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rispwr · 20 days ago

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KNJ - short drabble (F,M)

contents : not detailed sex, joonie is a boob guy, jungkooks crush on namjoon joke mentioned, oc is shy, edits of namjoon.

pairings : idol! KNJ x fem! reader

wc : 1,3k

note : this isn't really an explicit sex like what i usually write nd stuff cuz i wrote this on my phone in the car and this had been sitting in my notes for a very long time so i wanted to show yall? also this was written back in may lmaooo

I was lying on the bed, casually scrolling through TikTok when I stumbled upon an edit of my boyfriend, Namjoon. Now, normally, I didn’t mind people editing and thirsting over him. because, well, I already knew he was mine, but this particular edit was different. It stuck with me.

It was crazy. One second, I was just watching it, and the next, I was saving it to my phone. Then, somehow, I ended up sending it to Yoongi.

Not long after, I was ranting to him like a lovesick fool about how hot Namjoon looked in the video.

Me: attaches 5 videos Yoongs: omygod y/n what the fuck Yoongs: why are you sending me edits of Namjoon Me: LOOK Me: DO YOU SEE THAT?? Yoongs: i know, i have eyes Me: is this real Yoongs: you’re just dreaming Me: stfu Me: can’t you believe it??? i’m fucking dating namjoon?? Yoongs: yes, you are Me: THE KIM NAMJOON? Yoongs: why can’t you just rant this shit to him instead? Me: it’s too embarrassing Yoongs: omygod i’m telling this to namjoon hyung Me: NO😭😭 Yoongs: i have to finish up doing my work. go talk to jungkook instead. he’ll definitely support you on that one Me: can’t Yoongs: why? Me: he’ll be the one obsessing over them instead Yoongs: omygod

I sighed, putting my phone down for a second before I heard the bedroom door creak open. My heart jumped when I saw Namjoon walk in, looking utterly exhausted but still ridiculously handsome. He immediately made his way over to the bed, collapsing onto me with a content sigh.

“Missed you,” he murmured against my chest, his deep voice vibrating through me. He lifted his head slightly, only to be greeted by my guilty expression.

“Why do you look like that? You’re scaring me,” he said, furrowing his brows.

I scrambled to turn off my phone, but instead of hitting the power button, I accidentally cranked the volume up. My heart sank as Namjoon’s voice boomed from the intro of the edit, followed by Pillowtalk by Zayn.

Oh, god.

Namjoon’s head snapped toward my phone. “What’s that?” he asked suspiciously, his lips twitching in amusement.

“Nothing!” I yelped, frantically trying to hide my phone under the pillow. But it was too late. The video was already playing, and his face appeared on the screen in all his edited, slow-motion glory.

Namjoon burst into laughter, his dimples on full display. “You were watching edits of me?” he asked, his tone a mix of surprise and amusement.

I opened my mouth to deny it, but no words came out. Before I could say anything, he suddenly flipped us over, making me squeal as I landed on top of him.

“Joon!” I gasped, but he just grinned up at me, his eyes sparkling with adoration.

“You’re unbelievable,” he teased, shaking his head. His dimples were still out in full force, and I couldn’t resist.

“I…” I pecked his dimple. “Love…” Another peck. “You.” One more peck for good measure.

Namjoon’s face flushed a deep shade of red as he looked up at me, his smile softening. He reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering against my skin. “You’re the most beautiful woman ever,” he whispered in English, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine.

The intensity of his gaze made my heart race. God, how did I get so lucky?

Namjoon's gaze darkened slightly, His fingers slid down my sides, brushing over my waist as though memorizing the curve of my body. His hands were firm but gentle as they gripped my hips, pulling me closer, his warm skin pressing into mine.

His lips returned to mine, but this time, the kiss was hotter, hungrier. His tongue slipped into my mouth, exploring me with slow, deliberate strokes that made me melt beneath him. His hand trailed back to my bare chest, cupping me gently, his thumb brushing over my sensitive skin. I gasped against his mouth, and he pulled back just enough to murmur, “That’s it, baby… let me hear you.”

I felt his words ripple through me, heat pooling low in my belly as his kisses grew bolder, trailing from my neck down to my collarbone. Each press of his lips was slow, intentional, as though he wanted to savor every moment, every sound I made. His hand slid lower, gripping my waist again, his thumbs rubbing slow circles into my skin as he whispered, “You’re so perfect, so soft…”

His lips reached the valley between my breasts, his breath warm and teasing as he glanced up at me. “You’re trembling,” he noted with a soft chuckle, his deep voice laced with affection.

“Because of you,” I managed to whisper, my voice shaky as I threaded my fingers through his hair, tugging gently.

His smile widened before he dipped lower, trailing hot kisses down my stomach, pausing just above the waistband of my panties. His fingers toyed with the fabric, brushing over my hips, and he looked up again, his eyes filled with nothing but adoration. “Tell me you’re okay, baby,” he murmured.

I nodded quickly, my heart racing. “I’m more than okay,” I whispered, and his smile returned, softer this time.

“Good,” he said, his fingers sliding under the waistband, slowly pulling the fabric down. Every movement was torturously slow, deliberate, as if he wanted me to feel every second of his touch. Once the last barrier was gone, he leaned back for a moment, his eyes roaming my body appreciatively, as though taking in every inch of me.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured again, his voice deeper now, rough with need.

“Namjoon…” I breathed his name, my cheeks flushing as I reached out to him. He let me tug him closer, his body pressing against mine once again.

When he pressed himself between my legs, I could feel just how hard he was through his briefs. The heat of him sent shivers through me, and I arched up against him instinctively, a soft whimper escaping my lips. That sound seemed to shake something in him, his hips pressing against mine as his lips claimed mine in a fiery kiss.

I tugged at the waistband of his briefs, my fingers brushing over his bare skin as he groaned softly. “Easy, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice strained but still impossibly gentle. “We’ve got all night. I’m not rushing this.”

He helped me slide them down, his arousal springing free, and my breath hitched as I took him in. He was perfect, just like the rest of him, and when he caught the way my eyes lingered, he smirked slightly. “Don’t get shy on me now,” he teased, leaning down to kiss me again, his hands bracketing my head.

As he lined himself up, his movements were slow, careful, his gaze locked on mine. “I’ll go easy,” he promised, his voice barely above a whisper. “Tell me if it’s too much, okay?”

I nodded, my hands clutching his shoulders, and when he finally pushed into me, it was impossibly slow, every inch sending sparks of pleasure through my body. He paused when he was fully seated, his forehead pressed to mine, his breath heavy and uneven. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his lips brushing mine. “So perfect for me.”

He started to move then, his hips rocking into mine in a slow, steady rhythm. Every thrust was measured, deliberate, as though he wanted to savor every moment, every reaction he drew from me. His lips found my neck again, kissing and nipping softly as his hands slid under me, gripping my hips to pull me closer.

“Namjoon…” I gasped, my fingers digging into his back as pleasure built steadily, overwhelming and all-consuming.

“That’s it,” he murmured against my skin. “Let go for me, baby. Just feel me.”

His movements never faltered, his pace unhurried but deeply passionate, and when I finally reached my peak, it was with his name spilling from my lips, my body trembling beneath him. He followed shortly after, his breath catching as he buried himself deep inside me, his body tensing before he collapsed against me, his arms wrapping around me tightly.

For a moment, neither of us moved, our breaths mingling as we came down from the high. Then Namjoon shifted, pulling me into his chest and kissing my forehead softly.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, his voice tender.

I nodded, a soft smile spreading across my lips as I snuggled closer to him. “More than okay,” I murmured, my voice sleepy but content.

He smiled down at me, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my back. “Good. Because I’m not done loving you yet.”

#rispwr #bts #bts x reader #namjooning #jungkook ff #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon fanfic #namjoon bts #namjoon x you #drabble

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aismoker · 9 months ago

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A real man keeps his word

By many of his friends, Tony's dad was regarded as the coolest. They thought he was cool with his leather jacket and his motorbike and not to forget, the ever present cigar in his mouth. And although Tony had a huge respect for him, he couldn't help it but to feel a bit jealous of his dad. It was as if his friends didn't really want to hang out with him, but rather with his dad. He wished more than once, that he could be as cool and manly as his dad.

One day, when he was around 15 years old, he thought he found the solution: smoking. It would be so cool to show up at his mates with one of his dad's cigars. He would get so many street creds for that. He imagined casually lighting it up in front of his friends, just like his dad did. To take a deep pull and let out a slow exhale. To hand the cigar to his friends and see how they would choke on the smoke... That would prove how badass he was!

Those images settled in his mind and over time he got more determined that he would do it. So, one evening, while his father was working on his motorbike, Tony walked into his father's study. He knew where to go. He had been plenty of times in that room. He opened the cabinet where his dad kept his humidor. He noticed how his hands were trembling in anticipation. He steadied himself and he opened the top of the humidor. Dozens of brown sticks seemed to look at him Tony took a breathe, he could smell the earthy aroma comong from the cigars. It was as if they were beckoning him. They invited him to take one. They were the key to everything he wanted. He only had to take one and he would become like his dad. Cool... strong... a man.

For a second, he hesitated. He would be stealing from his dad. His dad had always been good to him and he had always given him anything he wanted and he would reward him by being dishonest to him. It was wrong. Yet, the urge to take a cigar was stronger.

Tony moved his hand towards the cigars. He picked one up. A fewling of euphory washed over him. Soon he would be the cool guy... the guy his mates looked up to... the guy- "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING, SON?" his father said in a loud voice.

Tony snapped out of it. There he was, his hand still in the humidor. He was literally caught red-handed, like a child with his hand in the cookie jar. He felt his cheeks turn red. There was no point in lying. "I... I wanted to try one of your cigars, dad." "And why would you want to do that, son?", his dad asked. "I... I don't know... I mean it looks so cool... so manly... I mean, look at you! You smoke and drive your bike everwhere. You are the coolest guy in town... and... and...," he stumbled over his words. He felt so bad. "... and you thought that by smoking cigars, you would become a man?" his father finished the sentence, "Let me tell you this, son, smoking doesn't make you into a man, nor does driving a motorbike. Hard work, honesty and keeping your word... Those are the things that make real men." Tony could hear how disappointed his father was. He wanted to cry. "I am sorry, dad. I will never try smoking again!" His father saw how sorry his son was. In a softer voice he said: "I believe you son. Let's make a deal, you and I. If you work hard, be honest and keep your word and you don't start smoking until you are 21, you will get biking lessons as a reward." Tony, knowing that this was his way to redemption, promised it immediately.

From that day onwards, a change came over Tony. He used to be a bit of a slacker, but now he always gave his best. He worked hard in school and even though he was not a star student, he was always content with his grades, knowing that he gave it his all. Over the years he also was never caught lying. Always being honest was hard at first, but over time it gave Tony a confidence that he never imagined he could have. As for smoking, the temptation was always there, especially when several of his friends started smoking, but whenever the temptation became too strong, he just remembered the words of his father. "Hard work, honesty and keeping your word... Those are the things that make real men." He didn't do it because of the biking lessons. That was a nice bonus, but he really did it, because he wa ted to become a man, like his dad.

His father saw how his son had changed and he was proud of him. He was becoming a real man. He knew that several of his friends had started smoking, but he knew in a way that only fathers can know, that his son hadn't broken his word. He knew he could trust him.

So, on his 21st birthday, Tony got biking lessons and a few months later, he got his license. As he walked into the garage to tell his father the good news, he was astonished. For a moment he thought he saw double. Next to his dad's bike stood another bike. His dad came from behind, "Surprise, son." Tony was dumbfounded. His dad laughed. "You think you are up for a ride with your old man? I might know a thing or two that they don't tell you at those biking lessons." A grin appeared on Tony's face. "Of course!" "Great! Put this on!" His dad gave him a leather biker jacket. In less than a second, Tony had put the jacket on. There was something off, though. There was something in the inside pocket. He put his hand in and to his surprise he took a cigar out. "But... I thought... you always said... that cigars don't make you into a man." His dad grinned, "True son, but by working hard and keeping your promisses, you have shown that you ARE a man. The cigar is just a symbol for that." Tony walked up to his dad and embraced him. The recognition from his dad was the best gift he could ever receive.

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A few months later, at the outskirts of town, two bikers stop at a parking place near the river. They take off their helmets and enjoy the fresh evening breeze. Almost in tandem their hands reach into their inside pockets, where they remove a cigar. As the older guy lights his cigar, the younger fumbles in the pockets. Once the cigar of the older guy is lit, the other ask: "Hey, can I use your lighter?" The other one grins, "Did you forgot yours again, son? It seems that there is still a lot your old man needs to teach you." Tony smiles as he lights up his cigar. He had become quite the expert.

The two men sit in silence, enjoying their cigars as they look into the sunset.

#smoking men #cigar #cigarman #cigarsmoker #ai smoke #story

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bjhlvr · 4 months ago

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iced coffee

synopsis! being a regular customer means that you know every single employee at the campus’s coffee shop. but what if one day you walks in to get your usual iced latte and met the new employee.. oh! and he's cute too..

BARISTA! leehan x COLLEGE STUDENT! reader GENRE! fluff, university au, non!idol au, stranges to lovers(?) TW! reader is obsessed with iced latte, she/her used, reader being called a girl, leehan is a bit flirty NOW IS PLAYING! . . iced coffee by red velvet

you were obsessed to say at least. you needed it. it felt like your life was depending on it. you couldn’t survive a day without iced latte. doesn’t matter if it was freezing cold ans snowing outside or it was extremely hot, you needed that iced latte.

you knew every employee at the campus's coffee shop. you knew the ones that already quit the job, even the owners. a cute old couple who always asks your opinion about new menu, the shop design and even worker's uniform. you were the best regular customer. you could get the same order twice or three times a day, you knew everyone and sometimes was ready to help the barista's.

your classes ended at 12am so it was finally a time to get your iced latte. you walked to the coffee shop, opened the door and get inside.

“you're late today.. classes?” sungho, the guy that was working at this place since the day it opened, looked at you and smiled slightly. he was always so kind and polite, when you first saw him you thought at least ten customers were asking for his number per day. but you was suddenly wrong.

“yeah, i had to take this sociology class i was telling you about the last time..” you walked towards the counter and leaned on it with your hands. you sighed tiredly and watched as sungho was already about to do your regular well-known order but stopped. you raised an eyebrow, who was he waiting for?

“hey donghyun! go make an order for our regular customer” sungho yelled for the dong-whatever-his-name-is so he could hear him from the employees room.

you watched as the door opened and the guy coming out.. oh! he was.. cute? damn no he was attractive as hell.

“the iced latte girl?” the guy asked and you blinked twice before you could look away right when he looked at you. you tried to avoid his gaze in her. “it’s nice to finally meet you” he said and walked right to the coffee machine to make her order.

“so you heard about me?” you asked with a slight smile on your face. it was nice knowing that the employees and owners of the shop talked about you in a good way. “feeling like a celebrity now”

“yeah sungho and miss han talked about you. a lot actually.” the guy chuckled when he was already finishing your drink. sungho then punched his shoulder to shut him up and stop talking before he could say anything he shouldn’t. “im donghyun by the way. or you can call me leehan” he said and handed you your iced latte. “one iced latte for our best customer” leehan smiled. his smile was so pretty.. his smiley eyes.. so cute. wait.

“thanks.. im y/n” you smiled back and walked to the table right infront of the window. the shop was empty so it was basically you, leehan and sungho. the place was quiet and you suddenly felt awkward, which is strange because you never felt like that there. not even when the place is empty. not even when you spilled your drink on yourself. not even when you did it for the second time.

“so, y/n.. you have a boyfriend?” leehan asked. you almost choked with your own saliva when you heard this question leaving his lips. why would he even ask that? was he interested in you? or he was just flirty?

“can you stop making our customers feel uncomfortable, go find something more worthy to do..” sungho rolled his eyes at leehan when he chuckled and looked at you. your eyes widened, mouth slightly open. “let her drink her coffee in peace”

“okay okay, whatever” leehan said and before he could walk away to the employees room you finally had found a strength in yourself to talk.

“no, i don’t. wanna go out or something?” you asked. you wasn’t expecting the second sentence leaving your mouth but those words slipped out of your tongue so easily, so you couldn’t help it.

“sure” leehan smirked and quickly wrote his number on the napkin and walked towards her table to give it to her. “then call me” that was the last words he said before he disappeared in the employees room.

“that’s it..? he just gave me his number and told me to call him?” you were amused by leehan’s behavior. you never thought he would act like that and you never met someone like him. that was… interesting. maybe exiting?

“yeah he’s a bit weird.. good luck” sungho patted your shoulder gently to cheer you up or whatever he meant by that and sat down on the chair next to you. “so.. what are you gonna wear?” he asked.

author note: lol that’s my first work in english & my first fic in like 7 years? so i hope yall enjoyed and i did great bc idk how i feel about this one BUT im kinda proud of myself that i wrote this ૮��◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა also pls let me know if i did some grammar mistakes / or tips how can i improve!!

#୨ৎ ⋅ 妮卡's work #leehan x reader #boynextdoor #leehan imagines #bnd imagines #bnd x reader #kpop #kpop drabbles #kpop idol

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quantum1mmortality · 1 year ago

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leans into the mic ... period sex with kenshi ..... ? /nf

blind or not, either works; do what you want, comrade i j- i just need him very badly PFFJNRHJFJ

here's a pic of your favorite pookie shmookie wookie bookie boo beekeeper btw (wheezed typing it but i am, in fact, putting respect on his name bestie)

Oh em geee

How could I resist when you add such a breedable pic of pookie shmookie wookie bookie boo of who is also a beekeeper???? I simply cannot

I've been kind of into Kenshi as of recently,,, most fics with him are poly with Johnny and that's cool and all but Johnnys just not for me 4 realz

Tw/cw: AFAB reader, blind Kenshi it's relevant to the plot, you guys are dating but it's only mentioned like twice, humongous blood kink(it's Kenshis), pet names (princess, beautiful), smiley Kenshi, he's just happy to be there, probably incorrect sento usage, finger fucking, cursing, piv, pwp ish, reader is embarrassed bc period blood smells, Kenshi is a man tho so he doesnt care

Not proofread get over it

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Kenshi has always been a loving and compassionate person. Given that you're his girlfriend, he's shown a side of himself that he's shown very few others. He's a man who loves date nights and taking things slowly just as much as he loves doing things in the heat of the moment.

Period sex was something he was more than willing to do. If he thought he could help your pain by outweighing it with pleasure, he'd be on his knees in mere seconds. As much as he loves seeing you squirm underneath him, he'd be more than willing to just cuddle you until it was over. At the end of the day, the choice was always yours.

He couldn't help but want to take you in those moments, however. Something about you bleeding for days on end did something to him. While he knew that you must hurt, your cramps have been killing you all day and you can't walk because of them, some part of him just wanted to have your blood dripping from him as he made love to you.

In short, dating you was how Kenshi realized he had a blood kink. It's mild to the point he doesn't think about it often, but when you're on your period, he practically goes insane. All he wants to do is be near you, to touch you, all that good stuff.

Kenshi wouldn't even realize he had a blood kink for the longest time. He'd be so overwhelmed by the feeling of his hands and cock covered in blood and practically getting high off the smell he couldn't focus on anything but finishing. It was only until later when he was laying in the bath tub with you that he'd realize that he's never felt like this with anyone, just you. He'd eventually come to the realization that period sex gets him so turned on because of his blood kink and ends up embracing it more.

That being said, when you got the news Kenshi was blinded due to a series of unfortunate events, you had spent sleepless days and nights waiting for him to come home.

And he did.

It took you both a while to get used to his new living condition, but you made it work. Since one of his senses got removed, this meant his other senses were heightened. Taste, hearing, touch, but most importantly, smell.

His sense of smell got much stronger than he'd expected, he could smell practically anything, but he had specifically made it a point to familiarize himself with your scent. Your perfumes, body wash, shampoo, just you in general. He made sure he knew what you smelled like, that way he knew it was you.

So when you got on your period, he could tell before you did. You and him were sleeping together, cuddling as usual. He woke up first and upon waking up, he was hit with a smell he hadn't noticed the night before. It was a familiar one, just much stronger than what he's used to.

He was practically stunned. He didn't really know what to do, considering you guys haven't done much since his premature blinding. He felt like waking you up, telling you that he needs you as he began to feel the familiar feeling of his cock straining in his boxers.

But he resisted. He had to, would you really want to be woken up over this? He was able to watch you slightly through sento, being mounted on your wall in front of your shared bed, he could see you both decently enough. You didn't show any signs of movement, nor signs you were awake.

He could feel your soft breaths puff onto his collar bone as he could feel his cock twitch. He could feel you shifting in the bed as he watched you through sento. He could see you were starting to wake up, and cuddled into his chest more.

You placed small kisses on what he thought was your face (it was the top of your head but don't tell him) as you woke up more from the feeling. Your small giggles filled the room as you playfully pushed back, locking him into a sweet kiss before laying your head next to his.

"Morning Kenshi," was all you currently had the strength to say. "Morning beautiful" He replies back with his usual smile. He always loved calling you pet names, specifically in the morning, so this wasn't out of the usual.

What was unusual, however, was his heavy breathing. It was slightly faster than usual, and specifically through his nose... You found this odd, obviously, and you began to think about what could be different. It was obvious enough that he was soaking in your scent, he always has, but nothing was out of the usual. Nothing that you knew yet, at least.

You had thought back to last night when you and Kenshi had bathed together, you always had taken showers and baths together, but due to the fact he can no longer see anything, you've decided to help him with such. You used the same body wash, the same shampoo, conditioner... Nothing that he hasn't smelled already.

Then, it hit you. You were on your period. Of course you were, your body just had to choose the worst possible time for you to get your period. You internally sigh as you now understand why Kenshis been acting odd.

Kenshi could see you contemplating through sento, he could see how embarrassed you were. He felt bad for thinking such dirty things, maybe he shouldn't have been feeling like this, but he couldn't help it.

It wasn't that you were embarrassed by the fact you were on your period, it was that fact that he had an enhanced smell now. You knew that Kenshi was into period sex, it's just you thought it'd be embarrassing with the smell. You sigh aloud and get disappointed in how your precious pair of panties that you liked oh so much now have to be period panties.

Kenshi knew that you were upset by this, he just didn't know what to say. Should he come out and just say how the smell turned him on? It smells like you, just, enhanced. That's what he liked about it. It smelled like you, the pussy that he'd give his life for, THATS what he was into.

"I'm- sorry. It must smell bad-" he cut you off.

"It doesn't. It smells like you. Not your hair products, not your perfume, you. It's amazing to be able to know what you smell like, this is just enhancing it. I like it, honestly."

Although sweet, it was weird. You just didn't exactly expect a man to understand this sort of thing. You felt somewhat relieved, just a bit weird about the situation. He could tell by your facial expressions that you were. He took your hands in his and continued speaking.

"Your scent, knowing you're here with me throughout everything I'm going through, it brings me comfort. You bring me comfort. Knowing you're here, next to me, fills me with a joy you wouldn't believe. So no, waking up to the scent of you would never disgust me."

How poetic. He pulled you into a small kiss, relishing in how amazing you taste. He could smell a small bit of arousal form in you, panties getting some how wetter as he puts his thighs between your legs, prodding at your heat.

You whimper at the feeling, opening your mouth slightly in the process. Kenshi takes this opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring it as he felt you grind on his thigh.

His hands unclasp themselves from yours as he took one and dragged it to your panties. Slipping his hand inside, he can feel the heat radiate off of your pussy, practically begging him to touch you. He gathers your wetness on his fingers, pushing one inside you as his thumb plays with your clit.

You moan out and break the kiss in the process. You lay your head next to his as your breathing became harsh, gripping the bedsheets as he continued his motions. "God I wish I could see you, I know you look beautiful like this." He bit his lip as he could feel you clench from the praise.

He slips in another finger and earns another moan from you. Kenshi could feel his cock twitching in its confines, begging to be inside you, but he needed to wait till you were properly stretched. You, however, had different plans. You could see the tent in his pants, and you were practically drooling over it. You placed your hand on his bulge, Kenshi lets out a surprised moan from it.

"Princess,, you're goin' to make me cum if you touch me like that. Good girls keep their hands to themselves, yes?" He questioned you as he continued his pace of finger fucking and clit rubbing.

You try your hardest to stifle your moans, but your back arching to the feeling of Kenshis fingers curling inside you wasn't something you could ignore. Your chest pressed against his as your soft hand squeezed his forearm.

Your whines and begs for release made Kenshi go faster, making you cum harshly in his fingers. He placed his fingers in his mouth, swirling his tongue around them and letting out a moan at the taste.

"Delicious as always, you treat me so well." He laughs as he climbs on top of you. He takes off his boxers and you make quick work of stripping yourself as well. He gives his hard cock a few strokes, he can feel you staring at him as he does.

"Look what you do to me princess, all for you." He gives you a cheeky grin before aligning his tip with your opening. He pushes himself inside you at a slow pace, taking in how your walls cling to him.

As he began to thrust into you, he could feel your blood painting his lower abdomen. He felt lightheaded as he could smell you on himself, small droplets of your blood fell down his thigh and he can feel himself cumming.

Luckily, he can control himself. Not when it comes to thrusting into you, though. Kenshi hooks both your legs onto his shoulders, his hands place themselves on your waist as he lifts you up enough to where his thighs are below you, keeping you elevated at all times. Hes thrusting into you at a high pace, high enough for your body to be shaking with every thrust but not enough for you to be overwhelmed.

His harsh pace continues as his hands angle you slightly lower, making him repeatedly hit your g-spot. You cry out his name and your hands fly to his head, tugging on his hair as he feels himself get closer.

"Close- Kenshi- I'm so-" you moan again as his grip on your waist tightens. Kenshi has to use sento to see you, but luckily, he was able to move the sword to a different position. He was able to see just how painted he was- how you both were painted in blood. His hips begin to falter as he gets lightheaded with pleasure once again.

He was also lucky enough to see your back arch as your head fell back in pleasure, coming on his cock in the process. "You did so good for me princess, I, ugh, I'm goin' to cum so hard for you," and seconds later, he lets out a deep groan before collapsing onto you, cum leaking out of your now abused hole.

It took you both a few minutes to get your breath back. Once you did, you just laid with each other for a bit. As you played with Kenshis hair, he rolls over, exposing his lower abdomen to you.

"You're covered in blood." You giggle out. Using sento again, he was able to see himself. He was actually, and within seconds he had turned back to you.

"Up for another round?" He asked with a smile.

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A/n: to everyone who's been using my asks to say they appreciate my fics and the videos I use for headers, I love you. Except for that one person that said size kinks were disguised pedophilia, please stay far away from me

#mortal kombat smut #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x reader smut #kenshi takahashi #kenshi takashi x reader #kenshi smut #kenshi x reader smut #kenshi takahashi smut #mk kenshi #kind of hate this fic but oh well ig

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ovenbakedbones · 8 months ago

Text

JASMINE!

chapter 1 !

pairing : mafia!yoongi x (eventual) str!pper!reader

genre : romance???? mystery? smut??

summary : yoongi cant help himself but investigate the mysterious girl who only sings one song a night at his friends strip club

note : this is my first fic and i havent really planned this?? hope its good tho lmaooo

thank you for all the likes and the reblogs <3

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chapter 1 :

taking another puff of his cigarette, yoongi ignores the calls and texts that flood his phone from his right hand man, Kim Namjoon. he’s late to a meeting and he knows it, he just doesn’t care. he’s tired. he’s been working non-stop for the past few weeks and he needs a stress relief.

the white lotus.

yoongi is not usually a fan of strip clubs. he doesnt need to pay for a woman’s attention, it comes naturally to him. but his close childhood friend, Kim Seokjin, who is a bartender there, has been talking non-stop about how high-end the girls are and how classy the place is compared to your usual run-of-the-mill strip club. so here he is, stood outside of a small building disguised as a restaurant with a small sign that reads ‘the white lotus’

he puts out his cigarette and sighs, running his hand over his slicked back hair and straightening his suit jacket before entering the dingy, dark building. he walks confidently to the back of the ‘restaurant’ and nods at the security who recognises him immediately as Agust D, one of korea’s highest ranking mafia members. the security opens the door behind him without question and bows as yoongi walks in and heads down the stairs. he hears the quiet hum of slow and sensual music and the bright overhead lights begin to dim down and change to red and purple hues.

when he reaches the bottom of the stairs, yoongi is greeted with the sight of of luxurious couches and chairs surrounding strip poles and stages where businessmen drooled over the girls who danced in front of them, throwing their cash at the stage without a second thought. yoongi walked straight past them and further into the club, also ignoring the lap dances and private rooms that no doubt cost a fortune. he ignores the men and women that smile prettily at him, attempting to entice him into paying for their company and failing completely. yoongi doesn’t stop walking until he reaches the bar that was almost completely empty.

seokjin sees him immediately and comes to greet him.

“you know, most people don’t come to a strip club to sit at the bar”

yoongi rolls his eyes and says simply “whiskey, no ice.”

seokjin smirks and puts his drink down in front of him, which yoongi takes immediately.

“don’t you have a meeting to be in right now?” seokjin asks while cleaning some left over glasses.

“needed a break, namjoon’s been on my ass ever since last months raid” yoongi says gruffly, downing the rest of the whiskey before pushing the glass back at seokjin.

“i’ve been telling you for weeks that you needed a break, why now?” jin asks while refilling his drink.

before he can answer, a beautiful, blonde woman dressed in emerald green lingerie approaches the two, resting her manicured hand on yoongi’s bicep while smiling flirtatiously.

“seokjin, why haven’t you introduced me to your handsome friend?” she purrs, looking him up and down.

jin smirks, his eyes tracing her figure for a second too long “jen, meet my good friend, min yoongi”

yoongi turns his head to fully look at her, scoffing when her eyes flash in fear when she links his name to his signature scar.

“otherwise known as Agust D” seokjin finishes

yoongi is used to people fearing him, it just doesn’t surprise him anymore. most people in Korea know his name and has heard countless stories about what he’s done. everyone sees him as a villain, and hes fine with that. he used to like seeing the physical affect that he had on people when they recognised him. how their smiles drop, their eyes widen and their hands start to shake. now he’s just bored of it.

she’s pretty though. she’ll have to do.

“come on then” he sighs and starts to walk towards a private room, he doesn’t bother turning around, he knows she’s following.

the other thing Agust D is known for is being incredibly hot, and he knows it.

before he reaches the private room, the music in the club changes abruptly and he notices how the men immediately turn their attention from the beautiful women in front of them to the unused stage, that was now lit up.

“whats going on there?” he asks jen, not tearing his eyes away from the stage lit up in red, a now visible silhouette of a woman in the centre which made the customers cheer excitedly.

“jasmine’s about to perform” jen smirks and gestures towards an empty chair in the centre of the room. “you might want to watch this”

yoongi narrows his eyes and sits in the chair, noticing how even seokjin and the rest of the staff stop what theyre doing to watch the show.

you stand by the microphone as the lights brighten and reveal you to the audience. wearing a long black dress that enhances your figure and the signature red lipstick that paints your lips, you seductively glance over the crowd. it’s mostly the usuals that come to hear you sing so you dont bother to make eye contact with anyone for too long so you stare at the back of the room as the music starts to play.

one of the girls - the weeknd ft jennie + lily rose depp

lock me up and throw away the key

he knows how to get the best out of me

im no force for the world to see

trade my whole life just to be

yoongi is entranced. along with the rest of the crowd. he’s certain no one notices the 2 dancers on poles that are on either side of you, why would they? you’re too captivating. its not often you see a fully clothed woman in a strip club, but your aura was enough to reel everyone in. the club chatter had stopped completely as your melodious voice filled the room and yoongi couldn’t focus on anything but you.

give me tough love

leave me with nothing when i come down

my kinda love

push me and choke me til i pass out

he watches as your hands slowly snake up the microphone and run down your body, briefly touching your neck before releasing and looking out at the crowd again.

yoongi swears his heart stops when your eyes meet his. you seem amused at how star struck he no doubt looks and you keep staring into his eyes as you continue to sing and smirk at him.

to you, you’re just harmlessly flirting with another business man, you can barely see his face, its just fun to see the effect that you have on men. it’s almost too easy.

push me down, hold me down

spit in my mouth while you turn me on

i wanna take your light inside

your gaze remains stuck on him and yoongi is too entranced to feel smug that he has all of your attention while dozens of men beg for it. he tries not to blink, worried that you’ll look away if he takes his eyes off of you for even a second. luckily for him, you didn’t.

your eyes start to adjust to the light and you get a better look at the mysterious stranger who you’ve been eye-fucking. you can make out his slicked black hair and upturned eyes, his spread legs and his hands that are clasped together. yeah, he’s pretty hot. maybe you should have more fun with teasing him.

you lightly tilt your head and smirk as you narrow your eyes while your fingers twist around your hair, you completely ignore the men whose eyes rake over your body and focus on the stranger who couldn’t tear his gaze away from your eyes.

we don’t gotta be in love, no

i don’t gotta be the one, no

i just wanna be one of your girls tonight

we don’t gotta be in love, no

i don’t gotta be the one, no

i just wanna be one of your girls tonight

yoongi doesn’t bother to regain his composure. he doesn’t care that he’s one of the most intimidating men in korea. he doesn’t care that he can feel his phone vibrating in his jacket pocket. he doesn’t care that anyone in this club could recognise him and ruin his reputation. all that matters is that, in this moment, he has all of your attention. and he knows that he wants you. and what yoongi wants, yoongi gets.

top of the world but im still not free

its such a secret that i keep

until its gone i can never find peace

brace my whole life just to be

yoongi is sure he could listen to your voice for hours.

he’s never been so affected by a simple gaze before and it gives him a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he pushes it away so he can focus entirely on you.

the song begins to die down and cash is thrown onto the stage but yoongi still cant look away from you. you finally look away and with the dancers help, start collecting the heaps of money on the floor and tuck it into your stocking, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by yoongi.

he waits for the next song to start but furrows his eyebrows when the lights turn off and you abruptly leave the stage, the crowd dispersing and the regular shitty club music starting up again.

yoongi decides that the only music he likes now is what he hears from you.

he stands up quickly and makes his way to the bar as quickly as he can.

“aren’t you joining me in the private room?” jen tilts her head at him and places her hand on his arm once again

“fuck off” he grunts and pulls his arm away from her without looking, making a beeline for seokjin, who is currently talking to a customer.

“i want a room with her” he interrupts, glaring daggers at the customer who leaves immediately once recognising him.

“who? jen? she’s over there” seokjin shrugs

“not fucking jen. jasmine.”

seokjin smirks and gets yoongi another whiskey “sorry man, she doesn’t do that”

“i’ll pay extra” yoongi ignores the drink and stares down his friend who seems amused by this.

“trust me, many men have tried before. no matter how much you offer, she’ll decline”

yoongi scoffs and crosses his arms. “let me meet her. i’m sure she’ll change her mind”

jin sighs “i think she leaves out the back door when she’s done with her song, you can try that”

he turns around immediately, shoving past the men that were crowded around the stage which was now occupied by a dancer and pushes through a door that reads ‘backstage’

he ignores the dancers that tell him he isnt allowed to be there and he spots jen. “where’s the back door?” he asks abruptly, ignoring the looks that the dancers are giving him.

she raises an unimpressed eyebrow and nods towards a transparent door which he immediately pushes through, finding that it leads into a back alley.

he looks left and right, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to spot you, which proves useless. he sighs and leans against the wall, taking out a cigarette and lighting it when his phone begins to buzz yet again.

he takes a puff of his cigarette and picks up the call “namjoon, i dont give a fuck that i missed the meeting. i need you to find someone for me.”

#bts #kpop #yoongi #yoongi x reader #fanfiction #bts fanfic #suga #agust d #bts suga #kim seokjin #jin #namjoon #rm #bts x reader #bts smut #mafia bts

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cynic-spirit · 5 months ago

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someone insults yn

Steve Rogers had faced down rivals, betrayed friends, and taken on entire organizations without blinking an eye, but nothing stirred the rage inside him like someone disrespecting Y/N. She was his world, the only person who could calm the storm that raged within him, and anyone who dared to insult her was making a grave mistake.

The day had started off simple enough. Steve and Y/N were out shopping, something she enjoyed doing when they had the rare chance to spend time together outside of his demanding, dangerous world. Steve usually didn’t care much for shopping, but he loved seeing her happy, so he tagged along, letting her lead him through the boutiques and stores.

They had wandered into an upscale shop, one of those places where the price tags were tucked discreetly out of view, and the salespeople looked down their noses at anyone who didn’t fit their idea of luxury. Steve noticed the way the saleswoman’s eyes skimmed over Y/N dismissively the moment they walked in, but he let it slide at first, thinking nothing of it.

Y/N, always gracious and polite, had picked out a few items to try on and asked the saleswoman for a dressing room. That’s when Steve caught the sneer on the woman’s face as she glanced at the clothes Y/N was holding, then at Y/N herself.

“If you ask me,” the saleswoman said, her voice dripping with condescension, “these are a bit too... sophisticated for someone so plain.”

The words hit Steve like a slap to the face, his vision narrowing to a tunnel focused solely on the woman who had just insulted his wife. Y/N’s expression faltered for a moment, her confidence wavering, and that was all it took for Steve’s protective instincts to surge to the surface, rage boiling over.

He stepped forward, his presence immediately commanding the room. The saleswoman, oblivious to the danger she was in, looked up, only to shrink back at the sight of Steve’s icy blue eyes locked onto her with a cold fury she’d never seen before.

“What did you just say?” Steve’s voice was dangerously low, each word a warning. He towered over her, every inch of him radiating a menace that made the air in the room feel thick and suffocating.

The woman’s confidence evaporated instantly, her face going pale as she realized who she was dealing with. “I-I didn’t mean—”

“Yes, you did,” Steve cut her off, his tone sharp as a blade. “You insulted my wife.” The words were laced with a promise of consequences that made the saleswoman tremble.

“Mr. Rogers, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize—” she stammered, her voice shaking now as she took a step back.

But Steve wasn’t interested in her apologies. His focus was on Y/N, who was looking down at the clothes in her hands, clearly affected by the insult. He reached out, lifting her chin gently so she’d meet his gaze, his touch soft and reassuring, a stark contrast to the hard edge in his eyes.

“You are anything but plain, sweetheart,” Steve told her, his voice tender and full of conviction. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Y/N gave him a small, appreciative smile, but Steve wasn’t done. He turned back to the saleswoman, who was practically cowering now.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Steve said, his tone like steel. “You’re going to apologize to my wife. Then, you’re going to call your manager and tell them you’ve just lost one of their biggest customers.”

The woman opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She was too frightened to do anything but nod, her hands shaking as she hurriedly apologized to Y/N, stumbling over her words.

Steve’s glare didn’t waver until the woman finished, and then he added, “And if I ever hear of you—or anyone else in this store—treating her or any other customer like that again, you’ll wish you had never set foot in this place.”

The saleswoman could only nod again, her eyes wide with fear as Steve led Y/N out of the store, his arm protectively wrapped around her. As they stepped back onto the street, he glanced down at her, his expression softening.

“You okay?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

Y/N nodded, leaning into him. “I’m fine. Thank you, Steve.”

He kissed the top of her head, his anger ebbing away now that she was in his arms. “No one talks to you like that. Not while I’m around.”

Y/N smiled up at him, warmth in her eyes. “I know. And I love you for it.”

Steve tightened his hold on her, determined to keep her safe from anything—or anyone—that dared to bring her down. In his world, respect wasn’t just demanded; it was enforced. And when it came to Y/N, Steve Rogers would make sure she was treated like the queen she was, no matter the cost.

#steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #mafia steve rogers x reader #mafia steve rogers #mafia steve #mobster steve rogers #mobster au #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x you #steve rogers #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x yn #mob steve rogers x y/n

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justmystyles · 1 year ago

Note

hiii i was lowkey being my delulu self and have a request!! since the daylight mv literally just came out imagine plus size reader being one of the backround circus women and the both of them just being all cutesy!! like harry being all cheery for her over the stunts or stuff like that.

also love love love your writing!! its amazinggggg!!!

Lights, Camera, Action

read my other work here

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 2k

summary: what was supposed to be just another job becomes the start of something new.

a/n: so i'm not great at being on the ball with the topical requests, it's all about the tour ending right now, and here i come rolling in with a daylight fic. at this rate, i'll get to my end of tour fics by the time Harry gets back. 🤣

any who, thank you so much for sending this ask, my friend! i hope you like what i did with your idea!

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @lexiecamposv @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

You were seated on the ground stretching as you talked with the other girls, wondering what the day would hold for you. You had been hired as a background performer in Harry Styles’s new music video, and you weren’t quite sure what to expect.

You arrived at a makeshift circus camp, animals and various other performers scattered about. Immediately ushered to the wardrobe trailer where you were fitted for your costume, a baby blue bejeweled leotard with a matching feather tail. While the wardrobe team made their slight alterations, you moved on to hair and makeup where your hair was set in loose curls, the front pieces pulled back. And the makeup artist piled on blue eyeshadow, and a thick cat eye, finishing the look with a bright red lip.

And now, here you were, preparing for your first shot. With your legs extended in front of you and bent into a front fold, you heard someone clearing their throat. Assuming it was the director, you rushed to stand. “Sorry, I was just doing some last minute str–” Your words die on your tongue when you find yourself face to face with Harry himself.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, I just wanted to introduce myself.” He said with a smile as he extended his hand. “I’m Harry.”

“Hi Harry, I’m Y/N.” When your hands touched, it was as if everyone around you disappeared. You had never felt like that before.

You suddenly remembered you were at work, and needed to maintain your professionalism. You reluctantly pulled your hand away, your eyes flitting to the ground. With your eyes locked on your sliver boots, you didn’t notice the dreamy look in Harry’s eyes as he studied your features.

The rest of the dancers stepped in to introduce themselves to Harry. You moved back allowing them their moment, but you couldn’t help but notice that his gaze would travel your way often.

After the last introduction, he was just about to say something to you, but was called away by the director to start shooting. He smiled at you once more, and made his way to the strong man setup. You and the rest of your group were lead off to the side so that you were out of frame, and you watched as Harry started filming his first scenes.

When he was finished, he made his way back to you and your group as the crew moved on to solo shots of some of the other background performers. The other girls were telling him how wonderfully he did, and trying to engage him in conversation. He thanked them for their kind words, but walked past them to get to you.

“How’d I do?” He asked, leaning against one of the trailers.

“You looked good.” You closed your eyes in embarrassment, realizing what you had said. “I mean, you did good… er, well. You did well.” You immediately covered your face with your hand.

Harry chuckled at your flustered state. “Thanks,” he leaned down, speaking softly in your ear. “For both compliments.”

Before you could say anything else, the girls were calling you over to get ready for your scenes. While you were grateful that you wouldn’t have a chance to embarrass you further, you were disappointed to have to walk away.

They started by shooting each of the girls individually, having you stand on a small riser and dance to the track. As each of the girls took their turns, you saw that Harry was being brought into a few of the takes, and you were starting to get nervous. This was your job, you hadn’t been nervous in years, but there was something about having Harry there that gave you butterflies.

You were the last of the dancers to go. You stepped up to the riser, and Harry was standing there waiting for you. “Saved the best for last I see,” he said with a grin as he offered you his hand to help you step up onto the platform.

You smile shyly, thanking him for the gesture, and stepping up preparing yourself for your solos. Taking a deep breath, trying to push out the thought that all eyes, including Harry's, were on you.

The director had Harry step out so that they could take some shots of you first, allowing them to get an idea for how you moved. This would help Harry understand the best ways to move and interact with you.

The music kicked on, and the director called action. In that moment, you let the music take over, and began to move to the beat, using some of your best moves. Your eyes traveled briefly off to the side and saw Harry watching on intently, often cheering or whistling when you’d pull out a particularly difficult move.

After you did a few takes on your own, and a couple more with Harry, who was more than happy to jump in. You found him interacting with you more than he had with the other dancers, so much so that the director had to tell him to focus less on you, and more on the camera. You noticed a faint blush in his cheeks when he was called out.

The director called cut on your final take with Harry, and he helped you step down off the podium. “You were great, you’re an incredible dancer.” He gushed.

“For my size, I know.”

Harry furrowed his brow. “For anyone.”

“Sorry,” you shrugged. “That’s usually the second half of the complement, I assumed that’s where you were going.”

“It’s not a compliment if someone says it like that.” He tells you, you shrug again. “You’re an incredible dancer. Period.”

It was your turn to blush. “Thanks,” you mumbled.

“Anytime. Hey, I have to go do a couple of shots over there,” he signaled to the area on the other side of the set. “Do you want to come watch? I did hang around and watch your takes.”

You giggled at the goofy expression on his face. “Sure, sounds fun.”

As the day went on, you tagged along with Harry as he did different shots around the set. He had even pulled you into a couple with him. At one point, Harry did a quick wardrobe change into a yellow jumpsuit.

When he returned, he went straight for you doing a dramatic spin and pose for you. “What do you think?”

You gave him an appraising look, eyes traveling from head to toe. You rubbed your index finger and thumb over your chin as if you were deep in thought. “I suppose it will be fine.”

He burst out into laughter. “High praise.”

After a couple of shots, you and the other dancers were called back for another scene with Harry. The premise was that he was walking past your group, who were rehearsing, and it turns into a chase scene as he tries to escape the clamoring women.

Before long, the director was calling a wrap on your group. Harry took a moment with each of the dancers, thanking them for their time and taking a few pictures, each of them returning to wardrobe to change and head out until it was just you and Harry.

“Thank you so much for this opportunity, Harry. Today has been a lot of fun.”

“Then I think you should stay.” He said, your eyes going wide at the invitation. “If you want to, I mean.”

“Am I allowed to do that?” You ask, sure you would just be in the way if you outstayed your welcome.

Harry shrugged. “It’s my video, if I want you to stay then you can stay.” He studied your face, noticing that you seemed conflicted. “Come on, it will be fun. I’m about to take a crash course in horseback riding, and then we could grab some lunch.”

“Have you ever ridden a horse before?” He shakes his head. “Wow, so this quite literally could be a crash course.”

He chuckled, his expression quickly growing serious. “Wait, can you crash a horse?”

“I guess we’ll find out.” You state plainly.

His expression grew hopeful at your words. “So you’ll stay?”

“I’ll stay,” you tell him. “I just need to go change really quick.”

“I do too, I’ll walk with you to wardrobe.”

The two of you made your way to the wardrobe trailers, and changed. You also took the opportunity to remove the caked on makeup that had been done earlier in the day, and throw your hair into a quick ponytail.

Harry met you just outside the trailers, his eyes going wide when he saw you. “Yeah, me without makeup, pretty terrifying.” You joke.

“No, you’re beautiful actually.” He said. “Why do you do that?” You give him a questioning look. “You speak down about yourself a lot. Especially when I compliment you.”

Your face contorts, feeling a little uncomfortable at being called out. “I don’t know, I guess I’m just not used to genuine compliments.”

Harry smiled and flung his arm around your shoulder. “Well stick with me kid, I’ve got plenty for you.”

The rest of the day seemed like a dream, you were by Harry’s side practically the whole time. You laughed and joked together as he took his brief riding lesson. You enjoyed lunch together, just the two of you, where you spent some time getting to know each other. And then after lunch, you stood off on the sidelines as he continued filming. He would have you watch playbacks with him and ask your opinions, genuinely interested in your answers and feedback.

Before you knew it, they were calling a wrap on the video. Harry asked you to meet him in his trailer, as he wanted to take some time to go around thanking the crew. You obliged, and headed back to the production area, making your way to Harry’s trailer, where you took a seat and scrolled through your phone as you waited.

When you heard the door open, you looked up to see Harry saying a couple more goodbyes before stepping into the trailer. He smiled the second he saw you. “You stayed.”

“You asked me to.”

“I know,” he shrugged, taking a seat beside you. “But I left you here for a bit longer than I planned, I was afraid you would have given up on me.” He studied your face briefly, building up the courage for his next question. “So listen, I’m only in town for a few more days, but I uh… I would like to take you out on a date before I go.”

You smiled through your shock. Sure, you guys had been having a great time together, but you had heard how flirty he was by nature, so you just assumed it was a friendly thing. “I would like that a lot, actually.”

“Excellent!” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to you. “Here, give me your number and I’ll give you a call tomorrow to set something up.”

You smiled softly at him as you took his phone, your fingers brushing ever so slightly at the hand off. After entering your number, you hand the phone back to him.

“Great.” He smiled. “I’ve gotta go change into my regular clothes real quick. If you don’t mind hanging out for another minute, I could walk you to your car.”

“Sure,” You reply. He smiled, and the two of you sat silently for a moment. You notice some kind of conflict in Harry’s expression, but you’re unsure why. “Were you going to change now, or…” You say, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, right. Sorry.” He stood up and started walking to the back of the trailer. He stopped when he got to the door and paused for a minute. Without warning, he turned around, walking back up to you and leaning down, placing a chaste kiss on your lips. “Sorry,” he said bashfully. “I’ve been thinking about doing that most of the day. I guess I let my intrusive thoughts win.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, waiting for your reply.

“No, it’s fine. You’re fine.” You stutter, taken aback by the kiss. “It was nice.”

Harry broke into a wide grin before rushing back to the other side of the trailer to finally change. As you waited, you sat there with a dreamy smile on your face, thinking about how this was the best job you’d ever been booked on.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles headcanon #harry styles fluff #harry's house #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry edward styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic

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yxstxrdrxxm-a · 11 months ago

Text

SYNOPSIS: Perfection lies on the eye of the beholder. Or, in this case, in the hands of an alchemist who dabbled in sculpting.

TW/s: yandere behavior, Albedo is a bit of an impulsive bastard, abstract in writing, nsfw tws includes usage of drugs, odd materials, dollification, toxic relationship. Please dni if you are uncomfortable.

NOTE FROM HR: Happy Valentine’s Day! If you asked Albedo, he had nothing to gain to be able to celebrate an occasion such as this, but it seems you guys have been together for months. I wonder what he has in store to celebrate this day with you, hm?

Albedo is what many would say is never considered to celebrate Valentine’s Day. If you ever told him what that occasion is like, he would simply tell you the meaning and not what he truly thought about it. After all, that is normal for many to expect, right?

Well, that is what the old him would’ve thought, but he had a lover now. One that understood him, and the person that seemed to look at him like he was someone to be cared for.

To be fair, he and Kendall are what people would say that are polar opposites. He was stoic and hard to approach, but to the likes of Kendall, he simply showed sides of him that he wanted her to see past.

Why? It was simply because the two shared the same ideas and bonded well. Thus, for the alchemist, he thought it simply made sense to do that.

One of those was when they picked up a book that he had seen and he told Kendall if she was aware. Although she wasn’t, the time they spent together deciphering and discussing the contents of the book when they read it together was nice. He had never been interested in reading anything but scholar-approved journals, so picking up something light with her had been an interesting perspective.

There was one thing that he remembered so clearly—in the passage of the book, ‘Challenger Deep’, he remembered asking her how she felt with the narrative being shifted so often. He recalled how many were speaking of how difficult it was to follow them, like they couldn’t figure out what was happening.

Her words caught him by surprise, though.

“It’s not that bad when you think about it. After all, the story is focused on the boy, so if they can’t follow what’s going on, that’s their problem.”

It was then that he realized just how different they were. And Gods, he was absolutely not letting this opportunity go.

So, he began to speak to Kendall more. He began to look into what she thought of certain topics, books, and even past those with art forms as well. But in the midst of it, he found himself feeling more and more attached to her.

It was a strange conundrum. He didn’t understand the feeling at all. It felt… Foreign.

He didn’t like that.

What was stranger yet was that he saw her profile in the MixMatch app. He had been on it for months since he needed more funds for his projects, and it was the easiest way for him as he had been scouted by the bigwigs of Celestia Inc, so to see her in there and the profile she has set up was a curious coincidence.

Now, any sane person would’ve simply ignored her profile and scroll past to the next one, but Albedo is no foolish man. Nay, he wanted to see just how far he can go when he managed to match with Kendall and see how deeper their relationship could become.

With one swipe, they were both matched up by the app. Just like how history led them to be tied together since day one.

After that time, the memories became a tad bit fuzzy for Albedo to remember. It had gone through so many changes: from the time they were finally together, then the small celebrations they hosted, and even their first kiss. It was almost sweet with how Albedo tried to be accommodating and loving to Kendall, but there were times that it was difficult.

Love is difficult for him. But he has his ways to show that to you.

Such a shame that one of them led you to the situation he’s facing right in front of him.

Standing in front of the somewhat finished sculpture he made, he found himself… Strangely at ease. His expression remained unchanged, though, but the sight of it made him internally smile. It was something that he himself can live on proudly.

In a weird way, it made him feel a bit human. It was perfect for him.

Granted, the materials he made was not something he can get right away. It had to be curated, picked by hand, and he needed to make sure it fit his vision. One slight and it would’ve been thrown away, discarded like a child’s toy when they’ve grown old to even touch it anymore.

He was a picky man. He wanted what’s best for him and his lover, and he had dedicated himself for far too long to be able to back down now.

Raising a hand, he gently swiped it across the cheek of his muse, his eyes softening. The feeling of smoothness meeting his bare fingers sent tingles in his spine, tracing it ever so closer to their eyes and lips, and even drifting to their neck. There were a few blemishes, sure, but it was fine—it looked close enough that he was able to modify it to make it look authentic from the naked eye.

He spent 6 months working on the statue before him. His life’s work, he coined as such. He had always wanted to express his feelings to his lover if they’ve stayed for this long, and even then, he wanted to give it to her as his memento for the occasion.

Looking down, he hummed in satisfaction at the placement of the props he curated. He made sure that the statue had the finest of jewelry hung on their body, its hair and clothing pristine as he first found it, and he gave extra care to spots he saw that weren't perfect.

The dust that was left from his smashed previous attempts and frustrations are all but swept away, hidden from anyone that dares to enter his workshop.

Grabbing the cloth next to him, he lifted it up and tossed it on top of the statue’s head, gently letting it flutter down to the ground. He didn’t want anyone to see it, and he made sure that every spot of that statue he made was covered to a T.

“... It’s perfect,” he whispered, looking down at the time and the pendant. “Now, I need to give this to her tomorrow morning. I must get some rest.”

He has a busy day tomorrow, after all.

Heading up to Kendall’s apartment, Albedo caught sight of his lover. Although there were bandages wrapped around her head and other parts of her body, he gently tapped on the door; a small greeting for her to hear, not one that may be too disruptive for someone who’s in recovery.

As her head turned and the two saw each other, the sculptor smiled.

“Greetings. Still trying to decipher the book, are you, Kendall?”

The latter blinked, the cogs obviously turning before he saw her nod with a gentle smile. “Yes, I wanted to know why I’m drawn to this book,” she answered him, making him hum and walk closer to her. Pulling up a seat, he glanced at the cover and the contents to see what she was reading.

“Challenger Deep… I see. This book can be quite tricky to understand,” he comments, his hand reaching to the cover. “However, you can try and read it later. I have something to show you at my house, Kendall.”

Closing the book, the blonde looked at his partner, smiling ever so gently with how she lit up.

It was different. So different from the reaction she’d give him, and it sometimes made him feel like he was dreaming. Alas, he isn’t, and he knew that to be the case for him and Kendall. After all, he made sure it wouldn’t come to light.

“Let’s go. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

Grabbing her hand, he grabbed the book and placed it on the table, keeping it closed. Leading his lover out of the living room, he helped her get her shoes and make some bits of conversation between them. He didn’t wish to make the mood tense, but it seems that she’s beaten him to it.

Albedo is never this talkative to anyone. To him, speaking takes a lot of his energy, and he is never fond of the idea. Though, with the one he’s with, he never found the idea revolting nor exhausting; she reminded him of Sucrose, minus that she’s a lot more outspoken with her thoughts to the alchemist.

It was an amusing sight: a man who refused to speak more than he had to, paired with a woman who loved to speak to those she found close with.

Their journey down to his apartment was as quick as he remembered. He kept a tight grip of Kendall as they went out and about, telling her that she must stay close, lest someone would see her and bring either of them trouble.

He knew why it must be done. People may still be out to look for her, and he didn’t want to risk anything to happen to his beloved.

Still, the real surprise came when he managed to reach his home. Pulling out the keys, he pushed one in and turned it, unlocking the door and letting her enter right inside his abode. Though, he found himself looking back for a moment.

It was strange. He swore he felt eyes pierce through him, but…

…

It must be nothing, he thought. No one would ever dare to follow me.

Turning back around, he entered the house, the floorboards creaking under his feet as he closed the door shut. He could already hear noises from inside his house, but he paid it no heed as he simply walked through to find where she ended up.

The soft thudding of boot meeting the floor echoed, and even the soft creaks didn’t deter him as much as it had used to.

He was used to it. It was his only home, after all.

“Albedo?” he heard a voice faintly call out. “Albedo, what is this?”

Ah, she’s found it.

“I’m right here,” he answered, entering his studio and watching as she stood in front of the now uncovered statue. The light began to shine and give the features more clarity, laying bare to what the two can see without a moment to lose.

The statue before the two had parts of themselves that had been sculpted by hand and blade, the skin color being the same as the one Kendall had with a few stitches and blemishes that Albedo wasn’t bothering himself too much to clean up. The attire had been commissioned by someone he knew, as it accentuated the statue’s body from head to toe.

The eyes remained closed as the hair was cut to her hairstyle, but there were some obvious patches and discoloration that shows its original color, which was something different entirely.

The face is what caught her by surprise, however. She had expected it to look like it was the same as hers, or even a human being’s face, but it was just patched with makeup and rough cuts. It was far too eerie to even put it to words, but Kendall can only look at it and then turn her gaze to Albedo.

He made this, did he? So why did this happen? Why is it made to look like an abhorrent abomination?

“I assume you like it, do you?” he asked her, his face still holding that same smile as he went closer to her. “You must be. After all, I’ve wasted blood, sweat, and tears over making this for you.”

It seems that’s all the answers they need from him.

“Don’t you think it’s perfect, too?”

@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2024

#💌 ;; message delivery #💌 ;; from: albedo #💌 ;; to: armin-ocean-eyes #💌 ;; promising letter: one last call #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere gi #genshin impact #genshin #gi #yandere albedo #yandere #yandere writing #yandere text #male yandere #albedo #genshin impact albedo #genshin albedo

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rogerswifesblog · 1 year ago

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1 - The Devil I Desire

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

A/N: Hi! This is my first Stucky Series and I hope you’ll like it. Tbh Steve is a dick in this one (at least in the beginning) and it won’t be Peggy friendly either. Also, READ TGE WARNINGS, it’s important since it’ll later on contain still like age gap, cheating and other rather controversial stuff.

Here’s the first chapter! Have fun reading!

And a big thank you to @jamneuromain who helped me with the idea and especially some things later on in the story…(especially some extra drama👀)

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated ❤️

Pairing: silver fox Steve Rogers x college student Bucky Barnes

Chapter summary: first meeting after a disaster….just leading into another one.

Warnings: age gap, alcohol consumption, past trauma

Bucky wanted to get wasted. Like, really get wasted. His tinder date was once again a total disaster and right now he just wanted to spend a fun evening with his best friend (preferably by getting wasted).

> waitin at the bar < Bucky texted Wanda, while sipping at his second tequila sunrise, scrolling through Instagram. All those happy couples annoyed him, posting all those cute pictures together. Why couldn’t he have this? Why couldn’t he be in such a cute relationship too?

He wasn’t even picky. He just wanted someone who didn’t hate cats or wasn’t a serial killer. (Tho he’d probably be able to look past the second part. As long as nobody hated his dear Alpine everything should be fine.)

Bucky definitely didn’t want anyone like today's date. He hadn’t felt this bad in a long time, really. First he had already suspected the other guy to be very egotistical and vain. Turned out to be the truth.

But after Bucky pulled up his sleeves from it being too hot in the restaurant? God, that’s where it all started to go downhill.

From the first moment where his scars were on display Bucky could feel his gaze on them, interested in a way, but mostly disgusted.

Just…

He couldn’t describe the vibe the other guy was giving him.

It made Bucky feel like…like an animal at the zoo, in a way. Everyone was looking at him. Judging for something he couldn’t change.

So after faking a family emergency he left his date and decided to text his group chat about wanting to go clubbing tonight. And getting drunk.

Very, very drunk.

Unless he’d find a hot guy to spend the night with. Then he’d rather remember it.

“Bucky!”, Wandas voice sounded close to him, even with the loud music killing every sound existing. Sometimes he was surprised how loud Wanda could be if she wanted to. Especially since she was always rather quiet. “Are you okay?”, her arms wrapped around his waist, hugging him from behind. “Hi, Wanda”, Bucky smiled tiredly, leaning a bit into the hug, sighing,

He explained to Wanda what had happened and why he was in such a bad mood. She was understanding, especially since she knew how much it took Bucky to carry himself with the confidence he did now.

Wanda hugged once again after Bucky finished the story, finishing the tequila sunrise.

After a while also Clint and Pietro came to the bar, both of them immediately ordering shots.

“So, tell us what happened and how drunk we wanna be tonight?”, joked Pietro, the accent strong on his tongue, especially now after already having drank some beers with Clint before they came to the club too.

Bucky chuckled at that, only giving Pietro one exhausted smile before explaining the whole story once again to both him and Clint. Just like Wanda they understood how Bucky felt.

While complaining to his friends he hadn’t even noticed the lingering gaze of a middle aged man, watching Bucky as he sipped from his tequila.

Steve sat with Sam in the corner of the club, having a whisky on ice in his hands and only partly listening to whatever Sam was trying to tell him. It was hard for him to hear what he said and he also couldn’t really concentrate on him when his eyes were glued to the younger man’s lips wrapped around a straw.

Then he looked back at Sam, noticing he had stopped talking. “Can you repeat anything of what I’ve said?”, Sam raised his eyebrows, laughing when Steve lowered his head, clearing his throat. “I’m listening…?” “Sorry, I was in thought-“ “yeah, yeah, watching someone out of your age range. At least if I’m correct about you looking at the guy with the manbun at the bar. I’m jot even sure if he’s out of high scho-“ “of course he is. He’s in a club. Drinking alcohol. He’s at least 21”, argued Steve, already slightly Offended.

He may like younger partners than himself, but he’d never be interested in someone who’d be below 21. If he had to be honest with himself he’d rather meet with people closer to thirty than twenty, but this young man definitely didn’t seem like mid twenties.

It broke his heart to imagine he couldn’t spend the night with him, but he was definitely too young…on the other hand, it’d be just for one night.

But he also couldn’t be too sure if Mr Man-bun would even want him. Who knew if he’d be into older men? Even though Steve kept himself fit and took care of his appearance, he couldn’t hide the graying hair in his beard, the gray strands in his hair and the few wrinkles that were already covering his forehead the more he furrowed his eyebrows. Or the little crow‘s feet from all the laughs in his life.

Sighing he looked into his Glas, noticing how some of the ice had already melted, making the alcohol watery and less enjoyable….which was a good reason to go to the bar and- “don’t think about it-“ “already did it”, Steve answered, standing up and walking over to the table, purposefully stopping next to his object of desires. Who was alone. His friends were on the dance floor while he was drinking something light blue again.

“Isn’t that a bit too much for one evening?”, Steve chuckled to the young man, after ordering himself a whisky. The young man quickly finished his drink, sipping from his straw. His lips wrapped around it so nicely, as he sucked the liquid…god, Steve, keep it in your pants.

“You get me another one and I’ll stop after that”, he said flirty, winking at Steve.

So Steve was game. A smirk crept onto his lips as he called out to the bartender to get the young man the same drink as before. This time a double.

“I’m Bucky”, the young man introduced himself, holding out his hand for Steve to shake, which he did. “Steve Rogers. Nice to meet you.”

Hm, the name Rogers sounded familiar to Bucky's ears, but he ignored it.

Instead he was already looking forward to meeting this attractive man, “so…what are your plans for tonight? What are you gonna do?”

Hoped You. Was Steve's First thought but he kept his mouth shut. “I’m not sure yet…I think I’ll finish this drink and go home”, he shrugged, not being able to keep the smirk hidden.

Bucky felt like he should immediately tell this gorgeous man he would leave this place alone but…he was never one for one night stands. He actually never had one, hell, he never had sex with someone, he only had his cock sucked a couple of times or did it himself. The closest thing he had to a one night stand was when he rubbed off a guy in the toilets of a bar on a first date. Afterwards the guy never talked to him again.

He decided to be honest.

“I’d be lying if I’d say you wouldn’t be going home alone even though I’d love to say it but…I’m not that kind of guy. I mean-I really want to know what you’re hiding beneath those clothes because your shoulders seem wider than the doors but…-“ “hey, hey, don’t worry, we can just get to know each other, talk a bit…we can go back to mine and just leave it at a conversation”, Steve smiled even though he had definitely intended the night to be different.

But he was good with his words. And he knew it’d work out to his favor.

It wouldn’t be the first time anyway.

So he wasn’t surprised to see Bucky texting his friends he wouldn’t be home for the night as they were leaving the building together.

Thank you for reading! I’d appreciate some feedback ❤️

What do you think why Bucky knows Steve’s surname?👀it’ll be important later on….👀

Taglist: @ozeriterchick @guiltypleasureisfun @ayronren (I’ve decided to tag some people that had reblog the series summary and might be interested! )

All posts taglist: @rogersbarber

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mordenheim · 3 months ago

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No, we’re not doing that

Dr. Evelyn tea, a rather buxom blue mouse was carefully measuring out lengths of thin wire for her lab partner, Morghanna to solder into place in the over-sized beam emitter they were currently working on. The blue-haired Calico carefully took each color coded wire in her claws and deftly tacked them into place with her soldering gun. Giving a soft purr of satisfaction she turned to nod at Eve and carefully closed up the side of the device.

Their little lab assistant, Keykito, sneaked into the lab, giggling softly to himself. Creeping over to a switch on the wall, the yellow nimbat flicked it, causing the overhead lights to take on a greenish hue. He smiled and closed his eyes, basking int the glow, feeling the energy soaking into him, his lab coat tightening over his body.

Evelyn blinked as she looked down at herself. She felt the front of her blouse pulling tighter over her prodigious chest. A button shot off of her top, ricocheting off of the table and hitting the poor feline next to her right in the eye! She let out a yowl, clapping her hand over her eye as Evelyn stomped over towards the little nimbat, the floor echoing a little louder with each step as she flicked the switch off.

She leaned down over her assistant and poked him in his chest fluff. “No, we're not doing that!”

Shaking her head, she walked back over to Morghanna, reaching out to comfort the kitty and trying to pry her hands away from her face so she could get a better look at her eye. She clucked her tongue off of the roof of her maw and shook her head.

“I keep telling you. This is why I always wear eye protection in the lab. I swear you're going to end up with an eye patch like Victor.”

Keykito, in the meantime, had crept up to the beam emitter that they had just finished working on. Pulling a screwdriver out of his pocket, he popped open the shielding that housed the energy source for the device. He stifled a giggle as he saw the pale blue crystal starting to glow and vibrate. He ducked under the metal table, out of sight and out of mind.

The next thing he knew there was a blinding flash and a shout, followed by the sound of shards of crystal scattering everywhere. From his perspective below the table, he saw two sets of paws slowly starting to swell and stretch across the floor. Knees slowly rising out of sight past the edge of the table as the cuffs of the ladies' pants rose away from their ankles as the cloth began to tear. The seams strained mightily before giving way with a series of loud POPS! He could hear buttons scattering across the metal table top followed by gasps of surprise and shouts. The two ladies argued with one another for a few minutes. Evelyn tuned towards the table, her paw slowly growing across the floor towards Keykito! He scrambled back from the swelling, stretching toes and almost ran into Morghanna's bulging, fluffy paw!

Suddenly, Evelyn's voice rang out high overhead, “Hold on, Where's Key at?”

Huge hands gripped the table, lifting it up and out of the way. The two huge and growing women glared down at the tiny nimbat who looked like he wanted to melt into the floor, both from embarrassment, and because this was something he'd dreamed of over and over again. Huge, slender hands grabbed for him, dragging him out of his hiding place.

Giving a little bit of an evil grin, they pinned him between their growing bodies. Sitting down on the floor, swelling hips and thighs were shoving sensitive equipment out of the way, crushing some of it against the walls. Finally the two stopped growing when they nearly filled the room together. Keykito gave out a soft churr of delight, his little wings fluttering behind his back!

Barely kept decent by a few scraps of cloth, the cuddled their little assistant, petting and nuzzling him, giving him every bit of attention that he dreamed of and craved. Then, Morghanna picked him up, giving him a playful nuzzle and kiss. Evelyn leaned down to give him a smooch as well before stretching her long arm across the lab to retrieve a push broom. Shoving the tool into his hands, she gave him a little evil grin.

“Well, since you decided you wanted to do this, even after we told you no. Then you get to clean up all of this mess.”

His ears wilted as he took the broom, looking up at the two of them.

Morganna grinned down at him, “But, if you get finished before we shrink back all of the way, maybe we might have a fun little reward for your hard work...”

The two ladies shifted around in the wreckage, getting onto all fours, giving the little nimbat quite the view and a lot of motivation as the two of them crawled across the room and carefully squeezed their way through the huge double doors.

#fictober24 #giantess #growth #furry #cat #mouse #calico #nimbat #macro

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deadmenandthedivine · 1 year ago

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DEAD MEN § the DIVINE

chapter two: a father’s praise

Maetilda Targaryen, First of her Name, was supposed to be many things. What she became was entirely different.

table of contents

trigger warning!!! this fic contains many graphic topics and depictions. such as but not limited to: dead parents, abusive parents, toxic family systems, incest, medieval misogyny, forced marriage, threats of assault (sexual § physical), actual assault, imprisonment, kidnapping, murder, blood/gore, uxoricide, familicide, PTSD and other neurodivergence. i will do my best to update as i go along, but please let me know if i have missed anything!

word count: 4020

Upon arriving at her chambers, her heart warmed at the familiar sight of Ser Eddrin Tollett guarding her door. He had been sworn to her since the royal wedding of Princess Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor, when she was merely a single year in age. He had been one of her mother’s knights, telling her once that he and her mother grew up together as he was a ward at Runestone in his youth. He had squired for her mother’s brother before his death. Ser Eddrin was perhaps the most noble knight there was. Princess Maetilda breathed a sigh of relief as she came face-to-face with him. He smiled down at her warmly before greeting both her and Prince Jacaerys at her side. It was hard for Maetilda to contain her joy around Ser Eddrin. She smiled widely at him as if he were a father to her. His presence brought her a deep sense of peace and security that she had felt all her life. For as long as she could remember, he had been diligently and dutifully at her side. The knight’s sandy hair had grayed over the years. His face had scruffed and wrinkled. Regardless, it never lost its familiarity. His warm brown eyes never lost their gleam. The crows feet next to his eyes always dug deeper when he smiled. His laughter never lost its brassy bark. Now in safe hands, Prince Jacaerys bid his stepsister adieu, bowing to her politely before excusing himself to his chambers. Ser Eddrin opened the chamber door for the Princess to enter, which she immediately did.

“I will let your maids know it is time to get you ready, mi’lady. Ser Gunthor will be your escort to dinner. He’ll switch off with Ser Wyllam in the night.” the knight informed her briefly.

The Princess nodded in appreciation, “Thank you, Ser Eddrin. I hope you rest well. This place is…”

“Compensating for something?” He tried to finish for her.

She nodded, “Keep your eyes and ears open, will you?”

“Not to worry, mi’lady. They always are.”

“With the Velaryons too.”

“Of course.”

Without another word, the door was shut and the knight’s footsteps echoed off down the hall. Even while alone, Maetilda could not shake the tense feeling from her shoulders. She tried to roll them, reach her arms around and massage them, but nothing seemed to help. She felt like a sitting duck. She paced in the orangely decorated bedroom. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Nothing seemed safe. Part of her felt shameful for thinking her father was exaggerating his disdain for the Hightowers all those years before, but she could no longer deny it. They were in the middle of a wasp nest in a high tower. Soon enough, there was a knock at the door and two handmaids scurried inside. They both curtsied and smiled softly at her. They reminded her nothing of her handmaids back at Dragonstone, who had stayed home with their families. The taller one was broad shouldered and curvy. She had to be around five and ten years of age. She was dark blonde haired, beige freckles dusted her nose. She had amber brown doe eyes that screamed with hesitation and uncertainty. The shorter one was boney and sharp-featured. She had to be around seven and twenty. She had curly dark brown hair and piercing dark eyes, with a far more determined and self assured gleam. They wore the same uniform, but they somehow looked entirely different just in the way they stood. The younger slouched while the older stood pin straight.

“Good evening. It is lovely to meet you both. What are your names? Will you be serving me for our entire stay?” Maetilda tried to smile as if nothing was wrong, but she couldn’t help but feel like she was asking too many questions.

“Yes, we’ll be here the whole time, Princess. I’m Noarysa. This is Adelyn.” The older one stated with a reassuring smile. The younger one nodded next to her.

“Was it some sort of demotion to have to serve me?” The princess attempted to joke.

Adelyn giggled, but Noarysa quickly pinched her side, “Not at all, Princess.”

Maetilda could not help but frown at the older maid’s actions. She hated that they were expected to be so stiff all the time, especially behind closed doors. Regardless, she gave a slow nod, “Very well. I’m thinking about one of those cascading updos that the Queen used to wear when I was younger. Do you remember what I’m talking about, Noarysa? Get it out of my face and off my neck, but I still want it curly and long. With braids, of course! Like a true Valyrian.”

Just like that, the two maids went to work. The princess’s silver honey hair was decorated with braids that pulled the front out of her face. The three, four, and five strand weaves circled around her head, some of them serving to lift the rest of her hair off of her neck. Allowing the bulk of it to cascade down the back. The style showcased the thickness and length of her hair, as well as her curls. Yet, Maetilda always appreciated the functionality of it. Noarysa and Adelyn were masterful braiders. They worked quickly and eagerly. The uncertainty in Adelyn’s eyes slowly melted. After the princess’s hair was done, Adelyn oiled, perfumed, and powdered her while Noarysa went over to Maetilda’s unpacked wardrobe. Maetilda watched as she thumbed through her gowns with a pensive look on her face. Noarysa pulled out a wool burnt orange gown with a squared neckline, long batwing sleeves, and bronze runes embroidery. Maetilda could still remember the look on her father’s face when she had it commissioned. He grumbled about it for days, but the princess insisted that she needed to display pride in her house as heir to Runestone — whether she had been to the keep since she was a babe or not. Sers Eddrin and Wyllam had selected the specific ruins themselves.

“Do you know what these symbols mean, Princess?” Noarysa looked pained as soon as she realized her thoughts had slipped out her mouth.

Maetilda giggled before admitting, “No, my knights do, but they won’t tell me. They want me to read about them myself. But I have such a hard time with books, my thoughts are too loud.”

“Forgive me, Princess. But could you not command them to tell you anyway? They are your knights.” Adelyn responded.

“If I did, that would ruin the fun of it. They enjoy teasing me too much.” The princess smiled in admission, “That dress is perfect. Good pick, Noarysa.”

“‘Thought the orange would suit the little bit of blue on your eyes.” Her cheeks tinted pink.

“I think we’re going to get along quite well over this coming fortnight.” Maetilda smiled brightly.

“It’s in the details!” Adelyn interjected, “That’s what Noarysa always likes to say.”

The three girls giggled together as they worked together to dress Maetilda. The burnt orange dress had many bronze buttons, and Adelyn was overjoyed to decorate the princess in stacks of bronze jewelry — rings, a necklace, bracelets, hair pins, a belt with dragons and tourmaline stones. They kept her shoes simple as they could not be seen beneath the hem of her gown, but Adelyn wrapped a bronze anklet around the right shoe’s ankle for good measure. Maetilda thanked the girls before she dismissed them and stared in the looking glass one last time. Her reflection made her smile. The girls had done wonderfully on her hair. With her head held high for the first time since arriving to King’s Landing, the princess exited her room.

Ser Gunthor Stone stood on the other side of the door, just as Ser Eddrin had said. Ser Gunthor was born in the same year as Maetilda, a bastard son of the master-at-arms at Runestone. When they were six and ten, he left his father in the middle of the night to seek out the princess he had been told so many stories of in his youth. He had arrived at Dragonstone in a fishing boat. Sers Eddrin and Wyllam recognized him immediately, stating the resemblance to his father was uncanny. The knight had dark auburn hair, a sharp jaw, and eyes that had a ring of sage green around the pupil and a darker hazel ring on the outside. His eyelashes were long and mesmerizing. His stubble was a lighter ginger when he didn’t shave. His lips were pouty and pillowy, the top one fuller than the bottom. He was tall and built like an ox. The princess would be lying to herself if said she didn’t find him attractive. The knight was utterly beautiful. She smiled at him and began to feel hot as she thought that perhaps she had been staring at him for too long.

“You look ruinously beautiful, mi’lady. Get it? Ruinous, runes.” Ser Gunthor teased.

Maetilda laughed, “Yes, I got it! It ruins it when you explain the joke.”

“My apologies,” Ser Gunthor smirked, “‘Didn’t think you laughed hard enough.”

Maetilda giggled more before half-heartedly scolding her sworn knight in a whisper, “You best hold your tongue, you oaf. You have to be careful around the wasp nest. Best behavior.”

“Of course, mi’lady. From this moment onward.” He smiled.

“Shall we go?” The princess teasingly rolled her eyes.

The corridors were like a maze. The princess found herself utterly lost as the knight more or less led the way to her parents’ chambers. She wondered how he could possibly know his way around, but she didn’t want to risk more jokes and teasing. They passed by too many other lords, ladies, and servants on their path, and the princess did not want to risk their whispers lest they overheard something they did not understand. Thankfully, Ser Gunthor had always been good at following instructions. She kept her head held high and her back straight as they walked. Her family was to be a symbol of unity and excellence. Princess Rhaenyra had warned them correctly. There were two guards on each side of the door when they reached the future Queen’s chambers. They bowed upon her arrival, knocked, waited for a response, and then each opened a side of the double door. Ser Gunthor bowed to Maetilda as he was to wait outside for her. With a curt nod to the knights, she entered the bedroom.

Inside, the fireplace was lit as well as several candles on every surface that would have them. It was warm and light. The sound of her brother’s laughter hit her like a bell toll. Her father sat at the head of the table while Princess Rhaenyra sat across from him. The table had been turned so that her chair would be the closest to the fire. Jacaerys and Lucerys sat next to each other on their mother’s right while Joffrey sat to her left. Maetilda bowed to each of her family members before she filled the empty chair between Prince Daemon and Joffrey. The three boys each held a hand to their mouths as they failed to contain their laughter. Regardless, they each nodded their heads back. The future Queen briefly smiled at her before returning her gaze to her husband. He, on the other hand, did not break his trance to acknowledge his daughter. Awkwardly, the princess cleared her throat, but it was in vain. She resorted to staring forward blankly, folding her hands perfectly in her lap. Dinner was served without another moment. Spiced mutton, buttered bread, freshly cooked potatoes and greens. The smell made their stomachs growl and their mouths water. The boys were about to dig in like they would back home before the future Queen cleared her throat. Stopping them in their tracks.

“Remember that if we are at an official meal, you wait for the ruling monarch to eat first. Then you may dig in.” She instructed with a soft smile.

The boys eyed her eagerly as she sat at the table with an empty plate. She smiled at them innocently before taking a slow sip from her wine. Little Joffrey let out a pained groan in anticipation. The other two giggled at their mother’s antics. Even Prince Daemon snickered.

“I do believe you’re torturing them, my ruling Monarch.” He chided playfully.

“Very well,” Rhaenyra smirked before grabbing a roll and a leg of mutton.

Before one could blink an eye, the boys had launched out of their chairs. Their hands greedily grabbed at whatever food they could. As if sharing a brain, Maetilda and her father sat back and watched them, waiting for their frenzy to die down. The three boys stuffed their catchings into their mouths, moaning with delight at the flavor. Once Maetilda and Daemon finally dug in after the rest of them, a silence settled amongst the table. Nothing but the sound of chewing and cutlery scraping on plates. The Rogue Prince’s stare remained fixed on his wife while his daughter watched him. She remained observative as he took his simmering anger out on the food he cut into smaller and smaller bites. He did not always eat like such a royal. He spent too many years at war and in pleasure houses to hold onto his manners. When he was in better spirits, he ate with his hands.

“How are you all finding the castle so far? I suspect we shall be calling it home before winter comes.” The future Queen’s shoulders slumped at her latter statement, the realization that her coronation meant her father’s death hanging heavy upon them.

“It’s, uhh, different.” Jacaerys tried.

“The dent from the morningstar incident is still there!” Lucerys exclaimed.

“Oh please, don’t remind us.” Rhaenyra held back a breathy chuckle.

“The morningstar incident? I don’t know if I’ve heard of that one.” Daemon teased.

“No, please! Anything but that.” The future queen pleaded again, “Please, something else!”

“Well, uhh, my handmaids are sweet.” Maetilda spoke the first words that came to her mind.

“Wonderful! I’m pleased to hear you approve of them. They had big shoes to fill.” Rhaenyra smiled.

“Yes, I see they found the gown I have — is it thrice now? — ordered to be burnt. Way to show your unity, daughter. Qogralbāre rōva ribazma.” (Fucking brilliant) Daemon grumbled, taking a large gulp of honeywine. “Issi īlon mirre isse se sigils hen īlva muña sir?” (Are we all to wear our mothers’ sigils now?)

“My belt has two dragons, one on each side. Just because your parents—” Maetilda spit back.

“I must say, that color suits you, sister.” Jace interjected.

“You look very pretty, Til!” Luke joined in with a joking tone and a genuine smile.

“Very, very, very, very, VERY pretty!” Joffrey added.

“Very, very, VERY sweet of you boys. Your sister does look beautiful. As always.” Rhaenyra smiled. Joffrey giggled uncontrollably at her mimicry.

“‘Got that from our side, didn’t she?” Daemon smirked, finishing off his cup.

“My mother was pretty enough for me to happen, father.” Maetilda retorted sharply.

Jace and Luke simultaneously choked on their drinks. Joffrey continued to make a mess of his food, not being one to eat when the room was tense. Rhaenyra’s body froze as her head whipped around to see her sons’ reactions before her eyes finally landed on Maetilda. The future Queen’s eyebrow hiked upward as if to question how Maetilda knew of such matters. Daemon merely laughed into his cup as memories ran passed his violet eyes, “Iksā paktot va bony.” (You’re right on that one.)

“Did you all see anything else in the training yard?” Rhaenyra quickly changed the subject.

“We did!” Maetilda answered hotly while the two others were still recovering from the last time she opened her mouth, “The Cargyll twins were sparring together, along with Prince Aemond and Ser Criston Cole. With just a sword and a shield, the prince bested Ser Criston with his morningstar.”

Her father visibly tensed. Only then had she realized the sensitive subject she stumbled upon. Ser Criston had bested him at the Heir’s Tournament. Her father had never gotten over it, although that is not what he wanted the Realm to think. Whenever he got drunk in Pentos, he would rant about the occasion extensively to Lady Laena, who pretended to care. She could not count the number of times she had heard him aggressively ramble about how he was incredibly disadvantaged. How he had spent all his energy on the Hightower cuck. How he had been blinded by the sun. How Cole had spooked his horse.

“You should have seen it, Daemon! Ser Criston wailed his morningstar at the prince’s shield until it completely fell apart!” Lucerys recalled, completely unaware of the salt he was pouring in Daemon’s wound.

“The prince didn’t even flinch! ‘Had the kingsguard by the neck in only a few more strokes.” Jacaerys further explained.

“He, uhh, wears an eyepatch now too.” Luke added, voice dripping with hesitation and guilt.

The two at the heads of the table shared an unreadable look. It was broken by Princess Rhaenyra who pulled away to look back at the children. Maetilda could not help her itch to continue speaking. That was not all they saw, “Lord Vaemond Velaryon had made his entrance through the gate in the training yard as well. Lords and ladies were even present to observe his arrival. I must say, having never spent much time at this place in my life, this Keep seems upside down.”

“Sȳrje ūndegīon hen ao, tala.” Daemon rolled his eyes. (Very observational of you, daughter)

“That sounds like quite the sight! I must have a word with the Queen. A royal arrival shall not be overlooked in favor of Lord Vaemond.” Rhaenyra tutted.

“It is interesting he entered through the training yard gates, you know,” Daemon conceded a bit quietly, “That entrance would have a direct route to the byka rhaenagon tistālion. We shall see qilōni iksis dārys isse jēda.” (small council chambers; who is king in time)

“What does that mean?” Joffrey inquired, only half listening.

“You’ll know when you’re older, Joff.” Daemon teased.

The Rogue Prince stared at his wife with a new sharp intensity as Joffrey began to descend into his cries of ‘why.’ Maetilda watched her father’s stare intently. His look held a thousand words. A thousand silent words that Princess Rhaenyra missed as she gazed down at the table lost in thought. The princess-by-title suspected the worst. Perhaps the Hightowers already had Lord Vaemond in their purse. What she had told her parents was valuable, she could see it in their reaction, yet neither of them moved their mouths to acknowledge it. Her insides twisted at her father’s utter refusal to admit she had done good. It was as if the Gods would strike him down dead on the spot if he were to tell her ‘well done’ even a single time. She hadn’t heard it since he had taught her High Valyrian as a girl. He knew she could understand what he was saying. With a silent huff, the princess-by-title broke her stare from her father. She allowed her eyes to scan the table only to meet those of her two stepbrothers. Their eyebrows were raised in surprise as their blinking significantly decreased. It was as if they were surprised by her observations, like they had not witnessed the same training yard, yet this had not been the first time. Perhaps the two had been taking too many pages out of her father’s book. Not being able to lose attention for long, Daemon sighed as he clapped his hands on the table.

“Children, you should all stay away from Princess Rhaenyra’s siblings… for the time being.” He spoke resolutely.

“Stay away?” Lucerys gasped, “As in avoid them or shun them? Are you joking?”

“You can’t be serious!” Jacaerys echoed.

“Avoid them at all costs. We all have noticed how freakish this keep has become. ‘Don’t want to catch whatever disease they have. We must trust no one.” Daemon doubled down.

Rhaenyra seemed to be at a loss for words before she could finally let out, “Mijegon másino, se riñar issi daor qrinuntyssy, Daemon.” (Certainly, the children are not guilty)

“Mēre-Laes pyghagon se qogralbar azantys,” He growled. (One-Eye beat the fucking knight)

“Se valītsos iksis iā sȳz egros. Ilagon hen ziry,” She countered. (The boy is a fine sword. Lay off it.)

“Ȳdra daor sagon doru-borto, Rhaenyra.” He sneered back. (Don’t be stupid)

“Hae hembar jentys hen Sīkuda Dārȳti, kesan sagon skoros jaelan.” (As next ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, I will be what I want)

Maetilda crossed her arms grumpily as the future Queen and King Consort went back and forth in High Valyrian. Jacaerys and Lucerys were nowhere near fluent enough to keep up while Joffrey didn’t speak the language at all beyond a few sprinkles of keywords. Of course, this is how the two would often argue – in spats of their ancestral tongue. As if no one else could understand them and they were the only two people left in the world. Her father continued to down his cups as he banged his fists against the table. Yet her stepmother did not flinch, she did not back down. She never did, always seeing him for the boy he was. Most others were afraid of the Rogue Prince, the alleged murderer of his own daughter’s mother, but his third wife was not. One could not simply intimidate a dragon.

In the back of her mind, Maetilda had already begun to spin plans for what she was to do for the next days leading up to the trial. Despite the expanse of the castle, there was not always a lot to occupy one’s time with. Visiting the library was of no interest to her and wondering about the halls sounded beyond tiring. One could pace the gardens only so many times, and no brown garden would ever compare to the gardens of the Free Cities in her childhood. Hunting down Princess Helaena would have naturally been at the top of her list. Not to mention, the two princesses had gotten along well the last time they had seen each other at Driftmark. Their friendship had only seemed to blossom. After their meeting as children, they would often send small cuttings of their embroidery back and forth between each other. Allowing them to see the other’s progress, and add little motifs to the corners if they so choose. Maetilda would send her royal cousin all sorts of designs – dragons, flowers, quotes from poetry books, insects, and animals. Yet Helaena would only ever send back different stitchings of the same bug, a silverfish. Sometimes it was accompanied by beetles, spiders, and other small creatures. Most recently had been a silverfish and an earwig. She had kept them all together in a chest. Not one piece sent to her was missing the little bug, there was always a silverfish. The princess-by-title never knew what it had meant, but she admired how they increased in intricacy over the years. Certainly they were not Helaena’s favorite as the King’s second daughter did not keep one in her collection. Maetilda longed to ask the princess about the stitchings and their meanings in person as she was always so vague in her letters. Perhaps she knew something too, the girl was certainly smart enough to code her messages or at least never write something that may give away suspicion. The princess-by-title could not quite put her thumb on the feeling that prickled inside of her. Her heart hurt and her stomach ached. Certainly there could be nothing dangerous about Helaena, not anything that the princess-by-title couldn’t handle. As she continued to turn over the silverfish embroidery in her mind, Maetilda concretely decided to disregard her father’s warnings. He was overly paranoid and bitter from war, being widowed twice, and old rivalries. He was being irrational. She was going to visit Helaena on the morrow, whether the Rogue Prince approved of it or not. The worst he could do was try to stop her.

A/N: so this is gonna be a more dark!daemon fic. i’m still deciding how dark/grey! aemond will be. i spammed these first few chapters, but i may start spreading them out as i don’t actually write this fast. but posting these has gotten me super excited so we’ll see!

xoxo messy

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #aemond x oc #aemond x fem!oc #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen #dad!daemon #stepmom!rhaenyra #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #hotd aemond #dead men and the divine

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matchaizuku · 20 days ago

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august bnha fanfic recommendation post

hello! this post has been in my draft since early september because i forgot about it, but people seemed to enjoy my first “fic rec” post, so here’s another one!

also, can you tell time travel is one of my favourite tropes?

one-shot and completed works:

just the two of us (we can make it if we try) by ijustwanttodestroy [8k]

“This is super cliche, actually.” “I need you to shut up,” Hitoshi says. “You think they have cameras? Like you know, Saw type of shit? Are they watching us?” the criminal squints at the ceiling corners, his handcuffs rattling as he shifts in his seat. “Oh my god, what if they’re live-streaming this to some sick fucks on the dark web or something?" Detective Shinsou Hitoshi is trapped in a room with a criminal. One of them has to die.

alternate universe. thriller/crime/mistery vibes. gen. it’s super cool. it’s written masterfully.

Broken Hearts With Hope Seeping Through by Liridus [8k]

Todoroki Natsuo has always been one to deny hope, but here he found himself hoping again. - Natsuo tries to find a place in Touya's life again, regardless of how much he wonders if that's something he deserves.

natsuo being a med student. todoroki family bonding. toga being a younger sister to all of the todoroki brothers. it’s set during canon (and it’s what touya deserved).

i think i want to save you by phanatics [12k]

Dabi wakes up twelve years in the future with a new face, an ugly cat, and Hawks, who loves him.

dabihawks. time travel. it manages to be both cute and introspective. (honestly, to me this is the ending that touya deserved). i’m actually quite picky when it’s about dabihawks fanfiction, but this is definitely worth a read.

Things that Haunt Our Hallways by ghostwriterofthemachine [14k]

“It was a kid,” Yagi gasped out. He had his hand balled up into a fist and the fist pressed to his lips, as if to remind himself that he could not start screaming. “Or. Young person, maybe 20. Homeless, I think. Activated their Quirk on reflex and then ran. The kids—” Here, he pressed his fist harder to his mouth, sucked in a wheezing breath, as if the air itself was pushing down something with physical weight. “The kids—” “Scattered immediately,” Aizawa finished for him, and Yagi managed a nod. Yagi’s eyes were so dilated that the blue was almost invisible. He shook violently. He looked like a scarecrow in a windstorm. Someone activated a Fear-Inducer Quirk so powerful that it reduced All Might to this — of course Aizawa’s class had bolted. Or: A Fear Gas fic, BNHA style.

this is my absolute favourite bnha fic ever. it has lots of kudos and lots of bookmarks, which means a lot of people have read it, but if you haven’t: go read it now. but don’t forget to read the tags first. it’s gen and hurt/comfort and the whole class relying on each other, and also incredible all might characterisation.

By Any Other Name by SatelliteBlue [258k]

Through some freak accident of the universe, Dabi has been invited to compete on The Bachelorette. Have they actually seen his face? Surprisingly yes, and they still want him. For this season they apparently need a ‘bad boy’ to both balance out the hero contestant (why in hell is Hawks involved?) and to trash talk the show in interviews to appeal to audiences who don’t like the scripting. Getting sent on a vacation away from his annoying bandmates to complain and eat as much free food as he wants? Sold.

the dabihawks bachelorette fic. if you haven’t read it yet they you should, it’s great. bachelorette au, obviously, hawks is still an hero and dabi isn’t a villian, but he’s also not a normal civilian (read to find out why!). i don’t like reality tv but this made me want to watch the bachelor(ette) ngl. the sequel has only 5 chapters out but it doesn’t end in a cliffhanger, and actually it ends in the perfect place.

incomplete works:

Skip by GrumpySunshine [46k]

Aizawa Shouta was tired. Crouched on the edge of the roof as he was, he observed the streets below him silently. He was coming to the end of his patrol, and if everything remained as it was, he'd be able to catch a decent nap before having to report in to the school for another round of proctoring. Which, of course, is when he saw the kid being chased down the alley. *** Or Izuku is your average 21st-century kid. Being sucked through a time-traveling portal and dropped in the middle of a fantasy world with supervillains was not his idea for a good start to the new school year. Good thing he has everyone's favorite underground hero keeping an eye on him. With a hero by his side, how much trouble could he possibly get into while trying to find his way back home?

alternate universe + time travel (can you tell that it’s one of my favourite tropes?). yes, it’s incomplete, but it does not end on a cliffhanger. great friendships (it’s a gen fic), super funny, great characterisation of dadzawa and of 21st-century midoriya. definitely worth a read.

#bnha #fic rec #midoriya izuku #shinsou hitoshi #dabihawks #dadzawa #yagi toshinori #text post #mine

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combeauferre · 5 months ago

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trust you've got time on your side

les miserables, rated t, 2.6k words

“You think I’m on top of everything?” Courf says, smiling sadly. “I haven’t even started this essay yet. The reading is impossible. You’re not the only one struggling.”

“I-I shouldn’t be str-struggling at all.”

Enjolras should be made for university life, and instead, he's falling behind. Sometimes he needs reminding that that's okay.

Here is my submission for this year's @drinkwithme-exchange! This is for @spicypotstickerbliss I hope you enjoy!

read on ao3

By all measures, Enjolras should be perfectly cut out for university. He’s dedicated, he’s passionate, he cares. He's wanted to study law for as long as he can remember, it's his heart and soul and life's blood.

He's not like half the people on his course, who took law because their rich parents want them to become rich lawyers. They're not here to learn the intricacies of a system they want to tear down.

His own rich parents want nothing less than for him to study law. If they had their way he'd be studying medicine or dentistry. Not that he would ever do something just for them.

This is the start of the rest of his life - where he lets go of everything behind him and works on all he's ever cared about. This should be a breeze.

There’s a voice in the back of his head, his guidance counsellor’s patronising, grating voice, telling him, “you have to be sure before you enter a law degree. Becoming a reputable lawyer does not happen across a three year Bachelor's degree. A lot of people don't make it." As if he’s ever been unsure about anything in his life, as if he ever struggled in school, ever been anything less than a solid A-grade student, or ever gave the impression that he couldn’t keep up with a heavy workload.

The pile of untouched readings on his desk stare at him in the same tone as his guidance counsellor spoke to him a year ago. Between attending classes, making connections with other students, writing essays and trying to create an activism group from the ground up, reading has taken a backseat. In theory, it's the least important part of his course. He shows up to class on time, he answers questions, he readily takes part in debates. For a while, he thought he could get away with doing the bare minimum of reading, and make up for it in every other area.

But slowly, he's been finding that when reading falls apart, his classes don't make sense. His arguments have no depth. Only a week ago, a professor pulled him aside at the end of a class to check he was keeping on top of his studies; it was embarrassing. His essays have no sources, the students he felt connected with a couple of months ago are suddenly miles ahead of him, and everything has come grinding to a halt.

In his shared living room, Courfeyrac is curled up on the couch with a re-run of the documentary series the three of them have been watching together. Combeferre is at the stove, cooking dinner for the three of them. Tomorrow, it’s Enjolras’ turn. Another thing to add to the list of things he has to do.

Courf takes almost all the same classes Enjolras does. They read the same papers, they write the same essays. Courf takes on almost as much work in their yet-to-be-named group as Enjolras and Combeferre. Courf, who had been terrified of the law workload, where Enjolras has never faltered in his surety to keep on top of it all. Now look who’s dragging behind.

A paper sits open in Enjolras’ lap, a few lines highlighted and an essay open on his laptop. If he can just finish reading this paper, find a decent few quotes to add, maybe he can at least get a decent first draft of this essay. It’s not due until next week, he has time, surely. Although, in that time, there will be two more seminars focused on different papers, a couple of multiple-choice tests, and a meeting of their now five-member group, in which they will discuss expansion. Enjolras will explain a plan of action for the next few months. A plan of action he has yet to make.

A soft knock at the door makes him jolt up.

“Bas?”

He sighs, scrubbing his hands over his face.

“Come in.”

Courfeyrac’s face pokes around the door and they smile.

“Gabriel says dinner’s almost ready, are you joining us?”

“Yeah,” he says, sighing, “I-I just have t-to finish something first.”

Stepping inside, Courfeyrac drops down on the other end of Enjolras’ bed.

“Which essay is this?” Their head cranes over Enjolras’ laptop to look at the paper he’s reading. “Oh, that one.”

“I-I know you’ve pr-probably already fin-finished it,” he says, sighing and ignoring Courf's amused shake of the head, "all th-this reading is s-s-so hard to get through.”

“Well, some food and a break will help, right?”

Chewing his lip, Enjolras shakes his head.

“Maybe I-I’ll have dinner in here, I really w-want to get th-this draft done.”

“Bas, come on.”

“I-I don’t have t-time, Jules,” he says, firmer, glaring at his computer screen. “Just b-because you can s-sit and w-watch TV all night, d-doesn’t mean I-I can.”

He reaches up to tug at his hair, scowling down at the paper.

“Th-this reading is s-so hard,” he continues, “I-I can barely get my-my head around it, an-and we have so much t-to do w-with the group, and-” he takes a few quick, sharp breaths, “I-I can’t just get th-through it all like y-you can.”

Courfeyrac sighs fondly.

“Do you really think I’m watching TV because all my work is done?”

Frowning, Enjolras looks up.

“I-is it not?”

“No.” Gently, Courf pulls Enjolras’ laptop away. “I know it’s hard, Bas, but you’re gonna burn out if you don’t take breaks.”

“I don’t have time to- to take breaks.”

He avoids Courf’s face. He has the stern look memorised, and he's sure Courf learned it from Combeferre.

“Do you want me to get Gabi in here?”

Scowling at nothing, Enjolras shakes his head.

“I-I just don’t know h-how you do it,” he says eventually, quietly. “All I e-ever do is w-work, and I jus-just can’t do it all.” He takes a breath and picks at his fingers. “You two are on t-top of everything, all th-the time.”

“You think I’m on top of everything?” Courf says, smiling sadly. “I haven’t even started this essay yet. The reading is impossible. You’re not the only one struggling.”

“I-I shouldn’t be str-struggling at all.”

A throat clears in the doorway, and they look up to see Combeferre leaning against the doorframe.

“H-how long have you been th-there?” Enjolras asks nervously.

“Long enough,” Ferre says, smiling sadly, “Jules was a while getting you, I was worried. I should’ve known you’d be working yourself to death in here. Still.”

Blushing sheepishly, Enjolras looks away.

“Come and get some dinner,” he says, “you need to eat, Bas.”

He huffs, folding his arms.

“Y-yes, dad."

Combeferre laughs.

“Yes, come into the living room and think about what you’ve done.”

Taking his laptop, Courfeyrac saves Enjolras' work and closes it down. They reach out a hand for him and tug him up.

“Maybe we can bring all our work out and study together tonight, yeah?”

“I have some reading to do too,” Combeferre says, guiding them both out into the living room. Grinning, he adds, “we can always swap and you can read about metaphysics instead.”

“I-it’s probably more in-interesting than property law,” Enjolras grumbles, allowing himself to be guided to the couch. A bowl of stew and couscous is placed in his hands and he sighs softly as the smell reaches his nose.

“I loved this episode so much I had to watch it again,” Courfeyrac says as they settle down on one side of him, pressing play. Combeferre sits on the other.

“Wh-why do I feel l-like th-this is going to be an-an intervention?” he asks, eyeing them both suspiciously.

Laughing, Courfeyrac links their arms.

“Well, it’s too late now, you’re stuck here.”

"I-I really am gonna n-need to go back an-and finish my w-work, Jules,” Enjolras says, trying again to squirm out of their grip.

“Nope, you’re not going anywhere,” Courf laughs, leaning their weight against him, “you’re going to take a break and you’re going to fucking enjoy it.”

Sulkily, Enjolras sighs and stops, taking a mouthful of stew.

“Success!” Courf cheers, finally settling in.

Throughout their meal, Enjolras tries to slowly drag his arm free of the loop it’s made with Courfeyrac’s, but every time he's close to getting free, they shoot him a sly grin and clamp their arm back down against his.

"You two are children,” Combeferre comments dryly, after a solid ten minutes of practiced patience. He finishes his stew and loops his own arm through Enjolras’ other with a smirk.

“I-I’m staying, I’m staying,” he grumbles, “I c-can barely even eat m-my stew anymore.”

Combeferre releases him gently and takes his bowl into the kitchen.

“You’d better still be there when I get back,” he calls.

“He will be,” Courf shouts back with a laugh.

“I-I really need t-to get back to w-work, Jules,” Enjolras says quietly, “I-I’m so behind.”

“You work too much, Bas,” they say, kindly, “you’re not behind, you’re burning out. You need to take more breaks.”

“I-I don’t!” Enjolras insists, “If I can just- just get out of th-this slump, I’ll be al-alright again.”

Walking back in from the kitchen, Combeferre drops on the other side of him and passes them each a cookie.

“Jules is right,” he says, “you’re going to work yourself into the ground.”

“N-nothing is done!” Enjolras insists, “I have s-so much to d-do and no t-t-time to get it all d-done!”

“Well clearly,” Combeferre says, taking his hand and gently rubbing the back of it with his thumb, “working down to the bone isn’t helping.”

“You’re not even behind,” Courfeyrac adds, “you’ve done way more than me. I haven’t even started that essay, I’m working on group stuff right now, I haven’t even had time to think about it.”

“Th-that should not be getting i-in the way of your w-work-”

“Bas,” Courfeyrac lays a hand on his shoulder, “I’m managing fine. You clearly are not, you need more rest.”

Enjolras folds his arms petulantly.

"You know Jules is right," Combeferre adds, putting an arm round Enjolras' shoulders, "We're both worried about you, we haven't properly seen you in days."

"I'm fine," he grumbles, leaning into his side all the same. "I-I just need to catch up on- on this one th-thing and I'll be b-back on tr-track."

"How about this," Ferre says, pausing the documentary again, "Tonight, we just relax, we finish watching this and then we can just hang out or something, and tomorrow-"

"I-I can't-"

"Tomorrow," Combeferre continues with a stern look, "we take our stuff and we go check out that cafe you were telling us about, and we can spend the day studying there. And I'm sure you'll get more done than if you lock yourself in your room tonight and force yourself to write that essay."

Huffing, Enjolras glares between them.

"Fine."

"Good." Combeferre goes to relinquish his hold, but Enjolras rests his head on his shoulder and sighs.

"Comfy there?" Ferre asks, smiling fondly. Nodding, Enjolras' eyes slip shut and Ferre gives Courfeyrac a soft look.

"I'll get a blanket," Courf says, getting up and taking theirs and Enjolras' empty bowls, pressing a kiss to Enjolras' temple as they go.

"You t-two fuss too much," he says quietly, when Courf has disappeared into their room. "I-I would be f-fine."

Stroking his hair, Combeferre shrugs lightly.

"Maybe you would be," he says, "but you don't seem fine. Working yourself down to the bone isn't going to always give you perfect grades, Bas. Do you really think you would have been able to finish that essay tonight? Or would you have sat in there and stared at that paper all night and beaten yourself up about how you couldn't focus on it?"

Huffing, Enjolras scowls straight ahead. Ferre doesn't need to see it to know the expression.

"You know I'm right," he says gently.

"May-maybe," Enjolras concedes.

"So, what about," Courfeyrac says, pulling two blankets out of their room, "we get all our cushions and duvets out here and have a sleepover?"

"I-it's already a sl-sleepover every night," Enjolras says, "w-we live i-in the same house."

"We don't sleep in the same room, though," they reply, setting down the blankets on the floor, "this will be like the good old days, the three of us all cuddled up together, watching a movie." He throws Enjolras a smirk. "And that way, we know you won't skulk back to your room and work on your essay until four in the morning."

"I-I wasn't going t-to do that."

"Sure you weren't."

"I w-wasn't!"

"Well then it doesn't matter, does it?" Courf asks, taking his hand and pulling him down on to a blanket. "You're not missing out on work, and we get to spend time with our bestest friend."

Enjolras can't help the soft look that comes over his face at that.

"Y-you really don't h-have to do th-this," he says quietly.

Courfeyrac cradles his face gently with their hands and smiles, kissing his forehead.

"We want to."

And then they're off again, carrying back and forth duvets and pillows from each of their rooms and making a nest on the floor in front of the TV.

"Gabi," they say, on their second duvet run, "Will you help Bas pick out a movie?"

"I-I don't need help w-with th-that," Enjolras grumbles. Combeferre laughs and rolls his eyes.

"Are you going to be grumpy about this all night?" he asks fondly.

Scowling good naturedly, Enjolras considers.

"Maybe."

"Go on then, pick us out a movie."

Reaching down to their TV, Enjolras pulls out their shared box of DVDs and rifles through until he finds what he's looking for.

Courfeyrac laughs quietly and rolls their eyes.

"You don't even know the half of it," Combeferre says as he takes The Neverending Story from Enjolras and sets up the DVD. "When we first met, this was the only movie we were allowed to watch for the first two years of our sleepovers."

"I-it's a beautiful st-story about hope and p-perse-perseverence," Enjolras grumbles, slinking back on to the couch and huddling into Courfeyrac's side.

"As far as comfort movies go, it's pretty good," Courf concedes, pushing a hand into Enjolras' hair and scritching gently at the scalp.

Combeferre comes back to the couch and settles into Enjolras' other side, leaning into him and accepting an arm around his shoulders.

Eventually, Enjolras' tenseness ebbs away and he settles back into Courf's lap, Combeferre's head ending up in his own. A "th-thank you" is almost silently drawn from his lips as his eyes slip closed.

"Any time," Combeferre says, just as quietly, from where his head rests easily on Enjolras' thigh. He and Courfeyrac follow in sleep shortly after.

It's early morning when Courfeyrac wakes to a gentle jostling coming from their front. Opening their eyes and letting them adjust, they see Enjolras gently trying to pry himself away from the sandwich they've trapped him in.

"What do you think you're doing?" Courf whispers, making Enjolras all but jump out of his skin.

"Jules, I-I really need t-to get this w-work done." His voice is groggy from his own sleep and his eyes are bleary but he doesn't let up.

Rolling their eyes, Courf whips their arms around him and they pull him back into place.

"Don't make me wake Gabi," they say sternly. Enjolras sighs and begrudgingly relaxes back into Jules' lap.

"You're not going anywhere until morning," they whisper, pulling Enjolras closer and snuggling back into place.

"I-if I fail this paper," Enjolras mutters, "I'm b-blaming you."

"Well it's a good job you're not going to fail then, isn't it?"

Glaring at them, Enjolras settles down and finally closes his eyes again.

"Just get some proper rest, Bas," Courf murmurs, stroking his hair once more, "in the morning, I promise I will help you with the paper."

This seems good enough for Enjolras, who rests his head back on Courfeyrac's stomach, and slowly falls back asleep.

#les mis #drink with me 2024 #drinkwithme2024 #les miserables #les amis de l'abc #combeferre #courfeyrac #enjolras #enjolras/combeferre/courfeyrac #fanfiction #ollie writes #mine

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oceandeviancy · 1 year ago

Text

Speculation (BadBoyHalo x Male Reader)

Title: Speculation

Pairing: BadBoyHalo x Male Reader

Requested by: xenenbii on Wattpad

Scenario: You decide to make hot chocolate for Bad while he streams.

---

It was no secret that it can be hard dating a content creator. (Y/N) had many creator friends who had their relationship public and he's seen the good and bad affects of doing that. Some flourish in the spotlight, showing off that perfect life, while others have seen the strain. He has witnessed many breakups and it wasn't fun to witness his friends go through so much pain, especially when millions of fans were involved.

He was grateful there were friends that trusted him enough to know the status of their relationship and in turn, he knew the status of his own was safe with them as well. (Y/N) was not a famous YouTuber or streamer by any means. Sure, he did a Twitch stream occasionally and a YouTube video rarely but he did not consider himself on the same level as his boyfriend or any of his other friends. That life was something he did not need the stress of.

(Y/N) saw the stress Darryl had keeping up with content creation and his public persona. He was glad his partner always set aside time to spend with him. He sometimes wondered how actors could spend months at a time away from their families. He wondered if it carried the same association of a musician going on tour.

One thing (Y/N) loved to do is watch Darryl's streams and bring him things as needed any time he mentioned them. It was (Y/N)'s way of telling Darryl he was watching. You'd think he would be mod with how much he spent watching but the pair agreed it was best if that didn't happen. Being mod could cause people to start looking into who (Y/N) was. Some fans could be a bit intense with how they treated their favorite people and those surrounding them.

On today's stream, Darryl had a camera set up to show Rat, who was currently sleeping on her bed, and the audience were loving it. They would commentate on everything she was doing. Every turn, every yawn, and every blink of her eyes. It was a bit much but Darryl preferred this greatly over some of the spam he's had to endure over the years.

Rat wasn't her actual name but it fit her so well that it might as well be her name. It's one of those nicknames you give your pets that become so common in your day to day life that using the original name seems wrong. Even when he wasn't using his BadBoyHalo persona, Darryl would sometimes say or do things that he would typically only say or do while streaming, including saying Rat. (Y/N) found it adorable.

(Y/N) didn't love Darryl because of him being a popular YouTuber. He loved Darryl for Darryl, and he appreciated that. Darryl didn't need to keep up his online persona in his personal life. He wasn't having to live a lie with his boyfriend. The lie was to his audience.

He was watching the stream, which was mainly building a new base, while trying to finish a personal project. He had all of his work out on the kitchen island and his laptop with the stream off to the side. (Y/N) kept moving the laptop around as he didn't want to bury it underneath all of his work.

"Does this look right chat? I can't decide if I like this color or this color"

(Y/N) checked the stream to see the context. Darryl was designing the entrance to the base and had several ideas for the color palette. The chat seemed to be split between the two options he had shown. (Y/N) quickly typed his opinion in chat and went back to his work.

"Yes, I think I am going to agree with everyone saying this one. Sorry to those who said the other. Both were very good options"

He continued to make progress and was slowly clearing the table.

"'What is your favorite drink'? Hmm...that is a good question. I think I'd say hot chocolate. Man, I'd love some right now"

In that moment, (Y/N) got an idea.

He thought it would be a good idea to make some hot chocolate for Darryl as a surprise and for him to have a treat to enjoy while streaming. He found the container in the cabinet and started the process of making it. Normally he would make the whipped cream but they, unfortunately, didn't have the cream or the vanilla he preferred to use. He chose to just use the can in the refrigerator.

Occasionally he would hear Darryl say something hilarious from reading chat and (Y/N) would let out a laugh. He loved his goofy self.

Once the hot chocolate was done, he topped it with the whipped cream and a little bit of cinnamon.

He walked into Darryl's room and could see he was busy with his game and reading chat. Rat was sleeping peacefully in her bed. With a careful eye on the hot chocolate, (Y/N) made his way across the room. He taps Darryl's shoulder to alert him.

"Oh gosh, you scared me" he jumped.

"Sorry," (Y/N) laughs softly, "I thought you might like some hot chocolate"

He hands Darryl the mug, whose face immediately lights up at the sight of it. He takes it from his boyfriend and places it on the part of his desk where he knows he won't accidentally knock it over.

"Should've known you were watching my stream"

"Of course. They're always very interesting"

"Chat certainly makes it interesting"

They both glance at chat. It was a mix of emoji and meme spam and people beginning to question who was talking.

"Indeed they do," (Y/N) turns to Rat, "Sorry to wake you, Rat"

He kisses her head and pulls out a dog treat from his pocket. He offers it to Rat, who immediately takes it. Dogs were always really hilarious to watch eating a treat. (Y/N) did know he was in view of the Rat Cam but in this moment, he wanted to forget.

"Would you like me to order food for you? I was considering getting something for myself but thought I'd ask you as well"

"I'd love some. I'll text you once I figure out what I want"

"Great. Enjoy your stream"

(Y/N) gives Darryl a soft kiss and leaves the room. Darryl was grateful he wasn't using his webcam. He was burning from the blush that would be very clear to an audience.

"I know what my chat is going to say. (Y/N) is just my roommate, I've said that many times before" Darryl says.

He really did wish he could tell them the truth but now just wasn't the time. One thing that was important was time. He wanted the time with (Y/N) where his audience wasn't going to constantly ask about the relationship or try to dig into their personal lives. He liked that peace. Separating his work and personal life is how he liked to live.

A lot of their friends knew they were roommates but only a small group knew of their relationship status. Darryl trusted the people who knew.

"I think communities of content creators sometimes look too deeply into the things the creator shares with their audience. Friends will playfully interact with each other, that doesn't mean they are attracted to each other. People will have roommates, that doesn't mean they are dating"

He could see that chat was still the mess that it was. On top of the normal spam, it was now filled with speculation and theories about who (Y/N) really was. It wouldn't stop as that is just how some fans can be but he could ignore it in the best way he could.

"Let's go back to this game, shall we?" Darryl sighs

He glances at chat and sees a familiar chatter.

(U/N): People are so nosey smh

"Indeed they are (Y/U), indeed they are"

#badboyhalo #bbh #badboyhalo x male reader #badboyhalo x reader #bbh x reader #bbh x male reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt x male reader #request #requests open #requests #dating #writing #minecraft #reader insert #male reader

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