love and acceptance but you are not loving yourself, you are disrespecting yourself by giving away yourself to people who don't see your value, who don't see what you offer.

You could also abandon love completely and hyperfixate on your freedom at times- hyper independence. You could focus too much into your work in attempts to abandon your emotions, to not see the shadow aspects of a situation and to even protect yourself against these harsh truth of reality too. Choose connections that are nurturing vice-versa and not only by one side. Choose yourself first. And always. Be kind to people just not overly giving than necessary.

Most importantly don't give up on love and don't give up on your own softness, your ability to enjoy life. Make sure you are not drowning in emotions cause of your romanticization of things. Don't turn your back to love, don't turn your back from facing the shadow.

Embody- THE PEACOCK.

You are beautiful, elegant and royal. Assert yourself, no matter what others say even if it seems too much for them to handle you. Like the peacock, show up in your celestial glory. Show up with your colourful feathers. If they get intimated it's not your problem. The peacock dances right before it rains, similarly let the nature guide you and let yourself be attuned to the nature. People could try to belittle you by pointing out your shortcomings but you are much more than the things that happened before. And even the shortcomings they notice in you is actually there to protect you from people like them. They are not your people.

I actually read something after I fully finished interpreting the readings but i had to add this in, "Even though the peacock feathers look beautiful to the perceivers, for the peacock it's just hair". You could very well be not noticing your own magic.

Enjoy and rejoice the encounters the universe is bringing you now, no matter brief or prolonged. You could also move around, dance and do rain gazing to channel this IT GIRL moment/energy more. Water is very healing for you.

PILE 3

(Warning- Sensitive topics below)

You could be someone who gives out responsibilities to others and in worst cases, you assign your own responsibilities to other people. Some people here could also abandon their responsibilities and focus only on things that give you happiness. While it is a good habit, you could do that at expense of others. Or you simply could be avoiding your responsibilities and putting in work.

You wish to indulge in things that bring you happiness and comfort only. You want to be this all knowing, knowledged authority figure. On the outside it seems like you are doing this for the best, but it's your ego wanting attention and praise. You might also have a habit of making yourself seem 'wishing the best to all' to justify things you have done for your own benefit. You could use your resources to fulfill your wishes and addictions. Honestly, you seem to be addicted to things that are not serving for your highest in long run.

You could also have this false belief that everything will turn out to your favour even if situations seems to demand your attention to change for the better. Yeah you seem to take advantage of people's compassion and empathy to take advantage of them to get what you want. Simple as that. Tone down your ego and hold yourself responsible.

Anyhow you are letting superficial pleasures have a vice over you. You are falling back into toxic patterns. Excess indulgence in guilty pleasures that is turning you into getting addicted to them. You could be again thinking everything's gonna be fine and you are better than other people but, it seems they are empty assurances that are simply not true.

Embody- TARANTULA.

You are called to give more attention to what you consume, what you think and make conscious decisions on everything in your life. And don't try to play with people's feelings. So you really think the things you did were for the best? Or were those a result of your own needs. See if you can get your needs though alternate methods that don't involve the shady business. Don't try to make things seem more dramatic than they are too. Re-think your purpose and aim in life. Your toxic coping mechanisms and habits will come to bite you back soon if you don't start taking steps to change them.

PILE 4, PILE 5, PILE 6

Read Pile 4, 5 & 6 in @leafsvflowers's account ⇒ Here.

As always, feel free to give feedback and let me know what you thought. If you need someone to talk to for support my DM's and ask box is open esp. for this post readers.

#pick a pile #pick a picture #pick a card #tarot readings #tarot reading #pick a pile tarot #it girl tarot #pac collab #intuitive pac #intuitive tarot #intuitive reading #tarotcommunity #tarot #tarotblr #tarot pac #tarot collaboration pac #tarot collaboration

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muzzlemouths · 16 days ago

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Mermay day 1: Seashell

WC: 1970 // TW: n/a

It’s not every day that you have the chance to encounter something magical in the deep, blue sea.

Sure, mermaid sightings have become more common over the years ever since their migration patterns shifted to encompass a larger part of the humble port town you call home, but their very existence continues to astound you and remains a focal point of the magic that threads through the sea. To behold such creatures might not be the once in a lifetime experience it once was, but that doesn’t make it any less special.

Today, you’ve rowed your measly, wooden skiff far into the ocean’s embrace for just that reason, hoping to catch a glimpse of the pods before they’ve all left for bluer waters, bringing with you a pair of old binoculars, a hat to keep the sun off your cheeks, and the simple pleasure of a tuna salad sandwich.

Unfortunately, it simply isn’t your day. The temptation to pack up your things and call it a day grows with every passing hour that you sit here cooking under the midday sun with nothing to show for your efforts. You had raced for the docks the moment news spread that a large pod had been spotted just north of the shore, failing to pack anything more than the essentials in your hurry to get out on the water. But now, bobbing along the ocean all on your lonesome, you’re starting to feel a little foolish about it all. If things continue as they are, your only reward will be a sunburn and a firm kick to the pride.

Reminding yourself that patience is a virtue, your binoculars are set aside and the search for fins briefly halted in favor of tucking into your lunch. There is nothing in the world you trust more in this moment than the healing properties of hardboiled egg, sour pickle, and cold fish slathered in way too much mayo. It hits the spot like nothing else on a day like today, when the breeze is salty and the temperature is just right. If nothing else, coming out here today was worth it for the enrichment alone. You really need to get out of the house more often.

A quiet knock, calcium on wood, interrupts your meal. Tuna escapes from the side of your mouth in a thick glop and lands on your thigh as you twist around to face the noise, finding nothing out of the ordinary.

It isn’t unusual to welcome visitors, even — if not especially —out in the ocean. Everything from seagulls to sea lions will come over looking for a bite if you so much as smell like you’re hoarding food in your pockets, so it’s fairly surprising when you’re greeted by nothing but the appearance of a small, beige shell.

It’s a pretty little thing. Off-white in color with tapered claws and a narrow body. You don’t often find murex shells on your walks along the beach, especially not in this perfect of condition, so its existence is, on its own, a pinch confounding. Odder, still, it appeared in your boat seemingly out of nowhere, and still wet from the ocean, to boot, as though it had simply hopped inside for a free ride back to shore.

Your sandwich is easily forgotten, set aside so you can look the shell over with both hands. It really is beautiful, as all shells are. That said, there’s really nothing special about it aside from how perfectly intact it is, and for that reason alone you decide it would be better appreciated by a creature that can actually make use of it, seeing as you’re much too large to fit in the abode yourself.

With little more than a casual shrug the shell is unceremoniously tossed back into the sea.

Seeing fit to return to your sandwich, you wipe the salt from your hands and turn back around — where a stranger awaits, wide eyed and looking impossibly disheartened.

The mermaid’s presence alone startles you backwards. These creatures are the very reason behind your expedition today, sure, but never before have you seen one so up close and personal; especially not one of this size.

With a rounded head, squared shoulders, and a back fin stretching further than your entire upper half, you can only imagine that the rest of him, obscured below the chest, dwarfs you entirely. He is strangely painted for a creature of the sea. A sunshine yellow body with brilliant gold accents meeting sharp cherry red, frilled neck fins bursting with the color. A fan of sunbleached fins circles his face, lazily draping over his shoulders and dripping saltwater down his torso.

For such an enormous creature, one might expect him to look quite vicious, but that isn’t the case. If anything, he looks entirely dejected, frowning at you like a puppy that’s just been kicked to the side of the road.

“Oh, um…hello…” The words dribble from your mouth like breadcrumbs, soft and nearly unheard. Your stomach twists uncomfortably as the oversized fish before you continues to do nothing but stare in your direction.

You can’t deny the stars in your eyes (the opportunity to see a mermaid in such close detail inevitably has you beaming with excitement) but your gut reminds you that mermaids, much like any other sharp toothed creature that rules the deep, are more than capable of making you into their version of a tuna sandwich. You have to tread carefully.

“Are you out here on your own?” You ask, fully expecting to be ignored. “There’s normally more of you…you know, traveling in pods, and such. I mean, it’s unusual to see one of you all by yourself, but not impossible, it’s been recorded befo—”

Either your nerdy ramblings bore him, or, more realistically, he didn’t actually understand a word of what you just said, because he disappears beneath the waves again before you manage to finish the thought. Rude.

Sighing, you resign yourself to the notion that the special moment is already over with quick as it came. You should head back to shore before the sun threatens to pierce a hole through your flimsy hat, anyway. No point in pushing your luck.

You’ve barely curled your hand around the oar when your boat pitches back back back, where a second mermaid dips the stern into the ocean like a chip takes to salsa, having already shimmied its body halfway into your boat and wrapped its cavernous mouth around what remains of your tuna salad sandwich.

“H—Hey!”

You are clumsy as a fish out of water yourself as you attempt to save your lunch, but this new mermaid, blue as the ocean itself, is quicker. Quick enough to slide over the side of your boat like a slinky coming down the stairs, taking your beloved sandwich with him.

The resulting turbulence throws you to your back, then eases, waves calming ever briefly as your boat is allowed to settle for all of a blink before the bow side heaves into the ocean, taking in water fast as the first mermaid awkwardly scrambles its way up and into your boat. Gills flaring, tail thrashing, he shimmies into the small vehicle like a sea lion attempting to get its footing (finning?) on a slippery rock, until he finally manages to fit all of himself inside. Barely. How your boat doesn’t sink from the weight outright, you don’t know.

Your hands fly up and away from the creature as he makes himself at home here, curling in a big, cozy circle (seemingly unaware of or apathetic to the damage he is doing to your only source of transportation in the process) until finally he comes to a stop before you. Then and only then does a noise stir from his throat. Something wet, something ugly… the sound of a cat about to hack up the world’s nastiest hairball.

And hack he does, undulating at the throat and dry heaving for ten impossibly long seconds until out falls a shell, then two, then four, then twelve, all landing directly in your lap and covered in a thick layer of mucus, cozied up beside the stripped corpses of his breakfast. How thoughtful!

It takes more strength than you’re willing to admit just to tear your eyes away from the mess, and when you finally do, finding the mermaid’s eyes once again, it’s to the sight of him beaming proudly. Ear to — er, fin to fin.

You try to smother the disgust before it reaches your expression. Really, you do. But it must show on your face regardless, because his smile crumbles into a look of abject devastation, and in fact, he looks outright inconsolable over your evident lack of appreciation for his gifts.

“No, no, it’s okay!” It’s a battle and a half to keep yourself from gagging as you pluck one of the shells — a vibrant orange conch — from the pile, and bring it up to your face for a better look, breathing through your mouth all the while so you don’t inhale the stench of half digested fish. “This one is pretty neat,” you tell him. It’s not even a lie, really. The shell is ringed to a sharpened point, its inside smooth under your thumb and brushed with shades of rainbow sherbet, making for quite the looker.

The mucus is done away with easily enough with a few dunks in the ocean, then dried with the hem of your shirt. It is then tucked into your pocket, weighing no more than a stone, and with that you turn back to the mermaid who waits, expectantly, for your final judgement. All it takes is a smile for him to flash his own set of pearly whites, all worries forgotten the moment he understands that you’ve finally accepted the gift.

His body tucks against yours like an oversized dog looking for pets, purring against your jugular and spreading oily residue across your cheeks, and drenching your clothes, tail thrashing with excitement. It would be cute if not for the fact that your white knuckled grip on the gunwale is the only thing preventing him from outright knocking you from the boat and into the awaiting ocean.

An impatient growl interrupts your chances of being flattened like a bug against the port. It’s the only thing that manages to pry the mermaid off of you, and even then, he does so with visible reluctance, complaining to the awaiting blue mer with agitated clicks of his tongue.

Even so, he finds the time to nuzzle against your chest (that is, bulldozer into it) one last time before slinking out of your boat with relative ease, leaving you be at last.

With his offerings accepted and joy restored, he spares one last look your way, head popping above the surface and arm following soon after to depart with an eager wave, then he disappears beneath the water for good. Your sandwich thief follows close behind, hardly acknowledging you with more than an agitated grunt before he, too, dives out of view, and that’s that.

Your body slumps, heavy with exhaustion, against the only part of your boat that doesn’t look like it will give out at any minute. Tepid water laps at your ankles, made cloudy by the gut flora encircling the pile of shells they left behind. You’re never going to get this smell out of your clothes.

Despite everything that occurred, you can’t find it in yourself to complain. You have one hell of a story to tell, and a beautiful shell to remember them by until next year rolls around when maybe, just maybe, you might see them again.

One thing is for sure: the next time you set out in search of mermaids, you’ll bring enough tuna for two.

#DCFPUmermay25 #oneshots #I KNOW I'M LATE I KNOW I AM. SHHHH #DCA community #sun fnaf #moon fnaf #mermay

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isasweetie · 3 months ago

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so, how did kitty!reader and john b meet ?

you truly were like a cat, prowling through the crowds of people at the boneyard. you had snuck out of the house an hour ago because god knows your father, deputy shoupe, would never let you leave the house to go to a keg party hosted by the pogues. especially because a man had just been found dead in the ocean after the hurricane, your father would take no risks with his innocent and sheltered daughter.

shoupe couldn’t tell you what to do. he’d always tried, but you made up her mind a long time ago that you were better off without his judgement.

you walked over to the pogues, sneaking up behind them to ask for a beer. you were quiet, but less like a stray cat, and more like a black panther. the pogues were startled when youshe appeared behind them, because you’re quiet, even in her black kitten heels.

they seem to be on edge for whatever reason. you’re an innocent-looking girl, they have to reason to be tense. they usually wouldn’t give a fuck if you were the deputy’s daughter, but they’re already on the run, and they can’t take any chances.

so john b does something that normally jj would do in this situation — he charms the enemy. “hey pretty, do you want a beer?” he offers.

“yes please,” you say gently, confident and meek at the same time.

he nods and pours one for you, then hands you the full solo cup. “thanks,” you say, then turn to go. no, he can’t let you leave yet. what if he’s made a bad impression, then something goes wrong with the cops, and you do nothing to protect him?

“hey, wait,” he grabs your shoulder to spin you around. “d’you wanna hang out with me? it’s boring handing out beers here on my own,” he smiles and it’s so sweet.

“i’m actually looking for a friend—“

he shakes his head no and interrupts you. “i’d just love to get to know you better, s’all,”

you gaze up at him, hesitant and on guard, but you nod. he’s cute and he seems nice enough. “okay,” you stand beside him.

“i’m john b routledge,” he introduces while handing a beer to some touron.

you blink up at him, eyebrows furrowed. “big john’s son?”

“yeah, that’s me.”

“oh,” you say. “my dad talks about you,”

“good things?”

“not so much.”

he laughs and you don’t expect it. usually when you find out the deputy of your town hates you, you don’t find it funny. but john b is different — in a good way. that laugh makes you like him instantly, because you realize you’re not the only person who doesn’t worship your dad.

“yeah, figured, your pops doesn’t like me very much,” he shrugs.

“why not?” he’s noticed all your answers are short. you remind him of kiara, a bit closed off.

“nothin’ serious, pretty girl, don’t worry about it. i just don’t wanna be put in fucking foster care, and shoupe and plumb don’t like me living on my own,”

“oh.”

you hear your friend call to you when she spots you in the crowd. you glance up at john b, as if you’re… asking for permission to leave him for your friend? you’re just so used to an overbearing single father, that being around any man makes you think they’ll act the same. truthfully, john b normally would act like that. you’re sweet and innocent and he wants to bring you out of your shell. of course shoupe would be protective, anyone would! but, topper thornton calls his name from another direction, and he knows something will go down.

“yeah, don’t worry, you can go,” he assures.

you nod up at him. “it was nice to meet you john b. i’ll see you around?”

“‘course you will,” he agrees, staring at topper coming closer.

he doesn’t realize just yet how everything is about to go down, and he’ll be seeing you around and begging for help to escape your father before you both know it.

#౨ৎ isa writes #౨ৎ kitty!reader #⋆˚࿔ john b 𝜗𝜚˚⋆#obx #outer banks #john b x fem!reader #john b prompt #john b x you #john b fluff #john b fanfiction #john b routledge #john b outer banks #john b x reader #john b fanfic #john b obx #chase stokes

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sturnswrites · 5 months ago

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guarded hearts - pt.3

fratboy!chris x fem!reader

⤳ you meet chris while working on a class project, your personalities are very different but chris is determined to get you out of your shell.

⤳ drinking, smut, p in v,

----------------------------------------------------------------------

This night at the frat party feels like a blur, but the echoes of laughter and clinking cups are still fresh in your ears as you and Chris make your way back to your apartment. The warmth of the alcohol is fading, replaced by a cool, steady buzz that feels a little more comfortable. It’s not a state of clarity, but you’re still aware enough to notice how close you’re walking, how your shoulders brush with each step. It’s a casual intimacy, nothing overt, but it lingers between you two.

Chris’s hand grazes yours again, but this time, neither of you pull away. For a moment, you think you might say something, maybe joke about how you’re getting along better than you expected. But you don’t. Instead, you keep walking, the tension in the air thickening.

When you get to your apartment door, you hesitate. Your fingers hover over the handle, but you can’t quite bring yourself to open it. Your apartment—this safe space—is where everything feels most real, where you’re not just another girl at the frat or a casual acquaintance. It’s where everything feels raw, and tonight, you don’t know if you’re ready to let him in.

Chris senses the shift immediately. He stops beside you, his gaze softening as he watches you. “Hey, you okay?”

You nod quickly, though your heart is beating a little too fast. "Yeah, just... been a long night."

“Want me to go?” he asks gently, though his voice carries a hint of uncertainty.

“No.” Your answer comes quicker than you expect. “No, stay. I just—” you falter, unsure of how to explain why your apartment feels like a boundary you’re scared to cross. But before you can get the words out, you push the door open and step inside. Chris follows you in, his presence filling up the room.

You immediately feel self-conscious. This is where you’re supposed to feel at home, but tonight, it feels more like a cage. “You can stay in the living room if you want,” you say quickly, hoping to set some kind of distance. You’re still not sure you’re ready to let him close.

He tilts his head, considering you for a moment. “Or, I could stay here,” he says pointing toward your bedroom, his voice softer than usual, “If that’s okay with you.”

You glance at the couch, then back at him, and for a moment, you feel like there’s an invisible line between the two of you. But then something shifts in you. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, maybe it’s the vulnerability that’s been building all night, but you can’t keep pushing him away—not now, not when it feels like you might lose the chance to be open, to be real with someone.

You motion toward the couch. “We can sit here,” you say, almost quietly.

You and Chris sit in silence for a moment, the only sounds are the hum of the fridge and the soft clink of our glass bottles as you both nurse the last of our drinks. You can feel the weight of everything pressing in on you—your past, the bad decisions, the hurt you’ve experienced. It’s all too much, and yet, in the stillness between you two, it feels like the right time to say something.

“You know,” you start, voice a little wobbly, “I haven’t really let anyone in like this before.”

Chris doesn’t respond right away, just watches you, the concern on his face evident. But you can tell he’s waiting for you to continue.

You take a shaky breath. “I’ve had... bad experiences with guys,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. But it’s hard. So hard to say out loud. “I’ve trusted people, and they’ve hurt me. Lied to me. I thought I could love them and that they would love me back, but it’s never really been that way. I’ve been cheated on, used, lied to. And every time it happens, it just gets harder to trust anyone again.”

Chris doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t say anything at first. He just leans back, his eyes soft, but intent on listening. You can’t tell if he’s pitying you or if he truly cares, but somehow, his silence is comforting. You’re not being judged. Not yet.

You try to pull yourself together, but the weight of it all is suffocating. The tears start coming faster than you want them to. You swipe at your eyes quickly, but it’s no use. It’s as if all the anger, the fear, the hurt you’ve pushed down for so long finally bubbles to the surface.

“I just…” you choke, your breath uneven. “I just don’t know how to trust people anymore. I want to, but I’m so scared. Every time I open up, every time I let someone in, it always ends the same. They leave, or they betray me, and I don’t know how much more of that I can take.”

You look down at your lap, the shame creeping in with every word. You don’t want him to see you like this, broken and vulnerable. But you can’t stop it. The tears keep coming, and for the first time, you don’t bother to hide them.

Chris moves closer without a word, his presence steady, like he’s waiting for you to fall apart. He doesn’t make you feel small, doesn’t say you should have done better or you shouldn’t feel this way. He just pulls you into him, his arms wrapping around you gently, as though holding you is all he can offer.

You let yourself cry, let yourself lean into him, letting the weight of it all finally wash over you. Your body shakes with the force of it, but his arms stay around you, offering solace. It’s strange—comforting, even—that he’s not asking for anything in return. He’s not pushing you to talk more or to explain yourself. He’s just here, listening.

“I’m not like the others, Y/N,” he says quietly, his voice low and steady as you pull away just enough to look at him. “I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to be scared with me.”

His words hit you like a wave, pushing back the last of my fears, but you’re still hesitant. You’ve never had someone hold you like this, without expecting something in return. “But how can you promise that?” you ask, your voice trembling. “How can you know? People always say that, but they always end up leaving.”

Chris’s hand gently cups your face, lifting it so your eyes meet. There’s a quiet intensity there, something in his gaze that makes you believe him. “Because I’m not going anywhere. I’m not like them, Y/N. I swear.”

You search his face, looking for any sign of dishonesty, any hint that he’s saying what you want to hear. But there’s nothing. He’s not lying. He’s not just telling you what you want to hear. He’s saying it because he means it.

In that moment, you let your guard down completely. You let yourself believe him, even if just for a second.

You take a deep breath, wiping away the last of your tears. “Okay,” I whisper, not sure if you fully believe it, but willing to let yourself trust him for now.

Without another word, he leans in, kissing you gently at first, his lips warm and soft against yours. It’s a slow kiss, tender, and for the first time in a long time, you feel something—something real. Something more than just physical.

The kiss deepens slowly, and you let yourself get lost in it. It’s as though I’m letting go of everything that’s been holding me back—everything from my past—and just living in this moment with him. With Chris.

When you finally pull away, you’re both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. He whispers, “I’m here, Y/N. I’m not going anywhere.”

And for the first time, you believe him.

A quiet hum of electricity still lingers between the two of you. Your breath is shaky, your heart racing in ways you didn’t think was possible. You don’t want to break the moment, don’t want to let go of this feeling of closeness that’s been building ever since you two started talking. But Chris’s hand gently cups your cheek, and his thumb softly strokes the skin just below your eye as if to wipe away the last remnants of your tears.

He looks at you with an intensity you’ve never seen before. His voice is low, almost a whisper as he says, “You’re safe here, Y/N. No pressure. Just us. Only if you’re ready.”

You nod, swallowing hard, trying to steady yourself. "I trust you."

With that, his hand slides down to yours, guiding you gently as he helps you to my feet. There’s no rush, no urgency between you two. Just a quiet understanding, the weight of everything hanging between you without the need for words. You walk silently towards your bedroom, the space between you two filled with the warmth of each other’s presence. His fingers grab yours again, and it feels like more than just the touch—it feels like something you’ve needed for so long.

Once you reach your bedroom, the tension that’s been building between you two seems to melt into the air. It’s only the two of you now. There’s no one else. Just you, and Chris.

You both move toward the bed slowly. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, unsure but willing. There’s no pushing, no pressure. Everything feels… different this time. He’s not rushing you, not expecting anything. You just take a moment, letting the quiet wash over the both of you.

His hands are gentle, guiding you down onto the bed. He follows, settling on top of you. You’re nervous but not scared—this isn’t like the other times. This isn’t like before. His presence is comforting, and his touch is kind, every motion a quiet promise.

You both strip off your clothes, your eyes never leaving each other. You're both naked now, and you can't help but stare at Chris.

Chris smirks, wrapping his hand around his length. "You want this?" he asks, stroking himself slowly.

"Yes," you breathe, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Chris doesn't need any more encouragement. He positions himself at your entrance and slowly pushes inside. You gasp as he fills you up, your body stretching to accommodate him.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Chris groans, starting to move his hips.

You moan in pleasure, your nails digging into his back as he starts to thrust harder and faster. The bed creaks beneath you, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

Suddenly every worry escapes your mind, and all you can focus on is the pure ecstasy coming from you and Chris together.

As you both lay back, his arms find their way around you, pulling you closer until you’re tangled together. He presses a kiss to your forehead, soft and lingering, and you close your eyes, allowing yourself to relax for the first time in what feels like forever.

You feel him against you, his chest rising and falling in slow rhythm, and you let yourself be held in a way you’ve never let anyone hold you before. It’s safe here. It’s real. You both fall into that space between waking and sleeping, where the world outside doesn’t exist.

Chris’s hand moves up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his thumb brushing across your cheek as he looks down at you. “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs softly, almost as though he’s reassuring himself as much as he’s reassuring you.

You nod, the weight of the moment sinking in. Your breath slows, and you find yourself slipping into a peaceful sleep, with him beside you, his warmth a steady presence you didn’t know you needed so desperately.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

@mattsdillon @hesvoid3434 @admeliora94

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fandom #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo smut

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 11 months ago

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Hi! Can I request a mommy Wanda x fem reader where they’re at an amusement park and after awhile R gets overstimulated because the sun is sunning and there’s no clouds so she’s really hot and she’s also hungry and thirsty and her legs hurt but she doesn’t tell Wanda any of this because she gets really quiet/almost non-verbal when she’s overstimulated but Wanda is able to figure it out anyway? Much comfort and love 🤭💕

Mommy!Wanda Maximoff x autistic!fem!reader

Summary: It's time for a trip to the amusement park, but everything is overstimulating you.

Word Count: 1K

Warnings: Age gap relationship (W=34 R=23), Dom/sub dynamics(vague), comfort fic

Authors notes: I'm actually not a huge amusement park person (I don't like rides) so I hope this is good!

The sun blazed overhead as the bustling sounds of the amusement park surrounded you. The Avengers had planned this day off, a rare chance to relax and enjoy some fun together. It had started off great, with everyone in high spirits. Wanda had been especially excited, dragging you from ride to ride with a contagious enthusiasm.

But now, hours into the day, you felt the oppressive heat bearing down on you. Sweat trickled down your back, your mouth dry and throat parched. Your legs ached from the constant walking, and the cacophony of sounds—the shrieks of joy, the clanking of rides, the chatter of the crowd—felt like they were closing in on you.

You tried to keep a brave face, not wanting to ruin anyone's day. The others, including Wanda, seemed to be having such a great time. You didn't want to be the one to bring that to a halt. So, you stayed quiet, your usual chatter reduced to nearly nothing. You could feel yourself retreating into your shell, the overstimulation pushing you to the edge of being non-verbal.

Wanda, however, was incredibly perceptive. She had been keeping an eye on you throughout the day, and it didn’t take long for her to notice the subtle changes in your behavior. The way you trailed behind a bit more, the lack of response to her excited chatter, the small frown lines that had appeared on your forehead.

"Hey," she said gently, pulling you aside as the group decided on their next ride. She cupped your face with her hands, her touch cool against your flushed skin. "Are you okay?"

You forced a smile and nodded, but you could see the concern in her eyes. She wasn't buying it.

"Sweetheart," she said softly, "you don't have to hide how you're feeling. I can see you're struggling."

Your resolve crumbled a bit at her words, your eyes filling with tears. "I didn't want to ruin everyone's day," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wanda's expression softened even more, and she pulled you into a hug. "You could never ruin our day. If you're not okay, then we're not okay. Let's take care of you."

She led you to a shaded area, where you could sit down and take a break. The rest of the Avengers noticed and quickly joined, their concern evident.

"Hey, what's going on?" Natasha asked, crouching down beside you.

"Wanda thinks I need a break," you said quietly.

"Smart move," Tony agreed, handing you a cold bottle of water. "It's brutally hot out here."

As you sipped the water, feeling it cool your parched throat, Wanda sat next to you, her arm around your shoulders. "We're going to find some food and take it easy for a bit, okay?" she said.

You nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. The team's understanding and support made the heavy weight of overstimulation a little easier to bear. Wanda kissed your forehead, her touch grounding you in a way that nothing else could.

"Thank you," you murmured, leaning into her.

"Always," Wanda replied. "Your well-being is what's most important. We're here for you, no matter what."

With that, the Avengers rallied to make sure you were comfortable, taking the rest of the day at a slower pace, making sure you were hydrated, fed, and rested. The love and care they showed you made you realize that you were never a burden, and that taking care of yourself was just as important as having fun.

The day continued at a much more relaxed pace. Wanda stayed by your side, her arm wrapped around your waist as you both wandered through the amusement park. You had insisted that the rest of the team continue enjoying their day, reassuring them that you were in good hands with Wanda. They reluctantly agreed, but not without checking in on you periodically.

Wanda, being your girlfriend, never minded taking care of you. To her, you were her precious little girl, and she took great joy in making sure you were happy and comfortable. She suggested you both try the carnival games, and you eagerly agreed. You played game after game, laughing and cheering each other on.

You managed to win a few adorable squishmallows, each representing your favorite Avengers. You secured one of Wanda, Natasha, Cap, and Peter. Each time you won, Wanda's eyes would light up with pride, and she'd kiss your cheek, making your heart flutter with warmth.

As the sun began to set, the amusement park transformed. The rides and stalls were lit up with twinkling lights, casting a magical glow over everything. You and Wanda decided to take a leisurely stroll, enjoying the cool evening air. The day's heat was finally dissipating, and the breeze felt refreshing against your skin.

You started to feel the exhaustion creeping in, your steps becoming slower and more unsteady. Wanda noticed immediately and didn't hesitate to scoop you up into her arms. You wrapped your arms around her neck, your head resting on her shoulder.

"Looks like someone is ready to call it a night," she teased gently, her voice soothing.

"Mhm," you mumbled, already feeling your eyelids drooping.

Wanda carried you toward the parking lot, her gentle rocking motion lulling you further into a sleepy haze. The day had taken all your energy, but it was worth it. Spending time with Wanda, winning those silly squishmallows, and seeing the amusement park lit up at night—it had all been worth it.

As she walked, Wanda spoke softly to you, her voice a comforting melody. "You did great today, sweetheart. I'm so proud of you for pushing through. I hope you had fun."

"I did," you whispered, nuzzling closer to her. "Thank you for taking care of me."

"Always," she replied, kissing your forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too," you managed to say before drifting off completely.

By the time you reached the car, you were fast asleep in Wanda's arms. She gently placed you in the passenger seat, buckling you in securely. The rest of the team soon joined, and everyone exchanged quiet, tired smiles as they settled in for the drive home.

As Wanda drove, she kept one hand on the wheel and the other holding yours, your fingers intertwined. The squishmallows you had won sat in the backseat, a reminder of the fun and love that had filled the day. You might have used all your spoons, but with Wanda by your side, it had been more than worth it.

#ley answers anons #ley writes #ley writes drabbles #ley writes requests #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff #mommy!wanda #mommy!wanda maximoff #sub!fem!reader #sub!reader #autistic!reader #wanda maximoff x autistic!reader #autistic!fem!reader

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shana-reviews-tmblr · 5 months ago

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From Truth Seekers to Mastermind: How we've reached the halfway point of Stoliz

While there are many things I would love to bring up about Helluva Boss S2 Ep11 Mastermind and the pay offs it gave throughout the season, I want to focus specifically on Stolas and Bltiz's relationship as that is the heart of the story.

As we know Stolas and Blitz had an arrangement which allows Blitz to journey to Earth provided every full moon him and Stolas got freaky in the sheets.

at first this was treated as nothing more than a condition that enabled Helluva Boss' story to be set in motion as Blitz and I.M.P's job requires them to go to earth to assassinate people for clients in hell.

and for the most part, Blitz treated it as just a condition of their agreement, nothing more, thinking Stolas was simply just a royal who liked getting freaky with the lower class and as he put it "loved getting raw dogged"

However come S1 Ep6 Truth Seekers we got a glimpse that there might be more to this as during BLitz's hallucination where his inner truth was being shown.

it was during this that we see Blitz's view of Stolas or rather his desire to want to love him as he sees Stolas in an almost "angelic" view point

but as we see, he is unsure

of himself? of their relationship? of Stolas?

we don't know, but this is a turning point where BLitz wants to believe "maybe we could be more?"

the episode climaxes (ha) with Stolas saving I.M.P, as prior to that Blitz and Moxxie were captured by humans and with Millie and Loona were trying to escape but were cornered.

After Stolas saved them, for a brief moment Blitz believed that Stolas might have actually cared about him because why else save him?

and for a moment we assume the same as Stolas asks Blitz if he is alright

...until Stolas makes it clear, possibly unintentional as unfortunately our Bird Prince still has his aristocratic upbringing still part of his personality, "if YOU get in trouble, "I" get in trouble, WE don't want that" which made Blitz feel that all Stolas cared about was covering his ass which then has him retreat back into his shell, believing what he thought about Stolas was wrong, that there is nothing going on...

Nothing except their agreement, and despite him giving Stolas a kiss and being playful, it's Blitz giving Stolas a "Reward" for aiding them but with no real meaning, just Blitz living up to their end of the deal and in this case, trying to placate Stolas to calm him down.

What could have been a breakthrough instead was just a brief glimpse that neither side would notice.

and then came S1 Ep7 Ozzie's

We were clearly meant to see Blitz and Stolas as the focus this ep and it would be one that further showed how their relationship was not as ideal as either of them might have thought, in fact it is the total opposite of M&M's

Where Mox and Mill were affectionate, loving, and stood up for and with each other

When Stolas and Blitz were confronted and ridiculed by Ozzie and Fizz; Stolas was mocked for how even though he had a family, he was messing around with an imp for pleasure

and it was here that Stolas coward down and hid behind a menu out of shame

Blitz taking notice and thinking this as, once again, Stolas not being concerned for him or seeing him as someone he genuinely wanted to be with leading to Blitz feeling that once again that golden angelic view ha had of Stolas crumbles and it further pushed Blitz back to thinking there is nothing more to them, there can NEVER be anything more to them, and Stolas just cares about getting his fix from Blitz.

which is why at the end, even when Stolas was genuinely trying to salvage the night and wanted to reassure Blitz he did care; Blitz DID NOT want to hear it, Stolas had his chance, and he blew it.

and the sad thing is, Stolas knows this and both of them are left heart broken because Stolas genuinely wanted to have something with Blitz, but his cowardice hurt the person he cared about.

Meanwhile, Blitz was left alone that night to cry, feeling more unloved than ever before and after seeing pictures of his past relations, remembering the close ones he lost, he sees the one of his mom.

the last person up to this point Blitz knew truly loved him.

and in Blitz's mind, there is no one who would, could or should ever love him.

From there we have many more events that involved Blitz and Stolas's relationship growing, from Western Energy, to Oops, and eventually leading to Full Moon

these episodes have a storyline that show Stolas is coming to realize he can't keep things as they are between him and Blitz.

Seeing Stars was a brief moment where they worked together but with trying to find Via, they couldn't really handle the events at Ozzie's and the aftermath as they had to prioritize finding Via.

But it's during Western Energy where it left Stolas thinking Blitz no longer cared for him or was possibly, and likely, still upset over what happened at Ozzie's, which we see supported by the LONG PARAGRAPH of text Stolas sent to Blitz in an attempt to try and salvage that situation and make amends.

this all comes to a head when Stolas enacts a plan to free Blitz from their arrangement so they could truly try to see if they do love each other or if not, Blitz can have a means to keep his business going and not be tied to him.

To do this he went to Asmodeus to make a case to get Blitz an Asmodian Crystal which would legally allow Blitz to go to Earth as Imps are not allowed to have access to that kind of magic.

Sadly things wouldn't go good for either of them, again, as during the Full Moon, Stolas presented his gift to Blitz and after a series of unfortunate misunderstandings and flops from both sides, Stolas and Blitz would break up, and following the events of Apology Tour, Blitz would come to realize that Stolas truly was in love with him and what he felt back in Truth Seekers WAS true, but because of his pride, anger, and self-loathing, he pushed Stolas away and now he lost the chance to be with someone who truly loved him and it tore him up inside that he may never be able to get that back or even say he was sorry for hurting Stolas...and that he might have to let him go.

on the other side of this episode, Stolas now had his own "Truth Seeker" moment as his song All 2 U has him now looking at his time with Blitz and much like how Blitz had his inner truth and view of Stolas while also seeing it be shattered after his rescue.

Stolas's view of Blitz, or more likely his view of how they might have had something, also shattered, that maybe it was all a lie Stolas told himself, much like how Blitz tried lying to himself.

But then S2 Ep11 Mastermind happens

and we get the make-or-break moment between Stolas and Blitz

As I.M.P is being accused of stealing Stolas' grimoire to get to earth, Stolas steps in and saves Blitz from execution, not only that he takes ALL the blame for everything, as Satan, who is the judge of Blitz's trial, will not kill imps who follow the purpose he made them for which is "being obedient" and since Stolas is claiming Blitz did everything because Stolas ordered him to, all blame goes to Stolas and Blitz is let off the hook for following orders.

In a single moment Stolas proved to Blitz he still cares about him, it's left up in the air for now if he still has feelings for him after everything that's happened, but make no mistake, Stolas DOES CARE about Blitz and seeing this himself, Blitz's doubts are dispelled, more so now he feels maybe him and Stolas can try again or that there is hope for them, because now Stolas is left powerless.

Without a home, title, or anything, save for his daughter who is now in her mother's clutches, Blitz is all Stolas has.

and Mastermind ends with Blitz thanking Stolas for saving his life and Stolas weakly replying "always"

a very stark contrast to what happened back in Truth Seekers where it seemed Stolas only saved Blitz to save himself.

and where Truth seekers ended with Stolas and Blitz making out, we get a softer, more affectionate, more sincere gesture between them as Stolas, weary from having his powers taken and having had to process everything that has happened and what will happen, rests while Blitz gives him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

Season 2 really did a great job building up to this moment and it feels earned, Stolas and Blitz's relationship at first was built on an agreement born from the two wanting something from the other, but as they both questioned how things were and had a series of events that further showed how wrong their situation was and that for them to genuinely have something meaningful, they needed to change

now here comes mastermind paying off the long wait for what is essentially the halfway point of Blitz and Stolas's romance, they ended the arrangement, they broke up, and now are on the path of rediscovering who THEY are as people while along the way will discover how THEY can be as a couple, because Stolas is now living with Blitz and the two will soon see how the other acts, how the others personal life is when they aren't around each other, it will be challenging and we may see more bickering like an old married couple moments they will have.

But this is why I love the writing for Helluva Boss, because it does understand and know how to set things up and give those things a pay off as I hope I have shown in this long, VERY LONG, thread about the evolution of Stolas and Blitz's romance.

#helluva boss #helluvaverse #helluva boss stolas #stolas #stolas goetia #blitzø #stolitz #blitzo x stolas #helluva boss blitz #vivziepop #spindlehorse

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differentnerddiplomatopera · 5 months ago

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Odydio? Maybe 🤔

*Preparing for Palamedes Stoning

*Odysseus is rambling about something or the other*

-“Odysseus”.

-“Diomedes”.

*Diomedes looks towards Palamedes

-He was dead the moment he arrived on your shores. No. Oh no. Poor man, he was dead the moment he was considered to bring you to the war effort.

-Hm.

-Odysseus. When will you kill me?

-I’m sorry?

-Early apologizes, I see. When will I meet my end, disgraced, bleeding at your feet?

-Are you mad?

-Mad enough to understand you.

-Hm.

Pause.

-I will tell you.

-Tell me what?

-When you have become so insignificant, such a pathetic person. No more than a man, less than a dog. A shell of a once powerful man. I will tell you. And then, then I will ruin you. Because you became but an empty shell of maggots and death; nothing behind those eyes, nothing meaningful coming out of your mouth. You would have become so foolish. If you try to screw me, I might add. Crossing me, as you and I have seen, is the worst mistake man has made since men were made. I will tell you Diomedes. You would have become so dull that when I ruin you, you wouldn’t know. There. Happy?

-Very.

-Are you not going to respond in kind? Diomedes, don’t tell me that head of yours is-

-You love talking, do you ever shut up?

-If asked nicely. And given something special to earn my silence.

-I do. Have something, an idea of what I'd do.

-Please share.

-Hm. Fine. Odysseus, in the time I’ve known you, I have observed your love for games, tricks, schemes, machinations and the like.

-Oh wow-

-Hush. I will ruin your games. Tear your silks, shatter your masks, crash your festivities. I will slow down my pace, always two steps behind you, and I will drag you down. I will ruin your games, Odysseus. I will rip back the layers, peel the curtains, pray to Apollo to shine his light to expose for who you truly are. Who you are, what you are, I have no clue. But you must be dreadfully disgusting to hide behind those masks of yours. Ones that I am starting to differentiate and mark down into memory and notice.

Be proud of me Odysseus.

-I am.

-Quiet, an interesting look on you.

*Palamedes screams fill the background.

-Promise it. Diomedes, swear it to me.

-There it is.

-What?

-Your face, unabashed, naked.

-You’re the monster and the most beautiful creature, Diomedes.

-The poison and the remedy, all the same, Odysseus.

-All the security I lack, and all the danger I crave.

-Somehow constant, even though you are ever changing.

-Delectable, tasting of the most beautiful wine with the sharpest after bite.

-Uncomely, vile you are, Odysseus. And the most beautiful, perfect example of magnificent I’ve ever laid my eyes upon.

-Hm.

-I never stood a chance against you.

-And it would still be true, even with your poison down my throat.

-Poison you would let me feed you, because for some reason, you choose the option of suffering.

-Projecting your traits on me isn’t a good look.

Long Pause

-I would. Let you. He didn’t stand a chance.

Pause

Neither did I.

Found a post, can’t find the original poster. If you find it, please let me know. Here it is.

#odysseus #diomedes #odydio #tagamemnon #the iliad #They crazy #But maybe all the people who ship them are

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flokali · 2 years ago

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♢ Worship | Zhongli

Warnings: AFAB! Reader, Non/con -> Dub/con, Mind break (MC), Yandere, Cult AU, isekai, past violence towards MC, patronizing behavior towards MC, penetration, fingering, delusional behavior/thoughts from Zhongli, cum is everywhere, unprotected sex, dumbification (MC) (kind of), dirty talk, use of the c^nt, manipulation of MC, repetition, cock-drunk MC, desperate Zhongli, degradation towards MC (slut, liar, whore), implied exhibitionism, implied s.ex between MC and other Archons, unrealistic sex. Ask to tag!

Roles: Top! Dom! Zhongli | Bottom ! Reader

A/N: Here it is... it's definitely something new for me;; It's absolutely not for everyone and I am begging you to read the warnings, if this is too much for you do not read it! It's 100% fictional and falls under Dead Dove / Dark Content: it is not meant for anyone under the age of 18. Anon, ILY and you're the best... my beloved ! Took me forever to get this out, but here it is... yipe >_<

Word Count: 5.2k !

— Minors do NOT interact —

You were shunned away and hurt by those who you had once loved.

Already weak and alone, it was as if they took joy in seeing you despair, as if the way you crumbled around them was entertaining.

It hurts, oh Heavens above, you were miserable.

It wasn’t just physical, it was emotional and mental as well – every single weakness you possessed was exploited until you became a shell of yourself, your mind and body governed by fear and hatred and a need to survive, because you needed to survive. Even if it meant being reborn anew, you couldn’t let them win.

You couldn’t bring yourself to forget, it was all too painful, too cruel, too unjustified; they drove you to your limits and pushed you further until you broke. Until the person looking at you in the mirror looked like you, spoke like you, thought like you, but didn’t feel like you.

It’s why you couldn’t forgive the man standing in front of you, because deep down you knew he would have killed you if given the chance back then. You knew he held no regrets, that he’d do it all again to the next person who committed the crime of being deemed unworthy.

“I cannot,” your voice was assertive, or at least as assertive as you could muster in front of a God, “I… refuse to forgive you.”

“Please be reasonable,” Zhongli begs of you as he approaches you slowly, like a hunter would its prey, even if he claimed to think himself bellow you - you knew he held more power than you “we had no idea – I had no idea… if we’d known earlier, I swear upon Liyue Harbor itself, things would’ve been different.”

“And yet, time runs forwards,” you reply, slowly walking further away from the approaching man, or at least attempting to, but it was no use as he quickly makes his way closer to you, long legs and fit frame having no qualms in cornering you, “I have no use for ‘what if's’ or ‘could be’s’ - what is done is done, we have nothing to talk about, now let me leave because this is getting ridiculous.”

“My god is so stubborn,” he chuckles, acting as if your words meant little to him, something that greatly confused you - he spoke highly of you and yet seemed to think lowly of your person -, “I am afraid I don’t yet know if that’s something I like or not,” he mumbles that last part to himself before addressing you once more, “alas, I cannot let you leave until we reach a suitable agreement, your grace, you’re clearly not thinking clearly if you don’t see the multiple benefits that having me as your servant shall bring; with me by your side, you may as well be unstoppable.”

You scoff, a sense of disdain flows through your veins as you glare at him; you were slowly growing agitated by him and his presence, “First, you claim I’m your God and now you speak of me as an equal, as if I needed you - as if you had a right to speak to me at all -, what is it, Zhongli?”

He says nothing, his eyes take you in, you both know you’re cornered with nowhere to run, with you now completely at his mercy. It reminded you of the times he’d hunt you down with the intent to kill, if you were honest you much preferred the way he looked down at you back then than the current look in his eyes as he judged you with his eyes, as if assessing how worthy you were of his time albeit claiming servitude and humbleness before you.

“How utterly foolish, how… cute.” He chuckles, now only a mere inches away from your face. You hadn’t even noticed the stones he’d raised from the ground caging and forcing you into his proximity.

His hands, cold as they were, find their way to your cheeks. You attempt to swat his hand away but he’s simply too fast, quickly gathering both of your limbs and forcing them against his chest; the position was uncomfortable as you were forced to look up at his larger frame and feel his toned chest, a strange feeling was brewing in your lower region you desperately tried to ignore.

“Of course, you’re my God,” he says, his words serious, he spoke with such conviction it made your skin crawl, “and I’m your humble servant, which is why I am begging you to reconsider your opinion on not only myself but my people as well.”

“Absolutely not.” You accentuate your words, even if they come out a bit muffled from the way he gripped your face, to make your point loud and clear.

“Very well then, you leave me no choice,” he smiles and it sends a shiver down your spine because nothing good has ever come from someone smiling at you like that, “if you won’t let me worship you, then I’ll have to do it by force.”

His lips crash into yours but he makes no move to withdraw his hand from your cheeks, instead he uses it to press deeper into you - as if attempting to consume you whole.

You have no idea how long he’d been kissing you for, all you know is that his lips were devouring your own and that his tongue was battling with yours for control over your own mouth. The hand that grasped your wrist guided your hand to caress the archon’s chest, over his hardening nipples and around his pecs. There’s short intervals between kisses, but he doesn’t properly pull away until you’re begging for him to let you take in oxygen.

“Ah…” Zhongli finally pulls away to breathe, you’re in shock as you look at him, pure anger running through your veins, a complete contrast to the blissful look in his face as a blush overtakes his godly features, “You taste… divine.”

Ridiculous, Zhongli was being completely and utterly ridiculous! Making a joke, and a poor one at that, at a moment like this where he was doing this to you was incredulous. You wanted to scream at him, forcefully make him understand that you didn’t want him nor his sick worship and yet your body easily made way for him to slot his lips against yours once more as he parted them with a squeeze of your cheeks.

“Mhm~” You can’t help the moan that escapes your lips as you feel his tongue enter your mouth once more, “Ah, hmgh… humgh!”

Your back is flat against the wall, the Lord of Geo’s body effectively caging you in, and you have no choice but to part your legs as he places his knee between your own. You can barely breathe properly as he attacks your mouth, as if he’s making sure to explore it until he could map it out, his groping hand that had now left your cheeks and teasing touches don’t help at all as you feel yourself grow dizzy with unwanted arousal, a feeling shimmering in your pussy that has you unconsciously bucking your hips into his strong and firm limbs.

“You look so much better like this, Your grace,” he says as he takes a breather, his eyes – eyes you once adored back when you were home – glowed with arousal as he looked you up and down, “so quiet and docile, so obedient, it makes me want to eat you whole.”

“Rex Lapis! How dare you – ah, ha~ah!” You’re about to scold him and speak up when you break into yet another moan, you almost go cross-eyed as you feel his knee tease your neglected crotch; the cloth of his robes create a texture that feels heavenly against your hardening clit.

“Hmm? What is it, your highness?” He asks, feigning innocence as if he wasn’t the man responsible for your aroused state, “If you wish me to stop, speak up now before I get too, ah, excited.”

Zhongli once again doesn’t give you time to respond before he’s attacking your neck with fluttering kisses, “Come on, if you want me to stop,” he mumbled hungrily, it’s almost brutish the way he handles your body forcing jolts of arousal and pleasure to spark through your body, “say so.”

He’s challenging you to speak up, it’s as if he’s daring you to tell him to stop. He knows, the sick bastard knows that somewhere deep inside you - you still adore and want him, that a sick part of you wants to forgive him and be loved by him.

“Mora-ah~ !” You moan as he sucks at a particularly sensitive spot in your neck, his hands teasingly run across your thighs, caressing the skin in a seductive manner that has you trying to close your legs. Your core is slotted near his knee, where he can teasingly bump it up against it to give you momentary sparks of pleasure.

You want to scream at him to quit toying with you but you can’t formulate the words, not with the soft whimpers and groans you were letting out. He gives you a particularly strong bump, one where your clit — which was growing more sensitive by the second — and his clothed knee come into direct contact. You let out a particularly high pitched moan at that, the feel of his muscle against your lower lips simply intoxicating, that has Zhongli responding with a grunt of his own, something that sounded like your name rumbling from deep inside his throat.

“Such a slut for me,” he manages to get out, he’d been too busy teasing your skin with his teeth to comment on anything for a while, “such a good whore…”

It felt demeaning to be talked down to like that, especially by someone who claimed to wish to become your humble servant, but his words had a primal part of you beaming with satisfaction at being called good. You’re so taken aback by your own reaction you don’t notice him tugging at your robes and undergarments, not until he’s freed your cunt - allowing it to come in contact with the air.

“There we go,” he praises you, finally detaching himself from your neck, which was now littered with bruises and hickies, “your grace, I am truly honored… to be the first of your followers to make love to you…”

There’s a sick, almost delusional, look on his face as he breaks into a soft grin as he palmed your cunt, thick fingers gathering the slick that slowly poured out of your cute hole as it desperately tried grasping at anything.

His hand parts your legs further so he gains better access to your cunt, before he takes his free hand to properly caress your nerves. Slow and sensual movements against your clit and slit have you desperately bucking your hips to meet his fingers, he never inserts a full digit up your gummy walls instead opting to slowly work the opening by stretching your entrance and fingering you only up until his dip joint. Your arousal soon is leaking down your thighs and hitting the floor, making a mess of cum and love juice that would’ve made even the Devil blush, even the amount that escaped your soaking hole surprised, was it normal to be aroused enough to leak into the floor, you wondered.

“You’re ready,” you break out of the hazy mist of lust that clouded your mind as soon as you hear the man speak, “hah… I’ll… I’ll stick it in now, your grace… I’ll make sure to fill you up.”

“What…?” You manage to pant out, but he doesn’t answer you - instead he opts to free his hardened cock from beneath his clothes, a thick and long monster that sends a shiver down your spine as you questioned how he even thought someone could take it without hours of prep beforehand, and directs it towards your soaking entrance, “Z-Zhongli… don’t, please… you’re too big and… I’m not, I’m not ready… please, don’t… I’ll forgive you if you stop, stop! Just please, no… stop, I… I’m sorry, I…”

He pays your begging no mind as he slots his tip inside of your hole, which is enough to have you desperately clawing at his arms; “Hah, your highness… we - we’re becoming one…”

The Lord of Geo decides to ignore you, opting instead to slowly sink himself further into your gummy walls, even with the previous preparation and the slick you’d released your cunt was gasping in pain as you felt his thick dick enter your poor, tight pussy; before you knew it you were practically spasming around his length, awkwardly jolting and jumping as his cock slowly made its way past your tight muscles. The pleasant burn and torturous slow pace has you gasping and rolling your eyes towards the back of your head; he’s not even completely inside of you and you feel so… full. You don’t even want to imagine what it’d be like to have all of him inside you.

“Hah~ Hah,” you hear him pant beside your ear, his hot breath making you shiver, “you’re… tight…”

Your face is heating up at his words, it doesn’t help he’s slowly pressing himself deeper into your hole nor that he is slowly grinding himself against your walls in an attempt to ease your tense body.

“You’re t-too big…” You miraculously manage to get his hands off of you, “Fuck, get off… please… g-hgkh! ”

You trail off, too focused on the pleasure at hand to finish your thoughts. You didn’t want this, you didn’t want to have his dick inside you and yet your body sucked him in so greedily. You’re shaking and panting by the time he finally bottoms out, his balls hitting the fat of your ass with a soft thud that made your walls momentarily tighten at the lewd and erotic sound, it was too much and yet you were beginning to grow fond of the feeling of his cock bulging against your stomach.

Zhongli lets you sit on his dick for a while, allowing you to get accustomed to the feeling of fullness, probably trying to get used to the feeling of your warm walls encasing his dick, you try to pull him off you one last time but he doesn’t even budge, he’s too big, in retaliation, he gives a smooth roll of his hips that has his cock rubbing against every nook and cranny inside of you, including your special, spongy spot that had you seeing stars.

“U-ugh…” You let out a gurgle, you don’t want to admit it but the way his dick felt inside you had you seeing Celestia.

It’s the realization that he had no intention of letting you go un-fucked, and the shame of feeling aroused, that has you finally releasing the death grip you’d had on his arms, a sense of defeat and humiliation settled in your stomach; to preserve any reminder of your dignity it’s best you just let him use your hole like a toy. You’d denounce him, obviously, once the act was done and you’d have him sentenced, hopefully, to death for defiling you - that’s truly the only comfort you have.

It seems he takes your now compliant state as a go ahead to start moving. It’s painful at first, you’re overly aware of how his cock is moving inside of you and the feeling of pleasure is almost completely overshadowed by hatred and humiliation, your companion, however, seemed to be enjoying himself. You’re certain this whole event would be uncomfortable and unpleasant, you doubt you’ll even finish, or at least, you did until a particular thrust hit a particularly sensitive nerve that sent an aggressive wave of pleasure coursing through your veins, it’s blinding, it quite literally took your breath away as your brain struggled to process the unexpected yet erogenous sensation.

“S-shit!” You gasp, your whole body twitching. For a second, all thoughts left your mind, only a primal need to feel good again taking over as the wave rocked through your body, infiltrating every nerve and muscle, coursing through your brain as you desperately tried to prolong the almost intoxicating sensation. You don’t even realize how tightly your cunt is clutching his dick until he lets out a condescending, deep laugh.

“D-did you feel good, your highness?” His breath hits your ear and you suddenly feel overstimulated from your recent release and the feeling of his burning skin encasing you.

His words bring you back to reality and you have to restrain yourself from biting a chunk of his skin, you’re still trying to come back from your high, a high you desperately wanted to deny; “A-as if, hah, a monster-r such as yourself could pleasure me… f-fuck!”

“Is that a challenge, your grace,” he asks, golden eyes narrowing in amusement, , “if so,” he adjust your position, suddenly your legs are no long touching the floor as he’s taken them into his arms, his hands hold your knees so you can’t fall nor escape his brutal thrusts, you’re at his mercy, “I won't back down.”

That’s the start to an agonizing pace, one where he’d give deep, sensual thrust into your pussy - he’d start of slow, making sure you felt every vein and bump that made up his cock -, and then pick up the pace momentarily with short yet precise, rapid thrusts that had you bouncing in his arms like a rag doll.

“Do you like it, my beloved?” He lets out as he desperately tries to coax a confession of pleasure out of your lips, keenly aware of the way your insides became harder to exit the more aroused you were, “If, ha-ah, if I pleasure you like this everyday, you surely will forgive me, r-right?”

You’re too preoccupied with the way Zhongli’s hardened length rubbed a particular spot inside your walls that had your legs tensing helplessly in his grasp to answer; you could feel a ball of uncomfortable pleasure build up in your lower region that had you panting the more it grew.

Your thoughts were slipping away as the man lowered his hand to toy with your hardened clit, you felt like you were about to cum from that ministration alone but you helplessly try to stop yourself; you’re certain that if you cum even once you’d completely lose yourself, it was already hard enough not to beg for him to stop teasing you and fuck you properly as it was, and you’re certain that the minute your slick coats his dick, you won’t be able to stop yourself from begging to be fucked like an animal in heat. But it was so hard, so terribly hard, especially when he began kissing and teasing the hickies he’d previously painted over your body, the added feeling of your clit being rubbed as your cunt was being pounded into in different rhythms had you bucking your hips to meet his own - even a second without his cock inside of you was becoming unbearable, you… you needed his dick, you needed to feel good.

You wanted to sob from the frustration of the never ceasing pleasure that was building inside you, you wanted to cum so bad you were growing desperate, not even realizing your hips had begun moving on their own in an attempt to hurry up your release. You don’t think you’ve ever been so sexually frustrated, continuously growing restless as your head began clouding from pleasure.

It’s as if he was reading your mind because as soon as the thought hits you, he moves near your ear to moan in a low voice; “Go ahead, my love, cum for me… just know that if you do, I’ll take it as an invitation to become yours… Come on, make this dick yours, I… ha-ah… I know you want to.”

Wasn’t that so lovely? Wasn’t that such a wonderful agreement; in exchange for your slick, you would have one of the greatest cocks in the continent as your own personal servant!

Because it was what you deserved right? After all those months of pain and hurt, you deserved to feel good and be loved like you always were meant to be loved.

Zhongli notices your apprehension and he doesn’t blame you, but he was going to make things right; he had to, no matter what, no matter how, no matter what it takes, he will make it up to you. Even if it meant lowering himself from the status of Archon, even if he had to apologize and beg.

“I’m so sorry,” he begins mumbling into your skin as his cock keeps abusing your hole, he knows it’s an underhanded method but he doesn’t care, he meant every word he said - even if his way of showing his feelings was wrong, “you didn’t deserve any of it, no… y-you should be worshiped, you’re – fuck! You’re my savior, you’re everything to me, everything… I love you, I love you, I-I’m y-yours,” your cunt unwillingly clenches at that, “I-I’m yours to do as you please… you’re so good to me, so good… Come on, cum on me, use my cock… Allow me to repent for my actions, you will - won’t you?”

As one of his hands continues to rub your clit, the other supports your body weight, he doesn’t even seem to break a sweat as he holds you and fucks himself silly inside your tightening cunt.

There’s something about his desperate tone, the way he whines into your skin in between kisses and sucking, that has you believing his words; maybe he was regretful, maybe he did see what he did wrong, he was clearly trying to make it up for you by having sex with you, right? This was okay, right? He was sincere, you both knew he held a deep hatred for his actions, he’d been begging to see you ever since he’d learn of your true identity, he’d sent you gifts and offerings in an attempt to swing your favor; Rex Lapis didn’t do that for anyone, Zhongli didn’t do that for anyone.

He kept going on and on about how sorry he was, how desperate he was to feel you cum on his cock, how badly he wanted to serve you, how much you meant to him, how everything he ever did was for you; he loved you, he needed you, he wanted to be with you, he needed to be with you. His voice was growing raspy and whiny, a completely new side to the normally composed and cool Zhongli you were used to.

His words begin to seep into your brain, his admissions of guilt, his declarations of love, the way he begged you to take him as your own.

“I-I feel your pussy tighten,” he mumbles, “you’re so… you feel so good, mhm… I’ll be yours, I’ll make it up to you, everything – Please, s-shit, let me be yours, I want to be yours, allow me to serve you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“Zh-zhongli…”

“Your grace,” he moans and you can feel the way his body shudders as you whimper his name, “I’ll do anything for you, please - please, ha~ah?! Make me yours, let’s cum together, please, I want to cum inside you, I want you to come… If I make you cum, you’ll let me serve you, right? M-my lord, mine, mine… I’ll claim you as mine, my own god, only m-mine, mhm-mmph… I’ll make it up to you, you’ll be mine, you’ll love me, you’ll love me-ah, we’ll do this e-everyday a-and you’ll be mine, hah~”

You felt the last of yourself break as the words he whispered made your cunt squirt all over the Archon, the one who’d hunted you for sport, made your life a living hell, who’d offered his body and power as an apology; he now stood with his hips and pelvis covered in your cum.

“C-cumming! Ah, ah-hah… I’m cumming, ‘m cumming, shit! I’m cumming on your c-cock! Hah, hah… ah~ah, ghk-k!”!

Yet you couldn’t stop, your poor pussy kept leaking as you convulsed from the intensity. It didn’t help that Zhongli made a point of pressing himself as deeply as he could inside of your pussy, as if trying to penetrate your womb with the tip of cock.

It’s as if your body had been lit on fire, your body twitches and turns as you gush all over the floor, it’s an electrifying feeling as you give up control and succumb to pleasure.

Cock, you were cumming on Zhongli’s cock, on the man who wanted you dead only a few weeks ago, you were on his cock, his cock was inside you, your cum was coating his cock - the cock that was humping your pussy, the man who was groping you, the one who’s threatened to kill you. You could only think about his cock, the big, long, thick, fat cock that had you drooling over yourself. You didn’t know what was leaking out of your pussy, it kept coming and coming out, coating the Archon’s lower half with your love juices - your legs hurt as you tensed and twitched and your nipples and clit all felt painfully hard.

It takes you a few seconds to stop cumming and yet, even as you were held in his arms panting from the feeling, you weren’t tired – in fact, you don’t think you’d ever felt better.

It seemed the man balls deep inside of you was feeling the same way for it doesn’t even take him more than a minute to start bouncing your limp body on his cock once more.

“More… I want more, more, wanna… wanna cum again.” You’re too out of it to realize you were speaking your thoughts, too desperate and drunk on the feeling of sex and the pleasure it was bringing you to feel shame.

Even though your body felt heavy as lead, you weakly try to match the rhythm set by Zhongli with your hips, desperately searching for the pleasure he’d given you minutes before.

If you’d been looking at his face, you would have been able to see the look of surprise that washed over his handsome features; was this really you? Had it truly only taken you a good fuck to temper you out? His golden eyes seem to glow brighter as his excitement grows, his dick somehow hardening even more albeit still being inside of your warmth. He takes it as a sign to adjust your body one more time, taking you in his arms once more and allowing him to bounce you on his cock like a toy.

You’re too sex-brained to fully comprehend what was going on, only truly thinking with your cunt - desperate to feel the white ball of pleasure explode inside of you once more and to feel Zhongli coat your insides with his cum.

“Ha-ah, Zhongli,” you whine, your voice comes out airy and unsteady as your whole body bounces on his dick, “p-please… c-cum inside me! ‘Wanna feel your cum inside my pussy, pl- fuck! Ah, ah - feels good, your cock feels so good! ‘m gonna cum again, wanna cum with you… hah, hah, l-let’s cum together…!”

You can feel his breath hit your neck as he nuzzles into into your shoulder, an airy chuckle soon followed by teasing words;

“I-I, hmm… I thought you’d never f-feel pleasure from a monster such as myself,” his voice is raspy as if he were barely containing himself, “my grace is such a g-greedy liar…”

As if to prove his point he gives you a particularly rough thrust, one that has you seeing black as your eyes roll back from the pleasure.

“P-please… I want your cum inside of me, ghk! Want your cum, wanna feel your cum on my pussy, wanna be your… your, wanna…! Fuck, you feel s-sho’ good, so go~oh~od, aha, ahhhh…!?”

“Don’t worry, my beloved,” he breathes out, hurrying the pace of his hips, he never fully removes his cock from you, instead opting for shallow thrusts that are aided by the length and girth he possesses, “my only wish… is to serve you.”

You can’t even respond as one hand comes to massage your breast and the other lowers itself to play with your clit, the added ministrations have you panting and desperately grinding yourself against the Archon; your body felt like it was on fire from the heat that bloomed from where your two bodies became one.

“‘M close, ‘m gonna cum inside you.”

Those are the only words you have to brace yourself before hot, sticky cum is shot inside your aching body, painting your pink insides white with his depraved love. He doesn’t say anything, his own brain seemingly turned into mush, only capable of low groans and moans that border on animalistic while he made sure to press himself as deep as he humanly could, making sure that not a drop of the cum you’d asked for escaped your greedy hole.

As he rides off his high, emptying his balls inside of you as he softly rocked your body, you can feel your sex clench and slick begin to ooze out of your cute hole. He notices it, and begins rubbing your clit in an attempt to coax you into cumming for him. His finger feels heavenly as he rubs it in quick, fluid motions across your clit and vulva, the cum from your previous release and the overflowing left overs from his own aid you as your feet begin to curl and a ball of pleasure that had been growing inside your lower half finally explodes and you cum one more time on Zhongli’s cock.

Albeit not nearly as sudden nor shocking as the first one, you’re still left a twitchy and aching mess as your legs fall limp in your captor’s arms.

But after tonight, your brain could hardly process him as a threat, everything before the second he’d inserted his dick inside you felt like a distant nightmare, the man who now cradled your body was no longer your enemy - not now, not to you. Your eyelids feel heavy and you’re beginning to doze off as you feel a sloppy kiss be left on your cheek, you look up at Zhongli for the first time since he’d started to fuck you.

His pale skin is burning pink, sweat rolls off his handsome features, his lips look rosy pink and you can see faint bites on them from when he desperately contained his moans, he looked nothing like the God who’d terrorized you previously; his eyes were the easiest give away, however, where they once were full with hatred and disgust, they now shined with passion and servitude.

In his mind, he’d earned your forgiveness, the debauched act of taking you against your will was his last ditch attempt at making things right, and so from today onwards, in his perturbed mind, he was officially your first follower in the continent of Teyvat and most devout worshiper.

“Mhm…” A smile blooms on his lips as he squeezes your ass, the geo wall vanished and you’re left clinging to Zhongli as he adjusts his cock inside of you, the soft movement has you jumping from overstimulation, your sex drunk look endears the Archon as he duly noted his guests’ footsteps approaching, “let’s show them how to properly serve you, shall we?”’

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ghcstao3 · 1 year ago

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Ghost goes to the bar to drink to Soap's memory where he finds... Soap? Only he is there to drink in the memory of Ghost. Neither of them have any idea of how and why, but they aren't protesting. It's nice to see a familiar face as they mourn together.

cw for unhealthy coping mechanisms

it’s also just kind of. sad 🧍‍♀️my fault for writing memory loss

Ghost knows it isn’t a healthy decision but it’s… about the only way he can stand thinking about it. Thinking about Soap.

Because really, drinking is a barrier. It’s said it removes inhibitions, and sure, that’s true—but it also provides a filter for his grief whether or not he runs his tongue, and that obstacle before a feeling such as mourning is all he needs. It’s all Ghost craves, in a sense.

There’s no world worth existing in peace without Soap.

As per a new and frowned-upon routine by Price, Ghost seeks out a new bar or pub to drown nagging thoughts and lingering memories until it’s time to go home and fail to fall asleep sober yet again. Ghost isn’t proud of himself in the slightest, knows he’s ruining everything Soap had rekindled in him, but it’s too late to care.

He’s alone again. He’s nothing more than the shell of a man again.

But then, maybe three or four drinks in (Ghost doesn’t know, he’s long since stopped counting during his outings), someone slips into the stool beside him and flags down the bartender. This isn’t a major revelation or anything, it’s just… strange. No one has ever dared be in close proximity with Ghost in his time mourning.

Ghost can’t find it in himself to care, though. Not until this new person speaks, and it feels as if the haze of alcohol over Ghost’s mind evaporates in an instant.

He snaps his gaze to the man beside him, wondering if he’d just been imagining things, but no—it’s Soap, somehow. The very man Ghost came here to forget. To remember.

Before Ghost gets the chance to say something, Soap seems to catch his eye and turns to face him. He offers a bright smile, though it’s nothing quite as blinding as it had once been.

Soap’s grown out his beard and his skin’s a little sallow, and not to mention the grisly scar at his temple—but it’s still Soap. Certainly not healthy, but… alive.

“What brings you here, handsome?” Soap is asking, gently nudging Ghost’s shoulder.

Ghost wants to scoff. He wants to both tease and scold Soap for flirting with him just as Ghost is only learning that Soap isn’t dead, but he doesn’t.

Instead, Ghost treads warily. He plays into whatever game this is supposed to be.

“I’m grieving,” Ghost tells him flatly.

“Oh.” Soap’s face falls. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Ghost shrugs, though his heart is in his throat. Is this some kind of a joke?

The bartender delivers Soap’s drink, and Soap doesn’t offer more than a nod of acknowledgement.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Soap says, slowly tracing the rim of his glass, “I’m… also grieving.”

At this, Ghost cocks an eyebrow. Something feels… off, about what Soap is saying, but inebriated, Ghost just can’t quite put a finger on it.

“…well, maybe grieving is the wrong word,” Soap mumbles. “I don’t… I don’t know if he’s dead, but I—I don’t remember him. I don’t remember him, but I know he was important to me, so… it only feels right.”

And isn’t that bitter.

Here Ghost mourns a man he loved, and when he learns said man is still alive—he doesn’t even remember Ghost.

But Ghost has already dug his grave. He’s already miserable. So all he can do is torture himself further.

“Tell me about him,” Ghost suggests. “What you think you know.”

Soap looks at him in a way that hurts, but Ghost listens anyway when he begins talking. When he begins recounting the tiniest details, vague memories that seem too foggy to have been truly lived by himself. Soap orders a second drink at some point, and Ghost his fourth (or fifth).

That’s when Soap suddenly cuts himself off, completely angling himself toward Ghost. Ghost acts like he doesn’t notice Soap almost reaching out to set a hand on his forearm.

“—you know what… you look really familiar.” Soap is frowning, brows furrowed like he’s trying to piece something together. “Have we met before?”

And because Ghost is a cruel man, he just shakes his head. Offers nothing more than a curt, “No, we haven’t.”

Soap sighs, almost disappointed. “Well, in that case—I’m John.”

Ghost peers down at the hand Soap holds out to be shaken, but he can’t budge from his spot to hold it. He’s almost… afraid of the touch, like the contact might reveal to him that Soap isn’t really here at all.

Soap gets the hint eventually, though he isn’t at all deterred. Especially not when Ghost supplies him, “Simon.”

“Simon,” Soap echoes, expression drifting far away for just a moment. Nearly reminiscing. “I like that.”

Ghost huffs, something that could be interpreted as a laugh by a certain someone, once upon a time.

Soap clinks his glass against Ghost’s before downing the rest of his drink. He bumps Ghost with his elbow, teasing.

“To mourning,” Soap explains.

Ghost nods. Hums, “To mourning indeed, Johnny.”

He pretends not to notice the curious look that crosses Soap’s face at the use of the nickname.

Ghost already has more than enough to process first.

#ask #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghost x soap #ghostsoap #ghoap #writing

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yanderes-galore · 1 year ago

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Yandere concept for Sans Undertale with Broken! Darling? I really love you writing and thank you for your hard work!!

Ooo~ I see you've given me more angst material. This may be short... but I hope it's an idea that's intriguing >:) I'm happy you enjoy my work, people like you are the reason I write.

Yandere! Sans The Skeleton with Broken! Darling

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Kidnapping, Denial, Manipulation, Mind break (Darling), Dark themes, Trauma implied, Dissociation implied, Stockholm syndrome implied, Guilt, Forced relationship/companionship.

I'm going to be honest, if Sans broke his darling it could go one of two ways.

You reciprocate... or become a husk of your former self.

The second option would be the one to break him too.

Sans himself is already under a ton of mental strain.

RESETS are a big cause of this.

Normally, Sans wouldn't get to this point.

His obsession over you normally doesn't result in kidnapping.

Although... I suppose it could if the normally laid-back skeleton managed to snap.

Even then, due to his nature he plays it off when he first brings you home.

It's eerie how casual he is with it, admitting that you now live with him and the doors are blocked off by bones....

Despite his laid-back nature, that does nothing to ease your mental state.

In fact it may make it worse.

First of all, you can just tell something deep in Sans changed to cause him to do this.

He's once again masking his true emotions about you, always trying to distract you from the fact he kidnapped you.

This works for either intention he has.

He just can't deal with only watching anymore.... he just had to have you.

Which eventually leads to your slow mental decline and break-down.

To get to such a point you'd have to go through a lot.

Several escape attempts... a ton of pleading... the isolation of it all....

For you to break you'd have to feel helpless.

Considering how powerful Sans really is, there's a good chance you aren't leaving if he doesn't want you to.

I personally feel Sans would feel bad and try to work things out before you get to such a point.

However... maybe things go too far.

Maybe Sans accidentally breaks his dearest.

Eventually they'll realize that escape isn't happening.

Not unless he allows it.

Such a thought may be enough to break you since Sans also dislikes punishment.

Soon you'll just... give up.

It really isn't worth it anymore, is it?

Isn't accepting your fate better?

Maybe then you can go outside.

Now, if you break and end up reciprocating, Sans is guilty but pleased.

He feels bad since he knows what was done to get you to this point.

Although, he tries to ignore such thoughts by distracting himself with you.

After all... now you love him, right?

The love may be artificial and not genuine... but perhaps it can be enough to soothe his own pain.

Then there's the opposite, you break and just... aren't you.

You're a shell of your formal self, you're there physically... not mentally.

You can no longer cope with this stress, soon Sans realizes this when it's too late.

You're like a living doll.

He can feed you, hold you... but you won't speak.

You're both you... and not you.

This would break Sans as he knows he's lost you.

There's no coming back from this, it becomes the only time he wishes for a RESET.

After all... then he could have you back.

This outcome he'd regret much more.

For him... this may be worse than you dying.

This second outcome is a constant reminder of what he's done...

Leading him to keep such a memory forever, even after a RESET if it ever happens.

#yandere undertale #yandere sans #yandere sans the skeleton

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browneyedboys · 2 years ago

Text

will you walk me home

you can find my other work here!

Pairing: rafe cameron x reader

Warnings: cursing, frat parties, light discussion of alcohol, overall fluff (let me know if you find something else)

Word count: 2.3K

Synopsis: Second chance encounters with Rafe Cameron lead to discussions of fate and the idea of what happens when you go to frat parties. (second part to libraries after midnight)

a/n: okay so maybe this will be a series?! I'm having fun with this concept and I still promise nothing, feedback is always appreciated!

The next time you see Rafe Cameron, only a few days later, you’re celebrating. The conclusion of midterms means that you’re slightly less stressed on a daily basis, a cause for celebration. You manage to convince Paige, your big, and some other girls to go to a Phi Gam party with you, only slightly hoping to run into your favorite golden boy.

An hour or so passes and you’ve managed to go from sober to a flushed, giggling mess. Alcohol always manages to get your blood pumping to exactly where you don’t want it. The loud bass booms through the house and seems to come to rest in your lungs. It’s as they’ve developed their own beat. The slightly suffocating feeling manages to suck you back into reality; you need some air.

“I’m going to step outside for a few minutes,” you call to Paige, watching as she nods and turns to some of your sisters you both had been dancing with before. Shoving through the crowd, you pick up on the panicky feeling in your chest. There are too many people close to you, it’s too loud, and you’ve already had a big week.

You finally reach the back door of the house, pulling it open in time to quell your beating heart. You usually excel in social situations, well at least enough to where you enjoy yourself. It seems with the intensity of the week a party wasn’t the best idea. Finding purchase on a brick retaining wall, you bring your knees to your chest and settle your head into the space between. The 4-7-8 count of breath that you learned for your anxiety helps a bit.

Four seconds you breathe in, seven you hold it in, eight you let it go. Crowds never were your thing. Alcohol never really lets you free, it just makes you more giggly or sad, depending on the week. This week it leaned more towards the latter and the crowd around you came crashing down.

“Hey, you okay?” You’re pulled from your breathing exercise, and in consequence from your thoughts. Lifting your head out of your knees, you find the perfect picture of Rafe standing before you. He holds a drink in his hand, his eyebrows pulled together as he maintains his gaze on you. Blinking, you extract your gaze from him, returning to your shell.

You nod, a bit too quickly to be convincing, then resume your attempt to regain your breath. “I just…” you pause, marveling at the breeze on your arms, “I’ve never really gotten used to being in a crowd of people yet never feeling more lonely, you know?”

Rafe exhales, you watch him shift foot to foot through the little crack between your legs. His feet then step and disappear as you feel the warmth that radiates off of him settle beside you. A hand comes to rest between your shoulder blades, thumb tracing the juts of your spine.

It’s so quiet behind the booming house you can nearly hear his breathing. You make your best effort to match your own breath to the rhythmic pace of Rafe’s thumb. As it swoops up the valley of your spine you pull air in, down you purse your lips and exhale. Little else seems to pull your thoughts from how nice it is to find peace in another person’s presence.

You’re so used to putting on a front or willing more energy to meet the expectations of others. All your life, it has felt like only a select few people truly manage to see how you are. Unbothered in the natural state, you feel at ease with this boy you’ve only really talked to twice. It’s an entirely cliche thought — but it feels like you’ve known him your whole life. You’re not sure if romantic soulmates exist but they have to in some capacity. People just seem to fit together in such unique ways, it can’t be only a billion coincidences.

It would crush your soul to learn that the little connections in daily life happen due to mere circumstance. Like people on their deathbed call out to god — you can’t go about your life with no strings. It’s a terrifying thought that nothing draws people together. Fate has to exist.

“What’s pulling you from life?” Rafe voices barely louder than a whisper. The rises and falls of his speech fits right in with the atmosphere around the two of you.

You lift your head from your legs, resting your chin on your knees. You tilt your head to the side until you’ve squished your cheek just slightly, taking in the way Rafe’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Does it freak you out how many people live on this spinning ball? How every decision you make affects the entire trajectory of your life? How you could pass by the person you belong with because of something stupid?”

“Woah,” Rafe exhales, softly grinning at you, “That’s a minor crisis, I try not to think about everything too much. It’s so much easier to go about day to day life not in my own brain but sometimes I do think about that. I like to think that everything happens for a reason, even something stupid.”

You nod along with his words, if anything, Rafe seems to agree with you.

“I mean even just me walking out here at the moment when I saw you could be seen as some twist of fate. It’s really easy to get lost in the world at times but I try to not overthink everything. How would you even know that they’re the person you belong with until you take the time to get to know them.”

“But fate has to play a part, right?” You question, lifting your head from your knees. You shift to sit like a pretzel carefully balanced on the wall.

The uncertainty of your voice throws Rafe for a loop. This version of you is starkly different to the girl who told off his dad a few days ago. The crease between your eyebrows beckons him to solve all your problems like you tried to do for him. With a gentle manner, he smooths out the creases with his thumb. “That’s up for you to decide, honey. If fate is something that makes you feel better about the world then there is no harm in believing in it. What’s the difference between believing in fate and believing in a god? Both offer the same reassurances about what we don’t know.”

“Sometimes it feels like I don’t know a whole lot.” You murmur, the air gains a chill as your words leave your lips. October means the changing of the seasons and a whole lot of things to look forward to, but right now it's all a bit too much. Life feels so demanding.

Rafe’s thumb traces your brow, pausing on your temple. Warmth cascades down the side of your face before his hand eventually settles, cupping your jaw. “You don’t have to know anything,” Rafe hums, “I mean you’re what, 20? You still have the rest of your life to figure it out.”

“I’m usually a giggly drunk,” you complain, leaning into the warmth of his hand on your face. Your eyes flutter every so slightly as the week seems to catch up to you. It’s so nice to have somebody out here with you. It would be too cold on your own. Even the pause between your own speech feels right. You don’t overthink your every movement around the golden boy. “What happened to me?”

The weight of your head in his hand prompts Rafe to shift closer to you. Your knee overlaps his thigh as you lean into his touch. “I’m sure you’ve had a long week; you’re probably exhausted and then you got overstimulated in there.” He’s so tempted to draw you into his arms and never let you go. He could spend a lifetime protecting you, like the way you did against his dad. “Maybe you should get some rest, call it an early night from the thrills of Phi Gam.” He proposes when the moments when your eyes are closed outweigh the moments they’re open. Rafe feels a new tug in his chest. He thinks an invisible string might tie your pinky to his.

Your eyes meet his. You trace the shadows across his face, sharply contrasting to how he looked the last time you saw him. Maybe if you spend enough time noting the way he looks at you you’ll understand what it is you're feeling. The feeling that prompts you to ask, “Can you walk me home again?”

Rafe’s quick to agree, with a short, “Of course, honey.” It turns your insides gooey like his term of endearment. You could get used to Rafe’s company. As you both stand, his hands leave a cold trail in their absence.

The boom of the party increases as you make your way back towards the house. The lawn, green in the way that only money can achieve, is littered with far more people than when you first pushed through the doors. Perhaps everyone realized just how suffocating the air is inside. You glance over your shoulder as you step back inside, double checking that Rafe is behind you. Or maybe it's just an excuse to take another glimpse at the golden boy. The too warm air rushes into your lungs. It stinks of too many bodies who are at least a little wasted.

He smiles at you, dropping his lips to your ear. “Do you need to make your rounds and say goodbye?” Rafe’s whisper elicits goosebumps. You shake your head; you can just text Paige that you went home. It’s not like you’re the designated driver or that you were incredibly drunk. It’s too loud for you to vocalize your entire thought process so you just continue through the house. Rafe’s hand find’s purchase on the small of your back as the people get denser. His thumb resumes its pace from earlier, moving back and forth.

Rafe has come to recognize the scrunch between your eyebrows as a stress indicator. Watching the way it dissolves slightly as he guides you through the house, only for your brows to pull together as a person stills your path. Preston, Rafe’s fraternity brother stands in front of the pair of you.

“Cameron!” Preston calls out. “I’ve missed you buddy. Where’ve you been?” He sways back and forth with the constitution of a giraffe. Rafe has always had a soft spot for Preston; they went through rush together and endured some stupid shit. He is the closest thing that Rafe has to a family out here.

“Hey Preston, I’m going to walk Cory home and then I’ll be back okay. We can hang out after that.” Rafe answers in what he hopes will be both his first and last response. He can tell you just want to go home.

Your eyes follow Preston as he stills, seemingly realizing that you’re right in front of him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Cory, Rafe’s asked me a hundred questions about you since that one night.” The implication of his statement hangs in the air, swirling with the idea of Rafe thinking of you as much as you think of him.

“Oh, it’s great to meet you too!” You flash him a smile before glancing over your shoulder, wanting nothing more than to catch Rafe looking even a little bit flustered. It’s nice to know that you’re not the only one a little hung up on your shared interactions. Rafe meets your eyes with a faint grin. He doesn’t look pink but you miss the way he shook his head when Preston said what he did. He’s had a few seconds to recover, for which he is eternally grateful.

“Well good night,” you duck around Preston, who has grown distracted by the lights dancing across the ceiling. Once you make it to the front of the house your idea of the night comes crashing back on you. Midterms and their conclusion was supposed to mean a break from the chaos that is your life but you seem to attract just a bit of chaotic energy wherever you go.

The air has grown chillier in the few minutes you made your way through the frat house, or perhaps you got used to the stale air inside. Either way goosebumps creep up your arms, something Rafe notices with a surprising amount of speed. He shifts closer to you as you walk towards Pi Phi’s house, moving his arm from your back to your shoulders. He draws you ever so slightly towards him.

Something about the ease you seem to instill in him causes Rafe to be a bit more direct. “Preston really did just call me out, but he’s right, in all his tipsy truth, I do like you…”

His honesty catches you off guard. “Rafe.” The short walk concludes as the pair of you draw on the start of the walkway to your house. You step out of his bubble, “I—”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he interrupts with a finger gracing your lips, it tugs your bottom lip with a comforting heaviness, “I just wanted you to know. You’ve had a long night and I’m sure you need a few days to process everything. Goodnight Cory.” Rafe takes a step back from you, his finger falling from your mouth. He hesitates just out of reach.

Against his better judgment he quickly takes a step forward and presses a chase kiss on your forehead. Warmth blooms from the spot where his lips made contact long after his figure retreats back to his frat house. It stays even after you wash your face and put on your matching pajama set. In bed you trace the spot with a memory, smiling yourself into a dream filled night.

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