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sukunas-wife · 3 months

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the Dadkuna series is great!!! Sukuna isn’t my main character that I like in jjk but this series has me SAT and WAITING for the next upload! I’ve always wondered though what momkuna and dadkuna’s relationship dynamic is. We get that sort of in how they met but what about when their relationship is established? I get the sense that obviously dadkuna would quite literally do anything for her but what exactly goes through his mind when he thinks about her?

Oh? Guess whose back 😎🤧

Me- I’m sickly too 🤭 but! The blog is picking up 🥺 and I’ve been working on this for a good time so here you go 🤍🤍🤍

(Indentions are thoughts, things he didn’t actively say out loud 🥺🤍)

Lord Ryomen Sukuna, though emotionally stunted and constipated, loves his wife. Would level cities and kill men easily if she didn’t have such a strong hold in him.

But he’s a misogynist at heart to an extent. He wants you at home with his kids being his cute little wife that he knows he can always come home to. It was your overwhelming passion for helping women who couldn’t bear children that convinced him he could let you live your life, as long as he knew he had people there to look over you when he couldn’t.

He appreciates the fact that when he’s tired, covered in blood that’s not his own, and carrying the exhaustion of his war ridden day, there you are rushing to him when he enters his temple. Disregarding your fine silk robes and the blood partly way on his body. The way you cling to him, always so happy and relieved to see him come home.

The first time he came home after being gone for so long, he remembers how you cried and held on to him, your anguished filled cries when you cried about how you thought he was never coming back, how you were scared he’d left you alone. He remembers how his hands found your waits holding you a bit away, another hand coming to cup your face, thumb wiping away your tears when he looked at you with tired eyes, “It would take the militia of this land's greatest sorcerers to even consider preventing my way back to your embrace.” Your teary eyes softened before you buried your face in his chest again hugging him and clinging to him.

He longed for that feeling of your embrace whenever he would leave you behind, he could deny it but on his way home to you, his heart ached and longed to feel your embrace and hear your praises of how he had returned. You cried no more because you were filled with that confidence he would always return.

——————

He’s a traditional man with his one form of values, not once did he long for sexual pleasure or was he consumed with lust. Misery, pain and the screams of his victims fueled him and filled him with an immense pleasure no woman’s body could ever possibly offer him.

They were all the same, sultry, scandalous, attention seeking harlots, prostitutes and women. Thinking they could better their lives if they could slip into his bed. They were wrong, every woman who he allowed to enter his bed chamber under these pretences had walked in with starry eyes and ambition. Only to cry and scream for their life while he slowly dug his nails into their flesh tearing them all apart, slowly and agonisingly. That was until he saw you that one day, any girl of age would’ve started to present themselves to him in shy or subtle ways hoping to catch his eyes. There you were kneeling out of respect in his presence, scared you had offended your lord.

‘Oh? Is this little morsel afraid?’ Fear filled and humbling yourself before him. You couldn’t look at him, there wasn’t an ounce of “I want to sleep with this man.” And yet these feelings caused a sentiment in the depths of his chest, something stirred inside him, you head captured his interest (non sexual at this point). ‘Hmm?, this will be a fine pet to break.’

You were a phenomenon in the temple, one he wanted to study, to take into his clawed hands and mould, twist, stretch and push to the edge and then just over the point of breaking to see what would become of you. Yet, once he had you in hands reach, once you were close enough for him to graze your skin with his nails… he didn’t treat you like a common daisy or water Lilly, no he took you into his hands like a Lotus floating on the water's surface. Making elegant work and taking care of your delicate bloom. You would be his delicate lotus that no one else would ever take the joy in having.

——————

“My gratifying queen, My delicate lotus, My benevolent wife.” Words he doesn’t speak so freely, he whispers them against your skin whenever you’d sleep by his side.

Delicate words and honeyed names had never once crossed his mind in his existence. Yet here he was, allowing himself to indulge in the smallest amount of vulnerability with these words. The press of his feverish kisses against your neck and cheeks between every word.

‘My little beloved pet, so tired, sleeping away the wares of today. How could something so small and insignificant like you cause this shift in my existence hm?’

The back of his hand brushing hair away from your face, nails grazing the side of your face lightly, he held you in his embrace watching you. Two arms securely around you, one supporting his head, the other kept grazing your skin. You’d stir in your sleep when he shifted slightly away from you to lay on his back. You’d become so used to his body heat even on the hottest days you’d search him out half awake.

‘My little lotus,’ he closed the space between you, pulling you into his side again, ‘rest your weary head without worries of tomorrow, I’m here to hold you now.’

He wouldn’t admit it, he didn’t even know it at that moment, but he was absolutely smitten with you in ways he had yet to comprehend. But it showed in his subconscious movements. A hand on your lower back or waist guiding you, knowing you’re close and safe.

Bringing home little jewels and trinkets he’d usually never spare a second glance . That is until a stone sparkles in the light of his flames and he stops briefly to take a close look.

My queen would look Devine with these adorning her neck. These stones would make fine pieces for my wife.

It was a shock when he came home one night waking you when he sat on the bed. You sat up sleepily while he handed you a bag of precious stones and jewels telling you he had brought you a gift, a free hand of his brushing your hair back and bringing you closer by the back of your head so he could kiss your lips.

——————

It was your wedding, there you were standing beside him in the Ceremonial Robes. You stood on his right, his eyes looking down at you.

Hmm, What an enticing display, to have my little pet dressed up so exquisitely for all to see and admire.

Even more enticing to know soon you’ll be round with my child, what an ethereal sight you will be laid out in silk robes and swollen carrying my legacy

My delicate little lotus, my malevolent queen, my gratifying and honourable wife. Perhaps these thoughts never be spoken aloud with heavy sentiment. But I vow myself to you in this instant, that I will do all to assure our future, our health, our children and our endless lives.

I will assure your hand never be left cold nor alone as long as I can take it. nor will it ever be lifted in vain or to labour. Your stomach is never empty as I will assure you have the finest wine and a feast every night if it’s what your little human heart desires, your head will always have a place to rest even if it is only on my chest. Your nights will never be cold, your days will never be short, your loneliness will exist no longer, and your heart will be mine, and mine will be yours.

It wasn’t all he told himself, but it was in the moment you felt a warm sensation against your skin, on your chest below the centre of your collar bone but above your breast was the same mark you’d seen on his tongue very few times.

Ryomen Sukuna DID NOT enjoy the thought of staining your teeth black, instead he took your hand, as if vowing and brains you, the ring finger of your left hand, the base faded to a black band, above it a snark mark matching your chest and another thin black bank, just below your nail was another black band. That’s how your little husband decided to present you as his.

Tag List: @sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks

@bofadeezs

@sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @dolliira

Broken :( @simpforyoubitch @domainofmarie @ilovemybabies378 @anyaswlrd @cyder-puff

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huh-i-guess · 1 year

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The Choice

(Miguel O’Hara x Reader)

Summary: Miguel needs your help with the Miles situation.

Warnings: Angst (?) 🛑SPOILERS 🛑 idk if this is fluffy or not -_-

Word Count: 683

“Miggy. I think you are being too hard on him. The kid’s 15 and he's scared. You and I both know what that is like.” You started as you paced through Miguel’s lair.

“He doesn't know what it is like to lose someone- EVERYONE that he loves. He’s a selfish immature kid who doesn't deserve to have his powers. That bite wasn’t even meant for him” He fumed as he slammed his fist onto his desk console.

“Please mi amor. Have some compassion for him. He is a kid.” You pleaded.

“Y/N this isn't just about his dad okay. The world. His world. Ours. The multiverse. Everything could collapse. I can't lose anyone else. I can't lose you.” Miguel drops to his knees in front of you and places his head onto your stomach.

“Cariño there will be nothing left. I have dedicated my whole life to keeping the multiverse safe. I can’t let this anomaly mess it up. It's not just him and his dad. It’s you and me. It’s all of us.” He looked up at you with tears rimming his waterline. He looked at you with a pain that was normally reserved for his memories of his daughter. It pained you to see him like this.

“Miggy… I don’t know what to say. ” You ache. You look down at your partner and feel something that you haven't felt in years. It's uncertainty. The deep gnawing feeling stuck in your chest. You felt like it was wrong to trust your heart. Miguel is a man who has been through a lot in his life. He has always been knowledgeable and understanding. He is the one who has always made the difficult choices but this. This felt like some horrible test that assesses your moral compass. Choose your lover and the universe or a scared, curious kid whose future holds great potential for bad and good, who wants to save his family. This dilemma was one that ripped you apart because at some point in your life, you have been in Miles’ shoes but now you are a grown person who has had the blinders of youth ripped away from you. You have felt fear and loss in your life but never have you expected and anticipated it. To know what Miles knows must be gut wrenching. And that is why you feel what you do. This situation has broken you and what you stand for. It has made you doubt yourself.

“I need to stop him. This has to happen. It's happened to all of us and we are built stronger from it. He’s caused too much damage.” You lifted Miguel from his knees and embraced him in your arms. You tugged at his suit and felt your tears fall from your face. You inhaled deeply and felt the drum of his heartbeat. This man who has fought for you for so many years and loved you deeply. The fear that flooded you at the thought of his heart stopping was enough to shake you. He was right. No matter how wrong it felt to let your love force a child to watch his father die, you knew he was right.

“I need you with me. Please, Cariño. You are one of our strongest and brightest. Stay by my side. Please. I need to know that you will support me.” You knew Miguel would never beg unless he was in desperate need. Looking around and seeing the damage Miles caused to the tower, you felt his desperation was well placed. He removed his clawed gloves and placed his hand on your cheek. You leaned into his warm touch.

“This feels so wrong Miggy. I don't want him to go through this pain. I can't wish that grief onto anyone.” You pleaded as you lifted your head to meet his gaze. He let out a small sigh and brought his lips to yours. His plump warm lips met yours and filled you with a sense of calm.

He placed his forehead against yours and stated with anguish, “It’s our only option.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #my work #miguel x reader #Miguel ohara x reader #spider man 2099

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monimccoythings · 2 months

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Human!Alastor x Daughter!Reader: Devotion

These are all part of the same AU, I suppose, or not. But I like to think they are all part of the same AU, sometimes I forget what I write. Now this are just some deranged feelings and thoughts of Alive!Alastor.

Reminder: Alastor is in hell for a reason.

Tw: obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, mentions of blood, implied murder, manipulation.

tags: @anonymousewrites, @nonetheartist, @littledolly2345, @sunnyx07, @ouroborostheunholy, @mo-0-o, @sydneyyyya @lbcreations-blog

Alastor had never been a sentimental man. Of course he loved his mama, she was a wonderful woman and her death had definitely caused him a great amount of grief.

And then you came along.

Your soft skin, your chubby hands that tried to grasp his larger fingers to no avail, your wide unfocused eyes that darted everywhere, taking notice of everything. How delicate you felt in his arms, you fit perfectly, like you were made to be there.

How easily he could break you, he ponders. One little snap and there would be no more of you. It would be so quick and simple. There was only one little thing.

He adored you.

Your quiet little coos, your incomprehensible babbling that sounded like you were trying to carry an adult conversation with him, the way you squealed with joy whenever one of your favorite songs started playing on the radio. You were delightful, and provided him with more enrichment than any of the bumbling fools he usually associated himself with could provide.

As years passed by, you started to get bigger, your world expanding, your knowledge growing. And with it, came the risk of having you slip away from him.

He had modeled you to be his perfect little angel, his little fawn. His obedient child. He would not allow anyone to take you away from him. He was your guardian, your protector. Some asshole looked at you the wrong way while you two were going on a walk? He was never heard of again. Some low-paid teacher was becoming some sort of role model to you? Ooops! Accidents happen!

He found that his reasoning for protecting you was also a good excuse to indulge in his darkest desires. A way to calm the itch that was always nagging at the back of his head.

Alastor did it for you. He was making the world a safer place for you. No matter how much fun and enjoyment he got out of it. None of those buffoons would ever taint your innocence with their dirty souls. Not even himself.

He would take his secrets to the grave, always hidden behind a wide smile. he would be the good father, the charming radio host, the modelic citizen. The blood in his hands, as delicious as it tasted, would never stain your clothes.

No one would keep you two apart, he would make sure of that. He was all that you could possibly ever need. Your world started and ended with him, as it should be. Let him be the barrier between your purity and the rotten society that lurked outside.

He suffered everytime you were forced to spend time apart of each other. Couldn't you see it? Did you feel it too? Whenever you were in school or he was working, it was complete suffering for him! His fingers drumming impatiently on the surface of the table, counting the seconds until he was back at home with you. Only the mental stimulation that took directing, writing and starrring in his own radio show for which he held great passion and the delightful hunt his side job provided were enough distraction to cope with his sorrow.

When did he become so emotional? He should be feeling embarrassed of himself or at least be very thankful that his mask of sanity wasn't cracking with all those feelings. Instead, he found himself embracing them. He embraced the painful worry about your wellbeing and his influence over you, the obssessive and twisted love he felt, the need for control, to ensure you remained his innocent and good child, and the bitter despair at your absence that sunk into his heart like a knife. Only his little baby could give him such a rush.

He was sure that not even death would be able to take you from his hands. He would personally fight God, the Devil, and anybody who got in his way. Alastor would tear the fabric of reality apart just to get to you.

You would never run away from him. There was no reason to, as he had made you as devoted of him as he was of you. Or at least he hoped so.

Having you leave him would surely break his heart, as it would mean to Alastor that you had chosen to do things the hard way. But maybe, after a very detailed and complex planification on his part and some casualties orchestrated by him, Alastor might be able to convince you to return back home, with a grim reminder about the dangers of the outside world.

For there is no safer place on Earth than in your father's embrace.

#hazbin hotel #x reader #reader #alastor x reader #alastor #tw: obsessive behavior #tw: possessive behavior #tw: controlling behavior #hazbin hotel x reader

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stargazing-imagines · 9 months

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Invisible — Conrad Fisher x Fem!reader

Description: every summer you always join your grandparents at there beach house at cousins beach because of your problems with your mom, but this time… let’s just say you aren’t the only grandchild to come along

Warnings: reader being ignored, mild abuse (just a slap on the face that’s all) hurtful words are said, and bad writing

Fandom: the summer I turned pretty

Requested: no

( Read part two here )

Every summer, your mother would drop you off at your grandparents house so she could have her freedom, but this summer was the one that changed your relationship with your family forever

Your grandparents have decided it would be a great idea for your oldest cousin and her two boys to stay with you guys during the summer because of her nasty divorce.

Of course you were excited about this, but you weren’t as excited with all the attention your cousin have gotten because of this

So this caused you to stay away from your grandparents beach house to hang out at the fishers beach house instead.

“Hey y/n!” Said Steven as he saw you enter the house “trouble at home?”

You looked at Steven before nodding your head, this time things were different.

The oldest son of your cousin was bragging about how he was the better one and talking about having his own insurance for his car when he turned 15, while you were trying to engage in a Conversation, let’s just say that you got talked over.

“Yeah, I needed to get away from the huggy and the wuggy that aiden watches.” You lied as you sat on the couch

“Hey, maybe you can bring Aiden over to play some video games with me and Jere.” Suggested Steven “that is if he wants to.”

“He probably will… is Conrad around?” You asked looking around the house

“H-“

“Y/n! What brings you by?” Asked Susannah as she gave you a hug “oh I heard what happened with your cousin, that’s horrible for her to go through a nasty divorce.”

“Yeah, it’s been pretty rough on her.” You said as you tried to fake a smile

Surely a divorce is awful, but it isn’t the end of the world.

“I remember playing with her when we were kids, she was a life of a party when it comes to parties.”

“Yeah… anyway is Conrad home?” You asked “I really need to speak to him.”

“Yeah, he’s around.”

“Thanks, I’ll just find him.”

With that you left,

After thirty minutes of finding him, you finally find him, so you walked over to him sitting next to him on the sand

“Hey y/n.” Said Conrad

“Hey.” You said with no expression, as you looked down at the sand

“What’s wrong?” Asked Conrad with concern laced in his voice

“My family been ignoring me again.” You said as you crossed your arms on your knees placing your head on your forearms

“Y/n, I hate to see you like this.” Said Conrad “you just need to stick up for yourself.”

“I know but sometimes its just hard ok.” You said as you were on the verge of tears “it doesn’t help when they have been doing it for years.”

After you said that, Conrad’s eyes lit up

“They’ve been ignoring you for years?” Asked Conrad “but… your relationship with your grandparents are great.”

“That’s because they raised me Conrad.” You said “and I get called shit because of it.”

“What do they call you?” Asked Conrad as he placed an arm around you, pulling you into an embrace

“They think I’m spoiled rotten and a burden to my grandparents.”

At this point, Conrad was fuming, just because your mom was a horrible mother doesn’t mean you are an attention seeker.

“I’m sorry, you had to endure that y/n.” Said conrad “if I could take the pain away I would but-“

“Just… hold me.” You said “that’s really what I need right now.”

You came back home and it was midnight, after staying with the fishers and conklins for a few hours, you finally returned home.

You opened the slide door as you carefully shut it not wanting to make a bunch of commotion, you walked further into the house before being stopped by your grandmother

“Y/n, why are you out there this late at night?”

“I was visiting the fishers and the conklins.” You said, slowly turning around

“Your always over there, I think it’s high time that you start staying on house arrest.”

“What so I can listen to Kelly nag and nag about how shitty her life is?” You asked “I don’t want to.”

Your grandmother eyes widen at the language that we’re using

“And you are to not hang around that Conrad fella either.” Said you grandmother “I don’t need you going around saying things like that when there are children in this house.”

At this point you were furious, so you did what you always did, run away from your problem, but that didn’t work because you were grabbed by the arm pulling you back

“Let go of me!” You shouted “your hurting me!” As you tried to free you arm from your grandmothers grasps

“You think I’m hurting you?” Asked your grandmother “this is hurting you, I never seen a girl that is so selfish that all she thinks about is herself!”

With that, you were slapped on the cheek, sending your hand to the sensation of the burn. In shock

“I hate you!” You shouted as you ran upstairs, and with with tears running down your face that. You cried yourself to sleep that night with a red mark on your face

——

Expect a part two of this coming soon!!

The summer I turned pretty masterlist

#the summer i turned pretty #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x you #tsitp conrad #tsitp fic #tsitp imagine

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flowerandblood · 4 months

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The Man with the Pearly Hair

[ Amor • Aemond x Psyche • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, fingering, smut, angst, obsession, symptoms of the disease such as fever and convulsions ]

[ description: After she is attacked in a fair by a strange man and narrowly avoids death, her father the king decides that from now on she will be watched over by one of his ‘ghosts’, a assassin acting on his orders, wearing a black mask. The man follows her like a shadow, accompanied by their past, which keeps her awake at night. Gothic horror love story, angst, sexual tension, verydark Aemond. ]

This story is several requests combined into one: sworn protector x female; Amor x Psyche; Phantom of the Opera! Aemond x female. I took the liberty of creating a completely new story from this, having only elements of each of these requests.

Series & Characters Moodboard Lady Walford Moodboard Gothic & Horror Sensual Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

____

Her husband did not let her experience any peace or rest the night after the ball, informing her that he did not mind if she fell asleep while he was rooting into her sore core. They would fall into sudden, deep slumbers, his arms embracing her tightly.

As soon as he awoke she could hear his murmur of satisfaction caused by her presence and the closeness of her body – his length throbbed inside her, and with tentative, slow movements at first, he would begin all over again.

She felt stunned by the intensity of the sensations, feeling as if they had truly become one flesh, his scent filling her nostrils, her cheek nestled against his chest. After their intense rapture, they fell asleep again, and when she regained consciousness for a moment, she told herself that she couldn't open her eyes, as if Vhagar was lying next to her and not her husband, her King, the man who killed for her.

She would then open her eyes and lift her head, gazing with bliss and peace at his sleeping face. She stroked gently his cheek and hair, afraid that she would wake him. She was only answered by his hum of contentment, his arms clasping around her tighter, pressing her closer to him, his hand sinking into her hair, hugging her cheek to his heart.

She could hear his slow heartbeat, feel his warm breath, and thought she had never felt truly happy before him.

Truly peaceful.

Truly safe.

When, during one of the evenings they spent quietly in his chamber, each sunk in reading a book, sitting by the fireplace, Ser Criston walked in and announced that the bodies of the royal family had finally been found, decisions were made very quickly.

Her husband had ordered the tombs for his family to be made much earlier and they stood empty under the great temple next to the graves of his ancestors, waiting for their burial place to be discovered. She could see the pain mixed with anger on his face when he found out that the bodies of his parents and siblings were buried in a mass grave under the kitchen cellars.

She lowered her gaze with a clenched throat, thinking only of how humiliating it must have been for him, that her father had treated them worse than the murderers, who at least had the opportunity to be buried with prayers and any dignity.

Her husband ordered the work to be expedited and decreed that within the next two days everything was to be prepared for this grand royal funeral, unable to bear the thought that the bodies of his loved ones were lying and rotting, waiting for justice.

He did not speak, he did not eat and he did not sleep, immersed in his own thoughts, sitting for long hours in front of the fireplace and gazing into the flames, joining her only in the morning, seeking refuge in her embrace, tired and distraught.

Even though her father had done all this, she felt complicit.

"My Queen, the dressmakers have not managed to sew a suitably thick gown and cloak for you. It is freezing and snowing outside, why not wear a different gown, such as this one, a brown one?" Suggested one of her servants a few hours before the ceremony. She shook her head without even bestowing a single glance on her, looking in the mirror.

"No. I must wear black, wear mourning by the side of my King. Bring my gown and the cloak I wore at my mother's funeral." She said dispassionately, she heard the women look at each other with concern.

"But Your Grace, you will frown, the material is too thin. Let us at least put your furs on underneath your cloak." Mumbled one of them. She sighed and nodded.

As she rode behind her king-husband, past the row of coffins in front of them, the cold winter air pierced her body like daggers. She closed her eyes, trying to curl into herself, knowing that she faced hours of standing during the funeral ceremony in the cold temple and thought that this would be her punishment for what her father had done.

For the fact that his treacherous blood flowed in her.

Therefore, she hid the quivering of her body by standing behind her husband rather than at his side, wanting to bear it with dignity, thinking of lying down in a warm bed as soon as they returned to their stronghold.

Already on the journey back she felt an excruciating pain in her bones, her head heavy as if someone was squeezing her skull – it seemed to her that the world around her was humming and blurred, struggling to maintain a straight posture.

When they reached the courtyard of the fortress Ser Criston had to help her off her horse; he looked at her for a moment, apparently seeing her pallor, however he said nothing.

He did not trust her knowing who her father was.

She did not resent him for this.

The most important thing for her was to know that he was completely devoted to her husband.

Her King no longer commanded her to come to his chamber, simply disregarding the possibility that she should spend the evening and night anywhere other than with him.

For this reason, she followed him into his quarters feeling her whole body shaking – everything around her seemed blurred and painfully loud, she had the sensation as if someone was breaking her bones.

She swallowed with difficulty, stripping out of her cloak and gown with the help of her servants, one of whom seeing her pale face leaned over her and asked in a whisper.

"My Queen, shall I summon a medic?"

She shook her head, raising her hand in a gesture that informed them that they could leave – all she dreamed of was to lie down and sleep. Her husband only hummed under his breath when she told him she'd already gone to bed, sitting with his back to her by the fireplace, staring into the flames completely absorbed in his thoughts, memories and regrets.

When she lay down she finally felt some kind of relief – she didn't have the strength to turn or move so she just closed her eyes and after a moment there was silence and darkness all around her.

"My love?" She heard as if through a fog someone's voice, his voice, her King, her husband, her death, her beloved shadow. She felt his wonderfully cold hand on her inflamed body – even though she was drenched in sweat, she got the impression that she was freezing all over. "My love, wake up."

"I'm cold." She mumbled out with difficulty, unable to stop her body shivering, each breath made her struggle.

She felt that her lungs and nostrils were on fire.

She heard him swallow loudly and then he was gone, her mind drifting away again. She awoke with difficulty lifting her eyelids, suddenly noticing that the chamber she was in was filled with the light of candles. She could hear conversations all around her, as if there were several people inside, someone's hand washed her forehead and her chest with a cold cloth, bringing her relief.

"My King, we asked her, but she said she was choosing this gown and this cloak and that she would not bring shame to the king, that she must look proper on such an important day, we could not force her." She heard someone's terrified voice and recognised her maid, answered immediately by her husband's cold, mercyless hiss.

"You fucking fools! I'll hang each of you in turn as soon as…"

"− my King −" She muttered quietly, wishing he was by her side, terrified that she couldn't see anything clearly – her head was spinning and she had trouble keeping her eyelids open.

"− I'm so cold − yet at the same time my body seems to be on fire −"

She heard his quick movement, a moment later he was already beside her, his cold, familiar hand caressing her every night touched her cheek – she sighed in relief as she smelled his scent.

"− you have a fever, my love − brother Albert will prepare a decoction at once, which you will have to drink − rest now −"

She lurched as he forced her to drink the disgusting decoction she was nauseous from, the taste of ginger and garlic so intense that her stomach twisted all over.

"− drink − that's an order − you are to obey your King and husband −" He exhaled, holding her cheek painfully tight, tilting her head back so she wouldn't choke, forcing her sip after sip to drink it all to the bottom.

When he finally let her go she cried out loud, terrified and weak, not fully aware of what was really happening to her, forgetting where she was and who she was.

She felt her husband holding her in his arms throughout the night, his hand touching her forehead again and again, checking if her condition was improving. She had a feeling, half asleep, on the verge of consciousness and lack of it, that she heard him praying quietly, lying on his side behind her, his face pressed against her hair.

Gods, who watch over justice in heaven and on earth, have mercy on us.

Gods, who intercede for the poor and despised, have mercy on us.

Gods, who have brought this woman before me and bound me to her for eternity, have mercy on us.

What was empty is full.

What was broken is whole.

What was separated is one.

She tightened her hand on his arm which embraced her hearing his words, feeling a squeeze in her throat. He flinched at the gesture, lifting his head, she felt his anxious breath on her hot cheek.

"− my love? − how do you feel? −" He asked quietly and she swallowed loudly, feeling that she was still hot, her head was spinning and she was in pain all over, but she was no longer trembling.

"− tired, my King − tired and sore −" She whispered, and he sighed heavily, embracing her more tightly, putting his face where it had been a moment before.

"− sleep, my love − your husband is with you −" He whispered, rising after a moment, taking the cloth from her forehead – she heard him dip it in the water and squeeze it out, only to lay it again on her hot skin. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief at how pleasant it felt – he slipped his ice-cold hand under her nightgown and placed it over her heart.

The next day her husband had to attend a meeting and her mother replaced him at her side. She was forced to drink another dose of the medicine, but this time she was able to drink it alone, falling into a restless sleep again afterwards.

Brother Albert found to everyone's relief that her fever was slowly lowering and her body was beginning to fight back, that the worst was probably behind them.

Despite her mother's objections, when she felt a little better in the afternoon she asked to be allowed to take a bath and to change into a new chemise.

Washing her hair and body all drenched in sweat and then putting on a new undershirt made her feel fresh again, and although she felt like her head was going to burst and she had to go to bed again immediately, she regained her appetite and her mother personally went to see to it that everything she needed was brought to her.

She was surprised when one of the lords loyal to her husband since their conspiracy days, who was among his closest advisors, Lord Malet, entered her chamber. He had not announced himself beforehand and surprised her completely with his visit.

"My Queen, I know this is not the right time, however, there is an urgent matter I must discuss with you." He said standing away from her bed. She lifted her gaze to him and sighed heavily, having great difficulty concentrating, everything around her was spinning.

"Speak, my Lord. I am listening to you." She said in a hoarse voice and coughed quietly, sighing heavily. The lord shifted from foot to foot, swallowing loudly, clearly aware that he had to brew words.

"The King has decided today to marry my eldest daughter to an important dignitary of a neighbouring kingdom, to strengthen our alliances. However, I have already promised her hand to someone else. The King will not listen to me and I have come to beg you to intervene in this matter." He said lowly looking at his feet, embarrassed apparently by his request and by having to beg the traitor's daughter for help.

She let out a quiet breath, recognising that this matter required great delicacy and forethought – her husband was like a burning flame and all it took was a moment's inattention for him to set everything around them on fire in his rage.

"− I will try, my Lord −"

Her husband walked into their chamber as her mother was helping her eat the broth. Something about the sight pleased him; he hummed, coming closer to them with his hands clasped behind his back, his forehead lightened and smoothed.

"− my wife −" He said softly, and she nodded, not having the strength to do anything else.

"− I will take care of her now, my Lady −" He directed his words to her mother, and although the tone of his voice was calm, one could hear that he was not giving her any opportunity to object.

She nodded, handing him a half-empty plate of soup and stood up, stroking her head, telling her to rest.

As soon as the door closed behind her, her husband pulled the eye patch from his face, accustomed to not wearing it in her presence. He sat down next to her on the bed, putting on a spoonful of soup and placing it under her mouth. This time she did not stand up to him and ate slowly even though she was already full.

"− I'm glad you've got your appetite back −" He said lowly, relief and weariness in his voice at the same time – she knew he hadn't slept through the night, exhausted after the funeral and terrified of her condition. She swallowed quietly, gathering herself with difficulty to get out what she wanted to say.

"Lord Malet paid me a visit today." She began hesitantly, lifting her gaze to him. She saw that he looked at her surprised, vigilance in his healthy eye, his brow furrowed.

"What did he want from you? Why was he bothering you in such a state?" He asked with an air of annoyance and displeasure. She pressed her lips together, feeling her heart pounding fast.

"He came to ask me to help him in a matter concerning his daughter." She said slowly and saw him lick his lower lip furiously. He chuckled under his breath, however there was no laugh of amusement – he ran his hand over his mouth and chin impatiently.

"I see. Do not think about it." He said dryly, indicating to her that he intended to end the subject, putting another spoonful of soup on her.

"He is her father, Aemond." She made another attempt – he saw his jaw clench, his lips forming thin line, his nostrils moving restlessly.

He tried not to explode.

"And I am her King. She lives to fulfil her role for the kingdom." He said harshly, coldly, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

She could see in his gaze the threat that one more ill-considered word from her and he would lose his temper.

"If your father had told you to marry another woman instead of me, would you have done it?" She asked quietly, feeling her words hang in the ether; she saw the shock and fear in his gaze, his lips twitched – she could see he hesitated.

"…yes."

She looked at him with her lips slightly parted, feeling a tightening in her heart and in her stomach, some horrible, cold kind of disappointment flowed through her body, the realisation of who she was in his eyes.

A favourite, but still, just a pawn.

She answered nothing more, lowering her gaze, feeling only a terrible headache, only fatigue, only resignation.

"However, I fear she would soon meet with an unfortunate accident that would make me a widower." He added after a moment and she looked at him in disbelief, feeling her heart pounding rapidly.

He stared at her, his healthy eye wide open, focused only on her, a certain, cold, piercing gaze that would see every lie and hesitation, every weakness.

"The daughters of lords in the kingdom would die until you were the only candidate to become my wife. You know very well that I am very patient." He added in a half-whisper – she swallowed loudly as she saw him set the bowl of the soup down on the table next to their bed.

"You and I are like the sun and the moon. Like north and south. Like day and night." He hummed with delight, grinning uneasily to himself, his fingertips running over her warm cheek.

"Do you think I would let any other man take you as his wife? I'd let anyone else touch you? Hm?" He asked softly, but there was a sweet threat in his voice that sent a shiver through her. She shook her head, despite her fatigue and weakness feeling the throbbing between her thighs at his words, so dark, threatening, certain.

"And you? What would you have done if I had not come to you that night? If your treacherous father had married you off?" He asked lowly, quietly, looking at her vigilantly, more like an animal than a human being, searching for any signal of hesitation or falsehood.

"My husband would find me dead in his bed before he had time to touch me, to bruise me of the only thing left of my dignity." She whispered with a certainty from which he licked his lower lip quickly.

He began to breathe involuntarily through his mouth as he stared at her with wide-open eye, his sapphire gleaming mischievously in the moonlight streaming through the window into his chamber.

She sighed quietly as she felt his hand slide from her cheek down her neck to her breasts and lower abdomen, lifting her nightgown with an impatient motion, his fingers sinking into her hot, soft womanhood.

Her lips parted in a quiet, dreamy moan as he began to explore her condition, meeting her wetness between her slit – she saw a smirk appear on his face from which her walls pulsed hard around nothing.

"Destroy me. Leave me with nothing. Those were your words. Weren't they?" He gasped, his fingertips trailing between her folds, teasing her bud, her thighs involuntarily spread wider, the pleasure and tickle she felt in her lower abdomen making her feel even more stupefied.

"Yes." She mumbled quietly, innocently, with a sigh, as if the very memory of the intense, brutal act that was their first physical intimacy when he took her maidenhood brought her some kind of relief.

She shuddered as she felt his finger begin to slide tentatively inside her, teasing her opening with a click of her moisture, looking at her with some kind of intrigue.

"You didn't know who I was, and yet you let me take you. You longed to become my wife. Why?" He asked low, his voice deep and resonant, and she realised that this was the first time he had ever broached the subject of his or her feelings in any way, that he was allowing her into places of his mind that no one else had access to.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to focus, feeling weakened and at the same time distracted by the tickle she felt between her thighs, the tension that grew in her with each passing moment as his fingers dug harder into her throbbing heat, sliding out of her only to slide back in.

"− because you were like death − like a dark veil, a shroud, a coffin, and I felt dead − it seemed so right −" She whispered and she heard him draw in the air loudly, as if her words had startled him, his thumb beginning to run over her pearl and tease her as his fingers pressed the spot inside her hidden in her folds with sure, circular motions.

"− do you still feel dead? −" He exhaled in a trembling voice, as if there was something in the sight of her, in the way she moaned softly and wriggled helplessly, without the strength to resist him, from which he was losing his temper.

"− sometimes − but not with you − never with you −" She mumbled, glancing up at him wearily – his face looking different from usual, breathing loudly along with her, his full lips parted slightly, his eyebrows arched as if in worry, his eye misty, full of affection and longing.

"− if I will not be violent − will you let me? −" He asked in a quivering voice, and she nodded, knowing what he wanted, knowing what he needed.

He undressed, allowing her hand to untie the ribbon in his hair as he leaned over her, gently stroking her face with his fingers. He lay down between her thighs looking down at her, lifting the material of her nightgown only over her thighs, not wanting her to get cold.

She felt the head of his cock pushing against her slit and she sighed softly, spreading her thighs wider, wanting to make his task easier. He rooted into her surprisingly tentatively and slowly, sliding out several times, as if he wanted her insides to adjust to such intense filling.

It was such a surprisingly pleasurable and tender sensation that she began to moan quietly beneath him, stroking his cheeks and hair, their mouths meeting with each other in a sticky, hot, slow kiss, then another and another, their lips trailing over each other, their hot breaths surrounding their faces.

She ran her fingertips over the skin of his scarred cheek, feeling his thrusts begin to grow deeper and more confident, they both started to pant as a thrill of pleasure shuddered through them. She clasped her hands on his bare buttocks, rubbing against him so that he pressed the wonderful spot inside her each time he slided inside her.

"− yes − oh, yes −" She whispered, tilting her head back, his lips slid down to her neck, placing small, greedy kisses on her skin, leaving a wet trail on it, sucking and licking her naked flesh, rooting into her with the sure, deep thrusts of his hips, her walls clenching against him steadily.

"− am I causing you pain? − do you want to stop? −" He muttered between his pushes, with the remnants of his strong will trying to remember that she was still weakened and sick, that just a few hours ago she had a fever and should now be resting, not exerting herself.

However, he had never done this to her in such a gentle way before and she shook her head quickly, breathing loudly along with him.

"− n-no − please − please, husband, it feels so good −" She mewled, massaging his neck with her palm – she heard him groan low, his manhood throbbed hard inside her. He immediately sped up his pace, taking her hot hips in his hands, pounding confidently and deeply into her, slapping his thighs against her buttocks with a loud click of her moisture.

"− fuck − so good −" He exhaled looking down at her with his lips parted wide – she clamped her hands on the pillow on either side of her head, feeling her walls suck him inside, soaking his cock, his pace increasingly intense and fast.

All that came out of her mouth was a mumble as she came suddenly, pleasure shook her body and she just began to moan helplessly, trying to push him away, but to no avail – he pressed his hands against the bedding, slamming into her like mad, panting and groaning loudly, allowing himself to be more vocal than usual, his forehead pressed against hers.

"− just a little longer, my love − I'm so close − oh, gods, fuck, fuck, fuck! −" He gasped loudly, with a few final, desperate thrust filling her with his seed, his face expressing fulfilment and bliss. They panted for a moment with their eyes closed, still rocking their hips, trying to calm themselves.

She stroked his soft, long hair as his body fell gently on top of her, completely without strength, making sure he didn't crush her with his weight.

"You have possessed my body and soul." He whispered in her ear, his large hands still stroking her thighs and buttocks in a soothing, calm motion.

"You have broken into my mind. Into my heart. I feel that I'm losing my mind. That I have crossed the line leading into madness." He muttered in a trembling voice and, without knowing why, she felt herself smiling, her lips placing a tender, warm kiss on his bare, sweaty shoulder, her fingers running over his back.

"We both crossed it long time ago, my love."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @rwdkarla @echos-muses @ipostwhtifeel @letmeloveyouuuu

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howdoyouwhiskit · 6 months

Text

*deep breath* so I’ve been meaning to make a big post about House re:mobility aids and chronic pain treatment for a LONG time so here we go this is gonna be a long ride that probably won’t make a lot of sense in regards to a linear narrative so buckle up motherfuckers

Disclaimer: I am disabled, have chronic pain, and am an ambulatory mobility aid user. I have experience using a cane, forearm crutches, a rollator, and a walker. I understand everyone’s experiences are different. I am writing this from my personal experience with mobility aids which may influence some interpretations of things

Let’s start with the obvious one, House uses his cane wrong. They recognize this in canon. It isn’t simply a case of “oh the show writers were lazy and it’s never mentioned.” What I haven’t seen people discuss is that using a cane the way House does (in my experience anyways) fucking hurts. It isn’t comfortable at all. It feels awkward and clunky and at least personally within a few minutes of using a cane in that fashion my *entire body* hurts. Plus, it doesn’t even really help take the pressure off of my leg pain.

Given the all of him there’s two conclusions that I’d like to make about this (and remember this isn’t canon, just simply my interpretation as a disabled person):

It’s very obvious that House has Feelings about mobility aids. Society can often make people think that using mobility aids is a weakness. Admitting something is wrong. House very clearly doesn’t like to do either of those things. I personally have incredibly complicated feelings about mobility aids that I can’t even begin to put into words. I see myself in House in this regard.

I can’t help but think that him using his cane incorrectly is some fucked up form of self punishment. It’s been brought up in canon that House has a tendency to self harm in various ways. I don’t think that people realizing that him using a cane incorrectly could be related. For those who are unfamiliar, using any mobility aid (even a cane) incorrectly can cause damage. I do not claim to be a doctor but I imagine that House would be dealing with back and shoulder issues at minimum from using his cane the way he does.

The next thought I have is something I think about a lot. It’s clear House’s pain fluctuates, as it does for a lot of chronic pain patients. What I don’t see a lot of people talking about is realistically he could fluctuate mobility aids with the fluctuations of his pain. Yes, I understand there are limitations within his career as a doctor, but this is House MD were talking about there isn’t exactly always exact medical realism is there? I just can’t help but wonder, what would House’s life look like, if he let himself use something other than a cane?

I know there’s an episode where House does use a wheelchair for access to an accessible parking space, and I really really wish they expanded upon this more in canon. Personally, I think House needing to be (but not necessarily acting on it) a part time ambulatory wheelchair user makes sense.

I’ve read some fic/headcanons about House needing a wheelchair (Berber it be due to an advancement in disability or as an acceptance of his current disability) yet everyone talks about him using a shitty hospital grade chair. He’s a doctor who probably has great insurance plus a lofty department head paycheck. If House were in a position to have a wheelchair, he could very very easily access a top of the line custom made chair.

I understand the representation of the standard hospital chair often comes from a place of ignorance about custom wheelchairs, I really do. I just think that the concept of using a hospital chair permanently can cloud the judgement of if it’s truly a “bad thing” or not. Hospital wheelchairs are fucking uncomfortable and not easy to use. A custom chair, when built right, is none of these things.

Just, I’d love more House fanwork that embraces the idea of mobility aids. No, I don’t mean make House randomly decide “oh I’m gonna accept help now” and make him OOC. No, I mean let’s actually dive into House’s feelings about mobility aids, create some fanworks where maybe he works through some of his internalized ableism and self hatred and lets himself be accommodated. I hate seeing fic after fic that makes it seem like it’s some tragedy that House needs crutches or a walker or wheelchair. I want it to be normalized. Disability can be progressive and that’s just life. Yes, it’s upsetting. Yes, it can be sad to those involved. No, it doesn’t mean the end of the world.

Now I think it’s time to talk in regards to the treatment of his chronic pain, outside of the way he accommodates his mobility. I think that, while this is probably related to the writers wanting to stick to the “addicted to Vicodin” plot line, House’s pain management in the series, sucks, to put it lightly. I’ve been to multiple pain management programs (both at formal PM clinics and informal PM done by other specialists) and any doctor worth their salt would have had him on some sort of nerve pain medication and probably some form of muscle relaxer from the very beginning. While, yes, one could argue that House is on these medications and it’s just not mentioned, I really really don’t think that’s the case. You could also argue that he may have been offered these things, and simply refused them. This could very well be the case. However, that doesn’t erase the fact that these things could be helpful.

When House is off Vicodin, they have him substantiating off of exclusively ibuprofen. I’ve had chronic pain bad enough to need opioids treated with high doses of ibuprofen and in my personal experience, it doesn’t do shit. It just upsets your stomach and risks kidney issues and doesn’t actually help with the pain. The fact that just because he deals with addiction he doesn’t get proper pain management is BONKERS to me.

I understand that they were, within the shows canon, attempting to claim that at least some of the pain was psychological. Just because someone’s pain is psychological doesn’t mean you do not treat it. There are plenty of ways to treat psychological pain. Again, one could argue that House simply refused. Again, I’d say that you might be right.

You notice that I say that House very realistically could’ve refused various treatments that could make his life better. Just like how it is with his cane, I believe this is an effort at self punishment. If these efforts at self punishment are conscious or not is genuinely up to you. I personally view it as unconscious, but again, as I said in the beginning, I’m interpreting this the way I see things.

Anyways, just needed to get my thoughts out there, as a crippled person who’s been obsessed with House since before they realized that their chronic pain wasn’t normal. Since before they realized that the word disabled was something that could be applied to them.

Feel free to reply to this with thoughts or questions and y'all are more than welcome to DM me to pick my brain about this!

#i have many feelings #i have many thoughts #chomping at the bit wanting to scream #these have been in my brain for years thanks for asking #house md #hate crimes md #gregory house

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doodlekoo · 11 months

Text

OUCH | pjm

Summary: you hurt your foot and Jimin thinks your gonna die

Pairing: boyfriend!jimin x fem?reader (mentions pronouns a few times)

Word count: 2.4k

Rating: PG

Genre/Warnings: established relationship, injury, pain, implied?verbal abuse, explicit language, kissing, FLUFF HEH (my favourite), oc is so in love with Jimin

Note: hello fellow fluff lovers, i’m so sorry i’ve been ia for 10 months i was focusing on finishing my final year for college. tbh creative writing isn't my strong point it’s more of a side hobby so please understand i won’t be updating regularly i’ll probably be posting more so when I'm bored and feel like it ahahaha. I do want to point out thanks to all those who liked my previous stories. I really do appreciate it it’s great motivation!! anywho this story was based on when i hurt my foot (it was a more gross story but still hurt like a bitch) i tried limping home but the entire time i wished someone would carry me and care for me the way jimin does in the ff (sad i know). i originally wanted it to be longer going into detail about Jimin’s backstory but i thought short and sweet was better SO ENJOY i hope you all like it :)

and as always please let me know what you guys think and if you want more stories like this! please also leave a like and/or reblog if you enjoyed reading! :D

A warm sensation spreads through your body, engulfing you in a comforting embrace. You couldn't help but smile as a sense of contentment washed over you. The day had been a success. You followed every command and every instruction that your superiors had asked you to follow. Starting a new job was a challenging experience, one you hadn’t gone through before. The memory of your previous employment still haunts you, the echoes of your coworkers' voices reverberating in your mind as they berated you for the slightest of missteps. Not only was it stressful to deal with that every day, but you would also feel even more drained coming home after the endless regrets ran through your mind.

The more you worked at that god-awful place, the more your thoughts grew—were these issues truly insignificant, or were they looming large and you simply lacked the perspective to see them?

Your boyfriend, Jimin, was constantly begging you to quit the job since the sight of you so wrapped up in absolute guilt crushed him every day. Jimin only wanted what was best for you. The stubbornness he had over you was often a hard take but it was only ever going to be beneficial. As the begs increased in volume, your guilt scaled high, resulting in an endless cycle.

You knew you had to do it. Gathering yourself mentally and emotionally to utter those two liberating words took a great deal of courage.

"I quit."

You said it slightly quietly, still unsure. but you were stern about it with an attempt at a demeaning stare. In your head, you felt pretty confident with the way you delivered it, only to have that confidence descend with the sudden scoffs followed by the classic response, "Is that supposed to impress me?"

Perhaps Jimin was right. The testosterone in the room was unbearable at this point, and that slow, excruciating deterioration of your brain was just really not worth it. Staring back at your manager, you remained undeterred.

"I'll be handing in my notice tomorrow."

It was never worth creating an argument with your manager or anyone who lacked basic brain cells, in fact. That simple interaction only changed you for the better, and slowly but surely you felt you had a little more respect for yourself.

As you navigate the bustling street after your third shift, a palpable aura of rejuvenation surrounds you, causing your steps to take on a playful bounce. The faint aroma of coffee lingers on your clothes. The joy felt completely surreal, almost like time and space had been warped. Though the relentless bombardment of verbal abuse made your mind gradually deteriorate, it now made even the most challenging tasks a mere cakewalk.

The rain had been hammering down on the cafe windows for most of the day, so when you were met with the fortunate sun slowly peeking out from the clouds, you felt enveloped with its warmth, feeling it gradually filling your mind up with a little extra dose of serotonin.

Several metres or so away from your workplace, in a small back alley, you could smell the damp brick encroaching on your senses. Looking farther ahead, you saw the recent confrontation you were only slowly getting used to. It was amusing to you that a couple of steps were the only thing you had to worry about in your new day-to-day life. It was a sign that you were at least doing something right. You braced yourself for the steep steps that lay ahead while keeping in mind the wet, slick concrete.

And at that moment, the serotonin vanished. As the calmness of the moment dissipated, a surge of anxiety and adrenaline took over. Your heart plummeted as you failed to catch those final steps. Your foot barely brushes the step's edge. As you stumbled, your ankle gave way beneath you, sending you tumbling to the ground.

You squealed, trying not to make any noise, as a wave of pain shot from your foot up through your body when the weight followed.

"Ouch,"

You hissed in pain as you sat at the foot of the steps. Looking absolutely helpless. The surrealness seemed to slip away as the situation unfolded before your eyes. Your mind wandered in silence. As you glanced around, a wave of relief washed over you as you realised that no one had witnessed your mortifying disaster.

I'm fine. I'm fine. You managed to convince yourself that you could make it home since the distance to your house was less than a mile. I can limp; it's fine. You reached for the railing and attempted to pull yourself up, only to be reacquainted with the searing pain you'd felt before.

Fuck.

You personally don't like to worry excessively about pain and injuries because you've always considered it a waste of time to acknowledge the warnings your body gave you. As the numbness set in, you realised that the situation was far worse than you had initially thought. Your body lay still and unresponsive, leaving you with only your thoughts to keep you company.

Along with the overwhelming urge to get up and leave, you also had the nagging fear that someone could hear a small person yelping at the bottom of the steps and decide to make a huge deal out of it. You know one person, Jimin, who would take his time over an insignificant issue. He would be the one to hire a golden carriage and transport you in grandeur, as the conclusion to convincing you that you needed to rescue yourself from those said scary steps. That was the worst-case scenario in your mind. However, it reached the point where you would rather have him make this big of a deal than a complete stranger who would have thought you were weak, whereas Jimin was certain that you are not.

A soft, sad sigh escapes your lips as your hand instinctively reaches for the back pocket of your jeans. With fingers trembling in anticipation, you searched for Jimin's name. As you raised your phone to your ear, you sensed your heart rate accelerating. Your nerves were on edge, and you did not want to burden Jimin with any additional worries. Making Jimin anxious was punishment enough. Every day, catching a glimpse of Jimin's radiant smile was like a burst of sunshine, flooding your world with a second dose of serotonin. But the thought of not being able to bring that smile to his face or turn it into a beaming grin was gnawing at your insides.

"Hey, ___, I’m so sorry. I’ll be home soon! I’m just out with Namjoon and Hobi!" Jimins' amplified voice, together with the distant chatter in the background, echoed through the alleyway. "No, Jimin i-"

"It was just- Hobi wanted us to come see designs after work, and naturally we all piled into the bar! We are finishing up now!"

"Jimin, that's not why I'm calling…" You replied with a low tone.

"Huh?? Sorry babe, I can't hear you that well!" You chuckled to yourself at the agonising situation. Oh Jimin..

"Jimin, I fell.."

"Sorry, what was that??"

"I don’t know Jimin. I fell down these steps, and I can't get up. It's so embarrassing. I don't know what to do.."

"Shit. Stay there. I'm coming now. Where are you?" The way Jimin's entire demeanour shifts over the phone, it intimidates the hell out of you.

"I’m just outside that alleyway from my work... Do you know the one?"

"Yes, I do. I’ll be there in five minutes." And with that, Jimin ends the call.

"Fuck. That was my girlfriend. I’m so sorry guys, I have to go" Jimin, on the other hand, was shitting it. Hearing your frightened voice over the phone was enough for him to travel day and night to you.

"Is something wrong?" Namjoon asked, apprehensive. He'd only see Jimin's expression like this when something was seriously wrong.

"I'm not sure, I think she’s hurt. I'll see you guys soon." Jimin said, frantically stuffing all his things in his bag. "Aw, alright, I hope she’s okay," Hoseok chirped.

"I hope so too. Bye!!" And just like that, Jimin literally flew outside the bar door. Foot harsh on the pedal. On his way: to you.

You kept your eyes on the cracks along the walls, waiting for Jimin. In the end, a few people did come by, but you covered it up by sitting on the floor and talking on your phone, and they didn't seem to notice. It's currently quiet as the sun is descending. But eventually you could hear faint, sporadic panting in the distance. It was the said saviour of the day.

"___!! Oh my god, oh my god, are you okay?? What happened?!?" Jimin gasped, looking at you like a precious gem that had cracked.

"I’m alright, just a little stumble. But I can't stand up, and it’s annoying." With a faint chuckle, you replied. You looked up at him, hoping to see his gaze soften and persuade him that it wasn't such a major issue, but his anxious expression didn't fade.

Scrambling towards you, he examined your ankle carefully, gently touching it in the process.

"Hm, I’m not a doctor, but I think maybe you sprained it. We should go to the hospital." He announced it sincerely.

"NO. I mean- no Jimin, no hospital, please; it’s not a big deal."

"Are you sure? I mean, you said you couldn’t even stand up?" It was endearing that Jimin tried to convince you, but because you didn't want to feel even more embarrassed, you simply scowled at him and hoped he understood what you were trying to imply.

"Okay, okay, let’s go home then." Jimin let out a little giggle at your silliness. But he now knew it was time for him to take on the doctor role and oh how Jimin would take that role very seriously. "Right, I need to carry you to the car then, can you try and get on my back?"

Jimin crouched in front of you after turning around. You used your entire upper-body strength to push yourself onto Jimin's back by reaching for his shoulders. His arms came back around and supported you from behind before he stood up and repositioned you.

"You okay?" Jimin asks once again. "Yes. Thank you, Jimin."

You scoot closer to his back, not just so he can carry you, but also so you can embrace him. Jimin carefully made his way back up the steps and onto the busy street, attempting to find his way back to the car park. You felt embarrassed by the many stares so you cuddled your face closer into the back of Jimin's neck.

It felt safe there, and you could smell his perfume's mild flowery scent mingled with the peppermint notes of his shampoo. Oh, how he always smelled so good. You smiled into his neck and pecked him lightly. This elicited a slight chuckle from him.

Jimin gently places you in the passenger seat and carefully rearranges your legs. He tightens the seatbelt and ensures you're safe and secure. You glance up at him, speechless. After the manner in which he's been treating you, the decision to call him for assistance felt extremely justifiable. As your gaze lingers on Jimin, he catches your eye, and a soft chuckle escapes his lips once more.

"Is this okay?" Jimin asked with a grin. "Yes, Jimin, this is perfect." As your gaze met his, a rush of warmth flooded your heart. The way he looked at you with such tenderness and affection was a feeling beyond words. To have someone who cherished you so deeply was truly a gift beyond measure. A rosy hue crept up Jimin's cheeks, causing his smile to widen even further.

Closing your door and driving back to the house was quite quiet, but it also felt soothing and safe at the same time. Jimin carried you on his back once again while fumbling to retrieve his keys from his pocket to open the door. Making his way to the sofa, he plopped you down softly.

"Okay, wait there. Don't go anywhere; I’m going to find a bandage." You laughed and shook your head at his stupid yet endearing joke.

When Jimin returned 10 minutes later, he did not only return with a bandage but also with half the house. Blankets, pillows, comfy clothes, a big bowl of snacks, and on top, the said bandage. You couldn’t even see his concentrated face through the massive mountain of love.

Your laughs echoed throughout the room once again while Jimin dumped everything beside you. He then carefully helps you undress into your loungewear and, following a YouTube tutorial, attempts to wrap the bandage around your foot. Watching him all focused on you made your heart flip around the room. He is so adorable.

"Okay, I think that’s good. Now do you want a pillow under your foot as well?" Jimin asked you politely. "I think it’s alright like this." You look at him, smiling.

"Hm, scratch that, I’m getting you a pillow."

When Jimin returns from getting a pillow, he gently lifts your feet to place it beneath them. He then throws various fluffy blankets over you while tucking in the sides, making sure once again that you don’t go anywhere. Looking back at you, he moves in close, giving you a soft peck on your forehead. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he momentarily retreats before leaning back in, peppering your face with a flurry of playful kisses. The two of you erupt into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, your heads thrown back in pure love and joy.

"Now what should I put on the TV for you?" Jimin sits beside you after grabbing the TV remote. "Anything I don’t mind."

Jimin then proceeds to put on your favourite film. Pressing play; he looks at you with a soft smile. "Please be more careful; I hate seeing you hurt like this." He pats your head gently while wrapping his arm around you.

"I’ll try not to Jimin ''. You say as you move closer to him, resting your head on his chest.

Paying close attention to the rest of the movie, your sixth sense tells you Jimin isn't watching it at all; he's staring at your ankle, hoping nothing will hurt it any further.

#bts x reader #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts ff #bts fluff #bts #kpop #bts one shot #jimin #park jimin #jimin x you #jimin x reader #bts jimn #jimin fluff #jimin fanfic #fluff #pjm #bts fanfic

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lizlovell · 4 months

Text

You're Losing Me

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Angst//part one

part 2

summary:You and Draco grew distant for the first time ever in your relationship of two years.You are getting tired being the only one trying to fix things.

As the third week of December drew closer, the sky became gloomier with cold embracing the Hogwarts and its library became busier with scrambling students stressed out for midterm before the winter break.But this december not only brought cold to your school,but also to your relationship with Draco Malfoy,unfortunately there is no amount of sweater u can wear to recover from it.

''We both are just probably busy with studies,everything will go back to normal once the exams are over''

You try to comfort yourself as you tag your freezing hand inside your coat,remembering how Draco used to always scold you for forgetting gloves.He would hold your cold hands nonetheless,and put them in his coat for extra warmth. You felt a pang in your chest when u find yourself thinking about the memories again. No matter how hard you tried to ignore,you can't shake off the feeling of the way his eyes turned icy whenever he looks at you now.

You haven't talked to Draco properly for a week now. It's either he is studying or you are busy with essays. And in meal time in Great Hall, his cold galres and sharp replies drained your energy to talk at all. But, you can't just let it happen, not when you have spent your past two years falling head over heels for the blonde boy.So,you tried your best to pretend like nothing is wrong,like the physically painful tension between you and him doesn't exist at all. And finally,the exam is over before it snaps.

''Dray..do you wanna go to Hogsmeade together before the Christmas break? ''

His eyes are tense.His brows are frowned noticably. The pale and long fingers are folded far away from yours.

''I don't rlly know. I might have to go home ealier this year''

Lies.

''we can at least spend tonight together right?we can go to astronomy tower and-''

Then it snapped.

''No,Y/N .I don't want to. The exam just finished. Let me live''

It is like an ice bucket has poured over your head. Numb, lost and cold.

''..why'',you sobbed out .

''There is no why.I'm just tired. and we do not have anything to talk anyway,do we? Y/N...we spend our days in same routine:what's still there to talk. stop playing pretend. we both know we need some break''.

You desperately searched for any signs of intimacy in his eyes,any signs, just anything at all,but the silver orbs are colder than ever. A gust of wind rushed through and messed up his blonde locks. You felt a chill run down your spine.

''a break?''

Suddenly,everything start making sense to you. How he had time to run around from parties to parties but not for you.How his laughs faded when you entered the group conversation. How he dropped your hand in the hallway. How he hasn't hold u for a month now. The exam wasn't a cause,it was a mere excuse all along. He was falling out of love.

''not as in break but you know what i mean...'', his tone is soft with guilt lingering around. A heavy sigh left him. He gets closer to you awkwardly. Can this even be called as a hug? Instead of the warmth it used to give, it feels suffocated and forced. You shivered.

"whatever you mean Draco''

You are getting tired being the only one putting effort. Staring at his messy hair and his stressful figure, you've decided you are going to let this go. All these memories you made in two years, all the ''I can't live without you'' talk. All the sneaking between classes,making love. Love? Was it even there.

You dropped his hand. You ignored the uncertain guilt in his eyes. You turned your heel and walked away.

Draco never meant for this sort of thing to happen between two of you. You were precious. The way your soft touch traced along his face to comfort him whenever something worried him. The way you squeezed his hands with a smile whenever he felt the disappointment in himself. You saw things other could not see in him. Your lips brought love and peace he didn't even know exist in him. He didn't realize how he should be grateful for the things until they are gone. Now everything is gone. He thought he might feel free and less responsible once he is away from you. He put all of his stress and the pressure from his family on you. Merlin,he feels the terrible guilt ride in him.

He spent the entire holiday forcing himself to believe he did a right thing and he should feel more satisfied now. He didn't. His days became more terrible. He started to notice how clean his dorm used to be when you were around. He started to find himself subconciously looking for your presence in his sleep. The alone time he thought he needed start to haunt him down.

He waited. He waited for you to come back to him like you always did whenever he pushed you away. But he grew more restless day by day whenever he see you in the hallways and classes unbothered and calm sitting NOT next to him. For once in his life,Draco Malfoy knew he fucked up. He has lost you.

. . . . . . .

part 2

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco lucius malfoy #draco x reader angst #harry potter fanfic #draco fanfiction

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moonpiett · 11 months

Text

𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

leon: Are you staring at my chest?

Y/N : When i see a man the first thing I see is they're heart, it's not my fault they're tits are in the way

Leon : ⁄⁠(⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠•⁠⁄⁠-⁠⁄⁠•⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠)⁠⁄

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

If you're an animal person or just think they're cute, leon would find emoticons of them and send them to you while gess at work

Leon: hey, look what I can do. ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

Y/N: OH. MY. GOD. LEON THATS ADORABLEEEE.

Leon : Just like you love (ﾐゝᆽ╹ﾐ)

Y/N : Oh my god you're gona give me a heart attack, THEY ARE SO CUTEE AHHHHHHHH

Leon: =✪ ᆺ ✪=

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

While sleeping while with Leon seems cute, he would be the person who would fall asleep and accidently smack in hand on your face in the middle of the night fast asleep

*smack* Leon's hand right on your face causing you to wake up.

"leon?" You turn to your side to see leon fast asleep and mumbling incoherent words. And before you could even react any further he turns to your side and envelopes you into his arms for a a warm embrace.

"you're lucky i love you" and just as u said that you could have sworn you heard a slight chuckle leave his lips.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

BREAKFAST IN BED.

this man definitely thinks that breakfast is THE MOST important meal of the day and will find any reason to make it for you and ESPICALY when you're sick.

"ohhh leonnn you didn't have to do all of this" you said while looking down at the spread of food in front of you, from pancakes to a great cup of coffee (sweet or pain however you like it). All while somehow not burning down the house.

"oh please, i did this cause i wanted to. Now how about you relax and watch something while I go clean up" leon said with a beaming smile on his face and oh how you loves to see that.

"only on one condition."

"what is it sweetheart"

"you have to sit down and have breakfast with me*

You saw leons eyes light up with a hint of mischief in them. "Allright sweetheart, anything for you"

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

During the night while both of you sleep it's either you or leon who would hog up 90% of the blanket. Which leads to you just getting closer to leon and cuddling into him for comfort.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

my asks and requests are open so feel free to send me any request or ask me a question!

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ironmandeficiency · 9 months

Text

the hobbit + hozier songs

characters included: kíli, bilbo, dwalin, thorin, nori, bofur, ori, fíli, dori, tauriel

word count: 1166

a/n: the amazing and precious @wordbunch inspired me to write these bc of her lotr/th characters as taylor swift songs posts & i couldn't be more excited to finally post this labor of love!! thank you bestie for listening to me scream abt this for nearly two months lol

kíli: foreigner’s god

he loves outside of his race and this fact causes undue scorn to be thrown at his feet. it’s unheard of for almost any dwarf, let alone one from the line of durin, to do such a thing. this does not deter him - it empowers him; if his heart could go against the traditions forged into his bones, molten in his hot blood, how could it not be true? the strength of his love is what helps him ignore the doubts shouted by the prejudice plaguing those who know nothing of his heart. that, and the sound of your laughter at his antics, the soft smiles only given to him when he’s being a little too charming… he could go on.

bilbo: like real people do

as much flack as bilbo gets from the company for not being conventionally tough, he’s not weak by any means. he’s familiar with the pain of loss, and how the ways one tries to rise above the grief that follows aren’t always savory. he knows there’s a respect to be found in the absence of prying questions, choosing simply to coexist in the feelings and allow answers to come in their own sweet time. he’ll put some tea on to cook and scrounge up some leftovers from the previous meal, sitting beside you and letting the comfort flow naturally, his soft lips soothing the most tender aches.

dwalin: work song

just looking at him, you wouldn’t think dwalin a sap. but with his insanely strong sense of loyalty and stalwart dedication, he can’t be anything but. he’s faced down innumerable evils in his time, braved the fiercest of storms that many of his comrades didn’t; none of them even come close to keeping him from you. your arms welcome him home without question after each fight he braves, and your letters tucked into secret compartments in his armor keep him warm between embraces. he’ll read them by the fire every night when he’s away, every gentle word carrying his mind away from thoughts of the day’s turmoil.

thorin: sedated

this sweet, sad man doesn’t think he deserves good things in life. this, unfortunately, includes having someone love him despite his flaws and past mistakes. he couldn’t resist admitting his feelings for you and was ridiculously shocked that you reciprocated & allowed him to love you. on nights when he feels his failures deeper, he’ll try to convince you that he doesn’t deserve you. vitriol will escape from worried lips and terrified heart, piercing you in the way only a lover knows how. a soft kiss, gentle words, and a few strokes through his hair will soothe these wounds from him for a time and allow him some of the peace he’s fought to find, but doesn’t always believe is earned.

nori: it will come back

it was decades since the last time nori thought of love, even longer since he believed himself worthy of it. meeting you only solidified his disbelief; how could someone look at him and see someone that deserved such a pure thing, after everything he’s done in his life? he’s stolen, lied, cheated, and killed to survive (and sometimes not for mere survival). his attempts to spurn you away from him only increased your determination to break through the fortress he built around himself. he could only be strong against your advances for so long before he crumbled, reluctantly accepting the love and peace and safety you offered so freely.

bofur: nobody

bofur’s done a lot in his time. he was born in the blue mountains, a colony that never seemed to find the prosperity needed to do more than simply survive. he is a brother, uncle, cousin, friend, toymaker, miner, member of the great company that reclaimed erebor. but through all his adventures and hardships, he never lost his playful streak. he wants to have fun with who he loves, wants a little bit of mischief to make his laugh louder and brighter. bofur is a fun-loving soul who, despite his wandering past, will always choose you over anywhere that you’re not.

ori: francesca

ori’s life has never been a peaceful one. being raised by dori and being followed by the whispers of his late amad’s reputation (not to mention nori’s) without a mountain to call home, it weighed on his shoulders. even his craft, the pride of every dwarrow worth their beard, happened to be one seen as miniscule in importance compared to smithing. every moment spent with his one, doing anything or nothing at all, eases the burden he carries and makes every moment of strife worth it just to be with the soul made to mirror his.

fíli: i, carrion (icarian)

your love for him seems almost too good to be true, the remnants of stories told in dusty tomes written by those with far more eloquence than he can claim to possess. that being said, he is definitely not one to look a gift boar in the mouth. he relishes in each tender moment, every second spent in your presence that carries him far beyond the constraints life has placed upon him. but he recognizes that life isn’t always so simple, retreating into your arms and wishing that everything around you both just disappears. there’s always reality, waiting patiently outside of your chambers for one faulty misstep to throw you both askew. that’s why he dedicates himself to showing you that if life does what it does best and deals harsh blows, he will be there for you through it all.

dori: shrike

dori never had time for love; he had two brothers to protect, one more wily than the other was young. his focus was on getting his brothers through the days, putting food on their plates and the semi-frequently used stash of bail money well-stocked. he allowed his feelings for his one to fall to the wayside in the name of preservation. he ignored their call for decades and braved out the pain that came with such a silence. he begged for his one’s forgiveness every time they called for him. but once the mountain was reclaimed and his brothers safe, he yearned for what he could have had. he would approach his one with much regret and sorrow for the time lost, but a pure hope that they could find forgiveness in their heart for him.

tauriel: unknown/nth

to earn her love is a feat unlike that which the world has known for a long time. being seen as worth all these mortal struggles and painful toils in the eyes of an elf, let alone one as fierce as tauriel, is quite the achievement to anyone outside looking in. to the red-haired warrior in question, though, giving her love to you has the same unthinking ease as breathing; it’s beyond instinct to do and just as necessary to her survival. you’re worth every century spent alone, every moment after knowing you spent away from you.

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aphroditelovesu · 7 months

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The Lost Queen - VIII

— summary: You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn’t understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren’t safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won’t let you go so easily.

— genre: yandere, dark!au.

— warnings: time travel, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, angst, fluffy (very rarely), dub-con, possibly smut.

— pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader, yandere!generals x female!reader.

— word count: 2,064.

— tag list: @devils-blackrose, @faerykingdom, @hadesnewpersephone, @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @kadu-5607, @zoleea-exultant, @borntoexplore11-blog, @silmawensgarden

— the lost queen series masterlist.

Chapter 8

You knew it wasn't the right thing to do, that you weren't thinking straight but you didn't care.

You needed comfort, affection and Perdiccas was willing to give it to you. It wasn't that you were planning on having sex with him, you hadn't thought about going that far, but a few kisses and silly hands weren't going to kill you both, right?

Perdiccas touched your face as he kissed you, deepening the kiss. You felt his tongue touch yours shyly, as if he was asking for permission to kiss you.

It warmed you inside, it felt good to know someone still cared about what you wanted.

''You're so sweet...'' The general whispered after you separated. You blushed a little but smiled, looking at your hands that were intertwined.

''Oh, yeah?'' You laughed.

''Hey, look at me.'' He said and you looked up, staring into those mesmerizing blue eyes that threatened to make you weak in the knees, ''Your eyes are beautiful, just like you.''

''Do you say that to everyone?'' You joked and he laughed, shaking his head in denial.

''Only for the one I like.'' He winked at you.

Your heart beat faster.

''Perdiccas, I-'' You were interrupted, when he placed a finger on your lips.

''Don't.''

You frowned, ''Don't what?''

''Don't do that.''

You were speechless when he started staring at you with such intensity that it scared you. And you felt a discomfort, a pain, take over your body as those ocean blue eyes filled with tears and an indescribable pain took over them.

''Perdiccas...''

''Why, (Y/N)? Why do I feel this way about you? What's wrong with me?!'' He started to question you frantically and you pulled him into your arms, trying to calm him down.

''Shhh...''

''I don't want to feel like this!'' You'd be lying if you said his words didn't affect you, because they did. They stirred your heart in the same way the kiss had done.

''It wasn't my intention...'' You tried to defend yourself, but you knew there was no way. The truth was that you didn't even know why you felt this way, you knew that you couldn't create feelings for him, because if you didn't... Everything would be in vain, you would not only cause him pain but yourself when you left.

Because you would leave. That's what you wanted, wasn't it? So why did the thought of abandoning Perdiccas bother you so much?

''Does not matter. It doesn't matter how I feel about you.'' His words were like a dagger being thrust into your heart. Perdiccas pulled away from your embrace.

''Please...'' You closed his eyes, not bearing to look at him right now.

''Please what, (Y/N)? I can't bear this, I can't!'' He exploded and stood up, facing you. You felt like crying but you weren't going to do it. Not again.

Perdiccas let the tears fall from his eyes, finally letting all the feelings that were consuming him out.

''I can't bear for you to marry him...'' He sniffled, ''I can't think of him touching you, of him kissing you without me wanting to kill my own King and friend, I... I can't avoid feeling uncontrolled jealousy at the thought of you being with him...''

You started to cry at his words. You opened your eyes and stood up, hugging him tightly. Perdiccas wrapped his arms around you, crying along with you.

''I don't want to marry him!'' You whimpered, ''I don't! I can't...''

Perdiccas tightened his hold on you.

''You don't have to marry him...'' He whispered in your ear.

His words just made you feel like screaming. You had no choice, couldn't he see that? You were at a crossroads and you knew the only choice was to marry Alexander and you didn't want to.

You didn't want to be his wife or his Queen. You didn't want any of this, the only thing you wanted was to be home. With your family, your friends and your cat.

Instead you were stuck in the 4th century BC. and with a King with serious drinking, anger and megalomania problems who wanted to marry you. It seemed like a very bad joke.

''What do I do, Perdiccas?'' You squeezed him, placing your head against his shoulder.

He was silent for a few minutes.

''Perdiccas?'' You called him again.

''...Marry me.''

You jerked away and almost fell in the process. ''What?!''

Perdiccas looked at you seriously, ''Marry me.''

You laughed bitterly, ''Are you kidding me? Because if you are, that's not funny!''

''I'm not kidding, (Y/N). I want you to marry me.'' He replied seriously, hoping you would say yes.

''You-'' You couldn't even respond properly, too shocked by his words.

Perdiccas approached you and took your hands, looking at your face with love. ''Marry me, (Y/N). I beg you to say yes.''

Part of you wanted to say yes, that you would marry him, but you knew you couldn't. Although being Perdiccas' wife would certainly be more enjoyable than Alexander's, you couldn't put his life at risk. You had seen what Alexander had done to Cleitus, you couldn't even imagine what he would do to Perdiccas if you accepted his proposal.

''I can't...''

Perdiccas squeezed his hands, not enough for it to hurt. ''Why not, (Y/N)?'' His voice was desperate and full of pain and it broke your heart even more.

''Alexander, he could hurt you! I won't take the risk of you dying or suffering something worse.''

''I don't mind. I don't care if I have to die, I don't mind dying if I have the honor of having you as my wife.'' He rested his forehead against yours, ''I don't mind because I'd rather suffer the worst torture of I have to see you married to my friend. Than to see you have his children.''

You smiled a little, ''But I care.''

''Let's run away then!'' He said hastily, ''Let's go far away from all this, from everyone, from Alexander. A place where just you and I could be together. Maybe we can go to the place where you lived, where no one would recognize us.''

You blinked in surprise, ''Do you want to leave Alexander's army? Become a deserter?''

''For you, yes.'' He replied without any hesitation in his voice. You shook your head.

''Perdiccas, look, I-'' You stopped talking quickly when someone entered the tent. You quickly walked away from the general when you noticed that it was Ptolemy who had entered.

Ptolemy looked at you suspiciously and shook his head, muttering something to himself. He approached where you were.

''Alexander wants to talk to you.'' He simply said, alternating his gaze between you and Perdiccas. You learned that Ptolemy knew something had happened between you, but he decided to keep it to himself.

''With me?'' You asked just to be sure. Ptolemy nodded.

You stared at Perdiccas who looked like he wanted to strangle Ptolemy. You said goodbye quickly and left the tent without saying anything. Maybe it was an act of cowardice, but you couldn't look at Perdiccas now.

Not without wanting to grab him and say yes to his offer.

''What did you do?'' Ptolemy asked as you left. He crossed his arms and faced his friend with a seriousness only seen in battle.

Perdiccas frowned, ''What do you mean?'' Fortunately his tears had stopped and dried, the only thing that gave him away was his red and slightly swollen eyes.

Ptolemy sighed loudly and looked up, ''I am no fool, Perdiccas. I know something happened between you and I want to know what it is.''

''And why should I owe you any explanation?''

''Because I'm your friend and I care about you enough to not want you to die or end up like Cleitus.'' Ptolemy replied, impatiently.

''Nothing happened.'' Perdiccas replied coldly.

''And why then don't I believe it?'' Ptolemy's voice was cold and serious, matching Perdiccas's.

Perdiccas shrugged, ''Believe what you want. Nothing happened between us, I was just talking to (Y/N) about the Cleitus situation. That is all.''

Ptolemy uncrossed his arms and stared at his friend intensely. Perdiccas shifted uncomfortably under Ptolemy's penetrating gaze. ''I didn't know you needed to be so close to talk.''

Perdiccas felt an absurd desire to strangle Ptolemy right then and there.

''I didn't know you were so nosy, friend.'' Perdiccas sneered. Ptolemy laughed humorlessly.

''Believe it or not, I'm protecting you and (Y/N).''

''Oh, really? And why would you do that?''

''Because I care. You're my friend and (Y/N) is... Important for some reason, I'm trying to take care of you. I don't want you to get hurt or end up getting stuck with a spear.'' Ptolemy explained and his gaze softened.

Perdiccas didn't respond, he just looked at the cot where Cleitus was lying unconscious.

''You can't have her, Perdiccas.''

Perdiccas faced Ptolemy again, his blue eyes filled with determination and hatred.

''That's what we're going to see.''

You were in front of Alexander's tent. You knew you should go in but you didn't want to. You didn't want to have to face him, not after everything that happened.

''Don't be a coward, (Y/N).'' You said to yourself and without flinching, you entered the tent with shaky legs.

You looked around curiously. It was a King's tent, indeed. Some candelabras flickered with fire, some chairs and a large table were in the right corner and some trunks were placed in front of a cot.

And on that cot, Alexander lay, looking at you intensely. You swallowed hard and fought the urge to run away.

''You came.'' Was the only thing he said. Alexander looked horrible, his chiton was dirty and stained with blood, Cleitus's blood. His blond hair was messy, his gaze drooped and he held a glass of wine in his right hand.

''I came.'' You replied, feeling extremely uncomfortable.

Alexander stared at you for a few seconds and pointed to a jug of wine next to him, ''Do you want some?''

''No, thank you. I've had enough to drink today.''

''Hmm...''

You took a deep breath, trying to find the courage to say what you wanted to say. During the walk to his tent, you knew what you had to do, what you had to say, even if you hated it to your core.

''I-''

''You-''

You both spoke at the same time and stopped at the same time. You cleared your throat and said, ''Y-You can talk first.''

''Alright.'' He cleared his throat and began, ''I want to apologize for what happened today. It probably scared you and you should know that that wasn't my intention, I lost control today and I intend for that not to happen again.''

You looked at him, suspicious, ''It's okay.'' No, it wasn't but you needed to pretend. At least for a while.

Alexander stood up, staggering towards you. You fought the urge to step back, or run away. He walked over and came face to face with you.

''I am really sorry, (Y/N).''

Alexander touched your face with the palm of his hand and caressed it lightly. You took a deep breath, gathered all the courage you had and said without hesitation, ''I'm going to marry you.''

The affection stopped and Alexander smiled widely. Before you could say anything, he broke the distance between you and kissed you passionately.

You squealed in surprise at the kiss and tried to pull away, but Alexander pressed you against him. You closed your eyes and fought the urge to cry and gave in to Alexander's possessive kiss.

You prayed to the gods that you could leave soon. Before the wedding, preferably.

— lady l: I'm not going to say anything more than this: THE WEDDING IS COMING AND SO IS THE DRAMA WITH IT!!

And Perdiccas... Why does you propose to an involuntarily engaged woman? I hope you enjoyed it, forgive me for any mistakes until the next chapter!

#yandere history #history #yandere historical characters #the lost queen #tlq #yandere alexander te great #yandere alexander the great x reader #alexander the great #alexander the great x reader #yandere #long fic #fanfic

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dirtysvthoughts · 4 months

Note

i keep thinking of edging jihoon. just hearing his soft whines, him begging to please make him cum he's been good please. and he's all flushed from the chest up and he's beautiful with his long wavy hair haloing his head. his eyes tearing up from the bordering pleasure/pain of your touch but still holds so much adoration for you doing this to him. and when you finally let him cum, he'll manage to pull you in to a kiss and just murmur words of thanks and love, all intelligible cos fuck how do you manage to make him feel so much and this good and how you take him so high all the time and he's never imagined surrendering control like this with anyone aside from you and all the hours of edging is so worth it, so fucking worth it.

first and foremost before we get started, HAPPY NEW YEAR BESTIES! 2023 was such a great year for this account, thanks for sticking by if you were with me in january or if you followed me on december 31st! y’all are what makes dirtysvthoughts an amazing space and i can’t wait to continue to grow and make this an even better, sexy, healthy space for us! here’s to more dirty seventeen thoughts in 2024! 😋

———

now to get into this, anon you really do love me 🥹🤍 this is so sexy! edging jihoon would be so hot for the both of you, god his noises would be so pretty and every little whine and moan he let out would just go straight to your core and have you clenching around him, which would make him whine and moan even more 😩

gosh, just thinking about what you said and how his hair would fall in his eyes while he begs, cause as much as he loves the pleasure, he’s shy cause no one makes him feel this way but you. he’s so in love with you, and the thought of you pleasuring him in and out of the bed has him coming so hard, embracing you as soon as he empties his load out, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as you kiss his neck and cheek. he loves it, you love it, you love each other so fucking much 💖

#seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #woozi smut #woozi imagines #woozi imagine #woozi fanfic #lee jihoon smut #lee jihoon imagines #lee jihoon imagine

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dirtytransmasc · 1 year

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How would tonowari help with spider? What activities would they do together

@windhashirapiller this also answers you're ask

he's the stoic dad, so I think a lot of his love language is quiet personal time; walks on the shoreline, under the stars, one arm around his kid, telling stories from his past. watching spider sleep, one hand in his hair, nothing but love and bliss on his face. being the dad spider looks to when he's looking for recognition or admiration, and tonowari is always there to give him the proud dad smile.

very defensive of spider, but unlike ronal, instead of being an aggressive force that will make threats anytime anywhere, he is a daring and formidable force that stands behind him, daring anyone to bring harm to his boy.

when they first adopt spider he's the one to have The Talk with him. in my mind they adopt him after the neglect causes him to do harm to himself (he overworks himself, ignores his needs; he doesn't eat, doesn't drink, doesn't sleep. its when his body eventually goes out that tonowari and ronal step in), so spider is already on edge, physically and emotionally on edge, and trauma responding (pushing people away, getting aggressive to shield his weakness, expecting the worst of each and every interaction). so tonowari has to sit there and try to explain to this terrified kid, that he deserves better, that he is loved (despite feeling unlovable), that they want him. he has to console this scared child who has never truly known love. that night has forever scarred the great metakyina chief, just thinking about the look in his child's face, brings tears to his eyes. he's vowed to never, not even over his dead body, let spider feel like that ever again.

I think him being the stoic dad verbally, makes him the much more physical dad. he's always cupping spider's chin, embracing him, pressing their foreheads together (technically mask and forehead).

he speaks through his eyes, and spider has learned to read him like a book. there's always so much love and awe on his face.

he learns spider's favorite things; favorite foods, favorite types of beads for his jewelry making, favorite plants for his paints, etc. and he brings them to spider without him asking.

he was cautious with saying "I see you" or calling him son cause he knew spider had a complicated relationship with all his past father figures. when he adopts spider he does it knowing he may never bee his father in spiders heart (if anyone has seen the dragon prince, think callum and harrow; both want to be father/son so badly it is palpably painful, yet due to simple miscommunications, neither is aware of this, and actually think both parties want the opposite). so when the dam finally breaks (maybe spider gets hurt and tonowari can't contain his worry, or spider is desperate for any sort of paternal affection and he just flips out and clings to tonowari) it's devastating (but sorta in the best way possible). you'd think they're a father and son reuniting after the most trying of separations; big fat tears from both sides, tonowari won;t put spider down, spiders clinging to his father like he's gonna disappear. after that, tonowari never stops telling spider he sees him, that he loves him, that he is his son.

I have to say it, tonowari is a fishing dad, he takes spider hunting on the skimwing, just the two of them.

like ronal, he has many beads on his song chord for spider, but they are much more frequent. out of all of things in his life, nothing compares to his children. they keep him sane amongst all the duties of being chief, and with the circumstances that surround spider, its even more true. he finds any reason to add more and more beads for his children, especially spider, so when he reflects on this time in his life, it doesn't seem so bad.

he will play dumb so spider has the opportunity to teach him, he likes hearing how his son talks about things, how he thinks, and he loves the confidence it gives spider to teach someone else. Sometimes he genuinely learns things, other times he gains a new perspective; but no matter the case, its builds spider up, makes him more likely to speak within the village. (spider has adhd in my mind, and I know tonowari indulges every infodump that kid gives him, no matter how well he knows what he's talking about)

he takes spider under his wing just as he did ao'nung; he teaches him to rule, to think for the village, to be a good diplomat. he teaches the boys to work together to solve conflicts because if he gets his way, if all goes well, ao'nung will become chief with spider as his right-hand man so to speak. his boys futures are of the utmost priority to him.

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inkdemonapologist · 9 months

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What are your thoughts on the characterization of the ink demon himself?

In BatDR? Ehhhhh…….

There’s plenty of room for interesting headcanons, especially what with the Ink Demon and Bendy behaving so differently. A lot of folks have imagined it as a Jekyll & Hyde type situation, which is neat, or just an internal Venom-esque “the souls of the innocent/two bagels” dynamic. Or there’s the interpretation that the Ink Demon deep down wants the love and acceptance he gets as Baby Bendy; he’s the same guy, but his emotions have been messed with and he’s being treated differently so he reacts differently, which is a take I actually really like.

Just looking at the Ink Demon on his own, it’s SO easy to read him as a teenager, thinking he’s so cool and edgy talking about his Dark Kingdom, not looking like Bendy anymore b/c hes decided wanting to look like Bendy is cringy and he’s TOUGH AND POINTY NOW – then making The Dumbest Mistake at the end by letting Audrey possess him because he thinks it’ll make him more powerful, and having no idea how to fix it, but still trying to act cool. The idea of BatIM’s Ink Demon being the equivalent of a frustrated child lashing out, and BatDR’s Ink Demon being a teenager who has internalised that he’ll be harmed if he’s not powerful and has embraced being evil and violent and hated as a shield, is an interpretation that makes sense to me. There was this GREAT fanart I vaguely recall but cannot find again of the Ink Demon with a symbolic birdcage in the middle of his chest where the little Bendy rocked peacefully on a swing – Bendy as the piece of him that’s scared and hurt, a piece he’s pushed from sight more and more in favour of making himself more sharp and cruel, but now can’t always hide, is a REALLY INTERESTING thematic concept.

But the truth is that we didn’t get any of those things --

Bendy and the Ink Demon being the same creature is a really interesting development that is literally never touched on beyond explaining how and why it happened. What does Bendy think of the Ink Demon form? What does the Ink Demon think of the Bendy form? Are they two consciousnesses, or the same guy? Really obvious questions that you’d think would be inherently guaranteed to come up due to the premise, but they don’t! Audrey discovers that Baby Bendy and the Ink Demon are the same entity and seems to feel exactly nothing about this? She still supports ending the Ink Demon, even though he’s the little cartoon devil she made friends with and said she didn’t want to hurt… it just seems like there should at least be a conflicted feeling somewhere. The Ink Demon himself is portrayed as Just Evil, and nothing challenges that, to a level that’s so bizarre that it really feels like the NARRATIVE ITSELF is baffled by the idea that anyone might question the basic idea of "Scary Demon Bad, Cute Bendy Good". And I’ve talked before about how strange Joey’s final speech comes across once you notice this, as he brushes the Demon off as an “evil face” while telling Audrey how special and perfect and loved she is, and the whole moment is framed as though we’re meant to be encouraged by Joey, and not wincing at the way he disregards the demon he mistreated and abandoned.

The Ink Demon has been regarded as a soulless, monstrous mistake by various characters throughout this whole series, locked up and now literally, unambiguously tortured because of it, and it’s easy to imagine the story that assertion suggests – one where the Ink Demon’s cruelty is the result of him being cast out and treated with disgust by humans, like Mewtwo or some kind of inky Frankenstein. But in BatDR, we never see any hint that the initial reading of “monstrous mistake” is incorrect. As if locking him up was the correct, smart thing to do, and creating Baby Bendy to trap him and cause him pain was a good move, and the only problem is that it can’t be made permanent.

I think the closest we get to seeing something more from the Demon is his line to Audrey about being a mistake and a monster, “like me.” I really like his speech in that scene… He could simply be trying to manipulate her, but it’s so easy to read as projection, as if the only way the Ink Demon could reveal his own betrayed feelings is by accusing someone else of them. And then… nothing really comes of it. Everyone continues regarding the Demon as a purely evil monster. When the Ink Demon lashes out at Joey, it’s not framed as a reaction to being rejected so explicitly, it’s just… trying to stop him because Joey’s getting through to the Demon’s intended prey (with bonus points for "the wretch is mine" making him feel particularly scummy). You can still imagine he’s motivated by those things, but I really feel like you have to come into the story with that assumption in order to see it there.

This isn’t saying that the Demon has to not be a bad guy for his characterisation to be compelling – like, for example, Audrey could just have a short moment of realising that if Bendy IS the Ink Demon, there must be more to the Demon than we can see – but decide he’s too dangerous to risk giving up the chance to stop him (WHICH SURE WOULD BE INTERESTING GIVEN THE TRAJECTORY OF HER FATHER’S LIFE, HUH). He can still be a violent monster who is creepy at Audrey, tries to kill her, lies to her, and then eats(???) her. He doesn’t have to behave sympathetically for the narrative to acknowledge that he’s been treated unfairly, and the other characters don’t have to give him a chance at redemption in order to be believably good people. But it feels weird that…. the narrative never seems to notice??? Anywhere???? ESPECIALLY AFTER MENTIONING THE TORTURE EXPERIMENTS??? I think Malice’s writing in this game was incoherent, but the narrative’s treatment of her was humane; she’s violent and cruel and has to be stopped, but the character who keeps having to drive a sword through her torso still feels for her and notices her pain. It’s bafflingly wild that Audrey never really gets a moment like this for the demon.

#bendy and the dark revival #batdr #ink demon #we all write on the walls #i know you have questions you always do #this is still such a wild choice #like you're constantly waiting for that moment where someone gets it but it never comes #hilariously despite my feelings here my username was not originally based on feelings about the ink demon #i wanted to be sammy and thought inkdemonapologist would be a funny username for the ink demon's prophet to choose on tumblr dot com

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cevansbrat0007 · 1 year

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Brat Games

Summary: Full story! It’s all fun and games when you find yourself in the mood to embrace your inner brat. Andy Barber x Bratty Reader

Warnings: Smut, Shenanigans, Bratty Reader, Grumpy Andy, Daddy Kink, Spanking, Sex Toys, Sexual Themes, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Well, I finally managed to finish this story! I hope it's okay. Please let me know what you think. Part of my ongoing Part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are appreciated. Semi-proofread. All mistakes are my own.

___

You’d woken up this morning in a mood. But not just any kind of mood. You wanted to play. Too bad the man you were playing with didn’t know that you two were in the middle of a game. Oh, well. You were sure he would figure it out.

Eventually.

___

Your fun begins innocently enough.

You lean back in your seat, your stomach threatening to burst if you tried to eat even one more bite of your stuffed brioche french toast. Brunch at the North Street Grille never disappointed, that was for sure.

Sighing, you take a look around the restaurant hoping to catch sight of your boyfriend. He’d stepped outside to take a call from the office roughly ten minutes ago and still hadn’t returned. It was annoying, yes. But his prolonged absence also gave you an idea.

You were about to do something that was going to irritate the hell out of your man. Something that he had never let you do in all your months of dating.

Take care of the check.

“Still enjoying everything, ma’am?” Your waitress asks as she walks by your table. “Or would you like me to get you a box?”

“I’m finished, thanks. But I think my boyfriend might need one.” Casting a brief glance over your shoulder, you reach into your bag to pull out your debit card. “Could I go ahead and pay real quick? He never lets me get the bill so…” You shrug and offer her a conspiratorial wink.

That’s right. You were gonna pay for your meal, his old-fashioned objections be damned.

“No problem. Be right back with your card and that box.” The young woman hustles away before returning a few moments later with the necessary items. After thanking her and signing the receipt, you slide your card back into your purse. Just in time for Andy to rejoin you at the table.

“Everything alright?” You chirp before taking a sip of your now lukewarm cappuccino.

“It’s fine.” Andy scrubs one big hand over his neatly trimmed beard. “More than fine, actually. That was Ahmed calling. He thinks we’ve got enough cause to petition for the judge in this case for a recusal, which is great fucking news.”

“Oh, well, yay! I guess.” While you didn’t know the specifics, if he was happy, then you were happy.

“Trust me. That ignorant fuck, Baxter, has no business on the bench.” Your man takes a bite of his bacon. “Mm…thanks for grabbing me a to-go box, little love. I’ll pay and then we can get out of here. But I will need to stop by the office for a bit before we get on with our day.”

“Sounds like you need to work.” You flash him an easy smile as you begin to gather your things and stand up. “How about you just drop me off at home? Or, come to think of it, I can walk back.”

“Not happening, baby girl.” Andy stands up too, tossing his used napkin on the table. He takes a moment to stretch his arms above his head, his sinewy muscles bunching and flexing beneath his maroon colored shirt. “I won’t be long. I just need to grab a couple files.”

“Andy Bear, it’s only like a fifteen minute walk from here to my place. I do it all the time.” You swing your purse strap over your shoulder. “Really. It sounds like you need to concentrate. And I’d probably just be in the way…”

Your Big Man pins you with a hard look, letting you know that he disagrees with this entire conversation. It was no secret that your man wanted you with him practically all of the time. He was even bugging you to move in with him. Not that you were complaining.

“Yeah, not gonna happen. Let me go pay for this and –” Andy looks down at the receipt in his hand, finally noticing your handwriting scrawled across the signature line. “What did you do?”

“My treat, handsome.” Rising on your tiptoes you plant a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Don’t forget your box.” With that, you turn and scamper out the front door.

“Damn it, Y/N!” You don’t have to look over your shoulder to know your unhappy Andy Bear is hot on your heels. Cursing your short legs, you speed walk all the way to his Audi. Which, of course, just happens to be parked at the far end of the freaking lot.

You feel Andy’s hand grip the waistband of your jean shorts, tugging you backwards and into his side. “Why would you –? We’ve been over this, baby girl.” Andy growls, his tone rife with displeasure. “When I take you out, I pay.” He uses his big body to box you in, pressing you against the passenger door of his SUV. “That’s how this works between you and I.”

You were pretty sure that you were the only person to ever willingly pick an argument with Andrew Barber outside of a courtroom. If he were being honest, it was part of what made you so attractive to him.

“But Andy Bear,” you pout. “You never let me pay for anything. It’s time for you to step into the twenty-first century a little, honey. You can be so old fashioned sometimes.”

“So?” He grunts, raising one dark brow.

“So…I’m just trying to get you to bend the rules a tiny, tiny bit.”

“No.” His rebuttal is sharp even as his soft lips go to graze the shell of your ear. “I don’t care what century we live in, princess. I’m a man who believes in taking care of his woman. Which means that I pay. Understand?”

Instead of responding you choose to stick your tongue out at him. Which then prompts him to lightly grip your chin, forcing you to meet his intoxicating gaze.

“When Daddy asks you a question he expects an answer.”

“Yes, okay.” You whisper as the pad of his thumb delicately traces the curve of your bottom lip. “But I also think you’re just mad that I beat you to the punch, Big Man.” You give this thumb a playful nip.

“Oh, I am. Try that shit with me again and I’ll take your debit card and keep it in my wallet for the rest of the day. Now get your pretty self in the car, baby, before I decide to bend you over the hood and redden that tempting ass just enough to make sitting a hardship.”

Frowning, you allow him to open your door and assist you into the passenger seat. And then he makes a show of handing you his food before buckling you in.

You were a strong, independent woman who was perfectly capable of dealing with her own seatbelt. So why did it make your core spasm whenever he took charge like that? You needed to have a conversation with your inner feminist stat.

“Thank you.” Your man huffs as he shuts the door before walking around to the driver’s side. “Such a little brat first thing in the morning.”

___

Two hours later…

Andy bristles in the seat next to you as you do your best to tamp down a fit of giggles. While he’d kept his promise to make his trip to the office a short one, he wasn’t very happy with you at the moment.

And not because you had snuck and paid for brunch. Oh no. He’d gotten over that one. Mostly.

“Put your shirt back on, Y/N.” He grits out as he tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “Now, please.”

“But I’m hot!” You whine. “It’s, like, 92° outside and I’m practically melting. Look at me!” You tell him, dramatically fanning yourself with your periwinkle-colored blouse. To be honest, you weren’t sure what his problem was. Afterall, it wasn’t like you were walking around naked. You were still rocking your navy blue cami, complete with a black push-up bra layered underneath.

“I can see the outline of your fucking nipples. And if I can, then so could Ahmed. Poor man practically choked on his tongue the moment we walked in.” He hisses under his breath.

“It’s a natural reaction to the A/C, Andrew. And how was all your co-worker’s stammering and stuttering my fault?” You ask as you lean back in your seat, unconsciously drawing his attention to your cleavage. “It’s not like he hasn’t met me before.”

“Yeah, but it’s the first time you’ve come in with the girls on display like that. Between them and that ass in those tight little shorts…” Your man trails off as he stares hungrily at your pouting nipples, nearly veering into the other lane.

Yeah, you knew you were slowly driving him nuts. You just didn’t care.

“I’m gonna need you to cover my tits before we hit the grocery store, baby girl. I don’t want or need a bunch of slack-jawed fuckers staring at what’s mine.” The gleam in his lets you know that your Big Man is far from joking.

“Who says it’s yours?”

“The fuck?” His head whips towards you as he swings the car into an empty parking space.

“What?” You innocently bat your lashes at him. “Last time I checked, this was my body, which means that I am the keeper of this temple, boo.”

Andy’s bright blue eyes zero in on your mouth as his own lip curls in some semblance of a snarl.

“Now, that’s where you’re wrong, little love. Your body is my fucking temple.” One big hand goes to grip the back of your neck, applying just enough pressure to let you know that he means business. “And I worship at its altar every goddamn day.”

“Oh.” Your breath hitches in your throat.

“I don’t know why you seem so intent on pushing my buttons today; I really don’t. But I feel the need to make something very, very clear here.” He takes a deep breath as he fights to maintain control. “Just because it’s my job to uphold the law doesn’t mean I won’t toss you in the backseat, splay those sweet thighs wide, and feast on that disrespectful cunt until you remember your place.” Andy possessively nuzzles the crook of your neck, his sharp teeth nipping and sucking at the tender flesh.

“Now, are you gonna be good and put your shirt back on for me? Or do you want everyone in this parking lot to hear how fucking pretty you sound when you cum on my tongue?” He growls, the scruff of his beard softly scraping against your cheek.

Your eyes flit to the back of the car as you process his words. Your handsome District Attorney was never one to bluff. Wordlessly, you shrug your blouse back onto your shoulders and quickly fasten the buttons.

“Good girl.” He purrs, watching through heavily lidded eyes as you stubbornly leave the top three undone. “Tell you what. If you’re still hot when we get back to my place, you have my permission to prance around naked for as long as you want.”

“Al-alright.” You mumble, unconsciously rubbing your thighs together as you try your best to quell the ache forming between them.

You win this round, Andrew Barber.

___

Your trip to the store to grab the items you need to make grilled steak fajitas is largely uneventful. After your discussion in the car, you’re tempted to remain on your best behavior.

And you do. For the most part. Until you decide to wander away from your boyfriend while he’s busy searching for your precious queso fresco. Because you would be damned before you settled for something like basic shredded cheddar cheese.

Oh no. According to Andrew Barber, you were just born to be difficult.

Since he’s otherwise occupied, you make your way over to the produce aisle to grab a pineapple. And maybe a little extra attention if you could swing it.

“Excuse me…hi.” Waving, you stop someone who looks to be a manager as he’s in the process of replenishing apples.

“Hello, Miss. How, uh…” The dark haired man goes to adjust his glasses as his eyes stray to your chest. “How can I help you?”

“I’m looking for something…sweet to enjoy with my dinner tonight.”

He nods along, looking just the teensiest bit flustered. Smiling, you reach over to pick up a cantaloupe, followed by a honeydew melon. Holding one in each hand, you raise them so that they’re level with his bordering on inappropriate gaze.

“And since I haven’t ever been to this particular Wegmen’s before, I’m a little curious about your…melons. I - I’m afraid I’m not very good when it comes to picking out fruit.” You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

This whole thing definitely had cheesy porno intro written all over it.

“Okay.” By now the man’s face is tinged with red. And if you’re not mistaken, he’s also starting to sweat.

“Do these seem…firm enough to you?”

“I, uh, I think so, Miss.” He coughs, nervously fidgeting with his tie as he watches you give them an enthusiastic squeeze. “They look…great.”

“Yeah? They do seem nice and plump.” You pretend to study them as if weighing your options. Good lord you were probably going to hell for fucking with this poor man, but the train was in motion and it couldn’t be helped. “You think they’re a good size? I’m looking for maximum enjoyment, you know?”

“Well, if I’m being honest, those, um - they look like the perfect handful.” His crooked grin lets you know that he likes where this conversation is heading. “But I’d be happy to show you some of the new produce we’ve got in the back.”

Woah, buddy. Pump those brakes!

“That’s very kind of you, but–”

“Y/N - there you are!” You jump at the sound of your name. “Been looking all over for you, baby.” Turning to face him, you do your best to appear as innocent as possible.

“Hiya, Andy Bear. This kind gentleman was just giving me his opinion on my melons. See?” You do a little shimmy. “Think they’re ripe enough?”

Honest to God, you cannot remember the last time you saw your man’s face turn so many pretty colors. Mostly shades of red, but boy is it a sight to behold.

“Jesus Christ, woman.” He rasps, his expression one of pure exasperation as he takes the fruit from you before handing it off to the worker at your side. “Sorry, but we won’t be needing these.”

“But…”

“We’re leaving.” Andy’s gruff, no nonsense tone is enough to make you pout as he holds his hand out to you. “Now.”

“But I wanted to grab some pineapple for you to throw on the grill with the steaks.” You explain as you begin inching towards the display. “By the way, did you know that some experts say men should consider drinking pineapple juice before they go to bed…for the health benefits?” You watch as that one vein along his temple begins to throb spectacularly. “I can tell you that article definitely left a sweet taste in my mouth, that’s for sure.”

Oops. Too much?

Your question is answered for you when you feel Andrew’s big body suddenly looming over you. “Why do you keep trying to provoke me, sweetheart?” His nimble fingers go to brush a flyaway curl off the back of your neck, eliciting a shiver. “Hm?”

“I - I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, Andy Bear.” You feel a hand sink into the back pocket of your shorts before painfully squeezing your ass. “Ow!”

“Last warning, little girl...” He does it again, ignoring the way you rise on your toes with a whimper. “Knock it the fuck off. Now put that shit in the cart and let’s go.”

You resume pouting, but manage to do as he asks. Quietly hating the fact that you can’t do anything about the sting in your poor bottom because you’re out in public.

Overgrown, handsome ass sourpuss.

Andy keeps a solid grip on your waist the entire time you’re in the checkout line, only letting up when you two are loading things onto the conveyor belt. Handing you his card, he tells you to go ahead and pay while he runs off to the bathroom.

So you do. With your debit card. But instead of going for immediate gratification this time, you take the receipt and wrap it around the black card he had initially given you. You had no idea when he would notice, but you knew that he would one of these days. And when he did…

Well, you’d deal with it.

But until then, you decide to keep the game going by pushing the cart outside and loading up the car. Sometimes it was so unbelievably easy to mess with your man. It really didn’t take much with Andrew Barber, especially where you were concerned.

___

The ride back to your place is mostly quiet. Well, Andy talks. But you’re not able to respond because you’re too busy sucking on one of those fucking jawbreakers he keeps in the center console for moments when you’ve been…acting up.

Funny enough, he’d actually noticed your little switcheroo with the cards earlier than you’d expected. But only after he’d found you sitting in the driver’s seat of his car with the windows down and the A/C on full blast. At least you’d left your shirt on this time.

See? Progress.

Yeah, not to him. That was another rule of his. He always drove. And on the rare occasions when you were the one to pick him up, he pumped your gas. Rain or shine. When it came down to it, you really were a lucky girl.

And you knew it.

But that didn’t mean that you couldn’t get a little sassy with him now and again – which is exactly what you'd done when he’d snarled at you to get your little ass over to the other side before he tore it up. Which explained why you were currently sulking with a mouthful of hard candy.

And, to top it off, he had to drop you at your spot after all because he had to head back into the office. Looks like things were moving quickly all of a sudden, and he was apparently due in court first thing in the morning. Talk about a bummer.

You’re still not done with the fucking thing when he finally pulls up in front of your home. With a sigh, Andy puts the car in park before climbing out of his seat and jogging over to your side to assist you.

“Hm. Still pouting, huh?” Andy murmurs, chuckling when you don’t reply. Besides, you were only following instructions. You attempt to swerve him when he leans in for a kiss, turning your head so that his lips brush your cheek.

“Hey. Don’t be like that, baby girl.” Wrapping his arms around your middle, he pulls you flush against his hard body. And although you try to resist, it’s difficult to put up much of a fight when he smells so damned good.

“Hmph.” You grunt, even as you bury your face against the fabric of his shirt.

“I’m sorry, but it looks like I really do have to work. We’ll pick things up tomorrow.” One of his big hands begins lightly rubbing your back. “Including discussing whatever's got you acting like such a brat today. Understand?”

You nod, slipping a territorial hand beneath his shirt.

“Thank you. And in the meantime, Daddy is going to Venmo you the amount of whatever it was you spent today. Plus a little extra so you can order yourself something for dinner tonight since we’re pushing off the fajitas until tomorrow.” He pulls back so that he can look into your eyes. “You gonna be my good girl and accept it without giving me a hard time?“

Again you nod, trying not to get lost in those big, beautiful orbs.

“Wonderful.” His head dips to capture your lips for a brief kiss. “I’ll call you tonight after I’ve taken care of what I need to prepare for court and you’ve had time to adjust that little attitude.”

He takes another kiss, right as you finally finish with that damned jawbreaker. This time he gently swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, before claiming your mouth for his own. He groans softly, reveling in your sweet taste as his hands go to your ass, tugging you closer.

“Okay, Daddy.” You whisper, feeling a touch lightheaded when you finally break apart. “I’ll talk to you tonight.”

“Count on it.” Andy playfully tugs on a curl that’s escaped your bun. “Now go on inside, okay? And be sure to lock the door behind you too.”

“Bye.” You steal another kiss.

“Goodbye, baby girl. Talk to you tonight.”

___

True to his word, your Andy Bear sends you your money back and then some. You’re tempted to return it, but instead you decide to use it to buy the ingredients for your famous lemon pound cake – made from scratch.

The secret? A package of instant lemon pudding and a couple teaspoons of lemon zest.

And by the time he manages to FaceTime you that evening your mood has certainly shifted. You spend much of your thirty-minute call talking and teasing one another before signing off for the night with a little dance to the tune of T-shirt & Panties by Adrina Moore.

Yeah, Andrew Barber loved the hell out of you. Even when you spent the day being a little fucking brat. Which was understandably a good thing.

Especially since you weren’t done.

The next morning…

Knowing that your boyfriend would be busy with court proceedings for most of the day, you quietly let yourself into his house. After getting your things settled, you change into something into one of the two outfits you’d brought along to aid you in this particular bout of shenanigans. Namely, some brand new lingerie.

Giggling, you disappear down the hall in the direction of his study. Once inside, you take your time putting together the compact tripod for your mobile phone before adjusting your camera and lighting.

Deep down, you knew that you should probably quit while you were ahead. But, in all honesty, where was the fun in that?

Having previously settled on several classy poses thanks to a little practice last night, it doesn’t take you long to capture what you need. And you managed to successfully take them all without falling on your head.

Once your man got through bitching and moaning about your being naughty, you were sure that he would come to appreciate your efforts. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

You normally felt bad about interrupting him in court, unless it was an emergency. But today you would force yourself to ignore those feelings in favor of shenanigans.

Biting your lip, you open up your message thread to fire off a good morning text. You kick things off simply enough, writing: Good morning, Daddy. I’m just over here waiting patiently for you to bring home a victory today.

And then you hit send, which leads to the following exchange:

After slipping in the dreaded b-word to your conversation, you decide to put your phone on silent. While it was true that your boyfriend often claimed to be man things to you, being your buddy wasn't one of them. And it annoyed the crap out of him whenever you referred to him as such.

As you go about tidying up, you consider making use of the toy you knew was tucked away upstairs in the nightstand by the bed. While it would definitely do you good to relieve some of that ache between your thighs, you would force yourself to be patient.

However…

That doesn’t stop you from heading up there anyway, under the pretense of dropping off your overnight bag. And then wouldn’t you know it?

The damned thing somehow makes its way out of the drawer and into your mouth. Ugh! And to make matters worse, you accidentally manage to snap a photo of yourself sucking on it, right as you hollow-out your cheeks.

What a damned shame!

Talk about a true comedy of errors. It’s so funny that you end up giggling uncontrollably for the next ten minutes. But you know what makes it even better? The moment your thumb slips and hits send.

After that, it becomes downright hysterical.

___

Later that afternoon…

Letting out a yawn, you lean back in your chair and stretch before deciding to call it a day. You’d just spent the last several hours going back and forth with a client about a project that was supposed to be in its final stages.

As in almost fucking finished.

But they’d since decided to shelve half of the damned concept before pivoting and heading in a different direction. Which was fine, so long as they were willing to pay.

Pressing the heels palms over your eyes you reason that you've done enough. You really did love your job. But sometimes it could also be unbelievably taxing.

Powering down your laptop, you decide to go ahead and ice the pound cake that is currently cooling on the counter. While you’re at it, you go ahead and prepare everything you need for the fajitas as well. Since the steaks were already doing their thing in the marinade you’d thrown together earlier, there really wasn’t much left for you to do outside of slicing vegetables.

Once that’s done, it only takes you a few minutes to whip up the simple glaze. After all, it was just powdered sugar, condensed milk, lemon juice, and a dash of vanilla extract. Whisk together until smooth and then bam!

Sweet and sticky deliciousness in a bowl.

You’re in the process of slowly drizzling it over top of the cake when you hear Andy walk through the front door. Moments later, he strides into the kitchen clutching a box under his arm.

“Hey there, Andy Bear!” You chirp as you go to set the bowl in the sink before rinsing your hands and drying them on a towel. Earlier mischief forgotten, you launch yourself into his waiting arms. “I missed you!”

“Did you?” He asks, tilting his head. “That's interesting.”

“What do you mean?” Confused, you place your hands on either side of his face, trying to pull him in for a kiss. But instead of cooperating, he sets you back on your feet with a sigh.

“Don’t worry about it, baby girl." Andy sweetly boops your nose before removing his suit jacket. "Honestly, it’s my fault for not taking care of it yesterday when I had the chance.”

“Huh? I’m afraid you’ve lost me.” Rising on your tiptoes you offer up your lips again, only to pout when he denies you. Again.

What the hell? And what was in that box on the table.

“Just let me go and get changed and then I’ll deal with everything.” Shaking his head, your man lets out a dark chuckle as he turns towards the stairs. “Including you.” And then he’s gone, disappearing around the corner in the direction of his bedroom.

Oh shit.

Your stomach drops as every single bratty act you’ve committed over the last thirty-or-so hours suddenly comes flooding back. You really should’ve gone home to wash your hair or something like you'd said you would. Not that that would’ve helped you any.

The man knew where you lived. And he had a fucking key!

Feeling a little on edge, you head for the hallway, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. “I baked you a cake, baby!” You call out. “Want me to cut you a piece?”

“I’ll be down in a moment!” He responds. “Why don’t you go open your present, hm?”

Rocking on your heels for a second, you decide to go back to the kitchen, wondering what the hell he possibly could have bought you. And then you remove the lid.

Okay, well, so far it appeared to be nothing more than an overabundance of pink tissue paper.

You’re just about to reach inside when you hear Andy return to the room. “Go on. Dive in.” You jump when one of his brawny arms snakes its way around your waist, as his soft lips delicately caress the sensitive skin just behind your ear.

“Wh-what is it?”

“Aw. You really want me to spoil the surprise?” He presses a kiss to your temple. “I don’t think so, baby girl.”

Your pulse spikes as you tear at the thin sheets to reveal...a pair of lacy black panties.

“Keep going.” Andy urges as his talented fingers slide beneath your shirt to rest on your abdomen. “There’s more.”

Next you find a black device that looks suspiciously like a remote, followed by an oddly shaped vibrator, and a pink paddle with the words “for bad girls only” emblazoned on the front.

“Well, don’t leave me in suspense, sweetheart.” He brushes aside your curls so that he can rest his bearded chin on your shoulder. “What do you think?”

“I don’t think I quite understand.” You mutter as you dangle the skimpy scrap of fabric from your index finger.

“Well, in that case, allow me to explain.” Andy gives you another kiss, this time on the back of your neck. “See, since you love playing games so much, Daddy took some time out of his very busy schedule to go out and buy you a few things so that we could play together. Isn’t that nice?”

“Uh huh.” You breathe as your traitorous core spasms. “Wait.” Licking your dry lips, you try to turn in his arms, but his grip remains steadfast.

“Oh no.” He murmurs before picking up the paddle and pressing it to your chest. “I’m ready to play now.” The gruffness in his tone has your panties positively soaked. “So here’s what we’re gonna do. Are you listening to me, sweetheart?”

You nod quietly, suddenly having a tough time getting a full breath of air into your lungs.

“You're going to kick things off by stripping for me. And then you’re going to bend over the edge of the table and offer up that gorgeous ass.”

“But I -” You’re interrupted by a hand fisting itself in your hair, jerking your head back with just enough force to make you whimper.

“I don’t want to hear another goddamned word out of that sexy little mouth.” Andy growls, licking the curve of your cheek. “Not one, unless I grant you explicit permission to do so. Understand?”

You nod again as a delicious shiver courses through you.

“Good. Now strip. You have thirty seconds, baby.” He then steps to the side so that you can quickly go about removing your clothes, starting with your shirt. With shaking hands you work to unfasten your bra before letting it drop to the ground - baring your breasts to your man’s hungry gaze.

Next up are your thin cotton shorts, followed by your underwear. But instead of allowing them to join the pile, Andy holds out his hand to you. Giving them over to him, you watch as he slowly brings damp cotton to his nose, inhaling your sweet, earthy scent. A strangled groan escapes his throat as he repeats the action. Once. Twice.

“You smell like heaven.” He hums, the gravely purr rumbling in his chest.

Finally naked, you lower yourself across the table, letting out a tiny shudder as your nipples make contact with the cool surface.

“Good girl.” Andy praises as his large, slightly calloused palm settles on the small of your back. “Now, we can continue with the game.” He steps around you to pick up the vibrator and panties that are laying on the table, just out of reach.

“As you probably already guessed, this toy very similar to the one we keep upstairs. Except there are a couple key differences. The first one being that it’s controlled by that little handheld remote right there.” He places the device in question into his pocket, a hint of a mocking grin flitting across his lips. “Yeah, that part’s meant for Daddy.”

And then he continues on, purposely ignoring the way you keep rubbing your thighs together.

“As for the second special thing…you see these? These are magnetic wings that lock together with this piece right here, turning these into one hell of a good time.”

Oh good God. He was talking about vibrating panties.

"Doesn't that sound fun, little girl?" Your man's all-too enthusiastic response elicits another whimper from you, followed by a whine as he slowly begins dragging the fabric up your legs and over your ass.

You do your best to focus on your breathing when he gently adjusts the vibrator, making sure the toy is securely nestled against your swollen, needy clit.

Once he’s done, he then cups a possessive hand over your mons. “Who’s pussy is this?” He rasps, as his voice borders on something feral. “You can speak.”

“Y-yours.” You respond with a shaky whisper.

“Damn right it is. And who do you belong to? Who's the rightful keeper of this beautiful little body?" He grinds heel of his palm against your cunt, enjoying the sweet sounds you make. "Wanna hear you say my name, baby.”

“You-ooh! I belong to you, D-daddy.”

“Good girl.” Andy purrs. “Proud of you for answering correctly.”

“Ooh!" Without warning, you feel the toy suddenly come to life, sending low, even vibrations pulsing through your vulnerable core all the way down to your toes. “Oh, fuck - god, Andy!” Your eyes fall shut as the power increases.

“Did I also mention that this thing is equipped with twelve different settings?" Oh fuck! "I mean, the box did promise hours of fun. So, I think it’s only fair that we give it a good test drive. Maybe even leave a review.”

“Ungh!” You cry out as he ratchets up the speed once more. "Daddy, please!"

Andy ignores your cries as he silently debates whether or not he ought to gag you

“Glad you agree, baby girl. Tell you what, I’ll be nice and let you keep playing with your new toy during your spanking. In fact, you even have my permission to cum.”

“Fuck!” You dance on your toes as the sensations threaten to overwhelm you. “Too much!”

“It is not.” Andy scoffs, issuing a sharp slap to your upturned ass, courtesy of your brand new paddle. “Knock it the fuck off before I really give you something to whine about.” And then he chuckles before adding. “Oh, wait. That’s exactly what I’m about to do, isn’t it?”

The paddle cracks across your ass again, forcing you to bear down on the toy as your empty walls clench around nothing.

Your orgasm was so close, but what worried you was that you knew he was only just getting started.

“And when we’re through with this part of the game, I’ll help you with the fajitas.”

Crack! Crack! Crack!

“Ow, Daddy!” You hiss at the sting - which only serves to intensify the pleasure pulsing through your poor, soon-to-be overworked pussy. “Damn!”

“Mm. Swear, you look so pretty like this.” He delivers the next blow before turning up the vibrations another notch. “In fact, I think we’ll keep playing through dinner. What do you say?”

“Argh! Fucking bastard!” You wail as you stomp your foot, which only earns you an underhanded slap to your cunt.

Crack!

“Okay, have it your way, sweet girl. Daddy will check in with you after dessert.”

END

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