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wooataes · 11 months

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Real Eyes, Fake Lies (Part Two)

Pairing: soulmate!Lee Jihoon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: angst, Hanahaki!AU, mentions of death, mild suggestion of self-harm but nothing happens, swearing, lots of crying and feelings , lots of plot this chapter.

Summary: What do you do when you find out the one person that was created by the universe to be yours doesn’t want you back?

A/N: Thank you all so much for all the love on part one! I do apologize at how long it’s taken for this one to come out, it’s been a hectic last few weeks with Svt’s anniversary and my birthday 🥰 I hope you all enjoy and please feel free to send me an ask to talk about the fic if you’d like! - Tae 💜✨

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Jihoon’s ears hadn’t stopped ringing since he left your place 30 minutes ago, and although his home is only a 5 minute walk from yours, he couldn’t find it in himself to go home just yet. He had paced around the block twice and walked to a nearby park to sit under a tree and let his thoughts marinate. His stomach was in knots, hands shaky, and he couldn’t stop the tears from falling down his cheeks. To make himself feel better, he believed that this was because of your overwhelming emotions, not his. The weather was in his favor, the rain hiding the fact that he was crying openly in public. He had let his eyes wander at the new world around him as he gathered his thoughts in an attempt to remember the simple colour theory he learnt as a child. The grass was green, the sky was blue, the roses were red. His mind was sent into overdrive, still being unwillingly attacked with your heavy heart and heaving sobs rising up his body, but he knew he just had to bear it.

Jihoon was knocked out of his thoughts when his phone vibrated for the upteenth time. He sighs out of pure frustration as he looks at the screen, wincing internally as he reads through the barrage of texts from Soonyoung and one of his 3 housemates, Wonwoo.

Wonwoo🎮: yo where you at? min and soonyoung are here, we’re gonna do a game night.

Wonwoo🎮: soon said you were walking y/n home? I’ll save you a spot in the next round of Uno.

Soonyoung 🐯: hey, is everything okay? y/n shot me a text and said she left early. where are you?

Soonyoung🐯: you were supposed to be back at yours 20 minutes ago?? wons is getting worried.

Soonyoung🐯: okay if you don’t answer me in 5 minutes I’m coming to look for you.

Wonwoo 🎮: where are you, jihoon?

Prettyy/n✨ wants to send you a message.

Jihoon feels his heart jump at your Instagram request, and swipes away all of his texts to check the request. Oh god, what if you’ve outed him? What if you’re going to go on a plot of revenge to get back at him for breaking your heart by telling everyone that he’s your soulmate? What if-

Prettyy/n✨: nothing happened. you didn’t walk me home, you didn’t even meet up with me at the working bee. I texted you and told you that I had to leave early and I ran into my soulmate on the way home but they wanted nothing to do with me. you and ji-ah are safe, I won’t tell anyone. I promise. if soonyoung pesters you, tell him you didn’t even see me today. your relationship is safe, nothing will be spilled, just like you want. bye, jihoon.

Prettyy/n✨: and please stop feeling bad. it’s making me feel sick.

After breathing a sigh of relief, Jihoon simply likes the message sent by you to acknowledge that he’s seen it and silently thanks you in his head and starts to wipe his slowing tears. He frowns slightly when he feels his stomach twist again, but he chooses to ignore it. He can put this whole thing behind him now and focus on his relationship with Ji-ah, soulmates be damned. Should he feel bad for breaking your heart? Absolutely. And don’t get him wrong, he does, but you can get over it now and grow from it. Now you both are blessed with a world of colour, you can both benefit from it, he thinks to himself.

“Where the hell have you been?!” Soonyoung is on Jihoon as he steps into his house, shaking off his jacket and placing it on the coat rack by the front door.

“You know I like the rain, Soonyoung,” Jihoon lies easily, shaking his wet hair over him to get him to back off successfully. “Why are you even here, anyway?”

“Minnie had to work on a theatre assignment with Jun, so I thought I’d hang with you and the lovebirds while they worked.” He smiles as Jihoon looks down the hall to see the lovebirds in question, Wonwoo and Mingyu, sitting by the coffee table in the living room setting up playing cards. Jun and Seokmin are at the dining room table in an intense brainstorm session, writing down their ideas onto a book placed in the middle of the table.

“Sorry for not warning you I’d be back late, Wonwoo.” Jihoon calls out as he walks into the living room, standing close to the fireplace to warm himself up from the cold rain. The house looks weird now he can see what it looks like in technicolour, he thinks.

Wonwoo simply waves him off as Mingyu stays comfortably nestled against his soulmate's side. Jihoon eyes them for a moment before Seokmin and Jun make their way into the living room, talking about a well deserved break from their 20 minutes of brainstorming.

“Hi again, hyung!” Seokmin waves with a smile, settling down on the couch beside Jun comfortably. “Are you going to play this round?”

Just as Jihoon is about to respond, Soonyoung’s phone starts to ring.

“You start the round without me, it’s Cheollie hyung.” He smiles and Jihoon feels his stomach drop instantly. Oh, fuck. Soonyoung presses the phone to his ear with a cheery “hyung~” as he steps out of the room, his voice trailing into the front room as he walks.

“Actually, you guys start without me too,” Jihoon stammers out, suddenly feeling sick. “I need to go shower and warm up so I don’t get…”

He trails off as he watches Seokmin’s face begin to change, a look of fear covering his features. His gaze follows where his soulmate has walked off to, and he starts to rise from his spot on the couch. “Something’s wrong.”

“What’s wrong?” Mingyu asks quietly.

Jihoon feels a sense of dread wash over him as Soonyoung steps back into the room, immediately rushing to collect his backpack.

“Darling, what’s happened?” Seokmin is at his side in a flash, Soonyoung’s breathing increasing rapidly.

“I-I don’t know. Cheol just said th-that something’s happened to Y/N,” he throws his backpack over his shoulder. Jihoon winces, holding his stomach as the overwhelming urge to cry comes back to him in full force. “I gotta go to her.”

“I’ll come with you!”

Soonyoung is quick to take his soulmate’s hands in his own. “It’s okay babe, you need to study with Jun anyway. Cheol said she’s really overwhelmed right now and he thinks only I can help.”

“I hate that you’re right,” Seokmin whined, giving him a quick peck on the lips. “Text me when you find out what’s happened?”

“Of course. Sorry, guys, I’ll join next time.” He waves quickly before rushing out the door and running in the direction of your home.

“Oh god, I hope she’s okay.” Seokmin sighs as he slumps on the couch, Mingyu now sitting up beside him.

“What do you think has happened?” He asked quietly.

“Honestly?” Seokmin frowns to himself. “I don’t know. I haven’t felt Soonie feel that worried before in a long time. The last time he was that bad was when he couldn’t find Y/N on the 3 year anniversary of her mother’s passing.”

“Passing?” Jihoon looks at him. “How did she pass?”

“She never really told us much…” he sighed. “All she would say is that when she was eleven, her father got caught by Seungcheol cheating on their mother with another woman and he just upped and left. According to Cheol, their mother fell apart, she was in love with him for over 20 years, how could you not?… and on top of that, she got Hanahaki.”

A soft gasp from Jun was the only thing that could be heard in the hushed room, Jihoon’s teeth sinking into his bottom lip. He only thought Hanahaki was a myth, a silly story told by people to scare them into loving their soulmates.

“That’s why Soonie’s family took them in.. their mother only lasted 3 months after he left them. Y/N was the one who found her. Cheol said she didn’t sleep for days, and whenever she did, it was only for a few hours at a time. She had recurring nightmares that he and Soonie would help her through.”

“Poor girl. I guess that’s why Soonyoung has always been so protective of her.” Wonwoo mumbled thoughtfully, hand slipping into Mingyu’s and squeezing.

“She literally loved that man so much and he just threw it all back in their faces and legitimately killed his soulmate.” Seokmin grumbled, staring at the table in front of him. “And he didn’t even want Cheol or Y/N after everything. He’s a selfish bastard.” He hissed. “Fucking coward. That’s where Y/N went on the third year of her passing. She left to go to her fathers house to tear him a new one. Fucker deserved it, too. I don’t really know what happened, but all Soonyoung tells me is that he had a new family. She never tried to look for him again after that.”

Jihoon sinks quietly to the floor by the fire, hugging his knees. All he feels is shame, and now, dare he says it, worry for you. He really fucked this up, and it only had just begun.

A gentle knock sounds through your bedroom as you laid your head back against the wall tiredly. It had been an hour since you discovered the migraine of the brightly coloured world around you, and you still sat in the dark corner of your bedroom, albeit more quieter now than the last time Cheol had checked on you. You had stopped crying half an hour ago, now only feeling numb inside. When you insisted to your brother that you were fine and wanted to be alone, he had respected your wishes and left only after giving you a hard hug, and the promise that he’d be with you in a heartbeat whenever you called.

“What?” You mumble, eyes closed.

“It’s me.” You hear the door close behind Soonyoung, his footsteps drawing closer.

“What do you want.” You keep your eyes shut, knowing you’d fall apart if you saw your best friend in front of you. “Why aren’t you with Seokmin?”

“Bug…” he ignores your question, your body almost recoiling back in shock as his warm palms gently rest over your wrists, turning them over for a moment, seemingly checking you for anything abnormal before placing your hands gently into your lap. “Please look at me?” Soonyoung’s hand softly reaches up to cradle your cheek. You shake your head quickly, feeling the tears well up behind your eyelids.

“You should be with your soulmate, S-Soon.” You stutter, hands reaching up to rub over your eyes aggressively. “W-why are you even here?”

“Bug, what happened?” His thumb swipes over a stray tear that slipped down your cheek. Your eyes finally open to be face to face with your worried best friend, his big brown eyes filled with worry.

You hiccup, take a heavy breath, and open your mouth. Soonyoung waits patiently, still holding your cheek. As you attempt to speak, all that leaves your lips is a hard sob before your arms snake around his waist, your face burying into his shoulder. His hand reaches up to run through your hair, the other rubbing soothing circles up and down your back.

“Oh, Bug..” he sighs, squeezing you to his chest. “You’re okay, I’ve got you.”

“You shouldn’t.” You whimper, the shoulder of Soonyoung’s shirt growing damp. “You should be with M-Min.”

“But then no one would be here for you, silly.” He cooed, brushing your hair through his fingers delicately.

“Exactly.”

“Don’t be silly.” Soonyoung tries to lift the mood, jostling you in his arms slightly. “Until you get your soulmate, you are stuck with me.” You only sob harder, gripping his sweater tightly as he slowly stops his movements, his mind slowly catching up. “… Bug? Did you…”

“They didn’t want me, Soon.” You whimper, squeezing him closer.

“I swear, I’ll kill whatever fucker who did this.” Soonyoung had left your room after letting you cry in his arms for two hours, eventually letting the exhaustion finally catch up with you and drift you off into a dreamless sleep. He was now pacing in the kitchen, anger growing inside him.

“I’m right behind you.” Seungcheol growled, sitting at the dining table with his chin resting against the top of his intertwined hands. His leg was shaking under the table, watching his friend pace in front of him.

“How the fuck could they do that to her?” He barked, hitting his fist on the breakfast bar. “All the girl has ever wanted was to be loved, and the one fucker who was literally made to be that person to love her doesn’t want her?!”

“Did she tell you who it was?” Jeonghan asked quietly as his hand gently rubbed circles into his soulmate’s back. He could feel Cheol’s anger bubbling inside him more and more as the time went on.

“No. She’s protecting them. I don’t know why. Fucker doesn’t deserve to be protected.” Soonyoung grumbled.

“Being angry isn’t going to solve anything, babe.” Seokmin sighed, leaning against the bar. “All we can do is be there for her and support her.”

“What if she gets..-”

“She won’t.” Seungcheol rises quickly from his seat. “We won’t let it happen. It only happens if she’s in love, she’s nowhere near that stage yet.”

It’s late in the middle of the night and no matter how hard he tried, Jihoon just couldn’t get to sleep. The pain in his stomach had finally settled for a few hours, and he concluded that Soonyoung had caught up to you, calmed you down and helped you finally fall asleep. Seokmin’s words about your life kept repeating in his head and ate at his mind until he finally couldn’t take it anymore, reaching for his phone and wincing at the brightness as he opened up his search bar.

“What is Hanahaki?”

What? He frowns deeply to himself, as if trying to reason with his soul. Whether I like it or not, she is going to be a part of my life. I might as well learn now.

“Hanahaki is a disease contracted due to an unrequited romantic love. It is manifested in the form of flowers, which root themselves against the victim’s lungs that cause them to cough up petals and in some extreme cases, whole flowers.”

Jihoon’s thumb slowly scrolled through the information page, coming to a stop at a subheading.

“What is the Cause of Hanahaki?”

“The main cause of Hanahaki is when a victim’s soulmate does not reciprocate the romantic feelings harbored for them.”

“Is There a Cure?”

“In extreme cases there is a possibility that the victim is eligible for surgery to remove the blockage in the lung. The consequence to removal is the victim losing all feelings and memories in regards to their soulmate, and to never be able to feel romantic love ever again. As cases recorded show the victim’s refusal to lose their love, most cases result in death.”

That’s why her mother passed. Jihoon frowns to himself. If she had the surgery, she would have lost all memories of her kids.

He should be safe. You’re not in love with him. You have always known of Jihoon but never have had to spend time with him. You’re not gonna die from this. Who knows? Maybe Jihoon could find a way to get you two to be friends. He has known of some soulmates who keep their relationship platonic and it working out. He could try in a few weeks to press the idea to you.

A tightness builds in his chest, confusing running through his head. It’s - Jihoon checks the time on his phone - 3 in the morning, what is going-

He hiccups and feels tears start filling his eyes. In a matter of seconds, he’s feeling the urge to once again start sobbing and seek comfort.

This is going to be a long night.

Jihoon grows concerned when it has been over a week and he hasn’t seen you around campus. He keeps a subconscious eye out for you in common areas where you’re known to be with Seokmin or Soonyoung, but he only ever finds the two soulmates together. Soonyoung has been more withdrawn, Jihoon notices, but whenever asked by Wonwoo or Jun in passing, Soonyoung just waves them off. Jihoon wouldn’t tell anyone he knows the real reason.

Over the course of the week, like clockwork, Jihoon gets woken up in the middle of the night to pains in his chest and wet cheeks. It doesn’t take him long to figure out that you’re making sure he is asleep before you let out all your pent up emotions, which makes him feel even worse.

Ji-ah doesn’t notice anything wrong with her boyfriend, or if she does, she doesn’t say. She spends every lunch break at Jihoon’s table they share with Wonwoo, Mingyu, Jun and Jun’s classmate from dance class, Chan. Jihoon puts up a good front when with Ji-ah. He can’t walk on eggshells around her or she will get suspicious and he can’t lose her for a girl he barely knows. He smiles with his arm draped over his girlfriend’s shoulder, eating a mouthful of rice when he almost chokes on his food as he sees you walk into the cafeteria for the first time in over a week.

Soonyoung and Seokmin are on either side of you, talking animatedly about something that Jihoon can’t quite hear. He frowns when he takes a good look at you. You look paler than normal; even with his new perspective with colour he can tell you shouldn’t be this white. You have bags under your eyes and your hair is pulled back in a high ponytail atop your head, a pink ribbon tying it together. His eyes follow where you’re looking to see theater majors Boo Seungkwan and Yoo Jeongyeon at a table two spaces down from them.

“Finally!!” Seungkwan grins excitedly as he jumps up from the table, meeting you halfway as he pulls you in for a tight hug. “I’ve been dying without you in class. There’s only so much Lee Seokmin you can tolerate.” He whines as you let out a soft laugh.

“Imagine living with him.” You giggle as Seokmin responds with a ‘Yah!’ and a swat to your arm.

“Are you feeling better?” Seungkwan leads you to sit down beside him, Soonyoung flanking your other side and Seokmin joining Jeongyeon. “You still look pretty pale, Bug.”

“Ah, I’m getting there.” You feigned a laugh, waving him off as Jeongyeon reaches across the table and takes your hands in hers.

“I’m so glad you’re back.” She cooed. “A week is too long to be ill. I’ll hurt whoever gave you the flu and make sure they never do it again.” She smiled.

“I missed you too, Jeongs.” You smiled as you glanced at Seungkwan. “Fill me in on what’s happened in class. Have I missed much?”

Jihoon forces himself to stop listening then, shaking his head slightly before trying to tune back into the conversation his table was having, which currently was a discussion between Wonwoo and Chan over a certain video game that was just released.

“Okay, so, I’ve got some dress ideas I’m going to get made for Formal and I need a girl’s opinion.” Jeongyeon grinned, passing her iPad over to you.

You take the iPad and look over the 3 options of dresses with scribbles and annotations all over them as Seungkwan waves his chopsticks.

“Yah! I told you the style of number 2 would look SO good on you! Why do you need someone else’s opinion?”

“I don’t trust your judgment.” She glares as Seungkwan gasps and smacks his chest.

“Oh heaven forbid I can’t give a good opinion!” He whines as Soonyoung covers his mouth with a low chuckle, clearly not wanting to be involved in the bickering.

“I think the red suits you best.” You speak quietly. “The blue clashes with your skin tone too much and the dark green looks too wedding-y.”

You’re met with a prolonged silence from the table as you come face to face with your two classmates staring at you as if you’ve grown a second head.

“What?” You deadpanned.

“Are you telling me..” Jeongyeon whispered.

“It happened?” Seungkwan gasped.

“Mm.” You mumble, pushing the iPad across the table. “It’s not a big deal.”

“UMM?” Jeongyeon balked. “Not a big deal?! You’ve only been dreaming about this day for the last 20 years of your life!” She squealed, taking your hands tightly. “I’m so happy for you!”

The commotion at the table draws the attention of Jihoon’s housemates, who turn to look over at you, who is now sinking down in your seat, Soonyoung’s hand pressing on your back.

“What’s happened?” Mingyu called over.

“Y/N can see colours!” Jeongyeon responds excitedly.

Jihoon’s stomach drops, and he knows that it wasn't you this time. His knee starts to bounce slightly as he keeps an eye on you, the others at his table getting up to congratulate you.

“It really isn’t a big deal, guys.” You mumble.

“Are you kidding? This is amazing news!” Seungkwan cheered, Mingyu joining him.

“We know how much you’ve wanted this, Bug!” Mingyu smiles, ruffling your hair. “Tell us everything!”

“There’s nothing to tell.” You look away, reaching to take a bite of your sandwich.

“What?” Jeongyeon frowned, trying to get in your line of sight. “What’s gotten into you? I thought you’d be excited about this..”

“I would’ve been excited if they wanted me back.”

“Oh.. Bug, I’m-”

“Yeah, so forgive me if I’m not happy about being rejected by my soulmate.” You hiss bitterly, feeling the sting of tears burning your eyes.

“Oh the poor thing.” Ji-ah whispers to her boyfriend, eyebrows furrowed. She leans her head against his shoulder, and Jihoon just watches on.

“So what?” Seungkwan’s question shocked the others as you looked back at him in surprise.

“Huh?”

“So your soulmate doesn’t want you.” Seungkwan takes your hand in his. “You don’t need them now to see the beauty around you. You have us, don’t you?” He nudges your side. “And you have been blessed with seeing all of the world with new eyes.”

“He’s right, Bug.” Seokmin urged, smiling at you.

“I don’t see how this is supposed to help me, Boo. You haven’t even found your soulmate yet, so you wouldn’t know…”

“That’s irrelevant, Bug. We aren’t talking about me, we’re talking about you.” Seungkwan smiled and draped his body over yours dramatically. “Here, let’s change the subject, okay? You’ve been able to see colour for a while now, right?”

“Uh.. right..” you mumble.

“So, you have to have a favourite colour by now, right?”

“Oh..” Your lips purse slightly as you look up at the ceiling. “I never… I never really thought about it before.”

“Well, think about it now!” He chirped as he watched carefully for your thoughts.

“Uhh… well, there is one colour that I’ve been drawn to.. but you’re gonna laugh at me.”

“No we won’t, Bug.” Soonyoung soothes, smiling sweetly at you. “C’mon, tell us.”

“Well.. it’s brown.”

“Brown?” Jeongyeon frowns and tilts her head as you nod in confirmation. “What about something like pink?”

“It was the first colour I ever saw.”

Jihoon winced. He knew what was coming next, and he didn’t want to hear it.

“It was the colour of their eyes.”

Taglist

@cinnamoroxie @enhacolor @mikachu-chu @jojowantstocry @changbinisms @scarlet789 @i-dont-give-a-fok @im-gemmy @shookyungsoo @ametheyistheart

#seventeen angst #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #woozi angst #woozi x reader #lee jihoon x reader #woozi x you #woozi #woozi fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen AU

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collisvng · 3 months

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CHAPTER 2 | THE MEANING OF PAS DE DEUX

THE END ZONE 🏈🩰✨

Pairing 🤎 Seo Changbin x Fem! Reader︎

Genre 🤎 SMAU, University/College AU, Ballett/Football AU, Fluff, Angst, Crack—all of that good shit lol︎

Synopsis 🤎 By recommendation of his coach, Changbin decides to take a ballet class in order to improve his agility and coordination on the field. It seems like a harmless and fun activity at first. But what happens when his ballet partner starts to make him choose between the two?

Warnings 🤎 Slight swearing, brief mention of food, Felix being annoying (but we love him tho lol)

Taglist 🤎 Open!︎ ✨

Word Count 🤎 2,173 + 10 sm screenshots!

In Collaboration With 🤎 @channie-143

✨️MASTERLIST✨️

THE UNIVERSITY’S FOOTBALL FIELD WAS THE LAST PLACE YOU EVER EXPECTED TO FIND YOURSELF.

After being given very specific instructions to go through a specific way that led you specifically to the perfect spot on the bleachers for you to be easily noticed—courtesy of Felix who totally isn’t the university’s mascot—you found yourself setting your bag next to you as you sat down to watch the boys do their thing.

It was strange being there. You never considered yourself a sports person and knew quite little about anything to do with the sort. The most experience you ever had with even just the topic of sports being brought up was the few times Seungmin would go on one of his little tangents about baseball. There were also the few times Felix would slip up about football, but it was never prominent enough for you to take notice of.

Legs crossed, phone in hand, you stayed in your spot hoping for someone to say something about your presence. After a while, a few guys on the field started to look your way. Most looked confused while others almost seemed as if they were trying to show off. You didn’t see Changbin though. Or at least you couldn’t make out which guy was him.

After Felix’s 5th wrap-around of the field (ignoring you while doing so, I might add) and noticing your phone battery was at a lower percentage than you expected, you almost decided to give up.

It wasn’t until you heard a slight nasally yell followed by a giggly chuckle that you finally spotted the man.

He ran across the field to promptly smack one of his teammates for messing around and teasing him about his height. He started yelling. Curly black hair fell into his eyes as he took his helmet off, continuing his scolding. His incessant bickering was abnormally adorable to you.

And the laugh that left his teammates’ mouth was lighthearted and cheerful… and almost strangely familiar.

It was around this time you started to notice all eyes were on you except Changbin’s. You debated calling for him, but your actions swayed when you noticed one of his other teammates waving at you. He was somewhat taller, his hair was dark and short, and he had what you could only describe as the nose of a Greek god. The guy nodded in your direction as if to ask why you were there, to which you responded with a quick point in Changbin’s direction and exaggeratingly mouthing his name.

A quick, “Oh, okay!” was mouthed to you in response alongside him giving you a thumbs up.

The teammate walked over Changbin amidst his rant and tapped him on the shoulder. He seemed annoyed, probably assuming he was simply about to be told to quit fighting. It wasn’t until his teammate pointed to you standing up from your seat with a shy smile on your face did his expression suddenly change into the biggest grin you had ever seen.

He jogged over in your direction with his helmet under his arm as you made your way down the bleachers. When you reached the bottom, you gripped the handrail barrier separating you from the field. One of your knees rested against one of the smaller beams of the railing as you leaned forward with anticipation.

The moment a small ‘hi’ left his lips, the happiness embedded in your nervous system was hard to hide.

“Hey.”

“What are you doing here?” He questioned, raising his brow. “I didn’t really take you as a sports-type.”

“That would be correct,” you nodded. “Which is why I am not here for sports…”

You quickly unlocked your phone and held it out to him, leaning into the railing a bit more for support.

“… I’m here for you.”

Changbin stood there dumbfounded. He just stared down at your screen as if the concept of giving a girl his number was the most foreign thing in the world to him. His grip on his helmet grew tighter as he let out the most tense laugh in the universe. It became obvious to you that this ordeal seemed completely different to you then it was to him.

“Oh my gosh, stop overreacting.” The roll of your eyes came out a little less playful then you had hoped. “It’s not like I’m asking you out or anything, okay? I’m just asking for your number because we agreed I would catch you up on stuff for class.”

He nervously nodded as he took your phone in hand.

“Right, yeah, I knew that…”

As he proceeded to put his number in your phone, you looked off into the distance to see the teammate he was yelling at previously staring at you as if you seemed familiar to him; akin to the way you looked back at him.

“That guy you were talking to looks familiar.”

“Oh, Jeongin?” Changbin handed you the phone back.

“Ah, that name sounds familiar…” You nodded. “I think he’s friends with my friend Seungmin.”

“We all kinda know Seungmin,” he shrugged in response. “Since he’s also in charge of the sports section for the school paper, we see him a lot.”

“Makes sense.”

After a bit of awkward small talk, the two of you concluded that you would reserve a room in the dance hall over the weekend. You’d go over the basics he needed to know before the next class, and if he had any questions that needed extensive explanation you promised you’d answer them.

He walked back to his teammates with a cheeky grin as they all began asking him questions about who you were and why you had given him your phone. It amused you to see the group of men all huddled up together like a bunch of high schoolers spilling rumors to each other.

Hearing them faintly ask who the pretty girl was…

It strangely gave you a boost of confidence.

As you grabbed your things and began to exit, you gave a quick wave to your roommate. He waved back for a brief moment, dropping his facade for what seemed like a mili-second before halting and turning to walk away.

“You can’t ignore me forever!” You yelled after him. “We all know you’re the mascot Felix!”

He held onto the mascot head for dear life as he began picking up his pace. Suddenly, he was sprinting.

“NO YOU DON’T! ”

The first class of the next week seemed to go well.

Changbin had picked up on things quite quickly, which impressed you.

He obviously wasn’t going to become a dance prodigy overnight, but he did good with the basic exercises and was fairly good at keeping you level while on pointe.

There was a lot less dropping with him then there was when Han was your partner. And in all honesty, that was all you could ever ask for.

You found yourself laughing here and there whenever Changbin would mess up slightly, giving him encouraging words that he would get it right the second time. And thankfully, you’d be right each time. He seemed so determined.

He had even made the effort to get everything you told him he needed for class. When you saw him walk on the first day back from the weekend with a pair of black ballet flats in hand, you let out a sigh of relief. The man sat there on the floor in front of you, carefully putting them on and looking up at you waiting for some sort of praise. It almost made your heart skip a beat.

By the time the second class of the week had come around, there was a mutual acquaintanceship between you both. When he walked into class and met you at the barre, a mutual smile was shared.

“Mornin’ boss,” Changbin winked as he saluted you.

You let out a short groan in response which only made him laugh. His little maniacal giggle filled your ears and you stood in front of him with your head hung.

“You know you don’t have to be so formal with me,” you slowly rubbed your eyes with your middle and index fingers. “I’m your dance partner, not your boss. I’m here to help you, not boss you around.”

“Eh, it’s fine.” He shrugged. “I kinda like it when you boss me around.”

The words came out with a sense of normality behind them. There were no flirtatious undertones, no coquettish teasing—just a statement with an accidental provocative undercurrent.

The affirmation was enough to make you silently turn away. And when your gaze shifted, you could see Minho (who had been standing by) smirking at you.

“Not a word,” you mumbled low enough for only him to hear.

Minho’s smile faltered for a second before staring straight ahead once more.

When the instructor walked in, the vibe seemed very different than usual.

She was dressed more casually, which was strange, and her intimidating sense of self seemed non-existent for once—but not quite completely gone. You had never seen this side of her before and it left the whole class in astonishment. The woman stood in front of you all, hands behind her back, with her eyes scanning the room.

The room was dead silent until she eventually spoke.

“What is the meaning of pas de deux?”

Her question sent the class into a silenced frenzy. Everyone’s eyes darted at each other in the room waiting for someone to answer.

Eventually, Han’s new dance partner raised her hand and spoke.

“It means a dance for two people. Or step of two.”

“That’s its literal definition, Regina. I’m asking for the meaning.”

The instructor went on to explain how pas de deux is about two bodies coming together to create one soul; two partners coming together to produce one palpable emotion. That emotion differed from performance piece to another, and to construct those emotions through nothing but movement took a sense of dexterity to convey.

There were 3 rules of pas de deux:

You needed to trust your partner.

Unity between your partner and yourself was detrimental.

And most important of all, communication was key.

“Without those things, what we do here is simply just dancing,” your instructor shrugged. “What creates the magic of pas de deux is the harmony of two bodies. And in order to have that harmony, you must get to know your partner. Which is what we are going to do today.”

She proceeded to say that class was actually canceled today, and instead she wanted you to use your class time to get to know your partners more. It made sense, given the recent switch of partners that took place in class a few days ago. You and Changbin had already started practicing together a bit outside of class and the two of you barely knew each other. Perhaps this was a sign.

“I expect you to know your partner by the next class. You don’t have to know every dying detail of their life, but you should know enough to give a brief description of them and some of their interests in front of your fellow classmates. You will be graded on this.”

Once you all were dismissed and everyone seemed to be making their way out of the class, Changbin looked at you with a sort of desperation in his eyes.

“Heyyyy… sooo…”

“What do you want?”

“‘Kay so,” he began, “I actually had some homework that’s due later. I was gonna try to do it during practice but since class is canceled…”

“You want to know if I’m okay with you doing it now?”

He nodded vigorously with the most pouty face you had ever seen. “Please? We can meet up on the weekend again or something to make up for it. I’ll even be the one to reserve the room this time if you want. Just…please…?”

Laughing a bit, you realized how different Changbin made you feel. Normally if it were anyone else, you would have made an effort to force them to stay. You were just getting to know each other, but it was still an assignment after all. You took stuff like that when it came to dance very seriously. But something about him made you feel like you could trust him.

And so you did.

“Yeah that's fine,” you smiled. “I have some stuff to catch up on as well so that works out.”

Changbin stood there, eyebrows raised as if to ask ‘are you sure?’

You nodded, telling him to go.

He smiled, pressing a kiss to the palm of his hands then pretending to throw it at you as he bolted for his gym bag.

“I love you, oh my gosh. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

The boys watched the whole ordeal as they began to gather around you, surprised you let him off so easily.

“We’ve lost her guys,” Hyunjin sighed. “She’s becoming soft.”

A swift kick to his shin shut him right up.

“There we go,” Han smirked. “She's back.”

taglist: @marcillfll @jiisungllvr @chrizzlaptop @babrieeee @soupbinlily @pissmori @chlodavids @marnz1990 @worcesheshestershiresauce @hafrenstay @s00buwu @ismelllikechlorine247 @teenyfinds

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crimson-kisses · 3 months

Note

i just read the "breaking point" story, and i can't help but wonder, what if the s/o, rather than snapping at him (yan! germany) all at once, simply muttered a few snide and sarcastic words every now and then? like imagine he tells them he loves them and s/o saying ily back and then mutters "yeah, i really loved it when you ruined my life's work too." under their breath and then acting like nothing happened, I hope you're doing alright though, and please take care of yourself!

Hmm, I will admit it was rather spontaneous of her to snap such a way. remember though she used to be a lawyer so lol. but your concept is actually more accurate, this would be fun to write. thank you for the consideration though! 🐝✨

Warning: Usual yandere behavior, toxic relationship, physical and verbal abuse.

🇩🇪

die Reizung.

He gives off a sheepish look at first.

And you angrily throw a crumpled white shirt on his face, fuming at the audacity— this man had to even request you anything in the first place. As if you were his pretty little wife.

You didn’t even know his full name, he straight up had some hooligans pick you off the street.

It’s been a month since you got out of the basement, no longer fearing the muscular asshole. Since in your eyes, he was a dimwit.

"Iron your cloth by your damn self, how dare you even ask me that!", you hissed at his face. Then you turned on your heels, walking away from him with a fierce sway of your hips.

You don’t see his disapproving gaze following your figure.

"Why are those dishes piling up?",

You deliberately ignore his question and remain seated on your sofa, even though Ludwig can tell that your mind is elsewhere. Your eyes are unfocused, and your fists are firmly resting on your lap.

"I asked you a question— stop slacking around—", it’s been two months since you have been in the basement.

"Slacking around?", he receives a grumbled response through clenched teeth, "I am neither your maid nor your wife! If you want your dishes to be washed so badly, then do it yourself or hire someone for cleaning up rather than kidnapping someone",

"Come back here,"

Ludwig hissed at you after your retort. However, you simply got up from the sofa and walked away, choosing not to argue once again.

He clenches his fist and takes a deep breath, trying to remind himself that you will eventually understand.

You notice a broken plate in the morning, thrown in the dustbin.

You pull at your hair strands as you try to scream in desperation, but only thing that escapes you is a distraught whine. Almost pulling the drawers off their hinges, you try to make your hands stay still and not shake.

"What’s the matter, searching for these?",

Ludwig watches smugly as you turn towards him, with a deranged appearance. It was just how he imagined you would look like if he— nevermind, was that his expensive vase you had just thrown?

"Nice plan you had there, too bad you were too eager", dangling the keys mischievously, he leaned on the doorframe, flexing his muscles, daring you to try and get it physically.

It has been three months, and he was enjoying how you were becoming restless. You look especially attractive at the moment. It's a shame that you just broke the vase he received from his chancellor.

"Eager to get away from you, some noble man you are",

His left eye twitches as his grin slowly fades away. Ludwig tilts his head, blinking in feigned confusion.

"Have I not been a noble, patient man to you?",

You chuckled dryly, resting your hands on the polished black office table. "Please, as if you would ever be recognized for your nobility, Deutschland. History books say otherwise, don’t you think?",

Both you stare at each other for a while, until Ludwig leaves with the keys and a clenched jaw, a breath escapes as you sigh in relief.

You end up picking up the broken vase.

Fucking hell. The breakfast was burnt and you made sure to give Ludwig the most nastiest, disapproving glare.

"Don’t look at me like that, I have been running late—-“

Rolling your eyes, you watch as he simply throws the burnt food away. With the frying pan.

"Are you used to throwing your messes away?",

You try to reassure yourself that you didn’t flinch as his back hunched up and he turned at you with a glare, teeth grinding against each other.

He simply unties his apron, his eyes still on you.

"At least one of us is trying to fix things up," he whispers. You give him an offended look, keeping your fists on the curves of your waist, tightly gripping the hairbrush you had been using before running downstairs.

“Keep telling yourself that, if anything you have only been hiding your ugly urges all along.”

You yelp and your heart almost bursts open as he throws the apron at you and angrily heads upstairs.

Eerie silence follows. It has been four months.

Unfortunately, he seems to notice your giddy attitude as you clutch the book tighter with a bright smile. His heart squeezes in delight.

Bundled up in the armchair, you try not to think how it smells like Ludwig’s cologne. Or notice that he has been in the library for a while with you, dusting the shelves.

“Why the bright smile?”, he asks, masking his face with an unemotional facade.

“Oh I have simply been catching up on your misfortunes, quite a historical read”.

And his mood plummets to the lowest levels of hell itself. He narrows his eyes at you, making you feel quite accomplished at pissing him off, it was quite a pleasure.

“Give me that. Now”.

He demanded, grip tightening on the duster, his unoccupied hand stretched towards the book.

You blow a raspberry.

Before long, you couldn't help but let out a truly horrified scream as Ludwig forcefully slammed both of his arms onto the chair's armrests. His knee was pressed harshly against yours as he seethed with anger, towering over you.

The book was furiously thrown out of the window, resulting in a deafening sounds of cracking glass.

His eyes glared into your soul, causing you to almost hyperventilate from the sheer terror coursing through your body.

Ludwig gazed at your petrified figure for a while, as if he were devouring your presence with his eyes. Then, he moistened his dry lips, turned around, and began stacking some books.

You stayed seated on the armchair for a long time, staring mindlessly at the calendar.

Five months have passed.

“Where is my office bag I placed in my room?!”, he asks from the bathroom as he hastily wears his jacket.

“Up my ass, search in the dining room, didn’t you throw it over there the last time?”,

“And who’s fault was that?”,

He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to make it appear uniformed. Remembering, he was out of hair gel, he cursed.

“Your fault because apparently you can’t accept that fact that you are a verdammter Verlierer”,

He took a deep breath and tried to ignore the way you implied so many things he would rather put up in the back of his mind. including the vulgar words you have taken a liking to.

“I am not the one held captive”,

He gives you a look and it makes you fume, this piece of shit—

“I wasn’t the one who had my so called mindless fascist delusions shattered”.

You exited the bedroom with a bang of the door, trying to ignore and not run at the sound of a smashed mirror.

It’s been about six months.

"If you bothered to check the calendar, you will know that it isn’t the 1940’s anymore. Get yourself a woman who wants to be your slave",

You slam the magazine near his table and exit his office, Ludwig bangs a clenched fist on his table in frustration at your defiance. He had only asked you to dry up the clothes in the sun.

That was it. Apparently that was too much for you.

He had no issues with doing the house chores, but he was a busy nation. He simply requested you to do this simple chore but god forbid you get off your ass— and your comment irked him immensely, this quirk you had of bringing up his past over and over again to provoke him.

It annoyed him.

He does check the calendar of course, quite intriguingly.

Ludwig reminds himself that it has only been seven months.

You continue sleeping on the couch everyday. And everyday Ludwig carefully places you on his bed to rest and not strain yourself. Everyday you curse at him to not touch you ever again.

But he knows you are simply embarrassed. Trying to keep up a strong and steady appearance, you always hated to admit that you are weak and helpless.

He knows you are trying hard to displease the shit out of him, and that’s why he tries to be patient. And also because he is way too stronger than you, Ludwig knows that deep down you are scared of him, no bite and all bark, he knows you end up having panic attacks over him.

The flinches you try to suppress when he comes near you, holding your breath when he talks to you. He is all aware. Frightened stares, shuddering breath, trembling legs.

He knows and he hates it.

You shove his blanket on his arms and head downstairs in a furious rush, crashing on the couch with your poor excuse of a blanket.

He bites his tongue to refrain himself from reminding you, that wherever you slept, it was something he payed for. Including your dresses, makeup and everything else in this house, it was paid for or built and made by Ludwig.

It will take more time than eight months to thaw your heart.

“At the very least, you can tidy up the rooms and stop, stop trying to break down the door”,

Gulping down the rest of your beer, you give him a nonchalant look.

“Why should I do so? We have had this conversation a dozen times. I am not your maid. And especially not your wife”.

He’s tired, the lack of hair gel has turned his hair into a complete mess, he forgot to buy it again. Ludwig slowly removes his coat, which he placed on the counter where you were leaning.

You try to stay still, but your knees almost give out as he stares at you through his lashes. It’s calm, level-headed look.

His white shirt is folded at the sleeves, tie turned loose and he’s breathing heavily.

“Cant you tidy up yourself? Or is that too beneath your superior ass”, you taunt him, curling up your cherry red lips.

“it’s eleven pm, I have been busy since six am. I am tired”,

“Well you aren’t my husband”.

He gives you that look again and you wonder whether he is offended or hurt. Frankly though, you couldn’t care less.

“Missing your man, süße Maus?",

You bristle at the nickname and the mention of— your boyfriend whom he murdered, right in front of your very eyes.

Narrowing your gaze, you prepare to escape his wrath as you hiss out in a demeaning manner,

“A man— who was much more of a man than you will ever be”.

Swiftly you entered the library nearby after seeing the darkened expression on his face. A heated glare and a reddened hue. You slid down the locked door, ignoring the trembling of your own body.

Nine months. You feel the entire house shake as Ludwig slams his bedroom door.

“You look so beautiful in that skirt, schöne Frau",

“You reek of beer and disappointment”.

Paying no heed to your comment, Ludwig wraps his hands around your waist, he is drunk and you almost gag at the overwhelming smell of alcohol.

“You smell so— *hiccup*— pretty, mein hübsches kleines baby",

“Quite your blabbering, it’s nine am in the fucking morning”.

“I am so glad— so to, ugh, have you as mine”,

“I will never be your woman”.

He stops blabbering for a minute, hands tightening their hold on your waist, you try not to squirm.

His lips hover around your ear, his hand touching your hair and skimming his hands through the strands.

“We will— will see about that”,

You stay still in his arms, his eyes blazing and staring at your soul from the reflection in the window.

You wished your body didn't feel this way. So trapped and writhing in frustration and horror, every touch of his fingers, his breath and look seemed to stain your being.

“I want dinner to be prepared tomorrow”.

He whispers. It’s not a debate or a demand but a warning said in a lovey dovey tone. His tightened grip sends the point across.

It’s been ten months.

You violently throw the plate full of food on a wall nearby, sending porcelain shards all over the place and the food splashed over the wall.

“You… you faked a dead body and made it seem as if I had died?… you— you are nothing short of DISGUSTING!”,

Ludwig gazes at the mess with a disappointed expression, seemingly unaffected by your tears as you break down in front of him.

"Whoever said I faked a dead body?" he exclaimed, forcefully stabbing a piece of steak with a fork. "It was completely real, and I must say, quite familiar with you."

Your lungs feel as if it has collapsed on itself as you fall down to the floor in pure, unadulterated horror. He was joking, a sick pathetic joke to get under your skin, there was no way— no possible way that the burned and mutilated body could have been identified, even through dishonest means, as that of a woman.

"What did my boyfriend even do to deserve this!?, you sick jealous man!!",

The blond simply ignored your tantrums, sipping on a glass of soda, eyes boring down at your crying form.

"At the very least he got a proper burial, rather than being thrown into a lake as I had intended",

Silence.

"I WILL NEVER LOVE A MURDERER LIKE YOU!",

You quickly grab a knife and attempt to attack him, but you end up pushed face-first onto the dining table, with your arms forcefully held behind your back.

"I wonder how you them fooled huh? Still interested in experimenting with things, humans, Herr Beilschmidt?",

He grabs your chin in a vice grip, hand covering your mouth as you try to taunt, spit and hurl insults at him, he only tuts at your behavior with furrowed brows.

You wanted to kill him.

"I don’t want you to mention that man ever again".

Tears well up in your eyes as uncontrollable sobs escape from your body. Ludwig presses you down in that position for a long time as he calls someone on his phone to clean up the mess.

"Don't worry, for once I have taken your advice. They are skilled cleaners who know how to handle a messy situation, if you catch my dry sense of humor."

Eleventh months and counting.

"I HAVE HAD IT WITH YOU. VERDAMMTE SCHEISSE!! ONCE I GET YOU, YOU WILL REGRET EVER THINKING OF THIS HÜNDIN!!",

Ludwig was furious. Firstly, he was hit by a pretty heavy vase from upstairs, and secondly, he was bleeding a fuckton. Thirdly, the front door was open and you had escaped.

The home was clean, laundry done, dishes pristine and dinner warmly prepared, you were dressed so prettily that it melted him so good when he came home tired from work. What he didn’t account for was an elaborate murder plan attempted towards him. Sadly for you, he had suffered worse and was also an immortal.

He was done being patient and playing the nice cop, especially after you had hurled hurtful insults at him, and what was that you said?

This wasn’t the 1940’s? That he had no power anymore, that he was just a pathetic dog with no backbone in that sweet, sweet tone of yours? That he was a sick, pathetic man who will never be loved?

He let out a series of chilling giggles that gradually escalated into full-blown laughter, the sound reverberating throughout the house. He loosened his irritating tie and tossed it onto the ground. Rolling up his sleeves to his elbows, he ran his fingers through his blond hair in frustration.

But also,

This sense of ecstasy, a thrilling sensation he was feeling… he really chose a perfect, wonderfully crazy woman, didn’t he?

It was the end of the twelfth month, and Ludwig made himself a promise to haunt your dreams with memories of the basement for months to come after he had his hands on you.

#queued post #hetalia #aph hetalia #aphblr #aph germany #hetalia germany #yandere hetalia #dark hetalia #yandere #tw yandere #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere community #ludwig beilschmidt #hws germany #yandere germany

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dualityvn · 4 months

Note

Hello again! It's the same anon that asked about the situation where they would kidnap you from before.

How are you today?

(Feel free to ignore or just answer only a few of the questions!)

1.) Is this a heat of the moment choice or something they would plan in advance?

2.) Would this option be something they both agree with, or would one of them be against it?

3.) What method would they choose to kidnap you, and how would they restrain you?

4.) How would they react with us behaving hostile, acting indifferent as if it's a normal situation, reacting scared, or giving them the silent treatment when captive?

5.) How would they react if our will just breaks while captive?

6.) If we escaped, how fast would they find us, and how would both react if we return as if nothing happened?

7.) Can we gain their trust to get freedom again? And how would they react if we tried to escape from them again after gaining their trust if so?

(Can I be "✨🐇" anon, in case I ask anymore questions in the future?)

(Also, sorry for bombarding you with so many questions. I didn't want to spam you with so many, so I put them in one ask.)

Thank you for responding before! I enjoy yandere trope characters for the horror element because of how scary I find them the obsessive and possessive traits (especially the last one). I really like how your character gave me the spooks, but still, how sweet both can be at times! They make me want to learn everything I can about them.

Also, I had no idea about the spider plant at the time when playing, so I got extremely spooked by it/them!

I hope you have a great day/night!

Hi! I'm doing well. And oh boy, this is gonna be fun.

1.) This is something a crazed Keith would do spontaneously. He feels like there's no other way to keep you beside him, so he must use force. If he felt like he had time to plan it, he would. But when he's in this state, he's even more anxious than usual, so he might not wanna wait.

2.) Tenebris would be against it. He's not the type to force people to love him. If he ever managed to force his way out, he'd try to stop Keith or help you escape.

3.) He'd put a sedative in your drink, borrow a car from his parents and take you out to their vacation home, out in the mountains.

4.) If you were hostile, he'd act act sad and keep repeating that all he wants is for you to love him. If you were indifferent or silent, he'd act guilty and anxious. If you were scared, he'd be very doting and sweet to make you feel at ease.

5.) He'd be happy while he's in his crazed state, but once he snapped out of it, he'd hate himself.

6.) He would find you very fast, because as long as you're in the game, he can always know where you are. But if you managed to make it difficult and then simply returned, he'd snap out of his crazy state and start crying and begging for your forgiveness.

7.) If you acted nice enough, he'd eventually return to normal and let you go. If you tried to leave him again, the whole thing would repeat.

I'm glad you've been enjoying the horror aspects of my game! These two do tend to be sweeter than your average yandere, but they still have their messed up episodes.

#duality game #yandere #visual novel #dating sim

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harmonysanreads · 1 year

Note

Bro I have had so much vampire Alhaitham brain rot like omg your writing for him is so good❤️

Imagine how scary it must be waking up in vampire Alhaitham’s house. This man you just met by witnessing him murder someone else who you’re pretty sure was trying to kill you, probably just gives you a “good morning” before offering some headache medicine and water and asking what you want for breakfast. Like ??? I genuinely feel like he would try to downplay the situation so much and when you start freaking out he’s just like 😐🤨 “but you’re safe here.” Choosing to ignore the part where you probably passed out bc ✨literal murder✨was apparently too much for you.

Anyway I’d still love him even though he’s a bit of a weirdo.

Aww, thank you<3

No because that is exactly what I imagined to be the scenario after the kidnapping. Classic Alhaitham, amiright? You don't know if you should be scared, confused, concerned, touched or process the trauma/try to run because a literal supernatural being of a murderer has taken you and now is asking you what you want for breakfast like some sort of a househusband?? It's so overwhelming that you almost pass out again. But the vampire merely takes your hand, rubs the skin soothingly while explaining the situation and what you'll be expected to do from now on in a soft voice. His nonchalance betrays the deranged example you'd seen in every sense and you have no idea what to feel or think. He pushes you not even a bit though, simply asking again what you'd like for breakfast.

#on the inside he's screaming because oh lord he's holding your hand #chit chat ; vampire alhaitham #yandere #yandere genshin impact #yandere al haitham #yandere alhaitham #vampire alhaitham #vampire al haitham #alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #yandere vampire alhaitham #yandere vampire al haitham

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thesparklingwriter · 8 months

Text

the stars have spoken

★༉‧₊˚✧ celeste's 300 follower event [closed]

hey y'all! thank you so much for 300 followers! i really appreciate each and every one of you--i was super worried that my blog would not survive the shadow ban of 2023, and while some pieces that i love are being totally ignored by the algorithm, I'm happy to know that my stuff is finally getting out to people who enjoy it.

as a celebration of both these momentous occasions, i present to you a genshin match-up event!

slots filled [full]

[ 1 ]

apologies for closing early but i didn't realise how much work i have impending and how long they take me, but since so many people have been interested, I’m going to do it again for 500 followers so please bear with me :3

★༉‧₊˚✧ in order to hear the wisdom of the stars, you must fulfill their few simple requests...

you must be following me (i will prioritise people i know have been following me for a while, but I won’t be too strict about it.)

i will prioritise asks that are not on anon

if you choose to send on anon, please leave a blog user that i can link in the post

this event will include romantic sfw pairings with genshin men

if you want fem!reader please specify, but if not, anything written will be gn!reader

i will write 2/3 drabbles

mutuals get a few extra treats :3

i won’t post your ask, but i will reply to it privately to let you know i’ve seen it once I’ve started writing

block the tag [✨]—the stars have spoken if you're not interested in seeing the event or the related pieces

★༉‧₊˚✧ make yourself known...

when leaving an ask:

include a name/nickname you want to be addressed by

describe yourself: your hobbies, likes/dislikes, ideal type, favourite tropes, personality, pet peeves, ideal first date, red and green flags in a relationship, love language, and anything else you think i should know about you (the more detailed you are, the better the result)

inform me if there are characters you simply can't stand to be paired with

i reserve the right to reject a submission if there isn’t enough there to work with

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yourwinchesterbros · 11 months

Text

SUPERNATURAL MAYHEM Part one

The beginning of my favorite crossover is here! I’ve chosen to break this up into two parts as it added up to being over 10k words. Second part will be posted in a few days ✨ If you enjoyed this, please let me know! A like, reblog or comment means so much!

Word Count: 6.5k

Pairing: Jax Teller x Female Reader x Dean Winchester x Soulless Sam

Summary: A long unforgettable night leaves reader with a new view of the world, but will she choose to explore it?

Authors Note: This is a crossover I've been searching for and one night decided to write! If you like both SPN and SOA, then you might enjoy this! HUGE THANK YOU TOO @alohomorasomnium for editing my flaws, you're simply the best!

Warnings: Fairly tame, cursing, use of weapons, use of antidote, kidnapping, kissing, angst, some Dom behavior.

Darkness. It’s all you see around you, like an empty void ready to consume you. Your head is spinning, trying to make sense of your absence of sight. Your ears ring due to the deafening silence of your surroundings.

Where am I? Is the first thought that breaks through the fog, echoing in your mind.

Pain suddenly radiates through-out your body. You realize your shoulders, your collarbone, and your wrists all feel as if they’ve been battered black and blue. You try to shift around but somehow; your wrists are bound behind you. Your confusion grows, your mind fighting through the haze. You blink, feeling fabric brush against your long eyelashes. You try to think back to where you were before this, but even thinking is painful. You instinctively start to rub your temple against the bone of your shoulder in an attempt to push the rough, ratty material that you realize is blinding you. After a few attempts, an old twisted up cloth falls into your lap.

You’re welcomed to the sight of more darkness. It appears you’re in a room, from what you can make out. Your eyes sting when exposed to all the dust that’s hanging in the air. You stifle a cough, irritated that you’ve been breathing heavily, inhaling basically asbestos at this point.

What the fuck?

You blink hard, all your senses coming alive with your eyesight regaining. Pain. Every part of your body aches, your hands are tied to a wooden foundation pillar behind you with what feels like old rope. Its split ends tear into your skin like sandpaper. You try moving your wrists around, to see if the rope will give way so you can free yourself, but it's no use. The bindings, if anything, tighten that much more from your movements. Giving you less and less room to work with. Whoever did this to you, had no intention of letting you go. You shudder at the thought of whoever this mysterious person may be, holding you captive. What they may want…

You refocus your attention, desperately trying to remember anything from before but you can’t seem to recall what happened. Was I at home? Work?

No, there’s no way you’d been snatched from the clubhouse while tending the bar. You must’ve been at home, sleeping?

You lean forward, trying to use your body weight and the corner of the pillar to separate the rope, but it doesn’t work. As you contemplate your next course of action, a horrifying thought plaques your mind.

How long have I been here? How long do I have to get out of here before they come back?

With that now in the forefront of your mind, you gain a new sense of urgency. Frantically, you try rubbing the homemade cuffs against the wood. You ignore the fact that the air is still clouded as your breathing deepens in an effort to free yourself. But once again, you fail. You growl in frustration, throwing your hands back against the wood, ignoring the dull aches seeping from the bruises on your battered wrists. As panic and adrenaline continue to take over, you scan your eyes over your surroundings once more, analyzing the area to see if anything can help you.

With one little window above the wooden stationary table across the room from you, there really isn’t much of a light source. Just a delicate stream of moonlight, illuminating the dust particles dancing in the air, stirred up from your panicked escape attempts. You think again, where the fuck was I? But you come up with nothing.

“God damn it Jax” You whisper to yourself. You knew this was coming, it came for all the women who dared to join the Prince of Charming in his tirades of violence. It was well known history that whoever stood next to Jax, had a death wish. Yes, believe or not, dating the President of a biker gang isn’t as glorious as it seems. Being an old lady makes you an instant target for the enemies of the sons, of which there are many.

Who found you this time?

That’s right, this time. You’ve been kidnapped before. The Mayans followed you home one night. Before you even had the chance to turn the ignition off in your car, you were ripped out of the seat and taken for negotiation. Then there was the IRA. You were held hostage; your life was on the line once again. Literally on the phone line, with Jax on the other end telling Gaelan he would continue distributing for him in exchange for your survival. And now this. You know your luck is bound to run out. Your breathing quickens as you start to accept the reality of the situation. There’s no getting out this time. Is the club even aware that you’ve been taken? The question you keep coming back to is how long have you been tied up in this dingy basement? The fact that you don’t know the answer to that and probably never will, causes a pit of dread to form in your stomach.

“Fuck” you mutter under your breath as you roughly shut your eyes.

This song and dance is starting to get old. To what end is enough, finally enough? Each time your safety is questioned, you tell yourself that it’s too dangerous to go back, that you can’t handle the life; always watching your 6 as well as your 7-8-9.

Yet each time you’re rescued, you’re consumed by the ways of the club, and always end up back to square one. The simple fact is you desire the life. The atmosphere, the people, the machines, the thrill... you feel you belong. That your role is meant to be at Teller-Morrow assisting those men in kutte, offering sanctuary and support for the women in tight dresses, to stand beside the old ladies and keep them on their toes. As for the president that sits at the head of the table; for him you’re the reason he stays resilient and clear-minded. Each time you get a chance to see how short-lived life is for those around the sons, you tell yourself you’re on borrowed time. That you need to walk away, that you will leave the life, but you know you speak the language of lies.

“Quit your bitching” you mumble to yourself, thudding your head lightly against the wood. They’ll find you. They have too. The notorious band of killer bikers always do. You know how much you mean to Jax, and you know they’re probably already on the hunt looking for you. Jax calling all charters for assistance and letting the reaper inside him take the wheel.

The reaper. That side of Jax, he can smell you. Feel your pull when he needs you. Everyone says that he’s the prince but really, he’s the god damn devil himself. He’s feared among warriors, he puts demons to shame. And your soul will always belong to him, no trade necessary.

“I see you’re awake.”

The sudden intrusion of your captors' grating whisper tears you from your thoughts as your whole body goes rigid. Your breathing falters at the realization that you’re no longer alone, your heartbeat getting louder and louder in the growing silence. You can feel the echoing of each beat in your ears. You wish you could turn it off and hide in the dark, in silence.

“Shh... “The sound slithers from the shell of your right ear across the nape of your neck causing your hair to stand on end as it settles in your left ear. You can’t move, your body is frozen in shock, locked in a state of fear. You can’t even bear to look, to reveal the mystery.

“It’ll be quick...” the voice drawls out, an underlying tone of excitement riding with it, riddling your skin with goosebumps.

Just then, you’re startled by a muffled vibration from directly underneath your rear. Holy shit. You’ve had your shitty iPhone 4, in your back pocket this entire time. Regardless, you wouldn't have been able to snake it out from beneath you but the fact that it’s ringing on silent mode, gives you just enough confidence to believe you might get saved. You know it’s Jax trying to get a hold of you.

“Doesn’t matter” you manage to spill out. The two words are all you could say as you clutch onto your mask of composure.

“You won’t receive the same fate.” You whisper, staring ahead. Your eyes glues to an old piece of tape stuck on the wall in front of you as an anchor. You could feel it’s presence right beside you. Feel eyes burning into your flesh.

“Look at me” the low voice says with a sharp hiss.

You clench your jaw. You know you have to face your captor. It’s your best chance for an opportunity to escape or buy yourself more time.

“You see” you start your attempt to distract.

“When you’re in his grip, there will be no such thing as a quick death” you spit the words as you turn, to stare down your opponent.

Your eyes grow wide, the second they make contact with hers. A shriek clambers out of your throat before you can even think to stop it, you try to rationalize what you’re seeing in front of you

“W-what are you!?” You scream at her, as you push yourself back as close as you can against the wooden pillar.

You can’t believe your eyes, as they focus on the woman – no - thing, crouched in front of you.

A smile slowly works its way onto her face. “I always forget how ignorant you humans are…so unaware of what’s lurking in the dark all around you”

She creeps closer, stepping over your legs as she does so.

It wasn’t the fact that her face, lips, arms, her entire body was covered in tattooed lines or that her expression seemed void of any emotion, but it was her eyes. They glowed deep blue. Her silhouette black against the navy hue emanating from her eye sockets. It was unnatural.

“You’re a monster” You utter the words in disbelief, your eyes wide at the creature staring back at you.

She advances again, giving you a better look at her disguised form. It looks starved, deprived of meals.

“A Djinn” her voice echoes as she closes the space between you two. Your mind fills with confusion at her words. You feel her cold touch, gripping your chin. Before closing your eyes due to the blue light blinding you, your eyes focus on her tattoos and how they move… all travelling towards her hand, to her grasp on your face.

Another wave comes rushing through you, but this time it’s peaceful. Not a nauseating sensation but a sense of euphoria. Your eyes roll back, as her toxins continue to seep into your pores. Your mind is abruptly cleared as a moment of clarity hits you. You find yourself in a different world, such as a dream. Your body completely relaxes without instruction. Everything feels… calm. Calm enough to let yourself fall further into the hallucination.

“Grab the girl, I got this!” You hear a deep shout somewhere in the distance, or maybe it’s right in front of you. The now familiar haze in your mind makes it impossible to decipher. Maybe there is no voice at all.

“Dean!” Another voice echoes nearby.

You feel yourself losing consciousness as your hands are suddenly free from their restraints. Your vision starts spinning once again as you feel yourself being lifted from the ground. The motion of being airborne is enough to make you blackout due to being so vertiginous. The last thing you can remember is your arm wrapped around someone’s neck, as this person carries you in theirs. Your fingertips brush against slick, long hair.

“Jax?” you weakly whisper before slipping into the darkness once more.

“Found it! Jax, I found her!” Juice shouts as he runs through the clubhouse, holding his laptop above his decaled head. Jax, who was just inches from walking out the front door snaps around, his face riddled with worry and downright anger.

“Where!?” The president barks back, his glare piercing juice’s very soul. He wastes no time as he turns, continuing to the railing outside, which is accompanied by several Harleys. Following Jax were his comrades from the SOA crew.

“Her cell just came back into service; the ping shows she’s 40 miles out headed towards Oakland. She’s on the highway right now” Juice said, placing the laptop on the outside bench and reaching for his helmet sitting on his bike.

“Aye, Niners Jackie boy” Chibs speaks as he buckles his own helmet on. Jax looks into his brothers’ eyes with flared nostrils, seething.

“If they fucking touch her- “

“Go get our girl and bring her back!” Bobby interrupts from the club door, hollering at the cavalry of big men in leather kuttes straddling their roaring machines.

“I got this; you guys go!” He motions to the men to head out. The clubhouse is accompanying more and more bodies as Jax had ordered a lock down since the discovery of your disappearance. He has learned his lesson from previous threats, it’s the quickest way to make sure all the women, children and other men of mayhem are accounted for.

Bobby chose to stay back and monitor in case the wrong people came knocking. He was doubtful that this was a distraction tactic but the one thing he did know, is that anything can happen. As he watched the bikers ride out, he was thankful for wearing his black shades, as he would have trouble believing his own concealed expression. There was a chance you weren’t making it back this time, and everyone knew.

One by one, they follow their leader, silently preparing themselves for the worst. Jax however, was preparing for war while struggling with the ongoing battle in his head.

Jax hates, truly hates himself for being selfish. It’s exactly what this is. He hates that each time your life has been in danger, he has to face the picture of standing over top your headstone.

Since you came back to Charming, Jax vowed to serve you, protect you, love you. He knew he was destined to be yours when you told him the life didn’t scare you, just the fear of losing him. You agreed to be his old lady, despite all the risks and stand by his side during all the chaos.

Even though Jax would never leave the club, he wishes he could. Every day he thought about how you deserved more. Just like him, you suffered sleepless nights, restless days, endless dry throat from all the cigarettes you smoked to ease the stress away. He thought about the way you startle each time your cell rings, adrenaline consuming you as you brace yourself to receive bad or very bad news. This life, it too affects you. He’s selfish because he holds your freedom in his hand. A better existence. Fuck, you’d do anything for this man no matter how deep it hurts. Yet, he’ll never set you free. You are the only light in his days of darkness, his one true love. This life isn’t easy, but no matter what, you always look evil right in the eye and challenge it. You’re a fighter, and you fight hard. It’s another reason why he loves you so effortlessly. You’d listen if he told you to walk away, to leave Charming and he knows it, but he also knows he’d find you dead before ever granting you that peace.

He tries his damndest to keep his eyes dry, to override the blue with pure red hate, but regardless of his efforts, the tears fall, disappearing into the wind. He wreaks on the throttle harder, hoping the rumble would drown out his sorrow.

“Dean, It’s the only antidote we have, that blue eye freak got away. There’s a chance we’ll need this once we find her again and kill her for good.” The agitated voice spoke right beside you.

“Sammy, I’m not saying this again, give her the fucking antidote.” Someone responded from further away. It was hard to tell over the rumble of.. a car?

“Such a waste, we don’t even know her!” You felt a grip tighten around your arm.

“Give it to her, now!”

“Fuck!” You shriek as your arm is stabbed with a needle birthed from a large syringe. The sharp infliction snapped you out of whatever previous fog you were residing in or maybe it was the effect of the content that was administered into you.

“That fucking hurt!” You shout, ripping your arm out of the stranger’s grasp and holding onto the spot that feels like its bruising already.

“Yeah, well it was that or deteriorate due to your blood getting sucked out, disintegrating your brain” He responds, seemingly sarcastic whilst putting the needle away into a bag.

“Jesus Christ” The voice comes from the driver seat. You look over at the rearview mirror in the darkness, suddenly catching a glimpse of deep green eyes accented by freckles as he drives underneath a spotlight. His face disappears as the dark of the night envelopes the inside of the car once more.

You look up at the man who had been manhandling you in the backseat to find him staring back at you.

“I think it worked” Sam says, looking passively towards the driver. You rub your eyes, as if when you open them again, you’d be back home.

“Good, we’ll keep her at the motel. Try and stray the Djinn off her scent.”

“Why? it would make more sense to use her as bait, draw the djinn back in and finish it off.”

“She doesn’t need to be a part of it Sam.”

“She became a part of it when she almost died, Dean.”

As you listen to these men banter your conscience becomes clearer. You have no idea where they were taking you, what had happened to the creature that was apparently about to feed on you, and what the SONS may be doing to find you. With rising confusion, you snapped.

“Who the hell are you guys!?” You blurt out, interrupting their fight. “And what the fuck was that thing back there!?” You point your thumb towards the rear window.

“Because I swear when she touched me, it felt like… I was drifting away...” You shift yourself upwards in the leather seat, well more like a bench, in this vehicle that these men threw you into.

You watch the man who sat in front of you, his broad shoulders rising as he clears his throat.

“What you saw… is what you think you saw” Dean says slowly from up front, locking his eyes with yours from the mirror again. “She’s a monster… and she was trying to kill you”.

“We really giving her the talk right now Dean?” Sam says with his eyebrows raised. You side-eye him, shocked by how comfortable this guy is. You wonder if this is something they’ve done before. “The less people know the better” He continues.

“Might as well, she saw too much and clearly she remembers, don’t you?” Dean asks you.

You rub your forehead with your fingers. This is all too much. This isn’t really happening, is it? You’ve spent the last year running away from thugs, for what? To run straight into the arms of monsters?

You scoff to yourself, then inhale deeply through your nostrils, eyes shut trying to center and organize your thoughts. You’re capable of handling a lot of bullshit, but this is next level. You make a silent agreement to figure out the truth first.

You open your tired eyes, “Alright, one thing at a time.” You mutter just loud enough for them to hear.

“So, you’re Sam?” You point your finger at the long haired, flannel wearing giant who barely fits inside the car. He nodded; his eyes intense as he continued to analyze you. Maybe to see if the antidote was still working.

“Sam Winchester” He speaks up.

“Winchester… okay.” You whisper.

You glance back to the rear mirror, searching for those earthy forest green eyes.

“Dean, is it?” You question him in the dark as he continues driving down the wet highway.

“That’s right sweetheart” You could hear the smirk on his lip, and you barely know the guy… Kidnapper, savior, whatever he is.

you correct him by giving your name. “That’s a pretty name” Dean replies before his brother interjects with a huff.

“We’re brothers, we work this gig together” Sam says.

You pause with your brows raised. “Gig … as in … killing monsters?” you speak slowly, feeling silly even saying the words.

“We hunt monsters, then kill them. It’s sort of a family business” Dean explains.

You stare at him in disbelief, jaw agape. “Okay…” You drawl out.

“The thing that attacked you was a Djinn. They infuse their victims with poison, which acts as a hallucinogen, which you learned. As you dream away, they drain you of blood until you’re all dried up. The poison also seeps into your bloodstream slowly shutting down your entire system, hence why you needed the antidote.” Sam ever so calmly reveals what could have been your fate.

“Right…” You shake your head, still trying to register all that has occurred. It doesn’t help that every time you close your eyes, you see that blue haze, scouring the inside of your eyelids like veins. Just as you’re about to question more, a white sign with black fonts catches your eye as you speed by.

“OAKLAND”

“Wait, wait, where are you guys going?” Your voice starts to raise as your panic quickly surfaces.

As if Dean can hear the unease in your tone, he responds softly.

“Back to our motel. You gotta stay there and we’ll go back out and finish the job. We’ll take you home when it’s safe”.

You hear Sam scoff.

“Yeah no, I think I’ll manage just fine on my own actually. We need to turn around and head back to Charming, like now”. You turn looking out the back window wondering if Niners are trailing the impala.

“Oh yeah? Being tied up to a pillar is how you manage? How’d that work out again?” Dean questions, tearing his eyes from the road and meeting your gaze with furrowed brows.

“Yeah, thanks for saving me, I get it” You spit back with your arms crossed, shooting a glare at Sam who clearly didn’t want to give you the antidote. He shrugs his shoulders back at you.

“But listen, I’ve got bigger problems on my tail than this monster you guys are hunting, I need to get back to Samcro” You demand, catching Dean's eyes in yours.

“I can’t do that” he says matter-of-factly as if he actually has control over you.

“Hah” You laugh out loud. “Little do you know we’re probably being hunted right now” you say with a grin.

“What are you talking about?” Sam turns to you.

“I deal with real monsters on a daily basis, your worst nightmare is my constant” You speak with one brow raised. “Have you ever heard of a group called Sons of Anarchy?”

Dean stared at you through the mirror, you could just see his half smile cracking, showing a little bit of his perfect teeth “Oh? Those old boys that ride scooters?” he chuckles.

And it was as if Dean had summoned Jax Teller, the Reaper himself because there it comes. The loud rumble of the Harleys, sounding like the impending hoof beats of the horsemen of the apocalypse arriving on the battlegrounds of war.

“We got company” Sam states, as he crawls over the seat from the back to join Dean in the front, he opens up the glovebox and pulls out a pistol.

“Guys, guys just pull over” you try to suppress the panic in your throat. The last thing you need tonight is to get caught in the middle of a full-blown drive by.

Just like that, the men in kutte open fire while they gain speed. That’s their first warning to the brothers to pull over. They intentionally miss the impala as they presume you’re inside.

“Fuck that” Dean curses as he slams on his brake causing an ear-piercing squeal followed by the stink of burning tires - a sharp punch to the nose.

“Jesus!” You spit as you hold onto the seat in front of you to brace yourself.

“Stay in the car” Dean commands as he and his brother step out, slamming the doors behind them.

“For fucks sakes” you mutter underneath your breath as you attempt to crawl over the seat yourself.

The Harleys come to a screech themselves as the men all then quickly step off their steeds. Each one, reaching and pulling out their weapons to point at the brothers. The sounds of Glocks being cocked simultaneously, echo into the night.

Sam and Dean follow suit, raising their own guns, facing the crew.

“Jackie boy, these guys are looking a little too white to be niners” The Scotsman shouts to his president.

“She’s with them” Jax murmurs lowly. His skin screaming, he knows you’re in the impala, he can feel it. He takes his helmet off before hanging it on the clutch.

The blonde man is yet to be armed as he plucks a cig from his pack in an all too calm manner. He slows his strides as he walks over to the brothers in his famous swag, one white sneaker in front of the other. He places his smoke in between his lips before pausing to light the end. His sharp framed face looks eerie, as the light from the flame casts shadows across his cheekbones.

In the still air the crackle of his intake is loudly audible. The smoke drifting from his nostrils before he exhales

His stance expelled power. His feet planted widely apart from each other, one hand to his mouth assisting his smoke. The other clutching his belt buckle. He let his hand fall down, exhaling once more before breaking the silence and the hair-pulling tension.

“Give her to me” He finally speaks, in a low haunting tone. His eyebrows raise with his words before furrowing. He can see your shadow moving in the vehicle, bringing an instant blanket of relief over him.

“Not gunna happen, pretty boy. Unlike you guys, trafficking isn’t really our style.” Dean spits out, never wavering his raised hand, gripping his gun. He can only assume these guys wanted to hurt you, that they used you for whatever needs they required. The fact that they’re chasing you down, guns out, demanding for you like some piece of property, enraged him to his very core. He never liked gangs to begin with but a biker gang? What a joke. He’s familiar with the Sons of Anarchy as he’s a man of research whenever he goes into any new town to hunt. Within moments of searching up Charming, the notorious Men of Mayhem found their way onto the Google search page. They seem to cause trouble, attend a charity here and there, then more trouble again. Their reputation, other than running a consensual brothel which is right up Deans ally, bothers him.

Jax lets out a chuckle, flicking his lit bud to the side of the road. Before it can land onto the wet concrete, Jax pulls out his own piece and points it right at the shorter, dark-haired brother. The taller one flinches at his motions, looking over at Dean. Jax could tell he was trying to read his face, to navigate their game plan.

The Impala door squeaks open, and a light thud sounds as you stumble onto the road as you pull yourself out.

“Wait! Don’t shoot” You call out, causing all the men to turn their attention to you. Jax’s breathing stops as he watches you approach him.

Abruptly, Sam puts his hand across your torso, blocking you from your path; his other still holding the gun.

“Get your fucking hand off of her” Jax then points the gun at Sam as the men behind him holler with rage.

“Move” you mutter as you shove his hand off, continuing towards Jax unphased as you walk to him in line of his weapon.

Dean calls out your name, watching you walk to the leader, his heart pounding while thinking the worst.

Jax scowled at the sound of your name coming out of another man's mouth. He keeps his eyes on Dean as he clutches your waists and pulls you into him. The brothers seemed utterly perplexed that you weren’t a target; more so a member.

With a scowl still residing on his face, he finally breaks the eye contact from Dean to you.

“You okay Darlin’?” He murmurs to you as you lean into him.

“Yeah, I’m fine, get them to put their guns away Jax” you motion to the armed crew behind him “they didn’t hurt me” He tilts his head at you with confusion, his icy cobalt eyes scanning your face.

You turn to the brothers, their concern growing. You knew they didn’t want them knowing about their... occupation. You remembered what Sam said earlier “The less people know, the better”

You look back at your dark prince.

“They saved me Jax, I was tied up in a house” you start to explain “I’m pretty sure it was the Niners, but… I can’t remember shit” you rub your head as you blatantly lie through your teeth.

The brothers were first to lower their guns, Dean raising his hands in surrender.

“She’s telling the truth” He says, speaking directly to Jax.

“We were in the area, heard her screaming, thought we’d check it out.” Sam explains.

“Did you see them?” Jax asks, clutching your waist tighter, bringing his gun down.

“No, by the time we showed up, it was just her'' Sam pitches. “We untied her, carried her out of the house, just trying to help her”.

“Aye, and what were the two of you planning on doing to ... help her?” Chibs spoke out as he grabs his scarred cheeks, trying to conceal the pure hell boiling internally. He doesn’t trust these guys as far as he can throw them. Nothing about this made sense.

Dean scoffs, shaking his head. “She might be right, maybe they do see worse shit than we do” he says, mumbling to his taller brother.

With a dry chuckle, Sam responds “Yeah, you’re telling me”.

Jax releases you, as he tucks away his piece before sliding both hands into his pockets motioning his chin at them with his jaw clenched.

“Wanna tell me why you two are driving around Charming in some shit impala then? Besides searching for women in distress?” Jax speaks sharply, his words laced with hostility.

Dean closes his eyes slowly, his hand curling into a fist. “Shit impala” being repeated in his head. That car is his baby.

“We’re just driving through; we’ll be out of here by tomorrow” Sam intercepts knowing damn well his brother is still trying to recover from that comment.

“Tonight” Jax demands through gritted teeth. He wanted these men out of sight. It didn’t add up, the Niners haven’t had beef with the SONS. Why were you taken? Why did you stay with them? Did they make you feel safe? Was he not enough?

“Tsk” the click of Dean's tongue echoes down the highway before he purses his lips.

“Or what?” he says with a half-smile. He couldn’t help it, he liked to get under people's skin and there was something about Jax that just pissed him right off. It was the entitlement, or maybe it was the fact that you were so calm about the matter, around guns, around bad men. He wondered what kinds of hell they put you through in order to be so tough-skinned.

“Fuck around and you’ll find out” Opie utters, stalking up to join his blood brother in their battle of wills against these two posers. Settling his deadly glare on the taller one with the mop of hair on his head.

“Oh, like how you found her?” Dean snaps back, his voice a deep rasp. “Maybe you should take better care of your women or better yet, maybe I should stay in town, just to make sure she stays alive, cause if it wasn’t for us buddy, she’d be cold by now.” He motions his index finger at you.

Your President jerks forward but before he can get his hands on Dean standing in front of him, you shove yourself in his path, grabbing his kutte in fistfuls. Glaring at his brothers over his shoulder to back down.

“Jax” you breathe, looking up at him “They’re not a threat!”

“I really don’t give a shit” He says, leveling you with his dark eyes. That’s when you know he’s plotting his revenge for you later on. Disappearing doesn’t go unpunished, even if you were kidnapped.

You swallow hard. This isn’t the man that was smitten by you, how his eyes would sparkle at the sight of you, the man that appreciated hearing your two cents, the man that would softly ask you to listen to him when he was frustrated, no. This was the Reaper, and he’s very unforgiving. You know when you’re out of bounds with him, and as of right now you’re on the tipping edge. You blink rapidly realizing just how affected he is by the words spat by Dean. You release his kutte from your hands, feeling his anger radiating from his body. Before you can speak, he cuts you off.

“Sit your ass down on the bike and shut your mouth” he says to you coldly.

That was a direct order. You’re grateful for the dark of the night as it hides the growing red in your cheeks. You hate when he embarrasses you in front of his soldiers like that. You can feel the looks of concern settling on you, the men in kutte don’t particularly like it either but, that’s what being an old lady entails and you signed up for it.

Dean watches you with Jax, his entire body tense with rage. He can’t even begin to understand the relationship you share with this man. He can’t fathom how you’re a part of a gang. You seemed so innocent, so defenseless tied up to that pillar in the cellar. Yet here you stand, next to the President of murderers. Hell, he barely knows you but for some reason, he doesn’t want to leave you there. Not until he knows for sure, that you truly feel safe.

The air is so silent you could hear a pin drop. You slowly make your way over to Jax’s Harley, quietly slipping on his helmet and swinging a leg over the seat. You keep your gaze down, eyes locking onto a little pebble sitting by the kickstand of Jax's bike.

Jax analyzes Dean, how he watches your every step. He grows more and more infuriated as he witnesses Dean struggling not to call out to you, like he thinks he’s some knight in shining armor ready to rescue you from the Dark Prince you’ve seemed to settle with. It looks as if he is worried about you. And Jax simply doesn’t like that.

“Hey, you gunna be okay?” your head snapped up at Dean who called out to you. His forehead creased with lines as he awaited your response. His carelessness was going to get him killed.

“Don’t fucking talk to her” Jax shouts as Opie intervened, standing in between.

“Ill be fine” you responded to Dean in the smallest voice, that it squeezed his heart. You feel guilt rising as you deliberately ignore the glare from Jax for disobeying his orders.

“Tonight it is then” Sam states, not wanting to pursue this any further. His focus was on hunting, not this ‘who’s dick is bigger’ pit fest. He turns to Dean, nodding his head to the impala. “Let’s go”.

Dean remains in his stance, his eyes flicker back at Jax once more, letting out a scoff before following Sam.

“Hey brother, we’ve got the clubhouse on lockdown still. We should get back.” Opie turns to face Jax, trying to read his expression.

“Time to let these wankers get on the road aye?” Chibs joins in. “She’s safe n with us now”

Jax stares at the mystery brothers with his brows furrowed. Absorbing all the details of their features, their car, their potential baggage. He would be sure to remember them if they ever step foot near his town again and more importantly, come near you.

Nothing more had to be said between the standoff of Jax and Dean, their eyes said enough. Jax turns, patting Opie’s chest. “Let’s go brother” he commands.

Collectively the men begin to board their steeds.

You peer up from your lashes, feeling his presence as he walks towards you. He slips his black leather gloves on and by surprise he grips your face, squeezing your cheeks together before giving you a hard kiss.

It’s clear he is marking his territory in front of the brothers; you really aren’t sure why he’s so threatened by the two. You deal with perverse men on the daily, but Jax very seldom had this reaction. He releases your cheeks, glaring towards Dean as he stood watching the two of you before opening the impala door. Once Jax sits on the Harley, you wrap your arms around his waist.

Discreetly you look at the Impala once more, to see Dean looking back at you through his side mirror. You wanted to tell him that you’re thankful he saved your life, to tell him that you’re safe in this club. Well for the most part anyways. You wanted to apologize for the way the sons greeted them. But you knew this was the last interaction you’d have with the Winchesters.

Your heart sinks when the engine turns over. You don’t like this feeling of uncertainty residing within you. You have so much more to learn about, this whole deal with monsters? Is this Djinn still tracking you down? Are you watching the only people that could protect you, drive away out of town, out of your life? You’re left with so many questions and an atmosphere that makes you feel incredibly alone.

The machine below you roars to life, rumbling underneath you, the sound growing louder as Jax steers around. He then squeezes the clutch, and revs his engine, causing the tires to spin out spitting up gravel on the side of the highway which coincidentally patters the rear of the impala before heading back to the direction they came from.

BANG!

Your shoulders dip, your ears ring slightly at the sound of a gun going off. You frantically release one hand off Jax, to turn and look behind you, the wind causing your hair to blow across your face. Your eyes scan, as you’re worried that they had killed the brothers. Tig was the last one following the comrade, holstering his Glock with a smirk across his face. With a sigh of relief, you see Sam step out of the impala, to inspect what appeared to be a side mirror blown into pieces on the ground.

The last thing you saw was Dean stepping out with his hands behind his head, before dropping his arms in frustration. You truly feel bad for them, they don’t deserve this treatment. Surely anyone who offers a hand in protecting your life would be put on a pedestal by Jax but this time, it seemed as if death was as good a reward as any. You feel his chuckle through his kutte, as he’s pleased with Tig’s style of amusement. You place your hands back around Jax, pressing your cheek up against his back. With shut eyes, you try to mentally prepare yourself for the chaos awaiting you back at the clubhouse.

But due to the exhaustion of the night, you drift in and out of sleepiness on the way back to Charming, your mind replaying the scene of those deep green eyes, accented by freckles underneath the passing streetlights.

Taglist @sarah-bear706318 @witchthewriter @spaghettificationandpretzels @ambassadortotrilliusprime @freddaemagnifica @deans-spinster-witchs-favorites @spngingerbread21 @davten74 @alohomorasomnium @withmyteeth

#spn #soa #deanwinchtser #samwinterchester #jax teller fanfiction #winchester #samcro #menofmayhem #crossover #sons of anarchy #dean winchester x reader #supernaturalmayhem #supernatural

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poppylovestowrite · 1 year

Note

Ooh since you are taking request do you mind if I request how a breakup with Karma would be? Bring on the angst 💔

Here comes the ✨angst✨

As for a breakup, it really depends on Karma.

If he was falling out of love with you, he would break up with you as soon as possible.

He would be blunt and straight to the point.

He doesn't want to give you any false hope.

It's only when Karma finishes that he noticed how heartbroken you look.

Of course, it's not going to make him take back everything he says, but that didn't mean he didn't feel the slightest bit melancholy seeing you like this.

If the relationship had good memories, and you treated him well, then yeah, he would feel crappy about breaking up with you.

But he would tell himself it was for the best.

Karma doesn't want to stay with someone he doesn't love.

Love or not, he respects you, and himself to keep up with a loveless relationship.

But, if he was still in love with you, and you were the one to end the relationship. It would crush him.

He won't show it of course.

He would just put up a brave face and simply accept it.

The thought of asking you to give him a chance does occur to him, but for someone as prideful as he is, he refuses to sound desperate.

So he doesn't say anything.

It is only when Karma is alone that he starts to show his emotion.

What he felt first was anger.

Karma doesn't just let anyone come into his personal life so easily.

Yet, you manage to break down his walls.

And only for you to break up with him in the end?!

It was at that moment, he becomes destructive.

All the pictures he has of you were now deleted.

Everything you have given him was burned to ashes.

Even some clothes you left at his house were also burned or destroyed.

He disappears for the night and starts random fights with other delinquents to take his anger out.

His fights were sloppy which wasn't like him.

Only because he was thinking about you at the moment.

You wanted to be on good terms with Karma after the breakup, but Karma just grew to resent you more and more.

He's still mad that you're able to make him feel so vulnerable and hurt.

Whenever he runs into you, he was cold and distant.

His usual teasing was no longer playful or lighthearted.

His jokes were cruel when it came to you.

"What? You failed the last test? Guess I shouldn't be surprised. You've always sucked in algebra. Won't be long before a dumbass like you would flunk out of school."

It took him a while to realize how much of an asshole he sounded and wish he kept his mouth shut.

But, he doesn't apologize.

In fact, he does it several times.

He would always try to put you down every chance he got and even accidentally blurt out one of your insecurities and rub it in your face.

What got him to stop was when he overheard you crying about it to one of your friends.

He secretly bought you lunch the next day and placed it on your desk.

Over time, Karma's anger does fade.

Though, seeing you still made him unhappy.

Thinking about you no longer makes him want to punch a wall, but instead just wishes you didn't break things off.

He's a bit more civil towards you whenever he's forced to talk to you.

But other than that, he chooses to ignore you.

And like all heartbreaks, Karma does eventually get over it.

However, he refuses to be your friend.

You already broke his heart once, and he won't let you do it again.

#assassination classroom #karma x reader #reader insert #karma akabane #breakup #anime #sad hours

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v3nusxsky · 11 months

Note

hehe im back with request well you know this was coming 😅 smut one ofc

prompt ~ Lesso and r are in a relationship and r hasnt been getting the attention she wants from Lesso so when she wakes up and sees lesso already gone of to work she puts her plan in action

she goes to her closet and pics out one Lesso favourite slight slutty outfits she likes on her not 100% inappropriate for work but enough that will get Lessos attention

as there at lunch Lesso catchs a glimpse of r and chokes on her food and r from cross the room just gives her a playful innocence look and smile then leaves the room

so Lesso texts her

“Little dove , my office now!”

r responds “ Lesso i’m busy right now i’ll be there later”

Lesso response“ No ! now pet don’t keep me waiting”

r response “i - im coming “

Lesso response “ such a good dove , you know the rules , kneel by the desk”

you can decide how the smut goes after this but may i suggest

face sitting L on top r

orgasm Daniel

pain kink

misstress/ mommy kink

and any others you can think of

~✨

Kneel now!| NSFW

*Authors note~ this is a bit of a long one but I love the detail in the prompt and the fact it's based off of one of my edits is just woah thank you *

Trigger warnings~ mommy kink dom l sub r face sitting orgasm denial pain kink if you squint? Degrading kink humiliation kink if you squint and edging

Prompt~ see ask^^^^^^

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

The schools for Good and Evil always got busy around exam season, that was a given. But what wasn't a given was waiting for your girlfriend to give you some attention and receiving none. You tried to be patient and tried to understand she was busy but truthfully you felt she was uninterested and that you simply were not important enough for her to make that special effort. That's what set your plan up. If Leonora wasn't going to give you attention then you damn well we're gonna take it.

Leonora had left early due to her hectic schedule which is why it was so easy for you to find the most provocative outfit going. It just so happened to be something lesso adores on you and often try's to get you to wear when it's just the two of you so that she can rip it off your body. This outfit would be the key to gaining what you desired as long as you utilise it's power over Lesso.

To say your choice of clothing wasn't exactly school appropriate would be too polite, you were turning heads of many students but your outfit so it was only natural they whistled and made comments as you walked the halls. Their attention wasn't whom you desired so you ignored it and headed straight to the food hall. Upon entering, the hall went silent apart from the sounds of the normally composed red head coughing and spluttering over her food. You sent her an innocent smile and walked through the hall to find your breakfast. You could practically feel her eyes boring into your ass as you walked.

Breakfast was only the start, you had a class then a free planning period so you decided to shoot off a few less than innocent texts and even a picture of what you wore underneath the dress to your lover. You knew she wouldn't reply straight away, she was teaching but the anticipation just made it ten times more fun.

A few hours after the picture was sent your phone dinged indicating you'd finally caught her full attention, "Little Dove, my office now!" Now there were two ways you could play this, you could submit and scamper off to her beck and call or you could be a brat. You obviously choose the latter and began to craft your response, "Lesso im busy right now I'll be there later." You couldn't help but bite your lip as you pressed send, normally you wouldn't dare to be so disobedient to your mommy but today clearly you had set out on one mission, to gain her attention.

"No! Now pet, don't keep me waiting!" The reply followed by the sound of the bell signaling lunch hour, you had no more classes left for the day which Leonora knew. You sent a quick reply before hurrying out of your classroom to her office, "I-im coming." You didn't even get out of your classroom before a reply shot back in, " such a good dove , you know the rules , kneel by the desk" ah fuck, you were most definitely not going to be able to walk after this.

You quickly entered the office stripping your clothing as you entered leaving you bare to kneel by her desk just as she had taught you to do. You wanted to be good, to earn her praise and affection you just wanted attention. Leonora paid you no mind, knowing the humiliation being knelt down naked while anyone could walk in or peer through the windows added to your arousal. The mere thought that someone could see you in such a vulnerable position had you dripping on her hard wood floors instantly.

"Mommy" you whined after about 15 minutes had trickled by, "please" you whimpered as she tutted in your direction. "Up and over my knee whore" she demanded as she shuffled back to make room for you. You bent your self over her knees as your ass was sticking up in the air, you knew what would come but yet the first blow still stole the breath from your lips, "one mommy!" Sometimes the blows were spread out and sometimes they were in quick succession also changing in strength. By the time you reached twenty five you were sobbing in her lap, a hand pressed on your back to hold you in place as she delivered the last five blows. Her fingers tracing your folds, "such a slut, you got dripping wet by your own punishment, such a dumb whore."

You now found yourself tied up in your shared bed as your lover straddled your face. Your only instruction was to make her cum. You'd riled her up all day it was only fair that she used you until she felt satisfied once more. If there was one thing Leonora loved it was riding your beautiful face, smothering it in her cum as you desperately licked around your face to get another taste of her. "Pretty cum slut, can't get enough of mommy can you" she teased clambering off your face to grab the favourite little vibrator you seemed to miss her getting it ready before she sat on your face.

Leo once again straddled your face once more as you immediately began to instinctively lick her leaking folds. The vibrations driving you insane causing you to moan into her cunt, Leonora moaning above you alongside your own pleasure was dizzying, your need to orgasm only growing to an impossible height. Leonora came for the third time before she shuffled off your face with shaky legs and immediately shut the vibrator off and with the flick of her fingers you were both cleaned of her slick and your thighs cleaned of your own.

"Mommy?" You whined sounding like a pouty child. "No darling, only good girls get to cum, you were bratty and instead of asking mommy for attention you decided to act like a whore"she murmured before kissing your sweaty forehead, "take the punishment baby, we will reconsider it later if your Mommy's good girl." You may have gained her attention but she was now satisfied and you were needy and painfully aroused. Knowing Lesso you knew if you behaved well she would put you out of your own misery tonight.

Word count~ 1315

Tag list~ @farahtissaiamyloves @i-write-sometimes-maybe @blu3berrykiss3s

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #lady lesso #anon requested #sfgae #leonora lesso #lady lesso x reader #lesso x reader #lady leonora lesso #leonora lesso x reader #lesso smutt #lesso x reader smut #lady lesso x you #dean of evil x reader #dean of evil

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letarasstuff · 2 years

Text

"Your voice is so annoying, Spector"

(A/N): After noticing the lack of platonic fics for Moon Knight and the characters, I decided to write one of my own. I hope it's alright, I tried to stay close to what I have read and researched about DID, if there is just the bit of misrepresentation, I apologize and am ready to change any bit right away

It's a female reader!

Summary: Reader, who is a relative to Marc, is confusingly snappy towards everyone. How long takes it for them to realize, that the teenager is actually on her period? (Spoiler: Neither Marc nor Steven are able to figure it out, my two lovely dumbasses)

Warnings: Mentions of periods, cramps, reader's father has a name and is a petty criminal, but this are the only things I specified, tooth rotting fluff balancing some slight slight slight angst out, Steven and Marc being adorably dumb, cutest Layla stuff of all time

Wordcount: 2.4k

✨Masterlist✨

_________________________

Marc, Steven and the third party they still need to get acquainted with, feel like they get their days under control ever since they started working together. Switches happen more voluntarily, the communication in the system is somewhat organized and they slowly work through the trauma they endured. Layla stays at their side through all of it, never losing the love for her husband. Maybe even finding new love with the others, but this is something that needs to be addressed at a later point. Why?

At the moment their lives are more chaotic than originally anticipated. Marc’s cousin, a man he only trusts as far as he is able to throw him without the suit on, contacted him a few weeks ago, asking for a big favor.

See, Marc doesn’t trust him without a reason. It’s just an open secret in the family that he is a textbook petty criminal, everybody just chooses to ignore it when they cross paths with him at family gatherings.

“Marc, my friend, I wouldn’t ask you this if it wasn’t necessary. But I can’t do it on my own at the moment. I swear, this arrangement isn’t a long term thing, one month tops. I just need time to sort some things out and everything goes back to normal and we can pretend that this never happened.” Exasperated, he sighs and throws a glance to Layla, who shrugs with her shoulders. It’s something between Marc and Joe.

He looks back at his cousin, who makes a pleading face. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he comes up with a decision. They are family after all. “Yeah, alright. Just let us clear some space in our apartment and you can come by tomorrow with her. But this better be a short term solution, Joe.”

This conversation happened three months ago. Ever since, his cousin's daughter, (Y/N), lives with him, Layla and Steven together. Marc has the sneaking suspicion that this situation will stay even longer like that.

See, it’s not that (Y/N) is a bad kid, it’s quite the contrary, really. For a 14 year old teenager she is the most behaved and best mannered person he came across with. It’s just with him being Konshu’s and Layla being Tawaret’s avatar, they practically drew a red cross on her back and made her a target for any of their enemies.

“Mate, we can’t let her go home.” The timid man tells him as he fed Gus. Through the reflection of the aquarium, he looks at Marc with supplient eyes. “You know as well as I, that Joe is a bloke. Sending her back at some point will be the wrong thing. Joe is crooked and dumb, a dumb criminal, who probably gives his real address to other criminals. (Y/N) would be in more danger with him than here with us.”

One night he talked to Steven about it.

While watching the flakes of fish food sink to the bottom of the aquarium, Marc mulls over the arguments Steven presented. “Do you think Joe had more reasons to trust her with us than simply being a new single father after the break up with her mother?” At that, Steven bites his lips. Of course he had thought about that. The possibility of more being behind this whole ordeal than an overwhelmed father already crossed his mind several times.

“I do. That’s why she needs to stay.” His voice is firm, validating Marc in their decision.

Just a few days after their conversation, Steven asks Layla to talk about that topic.

“Luv,” She smiles at his accent and lovely tone. “Yes, my dear?” Steven looks a bit disturbed at her attempt of an English accent, but continues his quest nevertheless.

“Marc and I talked about something a while ago and we wanted to know your opinion on that matter,” he nervously wrings his hands while getting out the words. Layla spins her desk chair towards him, indicating that her attention is on him. For self assurance Steven nods to himself before forming his next sentence. “We thought about asking (Y/N) to move in with us permanently. She would be safer here and especially teenagers need a constant in their life, you know while going through puberty, where everything changes, and it’s clear that the uncertainty of not knowing when Joe asks her to move back in with him is gnawing on her. We can give her the home she needs, but we don’t want to do anything without you on board and- bullocks. I’m rambling again, innit?”

With a smile, Layla nods. “You did, but I get your point. Actually, I thought about this for some time now too and came to the same decision as you. We can make this work right? Being the guardians to a teenager?” He gives her a hopeful nod, plunging into an explanation on why and how they’ll manage it.

The only thing they need to do is ask (Y/N), a task they decide Marc has the pleasure to do. After all, he is the one related to her. He already has a whole speech prepared, ready to fire it off the next day when he sees her in the kitchen. She stands patiently next to the kettle, waiting for it to get done with its job.

“Hey, (Y/N), there is something I want to talk about with you. Do you have a minute or two?” Marc asks after awkwardly clearing his throat. Without looking up from her intense stare on the kettle, she answers him with a tense “Make it quick”.

Her reaction takes him aback, not expecting this kind of a tone. Moved by it, Steven takes front and starts talking with a soft voice. “You alright, love? Is there something wrong?” The glance she throws into his direction could kill. “No, but thank you for crashing the conversation I had with Marc.” Scared by her cold demeanor, Steven leaves the front and Marc jumps back in.

“I’m sorry for that, I just want to ask you something. Maybe we want to sit down for it?” Annoyed, (Y/N) rolls her eyes, though she takes a seat at the dinner table. “So, as you know, you live with us for quite some time now, not that this is a bad thing. It’s not bad at all. On the contrary, Layla, Steven and I are happy to have you here. In fact, we feel like you live here for-”

Once again, the teenager sighs, effectively cutting Marc off. “I told you to make it quick. God, your voice can be so annoying. What’s even your deal, Spector?” She gets up from her seat and pours the water from the kettle into a hot water bottle. In his surprise by her sudden outburst, Marc completely oversees the fact that she doubles over slightly.

At his silence, (Y/N) continues her word attack. “What happened to the great Marc Spector? Cat got your tongue?” She sees another switch happen, assuming it’s going to be Steven, she leaves the kitchen. The smash of a closing door is heard, indicating that she is back in her room.

The man shudders, the switch being not super fluid or peasant feeling, and looks around with frantic eyes, as if he is trying to locate something. ��Where is the- danger? Just the little girl..” He mumbles under his breath. “I’m here because you are scared of the girl?!” Annoyed, he gives the front back to Marc, letting himself melt back into the inner world.

As confused as he is about the last few seconds he is apparently missing, his priority is more with his teenager than the other situation. Knocking at the door, he is asking for entrance.

No way mate, she is bloody mad at us. We can be happy if she isn’t beheading us, Steven tries to consult him. He is the more empathic one, knowing when a situation needs to be left alone in order to be solved. But Marc isn’t having any of this. He wants to get to the root of this, and that rather yesterday.

“Go away!” His request is answered with another shout. “Come on, Bean. Let us talk.” Marc’s patient is wearing thin. He just wants to ask her to stay with them permanently, what is so difficult about that?

“NO! You are not my dad!” “I might as well be, so please let me in and talk about all of this!” A hand on his shoulder startles him. Layla has come back from grocery shopping, finding her husband in an argument, where he is definitely losing.

She meets his desperate look with a light headshake. “Don’t” she tells him softly, knowing exactly that he is about to say more. Digging himself a deeper grave than necessary. Yeah, this pretty much sums Marc Spector up.

“Give her some space. Then let me talk to her. You know, when a woman thinks men are stupid, a man can’t fix that problem. Take a walk and let me solve it”, she gives him a small smile, tucking some of his looks out of his face. Marc leans into her touch, before letting Steven take front. “Thank you, darling. I tried to get him to leave her alone for some time now. He is a stubborn one, isn’t he?”

For a few seconds Steven lingers, savoring her touch. Then he announces to get started on his “mean beans and chips”. Between the two, Steven is usually the one who cooks. When Layla isn’t available and Marc fronting, it’s more the frozen pizza or “sammiches” in good old Chicago style kind of diet for him and (Y/N).

“(Y/N),” Layla softly calls for her after knocking, “May I come in?” A sniffle followed by a small “You may” is heard.

Upon opening the door, she finds their entrusted teenager curled in a ball crying on her bed. Layla is immediately by her side, putting her head in her lap and runs her hand over her hair in a soothing manner. “Oh Honey, what happened? Do I need to hurt Marc? Did he make you cry? I’m ready to skin him for you.” But all the more or less light hearted threats are not able to lessen her cries.

“D-do you think Gus feels lonely when I’m at s-school and you two are out. I mean, I wou-would be.” Sobs break through (Y/N)’s sentences. “Oh Honey, I don’t think he is lonely. But we can get him a friend. I’m sure Steven will be over the moon. You can name his friend, if you’d like.” Layla pulls her into a hug, rocking both of them forth and back until the sobs are dying down.

The teenager wipes her tears away, attempting to give Layla a smile. “Can we call the other fish Augusta? Gusta for short maybe?” “Of course, we set this on tomorrow’s to-do-list, maybe we even find some new cool decorations and plants for the aquarium.” (Y/N) nods, feeling a bit better already.

“I didn’t want to scream at Marc and Steven. I just- It’s- I got really bad cramps and I only wanted to get back under my blanket and die,” she tries to explain her actions. Layla pulls her close again. “Oh Honey, they’ll understand, I gave them both the period talk already. There is nothing to be ashamed or scared of. It’s natural, as dumb and unnerving this may sound.” She tells her softly. The kind spoken words move (Y/N) to the kitchen, giving her a boost of confidence to face the men she wronged.

“Steven?” He looks up from the pot of beans and spots a shy (Y/N), who nervously plays with the sleeves of her shirt, standing at the door frame. “Yes my luv?” She takes a deep breath, setting her eyes on the pot on the stove. “I apologize for how I talked to you earlier. I didn’t want to be mean, even though I know I was. It’s not a good reason, but I just got my period and the cramps were bad earlier and it all was just so frustrating that, that-” “That you needed to take it all out and I was the closest punching bag, wasn’t I?” He asks her with an understanding smile. At that, she releases a breath she held, scared of his reaction.

“Yes, I guess. I’m sorry for that, I need to work on regulating my emotions.” Unexpectedly Steven engulfs her in a hug, pulling her impossibly close to himself. “No need to work on these emotions, luv. You have every right to be pissed, and if it’s me, who is the closest, I’m gladly your scapegoat,” He reassures her. (Y/N) grips the back of his shirt tight, relishing the embrace.

“Did Marc hear that?” As an answer she feels how the grip on her changes, nearly clasping at her. “I did, Bean.” She nods into his shirt, taking another deep breath. “I’m sorry, your voice isn’t annoying. It isn’t at all annoying, it can be really calming. But I just was so mad at everyone and the world. This whole situation- it’s just wearing me down. The unknown- I really hate that.”

Marc understands right away what situation (Y/N) is implying. “Oh right, this is actually what I wanted to talk to you about. Steven, Layla and I wanted to ask you to move in with us permanently. Of course, the decision is all yours, but we would be really happy if you say-” “Yes! Yes, I wanna stay with you.”

A whole lot of crying and hugging ensues and somehow (Y/N) finds herself in the middle of a group hug between Layla and Marc.

Which eventually has to be broken up, because Steven’s cooking alarms the smoke detector, ending in a chaotic mess of trying to get the smoke out of the kitchen, switching off the alarm and somewhat saving the pot.

Not long after this the three of them sit on the couch, a pizza carton in each of their laps, watching some stupid and inaccurate documentary about the Egyptian Gods. And the world is ok for a little bit.

If you've come so far, please consider leaving a comment or a reblog, it's like watering your flowers, it helps us as writers to thrive

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @venomsvl @jswessie187 @kneelforloki @ssa-uglywhore27

@fanficwritersworld

(if you want to be added, just hmu in which works you want to be tagged)

#moon knight fanfiction #marc spector x reader #marc spector x teen!reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x teen!reader #layla el faouly x reader #layla el faouly x teen!reader #moon knight platonic #x reader #x teen!reader #tw: period talk

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nayatarot777 · 2 years

Text

*photos not mine

🌞 daily messages 🌞 16 oct 2022 ~ pac

✨ pile 1 ✨

I’m seeing a lot of success with something. Something that you may have had to fight and wrestle to achieve. There’s so much happiness here, due to a feeling of support from others as well as motivation, passion, and self-discipline/control regarding whatever this is.

There’s a major change happening here. I’m feeling like for some of you, it’s got something to do with your ego and who you are. Major personality changes that are more accustomed to who you truly are.

You could notice a lot more confidence coming from within, or a feeling of being supported physically but mainly spiritually. A sense of knowing that the universe has your back.

Someone could give you a message about a victory of yours. Something to do with you having silent strength too, and succeeding with taming certain aspects of your ego to better yourself. You’re standing out.

There’s a lot of energy that’s just surrounding the individual control that you have over your life. You could definitely be travelling, moving into your own space and domain. Whether that be about a home, a business, a project, or any other situation that you call the shots in. Leader energy.

A lot of fire energy coming from this pile. Aries, Leo, and Sagittarius. Leo is more prominent.

✨ pile 2 ✨

You guys might have been in a situation where you either had multiple options to choose from, or there were multiple ways that a situation could go. None of these options fulfilled you though. If anything, they overwhelmed you and left you confused on how to even move forward with any of them, resulting in a period where you felt stuck - especially emotionally or with your dreams specifically.

You need to listen to your intuition and walk away from this. This could simply be emotional rumination and worry about the outcome of a situation. I feel like you’ve been trying to ignore the message from your intuition about surrendering and accepting. Knowing that you will get the complete emotional fulfilment and wish fulfilment that you’re aligning with by simply believing that Spirit has got you.

Maybe your rational side of your mind is telling you not to be so gullible and naive, due to resistance against believing that you’re literally going to be gifted the life that you’re dreaming of, but you can’t shake that intuitive feeling. Because it’s your truth that you’re feeling.

Give up control over this situation. I’m hearing that you should put yourself into an ego state of KNOWING that you get whatever you want because you’re highly blessed and favoured. This is your true alignment. You’re waking up to the consciousness of remembering what it feels like to be a child of the Divine. You don’t even have to settle or work for anything more than you really need to. The Universe loves to gift you with blessings. A major blessing this time around. As long as you trust and believe.

✨ pile 3 ✨

You’re running into a much happier and joyful time with others. You’ve aligned yourself so much that you’re attracting people to you who are on your vibration - especially emotionally. Very strong friendships in particular. I still see some hating ass people from the past though, jealous of any glow ups and successes that you’ve experienced. Especially in a work space or something that you’re just better than others at, skill wise. Protect yourselves from evil eye, pile 3.

You’re making jealous, low vibrational people mad with the life that you’re creating for yourself. And at the same time, attracting so many people who you fully connect with and enjoy spending time with.

You could be celebrating something, or just going out and having fun. Completely uncaring of those who wish to judge you for being happy with others and within yourself.

You’re the type of person who, because you’re now so aligned to yourself and who you actually are, it’s like you naturally repel negative energy. You may be realising that the people who aren’t good for you are always blocked from really getting close to you. Either your connections with these people have been cut, or there was never a chance for one from the beginning because Spirit hit them with that block. ✋🏾🚫

These people are copycats and are mad because they can’t replicate what you’ve been creating. Continue doing your thing, pile 1. Continue protecting your energy and showing tf out with whatever you’re working on. Could be yourself and your glow up.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Check out my YouTube channel! - Naya Tarot

Details for private readings are in the descriptions of my videos 🤍

#pick a card #pick a photo #pick a picture #psychic readings #divination #pac #tarot #tarot reading #spirituality #pac reading

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shawtythatluvsurgut · 1 year

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(If you’re a minor: go finish your english assignment, stop being thirsty, and get off this page.)

Welcome to my blog!

Introduction

I’m a dominant feeder from the United States. I’m a chef and I love to cook! Something that I love even more than cooking is feeding and fattening up feedees. I also love cats, nature, and art. I have an Onlyfans, so subscribe to see some spicy content 😈

Note:

Shitty behavior does NOT and will NOT fly here. That includes (but is not limited to): fatphobia, pedophilic behavior, promotion of violence, threats against myself or others, intimidation tactics, misogyny, lying/manipulating, ignoring the feelings of others, homophobia or any other type of bigotry, or attacking the feelings of others. I also will never share nudes with a soul on here because - let’s be real - a lot of mfs on this hellsite are not great people and I’m not down with that. Don’t bring that bullshit here. Don’t ask me to send you nudes. I will say no.

I will stand up for myself and others who I believe I should defend. If you don’t like that, you’re gonna hate it here so you might as well leave. I only want authentic, genuine, honest, good people following this blog. If that’s not you, don’t waste your time because I will see that and I will leave you on delivered. Don’t be rude or pushy; demanding or demeaning in my dms because that’s a great way to get ✨ blocked ✨

I also will not follow you back if you are a blank blog. No hate because I know some of them are not catfish accounts or scammers, but I still don’t trust blank tumblr blogs.

Okay, now that I’ve gotten that out of the way, here’s what you should know about me:

I’m a FFA and I have been for my entire life (The Santa Clause weight gain scene was my awakening and will forever hold a special place in my heart)

I am a feeder who has a feedee irl

I live in AZ

I’m an athlete and have been my whole life (collegiate level track sprinter)

I am bisexual. I like both men and women, but I lean more towards femininity

cats are the cutest animal on the planet

cats are also every other positive adjective you could use to describe a cat

I love my homies (this definitely includes internet-homies of mine) and I will defend them if I feel it necessary

I’m mad short and I’m mad about it. (Five foot three like are you fucking playing with me?! Give me a few more inches at least!!!)

I’m mad strong and can beat you up

I am an artist. My styles are realism, surrealism, and modern. I paint, draw, and write (though, it’s usually sexual fiction that I have kept to myself)

This blog is KINKY AS FUCK. I have a FAT FETISH. If you don’t like that, then leave because I literally did not ask! Here are things I am NOT into. I draw a hard line at these things:

• I am a dom through and through. Don’t send me asks implying otherwise because that makes me uncomfortable.

• ^^^ NO pet names or possessive language (ie: “my princess” or “my piggy”) (I don’t belong to any of you)

• NO age play

• NO rape/sa/abuse fantasies or you will be BLOCKED

• I want to reiterate: NO FATPHOBIA!!! I WILL COME FOR YOUR THROAT!!!!

• I’m not turned on by burps or farts, and especially not unsolicited nudes so please keep that stuff to yourself

• I’m not mean. I swear. I just know how I should be and deserve to be treated. I don’t tolerate bullshit because I don’t have the patience, nor is it my responsibility to teach anyone the basics of respect. Your lesson if you choose to cross my boundaries will be getting blocked by me, and I will simply continue on with my life.

• NO vore

• Not really into the expansion kink

• NO diaper, loli, or little kinks

• Do NOT message me if you are 40+ (because I’m too young for that)

• NO age play

• NO bossxemployee or teacherxstudent power dynamics

• NO death feedism (I stress this one because I want y’all to at least try to be a bit mindful of what you’re consuming large amounts of. I don’t want y’all dying on me)

I AM into:

• feedism

• feedism-related art/writing

• weight gain denial

• force feeding

• Shibari (bondage)

• femboys

• thicc/fat women and men

• submission (to me hehe)

• WEIGHT GAIN!!!!

• belly kink

If you are curious about whether or not I’m into anything not listed here, feel free to ask.

My social media handles are:

Instagram @feedernico

Tumblr @shawtythatluvsurgut

If you follow/message me on there, the same guidelines apply. Don’t try anything malicious over there because you will get exposed and blocked. Please message me on here before/when you request to follow so that I can accept it. If I change my handles at any time or get a new social media, I will update you guys here.

I use the hashtags #ffa #female feeder #fit female feeder and #it me on posts I make of myself. I also watermark every picture of me because I’m not about to deal with catfishing. I don’t fuck with that shady behavior, or any shady behavior. Don’t try to manipulate me because I can see past it. Don’t lie to me because I can see right through it.

Now that all is said and done…

Have fun and keep eating! 😈 I love and appreciate all of my respectful followers and I hope you all have a beautiful life!

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mikuni14 · 4 months

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The Sign and Twins are my current favorite shows and they both conspired to hurt me. And to make it more audacious, at the end of the year, what a dick move:

both pairs literally regressed in development

First and Phaya are not having their best time 🥺

First and Phaya are really hurt by Sprite and Tharn's behavior

despite everything, even if they claim otherwise, Sprite and Tharn put themselves and their needs above First and Phaya and their needs, their opinions, their well-being

Sprite and Tharn have absolutely no thought about the consequences of their actions and that those consequences will affect First and Phaya, not them. Sprite thinks that somehow it will work out (if he thinks anything) jfc. Tharn thinks that he is actually doing the noble thing and protecting Phaya and probably even Dr. Chasehiminthewoodswithanaxeforsport

none of them use their brains, everything Sprite does is spectacularly stupid and Sprite doesn't think at all that he simply physically and technically can't continue his relationship with First as Zee. The most important person in Tharn's life - the abbot - literally advises him what to do, which is to be with Phaya, trust him and help him, Phaya is always saved from danger BECAUSE THARN IS WITH HIM, and what does Tharn do? He chooses to stay away from him, ignore him, don't trust him. Fuck good advice, fuck facts

lack of communication, pretending to not care, the "siding with the evil, manipulative rival" trope, lying, pretending to be someone else, the noble "staying away to protect my love" trope, all this has never been, is not and will never be cute and sexy

I liked Sprite's dumbness, his himbo charm. I liked how Tharn was worried about Phaya, it was lovely. But at this point, what they are doing has stopped being cute and understandable and is just plain annoying and worst of all… painful to watch.

I will now rewatch previous episodes of The Sign to start the new year in a good mood ✨🥳🥂

#twins the series #the sign the series #thai bl #bl drama #when will my good time from watching these series #return from war? 🥺

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gaumrivale · 2 years

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✨Seven Pegs to Hang Your Hat From✨

An Aid for the Fledgeling Witch at the Crossroads of Praxis

This is an aid I made, primarily to help myself - a chaos witch - in figuring out what my craft entails in the absence of any guiding tradition.

I do not hold that it is perfect or final, it is simply a framework that I myself found useful, and that I hope might aid others as they figure out their own path. Change it if you want, ignore or elaborate. Whatever floats your magical boat.

First, a place to begin:

Hopefully, these few introductory questions might spur some thought that might help you later on. I do not expect this to be clear for most at the beginning, it wasn’t for me, but having considered the whole of it before you move on to the details might bring some perspective on how and what you choose to weigh and answer.

WHAT BRINGS YOU TO THE CRAFT?

Why is it important to you?

What interests you about it?

What do you want from it?

Secondly, the particular pegs:

I have not numbered these, nor do I think they need to be approached in any particular order. In fact, I think answering what you can and then going to reconsider what you were struggling with in light of these answers is probably only beneficial.

HERITAGE: What do you build your craft from?

Do you follow or aspire to a tradition?

Do you have any idols or aspirations?

What resources are available to you, or where can you find them?

TENETS: What principles or perspectives guide your praxis?

Do you have any maxims, laws or taboos?

What outlook do you have on the world and on magic in general?

What ideologies influence your craft?

What are the qualities and risks of witchcraft in your mind?

BONDS: What connections inform your craft?

Do you interact or wish to, with supernatural beings?

Are you part of a community - a society, coven, family or do you have a familiar? How does this inform your craft?

What does the world look like to you? How far does it extend in your mind, and what qualities does it have?

How do you understand yourself in relation to other beings?

SHRINES: What places are important in your craft?

Are there particular places of significance to you? A temple or a holy place?

Are there general places of significance to you - locations with inherent qualities of transcendence, knowledge, power, etc?

HOLIDAYS: What events are important in your craft?

Do you have fixed days or times of particular significance to you?

Are you obliged to to initiate particular events of significance in your craft?

Are there events beyond your control that hold particular significance for you?

FETISHES: What objects are important in your craft?

What are your tools?

Are there objects to be made or found that have inherent qualities important to your craft?

Do objects become magical through your craft?

RITUALS: How do you perform your praxis?

What actions do you or do you want to perform that are witchcraft in your mind?

What qualities do these actions have that make them witchcraft?

Why do you perform these actions?

I hope this list of prompts might be helpful to some of you,

Regards ✨

#witchcraft #chaos witch #newbie witch #baby witches #eclectic witch #witch blog #baby witch #witchery #beginner witch #witchblr #witch #witch community #witchlife #witch help #green witch

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sparrowsworkshop · 10 months

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“All I Am” by OneWingedSparrow, for Zelink Week 2023; Chapter 1: Deceptive Appearances

Next Chapter >>> (Coming Soon) Fic Summary: The captain of the Knights of Hylia has been tasked with holding back the demon king’s forces. Aware that he is out of his league, Link struggles with coming to terms with the gravity of this command. Fortunately, Hylia is watching out for him. Main Tags: Link / Hylia, Hylia & The First Hero, Hylia & Link vs Demise, Worth, Purpose, Romance, Skyward Sword I Love You But We Ignore SkSw Canon for the Sake of Creative Liberty, I suppose that fact makes this an AU, it’s supposed to be set way before the events of Skyward Sword anyway, Additional Tags to Be Added Warning Tags: Alcohol Use, Conversations about Death, Struggling with Feeling Unworthy, Addtional Tags to be Added

Author’s Note: This fic will be rated M on AO3, but will stay SFW throughout. Before you choose to read, please be mindful that this story will touch upon heavier themes. Angst with a Good Ending: As of now, I cannot promise that this story will have a Happy ending; but I am certain that it will be Good. Read on AO3 @zelinkcommunity Here is my fic for Day 2 of Zelink Week 2023! “Forbidden.” The rest of this fic will not be posted for Zelink Week (I have other fics to share for the remaining days), but I intend to return to it at a later date! I hope you will keep it on your radar! ✨ Reblogs are appreciated!

~ He was going to die. He knew better than to believe in mercy from a demon king. That’s why Link didn’t bat an eye at the inflated price of Tabantha’s homemade whiskey, but simply tossed the bag of rupees over the counter at her and started drinking straight from the bottle. If anyone had been seated on the empty stool to his right, they might have noted the haggard lines carved into the man’s forehead—that is, if those were even visible under the low-hanging hood of his tattered black cloak. If such a person had a keen eye, they might even have recognized the blood red scarf tucked inside the hood, a noose that never left his neck; and they would well have wondered, perhaps aloud, “What is the captain of Hylia’s army doing at this bar at this hour, drinking his life away?” Not that the captain himself would have answered. Link’s eyes were distant, staring into a realm no mortal could wander. He downed the whiskey with the same practice and precision as he might have driven a blade into the heart of a foe. How long he sat there, whiling away what little remained of his life, Link neither knew nor cared. Though Tabantha’s bar was filled with its usual number of patrons, and a steady hubbub rollicked the room, silence was the captain’s only companion. Until someone took the stool to his right, and swung it towards him, long skirt swishing over the worn, oak floor. Removed though he was, the motion caught his eye. Link glanced over the bottle to see a woman beside him, leaning one elbow over the bar. The light from the sconces on the wall seemed to make her hair sparkle; golden, it was, and long like a tapestry, with purple beads braided into a few choice sections. If he was in his right mind, he might have thought her beautiful. But hearts blinded by dread so rarely acknowledge the beauty set before them, prominent though it may be. “No man thirsts so without reason,” his companion said. Her voice was soft, and seemed to float through the air like a feather. “What is it that you seek to forget?” Link tugged at his scarf, freeing just enough to wipe his mouth. A burp came out before his reply, but he was too drunk for his lack of table etiquette to bother him. “All of it,” he said, raising the bottle in a solitary toast. “Take it...take it away.” “That is much to ask for, my friend. Is that truly what you wish?” “Why not?” He laughed, hard and long, but there was no humor in the sound. “No point in holding on. You get it, yeah? You—you unnerstand.” Even the hearty din of the room could not drown out her silence. She was quiet for a time, though he wasn’t sure how long that time was. He shouldn’t have cared—why was this woman even bothering to talk to him, anyway?—and yet, when he tipped the bottle back again, it froze before the rim even touched his lips. She...she was looking straight at him, and for some reason, he startled. Her face...those eyes. Did he know her? Huh. How strangely...familiar. This unplanned staring contest could have gone on forever, had the woman not looked away first. Despite this, Link knew she was not turning away from him, not writing him off as some drunken fool blabbering on. No, she was still listening; he was convinced she was listening. For some reason, words started to dribble out of his mouth, freely as the whiskey on his chin. “We’re gonna die,” Link said bluntly. “We’re all gonna die. They think we can fight the Demon King. Ha!” His voice cracked. “Th’ last line of defense, they call us, an’ they’re right, they’re right. They’re right, y’know. We can’t hold him off for long. Not alone, without divine aid.” He spread his arms wide for dramatic effect, and then let them fall, limply, to his sides. Her long, pointed ears inclined towards him, her countenance somber. “Your wisdom is sound,” she said softly. “Facing him alone is ill-advised.” The bottle was slick in his grasp. He tipped it on accident, spilling a considerable amount of booze on his cloak. Link growled at the treachery, and tried unsuccessfully to wipe it away. “You need not face him alone, Link. I vow, I shall be with you.” This news was surprising enough to divert his attention. He looked her up and down. Round face, white dress, bare feet. Her hands looked too soft to have held any weapons. Her face seemed too peaceful to have seen much battle. If she believed herself a warrior, where was the proof? “You?” he said hoarsely, now too tired to laugh. “I,” she said, with a smile that rivaled the glitter of her beads. “You,” he repeated, frowning. Such confidence, such poise...it all seemed so familiar. Was she an acquaintance? An old friend? Did he know her after all? He couldn’t recall. “Wha’s—” Link hiccuped. “Your name, by the by?” “Hylia,” she replied. “I am Hylia.” Link stared at her through bleary eyes. “Like the—the, the goddess?” “Precisely like the goddess,” said the woman named Hylia, feathery voice embellished with a certain fondness. “You are correct.” Well, he didn’t know anyone named Hylia. Clearly, his gut was mistaken. She must have reminded him of someone he once knew. “Tha’s funny,” Link mused. “You don’...look like a Hy...lia.” With that proclamation, he tipped off the stool. The whiskey slipped from his fingers; but Hylia caught the bottle before it could crash to the floorboards alongside his crumpled form. The liquid sloshed lackadaisically within; the bottle was nearly empty. “And you do not look like a Hero, Captain,” Hylia said, peering down at the floor where he lay, hood and scarf both fallen askew. She set the whiskey upon the counter, and the brown glass dimly reflected the faint glow of her long, golden hair. “But appearance oft belies the deeper truth within.” * * * A ruthless hangover thrashed him into waking. Hmm. Tent poles. He was in his tent, back at the warcamp. Birds twittered outside, gossiping behind his back. He sat up and groaned, shooing a fly away from his face. How...did he get here? He had no memory of the night before. “Well, that’s mighty fine,” Link said aloud, with a snort. There was much he wished he could forget; the escapades of last night were certainly the least of his troubles. Summoned by his voice, the flap of the tent lifted. The army cook poked his head in, immediately wrinkling his nose. “Captain. I see you’re awake.” “Yeah? I see it too,” Link muttered dryly. Stretching, he reached for his nearby daypack, and began rummaging through its pockets. “Do you have anything truly useful to report, Dovos?” “The soldiers grow antsy,” Dovos said. “You are not usually absent for the morning drills. Pipit wanted to wake you earlier, but left to run the drills instead.” His fingers danced between several smooth, cold objects. There was a catch. There was always a catch. “How kindhearted of Pipit to let me sleep in,” Link said, distractedly. “I sent him away from your tent.” The cook cleared his throat. “Captain, I...I never thought you to be a drinking man.” There it was. “I am not,” Link replied, and tossed a gift through the air. A single rupee landed in Dovos’ open palms. When he saw the color, the cook’s tanned face turned darker than ever. “Silver? You play a dangerous game, Captain. The Knights of Hylia must abstain from alcohol. You know this.” “And a man on his deathbed is gifted spirits to drown the pain,” Link snapped. “If Hylia so desires, she may strike me down. Frankly, it would be a mercy.” So saying, he threw another rupee at the man. This time, it was gold. Dovos’ eyes went wide. “I appreciate your concern,” Link said, voice hardening, “but my business is my own. Consider this my token of thanks for carrying me back, and mind that you do not follow me on my private outings again.” “I did not carry you back, sir,” Dovos stammered, fumbling with the rupees. Link scowled. “Un—understood, Captain.” The cook ducked, and the flap closed after him. Blasted headache. Link rubbed his eyes, while his dry, dirty hair fell over his face like a veil. What had become of him the evening before? Had he stumbled back here alone? In the dark? Miles from camp? No...someone had to have been with him. Hiding his intoxicated state from the soldiers. Ensuring no one took advantage of him on the way. Keeping him from getting lost. With a sigh, Link loosened the scarf on his neck, and then threw the soiled fabric to the corner of the tent. As if that would happen. No one ever cared that much. ~ Next Chapter >>> (Coming Soon)

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