#Look I can just imagine how awful the tags are now for people who like the og greek myths

[ssprayberrythings]

our little secret | CL16

charles x female!reader / smau fic 

this was a request so thank you anon for providing the idea, i changed some of the detailing ever slightly to fit it more into the social media format but overall i followed the request so i hope i did it justice! 

as a bit of a background: you and charles have been together for a few years now, but nobody knows because they’ve kept their relationship secret from the f1 community and private from anyone who follows you. everything is going great until photos of you and charles on vacation get leaked. normally you’d deny it or ignore it but it was very obviously charles in the pictures which cause fans to go crazy, wanting to know everything ultimately resulting in you and charles deciding to go public and hoping for the best. oh and the request included having other drivers on the grid having gone through recent breakups which was another reason charles liked that your relationship was private. 

warnings: none, just pure fluff and charles being a simp for his girlfriend !! 

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yourusername posted on their instagram   

yourbestfriend, yoursister, user23 & others liked 

life recently ⭐️🫶🌸

view all comments 

user1: y/n i still cant believe we haven’t figured out who your partner is, its been atleast a couple years 

user2: at this point, i don’t even care who it is, as long as she’s happy 

yoursister: awe the flowers, he’s the sweetest 

╰ yourusername: i know ! 

user22: one day we’ll find out…i hope 

╰ user17: we can only hope 

yourbestfriend: i love that youre happy but i don’t enjoy third wheeling, does he have any single friends he can atleast bring along 🥲

╰ yourusername: sorry..pretty sure all his close friends are in relationships 🫣

charles_leclerc posted on their instagram 

f1fan, pierregasly, landonorris, fanofleclerc & others liked 

who do i give these flowers too 

view all comments 

fanofleclerc: YOU CAN GIVE THEM TO ME 

f1fan: ILL TAKE THEM OFF YOUR HANDS CHARLES 

user30: how is this man single ???? he’s so boyfriendcoded 

landonorris: i’d prefer literally anything else but i guess you can give them to me 

╰ charles_leclerc: ill pass 

f1: we’ll take them for you charles, im sure someone in the paddock would like them 

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yourusername posted on their story  

caption: he loves me i swear..😉

*replies disabled*

charles_leclerc posted on their instagram 

pierregasly, landonorris, f1, f1fan, charlesleclercfan_ & others liked 

enjoying the sun whenever i can 

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fanofcharles: hes so beautiful wow 

charlesleclercfan_: imagine running into charles leclerc while he’s shirtless? id pass away

pierregasly: photo creds would be nice..

╰ charles_leclerc: you didn’t take the photo ? 

╰ pierregasly: yes but i was behind the camera offering support, its basically the same thing 

f1fan: pierre and charles’ friendship is top tier

╰ liked by f1

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yourusername posted on their instagram   

yoursister, yourbestfriend, user20 & others liked 

me and everyone’s favourite man hit the town 🍸

view all comments 

yourbestfriend: its giving old money, i love it 

╰ liked by yourusername 

user20: im sure whoever he is, is a gorgeous man 

user12: i may not know who he is but i aspire for these vibes 

yoursister: the hand placement is everything 

╰ liked by yourusername & yourbestfriend 

user44: whoever he is, he was raised right, that hand placement says everything and him holding y/n’s heels, god has favourites 

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charles_leclerc posted on instagram 

charlesleclercfan_, f1, f1fan, landonorris & others liked 

hikes at sunset > 

view all comments 

charlesleclercfan_: omg charles 

charlesleclercfan_: i think my heart just stopped 

f1fan: he knows what he’s doing, he has to 

user33: brb finding the strength cause this photo makes me weak 

user2: he looks so happy 

yourusername posted on their instagram   

yourbestfriend, user22, user14, user7 & others liked 

my two favourite people 🫶

tagged: @yourbestfriend 

view all comments 

user2: mystery man once again

user14: the way they go on runs together 

yourbestfriend: the only time i’ll gladly be a third wheel..i love a good walk/run at sunset 

╰ yourusername: i know how much you love your sunset runs 

user12: couples that run together, stay together 

╰ liked by yourusername 

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yourusername posted on their story  

caption: my whole 🌎 

*replies disabled*

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yourbestfriend posted on their story

caption: i once again find myself third wheeling..@yourusername

╰ yourusername: atleast you could walk away when you wanted..

╰ yourbestfriend: not the point..but tell charles thank you for paying for me aswell

╰ yourusername: will do 😅

charles_leclerc posted on their story

caption: enjoying some local art before racing starts again  

*replies disabled* 

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yourusername posted on their instagram  

yoursister, yourbestfriend, user3, user15 & others liked 

gonna miss watching the sunrise in the morning and the sunset in the evening with you 🥺

view all comments 

user3: wait where is he going 

user23: awe, i hope everything’s okay and they haven’t broken up

╰ user4: i think mystery man has to leave, but they’re still together 

yourbestfriend: mom and dad..fr 

╰ liked by yourusername 

user44: wherever mystery man has to go, i hope he comes back soon 

“Merci mon amour” You smiled as he situated himself next to you in bed. Having been dating now for almost 3 years, you had picked up on french terms and were able to have small conversations only speaking French with Charles 

“I posted you on instagram” you told him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders pulling you closer into him but being careful not to spill the drink in your hands 

“Oh what did you post? My phones charging” he explained as you unlocked your phone and showed him the post you made for him “You’re now being referred to as mystery man” you chuckled. 

Out of all the names people had given him throughout the years, this was definitely your favourite. Charles also chuckled when he heard the name that was given to him 

“Can I ask you something?” Charles asked after a few seconds of comfortable silence passed between the two of you 

“Of course, what’s up?” you asked after taking a small sip of your tea “Do you ever think about going public with our relationship?” He followed up 

You turned to face him fully “Of course, mon amour but we both agreed it was better this way” You reiterated the promise you made early on in your relationship 

“I know but I hate that I cant comment on your posts or even post you myself” he sighed “I want to keep you safe but I also want the whole world to know you’re mine and I’m yours” he finished. 

“I know it’s not fair” you exclaimed while running your fingers through his hair, something you did for him when he was stressed or feeling anxious “I love you all the time though regardless if you post me or not you know that. Right?” You asked him 

“Of course I do” he told you in response closing his eyes feeling relaxed “One day we’ll go public. Im making you that promise” he told you opening his eyes again 

You smiled at him “Sounds like a beautiful promise” you responded, leaning in to kiss his cheek “As much as I would love to spend the rest of the night talking with you, you have to be at the airport early tomorrow” you reminded him as you stopped playing with his hair, to turn and put your mug on the bedside table next to your side of the bed, Charles putting his own mug on the table next to his side 

“Im gonna miss you” he told you when you were both situated in bed, the only source of light coming from the evening sky outside “Not as much as I’m gonna miss you” you told him, snuggling into his side while his arm pulled you closer to him. 

Even if you had been dating for awhile, the start of the race season was always a struggle, neither of you wanting to be apart for long periods of time but it was moments like these that you held close and savoured until the next time you could be this close again. 

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yourusername posted on their story  

caption: my happy place 🎨

╰ charles_leclerc: babe i miss you already and its only been a few days 

╰ yourusername: i know but soon you’ll be busy with media events, qualifying, racing and the time will go by quicker, i promise my love 

╰ charles_leclerc: facetime tonight so i can see your beautiful face ? 

╰ yourusername: of course ❤️ 

yourusername posted on their story  

caption: now whose third wheeling..😠 @yourbestfriend 

╰ yourbestfriend: oh hush up, this was only one time compared to how many times i third wheeled you and driver boy 

╰ yourusername: okay fair point…also driver boy? wait till i tell charles that one 😂

more replies..

╰ charles_leclerc: omg since when did y/bf/n get a boyfriend? i want all the details 

╰ yourusername: i’ll tell you everything on our facetime call, its a pretty cute story of how they met 

╰ charles_leclerc: okay but not as cute as when we met? right? 

╰ yourusername: oh never, we have the ultimate cutest first meet story 🤭

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charles_leclerc posted on their instagram  

f1, carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari, landonorris & others liked 

feels good to be back 🏎️ 

tagged: @scuderiaferrari 

view all comments 

scuderiaferrari: looking forward to a great season ! 

╰ liked by charles_leclerc 

f1fan: HE LOOKS SO WELL RESTED AND HAPPY, FERRARI YOU BETTER DO CHARLES JUSTICE THIS SEASON 

f1: as if we weren’t already excited for the new season !!

╰ liked by charles_leclerc 

charlesleclercfan_: IM SO EXCITED 

charlesleclercupdates: THIS IS HIS SEASON, I CAN ALREADY FEEL IT 

Charles was standing with the other drivers, whenever the new season started they always had to do a bunch of media and although some drivers may hate how childish some of the antics were, overall it’s always a nice time getting to be in the same place as everyone and not be competing for once. 

Charles turned to George and Pierre who were in conversation with Carlos and Lando. Somehow they had gotten on the topics of relationships, Lando having told everyone that the girl he was seeing at the end of the previous season before the break, wasn’t in the picture anymore. 

“Aw mate I’m sorry” Charles told him “Its okay, we weren’t anything serious” Lando told him, seeming to be completely fine with the outcome. “Carlos how are you and your lady?” Lando asked Carlos taking the attention off of him 

“Ehh, its alright” Charles’ teammate answered the question directed at him “We barely talk and now with racing starting, I don’t see her sticking around much longer” he explained his current situation. 

To Charles it seemed as though everyone who had been relationships or atleast talking to someone, now had no one which made him a feel a bit guilty as he had been in a 2 year long relationship that none of them knew of. 

Later in the day, the guilt in Charles stomach only grew when he somehow found out 3 more drivers on the grids long term relationships had ended. He was feeling unnerved because it seemed as if there was some sort of relationship ruiner going through the paddock and he didn’t want to be the next victim. 

That night, he called you up, for a moment forgetting about the time change but remembering its only a small change. You answered after a few rings, you had your painting scrubs on indicating you had been working on a new piece of art 

“Hi mon amour” you exclaimed happy to see your boyfriend “I was just in the middle of painting, let me just take my scrubs off so I can move to the couch” You explained, Charles nodded his head acknowledging you

“Okay tell me how everything went today, I want to hear it all” you started talking again once you were situated on your couch. Charles started telling you about his day making sure to include what he learned about his fellow racers, which only caused you both to feel content keeping your relationship to yourselves. 

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yourusername posted on their instagram 

caption: disconnecting to enjoy the serenity of camping 🏕️

*replies disabled*

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f1updates posted on their instagram  

charles_leclercfan, f1fan, wagupdates & others liked 

old photos of charles leclerc with an unknown female leaked. reports say this was last year during the summer break, which brings up the questions of who is she? were they dating here? if yes, are they still dating? everyone wants to know. 

*comments disabled* 

charlesleclerc_updates posted on their instagram  

f1fan, f1updates, wagupdates & others liked 

more leaked photos of charles with this mystery woman. who is she? i know im not the only one dying to know 

view all comments

user11: OH MY 

f1fan: CHARLES MY DUDE WHAT IS THIS 

f1updates: does anyone have any idea on who she is 

╰ user15: no clue 

user3: she’s pretty from what ive seen 

user22: i need to know everything 

ferrarifan: what i would give to have been a fly on the wall when charles found out these got leaked 

Charles was resting in his drivers room. He was trying to mediate which meant he had his phone silenced. This was something you started doing with him when he would get in his head about racing and it helped him regain his focus especially during the moments when he was to hard on himself.

He had been in here for probably 30 minutes before there was a rapid knock on the door “Charles, its Carlos can I come in?” his teammate asked from the other side 

“Yeah” Charles answered. Carlos opened the door and stepped into the room “Have you been on instagram?” Carlos asked holding his phone in his hand 

“No why?” Charles was confused, what was so important on there that had Carlos wondering of his activity on the app “You should see this” Carlos told him while passing him his opened phone. 

When Charles looked down and saw what he saw, he felt his heart stop. There you and him were on his boat, last summer. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He scrolled through his tagged and it was flooded with the same pictures posted by various accounts 

“This isn’t good” he mumbled to himself as he passed Carlos his phone back so he could pick up his own phone. He went to go text you immediately when he remembered you had told him, you and your best friend were going camping for a few days which meant you wouldn’t have reception until you got back home. 

He opted to still text you something rather than nothing, that way you would see his message once you turned your phone back on and would give him a call. 

“Can I ask who she is?” Carlos asked after a few moments of silence “Shes my girlfriend. We’ve been together now for almost 3 years” Charles answered his friends question, figuring the secret was out now and there was no point in lying. 

“Oh wow, you’ve kept this going for that long and its just now coming to light. Thats impressive” Carlos told him 

“Yeah we decided early on to keep it between us” Charles sighed “We were planning on going public eventually but I guess the public beat us to it” 

Carlos just gave his teammate a sympathetic nod, there wasn’t anything he could say in the moment but he could still be there for his friend. 

A few days after this, when you were on the drive back to your place, you turned your phone back on, having a few texts from Charles. One that stood out, read ‘Babe give me a call when you can. I have to talk to you about something’ the text from Charles read. 

You weren’t sure what this could be about so you didn’t wait to dial his number once you were in the comfort of your apartment. After a few rings, Charles answered, asking you how camping was and catching up before moving on to talk about what happened while you were offline. 

That night you and Charles had a long conversation on what you both wanted to do in this situation and after some back and forth, finally came to a decision regarding your relationship that you both hoped you wouldn’t regret down the line. 

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yourusername posted on their story  

caption: he’s back ♥️

╰ yourbestfriend: happy anniversary to you two:)

charles_leclerc posted on their story  

caption: when she makes you breakfast 😍

╰ maxverstappen1: WAIT ‘SHE’ ?? 

╰ carlossainz55: AW

╰ landonorris: soft launch? 

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yourusername posted on their instagram   

yourbestfriend, charles_leclerc, landonorris, pierregasly & others liked 

i guess after 3 years, my mystery man isn’t a mystery anymore. 

happy 3 years mon amour 😘 

tagged: @charles_leclerc

comments have been limited 

charles_leclerc: i love our love 

charles_leclerc: 3 years into it, a lifetime to go 

╰ liked by yourusername 

yourbestfriend: so happy for you both 🥹

╰ liked by yourusername

pierregasly: oh wait this is actually cute 

╰ landonorris: agreed !!!!

charles_leclerc posted on their instagram    

yourusername, yourbestfriend, f1, landonorris, maxverstappen1 & others liked 

hard launching because i’ve wanted to post my girl since i met her 

joyeux anniversaire, ma chérie 💌 

tagged: @yourusername 

comments have been limited

yourusername: i love you 

yourusername: falling asleep on you > falling asleep on the bed 

╰ liked by charles_leclerc

f1: we’re happy for you:)

maxverstappen1: 3 YEARS? WOW 

maxverstappen1: happy for you dude 

carlossainz55: bring her to the races so we can all meet her !! 

╰ liked by yourusername & charles_leclerc 

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i hope you enjoyed this one. im trying to get more into including actual pieces of writing so hopefully for this one, everything made sense. as always feel free to leave any comments or you can make your own request, up to you! ♥️

#ssprayberrythings x formula one #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #charles x smau #formula one #imagines #x reader

[neteyamsilly]

i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 3

summary ;; Sullys stick together. You learn the hard way what happens when you don't. PART 2 | PART 4 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; descriptions of blood and violence incoming, beware! shout out to the ppl who predicted the stuff in this chapter LMAO so um... i couldnt tag everybody who asked when i said i would... there's apparently a limit to how many people you can tag. please forgive me 😭 im not taking any tagging requests anymore since i cant do it. so sorry about that,,,, seriously also, thank you so much for 1160 followers! i still cant fucking believe it... daddy issues solidarity 🤙🏻🤙🏻

“Hi there Corporal, you hear me? Yeah, I know you do. As much as I’m charmed by the fatherly love I could give you a big old sloppy wet kiss, we have unfinished business.”

Rain covered the rustling of clothes and the click-clacks of readjusted weapons as concentrated silence hung in the air, thick and heavy like the morning mist swallowing up the forest.

No answer. 

What face could your parents be making right now? Heartbeat in your ears, you tried to hide your shame by looking down, but a jerk on your queue set you straight. the avatar holding you digging his gun sharper in your neck.    

“What, cat got your tongue all of a sudden?” The leader’s stare found yours. “Let me give you a quick remedy.” 

They’d linked your device into another for the sound to be relayed outside and the voice detection range could be wider, in other words, they wanted your father to hear what was happening to you. Your braid was yanked as if the one pulling it wanted to snap it right off your skull, no amount of training could stop the scream torn out of you — all the show just for him. 

The line was deadly still, save for some rustling, crackling static that you could have easily mistaken for hissing.

A ghost of a smile shadowed the man’s face, he extended his rifle to tip your chin up. “Guess we’re gonna have to be louder than that to wake daddy up sweetheart.” 

“Stop!” Father yelled, the unexpected timing of it made you jump. That earned him a group chuckle from the avatars around you. “Stop.”

He talked. He didn’t leave you to fend for yourself in this. Thank Eywa!

“That was fast,” the captor behind you said. 

“Thought you’d have forgotten English by now, playing native.”

“...Quaritch?” 

Quaritch. That awful, awful man from the stories your mother killed? Spider’s father? But… But he was dead. How could sky people know how to cheat death?

“In the flesh.” 

Father’s voice wavered, you’d think he was scared if you didn’t know any better. “That’s impossible.”

“Back from the grave just for you, Jake.”

“Then I’ll just have to put you right back where you belong.”

The squad of avatars openly laughed at that, boisterous, confident, arrogant. 

This was Toruk Makto they were openly mocking. None of them would last for one minute in front of him and yet—

“Quite the teary lovers reunion we’re havin’ here, but you got busy while I was gone, huh?” He looked down at you again, yellow eyes filled with mirth. “I have this tiny bird here we plucked right out of the air. Imagine my surprise to learn she’s yours. Is this the only one, or you got yourself a litter now?”

Silence again. 

“What do you want?”

“Straight to the point as always.” The smug smile momentarily twitched into an unamused, withheld resentment. This man was nearing the end of his capacity to keep taunting. “I don’t think I’ll tell yet. You know I love to be a tease.”

Your ears rotated upwards in treacherous hope at your father's next words. “If you touch one hair on my daughter’s head I swear to god—”

“You exchanged your god for this shithole, Jake. Let’s not kid ourselves now.” Any hint of playing around was gone, now, eyes fixated on something on the ground ahead. “Your daughter will be my guest for a while. Think of it as summer vacation. Don’t worry, unlike the Na’vi, we’re very hospitable.” His thumb brushed over a button. “Until next time.”

“Fucking bastard—”

With one beep, the call was over. Quaritch was touching the band around his neck this time. “Iron Sky, Blue on Actual. We are standing by for extract, over.” 

You began to tussle against the avatar behind your back. “No! No! Let me go!” 

“Be advised. We're bringing in a high value prisoner.”

“Dad’s really gonna flay her alive this time, I can’t wait.” Lo’ak, positioned just behind the flap of the tent to not be seen from the outside as he peeked with one eyeball just in case, was watching his parents vehemently yell at each other in whispers that started out loud, but got hushed probably to not reach him and his siblings. Aggressive limb gestures were flying in the air, and at one point, his mom had tried to run off somewhere and was forcefully stopped. 

Dad was currently pacing around like a wild animal with one hand permanently stuck rubbing his face, and mom turned away from him, holding her forehead. “They’re really going at it, huh?

Kiri was not amused with his insistence to breach their privacy. “What’s so interesting about watching this kind of thing?”

“Catharsis?” He remarked in English, feeling sophisticated. “You remember Spider talking about it? Purification and emotional cleansing through relief that you’re not going through the horrible tragedy, the character on stage is.” 

“You’re normally so dumb.” Lo’ak bore his fangs at her matter-of-fact tone of voice. “Your brain only comes back on when it’s about chaos.”

“I’m petty, and what about it?” A tilt of his head to dare Kiri to ask for her point, then his attention was thwarted by an incomprehensible cry from his mother. She was pushing dad from his arms, furious like Lo’ak had never seen before as the upset man tried to hold her more. “Look at mom and dad breathing fire at each other! You think they’re discussing how to punish her?”

“Stop spying already skxawng, mom will be angry if she sees you. We’re supposed to be in bed.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to listen here!” His ears were tilting at every angle to make out any words that reached to him as nothing but a cluster of broken sounds. “Why did they have to go far?” 

“Because they wanted to be away from peeping toms like you?”

“And you’re still here too, so?” Lo’ak gave his sister a meaningful look. “I know you wanna see too.”

“Ugh!” Kiri shoved out her tongue at him, eyes dead. “And it’s not funny, by the way! They are fighting. Stop being happy about it.”

He knew they were fighting about his older sister, and that she’d get all the heat and fallout from it the moment she was back. Lo’ak’s head was full of what he could get out of it, or what to ask her for in return for helping her out in her detention. So satisfying to be the sibling who wasn’t in trouble. He should do it more, actually. “It is funny when it’s not about me.” 

“You’re sick for taking joy in another’s suffering.”

“Oh, I’m doomed, then.” Kiri took whatever fat was on his thin arm between her thumb and forefinger, and twisted. Lo’ak had to blink away the tears that rushed to his eyes, snatching his limb away from the displeased girl and pushing her away in return — he was annoyed at how much that hurt, why was that so damaging for no reason? “Yeouch! What the hell?”

“Will it kill you to practice mindfulness once in a while?” 

He raised his voice’s pitch to mock the wobbly, ear-scratching whine of yours, and exaggerated his body movements to match, too. “I hate you!”  

“Gross.” She tried to shove him, he caught her hands in the air, pushing her back and getting the spiteful annoyance of his sister as a result. “Dad was actually hurt by that.” Lo’ak’s eyes could roll down the hills by themselves the way that sounded, but Kiri, as always, was bothered so inexplicably. “I don’t like this. I have a bad feeling.”

That bad feeling was the herald of dad’s upcoming cranky ill-temper and what would follow after you inevitably had to come crawling back home with tail between your legs, Neteyam dragging you from the scruff of your neck. Lo’ak was refusing to sleep so he could enjoy the fight. 

“Me personally, am over the moon, ikran duty is so gonna be off my hands. For months.” He halted at the idea that just went off in his head, tail swishing with the hype. “I wanna tell Spider. I’ll go get him.”

“Absolutely not. You sneak off now and they’ll laser-focus all the anger on you!” Kiri was pointing a warning hand at him, but slowly lowered it, one corner of her mouth twitching up. She was holding back amusement. “Hey, you know what? Nevermind, you can go. I want you to go. I have to see this.”

“Ha-ha.” Lo’ak’s tail stuttered, losing enthusiasm. “Attempted murder, much?”

“Guys, what’s going on…”

Upon the unexpected voice that wobbled its way into their conversation, they both looked down to see Tuk gripping her weaved blanket with one hand and dragging it on the floor as she made her way to them, the other rubbing her eyes one by one so sleep dripping from them would fly away.

“See, you woke her up! What do we do now?”

“You woke her up by yelling, why is it my fault now?”

“I didn’t, you—”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did n—”

“Guys…” Tuk pulled on Kiri’s hand, and the foreign object she was clutching the whole time distracted Lo’ak. It must have dug into the older one’s skin that she carefully picked it up to inspect. The ear pieces they took off before they went to sleep. This one was Kiri’s.  “Neteyam’s calling. You didn’t hear…”

Grinning, Lo’ak snatched it up and skipped backwards and put it in his own ear, ignoring Kiri’s hushed yells to give it back now and the groans about ruining it with his stinky, cheesy earwax. He had to keep bouncing around, the girl was chasing him around the tent. “Bro! Tell her she’s sooo dead. Dad’s literally keeping guard in front of the tent—”

“Lo’ak, quit it.” Neteyam’s tremulous answer was harsh. Lo’ak’s smile wavered as he dodged Kiri’s arm and jumped over discarded cups on the floor, knocking over wooden spoons. “I need you to tell me what’s happening over there.”

“Aw, baby’s so scared to come back she needs to make a game plan first?” He laughed, slapping Kiri’s hands away. “I’ll only tell if she gives back my karambit knife.”

His older brother sighed, a bit too exasperated. 

“Yeah, I’m not letting that one go and I’m also making it your problem—”

“Lo’ak, she isn’t here.”

He stopped dead in his tracks. “What?”

“She isn’t here. I couldn’t find her.” Kiri bumped into him, unable to stop herself at the right time to hit the brakes due to how abruptly Lo’ak had stilled. They’d almost tumbled over. “Dad told me to wait until he contacts her and I’ve been waiting for minutes. Now tell me what’s going on over there.”

“Bro, you’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be serious, skxawng!” 

He turned to Kiri in disgusted discomfort, who had damn-near glued her own ear to his to hear better. “Forget months, I’ll be free for years. Dad’s not gonna let her take one step off the camp anymore.”

The girl would stomp her foot if she was a couple years younger. “What’s this about?”

And Neteyam would shake Lo’ak from the neck for ignoring him this long while he was fussing. “Tell me already you—!”

“They’re having a fight bro.” He leaned better to peep outside the tent. “Yeah.”

“She came back? Why didn’t you tell me?”

It was uncommon for Neteyam to completely disregard the previous input he’d been given. Lo’ak didn’t understand this level of anxiety. “Are you having a brain fart? Would we be having this conversation if she was here? It’s mom and dad who are fighting.”

It wasn’t that serious — on the contrary, his sister was quite simple to understand. She didn’t want to be found and had changed her place of hiding. End of story. The golden boy’s worrywart nature was keeping him from reasoning. 

“Don’t be a smartass.” Lo’ak practically felt Neteyam’s want to land a loud smack on his back. “Were they only able to reach her, then? Is that why they’re fighting?”

“You’re asking me?—”

The older boy began to grumble under his breath. “This is why I called Kiri.”

Said girl’s ears perked up over picking her name from the static-surrounded line. Lo’ak snorted. “Ouch, bro.”

Kiri shook him from the elbow. “Me? What about me?”

“Great title for your autobiography.”

Kiri raised her arms to give him a beating and Lo’ak was already bolting away from anywhere near her vicinity. The siblings didn’t even take notice of the line with Neteyam going dark as they focused on their own play-scuffle for a while. 

Until Lo’ak bumped into someone.

It wasn’t Tuk. 

Shoulders pulled into himself, he turned around torturously freaked out to find dad standing there like a ghost, his tactical vest packed to the brim and gun hanging from his back the way they wore their bows. 

The blue of his skin had faded into an ashier tone, amber eyes wide and bloodshot, the veins on the normally put together Olo’eyktan’s forehead were bulging, even a socially clueless person would pick up something was seriously wrong. He commanded cold authority of the battlefield simply by the way he stood, immediately triggering Lo’ak into soldier mode.  

He took a few steps back, chin hanging low at the lightless, unblinking stare his father pushed down on him. “Sir.”

All the sleepiness that had Tuk unresponsive and nodding off through Lo’ak and Kiri’s push-and-pull was knocked out of her at the sight, she was now unnerved and frightened. “Dad?”

The man’s intensity was somehow eased by his youngest’s reaction, but he held back from taking her in his arms like he normally would to comfort her, didn’t even care to remark on how they were supposed to be sleeping — how they’d woken their little sister up, instead focusing on Lo’ak. “I want you all to listen well. Your mother and I are heading out for a minute and your grandmother will be with you soon — Neteyam is Oscar-Mike to come back here. Stay put and don’t go anywhere, understand?” His finger pointed accusingly at him. “Don’t cause trouble. Looking at you boy, what I’m saying here is Marine proof. I’m at the end of my wits here, don’t even think about slipping a tail out of this tent.” 

The potent severity of whatever the hell was making him this agitated to the point of a voice so hoarse it was unrecognizable got the wheels in Lo’ak’s head whirring. “What’s happening, dad?”

“One child!” The thundering shout came down on him with the force of a falling mountain, making Lo’ak jump out of his skin. “I need one child of mine to listen to me without asking any questions today!” Dad’s voice broke when Tuk whined, he shut his eyes as if he was in physical pain, and flexed his jaw, shaking his head and pulling the girl in from her shoulders to soothe her. Still no direct hugging. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Lo’ak said immediately, distraught by the over-the-top reaction, hands unknowingly curling into fists by his sides. Whenever that sky people word ‘Jesus’ slipped from dad not having any control between the border of his two languages, the boy knew it was demanding gravitas. “I heard you CFB.”

“Good.” He thinned his lips. “Kiri, please.”

Lo’ak frowned at dad basically asking for her to play her brother’s keeper in Neteyam’s absence in two simple words.

She nodded. “I know dad.”

He caught a glimpse of his mother running in the distance, her father’s bow in her hand. 

Just what was happening? What had you done? 

Eywa, it had to be sky people. 

Dad saw the realization in his face. “Stay,” he emphasized, one final time before he was also gone with the wind. 

Lo’ak wouldn’t have obeyed if it wasn’t for his grandmother arriving just in time, keeping them busy with a story about the arrival of a wounded ikran with no rider.

You realized the gunshot wound puncturing your upper abdomen was there the whole time when the avatars put first aid and later slapped a rectangular sky people bandage on it that helped clotting or whatever it was called, the pain simply not being there had played a big factor in it with the body running on pure adrenaline. 

(Crouching close to you, Quaritch had bragged, “We aren’t so bad after all, huh, sweetheart? It’s called civilization. Your daddy ever taught you about that?”

Civilization, your ass. They needed you. There was nothing well-meaning about what they were doing.

And the nickname had ticked you off, sullying the good memories of father, your head slammed into his nose in full power after a hiss.

“Now my daddy taught me that!” you spat in English as other avatars had tackled you. The man claiming to be Quaritch was smiling as he wiped away the blood trickling down his nose.

What was the point in trying to patch you up if they were going to do this, then?)

You were now a part of an elaborate trap to lure your father in. Bait. The worst position to be in. This was the kind of trouble Lo’ak would get himself in. It was too late to go back now, the mess you’d gotten yourself into had made itself known. 

Think, think! How could you get out of this?

Within the unsleeping forest’s nightly noises chirping all around you, a specific call in the air halted your train of thought. 

It was mom. 

Your parents were here. But how? How did they know where you were, exactly? Dread and expectation pooled in your heart, coexisting in a nauseating mix. 

Father must be thinking that you already caused so much trouble, they couldn’t know you were also hurt, you’d never hear the end of it.

But there was no time to think, the pain you should have been feeling was ebbing its way into your body, and she was calling in the night to inform you to get ready.

All hell broke loose when the man who held you tight from your queue was shot right from the back of his head with an arrow, collapsing right on top of you. 

You couldn’t get away in time to not be crushed by his dead body and promptly got squished between the mossy soil and him, his gun was hurting you, the wound on your stomach getting in the way of you using your core to push the body off. 

How many minutes had passed with you struggling to get him off as a hurricane of bullets roared, you didn’t know (it hurt, pain was climbing towards the threshold) — mom was able to break free from the weight of a whole AMP suit, as you’d heard as a child, a Na’vi was naturally strong, but you couldn’t even crawl out. Panic was a rope tightening around your ribcage as your breathing picked up

All of a sudden, the weight was gone, and the only remaining thing from it was the big gun left from the avatar you found yourself hugging for dear life, eyes wide as saucers. Before you could see whoever had done that, you got hoisted up right back on your feet and tried to run, only to be held tighter and pulled behind the trunk of a tree.

“Hey, it’s me, it’s me!” Clumsy, overwrought hands were cupping your cheeks and — and oh, it was your father. 

You didn’t know whether to be afraid or cry from happiness.

Once he was sure you registered it was him by staring intently in your eyes with that edge of the softness you’d missed so much, his hold shifted to your neck and around your shoulders, and he gave you a look-over, checking for any wounds. Too bad what he was searching for was behind the gun you were holding. “Are you hurt?” He shook you when you were too stunned to answer. “Are you hurt at all?”

“No,” you shook your head automatically, it was weak against the explosions of bullets raining down all around you, but father had picked it up regardless, only focusing on you for the moment.

In the darkness, nobody could see the blood running down your body, that bandage had come out at one point. 

“On my mark, we’re gonna run, okay?” He nodded to you, tomahawk axe in hand coated in a dark substance, commanding your full attention. “Follow me. Ready? Ready?”

You weren’t ready at all, stomach feeling like it was being stabbed at every heartbeat, but you couldn’t tell him that. 

Instead, you ran like hell, moored by father’s taut clutch on your forearm pulling you forward to match his incredible speed dodging roots, bushes and branches. 

Things stopped moving only when you were enveloped in mom’s embrace, consciousness almost flying off from the relief that washed over you. Kisses were peppered along your hairline and forehead, her mumbling your name in gratitude blending with your panting. Tears burned bitter in your eyes, but you couldn’t cry, not when father was looking at you like that, chest rising and falling. You instantaneously remembered why you were holding that gun at the intensity he was radiating, tail escaping between your legs and letting mom hold you. 

At least this way he wasn’t able to objurgate you.  

Over her shoulder, you saw three ikrans instead of two. Heart soaring, you were skipping towards him in pure astonishment in a heartbeat. “Hey buddy!”  

His head lowered down towards you in bird-like movements. In this angle, it looked like he was giving you a razor sharp-toothed big grin. 

“He brought us here,” your mother said. The hand you were going to pet the ikran with stopped midway at her dejected tone. “You have passed Iknimaya, I take it. On your own.”

You didn’t know what to say, feeling immense guilt at having made her this disappointed over it. If this was any normal situation, any normal fight at all, you would have shot back with, ‘Well father told me to do it.’

But you were tired. 

Your pain threshold was being threatened, and you needed to get to your grandmother before any of your parents saw the situation you were in and this escalated into the worst fight you were going to get into in your entire life. 

Father’s only response was a dead cold, “C’mon, we gotta get outta here.”

He didn’t talk to you after that. Not one word. 

Squatting on an ikran’s back on a flight with an abdominal gunshot wound you were trying to hide was not an option unless you wanted to pass out midair and was looking for a free dive, so you were all but hugging the poor thing’s neck like a monkey, trusting him to follow your parents while you concentrated on mentally fighting to level out the pain. 

Nonsensical as it was to believe the gun stuck between your ikran’s neck and your stomach was acting as a tampon to lessen the bleeding, you were concerned with how dumb it must have looked to father and mom, how incompetent they must think of you that their daughter didn’t even know how to ride right. 

Got an ikran for nothing. 

Would they be less proud of you seeing how funny it appeared, nevermind that it was to contain your pain all the while not trying to faint?

But no words were exchanged about it. 

Father clamping up right after he’d made sure you weren’t hurt (yikes) had resulted in this awkward trip succumbing in total silence. They had sandwiched you between them, only necessary space for the ikrans to beat their wings freely left, so close that you could discern the scariest look on father yet, deepening the lines of age in his face while simultaneously expressing his barely contained desire to kill someone. 

A ticking time bomb. 

Forget speaking at all, but not only did he never address you until now, he didn’t even look in your direction for once. You knew because staring at him for five minutes straight for him to just acknowledge your existence had proven to be unfruitful. 

And the tears involuntarily streamed down your cheeks with how utterly worthless and alone that made you feel, trapped in this agony you couldn’t help but hide because he’d think you didn’t deserve to complain after bringing it upon yourself. You would rather bite your tongue and bear the pain than stay dreading his reaction. 

Yeah, no, he couldn’t know. 

Mom was looking over at you every one minute to make sure you were okay after her ears picked up on your sniffles, arrows of worry shot from her side sinking down your skin every single time, and you hated to make her this way. 

Your ikran kept comforting you through tsaheylu until you landed.

Father had promptly jumped down, agile and making haste away somewhere, passing you by and giving the cold shoulder. You all but slid off your own ikran, managing to make the gun stay where it should be, as you couldn’t help but weakly call out to him for one drop of consolation. “Father…”

He didn’t stop for you, quickening his steps, but his ears twitched, the tail beating the air ferociously halting and lowering before it returned to the previous motions, and those were the only indications that he’d heard it Lima Charlie.

The man just didn’t want to talk to you.    

And you had to make yourself believe it wasn’t the emotional devastation that had you falling down, but the wound sucking out all your energy now that you had gotten to safety. 

“Ma’ite?” Mom rushed to you. “Ma’ite, what’s wrong? What is it?”

“I’m okay, mom, it’s okay.” You were sitting on the floor, cross-legged. Thank goodness you still had the unbreakable willpower (and not the fear of Eywa put into you by father) to hold your shit together. “I’m okay. Just tired. My knees buckled. Weak, you know?” You swallowed, smiling. “I’m just… Just resting.”

Her gaze full of concern studied you, zeroing in on the gun you clung on for dear life against your stomach. Her hands lovingly brushed your hair, gripped your shoulders and elbows even though you were disgustingly clammy all over. It was grounding, anchoring within the ocean of pain washing over you in waves. 

“Oh, why are you sweating so much? You’re freezing.” You clutched the gun harder in a panic when she grasped it, most likely to put it away. It was the wrong reaction to have, but you weren’t exactly in the position to function healthily. 

Mom, as any other person would, got suspicious from it, her eyes flying up to your owlish ones — blanked out like a frightened animal. “You’re fine now,” she whispered, thankfully attributing it to how disturbed you must be, still not out of survival mode. “You are safe, my daughter. Mom is here.” She cupped your cheek, but every touch to your body hurt now, even when it was away from the gaping wound, still gushing blood, trickling down your hips and getting you scared that it’d be discovered once you stood up. “I’m here.” She searched your soul to know just why you were grimacing at her attempts of comforting. “I will take this now, you do not need it anymore.”

You snapped out of the gradually darkening gray haze mom’s lulling was laying you down gingerly into. “No, please don’t,” your breathing hitched. She was going to see. She couldn’t see. You had to avoid this somehow, as long as you could. Grandmother’s tent. You would make it, you had to.  “I’ll… I’ll just sit here for a while, okay? I need to just… take a small break, and then I’ll… Can you go back? I’ll follow later. Father is angry, I don’t—”

“Nonsense.” Incredulous and enraged suddenly about something you couldn’t put a finger on, and before you could stop her, she tried to haul you up with her by gripping your upper arms — colors exploded behind your eyelids, getting you you to lose consciousness for two seconds, your vision flooding back in a starry kaleidoscope. When mom’s voice reached your ears, it was in staccato exclaims your ears were ringing too much to discern. She was shaking you. 

You weren’t able to sit up straight anymore, leaning forward — mom had caught you, utterly confused and panicked at the same time. And then your head was lying on the crook of her elbow resting on her legs she’d tucked under herself. The moment you’d switched from sitting to straight up lying down was missing from your memories. 

A baby being cradled. Yes, this is exactly what it was like. Gentle arms surrounded you amidst the pulsating sea of agony. 

Your body was letting go, but your arms were vices around the gun, still holding that last line. Don’t let go. Don’t let go. They can’t know. Father will be so mad if he learns. “‘m okay… ‘st restin’…”

When your eyes cleared enough for the surroundings to be only a bit blurry, your mom was looking at the hand she’d just tried to take away the gun with, caked with your blood that had stained it, out of it and perplexed like she didn’t want to believe it. 

Her gut-wrenchingly stunned numbness sent the misery clawing its way inside into overdrive, pulling your consciousness down to the earth from the clouds it was ascending to. “Not mine,” you forced out, but it came out as begging. Everything was falling apart. The plan was so simple, why couldn’t you do anything right? “Not mine. Please. Mom, it’s okay.” 

“No…” Mumbling, she started sharply swaying back and forth, and with one brutally vigorous attack, she ripped the gun away from your arms, and hurled it away — then it was over. Your sob wasn’t due to the motion hurting you, it was all entirely for the broken wail of your mother at seeing the bloodied mess, tears spilling from her eyes as she reached down to press down at the pouring liquid. “No! No! Oh Great Mother! Why did you hide this! Oh, my daughter!” 

“No, mom, I’m fine, it’s nothing. Not my blood. Not my blood, okay?” You reached up weakly and wiped at her cheeks with trembling fingers, your heart got crushed worse than the pain could beat you down at her grief — lungs constricting. Where was all the air?  “I’ll get up. I’ll go to grandmother, don’t cry. Just resting.”

Frantically looking around, she yelled, “Jake!—” but her voice didn’t quite come out, breathy as if she’d been punched in the ribcage seconds prior.

A heartbeat’s worth of nothingness, after which you were full-on freaking out. Only one thought: Father will be angry. 

“No!” You shrieked, and blood swelled in one strong pump against mom’s fingers. She looked down at you in anguish, pupils blown wide, arm tightening around you as if you were a flailing bird. “Don��t tell him! Don’t tell father! He’ll really kill me for this—”

“No, no no no,” she shook her head, frenzied, tone cracked from beginning to end. “Do not say that. Don’t you ever say that—”

But you were struggling in her arms, wanting nothing but to crawl away into a hole, no reason registering whatsoever, only instinct. “He’ll be so angry,” you begged, pleading, pink spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth. The sound of gurgling accompanying the words you forced your whole body to form. “You can’t tell him — you can’t! He already hates me!”

The more you thrashed around and kicked your legs, the more you bled.

“Please, Great Mother!” The more mom lost her mind, hissing and howling hysterically, crazed, hugging you tighter and rocking. “Jake! Jake! Ma’Jake!” She put her temple against yours. “Not my daughter, please, Eywa…”

Why was she being like this? It wasn’t that serious! You were okay!

Delirium claimed you hot as she kept calling his name and her unbreakable hold on you kept you in a cage of a mother’s despair. In your feverish mind, a threat to your life was coming. Weakness spread like wildfire around your body and chipped away at the pain, slowly picking it apart to replace it with drowsiness. “Don’t call ‘im,” you continued to repeat, over and over again. “I’m just taking a break. Don’t call him over. He’s gonna be angry. He’ll hate me. He hates me. Please, mom.”

The sentences slurred together, shortened, wilted away pitifully, your voice died down, tongue deteriorating into only echoing, “He hates me.” A withered away, old flute. 

Your ikran was bellowing in the distance and you looked. The torches on cave walls were illuminating him and finally revealing to you his beautiful color scheme.    

And then your father was here, falling to his knees right beside you, his glistening wide eyes flying everywhere around your body — tracing all the blood, hands hovering above you as if he didn’t know where to start piecing a shattered vase back together.   

It was over.

Fully expecting the chastising you were about to receive to shake the floating mountains so bad the enemy would be able to spot you, you began to apologize — pride be damned, this battle be lost, you’d failed anyway. “Please don’t be mad,” you shuddered, meek and unsteady, tunnel vision flickering at the edges only perceiving him. “It’s my fault—I’m sorry—please don’t be angry—”

“Stop talking,” he ordered, rough and harsh, eyebrows knitted tightly, and out of breath — probably because of how hard he was trying to hold the anger back. You knew. That had to be it. “Don’t speak.”

Ah of course. This was only natural when he had refused to utter a single word at you the whole way, denying you the temporary comfort of a simple glance. 

Even the hand he pressed down so ruthlessly firm on your stomach it might as well be a boulder pinning you down was meant to be punishment, the whines your unbreathing lungs couldn’t stop turned into yowls — you hadn’t even noticed your hands were wrapped around father’s wrist in an effort to push him away, scratching him, but he only added his other hand on top of the other in return.

“Hang on, sweetheart, I got you, please hang on a little longer,” he pleaded, but you were already too far gone, Eywa was cruel to have plugged your ears to the endearment you’d been dying to hear from him for so long, making the last things you were aware father said to you the fact that he didn’t even want to hear you talking. 

And you fulfilled his wish. 

taglist: @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis@alohastitch0626 @jackiehollanderr @lucciera @qvrcll @iloveavatar @velvtcherie @ssc7514 @goldenmoonbeam @neteyamforlife @itsluludoll @jakesullys-bitch @blubrryy @sully-stick-together @arminsgfloll @alice121804 @noname2246 @justthingzsblog @eywamygoddess @m-1234 @ellabellabus07 @hellok1ttycake @dakotali @bluefire12348 @abbersreads @yellooaaa @aimsro @octavias-next-meat-bite @nikqdn @nao-cchi @spicycloudsalad @yeosxxx @heybiatchz @winxschester @elegantkidfansoul @eichenhouseproperty @kakimakiloh @dueiosy @liyahsocorro @dimplesxx @tigresslily @n8ivatar @strnqer @lillybbyy @jakesullyssluttt @r3dc4ndy @myheartfollower @gcldtom @bunnyrose01 @aceofheartzzz @ghoulbli @slasherfcker505 @ducks118 @megsthings @graykageyama @gwolf92

#dad!jake x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x reader #dad!jake sully x daughter!reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #sully family x reader #mom!neytiri x reader #neteyam x sister!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader #irma: 📝 #📖: light

[spacebarbarianweird]

Astarion x Big-Breasted!Tav

Inspired by @mglennonart art

Thanks @thechaoticdruid , @rachelle-on-the-run and and @not-so-lost-after-all for help!

Masterlist

Headcanons

So, you are a human woman.

Human women come in every form and size, and you are particularly cursed/blessed with huge breasts.

You know how human women find elven men attractive coz they are so beautiful and gentle?

Elven men love human women for their "tits" and "asses".

You know, half-elves are usually born to human mothers, after all.

Unfortunately, the same features, loved by elves, are often a reason for mockery from other humans.

Be it jealousy from other women or undercover lust from men.

You were bullied when you were young and grew up ashamed of your body trying to cover yourself from unasked attention.

Besides, people call women like you "asking for things".

As if backache and inability to sleep on your stomach aren't enough!

Or people assuming facts about you just because you look like that.

With Astarion…

It's different.

It's not "I don't care about tits".

If anything, he cares a lot about them.

But there is awe in how he looks at you.

There is adoration.

He likes pressing his face against your chest, burying his nose in your breasts.

He likes to occasionally put his hand under your shirt.

At first, you were embarrassed by this but later you got used to it.

He sews dresses for you - the ones with deep necklines.

When he first presented you one you refused to leave the house without him by your hand.

But you know he will protect you if someone can't keep their dirty thoughts to themselves.

A man who dared to grope you at the tavern is now missing three fingers.

An old pervert who called you a slut is now a one-eyed pervert.

Astarion also makes you a corset which makes fighting and travelling easier for you.

But it's also suspiciously easy to unlace.

Because if you stay in camp or in an inn, Astarion likes seeing you as you are.

With time, Astarion learns how to transform into a bat, and - and in a bat form he easily fits in your bra.

He can never get enough of it.

Me and @rachelle-on-the-run were carried away A LOT and we have some ideas for NSFW headcanons. Coz it's already very naughty. Would you like to read it?

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96

#spacebarbarian headcanon #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion romance #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion headcanon #baldurs gate 3 #astarion headcanons #astarion x tav #astarion x f!tav #tav x astarion #astarion x reader #astarion and tav #astarion x you #human tav #baldur's gate tav #baldurs gate 3 astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion baldurs gate #astarion brainrot #astarion baldurs gate 3

[yanderecandystore]

I love the yandere monster story, can I make a wish for some yandere monster boy naga who is looking for a mate to carry his eggs and live the rest of his life together forever?

I don't condone yandere shit irl, but if you bang a naga man someday I'll give you a pass and a cookie, you mad lad. Not proofread enough lmao, also sorry but I really don't know how to type s e x.

Tw/Tags: straight up NSFW/+18 scene (written by someone who struggles to imagine sex- So we don't guarantee quality) // not very descriptive genitals, if at all // the usual yandereness + breeding kink; possessive behavior; manipulation; suffocation; implied oviposition but not really cause I'm dumb // you're a literal desert mailman💀 I'm sorry // brief mentions of troubled family life/past trauma // language barrier // self-conscious reader // willing yet slightly scared reader.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Writing in the sand [Yandere!Male!Naga x AFAB!Messenger!Reader - One shot]

Being a messenger was actually a lot more dangerous than it seemed at first, how many times have you and your camel met with bandits, scammers, difficult terrain, awful weather, people who would tell you the wrong direction for shits and giggles?? MANY times, but did you ever consider quitting and going back to the tea shop of your very judgmental parents or worse- To accept the offer of personal servant to that weird queen from the faraway lands who wouldn't shut up about how much better her kingdom was?? NO!

I mean a little bit. Just a little bit. Occasionally, I mean her kingdom was really pretty, though constant snow sounds like a pain in the ass, and giving up the freedom you currently have for either a strict monarch or your family was NOT something you were planning to do, ever!

The first time you got off the borders to send messages for far away people was the day you truly felt alive for once! The desert itself was your greatest rival and yet you faced it head down after that day- Sure, you were unprepared at first and there's still plenty to learn out there but it was EXCITING!!

You fought (ran away as quickly as you could) many groups trying to get a coin out of your body, or your life! Or your camel!! King Mustard wasn't the same after the "giant scorpion with that group of thieves" incident that happened, the worst part is that it happened twice though the people were different at least. Your personal theory is that the scorpion WAS the same from before, and that it has been following you through your journeys and it probably was looking for revenge!!

You told that story to so many people that now it's hard to go someplace without repeating yourself, it's weird how even though you're never at one place for too long, most people know you! You're, humbly speaking, sort of a big deal in the great drylands- Not known for your bravery but mostly for your constant running mouth and your adapted technique in how to extract cactus juice safely from a cactus with 70% success of no cactus drunkenness! (100% Needle-safe not included).

Stopping in a town was obviously the safest place for you and your camel, but was also probably one of the most rewarding parts of your trips, of course because you always need to have plenty of resources out there in the sand but also because… Well, as much as you loved every second of exploration and travel, you were admittedly a very lonely person.

It's not something you like to tell others, as you have already experienced people doubting your capability of being a messenger if you get so "emotional" over being far away from people ("I told you so!" Yeah, thanks mum.). It was a time you could feel at least safe and… Sometimes welcomed.

But it wasn't always a lonely trip, after all, King Mustard was here! Him with his big personality was always the heart of the party! Everyday was fun with him, even if he couldn't speak to you… However, that doesn't mean you haven't found great comfort in your travels, you probably haven't noticed this yourself yet, but [y/n]...

You are a very dear person.

Every person you've helped along the way in your trips, just by coincidence finding them, and landing them a hand in the hot and harsh reality of the desert thinks of you dearly. You have friends! It's just that you don't see them very often… If at all. The desert has a funny way of getting people closer, people who struggle to survive in its environment, and yet it also drifts them away- The wind blows in every direction separating every small particle of sand, and maybe one day they'll meet again, or maybe not. Cruel was it, with its breathtaking beauty and extremely cold personality for someone so hot and merciless.

You often associate the desert with its forgotten god. You tend to talk about it as a person rather than just an environment of harsh conditions, you always remember to talk to it, hoping it would listen in a way. You were pretty much by yourself out there, but thinking that someone was listening to your travels made you feel safer, perhaps not as tormented as the blazing Sun would leave you to believe. You were being watched, and protected, you just knew it!

The proof of it came from one of the greatest encounters you ever had during your travels.

It was really hot that day, King Mustard seemed really tired and you were melting under the blazing heat- You two needed shelter and fast! And suddenly, as if the gods listened to your prayers!-(But quickly threw you two middle fingers)- An immense sandstorm was approaching!! For someone as cautious as you, you couldn't understand where the hell it came from!! It was so sudden and just- There was no indication of it!! At all!!

You got knocked out, and when you woke up- You were… Somewhere strange, like an underground oasis of sorts, hidden in the desert there was a cave of luscious greenery and drinkable water, it was magical how big the place was!! You thought you had died and went straight to Paradise!!

At least, you thought so when you saw a very large and handsome man staring back at you, smiling gently. He had tanned skin and a REALLY long, almost platinum hair! He looked so gorgeous with his green cat eyes that you almost forgot to breathe!

You asked the man if he was an angel, and he responded to you in a language you didn't understand. You were 100% certain that the man was really an angel and yet when he revealed the lower part of his body your face dropped immediately, terror slightly setting in. He was half snake, half a giant snake at that! His tail seemed endless, those dark scales were so pretty yet so terrifying! The gold markings seemed very regal and holy in nature but the endless darkness almost seemed to eat it all up! Like a demon!

You freaked out at first, but when you looked at his eyes, his gentle face- His expression of concern, those big bright eyes, you noticed he really didn't seem to have any ill intent towards you, perhaps you were misjudging him for something he was not. After breathing in and out, you calmed down, never taking your eyes from him, you felt comforted as you realized this creature was the one who saved you out there! And who saved your camel!! He was still really scared of your snake buddy, but you made sure to soothe him.

Long story short, you became friends with a human-snake guy who seemed genuinely very cool! It's a shame you didn't understand a word he said… You suspect that maybe he speaks in a very ancient language and perhaps this means he was REALLY old!! And yet, he seemed just about your age, and you got to hangout with him during your free time.

Poor thing, he seemed trapped down here (though to be fair, it is a fabulous prison to be in-) and he really wanted to catch up with times! So you made it your duty to help him understand the new world, you have no idea why he is here and how long did he live here separated from the rest of the world, but now that you knew how to get there and how to get out- You made it your mission to teach him everything you knew about the modern world.

And although the language barrier was massive, you two somehow got to learn something very special about each other- He shared with you his name, "Rakaski", and you got to teach him yours.

~"[y/n]"~ His accent was heavy, and yet you felt something flutter inside you whenever you heard him call your name. You remember him repeating your name over and over again as if he wanted to memorize how to say it.

After hearing his name, you made sure to research it, trying to find something that could lead you to know what language he was talking in- But no books nor people seemed to know how to speak it, except for one book you found, a fairytale book that was so old that it was a nightmare trying to understand the vernacular! But it didn't seem like a very "old" old kind of book, it was probably made after the language had changed, there were a lot of words that you didn't recognize.

The book never explained the name's meaning really, but it was always used as a common word- And given the context of the story you read, it seemed to mean either "falling" or "god"? Well, you're not very sure, since the book was confusing as hell, and your interpretation of the story was very mixed- Was it about a desert deity or a man that kept tripping over in the sand?! Seriously, why did it have to be so confusing!?

In the end, you still didn't understand the book and neither did you find out anything about Rakaski's name. At least you know it was older than your home kingdom, which was pretty cool.

Either way, the lack of communication never stopped you from coming down that hidden paradise to talk to your best friend every opportunity you could! King Mustard can be very squeamish whenever you guys try to get down there, he really disliked going there and you assumed it was because he was claustrophobic, which you already knew he was. So, today you'll leave him in the shade and get down by yourself, you don't want to stress the poor thing.

"M-Mustard! King Mustard Junior The Third, stop pushing me around!! You know you're a lot heavier than me! Seriously, this isn't funny!!" Ah, King Mustard, for a camel you're really just a scaredy cat! You push him away gently as you can, he keeps positioning himself in front of the hole you want to jump in.

"Hey stop!! If you don't want to come then fine, but let me get in! Please! I'll be back soon!" The massive animal was starting to get a little too agitated, and you knew better than to try to force your way.

"Mustard, seriously you're starting to scare me, you know I'll be back soon, please let me get down." You don't know if it was the deep magical connection of friendship that made him understand you and realize that he scared you, or if he suddenly felt disinterested in playing with you right now.

Taking by how the camel sassily walked away you're starting to think it was the second option- Of was he genuinely insulted by your stubbornness? Who knows.

"Sigh… You always get like this when we pass by." Though you can't really blame him, you know he still distrusts Rakaski, but come on it's been a year! And Rakaski has never hurt any of you two! Sure, he was a bit intimidating at first but he had a good heart, you just knew that.

Compared to the men back in your hometown? Rakaski was a saint, you were sure of it.

You had slid through the sandy hole and into the luscious underground with ease, you started to call for him, but before you could even yell out "Ra" you saw him not so far away, seemingly very occupied.

"Awn, guess you're decorating! Have I come at a bad time?" You walked to him and joked despite being aware he wouldn't understand you.

The way his face lit up and turned to face you was just so precious, he seemed very excited!

~"[y/n]!! [y/n]!! It's really good to see you again!! I was already worried you would never come."~ He talked just like you, committing the same mistake of talking as if the other would understand- You had no clue what he said, but as he coiled around you and his arms squeezed you oh so dearly you understood exactly what he meant.

"Yeah, yeah- Missed you too-" You never knew how to deal with anything social, period, and being flustered at someone who wasn't even human was not a first but it never got easier. But with him, at least, you feel like you don't need to pretend that you don't feel slightly flustered by his attention. Gods know you're a very easy target for large and very well built men.

After he let you go, you realized he was just building a new nest for him, so you decided to help him as well. It was already pretty much done when you got in, but you felt like he deserved a "fancy" bed so you helped him decorate with flowers and some of the trinkets you bought for him, he just loved human trinkets!

And by the gods, you knew you were currently in Spring, but these flowers?! They were just so damn pretty, it's a real shame that your traveling is mostly done in sand, occasionally though you have to go to the East to deliver important letters and gifts and you just kinda love that place! Every time you go, they're experiencing a different season, and it all changes so much, it's beautiful!!

"Oooh!! Maybe I should bring you flowers from one of the neighboring kingdoms, it'll be a way to show you the world since you can't leave…" You think out loud, and of course, he looks at you a little confused- And yet he repeats the word you said.

"Flowers?" He repeats it as if he didn't understand what you said, yet liked how you said it.

"Yes! Flowers!-" You say pointing to the flowers in his nest and surrounding you two, he quickly understands it, it seems.

~"Oh! Flowers! Oh, that's what it's called to you? Great heaven's, humans are always changing, aren't they?"~ He starts to laugh, you… Sort of don't understand the joke, but perhaps "flowers" just sounds funny to him.

He patted your head as he laughed, as if trying to congratulate you on making him laugh (I mean, getting this man to laugh was a challenge, you bet even without the language barrier).....

Although, it felt more like a "reward" sort of situation… As if he was rewarding you for… Being so entertaining, you suppose! Still, that's probably just all in your head, besides you know well when someone is being condescending to you, you're sure of it! Years inside your family's house has made you a pro in spotting bad apples from far away. I mean, you like to think you do, to be fair Rakaski was a little difficult to read, and sometimes he did things that you probably weren't sure of what they meant.

But then again, he was a very old half snake dude trapped inside a cave somewhere along the rock formations spread all over an unforgiving desert, his social life was probably a lot worse than yours, and who's to say that his antics aren't based on his own culture? Perhaps snake people like to coil around each other to show affection, even if it's really hard to breathe like this.

Things weren't so complicated between you two, however, as you guys have invented a form of simple and more direct communication through pointing to objects and scribbling on paper. You had thought about using sign language, so you learned a couple of words and tried to use with him-

"So- This means that- Hm..?"

But before you could teach him he already was talking to you through hand signs you didn't understand, he was very well adapted and you only knew a few like "hello", "you", "me" and "see you soon"- Which would be the most used one for you two.

"Huh, you always impress me, maybe you should be the one teaching me-" You bowed down, genuinely impressed with what you saw, and he seemed very content with himself as he smugly pretended to wave and throw kisses to a nonexistent audience. His ego was always a bit inflated, wasn't it?

You decided to cut your visit short and return back to King Mustard as you didn't want to leave him waiting for too long. It's funny how neither him nor Rakaski liked each other despite sharing a diva personality. As you waved your goodbye, Rakaski decided to give you one last big hug.

A hug that didn't seem to end at all. His body wrapping around you and leaving you to feel surrounded by darkness. This usually happened so it didn't come as any surprise. You tried to tickle him as that usually worked.

"Come on now, you know I'll be back soon!" You laughed as you tried to provoke him, his belly was so sensitive that you could see him contracting and trying to avoid giggling.

But he didn't let you go. Your attempt only made him restrict you further, the snake body trapping your hands with its weight.

You were well aware of Rakaski's animalistic tendencies, for example he was cold blooded and constantly held you to try to gain some height, like he is doing now.

You know that when he yawns his jaw unhinges and opens so inhumanly wide that you have to close your eyes so you won't have any more nightmares about it.

You know he is nocturnal so he is constantly feeling a little too sleepy whenever you two hangout, as you often come to see him during the day (which was something you did for safety, though you sometimes worry he is having trouble sleeping because of you-).

And you also know that snakes tend to suffocate their prey with their body before eating them whole.

While trying not to judge him as a human eating monster you still feel very, very terrified of the slight chance he might be hungry and has forgotten you're not food. The more you struggle the tighter it gets, and it doesn't help that his skin is so cold, it makes your nerves flare up as you can hear him growling with what you hope is not hunger.

"RAKASKI-!!" You yell, you couldn't help it, you were starting to feel dazed. While closing your eyes you felt his lower body shift and relax, you felt arms hugging you a lot more gently than the suffocating sensation from before. If it wasn't for his lazy eyes and the internal chuckling you can feel in his chest you would say he was actually hungry for you. He was just trying to scare you.

"Sigh, you'll be the death of me- Seriously you scared me to death!" You tried to push him off you, but he basically threw his entire body weight on you as you fell to the ground with your back on the soft yet not very ideally comfortable grass.

"Shhhh~!" He nuzzles on you while hugging your stomach. Normally he would have let you go now after petting your head or pretending to bite your neck just for funsies- But today he is very much not letting you go, at all.

Okay, you really didn't want to address the situation, you weren't planning on ever talking about it of course but- By the gods, you knew better than to assume his playful smile was just his usual silly self.

Oh, who were you kidding, you knew it from the moment you came in and saw the nest he was making, it's not like you haven't noticed his chest rising and falling as if he was struggling to breathe just by talking with you. You wanted to leave because you noticed that perhaps you took the wrong month to visit him.

It was mating season, wasn't it? Why now? Why today?! And why WERE YOU ACTUALLY CONSIDERING IT?!!!

"Okay I think I need to think about this a little more- I mean you're clearly not thinking straight right, I'm not even a snake lady, man!" You try to push him off you as you avoid eye contact, the worst part is that he was fairly attractive for someone's who's lower body was just one huge snake tail.

He wouldn't budge, he only shifted his head to look at your face, even if you were avoiding him you could feel his smirk creeping around the corner of your vision, you wouldn't be surprised if he knew what you also knew.

I mean, it wasn't a secret you liked him was it? You thought you didn't mind him noticing this but this sudden desire just feels like it's happening all too fast and you're worried it might be just a one time thing, that he is acting like this out of instinct not out of actual desire towards you. And well you never really did this before, I mean not with someone like him, at all! But you had experiences with people before.

Bad experiences. The ones that would leave someone worried for years that they're not good enough to anyone. Were you being cautious or were you just being self-conscious? Were you scared of him not liking you when this high of his diminished? Maybe you just weren't sure if this was a good idea.

"I don't know if I'm really ready for this." You confess, looking back at him- Hoping to find your answer.

And he looked back at you with a sad expression, did he understand what you said? Did he understand what you meant at least? He looked so concerned and genuinely "awake" despite his current very urgent instincts. He held your hand and kissed it for reassurance, you didn't notice you were crying until your vision was blurry and your chest was aching.

"Sorry.." You tried to wipe them yourself, you don't know why you're apologizing. Rakaski didn't seem to take it well, he was about to say something before shaking his head vigorously and wiping your tears himself. He came closer to look you in the eyes, stop staring elsewhere, you won't find comfort anywhere else but those eyes.

He decides to come off of you and give you some space despite his initial reluctance, the gentle and almost warm presence of reassurance leaving with him- And before he could give you space you decided to make the first move yourself.

You kissed him, hoping perhaps he would understand the gesture, and he did! He hugged you and kissed you back returning your neediness… Though coming in with a lot more desperation than you thought. Not seconds after forcing his tongue in despite your unisseanes.

I mean, it 's good! He isn't being horrific at it is just that you have underestimated how badly he seemed to want this. And although you're just as interested in this as he is, you're worried you may not hold to the same durability as he has.

Today was the day. Today had to be day, and he wouldn't have it any other way. To wait longer would be torture and you best believe this man was patient. He wasn't expecting you to almost reject him at first of course, oh you almost gave the immortal a heart attack!

He shouldn't have been so pushy, he knows that, but having your soft lips on his was so worth it that he couldn't help himself as he pinned you down again, ah… It's a shame the nest is so far away, this is not a very classy way to do things.

Then again, ripping off your clothes with no regards was probably not very refined either, humans needed a lot more courting than he was aware of- But it was fine! You were doing just great, you were being so good to him, he wishes he could praise you in your own language so you could understand him.

~"You're so lovely for something so fragile, thank you for accepting me- You have no idea how long I've spent being trapped here knowing damn well there's not a single other like me out there."~ He would praise you in his own tongue in frantic breaths while kissing your neck and nibbling in your ear, while his lower body made sure to lock you in place, you were a little scared, weren't you?

~"I'm genuinely sorry for having to put you in this position but I can't take it anymore- But I know you want this as well, I know you do!"~ He usually was very talkative, but there was something in his voice that sounded shaky, desperate, and his hands were too confused on where and what to grab that you noticed he seemed just as inexperienced as you were.

Well, at least you thought so before he spread your legs and started to rock back and forth in your lower region- It's not exactly that he is inexperienced, but he is very much off his mind right now- His movements aren't uncertain, they're just frantic for any release. Not that he won't tend to you as well, he just really needs this right now. But you'll understand, you always do. You always treat him so well, despite the monster he has become.

~"It'll hurt, and I'm not sure if it's only a little. I promise to make it worth it later to you."~

You were struggling to keep up with his weird and off putting rhythm- He was just so ready for this, it's been on his mind ever since he found you unconscious inside his natural prison, but he knew better than to be selfish to someone he'll have to share a nest with.

~"It'll be great don't worry, I'll make sure you'll be well taken care of. It'll be incredible, my treasure."~

You shivered when he went from humping your lower region to undressing kissing it almost as passionately as he did your mouth- He should probably move a little slower considering he changes activities way too quickly but hey it felt better than the awkward dry humping.

It wasn't bad, but it lacked a bit of finesse- Not like his careful and calculated attention to your privates right now-

"Humans need a lot more work than I remember, but does that mean we can make it last longer? Would you want that, treasure? [y/n]?" Rakaski was playing with it almost as if he never looked at something like a naked human before, but it was a lie- He was absolutely just trying to tease you with every poke and flick.

He ran his finger down slowly before reaching an opening and pulling it inside, at least one to feel you inside. It's lovely that you arch your back to the littlest of things, and although he doesn't understand your words, moans are hardly hard to misinterpret.

"Slower then? I guess I was being too unprepared, I'll be honest that it's more fun than I expected. If this is the work I have to do every time then I'll gladly accept." Human courting was fascinating to him, though now he understands why, he can't just expect you to take it all in with a little help- And helping someone never tasted so sweet.

You were feeling embarrassed by his stare as he licked you out and further tried to spread you- Trying to ease the inevitable soreness that would come but damn, did he have to look at you like that?! It made you feel a little dirty, a little too embarrassed to entertain his idea, for someone who seemed so eager to shove it in without any foreplay he was really taking his time now!

You grabbed his hair carefully, you didn't really notice what you were doing and to be honest you weren't sure how to continue with this but Rakaski looked at you in awe… His smugness was replaced with a look of pure adoration- His pupils wide and round as he expects you to guide him.

It gave you a bit more confidence knowing he trusted you to hold his head and sort of help him find the right pacing.

You don't remember for how long it went, you just remember that it ended with you on top of him, going at your own pace. He held your hips not stopping you to go as fast or as slow as you wanted but rather because he felt very uncomfortable NOT holding every centimeter of you. He needed to grab into something and your sweet flesh was exactly that.

You woke up in his nest, feeling a little disoriented, memories of what happened a little foggy, but you were sure it wasn't a dream considering the soreness in your thighs- It was hard moving.

You sighed, feeling weirdly satisfied- Well, that's not the right word, more like… Well, genuinely happy.

You tried around, and you saw Rakaski curled up into a ball, sleeping so peacefully and yet with that little mischievous smirk in his face you just knew he was dreaming about it.

You turned your body to face him, deciding to close your eyes and sleep a little more.

Until you remembered you left your camel outside.

"HOLY GODS, KING MUSTARD!!" You jumped up, trying to run as quickly as you could towards the entrance- But you couldn't even leave the nest when Rakaski wrapped his tail on you and pulled you closer.

"WAIT! It 's my camel!! I forgot I left him-"

"Stay." He said in a very half awake voice.

"You can talk…?"

"Stay." Rakaski wrapped himself around you, as he buried his face in your neck. You weren't sure if he was understanding what you said, or if he only understood the meaning of that one word.

"Rakaski, I'm just going to check on him, I'll be back soon, I promise-" You pushed his chest away. You shouldn't have done that.

Rakaski tightened his grip around your body.

"Stay. [y/n]. You're not supposed to walk so soon. Stay still, no mother should walk so early after mating…" He still sounds so sleepy, so innocent, but his half opened gaze was not… friendly.

"Rak- AH!-" Tighter, and tighter, and more tighter. He knows damn well that whenever you get to that camel you're leaving him for gods know how long, but as he stated before, soon to be mothers shouldn't walk around in the dead of night especially since he knows humans don't deal well with the coldness of the desert during this hour.

It's better to stay here and let him take care of you while you're now waiting for his kids, even if you aren't aware of it. He isn't sure how long hybrids take to be born, but he wasn't to be there for you every step of the way.

"Shhhh…. Go back to sleep, stop struggling, it is not good for you…" He kissed you goodnight as he suffocated you back to sleep.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere naga #yandere monster #choco stuff #special delivery request #yandere naga x reader #yandere male #yandere monster x reader #yandere oneshot #Jesus Christ this must have SO MANY mistakes I'm so sorry #I'll iron it out real soon tho #also THANK YOU FOR LIKING MY MONSTER STUFF I LOVE YOU JSGDGJQSGJQSFQ

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Just Friends (König x F!Reader)

How to Get Her Back 4/4 (Word count 7.3 k)

Summary: König is a horny, creepy killing machine obsessed with a shy, kind reader who has a raging knife kink.

Tags/warnings: 🔞 Eventual smut, eventual violence, angst, dark romance, canon divergence. Crack treated seriously. Yandere undertones, implied stalking, panty stealing, major character death, size kink, voyeurism, possessive sex, twisted, fluffy feelings. Loner boy/gentle girl dynamic. Protective!Obsessive!Top!König. Reader works as a cleaner at the base. She is described to have hair and prefers to wear dresses off work. Not safe or sane but mostly consensual.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The knife still juts from the table.

She touches it often, fondles the handle like it's her lover.

Days pass, and König escapes her stare with raised shoulders and poorly disguised hurt in his eyes. She feels his eyes on her every single time she's not looking.

He breaks into her room every night, but she never wakes up to his presence. The only thing that tells her the man's been there are the fresh flowers on her table next to the knife.

He brings her flowers every morning, just like he promised, and she keeps the blade there to remind him that he's still in her heart. It's like a silent conversation, and it stabs her stomach full of pain.

On the fourth day, he returns her panties. They're covered in dried cum, and at first, it makes her feel disgusted. Then her heart flutters, a warm feeling settles deep inside her stomach when she imagines him jerking himself off to her underwear amidst his knives, with despair and longing coating the air.

For anyone else, it might be a chilling thing to wake up to: to open eyes to the sight of a brutal tactical knife, freshly picked forget-me-nots and some cum-stained lace. But for her, it's a loving attempt to remind her who she belongs to. It's also a sign that the man is trying to let her go and finally obey her wishes to be left alone.

And she doesn't want to be left alone.

He promised she would never be alone.

On the fifth day, there's no flowers, there's nothing. She starts her day with a horrible, awful bawl. Then she puts on a black dress. It makes her look odd, like she's in mourning, but it also gives her… power, somehow. Even if it's another cute kind of cotton babydoll dress, it makes her look more austere.

“König, wait.”

She chases him down this time: runs to his retreating form that stops the instant she calls his name. He’s tense when she walks the last steps to him and hugs him from behind. The familiar scent of tea tree and gasoline and sweat and guns bring a visceral memory of madness to her mind. It’s an ambrosia of crude virility, and she's missed him, God, that she's missed him.

It's also safety. Because no matter what anyone says, he is the only one who knows her, sees her, sees right into her core, her very soul.

He slowly places a hand on hers, the arms that embrace his narrow, treelike middle.

"Engel…"

The voice comes out tight and strained. He caresses her hand with hesitation and swallows.

"I'm confused.. I don't know what you want me to do."

"Come with me," she whispers in his back. He has no gear on, and she can feel his abs through the black shirt, the way his shoulder blades flare against her cheek with shallow breaths. "If you want…?"

"Ganz sicher."

She takes him by the hand and guides him to her room. People look at them with pity and dread, and she feels like they’re in high school where people were divided into groups of popular and unpopular.

She knows where she and König would’ve belonged. Where they belonged now…

And she just doesn't care anymore.

When the door to her room shuts behind him, she feels a little tug near her heart. She had nearly forgotten how big König looks inside her little room, the space she has tried to turn into a cozy home even though she doesn't view the base as her home like the soldiers do. It's just a place for her to reside in when she's working.

But he does not fit into a normal society like she does. The base must be the closest thing to a home for him. Not every elite soldier is a lunatic perhaps, but König certainly couldn't find any other job in the modern world that would cater to his needs without sending him behind bars.

But he was supposed to kill only in the field. Only somewhere far, far away.

Why did you do it?

Why…?!

That's what she meant to ask when they're behind closed doors, but something quite different comes out instead.

"Did you miss me…?"

She stands before him, holding her hands in front of her, looking probably quite silly clad in black.

"I've been in hell ever since I left, Engel."

Christ have mercy…

Normal men just didn't talk like that.

"Will you forgive me?" He looks her up and down, but the calm, proud posture, the way he holds his chin high behind that dark shroud tells her he's not used to begging. She has a feeling that this question is asked only because Soap suggested it would be a good idea to apologize for making her so upset.

"It's not me you should be–" She sighs. "Look… That man had a wife. König, I think he had a kid and everything."

His eyes are covered in a veil of disinterest only she can pierce. There's actually so much going on behind that odd, distanced stare. But what’s horrifying is that he clearly doesn’t agree with her on this matter.

"I kill people every week," he declares. "Just not in the break room."

His logic leaves her wordless for a moment. The officer was not an enemy, he was not part of some foreign military, his only crime was that he was in a hurry…

She has barely even opened her mouth to speak before he finally defends himself.

"How do you know his wife is not secretly happy with the news?"

The question is like a bucket of ice dipped in her head. She had prepared herself for almost anything but this. König only tilts his head and narrows his stare.

"Would you want to be wife to that kind of man?"

Her mouth opens on its own; her jaw would fall to the floor if it could do such a thing. His worldview unfolds before her in full, and it should disgust her: but all she feels is an odd thrill in her stomach from realizing this man is not only possessive; he's also fiercely traditional.

"He just spilled some coffee on me," she whispers in soft, tender horror. "He just happened to have a bad day."

"How many times a week did he have a bad day?"

The defense is solid, even if it's preposterous. The man was rude and disrespectful, yes. To everyone, every day, probably continued the abuse at home, too. But he didn't deserve to be killed for it. Still, König doesn't seem to find any fault in his way of thinking.

"I can tell when people are evil," he crosses his arms over his chest as a final note.

Evil…

Evil.

She's left blinking, then she finds her tongue again.

"You can't just… deal punishment like that," she huffs.

"Why not?"

Jesus Christ…

His arms are still over his chest, and he looks… so big, so powerful, like an omnipotent being.

Probably thinks he is.

"Will you go to jail?" She changes the subject because arguing with this kind of man seems futile. Downright hopeless.

"No," he says with perpetual calm. "Would you want to see me in jail?"

"...No."

He finally unravels his arms and takes a few steps toward her. That swaying lounge is intoxicating and seductive, even when he doesn't mean it as such. It's just the way he walks, but it makes her woozy.

"Engel. You are too… kind for this world."

More odd arguments are laid out before her, more confusion and love and pain. He raises a hand to touch her arm and make his point clear. The weight of him is heavy and adult, his military clothing is in blaring contrast to her tiny, childish dress.

"You don't understand it now, but perhaps someday you will."

The man looks like he doesn't quite know what to do with her. She's a child in his eyes, but something in this lunacy tells her she's dealing with a child, too: a boy who no one ever loved.

"My little angel. Always wearing pretty dresses," he says more softly now.

"I'm not an angel."

"Yes you are," he rules without effort. "And you look good in everything. But you shouldn't wear black."

"Why not…?"

"Because you belong with flowers."

Her heart aches, her eyes prick with burning tears. He's self-aware, that's for sure. He knows what he has done to her, what he is doing to her. And he wishes to spare her from him.

"I thought you liked black," she peeps, her mind and will and defense breaking.

He doesn't say anything, but his hand brushes down her cheek, then cups her chin softly. That same hand must be ironclad when it grips his enemies and brings them to his blade.

"I like this dress," she tries to quarrel, voice shaking.

"And I know a knife that would go perfectly with it."

His eyes are warm. There's even a passing sadness in them. She's relatively sure that he's not talking about butterfly knives any longer – she's almost certain that König hasn't gifted his weapons to any other human being on this earth.

“How about we take off that pretty little dress now, hmm?”

The time for the compulsory explanations is over in his mind, and it’s time for sex. He knows that his exile has ended, that whatever liminal space they walked in for a few days wasn’t enough to rid herself of him. There’s no turning back anymore, and he looks at her with amused hunger when she obeys his suggestion which is, in truth, a command.

Her fingers do not shake anymore as she undresses for him, but a shiver goes through her guts: that stare is a look from beyond. He’s a madman, and falling more in love with her every day, even if the only way he knows how to love is by stabbing people with his cock or his knife.

“Lie down,” he gives her more orders when she stands before him with nothing on.

It’s futile, completely futile to pretend that she doesn’t want this. It’s almost like an act, the way she slowly and demurely obeys his command. In reality, she wants nothing more than to be devoured by him.

He takes his clothes off while she waits for him on the bed like an injured bird. He rips, then throws his gloves off like they have done something naughty, all the while his gaze is fixed on her. She has missed the sight of that faint hair on his abs, missed that broad chest, missed how his muscles bunch even when he gets out of a shirt that weighs practically nothing in his hands.

The long, veined cock flies out from his pants with a demanding bounce that makes her swallow. They form an odd pair on the floor: her little dress and his huge woodland camos. His eyes are surrounded in black paint under the eternal mask, but otherwise, he's the palest man she has ever seen.

Her breasts rise and fall with aroused breaths as he settles himself beside her, naked and blazing. His cock is pure fire when it gets trapped between them, and he's already drooling hot precum on her thigh.

He's gentle, kind of. Slides a hand over her shivering stomach, palms one breast, then takes a nipple between his fingertips and gives her a pinch.

“Did you miss me too?”

The hood makes him look like a hangman, and he’s infuriatingly patient now. She expected him to rail her like a sex toy right after the door was closed.

"Yes."

He releases her, and the callous descends with a gentle, deliberate caress to her waist.

"Then you're the first who ever did."

She just might be the first woman he's gentle with, too, and she cannot help but think if it's because of what she said just before he killed that poor man. If the last piece of the puzzle locked in place when he realized how much she admired him. If her confession also made him stake his claim in the loudest possible way, announcing everyone that he's her protector.

It's not her fault that the man's dead, but she should be ashamed: she's wet already when the murderer's fingers delve further down to meet her folds. He disappears somewhere in her wetness, and her thighs rise and drift apart to give him full access.

And it's always like this: she spreads legs for him with a helpless, longing stare, he takes in what belongs to him with dark, pleased hunger.

He finds her clit in no time, drags his thumb over it, and she gasps. Her breaths come quick now, her nipples are shot to the sky and her back is already arching when he delves down and slides one finger inside. It's long and lean, and her cunt grips him like they have been apart for four weeks instead of four days.

He sighs under the mask, just from her greedy response. She wants to touch him too, but doesn't dare to move when he's looking at her like that. He starts to finger her gently, first with one, then two digits while attending to the tight nub on top. And he's good with a knife, quick with his hands, so what did she expect?

But she’s also sad and mad. Because he definitely knows what he’s doing. And it makes her think…

"Have you had a lot of women..?"

Her question is a mouse's whisper. His fingers halt inside her; they spread her with delicious torture.

"A few," he says. "Back in Austria."

He buries his face in her neck and nuzzles his way to her ear. The bag of darkness is soft and hot, but nothing compared to his heated whisper.

"But they were nothing like you."

He punctuates the declaration by curling the fingers inside her. She bites her lip to stifle a filthy, needy moan. He even grinds his hips against her: that cock is like a heated spear against her soft thigh, and more cum oozes out to trickle down her leg.

"How many men have had you, Engel?"

He doesn't ask: how many men has she had. She may not be his plaything, but she is his possession. In his mind, she belongs to him and only him, no matter who has come before. But the murderous passion with which he waits for her answer makes her flustered, and she bolts her mouth tight in an indication that she will not disclose this information.

"Gut. Don't tell. I would kill them all."

Oh.

Oh…

"Would you like that…?"

"No," she whimpers.

"Yes you would."

“I don’t–I don't want you to–”

“Shh.”

He’s working those fingers smooth and quick, and she’s already leaking on his hand, probably on the bed, too… The room is filled with sighs and whimpers and sobs as he fucks her with slick, wet sounds. She's close the edge in mere minutes, but he won’t let her finish.

Instead, he pulls out just when she's about to tighten around him.

"Why-why did you stop?"

"Angel... Take me in your mouth," he rasps, breathless too despite trying to disguise it. She briefly wonders if this is some sort of a punishment. That perhaps she’s ordered to give him a blowjob just when she’s about to come – after all, she has dared to keep him waiting for days.

But that’s not the case, it seems, as she moves with heavy limbs to fulfill his wish.

"Nein… Other way around. I want to taste you."

The perverse suggestion in the break room turns into a reality as she realizes what he wants to do. Her heart is pounding when she crawls on top of him to meet that leaking cock. How exactly is that thing even going to fit inside her mouth?

A sudden shyness takes her as her thighs are forced into a wide-legged spread from straddling the broadest man on earth. She's exposed to the cold air only for a second before his breath hits her. The shortest shadow of a stubble on that usually clean-shaven chin meets her soaked cunt with hunger.

“Ah… Take it– in your mouth,” he moans orders to her folds, and her cunt clenches immediately, just from hearing that accent and that voice.

She moves to give him a shy lick, sweeps a tongue over that tip to clean him from all that precum. He goes tense under her and breathes heavily when she wraps her hand around him, wraps her mouth around the weeping slit.

He tastes of salt and sin, and the minute she tries to take more of him in, he groans with a dry throat. It's a hot, broken breath that travels straight inside her. It’s too much – the position is far too stimulating, it’s over the top wicked.

And then he starts to lick her. It messes up the blowjob that has barely even started. She knows his hood must be almost completely off, otherwise he wouldn't be able to breathe.

"Take a bit more, Engel," he urges between the long slathers that already sound lewd. There's simply no way to take it fully in, he’s far too long for that. The last thing she wants to do is gag on him. But she does a good enough job, tries to concentrate on breathing through her nose as she goes as deep as she can.

"That's…more like it…"

It’s a relieved notion somewhere behind her before he continues with the agonizingly slow licks. Fat and flat-tongued, the work of a famished man. For someone who's so clumsy with social interaction, he’s infuriatingly good at giving pleasure to women. The tip of his tongue grazes her clit, and causes a muffled moan – her mouth is full of him but she just cannot help herself.

And arms of steel close around her middle the minute she whimpers on his cock. They pull her closer to his face – he wants to hear her make noise, then, and her will to compete arises. She wants to make him moan too. She ups the pace, flattens her tongue on him every time she retreats…

"Where did you learn to–nnh…"

She nearly laughs at his surprise, at their silly little competition. He's shocked, probably jealous too, of her past and the imagined cavalcade of men who may or may not have been inside her mouth before him. She swirls a tongue around the tip every now and then, wraps her lips tight around him, and goes even deeper.

"Verdammte Scheiße.. I'm not going to last long…"

Strong thighs around her power up, and he has stopped licking her altogether: he's just panting in her pussy and holding on to her hips while waiting for the upcoming wave.

"You know what to do, ja?" He pants that question like she doesn't know he's about to shoot a load on her tongue soon.

"Don't make a mess," he shares advice with a sly tone to his voice. "Unless you want to clean after…"

He gives a short laugh as if the joke is funny. As if that's a clever thing to say to a cleaning lady. It makes her grip him harder, and he's close, so close: he's not even moving anymore, everything's just completely rigid under her body and inside her mouth.

"I'm fucking–cumming…"

He spills with a long groan, moans against her cunt, cries inside her with pain. The seed is hot and heavy, it shoots right down her throat even in this position. She does the best she can to not make that mess, but it's hard work when a giant cock pulses in her mouth.

"You're perfect, angel," he sighs behind her, tries to feed more of himself inside her mouth by rolling his hips.

The praise makes her pump and suck him even more, get every last drop out, and a tremble goes through her lover. She has to take support from the bed until the earthquakes recede. His cock is a clean mess after, and she's a mess too: overworked, and shy, and victorious.

They're both left panting: she tries to catch some breath there between his thighs after everything, but she's not allowed to rest and recover. The grip around her middle pulls her back, and a breathless man trying to lick her like it's the end of the world is not only far too much, it's unbearable. She's already overly sensitive and needy from the four days of barren grief.

"It's too much…" She tries to tell him, but he won't listen. If anything, it only spurs him on.

"König, I can't," she wails softly while resting her head on his thigh.

"Yes you can."

A feverish tongue dips inside her as deep as it goes. It forces her legs apart, she spreads herself all over his face completely unwillingly. There's no mercy for her as he flicks a tongue over her clit, plunges a tongue inside her as deep as it goes, returns to the nub again – does it again and again and again like it's some secret code meant to break her.

"You like that, huh?" His rough voice is muffled by her cunt, he sounds both parched and wet.

"Hm? Talk to me," he demands an answer although it should be obvious that she's losing her mind from his treatment.

"Yes," she mewls while being spread so crudely wide for him. "I… I love it…"

"Hah. You sound like a little cat," he laughs, pleased, then gets to it again. She's so close now that she can feel the growing waves. Her thighs are not just shaking, they're trembling.

"So pretty and so wet," he comments between the licking and dipping, voice covered with smoke from all the lust. And he's hard again, too: right next to her face, and she could cry actual tears – what if he plans on fucking her too after this? It's too much, she can't even take this, she can't…

But she does.

Her back starts to arch just before the orgasm. She's not weeping yet, but every noise she makes sounds like she's crying her heart out.

"Slow down, slow–down, please…"

She's a one-woman choir of tight pleas. She tries to muffle them by burying her face somewhere in his thighs and musk. The tongue dips in and out like he's a machine and not a man, and the first wave hits unexpectedly, like a searing, white-hot blade.

"A–ah!"

The climax swallows her, she starts grinding against that face without meaning to. He only laughs and buries his nose and tongue deeper into her slickness. The arms around her hold her like iron bars, his breaths hit her along with his tongue like she's strapped to a torture device.

Her cunt is sloppy, and throbbing, and he is a torturer, licks her even when she's lying on top of him in ruin: a devastated, trembling heap of a woman who's lost everything.

"Stop–König, you need to stop…"

Her weak whispers do nothing. His tongue sweeps her from front to back until she's crying on top of him. Frail fingers try to claw his thighs but grasp nothingness.

When he finally relents, he does it with another laugh. Then he gives her a last lick: a total bully, snorts a chuckle when a tremble goes through her entire body from just that single, fat sweep.

"Mmm. That was good. Right?"

"M–mh…"

There are tears in her eyes, but not one comes out. Her pussy throbs and winks with the aftershocks, and his hand moves up and down her back like she's that little cat.

"You're mean," she sobs. Complains.

"Heh… you didn't like it?"

"I did," she sniffs, and his hand moves to caress her thigh.

"I know you did. I know you. Everything about you."

He sounds merciful at last, pats her leg softly.

"Come here. I'll take care of you."

When she turns and crawls back to him, his mask is fully in place. He receives her with open arms and speaks more softly than ever.

"I have to take care of you after. Isn't that so?"

"Yes…"

She holds onto him, because he's the only thing that's solid in her world at this point. His aftercare is the most tender thing she has ever known: her hair is being caressed gently, the tension in her neck and back is soothed with long, loving strokes. He buries his mask in her hair and inhales her after-sex scent like it's a whole offering of incense.

"Angel. You feel like… like it's my birthday."

His statement brings another round of tears to her eyes. Instinct tells her that birthdays might've been the only happy days of the year for this man.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

He sounds worried when she's so quiet and timid again. Her heart settles slowly into a warm pool of love, she presses herself against him with fervor, and he squeezes her in turn like she's the most perfect birthday present ever.

"No."

I really needed that.

I need you…

"I will never let you go again," he promises. "Never. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she whispers. "I don't– I don't want you to go."

"Little one. I'm so glad I found you."

He takes her palm and uses it to brush away the hood from his lips. The violent edge is always taken away after sex, and the devouring is gentle, the passion is blunt. His kiss is soft; sweet.

"König…" She's raw and bare in his arms, her adoration reflects back to her from his blues. "Why did you pick me?"

"You're the one who picked me, Engel. I just answered your call."

He takes in the effect this truth has on her, then takes her breath away with another kiss. A small giggle erupts in the lazy afternoon as he threatens to crush her with a bear hug. Her hand steals its way further under the mask: she meets smooth skin and a collection of even smoother bumps.

"Why can't I see your face..?"

"It's not a pretty sight," he sighs. "Father liked to cut me when I was little."

The laziness leaves her body that very instant. The man is detached, distant: as if he's sharing something trivial, the city he grew up in or his favorite subject in school.

She doesn't know whether to feel pity or terror, but what he says next sends even more ice down her spine.

"Now I cut those who are evil."

Everything starts to make perfect sense.

Why he was bullied at school, why people fear him. Why disrespectful, cruel men deserve to be knifed and why women and wives are angels. Why he wears a mask.

It's not sound reasoning, but it is a strategy, perhaps. Survival… A defense mechanism.

And offense is the best defense…

She had been right: this man is incurable, only in ways she could never have guessed.

Afterwards, he shows her his knives.

His room is full of them: combat knives, throwing knives, bowie knives, daggers, bayonets, balisongs, two machetes, a kukri, knives she doesn't even have a name for… There's swords and sticks and a riot shield. There's only one bed, nothing more, not even a nightstand.

And the room is also full of guns.

Assault rifles, sniper rifles, shotguns, handguns; there's scopes, tripods, gloves, gas masks, a ghillie suit, pouches, plate carrier vests, magazines, grenades, even a launcher.

The room is filled with violence.

And she didn't know what she expected.

Some "Hot Gun Babes" wall calendar and a few pocket knives? That he would play by the rules and keep weapons and gear where they were stored instead of in his fucking room?

He gives her his third gift that pairs well with her black dress, or any dress, for that matter. Another knife, but not the kind he kills people with, nor the flimsy kind used for entertainment purposes.

She receives an automatic switchblade, simple but pretty. The double-edged blade looks almost feminine, the way it curves into a sharp, dainty tip. The handle is made of sturdy, polished wood; it's incredibly beautiful and so dark it's nearly black. The knife is only a threat when it's flicked open: all in all a piece that isn’t what it seems.

"Hier. Good little blade. Would take it wherever I go."

"Thank you."

"Anything for you, Engel."

She kisses him after his gift. She kisses the white scar on his jaw, lifts the mask a bit more, and he doesn't stop her. He doesn't stop her, not even when she finds more keloid cuts and kisses them too.

And he's… simply a man.

There's a human under all that darkness.

It's not a pretty sight, perhaps, but for those scars, she couldn't love him more.

"You're not afraid of me," he sounds surprised when she takes in the violence done to his face with tenderness in her gaze.

"No."

He's speechless. The barricade covering his eyes is permanently broken, and she can see him, all of him.

She falls to her knees and opens his pants, gives the man another round of love. He looks at her with pain and pleasure; a pale, adoring god. Strokes her hair gently while she gets drunk on him like a succubus, wants him to spill that white on her face and all over her pretty black dress.

"Cum on my face, König."

She looks at him with angel eyes while saliva and drool make a rope from her mouth to his throbbing cock. But there is nothing left of the celestial, nothing more than a sweet, fallen angel, and a safe space just for her and him.

"Please…?"

Ruin me.

He hesitates a few seconds, then grabs his cock in an iron fist like it's heavy artillery.

"Whatever my angel wants, she shall have."

. . . . . .

He brings her flowers every morning and fucks her every night.

Sometimes he catches her when she's outside in the sun, reading a book or watching the clouds. He carries her off to the woods and takes her against a tree like they're the first man and woman on the earth after tasting the forbidden apple. They share a few hushed laughs and more than a few desperate kisses under the hood, then he brings her back to earth, straightens her dress like a gentleman before leaving to have a date with death.

He takes her out to eat sometimes, takes her to the shooting range. Calls her his little Wildkatze when she takes a liking to one of his shotguns. He takes her hand when they stroll through the grass and sings an old love song from his homeland. He has a beautiful voice, especially when he forgets he's in company. Or perhaps she's just special like that…

They share a secret language in the base. Whenever he sees her, he draws his knife and throws it in the air ("I miss you") or twirls it around ("The things I will do to you tonight…"). Sometimes, he just places a hand on the handle of the cruel blade. That stands for 'You're mine'.

It's the closest thing to I love you before either of them have spoken the actual words. Or then it's the closest thing to I love you he's capable of.

She gives him a small smile in return, puts a hand in her pocket and fondles the gift she carries everywhere she goes. He knows it's a nod to his secret messages. It stands for 'You're my everything'.

She keeps the switchblade with her even when she's wearing a dress after work. Red this time, the color of passion.

She wants to surprise him: König always comes to her before nightfall, but this time, she wants to go and visit him. She wants him to take her in the middle of black steel and acrid gunpowder while she's dressed in blood.

"Be a darling and fix me a cup of coffee, will you?"

She's stopped by Phillip Graves of all people. Another man who has never paid her any attention. Apparently, red cloth is the same thing for evil men as it is for the enraged animals in bullfighting shows.

She does stop, but she doesn't obey his wishes. She just stares him down like he's filth: another thing she thought she could never do.

I'm not your coffee girl.

"C'mon honey. I've had a bad day." The man only seems to feed off from her silent scorn: like it's some dark game they're playing now. "You could make it so much better."

For fuck's sake…

Here is a man who disrespects everything about her: her position as a cleaner, her value as a woman, her rank as a shy being who is too kind for this world. She's simply a doll who doesn't know how to kill, who doesn't know how to say no. This man however, won't take no for an answer.

"I'm not here to serve coffee," she says with pure ice.

"Is that so?"

"Yes. And I'm off duty, too."

"Thought we could have a little chat, you and I."

"Why?"

"You seem like an interesting woman."

He seems pleased with the fact that for some reason, she's still here, that he has her attention. Thinks he's winning her over with some yucky flirting.

"And wearing a red dress like that…" He tsks, as if it's a crime for a woman to wear red. "Red can drive a man crazy, darling."

She understands why she has been invisible to everyone except König up until this point.

Because deep down, she knows if she would carry herself in full, show herself to the world as the woman she truly is, she would instantly attract love, and power, and hunger, and lust.

"I'm going to go now, sir."

"Tell you what. You serve me that coffee and I'll let you go."

She catches sadism in that stare. And to think she had always found Graves to be somewhat… arrogant, perhaps, but not cruel. The man obviously has a Napoleon complex, but he was not supposed to be sadistic.

How wrong she has been.

She knows she could just get out of the situation by filling that mug the bastard can't fill himself because of some stupid need to have a powerplay moment with an innocent little girl who happens to wear red.

But she doesn't want to. König would have ripped this guy's head off by now.

"I'm off duty," she repeats.

Fuck these men who are always looking for a plaything.

Graves rises from the chair. She's both cold and sweaty by the time he has taken a step, two, three.

But men are a bit stupid sometimes.

They think dresses don't have pockets.

When he takes the fourth and last step, with joy-tinged cruelty in his eyes, she flicks the knife out and open, and simply stabs him in the supposed direction of the organ called heart.

It feels thrilling, pure power: to sink that knife there and catch a man – a soldier of all people – unawares.

So this is what it feels like…

The hurt in his stare doesn't necessarily come from pain, but from the realization that he has made a huge miscalculation.

He looks down at the small knife that will be the end of him, then at her, the woman he thought was just a simple, shy cleaner he could bully into submission.

"You fucking–bitch," he gasps. Weakly.

By the time she pulls the knife out and stabs him again, she's somewhere far away. It hits him in the stomach, and he still doesn't do anything about it, and that's the moment she finds pity, and mercy, and horror.

She turns and stumbles, then runs from the room, unsure if the thump on the floor behind her is real or imagined.

"You fucking whore…!"

The shout is real enough though, and she runs, runs, with a sharp little knife in her hand for what seems like an eternity. That flight is a prolonged medieval torture moment that ends in front of König's door.

Her titan is as calm as ever when he opens the door, and tilts his head when he sees she's breathing fast.

"I think I killed Phillip Graves," she informs with eyes wide.

He blinks, then immediately looks at her hand, the knife, the blood. She goes to him, lifts a hand to his shirt in a desperate attempt to find support. There's not even that much blood. She thought killing would be much messier.

König said it would be messy.

"I… He…"

Her hands won't even shake. All her senses are blown wide and sharp, she sees everything, hears everything, but her hands won't shake.

Is she a psychopath?

"I killed Phillip Graves," she repeats, looks at his chest, clutches at the knife, clutches at his shirt.

The door behind her closes, and König takes hold of her shoulders with warm, warm hands.

"Well done, Engel," he says with such joy, such unbound pride that it snaps her back into reality.

Her jaw starts to tremble, her teeth clatter, she raises her eyes to him…

"He… He wanted coffee, and to talk, and he liked my dress, and–"

"Did he touch you?"

He asks it like it's far more important than what she has just done. She has to shuffle through her memory, but she finds no recalling of Graves laying a single finger on her.

"No."

He was about to. Right?

He was. He threatened me–

"Don't shed tears for him," König says as he looks down at her with mesmerized awe and infatuation. "I can promise you he doesn't deserve them."

Then he hugs her, squeezes her and just holds her, and she's still holding on to the murder weapon.

What will everyone say? What will my friends say?

"My little angel is good with a knife," the titan laughs proudly somewhere high above her.

People have killed each other since the dawn of time.

These things happen.

I'm not the first murderer on this planet.

"My poor little… He was a bad man, Engel. I promise you that."

It's not a big deal. He was a killer too.

He could've died in the field…

"I'm going to jail," she whispers on his shirt. She wants to let go of the knife, but fears it might hurt him or her when it falls.

And she remembers she's not dealing with normal people.

"They will kill me for this," she says with distant realization.

"No they won't," he strokes her hair like she's the best pet he has ever had. "I will take the blame. It was my knife, ja?"

She pushes herself away to look at him, then nods slowly. Her jaw just won't stop trembling.

"Good girl," he pulls her against him again, so fondly that it forces out a whimper.

"Mh."

"Come here," he coos while already holding her so impossibly close. He's surprisingly good at this: at comforting her. Or then it simply feels uncommonly good to have someone sturdy to hang on to while her life and identity are falling apart.

"I'm not sure if he's dead," she whispers when the embrace lingers on. König breaks the hug immediately.

"You didn't confirm the kill?"

She must look like a shy cleaner again, because his resolve is stone cold and solid.

"Engel, I will go and finish it. Where is he?"

She tells, because he would find out anyway. He would start a manhunt and cause even more ruckus.

But when his hand reaches the doorknob, when he's already about to go and finish her crime on top of taking the full blame for it, he turns.

"Do I have your permission?"

Her jaw slowly stops trembling, and a soft sweetness spreads through her heart. The elite soldier, the mass murderer, asks for her permission.

She is more than just special…

"Yes," she whispers, and he gives her a curt nod before storming out the door.

And he's not living in the 21st century.

Instead, he walks in the world of gladiators, rages in a blood-drunk arena, lives in a time where killing was the norm. He solves problems with physical force: it's just that simple. There is no complex society, there are no rules other than the rules of the heart and the loins.

Anyone who disrespects her will get the blade, anyone who might take her away from him will make him do whatever is in his power to prevent it.

And he has the ultimate power: the power of violence.

He comes back surprisingly clean: only a tiny speckle of blood on his camos and some vivid-colored grime on his hands.

"Done."

She nods with solemn silence. She's done, too. Done with everything, because everything's gone. No matter how high the sun is, she will walk in darkness from now on.

"I believe you Engel. He swore he didn't touch you."

And God.

She might be special, but a dying enemy's, a man's word is more worth to him than hers. As if she would try to protect Graves from his wrath by lying.

And Graves wasn't even dead…

But he is now. Probably tortured too to get the truth out about not soiling her with his paws.

"Did anyone see you..?"

"No. But they will know it was me."

It's another gift to her. Another murder. And her purity, intact, in exchange for a compliment, a testimony of his character during a lazy coffee break. For a few kisses on his scars of abuse. For letting him fuck her like a beast.

Her gifts are burning tears, soft flesh and tight little cries…

His gifts are cold, black steel, hot, white cum and a stream of crimson blood.

"Thank you…"

"I would do anything for you." He bows his head, a little nod to inform her that he is hers to command. "Anything you want, just ask."

She's at home in hell, filled with guns and knives and a fallen god. She knows he will take her again tonight, just like he has done every night in the past weeks. In every position imaginable, grunting, howling, panting, laughing how sweet she is, asking if she likes what he is doing to her. She has always whispered yes through tears of hot joy.

Sometimes, they come together and their gazes lock, and it feels like drifting into a starless space with him. He strokes her hair and coats her with whispers of love before they fall asleep. They always curl up together in the cover of womblike darkness, with soft little smiles on their faces, safe from all evil.

"Can you keep me safe…?"

It's a sad little question, but she doesn't feel weak. She knows he is lost in her too: especially when she's wearing a dress the color of blood, especially when she looks at him like he's her God.

"Please keep me safe."

He comes to her carefully, answers her summons. She's pulled into a familiar embrace, and she doesn't even think about Graves anymore: she thinks about whether König will take her on the bed that smells of acid sweat or on the wall next to the gun rack.

"Always, Engel. I promise."

She holds the most powerful weapon in her tiny little hand. A dark, fallen titan who has risen from the depths of the earth to pledge himself to her, body and soul, while her innocent little dresses flutter in the wind and make everyone believe she's a victim. But she doesn't feel sorry.

Because it's just like he said.

They belong together, she and him.

🖤 🖤 🖤

Taglist:

@ghostinvenus @konigsleftkidney @stillinracooncity @valenspuppy @koionthewalls

#könig x reader #könig x female reader #könig x you #könig smut #könig fanfiction #könig #mw2 smut #mw2 fanfic #konig x reader #könig mw2 #call of duty #mw2 x reader #yandere könig #könig imagine #just friends #just friends fic

[sooshihu]

charles leclerc x reader x lando norris (just a small bit at the end) ~ instgram au

prompt: everyone's favourite swiftie wag gets betrayed by her two closest people

!!no hate to charles or alexandra ofc!!

warnings: cheating, swearing

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux and 31,874 others

yourusername isn't it just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?

thank you, A✨

tagged alexandrasaintmleux

view top comments

user1 THEY'RE SO PRETTY WTF

alexandrasaintmleux ❤️‍🩹🍷

liked by yourusername

user2 i love them both so much ahhh

user3 atleast now we know Charles doesn't starve

user4 fr what would he do without her😭

user5 y/n being a swiftie is everything to me

view all 86 comments

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and 1,253,892 others

charles_leclerc enjoying the summer break to the fullest with my one and only❤️

tagged yourusername

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user6 THEY'RE SO CUTE I CAN'T-

user7 well deserved holiday💪

yourusername love you, lover🩷✨

charles_leclerc je t'aime plus❤️‍🩹

user7 THEIR INTERACTION IN THE COMMENTS HELPP THEY'RE ADORABLE

pierregasly hi y/n!!

yourusername hi pierre!!

carlossainz55 hi y/n!!

yourusername hi carlos!!

landonorris hi y/n!!

yourusername hi lando!!

user9 i want what they have

user10 already excited for the next gp!!!

user11 yesssss Charles feed us with the y/n content!!!!!!! 🤭

view all 1,253 comments

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc,pierregasly and 97,562 others

yourusername i was enchanted to meet you✨

tagged charles_leclerc

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user12 I LOVE THE FACT THAT Y/N'S A SWIFTIE

user13 y/n's my favorite wag because not only is she super nice to the fans and interacts with them every chance she gets but you can also see how much she truly loves him

charles_leclerc love you so much, gorgeous ❤️

yourusername love you more, lover 🩷✨

user14 OKAY BUT THE TAYLOR REFERENCES

user15 it's so cute to me that she calls him lover 😭

user16 me and who?

user17 you don't understand how much i NEED what they have

user18 fav couple on the grid i mean look at them

view all 986 comments

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux and 43,683 others

yourusername the best people in life are free❤️

tagged charles_leclerc and alexandrasaintmleux

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user19 OMG THE TRIO WE NEVER KNEW WE NEEDED

user20 i'm so happy for y/n that charles and alex are getting along because i remember how hard it was for me when my bf and best friend weren't getting along

user21 yeah this happend to me too it was awful so i'm also happy she doesn't have to experience that

user22 she looks so happy😭🩷

user23 fr if something happens to her i'm gonna throw hands

alexandrasaintmleux thank you for the weekend, love 🥰

liked by yourusername

user24 you can see how much she loves them both in her smile

user25 charles if you ever hurt her you better lock your doors because we're coming for you

user26 charles and y/n are my absolute everything

alexandrasaintmleux

liked by yourusername and 2,396 others

alexandrasaintmleux 🌺

comments are limited

yourusername excited to meet your mystery man!!!!

liked by alexandrasaintmleux

wagsf1

liked by 3,096

wagsf1 rumours are that Charles Leclerc and his longtime girlfriend Y/n Y/l/n broke up after Charles was seen with Y/n's best friend Alexandra Saint Mleux. some people think Charles was with Alexandra during his relationship with Y/n.

see top comments

user27 charles fucking leclerc i'm coming for you.

user28 nooo they were the only reason i believed in love 😭😭😭

user29 poor y/n she got betrayed by her two favourite people. i can't imagine how hurt she must be.

user30 this is completely disgusting from both charles and alexandra

user31 they stabbed her in the back poor y/n

user32 so charles must be the guy who was in alexandra's newest post

user33 y/n was excited to meet alexandra's bf well probably not anymore

user34 guys i think it's true y/n unfollowed them both on all social media...tbh i don't blame her

view all 238 comments

charles_leclerc

liked by alexandrasaintmleux and 567,497 others

charles_leclerc 🖤

tagged alexandrasaintmleux

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user35 it's not even a month from the break up...too soon bro

user36 at least he's happy? idk if i'm trying to convince myself or someone else

user37 i love how pierre liked every post with y/n but he didn't like this one😭

user38 i can't wait to see y/n's revenge era

user39 NAH FR REPUTATION ERA COMING SOON

view all 214 comments

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, landonorris and 87,093 others

yourusername She's not a saint

and she's not what you think

she's an actress

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user40 MOTHER🛐

user41 pierre being team y/n is my fav thing😭

user42 AHH REVENGE ERA IS HERE

user43 MOTHER IS MOTHERING

liked by yourusername

user44 when i tell you that i almost choked on air when i saw this

user45 CHARLES PUNCHING THE AIR RN

user46 nah fr he lost THE Y/n Y/l/n i would be punching the air too

user47 if i was y/n i'd show up to the next race in another team's merch purely out of spite

user48 i just know charles is regretting every choice in his life from signing contract with ferrari to cheating on y/n y/l/n

liked by yourusername

user49 adopt me please.

view all 247 comments

charles_leclerc

liked by scuderiaferrari and 548,239 others

charles_leclerc P15 today. not the result we hoped for but we'll keep pushing and next race will be diffrent.

view top comments

user50 cuz karma is her boyfriend, karma is a god✨

user51 i'm not even mad that ferrari failed him this time

user52 guys calm down y/n told us not to hate on charles and alex

scuderiaferrari 💪❤️

user53 taste of betrayal isn't good is it,Charles?

view all 367 comments

yourusername

liked by landonorris and 98,563 others

yourusername i'm doing better than i ever was🤍🌿✨

view top comments

user54 i'm so happy that she's finally happy🥹

user55 she deserves this

user56 HER SMILE😭 SHE'S FINALLY HAPPY AGAIN

landonorris photo credits? no?

liked by yourusername

yourusername my greatest apologies. everyone Lando Norris took these pictures📸

liked by landonorris

user57 lando?!? hello?!?

user58 ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

user59 from ferrari to mclaren??

user60 i met her yesterday and even though i was wearing charles' merch she was so nice. i asked her for a picture and we even had a small conversation. she's one of the nicest people i've ever met.

user61 i don't understand how they could do something like that to such a nice person. the important thing now is that she's happy again.

user62 MOTHER🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

liked by yourusername

view all 341 comments

user63 she's so pretty i can't-😭😭😭😭

user64 she's healing🤍

#charles lecrelc #Spotify #f1 #charles leclerc x reader #formula 1 #formula one #cl16 #cl16 x reader #lando norris #carlos sainz #pierre gasly #ferrari #scuderia ferrari

[2smolbeans]

Yandere and angst mixed in one fic

Thanks for the request!! It's not really a fic but a thought based on that.Thouughhh the qualilty is kinda ehhh..lol- it was still fun to think and write though!:

__________________________

Yandere Angst Scenario

Tags: implied bullying, sadism, yandere goes from cruel to a desperate individual, darling had feelings for the yan but then lost them, mentioned ex partner, angst.

___________________________

Imagine a yandere who absolutely despises you but desperately clings onto you. They need you but at the same time berate you for the littlest of things. They say they love you but never fail to make you cry. They claim that you have them wrapped around your thumb but can easily ruin your life just by muttering a few words into someone's ear. You try to get away, but they always follow.

There's been multiple times where they've come into your workplace, only to slowly turn everyone against you. Passive glances, total silence, uncomfortable deadpanned stares. You've never felt so alone whenever they were in your life. You'd be all alone, and they would always be surrounded by others- smiling and passing by you without any acknowledgment. There was one time at a company celebration where everyone was supposed to be at a bar drinking together. Everyone sat at a table together, and you sat there alone, watching them. When you prepared to leave, you recalled them paying their farewells. You smiled, thinking it was for you, but only to realise in embarrassment that it was for the newbie who stood up after you made your way to the door. You remembered how empty you felt when you got home, no tears to be shed - but just that suffocating acceptance.

The worst part is, this person, the reason why your social life has always been in the dumps - was the person you were so in love with. It's funny how that works. Shouldn't you hate them? You can't bring yourself to though..It seemed so long ago, but there was one point that the two of you were in good terms. Were you friends? You weren't so sure. The memories were so distant, but the feelings were still there. Why did you like them again?

That didn't matter anymore. It didn't help that they were with someone you knew closesly only to hurt you out of spite. So what was the point in all this? The gossiping, the microaggressions, the dread. You've tried confronting them about it, only for them to feign innocence and make you feel stupid at the end.

"You think I'm the reason why your social life is shit? Seriously? How old are you?"

"Take a look in the mirror. Maybe that's why no one talks to you."

"Your desperation is so obvious and pathetic. It drives people away. So stop seeking validation from others and love yourself, kay?"

"Now sorry, I'm busy. I have someone to meet. Unlike you."

So this person that you love so much, that for some awful reason- seek validation from, crushes you in the most heartwrenching way. And when it comes to this person, they don't pay any mind to you. They like how you're underneath them. They adore how you seek validation from them in the most subtle of ways (even though its not really to them personally), and they find you laughable. You knew that for sure - they've told you so many times.

So, did they love you? Surprisingly, yes. In their own twisted way, this is how they loved you. So they break your heart over and over again. Eventually, though, you move on. You find new friends, workplaces, and lover.. Of course it would happen, nothing lasts forever. They let you have your fun of course- but begin to get tired of it. So they take it away all over again. Your friends..And of course, that lover.

So there you are, angry with tears as you stand outside their apartment. Banging on the door as you call out their name. They answer, and they stare at you- smiling as they tilt their head to the side mockingly, asking you whats wrong. You yell, scream, and sob as you show them the messages you're now ex sent you. How they framed you for cheating on them..With them.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? What the actual FUCK is wrong with you. I never fucked you, I never- EVER will. So why did you say that- why, WHY?! Wasn't it enough when you made my life at the office a living hell? Isn't it enough?!"

"Oh, you came. That was quick. Do you wanna come in? Or do you wanna continue making a scene out here? Your choice."

"A-Are you even listening?"

"In or out?"

So you go inside..And you just sit there on their couch crying. You think for a moment they have some remorse as they stare at you with empathy as they sit beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder..But..

"Oh hun..I just love seeing you cry. That's it. It's not over pure love or some complicated shit. It just turns me on seeing you all pathetic."

"I need you by my side. You're the only one who could ever feel so..Alive like this. Maybe I do love you. Who knows?"

"Maybe we could find out..I'm sorry you have to suffer like this..But..I mean what else is there to say pft?"

"I know I'm being selfish. So just bare with me alright?"

"I think I love you. I don't want you being with anyone else. At the same time..I want you crying because of me. Then that shows me how much I matter to you"

"You don't cry over a nobody..So I'm somebody to you"

"Don't you see why that's special? It's stupid...So huh, maybe I am in love with you."

"....I love you. I think? That's why I'm doing all this.."

Laughing bitterly, you just stare in disbelief as you shove them and leave.

"There’s something fucking wrong with you. Get help."

___________________________

Years later they would get softer as they realised how much you really mean to them. How much love you actually deserved, how dumb they were to use you in a way that was cruel. Sure even now they had sadistic urges, but they could've acted on them in other ways. God it's embarrassing thinking about it! Looking back on their cruelty like it was some middleschool cringe and not ruining someones well being- they often think about you and the ways they could bring you back.

They messed up, and the day you left and never returned made them realise it.

____________________________

"Hey, it's me-"

"Who the fuck are you? H-How did you get in?! Why are you in my house-"

"Look..I wanted to say sorry. 5 years ago I never realised how much you really meant to me, and I took that for-"

"I don't care go away. I'm calling the cops-"

"Says who? Try it, the service is dead."

"What..?"

"Look. I know you must've been pissed for the shit I pulled back then..But I changed! The day you left, I realised that-"

"Oh my god..It's you.."

"Yeah.. I know it's been a while.."

"Wasn't making my life miserable back then enough? Or not? You took a lot from me back then, what more could you want now?"

_____________________________

"So now you're sorry? You're only sorry cause I left. I'm never loving you, I never will."

"Well you don't know that.."

"Ohhh trust me. I know so."

"We'll see about that."

_____________________________

"Honey..Look stop struggling. I know back then I must've really hurt you, but it's going to be different now okay? I love you. I mean it. And I don't care how far I have to go to show that to you"

"I know you love me. You loved me before..So I know you'll love me again. I'm not the same as I was before, I promise!"

"Give me another chance..I promise I'll make you happy"

"So stop struggling, or I'll twist that pretty leg of yours."

"Aww..Sorry hun. Didn't mean to slap you that hard but- I think I kind of like this look on you.."

____________________________

.

.

A/N: So I tried to go for a sadistic yandere being cruel to their darling who had feelings for them but then went too far...Only for their darling to no longer like them due to the heart break!

#Ugh I tried lol #but man this was a good writing excersise! #thanks again for the request! #yandere tsundere #yandere male #male yandere #yandere female oc #yandere female oc x reader #yandere female x reader #yandere imagines #male yandere x reader #female yandere x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere angst #yandere prompt #yandere scenario #yandere headcanons #yandere oc #yandere ceo #female yandere #yandere blurb #yandere concept #yandere ocs #yandere oc x reader #2smolbeans ramble

[thee-radio-host-is-a-kookaburra]

Alright, I’m gonna make a post talking about BIID and how the radqueer community grooms kids into their gross ideas. Warning for mentions of anti-recovery ideas, grooming, childhood trauma, bigotry, and y’know, radqueer shit.

So, I have BIID. This is a disorder where one has the desire to amputate a healthy limb. Without going too much into detail, it is caused by my trauma relating to amputations from when I was a little kid. Now, seeing kids calling themselves “transabled” is horrifying to me. Let me explain;

Currently, there is no known cure for BIID. However, that doesn’t mean one should go through with amputation (or, in some cases, blinding or paralysis). This can cause many, many problems considering one would quite literally be disabling themself. Sometimes, simulating, and, in mine and some other’s cases, drawing, can help ease the discomfort of BIID without the need to disable yourself.

(I also want to add that I do not blame those with BIID who’s discomfort was too much and who went through with disabling themself. It is a disorder, and not everyone has access to things that can help them, nor will anyone fully be “cured” by things made to help them. You are not to blame.)

The transabled community, however, actively encourages this, as well as actively discourages seeking help. They claim people advocating to not disable yourself are “basically transphobic”. You can even find posts mocking those struggling with BIID.

And it doesn’t just stop at amputation.

This community also believes that one can “transition” into mental disabilities, and gives tips on how to give yourself these disabilities. Just scrolling through the “transabled” tag you can find people giving “advice” on how to get or act like you have these things.

So, let’s say you’re a kid with BIID. You find this community of people mocking those who are looking to recover, and are encouraging and even praising your disorder. Well, it doesn’t stop there. Let’s say you decide that you’re “transabled” and look into the community. And now, you find that not only do they discourage recovery for things like BIID, they also discourage recovery for harmful paraphilias.

Not only are they ‘pro-contact’ for things like actual pedophilia, they also promote the idea that minors being attracted to adults (a normal thing, btw) is actually being an AAM (adult attracted minor) and also believe that these minors should seek out adults. I can’t show screenshots because looking up “AAM” on Tumblr would put me on a watchlist. That’s how bad it is. I do, however, have examples of radqueers ENCOURAGING minor/adult relationships.

So, boom, you’ve got the perfect recipe for grooming. And, oh, did I mention the “transrapist” and “transnazi” stuff? Because yea, that exists too.

I could go on and on about how awful this community is. It blatantly manages to capture every sort of bigotry imaginable all while grooming kids and pretending it’s the most inclusive community on Earth.

Be aware.

#long post #important #biid #actually biid #anti radqueer #anti transabled #anti contact

[aesteraceae]

Since I'm not there...

Summary: In which d (predicably) goes feral over the lollapalooza performances and (unpredictably) writes their first ever Dom chan fic.

Or: You've seen Chan's Lollapalooza performance and have some thoughts about his outfit.

Notes: y'all I wrote this like 20 minutes ago and I hope u can tell how insanely unwell I am. Chan is.... Whoa. Just whoa.

Tags: chan/reader, fem reader, soft Dom chan, sub reader, phone sex, fingering, petnames (baby and sweetheart), patronizing language, aftercare

Lovely taglist: (special thanks to @snow-pegasus @simpracha & @jxsungie01 for indulging my brainrot) @sunnyville36 @toastyseungmo @sstarryoong @decaffedthoughts @bunnypig18 @xcookiemonsteer

You're pacing up and down the house, phone pressed tight to your ear and eyes glued to the tablet screen in front of you, showing a recording of the performance.

---

"Bang Chan!"

He just laughs over the receiver, full bodied and just the slightest bit mischievous.

"I guess you've seen the performance?"

You don't respond at first, just let out a pained scream-like noise as the video replays.

"You are so fucking lucky I'm not in Paris right now, oh my god-"

Chan laughs again, but it's darker, with a more dangerous edge.

"Oh yeah? And what would you do if you were here? You can barely hold yourself together watching a video."

You go still, blinking at nothing in particular, and you can almost imagine his grin at your silence.

"That's what I thought. It's cute that you were at least trying to be angry, though."

You scoff, but it sounds pathetic even to your own ears. "I am angry. I want-" You groan again, biting your lip.

"What? What do you want, baby?"

His voice is dripping with both condescension and amusement, and the pairing goes straight to your hips, pooling warmth there until you have no choice but to press your thighs together.

Still, though, when you open your mouth to respond, nothing comes out. You want to tell him that you want nothing more than to be bent over a couch or desk or hotel bed, split open on his cock while you watch his arms flex above you, but all you can manage is a pathetic sounding whine.

"Aw, baby. Is it too much for you? Too difficult, not being able to have me right now?"

You curse, and retreat to your bed. You have half a mind to fuck yourself on your fingers just to make him as desperate as you are, but your hands stay put on the phone and on your thigh.

"When are you getting back?" You ask instead of answering his question, and he laughs again.

"Tomorrow morning. How about this," There's a slight shuffling on the other end, like clothes being pulled off, "I'm going to send you a photo, and you are going to fuck yourself to it while I jerk off,"

You're already climbing up the bed, slipping lube out of a drawer and pulling off your pants.

"And then, when I get home, I'll fuck you properly, and make sure you have something to remember next time I have to go somewhere, yeah?" His voice is breathy by the end of the sentence, and if you listen closely, you can hear the telltale sound of slick skin against skin.

"Because, baby, I'm sure millions of people want me right now, but you are the only one who gets to have me."

Your phone pings with an alert, and you quickly put the phone on speaker so you can look at it and hear him, one hand already pressing between your legs.

It's a photo, just like he promised.

Chan is lying on the bed, wearing nothing but that fucking white tank top, shoulders glistening with sweat. His cock is hard and flushed and perfect, and you feel your mouth watering as your fingers push fully inside yourself.

"You're the only one who can make me this hard," He whispers, voice brimming with barely restrained pleasure, "The only one who can make me cum, just from the thought of your fingers buried inside yourself, so desperate for me that you can't think of anything else."

You whine, writhing on the bedsheets, and you realize with a breathless moan that you're already getting close.

"Chan," You sob, gasping, and he just laughs at you again, hitching into a moan that makes your toes curl.

"That's it, baby. Come- come undone for me." He moans and growls, and you can hear the slick sounds speed up, "Want you to cum on your fingers, but know that it's not enough, not what you need."

Your back pulls up off of the bed, chest heaving, fingers moving hard and fast, like Chan would if he was here. But just like he said, it's not enough. Chan is thicker than your hands could ever be, hotter than any toy, and a distant memory of him inside you, pulsing and hot and moaning into your ear makes a scream build in your throat.

"Chan, Chan- Please, Please, I need it, need you-"

Chan moans on the line, and he sounds just as wrecked as you feel. "I know, baby, I know. Come undone for me, sweetheart, and I promise, I'll be there soon to give you what you really need."

Tears cling to your eyelashes as you push harder, deeper, dropping the phone onto the sheets to push another hand over your clit, tight circles, and you can't help but think of Chan like this, his thumb circling you, urging you over the edge of a cliff—

"Chan, Chan, Chan!" You shriek as your self control snaps, thighs snapping around your wrists and quivering, throat nearly raw from the noises that follow as you come fully and completely undone for him.

"Yes, that's it, baby, yes-" Chan's voice pitches up and you listen, dazed, as he groans through his own orgasm, and he sounds so perfect that you clench down around nothing again.

Chan comes down faster than you do, whispering soft reassurances as you shake through the aftershocks. You drink some water and clean yourself up a bit, but that's all you can really manage.

"Rest, baby. I'll be back home soon, I promise." Chan whispers, sweet and gentle. Your eyes are fluttering closed as he speaks, but you mutter, "Love you," Before sleep fully drags you into it's hold.

"I love you too, sweetheart."

#stray kids #skz smut #skz #bang chan #bang chan x reader #skz x reader #dahlia writes #i should probably change that tag atp but who cares honestly

[prettyboykatsuki]

don’t hold it | m. fushiguro

★ tags ;; 18+, piss, dubcon-ish(consent is implicit but he is tipsy), alcohol, implied sub!megumi, humiliation and shame, a handjob, public-ish sex (they're in an alley), gn!reader, age gap / power imbalance, aged-up characters, tsundere!megumi

★ wc ;; 2.1k (GOODBYE!!!!)

★ a/n ;; i started writing this in nov of last year and it was only like 400 hundred words. how did this even happen. i dont even want to talk about it,

★ synopsis ;; your offer to megumi does bad things to his head. he really should never drink alone with you.

Megumi doesn’t like to drink often.

Partially because he’s well aware that drinking with you is a little dangerous. When he’s tipsy with his guard down, you tend to mess with him a little more than he likes. You always get off on teasing him. It’s in character for you to do so, to the point he's expecting it every time you hound him for a drink or two.

Aside from that, he doesn’t like not being in control of himself. Alcohol is good for people like Yuuji or Nobara who like getting loose. Their personalities aren't reserved to begin with so the extent to which they can humiliate themselves is limited. But Megumis always been reserved at best. He likes to keep quiet, make sure no one is paying too much attention to him and be in his own space.

So, his decision to go drinking tonight wasn’t really his. It’s Yuujis birthday and after some light-hearted accusation about being a bad friend, he was eventually convinced to go. Begrudgingly, he tells him that he’ll be in attendance. He only finds out you’re going after the fact - likely a purposeful decision on his best friends behalf.

His relationship to you is complicated. You’re three years his senior and above him in pay grade, so he’s supposed to be a respectful junior to you. It's not that Megumi doesn't respect you, you're good enough at your job that you've earned some bare minimum respect.

He address you with the correct honorifics and looks to you for advice and critique on his own moves. You two have similar curse techniques so it's a pretty natural thing.

Really, if it wasn't for your need to pick on him - Megumi can't find any faults with your character. Objectively he knows that. You're a little bit all over the place but you're a good senior to have. But he's really a little wary of you no matter what anyone says. You've given him plenty of reason to be.

Megumi can't answer whether or not he likes you. He thinks he does, but the way you always manage to make him squirm is not an entirely pleasant experience. He doesn't know how to react to your cheeky flirty other than flat-out rejection. You know that he's not really rejecting you though, that his prickly engagement is just a sign of tolerance. Maybe even enjoyment, and your ability to see through that always makes him feel a little dizzy.

So, he avoids you. He hasn't been able to unpack that and he doesn't plan too any time soon.

He's managed to make it outside for a breath of fresh air, scurrying away from you before you finished making greetings. You always sit next to him at outings, and now that he's officially tipsy - he can't imagine it going well.

He leans on a wall. The cold night air makes a wave of goosebumps appear on his skin. He's never been to this bar before so he doesn't have any idea where the bathroom is. It's a little crude but he thought maybe he could find a patch of grass and go out there.

A familiar voice breaks him out of his train of thought.

"Woah, Fushiguro," You peek your head out of the door before popping in "What are you doing out here?"

Of course you would show up when he's explicitly trying to avoid you. He sighs.

"I'm trying to get away from all the noisy people inside." He says flatly, looking away.

You step outside and trot next to him, hands in your pockets. Flashing him a smile, you laugh softly.

"Aw, you're talking about me, aren't you? Not nice."

Your scolding is faux sincere. Megumi fights a smile back like it'll cost him his life, sighing and purposefully turning away from you. Instead of taking the hint, you get up on your tip toes and hover over his shoulder.

"Whatcha looking at?"

"Nothing. Why are you out here?"

"So cold," You tut, before backing away "I came out here for a smoke break. You?"

He frowns.

"Quit smoking," He says first, rubbing his temple "I came out here cause I couldn't find the bathroom."

"Oh, so ya need to piss? Decided to take it to the great outdoors huh?"

His frown deepens, eyebrows and expression pinched in irritation.

"Stop being weird. If you know that, then smoke somewhere else."

An expression crosses your face that makes Megumi nervous. He can't count on his hands how many times he's seen. Right before you get on your antics, your eyes look darker than normal. You're unusually mischievous, a soft lilt to the way you speak - mouth twisted in a smirk.

"Don't wanna." You say cheerily, a pleasant expression "Are you tipsy, Fushiguro?"

"What's it to you?"

"I don't wanna harass a drunk person."

"So you know it's harassment," He says, annoyed. You shrug him.

"Mm, maybe? You never push me away, though. Always let me do what I please with you."

He doesn't have anything to say to that. A flush is creeping on his neck, warm and unpleasant and squirmy. He clicks his teeth and looks away, arms crossed over his chest.

"Why are you saying it like that? You're my superior so obviously it's an abuse of power on your end and not mine."

"You make me sound like a criminal, you know."

"You are one."

"So stubborn," You whistle, getting up close to him. An inch between you, no more - no less "You don't hate it do you?"

"You're so annoying."

"And you're so dishonest, Fushiguro." The sweetness in your voice doesn't disappear despite everything. Megumi covers his face with his hand, a bad habit.

"Shut up."

"Mhm, okay." You ease back just a little. Megumi dutifully ignores the thumping in his chest - heartbeat against his ribs. "Do you still need to go?"

He looks at you confused.

"Yeah?"

"I'll help you."

His eyes widen.

"What the hell are you saying?"

"You're tipsy, aren't you? What if you miss your aim and get it on your pants huh? And it's dark." You offer, flimsily "I'll hold it and help you aim."

He doesn't like that he twitches. He hates the way his body is reacting to you all at once - like a storm. The smell of alcohol on your breath and perfume, the warmth of your body, your proximity. Megumi feels so conscious of you, he can't stand it. Can't stand the way all the blood rushes south at the way you're basically asking to touch his dick.

"...You're out of your mind." He whispers, voice hushed and hoarse. Your smile flickers on your face.

"That a no? You can say no." You offer as a peaceful middle ground. A chance to back out, something you always do for him. It's part of the reason he has a hard time with you.

"...I d-don't...That's—What are you...?"

"Fushiguro," You practically purr, voice thick with lust. His body is so hot "Can I help you?"

"...Do whatever you want." He offers, unable to swallow his pride. You take it as permission, like he expected. A small part of him, deep down, is relieved that you didn't make him say yes. He doesn't want to unpack that yet.

Instead of saying anything else, you move towards the other end of the bar in an alley - further away from the door and out of the way of people. He follows you hesitantly. With your back against the wall, you look up at him. There's just enough light to make out your features, smug as always.

Your hands don't hesitate when the reach for the front of his pants. He can feel himself twitch, fighting an erect. He takes a deep breath, as your fingers fiddle with the zipper and button of his jeans.

He can feel his expression pinch again, strained jaw as your hands so easily touch him. His.. soft cock and him. It's vulnerable. He needs to go but you're humming to yourself as you pull down the front of his boxers.

"You're so pale," You muse, fingers tracing his navel - brushing against the hair he's left trimmed "You have a mole on your hip. How cute."

Every muscle in his body is tense trying to keep his head afloat. The tension is so thick, it makes him sick. You look pleased with yourself, perfectly calm but obviously excited. Megumi feels his forearms press against the wall as his knees nearly buckle.

"Still needa go, hm?" You say, pulling down his boxers until his cock is fully out. He's nearly hard, just barely there. You drag your finger down his length while it's soft and he chokes on air "You should do it on the wall, then. I'll get behind you,"

Megumi feels his body prickle with heat as you stand behind him, just as you promise. Your head pokes out from one side of him, while your hand slips underneath his thin sweater. Goosebumps appear all over his body, your fingers barely scrape his skin.

"You're so soft," You say warmly, hot breath on his spine "So pretty."

Megumi feels your hand reach in the front of his boxers and wrap around his shaft. Everything else goes blank other than the fact you're touching him, and your hands are soft and your voice is so quiet and so smooth. He can feel the erection he'd been trying to suppress hit him with full force as you squeeze his cock to your hearts content.

"You're getting hard." You note, if only to humiliate him slightly. "Are you pent up?"

"Please shut up." He nearly begs. You giggle.

"Okay, okay," You shift your hand a little, looking at the wall. You really intend to help him and not just ruin his day a bit. The realization unsettles him "Just let go when you're ready, 'kay?"

Every word he wants to say is escaping him. Humiliation and shame flood his entire body, sweeping over him in a tide. His body final releases at the sound of your words, as if on command. A warm sensation of relief overwhelms him, the sound of it hitting the concrete under him making his brain feel staticky.

He's so embarrassed he can't even open his eyes. He's so aware of what's happening he wants to crawl in his skin. Even more so at the feeling of your body behind him, your head pressed against his back - the little sigh you do as he releases. He's getting hard in your hand again - even harder than before.

"Feeling better?" Your voice comes out like a coo, condescending but full of adoration "You're almost completely hard. Did it feel good to let go?"

When the last of his stream stops, he finds himself mortified at how painfully turned on he is. Even more so by the feeling of your hand. You spit into your other hand, dripping the spit onto his cock quickly before the one already touching it gives it a hard stroke. He chokes out on a moan, a shiver crawling up his spine. His whole body is tingling, pressure forming in his skull. The knot in his stomach is wrapped tight, surely because of your fist in the loop.

"I-it's dirty." He chokes, forehead touching the wall in front of him. He can feel it in his stomach, shamelessly responding to your touch as you stroke his stiff cock. Was he always such a pervert?

"Then it's okay to get it more dirty," You say softly, pressing a kiss to his back "We can't go inside like this, can we?"

He's shaking hard, a whimper falling from his lips unintentionally. It feels so fucking good. Maybe it's the alcohol, or maybe it's the fact its your hand. The one he's been picturing for months and months, wrapped around his shaft and stroking him so slowly. The fact that you're in public - only a few feet away from the bustle of the city. This is special attention no doubt. He can't help but like it.

He doesn't know why he's so turned on that he's panting. He's not like this normally. He has more pride than that, but right now - he's bathed in shame and desire. All he can do is let your fist wrap around his cock like he's always wanted. Nothing else is viable.

"You're twitching." You inform, giggly "Will you cum for your senior, Fushiguro?"

"Fuck, fuck."

He cums into your fingers in a hot flash. You catch it all in your palms, just over the tip as his stomach clenches hard. A wave of euphoria leaves his whole body ragged, sobering him up completely as his erection finally settles again. He's so dazed from the experience, he hasn't moved an inch. Your voice startles him.

"You did well," You say pleasantly, removing your hand. He turns to face you. Pressing a kiss to his lips, you smile "Now, do you have a tissue?"

He shivers.

"Y-yeah," He says, reaching for his pocket "And call me Megumi."

#piss cw #writing tag #megumi x reader #megumi smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #i dont even wanna talk about it

[romeulusroy]

Dependence Pt. 5 (Roy!Sibling x Roy Family)

Alternatively Titled: We Ain't Angry At You Love, You're The Greatest Thing We Lost I am getting this lyric tattooed on my body I'm dead serious

Characters: Kendall, Roman, Shiv, Connor, Logan

Word Count: 1,879

Inspired By: You're Gonna Go Far by Noah Kahan

Tag List: @locke-writes

A/N: All I have is the snippet to listen to and it makes me sob every time. I'm thinking of moving 1k miles away from my family, from my home, from everything, and every bone in my body wishes they felt the way this song feels. Every nerve in my body wants them to feel this way. I hope they'll miss me that much. Anyways, it reminded me of Baby Roy and the Succession finale. Yes I did cry while writing, what about it lol!! Feedback is always appreciated!!! 💜💜💜

Dependence Pt. 1 / Dependence Pt. 2 / Dependence Pt. 3 / Dependence Pt. 4

Being The Youngest Roy Would Include: Pt. 1

Being The Youngest Roy Would Include: Pt. 2

You’re gonna go far, he says into you, his arms tight around you. You try to stop yourself from crying. Again. Sniffling into him, into his shoulder. Everything about this moment makes you want to turn around. To call the whole thing off. But then, how can you call off an entire lifetime? Your bags linger at your feet, everything you could fit into two suitcases. You didn’t start out like this, the day didn’t start out like this, but as it progressed, as things fell into place, you realized there was no place for you. In their lives, of course. Connor promised you your old room again, if you ever wanted to visit. But this place, this apartment, this city, it wasn’t yours anymore. It wasn’t home. You’re not sure it ever was to begin with. You remember to call me when you land, okay? An,whenever you need someone to talk to, I’m always here. He has this shake in his voice, the kind that tells you he’s doing his very best to keep himself together. Composed. You can’t say anything, the words getting caught in your throat. Instead you just nod, sobbing into his sweater. He holds you tighter, rubbing your back. When he stops, he cups your face, meeting your teary eyes, wiping your cheeks. Pops would be so proud of you. He wouldn’t. He never was. But at some point you have to stop chasing something that never existed, something you can never have. You smile for Connor’s sake. Maybe he really believes it. Maybe he’s just saying it. Either way, you’re glad you went to him. You’re glad you told him. You’re gonna so far, you have no idea. He sighs, as if the words have been sitting on his chest for a long time. As if this is the first time in your life he’s felt real, genuine relief. You want to be held a little longer. You want to be loved the only way a father, a father by choice rather than blood, could ever love their child. Without conditions, without restraints, without a ceiling or a floor. Infinite. Beautiful. You’ll have to let go eventually, part ways, but for now he holds you like he did when you were an infant. Never could he have imagined the life you’d live. It was a fantastic surprise. You were a fantastic surprise. 

You continue to awe him every single day. 

You catch him at the bar, nursing a martini. Your hands begin to shake, but you settle them at your side, sitting beside him. You can do this. He wasn’t expecting you, sliding his drink away from you. You’re okay, you’ll be okay. You can be around it, you have to in order to say goodbye. He notices the luggage before you have the chance to say anything. Going somewhere? You bite your inner cheek. Yes, actually. He turns to you. His stitches have opened, the wound bright and red. Angry. You try to read his expression. There’s a hint of fear. He saw you in that bed, screaming, crying, begging not to be alive anymore. You knew he meant it out of love, but you couldn’t face it anymore. You couldn’t be looked at like that anymore. If you wanted a fresh start, a real one, you had to get away. You had to find somewhere with people who saw you for you, not your mistakes, not your darkest moments. Somewhere inside him, he understood that. Somewhere inside him, he wanted the same thing. Leaving for him wasn’t an option, though. Is that so? What does Mummy think about that? He sips his drink. You don’t want to roll your eyes at him. You don’t want to be annoyed with him. You’re not sure how long it’ll be before you’ll see him again. I, I didn’t tell her. I’m not telling her. He lets your answer settle for a moment. You’re not sure what he’s thinking. You never have been sure. Roman could be so unreadable, so unpredictable. You keep talking, trying to fill the silence, a lump developing in your throat. You’re speaking so fast, almost hysterical. You have to explain yourself. You have to explain yourself or you’ll die. I have to get away. I’m not sure for how long, I just, I can’t be here anymore. I have to stay sober and I can’t do that here. It’s not because of you, because of any of you, I want you to know that. I’m, I’m sorry if that upsets you or makes you ang- But he interrupts you, leaning over, hugging you. Not as tight as Connor. It’s as if he’s afraid to touch you still, afraid to hurt you. Gentle. You feel his muscles tense then relax. Whatever you gotta do, you do. Just don’t scare me like that again. You promise him it will never happen again. 

It won’t. It doesn’t. The hurt from home doesn’t follow you, wherever you go. 

You can’t reach the other two. You try calling, the deja vu twisting your stomach. The last time you tried to reach them, the last time. . . No. Stop it. This isn’t that. You’re better now. Shiv picks up, waiting for you to talk. You don’t care what happened. You don’t care what went down in that boardroom. You don’t care that he’s CEO now, that you lost. She’s your sister. The same sister that comforted you after nightmares, who iced your bruises, who wanted the best for you from day one. Whatever happened couldn’t change that. She gave you so many chances, time after time, and you let her down. You let everyone down. She still cares, she always would. You would, too. The words come up, out, before you can stop them. How much you love her, how much you’re going to miss her, how badly you need this, how much you wish you could be with her right now. You hear her take a sharp inhale in, a shudder in her voice. I’ll come and visit, yeah? Wherever you end up, I’ll be there, okay? You nod. Yeah, yeah of course. You can feel your eyes well up again. She was your big sister, the only maternal figure you’d ever known. It wasn’t your mother who shushed you to sleep at night, holding you close. It wasn’t your mother who gasped at the bruises you gave yourself in a fit of rage. It wasn’t your mother who climbed into that hospital bed with you when you were sick and scared and didn’t want to fall asleep alone. It was Shiv. You're Shivy. Your sister. Do you have everything packed? Always fretting, always worrying. Yes, Mom. You laugh. You know she’ll be a good mother. Maybe she doesn’t think so, maybe Tom doesn’t, but you do. She took care of you your whole life. She’s still trying to. You um, you have your chargers? Extra socks? Do you need me to- I’ll be okay, you interrupt. You’re both quiet for a moment, taking one another in. You can feel her wanting. Wanting to reach through the phone and kiss your cheek, to hold you so close your hearts beat at the same time. Wanting to keep you there forever, not wanting to let go.

She always knew this day would come, though. You’d always had big plans. You could never be confined like the rest of them. 

You couldn’t reach Kendall. It went straight to voicemail. So you sat in the lobby of Waystar, trying to figure out exactly how to put it. Every thought in your mind, every thank you and I’m sorry and forgive me and I forgive you. Everything that’s ever sat between you two into a compact, meaningful message. You didn’t want to worry him, that was the last time you wanted, for any of them. You sat and watched everyone pass by. They were celebrating the new owner, one of the biggest deals they’d ever made. Some on their way to get drunk, others drunk already. Too much champagne. Finally, after a long time, you called again, listening to his voice play the message. Kendall, it’s me, you start. What next? You’re sorry. You’re sorry for putting them through all that you’ve put them through. The alcohol, the drugs, all those scary nights where they didn’t know where you were, if you were okay. All those nights where you weren’t sure where you were, if you’d make it out. You were sorry for calling him that night, for putting the blame on him if anything happened. You were sorry for blaming him. For not being the baby sibling he deserved. He deserved better, he expected better. I’m uh, I’ll be out of town for a while. You forgave him. You forgave him for all those outbursts, all those times he hurt you and Shiv and Con and especially Rome. You forgave him for turning into your father, the man you despised, the man you feared, the man you loved. I’ll be okay. I won’t, I’m not, I’m clean. I’ll stay that way. You loved him. You loved him despite the fear, despite the outbursts, despite the narrow path he chose to take. You loved him, and love him, because he’s your brother. He begged for you to stay awake, stay conscious. He wanted you to live even when you didn’t. That night, he looked like a ghost. I’m gonna miss you. A lot. Thank you for taking care of me, for loving me, for being there, you want to say. Thank you for being the best brother you could given the circumstances. Thank you for protecting me from him, from everyone. Call me when you can. I love you. Bye. 

This isn’t some magic answer to your sobriety. This isn’t a cure. Hell, it might be you running away again. Who knows? But you can feel it, finally. The anger, the rage, the wrath. That burden starts to feel less heavy day by day. It won’t disappear completely. You’re a Roy, it’s in your blood, in your genes. But it gets easier to carry, to hold, to take with you everywhere. You don’t want to cave in, not as much. Sure, a strong drink would help, but you made promises. You made promises you’d like to keep. Promises to yourself and to your family. You’d call Connor when you landed, wherever that is. You’ll tell Shivy, too, so she can come and visit. You’ll check in with Rome and give Kendall another call. Hopefully this time he picks up. Hopefully this time you can have a real conversation, you can talk to him, really thank him for all that he’s done. But you know your place is not here. Your people are, they always will. That mausoleum will be waiting for you like it waits for them. Eternity you’ll get to spend by their sides. Now though, now you have the choice. The choice to get better. The choice to get away. The choice to be free. You’ll see them again, you always will. They’re your brothers, your sister, the people who raised you. You’ll see them again despite the distance.

They can’t get rid of you that easily.

#writing #connor roy #connor roy imagine #connor roy x reader #kendall roy #kendall roy imagine #kendall roy x reader #shiv roy #shiv roy imagine #shiv roy x reader #roman roy #roman roy imagine #roman roy x reader #succession #succession imagine #succession x reader

[fragileheartbeats]

Celestyr/Targaryen relationship

This is how I imagine their relationship:

Targaryen: 'I hate everyone!'

Celestyr: 'Well, that's your problem. I love everyone, except for you.'

Targaryen: *glares*

Celestyr: *smiling* What are you looking at?

Targaryen: *grumbling* Your annoying face.

Celestyr: *still smiling* Aw, you think I'm annoying. That's so sweet.

Targaryen: : *yelling and throwing things*

Celestyr: *calmly picks up the things he threw and hands it back to him*

Other houses: Fight! Fight! Fight!

Celestyr: Seriously, can we just talk this out?

Targaryen: No way, I want to see some blood!

Other houses: *collective groan*

Celestyr: Let's just agree to disagree.

Targaryen: No, I will NOT agree to disagree!

Celestyr: 'I'm so relaxed, I can't even remember what anger feels like.'

Targaryen: 'I could remind you real quick.'

Targaryen: *trying to intimidate Celestyr*

Celestyr: *unaffected* 'I've seen scarier things in my Cheerios.'

Celestyr: *scrolling through his phone*

Targaryen: 'What are you always doing on your phone?'

Celestyr: 'Researching how to stay calm without stabbing a bitch.'

Targaryen: *trying to come up with a comeback*

Celestyr: 'Don't hurt yourself, I'm sure you'll come up with something eventually.'

Celestyr: *casually doing nothing*

Targaryen: 'Do you ever do anything productive?'

Celestyr: 'I'm being productive right now, I'm relaxing.'

Targaryen: *shouting in anger*

Celestyr: 'Is that your inside voice or your outside voice?'

Targaryen: *trying to punch Celestyr*

Celestyr: *sitting on the couch* 'Nice try, but you swing like a toddler.'

Targaryen: *throwing a chair* 'I can't stand you!'

Celestyr: *catching the chair* 'And I can't stand, lazy people problem.'

Celestyr: *watching TV* 'Hey, can you pass me that remote?'

Targaryen: *throws the remote at him* 'Here, take it!'

Celestyr: *casually walking away*

Targaryen: *running after him* Get back here, you coward!

Celestyr: *smiling* Nope, gotta stay true to my name. Peace out.

Targaryen: I hate everything about you.

Celestyr: *smiling* For someone who hates me, you sure spend a lot of time with me.

Celestyr: *watching a movie*

Targaryen: *yelling* Change the channel! I don't want to watch that crap.

Celestyr: *changes the channel to the same movie* There, problem solved.

Celestyr: *listening to music*

Targaryen: *turns off the music* I hate your taste in music.

Celestyr: And I hate your face. Yet here we are.

Targaryen: *fuming* 'I hate when he's right.'

Celestyr: *smiling* 'But you love me, right?'

Celestyr: 'I'm just gonna take a quick nap, wake me up when you're done screaming.'

Targaryen: *throws a pillow at him*

Targaryen: 'Why are you always so chill? Don't you have any emotions?'

Celestyr: 'I have emotions, they're just on vacation.'

Celestyr: 'I have no enemies, only friends I haven't met yet.'

Targaryen: 'I have enemies, and sometimes they're my friends.'

Celestyr: *bombastic side eye, criminal offensive side eye*

Celestyr: 'Why are you yelling?'

Targaryen: 'Because I have valid thoughts and important points to make.'

Celestyr: 'Okay, madman.'

Targaryen: 'Can you stop being so calm and happy all the time?'

Celestyr: 'Not my fault your anger ruins everything.'

Celestyr: 'I can't believe people pay for anger management classes.'

Targaryen: 'I can't believe people pay for yoga classes.'

House Celestyr tag list: @emily2003alzaga @nash-dara @altaircc @heavenly1927 @omgsuperstarg @asoiafhyperfixation

#house celestyr #house targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #house of dragon oc #house of dragons #hotd #hotd oc #hotd x reader #fantasy #writing #story #novel #game of thrones oc #game of thrones #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #daemon targaryen #a song of ice and fire #song of ice and fire

[otomes-and-tears]

JUST SAW UR SOULMATE WRITINGS AND I-- XKDNXKNSKXNDJX AAAAAAA

Can I request the 'character A sees the world grey until they meet their soulmate,character B' with Qiu and Tamarack from OL2?? In step 1,since that's when we meet them and with GN Reader?? With extra fluff if you could??

You can even add other steps or headcanons and such if you want! THIS IDEA INSPIRED ME SM THANKS FOR WRITING IT /gen 💕

♦ You can only see grey until you meet your soulmate for the first time with Qiu and Tamarack♦

► tags and warnings: Soulmate! Au

► words: 1103

► A/N: I usually only write headcanons when people ask me for multiple characters in one request, but I love soulmate Aus so much I made an exception and wrote these as one-shots. I'm so, so happy that my original one-shoot inspired you, anon! It's the best possible compliment I could ever get as a writer. I hope you like these as much as the original!

► Masterlist

Tamarack

Well, Tamarack was never one to care about things she couldn’t see.

There were far more important to worry about, like waking up early enough to be able to explore the forest and finding the prettiest rocks and leaves to gift to her omi and opa. It just didn’t make sense to worry about not being able to see colour, because all she knew was life without it, and the world was plenty beautiful already!

She still had her favourite shades of grey— the one that her omi told corresponded to the colour pink, the lively yellow and deep red. All of them were special in their own way, even if people who were able to see colour would say they all looked too alike, and she’d fervently insist that they were quite different.

People who saw colour just lacked imagination. That’s what her grandmother had told her once, with a kind smile stretched on her lips. They had grown so used to seeing the world that way that they lost the ability to see the nuances in different hues of grey. Sometimes, you have to lose something to gain another.

Well, if that’s how things were, Tamarack didn’t know if she’d ever want to see colour. 

It seemed awful to lose the ability to see beauty in how she has always seen the world. To stop appreciating how pretty the autumn leaves were when they changed shades, to stop being able to tell the difference between the cool grey of a bright summer’s day to the cool greys of a stormy afternoon.

But things were always bound to change.

Tamarack had woken up that day, feeling like that day would be special in some way.

Maybe because all days so far had been special— Moving so far away had its drawbacks, but getting to spend so much time playing in the forest had proven to be as fun as she’d hoped for.

It was still relatively early in the day when she saw a piece of cottony cream paper lying on the floor. She picked it up, hoping to help mother earth by cleaning the litter away when she saw a kid standing in the distance.

Locating her target, Tamarack quickly folded the piece of paper into a paper aeroplane and threw it at the target, her perfect aim hitting her victim.

She was able to escape in time, trying not to giggle too loudly so as to not attract too much attention to herself yet. Something told her she would see that kid again, and when she did, she hoped she could at least be able to surprise them!

It ended up not taking as long as she had expected for them to find her— and before they could, Tamarack hid underneath a pile of grey leaves, jumping out as soon as she heard the sound of her footsteps approaching her.

She closes her eyes for a moment, smiling and giggling due to a plan well-crafted, opening her eyes to a whole different world.

The leaves that fluttered around her were different from before, reds and oranges almost causing sensory overload now that they weren’t hidden behind greyscale.

She missed the way the world had looked before, but by staring at the forest with wonder, she realised that this change, maybe, wouldn’t be too bad at all.

Just like moving away had given her the opportunity to have fun in the forest every day, seeing colour allowed her to experience the world in an entirely different way. 

And, looking at the kid who looked at her in amazement, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling, she’d have someone new she could experience all of that with.

Qiu

Qiu really wanted to find his soulmate.

He liked getting to know other people. Meeting new kids, making friends and learning all he could about them. 

But there was always something special about the idea of getting to know your soulmate. The idea that you’re cosmically bound to one another, that there is someone out there meant to fit just perfectly with him. That his boring, monotonous world would fill with life and colour, and he’d gain a companion for life, someone he’d love and cherish just as much as his parents did with each other.

There is no telling when you get to meet your soulmate— some people were lucky enough to know them when they’re little, and people who don’t get to meet theirs until they’re old and wrinkly, So Qiu makes sure to get to know as many people as possible to cover all his bases.

It didn’t really work so far, but Qiu wasn’t really disappointed. 

His exploits led to him making lots of new friends. Kids now looked up to him, they liked him, and Qiu liked making them happy! And his mother made sure to reassure him that he would meet his soulmate when the time was right, and it would be just as wonderful as he’d imagined it.

For the time being, he was stuck in a greyscale world, left only to wonder how different things would be when he could see colour.

Sometimes his pursuits seemed a little hopeless, whoever. It didn’t really matter how patient he tried to be, Golden grove was a small and quiet town, and not a lot of new people ever showed up there.

Maybe that’s why the new neighbours intrigued him so much.

A kid his age. Someone he had never met in a town where everyone knew everyone.

Something stirred in his chest when Qiu heard their name. Something about it just seemed right, fitting.

He tried not to get too hopeful, but it was hard not to when all his instincts seemed to scream that yes, that was the person he was looking for.

Well… Even with all his excitement, Qiu still managed to forget about MC’s impending arrival.

It was something he pushed to the back of his mind after filling his day with his usual activities— talking to people in town and playing in his secret hideout.

It was when he heard a strange sound.

Someone was trying to climb his playhouse.

He stood up and looked down at the intruder, greys melting into colours he had never seen before as soon as they locked eyes.

For a moment, neither said anything. Too overwhelmed to manage to utter a word.

As much as Qiu had thought about that moment, it’s like, for the first time in his life, he was left speechless.

“You’re so pretty.”

Mc blurted out, and Qiu knew he had nothing to worry about.

#our life 2 #our life now and forever #olnf #olnf hcs #tamarack baumann #qiu lin #our life tamarack #our life qiu #bee’s writing

[spidercookie18]

𝕋𝕃𝔹 𝔾𝕠 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕄𝕆𝕍𝕀𝔼𝕊!

I realized; while rewatching some spooky movies, that TLB would/could have watched some of the ones I like. So, while i was watching the movie, I wrote what I imagined the boys would say. You can rewatch the movie along with the post if you don't remember some scenes so well, but there is a bit of explanation for the scenes in italics.

Anywho, here's TLB watching Creepshow (1982)

Word Count: 3k ish Tags: General violence, swearing, mentions of drinking, smoking, sa, gore, death, bugs - it get's kinda itchy at the end

Marko was dying to come watch this new horror movie, Dwayne was already an avid Stephen King reader at this time, and David thought it looked relatively interesting, so off to the movies they went. Paul just went because he wanted skittles and popcorn.

They went opening day. Got their snacks and went to find some seats.

They sat in the middle of the back row, the order was Paul on the left, Marko, then Dwayne, and David on the right. They are the kind of people to talk through the entire movie; so, if it helps, you can imagine them speaking through their bond.

Opening Scene:

Marko: Pssst, Dwayne pass the popcorn.

Dwayne: I don’t have it, ask Paul.

Paul: Nah man, I have my candy. And its only MINE tonight

David: Marko, here’s the popcorn, but I want it BACK. *Reaches over Dwayne who shifts uncomfortably away from David’s arm*

Marko: Cheers man.

Paul: Dude, stop saying that.

Marko: But I like it :(

*House comes into frame*

Dwayne: Hey, like that pumpkin

Paul: Hey, we should make pumpkins.

Marko: I’ve been saying this!

David: Dude that dad is a dick.

Dwayne: Who does that remind you of

David: We should egg his house before we go home.

Paul: Ayeee sex books *high fives Marko*

David: Damn, all that over a book?

“All that horror crap-Dead people coming back to life?”

Paul: Hey, dead people can come back to life.

*Creep comes into frame*

Marko: Woaaah, someone needs to moisturize.

Dwayne: Thank fuck we don’t have to worry about the Sun anymore.

David: Marko, popcorn

Story One: Father’s Day

*Well-dressed people come into frame*

Dwayne: Get a load of these assholes.

David: Fuck, I want a cigarette now.

Marko: Who eats like that?

Paul: *chewing with his mouth open*

Marko, Dwayne, David: *stare at Paul* Gee, who knows.

“Wasn’t she the one who killed her father?”

Dwayne: Honestly, same

“When he was 184, he had a stroke.”

Paul: Hey, David, aren’t you coming up on 184?

David: Ahaha, fuck you *chucks popcorn at him*

“She based her father’s head in with a marble ash tray.”

David: Dude, I need that ash tray.

Marko: I’da killed his ass too if he shot my husband *rubs Paul’s arm*

Paul: *Is turning the box of candy into his mouth, feels Markos hand on his arm. Looks down and smiles with a mouth full of candy*

*A driver speeding down the road comes into frame*

Dwayne: Damn, that old broad likes to speed.

“I need my caaaakeeee you dirty bitch.”

David: Fuck your cake buddy, your old ass needs a dirt nap, eh?

Marko: Get his ass.

Paul: *chomp chomp chomp*

Dwayne: She didn’t even bash his head in, he just got hit one time… I’ll show you how to bash a head in… *grumbles*

David: Easy big guy, we’ll go fuck with Max later.

“Everything I wanted he wanted for me!”

Marko: *mockingly in a bad British accent* Chew bich, chew dorty bich

*The dead come back*

Paul: Guys! Jim bean is the elixir of life.

David: This fucking guy still wants that damn cake?!

*Dancing couple*

Marko: Awe, Paul, we should dance.

Paul: *waggling his arms around trying to Vogue* You like my moves?

Dwayne, David: *start copying Paul and wiggling their arms around in bad dance moves*

*Cemetery scene*

David: Dude, what the fuck are you doing out there, eh?

Dwayne: *leans to David’s ear* Your Canadian is showing.

David: Oh, fuck off… I need a cigarette.

Paul: Hey, that headstone is falling…. No seriously dude its falling…

Marko: Is he not gonna move??

Dwayne: Dude!

Marko: The dead zombie guy is the least of your worries you gotta move!

*CRUSH*

Paul: Ope… too late.

David: *Grumbling about his cigarettes*

“He’s your husband, I don’t even like him.”

Dwayne: Catty *chuckles*

Paul: Yooo, I think the maid is dead.

Marko: He’s still on about that fucking cake.

*In the parlor*

Marko: You think I could pull off the two chains look?

Dwayne: Honestly?

Paul: Marko, he can’t even- wooaaaah.

David: Ayeee he finally got his cake.

TLB: *halfheartedly applaud*

Story Two: The Lonesome Death of Jordy Verrill

*Jordy comes into frame*

Marko: Woah! David, he looks like you!

David: Shut the hell up, my teeth aren’t that big.

Paul: *snickering* No, they are.

David: *growls*

Dwayne: *Grabs David’s chin and wiggles his head side to side* Oh come on, it’s cute.

David: *sneers at him and pulls his head away. *

“Dat’s a meteor”

Marko: *mockingly* dats a meteor

“200 for dat dere meteor”

Dwayne: Dude, ask for more money.

David: Aren’t you a communist?

Dwayne: …shut up.

Marko: *mockingly* idjits

*Jody getting water from the well, sticks his fingertips in his mouth*

Paul: Ew, those things were in his mouth.

David: Yeah, that can’t be good.

*Jody dumping out the meteor juice*

Paul: Hey, what do you think they used for the glowey stuff?

David, Dwayne: Glow sticks

Paul: But it hissed when it touched the ground.

David: *chewing popcorn* They add the sounds after they film it.

Paul: Oh… Hey we should get glow sticks.

Dwayne: If you’re good, we can get glow sticks.

Paul: YUS

“Meteor shit!”

Marko: *giggling* oh this guy is gold!

*Meteor plants start growing outside*

Dwayne: Oh damn, he’s still sucking on his fingers.

David: Well, he obviously isn’t very smart, now is he Dwayne.

Dwayne: *stares at David* Don’t start with me.

David: *snorts *

*Doctor scene*

David: I don’t trust that doctor…

Dwayne: *with his fingers waggling in David’s face; making a voice* It’s going to be extreeeemely painfuuullllll

David: Shut up, dork.

Dwayne: You’re the dork.

*Plants growing all over Jordy’s body*

Paul: Hey, you think that thing can grow weed?

Marko: Paul, you idiot. It’s killin him.

Paul: Well, I know that! But, like… it looks sticky.

*Jordy goes outside*

Marko: Wow, that got everywhere fast.

Paul: Yeah, that might be too much weed.

David: Never thought you’d say that.

*Jordy pulls out a bottle and a pitcher*

Dwayne: Woah, that’s too much vodka…

Paul: Buddy’s gonna die.

Marko: I think he’s already dying.

David: Oh, I’m gonna need a drink if you guys keep talking.

Marko: Cheers

“I’m growin”

Paul: Me too Jordy, me too *eats some skittles*

*TV tone*

David: Fuck, I’m so glad we don’t have a tv in the cave.

*Shows Jordy’s house covered in green*

Marko: *eating popcorn* we should do that to Max’s house.

David, Paul, Dwayne: Agreed

*Jordy, checks his pants*

Dwayne: Is it on his dick!

Marko: *clutches his jewels*

David: Oh, that’s gotta suck.

*Jordy gets into the tub*

Marko: I wouldn’ta done that.

Paul: Yeah. That’s horror movies 101.

*Jordy pulls out shotgun*

Dwayne: Woaaah, dude, it’s not that serious.

David: No, I’d do the same thing.

*BANG*

TLB: Ayeee *claps*

Marko: Cheers

Paul: Dude, fucking knock it off

Marko: Fucking make me >:[

Story Three: Something to Tide you over

*Nice apartment comes into frame*

David: Ugh, I hate that tile.

Paul: You would

“I can bench-press 300lbs.”

Marko: Pleeeease, that’s nothing

Paul: What a nerd

“We were gonna sit you down and tell you.”

Paul: Hey that guy is touching the tv! That’s not your tv!

“There will be no alimony, none of that crap.”

David: Alimony? That old guy used to bone that guys wife?

Dwayne: I think the guy in the robe is banging the old guy’s wife.

*Pulls out tape recorder*

Marko: I should get a tape recorder.

Dwayne: How many people are you torturing and kidnapping?

Marko: Mind your business.

David: If that guy threatened MY bitch… *starts growling*

Paul: Yeah, you tell em David! Don’t touch my bitch or my tv!

“She’s waiting for her knight in shining corduroy.”

David: Yeah, tell no one where you’re going, idiot.

Paul: Noooo, he killed his wife??

Marko: that’s an empty grave, for sure

“Jump into that hole.”

Dwayne: Fuck that, hit him.

David: Idiot hopped in

Paul: Maybe he’s got a plan.

Marko: His plan is to die.

“You’re not gonna burry me alive.”

David: *chewing popcorn* But you’re already in the hole ain’tcha bud?

Dwayne:

David: Don’t say it.

“I’ll let ya see Becky.”

Paul: I don’t believe him.

Marko: Gee, what made you think he wasn’t trustworthy?

*Crab*

Dwayne: *cracking up* Get his ass.

Paul: OMG! That’s a big crab!

Marko: HE KICKED IT!

David: *snickering*

*TV of the Becky*

Paul: Fuck, he buried her?

Dwayne: That’s a bit harsh.

Marko: I could get out of that.

David: No, you couldn’t

Marko: Yuh-huh

Dwayne: It’s packed, wet sand, you couldn’t get out of it.

Marko: Bet I could.

Paul: Uh-oh, tides comin

David: Marko, you would drown.

Marko: I bet you a week’s hunt that I could.

Dwayne: For the both of us

Marko: Yeah, sure, fine. If you win, I’ll do the hunting for both of ya for a week.

Dwayne: And on the very slim chance that you win?

Marko: You guys do my hunting for a month.

Paul: Oh no, the tv is getting wet.

Dwayne: Fine.

David: …how did he keep it running for so long, I thought it was hooked up to the Jeep…

*Interior, old guy’s house*

David: Ugh, I hate those statues.

Paul: I hate how this guy treats tv’s.

Marko: I hate that they haven’t gotten out of the sand yet.

Dwayne: I hate how stupid you are.

Marko: *Nips at Dwayne*

Dwayne: *wagging his finger in Marko’s face* You get one.

Marko: *grunts* David, gimmie the popcorn

David: *hands him the popcorn*

*Drowning scene*

Marko: Fuck, these people take forever to die.

*Interior, night scene*

Dwayne: Dun dun dun!

Marko: Man, they are getting seaweed on everything…

“I’m warning you; I have a gun!”

Paul: *yelps*

David: Geeze, Paulie, it’s a movie.

Paul: Not that. I dropped my skittles!

David: Why am I not surprised…

Marko: I knew this would happen, *reaches into his jacket* that’s why I got ya these *hands unopened skittles box to Paul.*

Paul: Oh man do I love ya.

*Shooting the drowned*

David: Ew,

Dwayne: Ya know, he should really have a guard.

Marko: Or a dog

Paul: We should get a dog.

David: *stretching his arms above his head* You’d never feed it.

Paul: But someone would

David: Yea, *pulls his shirt down over his tummy* I’d end up being the asshole to feed it.

Dwayne: Oh snap, they buried his ass *laughs*

Marko: That’s wicked

Paul: David pleaseeeee

David: The poor thing would die of neglect.

Paul: *pouts*

Marko: *pats his arm* it’s okay Paul, we’ll get you a dog.

Paul: really?

David: NO, YOU WONT

Paul: :(

Story Four: The Crate

*Janitor flipping a coin comes into frame*

Dwayne: 5 bucks he’s gonna drop it.

*CLANK, rolls*

Dwayne: ooooh! You owe me 5 bucks!

David: No one bet you, dork.

*Garden party*

Marko: Damn, that lady is so loud.

Paul: Math department???? *sneers*

David: I hate that dress.

Marko, Dwayne, Paul: You would

David: >:(

*Lady in red dress keeps talking*

Dwayne: Holy fuck, does this lady ever shut the hell up?

Paul: How, uncouth

Marko, Dwayne, David: *stare at Paul*

*Janitor on phone*

Dwayne: 1834?

David: Don’t say it.

Paul: *snickers*

Marko: Well, whatever’s in there should be long dead.

David: *sighs*

Marko: Like David

David: Fuckers

“Hey Wilma!” *BANG*

Paul: Oh damn!

Marko: Thank Christ

Dwayne: THEY’RE CLAPPING?

David: Oh please, you’d kill her in a heartbeat.

“It came from the Artic?”

Paul: Daavid, where’s the Artic?

David: *burping* Yukon

Paul: Oh, okay

Marko:

Marko: You have no idea where that is do y-

Paul: No, not a clue

“It’s like, something moved on its own.”

Marko: What do ya think is in there?

Dwayne: Snow devil

“That tobacco smell makes me want to Ralph” *strangle*

Dwayne: Damn, he wants to kill her so bad.

David: Welp, I can see where this is going *reaches into his pocket to pull out a flask*

Dwayne:

David: *takes a swig*

Dwayne: *pouty face*

David: Fine, but don’t tell the others.

Dwayne: *takes a quick swig*

*Opening the crate; chimp noises*

Paul: Aww, it’s a little monkey.

Marko: Paul, it’s probably not a monkey.

Dwayne: Don’t stick your hand in there.

David: DO stick your hand in there.

*CHOMP*

Marko: Yup, not a monkey

*Janitor slumps against crate*

David: I would movie from there

*Yeti face*

TLB: HOLY SHIT *they cling to eachother*

*Chomp chomp chomp*

Dwayne: great mask!

David: Fucking sick

Marko: Those teeth are so real!

Paul: Hold me Marko

*Yeti moving the crate in the basement*

David: Ope, what’s he up to

*Blood trails*

Paul: I’m getting hungry.

Dwayne: I bet the damn thing is too.

Marko: *munching popcorn* Shhh, eat your skittles.

David: Marko, munchies me *puts his hand out to Marko.

Marko: *dumps a fist full of popcorn in David’s hand, spilling all over Dwayne*

Dwayne: *dusting off his lap* fuckers!

*Grad student going under stairs*

David: *munching popcorn* Oh yeah, go under there.

Marko: Why’d you pick up the shoe like it’s gonna do anything?

*Yeti attacks; grad student hits it with wrench*

Dwayne: You shoulda hit that thing a lot harder.

Paul: Guys, I’m gettin hungry.

Marko: *shoving the popcorn bucket to Paul* We’ll eat later. Besides, Dwayne and David are doing my hunting for the next month.

Dwayne: We gotta burry your stupid lil ass first

Marko: IM GONNA DO IT!

*Guy with shitty wife going to university basement*

David: I don’t believe, for a second that someone shipped a man killing, blood thirsty yeti without telling anyone. There should be records or something.

Paul: *snorts* Okay, Mr. ‘I keep all my files since the 1800’s.’

Marko: I don’t believe anyone would be that stupid to go down there with a gun.

Dwayne: I do

*Watching the man clean up the blood*

Marko: That’s a good friend

Dwayne: That’s a bad co-worker

David: He assaults a girl and kills her and then tries to hide it?

Paul: Wait, is that what’s happening?

Dwayne: That’s what he thinks is happening.

David: Nah, he’s tryna lure his bitch wife there.

*Wilma driving over holding a glass*

Marko: This bitch got milk?

Dwayne: Where’d the fucking yeti go?

David: *jokingly* he’s shy *bats his eyelashes*

“What kind of a mess has Dex gotten himself into?”

David: *tittering*

“How bad did he beat her? Is she conscious?”

Marko: This bitch is sick.

“The girl is under the stairs; she won’t come out.”

TLB: *watching intently*

“DINNERTIMEEEE”

David: Maybe divorce woulda been easier *giggling*

Dwayne: At some point it shoulda been.

Paul: Is he trying to kill her?

Marko: Where the hell did that stupid yeti go?

“No good at all in bed, when was the last time you were a man in our bed?”

David: *snickering*Ruthless

Marko: Wow this thing can really sleep through an episode.

“Just tell it to call ya billy.”

David, Dwayne: *cracking tf up*

*Closing the crate*

Dwayne: I can’t believe this thing never broke out of a stupid wooden crate.

Paul: Where is he taking that thing?

Marko: Bet he’s gonna kill it.

David: He’s definitely gonna kill it.

Dwayne: I’d kill it.

Paul: WHY?

Marko: The hell do you mean ‘why’?

Paul: He was just hungry! Like us! You wouldn’t kill us!

David: *takes a swig* Sometimes, I think about it.

Dwayne: Let’s get a big crate to put Paul in

Paul: NOOOOOOOOO

Dwayne: Ah we’re just kidding Paulie * reaches behid Marko to punch Paul’s arm*

“That thing is drowned in its box 70ft down.”

David: It survived 150 years, no food, no water, no sunlight. Bet it’s not dead.

Marko: Oh, NOW he breaks out of the damn box.

Dwayne: The damn thing was just being lazy.

Paul:

Paul: You guys don’t actually think theres yetis do ya?

Marko, Dwayne, David:

David: That one really scared ya, eh?

Paul: Just a bit

Marko: We could kill a yeti no problem!

Dwayne: Yea, and then Marko would have something new n’ furry to tie to his bike haha!

Story Five: They’re Creeping Up on You

*Scientist and a jukebox come into frame*

Dwayne: Man, haven’t seen one of those in a while.

Paul: They were soo cool.

Marko: You think that vaccum thing could suck other stuff?

David: I DARE you to put your dick in that.

“There’s not gonna be anymore damn bugs!”

David: *eating the last popcorn in his hand* What the hell did bugs do ta him?  *snorts*

Marko: Thank God we’re never gonna go bald.

Dwayne: Max can’t say the same.

Paul: *snickers*

“They’re dying of carbon monoxide poisoning.”

Paul: Hey, David, what’s carbon monoxide?

David: Poison

Marko: THAT’S SUPPOSED TO BE AN APARTMENT?

Dwayne: Bet he’d have a stroke if he saw the cave.

Paul: Yeah, but we don’t have a ‘bug problem’

David: Not one that matters.

*Cockroach on his glove*

Paul: EW EW EW NAStYYYYY

Marko: SICK

Dwayne: Guess they’re not gonna put the ‘no animals were harmed in the making of this film’ at the end.

David: Oh, that’s seriously a bad roach problem.

“Yes, he told me your husband went out with a ‘bang.’”

Paul: This guy is a serious douche.

Marko: *winces* I feel bad for laughing.

“You can take your wife and kids to Disneyworld on your fucking welfare check.”

Dwayne: I’m gonna eat this guy.

*Checks the food processor*

Marko: Omg, he didn’t…

Dwayne: He did!

Paul: I’m gonna be sick *fake sobs*

David: Hey, I kinda like that trick

“You people, people of color”

Marko, Paul: Woah

Dwayne: Not shocked

David: I’ve never heard a black person talk like that in real life, why do they make them talk like that?

Dwayne: T’s Hollywood man, they’re super fucking racist.

*Roaches in the ceiling, drain, walls*

Dwayne: Hey now, this shit is starting to make me itch.

Marko: Tell me about it. I used to live in New York, it’s really fucking bad.

Paul: Maybe he should just move.

David: *takes a long swig*

Paul: *starts itching vigorously*

*In the clean room* “I hope you die.”

Dwayne, Marko: *shudders*

Paul: Oh gnarly! I’m gonna hurl.

David: *subtly itches his forearms*

“What’s the matter Mr. Pratt, bugs got your tongue?”

Paul: Oh, I’m not hungry anymore *gags*

Closing Scene:

*Garbage men come into frame*

TLB: *scratching*

“We can’t get a voodoo doll?”

TLB: *still itching and scratching*

*Voodoo Doll scene*

Marko: *scratching his thighs* good for him, he got the doll to work

Paul: *scratching his neck* Yeah, those things never worked, remember the one we got for Max

Dwayne: *scratching his arms* Actually, me n David got it to work

*Roll credits; the boys get up to leave*

Marko: Really? *Scratching his shoulders*

David: *scratching his stomach* Yeah, see the trick was to use both our magic, instead of one

Paul: *scratching the backs of his hands* So what did you guys do?

David: We set him on fire.

Marko: Ah

Marko: Hey, lets go burry me!

Dwayne: Anything to get those damn roaches out of my mind.

TLB: *shudder*

#the lost boys #tlb 1987 #the lost boys 1987 #tlb david #tlb marko #tlb paul #tlb dwayne #david the lost boys #marko the lost boys #paul the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys

[slytherinshua]

Can you pls do a f!reader forbidden love w Woonhak 🙏🙏🙏

SWEETHEART genre ➳ fluff. a bit of angst. friends to lovers. forbidden love. warnings ➳ mention of child abuse. crying. one kiss. pairing ➳ woonhak x fem!reader. wc ➳ 2.6k. a/n ➳ thank you for requesting!! this was a lot of fun to write. i took a lot of inspiration from the move when marnie was there, i'd also recommend listening to 'fine on the outside' from the ost of the movie since it'll add to the fic!

You winced as you heard your parents’ shouting getting louder from the sitting room. Your father had told you to be a good girl and stay in your room. You had wanted to go outside. My friend is waiting for me! You insisted, clutching your pink party dress in your small fists, filled with as much anger as an eight year old could hold. You had earned a harsh glare and a slap to your cheek for disobeying. 

You sat by your window, longing to go outside into the cool ocean breeze under the moonlight. Woonhak would wait until you came, you knew he would, but you itched to go out and play with him now. You were sick of waiting until your father gave you more instructions. He always kept you hidden away in your room. Your mother was gone most of the time, and your nanny felt more like a real mother to you than your biological mother ever could.

You didn’t love your nanny. She had no affection for you and was always stone cold and boring. She didn’t want to entertain you and you could tell she was tired of working at your house for your father. You were smart for an eight year old. People had told you were smarter than their teenagers many times. It was one of the things your small brain prided itself in. One of the only things you allowed yourself to be proud of. Your father was busy snuffing out all your pride every chance he got, though.

You couldn’t tell anyone how awful your isolated life was. All they saw were the extravagant parties and your expensive toys. They never realised how love-deprived you were. The only person who you could confide in was your friend, Woonhak.

He was the child of the sweet farmer couple that always sold the best jams at the farmers market. You liked to tag along whenever your nanny had to go shopping. That’s where you met him the first time. 

He was so different from you, and his life was so free. He could go out and wade in the ocean water whenever he wanted to, or go into the forest to catch butterflies. He could eat fresh strawberries grown in his own backyard and wouldn’t even get scolded for going outside past his bedtime. You envied his life and cherished any time that he would bring you along with him. He had adventures. You wanted to be by his side forever.

“Your mother will be arriving soon. I heard the Park family is arriving with her. I’m sure you’ll be seeing Yijoon again. Aren’t you excited?” You governess asked. She meant well, you knew she meant well. But any mention of Yijoon made you clench your fist into a tight ball, fingernails biting into the skin of your palm. You hated that boy.

You sat straight, shoulders back, chin up, no expression, just like how you had been taught your whole life. If your mother was coming back, that meant more parties. You’d have to be gracious to guests. You’d have to dance. You’d have to spend time with Yijoon. You hoped to God that your mother didn’t insist you kiss him again.

Your mother was practically obsessed with the thought of you and Yijoon being a couple. You were her daughter, so she could control your life however she wanted, including who you were supposed to like. Yijoon was an asshole, though. He was stuck up and rude and his good looks did nothing to hide his temper. He was just like your father, and you despised him.

You couldn’t imagine ever living with someone who was like the carbon copy of your father, especially the more you saw firsthand how your father got worse and worse over the years. His temper had heightened, his patience withered, and his expectations of you grew exponentially. You learned to hide and to ignore him, but he hated that you had grown into a smart, witty teenager who knew how to talk back… and who could now tell that his behaviour was abusive. 

When he had his friends over to get drunk, you stayed in your room. If he asked to see you, you always put on a smile and your best manners. There was less chance of angering him that way.

You sat on your bed after your talk with your governess about your mother and Yijoon. You were 16 now, and to your mother, that meant you were old enough to get engaged. Your brain went to Woonhak. It always went to Woonhak. If Yijoon was like a dark cloud in your life, Woonhak was like the sun. Yijoon was a devil with gruesome red horns. Woonhak was an angel with a halo. 

You clutched your sheets in your hand absentmindedly, frustrated at the thought of Yijoon coming back. You weren’t even that worried about how you would manage it. But you couldn’t bear to think about Woonhak seeing you with Yijoon. He would think you liked him. He would see you two dancing together and you forcing a smile and he would get the wrong impression. You couldn’t let that happen. You suddenly realised how much you liked Woonhak. You wanted to be with him romantically. 

God, you were so stupid. Your parents would never accept Woonhak. One look at them and you’d be scared at what insults they would say. His ratty clothes and muddy clothes from farming could never go hand-in-hand with your luxurious silk and jewellery. 

If your mother got you engaged to Yijoon, you wouldn’t be able to see Woonhak anymore. You didn’t like the thought of that. If you couldn’t be with Woonhak you needed to at least see him. You wouldn’t be able to bear your life without your best friend. He was the only thing that made you happy anymore.

You stood up from your bed and rushed downstairs, lacing up your boots as quickly as you could and running out of the house. You needed to tell him. You needed reassurance that he would stay in your life. That he wanted to stay in your life. 

Your first instinct was to check the beach, and you found him there easily. He heard you coming and looked up, giving you a bright smile. He always lit up your day. He was better than the sun. He was your happiness.

You ran straight into his arms, catching him off guard. The force of you running into him and wrapping your arms around his waist almost made him stumble, but he caught himself and steadied you both. You felt him hug you back, patting your back gently with a confused expression on his face.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” He asked worriedly. He couldn’t lie that he had always wanted to hug you, ever since he was little. You always looked like you needed one, but he was too shy to do it. Despite his heart soaring a little in his chest, he was concerned about you.

You hugged him a bit tighter, clutching his worn t-shirt from behind, burying your face in his chest. Your shoulders shook and soon the tears you had been holding back started to fall, racking your body with small sobs.

“H-hey… It’s okay. It’s okay, Y/n.” He whispered, continuing to stroke your back up and down in a comforting way until you calmed down. You pulled away slightly to sniff and wipe your tears. Woonhak reached forward to gently swipe the tears clinging onto your left cheek.

“What happened, sweetheart?” He asked you again, using the nickname he had always used for you since you were small. He thought it perfectly described you since you were the sweetest person he had ever met. The meaning had changed just a little over the years now that you were both 16 years old. He couldn’t lie that calling you that made him feel like he was yours. He wished you were his, but that would never happen, right? You’d never be able to be with someone like him. 

The nickname It made you smile a bit, cheeks tinting pink just slightly. Woonhak kept his hand on your cheek and you leaned into his touch, soaking up the comfort that it brought you.

“Miss Hwang told me that my mother is coming back. She… She’ll probably want to get me engaged.”

“What? Why?” He furrowed his eyebrows, confused as to why that would happen.

“She thinks I’m old enough… There’s this boy, Park Yijoon. She wants us to be together. And I don’t know if I have a choice. If that happens, I would probably move in with him.” You explained, voice strained.

“...What?” His voice shook slightly and then he started shaking his head desperately, “No, no… please. I don’t want to lose you. Please?”

“I don’t either. I wouldn’t be able to bear not seeing you, Woonhak. But…” You sighed and looked down at the sand. Woonhak had gathered some shells and arranged them. Seeing that tore you apart. He was too precious to abandon. It would kill you inside to leave him.

“But?” His voice was growing more anxious and his eyes were glossy with tears threatening to spill at any moment. You had never seen him cry before. You were always the one doing the crying. He was always the one comforting you. He was the only person who you could be yourself around.

“But I… I can’t say no to my mother. Woon, she has complete control over my life. God, if I could run away, I would. But I don’t have anywhere to go and what if she comes looking for me-” You choked in a sob, feeling entirely helpless about the situation.

“Why don’t you… come stay with me?” Woonhak suggested a bit shyly.

“What? Wouldn’t your parents-”

“Come on, my parents love you.” Woonhak pointed out, a smile starting to grow on his face at the thought. “And my father is a policeman. You know your parents could be charged with child abuse, right?”

You blinked. In your head you always knew they were abusive, but hearing Woonhak tell it to you plainly made you understand it so much clearer. “Oh. I want to ask your parents first. I wouldn’t want to encroach on their house uninvited… Can we ask them now?” You were starting to think that Woonhak’s suggestion just might be your way out. It sounded like a fairytale, but it might just be possible.

“Of course. Let’s go.” He smiled widely, cheeks turning upwards, eyes scrunching and you got so much joy just from his smile. He was perfect.

//

You packed your things that night. Your father was drinking in his study and you were careful to avoid him. You told Miss Hwang where you were going and that you would be fine. She couldn’t stop you and you knew your father wouldn’t care. He wanted you gone, anyway. If he didn’t have to think about where you were staying, it would be all the better for him.

You took one last look at your room. It held so many memories, so many memories you wished to forget. You filled one bag with your clothes and the other with your essentials. You smiled meekly at the party dresses hanging in your big closet. You would never be wearing them again.

You fiddled with the hem of a pretty satin pink one with a big bow on the sash. It used to be your favourite when you were little. You wanted to wear it everyday, even when there wasn’t a party. You wished you could take it with you, but it wouldn’t fit in your bags. Instead, you thanked the dress and said goodbye to it. It had always made you feel the prettiest in the room, giving you a boost of confidence, making you smile. You would miss wearing it.

“Thank you for being my safe spot.” You whispered to your room. You were scared of the change, but the relief you felt walking out your front doors was something you wouldn’t give up for anything. 

You met Woonhak halfway on the beach. He grinned at you and took the bags to carry like the gentleman he was. Every little action he did to show that he cared for you made your heartbeat a little faster in your chest. You suddenly felt the urge to tell him and to thank him, but you would wait until you were sure you were safe in your new home first.

Woonhak’s parents greeted you warmly and you all sat down at dinner like a proper family. It wasn’t anything extravagant. Just a simple sitdown meal on the floor. Homemade stew and rice. You loved it. 

Mr. Kim was fun to talk to. He made jokes and made you laugh. You could tell he was beyond proud of his son for offering to help you out. But it made sense. A policeman would want his son to do the right thing.

Mrs. Kim was as motherly as anyone you had met. She urged you to eat as much as you wanted and constantly told you how pretty you looked. You thanked her over and over again for making you feel so welcome, but she always said it was the least that she could do for a friend that Woonhak seemed to adore so much. The comment made you blush.

Woonhak’s heart soared seeing you smile and laugh all throughout the evening. You looked so beautiful when you were happy. It was a sight that he wanted to see as often as he could.

“Woonhak, you should help Y/n get settled in her new room. We’ll finish cleaning up.” Mrs. Kim said with a smile, urging her son to lead you upstairs.

“Thank you for doing this, Mr. and Mrs. Kim.” You said sincerely, bowing 90º to show your thanks. They laughed and told you that you didn’t have to be so formal. They considered you to be family now.

Woonhak grabbed your bags and led you up to your room. It had a big window like your old room did, overlooking the ocean. You immediately walked over to it and marvelled at the view. It was a full moon that night, and it shone so brightly over the waves. 

“I know it's not very big, but I hope you feel comfortable.” Woonhak said, smiling as he showed you the cosy room. It had a bed in the corner and a small dresser to complete it. It was small, but it was more than enough for you. 

“I love it, Woonhak. Thank you.” You looked at him as if he had given you the world, and to you, he really had. He had saved you.

You walked down to the beach hand-in-hand, swinging your interlocked fingers back and forth gently and stealing glances at the pretty boy who you loved so much whenever you could. You had never been happier in your entire life.

“Woon…” You blushed, calling his attention to yourself.

“Hm?” He looked at you as if you had stars in your eyes, completely and utterly mesmerised with you.

You didn’t say anything, you didn’t have to. You leaned in slowly until your lips just barely brushed against his, waiting for him to kiss you back first. And he did almost immediately, pulling you closer into a delicate kiss. His lips felt so soft and comforting. It felt perfect to have your first kiss with Woonhak be here, on the beach, under the moonlight. 

You were both blushing crazily when you pulled away. Woonhak rested his forehead against yours, smiling at you lovingly. You smiled back.

“That was perfect… You’re perfect, sweetheart.” He whispered.

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[hargrove]

「 HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!! I resurrected this blog at the end of 2023, but in these few months, this dash has given me more happiness than I could have imagined. honestly, I came back as a means of escape when I had a major loss in my family and just didn't want to deal with irl. and y'all have been so welcoming and so amazing, that I want to take this moment to hurl my love right in your faces!

@havvkinsqueen ➠ Victoria!!! I was so excited to learn that you were still bombing around on the dash since I last left. your heather was always a treat, but your Chrissy is such a delight and I'm so stoked to have her in Billy's life. you are an absolute gem, a POWERHOUSE of kindness and positivity. you exemplify everything the rp community should be. I type this wearing the bracelet you made for me, it gives me so much good vibes. I really am serious about running around in cosplay at a con with you this coming year. it'll be rad as hell! here's to a whole new year of crazy rp and irl shenanigans!

@zoomingupthathill ➠ I cannot describe the sheer joy I feel every time you're on my dash, Bee. from waaaaay back when I was writing Klaus and you were Katherine, to now in the ST fandom, you always leave me in awe. the love you have for your own muses is infectious and in turn, makes me love them and want the best for them. you know I don't really do exclusives, but I always considered your Max and my Billy a packaged deal. whatever your Max is going through, she can always count on my Billy to have her back. likewise, I am always there for you. you're an amazing talent and an even better friend. I look forward to a whole new year of sibling craziness, as well as other muse stuff. and good lord, CAN WE GET THIS GIRL A LUCAS??? (I'm trying my best to work on it, I am lol).

@thebabysittertm ➠ dude. friendo. bruh. stark. I don't even know where to begin. my favorite kind of rp is the slow burn stuff filled with lots of character development and headcanons and background stuff, etc. it's basically the hardest thing to find but somehow from the moment we started talking, it all just clicked. the details and thought you put into all of your muses is astounding. I adore the thought process you have in your muses' reasoning behind things. and your writing is out of this world! I feel so lucky that I get to bounce hc's and au's off you all day. all of our ideas and stuff makes me so excited and has fueled me to jump back into this hobby only 10 times harder. all your talent aside, you also an incredible friend who I'm so stoked to talk to every day. here's to a 2024 filled with our two idiots!

@malka-lisitsa ➠ how do I even begin to compliment the sheer amount of talent that exudes from you, November?? from muse development, to writing, to graphics, to server maintaining, to... I don't even know what else! seems like you can do it all! I can't lie, when I initially came back to the dash, I was shying away from any and all cross overs because I have so much anxiety in this community and wanted to keep my corner of the world super small. but your Katherine broke through and I'm so glad she did. I love how you took a character that so many people (even the freaking writers of the show!) wrote off as 2 dimensional and you give her life! layers! meaning! she never feels like a self insert style oc, but she feels so much more well rounded than any version we saw on the show. it's honestly admirable the amount of work you've put in. I'm so lucky to count myself as one of your rp partners and I can't wait to see where Billy and Kat will take us in 2024.

I unfortunately don't have the time to write a seperate message to all of the people on my dash, but I still want to tag people that bring me joy every time I see your urls. all of the following has made the past few months (that should have been dark and awful) feel bright and full of hope. I appreciate every single one of you. ➠

@vitaegratis

@edhellfire

@vcnusians

@scarednotscary

@pierprincess / @nancewheelr

@hangtenn

@calistayed

@asiphon

@nexusvcrti

@multi-royalty

@helltothefire

@mhunster

and of course, I'd be remiss if I didn't list my ride or die. the people who make tumblr rp the amazing place that it is, and people that I will cherish always, whether we're writing together or not. y'all are stuck with me! ➠ @seesgood @breakthings @mysharxna 」

#✘ ooc #✘♚✘ saved