#then you remember the thing that you were told about him; that he was a dungeon lord

[suiana]

(yandere! ex crush x gn! reader) (cw: gaslighting, self harm)

you don't really remember why you liked him. he was one of those popular kids who only hung out with other popular kids and disrupted class. he was one of those guys who was effortlessly attractive and had the admiration of other girls and guys. he was basically the perfect guy.

you... you were a bit of a nerd. not an outcast, but certainly not popular. you had your own fair share of friends but that was about it. you were just average.

but him.

he...

he was out of your league, that much was certain. you fell for him anyway despite knowing that. maybe it was your teenage brain being delusional, seeing things as signs when there weren't any. when exactly you fell? you think it was because the two of you got paired for a project together in the final year. yes, that was probably when you started to fall for him.

he was nice.

he was nice.

and you fell for that. how foolish.

sure, he gave you attention and spent time with you after class... yeah he might have told you how beautiful you were when you laughed.... hell, he even gave you something you've always wanted all because he wanted to see you smile... but you shouldn't have taken those the romantic way! of course not! it's not like you and him could ever be together. you were too different from each other.

"you thought i liked you?"

his voice.

it was full of disgust. as though he were looking at something utterly filthy. trash. something so simply unworthy of his gaze. yet, there seemed to be a hint of hesitation behind them. as though he were afraid.

"come on, just because i treated you decently for the project... you're a good friend but..."

then it was pity. like you falling for him was something worth pitying. it was like you were a charity case and his attention was his donation. still, his words were hesitant, shaky.

"honestly, i wouldn't have talked to someone like you if it weren't for the project. you really think you're in my league?"

he was rambling at this point, fiddling with his fingers and avoiding eye contact. still, it was very clear how he felt about you. in your eyes, at least. he didn't like you, at all.

everything came crashing down. your fragile teen heart, the infatuation and rose eyed lens watering away as he continues to hurl hurtful things at you. his words seep deep into your wounds, causing the pain to burn even more.

someone like you.

was that how he saw you? just... someone? like you? how little did he think of you to not even address you as your own person? was all that kindness just a facade? did he really... dislike you that much?

"i... forget it. let's just finish the project and never speak about this again."

the unsaid words only left you hurting more. what was he going to say? what did he want to say? you'll never know because you fucked things up by telling him how you felt.

you never talked to him after the project. never looked at him, never spoke about him, you avoided him like he was the plague. even when... did he try approaching you after that? you don't remember. you don't want to remember.

thankfully, he wasn't all that bad. he never told anyone of your confession and you soon graduated high school without any further drama. you wonder if it was out of pity or just disgust. the sheer disgust of being associated with someone like you. of being confessed to by someone like you.

you decided to forget about him after that day and focus on yourself. so what if some guy rejected you? at least you have yourself, that's something.

you went to college, graduated with honors, and got a job in something you loved. all was great and life was good.

until it wasn't.

you saw him again. this time, instead of the popular high school kid, he was your neighbor that just moved in.

"u-uh..."

he had bags under his eyes, skin that was cold to the touch, and an appearance that looked like he was going to pass out at any second. yet he was still as handsome as ever. something about that disheveled look... sure he wasn't that golden boy he was back then but you couldn't deny that he was still handsome. handsome but tired.

you shake your head, temporarily putting those thoughts to the side. first, how were you supposed to greet him? do you act like you know him? act like he wasn't there and just walk off?

"welcome to the apartment complex, you new here?"

he nodded and his eyes lit up.

ah damn it.

thus was the start to your rekindling with him yet again. your ex crush, now your next door neighbor and friend. apparently he ended up in computer science and was unemployed. something about the current job market or whatever he was mumbling about. he moved out of his parent's house to try and find a job in a new place which is why he's here.

you two start out slow. greeting each other in the morning if you come across one another. then it evolved to going to the grocery store together. things were good. and it felt... nice having him around again.

eventually, the two of you end up befriending each other once again. how sweet! old friends rekindling the flame, right? wrong.

"i love you."

it came so suddenly, but also not really. you should've seen the signs and distanced yourself. the blushing, the increased codependency, his entire clingy boyfriend persona even though you're not together... now things have turned out like this and there's absolutely no way you're getting back with him. not when he's your ex-crush.

"uh..."

before you can say anything, he starts apologizing like his feelings are wrong.

"sorry... 'm sorry..."

he was crying. crying. on his knees, face wet with desperation as he dares not to touch you. his fists were clenched tight, nails breaking the skin on his palms as rushed words fall from his lips.

"i know i don't deserve you but please! i can't live without you!"

he wishes he had never said those harmful words all those years again. that ruined everything between the two of you.

he had really fallen for you all those years back in high school. that much was obvious with how much time he spent with you and how you're the only person to this day to remain in his heart.

but he made the mistake of choosing popularity.

back then, he chose his fake friends that didn't want anything to do with losers over his one true love. they saw his affection for you and called him out on it, causing him to panic and leave you in the dust. but it's okay... he's changed! really! couldn't you tell from how you hung out with him lately? he spends all his time with you, gives you gifts, and does whatever you want him too! he really just wants to show his love! honest!

"i can... i can be better! please, don't leave me!"

meanwhile you were just awkwardly standing there, watching as he bawled his eyes out. well... what now? you're not gonna accept him. definitely not.

sure, he has been treating you nicely recently but didn't he treat you nicely back then too? and what happened when you fell for that huh?

"please... just one chance. i won't hurt you again."

he won't hurt you but he will hurt himself. that's just common sense obviously. if you don't want him it must mean there's something wrong with him, and he'll be more than happy to punish himself for that.

anything for you.

"dude i just- you're not really my type."

that's true. you've grown from your high school self and while it is nice to have him as a friend again, you can't see him as a future partner.

he's just not that guy. and that's not the only reason. he's getting too dependent and clingy to you and it's weird. really weird. if that was his definition of treating you better it wasn't a really good one.

you watch silently as he sniffles, rubbing at his eyes before making eye contact again.

"you don't want me?"

you nod.

"really?"

you nod again.

"i guess it's a sign to end it all then..."

wait what?

"no no no- dude you can't kill yourself just because i rejected you!"

"why not? there's nothing to live for if I can't be yours."

the only sounds heard are the sounds of your breathing and his sniffling. the two of you are engaged in a deep staring contest that he wins as you pull away.

damn it, you didn't want him to die. why'd he say that? now things are awkward-

"there's no meaning in my life if you reject me. I'm just a useless man."

you sigh and rub your forehead.

what are you supposed to do now, huh? he's obviously not in the right state of mind and he doesn't seem to want to move unless you accept his confession.

"you-"

"no one likes me..."

okay that's it.

"listen, I'll go on one date. if after that I don't want to date you, please just move on."

there. nothing will go wrong now. he'll be happy and you'll have him as a friend.

"ah..."

unfortunately for you, you've underestimated a man who's desperate to make up for lost time.and he won't stop until he's gotten what he wants.

[pathologicalreid]

forwards beckon rebound | s.r.

[previously]

in which fate reveals itself to you and Spencer. it's exactly as you feared, you're in love with him.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: blowing smoke FINALE (p4), maeve, kidnapping, russian roulette, imminent death, violence, blood, nondescript case fic, no hea word count: 1.88k a/n: two things 1) i do have an alternate ending to this series 2) fluff this weekend i promise

Brightness seared your retinas when the blindfold finally came off, you felt the sore skin in places where the fabric was too tight over your face. An abstract of indents were left over your skin.

Dots and shadows danced in your vision while you tried to blink them away, forming the shape of someone who oddly resembled Spencer. He was hunched over in a chair in front of you, his neck bent at an uncomfortable angle. Your solace was the steady rising and falling of his chest. Each time he took a breath it eased your own.

“Spence,” you called for him, your throat so swollen that it came out as a hiss. The desperate cry of a rattlesnake hindered by whoever had crushed your windpipe.

Tunnel vision blinded you to anything in the periphery, your eyes scanned Spencer while you acquainted yourself with the binds around your wrists and ankles. He seemed unharmed, save for the obvious unconsciousness. You had no idea who had taken you, but the BAU had no shortage of enemies. The two of you were, by extension, always targets.

Your ears perked up at the first sign of noise in the warehouse, hot air rose to the floor you were on, leaving you sticky and uncomfortable in the humid prison. Glancing over your shoulder, you watched a masked figure waltz through the doorway.

Clocking the gun affixed to their hip, you quickly looked over to Spencer, hoping he would wake up soon. The fabric ties around your wrists dug into your fragile skin as you looked around the room, remembering there was someone else in here with you, someone who had pulled your blindfold off.

Silently, you started putting the pieces together. “Spencer,” you whispered, having half a mind to reach your foot out and try to kick him awake. There was a reason you had been the one blindfolded. Somewhere in your subconscious, you knew where you were. It led to the horrifying realization that this was about you.

His nose wrinkled, and the first sign that he was starting to wake up was interrupted when the masked figure stood behind him, gripping him by his hair and lifting his head.

Your body instinctively tried to jump to its feet in protest, “Hey!” You shouted as your chair creaked from its bolts in the ground, “Let him go.” Cringing, you watched as he dropped Spencer’s head, letting it loll to the side while he woke up.

The two UnSubs walked out of the room, leaving you and Spencer to your own devices. You shushed him slightly while he groaned, your breath hitching when your name slipped past his lips.

“It’s okay,” you told him. “I’m okay, I’m right here,” you assured him, though you weren’t entirely sure how comforting it was knowing you were both bound to chairs.

Spencer didn’t respond. You twisted your wrist within your binds and winced when it pulled in precisely the wrong way. Looking around, you chewed on the inside of your lip and tried to find something to help you, but there was no next step if you couldn’t get your hands free.

He groaned across from you, and you swallowed back a consolation. You studied him, his head tilted so aggressively to the side that you could see the glint of the scar on his neck. The faded mark was invisible to the naked eye, but when it caught in just the right light, you remembered the way you’d succumbed to dread in that hospital in Texas.

You should’ve called it then. You should have thrown in the proverbial towel and committed yourself to him that very night, with that guy bleeding out on the hospital floor and Penelope shouting about her ears popping.

But you’d heard the gunshot, and you’d seen the fear on his face, and at that moment, the only thing you could remember was trying to pick him up from the floor when he tried to crawl over to Maeve’s lifeless body. You remembered the way he cried when the team tried to give him space and you watched him push Diane’s body over so he could finally get a look at his dearly departed.

Even before she became the most beautiful girl in the world, you never trusted yourself with him. Your lack of faith in him pressed upon your shoulders like the weight of the sky. The pendant he had gifted you seared your chest like a brand. The Tree of Life weighed heavy over your heart.

Your romance with Spencer was like a car crash you couldn’t take your eyes off of. He relentlessly rammed his shoulder into the wall you’d constructed between you while you were on the other side reinforcing the bricks. His soft skin had been marred with bruises, and debris was littered across your body.

You should’ve called it then, but besides your sinking feeling that you’d never step up to the pedestal he had placed Maeve on, you knew you’d only have him temporarily. Life was excruciatingly short, and no amount of time would suffice when it came to him

The wall remained standing in the same way that Maeve’s had, refusing to let Spencer in, refusing to let Spencer help. “Spence,” you whispered. “Are you alright?”

Slowly, his eyes lifted to look at you, and you imagined he was witnessing his worst nightmare. Maybe he’d convince himself he was dreaming, damning you to the fate of telling him this was really happening. “You’re bleeding,” he said, voice gruff from lack of use. His brown eyes flashed with fear when they met yours, but it was no longer residual fear from Maeve’s death—it was fear for you. Had it always been fear for you? Was it possible that the terrorized look in his eye that pushed you away from him had always stemmed from his fear of losing you?

Wrinkling your nose, you finally felt it on your upper lip; blood had trickled from your nose down your face. You shook your head once and said, "It’s just my nose.” You watched his face contort as he tried to free himself from his binds.

Birds chirped outside of the windows; the setting sun invaded the blinds that shadowed the otherwise dark room. Lines of tangerine light lit his face while he ascertained your well-being for himself. There was no point in asking if you knew what had happened, and Spencer wasn’t in the habit of wasting time.

You tried using your thumbnail to cut through the twine around your wrists, the broken piece of keratin on your hand was, so far, the best option you’d had. “Did you see anything?” You asked him, trying to use conversation as a distraction from your current predicament.

He only said your name in response, wide eyes looking past you and watching as the man in the ski mask walked back into the room. The revolver that had previously been holstered on his hip was now in his hands. He spun the cylinder as he approached you, and your heart dropped when he raised the gun, pointing it at Spencer.

“No,” your voice was no more than a whisper while Spencer looked up at your abductor. He met his gaze and refused to flinch, even when he pulled the trigger. Someone who had never met Spencer would think he was entirely stone-faced in the face of a weapon, but you watched the light in his eyes shift and his Adam’s apple bob.

When he pulled the trigger and nothing happened, your chest tightened, but everything about Spencer’s demeanor changed when the gun was turned on you. The barrel pressed to your temple, you shook your head when the shouting started, “Stop!” You closed your eyes, two silent tears streaking your face as the cold metal pressed against your skin. “Let her go,” Spencer urged. “You don’t need both of us.”

The bargaining started, and memories flashed behind your eyelids. Her for me. Let me take her place.

Spencer called your name when the trigger was pulled again, and the weapon clicked without expelling a bullet.

“Where is she?” Your abductor asked, his voice ringing out in an unfamiliar accent, referring to a mystery woman.

You shook your head once when the weapon was removed from your temple, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Part of you wished you were just egging on a suspect, but you felt entirely powerless while you looked at Spencer, confused.

His clenched fist made contact with your cheek, eliciting a shout from Spencer while your head twisted to the side. “Don’t lie to me! I know she called you.”

The gun rose again, “Please,” you cried as the barrel met Spencer’s forehead. “We can help you if you tell us what’s going on,” you assured the unnamed man.

Flinching, you watched the revolver click again, now halfway through the six cartridges. You were left with three more chances and, presumably, one bullet. “Killing one of us isn’t going to get us to help you,” Spencer tried to reason with him, but if there was one thing you knew, it’s that you can’t change a mind that’s been made up.

He scoffed, lifting the gun to your head, and you felt the blood drain from your face in anticipation. Every part of you ran cold as the gun met your temple, “Spencer, close your eyes.”

You continued digging at your restraints, jumping slightly when the gun clicked again. The mechanical sound of the trigger rang in your ears, echoing endlessly when you looked back at Spencer. You swallowed back an I love you, not wanting to succumb to the cliché while you met Spencer’s eyes again. A piece of you hoped the look in your eyes said everything you needed, noises came from elsewhere in the building, and you wished it was a savior.

With the revolver up at his temple, he nodded reassuringly at you, “I know.”

“Please let him go,” you begged, your voice catching over your tears. “If this is about me, you have to let him go,” you promised.

When the trigger was pulled again with no consequences, your heart dropped. The blood-pumping organ fell through your entire body, and you looked up at Spencer, unable to hide the terror in your eyes.

You shook your head as the gun was pressed against your temple, “Spencer, don’t watch.” You faced down your own death, trying to ignore the way your hands trembled as you tugged at your binds in a last-minute escape attempt. “You don’t need to see this,” you didn’t add again, but the thought crossed your mind while you thought of the necklace that sat over your heart.

“I have to see you through,” Spencer insisted, silver lining his eyes while he furiously pulled at his own restraints.

Your chest rose and fell in desperate, shaking breaths. You couldn’t do it; you couldn’t meet his eyes with a revolver pressed to your skull. You should’ve done it. You should’ve called it then, but that was how life worked. Things were already clearest when they were in the rearview window. There was nothing for you to do.

All Spencer could do was watch as he pulled the trigger, and the cycle repeated.

"History repeats itself, but in such cunning disguise that we never detect the resemblance until the damage is done." - Sydney J. Harris

[vividly-vermillion]

✴︎ CAUGHT RED HANDED PART 1

જ⁀➴ The LADS guys catch you masturbating.

ﾉ including: Xavier

ﾉ cw: afab!reader, no pronouns, masturbation, getting caught, suggesting that more will happen

ﾉ wordcount: 0.6k

ﾉ info: I didn't want to put too much into one post because I wil escalate with Zayne and Sylus and I know it. The others come in the next few days! ﾉ Requests are OPEN

Feel free to request a follow up on the sexy time happening!! COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED

✶࿐ Xavier

♡ Xavier wouldn't spy on you or anything but the walls in these apartments are just so damn thin.

♡ At first he didn't think anything of it, you were probably just doing something else like a workout.

♡ But you sounded so irresistibly sweet, heavy pants and soft mewls. He had to press his ear to the floor to hear those.

♡ When he heard the way you moaned his name so desperately he froze for a moment - surely you wouldn't think of him while touching yourself?

♡ The code. He remembered that he had your door code to look after your plants (and plushies) when you were out on missions and he really didn't want to intrude on your privacy like that.

♡ But before he knew it, he was at your door, fingers mindlessly putting in the code to grant himself access to your place like many times before. Only this time it was different.

♡ Xavier followed the sweet sounds of soft moans and whimpers until he arrived at your door, half ajar.

♡ And there you were, splayed out on your bed with your thighs spread wide and one hand rubbing over your sensitive clit while the other groped and squeezed your boobs beneath your shirt.

♡ He couldn't believe his eyes, blinking a few times but then he heard his name in a breathy moan and any false reservations were gone.

♡ He should feel ashamed but he was far too gone, his hand traveling down his defined abs and into his pants, his cock rock hard already just from seeing you like that.

♡ Xavier gently rutted into his fist, slowly, carefully, so his clothes wouldn't rustle and give him away.

♡ However the next time you moaned his name, needy while you back arched, your hand came to a halt as to edge yourself, just for a second - Xavier could barely hold back his gasp, a strangled sound escaping his throat.

♡ "Hello?" You ask and your voice cracked. You were mortified, one hundred percent sure that you heard someone and you didn't want to fight anyone with just a shirt on and your ass out.

♡ "Just... watering the plants?" Xavier sounded unusually hesitant and you could easily tell that he was lying. He most definitely knew what you were doing.

♡ "Xav is that you?" You ask even though you already knew the answer. You just weren't sure if you wanted him there or not - that depended on his reaction.

♡ "uh yeah, it's me," he called out and you realized that he was right outside your door. He definitely saw you, but didn't want to disrespect you or make you feel unsafe.

♡ "You know that you could have texted if you needed something?" You call out and pull the blanket over your body to cover yourself.

♡ "yeah it's just... the walls are thin," your blood ran cold for a moment at his words, realizing that he heard you moan. Fuck.

♡ Your pussy shouldn't twitch with excitement at that, but it did, desperate for the possibilities. For his hands touching your skin and his mouth taking you to heaven.

♡ "And you came down exactly why...?" You asked as you bit on your lower lip, hoping he thought about the same thing.

♡ No answer... After a few seconds your phone vibrated with a message from Xavier.

♡ "You told me to text you when I needed something" was all it said and it made you giggle.

♡ "Take what you want then. Mi casa es tu casa ;))" you replied back and your door opened almost in an instant.

♡ Xavier looked sleepy, hair disheveled but there was a hunger and need in his eyes when he walked over to your bed at a rather fast pace, eyes trained on your body.

♡ Who knew that Xavier was listening in on your private times just like you always did when you heard him groaning just above your bedroom.

[pellucid-constellations]

On Standby

Pairing: Warren (oc) x Reader

Summary: The day after his fiancee left him, Warren is still to be married—just not to her. To a woman he has never met.

Word count: ~800

Warnings: Arranged marriage

a/n: I literally have no idea what's going on but please enjoy whatever I'm on right now. I don't even know what to tag this lol?? Love you thanks for the inspo everyone <3

Read the original Azriel x reader fic here

~~

Warren pulled at his collar. The material of his jacket was itchy and stiff along his neck, but honestly, he was just nervous. The hall was packed with eyes trained on his nerves and he knew only half of them. 

The other half was your family, who had somehow all been prepared for a grand wedding on such short notice. Long dresses and tailored suits sat in the seats before him, expecting something from him, and he didn’t even know what you looked like.  

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed. He knew very little about his previous fiancee, but she was nothing if not kind and pretty and devoted. Not devoted to him, but he supposed it was a good quality to have. 

He regretted, for the fourth time since last night—he’d been counting—not making more of an effort to win her over before she left. Maybe if he’d tried harder he wouldn’t be meeting someone new today. Maybe if she had felt something for him before she left… 

No, that wouldn’t have worked either. 

As much as Warren liked her, he had seen the longing and pain in her eyes at the rehearsal dinner last night. He would have lost her to whoever she loved in the Night Court regardless of previous efforts. Still, he wished it was her. 

His mother was speaking to him, her smile just as bright as the night before. She had known a wedding would take place today and had cared little about the bride. That was fine, he supposed, but this suit was choking him and he felt a headache blooming. 

“Have you decided on the honeymoon?” his mother prompted in his ear, elation buzzing in her tone. 

“No, mother. I told you I want my wife to decide.” 

“How silly. What if she wants to go somewhere terrible?” 

“I suppose that would be my plight in life,” Warren sighed through a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Please remind me of—” 

“Her name?” 

He almost scoffed. “Gods, no. I remember her name. Remind me of the flowers she chose.”

His mother shot him an odd look—one that had become increasingly commonplace with his impending marriage. His mother found it strange that he had wanted to know so much about his previous fiancee, allowing her to take liberties husbands apparently should not. She questioned his desire to be attuned to her, to have a proper partnership when it was all arranged. Warren’s mother had obviously assumed his pairing would be lucrative for the family at best. 

And it would be lucrative, even with you now as his mother’s second choice. But Warren wanted to be in love. He wanted to take care of someone and feel the warmth of reciprocation. He hadn’t seen much love in his life with so many arranged marriages and carefully planned relationships, but that did little to impact his view. 

Warren wanted to feel the way his fiancee—former fiancee—had looked last night. 

“Daffodils,” his mother shared. 

With such short notice, you had only been able to request a few things for your participation in the wedding. Your wedding, Warren regrettably thought, and you could only pick a bouquet. 

He’d have daffodils sent to whichever house you chose for the honeymoon. 

Warren nodded to his mother, and then notes were plucked from the harp across the room and he was left alone at the altar.

His palms were sweating. He couldn’t hold your hand for the first time with sweaty palms. He discreetly positioned his hands behind his back and attempted to remedy the issue. 

This would be fine. 

Maybe you were even lovelier than his last fiancee. Maybe you would enjoy all of the same things he did and would be interested in his idiotic sailing hobby. Maybe you would want to fall in love. 

The double doors swung open at the end of the aisle. 

For some reason, Warren’s eyes fluttered shut—only for a moment, but long enough for a strange form of fear to grip him. 

What if you weren’t interested in the kind of relationship he so desperately wanted? What if you saw this as a joining of families and nothing else? What if you were mean, ill-hearted—what if you hated him for what this marriage meant? 

Warren did not have time to contemplate any longer. He looked up from his turmoil and found daffodils in his eyeline. And then he found you, and suddenly, Warren wasn’t so concerned about anything anymore. 

A soft veil trailed down from the softness of your hair, gathering on the floor until it was lost in your dress. His examination stopped there. Warren was aware that there were several other beautiful things he could have noticed about you, but his world was shifting. Warren stepped back to support himself. 

He had found his mate.

[prankprincess123]

I genuinely feel like it depends WHY they don't approve, and regardless of why you should at the very least still hear them out, but for me personally it would easily be the end of the romantic relationship.

My family is close and I respect my loved ones opinions enough that depending on why literally any family member doesn't approve of the man I wish to marry, I might break it off or at least postpone the wedding until the issue is resolved. Like if my uncles know something about him that even I don't, and explain such to me when I ask, I'd definitely respect their opinion because I know they genuinely have my best interests at heart. Or if my grandparents or aunts & uncles feel they don't know him well enough for me to marry him yet, I'd ensure that they got the chance before the wedding, whether that mean delaying the wedding or simply within the engagement period. Genuinely one of the first things I've done in most instances of even semi serious relationships is make sure my family approve - partly because they showed me the same respect when they were dating and courting their now spouses even when I was a toddler. For my entire childhood whenever one of my uncles had a new girlfriend it was tradition that we would do a trip to the zoo, just my uncle, their new girlfriend, and all the nieces and nephews with the goal of our approval - I remember a time at 7yo when I decided I didn't like the girl one uncle was dating at the time, and he broke it off that night because my approval was worth that much in his relationship. In my dating experience so far there has never been a guy who my family didn't approve of - my most serious relationship even started with my uncle playing matchmaker and I genuinely think both of our families were the ones most disappointed when I ended things - but any time a relationship has been serious enough that I've even considered giving it an official title I've either already gotten everyone's approval or that is the very next step I take.

I've had uncles drop girlfriends because I was a petty child who simply wanted my uncle's attention to myself, and instantly become more serious with and in one case eventually marry a girl because I admired her so much. I have an aunt who got back together with her now husband because us kids commented that we missed how much happier she was when they were actually dating rather than him just being our uncle's best friend. Every relationship my older cousin was ever in he asked my opinion and advice every step of the way, I was the first person admitted his feelings to every time, the one he trusted to let him know and if needed talk him out of any even yellow flags, I was the first person in the family to meet his now wife and he then begged me for my opinion about her for hours, the first after his mom that he told about proposing because he needed to have that conversation with me personally, the one he cried to and consulted with regarding who should stand beside him at the alter when I couldn't due to covid, and the first to find out about my niece because he was scared and wanted my advice on the matter. I'm lucky enough that I've never been in a situation where a parent or grandparent was courting, as all three couples are still alive and happily married, but I have no doubt that if one of them were to die and the widowed parent or grandparent wanted to get re-married they would respect my opinion just as much as my aunts and uncles have (though likely not to the extent of my older cousin, as I think he trusts my judgment and opinions more than his own). Like my BIL's opinion on my future spouse sure as heck doesn't matter in the slightest because he doesn't respect my opinions on anything. And my one sister's opinion holds far less weight than it previously would have because she didn't respect me enough to listen when I suggested that dating a 25yo when she was 17yo might not be a smart idea and screams at me whenever I express worry over that relationship. And one aunt & uncle who's oppinions matter less because they don't respect me, my mama, or sisters in general. But every other family member has at the very least listened to my voice and opinions in everything, including their relationships, so why wouldn't I do the same for them?

I'm in a situationship with a guy right now that seems like he wants to formalize the relationship, but I won't even consider such until he's had a chance to meet everyone and I know that they approve. And when I get to the point of engagement and marriage it's even more important, as whoever it is isn't just marrying me they are also marrying into my family. Not only am I consulting with my grandparents and aunts & uncles before accepting a proposal, I'm getting approval from my 4yo niece and newborn-5yo cousins before it can even be a serious relationship.

[psin314]

rook questions and some templates for those who want to know more about murat!!

fifty questions for rook

How old is Rook? - 40-41.

How did Rook get the nickname? What do they think of it? - idk about the nickname. varric started to call him like that and he was like… okay. he quickly got used to it.

What was Rook’s life before their faction? - before the faction? well he was happily living with his mom and dad. then his father died, his mother became an alcoholic (the sad one) and gave him to the crows (he was 6 years old).

Which faction did they join, and why? How long has it been? - he was a crow from the age of 6 to 30 (he was falsely accused of treason), and then returned to the crows at the age 39\40. join the crows? really? murat says if you genuinely want to join the crows, then you are either an idiot or a bloodthirsty maniac. his mother could no longer take care of him. he would have starved to death with her, so with a heavy heart she decided to do…this.

What was life like for Rook before joining the Veilguard? - after almost ten years of a poor and alcohol-filled life, returning to the crows was both pleasant and hard. he hated the crows because he didn't have a choice. but loved them anyway because it's the only family he has. he had no friends there. expect viago. so he was always around him, annoying him. then he befriended teia and now she's his №1 bestie.

What was the reason that brought Rook to Minrathous? - idk the crowish reason??

Why does Rook agree to join the Veilguard? - he thought it would be just a job.

What makes Rook a good leader? - he is reasonable, knows how to listen, knows how to think, even has some kind of strategic thinking. he prefers to obey more haha. but if he was asked to be a leader then okay he will try his best.

What is Rook like on the battlefield? - he's a professional assassin. he did not drink away his knowledge, but perhaps a little skill, which he regained during his travels. he's no worse than lucanis and can even teach him something.

Does Rook know their history? Do they know of the HoF, Hawke, the Inquisitor? - murat remembers his life very well, except for his childhood up to the age of 12. he knows about hof superficially, varric was constantly talking about hawke, and he had heard about the inquisitor and thought that he was a decent good man who could be looked up to until he met him. (inq trevelyan is a fucking idiot. murat's words.)

Does Rook keep up with current events? (How aware of the situation are they at the start of the game?) - his awareness is above average. in comparison, inq trevelyan didn't understand what was going on at all.

Does Rook have any family? Do they keep in touch? - he doesn't know anything about his parents. he thinks they are dead.

Did Rook bring any trinkets/sentimental items to The Lighthouse? - he brought a bunch of crow stuff to the lighthouse.

What does Rook see when they look in the mirror? - a pathetic man whose life was ruined cus he was blindly in love, but he decided to ruin it even more. well done. proud of yourself huh. now you have a chance to fix everything. don't fuck it up.

What’s the first thing people notice when Rook enters a room? - his height, tits and blonde hair contrasting with tanned skin.

Got any tattoos? What’s the story behind them? - on the ankle there is a small funny tattoo of a crow. i've never drawn it. i know that crows have tattoos of their houses, but i'm so fucking lazy.

How’d Rook get those scars? - almost all the scars on his face are from cats, on his cheek from his mentor. on his arms also from cats, there is a very deep long scar on his forearm, as if he cut his veins, but that was also a cat. all the rest were obtained either in battle or in training with his mentor, again.

Their fondest childhood memory? - even though his mentor beat him up sometimes, he remembers fondly how he took him to the roof at night to look at treviso from above and told him a bunch of funny stories, half of which were apparently fiction, but he always listened to these stories very attentively and enthusiastically.

What is Rook’s love language? What love languages do they respond best to? - he loves to flirt, give compliments, gift flowers, food, trinkets, read poetry, sing songs, can even dance, and is always interested in his partner's life. in short, he does everything. no one has loved murat for more than a decade; he can burst into tears from any love language.

What’s it like to see them smile? Their laugh? - he smiles very kindly. laugh… its sexy okay.

What does Rook’s voice sound like? One of the voice options available, or do they have a different accent/voicecast? - he has british masculine voice. in my canon, he would have antivan accent… banderas’ voice for sure………….

Most embarrassing memory as a teenager? - definitely some kind of unsuccessful first kiss.

What does Rook wear in the off hours? Do they like dressing up? - he walks around in old clothes. his pants are worn out, at least he’s wearing a new crow shirt, and soft slippers instead of boots at the lighthouse.

Does Rook have any nightly rituals before bed? - to drink tea, preferably green or any other herbal tea, to help him fall asleep.

How does Rook like to spend their free time? - reads books, solves crossword puzzles, works out, cooks and eats his questionable food all alone.

Rook is in charge of the grocery list. What’s on it? - he won’t be on charge okay. for your own good. he will buy whatever lucanis tells him to buy.

When was the last time they cried? - well… yesterday?? before sleep???? as usual.

Does Rook have any pets/animal companions? - no, but he really wants to get a cat or at least a dog. but he doesn't have his own house as such. plus he's constantly busy, but he'd like to have a kitten to lie on his tummy and warm him up.

Any vices? - idk… well, he has alcoholism in remission. will that do?

What is Rook’s class? Did they choose it? - a rogue. did he even have a choice?

What specialization does Rook pursue? What called them to it? - murat's specialty is large targets, such as qunari or armored people. he knows how to use poisons, but he is not a fan of it. no defense, he survives on dodges alone, kills clearly and quickly, sometimes gets his face dirty in the splashing arterial blood from his victims, but overall he works carefully.

How would a desire demon tempt Rook? - to lead the crows to success, solve all their internal problems with betrayals, so that the shit that happened to him never happens to anyone else. he is obsessed with this faction, i'm telling you.

What do fear demons look like to Rook? - like ghosts. but they don't look like regular ghosts but like just a clot of darkness and silence. which makes you very anxious. plus they look like something familiar but so far away.

How does Rook begin their day? - exercises and black tea, 3 mugs.

Ultimate comfort food meal? - pasta with cheese.

What would Rook say are their flaws? - he would say he has no flaws. but sometimes he hates himself so much.

Does Rook ascribe to a faith? - he’s very andrastian. doesn't commit kms just because it's a sin.

Did Rook have any relationships before Veilguard? - he had many gfs, since his teenage years, but none of them were special, the relationships lasted a couple of months max. layla de riva became special. well, that's what he thought…

What is their room at The Lighthouse like? - it would be like lucanis'. he spent his entire childhood sleeping in the pantry.

Describe Rook’s bed? - folding bed with a blanket made of druffalo skin.

What’s on their nightstand? - cups\mugs of tea. a lot.

Something Rook regrets? - that he started drinking. he took the easy way.

Is Rook the type to gossip? - he loves it!!!!

What is Rook really good at? - killing people.

Who was Rook’s closest friend before joining the Veilguard? - he had friends before he was kicked out of the crows, but they all forgot about him. murat is still upset that when he returned, the most he got from his former friends was a hello how are you and a forced smile. you could say viago was his best friend. and indeed they spend a lot of time together. but they were never emotionally close. viago never asked what was bothering murat all the time. and murat didn’t want to talk about his feelings (because he was not allowed to do so before). this is what brought them together.

What does it take to earn Rook’s trust? - you just need to talk, chat with him. if you are attractive to him, he may trust you very quickly. (a mistake)

What’s Rook’s temper like? - he tries to restrain himself and keep the aggression inside. because when he was drinking, he simply attacked people for their “wrong” glances at him, now he is trying to be more calm and reasonable. preferably without violence.

A color, flower, animal, and weather to describe Rook? - green brown blue. roses. a stray dog who begs you for food with sad wet eyes. cloudy weather with light rain.

What will always make them laugh? - stupid dad puns that he himself likes to joke.

Are they a mystery, or an open book? - he looks like an open book but he will never tell what really bothers him.

+1 What does Rook smell like? - spite: a wet dog! grass. heavy… it’s heavy. and…ew coffee!! 🤢🤢🤢🤢

his bio

[justcat-judging]

₊ ⊹𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞 𝐎𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞! ⊹ ₊

˚ʚY/N told them her ideal type which was the complete opposite of them. ɞ˚

˚ʚNagi Seishiro x Reader, Reo Mikage x Reader (seperate!)ɞ˚

˚ʚpt.1, pt.2ɞ˚

₊ ⊹𝐍𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐒𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨 ⊹ ₊

Nagi Seishiro was not a man of effort. He liked things easy, simple, and preferably with minimal movement involved. So, of course, falling in love with Y/Nwas an absolute nightmare.

You we're everything he wasn’t. Full of energy, constantly moving, and always finding new ways to make his life unnecessarily complicated. Like now.

“Come on, Nagi, aren’t you curious?” you teased, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you leaned forward.

Nagi blinked at you, fighting the urge to yawn. “Not really.”

You huffed, but your grin didn’t falter. “Too bad. You asked me something yesterday, so it’s only fair I answer.”

He didn’t actually remember asking you anything, but he nodded anyway. That was easier than arguing.

You clasped your hands together dramatically. “Alright, my type is—” you paused for effect, waiting until you had his full attention. “A guy who’s hardworking, super ambitious, and always pushing himself to be better.”

Nagi’s brain short-circuited.

Hardworking? Ambitious? That was the complete opposite of him. You might as well have described Mikage Reo.

“...Huh,” was all he said, but internally, he was already lying face-down on the floor, mourning his non-existent love life.

You grinned, nudging his foot with yours under the table. “What? Surprised?”

“Not really.” He shoved a piece of bread into his mouth, chewing slower than necessary to mask his disappointment. He should’ve known. You we're always looking for excitement, for someone who would match your energy. Nagi, with his love for naps and bare-minimum effort, didn’t stand a chance.

You watched him, your lips twitching as if you were holding back laughter. “Nagi,” you said slowly, dragging out his name.

“Mm?”

“It was a prank.”

He froze mid-chew.

You snickered. “I just wanted to mess with you. Did you really believe that?”

Nagi swallowed his bread and stared at you. His brain was still rebooting.

You rested your chin on her palm, tilting your head slightly. “I don’t actually care about all that. If I like someone, I like them. Simple.”

Simple? Nothing about this was simple. His heart was beating annoyingly fast, and he was suddenly aware of how warm his face felt. He was too lazy to deal with emotions, especially confusing ones like this.

“Oh,” was all he managed to say.

You laughed, and Nagi had to look away before you noticed the way his ears were turning red.

“Dummy,” you said fondly, and he felt like maybe—just maybe—falling in love with you wasn’t such a nightmare after all.

₊ ⊹𝐑𝐞𝐨 𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐠𝐞 ⊹ ₊

Reo Mikage prided himself on being composed, confident, and always in control. At least, that’s what he liked to believe—until you came along and threw him off balance without even trying.

You weren't just any girl. You we're his best friend. The one person who could match his wit, challenge his patience, and somehow make his heart race with nothing more than a smile. Not that he’d ever tell her that.

No, Reo Mikage wasn’t about to risk their friendship over some dumb crush.

Except, today was testing him in ways he hadn’t prepared for.

“So, what’s your type?” you asked casually, twirling a strand of hair around your finger as you leaned forward on the table. It was an innocent enough question, one he could dodge if necessary. But before he could turn the conversation back on you, you smirked and added, “I’ll tell you mine first.”

Reo swallowed. He wasn’t sure why, but he had a terrible feeling about this.

“I like guys who are quiet and mysterious. You know, the brooding type. Kind of cold but secretly really soft when you get to know them,” you continued, tapping your chin in thought. “Oh! And he has to be a little clumsy, maybe even bad with money—”

Reo nearly choked on air. “What?”

You nodded as if completely serious. “Yeah! Like the kind of guy who forgets his wallet all the time or gets lost easily.”

He gawked at you. “That’s the opposite of me.”

“I know, right?” you sighed dramatically. “I guess it just can’t be helped.”

Reo didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. You had to be messing with him. Right? But what if you weren’t? What if you really liked someone who was the complete opposite of him? That was a problem. A big problem.

You took one look at his expression and burst into laughter. “Reo, I was kidding! You should’ve seen your face.”

His jaw tightened. “That wasn’t funny.”

“It was a little funny,” you teased, grinning up at him.

Reo sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. He should have known. Of course you we're messing with him. But still, the relief that washed over him was embarrassingly strong.

“You’re such a pain,” he muttered, shaking his head.

You rested her chin on your palm, still smiling. “Why? You worried you didn’t fit my type?”

Reo scoffed, looking away so you wouldn’t see the light dusting of pink creeping onto his ears. “As if I care.”

You hummed, unconvinced. But for now, you let him pretend. Little did Reo know, you had her own little secret—one that involved him and your not-so-fake type after all.

˚ʚhad this on my draft for like weeks and haven't posted it. I'm currently making a Rin and Sae Itoshi one.ɞ˚

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Nagi being told to stay still,stay layed down with his eyes looking up at her, do nothing and be a pillow princess while his fem girlfriend takes the lead ?

------------------⚽------------------------

“You stay right there. Don’t move.”

Nagi blinked up at [Y/N]. His hands pinned above his head. “….Ok….”

Not moving was like Nagi’s favorite thing, next to being with [Y/N] of course. So this was a win-win for him. He needed a win after everything that was going on, and maybe she knew that, so he just laid back and let her take the lead.

[Y/N] smiled down at Nagi and pulled her top off. His face was as still as ever, but he felt his mouth moisten as he looked at her in her bra. “Stay still.” Like he needed to be reminded.

[Y/N] then slithered down to his training shorts. She pulled the band of them and his boxers down. His cock springing out. He might not be able to move according to her, but there wasn’t much he could do about his cock when she was that close.

Nagi waited for a bit as [Y/N] just held there. Starting to squirm a bit as he felt the faintest brush of her breath against his member. “Aren’t you going to….—“I said don’t move.” His eyes went a little wide when she snapped at him. His lip quivering a little. Nagi suddenly realized what ‘don’t move’ meant and he wasn’t sure he liked it anymore.

He started to fidget his hips even more, but [Y/N] just grabbed his hips with one hand and the base of his erection in the other. “Do you want me to stop completely?” Nagi shook his head. “Then don’t move.” The forward pouted but did as she said. It was such a pain. But if he wanted to get what he wanted in the end he would have to play along. Annoying….

[Y/N] hovered in front of his cock, base still in her hand, for a little while long. Clearly punishing him. Then she opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around his cock. It wasn’t sudden at all but finally getting the attention he wanted sent a shock to Nagi’s system he wasn’t expecting. “[Y/N]…”

Her mouth worked over him in a well practiced move. Taking him all the way in before sliding back up to the tip. Using her tongue. Normally [Y/N] would use her hand too, but they were holding Nagi down at his hips to keep him still. He was trying to hold still for her. His eyes twisted in focus as he tried to remember to not move. Keeping him just at the edge of total pleasure.

When it felt like Nagi couldn’t take it anymore, [Y/N] pulled off him completely and sat back up. Quickly pulling off her bra & panties before coming up to straddle him. “Don’t move.” She reminded him with a coy smile before lowering down on his cock.

Nagi watched with a focus usually only dedicated to his games as he stared at her pussy taking in all of his cock. He moaned and squirmed, but stopped himself quickly as he remembered he wasn’t supposed to move. “That’s a good boy.”

Normally Nagi didn’t like to be told what to do. He was his own man and would do what he wanted, when he wanted. But being told what to do by [Y/N], and being praised for it when he did it, set a kind of dual thrill & peace in Nagi. He just moaned and looked up at her. ‘I’m a good boy….’

[Y/N] started to ride him. Slow and patient with her movements. Nagi bit his bottom lip. The color bright against his white skin as he tried to focus on the pleasure but also not moving. And also trying very hard not to cum right away. That wouldn’t be very good boy of him.

[Y/N] sped up a little and Nagi gripped his hands into fists as he tried to stay. She grinned down at him and reached out to take his hands. They immediately unclench and [Y/N] placed his hands at her breasts. Moaning as she moved his hands on her own to massage them. Touching herself with his hands.

Her hips buck a little faster and [Y/N] warned him that she was going to cum. Grinding her hips into his pelvis. His cock throbbing inside her as Nagi was about to cum too. When he did, he couldn’t help but arch his hips up. It was an involuntary reaction, but [Y/N] didn’t seem to mind as she shuttered on top of him.

When they were done [Y/N] fell onto the bed beside him to catch her breath. “Did you like that?”

“Yeah.” Duh, he wanted to say but has learned that sarcasm in these moments was not appreciated. “What was with all that?”

“I thought I would try something new.” She told him. “You always hate moving too much, so I thought you would enjoy being still and taken care of for a change.”

Nagi pouted. “I move when I want to.” Though he did enjoy it, his body still buzzing after sex, he did not like the idea of [Y/N] thinking he was a lazy lover. He would have to be more energetic in the future to prove her wrong. Annoying….

[drferox]

I hope it’s okay to contribute a piece of fiction inspired by this concept & art.

The Successes

I couldn’t fail again, but I didn’t know what else to do.

I was worthless and I was scared. Scared of him, and scared that now I had the faintest glimmer of hope that it would be snuffed out again.

That desperate hope, when you only have one thing to cling to, one thing that you can’t bear to lose, means that success is your only option.

I’d tried to leave my husband once before, but when I told him that only made things worse. He was so angry he was like a different person. If I left, I knew he’d find me. There’s not many places to go in this town, and I had no money saved any more to move away.

My phone buzzed as he called, no doubt demanding to know why I wasn’t home from work yet. I hadn’t even tried to think up a lie about where I was this time. Nor had I bothered to take anything with me, I just needed to get away from that house. Away from him.

But he knows where all my family live, and he’d hurt them for sure if he thought they were hiding me. I don’t think my mum could handle that, and my husband had connections in the police force that would make life difficult for everyone. So I’d promised to stay.

That was my only value, to serve as a shield between my husband and my family.

Which was why I’d kept my phone on as I was driving, I was quite sure that he’d find a way to track it and I didn’t want it to look like I was hiding with family. Instead, the phone would show me driving all the way out here to the abandoned canning factory.

The factory had been out of commission for almost fifteen years, so the temporary fences that had been left behind were rusty and bent, and urban explorers had already found ways into the building. It had been stripped long ago of any useful machinery, and probably a lot of the copper wires, leaving not much more than a shell of bricks, cracked glass windows, and graffiti.

I remember when I was a little girl and the factory was still running, all my friends at school had a family member who worked for the canning factory, or grew fruit for it. There was even a factory outlet that sold slightly dented cans or bulk quantities direct to the public, and it had become a kind of tourist destination for day trippers from Melbourne. So when the canning factory closed down, apparently unable to compete with imported products, the whole town was left in the lurch. A lot of jobs just vanished, and the town hasn’t been the same since.

Teenagers with no employment prospects, or their parents suddenly finding themselves with no work, had vandalised the place over the years. Most of the broken glass had been swept up by previous squatters and homeless people, but even they had moved on from the place. It was too far away from the other resources they needed to survive.

At least, I hoped there was nobody else here.

The old building loomed like a mausoleum in the night, drenched in shadows with only the occasional reflection of light glinting off broken windows.

I took my phone with me for light as I slipped through the bent fences onto the abandoned grounds. Weeds and dandelions had colonised the cracked concrete surrounding the building, still radiating heat from the day. Crickets chirped loudly in the stringy grasses, only falling silent in a radius around me as I passed them. I hoped there weren’t any snakes about.

The roller doors were long rusted shut, but the staff entrance door had been busted off its hinges and rested against the wall. The neglected wood probably would have splintered to a few strong kicks anyway.

The gutted interior of the building was filled with shadows that folded away from the light of my phone, shapes shifting into overlying angular patterns. The sound of the crickets was muffled here, replaced by the dull echo of my tired footsteps.

My phone rang again, and I ignored it.

Sudden movement to my left caused me to spin, the phone light illuminating the guilty eyes of an orange fox, a dead bird hanging in its jaw. It froze in place, caught in the middle of its crime, and hesitated for a moment. It must have decided I was more scared of it than it was of me, as it eventually trotted deeper into the factory.

But if I wanted success then I knew I had to climb.

Though the machines were long gone, metal stairs led up to walkways two and three storeys above me. They looked distinctly unsafe, but they were my best option. To do nothing, to stay where I was, invited a failure that I couldn’t risk.

There was a sturdy handrail on one side as I climbed. Stars glittered through broken skylights but did nothing to illuminate the shadows within the gutted building. The metal creaked underfoot, resenting what was probably the first human footsteps upon them in quite some time.

My old Granny used to ponder what stories a building might tell if it could, and I couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for this one as I climbed. The factory had been the backbone of our town for decades, we’d come to depend upon it and think of it fondly. It had been a landmark and marker of success, the site always bustling with activity, but now it was just an empty husk. It was the grave of the industry it once housed.

But I needed to be higher.

My Granny always said, if you’re hoping the heavens will hear you, it doesn’t hurt to get as close as you can.

I tentatively stepped onto the third storey walkway, shifting my weight slowly as I assessed how sturdy it was. It groaned under the new weight, the sound echoing through the empty building.

The air was so still up here. My phone barely penetrated the shadows, leaving me feeling like I’d climbed up into a different world. But even up here, I couldn’t shake the feeling that my husband could find me, and he would be so, so angry when he did.

As I shuffled along the walkway looking for another way to get higher, I wondered what my options really were. Every week the news would run a story of yet another woman, a mother, fiancé or ex-wife, that had been murdered or maimed by her partner. If society failed so many, what chance did I have of success? I was nobody, with nothing.

Suddenly my phone rang again, and I stumbled in surprise. I staggered forward and caught myself on the railing, but dropped my phone. I watched it fall, colliding with railings on its way towards the factory floor below.

As the echoes of the collision faded, I took a moment in the darkness to realise how easily that could have been me. I wasn’t game to climb any higher.

Under the half collapsed roof I was shrouded in darkness. A little moonlight reached other sections of the factory, and I could catch glimpses of stars through the cracks above, but my spot on the railing was pitch black. And it would have to do.

I don’t think I ever truly believed in a God, certainly not an all knowing and all merciful one. But I believed in people.

I fumbled for the box of matches in my pocket. I couldn’t see what I was doing, but felt my way until I could light a match.

The tiny flame burned brightly, almost blinding after being so used to the light. I spoke with a shaky voice as the heat crept down towards my fingers.

“I am the granddaughter of Granny Mae MacRobertson,” I spoke to the flame, as loud as I dared. “Please, if you can hear me Granny, I truly need your help now.”

It was a strange plead in the dark, and I held back a sob as the flame burned out half way down the match. There was no answer, save the occasional creak of neglected metal.

I fumbled for another match, and somewhere below me I thought I heard my phone buzz again.

I took a deep breath, and lit the second match.

“Please,” I spoke to the flame, my voice slowly fading as I held back tears. “Please Granny. Please, anyone that can hear me. Help me.”

I continued to beg the flame, the darkness and whatever might be listening between them as the match burned low, only dropping it when it singed my fingers.

I was too tired to curse. I wiped my tears on my sleeve before seeking a third match to try again. I made a mental note to leave myself enough matches to find my way back down.

The third match spluttered to light, and a hand reached out from the darkness to hold my wrist steady. Another hand followed with a fat, white candle, lit it on my match, and then the first hand released me.

I didn’t initially register what I’d done.

“What is it you’ve come seeking?” said the being in front of me.

It took me a moment to gather my thoughts as my eyes adjusted to the candlelight. This wasn’t a voice I knew.

A feminine figure stood on the walkway, holding the candle before me, grasped in both her hands. She wore a long dress of some sort with puffy pale sleeves, and had dark hair cascading messily about her shoulders.

“You’re not my Granny,” I said, disorientated.

“No, young one,” the figure spoke in a soft voice. “But we’ve met. We have met many souls in their many afterlives.”

“We?” I asked, and the figure nodded behind me.

I turned, as fast as I dared on the high walkway. The meagre light revealed a second figure, very similar to the first, standing behind me.

“We are born of the same ritual,” the second figure said by way of cryptic explanation. “Sisters, in that way.”

She floated around me, over a space that should have been a drop to the floor below, to stand beside the first figure.

“What would you ask of us, child?” they spoke in unison.

“I, uh… what are you?” I stammered weakly. As my eyes were adjusting to the candlelight, I could slowly make out more details. I could see the glimmer of their eyes, but couldn’t read their expressions.

“We are the Successes,” said the second figure.

“Don’t spare a thought for those that came before us,” suggested the first.

I told a deep breath, gathering any courage I could find.

“Well, I do need a success.”

The Successes stood side by side, tilting their heads in curiosity, mirroring each other.

“And how have you failed?” they asked in unison.

In the lone candlelight the features of the Successes seemed to shift and flow. Though there was no breeze up here, their hair seemed to float softly around their heads, blending together.

“In every way,” I confessed. “I fail every day. I’ve failed to leave my husband, to escape. I have no money of my own, nowhere to go that’s safe from him.”

As my eyes adjusted to the meagre light, I noticed more details about the Successes in front of me. The one holding the candle, her free hand wasn’t actually connected to her wrist, but was dangling by a chain threaded with occasional beads of bone. Nevertheless she could still move it to smooth down her skirt or brush away a wisp of her long dark hair that had drifted too close to the flame.

The other Success had something similar happen to two of her fingers. They were severed, but reattached with short lengths of beaded chain. Like the first, she still seemed to have complete control over the digits, though the chain made them longer than they should have been.

“Nothing I do is ever good enough,” I continued. “Not for him, not for myself. I never know what the right thing is anymore, but I think that’s because everything has been wrong for so long.”

I hesitated and placed my hand on my abdomen. On the ground below, further below than I remember it being, my phone buzzed again.

The Success with empty hands peered forward at me, tilting her head in curiosity at an unnatural angle.

Finally able to see in the low light, I realised what was so uncanny about her face.

It was upside down. Completely the wrong way up.

I stared, realising that in the chaos of flowing hair, on what I had assumed was the top of her neck, there was the stump of a severed neck. I could even make out the edge of the windpipe.

I looked down quickly.

The Success reached out slowly, cupping my chin in her disjointed hand.

“And what else?” she asked softly.

This felt like if ever there was a moment to be truthful, this was it, begging for help from the supernatural.

“I…” I spoke slowly, forcing out the words that I never wanted to say, “I failed my first child.”

The Success drew back to stand beside her sister.

“Explain,” she hissed, and I swear the candle dimmed. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, and a queasy churning in my stomach.

“He told me I wouldn’t be a good mother,” I explained weakly, “That I was too disorganised, forgetful and not loving enough. I wouldn’t be safe enough, wouldn’t be good enough, to raise a child properly and they’d end up messed up.”

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady instead of sobbing.

“We argued. I thought he’d be happy, but he was so angry. We ended up, uh, well he pushed me into the table, and I fell down…” my voice trailed off with the memory. So much of it was a blur, so filled with grief and regret.

“A few days later, I wasn’t pregnant anymore. He apologized, but I’m afraid it’ll happen again.” I rubbed my hand across my abdomen, as though it might comfort my secret contained within.

“My period is late, and I was positive on the stick test two days ago,” I said, looking up at the Successes. They stood with their heads close together, as though conferring silently on what I was saying.

“I failed my first child,” I repeated, rallying to find the strength to continue “I don’t want to fail this one.”

The Successes drifted forward, leaving the candle hovering in the air. Their long, dark hair flowed behind them like a cloud and I got glimpses of more of their bodies. Not just their upside down heads, but sections of exposed limbs were also bloodied, gaps reconnected by chain with beads of bone. Most of their bodies were covered in the long flowing dresses that they wore, and I wondered if they were also disarticulated in that way underneath their clothing.

“I would have had a child once,” the second Success whispered before her voice morphed into a hiss, “until men chose me to become this.” There was a palpable rage in her voice.

“They thought we wouldn’t remember the price extracted from us, they thought our lives were cheap, but we succeeded in extracting our own repatriations.” I caught a glimpse of her teeth in the candlelight, and I’m sure they were sharper in that moment than human teeth should be.

“What do you need for success, child?” this first Success asked, her hands drifting through the space between us, as though examining something that wasn’t really there.

“Remembering that one doesn’t always know what success is, until one has achieved it,” said the second, stroking the air in a similar way, severed fingers drifting ever closer to my skin.

“I just need to succeed in escaping my husband,” I said, looking from one Success to the other. “We just need to get away, so he can’t find us.”

“And where will you go?” asked the first Success, stroking my cheek. Her touch was so delicate that it was barely there at all.

“I don’t know,” I confessed, meeting her gaze. Her upside down expression was so hard to read, but if I had to guess I think it was curiosity.

“And how will you afford to raise a child?” asked the second Success, and I swivelled to face her. She had bent down to peer at my abdomen, also stroking it gently, as though she could see through me to what grew within.

“I’ll find a way, get a job somewhere,” I said, with no specific plan. I could make a plan once we were safe.

“Hmm,” the Successes said. They stepped back, or I assumed they did, I couldn’t see any feet below their long dress, and now I wasn’t sure what anatomy they had. Then they began to circle me slowly, ignoring the railing of the walkway. Their eyes were fixed on my face, or possibly looking through me to stare at each other, as their long hair drifted behind them like fog, surrounding me in their own vortex.

“How will you pay?” they asked in unison at long last.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, having not really thought about what the cost of a bargain might be. I hadn’t expected to get this far. “What do you want?”

There was a pause, and the whole world was silent for a breath, maybe two.

“What may we have?” said the first Success, stepping into view as they both continued to circle around me. The candlelight behind her lit up her silhouette for just a step, and I caught a glimpse of just how broken she really was.

“For this was done to us, by men,” she said before continuing to wander in their circle around me. The second Success stepped between the candle and I.

“And so we have never truly died. We wander the endlessly branching afterlives that compose the human concept of death, but there is no realm which will allow us to stay.” With the lone candle behind her, I thought I caught a glimpse of chains, interwoven by hair, anchoring her upside down head to her shoulders.

She stepped out of the light, continuing to circle, and her sister stepped back in.

“We do not hunger, do not age, yet we yearn for that peace of death.” She reached forward with one hand into their circular path around me, her arm disconnecting at the wrist and elbow, revealing the beaded chain that held her limbs together. Her other arm trailed behind her, floating along, as if dragged by the chain at shoulder.

They were pacing faster now, hair and limbs caught up in the bay visible spiral.

“You understand,” said the second, coming back into view, and in much the same state as the first, “that one must live in order to die. And as we are not truly either, we can only be neither.”

She stopped beside me, and her sister did the same.

“We cannot die without having lived,” said the first Success calmly, as though it was the most normal statement in the world.

“So,” said the second, coming to a halt on my other side. “We want your life.”

“No!” I yelled, looking back towards the stairs, trying to figure out an escape route. “I don’t want to die! I’m pregnant!”

“We didn’t say your death, silly child,” the first Success scolded me, reaching forward to tap my nose with a barely attached finger.

“We want your life,” explained the second with a chuckle. I turned to face the speaker. “Your every day, your every choice, will belong to us.”

“And,” said the first, leaning in to whisper into my ear, “You will succeed.”

I paused, considering my options, because there weren’t many. If I gave up and went home right now, I’d have a lot of explaining to do, and no doubt that my husband would be so angry.

“Will my baby be okay?” I asked, because really, that was the thing that mattered most. That was what counted as success.

“That is our intent,” said the second Success, peering down at my abdomen again.

“You will succeed, and they will thrive.”

“If they do not, then know that is not our will,” said the first, in an oddly comforting way.

I looked from one Success to the other, then down to my own belly. It might not have been a good option, but I didn’t really have any good options left. Besides, I’d already made so many bad decisions, with my track record it was probably a good thing to hand the decision making over to someone else. Particularly if it was supernatural entities that were intending for me to Succeed.

“Alright,” I said, as clearly as I dared. “I agree.”

“Very well,” they said in unison. They both extended an arm towards the candle, which floated over to them. They both grasped it gently before each grabbing one of my hands and placing the candle firmly within it.

“Now go somewhere with people and light, to eat. You’re hungry, child, it’s been a long day,” said the first Success.

“Indeed, you don’t just eat for yourself now,” said the second Success, patting my belly in an overly familiar way.

Gentle but insistent hands on my shoulders turned me back towards the stairs I had climbed to get here.

“Then go stay with family for a couple of days,” said the first Success.

“And do not retrieve your phone,” added the second Success.

“Oh, okay,” I stammered. “But then what….”

“Then make good choices,” said the first Success, with a wide smile.

“Remember, it’s not just for you now,” said the second, before blowing out the candle.

Pure darkness descended, accompanied by silence. I waited for a moment, but it sounded like I was alone.

I fumbled for another match to relight the candle, but there was no sign of the Successes.

I looked at the candle they had left me. It looked old, and possibly handmade, with little diverts and fingerprints in the wax.

I wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but they were right; I was hungry.

Carefully I made my way back to the ground by candlelight, returned to my car and drove off to the local McDonalds. It was one of the few places still open this late at night, and I could afford to eat something with the loose change I scrounged up in the car.

Once I had a burger in me, I decided to go by my mother’s house. I didn’t want to go home yet, and I wanted to assure myself that she was okay. In the end, I decided to sleep on the couch there that night.

I didn’t leave the house that day, told my mother I was feeling a bit sick, and that wasn’t entirely a lie. I wasn’t ready to face my husband, and was expecting him to turn up looking for me here at any moment.

It was mid morning when there was finally a knock at the door. But instead of my husband, it was another police officer. He said he had serious news and asked to come inside.

After asking where I had been, he told me that my husband was in a very serious car accident last night, somewhere in the backroads near the abandoned canning factory. If I was up to it, they requested I formally identify the body, but warned it was fairly gruesome.

I was in shock, appropriate for a grieving widow, but agreed. When they lifted the sheet to reveal his head, it was unmistakably him, but his expression was far from peaceful. From the way the sheet lay across his body, it looked like parts of him had been severed: at the wrist, the other arm, and the pelvis. The layout of the body looked familiar.

An officer, someone who had worked with my husband, said it looked like he’d been thrown from the car and dragged himself out. One of the worse accidents the coroner had seen, and they weren’t sure if there was malicious intent, but they had footage of me at the McDonalds while at the time it happened. He emphasised the need for me to stay safe, and I confessed that I thought I was pregnant.

The families of coppers get fairly well taken care of, as it turns out. And his colleagues were particularly courteous as the was a rumour that there was some sort of gang involvement in his death, but never proven. I received bereavement leave, help with the funeral, his superannuation paid out, and it turned out there was a life insurance policy.

Everything was looking up. I felt safe, I would be financially secure after the baby was born, and as his tragic widow my husband’s colleagues were looking out for me.

But there was one more stroke of luck, one unlikely coincidence that came to light at the prenatal ultrasound. We’d discovered at the first one that I was most likely carrying twins, and this was confirmed at the second one.

Twin girls. Sisters, who would actually get to live.

The 1st Headless Hauntings: The Successes

The ritual was very particular so it's honestly incredibly impressive that it worked twice, but no one ever really talks about that fact because then people start to ask how many times it failed.

It didn't matter much anyway. Once the young ladies (a disgraced maid and a lost traveler, no one "worth missing" in their former lives) properly settled into their Debirth, they both had a lot more...agency...than anyone expected.

Very particular that ritual. Very rough translation that's missing important information like, "will the victim remember what we've done?" and, "does listening to us mean that they'll obey or does it just mean they'll hear what we're saying?"

LOT of assumptions made there.

The ritual stopped long ago, and many who were involved met mysterious tragic ends, but the Successes remain as translators, seers, and psychopomps to those who either need someone with the mortaliminal knowledge to lift the veil for them, or someone with the common sense to shoo them away before they become a danger to themselves or others.

These days they find their way of not-life fulfilling, and sometimes downright adventurous. But at the core of all their wandering between realms, leading people in and out of the endlessly branching afterlives that make up the concept of death, they're really looking for one which will let them put their work aside and stay for good.

[revelboo]

How are Grimlock and his human doing?

Shiver Pt 5

Grimlock x Reader

• Venting as he watches you dragging a tiny chair closer to the door, but still firmly on the inside of the cabin, he knows you’re scared of him. This is the best compromise he’s going to get until he proves to you that he’s not a threat. Gets it even as it bothers him. Knows you both know he can get to you if he wants to, but you’re calmer hiding inside the cabin and you’re talking to him. That’s all that matters, letting the sound of your voice soothe him. Letting him think. Try to remember. “Okay,” you say, looking out the open door at where he’s lying on the ground just outside to be able to see you. “We’ve been talking all morning, maybe-”

• “Talk,” he insists, visor brightening as he watches your every move with predatory interest. So much for asking for a break. You’ve never been super chatty and you’ve already told him about your work in painstaking detail, your family, your home. What else are you supposed to talk about? And he growls when you get up again and fetch your backpack. Skin prickling as the cabin creaks while you dig out a protein bar and return to your chair.

• “See this? I have two more of these and half a bottle of water.” Voice indignant as you tear at the packaging of the tiny object, he vents when you take a bite. That’s your fuel? Tiny like you are. “I’m going to need food and water soon. I need to go home.” And he’s rumbling softly, hooking a servo against the doorframe. Does the structure really need this wall? It’d be better without it, but you tense when he messes with it, so he stills. “I can’t talk to you if I starve to death.”

• “Grimlock hunt,” he growls and you freeze. Hunt what? The cabin creaks when he pushes up slightly and reaches to shut the door with a firm “you stay.” Staggering upright, you make it to the window in time to watch him go from giant robot to giant dinosaur. Thunderous footsteps quick as he darts into the woods with surprising speed for something so big. Heart racing, you lunge for your backpack, pulling it on and shoving the door open, running in the opposite direction. How long until Grimlock catches something and returns to find you gone?

• Has no idea what humans eat, but with those blunt little teeth you must be a herbivore. That thing you were eating didn’t seem to be meat. He’s seen humans growing things in fields nearby. That must be human food. He’ll fetch you some and you’ll be happy and talk to him. Tail swaying as he shoulders smaller trees out of his way, he’s alert. Remembering that the Insecticons had encroached into his territory hunting. Needs to be quick so you’re not left alone too long while they’re in the area, because they’ll eat anything. You included.

Previous

[matchpointfaist]

sheltered art! x flirty reader pt iv

pretty piece of flesh ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

halloween .

not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, art found himself wandering the rooms of a packed frat house, trying his best to steer clear of temptation. ever since he'd had that little taste of you, all the things he once saw as sins, were now just forbidden fruit; temptations dangled before him, calling to him, pulling him in deeper until eventually he'd betray everything he'd been taught, the very things he stood for and used to believe in.

it was halloween night, and he was dressed in chain link with a cheap prop sword dangling on his hip, as he and the tennis team had gone as king arthur and the knights. he found himself looking for you, in that small, subconscious way he'd grown all too comfortable with. sweeping the room for any trace of your hair, or your dark lipstick, or straining his ears for the slightest sound of your laugh.

you hadn't sought him out after that night. he told himself it was a good thing, that this thing between you could only end badly, but he knew it was all a lie. he checked his phone obsessively, eager for just a text from you, a confirmation that he didn't humiliate himself and run you off forever. in the back of his mind, he couldn't shake the thought that he should have known this would happen. you were too good to be true.

in the midst of his self pity, he glanced up as someone said your name, and there you were. like something from heaven, or hell, or wherever the fuck you had to have come from. gone was the dark eyeliner and lipstick, the sultry look you always seemed to have. you were all clean, light colors, innocent little look in your eye. a pretty white dress, fluffy angel wings, and a shimmery halo on your head.

it felt like you were torturing him, mocking his faith, or the faith he'd lost the moment you sank to your knees in front of him. the way you'd said god's name even as his come shined on your lips; he was weak in the knees, in the middle of all his friends, watching you walk over, the memories on a reel in his mind.

"art," you smiled, so sweet, so cloying, "i didn't know you'd be here. cool costume," he tried to remember how to speak normally, how not to give himself away for how depraved he was feeling, "uh, yeah- i got invited. you look beautiful, i mean, i love your costume,"

you laughed, and jesus, your hand was on his arm again. "i thought maybe you'd appreciate it," you smiled, blinking up at him with wide, faux doe eyes, "you think god would mind you being with an angel, art?"

he didn't give a fuck what god minded. he didn't care about anything other than your hand on his arm and the look in your eye and the cross necklace he now recognized as the one he suspiciously couldn't find after your last meeting, now dangled around your neck. he threw faith out the window just as he had the second you entered his bedroom, taking your hand in his and pulling you to a more secluded part of the house, even with his head screaming at him that he was taking this too far.

"you didn't call," he said quietly, "i thought you didn't want to see me, and now you're here and that's my necklace, and what are you doing dressed up like an angel anyway?" he could hear how ridiculous he sounded, like he had any right to demand you call him, like he knew what he was doing when it came to you at all.

"there ya go," you sounded pleased, a small smile on your lips, "knew you'd come out of that shell eventually. you missed me, isn't that right?" and then you were on your tip toes, leaning up to kiss him, so sweet and so dangerous.

he pulled you against him, practically clinging to you, his hands resting under your angel wings and his mouth hungry against yours. "missed you too," you mumbled between kisses, all sloppy and desperate and wrong just right.

he couldn't think, couldn't focus on anything other than this, than your hands wandering over his costume and the way you bit as his bottom lip just enough to make him crazy. and then you were pulling him into one of the bedrooms, and he couldn't say no, couldn't even think that he'd ever wanted anything but this.

he pulled you to the bed, pulling you into his lap, panting against your lips and letting his hands wander wherever he felt like it. he was so tired of being good, of doing the right thing, and you felt so fucking good against him. and god, the sounds you made, the little whimpers between kisses and the way you mumbled his name as you kissed down his neck, biting his collarbone, sucking a bruise into the delicate skin behind his ear.

"want you," he whined as you nipped at the skin, his hips bucking beneath you, "god, please, i'll be so good," you giggled against him, kissing back up to his mouth, "know you'd be good," you sounded almost like you were teasing him, "not gonna take your virginity in a frat guys bedroom, art,"

but then your hands were wandering even lower, pulling down his pants, and he prayed that you didn't mean it, that you'd let him fuck you and finally end this horrible yearning. instead, you left him in his boxers and settled back in his lap, kissing him with a feverish need.

you ground your hips against him, and he could feel the wetness seeping through the cotton of the layers between you, a low groan rumbling in his throat. "how bad do you want it?' you whispered as you trailed your kisses low once again, "tell me, wanna hear you say it," he dug his fingers into your hips, trying to keep some form of composure, "want it so bad, please, just want something-"

you reached down, sliding down his boxers just enough for his cock to slap against his abs, smiling as he sucked in a breath at the feeling. then you settled back into his lap, gently taking him into your hand, and he nearly fainted when you slid him inside your soaked panties, grinding against him.

he gasped, his eyes closing, his teeth digging into his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. "oh my god, you're so wet," he groaned, pulling you back and forth against him with shaking hands, "feels so good, i'm-"

"all for you," you grabbed his jaw, pulling him in almost close enough to kiss you, "know you're close, just go ahead," you said it so sweetly, like you really didn't mind, and he felt so bad but you felt so good, he was pulling away in an instant, spilling cum all over your thighs, panting and whining and rutting against your skin.

he rested his head against your chest as he caught his breath, apologizing for making a mess of you, but you waved it off, running your fingers through his hair in a way that almost made him feel like this really meant something to you.

"you didn't finish," he mumbled into your skin, pressing a soft kiss against your chest, "let me- can you show me? wanna make you feel good, too," you shifted off his lap in response, taking one of his hands in yours, "so sweet," you hummed, "come here,"

and then your legs were spread, and your panties were pulled to the side, and he could've died right there and gone straight to heaven. "so beautiful," he hated how in awe he sounded, but he truly was. you felt like a gift from god, a reward for how good he'd been for so long.

you motioned for him to come closer, and he was so close he was nearly whining again, need thrumming in his veins. "tell me what to do," he practically begged, looking up at you through thick lashes, "wanna be good,"

you might've been dressed like an angel, but you felt like some sort of demon, some siren, as art donaldson sat between your thighs, following all your instructions so eagerly, lapping at your cunt like he'd done it a million times before. you knew he'd be good, so eager to please, so sweet and patient. he was so good, such a good man, perfect for you to teach and grow with.

you didn't care about any of that as your hands were fisted in his hair, rocking against his face as he sucked at your clit, little whines leaving his mouth and vibrating against you. he was rutting against the mattress, desperate like he was the one getting head, and that made it so much better.

"gonna- fuck, art, gonna come for you," you moaned, your grip on his hair growing tighter as that only encouraged him more. he was chasing it, hungry for it, so desperate to be good to you. you came with a sharp gasp, your eyes rolling back as he worked the orgasm out of you, so thorough and devoted.

when you were finished, he crawled up to kiss you, his lips wet and shining in the dim bedroom light. "was that- did i do good?" he asked timidly, and you nodded, pulling him down to wrap your arms around his shoulders. "so good," you mumbled, tracing your fingertips down his back, "you're perfect,"

you let yourself fall asleep despite it not even being your house, despite you telling yourself that this was a mistake, sleeping tangled up with art like this.

you'd never slept better.

[wtfaniii]

Hi ;-)

Request for an In-Ho x preteen platonic female reader where reader is the adopted shy introverted Daughter of Jun-Ho (frontmens Brother) got adopted 1 year after In-Ho dissapierd and got into the games by accident (cheating her id and faking it) how would ir be if the first time she speaks towards the Group of Gi-Hun and noticed that maybe player 001 used his right hand to throw the toy spin at the second game and for eating with a fork he used his left hand? So she could say neither he is both handed or left handed and mention something like my appa jun-ho can write with left and right but using a weapon he is just right handed funny huh? 💕🙈

I like the idea, I hope what I wrote is to your liking :D

Curiosities, observations and other small qualities

You were a smart but calm girl, with many fascinations towards different things and you constantly asked questions without stopping when you noticed something, that's why your father told you that you would be a researcher and there was no better compliment for you than that, however, for a certain person that would be more of an inconvenience.

¡Hwang In-ho x fem reader platonic!

master list¡!

You were curious, you always had been, since you could remember you questioned everything, even why a fly moved its legs when it stood on food.

Questioning everything and everyone brought you a lot of knowledge, you were smart and active but it also brought you problems, sometimes you found out things that you would rather not have done or people got fed up with you, that's why you spent the first five years of your life in an orphanage feeling the rejection of others.

Until one day there was an accident at the orphanage, the police came to investigate a little and despite feeling somewhat threatened by your superiors when talking about the negligence in the place, you did not stay silent, you glided through the hallways until you could talk to a police officer about your concerns.

You never imagined that the same police officer you spoke to would adopt you a month later, of course he was not going to leave you alone there after having practically ratted out the director of the orphanage.

The feeling of confidence that Jun-ho gave you from the beginning only increased from that moment, soon he was a fun, affectionate and responsible father to you.

Grandma Hwang was the sweetest, she made you chocolate chip cookies every time Jun-ho left you in her care and sometimes she let you sleep in.

Life certainly improved for you but you never stopped asking constant questions, Jun-ho congratulated you for that, he said that you would be a great detective when you grew up but your grandmother didn't seem so happy about that, she said that you would get in trouble.

And she was right.

One afternoon while you were waiting for the next train to take you home after having spent the afternoon doing homework at a friend's house, you noticed something peculiar.

You were leaning against the wall eating a bar of chocolate, with your headphones on and the hood of your sweatshirt over your head when in front of you, at the other end of the tracks, you saw a man in a suit with a briefcase playing Ddakji with another man.

Your eyes practically shone with interest when you saw that if you win the man with the briefcase he would give money, but a grimace formed on your lips when you saw that if lost would receive a hard slap.

The salesman ended up handing a card to that man and turned around to leave but at that moment you ran to catch up with him right on the stairs.

You went towards him but when you faced him his posture seemed really intimidating, you took two steps back with your best friendly smile.

At first he didn't let you play, you weren't on his list and you were just a teenager, you would probably die as soon as you stepped on the first arena but your insistence was too much to the point that he got fed up with you and let play.

You didn't know what you were getting into when you took the money had earned and the card that he offered you, but your curiosity was so much that that night you couldn't even sleep because of the intrigue of knowing what would happen if you dialed that number, he said he would do you a favor, he warned you not to call before he left, but that warning only increased your curiosity.

So the next morning the first thing you did was call, they asked for your full name and age, you lied, you said were twenty-five years old but you were barely turning sixteen.

—I'll be late today appa, I'm going to a friend's house —You told your father that same day while you were getting out of the car to go to school.

—Okay, but call me to come get you, I don't want you to go alone at night —Jun-ho responded with a fatherly tone and a small smile.

You nodded and said goodbye to him to enter the school but "going to a friend's house" was an excuse, you would go to the address those people gave you so you could enter those games.

[...]

You regretted it completely, there were times when your actions led you to good things, maybe bad things… ¿But this? it was already an extreme.

If you had known that approaching that man in a suit would be your biggest butterfly effect, you would have walked away immediately but now here you were, wearing the same set of clothes as the rest while you looked curiously at player 001, the man who condemned them all when he pressed the button with the blue circle.

You stayed away from the rest as all the players dispersed, some with sorrowful expressions and others with triumph, the votes had been made and staying had been the final decision by majority.

But your gaze focused on player 001, his vote was decisive and you were curious to know why he pressed the circle but then you saw him form an almost imperceptible malicious smile while he stared at 456,

Player 456 had shouted that he had already been in those games during the voting and helped the others during "green light, red light", he knew what would happen and judging by his expression of anguish and defeat you deduced that it was true, he was telling the truth, now, ¿why was 001 interested in him? ¿Was he looking for your help or was it something else? The man felt your gaze and turned to see you, you immediately turned away and walked tensely.

You stayed away and alone, just watching the others form groups until you saw some of them surround 456, once again your curiosity got the better of you and you went towards them cautiously like a small cat walking among dogs.

In-ho had a clear goal but since he saw you, observing him in detail, he knew that you would be a problem, for that and other reasons. ¿What the hell was a teenager doing in his games?

After the other curious players left, he sat next to Gi-hun and tried to continue talking but he noticed your presence a few steps in front of them.

—¿Can we help you with something young lady? —390 asked, looking at you with curiosity.

Due to your poor ability to socialize you wanted to deny and walk away but you also had to keep in mind that this place was survive or die, you needed to be with the smartest team and what better than the team of a former winner so gathering all the courage you had in your body you spoke.

—¿Can I be on your team? —They looked at each other doubtfully until 001 spoke.

—¿How old are you girl?

—Twenty-five —Your answer was so sure that it made them hesitate but just by looking at you in silence it made tell your real age —I'll be sixteen next month.

—¿What kind of debts would a sixteen year old girl have? —asked 388 from his bed and with his mouth full of food.

You pressed your lips into a straight line and glared at him —¿Are going to accept me on your team or not?

Before anyone could say anything Gi-hun nodded silently and you sat down next to him. Well, at least you wouldn't be alone anymore during your stay in this place.

When the lights went out and everyone went to sleep you curled up in your bed and tried to close your eyes but it was impossible, even with 456 and 001 awake on guard you couldn't sleep peacefully.

In-ho noticed the uncomfortable way you moved in bed so he spoke to you cautiously and invited you to stand guard with them at least until you get sleepy.

—¿Aren't you afraid of this place? Your parents are probably very worried about you, ¿What would your mother say if she knew that you were not eating and sleeping well? —He said cautiously as he waved goodbye to Gi-hun, now it would only be the two of you on guard.

—I don't have a mother... —You mumbled, drawing with your fingers on the ground and when you saw the expression on him face you smiled sideways —I never met her, I only live with my appa and the halmonim.

—Well…then they'll wondering where you are —He said looking at you with curiosity, in case you were to die here, he wanted to know who would miss you

You twisted the lips and nodded silently, you missed them and wanted to return to them as soon as possible but the idea that you could die tomorrow or in the next five days tormented you.

As if he had read your thoughts, he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder and speak: —You'll be fine, we'll get out of here alive and you'll see them again.

Those words, although seemed simple and empty, were a flash of hope for you, you smiled at him with closed lips and nodded in agreement, anyway, this were just children's games ¿right?

With that thought in mind you went to sleep but when you woke up the next morning with that melody ringing in your ears you couldn't help but feel anxious, your stomach was in knots and the desire to vomit due to stress and fear was evident on your face.

—¿Are you fine? ¿Do you want to go to the bathroom? —001 asked you as followed Gi-hun walking down the colorful stairs to the next game.

You assured him that you were fine and continued walking in silence, "This is going to be a piece of cake, it's just games" you thought as you looked curiously at the playground where they were taken, it was colorful.

But when the robotic voice said that they should make teams of five you reconsidered your chances of survival.

You walked among all the players looking for who would want you on their team but being a female teenager diminished your advantages considerably, you saw player 333 approach you, he was going to ask you to be part of his team but before he could do so two hands placed themselves firmly on your shoulders and dragged you to team 456.

—Now we are complete —001 said with triumph and a smile on his face shaking you gently making you smile gratefully.

After giving them the instructions, each team organized themselves, sat on the floor and waited their turn.

Each team would have to go through a series of games while having their ankles tied to each other and in a time of five minutes, they had to be coordinated and sure, you said you were good at Ddakji so that would be your game.

You felt motivated, you analyzed every move the previous players made and noticed every small mistake that led to their death, your team would not make those mistakes.

In-ho saw you from time to time, you were observant, a detail that he would not overlook, that gave you value points because he was almost sure that you would be one of the finalists if another stronger player did not kill you before that.

However, he never thought that you could also become a problem.

—¿How do you know my name? —Gi-hun asked after he had mistakenly called him by his name.

—I heard that's what your friend called you and I thought could do it too, ¿does it bother you?

His justification got him out of trouble but he could feel your intriguing gaze boring into the back of his neck, your mind wandered in previous conversations, you hadn't really heard him but maybe it was because you were nervous, even so, your curiosity and intrigue were present.

You proposed saying their names, maybe that would help build confidence in the team and they could get out of this test alive.

Each team had their turn to play, some passed successfully and others ended up dead, when it was their turn to play you noticed that they were the last, you didn't pay much attention to this detail but your brain saved it just in case.

You were the first to play, you did it the first time and the rest celebrated, then it was Jung-bae's turn, another triumph, Dae-ho also had immediate success.

Now it was Young-il's turn, it would be his turn to spin the top and everyone would believe that like the first three he would do it the first time but their hearts stopped and the air left their lungs when the top didn't spin on the ground.

You remained silent during the three attempts he made and failed, time was ticking and your heart was beating like crazy but you clearly noticed how in the last attempt that was successful he used his left hand.

Curious, first he did it with his right hand and failed three times, now he did it with his left hand and he did it the first time.

[...]

Once again in the huge dormitory, all the players who managed to survive the second game were scattered talking among small groups, alliances they had formed with this test.

You were happy, you put aside your suspicions about Young-il convincing yourself that you were just paranoid and there was nothing strange.

—I apologize for the reaction I had a few minutes ago —He said as they sat on the stairs of the huge bunk beds —I lost control...

He finished with a smile that almost seemed like genuine apology and understanding but when you spoke the expression on his face tensed.

—That's fine, but if you knew you were left-handed you should have tried left from the beginning —You said calmly, as if you were talking about a simple observation, but the rest's gaze rested on him with intrigue and even slight suspicion, especially Gi-hun, because this observation added to the fact that he had called him by his confident name, caused a certain distrust —Maybe this way we would have saved ourselves time and that scare.

The soft laugh you made at the end managed to lighten the atmosphere a little but In-ho knew that your words had caused a crack in his plan.

—I usually use the right but I think I'm good at playing with the left —He lied, letting out a small laugh to disguise the tension in his body.

Fortunately for him, Dae-ho changed the conversation bragging a little about how they were about to pass all the minigames without any errors, but In-ho remained attentive to you ¿How could a simple teenager be so observant? Now he was going to make sure you died in the next game, he wasn't going to risk slipping up with you around.

He had a problem with you and he was going to eliminate it, the complete opposite of what you thought, you believed that Young-il was someone you could trust and for no reason you had hopes that with him by your side you could get out of there alive.

After the votes, the pink guards distributed the food to each player but you had trouble opening your milk box.

—¿Can you help me? —You asked Young-il next to you.

He took the box and opened it without any problem but you noticed again that he used his left hand causing a giggle on your part.

—¿What are you laughing at?

—You are left-handed.

In-ho looked at the rest to make sure no one had heard you and then turned to look at you, this time with sharper and colder eyes.

He was definitely going to make sure you died in tomorrow's game

But the next thing you said made his mind go blank.

—My appa Jun-ho can write with his left and right but when he uses his weapon he is right-handed —You said with a small smile on your lips.

—¿Is your dad a police officer? —He asked, his voice lower than he would have liked, you nodded taking a bite of the piece of bread you held in your hands —Repeat your last name to me.

His voice sounded demanding and tense so you looked at him intrigued but when you saw that he was serious you responded.

—Hwang, ¿Do you know my dad? —You asked, curious and with a happy expression on your face.

You were his brother's daughter ¿how could that be possible? He didn't know about any existing girlfriend but now he reconsiders his decision, you were family but if you kept talking about every observation you had and went so far as to give him away he would kill you before you even spoke.

—No —He said with a more serene expression but his eyes still reflected something that you couldn't decipher —I've only heard him name before.

Now In-ho had a severe conflict.

But one thing was for sure, he would try to keep you close, whether to protect you or simply to make sure you didn't notice anything suspicious.

[paulyenvol6]

Adore Me

Based on a request I accidentally deleted hahha but it was about Pedro sleeping with reader at an early stage of their relationship. I thought I make it so they have done other things but haven't slept together yet (but they both aren't virgins anymore). Enjoy :))

Contains: smut, oral (f receiving), protected sex, p in v, fingering, dirty talk, teasing, begging, soft!Pedro, slightly dom!Pedro but very sweet and caring, Pedro talking you through it, lots of praise, fluff, aftercare

Wordcount: ~4.62

Masterlist

"You sure about this?" he asked against your mouth while your hands fumbled with his belt.

"Never been more sure about anything," you panted feeling already so shaky and heated that you had seriously problems opening his belt.

"Lemme help you with this," Pedro smirked and reached down to take care of it himself. But once he was done he turned your head a little so your eyes that had previously eagerly stared down to his crotch found his again.

"I just don't want you to feel pressured or anythin'. Don't want you to feel like you have to do it 'cause of me."

"I don't, Pedro. I really want it. You're not gonna make me beg for it, are you?" you whispered cradling his face and softly pressing your lips on his mouth.

"No. I'm not ever gonna make you beg for anything, honey."

You smiled feeling him nibble at your bottom lip and then started to reach down to his jeans again. When your hands brushed over his bulge he inhaled sharply tightening the grip on your waist.

"Baby," he warned you closing his eyes and you saw how his chest rose and fell more rapidly. You completely ignored his words and started to massage his cock through the fabric of his jeans while Pedro seemed to seriously struggle.

"Baby, this is not… this is not really helpful… Lemme prepare you, okay?"

He closed his eyes biting hard down in his lower lip. "Honey. I'm hard enough, I just need you to… need you to come so you're pussy's gonna be ready for me."

You had barely listened to him feeling amazed by the way his dick felt so heavy against your hand but Pedro seemed to be serious about this because he took hold of your wrist removing your hand from his center and pushed you towards the bed. That was the moment when the cloudness of your mind faded a little and you remembered what the two of you were about to do.

Pedro and you had been dating for roughly three months now and had done all sorts of stuff like pleasuring each other with your hands or going down on each other. But you hadn't had sex yet which you intended to change tonight. Pedro was beyond careful and hesitant about it which you couldn't fully understand as you weren't a virgin anymore but the last two weeks you had waited patiently. He had told you that he simply didn't want you to regret it afterwards and make sure that you were ready for it.

Tonight things had been different though because along with the craving to be finally filled by him you had been determined to show him how much you wanted this. At first he had been doubtful again telling you that there was no need to rush but you were persistent. 'If you don't wanna do it, of course that's fine with me. But I do,' you had said and at that point he had wavered. 'Of course I fucking want you. Jesus��� I can't think about anything else.'

And then Pedro had finally kissed you with a new determination and thenthe two of you had ended up where you were right now. Him hovering on top of you his hands everywhere he could reach and your lips slightly parted heavily breathing.

"I can't wait to fuck you, baby, god… I want it so bad. I know you're gonna feel so perfect around me."

Your trembling legs enclosed around his waist to make sure he knew that you wanted it just as much because you were at a point where you were unable to speak up and instead just whined.

"Pedro… please."

"I know, love. Gonna prepare you for me now, alright? Gonna make you come so your pussy's all wet and soft for me and then I'll make you come on my cock. God, I can't believe I get to fuck this pussy…"

Your toes curled anticipating to feel him in that new kind of way so much that you thought about asking him to just immediately fuck you without preparation but then you reminded yourself of the seize of his cock and realized that he was right. It would be a lot, that much you already knew and to make it less painful you had to admit that you should orgasm first.

Pedro lowered his face to your collarbone tenderly kissing your body through your shirt. It didn't stay on long though because soon he pulled it up and over your arms and then carelessly threw it behind him. You didn't wear a bra which Pedro more than welcomed and his mouth immediately got to work with the focus on stimulating your nipples.

If only he would speed up a little, you thought despite appreciating his touch of course. He simply loved to take his time with you, perhaps even to tease you a little and sometimes on days like these when you were looking forward to something so much it could be cruel of him.

"Pedro," you sighed curling your fingers in his locks and desperately rocked your core against his hips. "You said you'd never make me beg for anything."

He chuckled lowly glancing up to you but still didn't make an attempt to make his way further down your body.

"Let's say this is an exception. But you really can't blame me, honey. It's too sweet to hear you like this."

Although his words excited and delighted you there was still a cease between your brows when he continued to graze with his fingers over your perky buds that were hard against his hands. In the meantime his mouth was busy kissing and biting into your flesh leaving wet traces on your skin that provoked an equally messy wetness between your legs. It was the best kind of torment you could possibly imagine and in a strange way you never wanted him to stop just like you wished he would dive between your legs already.

At some point you stopped thinking about what you were waiting for so frustratedly and surrendered to his touch closing your eyes and whining every now and then when he buried his teeth in your skin just a little deeper than was necessary to make you feel him. When he finally started to kiss his way down your body you slightly lifted your head from the cushions blinking a few times and almost felt like you were waking up from a divine dream.

"Pedro," you moaned simply because you wanted to hear his husky voice and smiled when he looked at you.

"Yes, baby. It's alright. You're gonna feel so fucking good."

He had eaten you out quite a few times before and although he had been a dream from the start you had noticed how it seemed like it became even more heavenly with every time, getting to know your body and what you liked better. And he had already started out strong. You considered Pedro a master of arts when it came to going down on you and you remembered clearly how, after he did it for the first time, you had laid sprawled out on the bed staring up to the ceiling while somehow trying to process what had just happened.

No one of your past relationships had been able to make you come all by themselves without the help of your hand and you felt regret thinking about the fact that you had just accepted their underwhelming performances. You hadn't even believed that a man could give you releases like this and now you feared you would never be able to sleep with someone that wasn't him.

Pedro was now on the same height as your pussy that was still covered by your jeans and panties. Fortunately he now went straight to the point opening the button of your pants and then pulling them down in one motion. He smiled at your lacy red underwear which made him suspect that you had planned to do this tonight all along but the tightness in his pants that seemed to worsen at the sight of the red fabric hugging your hips so wonderfully made him think that your plan worked just perfectly.

"Fucking hell, y/n," he growled rubbing with his hand over the lower half of his face. "You don't even know what you're doin' to me."

"I need you. Please don't make me wait any longer."

Pedro scoffed then sinking on his elbows and brushing with his nose over your panties.

"I couldn't possibly, babygirl."

With these words he stuck out his pointed tongue tracing over your slit just as gently and light as a feather. You tried to press your legs together but Pedro prevented it by spreading them with his hands gripping your thighs and then he found your clit through your underwear and started to circle it.

"Smellin' so fucking good, goddamn it."

Despite feeling the urge to throw your head back and simply get lost in his touch you forced yourself to keep your eyes open because the picture of your beautiful boyfriend laying between your legs and eating your pussy with such a dedication was one you wished to carve into your brain for all time. His eyes searched for yours as well and you let out a moan just from this simple interaction.

"Oh fuck…," you whimpered in a high-pitched voice and grabbed his shoulders to get rid of some of the accumulated tension in your body.

Just when you thought that it wouldn't get better and he would make you come in a matter of seconds Pedro swiftly removed the last piece of clothing on your body making you bare beneath him. The fact that he was still completely dressed somehow made everything feel dirtier and more profane and you felt close to crushing under all of these different impressions. You wanted to come so badly and finally melt with him on a new level but you also wanted this to last forever.

He licked his lips running his eyes over your drenched pussy and then looked up to you with flashing eyes.

"Maybe we'll have to delay what you've planned," he mumbled his gaze instantly between your legs again. "Don't think you're gonna be able to separate me from his pretty little cunt any time soon."

Although you were sure he was joking you grasped his muscular arms while simultaneously hitting his stomach with your foot.

"No. I need you to fuck me. Please, you promised."

Pedro chuckled darkly, a noise that gave you goosebumps and sounded almost obscene in a setting like this.

"Don't you worry, darling. You know that I can't wait to shove my cock inside of you. M'just kidding."

You relaxed connecting your back with the mattress again but made sure you were looking down when he licked over your naked pussy for the first time tonight.

He simpy felt… perfect. Warm and wet, a little rough but just the amount that only added to the thrill. And he hit the spots where you needed him the most.

Pedro first went in circles around your clit just as he had done with your underwear on but then he got the hood that covered it out of the way in order to carefully flick it which provoked an animalistic growl in you. You almost felt like crying, so overtaken with the precision of his touch.

He then went over your folds dipping in your hole to taste your arousal and tracing your labias. Pedro was an expert at paying just the right attention to every part of your pussy while keeping the main focus on your clit and you wondered how many women it had taken for him to sleep with to perfect his technique. You didn't even mean this in a bitter or jealous way though because you were thankful for his level of expertise that was currently taking your breath away.

It wasn't a surprise that after a few minutes you already felt close to coming which you almost would've found embarrassing had Pedro not encouraged you so passionately.

"I want you to cum for me, baby. I need to taste it, oh fuck me," he groaned his fingers digging deeper into your flesh which would surely leave marks.

"Yes," you panted your gazes once again meeting in a heated flash and you buckled your hips searching for more of him although it was merely impossible.

"I'm so fuckin' close, Pedro, please. Oh fuck, I – "

You couldn't finish the sentence because the heat washed over you, your eyes rolling back in your head and for a moment you only saw white.

"There you go, darling. Just like that…," he whispered soothingly running his hands over the outside of your thighs.

You forgot everything, your name, the time and even the man between your legs that had just gifted you such a fantastic release but seconds later you landed on your back again, your soul returning to your body, chest heaving rapidly and your tired eyes opened just ever so slightly.

You only now noticed that Pedro hadn't stopped but licked you through your orgasm and was still busy lapping up your wetness which started to feel uncomfortable when he toyed with your overstimulated and throbbing clit again so you gestured him to look at you.

"That was so good, Pedro, fuck. I need you now. Need to feel you inside of me."

Pedro melted away at your words never having felt more eager to do anything in his life because the prospect of feeling you around him and also pleasing you and following what you seemed to need so badly right now made his head cloudy.

"You will. I'll fill you up so well, baby. I'm gonna fuck this pussy just the way she needs it, I promise."

There was definitely no doubt about that, you thought because if he would only be half as good as he was at going down on you you would be utterly satisfied. Pedro crawled up to you again, his broad body caging you entirely and stole a kiss from your swollen lips.

"You wanna do this?" he asked again and although you rolled your eyes at the fact that your whining and begging hadn't seemed to be enough for him to reassure him that you were certain about this your heart fluttered. Never had a man in your life looked out for you like that and you most definitely wouldn't let this man go any time soon.

"Yes. I want it so fucking bad, Pedro and if you won't do it now I'll go and find myself a man who wants to fuck me," you whispered while stroking the side of his face but then his eyes darkened at your words and he grabbed your wrist pinning your hand on the bed next to your head.

"I don't think so, honey," he cooed his thumb caressing your pulse point which was such a simple and yet effective movement.

"Pedro," you moaned every bratiness in you gone and now you felt like a whiny mess again, your brain a mush only able to think about the handsome man on top of you.

Your eyes followed him while he reached to the nightstand and opened the top drawer searching for a condom. When he had picked one up he adjusted himself on top of you again and glared at you with such intensity that you felt the heat rising in your cheeks.

"That's my pussy, babygirl. And I'm the only one who gets to touch or lick or fuck her, is that clear? No one else would be able to treat her as good as I do anyway."

You shuddered at his words looking up to him through half-lidded eyes. Obviously the both of you knew that you hadn't meant these words but the way he reacted to them made your pussy clench around nothing and the familiar throbbing between your legs returned.

"Yes, she's all yours. No one else's. Please Pedro, please do something."

He smirked crookedly while finally opening his jeans and pulling them down along with his boxers. You would've taken a glance down but were too busy opening the buttons of his shirt one by one which turned out to be a challenge as your shaking hands struggled to find the holes.

Pedro was a lot more successful in what he was doing and in a matter of seconds he had opened the condom and pulled it over his hard and leaking cock that looked so delicious you let out a desperate whine when your eyes finally looked down to where your bodies were so dangerously close.

It quite frankly drove Pedro mad and if he hadn't known that he was about to slide into your perfect pussy for the first time he would have shoved his dick right into your mouth. But what awaited him was even better and so he planned on doing that another time, instead gliding his hand between your legs once more, this time finding your quivering hole.

"What are you doing," you whimpered pressing your legs against his wrist between your thighs and almost bit your lip bloody.

"Just openin' you up a little, baby. I don't know if you're used to my size and I don't wanna hurt you. Trust me, honey, alright? I got you and I'm gonna make this a very pleasant experience for you. Just need you to trust me."

You mumbled something that sounded like 'I can take it,' but didn't protest when Pedro inserted a single finger into your vagina slightly curling it up so he hit you with just the right angle.

You weren't a virgin after all so there was no struggling in taking it which was why Pedro soon added a second one which he let you adjust to for a moment but you didn't have any serious problems handling it either.

"That's right…," he whispered against your brow, absolutely taken with the idea of it being his cock instead of his fingers and slowly started to thrust in you.

He scissored you open while his thumb pressed into your clit which was an astonishing combination that didn't fail to bring you close to the edge after an embarrassingly short time. Pedro noticed it but didn't stop so you quickly grabbed his underarm gesturing him to slow down.

"I wanna come with you, please."  

He raised his eyebrows pursing his lips but stopped moving inside of you. "Don't wanna give me one more?"

You swallowed pleading him with your eyes because you were struggling to find an answer yourself. Your body was craving another release but the idea of coming with him simply sounded so good in your mind that you shook your head.

"Please. Please fuck me, Pedro," you whispered and at that point your boyfriend broke.

His eyes sparkled almost looking black from his desire and then he spread your legs wider and aligned his tip with your entrance.

"Relax your muscles, baby. And breathe in."

You followed his words inhaling deeply and then while you breathed the air out he started to push into you. Of course he was bigger than any of your ex boyfriends and you would certainly need a moment to adjust but from the moment his tip had entered you you knew that you were in for a treat. It was just that the two of you fit. You belonged together and melting with him just felt natural and right.

"Oh god…," Pedro growled dropping his chin to his chest and supported himself by resting his hands on either side of your head.

"Jesus fucking christ, baby you feel so… fucking… good."

Only his tip was inside so far but he didn't move any further giving you time to get used to his thickness.

"You feelin' alright?" he asked brushing the sweaty hair out of your face in order to look at you properly.

It definitely burned a little but it was nothing you couldn't handle so you nodded closing your eyes at the mesmerizing feeling of being stretched by him.

"Yes. Shit, it's… so good, Pedro."

"Yeah, baby? Like feeling me inside of you?"

You could nod with your head again and then wrapped your hands around his back your nails deliciously scratching his skin as he went a little deeper.

"Breathe, honey. S'right. Takin' me so goddamn well."

By now the slight pain had entirely vanished and you couldn't wait to get fucked by him so you pulled him closer savouring the way his weight crushed against you and kissed him next to his mouth.

"Fuck me," was all you whispered but he took it as a permission to back out and then thrust inside, still careful not to hurt you but with a lot more intensity that made your eyes roll back.

"Yes, Pedro. Like that, it feels so good," you cried out letting your head fall back into the cushions again and Pedro instantly took advantage of it starting to cover your neck with kisses.

He picked up the pace delivering deep thrusts in your pussy that made you gasp every time he slammed back in and you soon didn't have the power to keep your legs wrapped around his waist anymore so you dropped them to the bed. As a response Pedro parted your legs a little more and the new angle brought yet another kind of intensity.

He gently pressed the palm of his hand on your lower belly while his mouth explored the area next to your ear.

"You feelin' me there, mhm? You feelin' me so deep inside you, darling?"

Your face twisted with pleasure your mouth forming words that you weren't able to vocalise but it only would've been mindless muttering anyway. When his hand traveled between your legs you thought you were going to lose it and clenched the muscles of your thighs as a response to his touch on your clit.

It was a massive variety of impressions each stimulating your senses so overwhelmingly that it was no wonder you could barely communicate with him anymore.

There was the weight of his body on top of you, his mouth leaving open-mouthed kisses on your jaw and neck, his right hand playing with your clit while his left groped your breast and then of course his dick pounding your pussy. It was perfect. All you wanted right now was to freeze this moment and stay buried under him for the rest of your life.

"Agh fuck," you cried out at his fingers carefully pinching your clit and threw your head to the side.

"Need you to give me another one, babygirl. Need to feel you clench around me, c'mon. Know you can do it."

It didn't matter if you could do it or not because right now you felt as if Pedro had all the power in the world over you making you fall apart beneath him. He had you wrapped around his little finger and you were docile to what he was doing to you. That was why after minutes of keeping up this addicting treatment you were driven close to breaking again which you let Pedro know by grasping his hand.

"M'close. M'gonna come, Pedro, please."

Suddenly you felt whiny and helpless almost yearning to be held by him. And your Pedro, your sweet Pedro took notice of course and embraced you in a tight hug pushing your face against his neck while neither his hand on your pussy nor his cock inside of you stopped.

"Yes, honey. I got you… Easy now, I know it's a lot but I got you. Just breathe and listen to my voice."

You whimpered your hand grabbing his nape to press him impossibly closer.

"That's right. C'mon. I know you wanna fall apart 'n you can. I'll catch you, baby."

His voice along with his thumb rubbing over your clit in fast circles was what eventually drove you over the edge and you came hard for the second time tonight. Pedro talked you through it whispering sweet nothings in your ear but then as he felt you clench around him he let out a loud groan as well and followed you closely after.

"Fucking Christ!" he growled gripping your waist tightly and came inside of the condom.

"Oh baby," he moaned lazily delivering a few last sloppy thrusts before slowing down and eventually lying on top of you his cock still buried in you.

"That's it. Oh my lord, that was the best fucking pussy I've ever had," Pedro then whispered his breath still going faster than usual.

"T'was perfect," you agreed letting out a quiet moan when he pulled out of you to take off the condom. Then he rolled off you sprawling out next to you and the both of you sighed staring at the ceiling with tired eyes and aching limbs.

"We should get cleaned, darlin'."

These were the words that you really didn't want to hear right now but Pedro was persistent gently dragging you to sit up.

"Nooo, I just wanna sleep," you complained despite knowing that he was right.

"C'mere," he whispered and took you by your hand as he went into the bathroom where Pedro started by kissing your forehead.

"Sit on the edge of the bathtub," was his next order which you followed but barely were able to hold yourself up as you spread your legs for him.

He resolved to be lenient with you right now well-aware that he was the reason for your exhaustion and decided to take care of you instead of placing the washcloth in your own hand. Pedro drenched it with warm water, got on his knees in front of you and then started to clean the insides of your thighs as well as your fucked-out pussy that was still glistening with your arousal. It almost made him hard again and he thought about the possibility of fucking you again in the morning. Would either of you have to get up early tomorrow? No, he only had a meeting with his agent in the afternoon but the morning the two of you could spend the way you wanted to.

Before Pedro could finish the thought, he was done, carelessly tossing the washcloth to the ground and then leaving the bathroom to get you your favourite cotton pyjamas. Once he had helped you put on both pieces he got dressed as well and then the only thing left to do was hop back into the bed that you fortunately had covered with a big towel protecting the sheets from your body fluids.

Pedro pulled the blanket over both of you and smiled as he immediately felt you crawling towards him to crouch against his upper body.

"You alright?" he purred stroking your messy hair and you felt like bursting with joy.

What a nice add-on that he wasn't just a kind caring and respectful boyfriend that was generous and skilled when it came to going down on you but also turned out to be beyond talented with his cock.

"Yes. More than alright," you replied contently listening to his heartbeat.

"Good."

"What about you?"

Pedro chuckled lowly and you felt the vibrations throughout your whole body.

"I love you, y/n."

That was indeed a good answer and you grabbed his hand trapping it between yours.

"I love you too."

"That's good," he mumbled so close to falling asleep that he didn't know what he was saying anymore.

"Mhm," you made and while precisely listening to his heart you drifted off to sleep both your body and mind at peace.

[arxiwon]

hello! can i request a high school/college au fic (maybe a boarding school like decelis academy) where niki and reader are frenemies/rivals who secretly like each other but are too prideful to admit it? reader then kisses another enhypen member (maybe jake or jungwon?) out of spite at a party, and niki finds out and gets upset, and him and reader fight about it (theyre both stupid😂). happy ending?

Public Enemy (Lover) Number One ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

Pairing: Nishimura Riki | Ni-ki × Reader

Genre: High School AU, Rivals-to-Lovers, Angst, Fluff, Slight Crack

Warnings: Swearing, Petty Jealousy, Lots of Banter, Ni-ki Being an Absolute Menace, Public Kissing

Synopsis:

You and Ni-ki have spent years at Decelis Academy as sworn rivals—constantly at each other’s throats, never missing a chance to one-up the other. Everyone at school knows you hate each other.

Except… maybe you don’t.

Because when a reckless kiss at a party makes Ni-ki snap, it sets off a chain reaction of fights, confessions, and a whole lot of tension neither of you can ignore anymore. And once he finally makes things official? He does it in the most dramatic, smug, and public way possible—just to make sure everyone (especially Jungwon) knows.

After all, if Ni-ki’s gonna claim you as his, he’s gonna make sure the whole world sees. 😏🔥

You weren’t sure when it started—this relentless, exhausting war between you and Riki Nishimura. Maybe it was the first time he beat you on a math exam by one point, smirking like it was the greatest accomplishment of his life. Maybe it was when you outran him during a school race and he spent weeks demanding a rematch. Maybe it was just how the universe worked: two stars caught in each other’s gravity, forced to collide over and over.

But for as long as you could remember, it had been the two of you. Always competing. Always fighting. Always pretending that none of it mattered when it clearly did.

If someone asked, you’d both say you hated each other. And yet, no matter what, your eyes always found him in a crowded room. And his? They were always on you.

Tonight was no different.

Jungwon’s arm draped around your waist as you leaned against the balcony railing, sipping lazily from your drink. The party was loud, music vibrating through the walls of the grand Decelis dormitory, but your mind was somewhere else. Or rather—on someone else.

Ni-ki sat inside, sprawled on a couch, laughing at something the girl beside him said. His eyes hadn’t landed on you once tonight, which was strange. Normally, you’d already be in the middle of some petty argument, or he’d be throwing snide remarks from across the room, waiting for your reaction. But not tonight.

Tonight, he was ignoring you.

You shouldn’t care. You didn’t care.

But the irritation creeping under your skin told you otherwise.

Maybe that’s why you did it.

Maybe it was the frustration, the bitterness, the need to get something out of him.

Or maybe it was just because Jungwon was already standing beside you, already close enough to pull in.

So you kissed him.

You barely had time to process it before it was over, before Jungwon pulled back slightly with a look of mild surprise, before his gaze flickered behind you—

And before you were yanked away.

A strong hand curled around your wrist, tugging you through the party and out onto the empty school grounds. The cool night air hit your skin, but all you could feel was the searing heat of the boy dragging you forward.

“Ni-ki—”

“What the fuck was that?”

His voice was low, tight with anger, his grip on your wrist firm but not enough to hurt. He finally let go, running a hand through his hair as he turned to face you, eyes burning with something unreadable.

You crossed your arms, tilting your head. “What do you mean?”

Ni-ki let out a sharp laugh, completely void of humor. “Don’t play dumb.” His tongue ran over his teeth as he took a step closer. “You kissed Jungwon.”

“And?”

“And?” He looked like he wanted to break something. “Are you actually serious right now?”

Your jaw tightened. “Why do you even care?”

His expression darkened. “Why do I—? You were the one staring at me all night like a kicked puppy.”

You scoffed. “Excuse me?”

Ni-ki exhaled harshly, shaking his head. “This is so fucking stupid.”

“You’re right,” you snapped. “It is stupid. Because you don’t get to sit there with some girl draped all over you and then get mad when I—”

“It’s not the same thing.”

“Oh, it’s not?”

Ni-ki took another step forward. You stood your ground, heart pounding, refusing to back down even when he was this close.

He inhaled sharply, voice quieter this time. “You did it on purpose.”

Your breath hitched.

He was right.

You had.

Ni-ki saw the hesitation flicker across your face and let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

Your fists clenched. “And you’re an asshole.”

Something flashed in his eyes. Frustration, amusement, something dangerous. “Why him?” His voice dropped, rough around the edges.

You swallowed.

Ni-ki tilted his head slightly, gaze locking onto yours, unrelenting. “Why Jungwon?”

You exhaled slowly. “Because he was there.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Ni-ki let out another quiet laugh, but this time, it wasn’t bitter. It was something else. Something darker.

His fingers brushed against your jaw, tilting your chin up just slightly.

“So that’s what it takes?” he murmured. “You wanted my attention that bad?”

Your stomach flipped.

“You’re so full of yourself,” you bit out, but your voice wasn’t nearly as steady as before.

Ni-ki leaned in, lips just a breath away from yours. “Am I?”

The air was thick, suffocating, the tension so palpable it was almost painful. Your pulse roared in your ears as his fingers ghosted over your skin.

Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he asked,

“Do you want me to remind you who you really belong with?”

The last shred of your pride shattered.

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have to.

Because a second later, his lips crashed against yours, and for the first time in your never-ending war, you surrendered.

The kiss ended too fast.

Or maybe it lasted forever.

You weren’t sure anymore, because all you could feel was the rapid thud of your heart and the warmth of Ni-ki’s hands still gripping your waist. He didn’t move away—not really—but his lips hovered just above yours, like he was debating whether to kiss you again.

You hated that you wanted him to.

Ni-ki exhaled slowly, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re not running.”

Your hands curled into the fabric of his shirt, not sure if you wanted to push him away or pull him closer. “Shut up.”

His lips twitched. “You kissed Jungwon just to piss me off.”

Your glare was half-hearted at best. “And?”

Ni-ki smirked. “It worked.”

You swallowed hard, unable to look away. The fire in his eyes was different now—no longer just frustration, no longer just a game of one-upping each other. This was something deeper.

Something real.

The realization sent a wave of panic through you.

You didn’t do this. You didn’t do real.

Not with him.

With a sharp inhale, you shoved him back—just enough to break the suffocating tension. “I need to go.”

You turned on your heel, fully prepared to walk away and pretend none of this happened—

But Ni-ki caught your wrist, pulling you right back into him.

His voice was quiet this time, almost hesitant. “Don’t.”

You froze.

Not because of the way he was holding you—firm but gentle—but because he sounded different. No teasing. No smugness. Just Ni-ki, standing in front of you, raw and unguarded for the first time.

You hated how easily it made your heart ache.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t want to fight anymore.”

You scoffed, trying to ignore the way your stomach flipped at his words. “That’s funny, coming from you.”

Ni-ki chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Yeah, I know.” His expression turned more serious. “But I mean it.”

You looked at him—really looked at him.

And for the first time, you realized he wasn’t just your rival.

He was your constant.

Every day, every fight, every stupid little argument—it had always been him.

Your throat felt tight. “Ni-ki…”

He gave you a lopsided grin, but his grip on your wrist tightened slightly, like he was afraid you’d slip away. “Just admit it.”

You frowned. “Admit what?”

“That you like me.”

Your pulse stopped.

And then Ni-ki laughed—not mocking, not teasing, but soft and knowing. “Because if you don’t, I’m just gonna have to keep proving it to you until you do.”

Your lips parted, but no words came out.

Because, deep down, you already knew.

You had always known.

And when Ni-ki leaned in again—slower this time, letting you decide—you didn’t pull away.

Because for once, there was nothing left to fight about.

The next morning, the halls of Decelis Academy were buzzing.

News traveled fast around here, but apparently, nothing spread faster than rumors of a certain heated argument-turned-makeout session between you and Ni-ki.

You weren’t even halfway to class before Sunoo caught you by the arm, eyes practically glowing with excitement. “Is it true?”

You groaned. “What now?”

“The fight! The kiss! The storming off into the night! Everyone’s talking about it!” Sunoo leaned in conspiratorially. “I mean, we all knew something was going on between you two, but this?” He whistled. “Legendary.”

You rolled your eyes, muttering a curse under your breath. Of course people had seen. Of course Ni-ki hadn’t bothered to deny anything.

You were still debating how to respond when Sunoo’s gaze flickered over your shoulder—and then he grinned.

“Well, speak of the devil.”

A familiar presence appeared beside you, and before you could react, an arm slung itself over your shoulders.

“Morning, babe.”

Your entire body froze.

Did he just—?

Ni-ki smirked down at you, completely unbothered. “What? You’re acting like we didn’t make out last night.”

Sunoo gasped.

“Shut up,” you hissed, trying (and failing) to shove him off.

Ni-ki only chuckled, holding on tighter, making sure everyone in the hallway got a good look. “What? I’m just saying it how it is.”

By now, people were staring. Some whispering. Some outright gawking.

And then—

“Are you serious right now?”

The voice cut through the air like a knife, sharp and incredulous.

Jungwon stood just a few feet away, arms crossed, looking between the two of you like he couldn’t believe his eyes.

Ni-ki’s smirk widened. “Something wrong?”

Jungwon scoffed. “You hate each other.”

Ni-ki hummed thoughtfully. “Mm. I thought so too.” He turned to you, eyes flickering with something smug. “But apparently, I was just blind.”

Your heart stuttered.

Ni-ki leaned in slightly, lips barely brushing your ear. “I see everything now, though.”

Your breath hitched.

Jungwon made a noise of absolute disgust. “You guys are the worst.”

Ni-ki just grinned. “Yeah, yeah, get used to it.”

And then—because he had no shame—he kissed you.

Right there.

In the middle of the hallway.

In front of everyone.

You barely registered the chorus of gasps and shouts around you. Your mind went blank, completely overridden by the feeling of Ni-ki’s lips pressing firmly against yours—possessive, teasing, and undeniably real.

When he finally pulled away, he had the audacity to wink.

“Guess that makes it official.”

You stared at him, still dazed. “You’re unbelievable.”

Ni-ki just grinned. “And you love it.”

[skyguytoast]

𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐀𝐌 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐑𝐎𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄....

warning: some of the headcanons are explict, +18.

a/n: hii again, i guess writing headcanons allow me to pour out my thoughts about this movie, hope you enjoy and if you fell like comment or reblog, this literally makes my day😻😻

• Sam would never openly admit he was in love—not at first. Instead, he’d annoy you just to get a reaction. A poke to your ribs, flicking a paper ball at your head, pulling your hair lightly when you weren’t paying attention. He thrived off of your exasperated looks and playful shoves, convincing himself it was just fun. But deep down, it scared the hell out of him—this thing he was feeling, this pull toward you he couldn’t ignore. • When Sam finally admitted his feelings to himself, he didn’t waste time hiding them from you. No grand gestures, no cheesy romance movie confessions—just raw honesty. One night, while you sat together, he fidgeted with his rings before finally muttering, "I think about you all the time. And I don’t know what to do about it." His voice was quiet, but his eyes held nothing but sincerity. • Your first kiss wasn’t planned—it just happened. You leaned in to kiss his cheek, and at the last second, he turned his head, your lips colliding in an accidental but electric moment. You froze, staring at each other for what felt like forever, before his hand found your face, adjusting the angle—then he kissed you for real, slow and deliberate, as if he was memorizing every second. • Sam never officially asked you to be his girlfriend —he just assumed you were. You liked each other, you spent all your time together, so why did you need labels? But when he noticed how much it would mean to you, he actually tried. He showed up at your place, awkwardly holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers, and grumbled, "So... do you, uh, wanna make this official or something?" • Sam wasn’t big on PDA, but he always made sure you felt his presence. A hand resting on your back, fingers hooked into your belt loops, a casual arm around your waist when he pulled you close. Sitting together, his hand would absentmindedly rest on your thigh, tracing tiny circles with his thumb. It was never too much—just enough to remind you that you were his. • Behind closed doors, though? Sam was needy. He always had to be touching you—arms wrapped around your waist, head resting in your lap, kissing your temple as he pulled you against his chest. At night, he’d curl up behind you, pressing sleepy kisses to the back of your neck before muttering, "You’re stuck with me, you know that?" like some sort of half-assed love confession. • He made you a playlist, and it was the closest thing to a love letter you’d ever get from him. The songs were scrawled onto the back of a CD cover, his handwriting messy but unmistakable. You skimmed the tracklist and smirked. "'Can’t Take My Eyes Off You'?" you teased. "Didn’t take you for a Frankie Valli guy." He shrugged, avoiding eye contact. "You like it, don’t you?" • Even though he’d never say it outright, Sam loved how you listened to him. When he rambled about obscure bands, the evolution of punk, or why a specific 1979 guitar riff was way better than its 1980s version, you actually listened. You asked questions, nodded at the right moments, and even remembered random facts he told you weeks ago. It made something in his chest go tight. • You had a habit of stealing his sweatshirts and t-shirts, and even though he grumbled, he secretly loved it. Seeing you in his oversized hoodie, drowning in his scent, made something primal in him soften. One day, he crossed his arms and smirked, "So, uh… think I could borrow my sweatshirt back? Or are you just gonna take over my whole closet?" • Sam wasn’t the type to talk about the future, but in quiet moments, he let it slip. Like when you were sprawled across his bed, talking about nothing, and he absentmindedly murmured, "You know, I’d go anywhere with you." Or when he pressed a kiss to your forehead and whispered, "I don’t know how you put up with me, but I hope you never stop." Because even if he didn’t say the words I love you all the time, you felt it in every little thing he did.

+𝟏𝟖 (𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒)

• You were Sam's first time. Before you, he had only known the fleeting pleasure of his own hand and imagination. He had touched himself countless times, stroking his hardening cock until thick ropes of cum painted his stomach. But nothing could have prepared him for the ethereal, overwhelming sensation of being inside your tight, wet heat. Your body was his new temple, and he wanted to worship every inch of it. With each thrust, each deep stroke, Sam felt a primal connection, a claiming that transcended the physical. You were his now, in a way he had never belonged to anyone before.

• Sam whines and whimper whenever you give him a blowjob. When your luscious lips wrap around the head of his cock, Sam is helpless to keep quiet. Guttural moans and whimpers tear from his throat, his back arching off the bed as he fists the sheets for support. Tears of overwhelming sensation prick the corners of his eyes, his vision blurring as you take him deeper, your nose pressing against his pelvis. The wet heat of your mouth, the flick of your tongue, the gentle suction - it's all too much, yet not enough. Sam's balls tighten, his cock pulsing and throbbing against your tongue as he fights the urge to thrust into your mouth, to fuck your face until he paints your throat with his release.

• Sam adores being at the mercy of your desires, in the delicious agony of giving up control. He loves the feeling of your body moving above him, your breasts bouncing hypnotically as you ride him with wild abandon. The sight of you taking your pleasure from him, using him for your own satisfaction, is the ultimate turn-on. Sam's hands roam your body, squeezing the globes of your ass, thumbing your nipples, mapping every dip and curve. He wants to learn you by touch alone, to commit your body to memory. As you chase your orgasm, Sam loses himself in the erotic dance of your coupling, drunk on the sensation of being so deeply, thoroughly fucked.

• But Sam also knows how to take charge when you need him to, to give you what you crave. He pins your wrists above your head, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he holds you down, immobilizing you completely. His hips snap forward, driving into you with a force that rocks the bed and shakes the headboard against the wall. The room fills with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, of your desperate moans and his whining grunts. Sam's blue eyes darken with lust and possession, his gaze boring into yours as he marks your body with his touch, his teeth, his cock.

• In the missionary position, Sam braces himself above you, his arms trembling with the effort of holding back, wanting to prolong the moment. As he feels his climax approaching, Sam buries his face between your perfect breasts, motorboating your cleavage and breathing in your intoxicating scent. He nips and sucks at the sensitive skin, determined to mark you as his. As his orgasm builds, Sam's grip on your hips tightens, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh, no doubt leaving bruises behind. With a whimper that's part pleasure, part pain, Sam hilts inside you one last time as he comes, his cock pulsing and jerking, flooding your womb with his hot, thick seed. His face remains buried in your cleavage as his body shaking with the force of his release. In that moment, Sam knows he would do anything, anything at all, to keep you by his side, to hold onto this feeling of utter completion and belonging. You are his, and he is yours, and nothing will ever tear you apart.

[hedwig221b]

You have any pregnant stiles not related to ABO fic recs? Your fic where Stiles runs away to the cabin for magic training got me craving!!!

Sure! Stereks do love pregnant Stiles lmao, with or without abo. Here are some:

Walking the Path of Intimacy by Moit

A supposedly routine migraine leads Stiles to discover that he's pregnant with Derek's child, a situation he did not know was possible. Now he's got to tell the rest of his pack (not to mention his father) but how will they react? How will Derek take the news? Featuring pregnant!Stiles with weird food cravings and a pack that is trying their best to accommodate their Alpha's mate.

Karma Is A Bitch by Brego_Mellon_Nin

Ironically, Stiles was just returning to his dorm after failed negotiations about a possible adoption agreement with a local pack, when he saw the fairy. She was cornered and he was unable to curb his protective instincts. The fight was short and Stiles was left with only a blooming bruise on his jaw when the bullies scurried away. As a thank you, the fairy wanted to grant him a wish. Who knew what a bit of fairy fertility magic could do?

You'll Grow Into Your Skin by crossroadswrite

“So funny story,” Stiles winces, “Remember when I joked you couldn’t get me pregnant?” Derek nods his head. He remembers pretty much everything from that day. “Right,” Stiles bobs his head, stops himself and does a little ta-da gesture towards Jacy, “Surprise?”

Things We Lost by Dexterous_Sinistrous

“Who … who am I to wed?” A small flash of guilt covered the king’s features before he was able to recover. “Your union will join the royal families—joining our family to the Hales.” Dread and sorrow sunk in Stiles’ stomach as he closed his eyes. There was only one Hale left unharmed by the great fire that nearly wiped out the entire royal family—the Dread Wolf of Triskelia, Crowned King Derek Hale.

and the wild things roared their terrible roar by hoars

Derek as Khal Drogo (but set in snow beyond the wall) and Stiles as Daenerys Stormborn (although he's a greenseer of the Children rather than a dragon).

Hot Pocket Ratio by ShippersList

At the threat of the alpha pack, all Derek wants is to keep his pack safe and alive. As the last resort, he tries summoning a demon to help with fighting the alpha pack. He gets a bit more than he bargained for. Or, the story where the classic demon deal of "Will you pledge your firstborn to me?" takes some unexpected turns.

You'll Be Mine and I'll Be Yours by tearsandholdme

"Oh my god!” Stiles hissed, his back colliding with the door. “Oh my god! I slept with my boss, oh my god. I'm a walking cliché!” It was supposed to be a one night stand. No complications, no feelings, no baggage. But then a missed doctor's appointment in his childhood comes back to haunt him and Stiles is left with a lot more than one very good night.

An Alpha's Misunderstandings by Dexterous_Sinistrous

And Derek was there, as if it was a simple twist of fate. There were so many ways Stiles wanted to forgive Derek, but then he came to his senses. He wouldn’t risk Charlotte’s safety for that hope–never again. ~*~ Stiles and Derek are parted by war and misunderstandings, only to find each other again.

Stiles, the Kink Enabler by halcyon1993

Stiles begins to suspect that Derek has a breeding kink.

Shifts by gryvon

Stiles has what he's always secretly wanted - he's in a relationship with Derek and he's one of Derek's betas - but all that gets turned upside down when Gerard kidnaps him and his unexpected baby.

Long Overdue by tangowhiskey

Stiles is pregnant with Derek's pups. However, he's now overdue, making him tired and irritable. He wants nothing more than for Derek to have sex with him in the hope that it will induce labour. Derek may or may not love the idea.

Puppy Love by Pookaseraph

Things Stiles wished people had told him before he'd become the mate of an Alpha werewolf: gender was no barrier to having kids with an Alpha werewolf.

Stay with me by Beautiful_noise

Derek gets a glimpse of the future in which Stiles has two biological daughters and that's how he knows he and Stiles are going to break up.

Last To Know by Never_Says_Die

Kink meme fill in which every werewolf and shapeshifter in Beacon Hills is aware that Stiles is pregnant before he is. And apparently the first baby!werewolf being born into the pack (their Alpha's, no less) is a big freakin' deal and excuse enough for everyone to lose their damn minds. When Stiles figures out why everyone's been acting so weird around him, he's not amused.

Predators

He was born for this. Nature itself whispered into his ear where he should put his hands, how to twirl his tongue just right and when to bite. Stiles knew well enough that his saliva was currently working its magic on this unfortunate man, making him hungry, lustful, and insatiable. Soon, all his thoughts would be consumed by Stiles. And, just this once, Stiles would allow Derek to consume him.

aaand the fic the anon mentioned:

Sunshine

"Don’t you want to show them all what you’re capable of? Prove that Talia's been wrong about you the entire time? Force her to eat her own shit?” Stiles stared at Peter with a lodge in his throat. He wanted it. Of course, he did. He imagined himself standing in front of Talia’s sour self, and pushing fucking fireworks out of his hands, growing trees and crumbling mountains just to prove her wrong. But even more than that, to show her that Stiles was able to give Derek everything she hoped her son to have. Stiles did that. And… he had another big fucking thing on the way. But, as he learned, life wasn't a fairytale.

Other fic recs: angsty fics | possessive Derek | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | smut | mafia | hurt/comfort | magical!Stiles | Stiles gets kicked out of the pack | BAMF!Stiles | omegaverse | witch!Stiles | creature!Stiles | bad friend Scott | pack mom!Stiles | unrequited love | werewolf!Stiles | dark sterek | single parent!Stiles | feral Derek | arranged marriage | Stiles is underestimated