#veron x reader

[mingtinys]

" i am so proud of you "

pairing : hansol chwe x gn!reader

"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"

warnings : language

word count : 0.6 k

a/n : got a little carried away with this one , something about writing for vernon is just so fun

"I was thinking, why don't we go out tomorrow to that restaurant you really like? To celebrate and all."

"I'd really like that." You call back, glancing over at your boyfriend who is still busy washing dishes at the kitchen sink. Though he isn't looking directly at you, you can just make out the excited look in his eyes and the toothy grin gracing his lips. He's been like that since you told him about your promotion at work. Honestly, you didn't expect him to make such a fuss over it. It was a relatively small promotion, just a raise and a slightly higher title. But that sunny expression on his face could make someone think you'd hit CEO status.

"I'll make reservations after I finish up here." His words are barely audible over the running water. You're about to thank him when your phone buzzes to life beside you.

Incoming call from Boo Seungkwan.

Seungkwan? You think, narrowing your eyes at the screen. Why on earth could he be calling you and not Hansol?

"Hello?"

"Y/N!" His excited voice comes through the speaker. "You're not busy right?"

"Not really, no. Why, what's up?"

"I— well we all wanted to call and congratulate you on your promotion!" A chorus of voices flood your phone and you take it you're on speaker with the rest of the members.

"That's very sweet of you all, thank you." It's nice, having so many people in your corner cheering you on. "But how'd you know? I only just found out about it a couple hours ago."

"You're joking right?" It sounds like Chan. "Hansol won't shut up about it in the group chat."

"He talks about me?" You ask no one in particular

"Yeah, like an annoying amount." That's definitely Mingyu.

There's a short altercation on the other side of the call, probably Seungkwan trying to wrestle his phone back from various members. But you don't pay much mind, the warm feeling in your chest taking over all other senses. You let your gaze drift back to Hansol, who is now on his laptop, nodding along to whatever song is currently playing in his head.

"Just, give it here—! Sorry about that," Seungkwan's voice jolts you from a daze. "Anyways, we just wanted to give you our compliments. We'll let you get back to your night."

Good, because tears are already welling up at your lashes and you're not sure how much longer you can hold back the stitch in your throat. "I appreciate it, tell everyone I said thank you."

You hang up before Seungkwan can respond and promptly make your way to the kitchen. Hansol's nose is still buried in his laptop, eyes squinted as his fingers peck at the keys. "Okay," He says upon the realization of your presence. He hits the enter key rather dramatically. "Reservations are made and you're . . ." His words teeter off when he looks up, met with your tear-filled gaze.

He takes a beat. Brows furrowed and head cocked to the side. "–You're crying. Shit, wait— why are you crying?" Hansol panics. He rushes to you, taking your face between his warm hands. Holding you the way one would hold fine China. Carefully, his thumb comes to swipe a stray tear from your cheek.

"You tell your members about me?" You sniffle. Hansol's eyes go wide and his mouth opens and closes like a fish before he conjures up an answer. "Was I not supposed to?"

The pure concerned cluelessness in his voice makes you giggle and he seems to relax when he realizes he's not in trouble. "I just didn't know you bragged about me like that, it's sweet."

"I am so proud of you,"  Hansol speaks with unashamed sincerity. "Why wouldn't I brag about your accomplishments?"

taglist: @matchahyuck @dontwannaexsist @minnieminshi @myfavoritedelusion @tanya596carat

[vaya-writes]

Infernal Assistance (Option Four) - 2

You’ve been struggling to survive in a zombie apocalypse. Things are looking really bad before a demon swoops in to help. But that demon is an incubus. And he’s in need of help too.

-

Reader (GNC pronouns, AFAB, asexual spectrum) x incubus (cis male). Situationship. Allies to lovers. Zombie apocalypse AU. Banner by saradika-graphics. Wordcount: 2300.

Content Warnings: apocalypse setting, discussion and mild depiction of malnourishment, light discussion of sex, off screen implied violence and gore.

Masterlist - A03 - Previous

You might have felt self conscious inviting a strange demon into your cramped little apartment, if you weren’t so hungry. 

Gesturing him in behind you, you don’t even spare him a glance as you make a beeline to your pantry. There’s an open packet of crackers inside, a tupperware container of oats, and four small tins of assorted vegetables left.  

You don’t touch the crackers. Even stale, they can be eaten. You decide on a tin of beans today. If the fridge still worked you could ration out perhaps six meals from the tin (a bite and a half, three times a day, for two days). But you don’t want to get food poisoning on top of everything. So you’d consume the whole tin over the course of twenty four hours. Today’s lunch and dinner, and tomorrow’s breakfast. Three full bites per meal. Approximately.  

Your hands shake as you remove the pull-lid from the tin. You’re careful not to spill a drop of bean juice, bringing the rim to your lips and drinking. Your stomach clenches at the flavour and you take your time eating. You don’t know how long somebody has to forgo eating before reintroduction of foods becomes difficult. 

You make sure to chew each bean, even as you grimace at the flavour; they’re not something you enjoy eating by themselves. And when a third of the food is gone, you pull out your makeshift foil lid and fasten it over the tin. You put the food back in the pantry. 

“Food’s scarce for you too, huh?” Your guest speaks. 

You don’t reply for a minute. Your hands are still shaking. You’d like to go and lie down. To sleep off the rest of this awful day. But there’s still an important conversation to be had. So you take a deep breath and turn to face the demon. 

“Are you going to stay?” 

The demon stills for a moment. Perhaps surprised by your bluntness. Before relaxing. Gesturing to the couch.  

You sit, your knees drawn up to create a barrier between you and the demon when he perches on the other end of the couch. He’s massive, and takes up most of the available space. 

“You’ll let me feed on you?” 

You’ve already come to terms with that. If the incubus stays, you’ll have to keep him fed. But there’s no point in keeping him around just to watch you starve. He’ll need to earn his keep. And today, you negotiate how. 

“If you help me in turn.” 

He seems to sense your seriousness, and pivots to properly face you. “What do you need?” 

“For starters? Protection. From zombies. Thieves. Any other external threats.” 

He nods. “Simple enough. What else?” 

“I’ll need supplies. Food. Water. Potentially medicine. I’m willing to scavenge, but not alone.” 

Something in his face twitches. An expression masked. But he nods again. “I can play bodyguard. That all?” 

You consider your plan for the future. What you would have done, ideally, if you were braver. If there were less zombies in your building. If you were desperate. Or reckless.  

“Last request. I want you to head to ground floor and pick up the keys to the other apartments. A master key if you can find one. And then I want help clearing the zombies from them.” 

The demon crosses his arms. There’s that twitch in his face again, before he bites his lip. “This is a big building.” 

“And I’d like to clear it. One floor at a time. It’ll be the safest way to scavenge too.” 

“The husks might come back upstairs when we rest.” 

“We’ll build barricades.” 

He narrows his eyes. “You’ve thought this through.” 

“I’ve had little else to do.” 

There’s silence for a moment. You think he’s considering. But you keep talking. “Originally, I would have had to do this to open apartments only. But if they’re open, it’s probably for a bad reason. I doubt they’d be safe. If you get those keys for me, I can be more thorough, we won’t have to travel as far, I could create safe rooms on multiple floors... There’s a lot of advantages to bringing the whole building under our control.” 

He tilts his head. “You were planning to do this all along?” 

“No. Maybe. There was an even spread before. A zombie or two on each floor. It seemed more doable.” 

“Before you went and caused a horde.” 

You scowl. “I did no such thing. Somebody else entered the stairwell that day. Started screaming their head off.” 

He stares. It makes you a little uncomfortable the way he examines you, seemingly mulling over your request. Before finally, he shrugs. 

“I’ll help. But I won’t be of any use if I’m weak. We should discuss payment.” 

You can appreciate his bluntness. Even if the topic makes you uncomfortable.  

“I assume you mean sex.” 

“Or sexual acts, yes.” 

It’s hard to meet his gaze. You stare at his coat instead. “How often do you need to..?” 

His hesitation is slight, but you do notice it. 

“Once every day.” 

You try not to frown. Glance at his face. “I don’t know much about this sort of thing, but is that safe?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You’ll be taking my energy, right? I’m already malnourished. Is it medically safe for you to feed on me that often?” 

His hesitation is more prominent this time. He lets out a sigh. “You’re right, it’s not ideal.” 

You don’t know how to reply to that. Just wait for him to continue. 

“I’ll be careful not to take much. We can play it by ear. Skip a day every now and then, if you need one.” 

You nod. Things are making sense, but you still have questions. 

“What do you need me to do?” 

“What would you like to do,” his reply is almost instantaneous, a hint of suggestiveness slipping into his tone. 

You try not to wince, but he spots your reaction.  

“What?” 

You shake your head. You don’t want to discuss your sexual preferences with a stranger right now. “Can we get into that later? I just want to know what’s expected. Or needed. I don’t mean to... insult you, I guess, but what is the minimum?” 

He stares for another moment. An indecipherable expression on his face while he, you assume, tries to read you.  

He tilts his head and shrugs, that suggestiveness gone. “I feed on your pleasure. If I were healthy and well fed, the absolute minimum would be sitting in the room next to you while you wank. But to start with, I’m going to need a lot more than that. You’re not the only one who’s malnourished.” 

“Do I need to get off?” 

Another long stare. It’s an effort to not feel judged, but he’s entirely professional when he replies.  

“Is that something you struggle with?” 

You really don’t want to have this conversation with a stranger. But if you’re going to be living with him, relying on him... you should probably be honest. Secrets and dishonesty don’t make for a firm foundation in a relationship.  

Not to mention, he’ll probably notice when you struggle. There’s no point in hiding it. 

But you can’t meet his eyes when you nod. 

He sighs. 

At the noise you can’t help but stiffen. Your jaw locks and you stare intently at a spot on the ground. 

This is usually a point of contention in any sexual relationship you have. That and your inconsistent sex drive. You wouldn’t be surprised if the demon were exasperated. Angry.  If his next words invalidate you, or if he’s going to act like being an incubus will magically fix your sexual woes.  

“What’s your name, pet?” 

You’re taken aback at the gentleness to his tone. It takes a moment before you can find your voice and tell him. 

“Charmed. You can call me Veron.” He offers his hand to shake, brevity lifting the tension for a moment when you take it. 

But his smile soon disappears as he sits back and looks serious. Addresses you by your name, before, “I’ll take what you can give me. An orgasm is like a solid meal, but as you know, it’s possible to survive on scraps. It will just take longer to get me up to full strength.” 

You swallow. Nod again.  

“There anything else you think I should know?” 

You shrug. You’re feeling pretty done with this conversation. Eye contact is getting harder. Conjuring up full sentences feels monumental. “Maybe. Probably. Nothing that’s a deal breaker, I don’t think.” 

He offers another smile, uses a casual tone. “You don’t prefer women?” 

“Uh-” 

“No particular revulsion towards demons or monsters?” 

You shake your head. “No strong preference. To either point.” 

He smiles a little more cheerfully. “Great! We can go over limits and boundaries and wants later if you like. But for now, would you say we have a deal?” 

You take a breath. “Yeah.” 

His smile stretches wider, and he places his hand over his chest. “I’ll keep you safe, scavenge with you, and help you clear this building. In return, you’ll feed me once each day, unless it becomes medically unsafe for you to do so. Yes?” 

You shake his outstretched hand once more. “Yes." 

“Then it’s a deal.” 

- 

You give Veron a brief tour of the apartment. The bathroom. The open plan living area/kitchen/lounge.  You show him the reservoir in the bathtub and teach him your water usage rules. The water stopped running when the power was cut. Since then, you've had to dole out your reservoir using a measuring cup whenever you need to do hand washing, or your occasional sponge bath.  

You don’t know how the zombie virus is transmitted, so you’ve been hesitant to drink any of the tap water. Instead, you rely on your store-bought reserves. You’d been down to a single bottle when you’d set up catchment on the roof.  

Veron surprises and absolutely thrills you with his display of prestidigitation. A snap of his fingers and the blood and viscera coating him disappears. Another snap and your layers of sweat and dust and grime vanish into the ether.  

Knowing that he’s capable of basic magic and needs only energy to fuel it is a weight off your mind. If anything, it’s more motivation to keep the demon fed. 

You offer him the couch as a bed. You don’t actually know if demons need to sleep. Some do – dreamers for instance. But aside from the sex stuff, you’ve no clue about the physiology of concubi.  

Lastly you take down the evacuation poster. Show him the map of the building. There are some amenities on the first floor, along with a maintenance room. The remaining six are dedicated to housing. One stairwell snakes up the side of the building, an elevator shaft sits at the other end, and hanging down the outside is a rickety and broken fire escape. 

You don’t know if the spare keys are kept on site, but if you’re lucky there might be copies somewhere. Checking the pockets of the local dead might be another option to find some. 

Veron process this information, and with a glance towards the window stands.  

“Okay. Today I’ll search the first floor. And make sure none of the husks in the stairwell will get back up.” 

You don’t want to dwell on what he means by that. You hadn’t realised that there were surviving zombies on the stairs. But you walk him to the door and wish him luck regardless. And then you’re left alone. 

- 

The sun has dipped well beyond the horizon when Veron returns. It’s dark and you have to light a candle before you open the door. He’s covered in sweat and blood, looking quite disgruntled; face set in a scowl.  

“You alright?” 

“Fine,” he grumbles, snapping away any blood splatter before stepping into your apartment. 

His posture is tense, and his jaw is set. It's obvious he’s in a bad mood. 

“Did something happen?” 

He reaches into his coat and pulls out a handful of keys, dropping them onto the counter with a sneered irreverence. “These were a pain to collect.” 

“Oh?” 

He shakes his head. “Don’t ask. I’ll just get mad.” 

You’re not one hundred percent, but you’re pretty sure he’s not directly mad at you. It’s a relief, and you’re able to crack a smile. “Got it. Thanks for this.” 

He waves the comment off, before rolling his shoulders. Gradually losing some of his stiffness. “What now?” 

You hold up your candle. “I’d like to save these for emergencies. And it’s too dark for me to see. So, I’m going to turn in for the night. I’ve made the couch up for you. I don’t know if you sleep or whatever but...” you trail off.  

He glances at the couch, at the blanket and cushions you’ve set out, and nods. “Sure. I’ll just... be here then. Until tomorrow.” 

You conjure up a polite smile. “Until tomorrow.”  

You put the candle out before heading to your room. Briefly wonder if you should lock your door before doing so. Sure, he could probably break it down if really wanted. But it puts your mind at ease.  

You let out a groan as you sink into your bed. Your back fucking hurts. It’s so good to be on a mattress, using a pillow. Enough so that even with all the trepidation, all the anxiety circling your thoughts, you’re soon out like a light. 

-

Next

[janedoecreations]

The Victim: "I HATE YOU!"

Carter Verone: "..." Gives coffee to the victim.

The Victim: "I love you."

Carter Verone: "I don't have enough cocaine in the world for this bullshit behavior."

[k2ntoss]

JASON TODD - 10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU

before dying jason was all about being a young loverboy, he is all giddy and does not think before slipping cute love notes into your notebooks when you're not on your seat BUUUT after he dies and comes back he finds it a little harder to really trust anyone, that comes out as everybody saying weird bs about him and picturing jay as a violent dangerous guy (pookie is just feeling silly) but when he gets paid to invite you on a date or taking you to prom he finds the perfect chance to act out on every single thing he has thought of to show you how much he likes you; he reads you certain parts of his favorite books, goes to the concerts you go just to see how much you enjoy yourself and yes, he does that big ass cheesy show of singing to you in front of everyone, big scary guy has a heart of gold and he spends his time with you just bc he likes you, after everything he does buys you that guitar you liked (or anything you've showed interest into).

DICK GRAYSON - SHE'S ALL THAT

yeah, ofc dick is a player and he does bet he can make you into anyone's dream girl and prom queen and ofc he does everything he can to get your attention even when you reject him. he's gonna use his charm and influence (girlboss, gaslight, gatekeep) anyone in order to win you over or to be able to take you out on a date so yes, soccer team will be cleaning your house on saturday just so you can go to a party with him and yes, he bought you a pretty nice dress and brought someone to do your hair and makeup and FOR SURE he is drooling all over the floor when you come out all pretty. he is 100 going to save you when he finds out some other asshole is trying to get their way with you bc he may be a player but he likes you A LOT.

i've been watching a lot of old romcoms lately so i'd like to bring to you: jason is "10 things i hate about you" and dick is "she's all that"

[misotsukiiyeooo]

“Are you mad at me?”

Pairing: Chwe Vernon x F! reader

A/N: Hope you enjoy!

Genre: Angst + Fluff

Word count: 4.3k

Synopsis: Vernon couldn't tell that you were upset until hours later. So he attempts to make up for it.

Still upset with the fact that Vernon completely ignored you while you were talking to him. You decide to be a bit distant with him, petty you thought but you were still pretty upset.

"Babe, do you want to go outside with me? I'm going to the store." He peaks his head through the door viewing you lying on the bed, scrolling through your phone, not even looking at him you respond. "No, I'm alright." You state barely audible. He brushes it off and goes out. Time passes and you're sitting on the couch, away from him and you can't believe he still hasn't noticed your attitude towards him. Making you even more upset you get off the couch, mid-movie walking to the room, and slamming the door softly. An hour passes meaning the movie's over, Vernon walks into the bedroom, observing your body, facing the wall while you once again scroll through your phone. He raises an eyebrow, usually, you'd turn around and practically jump on him. But since yesterday you've been acting distant with him. Getting under the covers, resting his head on the pillow he bites his lip, nervously he looks over to your back. "Are you mad at me..?" Seeing you turn off your phone and make an excuse made his heart drop. "I'm tired." You pretend to go to sleep while Veron's now fidgeting with his fingers. "Oh alright..." He looks at your back for a couple more seconds before attempting to sleep himself.

The sun kissing your face wakes you up only to see the other side of the bed cold and empty. 'Way to make me grumpy in the morning' you thought. Getting out of bed walking to the bathroom only to see a pink post-it note on the mirror. Vernon's handwriting, you take the note reading it. "I had to go help Seungkwan out at his house, can you buy some more snacks for when I come back home?" Scoffing, you crumble the paper and throw it out.

Next thing you know, You're at the store getting his snacks. 'Why do I do these things to myself' You grunt filling up the basket with chips and candies. Driving home, you call Joshua, your therapist. "Hey, Y/n! What's up?" He answers jolly per usual. After ranting about Vernon you hear him hum. "Do you think he knows what he's done?" "No.." you know where this is going. "So then don't you think you should tell him? You know Vernon better than anyone, he won't know unless you tell him." You secretly knew all along however, it would've been nice if he at least acknowledged he was in the wrong. you huff, "You're right...like always. I'll tell him about it when I get home. Thanks, Shua." "Anytime, Y/n." You hang up, time to talk to Vernon. Sighing at the thought.

Walking into the house, eyes widening upon seeing Vernon hold a bouquet of your favorite flower and cute squishmellow. He bites his lips nervously. "Listen, I'm not exactly sure what I did...I sound like a fucked up boyfriend not paying to their girlfriend, but trust me I noticed you were upset. Probably a bit late but if you could explain to me what I've done wrong, I would never, ever do it again.." He emphasizes the 'ever'.

His nervousness turns into a worried expression after seeing you cry like a child. "Did I say something wrong?.." He attempts to approach you but stops himself mid-way. "Vernon, I-" You try to talk all choked up. "Vernon, I'm sorry, I should've talked about it with you instead of acting out of character...Now thinking about it, it was so stupid." He hugs you. "Tell me, if it upsetted you that much, I should know so I won't do it again." Calming down you mumble into his chest. "Well, I was trying to talk to you three days ago on the couch and you completely ignored me...I was pretty excited to talk about it but you didn't respond at all." You finally let out. "Oh my...Babe, I'm sorry but I'd never just ignore you for no reason. I had my AirPods in...I didn't realize they were that loud in my ear." You look up at him. "Are you telling the truth?" He chuckles and nods. "Great, now I've made a fool out of myself." Sinking your face into the crook of his neck he giggles. "I can't believe you actually thought I would ever ignore you. But still, I apologize for having my AirPods too loud in my ears. I won't do it again." Now chuckling, he wipes your tears. "Am I forgiven?" Admiring your face he picks back up the bouquet and squishmellow smiling. Grabbing his cheeks, tiptoeing, you kiss him. "Of course you are, Mr.Headphones."

Reqs are open!

Taglist!!

[sweetbonniebel]

Jaes's hen jēdar

God's of the sky

five

Daemon x reader, Rhaenyra x reader (platonic), Qoren Martell x reader

Masterlist <-previous , next->

110 AC King's Landing

You noticed Rhaenyra sitting on her balcony a book in her lap. You smiled and took a seat next to the silver haired girl.

"Rhaenyra" You smiled and the heir snapped her head from the tome.

"Is there something you need?" She asked

"Can't I visit my favourite niece?" You laughed and Rhaenyra chuckled. "I actually came to propose expanding your own court."

The realm's delight raised her eyebrows a curious expression etched on her Valyrian features.

"In what way?"

"As the heir to the iron throne you should build your own court. Invite the daughters of powerful lords to serve as your ladies in waiting or companions. They will secure loyalties of the great houses." You explained

"And who do you propose? I know you already have a list of candidates, their flaws and strengths memorised." She jested and you laughed, it was true your spies have told you everything you need.

"Lord Maths Tyrell has a sister, Elinor Tyrell. Lynara Stark the cousin of Lord Rickon. Your mother's half sister Elys has two daughters perhaps we could invite the three of them I know that they have been quite close as children." Rhaenyra visibly saddened at the mention of her late mother "Borros Baratheon has five daughters I would invite the oldest Cassandra and the youngest Floris, I know you hold disdain towards the Lannisters but they are rich in gold the crown does not posses. Lord Tymond has only one daughter Jocasta she is only nine years of age nonetheless we have to have a ward for the south. The Tullys do not have daughter but we could invite their vassals like house Blackwood, Mallister and Mooton. Lord Veron Greyjoy has twin daughters Lanna and Margot, I think it would be unfair if we separate them" Rhaenyra nodded approvingly.

"And what of the minor houses?" She asked

"I have already sent word to the minor houses with the invite to kings landing, their daughters will serve you and their sons have been offered squire positions of famous knights." You said, the responses have not yet arrived but you knew all of them would be positive. They could not refuse the crown.

"That is good and you know all of these people?" She mused and you nodded.

"Not personally, but whatever my spiders hear I hear." You said and Rhaenyra chuckled. "I shall write to the houses in your steed you will have to seal the letters... Rhaenyra?"

"Yes?"

"I wish to take Aegon with me to Sunspear to be fostered."

"Do you think that Alicent and Otto will agree?" She asked.

"It does not matter if they agree or not. If Viserys agrees the matter is settled."

Rhaenyra nodded playing with the rings on the fingers.

"While on the subject of family I thought that we could pay a visit to the Velaryon's to mend the rift between our two Valyrian houses."

"Rhaenys hates me..." The realms delight whispered.

"She does not hate you, Rhaenys is... conflicted. The realm refused to crown her as heir but she watched as you accomplished what she could not." You liked the dark haired woman, she was strong yet kind. Despite the loss of her inheritance she remained proud and important at court. "Befriending Rhaenys could also provide support from the Baratheons. They posses Valyrian blood and have been our allies since Aegon the Conqueror." 

"Shall we send word to Driftmark to prepare for our arrival?" Rhaenyra asked, a small smile on her lips, you nodded approvingly.

...

The dragon keepers prepared the bronze fury and the golden lady for travel. The two dragons got on exceptionally well, unusual for their species.

"Dohaeragon Vermithor." One of the elder dragon keepers said, y/n noticing the scene interrupted with anger bubbling in her insides. (Serve)

"Zaldrīzoti gaomagon daor dohaeragon" y/n raised her voice, she ran up to her steed dismissing the dragon keepers. Rhaenyra chuckled and mounted her own dragon, Syrax roared happily. (Dragons do not serve.)

"Ivestragī's sōvegon ñuha raqiros" y/n said atop her steed. Vermithor roared and straightened his wings. The bronze fury took off along the golden lady. (Let's fly my friend.)

...

Driftmark is an island in black water bay, the seat of house Velaryon. Next to Drfitmark was Dragonstone, the ancestral seat of House Targaryen. The two Valyrian houses always were close.

Vermithor and Syrax flew alongside each other, the endless teal sea stretching under them. A comforting breeze caressed your cheeks, you could smell the salt in the air and see the mountains of Driftmark in the distance.

Banners of a silver seahorse on sea green background stood proudly at the entrance of castle Driftmark. You and Rhaenyra walked confidently towards the gates, your dragons circling the island flying towards Meleys, Seasmoke and Vhagar.

"Cousin!" You said happily walking towards the black haired woman, she smiled slightly hugging your form. "It is so good to see you."

"Princess Rhaenyra." Rhaenys spoke eyeing the girl. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence."

"Princess Rhaenys." Rhaenyra stared "We have come here to offer a truce."

"A truce?" Rhaenys questioned, hiding her curiosity. She invited the two princesses towards the main hall of castle Driftmark. A servant placed pies, cakes and other dishes along with wine.

"We have never been close..." The heir begun "And I'd like to change that. I know that you feel stripped of your inheritance, but you can't change history. I think that we could help each other."

"With what could you possibly help me?" The older woman asked, she glanced at the servants standing near the walls of the chambers. "Leave us." She ordered

"Cousin you see what happens at court." You said, staring into the violet eyes of the Queen who never was. "Our house grows weaker everyday, the Hightowers claim more and more power. We need to unite the blood of old Valyria." Rhaenys raised an eyebrow, sipping her wine.

"How do you propose we do that?"

"I suggest inviting Laena as Rhaenyra's lady in waiting." You proposed, Rhaenys nodded but pressed the matter further.

"And what of my son?" She questioned.

"Perhaps an alliance could be made." Rhaenyra said, you looked curiously at your niece. She has not mentioned any alliance before. "As you know my father intends for my to marry, thankfully he has given me the right to choose my royal consort."

Your eyes widened at Rhaenyra's words, it would make a great political move but her aversion towards marriage prevented that. Now she was proposing an engagement herself?

"Your son Laenor would become my royal consort our children would become Kings, uniting our two houses." The heir spoke.

"I would have to consult with my husband." Rhaenys said, but deep down you knew that they cannot refuse such a match.

"And where is lord Corlys I would like to pay my respects." You asked but Rhaenys sighed.

"He is deeply injured and the maester's said that he should not take any visitors. But I will pass the message." Rhaenys said and left the hall.

...

You watched as Rhaenyra and Laenor walked on the sandy shore of the sea, engaged in conversation. You glanced from the balcony of your chambers. A knock interrupted your observations, you walked towards the doors opening them to reveal Laena.

"Please come in." The silver haired woman walked inside. Her teal dress flowed elegantly behind her. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I came to visit you, cousin. We have not seen each other since I was considered as a possible Queen." Laena said and took a seat.

"In retrospect if you had been given the choice now, would you marry Viserys?" You ask Laena shrugged her shoulders.

"If I was given the choice I do not think so." She responded.

"You wouldn't want to be Queen?" You asked curiously.

"Too much responsibilities, I would not be able to ride Vhagar instead I would have to entertain dull ladies. And the realm would except me to constantly squeeze out heirs." You nodded at her reasoning, you knew that some courtiers proposed you as a possible wife to Viserys but he quickly shut down those ideas.

"Then I am happy to say that Rhaenyra would not strip you of your right to bond with your dragon, perhaps we could fly together some time." You proposed and the Velaryon smiled.

"I hope we become friends." She said and you nodded.

"I would like that."

...

Coming back to King's Landing with Laena and her mount Vhagar certainly surprised the small folk as well as the court. The Velaryon and Targaryen walked together engrossed in conversation, you however departed from the two girls. Viserys was easily impressionable, Otto didn't have to try hard to manipulate him. So you needed to be quicker.

"Princess y/n Targaryen, your grace." The kings guards announced opening the heavy doors to Viserys's chambers.

"Your grace." you said bowing slightly. Viserys laughed and ushered you inside. " I come bearing good news."

"I am eager to hear them then." Viserys smiled, continuing to work on his old Valyria sculpture.

"Rhaenyra has proposed to marry Laenor Velaryon." His grace whipped his head in your direction. Surprise etched on his features.

"Really?" He asked.

"Yes, I think it is a good match. The Velaryons are the richest house in the realm, they are the blood of old Valyria and they have three dragons." The king nodded "Rhaenys said she has to consult with Corlys, once the word arrives you should officially bethrode the two."

"I will do so, yes." Viserys muttered

"Were you looking for houses were Aegon and Aemond could be fostered?" You asked changing the topic, Viserys raised an eyebrow curiously.

"I have not no. Why?" He asked.

"I would like to take Aegon with me to be fostered in Dorne." You said

"Marvellous idea sister!" His grace said smiling from ear to ear. "I know how much Aegon loves you. It would do him good."

You wanted to laugh, was Viserys so blind as to not see the rift creating in his household? Alicent and Otto will stew in anger at the news.

Many letters and offering were sent to the great houses, y/n's idea to bring influence over the houses of Westeros. She would do anything in her power to help Rhaenyra. With limited time in the capital she worked tirelessly, writing to many lords and ladies in Rhaenyra's name.

Now over four dozen lord and ladies made their way towards king's landing as members of Rhaenyra's court. The houses were delighted for their daughter to become members at court and their spare sons receiving knighthood's as well as a place in the king's guard.

The Targaryen princess poured the hot bronze wax over the folded parchment and placing her houses sigil and waited for the wax to harden.

The small council meeting was to take place today, the matter of Rhaenyra's engagement and Aegon's fostering would be discussed. You knew that they could not refuse, despite only Viserys knowing that you proposed the idea yourself.

Your maids dressed you in a pink dress made from silk, small gems were embroidered on the shoulders of the gown. The sleeves ended at the elbows and a loose, puffy white fabric covered the rest of the arm.

Ser Lorent Marbrand escorted you to the small council meeting, Rhaenyra was already there as the heir. She sat on the right of her father while Otto sat on the left. You kissed Rhaenyra's cheek and sat next to her, taking your place as the mistress of whisperers. The rest of the council arrived shortly after, Viserys arrived last.

"Your Grace." The people present bowed and sat as the King allowed it.

"I came to the conclusion that my son Aegon is of age to be fostered." Otto and Alicent widened their eyes as this was news to them. "I want him to be fostered in Dorne, my sister will take care of his upbringing as the ruling Princess of Dorne."

"And what of Prince Aemond?" Lord Lyonel asked.

"He is too young to be fostered but once the council deems him suitable I propose to foster Prince Aemond in Rivererun. Lord Grover has sons close to my nephews age." You answered glancing at Otto as fire burned behind his eyes.

"A great idea Princess." Lyman Beesbury smiled. "The crown was always close with the river lords. ."

"Thank you, my Lord." The master of coin bowed his head.

"As you know my daughter, your future Queen has been searching for a possible prince consort." Viserys began glancing lovingly at his daughter. "Princess Rhaenyra has decided to marry ser Laenor Velaryon."

The small council stared in shock at Rhaenyra, she in turn smugly smiled.

"The bethrodal has not yet been officially announced as Lord Corlys is ill, but Princess Rhaenys has agreed." Rhaenyra added.

"A fine match, your highness." Maester Mellos responded, that grey rat you thought. He is the one responsible for killing Aemma.

"As per my aunts advice I have decided to expand my own court." Rhaenyra announced.

"In what way princess?" Alicent questioned.

"I shall invite the daughters of the realm to serve as my ladies in waiting and companions, I also intend to provide the son's with squire positions."

"Can the crown withstand such a strain?" Otto questioned glancing at the master of coin Lord Beesbury.

"It should be no problem, lord hand. The ladies shall receive a pensions of a five hundred golden dragons as is customary. The princess and I have gone over a list of possible candidates and it amounts to thirty ladies and twenty lords."

"The princess is right, with the increased demand for spices the crown has gained much gold." Lord Lyman advocated.

"Then it is settled." Viserys concluded. "y/n if you could write to the the lords and ladies."

"The letters are waiting to be send."

...

The red keep was a marvellous building it's construction lasted for ten years started by Aegon the first and finished by his second son Maegor. The heels of your shoes clicked against the stone floor, see Duncans armour rattled with every movement. You nodded at the two guards stationed outside the nursery, they opened the heavy doors and you walked in.

Two maids and a septa watched the green children. Aegon played with the wooden soldiers you have gifted him for his seventh name day, Haelaena watched her younger brother Aemond chortle in his crib. When the door opened and the children noticed your presence they smiled and ran towards you hugging your skirts.

"y/n!" Aegon said happily you smiled and kissed the crown of his head doing the same to his siblings.

"I thought that we could go to the dragon pit and visit your hatchling." You proposed and the boys eyes lit up he nodded vigorously, you laughed at his excitement.

"Septa Tesha I shall be taking the prince and princess to the dragon pit." The holy woman nodded "Perhaps you could join us?" You proposed, but you knew she would not agree.

"Thank you princess but I shall stay here and wait for your return." She answered, the woman was Alicent's servant and yet she talked without a care to your spiders.

...

"Elder Jaqos could you bring Sunfyre?" You asked the elder dragon keeper he nodded and ventured deeper into the caves of the dragon pit. You held Helaena in your arms as Aegon gripped your skirts. You smiled as you heard the familiar screeches of Sunfyre. The small he dragon possessed gold scales with pink membranes. It is believed that the dragon hatched from one of dreamfyre's eggs and was the sibling of Caraxes and Meleys.

You watched as Aegon took little steps towards his dragon, the creature also watched curiously. The boy petted his mount and Sunfyre purred happily. You walked over with Helaena, you hummed a Valyrian lullaby and kneeled next to the dragon. Its head turned towards your from, you gently grazed his horns. Sunfyre leaned into your touch.

"y/n how come every dragon likes you?" Aegon asked watching the golden dragon smile.

"I do not know sweet boy." You answered "Why do you think they like me?" The boy raised her faint eyebrows.

"I think it is because you like them. They can sense the respect and love you hold for them." He responded after pondering on the question.

"That is a very smart Egg." You mused and caressed the boy's silver locks.

"Aegon would you like to go with me to Dorne?" You asked to boy, his violet eyes shone brightly and he nodded quickly.

"And what of my sister and brother?" He asked letting Helaena grip his finger.

"They will stay here, Rhaenyra will take great care of them."

...

You watched from the balcony as carriages arrived at the courtyard, the sigils of house Stark, Reed, Bolton of the north the Tullys, Blackwoods, Mallisters and Mootons of the riverlands and Arryns, Royce, Waynwood of the vale waved lightly in the wind. The children of house Tyrell, Redwyne, Tarly and Oakheart of the reach have arrived a few days ago. The Lannisters along with their vassals Banefort, Clegane and Payne have arrived first along with the Baratheons, Dondarrions, Buckler, Errol and Selmy of the storm lands. Now the only house you were waiting for were the Martells.

You watched as Rhaenyra along with Laena exchanged pleasantries with the new arrivals, gifts and thanks were given to the realm's delight. You nodded at your servants to tend to the noble houses and show them their new chambers in Aegonfort. They were instructed to pay close attention to the lords and ladies what they say, how they act, the look in their eyes, everything.

Ser Steffon Darklyn stood behind you as he observed the royal courtyard. You turned towards the knight and whispered in his ear.

"I want your most trusted men to observe the new guests." The knight nodded. Ser Steffon became your sworn shield, a strong and seasoned knight second only to the lord commander of the Kingsguard ser Harrold Westerling. You did not worry for the commander as he held great love for you and Rhaenyra. He was your and your nieces guard for almost ten years. His loyalty was certain. Your sworn shield nodded and followed after you as you descended the stairs standing next to Rhaenyra and her sworn shield Ser Criston Cole.

"My servants are tending to the new guests." You said in high Valyrian bowing your head at every lord and lady that kneeled before the two of you.

"Good, I am rather bored greeting all these people. Did you have to invite so many?" Rhaenyra questioned and you let out a laugh.

"If not me then who?" Rhaenyra chuckled and you did the same, your arms entertained as you greeted the guests.

...

Your maid Annora quietly walked into your solar, you put down your book and raised an eyebrow at the red haired girl.

"What is it?" You asked curiously and pointed to the chair next to you she swiftly took her seat.

"A party with Martell banners has been spotted on the King's Road few leagues away from King's Landing." She whispered and you nodded.

"Thank you Annora, you may leave." The maid nodded and left your chambers.

You sighed, things very hectic with the arrival of the courtiers you had to arrange a wider net of spiders. Accommodating the new guests was also tiring, you wrote down every extra expense and consulted with lord Lyman Beesbury the master of coin. It gave you an idea to find new and more successful ways for the crown to make money. In your investigation you found that most of the lands that belonged to House Targaryen in the crowlands have been unused. The lands were scattered with abandoned mines containing materials like iron, copper, gold and even gems. You could not believe that Viserys has forgotten or ignored such viable land. The smallfolk have been offered work in these mines and soon the crown was making more money than ever before.

The hours passed by quickly and soon came the word that the Martells have arrived in King's Landing. The whole royal family came to greet the prince of Dorne. You were curious of Qoren, the last time you saw him was nine long years ago. Four great black stallions pulled the carriage of the Dornish prince. Their sigil a red sun pierced by a golden spear decorated their orange banners.

Qoren Martell grew to be tall, slender and golden skinned. His face is slender with thin eyebrows, deep brown eyes and a sharp nose. His hair is lustrous and black. A thick and short beard covered his chin. He was the epitome of Dornish beauty. He bowed before the Targaryen's and smiled showing off his white teeth. As soon as he left his carriage his brown eyes met yours. A blush spread on your cheeks, as a small fond smile formed on your lips. Your little interaction was interrupted by Alicent.

"Prince Qoren we thank you for coming such a long way." Alicent spoke breaking the silence.

"The pleasure is all mine your grace." He responded, a small smile appeared on your lips. Daemon and Rhaenyra looked with disdain at the Dornish man.

Pleasantries were exchanged and servants led him to his chambers. One of your maids have instructed him to come to your chambers for supper. Despite being betrothed you wanted to avoid scandal, two of your trusted maids would be present during the ordeal.

You waited for the prince to arrive, dressed in a black and purple dress you sat in the comfortable armchair. Soon a knock interrupted your inner monologue.

"Your royal highness." He approached and bowed his head, you stood up and nodded.

"My prince, please sit down." You offered the seat across from your own. "I hope you will not mind that we are joined by my chaperones." You said cutting the food on your plate.

"Not at all your highness." He answered "I am glad to see you again." Qoren said and a rosy blush decorated his slender features.

"As am I, Qoren... I am very sad for your loss." You added. "From what I've heard your mother was a great person and ruler."

"Thank you, princess. But it was years ago." Qoren added.

"I didn't have the chance to say my condolences in person, I can only imagine how hard it is to loose a mother."

"It was hard, but I suppose time heals all wounds." The prince hummed. "After all you have lost your mother too."

"Oh, I do not remember my mother." A sad smile ghosted over your lips. "Perhaps that made it easier, as I never got to know her. Losing her didn't hurt."

"I'm sorry... no child should grow up without parents." Your betrothed offered his condolences.

"You have changed." You tried to change the moody subject.

"As have you, I never thought you could be even more beautiful and yet you have." He coyly said and a blush reddened your cheeks.

"Such flattery my prince."

"I cannot help it, my betrothed."

"I remember how you used to stumble over your words, now it seems the gods have blessed you with a silver tongue."

"You remember that?" Qoren smiled sheepishly, even though he was a man grown you could still see the boy you once knew shine thorough him. "I had hoped you would have forgotten." He placed his large warm hand on yours, the large sigil ring caused goosebumps on your skin.

"How could I forget, my prince? I remember the time we spent together fondly, as children life was much easier was it not?"

"Yes." Qoren agreed. "I am glad you remember me fondly."

"I do, after all you were the first friend I ever made."

...

You saw Rhaenyra surrounded by her ladies, they chatted, laughed and ate cake. When the time comes you will help your niece find suitable matches for the young ladies.

"Sister" Daemon said sneaking up on you, you gasped surprised.

"Seven hells" You whispered "What is it Daemon?"

"I have come to ask if you were serious?" He accused and you raised an eyebrow.

"Serious about what?" You countered

"That Dornish cunt." You sighed deeply, the last thing on your mind was Daemon's jealousy.

"What about him?" You questioned, Daemons eyes narrowed.

"Why are you marrying him?" He asked anger evident in his tone.

"Why shouldn't I? He's handsome, kind and the prince of a kingdom." You shot back not understanding this sudden outburst.

"You can't marry him." He ordered, a laugh escaped your throat at his child like behaviour.

"Daemon my sweet brother what do you expect I do? I have agreed to the bethrodal in fact I proposed it. Why would should I listen to a desperate plea from a man who inherits nothing, has no real position at court and his only allies are his family." You answered anger boiling in you insides.

"Careful little girl." He said menacingly.

"Or what Daemon? You'll kill me? Be serious, you had opportunities laid at your feet and you snubbed or ruined them." You had enough of him on his high horse.

"We should have wed in the traditions of old Valyria." Daemon said angrily, his silver brows furrowed.

"Maybe in another life we could have... But we don't get what we want simply by wanting." You answered and left Daemon alone.

...

Your insides were boiling, thoughts swarming your mind. You rode to the dragon pit eager to visit your friend. You stomped through the hidden passageway moving with knowing expertise among the many caves and crevices. Vermithor rested comfortably in his den, the burned stone and animal carcasses decorated the stoney cage.

"Vermithor?" You asked walking to the creature's snout, he lazily opened his yellow eye. The dragon screeched and straightened his wing so you could climb upon his back. The bronze fury gilded gracefully through the dragon pit the roars and screeches of other dragons resting in their dens brought you a sense of comfort, the heat from their flames only increased this feeling.

Without saying a word your mount soared to the sky, his mighty wings lifted you leagues into the sky. You smiled the cumbersome thoughts fleeing from your mind as if they were petals blown by the wind.

...

It is said that over one hundred crows have been sent on the eve of the first day of spring. And soon enough over four dozens members of the nobility travelled to king's landing. Many believe that the whole ordeal was singlehandedly arranged by Princess y/n Targaryen. In doing so she gained many wards of the great and minor houses of the seven kingdoms. Some gave her a new alias the good Tyanna of the Tower.- From the dragon bringer by the feather and quill of Grand Maester Roland.

[bloody-cupcakes]

Manipulative yandere! Veronica Sawyer x gn reader

Tw: yandere/dark content, gender neutral reader, Veronica is a very manipulative yandere but we love her anyway, Kurt and Ram mentioned along with their typical gross behavior, mentions of death/murder, brief argument between Veronica and JD that the reader overhears, slight swearing

A/N: this is for the lovely alligator anon who wanted either headcanons or a fic with manipulative yandere Veronica. I felt bad they had to wait for so long so I ended up writing both to make up for it (the original ask + the headcanons I wrote can be found here) hope you enjoy 💚

Veronica was a great girlfriend, and she loved you, sure, but she also had a bit of a mean streak about her. You brushed it off at first, chalking it up to Heather Chandler and her control, but when her behavior seemed to get worse even after Heather's death you started to become suspicious, especially of her new "friend" JD.

Whenever your brought up your concerns, though, she either rolled her eyes and scoffed or became almost condescendingly worried about you. In either case, you were brushed off as if your thoughts didn't matter much.

"I'm telling you, Veronica, this JD guy seems like bad news," you insisted as you trailed behind her through the hallways of Westerberg High, flinching when you heard jeering from Kurt and Ram over your clothing choice.

"He's nothing to worry about, you're overreacting." Veronica shot the jocks a dirty look while her lips curled up into an angry scowl at the unwanted attention they'd been giving you. "Hey, I just remembered I have to help my mom with something tonight, is it okay if you hang out with Heather McNamara instead of me?"

"What does she need help with? Maybe I can tag along!" You came across as a little desperate for attention, but in your defense you'd been craving some alone time with Veronica recently since she'd been distracted and more focused on JD than you.

"Sorry, but not this time."

Your shoulders slumped at her words and dismissive behavior. You just wanted to spend some time with your girlfriend, was that really so wrong?

"But-"

"I have to go, okay? I'll catch up with you later." With that, she left, making a beeline for the opposite direction.

"Bye," you mumbled out sadly as you watched her leave, quickly scurrying to your next class the moment you saw Kurt and Ram heading in your direction.

After school, you went over to Veronica's place in hopes that maybe she wasn't as busy as she'd claimed to be, but you didn't find her there. Her parents told you she had a school project to do with JD, and that's why she was gone.

You cried yourself to sleep that night in her bed, as her parents didn't have the heart to tell you to go back home and wait for her there. When you woke up the next day, everything seemed normal, until the sound of two people arguing suddenly cut through the air.

"Just forget about them! They're getting in the way of what we've set out to do," a deep male voice hissed, one that you recognized almost immediately as JD from the slight lisp and arrogance in his tone.

"No, I'm not going to 'just forget about them'! I care about them, they're one of the reasons why I'm doing this in the first place." You perked up at the second voice, immediately knowing it to be your girlfriend. "I need to protect them from all the awful people we're trying to get rid of."

If either of them knew you were there, they didn't show it, not even bothering to question the random lump under the blankets. You stayed quiet, listening in so you could hopefully find out what they were fighting over.

"They're starting to ask questions, and pretty soon it's going to lead to them finding out about something they're not supposed to, I just know it." JD didn't exactly seem like he was completely stable judging from his panicked voice and the way he kept pacing back and forth. "We should just get rid of them while we still have the chance."

"I said, no. I can handle it," Veronica snapped in a harsh tone, something that caused you to jump slightly. You could've sworn their eyes flickered over to you for a split second, but when they didn't acknowledge it you figured it must've just been a trick of the light. "We had a deal, remember? I'd help you with faking the suicides as long as you stayed away from the people I actually cared about."

JD let out an annoyed scoff, backing up some as he looked her up and down in a judgmental manner. "You're joking, right? You do realize that sometimes plans have to change?"

"Not this one," she insisted as she took a few steps towards him, refusing to back down.

The two glared at each other for a moment before he let out a huff of disbelief. "God, I can't believe you. You're really willing to risk everything we've accomplished for one person?"

She placed her hands on her hips and nodded. "You're damn right I am."

JD rolled his eyes at her before turning to leave from out the window. "Fine. I'll hold up my end of the bargain, so long as you hold up yours." With that, he quickly slipped out and was gone. The sound of a motorcycle revving up could be faintly heard through the window, which he'd purposely left ajar.

Veronica shut the window and headed downstairs, which would've given you the perfect chance to sneak out through her window if you weren't so worried about JD showing up again. You fell back asleep while trying to decide what to do about the conversation you'd overheard, not waking up again until much later.

Your girlfriend had you pulled into her lap as she hummed softly, her hand gently caressing her face. "Good morning, sleepy head," she greeted casual, as if nothing was out of the usual. "Or good afternoon, more like. You slept through lunch."

"Mrgh..." You groaned while sitting up, blinking a few times as your eyes adjusted to the light of the room. "Is JD still here?" The thought suddenly popped into your head that he might not have left the first time like you thought he had.

"Of course not, silly. He never was."

It was hard to hide the way your features contorted into a look of sleepy confusion at her words. "But... you two were fighting... about something..." You tried to protest, not thinking clearly enough to realize you probably shouldn't have admitted to knowing about their conversation.

"Whatever you think you heard, you didn't, okay? I'm sure you just had a bad dream." Veronica's voice was still soft on the surface, but it had a slight edge to it, as if she was trying to subtly tell you to drop the subject.

Still, you persisted. "No, I know what I heard. The two of you were standing there, and you were arguing over something to do with me. I'm certain of it."

Her eyes darkened as her tone became a lot firmer than before. "You don't know what you heard. You've been asleep ever since I came back alone earlier today."

The way she was speaking kind of scared you. Sure, you'd heard her speak up to people before, but it was usually a bully of some kind, maybe even one of the Heathers who was trying to push her around. Never before had she talked like that to you, certainly not when you were just asking a question. At that point you knew it was best to just let it go than risk making her mad at you.

"Yeah, you're probably right. I must've just dreamt it," you mumbled reluctantly, not wanting to argue.

She smiled as her eyes softened again, her tone returning back to normal. "Of course you did. Now, why don't you stay here while I get you something to eat, okay? I'm sure you must be starving."

There were so many different questions you wanted to ask her, but part of you was scared about the consequences that asking them might bring. Then again, you were probably just overthinking it in the first place.

There was absolutely no way your girlfriend could be involved in any sort of criminal activity. Although the statement she made about helping JD "fake the suicides" did make your stomach churn, she was right, it must've just been something you imagined.

Heather Chandler killed herself, not Veronica and JD, you were certain of it. And the bodies of Kurt and Ram that would soon be later found were clearly also just suicides, nothing unusual about them at all.

So why did you get the feeling that this was just the beginning?

[kikyoupdates]

Crushed Velvet ⭑˚👑⭑ 𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠

yandere!ocs x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, yandere reverse harem, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn

Your parents are thrilled to have secured an engagement for you with the royal family. Your suitor, the crown prince, has agreed to be wed to you. It seems as though your entire future has been assured, so why is it that from this moment onward, your life starts to fall apart at the seams?

⊱ XENO SOLAGE, 23

⊱ HYATT SOLAGE, 20

⊱ ELLA, 18

⊱ MAY SOLAGE, 42

⊱ WILLIAM SOLAGE, 47

⊱ ANNALISA TYBALT, 21

⊱ MIHAEL VERON, 28

⊱ LUCIUS TRAEGER, 25

⊱ KEITH LYBELL, 22

⊱ RAMI LUZ, 24

⊱ LEO GLADE, 26

⊱ KAYA HEATHCLAW, 21

⊱ ERIS HEATHCLAW, 10

⊱ APRIL GREENWOOD, 22

⊱ ALICE TRAEGER, 13

⊱ HECTOR TYBALT, 45

⊱ LEIF TYBALT, 23

⊱ LUKE TYBALT, 23

⊱ CARMILLA TYBALT, 42

⊱ SILVANIS HOFMEISTER, 52

⊱ VERONICA BELLEVUE, 31

⊱ GREGORY, 9

Read the first chapter here! Or, read all the available chapters on Quotev!

⊱.⋅follow + post notifications on for story update announcements or join the author's discord!⋅.⊰

main masterlist ♡ story masterlist

[bookloover35]

Headset & Hearts-Jason Dean x fem reader.

It was late afternoon, and the high school halls buzzed with the usual chaos. Veronica Sawyer, the queen bee of Westerburg High, had just wrapped up another scathing conversation with Heather Chandler—her scariest friend and worst enemy all rolled into one. But it wasn't Veronica who caught JD's eye today.

It was her sister.

You were the opposite of Veronica in every way. Where Veronica was polished, perfect, and effortlessly popular, you were the polar opposite. Tomboyish, rebellious, and comfortable in your own skin, you walked the hallways with the kind of swagger most people only wished they could have. You were always wearing that damn headset, tuned into your own world of music, podcasts, or whatever kept your mind occupied. A contrast to your sister's neatly styled hair and pressed skirts, you kept your look simple: baggy hoodie, ripped jeans, and sneakers. Your long, dark hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, and the way you walked with your hands shoved in your pockets made you seem like you didn't care about anything—least of all the expectations of high school.

It didn't take long for JD to notice you.

Jason Dean was a mystery wrapped in an enigma, a dangerous and brooding figure with a dead smile and dark eyes that seemed to see everything and nothing at once. He had a reputation for being a rebel, and in some ways, he admired your refusal to conform. You were like him in that sense—someone who didn't care about the rules, who thrived on chaos and unpredictability.

But there was something else about you that intrigued him. Maybe it was the way you never acknowledged anyone around you, as if the world and its petty dramas were beneath you. Maybe it was the fact that you didn't bat an eyelash when people gossiped about you in the halls. Or maybe it was the way you could completely tune out the noise with your headset, never once giving in to the pressure of being seen or heard.

One afternoon, JD decided to approach you. Veronica was busy with her usual high-maintenance group of friends, leaving you alone to drift through the hallways as you always did. He watched you from across the room as you passed by lockers, your music clearly drowning out the rest of the world.

JD smirked, walking slowly in your direction. As he approached, he leaned casually against the wall, blocking your path just as you turned the corner.

"Hey, headset girl," he called out, his voice smooth and mischievous.

You paused, stopping right in front of him. Without taking off the headset, you tilted your head slightly in his direction. You could tell someone was talking to you, but your music drowned out his words.

JD chuckled, stepping closer and tapping the side of your headset lightly.

"Not gonna take that thing off for a second?" he asked, his voice a little more teasing now.

You shot him a look, one that said you were annoyed but not particularly threatened. "Does it look like I care what you think, JD?" You didn't even bother to remove the headset. "I've got better things to do than chat with you."

JD raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?" His smirk widened. "Well, I think you might wanna listen for just a second."

You hesitated, finally taking the headset off and letting it hang around your neck. You didn't know why, but something about JD's persistence intrigued you. You looked up at him, crossing your arms.

"I'm listening," you said, your voice cool.

"You're different," JD said, his gaze never leaving yours. "You know that, right?"

"Different how?" You raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious now.

"Different from everyone else here," he clarified. "You don't care about their rules. You just... do your thing."

You smirked. "Yeah, well, someone's gotta remind these people how to breathe."

He chuckled at your response. "That's what I like about you. You don't play their game."

There was a moment of silence. JD took a step closer, his voice lowering to something more intimate. "So, what's your deal? Veronica's the pretty one, and you—well, you're a mystery. I like that."

You gave him a sidelong glance. "I'm not interested in your games, JD."

"Who said anything about games?" JD's eyes glinted with something darker. "Maybe I just want to know what it's like to be in your world. A world where nothing matters. No rules. No expectations."

You took a deep breath, the air between you two crackling with tension. "Maybe I'll let you in. But don't expect me to care what happens next."

He grinned, clearly enjoying the challenge. "I like that. I like when people don't care. It's more real, you know?"

You met his gaze, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth. "Real is overrated."

"Maybe," JD said, his voice dropping lower. "But sometimes, real is exactly what you need."

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you to ponder his words. There was something about JD—a dangerous allure, an energy that called to you in a way you couldn't quite understand. He was different, yes. But then again, so were you.

Maybe this could be the start of something interesting, after all.

[horangboosadan]

DOMINO | PROFILES: no one asked

synopsis:  A literature student with a procrastination problem and a dancing major who always says yes makes for an interesting combo of neither getting things done. It doesn’t help that there’s a best friend in the mix certain that the two will fall in love and makes sure they spend time together, only the two of them.

Somehow, every deadline is still met. Even the amount of time expected before the start of a developing crush.

pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x gender neutral!reader (they/them pronouns)

genre: romance, fluff, smau

masterlist 

YN: literature major that usually procastinates and uses every excuse to do something that isnt studying. best friends with mingyu. lives with ‘95s. avid listener and fan of woozi’s music.

MINGYU: culinary major. best friends with yn and has a mission to help them find a partner. lives with the rest of ‘97s.

SEUNGKWAN: music production major. newest addition to yn’s friend group. lives with veron and dino.

SEUNGCHEOL: literature major. the annoying dad of the group. lives with yn and the rest of ‘95s.

JEONGHAN: law student. lives with yn and rest of ‘95s.

JOSHUA: marketing major. has a sibling relationship with yn. lives with yn and the rest of ‘95s.

MINGHAO: literature major. lives with the rest of ‘97s. 

boo talks

i am so excited to be posting these profiles. this is yn’s friend group at the start of the fic. if you do pay close attention, you can see that there’s an overlap in who knows who and so on. i cannot wait to start posting, but at this point I’m still not entirely done so I’m hoping posting this will also hold me accountable. and, HAPPY BIRTHDAY HOSH! 

[naviaknell777]

THE URGE TO WRITE FULL BOOK STYLE FANFICS THO!!! I have two requests still left to do but I have so many other one-shot and full book ideas. Here’s all the full book ideas I have so far. I’ll need to finish requests before I write anything else but what do you think of these ideas? Any one I should start first in particular?

Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir x OC (Maricielo, her design and character sheet is on my art insta at vera_prime_studio) -> she’s also a hero and miraculous holder

Steven Universe x human reader (future! Series) -> at beginning of the Future series she moves to beach city, befriends Steven, maybe even falls in love?

Donnie x OC (Veron, her character sheet also on my art insta), who’s a turtle yokai

Sans x monster reader -> who’s Sans’ bestie and they experience life while Frisk is on a genocide route.

Sokka x reader -> They’re a firebender who was abandoned by their parents, the GAang reluctantly takes them in

Edalyn Clawthorne x OC (Sairi, who’s character sheet is on my Wattpad), she’s had an on and off crush on Eda since high school (and they’ve been best friends ever since) and they finally get together during the plot of the show

Ofc, I’ll let you know of more ideas if I get any, but that’s all the long term fic ideas I have rn. Lemme know what you think!

[clnriswood]

ARCHIE ANDREWS X READER

Big Little Town: Part Two

a/n: hello! very long chapter incoming! this one is kind of world build-y but i promise after this it’s angst galore. lmk if you want to be on a tag list, love you all and can’t wait to keep writing!

X

There hadn’t been much unpacking progress that afternoon. The girl had been in a pretty much constant state of fear and mingled excitement, so the only thing she’d managed was making her oak framed bed up with thick patterned quilts, and her window with a wispy white curtain. Archie saw her bring it upstairs and hang it up, of course. She’d noticed him eyeing her discreetly from his desk, but he was polite enough to pretend not to see what she was doing. After that the drapes had stayed closed. Now, the girl was heaving other objects into her room as a last minute distraction, the current item in question being a large gold framed mirror that she leaned decoratively against the wall opposite her bed. Her mother had helped her bring it up, and now they both stood in front of the mirror, staring at themselves in the vast reflection.

“What do you think?” her mother smiled.

She looked at herself, thinking. She hadn’t changed since earlier, but there was now a visible panic sweat building on her brow.

“I think I’m going to piss myself,” she concluded.

“Oh!?” her mother gaped wih surprise, giving her a light slap.

“Sorry,” she grumbled, turning away and sitting defeatedly on the edge of her bed.

“Don’t say that. It’s a blessing, really,” said her mother, sinking down beside her and placing a hand to her knee. “You have people coming right to you to try and be your friend!”

“How is that a blessing?” she replied dumbly with a furrow of her brows.

“Well,” she tried gently, “you aren’t so good at approaching other people first.”

The girl shot her mother one of those daggered glares she’d gotten so good at.

“Nevermind,” her mother dropped it with a scoff.

The girl stared down at her scuffed up sneakers, tapping them together uneasily.

“She’ll be here soon.”

“She?”

“Betty,” the girl explained. “She’s picking me up to take me to Pop’s.”

“I thought Fred Andrew's boy was doing that?” her mother said with surprise. “Doesn’t that make more sense? He lives right ther-”

“No,” the girl said. “Betty offered first.”

Lie. Immediately after receiving Archie’s invitation he’d asked to take her over but she made something up about Betty taking her and then had to frantically text Betty and lie to her that Archie couldn’t take her and then had to ask her to bring her instead and then-

“You really are bad at this lying thing,” her mother concluded her thought for her.

The girl gaped in mock hurt, but then dropped the expression, too lazy to even try pretending her lie wasn’t, well, a lie.

Then there was a ring at the doorbell. It was distant, but still, struck a fearful cord that sure sounded loud in the girl’s ears. She stood up slowly, tucking her phone into her jean’s tight back pocket and attempting to suck in a confident breath.

“Shame,” her mother’s cheeky words followed her out the room, “I wanted to see how much that Archie boy had grown.”

Thank goodness her back was to her mother as she descended the creaky stairs or she would’ve been in for a whirlwind of questions concerning the absolute red that seeped into her daughter’s cheeks.

. . .

Betty drove a little blue car that was, honestly, a little messy. Not that she was judging, it was just unexpected to see the neat blonde with a book scattered and paper strewn backseat. There was even a bundle of red yarn, like she was going crime solving or something. The thought made the girl laugh to herself. Yeah right.

The car was pretty quiet, (Y/N) thinking of her mother’s remark at her inability to approach people first, one which seemed very relevant at the moment.

“So, what sort of things are you looking forward to at school?” Betty finally broke the silence with some easy conversation.

The girl’s eyes flickered as she watched the flare of passing headlights, responding, “I hear you guys have a good music program?”

“Oh yeah,” Betty flashed her straight white teeth. “I’m awful at that stuff. Archie is great though!”

“Yeah I-” the girl shook her head and wrinkled her nose with embarrassment, “I know I… I used to know Archie. And you, kind of.”

Betty tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, not wanting to be rude but having no indication of who the girl was in her memory.

“I’m (Y/N),” she said, “which you know already. But my full name is (Y/N/) (Y/L/N).”

Betty repeated her full name slowly, trying to see if it rang any bells. She tried again but nothing stirred. She repeated it once more, and it took a second for it to actually hit her.

“OH MY GOD!” she hit the brakes with surprise, her blonde pony swinging.

She turned to get a look at the girl, a good look this time. Her perfect pink lips dropped open.

“You’re-” she shook her head, searching for the right words. Then she settled on gorgeous. “Not that you weren’t before,” she explained quickly, her lashes fluttering, “you’ve just changed a lot.”

Betty turned her big blue eyes slowly back to the road and started driving again with a short little laugh.

“Thanks,” the girl said bashfully, unsure of how else to reply. “You haven’t. Changed, I mean. You were always really cute.”

Betty let out an ugly snort, making the girl’s lips stretch wide into a smile.

“What?!”

“Please,” Betty scoffed. “I was not cute. I was embarrassing. I thought I was going to grow up to be either a princess, the president, or both simultaneously.”

“Are you kidding? That’s still my dream,” she joked, making Betty release a sweet airy laugh.

Sure enough, the girl found herself warming quickly to Betty Cooper.

“I was actually jealous of you, y’know?” Betty said as she turned her head to look at the girl with a grin.

“What? Me!?” she chortled. “Me, the weirdo with no friends?”

Betty shook her head, eyes back on the road now, “one friend.”

And just like that, the panic sweat was back.

“Archie?” she said nervously.

“Yeah, little Archie,” Betty rolled her eyes, “I had the biggest crush on him when we were kids.”

The girl gave a nod, twirling a piece of hair nervously around her index finger. Huh, looks like there was competition for her childhood crush. She couldn’t blame Betty for liking him. Any little girl with two eyes would’ve. Not wanting to sound too obvious, she asked, “do you still?”

Betty ugly snorted again, and then scolded herself for the reaction.

“Don’t tell Archie I laughed at him for that.”

“Believe me I won’t,” the girl chuckled.

“I’ll always love that boy but we’re very different people,” Betty explained, pulling up to the diner. “Plus I’ve got Jughead, and he’s got Ronnie.”

The girl was so busy absorbing the flickering neon lights of Pop’s famous (in her mind) Diner, that it took her a second to process what was just said or what it meant at all.

“What’s a Jughead?” she said stupidly to herself.

Betty just smiled and opened her door, the girl blindly following after her. It had been so long since she’d been to the diner, but not much had changed, other than it looked like it’d had a fresh coat of paint and someone had finally fixed that dreadful buzzing light in the “n” of the sign. The girl tripped nervously behind Betty into the diner, the door letting loose a little jingle as they stepped in. Unlike the cool night air they’d just briefly been exposed to, Pop’s was filled with a warmth and delicious sugary smell that made the girl salivate at once. A feeling of absolute nostalgia swept over her, one so strong Betty had to shake her out of it.

“(Y/N), hey, they’re over here.”

She snapped out of it, hair whirling around her shoulders as she turned to her left, eyes landing on a nearby booth where three people sat. One was a black haired boy in a beanie who sat with his legs up against the table but shifted upwards with a smile when he saw Betty. That must be the boy she’d just referred to as an it, she thought to herself. Then there was a raven haired girl in a sleek black dress who sat about as prim and properly as a person could in a plastic-y diner booth. Ronnie, she presumed. And then there was Archie Andrews. Archie Andrews with the beautiful brown eyes that were glued indiscreetly to her. Archie Andrews with his arm around the stunning girl beside him.

“Fuck,” the girl began to whisper, but then, catching their eye, let the word buzz out into nothingness as she gave them all a big fake smile hello.

“Jug, Veronica, this is (Y/N),” Betty introduced the girl politely. 

“Pleasure,” Veronica offered a hand, Jughead giving her a nod of acknowledgement.

She took her hand awkwardly as Betty pulled her up a chair to sit at the end of the table.

Oh good, like she could fifth wheel any harder.

“And Archie, you know (Y/N)!?” Betty beamed.

Archie’s eyes sparkled with knowing as he gave a nod, one the girl barely caught as she looked away quite quickly. Up close he was even more terrifying. And by terrifying she meant handsome. And by handsome she meant terrifying. A loose red strand of hair fell in front of Archie’s enthralled stare, and he was too dumbfounded to do anything about it, so Veronica fixed it up for him, making him snap out of his short lived trance. He moved his eyes over to his girlfriend, giving her a half smile.

“What’ll we be having?” a kind voice interrupted them.

The girl looked up into the eyes of none other than Pop himself. He wore the same old Pop’s uniform and the same old smile. He had that glorious Santa Clause twinkle in his eyes, and just the jolly Santa Clause laugh to go with it.

“My my, if it isn’t (Y/N),” he shook his head.

“You remember me?!” she said with both surprise and flattery.

Pop gave her a pat on the shoulder, addressing the group, “this girl used to come in every afternoon, sit right up on those stools that were too tall for her little legs, and order an extra-chocolate chocolate milkshake,” he smiled. Then, looking down, he chuckled, “how could I forget?”

She looked up at him with a huge grin, “you never did tell me your secret.”

“Ah, you’re old enough now,” he shrugged, “it was an extra brownie.”

“What?!” her mouth fell open, “that was it!? But you’d go back there and make it seem like you were doing this big magical thing-”

“Extra brownie,” he cut her off with a proud little wheeze, to which she shook her head. “I presume it’ll be the same for tonight, right?”

She scoffed, crossing her legs in her chair and sitting up a little better, “right.”

Pop nodded, “good to have you back, kiddo.”

The girl turned back slowly to face the others, who of course were all staring at her. There was a shared expression amongst them that she couldn’t place. They didn’t speak for a few seconds. Then it was Jughead who finally said what they were all thinking.

“You’ll let us try that thing, right?”

She let out a sigh of relief, and then a laugh and a shake of her head, “of course.”

. . .

Once they’d all passed the milkshake around the table once, every person had come to the same conclusion: this girl had taste. Then they’d all ordered themselves a round of her extra-chocolate chocolate milkshakes, even Archie. As she took sips of the delicious sugary goodness, it felt like social fuel being pumped into her lungs. She bonded with Jughead over their interest in fiction, Veronica over their interest in fashion, Betty with everything, and Archie with nothing, since she didn’t really speak to him. The neon lights of the diner sent a warm pink glow over the group, flushing their skin with the retro aura that made Riverdale what it was.

“A cracktown in the middle of the forest,” Jughead had decided to call it.

“Jug,” Betty hit her hand to her forehead with a laugh.

“No, seriously (Y/N) you wouldn’t believe the crap that happens here,” Jughead said, tossing a brownie chunk in his mouth.

“Relax, Jones,” Veronica said. “Don’t go scaring off our new girl so soon.”

The girl smiled a confused smile, unaware of what subtext she was missing out on.

Changing topic, Veronica asked what she might be looking forward to at school.

“Oh, um, the music,” she responded for the second time that night, averting Archie’s eyes as she did so. “I play guitar.”

“Do you now?” Veronica arched a sharp brow. “So does this ginger stallion beside me.”

Veronica grabbed Archie’s large arm and gave it an encouraging squeeze.

He nodded, and she made direct eye contact with him for only the second time that evening. His eyes softened when he caught her looking, making her stomach turn. Not that either would say it, but she was the one who had taught him to play, something they both recalled. He cracked the tiniest of smiles for her, making her forget how to breathe as she found herself suddenly very interested in the bottom of her milkshake glass. An awkward silence, the first and only of the night, ensued.

Veronica, feeling responsible for it, said, “well it’s late. I should be heading home before daddy worries.”

The girl had to pinch herself under the table to keep herself from laughing at whatever the hell had just been said. She raised her jaw to give Veronica a smile, the group rumbling with mutual chatter and goodbye’s as she parted without Archie, who she apparently called Archiekins.

“Me too,” Jughead said, “not because of my daddy issues,” he clarified. “I have a paper to write.”

“I’ll take you back,” Betty said, helping her boyfriend out of the seat after her. He leaned up and planted a kiss to her cheek as he stood, wrapping an arm around her.

It was kind of a funny sight to see the pink clad blonde girl with the black clad emo boy, but they did seem a good pair. The two stared at her.

“(Y/N), you coming?” Betty smiled.

The girl was far too nervous to even acknowledge Archie for a goodbye as she stood, making a clamor and hitting her knees on the table, “yeah.”

She barely got a step away before Archie cut the group off.

“Actually-” he started

They all turned to look at him.

His eyes were now fixated right on the girl, and confidently. Not that they weren't before, just that he seemed a little unsure of how to act around her up until the given moment, for whatever reason. He had his legs spread apart now, shoulders comfortably back against the crimson backside of the booth.

“I’ll take you,” he said.

“Well-” she protested.

But he wasn’t having it this time.

He did this incredibly frustrating blink smile thing at her that made her heart do somersaults.

“I’ll take her,” he said again, firmly, and to the others this time.

Feeling trapped, the girl turned to Betty for guidance. But Betty, being Betty, just smiled.

“Have fun you two.”

She felt like she was being abandoned by her new sister and her sister’s edgy boyfriend, helpless as they walked hand and hand away from her. She kept her back to Archie long after they left, too scared to turn. Her heels were glued together, and she raised her chin up to stare into the blazing lights above in a failed attempt to make the nightmare end. Then, slowly, she tilted her head, enough to address him without looking properly.

“After you.”

. . .

Archie drove an old truck that made strange noises when it ran but felt homey nonetheless. The seats were faded and it smelt of must and what she presumed to be his own scent, which was a kind of mingled sweat and dark cologne mixture that she strangely liked. An old CD was crammed into the car’s disk drive, and it hummed out low rock music that soothed the girl’s nerves. For a while, neither of them spoke, but it was he who finally broke the silence.

“Sorry,” Archie huffed lightly as the girl studied her void surroundings.

It was pitch black on the roads, and she had her head pressed to the cool glass as she stared into the inky black of the night. Archie had rolled his window down so that an icy breeze rolled up onto her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps.

“For what?” she spoke softly into the surface of the glass, her knees against the door.

“Oh, I know it’s not much,” the red haired boy said, moving his eyes between the road and the girl beside him.

“I like it,” she smiled, tilting her head to look at him and flashing her teeth.

Archie’s lips curled upwards, “yeah?”

He stared at her, his own teeth bright white against the darkness of his car.

“You think I wouldn’t?” she said, moving her knees from the door to facing forwards.

“Well,” he shrugged, “some people in this town have very expensive tastes.”

“Mmm?” she challenged, wiggling a brow at him. “And you think that includes me, Archiekins?”

She’d said the last word with the best Veronica impersonation she could manage; it was awful.

Archie let out a short loud laugh that he then stifled with his free hand. He leaned back further against his seat, relaxing his shoulders and keeping one hand lazily planted to the steering wheel as he shook his gorgeous red hair with amusement.

“I don’t know,” he laughed, his large eyes glimmering as the passing car lights shone in them. “You could’ve changed.”

“Yeah right,” the girl said, easing up and turning so that her back was now fully against the passenger door and her front was pointed directly at the boy.

Archie’s face flashed with some expression she couldn’t make out.

“What?” she prodded him.

“I don’t know, is it so hard to believe?” he shrugged, tilting his head to look briefly down at her.

She averted his eyes instantly. So apparently she wasn’t fully accustomed to him quite yet.

“What do you mean?” she asked the road.

“I mean-” he started, squinting his eyes and swaying his head as he selected his next words, “you’ve definitely changed.”

“Hm?” she said with mild surprise, turning back to look at him and feeling her heart skip a beat when she saw that he was still right there, staring back at her where she’d left him.

Archie didn’t know how to explain verbally, so he just kind of lingered his eyes very curiously on her before moving them slowly back to the road. He suppressed a smile with a bite of his cheek, making her frustrated.

“What?” she snapped.

“There’s not a very gentlemanly way of putting it,” he rolled his head attractively to look back down at her, smirking.

Her raised brows very slowly settled as she realized what he meant, her face burning with embarrassment as she turned it back to the outdoors and prayed he couldn’t make out her expression. So what, he just pointed out that she looked different. But what was that supposed to mean? She had to pinch her thighs to gather herself.

“So then who's to say you haven’t completely changed?” she finally responded in a cool tone.

“If it isn’t obvious by the dump on wheels that I drive,” he laughed, “me.”

“Really?” she taunted, mimicking his seductive head roll and blinking sweetly up at him, “I think you’ve definitely changed.”

Archie snorted and crinkled his nose adorably, tapping the girl off with his shoulders playfully, “hey.”

He wore this inquisitive smile as he turned quickly to look at her. He wanted her to elaborate on what she’d meant, but she just left him hanging like he’d done to her.

“Well,” he decided with a slow exhale, “I’m kind of relieved, to be honest.”

“Why?” she asked, taking his focus on the road as time to study the perfect curvatures of his cheeks, jaws, and lips.

“I’m glad you’re still, you know, you,” he said. “Sweet. Sassy. Kind of scary.”

She knocked his elbow with her own, “shut it Andrews.”

He opened his lips just wide enough to flash the edges of his jutted canines, “there she is.”

She couldn’t help but giggle, moving her legs and folding them to sit crossed legged in his seat. Archie didn’t seem remotely surprised.

“Yeah well, are you still the Archie Andrews I know?” she asked.

“Mmph,” Archie puffed lowly, “you could say that.”

“Elaborate,” she said.

“A lot has happened since you left. So, no. But, also yes? I’m still me underneath everything, I just think that a lot of people forget that... including me,” he explained somberly.

“Oh,” she frowned, “troubled past?”

He laughed bitterly, “like you wouldn’t believe.”

“I might,” she said, squishing her lips together with curiosity.

Archie shook his head with concealed hurt, not knowing where to start. He took a minute to himself before replying, during which he pulled up to their street and into his driveway.

“My dad passed away this year,” he decided.

“Oh,” the girl’s heart dropped.

She used to see Fred all the time when he and Mrs. Andrews would get Archie from school. She’d even written him the personalized essay on why he should get Archie his first guitar, and it had worked. Hurt but not knowing how to reply, she just stared at him, but he wasn’t looking back.

“I’m sorry,” she settled lamely.

“Me too,” Archie turned finally, resting his upset eyes on her, “about your dad.”

“Oh?” she said, taken aback.

“I mean,” he explained, “I knew back then, obviously. But I never said anything about it. I didn’t want you to think I judged you for it.”

“Honestly it’s fine,” she shook her head.

“No,” he cut her off, “because now I know what it feels like. To be the kid with the dad who died. Everyone treats you differently, like you’re, I don’t know, a victim. So nobody talks about it, it’s like they think I’ll self-destruct if they do,” his eyes settled in his lap. “And I don’t want that. I just want my dad.”

Her shoulders slumped with sadness, brows knitting as she leaned forward for his hand. She stopped though, not sure of if that was okay, so she asked.

“Can I?” she half whispered, tapping her fingers against Archie’s hand, which was still clutched tightly to his gear shift.

He just gave a little nod yes.

His hand was shaking a little when she reached for it, so she reassuringly wrapped her fingers around it, like in one of those friend hand holds where you don’t lock fingers. Archie wordlessly stopped her, nudging her fingers aside so he could lace his long fingers through her own. It took her aback, but there was no denying she preferred it. Kind of enthralled at the sight, she just looked at their hands together, hers much smaller and colder, feeling safe entangled in his. And his hands felt good. Rough. Warm. Familiar. Realizing it’d been the first time they’d actually touched in years, she felt her throat go hard. Archie seemed to pick up on it too, because when she lifted her gaze he was looking at her, kind of flickering his eyes back and forth between her own. She felt her heart pick up, thumping loudly in her ears, her blood filled with a faint electricity. But this time she didn’t look away. It felt too good to. So she let Archie do it, though he looked reluctant to do so. He retracted his hand timidly, making her instantly go cold without it.

“Hey,” he started softly, “are we okay?”

She stared at him with a slightly tilted head, “of course, why?”

“Well,” he said nervously, “You kind of shut me out with those curtains before. And then I got a text from Betty saying she was taking you to Pop’s at the last minute, which was weird because I’d already offered. And, well, you didn’t speak to me at all until ten minutes ago.”

He said it all to his knees instead of to her face, his lips curled into a frown.

The girl closed her eyes in embarrassment, shaking her head, “I’m sorry. It’s not what you think.”

When she opened them again he was looking at her, awaiting her next words.

She gulped nervously. It wasn’t exactly like she could admit she’d been hit full force with a suppressed wave of years of her own pent up frustration and feelings when she saw him.

“I just,” she sighed, rubbing a thumb nervously over her wrist “I was afraid.”

“Of what?” he replied with surprise.

“You,” she admitted, settling for the partial truth. “I hadn’t seen you in so long and I didn’t know how much had changed or if you’d-” she shook her head, pausing, “if new Archie would still like me.”

He released an airy laugh, “are you kidding (Y/N)(Y/L/N)?”

That threw her off guard. Back in the day he had often called her by her full name. Whether sweet or stupid, she had never decided. But this time it definitely felt sweet.

“No I’m not, Archie Andrews,” she said slowly back, drawing her gaze away.

That made him grin that damn grin that drove her insane.

“I could never stop liking you,” he promised with enough sincerity to make her look up again. “Promise.”

She smiled timidly, “how am I supposed to get that when I’m being dragged into a new friend group the very night I’m moving back into town?” she said. “I mean, they’re lovely of course,” she defended, “but you can’t blame me for being nervous.”

Archie squinted his eyes, taking in her words before deciding, “you're right.”

“I am?” she said with a confused laugh.

“Yes,” he nodded. “I know you, and I should’ve known better than to think that was your thing.”

He wasn’t wrong.

“And I promise,” he added, “next time it’ll be just us.”

She blinked at the fiery redhead with mingled hope and nervousness, “yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, tilting his head forward with an encouraging smile. “Tomorrow I’ll come over and help you unpack. And then after we can do whatever you want, and you can catch me up on everything I missed,” he beamed.

Seeing him get so excited to spend time with her practically sent her off the deep end, her heart feeling like it was being squeezed out by Archie himself. She beamed back at him, making him smile, if possible, even wider.

“Wait,” she realized, feeling upset wash over her, “aren’t you supposed to see Veronica tomorrow?”

“Oh,” Archie said, knitting his brows, “it’s alright. I’m sure she’ll understand me helping out an old friend.”

Ouch. It was sweet, but still, she couldn’t help the sting that came with “old friend.”

“Really?” the girl asked.

“Of course,” he reassured.

She nodded nervously, feeling incredibly grateful to have him back. So she told him.

“I’m really happy to have you back.”

He let his lips fall into a content close, his chocolate eyes twinkling, “I’m happy to have you back too.”

The two stared at each other, an awkward quiet ensuing, neither sure of what to say next. Both luckily and unluckily, the girl’s front porch light snapped on, making both of them jump. The girl’s mother was by the door, and she was waving down Archie’s truck.

“Oh my god,” the girl said with horror, “Archie run.”

But he wasn’t listening. In fact, he was halfway out the truck.

“No way, Mrs. (Y/L/N)!?” he said cheerfully, extending his hand as he walked out to meet her halfway.

The girl cursed under her breath as she climbed out the vehicle, so appalled she could barely look.

“Archie!” her mom said, hobbling over in her pink robe.

She shook the boy’s hand, marvelling at what a handsome young man he was.

The girl’s sneakers crunched over the grass and leaves as she stood beside them, her eyes darting between the exchange and the ground but unsure of where to stay.

“Last time I saw you you were just a tiny little thing with a football twice the size of your head!” she chortled.

“And last time I saw you you looked just as youthful Mrs. (Y/L/N),” Archie replied.

Damn that boy was smooth.

Her mother clearly enjoyed it, voicing, “always an angel, Archie.”

The porch and moon’s light combined sent shadows over their faces, crickets chirping obnoxiously as her mother patted Archie off with a laugh. They made small talk that was frankly too unbearable for the girl, so she wordlessly slipped off and into the house before they could say anything. As soon as she got in she bolted up the stairs, hands running through her hair nervously and back hitting the door of her room once she was safe inside. She sucked in a few breaths, eyes fluttering as she processed the catastrophe occuring downstairs, and just generally in her life. A minute later she heard the front door close, and her mother yelled up something that sounded like an indistinct “well gosh I get what you mean now!” That only embarrassed the girl further, making her slide down against her door with a groan. Thank God her drapes were closed so Archie didn’t see it all happening. Well, speaking of…

The girl slowly opened her eyes, lifting her body from the ground with a sigh. She stood, staring at her curtains. She could see light flooding in from the other side, meaning Archie was now in his room. Sucking in a slow breath, she tucked her long hair behind her ears and approached her curtains slowly. Her face was expressionless as she felt for the fabric, her heart just a little too fast as she timidly pulled it aside.

There was Archie, breathtaking as ever. He sat on the edge of his bed, phone resting in his hands like he was contemplating using it. But then, feeling her bedroom light flood over to his side of the divide, Archie looked up with knowing. She still had one hand holding the drapes, the other loosely by her side, clutching her own phone. Archie stared at her with a happily taken aback expression, his chest heaving lightly against his white tee, his hands steady as they unlocked his phone. The auburn haired boy looked at her for a second, then down at his phone as he typed away a message. Then he looked back up. Her phone screen lit up at once.

No goodbye?

She chuckled, looking up in time to catch him smile with a tilt of his brows.

The girl typed back.

Sorry. Too rough down there, had to get out.

This time Archie laughed.

Goodnight, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

She smiled.

Goodnight, Archie Andrews.

He didn’t text back after that, he just stepped forward and reached for his own blinds, tilting his head at her in a wordless goodbye. Neither wanted to be the first to shut the other out, so instead they just closed their blinds together, the last thing she caught being the ever so faint twitch of Archie’s content lips.

[vaya-writes]

Infernal Assistance (Option Four) - 4

You’ve been struggling to survive in a zombie apocalypse. Things are looking really bad before a demon swoops in to help. But that demon is an incubus. And he’s in need of help too.

-

Reader (GNC pronouns, AFAB, asexual spectrum) x incubus (cis male). Situationship. Allies to lovers. Zombie apocalypse AU. Slow Burn. Banner by saradika-graphics. Wordcount: 3800.

Content Warnings: apocalypse setting, chronic fatigue depicted, detailed discussions of sex, kink, sexual dysfunction, consent, monster cock anatomy, etc. Very brief discussion implying sexual assault and sex with somebody dying has happened to Veron since the apocalypse. Please let me know if you’d like anything else added.

This chapter was very cathartic to write, but a pain in the ass to edit.

Masterlist - A03 - Previous

Regardless of your newfound ability to nap in unfamiliar places, the sound of the door opening still startles you awake. 

Veron takes in your raised hands and defensive posture with a huff and a smirk. “You alright?” 

You take a moment to orient yourself. To let your heartrate settle, and wipe the sleep from your eyes before nodding. “Yeah. Sorry. Dozed off.” 

His wry amusement is immediately replaced with a creased brow and a frown. He bridges the gap between you. Puts the back of his hand against your forehead for a moment before withdrawing it suddenly; rethinking the impulse to touch you, or perhaps not actually knowing how to check a human’s temperature. “Is that normal?” 

It’s your turn for amusement, seeing a new side to the demon. With the impassive and steady front he’d shown you yesterday, you’d assumed he wouldn’t be the type to fret.  

“I’m fine. Feeling refreshed already. Having to take breaks is pretty normal for me.” You don’t tell him that the nap is an outlier. 

Even with your assurance, he looks bothered. “Did I take too much from you this morning? Do you want me to carry you home?” 

“God. No.” At that you push to your feet. Your cheeks blaze. You’re not going to let a stranger carry you home because you took a nap. 

But he might be right.  

“I mean. Maybe you did? I don’t really know. But I can walk. If you really want to fuss, then you can help me carry everything back.” 

He intercepts your movement and swats your hands away. “I’ll get it. Don’t push yourself.” 

You hide your amusement and let him load up on supplies before leaving for your apartment. 

He stares at you on the trip back. Frequent little glances, with that crease still in his brow. 

You let out a huff when everything has been delivered and he still hovers. “Look, I fatigue easily. I promise. It’s normal.” 

He crosses his arms. Gives a noncommittal grunt. But doesn’t move. 

“Let’s see how I feel tomorrow. If it becomes a problem, maybe we can change our schedule or something. Feed you in the evenings so I can take the night to recover. Yeah?” 

Some of the tension seems to go out of him. Enough so that he takes a seat on the couch. “Alright.” 

Still, he doesn’t relax. Even as you sort groceries in the kitchen and rearrange your new supplies.  

You leave him there, putting things away in the bathroom and the linen cupboards. Making the rounds through your space until you return to the lounge and find him waiting on the couch, still stiff. Still stewing in some unnamed emotion. 

Thinking it’d be better to nip the problem in the bud before it develops any further, you join him in the lounge.  

“What’s wrong?” 

He works his jaw. Opens his mouth to speak, but takes a moment to find the words.  

You let him. 

“You’re the first living person I’ve seen in weeks. The first friendly one in... months. I don’t want to hurt you on accident.” 

The first words that jump to your mind, the first assurance is ‘you won’t’. But you can’t promise that, can you? You don’t know this demon. Don’t know his temper or his strength. His patience or his moods.  

He could hurt you.  

It’s a thought you’ve already accepted. It contributed to why you agreed so readily to feed him. Why you’ll keep feeding him. Because a part of you knows: he needs you. Literally. Needs.  

And it would be better to help him willingly, than to have the choice taken away. Something you’re sure he could do. You saw him go against the zombies outside. If he wanted, nothing would stop him from taking control. Dragging you away from your home and using you as a portable snack.  

You realise he’s staring. A miserable look on his face, almost as if he can read your thoughts.  

You banish the worst case scenarios from your mind. Return again the crux of the hour. That Veron is worried. And that he doesn’t want to hurt you.  

You close your eyes in a grimace. Visualise where the rest of this conversation is going to have to go. “Alright. You’re my new roommate, nearly everyone else is dead, we might as well skip the small talk and jump right into the deep end.” 

Without further ado you drop onto the couch beside him. Stare at the black screen of your now defunct television while you direct your speech towards Veron. 

“Tell you what. I promise that from here on out I will make an effort to communicate with you. In particular, if things are- If you’re hurting me. If you’re about to hurt me. If things are about to go too far, or I’m out of energy, if you’re- going too deep or using too much force or- whatever. Okay? I’ll complain and whinge until you wish I’d be less communicative.”  

You don’t want to look at him. Don’t really want to be perceived right now. Instead focusing your attention on the demon’s reflection. How comically big he looks on the couch next to you. 

He lets out a long breath. “Right. I appreciate that. But what if... you’re not sure? If I’m going too far. Like.” He pauses. Considers. “Have you ever been for a massage?” 

You humour him. “I suppose.” 

“And they ask how hard you want it, and you say..?” 

“Medium.” 

“Okay, so they’re giving you a massage, and they’re getting it right. It’s feeling good. And then suddenly, just in this one spot, it’s a little bit too hard. The rest of it is fine. But, just this one spot is a bit unpleasant for you. Not unbearable, but not relaxing anymore. Right?” 

“Right.” 

He meets your gaze, “Do you say something?” 

And then you get it. Because in a situation like that, if it’s not outright hurting, if it’s only a little unpleasant, why not push through? You know it’s not good to do so during a massage. But communicating precisely is hard enough without telling a stranger how to touch your body. What if you get up the nerve to tell them ‘that spot hurts, go lighter,’ and suddenly the rest of the massage is too light? 

Is this how Veron feels when he’s fucking people? Like a masseuse, wondering if something he’s doing isn’t right? If people are just pushing through? 

“Can you tell? When somebody’s holding something back? With your... abilities?” 

He leans back into the couch. Expression somewhere between resigned and properly upset. “Was it a good massage?” 

“Huh?” 

“If it only hurts a little, do you still have a good time? Find yourself relaxed?” 

You consider. “I guess it varies. I usually appreciate any massage, enough to put aside a temporary discomfort.” 

He shrugs. “Then I probably can’t tell. I can sense arousal. I might notice it dip a little, but I’m not going to know why unless you say something.” 

It’s weird, his morose tone. You weren’t expecting him to get vulnerable with you, but that’s how he looks right now, staring fixedly at the ground. 

“Does that happen a lot?” 

He blinks, breaking from stupor. “The massage thing? Just a metaphor. But. Sometimes I’ll have some really good sex and then I’ll find out my partner didn’t like it as much. And it’s really upsetting. Because I wish they’d said something. Asked for more. Told me what wasn’t working. I like making sure my partner has a good time.” 

He crinkles his nose. Brings himself to glance your direction. “And I don’t want to be rude, but, like. You’ve got this... feeling. Where, you’re not... inexperienced, but, like. Not interested? Just. I know you’re doing this because you have to. And I appreciate it. But I still want you to tell me if you’re having a bad time. Yeah?” 

You’re taken aback. You wonder if all concubi would be so good at reading you or if Veron is just particularly perceptive. Because he’s not wrong.  

And now he’s staring down at you, lip bitten and arms wrapped around his knees, like he’s bracing for you to hurt him.  

You let out a long breath of your own. Sit back. Try not to fidget.  

“I have a... complicated relationship with sex. Some days I can’t stand the thought of it. Other days I’m completely neutral. And some days I’m all for it. None of those things are a problem by themself, but. It’s completely unpredictable. I never know what to expect.” You stare down at your hands. “My partners never. Get it, I guess. Or, sometimes they do. But they just don’t have the patience to deal with it. Make it feel like my fault when I don’t want to fuck. I guess as a result, I tend to do that thing. That you worry about. Where, if I’m not having a great time I don’t say anything. Because. I don’t think there’s anything they can do.” 

He’s silent for a while. You don’t blame him. It’s a heavy confession. What do you even say to somebody in response? 

He starts with, “I’m sorry people have made you feel like that.” 

It’s enough to get you to look at him again. Knees tucked less against his chest. Sitting cross-legged now, facing you. Still lip bitten and frowning, but less afraid. Less anxious.  

“You could have a sexual dysfunction.” He shrugs. A little smile appears on his face for a moment before fading. “Or, just straight up could be asexual. But. That’s not the point. Neither of those things would be your fault. Neither of those things are shameful either. And your partners shouldn’t have made you feel like they were.” 

You have to look away again when tears spring to your eyes. It takes you a few breaths to banish them. To hide your... what are you feeling? Relief? Embarrassment? You’re feeling seen, mostly. 

“I’m not the best at communicating what’s precisely what’s on my mind, but-” the words are out of your mouth before you have a chance to think them through. “I assume you’re familiar with the stoplight system.” 

“Yes.” 

“I can give you a bunch of yellows. As a ‘slow down and let me figure out how to tell you what’s wrong.’ Yeah? I might not know how to perfectly express when something’s not working, but I can at least be honest and tell you when it’s starting to happen.” 

He’s silent.  

Perhaps for a moment too long, because it has you anxious. “Will that help?” 

He lets out another breath. And then suddenly your hand is enveloped in his.  

You startle at the unexpected contact, meeting his gaze. He’s giving you another of those small smiles. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I think that will help. Thank you.” 

You smile back. Squeeze his hand for a moment before scrambling off the couch, trying to pretend you aren’t psyched out by that one piece of contact. Nervous rambling returns in place of your carefully thought-out confessions. 

“And hey, worry a little less about hurting me. I could be into it.” 

You regret the jest immediately, face pulling into a cringe. Is it too soon to make weird kinky sex jokes? It’s definitely too soon for that, right? 

You escape towards the kitchen. 

Veron is frozen, temporarily shocked out of his budding anguish. 

He laughs. A winded, raspy sound. 

“You-” he glances at you. Shakes his head and stares down at his hands, steepled between his knees. Rubs his face, still smiling. “Sure. Whatever you’re into.” 

“Don’t say that,” you open the pantry. Wielding manic banter to hide your embarrassment. “You don’t know what I’m into.” 

He sits back. Stares up at the ceiling with that small smile at his lips. “I promise I’ve seen kinks far more scandalous than yours.” 

He’s probably right. But the change to the atmosphere is nice, so you let yourself scoff at him in mock indignance. “I might have an unpredictable sex drive and difficulty coming, but I can still be into weird stuff.” 

He lets you make self-depreciating jokes about your kinks, occasionally quipping back until you start lunch and the pair of you fall into companionable silence.  

He joins you on the other side of the counter. Watches you eat. 

You finish your barebones meal and tidy up. You’re ready to call it there. To give him a pat on the shoulder and get back to work.  

He breaks the silence. 

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. If you did want me to hurt you during sex.” 

You drop a fork in the sink and let out a groan. “I just managed to break the tension. You really want to build it again?” 

“You’re very kind.” 

“I’m averagely kind. Why don’t we wait until we’ve actually had sex before discussing that kind of stuff.” 

You watch from your peripheral as his whole demeanour changes. The seriousness returns, though his gaze is no longer anxious or fretful.  

“It’s important for me to know my partner’s boundaries. Along with the things they want and enjoy.” 

You don’t quite meet his eye. Partner. The word is pretty intimidating in this context (He’s referring to you, after all). 

But not inaccurate. You’re working together, for better or worse. He’s trying to be forthcoming. And you can appreciate that. So you suck it up and make yourself participate in another hard discussion, this time hunched over either side of your kitchen counter. 

It’s more confronting now. More obvious when you’re avoiding his gaze. 

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself first?” 

Your question only hangs in the air for a moment before Veron shrugs. Eyes brightening at your concession. 

“Well. I like oral sex. I especially like giving it.” 

Your cheeks warm and you hide a smile. Yeah, you’d gathered that much. 

“I like fingering, but have to use magic to get rid of my claws. It’ll probably won’t be worth the energy cost in the coming days.” 

At his words you can’t help but glance in his direction. Peek at his hands.  

“I like touching, and being touched. I’m very tactile. Most stimulus is good stimulus. So if you want to get a bit rough with me you can. Pulling hair, tail, horns. Though when you pull somebody’s tail you should grip close to the base to avoid injuring it.” 

“Like hair pulling,” you add. 

“Like hair pulling,” he nods. Then gestures to his legs, “though my fur is short enough that you’d be hard pressed to not pull near the base.” 

You glance over his shoulder. “What about your wings?” 

They twitch under your stare, the stubby things flexing and unflexing. 

“They don’t get in the way too much. I can put weight on them. But I don’t like to do it for long periods of time. So laying on my back for more than a few minutes gets uncomfortable.” He flexes again, leaning forward so you can see the membranous expanse. They have a wide base, jutting out into prominent stumps and ranging along the slope of his back. Despite this they don’t span any further than Veron can reach his arms, looking more fit for gliding rather than proper flight.  

“Are they sensitive?” 

“Yes,” he tilts is head. “But not particularly erogenous. Still, if you’re going to be rough with them, I’d work up to it. Don’t just yank them around out without warning.” 

You glance up at Veron’s face before looking away again. Making yourself engage with the topic, you clear your throat. “I, uh, feel the same. About roughness. Mostly. In that I don’t mind it, but need to be... eased into it, I guess. Every time, I mean.” 

“Of course. That’s generally how bodies work.” He pauses. “Do you have any other preferences? At least when it comes to the basics?” 

It’s weird to let your mind wander towards sex when you’re having a serious conversation. To actively ask yourself how you want it while trying to maintain appropriate eye contact and body language. 

“Um. I suppose. I don’t mind being gagged or restrained? But not both at the same time.” 

“So you can communicate?”  

“So I can communicate,” you nod.  

“Do you like being gagged or restrained?” He adopts an almost flirty tone. 

You have to drop your eyes again. Shrug. “Yeah, sometimes. It depends on my mood I suppose.” 

“Do you ever dislike being gagged or restrained?” He sounds more curious this time. No longer flirty. Relaxed. 

You’re surprised at the question, and realise you appreciate it too. “Yes. If I’m having a high pain day, bondage can make it worse, or just be very unsexy. And being gagged when my mouth is dry is unpleasant.” 

“Fair enough. Does pain impact your vanilla sex too?” 

You find your answers coming easier now. These are the type of questions you actually wish your previous partners had thought to ask. “It can. Like... if I’m with a spontaneous partner. Being manhandled is hot, but I don’t like it if I don’t know what position they plan to put me in, because I worry it might hurt.” 

He nods, thoughtful, taking a moment before replying. “So what I’m getting is: discuss how you’re feeling before starting any sexual acts, check if there’s anything you distinctly don’t want to do, and communicate before any changes.” 

You take a moment to think it over. Then, “Yeah. That sums it up nicely.” 

“What about your pussy?” 

You sink back into embarrassment. “What about my pussy?” 

“How’s it work?” 

You bark out a laugh at his question. “Like any other, I assume?” 

“You do alright with penetrative sex?” 

“Yeah. I can enjoy it.” 

“Do you like being stretched out beforehand?”  

You’d never considered it before, and shrug. “I mean. If I’m horny, I like foreplay. If I’m just getting my partner off, I rush a bit more. Provided I’m wet enough, I don’t need to stretch.” 

He seems to consider that answer, brow creasing. “Well, I can get you wet easily enough. But I’m a bit bigger than the average human. Will that be a problem?” 

You raise your brow. “I mean. The most I’ve felt is discomfort, at trying to put a toy too far in. So I’ll let you know. But the problem is the other thing. I don’t always get wet enough.” 

“My saliva is literally designed to arouse and lubricate. We should be fine on that front.” 

His frankness might embarrass you any other time. But having him stay calm and serious in the face of an uncomfortable discussion is a relief. 

“What about you?” 

“Hmm?” 

You gesture towards his lower half. “Is demon anatomy different to human?” 

He grins. “Oh. Yeah. Though it varies from species to species. Personally, most of my stuff is internal.” 

Before you have a chance to respond he steps back from the counter, shoves his coat back, and runs his hands up his belly, moving some of the fur out of the way. 

Your eyes fly upwards, practically scandalised. You know he’s been walking around without anything beneath the coat, but you hadn’t tried to get an eyeful. 

“Just a sheath. And my cock pops right out when I get aroused. See?” 

You keep your eyes averted. “A verbal explanation would have sufficed.” 

He lets the coat drop and leans back against the counter. “Right. Sorry.” He looks more sheepish than apologetic. 

You roll your eyes. “So. Do I need to worry about pregnancy? STDs?” 

He regains some seriousness at the topic. “Pregnancy, no. Well. You’re one hundred percent human?” 

“Yes?” 

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem. Non demons can only get pregnant while they’re in Infernus, as a general rule. And unless I’ve caught a disease from sitting on a toilet seat or whatever, you should be safe on the other front.” 

“That’s a myth you know.” 

“Sure. Point being, I know I was infection-free before,” he gestures towards the balcony, “you know. The world ended. So. Seven weeks ago. And since then I’ve not put my dick inside of anyone. Or put my mouth on anyone for that matter.” 

It wasn’t a large concern, but you can’t deny that it was still there, in the back of your mind. Still, you can’t help but frown. “Have you really gone that long without feeding?” 

He winces. Then shrugs. “I’ve had some... encounters, I guess you could call them. Two of them were more self-defence than feeding. Seducing myself out from a gun to the head. They were both in group settings, and I didn’t feel safe enough to stick around with those survivors. And then, maybe two weeks ago I found somebody else. I... couldn’t do anything to help them. But they helped me. I used up most of my reserves just- ...it was bad. I don’t want to get into it.” 

You give a slow nod. There’s a long moment while you process what he’s left unsaid. While you contemplate just how hard Veron has actually had it. 

You bring your fist to his shoulder. Bump him gently. “It’s been hard for me talking about sex. But, like. It’s not a big part of my life, you know? I can just opt out. I’m sorry you’ve. Literally, got to deal with it. That you’ve had those experiences. That you had to have them.” 

He takes your hand again. Squeezes it. “It’s over now. But thanks.” 

The atmosphere is heavy again, and you wish you could do more to banish the tension. Instead, you push through. “I don’t really have any more questions. Is there anything else you’d like to know?” 

He drops your hand. Adopts one of those flirty smiles. “I mean. We could compare kinks and fetishes. Or, I could joke about putting the things we’ve learned to the test.” 

You squint. “Is that your way of using a pickup line without committing to using a pickup line?” 

He shrugs and the smile turns apologetic. “More like, this is where I’d use the pickup line if I weren’t on sex rations.” 

You can’t help but laugh at his phrasing. 

He blinks and tilts his head. Staring, like he didn’t think he’d been that funny, that he didn’t expect you to laugh at his joke.  

“I trust you’ll think up a new one to use tomorrow, yeah?” 

His eyes soften and he makes a smooth recovery, pulling up another smile. “Sure. One corny pickup line, made to order. I’ll have it ready tomorrow.” 

Next

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine Veronica taking care of you when you’re sick.

Veronica entered your bedroom with a small folding tray in her hands. Set upon it, as you could see, was your favorite mug full of tea, a bowl of something steaming, and a small plate of saltine crackers.

“Fresh from New York, the best chicken noodle soup that you can get.” Veronica said, setting up the tray so the fold-out legs trapped yours between them, making a small table. Though she was smiling when she walked in, she now looked concerned. “When was the last time you took your medicine?”

“An hour ago.” You said, smelling the soup, and sampled the tea first. The heat of it felt good against your sore throat. “You didn’t need to get soup for me - and from New York? What that must have cost...”

“You’re worth it, it’s fine. It makes me feel better everytime, so eat up.” She went as far as to get you a napkin and tuck it into the top of the pajamas that you were wearing. “You look like you need all the help that you can get,” She admitted.

“Well, thanks for making me feel beautiful,” You said sarcastically. She rolled her eyes and took a step away from the bed. Normally you would have kissed her for doing something this sweet but the last thing that you needed was to make her sick as well. You didn’t have the connections to get her New York soup. “Thanks though, Ronnie, I do appreciate it.”

To show her that, you picked up the spoon, got a spoonful of the soup, blew on it slowly then put it into your mouth. Your eyes widened in surprise and Veronica’s smile came back.

“Told you it was the best.” She said. “You’re welcome.”

[chloe-skywalker]

Dating Derek Hale would include . . .

- Meeting Derek when he was walking back from giving the inhaler to Scott 

- Talking for a bit with him before Scott and stiles start to call you

- Derek actually smiling 

-  Him finding you  cute 

- Him smiling a little when he helps Scott and your there

- Being best friends with Scott and stiles since kinder-garden

- Seeing Derek wolf out for the first time

- And not being afraid

- Despite what his blue wolf eyes meant you think there as beautiful as his green eyes (and you tell him)

- Him asking you to go on a date after you save him and Scott from there encounter with crazy alpha Peter

- Stiles not liking the idea

- Learning all about what happened to his family

- Hearing stories from before the fire

- Peter finding you intriguing because your not afraid of him and you make Derek happy

- Being there when Derek slices Peters throat 

- You and Derek being happy 

- Once he starts building his pack you notice it changing him

- Calling him a dick for the way he treats Isaac 

- (protecting Isaac because you and him have been friends since before his mom died)

- Hating the way Erica flirts with him

- Derek reassuring you that he doesn't feel anything towards her

- Helping Scott because Derek is being a cocky ass 

- Derek not liking it and getting mad so you tell him why and leave and then he feels bad

- Being there when Scott agrees to help Derek but on his terms

- When helping them Derek keeps trying to get you to talk to him but you just look anywhere but him

- Stiles telling him that he’s gonna have to make a big juster because him being a douche alpha made their connection very weak

- And he does do something big to get you back 

- Being there with him, Peter, and Isaac when they find the alpha pack symbol on the Hale house door

- Helping them search for Erica and Boyd

- Deucalion targetting you to get to Derek 

- Aiden and Ethan seeing why Derek likes you 

- Being there for him when Cora’s hurt 

- Being with Derek when the Oni put the backward’s 5 behind his ear, them doing the same to you 

- Staying at the loft, he say’s it’s to protect you

- Him being pissed about Dany’s party but saying one downfall to kicking the party out was not dancing or getting to paint you

- Him laughing when you tell him that after knowing there called Oni your still calling them ninja’s 

- Your parents being ok with you staying over at the loft 

- Your parents know about the supernatural, and believing Derek can protect you better there any way (they approve)

- Stiles well void Stiles try’s to come after you just as much as Lydia (because Stiles is really close to you just like Scott).

- Being at the hospital when the electrifying stuff happens

- Trying to run and save Isaac push him out of the way but Derek grabs you pulling you away from the water

- That night later at the loft Derek and you cuddle in bed he can tell your letting tears fall down your face

- Him trying to comfort you saying he’s gonna heal, everything is going to be ok

- Derek not knowing how safe it is at the loft for you when

- Scott telling him it’s probably the safest place for you

- Coming out of the school and seeing Aiden get  stabbed

- Derek seeing you coming up behind him and seeing Aiden dieing

- You being close to both twins (after they became good) so him comforting you about it

- Being worried the whole time he’s gone to Mexico

- Going with your pack/friends to Mexico to find him (and Kate)

- Watching over baby Derek 

- Which is weird for you

- Him hitting on you

- When he gets back to normal you tease him about how little him was so cute, and how he hit on you

- Him getting back at you by teasing you ;)

- You not letting him feel bad about letting himself get fooled by Kate again ( he was turned back to when he thought he could trust her, not his fault)

- When his name unlock’s the last part of the dead pool he confronts you

- Being scared when you find out because you don’t want him to die

- Him assuring you he won’t 

- Derek being afraid that losing his werewolf abilities will let him lose you too

- You assuring him you love him no matter what

- Thinking he died and Argent and Parrish comforting you: only for you to turn around and seeing him, naked, standing over Kate and seeing a very scared Kate

- Telling him he is a very handsome wolf-human and actual wolf

- Going with him for summer break

- Skyping and visits

- (when he comes back to help (season 6) )

- Running up and hugging each other when Argent smiles and moves a little bringing Derek’s into your view

- Burring your head into his shoulder when Stiles fibs about what happened and Derek corrects him

- Going with him when you all (the pack) go to find other wolf’s and save them and help them not get killed by the hunters (Monroes hunters)

- Protective hugs

- Protecting you 24/7

- Staying with him and surprisingly always cuddling

- Derek hugging you from behind all the time

- Resting his chin on your head (cause he’s taller)

- Him not caring that he’s a couple years older than you 

(and I could probably go on but I'm already at 75 - )

Masterlist

[chibipeachu]

Beauty & The Seven Foot Frame

Villain!Bruno X Reader

Chapter Twelve

In case you missed chap eleven

CHAPTER THIRTEEN OUT NOW

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The next morning y/n woke up confused, wondering where she was. All at once the events of last night replayed in her head.

Y/n walked over to her pillow and pulled out the vision. “You knew!” Bruno’s eyes widened as he realized what she held in her hand “y/n I can explain it!” y/n sighed and threw the vision on the bed “you knew we were supposed to get married! You knew and you still ignored me and were rude to me!” Bruno sighed and watched as y/n paced the room while talking.

“I was scared y/n!” y/n scoffed and looked at him. “And I wasn’t! This whole marriage I believed that we were in the same boat, experiencing marriage together but I guess I was wrong. Because you knew!” y/n walked over to him and pointed her finger into his chest.

“You knew this the whole time bruno!” Y/n felt her eyes get glossy. “I trusted you! I told you everything, and you promised that you didn’t have any secrets!” Bruno looked down at y/n who had mixed emotions of sadness and anger. “Y/n Listen, I was gonna tell you!” Y/n scoffed at him “Oh yeah when, on our deathbed Bruno?” he looked away from y/n who sighed and gathered her clothes and walked out of his tower. 

Y/n felt a tear roll down her face. She quickly wiped it away and got up from her bed and got ready for the day. Once she was fully dressed she walked out to her family's kitchen, where all of her family was except her mama, Veronica, and a few of her tios.

“Good morning everyone!” y/n greeted. Fernando, who was drinking his coffee, quickly spat it out upon seeing his sister back at their house. “What are you doing here?” He asked y/n as he wiped his mouth. “I’m-!” “She’s staying here for a bit!” Veronica said as she walked out of her and victor’s room.

“Y/n come help us then!” One of y/n’s tia’s said as she cooked breakfast. “Yes tia Gabriella!” y/n rushed over and helped her tias make breakfast.

“Buneos dias everyone.” y/n’s mama said flatly. A few replies of “morning” were said. Esperanza noticed y/n in the kitchen cooking with her tias “Y/n?” y/n tensed up and turned around to face her mama.

“Hi mama…” y/n knew the amount of questions that would be asked by her mama. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you with your husband and his family!” y/n saw Veronica stand up from her chair, ready to defend her younger sister. “I wanted to visit you all, I missed you guys!” y/n told her mama calmly trying not to upset her by her choice of words. Esperanza said nothing in return and just sat down for breakfast. 

After breakfast y/n went with her siblings to the bakery. On the way there y/n noticed it was very cloudy that morning. At the bakery y/n had been helping Veronica with the register. While the others got ready to open, y/n told Veronica the whole story of what had happened last night. 

“So he knew about you two getting married this whole time?” Veronica whispered to y/n as victor, alejandro and fernando walked by the sisters. “Yes!” y/n nodded at her sister. “What are you gonna do n-!” Veronica was cut off by the bell above the bakery’s door. “Ah y/n here these are for you mi cielito!” Dante handed y/n a big bouquet of flowers she liked as a child. “Oh um thank you dante! That’s very kind of you…” y/n gave him a forced smile and looked away.

Dante leaned forward and hugged y/n. Which caught her off guard. “If you ever need anything mi cielito just know i’m only across the way! Alright?” Dante held y/n’s chin. “Of course dante!” y/n moved away from dante.

After dante left the bakery victor and the twins started bursting out laughing and mocked dante “if you need anything i'm only across the way mi cielito!” Alejandro acted like he was Dante and victor acted as if he was y/n. Their jokes made y/n smile. 

Y/n joined in during some of the jokes throughout the day. Y/n laughed as she walked out of the bakery for her break, still thinking of a joke Veronica made. Y/n walked around the marketplace she had noticed two people arguing in an alleyway. Not wanting to be roped into whatever that was y/n just walked away and walked to her cousin’s shop they had where they sold fabrics.

“Hi prima!” Julio, one of y/n’s cousins, greeted her as she looked around the store “hi julio, how much is this?” y/n asked her cousin as she held up a dark green fabric. “Well since we’re related i’ll say one box of sopapillas!” y/n laughed and nodded at her cousin “alright it’s a deal, here hold my fabric please” y/n told her cousins as she walked towards the bakery to get a box of sopapillas “AND DON’T LET ANYONE TAKE IT JULIO OR I’M TELLING YOUR MAMA!” y/n playfully threatened her older cousin.

Y/n quickly grabbed a box and ran back to her cousin's shop. “Here tak- take it!” y/n said out of breath from running back so quickly. “Pleasure doing business with you, Mrs. madrigal!” y/n internally whined at her cousin’s words but didn’t show it on the outside. “Thank you julio!” y/n walked to her family's home and put away her fabric before going back to the bakery.

Y/n worked with her family in the bakery till it was time to close up. y/n had forgotten how tiresome it was to work at the bakery all day.

The five Riveras walked back home in time for dinner.  It was a typical dinner in the Rivera household, babies crying for food, brother and sister in laws trying to help their in-laws with dinner, tias gossiping, the twins fighting over a seat. It was official y/n had missed the chaos of the dinners.

Everything was okay til y/n had noticed her mama was missing from the table. She brushed it off thinking maybe her mama was tired and went to bed early. Y/n excused herself from the table where all of the riveras sat and gambled with each other.

Y/n walked to her room and decided to sew to keep her busy. She pulled out her supplies and got to work on making a coat for herself.

While y/n sewed her coat, A fuming esperanza came into her room and yelled at her. “DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO GET YOU ARRANGED INTO A MARRIAGE Y/N Y/M/N RIVERA!” y/n flinched not expecting her mother to yell at her. “WHY DID YOU LEAVE THE CASITA Y/N?” y/n looked down. “Because he lied to me mama…” y/n said quietly. Esperanza let out a deep sigh and rubbed her forehead and started pacing around y/n’s room. “Why couldn’t you’ve been like your sister? She had suitors lined up at the door! And look at you! I finally got you arranged and what do you do? You go and mess it up!” y/n felt a tear roll down her face.

Y/n put her head down as her mind kept replaying “why couldn’t you’ve been like your sister?” y/n looked up and saw her mama still ranting about her. “Why you! We have other Rivera girls who would be a perfect wife to her son…Why did they choose you!” y/n stood up and walked out of her room. As y/n walked out her room she saw her whole family listening.

Y/n wiped her tears and walked out of the house and walked around the now dimly lit up streets of the encanto.

y/n found herself at the river, where she had told Bruno everything and when they took the girls to get their energy out. Y/n sat down by the river and looked up and saw the stars shining. 

“Why me papa? Why couldn’t I’ve been like veronica?” y/n said as she looked up at the stars. She could feel tears falling down her face “Veronica has a good husband and a child! Then- then look at me I have nothing! I can’t seem to be a perfect wife for bruno…please help me papa!” y/n cried. 

Unbeknown to y/n a figure approached from behind her. 

Taglist ❣ (Open): @elfwoodfae @rhys-cosmos @diasnohibng @millyrious @slytherinxhunter @quiznakblue @cadet-m @rihoko-ack @mikalei @uselesssapphickitten @rennaisancebaby @savagenctzen @simpfortheratking @piscesarts @peachyistired @somanyminidragons @localdepressedvampire @psychadelichues​

A/N: I Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Please give me feedback on the series! I love reading everyones comments! And thank you all for being so nice about my writing! Ok that’s all I hope you all have a nice day/night <33