#I have bared my soul for this be kind or else I will cry | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crystalflygeo · 11 months

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Last of her kind Emperor!Alpha!Zhongli + Slave!Omega!Dragoness!Reader-

cw/tags: mentions of slavery and past sexual abuse on fem!reader, A/B/O dynamics, mating bites, fingering, scenting, pet names, zhongli has a knot and alpha fangs and is not afraid to use them lmao, some nip and clit stimulation ig?? emotional roller coaster ngl.

notes: So remember a loooong time ago when I held a poll and one of the options was "dragon" and it WON?? well actually it was this, (dragon READER heh) it just got WAY out of control. 5.6k words and now I wanna make it into a whole series //head in hands// anyway ye have this weird lil funky AU I poured my sweat blood and tears into (also my heart and soul) idk why I am just so attached I love it so much plsss I have ideas fot other scenes with them already aaaaaaaaa <3

Partially inspired by some of @silentmoths' fics holy shIT I LOVE DRAGON READER AND I LOVE OMEGAVERSE NOD IF YOU AGREE!!

Last but not least if y'all wanna be part of my pinglist uhh I'm making one now so :3c

Part 2 ->

Strange yellow leaves fall around you all over the courtyard…

“Fix your clothes, you have to look appealing… well, as appealing as a creature like you can be.” The voice of your Master calls out harshly, pulling and tugging at details in your outfit. It was a flimsy and silky thing, mostly see-through, rather elegant, but very revealing.

You’re used to it.

“And stop looking so miserable! You better smile and please this Alpha. He’s not just anyone, you know?”

You nod meekly, trying to hide the slight trembling on your body. This will be just another bonding attempt. Nothing else.

It will fail. Just like all the others before.

Silver chains clink and tug the collar at your neck, it shakes you back to the present as you stumble forward.

Master guides you through a maze of corridors, with sleek surfaces of dark wood, decorative lanterns and paper screens. They’re strange, covered in even stranger symbols that look nothing like the ones back in the desert. Your bare feet, used to rough hot sand, now walk along polished wood with your draconic tail dragging behind. Everything looks so lavish…

You’ve been brought all the way to Li- Liu-… Li-yue? A foreign country, to meet a potential client. Well, a client to your Master. You are just the merchandise: a dragonblood Omega. Rare, unique even, “exotic”.

But defective.

Your fists clench in nervousness. How rough will this Alpha be with you? You dread to find the answer. Alphas were cruel, ever since you remember you’ve been taught to please, be gentle, obedient and look pretty, but they were never any of those things. Alphas just took their pleasure and used your body as they wanted, usually until you were crying and screaming, begging for mercy. You just hope this Alpha would give you some pity and be quick… or give you time to rest in between attempts.

Though you had learned since long that your wishes don’t tend to come true.

What a disappointment. After I spent so much money and resources on you.

Such a waste of time, what use is there in an Omega that can’t bond?

Why do I even bother with you? You’re just good for the reproduction camp. Maybe that way you can produce another dragonblood.

This is your last chance, mutt. If you fail again, I won’t be bothering with you anymore.

You feel anxiety creeping on your chest, heart jumping to your throat as the dark thoughts invade your mind. Last chance… your last chance at bonding. At proving you’re not useless and stupid. At serving your purpose as Omega. What was happening to you was fair. You deserve to be punished and you should be grateful you have one last chance after all your failures.

You just want to… to…

Tears prickle at your eyes and you breathe in deeply, trying to contain your distress and hugging your own tail, rubbing your face on the fluffy tip.

Whatever happens today, your fate is going to be sealed.

The nest room is nice.

Like the rest of the place, it is rather elegant, dimly lit with neutral colors and wooden walls, filled with pillows and blankets that had a very subtle flowery aroma to them. Small cabinets to one side with some decorative objects on top and a full-length mirror on the other side. So much different from the barren cold stone walls and tents from the desert camps.

“Hm, pretty fancy.” Master says taking off your collar, your soft unblemished neck now on display, free from any claim. “Now…” He pulls at your hair and you wince, whining and lowering your ears on a submissive display. He wouldn’t hurt you right? You have to look pretty. “The emperor will be here shortly. Make sure to do anything and everything he wants. And you better smile, I told you.”

“E-Emperor?” You pale, eyes widening.

He scoffs and pushes you back, you stumble back into the mess of pillows. “That’s right. I don’t know why but he was very adamant to see you it seems. Perhaps he just wants the prestige of owning the last known dragonblood, hm? Another novelty for his collection, I’m sure. You should consider yourself really lucky. So…” He flashes his Alpha fangs at you with a growl and you whimper again, cowering. “I would suggest you do your best and don’t disappoint this time, he’ll pay a pretty penny for you.”

And with that he leaves, muttering something and almost slamming the strange sliding door.

And so, you’re alone.

Immediately your brain goes into overdrive. An emperor? You had been presented to various Alphas of high status before, wealthy merchants and high-ranking tribe members, but this… this was probably a whole other level.

An emperor had to have an empress, right? Someone of noble birth and high status such as himself, not a lowly sand lizard like you, with weird ears, scales, horns and a tail. Why would he want to see an Omega like you? Perhaps Master was right, he intended to keep you as a trophy in his collection, another pretty thing.

It was humiliating.

But anything was better than being doomed to the reproduction camp…

Maybe the emperor had a harem? You’ve heard of them before, some Alphas liked to boast having many Omegas bound to them. Living in this luxury, not having to worry about much anything except looking pretty and pleasing him once a while. Hell, maybe he wouldn’t even pay attention to you, you’d be just a glorified pet.

You could… do that.

Without noticing, your tail starts swaying after you, this could be a chance. Your chance. You just had to make him like you. Forget the bond. Don’t think about it. All you have to do is please him.

You start frantically arranging the sheets and pillows around, building the comfiest nest you ever had with all the extra material, scenting it with excited happy pheromones. You could do it, this was your chance.

You won’t fail this time. You’ll be pretty, obedient, submissive, the ideal Omega. You’ll let him use you to his heart’s content, sure you may be a little sore but it’ll be worth it if he chooses you. He won’t even care about the bond.

…Right?

You jolt when you hear the door slide slightly open again, your heart leaps to your throat as someone walks in.

Oh.

Is… he the emperor? … He’s handsome.

To be fully honest, you expected some fat pompous middle-aged man not this… perfect specimen of an Alpha.

Your tail sways a little with curiosity.

He looks only slightly older than you, tall, wearing elegant robes in brown and golden hues. His eyes are like a sunset: golden, warm, almost glowing. A red liner accentuating them. Long chocolate hair faded to amber at the tips. His scent was earthy and pleasant, subtle unlike most Alpha musk. Almost comforting and… familiar?

He seems to stare back at you with the same surprise, frozen for a moment, eyes slightly wide, he says something you can’t quite hear and it shakes you out of the spell. You suddenly feel a little self-conscious, curling your tail around you, ears down and resisting the urge to brush (hide) the scales at the corners of your eyes.

It occurs to you that you’ve been just staring like an idiot, you don’t know very well how to address him, nor know his foreign tongue. So, you simply lower your head in respect. “My Lord…”

You suddenly feel nervous. This is it.

You turn around, following the motions ingrained in your brain. Body splayed on the nest, arms tucked in, head down. Submissive, obedient. Your hands are shaking, you feel dizzy, heart thrumming in your chest, blood rushing in your ears.

You lift your butt just slightly, tail curling elegantly over your back, out of the way to expose the flimsy fabric covering your privates, properly presenting to the Alpha. You focus on trying to control your pheromones, letting out just whiffs of a needy sensual scent, worried of mixing in your anxiety and fear and displeasing the emperor.

You had to be pretty, enticing, compliant, and he would, h-he would…

A rather awkward cough has you tense. “There is… no need for that.”

You blink for a moment, taken aback at the rich deep baritone of his voice, so hypnotizing you almost don’t register his words. He speaks common tongue, but still, what does he mean? Isn’t this just… standard protocol for bonding? Isn’t he going to mount you?

You dare peek over your shoulder and see him sitting elegantly over his knees at the floor. He’s outside of the nest range.

He’s also slightly pink at the cheeks and pointedly avoiding looking at you.

Is this a trap? Is he testing you to see if you’ll misbehave? Your hands clench, nails digging at your palms, your breathing and heart increasing pace.

“I just want to talk, I promise.” He tries.

You hold the position.

He sighs, and then-

“Omega, relax.”

You almost squeak at the Alpha command. His voice, his will, seeps into your skin, your nerves, your very bones. You feel your muscles loosen up, tension leaving your body like a bowstring snapping and you lie on the sheets sideways.

Right right right, you’re tense, you have to be soft and pliant-

You look over at him and he’s… heading over to the little cabinets. He picks up a kettle of some kind and little cups that sit on the top, moving around calmly and elegantly as he seems to prepare something. Your head tilts and you gingerly sit up straight. Tail and ears down, curled up not unlike a wounded animal.

“Do you speak the common tongue?”

“Y-Yes!” You nod. “A little…”

“Good.”

The emperor seems… pleasant, he is calm and unguarded, so different from the cold intimidating Alphas you’ve met who like to show off, who immediately order you around. He even used an Alpha command on you but it felt… grounding. There is something equally eerie and entrancing about him and you feel yourself as much drawn to him as terrified of his imposing aura, and you couldn’t explain why. It’s a bit unsettling but also comforting at the same time.

He pours two cups and turns to you. You stiffen and he offers you one.

“Qixing tea is one of the most refined Liyue teas. It tends to be very bitter but this blend has a more pleasant taste, a little floral even. It is also said to help relax one’s mind.”

You carefully take the cup, not wanting to insult such gracious offer, though you’re utterly confused, shouldn’t you be the one serving him?

The cup is warm.

You stare at the golden liquid, small black dots sit at the bottom. This has no alcohol… right? It can’t be worse than snake wine at least.

You carefully take a sip, trying to imitate how the emperor is holding his.

It is… nice, a strong sharp taste but not bad, and very aromatic.

He’s looking at you expectantly and your tail and ears twitch. “I-It’s very good. Thank you, my Lord.”

He smiles and your heart skips a beat. “I am glad. Some say Qixing tea is for older people, but it’s frankly one of my favorites.” He stares at his cup with a somewhat nostalgic gaze, as if it brings him fond memories. “Ah, you can address me as Morax.”

You nod quietly and take another sip. Past the tea’s powerful flowery scent, you can now sense his Alpha pheromones, with him being so close and the air less tense. They’re strong but not overwhelmingly so, sharp and tantalizing, a refined foreign scent you can almost taste in the back of your throat. It stirs something in you, something warm and alluring.

“Do you know where were you born? Who are your parents?”

The question takes you by surprise for a moment as you shake out of your thoughts. Ah, he must be inquiring about your dragonblood. “I-I’m…. I’m not sure, my Lo- um… L-Lord Morax. As far as I know my mother worked at a-a heat house… no one knew who my father was and she passed away when I was very young.”

“I see… so you have no idea where you got your dragon traits from.” It was a sentence rather than a question and you shake your head meekly, taking another sip from the tea, ears lowering back.

“Apparently it could be due to recessive genes.” You once again repeat the same words you’ve heard all your life. You hate bringing attention to your dragon features, people either treat you like a rare exotic creature or a dangerous one. You didn’t know which was worse.

“Hmmm…” Lord Morax seems pensive for a moment, also drinking some of the tea. “Have you been with your caretaker for long?”

You look down. “Master has been in charge of me ever since I… p-presented as an Omega.”

“Does he treat you well?”

Your eyes widen, the question catching you completely by surprise. T-Treat you well? You are… treated like any other slave omega, if only being singled out by your draconic traits. He feeds you, he gives you clothing and education, he arranges the best matches he can for bonding, he even got you here in the first place. You owe him everything, you’re nothing without him.

So then… Why do you find yourself thinking back on all the harsh words, all the punishments, all the screaming and crying, all the… t-touches…

You gulp. “M-Master ensures I have the best living conditions and opportunities I can.” Is what you settle for.

He hums.

There is silence for a moment and lord Morax settles down his cup.

“I don’t think you’re aware of how special you are.”

Just when you thought he couldn’t surprise you anymore, he utters those words and makes your heart speed up.

Is this anxiety? Fear?

“Judging from what your Master has told me, you’re treated like quite the novelty, an exotic half-blood not unlike the Valuka Shuna or Kätzlein. Here in Liyue however those with traits like yours are called Xiānshòu.” The foreign word rolls off his tongue. His golden eyes fix on you and you freeze. “Also known as illuminated beasts. With immense power and longevity, even the half-bloods. They’re well respected and looked up to, why, some are even revered as deities...”

You? Such a fantastic creature? That can’t be…

“Seems to me like things are different in the deserts of Sumeru, however.” His eyes narrow and for the first time you notice his diamond pupils. They look like a snake’s. The same eerie glint he had a few minutes ago is back darkening the bright golden eyes. Yet, for some strange reason you don’t feel scared this time.

A shiver travels down your spine as you feel your instincts purr in delight. Protective… for some reason lord Morax is being protective of you. You don’t know why or how but you can feel it and it made your inner Omega preen inside. An Alpha wanted to protect you, care for you.

“Such a shame.” He adds, sounding almost disappointed but there is something darker underneath. Word simmering with… frustration? “You are such a lovely dragoness, worthy of every praise and prayer they’d sign in your name here.”

You’re very glad your cup rests at your lap, blushing furiously with trembling hands.

For the next few moments, he continued to ask some more questions. What you like or dislike, what you do in your free time, even something as innocuous as your favorite color. Time seemed to stretch into infinity as you grew a little more comfortable with your answers and the whole situation, as though you weren’t talking to an emperor, or even a potential master or Alpha but rather… someone who saw you for who you are.

You liked that. You liked him.

You wanted to stay with him.

You wished to-

“Alright, I think that’s enough. I will have a talk with your Master and we’ll settle things.” He stands up and dusts his attire a little.

Your breath stops.

He is leaving.

Did you do something wrong? Didn’t he say he liked your appearance? Are you such a failed disgraceful omega? Your last chance at bonding. You didn’t even get to impress him. You want to call out to him, do something, anything. Panic rises in your chest, drowning you, freezing you. You can barely think, instincts screaming, begging, wailing in despair for him. This kind Alpha, this gentle, patient, imposing, majestic Alpha who’s too good for you and yet something deep inside you yearns for him…!

“I am very glad to have met you little xiānshòu.” A small smile tugs at his lips. Then, he turns and heads for the sliding doors.

So, you do the first thing that comes to your mind.

The empty cup falls from your hands, your footsteps thump loudly on the wooden floors, soft fabric clenches between your fingers.

As soft as the lips you crash yours onto.

…

It only lasts a few seconds but when you back just a little, ears low and tail curled up in apprehension, you realize what you did.

You’d kissed him, you’d kissed the emperor.

You’re shaking like a leaf, clinging to him for dear life. He stares at you with wide surprised eyes but you’d rather die right here for your insolence than live the rest of your days in regret.

His scent takes on an alluring hint to it and your inner Omega is overjoyed. Up so close it is almost irresistible. His face remains impassive, if a little tense, but you can see in his eyes something you identify very well… hunger, desire.

“Lord Morax… t-the nest… please.”

“Y-You don’t have to-”

“Please! Allow me to please you, allow me to show you…how…” You whisper against his lips, leaning in again as your eyes flutter close.

And suddenly his hands wrap around you and pull you close, cupping your face, curling at your waist, there’s something possessive in it and you feel slight vibrations as he growls deep from his chest against your mouth. But there is also something sweet, something delicate…

And for once, you want more. You want this.

How did you end up here? In the most beautiful nest you’d ever constructed, with the most handsome, kind, caring Alpha you’d ever met?

His kisses are deep and slow, completely unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. You lie on the soft sheets as he looms over you, exploring your mouth with an unhurried pace, hungry yet not forceful, letting you timidly do the same at your own pace.

This is nice…

His hands run along your body, caressing your skin through your flimsy attire. His touch curious but gentle.

“May I?” He asks, tugging at the fabric off your shoulder.

You shiver, at his voice, as the pure want in it, in his eyes, in his scent.

“Y-yes my lord…”

“Hmm…” His kisses trail down your jaw down to your neck as he starts pulling the garments off. Careful, instead of simply ripping them apart, your heart skips a beat. “If we’re going to do this, you can use my name and not just titles…”

Your top falls off and goosebumps litter your skin, nipples pebbled as one of his hands cups your breast.

“M-Morax…” You try, shakily, as if testing out the word alone on your lips.

“No, little one. Zhongli. That is my name.” He kisses down your shoulders, nipping at the skin.

“Ah!” Your tail flickers around and you purr.

You take the initiative to kiss him this time, and your hands start roaming his foreign clothes, fumbling with knots and pawing at the fabric. He chuckles at your frustrated whine. You want more, more of this feeling, more of him. To touch his skin, cover him in kisses, worship him.

(Show him what a good Omega you can be.)

No…

You want to make him feel good and please him.

Elegant fabric falls down discarded as he shakes off the layers of his top and you blink surprised. The fabric was bulky and covered up his figure. Lean but muscled, tantalizing like honey. You immediately latch onto him, nosing, scenting, nipping and kissing, feeling the faint outline of his abs and muscles twitch under your touch. He smells so good, he feels so good…

Your Omega instincts are starting to cloud your senses more and more.

Suddenly one of his hands gently squeezes a soft breast and you moan at the sudden touch “O-Oh!”

“You’re sensitive here, do you like this?” He asks, massaging your chest.

You whimper and nod frantically, tail wagging behind you. You had never been this responsive to having your chest played with, though then again, it was rare… but his sensual touches were quickly undoing you. Wetness pools at your gut and you rub your legs together.

Lord Mor- Zhongli… leans down then and something wet flicks over your nipple making you gasp, before warmth surrounds your nub. You cry out even louder. He sucks and laps at it and you instinctively tangle your hands on his hard dark hair, your legs wrapping around his waist.

You groan again, too many layers on the way.

“C-clothes… off, please!”

“As you wish, my dear dragoness.”

He continues squeezing, kissing, caressing and lapping at your skin, leaving a couple of hickeys along the way and teasing his Alpha fangs against you as his attention descends through your body once more, continuing his trail of kisses along your hip. His fingers dip down the waistband of your mesh pants and when you raise your hips to help, he pulls them down.

You’ve been naked in front of others more times than you’d like to count. But there’s something oddly intimate and special about this situation right now.

Your ears lower in apprehension, and your tail flicks by your side, resisting the urge to cover up. Lying down with your legs slightly spread around him. Already flushed, sweaty and panting.

“…You’re gorgeous.”

Huh?!

“I’m so lucky to have found you.” Zhongli nips at your hip. “So lucky that you want me too.” He kisses at your inner thigh.

Your breath hitches.

You’re the lucky one. Completely overjoyed that this Alpha likes you, desires you.

The first touch at your core has you mewling.

Zhongli strokes at your folds, still gentle, finding you soaked as your slick coats his fingers. Your body jolts and you moan “A-Ah!” He smirks against your thigh and nips there again as his fingers move in circles, teasing, testing, before moving to your clit. A finger pad stroking it just so, making your whole frame tremble, like every nerve in your body is being stimulated.

“Mngh- please!”

His fingers travel between your folds. First one sliding in rather easily, pumping steadily as you shudder in pleasure, and then two, making you writhe, bucking your hips against the touch, pushing them deeper, chasing that feeling.

Your body feels hot, too hot. Every sensation blocked except that warm wet feeling down there, in your new heaven. Your hands claw at the sheets, a pleasant fog setting in and you can feel yourself slipping into your most primal needs. But oh, oh, not like this.

You want him. Need him.

“You- y-you! please my lord!”

Something snaps in the Alpha’s eyes and Zhongli growls. Golden eyes dark, swallowed by lust and need and you whine when his fingers leave you. You vaguely hear rustling noises and before you can protest again, he pulls you up back on his lap and oh…

He’s big.

His erection stands proud between your bodies, rubbing against you and you shuffle impatiently, nuzzling against him.

Yes, yes…

Zhongli helps positioning you, gives himself a few strokes, and you feel his cockhead kiss at your entrance, you whine and stare at him rather confused. “L-Like this? B-But I have never- This is n-not how-”

He kisses your forehead, your nose, and pecks at your lips. “I can imagine this is very different from how they’ve taught you Alphas mount Omegas, but I my dear, intend to make love to you.” He whispers, hot breath fanning your cheeks as he nuzzles you, so close, so intimate. Your heart hammering wildly in your chest. “Like this you will have more control. I want you to relax, enjoy, my sweet dragoness.” He kisses at your cheek, down your jaw to your neck. “May I?”

You can feel your eyes water. No one had ever told you that. No Alpha had ever been this patient or even asked your permission before. Words die on your throat as you stare mesmerized at Zhongli. Grateful. Incredulous. Completely enamored.

You nod, and he guides you down.

It’s different like this. So much different.

You bite your lip and whine a little once you start to move, his hands hold your hips as you raise them and sink back down on his cock, inch by delicious inch. You feel… full, but warm, good. Your insides clench around him and he groans.

Oh… you could get used to this…

“Hah… ah! … m-my lord... I’m…” You feel dizzy but in a good way, your body tingles all over and it’s exhilarating, addicting.

He leans forward a bit, nosing at your collarbone, soft kisses tickle your skin and he… he’s almost purring in delight, inhaling your scent. “I told you, you can just call me by my name... Would you let me hear it?”

You buck languidly on his embrace, enjoying this…sensual experience, these new feelings and sensations. His tender closeness, his intoxicating pheromones, his deep baritone.

Him.

“Zhongli…”

His name comes out as a needy cry and he growls, Alpha pride clearly satisfied. His hands roam your body just enough to shift position and pull you even closer, hips rolling in tandem, picking up speed, his fangs grazing your shoulder.

Your head is swimming in pleasure, fuzzy like stuffed with cotton, small little “Ah… ah… ah!” moans punched out of you. You’re vaguely aware of your nails digging onto his skin but you can’t even stop yourself, you need to hold onto something, anything.

Even your tail subconsciously curls around his ankle (and he doesn’t even seem to mind), like every cell of your body is screaming at you to hold onto him and never let go.

Zhongli’s own breathing comes out in harsh puffs and satisfied groans as he buries himself in you over and over, the sound of skin slapping on skin becomes more prominent.

And then, he hits a spot that has you seeing stars.

Your eyes snap open (when had you closed them?) Back arching as if struck by lightning and letting out a high-pitched moan. H-How did he do that?! What was that? You don’t remember ever feeling like this in previous bonding attempts.

“M-more?” You mewl in delight.

Zhongli looks at you with a satisfied smirk and it only fuels the fire in your belly.

“Gladly.”

That same wonderful feeling travels up and down your body again and again as your moans and whimpers rise in volume, calling his name over and over. Zhongli kisses you, deep and passionate. Whispers praises and sweet nothings on your flickering dragon ears. Touches you so soft and reverently. Your body feels so hot, your mind going blank, you can feel the base of his cock swelling with his knot and the familiar coil of pleasure tightening as you anticipate it, crave it, more intense and satisfying than ever before.

And just as you reach that high, his fangs sink into you.

You come with a squeal, body tensing, clinging onto him, clenching on him as he lets out a deep satisfied groan, knotting you. Wet stickiness coats your insides and thighs. And everything feels right, just right. Perfect even.

It takes a moment to come back to your senses, and it’s to Zhongli’s hands rubbing circles at your back comfortingly, while he laps and kisses at the bonding mark he left on you.

And then the high comes crashing down.

The bonding mark.

Tears well up in your eyes and start rolling down your cheeks, your tail uncoiling from him and curling around yourself protectively, ears down.

Please no… this can’t be…

Please stay…

Please.

Zhongli immediately notices your distress, in your actions and your scent, completely different altogether. His own instincts going wild at the lack of a happy sated mate scent. “Darling, what’s wrong? I’m sorry did it hurt that much? Did I… harm you in some way or did something wrong?” Oh, he sounds so genuinely concerned.

You shake your head desperately. Of course he hasn’t.

But you will.

Your body will. Betray you as always.

No bonding mark has stayed in your neck for longer than a few minutes. They all fade.

Just like the alphas that place them in you.

And then comes the anger, the guilt, the disappointment, the despair, the loneliness…

You can’t take it. Not this time.

“S-stay… please…” You sob.

Your voice sounds so broken, so weak and tiny, absolutely heart wrenching.

And Zhongli embraces you.

“I will, my dearest dragoness. I promise you.” He kisses one of your horns.

You want to believe him but you can only cry harder…

The room is dark as your eyes flutter open. It takes a few minutes to adjust and for your mind to catch up. Where are you…? You look around at the wooden walls, nestled in comfy sheets, you see some wooden cabinets and a tea set-

…!!!

You jolt awake, tumbling some pillows from your fancy nest. Your last chance at bonding. The emperor. He was leaving, and then…!

You slap a hand against the junction between neck and shoulder and feel something there, a bandage… you try to stare at it confused, though it’s impossible from the angle. And then fear consumes you. What if… it’s not there…?

Your body is still naked, though you have been covered with a thick fabric while sleeping, as it now pools at your lap, your Omega scent and that of an Alpha mixed together pleasantly, you turn around.

The Emperor. Lord Morax. Zhongli.

He sleeps peacefully by your side, on your nest, after having mated you.

He stayed.

You stare at his handsome features, fair skin, dark long hair, strong jaw, muscled arms. His lips slightly parted as he breathes evenly. So at ease.

You want to reach out and brush at his hair, touch his face, kiss him.

You want this moment to last forever.

Looking up slightly you see the large mirror, see yourself. A tiny thing, with freaky ears, horns and a tail.

It was… good, while it lasted. Almost like a dream.

Tears start falling down your cheeks again and you try to be as silent as possible as you pull and lift at the bandage in your shoulder. And there underneath it is… something?

Your fingers trace a mark, a wound, it stings and you hiss.

No way. There is no way.

Hope flutters in your chest, your stomach flips and you feel dizzy, nervous. A bonding mark? Is it real? Is it still there?

You shuffle out of the nest as fast and stealthily as you can, standing in front of the mirror. Hair a mess, eyes wide, pale in fear.

And there it is. The clear mark of an Alpha bite, still rather tender. A claim. A bond.

You start sobbing as you trace it, touch it, feel it. It must have been hours, there is no way…

It’s there, it’s there, for real. You want to laugh, to cry, you’re still nervous, scared, hopeful, happy, a million things at once.

But how? Why now?

“Hnng… darling? Are you crying again?” You stiffen as you hear the voice, deep and hoarse, laced with drowsiness. You turn and see him sit up and yawn carelessly like a rishboland tiger. Elegant and intimidating like one too with his bright golden eyes, Alpha fangs and muscled figure. Still naked as well, you note.

“T-the bonding mark… it’s still there!” You exclaim to him, gesturing to it.

“You should let it heal nicely.”

“Y-You don’t get it!” You huff. “My Lord… it’s still there! I’m bonded, I’m yours!”

He chuckles. “Rather, I would say we belong to each other, now.”

Belong to each other.

That sounds nice.

You turn back to the mirror, still staring at it, poking it with a finger softly, as if afraid it’ll disappear, as if it was an illusion, a dream.

But it’s there.

“For years… for years I thought I was doing s-something wrong, that there was something… wrong… with me…” You cry softly. “No Alpha had even bonded me…”

Suddenly you feel strong arms curl around your frame, a chin resting at your shoulder where it kisses your skin, and then brushes over the mark. It stings but you welcome it.

It means it’s real, all of this is.

Zhongli inhales, taking in your scent. “Well you see my dear, a dragonblood… a xiānshòu like you, can only be truly bonded by one of its own kind.”

The words take a moment to process, to sit on your brain, and you frown confused, staring at him from the mirror. And then your eyes widen.

Golden antlers crown his head, majestic and almost glowing, small scales appear under his striking amber eyes, the color of burnt ocher. A large tail, even bigger than yours in golden and brown hues, sways lazily behind him, before finding yours and intertwining with it, the feel is foreign but not unwelcome. Like holding hands.

You turn around so fast you almost trip if it weren’t for his hold. The dragonblood features are still there, in plain sight.

Your throat feels dry.

“You… you’re…”

He raises a finger to his lips and shushes you, then smiles. “I am yours my dear. Just as you are now mine.”

You cling to him and hide your face on his chest as you cry. Overwhelmed, relieved.

Yes, this is where you belong.

#zhongli smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #crys writes #fem reader #PLS I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH????#this took SOOOO LONG SORRY AAAAAAA #idek what to say here lma just enjoy hope ppl like it bc.... it's so long;;;;;#got a pretty header tho serious business :O #LohK #just in case (?)

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a-spes · 2 months

Text

| PRETTY FACES, DARK SOULS - part two (4.070 words).

| Summary - you rob the wrong person, and she makes sure that you pay your debts, willingly or not.

| Tags & warnings - Men & minors DNI, Dark CEO!Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader, nothing else for the moment (I think?)

| MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| part one. part two.

When Natasha realised that you left nothing to her, taking even her cheque book, she had to call her sister, asking her to come and pay for her. Even if she tried to be as nice as she could in such a situation, she couldn’t keep her words from being harsh.

She couldn’t even remember the last time she had felt so humiliated. Natasha Romanoff, known as one of the most successful entrepreneurs of her generation, having to explain to the waiter that she can’t pay, having to ask her sister for money. It is something that shouldn’t have happened, something that needed to be repaired.

If one thing was sure, it’s that Yelena has not been happy to be woken up by her sister’s bad mood, but she complied with her request without questioning it, knowing better than to argue with her eldest.

“Don’t you dare to say a word", she warned when she eventually saw the blonde approaching the table.

She had been sitting here for almost an hour, waiting for her sister who decided to take her time. It was a childish way of avenging the brutal awakening she underwent, and the redhead would certainly have laughed if she wasn’t already irritated, and the youngest’s attitude only made it worse.

On the contrary, when Yelena saw her sister sitting at the table, she forgot about her bitterness, realizing how funny the situation was. She never could’ve imagined her sister calling her because she needed money. She is one of the richest people that exist on earth, and one of the most far-sighted at the same time. She always has her phone, at least two cards, her cheque book, and an absurd amount of cash, just in case.

The smile that grows on her face as she realizes how improbable the situation is earns her a slap on the back of the head, and Natasha never holds back her strength.

“Ouch!" She said, rubbing where she was hit, “it hurts!” She complained, but her sister doesn’t seem to care. In a second, the smile disappeared, giving way to a dark look.

“Shut up", the redhead said, rolling her eyes. She knows her sister as the back of her hand, and she also knows that the strength she put in that slap wasn’t enough to hurt her. She probably barely felt it, and is just too much of a cry baby sometimes. Something that’s pissing off the redhead that is in no mood for that kind of game. “Shut up, or you’ll learn what real pain is", she added, not even trying to hide the threat behind her words.

“You’ve no right to snap at me when I came all the way just to help you", she protested, and if they both knew she was right, her words were greeted by a simple sigh from the redhead who ran her hand over her face. No apologies, just silence.

She couldn’t even remember the last time she witnessed her sister in such a state of distress, but she knows that nothing good came out of it. If she enjoys it when the oldest terrifies her men, she fears the incensed decisions she will inevitably make.

She could burn the whole city if she wanted to.

And Natasha has to admit that the thought crossed her mind a few times while she was waiting for the blonde to show up. She was barely able to control her anger, and couldn’t help but bounce her right leg under the table while her fingers were tapping on the table. But none of these actions helped to calm her nerves.

“I abandoned really important things, you know”, she added, as she took her wallet out of her pocket to put it in her sister’s hand. She had outstretched it toward her, and Yelena didn’t need words to understand what the redhead wanted. “All of that because you forgot your wallet …", she mumbled under her breath, but obviously the other heard it.

“I didn’t forget my wallet, it has been stolen”, she muttered, as if it could make the situation less embarrassing, as if she hoped her sister wouldn’t hear, but none of these statements turned out to be true.

“You’re joking, right?” she asked back, not believing the oldest. “You can tell me, I won’t tell anyone if that’s the case”, she added, sure that her sister was lying to her in an attempt to hide what she probably considered as a weakness.

That’s what her sister always does. Most of the time, she is perfect, but when she inevitably makes mistakes, she always finds excuses. She blames her men, runs away, or pretends it has never happened, and Yelena feels like it’s exactly what’s happening right now. She is thinking that her sister has forgotten her wallet, but doesn't want to admit it.

Maybe because the idea of Natasha being robbed sounds unbelievable.

“I am not lying, someone stole me”, she said again, and her sister better not make her repeat it a third time because she will really lose her temper this time. Everytime she said it out loud, it only made it a bit more real, as if she couldn’t quite believe it before. But the realization is now sinking in, and she feels like she is becoming crazy with all the thoughts that are crossing her mind at the moment. “They took everything", she angrily added, throwing the empty wallet on the table, only for the youngest to check.

And her sister was right. They took everything, not leaving a single penny. The blonde was so shocked that she didn’t even know how to react.

“But … who’s stupid enough to steal things from The Natasha Romanoff?” She managed to ask, once the initial surprise had worn off, “and how did that even happen?” she added, looking at her sister who was now pacing up and down the terrace.

But she knew she wouldn’t get an answer, at least no today. Her sister was ignoring her voice, too busy mumbling things to herself, and she would probably be thrown over the edge if she interrupts, so she waited for them to be in the car to talk again.

She didn’t even complain when the oldest stole her keys, deciding that she will be the one to drive without even asking first. The blonde slipped in the passenger seat, muttering a few insults that Natasha pretends not to hear.

“So, what do you want us to do?” she eventually asked after they’ve been sitting in silence for a few minutes. She was looking at the redhead, the one who was staring at the road, lost in her thoughts.

“Nothing,” she replied, and brought back to reality by the question, she started the car, trying to ignore the look of surprise on her sister’s face.

“Nothing?” she repeated, “so you’re just going to let them go away when they robbed you?” she continued, and the lack of reaction from her sister made her want to shake her sister to get her thinking straight.

“Nothing yet” she corrected her, putting an end to Yelena’s protests. Despite what the other may think, she doesn’t intend to let the culprit be forgiven. It has never been her intention, and she knows exactly what to do to get every penny back.

When she notices the determination in the eyes of the oldest, she knew the next months were going to be interesting. She smirks at the thought.

✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧

This time was the last.

That’s what you said to yourself after every theft, and it has never been true, because you never earned enough to get out of this situation. What you were stealing was usually just enough for you to survive a few weeks, and even if you kept telling that to yourself, you stopped believing that it could become a reality.

It was nothing more than a dream, you head knew it, even if your heart never stopped dreaming about a future brighter than your present. Every night, the day you would eventually be out of misery was the last thing you were thinking about, and you spent hours imagining how it would look like.

You wanted an apartment that would be big enough to welcome the friends you would have made, and a job that you appreciate, but about which you would still complain.

At first, it was only about stealing the essentials, a jumper or an apple for which you would feel guilty for days. It’s when you stopped fearing that someone would catch you that you’ve started to think bigger. The few people who witnessed your theft generally decided that they weren’t paid enough to come after you, a little girl isn't worth their energy.

The years have gone by, and if the number of your victims increased, your wealth hasn’t. That’s when you realized that stealing money from the tourists in the street was not what would give you a better life, and decided to go after the richest people on the earth, the ones that probably wouldn’t even notice if you’d taken a few hundred dollars from their wallet.

One day, you’ll be making so much money that you will be able to pay for your debts.

Slowly, this need to survive has turned into a need for a life where you would have something to call yours. You didn’t want something to eat, you wanted an apartment. You didn’t want stolen clothes, you wanted something bought with your own money. Even a cup or a pen would be enough, as long as you could claim it as yours.

One day, you’ll deserve everything you have.

You stopped stealing almost two years ago, when you eventually raised enough money to start a new life, and the dream became a reality. It took you a lot of time and effort, but you eventually got exactly where you’ve been dreaming of being since your teenage years.

It was thanks to the inattention of this woman who hadn’t blocked her card when it was stolen, neither she declared her cheque book stolen, allowing you to use it as you wished for months. Usually, your victims are quick to solve the problem, leaving you only with the few notes you stole from their wallets.

But this time, you were left with more money than you ever had, more than enough to buy a ticket to another city, and still being able to buy essential supplies after. You could leave, rent a room for a few weeks, just until you find a job and get your first pay, you could even buy some new clothes, and you would still have enough money.

At first, you thought there was a catch, but the days have gone by, they became weeks, months, then years, and if the card and the cheque book never stopped working, nothing bad happened. No one ever knocked at your door, no letter got sent, and the feeling of dread you felt every time you paid has finally disappeared.

Maybe she forgot. Maybe she didn’t even notice. Maybe there was a problem that never got fixed. Maybe it’s just taking a lot of time. You have no idea, but you can’t help but wonder why, thinking about all the reasons that must have led to that situation.

It is fate.

That’s what a part of your mind is whispering to you, and you ask nothing more than being able to believe it, the other part trying to understand the situation without being able to make sense of it. Even after two years, the question was still in the back of your mind, and you’re almost sure that you could still use the card if you wanted to.

But you don’t, because you made a promise to yourself. You swore that, the moment you would earn enough money to support yourself, you would stop using hers. It has been a bit more than a year since you found your job, and this part of your life feels so foreign now. The only reminder of your past is that box, where you’re keeping all the cards, cheque books, and wallets you once stole. The one that’s hidden in your closet, where no one could see it, not even yourself. The one that contains a past you want to forget about.

You now have a job, an apartment, and you even made some friends on the way. They’re good people, hanging out with them makes you feel like you are too. They never asked questions about where you’re coming from, because they don’t need to know, they’re just appreciating you as you are. The grown-up version of who you were once.

When late at night guilt gnaws at your mind, you’re thinking about their compliments. When the sadness at the thought of your younger self never being loved that way, your memories with them remind you that you succeed to become someone that can be loved.

Someone that deserves everything she has.

There is only one person that had glimpses of who you were, and it’s Kate Bishop. Even if you’ve tried to keep your secrets away from her, it’s hard to do so when you’re spending all your days and nights with someone so curious.

Kate is a coworker, a roommate, but mostly your closest friend. It’s not because she understands you more than anyone else. It’s because she never makes a big deal of anything, and you know nothing you could tell her about you would change the way she acts around you. This girl is everything you want to be: free and happy.

Someone that doesn’t care about social norms.

She would sneak into your room in the middle of the night just because she heard you cry. She wouldn’t even ask questions about the reasons behind the tears, only complaining about how thin the walls are, and how she can’t sleep because of that.

She would go through your belongings when she needs something but she can’t ask you because you’re not home, only telling you when she gives the objects back.

She would answer your phone when it’s ringing while you’re in another room or your hands busy, holding the conversation as if the calls were intended for her.

That’s how she discovered you were looking for a new place to stay. You’ve only been coworkers for a few months when she answered your phone. It was the social worker who called to tell you that you’ll have to move out of your flat within the next weeks because you no longer meet the criterias.

Your first reaction was to yell at Kate. It has been the first and only time you’ve done it, usually not minding when she does it.

But this time it was different: you were scared. You didn’t know her a lot at that time, and you were fearing that this call would destroy the relationship you had started to build. You put so much effort into pretending that everything was fine, and had always been that way, that you thought the truth coming out would ruin everything.

She was the first relationship that you didn’t build on lies, at least not on the big ones. She also has been the first to be able to hold a conversation with you for a while. Not Lydia, or any name you might have borrowed by the past, but just y/n.

When you’ve spent your whole life lying, it’s not easy to know who you are.

It was a bad habit that you had a hard time quitting, still having the urge to lie about some details. Maybe to appear as a more interesting person, maybe because you are afraid to disappoint them.

No, it’s because it’s comforting.

It’s what gave you a bit of hope, what gave you the impression that you had a normal life. You’ve never been interested in living the marvelous lives of your alias, you just wanted a normal one for you. Maybe if you tell these stories a lot of time, your mind will accept them as reality.

Over the years, lying became more than a habit: it was an addiction. You felt bad every time you lied to the black-haired, even if it was only about small and insignificant things, like your favourite colour, but you couldn’t just stop. It’s only that day that you realised that it might ruin everything between the two of you.

Everything has been so easy since you met Kate. You never felt like you were too much, or in the wrong place, because she always made sure to integrate you into the team, and you’re still regretting the words that fell from your lips that day.

She was the first genuine friend you’ve made, and that’s how you thanked her kindness, with snide remarks that she didn’t deserve.

For a minute, you saw yourself back there. In that lonely and miserable place.

But she didn’t get angry. Nor for the lies, nor for the horrible things you said. She didn’t look at you with pity, but with something that was closer to surprise, as if she couldn’t quite understand your reaction, but knew enough to not judge. That’s when she asked you to be her flatmate.

Kate was the first one to learn about your favourite colour, the real one, and all your daily habits. From your favourite thing to eat for breakfast to the time you get up, she knows things you never thought you would share with someone one day. Kate has been the first one to see y/n. The one that doesn’t wear any mask, the one that does not need to pretend she is someone else.

Then, it was your turn.

Tonight, when you’re looking in the mirror, the only thing you can see is your smile. A bright, and big one. Even with makeup on, you are not looking or feeling as anyone else than yourself. Every choice has been made by you to suit your taste.

“Are you done yet?” She asked, and you could hear Kate’s muffled voice through the bathroom’s door, “we’re going to be late!” She complained for what’s probably the tenth time in the last quarter, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she was stamping her foot on the other side of the door, throwing a tantrum like a child.

“Isn’t it what celebrities are supposed to do?” you replied, a smug smile on your face as you eventually opened the door after spending more than an hour in the room.

Everything needs to be perfect, and perfection demands time, something your impatient roommate doesn’t seem to agree with. The second you stepped out of the bathroom, she grabbed your arm.

“That’s not funny!” she exclaimed as she started dragging you toward the entrance. You couldn’t help, but roll your eyes at her attitude.

You know that the real reason behind her actions isn’t a concern for punctuality, Kate always being late, but just a result of her excitement for the evening that’s coming: some friends of hers are going to play music in a bar, and she doesn’t want to miss even a second of the show. A simple glance at the clock confirms what you were thinking: you’re not late.

But you also know it’s useless to argue with the black haired woman when she is in that state of mind, so you just go along with it, letting your friend drag you toward the entrance. You have just enough time to grab your bag before you leave the apartment.

You are too focused on your footsteps to be listening to her rambling about the coming party, trying to not trip on your own feet. But she isn’t listening to you either, deaf to your pleas for her to slow down, or to let go of your arm, and it’s only when you arrive at the said bar that you get your freedom back.

✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧

She never forgot.

She has been thinking about what happened that night every day since. The years have gone by, but it never left her mind, and picturing all the ways in which she could get back what you owe her was soothing her to sleep every night.

Despite her impatience, she took her time, waiting for the moment you would’ve forgotten about her, when you would let your guard down, thinking that your past mistakes had been forgotten, and forgiven. Maybe your previous victims did, but she has nothing in common with these guys, and chasing you wasn’t about the money. It was about dignity.

She needed to make you feel the same shame that she had that morning.

Some of her associates don’t understand her obsession, even her sister sometimes suggested that she let it go, fearing that it would jeopardize the company. But she stayed firm; you started a game that night, and she is not the kind that appreciates losing.

She is determined to show you that two can play that game.

It wasn’t difficult to track you down. The only obstacle had been the false identity you built for yourself, but it had only been a matter of months before she found you, there was no way she couldn’t recognize your face on the security tape. It was in the middle of the night, one of those where she couldn’t sleep, and eventually decided that she would rather look for you instead of tossing and turning in her bed, consumed by her thoughts.

That’s when she found it, a footage from a shop’s security camera where your face appeared. You were nothing like the woman she met at the party, from your hair to the way you were moving, you definitely had none of Lydia’s elegance, and she couldn’t even understand how you’ve been able to pretend to be her, and how you’ve possibly been good enough to fool her, The Natasha Romanoff.

But despite the numerous differences, she was sure it was you on that video. There were details you couldn’t change, and the shape of your jaw was one of them. She could still see your face as she had you pinned beneath her that night, her fingers running along your cheeks, wishing that moment would last forever.

Since then, she kept collecting these videos as a kid would collect cards, watching them regularly. The footage made everything make sense, and you seemed closer than ever as she kept hitting the replay button.

She had to admit that you are smart, but not smart enough, and everytime you used the card was one more clue guiding her in the right direction. At first, she was able to track your movements, it only took her a few more weeks before she discovered your identity, and more importantly, learned about your past.

A few weeks, that’s all it took, yet she had waited several years before going after you, deciding it was the right time only when you started building a new life for yourself. You moved to a city where no one knew your name, you got a normal job, and haven’t stolen since. You even made some friends. You got the life you have probably dreamed about since your teenage years, and she knew that perfectly.

She also knew that the moment she would break your illusion of peace, and steal your hope of a better life, you’ll be heartbroken. Hopeless.

She saw how, as the years went by, you started to be less cautious, thinking that your past mistakes were nothing more than faded memories in your mind. She saw how you eventually stopped looking around every time you were going out, how you started opening up to your friends, seeming to forget about what you have done.

But she didn’t forget, and she promised herself that you wouldn’t either. It’s only fair that you pay for your mistakes, isn’t it?

She started the car when she saw you, and Kate, disappear round the corner. You were obviously out for the night, and it was the perfect opportunity. No one would pay attention to the disappearance of a girl, not in a crowded, dark place that reeked of alcohol and illegal substances.

| MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| part one. part two.

| tag list - @thalia-is-not-ok / @tobiaslut

#a spes writing #pretty faces dark souls #marvel fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #black widow fanfiction #dark natasha romanoff #black widow x reader #reader insert #female reader

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bonny-kookoo · 6 months

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Jungkook

𝕽𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | Teaser

Hang the sinner by his wings.

Tags/Warnings: Demon!Jungkook, Human!Reader, Modern fantasy AU, Angst, slow burn, mature themes, hurt and comfort, Tags vary for each chapter

Length: ~4k words per chapter

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

He can't even get you to drink anything at all, but he has to if he wants even the slightest chance at getting that rogue demon out of you.

He tips the cup of water against your lips to aid in getting you to drink anything and replenish what your body so desperately needs during this time- but he knows, deep down, that you can't keep this fight up much longer than you already have. Your soul might be strong, but your body is already hitting its limits- muscles trembling from the force of the most recent attempt made to possess you.

"There you go.." he hums to you in gentle reassurance, unable to contain his affection for you even if you're incapable of returning any of it. He can't help the way his hand runs over your back to try and comfort you, even though he knows it means nothing to you.

You feel nothing for him but indifference. You don't even hate him.

Knowing what he does now, he's aware of the fact that this entire situation is partially, if not entirely, his own fault. When he saved you centuries ago, he also made you very much horribly attractive for houseless demons like the one currently attempting to use you as more than just a host, but even if he knew back then what he knows now, he would've still gone through with it.

He'd save you any chance he'd get. And maybe that's the sickest part of his whole curse.

The knife on the table is another way out for you, of course. A dead vessel is worth nothing to a demon of this kind, and maybe, it would let you rest for once as well- but he knows that even if held against the prospect of eternal punishment, Jungkook wouldn't ever be able to be the one to take your life. After all, he did what he did many lifetimes ago to save it, and not have it taken either way.

He didn't just buy you time.

He bought you the guarantee of a full life, with every reincarnation.

Jungkook helps you back into bed after letting you calm down for a little bit, before he opens the door to let your friend back inside. At the sight of him, you immediately begin to reach out and cry, and the sight alone has his heart in a chokehold.

Or whatever is left of it, in this case.

Your tears are salty in the open scars he has inside of him, but the fact that you can even shed them at all makes the sting feel a little less harsh. He can deal with this, as long as he knows you're getting the life you were almost denied. He can see you smile, and cry, and love-

Even if it's in the arms of someone else.

"She's a lost cause." Yoongi mumbles from a corner, watching Jungkook who closes the door behind him.

"She's not." Jungkook denies.

"You barely made any progress." The fellow demon shakes his head at him. "You're torturing her."

"I'm saving her." The younger demon denies. "Any progress is progress."

"And how long can you stand this, I wonder." The cat eyed man asks, crossing his arms as he leans against the wall behind him. "Let me-"

"No." Jungkook instantly denies. "You'll kill her."

"And maybe that's for the best, my friend." He offers in sympathy. "Why are you chasing after someone who cannot even love you?"

"Because if I don't,.." jungkook mumbles, turning to look at your closed door.

"...then everything I sacrificed has been for nothing."

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts smut #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #bts jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jeon jungkook imagine

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adoregojo · 2 months

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↬ two paths 一 ⦁ nagi.s, reo.m

▶︎ sooooooooooooo... this is some rotting dabble i abandoned, and since Im kind of desperate for any glimpse of motivation, i finished it. and surprise, surprise! its a reo and nagi fic lmaolmao.

▶︎ summary: reo have had a crush on you for a good long two years, and when it's the time to word his love to you, but a obstruct of your part says otherwise. ▶︎ context: nagi is your childhood friend, jealousy, idk if this counts as a love triangle? it's more like your a brick head, some angst (ofc) kind of a plottwist !!gn reader!!

"i like you, I've liked you ever since you stepped into my world, i like everything about you, your smile, your eyes, your gentle hands, your laugh, and most of all your soul that kept me hostage. and i-"

the hang up sound cut him off.

silence fell upon the other side of the phone, only the stillness of the disconnected tone nudging him back to reality. his hold on the phone was a robust one, so stout to the point of a crack to echo. the compound of bitterness, remorse, frustration, all were hefty on the little pinning heart of his.

and with that, you rejected reo, without even saying a word.

and the next days were nothing but a grievous duration, to him the most. as much as reo didn't want to see you for a while, there was no escaping you when you were in the same school, classroom, 一hell, even club. you were in every corner and every ditch, and he'll be a dead lier if he said that your appearance alone wouldn't tiptoe on his heartstrings. reo can stay still ever so firmly and yet you'd still be able to prod him out of his ground as convenient.

reo wanted to be mad at you, to hate you even, but he couldn't, he sincerely couldn't. even when the strain was tense, unbearable, but somehow it also felt pitifully suffocated, graciously. it was you after all, where he felt like a fragile creature under your spell, gosh一 you had reo warped around your finger with cement.

nevertheless, what drove him to the edge was how you operated it. while reo handled it by immersing himself in two blankets and eat ice cream to pacified him to crying himself to sleep. however, you on the other hand was having the time of your life. greeting him good morning to saying goodbyes, even asking him how his day went, did his confession meant that little to you?

reo wondered if you bat an eye, you just denied him after all, but some acknowledgment would've been great. or at least have a talk about it. but instead you acted like it never even happened. the idea of you skipping over his feelings made him sick to his core, it sounded so ill-suited, you above all if not the most considerate, thoughtful person he'd ever met. that's how reo fell for you in the first place.

he wasn't gonna apologies for being selfish, he wanted you to himself. reo kept all his feelings for you bottled up for a good old two years, and he just cannot bare with the fear of someone else stealing you anymore 一something that kept him on trails of restless nights一

maybe that's what herd him away from you, the decedent between the two grew by each day. yet reo loved you too much to live with the consequences of his actions, he can't even look at you without screaming 'why don't you care as much as i do', your sudden unfamiliarity stings him slowly and most of all painfully.

for you to blow him away like a dust that burdens your clothes felt it was caused by a clone, or did he just never knew you like he thought he did?

it ached to see you asking him if he's okay, if you did something wrong to drive him away. and goddamn it hurts seeing you like this, he would rather bang his head to the wall repeatedly than see that anguished expression ever again, and worst of all, reo was the reason for it.

you were heavy on his mind 一as if you weren't already一 the recollection of you standing with your sweaty palms rubbing against each other, a bad habit you do when you get uneasy, he really fucked up to the point where you have became a nervous wreck in his presence. your utter was light, questioning if he even wanted to be your 'friend' anymore.

you weren't the one to blame, reo was the one who stopped talking to you, stopped sitting with you for lunch, he even withdrew the club you two shared 一he didn't even have a liking for it, just joined because you were there一 all that and you still tugged on the last tie of faith reo would walk back into your life with open arms.

but reo didn't want to be your 'friend', not anymore. he wanted to be the one to protect you, to understand you, he wanted to be your man, your other half more anything, for him to be your everything just like you are his. you can't just make heaven a living place on earth then walk away when he was on knees for you.

he left you at halt, saying that he needed some time. you never knew time for what because he walked away before letting you word anything out. so now, his hands buried deep in his pockets, he felt heavy, mind and heart on a race track. he felt awful, the image of you standing in confusion, lost on what to do will hunt him to his grave. he tried running his fingers throughout his violet lockes, he was petty, selfish, and reo knew he could've worded it better instead of this.

from the corner of his eye, he could spot a bunch of flowers fluttering under the rush of air, hit by the sunlight to outshine any other plants besides. he could've think of how beautiful they looked, but no, the first thing that popped out his mind was the image of how bliss you'll be seeing them flourish just the way you liked it.

reo contemplating his actions, the pure, straightforward out of his heart gates confession and how far it had driven him. how beyond it had tossed what you two had. something blended with bittersweetness squeezed within his chest, envisioning of your smile made it a challenge to breathe.

so he keeps on strolling, trying to straighten himself until a familiar tall white headed form comes to his view. ranking ahead of a vending machine, nagi was too busy searching for what it appears to be a coin to even notice reo.

nagi was your friend, the one who watched the two of you downfall in silence. he didn't say a thing about it, didn't get involved and much rather concentrate on his phone-games. but there was something else, nagi have been your friend for what reo have been told since childhood. it was something anyone can figure out in the first glance, nagi doesn't leave your side for what it seems like eternally, he remained as your sidekick for decades. he witnessed all your phases, your growth. and he wasn't planning on departure his spot. it was a rare sight to see nagi not glued to your side, did the sky spare him? did his desperation reaches the empyrean?

"hey," reo announced his presence, nagi's bored eyes soaring over him. so the purple head flipped a coin to his direction, nagi tamed it halfway, staring at the single coin then back at his friend. "need another one." he uttered flatly as ever, so reo push out a sigh as he tossed him another one. the snowy head mummers a low thanks.

"listen, i need to tell you something." reo enunciates after a moment of hesitation, caressing the back of his neck as his lilac hues kept on swirling around. his friend just humming in acknowledgment, supporting his chin with his hand while still examining over the endless optionals of drinks.

"it's about yn."

nagi rattled momentarily, your name was like a cold water on his senses.

well, that was easy. reo thought. "i did something a few weeks ago, and i think i fucked up everything." he says, undertone. as if he was admitting an unforgivable crime.

"what did you do?" there was something off about nagi's tone, his grip on the coins was merciless. but his face still seemed boarded, nonchalantly but oddly firmed for some reason.

"i kind of admitted my feelings to them..."

nagi's daze expression shattered in an instant, not anything crazy, but his eyes grew obscure, casing over reo like a giant blacked cloud.

for nagi to carry that kind of aura was eccentric, that face would only arise every time an unnamed got a little too close to you. at that time, reo convinced himself that he was imagining that, because nagi out of all people stood his ground when it comes to dating, he'd always say the same thing 'dating sounds like a hassle'. and sometimes something wild like 'don't need someone else around, I already have yn.' reo wasn't a backstabber, he only confessed to you because he lived under the roof that his friend wasn't even able to handle anything intrigued with romance.

"i just, been liking them for ages. and i found the strength to finally say it to them, they-"

"hung up on you." the snowy head finished his line, which made reo eyes widen a bit.

he shifted awkwardly, "haha, did they tell you? how embarrassing.." he tried laughing it off, trying to avoid nagi's gaze for his sake.

"they didn't." nagi spoke quickly, voice strained than usual.

"oh? so how did you?.."

"because i did it. i was the one who hanged up."

there was a moment of lull, where not even the waves of wind could sooth over the tension. reo stood still, waiting for nagi to stick out his tongue playfully and shout 'gotcha!', praying for whoever might've fell upon to this to be a sick prank.

"you what?" he doesn't even realize he spoke before the words had already slipped.

nagi sigh tiredly, his fingers still at halt to press the numbers of his wanted drink, he didn't like focusing on two thing at the same time. "i thought you'd figure it out already. man, do i have to explain myself now? what a hassle." he let out softly.

"nagi, you-"

reo doesn't get get the chance to speak, to think, before nagi cut him off swiftly handling the conversation, like he knew this was coming. "listen, reo. i like being your friend, but i can't let you have yn." his words kept hurtling reo, it all poured down at his like a sucker punch.

"i don't understand."

"it's not that hard, i liked them first, i found them first. so they're basically mine."

oh, oh.

it all made sense now. reo felt like an idiot, why is he seeing this now? this is why you were clueless, because you didn't answer it in the first place. why, why was he so rushed to say it and not letting what he thought was you speak first.

every time when nagi would drink from the same bottle of yours, when he would twirl around a piece of your hair randomly, when his head would rest on your shoulder in every ride home, when he would shut down every time reo rambled about you, he just got it. why was he just connecting the puzzle? was his feelings for you so blinding that he couldn't see this?

reo wanted to say something, in fact things. but the lump in his throat clogs his attempts to protests. leaving his mouth agape.

and it was like nagi couldn't get a hold of concern about this, in fact he found waiting for his drinks to make it way down more interesting. yet he sensed a blazing breeze from his friend's direction, it was hard not to when they were on the same burden as an elephant. so the snowy head swiftly retorted, "plus, you already are the standard, right? I'm pretty sure you can find someone else, it'll be better if you found one quicker."

after that, nagi bent over to grab what was supposed to be his lemon tea alongside your favourite one. boredom eyes doubled-dyed at the cans, mostly at yours before blowing out a vague breath一did he just scoff?

"why you.."

"sorry, don't like sharing."

and with that, nagi walked away. head empty with the only maintenance thing was a picture of you as he handed you your favourite flavour with the money that wasn't even his. leaving reo dumbfounding at his back, he didn't get a say on this, like this wasn't even meant for him.

this wasn't a stage he can purchase to himself, not even to earn a role. he felt like a third-wheel in you and nagi's love tale.

it loathes him, brings him to edge even. but most of all, reo now wanted you more than anything.

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #nagi x reader #reo x reader #reo mikage x reader #nagi seishiro x reader

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tetsupeach · 2 years

Text

reaper deku x f!reader

summary - after you die and deku comes to collect your soul he takes personal responsibility for you.

cws - monsterfucking light, he's got horns and a long tongue and is 7 feet tall, sleeps in a nest, collects souls ready to pass on. reader is dead, she's been murdered by her abusive boyfriend, but the story picks up after she's passed. breeding, deku's a gentle dom, huge cock,, uhhh yeah honestly this is pretty soft,

MINORS DNI - please have an age in your bio to interact with this fic.

It’s not that he liked his job, Deku reminds himself as he feels the tugging towards another soul ready for departure, it’s that he feels a sense of duty. He was a shepherd, to most of the people he visited, death was a kindness, a release, and he was sure, already leaping over rooftops, his tattered black cloak dragging behind him, that you would be no different. Like most people, you barely notice his figure darkening the doorway, but oh you poor thing, you can barely move.

“Ohh,” he can’t help it, the sympathetic sound pouring from his lips, what a helpless little human, “So many broken bones,” he muses in a soft coo, squatting beside you. You’re leaned up against the wall of an empty apartment, blood trickling down the side of your face. You let out a little breath, and when he rests his hand on your shoulder the pain dissipates. “I haven’t seen one this bad in a while,” he says, and you gasp in shock, looking up at the dark figure that suddenly appeared next to you.

He was tall, and broad, with a tangle of dark green curls that matched his glittering verdant irises, a smattering of freckles across his nose. He reaches a scarred hand out to you, and you take it, bursting into tears as he pulls you to your feet.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out, “I’m sorry you probably deal with this all the time.” Your voice is softer than he expects, little more than the whistle of a teakettle. He wraps his arms around you, folding your body into his warm chest.

“Actually,” He says, “Most people are angry.” The lump in your throat only grows as the hot tears spill down your face. “They want more time, another chance, and I can’t give it to them.”

“I-I-I’m ready to go,” you blubber, “I’m so t-tired, and everything hurts.” He rubs comforting patterns into your back.

“Let’s take a second,” he says, looking down at the top of your head. “It’s alright, no more pain where we’re headed, okay?” You only cry harder.

“I never,” you sniff and look up at him, “I never had a chance.” He moves one of his hands higher, tangling it in your hair, a question he never asks on his lips.

“Who did this to you?” He says, and you turn around to glance at your body but he catches your chin with a kind smile. “Better not look, hm?” You nod

“W-we could go to my kitchen?” You hiccup and he lets you lead him forward.

“I can make you tea.” He says, opening the cabinet with your mugs in it on the first try.

“Death can make tea?” You ask, and he nods without turning around.

“I’m not death.” He clarifies. “I work for death.” He turns the stove on, filling a teapot with water and looking over his shoulder at you. “I asked who did this to you?”

“M-my boyfriend.” You mumble. “No matter how hard I t-tried, he was never happy with me, and when I tried to leave,” You tremble, unable to finish the sentence.

“No,” Deku coos at you with surprise, as if he hadn’t heard this story a million times before, as if this was new information, “Sweetheart, that’s not love, you deserved to be loved.” You nod slowly, your eyes burning with fresh tears, and the need to comfort you nearly overtakes him.

“No one else wanted me.” You press your lips together. “I never had a chance at all.” Deku takes a box of tea down from the cabinet and inspects you carefully, your skin in the moonlight, your red-rimmed eyes.

“You don’t have questions for me?” He looks over his shoulder at you and you shake your head. “You know it’s not true that no one else wanted you.” He says, sitting down next to you at your kitchen table. “You’re very beautiful, so I’m sure that’s not true.” You sniff.

“Thank you.” You say, and he reaches over and brushes some hair out of your face, his hands ghosting your skin and then returning to his side.

“Tell me what happened?” He murmurs, “I have time.” You swallow, and nod.

“He, he came home, and he was drunk.” Dekus eyes never leave yours while you’re speaking, “And he was upset, about, about something, maybe sports, maybe me. He wanted me to have sex with him, and I didn’t want to, I just, I didn’t feel like it.” Deku gets up, takes the kettle off the stove, and pours the boiling water, setting the steeping tea in front of you with a soft thump. You touch it, half expecting your hands to go through the ceramic, but they don’t.

“This isn’t your fault.” He says, joining you.

“You didn’t make yourself tea?” You ask, eyes widening a little.

“I don’t really, eat.” He explains. “You won’t either, when we leave.”

“Where are we going?” You ask, cupping the mug in your hands, it’s warm on your cool skin. He thinks about it before responding.

“The next phase of existence, it’s different for everyone.” He stops himself, closing his eyes, “I’m, I’m sorry, you’re not,” he swallows, “You shouldn’t be, you shouldn’t be okay with this,” the pain is evident in his voice, “You should be fighting me, you should be kicking and screaming, you should be begging for a chance at revenge!” You take a long slow breath in, lower lip trembling.

“I know this isn’t what you meant,” You mumble, throat tight, “But what I heard was that I can’t even die correctly.” You bury your face in your hands. “Can we just, can we go, to whatever’s next?”

“No!” He says, scandalized. “No, we can’t.” He takes your hand and pulls you out of your chair, “There had to be things that you always wanted to do?” You wipe one of your eyes. You’d had dreams once, maybe as a child, in those limited golden-tinged memories, you’d had things you’d sworn to do before this, the most human of inevitabilities.

“I can’t think of anything.” You whisper, and he shakes his head.

“Sure you can, is there a place you thought of going?” You think about it hard, at one of the jobs you’d had, at one point, your life was already blurring together, one of your co-workers had a

“Um, I guess I wanted to see Venice?” He yanks you down the hallway, and out into the summer drizzle. “What the hell are you doing?” He doesn’t answer, pulling you up into the clouds, you’re not flying exactly, there’s hardly any movement, except the turn of the planet beneath him. “Hey,” you try to get his attention hanging from his forearm as you move higher into the sky. He holds his posture, but you dangle like a christmas ornament, “Hey,” you say again, louder, and with a soft grunt he lifts you, holding you to his chest while he flies, wrapping his cloak around your body. After a few seconds, you’re flying over an ocean, moonlight sparkling on the dark waters, clinging to him, shivering in the cold.

“We’re obviously going to Venice,” He says, a touch of frustration in his voice. “I want you to see, something, something you can mourn, you need to. It’s human, it’s healthy.” You look up at him.

“Why are you so concerned?”

“It’s part of my job.” He says, “To guide humans. To take them to the places they need to go. And I decided you and I go to Venice, now.” You wrap your arms around his neck and feel his hands on your waist. As you touch down on the cobblestones, the moon is high, glittering on the canal. He leads you down the street, people don’t stop to look at you, you gather after he walks straight through a lampost, because they can’t see you. You’ve been walking for a few minutes, he doesn’t let go of your hand. You look down at it, his nails are varnished black, the fingers long and thick. Everything about him is big, you realize, even more so on the tiny Eurpean streets.

“Am I dreaming?” You wonder out loud, and he looks down at you.

“No.” He confirms. “Does this help, though, being here?” You sigh, shivering, the air is cool and wet. You swallow.

“I don’t know.”

“I could get you ice cream.” He says, a touch of desperation to his tone.

“I had a dream, once.” You say, so softly, he has to lean in to hear you at all. “I wanted him to love me.” You breathe the last word, “I want him to touch me softly, because,” you gesture around the piazza, remembering that it was the honeymoon in your co-workers photo and not the sinking city you’d longed for, “I wanted a real love.” Your lip trembles. “And I’m never going to get it.” The tears fall again. “No one ever touched me softly,” you look up and meet his eyes, his face is completely unreadable, “And I’ll never know what that’s like.” You gesture weakly. “This is pretty but, when the people go, it’s just stone, and water, and spores.” You look at the lichen climbing up the side of the fountain. “And now I’m dead.” He swallows and looks down at you.

“I’m not sure how to fix that.” he admits. “I don’t usually do this.”

“Take someone’s soul to Italy before you take them on?” You sniff, wiping your face. “I’m sorry I think, I just want it all to be over.” Deku presses his lips together and frowns before speaking again, a touch of childish desperation creeping into his voice.

“It’s just that, the little parts of being alive are so fascinating to me,” he giggles at the thought, “Did you know some humans, when they date, take pictures of each other, and make it their little um, their phone screen?” You nod. “And I’ve seen,” he keeps chattering excitedly, I’ve seen them ah,” he stops himself, searching for the word, “Do this thing, where they’re lying down together, and they kinda fit their bodies into each other?”

“Spooning?” You offer, and he beams.

“IS that what it’s called?” He fidgets, and you can see his long dark nails, more like talons in the darkness. He was so excited, so sweet.

“Um, I could, if you want I could show you, more of the things humans do when they’re in love?” He brightens, and when he smiles, the hood of his cloak falls off his head. In the dark moonlight, you can seek the skeleton underneath his skin, underneath the human glamour part of him.

“Oh, sorry.” he says, jerking the cloak over his head again, his ‘humanity’ restored. “I would, I would like that though.” He takes your hand. “Like, this, did I do this right, when I was comforting you, I’ve seen movies I-”

“This is fine.” You say, giving him a tiny encouraging smile that just cuts all the way through his chest. “But isn’t it better like this?” You carefully interlace your fingers with his. His hand is cold to the touch, but his face warms, a long breath escaping from his chest.

“Oh,” he says, “Yes it feels, so much closer?” You squeeze his hand, and he gets redder.

“You were good, ah, especially when you um,” You step into his personal space again and bury your face in his chest, he nods, understanding, cupping the back of your head in his free hand.

“Like this?” He asks, and you can feel the rumble of his voice from his chest.

“Yes,” you sigh, a little more warmth to the sound. “It helped.”

“What else,” he says, the desperation back in his voice, “Please I want, I want to understand better, for the people I guide.” You nod into him.

“You could lean down, and kiss the top of my head.” He follows your orders, his mouth lingering on your scalp, inhaling your scent. You smell like cigarette smoke, and vanilla perfume. “And I would do this,” You breathe, wrapping your free arm around his waist, and going to wrest your other hand from his but when you pull at it, his grip tightens, and an animalistic snarl rips from his chest. You jump and gasp with fear but apologies are spilling from his lips immediately.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he says, “I just, I guess, I’m feeling protective, I want to keep holding your hand, please, ah,” you look up at him, his face is so genuinely contrite it breaks your heart, “May I please keep holding it?”

“Ah, yes.” You say, and he smiles at you, the skin around his eyes crinkling. “Can we keep walking?” You ask, and he nods. The two of you stroll through the streets of Venice at night, and the temperature drops considerably as the moon gets higher. You’re standing at the dock, looking out at the ocean, when you start genuinely trembling, and he speaks again, handsome face contorted with concern.

“Ah, are you cold?”

“Y-yes.” You choke out, still in only the tank top and pajama shorts you’d died in.

“I can um, I can give you my cloak if you don’t mind that i’ll look less human.” He offers, and you shrug.

“I can’t imagine that after all that,” you remember your crumpled form, the black spots appearing on your vision as your boyfriend stumbled out of the room, so drunk he was blind to what he’d done, “That I looked human.”

“No, I suppose not so much.” he says, remembering a scene from a movie he’d watched on a day off, taking your chin in his hand roughly, then jumping back and releasing it, “Sorry, I wanted to touch you, but I, I did that wrong?” You nod quickly, and he looks sheepish, reaching back and touching his own neck. “Sorry.” He repeats.

“No it’s alright,” You say, taking his hands and arranging them on your face so that he’s cupping it, his thumbs resting on the top of your cheeks. “Like this.” He strokes your skin for a moment, lost in the high planes of your face reflecting in the moonlight, the only sound the water lapping the dock you're standing on, the boats nudging each other. But then another shiver runs up your spine, and he practically rips off his cloak, draping it around your shoulders, bending down so that he can properly arrange it on your shoulders. In the bright silver moonlight, he stretches into a truer form. He’s a little hunched, and much closer to seven feet than six. There are two white bony horns peeking out of his green hair, and his canines are long and sharp in a distinctly inhuman way. In the direct moonlight, you can see right through his skin. But other than that, he’s built like a man, the largest man you’ve ever seen, but a man nonetheless.

“Wow,” you stammer, drawing his cloak around you. He laughs.

“You’re not afraid?” He asks, and your mind flashes to the fear you knew in your life, the way you’d come to jump at loud noises, the way just the scent of whiskey could send you into a tailspin, and you shake your head.

“I’ve seen worse.” You say softly, and he nods, understanding.

“Ah.” He offers you his hand, now with long talons at the end. You take it, and he carefully, painstakingly interlaces your fingers. “Can I,” he starts, and then you watch him stop himself, second guess, and then barrel forward, “Can I, what I mean, is that,” he pauses, struggling for the right words. “I would like to, to kiss you, if I can.” Your eyes widen.

“Oh!”

“I mean, not if, not if you don’t-”

“No it’s just-”

“It’s totally okay,” he flashes his palms at you, “I get it if you-”

“I want to.” You cut him off again, and he looks at you, shock coloring his handsome features. “I just um,” you look around, “I know no one can see us, but I’d prefer if we could go somewhere um, private?” He nods, squeezing your hand.

“My place?”

“You have a place?” You ask, as he lifts you back up into the air, and you watch the moonlight glitter on the dark ocean.

“My shift’s been over for a bit.” He explains, a little guilt creeping into his expression. “We work for three weeks about, your time. You were my last job.”

“Oh.” Something twinges in your gut. “Can I ask you something?” You look down, Venice is tiny below you, nearly disappearing into the sea. “What ah, what are you?”

“I serve death.” He explains, lifting you easily so that you’re cradled against his chest, swaddled like a baby. “In all of their forms, as the raven queen, as the devil, as the moon, whatever form you’ve given them.” He shifts you a little so that your head is resting on his pectoral. “You might call me ah, a demon, I suppose, but that comes with such a negative connotation.”

“What should I call you, then?” He glances down at you, it’s incredible to him, how easy you’re taking this, how quickly you accepted death, how you don’t seem to be afraid of him, it feels, dreamlike.

“Call me Izuku.” He says as you break through a huge white cloud. The world around you blurs and suddenly you’re not flowing up, but down, down towards a ground that looks like a rocky mountainside. “It’s a reflection,” he explains, seeing the look on your face, “Sometimes when you’re looking in the mirror and you see something behind you, you are seeing us.”

“Izuku,” you say, and oh god his given name on your lips is heavenly, so sweet and short, a cooing, breathy sound. His mouth goes dry as he lands on the dirt path, leading to the mouth of a cave. “Is this allowed, I don’t want you to get in trouble.” He stretches a little, setting you on the ground, you’d have to go back, eventually, he thinks, but there was a way, a way to ensure you’d be his forever.

“They might notice, in a century, that you didn’t report to where you’re going.” He yawns. “But it’s so kind of you to care.” He leads you to the mouth of the cave, which has a huge nest of blankets and twigs, the occasional moss accent softening a corner. Flickering torches hang on the walls, creating long dancing shadows on the floor. He helps you into the nest, lifting your body up and over the lip of it so that you slide to the soft bottom, then leaping into it after you. It’s cozy and much less fragile than it looks,

“I like this,” you breathe, startling even yourself at how, right it feels to be here. He blushes a deep crimson.

“You like my nest?”

“It seems,” you shift your weight a little, “It seems sturdy.” Warmth spreads across his chest.

“Thank you.” You’re sitting cross-legged on the blankets, with him kneeling in front of you. “Where do I um, how do I start?” he asks, and you take his huge hands guiding them so that one of them rests on your waist, and the other is cupping your cheek.

“Now press your lips to mine,” you say, eyes wide and kind, full of the most beautiful innocence - god he was going to - “Softly, at first.” You instruct, speaking the words almost into his mouth. “And you can use your hands to move me where you want me.” His hand on your waist tightens, digging into the softness of your skin there as he leans farther forward, experiencing the gentle ecstasy of closeness. Your body is warm, so warm compared to him, he can’t help it, he wants more, using his leverage to push his tongue between your lips, guiding you down on your back so that he can feel every curve, every contour of you against him. It’s been so long, he works so hard, and there are so many intricacies to your anatomy, so many places he can press his lips to make more music spill from your mouth. Where he’s hard and cold, you’re plush and warm, and the little gasp you make when he accidentally grazes his teeth against your lower lip practically sets him on fire, a low growl ripping from his chest. You tug on his hair, guiding him from your mouth to the crook of your neck, pulling another hiccupping gasp from your lips.

“I-izuku,” you choke out, it feels good, his tongue long and rough on your skin, but, “It’s o-okay, you can touch me,” another sound rumbles from him, somehow even more feral, as both of his hands move up to palm your chest, rutting his hips desperately against yours.

“Want you, gotta get your ready for me,” he growls, “Please, fuck, I need-”

“It’s okay,” you breathe, more sure of this than anything in your life, “I want you, I want you, I can handle it.” He pulls off of you, face flushed, heart racing, as he rips your pajama shorts off of you and dives between your legs. It’s like he’s sucked the air from your lungs, bright lights exploding behind your eyes as he presses his nose against your clit and slides his long tongue into your core. “Mmmmm,” He groans, rolling his hips against the ground, roughly taking your thighs in a bruising grip as you writhe with pleasure, the vibrations of his voice only sending you higher.

“‘Zuku,” you choke out, as he laps at you greedily, “Feels, feels so good.” He growls into your warmth again, pressing himself deeper into you. You tangle your fingers in his hair, guiding his movements against you, he lets you set the rhythm but any time you try and squirm away from him, any time the pleasure becomes too much, he locks his arms around you tighter, holding you in place. You meet his gaze, eye narrowed and intense.

“Mine,” he says, before slipping a finger inside of you. You keen at that alone, the possessive undercurrent to his voice making your face hot and mouth dry. “Mine,” he says again, knuckle deep inside you, pressing against your velvet walls as you gasp and mewl. “Say it.” He demands, his demeanor completely different. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m,” you swallow, he curls his one finger inside of you and your back is practically forced into an arch, pleasure building, the hot coil in your stomach growing tighter. “I’m yours, I’m yours, Izuku,” you cry out over the lewd squelch of his finger inside you. He adds a second one, scissoring them inside you, and he marvels at the way it sends a shudder throughout your entire body, you just can’t stay still for him, even yelping when he sinks his teeth into the soft skin at your hips, delighting in the way you’ve completely come undone at his touch. He can feel his cock straining against his pants, with every wanton moan that escapes your lips, it gets harder, desperate for some kind of friction, to replace his fingers in your warm, wet, cunt.

“Fuck,” you choke out, looking at him again, soft eyes glistening with tears, and somewhere inside of him, a damn breaks. With a feral grunt, he takes you roughly by the waist and lifts you in the air, flopping on his back as he positions you above his crotch, watching your eyes widen with fear as he pulls his length out from his pants. He’s huge underneath you, shoulders wide and flat, his shirt sticking to his sweaty abdomen. You reach for it, tugging it over his head and leaning back, bracing your hands against his hips, raking your eyes down his scarred muscle to the trail of green hair leading to the largest cock you’ve ever seen, purpled with need and curving slightly.

“C’mon,” he growls, “C’mon baby, take it, you can do it.” You swallow, heart thrumming as you sink down, your walls stretching taking even the head of him. “That’s it,” he says, dark eyes glittering, as you let out a soft whine.

“S-so big, ‘Zuku,” you mumble, closing your eyes as you feel a light slap on your thigh,

“Look at me,” He says, “Focus on me,” You lower your hips a little more, your mouth dropping open as the stretch starts with a sharp pain that melts into pleasure. He sits up a little, taking your thighs in his hands, kneading at them before pressing another kiss to your lips. “Take it baby, you can take it,” he says, as you keep sinking lower, your eyes completely losing focus as your soft walls flutter around him.

“Ah,” you moan, biting down on your lower lip, you’re still only about halfway. It’s not just that it’s the longest cock you’ve ever seen, it’s wide, and there’s so much space between your hips and that tuft of green hair at his hilt.

“Look at me,” He says again, authority seeping into his tone, and you obey, shivering with pleasure, “Look at me,” you nod, “You’re gonna take my cock, angel, alright, like a good girl, and then I’m gonna make you feel so good no one else is ever gonna matter,” you nod, and keep going, ignoring the stretch, tuning everything out but his loud groans.

“‘Z-zuku,” you mumble, trying not to break eye contact with him.

“No one else,” he says, his voice dark, his eyes narrow and possessive, “‘M gonna ruin you for anyone else.” You roll your hips a little as you finally, finally take all of him, settling down on top of him as you feel every inch, every vein, pulsing, so hot inside you.

“So f-full,” you breathe, reaching for him and instinctively, he holds your hand, just like you taught him.

“What a good girl,” he coos, and watches you preen at the praise, squeezing your hand, “Ready for me to move, baby, ‘m gonna fuck you so good baby,” You whimper, and he sits up eyes wide with concern. “Is it too much I-”

“I want you to kiss me,” you mumble, embarrassed at your desire for intimacy, but he beams at you before crashing his lips against yours at the same time as he thrusts his length inside you, letting you moan into his open mouth, not letting go of your hand as he slowly begins moving inside you. You collapse into his chest and he takes it in stride, burying his face in your neck, biting down on your soft flesh, as the pleasure overtakes him.

“So good,” he chokes out, moving you up and down his cock, feeling your walls flutter and squish around him, “Such a good girl, baby,” he breathes, “F-fuck, takin’ all of me, so good, such a good fuckin’ girl,” he snarls the last word, slamming into you hard, eliciting a sharp keen from your lips. He can’t tear his eyes away from the way you’re stretching to accommodate him, watching his cock disappear between your soaking folds, groaning loudly at the way you squeeze around him.

“More,” you beg, holding his hand more tightly, “More please, ‘Zuku, I can take it.”

“Fuck yes you can,” He breathes, picking up the pace, fucking you harder, letting you completely relax against his chest as he thrusts upward into you, watching your chest bounce with every roll of his hips, lifting your head up so that he can kiss you sloppily again as he feels himself scrape against your walls. “Fuck yes,” he repeats, speaking into your mouth, refusing to let go of your hand,

“Can I,” you stop speaking as a particularly hard snap of his hips against your sucks the wind from your lungs, “Can I cum?” He blinks up at you, the idea of it registering, and then whatever self-control he’d been holding on to dissipates. He flips you on your back without pulling out and pins both of your hands next to your head as he fucks you into oblivion.

“Cum for me,” He snarls, “Cum for me, I want it, I wanna feel you cum on my cock, baby come on,” you writhe underneath him, completely lost in the sensation the coil in your stomach hot and tight, you’re teetering on the edge of your high as he leans down and speaks in your ear, his breath on your neck, “I said,” he growls, voice completely different, dark and threatening, “Cum for me.” It’s like you’ve been shoved off a cliff, you clench down on him hard, losing complete control of your limbs and your mind, babbling praise as he carries you through your orgasm. He chases his own high, thrusts sporadic, in time with short low grunts, as he explodes inside of you, staying hard with the single-minded thought of getting his cum as deep within your cunt as possible, of marking your womb and your body as his.

“Mine,” he says, over and over as he watches you unravel, your tongue lolling as your orgasm rips through your body, noticing the marks he’d littered on your neck and chest, the bite marks and bruises making him somehow even harder. It’s a few minutes, before he finally stops cumming, collapsing on top of you, still not releasing your hand. He crushes you against his chest, wrapping himself in blankets as you come down, finally pulling out of your pussy with a soft groan.

“Izuku,” you breathe, still barely present. “Izuku, am I,” you swallow, “Is this, ah,” you pause, catching your breath but he presses a single finger to your lips.

“Shhh,” he breathes, “You’re mine, baby, all mine, nothing bad, is ever going to happen to you, ever again.” You lift your head sleepily.

“Yours?”

“Mine.” He confirms and feels you relax against him. He watches you drift off to sleep, stroking your hair, peppering your face with kisses, whispering praise. After all, his hands brush your stomach, if you weren’t pregnant yet he’d just have to try harder next time.

“I’m not asking your permission,” he says quietly, nestling you in his lap, “But just so you know, I’m going to kill your boyfriend.” You blink up at him, brain still operating at 1%.

“Really?” You breathe, eventually, and he nods.

“Yeah.” He presses his lips to your forehead. “I’m gonna take such good care of you.” You snuggle against him, sleepy, fucked out, in a demon's nest, about to fall asleep against his chest when he speaks again. “And you’re gonna give me the sweetest babies,” he coos, and your blood turns to ice, nerves overtaking you.

“What?” You ask, suddenly wide awake, staring up at him. He just nods.

“I don’t know much about romance,” he says, with a sheepish shrug, “But I do know you’re gonna be so beautiful,” you feel his lips on your neck, “Carrying my babies.” You swallow, remembering your mother, doing everything on her own, barely present.

“Y-you’ll help me, right?” You beg, and he pulls away from you, scandalized.

“Of course!” His eyes widen. “Of course, I will.” You close your eyes, putting the cold darkness of your human lift behind you, wrapping your arms around your demon's neck.

“Alright, then,” you wrap your legs around his body. “I’ll be yours, Izuku.” He pets your head, “Can we sleep?” He pulls you down into his pile of blankets, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, nestling you against his chest, and the only sound in the cave is his soft, even breath, and the crackling of the flames of the torches affixed to the wall. “Oh wait,” you sit up, and his heart breaks into a sprint, he could stop you from leaving, from running but he’s not sure he can handle the idea of being rejected - “We could spoon, um, if you want?” There’s a moment, where he processes what you’re offering, letting him lie down on his side and lying down behind him. You hook your arms under his, pressing your chest against his back. “Do you feel safe?” You ask in the tiniest, sweetest voice, his heart shatters, his hands ache for you, but he answers simply, voice trembling as tears spring to his eyes.

“I think,” he says, “No one’s ever touched me softly either.” You bury your face in his neck. “Hmm,” you sigh sleepily. “I’ll teach you.” He swallows, nodding, and his next thought hits him like a train. God, was he going to make your boyfriend fucking suffer.

if you enjoyed this please consider reblogging/commenting. it really helps my reach - much more than liking will.

#mha smut #bnha smut #deku smut #midoriya smut #izuku midorya smut #midoriya izuku smut #midoriya x reader #midoriya x reader smut #deku x reader #deku x reader smut #deku x you #midoriya x you #midoriya izuku x you #izuku x y/n #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x you #midoriya izuku x reader

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rainylana · 1 year

Text

“It’s time to go to the doctor, baby.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: an evening at steve’s takes a turn for the worst.

warnings: undiagnosed bipolar, disassociation, depression, language. i have bipolar so this is my experience, it might be different for anyone else so please bare that in mind. it can vary from person to person. i hope this reaches the right audience. having bp is life altering, but we get through it! you’re not alone <3

You only went because you knew how excited Eddie was to see his friends, and you had been too, but when you woke up, you knew it was going to be another one of those days. Something was wrong with you. You didn’t know what, but you knew it was bad. Your body was changing and not for the better. You were too scared to go to the doctor, petrified of what could potentially be wrong with you. Your worst fear was finding out maybe you had cancer or some life threatening disease.

Eddie knew to some degree that you were suffering, but you didn’t let on how much it bothered you. As far as he knew, you were just depressed, in a phase that you would eventually get out of. Neither of you knew how serious it actually was. All day you’d done your best to keep your head high and a smile on your face, and you’d done very well considering.

You were hanging out at Steve’s watching the new Friday the 13th, both Robin and Dustin where there. You tried your best to pay attention to the screen in front of you, but you couldn’t remember what had even happened in the previous scene. Eddie was to your left, hand on your leg, and Dustin was to your right munching on popcorn.

You felt so drained, but not like a tired kind of drained, the worst type of exhaustion you could ever imagine. It was like being run over by ten trains, thrown into a volcano and being punched by a wwe wrestler. That kind of exhaustion. The kind where all you wanted to do was lay on the floor, despite the fact the room was full of people. You couldn’t pay attention to the tv, you kept forgetting what was happening. You didn’t even feel like your body was present, your mind somewhere off far away in wonderland or oz.

It scared you when this happened. Eddie’s hand on your leg felt fuzzy and unreal, Dustin’s shoulder that brushed against yours felt nonexistent. You felt nonexistent. You felt as if your soul was suspended in the air and you were looking down at your body. But how could you explain that to Eddie? He’d think you were crazy, surely! So you suffered in silence.

This had been going on for almost six months. The only person who knew was Eddie. He’d been trying to convince you to go to the doctor to get out on some sort of medication for depression, but you felt ridiculous. It surely had to be all in your head. But tonight, it was starting to take it’s toll on you, the exhaustion.

You felt this overwhelming amount of dread cover your body, like a dark cloudy blanket that dampened your mood like rain. You wanted so badly to cry, but you couldn’t muster up the tears.

“Snack break, anyone?” Steve asked, pausing the movie with the remote.

“Got any of those nacho cheese chips?” Eddie patted your leg.

“You mean doritos?” Dustin laughed, giving him a sideways glance.

All three of the boys laughed and ventured off to the kitchen, leaving you sit in your silence. It felt so good. The tv off, only a flicker or two of static. You felt your brain relax, and you allowed your tears to fall. Your breath hitched in your throat and your face crumpled together. You covered your mouth so no one could hear you, your fingernails digging into your lips.

It took you over, and even though you were sitting on a perfectly good couch, the floor was just calling your name. You crawled off the couch, sinking down to the cold, hardwood floor and curling into a tight ball. Your body relaxed into it’s dead weight, and you let out a whimper that made you shiver.

Their voices sounded underwater, their footsteps vibrating the ground beneath your ear, sounding like loud thumps. You could hear their laughter and giggles, high fives, all muzzled and fuzzy like the tv screen. You could hear Eddie’s voice get closer, high pitched and alarmed. You felt his hands grip your body, trying to pull you up off the floor, but your dead weight wouldn’t allow it. You blinked tiredly, not wanting to communicate with him. You could hear Dustin and Steve come closer.

“Baby,” Eddie shook you, face close to yours so he could search your eyes. “Y/n, what happened! What’s wrong?” He panicked, looking you over for any injuries.

He frowned at the sight of your tears, quiet ones that rolled over your nose. “Sweetheart? Talk to me, angel. Are you alright?”

His palms swiped your cheek to collect your tears, petting your hair and trying his best to lift you off the floor.

“Tired.” You managed to mumble, crying lightly with your hands tucked to your chest. “I’m so tired, Eddie.”

He narrowed his eyes in confusion.

“Is she okay?”

“What happened?”

“Should we call an ambulance?”

He ignored the panicked voices of Steve and Dustin, holding his hand to shush them. “Tired?” He said gently, lifting you up into his lap. “Why are you tired, honey?”

You shrugged your shoulders, moving your eyes upward so you could see him. “Something’s wrong with me.”

It clicked to him then what you were referring to, and his face dropped, leaning his forehead to yours as he sighed deeply. “It’s time to go to the doctor, baby.”

You didn’t argue this time, nodding gently. “Yeah.”

He gave you a kiss on your cheek. “Wanna go home? You want me to carry you?”

You allowed him to lift you up in his arms, burying your face in his chest as he opted to leave your shoes at the door. He’d come back and get them tomorrow. He gave a farewell and an apology to his friends, saying he’d explain later as he took you out to his van.

He held your hand on the way home with you laying on the seat, head in his lap. When he got you both home, he carried you inside and laid you on your bed, helping you out of your clothes and into your pajamas. He tried to get you to talk, to open up, but you couldn’t muster up much. You kept saying you needed to rest, you needed quiet.

Eddie was as scared as you to find out what the doctor would have to say.

#lana’s shit post #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson angst

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white-wolf-buckaroo · 4 months

Text

In his own twisted way: Prologue

So here it is! First part of my new daughter of Ares fic! I hope you love it as much as I do <3

Word count: 2100 ish words

Warnings: mention of character death

Fic masterlist here!

Ares hated children.

He hated their whining, their crying, their clinging. He didn’t care for the drawings they did, or their “cuteness” or their wonder for everything new around them, and he hated when they cried like babies because of a scrape on their knee, or when they had nightmares and wanted to be held.

He didn’t like them, not even his own.

He hated how they reminded him of his own weaknesses. He hated how they made him feel something other than anger, something he couldn't name.

But he couldn't hate her. Not entirely. Not when she looked at him with those big eyes, so much like her mother's, and a grin every time she saw him at her doorstep. Not when she smiled at him with that gap-toothed grin, so innocent and trusting, a polar opposite as to how everyone else looked at him. Not when she held his hand with her tiny fingers, so warm and soft, completely trusting him to lead the way.

She was his youngest daughter. Her name was Emily, and just as his other children, he hoped she would grow up to be a troublemaker, a rebel, and a fighter. Someone like him. He had hoped she would make him proud, or, maybe more fitting for him, at least amused. Useful for his battles.

And at barely six years old, she was a true daughter of Ares: she loved adventures, exploring the wild, she didn’t mind getting messy or dirty, and she stood up to whoever opposed to her. However, she was also gentle, kind, curious. She loved nature, and stories, and the stars, and learning. Her little soul was still pure… something Ares bewondered, even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself.

But she was a mistake. A mistake he had made with a mortal woman, which he had tried to ignore, and he almost succeeded at it; he had visited her very few times, enough for her to know who he was, but not sufficient for him to get attached.

Until the day he found out she was dead.

Her mother, not the girl. The woman he had once loved… or, more like, had had a relationship with, was dead. The woman who had birthed and raised their daughter alone, without his help, without his care. She was now gone, leaving their daughter orphaned, alone, and unprotected.

Ares had been fond of her. He hadn’t loved her, no, not really, or at least, not in the romantical way. She had been someone he shared interests with, with whom he formed a connection with, and as a result of that, came Emily. As an immortal being, he was more than accustomed to death (it kind of came in the job description for being the god of war), and especially the death of mortals; their lives were brief, like the blink of an eye, and it rarely affected him anymore, if ever.

But Emily was alone now, without any family left, and even if he was the god of war, and all the brutality and horrors that came with it, he wasn’t exempt of having feelings (on the contrary of what he said about himself). They were the reasons why he found new lovers from time to time, and had children with them every once in a while.

Even the god of war longs for some sort of connection and human emotion.

So he had no choice. He couldn’t have Emily live with him, for obvious reasons, and he also didn’t want that. No, he’d take her to the only place where she would be safe from the monsters that would end up eventually finding her: camp Half-Blood. The camp for demigods, where his other children were. The children he hated, and who hated him back.

He was sure Emily would end up hating him as well. They all did… it was only a matter of time.

So there he was, driving a car towards Long Island, with little Emily sleeping in the backseat, her head leaning against her teddy bear, breaths even and rhythmic. He tried to not pay attention to her wet cheeks, still glistening with tears shed for her mother, or how she had raised her arms up at him upon seeing him when he picked her up, wanting to be comforted by her father; Ares tried to not think about how much she trusted him, with his rough exterior, and without really knowing him, and most importantly, he tried to not think much about how moved it made him feel.

The car stopped in the middle of the road, not too far away from the entrance to camp, hidden in the heart of the forest. Ares reluctantly turned off the engine, and silence followed, only broken by Emily’s breathing, and the faint sound of morning rain falling on the roof of the car.

Ares took a deep breath, pushing back the conflicting emotions that surged within him.

He didn’t know why he was feeling like this. It made him extremely uncomfortable in his own skin, and that was something he didn’t experience often. Perhaps Aphrodite had played some trick on him… making him actually feel something at the prospect of leaving his young daughter all alone at camp half-blood. Something like… dread, and pain, and not the one he was used to. This was pain that came from other feelings he had, that usually blossomed in his chest the few times he visited Emily, or when he looked at her from the rearview inside that car, watching her sleep soundly.

But he didn’t know how to do it. He didn’t know how to be a father, he’d never really had good role models to learn from. He didn’t know how to comfort children, talk to them… or hell, love them. And he didn’t want to even try to… because that wasn’t like him. He hated children. Why even care about his own? He was an Olympian, and Olympians didn’t do that.

When the rain stopped, Ares stepped out of the car, and went to the backseat; Emily only stirred in her sleep when he fumbled with the seatbelt, the unfamiliar task more challenging than he’d like to admit, and she kept on sleeping when he took her into his arms out of the car.

She had with her only her teddy and a small backpack filled with her essentials; Ares hadn’t grabbed more of her stuff when retrieving her.

On top of the hill, where the whole expanse of Camp Half-Blood could be seen for those who had divine heritage, Ares stood, listening: it was very early in the morning, the sun hadn’t risen yet, and the few people at camp were still sleeping; in a few weeks, most of the cabins would be full of demigod children, running around, training, and relishing in the beginning of summer. Emily would have settled until then, and she’d be ready to begin her training alongside her half-siblings to become a warrior, just as every Ares kid did.

His daughter woke up before sunrise, while he was still standing at the same spot. She mumbled something, her little eyes fluttering open, cheeks warm against the skin of his neck. She clutched her bear tighter, tired.

“Daddy?”

Ares hummed, not used to a small child talking to him in such tender voice. Like everything involving Emily, it made him feel that unfamiliar warmth he was uncomfortable with… but that he longed for when he didn’t have it, missing it.

Emily raised her head, slowly starting to look around, and at Camp Half-Blood. Her new home.

“This is where you’ll be staying from now on” he said, watching her. Her little eyebrows frowned, and then she looked at him, directly in the eyes.

“With you?”

“With people like you” he clarified, making sure she understood it “Demigods. Half-bloods. Remember what I taught you about the gods?”

“You are one. It’s your job”

She didn’t really get it, that was obvious. But she was still very young, and he didn’t really expect her to do so. Compared to him… well, his life had been already so long, that her presence in it was like a single grain of sand in the beach: small and imperceptible.

And yet, she was the only one of his children he had brought to camp himself. The only one who he had stayed around enough time for her to call him daddy to his face. The only, and first one, for many things.

At sunrise, a centaur emerged from the big house at camp, and noticed pretty quickly the silhouette of the god on top of the hill, and the small child in his arms.

Ares watched Chiron make his way slowly up to them, and he set then Emily down to the ground, helping her put her backpack on (which looked comically enormous on her little form); she grabbed his hand when she spotted the centaur, tiny fingers clutching his own, nervous. He couldn’t really blame her: she was facing many changes in a very short period of time.

“Ares” greeted Chiron, reaching them. The god acknowledged him with a nod, watching the centaur shift his gaze from him to the little girl by his side, trying to hide behind his leather coat “Hello there, young lady” Emily shyly waved back at him, and introduced herself after Chiron did “I assume… she is yours?”

“My flesh and blood” answered Ares “She will be staying at camp from now on, permanently”

Chiron nodded, and stretched out a hand for her; Emily, encouraged by a nod from her father when she looked up at him, went to the centaur, still uncertain.

“She will be taken care of here”

“I sure hope so”

Chiron looked down at Emily again, smiling at her, trying to ease up her nerves.

“Let’s go to your cabin then, young lady”

He gently guided her to the pathway that led to camp, Ares still standing there, watching them go. But Emily turned back around before leaving, searching for his eyes.

“Daddy?” she asked, with the same small voice from minutes before when she woke up “Aren’t you coming with us?”

He wouldn’t. He knew it from the beginning, of course, and Chiron also knew it. The pain in his chest, however, was unknown.

Ares told her no, and he bit the inside of his cheek when he saw sadness invading her gaze. She ran up to him, raising her arms up again, reaching for him with tears in her eyes. She was all alone, and he was abandoning her as well.

Chiron looked away, his heart breaking silently for the young demigod, while Ares stood there, conflicted by his feelings (those damn feelings he couldn’t handle).

“Listen kid” Emily still had her arms raised up, not budging, and he gave in, picking her up “You’re gonna stay here, you like it or not. Don’t go soft on me now”

Emily pouted at her dad, sniffling.

“But I want to stay with you”

“Yeah, but you can’t. You’ll stay here. That’s final”

She made a mad face at him (which made her look more like an angry kitten in his eyes, actually cute, but he wouldn’t admit that), frowning.

“You’re a meanie, Daddy”

There it was. She was starting to hate him too. Yep… All of them did.

“Sorry to break it to you, kid, but life isn’t fair”

He set her down, but she didn’t move, instead looking up at him with her big eyes. She looked like him, he noticed then, very much so in her way of staring at his face: she was fierce, but also vulnerable.

“Will you come visit me?”

Ares sighed, waving his hand as if to shrug it off.

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Maybe sometimes. Now go”

Emily sighed, mirroring him perfectly, and obeyed, going back to the centaur. She did look back at him one time before leaving, though, waving at him.

“Bye Daddy. Love you”

Ares felt that uncomfortable pressure in his chest as a response to her words, feeling like his insides tightened, constricted, twisted and turned all over. He watched her go in silence down the hill alongside Chiron, and he dared to take one last look at her before leaving for good, having completed his self-imposed task of taking his daughter to camp.

“Goodbye, little warrior”

Tough exterior be damned, Ares cared for his daughter.

In the quiet of the moment, where no one was watching him, being completely alone, he allowed himself to hope: He hoped she would be happy. He hoped she would be safe. He hoped she would forgive him for leaving her there.

And he also hoped he would someday be able to forgive himself for doing so too.

***

Taglist: @strawberryys-stuff @ladysybilchronicles

#percy pjo #percy jackson fanfiction #daughter of ares #ares #percy jackson #ares x reader #ares god of war #adam copeland #walker scobell #leah sava jeffries #annabeth chase #aryan simhadri #grover underwood #clarisse la rue #dior goodjohn #charlie bushnell #luke castellan #percy series

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weebsinstash · 3 months

Text

Not me sitting here thinking of the most DISGUSTINGLY SELF INDULGENT shit with platonic yandere dad Lucifer that is actually making my heart hurt 😩❤️

There was a TV series called Lucifer where that devil protagonist could utilize his position as ruler of Hell, the dominion of souls who have sinned, to charm people amd look inside of them to reveal their hidden desires or true evils. He could have them spouting their real feelings or blurting out something they were ashamed of or trying to hide, and he could always sort of generally tell what people were thinking or feeling by looking at them

I can't help but think of Hazbin Lucifer having similar powers. You're a human soul down in his dominion of Hell and he can sense the quivering amd shaking of your spirit when you're lying or concealing something from him. You're sitting around the Hotel depressed and in your mind you think "God I wish I could kill myself a second time" and he's quaking out a shocked WHAT from the other end of the room and it's like, Charlie dude ummmm can your dad READ MINDS? And she's all casual, "oh yeah sure haha there's never hiding anything from him :)" and you're sitting there *duck quack sound effect* as Lucifer has basically now made you priority number 2 (priority 1 is Charlie and you're ALSO a priority for her so... you know...)

Lucifer who finds you depressed and crying and trying to bury all your sorrows in liquor and you're getting so drunk you can barely talk and it breaks his heart as a father, that you can't even walk, can barely string together a sentence, just going from inebriated joy to deep, deep sorrow while still trying to be nice to your friend's dad. He's helping scoop you off the floor as you sob your father never loved you and you deserved to die, that you should've killed yourself a long time ago, and he's asking how old you are, or, how old your soul is now, and when you answer he just looks so pained, "but you're still just a baby" and hugs you tightly as he's basically adopting you right that second

Lucifer who finds you crying/flinching in your sleep like you're having a nightmare and he goes into your head and looks at your memories and sees you're having nightmares of being struck as a child. the devil feeling this deep well of disgust gurgling inside of him as he witnesses for himself how many times you were cruelly abused just for acting like a normal kid, how many times your little heart was broken, how many times your little baby hands reached out for help from someone else only to be pushed away, and suddenly, you start having these weird dreams about being a child again. Charlie catches her dad sitting on your bed at your side while you sleep, combing his fingers through your hair as he all but mind-melds with you and she asks what he's doing. the second he tells her what he's seen and how it makes him feel and what he wants to do, she approves and wants to help

Suddenly you start having all these little dreams of being a kid again, but, they aren't scary dreams anymore... no one is bullying you here... in these dreams, you can run around and play and... and... your big sister Charlie is there. Your big sister Charlie and your dad Lucifer. You're small and vulnerable again and Lucifer will call the two of you his little ducklings as he takes your hands and tells you you've all got to hurry or you won't get good seats, and you feel an actual sense of excitement in your heart as he tells you he's taking you guys to the circus

The dream keeps going and going and it's so wonderful and FUN that at some point Charlie and Lucifer watch your little self break down crying, hugging the demonic pair as tight as you can because you know you're going to wake up and... reality is different. No one... LOVES YOU like you can feel here, and you're just bawling. This dream actually kind of makes you HORRIBLY DEPRESSED because you wake up and realize you don't actually have what you were experiencing, that it's just some weird fantasy your brain is cooking up that makes ot awkward to look at your friend and her dad

Meanwhile in the hotel Alastor is poking his head into your room to see you conked out while both Morningstars sit/lay on each side of you with their eyes closed holding your hands or some shit to form the connection and, Lucifer cracks an eye open to make direct contact with Alastor like "interrupt our family moment or say something to them about this, I fucking dare you" and for some reason, Alastor has a sinking suspicion he shouldn't push this, just this one time, or it might end badly for him...

You're waking up accidentally almost calling Lucifer Dad when you see him because you spend almost every night getting to go to amusement parks and play carnival games and eat ice cream and cotton candy with memories of a sister and father you know you don't actually have, but, wait what? Charlie and Lucifer are actually genuinely pushing to spend more time with you? What a lovely coincidence! You wake up really depressed because your 'family' isn't with you and suddenly Charlie peeks into your room and says Lucifer made pancakes for everyone and you're invited to come and you're practically racing out of bed because, oh boy a chance to recreate Dad's pancakes in real life? And that's his exact intention. He doesn't even fucking care that a certain Louisiana gentlemen is shitting on his cooking; if cooking for the whole hotel gave him an excuse to have a "family breakfast" with you and Charlie in the real world for once, he would do it

You're sitting at the table next to Charlie, awaiting your pancakes that you know were made with love and care, and when Lucifer sets down your plate in front of you, affectionately calling you Ducky just like he's done in all your dreams, you're ready to bawl your eyes out??? You're just sitting there tearing up eating homemade pancakes while Charlie is like about to start sobbing because "family is just so beautiful, waaaaaah" and pulls you and her father into a hug

'Family' huh.... it sounds nice... you wouldn't mind having people actually caring about you and looking out for you... too bad you're underestimating how attached and protective of you they already are...

#yandere x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hellaverse #hh #sinprompts

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sodaskateboard · 4 months

Text

Ganyu NSFW Headcanons

AN: Sigh, thinking about my goat wife,, my precious princess, Gender Neutral Reader/ No Autonomy Given for Reader

Cannot dom to save her life

She will cry if you ask her to because she doesn't want to upset you but still just,, can't do it. Poor girl

Sex is very intimate and private for her, so she can't do hook ups or be with someone she doesn't love

She's also had very few, if any, sexual partners and wasn't very interested in sex before you so she's pretty inexperienced

You get to teach her the joy of "stress relief"

She needs it now regularly or else the stress just builds up again. Please. She physically needs it. Please, please, please

She needs constant reassurance and praise

It has to be romantic and sweet and soft

That said, you can tease her a little, but it has to be nice. Don't insult her even as a joke

"Is my sweet girl needy?" you ask her, already knowing the answer from how she sinks her body into your lap, trying to grind on you, without making it obvious. And maybe it wouldn't be if her breath wasn't so uneven, peaking around her small moans that she couldn't stop from escaping. She lets out a louder moan in response and leans back into your chest. It's clear what she wants, but she's too cute to pass up on. "Sorry sweetheart, you're gonna have to use your words." She whines loudly in protest and hides her red face in your neck, too embarrassed to say anything, only getting out her moan and pants and bucking into your hand.

Gets overstimulated easily

Loves having when you play with her tits. Massage them, kiss them, pinch her nipples, and suck on them

She's cummed just from having them sucked on while riding your thigh

Finds it embarrassing to finish and it takes a lot of energy from her

So it's even more overwhelming

Loves holding your hand while she finishes

She can't cum unless she feels safe

So hold her, pet her hair, whisper to her that's she's the most beautiful creature to ever exist, that you love with your whole soul, that you're going to make her your wife one day, how happy seeing her makes you

Her favourite dirty talk is the kind that if you just read it with no context, it could sound like wedding vows

Once you read her a love poem while fingering her in your lap and now she can't hear the poet's name without being mortified,, and a little excited

Her favourite place is in your or hers teapot. That way she knows no one can see you two

Imagine her surprise when you recreated her office in it. And several streets from Liyue outside,,,

She feels so dirty for imagining getting fucked somewhere like her work place or public, but she likes it so much

The first time you had sex outside in the teapot, she learned she was so sensitive even the wind's gentlest blow on her bare skin made her hot

She tastes very close to water, maybe with a bit of a herbal taste since she eats and drinks very healthy

She needs post sex cuddles more than she needs air. She needs a lot of emotional support during and after, so she knows you still like her after and are staying with her

"You work so hard Ganyu, I think you need at least one more. Just to be sure we got all the stress out of you." The half adeptus has her legs over your shoulder, the waves of her last orgasm still rippling through her body, making her head go back and her hips buck into nothing while her back tenses and all of her shakes. You place a hand her outer hip, gently patting her up and down until she can answer. You hum and watch her writhe.

She may be the divine being, knowing the Archon and adepti of Liyue for centuries and being raised them, but with the sight of her, you know you're the one truly blessed. To have Ganyu in your arms, to love and be her lover, there is not a mortal or immortal luckier than you. With her, you would stand in front of not only the adepti, or all of the Liyue, but all of Teyvat and its' archons and beyond. Even among Celestia, there is none more blessed than you, you're sure of it.

Your lovely girlfriend whines and squirms still. Maybe it was a little mean to make her finish four times. Or maybe what made it mean was that you planned to go for five tonight without telling her your goal. "You ready to go again pretty girl?" She whines loudly, either in protest or agreement. You softly giggle, "what does that mean?". She looks away from you, grabbing a pillow and putting it over her face. Then she starts to hump the air, wanting you to take care of her again. You were sure from the cry she let out when you began licking her heat again that making her cum five times was the meanest thing. Only maybe your cute little workaholic needed someone to be mean to her to get her to relax.

#ganyu x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #ganyu x reader smut #genshin imagines #genshin smut #ganyu imagine

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p0ssywhippedcream · 1 year

Note

omg that apollo smut was just amazing!. could you do something angsty w him like he's gonna break up bc he fell for someone else (and obviously as a demigod you know that he's not sticking around forever) feel like crying omg

baby omg that's so fucking sad why would you do this to me

"We have to talk." He's trying to be nice. He wants you to sit down and he wants to warm you some tea before he tells you.

You don't sit down, despite his obvious gestures to the sofa. In fact, you don't even let him in the door. You stand there with it open, arms crossed on your chest with an unreadable expression.

"No, we don't." Okay, well now you're being difficult. He wants to let you down easy and you're being so stubborn.

"Yes, Y/n, we do." He hasn't called you Y/n in two years. It's sweet girl, baby doll, my love, sunshine.

"I know." For a second he thinks you're agreeing, that you do have to talk until he sees the barely contained rage in your eyes. You know. You know where he's been.

He doesn't know what to say so he just stands there. His hands that are so used to wiping your tears twitch when one falls. He doesn't love you anymore but he's not a monster.

"Are you okay?" There's so much he's trying to ask. Will you be okay? How do you feel? How long have you known, the entire time? Do you hate him?

You nudge your apartment door with your foot and he looks inside. The sunflowers he'd given you are waving at him from the trash can.

You sighed and stepped outside. It wasn't a very bright day, the sun was hidden behind clouds that drizzled lazily. He didn't realize he was standing in soft rain until you joined him.

You took his hands, curled his fingers into his palms and held them as fists. "I know I'm not permanent, Apollo. Everything goes someday. You deserve happiness for the time you can have it. My comfort currently is that this lover isn't permanent either."

You were talking to him like he was human. A mortal to live and to die. Somebody to pass through life for 80 years at most and somebody expected to run out of time. His face must've given away his confusion, his eyebrows are arched, eyes wide and his mouth open.

"I will get over you," You continued, "I will find another person to love and we will love for a long time. I will be happy. But I can't have summer picnics anymore. I can't wake up early with a cup of earl gray in my hands and sit on my porch. I can't stand on the beach, watching you descend in the sky without remembering this. So much of the world is filled with you. And I hope someday when I watch you light it up with my lover's hand in mine, I won't ache to forget you."

You dropped his hands, yours came up to grab his face like you were going to kiss him. He wouldn't be averse to it, he closed his eyes and accepted your attention. Your forehead pressed against his and you just stood there, holding him and breathing.

You didn't kiss him. Your hands fell away and you walked back inside. The door closed behind you. You didn't even spare one last glance at him. He stood there on your porch. The light rain turned to weeping, the clouds full and betrayed. The wept all over him as he watched your door, waiting for a sign to leave.

He didn't love you anymore, he reminded himself. He stepped back and walked away from your home. As he stepped on the pebbles of your drive way, he looked back towards your home. He saw through your windows, you perched on your counter, nursing a cup of hot chocolate. He'd only ever known you to drink tea.

As he watched you swing your legs and kiss your mug, it hit him. You loved him like a man. He was human with you, no matter his occupation and shows of power, he was only the man you loved. You loved him humanly and you let him go the same way.

Apollo wouldn't be your greatest love, you were bound to draw in more people with your kind soul and gentle hands. But you were his, the only love that saw beyond his immortal curse.

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http-tokki · 7 months

Text

am i nice to you?

~ bakugou katsuki x fem!reader ~ tags/cw: aged up bakugou, angst, drunk reader, unrequited love, established friendships, ~ wc: 1k ~ And I sit on the curb 'cause it's the prettiest night, With no one else in sight - Drunk Walk Home : Mitski ~ "Why doesn't he like me?" "Cause he's an idiot."

Part one is here x

Bakugou finds you sitting on the curb in the middle of the night while coming home from the gym. He hadn't known it was you when he stopped; he just stopped because what kind of person is he if he drove past a woman sitting in the gutter? But as he shouts at you from within his car, he realises who you are.

"Why didn't you call me?" he pulls up the park break. "I gave you my number for this exact reason!"

"Bakugou?" your voice is hoarse.

"Yes, we’ve done this bit before now why are you outside!?"

Katsuki throws open his door but reaches back into the car and retrieves a jacket. He doesn't check for traffic as he steps into the street, gait purposeful in order to reach you before you're swept into the night. You sniff again, using your hand to wipe at the tears that have frozen to your skin and by the time you look up again, he is standing above you with a jacket held out.

"Why are you in the street?" his tone gruff.

"Because the stars are out and i wanted to go star gazing." You lie.

And he stares at you, right brow raising in question. You stare back, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you fight a frown. He notices your dress, pretty and black but way too short to be worn in the dead of winter, and then your tiny handbag and high heels that had been kicked off.

"Are you-"

You burst into tears, unable to hold them back and cry into your hands.

Katsuki winces, unable to deal with emotion, but for you, he'll try. Crouching down to your level, he wraps his jacket around your shoulders and sits beside you on the dirty curb. He doesn't know how to do this and has never needed to comfort someone before, but you desperately need someone, so he sits there while you cry. He lets you lean your head on his chest and cry until you're wheezing.

"Okay, you need to stop." Katsuki frowns, pushing at your shoulders. "you're going to hyperventilate."

You don't stop.

Falling back into the grass, you cry into the night sky. Blubbered words are shouted into the sky, heartbroken sobs echoing through the desolate street as you empty your soul to the universe and classmate sitting beside you.

"Why doesn't he like me?" you ask quietly, hurt in every word.

"Cause he's an idiot," Bakugou replies, knowing you hadn't asked him the question, but he has the answer.

"You don't even know who I'm talking about." your retort is slurred.

"I know it's the guy you wore this all for." he lightly kicks your bare foot. "He's stupid."

This is his attempt at comfort.

"He is stupid", you agree, tone lifting slightly. "but he's so nice to me." you sigh, hands clutching the dress at your chest.

"You're crying in the street; how nice can he actually be?" Bakugou frowns, bending forward to pick up your shoes and bag from the gutter. "Come on, I'll drive you home."

You shake your head and sniff. "I don't want to go."

Katsuki knows you're drunk, knows you're probably gonna hurl anytime soon, but he needs to get you out of the cold before your fingers and toes freeze off. He turns to you, bag and shoes in one hand and reaches for your shoulder.

"Come on, let's go." he encourages you to sit, hand slipping between your shoulder and the grass below, but you don't move.

"Can you just sit with me?" Katsuki has never heard anyone sound so small, so torn apart. "Please, 'Suki."

Bakugou pauses at the nickname.

"You're going to get frostbite." He mutters, dropping your belongings in favour of tugging his jumper up and over his head to drape over you as you lay on the earth.

You look at him, a frown etched into your pretty face and tears welling in your red eyes. His heart breaks at how pathetically gorgeous you look. How, even after sobbing your eyes out, you can still manage to hold him in the palm of your hand and bend him to your every whim.

"Five minutes" is the answer to your plea, and he lies beside you.

Shoulder to shoulder, you rest on the road verge and stare into space. Katsuki can hear your sniffles from beside him and feel your body move with each shaking breath. He doesn't know what else to do, how else to comfort you in a platonic way, how else to make everything go away, so he does what he thinks he should do.

Slipping an arm under your shoulders, he hauls you into his embrace, and when no protest comes from you, he guides your body to lay against his. He lays your head against his chest, your arms following his instructions to wrap around his chest and legs tangling with his; you feel warm. Warmer than you've felt in a while. Bakugou's hands glide up to the base of your neck, sliding into your hair and anchoring in the roots.

You lift your head to face him and find him looking down at you. The hand not in your hair skims over your jaw, cupping your face with a gentleness you never knew possible. You had never been held like this, with such tenderness and reverence as if you were something out of this world.

A shaky sigh leaves you.

"Am I nice to you?" Katsuki asks softly.

You nod.

Katsuki ghosts his thumb over your cheek, swiping up the remnants of the tears that escaped your diligent wiping. You stare up at him, galaxies swirling within your glassy eyes, and it takes everything in him not to lean in and kiss you. His muscles tighten at the impulse, soul pushing him forward to make contact, to seal the fate of your friendship into something more with a simple peck, but he can't. He can't make that move after you have poured your heart out to him. It wouldn't be fair. So, he pulls back from you. Breaking contact and sitting up to collect your things.

"Five minutes is up", he murmurs, returning to collect you. "Let's go"

He watches your face fall, hope fading from your eyes as you sit up.

God, he was an idiot.

a/n: the way i relate to this song is unreal. I remember sitting on the side of the road once throwing up and crying my eyes up all because a guy I liked didn't like me back but I didn't have bakugou come and get me, I had to pick myself up and walk to the train station alone lmao

#💐http tokki #it’s 12am pls be nice I’m tired and need to upload this #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katuski #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki x you #katsuki x reader #bnha fanfic #katsuki fluff #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugou x you #bakugou angst #one shot

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lyramundana · 9 months

Note

Hey, Mate. How are u? I've just seen your yandere Chan and changbin headcanons and I really like it! Can you please do a yandere skz reaction where their crush likes someone else?

Have a beautiful day! 💛

Thank you, mi amor!💖

YANDERE! STRAY KIDS REACTION: THEIR DARLING LIKES SOMEONE ELSE

CHRISTOPHER BANG

Oh well, we start hard already

We've already established previously that, out of the group, he's the most likely to turn yandere in real life. The divine @whatudowhennooneseesyou explained it in her blog before, and if she says it it must be be true, so

forgetting my short fangirl moment there . He got close to his Darling by showing her only his good sides and presenting himself like a friendly, reliable guy that she could count on for everything. He introduced himself into her life smoothly, carving his place in her routine while discreetly removing the "obstacles" that annoyed him. He won her trust quickly enough by forcing situations where his Darling got to see him as her knight in shining armour and felt compelled to rely on him, slowly but surely growing more dependant of him.

If there's a virtue Christopher has in quantity, it's patience. He's ready to wait as long as needed until he gets what he wants, and he's also the type to plan things in advance. So yeah, he's a fucking challenge to get away from.

He though he was doing great, that things were progressing like he planned, so imagine his utter shock when he learns his Darling has a crush on somebody else. She makes the mistake to tell him herself, asking for advice from a "good friend".

Once he gets over the initial loss of words, he's pissed. Very pissed. He's so fucking mad that, in the moment, he accidentally lets his nice guy act drop and loses control of his emotions in front of her. He starts an argument about it, claiming that person is not good enough and they're only going to hurt her, even if he barely knows them. Because who else could be worthy of Darling but himself? This mishap scares her and she ends up arguing back, running away from him in the end. He chastises himself for losing his cool like that later, furious that he ruined all of hard work into shaping a perfect image of him in her eyes. He can't stand the though of losing her, so he recomposes himself and already makes a plan to fix things.

First he gets in touch with her to apologize and make up for his behaviour. He's not sorry for the way he reacted, but he knows it scared her off and he knows that could prompt her to create distance, which he can't allow. Once again, he plays his charming and loving role to convince her, blaiming it on the stress of work and his desire to protect her, since most men are just pigs that would break her beautiful heart only he can do that. When she gets her to believe him, he grabs her hands in his and smiles, promising he'll help her the best way he can.

As soon as he's done recovering her trust, he's investigating that worthless piece of trash that has apparently stolen her affection. He has his contacts, so it doesn't take too long to get what he wants. He memorizes every single detail that he deems useful, just like he did with Darling, but this time is with entirely different purposes.

He's the type of "keep his enemies closer", so he'll befriend that person first and gain their trust, luring them into a false sense of security that it's more like a spider web, trapping them to be devoured without resistance. He gets that person to share secrets with him, things they regret, and Chris promises he won't ever tell a soul.

Some promises are meant to be broken.

He'll hold what he knows over their head to threaten them into staying away, or he'll straight up twist their words so his Darling can misinterpret them and feel betrayed/heartbroken. Obviously, he doesn't waste time into playing his role of brilliant hero and becomes her shoulder to cry on. This kind of validation is like oxygen for him, he can't get enough.

If the person proves to be persistant, he'll take more drastic measures and get rid of them permanently from Darling's life.

"It's okay, doll. It's not your fault. How could you've known they were so terrible? I never fully trusted them, but you seemed so happy and convinced. This is why you should listen to me. I only want the best for you.

LEE KNOW

We've also discussed him a bit in previous posts, but we'll profundize more here.

He's a passive yandere. The type to observe and "care" for his Darling from afar, unnoticed. Never intervening directly unless he absolutely has to. He'll be infatuated for years before gathering the courage to talk to you. But once he finally does, he'll win over his Darling quickly because he just seems to be so sync with her.

Truth is that, during all the time he's spent pining for her from the shadows, he has recopiled every bit of information about her he could get his hands on. Stalking, hacking, stealing personal belongings to treat as "treasures", you know it. While he didn't feel capable of havin a face to face interaction with her, he found comfort in observing her on her daily tasks. He knows her favourite food, color, animal, names of her friends and relatives, the perfume she uses, the places she frecuents and her special events.

His aproach would be slow at first, probably reaching out to her through social media (he has follows her in all of them and has a hacked all her accounts at some point) to chat about common interests, and after he feels they're both on friendly enough terms, he'll arrange a meeting in real life in one of her favourite places.

And because he's so in touch with everything that happens with her, he finds out about her crush before she even tells him. He goes through various phases, like sadness, heartbreak, rage. He just can't fit his head around such concept. Hasn't he proven himself enough to her? He has gone such lenghts to protect her, to get to know her, shaping himself to become the man of her dreams. Did he fail somewhere? What else he should do?

Then it dawns to him. It's not fault. Of course he followed all steps, did everything perfectly. By all accounts, his Darling should've fallen for him already. But maybe he chose the wrong aproach.

Maybe he needs to be more clear about his intentions.

He doesn't have Chris' discretion or long-game. He doesn't want to sit around and wait, he's done that enough for years.

He can't fake friendliness even if he tries, so his solution is kidnapping the person and threaten them to stay away from his Darling's life. If that doesn't work, he'll simply keep them hidden until their existence begins to be forgotten. He could also use them as a boxing bag to let out his frustations, who knows.

@whatsk-poppinhomies has the perfect description of yandere Minho, as I mentioned in another post. Go check it out!

SEO CHANGBIN

He's the egocentric type, to that makes him dangerous and scary but also predictable.

He lives off the praise and admiration from others. He's constantly showing off, fishing out all kind of validation to feed his ego. He also takes great care of his appareance and everything involved in the way he presents himself to the people.

Imagine the stereotypical jock of american movies that's popular and always being the centre of attention. That's him. He needs to feel eyes on him and be admired or else he'll get slightly insecure.

He'll try to catch his Darling's attention by doing exactly what he does to the rest: Showing off. He'll spoil the shit out her and do anything in his power to prove that he's the ideal partner. That no one is gonna treat her better than he does.

He'll become his Darling's slave, her biggest simp. He'll run up to her if he sees her in the same place as him and trail behind her back like an eager puppy, ready to bend himself backwards for her wishes.

Darling might feel overwhelmed by the constant attention and expensive gestures, but he has no plans on stopping, even if she asks him. Then he'll try to tune it down for her sake, but he's uncapable of stopping. He feels the urge to worship the ground she walks on.

He invades every space of her life with his boaming presence and craves himself into her routine, making sure he's the first and last face she sees everyday. If someone seems to "steal" the time that's rigthfully his, he'll drop that bubbly attitude quickly and become very intimidating. He's short but those muscles don't lie and he knows how to use them.

He has a high self-steem, so he's not jealous per se. However, he enjoys marking what's his and let other people know. He's prideful and has a similar disposition to Chris, in terms that they act more like dogs by how much they remind their partners and everyone else who they belong to.

He'll very, very angry if he finds out his Darling has a crush on someone that's not him. He feels his efforts weren't enough. He feels his ego is being questioned.

Unlike the previous two, he lacks self-control over emotions and he's rather impulsive, so he'll probably get into a fight with his rival or/and his Darling too.

He's a lot more direct about this matter. He'll use his position to berate Darling's crush until their reputation shatters or they decide to run away from the harassment. Changbin would be merciless.

Humiliations, fake rumours, pranks that leave injuries too serious to be just that. He'll be a manual bully, and a terrible one because no one dares to fight back. He's stronger than most, intimidating when he wants to, and has no problem sending someone to an hospital if they piss him off enough.

Eventually he'll drive his rival far from his Darling so he doesn't return, but if that doesn't work, well...he's ready to take permanent measures.

HWANG HYUNJIN

oh fuck here we go

Another dangerous one if he falls to the yandere side. He's as bad as Christopher, the kind of yandere that you can't escape alone and most likely you never will.

He's highly narcissistic and self-centered, but unlike Changbin, you won't ever see him coming. And while Chris' red flags can be more noticeable, Hyunjin's are invisible until it's too late.

He's a great actor, a manual manipulator and the perfect wattpad boyfriend. And by this I mean that every breath he takes is pure 🚩🚩🚩.

Seriously, if I had to pick, I'll run to Christopher Bang with no second though, because he's at least somewhat nice and truly feels like he cares.

Hyunjin doesn't. He believes he does, but that's not it.

He doesn't necessarily want to have a fairytale romance with his Darling. He simply wants to own her. Be the centre of her life and have her at his beck and call. Like I said, narcissistic.

He'll be drawn to someone that doesn't pay attention to him at first. He's used to have people worshipping the ground he walks on and surrounded by admirers, so seeing someone that treats him differently inmediatly picks his interest. And so he goes after her doing everything in his power to impress her and get her to look at him the same way most people do. He can't stand not having everyone infatuated by him.

He'll be the classic love interest that never takes no for an answer, ignores boundaries and takes the protagonist for granted. He thinks being allowed to be with him is an honor. He doesn't really care if the girl is comfortable with the situation, he's set on "fixing the anomaly".

As he begins to develop feelings for his Darling that go beyond winning this game of "hard to get", he starts to idealize her to unsane levels and even gives her traits that she doesn't actually have, just to fit his perfect narrative. If she doesn't have them, then he'll just have to make her, right?

He's charming and has a way with words, but his ego might cost him vision. He uses his image of "dream prince" to his advantage and plays the role for his Darling. He intends to turn her into his muse, a doll crafted by and for himself. He'll smoothly move her to change some aspects of herself to his preference.

His ego, eventually, confirms to be a burden. He's confident on his own perfection and he sees himself as the best option out of everyone and everything, so discovering his Darling apparently has a crush on someone is a mindfuck for him.

But he recovers quickly. As soon as the shock is over, it gets replaced with rage. For the first time in his life, he feels surpassed by someone. And he hates losing.

He'll sabotage every possible relationship Darling could have with anyone. If he can't have her, no one will. Simple. Until she realizes her only viable option is to be with him.

He's the type to ruin his Darling's life too and break her, so he can pick up the pieces and put them back how he wishes. Make her undesirable for other people so she thinks he's the only one that would ever love her.

HAN JISUNG

A nightmare for your emotional health. Dating him on a regular setting would be already a roller coaster, but as a yandere? You'll need fucking therapy and lots of patience, if you ever get out of it of course.

He relies heavily on emotional reactions and playing the victim card. He might actually believe he's a victim. He's impulsive too, but not like Changbin. He's another subtle manipulator, but unlike Hyunjin and Chris who use mental games, he hits you where it hurts.

He's prone to breakdowns and his mental health isn't the most stable at times, so he'll probably fall for his Darling when she helped him through one of his episodes and comforted them. As soon as he felt her warm hands and kind smile, boom. The path to obsession began.

He can be very insecure and distrusting, so he'll get jealous even when they're not even together yet. He thinks everyone that gets close to her has romantic interests and fears they'll take her away. He reflects his own feelings and thoughts unto other people.

Due to his insecurities, he believes everyone is better than him and so, if he lets Darling see other people than him, she'll surely reject him.

He's moody, so he'll go through periods where he's extremely clingy and others where he isolates himself. In both cases, however, he needs to know she's near or else he'll fall in a pit of panic. It reassures him.

He's very attached to his Darling, probably the most out of all. His dependency is completely toxic and it moves him to push people of her life so he can have her entirely for himself. He hates having to share her time and attention, so what's the solution?

Make sure he's the only person she has to talk to.

I think it's important to note that Jisung, while being emotional, is far from stupid. He's in fact one of the smartest in the group, so don't let the shy, soft persona fool you.

He's quick to pick on details, and that includes weaknesses. If he realizes his Darling can't stand seeing him sad or angry, you bet he'll use to his full benefit. He'll throw tantrums and randomly stop talking to her so she has to go after him to know what's wrong and "fix it". Seeing her give him so much attention comforts him.

If he catches on the fact that Darling has feelings for someone else, boy he'll go insane. You think his moodiness and bipolarity were bad before? Be prepared to see it ten times worse.

He wont' stand it, and he'll make that very clear. Another one that'll sabotage any type of relationships she has, but unlike Hyunjin, he'll never go as far as to hurt her or ruin her, because he adores her too much. No, all the damage is directed against those who try to steal her from him.

He'll play the victim card and pretend they were the ones who started the conflict, lying that they made fun of him or they're all speaking ill of her behind her back. He'll paint them as villains and his tears would do the rest.

If that doesn't work, he has no problem locking her up in his house. After all, this would allow him to have her everyday by his side like he wants.

He's highly dependant, very clingy and very sneaky. He's emotionally unstable, so she might see the danger before entering a relationship with him.

LEE FELIX

I really can't see this heaven-sent human as a yandere, but I'll try

He's very similar to Jisung, so it's easy to assume they'll follow similar aproaches. Not for nothing they're called Sunshine twins.

He's also very driven by emotions but he's less impulsive than Han. He prefers to think a bit more before acting, since he wants to look the best at all times for his Darling. That means keeping up appareances with other people too, even if he doesn't like them or can't stand their closeness to her. He wants to earn her through her friends first.

He basically charms everyone around him with his sunshine persona, offering home-made brownies and overall being a cute perfect boy. No one dislikes him and she has only heard great things about him, so she's at ease with him.

She doesn't that he eliminates anyone that suspects his dark side or speaks badly about him. That's why he's seemingly flawless in her eyes.

Because there's literally no one that talks bad about him.

He falls for his Darling due to the simplest things. Maybe a casual warm smile she directed at him once or her complimenting his baker skills. Simple gestures that are plain friendliness and politeness but his deranged mind interprets them in another sense.

He's delusional. A lot, really. If all his interactions with his Darling feel positive and she doesn't reject his advances, that's enough to make him believe his feelings are returned and she feels exactly the same for him.

He'll get close to her by befriending her first, obviously. He wants to take it slow, go step by step in fear he ruins it. He earns her trust and enphasizes his good traits for her. Of course, he uses his deep voice too (because he knows that's one of his best assets)

He's so gentle and kind and understanding, such a good listener. He provides for her and spoils her to the brim. It's only natural she trusts him with her secrets and confides in him.

Including to ask advice regarding her new crush...that's not him.

He doesn't let his inner turmoil be shown. He smiles softly and plays the sweetheart act until she leaves. Once she's out of sight, he finally loses the composure and unleashes the dark emotions he's been hiding for so long.

He doesn't understand. He has done everything perfectly. He's been nothing but charming to her, nothing but a good boy and flawless. He has made her laugh like nobody else, cared for her like a dutiful boyfriend. He's been basically a dream guy. Where did it go wrong?

But he refuses to lose like this. She's only confused, that's it. He shouldn't been so tolerant of the people she hang out with, should've watched better her surroundings. If he does it right, he'll open her eyes and move her back to the right path.

He knows there's no one better than him for his Darling. No one but him deserves her. No one can love her like he does, take care of her like he does.

So he does the only reasonable thing, the same he's done previously with other pests: Remove the obstacle permanently from his life.

KIM SEUNGMIN

Another master manipulator here.

No but for real, he's also relies on his intelligence, and these are the most dangerous and hard to escape out of all.

He plans every move he makes beforehands. He knows what he's doing at all times and, if not, he always has a plan B. He hates the idea of failing.

He's too cool to admit his feelings, so he tries his best to ignore/supress them. Last thing he wants is appear weak and/or vulnerable.

Obviously, he eventually embraces his obsession love and starts to formule a plan. He's another one that's more than willing to play the long game. .

He's only the right amount of polite when he's with his Darling and never more. He purposedly plays hard to get so she'll become interested in him and aproaches him first.

He'll be kind and friendly one day, and the other behave coldly and indifferent. He confuses her constantly in hopes she's drawn to his mysterious side and pays more attention to him.

They won't become friends per se, and he'll become more like a passive yandere like Minho. Watching her from afar and controlling what happens in her life without her knowledge. He'll collect her belongings too, although he won't make a fucking shrine like Minho would. He sees them as trinklets, memories from her. And also as material to learn more about her.

He's highly observant and discreet. Chances of him getting caught are very slim, and there's no way anyone could suspect of his tendencies. He's specially careful around his Darling, so unless her friends have all keen eyes, he could spend an entire life doing this.

He has her entire profile and routines memorized. Her adress, her relatives and friends, the teachers she's had and the places she likes to go. He uses all that information to create interactions where they're "casually" on the same place at the same time or he "accidentally" meets with some of the people she knows who in return talk to her about him.

Step by step, he makes his way through his Darling's life, with zero suspicions.

Unlike Minho, he'll actually aproach her when he follows her somewhere. He doesn't remain hidden, since he wants her to think they both frecuent the same places to see how much in common they have.

He figures out her crush before she has the time to say it. Since they're not close yet (much to his suffering), he finds out from other sources.

He's calm about the whole deal. Well, he still gets angry and has murderous thoughts, but he's an strategist. He has an entire journal with everything there is to know about her. He's good at gathering info.

So he does the same with his rival...but with entirely different purposes.

However, he doesn't simply expose his darkest secrets and removes him from his Darling's path quickly. Oh no. He has a sadist vein. He manipulates everything from the sidelines so his Darling ends up rejecting this person by herself, twisting their image in her eyes so she grows disgusted or uncomfortable with them.

And absolutely no one suspects him.

Once that pest is out of the way after a delicious and humiliating rejection, he moves back to his routine. This event may push him to accelerate the plan and strenghten his bond with Darling.

YANG JEONGIN

Another emotionally unstable one. Lord have mercy.

He's actually more mature that people give him credit for, but he has a certain brattiness, product of usually getting what he wants.

He's impulsive and prideful. The type to resort to the silent treatment if gets angry at someone. He refuses to give in first.

People often see just his cute, maknae persona and get fooled by how coddled he is, but everyone has dark sides, and his particularly can be very intimidating.

Have you seen his angry face? Yeah, I'll burst out crying if someone looked at me like that.

Moving on

He struggles to express his feelings openly, but he also expects his Darling to simply guess them and gets offended if she doesn't act accordingly. He expects her to read his mind.

His Darling would be either an old friend or a co-worker. He likes to remain in his circle, so he feels a bit more in control.

He'll admire her from afar and then aproach her by using his soft, cute maknae act to get attention and care, like he wants. He's used to be the centre of attention because of his cuteness, and let's be honest, she wouldn't resist it either.

He'll make sure her eyes are always fully on him, at all times. If she's paying attention to someone else, he's quick to snatch her with excuses like "i need help with this" "i don't know how to do this" "i'm nervous, can you be with me'" etc.

Another manipulator too. Of course, he learns from the bests of the category.

Meaning he knows how to pretend and act to get his way. He's not as innocent as he lets on.

He gets jealous and he doesn't hide it. He has two moods: He throws a tantrum and pouts (in front of his Darling), and he glares and mocks at the other person (when Darling is away).

Speaking of this, he'll bully anyone that shows interest in her. Like, literally bullying.

I mean intimidation, harassment, bad pranks. All behind her back, of course. He'll eventually convince people to not get close to her, and he'll be fucking happy about it.

Now there's no way she cannot notice him.

At least that's what he thinks, until he hears that his Darling has set her eyes on someone. And it's not him.

Out of all of them, he's the most likely to be caught by her, since he has a hard time hiding his anger.

He'll be resolved to kick that person out of Darling's life one way or another. Oh, and he'll also refuse to speak to her altogether, feeling "betrayed". Again, emotionally unstable and bratty.

Seriously, that person would go through hell. It'll be a mix of Changbin and Jisung. He'll try to play the victim and paint the other as the abuser.

However, he's so deep in with his rage that he gets sloppy. His Darling might caught wind of his harassment to others. She'll probably catch him mid-fight or provoking someone, making fun of them.

When she asks and tries to intervene, he doesn't answer. He doesn't want ignore her forever, but she hurt his pride by liking some other asshole, so he remains in the silent treatment.

He wants her to feel guilty, that it's her fault somehow. Emotional manipulation it's his weapon.

If he plays his cards right, he might get inside her mind and do what he wants with her. If not, she'll believe what she sees and cross him as a bully, avoiding him for good.

Regardless, his rival would be gone. That he'll make sure o

#FINALLY #you guys don't know how much i struggled with this damned request #i have no excuse besides i'm a lazy bitch unable to focus on one thing #i like this trope so i don't know what the fuck happened #anyway here you #most of these probably aren't even accurate but I tried my best #yandere skz #yandere bang chan #yandere lee know #yandere changbin #yandere hyunjin #yandere han jisung #yandere lee felix #yandere kim seungmin #yandere yang jeongin

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