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little-miss-dilf-lover · 1 day

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“MEN”.

tangerine x reader — angst? with comfort

summary. you go out for girls’ night. the evening gets cut short when you bump into some guys. you no longer feel safe, so you make a call to your boyfriend

had this idea in the shower, no further questions

word count. 1139

warnings. the guys say derogatory things about reader but no description is given

Tonight was girls' night, a simple date between you and your friends designed to catch up. You had been looking forward to it for weeks, but you never expected it to be such a shitshow.

Every step of the way, things were going wrong: delays getting into the bar, difficulties finding a decent table, the bar running low on drinks - just everything as if it were an indicator to go home.

When Tangerine —your boyfriend— dropped you off, he told you he was only a phone call away - anything you needed, he'd be there. You liked to think you didn't need him to come to your rescue, but as you stood at the bar beside a group of loud, boisterous guys, you remained clutched onto your phone - your thumb almost hovering over your boyfriend's caller ID.

You were fetching your drink while your friends held down the table - covering your chair to stop unwelcomed guests from joining. You peer over to them, meeting their smiles with one of your own - it was like a little confidence push. You drop your phone into your bag as you place your drink order with the bartender.

Out of the corner of your view, you see one of the guys staring - his intense gaze making you uneasy. But you try to brush it off, doing your best to ignore the increase of glances from the men beside you.

You begin to hear talking over the music next to you, the guys' voices muttering amongst each other. You didn't want to listen to what they were saying, but it was almost impossible not to with their rowdy volume.

You uncomfortably squirm as you listen to them, picking up on the demeaning and derogatory things they are saying about you. You always thought you'd be one to stand up to comments like these, but nothing can ever prepare you for what it feels like in the moment. You're almost stuck in fear with no words to help aid you.

You continue to overhear their vile comments, doing everything you can not to let them know how much they're getting to you. You tap your card on the reader to pay for your drink and take the glass from the bartender, making your way back over to your friends.

The moment you sit, they could tell something was wrong - repeatedly questioning the saddened expression on your face. Your eyes unknowingly give it away, your gaze flicking over to the group of guys.

"Do you want to get out of here, babe?" one of them asks, voice gentle.

"Yeah," you reply, your demeanour far less confident than when you left your group.

"Let's go," the other says, her hand reaching for yours - comforting you. "We can get something to eat instead."

"I think I'd prefer pizza anyway," another adds - also trying to comfort you.

You nod and smile softly between your friends. You reach into your bag and pull out your phone to text Tangerine. You send him a quick 'please can you pick us up?' to which he responds almost instantly - telling you he'd be five minutes and for you to wait inside.

Within a few, short minutes, you get a text from your boyfriend, his message letting you know he's outside. You and your friends collect your things and make your way to the exit - not daring to look back at the guys at the bar.

"You okay?" Tangerine asks you, looking at you through the open window of the passenger seat - immediately noticing your visible sadness.

You nod faintly and pull open the door, sitting in the front while your friends get in the back.

But he's not satisfied with your lack of answer, so he looks up at the rearview mirror, talking to your friends in the back seats. "What happened in there?"

"Men," one of them says casually. "They were slimy."

"Slimy?" Tangerine repeats, turning to look at you. "Slimy, how?"

You shake your head, shrugging softly upon his questioning.

"What did they do?" he asks, tone cautious, his brows beginning to furrow. "Did they touch you?"

Your friends go quiet, almost blending in with the background, allowing you and Tan a moment of privacy.

"Just said gross things," you admit, looking down at your hands in your lap.

"What did they say?" he questions, voice worried. He cranes his neck to look at you, trying to get you into talking. "What did they say, love?" he asks again, placing a warm, comforting hand on your knee.

"I don't really want to talk about it," you speak faintly, your gaze focused on your lap.

"What did they look like?" he asks, rubbing over your knee. "Are they still in there?"

"I don't remember," you lie. You knew what Tangerine meant by that question, but you felt so embarrassed by the whole night that all you wanted to do was write it off - forget about it completely. "I didn't get a good look."

His head cocks to the side, a harsh exhale falling passed his lips. "Where were they? Are they at a table, at the bar?" he questions, moving his hand from your leg - reaching for the buckle on his seatbelt. "I can just ask around if you don't want to tell me— what about you lot?" he asks, looking back at your friends once again through the rearview. "What did they look like?"

Your friends pause, not knowing what to do. They didn't want to betray you by answering, but they also didn't want the men to get away scot-free. Luckily, you speak up before they get a chance to.

"Can we just go home?" you ask, turning to look at your lover. "I just want to forget about it."

Usually, Tangerine would press you until he got the outcome he wanted, but the look on your face told him all he needed to know - you didn't need him to fight for you, but instead, you needed him to comfort you. So with a gentle, understanding nod, he plugs his seatbelt back in, pushing off his thoughts of violence.

"Alright," he says, placing his hand back over your knee - reaching for your hand. "I'll drop it."

You turn to smile at him and envelop your hand in his. "Thank you."

He returns your smile with a faint one of his own, silently reassuring you.

And so he pulls away from the kerb, merging onto the road to head back to his house - taking you all there so you can enjoy some delivered pizzas and crappy reality tv to forget about the night. His hand clutched onto yours over the gearstick, holding you close in silence - your friends in the back, chatting amongst themselves.

reader's friends are proper girls girls and I love it

#tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train #tangerine comfort #tangerine angst

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haleswallows · 2 days

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I will not ask where you came from (Deleted Scene)

A deleted scene for "I will not ask where you came from", my fic for Dead on May-n week. Inspired by @roanawayspoons in the HH server, where they linked this and said it's perfect for puppy!Jason.

CW: NSFW, anal sex, fingering, light pet play

Jason is excited to reveal his new helmet. He's spent a lot of time designing it, ready for a refreshing new look. It's just... a coincidence. The dog-like features. Siren lives rent free in his mind, ok? It wasn't on purpose. Jason is not responsible for his subconscious.

Siren raises an eyebrow, bright red lips pressed to disguise their smirk when Jason first shows them. Lounged on his couch, their dressing gown falls open slightly to reveal toned legs. "Oh, puppy," they demure. "You spoil me. You're so pretty with your new helmet." He can't help but preen under their praise. When they command him to his knees, he goes without single hesitation and kneels at their side. The finger under his chin has his eyes fluttering closed, and Jason obligingly tilts his head back.

“Is this way your way of making sure everyone knows?” The finger traces a line along the seam where flesh meets metal, the slightest scratch of a long nail. “You like being my puppy this much?”

Jason knows the rules. He's a good boy. “Yes.” The new voice modulator grinds the word into a rough growl. Siren does smirk then, grazing a finger over the molded fangs.

“This is very nice, perfect for my puppy.” They playfully tap the subtle snout. “Well, come on then, strip. Show me the helmet without all these distractions.”

Siren likes to tease but not be teased. He does make a show of stripping, muscles flexing and stretching. But it always goes quickly. They reel him in by the buckle while he shucks off the vest, then gloves. “Let me help. You have so many layers.”

While his arms are tangled in this shirt, Siren undoes the belt, then button, then zipper. Without pushing the pants down, Siren slides their hand between compression shorts and the outer armored layer.

“No cup? Oh puppy, did you prepare for me?” They press a finger against the rapidly hardening underside of his cock, balls drawing up with his gasp. “Am I going to find another treat?”

Jason struggles to find words. Even after months and months of this game, Siren's rules, Jason's still so responsive, left gasping.

“Puppy?” Siren gently prompts, beginning to withdraw.

It takes a few gulps of air to get there. Jason chokes out “One more surprise.”

His efforts earn a reward. Siren wraps a hand around his dick through the soft fabric. They squeeze slightly on an upstroke, teasing the head. “Good boy. You're so good for me, and just me. Wanna show me?”

The praise makes Jason flush, reddening from chest and up his neck. His face feels warm in the helmet. “Yes,” he repeats.

Sadly it means Siren releases his cock, allowing him to toe out of the steel toed boots, unbuckle hostlers, and shove the pants down. Jason’s embarrassed for a second before the compression shorts join the mess of clothes on the floor. All it takes is a half lidded look from Siren, their eyes hungrily tracing from chest to toe, flicking back up to the helmet.

They swirl a finger lazily. Jason obeys, pausing just a moment when his back is turned. “Oh,” Siren breathes out. “Come here.”

He kneels again. Siren cups the cheek of the helmet in their hand and encourages him to prop his arms onto the couch cushion. Instinctually, Jason leans into it, missing the feel of their palm a little bit.

Siren finally sits up from their relaxed lounge, legs bracketing him. Jason's practically in their lap and fully hard now. Their other hand skates up his arm, drawing patterns into his bicep with a nail. He flexes his arms without thinking, Siren giggling.

“That looks new. Were you excited to buy it? Couldn't wait to show me?” Siren pulls him to sit up straighter, pinches a nipple. With a gasp, Jason arches his back, sits as pretty as he can.

“Yes.” Jason was excited. Is excited, the press of the plug a little bigger than his usual preferred toy. It had taken a little effort to get it in, Jason had nearly come while fingering himself open, thoughts of Siren forefront.

“So cute,” they coo, pressing a kiss to the temple of the helmet. “It matches your helmet. You look so good in red, puppy. Now the question is do you want the toy, or me?”

Jason shorts out for a moment. He trembles as Siren distracts him with wandering hands. As he opens his mouth, Siren pressed a kiss to his neck, scrapes teeth over the skin. Jason gasps, words flying from his head. Groans when Siren bites harder.

“Words, pretty boy.” A grin pressed into his neck, a hand reaching down his back, a barely there brush of a finger at the base of his tailbone.

He pants. Half crazy from the plug and the constant stimulation. Jason needs to be touched. “You.” His voice is strangled.

“Well, get up here. I'm not getting on the floor.”

Jason slowly crawls up, Siren directing him to lean over the armrest. He feels exposed, hemlet pressed into the fabric, arms curled under his chest. It puts him ass up, cock heavy and hanging between his thighs.

“Just look at you. Beautiful.” Siren admires, pressing a kiss to the small of his back. Jason squirms, pleased with himself and relishing the praise. Then nearly jumps out his skin when Siren suddenly grabs his balls.

He can barely concentrate on what Siren says, focused entirely on the hand slowly kneading the sack. “I'm going to fuck you, your hands stay right there. No touching yourself, I want you to come on just my dick, Jason. Do you understand? Will you be good?”

“Yes.” He can be good. He can be so good. Something breaks in his brain a little bit, overwhelmed with the promise of being fucked, the promise of more than teasing touches. “Yes, I understand. Please, I'll be good, I'll be good. Please, Siren.”

Siren drapes over his back. A kiss to the nape of his neck gentle and soothing. “Please, what?” A finger presses on the plug, pushing the flare against the stretched rim. He pants.

“Fuck me, fuck me, please. Siren, I want your cock. Want to come for you, want to be a good boy.” The begging erupts from him, Jason wrapped up in the press of Siren's silken dressing gown all along his back, the way their legs frame his.

“Relax for me,” Siren commands, biting the juncture between neck and shoulder. Jason melts into the sharpness of the feeling, breaking through his general fog of need and arousal.

The plug slides out. For a moment, Jason is stretched too wide, too much. Then suddenly he's empty, bereft, clenching on nothing. “Oh, honey.”

A single finger slips easily in, hole still wet with the smear of lube from fingering himself. Jason's hands twitch. He clenches them, and shoves them under his chin.

A second finger joins the first. Siren hums, slowly scissoring them. They're always so gentle with Jason, so careful as they open him up. “We need a little more lube, sweetheart.”

“Ah,” Jason twitches. It's a few heartbeats before his brain produces a coherent thought. “Pants pocket.”

They laugh. “Of course. My clever puppy, always thinking ahead.” But it means they remove their fingers to lean for the pants, rooting around in the pockets. When Jason shivers at the loss, Siren runs a hand up his flank, presses a thumb to his hole. “Patience. Don't wanna hurt you, baby boy. You're being so good, I'm going to take care of you. You know what you get when you're good?”

Jason nods into the armrest, eyes squeezed shut. Siren removes their hand. They lightly swat his ass. “Words, puppy.”

“I get rewards.” He twists his head, getting Siren into his peripheral. Their smile is sweet, eyes crinkling with it.

The reward is Siren pushing two lube slicked fingers into his ass. Jason groans long and shamelessly. After a few moments, Siren easily adds a third finger.

They mouth lines of kisses across the broad span of his shoulders. Fingers pump slowly in and out of his hole, a maddening pace only barely enough to keep him hard. The pads of Siren's fingers just graze his prostate every few strokes.

Jason is melting. He's burning and panting and fighting every instinct to grip his cock. If he doesn't get more, he's going to scream. Or cry. A chant starts pouring out of him. “Siren, please. I'm ready, I want you, more, please. I… it feels so good, please, please can I…?”

Siren surges forward, pressing their weight all along his back. Their dick slots behind his balls. “Yeah? You want me to fuck you? You asked so nicely, it’d be mean of me to make you wait more.”

They gently remove their fingers. There's the sound of the lube opening again and Jason takes the opportunity to catch his breath. He uncurls his arms, bracing hands on the armrest.

Then groans again at the stretch of Siren's dick pushing into him. It's slow but delicious. in all the right ways. Jason sets his hips against the push, allowing Siren to rest against him. Siren breathes out a long satisfied sigh against the top of his spine when they finally fully seat inside him. A heartbeat of stillness, Siren caresses his sides in an upward sweep. They pause to grope his pecs before slotting their hands together.

“You have no clue how good you feel, puppy.” Siren presses a kiss to the nape of his neck. With a long slow withdrawal, Jason squeezes their hands. He knows what’s next. He’s been a good boy. They pull out until the ridge of their cock head pulls at the rim. The thrust is hard, driving Jason’s breath out.

Siren’s pace is cruel. Each thrust hard, but just shy of fast enough. Jason writhes under it. He hangs his head, lifts it again, clenches his hands and thighs in turn, arching his back. All the while, his cock and balls ache. Jason needs more, certain a single touch would put him over the edge but Siren keeps a hold of his hands. The sound of their fucking is obscene, and if Jason had even an of sanity to spare, he’d be a ashamed of the continual whine and gasps and mewls he’s making.

It’s obvious when Siren starts to get close. They release Jason’s hands to pull his hips closer, encouraging him to sit up. Impossibly it drives their cock deeper. Siren noses against his neck. “Beautiful and you don’t even realize, god you feel so good. You don’t know what you do to me, puppy. It’s like you were made for me. Can you come without me touching you today?” Every word brings heat to Jason’s chest, he shudders.

And they wrap a hand around the base of his neck, the barest hint of pressure against his throat. Jason comes, losing his voice as pleasure rips through him. Siren keeps up the brutal pace, fucking him through his orgasm.

“Good boy. You’re so good for me, you’re perfect. Stay just like that, puppy.” Strong arms keep him upright, the thrust not stuttering. Jason gets lost in it – the haze of endorphins and praise. Beyond all reason, Jason gets hard again. “Look at you. Filthy, you like it that much? Oh puppy, are you going to come again for me? Can you?”

Siren presses him into the couch, bending him forward until the helmet meets cushion. Jason’s hips tilt and then he’s seeing stars with each thrust. He scrabbles against the fabric, trying to gain purchase to push back. “Right there, huh. You’ve been marvelous. I’m so close, puppy.”

They pant against his shoulder. “Come. Come, Jason.” The command is paired with a hand on his cock, stroking in time with the thrusts. “You can do it, puppy. Beautiful boy.”

It isn’t Jason’s first dry orgasm. It definitely won’t be his last. Still it shocks Jason, amazed by the way it rocks through him and makes his toes curl. He clenches and finally Siren’s hips stutter. Warmth of a different sort fills him, and Jason swears his dick twitches as if inspired to try for a third.

Time gets a little fizzy for Jason as he focuses on catching his breath, only gasping once Siren pulls out. Sensation slowly returns to his numb limbs. “Careful, honey bee. There you go,” Siren coos gently, guiding Jason to lay on his side. “There’s a wet spot there. We made a mess, huh. You stay put.”

Vaguely, he hears the padding of feet. He concentrates on wiggling his fingers and then toes. “You want this off? Oh babe, you must be boiling in there.” Jason obligingly rolls his head so Siren can access the release on the back. The rush of cool air is a relief, he barely noticed how warm he was.

Jason hums, cracking an eye open when Siren begins combing fingers through his sweaty hair. “You poor thing, you’re drenched. Wanna get showered?” Absolutely not. The thought of getting up just then is abhorrent, so Jason shakes his head. “No words right now? That’s ok, puppy. Let me get you a little cleaned up and a towel down. Will you have some water for me?”

The washcloth is warm on his skin. When Siren finishes, they press a kiss to his hip bone. He sits up just long enough to drain most of a glass of water. Flopping onto his back, Jason sprawls across the couch.

“Scooch, how am I supposed to cuddle you if there’s no room?” Jason squints at them, but doesn't move. “It's like you think this will stop me.”

They clamber onto him, slotting themselves between his legs to fold arms over his chest. “It's like you think this wasn't my plan,” Jason comments. As Siren settles, he loops his arms around their back.

There's blissful silence for about three seconds. Siren wiggles. “Hey, you ever thought about soaking? Cock warming?”

Jason groans, and not in pleasure. No, he hasn't. But now he is… and, huh. That's new. He considers it, finds he might like that.

“You'd be so cute stuffed with my cock for hours. We could get a mirror for the bedroom, make it so you can see. Your asshole is amazing. You'd be a great cock warmer.”

When Jason doesn't answer, Siren pauses. “We don't have to. You know my rules, no means –.”

“No, I know. I'm not saying no. Just… give me a few days?” Siren smothers a smile.

“Of course. We can make a whole thing of it. Let me spoil you. Buy us dinner, get some sweet treats, something nice for a bath after. Yeah? Sound good?” They beam at him, and Jason is hopeless.

“You've ruined me.” It makes them laugh, bright and happy. “How are you always like this? You have too much energy.”

They hum, kiss his pec. “Can't help it. Hey, you patrolling tonight?”

Maybe if he could feel his legs. “Nah, I'll do gear and weapons maintenance.”

“Good, you deserve the rest. Want me to grab something to eat when I'm done?” They idly trace a scar on his bicep. “I can even get you some of those disgusting chili dogs.”

“Disgusting, they say. As if you didn't text me last week to beg for four of them.”

They flap hands vaguely in his face, shooing away the teasing remark. “Wait! If I do a seance for Nana Franny again, do you think she’ll make me more birria?”

Jason catches their hands, smoothes a thumb over the bare nails. “Nah, she called yesterday. Her oven is acting up. I’ll go fix it and then we’ll be birria rich.” Siren gasps.

“It’s fate! Hey, wanna pick a couple colors for my nails? You have a good eye. Don’t just pick reds though, puppy.” A phone, lodged somewhere in the couch, starts ringing. Siren surges up for a kiss, digging it from between the armrest and cushion at the same time. “And now I have to start getting ready.”

When Jason bench presses by their hips, Siren makes an appreciative ‘ooh’. Mostly Jason does it to avoid their flailing limbs, and inevitable elbow to the solar plexus he always gets when Siren scrambles off his chest.

“You stay put, puppy. Rest. Drink lots of water.” They pat his chest, then trot down the hall. “Wait, have you ever thought about shibari?”

“Stop it!”

#dead on main #dc x dp fic #SO MUCH SMUT #my writing #DNI INRY #DNI minors #please i swear to fuck #not beta read

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anotherdescentintomadness · 11 months

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All the One & Only Movie Posters

WANG YIBO as CHEN SHUO

Three days left to One & Only!

To celebrate, enjoy my collection of the One & Only movie posters and official images I’ve saved over the past year.

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greatstormcat · 8 months

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COD Omegaverse Part 1

Part 2 here

Alpha!Ghost x Omega!Soap x Omega!f!reader

TW: MDNI 18+, dub/con, heat cycle

You left the base pharmacy, pocketing your refilled prescription of suppressants just as Soap walked past. He spotted you and threw his arm over your shoulders, hugging you tightly against his side in a show of protective friendship.

“Getting your migraine pills?” He chuckled with a wink. Soap was one of the few open Omegas on base, despite being more than capable of defending himself, being Ghost’s mate meant that no one would dare step over the line and touch him for fear of being ripped to pieces by either of them.

“Yes, making sure I’ve got enough before we deploy,” you replied, falling into step with him as you both returned to the 141’s barracks. The team knew your true designation as an Omega and had kept your secret safe. You’d earned your place in the team over and over after all, and you were a part of the Pack now which was the almost the ultimate show of acceptance.

“Don’t blame you for takin’ those things but just don’t rely on ‘em forever,” he repeated his usual warning when he saw the pills in your hands. “They’ve killed as many Omegas as they’ve helped protect, understand?” He stopped you and looked you in the eyes, genuine concern and affection clear on his handsome features. You nodded.

“I know,” you reply with a weary sigh. “Not everyone is lucky enough to have an Alpha like Ghost though. I don’t want to end up locked away somewhere, not able to live my life the way I want because my mate says I can’t. I won’t give myself away and I certainly won’t take a mate.”

An odd look passes across his face, a knowing smile for some hidden joke.

“Ah hen, you could easily have an Alpha like him. Ya just need to be open to it,” he chuckled and started you both walking together again.

Several days and many miles later, the snow was thick and heavy, making going difficult as you followed Ghost and Soap towards the safe house, but you still felt sweat sticking everything to your skin. How could you be this hot in a fucking blizzard? It didn’t make sense and only worsened your sour mood caused by the aches and pains of the mission. You’d rolled down a stairwell after the firefight had started, to avoid a grenade blast, and you’d been sore all over ever since.

“Come on,” Ghost snapped, equally as irritable as you. Despite the mission going well, both you and Ghost had been snappy and argumentative with each other. Soap even stepped in to get between you both or risk the mission at one point. Now you were making your way to the safehouse to await exfil.

The safe house turned out to be an abandoned farmhouse at the edge of woodland, the door half buried in snow as you arrived. Ghost managed to force the door open and the three of you entered.

“You two check this floor, I’m going upstairs to radio in.” With that he made his way upstairs, rifle drawn.

You desperately peel open your cold weather gear, and your scent broke free causing you and Soap to freeze, wide eyed. You were in heat. That was why you ached all over, why you were overheated.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck no,” you breathed.

“How is that possible, lass?” the other Omega whispered hoarsely moving closer to you, as though he didn’t believe what he was smelling. “I saw you get the tablets, how is this happening?”

Ghost’s heavy footsteps interrupted you both, the sweet scent of your heat already filling the confined space with no way to hide it. Soap moved to the doorway protectively as Ghost approached, but the Alpha stopped in the doorway before he entered the room, eyes fixed on you intently and you heard him inhale through his mask. He visibly shuddered as he took in the scent of the room and closed his eyes briefly, as if savoring it, before he spoke.

“We’ve got a problem. Price has been trying to reach us. Told me the pharmacy fucked up and you were given the wrong meds, you’ve been off suppressants since the last refill.” He stood stiffly as he spoke, chest moving noticeably with the effort to stay back.

“That’s almost two weeks ago. How long til exfil, Lt?” You asked, panic bubbling inside you, along with your body's reaction to the Alpha standing across the room from you.

“With this weather? A day, maybe two, helo won’t fly in this. We are gonna have to deal with this ourselves, however you feel comfortable with,” he answered firmly. Soap gave a proud little smile at his Alpha’s response, and moved beside you to rub your shoulder, feeling the tightening of your muscles already starting.

“It’s up to you, lass,” he said softly. “Ghost is gonna rut like a madman if he stays too close to ya, but I can keep him busy if you rather do this on yer own. As much as I’d love to offer to stay and look after ya,” he tilted his head at Ghost, “havin’ an Alpha here complicates things. Even Ghost cannae fight his instincts completely in this situation.”

Your eyes shifted between the two of them, their surprising offer clear but your consent key to whatever happens.

“I trust you both with my life already,” you reply, you fiddle with the straps on your vest. The weight already becoming too much against your over sensitive skin. “I don’t want to make things uncomfortable, you’re mates after all.”

“But we’re pack, we look after eachother,” Ghost said firmly, his voice deep and low with the effort to keep himself in the doorway and out of the room. The rumble in his words, their reassurance, teased and coaxed at your Omega instincts to trust and obey the Alpha, coupled with the scent of his arousal invading your nose. You needed to answer them now, before you were incoherent and unable to give a lucid answer.

“If the offer is genuine, then I accept.” You spoke as clearly as you could, despite that fact your heart was pounding in your ears already. Ghost nodded once.

“Right,” Ghost turned to Soap, the scent of both their arousals mixing into the air with your heat now, creating a heady cocktail. “Get her upstairs, there’s a bedroom at the back. I’m gonna make sure everything’s secure.” He glanced at you again. “Make sure she’s comfortable.”

Soap chuckle and nodded, “aye, Lt. Leave her with me,” and he grabbed you by the vest and pulled you towards the stairs, your knees already weakening and brain begin to drift. He ushered you upstairs and found the bedroom, hustling you inside before looking at you with concern. “Ya sure about this, lass? He’s a good Alpha but he’s also big. That knot will take yer breath away,” he said with a wink as he began to undo the straps on your gear with swift, sure fingers. You managed to mumble a reply, but the friction of your clothes and gear was too much of a distraction, you were whimpering as each piece of gear came away, relieving some of the discomfort. Soap led you to the dusty bed once you were down to your underwear, the scent of Ghost bleeding from Soap this close to you from his skin was enough to take the edge of the burning feeling inside. The other Omega quickly removed his own gear, down to his trousers and undershirt, the outline of his erection clear behind the fabric. Once he lay beside you on the questionable bed, you moved in tight against him, pressing your sweat covered face against him and breathing in the scent of his mate and his greedily.

“It’s okay, lass,” he whispered, running his hands along the skin of your back and pulling you close. “Alpha will be here soon and he’ll make you feel better.” He pressed a kiss to your fevered brow, and the first painful wave of need racked your body, causing you to convulse and whine. Soap hushed and soothed you as the pain ran through you, bringing tears to your eyes, and mixed with the unadulterated need between your thighs. Slick soaked into your underwear heightening the scent of the heat, and your body temperature spiked.

With a curse Soap pulled back from you slightly, and slid his hand down your stomach to your crotch, hissing slightly when he felt the heat radiating from your swollen pussy.

“Ah fuck, hen,” he said in sympathy, having known bad heats himself in the past, and began to rub his fingers across the fabric. Your head rolled back at the friction of fabric against skin, neck muscles loosening slightly and a groan rolled out of you. Your hips gyrated against Soap’s hand, his fingers zeroing in on your clit through the wet fabric and working to bring you to orgasm to ease your suffering.

You buried your face into the crook of his neck, licking and nibbling at the skin as he rubbed your clit sending shockwaves of pleasure through you that built and coiled inside you until it snapped and you orgasmed shockingly quickly, but it was not enough.

“Shit… it’s not enough… more,” you whine into Soap’s neck, hips grinding against his hand in desperation as your pussy clenches around emptiness.

“Shhhh, it’s okay,” he cooed, “Alpha will be here soon. He’s gonna take care of ya.”

Both Soap and you were hit with the scent of Ghost’s arousal as he appeared in the doorway, your body trembling to a worrying extent against Soap. Ghost had already removed his vest, jacket and boots as he moved to the edge of the rickety bed.

“Sit rep,” he growled looking down at you, his eyes burning through his mask.

“It’s bad, Si,” Soap explained to his mate. “Those fuckin’ suppressants have done a number on her system and it’s gone haywire now they’ve cleared out.”

You convulsed again on the bed, your eyes pleading as you looked over at Ghost, the Alpha that could make it stop. His scent curled into your brain and drew a whine from your throat, which he reacted to on instinct. Ghost moved forward onto the bed where Soap cradled you, and reached out with a gloved hand.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, Omega,” Ghost said softly, reaching out and putting one huge hand on the side of your neck. His covered thumb gently teased your scent gland, sending a wave of boneless submission through your body. “That’s it, just like that,” he said as he moved closer and gathered you in his arms. You curled in on yourself, pushing your face against him and taking great lungfuls of his scent, letting it work its way into your very veins to ease the burning all over you. “Shit, she’s burning up,” you heard Ghost say over the top of your head to Soap, concern clear in his voice.

“I already got her to cum once, she needs a knot,” Soap replied. Another wave of pain seared through your body and you cried out, clutching onto Ghost’s shirt. You were dimly aware of your body being moved and rearranged by the two men, the last items of clothing being shed from all bodies including your sodden underwear. Ghost even lifted the bottom of his balaclava to expose his mouth and you felt his breath tickle across your gland.

The musty mattress of the bed pressed against your back, which arched as the most painful wave of heat coursed through your sweat covered body. Your thighs clench together tightly as Ghost leant over you, covering your body with his and the contact of his skin against your causing you to whine.

His hand grabbed the side of your neck, thumb pressing into your scent gland in an attempt to relax you but the spasms refused to subside.

Strong hands gripped your legs and pried them apart roughly, the sting of the cold air against your superheated pussy an unwelcome sensation prompting you to struggle against them until a tongue ran over your gland, forcing you to submit.

“Fucking hell,” Ghost hissed as he pushed the head of his cock against your entrance, the heat almost searing his skin. The Alpha panted as your pussy welcomed him inside, slick coating and dribbling around his length as he hilted himself, and your cries of pain shifted into throaty moans of pleasure as your body was filled with what it needed. The stretch of his cock in your pussy satisfying and overwhelming at once.

“That’s a sight,” Soap whispered in awe, slowly palming himself as his mate began to grind into you. Once he began to pull his hips back and snap them against you, setting a steady rhythm, your body relaxed more and your hips rolled in time with his movements.

“There you go, good pup,” Ghost muttered against your ear, his breath huffing against your sensitive skin in time with his thrusts. Small kisses and licks were pressed against your neck and ear as the hulking Alpha moved at a delicious pace in your pussy, sending waves of electricity up your spine.

The sensation coiled in your lower stomach, burning hot with the hormones ravaging your body. He suddenly pulled at you your snarled, pure Omega instinct lighting your brain and sending your lunging at him to bring back what you needed, craved.

Soap grabbed you before Ghost could react pulling you back down, narrowly escaping your snapping teeth, fangs extended.

“Hold her Johnnny!” Ghost barked, the sound enough to make you cower briefly and let Soap and Ghost force you onto your front. “Calm down, pup. You’ll get what you need,” he snarled as he pushed into you again once he was happy with your position. You pushed your hips up and back to meet his thrust which went deeper, sawing his cock back and forth across your most sensitive spot. Soap cradled your head, watching in rapt awe as your eyes rolled back and your tongue lolled from your mouth.

“So fuckin’ gorgeous,” he moaned and kissed you, pushing his tongue into your mouthy sloppily. One of his hands slipped under your hips and rubbed at your swollen clit again, rushing you towards another orgasm, this time on an Alpha’s cock. The coil of pleasure burning inside you quickly snapped and your screamed into Soap’s kiss, pussy clenching tightly onto Ghost.

You whined as Ghost continued to fuck into you through your orgasm, muscles spasming with each thrusts and squeezing his cock tightly to urge him to cum. Acting on instinct he lowered himself over your back, forearm supporting your abdomen to keep you where he wanted you, as his knot began to swell, catching in your entrance and sending shockwaves along your spine. You squirmed in his grip, the alien sensation of the knot causing panic to ripple through you, until Ghost’s mouth covered your scent gland, tongue laving over the delicate skin and robbing you of your will to fight the feeling.

“Stay still… gonna knot you…” he grunted, still thrusting until the knot swelled to lock him in place leaving him only able to make shallow thrusts which ended with a final, almost vicious thrust as he came, his body shaking and breath leaving his chest in a rush.

Ghost held you tightly and rolled to the side, taking you with him, and held you against his chest. Soap lay down with you both, pressing against you to keep you in place on his mate’s knot.

“That better, bonnie?” Soap asked, gently touching your lower stomach where Ghost’s engorged cock made a small mound.

“Yeah, bit better,” you managed to reply, your head still fuzzy but the fire subsided enough to breathe again whilst not letting go of you completely.

“It’ll be back again soon, but we’ll get ya through this,” he murmured, stroking your sweat covered skin.

It was several more hours before the heat broke, during which Ghost and Soap took turns with you, stuffing your aching pussy with cock and cum. When Ghost’s urge to place a mating bite was too much to ignore, Soap would lay across you letting his mate bite him instead.

Eventually it broke, and you were left exhausted and drained, sandwiched between Ghost and Soap. The snow finally stopped and the sound of the help approaching spurred you all into action.

You trembled as you dressed, but the others helped you with longer touches and tenderness that hadn’t been there before.

“What happens now?” You asked Ghost after you boarded the helicopter, your voice hoarse. The Alpha looked at you thoughtfully in the seat beside him.

“We will work it out,” he answered with a nod from Soap opposite him.

Captain Price was waiting on the tarmac when the helo landed, and watched as Soap and Ghost helped you down onto the ground in a weak and dehydrated state. As the three of you neared, his nostrils flared with the mixture of scents, his expression unreadable.

“We’ll get you to medical soon but you three come with me first,” he said in a low voice, devoid of any hint of what he was thinking. You stiffened slightly, doubt and worry gnawing at you.

“Come on,” Ghost said softly, nudging your shoulder gently to get you moving.

The three of you trudged into Price’s office, with Soap keeping close beside you as you wobbled slightly as you walked. Ghost glanced at you from the corner of his eye, from time to time, checking you as well.

As you enter Price's office, a heavy hand gripped your shoulder and steered you towards a chair and pushed you firmly into it, your knees buckling willingly as you sink into it. Ghost huffed in response to your compliance and stood beside you, Soap taking position on the other side.

“I’m glad to see you’re all in one piece,” he said, although it was hard to tell if he was referring to the mission or the heat. “We need to address the issue with the suppressants, obviously this wasn’t your fault but it leaves you in a difficult situation. Anyone with a nose on base can now tell your true designation, plus right now you’re reeking of these two.”

“That’s not a problem, sir,” Ghost volunteered, and Soap nodded his agreement. Price raised an eyebrow at this.

“You’re collecting Omegas now, one not enough for you?” Prince asked the Lieutenant, who shrugged in response, any hint of his feelings hidden by his mask.

“Didn’t mark her, Soap kept gettin’ in the way.”

“What he means is,” Soap jumped in, “we are a pack and we don’t see why the lass shouldn't be afforded all the privileges of that. We’ve helped each other through heats and ruts plenty of times, Captain.”

Price sat quietly and considered this for a moment. “You’ve got a point, son. However,” he said, looking you firmly in the eyes, “you're now officially an unclaimed Omega in a base crammed with Alphas, you know the risks associated with this. Some cannot, or will not, control their instincts as well as they should.”

“I understand sir,” you reply, returning his stare with your back as straight as you can manage. The intense fatigue and aching in your bones stealing your normal confident posture.

“Think carefully, you’re going to medical next and they will want you to go back on the suppressants. It’s your choice if you do or not though, I’ve never forced you before and I won’t now, but you have to accept the consequences. The 141 are your pack but we cannot be with you 24 hours a day.”

Gaz escorted you to medical and stayed with you while you were treated for the effects of your extreme and prolonged heat. You were badly dehydrated and placed on a drip for a few hours which gave you time to talk to Gaz, who was a Beta and Price’s mate.

“Just think, if you decide to be open about your designation you may find yourself getting courted now,” he winked, trying to lighten the mood as you lay on the gurney.

“Great, getting hounded by random Alphas, watching my back in every corridor and darkened room,” you grumbled miserably. You had been recommended to go back on the suppressants by the doctor but not for several weeks until your body had recovered from the sudden absence. That meant another heat was likely to hit in that time.

“You never know, you may be interested in some of them,” he countered, his voice soothing and calm. “You’d be surprised who has been keeping an eye on you all this time.” He smirked knowingly, making you stare at him suddenly.

“You know something,” you accused him and his grin widened, adding to your curiosity. “Tell me.”

“I promised them both I wouldn’t,” he replied.

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en-gelic · 1 month

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attention please! ⭑ 엔하이픈

syn. when they want your attention. gn. , fluff ⋆ wc 1.6k ! warnings. skinship, kisses ₊‧ଳ you give me butterflies, you know? 💭 BOOKSHELF! 𓇼

🗯 taglist : @cholexc @07sleepykatz @seunghancore (ask or comment to be added !) © en-gelic 2024.

Huffing in irritation, Lee Heeseung waved his hand in front of your face in attempt to get your attention. Holding in your smile, you listened as he entered the kitchen, angrily mumbling to himself. He was silent for a while as you held back the urge to break your act and turn to look at what he was doing. After a few more minutes, he appeared with a cocky smile plastered on his face and sitting beside you. You continued scrolling through your phone, brushing away your curiosity even as his hand moved to your leg, his fingers drawing circles on your thigh. You held your breath as he moved your body effortlessly onto his lap. Tugging your phone out of your hands, you felt his hand move to the small of your back, pulling you towards his lips, tempting you to kiss him. Noticing how you weren't going to stop acting, he moved to your neck and left a trail of kisses, stopping abruptly once he realised you were enjoying it. "Why did you stop?" You pouted, forgetting all about your prank. His lips pulled into a grin. "Only good girls get rewards."

"Baby, I'm going out, do you need anything?" Park Jongseong asked as he walked into the bathroom where you were putting on your makeup. You continued humming as you attempted to ignore him. Thinking you didn't hear him he repeated the question. Seeing your lack of response, he chuckled sardonically and sauntered out of the bathroom. The moment he left, you looked behind you, curious to know the reason behind his amusement. You heard his footsteps strolling into the bedroom as he opened your closet. "No, she doesn't need it." He said over the phone as he pulled out your Prada bag. "She's clearing out her closet so she's giving it for free." Your head snapped back as he pulled out another one of your beloved designer items. "When do you want it? We ship anytime." He made small humming sounds in agreement as you rushed out of the bathroom. Pulling the phone out of his hands, you brought it to your ear. "Sorry, we're out of business. We don't sell anymore, bye bye." As you rushed to hang up you noticed that his phone had been on the lockscreen instead of being on a call. Realising his tactic, you sheepishly handed him his phone. "Sorry." You said as he hummed in agreement, "Next time I'll really sell them if you do that again." 💭 more under the cut !

"Look at me." Sim Jaeyun whined as you bit back a grin at his irritation. You rolled over to your side as his arms followed your waist, pulling you back to him. You thought the prank wasn't going to work when he started placing kisses all over your neck and face. Surprisingly, you didn't move even though his ticklish kisses usually make you squirm. You turned to grab your phone as a form of distraction as he sighed again. He sat up as you kept your eyes glued to the phone. Pulling your head to his lap, his hands moved to your scalp, massaging your head. His massage made your fingers halt in satisfaction as you relaxed almost instantly. He continued, moving his fingers down your neck where he heard you complain the most about pain. Your eyes closed as the feeling of sleep washed over you, dozing off before you could stop yourself. When your eyes fluttered open, you saw him grinning down at you, his hands gently patting your hair. "Now do I exist?" He asks, waiting for your reply as you shot up from his lap. He pulled you down again and watched you smile up at him. You took his face in your hands and pulled him to your own, locking his lips with yours the way he continuously urged you to after watching the spiderman movie. Pushing his face back up, you watched him lean back down. Shooting up from his lap, you moved out of his reach and said a quick 'Sorry' before running out of the room; the boy following immediately demanding a longer kiss as an apology.

Silence filled the room as Park Sunghoon eyed you irritably. You had been trying to get his reaction to you ignoring him, but it had only been silence. Hours later, when you had gotten sick of being quiet you glanced at him on phone smiling to himself. "Sunghoon." You called, moving over to him and shaking his arm. "Sunghoon." You repeated waiting for his reaction. He looked up comically, turning his head around. "I wonder who's calling me." He hummed, looking down at his phone again. You called his name repetitively with no avail. Finally realising what he was looking for, you sighed and turned his head towards you. "Baby." You said, watching as he grinned, flashing his perfect teeth at you. "That's what I was looking for." "How could you backfire my prank?" You complained bitterly, letting go of his face and laying down on the couch. "That doesn't sound like a sorry." You sighed and muttered a quick apology, glancing up at him to see his reaction. "Don't I deserve more than that?" He asked again, moving to hover over you. He leaned down, hovering his lips over yours before finally pressing them together. When he pulled back, his lips were shiny with the lip gloss you had on as you held back your laughter. You didn't mention it until he gave a suitable apology to backfiring your prank, which meant his money being spent on half the Chanel store.

Finding you seated in your room you didn't look up when he bustled in, excitedly telling you about his idea for the evening which involved the both of you trying the new products he got. "Are you even listening?" Kim Sunoo asked as he shook his hand in front of your face. Noticing your lack of reaction, he smiled to himself, knowing what you were trying to do but pretending to be ignorant. He shook your shoulders a few more times until he picked you up and led you to the bathroom. You relented motionlessly and allowed him to drag you into the room. He set you up on the counter and got out the products he was mentioning before. Opening 4 packets at once, he prepared to mount them unto your face. You hadn't expected him to actually do it, seeing as he cared more about your face than you cared about your own, until he began pressing them onto your face adding moisturizing cream in between the masks like glue. After he was satisfied with his work, he got out some nail polish you left on the counter before you decided to get a manicure at the nail salon instead. He got the others that were in his reach and pressed the brushes together to create an unpleasant colour. The tip of the brush barely reached your finger before you stopped him. He pulled a fake face of irritation, teasing you. "So now you want to talk?" You beamed at his irritation, pulling him into a kiss he quickly reciprocated, forgetting about his anger. You broke the kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Do you forgive me now?" You ask, lightly tying his hair into two pigtails so he wouldn't notice. "Fine, but only because you asked nicely." You grinned and jumped off the counter, disappearing into the room, cheekily giggling at his hair. He glanced at the mirror and pulled a face, running to follow you asking for another apology.

He had been watching you get ready, asking you questions you had no reply to, thinking you were just being quiet because you were focused. "Are you hungry?" Yang Jungwon asked as he walked behind you, his hand finding the small of your back, rubbing it gently. You fought the urge to pull a face of sadness and tell him it was a prank, but you fixed your emotions as he stood around waiting for your reply. Quietly, he took one of your hairbrushes and began brushing your hair lightly as you watched from the reflection on the mirror. You stopped applying your makeup and smiled, crumbling at his sweetness. He looked up and smiled back at you, his dimples pressing into his cheeks. "What?" He asked, confused as to why you were smiling. You turned to face him, your hands wrapping around his waist. "You're just so sweet." You squished your cheek against his chest as he reciprocated the action, patting your hair. "So are you, my love." He beamed, "What do you want to eat?" He asked, as you smiled again, the prank failing miserably.

"So this is what you're going to do?" Nishimura Riki asks you as you pretend not to see him, focusing on the dishes you were finishing. You hummed to yourself, pressing more soap from the dispenser. You felt the taller boy shift behind you and wrap his arms around your waist. He stood unmovable for a while, no matter how many times you tried to shake him off. His breath was ticking your neck and collarbone as you tried not to giggle at the feeling, cursing yourself for being so ticklish. You focused on washing the utensils instead, not giving in to the boys' teasing antics. Finding that his breathing wasn't working, he resorted to an even quicker method of tickling your stomach which sent your laughter erupting through your lungs immediately. You struggled out his grasp as you regained your composure, wiping the tears off your face. Before you could say anything, he squished your face, leading your lips into a pout. He pressed his lips onto yours making the loud smacking sound you hated the most. You cringed slightly at his grin then turned your face into a fake pout. "How come it didn't work?" You whined as you turned back to the sink. "Don't question my intellect." He joked, moving over to help you finish up.

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dyaz-stories · 6 months

Text

a house, not a home || Cha Hyun-Su x Reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings & tags: canon typical violence, hurt/comfort, hyun-su needs a hug, unresolved tension, mentions of blood

a/n: okay so, for context, this takes place during season 2. reader and hyun-su know each other from high school and reader runs into hyun-su after the events of the first three episodes. reader also doesn't know that he is a monster/neohuman though if people are interested i could definitely write that 👀 I hope you'll like it! Please let me know your thoughts and if you'd like me to write more, and consider reblogging!

next part

The hardest thing to get used to, after what others called the Monsterization Outbreak but you labelled, more simply, the Apocalypse, was the silence. You were the type of person to always have music playing, back when you were a high schooler studying hard to get into your college of choice. Now, music was wasted electricity and, worse, could be a death sentence if anyone — anything — heard it play, or if it dulled your senses and got you killed.

At the beginning, there had been lots of sounds. Screams. Cars colliding. Stores’ alarms, blaring when the looters broke in. Sobs. In your house, for a while, there had been your father, humming quietly as he worked.

Then he’d gotten a nosebleed, left the house, and never returned.

Now it was just you, and you’d learned not to make a sound. So when there’s a knock on your door, it echoes through the rooms and rattles you to your core. For a second, you clench your trusty baseball bat. You took hours and cut your fingers planting nails into it, but it’s worth it, if only for the feeling of confidence it gives you. Truth is, you rarely had to use it. Your strategy relies on avoiding confrontation at all costs.

You release it when you realize that there are very few people who can come knocking at your door.

After all, monsters don’t knock.

You rush to the door without letting go of the bat. Your habits are ingrained in you well enough that you still check the peephole — and when you do, your heart somersaults in your chest.

You keep the hinges well-oiled and the door doesn’t make a sound when you open it.

“Come in,” you whisper, not daring to break the silence with actual words.

Cha Hyun-Su stares at you, looks like he hesitates. He always does, looks like he wants to give you a chance to slam the door back in his face. He’s covered in blood now — ‘not mine’, you know he’d say if you asked —, clutching his wrist, lips chapped, eyes hollow.

“Come on,” you say again, and this time he does, walking by you without a word. Then he goes still once more, there in your entrance, while you close the door behind him. He always does that, until you give him explicit permission.

“Are you okay?” you ask when you turn around, hands reaching for his arms, his torso, trying to check on him, though you cannot see whether or not he is hurt.

“I’m fine,” he replies with that deep voice of his, catching your wrists before you can feel for yourself. “It’s not my blood.”

It never is.

“But are you hurt?” you press, still.

He frowns, and confusion sparks in his eyes.

“I told you. I’m fine.”

You shake your head.

“No, I mean— Does it hurt? Does anything hurt?”

Hyun-Su’s lips part. He closes his eyes. His body sways towards yours, and you freeze. You feel his breath against your cheek, and his grip on your wrist becomes lighter— a caress, at most. You just stay there, not wanting to scare him away, but not wanting to leave him to himself either. You feel a pull towards him, the urge to wrap your arms around him, and you resist it, knowing that he’d flee.

Finally, he snaps out of it, lets go of you, takes a step back.

“I’m fine,” he repeats for a third time.

You don’t push it.

“Do you want to take a bath?”

Clean water isn’t easy to come by these days. Fortunately for you, you have a complex system designed to retain rain water as well as morning dew, put in place by your father, when he was still around. It’s rained recently, and with the help of solar panels you’d stolen with him what feels like a lifetime ago, you’ll be able to have hot water. Showers, you haven’t mastered — though you’re sure your dad would have figured it out by now — but you can at least offer him a warm bath.

Hyun-Su’s eyes are on you, wide and focused.

They’re ever so slightly warmer than they were when he came in.

“I would like that.”

Hyun-Su comes out of the bathroom some thirty minutes later, clean and looking more like himself. He’s wearing clothes he’d left there on one of his other visits, which you’d washed by hand among some of your stuff.

“Thank you,” he says, his voice firmer than it had been earlier.

“It’s not a problem,” you reply, and you have to stop yourself from grimacing at how fake your nonchalance sounds to your ears.

If he notices, he doesn’t comment on it.

“Have you been okay here?” he asks instead.

You bite the inside of your cheek. The answer is complicated. You’ve been safe, physically that is. You have barely caught sight of a monster since he’s last been here — nine days ago. You can’t say you’re bored, either. There’s always things to do, to fix, to figure out around here.

What you are, is alone.

And, though you don’t want to admit it, lonely.

It might be the kind of answer he’s looking for, yet you can’t bring yourself to say it out loud. It’s not even that you don’t want him to know.

It’s that you’re scared that if you did, if you asked him to stay or to take you with him, he would still leave you behind.

“I make do,” you reply, which at least isn’t a lie. “I keep myself busy.”

It’s your turn to freeze when Hyun-Su leans forward, trying to meet your eyes.

“Are you hurt?”

A smile escapes you at his cautious tone as he repeats your words at you. You look up, and there he is, inches away from your face, checking on you in the very same way you’d checked on him when he’d arrived — now that he’s had the time and space to collect himself. For half a second, the corner of his lips lifts clumsily to form a smile in response to yours, and then it’s gone, as he, too, realizes how close he is.

You see him sucking in a breath, then swallowing, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Your heart beats so loud in your ears, you can’t even hear the silence anymore.

“I’m not hurt,” you say, and it is true for now, at least.

Hyun-Su nods without moving away. There’s an intensity in his eyes that you’re not used to, a spark, a craving.

His eyes drop to your lips.

Your whole body is tingling with anticipation, yet you don’t move, no matter how badly you want to close the gap between you. You can’t rush him. You’d never forgive yourself, if he didn’t come back.

He leans forward, just by an inch, then closer again, so close and—

He turns his head at the last moment, late enough that his cheek brushes against yours, before he pulls himself back.

That hurts. It makes your heart ache more than you’ve let yourself hurt in forever.

“Sorry,” Hyun-Su mumbles, stumbling back. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say. You’re not sure if he’s apologizing for trying to kiss you, or for not doing it.

“I’ve brought you food,” he says in a rush, picking up his backpack by the entrance door.

You watch him as he does, and you can’t help but note the many wounds on his body. Most of them are half-closed, and you know that they’ll be gone by the next time he comes back, but that new ones will have had the time to open and heal halfway.

He hands you his offering of food, without meeting your eyes this time, and you take it from him. Your fingers brush against him, and he moves his hand away like you’ve just burned him.

“It’s late,” you say, your voice quiet even to your own ears, even now that you’re so accustomed to the lack of noise. You don’t want him to go, not just yet. “You should sleep here.”

But, just like you expected, Hyun-Su shakes his head and closes his backpack with shaky hands.

“I need to go,” he says. Then, when you don’t answer — can he tell you’re fighting back tears? —, he adds “I’ll come back. I promise.”

You nod. It’s your turn to avoid his eyes.

“I’ll be waiting,” you say.

You open the door for him, and you force yourself to look at him as he steps back outside, into the unknown, into the danger, and away from you.

He looks back, right before disappearing in the night.

“Stay safe,” you say, though you know he won’t.

“You too,” he says, knowing you will.

And then he’s gone, and you’re alone with the silence again.

next part

#hyunsu x reader #cha hyun su x reader #sweet home #sweet home netflix #cha hyun su #sweet home x reader #sweet home season 2 #hyun su x reader #cha hyunsoo #cha hyunsoo x reader #hyunsoo x reader

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puckarchives · 5 months

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basement yard conversations: l. hughes

blurb: in which you overhear luke say that you’re much more attractive than him while he’s talking to jack and quinn. / word count: 1.7k / pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader

The conversation had taken place on the back deck of the Hughes Family lake house, and to be fair, you don’t think you were supposed to be particularly privy to it. It was nearing almost 11 PM at night, and you had just come out of the shower— clean and sun kissed and reveling in the after effects of a day well spent out in the sun with your favorite boy and your favorite family.

This was the second summer you had spent with Luke, and by default, the entire Hughes gang as they took a much deserved rest in the off-season, now that both the Devils and Canucks had ended their seasons. So, with you being off from college and the boys not starting their training for at least two more weeks, you had opted to spend some time at the lake house in Michigan.

That particular day, you had spent most of your morning (and afternoon, if you were being honest,) out on the lake, simply laying on the boat or joining in when the boys began wakeboarding— falling a few times, but ultimately being able to hold your own before Luke had jumped in with you, and caused you both to go tumbling into the water.

From the boat, you could hear both Jack and Quinn laughing at you and Luke, both of you making your way over to where they had stilled in order to let you reboard, and where Luke readied himself to begin his turn— which didn’t last long, as he began swaying to the point where he just simply fell over.

Once the four of you had come back in, it was straight to the shower for you— a moment to wash off the lake water and reapply aloe vera before your skin began to get dry.

Walking towards the back porch, you could see the boys huddled around the fire pit— Jack and Quinn sitting in their designated chairs, and Luke in a larger seat, waiting for you with a blanket in his hand. As you walked closer however, and before you could open the screen door, you overheard a snippet of their conversation— something that always surprised you, as their conversations could exist on a spectrum of simply talking about dinner plans, to them arguing over who the most problematic Pokémon character they played with growing up; currently, Charizard was in the lead because, as Luke had stated a few weeks prior, you can’t spell the world ‘Charizard’ without ‘hazard,’ an explanation that still made no sense to you, but that the boys had agreed to almost immediately.

Stilling at the fragments you could piece together, you could hear Jack repeating that he “definitely did have it,” but that for him, “it was louder than it was for Quinn.” You didn’t know exactly what “it” was referring to, but quickly pieced together your answer as Quinn spoke up.

“It’s like, the internet thinks I have no rizz. I got called a fucking wet cat the other day,” he said, waving his hands around. It was true— you had seen the tweet first, and then sent it to Luke, who promptly sent it into their group chat. So that’s what they were talking about— rizz.

Although you didn’t know exactly how that had come up— when you left, they were discussing the intricacies of Zegras’ worst choices— it was still a novelty to take in— the way that Quinn would talk in his broody way, only exacerbated by the winces he would occasionally give off because of his gnarly sunburn, whereas Jack was all excited hand movement and loud laughs. But it was your boy, specifically, who had all of your attention— Luke’s soft smirk on his lips, the way he would wait until either boy was finished talking before including his own thoughts, and the way he would keep egging on his brothers. However, you didn’t miss the way he would open his mouth to say something, but automatically be either shut down, or have to wait for another turn to avoid interrupting his brothers. While Luke may have been a killer on the ice, he was still the youngest brother— caught up in trying to work his hardest to be on the same level as his brothers, but still always beating himself up for it.

You didn’t think there had been a day where Luke went without comparing one thing about himself to his older brothers— whether it be simple comments about how he needed to get faster in order to compete with Quinn’s own speed, or even have better hand-eye coordination in order to keep up with Jack, it was always something that he lacked, and he never paid attention to the things he did have— things that you loved about him, like the way he would always bring his brother’s up in conversation— always with a smile on his face, and always reminiscing on their childhoods. He never spoke ill of anyone, (even when they deserved it,) and when he had hurt another player on the ice a few weeks back he had made it a point to apologize personally, and even send them a card. Luke, for all the faults he saw in himself, had one-hundred times the good parts, even when he didn’t recognize them.

It was the next few sentences, however, that caught your attention; now, the conversation had switched over from Jack and Quinn’s respective levels of charmism and ability to, as they so eloquently put it, “pull and have game,” to Luke’s, he looked down, still with a small smirk on his face, and played with his thumbs.

“Well, you see her,” Luke said. “She's definitely much more attractive than me, and if anything, I have the rizz because she was strong enough to get my head out of my ass and see that she had been there the entire time,” he laughed.

His brothers only egged him on, adding in moments where they saw Luke, quote on quote, ‘have game,’ including earlier that same day, when the four of you were out on the boat. When you had been putting together the coolers for the boys to lug on to the boat, Luke hadn’t missed a beat and, while you were chopping up pieces of fruit on the kitchen island, had flirted with you like he had never met you before, and hit on you.

“Well hello, pretty lady,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows, and flexing his arms above his back. He puffed out his chest in a mock bravado, and continued. “You come here often? Because you’re a sight for sore and beautiful eyes,” he said, scooting closer to you. For as cheesy as he was, Luke loved doing this— hitting on you as if you were two teenagers in the 80’s, and as if he hadn’t been your boyfriend for the past two years.

“You know, I’d love to take you out on the boat sometime, if you’re free? I’ll even let you drive it if we leave your boyfriend on the shore,” he said, now with his arms actually up, and him, (once again,) flexing. God, you’re boy was a total softie.

Your only response was heaving laughter, as anytime Luke got like this it only brought a smile on your face. “Well, sir, my boyfriend would surely be disappointed in me if I just left him on the shore” you jokingly replied. “And besides, he’s old. I’m not sure his fragile heart could take it if I just up and left,” you said, before closing the cooler and making your way outside.

Luke scrambled after you, only to grab the cooler out of your hands, open the door, and drop it right outside. Before you could ask why, he whistled over at Quinn who was waiting for the two of you on the deck, and scooped you up in his arms, before making his way to the dock, you still laughing, and him looking at you with a look of pure adoration, and, in your opinion— full of love.

Now, however, as you stood on the other side of the screen door, you opened it, automatically calling all three heads to look in your direction, and, as you walked towards Luke who had his arms open to you, said: “No, Luke’s definitely lying. This man has ALL the rizz. How do you think he keeps me coming back over-and-over for more?” you asked the other two, giving your boyfriend a kiss on the forehead as you stood between his legs and pet his still-wet curls.

“He can say that I’m the one who got him to notice me, but your brother? The ultimate rizz king,” you laughed, trying to mimic what you heard the gamers on TikTok say about rizz the other day.

“But, to settle your debate once and for all, I have literal proof of who has the most rizz,” you announced, to which the other two Hughes brothers cheered and egged you on to show them. Pulling up Twitter on your phone, you scrolled through your favorited tweets before getting to one that had made you bust out laughing only days prior, but that labeled what kind of “rizz” each Hughes brother had.

“According to this tweet, a certifiable source if I’ve ever seen one,” you joked, “Quinnjamin Hughes has the rizz level of a wet cat you want to take home, and of a man that just makes your “I CAN FIX HIM” fever go crazy, Jacket Hughes has the rizz of a man who had a borderline homoerotic relationship and a praise kink all in one, and Lucas Warner Hughes has the rizz of a man who will always shoot up and knows it,” you finished.

As you closed your phone and set it down, you looked up at the faces of the Hughes dynasty around you— Quinn was shaking with laughter, his head in his hands, Jack was wheezing in the corner over you calling Quinn “Quinnjamin” and the way they had gotten all of their names wrong, and Luke despite the jokes, was looking directly at you. He wasn’t laughing like his brother’s, but instead looking at you with the softest smile.

“And don’t I know it, sweetheart,” he said.

#luke hughes x reader #luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #nhl imagine #hughes brothers #new jersey devils #nj devils #jack hughes #quinn hughes

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digi-lov · 1 month

Text

Digimon Card Template->

Hey guys, I finally finished the templates! A few words to read before using, and more words under the cut if you will. I'd love to see any and all cards you create, so feel free to leave me an ask or DM! Also if you feel like supporting me a little, feel free to stop by my ko-fi->

First off, all fonts you need for the template are in the "Card Template Fonts" rar file. Remember to install them first before opening the files. Second, I recommend working with the PSD file in Photoshop, if you can. It has more and easier customization. If you use CSP, do use the CSP files. The PSD Text layers don't work in CSP, as well as certain other settings. I did my best to adapt the file to CSP, and it should work fine!

The Files have "HELP" layers in certain folders, I recommend reading them! Some of the Information I will repeat under the cut.

HAVE FUN! I wanna see lotta cards!

Okay, below the cut I'll leave some notes on how the Digimon cards are designed, as of the num <03> era at least.

Digimon cards have seven different colors. Red, Blue, Green, Yellow, Black, Purple, and White. White cards are rare and reserved for special Digimon/Tamers, and usually don't interact with other colors. For easier reading, Yellow and White cards have black text in their colors, instead of the usual white text. On multicolored cards, card including Yellow (or white in theory) have white text with a black outline. (before <03> if Yellow was the first color, the text was black with white outline instead, but they unified it with the update) The color on the left is considered the first color. Since the design update, the Card color is displayed in a color wheel around the Play cost. The digivolution cost bubble also recieved a color wheel, as well as the buble being split into the differen colors. Imagining it like a clock, the top color is the first, and then circling clockwise. Digi-Egg, or Lv.2 Digimon are always single color.

[tricolored cards have been introduced just recently and super rare. use sparingly]

Now to the Effects. The main effect is in white color with a black outline (also outlines on the keywords), while the Inherited Effect doesn't have outlines (unless it's a Yellow double color). If the Digimon has no Inherited Effect, there will be a small dash in the box.

Only white cards have black text in their main effect.

The effect text will start in the lower bottom of the image, not all the way at the bottom, and go down from there. If the Effect is too long it will move up.

Besides the regular evolution requirements, Digimon may have special "Digivolve" rules in their effect. This can make an evolution from a specific digimon cheaper, allow X Antibody Digimon to evolve from their normal counterparts, serve to overlook color requirements, or to allow evolution from certain traits, etc.

Some Digimon may also have an extra "Rule" in the bottom corner.

Ace Digimon will always have [Hand][Counter]<Blast Digivolve> effects. So far, they all had no inherited effects. They also have a significantly cheaper play cost than comparable Digimon, but in turn have the Overflow mechanic. EX6 introduced Blast DNA Digivolution, which specifies the required Digimon by name, and not just Level and color.

Lv.6 Digimon usually don't have inherited Effects, some might though, if they were made with Lv.7 evolution in mind. Furthermore Lv.6 Digimon pop out of their frame, even on the normal arts.

Now Tamers originally had neither traits, nor inheritence effects. But certain Tamers now do! Tamers with Mind Link effects, or the kids from Frontier for example, will have Inherited Effects.

Option cards have a grey backdrop for their effects, and the effect text is black. This black effect text carries over to full/alt arts, regardless of color. The have a (use) cost instead of a play cost. They can also have traits or rules, but it is rare.

#digimon #digimon tcg #digimon card game #digica #digisafe #デジカ #digimon card #digimon template #template #digi community #digi lov edits

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cheriladycl01 · 6 months

Text

The Rookie Prodigy - Carlos Sainz x Driver! Reader Part 1

Plot: You are a rookie coming into the 2022 season of Formula one into Alfa Romeo with team member Zhou Guanyu, being in a mid tier team can you help them rise up the ranks. What pressures occur for the only rookie within the 2022 line up!

Credit to macrazylive for the GIF

"We have had some amazing announcements this year. We only have two rookies on the grid this year that have a confirmed seat both in Alfa Romeo. So it should be an interesting season for them!" the first reporter says while walking around the paddock.

"Yes, its very uncommon to see a team take on two rookies in the same season, so it'll be interesting to see if they under perform based on these statistics or not" the other one admits.

Currently you were sat with Zhou your current team mate, he was teaching you a little bit of Chinese at your request.

"Are you nervous for today?" you ask him, you'd both done lots of media over the break so people could get to know you before the season start in Bahrain had begun.

"A little, but we will drive the very best that we can. I know it" he says pulling you into a side hug. You'd gotten very close to your team mate, both being rookies on the same team made you both sort of outcasts on the grid. Today would be your first time talking to the other 18 drivers.

"We'll be fine i promise" he says before walking towards his car in the Alpha Romeo garage, you walk over to your race engineer Paul and go through the different strategies to make sure you know what each one means.

"Okay, its time for your first race, you got this. Remember your starting P11 and Zhou is starting P15. So you just got to make up some pace, and you'll be in points region. Get a good start, and overtake Esteban while defending from Mick, Lando may help you with that but you'll need to then defend from him" he advices and you nod. You take your helmet that your best friend designed for you on place it over your head.

Paul, taps the back of your helmet covered head, before bumping fits with you. You pull yourself into the car under the halo before placing the wheel on.

"Okay, lets go and grab some points" Paul says after he'd checked the radio to make sure you had good connection.

At the start lights you had an impeccable start going wide on the outside of Ocon and Gasly and moving into 9th place. Lando had managed to overtake Mick and was gaining.

"Amazing start Y/N P9 as of now. George ahead, attempt overtake at turn 4. He's 0.4 seconds ahead" you hear your race engineer point out. You can see the Mercedes ahead, and going into turn for you go for the risky move and break later than George. You gave him enough room and he swung wide, not wanting to damage the car giving you a gap to get through.

"What's this Martin! Y/N is storming through this track, starting in P11 and she's already made her way up to P8 taking over drivers who have been in F1 much longer than her. This is some incredible driving we are seeing"

Eventually you had to pit, but it was an exceptionally fast pit-stop that was well timed from your team and had you coming out behind Gasly . You went a few laps, dancing around with him where you both had the pace, but the minute your tires warmed up and his had worn out enough you ploughed on ahead creating a large time gap along the straight.

"You've got Alonso ahead, 1.2 second gap, lets close it on those Sector 2 corners" Paul directs. In no time you make your way up to P6, Magnussen was ahead in P5.

"How many laps left? Can i catch him?" you ask your engineer.

"2 seconds ahead and 10 laps, you can catch him if you speed up Sector 1" he advises. You put you head to it, and managed to overtake.

"This is insane Alfa Romeo are storming this season along with Ferrari, right now, we have Charles Leclerc in P1, Carlos Sainz in P2, Lewis Hamilton in P3 and oh what is this, its NOT, i repeat NOT a double finish for Mercedes, Y/N has overtaken George Russell even on the older tires. And her counter part in Alfa Romeo is in P9 this is an amazing start to the season for the two Ferrari teams"

"AND THAT'S IT CHARLES LECLERC HAS COME FIRST AT BAHRAIN, SAINZ IN SECOND, HAMILTON IN THIRD"

"You've done it Y/N that's P4 we now have 14 points at the starts of the season!" Paul voices. You pull up jumping out your car and hugging everyone.

"I don't think i could have done it if Max and Checo finished, they would have come ahead of me!" you admit, you pull your helmet off balaclava coming off with it. The top bit of your hair was sheened with sweat. You run your hands through it trying to get some more volume through it.

"You'll be in an interview with the TOP 5, from today" Fred says patting your back, he guides you to where the interviews out there.

"Oh Carlos, Charles come say hello to Y/N you haven't met her yet!" Fred offers you up and the two Ferrari boys come over.

"Wow, you are more beautiful in real life than you are in your driver picture!" Carlos says taking your hand and kissing it, a blush coming onto your face.

"You are a fantastic rookie!" Charles compliments pulling you into a hug before offering you up his water. You nod realizing you hadn't picked yours up from the garage.

"Thank you, I'm dying" you joke, and sky from his Ferrari bottle before handing it back to him.

"Omg that's Lewis Hamilton" you whisper looking over at the 7 time world champion that was ahead of you.

"Why didn't we get that reaction mi hermosa?" Carlos asks, and you blush.

"It's Lewis Hamilton!" you say just looking at him in awe.

"Hey great race today Y/L/N. Haven't seen a rookie like you since myself"

"Oh my god" you says in awe. He pulls you into a hug and starts to ask you questions, while Carlos keeps interrupting.

"Well its actually funny because I've been watching you for the last two years in F2" Carlos says as Lewis asks you what prior championships you'd won and how you'd got your seat in Alfa Romeo.

"Oh, you did?" you ask.

"Yeah I actually came to the garage one time, not yours but i was there!"

"That's cool man, I also kept up with her career. I just like to ask so people can gloat about their own achievements, its good for the soul" he smiled a little awkwardly at Carlos and his sudden need to prove that he, knew you better? Is that what that was?

"Come on guys, time for interviews" one of the directors call, George, Lewis and Charles start to walk through but Carlos grabs your hand and holds you back.

"Come out with me tonight, to celebrate?" he asks, however your PR manager comes out and pulls you away from him.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one fanfiction #formula one #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz x y/n

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darkbluekies · 1 year

Note

What if reader did somehow manage to escape Silas for at least more then a year?

White bunny

Mafia!yandere OC x reader

Summary: a year has passed since you escaped Silas. When he finally finds you, you're a shell of what you once were and he desperately tries piecing you back together.

Warnings: angst, kidnapping, panic attacks, a bit of age regressing? (I don't know), broken reader, knife

Word count: 1.6k

He’s found you. He’s finally found you. For a year you’ve managed to keep yourself out of his reach … but not anymore. You’re going to come back home now. He can’t stand to be away from you even a second more.

“Pick the lock”, Silas tells one of his men. “Quietly. If we wake up the other residents in this building they’ll call the cops.”

The man in front of him nods and sinks down on his knees by the front door with his hands full of supplies. Silas watches as he picks the lock with a satisfying feeling in his body. He’ll be able to hold you soon. A year has been too much for him. He usually can’t stay away from you for three hours … let alone a year. The second he sees you, he’ll capture you in his strong arms and never let you go again. His heart hammers in his chest at the thought that there’s only a locked door in between you. Soon.

“It’s open”, the man says.

Silas smiles and opens the door. The apartment is dimly lit, an indication that you must be asleep. His heart swells. Oh, how pretty you must be.

Sadly, one of his men knocks over a vase with his machete. Silas can hear it crash against the floor, but has no time to stop it. Mortified, he looks around, expecting you to stand in any of the door frames. He’s quiet as a dead mouse, listening. He can hear moving in the room to his left and grabs the handle. Locked? He tries again, harsher this time.

“I know it’s you”, he can hear your voice whisper from the other side of the door. “Leave, Silas.”

“L-Leave?” he repeats. “Are you nuts? I’ve been looking for you for a whole fucking year, baby! I’m not going anywhere. And if I am, you’re coming with me. Don’t make me break down this door.”

He feels like a feral animal. Every inch of his body needs to feel you and he’ll go crazy soon if he doesn’t get to have you.

“I’m not going anywhere”, you spit.

Silas turns to his men and gestures for them to pick the lock. Only a few minutes later, Silas opens the door. You’re crouched down in the darkest corner of the bedroom with a knife held out in front of you. Silas breaks out into a relieved smile. It’s really you. His dear, little Y/N.

“Why don’t you put down the knife before you hurt yourself and come over here and give me a big hug, hm?” he asks and opens his arms.

“I’d rather plunge the knife through my heart”, you growl back.

Taken aback is an understatement. Silas frowns in shock.

“Why?” he wonders.

“I don’t want your filthy hands on me!”

“Well, that’s not up to you to choose-”

“No, I’m serious, don’t touch me!”

He freezes at your tone. You sound absolutely horrified at the thought of him touching you? Everything about your body language is in defense. You seem ready to attack him if he moves just the slightest bit closer. You’ve never been like this before. WHat has happened to you?

“Y/N, put down the knife”, he says again, calmer this time, testing the waters. “I’m just going to talk to you. Okay?”

You shake your head quickly, lifting the knife with shaking hands.

“Take it”, he orders one of his men.

The designated man moves closer and you swing the knife wherever you can reach, cutting him here and there, but he is like a machine — not moving an inch. He grabs the knife out of your hands and backs away. You’re defenseless now, just like Silas wants you to be. He walks over to you and sinks down in a squat to take in the sight of you. Your entire body is shaking violently, wide eyes following his slightest motions. Silas reaches out his hand to stroke your head and calm you down, but you scream in terror and cover your face with your arms.

“Baby, I wasn’t going to hurt you”, he says, growing worried. “What’s wrong, little thing?”

he can hear you whisper something and leans closer to hear. A mantra of ‘don’t touch me, don’t touch me’ leaves your trembling lips. He can feel his heart sink to his stomach. Did he do this to you? He can’t have … can he?

“Give me the rope”, he says over his shoulder. “If I can’t touch them, I have to make a leash or something.”

Your cries escalate. Silas turns to look at you with even more despair.

“P-Please”, you beg incoherently. “A-Anything but that. Please!”

Silas gulps. This is his doing, a hundred percent. The touching can be coincidental, but he’s the only one who’s kept you tied. Things start to click together. Oh, what an idiot he is.

“Little thing, look at me”, he says. “I’m not going to touch you and I’m not going to tie you, but I’m not leaving this apartment without you. You got that?”

You nod quickly. He wants nothing more than to wipe your tears and hold you tightly in his arms, but he won’t be able to hear more of your cries. He starts to think of a way to get you out of here without frightening you even more, but his worries are quickly resolved. The lack of air you got when hyperventilating has made you black out.

“I’ll take them”, Silas says and lifts you up in his arms. “Don’t worry, little thing, when we get home, you’ll go back to normal.”

Oh, how wrong Silas was. You’re quiet and reserved and refuse to be touched. All you do is sit in bed while hugging your legs to your body and keep your eyes down on the mattress. He has to come up with a solution to make you relax. You haven’t slept or eaten in days now. He leaves to go to the store in hope to find something to get you loosened up. While looking through aisles of scented candles and body lotion, he sees the children’s department. With one last resort, he walks over to the stuffed animals.

“Are you sure Y/N would like a stuffed animal?” his second in command asks hesitantly.

“What other fucking choice do I have?” he groans. “If they refuse to hug me, I guess I have to find a substitute. I can’t fucking listen to their crying anymore. They barely want to be in the same bed as me. This has to stop before I go insane.”

“Which one should you pick?”

“I think the white bunny will be the best alternative.”

He picks out the fluffy animal and heads straight for the cashier. The woman seems to recognize him, but doesn’t say anything. Silas is grateful for it. He’s in no headspace to be dealing with people today. All he wants is to see his little angel happy.

When he comes home, he notices that his bedroom door is open.

“Shit!” he gasps and looks around, seeing his second in command. “Get the car, they escaped again!”

He’s just about to pass the guest room when he notices that the door is ajar. Carefully, he peaks in, finding you lying on the bed in a fetal position. Silas sticks out his head in the corridor and alerts the second in command that you’re found before sneaking into the guest room.

“Hey, baby”, he whispers gently. “I got you something.”

You don’t move.

“Here”, he says, placing the white bunny on the bedside table.

Silas holds his breath, waiting for your reaction. He silently begs for you to like it. Carefully, you sit up and pet the soft toy. Silas notices how your eyes aren’t … dull anymore. You seem to recognize the toy somehow.

“D-Do you like it?” Silas asks nervously.

“Bunny …”, you whisper.

“Yes! Yes, it’s a bunny. I got it for you. Do you like it?”

You nod slowly and take it in your hands. For a few seconds you feel around before hugging it close to your chest. Silas breathes out in relief.

“Why are you here?” he asks. “I thought you ran away again …”

“I didn’t want to be in there”, you mumble. “Want to be away from you.”

“But … you’re mine. We’re meant to be together. I haven’t touched or tied you a single time since we came home. Why can’t you at least acknowledge my presence?”

“Scary …”

“I’m not meaning to- … wait, why do you talk like that?”

You look at him questionably.

“You talk … almost baby like”, he says slowly. “What’s going on?”

You hug the bunny closer.

“Oh … I get it”, he says, nodding. “Would you like to watch ‘Scooby Doo’ with me? In the living room? We can get you some vanilla ice cream and those cookies you mentioned that you liked when you were a kid.”

You nod. Silas breaks out into a smile and nods along.

“Alright”, he says. “Let’s go downstairs.”

You voluntarily follow him down to the living room, hugging the toy closely. He can’t seem to figure out why you suddenly started to act younger than you actually are, but he's not going to question it. You’re not crying, you’re not telling him to go away. That’s good enough. He creates a fort of pillows and blankets on the floor for the two of you to sit on, almost making a pillow fort. If you need childhood stuff, he’ll give them to you.

Silas gives you glances throughout the movie. He knows he has gotten a second chance. You’re broken and it’s all because of him. He breathes in. This time, he’ll be careful. He’ll never hurt you again.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere fics #yandere stories #yandere mafia #yandere oc x you #silas oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere male

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hd-junglebook · 1 month

Text

Little Dove

Quinn Hughes x Reader

masterlist link

a:n This is part 1 and officially my first ever Quinn Hughes fic, this series will be pretty long since I want to get into the details and emotions. There will be no skimping on details. Not round here partner.

also he looks so good in this gif good god!

summary: Sometimes Y/N's effort just isn't enough; every attempt seems to be futile and disregarded. The people she calls mom and dad do nothing but disappoint her, brushing her off as an ungrateful child. It seems the only person who can truly see her is Quinn.

Word Count - 4140

...

The sun had barely begun to peek through the towering skyscrapers of the bustling city as Y/N stepped out of her sleek, black car. Her red bottom heels clicked against the pavement with each confident stride, the sound echoing through the quiet morning air. She adjusted her perfectly tailored skirt, smoothing out any wrinkles that may have formed during her commute.

As she approached the imposing glass doors of her parents' company headquarters, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease.

Despite the success and prestige that came with working for her family's business, Y/N knew deep down that this wasn't her true calling. Nevertheless, she put on a brave face and pushed through the doors, ready to tackle another day.

The security guard, a friendly older gentleman named Frank, greeted her with a warm smile. "Good morning, Miss Y/N," he said, tipping his hat in her direction.

Y/N returned the smile, her red lipstick a striking contrast against her porcelain skin. "Good morning, Frank. I hope you had a lovely weekend," she replied, her voice smooth and polished, befitting her corporate persona.

As she made her way through the spacious lobby, her heels clicked against the polished marble floor, announcing her presence to the few early risers already at their desks. She entered the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor, where her office was located.

Stepping out into the hallway, Y/N was greeted by the sight of her office, its glass walls doing little to provide privacy. The modern, minimalist design was a reflection of her parents' tastes rather than her own. She sighed.

With a deep breath, Y/N pushed open the glass door and entered her office, ready to start another day in a job that left her feeling unfulfilled, yearning for something more.

Y/N settled into her plush, ergonomic chair, the leather cool against her skin. She reached forward and pressed the power button on her sleek, silver computer, watching as the screen flickered to life. The familiar logo of her parents' company appeared, a constant reminder of her obligations and the path she felt pressured to follow.

The computer hummed quietly, Y/N began to sort through the stack of paperwork on her desk. She picked up a folder, her perfectly manicured nails a stark contrast against the crisp, white paper. Just as she was about to open the file, a buzzing sound emanated from her designer purse.

Curiosity piqued, Y/N reached into her bag and retrieved her phone. The screen displayed a new text message, and her heart skipped a beat as she read the name: Quinn. she opened the message.

"Hey princess," the text read, the words both endearing and frustrating.

Y/N sighed, leaning back in her chair as she contemplated her response. Quinn had a way of blurring the lines between playful banter and genuine affection, leaving her constantly questioning the nature of their relationship. His messages were often short and casual, but the term of endearment he used never failed to send a flutter through her chest.

Despite his repeated claims that he wasn't looking for anything serious, Quinn seemed to take pleasure in pushing the boundaries, leaving Y/N in a state of confusion and longing.

She knew she shouldn't let herself get too attached, but there was something about him that drew her in, making it difficult to maintain the emotional distance she knew was necessary.

With another sigh, Y/N set her phone back down on the desk, trying to focus on the task at hand. She knew she needed to establish clearer boundaries with Quinn, but the thought of pushing him away completely left an ache in her heart.

Y/n shook her head, attempting to clear her mind and concentrate on the paperwork before her, even as thoughts of Quinn lingered in the back of her mind.

…

Y/N's attention was drawn away from her mother's presentation as her phone buzzed once more. She discreetly glanced at the screen under the table, her heart racing as she saw Quinn's name appear again. Her cheeks flushed with a mixture of excitement and guilt as she read his messages.

"I miss you," the first text read, causing a warmth to spread through her chest. Before she could fully process the implications of his words, another message followed: "Are we still good for tmrw?"

Y/N's mind raced as she contemplated her response. She had agreed to go out with Quinn for dinner tomorrow, a decision she had made in a moment of weakness, longing for the thrill of his company.

Now, sitting in the business room with her parents, the reality of her situation came crashing down upon her.

She glanced up, her eyes meeting her father's stern gaze from across the table. He sat in his imposing grey chair, his posture straight and attentive as he listened to Dedra's presentation.

Y/N knew that her parents had high expectations for her, and the thought of disappointing them weighed heavily on her conscience.

As Dedra continued to explain the new company policy, Y/N found it increasingly difficult to focus. Her mind wandered to thoughts of Quinn, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and the effortless charm he exuded. She yearned to respond to his messages, to confirm their plans and lose herself in the excitement of their secret rendezvous.

Y/N's heart raced as she quickly typed out her response to Quinn, her fingers flying across the screen. She glanced up every few seconds, ensuring that her parents were still engaged in the presentation. With a final look of determination, she pressed send, a small thrill running through her body.

Almost instantly, her phone buzzed with Quinn's reply. "Wear that red dress I bought you."

Y/N's eyebrows raised in surprise, a smirk playing on her lips as she typed back, "The v neck dress?"

"Yeah, that one."

"I will ;), I have to go back to work, I'll text you later." Y/N sent the message, a giddy feeling bubbling up inside her chest. However, her momentary happiness was short-lived as she felt a sharp kick under the table. Her eyes snapped up to meet her father's disapproving gaze, his brow furrowed in irritation.

the meeting concluded around her, Y/N's coworkers filed out of the room, muttering their polite goodbyes. Soon, only Y/N and her parents remained, the tension in the air palpable. Her mother fixed her with a stern look, her voice laced with disappointment.

"Y/N, you're not taking this as seriously as you need to be. This will be you one day." She paused, her eyes narrowing. "Who were you talking to?"

Y/N's heart sank, knowing that lying to her parents would only make matters worse. She opened her mouth to respond, but her father cut her off.

"Was it that hockey guy?" He scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. "He sucks, he'll never be good enough. I should've paid him off four months ago if I knew he'd be such a distraction."

Y/N's cheeks burned with a mixture of shame and anger. She hated the way her parents spoke about Quinn, as if he were nothing more than a nuisance to be dealt with. She knew they would never approve of their relationship but hearing them talk about him so callously only strengthened her resolve.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N met her parents' gazes, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her. "Quinn, and he's not a distraction.” Her mother's lips pressed into a thin line, disapproval etched into every line of her face.

Y/N's parents exchanged a knowing glance, their eyes filled with a mixture of disappointment and condescension. Her mother, Dedra, was a striking woman in her mid-50s, with perfectly coiffed blonde hair and a designer suit that hugged her slender frame.

Her father, Derek, was a tall, imposing man with salt-and-pepper hair and a perpetual scowl that seemed etched into his chiseled features.

Dedra leaned forward, her elbows resting on the polished mahogany table. "Y/N, darling," she began, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "you know we only want what's best for you. This... Quinn," she said his name as if it left a bitter taste in her mouth, "he's not good for you. He's a distraction, a phase. You'll see that soon enough."

Y/N felt her stomach twist, the all-too-familiar sensation of her parents' manipulation taking hold. She opened her mouth to protest, but Derek cut her off with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Enough, Y/N," he growled, his deep voice reverberating through the empty conference room. "You're not a child anymore. It's time you started acting like the adult you claim to be. This company, this life we've built for you - it's all we've ever wanted for you. And you're throwing it away for some lowlife hockey player who barely even made it to the big leagues."

Y/N's cheeks burned with anger and humiliation. She hated the way her parents made her feel, as if her thoughts and feelings were invalid, as if she were nothing more than a pawn in their grand scheme.

Dedra reached across the table, her perfectly manicured hand grasping Y/N's wrist. "Sweetheart," she said, her tone softening, "we love you. We just don't want to see you get hurt. Men like Quinn... they're not in it for the long haul. They'll use you, break your heart, and move on to the next pretty face. You deserve so much more than that."

Y/N felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them back, refusing to let her parents see her weakness. She knew they were wrong about Quinn, but their words still cut deep, playing on her insecurities and fears.

Derek stood up, his tall frame looming over her. "This discussion is over, Y/N. You'll end things with this Quinn character, and you'll focus on your work. Your future. Do I make myself clear?"

Y/N swallowed hard, her throat tight with emotion. She wanted to scream, to tell her parents that they had no right to control her life, but she knew it would be futile. With a curt nod, she pushed back from the table and stood up, her legs shaking beneath her.

"I have work to do," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "If you'll excuse me."

Without waiting for a response, Y/N turned on her heel and strode out of the conference room, her heart hammering in her chest.

…

The clock on the wall seemed to move at an agonizingly slow pace, each tick echoing through the cramped office space. Y/N leaned back in her chair, the leather creaking beneath her weight as she stared blankly at the computer screen.

The fluorescent lights above cast a harsh glow on her features, highlighting the dark circles under her eyes and the tension in her jaw.

Around her, the office hummed with activity, the sound of ringing phones and the gentle whir of computers filling the air. Y/N felt suffocated by the monotony of it all, the endless hours spent hunched over her desk, pouring over spreadsheets and reports.

As the clock finally struck three, Y/N let out a sigh of relief, the thought of going home filling her with a sense of euphoria. She could almost feel the soft embrace of her couch, the warmth of a glass of wine in her hand as she left the stresses of the day behind.

Just as she was about to log off her computer, a sharp knock at the door startled her from her thoughts. Alexandra, the secretary, peeked her head in, her perfectly styled hair and immaculate makeup a stark contrast to Y/N's tired appearance.

"I sent some of the paperwork to your email," Alexandra said, her voice saccharine sweet. "If you could just finish those up before you leave, that'd help a lot."

Y/N felt a surge of anger course through her veins, her patience wearing thin. She fixed Alexandra with a cold stare, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's three. I get to go home now, you know, like a normal person."

Alexandra's eyes narrowed, her lips pursing in disapproval. Y/N knew that the secretary had always treated her like nothing more than a privileged nepo baby, completely disregarding the fact that Y/N had never used her family's influence to step on any toes or make people do her bidding.

Y/N stood up from her chair, grabbing her purse and jacket from the back of her seat. She could feel Alexandra's eyes boring into her back as she made her way towards the door, but she refused to give the woman the satisfaction of seeing her frustration.

"I'll take care of it in the morning," Y/N said, her hand on the doorknob. "Have a good night, Alexandra."

Without waiting for a response, Y/N stepped out of her office, the sound of her heels clicking against the tiled floor as she made her way towards the elevators.

She could feel the weight of the day lifting from her shoulders with each step, the promise of freedom and the warmth of her bath calling to her like a siren song.

As the elevator doors closed behind her, Y/N let out a deep breath, her eyes fluttering closed as she leaned back against the cool metal wall. She knew that the road ahead would be filled with obstacles, but for now, all she wanted was to lose herself in the comfort of Quinn's arms and forget about the expectations and pressures that threatened to suffocate her.

…

The faucet let out a high-pitched squeak as Y/N twisted the gleaming chrome knob, the sound echoing off the tiled walls of the dimly lit bathroom. The flow of water slowed to a trickle before stopping completely, leaving behind a tub filled with steaming, inviting water.

Tendrils of steam rose from the water, carrying with them the intoxicating aroma.

With a fluid motion, Y/N untied the sash of her plush, white bathrobe, the soft fabric slipping off her shoulders and pooling at her feet. The cool air kissed her bare skin, sending a slight shiver down her spine as she stepped closer to the tub.

Tentatively, she dipped a toe into the water, testing the temperature. The heat was intense, but not unbearable, and Y/N slowly lowered herself into the bath, letting out a contented sigh as the warm water enveloped her body.

The water lapped at her shoulders, the heat penetrating her tired muscles and easing away the knots and tension that had accumulated throughout the day.

Y/N sank deeper into the rose petal-filled bathwater, the sweet, floral aroma wafting through the steamy air. The soft, delicate petals brushed against her skin, their velvety touch a gentle caress. She inhaled deeply, the scent of roses mingling with the subtle vanilla notes of her favorite candle, creating a soothing, intimate atmosphere.

As she leaned back, her hair cascaded over the edge of the tub, the ends dipping into the water and creating gentle ripples on the surface. Her eyes fluttered closed, lashes casting shadows on her flushed cheeks, a result of the bath's intense heat.

The tranquil moment was interrupted by the buzzing of her phone, its vibration echoing through the bathroom. Y/N's eyes snapped open, a curious expression on her face as she reached for the device.

Quinn's name flashed across the screen, his photo – a candid shot of him grinning widely, his dark hair tousled by the wind – accompanying the incoming call.

A smile tugged at the corners of Y/N's lips as she lifted herself from the bath, water droplets cascading down her smooth, sun-kissed skin. She grabbed the phone, tapping the screen to answer the call and putting it on speaker.

"Hi, hottie," Y/N greeted, her voice playful and warm.

Quinn's nerdy, endearing voice filled the bathroom, a chuckle evident in his tone. "Hey there, beautiful. How's my favorite girl doing tonight?"

Y/N reached for her glass of wine, the deep, rich red liquid swirling in the crystal glass. She took a sip, savoring the bold, fruity flavors on her tongue before responding. "Oh, you know, just unwinding after a long day at the office. How about you, handsome?"

"Counting down the minutes until I get to see you tomorrow," Quinn replied, a hint of mischief in his voice. "I can't stop thinking about how stunning you'll look in that red dress."

Y/N laughed softly, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink. She set the wine glass down, running her fingers through her damp hair, pushing it away from her face. "Mmm, you sure know how to make a girl feel special," she purred, her tone flirtatious.

"That's because you are special, Y/N," Quinn said, his voice softening. "I can't wait to have you all to myself tomorrow. No work, no distractions, just you and me."

Y/N's heart fluttered at his words, a giddy feeling spreading through her chest. She bit her lower lip, a coy smile playing on her features. "I like the sound of that," she murmured, her voice low and sultry. "You better be prepared to sweep me off my feet, mister."

Quinn's laughter filled the bathroom, warm and infectious. "Oh, I have a few tricks up my sleeve, don't you worry."

As they continued their playful banter, Y/N sank back into the bath, the warm water enveloping her once more. She closed her eyes, a contented sigh escaping her lips as she listened to Quinn's voice, the sound soothing her soul and filling her with anticipation for the day to come.

…

As the morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a soft, golden glow across the bedroom, Y/N's phone buzzed incessantly on the nightstand. The vibrations seemed to echo through the tranquil space, a jarring contrast to the peaceful atmosphere.

Beyond the window, the vibrant green of the trees and grass was visible, a testament to the beauty of the early morning.

The bedroom was a serene oasis, with its pristine white decor creating a sense of calm and comfort. The plush, white comforter enveloped Y/N, its softness lulling her into a state of drowsy contentment.

Y/N stirred, mumbling incoherently as she slowly turned over, her eyelids fluttering open. She squinted, her eyes adjusting to the bright sunlight that flooded the room. As she reached for her phone, the alarm blared to life, the glowing digits on the nightstand displaying a crisp 7:00 AM.

With a groan, Y/N sat up, her hand instinctively reaching for her phone. As she unlocked the device, she was greeted by a string of texts from her mother, Dedra. The messages, even in their digital form, seemed to drip with condescension.

"Y/N, don't forget about the family brunch today. Your father and I expect you to be there, and please, try to look presentable. We have important guests attending, and we can't have you embarrassing us like last time. And do try to be on time, darling. Punctuality is a virtue, after all."

Rolling her eyes, Y/N tossed her phone aside and begrudgingly dragged herself out of bed. She went about her morning routine, selecting a chic and appropriate outfit for the brunch and work before making her way to the kitchen.

As she entered the heart of her home, Y/N couldn't help but smile. The space was everything she had ever dreamed of – a perfect blend of modern elegance and cozy charm. She moved towards the kitchen island, her bare feet padding softly against the cool, hardwood floors.

While her coffee brewed, filling the air with its rich, invigorating aroma, Y/N leaned back against the island, her eyes drifting to the television mounted on the wall. The familiar characters of The 100, flashed across the screen.

She sipped her coffee, savoring the warmth and comfort it provided, as she lost herself in the post-apocalyptic world unfolding before her.

Y/N glanced at her watch, the sleek hands pointing to 8:30, a frustrated huff escaped her lips. She quickly shut off the television and grabbed her essentials, making her way out of the apartment and towards her car.

The drive to the office was usually a time for Y/N to unwind and mentally prepare for the day ahead, with her favorite podcast playing through the speakers.

However, today's episode left her feeling unsettled. The young creator, barely 18 years old, was excitedly announcing her pregnancy. The way she spoke about it, as if it were some sort of miraculous blessing, made Y/N's stomach churn. With a quick tap, she muted the podcast, silence filling the car as she navigated the familiar streets.

As she pulled into the parking lot of the imposing office building, Y/N's eyes immediately landed on Alexandra, who was just a few spots down from her. A wave of dread washed over her, and she quickly locked her car, determined to beat her colleague to the elevator.

Y/N's heels clicked against the pavement as she hurried towards the entrance, her breath coming in short, anxious bursts. She could hear Alexandra's footsteps echoing behind her.

Just as Y/N stepped into the elevator, her manicured finger jabbing the button for the 4th floor, she caught a glimpse of Alexandra rushing towards her. With a sly grin, Y/N pressed the close button, feigning interest in her perfectly polished nails as the doors began to slide shut.

Alexandra stumbled, her hand reaching out in a desperate attempt to stop the elevator, but it was too late. As the doors closed, Y/N looked up, meeting her colleague's gaze with a sad, insincere smile. The look of frustration and annoyance on Alexandra's face was a small victory for Y/N, a momentary triumph in the never-ending battle of office politics.

The elevator began its ascent, Y/N leaned back against the cool metal wall, her eyes closing for a brief moment. She inhaled deeply, trying to calm her racing heart and push away the lingering unease from the podcast. The day had barely begun, and already she felt drained.

It dinged, signaling her arrival on the 4th floor, Y/N straightened her shoulders and put on a brave face. She stepped out into the hallway.

…

The constant cacophony of rings and beeps filled Y/N's ears for the next three hours, the incessant noise drilling into her skull. The cramped office space felt more like a chicken coop than a professional workspace, and Y/N could feel her sanity slowly slipping away with each passing minute.

Just as she thought she couldn't take it anymore, Dedra peeked her head into the office, her critical gaze sweeping over the room before she entered. With a sense of entitlement, she perched herself on the edge of Y/N's desk, her perfectly manicured fingers toying with a strand of Y/N's hair.

"You know, you look stressed, Y/N," Dedra remarked, her tone laced with false concern. Her eyes then traveled down to Y/N's attire, and her face contorted into a look of disgust. "Is that what you're wearing to brunch?" she asked, her voice dripping with disapproval. "I guess it will do."

Before Y/N could respond, Dedra abruptly stood up and headed towards the door, gesturing for her daughter to follow. Y/N huffed in frustration, the weight of her mother's judgment pressing down on her. She quickly logged off her computer and gathered her belongings, trailing behind Dedra as they made their way through the office.

As they walked, Y/N could feel the eyes of her coworkers following them, their gazes a mix of curiosity and envy. She held her head high, refusing to let their attention faze her. Dedra, on the other hand, seemed to revel in the attention, her stride confident and purposeful as she led the way.

When they reached the front of the building, a sleek black limo slowly approached, its polished exterior gleaming in the sunlight. Y/N couldn't help but roll her eyes at the ostentatious display.

"Why do we need a limo for brunch?" she asked, exasperation evident in her voice. "Could you guys be any more extra?"

Dedra shot her a sharp look, her lips pursed in disapproval. "Appearances matter, Y/N," she said, her tone clipped. "We have a reputation to uphold, and arriving in style is part of that."

Y/N bit back a retort, knowing that arguing with her mother was a futile endeavor. As the limo pulled up to the curb, the driver promptly exited the vehicle, opening the door for them with a practiced bow.

Dedra climbed in first, her movements graceful and refined. Y/N followed suit, sinking into the plush leather seats with a sigh.

The vehicle pulled away from the curb, and Y/N watched as the office building grew smaller in the distance. She knew that the brunch would be just another performance, a carefully orchestrated display of wealth and status that she was expected to participate in.

…

message me to be added to the tag list. hope you enjoyed it. please lmk how you liked it.

(also I just made this idea today and I can't believe I already wrote chapter 1)

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lendeah · 4 months

Text

The currents of destiny

Chapter 2: Power hungry.

Summary: G'Axir shows Astarion what his life would be like had Tav carried on with the Ascension ritual. Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader/Tav Word Count: 3.3k Tags: Heavy Angst, Psychological Trauma, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Psychological Torture (kind of), Emotional Manipulation, Verbal Abuse, but just chapter 2, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending.

[AO3 Link]

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NOTE: PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS/TAGS BEFORE PROCEEDING. DARK CHAPTER. THANK YOU.

Before Astarion could protest or question further, a blinding white light engulfed him and G'axir both. He felt himself being pulled through space and time, his body weightless and disoriented.

Suddenly, he regained control of his body. And his breath was caught in his throat: he was in front of Cazador, his master still alive and well. His companions were a few meters away, watching him with apprehension. In an incredible turn of events, he had been transported back in time to just a few hours earlier. He attempted to call out to them, but his mouth moved on its own before he could say anything.

"Help me do this, please"

Astarion's heart dropped as he realized what was happening. He was a helpless spectator, forced to watch his own actions unfold without any control. He watched Tav's face, the conflict swimming in her eyes.

"We would kill all these people... seven thousand, Astarion. Are you sure?" she asked hesitantly.

"These people died years ago trust me on that. All that's left a feral spawn, desperate for blood. If we release them how many people will they kill? Tens of thousands? Hundreds of thousands?" he replied, but he sensed he was trying to convince himself just as much as Tav.

In the past, this was the point when Tav had refused to assist him. Now, however, she looked torn, her brows furrowed as she considered his offer.

"If I complete the ritual... think of the power I'll have. With me by your side we can we can save the city - we can save ourselves!" Astarion could hear the desperation in his own voice and he hated himself for it.

He could feel everything his mind was going through at that moment: fear, hunger for power, and a sense of desperate urgency. But amidst it all, he also saw the turmoil reflected in Tav's eyes. He could see the internal struggle she was facing, the weight of the decision weighing heavily on her shoulders, something he hadn't noticed before.

After a few seconds, he could sense the parasite quivering inside his mind, the telltale sign that Tav was opening her mind to him. The moment their minds linked, Tav's presence flooded his senses, and he saw himself through her eyes, standing in front of Cazador, his back to her revealing the intricate design of his scars. He felt her emotions; the trembling anxiety and deep concern, but also the unwavering trust she had in him.

Despite himself, he couldn't help but be curious about the potential outcome. The power and control that completing this ritual would bring were too enticing to ignore. And with Tav's help, he could finally get revenge on Cazador and be truly free.

After that, the vision blurred and flashed, a dizzying array of images assaulting Astarion's mind. He saw himself marking Cazador's back with the complex patterns that adorned his own back. Then, the image shifted and he was throwing his master into the very place that should have been his. In that moment, a blinding flash of red washed over Astarion and he felt an overwhelming surge of power coursing through his body. His senses were overloaded, his mind expanding to absorb all the knowledge and abilities that came with the ascension. It was like being struck by lightning, a rush that left him breathless and reeling. He repeated a series of words, an enchantment that felt unfamiliar on his tongue.

And after another flash, Astarion felt... nothing. No fear, no hunger, nothing at all. What is going on?

His surroundings slowly came into focus: the ground beneath him strewn with the bodies of his siblings, all lifeless and still. Blood stained the walls and floor, a stark contrast to the pristine stone that adorned them before. His body turned to look at Tav and his companions, who were still watching him from the sidelines. And they looked completely horrified at the sight.

"What have you done?!" Karlach screamed.

But his body, that other version of him, still didn't feel anything. The Ascended version of himself - stronger, more powerful than ever before – remained expressionless. A sickening realization hit him like a punch to the gut - his siblings, seven thousand souls, Sebastian, the Gur children... all dead because of him. And at that moment, Astarion felt a surge of guilt and shame wash over him. He couldn't believe what he had done. He had been consumed by his hunger for power, driven by his past self's desperation.

I didn't mean... I didn't think... Astarion stammered, trying to come to terms with what had just happened. But the words were lost in the void of his consciousness.

"Astarion…" Tav's voice was filled with disbelief and sadness. "Has this... really been worth it?" her voice cracked with disappointment, the sadness and guilt in her eyes too much for Astarion to bear.

He could feel the pain radiating off Tav. He needed to reach out, comfort her... but he couldn't. He was trapped inside his mind, a prisoner in his own flesh.

His body moved towards Tav slowly; reached out and cupped her cheek gently with its hand.

"I did it for you, for us," he whispered softly, running its thumb against her bruised and tear-streaked cheek.

And yet… as he saw the raw pain etched into her features; as he watched tears welling up in her eyes, spilling over and streaking down her cheeks; as he heard her whisper his name one more time – filled with sadness, disappointment, and an indescribable heartbreak – he felt nothing. His body felt nothing but pride and greed for more power. And the thought terrified him to his very core.

“Trust me, Tav,” His voice spoke on its own accord, before his consciousness was moving again.

He couldn't see anything else around him, just the overwhelming brightness that seemed to swallow him whole. When Astarion opened his eyes, the stone and debris had been replaced with pristine white walls adorned with elegant artwork. As he took in his new surroundings, a soft breeze tickled his skin and the gentle sounds of seagulls filled his ears. He was gazing out the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sparkling blue sea stretching out before him. He was no longer in the ruins of his past; he had been transported to a beautiful seaside bedroom.

Confusion filled his mind as he tried to make sense of what was happening. Was this another vision? Or was this reality?

His body turned from the windows to the space next to him, and he realized Tav was standing in front of him, looking... tired. And bruised.

"I really can't believe you let me do that... killing all those people..." Ascended Astarion chuckled darkly, "such a pleasant surprise."

He saw the guilt etched on her face, the sadness. Astarion felt his stomach churn at the thought that Tav might hate him for what he had done. But I didn't mean to...

Astarion's body walked towards Tav, reaching out to cup her face gently in its hand. But instead of the usual warmth and tenderness he felt towards her, there was only disgust. His body was repulsed by her weakness.

"I... I just wanted what was best for you," she replied softly, looking at her hands.

"You sweet, sweet thing," His body spoke in a mocking tone, the hand that once held such tenderness now gripping Tav's chin tightly, making her look at him. "I want what's best for you too, of course. And... one wicked turn deserves another."

Wait, what? Astarion felt a cold and ugly realization seep into his mind. Could he really mean... No, he wouldn't...

"Isn't that what you want, pet?" his body continued.

No. No she doesn't want it. What is this?! Stop this! "I-I just want you to be happy. I want us to stay together," Tav's voice trembled as she tried to reason with his body.

"Is that so?" His body countered. "You're the one that I want, the one that I love and you could be so much more if you want it. One little bite, and you could be mine, forever..." his ascended version said. But Astarion could taste de lie on his tongue. He wanted to make her his spawn.

And at that moment, Astarion felt pure unadulterated terror like he had never felt before. No! No no no! Astarion screamed, clawing at the invisible bars of his conscience. Please, no! Not her! Astarion's screams echoed inside his head as he watched his body move closer to Tav, his eyes glinting with hunger and desire for control. But it was no use. He was trapped inside his own nightmare, forced to relive the horrors of his past as he became the monster that once ruled over him.

His body was now leaning towards her, close enough to feel her soft breath against his lips, close enough to see the fear in her eyes – a fear he could not respond to. "Say it, love," it cooed dangerously, its voice a haunting echo of seductive promises.

"I... I..." Tav stuttered, her trembling hands tightly clutching the front of his shirt.

"Are you ready to join me? To accept this immortal gift? Say yes..." a commanding whisper slipped past his lips against his will, dark hunger coursing through his body. Astarion felt his soul scream in agony, unable to alter the horrible course he had set them on. Because he already knew that look in her eyes, that determination. It was the look she had when standing up for him against his siblings, the one she wore while letting him drink from her every night, the look she gave him on the night she confessed her love. The look that said she would do anything and everything for him.

Slowly, her lips moved, and a small whisper escaped them. "I love you..."

No! Astarion's soul shrieked inside his mind, but the body wasn't listening. Astarion tried to push back against the darkness, to will his body to do something, anything, to stop itself.

As tears streamed down her face, she whispered a tearful "yes." He longed to comfort her, to promise that everything would be okay and to protect her from the monstrous version of himself.

But it was too late.

His physical form gave into a cruel grin as she submitted to his will, and Astarion could feel its disgust at her degradation, at her weakness.

"I knew you'd come around..."

His body gently captured Tav's soft weeping face between his hands, his thumbs brushing away the mournful tears on her cheeks. "Such a good girl," his voice was honeyed darkness, "You'll be so beautiful... everlasting... My dark consort."

His body slowly pushed Tav down to the floor, her back resting against the cold stone. It was a cruel twist of fate that the one person who had shown him kindness and acceptance would now become his first slave. Tav closed her eyes as he pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. The irony wasn't lost on Astarion, he was giving her a lover's kiss before death.

As his body pulled away from the kiss, his icy fingers traced down from her throat to the collar of her shirt. He slowly peeled it off to bare her neck, not breaking eye contact. "Tonight I shall drink every drop of your blood, own your body, kill your mind. It will hurt a bit, but worry not; the pleasure will be far greater than the pain." his body said, grinning wolfishly at Tav who was paralyzed in fear, yet rooted in love.

She was heaving, fear evident in her features. "P-please, just... be gentle."

No! Please, don't kill her! Not her! Astarion's conscience screamed for him to stop, to save the woman he loves from this fate. But he was powerless, trapped inside his own body as it lowered its head towards her exposed neck. The scent of her blood, warm and sweet filled his nostrils. His fangs bore into her flesh and released a mouthful of hot crimson life that made Astarion's instinctual heart pound with excitement even as his soul recoiled in horror.

He felt completely helpless as he witnessed his own body draining the life from Tav, not even able to look away. He was forced to listen to her soft gasps and whimpers, unable to do anything to stop it. The person he loved more than anyone else was slowly dying at his own hands. He could do nothing but watch as she lay on the floor, surrounded by a pool of blood, her once vibrant skin now pale and her lips lacking their usual rosy color. Those same lips that he had loved to kiss and watch curve into an easy smile were now still and lifeless.

If he could have shed tears, he would have wept in despair and regret. If he were in his own physical form, he knew he would be retching now. But he could do nothing but scream and claw, the pain all consuming in his soul.

After what seemed like an eternity, his body finally pulled away from Tav's neck and stood up straight. He wiped the blood off his lips with the back of his hand and looked down at Tav's lifeless body with a sense of triumph.

"You were delicious as always, dear," his voice echoed inside Astarion's mind.

And just like that, he was once again drifting through the vast emptiness of space. But his exhaustion and defeat were so overwhelming that he couldn't bring himself to care.

When the light faded after what seemed like hours, Astarion found himself standing in a familiar place - Cazador's Palace once again. But this time, it was... different. At first, he couldn't pinpoint it. But then, he noticed: the paintings on the wall didn't depict his former master anymore. He froze as he watched the stranger with white hair and red eyes watching him from the portrait. The man's face was unknown, but something about him felt...familiar. Remnants from another life.

He couldn't look away from those piercing red eyes that seemed to bore into his soul. His body stepped closer, reaching out a hand to touch the painting.

And he realized, it wasn't a stranger; it was himself. Older, more weathered, and with a haunting look in his red eyes. The first time he was seeing his face in 200 years. His finger slid over the canvas, feeling the rough texture beneath his touch. There was pride emanating from this version of himself and it sent shivers down his spine.

What is this? he whispered inside his mind, his voice cracking with emotion.

The realm of possibilities... that might have unfolded had you embraced ascension... your destiny left unfulfilled... G'axir's voice echoed through his subconscious.

Astarion's stomach churned as his body moved around the room. Everything had been changed. The furniture was placed differently, new artwork adorned the walls, but it still retained its eerie and dark atmosphere as it did with his old master. As he traversed down a never-ending corridor, his steps echoed loudly in the eerie silence. Servants scurried past him, their heads bowed in reverence. But there was something off about them, almost as if they were under some sort of spell. Their movements were stiff and mechanical, and their eyes lacked any emotion or life.

After what felt like an eternity, his body finally reached the grand dining hall. Two servants dressed in impeccably crisp uniforms opened the massive doors for him. The room was filled with the warm, flickering light of numerous candles, illuminating the extravagant decorations adorning the walls. A long table stretched across the room, set with elegant china and silverware that could only belong to a king. But there was no one sitting at the table, creating a strange emptiness in the room. His body continued past the elaborate table, towards a magnificent throne that now stood at the far end of the room.

No. No, no, no.

There, atop the throne, draped in garments more regal than his master Cazador had ever let him wear, sat Tav. Her skin was nearly translucent, veins snaking just beneath the surface like tendrils of a creeping vine. Her eyes radiated an unnatural crimson glow that revealed her spawn nature. Tav's face held no familiarity in its gaze; only vacant submission under her crimson eyes. She looked nothing like the woman he had known - stubborn, fierce, and full of life. Now all that remained was an empty shell drained of hope and vitality, turned into a puppet. The sight of it made his stomach flip. This could not be happening. It was a nightmare.

He watched, appalled, as his body ascended the steps to the throne with a predatory grace. She, on the other hand, stood from the throne, head bowed in submission. He took his place on the seat, pulling Tav onto his lap. She sat there silently, not moving or uttering a single word.

I'm so sorry Astarion whispered brokenly inside his head.

And then, horror upon horror, his body began to speak.

"My beautiful pet," he murmured into the hollow of her neck. "Isn't it a delight to see how far we've come?"

She met the gaze of her new master with an impassive face - a puppet on strings. "Of course. I couldn't be happier, my lord," she replied, though her face remained impassive, not even a ghost of an emotion flickering in her eyes. Her body seemed rigid, save for the slight tremble that shook her form.

She didn't fight back or resist, which only fueled the anger of his ascended self. He could sense its thoughts; how she was now dull and uninteresting, lacking all the fire and fight that she once had.

"Ah, so compliant..." his mouth whispers, tracing a thumb along her jawline - a horribly intimate act that made Astarion's heart lurch in revulsion. "But you've been very bad, trying to sneak out at night," his body continued, pressing its lips against Tav's neck in a mock kiss. "And you know what we do to naughty pets..."

Astarion's mind was filled with revulsion and disgust at the scene happening before him. His worst fear had come true: he had used and abused her feelings until there was nothing left of the person she used to be. He couldn't believe he had almost let himself become so consumed by power. He couldn't believe he had begged for Tav to turn him into this. Into... his master.

He had everything he had ever wanted: power, control, and Tav by his side. And yet, holding all this in his grasp, his body felt empty. Devoid of any emotion. The ritual had given him everything he had hoped for, and he had paid the price with his soul.

"Now," the voice continued, "I think it’s time you show your master just how truly sorry you are."

Ascended Astarion's hand tightened around her throat as he dragged her towards his lips. She struggled against his grip, clawing at his arm and gasping for air, but he was too strong.

"NO! Astarion, please!" She begged, out of breath.

Astarion was panicking, searching for a way out of this nightmare. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break free from his own body's control. As Astarion's mind reached its breaking point, G'Axir's voice echoed back in his head.

In your gaze... the aftermath unfolds... revealing the life consumed by an insatiable hunger for power. G'Axir supplies in his mind. Prepared to venture forth... into the next glimpse?

Astarion could feel his sanity slipping away as he pleaded, Stop this, I beg you! I will do anything but please get me the fuck out of here!

And finally, the vision stopped.

Note: Oof, if it isn't the consequences of my own actions, hard torturous version. I promise next chapters will be lighter than this one. Also, I think I have left my Astarion traumatized (even more). LMK if you want to be added to a taglist :)

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#astarion ancunin #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 #bg3 fanfic prompt #bg3 tav #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #baldurs gate fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 #astarion baldurs gate #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #fanfic #astarion x you

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appleblueberry-pie · 3 months

Note

Please 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 do a yandere miles morales scenario if reader runs away from him

Pain Isn't Strong Enough

A/n: I'll get as close as I possibly can to "running" away as I can. If nearly spinting almost counts, then absolutely.

Miles didn't know what went wrong. You two were fine with each other the entire time. You often came over to eat dinner. Paid attention to his jokes. You made jokes back. You seemed comfortable when you came over to his place, and vice-versa seemed comfortable when he pulled up at yours. You stole hoodies from him like he wished for you to do. You often texted and called, and everything. You two had great communication skills, the whole fucking nine. So why....? Why are you not...being you??

He knew something was up when you gave him weird strained smiles all throughout the school day. Only would greet back when you two ran into each other again during passing period, and never said anything past that, especially when you two had physics together. He spoke the whole time. You best understand that he definitely checked up on you. Multiple times.

"...baby, are you okay? You've been kind of....kind of quiet lately. Did you eat? How'd you sleep last night?" "I'm fine. Nothing's wrong. I'm good." You'd say, nodding at him. He'd stare at you for a few seconds. Waiting for your face to crack or anything. But nothing. So he let it go for now.

At the end of the day, he offered to walk you home. He asked every single time you two walked back to your place, and you always told him to stop asking since you both always would go, no matter what happened. "Lemme you home, ma." He mutters it softly like every other time. "No." Miles stopped in his tracks and snapped his head toward you. "No?" He nearly shouts it. The confusion he felt was embedded deep into his voice when he repeated that word. The fact that you felt, he assumed, uncomfortable enough to openly decline him walking you home just rubbed him the wrong way entirely.

But he didn't mean to respond so abruptly. He collected himself as soon as he said it to not alarm you. He gives you a concerned stare, making sure to watch your eyes. "You sure?" He steps closer to you, getting rid of the space that he felt like was separating the two of you. "Yeah. I just want to go home." You made up some phony excuse to get him off of your back, but of course, it didn't work. "Then let me take you." "I just said no. Is it wrong that I don't want you to come with me this time?" You slip on your wording, wanting it to sound nicer to not be suspicious. And it just left Miles with more questions.

The undertones on your phrasing made him frown. He stays silent and you regret opening your mouth for every second he doesn't respond. You avoid his gaze, staring down your designated block. "No. Go 'head. My mom prolly need help with the chores anyway. I'll see you later, Mi Corazon." He softly whispers the nickname to you, pecking your cheek. You cheese every time he does it. Giving that laugh he loves and saying that you love him back. Now, you don't even flinch, not meeting his gaze once. "Hm." And you walk off.

His initial thought was that you're cheating. But he would know. So, he lets his heart and bones ache for the rest of the day as he waits for you to talk to him. He lets his mom bother him about where her "step-daughter" is and tries to stay chill the entire time he does his homework. His mind was loud and quiet at the same time. He couldn't seem to focus on one thing at a time until he knew the two of you were good. But he didn't want to press you, he didn't want to stress you out. He wanted you to take your time in reaching out to him. So, he stays patient.

By 9 o'clock, he was done with all possible things he could've done to pass the time. Did the laundry, made dinner, cleaned his mom's car, spoke with a neighbor, he even fixed the fucked up cable wires that had been preventing everyone from watching TV this past week. And it was until then, that Miles finally gets a text message from you. He was practically staring at his phone as if he knew you would answer and immediately swiped it off of his desk to see what you finally said. But nothing in the world could've prepared him for what he saw on his screen and he felt his heart drop as he read the message.

Baby - [Are you the prowler?]

He was ready. He was ready for any response you could've given him. I need space, I'm sorry, how are you, what are you doing, can you come over, hey, i miss you, i love you, fuck you, don't talk to me ever again, lose my number. "Is he the prowler"?? Is that what he's seeing on his screen right now?? Miles firmly believes he's hallucinating that message you sent, but the other ones above it that he had read a million times over are still the same, so it has to be real. Miles thinks of all of the hiding places for his gear, his other computer, his hidden weapons, his other bunch of keys, the paperwork for the deals he made, fuck, he couldn't think of what you possibly could've found that made you draw that conclusion. He cursed aloud and watched his hands begin to shake.

It wasn't the end. You wouldn't end the relationship over something as small as this, right? I mean, he would never hurt you, he knew that you knew this. But on the inside, he knew that this was the end of something. And he didn't know if he wanted to know what. Another message came up. You knew he saw it.

Baby - [Answer me.]

Miles - [I'm coming over.]

Baby - [No, don't.]

He shoved his phone into his pocket and rushed to put on a jacket and some shoes. Sneaking out to the fire escape, he rushed down to the street to speed walk over to your place.

You were scared. You didn't want to admit it to yourself, but in the back of your mind, you knew the truth and just couldn't help but feel real fear in your heart. He really was the prowler. You saw everything. That hyper-realistic metal mask you found under his pillow, it couldn't be for just nothing. For fucks sake, it even had the same holographic colors and shape. You found the claws and couldn't bring yourself to see anymore than you already did. And what made it worse is that when you spent the night the same time that you found his gear, he snuck out of the bed....not returning until the early hours of the morning. It made you sick to your stomach.

He was supposed to just be your boyfriend. Not a killer and a fucking robber and whatever else he was. Secrets as big as these just made you question everything else about the relationship you two had. What if he also had bitches on the side? What if you weren't the only one? What if he was using you? Would he......would he kill you...? You were gonna vomit.

Your body felt numb as you put on his hoodie and a pair of shoes he had gifted you. Everything that reminded you of him, you couldn't get rid of. You love him too much. The more you try to shove him away, the more he surrounds your everyday life and mind. And now he was going to find you. You weren't ready to talk at all.

You turned off your location on your phone and left. Maybe you can stay at one of your girl's houses tonight. But she lives in the direction of Miles's place, and you'd probably run into him on the way there. Maybe your cousin that lives like 30 minutes away? It's dark and....the walk would be so fucking dangerous, but it's safer than literally talking with a killer who you slept in the same bed with who-knows-how-many times. What were you going to tell your mom? Your family? His family?? Did his family know? How can you break up with him without causing an uprise? It almost seemed impossible because everyone loved you two being together. And the ones that hated it wanted it more than the two of you did. Too many people had hope in your relationship, it was horrible. It shouldn't have come to this. Maybe you should've just minded your own business.

You round one, two corners. It's dead silent and there's no one on the streets, which somehow feels worse than actual people being there stalking the streets. You hate that you can hear your own heartbeat and breath. On your third corner, you crash into a chest and rough hands grab you before you can fall. "No! No, get off of me!" You thrash in his arms and he seems to almost yell in your face. "Y/n, can you calm down? What the hell is you screaming for??"

"You know why I'm screaming at you, nigga!" "No, I don't I actually don't. So instead of running from me, can you talk to me?" You huff and go silent, pulling yourself out of his grasp to try and breathe. Miles's face falls when he sees how stressed you look. Your veins almost seemed to pop out of your neck. Did you really not want him there? He didn't know what to do. "Please, cariño, I just want to understand..."

You didn't want to start the waterworks and looked up to keep tears from falling down your face. You struggle to croak out the words, gesturing to help yourself cope. "The stuff...t-the stuff under your pillows and bed." Miles looks off to the side. "What is that stuff you got, Miles?" Suddenly it was quiet again. He didn't want to tell you. You didn't want it to be true. Why wasn't he denying it? Why wasn't he hugging you and telling you it was all fake? A science class experiment? Something? Anything but this?? He looks back at you and gains the courage to step closer, bringing a hand up to wipe away your hot tears on your face, like he promised he'd always do for you. He shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about, baby."

You just seemed to cry harder at his words and pulled his hand from your face. Your throat was beginning to close up, the truth showing in what wasn't said. "I hate when you lie to me. I know you know that I hate when you lie to me. Don't lie....don't lie.." Miles wanted you in his arms again, not far away, distancing the two of you in your mind like he knows you're doing. You're great at disappearing when feeling stressed, but to leave him alone? He doesn't think he can take that. He gave his heart to very few people in his life, and somehow it can never fix his problems. His mom's stressed, Aaron wants more from him, and his Dad.... You're the only one that's given him what he didn't know he needed. You're his salvation. And for you to slip out of his fingers is something he can't allow. His only option left is to tell the truth that he has been hiding for so long.

"I am." You sniffle and wipe your eyes. He can't seem to look at them, instead he stares at the necklace he gifted you when you first got together. Knowing that you kept it on was all he needed to keep speaking. "I am the Prowler."

Your face shifts from sadness into one of frustration as he explains. "I've been the Prowler for 2 years now. I go out almost every night. It helps my mama pay the bills, it keeps Brooklyn safe, and it keeps my close family safe as well. I don't do this for nothing." He whispers the words so quietly, as if he was whispering a taboo to you. Never slipped out of his lips before until this one moment with you. You turn your face the other direction. Miles watches you clench your jaw and rushes to take your hands into his, kissing them lightly.

"And I know that's a long time. And I know I was hiding it from you, baby. Pero tienes que confiar en mí. You're on my mind every single night when I'm out. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I couldn't come back to you one night because I wasn't careful. So I stay careful."(But you have to trust me)

Both of his knees hit the hard concrete as he stares up into your glossy eyes, not daring to look away. "You can do anything, anything to me. I don't care. You can beat me the fuck up, mami. But, por favor, no me dejes. I need you! I need you to live, baby. I can't be without you. I don't wanna see you walk away from me. Please." (Please, don't leave me)

Miles whispered the words only for you to hear. All you wanted was that apology and you wished to give in so bad. You wanted him to stay. Miles stood when you looked the other way to catch your eyes again. "Just let me walk you home, mi vida, and we can talk about this in the morning, okay? Or even tonight, if you want to. Just don't give up on me, not like this." Miles's heart was racing a mile a minute. He really didn't know if he could convince you in this moment. Your face seemed to be stone cold. But when he grabbed your hand, you seemed to tighten your fingers around his. His eyes told you what his mouth couldn't say. And by communicating through silence, you let him pull you in the direction of your home.(My dear)

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electrosair · 11 months

Text

Husband & dad headcanons dendro + pyro ver.

english isn’t my first language, sorry for mistakes

characters: al haitham + baizhu + kaveh + tighnari + diluc + thoma

tw: there's a headcanon in which the reader is pregnant, but the rest of it is completely neutral. you can skip that one if you want and imagine something else like adopting.

word count: 1.6k

Al haitham

how does he propose to you?

As much as he 'hates' Kaveh, he would ask him for help with this. And Kaveh being as original as he is would tell him to take you to all the important places you were together and then ask you in the highest area of Sumeru City. You can thank him.

where is the wedding taking place?

I have two options, the small island of Port Ormos or The Palace of Alcazaray. They are too beautiful locations not to use at a moment like this.

where are you going on your honeymoon?

My head tells me he's the kind of guy who wants to spend your entire honeymoon with you in restaurants and at the Liyue library. Take advantage of this and go right when the Lantern Rite Festival is taking place.

children before or after marriage?

Afterwards for sure. He would want to wait to have more time for you and his children, plus have a house just for you and not have to share one with Kaveh.

how many children does he want?

Maybe 2, but quite a few years apart I would venture to say. He would be busy enough to have multiple at the same time. "Let's get some rest for a while, those nine months and the ones we have left are already taken."

how is he during your pregnancy?

He definitely takes you to fancy restaurants and out for walks whenever he can, still being the cool guy and being able to show everyone how happy he is also with his favorite person and his future baby is a yes for him.

any memorable moment with his child?

Returning home after being outside and finding Al haitham with your child sitting on his lap and pointing out the words to him as he softly pronounces them for your baby to repeat after him.

Baizhu

how does he propose to you?

He would ask you to stay in the store during that day while he prepares everything to propose to you. A path with your favorite flowers when you leave the pharmacy and a smiling Baizhu waiting for you.

where is the wedding taking place?

On the outskirts of Qingce Village. I don't know your opinion about the scenery there, but it's beautiful, the area full of bamboo and the high mountain next to it. Any of the sites will do for him.

where are you going on your honeymoon?

Sumeru, I accept no other option. Maybe Spinedragon. But surely he would go to Sumeru with you to enjoy the new greener landscapes and he would learn a lot on the trip.

children before or after marriage?

He wouldn't care, if you have them before then it's fine with him, and if you'd rather wait until you're married Baizhu will be okay with that too.

how many children does he want?

Considering the relationship he has with Qiqi and how he cares for her, treating her like his own daughter, I feel the more the better. He is definitely good with children.

how is he during your pregnancy?

He knows exactly how to react to your every complaint, whether it's pain, emotional or a simple craving you have. He would do checkups on you and the baby from home. "Take a deep breath, I want to see if we can hear the baby's little heart now."

any memorable moment with his child?

He would make the child believe that he is drinking candy or some juice while giving him the medicine and maybe from time to time he would do it with you too. But just until the child would realize it and refuse to take it or tell you that it was medication.

Kaveh

how does he propose to you?

Kaveh would design a building for a 'client' but in reality it's just an excuse to take you there when it's already built and ask you in the most beautiful room, clear water fountains and plants around the vividly colored walls.

where is the wedding taking place?

In Sumeru City it is the first choice. After the wedding he would like to have a small celebration at Lambad's Tavern with his favorite people as a thank you for going to the ceremony and to spend more time with you in your wedding attire. To him you look gorgeous.

where are you going on your honeymoon?

Tell him a place, he will take you there. He will let you choose since he chose the wedding venue. He will be happy to see the different architecture and enjoy spoiling you during the whole trip.

children before or after marriage?

As much as he wants to have children with you, I think he also wants to spend as much time with you as possible, so he would prefer them later. "Can we wait a little longer? I still want us to remain each other's priority."

how many children does he want?

I can imagine him being a father of 2 babies. He would give them both all the love in the world, and they would probably end up spoiled because we already know Kaveh.

how is he during your pregnancy?

You would also be spoiled by him, buying you new clothes every time your belly grew. And of course giving you whatever treats you wanted.

any memorable moment with his child?

He would buy so many clothes when you didn't have the baby in your hands yet. You would end up with clothes that wouldn't even fit on the baby. Your children would be dressed in huge clothes because they saw them in the closet and liked them too much.

Tighnari

how does he propose to you?

I'm sure he'll take you on a walk through the rainforest, showing you plants and bird species you didn't know about and following a different route than the one you normally take so you'll be taken by surprise. I imagine a flower opening and the ring inside.

where is the wedding taking place?

At the Pardis Dhyai. Tighnari likes that place so much that I can't imagine you getting married anywhere else. He is always there when he is not at the villa and the greenhouse is beautiful.

where are you going on your honeymoon?

You may go to the desert for a few days, most likely to the oases to refresh yourselves. Then you would go to another destination, maybe he wants to go back to Mondstadt or take the opportunity of the opening of Inazuma's borders to visit it with you.

children before or after marriage?

My instinct tells me you would have them before. Maybe because I can't picture Tighnari getting married so early, you know how he is, challenging the academy and in the process also the rest of humanity.

how many children does he want?

Sorry about this but according to my google researches I'm forced to say 2 to 5. Army of mini foxes all over your house? Yes.

how is he during your pregnancy?

Home remedies with herbs that he knows will relieve any pain and colic. Mostly super protective of you when he knows that in addition to you he is taking care of your children at the same time. "Are you in pain? Come, let me massage you with this, I promise it will relieve it."

any memorable moment with his child?

He would show them every poisonous plant in the surroundings so they wouldn't go near any of them. I can also imagine him helping the older ones with the bow.

Diluc

how does he propose to you?

He will probably give you little hints for a month until finally proposing marriage, straight and blunt that time. There would be no middle ground, either he asks you after a romantic dinner or he asks you one quiet day when you go to see him at the tavern.

where is the wedding taking place?

At the Dawn Winery for sure. Have you seen how beautiful it is on the outside? I can just imagine a wedding arch between all the vineyards and a big walkway made of wooden planks so you don't stain your wedding clothes.

where are you going on your honeymoon?

Literally anywhere you want, he has enough money left over to even take you to each of the nations for a week and spend more than a month on this trip.

children before or after marriage?

Probably after the wedding, he would want to have everything secured before finally having children with you.

how many children does he want?

Between 1 and 2 the perfect amount for him, 1 better than 2 if you ask him. But if you want a lot I would say 3 is all he can give you (and bear).

how is he during your pregnancy?

He would always keep an eye on you just in case you do something he considers bad for you or the baby. Normally he would give you a lot of freedom but if he feels it like necessary he will entrust one of the maids to take care of you.

any memorable moment with his child?

The day he caught your 3-year-old child about to drink a bottle of wine he had reserved for you and him. You certainly never saw another bottle in some unlocked place again. "Dear, are you finished with that? I'm going to put it back in the cabinet."

Thoma

how does he propose to you?

He would ask Ayaka or Ayato for help, all super planned and probably on some important Inazuma holiday or on some important date in your relationship. At night and with a romantic atmosphere, he would get down on one knee 100%.

where is the wedding taking place?

Thoma is originally from mondstadt so I like to imagine that he would take you there for the ceremony and meet his family.

where are you going on your honeymoon?

Mondstadt, Mondstadt, Mondstadt. He would stay there with you and even introduce you to cousins he didn't even know he had. He would probably take you to see everything, Dragonspine included.

children before or after marriage?

I feel like he would prefer to have them after the wedding but really wouldn't mind if for whatever reason it ends up being before.

how many children does he want?

He would take your opinion very seriously, but have you seen him? I mean, at the very least he would want 3, maximum he doesn't have (my best friend told me that up to 30-).

how is he during your pregnancy?

If he normally does all the household chores, while you are pregnant with his children he won't let you touch even a simple mop. "You're already busy taking care of our baby 24 hours a day, leave the rest to me."

any memorable moment with his child?

The whole family got into the kitchen, your children wearing little chef's hats and aprons while Thoma gave them instructions on how to make 'the best surprise birthday cake for mommy/daddy/term you use'.

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

Note

AITA for refusing to stop having gay sex in my room?

I'm a gay man currently living in college residence. With the way the dorms are designed, it's two separate rooms and a middle "common room" with a little kitchenette and a washroom. The walls are pretty thin and you can generally hear everything. Which means I can always hear my (very straight) roommate having mediocre sex with his girlfriend when I'm trying to study for my law/ethics final.

My boyfriend lives in my hometown (Not my current city) and is physically disabled with a fulltime caretaker. The only time we get any time alone is when we're in my room together hanging out so it isn't often that we get to... mess around. He comes to my city every few months or so because he plays professional basketball at a provincial level and my city hosts the tournaments (Guys he's so fucking cool eugh~ I love him).

Anyways with the background info out of the way, onto the point.

My roommate recently told me that he felt uncomfortable with my boyfriend and I having sex in the room. I apologized and said I didn't think he could hear us (We're both very quiet). He said he couldn't but he can always tell afterwards because we both look a certain way. I asked if his girlfriend was going to stop 'coming over' and he said no.

I kind of had my suspicions about him being homophobic and this was just confirming them for me. I asked him why it was okay for them to fuck but not my boyfriend and I and he just said 'that's different'. I kept pressing him to explain how it's different and he just said that he's not comfortable with it.

He then compared it to me asking him not to throw up in the kitchen trash can (He drinks and is too lazy to go to the washroom. I have trauma that has made me severely emetophobic). I kind of backed up slightly because I figured maybe it was just hearing sex in general that triggered him and I apologized and said I didn't realize it was a trauma thing. He said it wasn't and I asked him to explain and he just said that he found it gross when we (My boyfriend and I) did it.

I asked if it was because we were both men and he started getting upset and a bit aggressive (Yelling, waving his hands around, getting closer to me). He kept repeating that he didn't want to say it (Whatever 'it' was) and that I was making him look like an asshole.

At that point I decided to leave for a walk, both to calm down and to get some space from this guy since I am the tiniest twink you'll ever mean and he's like 6'5" or some shit. Before I left I told him that until he gives me a good reason that my boyfriend and I aren't allowed to have sex or until he stops fucking his girlfriend and screaming for the entire floor to hear when he's coming, I was going to keep plowing my boyfriend as much as I fucking wanted. When I left, I heard something slamming in the dorm.

This was a couple days ago and I haven't seen him since but I've heard him out and about while I was in my room. So far everything is quiet but his girlfriend literally JUST walked in ten minutes ago so we'll see where this goes.

I may be the asshole because I kept pushing him and was being a bit crass with the way I discussed things. Also just refusing something that made him uncomfortable. On the other hand, I don't see why I shouldn't be allowed the same freedoms in my own living space and I'm 99% sure this is because of homophobia since there have been other hints at it. My boyfriend and I are arguably more considerate since we mess around far less frequently and we do it much more quietly.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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juuuulez · 4 months

Text

📰 | part thirteen: capulet.

info: Carl Grimes x Saviour! Reader, no pronouns/no use of (y/n), FINAL CHAPTER, canon divergence (i rewrote the ‘wrath’ episode), non-descriptive violence, blood.

summary: The Saviour-Alexandria war comes to a close in one, final battle.

guys i just wanted to say thank you all SO MUCH for loving this story, because it’s truly my favourite thing i’ve ever written….these two mean the world to me and i’m so glad everyone understands my vision

i actually loved writing this chapter, and i think the ending is really appropriate to the themes and nature of their relationship

i’ll publish an epilogue next, which will be the 6-year timeskip, and just wrap things up nicely so you know what the future held for carl and reader :,)

-> masterlist <-

Truthfully, you were a little nervous. It had taken a week for these negotiations to settle, and you were worried as to what state the Saviours were in. You hoped that Negan was doing alright. Strangely enough, you’d never been away from him for this long, not since getting stuck together all those years ago.

A meeting spot was decided, though everyone was still wary. You’d been cuffed again for safety, and carefully transported alongside Rick, Carl and Michonne. They kept a close eye on you, wanting to ensure that nothing went haywire at the last minute.

It was a large clearing, a small grassy hill with an oak tree. Hanging from a branch was a beautiful stained glass panel, the intricate design having become slightly rusty with time and lack of care.

As you stepped from the car, the adults left your side, trusting you in Carl’s watch for now. He held onto your forearm, walking a few paces behind everyone else, allowing you to gain your bearings.

But something didn’t feel right.

“Carl,” You whispered, garnering his attention. “I don’t.. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

There was a look of worry on your face, one that made Carl’s heart break a little, wanting to assure you that everything is okay, though he didn’t know if that was true. He knew how risky this plan was: a plan that he couldn’t tell you, for you’d absolutely loose it.

“It’ll be okay.” He ends up saying, giving you a small squeeze and continuing to usher you forward.

It wouldn’t. Not for the Saviours, at least.

Fortunately for them, Eugene was still on their side. He’d expressed how the Saviours intended on sabotaging the deal, in hopes of taking power and taking you. This awareness led Eugene to rig the bullets with an explosive mechanism.

Carl had been uncomfortable to hear it at first, but knew that it was necessary in defending their stance. He couldn’t tell you. There wouldn’t be a single universe in which you’d hear him out, and see their side of the argument.

Yet, he understood. If someone was threatening his father’s life, he’d react similarly. So, Carl kept his mouth shut.

As you approached the hill, the Saviours became visible, and it seemed Negan had certainly brought backup. You could identify a few of them as Simon’s men, and wondered how loyal they’d been since his death. Or… murder, you suppose.

The more you focused, the more you realised the sheer amount of guns they’d brought. All standing defensively, weapons at the ready. It started to settle in, and you remembered your long history with the Saviours. They didn’t do things peacefully. They didn’t take deals, there was no such thing as compromise.

“Carl, Carl, I’m serious,” You urged him, suddenly stopping in your spot, causing Carl to stop with you. “This isn’t right. They’re gonna fire, I know they are. We have to—“

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Carl interrupted, trying to calm you. “Trust me, okay? I know. And it’s alright.”

Something about that sent off an alarm in your head, a look of confusion crossing your face. You stared at Carl, eyes darting back to the others, then to him.

“You know?” You repeat, “What do you mean? Carl, they’re gonna shoot you, shoot everyone here. This is bad.”

The more you spoke, the more you seemed to panic, so Carl tried to quiet your tangent with a hand over your mouth. It worked, and had this been another situation, you would have laughed at the irony.

His hand doesn’t move, looking subtly nervous despite trying to calm you down. “You need to listen to me, okay? Just breathe, and—“

Whatever he was suggesting doesn’t matter, as suddenly there is crackling in the distance, loud pops as the Saviours attempt to discharge their weapons. Several guns break down into pieces, flames overtaking their inner workings as the mechanisms shut down and killing several of their owners. Those who survived were injured, their hands crippled and burnt.

You’d cover your ears to protect from the noise, if not for the handcuffs, but Carl seems to have a similar idea. He’s looking around, looking for something, before he pulls you down against the grassy hill, trying to duck and shield your body from something unknown.

“Carl!” You yell over the gunfire, “What the fuck is happening!”

Finally identifying a group of Oceansiders in the distance, Carl cups his hand over your ear, the one uninjured and still intact. You try to squirm away, but to no avail, confused and freaking out, unsure whether his hold was supposed to be comforting or threatening.

As you realised what was happening, it was too late to do anything. Molotov cocktails were used to alight the remaining of Negan’s army, the alcohol splashing at their feet and soaking into the grassy hill, spreading with reckless abandon.

“No! You asshole!” You scream, jerking your head away from Carl and trying to find your bearings. But being handcuffed, and your current lack of balance since the injury, you just end up falling back against the dirt.

“Hey! Listen to me,” Carl interrupts your protests sternly. He clasps his hands on either side of your face, keeping you still despite your attempts at moving away. “It’s over, okay? This is it. It’s done.”

You’re panting, looking practically feral, sweat beading on your brow and skin. Dirt is in your hair, stuck to your bandage, marred over the flannel you still wear. Carl’s flannel. Instinctively, you want to bite his hands, to do anything to get away.

But after everything, you know better. There’s nothing you could do to change this. Whether it be him, or you, someone had to face the music. Someone had to loose.

“Uncuff me.” You demand, chest rising heavily with each breath you suck in, still lying flat against the grass while Carl leans over your form.

He shakes his head, “I can’t do that. Not until we get back to Alexandria. You’ll get a house, your own place, and—“

You interrupt him with a scream, “Uncuff me!”

Though your pleas don’t work, Carl pulls your body up against him, trying to get you into a seated position. If you had control, you’d probably be able to hold yourself up, yet you remain helpless to his control.

“I don’t have the key.” He finally reveals, holding you up by your arms, unconsciously rubbing away some of the dirt that’s stuck there. “Even if I did, we have to wait, alright? I’m on your side, I promise.”

You’re on the brink of agreeing, of finally calming yourself, of accepting that this really is the end. Even your head begins to nod, a small motion, still looking a little breathless and confused.

Meanwhile, the battle isn’t entirely over. The remaining Saviours had seemingly submitted, abandoning any semblance of control under the promise that they would live, if they left for good.

You catch the end of that speech, confusion flooding your featured as they’re commanded to leave. The pair of you still sit in the grass, away from the main commotion.

Carl must have similarly picked up on the sudden shift in tension, his mind finally catching up with everything happening.

The realisation clicks instantly: if the Saviours are disbanding, they had no leader.

At the same time, you’re trying to stand once more. “No, no! Let go of me!” You scream, jerking yourself away from Carl even when he tries to help you up. You only make it a few steps before lack of coordination hits, and despite your hostility, Carl wraps his arms around you in assistance.

Carefully, he helps you over the hill, standing right on the crest. From here, the two of you can see everything. His breath caught in his chest as he realised that Rick had been shot, though he stalled himself from doing anything, understanding there was a much more dire situation at hand.

Everyone stood in awe as Negan essentially choked on his own blood, the liquid seeping from a slice in this throat, no doubt a critical wound. Rick stood above him, hands soaked red, dropping the shard of glass he’d used as a weapon.

It felt like there was no more air in your chest. Like you’d been thrown into space, the oxygen sucked from your form. You stood there dumbly, watching, mouth open but nothing came out. Next to you, Carl was saying something, but you couldn’t hear him.

You couldn’t hear when Rick ordered for Negan to be saved.

Nor could you hear Maggie’s shrill screams, begging and accusing Rick of betraying her.

Everything sort of just stopped moving. All of the noise had stopped, leaving this deafening silence and overwhelming feeling of pure emptiness.

Whatever happened after that didn’t sink in. Somebody had spoken to you, but you weren’t listening, nor did you have any clue where they’d taken Negan. Or where they’d take you. It was likely that you were told, but it didn’t stick.

The entire time, Carl was by your side. After getting into the car, he slid in next to you, a small metal ringlet in his hands. He unlocked the handcuffs from behind you, however had been instructed to cuff you once more from the front, shooting you a sympathetic look as he did so. At least now, he could hold your hand, which he did for the whole trip.

It was mildly comforting, some place in the back of your mind appreciating the gesture, despite the numbness that had worked itself into every corner of your body.

Eventually, you’d arrived at Alexandria. They took you towards the back of the community, to a house standing far from the others. It had been emptied of any objects that could be deemed weaponry, and was fairly bare-bones, but contained the minimum for survival. It was the first time you noticed Carl wasn’t around, a notion that allowed your senses to return slightly, offput by the sudden seclusion.

You allowed yourself to explore the area, opening each drawer only to find them all empty. The windows were barred, the door locked, leaving the house to feel more like a prison than a home.

Unsure what to do, you sat down on the couch, facing the door. It was comfortable. You poked at the fabric with your fingertips, trying to gain your bearings and come back to a place of consciousness, but everything still felt fuzzy and far away. Like you just couldn’t reach reality.

Hours past, though you weren’t too focused on the time. The only way of telling was when the sun had lowered, shadows being cast through the partially obscured windows. You hadn’t turned the light on earlier, causing the room to just become darker and darker, as you had no intention of getting up.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door unlocked with a distinct click, before creaking open. You hoped that Negan would walk in, that he’d be alright and he’d hug you and say you’re going back to the Sanctuary. Together. But that was wishful thinking.

Though when Carl entered the house, you didn’t have the energy to be angry. You probably should have been.

“It’s dark, isn’t it?” He comments, having instantly spotted you sitting on the couch. When he doesn’t get a reply, Carl knows that small-talk won’t cut it, that he’s messed up.

So, he comes over, sitting next to you on the couch. In another life, you would have probably punched him. Screamed and accused him of lying to you. But you couldn’t be that person anymore.

When he wraps an arm around your side, you don’t protest, allowing Carl to pull you against him. You’ve finally begun to realise just how tired you are, as you rest your head down on his shoulder, tucked nicely into his side.

“He’ll live,” Carl whispers, “And they’re gonna keep him in a cell. I dunno how long… but probably a long time.”

You give a small nod, just to acknowledge that you’re listening. It makes sense. As long as Negan was alright, that they’d help him get better, then you could deal with the rest later.

“Can I see him?” You ask, voice coming out a quiet whisper. They’re the first words you’ve uttered since everything went down.

Carl feels guilty for his answer. He wasn’t even supposed to be here, with you. “No. Not for a while. Someone’s gonna come here, live in this house, just to keep an eye on you,” He has to swallow to clear his throat, “And.. it’s gonna be weird, I know, but… you’re here, and that’s all that matters.”

There’s little protesting you can do, not in this state. The shock still hasn’t fully worn off, Carl knows this, so he tries to move away from the heavy conversation.

He shifts on the couch, laying down and pulling you with him. You settle there easily, head resting over his chest, though he’s wary of not putting any pressure on your injury.

“We should get you something to eat.” He suggests quietly, brushing back some hair so he can see your face.

You shake your head, not having much of an appetite anymore. “Can we just stay here?” You whispered, lifting your head slightly to look at him.

Carl feels himself getting choked up again. He doesn’t quite know why, as he’s glad that this is over, that Negan will be confined to a cell, unable to harm anyone. This was the best-case scenario for his community.

But he knows, in another life, this could have ended badly. That he shouldn’t have been so lucky as to survive. The idea hurts, a deep ache in his chest, though he tries to keep the emotion out of his face.

“I’m just glad that I’ve got you.” Carl ends up whispering, the words slightly vague and confusing, but they mean everything they need to mean.

For Carl does, quite literally, have you in his arms. It didn’t matter where your relationship stood, or all your differences, for he had you.

You seem to realise this, a smile finally making its way onto your face. “Dork.” You mumble, the slight jab helping Carl to smile as well.

That numbness fades, as you lift yourself up a little, hovering over his body as your lips connect in a kiss. It’s the first one since weeks ago, after your fight in the alleyway.

This time, it’s softer, and Carl places one hand on your hip and the other to the back of your neck. Your breathing slows to match his own, lips moving together in an almost tired manner whilst your fingertips stroke the sides of his face.

Tomorrow will likely be difficult, as will the next day, and the next. But right now, things felt alright.

That night, you fell asleep on top of Carl, the pair of you tangled on the couch. You’d wake up to his voice in your ear and lips against your cheek, and though neither of you knew it then, you’d spend many, many more mornings together.

Eventually, the noise would fade, and you’d find some sense of peace in Alexandria with Carl. Years from then, you’d even help Negan find his peace, too.

Life would never be easy, but it certainly felt a little better with each day. That was enough.

#carl grimes x reader #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #carl grimes #twd x you #carl grimes x you #negan smith x reader #the walking dead #carl grimes x y/n

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