#though I have “seen”/“heard” them without being that way before too.
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Hey, guys! I'd like to address a personal issue which actually concerns everyone in this fandom. Please, read and react somehow🙏 For those on the bojere fanbook server, that's going to be pretty much the same as what you read yesterday. If I'm too direct or accidentally overshare, sorry, keep in mind that I'm autistic
So for quite a long time I felt secretly disliked in the fandom. I am a very anxious person, I hang on every piece of feedback that I get so it bothered me a lot. I wasn't allowed to participate in the Käärijä zine and they never explained why and I almost didn't get in the bojere fanbook as well but at least the mods were kind enough to communicate the issue
So the mods told me yesterday that people felt uncomfortable about me taking part in this and having me on the server. I felt very down the whole day and didn't understand shit until Moko and Due gave me the explanation. The issue was "radfem" in my bio on Twitter. They explained to me how my associating with radfem made them think I was potentially threatening to other people on the server, especially the queer folk. But the thing is I turned out to be quite different. I consider myself to be radfem cause I've had a lot of traumatic experience with men (SA, abusive relationship), I don't want any other women to go through something like I had to experience, I am with women, I'm fighting for our comfort and against the patriarchy. Also I am from Kazakhstan and we have big issues with women's rights here including all kinds of abuse and femicide for which men tend to not get in jail. You might have heard how our ex minister of Economics abused and k*lled his wife and didn't get in jail until the case reached the news. That's all, that's what it means TO ME to be radfem. So I guess this radfem is different to the one you're used to. I am not transphobic and I have never thought my views had anything to do with queer people. I have always been nothing but respectful towards queer people, online or irl. I have nonbinary friends who are comfortable with communicating with me. As a cis person, I may not understand something, but we tend to talk anything through in order to understand each other better, not waiting for any of us get hurt accidentally. So I suggest the same - if you need further clarification, you can ask me questions in reblog or dms and I'll answer. Also I'm open to literature suggestions to get to understand you guys better💕
Also regarding Russian-Ukranian issue in case anyone has a problem with it
Since I'm openly Russian speaking (though being from Kazakhstan and half Ukrainian myself), Ukrainians might have an issue with me and I perfectly understand why so I try not to bother them. However, some of them didn't want to leave me and my friends alone. You might have seen this big Russian-Ukranian fight on twitter in April, mostly taking place in JO fandom. The thing is that (again) people don't dig deep and assume I am pro Russian since I speak Russian and happen to not be able to speak Ukrainian or Kazakh (in Kazakhstan we mostly speak Russian). Me and my Russian speaking friends were bullied, our personal info was leaked without our permission and one of us got threatened to be physically hurt once she arrives to a JO gig we are all going to. Of course I protected my friends and myself, maybe not in the best way possible. Luckily, we were able to talk everything through with the guys and no one means to hurt anyone anymore. I suggested doing commissions for donations and I still do that if you're interested. I am pro Ukrainian and pro Palestinian and genocides suck
If someone doesn't want to communicate with me for whatever reason, just don't, what's the problem. But don't limit a person before clarifying things, I beg you. Please, I really want to be on good terms with everyone. I wish peace to everyone 🙏
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I have not been doing so hot. I keep on saying that but burnout is actually crazy double comboed with artblock. But after some tears of frustration I wanted to show my swap au so yeyey
Short synopsis:
Lilith, Lucifur, Charlie 🔄 Adam, Micheal, Emily
Micheal and Adam fall after taking the forbidden fruit (it is a pear!) Rule over hell together and then have 7 children- Cain, Abel, Seth, Alclima, Awan and Emily. Hell does its own exterminations every year. Micheal and Adam lead along side with their children who participate as well. Up above Charlie watches in dispair. Her father has told her about the horrors of hell and its deranged rulers. She's the angel of Mercy (maybe I might change that) and wants the sinners of hell to have a second chance. So she goes down to hell without asking and tries to find a way to help save some of the sinners from suffering. In that time she makes friends with Hell's royal family starting with Emily and then comes to realize that heaven is a little (a lot) more corrupted than she thought
So here are some of their busts. I drew emily young bcz this was initially going to be a family portrait but I got lazy but for the au she's her canon age her horns are covered by her hair o3o
So heres a long but not full backstory and info of the au if ur interested under the cut:
Idk why yet why Micheal tempted Adam with the pear but it happened. Because of their betrayal, Adam and Micheal get sent down. But while Lilith is stripped of her fertility, Adam has his humanity stripped. When Micheal recovers, he's greeted with his lover in the form of a wild beast, body stretched, covered in feathers. The only human-ish thing is Adam's face which is essentially looks like a porcelain mask of his face with his eyes closed in a permeant smile unless he opens it and then the mask splits in two.
It takes days for Micheal to calm down the animalistic Adam. It just seems like everything about him is gone. Micheal still loves him, though, so he stays. Adam thrashes around, he screams, and he yells. The abyss is nothing but rubble as Adam digs wildly while screaming. Adam is too hostile for Micheal to comfort so he deals with just watching from afar.
As years roll by as Micheal watches his lover, Adam begins to calm down. He's grown tired and his animalistic rage has subsided. Micheal is able to pet Adam and he can see how tured Adam is. They begin sleeping together again.
All seems hopeless that Adam will ever gain any semblance of his humanity. That is until the first sinner arrives.
Micheal had seen the sinner from afar. He was going to approach, but then he heard Adam. Adam barreled at the sinner and before Micheal knew it, Adam had eaten the sinner with a vile crunch.
Micheal rushed to Adam to see the damage. Then Adam moved and turned. It was then that Adam had spoken properly since the fall. He asked Micheal what happened but Micheal could only stare and cry. They were able to talk for a while and they savored every bit of it.
That joy only lasted for a few hours before Adam became animalistic again.
From then on, Micheal made it his mission to gather as many sinners and feed them to Adam.
Initially it hurt. It hurt a lot. And after doing it for so long, Micheal knew that the sinners would never reform. But that harsh reality paled in comparison to Adam finally having his concise again. Being able to finally talk to his lover and husband was more than enough reason for him.
So time flies and hell is getting bigger and stronger. The population of sinners is also getting bigger. There becomes less spawn killing of sinners but they are kinda checked over like livestock to the royal family.
Hell in this universe is more fairy tale based to differ from whats supposed be a circus theme??? that i get from hazbin. Thats what people say so I'm making my hell the brothers grim x into the woods x shrek.
I want the royal family in fairy tale clothes okay >:(
Hell is essentially far far away land except everything is out to get you. The place is straight up inhabitable as everyone who spawns in ends up having to run away immediately. It's so hard not to die or get hurt. The terrane is unforgiving, the trees are out to get you, the flowers are out to get you, the animals are out to get you, the weather is out to get you, the water thats not whatever is out to get you. Any wrong slip and you can just die again. Sinners are a lot more prone to betrayal and rage because living is just so hard.
There is no pentagram city, its like, a couple of very small town that are ruled by overolords. Overlords are people who just got lucky or got into a contract with one of the royal children. They use their power to stay alive and have some semblance of stability but they are given power to they raise other sinners like cattle through contracts if needed.
These overlords though are pretty... yeah... so they kinda become like those fairy tale villains.
So for funzies, all those fairy tales that people hear on earth are true stories that come from hell that had been told by demons who escape to the mortal realm and whisper them in writers ears as they sleep or some bs like that sdfoeufb
But as stated, exterminations do happen. Like cattle, it is important to save up the stock. You cant consume everything as they come, cattle needs its time to grow. So every year, they let the population grow and on extermination day, Micheal and Adam ride out into hell as they purge a bunch of sinners till Adam eats enough to revert back to human form till the next ectermination.
It's only them that exterminate and collect till their children grow up and join them in the exterminations- fueled by their want to keep Adam humanly conscious. They collect the bodies and then Adam feeds on them after hours to gain his humanity back
Micheal and Adam have their children- Cain, Abel, Seth, Alclima, Awan and Emily
Cain, Seth, Alclima, and Awan become the 4 horsemen of the apocalypse (i went with the good omens version with death, famine, war and pestilence- conquest is not one -yet- )
Cain (death) in very short is like Death in puss and boots with a lot less chill. He does have Death's sickles (I wanted to make them Abel's horns so thats a maybe) He's a mama's (adam) boy and a giant brat
Seth (Famine) Chillest of the siblings. He's a lot like Adam, just not as brash. He spreads famine through locusts that emerge from his cloak. They look like pretty jewels until they fly off. Food rots in his presence during exterminations. He hates when he accidentally activates it when hes eating (he loves snacking)
Alclima (War) She's very tough and brutish. Very honest in her opinions and not afraid to speak about it. Her and Cain play fight a lot. The exorcist army exists but they live as the royal family's castle's soldiers and they are commanded by Alclima. During exterminations, she is the one to lead them in battle. Her presence gives people the rage of war.
Awan (Pestilence) Very eerie girl/ Shes got that dead eye look sometimes and just stares at people. Shes actually very kind and soothing. She's very girly and has a room similar to stockings from paswg. Shes a stem girlie
Abel kind of overlooks them as the representation of chaos. (I wanted the death and chaos are the children of the devil thing to happen so this it) The first attempted murder does happen between Abel and Cain, but since they're in hell magic sooo hahah blam Cain allows his body to merge with Abel out of regret and so Abel kind lives in his conscience but can also switch control over his brother (idk im so done)
Emily is supposed to become a fifth horseman as the representation of conquest. But she young and stuff and only just became an adult so she still maneuvering through it- also sera's here too and she takes the place of Alastor and is a royal advisor to the family sufoauebfoebos
They are all part lion coming from Micheal but their horns are from Adam
Their children are very mixed about exterminations, but Emily has the most issues with it. The family in general feels bad, but family over the people. Emily is just way more emotional about it, especially since she is yet to participate.
Exterminations are very mixed in hell with the citizens because while some have the will to live, some want to truly end their suffering. Many willingly sacrifice themselves and go under contracts with overlords. With overlords, they get to live comfortably as they possibly can but they still hate hell so when exterminations roll around they willingly die.
This is a lot but its not everything. Actually this is all very vauge rn but idk if I want to work on this :p
THIS IS SUCH A MESSKJFBIABFIAEGFIAUEGIdfi
Also a bit of the beast adam deisgn. I want to add some more stuff. do some tweaking but AUAGSDD yuppers i will change some stuff about him later (i forgot his horns)
i dont think i'll do much with this au after this -maybe draw it but i won't write- but it was a fun thought
I'll try to post tomorrow some guitarhero stuff but im so dead IAFBISUEBFGI
#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin hotel#guitarhero#michael x adam#hazbin hotel michael#micheal hazbin hotel#myart#adam hazbin hotel#hazbin art#hazbin hotel au#swap au#hazbin hotel oc#hazbin hotel cain#hazbin hotel abel#hazbin hotel seth#hazbin hotel alclima#hazbin hotel awan#hazbin hotel emily
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𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒. 최연준
sypnosis: you and yeonjun are secret agents doing your last mission of the year. yeonjun is planning to propose to you after but his plans become.. partially wrecked.
genre(s): angst, fluff (if you squint), secret agent au
pairing: nonidol!secret agent!choi yeonjun x afab!secret agent!reader
trigger warnings: profanity, blood/gore, gun(shots), (mentions of) d3ath, mentions of gunshot wounds, (mentions of) murd3r
a/n: lmk how this is because i was super lazy and this is probably really bad TT
anyway tho, i'm a sucker for angst and wanted to write one for a while so.. enjoy-?
January 1st. A New Year. A day to celebrate.
And the day that--unbeknownst to you--Yeonjun was planning to propose to you.
Right at 12:00 AM today, December 31st. Right when the fireworks shoot into the midnight sky, speckled with twinkling stars. Right before the fireworks crackle and bloom above them in different colors.
Right after their long, tiring assignment that went completely wrong.
"I'm guessing you heard that we're having our last mission this year together, darling?" You look up to see your boyfriend leaning against the doorframe of your office.
You let out a sigh, closing the folder containing your mission that you had just scanned through. You stood up from your chair, pushing it to your desk. "Though I wish they would've let us have the day off seeing that it's New Year's Eve."
"You know they'll never let us off." Yeonjun smiled, stepping towards you. His arms slide around your waist before he leans closer to your face, pecking your lips.
You pull away and lay your forehead onto Yeonjun’s shoulder. “Still, a break would be nice.”
“After the mission, I have a surprise for you.” Yeonjun strokes a hand through your hair and plays with the ends as you hum in amusement.
“Really? And what’s that?”
“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, baby.” Yeonjun chuckled. “Let’s just get ready for the mission now, hm?”
You grumble into his chest but let go of him to oblige.
♡
You and Yeonjun stand in front of a large building, guns strapped to both of your waists. The sun had just set, leaving a navy sky above them and the street lamps being their only source of light.
Cicadas chirp in the night as a chilly breeze drifts past them. Your hair dances in the wind, along with the trees and bushes nearby.
“Ready?” Yeonjun grins at you reassuringly.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” You let out a small breath, turning into a puff of smoke in the winter weather, and smile back. Yeonjun nods and looks up at the building towering over them. It was the headquarters of your secret agent organization’s enemy.
The mission was simple. Sneak into the building, destroy any information that they have on your agent organization, and get out.
Simple, but not easy.
Being the head building of the organization, there was bound to be a lot of bodyguards. Plus, it was New Year’s Eve, which likely meant double the security. It wasn’t a surprise that you and Yeonjun were chosen, being the aces of your organization.
“Let’s go.” Yeonjun suggests. You follow him as he opens the window at the back of the building and slips inside. He signals you to come in as well after making sure the coast was clear.
The whole way to the floor of information on your organization was too easy. There were barely guards in sight, just a few here and there, but nothing you and Yeonjun couldn’t take care of or sneak past.
You decided to shake the weird feeling off, guessing that even the agents were celebrating with their families and friends.
Yeonjun led the way up, and back down after you had destroyed all the information and evidence of your presence. The two of you easily snuck out of the building without being seen and quickly let your boss know about your success.
Yeonjun takes your hand as the two of you slowly walk away from the building, “That was easier than expected, huh?”
“Guess everyone’s out for the holidays.” You lean your head against his shoulder. Yeonjun chuckles and plants a soft kiss on your forehead.
Unexpectedly, you hear a muffled shouting from behind you. The two of you whip your heads around. It’s a man, specifically one of the bodyguards.
One hand presses onto the wound the two of you gave him earlier, assuming he was dead, and the other holds a gun. A explosive, chilling noise rings in your ears, the undeniable screech of a bullet shooting towards you.
“Shit- Y/n, get back!” Yeonjun’s eyes widen as he shoves you out of the way.
The rest unfolds in a blink of an eye and you can’t even process what happened until after it did.
Yeonjun rips out his gun, firing bullets back at the bodyguard. The bullet the guard had fired sinks into Yeonjun’s abdomen and pierces his skin, making him stumble to the ground and wince.
“YEONJUN!” You cry, sprinting to your boyfriend after checking to see if the security guard threat was clear.
Yeonjun coughs out blood as he holds the wound. Red stains his shirt and trickles to the ground. You curse under your breath, squeezing your eyes shut to force incoming tears back in, and apply pressure onto his wound.
“Why the fuck did you do that?!” You scold, avoiding Yeonjun’s gaze. That gaze filled with sadness and warmth and pain and so many more feelings that all mix together, yet he felt more concern for you than anything else.
“Y/n..” Yeonjun smiled, placing a hand on yours, “love you.”
“What..?” You whisper and look into his eyes, and his smile makes your voice start to break. “Don’t- don’t say that.. you’re not going to die. You are not leaving me.”
“He shot my abdominal aorta. You know I’m not going to make it.” His blood doesn’t stop flowing and it dirties your hands as you press harder onto his wound.
“Yeonjun, shit- don’t-“
Yeonjun slowly reaches his free hand into his pocket, “Remember that surprise I had? I want to tell you before going.”
You follow his gaze as he pulls out a small case. It opens and you let out a small gasp.
“Love, I’m sorry to do this to you.. but I wanted to let you know. You make me happiest when I’m with you. I’m glad you came into my life.. I couldn’t have found anyone better. Thank you for being with me all this time.” Yeonjun looks up at you. “So I have to ask.. will you marry me?”
“Yeonjun, I-“ Your breath catches in your throat, staring at Yeonjun’s injured state and the diamond ring he holds in front of you. Tears spill from your eyes, turning your eyes blurry so you can’t even see clearly anymore when you nod furiously.
You hear Yeonjun let out a small chuckle and he slips the ring onto your finger. He wipes a tear away from your eyes and places it back onto your hand.
“You better not die on me now.” You say sternly with a sniffle. You know you can’t stop the god-forsaken bleeding, you know that you’re just being selfish, and you curse yourself for it. For not having the ability to save Yeonjun, and for having to rely on him to hold on.
“I love you..” He whispers with his eyes closed so that only you can hear.
In the far distance, you can hear the crackle of fireworks as they bloom above you in multiple colors. Into the midnight sky, speckled with twinkling stars.
But as the clock strikes 12 AM, your fiancée’s hand goes cold and you are left alone.
#txt#txt angst#txt fluff#txt imagines#beomgyu#yeonjun#taehyun#hueningkai#txt x reader#txt soobin#txt yeonjun#txt huening kai#txt beomgyu#txt taehyun#txt hyuka#txt x y/n#txt x you#choi yeonjun#tomorrow x together#soobin#choi beomgyu#choi soobin#yeonjun x reader#yeonjun x you#yeonjun x y/n#txt au#yeonjun angst#kang taehyun#huening txt#yeonjun txt
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Gosh it's so werid right now...
My school gave out awards for the graduating class, with of course only those who got awards and their family can go (or friends if they got it approved by their family.)
I got two of them and it just hit me...
I didn't do the most that I could have.
I know why. I know how I could have improved and what outside factors stopped me. But overall I look and I see what I did get and I just think to myself... like... wow.
I actually made it to getting two awards...
Like... two awards!
I mean I believe some only got one. Though quite a few got more then two. I knew most of the people. A few I couldn't quite recognize or remember if I knew but the majority I did.
And that also made me think. Like I knew so many amazing and successful people and I managed to be up there in rank with them!
It was really cool.
However with this said it also reminded me about the fact that soon I will not be a minor.
Soon I will be an adult.
Very soon, in fact it's only a matter of days.
... 5 or 4 days...
It kind of scares me. Like I will not be a minor. I'll be going to college. Likely will get a job too. I have to clean my room. Make sure I pass one single class or I perish because this one class will determine if I graduate. (I'llget it but like I'm gonna explode with stress.)
I got a bunch of tests this week into next. I got a few projects that aren't done and I got very little time.
However I know I can get through it. I just... mentally might not be very good right now.
#I started hallucinating#I do that sometimes#probably not good but I can't afford to go talk to anyone and I don't trust asking my family for help signing up for this one online thing#it says you must be older than 19 to sign up on your own and like... I definitely ain't there yet.#I also gotta say I've been feeling lonely lately.#I got a voice/fictional person I have who comforts me and forces out bad things and tries helping me tackle the mental issues I got going on#I honestly dunno what to call this one as it only shows when things get pretty bad.#I got multiple fictional people/voices that go around in my mind helping me.#or not helping#like how I have a few of them which I associate to intrusive thoughts (and yes I mean intrusive not compulsive but I got some for that too.)#I even got some for emotions for when I dunno how to feel. sometimes I dunno how to feel sorry for someone or empathic/sympathetic and so#I got a person made up to help in situations. I just pretend I'm them.#or when I'm distraught or panicked or really upset or other strong negative feelings I have two that help.#one of those two will stay even after#However that 1 is the one I mentioned earlier that generally comes at extreme times when I need them most#though I have “seen”/“heard” them without being that way before too.#but by a year of school I can get distraught at the end because of everything being due and it's pass or fail moments so I panic a lot#I also get distraught and upset#and lonely and really a lot of negative things which takes toll on my mental health meaning that's were the one person comes from.#anyways I got off topic. if people want though I might elaborate what these tags mean and are talking about.#so I guess I should go#but I mean I would congratulate my friends here but I dunno their tumblrs/they don't have one.#so instead I will congratulate everyone who got a reward at school ever in their life for whatever reason#even if it's something silly like having the messiest desk.#or something about community service cause that is a great thing and even if you ain't got a reward for it I congratulate you.
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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you’ve been one of sukuna’s many concubines for quite a while now. yet, you still cannot get rid of the jealousy in your system whenever he interacts with the other women in his harem.
wc. idk around 1 to 2k
tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. angst (hurt to comfort), fluff, suggestive at the end. heian era. you call sukuna ‘my lord’. reader gets called ‘brat, little girl’. size difference. no part2, don’t ask i beg. not beta read.
“get back here, brat,” sukuna raises his voice as he follows you. he isn’t one to care about others’ emotional outbursts, yet here he is, chasing you after you’ve poured out your heart to him.
you don’t know why you’re this upset. you do know, however, that it’s childish of you to walk away mid dinner. you should’ve just stayed seated and refuse to let the thoughts consume you.
now you’re speed walking down the hallways of the estate—your legs carrying you as fast as they can without actually making a run for it. your mind keeps replaying the ‘unsettling’ scene that caused you to flee.
you remember it vividly. the sound of sukuna’s low, amused chuckle. how intrigued it was because of something another concubine told him—how he stopped chewing to say something back to her. which he rarely does.
hell, you’ve never seen him laugh around his other concubines.
“i do not wish to talk to you right now, my lord,” you reply, voice raised so the distance wouldn’t make it a hassle for the king of curses to hear you. you know that feisty attitude of yours entertains sukuna to no end.
he raises an eyebrow once he’s heard your voice; how it’s dripping with envy and hurt. you’ve never reacted like that before—at least not in his presence. it made him want to figure out why and how.
though, he can easily guess the reasoning behind your sudden defiance.
“oh, that so?” sukuna hums. he’s lenient with you this time around. he could catch up to you in under a split second, but he decides to give you that sense of accomplishment first before completely destroying it. he walks after you slowly, your fast steps being the same tempo as his slow pace.
you don’t answer. you’re stubborn. you have no right to feel jealous. you are a fairly new concubine—only a couple months ago did you join sukuna’s harem. yet, the time spent with him was precious.
he treats you differently. everyone notices that. everyone tells you the same. you know he does by the way he lets you off the hook with most stuff you say and do.
you don’t know what you did to gain his favouritsm, but it’s addicting. his attention is addictive. real addictive.
you had sworn not to develop any unneccessary feelings for that ruthless sorcerer. but, with the way sukuna treated you so gently behind closed doors, it was impossible not to.
you eventually reach the doors to your chambers. you slide them open and wish to close them behind you, only for a big hand to halt those movements. you freeze in place and refuse to look up at the owner of that said hand.
“look up,” sukuna demands. his voice causes goosebumps to appear on your arms, but you still don't budge. he clicks his tongue. that’s your first warning. two more and your punishment will be carried out, “we can do this the hard way too if you want.”
you turn your head, your fingers curling around the material of your kimono. you really should not feel this way about a little interaction between sukuna and his other concubine. that is none of your concern. what he does with those other women is none of your concern.
and yet. . .
“i don't want to,” you retort. sukuna walks into your room with a sigh. each step he takes forwards, you take backwards. your back finally bumps against the wall next to your bed.
sukuna towers over you, his tall and big frame making you feel vulnerable. especially with the way those red eyes of his are staring down at you. he crosses all four of his arms before speaking.
“tell me what’s running through that head of yours,” sukuna inquires sternly. he isn’t playing around anymore, you can tell. you glance the other way—knowing that he will laugh at you the moment you tell him why you’re upset.
you have a feeling he knows the reason behind your tantrum anyway.
“it’s nothing of importance, my lord,” you shake your head and relax your tense shoulders to make you seem less upset. your words have some truth in them—you don’t think your feelings of envy hold any value to him.
sukuna sighs again. he’s trying his best not to be annoyed at you. you’re his favorite and he wishes not to sadden you any further. he steps forwards, one hand moving to cup the side of your face.
his rough fingers play with a string of your hair, “i’m not stupid, little girl. i don’t like it when my woman is in distress.”
your heart skips a beat. this is what confuses you—how he can go from stern to gentle and vice versa. it’s surprisingly unexpected, which makes you long for more. even if his behaviour is confusing.
you look up at sukuna. your eyes meet for the first time in a good couple minutes. the corner of sukuna’s lips curls up into a satisfied smirk. that’s one step closer to getting you to open up.
“now,” the king of curses lowers his head to your eye level, the proximity all the more nerve wracking. he holds your jaw super tightly out of the blue. it makes you whimper.
“spit it out.”
there it is. the duality of the man strikes once more. you swallow the spit that’s been building up in your mouth. you bite your bottom lip lightly, trying to gather and form the right words to explain yourself.
sukuna wouldn’t understand. he’s a cold-hearted man who doesn’t care about such ‘trivial’ matters. he’ll just call you stupid, pathetic or whatever other derogatory term.
you stop your thoughts for a moment.
“it’s really just a stupid thing,” you mutter. your fingers curl around sukuna’s wrist—the one hand he’s using to firmly hold your jaw. you take a deep breath in, “i did not like it when you, errr. . . when that woman talked to you at the dinner table.”
your voice is clearly dripping with jealousy. pure, pure jealousy. and for what? because he talked to his other concubine. you feel stupid. you thought you discarded your personal feelings for the sorcerer before you the moment you turned into one of his many women.
“that woman?” sukuna tilts his head, feigning ignorance. that little grin on his face tells you enough. he’s playing with you like some form of entertainment. well, technically you are.
he wants you to be specific. he’s forcing you to be by acting like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about.
in all honesty, sukuna’s already forgotten what that woman had said to him. it wasn’t and still isn’t worth remembering. all he can recall is your adorable facial expression when you saw him interact like that with his other concubine.
that little frown on your face was priceless. it makes him want to keep teasing you.
“you know who i am talking about, my lord,” you huff, trying to look away, but get stopped by sukuna readjusting his grip on your jaw. he firmly yet gently taps your cheek once and you know what it means.
“attitude,” sukuna warns with a quick hiss. he can let you say whatever you want to him, but you also have some limits regarding which tone you use with him. you apologise quietly under your breath.
the king of curses nods in satisfaction before releasing the grip on your jaw. his large hand trails down to your neck, thumb rubbing up and down your throat, “so, my little girl is mad at me because i talked to another concubine of mine, huh?”
you nod mindlessly. sukuna can easily get you to comply with him—to obey his every word, simply with his actions. the terms of endearment he uses are the cherry on top. they slip off his tongue so easily with you.
“tsk tsk,” sukuna shakes his head. his hand is now on the back of your head, fingers tangled into your hair. he’s staring down at you with a smug expression. he knows he’s got you wrapped around his finger, “how childish of you.”
you knew that would be one of the things he’d say to you. what you didn’t expect is for him to go for a kiss right after. his lips land on yours firmly, and to no surprise, you instantly return the gesture.
your arms wrap around his neck—your chest pressing against his. sukuna wastes no time in picking you up and letting your legs encircle his waist. he’s not pulling away for air to breathe and you don’t either.
“you’re going to listen to me, yeah?” sukuna murmurs between passionate kisses. he’s holding onto you tightly with two arms, his free hands roaming over your body whilst he pins you against the wall.
when you whimper out a weak, high-pitched ‘yes, my lord’, he smirks against your mouth before turning to kiss your neck. he slightly bites the skin to make sure you’re paying attention to him.
“i don’t remember what that woman said,” sukuna continues, nearly out of breath because of the kisses he’s leaving all over you. he easily grabs both your wrists and pins them above your head on the wall, “i was too busy lookin’ at a much prettier concubine of mine.”
he pulls back a little so he can look you in the eyes. you’re panting and embarrassed by what he just said. one of his hands finds your face again, tracing the shape of your mouth.
“my favourite,” sukuna whispers whilst licking his lips. you can see it in his eyes: he’s silently planning out how he’s going to remind you of your place. your place as his favorite concubine.
he dips his head back down, aiming for the valley between your breasts. he closes his eyes before sucking on the surrounding flesh;
“guess i’ll be nice for once ‘nd show you just what it means to be my favorite so that you’ll never dare forget it again.”
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Hello.
I've seen you posting detailed information about the WGA strike and wondered if you had any suggestions as to how those of us not directly involved can show our support for the Union?
Okay, bearing in mind that all this is entirely subjective at the moment (and so far lacking any more useful input from other sources): a few thoughts.
This will be my third WGA strike. (My first one was in 1988, just after I'd made my first live action sale—s1e6 of ST:TNG). And the thought keeps occurring to me at the moment that this time out, there's a potentially gamechanging player on the field that wasn't there before: truly pervasive social media.
(Adding a cut here, because this goes on a bit...)
In 2007, social media as we now understand it was still in its cradle. Now, though, those of us who're striking can make our voices much more widely heard. And so can those of us who're not, but just want to show solidarity. Last time, the AMPTP was able to do pretty much what it wanted without the public noticing or having even a medium-profile way to make their feelings known. But this time? Not so much.
So as an otherwise uninvolved person who wants to show solidarity, I'd start with something seemingly low-value. If I was on Twitter, I'd start routinely tweeting about the strike and my support for it—not obsessively, just persistently, a couple/few times a week—using the Twitter hashtags that are gaining ground even now, such as #DoTheWriteThing (and of course #WGAStrike). I would make sure I was following @WGAEast and @WGAWest, to keep an eye on what's going on.
Additionally: I would start politely, but repeatedly—again, maybe once or twice a week at least, and not stopping—tweeting the various major players in the AMPTP, especially the streamers: Amazon, Netflix, Hulu et al. I would start suggesting that their current attitude toward the WGA's contract negotiations is not only unrealistic but potentially (for the AMPTP) bad for business. (And self-destructive, too, as if this goes on much longer in this vein, they'll be seemingly eagerly casting themselves as The Baddies.) I would suggest that their bad behavior, if not amended by them coming to the table to bargain in good faith, might start affecting both my interest in their shows and my willingness to keep paying unreasonable people for access to them.
I should emphasize here that so far there've been no formal calls from anyone for boycotts or subscription cancellations. For the moment, this strikes me as wise. The point for WGA-friendly observers, right now, would be to keep what's happening to the writers visible: to keep bringing it up: to refuse to allow it to be swept under the rug. The "They only want two cents on the dollar!" angle seems potentially useful the more it's repeated. The point is to keep the repetition going: to make it plain, day after day, that the other side's being not just unreasonable, but greedy. Day after day, and week after week, and (if necessary: please Thoth may it not be...) month after month.
And tweeting is hardly all that can be done. Email is cheap and easy. But actual letters, written on actual paper and mailed, can still create a surprising amount of attention in a corporate office. (The saying in TV used to be that for every person who actually writes in about an issue, there are ten, or a hundred, who feel the same way but never got around to it.) Write letters to all the AMPTP members' CEOs, and make your feelings on the WGA's core demands politely plain. ...Especially when those CEOs collectively made almost three-quarters of a billion-with-a-B dollars in salaries last year, when many of the writers working on their shows can't afford rent.
After that: here's another thought, a little more physical. If by chance you're in an area where one or the other of the Guilds are picketing: turn out and support them! Honk when you pass: and if you're interested, show up and offer to walk the picket lines with them. These things get noticed. (In 2007 a bunch of us, both Guild members and non-, caused significant astonishment by turning out to picket AMPTP members' offices in Dublin.)
...Obviously not all that many people are going to be positioned, in terms of location or their own work and time commitments, to show up physically. But online? Find ways to keep this issue visible. The AMPTP wants this to go quiet, wants people to get bored with it, wants people to find reasons to blame the writers. They've tried spinning the story that way before. Don't let them pull that shit. Find ways to back those who're calling them on that, publicly. They do respond to this kind of thing (though they may strenuously deny it). If enough attention continues to be paid by the general public, they will blink—if sometimes excruciatingly slowly, as Disney began to blink over the dispute tagged #DisneyMustPay.
As viewers, and as viewers who pay for subscriptions to things, we far outnumber them. Help be a part of making the AMPTP understand that this quest for a truly fair deal is not going to go away. And the longer they try to act like the Guild's negotiation positions are beneath their notice, the more it's going to hurt them, and the stupider and greedier it's going to make them look.
...That's all I've got for the moment, as I need some lunch. :) ...But I hope this has helped. And thanks for your concern, and your desire to stand in solidarity with us! It's so welcome. :)
ETA: here's a link to the Guild's social media toolkit, for those who'd like to change PFPs or icons, etc., to show their support.
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can’t get you off my mind
all good love stories start with a drunk stranger, don’t they?
warnings: mentions of alcohol, fem!reader
genre: fluff, comfort
word count: 4k
it starts at a bar.
or really, it starts with a man at a bar. one that you’ve seen before in passing, a familiar face in a sea of more familiar faces. someone who you’ll later learn is one third of your best friend changbin’s production team, someone who you should have met years ago probably, someone who you would find is the perfect puzzle piece that fits into your jagged edges.
but right now, he is just a man at a bar with a beer in hand and a ridiculously dopey smile on his face.
“marry me, please,” he says, absolutely serious but it’s a bit diluted from the way his words were slurred around the edges. “or i’ll have to kidnap you.”
“excuse me?” you raise a brow at him, his image swimming a bit as you turn your head to fully take him in. you’re not drunk, but youre a couple glasses of wine deep and you’re not known for being fully articulate whilst sober anyways.
“i swear i’m going to marry you,” he says, eyes wide as he looks at you. “you might be the most perfect person i’ve ever seen.”
you’re not overly fond of men you haven’t met hitting on you, but this one seems a bit harmless. if you ignored the part where he said he would kidnap you. at least he wasn’t grabbing onto you or trying to touch you - that would have sent your fist flying towards his face and probably a swift exit from the bar. it was a little weird that you didn’t find him weird, but in retrospect you must have known, even then.
“okay, listen,” you put your hands on your hips, giving him an unimpressed look. “if you find me when you’re sober, ask me again and maybe i’ll reconsider.”
“okay,” he nods, hair moving along with his movement like a puppy’s ears. “i can do that. i’ll find you, i promise. i’m gonna marry you, did you know?”
“so i’ve heard,” you roll your eyes, already feeling a bit fond about him. you didn’t think you’d meet him again, but you were sure that you’d look at this night with a fond smile later.
he sends you the brightest smile you think you’ve ever seen on a person and scampers off, and you stand rooted to that one sticky spot in the bar for longer than you want to admit.
–
he’s in the back of your mind when you wake up the next morning, in a better mood than most - you never liked waking up early, it always took you a good hour and some coffee to be able to stand without grimacing. this morning though, you float around your apartment as you get dressed with a small smile on your face.
a cute stranger who kept his boundaries and called you perfect? that wasn’t something that happened often, at least not to you.
the floatiness followed you all the way through your morning routine until you found your feet stopping outside the coffee shop that you and changbin all but owned. you had no stock in it, but you’re sure that you supply them at least half of their revenue, you probably sit on their rickety chairs more often than your actual couch at home. this place has nursed you through every college class and job interview preparations and beyond, and if it ever closed you might lose time off of your life span.
your movements from the door to the counter to your usual seat were robotic, muscle memory taking over while your head did somersaults through the clouds. it’s only when you take the first sip of coffee, the bitterness and heat hitting your tongue in a delightful dance, that you notice it.
another man is sitting next to changbin. a man that looks awfully familiar, and it takes you a moment to realize why. it’s the man from the bar.
“changbin?” you keep your eyes on the other man as you direct your question at changbin, trying hard to keep your face neutral. “explain?”
“i’m chan,” the man interjects before changbin can answer, reaching his hand across the table for you to shake. it’s warm, his grip somewhere perfectly in the middle of too hard and too soft, and he lets go after an appropriate amount of seconds. despite the neutral passivity of the gesture, you feel something ignite within you, and it threatens to sputter out when you catch no spark of recognition in his eyes. was he that drunk last night that he doesn’t remember you? do his sober eyes not find you as perfect?
“he crashed at my place last night,” changbin’s voice filters through your turmoil, and you finally break away from chan’s gaze to level him with a look. “and he needed coffee, so i brought him along. chan, this is y/n, my best friend.”
the conversation that followed flowed more freely than the coffee dripping from the machines behind the counter, and you almost hate how much you like it. chan is a little goofy, the man from the previous night shining through moments of seriousness and rapt attention.
by the time you had to leave to go to work you felt like you knew him. you learned where he lived (close to you!), that he worked with changbin (he’s a producer!), and that he loved all animals but he adored dogs (he has one named berry!). just an hour of casual conversation had led to you needing more of him in every aspect of your life, but still in the back of your head lived the thought of him not remembering you from the night before.
changbin leaves first, citing some meeting he had to run to in the middle of a yawn, and when you were left with chan the embarrassment began to set in.
“i’m going to marry you,” he blurts out, startling you so much you almost jump out of your seat.
“what?” you ask, a mixture of surprise and disbelief combining into a confusing vortex within your head - was he going to go through this again? you didn’t know if your heart could take it.
“i mean, i remember you,” he says before you could awkwardly excuse yourself and commit to getting to work early for the first time in a year just to escape being in a room alone with him for much longer. “i’m sorry, i was just embarrassed. i didn’t want to make a fool out of myself in front of changbin.”
“oh,” your breath leaves you all at once and you slump into your chair, understanding hitting you like a train. “that makes sense? i think?”
“i’m going to marry you,” he repeats, a mischievous glint in his eyes, the boy from last night shining through. “one day. i’m going to do it.”
“take me on a date first,” you tease back, a genuine smile stretching across your lips when he laughs, a full bodied thing that drew in eyes from the patrons across the room. for once, you didn’t seem to care that others’ eyes were on you. he made you feel comfortable.
“what are you doing tomorrow?” his mouth turns upwards into a beautiful smile that you can’t help but return.
“eager, are we?” you open your phone, sliding it across the table with the new contact page open on it. “i’m free.”
“you’re the most perfect person i’ve ever laid eyes on,” he says, as serious and genuine as the way he had proposed to you last night as he taps his number into your phone. “sorry if i’m a bit desperate.”
“don’t apologize,” you take your phone back, making a mental note to text him later. “i like it, for some unearthly reason. you’re cute, chan.”
the sound of his delighted laugh follows your footsteps all the way to work.
—
he picks you up for your first date at noon, right on the dot. he wasn’t a minute late, a polite knock sounding through your apartment just as the hour turned, as if he had been waiting and watching the time outside the door.
god, is everything about this man endearing?
he’s wearing shorts and a light sweater, looking like something out of a posh magazine. his hair is curly and swept off his forehead and he’s wearing a smile with the most adorable dimples shining through.
he leads you to his car and you have to hold back an impressed whistle. you knew changbin and his team did well for themselves, the name 3racha all over the credits of songs on the radio, but this car was nice. you were going to have a talk with changbin about why he still drove the same beat up sedan he’s had since college but that was a thought for later. right now all you wanted to think about was the man who held the door open for you to slide into the passenger seat and was now holding your hand over the middle console.
“do i get to know where we’re going?” you ask, peering at the map open on his phone but it tells you nothing more than that your destination was 15 minutes away and that he had to make a right turn in one mile.
“it’s a surprise,” he says, voice a little nervous but it was masked with excitement. wherever he was taking you, you would be happy to be there if he was this happy the whole time.
four songs on the radio later, one of which you teased him for when he revealed that he wrote it, he was pulling into a parking lot illuminated by flashing colorful lights. he had brought you to the fair.
“i’ve never been to the fair!” you bounced a little in your seat, wriggling in excitement. “i’ve always wanted to go, how did you know?”
“lucky guess?” he shrugs, avoiding your gaze as he cuts the engine and unbuckles his seatbelt.
“changbin told you, didn’t he,” you smile at the thought of chan asking his friend about what you’d like. it was cute, a word that you were probably exhausting when thinking about him even after a day of knowing him.
“yes, but,” he flushes, the tips of his ears burning red. “i asked him after i had decided to come here, just to make sure it was a good idea. i didn’t steal it from him.”
“hey, it’s okay,” you squeeze his hand in yours that he had yet to let go of in what you hoped was a comforting gesture. you didn’t know what brought him calmness yet, but you wanted to learn. you wanted to learn everything about him. “now, take me to the fair, bang chan. i was promised a date.”
he finally meets your eyes again and he’s grinning so happily that you feel like you had just won a prize. who needed a fair when you had your very own carnival game right here?
it turns out, you did. by the time the sun was beginning to set, your arms were full of various plushies that chan had won for you, each one earning him a hug and a kiss to his cheek. you treasured every single one, the fluttering in your chest when he stepped up to the booths to throw and shoot various things never ceasing.
“let’s go to the ferris wheel,” you tug at him with your free hand, thanking the skies when you see no queue there. “i bet the sunset looks beautiful from the top.”
he’s quiet when he follows you there and into the carriage, his thigh pressing against yours as he slides in next to you, but you don’t notice in your excitement. it isn’t until the wheel ticks to the top and stops that he grabs your hand again, trembling a little.
“chan? are you okay?” you ask, concern warping your voice as you turn towards him. your movement rocks the carriage a bit and he turns pale, ducking his head into your neck to hide.
“yeah, ‘m okay,” he murmurs, his eyelashes ticking your skin when he blinks his eyes shut. “just don’t like heights very much.”
“oh my god, why didn’t you tell me?” you cry out, jumping a bit and regretting it when you rock the carriage again. “nevermind that, what can i do? it’ll go down soon, you’ll be alright.”
“just keep holding my hand?” he squeezes your fingers lightly and your heart melts. you may have made a joke that he was just trying to trick you into holding his hand any other time, but the fear in his shaking body was real and you’d never tease him for that.
“of course,” you press a kiss to his hair, moving your other hand slowly to wrap around your intertwined fingers. the wheel begins to turn again, swaying the carriage as it descends. you keep your grip on his hand tight the entire time, all the way until you’re on your feet again on steady ground.
“i’m so sorry,” you begin to say, the horror of subjecting him to his fear creeping up now that the crisis has passed.
“i’m going to marry you,” he says, cutting off your apology and lifting your hands to his mouth so he could press a kiss to the back of yours. “no one’s ever been able to keep me that calm. thank you.”
you were left speechless after that and all you could do was smile at him, the ghost of it not leaving your face for the rest of the night.
–
your thirty first date with chan ends with you crying into changbin’s arms, utterly confused and the feeling of despair creeping up your veins. you had met him your cafe as you had done several times since the fair, but when you arrived he wasn’t there. he came late, dark storms in his eyes and a hard set to his jaw and you didn’t understand what had made him like that. the usual smile and twinkle in his eyes were missing, and when you and asked him about what was wrong he had snapped at you in a way you hadn’t been talked to in years.
you had left after that, brushing him off when his eyes had widened and he reached for you while calling out your name. you know that you should have given him a chance to explain, but at the time you were too hurt to consider it.
you made your way to changbin’s apartment without thinking, your feet taking you to safety before your head could catch up. changbin had taken one look at your face before wrapping you up in his arm, walking you to his couch so he could cuddle you properly while words spilled out of you like a leaky faucet. you felt like you were back in college, crying and blubbering over a boy who had rejected you at a party, and you hated it.
you didn’t notice changbin sending an angry text to chan, but the sound of changbin’s door opening with a bang startled you out of your tears. chan bursts in like a whirlwind, his hair sticking up at weird angles and a look of panic on his face as he takes you in. he reaches the couch in a few strides and falls to his knees in front of you, holding a crumpled bag from the cafe in his hand and taking your cheek gently into his other. his thumb wipes at the tear tracks there and you could practically taste the guilt emanating off of him.
“love, i am so sorry,” he starts, ignoring changbin when he scoffs at the apology. “i shouldn’t have snapped at you, i had no right to do that. i got some bad news this morning and i wasn’t feeling my best, and i should have been honest with you. i’ll never do anything like that again, please forgive me? i’ll do anything.”
it was more his voice than his words that did it - he sounded so desperate, like he was trying to hold
onto a ledge that was crumbling, threatening to hurl his body into eternal nothingness. you knew him, you knew he was sorry, and against your first instinct you trusted him when he said he wouldn’t do it again.
“is that an almond croissant?” you eye the bag in his hand.
“it’s two almond croissants,” he nods fervently, his hair swishing back and forth with the movement. you sit up, sliding out of changbin’s arms and onto the floor in front of chan. chan’s arms replace changbin’s easily when you lean into him, and it feels like coming home.
“it’s not like i have a nice couch you could be sitting on,” changbin mutters as he leaves, shaking his head fondly at the two of you before making himself scarce.
chan kisses you, cradling your head gently into his hands, and they’re so warm. he slides his lips against yours, slowly like he’s taking his time memorizing the planes of your mouth to commit to memory. even after kissing him dozens of times you still find new things to learn about each other.
“i swear,” he says, pulling away to meet your eyes. “i’m going to marry you, someday.”
“keep getting me croissants as apologies and we’ll see,” you say, sniffling into his neck.
—
your eighty seventh date was spent in your bed, your head spinning like both hands on a clock simultaneously and your body exuding more sweat than you ever have.
chan is wringing out a cool cloth to place on your forehead and it feels so nice that you moan.
“i’m sorry,” you mutter, and chan has lost count of the amount of times you’ve said it at this point. “we had a date and i ruined it.”
“we were going to see a movie,” he says, running a hand up and down your spine. “and we will. we don’t need a movie theater when we have a screen right here, hmm?”
“but the popcorn,” you complain, closing your eyes in bliss when he runs a hand through your hair, scratching gently at your scalp. an apology for being so sweaty was at the tip of your tongue but you hold it back in favor of enjoying the feeling of his touch.
“i’ll make you all the popcorn you want when you’re feeling better,” he promises, dropping a kiss to the side of your head. “for now, how does soup sound?”
“popcorn soup?“ you ask, a wave of dizziness taking over your body; if you weren’t lying down already, you’re sure that too would be falling over.
“yeah, baby,” and even in your delirium the fondness in his voice was prominent. he couldn’t hide it even if he tried. “i’ll make you some popcorn soup. get some rest okay?”
you’re asleep before he leaves the room, and you only wake up when he shakes your shoulder a bit and helps you into an upright position. he feeds you bites of what is definitely not popcorn soup after putting a movie on your laptop, the screen sitting at the foot of your bed. the both of you fall asleep before the movie finishes, but you don’t mind.
he stays with you for days, making you soup and tea and toast and feeding you medicine and being an all-around angel as he nurses you back to health. by the time you’re better you think you’ve fallen back in love with him several times.
as you had expected and warned him about, he catches your sickness the next week, and now it’s your turn to be his nurse. you try and do the same job he did, but his delirium seems worse. the silver lining is that his fever isn’t as bad, so you’re babysitting a babbling boyfriend more than a sick one.
the night before his fever breaks is the worst, since he doesn’t even recognize you. you shake your head at his silliness when he asks who you are and calls you pretty. you smile when he takes your hand in his and asks you to come closer.
you tear up when he tells you that he has a girlfriend that he loves very much and so even though you’re pretty he can’t do anything else because his girlfriend is the prettiest one in the whole world. you let a tear slip when he tells you that he can’t wait to propose to his girlfriend and that he’s going to marry her someday.
you tell him that you have a boyfriend that you're going to marry someday, trusting that he wouldn’t remember it in the morning.
—
your hundredth and fifth date was not unlike your fifth, or your tenth, or your ninetieth. two and a half years later, you were just as endeared by him and he was just as obsessed with you - even more so, if it were possible.
he takes the time to tell you how gorgeous you look when he picks you up just like he does on every date, and you hide your disgustingly fond smile for him behind his back like you do every time you see him.
he parks and runs around the car to let you out like he does every time you habit this restaurant, a little fancier than your usual best but it was a favorite of the both of yours - across the street from the bar the two of you had met at.
you start walking before he does, letting him jog to meet you and complain about how you left him, just like you do every time. before him. you might have thought the monotony would have gotten tiring, but he had a fantastical ability to make every moment feel like the first despite their practiced nature.
he calls your name from behind you right on schedule and you hum in acknowledgement, turning towards him absentmindedly. the second you lay eyes on him you’re completely alert, though; he isn’t jogging after you, but rather he’s kneeling on the sidewalk, a small box in his hands as he smiles up at you.
“i’ve told you that i’m going to marry you more times than i can count,” he starts, eyes shining like the stars twinkling in the night sky above you. “but this time i’m asking you.”
“chan,” you choke out, hands coming up to cover your mouth as it quivers. tears spring to your eyes and you silently curse yourself - you always thought you’d be level headed when you got proposed to, but nothing could have prepared you for this, not even the thousands of declarations he had made to you prior.
“i love you. you’re the only one in the entire universe that i need more than blood or breath, you’re the song that runs through my heart and the fire that leads my path when i’m lost,” his voice is thick, like he’s trying to hold back his emotions long enough to get his words out. “i never thought that i would feel so strongly for someone, i never thought that i deserved a love like this until i met you.”
he pauses as you walk closer to him, letting you approach him before he continues.
“my love, my eternal light,” he’s tearing up now, blinking fast to keep the salty water at bay. “will you marry me?”
“chan,” you start, kneeling down next to him and taking his wrists in your hands. “i never told you this, but ever since that first day i knew. i knew that the drunk idiot that was hitting on me would be my husband.”
he chuckles, smiling delightedly as the tears finally spring from both of your eyes in unison.
“so?” he trails off, searching your face with his eyes, waiting.
“oh!” you tighten your grip on him in an apology. “of course i’ll marry you, gosh i love you so much.”
#stray kids imagines#stray kids fluff#stray kids#skz fluff#bang chan imagines#bang chan fluff#bang chan x reader
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cw: arranged marriage, fluff, neglect at the beginning, ratio falling hard, pining, ratio being jealous of aventurine, unedited bc i wrote this with my heart not my brain
my brain has been thinking about an arranged marriage fic with dr. ratio...
he isn't kind to you at first, less than happy to share a life with a mere acquaintance. he's heard about you before in passing, noting your achievements with a grain of salt because nothing about you particularly mattered to him, irrelevant against the mass of scrolls and books he needs to read.
you don't really disturb his normal routine too much. you move in to his estate with a fair share of your belongings, but none of them crowd his house too much. you have your own room, pristine guest room unearthed by your artistic touch.
aside from dinners, you don't get to see each other too much. he starts his mornings early, getting up at the crack of dawn to exercise and start his day with a hearty meal. you wake up later, partaking in a slow morning, and if you glanced out the window, you might be able to see your husband running laps around the expanse of his gardens.
you admire his dedication and routine, it's fascinating to live beside a genius. everyday, the chest table that sits in the living room changes, the black and white pieces never remaining where you last recalled. the size of his blackboard is impressive, and yet too small to fit all of the formulas his brain remembers, hands effortlessly dancing along the surface to scratch number after number.
a frequent order of his estate is chalk. a new pile is delivered every three days, and he goes through them without fail every time.
during dinner, he tries to spare some conversation with you. you don't tell him too much about your day, not wanting to bore him with your menial chores. he's only half-listening either way, so you'll feign understanding about his work when he explains what he's up to.
ratio is not an attentive husband, but he doesn't mistreat you, either. he allows you to spend his assets without too much care, doesn't police your everyday tasks, and also doesn't bat an eye at other men or women. his pursuit of intelligence is important, and your wellbeing would not come in between that.
your monotonous, distant routine changes one autumn dusk. you're perched in the front yard with an easel set up before you, the sky in front of you now a blend of pink-purple hues. he returns home earlier than you expected, carriage stopping at the front of his estate, and he witnesses you in your tranquil state.
the paint strokes on the canvas before you are skilled, and show years of dedication to the craft. you're so invested in the piece before you, that you don't even hear him approaching until he calls your name.
"the night turns colder with each minute. shouldn't you come inside before you fall ill?" the scholar greets, and you're snapped out of your creative reverie, looking over at him.
"oh, i had not realised. let me clean up here, first." you take your canvas off the easel, but to your surprise, your spouse kneels down to organise your oil paints back into their box.
"make haste, then," he urges.
during dinner, he can't help but be curious over your hobby, the stubborn splotches of paint clinging to your hands visible to him. that night, you engage in uninterrupted conversation, and discover that he's an artist himself- a sculptor. it calms him, and all the statues reside in a removed room, adjacent to his study.
despite your years of matrimony, you had never once dared enter his study, but the design is so fittingly him. it is organised (well, as organised a genius can be), with shelves and shelves filled with books, discarded scrolls lay around the room, but even then, his taste for greco-roman aesthetics are seen. roman dorics act like stands for little plants, and his many certificates are displayed, along with other achievements.
(his study is overwhelmingly filled with them. though you knew of the merit of the man you were arranged to be married to, you had never known just how expansive the list is. perhaps, that only made him more intimidating to you, standing beside a genius does not feel so light to say anymore.)
he shows you his sculptures, and though many of them are... self portraits... the likeness is disgustingly accurate. it was as if he had casted himself in plaster and displayed it proudly. you wonder how long he must have stared in the mirror to perfect their appearance.
but, there are also various other formidable statues. some of people you recognise. you compliment his skill and don't get to see the blush that spreads along his cheeks.
it seems that you've chipped a way into his heart, because between brushstrokes and chiselled marble, he falls in love with you.
ratio knows he didn't start off being the best husband, but he tries to now, and begins by being present. asks you to dine together where possible, listens when you're talking about your day, and the two of you can be seen venturing downtown together; an unbelievable sight for those who believed that ratio was romantically inept.
perhaps, an even more unbelievable sight, was the soft smile on his face that glanced at you very adoringly, and how you remained unaware of his affections.
and, maybe a jealous veritas ratio is just as unbelievable.
he is practically glaring daggers at the side of a certain blond's head. ratio has never been fond of the scheming businessman, aventurine, and is even less so of the fact that you seem so close to him, more than you are with your own husband. you're speaking with him like how one would with old friends, a peaceful visit to the markets turned sour by his presence.
when you finally, finally, finally, bid farewell to aventurine, who gave ratio a look that signified he was up to no good, your husband held your hand in his gloved one with an unforgiving grip. his mood is dampened for the remainder of the day, and is only made better when you enquire about his sudden glumness, visiting his office to see if he was alright.
you leave him with a kiss on the crown of his head, and a whisper of 'goodnight', before retreating to your chambers, and the only thought that circulates in his head for the rest of the night is you, and how he's going to sweep you off your feet.
#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ earf's ideas that i'll never write#earthtooz: honkai star rail#dr ratio x reader#veritas ratio x reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#ratio x reader#dr ratio fluff#dr. ratio x reader
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Orders.
genre. mafia au. bodyguard!lee know x fem!reader
desc. your father is an elite, high ranking official in a mafia family. after your first kidnapping, a bodyguard was hired to ensure your safety.
warnings. nsfw. fingering & sex. torture. kidnapping. murder. violence.
wc. 10k
✉️ : this is my first writing after a 9 month hiatus. i apologize for the unannounced break and i will be answering and writing again shortly. enjoy! :)
You sit in a wooden chair, wheezing and thrashing from days of sleep deprivation and torment. Your body aches, wrists bruised and bloody from the ropes, and you almost feel like giving in and spilling Daddy’s secrets— allowing them to kill you and the family.
But you knew better than that. You knew that you'd be saved.
The gunshots and cries for help weren't unexpected from above the dark bunker.
With an ear-piercing creak, the door swings open and the shadow of a man emerges through the doorstep, shoes squeaking with fresh blood underneath.
He doesn’t let out a single word as he kneels to grab your face and examine it. Your attention follows the ring on his finger. An insignia that he is part of the family. You can depend on him.
But still, you wince, sharply inhaling as his fingers aggravate your wounds.
“Don’t get their blood in my wounds, I don’t know what kind of freaks they are,” You grumble, voice husky from days of screaming.
You let him turn your head, retaining eye contact with the floor as you grit your teeth.
“Relax,” he mumbles, “I don’t bite.”
He leans closer to examine your wounds. “You took a lot of hits. How many people are here?”
He draws back as you reply, “Can’t tell you exactly.”
“About four of them grabbed me while I was leaving the house— stupid on their part, no wonder you were here so shortly,” You trail off before catching yourself back on topic.
“But I’ve only seen three different men since I’ve been here. Only to beat me and interrogate me. Don’t worry, I didn’t say anything to put Daddy at risk.”
“I heard two other unrecognizable voices. That would make nine people in the building that I know of. Of course, there could always be more. How many did you shoot?”
“Six,” he responds before looking down at your scrapes and wounds again.
You feel him caress your cheek once more, his cold skin sending shivers down your spine.
“You’re in bad shape.”
“If there’s more here, we need to get out as soon as possible. We can worry about my wounds as soon as these people aren’t on our ass.”
You struggle in your bounds, the ropes burning your already bloody wrists, “Could you untie me, first?”
“Don’t move.”
You obey his command, halting as he unties the ropes, uncovering the painful burn marks and blisters.
“That fucking hurt,” you rotate your wrists, “I could’ve gotten out without your help eventually, though.” Your voice is rough, breath coming out in harsh, sharp drags.
“Sure, you would’ve.”
You stumble to your feet as he pulls you into him for safety. He reeks of gunpowder and high-dollar cologne— presumably something that Daddy has made sure that he has the money for.
“Stay close to me, when we get to the front, you go out first and then I’ll leave right after.”
You follow the unfamiliar man out of the maze, almost slipping on the floor blanketed in blood.
You adjust to the bright sunlight— and it feels gentle against your damaged skin. It seems like time has stood still while you were captured. “Did Daddy order you a car?”
“Yes,” he answers, “Some men are waiting out front to take us to the closest hospital— which isn’t too far.”
“I’m being hospitalized?” You follow him into the backseat, finally slacking for a moment ontop of the fresh leather.
“It’s not my choice to have you taken to the hospital, it’s the orders.”
“Do I have a statement to tell the nurse?” You look at him in concern.
“Am I supposed to say, ‘Oh, I was kidnapped by Daddy’s enemies! By the way, he’s in the mafia! Who wants to arrest Daddy?’”
“Tell them you fell down the stairs.” His flat tone contrasts your own, remaining unfazed.
“How would that cover up my wrists' burn marks?” You hold up the bloody and bruised dents, “Nobody gets these from falling down the stairs. There's way too much blood— and some of it isn’t even mine.”
He raises an eyebrow, looking over to the burn marks on your wrist and then back to you.
“Then tell them you accidentally burnt yourself while cooking.”
“Are you even listening to me? Are you stupid?”
He doesn’t respond for a moment, not seeming to care about the situation.
“It’s not hard to pay them to be silent.”
“How about I tell them that I was heavily bullied at school and a couple of classmates did this to me? I think that could work.”
You two arrive at the front entrance of the emergency room, he follows behind you, strolling through the automatic door.
“I’m fine, really, I was just beaten by classmates,” You lie through your teeth to the front desk, “My boyfriend took me here to get it checked out.”
He raises an eyebrow.
You comply with the nurses as they check your weight and interview you.
“I don’t have any stab wounds, at least I don’t think so— I don’t remember what they did to me. I was held captive for a few,” Your voice trails off as you wince at a sudden pang.
You glance down at your bleeding side and are unexpectedly whacked with all of the distress that you had been repressing at once.
Your vision starts to fade, face pale as a ghost.
The man rushes over as they carry you to a bed, and he kneels beside you to review your condition. Your body is pale and cold, breathing jagged and rapid.
You hear the whispers of the staff panicking. One nurse checks your pulse, and another elevates your legs.
“I need my blood sugar up,” the first words that come out of your mouth sound weak and painful.
You look over at the man beside you.
You need to lie. But you don’t even know his name.
“Boyfriend,” you determine, “please get me a sugary drink from the vending machine.”
A subtle smirk forms upon his lips, but it vanishes as soon as it appears.
“Fine,” he rises to his feet.
You hiss as the nurses sterilize your wounds, shrieking and thrashing on the mattress at the sting. You try to stay still, but the pain is intolerable.
Footsteps echo and you find the man returning with a chocolate bar, which he holds out to you. He brings it close to your lips and holds the chocolate against your mouth for you to take a bite, “Slowly.”
“I told you to get me a drink,” You disregard his command, biting the chocolate quickly, almost aggressively.
His lips turn up, amused by your action.
The nurses finish stitching up your deep gashes and bandaging your wounds, recommending that you stay the night.
“Pay for the bill with Daddy’s cash and let’s get out of here,” you state coldly, “I need to shower and get all of this blood out of my hair. I don’t want to stay here.”
“As long as you can walk by yourself, we can leave right away.” He replies. The man takes out a wad of bills quickly counts the money and pays for the bill.
You stay speechless until entering the car.
“Who are you?”
“I’m your bodyguard. Your father hired me to look out for you after the kidnapping.”
You nod in acknowledgment. “Will you be staying at the estate with me? Or is it a ‘only when I leave the house’ kind of deal?”
“My primary duty is to protect you from anyone or anything that could harm you, whether that be outside or inside the house. I could go wherever you wish me to follow you, and I will be there.”
“You won’t sleep in bed with me though, right?”
He stays silent for a moment.
“You are correct, I am here to protect, nothing more. I will not sleep next to you. I am merely your bodyguard and take your orders.”
“Good boy,” you grin, “I bet Daddy will pay you very nicely. Why else would you take this job? How much does he give you? Either way, I’m sure you have enough to buy a mansion.”
The bodyguard holds back an eye roll. “I will have more than enough money. Not only that but he also provides me with a home.” He adds with a smirk.
“Good.” You reply.
You fall silent, allowing him to drive, taking in the past few days.
You were never worried about surviving, You understood that Daddy would handle it. But you didn’t expect to be as hurt as you were.
He could’ve saved you sooner.
“When we get home, order the chef to make me something sweet, I deserve a treat,” you state, “I’m going to shower and you are not allowed to enter my bathroom under any circumstance. Even if I’m dying.”
“You would die before letting me enter your bathroom? I get it.” He retorts.
Once you both arrive at the estate, you stumble out of the car. You don’t linger for him.
You’re welcomed by a handful of workers as you enter the home, but ignore them as you make a beeline up the stairs and towards the bedroom.
The door locks behind you and the room is silent. You feel the weariness creep on as your wounds sting. You lean against the door, sliding down.
After a moment of peace, you head towards the shower to comb the dried blood out of your hair.
You scrub your face carefully, avoiding the stitches above your eyebrows.
You wash your body entirely, removing the blood stains with soap, water, and a wash rag. Then you comb out the dried blood.
Once you finish, you dry yourself off and dress in a plain, silk nightdress.
Leaving your bedroom, you turn to look for your guard. He is at the doorway of your room when you walk out. His eyes roam around your body for a brief moment, examining the nightgown.
“Do you require assistance?”
“Did you place an order for something sweet, like I asked?” You peer at his suit, moving in to adjust his tie.
He follows your hand as it moves, eyeing you for a few moments before he utters, “I did, the chef will be bringing it to your room once it’s prepared.”
“Good boy.”
You look up at his face once you are pleased with the positioning. You grimace at his sharp, cold face. The blood was dried, brown, and unpleasing. The man’s hand relaxes on the gun holstered on his hip.
“I order you to come into my bedroom.”
His eyebrows crease. He understands his role as your bodyguard— nonetheless, he doesn’t get a kick out of being ordered around in this tone.
He takes a deep breath. “Your wish is my command.”
The room is massive, a silk-covered canopy bed sits in the center of it. He pays no mind to looking around, concentrating on the job at hand.
“Sit down on my bed,” you demand, steering towards the bathroom and pushing open the double doors.
He obeys your orders without question, crossing his legs, and keeping his hand resting beside his gun.
The bodyguard keeps a close, attentive eye on the doors, supervising the way that you soak a washrag with warm water, squeezing out the excess.
You sit beside him, grabbing his chin and leaning into his face. He tenses.
“Relax, I don’t bite,” you smirk, reiterating his first words from the moment he met you back to him, massaging the dried blood off of his face, “No guard of mine will have a messy appearance.”
You can tell that he feels uneasy, but he can’t reject you. If you wish for him to relax, he will make an effort to relax.
You can’t help but notice his complexion when he isn’t scowling. The apathy melts away as you wipe the dried blood, giving you a new perspective on his appearance.
“You’re handsome,” you state bluntly, “Especially without blood covering your face.”
You toss the rag into the laundry basket carelessly, waiting for a maid to take care of it.
“Thank you.”
“What is your name? You never told me.”
His eyebrows arch slightly at the question.“It’s Minho.”
“I am Y/N,” You reply, holding out your hand to shake his own. His grip is firm and warm.
He keeps a stoic face as he glances at your face and back at your hand, as if he is searching for an ulterior motive behind this handshake.
The food.
The bell rings and the sound of it shatters the stillness of the room. Minho’s head jolts towards the door, hand back on his gun.
He rises instantly, opening it to reveal the maid with a tray of sweet snacks.
He takes it from her. “I will bring it in.”
“What a good boy, Minho,” you praise, clapping your hands together as he sets the tray on your lap.
“I don’t take you for a man who enjoys sweet food much. Do you like sweets?”
“Sometimes.”
You unwrap a piece of high-dollar chocolate, “I command you to open your mouth.”
Minho can’t deny you, it would be disobeying your orders.
He opens his mouth as the chocolate is positioned between his lips.
You relish in the chocolates with Minho and once finished, you set the tray on the floor for a maid to pick up at sunrise.
“I don’t think I mind you being around all that much, Daddy makes good decisions.” You lay down on the mattress.
“Your father does make good decisions.”
His gaze wavered on your face until you drifted off to sleep. Only then did they slowly trail down to your body.
The way your body was built captivated him. Minho was glued to your sleeping form.
He stayed in the room, taking a seat on a chair in the corner to watch you.
He didn’t know how long it had been since you had dozed off, but by the way that the room was now pitch black and noiseless aside from your figure rising and falling, he would imagine that it had been a couple of hours.
“How long are you going to sit there?” Your sleep-filled voice questions him, causing him to snap out of his daze, hand reaching for his gun out of instinct.
“Do you sleep? Are you allowed to sleep?”
“I will only remain in the room as long as you order me to. I do sleep,” He replies, “Now is there anything else you need my assistance with? Or can I return to my duties?”
“So you’re only staying in the room because I ordered you two hours ago?” There’s a tinge of dismay in your voice, but it was masked by sleep, “You can leave if you want, I don’t mind.”
Minho felt a sudden pit in his stomach. You sounded disappointed by his statement.
Your words are perplexing him, and he can’t conclude what you want from him. To stay or to go?
“Should I stay for a bit longer?”
You were already asleep again once he had responded.
You and Minho both wake to a maid opening the blinds and ringing a bell. You groan, stretching your body.
“Miss, let’s get you dressed for today.”
She pulls your nightgown up above your head as Minho’s eyes wander toward your laced underwear.
“What’s on my schedule for today?”
He quickly forces his gaze to look away and stares back at the maid.
“We want you to heal from your injuries, miss,” she answers, “we will start with a nutritious breakfast to encourage recovery, and attend to your injuries, and then you will speak with Daddy about your incident.”
The maid buttons your fitted dress, glancing in Minho’s direction, “Your bodyguard will need to be there for your conversation with Daddy.”
“He will?”
“He needs to tell Daddy what he witnessed from the facility.”
You nod, following her lead down the stairs and towards the breakfast table.
Minho follows suit, remaining at your side the entire time and he watches you eat, staying observant and cautious.
“Are you hungry?”
This question catches Minho off guard.
“No.” He adds in a dull tone— but in actuality, he is starving. He was entrusted to watch over you. He shouldn’t eat on the clock.
“Maid, go order,” You look Minho up and down, “A side of crepes. Blueberry crepes. And two cups of coffee.”
The maid hurries to the kitchen to place the order, and it is brought out a couple of minutes later.
He stares at the crepes being placed on the table, and his belly grumbles. “Thank you.”
The maid carries the mugs of coffee to the table. But it doesn’t take Minho long to catch sight of her cunning smile and the perplexing liquid that the maid slipped into the mugs of coffee.
He stares quietly, calculating his next action.
“Don’t drink it.”
“Why not?”
Minho’s sight narrows as you bring the cup of coffee to your lips.
This time, his tone is warning and direct. “It’s better that you don’t.”
You halt your sip at his harsh command.
The maid pulls out a handgun swiftly after realizing that she has been caught, aiming it at you.
A switch swiftly flips inside of him.
He lunges forward, grabbing the woman’s wrist and twisting the gun to the right, snapping a couple of fingers in the process.
It’s a rapid movement, and he had little time to think before shooting her in the head, watching the life leave her body. His face is apathetic and almost casual.
The maid’s blood spilled onto the floor as the others ran to clean it up.
“He passed the test, we can keep him. A promising guard so far,” Daddy compliments from behind you, “Urgently acting to protect. He knew that she was mindless and weak. He comprehends crises well.”
The older man slips a wad of cash into the breast pocket of Minho’s suit. “Good on protecting her. That was a setup with a stupid maid who was just aching to betray us. You will have the same fate if you are wavered by another team.”
“I think he’s a good boy. He won’t betray me.”
“Y/N, meet me at my office. Guard, follow her.” He swiftly turns away to lead the two of you as you eye Minho.
“You can relax now. No more tests.”
He nods in understanding, heeding silently towards the office.
“Tell me about what you saw at the facility.”
You nod. “Four men had taken me from our garden entrance and used Chloroform to knock me unconscious. I woke up in their van, where my hands and legs were tied. I heard them talking about what they planned to get out of me. They had intentions of murdering me if they got to a week of no answers.”
Minho listens to your explanation with hawk-like eyes, paying close attention to all the details and descriptions.
You clear your throat, running your fingers across your bruised wrist, “I was tied to a chair in their questioning room, and they used forms of torture for me to open up.”
“I was deprived of sleep and beaten if they caught me closing my eyes— trying to get my lack of sleep to cause me to open up about your activities.”
Daddy nodded solemnly, leaning into his chair.
“Waterboarding was their favorite method, but they enjoyed beating me. I assume that was mainly for fun.”
You continued, “Minho appeared and killed a couple of them and saved me, but most are still alive.”
“Still alive? You didn’t find and kill them, bodyguard, why?” Daddy’s intense eyes moved toward Minho, who appeared unbothered.
The fact that he missed a few guys is enough to drive him crazy.
“I had to get her to safety as soon as possible.”
Daddy merely nods. “I will send my men after them. Y/N, did you get any names?”
“They wouldn’t tell me anything about themselves, but I saw a couple of signs of their rival gang.”
“Guard,” he veered towards Minho, “Describe the faces that you saw. I need as much information as possible.”
“They look to be between the ages of 20 to 30, their faces covered in scars. One man had dark skin, and his facial scars were faded. His most notable feature was a slit across his brow. He wore a dark suit. I left him alive but with a bullet in his arm. The other man had a lighter skin tone and his scars were similar to knife wounds. He had gotten away.”
The boss nods.
“Good. I can work with that. Never let my little girl get into trouble like that again, alright?”
The second the words ‘my little girl’ leave his mouth, Minho can’t help but gaze at you. He observes your reactions and motions.
His heart beats by hearing his boss call you that, and his attention is now focused on every single twitch that you make.
“The nurses will be waiting in her bedroom shortly. Be good and do as they say.” He adds, snapping Minho back to him.
“Guard, do not let her go against any of the nurses' rules. She can be convincing. Do not give into it.”
“Yes Sir.”
You roll your eyes, turning away to leave the room.
“Stay safe.” That is the last utterance of the boss before you drag Minho out of the room and towards the bedroom.
“Sit on the bed,” a nurse commands you, and you quickly obey.
She dabs at your abdomen stitches with antiseptic soap and your eyebrows furrow.
“You can’t move around much, got it? No exercising for three weeks until we get these stitches out.”
You agree as she moves on to your wrists, rubbing cream into them, “You’re going to visit us twice a day for six days until the healing is almost complete.”
She yanks a bandage off of your face, causing you to groan in pain. She rubs another ointment on it before substituting it with fresh dressing.
Minho supervises each step that the nurse takes, noticing how she takes care of your body as if it’s her most precious gift.
She turns to Minho, “I need you to make sure that she’s well rested, drinking enough water, and not doing many straining activities. Take her back here once again in the evening, and then we will see her again this time tomorrow morning, got it?”
“Yes, I will take care of her.”
“What about him, nurse?” You eye the small cuts across his face and hands.
She smiles and leans over to you. “He is well trained. Trust me, he’ll survive a few scratches.”
Your eyes narrow. “I order you to treat his wounds to the best of your abilities.”
She sighs. “Yes ma’am.”
She moves towards Minho and checks his wounds, patching the ones that were newly caused. She brushes his face softly with an ointment.
“I don’t like it when my guards don’t keep up a good appearance,” you try to explain away your worry for him, “and being injured will only slow you down when protecting me.”
The man stares straight ahead, listening carefully. “I’m fine. I’ll recover just fine. I don’t need much care as you do.”
“Let her rest now,” the nurse tells Minho, “order the maids to bring her a glass of water and have her sip on it until lunchtime.”
Once she leaves, Minho turns towards you, “I’ll make sure the maids bring you water. You need to stay hydrated”
Once water is on your table, your gaze returns to Minho
“Now, I order you to sit down on my bed with me.”
He examines you with a neutral expression and waits for you to say what you mean, not wishing to assume or take anything wrongly.
“Sit down with me,” you demand again, patting the spot beside you, waiting for him to follow suit.
As soon as you ask him to, Minho does not waver. He sits down beside you, body brushing your own.
You turn to meet his cold expression with intensity. “Do you like your job so far?
Minho is taken off guard by your switch of topic. He stays where he is sitting, but turns his body as well and faces you.
“I enjoy my duties.”
“Good. Because I’m fond of you. You’re handsome, and you are good at your job.”
He stares at you with slight surprise. “Thank you.”
Your hands grab for his, playing with the ring on his finger.
Then, you reach your hands higher, tugging his sleeve up to reveal a cluster of scars littered across his forearm.
“How long have you been in the business?”
“Since I was fourteen. I was trained from a very young age.”
“Have you always been in Daddy’s family?”
“I was loyal to your Daddy from the moment I knew what this life was like. I haven’t had a moment of doubt.”
“Good. That means you won’t leave us, right?”
“I will serve your family until my last breath. You have nothing to fear about that.”
“What a good boy,” you reach to ruffle his hair, landing a swift kiss on his sliced cheek. “That’s exactly what I like to hear.”
Minho stiffens.
“I order you to take off your jacket. I want to see your body. To see if you’re strong enough to be a good guard.”
Your words are sharp as a knife and they cut deep through his defense system. His jaw clamps and his breathing accelerates.
Minho swallows his breath, nodding his head. His movements are rigid, starting to cautiously peel off his jacket. It takes him a moment to unbutton it, but once his jacket is off, he stays there, waiting.
You slide his jacket to the floor, touching the muscles of his bicep through his button-down. “You’re fit. That’s good.”
Minho yearns for you to keep feeling him. To keep praising him. He swallows. Your words sound like a honey trap to him, and it’s working as intended.
“I order you to take off your tie.”
“Yes.”
That is all that he says, slowly slipping his tie from underneath his collar and tossing it aside.
Unexpectedly, you’re climbing on top of his body. “Take off your button-down.”
He unbuttons his shirt as your eyes sear into his chest. He is now only wearing a black undershirt.
“So many clothes,” you sigh out, groping his bare arms. You run your hands across his biceps, listening to him shudder underneath the touch.
“Take off your undershirt now. I want to see your chest.”
You can feel the heat radiating off him as he shivers. His body is now sensitive, and your hands are making it worse for him.
Your orders are evident, and he hastily lifts off his undershirt, waiting for what is next.
You can see his whole chest with all of its blemishes, with every muscle covered in sweat, exposed for you.
Your hands travel down his chest and abdomen, feeling each ragged scar with your bruised fingers. The delicate contact causes his breath to catch and a soft groan leaves him, fighting to not show that he relishes in your touch.
“Let me kiss you.”
He stares at you for a moment before his eyebrows slightly shift— his way of showing you that he approves of that request.
Minho leans in slightly and closes his eyes, gently placing a timid kiss on your lips.
You smirk against him, pushing him to lie against the bed frame and deepening the kiss. Your hands reach for his dark hair, clasping a handful in your grip.
He kisses you deeply and wraps his arms around you to pull you in closer, offering full control to you. His breath speeds up.
You pull away after a moment, lips brushing against his as you catch your breath, but only for an instant before moving towards his jaw, sucking marks onto his skin.
Minho quivers at your touch, his breathing speeding up once more as you leave red and purple blemishes on his skin. He bites his lip to stop himself from groaning.
Your mouth moves from his jaw to his neck, leaving kisses and hickeys all across him, making sure that he is covered in them.
Your hips grind against him, breathing heavily with anticipation as you make your way to his chest.
Your hands and mouth are touching all of him, and each sensation triggers a reaction that he tries to conceal.
Your lips hover back to his lips, staring at him longingly. “Do I have to command you for you to do anything to me? You don’t have to ask. You have my permission. Do whatever you want.”
You can see his gaze shifting from your eyes to your mouth, to your neck, and then towards your chest.
You swiftly lift yourself off of him to let him remove your dress, leaving your body as bare as his own.
You grasp onto his neck, bringing him in for another deep kiss. Minho remains silent as he kisses you, allowing you to leave him as many marks as you desire.
“What are you thinking, Minho? Speak to me.”
He takes a moment, letting out an unstable breath. “I’m thinking of what you are doing to me. I,” he stammers, “I want to make you feel good.”
“Then do it. Please.”
“I don’t want to harm you,” he breathes out, “you’re injured.”
“The nurses said to not do,” Minho presses his eyes shut as you bring your hips up to meet his, “fuck, anything straining.”
“Remember what Daddy said? I can be convincing.” You sneer as your bodyguard fails to keep his cool composure, but the aching cock pressing into you is giving his true desires away.
You eye his internal struggle between following your orders and his cravings, or the nurse and his boss.
“I don’t want to hurt you. I can go relieve myself in the bathroom.”
“I like being hurt.”
You notice his lip twitch at the comment, and you decide to provoke him further, grinding into him, and set a steady rhythm with your hips.
He groans as his head drops back, tugging onto your hair and trying desperately to control his breath, “Please, Y/N, I just want to take care of you.”
“You can take care of me in another way.”
“I need to follow orders.”
“Then I order you to fuck me.”
His eyes pinch shut as he tries to clear his head and reason with himself.
Perhaps if he were gentle, it would be alright.
But how long could he remain gentle when you were splayed out in front of him, willing to take anything that he gave to you?
He made his decision, gripping your shoulders gently and flipping you, pinning you to the bed, and surveying your face for any discomfort.
When he finds none, he impatiently unclasps his belt, throwing it to the floor along with his dress pants, leaving him in just his boxers.
You hold yourself up by your elbows, thighs pressed together and mouth watering at the man in front of you.
His hands were delicate, although they could easily snap you in half, as he unclasped your bra, leaving your top half bare.
Minho stopped to take in the view for a moment before grabbing at one of your breasts, his mouth attaching to the other.
Your whines were like music to him— something that he wanted to hear more of.
Your back arched in pleasure as he moved one hand down to your thigh, caressing it for a moment before slowly slipping his hand into your panties.
“Try to stay quiet, darling, I don’t want any staff checking on us,” He hushed you with his lips attaching to your own once again, feeling your wetness all over his calloused hands.
His thumb brushed against your clit and you whimpered into his mouth, clenching around nothing.
Minho then plunged two fingers deep inside of you and curled them. He was becoming lost in pleasing you, overlooking his own ache between his legs.
Your thighs shook beneath him, feeling him brush against your g-spot brutally. “Minho please, please just fuck me. I want you inside of me so bad.”
At your request, he slipped his fingers out, feeling your cries against his lips from the loss of friction.
“Yes ma’am.” He pulled away from your lips, replacing them with his now dripping fingers, lapping it up with his tongue.
Next, your ruined panties were yanked off of you, with his boxers soon to come after.
One hand gently relaxes on your hips, cautious to avoid aggravating your injuries as he uses the other to guide himself inside of you, a deep groan followed by your whines.
He gives you a moment to handle the stretch, but you hardly need it, already begging for him to move.
Minho cautiously thrusts, taking in a deep breath and furrowing his eyebrows in concentration.
This is the ultimate test of patience for him. He needs to be as gentle as possible with you.
Ultimately, he sets a slow pace, hands locating themselves on either side of you, letting out uneven breaths as he tries to control himself from how good you feel around him.
“You really do care, don’t you?” Your hand reaches to cup his face, gazing into his eyes that are hazy with pleasure.
He keeps his response short, too concentrated on the waves of bliss through each thrust, “I do care.”
“Is it because you’re my bodyguard or something more?”
You study him, watching his adam’s apple move as he swallows deeply, inhaling sharply. He halts his thrusts for a brief instant.
“Both, maybe. I can’t tell.”
That was enough for you to continue, grabbing another handful of his hair and bringing him in for another hungry, deep kiss.
With each deep thrust, Minho’s mind got hazier and hazier, losing himself to pleasure bit by bit. You could feel it by the way his rhythm became rough and desperate, and his pace picked up.
One of his hands left your side, creeping towards your throbbing clit, causing you to let out sobs, all of which he ate up with his mouth against your own.
“Are you gonna cum for me?” He coos, knowing that you’re too lost in bliss to respond.
He takes your whines as a ‘yes’, his thumb rubbing circles faster, coaxing your orgasm out of you.
Your walls fluttered around him, squeezing your eyes closed and letting out a lengthy, drawn-out moan as his pace picked up even further.
“Just like that. You’re so good for me, so, so good, fuck,” he talked you through your orgasm between his thrusts, chasing his own high.
His brows crease, hips stuttering at how good it felt to have you gripping so tightly onto his cock. Finally, he let go, his load spilling inside of you and seeping out.
Both of you took an instant to catch your breath, coming down from your highs.
His hands slowly traced your curves in contentment, paying attention to the way your chest rose and fell.
Finally, he has a justification to gape at your body up close.
From your jawline to your hickey-covered chest, down to your bruised sides and stitches near your abdomen, and— Oh fuck.
Your wounds.
Minho slowly pulls away, feeling a sense of post-nut clarity and fright.
His hand slides away from your body, staring at you with concern.
“What’s wrong?” You ask, your own anxiety suddenly displayed on your face, “Do you regret it?”
“No! No,” He panics, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?“
Back in reality now, your wounds ache and your head pounds with exhaustion and overexertion.
His mind calculates the solutions to the situation— ways to explain to the nurses, to fix you, to help you feel better.
It was his shortcoming, after all. He let his urges get to him.
“Let’s run you a bath.” He pulls himself up, tugging on his boxers and heading towards the bathroom.
You hear the tap turn on, lying in bed trying to catch your breath. Your breath is harsh from both adrenaline and pain, but you can’t help but feel as though the latter is more of the cause.
You had slept with a small handful of men, primarily Daddy’s men, but none of them were quite like Minho.
He was tough but breakable. He was still kindhearted at his core— something that wasn’t all that common in the business.
You could tell from the way that he ran the bath, bare muscles glistening from sweat, running his hand through the water to make sure that it was the ideal temperature. How concerned he was about your protection, even through his pleasure.
Not many other men that you’ve met throughout your life have been the same way.
You’re quite fond of the man that you have just met.
You hear the water shut off and footsteps coming towards the room. He holds a faint smile as his steps come towards the bed. Your gaze slowly wanders to his physique.
“It’s ready for you.” He says in a slight whisper.
“I order you to pick me up and bring me to the bath.”
He nods at your order, hooking his arms underneath your thighs and back, his strong grip securing you.
You inhale the powerful stench of gunpowder stuck to his skin, finding comfort in your bodyguard’s presence.
“Will you wash my hair?”
Studying his expression, it’s hard to read, but you let him carry you and place you into the water.
‘I do care,’ you recall his words.
‘Is it because you’re my bodyguard or something more?’ ‘Both, maybe. I can’t tell.’
Perhaps you had feelings for the man, especially while he massaged shampoo into your scalp with tough hands, making sure to rub your temples.
“Have you ever been a bodyguard before?”
When Minho hears your question, he hums while he proceeds to wash you, working on scrubbing the areas where he touched you earlier. “No, you’re the first one I’ve been a bodyguard for.”
“I did things for your father before this. Not as a bodyguard, a more, I guess, dangerous role,” he dismisses the question.
“Is that so?” You fall to silence as he continues to wash you, taking his time and guaranteeing that he gets every part. He hesitates when he washes around your injuries— every stroke and movement of his hands is smooth and temperate.
“Let me relax for a minute alone,” you murmur, “You should put your clothes back on, the maids should be here any moment to take my order for lunch. They won’t find it suspicious that I’m bathing, but they will question why you’re with me.”
Minho nods and pulls away from your body.
He stands up and his feet splash on the wet floor. He takes a double take at your closed eyes.
The way your body floats in the bath is something that catches his attention. You look very pleasing in such a vulnerable position.
He leaves the room, cracking the door to make sure that you are safe.
Minho buttons up his wrinkled shirt, pulling the jacket over it and smoothing it out to ensure that nobody suspects anything.
Minho’s eyes turn to the maid who enters the room with the ring of a bell.
His demeanor is unfazed, a hand on the gun in his pocket once more. He holds eye contact, his stare intense.
He would make sure that there wasn’t another incident.
“Where is Miss Y/N?”
“She is bathing at the moment.”
She nods, walking towards the bathroom and knocking on the door.
You hum, allowing her to enter.
“What would you like for lunch, ma’am?”
“I don’t know, surprise me.”
A few seconds go by as you immerse yourself entirely in the water before rising back to the surface.
“Minho,” you call out, “What would you like?”
You hear the faint sigh that Minho gives as a response back to your question.
“I’ll just have a sandwich or something, whatever you have is fine.” He replies to both you and the maid as she exits the bathroom, fulfilling her duty of reporting your lunch choice.
The bedroom door shuts behind her.
“Minho!” You call out once again, “I order you to take me out of the bath.”
A few seconds pass before you hear Minho’s footsteps come near the bathroom once again. He grabs a towel as you stand, body bare and dripping with water.
His eyes have an intense focus as he reaches out his hand.
Minho pulls you up from the bath wraps the towel around you, making sure to cover all of you, and begins to dry off your hair.
“Minho,” you begin, “Daddy can’t know about what happened. He’d shoot you dead on the spot.”
Minho pauses for a moment, his eyes darting across the floor.
He is silent for a moment. “I won’t reveal anything to him.”
“Good boy,” you cling to the towel covering your body, “Go fetch a maid to dress me. While she does so, I want you to change out of that suit and shower before lunch.”
“Then I’ll go shower now. I’ll be back.”
You hum in agreement, stepping towards your bedroom as a maid rings the bell.
You drop your towel, letting her sift through your drawers to find decent clothing.
She eyes a hickey on your breast, along with the other injuries across your body from the kidnapping.
“Your injuries look agitated, Miss Y/N, are you sure that a bath was the best idea for you?”
“Don’t question me,” you grumble, “I took a bath because I wanted to.”
“Yes, miss.” She pulls the dress above your head smoothes it out, and clasps a necklace behind your neck.
“You’re all set for lunch.”
The moment that you come out of your room, you can feel his presence. He is leaning against the front door of the room with an unreadable expression.
He has another suit on, a fresh one. Minho’s previously muskier, dark scent has been replaced by a new, sweeter fragrance.
“First shower at the estate?” You question, “Our soaps are quite lovely and mild on the skin. You smell wonderful.”
Minho’s lips curl at the compliment, looking you up and down, “Seems that we both are putting our best foot forward.”
You look around to see if anyone is watching before leaning to ruffle his damp hair and leave a kiss on his cheek, taking the man by complete surprise. He makes an effort to regain his composure, but you can see that his cheeks are blushed from the touch.
As soon as you lean in to lock arms, you feel him lean over to you to whisper something.
“I would love to do that with you again.”
You froze in your spot, heat rushing to your thighs.
You must regain your composure, caught off guard by his blunt words, something unlike the ordinary nature of Minho.
He takes a seat across from you, watching every move that the maid makes to be sure that she doesn’t try anything— he has learned his lesson.
“Pressed Italian Picnic Sandwiches and tea,” The maid states, setting the plates on the table.
You scrunch my nose up. “What’s in it?”
“Artisanal prosciutto, aged provolone, and sun-dried tomatoes inside of a crusty ciabatta,” She doesn’t hesitate to list the ingredients, “and a fragrant blend of rare loose-leaf teas with fresh cream and sugar cubes.”
She sets the teapot and cups out, along with a carton of cream and a bowl of sugar cubes.
Minho’s hand rests on his gun, waiting for her to leave before taking a sip of tea.
You follow his action, dumping a couple of cubes into your tea and bringing it to your lips.
I finish my lunch with Minho.
“Let’s go back to my room now. I'm exhausted.”
Minho nods his head and you both finish up the meals quickly.
You both leave the dining area and stroll back to your bedroom.
As soon as you get back into the room, you feel Minho close the door behind you.
You don’t hesitate to climb into bed and lie down.
The guard looks over at you, observing the way that your chest rises and falls as you breathe. He notices every movement that your body is making.
“I command you to lay down with me.” You lean back against the bed, your body still and eyes focused on his unmoving body.
He slips off his shoes silently, slipping into the canopy bed.
You grin, curling at his side, pressing against his body.
His breathing is deep and steady as he struggles to get into a more comfortable position.
Your mind began racing with questions about the mysterious man that you were slowly falling for, burying yourself further into the sheets.
“Minho,” you start slowly, “How did you become tangled with our family?”
Minho stays silent for a few moments and you feel his body shift a little against yours.
“I didn’t have a lot of money or family growing up,” he kept his answer short and simply, “the moment that this job came my way, I took it. The people connected to this business have always stayed on the down low, so this is an easy job to keep."
“Daddy seems to like you,” you grit your teeth.
Minho turns to you on the bed and sits up a little. He looks at you from top to bottom, reading the worry on your face with ease.
“You don’t have to worry about me.”
“He will kill you on the spot if he finds out. He’s done that to almost every man who has flirted or slept with me.”
You pause for a moment. “God forbid the one he hired as my bodyguard.”
“I am not so easily killed.” The words leave his mouth with a tinge of arrogance.
“I trust you.”
“Good.”
There is stillness between you both for a time, but he breaks it by grabbing your chin and leaning in to kiss you. You soothe into his touch, smiling against his lips briefly before he pulls away.
“I order you to stay here. Like this.”
It’s not difficult for you to drift off to sleep beside him, and as always, Minho pursues your request, keeping a close eye on you. You relax, your breathing slow, and he notes all of the occasional twitches and movements that you make in your sleep.
A couple of hours later, the door is knocked on by a maid.
“Dinner order?”
Minho jolts awake from the knock on the door, a hand swiftly placed on your shoulder to protect you from any threats before turning his head towards the noise.
His voice is full of sleep. “Repeat that?”
As she opens the door, there is a look of inquiry on her face, one that she won’t ask to ensure her job and health.
“Is she asleep?” She questions instead, glancing over at your peaceful figure.
He turns his head towards you to double-check, observing your napping body.
“Yes.”
“Alright. I’ll advise the chef to prepare her dinner later tonight.”
She gives a sharp nod to the guard and scurries out of the room, quietly shutting the door to not disturb the girl.
Minho’s eyes rest on the door for a moment, fully alert now with a hand resting on his gun.
Eventually, he turns over to you. He has his eyes on you for a few seconds before leaning down to kiss you on the forehead, letting out a small sigh.
You stir at the warm touch, scrunching your face up and stretching your body.
“What time is it?” You ask groggily before burying your head into his neck.
“Dinner is in about half an hour. You hungry?”
“Not really,” you pull yourself up and rub your sleep-filled eyes.
He notices your body shiver as you pull yourself up. Minho lets out a short exhale.
“Did you sleep?”
“A bit.” He doesn’t look away or turn his head as he admires the way you stand and stretch your body, smoothing your dress of its wrinkles.
You walk towards your vanity mirror, plopping down in the chair to readjust your necklace to the center. A few marks on your collarbone catch your eye.
“The nurses will be in shortly.” You grit your teeth. “I hope they don’t notice.”
“They won’t notice.”
His figure can be seen from behind you in the reflection of the mirror. His lips are turned upwards as he watches you fix your appearance.
You pull out a couple of foundations and concealers, working on concealing the marks left from earlier.
“The maids wouldn’t, but the nurses will tell the difference between a hickey and a bruise. Especially since these are fresh.”
Even though you are busy with your makeup and covering up the bruises, Minho’s eyes are never off of you. It is a feeling that you will have to get used to— always having a watchful eye on you.
Once you were satisfied with the coverage, you rose from your seat quickly.
“Get up, we’re going to dinner.”
“So bossy.” He retorts. “What will you have?”
“I want to go out, let’s go somewhere fancy. Daddy will pay.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You want to go out when you have had a beating just two days ago?”
He asks it like he thinks it’s an absurd idea, almost condescendingly, yet his tone of voice is soft and full of concern for you, causing your stomach to flip inside out.
“I’m tired of staying inside already. This estate is suffocating,” you pull on your slip-on shoes.
“That’s how I got myself into this mess in the first place. I left the house and got kidnapped. That won’t happen with you here.”
“I guess you’re right. We’ll go somewhere nice.”
“Good. I’ll go tell Daddy.” You leave the door open for Minho to come after but don’t wait for him, yet you can tell that he follows behind silently, attending to the way your body moves in the dress as you make your way down the halls.
The door is slightly ajar, so when you knock, it pushes open with a creak, revealing your father inside.
Minho stands behind you like a shadow, his lips pressed into a straight line, gaze locked on your father, keeping his distance from the both of you.
“Come inside,” the older man invites both of them with a welcoming grin, “sit.”
You can sense that your father has something on his mind, which is never a good sign.
“I was going to call you to my office shortly, anyway.” Instantly you assume the worst.
You sit down, taking a seat in front of him. Minho is still standing in the back, his priority on you and your father.
The man looks over at Minho. Their eyes lock for a moment. “Guard, go lock the door. There is a conversation that needs to be had.”
Minho nods and he turns his head, locking the door behind him.
He turns his attention back to you, who is frozen in your seat, breath hitching.
The elite man fiddles with a pen at his desk, clicking it to drown out the tense silence.
The silence in the room seems so heavy that you wonder how neither you nor Minho is feeling sick. Judging by the thick atmosphere between the three of you, it is easy to tell that he isn’t pleased right now.
He fidgets with the pen and you wait for him to finally speak.
“Do you find my daughter to be precious, Guard?” He addresses Minho with a stern voice, finally setting the pen down at his wooden desk with a smack.
“Yes sir,” Minho replies flatly.
“Are you willing to protect her at all costs, even at your life?”
After moments of silence, he answers back confidently. “Yes sir. I am.”
A hand comes to rest at his side, toying loudly with a handgun, which he eventually pulls out of his pocket.
Tears begin to well up in your eyes, yet Minho stays concentrated. There isn’t a single sign of fear on his face. He is unshaken, calm, and collected as if he had been foreseeing this exact scenario.
“Do you know why you were assigned to guard my daughter, Minho?”
“I know the reasons.”
“There was a leak to the rivals from a previous staff member that I had a precious daughter in my life,” He turns towards you, “the one that I had climbed to the top of my career to protect and assure her safety and security.”
He cleared his throat before darting back to Minho, “It took less than a day for her to be taken from my hands and placed in the hands of one of my greatest enemies.”
Minho pays attention to every word that he speaks and clears his throat, waiting for your father to continue.
“I care for my daughter more than anything in the world. Which is why I had appointed the most valuable, honest, and competent man in the family to ensure her protection.”
Minho nods.
“Please don’t kill him, Daddy.”
The boss meets you with cold eyes, disregarding your words to proceed with his lecture. “You are my most prized possession. I would hurt anyone or anything to make sure that not a single person touches you. The men who kidnapped you are all taken care of, wiped out by my command.”
He continues. “I know everything that goes on in your life. Every meal, every kiss, every injury, the staff must report every minor thing that occurs in your day. I have eyes on you at all times, and you’re more than aware of that.”
Your shoulders stiffen. He knew.
“Minho,” his stare is burning into the other man, “I’ll get to the point. Did you sleep with my daughter?”
He doesn’t blink. His body tenses up and his voice remains neutral.
��Yes.”
The boss turns the safety off of his firearm and you dig your head into your hands, unable to observe the scene that is about to unfold.
The gunshot is fired, but the man deliberately aims to the left of Minho, grazing his cheek with the bullet before standing up instantly from his seat. The guard doesn’t react with more than a blink as the blood pools at the cut.
“I trust you, Minho. You are a good man. If there is a single person who I would choose to give my daughter to, it would be you.”
Finally, Minho takes this as a sign to let his guard down for a moment as his shoulders drop, lip quivering slightly. It was evident that there was more emotion that the guard was holding back, especially when he took a moment to look away.
“You have my approval.”
Your eyes widen.
“Take care of my daughter. If you break her heart, I’ll feed your own heart to her for supper.”
“Understood.”
“Take her to dinner,” a wad of cash is pulled out from one of the drawers, “buy her flowers and anything else that she asks for.”
“Yes sir.” He responds, “I’ll make sure that she gets the treatment that she deserves.”
You run to embrace your father, to which he places an arm around you, rubbing your back before pulling away.
“Get yourself dressed more sufficiently, I will have a car ready for you soon.”
Minho follows you out of his office, letting out a breath that he had been holding in once the door was closed.
“Did you hear that?” Do you know what this means?” You beam at the man before grabbing at his cheeks and pulling him in for a kiss.
He lets out a surprised noise, hesitantly wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing back.
When you break the kiss, he stares back at you with the first big smile that you’ve seen from him displayed on his face.
“Let’s get you ready.”
#skz#stray kids#mafia skz#skz mafia#mafia skz imagines#stray kids mafia#mafia au#stray kids mafia au#mafia au skz#minho skz#lee minho stray kids#lee minho smut#lee minho fanfic#minho smut#minho scenarios#minho bodyguard#bodyguard au#skz fanfiction#skz oneshot#skz x reader#minho x reader#skz fanfic#skz imagines#skz smut#skz scenarios#skz lee know#lee know#stray kids lee know#lee know smut#mafia minho
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Helloooo! I saw that your requests were open for Hazbin- how about a reader who's a seraphim? Kind of Lucifer's protégé/child way before the creation of Eden, Adam, and Lilith.
And he just kind of left them up there alone and neglected because of her association/kind of Dad!Lucifer. So, it's kind of angsty seeing as how Lucifer was a better Dad to Charlie and the reader grew with envy and fell into that ring along with her brother (I've been seeing hc/rumor a lot) Cain.
What would happen their first meeting again? If this is too much I don't really mind so no worries! Have a nice day and thanks for reading!!
A/N: I’m sorry but I go by biblical too so this might be different but same concept and storyish
Like father like daughter
Lucifer x daughter Reader
Synopsis: Your dad left you young now you left him
How it started
You are my Sunshine My only sunshine
You make me happy When skies are grey
Little you giggles at your father’s little song for you and only you. You were an angel whose mother was long gone leaving just you and your father. You made grabby hands towards him making his heart melt before lift you up.
“Boop” you cutely said as you boop his nose making him chuckle. “Boop” he said back making you giggle this time.
“Okay baby it’s time for me to go to work so Uncle Castiel is gonna watch you okay baby?” He asked you making you nod happily before rushing to your uncles arms.
You never knew that was the last time you would see him and with that you cried and cried for your dad until Sera and the other Angels showed you he forgot about you, he had a wife and daughter….
You watched as he singed the same lyrics he sang to you to her. You were only 5 and parentless watching your father abandon you but staying for another that his. That’s when you grew up odd with another angel. You were evil or as they say a bad apple.
You were Cain’s secret friend encouraging him to kill his brother Abel. That when you were sent down in hell where your dad is but you never cared to look for him finding some friends of your own.
You were older and more mature then her but she was the youngest, and you were the oldest. Does that mean you had to made the sacrifice to be left?
Even so it hurts and your growing hate towards your father and sister grew stronger by the centuries.
With Lucifer though he was trying everywhere to find you, You were no where to seen in heaven and no where on earth so you must be in hell. But even then he couldn’t find you.
You grew close to Cain when he came to hell after being full of pride and thinking he could live without God and with his punishment. You saw him as a brother the only family you considered. You were never gonna be ready to let your other family in your life and you meant that.
When you were both getting ice cream You heard something. “___!” you turned around to see lucifer huffing and puffing finally catching up to you.
“My Sunshine! Woah have you grown into a-” you punched him in the face. You the eldest of Lucifer punched him in the face and my god it felt great to do. Your unbelievable smile widen as you saw his pain. Call it fucked up as you will but you almost laugh on how pathetic he was and to believe you looked up you him.
“Don’t… Don’t call me that. I thought we both grew out of that nickname a long time ago” You mumbled before turning away from him having nothing else to say.
“___ I was trying to protect you! Don’t you understand I was going to come back for you. I-“COME BACK TO ME? NOW THATS BULLSHIT “DAD” BECAUSE SPENDING TIME WITH YOUR OTHER BORN WAS NOT LOOKING FOR ME” You interrupted him turning into your full demon form Lucifer looked at you in shocked and stunned.
“I was 5 waiting for my own father to come home” You stated calmly as Lucifer looked at you with tears in his eyes.
“Please give me another chance, I love you too much to let you go” He pleaded taking you hand but you yanked it straight away.
“You gonna know how it feels to let go of the person you” You growled before walking away from him.
“You’ll never know dear, how much I love you. Please…. Don’t take my sunshine away” He prayed as tears slipped down his eyes reaching out to you knowing your already far from him. knowing he lost his firstborn hurt
“Daddy! teach me how to dance!” A little you say as Lucifer looked up as a little you held your hand towards him he tried to reached but then you just faded. That little girl was long gone the moment he didn’t take you with him.
#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer x reader#lucifer x you#lucifer imagine#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel x you
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Did I Do Good? / Nanami Kento
tags/warnings: (18+), age gap (reader is 22 + nanami is 32), infidelity, smut, blowjob, pet names (little lady, baby) daddy kink, mention of wife, bimbofication, reader used to be stripper/sex worker, black-coded reader
“Kento Nanami, you lucky bastard.” His co-worker slapped a hand on his shoulder much to his surprise. “Please tell me she’s got a sister…” He couldn’t remember the guy’s name but he knew he was hating the way he was eyeing you. The guy was swaying and slurring his words, licking his lips.
He wasn’t even this protective of his wife. He internally cringed at the thought.
None of his colleagues brought along anyone, using this business trip as an escape. He brought you. But in a way you were his escape, an escape from it all.
He just brushed off the comment but really it was hard to do especially since your arrival and what you were wearing:
A frilly hot pink skirt that hugged your hips and that was a tad bit short and constantly raising paired with a very tight light pink corset that made your breast look ever larger than they were. Even the high boots you were wearing that made everyone look at how long your legs were was making him uncomfortable. You even decided to get your hair done in a new style: long black pin curls that flowed heavenly down your shoulders. He watched multiple men wave at you and talk to you while you giggled and typed on your phone.
He didn’t want anyone staring at you.
He wanted to lock you up in the room. But he knew that was too much, this trip was all you’d been talking about for the past month since he causally mentioned it in passing.
“Kenny baby are you serious? We’re going to New York?” Your voice was so high pitched and happy even though he wasn’t planning on bringing you at first.
It was a business trip. With you around he barely got any work done. He’d find a way to have you milking his cock with that pretty pussy even if you’d only just woke up instead of scheduling his meetings, attending his meetings or anything.
“Yeah baby,” He watched your eyes light up in such delight and with a squeal you wrapped your arms around his neck. “But this is an important business trip for me, so I might not be around as much as you like… but I’ll give you your favorite card of mine to have fun with, you’d like that yeah?”
You pouted a bit, “I mean sure but I’ll be so sad without you,”
“I’ll try to get out of all my meetings a bit early so that I can at least make it to one of your fashion shows after your shopping spree, yeah?”
You pulled back to smile at him and nodded before kissing him all over. “Okay Ken.”
It was warm and he knew you dressed appropriately but fuck he didn’t like how everyone was looking at you like a piece of meat. Even he was.
You skipped slightly back towards him with the keycard in hand. “Penthouse suite…ooh, you’re spoiling me, Ken.” You told him, biting your lip. He knew what that meant. He smirked and wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close to him.
“Well, I’m going now.” He quickly told his coworkers and dragged you to the elevator.
“Ken! You’re so rude!” You playfully glared at him. You turned back to his coworkers and waved, “Bye, see you boys soon.”
He could practically hear them swooning and didn’t bother to look back as he heard them saying your name and “goodbye”.
When the elevator door finally opened, he hurried to step inside interrupting your waving.
“You like making me jealous?” His eyes were intense as he stared down at you. He quirked a brow, “You think it’s cute? Funny?”
“Kento, you’re being too serious.” You whine a bit, trying to look away from his narrowed and intense eyes.
“Of course I’m being serious, you’re being flirty with everyone here, how do you think that makes me feel?”
A deep sigh is released from you and it’s the most frustrated he’s ever seen you. “You know they think I’m your wife…”
“Is that so wrong? You know what you mean to me. You know how important you are.” He cups your face and makes you look at him.
“When am I gonna be your wife?” Your eyes bore into his. You had only been dating a year and some months but you already saw a future with him and you wanted nothing more than to be with him forever.
His eyes softened but the elevator doors opened up before he could answer and you slipped out of his grasp. “You know how complicated that is. But I promised you remember? I have always kept my promises with you, little lady.”
He had always kept them. He took care of you, moved you into his place, even turned his office into your own personal walk in closet. He gave you things that you could only dream of.
But that wasn’t all. He gave you much support in anything, helping you with any assignments even when he had work bright and early. He was always there, he was a big comfort to you and it was easy to fall in love with him.
You almost wanted to kill his bitch wife. When you met him he was nothing but depression in human form. It’s only now that his eyes aren’t so clouded and that his smiles are real.
You inhaled deeply and shook off all your bad mood. “You’re right. You’re mines as I am yours, that’s all that matters.”
He did a small grin before he took you into his arms and hugged you tightly like he hadn’t seen you all day. “You’re too good for me you know that?”
It was something he almost always told you. But really it was the opposite. He made your world so much brighter than it had ever been. You truly felt at peace with him and didn’t have to worry about anything at all.
You wanted to him.
“I wanna suck your dick.”
His expression fell almost too quickly. “No, baby.” He chuckled. “But we can make love for the rest of the day and then maybe my coworkers will finally realize that I’m being nice enough to let them meet you but even nicer to hear those pretty little moans of yours all night.”
You did a shy small but rolled your eyes. He never let you give him a blowjob and with a dick like his it was criminal. Your mouth was watering just thinking about having his cum in your mouth but it probably would never happen.
It was the one thing you hated about him. He never came in your mouth, on your face or really anywhere. He didn’t want to defile you. He liked how pure you looked. Even though he seen you in your absolute filthiest.
“Please, daddy.” You touched him through his pants and he twitched. You didn’t call him daddy often but whenever you did, it was even harder for him to say no to you. “I just wanna a taste of your cum on my tongue.”
Maybe this was how you ended up with the bruised knees from being on the floor as you wrapped your sweet lips on him.
His cock was very pretty. A bit dark with a slight pink tip, very thick and long. His hair trimmed and clean, you were throbbing just from looking. You placed small kisses to his head before you did small licks all over him. With a moan you took him deep in your mouth.
His toes curled and he did his best not to grab your hair. There was some much slurping coming from your very wet mouth that he couldn’t bear himself to look at you. But when he finally decided to look, he couldn’t look away.
“You look so good on your knees.” His voice was completely wrecked and his eyes were burning inside of yours. His eyes narrowed when your hands squeezed at his balls before taking more of his hard weeping cock into your mouth.
He could feel your tongue tracing every vein and it was getting harder to stay quiet. Hollowing your cheeks, you swallowed around him, feeling hot all over your body.
Swirling your eager tongue over his slit, “Just… just like that, you’re doing so good.” He was whimpering but still managed to give you enough praises to last a lifetime.
He jumped when you touched his hand and put it in your hair. “I-I can’t…” He could barely contain himself now. He didn’t want to hurt you.
You sucked harder, bobbing your head before he finally took over. He was harsh. Very rough. Between his hips thrusting into your mouth, his tight grip on your hair forced you to stay in place.
He was using you and you couldn’t help but to enjoy it. Saliva dropped from your mouth and down your chin but you didn’t mind. You took him out of your mouth for a second.
“I want to be covered in you Ken, please? Cum all over me.” You knew he was close, could feel him throbbing and pulsing in your mouth. He muttered a small fuck when he heard you say that. He couldn’t believe just how nasty you were, wanting him to come all over you.
But he did want to see it. He wanted to see that you belonged to him. To see himself all over you. He stood up, standing over you and with his big hands he rubbed himself in front of your face.
It was erotic, the way he stared at you with such dark lust. Moving his hand up and down, slick coating his hand and wet noises all over the room. He swallowed before he let out a long and loud groan and finally came.
White warmth painted itself all over your tongue and some over your face. You swallowed, letting every bit of him flow down your throat.
“Did I do good, Kento?” His cock was still hard as he stared at you, his face reddened. He didn’t want to let you know just how much he enjoyed that.
“I’m going to make you my wife as soon as fucking possible.”
You smiled, cum still stained on your face. But you couldn’t have been any cuter.
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk#nanami kento x reader#nanami drabbles#jjk nanami#nanami x fem!reader#nanami x reader smut#kento nanami x you#kento nanami x reader#nanami x reader#nanami x y/n#nanami x you#nanami kento x y/n#nanami kento x you#nanami kento smut#kento nanami smut#nanami kento#kento nanami#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen nanami#jjk x fem!reader#jjk x female reader#jjk x reader smut
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i saw your prompt list and was hoping for number 6 with Aegon <3
‘’Don’t cry. I hate it when you cry.’’
Request: Aegon married Rhaenyra's daughter. When the king dies, Alicent lock her in the dungeons so she won't go to her mother and ruin the coronation. Aegon ask where his wife is and get you out himself. Tells the guard that his wife is not to be made prisoner
—
You always knew Alicent had madness running through her blood, but you never thought she would have you taken to the dungeons and imprisoned.
After dressing in your day dress, you were walking down the corridors, looking for Halaena when you heard voices coming from the small council chamber talking about sending men to Dragonstone to kill your mother and Daemon. Before you could get to your bed chamber and write her a message to send by crow, one of the guards saw you and brought you to the dungeons.
You tried to scream for help, but the sounds were killed by the stone walls. So you sank to the floor and curled on yourself, praying to the gods that someone would come get you out. Someone must have noticed your absence.
At his return from the dragonpit, Aegon walked into your chambers and called to you. He assumed you were with his sister, so he went to Halaena’s chambers, but she told him she had not seen you. On his way back from his sister’s chambers, Aegon heard the servants whispering about ‘the blacks’ daughter’ and stopped them.
With fury in his eyes, the prince stormed down to the dungeons. He didn’t have his sword on him — only Aemond wore it on the daily —, but he had his dagger. Whoever would try to oppose freeing you will end their day bleeding out. Aegon was not afraid of a fight.
His footsteps echoed off the stone walls and the torches flickered as he passed. As he reached the entrance to the dungeons, Aegon clenched his fists, the muscles in his jaw tight with determination. Without surprise, two guards were stationed at the entrance. They moved to block the way when the prince approached.
‘’We cannot let you go past, my prince. Orders of the Queen,’’ one of them said.
‘’The King’s dead, which no longer makes her Queen. And as the rightful heir to the throne, it is my command you obey.’’ Aegon tried to go past them, but the other guard pulled out his sword. ‘’I could have you removed from the kingsguard for pointing your sword at your future King.’’ His jaw clenched, his grip tightening on the hilt of his dagger as he stared the defiant guards.
The threat hung heavy in the air, a silent warning of the consequences should they continue to defy him. After a tense moment, the guard who had brandished his sword reluctantly stepped aside.
‘’My wife is not to be made a prisoner,’’ Aegon declared, his voice ringing with authority, holding his dagger at the guard’s throat.
The guard gulped. ‘’Yes, my Prince.’’
Aegon walked past them, wondering how his own mother could do this. A part of him was not surprised, though. Her determination often goes too far.
Finally, he reached the row of cells. All were empty, except one. His heart was pounding in his chest as he saw you sitting with your knees pulled to your chest on the cold stone floor. He said your name and you looked up, tears welling up in your eyes as you stood and reached out to him. You knew he would come for you.
‘’Aegon!’’ Your voice held relief.
He grabbed your hand through the bars, cold from being down here, holding it. ‘’Don’t cry. I hate it when you cry.’’ Aegon reached out to caress your tear-streaked face, his touch a tender reassurance in the midst of chaos.
Using the keys he stole from the guards, Aegon unlocked the door, a harsh creaking sound echoing in the silence of the dungeon when it opened. Without hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if afraid to let you go.
‘’Are you alright?’’ he asked, stepping back to look at you.
You nodded. You were cold, and very thirsty, but not hurt. ‘’I heard your mother and her father speaking to the Lord Commander. They sent men to murder my mother,’’ you said, a tear slipping down your face. ‘’I was sent here so I wouldn’t write to her and risk ruining your coronation. I need to get to the dragonpit. I have to go to Dragonstone and save my mother.’’
—
House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes@thirsty4nonlivingmen@naty-1001@katiepie67@moshpot24x@hc-geralt-23@lovelynerdytraveler@saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10@tabloidteen@timetoten@deekaag@wondxrgurl@aerangi@strmborns@astridyoo15@daemonslittlebitch@queenbeestuffs@severewobblerlightdragon@agentstarkid@msliz@vane1999-blog@fairyfolkloresposts@todaywasafairytale07@otomaniac@zgzgzh@thebeardedmoon@golden-library@kikyrizuki@hnslchw@camy85@winxschester @armstrongscommentsection
All and more taglist: @kenqki @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity Anouk nani-2305 @books0fever
#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon ii targaryen#aegon targaryen imagine#hotd aegon#house of the dragon#hotd#hotd imagine#idk if i like this one
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No exceptions?
Summary: Regina was mean to everyone, no exceptions. Yet when she was around you, it was a completely different story…
Pairing: Regina x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Just Regina being her mean self! But mostly fluff!
Words: 1.6k
Requested!
A/N: I really loved writing this one-shot, I’m a sucker for seeing Regina’s soft side for the reader and the reader only. I’m hoping to make a masterlist soon so you guys can see who I’ll write for. I’d love to write for any mean girls ships and I have a Leighton Murray fic in mind too which I’m dying to write. Requests are open!
Regina George had made fun of nearly everyone at school. No one was immune to her relentless teasing, that’s just the way it was at North Shore - so why was it that she had never seemed to target you before? You didn’t seem to mind it at all. In a way, it made you feel special.
The first incident of this type of treatment started when you had been walking rather quickly down a hallway to your next class. You had gotten so carried away studying in the library, that you hadn’t heard the bell ring. This led to you rushing to get to math class, not paying much attention to your surroundings. In the next step, you had felt yourself crash into someone in front of you. Judging from the way surrounding voices became hushed and the way you felt as though the halls had eyes all of a sudden, you could have guessed who it was without even looking at them. It was Regina George. In that moment, as you realised the identity of the girl who towered over you, you had braced yourself for an onslaught of insults. Yet they never came. Instead, upon meeting her gaze, you had seen her eyes soften, followed by her giving you an almost apologetic smile. But, before you could utter your own apology to her, she had already disappeared into the sea of students.
You had imagined that moment to have been a one-time thing. Maybe she was in a really good mood that day - anything to brush off her strange behaviour. But then came the second incident, where you had been heading into the cafeteria to grab some lunch and sit with your usual group of friends. As you had entered the cafeteria, you could already hear Regina’s voice loud enough, making her usual scathing comments about people as they walked past her table. Talking about their appearance, their clothes, or their hair - how trashy they looked. Once again, as you made your way past the table where the plastics were seated, you had mentally prepared yourself for whatever nasty comment would inevitably leave Regina’s mouth. Yet, when she had spotted your nervous gaze on her, all she did in return was smirk. You could’ve sworn she had given a subtle wink at you too, but with your racing thoughts, it was hard not to focus on simply making it past her as quickly as possible.
It was twice now, that you had escaped Regina’s infamous wrath. Which had left you wondering the reasons why - not that you were complaining.
It was actually nice not having to worry about being the target of Regina’s verbal attacks. So, within the next few days, you had grown the confidence to gift her warm smiles whenever you would catch her eye on you.
Then came the following week in the class that both you and Regina happened to share. As usual, you walked in and took a seat right in the corner, tucked away from everyone, ready to daydream your way through the hour. You had spotted Regina surrounded by Gretchen and Karen, chatting and giggling, while the teacher droned on about whatever chapter the class would be asked to read for next week’s quiz. You were finding it a little hard to focus on your own thoughts, as you kept feeling Regina’s gaze on you every so often. She was making it incredibly subtle – but not subtle enough.
What broke you out of your daydream was when the teacher seemed to have had enough of the chatter from the plastics, as she had suddenly ordered Regina and Gretchen to switch seats with other students. The worst part about this wasn’t that your daydreaming was interrupted, but that the student Regina was made to switch seats with, happened to be the student sitting next to you. You watched as she had rolled her eyes in the process of making her way over to the space next to you. She feigned indifference, as though sitting next to you wasn’t a big deal.
She had been waiting for a chance all week to finally get closer to you.
You can feel Regina’s presence next to you as you steal a glance at her before attempting to keep your focus towards the front. You seemed to be succeeding for a short while until, in your peripheral vision, you notice Regina drop her pencil. It rolls towards your desk. You have no time to wonder if it’s intentional or not before you feel her lean towards you, brushing her arm against yours as she reaches to pick it back up. This slight touch causes a flutter in your stomach, which you tried to hide by remaining stoic. Though as she rose back up, instead of returning back to her own space, she leaned in close, her lips next to your ear.
“What’re you doing after school, pretty girl?”
Her voice, low and confident, sent a small shiver down your spine. As she moved backwards you felt her eyes boring into you, in an intense yet nervous manner. Caught slightly off guard, you hesitated, wondering how you should respond…
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This first interaction accelerated the relationship between you and Regina. You began to grow very close and she was making it much more obvious to people at school that you were hers. You would often go over to her house, sometimes accompanied by Gretchen and Karen, sometimes alone. Nothing romantic had happened between the two of you, yet some strange tension always lingered whenever you were around each other. You hadn’t bothered to question it; you were simply enjoying being placed on a pedestal in Regina’s eyes. Though, some of her passing comments would trigger that same flutter in your stomach as the first time she had spoken to you.
In the same class, a few weeks later, you had walked in to take your usual seat. You then watched as Regina struts in and makes her way towards the student who had decided to sit next to you. In the next moment, you saw them scamper away as Regina had ordered them to move.
“It’s nice to see that pretty little face of yours light up whenever I come around”
She whispered in sultry tone, as she settled into her seat. Until she had spoken those words, you hadn’t noticed the shy smile you had been sporting in response to her making the effort just to sit next to you. The remainder of the hour passed by uneventful.
The bell, which signified the lunch period, finally rang. This meant the majority of the class had packed up and left within a minute or so, leaving you completely alone with Regina. The tension that was always present between the two of you, seemed to fill the room once again. Once you had packed your things, you got out of your seat, ready to follow the rest of your classmates to the cafeteria – yet your plans were interrupted after you sensed Regina leave her seat behind you. You felt a hand catch yours which caused you to spin around to see why she was holding you back.
“Regina, I’m so hungry I’m about to ravage the next edible thing I see. What’s up?” You questioned her, with a sense of urgency knowing you were losing your chance to be first in the lunch line.
“Quit whining pretty girl, I just wanted you alone. I haven’t stopped thinking about you allll day.” The tone of her voice practically made you melt in front of her. It was hard to resist her after the treatment she had given you these past few weeks. From the touch of her hand to her soft voice, you had almost forgotten why you were in such a rush to leave the room. Though, now you were alone, you did have one question that had been playing on your mind from the day she started treating you differently. Until this moment you hadn’t realised how much the shared tension had been getting to you.
“Hmm All day?” You fell silent for a moment, hesitating, before continuing “and how do I know this isn’t all a joke, huh? Out of all the people in this school G, why me? What makes me so different from the others?” You spoke in a curious tone, though remaining flirty. Judging from her break in eye contact, she hadn’t expected you to question her intentions here, of all places. After a moment, she thought of an idea on how to reassure you, whilst still maintaining the tone of the exchange. She stood tall in front of you, pulling you toward her, gripping either side of your waist now. She looked down at you slightly, moving from your eyes to your lips, then back your eyes again. With the corners of her mouth raised, she replied in a low voice,
“You know what I think of most people in this school? I don't. The only person I ever think about is you. I want to show you exactly what sets you apart from the rest…” Without allowing you time to respond, she leaned her face down, attempting to meet your lips with her own…
“GUYS HURRY UP, IT’S FRIDAY WHICH MEANS THEY’RE DOING CHEESY FRIES.”
Karen’s voice echoed across the room, causing the two of you to jump apart, startled by the sudden interruption. Being lost in the shared moment, neither of you had heard her come rushing back into the classroom to find you. You felt your face grow red hot and saw Regina clearly sharing the same level of embarrassment. After exchanging an awkward glance, Regina gripped your hand once more and led you towards the door, a mix of excitement and frustration left hanging between you both.
#regina george#regina george x reader#renee rapp#mean girls 2024#fanfic#regina x reader#mean girls musical#fluff
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Hi! I'm just curious how aventurine would react when he caught his partner or crush looking at him and when he asked why, their reply would be that they like his eyes?
Aventurine has noticed that you have been staring at him for a while and had it been anyone one else he wouldn’t question it much, assuming that they knew him and his face due to his ties with the IPC; however since it was you who was looking at him, Aventurine found himself wordlessly adjusting his clothes and the watch on his wrist as though his life depended on it.
He wondered what about him could be so fascinating for you to be staring at him as though he hung the moon, the stars and the constellations and their well known tales of triumph and tragedy.
To Aventurine there wasn’t much about him to admire in the same way you did now and he secretly wished you didn’t look at him the way you did because it made him think that -by some miracle- he had a chance with you.
He was a loser, a hopeless loser, a pathetic liar, a shallow man born without a heart to spare the smallest of sympathies to another person going through turmoil. He didn’t deserve the soft admiration of your eyes on him, nor the way your lips would form a smile directed his way, at least that’s what he thought.
So one day when he caught you looking at him again, he decided to act on his curiosity and ask in hopes that some questions he had lingering within his head would finally be answered.
Why did you look at him as though he gave life meaning? Like he was the only thing in the known universe and why did you always smile at him when he couldn’t even bring himself smile at his own reflection in the mornings?
‘Don’t think I haven’t noticed you staring at me recently,’ he begins, a cheshire grin spread across his lips as he closes in on you. ‘So I’ve come to ask what about me seems to have you captivated these days?’ Aventurine awaits for you to tell him that you weren’t actually looking at him but more or less what he was standing in front of or-
‘Your eyes.’ You responded almost immediately and without shame, cutting the blonde from his overthinking as he looked at you with wide eyes, the smile slipping from his face.
‘Come again.’ He says.
‘Your eyes,’ you repeated, ‘I really like your eyes, they’re so pretty and so unique to you.’ You finished, not once ever looking away from his eyes as they stared back at you with an array of conflicting emotions that clashed before your very eyes.
‘My…eyes…’ aventurine trailed off as though this was all new to him. ‘You like my eyes?’ He questions as he looked at you for answers.
You look at him with concern, not having seen this side of him before. ‘Yeah I thought I already said that…why is that a bad thing to admit?’ You asked him this time as you both sat in somewhat awkward silence.
‘No, it’s not.’ Aventurine chuckles after a while, genuinely smiling to himself. ‘It’s just that I’ve heard that being said so many times before but when you say it, I truly believe that you find my eyes beautiful.’
‘Of course your eyes are beautiful.’ You said as you placed a reassuring hand on his and squeezed reassuringly. ‘I wouldn’t have said anything if I didn’t find them to be remarkable, one of a kind and breathtaking simultaneously.’ You tell him all the while looking into his eyes, yes they were dull but that didn’t stop you from loosing your breath every time they looked directly at you. No words could express the feeling you get when looking into his eyes, and it saddens you greatly because you wanted nothing more then the tell Aventurine just how you felt about his eyes and about him in general.
Aventurine didn’t know what to say to all that, he really didn’t, his brain had gone blank, he was suddenly without a voice and his face was flustered to the high heavens from your words alone. How was it that you could be this sweet and be so casual about it too, maybe this was something he wouldn’t understand until far later in life, where he was older and far wiser then he is now.
So all he does is squeeze your hand back in kind and smiles softly as he says. ‘Thank you, I find your eyes pretty remarkable too.’
#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#hsr imagines#hsr imagine#hsr aventurine x reader#honkai star rail#honkai star rail imagines#Honkai star rail imagine#aventurine x reader#aventurine imagine#aventurine imagines#honkai star rail x you#hsr x you#hsr aventurine imagine#hsr aventurine imagines
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On the eve of planned nationwide demonstrations, I want to offer an overview of the ways the protests in France are being handled by the government so far (and if what you’ve heard is that this is over a 2 year increase in retirement age, please do take a minute to read this post to get a better idea of the context)
1. In Paris on March 21, a CRS (cop) threw a tear gas grenade in the air towards protesters (they’re supposed to throw them near the ground); the grenade landed and exploded on a protester’s head. (x)
2. Massive use of tear gas at every protest, on this vid from March 17 you can see the Place de la Concorde (largest public square in Paris) drowned in tear gas. (x)
3. In Paris on March 20, video of a CRS with a baton hitting protesters who are cowering against a wall (x)
4. CRS grabbing demonstrators in (illegal) chokeholds and dragging them by the neck (x)
5. In Strasbourg on March 21, police trapped about a hundred protesters in a narrow alleyway and tear gassed them from both ends of the alley so they couldn’t escape; an asthmatic person lost consciousness; people who lived there opened their doors and let the protesters enter their houses to get to safety. (x)
6. In Paris on March 20, a CRS shot a protester with an LBD riot gun (rubber bullets) and shouted at him “Pick up your balls now, fucker” (x) (an allusion to the several instances in recent years of protesters having testicle injuries from LBD guns - and non-protesters too, in 2015 a Muslim teenage boy lost a testicle after being shot by a cop with rubber bullets when he was shooting firecrackers in a park on July 14th / Bastille day). A few seconds later in the video another CRS tells the one who said that “careful there’s a camera”
7. In Paris on March 21, a group of 4 or 5 CRS who were dispersing demonstrators, threw a homeless man to the ground who had been shouting at them (hard to hear what he said, the first sentence is “How can you do this job?”), kicking him in the head while he was down and mocking him when he couldn’t get up, calling him a ‘fatso’ and ‘sack of shit’ (the woman you can hear at the end of the video is yelling at the CRS to help the guy get up and telling them “do you lack humanity to this point?”) (x)
8. That same day Macron gave a speech on TV in which he said “the crowd [= the protesters] has no legitimacy against the people, who express themselves through their elected representatives” even though he passed his reform without a vote from the elected representatives—and considering polls show the vast majority (>70%) of the country is against the reform, the “people” and the “crowd” are one and the same. Today (March 22) he gave another TV speech in which he compared what’s happening in France right now to the January 6 US capitol attack.
9. During today’s speech Macron also said “minimum-wage workers have never seen such an increase in purchasing power” which is a mad thing to say in the middle of a cost of living crisis, and he used the term ‘smicard’ in this sentence— the minimum wage in France is called the SMIC and smicard is a derogatory word for minimum-wage workers. He decried the “extreme, unregulated violence” of protesters but had nothing to say about the unregulated violence of his police forces, and instead stoked the fire with contemptuous language that angers people the day before a planned mass protest.
10. Hundreds of protesters (and even people who weren’t protesting but just nearby) have been arrested and taken into custody in “preventative arrests”; the vast majority were then released due to “absence of an offence.” Here’s a thread by a woman who was arrested in Paris along with 11 other women (one was a 17 year-old girl) for taking part in a peaceful protest. They spent 20 hours all in one cell, were only allowed to go to the toilet if they left the door open, were frisked and had their fingerprints and DNA samples taken. Also, in Nantes on March 14, four young women age 18-20 reported having been sexually assaulted by police during body searches while participating in a student protest.
And a thread by a 19-year-old Black student who spent 48 hours in custody last week along with 4 other people who were arrested in Paris as they were walking down the street. Lots of racist shit in this thread. He had already spent 14 hours in custody after a protest a couple of days before, and ended up being charged for refusing to have his DNA samples taken.
This article in Le Monde from yesterday (it’s in French and unfortunately paywalled) talks about people who took part in last week’s protests having been handcuffed and searched in their underwear then released free of charges the next day; a lawyer comments how this is clearly meant to discourage people from demonstrating. The article also mentions two 15 year old Austrian boys who were on a class trip to Paris and were rounded up with a group of demonstrators, so the Austrian embassy had to intervene. (Journalist mentions sarcastically “We don’t know if these high schoolers’ DNA samples were taken.”)
11. There are videos from various protests of journalists wearing the press armband being threatened, hit, or shoved to the ground by police. In Montpellier yesterday, a journalist took this photo as a CRS was pointing his rubber bullet gun at his head and another was running at him with his baton telling him “I don’t give a fuck about your press card” —the photographer managed to run away. (x)
This is all from the past ten days (and mostly from the past two days) and far from an exhaustive list, there's so much outrageous stuff happening (like the Minister of the Interior lying and saying participating in an undeclared demonstration is illegal, when it’s not) but it gives a good idea of what French democracy looks like under Macron. The above photo says it all really. And thank you to all the people who continue taking part in the protests and strikes.
#frpol#police violence#not sure what to tag this as#i know it's very far from the usual theme of this blog but people should know what a shitshow this country is rn#all the photos are from the tweets that i've linked
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Sirene asteroid (1009) observations
Sagittarius Sirene people appeal to others when they're fulfilling their purpose or having a clear direction in their lives. For example, my cousin has this placement, and she's able to appeal to others when she's so sure about being a dancer, believing that she was made for that, following the direction set by her heart/intuition without questioning it.
I have this placement too, and I think people come to me a lot in search for answers, to understand themselves better since Sagittarius is all about expanding ourselves.
Sirene in the 5th house is about mesmerizing people when you're in the spotlight, being confident and letting yourself shine. Also when performing, so this is a good placement for celebrities. My cousin has this, and she grabs everyone's attention when dancing, plus her personality (5H) is very charismatic.
I also have Sirene in the 5th House, and I'm not so comfortable in the spotlight which to me comes from the Capricorn degree (10°, 22°). This brings delays and challenges when it comes to you expressing or getting used to this alluring energy. You have lessons to learn before you're able to own this energy.
A Leo degree shows that you're confident to use this energy, you were born to be seen and to shine under the spotlight! Guess who has this. Yes, my cousin 💃🏻⭐️ It's worth noting though, that she has insecurities and suffers from anxiety, but she still loves the spotlight and wants to shine.
Libra Sirene attracts people when they show a chill attitude, by wanting to make everyone feel comfortable or included, by using a soft voice and having a great sense of aesthetics. My dad, for example, uses a soft voice when he wants to be polite or liked by others, and shows a super chill attitude with my sister and I's friends. A couple of my girl friends simped for him 😷
My sister has this placement too and she's the type to try and include everyone in the conversation, plus she too softens her voice when being polite or wanting to be liked? She also has a great eye for fashion. And with her friends she appears more chill than how she really is (she's crazy, your honor - in a good way).
Jungkook from BTS has Libra Sirene and his singing voice is very soft compared to what I thought it would sound like at first.
He also has Sirene in the 9th House so he might drawn in more foreign fans than korean. This placement could indicate being alluring when you're open to learn from other cultures or expand your understanding of things. Think about ambiences like college, school, foreing countries.
Scorpio Siren could be appealing when they're intense, reserved, observant, alert. Also, when they're being toxic (controlling or uninterested) or give off that aura of bad boy. For example, one of my exes has this, and he pulled me in with little to no effort, he used to take his time replying to my messages and I waited for him, thinking about what he could be doing and wishing for his attention. 🤢
A high school friend has this placement too, and he had this air or mystery when he actually was doing nothing? He has Scorpio Sun conjunct Sirene, and he wasn't easy to get close to at first. It's like he gave off an air of "I'm on my own, don't bother me", and some girls pinned after him.
Virgo Sirene people are alluring when they keep a humble attitude, lending their attention to you and recognizing they can learn something from anyone. My grandma and two friends (a guy and a girl) sometimes would ask me for advice, to explain something to them or to give them my opinion about something, and as I reply they'd look at me with the utmost attention, not wanting to miss any detail. They look at you recognizing the value of your words and that's so wholesome, it makes you feel heard and appreciated.
Sirene in the 1st House might give a great first impression considering it's the house of beginnings. They might be the person people notice or get curious about first in a group, and nobody knows why; it's unconscious. They also might atract people when they take initiative, which movilizes or motivates others. They seem like they would do good in a leadership position, people would be drawn to listening to them (especially when they're in the energy of the sign their Sirene asteroid falls under).
For example, a Virgo Sirene in the 1st House person might drawn people in by taking iniciative and assuming the role of a leader in a humble way, paying attention to everyone's input and striving to reach their ideal.
#astrology#astro placements#astro community#astro posts#astrology observations#aesthetic#birth chart#natal chart#astro chart#sirene asteroid#sirene#anime
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