#now that all the other souls from there have become something else
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Yandere Hybrid Town (3) | Only Human
Part One, Two
Before your fateful encounter that led to the attention of your loyal canine neighbors and the adoring affection of cow-woman- Eudora you were left to your own devices. Managing your own chores and the sprucing up of your newly inherited property. But it’s exhausting working day in and out on such a big project; it’s a given that you search for something else to do. Something to keep the loneliness at bay as you endure the sneers and snickers from the townspeople. Specifically found in one of the most abandoned spots of the whole town the library.
Ring Ring
“Hello is anyone in here?....Well if you are I’m just going to find what I need and check it out at the desk!”
Typically this would seem presumptuous for anyone to do but you had a sneaking suspicion your human status might have something to do with the missing librarian. Nonetheless, you did what you said grabbing a small amount and writing on the ledger conveniently left on the desk. Filling it out hoping that whoever was responsible for the neatly kept interior within the run-down library would realize you’d taken the initiative to borrow. Unbeknownst to you igniting a chain reaction for those who bear witness.
“Did they…take a book?”
“T-t-they took four!”
“Oh, goodness!?”
Now there were quite a few curious souls that looked at you without contempt as they spied on you flipping through your latest borrows as you made your way to your car but none as eager as the librarian himself. It wasn’t bizarre that someone would come into the library to borrow a book…what was odd was that a newcomer had come for it and had full intentions to return.
“I-it’’s them!?? They’re coming back!”
“Eeek I’ll have to hide!”
Ring Ring
“If anyone’s here I’ll just do what I did last time.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you think you see some kind of appendage but when you turn to follow you find nothing but another row of books. Still oblivious to the hybrid practically gone into heat at the close encounter, they watch you leave once again.
“They nearly saw my tail!”
“T-that has to mean s-s-something good, right?”
The few citizens of the town who frequented the library considered themselves to be of a different variety than the plebians rest of the town. A more enlightened group that relied on their vast collection of books to inform their decisions. All led by the very man given the honor to run the library.
“All rise for the great Stein!”
“Rest your heads, my enlightened followers a great happening has come upon us and I have our next course of action.”
By day the librarian was the soft-spoken, always flustered snake hybrid—Stein. Hired by the mayor to watch over the library in a building slowly violating the regulations of the up-to-code buildings surrounding it. It was the perfect place for the alarming presence of a snake hybrid feared for their notorious predatory instinct. Hidden, secluded, and generally avoided by the greater part of the town. Even those with a predator heritage were wary of the reptilian hybrid that is if they didn’t know him for the timid, stuttering librarian he appeared to be is.
“I-i-i’m the librarian w-w-w-what do you need help with?”
“Wow happy to finally meet you this time! Anyway I was wondering if you had the sequel to this book? I tried looking for it but I just can’t seem to find it.”
“T-t-t-that’s f-f-f-fine come with me.”
By night, Stein would become the leader that the minority of the town gathered around. Eagerly awaiting his knowledgable word. On an unrelated note, the town’s collection of books has a larger collection of the fictional genre influencing those curious enough to explore. With so much information they only found it right to turn to the hybrid tasked with understanding it all, seeing as no one other than Stein had attempted to learn from the non-fiction section…that is until you.
“My lord what does this mean!?”
“Shall we stake them?!”
“Ritualize them?!”
“Entice them to join!?
“Enlightened, please! Quiet your questions for I have the answer to all of them. The human is our Excalibur!”
Gasps fill the library basement.
“Can this be?”
“As the legend foretells whosoever should hold Excalibur shall hold the keys to the kingdom!”
“That must be you our great lord Stein! You are the Arthur!”
“I should hope so.”
“With this knowledge, we can work together to bring Excalibur to you!”
“But we must be cautious! The others of the round table before they become friends will be enemies!”
“We must begin planning immediately!”
Stein isn’t delusional or an idiot or easily swayed by any means. He’s well aware that the stories of Welsh folklore are obviously not real at least not in this time. He went to school, a private school that accelerated his learning and then he went to a university where he proceeded to get his doctorate. But the bored and uninspired superstitious minority of the town did not. If that wasn’t enough to convince these other hybrids to follow, the fact that his particular origins were that of the venomous Black Mamba with a mix of Boa Constrictor. They were right to be afraid he happened to have both killer traits of his feared parents, it’s a given many insolent prey will rationalize that the one they fear the most must know the truth.
“(Y-y/n) good to see you, checking out the prequels?”
“You know it. I also wanted to know if you had recommendations for building doggy doors?”
“...I might have something…are you thinking of getting a dog?”
“Not necessarily but I’ve got a hole in my door and I think if I try and fix it it’ll just keep happening.”
“Say it! Ask my lord!”
“What was that?”
“I-i-uh I’m not very good with fixing things b-b-but if you like I could take a look…if you like?”
“That’s real sweet of you Stein, I appreciate that!”
“The steps to procuring Excalibur commences!”
“Shh!”
He figures if he’s happening to start a cult, he might as well get help in his love-life. It might have been foolish to proclaim a poor outcast human the most prized object that this collective could agree upon but knowing the lengths his followers would go to he’d rather you be something adored than hated. Especially since the control he had on the collective wasn’t as straightforward as he had hoped.
“See my lord we’ve brought you the enemy!”
“Mmmffff.”
“Oh my.”
“It will be your first of many meals—I mean sacrifices in your pursuit of the grand Excalibur.”
“I–yes that is the plan.”
“Now eat! This is just fodder for the great Stein! Oh the grand ruler you’ll be!”
“EAT!” “EAT!” “EAT!” “EAT!”
Stein swallows a tired sigh, ‘a wolf hybrid is gonna be so fattening.’
“For your information my lord, he broke the wheels of Excalibur’s wagon–forcing them to buy their overpriced replacements.”
“...I’ll need salt.”
“Yes, my lord!”
When he’s not playing up to the dastardly cult leader he gets to be at night he’s all so shy. It’s hard trying to connect with the human he’s got such a big crush on especially since their outcasted status was beginning to change. Unknowingly harming him, his collective was being much nicer—complimenting you and standing up for you when you have encounters with human-hating citizens. He’s happy for you but he curses the loss he used to have with speaking to you. Now instead of his well-planned bump-ins with you on the way to the market he’ll have to spend more of his evening following far behind. And that’s when your neighbors and roommate aren’t getting in the way
“Don’t argue with me, Mutt I know you did that on purpose!”
“Please, no one told you to where those dumb shoes to a market day!”
“Yeah well appearance is every–”
“...” “...”
“Mutt go get (Y/n), I smell danger.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.”
It’s so shattering for him to constantly be overshadowed by every interested citizen in town. It’s almost enough to make him give up hope but the remaining thing that ties him to you is his saving grace.
“W-what if we made a book-club, you and I?”
“I don’t think anyone would want to join. Not with me in it…”
“Mmm–”
“But I’d love to talk about books with you! Over drinks or at my house if that’s better!”
“T-t-t-that’s perfect!”
If he could get past his fears he’s sure he’d be a force to be reckoned with but he’d much rather go the way he’s going now. He often receives letters about how his mother kept his father close to the nest at the beginning of their relationship. And since she seems to believe he can do even better with a mere human, he’d love if it was all organic minus the cults help.
“I feel like I'm on fire knowing such a holy existence is so close to me. I’m going to take full advantage of this. You are just a human it might be better that it’s me you end up with, especially in this town.”
#yandere x reader#yandere x you#lovelyyandereaddictionpoint#yanderexrea#yandere#yanderes#yandere harem#yandere animal town#yandere animal hybrids x reader#yandere male#yandere snake hybrid#yandere cow hybrid#yandere dog hybrids#yandere oc#yandere x darling#male yandere#yanderes x gn reader#yanderes x reader#yandere x gender neutral reader#yandere original character#yandere original characters#yandere original character x reader
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Hole-in-one | JJK
A day of golf goes better than expected despite being ditched by your bestfriend and spending the afternoon with your so-called rival.
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
High society of sorts, Richie Rich type of wealth.
Warnings: Oral (m/f), sexual jokes, dig bick Jk, playful banter, unprotected sex, squirting, throat fucking, sexual tension, one-shot. (Did I miss something?)
A/N: I wanted to write more but I thought it ended ok. My knowledge on golf is based on Wii which I stopped playing a long time ago. So bear with me.
I have no way to know how long but enjoy.
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You groan in frustration as you read Namjoon's text saying he left with the girl he met at the club lobby.
It was a nice sunny afternoon, perfect for golf. At least Namjoon was gonna fill holes either way and that irks you the most. He's had women, left and right, while you struggled with your types.
All you want was a man who shared the same things you like. Golf was your thing, Namjoon came for the women who thought they were stealing him from you. When in fact, Namjoon was your cousin/best friend.
"Alone today?" The attendant, Jean, always met you with a smile and your golf clubs.
"Yeah, unfortunately my cousin can't last a second without a mouth around his dick." Her face flushed a deep crimson. "No offense." Yup, she and Namjoon did it too.
"None taken, I'm over it." She shrugs and grabs the golf kart key from the shelf. "Shall we?"
"I think I wanna go solo today, Jean. Thanks." You take the key from her and she nods. She knows better than to say no to you.
Your custom lavender colored Kart waited for you, your initials in mettalic purple on the front. It was parked next to several other custom karts.
You arrived at your first course. A man was already standing there, setting up his own stuff. No caddie in sight, you notice his arms and very much know who he is. You look at the deep purple colored kart next to yours.
"No girls to fuck on this fine afternoon, Jeon?" You smirk as you step out of your kart.
He stands up straight at the sound of your voice, he doesn't need to turn around to know its you.
"I wondered why the birds stopped singing." He continues to set up his tee. "No dicks to suck?" He quips.
"I don't fuck on the weekends." You're unfazed having been bantering like this for about a year now.
"Oh look, we do have things in common." He calls 'fore' before swinging his club.
You both watched as the ball lands near the hole. Out of respect you clap your hands, that was a good swing.
"Namjoon?" He finally turns to look at you, his eyes rake over your legs, your skirt is too short for golfing and your top hugged you so well he could outline your tits.
"Found a poor soul in the lobby before he could even touch some grass." You snort and pull out your own driver and ball.
He steps back, clearly you both could use the company even if it meant mean retorts.
You take position, he doesn't even try to be subtle about oggling at your ass.
You and Jungkook are neighbors but you studied abroad for middle school and highschool. Why you chose to come home for college, you're not sure. But you and Jungkook are in senior year now and you have common friend groups but not really that close until...
A year ago, you finally joined your parents to the Jeon's hunting weekend, it was an annual thing. It was going smoothly for the most part but when you and Jungkook shot the same boar at the same time, that's when the mean comments started. It was a rivalry of sorts, one trying to become better than the other.
Contrary to what he said earlier, you have too many things in common being raised in high society.
You see each other all the time at sport events and even charities but nothing beyond those events.
To be here with him, without anyone else is a first. You both won't admit that you've been crushing on each other but your society knows there's tension between you two.
"Nice ass." He comments just as you swing. Your ball landing a bit far from the hole.
"You did that on purpose." You frown at him, he was already smirking with that cute bunny looking face, his nose scrunched up.
"I did. Now look, looks like you need two more strokes to make it." He snorts as he walks towards his kart and you groan as you follow him.
"Title of your sex tape." You comment under your breath, he laughs.
You both drive down the path towards the hole.
You study the distance of your ball to the hole and his distance. You can make it in one, if you're lucky.
He lines himself up.
"Nice ass." You say back as he swings and it goes right in. You roll your eyes.
"Two strokes." He winks and moves to stand next to you. Shoulders touching, suddenly it feels warmer.
You stop to feel the wind, you work on your angle and with one stroke, it goes in too.
"Impressive." He claps his hands too and you made a little curtsy. "Never thought you'd be this good at golf."
"You see me here all the time. Doesn't that make sense?" You take both balls from the hole.
Instead of putting the ball in his palm, you make a bold move of standing in front of him while slipping both in his pockets.
"There, now you have a pair of balls." You look up at him, for a second his eyes darkened but the smirk was back.
He leans down, lips nearly touching. "YN, if you wanted to touch my balls, all you need to do is ask."
Your cheeks feel hot and it doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook. But you never back down.
"I thought you didn't have any." You lean closer, one more move and your lips would be touching.
"I can show you right now." Your face moves back. "All talk and no walk, a shame." He stands up straight. "But if you want it so badly. When I do a hole in one, you be my caddie. And if you do a hole in one, I'll fuck your brains out."
You snort but can't help feel the rush of wetness from between your folds.
"You say that like fucking you is a prize." You step away from him. "The only hole you'll get to fill today are on the course. But..." You flip your hair to the side, a mischievous glint in your eye. "If you wanted to, all you have to do is ask."
"Oh? Then, YN, can I fuck your brains out?" Oh, he's bold. You roll your eyes and walk back to your Kart.
He follows you, with a grin plastered on his face.
"Are you scared you might actually like it?" You scoff and look at him. Your heartrate suddenly spiking.
"I'm afraid I might get disappointed." You start to feel hot. Its only been one course, if you go back now. Jean will definitely say something.
"Oh baby, I could live up to your gold standard. I am gold standard." He's cocky and arrogant but god it would be a lie to say you're not turned on.
"See you at the next course, Jeon." Your kart starts backing up and he rushes to follow you again.
You both arrive at the same time, this time at a more difficult course.
"The next course we should do is intercourse." He hasn't even reached you yet and he's already teasing.
"Shut up before someone hears you." You forcefully stick your tee on the ground.
"Why? Its not like we're both kids, plus nobody is around." He looks around, the next group of golfers are a hectare away.
You sigh and face him again. He loves riling you up, it was just playful banter before and now that you've entered this kind of teasing, he loves your reactions.
"Okay." You declare. His grin ceasing a bit, his eyebrows raised. "I'll tee first, if I do a hole in one, you get on your knees and..."
"Beg for your forgiveness? Princess I don't beg." He smirks again, he licks his lip piercing.
You step even closer, your tits touching his chest and he loves the feeling. "No, I want the golden boy to get on his knees and show me what that mouth can do other than tease." His throat runs dry.
Shit. "Is that supposed to be a punishment? You'd probably beg for more once I'm done." He kicks his leg, hopefully to free some space in his pants for his growing boner.
You hum. "Another thing we have in common, I don't beg." Lie, you always beg in bed.
"Deal. But if I make a hole in one, you're the one getting on your knees." He's confident. Given your 'punishments' aren't really punishments. He'd love to eat you out, but he won't tell you that.
But you know this course, you've hit holes in ones in this. Yout heart is beating loudly almost clouding your senses. Jungkook has a permanent teasing smirk on his face you'd like to kiss off.
Out of all the places you could have teased each other into fucking, you didn't expect it to be at the golf course.
"Don't worry princess, I'll be gentle... At first." He chuckles.
You take a deep breath and swing. You both watched the ball as it flies over the field. You bit your lip at it lands an inch away and it falls right in. Your hands fly in the air cheering for yourself.
"Are you this excited to have me eat you?" He was standing directly behind you, his warmth and scent engulfing you. "My turn."
You step away and wink at him. He takes a deep breath and swings. You both watch as it takes the same speed and the same arch and his ball lands the exact same way yours did. A hole in one for the both of you.
He turns to you with a satisfied grin.
"I hope your throat is ready for me princess." Your nerves are going haywire at his voice. Did it get lower?
You quietly head to your kart, you nod to the side, gesturing him to follow you and you drive away.
The thing with this club house is, both your parents are partial owners, hence you have access to the many rooms the place offers if you asked.
Lucky for you, you already planned on staying the night since it was a free weekend.
You barely parked properly, tossing the key to the valet. You meet Jean and you ask for a room key, she eyes you then behind you, sure enough Jeon Jungkook was standing there, watching your ass again.
She hands you the key card. No more words exchanged between you, sexual tension builds in its wake.
You head to the elevator and head to the third floor. The suites.
Your breathing is starting to get ragged as you feel the fragile tension inside the elevator. Jungkoom just stood there, eyes forward, hands in his pockets. He refrains from moving since this place had security camers and your neighborhood would have a field day if you fucked in the club elevators.
But all he can hear is his heartbeat, all he can smell is you, and all he can feel is the tightness in his pants.
He follows you down the hall, and you swipe the key card. The moment the two of you cross the threshold and the door securely locked. You turn to face him and his hands are already on you, pulling your face into feverish kiss. You moan into the kiss as he lifts you up, your legs wrap around his torso.
He takes you to the couch. He grins into the kiss.
"What?" You pull away, you bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling.
"I was thinking who should get their prize first." His hand was on your cheek, thumb caressing your lower lip. You take it into your mouth and suck on it. "fuck." He mumbles and his breath gets caught in his throat.
"Since I'm being generous." You get off him and get on your knees in front of him. "Wouldn't want to keep my goldben boy waiting." The way you called him yours made his heart skip a beat.
It was a joint effort to take his pants off. What he didn't expect was for you to take your top off, a sexy lace bra underneath it. Usually, you wear a sports bra but you didn't feel like it today. Now you know why.
He's huge. Your wetness growing in your panties. Eager to have him, you take a hold of his base and rub his dick over your face.
You moan and finally take him into your mouth. He hisses and moans.
His fingers weave through your hair. The way you look up at him as you take him deeper almost made him cum. Fuck, for years you basically ignored each other despite everyone teasing you about ending up together since your parents were basically best friends, had you known that his dick would fit perfectly in your mouth.
You moan around him, the vibrations sending Jungkook into pure bliss.
"Keep going." His head was thrown back as he moans loudly. "So fucking needy." You took him deeper to show him how needy you can become.
He takes your hands and places them on his thigh. "Double tap if you can't take it." You nod knowing what he'd do next. He did say he'd be gentle at first.
He weaves both hands into your hair this time and fucked your throat. Your tears and drool flow freely, you look like a fucking porn star and Jungkook loves it. You're taking him so well he moans out loudly.
"I'm gonna fucking cum down your throat." He forces his words out and you simply take in his thrusts. With one last shove he shoots his load down your throat, you swallow around him. "Holy fucking shit, where the hell have you been all my life." His breathing was ragged as you pull off him, grinning like the slut you are. "Who knew that a princess like you loved to be treated like a whore, my whore."
He makes you stand up, you use your shirt to wipe off the drool, you avoid your tears that made makeup run down your cheeks, that's going to stain.
Jungkook kisses your pelvis as he rids you of your skort. The lace thong that matches your bra peek through and he's starting to get hard again.
He takes off his shirt and pulls you down for you to land over his shoulder. He stood up like you weigh nothing, you shriek and giggle at the way he's handling you.
He literally throws you onto the bed, but the way you landed seemed so graceful in Jungkook's eyes. So pretty, so delicate, like you were made of porcelain with the sex drive of a succubus.
His eyes were glassy, hazed from the mindblowing head he received. Crawling towards you as you scoot up to the headboard.
"Time for your prize princess." He uses his teeth to pull down your thong and expertly unclasping your bra.
"I better get my money's worth, Mr. Gold standard." He captures your lips in his before slowly kissing down on your skin, your eyes roll to the back of your head as he finds the sweet spot near your clavicle.
Your scent is addicting, what he'd give to get a taste of you everyday. He can make that happen, he will make that happen.
After all, high society is all about marrying each other to keep the weath from seeping out of your grasp. He's hypnotized by the way your chest rises and falls as he inches towards your needy pussy.
You've lost it the moment his tongue comes in contact with your folds. He wastes no time devouring you, you sound so good.
This is bad, so bad that he hasn't even fucked you properly and he already wants to marry you. Keep you close because nobody else should see what he's looking at right now.
His tongue works wonders, lips sucking on ever inch. You were chanting his name like it was a prayer. "Holy fuck baby." The petname sounds so nice coming from you.
It wasn't long until your moans become more high-pitched as you fuck yourself on his tongue. What threw you over the edge were the two fingers he inserted. You were squirting all over his face, your body shaking like a leaf.
"That was hot." He smirks up at you, putting both hands on your face as you tried to control your breathing. "You okay?" He moves up to hover over you, prying your hands away.
"I've never... I—I haven't..." Squirted but you can't seem to say it. Jungkook captures your lips again, you taste yourself.
"I'm honored, princess." He teases and you blush. How can he make you feel giddy when you literally just came all over his face.
Something inside you tell you that you'll never find another man who can make you feel like this, who can make you cum like that. No, you need this everyday.
"Jungkook." You reach down towards his erection. "I want you to fuck my brains out." Referring to your earlier conversations.
"Fuck yes baby." He dives in to kiss you with much more need than the previous one.
The tip of his head was rubbing against your opening, he was waiting for you to protest and ask him to wrap it up but you dig your heels on his ass instead.
"Fuck me." Your fingers scrape through his hair. "Please, baby." He chuckles.
"I thought you didn't beg?" He finally pushes in you, your mouth falls open but you don't make a sound other than a small squeak. "You're made for my cock. So fucking tight." He grunts.
You start begging him to go faster and harder, Jungkook happily obliges. With your thighs thrown over his shoulder, his hand wrapped around your throat, he could get used to this. You feel so good and he wasn't holding back from telling you what a good whore you are.
He lifts your ass up just a little hitting you at an angle you never knew felt so fucking good you're cumming again.
He fucks you, over and over. One orgasm after the other, you've lost count of how many. It wasn't until he spills his load all over your tits that he finally collapses next to you.
After care be damned, you both fall asleep in each other's arms covered in cum.
Your phones ring at the same time. 6pm sharp.
"Hey dad." He groans into the phone.
"Mom." You pick up your own phone.
Legs still tangled around each other as you both spoke to your parents. You both answer the same thing.
"Let me guess, dinner?" Jungkook tosses his phone on the night stand as you lay yours gently.
"Yeah, at your place." You mumble. "I think we passed out." You giggle.
"Fuck yeah we did." His bunny toothed smile. "Wanna shower together?"
With your body aching like crazy you decide to shower here. The warm bath helping you recover, of course you two fucked again.
He drops you off at your house before parking his car at their mansion next door. He waves at you as you both enter the house.
Your mom was standing by the window with a huge grin on her face.
"Did Jungkook drop you off? I though you weren't close like that?" She asks as you step up the stairs.
"Yeah, but we... We went golfing today. It was fun." You smile, and your mom simply nodded.
It was more than fun. It was definitely gold standard. The best hole in one you've had.
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A/N: still debating if I should write a pt2
#bts au fanfic#bts college au#bts fic#bts smut#bts jungkook#jeon jeongguk#jeon jungkook#high society#smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut
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Warnings: Violence, blood and gore. Death. Strong language. The improper use of a baseball bat (not in a sex way). Spoilers for that one episode that happened years ago. Tiny, tiny implied fluff? Or smut. Blink and you’ll miss it.
Summary: You’re at Negan’s lineup in the woods that night and you’re in love with Daryl.
Note: My first ever attempt at a Daryl X Reader fic. Just what I think would happen if you were with the group the night Glenn lost his head. Let me know what you think.
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Tears blur your vision as you focus on the ground beneath you, nails gripping your thighs as you sit on your knees in front of this psychopath called Negan. What’s left of Abraham’s head is lying a few feet away from you in a heap of flesh and bone, sending a wave of dread through your chest that brings bile into your throat. You try to stay small and quiet.
Soft sobs and the occasional quick intake of air fill your head from the others but you just hold your breath and pray you don’t do anything to make your captor hurt anyone else. No one else has to die. We’ll do what he wants. Please fucking tell him we’ll do what he wants, Rick.
You close your eyes tightly just after seeing Daryl jump up and slug Negan across the face in your peripheral vision bringing a few of Negan’s henchmen forward to jerk the archer back to the ground and aim their guns at him. Oh god. Your heart begins to race and you fear you’ll start hyperventilating. Please God, not him. Not Daryl. Your eyes open slowly and focus on your hands that are shaking so hard you have to clutch them into tight fists to try and ease the panic washing over you.
“That… is a no no. The whole thing - not one bit of that shit flies here.”
Your vision is fucked with tears now, trying to blink them away without moving. Without bringing any attention to yourself. If you look up to Daryl you’ll fucking lose it and you can’t lose it here. You have to be strong. You have to be quiet.
You close your eyes again as someone shoves Daryl on his face and points his bow to the back of his head.
“You want me to do it?!”
The trembling in your hands begins to crawl up your arms and sink into your muscles. Please, please please not him. You care about all of these people - they are your family but Daryl…, he’s everything to you and your heart will truly stop if something happens to him. You love him - even if neither of you can say the words aloud - it can’t be him.
“Oh, you don’t kill that. Not till you try a little.”
You can hear Daryl’s grunts as they jerk him back to his knees beside Glenn and your body betrays you - sending your eyes to the right quickly. They find Daryl’s like they always seem to do and then you look away quickly. You’re afraid. Afraid Negan will see on your face how much he means to you and make you suffer for it. You look at Maggie then Rosita before finding the ground at your knees again.
“I said I would shut that shit down! I don’t know what kind of lying assholes you’ve been dealing with but I am a man of my word. First impressions are important. I need you to know me.”
The panic filling your chest is becoming harder to hide, your limbs are shaking almost violently and when Negan says “so… back to it” and swings his bat again a gasp escapes your throat and then a sob as the sickening crack of Glenn’s skull being bashed in rolls your stomach. Absolute sorrow fills your soul as he calls for his ailing wife with a gurgled cry.
“I just popped your skull so hard your eyeball popped out and it is gross as shit!”
You’re going to puke - bile filling your throat as you lean forward slightly and try to take in air. Stay small. Stay quiet. Don’t be the reason Daryl dies. Negan jerks Rick up and all but throws him towards the RV and then it’s quiet for a little while, all but the random sobs and sniffs but you can’t lift your head - the ache in your chest is to deep to look at what’s left of Glenn. Before long Carl is lying on his chest with his left arm stretched out and Rick is back - sobbing and begging Negan desperately to spare his son.
“You—-, you don’t have to do this.” Michonne plea’s from your right but her pleas fall on deaf ears.
“Please! Please! It can be me! Please!”
You close your eyes again pulling air into your lungs as you listen to Rick’s disparity become almost hysteric until he’s just whispering, repeating Negan’s words.
You answer to me.
We answer to you.
You provide for me.
We provide for you.
You belong to me, right?
“Right.”
Everything goes quiet for a moment and you idly wonder if you’ve finally passed out - or went deaf or you’re just dead. Maybe everyone’s dead. Maybe you’re trying to wake up from this fucking nightmare. Negan’s soft laugh fills your head as he assures Rick whatever we had going for us is over now. You finally lift your head but keep your eyes cast down as Negan stands to his feet with a quiet groan and swings his bloody bat carelessly beside him. Abraham and Glenn’s blood dripping from the barbed wires.
“Well, it looks like I’ve broken up some happy homes here today. By the way that one was blubbering I assume he was with you?” Negan asks Maggie, pointing his bat to Glenn’s remains. “…and big Red, looks like both of you girls are pinning over what’s left of him.” Negan laughs at Rosita and Sasha - moving on to Michonne. “…and the way you vouched for Carl, you and Rick are probably makin’ the beasts with two backs. Lucky bastard.”
Finally you meet Daryl’s gaze again and he gives nothing away. His face is completely void of emotion but his eyes are boring into yours like he’s trying to speak to you telepathically. Like he’s trying to tell you something important.
A flash of a memory fills your head as you search his eyes - a quiet house in Alexandria, your group all gone to Deanna’s welcome party and a stolen kiss in a massive kitchen that turned into desperate words and hands.
“So. That leaves… what the fucks his name?”
“Daryl.”
“That actually sounds right.” Negan says with a laugh. “Which one of these lovely people gets your motor running…, Daryl?” The psychopath is standing over Daryl now and you know he knows it’s you. He’s testing you and you can’t fail this. You can’t fail Daryl. “Man like him? He ain’t no pussy like the rest of you. No cryin’ sloppy mess like your fearless leader over there, no. Daryl is a genuine badass… he ain’t gonna crack under pressure but the girl…” Negan glances over the group as a whole and smirks. “…or guy, I guess - that he loves? You think you’ve got that kind of control?”
An inhuman wail leaves your chest as Negan swings his bat in Daryl’s general direction, stopping just before it makes contact with his skull and he turns to you with a terrible smile. “Didn’t think so. Load them up. They’re mine now - the rest of you? Get home, get some rest and get my shit together. You’ve got a week.”
Daryl growls deep in his chest as someone jerks you to your feet and shoves you towards him, throwing you both in to the back of the truck roughly. Once the doors close and you’re alone your eyes meet and a sob escapes you. “I’m s-sorry. I…”
“Hey. It’s alright. Everything’s gonna be alright.” Daryl says quietly, pulling you to his chest as his strong arms wrap around you. “Glenn…, and Abraham…” Another sob leaves you as your tears roll down your face freely now. “I know.” Daryl growls, burying his face in your hair. “I know.”
His voice is so deep and comforting you close your eyes and try to gather your thoughts. They’re going to use you to torture him and the thought fills you with another wave of nausea as you reach out to touch his face, fear filling your gaze. “It’s gonna be alright.” Is all he can say as he places his lips to the crown of your head and pulls you closer to his chest.
#daryl x reader#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon x female reader#fanfiction#the walking dead
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Is this proof that the mating bonds of the High Fae were corrupted along with Prythian's Cauldron? What might this mean for Azriel and Elain Archeron?
This post was written for @azrielappreciationweek Day 5: No Need For Poetry
Disclaimer: this is a theory that, while based on the text, makes no claim of being canon. My thanks as always go out to @wingedblooms, @elrieldreamer, @ladynightcourt3, @psychologynerd and anyone else who tolerates my nattering. And don't worry, this isn't nearly as long as my last post. 😂
Spoilers: the entire Maasverse to date is discussed.
High Fae and their mating bonds
@wingedblooms recently made a great observation: that the witches from Erilea had once taken up the Fae habit of "selecting" their mates. This especially caught my eye as I have previously theorised that all Singers could be witches or sorcerers of a sort. I think @psychologynerd also mentioned the same passage when she discussed the possibility of Azriel being a witch prince, which I absolutely hope is true.
The crone read her question in her eyes. “Our men dwell at our homes, where they are safe. This camp is an outpost while we conduct our business.” The Crochans had always given birth to more males than the Ironteeth, and had adopted the Fae habit of selecting mates—if not a true mating bond, then in spirit. She’d always thought it outlandish and strange. Unnecessary. - KOA, chapter 15
It even pairs nicely with the following quote, which @silverlinedeyes included in her discussion about true mates possibly being a bond type all of its own.
“After your mother never returned, your father was asked to couple with another young witch. He was the sole carrier of the Crochan bloodline, you see, and should your mother and you not have survived the birthing, it would end with him. He didn’t know what had happened to either of you. If you were alive, or dead. Didn’t even know where to look. So he agreed to do his duty, agreed to help his dying people.” Her great-grandmother smiled sadly. “All who met Tristan loved him.” Tristan. That had been his name. Had her grandmother even known it before she’d killed him? “A young witch was chosen for him especially. But he did not love her—not with your mother as his true mate, the song of his soul. Tristan made it work nonetheless. Rhiannon was the result of that.” - KOA, chapter 15
Those on their own were very interesting finds, but when we combine them with the now-canon fact that, per Silene's message, Prythian's Cauldron has indeed been corrupted, it shines the following passage from ACOMAF in an entirely new light.
The Cauldron was of our world, our heritage. But upon arriving here, the Daglan captured it and used their powers to warp it. To turn it from what it had been into something deadlier. No longer just a tool of creation, but of destruction. And the horrors it produced … those, too, my parents would turn to their advantage. - HOFAS, chapter 19
I held out my own glass for Mor to fill. “He does need unusual amounts of coddling.” Azriel choked on his wine, and I met his gaze—warm for once. Soft, even. I felt Rhys tense beside me and quickly looked away from the spymaster. A glance at the guilt in Rhys’s eyes told me he was sorry. And fighting it. So strange, the High Fae with their mating and primal instincts. So at odds with their ancient traditions and learning. - ACOMAF, chapter 56
So at odds with their ancient traditions and learning.
Feyre suggested the primal instincts of the high fae mating bonds - at least as they currently exist - were "at odds" with their ancient traditions and learning.
Does this not sound like we should be questioning everything, especially in light of the information we learnt in HOFAS, which confirmed what some of us had previously wondered about the Cauldron having been tampered* with? It makes me wonder what, exactly, made these two facets of the current high fae become so at odds with each other.
* Kudos to @fawnandshadows for that brainwave years ago!
Why can Azriel smell the bond between Elain and Lucien before it has been consummated? That shouldn't be possible, especially as - like Cassian - he simply "suspected" that Feyre and Rhys were mates in early ACOMAF. Unless there's something we don't yet know, Amren was the only one who knew without being told.
Further, why does proximity to the "bondmates" become too much for even such a hardened soldier to bear? This doesn't seem normal.
Why does the Cauldron's magic appear to be associated with oiliness?
It has to be the Cauldron's corruption, right?
What if Azriel has been right all along... what if the Cauldron was wrong?
So... Azriel and Elain Archeron?
We know that Azriel's shadows can hide him from binding magic, such as the contract Thesan created to keep the peace in the High Lords' meeting.
Azriel squeezed, Eris thrashing beneath him. No physical brawling—there had been a rule against that, but Azriel, with whatever power those shadows gave him … “Enough, Azriel,” Rhys ordered. Perhaps those shadows that now slid and eddied around the shadowsinger hid him from the wrath of the binding magic. The others made no move to interfere, as if wondering the same. - ACOWAR, chapter 45
@mrspettyferr has previously wondered if this part of the shadows' power could have been why a true bond didn't snap between Azriel and Elain while at Hybern, either when she was in/freshly out of the Cauldron (or with Mor previously, if it turns out they share some sort of bond); do his shadows hide him from the binding magic/contract of a mating bond? Especially as SJM has used the term "shackled." It is an incredibly interesting thought, as I had only ever considered this ability in terms of defensive magic, and is part of the reason why I first took note of the passage below. Of course, we still need to answer why a mating bond would generate with Lucien in the absence of Azriel's soul; was there some sort of external interference, such as the Cauldron itself, or is it simply part of the function of at least one of the hypothesised bonds to snap into place if the nearby match is "good enough" for strong children?
@wingedblooms and I have previously discussed the potential for an evolution of the current mating bond (here and here), and many theories exist about how the bond may be dissolved. Will it be Nesta or Elain who use the power of the Cauldron to unMake it; will it be Truth-Teller severing the Elucien bond, per sleepyliv and @riddlecrux; or did Lucien and his spell-cleaving heritage unintentionally pull their bond thread loose and begin its unravelling back in ACOWAR, as once suggested by @nikethestatue.
Assuming that whatever exists between Elain and Lucien can be unMade, of course, I wonder if Azriel's shadows/magic could contribute in some way towards him "selecting" his own mate in the future, after reading the following exchange.
“No one’s got any rope?” Bryce asked pathetically. She was met with incredulous silence. Bryce nodded to Azriel. “Those shadows of yours could take form—they caused that cave-in. Can’t you, like, make a bridge or something? Or your blue light … you seemed to think it could have restrained the Wyrm. Make a rope with that.” His brows rose. “Neither of those things is remotely possible. The shadows are made of magic, just very condensed. These”—he motioned to the blue stones in his armor—“concentrate my power and allow me to craft it into things that resemble weapons. But they’re still only magic—power.” - HOFAS, chapter 16
Cassian gawked at Azriel, and I wondered how often Azriel had lent out that blade— Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife. Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade. I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife. - ACOWAR, chapter 69
Why did we learn that Azriel's shadows cannot make any sort of "bridge" or "rope" (aka a cord of woven threads, which is very reminiscent of a mating bond) to reach across the gap? It seems pretty symbolic to me, and marries nicely with Truth-Teller being described as "bridging the gap" between Elain and Azriel in ACOWAR's pre-war meadow scene. Will Azriel's shadows or siphons be able to help nullify the Elucien bond somehow? What about creation?
Purification?
I know @wingedblooms and @ladynightcourt3, at least, join me in my suspicions that - similar to Yrene in KOA - Elain's magic/light could purify a Valg (or similar) infestation from Azriel's shadows, which we now know are really condensed magic. If this is possible, could Az's shadows - once purified by Elain, of course (assuming Valg or similar corruption to the Cauldron, with Elain as the "executioner") - help to bridge the gap between his and Elain's souls with his magic, to meet hers half way? Thereby having Azriel and Elain "select" each other as true mates, just like the witches in Erilea once did?
Why did SJM say that Truth-Teller was bridging the gap between the two? Was it because it had been charged with sunlight and/or Elain's own light enough to begin negating a possible Valg infection in Azriel's magic, or that it will be charged enough to do so at some point in the future? Or will Gwydion or Truth-Teller's magics help to cleanse the hypothetically corrupted Cauldron bond that currently exists between Elain and Lucien? There are so many possibilities going forward.
Whatever ends up happening, this all seems very symbolic. Especially once you add in all of the "purity language" (not my term) that SJM used between Elain and Azriel. Imagine the pay off if it was always suggesting that Azriel sensed Elain's light could cleanse his magic and free him from Valg (or other) corruption?
That would be amazing foreshadowing. Sorry.
#azriel shadowsinger#azriel appreciation week#azriel appreciation week 2024#azrielappreciationweek#azrielappreciationweek2024#elain archeron#elriel#acotar#azriel theory#azriel shadowsinger theory#elriel theory#pro elain#maasverse#acotar cc tog crossover theory#mating bond#true mates#two mates#valg#the cauldron#corrupted cauldron#corrupted bond
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it's 'looking through the pyrrha dve tag and feeling sad' hours
#she's the last one left#so many times over#the last of the original sixteen#the last person who knew John the man#before he was John Gaius#the last from the apartment in the building on new rho#now that all the other souls from there have become something else#the last person who remembers Wake as a whole person#neither martyr nor demon#she cares too much#she pretends she doesn't care at all#she's been wearing her best friend's face for ten thousand years#no one knows whether or not she's hurting#maybe not even her#pyrrha dve#the locked tomb
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You know what hits me hard? When 5 to 6 year old children, all the way in Southeast Asia, knows about what's happening in Palestine right now. That children their age is getting bombed, that they're starving to death, that they're getting shot at, and sniped in the head. Because, just this past 2 or so months, I heard some of the little ones in the Kindergarten classes I'm TAing in as an Intern talk about it. Hell, one of the little boys downright said he didn't like Israel, because Israel is bad, because they do scary things. Another was questioning whether Palestine was bad too, because, "why else would they shooting at them?". A little girl in one of my classes doesn't want to finish her food at all, because she wants to save at least half her meat and rice for kids in Palestine, because she heard that, they don't have food. And that's just the ones I remember. Namely the inciting cases before their classmates slowly follow suit. The littles are fricking SCARED. We had to sit these kids down, and tell them that the topic is too mature for them at the moment, that they shouldn't even be concerned because they're KINDERGARTNERS, they're not even old enough to properly understand. The one teacher I was TAing for had to make a class announcement saying that. What gets me is, these are 5 to 6 year olds, the youngest I've worked with in this specific age group is 4. 5 years old on average, and they've already been exposed to the worst horrors genocide has to offer through the news and snippets of conversation among adults and hell, considering how many of them say they like to play games on Mama's phone, or their IPad, even from fricking social media. And the fact that, these literal babies, from all the way in Cambodia, has more empathy in their entire body and soul, than full grown fricking adults have in the nail of their pinky finger, gets me. FFS we as adults could LEARN from them I feel sometimes. I honestly don't know what to feel about it anymore. On the one hand, this is the next generation I'm working with. And if the next generation's default response to a tragedy such as Palestine, is what I've seen come up on occasion so far? Perhaps there's some bloody hope for this world after all. At least in this country. Especially since a majority of them already come from families who survived a genocide. These are the 3rd - 4th generation descendants of those who survived the Khmer Rouge. They've got grandparents at home, who no doubt are more than intimately familiar with what Palestine is going through right now. And it shows.
But on the other, it makes my heart sink because these are CHILDREN, these are LITTLE KIDS, they should be playing with their toys and watching cartoons and talking to their friends about everything from Spiderman to Speakerman to Kuromi and her friends, and be worried about whether or not they can go to playground that day, guranteed they're well behaved, or if Mama remembered to pack in their costume for swimming lessons that week. NOT JUST MY KIDS. But the little ones in Palestine too. They deserve better. They all deserve, so much better. Hell, it's come to the point that whenever I look at my kiddos right now, whether they'd be working in class, playing, doing something as mundane as eating lunch or getting ready for their nap. I think of the children their age in Palestine that didn't even get the chance to survive. I think of the ones whose memories from this age, is nothing but absolute horror and pain, rather than what has slowly become my normal, who never got to experience what my littles do on a daily basis right now.
Children shouldn't even be concerned about "War", about a Genocide. The last thing that should be on a 5 year old's mind, is pain, and suffering, and the worst horrors imaginable ever to be inflicted on a human being. ESPECIALLY WHEN IT'S INFLICTED, ON OTHER CHILDREN THEIR AGE. And for that alone, the world has failed them. Especially the kids in Palestine who didn't ask for any of this. They just wanted to carry on with life as kids do, the same way as my littles do on a daily basis no doubt, learning, playing, chatting with friends over their favourite cartoons and characters, worrying about whether they'd get to go to the playground or not that day.
I apologize for talking about this on this blog. I know my blog tends to be lighter in feel, a lot more unhinged and light hearted typically. I mean, I'm just a fricking nerd who likes to draw and write, and lurk about her favourite fandoms to consume and support what is shared among other nerds who also like to draw and write. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. About contemplating it, especially since I'll be back on a roll tomorrow, working with my kiddos again after not seeing them for 5 days straight because of Holidays. And, I just had to talk about it. This is something I felt I couldn't keep to myself this time, I don't think my soul'd be able to carry it. I had to talk about it.
FREE PALESTINE. Our children deserve better.
#free palestine#gaza#palestine#rafah#israel#current events#gaza strip#human rights#childrens rights#save the children#cease fire in gaza#cease fire now#cease fire permanently#palestinian genocide#support gaza#pray for palestine#ceasfire now
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"WANT A (HERSHEY) KISS?" — with JJK men
pairings. satoru gojo, suguru geto, choso, yuji itadori, megumi fushiguro, kento nanami, ryomen sukuna, yuta okkotsu x gn! reader
warnings. all sweet mushy stuff, fluff, can be seen as an established relationship or mutual crushing. geto is written to be taller than you (sorry to all my tall ladies), sukuna calls reader "human" (his weird little pet name.), characters might be ooc.
a/n. i overheard my friend ask my best friend if she wanted a kiss and i immediately thought about this hershy kiss idea.
synopsis. asking the jjk men if they want a kiss, but not that kind of kiss.
wordcount. 3.4k
— satoru gojo
gojo straightens up, his posture suddenly becoming theatrically grand. he places a hand dramatically over his heart, his eyes wide with mock seriousness as he gazes deeply into yours.
“oh, you have no idea what you’ve just unleashed,” he declares, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “i’m more than ready for your kiss!”
with a flourish, he takes a step back. he raises his other hand to his forehead as if swooning, his usual confident smirk replaced by an exaggerated look of faux vulnerability.
“oh, how could i have known today would be the day? the day my heart would finally be captured by an unexpected proposal!”
he lowers himself slightly as if preparing for the grand finale of some romantic play, his eyes never leaving yours.
you quirked an eyebrow, confused by your gojo's reaction. he takes a deep breath, his expression shifting to one of resolute determination. "what—"
“i accept your kiss with all the fervour of a thousand lifetimes!” he exclaims, his voice rising to a dramatic crescendo.
before you can react, he swoops in closer, closing his eyes as if truly expecting a romantic kiss. his lips are slightly puckered, and he holds the pose for a moment, the room filled with anticipation of his over-the-top performance.
"....what are you doing..." is all you manage to say while staring at gojo like he was a madman. at your words, he lets out a faint "huh" before peeking with one eyes open. you cocked your head to the side, reaching your palm out with a... hershey's kiss?
gojo's eyes travel between your face and the chocolate treat on your palm. both his eyes open as he resumes his old posture. "what's that?" he asks, confused. where was his kiss?
you nudge him with your hand, "take it, it's the kiss." you responded. there was a pregnant pause as gojo felt his soul being crushed and crumbling away.
he pouts as he usually does when things don't go his way. "so i won't be getting the kiss?" his expression shifts to one of exaggerated disappointment.
“you won't be getting any kiss other than the chocolate kiss in the palm of my hands! if you don't want it then just say it, i'll give it to someone else.”
gojo immediately felt a stab to his heart at your words. "so... no kiss..?" he asked once more, pushing his luck a bit too much. you turned around, beginning to walk over to maki.
"wait wait wait! no— wait! i'll take the kiss, come back! i thought we had something special!!"
safe to say gojo chased you around the courtyard wanting that kiss so badly. (p.s. he never got it)
— suguru geto
he looks up from his tea, his eyebrows raising slightly in mild surprise. his calm demeanour doesn’t waver, but you can see a spark of curiosity in his eyes.
“a kiss?” he repeats, setting down his cup with a gentle clink. “well, that’s unexpected.”
his eyes scan your face, you approached him with a playful smile, unbeknownst to him, holding a small hershey’s kiss hidden in your hand.
his response is measured, his tone light yet sincere. there’s a slight tilt of his head as he considers your offer, a small, enigmatic smile playing on his lips. his curiosity is clearly piqued.
“are you sure you want to do this right now?” he asks softly, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.
you can see the gears turning in his mind. he stands up gracefully, his tall frame now towering over you slightly. his presence is both calming and commanding, and he steps closer, his gaze never leaving yours.
“if you’re offering, who am i to refuse?” he says, his voice soft and gentle, yet with a hint of playfulness.
as he leans in, his eyes close slightly, and his movements are slow and deliberate. his face is inches from yours, his lips poised as if expecting a tender kiss on the cheek or lips.
his breath is warm against your skin, just as his lips are about to meet yours, you can’t hold it in any longer. you burst out laughing, the sound breaking the tension. geto’s eyes snap open, and he pulls back slightly, a look of mild confusion and surprise on his face.
“wait, suguru,” you manage to say between giggles, holding up the small, foil-wrapped hershey’s kiss. “i meant hershey’s kiss!”
geto blinks, taking in the sight of the tiny chocolate in your hand. for a moment, he’s taken aback, his calmness cracking just enough to show his genuine surprise. then, a slow smile spreads across his face, his eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement.
“oh, i see,” he says, chuckling softly, the sound low and rich. “you got me there.”
his surprise melts into good-natured acceptance as he reaches out to take the hershey’s kiss from your hand, his fingers brushing yours gently.
“i should have known there was a twist,” he says, his tone filled with amusement. he unwraps the chocolate with ease, the foil crinkling softly as he reveals the sweet treat inside.
“well, i can’t say no to chocolate,” he continues, popping the hershey’s kiss into his mouth with a graceful motion. “but i might still want that other kiss later.”
you shake your head, still laughing, "you’re too much, suguru.”
he smiles, his eyes twinkling with amusement, "that’s what makes life interesting,” he replies, his tone affectionate. “you always manage to keep me on my toes.”
geto leans in slightly, his expression turning more playful, a hint of a challenge in his eyes. “but just so you know, i'm expecting a real kiss next time,” he says softly, his voice filled with a gentle warmth that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. “no more tricks.”
you nod, your smile matching his. “alright.”
— choso
choso’s dark eyes widen slightly, and he looks at you in surprise.
his usually stoic demeanour softened by your unexpected offer. choso blinked in surprise, his dark eyes widening gradually. "a kiss?" he spoke, uncertain of what he had heard. "from you?"
your playful smile widened a fraction as you nodded. "that's if you really want one," you replied.
choso's expression softened ever so slightly, a flicker of happiness crossing his features. he continued to sit down on the chair, his eyes, usually so guarded, were fixed on yours with anticipation.
"well since you asked," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
you nodded again, containing your joy as you held out the small chocolate treat. but choso, his attention solely on you, didn't notice your extended hand.
instead, he leaned in a fraction closer, his breath brushing against your cheek as he waited expectantly.
time seemed to slow, the air thick with anticipation. and then, as he continued to wait, you couldn't hold back any longer. with a gentle chuckle, you revealed the hershey's kiss, holding it between your fingers.
"wait, choso," you said, your voice soft. "i meant a hershey's kiss."
for a fleeting moment, confusion clouded choso's eyes, his brows furrowing slightly as he processed your words. the disappointment that followed was palpable, a subtle shift in his demeanour as he withdrew slightly, his gaze dropping to the chocolate in your hand.
"oh," he murmured quietly, a faint flush colouring his cheeks. "i see. i misunderstood."
regret tinged your amusement now, your heart squeezing at the sight of his crestfallen expression. you held onto whatever you could to stop yourself from apologising (despite it not being your fault in the first place) but his saddened face had a deadly grip on your aching heart.
letting out a soft sigh, you decide to make up for this misunderstanding. "i'll make it up to you," you promised, offering him the hershey's kiss with a gentle smile.
he looks back at you, his eyes searching yours for lord knows what. you step closer, closing the distance between you. “here,” you say softly, holding the hershey’s kiss in one hand and reaching up to gently cup his cheek with the other. “you can have both.”
you lean in and place a tender kiss on his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin under your lips. as you pull back, you see the love in his eyes, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"how was the kiss?"
"amazing."
— yuji itadori
yuji sat relaxed on the couch, flipping through a magazine with casual interest before you asked him the question.
he looked up from his magazine, his expression momentarily puzzled before a flicker of curiosity crossed his face. "a kiss?" he repeated as his head cocked to the side, intrigued.
"yeah," you continued, your smile widening as you extended the small chocolate towards him. "i thought you might like one."
a hint of confusion lingered on yuji's features as he accepted the chocolate from you. "oh, thanks!" he exclaimed, unwrapping the chocolate with a grin. he popped it into his mouth, savouring the sweetness with an appreciative nod.
however, as he finished the chocolate, his gaze turned back to you with a playful look on his face. "that was good," he remarked casually, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips.
"but you know, i was actually hoping for a different kind of kiss."
you couldn't help but laugh softly at his playful teasing, feeling a warmth spread through you at his easygoing nature. "oh really?" you replied teasingly, pretending to consider his request. "what kind of kiss were you hoping for?"
yuji's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "hmm, how about…" he trailed off, leaning in closer with a twinkle in his eye.
before he could finish his sentence, you leaned in swiftly and gently kissed his warm cheek. his skin was soft against your lips, radiating a faint warmth.
yuji blinked in surprise, his hand instinctively touching his cheek where your lips had just been.
"like that?" you asked with a playful smirk, teasing him lightly.
yuji chuckled softly, his cheeks dusted with a faint blush. "yeah," he admitted, his voice softening. "that was nice."
the room fell into a comfortable silence, filled with a newfound ease. yuji glanced at you, a soft smile playing on his lips as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
"thanks for the chocolate, and the kiss," he said sincerely, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that made your heart skip a beat. you shake your head, "it's fine, i enjoyed the kiss."
yuji immediately brightens up at your words before speaking. "can i get another kiss?" he looks at you with those pleading, puppy eyes. ugh. you let out a soft sigh and nod. "of course, on the cheek or lips?"
"lips please!"
— megumi fushiguro
he pauses. did he hear you correctly? a kiss? why now, as he's training? did you need to distract him after doing something wrong (you had a tendency to do that)? thousands of thoughts whirled around in his head.
"a... a kiss?" he repeated, his voice betraying a hint of confusion and something else—perhaps a flicker of vulnerability.
you nodded, feeling giddy for absolutely no reason. "yeah, a kiss. what do you think?"
for a moment, megumi seemed to be at a loss for words. he glanced around, as if checking to see if anyone else was watching, then looked back at you.
"why are you asking me that?" he said, his voice low and slightly nervous.
you couldn't help but chuckle softly at his reaction. "just answer the question, megumi. do you want one or not?"
his cheeks took on a faint tint of pink, a sight that made your heart skip a beat. he struggled with his thoughts for a moment before he finally nodded, his gaze steady on yours. "sure," he said quietly.
you pulled the small hershey's kiss from your pocket and held it out to him. "here," you said, waiting for him to take the treat.
megumi stared at the chocolate in your hand, his expression shifting from confusion to realization and then to mild embarrassment. he let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh, shaking his head with a wry smile.
"oh, yeah. thanks," he muttered, feeling completely and utterly embarrassed by the thought that he would actually be getting a different type of kiss.
your eyes focus solely on megumi as he stares at the chocolate in your hand. he seemed disappointed but tried his best to hide it, but he knew better.
"you look disappointed. why?"
there goes your attentiveness.
"nothing's wrong. i just thought that.." he paused, taking the chocolate and unwrapping it, popping it into his mouth. your brows raised at his abrupt pause, indicating for him to go on.
you wait for him to finish the chocolate, and when he does you notice a faint blush on his cheeks. he seems to consider something for a moment, his eyes growing more contemplative.
megumi let out a soft sigh, eyes downcast as if embarrassed to say whatever he was about to say. "if..." he began slowly, "i was hoping that you would give me the other kind of kiss,"
his words took you by surprise, and you felt a warm flush creep up your cheeks. "oh?" you replied, your heart fluttering at his unexpected words (though you haven't fully comprehended it yet). after a few seconds, the realisation hit. "OHHH!! was that the type of kiss you were expecting?"
"shut up."
— kento nanami
nanami raised an eyebrow, curiosity was evident on his face. "a kiss?" he repeated. you nod your head.
"yes, a kiss. what do you say?"
he studied your face for a moment, his sharp eyes searching for any hint of a joke. but seeing your expression, he relaxed. "alright," he said with a small, gentle smile.
"i suppose i could indulge."
to your surprise, nanami stood up and closed the distance between you with a few steps. gently, he cupped your face in his warm, calloused hand. leaning in, he placed a small, chaste kiss on your forehead, his lips soft against your skin.
"there," he said, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. "now you can give me a kiss."
your heart fluttered wildly in your chest, and you felt a flush rise to your cheeks. you fumbled for a moment, holding up the small hershey's kiss that had been concealed in your grip.
"i-i meant this kiss," you stammered, your voice flustered. "but this works too."
nanami's eyes flicked to the chocolate in your hand, and a soft chuckle escaped his lips. "ah, i see," he said, a rare glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "a hershey's kiss."
he took the small chocolate from your hand, unwrapping it with practised ease, he popped the chocolate into his mouth, savouring the sweetness. "delicious," he remarked, his gaze never leaving yours.
you couldn't help but laugh, still feeling flustered by his actions as you shook your head. "i didn't expect you to actually kiss me like that," you admitted, a grin creeping onto your face, tugging at the corner of your lips.
nanami's smile widened slightly, a gentle warmth in his eyes. "you asked if i wanted a kiss," he said simply. "i saw no reason to decline."
— ryomen sukuna
the room was thick with tension as the king of curses lounged on his throne-like seat, his piercing red eyes flickering with a dangerous mix of boredom and disdain.
the king of curses rarely indulged in the mundane pleasantries of human interaction, yet when it comes to you, it becomes tolerable.
you approached him, chocolate clutched in your hand. "hey, sukuna," you called out, trying to keep your voice steady.
he shifted his gaze towards you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he regarded you with a mix of curiosity and contempt. "what is it, human?" he growled, his voice dripping with disdain.
taking a deep breath, you mustered your courage and offered him a tentative smile. "do you want a kiss?"
for a moment, sukuna stared at you, his expression unreadable. then, a mocking scoff escaped his lips, and he leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "a kiss?"
"i don't want your disgusting lips on mine, or on my skin at all. foul. don't you ever ask me that stupid question ever again."
you let out a sigh, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at his words. "i didn't mean that kind of kiss," you said softly, revealing the small chocolate in your hand. "i meant a hershey's kiss."
sukuna's eyes flicked to the chocolate, and for a fleeting moment, a flicker of something—curiosity, perhaps—passed through his gaze. he snatched the chocolate from your hand, unwrapping it with a sneer.
"pathetic," he muttered, popping the sweet treat into his mouth. he chewed slowly, his expression shifting from contempt to thoughtful consideration as he continued to chew.
you observed him, noticing the subtle change in his face. despite his harsh words, there was a part of him that seemed to enjoy the small gesture, though, he'd rather allow himself to be killed than admit his feelings.
after swallowing the chocolate, sukuna's eyes returned to yours, his gaze intense and unwavering. "that was tolerable," he admitted grudgingly, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "is there anything else?"
you shake your head. "no... what else would you want?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
he leaned back in his seat, his eyes never leaving yours. "another type of kiss," he said, his tone both commanding and taunting. "show me if you dare."
you hesitated, the weight of his demand on your heart. his earlier insult still lingered in your mind, but there was something in his gaze—a challenge, a test—that compelled you to step forward.
sukuna's eyes gleamed with a predatory anticipation as you drew closer. when your lips brushed against his cheek, his skin was surprisingly warm, a stark contrast to his cold behaviour.
the kiss was brief, a soft and tentative gesture that seemed to surprise even him. as you pulled back, you searched his face for a reaction. sukuna was silent, his expression neutral. then, a slow, almost imperceptible smile spread across his lips—a smile that was equal parts dangerous and intrigued.
"not bad," he murmured, his voice softer but no less commanding. "perhaps you're not as foolish as i thought."
sukuna's eyes darkened, his smirk widening slightly. "don't think this changes anything," he warned, his voice regaining its edge. "but i might tolerate your presence a bit longer."
— yuta okkotsu
yuta's eyes widened, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of pink almost immediately. he seemed caught off guard by your question, his book slowly slipping from his grasp as he tried to process your words.
"a-a kiss?" he stammered, his voice shaky. "you mean… like… a real kiss?"
you couldn't help but chuckle softly at his flustered reaction. "yes, a kiss," you spoke, watching as his blush deepened.
his mind seemed to be racing, a mix of confusion and excitement flashing in his eyes. "i… well… um… sure?" he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.
he looked down, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, clearly trying to gather his composure.
you held out the small hershey's kiss, the silver foil catching the fading sunlight. "i meant this kiss," you said softly, a knowing smile on your face (yuta was always very easy to read).
yuta stared at the chocolate in your hand, his blush was still prominent but now mixed with a look of realization and slight embarrassment. "oh," he breathed out, his shoulders relaxing a bit. he let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "o-oh! yeah, totally—a chocolate kiss."
you handed him the chocolate, watching as he took it from you with a shy smile. "yeah, a chocolate kiss," you confirmed, your voice gentle.
as yuta unwrapped the chocolate, he glanced up at you with a sheepish grin. "i thought you meant the other kiss," he admitted, popping the treat into his mouth.
after a while, yuta turned to you, his blush returning slightly. "do you think you can give me another kiss?"
your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you felt your own cheeks warming. "you mean like the physical kiss? not the chocolate" you replied softly, already knowing the answer. he nodded, feeling a little nervous. "yeah. i mean… if you feel like it. no pressure of course!!"
you smiled, laughing softly. "i'll keep that in mind," you said gently. "you're too sweet."
yuta's smile widened, his eyes shining with happiness. "you're the one that's sweet here," he replied, his voice soft and filled with warmth.
rika is fuming right now
a/n: divider credits @/v6que // my first-ish post for jjk ^-^ if there are any pronouns other than GN please tell me, either in messages or on this post! thank you for reading 💕
#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#geto x reader#choso x reader#yuji itadori x reader#yuji x reader#megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#nanami x reader#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#yuta x reader#yuta okkotsu x reader#jjk x you#jjk x yn
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DPxDC Al Ghul Twins, Only Not Really
I have this vague idea that I might or might not turn into a fic, but it's been in my head for weeks now.
So Bad Ending with Fentons happens, after which Danny is traumatized beyond repair. Sam and Tucker find him, and for the lack of any other possible solutions, yeet him in the Zone and destroy the portal. Clockwork finds him, and Danny, desperate for a safe place, time to rest and heal, and afraid of becoming Dan, asks him for help. Clockwork obliges and tells him he will take care of everything and for Danny to sleep and not worry about anything.
"It's going to be okay," Clockwork tells him, "You will wake up, and all this will feel like a distant dream."
So Danny sleeps. The trick is, he doesn't sleep for a day or two - Clockwork, together with Frostbite and Nocturn, put him into something equivalent to medical coma. And then, Clockwork finds a dimension where no one's ever heard of Danny, Amity Park, GIW, and everything else, and he hides Danny in there.
Danny sleeps for three centuries, in depth of the mountains where no one can find or bother him. Yet, his mere presence in the world causes some ectoplasm to start accumulating around him - he is the Ghost King, after all.
He sleeps under Nanda Parbat.
When he wakes, his past life with Fentons really does feel distant and foggy. He remembers it, but it's like a childhood memory: the details have faded away, the faces have become blurry, and it doesn't hurt anymore. He doesn't forget anything, but it becomes... less important. Less meaningful.
But the first thing he feels just a few minutes after he wakes is a soul. A soul of a child, crying in pain, and its lifeless body being submerged into Danny's ectoplasm (Lazarus Pits have all come from Danny's excess ecto over the years of his sleep, so he can feel them and he can control them to an extent, albeit Ra's has really badly polluted them over the years).
Danny is a hero, that didn't change even after his very long sleep. So he tries to help, but in the process, he accidentally gets roped into the Pit, since a) it's corrupted ecto, b) he has zero ide what he's doing, c) he is the Ghost King and he might put more power in it than he intended, d) he just woke up, cut him some slack.
Talia, who put Damian's body into the Pit, is very damn surprised when two Damians emerge, and that's putting it lightly.
At least they are both very much alive.
#danny phantom#dc x dp#dpxdc#damian wayne#damian al ghul#danyal al ghul#al ghul twins#i dont know where im going with this i just think its a good backstory#kind of throwing spaghetti over the wall now#cork prompts#cork writes#feel free to use or add on anything you like
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I runned out of tags,, i will compile all of this and reblog it as text, i guess
Please put your logic in the tags I’m genuinely interested in this cause I’ve seen a few good takes already, even if I think something different.
Please remember that avatar and victim are two different things and while there are certainly overlaps in some instances mostly an avatar is a manifestation of a power that gains energy from feeding off of victims of the power that they belong to. They can still suffer from a power, but they aren’t it’s main prey, more of a mouth piece. Or living snare.
#okey. so this is gonna be long#first: dual avatar of the hunt & stranger; why? hunt: he's always chasing something. whenever he's up and awake he's moving towards#something and when he finishes? he INMIDEATELY starts chasing something else he's could be defined like the hunt ritual “everchase”#stranger: he's so uncanny. he's always talking to himself; he always looks at you slightly off; every person that encounters him casually#ends up seeing something strange about him!#all of those chats w John while in cabs? you can bet the drivers were creeped right the fuck off abt him! and that deff feeds the stranger#second: the eye and the web “are fond” of him; web: he's so good at manipulating people! if he wasn't so insistent on pursing people & goals#he definetly would've been snatched as a web avatar (similar to what happened to martin) i don't think he could be an avatar of it simply bc#he would refuse to be puppettered by the mother and all of her avatars are#he prefers to resolve his problems by chasing & violence (sidenote: not slaughter avatar bc his violence is NOT sudden and spontaneous nor#is it unmotivated or unpredictable)#eye: i mean? our boy is SET on knowing things even if they could potentially or definetly hurt him or even those around him! what's more eye#than that? (that was literally what led Jon to fully become The Archivist if Arthur's eyes were still his own he would've been an eye avatar#for sure)#third: victim of the dark; the desolation; and obvs touched by the spiral maybe even the buried & the corruption#dark: he does no longer have his eyes all he can see is darkness and he hates it! it would be so easy for him to get fed to the dark#especially bc he KNOWS there are monsters that go bump in the night and people out to get him his fears are not a “maybe” they are a “when”#desolation: my man has been taking L after L- I mean- ok seriously#he keeps having one devastating loss after another (this is before even getting fully into canon; pre-canon + 1st part) he barely has the#time to get all of his pieces and gluing them back together before another tragedy or accident decks him in the face (his parents then bella#then faroe then parker) his life is loss and recovery from it only to get pushed back into it the second he is slightly back up#and his persons lead me to:#corruption: his relationships man; they are a lil messed up! he could so so easily get consumed by what loves him and tells him he's a home#his parents can't love him anymore; they're dead Bella never loved him; he never loved her they only married bc she was pregnant! he loved#Faroe so so much but he lost her because of his own actions and Parker got him out of the (metaphorical) pit he was in he clung to him as a#life boat & he was still alive bc of Parker and Parker alone at that point. he's also dead. now he has John; they bicker and they tear#eachother apart they hurt the other so deeply but they cant separate because the alternative is so much worse (even if John got a body they#would still be so codependent of each other; their souls are interwined after all)#you could argue he's already a home for what loves him. after all isn't he a home for John?#buried: man has been thru: 1) a loveless marriage; 2) the pit (non-metaphorical) i would not be surprised if all of his life he felt trapped
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*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ love language; s.g.
synopsis: when gojo satoru first fell in love with you content: teen gojo era, fem!reader, gojo is head over heels (love at first sight), hopeless!romantic gojo, 1k+ words of gojo just being an absolute fool in love, not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: I've been wanting to create a sort of anthology series for some of my favs so here's a test run! I rlly wanna do lil drabbles/oneshots that can both be standalone but also can be read as something continuous revolving around Gojo's story with his soulmate... pls lmk if you'd like to see more of gojo and his mochi (aka you!)
Gojo Satoru didn't entirely know what love was; what with being raised by other people who weren't his actual mother and father, how could he? All he ever knew was a life of being the Honored One, since the day he was born. Nothing but a weapon. Living as the strongest and treated like a god... he never knew what real love felt like. He never knew what it was like to give or receive it. At least, not this way.
Geto Suguru and Ieiri Shoko were his best friends, the closest thing to real family. It wasn't like he didn't have any, at least not while growing up, but were they really family when all they ever did was train him and treat him like the eighth wonder of the world? Unlike everyone else, at least Suguru and Shoko treated him like a human. They loved him for who he was, but didn't hesitate to snap him into place when his ego was too inflated. They were there for him, even when expressing whatever demons that he held within him was hard to manage. If it wasn't for them, he wasn't sure exactly how he'd go about his life. Sure, he'd act like everything was fine and dandy, money could buy him happiness as he had plenty of it... and he was pretty much unstoppable, but the idea of living a life without either of them didn't sit well in his stomach.
So, sure, Satoru did now a bit about love, at least the love he felt for his best friends, but nothing like what he felt in this moment. The moment his eyes first fell on you.
He hadn't a clue as to who you were, only seeing you stroll along the grounds of Jujutsu High with your little uniform. The typical jacket, a skirt beneath, knee high socks, loafers... and your hair in a low ponytail that was held together by an overly large ribbon. Cute was the first thing that came to mind, along with the terrifying sound of his racing heart. Who were you? How come he had never seen you before? Maybe it was because he didn't pay attention to any one else besides a handful of people. He'd be lying if he said he was sure the technical college held more than five students.
In the midst of sipping away at his little box of strawberry milk, walking alongside Suguru and Shoko, Satoru's eyes had aimlessly wandered along his environment as his two best friends had been discussing evening plans. It wasn't like him to care about what was going on around him, so it was quite the miracle that his eyes were looking anywhere but ahead of him... but, maybe this was destiny.
It felt like the world was suddenly moving slowly around him, rather dramatically like a movie. His lips parted as the tiny straw fell out of it, hidden gaze behind his circular frames becoming exposed as the glasses slid down the bridge of his nose. You looked so graceful, the afternoon sun beaming down on you, your smile as bright as his eyes... he had to have been in love. This had to have been love. What else could it have been? Why else was his heart fluttering so quickly? Why else was he caught in a daze by your beauty? No one else, not a single soul, ever caught his attention this way so you must've been his soulmate.
There was something about you, from your gorgeous hair, to the cute bow, down to the uniform and the way it suited your form to the way you... wait, were you laughing with... Nanami Kento? Gojo's heart stopped as his grip on the milk grew tight, causing the contents to squeeze right out and squirt all over his face.
The sound of laughter caught his attention as he quickly looked at his two best friends, embarrassment filling his face as he looked back at you to see you now looking in his direction. Quickly wiping his face and turning away to scold his best friends, Gojo tossed the now empty carton at Geto. "Shut up!"
"What the hell did you do?" Suguru shook his head, wiping his tears as his shoulders shook with every laugh that rumbled throughout his torso. "Losing your cool over a girl, huh?"
"I said shut up!" Satoru snapped, cheeks burning with heat, embarrassed that he was that obvious.
"Must've struck something in him for him to spill milk all over his face like the doofus he is," Shoko snickered as Suguru went for a high five.
Swatting their hands and glaring at the two, Gojo hissed, "nothing happened, I squeezed too hard."
"Right," the two said in sync before eyeing one another, smirking and stifling a laugh.
Shoving past them as he kept walking ahead, grumbling to himself, Gojo couldn't help but peak over in your direction. You had already turned your attention back to the two on either side of you—Nanami along with Yu Haibara. Since when did they have a friend that was a girl? And when did you appear? He should've known seeing as both were his junior and both trained quite close to Suguru and himself. So you must've been new... He supposed he'd find more out about you, knowing he'd find a way to get under Nanami's skin and get anything out of him. He must've known a lot about you...
Gojo smirked to himself. He'd get his way.
"No," Nanami spoke as he crossed his arms. The confidence in Gojo's face instantly fading away. He didn't even hesitate, cancelling his plans with his best friends to bribe Kento into giving him some information. He swore taking his junior to his favorite bakery would help him out, but, no! Kento, being the wise boy he was, took advantage of Satoru paying for food in a false exchange for information. "I'm not going to be your middle man."
"Why not?!" Gojo whined, throwing himself back in his seat dramatically. "Just one thing! Something! Anything! She's the love of my life!"
Narrowing his eyes as he sipped away at his water, Nanami settled the glass down before crossing his arms once again. "Love of your life? You don't even know her name—"
"Because you won't tell me!" Gojo cried, throwing his head back and stomping his foot as if he was about to throw a tantrum. "Please, please! I beg of you, tell me something about her! Besides her name, what's her favorite color? Maybe her favorite food? Or... or what's her favorite date spot!"
"Satoru, I am not about to ask her what her favorite date spot is," Nanami deadpanned. "I'll give you her name and that's all. Everything else is on you. I'm not going to play matchmaker, let alone, set you up with someone so far out of your league."
Gasping in offense, Gojo clutched his chest. "Out of my league? Sure, she's a pure angel, a real heavenly being, but I like to think I am, too!"
"Egotistical..." Kento mumbled as Gojo frowned. "I'm only telling you one thing to get you off my back. You can't ask me anything ever again in order to get close to her. That's on you."
Pressing his hands together and interlocking his fingers, Gojo gave his best puppy eyes as he jutted out his bottom lip. "Please, I promise to leave you be after!"
"You better," the blond man grumbled before giving his senior your name. "She likes to sit under the cherry blossoms on the eastern side of the campus. If you want to find her and talk to her, she's usually there on her down time." At that, Nanami stood up and tucked his seat back into the table. Just as he was about to leave, he stopped in his tracks, turning to face the white haired young man. "All I ask of you is to be... gentle. She's a nice girl. I don't need you breaking her heart."
Sitting up with confidence as a wide grin took over his face, Satoru nodded with his thumbs up. "Believe me, I wont! I know this is love!" Seeing Nanami roll his eyes before leaving, Gojo happily sighed before looking out the window. Leaning his chin in the palm of his hand, he eyed the cherry blossom that had petals delicately swaying in the wind. "She's my soulmate, I know we are destined to be."
#haruno writes;#satoru gojo x you#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#gojo fluff#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#reader insert#fem reader#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n
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Since we had that story of Y/N Cookie wanting to keep the Ancients from going out and getting themselves killed up against Dark Enchantress Cookie, how about something similar with the Beasts?
>The Beasts get corrupted
>Y/N Cookie, not corrupted, tries to fight them, and fails
>cue them starting to die
>Beasts start panicking, completely overestimating how much Y/N Cookie could take
>Y/N Cookie, in their last moments, wishes they could’ve done more to help the Beasts not get corrupted before finally going
>Witch(es) stumble upon this scene, seeing their greatest cookie having been crumbled, along with whatever other carnage is around
>cue literally everything else
Being sealed away with the guilt of spilling jam from the cookie you all loved the most fresh on your mind? They are NOT gonna be doing so hot in there.
The Tale of the Forced Hand (The Five Beasts)
Witch’s Castle witches are pretty neat.
“The story begins when this very Silver Tree was only a small sapling…When the World of Desserts was at its infancy.”
“The Witches baked six Cookies to help them in their creation of the world.”
“..harness the radiance bestowed upon you for the betterment of this world…”
“And the six Cookies imbued with absolute powers walked Earthbread as almighty envoys of the Great Creators.”
“Knowledge, Volition, Compassion, Happiness, Change, and Solidarity.”
“The Dessert World bound by these Five Virtues was nothing short of paradise.”
Gingerbrave and Wizard Cookie chimed in with their responses.
“So those six Cookies were the original owners of the Soul Jam?”
“Huh…Those “Six Virtues” are different from those of the Soul Jams. There’s six of them, yet only five today…”
“The Virtue of Compassion is what held the other Virtues so closely together, cherishing each of them equally as much.”
“Alas, for they and the perfect age were short-lived. Absolute power begets nothing but arrogance. It inevitably corrupts its wielder, bringing them to the most tragic of ends…A fate even the Witches were unable to foresee.��
“One by one, the Five, once regarded as saviors of the Cookie World, gradually turned to Darkness. And thus, the Five Virtues, too, became distorted, twisted…reduced to Deceit, Apathy, Sloth, Destruction, and Silence….”
Strawberry Cookie shuddered in worry at the mere mention of the fallen virtues.
“Deceit, Apathy, Sloth, Destruction, and Silence..that sounds really scary…
“Wait, what about the Virtue of Compassion? They weren’t evil too, were they?”
“The Virtue of Compassion was able to prevail against their descent into Darkness with their Soul Jam, whereas now the Five Beasts, the apostles of evil, began their dark crusade…”
“The Witches asked of Compassion to protect the Cookie World from the Beast Cookies, lending them what strength they could give.”
“Compassion fought bravely against the Beasts, blocking each of their blows and resisting their sickly whispers…But it was only a matter of time before Compassion slowly began to whittle…”
———————————————————————
“Come on, snap out of you all! This isn’t what you guys once were!”
“What’s the big deal, silly willy~ There isn’t anything wrong with dabbling yourself in a little bit of Darkness, you should try it with us!”
“No! This isn’t you! You were all my best friends! Come to your senses! Now!”
“It pains me to see you still cling onto false hope that you’re different than the rest of us, darling~ Can you just let go and become who you really are? For me~?”
“I can’t…I cannot forsake my oath to protect the Cookie World. You all know that! Cookies that want happy lives, don’t you want that?”
“They will all meet the same fate in the end, reduced to nothing…the futility of all this should be clear to you…”
“As if! It isn’t pointless to live life the way you want it to! It’s how you spend it and make the most of it!”
“They will all crumble in the end, so why not give them a little push! You’re starting to really aggravate me now, Y/N Cookie!”
“I won’t let you hurt them and I don’t want to hurt you all any more then I have to! Please, don’t do this…”
“……”
“Your silence says everything I need to hear from you. I tried…but I will put a stop you no matter if I’m reduced to bits!”
———————————————————————
“Woah….What happened to them?”
“The Virtue of Compassion fought for as long as they were able, their dough slowly whittling away with every blow that dealt to them. The Beasts have overestimated just how durable their former friend was…and they perished right in the middle of the circle….”
———————————————————————
“Ok, ya silly goose! You can stand right back up now! You put on a great show, let us give you a round of applause!”
“Darling, we know we haven’t hit you too hard. You can join us and we can all be together once more as Beasts…”
“Hmm…they don’t seem to be responding to us…”
“Hey, Y/N Cookie. Quit being soft and get up already, you’re..starting to worry me a bit here, you know.”
Silent Salt Cookie knelt down and placed their thumb on your wrist…jumping back when they feel nothing…
“Ahaha! Okay! This isn’t funny anymore, you softie! You win! Stand up on your two feet now! I’ll make you if you don’t!”
“D-Darling? P-Please get up. Look, I’m sorry for what I said earlier, I-WE just really wanted you to join us…”
“Burning Spice Cookie, just how hard were your strikes to their dough?
“D-Don’t put any type of blame on me! All of you were just as rough with them as I was!”
“….!”
The Beast Cookies rushed to their fallen friend in the center, clearly distraught on their faces…
“Y/N Cookie, if you don’t stop playing jokes with me right now, I’ll never forgive you!”
“Darling! Wake up! I-I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have hit you so hard! Please wake up! You have to! Don’t leave me alone!”
“It was pointless to try and stop us, Y/N Cookie. Yet…my heart cries and aches, why did you have to resist….please, wake up…”
“God DAMN IT. I-I went too far, I shouldn’t have been so brutal with my swings and now look at you, your dough..damaged and ruined….because of me….”
“….Hmph….”
Silent Salt just lowered their head to look at the ground, feeling nothing but shame and remorse for what they had done…for what they all had done….
“I wish…I could’ve done more for you all…I wished…that I had loved all of you more…to not…end up like this...”
“…..I’m sorry…..”
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“The Witches couldn’t bear to see what fate had befallen their creations, made even more distraught at the loss of their greatest creation among them all…they punished the Beasts by sealing them away deep within this land…”
“And planted the seed of the Silver Tree to ensure their evil power never sees the light of day again. Right where the Virtue of Compassion was laid to rest, so that at least a part of them can live on….From then on, this land where the Beasts were put to sleep, was called Beast Yeast.”
“The Witches then gathered the last vestiges of power bestowed upon the Beasts, untouched by their corruption. They further cleansed, purified it, and in the end…Soul Jam was created. The purest Soul Jam was meant to be earned by Cookies who had proven themselves worthy.”
“All, but Compassion. For their purity simply could not be remade again. The Witch who personally baked Compassion had locked herself away in grief after the loss of her cookie and took the knowledge of the recipe and baking of Compassion with her…”
“So, there can never be another cookie like Compassion?”
“It’s what they say, but all life powder returns to the earth. It isn’t out of the realm of possibility that the Virtue of Compassion may return in some form, someday…”
Everyone’s eyes turned to Y/N Cookie, who was casually eating some food offered to them by the Faeries.
“…..What?”
#brittle answers#cookie run x you#cookie run x reader#cr x reader#cookie run#cookie run kingdom#crk x reader#cookie run kingdom x reader#cr kingdom#beast cookies x reader#beast cookies#shadow milk cookie x reader#mystic flour cookie x reader#eternal sugar cookie x reader#burning spice cookie x reader#silent salt cookie x reader#shadow milk cookie#eternal sugar cookie#mystic flour cookie#silent salt cookie#burning spice cookie#crk
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if its ok can i request a overblot boys and ruggie and kamil with a reader that just forgets to eat? like they can go the whole day without eating then suddenly they just get dizzy cause they haven't eaten and when they get asked why they passed out/not ate they're like "lol yeah i forgot to eat my bad gang🧍🏻" they're just so nonchalant and act like its whatever😭its ok if not if this makes you uncomfortable!! Love your blog pookie and make sure YOU eat properly💥💥
ahh... just like me fr. this ask actually reminded me to eat, thank you!
summary: reader who forgets to eat type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, ruggie, azul, jamil, kalim, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, mentions of food and not eating!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Riddle is also guilty of this
it's not that he's neglectful, it's just that...
...well... he's a little neglectful
it's usually Trey who has to remind him to take breaks from studying
none of that will stop him from scolding you, though
"What were you thinking, going a whole day without a meal? It's no wonder you're always so tired!"
expect lots of snacks from him after he's done berating you
he sends someone every day to make sure you've had something
(both a blessing and a curse)
you'll be in your room then suddenly Che'nya is there asking if you had lunch yet
and if not, you'll be recieving an invitation to Heartslabyul for tea
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Leona can't be bothered to ask why you're always so... out of it
he just assumes that's your personality
he even teases you for it, once or twice
then Jack offhandedly mentions that you rarely eat until dinner, and he gets all... worried
Ugh
suddenly, his room is always stocked with your favorite snacks from Sam's
what? no, they're not for you. he's just taken a liking to 'em. but you're welcome to have some if you'd like
his act is unconvincing
"What? Stop looking at me like that. I'm not some sap. I'm just making sure you don't go passing out on me,"
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Ruggie is worried that Crowley's cut your food rations
he'd been mooching off of you for a few months now, after all
plus, he knows what it's like to go hungry
of course, he doesn't outright ask. he doesn't want to embarrass you or anything
he just... casually offers to split meals and comes over once a week with half of his forage greens
"What, this? Nah, I just had extra. What, you're complaining about free food? Shishishi,"
you repay the gesture by making him a few meals, and it becomes a little tradition between the two of you
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
why, oh why, does Azul have to care about you so much?
he's become familiar that exact look on your face; distant, dizzy, disoriented...
and he's caught himself mid-scold far too many times
"Have you no sense of self-preservation? You can't keep relying on others to care for you; you'll only be taken advantage of,"
...and, of course, he's the poor soul who cares for you
he convinces himself that verbal reminders cost nothing
then he starts sending the tweels to make sure you've eaten
and then he insists you drop by the Mostro Lounge at least once a day
it's not that he's giving you his time and energy for free
he's just making an investment in you!
that's it. NOTHING ELSE! (<- lies)
(cue tweels giggling in the background)
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
poor Jamil
first Kalim, and now he has you to worry about, too?
of course; he has no obligation to help. that's what he tells himself
nothing will happen if he just ignores you
...except that sinking feeling in his stomach
Sevens, help him...
he starts letting you help around the kitchen
just... tidying up, doing the dishes, etc
and if you happen to want a bite of what he's cooking? ohoho, who is he to deny you the chance to test for poison?
(feigns to mention that these dishes have already been tasted)
"Good? Why, I'm flattered. You're welcome to help any time- how about tomorrow?"
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Kalim will never pass a chance to host
you offhandedly mention that you forget to eat sometimes? just come over for breakfast!
and lunch
and dinner!
and you'll stay for dessert, too, won't you?
he's nothing if not gracious, and he has a penchant for taking care of others
he likes feeling useful, after all
just be ready to give him your full thoughts and feelings on every dish; he's already making a mental list of your favorites to serve every time you come over
"Hungry? No problem! We have all your faves waiting for you. What music do you want to listen to while we eat?"
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
you know that Vil loves you, right?
so, so much?
good. because that love makes him want to shake you
of all the stupid things...
it's no use trying to hide it from him; you could look and act completely normal and he'd still see right through you
he can just tell
he has to restrain himself from threatening Crowley into letting you stay at Pomefiore so he can care for you
Vil believes you're capable, after all. you just need a little push
"I've set a daily reminder and stocked your kitchen. Remember that some food is better than none. If you need me for anything, I'll see to it as soon as possible,"
you can expect Epel and Rook to ask if you've eaten, on his behalf, every time you run into each other
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Idia sets like, 30 reminders in your phone
he knows as well as you do that three measly alarms won't be enough
...he, too, is guilty of forgetting to eat
he probably makes you a custom alarm sound and everything
a little pavlovian conditioning never hurt anyone, right? it's basically no different than training an AI
...or something like that
will send Ortho over to check your vitals every once in a while
"it's NBD. can't have u losing all your lives on me. who would tolerate me then?"
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
thank your lucky stars it's Malleus who notices your drowsiness first and not Lilia
Malleus, at least, will find you something edible to eat
he's trying to keep you alive, after all
he's very sweet and gentle about it
soft little reminders, nudges to keep you awake... he will up and leave a dorm meeting if he realizes he doesn't know if you'd had anything yet today
Malleus is very conscious about human mortality, and is very... delicate about it
he's just a little overprotective, that's all
it mostly comes to sharing little treats together every now and then. it feels less awkward when you're together, after all
"There is no need to thank me. I'm simply happy to spend my time with you,"
#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#riddle rosehearts x reader#leona kingscholar#ruggie bucchi x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#jamil viper x reader#kalim al asim x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#idia shroud x reader#malleus draconia x reader#queued
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I thought you'd be different | James Potter
Pairing: James Potter x Slytherin!Fem!Reader
Word Count: 4.6k
Summary: A cinderella story (maybe a little romeo and juliet while we're at it) but Hogwarts - Enemies-ish to lovers. You find an enchanted parchment through wich you anonymously talk to a stranger (James). When you meet him at the Yule ball, he is not who you expected, but you give him a chance. When you realise that was clearly a mistake, you flee cinderella style.
Probably part one of two again.
Notes: Not proofread, grammar mistakes. Discrimination issues, themes of bullying. Regulus is our friend. James is an idiot, but we knew that already. Sirius sucks.
Masterlist. Part two. Part three
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You could still remember the moment vividly, as if it was engraved in your memory. That moment when the sorting hat placed you in Slytherin instead of Gryffindor like your two older sisters had been sorted. You could still see the look of surprise, concern, horror and then eventually disgust, every time you close your eyes.
“Now we finally know your true colors,” is what your sister Alyssa had hissed coldly at you. You had pleadingly looked at your other sister, but Marla had supported her twin sister, disregarding the confused and scared look in your eleven-year-old eyes.
“Don’t talk to us, don’t look at us and don’t mention us at all,” she sneered down at you and for a moment you wondered how she hadn’t been the one to be sorted into Slytherin instead. But you had cast your eyes down and agreed.
But years passed and you had become the very stereotype of a Slytherin student, completely leaning into the cold, distant, quiet but calculating persona that your sisters had created for you. Might as well, you figured after your parent’s dismay at the revelation of your house.
You were making your way down the corridor, long strides as you passed your sisters while looking them straight in the eye. They grimaced at the sight of you, but without their entire group of classmates, they didn’t dare make any comments. A feeling of victory erupted inside of you, and you couldn’t help the small smirk that crept up your face.
“What poor soul suffered for you to look so satisfied?” You turned your head to look at the person who called out to you. James Potter and Sirius Black were both leaning against a statue in the open yard. “Did you get rid of Regulus or something?” Sirius taunted. “Finally had enough of him following you around, did you L/N?”
“Go die in a ditch, Sirius,” you retorted with an eye roll, but seemed unphased.
“Why so much hostility,” James unpleasantly remarked, and you halted in your step. “10 points from Gryffindor for loitering,” you pettily decided.
“If you have nothing to do, other than insulting students, I would love to recommend you to Professor McGonagall for detention. Heard she was still looking for the person who made all the pumpkins explode last week during Halloween, and you guys are terrible at getting rid of the evidence.” With a last glance up and down, you continued your way towards the room of requirement.
When you entered the sober room with a sigh, you noticed the small scrolled up piece of parchment in the middle of the room. You frowned. This was your space. The room didn’t open this space for anyone else, you made it specifically as a safe haven.
You cautiously approached the parchment and rolled it open to reveal nothing. It was completely blank. You shrugged. If the room left this here, it was meant for you, and so you took a seat and started drawing on it.
James sat in an empty room, his invisibility cloak hiding him from plain sight as he pulled the now folded paper from his back pocket. He inspected it closely, almost pressing the paper to his glasses in a curious manner. He had gone to the Room of Requirements earlier that day and found a piece of paper floating in the air.
James unfolded the paper, and his eyebrows flew up. Lines were appearing on the paper by itself, and a beautiful portrait of a weeping willow with a girl, crying on a bench under the tree appeared.
James fumbled to find his quill and ink. Then he started to write something on it, in a handwriting that he only ever used for written exams. Credits to Professor McGonagall, who had announced that she would not be grading anything she couldn’t read. And she had looked over her glasses at him while she said it.
It’s beautiful.
You dropped the parchment at the words that formed right under your drawing. You traced it with your fingers. Then you decided to write back.
Thank you, I’ve been dreaming about this for the past two days.
You frowned at yourself, unsure why you would disclose such information, but figured no one would be able to trace this back to you anyway.
James blinked at the response he got, mouth open in surprise. He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised. It must simply be a spell of some sort after all. He stared at the sad drawing and the sentence, and then he made up his mind, writing back.
It must be lonely for that girl to cry by herself under the weeping willow.
Your eyes followed the words that formed in a trance.
If she ever feels lonely again, she can always pour her heart out on this parchment. I’ll be the mighty guardian wizard that will make all her worries magically disappear.
A grateful smile made its way up your face and when you scribbled back a response, James couldn’t help but smile as well.
Maybe she will.
You doodled a wizard sitting on the bench next to the crying girl, a consoling hand stretched out.
That's how you became James’ best kept secret. He learned that you were indeed a student at Hogwarts, but that you felt lonely. That you enjoyed butterbeer, but never got to enjoy it on a Hogsmeade outing with friends, because you rarely had any. He learned that you felt inferior to your siblings and a disappointment to your parents. He noticed how you would draw a circle as the dot on your ‘i’ and learned, when he asked, that you did that because you had once seen Professor McGonagall do that when you were in your first year, and had practiced mimicking her handwriting, should it ever come in handy.
In return, he had told you that he felt pressured by the reputation that he had to maintain. He loved Quidditch and absolutely despised Ancient Runes, to which you had replied, “who doesn’t?”. He told you that he had illegally learned to become an Animagus, a stag, and that he wasn’t sure yet what the future would hold for him. He even revealed to you that he desperately wants to protect his friends and sometimes had nightmares, which usually resulted in a sneak around the castle at midnight. When you had asked him if he’d ever been caught, he responded with, “never”, and had explained to you that he had an invisibility cloak.
Two months passed and before you knew it, you were explaining Transfiguration through the enchanted parchment. You did conclude from this that your pen pal was most likely in a year or two higher than yourself but decided not to comment on it. James on the other hand, was under the assumption that you must be from his year, as you managed to help him study for his exams.
But now, it was almost 12 o’clock midnight, and James chewed his lip while he looked at the parchment. He hesitated for a moment. Then he decided to ask you the one question he had been yearning to know the answer to.
Who are you?
You looked at the paper sadly, and sighed.
You’d be disappointed.
I understand if you don’t want to reveal yourself. But know that I could never be disappointed by you, Willow.
James sighed when you didn’t answer anymore. He waved away the light that emitted from the tip of his wand and took his glasses off. He went to put the parchment under his pillow as usual, when he saw the scribbling movement that he’d gotten so accustomed to.
He scrambled to grab his wand to shed light on the paper but accidentally nudged them off the nightstand and onto the floor, where it rolled under his bed. James’ eyes flickered back to the paper in his hand, and he managed to catch the first letter of your name as it was written in capital letters.
But your cursive handwriting, the dark and lack of glasses made it impossible to read the rest of your name. When he finally reached his wand and put on his glasses, he heard the clock strike twelve and he cursed as he grasped the parchment tightly, hurried ‘lumos’ and saw that the parchment had reset itself to a blank page again, just as every night at 12 o’clock at midnight.
Wait, please! I didn’t catch it before it erased itself. Please write it again?
You let out a sigh in relief after you had internally bashed your head against a wall.
No, it was stupid of me. I’m glad you didn’t see it.
You leaned back into your armchair with a racing heart. You couldn’t believe you had done that.
“Regulus,” you acknowledged as you pulled the chair back to sit next to him in the library. “Y/N,” Regulus quietly responded without looking up from his book, and if you didn’t know any better, his straight face would indicate annoyance. Luckily, you did know better.
“You smile any brighter, the sorting hat will transfer you to Hufflepuff, you know,” you teased him.
His face distorted in a grimace and without missing a beat, he replied, “do kill me before such a thing occurs.” You shook your head and finally sat down. Then you pursed your lips in thought.
“You know how I’ve been working all summer to earn galleons?”
“No.”
“Well I did.”
“So it seems.”
“Anyway, I rented a small flat,” you blurted out. Regulus finally looked up at you, surprise almost evident on his face. Then again, you didn’t have the most amazing home situation either. You often opted to stay behind at Hogwarts for the holidays. It is how you two had befriended each other, especially ever since Sirius left him to his own devices at home. Parents, it was a trauma bonding thing.
“Congratulations,” he nodded, his voice trailed off as he tried to see how this would concern him.
“So I thought you might want to stay with me over the Christmas holidays? Your mother doesn’t hate me, so I thought it might be possible. Gives you a chance to get out once in a while.” You tentatively brought up the sensitive subject.
“And what makes you think living with you will be any more bearable than living in my own mansion?” Regulus snarkily remarked.
You squinted your eyes at him in a scowl. “A simple ‘no’ would suffice don’t you think?”
“Do I have to pay rent?”
“Depends on whether or not the answer impacts your decision.”
“So not then.”
You huffed.
“Fine, I suppose I could join you in your small flat.”
“Merlin, don’t go doing me any favors Reg, I wouldn’t want to owe you.”
Regulus shook his head in amusement.
Satisfied with your rather successful attempt to invite him over, you got up. The chair you sat on screeched loudly as it was being pushed back. You could feel the librarian’s furious eyes on your back and rolled your eyes at her as you made your way to the door. “Alright, alright, I’m leaving,” you waved your hand in the air and exited the room.
You made it approximately two steps when you spotted your sisters again. “Of course you would cause a disturbance in the library,” Marla spat at you. You raised your eyebrows but remained unimpressed.
“I see you’ve got your buddies to back you up now?” you commented and tilted your chin slightly upwards. Your eyes flickered to your other sister, their closest friends, and the marauders.
For a moment, you considered walking away, but there was just something about that twitching lip of your sister that had you irked.
You stepped forward, narrowing the gap between you and your sister. You leaned in slightly and then, “Boo.”
It took your other sister, Alyssa about one second to have her wand pulled out and pointed at your throat.
James watched the interaction with a small frown on his face. He didn’t really speak with the fellow Gryffindor twins, but their friends and Lily were friends, so the marauders had joined them on their way towards the courtyard.
His mind flickered to a conversation he had had with ‘Willow’ about her sisters, and he wondered if you felt the same sadness and inferiority as his pen pal. And with that in mind, he pulled Alyssa back by her robe with one harm, the other lowering her raised wand.
“Let’s not,” he shrugged, when she raised her brows in question at him.
“She clearly threatened my sister,” Alyssa defended.
You scoffed at that. “I said ‘boo’. That’s hardly a threat,” you rolled your eyes and glanced at James who tried to offer you something that resembled a smile.
Was he mocking you? “Fancy yourself a hero, don’t you, Potter.”
“Hey, I was just trying to help,” he raised his hands in defense.
“Cause you’re such a good soul,” you sarcastically remarked.
“Yeah, actually. At least better than you. That hostility is so uncalled for,” Sirius mumbled under his breath, and you shot him a glare. “Right, better than me. Let me ask the two-dozen tormented Slytherin students you’ve bullied this past year. Bet Snape will buy your self-proclaimed ‘kindness’.”
You were already walking away when Sirius opened his mouth to call something out to you, but James kicked his shins in attempt to shut him up. Your words resonated in his mind.
Maybe he was a twat.
Am I a twat?
What the bloody hell are you on about?
Someone called me a twat today. Now that wasn’t necessarily true, but the implications were there.
Did you deserve it?
Sort of.
Sort of?
I mean, I am only an asshole to people who are assholes themselves and deserve it. But I guess that makes me an asshole too.
You hesitated for a moment and decided to write your opinion on the matter.
Maybe you being an asshole to people makes them assholes. And then it becomes a vicious circle. Self-fulfilling prophecy and all that bogger.
You reckon?
Wouldn’t have written it down if I didn’t.
On a brighter note, do you have a date for the Yule ball after the exams?
If you’re asking me out, I already promised my friend that we’d go together.
Oh right. But would you save me a dance? Maybe at midnight under the main crystal chandelier?
James bit his lip again in suspense. The Yule ball is a masked ball anyways, if you don’t want to reveal yourself.
Midnight, main crystal chandelier. You decided to leave it at that. Besides. You could enchant the mask a little extra, so you’d be even more unrecognizable. You wondered who would be behind the kind words of the parchment.
It felt strange to you. Really looking forward to something to the point you could feel jitters in your stomach in anticipation. But it was having a certain effect on you that even the younger Black couldn’t help but miss.
Regulus squinted his eyes and moved his jaw in thought. When he had had enough, he pulled you aside.
“Out with it.”
You deflated. You knew that he knew what he was talking about, so you shrugged. “Someone asked me to save a dance next week,” you mumbled.
“And you want to?” Regulus’ tone shifted to an incredulous one.
“I found an enchanted parchment in the room of requirements and it’s connected. I’ve been using it to have conversations with a mystery person.”
It felt great to be able to share this with your friend and you leaned against the wall behind you. “So yeah.” You finished the confession with an awkward hand gesture.
Regulus took a moment to register what you said. And then, as if it was the most normal thing ever, he responded with, “I see. And you have no idea who?”
You let yourself slide down the wall and tiredly put your head on your propped up knees. “Probably a Gryffindor.”
Regulus started laughing. You snapped your head up and scowled at him, not that he was used to anything else from you.
“As long as it’s not a mudbl-“
You kicked his legs and made him lose his balance. You shot him a warning glance. “You know my opinion on that.”
Regulus sighed. You had once confided in him about your home situation, including that time when you had overheard your parents argue when you came home for the first time after having been sorted into Slytherin. Your father had addressed the matter as soon as you walked through the door.
“You’re no daughter of mine.” He had said with disapproval in his voice. It wasn’t meant as a figurative insult. It was a statement. Your father believed that you could simply not biologically be his daughter. The words had you avert your eyes to the floor in shame.
“My entire bloodline has been sorted into Gryffindor.” He had looked at your mother. “Your family does have Slytherins. She’s most likely the result of your affair with that muggle a decade ago. It is possible.” And just like that, he had practically disowned you.
“Okay,” Regulus relented. “We’ll see who it is next week.”
James was nervously looking around, standing partnerless in the middle of the dancefloor. He had long forgone the mask that he had chosen because it prevented him from using his glasses. He looked at the great clock just above the table with drinks and pulled a hand through his hair.
It was time, so where were you? Hopefully you hadn’t chickened out yet because he was absolutely dying to meet you.
There was just something about you. It sparked something in him that he hadn’t felt since Lily. He’d look forward to your messages all the time. Every morning, he practically jumped up in anticipation and excitement as he reached under his pillow to read your ‘good morning’ message for the day. A smile would pass his lips each time.
James was ripped from his thoughts when a hand was placed on his shoulder blade. It tapped twice. He stopped breathing for a moment before turning around. And then the breath was knocked out of both of you completely.
For two different reasons.
James stared in awe at you. You wore a white and silver dress, covered in diamonds. A delicate white mask covered the upper part of your face, and he stared intently at your eyes, but somehow, he still couldn’t pinpoint who you were.
He could see all of your features clearly, but as if he was in a dream, he somehow couldn’t piece everything together to identify you. A charm, he realized. He was disappointed but shook it off. If you felt insecure, then he wouldn’t push it.
James’ face broke out in a grin, and he stepped forward. He couldn’t help but reach out to your face. But you took a step back. His hand fell and he frowned at your reaction, suddenly scared. He wasn’t wearing a mask after all. Compared to you, he was completely vulnerable.
Before he could say anything, you cut him to it. “No,” you hoarsely managed. “This was a mistake.” You turned around and escaped from the center of the dancefloor. James chased you.
“Wait, please. I’m sorry!” He called out after you.
You slowed your pace when you reached the corner next to the staircase. Then you shook your head with a sight, and you pinched your nose. James could see your furrowed brows.
“You have nothing to be sorry about. But my intention wasn’t to dance with James Potter. It was a mistake. Sorry for wasting your time.”
James shook his head in his turn. “Don’t say that,” his eyes pleaded. “So you know who I am. Am I..” He hesitated. “Am I that bad? I don’t know if you’ve heard any rumors about me, or what made you have a bad impression of me, but I’m the one you’ve been talking to for the past months.” He looked at you desperately. “Give me a chance, please. I only ask for a dance.”
Your eyes flickered over his sad face. You knew James from all the pranks that he did, mostly committed towards your house. You knew him from the banters you had with him, and from crying students that you undid hexes for. You knew him from pushing him out of the way as he purposely blocked your path to throw insults at you.
But you also knew the boy from the enchanted paper. The one who listened to all your worries. Who offered advice and indulged into your hopes and dreams for the future. You knew the boy who confided in you all his deepest secrets and own insecurities. Who made your day and cheered you up with his jokes and positivity.
“I can give you a dance,” you caved, and you offered him your hand, which he scrambled to hold.
James was a fairly decent dance partner, you soon discovered as he guided you with grace. “So I suppose you dance often?”
“I just practiced a lot,” he sheepishly admitted. “I had to impress you somehow, you know. Someone like you had to be crazy out of my league after all.”
Your lips twitched. “I think you’ve got it all backwards, Potter.”
“You know you can call me James, right?”
“Well, James,” you enunciated his name. It felt weird on your tongue. You had only ever spoken his last name in contempt. “I’m not very liked by more than half the students of this castle.” You motioned towards your mask. “Hence the enchantment,” you added halfheartedly.
“You don’t have to tell me who you are,” James immediately assured you, and you did relax at his words. “I’m just really happy that you’re real.”
You let out a laugh. “Why would I not be real?”
“I don’t know,” James whined. “Maybe I was just talking to really sentient paper or something?”
His answer only made you laugh more. James’ grin only spread wider.
“Whoever you are, I wouldn’t judge you,” James added quietly. You watched him silently as you swayed around the room.
“That’d be a first,” you joked sadly, remembering your own family.
“What can I say, I’m just different,” James cheekily winked and then twirled you around.
“We’ll see about that, James. You have the rest of the night to convince me.”
The dance ended and you curtsied to each other, out of breath. “But you’ll have to excuse me while I go find a bench because my feet are killing me. These heels are no joke,” you groaned in pain and sort of started to limp your way back.
James quickly came to support you and held your waist as he escorted you back to the side of the room. When you discovered that there were not in fact any benches, you sat down on the first few steps of the staircase. He raised his eyebrows when you kicked off your heels and saw that the entire slipper was made of glass.
“I transfigured those shoes myself, you know,” you proudly stated. James looked at it in disbelief. “This can carry a human weight?”
“Yeah, it took a lot of different enchantments and attempts,” you admitted.
James’ disbelief changed to awe. He took a seat next to you and you two started chatting about random things. You looked at James’ profile as he talked about Quidditch and felt soft towards him. Maybe he really wasn’t so bad after all.
The two of you were deep into a conversation when you were interrupted .
“Who is this, Prongs?” Sirius curiously stepped forward and shook your hand. You couldn’t help but grimace at him.
You politely nodded and explained the situation, but even though you engaged into a civil, nonchalant conversation, you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable at the presence of James’ friends.
“Anyways,” Sirius leans in towards James. “Did you see Snape over there?” He nodded his head towards Snape, and you squinted your eyes at the boy in front of you.
“You’re not thinking of doing anything to him, are you,” you sharply asked. Both James and Sirius were taken aback by your new tone.
“Nothing harmful,” Sirius laughed, but it faded when you simply raised your eyebrows at him. Sirius looked towards James for help. James hesitated. He had been reluctant to indulge Sirius’ ideas ever since his conversation with you about being a twat. But Sirius was his friend.
“We’re just having a bit of fun,” James tried to explain. “We’re just joking around, besides, he’s in Slytherin, so definitely a blood supremacist.” Your face fell at his words.
You watched his features contort in disgust and suddenly you were eleven again, and all you could see was your sisters disgusted face.
By the time you had snapped out of it, Sirius was already making his way towards Snape. James had gotten up and his head flickered between you and his friend.
You got up as well.
“I really thought you’d be different, James.” You scoffed to yourself. “You really had me convinced there for a moment. But I understand that you’re really just a bully after all, blinded by prejudice. You really are a twat.”
James’ heart dropped at hearing you say those words. He felt ashamed and shook his head pleadingly as he searched for words. But the thing is, you couldn’t care less, because you were hurt too. So you turned around and fled up the stairs as fast as you could, just in case he would come after you.
“Hey Prongs, you coming or not?” Sirius called out. James looked back at Sirius as he contemplated his next move. He mouthed ‘no’, and then tried to run after you. But by the time he reached the hallway that you had disappeared to, you were nowhere in sight.
In denial, James ran towards the moving staircases and looked up, in hopes to find you there.
Had he looked down, maybe he would have caught the last shimmer of reflection of the diamonds on your dress.
James refused to give up, however and he started to knock on the paintings, hoping that they could tell him where you went. He just had to apologize.
A symphony of protests and yelling echoed within the hall. “Quiet you!” “Have you no respect for the sleeping?” “I will complain to Filch about this, young man!” “Leave us alone!”
When the voices resided, most portraits were empty, their contents having escaped elsewhere.
Defeated, James groaned and hit his head with his fists. “You stupid git!” he yelled out in frustration at himself. James slouched down to sit on the stairs. Then he reached for the parchment and a pen in the inner pocket of his jacket and started scrambling something down.
“Please answer,” he whispered. He almost had to laugh at how pathetic he must look.
You sat on your bed after having made your way to the Slytherin dorms.
I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know why I said that. I’m stupid and I ruined everything. Please let me make it up to you. I enjoy being with you, I don’t want you to think of me like this.
Like I said before, this was clearly a mistake.
James read your words over and over again and he buried his face in his hands in shame. He stayed there for a long while and by the time he returned to the room, the party was over, and people had started returning to bed. On the left side of the staircase were your enchanted glass slippers precisely where you’d kicked the off and left them.
Preview of part two
Part two
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played me like a clarinet - rafe cameron (two)
request: "Desperately-on my knees-begging for a ''She's all that'' from 1999, with Popular Rafe x Reader. Ooouff, and you want that soul crushing heartbreak when she finds out about the bet he had made" pairing: rafe x smart!nerdy!reader. warnings: more angst <3; read part one here
Rafe can’t pinpoint the exact moment he fell for you.
Maybe it was that late-night study session in the library, when you two were the only ones left, books spread out around you in a chaotic mess. You were focused, and determined to get through the material, but you still found time to crack a joke about the professor’s outdated references. It caught him off guard, the way your eyes lit up with humor, and he found himself smiling back, genuinely for the first time in a while.
Or maybe it was the day you dragged him out of bed for an early morning hike, insisting that the sunrise was something he couldn’t miss. He was grumpy, still half-asleep, but the way you looked at the horizon with pure wonder in your eyes made it all worth it. You were always pulling him into these little adventures—moments he would’ve missed if it weren’t for you. And each time, he found himself enjoying them more because you were there.
Maybe it was when you’d curl up next to him in his dorm room, no words needed, just the comfort of each other’s presence. You didn’t ask for anything from him, didn’t expect him to be anyone but himself. It was in those moments that Rafe started to realize how much he needed you—how much he craved the simplicity of just being with you.
Then there was that day in the quad, where you were sitting with a group of friends, laughing about something he couldn’t hear from where he stood. You looked so at ease, so effortlessly yourself, that he couldn’t take his eyes off you. It hit him then, a quiet revelation that left him breathless: you weren’t just someone he enjoyed being around. You were someone he couldn’t imagine being without.
He started looking forward to the little things—walking you to class, the way your hand would brush against his as you walked side by side, the shared meals where you’d always steal fries off his plate with a mischievous grin. He fell for the way you listened to him, really listened, even when he was just venting about something trivial. You made him feel seen and understood in a way no one else ever had.
Rafe might not be able to pinpoint the exact moment he fell for you, but he knows that somewhere along the way, you became his favorite part of every day. You made him want to be better, to live up to the version of himself that you seemed to see, even when he struggled to see it himself.
Of course, he had to fuck up the best thing to happen in his life.
He had never been good at keeping good things close. Maybe it was fear, maybe it was self-sabotage, or maybe he just didn’t know how to handle something real. He didn’t mean to—he never wanted to hurt you—but somehow, he always found a way to mess things up.
He’d forgotten all about the stupid bet. No one had mentioned it in months, he figured it was over. Gone. Like they had never planned it in the first place. It was so fucking stupid of him. He figured it was over, a distant memory that held no weight against what you meant to him now. But he was wrong. So fucking wrong.
The damage was done. He’d never forget the look on your face when you confronted him. It nearly undid him right there. He tried to explain, to tell you that the bet was meaningless, that it hadn’t mattered from the moment he truly got to know you. But every word felt hollow, wrong, as if he was trying to patch up a wound that was too deep to heal. He hadn’t meant to fall for you, hadn’t expected you to become the most important person in his life.
But you did.
You walked out that day, and he didn’t have the strength to stop you. He couldn’t, because deep down, he knew he had no right to ask you to stay. He had fucked up in the worst way
Rafe tried to tell himself that it was for the best, that you were better off without him, but every day without you only proved how wrong he was. He missed you—God, he missed you more than he thought possible. Nights were the worst. He would lay awake, staring at the ceiling, replaying everything over and over again, wishing he could go back, undo it all. But he couldn't.
He'd see you around campus sometimes. But there was a distance now—a wall that he had put there, and it killed him to know that he was the reason for it.
Whenever your eyes met, there was no warmth, no recognition. It was as if he had become just a stranger to you, and it tore him apart.
Rafe knew he needed to give you space, but the thought of never having you in his life again was unbearable. He would catch himself walking in your direction, only to stop short, turning away because he didn't want to cause you more pain. But he wanted to talk to you, to explain himself better, to make you understand that he never meant for any of this to happen. The words never came out right in his head, and he doubted they ever would in person. But still, he wanted to try.
And then one day, as he was walking through the quad, he saw you sitting alone on a bench, reading a book. For a moment, it felt like old times, when he could just walk over, sit beside you, and everything would be okay. But it wasn’t like that anymore. His chest tightened as he watched you, the familiar ache swelling up inside him.
He was just about to turn away when he heard a familiar voice behind him.
"Rafe, man! There you are!"
It was Kelce, along with a couple of their friends. They were laughing, completely oblivious to his situation. Rafe stiffened, his jaw clenching as he realized what was about to happen. He tried to subtly signal Kelce to keep it down, to not draw any more attention to him—or worse, to you.
But it was too late. Kelce was already too close, and you had already noticed the group approaching. Your eyes flickered from your book to them, and then to Rafe, your expression unreadable.
Kelce, noticing your gaze, gave you a nod and then turned to Rafe, still grinning.
The fucking nerve he had was astonishing.
"What are you doing over here, man? Stalking her now, or just reminiscing?"
Rafe shot him a look, but he just laughed, clearly thinking it was all in good fun.
"C'mon, we were just heading to grab some food. You should join us."
All he could think about was the last time Kelce had been involved in his life—how it was his drunken confession that had ultimately led to this entire mess. Rafe hadn’t forgotten how he had blurted out the truth about the bet to someone else. And now, here he was again, completely fucking oblivious to what he’d done.
Rafe could feel your eyes on him, and it made his skin prickle with unease. He wanted to say something, to explain that this wasn’t what it looked like, that he wasn’t here with them, but the words caught in his throat. He glanced at you, searching for some sign of what you were thinking, but your face was carefully neutral.
Before he could even try to say anything, you stood up, tucking your book under your arm. Without a word, you walked away, leaving Rafe standing there, feeling more lost than ever.
Kelce, still clueless, nudged him. “Come on, let’s go.”
He shook his head, finally finding his voice. “You guys go ahead. I’ll catch up later.”
Kelce shrugged and turned to leave with the others, but not before throwing a careless comment over his shoulder. “Don’t get too caught up, man. There’s plenty of other fish in the sea.”
He wanted to punch him so fucking bad it hurt.
He took a deep breath. But all he could think about was the look on your face as you walked away. That blank, unreadable expression had become all too familiar. It was worse than anger—it was indifference.
And Rafe knew that was entirely his fault.
As they walked off, he sank down onto the bench you had just vacated. The warmth from where you’d been sitting still lingered, a cruel reminder of how close you’d been, and yet so far out of reach. He buried his face in his hands, groaning.
What the fuck was he doing? Lurking around you like some creep because he didn’t have the balls to talk to you. Every part of him was still tethered to you.
He hadn't even been brave enough to tell you he loved you. You had walked away thinking you were just a bet. You had walked away believing you were nothing more than a stupid game. And he had let you. He had let you walk away without telling you the truth.
He didn’t just care for you. He didn’t just like you. He was in love with you.
He knew he couldn’t keep doing this—couldn’t keep watching you from a distance, hoping for some kind of miracle. If he wanted any chance of making things right, he had to take that chance himself. He had to face the mess he’d made, no matter how terrifying it was. Because losing you forever was a thousand times worse than the fear of rejection or the pain of knowing he’d hurt you.
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You’d been trying to move on.
It was the only way to handle what had happened between you and Rafe. You fought to ignore the ache in your chest, to keep yourself busy enough that you wouldn’t have time to think about him.
But the truth was, moving on wasn’t as simple as just letting time pass.
You’d always felt like you had a good handle on things, that you could manage your emotions with a certain degree of control. But this was different. This was a kind of pain you’d never felt before, that crept into your days, making you wary of every familiar corner of campus, every spot you and Rafe had shared. You’d hoped that the sting would slowly fade, that the distance would bring relief. Instead, it seemed to only make things worse for you.
When you saw him in the quad that day with his friends, your heart sank. You tried to focus on your book, tried to drown out the sound of their laughter, but it was impossible. You knew that, despite everything, you would still recognize him in a crowd. It was as if your heart had a direct line to him, a constant reminder of the last time you had seen him.
You had tried so hard to keep your composure, to act like seeing him didn’t matter.
But it did. So much it nearly brought you to tears on the spot. But you weren’t about to cry in public, again, for him.
Kelce’s comment reached your ears as you walked away and you felt a fresh wave of hurt. The way he laughed, as if the entire situation was a joke, made your stomach churn. It wasn’t just the bet—it was everything. It was the way Rafe had made you feel like you were just another game to be won and then discarded. It was the fact he was still hanging around that kind of people. It was the fact he hadn’t tried to speak to you yet.
You didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing you hurt, but having your heart broken hurt like a bitch.
You thought you were going insane when Jessica, more precisely Rafe’s ex-girlfriend, sat next to you in the locker room before practice.
“I'm sorry about him.”
You didn’t spare her a glance, afraid that this was just another sick game you were getting sucked into, “About who?”
Jessica let out a small, humorless laugh. "Fair enough," She paused, her voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “Rafe.”
You didn’t want to talk about him. Bringing him up meant everything was real.
“I’m not here to stir up drama or anything,” she continued, her tone surprisingly sincere. “I just…I wanted to say I’m sorry. For what he did to you. He’s better than that.”
You finally glanced over at her, skepticism clear in your eyes. “Why are you telling me this?”
Jessica shrugged, leaning back against the bench, “Because you didn’t deserve it. But also because that idiot is clearly in love with you.”
“Love?” The word felt foreign on your tongue, almost laughable after everything that had happened. “That’s ridiculous.”
“I’m serious.”
There was something in her voice that made you falter, a quiet vulnerability that you hadn’t expected. Jessica had always seemed so put-together, so confident, but now, sitting beside you, she looked almost… defeated.
Jess sighed, “Look, I’m not here to defend him. What he did was fucked up, and he knows it. But I’ve known Rafe a long time, and I’ve never seen him like this before. He’s a mess without you. He won’t admit it, but it’s obvious to anyone who’s paying attention.”
You shook your head, “If he really cared, he would’ve told me. He would’ve tried.”
“Maybe he’s scared,” Jessica offered. “I mean, he’s always been good at screwing things up. Pushing people away before they get too close. It’s like his defense mechanism or something.”
You laughed bitterly. “Well, he succeeded. He pushed me so far away, I don’t think I can ever come back.”
“I get it. But just don’t close yourself off completely. If there’s even a small part of you that still cares about him, maybe give him a chance to explain. He’s not perfect, but he’s not the guy who made that bet anymore.”
You didn’t know what to say to that.
“Why do you care?”
“Because I hurt him even though I cared for him. What I did was a lot worse, so— Yeah. He lashes out when he’s hurt, unfortunately you got caught in the way. But the way he looks at you? We dated for two years and that motherfucker never looked at me like that."
You felt like crying all over again.
You nodded slowly. You had let Rafe see you, let him into parts of your life that you didn’t share with just anyone. And then, just like that, he had shattered everything.
Her voice broke through your thoughts again.
“I’m not saying you should forgive him, or even take him back. That’s your choice, and no one can make it for you. But I just wanted you to know that he’s different with you. Maybe he doesn’t deserve another chance, but I think he’s trying to be better because of you.”
“I don’t know if I can trust him again,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
“That’s okay,” Jessica said gently. “Trust isn’t something that can be fixed overnight. It takes time. But maybe it’s worth considering—if you think he’s worth it.”
You sat in silence for a while, the noise of the locker room fading into the background as you both lost yourselves in your thoughts. You had been so sure that moving on was the only way forward, that putting as much distance between you and Rafe as possible was the best option.
With that, she stood up, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze before heading toward the exit. You watched her go. You had never really thought much about Jessica beyond the typical assumptions. She was Rafe’s ex, the girl who had been with him before you, your cheer squad captain. That was the extent of it. You’d never really seen parts of the real her. You knew she’d left him for someone else, but you strangely felt a connection to her. Like she was the only one listening, understanding how you really felt.
You hadn’t expected her to be so… human. Vulnerable.
You leaned back against the cold metal of the locker, staring at the ceiling. The idea of trusting him again seemed impossible, like trying to glue together a shattered vase with pieces still missing. But what Jessica had said struck a chord—he was different with you. You’d seen it too, those moments when he’d let his guard down, when he’d been genuine, real.
Practice started, but your mind wasn’t in it. Your movements felt mechanical, your usual enthusiasm gone. You kept replaying everything in your head. By the end of practice, you were exhausted, both physically and emotionally.
Back in your room, you dropped your bag by the door and collapsed onto your bed. The familiar surroundings offered little comfort. You pulled out your phone, scrolling through your messages, half-expecting one from Rafe that never came.
But maybe, just maybe, it was time to take a sledgehammer the wall between you two. You sat up, taking a deep breath. If you were going to do this—if you were going to even entertain the idea of talking to Rafe—you needed to be honest with yourself first. You still cared about him. You’d tried to bury those feelings, tried to convince yourself that you were over it, but the truth was, you weren’t. Not completely. Before you could overthink it, you grabbed your phone and opened a new message.
We need to talk.
Your finger hovered over the send button for what felt like an eternity. Once you pressed it, there was no going back. But maybe that was the point. You couldn’t keep living in this limbo, caught between the past and the future.
With a final deep breath, you hit send.
The wait felt unbearable. You stared at your phone, willing it to light up, to give you some kind of response. And then, just when you were about to give up, it buzzed in your hand.
Rafe: Yeah, we do. Tonight?
Oh god.
Where?
You were really doing this.
Rafe: Your dorm?
Was talking to the boy who shattered your heart and trust in a secluded place a good idea? No. But you were tired.
Okay.
You set your phone down, heart racing. The reality of what you’d just agreed to hit you like a punch, leaving you feeling both terrified and relieved. You’d spent so long avoiding this conversation, but now there was no more running.
As you waited, every minute felt like an eternity. You tried to distract yourself, but your mind kept wandering back to the idea of seeing him again, of hearing his voice, of looking into those eyes that had once made you feel safe. Now, they were just a reminder of the pain.
When a knock finally echoed through your dorm room, you jumped. For a moment, you debated not answering, pretending you weren’t there. But you couldn’t keep avoiding this forever. You crossed the room, your hand hesitating on the doorknob before you pulled it open.
Rafe stood there, looking more nervous than you’d ever seen him. His usual confident posture was gone.He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes searching yours as if trying to gauge how much of a mess he’d made.
“Hi,” he said, his voice low, uncertain.
You nodded, stepping aside to let him in. The door closed behind him with a soft click, the sound somehow amplifying the tension between you. You both stood there for a moment, neither of you knowing where to start.
He was the first to break the silence. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out, the words rushed, like he’d been holding them in for too long. “For everything. I was an idiot, and I—”
“Yeah,” you cut him off, unable to keep the bitterness out of your voice. “You were.”
Rafe flinched, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he nodded, accepting your anger like he knew he deserved it. He looked down at the floor, his hands clenched at his sides.
“I don’t even know where to start,” he admitted, “I screwed up. I know that. And I’ve been trying to figure out how to fix it, but I don’t know how.”
You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to keep a distance between you both, both physically and emotionally. “Why didn’t you just tell me the truth?” you asked, your voice trembling with the weight of all the unanswered questions. “Why did you let it get to this point?”
“I was terrified,” he murmured, his voice so soft it almost broke. “Of what you’d think of me. Of how you’d see me if you knew the truth. I didn’t want to lose you.”
“But you did,” you said, your voice trembling with the weight of your hurt. “You lost me the moment you chose to lie.”
Rafe’s throat tightened as he swallowed, his nod filled with anguish. “I know. And I despise myself for it. But I—God, I didn’t know how to stop it. It was like everything spiraled out of control, and by the time I realized how deep I was, it was too late.”
It didn’t feel right to tell you he loved you right now. It would be unfair to you. It would feel like he was only saying it to get you back. So he settled for anything else.
You could see the struggle in him, the way his hands fidgeted slightly, his weight shifting from one foot to the other. He was here, in front of you, trying to make things right—or at least as right as they could be after what he’d done.
“Rafe,” you started, your voice calmer than you felt, “I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for what you did. The way you hurt me—it’s not something that just goes away because you’re sorry.”
He took a step closer, his hands shaking as he reached out to you but stopped himself, not daring to touch you without permission. “I get it,” he said quietly. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. I just—” He paused, struggling to find the right words. “I just want you to know that I’m trying to change. I’m trying to be better, even if it’s too late for us.”
You let out a slow breath, your heart still aching, but something in his voice, the way he seemed so genuinely broken, tugged at you. “I can’t just pretend like everything is okay.”
“I don’t want you to,” Rafe said quickly, desperation creeping into his voice. “I don’t deserve that. But I can’t stand the thought of losing you completely. Even if you don’t forgive me, I still want you in my life.”
You looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the sincerity in his eyes. It was hard to reconcile this version of him with the one who had shattered your trust. But maybe that was the point—people were complicated, and sometimes they didn’t fit neatly into the boxes you wanted them to.
“We can try to be friends. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, and I’m not saying it’ll work, but we can try.”
“I’d like that. I’d really like that,” he said, his voice almost breaking. “I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give.”
Friends.
The word sounded weird when you said it out loud.
The first few interactions were awkward—half-hearted smiles, stilted conversations, but both of you were trying. You started to see each other around campus more often, exchanging brief greetings that gradually turned into longer conversations. Rafe kept his distance, respecting your boundaries, but it was clear he was trying. He showed up at places he knew you'd be—not in a creepy way, but more like he wanted to be near you, to remind you that he was still there.
There were moments when the old him, your Rafe, the one who had made you laugh and pulled you into adventures, would slip through. He’d make a sarcastic comment in class, and you’d catch yourself smiling. Or he’d casually bring you coffee during your study sessions, just the way you liked it, without making a big deal out of it.
You started to remember why you had fallen for him in the first place—his humor, his kindness, the way he could make you feel like you were the only person in the room. It wasn’t easy, though. Every time you began to let your guard down, a voice in the back of your head reminded you of the bet. You were friends, that was it.
The cafeteria buzzed with the usual lunchtime chatter as you and Rafe sat across from each other, trays of food between you. It had become something of a routine—meeting up for lunch between classes. What had started as an awkward attempt to maintain your friendship had slowly become one of the highlights of your day. The easy banter was back, the kind that had drawn you to him in the first place, and it was nice to feel some semblance of normalcy returning between you two.
As you took a bite of your sandwich, you noticed Rafe was unusually quiet, focused intently on you. It made you self-conscious, the way his eyes seemed to see straight through you, and you couldn’t help but squirm a little under his scrutiny.
“What?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you tried to sound casual.
He just shrugged, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Nothing. Just thinking.”
“About?”
“About how good it feels to have this again,” he said softly, his words wrapping around your heart and squeezing tight.
Before you could respond, a voice interrupted the moment. “Hey, Rafe.”
You both looked up to see a girl from your econ class standing beside your table. She was pretty, with a confident smile that didn’t waver even as she glanced between the two of you. You recognized her—Luíza, or something like that.
“Hi,” Rafe replied, his tone polite but distracted. His eyes flickered back to you almost immediately, as if he was already bored with the conversation.
She didn’t seem to notice—or care. She flashed him a bright smile and leaned a little closer, clearly ignoring your presence. “Wondering if you’d want to study together for the next exam? I’m struggling with some of the material, and you seem like you really know your stuff.”
Well, he did. Because you were smart enough for both of you and a hell of a tutor.
He barely spared her a glance, his focus still on you. “I’m good, thanks,” he said casually, picking up his drink and taking a sip.
She blinked, momentarily thrown off by his disinterest, but she quickly recovered. “Oh, come on,” she purred, undeterred. “I’m sure we could help each other out. Maybe over dinner?”
You felt a wave of irritation rising, but before you could say anything, Rafe finally looked at her, “I’m not interested,” he said bluntly, then turned back to you, his eyes softening instantly. “So, what were you saying?”
The sudden change in his demeanor caught you off guard, and you felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment. Luíza, clearly realizing she was getting nowhere, shot you a glare before muttering something under her breath and walking away, her heels clicking sharply on the floor.
You stared after her, your heart pounding. When you finally turned back to him, he was watching you with an amused expression, as if nothing had happened.
“What the hell was that?” you demanded.
He just shrugged, completely unfazed. “What do you mean?”
“You didn’t have to be so rude to her,” you snapped, though part of you was secretly pleased. “She was just being nice.”
Rafe leaned back in his chair, giving you that infuriatingly calm look. “She wasn’t just being nice, and y’know it.”
You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Still, you could’ve handled it better.”
He smirked, clearly enjoying how flustered you were getting. “Why would I? I wasn’t interested. You know who I want.”
Him and his stupid mouth.
The directness of his words sent a shiver down your spine. There was no mistaking the meaning behind them, and it made your heart race in a way you hadn’t expected. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but the words died on your lips. Instead, you just stared at him.
Rafe seemed to take pity on you, leaning forward and lowering his voice. “I’m not playing games here,” his gaze locked onto yours, “You’re the only one I’m interested in. No one else.”
Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, all the doubts and uncertainties you’d been holding onto felt insignificant. You wanted to argue, to tell him off, but the way he was looking at you made it impossible to think straight.
You took a deep breath, clearing your thoughts, “This doesn’t change anything,” you muttered, though even you could hear the lack of conviction in your voice.
“I know.”
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The week had been a blur of exams, stress, and late-night study sessions. Your head was spinning from all the notes, formulas, and flashcards when Rafe found you slumped over your desk in the library.
“You need a break,” he said, gently tapping the back of your chair with his foot.
You sighed, rubbing your tired eyes. “I can’t. I still have two more chapters to get through before tomorrow.”
“Trust me,” Rafe insisted, “Come on sweets, let’s go shoot some hoops.”
You looked at him skeptically. “You know I’m terrible at it.”
“That’s why I’m going to teach you,” he grinned, his confidence contagious. “Come on, you’ve been helping me study all week.”
Reluctantly, you let him pull you out of the library and onto the campus basketball court. It was empty, the sun just beginning to set, casting long shadows across the pavement.
He handed you a basketball, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Okay, show me what you’ve got.”
You dribbled the ball awkwardly, trying to recall the little you knew about the game. When you attempted a shot, the ball sailed way off the mark, bouncing across the court.
He laughed, jogging over to retrieve it. “Alright, not bad for a first try. Lemme show you how it’s done.”
He stood behind you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body. His hands guided yours, positioning the ball just right. “Keep your elbows in, aim for the backboard, and follow through with your wrists. Like this.”
You tried to focus on his instructions, but it was difficult with him so close, his breath warm against your ear. You missed him. You made the shot, and though it didn’t go in, it was closer than your last attempt.
“Better!” he encouraged, still holding your hands on the ball. You could feel his heartbeat through your back.
You turned your head slightly, and your eyes met his. Rafe’s attention dropped to your lips, his grip on the ball tightening. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the same one that had been gnawing at you for days. This wasn’t just friendship—you were aware of that, of course. There was always something more here.
Without thinking, you stepped back to face him fully, and in that instant, your foot caught on his, throwing you off balance. You fell forward, your hands clutching at his shirt for support as you tumbled against his chest. His strong arms wrapped around you instinctively, steadying you as you both laughed, the moment both awkward and perfect. You were so close now, his face inches from yours, your breath mingling in the space between you. The laughter faded, and so did your common sense, because you didn’t push him away. His hand came up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch lingering on your cheek.
“Rafe...” you began, but the words caught in your throat.
You knew that look in his face. You knew every little thing about him. It was as if he was asking for permission, waiting for you to make the next move. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, every nerve in your body screaming at you to close the gap between you. But before you could act on it, the sound of voices echoed from the other side of the court, breaking the spell.
Oh god. You were about to ruin everything.
You both stepped back. Rafe looked away, a pained expression crossing his face, eyes pitched closed as he ran a hand through his hair.
“We should, uh, probably get back to studying.”
“Yeah."
As you walked back to the library, side by side but not quite touching, you couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if you hadn’t been interrupted. And from the way Rafe kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, you knew he was thinking the same thing.
He opened the door for you, his hand brushing yours as you passed. The touch was brief, but it was enough to send your heart racing again. Once inside, you both settled back into your usual spot, surrounded by stacks of books and papers. But studying felt impossible now. Every time you looked up, you caught Rafe’s eyes lingering on you, only for him to quickly look away when you noticed.
After what felt like an eternity of trying—and failing—to focus, he finally broke the silence. “Look, about what happened back there…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I didn’t mean to make things weird.”
You shook your head quickly, trying to dismiss his concern. “It’s okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
No. Not at all. You missed everything about him even when he was standing so close to you.
His fingers drummed against the table as he debated his next words, but you beat him to it.
“It’s just… things are different now,” your attention dropped to the open book in front of you.
“Different how?” His voice was low, almost tentative, a rare thing for Rafe. He leaned in slightly, waiting for you to elaborate.
You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to look up, “Can we not do this right now? Please? ‘M really tired."
His shoulders slumped. He wanted to argue, to push you for more, but he could see the exhaustion in your eyes—the way this was all taking a toll on you. He nodded slowly, swallowing back the urge to fight.
"Yeah, okay," he leaned back in his chair. "We can just focus on studying."
But neither of you could focus. You kept your eyes on the pages of your book, but the words blurred together, your mind unable to process anything other than the way Rafe was sitting so close yet felt so far away.
Minutes ticked by, the silence between you stretching on, both of you too afraid to break it. You could feel him watching you, his gaze a weight that you couldn’t ignore, but you didn’t dare to look up, not trusting yourself with what you might see in his eyes.
Finally, he sighed, the sound heavy with frustration. "I can’t do this," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to you.
You glanced up, your heart skipping a beat at the vulnerability on his face. He looked torn, like he was fighting an internal battle that he didn’t know how to win.
"Do what?"
“Pretend like everything’s fine. Like we’re just friends. Because we’re not, and we both know it."
The honesty in his voice made your throat tighten. You’d been trying so hard to keep things simple, to keep your emotions in check.
“You said you’d take anything I give you. It's been a month.”
Rafe groaned, rubbing his face in frustration. “I know that. And you’re my friend, fuck, you’re my best friend but every time I look at you— I feel like I’m dying.”
“What do you think I feel like?” you snapped, slamming your book shut. “You wanna talk about hurt feelings?
His face paled, and for a moment, he looked as though he might argue back, but then he just sighed, defeated.
“I know, okay? I know I messed up. And I’m not asking for you to forget that,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost broken. “But pretending like we can just go back to being friends is killing me.”
“I don't want to talk about it."
He stared at you, his eyes searching your face for something—anything—that would give him a clue about what you were feeling. But you couldn’t look at him, not with your heart so conflicted, not with the memories of how things used to be clashing so violently with the reality of now.
Finally, you spoke, “I think I need time.”
“Time for what?” he asked, his tone careful, but you could hear the desperation beneath it. He needed to understand, needed to know if there was still hope.
“To be away from you,” You swallowed hard, the words catching in your throat as his face fell into a frown, “Maybe it’s too early.”
He didn’t push you. He just nodded.
“Okay. Take all the time you need,” he said even though you could tell it was killing him to say it. “I’ll be here. Waiting. No matter how long it takes.”
You nodded, unable to say anything else.
“I think I should go,” you said finally, standing up and gathering your things. You couldn’t handle being around him right now, not when your feelings were exposed.
Rafe stood too, but he didn’t try to stop you. He just watched you with that same look of quiet desperation, as if he was afraid that letting you go now meant losing you forever
“Okay.”
You turned to leave, but then you hesitated, your heart pulling you back. Without turning around, you whispered, “I’ll see you later, Rafe.”
He didn’t respond right away, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if he even heard you. But then he said, “I’ll be here.”
And as you walked away, your chest tight and your thoughts racing, you couldn’t help but wonder if things between you and Rafe could ever really go back to the way they were.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron au#rafe x reader#rafe fic#rafe cameron angst#rafe angst#rafe x you#rafe imagine#rafe x y/n#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron fluff#rafe outer banks
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⭐️Yandere Husband x reader⭐️
Premise: Your husband really wants kids, but you're not really all for the idea
Warning: Noncon, breeding, fem reader
Minors DNI
You prepared a cute little basket with bread, some homemade jam and a couple of sandwiches along with a delicious strawberry cake you baked just for today! You look up at the playground from where you're sitting, the breeze feeling just right. It's a beautiful day out. Kids playing, people walking their dogs, couples like yourself picnicking. You and your husband have been together for three years and married one. He's the sweetest man in the world and you couldn't feel luckier to be with him. Your mother introduced him to you. He was her close friend's son. His mother and yours just so happen to go to the same knitting class. Although his mother was of a higher class, your mother and his had a lot in common and hit it off right away. Your mother would have buried you six feet deep if you refused to see him, not that you would've. He's handsome, sweet and has a well-paying job. Of course, that's the side of him that he allows you to see.
He begged his mom to introduce you after he saw you sitting on your porch one day when he was picking his mother up from your house. You waved at him and smiled. His heart was about to pop out of his chest. Your beauty was nothing he'd ever even imagined before. Everything about you is perfect. Everything. He asked his mother about you as soon as he drove off. She was more than happy to tell him. She's quite fond of you and would choose you as a daughter-in-law over anyone else. She couldn't be happier that her beloved first son has shown interest in a jewel like you.
He couldn't help but fall even deeper in love when he got to meet with you. Your voice rings bells in his heart and your eyes speak to his soul. He knew from then on that you were made for each other. He would never admit it, but he's absolutely obsessed with you. He would prefer to say that he's in love with you. Dating was smooth. He quickly proposed as soon as an appropriate amount of time passed. It couldn't come soon enough to him. You're so sweet and understanding. So thoughtful and intelligent. You share interests and when you don't, you make the effort to try. So does he, of course. You're so perfect.
Once married, he was happy to go to work and come back to your loving embrace. He'd rather die than have you support yourself. Anything you want, anything you need is yours. You don't even have to ask, your husband is very observant. You might mention something in passing that he'll overhear. Something small, something you didn't even put a lot of focus into, but he'll remember. He'll remember and he'll get it for you as soon as possible. He'd do anything...and that means anything. If anyone made you cry, he'd comfort you...before beating them unconscious. Getting his hands dirty is a small price to pay for you. But dear god, if anyone dared to lay a finger on you... well...consider them gone. Consider them erased actually. Consider the fact that they won't be bothering anyone ever again. Consider people closely associated with them being severely injured.
He's a ray of sunshine. You love him and he loves you. He loves you very much. You've never had any serious arguments. The two of you got along so well that there weren't any disagreements, but there were, he'd just fold and let it go. The only problem is that now that you're married, he wants kids, but you're not ready. You've never been very good with kids. They make you anxious. The sticky fingers, their delicate little heads, the fact that they could become psychopaths if you don't raise them properly. Not to mention how expensive and time-consuming they are. You spend all that time and energy on them and get almost nothing in return. Don't even get you started on the effects it'll have on your body.
There's just too much that could go wrong and besides, you just font feel like you're mature enough to have a kid of your own when you still feel like one yourself. You're not ready to raise a human being. There's so much you want to do, want to explore and you can't do that with a baby. Your husband on the other hand is great with them. He's the eldest brother of six so he's used to taking care of kids. At birthday parties, you can find him carrying three kids at a time, one over his shoulders and two in his arms, even the older ones, which doesn't surprise you because he's built big and strong. Must've eaten his vegetables when he was a kid, you snicker, inwardly. Your husband pokes you every time he sees a cute video of a baby on his phone like a boy asking his parents for a puppy. "Just watch! Aren't they cute!? (Yyyy/nnnn)!" He sticks his phone in your face and makes you watch a bunch of videos. He has a severe case of baby fever.
You look over at your fiance. He's looking out at the swing set with a dreamy look on his face. A little boy is pushing his younger sister and they look like they're having a blast. You cringe, knowing your husband is gonna bring up the baby talk again when you get home. Just then, you feel a light tug on your dress and look over to see a little girl around the age of 4, wobbling on her feet, looking up at you. You at least try to be good with kids. "Hey, what are you doing?" You laugh nervously. You know you're in for it now. You can feel your husband's intense gaze on the back of your neck.
"...Mama said that if I'm good, I can have cake. I was good today, so can I have some,...please?" You look up to see a woman face palming and yelling at her daughter to come back and stop bothering the nice lady. You smile at her mother, letting her know it's okay. "Well you asked so very nicely, how can I say no?" You cut a small slice and plate it for her. You give her the plate, but she just looks up at you with puppy dog eyes. "I...I always let Mama feed me," she says as fiddles with her fingers nervously. So adorable. You look up at her mother, who seems to be busy dealing with one of her other kids and decide to give her a break. Although this is breaching your comfort zone, you just can't say no to that face.
You pick up a fork and begin feeding her. You just know your fiance has the most love-struck look on his face, if you were looking at him, you'd be able to see big hearts in his eyes. You peek over at him to see just that and roll your eyes. "Mm so yummy! Thank you miss!" She gets on her tippy toes and kisses you on the cheek. You must admit that was adorable, but your opinion remains firm. No kids. No way. You still have plenty more reasons not to have any so cuteness is not enough to sway you. The little girl waddles away back to her mom. You don't want to turn around. You sigh and look at your husband to see he is still swooning.
"Oh my god! That was beautiful. You be such a good mom!" He coos. You groan. "We talked about this so many times, honey. You know how I feel about kids," you pout, folding your arms. You could've sworn you saw his eyebrow twitch like he was upset. "You'd be great, I believe in you. I just know it," he beams. Oh, he's not mad. Must've been your imagination. You roll your eyes. He didn't listen to a word you said though. You love him so much, but he's a brick wall when it comes to things like this. He's been on your ass quite literally about kids ever since you got married. "I need more time," you say, looking away from his pouting face. He was a bit gloomy for the rest of your outing after that. Last night, you misplaced your birth control pack. You were worried about it, but you just brushed it off and decided to take two the next night when you do find them.
Soon, your picnic comes to an end and you head home. He's on you as soon as you shut the door, kissing you passionately. You return the gesture, hugging him close. "Don't take your birth control tonight," he whispers huskily in your ear. You stop and push his chest. He takes a step back and looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed. "We literally just talked about this! Respect that I don't want any dumb kids!" You shout. You expect him to apologize, to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness like he always does when he's in the wrong. Then he'd go and get you flowers, and cook for you, but this time, he looks down at you rage evident in his expression. He looks really pissed. You shrink in your spot. What?
"You're being ridiculous, (y/n)! It's time for you to grow up! You're old enough to be a responsible mother so stop acting like a child. I can support the both of you easily. You don't have to lift a fucking finger, just have my child already. I've been so fucking patient with you. My mother and yours have been asking us where their grandchild is. What the fuck do I tell them? I'm wondering too! I've been waiting for you to change your mind and be reasonable, but you're really getting on my nerves now," he grits his teeth as he finishes his sentence. Each sentence felt like a stab to your heart. He's never said such cruel words to you or even cruel words in general before. Your husband hasn't so much as insulted you. You never could've imagined your husband had this side to him.
He gripped your arm and began dragging you upstairs. "Hey! S-Stop! Stop it!" You cry, holding onto the stair rail. He looks back at you. That was the last fucking straw. You hear a loud clap and your head turned. Huh? Your cheek stings? Tears begin to well in your eyes as you hold your reddening cheek. He takes the time to pull you the rest of the way up and into the bedroom. He sets you on the bed and locks the door, taking his clothes off right there, his well-built figure casting a shadow over you. You begin sobbing in your place on the bed, covering your face with your hands. He walks over and gently hugs you, rubbing your back. You push at him, but he keeps you still pressed to his body. "Stop that," he whispers in your ear. His voice is commanding yet gentle, but you ignore him and continue fighting his hold. "That's it. I'm so tired of you acting like this. It's time you give me what I deserve, a family." He grips your dress and violently rips it off you, leaving you in your bra and panties. You've had sex before, but never like this. This is the first time your eyes held fear while looking at your husband.
He shoves you back onto the bed, climbing over you and trapping you beneath him, smiling. He traces a finger from your collar to the center of your bra, where it stills before ripping it off you. You know better than to scream so you whimper as he throws it to the side. He places a hand over your breast, squeezing it painfully. You grab his wrist, trying to pry it off. "You are gonna be a great mommy. Can't wait to watch these fill up with milk." His face takes on that dreamy look again. "Seeing you today in the park confirmed it. You're more than ready." You feel his cock rubbing your thigh. He yanks your panties down your legs, tossing them into the forgotten corner with his clothes and yours. With his other hand and rubs your pussy. You whine and struggle under him, but you know you're no match for him. He spreads your thighs open and lodges himself between them, his cock rubbing up and down your fold, taunting you. "I love you...so much," he says before slowly entering you. You are NOT having a fucking baby. You'll take your birth control and that'll be that. He smiles down at you, knowing what you're thinking and bucks his hips. He laughs like he knows something you don't, but the idea is completely lost on you.
He bottoms out, moaning as he does. He rubs the bulge in your stomach lovingly. "I want a big family, honey. Make me a daddy. Let me breed you," he says, rutting into you. Even though he's being so rough, it feels so damn good. He picks up your thighs and pressed them down beside your head, squishing your cervix with his cock. Your tongue rolls out your mouth as your eyes roll into the back of your skull. He kisses your neck and cheeks, giving you soft praise. "I knew you'd be good for me. Such a good little wife and soon to be mommy. You're gonna look so cute stuffed with our baby. God, I fucking love you," he chants as he rams into you again and again, your brain is far too clouded by the feeling of him spearing your guts to understand him.
You dig your nails into his back as continues bruising your poor cervix. You let out a choked whine. "It's ok, honey, you can cum. I'll allow it." As if on command, you do. He kisses your lips passionately, quickening his pace. Moans leave your mouth each time he pounds into you, the air and sound being forced from your lungs each time on impact.
His fists curled in the sheets, his eyes clenching. He slams his hips to yours, your body being forced farther before he grabs your hips and forces you back. He grunts as he cums deep inside you, your stomach filling to the brim with his seed. He sighs and kisses your cheek. You breathe heavily, waiting for him to get off, but he doesn't. He just starts going again like he didn't just fill your guts up.
"W-Whah?" You whine. "I need to make sure my seed takes, darling. We'll be doing this until I say we're done so don't complain now." You can tell by his tone that he's daring you to try something. You just clench your eyes and keep taking him. You're so bloated with cum. He's never been like this before, always stopping when you wanted to and treating you like porcelain. Now he's grabbing you and fucking into you like he's been holding back for years, which you now think he has. Your eyelids begin drooping after the sixth time he forced you to cum. You can't keep them open and he notices. "It's ok, take a nap. Warning, I'm not stopping. I guess I tired you out," he laughs.
You wake up to him hugging your back, spooning you. You look at your alarm clock. It's been hours and judging from the still-wet cum all over your thighs, he only stopped recently. You slowly and very carefully slip out of his hold and off the bed. You feel a soreness like never before in your stomach and almost fall to the floor. Oh god, your uterus. More cum slips out of you as you walk to your vanity. You open a couple of drawers where you think your birth control might be, but it's not there. Where could it be if not in your vanity!? You look around frantically, but you still can't find them! You begin looking everywhere. You check the bathroom cupboard, opening it slowly so it doesn't creak and wake up your crazy husband. It's not in there! You look down to see the crumpled package in the trash. You pick it up to see it empty. Every single slot, even the pink period pills. You begin tearing up as you see there are tiny white specs by the sink. No! He washed them away! How could he!? You clutch the sink as you stare at the empty package. You feel a presence creep up behind you. You look up in the mirror to see your husband right behind you, looking down at you with disdain.
"I knew you were going to take them after I told you not to so I got rid of them last night." He planned this!? "Let's go back to bed...Common," he says tiredly and grabs your arm, forcing you back into bed with him, your back to his chest. You feel his cock harden and you try to inch away, but he grabs your hips and rubs his cock up and down your folds before jamming it inside you until he bottoms out. You whimper with your hands over your mouth, knowing that if you annoyed him while he was tired, you'd get in real trouble. He lazily humps into you, rubbing your bulging tummy from behind you, his lips kissing your head. You pass out later from exhaustion.
You wake up to find him not in bed. You take the chance to get up and throw on a sweatshirt and sweats. You grab your wallet and sprint out of the room and down the stairs, ignoring the painful limp he gave you and the soreness in your poor tummy. Your wrist is caught mid-air..." Where the fuck do you think you're going, honey?" He asks, his sweet smile contrasting the bone-crushing grip he has your wrist in.
"O-Oh! Um...we...need-" He cuts you off in the middle of your lie, yanking your wrist and forcing you closer to him. "You were going to go kill our baby." You've never seen such darkness in his eyes. "Well, you can't. I won't allow it. The doors have new locks just for you, love. You're not going anywhere." He smiles down at you, that same handsome face you love, but now come to fear. You gulp as he leads you into the kitchen where he prepared a beautiful breakfast.
You soon accept what's to happen. Your husband is a loved man. Loved by all. His family, your family, his job, the community, everyone. Your husband is often described as charismatic, funny, helpful and friendly. If you told anyone of them what he's done to you, they'd call you a liar without hesitation or even better, take his side, agreeing that it's time you give him a child because it's your duty as his wife to do at least that for him. Be a little grateful for all he does. Providing for you and taking care of you. You'd rather keep your mouth shut. Nothing good can come of telling anyone. It only took a few days of brutal fucking till you woke up early in the morning feeling nauseous and ran to the bathroom, him hot on your tail, ready to hold your hair back as you emptied your stomach into the toilet. You sob as you hug your knees on the bathroom floor. He got on the floor with you, wiping your tears with his thumbs and holding your face. He smiles wide and hugs you tightly. "Yes! (Y/n)! I'm so proud of you! We're having a baby! I love you!"
Yandere husband with pregnant reader head cannons:
- You're allowed out of the house after a while of proving your obedience! Hooray! With the exception that he has to be there, of course. A man flirted with you a bit while you were shopping and your husband was within earshot. You still cringe when you remember the sound the man's nose made as your husband punched him. It took three security guards to get him off the guy.
- Your husband makes you eat so much! "Sit down and finish your food. You're eating for two, remember!? Or did you forget?"
- Paints the baby's room with non-toxic paint and will not let you help or hold anything. "No, it's too dangerous, (Y/n). Sit back down, I've got this, ok?"
- Spares no expense for you and the baby. Buys everything people recommend to him
- Watches youtube videos for things he needs to watch out for during your pregnancy
- Does pregnancy stretches with you and won't take no for an answer. "It's good for you and the baby so get to it! I'll do them with you so we look silly together!" You both still have a fun time.
- You once dropped a book on the floor and your husband burst through the wall to get to you, leaving a cartoon cutout of himself and all. "WHATHAPPENDAREYOUOK!?" He shouted all in one breath. You assured him that you were just fine and that you'd only dropped a book, but he still cradled you in his arms crying.
- Cooks all your meals and cuddles you every single night.
- You being pregnant does not mean he stops fucking you, no. He's just a lot more gentle with you.
- Has everything about your pregnancy and birth planned to the exact detail, even when you'll have the next one.
- He rubs his face against your tummy and kisses it, singing to the baby.
- Do you need to get up? "Here, take my arm...actually...I'll hold you!"
- He picks up the phone on the first ring...and you better too or he's racing home.
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Big Guy Big Belly
König is a big man, and with a big man comes a big appetite. We’re talking about a 6’10 man constantly maintaining his peak physique. He needs to be consuming as many calories and as much protein, carbs, fats, fiber and more to keep himself in fit and fighting shape.
At the canteen, he’s a nightmare. I bet that people rush to the cafeteria just to make sure they get something to eat before the big man on base rolls up. He’ll clear out the bins if he gets a chance. There’s a rumour on base that the reason König fought so hard to climb the ranks so quickly was just to be able to eat more and get away with it. Little do they know that they’re absolutely right, but König will never say that out loud. Ever. There’s some secrets you take to your grave.
Either way, König is a menace in the canteen. He’ll pile his plate as high as he can when he gets a chance. He’s packing away all he can get in the shortest amount of time he can, and everyone has to suffer for it. The worst part is that everyone has to rush to get to the caf before König, and König knows exactly what others are doing, so he’s in a daily race against the entire base to eat his fill. It’s always a photo-finish to see who gets to the cafeteria first. König currently has been slacking, so he’s not been eating like he normally has. Is he mad? Not really. He’ll clean out the snack cart later.
He’s a monster late at night. Everyone knows that you need to leave the big man to his snacks, lest you face the wrath of the colossus on base. Well, wrath in a peculiar way. He just gets quiet and angry, but it’s still not a fun experience to try and fight him for a sandwich. If you take the last egg salad sandwich you’ll be at the top of his shit list for the next week. Don’t even think he won’t track you down. He’ll throw around his rank just to get his hands on the poor bastard. Nobody is safe, either.
Stiletto only once took the last pudding cup. Once. She never made that mistake again. For a week he was giving her dirty looks over a cold shoulder as he bumbled down the hall. She eventually had to give in and sacrifice a desert to be able to get back in his good graces. She still thinks he’s a massive bitch because of it. And you know what? She’s right. Everybody knows she’s right, König included, but he’ll keep going after whoever ‘steals’ ‘his’ snacks. They get along a bit better now that they’ve both advanced in rank and worked together, but there was a good period of time where Stiletto had to sleep with one eye open.
It gets a bit better for everyone when König finally finds a partner and doesn’t stay on base so often. Everyone takes a moment to pray for the poor soul who has to cook for König whenever he gets home from deployment.
See, during deployment, König can’t be such a massive bitch about food. He gets his rations, and that’s that. He can’t steal from anybody else, so he gets stuck with these pitiful MREs that barely fill him up. It’s miserable, and he’s losing weight like crazy when on the field. He’s running on fumes and burning calories like crazy as he’s risking his life out there. It’s gotten to a point where König has taken to eating with hostages post-rescue to ‘help them feel safer’ (read: get more food into his gullet). Thankfully, he puts his best foot forward when dealing with victims of trauma and ensures that he has somebody else do all the socializing while he plays with the kids after dinner. Apparently, after the inevitable shower of tears whenever kids have to face König, he becomes pretty popular. They love to use him as a jungle gym (and make fun of him) and he’s just happy to get more to eat. He’ll take being called ‘bigger than even my dad!’, being told ‘you’re weird’ or being asked ‘why are you so big and scary all the time?’ any day for a little extra to eat. He can tolerate a few kids. He won’t ever admit that hanging around them makes him want some kids of his own, or at least not to Horangi, who’s already teasing König about being a surrogate father to the kids. König tells him to keep it to himself, but Horangi is already buying things for the baby shower.
Once König finally comes home, that’s when all Hell breaks loose. This man has been starving and he needs food NOW. He won’t take no for an answer. If you don’t have something prepared, he’ll be ordering a massive order of takeout the likes of which you’ve never seen before in your life. He’ll hit multiple places on his way back to your place if he doesn’t think you’ve been able to get something together for him. If you can’t cook, he won’t even bother telling you to cook for him and just focus on getting a whole banquet of junk food ready for when he arrives home. He brings the pizzas in the door before he even brings in his own bags. You’ll have to go out and grab his bag as he sets up his personal buffet table. The worst part is despite how much he can shove down, he always buys more than he can eat, so you’ve got a couple of days worth of food to shove in the fridge at the end of the night.
If you can cook, this is a multi-day experience. Is it rewarding? Absolutely. Is it painful? Abso-fucking-lutely. He’s got you slaving for hours a day just to get him a nice home cooked meal. You’ll be going all out to get him a big enough meal. We’re thinking a tray of mac and cheese, a whole roast chicken, easily a handful of loaded baked potatoes. If you have something from your traditional cuisine, he’s not picky, he’ll gobble it up in a heartbeat. Knowing you made it for him is more than enough for him. Food is the way to a man’s heart, some say, and König will never let you go if you treat him like the king he is.
The good thing about cooking König such a big meal is that he gives back. He’s not a fan of cooking, but for the next few days he’ll take over cooking and cleaning in the kitchen. It’s just an easy way for him to give back, you know? He can’t thank you enough with words, so why not with actions?
But the best part of König giving back is that he’s an excellent cook. He cooks mostly traditional food from his culture, but he’s down for some french or italian cooking if you’re into it. He can make a mean lasagne. He does not skimp on the cheese, this man. No he’s a cheese fiend. If you’re lactose intolerant, you’ve got another thing coming for you. He will hand feed you lactaid just for the meal. If you have a dietary restriction, he’ll learn how to cook your types of meals in abundance. He’s perfect that way. Vegetarian, vegan, keto, no matter what, he’s got your back. He’s learned how to make an excellent spread for a dinner party, and part of learning to cater to others is to work around other people’s diets; his mother drilled that rule into his little head as a kid. He does it without complaint, too. For at least a week after coming home, he’s just so happy to be around food in abundance again. He’s absolutely thriving in the kitchen before the thrill wears off and he’s back to avoiding cooking like the plague again.
He loves to eat, but usually hates to cook. He’ll mostly eat takeout until he actually has to eat a nutritious meal again for a change. It’s not that cooking is awful, it’s just that he hates doing the dishes. He’d be far more inclined if he didn’t have to do the dishes afterwards. If you take over dishes, he’ll definitely step up his game for the both of you.
All in all, König loves to eat. He’s a big man with a bigger appetite, as hard as that is to believe. Once he retires he has to learn to cut back a fair bit, but he never loses his taste for sweets and snacks. It’s just something you’ll have to learn to live with.
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