#for the simple fact that maybe my presence and love can be so powerful enough to change the course of the narrative etc etc 😔😔

[hazelfoureyes]

for your consideration:

a reader who’s genuinely more powerful than Alastor is. maybe they’re royalty or another overlord or maybe they simply just have a more commanding presence than him, but in any way, he hates it. he goes out of his way to try to one-up them (much like how he did with Lucifer), but the reader never falters, ever-calm and ever-in control. it infuriates Alastor to no end— not only because of the simple fact that he isn’t the strongest person in the room anymore, but also because the reader never treats him like he’s lesser than them. they treat him like an equal, and it makes him even angrier.

when they fuck for the first time, it’s a last-ditch attempt for Alastor to regain control— and it fails, because even though Alastor is on top with his nails digging into the reader’s skin, doing his very best to cause the pain he knows he can cause, the reader still just stares up at him, taking it like they always do. no tears fall from their eyes, no pleads fall from their lips. Alastor is dissatisfied— very much so. so they do it again. and again. and again, until it’s something of a game between them. until one day, the reader’s composure finally shatters.

they’ve had enough of Alastor’s attitude and disrespect, and they tell him as much. they pin him down, snarling about his god complex and his twisted sadism and how long they’ve been waiting to put him in his place. and Alastor finds that no matter how much he struggles, he can’t get that control that had been so rudely snatched from him back. but the thing is— a part of him likes it. really, really likes it— that loss of power that should be his and his alone, being held just out of his petulant reach. it brings him a sick feeling that he’s never felt before and can’t get enough of.

that part grows and grows until he’s the one crying and begging and squirming weakly underneath the reader, both his smile and his mind threatening to break as the reader fucks him relentlessly. no matter how many times either of them cums, the reader doesn’t stop, not until Alastor is screaming his apologies, over and over and over again. he hates it. he loves it.

when it’s all over, and when the reader has settled, Alastor makes them promise that they will never speak of this again. without a hint of smugness, the reader agrees— but maybe the next time Alastor is acting up, the reader will only have to give him a look. and he will know.

I know this wasn’t a prompt necessarily but don’t think you can come into MY HOUSE and lay a feast in front of me and not expect I’d dig in 👏 face 👏 first 👏 so here’s me just kinda riffing off your DELICIOUSLY WRITTEN MESSAGE. NO TIME TO EDIT A CUTE REPLY IMAGE

Wrapped around Your Finger (Ace Alastor bottoms for a GN!Seraphim Reader short smut)

Warnings/Promises: 🗣️ ALASTOR GETS FINGERED, Gender Neutral Reader x Alastor smut, hate fucking, bondage, initial dubcon, Ace Alastor, scratching, kinda degradation kink, Angel Reader, Reader is a good friend, Protect Angel Dust at all costs

minors dni

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ When Lucifer introduced a defected Seraphim to the hotel, Alastor’s smile dropped. You had feet yet to him you seemed to glide through the hotel halls effortlessly. You were impeccably dressed, ever polite, well mannered, clean. It was driving him mad. Yes, Alastor knew the importance of being well groomed. He exalted manners and gentility. He disliked grime and thought a lack of personal hygiene was an actual sin. But the sight of you, every fucking day with that ever present soft smile on your lips? Your gaze, always gentle as you listened to sinners explain their dreams of redemption. Nails on a chalkboard. Every room you were in, all eyes turned to you. It was if the air itself was pulled into your charms.

Every one in the hotel either feared Alastor or, at least, failed to hide their annoyance when He’d sneak up on them or touch them without warning. Of course, not you. Alastor shocked himself with his antics in attempt to make you react to him at all. Charlie would pull him aside weekly, asking what the actual fuck? “Why did you say that? They know they aren’t from here, we all know that, but telling them they are most unnatural creature to ever exist in Hell? And I don’t think it was an accident you knocked their drink over. Al, you are being a bully.” Yes, and he was sorry. Sorry he was so ineffective. Not even a fucking knitted brow so much as flashed at him when he spilled your drink down your chest. You smiled, you had the audacity to smile at him and say, “Whoops. Your monocle isn’t prescription, huh?” He only had one option left to push you beneath him—-rip you to pieces. Any thing to get you to look at him differently than all the other weak souls mulling about in hell.

Alastor had seen you fight, when an overlord came to the hotel to taste seraphim blood, all of the Pride Ring saw your power. Arms out stretched, a glow came from your palms, yellow and bright. With the speed of someone enjoying a breakfast on the patio on a Sunday in hell, you knelt down and pressed your palms into the ground. A flash of light and power rung out from you and blinded everyone watching, but Alastor could see you as he melted into the deepest shadows your light created. White and gold glowing shards erupted from the dirt, fracturing the grounds of the hotel lawn as they formed a jagged but intelligent line straight for the demon. The overlord barely recovered from the blinding effect of your power before a glass-like piece shot from the ground and straight through his chest. It was over in seconds, and you had never dropped your soft grin.

He was prideful, but not stupid. A test, a little experiment first. When you watched sweetly from the sidelines and Charlie directed yet another meaningless activity, Alastor stood opposite you. Your eyes flitted from person to person, your smile small but genuine. Were you glowing? He had had enough. He reached his shadow appendages out and wrapped one around your ankle, as it gripped and prepared to drag you to the floor in what he hoped would be an embarrassing display, nothing happened. As the tentacle touched you, it dissipated. Your light entirely erasing the shadow.

He felt his mind breaking. Every night he paced, feeling your overwhelming presence in the hotel even at such a distance. He decided to try the one thing he’d never tried. Atleast, not since coming to hell. You were always so accommodating, maybe to a fault? He found you in kitchen, alone, making yourself some sickeningly sweet drink. Your body froze when Alastor pressed against you from behind. But, you didn’t make a sound. “Apologies, I don’t think I can suffer any longer.” He ground his hips into your ass, “I never do this, a gentleman through and through. But you see, as a deer demon, sometimes there are periods of—- unbearable discomfort. I can’t focus on redemption like this.”

Alastor was shocked when you swiveled around, eyes closed from your smile, and said, “I came here to help. What can I do?”

He couldn’t understand it. Bent over the counter in the common area, his nails cutting lines down your sides that healed with a frustrating speed, you just sighed into him. Little moans, soft exhales. He slammed your hips against him, the sound ringing through the kitchen. But still, your eyes were closed but not clenched. Your sounds small and even. The only thing keeping him hard was your hand, reached back and digging nails into his thighs. The tiniest hint of your true feelings. He’d bury his mind where your hand tore his skin and find release. Happy to see you at least a little less perfectly assembled after.

Alastor would find you at the most inconvenient times, in the most public settings, and find some excuse to need to fuck you. At one point a sinner even walked in on you two, and to Alastor’s palpable dismay, you apologized to the sinner for blocking the ice machine.

Your resolve finally snapped, however, when Alastor stepped past a line he didn’t know you had. Alastor had you, uncharacteristically, in your bed. He always spoke during sex but now, now it was genuinely grating you. “You’re such a whore, coming to Hell just to eat demon cock. If you drowned in cum you’d probably respawn as an even bigger slut than Angel Dust.” You sat up, one hand on his chest and the other under his armpit, and flipped him onto his back. Alastor’s arm moved to push back, but he found both wrists held down to the bed with a signature glow.

“If you knew Angel half as well as you pretended, you’d know how fucking stupid you sound.” Your hands gathered his cum from earlier that evening, slowly dripping out of you with the sudden change in position. “He’s the whore? Who stalks this hotel, hungry for any ounce of attention? A petulant child willing to embarrass others just so teacher notices them?” Your hand began to pump his cock. Alastor thrashed, he hated people handling his dick, but that was overshadowed by his disgust of having his semen spread over his skin. The sensation made his skin crawl and he would have gone soft but when he met your gaze he only grew harder in your fist. Your eyes were alight, figuratively and literally. The rage on your face made his smile drop entirely. You looked like you hated him. “If he is a whore, then you are Mary Magdalene. I’ll wash your feet for you, sinner.” You used your knees to spread open his untethered legs.

“I know you, Alastor,” the fingers of your other hand slicked through the lathered cum dripping down his ass and began to massage at his hole. “Your greatest sin wasn’t murder. It was pride. Never could let anyone see the famous Radio star with even a hair out of place. You’d drop your morals for even a taste of an improved social image. Even in death, you abuse and hound others who dare to make you feel less than how you demand you look from the outside.” He wanted to say anything, argue, roar, but his jaw was locked in place. Your eyes never left his, and soon his vision was darkening around your luminescent stare. A finger slipped into him, slowly but with resistance.

“Tell me to stop.” Your hand slowed to let his muscles relax around your digit before picking up speed again, curving your palm over his head with every pull upward, “Tell me to stop and I will. I’ll go right back to who I always am, and always will be. I’ll smile at you every morning and move out of your way with a nod in the halls. Say ‘stop’.” Your words were threats, not idle or hollow and it made Alastor’s thighs twitch. Go back? Return to looking at him like you truly wanted the best for him despite how dirty his hands were? Soft eyes threatening to make him melt into a lesser, weaker man?

You were in him to the knuckle, finger prodding and twirling.

His eyes were wide but focused on you. Alastor thought his soul would evaporate, your face a sneer he’d never been so lucky to even imagine before now. He could feel you around him, in him.

A tiny, halted, “S-,” was forced through his teeth.

Stop?

Slower?

He shook his head, eyes fluttering closed.

“God, you’re pathetic. What about a sorry? Can you manage a single apology for your comments tonight? I’ll let you roll me back into the mattress, for a sincere ‘sorry’.” Alastor's knees hitched, his head fell back, and he came over your knuckles with a pained groan. But you didn’t stop. You’d get your reply, eventually.

Alastor gave a threat of his own when you finally got your apology, half screamed through his third orgasm, and let him flee your bed. You nodded and agreed, yes yes, this never happened blah blah yet another example of your enormous pride.

After that night, any time Alastor wanted to yank on Husk’s chains, or double speak someone into a deal, he’d pause and look around. Expecting your two golden lit eyes to be staring, ready to flip him onto his back and drag several more apologies from him.

༻Masterlist༺

#alastor x gn!reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor smut #hazbin hotel smut #alastor #ace alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x reader smut #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #fanfiction #x you smut #smut writer #smut writing #smut fanfiction #x you #x reader #reader fic #reader insert #reader

[angelic-dew]

Can I get some yan tanjiro pls?

# yandere tanjiro headcannons !

▸🥢・yuri's thoughts :: this request is so old, i am so sorry.

▸🍂・pairing :: Tanjiro K. x g/n reader — {you/your pronouns}

▸✖ ・trigger warnings :: yandere. isolation. possessive behaviour. occ? obsessions. delusions. jealousy. manipulation. grammatical errors. || proofread.

⚝Just a reminder I don't tolerate nor do I encourage the following topics in reality; I like keeping it strictly to fiction

ʚ🥢ɞ. tanjiro is a yandere which is stricken to the core with pure 'love'; well that's what he tends to call it. All his love and dedication is solely devoted towards his angelic darling, nothing could compare to how you make him feel - it's as if you're a simple treasure, that he must keep safe and hidden away from the greediness of the world.

ʚ🥢ɞ. tanjiro is a yandere that doesn't show his yandere tendencies often, to be frank, they never show unless it's a life-or-death situation. However, he tends to always reassure you more often than not, even when you don't need it. Kamado is always professing his undying lust for you in the simplest of ways: either soft praises of his own sentimental value towards you or a gentle gaze accompanied by a slight smile is always enough.

ʚ🥢ɞ. tanjiro is a yandere that cannot bare to see you in pain, furthermore, to see your beloved eyes beginning to weep and sob; he truly can't bare to behold a sight such as that, so more often than not, he would do almost anything in his power to keep you happy. Your smile is what he cherishes most. In fact, that's what attracted him to you in the first place, your captivating smile, it was just so alluring and he craves to see that sight more and more.

ʚ🥢ɞ. tanjiro is a yandere that spoils you from time to time; that being small gifts or maybe a thing or two you were eyeing at the market the other day. He does tend to pay his utmost attention to your every want and need, he's always listening to you - the slayer is just too wrapped around your finger, my dear, he will listen to your every beck and call, despite how ridiculous they may be. Anything to keep you happy after all.

ʚ🥢ɞ. tanjiro is a yandere that never shuts his trap about you. Singing your praises to the top of his lungs as if you're some God when he's away from you on a mission of some sort. He has constant reminders from Zenitsu to kindly shut up but those words tend to fall on deaf ears, for his beloved angel calls his name, every hour of each day, despite their presence being absent.

ʚ🥢ɞ. tanjiro is a yandere that manipulates you right from the start. It was his best attempt at a pacifist way of claiming you as his own for good. He spends his time with you when he's not on missions, whether that's enjoying your presence near him or Kamado savouring the conversation you both share together.

ʚ🥢ɞ. tanjiro is a yandere that with every individual word that comes out of that mouth of his, it is inclined to store such overbearing emotion behind them. Especially when he locked his eyes on you with such sweet eyes and a tender smile always plastering itself along his face. His voice was inevitably solemn and gentle; as the passion he felt for you was evident within his pupils.

ʚ🥢ɞ. tanjiro is a yandere that will make himself familiar with your hobbies/interests. Either trying them out himself or gaining more knowledge about said thing. It always fills him with pure joy to hear you talk about what makes you happiest in the world, and now that he's familiarized with them - he can understand that passion of yours to a greater degree.

ʚ🥢ɞ. tanjiro is a yandere that loathes in your loves. He wants it all for himself, he doesn't mind that he's selfish; all he really needs is you, his angel and your love is the purest thing he can get in life.

ʚ🥢ɞ. tanjiro is a yandere that doesn't take kindly to rivals, of course, he won't do anything drastic, however, jealousy still radiates off him by the boatload, it's always clear in his demeanour when he feels this type of way. Whether this person may be close to him or not, the only one he truly trusts you around is Nezuko - everyone else is out of the question.

ʚ🥢ɞ. tanjiro is a yandere that due to his jealousy, has to find a way to make the 'problem' go away, that is when he finds himself approaching you while the person is with you. Offering you some food or asking you to help him out with some matters. If all fails he pulls you in by the waist and pecks your cheek.

ʚ🥢ɞ. tanjiro is a yandere that needs you, to be with you desperately. He loves to savour your beauty your everything; his words are gentle but his intentions are darker and growing more calculated and precise every day he spends with you, that 'love' of his is also growing, like a flame, rapidly burning more as the warmth takes over. He's hooked on you like a drug, a drug he can't get enough of.

ʚ🥢ɞ. tanjiro is a yandere that is fully aware of what his actions may cause. The loss of friends and such, he's fully aware and it barely stings him as he does realize the mess he is making. After all, you're his, and he's pulling you closer to him every day; to the point, you feel like he's your world. You're so dependent on him. It's almost pathetic. But don't worry my dear, that's what he wants - he is more than capable of suiting your every demand.

ʚ🥢ɞ. tanjiro is a yandere that is an addict for you, and he surely knows that. He's waiting for the day he can claim you as his forever soulmate, for even death cannot draw him apart from you.

© angelic-dew :: reblogs are appreciated ! <3

#headcanon #yandere #yande.re #demon slayer #kny x y/n #kny x you #tanjiro kamado #demon slayer tanjiro #tanjiro x reader #kimetsu tanjiro #tanjirou #yandere demon slayer #yandere kny #yandere kamado #yandere tanjiro #yandere x reader #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #yandere tanjiro x reader #yandere tanjiro kamado #tw: delusions

[onsunnyside]

✎ 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Lloyd Hansen x stripper!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | possible DARK undertones but it’s really just Lloyd being Lloyd: toxic relationship, manipulation, power imbalance, mean!Lloyd, threatening/blackmail. sex worker!reader, SMUT - minors DNI, dirty talk, daddy kink, degradation, dumbification, gunplay, choking, dom/sub undertones. implied: oral (f), somnophilia, reader with other men. 

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Lloyd comes to take you back home. Based on these asks (1) (2) and written for my I Can Fix Him Party.

𝗪/𝗖 | 1.48K

𝗔/𝗡 | ahh I saw the gray man today and can’t wait for all the Lloyd love !! He’s super fun to write hehe, I hope you all enjoy this little thing I wrote half asleep, there’s bound to be mistakes but as always, all mistakes are my own. this was written for my ❤️‍🔥 𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐱 𝐇𝐢𝐦 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Say it, or I blow your brains out—not that there’s much up there anyway.” 

“Eat shit and die, asshole.” 

The safety clicks off and you clench your teeth, pressing your bare back against the jagged brick wall. Your ankles get a little weak, either stupid fear or the seven-inch heels. 

“You wanna run that mouth again? Or should I get a little trigger happy?” Lloyd cocks his head, and his moustache twitches with his sly smile. 

Although your heart thumps against your chest, you refuse to show weakness—for however long you can last. It’s already longer than you thought, but as soon as he brought out the handgun, you knew it was only a matter of time. “Do it, I dare you.” 

Lloyd, the fucking sociopath, points the gun past your face and fires, the loud shot booms through the empty alleyway and rattles your brain. A ringing resonates in your ears, and a painful sharpness blooms from your temples. 

“A few weeks in another city and acting ballsy isn’t going to change the fact that you’re right back where you started.” He brings the smoking muzzle too close for comfort, “Say, I’m your whore.” 

You open your mouth for another snide remark but are cut off with a quiet whimper. You slump against the bricks when Lloyd traces the muzzle down your chest, so delicate that if it weren’t freezing cold steel and still smelling like gunpowder, you’d mistake it for his strangely soft hands. 

Just a simple touch and you were his pathetic girl again. 

“Say, I’m just your dumb whore, daddy. I can’t think for myself, I’m all yours.” His tone drips with smugness. All along he knew that little touch would break down your final walls, but he enjoys your banter, watching you squirm and get all heated up. It makes him rock hard. “Say it, sunshine.” 

You refuse, shaking your head and turning away. Setting your glare on one of his men stationed at the end of the alley, their mere presence a brutal reminder that wherever you go, Lloyd won’t be that far behind. There’s nothing and no one able to stop him, not moving cities or even countries, changing your name and transforming your entire appearance. 

Admittedly, you didn’t do much of that, you couldn’t since life had been hard enough. All you could do was move to another city for a few weeks before coming back when cash got too tight—and you found yourself in the same city you escaped from, and working at the fucking rival club of your first. 

You were back at the beginning with the same name, same look, same job, same problems, and the same man sniffing you out like a dog. 

Worst of all, you don’t even think you hate him anymore—or if you hated him at the start, and maybe you enjoy the chase that always leads to you getting caught. Maybe you liked him, no, you definitely liked him, regardless of how much you didn’t want to. 

Lloyd tsks in disappointment, tapping the muzzle on your hard nipple. “I guess I’ll just find that one friend of yours again, has her nose healed from last time?”

Your face falls, “Please—don’t, please, Lloyd. Please don’t drag her into this again.” 

He raises a brow, “oh, now you’re being sweet? Are you gonna be a good girl for me now, pumpkin? Or does daddy have to put this gun somewhere else?” Lloyd taunts, licking his lips as his eyes trail down your scantily clad body, eventually landing on the tiny black thong. “Someplace tight, wet, and fucking delicious.” He growls, lewdly rubbing over the bulge in his pants. 

Indecent memories of shiny steel, sodden fabric and bruised skin flash through your mind. 

Lloyd has you pinned against his desk, the tray of breakfast long forgotten since you walked into his office as he was polishing his guns.  

“My pretty girl in a pretty apron, I must be doing something right.” He snorts, “Maybe I’ve been forgiven and blessed for all that shit last week, hm?”

You can’t answer him, all too lost in the pleasure as he rubs the barrel of his gun between your folds, paying special attention to your sore clit. Your hips jerk upward, meeting his slow motions as you grasp his bare shoulders, digging your nails into the muscle.

“You’re real sensitive,” He observes, tightening his hand around your throat, “Aw, did daddy treat your button too rough this morning? I just couldn’t help myself, you’re so beautiful when you sleep, could practically smell you all ready for me. It was a good wake-up call, right baby?”

Since you’re too fucked out to do anything, he forcibly makes you nod and hooks his fingers in your mouth to move your lips.

“Yes, daddy, I’m just a little whore who wants to be fucked while I sleep, and bred until I cry.” Lloyd says in a high-pitched voice, then gasps, “Oh, that can’t be true. I never knew my girl was such a whore.” He presses the weapon harder against you, even dipping the muzzle to your drippy hole, nearly fucking you through your panties. “Let’s see if I heard you right: you want to be used, fucked stupid and pumped full?”

“Daddy—I, fuck.” You gasp when he pulls the cotton to the side, harshly rubbing your swollen clit with the cold steel. 

“Still can’t speak? That’s okay, I know what to do.” He proceeds to slide the hard barrel up and down your slit, alternating between speed and pressure, bullying your button until you cry out. “If only you could tell me how much you like my gun on your pretty pussy, I’d let you come.” 

You whine at that, eyes squeezed shut as his hand returns to your neck, keeping you upright. 

As the weapon pulls away, he prods the muzzle at your bare hole, “Look at that…” He trails off, holding the gun inches from your face. The steel is gleaming with your arousal, “I guess you are a whore, sunshine.” He smiles widely, bringing the handgun to his mouth for a small taste, “You did way better than I thought you could, pumpkin. You gonna polish the rest of daddy’s guns like a good girl?”

Your thighs clench tightly, an unmistakable wetness soaking through the fabric. “I’ll come with you—just leave her alone, please.”

“You’re so sexy when you beg,” He groans. “And, as much as I love watching you flaunt your body, my bed is cold. So, gather whatever shit you have,” he nods over his shoulder at the back entrance of the strip club, the music flowing into the night air, “And, tell your sleazy boss you’re going home.”

“But—”

“And, if he stops you, we’re going to have some fun and the pervert can finally get what he’s been wishing for.” 

You know that look, it’s all too familiar. It’s the same shadow that made you notice him in the first place. 

After giving a client a private show, doing far more than was professionally ‘allowed,’ you spotted a man in the next room. Immediately, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that this stranger knew what you did. 

He was clad in a patterned shirt and white pants, slowly sipping from a glass cup as he gestured you over with two fingers. When you didn’t move, he brought out a wad of cash, then another and another until there was a healthy stack of bills on the table. Far more than what you made in the last two months. 

“I want you for the rest of the night. Don’t mention other men, don’t leave my sight, and you can walk away with double that.” He points to the cash, spreading his legs wide as you try to ignore the intimidating bulge in his pants. “Hopefully, that guy prepped you, if not,” He chuckles to himself, “I guess you won’t be walking away—more like, crawling.” 

Lloyd tucks the gun into the holster and his gold pinky ring gleams, “I’m going to fuck you in front of your boss, let him see how pretty you are getting split open on my cock—then I’m gonna cut off his boner, and shove it in his mouth so he can taste what dirty, slimy, scumbag he is.” He cups your cheek, darkness clouding his blue eyes when he swipes a drop of some bastard’s cum from your skin. “And, when we get back home, you’re going to give me the name and description of whoever you just blew.”

“Lloyd—it’s confidential.”

“You think I care?” He spins you around, steadying you with his big hands on your hips before patting your ass, squeezing the flesh. “Off you go, and be quick, I have work tomorrow.” Lloyd silently praises the paper-thin garment on your lower half. “Remember you don’t have to worry about a thing, baby. Daddy’s gonna take care of everything.” 

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: well Lloyd is definitely one of my faves atm !! he’s so 😵‍💫😵‍💫 pls know I wrote this half asleep and it’s 4am so goodnight !!

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! This was written for my ❤️‍🔥 𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐱 𝐇𝐢𝐦 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

#icfh party #Lloyd Hansen #tw gunplay #dark fic #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen fanfic #lloyd hansen x fem!reader #lloyd hansen fic #lloyd hansen fanfiction #lloyd hansen x reader #Lloyd Hansen smut #lloyd hansen x female reader #x reader #Lloyd Hansen x you #dark lloyd hansen #Chris evans #Chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfic #chris evans characters #the gray man #the gray man fanfic #sonny’s stories #Lloyd Hansen one shot #stripper!reader #back again au #kinky lloyd

[chaifootsteps]

Okay, so jumping here. I've been thinking and imo the 'Lilith' is Eve in disguise and Rosie is Lilith theory still holds true. This is brought to you by me going "We know Viv is a shitty writer, so from the writing already available, where would she lead the plot NOW?" and by my tinfoil hat.

We know Lilith is somewhere in Heaven (maybe even in Eden itself). Unless she pulls the weirdest explanation out of her hat for why she took a small vacay for 7 YEARS abandoning her daughter (with whom we know she had a good relationship with, IF that part of the pilot is still true. She never stopped to explain what parts of the pilot are still true, ffs.), Lilith would never. I don't even think she:

1) Would be allowed in Heaven, even by making a deal with Adam.

2) Adam's pride is too big for him to simply accept such a deal and Lilith's pride would be equally big imo. This interaction would never work.

So that has to be Eve. And Adam *has* to know that that's Eve. Or he doesn't, idc. Point is, it's far more likely by normal logic for that to be Eve. By Viv logic...? Not so much.

Which brings me to my second point! Rosie and her character. I did kind of feel the Mary Poppins vibes a bit, ngl. Horrible redesign, but oh well... The way she reacted to Charlie, her going "yeah, singing totes works here, in the *cannibal* colony!" and her giving that love advice + "we all did things we aren't proud of" + the fact that she's a "hellborn"? She has to be Lilith, sorry. Also also I feel like cannibalism isn't even such a big deal??? In the show I mean. It's literally so cartoonish it simply becomes a hellish quirk for some inhabitants. Sure Alastor, you're a cannibal, boo-hoo. I don't feel threatened by any of them, is what I mean. And even irl, I feel like yeah, it's gross and most likely getting yourself sick, but what makes cannibalism truly bad is the act of *killing* that person, ye know? In Viv's Hell that can't even happen, they'll just respawn, no problem.

And my final reason issss: Viv just ran so fast past 4 seasons worth of plot that imo she backed herself info a corner. The only things keeping the plot going are...Alastor's deal and who he made it with. It's probably Roo or Eve (or Lilith if Rosie is just Rosie), but I have a feeling like it can't be so simple with her, she has to pull a super complicated sayan explanation to make it seem like she just had us all guessing the wrong things, she's suuuuch a literary genius. And she loves musicals a bit too much (Adam is literally just Beetlejuice minus everything interesting about him), so pulling a Sweeney Todd sounds very in-character for her.

Now, speaking of Alastor....I haaaate how she destroyed his character with all the swearing and the petty edgelord-ness. She's not smart enough to write a smart chaotic presence/maybe potential villain. There, I said it. She should open a psychology book or some shit (she should've hired psychologists to coach her about writing about topics such as SA, addiction, sadistic/criminal personalities and so on, but we know she never put such thought into her work). Or at least a sensibility reader for her plot, smh. The overall tone of the show is jumping around faster than a bunny on electrolytes.

And as always, Alastor and Rosie have more chemistry than Charlie and Vaggie literally the "main" couple. They seem like a 30s married couple, tbh.

Also also super confused about Alastor's microphone and how she can hand it over to Charlie??? Why would he do that??? Are we supposed to understand he now cares about her? Handling his (presumably from the Adam fight) source of power to her just like that?? TWICE?!?

I understand his final lyrics are supposed to be "holy shit, I almost died for these people, what is wrong with me???" in a nutshell (+ that part about the contract), but we were never SHOWN how he became more attached to them??? We just have to believe him based on the talks with Rosie and Niffty respectively. What a joke. (Niffty got partially restored in my brain, at least).

-idk, Broadcast🎭 anon- (I know I DMed u, but yea)

Honestly? Even if this leak never comes true the way Viv planned it back then, I for one am having a great time speculating.

#Anonymous #Broadcast Anon #viv stuff #actual blog post

[unsleepingtales]

Mentopolis Ep 3! We have life things so this is late but we press on

Freddie said the whole thing!

Just a damp damp man 😐

Once again. We need Stacy Fakename merch pls.

I love the wonkaness of Gobstopper Industries

IT MOVES

The heart being the Boston to the brain’s New York is interesting

Phrenology lmao

I slap him. I kiss him.

Hunch keeping so much stuff in his pants is such a Choice

I really think it’s a phone buzzing and not a sexy thing because Elias is so convinced he doesn’t deserve pleasure that I don’t he would do that

If not ___, ___? is such a great sequence I’m gonna rewatch that several times probably

Turn yourself in to who???

Every part of the brain can notice conscience but pleasure. Sometimes the dice do really cool things.

The Fix being vaguely southern always cracks me up

Conrad not wanting to say fucks aw

He’s the only one who can DRIVE

Bro WHAT

Hank why

Ooh yay psychometer info

This thing could alter thoughts. Ok.

Evillll

I love lengthy lore drops. I love them so much.

That wave is designed to create impulses maybe?

The editing is simultaneously really cool and gonna give me a headache

This thing erases color from the mind? Does it erase memory?

This boiling down to ‘has the government been corrupted by external capitalist forces or was the already corrupt government merely enabled by this capitalist presence’ is incredibly interesting

Cool! Very convenient!

OH the reflexive switchboard yay

F for freezer!

Hunch why do you wanna see Anastasia’s apartment

Trapp is so great I don’t think I’ve appreciated him enough

I think killing the conscience will probably not save the life of someone who has been thrown out of a window

Hank what

“It’s about what happens when you’re the next age” I’m gonna cry?

What

Babe what

(a ballad of balls on tracks)

Oooh does the Fucks family also have keys

(everyone getting a kick out of the foot fetish joke)

Hank jostling Freddie because he’s so delighted <3

Splitting the partyyyyyy

fLiGhT 😉

Uncle Hunch and Uncle Fucks 🥲

Dome!

So many hats!

Imelda Pulse supportive cousin of the year <3

The cops. Great.

Something that ladies wear … …

Imelda Pulse coat rack of the year <3

Oh nooo

She’s just sooo estranged from her faaaamily she doesn’t know her cousiiiins

The commitment Siobhan has keeping her arms like that for the whole scene

The Police 😐

Incredible sneak skills

Threw a robe over her trench coat I’m dead

Yeah a newspaperwoman would have to get pretty good at lying lol

Iconic trio

Why is he the only one who can drive 😭

He really just lives to make people uncomfortable

Oooh d20 explosion

Why does he drive like that

BRENNAN WHY IS THAT YOUR DEFAULT ROCK

Put that tongue back in your mouth SIR.

(group trying to hold back laughter to keep it tense…)

(and failing)

The word fight is losing all meaning

I was gonna say Gilear energy but he’s honestly more confident than Gilear.

Self doubt is so strong and dominance is so weak.

I feel like dominance being weak is a trick tho. It feels too simple.

Also. Self Doubt isn’t even a pun of any kind his name is just straight up his job.

I just was busy.

Why is fight russian

Conrad is so sassy today

IVANA POPOV

What

The fuck just happened

The poor Fakename family

Box of Doom!!

The one thing that always bugs me is the box is never level and I don’t know if that affects how the die rolls

What a power

YEAH BABY

How are the fakenames even a family. What concept are they.

Dice are cool

One of those inflatable clowns that are weighted at the bottom so they bounce up whenever you hit them

(the crowd goes wild for Stacy Fakename)

I love character feats!

Flight was in control when Elias got hurt. Interesting.

I love how Hunch just has cartoon logic

I also forget that I’m playing and not just watching a story sometimes

You like my facts right?

FACT ALERT

PELICAN FACT ALERT

Oh god

Hank leaning into being intimidating is so good to watch

Man. Okay.

Oh that’s so cool. Focusing on breathing lowers the pressure. That’s so good.

What are you close to achieving

That’s SO fucked up

What

Who are you

What

Is this fucking adderall or something

Probably the psychometer. But it would be an interesting take for it to be meds lol.

BRENNAN.

#verbal component #reactions #mentopolis #The Fix #HANK

[hornyblogofhelen]

Okay, after one gay gif from some anime (there was a really hot hard kiss, and I can't get it out of my head now), I had a micro plot that overlaps with one of the headcanons above

Anyway, I think that maybe Thriffith can cook good food and El Moco could attach him as a local shef. The point is how it all came to this: one evening, the Bandit King, mega tired and exhausted, comes to his marketplace. He is morally shattered, he is very sad from another loss to the cat, he is angry and upset with everything in the world, and besides he is hungry. Suddenly one of the bandits tries to call the Boss to come to them. El Moco at first waves away, is rude, doesn't want to be disturbed, but as soon as he hears a familiar voice and a pleasant aroma of food, he immediately changes his mind and gets involved in the commotion. What's the matter? Oh, it's simple - Thriffith made us a meal. Stew with beef stew, potatoes, onions and carrots; boiled lobsters with shrimps; sushi with different fillings (and how can it be without the favorite Asian kitchen? No way!) - everything caught the eye, and I wanted to try every bite of what was on the table. El Moco said hello to his close comrade and suddenly his stomach rumbled loudly. Thriffith grinned and gave him the largest dish with small portions of all the food so that the Bandit King could taste everything.

As soon as El Moco tasted one of the treats, his eyes glazed over, he smiled widely and began shoving everything on the plate down his throat. Thriffith had time to be afraid he might eat the dishes, but luckily, as the plate became empty, the thieves boss asked for more and the bloodthirsty killer chef gave him the lion's share of the dinner.

At the end of the meal Thriffith asked if the bandit liked the food, to which he jumped from the table with fury, came close to the murderer, squeezed his shoulders with his powerful hands, and led him away, into the wilderness, away from the eyes of others.

Thriffith panicked, wondering what was wrong, whether he'd over-spiced or over-salted or undercooked something, but to say he was creeped out and scared the hell out of himself was an understatement. " - W-what is it? You don't like the taste? I don't understand... " - Thriffit asked quietly and uncertainly, mentally wishing his question would remain rhetorical.

But all of a sudden, without any explanation, El Moco just kisses Triffit hard and savory on the lips. The "Killer Chef" is quite taken aback by this. He had expected anything but not a kiss on the lips. And when he felt the end of the bandit's tongue almost in his mouth, Triffit jerked and his face turned a rich pink tomato. He instantly pulled away and covered the bandit's mouth with his palms.

" - You-you-you... What are you doing?!? You could've just said "thank you" instead of kissing me! What is this?! Why?!? " - Thriffith gibbered indignantly, more from embarrassment than shame. " - Because words alone won't be enough!!! " - the bandit replied sharply, removing the assassin's hands from his face. " - Huh?!? - Seriously! The fact that you happened to be here and cooked dinner is a great blessing! And you dare say I didn't like the food?! Your cooking is so good, it's like I flew to heaven! You literally brightened my day with your presence and your food! I literally kiss you for that, because it's an unbelievable experience!"

Thriffith was stunned by what he heard. He had never heard so many compliments, especially from one person. He could have cried with joy, but he was only embarrassed and happy.

El Moco ended up clutching him tightly in his arms, thanking him for a delicious dinner and a wonderful evening. But what about Thriffith? He didn't react in any way. He was in shock. He was immensely happy and it seemed his stomach was overflowing with butterflies fluttering in love

#[horny prison] dirty thoughts #I couldn't sleep well because of this passage #so I had to write it down at all costs #[horny prison] headcanons #[hp] cartoon series #[horny prison] otp #[hp] mans #taopib #the adventures of puss in boots #thriffith #el moco

[madefate]

i should have been here. this is my fault. || lucifer ( angelic verse ) @ charlie ! / @ducktastic-dad

❝ Dad - ... ❞

Charlie isn't sure she's ever felt so exposed and aching in her life - not in any extermination that has come before, not in the moments leading up to this fight, not in the nights she's spent slipped away from Vaggie and curled around her pillow trying to breathe through the panic of protecting her people and what her failure would mean. Not even the last time she saw her father - how long has it been ? - and then rested silently against her mother, Lilith's fingers through her hair, neither of them saying out loud the unspoken, simple fact that this could be the last visit.

Now, her mind is reeling. The losses of Sir Pentious, Alastor, Dazzle, all of them form a blurry ring around her thoughts. The hotel, smoldering, in ruins. Her small, cobbled together family in various states of injury and distress - Vaggie. Charlie's own back throbs in time with her pulse but it's all she can do to ignore the pain because her friends, her people, need her. There is simply no room for a moment of weakness - not anymore.

And her father standing before her - angelic, resplendent, and close enough to touch.

Charlie cannot begin to understand what the sight of him means to her - how her entire body seizes with the desire to run to him, throw her arms around him, make sure that he's here, really here, and not another conjured dream. But also how the sheer presence of his power stirs a strange uneasiness in her - she doesn't realize that her tail is still manifested until she feels it flickering in caution and worry behind her back, and she hates that just for a moment, she's embarrassed by its presence.

And underneath it all is a much simpler but still acutely present awkwardness.

Her instinct, though, is still gratitude - still love, still the need to soothe over the pain in his voice. Carefully, Charlie takes a shaking step forward, holding onto one arm with her other hand, shoulders shrugged up just a little. ❝ We would have been lost without you. It's okay ! Really, I - can you ... can you even be here right now ? ❞

She feels like a little kid again, full of hope and naivety, barely daring to believe that maybe - maybe this time he won't vanish as quickly as he's come.

#hh tw #( ic. ) #( charlie. ) #( answered. ) #ducktastic dad #i may have uh ! Played Myself with this one just a little bit

[majabebber]

Portrait Of A Parisian Style Icon

Everyone loves french fashion and the style icons of the City of Light. Clemence Poésy is one of them. She enchants everyone with her effortless and simple looks. Here's what she's up to now. The actress, muse and model is famous for her effortless and cool style - the signature uniform of French women. She is effortlessly beautiful and theres something magical about her appearance that can't be quite gasped - maybe it's the simple fact of her being french. When asked what makes French women so cool she answered: 'It's weird. I'd never really thought about it but I was on a bus in Paris last week while people were going to work and it suddenly struck me that everyone looked really sleek and classic. No one was trying too hard, they were just cool.' Her to go to look is biker boots, black jeans and a white shirt - combined with messy hair and natural make up. When asked how she would describe her personal she said: "I always feel really silly answering that question because I really don't feel like I have a style. I like it when clothes have a story and I like finding things that move me somehow but I think it's very important to not make fashion too much of a thing in your life. It's a tool to show who you are to the world but only if you're privileged enough to to be able to worry about it. It can be armour, it can be something you protect yourself from the world with, it can be something that gives you power that makes you feel stronger but it's important to see the poetry in it and try to tell a story with your clothes. Not to make fashion too much of a thing." But she's not only a source of inspiration when it comes to fashion. She's the face of the fragrance Love Story by Chloe - portraying a sweet and romantic love story in Paris. With her natural beauty and her pure features she's a popular ambassador for skin care brands like Shiseido. Her personal favourites are Avène and La Roche-Posay. She also impresses with her magnificent acting in movies like Mr Morgans Last Love' (2013) - a story about love, loss and friendship set in Paris. Not the only movie she starred in and swept everyone off her feet. Her latest appearance was at Paris Fashion Week in January where she attended the Valentino Haute Couture Spring/Summer 2020 show. Her latest project is the World War Il drama Resistance where she plays Emma, the crush of the gestapo chief Klaus Barbie (played by Matthias Schweighöfer). This year in March, she also starred (and danced like no one was wathcing) in the music video of M. Ward's song Unreal City' that was shot in Paris. "A video about finding joy and wonder in the most random moments and places." It was directed by the French writer and director Beatrice Pegard. When asked how working with Clemence was, she answered: "Clemence is wonderful and an absolute pleasure to work with. She is incredibly smart, talented and inspiring and I cannot wait to work with her again." Pegard sums up what a lot of people think about Clemence and what makes her so magnificent. In conclusion, Poesy keeps on inspiring and enchanting the world simply with her presence and her endless talent - and we definitely haven't seen the last of her. "My clothes have to be comfortable. I don't feel at ease at anything too complicated." BY MAJA BEBBER

[theeyeofinfinity]

Why me

It doesn’t seem to matter what i do. No amount of time or distraction or anything is enough to cut my bind. I’m shackled to someone who wants me just as bad but not in the same way. What is it going to take? Why does my mind try to reconstruct the narrative to try & justify this attachment? Is it a test? Should i be trying harder to get back to you? If so why? It didnt work the last thousand times i tried over the course of 6 years. I lost a relationship over this obsession. I feel fine on my own, it took some adjusting but I’m more relaxed now than i used to be. Ive even managed to quell the pains of solitude. I don’t feel like i have to have someone to do something fun. I actually enjoy solo adventuring. Which is exciting to realize because of how many doors its going to open. But just as i start gaining traction in my life you’re right there to cause the halt. Why do i want you in my life so bad if you were never that good to me. We had our good times sure & we were amazing best friends. But as partners? You left a lot to be desired. It took years to reconcile with the fact that majority wasnt even my fault. Yet i still find myself craving your touch, your voice, your presence. I feel whole, but somehow not? Its like no matter how much i grow & better myself, no matter how much i love myself or someone else, I’m .01% away from being whole. You’re that last sliver thats missing. Why? You didnt add anything but stress & heartache to my life. The company was wonderful & at the beginning it was like a dream come true. We couldnt get enough of each other. It was perfect. But reality sunk in & we went back to our old cycle. Being that we were both single this time for the first time in those 6 years i thought things would be different. It really broke me when it didnt change anything. This was my last hoorah & it didnt work. I had every hope that it would. It just fell apart. You let me down, so why do i try to convince myself that i was the one who still messed it up by jumping the gun too early. You had just gotten out of a relationship & obviously were going to be emotionally closed off. I would have never gotten in this early. But if thats what it is why did you go sleep with two other dudes just because. Is it fair of me to even say that? I feel like it is because you knew how i felt. But at the same time i shouldnt have really been in you’re life anymore. We werent & still arent & won’t ever be anything more than strangers now. Its so hard to see things clearly when it comes to you & it always has been. If i don’t distract myself enough i come back to you. Even when i do, i wish you were there to share it with me. What lesson am i supposed to get from you?

Never give up? Learn when to give up? True love never dies & should be fought for? If you love something set it free & if it comes back its yours? I really don’t know. My mind says no. My heart & soul yes. My mind gets out voted but still holds all the power because my brain drives my body. I want to forget & leave it behind but its screaming from the depths of my subconscious & i come back every time. Maybe i just need to meet the right person & itll all go away. You never loved me as much as i loved you. Its been painfully obvious for a long time. You loved your last partner more than me. Gave up on me for him. Held onto him when he was so much worse than me. But i was left behind. Abandoned. But neither of us can deny this unbearable pull. These overwhelming desire to come back. Why did you have to make it complicated. We could have had it all. We could have had our happily ever after & been so in love the rest of our lives. Built our family. Laughed cried & argued only to come together & hug it out at the end for the rest of our days. But you threw it all away & i’ll never know how someone could say their soulmate wasnt good enough. How someone could mistake peace & connection for anything that isnt love. Trade away all that for the simple high of being on an emotional up & down with someone who gives you butterflies but ultimately never came close to loving you the way i did. I’m fairly confident you don’t even ask yourself these questions. Let alone think about it. Writing it all out helps tho. I need to hear the things i think about as though someone else was saying it to me. I won’t bend this time. I won’t give in & come find you. You had so many chances & fucked it up every single time. You can spend the rest of your time figuring out how to get back to me. But i won’t wait around for it anymore, I’m going to keep pressing on & trying to grow into who i was meant to be. I honestly still don’t know but every passing day i feel more & more like its not life of grandeur but a life of small significant interactions with key people that will help culminate into a better world. I will be part of the flaps from the butterfly that ultimately move the world towards a better tomorrow. As to how i don’t know. But i have a lifetime to figure it out. I want to hate you. I do. But god i miss you & hate myself for wishing you would just run away with me & start a life with me that will produce an eternity of happiness. I love you in ways neither of us or anyone could ever understand. I want to leave candles behind that will help you become a better person, even if i never get to see it. Maybe this is our final chapter of separation? We came together too immature to hold together & fell apart. We came together again once i was in a much more stable position & you were so turbulent it ruined us again. Maybe now is the time we learn to be each other. I learn to be you & embrace your side of our coin so i can appreciate & partake in the things you love. You learn to be me & embrace my side so you can understand & connect with me & the things i love. Whatever the case is at this point, this was the only way. You really did not value how much i strived to stay around. You need to really feel the loss the way i did. Only then do i think we have a chance at overcoming the damage thats been done. It might not be too late for us. We won’t know until years from now. So why do i still feel like its still a matter of when itll happen & not if? Lets hope no one beats us to the punch. That being said, you need to hurry up & get your shit together. I can only stall this train for so long.

[awkwardspontaneity]

Hello. This is my first request for the Legend of Zelda, so I do not know how to write it correctly. I don't speak English and I'm writing this in a translator, so there may be mistakes here, sorry. In general, I want to see how the reader will react to the fact that Revali, Link and Sidon cheated on her. (something made me feel sad) Thank you in advance ╹▽╹

I'm so sorry something happened to upset you. If it's along the lines of this request give me a name😤👊 anyways thank you so much for requesting!! This ended up being so much longer than I intended but I'm pretty happy with it. I hope this is what you're looking for!

✨ requests are open✨

Warning: angst, cheating

Revali🐦

I think with his prickly nature not a lot of people would stick around long enough to get to know how much he cares

But some bitch saw how much he was training to perfect his powers to help Hyrule and couldn't resist

It started off as bringing him lunches and heat pads after a long day of training and then it escalated

They would wrap his wings up and suddenly he was letting them fix his braids. He never saw it as much more than a fan helping him out but you saw differently

It ended up in a big fight when you finally brought up how Revali was allowing this fan to hang off of him like they were his partner not you. You brought up excellent points like how he took such a long time to even trust you with braiding his hair and that he could at least let them know he's in a relationship.

Revali got upset (probably cuz ur right and he can't admit it) and snapped that at least they appreciated him

Yeah bad move. You walked out and bird brain left to train away the pain

You came across his first and decided to head to the shooting range with some peace snacks but what do you find?

You walk up the slope towards the archery range, a container of Revali's favourite snacks in hand. As you approach you see something sitting inside the hut and assume it's him. Sterling your breath you walk into the hut and what you find takes your breath away- not in the good way either. Revali sat there with his wings wrapped around them, too caught up on their liplock to notice you standing there.

CRASH

The container hits the ground with a shatter, ruining their little scene.

"Y/n-"

"Don't even try it." You wish your voice didn't sound as broken. No matter how much your heart squeezed in pain from the betrayal, you wanted to come off so much different- angrier. Because you were angry. "Just because we have an argument does not give you the right to run off with your new friend."

Revali flinches at the word and you feel a sick glimmer of satisfaction. He opens his mouth to protest, ignoring your glare. "I-I'm sorry." Your glare darkens and he immediately flounders for the right words. "You accused me of something I didn't do-"

Yeah, not the right words. You wish you could do something, anything to hurt him like he hurt you. But you had to be the bigger person no matter how much you wanted to snap that precious bow of his in half.

"I accused you, not have you permission."

"We can work through this, together" his wing reached out to you, but you recoiled to fast.

"We're not together." You walked towards the entrance "I hope it was worth it."

Link 🗡️

Link is a closed off person. Sure he has people worship him for his title as the hero of Hyrule, but he would never let that get to his head. You could tell this boy he's amazing and it still wouldn't get through his insecurities

Maybe it's cruel but, that almost reassured you he would never break your heart like that. You felt secure in your relationship

That's why it was so shocking when you found out he had fallen for Zelda.

It wasn't meant to ever be more than knight and princess. And you never should have found out.

You were walking towards the stables of your party was staying at. It was supposed to be a simple trip to complete some research out in the plains. Of course your trip was ambushed by an energetic princess who begged to come along for research purposes. You couldn't complain because the addition of the princess also came with your boyfriend Link.

Now you were looking for him outside the small ranch. You fully expected him to be caring for Epona like he always did after a long trip. His love for his horse was something you had always loved about him. The way he would stay later than everyone else to make sure she was okay. It had made stables kind of your spot. Hanging out at the end of a long day to talk and spend time together while caring for your steeds.

Maybe that was why your heart felt so utterly shattered when you did find him, standing next to the stable, with the princess in his arms. Maybe you could have fooled yourself into believing he was being friendly if he hadn't pressed a long loving kiss to her forehead followed by both her cheeks, chuckling softly as she giggled.

You knew they had always been close. I mean they spent all their time together. You'd just never thought that Link would do something like this to you.

You walked away from the stables fighting backs the tears in your eyes. It was only when you found you had walked into an older area, a spare shack outside, that you finally let the tears fall. Your heart twisted in pain as sobs tore from your throat.

Why hasn't you seen this? Why weren't you enough?

------

Your research trip was almost over. You had gone back late into the night to find Link on the edge of his bed head in his hands. He had shot up to demand where you had been when you finally walked in and although he looked like he wanted to argue, he accepted that you had been organizing your research supplies and notes in quiet.

That had been 3 days ago. You had spent the research trip sticking close to your colleagues, poring over each plant and testing their uses. The princess was too distracted with her own interests to really notice how you shied away from her presence. Link had though. And he was about done with you brushing him off in favour of your work. You both were busy so not having time was nothing new. But this was different. You couldn't meet his eyes and he had caught you staring at him and Zelda as if you were about to cry before. He was at a loss and now he needed to figure things out for himself.

However he wasn't quite ready for the answer.

"I saw you and Zelda together."

His throat closed up. He wanted to say so many things. How sorry he was. How he wished he could have told you himself. How he wished he could hold you and forget how complicated things were.

"it's okay." Now that, he wasn't expecting. "I thought I could be mad at you. Both of you. But I guess... It just makes sense." You sniffled softly. You really didn't want to do this. You hated that it had to be you who gave up. But we're you really going to fight? No. As much as it tore your heart into pieces, you would stand aside for them. "I wish that things hadn't changed but, clearly you don't feel the same anymore and I don't want to hold you back. I love you. So much. But I don't deserve this, and I won't put either of us through the trouble. I hope you two are happy together Link."

As you walked towards your friends to head home Link felt his heart clench. You deserved so much better.

Sidon🦈

You were a princess from another kingdom, betrothed to Prince Sidon of the Zora. We all know how these things go, neither of you were all that fond of the idea but you would go through with it. For your kingdoms

You tried to be as understanding as possible of the situations, knowing that the prince was just as trapped as you were. So you played along with your parents wishes.

You two went on dates and spent time together, getting closer and closer until finally you kissed him.

Things were great. You were planning your wedding and enjoying the time you spent with your fiance as you prepared for your future

It wasn't until a few days before the wedding when you were trying on your dress that things fell apart.

Your dressmaker had been in a bad mood, grumbling as they worked and even sticking you with needles a few times. You would have brushed it off as a bad day if not for the facts that they seemed so unapologetic.

You finally brought it up, softly asking if there was something wrong and if you could help. They snapped, going off about how you were ruining the princes life and that he didn't love you and was only marrying you for his kingdom and that he deserved to be happy.

They realized their mistake and left quickly, leaving you alone in your wedding dress with shocked tears slipping down your face.

You later made you way to Sidons office, hoping to clear some things up and maybe seek comfort from the one you loved.

What you didn't expect was to find him already comforting someone. Your dressmaker.

You watched as he whispered sweet nothings and reassurances to them. It was when he said no matter what they were the one that he loved when you broke away.

You stood in your room, packed bags beside you. You knew there were better ways to deal with this. You knew that your kingdom was counting on you and thus marriage. You just couldn't go through with it. Not anymore.

"Y/n?"

You sound around to find the Zora princess standing in your doorway. Mipha had become a close friend in your time in the Zora domain, even feeling like family as you worked closely planning the wedding. She had once told you that you were everything she could hope for in a sister and wife for her brother. You guessed it didn't matter in the end.

Finally you choked out pained words "I can't... I just... I can't do this anymore."

"If you are feeling nervous, I can assure you my brother would never hurt you."

This made you laugh. It was cold, similar to the ice creeping into your veins. "He would. And he did." You cut off Mipha's confusion, wringing a hand through your hair, "Sidon is in love with someone else. I made every effort to work through this engagement despite our... rocky beginning. But he didn't choose me back. He never wanted me, and I won't ruin his chance to be happy."

The room was silent after your outburst. You only noticed the tears when your friend wiped them from your eyes. She offered you a small smile, sharing the pain you felt. She was losing you and still understood it was best for you. You needed to move on and save yourself from a life of pain. A life of being chosen second.

"I hope one day we can meet again, sister."

You let out a choked mix of a son and laugh. Hugging the princess before you grabbed your bags and walked out the door, out of the kingdom that stole your heart and crushed it in its hands.

"I love you, always."

#loz x reader #loz link x reader #botw link x reader #legend of zelda link x reader #breath of the wild link x reader #link x reader #botw revali x reader #breath of the wild revali x reader #botw sidon x reader #breath of the wild sidon x reader #sidon x reader #revali x reader #asks #awkward responses #angst #cheating #botw x reader

[chateautae]

maybe i do | kth. I

➵ summary :  maybe you love each other, maybe you don’t. when a deal between your fathers leaves you forcefully wedding kim taehyung, arguably seoul’s most powerful CEO, you’re prepared for a loveless marriage of eternal regret and unhappiness. but maybe, it doesn’t turn out that way after all.

↳  part of the high-class series!

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

➵ genre :  arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, eventual smut, fluff, angst 

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 11k

➵ warnings : swearing, alcohol consumption, anxiety, lots of feels about marriage, a stupid ex (reader’s), mentions of bad sexual experiences with ex (there’s consent, just bad sex that makes the reader feel shitty), does ceo tae count as a warning? 

➵ a/n: hello my first fic of my favourite trope arranged marriage, AND with kim taehyung?? yes pls !! this will be a series and I’ll be actively working on it so you don’t have to wait too long for chapters, i hope you can follow this series with me <33

chapter one : “my forever’s falling down”  

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“Another one, Father? I thought I told you my secretary would be handling marriage profiles from now on. Stop concerning yourself with who I marry.” 

“But I do, son. Trust me, I know this girl, she’s the daughter of a trusted friend and I think she’s a good match.” 

“Father, everyone you choose for me I dislike and it’s distracting me from my work. I don’t need this right now.” 

“She’s different, Taehyung. I personally know her and I’m certain you won’t say no.” 

“And why is that?” 

“There’s something about her you won’t refuse, son, you’ll notice it when you meet her.” 

“I don’t want to meet her, Father. Like I said, I need to work.” 

“I just knew you’d act this way. Want to know something, son? I’ve made her part of a business deal, you can’t back out of this.”

“What? You made her part of a business deal?! Why would you-”

“Because you wouldn’t have given her a chance otherwise, you haven’t been giving anyone a chance since I’ve been setting up potential partners for you and I’m sick of it. You said you were open to an arranged marriage, where’s that attitude now?”

“Because, Father, I have a company to run and that’s-”

“No. I will not allow you to reduce your life to just this company. There are far more enjoyable things in life than a business.”

“But Father-”

“No, Taehyung. One thing you need to learn is balance. If you don’t give anyone or anything a chance you will live a lonely life behind your desk. Even in this cutthroat world of business where you can lose money or be betrayed by anyone at any moment, the most painful thing to suffer is loneliness, and I won’t let you live in this world alone.”

“Dad-”

“You will meet this girl, Taehyung, end of discussion.” 

“Dad! I told you I want nothing to do with your company, how could you let me get dragged into this?!” 

“Y/N-ie, I know you value the life you have without any of my help, but let me help just this once, especially with finding a husband. I’m being offered the deal of a lifetime and I can’t refuse, he just happens to be part of it. I need this for the company, please.”

“But Dad, I don’t even know him. And if he’s the CEO of some rich company he’s probably an asshole, I’m not doing this.” 

“Y/N-ie, trust me, I know his son. He’s a sincere, hard-working man, I promise.”

“Yeah, right. Even if that’s the case, I still don’t know him, let alone love him, Dad. How can you make me marry someone I don’t love?”

“Because you can learn to love him. There are no rules concerning the way two people should fall in love, love doesn’t always need to come first.”

“But Dad-”

“My daughter, I have not asked you for many things in my life, but this is one thing I must ask of you. Please, just meet him, don’t say no without even trying.”

“Dad, I don’t know-”

“Please, Y.N, do it for me. If not for the company or money, please do it for me.”

And here you were, fidgeting with the tips of your nails, tuning in and out of the present world and overthinking every aspect of your life that somehow lead you to this moment. Sitting on a Leather Italia couch in what was described to be Mr. Kim’s study; listening to your father’s incessant, albeit wholesome chatter next to you with your future in-laws across. 

And next to them was their suave, unreadable son sitting in a relaxed manner, flipping his attention between your fathers’ conversation and anything else in the room.

You on the other hand, were utterly high strung due to the fact that your father failed to mention your future fiancé’s identity until 30 minutes before arriving here, having done a quick search in the car to unveil who he exactly was.

And that’s when it hit you. You weren’t marrying just anyone, you were getting married to Kim Taehyung. The infamous CEO of Kim Enterprises—Korea’s largest software development and manufacturing company, rivaling to be one of the largest in the world. He was part of Seoul’s most prestigious circle of businessmen, having made multiple Forbes international lists of Most Successful, Youngest, Richest, and is even one of Korea’s most eligible bachelors, not just Seoul.

If this wasn’t already taking you out, then it was definitely the fact that his photos through a measly Google search did him absolutely, utterly and completely no justice. They simply could never capture the truth of just how handsome Kim Taehyung was in real life. You couldn’t deny it, he wasn’t just good-looking, he was stunning, gorgeous, seemed as though God had created the universe, heaven and hell in 6 days and left the 7th just to create him. 

He was like a work of art, worthy of being placed in the finest of museums and left untouched, unsodden by the ugliness of humanity. It made you feel extremely inferior to him in an instant. It was sickening, he was sickening, intoxicating, and quite frankly, intimidating.

It was his look, his undivided stare when he eventually settled his sight on you. It didn’t matter his dark hair that landed and perfectly curled above his eyes, the way he occasionally licked his plush lips or how his long, tall legs spread out before him, it was his look that made you want to turn tail and run.  

It seemed to reach into your soul, peer straight through whatever façade, walls or defense mechanisms you could spend years building only to have his simple look tear it down in minutes. He was alluring, captivating, left you wanting to cower into whatever hole you could dig yourself into or discover all the secrets he hid behind those enchanting eyes.

Kim Taehyung was many things you couldn’t quite wrap your head around, though you assessed your priorities and decided they didn’t just include him, but mainly the significance of the current meeting taking place right now. 

It wasn’t a mere one-time business deal to discuss a project, it was a meeting that entailed the partnership of both your family companies and would define the next however many years of your life. More specifically, spending it with the exact same man that looked at you without a single readable expression on his face. 

You distracted yourself by trying to observe as many useless things as you could, flitting around the room many times before suddenly glancing at Taehyung’s index finger coming up to rest against his lips.

You zeroed your vision in more. 

Is that a cut on his finger?

“Jae-in, of course! This is just as important to me as it is to you, your son is a remarkable CEO, and I’m sure he’ll make an amazing husband.” 

“Aish, Namhyun, you flatter me too much. My son may be handsome, though your daughter is even more beautiful. I’m very sure she will make a wonderful wife.”

“Yes, Namhyun, your daughter is absolutely gorgeous! Just as gorgeous as her mother. I know she wasn’t able to make it, though may I ask where your wife is tonight?” 

“Ah, unfortunately, she’s out of the country. Though I was hoping my presence would be enough to fill in for her, am I doing a bad job?” 

Laughter erupted from the parents in the room, meanwhile, Taehyung couldn’t help but notice the way you immediately winced at the mention of your mother. Something he definitely wouldn’t miss with the way he found himself examining your every move. 

It was habitual to him, something born out of his roots in business, only for the purpose of calculating and reading people like an open book. 

He knew you’d also become victim to that habit, though oddly enough, he found himself quite interested in observing you. He had already figured you out; you hated business, there was a clear disconnection between yourself and your father’s company and you reeked of a sense of independence that funnily contradicted the antsy way you bounced your leg. 

Your way of speech, however, mannerisms, gestures, your look; it was all professional enough you clearly have some sort of background in business. You seemed like an heiress to Taehyung, which you were, though you oddly had no interest in business?   

All these details piqued his interest, curious of just who you exactly were, but he was mainly intrigued by the mysterious claim his father made upon mentioning you for the first time. 

‘There’s something about her you won’t refuse.’

That had raked Taehyung’s brain consistently for the past hour now, crossing his legs loosely and his arms folded over his chest, contemplating over and over again as he looked at you, what’s so damn special about her? 

‘You’ll notice it when you meet her,’ the words rang in his ears.

That was the driving force behind his calculation, observation, near inability to take his eyes off of you as he learned new things nearly every minute and led him closer to understanding his father.  

He could tell you were an anxious person, though hid it behind a persona of false confidence. You had a tendency to stick close to your father despite observing you don’t rely on him for much of anything, even less your mother. The softness behind your every movement despite being from a business background where you should be harsh, rigid, rough around the edges, and yet you seemed entirely different.

Taehyung then realized how inherently dissimilar you were to many of the other women he met. They were all relatively of the same cut and look. Cold, sharp, cunning. All women of pure business; daughters, granddaughters or straight CEOs of wealthy companies, simply interested in marriage as a deal or an advantage rather than a commitment. 

And there was absolutely nothing wrong with that. Taehyung was a man of business himself, married to his work, his home behind a desk and the company the only thought occupying his mind 24/7.

But with you, you were interesting, unlike the others and it made him curious.

Taehyung also couldn’t help but notice you were...pretty. You weren’t too overly sexy nor too innocent, you were pretty. There was an elegance to your looks, features like your hair and eyes complementing you as a whole, and he couldn’t miss that you felt oddly...warm.

Taehyung found himself beginning to understand his father’s original viewpoint, considering the possibility he could’ve been correct. 

You just seemed different. 

“Ah, that seems to be everything. Exact details about the wedding have already been put in place by us.”

“Yes! We’ve been waiting for our TaeTae to get married for so long. We’ve had plans for months now and we can finally move forward with them! You and Y/N don’t need to worry about anything!” 

“Mom, did you really just call me that in front of my future fiancé?” 

“Oh, let it go, son. It won't be long before she calls you that, too!” 

Taehyung could only playfully roll his eyes at his overly excited mother, you scrunching your nose at the embarrassment.

“That’s incredibly generous of you, Mr. and Mrs. Kim, though my conscience is not one to let such things go. My family should contribute to the wedding in some way. Y/N and I would be happy to do so.”

“Why don’t we discuss that outside? I believe we should give the future couple some time alone, shall we?” 

You and Taehyung exchanged a quick look before standing up and respectively addressing either’s parents, Taehyung shutting the door behind them once they exited and having turned to look at you, an awkward silence piercing the air. 

There it was again, his look. It was irrefutably the one reason you avoided eye contact with him, you felt he would swallow you up if you shared even 5 seconds between each other.

“So...” Taehyung suddenly broke the ice, eyeing you.

“So...” 

“Marriage, huh?” 

“Yeah, marriage. Never done that one before.” If there wasn’t a time you vehemently hated yourself, then it was undoubtedly now. You internally facepalmed at your dumb comment, adding a laugh at the end in embarrassment only to look away. 

“Uh..yeah.” Taehyung laughed awkwardly. “Me neither, if you didn’t already know.” He tucked his hands into his pockets and looked away, you fidgeting by the couches everyone previously occupied. 

A beat of silence passed as you both exchanged looks between objects in the room and each other, either of you pursing your lips or blowing light raspberries to cut the awkwardness. 

“I wanted to ask you something.” 

“Hm?” You turned towards him, lips just a pout as your doe-eyes awaited him. 

Taehyung didn’t miss that at all. 

“Um, your mother. I apologize if this is intrusive of me, though I couldn’t help but notice I’ve never actually met her. May I ask where she is?” 

You let out a dry chuckle before answering, another detail that didn’t slip Taehyung’s attention. “Trust me, Taehyung, one thing you’ll never have to worry about during this entire ordeal is my mother. She should be the last thing on your mind.” You assured him with what he could tell was your fakest smile, distracting him from the realization you’d said his name for the first time.

“Are you sure? I’ll be meeting her at the wedding so-”

“You won’t. I don’t think you will. Even if she does make it, it takes very little to impress her, just be yourself and she’ll love you.” You stated with a sense of finality, as though the topic should be dropped. 

“Be myself? I’m one of the best businessmen in Korea. It’s my job to get people to like me, easy stuff.” He casually gloated. 

“You don’t only have to be a businessman to do that,” you paused and looked at him, “you can just be Kim Taehyung, too.” You spoke nonchalantly, eyes lingering with his for longer than 5 seconds and he, in fact, had not swallowed you yet. 

Taehyung instantly furrowed his eyebrows, taken aback as if your suggestion was something outlandish, absurd, maybe even offending.

Nobody has ever said such a thing to him, not throughout the entirety of his life. 

Taehyung tried his best to recover, searching for another topic of conversation before he was cut off by your rather soft voice, he noticed. 

“Oh, I wanted to give you this.” You stepped towards him, reaching into your purse and retrieving something Taehyung couldn’t quite see. You strided over and extended your hand, Taehyung finding himself even more confused.

“A bandage?” 

“Mhm. For the cut on your finger. You should probably clean it and apply something before putting this on.” You stated nonchalantly once again, offering him a small smile whilst holding out the bandage. 

“Uh...” Taehyung started but couldn’t complete his sentence, lost on how you even observed something as small as his cut and spoke of treating it like it was an actual injury.  

After his struggle to form a sentence, you grew bold enough to gently remove his hand from his pocket and place the bandage in his palm, looking back up at him. You shared a momentary look with his chocolate eyes, instantly scrambling after realizing your hand was still in his.

He has really big hands. 

“We should um...probably go.” You avoided his eyes, stepping aside quickly to pull the door open.

Taehyung’s mind felt displaced, eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the fact that someone had actually left him with nothing to say, an extremely rare occurrence in his book.

He was even more displaced looking at the measly wrapper in his hand, then at the cut on the side of his finger, playing through the last 5 minutes of what just happened.

He scoffed to himself.

‘There’s something about her you won’t refuse.’

It had been 3 weeks since that meeting, not having seen Taehyung once as you wasted your time enjoying single life luxuries before you prepared for one of marriage.

It still felt odd to say such a thing, marriage, because it didn’t even feel like one, or a real one at that. It was forced, fake, a pressured one out of convenience. It felt more like a deal, something Taehyung and yourself had to settle for in order to keep your parents’ minds at ease.

That thought racked your brain all those 3 weeks; Taehyung had to settle for you, he didn’t choose you, just as much as you settled for him and didn’t choose him either. You both had ultimately agreed to the marriage only in an effort to optimize your parents’ happiness, not your own.

You had no clue how he felt, a mystery as much as the Bermuda Triangle, knowing he most certainly had a grand pick of women to choose from and you were most definitely his worst option.

You knew you were suddenly dumped on him, leaving him no choice in the matter as you learned your marriage entailed a beneficial business deal between your fathers’ companies, and Taehyung couldn’t really refuse you with so much on the line.

You had already felt inferior to Taehyung since the moment you met him, though your insecurities seeped further into the crevices of your doubtful mind the more you thought over that sad fact, contemplating a married life with him. In your opinion you were pretty much undesirable to him, Taehyung probably kicking himself knowing he had to unwillingly call you his wife for the rest of his life. 

You just knew you weren’t good enough for him, you would never measure up no matter how hard you’d try and that utterly terrified you. You were confident and independent when it came to yourself, though wedding a near perfect being regarded as one of Seoul’s finest in terms of a CEO and a man? 

Confidence be damned, this dude was intimidating. 

These were the feelings that swarmed your head as you sulked at your over-the-top engagement party, set up in a prestigious buildings’ gorgeous 37th floor riddled with baroque styling and embellishments, classical music gracing some of Seoul’s wealthiest patrons as their flutes clinked and snobby chatter filled the hall. 

It was all extremely high-status, reeking of upper class supremacy and quite frankly, it made you want to throw up.

You distracted yourself by bringing any and all types of alcohol to your lips, trying to focus on anything but your daunting thoughts.

The entire night you hadn’t talked to Taehyung, both of you having been too occupied with the numerous amounts of people meeting and congratulating you. This became a genuine nuisance as you’d mentioned before, this marriage was of convenience, one that brought families and companies together merrily and constituted hundreds of people attending your engagement party you didn’t really know.

Your friends were excited, over-the-moon you bagged a man like Taehyung and chastised you for not having told them about your engagement to him earlier. Your relatives similarly scolded you, pinching your cheeks and praising Taehyung like he was a God while they scrunched their noses at you for concealing him.

How could I tell you when I didn’t even know myself?, you thought.

It was funny they praised your ‘choice’ of a fiancé, positive nobody was saying the same to Taehyung without at least lying. The public only knew of you as your father’s daughter, never having seen you due to your vehement absence from anything remotely related to his company, and much of the business world in general. 

You weren’t part of that world, a world of greed and money-driven lunatics. It just wasn't you. It never suited you, left you with a bad taste in your mouth you constantly grimaced at and thought maybe you were the insane one for not understanding its flavour. As you grew older, however, you came to realize it simply wasn’t the path meant for you, someone who valued the independence and achievement of earning something for yourself, by yourself.

Ever since the inception of that principal, your young teenage self resolved you didn’t want to rely on your father’s wealth, especially not his influence or power to achieve your own place in life.

Your father had worked determinedly hard for years in order to stand as high he does now, warranting your acute admiration for your role model of a father, his now successful architecture business landing him a few buildings part of the Seoul skyline.

And after finally achieving his dream, it suddenly morphed into your own aspiration. His hard work drove you to want your own design part of Seoul’s breathtaking scenery as well, by means of your own effort, your own hard work. You didn’t want your father’s help. It felt wrong, like you were cheating if you used him to gain your place and so you condemned your life to one that separated yours and his. 

So you lived, worked and earned money without any of his influence.

You worked for an average architecture company where you felt comfortable, happy that you were away from the suffocating high-status business of your family. And although your detachment left your identity a mystery to many, your situation on the other hand was an extremely infamous one.

‘The-runaway-heiress’, was your staple trademark. The judgmental comments about your choice of life and the insults it warranted were never-ending, subjected to that criticism all your life.

There was no doubt Taehyung was hearing all of that, people probably warning him to step out of the marriage before it was too late. You weren’t like Taehyung, who was perfect, desirable, someone everyone either wanted or wanted to be. It left you glad and quite frankly, proud to be wedding a man of such caliber and incredibility, though left you wondering why in God’s name he would ever agree to marry someone like you; average, average and well, average.

“That’s your 5th shot, Y/N, slow the fuck down.” Your best friend Hana’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, snatching the shot glass from your grasp. “It wouldn’t be cool if you were trashed at your own party, dummy.” 

Her sudden appearance brought a smile to your face. “I know, I just don’t feel well.” You sighed by the counter of the bar, seated atop a stool as you circled an empty shot glass mindlessly. 

“I get you, there’s like, hundreds of people here and you’re probably hearing a lot of different shit.” Hana appealed to you, having read your emotions like an open book. “Speaking of people, I wanted to ask, what’s up with Taehyung and his stare?”

You stifled a snort, looking at Hana’s incredulous face. “It’s just a habit of his. He stares at everyone.”

“Okay... sure, but I didn’t mean everyone, I meant you.” Hana emphasized, comically pointing.

You furrowed your eyebrows at her, arm leaning against the bar’s counter as you questioned, “What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t really stop staring at you, which is kinda weird. Unless you like that, I don’t judge people’s kinks.” Hana mockingly held her hands up in surrender, gauging a reaction out of you. 

You instantly grimaced, “It’s not a kink, Hana. Nice joke by the way, wanna sign up for SNL with that one?”

“I’m serious! I’ve been catching him just looking at you and I don’t know if it’s weird or hot.” Hana informed as you became more puzzled, her becoming oddly excited, “Awh, maybe he’s concerned with how much you keep drinking! That’s so romantic.” She chimed, looking off into the distance dreamily.

“Shut the fuck up, he wouldn’t do that.” You smacked her arm, snatching your shot glass back from her. “Besides, you’re one of the rare people who knows this marriage is fake, you know he doesn’t care.”

“Jheez, way to kill romance?” Hana rolled her eyes, smacking your arm in rebuttal before continuing. “I’m serious, though. This may be fake but he really does keep looking at you, and I don’t know what it means.” Hana speculated, contorting her lips as if in thought.

“It means nothing, Hana. You’re just seeing things.”

“Then why has he been staring at you depressed by the bar for the last half an hour?”

You nearly spit out your drink, “What?”

“Are you clueless or just dumb? He’s been talking to someone for 30 minutes but most of the time he’s been looking at you, and he still is, how haven’t you noticed?”

You creased your eyebrows in surprise as you slowly lowered your shot glass. You turned away from Hana to scan the small crowds of people mingling, eating, drinking in the hall.

You searched the room, drink still in hand until your eyes caught tall, dark and handsome in his finely pressed suit, casually standing with a drink in his hand by a table speaking to someone. You nearly jumped when your eyes locked with Taehyung’s, every cell in your body caught off guard.

What made your heart specifically race was the way he didn’t even look away from you. He held your gaze, casually conversing with the person in front of him, eyeing you until he finally cracked a small smirk before turning back to his companion.

Your eyebrows practically shot up to the sky.

“See, weird or hot? Am I even allowed to say hot?” Hana blurted as she reveled in your reaction. “And you really thought I was joking. You don’t believe anything I say, I could tell you the world’s ending and you wouldn’t believe me. I could tell you aliens finally invaded the planet and you wouldn’t believe me until the green motherfuckers knocked on your door themselves and-”

“Hana, shut the fuck up.” You cut her off abruptly and made a face at her. “Why did you even come here?”

“Grumpy, aren’t we?” She flashed you a sarcastic look before sighing. “Your dad wanted me to find you. You and Taehyung have to meet someone important, so you should stop drinking like an alcoholic, dumbass.” Hana informed hastily as she grabbed the shot glass from you and downed it herself.

“Your dad’s by the entrance, go before he gets mad!” She shooed you away, pushing you up until you whisper-yelled and smacked at her to let you go. 

You began stepping towards the entrance, smoothing over your dress and this was the moment you realized you may have drank a little too much. You were quick to reprimand yourself, cursing your unprofessional behavior as your inner equilibrium became slightly woozy, senses drowning out a bit, every sound hazed over with a buzz in your veins.

You sucked in a breath to pull yourself together, knowing your dad valued this person enough you and Taehyung had to meet them together. 

Taehyung.

You decided to glance in his direction, lips pursing seeing he wasn’t in his previous spot. You chose to ignore it, walking along until you felt a looming presence behind you, almost having time to acknowledge it before a hand suddenly touched the small of your back. 

“Looking for me?”

You nearly squealed, jumping with a hand ready to punish before calming down at the sight of Taehyung, sighing with relief. “Jheez, could you use my name? I thought you were a stranger.” 

“Well, hello to you too.” Taehyung quipped sarcastically. “And why would a stranger touch your back? Of course it’d be the only man in this room marrying you.” Taehyung narrowly eyed you, scrutinizing your reaction with his hand still pressed to you.

“People do a lot of whatever the hell they want, Taehyung.” You responded turning away from him, heels clacking as you continued to pace towards where your father stood. “W-why’d you do that, anyway?” 

Taehyung furrowed his eyebrows. “Because we’re engaged?”

“It’s not real, though.”

“It’s as real as it gets.” Taehyung finalized, making it a statement to smile at everyone you passed, to which you realized just how many pairs of eyes glued themselves to you. “This may not feel like a real marriage to us, but to the rest of the world it is.” 

He then suddenly leaned himself down to your height and lowered his tone, breath just ghosting your ear. “Y/N, we have to make this seem real, it’s the only way we’ll survive.” Taehyung was the closest he’s ever been to you, and the deep baritone of his voice as he called your name did absolutely nothing but manifest butterflies in your chest. 

Why was his voice so deep?

You shook the thought out of your head, ultimately choosing not to say anything because he was in fact, correct. You grinned widely continuing to mask the truth of your arrangements, leaning into him more as you settled for his hand on your back.

You’d noticed it before, but his hand felt particularly large against you now that he was so close. You glanced at his other hand resting by his side, impressed by how masculine they appeared; long fingers with running veins and a roughness to them, sculpted so well you were sure they deserved to be referred to as art. It tickled your giddy side for a second when they seemed to perfectly contrast your more feminine and smaller hands. 

It was kinda cute. 

You neglected your thoughts once you neared your father, warm-heartedly conversing with a well-dressed man you just about recognized. 

“Ah, there you both are!” Your father cheered, reaching out his arm so he could envelop you in a side-hug, returning Taehyung’s bow and addressment.  

“Dad, I heard you wanted us to meet someone?” You perked up in a superficial tone, at least attempting to act as though everything was fine and dandy in your life; maybe owing it to the alcohol to endure all the falsehoods.

“Yes, Y/N-ie, I wanted you to meet Mr. Won. Chang-in, my lovely daughter and whom I guess you already know, her fiancé and CEO of Kim Enterprises, Kim Taehyung.” Your father proudly presented you both.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Won, Kim Taehyung.” Taehyung was the first to address the man, extending his hand and bowing as he greeted him. You were almost taken aback by how polite he could be, the way his charming smile graced his features and attractively displayed his perfect teeth. His manner of speech and etiquette were all refined with a high degree of professionalism as well, internally gawking at his duality.  

Wasn’t he acting all entitled with you just now? 

“Nice to meet you as well!” You collected yourself and cheered, a little baffled as to why Taehyung still rested his hand against your back. “I’m hoping my father has only said good things.” You earned a laugh from the group, Mr. Won responding by receiving your hand with a firm shake. 

“Ah, Namhyun, you forgot to mention how beautiful your daughter has grown, and your future son-in-law has me jealous! What a handsome and accomplished young man, the perfect match, the two of them.” Mr. Won praised you both kindly.

You and Taehyung both smiled and thanked him humbly, feeling some heat collect in your cheeks upon Mr. Won’s words. You two? The perfect match? Unless he believes a rock and a Greek statue belong together, then he’s absolutely correct. 

Other than that, you chest swarms with butterflies thinking you’re now referred to as ‘two’. 

Taehyung for some odd reason encircles the curve of your waist suddenly, pulling you closer to him. You last minute sputter at the intimate action before leaning into him, one arm nervously encasing his torso as the other rests against his chest. 

You feel him tense underneath you. 

“Aish, you’re such a flatterer. Y/N-ie, do you remember Mr. Won? My friend from university? You haven’t seen him in a while.” Your father rested a hand on your shoulder, trying to jog your memory. 

“Oh, you mean Mr. Won from SNU?” You suddenly remembered, looking to your father for confirmation. 

“Yes, so you do remember!” 

“Of course I do, how could I forget!” You smiled brightly and returned your gaze to the familiar man. “Mr. Won used to sneak me ice cream when you wouldn’t let me have any, Dad.” You scolded him with a playful jab to his arm, inviting more laughter. “I apologize for not recognizing you right away, it’s been a long time, Mr. Won, forgive me.” You solemnly apologized, Mr. Won giving you a look of understanding. 

“Ah, forget it, Y/N. Don’t worry about it, although since it’s been a long time I hope you remember my son? He should be here somewhere..” Mr. Won trailed as his eyes fished over the grand hall, scanning around. 

“Your son..” You repeated to yourself, realizing there was a familiar connection itching at your mind, he was your age actually-

Wait. 

Oh God, not him. 

Anything but him. 

You felt raw panic seep into the spaces between your ribs, your chest filling with a constricting feeling of anxiety you couldn't shake off. Your heart picked up speed and the alcohol coursing through your veins didn’t help your judgement or memory at all, mind fogged over with the poison we dare call alcohol.  

You felt stupid, so utterly stupid. How could you forget Mr. Won and who his Godforsaken son was? 

You felt an anxiety attack riddling you, shifting your weight on your feet as you tried to bite back your uneven breathing. You just couldn’t see this man, especially in a situation where you were standing next to your husband-to-be. 

Taehyung wasn’t so invested in the conversation before him, mindlessly nodding along before he felt you physically freeze next to him, his glance to the side confirming your pale look, watching as your panicked eyes faltered to the floor and revealed... fear? 

He registered your odd shifting and your failed attempts at plastering a smile, confused if you knew this guy and if you did, why were you freaking out so much?

Were you in love with him or something? 

The thought minutely bugged him until he watched you turn straight up uncomfortable, horrified when Mr. Won called out his son’s name. 

“Kiseok-ah! Come here!” 

You stopped breathing when you heard the name, eyes going wide as you avoided eye contact with anyone in the group, but caught Taehyung’s undivided attention. He grew curious when Kiseok sauntered over to the group, your hand on his chest suddenly squeezing his suit as the mysterious man greeted everyone respectfully.

Taehyung watched as his intrigued eyes locked on you, eyebrows perking up amusedly as his lips curved into a smile Taehyung honestly couldn’t admit to liking. 

“Y/N? Wow, long time no see. It’s been what, a year?” The man Kiseok called out happily, like there was absolutely no problem occurring here but as Taehyung felt your hand clutch onto his suit, lips just about quivering before you forced a smile, he knew there was most certainly a problem. 

“Yeah.” Your voice was weak, small, and Taehyung found himself wondering how a courageous person like you was all of a sudden cowering. 

He’d heard it all night, all the accounts of your other life away from the business world. He wasn’t going to lie, he heard a multitude of opinions concerning you, many of which including either looking down on you or telling Taehyung there’s many other, more powerful women in business he could’ve been marrying instead. 

But Taehyung didn’t care for their opinions, he found you the most powerful woman he could ever marry, and agreed to do so because of that very prospect. Sure, you were estranged from the business scene and practically abandoned any role you’d play in your father’s company in order to pursue your own personal aspirations, but if anything, Taehyung found it highly commendable. 

Taehyung knew it took guts to do what you did, a bold and daring act that no other heir or future heir of a wealthy company could ever think of doing, including himself. 

What he found to appreciate most was your unwillingness to give in, where you had to have heard all the back-handed and snobby comments, yet you still held your head up high, remained rooted and adamant in keeping your current way of life. It instantly signaled to him you were courageous, fearless, unable to be stopped in your tracks.

So when he watched you become smaller and smaller the more you stood in the vicinity of this Kiseok, he knew something was sincerely wrong. 

“Ah yes, it’s been quite some time. Why don’t we step away from you three? You could do some catching up.” Your father urged as he motioned Mr. Won to step away with him. You lightly addressed them only to have your hands neglect Taehyung entirely and start fidgeting, attempting to calm your nerves as the alcohol inebriated your system and magnified your anxiety by tenfold. 

“Ah, yes, Kim Taehyung, CEO of Kim Enterprises. I’ve been meaning to meet you.” Kiseok extended his hand as his voice irked you with every syllable, trying your best to seem like absolutely nothing was wrong. 

Taehyung reached out his hand in response uneagerly, giving a small shake while wondering why you let him go. “That’s news to me, nice to meet you.” Taehyung responded, already feeling an intense aura of discomfort and tension between you both, sensing he was missing out on something that seemed 6 ft deep. 

“Likewise. Y/N..” Kiseok suddenly turned towards you, making you wince. You painted on your smile as you lifted your vision. “Kiseok.” 

“How’ve you been?” 

“Better than ever. You?” 

“Marvelous, just wondering what your life’s looked like since I haven’t been in it.”

“I believe I said better than ever, didn’t I?”

Kiseok scoffed unamused, “So a year, huh? In all that time you suddenly found yourself a fiancé, and Kim Taehyung at that?” Kiseok seemed to be making light-hearted conversation to anyone outside of your group, though you knew deep down the hostility behind his words.

“Yeah, I did. It just happened.” You shrugged, gaining the confidence to counter him. “And you? Plan on putting a ring on any of your girls? Maybe the 5th or 7th one you liked?” You sarcastically questioned, furrowing your brows in mock contemplation. 

“No, you know I’ve always had my eye on one girl when it came to marriage.” Kiseok eyed you knowingly, purposefully, like he was trying to make it obvious.

You snorted and glared at him, “If I remember correctly, your attitude said otherwise.” hatred began boiling under your skin. You felt yourself growing angrier by the second, memories between you two coming back in flashes. You didn’t even realize you were shaking until Taehyung’s hand suddenly entangled with yours, pulling you towards him almost defensively. 

You were surprised, looking at your connected hands and back up at Taehyung. He returned your look, peering down at you as he smiled warmly, affectionately. 

“I’m sorry, Kisook? Was it? My future wife and I have plans for tonight. May you excuse us?” Taehyung didn’t even let Kiseok respond before he was pulling you away, in complete shock at his first lack of manners you’d ever seen. You were only left to watch Taehyung as he lead you along, gaining the timely opportunity to realize he was taller than Kiseok, and in fact significantly taller than you. 

Taehyung was a large man in general, you noticed. His shoulders looked broad from behind, accentuated by the fit of his suit which also emphasized the expanse of his chest, tastefully exposing his sculpted neck. His legs were long, proportioned perfectly in accordance with the rest of his model-like figure, which was ideally fit and contained just the right amount of muscle. 

Dear God, you took your time with this one. 

You didn’t even realize Taehyung had pulled you into a secluded hallway or that you were ogling him when he suddenly stopped, turning in your direction and snapping you out of a near fever dream. 

Yeah, alcohol was not a good idea tonight. 

“Who the fuck was that?” 

“What?”

“That douche, who was that?” Taehyung inquired slightly pissed, in need of the asshole’s identity after watching whatever shitshow he didn’t pay for. 

“Nobody, Taehyung, he shouldn’t concern you.” You looked away from him, pouting in a way that made Taehyung momentarily notice the plush of your lips. 

Again?, was all he could think, first, your mother, and now this guy? Just how many people did you have bad connections with and he needed to ignore? 

Why were there so many intricate pieces to you? 

“Are you kidding me? He concerns me now, your mother I can understand but this guy? Nothing to me. I could step on him.” Taehyung proclaimed confidently and stood up broader, conviction written all over his face.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his remark, resembling the thought you had earlier. “I was just thinking, you’re a lot taller than him.” 

Taehyung couldn’t help but bite back a smile, watching you giggle like a shy high schooler and his ears gladly welcomed the soft sound. “Damn straight I am.” He adjusted the jacket of his suit suavely. It was then he remembered what his other hand was doing; still holding yours. 

His eyes suddenly gleamed with mischief. 

He squeezed your hand a little tighter and yanked you towards him, bodies just centimeters apart as you crashed into him, all up in each other’s personal space.

Your eyes widened in complete surprise. 

 “So you were thinking about me, huh?” Taehyung teased with a stupidly lowered tone, a smug grin decorating his face. 

You ignored the electricity shooting through you, rolling your eyes and playfully sneering at him. “Shut up, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see you’re taller.” You forced space between you two and tried snatching your hand from him, but his grip transformed into an iron lock. 

“Says the one who was thinking about me.” 

“Taehyung, shut-” You almost huffed out but as soon as you stepped away, your copious consumption of alcohol suddenly attacked you all at once, vertigo making you lose your balance until Taehyung reached out to steady you. 

“Jheez, did you have to drink tonight?” Taehyung chastised you as you fell into him, head spinning with disorientation and growing flimsier by the second. “You’re probably a lightweight at your size.”

“I am not a lightweight. You don’t even know how much I drank, it was a lot.” You bit back in rebuttal, hooking onto his taut forearms as he supported you. 

“But I did see.” He voiced barely above a whisper, causing you to snap your vision up at him incredulously. “What?” 

“Nothing, it shouldn’t concern you.” Taehyung mocked, though still tried to fix you onto your own footing.  

You didn’t even get to scrutinize him further when you felt another round of dizziness plague you, balance faltering again. Taehyung huffed out and finally flanked you on his side, arm encasing your shoulders as he adjusted you. “Okay Miss I’m-Not-A-Lightweight, you should eat something.” He fit you beside him, beginning to walk you towards the main hall. 

Taehyung in this moment didn’t understand what he was doing, utterly clueless as to what was fueling his actions. He was uncertain why he found himself.. caring? He didn’t even know you, yet he couldn’t help but become a little concerned when he watched you down drinks like it was New Year’s Eve. 

How can all that alcohol fit into one tiny person?

What was he even thinking when he dragged you away from that Kisuk guy? Why did he feel like protecting you all of a sudden? A near sense of possessiveness? He wasn’t even your real husband. 

It started giving Taehyung a headache. This was all strange, a foreign concept he wasn’t familiar with and he didn’t know if it was the result of his considerate personality or only manifested solely because of you.

The same way Taehyung dealt with his inner turmoil, you dealt with yours; you were always so adamant on independence though ironically found yourself leaning on Taehyung.

Oddly, you let him carefully guide you back into the hall with no protests. 

It was the day of the wedding. 

You wish you could recall your emotions throughout the day, certain there would be at least a sliver of a positive one. Though as you remained unmoving, nearly catatonic, unresponsive to your surroundings, you knew there wouldn’t be a single happy memory in the tsunami of sorrow that attacked you today. 

Emotions of grief plagued consistently as you realized the loss of everything you valued most in your life. Your happiness, your freedom, your ability to choose. The stripping of all those bundled into an stifling wad in your chest that left you in a perpetual state of wanting to cry.

The sting in your heart when you realized your mother didn’t bother to come, the excruciating smile you forced onto your features when Taehyung’s mother delicately placed the veil atop your head, the secret tears you shed after adorning your body with a wedding dress you didn’t even choose; it all left you internalizing feelings of utter agony. 

And none of it was your real choice. 

Even the flowers at the wedding weren’t your favourite. 

This day was horrifying. You couldn’t believe you prided yourself on your independence, refusing to give in despite numerous challenges and never taking a word of what anyone said to you. Even when someone begged you to change or come back to your old life, you always chose for yourself. You never allowed someone to push you around, seldom coerced into anything solely based on the wishes of another. 

Yet here you were, standing just before the grand doors of a wedding you never asked for, having easily followed every word of your father’s and sacrificed your deepest principles in order to make him happy, to appease and live up to his expectations that weren’t your own. 

It was utterly frightening, appalling. As if you had lost the one true commendable feature of the intricate character you were, suddenly lost the acclamation of others even if they didn’t know the true nature of your marriage. 

But what disgusted you the most was truly, that you had lost respect for yourself. 

These grim thoughts were the ones that attached themselves to you as you hesitantly hooked your arm with your father’s. You used every ounce of strength to not flee, to remain here, to still walk down that isle with your head held high like you always have despite abandoning every foundation of the character you’d spent years working on.  

You didn’t care that your eyes watered, masking them with the facade of happy tears from the blushing bride. You didn’t care when your father looked incredibly concerned and wondered what was so wrong, you didn’t care how sorrowful you may have appeared to anyone at this ironically glamorous event. 

Though what you did care for was that you couldn’t hold your head up as you walked down the isle, vision fixated on the ground as your tears betrayed you, spilling out at the traumatizing feeling of not being able to stand tall like you always did, something stripping you of your self-reassurance, your strength, your confidence.  

It all spelled the requiem of your soul as you reached the end, dwelling in the impossibility this was happening to you until you felt the touch of Taehyung’s fingertips, guiding you up the stairs. It was then confirmed to you this was in fact real, part of your new reality you had no choice but to accept. 

You suddenly felt eternal gratitude for the veil that now covered your face, hiding the tears you cried at mourning the loss of everything you worked for.

While the priest’s words were read, you didn’t exchange a single look with Taehyung, knowing you’d only want to evaporate into the air, to run away at light speed or have someone in a turn-of-events suddenly take your life, just so you didn't have to face the humility of giving up the life you’d spent blood, sweat and tears building if you looked him in the eye. 

You felt the weight of your unknown future crushing you, pushing you towards the precipice as you gripped Taehyung’s hands harder to ground yourself. 

You were to rely on Taehyung, to share a bond with him you had never spent time cultivating, expected to live a life next to him while never being able to truly understand him, know him, love him. The natural process of falling in love now tainted with the coercion of a pressurized marriage, losing the opportunity to achieve any true sense of love. You’d never experience finding the one anymore, your soulmate, the other end of your red string of fate. 

That realization made your tears spill harder, disconnecting your hand from Taehyung’s to prevent your choked sobs becoming audible, holding your palm against your quivering lips. 

To anyone beyond you and Taehyung, it would look as though you were crying tears of happiness, joyously weeping at your matrimony with the love of your life, though as Taehyung felt the shaking of your hands, your refusal to meet his gaze as you reluctantly walked down the isle, the agonizing pain he could see through the sheer of your veil, he knew you were far from happy. 

He couldn’t help but purse his lips together tightly, knowing you were probably swallowing insurmountable torment down your throat because of this marriage, and tears pricked at his own eyes finding himself able to relate. 

He wasn’t just upset for you or himself, it was the entire situation, quite frankly the fucking world. The fact that the universe planned this as your destiny, his destiny, that the happiness of your parents and two companies came at the expense of both yours and his.

He knew you didn’t hate him, that he wasn’t the reason just as much as you weren’t the reason either, it was the arbitrary nature of the arrangement. That whatever version of true love and happily ever after you and Taehyung had separately dreamed of, it could never come to life. 

Even if the company meant everything to Taehyung, his CEO position more important than whatever position he’d play as some husband, seldom having time to consider love and relationships, he still harboured the same wants and desires any human would. A partner, a companion he truly loved with whom he’d start a family eventually, create a life for them and himself defined by love and comfort.

Though Taehyung only knew now you would both die with your decision-making capabilities robbed of you, bound to each other forcibly without the ardor of real love. 

Taehyung’s every thought was proven correct when the two of you exchanged your vows in near strangled chokes and shaky tones, appearing as happy emotions to the guests of the wedding though only you two knowledgeable of each other’s suffering. 

Your vision finally met Taehyung’s once you heard the rawness in his voice, your miserable emotions doubling when you registered he was just in the same pain as you. It was in that moment the priest’s words became audible and rang loud in both your ears, suddenly grounding you two to earth and reminding you of your reality. 

“You may kiss the bride.”

Both of your eyes grievously locked for a moment of horrified realization; that you were seconds away from going through with this, throwing each other’s lives away for the utilitarian benefit, abandoning any sense of choice in whom you both would spend a lifetime with.

Taehyung swallowed thickly as he removed your veil, feeling his eyes fill with tears again when he laid them upon your utterly devastated, tear-stained face. You were using every nerve in your body to stop yourself from sobbing and caving into the ominous thought of fleeing the ceremony.  

Taehyung’s sight wondered to your lips as they still quivered, nearly swollen red at the intensity in which you bit them, awaiting the kiss you were certain would be filled with frustration and hatred, hatred for the mud you were dragging him through, hatred for pressuring him into suddenly valuing something more than his work and his company, to suddenly become a husband to you. 

Though as he watched the terror flashing through your eyes, tears watering your lash line, he knew he could never feel anything so ardently negative towards you, remembering exactly what he was stripping you of. 

The life you built on your own, defying any and everyone’s expectations of yourself, cursing your heir status to hell, your strength, your independence. Now? Your life was bound to his, bound to one where you were obliged to sacrifice yourself for your father’s company and the upper class cesspool you’d spent so long trying to run away from. 

So as Taehyung began closing the gap between you two, nearing your shaking figure, he resolved he wouldn’t make this hard. He would try, try to accept that his life now entailed you, would try to work towards the balance his father insisted he needed, try to understand that you were now part of his priorities and could never simply ignore you.  

He glided his thumbs against the back of your hands that held his pacifyingly, leaning down until he was just inches from your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut. He unexpectedly spoke quietly, meaningfully, seconds away from sealing the deal of an uncertain future, though, remained certain of this one thing. 

“I’ll take care of you, Y/N, I promise.” And he kissed you in a single breath, no haste, no pressure, only the gentle touch of his lips as they met yours, soft and light. 

Maybe Taehyung didn’t know the exact feelings behind his promise, but he knew the meaning; that no matter the arrangement, the non-existent feelings, the loss of choice, he would at least take care of you like any husband would, a good husband.  

He at least owed you that.  

You were left shocked at the nature of his kiss, Taehyung’s warm lips connecting with yours tenderly. You were convinced the tears you saw in his eyes were enough to assert he hated this, frustrated he had to sell his soul, wishing to only rush the kiss so he could call it a day and ignore you for the rest of his life. 

Though what you never expected was the promise he made, or the way he kissed you with such intimacy you found yourself melting into his touch, reciprocating. He kissed you like you were fragile, locking your lips in a way that solidified his promise, as if out of all the empty vows you spoke today, this was the one, true vow he would keep. His lips felt plush against yours, catching his mouth just a little more before the bittersweet disconnection. 

You and Taehyung exchanged a poignant look, small smiles decorating both your faces with a mutual understanding swimming in your eyes as you gripped each other’s hands. You let his promise permeate the air between you two, finding solace in his words as the applause of everyone attending the ceremony filled the hall.   

Maybe it was the warm way Taehyung always pressed his hand to the small of your back when you spoke to others the whole night, maybe the way he veered you away from excessive amounts of alcohol with a light-hearted scolding considering that last time you drank, or maybe even the way he gently held you during your first dance..

Maybe it was all these considerate, kinds act that made you view Taehyung in a less negative light and rather a favourable one, that maybe he wouldn’t be the asshole CEO you’d first accused him of being.  

You would also be an idiot to not mention how completely and utterly handsome he was, looks carved by the Greeks themselves, quite possibly the hottest, most attractive man you’ve ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. 

And maybe all that accumulated into your assured opinion that when it came to consummating your marriage with Taehyung, you’d have no qualms or worries whatsoever. You would be absolutely willing, ready to take the night on and maybe even have some fun for yourself with whom you could tell was a really, really nice guy.

Though as Taehyung walked calmly in front of you towards your hotel suite, reaching into his suit pocket for the card key he’d retrieved at the front desk to swipe against the lock, your chest clogged with a crushing feeling of anxiety you couldn’t subdue. 

These weren’t the same nerves of maybe being not pretty enough, body insecurities or fear of what to expect from Taehyung, no, these nerves came from the utter panic of having to experience sex with another man.

Especially since your last partner. 

It always started with your permission, that wasn’t the issue, Though what left you afraid, so utterly frightened with the thought of spending a night with a man like this came from the treatment you received from that partner. 

Safe to say, you weren’t treated kindly. Far from that, actually, you were treated as though you had no needs or were a means of simple use. Your last partner was the opposite of giving, he was selfish, self-absorbed and only concerned himself with his own pleasure, going on and on only until he was satisfied and neglected you in every sense of the word, sometimes even refusing to listen to you if you protested. 

To make matters worse, he wasn’t faithful. 

You knew he slept around, a lot, it was the number one reason you never agreed to actually date him, never make things official. 

But the reason you would end up sleeping with him was because of the most perfectly imperfect concept among the human race; love. You believed every time with him was a new chance to make that love real, that it was the genuine manifestation of your feelings for one another, thinking maybe he wasn’t the asshole he always portrayed himself as and could man up enough to love you unconditionally. 

And he completely reeled you in, made you fall in love too quickly and made you believe he was capable of love. This grew exponentially when you were often described as ‘the different one’, the one he always came back to, that you were special. You clung onto those words as much as you could, convinced each time you were in fact the one for him, that maybe one day, he’d wake up and abandon his fuckboy lifestyle and mature.

But everyday that went by, every promise that was never fulfilled, every word that wasn’t met with an action, and especially after every hook up that resulted in nothing new, you began to understand you were everyone’s favourite role in a Shakespearean play. 

The fool. 

You were a joke to believe anything he said, the most naive person on earth to think you were any different from the others, when every night simply ended in rough fucks, virtually no orgasm and miniscule aftercare.

It left you essentially scarred, traumatized that every man in the world was built like this. It didn’t help that whenever you look back, many of your ex partners were of the same cut, the same trope of assholes that don’t seem as bad but end up being exactly so. 

It was what made you swallow thickly as Taehyung opened the door to the suite, holding it open as he moved aside to let you enter first. You walked forward and unintentionally brushed against him, realizing how much smaller you were in comparison to him all over again. 

He towered over you, and it made you more nervous. 

You looked up at him momentarily and quietly thanked him as you stepped inside, setting your sights on the large, king sized bed situated on one side of the room, a lounging area with couches to the other side which lead to a bathroom. Seoul’s breathtaking skyline was visible in the dark of the night through wall-to-ceiling windows opposite to you, covered by flowy, sheer curtains. 

You took a deep breath, trying to remind yourself Taehyung was not the same. Not all men are the same, you can’t inflict the mistakes and wrongdoings of one man onto another, categorize them into one kind. You wanted to think this way, and you knew it was the humane way to think. 

But as the memories of those heart-aching nights filled your head, the empty words, the lack of care or concern, the neglect, the feelings of pure abandonment and use only caused your heart to beat profusely in your chest, clutching onto the neckline of your dress to breathe. 

What if Taehyung really was no different?

It then suddenly hit you you didn’t know him. All you knew of Taehyung was that he was a fiercely successful business man, sitting atop Seoul’s most prestigious with Godly looks and a stare that could kill a man. You remembered your initial feelings about him; his stare in fact intimidated you, quite frankly all of him intimidated you, he was the epitome of perfection and you were far from that very notion. It left you thinking you didn’t measure up, and that he could view you in a dissimilar light than you viewed him; an unfavorable one. 

He could simply not want you, but is forced to.  

You’d observed his kind behavior and actions over the odd two days you met him, though that was exactly the inculpatory factor; you had only met him twice. You didn’t know what he would be like alone, when it was just the two of you, when there weren’t eyes scrutinizing him and cameras snapping shots of his every move. 

You didn’t know how he would be like in the bedroom, either. 

Your mind raced as you conflicted with yourself, trying to understand that Taehyung could be different, though apprehensive with the miniscule knowledge you actually had of him. 

You discerned after that last asshole of a partner you needed the love and care of a real partner, someone who would tend to your needs, adore you in the midst of their actions, be a giver and not just a receiver.  

And you didn’t know if Taehyung would be that partner. 

“Y/N...” Taehyung called out to you rather softly as he removed his suit jacket, the rustling of the cloth signaling he had indeed done so. His footsteps were hard to miss, the soles of his shoes sounding against the hardwood floor as he neared your lonesome figure standing in the middle of the room. 

Your breathing quickened with nearly every step he took, attempting to resolve the civil war you were battling within. You were trying to convince yourself Taehyung would be a nice man, a nice husband; though couldn’t help but feel deflated by the fact it was all mainly coerced out of him.

Your thoughts overwhelmed you as Taehyung finally stood behind you, mere inches from your back as he watched you from behind, unbeknownst of any feelings or thoughts currently riddling you.

He hesitated, though gently placed his hand against your bare arm, the sudden warmth of his hand against your skin causing you to flinch. He peered down at your smaller self squarely focusing in front of you, anticipating your response. He grew slightly soft when you tentatively looked over your shoulders, clearly teary-eyed. 

Taehyung couldn’t miss how scared you seemed, and he his heart inexplicably stung at the thought you were afraid of him. 

“We don’t have to do this.” Taehyung’s voice was low and resembled warm honey, reverberating in a way that made you ease up. 

You worked towards a stable voice. “W-we don’t?” 

“No, we don’t” His voice held no disappointment, only the intention of seemingly wanting to assure you, firm and oddly comforting. 

“I’m sorry, Taehyung. I’m really sorry.” It was hard to keep your tone leveled, clutching your hand over your mouth as you swallowed your emotions. 

“Don’t be sorry, there’s nothing for you to apologize for.” 

You strangely felt the desire to hold his hand that rested against you, though you ignored the urge and simply stepped out of his touch, clutching your chest tightly in an effort to cower away from him. But it was here you suddenly remembered that he kissed you, and the way he did so. 

It made your cheeks fill with a rosy blush. 

“Do you mean that?” You’d finally turned to meet his eyes, his face only visible by the moonlight illuminating the room. He seemed to have retracted his hand and stood with both tucked in his pockets, relaxed. 

This became the first time you noticed just how ravishing he looked tonight. 

His dark hair was slicked back loosely and left enough pieces to fall as a comma, graciously exposing his forehead, his Tom Ford suit attractively hugged his model-like body, watch and accessories accentuating his expensive look. 

His features were casted over by soft lighting, somehow adding to his beauty as the glow made him appear... less intimidating, dare you say warm or inviting. 

His expression was funnily enough, one that you could actually read. He held no contempt, no impatience or anger, only a hint of consideration as his calm eyes looked at you. His face may have been predominantly blank, void of a smile, though certainty held a form of reassurance.  

“Of course I do, why would I do anything with an unwilling person?”

You scoffed lightly, “Not a lot of people would say that.” Your eyes faltered from Taehyung’s and clutched yourself tighter, expression completely telling of trauma.

Taehyung instantly picked up on it, eyebrows slightly furrowing at your words though softening once registering their weight. He felt an overwhelming sense of apology take him, thinking of his next sentence before his mind oddly flashed back to the night of the engagement party.

“Y/N, did Kiseok..?” Taehyung trailed hesitantly. 

You winced at his line of thinking, “No, no...not what you’re thinking,” you immediately denied. “Just, shitty experiences.”

“Shitty, as in...?”

“As in only seeking self-satisfaction, neglect, lies, infidelity. Can we go to sleep?” You deflected with a heavy sigh and a hand at your temple, the day’s events catching up to you.

Taehyung nodded in agreement, “Yeah, sleep. We both need that.” His eyes then landed on the bed, registering even if it were large enough you two could sleep apart, he still opted for caution. 

“Um.. you can take the bed, by the way. I’ll sleep on the couch-”

“No, don’t do that.” You replied quickly. “I can’t sleep on a king-sized bed all by myself, it’s huge.” You side-eyed the massive mattress and laughed a little, lightening the heavy aura casted over the room. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be uncomf-”

“Don’t worry, Taehyung. You don’t make me feel uncomfortable.” You smiled at him lightly and received a small one from him, both your eyes mirroring the same sense of understanding you exchanged at the altar. 

“I’ll let you wash up first, your overnight bag should be in the bathroom closet.” Taehyung informed, pointing towards the direction of your things. 

“Thank you.” You voiced with an amount of warmth that made Taehyung want to genuinely smile, though crushed the weird urge and nodded agreeably instead.

You began walking away from him until a nuisance suddenly occurred to you, cursing yourself as you came to a full stop. “Um, Taehyung.. I forgot but could you..?” You angled your back towards him to call out to the ribbons tying the back of your dress, knowing you would’ve taken 20 years just to untie your bodice yourself. 

The fact that you weren’t looking directly at Taehyung made him feel relieved, glad he wouldn’t embarrass himself with the his eyes slightly widened. He was quick to reprimand himself, it’s just a woman’s dress, why the hell are you shocked? 

Taehyung swallowed dryly before replying, “Uh, yeah I’ll--I’ll do that.” He walked towards you sparingly and positioned himself behind you.

He’d noticed it before, but you were relatively small compared to him in size and it continued to poke at his brain, maybe even momentarily think it was cute. 

Cute? When have I ever found a girl cute?

Taehyung exhaled before his hands carefully made for the silk ribbons, his tentative fingers fiddling with the ties until he eventually began loosening each one. He started unlooping your bodice, breathing out considerably when each loop began exposing your back inch by inch.  

Taehyung’s sweet, hot breath fanned your skin, tensing each time as your every nerve went haywire feeling just how close he was. His slender fingers brushed against your bare skin here and there, making heat collect in your face.

You grew even hotter when your kiss with him suddenly crept back into your mind, unknowing of the reason why excitement and electricity shot throughout your body because of it. The way his soft, full lips met yours, mouthed at you tastefully repeated in your head, making you extremely nervous at how much a measly kiss from him was occupying your mind; it was just a kiss. 

Taehyung found himself tensing by the intimacy of the moment, remembering the way he so boldly kissed you. He found that he liked the plush of your lips, the way he had to bend down to your smaller height to lock lips; and it made him feel strange. 

How the hell was he taking interest in something other than his work? No, this isn’t interest, Taehyung thought, and would spend however long denying it. 

He’d finished the task throughout all his thinking, unrealizing of how proximal he was to you. He oddly hated that the moment was over, coming back down to Earth.

“There you go.” He cleared his voice and stepped away from you. 

You held your bodice up against your chest, realizing Taehyung had a full-access view of your back and you grew 10x hotter. You gulped at the thought before hastily turning around to thank him, quickly disappearing into the bathroom for a moment of reprieve. 

You shut the door and instantly breathed out a breath you didn’t remember holding, looking at your hot mess of a face in the mirror trying to cool down, reliving the last 10 minutes of what just happened. 

You took a deep breath. 

Maybe Taehyung is different after all. 

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#thebtswritersclub #bangtanhq #kwritersworldnet #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung x reader #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #taehyung scenario #taehyung fanfiction #kim taehyung #taehyung arranged marriage au

[seiyasabi]

Ripe For The Pickin’

(This is a Yandere Kita x Fem Reader Story! Hopefully y’all like this lmao, sorry if his hick accent is annoying lmao, I thought it gave him ¬flavour¬

Tw: !!noncon!, !misogyny!, breeding kink!, !Detailed postpartum depression!!!, !!!Mentions of attempted suicide and murder of a child!!!, !Mental illness!, !Defeatist attitude!, !Disassociation!,  housewife reader!, threats of physical harm!, manipulation!, mentions of kids!, etc.. 

Please proceed with caution! Note: Part of my family are farmers- my grandpa specifically, and he speaks very similarly to how I wrote Kita’s dialogue (the joking bit). He had a farm in Hawaii growing up, and he always jokes that he’s ‘but a country folk,’ so I mean no offense to those who own a farm. )

Throwing down his work cap on your kitchen table, Kita visibly brightens at your busy form. Your two year old son is balanced perfectly on your hip, your other hand stirring a pot of Udon. The steam rises around your head, slightly flushing your (skin colour) complection. 

Looking up, your eyes immediately meet the white haired male’s, causing you to freeze up momentarily. He sends you a warning look. 

“Welcome Home, Shinsuke,” A wobbly grin spreads across your painted features (just how Kita liked- he likes when you try to look good for him), catching the attention of your son immediately. 

“Daddy!” He practically hops out of your hold, rushing to the large male. Your unwanted husband scoops him up in his buff arms, swinging him around. 

“Whoa, one’a these days yer gonna throw yer Pa’s back out,” He grins happily at his carbon copy, smooching the small boy on his grey hair. 

The little one giggles cutely, basking in his father’s presence. You quickly approach Kita, hugging him from the side, and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, “We’ve missed you all day, My Love,” He always likes it when you’re sappy- it makes him feel wanted. 

At your words, he delivers a lingering kiss to your lip tint stained lips, your son half in your arms and half in your husband’s. You lightly pinch your babe’s cheek, causing him to giggle, before you kiss him on his forehead. Kita visibly brightens at your affectionate side, his open arm wrapping around your waist, “What’cha makin’ fer dinner, Pretty Lady?” 

You cringe internally, yet you can’t help the blush that forms on your pretty face, “Kazue wanted Udon- I hope that’s okay,” Shinsuke nods, a thoughtful look on his face. 

“‘O course,” He lightly pinches your son’s other cheek, “If our growin’ boy wants Udon, by God, he’ll get it.” 

-

Settling Kazue down in his bed, you give the sleeping boy a tender kiss on the forehead. As much as you hate Kita, you don’t have the heart to hate your son. He, like you, didn’t ask to be here, so you decided to be the best mom he could ever have. 

Smoothing his blanket over his lower body, you tuck the other bits under him, and lay his favourite stuffy next to him. Once done, you step away from the slumbering babe, and make your way out of his room. Kita is waiting in the night light lit hallway, leaning against the opposing wall. 

You jump slightly, not expecting him to be there. 

“Is something wrong, Shinsuke?” A practiced smile appears on your face, hands clasping behind your back to keep you grounded. 

He says nothing, motioning you to follow him, before turning and walking towards your shared bedroom. Shuffling after him, you try to still your rapidly beating heart. Did you do something wrong? 

Kita isn’t one to shy away from punishment. If anything, he revels in the momentary feeling of power-that is, until your broken body and mind are left in the aftermath. Then, he can’t help but feel horrible, because in some twisted way, the man truly loves you. So, he’ll try to cuddle and kiss his wrongs away, trying to forget that he’s the catalyst of all the things going wrong in your life. 

Burying those thoughts away, you step into the darkened room, noticing immediately that Kita is settled on his side of the bed. He’s stripping himself of his overshirt, exposing his wife-beater underneath, “Ya know, I think it’s time fer the boy ta have a brother.”

It feels as though the world around you is crumbling. Just when you gain a sense of normalcy, the bastard rips that away from you. 

Your smile visibly wavers, but you try to hold strong, “I-well, I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Your hands are trembling, your heart practically being torn from your chest, “Kazue is still a toddler, I think it would be better if he was around five. Then, he can interact with-” Kita holds up a hand, halting your speech. 

“Yer gettin’ too technical fer the simple folk in tha room, Pretty Lady,” He stands to his feet, discarding his slippers, before slipping his baggy jeans off of his lower half, “Jus’ say yer too selfish to give yer lovin’, hardworkin’ husband tha things he deserves-” 

Kita knows that you had postpartum depression. He knows that you not only almost hurt yourself, but also your precious son. He knows that you had to be sedated at one point to even continue living. Yet, it seems like he doesn’t care. 

Tears fill your eyes, as you finally let your feelings become known, “That was horrible to say, Shinsuke. You know how hard it was for me-”

“It was also hard fer me too, ya’know,” He’s doing it again… trying to manipulate you into being the bad guy, “Seein’ ya go bonkers was hard ta’ watch. Plus, seein’ our son almost drown in tha tub-” 

“Stop it!” You finally lose your cool, surprising your usually collected kidnapper, “You don’t get to claim it was hard for you, when everything is your fault!” His mouth open and closes like a dying fish, unsure what to say, “If you waited for me to be ready to have children, I wouldn’t have spiraled out of control. If I was given the help I needed, I wouldn’t have gone psychotic. If you hadn’t stolen me away from my life and forced me to bend to your will, none of this would have happened!” By now, you’re a sobbing mess. He always does this. Kita always breaks you down until you seem crazy, but you’re not. You’re just tired of how he treats you like a baby maker, tired of how he treats you like nothing, yet claims you’re his entire world. 

But, when you hear him sigh softly to himself, you know that he doesn’t care about your feelings, “Do I need to use the gag? I thought we were above that.” 

Knowing that refusal won’t be tolerated or respected, you don’t bother wasting anymore of your breath. Slipping off your house slippers, you shuck off your dress, revealing your bare chest and panties. More tears slip down your face, as you lay down on your large shared bed. 

Shinsuke grins at your compliance, quickly moving between your legs, and stripping you of your drawers. His rough fingers rub at your clit and slit, “Good girl. ‘Ya know yer man jus’ wants what’s good fer ya, an’ a baby is good fer any good woman.” 

You ignore him, but he doesn’t seem to care. Kita continues to rub against your clit, trying to coax an orgasm out of you. But, you don’t give him the satisfaction. 

Staring at the ceiling, you let your mind go. Your dissociated body reacts well to his ministrations, your arousal coating your thighs, as they tremble in lieu of an orgasm. 

His fingers dig in deep, as they force your pussy open. Feeling how relaxed you are, he decides that you’re loose enough to go right in. 

Pulling out his thick cock, he bumps the head against your slick cunny, “Don’ worry, Darlin’, yer man will take good care of ya,” He slides in with relative ease, your hips bumping against his.  

The normal constricting feeling in your chest has long since faded, instead, the feeling of acceptance at the fact that you couldn’t get out of this replaced it. 

Your body jolts and rolls with Kita’s harsh thrusts, his panting warm against your neck, “Yer so good fer me, (Your Name), yer gonna bear me healthy sons,” The gummy walls of your pussy knead his cock thoroughly, trying to milk him for everything he’s got, “I knew you were perfect fer the takin’.” 

He forces your knees next to your head, the head of his cock bashing into your cervix painfully. Fortunately, that was enough to set your body off. A gush of cum drenches the both of you, as Kita slams himself inside of you entirely, allowing your womb to be filled to the brim with his fertile cum. 

“Ya never disappoint, Darlin’,” He smooches you on your lax lips, ignoring the fact that your head is practically empty, “Maybe you’ll have twins this time.” 

With that, he starts his hardcore pace one more. 

But, you can’t bring yourself to care. As long as you can drift away from the events unfolding in front of you, 

#kita shinsuke #yandere kita #kita x y/n #kita x reader #yandere haikyuu #yandere haikyuu x reader #yandere haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #tw: noncon #tw: pregnancy #tw violent thoughts

[cinnamonest]

Kaeya is really touchy with his darling, right? So then,, what are the other Yan’s love languages?

NICE I love the love languages stuff! Sorry this was from April but I'm finally getting to it! Usually the two are similar, but sometimes people have different ways of expressing love versus how they want to receive it, so I'll elaborate on that as well. Enjoy my rareish semi-fluffy stuff, boys and which of the 5 love languages they are :3 Kazuha - quality time

Honestly, he's a simple boy. All he really needs to be happy and feel mutual love is sit with you close to him, arms wrapped around you, preferably with you returning the gesture. He has a lot of feelings and fears for the future, lots of emotions all bottled up, so someone to listen to him means a lot. Taking the time to listen to all he has to say makes him sheepish and embarrassed even, but as long as you assure him it's ok, he'll keep coming back for more of your listening ears.

Also, he likes to go on walks. These can be talking or not, sometimes he just likes walking in silence. Either way, accompanying him on said walks is a way to endear yourself to him and show him you love him. Sometimes it's just silently walking down beaches or pathways or in circles around the ship deck, sometimes it's him venting, sometimes it's him gushing about this or that... either way, basically providing him with an outlet for his emotions and spending time with him is what matters.

Zhongli -  gifts, quality time

Sugar daddy

But in all seriousness he's big on spoiling a darling. I mean let's be real it's probably someone else's money OR this is in an era where he could just make some, so he will literally get you anything you could ask for, hell, anything he sees you looking at, tons of things you have no use for but he just likes the way your eyes light up all the same. It makes you happy, and that's what love is about, right? Wanting to make people you love happy.

However, for himself, it's a quality time thing, similar to Kazuha's where it's a lot of listening. He has a lot to say sometimes and can get to rambling about details of this or that thing he somehow manages to be an expert on, and while he usually catches himself early on, sometimes he can REALLY go on a while. He knows you don't have any clue what he's talking about, and probably don't really care, but if you sudden bring up a detail that shows you were listening -- it makes him feel oddly warm inside, like you actually think what he talks about is important and care about it. It makes him chuckle a bit, pat your head. He tells you if you're bored you don't have to listen.... so if you insist on doing so anyway, well, that just makes him feel even better inside, oddly validated in a way.

Kaeya  -  words of affirmation, touch

Is sex a love language?

But in all seriousness, yes as per the opening of the ask, he's very touchy. By 'touch' in this case, that... does translate to sex about 90% of the time. Can you blame him?? It's because he loves you! If he didn't love you he wouldn't wanna get his dick in you so bad! It's love that makes him so handsy and touchy, always rubbing you and running the edges of his fingers under your shirts and skirts and shorts even in public, hands wrapping around your waist and hips, sneaking fondles here and there... and it's out of love that you get railed all the time. His peak happiness is just being balls deep inside you, bodies pressed up against each other, moving slow and gentle and gradually building up... and he wants you to feel like that's love, too. To be honest he gets genuinely sad if you don't see it that way, or if you don't understand it as an expression of love. It seems so natural and innate that being pressed up close together should invoke feelings of love, right?

As for how he understands love as a recipient, well, pretty much the same thing, any sign of eagerness or willingness or especially initiative to fuck sets his brain off. But also, he's weak to any attempts to boost his ego. Say anything positive about him and he'll get excited and let it go to his head, particularly if your words of choice make him feel strong or powerful or capable.

Also speaking of touch, surprisingly big on handholding, especially in public. Sure part of it is a "signaling to others to back off" sort of thing, but he just likes the warmth of your hand as well.

Diluc - touch

It might be a bit surprising, given the stoic nature but... just give this man a hug. Please.

Being inside you is very very nice of course, but he's also notably a cuddly person when you get past the rough exterior. He likes to just sit you in his lap and hold you, spoon you in bed at night, etc.

And as for giving, he doesn't really have knowledge of how to go about other things. He's not good with words at all, he doesn't really know what gifts to get, and despite his affection he's not really submissive enough of a person to go about acts of service, and he's very busy, so while he might get quality time, it's not too often. In the end he doesn't really know how to do anything else, so if he really wants to express affection, the only way he can really think of is just wrapping his arms around you and squeezing. Sometimes a little too hard, like sir I'm asphyxiating please

Also it takes him a while to work up to it. At first he's just too nervous and can barely touch you without retracting his hand back out of nervousness, but he gets used to it.

Razor - quality time, touch

The others are kind of foreign concepts, really. But touch and time is how his kind bond! It's what he's used to. Nuzzling his face into your shoulders and neck and wrapping arms around you and holding you tight. He will often just cling to you physically in some way, holding your wrist in his hand or reaching out to embrace you at random. Of course, sex is a part of it, gotta have that too, it means love to him because he gets the urge whenever he thinks about loving you! And not gonna lie, he tries to remember you don't really like it but, he'll lick you every now and then too. It just comes naturally because he gets excited 'cause he loves you so much!! Lick lick.

Quality time comes in many forms. Every second is quality time in its own way, but especially naps in the sun and walks through the woods. Fun fact: wolf mates go on little "walks" together occasionally, breaking off from the rest of the pack to get alone time. It's fun! You can run through the woods with him! The naps combine the two expressions of touch and time, getting to spend lots of quiet, valuable time, all while snuggled up close. It's nice.

He doesn't really understand if you try to communicate love otherwise, but he'll kind of grasp that it's nice. But really, in the end he wants touch and time too. It's the only form he really understands. The rest just leave him a bit "??" But a nuzzle and a nap in the sun are things he understands perfectly.

Xingqiu - gifts, words of affirmation

The first is more how he shows, the second how he receives. It's a rather selfish form of love, really, because it benefits him as well and it's not exactly difficult. He doesn't have to put a lot of work into gifting, since he can pretty much get anything he asks for out of his father, and even if he says no to something, well, father won't notice a few hundred thousand mora gone from the stash of money kept in his bedroom, right? And he loves giving you gifts because of your reaction! You smile and say thank you and it makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside... and he likes to think that maybe you feel indebted to him, maybe you're awed and impressed by how he manages to find you such expensive and rare things, maybe it makes you look up to him and see him as superior a bit. Hopefully.

However, because he's got so much wealth already, so gifts don't really do much for him. He responds well to praise, though, especially if you compliment him on the things he cares about, like his sword skills, his writing, his vigilantism. Make him feel like the protagonist he is inside his head, and he'll be beaming with pride and happiness, it makes him feel important, which translates to feeling loved.

Chongyun - quality time, acts of service

In particular, he likes to have you around when he's training. You don't have to train yourself, just be by his side. It makes him more motivated, so he's noticed. Not to mention, he likes showing off if possible to impress you.

Also, he likes having someone to vent to. He's a sweet boy, but he has his stressors and frustrations. He's used to strict self-discipline and normally refrains from talking about his feelings too much, but if you make him feel like your presence is a safe place for him to come to, he will end up almost becoming dependent on getting to emotionally unload on you every day, recalling all the details of every bad thing that happened and waiting for your soft comfort.

Here, "acts of service" is more like... consideration. Little moments where he's reminded you remember his needs and care about them. You make food and note that you made it especially free of anything hot, just for him! Or you make his little popsicles when he forgets, you help him deal with the damage and destruction of his most recent episode. Little acts like that make him feel appreciated, loved and cared for.

Childe - acts of service

Similar to Kaeya and touch, acts of service is... yeah it's basically sex. It falls more into the category of acts of service because it's a little different in nature from Kaeya's -- he loves normal sex of course, and cuddles are nice too, but in his mind really loving him is about taking initiative and doing things to him... in other words, to translate that in simple terms... blow him. Please. It would make him the happiest man in the world. Or ride him. Just anything that feels like you taking some initiative and making him feel wanted. ...And making him feel worshipped is nice too, getting you down on your knees in front of him or any act of service and submission gives him a sort of high from the ego boost and masculine validation.

And he's similar with how he expresses it himself. Most likely candidate to eat you out against your will. One infuriating and potentially humiliating thing about him is he's one of the most insistent to ensure you cum every single time, if you don't cum from him fucking you he'll just force your legs open and eat you out or shove his fingers into you until you do. Because he loves you and orgasms equate to love in his mind.

Venti - acts of service, words of affirmation, gifts

It's more on the giving end for him -- specifically, he can be a very sappy individual when he's in love, to a point it's nauseating to the people around you, really. But he spends a lot of time writing you poems and songs. To him, song is one of the utmost powerful expressions of love. It sort of combines the service and words -- the writing itself is a labor of love, but the words are filled with praises. He genuinely spends a lot of time on it, though, and it's really important to him that you like the things he makes and plays for you, and will continuously modify his next pieces to what he perceives as your taste. He's a bit of a perfectionist on stuff like that.

Venti is actually rather shy when it comes to receiving love. He tends to be very no, you don't have to do that for me! And things like gifts can make him feel a bit guilty, so... you just have to give him stuff he likes so much he's too busy indulging to feel guilt. Namely alcohol. He gets a bit red in the face, but, deep down he likes words of affirmation and compliments too, even the lightest of sweet words he'll replay in his head over and over for days after you say them.

Bennett - acts of service

One of the quickest ways to endear yourself to him is the simple act of helping him. This can manifest in several ways, such as healing his wounds when he's all scraped up or just come back from an adventure, helping him patch up his clothes that get ripped so much, helping him find some thing he lost in the woods yet again, or following him on one of said adventures. People don't really have him in mind too often, he tends to get forgotten a lot and left to handle things all on his own, and as a result, someone who reaches out to help him has a significant impact on him, he finds himself unable to stop thinking about it and the warm feeling it gives him to know that someone cares.

As a result, he starts basically mimicking the same behaviors because it's all he really knows how to do. He wants to give you the same warm happiness that you give him, so he tries to help you out with the things you need, complete tasks he knows would be helpful to you. Unfortunately for him, this tends to backfire as something usually goes wrong and it turns into a mess that he fears will just make you hate him. Poor baby.

Albedo - quality time

He's one of those people that really loves to just spend time in the presence of the people he loves -- you don't have to be doing something together, or the same thing. Even if you're just reading a book or drawing or something on your own, he likes you to be nearby him. It's kinda cute how if you go wandering off or go into another room, he'll wait a minute, then silently kinda come peeking around the corner to check on you because?? Why did you leave? Did he do something to upset you? He's too proud to explicitly ask you to come back, but he might blatantly follow you to the room you're in, claiming it's just better lighting in here, or the other room was too cold, or some other excuse.

He still likes doing things with you, though, too. Another favorite is late night conversations, the kind you get into once you're already laying in bed in the dark, pressed against each other and mumbling little thoughts that occur to you before you drift off to sleep, questions about tomorrow, or a hey remind me to do this or that, that sort of thing. Little conversations you never really finish, your voices get softer and sleepier with each moment, you eventually close your eyes as you talk back and forth, until one of you eventually doesn't get a response, and then drifts off themselves.... and in the morning neither of you remember who was the last person to speak or what the conversation was even about in the end.

Xiao - touch

He just doesn't... get much else. Words are hard. He doesn't know whether this or that gift or gesture is considered appropriate to present to a human as  sign of love, and those kinds of things, words and gifts and stuff, embarrass him too much... and he doesn't every really know whether or not he's correct when interpreting your actions and words either. How does he know the gift isn't just because you wanted to be nice, or that the nice things you said were just meant mildly, and he's just indulging in wishful thinking when he thinks it means more? Ugh. It's too troublesome to have to deal with.

But touch... it's straightforward and easy and impossible to misunderstand. And it's also objectively the best, he thinks, even without the issues in understanding it's just what he feels the most natural urge towards. Why would anyone do any differently? Why do humans waste their time giving each other gifts and compliments and stuff when they could just do the thing that feels so much better than that other stuff? It confuses him. He doesn't want material goods, he just wants to cuddle you and put his dick in you. Yeah it... also translates to sex here, similar to Kaeya. Like, he likes it when you kiss his forehead and snuggle up close, but those things will inevitably result in wanting more. And he loves the rests you two take, half-asleep soundly wrapped up and bodies pressed close, spooning with his arms latched onto you. It's just that said rests/naps are almost always very much naked due to being after cumming in you a few times.

Scaramouche - acts of service, words of affirmation, touch

I mean, you're kinda forced into the acts of service thing, but the idea is that you start to perform said acts willingly, or without needing to be commanded. Eventually you get to where you do things on your own initiative, and he likes to think maybe you just want to (and not because you've been beaten into doing it so many times it's become instinctive, definitely not that). A lot of it is just tasks, but similar to Childe's acts of service, it's definitely a sex thing too, wants you to show initiative and do things on your own -- not that you won't likely get told not to do shit like that without permission, but he still does like it, internally.

Words of praise are similar. Say anything nice about him and he'll probably accuse you of lying or trying to manipulate him/get something, but deep down he kinda thrives on anything positive you have to say or think about him. Not that you'd ever know.

As for how he actually shows love, well... does... he...? Yes actually, primarily it's a touch thing. Not always pleasant touches, but touches. It's similar to how other yans equate different things with love, like Childe sees orgasms as a form of love, to him possession is the utmost expression of "love" in the sense that he perceives it. Possession, to own a thing completely and entirely, to have full power over something... that sort of connection is incredibly intimate, when you think about it. It's a connection on a deep level, it's loving. So anything that expresses possession -- pleasant or unpleasant for you -- is thus an expression of love.

#lena's asks #atml #scheduled post

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

When He’s Not Here

Pairing: Bakugou x reader (x Kirishima)

Warnings: Cursing, implied severe nightmare(s), mentioned character death (just kinda talking about it, nothing actually happened, dw), soft Bakugou (like, really soft)

A/N: I will take this as an opportunity to welcome myself back into writing (although I never really stopped; I just wanted to work on a few personal projects that were just for me :]). Um, I don’t have much to say about this other than I actually like it! I think it turned out pretty well, so props to me 🎉.

This is technically a Kiribaku x reader, buuut TWIST, Kirishima isn’t really in this one. Mostly just y/n and Bakugou interaction. Yeah, fun.

I promise this is fluff. It’s a little angsty, but not to any extreme. Just nightmare comfort and snuggles with Blasty.

Anyway, enjoy!

-Sugar

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You bolted upright, chest heaving, disoriented.

Everything around you was uncomfortably hot—unbearable. A sheen of sweat coated your skin, and the sheets beneath you were damp. Your heart pounded in your chest, making it hard to think, hard to breathe. Darkness pressed around you, only making it easier to see your visions again, playing over and over in your memory.

Desperate, your hands patted blindly around you, looking for something that would make it stop, something to help you feel better.

Your trembling fingers bumped into a warm, solid mound beside you and you latched onto it, hoping to find solace in this sea of fear and nothingness.

“Eijirou?” you gasped, already somehow feeling more grounded as you shook the man’s arm.

“Hm?” Rather than who you’d been expecting, a familiar rough voice emerged from the dark mass beside you.

“Katsuki?” you called out instead.

“What?” He rolled onto his back, dragging a hand over his face. “(Y/N)? What time is—”

You suddenly tackled him into a hug, burying your nose into his shoulder. “You’re alive! Thank goodness you’re okay!” You could sob with how happy you were to find that your nightmare had been little more than just a dream, that Bakugou and Kirishima weren’t dead, and that you were still safe.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” he asked gruffly. “And what’s got you shaking so hard? Was it another—”

“Bad dream,” you affirmed, pulling off of him and straightening. “Just a . . . dream.”

“Oh,” he muttered, sitting up.

“Sorry I woke you up. I was trying for—”

“Eijirou?”

You nodded sheepishly. “Not that I don’t want to talk to you, I just . . . forgot he wasn’t here.”

“Oh.”

Now it was coming back to you. Kirishima was away on a mission on the other side of the country. This was yours and Bakugou’s second night without him, but it still felt so foreign to have him missing from your bed. The sheets felt . . . colder and emptier with him gone. Yes, the redhead had a habit of spreading out in his sleep and snoring much louder than necessary, but both you and Katsuki (though he wouldn’t admit it out loud) had grown quite fond of his presence.

“Need anything?” the blond grunted, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Um,” you mumbled, thinking. “Maybe some water?”

Bakugou stood without another word, sliding silently out of the bedroom and down to the kitchen. Flicking on the light, he grabbed a glass out of the cabinet.

For as long as you’d been sharing a bed, Bakugou had been aware of your recurrent nightmares. He’d always been a light sleeper, so it was unavoidable that your muffled whimpers and kicking would wake him up. He was there for you when you needed him, yes, but . . . it didn’t take long for Katsuki to realize that Eijirou was just better with this sort of thing.

Bakugou didn’t know much about emotions, or comfort for that matter. He tended to just blast his way through things and hope others did the same. He had more important things to worry about than “feelings”. But he’d be a damn fool to overlook how powerful they could be, especially when it came to you and Eijirou. Hell, even the weight of his own feelings for the two of you shook his world from time to time.

But it just wasn’t something he was good at, and it frustrated him. He had to be the best. The best of the best, especially for someone like you. You were his partner, and he’d vowed to himself to be the best boyfriend to you no matter what. Maybe he was being a coward. Shouldn’t he work on the things he wasn’t good at? Even when they didn’t come easy?

He had to at least try.

Bakugou came back into the bedroom with a fresh glass of water in his hand. You took it from him gratefully, letting the cool liquid clear your mind as it slid down your throat.

“Better?” he asked, his voice low.

“Yes. Thank you.” You set the glass on the nightstand beside you, curling back into yourself.

The blond racked his mind. What did Kirishima do? Usually as soon as the redhead was awake and cooing over you, Katsuki would try to fall back asleep. He knew you were safe with him, so what was the point in doing anything more? Besides, Bakugou’s sleep schedule wasn’t something to be messed with. But now Eijirou was gone, and you needed someone to be there for you. You were more important to Katsuki than sleep. And you were still shaking.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Bakugou finally managed.

You thought for a moment before shaking your head. “It was just a dream. I don’t want to think about it more than I need to.”

“Oh.”

Bakugou sat on the bed in silence. Now what? If you weren’t going to talk, how was he supposed to know what to do?

“What does Kirishima do? When this happens.”

You glanced at the rumpled blankets underneath you, suddenly—for seemingly no reason—shy. “He usually holds me.”

Of course he did. That was your combined solution to everything. Figures.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you threw out quickly. “I know you’re not really in a cuddly mood right now—”

Bakugou gathered you up in his arms and shoved your body into his chest. You gasped at the abrupt motion but were just as quick to relax against him, suddenly feeling secure in his strong hold. His body was a little different from Kirishima’s; still thoroughly well-muscled, but otherwise smaller and leaner. You breathed in his scent—also different, but still so heavenly familiar and sweet.

“What gave you that idea?” he asked, his chin resting gently on the top of your head.

“You, um, were facing away from me when we went to bed.”

“Tch, dumbass.” He shifted you into a more comfortable position on his lap, kissing your scalp. “Now what?” he mumbled into your hair.

“He . . . talks to me.”

“What does he say?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered. “He reassures me, I guess.”

Bakugou frowned. “How am I supposed to do that if I don’t know what your shitty nightmare was about anyway?”

He felt you stiffen in his hold, and he knew he’d messed up.

“Look,” he muttered. “I know this really isn’t my thing, but please. I’m just trying to help you.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled in a small voice.

Silence.

Bakugou didn’t mind silence. In fact, he generally preferred it. It gave him peace to think to himself, and he hated it when there was something annoying and distracting buzzing around him, especially when it was some dumb, unimportant person.

But you weren’t dumb, or unimportant to him, and this time, he felt truly uncomfortable in the quiet dark. Why weren’t you saying anything? You weren’t exactly the type to never stop talking—you could be pretty quiet yourself, actually—but even you had a tendency to fill the void with something.

If you weren’t going to do it, he might as well just get it over with.

“You said something about me being alive when you woke up, yeah?” he asked you. “Scared of me dying?”

You paused, then nodded, tightly clutching the front of his tank top.

“Nothing can kill me,” he said, trying to approach with his cocky attitude.

“. . . you know that isn’t true,” you murmured.

He scowled. “Are you doubting me or something?”

“No. You’re just . . . no one’s invincible, Katsuki. Not even you.”

Bakugou huffed. This wasn’t going the way he’d hoped. How did Eijirou do this so often? Why had Bakugou never paid enough attention? Now he was starting to feel guilty. Had he been slacking off with you?

“I think you’re amazing, ‘Tsuki,” you went on. “But I’m scared of losing you. Both of you.”

He sighed. “Now why are you worrying about that?”

“I don’t know . . . .” You shrugged. “I guess that the simple answer is because I love you. Of course I worry about something happening. I don’t—I don’t know what I’d do if one of you got hurt, or—or worse.” You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting to keep yourself from crying.

“Hey,” Bakugou said softly.

You nuzzled yourself closer into his chest, sniffling a little and taking a deep breath.

“You know you’re strong, right?” he muttered, brushing his thumb over your shoulder. “I see it in you. I have for years. I trust that you can handle anything. You’ve been through a lot.”

It was your turn to sigh. “But I don’t want to go through something like that.”

“You think anyone does?”

“Well, no. Of course not.”

“Listen. You’re talking about two of the best pro heroes there are, okay? We’ve all got each other and we can take care of ourselves, got that? Worrying about us isn’t gonna do you any favors.”

“I can’t just ‘stop worrying’,” you countered.

“Okay, but don’t put so much into it. We’re here with you now, dumbass. Enjoy it while you can.”

“. . . Eijirou’s not here.”

Bakugou paused, thinking. “‘That what all this is about?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t know. Probably.”

“I’m sure he’s safe.” Katsuki rocked you ever so slightly in his arms, settling back into the quiet night.

“Do you miss him?” you asked.

“. . . ‘course I do.”

You smirked. “Aww.”

“Hey!” he protested. “I . . . I’m not scared to say that I love him. Or you for that matter.”

“I know.” You leaned up, touching the tip of your nose to his.

He blinked in surprise at the gesture, but then smiled softly and rested his forehead against yours.

“This is weird to say,” you began after a moment, “but I can’t really sleep without him snoring in my ear like a lawnmower.”

Katsuki barked out a laugh. “Are you kidding? This is the most peaceful night’s sleep I’ve gotten since we moved in together.”

You giggled. “Okay. But don’t you miss his good-night kisses?”

“Tch,” Bakugou grumbled. “Of course not. He’s so clingy and annoying.”

“Oh? That’s not how I remember it,” you laughed. “You love it when he gets like that.”

The blond scowled in the dark. “Alright, maybe it’s not so bad.”

You hummed, resting your head on his shoulder again. “I love you both, you know,” you said. “I can’t wait until things can go back to normal.”

“Shitty hair’ll be home soon,” Bakugou assured you. He chuckled to himself. “Until then, do you want me to snore in your ear for you? How about that? Something like this?” He obnoxiously made a loud, fake snoring noise in the back of his throat, making it sound as gross as possible.

You cracked up laughing, holding him closer to you while your shoulders shook. “Eijirou does not sound like that!”

“Oh, yes, he does,” Bakugou argued playfully. “Believe me, I sleep next to him too. And for whatever reason, you like it.”

You laughed again, and Katsuki’s cheeks warmed at the sweet sound of your mirth. “It’s just too quiet without him! I’m not used to it.”

“Well how about hogging all the blankets, then? And stealing the whole bed? Would that make you feel better?” Bakugou turned your bodies so he could flop on top of you, starfishing his limbs so you couldn’t get up.

“Actually, you do do that,” you teased. “You sprawl out on the bed all the time.”

He pouted. “Do not.”

“Do too.”

“Well how about kisses then? I’m the best kisser there is, and I’ve got two partners that’ll attest to that,” he boasted proudly.

“Ooh, two partners, huh?”

“Yeah, and you’re one of them. Here, I’ll prove it.”

Before you could say anything in response, Bakugou’s lips found yours, kissing you deeply and taking your breath away. Your hand slid up to cup his cheek, holding him in place as he embraced you. His lips were so soft and sweet—he always wore chapstick before he went to bed. You couldn’t help but sigh happily as his mouth moved over yours; gentle, but still with the slightest hint of roughness to it he always carried no matter what.

Eventually he pulled back, letting you breathe.

“I do like having just the two of us here,” you admitted quietly, brushing some of his spiky bangs back from his forehead. “It’s . . . different.”

You couldn’t really see it in the dark, but he smiled. “I like it too.” He leaned in and kissed your lips once more. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You stroked his cheek with the side of your thumb. “But maybe we shouldn’t be teasing our boyfriend while he isn’t here to defend himself.”

Bakugou snorted. “Eijirou doesn’t care. Besides, it’s all true.”

You chuckled, running your fingers through his hair and scratching at his scalp. “Thanks for making me feel better.”

Oh, that’s right, he was supposed to have been comforting you. He guessed that somehow, he’d done it. His chest swelled with pride. “Sure thing. Are you feeling alright now?”

“Yeah,” you said. “That dream was stupid anyway. It didn’t make any sense.”

“Of course it didn’t.” Katsuki pulled you into his arms again, rolling you both onto your sides so he could face you. “Shitty fucking dream. It’s not real, and it can’t hurt you. I’m here for you, got that? That’s what matters. Nothing’s going to take me away, and I mean it.” He kissed your forehead, pulling the blankets up around your shoulders again. “I fight and win for you, you know. I win for both of you. You two never leave my mind. I’m not stupid and reckless, okay? I’m careful enough so that I don’t get hurt like that.”

“I know.” You rested your head against his chest, sighing in contentment at the feeling of being held by him. It was warm and calming, comfortable and familiar. There wasn’t anywhere else you’d rather be.

“Ready to go back to sleep?” he asked you, rubbing your back.

“Yeah,” you murmured, shutting your eyes.

He hummed. “Good. I’ll see you in the morning, (Y/N).”

“Good night, Katsuki.”

Soon, the two of you drifted off to sleep, and until you awoke again at dawn, you were at peace.

…

“I’m home!” a voice called out by the doorway.

You jumped up from the couch, making a beeline towards the entrance of your house. “Eijirou!” you greeted happily, running up to him for a hug.

“Hey! It’s my darling, wonderful (Y/N)!” he laughed, dropping his bags and hoisting you up in his arms.

“It’s my big, strong manly man!” you countered, laughing.

He brought his face to yours, humming happily as he kissed you several times in quick succession.

“The two of you are going to make me puke.”

Eijirou let you go, setting you back down on the floor to look up at his boyfriend, who’d stepped in to greet Kirishima for himself.

“Katsuki!” he said happily, unfazed. He held out his arms, making grabby motions with his hands toward the blond.

Bakugou rolled his eyes, walking up to the redhead despite his annoyed façade. Eijirou hugged him tight, pressing a long, solid kiss to his lips.

“Group hug!” he said, pulling you in again for another hug, this time with Bakugou in the mix. “I missed you guys.”

“How was your trip?” you asked him.

“Great!” Kirishima said. “I’ll tell you everything about it as soon as I get something to eat, I’m starving.”

“I made dinner for everyone,” Bakugou said.

“So that’s why it smells amazing!” Kirishima kissed Bakugou on the cheek in thanks, then gave you another to be fair. “Let’s go then,” he said, stepping forward. “Although, I guess I should ask; did I miss anything while I was gone?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Taglist: @aahilovetheatre​ @basicalyrandom​ @hyunmin-1404​ @kqtsukii​ @nabo39​ @pyrofanatic​​ @rainy-skys-and-bright-stars​ @sendhelpimstupid​ @sxngwoos-ash-box​ @xoxopam4​

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou bnha #katsuki bakugou bnha #bakugou katsuki bnha #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki imagine #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #kirishima x reader #kiribaku x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #reader insert #sugar fics

[the-broken-truth]

Can I request i male reader who treats all of the lords and mother mranda like his own kids cause of his animal instincts? 🙍‍♂️🐾

(You can choose the sifter)

Broken (Chuckles): Hello, @imanewboi99 - back again to spoil me with delicious scenarios, are you? (Reads ask) A Shifter that treats The Lords & Mother Miranda like his children? Hm...I can imagine the Lords but the Lords see Mother Miranda as their mother...I'll make him Miranda's Lover - Hopefully that is good for you, my friend. As for Shifter Form... I'll make him a Caracal Cat; I like their ears and they have stubby little tails, plus cats are one of the animals I think will take in another animal's infant as their own. Now, let the words weave together!

Note: The Reader will be known as [Father].

🦇 [Alcina Dimitrescu] 🦇

When Alcina met [Father] during the Lord Meeting, she didn't like him for the simple fact he was a man but she was curious of the large feline ears he had in replacement for his human ears & they weren't just for show - he made that clear when Karl called Alcina 'Lady Super-Sized Bitch' during a Lord Meeting, causing the tall buff man to walk over to the 4th Lord and glare down at him.

His Response: "You will not refer to another Lord, your sister, and my daughter as a 'bitch' in my presence or the presence of your mother and siblings again, Karl Heisenberg or I show you the power I hold in a way you will not be fond of. Now, apologize to Alcina this minute."

When Karl didn't move fast enough, [Father] grabbed the German by his trench coat and held him high (Keep in mind that [Father] is around the same height as Alcina) with a glare on his face and snarl in his voice, "I SAID 'APOLOGIZE', YOU UNGRATEFUL BOY!'; Karl wheezed out an apology before the man placed in back on the pew, "And never...disrespect anyone of my children again, I wouldn't let any of them do it to you, Son." then he went to sit.

As time went on, [Father] would come to Castle Dimitrescu and repair any kind of structural damaging or ask Alcina if she needed anything to be delivered to the castle.

Alcina would say, "Father, you don't need to worry yourself with these petty issues."

But he would say, "As your father, I don't want my eldest daughter and granddaughters to be without. Please, let me be a good father and grandfather to you and my granddaughters, Alcina."

Alcina was touched and handed him a list of things she needed to be taken care of that no one else would do or couldn't do. Everything was done within a few hours.

When it comes to the daughters, [Father] loves them as a man would love his biological grandchildren.

He would come to the castle with gifts: A new book collection for Bela, Gadgets of Torment for Cassandra, or a new weapon for Daniela.

If the daughters were bored and had nothing to do, [Father] would turn into his Feline Form and let the daughters hunt him, but he was rather fast & which made the daughters have fun with the chase.

[Father] has a manor that is around the same size as Heisenberg's Factory and the daughters love to visit because the large man spoils them too much.

They would go every single weekend but one day, Alcina told them that they didn't need to go everything single weekend and to give [Father] some space. The daughters didn't like that and called their grandfather to complain and waited around the corner when Alcina received a call from [Father].

"Father, all I said was they don't need to be over there all of the time," Alcina explained.

"Alcina, don't say anything to me; you are lucky that I am 5 whiskey glasses in, otherwise I would come to get them myself. Call the carriage and bring me my granddaughters." He hung up after that.

Not wanting to disappoint her Father Figure, she called the carriage and delivered the daughters and she was given a case of fine wines to relax with while they were with him.

She may hate men - but [Father] was the only man-thing she would admit to caring about. Mother Miranda picked well.

🎎 [Donna Beneviento + Angie] 🎎

[Father] knew that Donna was timid & Angie was her way of communication - he didn't want to frighten her thus began their relationship with phone calls.

For the most time, he spoke to Angie and each conversation would with [Father] asking if Donna or Angie needed anything; yes, he considered Angie another person and not just a doll.

On the occasion that they did need something, he would go purchase what they needed and let it on the porch of Beneviento Manor, knocked on the door, and stepped away; he knew that Donna was scared of his height.

One day, he was delivering some Doll Parts Donna asked for, he did his normal routine and was about to leave when Angie called out and asked if he wanted to come in for tea. He accepted.

He shrunk himself to be a more acceptable height for Donna and the three of them had tea and conversation.

Donna became more adjusted to his presence and would call him herself - without Angie - and ask if they would have tea, make dolls together, or work in the garden together.

One day, he came with an eyepatch with the Crest of House Beneviento stitched into it as a way to cover the scar but not her whole face.

At the next meeting, she wore it.

Salvatore complimented her on it and she said 'Father made it for me.'

He smiled.

🐟 [Salvatore Moreau] 🐟

Salvatore was curious about [Father] but was too nervous to talk to him - thinking he was going to be mean or make fun of him his appearance. Imagine his surprise when [Father] wanted up to him and smiled before saying, 'Hello, Salvatore. It's nice to meet you, son.".

Salvatore looked at him with wide eyes - he thought of Salvatore as a son? He didn't make fun of him?

Salvatore and [Father] would talk whenever they saw each other at the Lord Meetings but one day, [Father] asked to spend a day with his son because he never got to learn about him.

Salvatore was nervous but agreed.

When [Father] arrived at Salvatore's Territory, he was displeased that his son was living in such poor conditions and he vowed to do something about it and his son's vomiting.

The two of them spent hours watching movies together and eating cheese & fish while Salvatore told [Father] everything about him.

One day, Salvatore was surprised to see his father building a new house on steady ground and told Salvatore that it was his new home because he was not gonna let his Lord and Son live in poor conditions like that. Salvatore was also informed that there was a new collection of movies for the two of them to enjoy.

They have movie nights every Wednesday and Sunday.

As for Salvatore's vomiting, [Father] was able to make an elixir that prevents vomiting but Sal has to drink it every month. It's bitter but he will do it regardless.

🛠 [Karl Heisenberg] 🛠

[Father] knew that Karl was still cross with him for embarrassing him before Mother Miranda and the Other Lords & no real father would want his son to be angry with him at every family get-together.

[Father] went to Karl's Factory with an apology but when he went inside, he saw his son running from a strange contraption with a large drill arm.

His Paternal Instincts kicked in and he charged at the creature, crushing its head in his hand before turning to his son to make sure he was alright.

Karl was angry to see him at first but he did thank him for saving his life before that thing turned him into a pin-cushion. He then asked [Father] what he was doing in his factory and the taller man said he didn't want any bad blood between the two of them and offered his services to his son.

Karl wasn't interested and first but he then realized that he could use [Father] to get inside information on Miranda so he agreed.

The two of them worked on projects, blueprints, or repairs for hours, enjoying each other conversation and presence.

[Father] asked the 4th Lord to be kinder to the other lords - he hated seeing his family argue and be bitter with each other.

Karl - while he never saw the others as his family - agreed to this for the sake of the only one he really respected and cared for.

Karl was still planning on making Miranda suffer for what she had done to him and the others...but...Did [Father] really deserve it?

This man - he had a heart of gold - but it was clear he suffered as well and this 'family' was the only thing that kept him together, kept him happy - Karl didn't want him to be unhappy.

What would destroying Miranda and this 'family' do to [Father]? Karl wondered but at the same time, he didn't want to know. This man was a father to him...what was he supposed to do?

🧪 [Mother Miranda + The Lords As A Whole] 🧪

Miranda would wake up to the smell of [Father]'s cooking and coffee every morning - he refused to let her start the daily research without a good meal and coffee, and she didn't object to this - the man made some delicious food.

One day - Miranda went to the meeting grounds and found the man cleaning, fixing pillars, and making individual thrones for the Lords, Mother Miranda, and himself. Reason: "My wife and children are not sitting on old ass furniture and possibly getting sick."

The Lords love their thrones - he even made one for Angie.

When an argument - mostly between Alcina and Karl - broke out, [Father] would roar for them to shut up and respect the Mother of All and each other.

"You are my children - not savages - and you will act like it or I shall show you how savages were treated where I came from!"

It would take Miranda's gentle hand to calm him when the children acted out of line.

When it came to the Cadou Experiments - [Father] would aid Miranda or his children without a second thought. Whatever they needed, he would get for them.

[Father] would try to have a family dinner with everyone at his manor once a week, just so the family could all be together.

As much as Miranda didn't want to admit it - she loved the dinners; it really felt as if she had a real family.

Maybe...when Eva was returned to her...they could be a family.

[End]

#Mother Miranda x Male Reader #Alcina Dimitrescu #Donna Beneviento #Salvatore Moreau #Karl Heisenberg #Resident Evil 8 #headcanon

[wri0thesley]

Nat... 👉👈 since requests are open can I please request some Gojo fluff? If you need a little inspo maybe like, reader and him meet after they were abroad for a mission or something? I'm in love with this funky man and I just wanna give him kiths

sweet tooth - gojo x reader, sfw, 2.5k

the early bird catches the worm. or the cake, you guess.

(just a lot of talking about food tbh . . . i dont get to write pure sfw fluff much, thank u for letting me indulge in my jjk brainrot NFJVND. gn reader! )

You know as well as anyone how little free time a jujutsu sorcerer has. You’ve spent most of your past few years rushing around from place to place, calling it a good night’s rest when you manage to fall amongst your coverings before the clock strikes three in the morning. You think this probably has to go double for somebody in such a constant state of being needed as Gojo – but still, he’d shown up outside your room this morning, bright and early, and said; “We’re going out!”

He hadn’t mentioned that you were still clad in pyjamas, your hair still a mess about your face, eyes still sleep and shadowed. You had jumped out of bed at the knock, of course – you’re used to being needed at the drop of a hat – but there is nothing at all in the way Gojo is looking at you to suggest there’s any kind of danger brewing.

He got in last night at the same time as you, after an exorcism had dragged on longer than expected – you know this. So how is his skin still glowing like moonlight, his voice still so bright, his hair still falling over his blindfold in that effortless perfectly-styled-without-being-styled way?

If he’s slept, he’s gotten the same hour and fifteen minutes you’ve gotten.

“Not even a warning?” You sigh, stifling a yawn. “I haven’t had time to clean my weapons or anything--”

“Woah!” Gojo’s grin doesn’t fade, but he holds up his hands as if he’s trying to avoid a savage attack. “Just you and me. No curses, promise. You won’t be needing those.” He cocks his head to the side. “Unless you wanna try and take me. I think you’d lose!”

Your brow furrows. You know you’d lose, and so does he.

“Have you seen the time?” You ask him, instead. You don’t question why or how he’d gotten into the hallway to stand like this outside of the room you’re renting in Tokyo for a while. You’ve learnt after knowing him for a while that what Gojo wants, he gets – besides. If he’d sweet-talked your landlady into letting him in, you couldn’t blame her for falling for his charms.

He sticks his head into your room and turns his face towards the clock on the wall, ticking merrily away, mocking you. You had hoped, after last night, the next time you saw a clock the hour hand would be well past twelve again. He pulls back.

“Now I have.”

“. . . aren’t you tired?”

Gojo shrugs, maddeningly. Half of what he does is irritating to the highest degree – the other half makes your stomach do strange somersaults that you try and push away. Getting a crush on Gojo Satoru is just going to lead to disaster. Although at this point, you have to admit to yourself that it’s more a case of ‘having a crush’ – there’s not much denying it, when he twinkles at you like this.

“You’ve gotten a good hour of beauty sleep,” he chirps. “Not that you need it. Let me take you out!”

You’re still focussing on the compliment, slipped into his words as if it’s as simple as breathing, when he enters your room full-on and is opening your wardrobe.

“H-hey,” you say, weakly. He’s rifling through the rack without a care in the world. “I—I can dress myself--”

“It’s quicker if I do it,” he replies, pulling out one of your favourite shirts. “Here, catch--!” Your reflexes allow you to not make a fool of yourself in front of him. “The colour of that one’s pretty! It’ll look nice on you.”

You’ve had more clothes piled into your arms before you can blink. You guess that Gojo must know his way around clothes – you’ve seen some of the brands and price tags of things he wears – but you can’t help but be a little flabbergasted by just how casual he is about everything. Maybe it’s the fact that your brain is still short-circuiting after being woken up earlier than you were expecting.

He finishes and walks over to you.

“I’ll wait outside.”

“W-what a gentleman,” you manage, and he throws his head back and laughs, and the laugh feels like it lodges warm in your chest. “After waking me up, bursting into my bedroom--”

“I’ll pay for everything,” he promises. He saunters out of your room, pulling the door closed behind him, calling; “I’ll make it up to you, promise!”

You stand there for a few more moments, still struggling to process the whirlwind that is Gojo’s presence in your life – half joking, half serious, half making you think that maybe you stand a chance, when he calls through the door;

“I can’t hear you moving!”

You jump. You wriggle out of your nightwear, your cheeks heating up, as you snap back;

“You said you were going to wait out there, not that you were going to press your ear to it and listen like some kind of stalker--!”

–

You stare in confusion at the fancy window in front of you, decorated with swirling cursive in gold. From outside, you can see into the establishment – the white scrollwork chairs, the cake stands, the menus standing up in their pale white leather covers. The early morning sunlight from outside is reflecting off a perfectly organised display case teeming with tiny little perfectly formed cakes.

“If you were craving something sweet,” you say, eventually, “surely there was an easier way to get it than this.”

Gojo grabs your arm cheerfully, pulling you towards the entrance of the patisserie.

“Well, I got the first sweet thing I was craving,” he ticks it off with his other hand. “But then I had one of my patented brainwaves.” He elbows you. “Put them both together!”

“I’m not feeling very sweet after you interrupted my sleep,” you mumble, but you know that there’s no real bite in your words. You hope Gojo doesn’t notice the reaction that you have – you know he’d never let it go. You often don’t know how to respond to his flirting – he has a reputation, after all, and you are just . . . you.

“We had to get here early, anyway,” he says, as he stands before the counter. The man in the apron and chef hat behind it recognises him immediately, lighting up – you wonder how much money Gojo spends on expensive patisserie. Everyone knows he has a sweet tooth. “They sell out of some of the best stuff well before ten!”

Gojo knows exactly what he’s doing as he points out various desserts from the display case, the man falling over himself to get the – frankly absurd amount of sweets – carefully packaged up for him. You’re not surprised, knowing Gojo, about the cute animal-shaped cakes that he chooses, the smiling bears and cats with ears made of sliced strawberries. You’re a little more surprised by all of the fancier pieces he chooses that you don’t recognise, but you don’t have much time for dwelling on it.

Spoils in hand, you peer further into the establishment to choose a table.

“Nah, don’t worry about that,” Gojo says cheerfully. “We’ll find somewhere outside to sit. It’s such a nice morning!”

You don’t miss the grin he shoots you as he says ‘morning’, the sidelong tip of his head as if he’s waiting to see if you’ll scold him again for interrupting your sleep. You do no such thing, content to be pulled along behind him again as he goes off in search of a place to enjoy his spoils.

People just tend to be pulled along by Gojo’s magnetism, you’ve discovered – and you are, hopelessly, no different.

He finds a quiet bench in a shady corner of one of the local parks; the only other people going past occasional elderly, walking their little dogs. He pats the wooden frame of the bench next to him, smiling.

“You’re not going to make me eat all of this by myself, huh?”

“It’s enough for eight people,” you say, sighing and resigning yourself to your fate as you take the place. He’s lucky you have a sweet tooth too; if he’d brought someone else, they’d probably be shirking back in horror at all the sugar. “You could probably eat it by yourself anyway.”

He pouts.

“I want to share it with you,” he says, cajoling – his fingers hover over one of the smaller cakes, a perfect bite-sized morsel. You try not to think about the elegant lines of his fingers and the power behind them as he plucks it up and offers it to you. “This one’s really good.”

You bring up your hand to take the sweet from him, but he laughs as your fingers bounce away from him, not quite able to get a purchase.

“Let me feed you,” he says to you, and blood rushes to your face all over again.

“I—I can feed myself,” you say, swallowing thickly. Gojo’s smile, on full, sculpted lips, makes butterflies crash into one another in the pit of your stomach.

He brings the treat to your mouth and he’s right, it does look really good. It’s a neat little roll cake, small in Gojo’s fingers, with the green colouring so many sweets you’ve eaten in Japan have been – you hope it’s not matcha, knowing the flavour will surprise you and Gojo will probably laugh, but you open your mouth in defeat and let Gojo pop it in there. His fingers linger a little too long against your lips, his expression fluttering so quickly you don’t quite catch it.

If you didn’t know better . . . you’d say that he had just fought back a blush.

“Is it good?” He asks, and his voice sounds a little strangled. You bite down on the cake, the juice of the strawberries coating your tongue – it is matcha, but the flavour is offset by the sweetness of the vanilla and fruits, and you’re glad about it. You nod enthusiastically, and he laughs.

“I told you!” He taps your cheek. “I know what I’m talking about!”

“You’re so smug,” you tell him, unable to hold back the laughter that’s bubbling out of you. Alright, maybe he woke you up too early and maybe he’s dragged you outside and maybe he’s been haunting your daydreams for months now, but . . . you think he means well. And you can’t deny that the sun is shining and the cakes are really delicious.

“If you were me,” he says, stretching out his arms over the back of the bench, “you would be smug too.” You shake your head at him, but he has a satisfied smile on his face. “Feed me one!”

“Are you going to let me?” You ask. “Or are you just going to bounce it away with your Infinity to make fun of me?”

You hover over the selection yourself, considering what to choose for him. In the end, you go for one of the mini slices of mille crepe cake, reasoning with yourself that even if it’s unusual to be eating so much cake this early, at least crepes are a traditional breakfast. Gojo obediently opens his mouth wider as you lift the slice.

You falter.

“You really want me to feed you?” You ask him, unsure. He laughs, grabbing ahold of your wrist – you almost start as he takes a bite from the treat, his lips tantalisingly close to your fingers. Another bite, and the cake is gone (you’ve never seen slices of mille crepe so small – but then again, judging by the eye-watering amount Gojo paid for his spoils, you’d never be able to afford to buy from a place like that).

“Mm,” he smacks his lips together. “It’s good.”

You swallow, noticing that there’s a smear of the cream between layers at the corner of his mouth. Gojo notices you staring, and quirks his lips into a smirk. “You’re staring,” he says. “I know I’m gorgeous, but--”

“You’ve got . . .” You say, awkward, motioning to his face. Somehow, it feels too intimate to lean forward and dab it away yourself – he’d asked you to feed him, after all. If you did it of your own accord. . .

“Huh? Oh,” He moves one of the arms casually draped over the bench to his face, and you think he is going to wipe it away – but instead, he hooks his thumb under his blindfold, pushing it up casually so the light hits the swirling colours in his eyes.

You’ve seen them before, of course – you’ve seen Gojo at work, after all – but they’re still a surprise, a bright moment of swirling starshine dropped on you when you’re least expecting it. Your stomach does that flip-flop again, the one that you try so hard to ignore – but when he’s looking at you like that, curious and smug all at once, you don’t really know how to handle it.

You’re glad you’re in a secluded spot. There’s nobody to see the embarrassing display of you not quite knowing what to do with yourself.

“You can get it,” he says to you. “I don’t mind.”

“I—”

“Look.” His other hand rises, cups your face, thumb ghosting across the same spot on your cheek that he’d tapped earlier. “I left icing sugar on your face. I’ll get that, and then we’ll be even.”

(Did he do that on purpose, you wonder? You wouldn’t be surprised.)

Your hand is trembling as you reach for the cream. You try and force your fingers to be still as you lean in closer to him, eyes concentrated, as you wipe the little splotch of cream from his mouth. You’re so close you can see galaxies in his eyes, the fan of white lashes, the way that his throat bobs when he swallows as if he’s nervous--

Nervous? Gojo? That can’t be true.

“I got it,” you breathe, though you don’t move. Your faces are so close together. You could lean forward, just a bit, and meet his lips with your own. Gojo’s eyes stay trained on you, not faltering in the least. His thumb is still on your cheek. Your own finger hasn’t moved from the corner of his mouth.

“Wanna know what it tastes like?” Is that a falter, in his voice? You’re stuttering all over the place, but Gojo--

“I’m not gonna put that in my mouth after it’s been on your face,” you tell him, without moving. Your heart is beating ten to the dozen. Gojo’s eyes crinkle at the corners.

“That’s not what I meant,” he says – and he breaks the distance himself, and suddenly he is kissing you. The hand on your cheek cupping your face into his, the other hand going about your waist, holding you tightly against him like he’s been wanting to do it since the moment he woke you up that morning.

(The mille crepe cake is delicious, you find out, from the lingering taste on his lips. Next time you two go there in the early morning rush, Gojo buys two slices.)

#writing #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sfw #please take this from me so i dont have to look at it anymore fnjkbgfnb #this just made me... hungry.... #magnolia-penn #jjk writing tag