#i wish i wasn't worthless to them

[kihyunsflavor]

Cold shoulder

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x f!reader

Summary: You are married to Feyd-Rautha, but on his birthday Margot Fenring follows him in the hallways to lure him into her chambers.

Warnings: smut, heartbreak, angst, pet names, breeding kink, manipulation (not reader)

word count: 4.6k

Author's note: English is not my first language. Feedback is very much appreciated <3

A cold breeze grazes your skin as the door to your shared chambers opens, sending a shiver down your spine. He enters with heavy steps and your breath stops for a moment when you catch a foreign feminine scent in the air. You immediately know.

"I'm back, wife," Feyd Rautha says, slowly approaching where you stand. You don't respond. A painful lump forms in your throat as your emotions are all over the place. Big hands gently grab your waist from behind. The scent of the woman still lingers on his skin. It tightens your chest and turns your stomach. You have never felt so sick before. She had her hands on him and he allowed it.

You don't want to believe your own thoughts, wishing this reality wasn't true. She had taken him from you. Your beloved husband, the person you love more than anyone else, with whom you share everything. He is the center of your world.

You turn to face him. "You're back late..." you say, your voice steady but your lower lip quivering.

For a split second, his expression wavers, confirming your suspicions. Feyd starts to speak, but you cut him off. "Don't bother lying. I can smell her on you."

His eyes widen, a hint of guilt flickering across his face, an emotion you've never seen from him before.

"I didn't want to. The witch invaded my mind," he attempts to explain. But you can't believe him. Not after this. He humiliated you, made you feel worthless.

His hand reaches for your cheek but you push it way. „Don‘t touch me.“

Oh how could he betray you like this? How could he share such an intimate moment with another woman?

„I can't believe you did this," you sway, your voice trembling with dissapointment. Tears well up in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. He's not worth your tears. Not a single one.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. His words pierce your heart, shattering it into pieces.

It kills you.

The room falls into a heavy silence. His eyes plead with you, his hands twitching as if wanting to pull you close. The very thought makes you cringe.

"I never want to see you again," you say as you move past him. He reaches out for you, but you're too quick. Just before disappearing into the dark corridor, you look back at him. "It hurts - so much."

With that, you're gone.

Feyd doesn't follow. He knows he destroyed everything.

You move into a new section of the Harkonnen residence, consisting of a bedroom and a study, far away from your husband. All your belongings and clothes are brought in by your servants to help you settle into your new quarters. You hear whispers among the servants about Feyd's initial anger, refusing to let them move your belongings. Eventually, he seemed to give in and just let them continue, which was unusual for someone like him who rarely yielded so easily. But you pay it no mind, trying to forget about him. He did this to himself.

The first few nights are horrible. You struggle to sleep, feeling alone and haunted by nightmares of him. Each time you see a black veiled woman, luring him into her chambers. When you wake up, your clothes cling to your sweaty skin. You brush your hair back from your face and scan the dimly lit room. It is pretty similar to your old chambers but you've tried to make it feel different with some interior changes.

You hadn't yet discovered who the Bene Gesserit was that had been with your husband, but you were determined to find out.

With your family's influential name, you planned to write to your sister, hoping she could uncover the truth for you.

The days go by slowly, and to your relief you don't see Feyd at all. The pain of looking into his eyes would be too much to bear. Your heart was broken and would take a long time to heal.

You'd never known love before, never had any real crushes growing up. But then, you were sent to marry the na-Baron of Giedi Prime. You hadn't objected, obediently following your father's wishes. Meeting Feyd changed everything. He ignited a passion within you, made you feel enchanted and yearning for him.

Even if he was cold at first, Feyd proved to be a devoted husband. Drawn to your beautiful appearance and your kind but brave soul, it didn't take him long to warm up to you. You could tell he had fallen for you too.

The wedding night marked the peak of your feelings for him, deepening your love. You were nervous he might handle you roughly, especially since it was your first time, so you had asked him not to hurt you. „That‘s what concubines are for. I'd never hurt my wife,“ Feyd had assured you then, having already dismissed his concubines prior to the wedding.

But in the end, his words proved to be a lie. He had kept his promise until now, when he let the Bene Gesserit woman touch him.

It was hard to believe Feyd had done something like this. Loyalty and trust were values he held in high regard. He always looked down on those who lacked loyalty; it was a matter of honor to him.

And now here you are, sitting alone at the table to eat your dinner. You had instructed your servants to bring your meals to your chambers from now on, because there was no chance you'd dine with your husband. Even if he came to fetch you himself, you wouldn't budge an inch. But Feyd hasn't come. Days have passed since you left him, and he still hasn't shown his face, which you're really relieved about.

He knew you well, knew that you needed space, but this time it was different. He couldn't just apologize and gift you something to make amends. This time, there was nothing for you to forgive him for. And if the Bene Gesserit were to get pregnant before you, his actual wife, it would be unbearable.

The thought fills you with anger and jealousy. You wouldn't allow this to happen. You should be the only one to give him an heir.

As you return to your room after a brief stroll through your section, you're surprised to find several packages awaiting you. Despite your reservations, Feyd has still chosen to send gifts. Walking over to inspect them, a servant appears at your side, bowing slightly.

"Na-Baroness, the na-Baron has sent some gifts for you. He hopes you will accept them," the servant explains. Your gaze drifts over the variously sized boxes, and a sigh escapes your lips. "We will send them back. All of them," you declare after a moment. "But let me have a look first." Kneeling down, you carefully open each package, mindful not to damage anything.

Among them are dresses, exquisitely crafted and likely from your home planet. Another holds a perfume you adore, also from your planet. Then there are the traditional Harkonnen jewelry, reserved only for the Baron and his family. You can't help but chuckle at Feyd's selection.

Once you've examined everything, the servants gather the gifts along with your message: Don't ever insult me like this again

Even if this was just the beginning of his attempts to seek forgiveness, Feyd's gesture of sending mere gifts felt somewhat childish.

Days later, you decide to attend the fight held in the Harkonnen arena, knowing full well that Feyd would be present. However, you choose to sit in a secluded area, far removed from his presence.

Your attire consists of a dark red silk dress, a change from your usual colors as the na-Baroness, which typically align with the Harkonnen house's black with silver or red accents. Your jewelry, crafted from rare opal from your home planet, catches the light, accentuating your eyes and lending a radiant glow to your appearance.

Accompanied by two of your favorite servants, you make your way to a seating area. As you settle in, a pair of glasses are provided, allowing you a clearer view of the participants in the fighting circle below.

Slowly, you navigate through the crowd, observing the excitement of the people of Giedi Prime for the fight. Your gaze shifts upward, focusing on the Baron seated high above the arena, his imposing presence making you feel unease. He emanates a terrifying and volatile energy that unsettles you every time.

Continuing on, you reach the spot where the na-Baron and you usually sit. Feyd stands alone in his black suit, his gaze fixed on you. He had waited until you noticed him.

Feeling a twinge in your stomach, you deliberately drop your glasses with controlled movements, concealing the effect his presence has on you. Redirecting your attention to the fighters entering the arena, you're grateful for something to distract you.

Yet, his image replays in your mind. His eyes betray a hint of sadness, dark circles evident beneath his pale complexion. But he had brought this upon himself.

If he hadn't allowed the Bene Gesserit to touch him, you would have been there beside him as always, watching the fight unfold, with his hand possessively resting on your thigh.

Even after a week apart, the pain remains just the same.

The fight was not big spectacle, but it was enough for the crowd. You swiftly retreat to your chambers, after receiving the sign from a servant that the Baron had left. Casting one last glance at Feyd's area, you see his back turned to you. He's likely leaving as well, and you really have no desire to encounter him in the hallways

When you wake up two days later, you notice a basket of fresh fruits sitting on your table. Approaching the gift, you find a small card attached to the handle. Opening it slowly, you read Feyd's handwriting: Please accept these valuable fruits. Feyd.

You stare at the words for a moment, then shift your gaze to the basket. Inside, you see a variety of fruits, many of which are from your own planet and are your favorites —a fact Feyd surely knew. Yet, despite the apparent gesture, you still feel slighted by the simplicity of the gift.

With a dismissive gesture, you instruct the servants to take the basket away. "Share it among the others and send the same message to the na-Baron as before," you command, retreating to your bedroom.

An upcoming event required your presence as husband and wife, na-Baron and na-Baroness. Three days beforehand, you already felt nauseous and contemplated skipping it altogether. However, the Baron's potential anger left you with no choice but to attend.

As the special day approaches, you pace nervously around the room. The prospect of having to play the role of Feyd's wife again fills you with dread. Despite the difficulty, you resign yourself to the task, knowing you must suppress your true emotions and maintain a facade of affection, hiding behind a gentle smile.

In the morning, you receive a package from Feyd, containing a dress intended for the upcoming gathering. The garment, adorned in Harkonnen colors, is tailored to complement his own attire, ensuring a flawless appearance as a couple.

As the servants begin to prepare you for the event, they dress you, adorn you with jewelry, and style your hair elegantly. Avoiding the mirror as much as possible, you can't help but feel a bit of discomfort at the sight of the dress, which reminds you too much of him. The idea that it signifies your connection to him is unsettling, especially since his betrayal with another woman. Prior to that, you had cherished moments when he selected dresses for you or had jewelry crafted from your birthstone.

Once you're ready, you steal a quick glance at your reflection, observing how the dress accentuates your figure. Despite looking beautiful, the nausea persists. You so badly wish to just remain secluded in your chambers, away from him.

Two servants accompany you as you make your way to the grand halls where your husband awaits in front of the towering doors. You catch a glimpse of him, dressed in all black and feel the familiar pain in your chest. It's as if your lungs are pulling themselves together, stealing the air from you.

His gaze is sweeping over you and a faint grin tugs at his lips, but he stops himself quickly. "Good morning, wife," Feyd says, with his deep raspy voice and offers his arm to you. He seems content to see your face up close after two weeks. You halt before him, meeting his towering figure with a glare that could pierce steel. He recognizes the expression, but doesn't show any reaction. You hook your arm into his, taking a deep breath before walking into the grand hall together.

As the event unfolds, nobels from across the galaxy mingle, their voices a symphony of polite conversation. Among them stands the imposing figure of the Baron, his presence commanding attention.

You stand next to Feyd, occasionally engaging in some small talk with others. Despite the pain and betrayal that lingers in between you, you play the roles with practiced ease, upholding the appearance of a happy couple. Yet inside, you feel dull.

In a moment alone, Feyd wraps his arm around your waist. "Let's talk later, wife." He says and gazes into your eyes. You lower your head, staring at his chest and offering no response until he pulls you closer to his body. Slowly, you raise your head and to meet his gaze.

"No, I don't think so," You reply, placing a hand on his chest in an attempt to push him away. But he holds firm, studying your eyes in an attempt to understand your emotions.

"There's nothing to explain, na-Baron," you hiss, putting some distance between the two of you. "I don't want to hear anything. And stop sending me gifts!"

Feyd blinks at your response and takes a step forward. "Just let me finish my sentence. Things have happened that I regret deeply, but I need you to understand why," he begins to explain, but you shake your head. Tears well up in your eyes, and you bite the inside of your cheek to suppress a whimper. "No, no…" Your lips quiver as you respond with a weak voice. "Even just thinking about it hurts me too much." With those final words, you turn on your heel and walk away. Glancing briefly at the Baron to ensure he's occupied, you slip out of the grand hall and return to your chambers.

Your heart races, nearly pounding out of your chest. Feyd's scent made you dizzy, made you longing for him, but you refuse to succumb. You were not one to give in quickly, not even to his beautiful blue eyes. His lips had twitched, after you had raised your head to look at him - his love always displayed so openly for you, unlike his usual expressionless demeanor. And despite everything, you still love him too, but the thought of going back to him, fills you with disgust and pain. He's the one who made you feel this way.

It was not a good night, and the days that followed were just as bleak. The dull ache persisted, and you drift through each day like a ghost. Emptiness pervades every moment, blurring the world around you into a haze. And despite showing not a single emotion to the world, you feel the pain, longing for the warmth of connection that is lost.

After a week had passed since the event, the reply from your older sister finally arrived. You hastily open it, eager to learn whether the Bene Gesserit woman was pregnant. You understood the ways of the Bene Gesserit and didn't object to them, except in this case, where one woman dared to interfere in your marriage. It was all about control.

Since you weren't part of the sisterhood, they needed to ensure a child was born from Feyd that they could raise according to their teachings. However, if they had approached you with a deal for your own child to become a Bene Gesserit, you might not have disagreed.

But this time, you were determined to stand in their way. She wasn't worthy enough to bear your husband's child, especially considering you weren't even pregnant yourself yet.

With trembling hands, you open the scroll and begin to read the message.

Dear sister,

I am deeply troubled by the news you've shared with me. I did not expect this from the na-Baron. But don't worry too much, as I have located the Bene Gesserit. Her name is Margot Fenring, the wife of Count Fenring, the Emperor's advisor. Unfortunately, I couldn't find out why the sisterhood chose her, and I haven't received any updates on a possible pregnancy. Rest assured, I will inform you immediately once I learn more.

With all my love,

Your sister

You stare at the message, sighing heavily. Margot Fenring was a well-known figure in the galaxy, particularly admired for her beauty. Her hair was of a golden blonde with grey-green eyes and attractive figure. However, you weren't concerned about feeling inferior to her; you knew your own beauty had captivated Feyd from the moment he had laid his eyes on you.

The burning question on your mind wasn't why the revered mother had chosen her to seduce Feyd, but rather why she had to intervene at all, and whether she was now carrying his child.

The waiting was unbearable in a situation like this.

A knock sounds on your door, as you put the roll in the drawer of your desk. Curious, you turn around, wondering who could be seeking your attention. Apart from your husband and his two family members, you didn't know anyone else.

With caution, you open the door, only to be met with the sight of Feyd-Rautha. Disappointment flashes across your face, and you sigh, almost closing the door on him again. But Feyd has other plans, his hand holding the door open and making his way into your chambers. Surprised, you walk back a few steps and stare at him. "What are you doing?" you ask, confusion evident in your tone. He doesn't respond, maintaining a cold stare that sends a shiver down your spine. He appears angry or, at the very least, annoyed by your behavior.

As the back of your knees touch your bed, he stops in front of you. "This time, you will listen, wife, or I will tie you to the bed. You can't run away from me every time," Feyd says with a deep, raspy voice. You blink up at him, uncertain of what to do. Part of you wants to escape the uncomfortable situation and to avoid listening to him. But in this moment, he holds full control over you.

A cold finger grazes your jawline softly, lifting your head up. He comes closer, his breath tingling on your skin. "You better listen carefully now. I will explain everything that has happened. Alright?" he tells you, and all you can do is nod your head obediently.

"On this day while I was on my way back to you, I noticed a woman following me. I questioned her about her presence in the area, and she began to manipulate my mind. With a mere blink, I found myself in the witch's room, unable to recall anything except for her whispers in my head," Feyd explains seriously, maintaining eye contact with you.

"She then used the voice on me and forced me to place my hand in a box while holding a sharp object coated with poison to my neck. After passing her test, she continued to use the voice on me throughout the whole time. I couldn't do anything else than listen to her. I tried to break free many times and every time a picture of you flashed in my mind, she redirected my attention back to her," he continues, his eyes darkening as he recounts the experience. You can see the distress he's in as he speaks.

Slowly, your hand raises to cup his cheek, offering comfort. He leans into your touch, visibly relaxing. "Do you know why she came to you?" you inquire, once his nerves are calmed. He nods vaguely. "I am the one who will inherit the title as Baron next, and since you are not a Bene Gesserit, they sent one of them to find out my weakness."

His answer sinks in, and you agree. "That's what I was thinking as well."

Feyd's hands gently cup your face as he leans closer. "I missed you so much, little mouse," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead. You close your eyes, relishing the sensation of his touch, which you've missed dearly.

"What if she is pregnant?" concern creeps into your voice. Feyd meets your gaze, his eyes filled with determination. "Don't worry, my dear. She won't live to give birth to it, if we receive word that she's carrying a baby," he assures you. "You are the only woman who will give me an heir," he adds with a smirk.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "I should have listened earlier. I just couldn't bear it. Nothing made sense anymore," you whisper, your lips brushing against his cheek. He hums in reply, pressing his lips to yours in a long-awaited kiss.

It turns into a heavy makeout session. With tender care, he guides you onto the bed, slowly undressing you as if savoring every moment of intimacy. As he moistens his fingers with his tongue and begins to pump them inside of you, a soft moan escapes your lips, reveling in the sensation of his touch.

Your body arches with pleasure as he prepares you for him, each movement sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you. "Feels so good," you murmur, lost in the sensation. Feyd's grin widens as he leans over you, his touch both tender and tantalizing.

When he decides you're ready, he withdraws his fingers, eliciting a soft whine of longing from you. "It's alright, my little mouse. I will give you what you want," he shushes. As he frees himself from his pants, your hand instinctively reaches for him, eager to feel his hardness in your grasp.

A low groan escapes him at your touch, but he gently removes your hand, his own need evident in his impatient tone. "Not now," He says, his voice thick with lust. "I can't wait any longer to be inside you." With a sense of urgency, he positions himself between your legs, ready to claim you completely.

He gazes down at you with love and care. "You won’t be able to walk tomorrow," he warns with a sly grin, teasing as he lets the tip of his arousal slide between your heated folds before thrusting inside you.

Once fully sheathed within your tight walls, he leans over you, his arms caging your head to support his weight. In this position, he is able to see your face much better. "I will make you forget everything that pained you these past weeks. You are mine," he growls possessively with his lips attached to the sensitive skin of your neck as his hips begin to move in a rhythmic thrust.

At first, his movements are slow and deliberate, punctuated by tender kisses, until you relax completely under his touch and he increases the pace. Your legs are lifted up over his shoulders, allowing him to penetrate even deeper, luring whimpers of pleasure from you as your nails dig into the porcelain skin of his back.

"So tight. Taking me so well, little mouse," he praises softly near your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Your walls contract around him, gripping him tighter, causing him to groan in pleasure. "Stop it, I'm not going to last if you keep tightening up like this," he warns you, his head falling back in pleasure.

But the sensation feels too good to stop, and you beg him to just come inside you with your voice hazy with desire. Feyd's eyes sparkle at your pleads. "Touch yourself," He orders, encouraging you.

It doens't take long for you to reach your climax, gripping his shoulders for support and screaming his name. He watches your face intently, praising you. "Yes that's it, good girl. Come on my cock."

Without letting you fully come down from your high, he starts to thrust deeper. “Going to fill you up now, you want that?” You whine at his words, nodding impatiently. “You'll look beautiful with my baby inside of you, all big and swollen.” His words drive you insane and with each thrust, he pushes you both closer.

With a final thrust, he releases himself inside you, bringing you to another climax as the room fills with both of your cries of pleasure.

"Afterwards, he takes good care of you, cleaning your sensitive skin with a wet cloth and ensuring you're comfortable in bed. His arms find their way around your body, pulling you closer.

"I haven't slept well since you left," he admits, nuzzling his face into your neck. You chuckle at the sensation because it tickles.

"I also slept horribly," you respond, your hand caressing the back of his neck. But tonight, you sleep better than you have in weeks, knowing your husband is right there beside you, and you never want to let go again.

Fortunately, it's only a week later when another message from your sister reaches you. As you read through it with full concentration, a lump forms in your throat due to the wave of emotions that washes over you.

"She's not pregnant," you inform Feyd, who stands before you. His eyes visibly brighten with relief and he moves closer to embrace you tightly. No words are needed, you can feel each other's emotions clearly.

"Don't worry, my dear. I'll deal with the punishment for the Bene Gesserit," Feyd assures you after a while of holding each other. His anger still simmers, just as intense as the night Margot Fenring used the voice on him. He won't let it slide easily.

You find comfort in knowing that Feyd will handle the situation, likely with the help of his uncle, the Baron. But for now, you push aside all thoughts of pain, focusing on the relief of the moment.

On the same day, after rearranging the last few items in your shared chamber, which you hastily moved back into, a gleaming blade catches your eye. Your husband possesses a collection of blades in various sizes and styles, but you recognize this one as his favorite - the one he always carries with him. You approach the desk and study the blade intently.

Suddenly, strong arms wrap around your body, and you gasp quietly in surprise. "This one is for you," Feyd whispers behind you. Your eyes remain fixed on the knife, his words sinking in.

This blade holds significant importance to him, having accompanied your husband since his childhood when he first learned to fight. It's a profound gesture of trust and affection that he would gift it to you now. Despite the Harkonnen's reputation for brutality and coldness, they occasionally reveal their emotions to those they love. This blade serves as a metaphor, symbolizing Feyd's gift of his heart to you forever.

#feyd rautha #feyd smut #dune part two #feyd x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #dune x reader #dune imagine #feyd rautha imagine #feyd rautha fic #austin butler x reader #dune fanfic #feyd x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen imagine #feyd rautha smut #feyd-rautha x reader #kihyunsflavor

[chilumi-shipper]

From Me, For You

Childe x GN!Reader / Alhaitham x GN!Reader

Summary: You love creating something special for them, it's your love language to say the least, it's the way you show love for them. But at some point, it seems like they stopped caring for the things you make, and in a moment where the stress was getting to them, they even said something so hurtful about your favorite thing to do for them.

Tags: Angst to Fluff, Hurt with Comfort, Crying, Childe coming home with blood covering him, Hurtful Comments

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Childe

Your relationship with him is... surprising, to say the least.

You're just a baker in Liyue that happened to sell one of the best Shezhnayan pastries that a certain homesick Harbinger was really craving. One thing led to another, and now you're in love and in a relationship with a Fatui Harbinger.

It's not like you didn't try your damn hardest not to fall for his charms, but seeing him eat the pastries you make and jokingly sob about his home, with the pastry's filling staining the corners of his lip, it just touched your heart.

But you forgot for a bit... he's a Harbinger...

He's not always gonna be the Ajax that taste test your baked goods every other day and would give the biggest smile with the usual comment of "Everything is perfect! You're perfect!"

And that's increasingly becoming more prominent.

You looked at the Shezhnayan baking book intently, making sure you follow the way of making a local pastry filling to a T. This is very important to you, your boyfriend's birthday is just around the corner, and you really really wanted to give him a taste of home since he wouldn't be able to make it back to his home nation.

You have to make sure to not screw up, so you're practicing early on.

The sound of your front door opening perked your ears up, making you put down the bowl of filling you were working on and skip on to your living room.

"Jax!" You affectionately called for him before you could even see him clearly.

The sight that greeted you, however, promptly stopped you from jumping at him for a hug.

Blood...

Whether his or someone else's, it mortified you. You were speechless.

"What...?" Childe scoffed at the sight of your shocked expression. "This is what being a Harbinger is." He looked down at his soiled clothes, feeling rather uncomfortable. "You should get used to this, babe."

The usual warmth of his presence in your house changed into an atmosphere that made you sick to the stomach.

"Please..." You started, your heart beating rapidly and your voice laced with disbelief. "Wash up... I..." After such a sight, could you really ask him to taste test one of your many endeavors in baking again?

This man... this Harbinger... he wasn't the Ajax you wished to see. But that's still him, just not the version he made you become privy to.

However, after so many days and nights that he showed up like... that, you got used to it, got used to the slow uprising of a worse version of him, the version of him that didn't give a fuck about what brought you together in the first place, the version of him that no longer accepted welcoming hugs and kisses, the version of him that made you feel so... worthless.

"Are you baking again? I know it's your job and all, but could you like... just not bring it home?" The ginger said that one time, rather hypocritically considering that he brought that terrible attitude from his job to your home.

"I'm working on something important..." You excused his rather hurtful words, you were rather sensitive when someone mentions something negative to you about the hobby that made you so happy. "Can you try it and tell me what you think?"

"Not in the mood." You knew that he was rather tired from taking care of something for his job, but that dismissive tone made your heart ache... and just when you think you've finally perfected his childhood favorite treat.

A moment of silence fills the room before a quiet "Please..." escapes you in a very hesitant tone. You worked so hard... finding an actual Snezhnayan baking book with local recipes, practicing over and over to make it perfect, even making sure to add your own little touch that compliments the taste.

Maybe you shouldn't have said that, otherwise, he wouldn't have stood up from the couch to face your smaller figure holding onto the tray of baked goods, looking up at his looming figure.

"You know, Y/N..." Your breathing already became heavy at the cold call of your name. "There are so many more useful things you could do than bake all day. This..." A gasp escaped your mouth when he grabbed the tray from your hands and threw it down on the kitchen island.

"This is just worthless."

Tears welled up in your eyes at his words, and you could no longer hold in the sob in your throat, as you started crying pathetically right in front of him. You whimpered as you tried to control your falling tears and your harsh breathing.

You couldn't say anything back, your cheeks and nose only reddening at the rapid emotion that's escaping you. No longer being able to handle being right in front of him, you ran up to your room, closing the door and face planting on the bed, muffling your cries with the sheets.

Back downstairs, Childe was still processing everything.

"There's nothing to process, you are a dick." His inner self told him, and he completely agrees as he sighs, dragging his fingers along his ginger hair in frustration in himself.

Why did he do that? Why did he say those hurtful things? Why did he treat you like you were one of his targets that he was assigned to manipulate?

Work got to him, it has been for weeks, but it was no excuse. He brought a monster he couldn't control into your house, and now... you were hurt.

His blue eyes darted to the pastries he haphazardly threw on the counter, most were still on the tray, in a mess and no longer in a firm order in which you like to arranger your treats.

A realization hit him... they look a lot like...

Childe then remembered the look on your face when you whispered a plea. Your eyes were hopeful when he stood up, and then your body shook when you realized he wasn't intending on tasting anything.

A memory flashed in his mind, even intensifying when he picked up a treat and bit into it, a sweet, warm filling coating the inside of his mouth. It was delicious... and just like in your Y/N way, everything you make made him feel better.

His senses getting better meant the pit in his stomach got worse, the regret of going off on you consuming him more and more.

He then hurried up to your room, gently opening your door to not startle you. His heart broke at the sight of you, your face buried into your pillows, your shoulders shaking and indicating that you're crying still. He knows that after what he did, he has no right to even feel hurt at the sight of you... but he loves you! And he knows he hasn't been showing it.

Without a word, without turning around to face him, you spoke. "P-please... L-le-leave me a-alone." Your words were muffled, and you were stuttering due to the sobs you still couldn't control.

"Baby, I... I'm so sorry..." Childe knew that those words could never be enough to make you feel better, but he at least needed a chance to say his piece, even though he may not deserve it. "Work has been... it's been making me like this... but, I know I can't use that as an excuse..."

"I've been a prick..." You didn't respond to him, but your sobs did die down to little sniffles. "And I don't deserve someone like you..."

"You just made the perfect replica of one of my favorite treats, and you probably did so much for this. Archons, babe, you're amazing. And so so caring." Ajax felt tears starting to form, his vision getting cloudy as his eyes water. If you forced him to leave, he would, but he wanted to pour everything in his heart for you out, and finally finally let out the emotion he had to keep in due to his job.

"I love you so much, Y/N... for being such an amazing person that lit up my life." He walked closer to you, prompting to sit on the bed beside you. Still, you give no response. "And the fact that you love me... that... you loved me...."

"I'm so honored that you even let me be your taste tester." The ginger chuckled a bit, reveling in the sweet memory.

"And I can't fucking believe that I just hurt you like that. I'm so s-sorry, Y/N." Finally, the tears in his eyes fell, and his voice broke when he spoke.

He wasn't use to fear, but at that moment, he truly felt the fear of you rejecting him.

After a few seconds, you turned to him, and he felt even more guilty to see your tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes.

"C-Couch..." You whispered while pointing at him, making the ginger tilt his head in confusion. "S-Sleep on the couch." You stuttered out, and Childe immediately nodded, accepting your statement.

"A-And no more hugs and kisses, no p-pastries either." You firmly stated (as firm as your sniffly state could say at least). "For a month."

"Okay.... Yes, understood!" Childe wiped the tears on his face, answering you with determination. If that's what it took for you to forgive him, he's gonna do it with ease.

"And no coming home with b-blood on you. Please..." He got off the bed to get on his knees in front of you.

"I promise..." With many of his promises, he had an instinct to kiss your forehead as a reassurance, but you avoided his hand before he could hold your head to go in to press a kiss.

"Wait a month." You let out a strained giggle, and he smiled at how sweet it was despite his lips tingling in the anticipation of a kiss.

The whole no hugs and kisses is gonna be hard, and the no pastries means that he's not gonna get a taste of your love for an entire month!

But he will persevere, just for you.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Alhaitham

You have a knack for crafting little momentos and preserving memories by creatively incorporating moments into the trinkets that you make.

It's your favorite hobby! And you're rather proud that you can make such cute little things that don't look tacky.

Kaveh was actually pleased the very first time Alhaitham came home with a decor you made, an embroidery of an irritated dendro slime reading a thick book that he can hang on a wall. You presented it to him with all smiles, saying that that was how you saw him the first time you saw him in the House of Deana.

"Finally! You actually got something to hang up that doesn't embody your atrocious taste!" Kaveh was enthusiastic, yet still managed to diss the gray haired scholar while giving out a compliment.

The first thing you ever made for him was that embroidery. And Archon's did your heart flutter and leaped with joy when he actually accepted it. What you were expecting was a comment from him like "I think it's silly to represent me with a slime. I would say that my IQ level is much higher than those elemental lifeforms."

You were both just acquaintances when you gave him that gift, but that sparked something between you. You were smart, creative, and didn't speak to him all stiff and nervous like many of your peers. You make the atmosphere easy to be in, and Alhaitham happens to like it when things are easy for him.

You liked his company just as much, finding his calmness and straightforwardness so tranquil and refreshing, not to mention his funny smarty pants attitude. You liked him so much that you would sit by him in the Akademiya or in the library and do your handy work.

it basically progressed from that. "I enjoy being with you, and you kissed me that one time and I liked it. And I can see that you enjoy being with me too. So we're together now." He stated, and you were in shock, he's always been straightforward, but that was truly unexpected.

"Y-You haven't even... taken me out on a date yet!" That was the first thing that you thought to say, still processing everything.

Alhaitham raised an eyebrow, "You don't call this and our every other meeting a date? We are together and we're doing what we want to do." Damn it, he made a good point.

"B-But..." You stuttered, making him sigh.

"Do you not want to be with me?"

"No! I-I mean... yes... Yes! I do, but you just dropped it all out of nowhere." You argued, seriously having a love-hate relationship with his unapologetic honesty.

He ignored your comment, only choosing to hear that you want to be with him. "Good, you're my partner now."

And then... with you being you, every milestone, every special event in your relationship, you'd make something for him.

First anniversary? A custom picture frame with 12 pictures of both of you in it to remind him of the 12 months you've been together.

His birthday? A crochet little plant in a pot, the plant seemingly just sprouting.

Just a random day? Well, you got something for him anyway. :D

You love him to bits and you wanted to show them in your very own love language, crafting little gifts!

Each one, Alhaitham accepted in an uncharacteristically bashful yet still pleased manner, muttering a "Thank you..." or a "You never fail to impress me." and then you are presented with a great honor of a smile from the scribe.

Making him feel happy and warm inside (though he would never admit that he was, but he really was) by making things for him made you so happy!

You managed to fill his desk with your creations, not just decor, but some useful trinkets too! Like a functional hourglass, a lamp that he can write on, and an organizer for books because you swear that he literally just lets the books litter his office since he reads lots of them on and off, and you needed to do something about it.

The main thing is... he loves your love for creativity.

At least... that's what you thought...

But ever since he became the Acting Grand Sage...

Alhaitham has always been an honest person, never one to beat around the bush or spare anyone's feeling by keeping his opinions to himself.

And he sure has gotten colder, much more poky, probing at the weaknesses and insecurities of many scholars in an attempt to only let researches and works he finds worthy to continue. The rest shall no longer be conducted.

Apparently, that included your work.

"I don't see a use for such an object. I prefer things in my desk to be practical."

"The way you designed it is rather... silly. Far too childish to be of sensible use."

"Decors are not necessary, there's better use of your time."

You took all of his critiques, from then and now, to heart, making sure to reflect on his words to improve. But when he was still the Scribe, he at least commented on how to improve.

Now, it's like... he wants you to stop.

You're currently in the office of the Acting Grand Sage, you brought your crocheting kit with you to pass the time, hoping to just have a quiet afternoon with him while you both do your work, much like what you did in the past.

"Alhaitham, what'cha up to?" You asked innocently, still working on your crochet as you were seated on the floor. He was working on something on his desk, his brows pulled together as he frowned at the report in front of him.

That was what you usually do, ask some questions about each other's business, encourage each other if it's really stressing you out, or jab at how you could never do his work, and he would not have even a quarter of your patience to finish a craft.

This time, however, he does not grace you with a response, preserving the quietness of the room. You got the message, so you opted to keep quiet and keep on crocheting a blanket with a print that you were planning to give him, maybe a fluffy blanket will keep out his cold mood.

A few minutes later though, you don't know exactly what made him snap, you don't know why he suddenly called your name, and you don't know why he looked at you with such a frustrated look.

"Y/N, just drop it." Alhaitham suddenly blurted out to you. Making you jump and pause what you're doing.

"W-What?" You stuttered, confused and worried at the same time.

"I saw that you've been struggling on that thing for hours, can't you just move on to something more useful?" The gray haired man sighed. "You're so creative, and you're wasting your time with that." He said it like so condescendingly, that such a calm sounding comment penetrated your heart more than an actual insult could.

"I mean, look at all this." He motions to his desk. "A bunch of junk that serves no purpose. I really don't see why you need to do all this." Tears started collecting in your eyes, and you heard his words as if you're the junk that serves no purpose.

"B-But... those are all presents for... y-you." Your voice was shaking, and you could only manage to whisper. "I wanted to make them for you."

"Then perhaps it is me that don't want to receive them anymore."

And that's what got to you. What you do to show your love, what you try to do for him, he doesn't even like. So does he even love you at all?

Tears streamed down your face, and what initially started as sniffles turned into sobs that echoed around the large room. You stood up, stuffing your things into your bag before aggressively wiping your tears away, though more seem to fall anyway.

Without another word, you ran to the elevator before rushing out of the Akademiya, running back home with a broken heart. It was a miracle you didn't trip with how cloudy your vision got from the tears.

...

"What are you doing here?" Alhaitham raised a brow, seeing Kaveh in his office, sweeping everything on his desk into a large bag.

The blond architect ignored him, clearing out the desk before heading for the wall with a few of your works filled the space.

"Did Y/N make this?" Kaveh questioned, finally looking at his roommate. Alhaitham merely nodded, though even more confused when the architect took the pieces and shoved them in the bag too.

"What are you doing?"

Kaveh scoffed, shaking his head at the Acting Grand Sage's pathetic ignorance. "You don't deserve these things!" He then proceeded to glare at him. "Saying such mean things at Y/N, they did nothing wrong and you started acting like some obnoxious fucker that just wanna bring people down."

"I mean, I know you like doing that. But to Y/N?" Kaveh questioned in disbelief. "Yeah, you don't deserve any of this."

And so Alhaitham was reminded of his words from yesterday, as well as you're crying face as you ran out of his office. He (rather stupidly) thought that you'd get over the comments, after all, you didn't mind his critiques from before.

"I wanted to make them for you." He remembers what you said, all the things Kaveh had in the large bag were for him. You wanted to make those for him.

You made them because... you love him...

And he fucked up.

Kaveh was done with his sweep, leaving him in a eerily empty room, free of everything that made it a bearable to work in. He hated the office of the Grand Sage, but your presence, the presence of your creations... made it that much better.

He had to fix this.

...

You heard knocking at your door, but after looking at the peephole and seeing a gray haired scholar for the fifth time that day, you didn't bother opening the door.

"Darling?" You ignored the endearment muffled by the wall separating the both of you.

On the other side, Alhaitham sighed before resting his head on your door. He's been trying to talk to you properly for five hours, but he didn't just want to say what he wanted to at your door, risking you not hearing what he has to say for himself.

"Listen, Y/N, I'll just be here... working." He didn't leave just yet. "You can join me, if you want. Just like before."

He sat back down on the bench that was right in front of your house. He brought the work he has to get done with him, and trying to swallow down the guilt yet again, he proceeded to work into the well hours of the night before leaving with yet another unsuccessful day of trying to talk to you.

For many days, it was like that, he stayed outside your home. Whenever you needed to go out, you ignored him, even if he followed you, even if he tried to talk to you, you wouldn't give him the time of day.

"I think this type of yarn would be good for structure." Alhaitham held a roll of yarn in his hand, looking you and anticipating a response.

Though you said nothing, you confirmed that you at least listen when you plucked up another roll of the same yarn and paid for it. He smiled a little, though you didn't wish to humor him further.

Everyday, Alhaitham would be working in front of your house, maybe knocking once in a while to check in on you. It was rather heartbreaking to see, from your window, you saw him sit there, looking like he isn't even getting work done, just staring at the reports and trying to make something of it.

And finally, it was night yet again, a particularly cold one this time around. The cold breeze as the sun sets in for the night sent goosebumps down the Acting Grand Sage's spine, but it was far too early to leave, so he didn't budge.

You don't get it, you don't want to feel sorry for him, he couldn't just say something so harsh yet act so stubborn to force you to forgive him!

But tonight... he does look rather cold, and from what you learned the days before, nothing will make him move from that bench until you let him talk to you properly.

There was a soft warmth that ingulfed Alhaitham as he was busy with his work, from his peripherals he could see the makings of a blanket, effectively shielding him from the cold.

Looking back, he saw you dressed in your pajamas, not bothering to make eye contact with him. "You looked cold." were the only words that you said to him.

Unbeknownst to him, while he was working in front of your house, you joined in on his day, finishing the blanket you were planning to give him before his outburst.

It felt like such a waste to scrap it, especially since you were half done with it already...

He stood up from the bench, looking uncharacteristically enthused at you. "Thanks..." He was looking fondly at you, but you still refused to meet his gaze.

You also noticed from watching him a bit that he wasn't really eating much throughout the day, so before you could stop yourself...

"Would you like to come in for dinner?"

...

You were quiet for most of the meal, but his ears perked at the occasional sniffles you let out, implying that you were trying not to cry. Alhaitham felt shitty for thinking he even had the right to feel bad when he was the one that caused all this.

After dinner, it was still silent, but Alhaitham proceeded to evaluate the blanket you gave him in your living room. It was crochet with, yet again, an irritated dendro slime on top of a building that resembles the Akademiya, you must have observed him and his sour mood from being the Acting Grand Sage.

"Do I get to keep this?" He asked, looking at you expectantly.

You bit your lip, anxiously twiddling your thumbs. "Umm... It's... not of much use." You replied, earning a sigh from him.

With your comment, Alhaitham made his way right in front of you, making it perfectly clear for him see that tears have started to fall from your eyes. "I-I think... it would be best if you g-go now."

You were looking down, still trying to cover your face despite knowing that he knew you were crying.

"Would it be okay if I talk to you properly first?" Something in you wanted him to leave because you thought that he deserved it, but you still wanted answers. Why did he say all those mean things to you? Why did he hate what you make so much? Why was he persistently outside your house all the time to persuade you to finally talk to him?

You didn't answer, but didn't motion at all for him to leave, so he took his chance before it was too late. "There's nothing I love more in the world than you. And to lash out on you for doing something you love was absolutely idiotic of me."

He took your hands in his, "I hated being the Grand Sage, I hated having to deal with the shit I don't care about. That hate just continued to build up, and I... you were the one that unfairly received it all."

"You didn't deserve any of that. And I know I can't use being stressed as an excuse for hurting you, that was my own stupid act. But I am truly sorry."

"I-I would have stopped making things for you if you hated them so much." You finally looked up at him with wet doe eyes, effectively clenching his heart even more.

"No, no, darling... I love what you make, every single one. Because I know that making them makes you happy, and I love seeing you happy." He lets go of one of your hands to wipe your tears away. "I'm so sorry about everything I said, darling. The moment Kaveh took everything from my office, I realized how empty it was... without you..."

"He did that?" You asked in disbelief, your question laced with a strained chuckle. He nodded, a pout forming on his face.

"Yeah, and I realized how terrible it was..."

You laughed, though your cheeks were still stained by dried tears. "Do you like the blanket I made you?" You asked him, and he gave you a rare genuine smile.

"I love it, you're a star for making it for me." He closed the gap between the both of you, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, his arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace.

"I love everything you gift me. I love you..." He whispered as he hugged you warmly.

"Even the plushie on your desk that doesn't do anything and always falls over?"

"Even that..." Your heart fluttered, your body cuddling with his to receive more of his warmth.

"Okay..." You responded, smiling against him. "You can tell Kaveh to stop keeping my gifts hostage..."

...

"There's somethings missing..." Alhaitham gave Kaveh a pointed look, making his blond roommate scoff.

"Well, everything I took I brought back here! If you lost a few things then that's you're fault!" Kaveh has always been a big fan of your crafts, and Alhaitham has a gut feeling that he liked a few things that he took.

The gray haired scholar merely raised a brow, making Kaveh sigh dramatically.

"Fine! But I'm keeping the plushie!" He left before Alhaitham could argue with him, leaving him only to sigh.

Your giggle occupied the room for a bit. "I'll tell him I can make one for him."

"Alright, but I'll appreciate if his isn't as cute as mine. Thanks." He said, and though you know he's joking, he still had that stoic face that makes you laugh when he says those unserious things.

"I'll keep that in mind."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

This is like almost 20k words, so I really hope that you guys liked it :D

It's been a while, (as always with my writing, but it's summer, so apart from work, I've been pretty free to write, which makes me really happy) enjoy!

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact #genshin impact angst #genshin angst #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact childe #childe angst #childe fluff #childe x reader #genshin impact alhaitham #alhaitham angst #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham x reader

[hxmocrastic]

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐋𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧 | HCS

Pairing ; {📺+📖} Luke Castellan x GN!Reader

Warnings ; Yandere, Stalking, Gaslighting, Fear of Abandonment, Imminent Kidnapping, Manipulation, Inferiority Complex, Emotional Abuse. ALL CHARACTERS AGED UP 18+

A/N ; Sorry I didn't respond directly to you anon, I accidentally posted this before it was finished and couldn't edit it 💀 But Enjoy!!

Luke is a Gaslighting, Guilt tripping, Boyfailure personified.

At first he takes up his signature friendly act and introduces himself to you first. He even offers to show you around camp !

To him, you're just so adorable. He loves how docile & compliant you are, how your sweet little chin nod's at his every word. You're just so fucking addicting, As soon as he saw you he knew he had to have you.

In order to get you alone & helpless, He'll start spreading false rumors of your parentage, Just to swoop in and shoo those pesky campers away. See? He's such a good boyfriend ! Why won't you look at him?

He'll even get you into some weaving classes, After all a sword is way too dangerous for someone like you. Don't worry about it! He knows what's best for you !

Luke will gladly take his time in wooing you. Slowly implanting little seeds in that cute little head of yours, Whispering things underneath his breath, Increasing physical contact, Even sending you gifts.

The last encounter he had with his father was a scar that will never heal, and a reminder that the gods see him and his siblings as nothing but cattle awaiting the slaughter.

Underestimated, Undermined, Luke always feels he has to go the extra mile prove himself. He thinks that in the eyes of his father he's worthless but in yours he has a purpose, He's a hero.

He'll do anything to keep up that facade, As he only wishes for you to see him in a glorified light. Isn't that what demigods fight for?? Glory,? It only makes sense that you'd love him too !

But truth is, Although he may sustain his benevolent friendly facade, He sees other's as emerging rivals. Whether it be in 'love' or Competition, He views them as competition.

All his life he'd felt powerless & helpless to the evils that robbed him of his childhood. Like his life wasn't his own, How he was always at the mercy of others whether it be the fates, monsters, or the gods themselves. He's never felt real control.

But at camp he feels like he has some control, some authority of his own. And not just of his own life but of other's too. He's finally at the other end of the stick.

Luke loves the power he has over the camp, how the girls & boys of Aphrodite cabin silently fawn at the slightest glance of his figure.

How his stare alone can send clarisse and her cabin trudging to the steps of their cabin like wet dogs. The power excites him.

But your arrival was different. He would've thought it'd be enough to constantly receive the admiration from camp but he desires more from you.

Luke doesn't just want you to favor him, He wants you to obey him. To hang on his every word. He wants you to worship him, To give him the adoration he would never receive from his bastard father.

This is where it gets dangerous. Once the Luke you knew to be a sweet and protective head counselor, He starts becoming a lot more domineering and unreasonably aggressive. And whenever you asks about, He slips back into his loving demeanor and reassures you softly that everything's alright, You're just seeing things that's all!

But you could've sworn you saw him scowling at your friends. Maybe you were just going crazy, it'd be the only reasonable explanation right? Who'd believe you if you said you heard Luke castellan speaking with another voice, right?

For your own safety, You stay quiet. You abide him and start slipping on a facade of your own. Just play along and you will be fine...

He's your hero, your knight in golden armor, Depend on him and solely on him why would you need anybody else?? Love him and only him, and just maybe your cabin mates will be safe. (Not)

#🏷️ #tw yandere #yandere pjo #yandere headcanon #yandere percy jackson #male yandere #yandere #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #percy jackson headcanon #percy jackson hc #tw dark content #x gn reader #gn reader #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson

[heartsoji]

truth or dare?

summary: kuroo has a very special dare for you...

kenma x reader

"y/n! truth or dare?" kuroo yelled, pointing his finger at you.

you didn't hesitate for a moment. "dare."

the circled ooooo-ed as kuroo thought really hard about what he wanted your dare to be.

after around a minute had passed, he looked up at you with a devious smirk that sent shivers down your spine.

"i dare you..." he started, "to kiss your crush on the cheek."

the nekoma volleyball team gasped and began to murmur among themselves.

"y/n's crush?"

"lucky bastard!"

"i bet it's me."

"no, it's not."

whilst the team was trying to figure out who the mystery guy could possibly be, you were just sitting there, sending a nasty death glare to kuroo while he just grinned at you like a cheshire cat.

"what if my crush isn't here?" you challenged.

"he is."

louder oooo's filled the room as they tried to guess who it could be, not bothering trying to be quiet about it now.

"it's probably kai, the lucky bastard!"

"no, no, it's definitely me!"

"lev, shut up."

"who the hell is it?! i'll fight him!"

"yamamoto."

"yep, yaku-san."

"hey kenma," yamamoto called out to the fake blonde sitting outside the circle on his game boy, "who do you think it is?"

he blinked. "think what is?"

"you little- haven't you been listening? y/n's crush. he's in the room." he tsked, putting extra enunciation on the words "y/n's crush."

your cheeks turned mad red and you instantly tried to defend yourself. "he might not be!"

"he is."

"kuroo, you little-!" *SMACK*

"ow! that huuuurt y/n-chan!"

kenma turned his attention back to his game as you held your breath. "dunno. it doesn't really affect me."

your heart sank.

yamamoto sighed. "how kenma of you. this is a big deal!"

but it would affect him. because if you went on with the dare, his cheek would be the one meeting your lips. but if he didn't care, that definitely meant that he didn't reciprocate. then again, kenma remained indifferent about a majority of topics, even ones he was interested in, so just maybe? but it was unlikely, and you really didn't want to ruin your friendship with him when it only started a year ago.

"moving on," kuroo interrupted, wanting to get on with it, "our precious manager-chan here has to complete the dare."

"i'd kick you in the balls if i wasn't so nice." you snarled.

he just grinned in response.

you sighed, knowing that there really wasn't away out of this.

"ok, everyone has to close their eyes."

"what?"

"why?"

"man.."

"everyone has to close their eyes for my pride and privacy. close your eyes, guys. if you open them, you'll be betraying my trust and i would hate you."

everyone gasped. no one wanted that. so, they all complied with your wishes, including kenma, even though he wasn't really playing.

when all the eyes were closed, you tiptoed over to kuroo to whisper a "i really hate you for this. i trusted you with that info, man. now, thanks to you, my friendship with him might be ruined forever. i'm seriously mad at you, kuroo."

you meant it. you were actually really scared for what might happen with kenma. you confided in kuroo so that he could find out what kenma thought of you for you with the condition that he not tell a soul, but he refused to tell you anything when you asked about what kenma said about you, so it ended up being a worthless exchange.

you then tiptoed around the circle, stomping your feet, stopping, and making kissy noises occasionally to try to ensure that they didn't know who it was.

finally, you made a loud smooch in the air right above kenma, and then, heart pounding out of your chest, you leaned down and gave him a gentle peck to the cheek.

you took a second to analyze his reaction, and you noticed an immediate change in the color of his ears. he quickly pulled his hood over them to cover it up, and slowly, his pretty eyes fluttered open. he gave you a small, shy smile before averting his gaze, a flustered look on his face.

that reaction was...good, right?

you walked around the circle once more for good measure, standing extra long in certain spots to ensure that the team wouldn't know.

finally, you returned to your spot in the circle.

"open your eyes."

the team's eyes shot open and they quickly started trying to figure out who the lucky boy was.

"kai, be honest. was it you?"

"no, it wasn't."

"don't lie!"

"i can't believe it wasn't me..."

"lev, the only certainty we had about who it was was that it wasn't you."

while everyone was trying to figure it out, you looked up at kenma, who was already staring at you. you quickly averted your gaze before returning back to him.

he gave you a smile that released a whole butterfly farm in your stomach and gently formed a phone signal with his hand before mouthing, "call me."

i guess you wouldn't be too mad at kuroo.

#kenma x reader #haikyuu kenma x reader #hq kenma #kenma kozume x reader #kenma scenario #kenma #kenma drabble #kenma drabbles #kenma fluff #kenma imagine #kenma imagines #kuroo #kuroo tetsuro #nekoma

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Absurd Thoughts

Tech x Reader

Summary- During a regrettable moment of insecurity, you think Tech considers going off with Phee. Assurance pursues, Tech only wants you.

A/N- Tech's waist is so snatched in this Gif 😩. Made Phee a villain SORRY! Near the end there is lots of touching, but everything is PG and nothing ensues from it!

Word Count- 1,713

"Head to these coordinates, brown eyes." You couldn't resist rolling your eyes. With crossed arms you even included a scoff, watching Phee rest a hand seductively on Tech's shoulder. It sat dangerously close to his chest.

It seemed that the only one who noticed was Hunter, his exceptional skills in observation shined. He gave you an 'it's okay' expression, but it did nothing to calm you.

Who did Phee think she was? Okay- that was a little harsh, but she had no right to be hitting on Tech. Constantly, mind you.

She leaned over him, pressing her bust to his shoulder to put the coordinates in. You swear you felt your face twitch. That was your move, which you had used on Tech multiple times. There was no doubt that she touched him on purpose.

Rage bubbled up in you, so much that you turned away and retreated to the back section of the ship.

What you were too mad to see was Tech leaning away from Phee to glance back at you, concerned.

It was not a secret that you and Tech were involved. Phee didn't seem to care, though you had never confronted her before. It seemed easier to wait until the mission was over. The thought of her leaving after the mission was something to look forward to.

Except, this time it wasn't just a mission. This might be a more permanent situation. A safe-haven from Cid was something you wished for, but at the expense of your happiness?

You went to hide in the refresher for a minute. You needed a space to just sit down and breathe. No eyes on you, certainly not Phee's.

Leaning against the sink, you close your eyes and inhale. The ship gave a familiar jolt- you were exiting hyperspace. With a groan, you straighten yourself out.

Okay, this can still be a good day. At least, that's what you tried to tell yourself. You fixed yourself up and returned to the group. They were already leaving the ship, you had to sprint to catch up.

Your eyes searched for Tech's, he was already busy with a datapad. Your hands moved on their own to fidget with each other- an action you subconsciously did. You didn't even notice it, but Tech did. He drove his gaze from the pad to look at you.

He stops walking for a second, letting you catch up. You smile up at him, his attention was enough to lift your spirits. His hand brushed against your back, guiding you to the rest of the force.

You started to thank him, but was interrupted by Phee.

"Welcome to Pabu! My home away from home!" She spoke louder than needed, making sure everyone was listening to her.

"That is the Archium." She pointed to a large building but looked at Tech, staring until he glanced up from his datapad. Everyone noticed the tension when you fought her look instead. She continued, "That is where we will store the artifacts." She crossed her arms, smug.

Everyone looked at Tech when he started talking. "Well, my sources tell me that this piece is in fact, worthless." He stated. You didn't doubt him for a second.

Looks shifted to Phee to await her response.

She hesitated- thinking of what to say. "Well uh, in some cultures this item," She holds it up, "Can be used in seduction and sexual activities."

Hunter promptly covered Omegas ears, placing his hands over them.

No one said anything, a little put off by her comment.

Tech didn't even look up from his datapad at Phee's next comment.

"Since your 'sources' don't have information on this, perhaps I could show you. First hand." She steps closer, ignoring your sour stance. "For research, of course." She added, a hand on her hip.

"Excuse me?" You made your input, stepping between her and Tech.

She scoffs but doesn't move. "I wasn't asking you." All eyes were on you two except for Tech's. He only glanced up from his datapad for a second.

"Besides, I think brown eyes here needs a change. Someone who can really handle him." She knew exactly what she was doing. Tech finally lowers the datapad to look at you fully.

That was it.

"Oh hell-!" Hunter steps in, not wanting a fight.

"I think you two need to cool off. Let's all take a break- Phee, is there someplace we can settle down for the night?" To be fair, Phee did owe us for helping her on her mission.

You breathe deep, stepping back. While you still wanted to bash her head in- you also wanted a comfy bed to sleep in. Rolling your eyes would have to do for now.

Hunter eyed you once again, eyebrows raised. You knew he was just trying to find a place to recoup and get our allies straight. Especially after you all left Cid.

"I can arrange three rooms, four if brown eyes wants to spend the night with me." Before he could respond, you did for him.

"We'll manage." You stated.

After meeting with Shep Hazard, Phee led everyone to their respective rooms. She had an obnoxious 'sweeter than life' attitude.

It was going to be Wrecker, Hunter and Tech, then Omega and you sharing rooms. No one wanted to hear Wrecker snoring.

Then, Hunter suggested that you and Tech needed some alone time, which you were grateful for. Omega and Tech switched, letting you be with him.

While this would have put you in a good mood, you couldn't help but let your thoughts run. You knew Tech was loyal, but why didn't he say anything? He just stood there and let Phee run her mouth. He had never told Phee to stop flirting- heck, he didn't tell her 'no' about spending the night with her. You did.

You hated that you felt this way, but nothing you told yourself calmed your nerves. Were you jealous? Insecure? or being irrational? Swallowing, you try to ignore. It seemed easier.

Hours later, you found yourself in bed with Tech. He was sat up, leaning against the headboard. He was only in his blacks, armor pieces neatly resting on a nearby table. He did however keep yours and his blasters in arms reach. Just in case.

You were also bare of your armor, but was clad in a nightgown instead. The blacks were far too hot for you to sleep comfortably in. You lay across Tech's legs horizontally, your midsection resting on his right knee.

You lounged your head on lifted crossed arms, still lost in thought. Tech was preoccupied, his datapad was propped up by your back- convenient for him.

He tapped and scrolled away with one hand, the other rested on your hip. Your gown hiked up as he thumbed across and into the natural grooves of your waist and hip. It gave his brain the mindless stimulation it needed to concentrate better.

You were quiet for awhile, trying to fall asleep. It escaped you, and you realized that you would need to talk to Tech if you wanted to have a good night.

"Tech?" You mumbled.

"Yes, what is the matter?" He asked immediately.

Your head was still down, and words muffled. "Can we talk about earlier?" You felt silly for asking.

You didn't see, but heard him fix his goggles. "Concerning what issue?"

You sighed and propped yourself up on an elbow, turning to look at him. His hand fell from your raised hip to your inner thigh when you moved. This didn't go unnoticed by you, but Tech seemed to do it subconsciously.

"Do you really not know what i'm talking about?" He just stared at you, eyes not leaving yours.

"With Phee... When we first got here?" You reminded him.

"Ah, I do recall that altercation." He said, turning the datapad off and moving it to the side.

"What about it?" He continued.

You scrunched your face. "Tech, about what Phee said. What else?"

He raised his eyebrows in understanding. "About Phee's suggestions?"

"Yes! You didn't even say anything! Tech, shes been flirting with you the whole time. She tried to get you in her bed!" You were slightly frustrated and a little defeated.

He rubbed his chin, thinking about her words. "I did not agree to her advances. Trust that it is not in my intentions to be with her. In any way." You blinked at him, biting the inside of your cheek when he absent mindedly rubbed your thigh up and down.

"I just... You never denied her, I guess I just thought you considered it..." You couldn't meet his gaze when you said this.

"Well that's an absurd thought." Was all he said, only continuing when you looked at up him.

"I thought ignoring her would be a sufficient response. I will confront her with a more vigorous attitude next time." He decided, thinking the matter was over.

You smiled, Tech didn't see it as a big deal. Not for any reason other than- he didn't want her. He saw no need to dwell on it, as the thought of leaving you wasn't even an option.

At this, you leaned up and hugged him. He hugged you back, a bit confused. There were quite a few occasions when he didn't understand your physical matters with him, but he let you do as you pleased.

With arms locked around his neck you spoke. "You don't have to do that... Just knowing that you aren't even paying mind to her is enough for me."

He nodded, keeping still as you moved up next to him.

He clicked the lamp off and let you get comfortable, snuggling up on his side.

"As for any future women or matters, you are the only one I could ever be with." He said, staring up at the ceiling. One of his hands finding its way back to feel some kind of your skin.

You nuzzled into his neck, "Really?"

"Of course, there is a very low percentage of people who can actually stand being around me." He said, completely serious. You laughed anyways.

"What is so funny?"

"Nothing," You smiled, like it was an inside joke, "Just go to sleep, I love you."

"I love you too."

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I am loving everyone's request, and I am working on more as you read this! I just needed to get the fic idea out of my head and in writing, thanks for bearing with me :)

Tags- (LMK if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

#star wars #tbb #star wars the bad batch #fem reader #fanfic #tbb x reader #clone force 99 #bad batch #the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #tech x reader #tech x you #tech tbb #tech the bad batch #clone trooper tech #tech bad batch #tbb season 2 #tbb fanfiction #tbb spoilers #tbb hunter #tbb tech #sw tbb #star wars x reader #I HATE TAGGING #tbb omega #sw the bad batch #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #tbb crosshair #Tech x fem!reader

[eskumii]

yandere!incel!tomura shigaraki + foreigner!darling who can't speak japanese

TITLE: " RENT-A-GF " — navi.

NOTES: nsfw (18+ only) below the cut (non-con!! somnophilia!!) reminder: this is merely fantasy, i don't condone. will prob proofread someday lol. enjoy!

PAIRING: yandere!incel!shigaraki tomura x foreinger!reader

GENRE/AU: shigaraki is rlly misogynistic and delusional, age gap (you're older), reader is a substitute english teacher who got kidnapped by bwad gwuys and is now... yeah

CHARACTERS: shigaraki tomura (21), reader (24)

let's be for real: shigaraki was born to be an incel.

and incel!shigaraki is shamelessly self-aware of this, indeed. when he's not out terrorizing innocent citizens with his villainous coups, he takes to the internet to fulfill his insatiable need for an adrenaline rush. gorey video games and brutal death metal makes him light up in glee, but sometimes it's just not enough.

so, instead, he's a frequent on the dark web, diligently scouring sites that specialize in obscure female porn collectives that cater to his twisted kinks. incel!shigaraki glowers at the pictures of stupid, slutty women who prance around in sexy lingerie, but still gets a hard-on because he wishes he had a woman who would do that for him and him only.

and what shigaraki wants, he gets. on another sweaty night in his dark bedroom, he's boredly clicking through the hundreds of entries of women who are being sold for, what he thinks, too high of a price. not that money would ever be a problem for him; if he felt compelled to, he could just kidnap the girl he wanted all over again. so, no, it's not the price—it's what he thinks they're worth based on his attraction to them.

and, so far, all of them are worthless.

you see, the conundrum is that incel!shigaraki has a thing for foreign girls. don't ask why, he doesn't know. maybe he finds it cute that they're so clueless about his culture and language, and he's the one who'll control the narrative that rules their ignorance. maybe it's so cute how they wear their perpetual confusion on their face at all times, like a bratty kid who can't navigate the world without mommy or daddy by their side.

of course, though, women could hardly do anything on their own anyway. every time he came across one they'd wail and cry as he grabbed them by the hair and threatened to kill them if they didn't shut the hell up. they'd beg for their lives or scream for someone to save them, but it would only piss him off more at how useless and brainless they tended to be. he just couldn't help but decay them—they were so noisy and whiny, it wasn't his fault.

obviously, shigaraki has neither patience nor experience with women. in fact, he can probably count with two fingers how many times he's had a non-violent interaction with a woman in his entire lifetime. the mere thought of this drives his insecurities to the brink of rage, but it's not his fault women are so unbelievably tasteless in their choice of men. it's their fault he has to go to such lengths to find a decent woman worthy of his presence.

but imagine his delight when he happens upon a listing of you, an immediately attractive foreign woman who used to be an english substitute teacher of all things. he clicks through your pictures with a renewed vigor, his interest piqued as he studies your unique features. eagerly, he scours through your posted information and it turns out that you happen to be exactly the kind of woman he's looking for.

it's a done deal. the transaction takes less than a few minutes and incel!shigaraki couldn't be more pleased with how smoothly it went. he'll have to leave a good review later on, when and if the woman he's just bought has satisfied him.

it takes just one night before shigaraki finds you literally dropped off at his doorstep like an amazon prime package. you’ve clearly been pampered with the way you’re clad in a skimpy maid outfit; your nails, hair, and makeup are all dolled to perfection. you look exactly like you did in the pictures.

and clearly you're wise beyond your years. you don't speak much because of the obvious language barrier, but you do seem to understand a bit of elementary japanese. shigaraki is delighted by your small mutterings of broken japanese—it’s unbelievably cute. sometimes he'll force you to speak in japanese just because he loves watching you struggle with your limited vocabulary.

incel!shigaraki gets attached to you. you're very attractive in his eyes, and he's completely ecstatic that you're all his. a woman he can do whatever he wants with, and no one would dare question him. the immense power trip sends him over the edge.

that being said, the first couple of weeks are still rather... awkward. you're not happy about being in the situation you're in, but you're smart enough to keep that to yourself. you don't fuss when shigaraki orders you to fetch him liquor or tidy up his filthy room, nor do you complain when he commands you to cuddle with him or keep him company while he plays video games.

"[name], c'mere," he'd bark at you, eyes still glued to the tv screen.

"be a good girl and keep my lap warm, hm?"

he'll force you to wear cute lingerie sets like he's seen the women on porn sites do. somehow you look so much better though, and it feels as though you're teasing him with the way you bend over so much while cleaning. the outline of your pussy through the small fabric that stretches over it has him horny in a matter of seconds. you're such a tease, aren't you ashamed? you just can't seem to stay in line.

however, despite all your obvious sexual innuendos towards him, shigaraki gets no relief. he's resorted to jacking off whenever you go to sleep but no matter how hard or how much he cums, there's an itch that can't be scratched with masturbation alone. and the way you're so shy around him is adorable, sure, but your little playing-hard-to-get act wasn't cutting it anymore.

the remedy? incel!shigaraki starts slipping sleeping pills into your food and drinks.

and it doesn't take long for shigaraki to develop a routine of visiting you while you're sleeping. partly to check up on you and assure himself of your presence, but mostly to creep around the edges of the bed and feel you up. you sleep so soundly that you don't even twitch when he fondles your soft breasts or runs his spindly fingers over your curves.

he almost doesn't want to disturb you; you look so peaceful, totally different than the frightened little faces you muster when you're awake. but the bothersome tightness stretching his boxers taut against its stitches makes it hard to resist his urges. anyway, you're simply doing the only thing a woman is good for: using your body to please him.

his breath is hot and heavy, laced with lust and selfish perversion as he defiles you to get himself off. some nights he just sits and admires your beauty, caressing your face with clumsy, inexperienced fingertips. some nights your shirt is pulled up so he can marvel at how nicely your breasts sit in whatever color bra he forced you to wear.

other nights his cock is nestled between them, thrusting like his life depends on it, chasing that euphoric high he gets when he finally spills his seed across your hardening nipples. and other nights shigaraki is even more daring—cute pajama pants and panties below your knees, face buried between your thighs as he explores every inch of your sweet cunt. he knows it's wrong, but so what? he's a villian, that's what makes it feel so right.

when you make faces in your sleep, he's filled with so much genuine affection—it's almost as if you're telling him he's doing a good job. you love it, don't you? he so desperately wants to hear you cry his name in that precious accent of yours and run your hands through his hair as you lavish your praise upon him for making you cream so many times.

he can't keep his eyes off you. so soft and compliant. you're so pretty while he's stuffing his cock into you and relentlessly flicking your little clit, not stopping even when he feels you clench around him like a vice as you orgasm over and over. not stopping even though you're drooling all over the linen sheets and he's came twice already.

"that's right... y-you gonna cum again? you gonna—ngh—cum all over my cock, you dumb whore?"

shigaraki watches with glassy, intrigued eyes as you squirm ever so slightly, face warped into one of undeniable pleasure as he ravages your gushing pussy. you're such a good girl for him, letting him use you as he wishes.

you're the woman he's chosen to give his virginity to. he's so happy and content that when he cums inside of you for the third time, he doesn't pull out. instead, shigaraki gently maneuvers your body so he can spoon you from behind, whispering tender "i love you's" as if he knows what that means. absently grinding his hips because your warmth is so comforting around his sticky, softening dick.

as much as shigaraki wants to stay and pound you into the mattress all night, the sleeping medication doesn't last forever. not to mention the mess you've made; the sheets are completely ruined and your clothes are strewn about on the floor, long forgotten. it's hot in your room and it stinks of his cum and sweat, but it doesn't really matter. the only thing on his mind is you and how he'll ruin you again tomorrow night.

for now, though, he rewards you for being so good by cleaning you up, smirking whenever you unconsciously nuzzle up to his touch. when your clothes are back on, he plants a tender kiss on your forehead and admires your flushed face from the shadows of your bedside. when the sun begins to rise and you stir in your ignorance, he'll sneak out and act as if nothing ever happened.

incel!shigaraki who doesn't deny that you're just another stupid slutty woman, but you're the only woman he'll ever want to cum inside of. when he returns to his room, he remembers to pull up your archived listing on his computer and dazedly taps away at his keyboard.

"10/10 recommend"

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere bnha #yandere bnha x reader #yandere-bnha #yandere shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #yandere mha #yandere hcs #incel shigaraki #yandere shigaraki x reader

[love-lilly02]

The Challenge Pt. 3

He had never been so fucking aggrivated in his whole goddamn life.

Countless times, he was able to track down anyone based on the smallest piece of information. You give him a first name, he has their social security number. You give him a face, he has their entire family lineage lined up and ready to go.

With birth certificates to confirm.

And now he had your personal records - your full legal name, birthdate, parents name and occupation , plus whatever else was required to enlist in the military. It was all right at his fingertips, readily available, prime for the taking.

And he had found absolutely. Fucking. Nothing.

Price exhaled heavily, running his hand over his face. The computer glared at him angrily, blinding him against the dark of his office. Your records sat in front of him, multiple copies spread out and annotated to point out different information. Your full name, family names, birthdays. Anything that he could use to help find information on you.

All of it was worthless.

"Still up?" Gaz walked into the office, flicking on the light. "You won't find anything if you overwork yourself, you know." Price groaned internally, glancing at the younger man in front of him.

"Better than having to wait for a lead." Price said. Gaz hummed, moving to stand behind the captain's chair. " 'Fuckin hopeless. This girl's got nothing on her. I've been looking for a week nonstop and the best I could figure out is that she's got siblings. Not even who they are, just that she has them."

Gaz massaged his captain's shoulders, reveling in the relived groan he let out. " Jus' ask her, cap. I'm sure she would be willing to-"

"Gaz I can't just ask. That defeats the purpose of the challenge." That wasn't exactly true, but he didn't care. He was determined to win this challenge on his own.

"Soap tried and he got a few good answers. You said it yourself, we work as a team, well get her as a team." He could do nothing but nod along to the man's words.

"Just wish it could be faster."

It had been a week. 

One entire week of absolutely nothing, no questions, no pestering. 

Nothing. 

Part of you was relived. Maybe they forgot, or just gave up. Another knew that this has to be some kind of ruse, these men were entirely too stubborn to give up on something like this. 

Every second of silence had you questioning your skills. You could go back in and double check, do a run over of your parents accounts to be sure they hadn’t posted anything. But going in on the base’s wifi guaranteed getting caught so that was out. 

Your phone was essentially useless, just another way to track down your movements, and it wasn’t like you could call someone and ask them to do it for you. 

So you waited. and waited. and waited. And nothing happened. Save for a few curious glances from Price, all seemed to be well. 

The next lead actually came from Gaz, of all people. 

You were all sitting in the rec room, watching Soap yell at some rookies over a soccer game. Every so often he would look back at the team for assistance, but it was very seldom that one of you would nod or side with him. Otherwise you stayed quiet and watched the entertainment. 

“You ever play sports?” Gaz asked, sipping his drink carefully. The question sounded casual but you knew the weight behind it, and as if a switch flipped off both Price and Ghost leaned in closer to hear your response. 

“Tried a few different ones.” You passed it off with a shrug. “None ever really stuck.”

“How come?” It was prices turn then, and at some point Soap had been flagged back over to the couch to listen. All four of your teammates were now sitting attentively around you, looking like children during story time. 

“ ‘Dunno. I’d do a sport for a while, get good and then loose interest.” You take a sip of your drink. “I’m sure if I tried any of them now I’d be shit.”

A loose chuckle flew through the room, and you saw Price roll his eyes. The four of them shared a look, though you couldn’t quite pin down what it was. 

“What was your favorite?” Soap prompted, shuffling closer. “I’m a soccer guy myself - obviously - but I can see you doing volleyball.”

“Or track,” Ghost spoke up this time, lifting his glass in a salute almost. “ ‘Runs so fast you’d swear she’s on fire.” 

That made you roll your eyes. “I got recommended for track but turned it down. The coach said-“ They all waited for you to finish, but you shook your head. “No, no I’m not talking about this.”

Soap groaned. “Awh, come off it lass. Just a bit of small talk, eh?” 

“Yeah, so you can get more information outa me.” You responded, setting your glass on the table. “That night was the last time i get drunk and blabber off to you lot. You want those photos, you’ll have to find them yourselves.”

Instead of a laugh there was a groan, even Ghost looked disheartened at your words. 

“Come on, luv. you gotta give us something.” Soap pleaded, giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes ever. 

“We have something. She’s got siblings, a brother and a sister by the sounds of it.” You whipped around at Prices words, staring at him with a mix of shock and horror. 

“How did you-“

“Your files. Did some deeper digging a few nights ago. The problem is, I can’t find anything related to you or them. Got your parents stuff just fine, nothing on your siblings.” He pauses, eying you up and down. “Like they don’t exist at all.”

There’s a tense silence in the room, and you stare at your captain with a blank expression. “Dunno what to tell you. Look harder, maybe?”

The tone of your voice is flat, and the team sees an emotion they haven’t seen on you in a while. 

Fear.

“Maybe." Is all Price says, reaching in his pocket to grab a cigar.

Things from there go somewhat back to normal, although you’re significantly more quiet than usual. Finally after what you deem is an acceptable time you turn in for bed, Making a B-line for your rooms. 

“That’s not normal.” Is all Ghost says. “People aren’t scared of their families.”

“Hypocrite,” Soap calls back. A pillow is flung at his head shortly after. 

“Simon’s right. She seems to come from good sort, why doesn’t she want anyone finding out about her history?” Gaz ponders quietly, tapping his hands against the arm of the couch. 

“That’s for us to find out, apparently.” Price places his hand on top of Gaz’s, silencing the rythmic taps. 

The soldiers sit there for what feels like an eternity, pondering over the mystery that is their teammate. 

You don’t sleep at all that night. Tracking be dammed, you have to make sure that everything is clean. You knew that your files could be a huge risk, as you were required to list all family members, but you didn’t think Price would lay that much attention. You didn’t think anyone would pay that much attention.  

Just shows how inconsiderate you are. 

All of your socials and your parents socials are clear. Your siblings are something you don’t have to worry about, as they aren’t allowed phones till they’re older, much less social media. you check over all of your old friends stuff too, ensure that all pictures with you in them were taken down, anything with your name was removed entirely. 

You avoid the main problem. In the event that they’re somehow smart enough to figure out they can track your search history through the wifi. 

The less they could find the better. 

Here she is!! Thank you so much to all the people who left a note (even if it's just a like) your interactions helped so much with getting motivation! I hope to have the next chapter out sometime this week, but there wont be any promises <333

My Masterlist

#cod x reader #poly 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #simon riley x reader #poly 141 #john price x reader #simon ghost x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #kyle gaz x reader

[vacantwatchers]

I don't want this rotting in my notes app anymore, so here, have a wip I started randomly in '22 that I never plan to finish. If you prefer read it on AO3

"I thought he was different, Rob. When he said I love you back, it felt real. Like he looked at me, and finally, someone saw I was a person with depth and not just a role to fill."

Steve swallowed, the press of his bathroom cabinets grounding him as he dropped his head back to the lip of the counter.

"I don't... I said I love you. I said it for the second time... why does this keep happening to me? What do I do to make people twist and mould into something else until they tell me I'm worthless to them?"

He was crying now. He couldn't fight it anymore.

"God, Robin. It... Dustin saw it. He was there and he heard them laughing, he was there when they looked up and saw - I wish he wasn't there. I wish it never happened, that he wasn't there. That I wasn't there. Then maybe I could still believe I was capable of finding someone who loved me."

Eyes squeezed shut, Steve banged his head back against the counter gently. "Isn't it terrible that even after this, I'm glad he didn't call me bullshit? Like fuck, all of it was a lie to gain money from a bet but at least he didn't tell me I was, my feelings, were bullshit." He breathed out a heavy sigh. "I think knowing my feelings were nothing but a means to fifty bucks is worse than anything I've faced in the last four years. My love and worth have a fucking price on them and I'm not even the one who can cash it in."

Standing in the doorway of Eddie's trailer and hearing Jeff and Freak laugh with Eddie about how 'wouldn't it be hilarious if he thought it was real' and 'God you get fifty just for getting him to say I love you' and then Eddie looking over and freezing, looking first at Dustin in front of him then flicking his gaze up to meet his.

Knowing Eddie could read the way his heart crunpled through just his eyes, could probably tell how hard it was beating in his chest as his hands shook by his side.

Somehow, seeing the horror on Gareth's face was what sealed it as being real for him, had him pulling away from the door and back down the driveway to his car, ignoring Eddie as he called out his name.

The weight of the phone cradled into his shoulder brought Steve back to the present, back to his bathroom and the presence of his best friend on the other side of a speaker, even though all he could hear was her breathing as she thought out what she was going to say.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #i'm not writing a part 2 #steddie fic

[baldurs-gape]

Silence

There was a lot Cazador had done over two hudred years. A lot he had taken away, beaten out of or simply tainted to the point that Astarion no longer took pleasure in something. But the one thing he never could fully extinguish was Astarion's tendency to be vocal about anything and everything, usually in the form of complaining.

The tadpole and the sudden freedom was difficult to trust so Astarion kept to safe habits. He didn't miss the appreciative looks his newfound companions sent his way. As little as he was worth, Astarion knew that his value lay in his looks. Cazador had been kind enough to teach him that, had made sure he was well-built, always looked appealing to as many as possible. The price for failing was high enough that Astarion also put a lot of care into learning how to look his best.

"We're not seriously having onion, cheese and the red swill you call wine again, are we?" Astarion sighed as the group settled around the campfire.

"Don't like it, don't eat it." Lae'zel shrugged and glared at him. "Good luck foraging in the forest in the dark for something better."

Seizing the permission, Astarion sneered back as he stood up. "Fine. I'm sure I can do better." He did. Drained a whole boar and spent half the night on his back, so full that his stomach actually hurt as it stretched around so much blood.

It was the start of something. Insidious and slow in a way Cazador never had the patience for, not when it came to Astarion. The phrase "shut up, Astarion" became a daily motto to the point the others were beginning to chuckle about it. He'd heard it plenty enough before, Cazador often told him to quit his whinging. The other spawn were also prone to ignoring him. But that had been a different situation. Despite living through it for so long, Astarion knew, deep down, that it wasn't right. Cazador was just one man, one tyrant who controlled Astarion like a puppet, while the other spawn were all bitter, scared and trying to survive. To be told to shut up by them was like being stung by a wasp and being surprised about it. With his newfound allies though? Astarion had no such excuses to hide behind.

"All I'm saying is that we could go back to camp for a nice rest," he grumbled.

"Shut up and keep moving." There was a growl to Wyll's voice as he marched on at a relentless pace. It was all very well that he could continue but Astarion was tired, hungry and not in the mood to play pretend being a hero. Alas, outnumbered as he was because the others didn't slow down either, Astarion had to keep walking or risk being left behind. As it was, he didn't dare leave the safety of the group, fear of Cazador finding him was still too high.

The longer he spent at camp, the more chances he had to feed, especially as the others stopped paying him so much attention.

"Freedom suits you," Shadowheart called as he washed his shirt. "Made you softer."

Glancing down, Astarion had to think very quickly to hide his true feelings. "Darling, are you calling me fat?"

It was true though, there was a bit of give to his stomach, no longer flat and the muscles clrealy visible under his skin. Cazador would have called him fat for that, undesirable and worthless. Maybe the rest of the group were less interested in him because he wasn't appealing anymore and Astarion grit his teeth in resolve so hard that he almost missed Shadowheart's reply.

"Oh do be quiet. You know what I mean."

He didn't though. Or rather, he did but wished he didn't. That night Astarion didn't go out to hunt. He went hungry the next day. And the next.

By the time his true nature came to light, Astarion was back to his usual self. It was probably what had saved him. As Cazador used to say, it would have been such a shame to rid the world of such beauty, even if it couldn't keep quiet. Part of Astarion hated that Cazador was right, people really were less likely to murder the beautiful.

In the Underdark Shadowheart had turned to him with a lewd smile. "This place suits you. Perhaps it's part of being a creature of the night. It's always night here."

And it was desolate as fuck, devoid of any living creature. So was the Shadowcursed Lands. Astarion was hungry. So very hungry.

"I just want a small nibble," he sighed. "Not even enough for anyone to notice."

"We all need to be on top form, soldier," Karlach muttered. "And it's not like any of us are feeling satiated by any sense of the word. You're not that special."

No, of course Astarion wasn't special. They were all hungry, tired and scared. It was nothing out of the ordinary compared to the last two hunderd years.

Coated in grotesque slime wasn't Astarion's idea of a pleasant time. He wipes ineffectively at his face and flicked what he could to the ground.

"Ruined my shirt. Ruined my hair."

"And you're ruining what little I have left of good will," Gale spat angrily. "Can't you just be quiet for once. I get it, you're a special little vampire who lived in a castle and now has to slum it with the rest of us. But Mystra have mercy, you're making the rest of us feel even worse."

"At least I'm making you feel something. Better than being a forgotten, burnt out waste of talent." Hurt had Astarion lashing out. He hadn't even been talking to Gale, just muttering to himself about his own misfortune. But Gale made a very good point. If he wasn't having a positive impact on the group then he risked being left behind. The more he saw of the world, the more Astarion knew for sure that he wouldn't last long out there on his own. Cazador's spies were everywhere and it was just a matter of time before he was dragged back and punished. It was better to stay quiet and appease his protectors than risk such a thing.

Lifting the curse meant Halsin joined them in their camp. Even stranger, he offered himself up as a meal for Astarion. Hunger outweighed the worry of cost. Astarion knew what he had to offer and acted accordingly. After only a few sips he licked the wound clean and shut before kneeling back.

"You can take more," Halsin offered with heavy lidded eyes. "Don't go hungry."

"I've taken all I need." The lie rolled off Astarion's lips as he patted his flat stomach. Under his shirt his muscles were outlined once again, exactly as they should be. "You've done me a great favour, I haven't had anything as delicious as you in a long time, if ever. How could I ever repay you?"

Halsin smiled up at him. This was it, this was where Astarion traded his body for survival again. Despite knowing this was the outcome when he accepted Halsin's blood, he still dreaded it.

"I was hoping to hear more about your adventures."

The absurdness of the request had a laugh burst from Astarion before he could cover it with something more airy and appealing. "Darling, if you want bedtime stories then Wyll's your man. My talents involve my mouth but a lot less talking."

Still smiling, Halsin shook his head. "Maybe another night then, when you're more comfortable to share some memories."

Such words lingered on Astarion's mind. He hadn't ever been wanted for conversational company. Usually as long as he had one hole stuffed, him companion(s) didn't want anything coherent out of him. Still, it made him hope which Astarion hated so much. But if Halsin was interested then maybe he could try it. Settling by the fire as everyone ate, Astarion listened, waited for his opportunity.

"That ended my attempts at learning to keep the shape of a rat," Gale finished his story and the whole group laughed. "Tara was mortified and I couldn't get the whiskers to retract for a week!"

"Rats were one of the constants in Cazador's castle, no matter how hard he tried to eradicate them." It was a smooth transition, at least Astarion thought so.

"Urgh, spare us the woe and misery," Karlach groaned. "Can't we have just one night where we don't talk about the shit things in life? Let us have a bit of fun!"

Looking around the fire, Astarion saw various nods and heard murmurs of agreement. He knew when he was beaten and Cazador had taught him well. Averting his eyes, he slouched a little, nonchalant yet deferential. "My apologies, I didn't realise my stories about training rats to do circus tricks would be so depressing." Standing up, he gave the group a hollow smile. "Please, enjoy your evening of careless fun away from reality."

As he walked away he heard mutters of "didn't have to take it so personally" and "what a little bitch". The rest of the words he tuned out, not needing to etch into his brain yet more derogatory comments to harmonise with Cazador's words. Walking past his tent, Astarion made his way away from camp, into the dark wilderness. Plopping down on a mound at the edge of a small clearing, he closed his eyes. This was fine. He had changed to suit Cazador's tastes, he could do it again. Not overnight, he needed to learn exactly what was needed of him.

The fact a bear lumbered up next to him should have been a shock. Instead, Astarion stared at it and wondered what he'd taste like to a bear. However, rather than attack, the bear shifted and Halsin stood there.

"Apologies if I startled you, it's easier to find people in the dark as a bear."

"Nothing to apologise for, I should have been paying more attention. Did you need something."

Settling at the base of the mound, Halsin gazed up at the stars. "I was intrigued by rats and circus tricks."

A bitter laugh trickled out of Astarion. "Darling, I did no such thing." Leaning forward, he teased as if imparting some great secret. "Karlach was right, I was going to say how rats all tasted different based on what they'd last eaten. And how Gale likely still tasted just as vile in rat form as in human form. That orb of his certainly sours his appeal."

He didn't expect Halsin to laugh brightly. "I would have loved to have seen his face at hearing that. Do you think Karlach would taste like a fiery pepper?"

Something like delight briefly flitted over Astarion's face as Halsin so easily picked up the thread.

"Well, you're earthy and rich. I think she would certainly have a kick but more like a prank candy. Shadowheart would be a fine aged brandy that has started to turn so it just ever so slightly bitter."

"Lae'zel would taste like pickles!" Halsin blurted out with a wide smile. "And Wyll would be water." It had Astarion actually grinning even as Halsin continued, "My apologies, I do not have the poetic skills you harbour. Leather shoes or wooden clogs are about as creative as I can get with descriptors."

"And yet you're all the more compelling for your upfront honesty. Like a cool breeze on a hot summer night, refreshing yet also mysterious."

The way Halsin flushed was a delight. Without thinking too much, Astarion gave up his perch in favour of scooching down to sit next to Halsin. Their shoulders bumped together and Astarion stayed quiet. He could learn what Halsin wanted him to be. But something told him that all Halsin wanted him to be was himself. A terrifying prospect yet Astarion found himself looking forward to finding out who he really was.

#bloodbear #halstarion #astarion/halsin #astarion x halsin #astarion #bg3 astarion #halsin #bg3 halsin #baldur's gate 3 #bg3

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Trey Clover - Platinum Jacket Voice Lines

When Summoned: Never expected I'd ever end up an art museum supporter... I'll do my best to tout the beautiful art.

Summon Line: An art museum, hm... This is a good opportunity to train up my imagination. Alright, I'm going to take a look at everything I can.

Groooovy!!: A cat that can turn invisible, huh. Ooh, maybe it's right behind you even now～ Just kidding.

Home: Celebrating the 100th anniversary is pretty amazing.

Home Idle 1: I'm not terrible at designing cakes, but drawing is a whole different matter... Even if they both require the use of imagination.

Home Idle 2: Cater told me to go on ahead, because he just couldn't get the angle right on a photo he wanted to take... How he can keep up with that for each photo, I'll never know.

Home Idle 3: I think I should be able to recreate the cake that was in the picture with the Queen of Hearts... I'll use mousse for the base, and add meringue on top... Hm...

Home Idle - Login: With all these exhibits, what's the best route to take to view them all? ...Well, I guess I'll just have to start heading towards the exit and view them all in that order.

Home Idle - Groovy: I was pretty impressed that even though we were looking at the same painting, Leona was capable of thinking on the actual story it might have been trying to tell. Art appreciation goes deeper than I thought.

Home Tap 1: Azul shared with me an anecdote about the Sea Witch that I had never heard of before. It's very cool to see the difference in which stories get told on the surface and under the sea.

Home Tap 2: Idia was checking out a painting of the Lord of the Underworld, but I don't think I've ever seen him be that focused before... He must have really liked it.

Home Tap 3: The shop had some toothpicks made to look like the card soldiers' spears. Might look good to decorate the dishes for our parties, so I think I'll buy some.

Home Tap 4: So, the magic lamp only grants three wishes, huh. I feel like even if I got my hands on it, I'd just end up asking for something worthless.

Home Tap 5: I can't help but be a little stiff wearing formal attire like this. ...It suits me? Well, that's good, at least... Thanks for the compliment.

Home Tap - Groovy: Did you find a painting you liked? You'll have to tell me later which one was your favorite.

Duo: [TREY]: I'm counting on you, Leona. [LEONA]: You owe me one, Trey.

Birthday Login Message: Thanks for celebrating my birthday. But I have to say, I wasn't expecting you to have my gift delivered to my dorm like that. You should have just handed it to me directly, since we were meeting up, anyway. Was I shocked? Well, yes... Ah, so it was supposed to be a surprise present! Haha, oh man. You're always finding ways to startle me.

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #trey clover #leona kingscholar #twst trey #twst leona #twst translation #twst birthday #mention: cater #mention: azul #mention: idia

[save-the-villainous-cat]

villain x hero where the hero gets seriously injured after a fight and looses a limb, and the villain makes them a new robotic one? :0

It was strange technology, unknown to the hero and definitely not...legal. Their new arm was perfectly fine, without any errors, without any unexpected movements. It was a perfect replica of their old arm and yet...

"It's linked to your brain," the villain explained. "I've constructed one very similar to this one a few years ago. I'm confident that you won't have any troubles."

The hero formed a fist over and over again, training their hand but even that didn't seem to be necessary. The villain looked at the data on their computer, avoiding the hero's eyes. Their ears were red.

"You don't have to feel guilty," the hero said. "You don't have to do this out of pity."

"I know," the villain mumbled.

"We both know you had to cut it off. It was damaged beyond repair."

"I know," the villain said again. They looked at the hero for a split second before their eyes found the monitor again. The villain had always been someone rather nervous. Fidgeting often, a little clumsy even. "You're left-handed. You need your arm in battle."

The hero didn't know the villain was aware of that.

"No, I can't accept this. It's too much," they said. They eyed the arm, perfect in its functionality and pleasant in its aesthetic. It looked futuristic and touching the table, feeling the cool surface was like a memory they had lost coming back to them.

"I'm not gonna take it back. What am I supposed to do with a third arm?" The villain laughed and it was soft. Very sweet. It tempted the hero and almost made them smile.

"You're kind," the hero said. It had been a chore to them, fighting and protecting. The job had made them bitter and a little cold. It wasn't something they wanted to be. They wanted to be as excited as the villain, as optimistic as them, they wanted to be free of responsibility like them. It was unrealistic wishful thinking.

When they had lost their arm, they hadn't spoken for weeks. Because, honestly, once they were old (if they made it that far), how much of their body would be left? In a year they might lose a leg, they might lose their fingers. The arm was nice but it wasn't real. It wasn't them.

"I've been cruel for a long time," the villain said. "And I have made mistakes. But you saved me and you shouldn't suffer because of it."

Their eyes locked.

"I'll be honest. I like the arm. But it isn't the same. I still feel as if a part of myself is lost. As if I am still incomplete. I still feel unnatural. I know I shouldn't...I know it's not my place to..."

"It's not about the arm. It's about the touch. It's about being able to experience life to the fullest. It doesn't matter what it looks like or that the original is lost. It's about experiencing life in the best way possible," the villain explained. "Physical touch is important. It is a universal language that everyone understands...no wonder that all of us crave it. I didn't make this because you're worthless without an arm or incomplete, I made this..."

The villain didn't finish the sentence right away. They looked a little lost in thought. "...I made this for you."

"I have never liked physical touch that much," the hero admitted. "But I have to admit, I did crave it. I craved a gentle form of it."

"You haven't experienced much gentleness, have you?" the villain asked and the hero didn't answer since the answer was quite clear. "Come here."

The hero hesitated but when the villain stood up from their chair, they did the same. The villain took their arm, the robotic one, and guided it towards their face until the hero could feel their cheek pressed against their palm. It was warm and it felt real, it felt kind.

Automatically, their other hand followed until they cupped the villain's other cheek. The villain closed their eyes and smiled softly.

"Can I touch you, too?" The hero nodded slowly and as the villain's fingertips brushed against their cheeks, they felt a peace they hadn't felt in a very long time.

#writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #request #an answer for an ask

[franklespine]

The scene at the start of All Hell Breaks Loose where Dean talks to Sam's corpse in that shack in the middle of nowhere is soul crushing to an incomprehensible level that the show hardly ever manages to reach again.

Firstly, what is revealed about Dean as he spills his heart open is devastating on a whole other level. Like there's grief and then there's this - it's like a piece of him has been torn out and he's left unable to literally function. It's not really a new idea in the series up to this point that Dean has centered his life around his family, in particular protecting Sam. As he starts off, he wishes so desperately that Sam didn't start asking questions about their family so Dean could preserve his innocence just a little bit longer. No doubt John put a lot of pressure on Dean to protect and look after Sam, but taking on this role was something that was all but written inside him, as he says, John didn't even have to tell him to do it, Sam was his responsibility. The tipping point in this scene is when Dean finally asks "what am I supposed to do" - how can he even begin to move beyond this? He doesn't care if the world ends anymore, doesn't care if Azazel wins and he never gets revenge. In asking this question Dean realises that he is incapable of letting go of Sam, of the responsibilities to his family he has built his life around like the grain of sand at the centre of the pearl, and of the crushing guilt that comes with 'failing' these responsibilities. The only way forwards is to force the laws of nature to bend for him and bring Sam back from the dead, no matter the cost.

Secondly, this is heart wrenching to me for Sam too. Here he is, 23 years old and lying dead on a dingy mattress in a shack in the middle of nowhere - the only escape from his dark destiny found in death. But the primary reason it seems that Dean makes this massive sacrifice to bring him back isn't because he's 23 and has so much of life he deserves to live, but because he is incapable of living under the weight of his guilt in failing him - that he is Dean's responsibility that he can't live with letting down. And this is not to say that Dean doesn't also bring him back because he loves and care for him as a person, but it's not like Dean was sitting there talking to Sam saying you didn't deserve this, we were so close to ending this, you deserved to go on to have a life that hasn't been built around and in grief and revenge, hell, you could've even gone back to university and had your happy ending. You know? It's like selling your soul for someone is a crazy batshit insane thing to do - the ultimate sacrifice. But same as with John, it seems that the reason behind it wasn't just pure love and desire for that person to live just because they didn't deserve to die. John needed Dean to be there to ensure Sam didn't go darkside - to kill him if he can't save him. In both cases it was out of love, but in this weird objectified way.

It's just so fascinating how this dynamic between the three Winchesters, love and sacrifice plays out in the early seasons. How supernatural finds selfishness at the centre of this seemingly sacrificial selfless act. The selfishness in martyrdom.

That's why this scene is just heart wrenching in my sad insane little head. Sam and Dean were crazy codependants before this but this scene marks a turn for the worst (in codependence) for them. This scene is like the solidification of Dean's belief that he is worthless and incapable of functioning without the responsibilities he holds to his family and solidifies that Sam is the little brother possession for Dean to protect and regulate until his time runs out and he's shipped off to hell - leaving him at the centre of his massacred family with all the fingers pointing in his direction. His mum was collateral damage to his anti-baptism by a demon, his Dad sold his soul for his brother's life to be the final yes or no in the decision of whether Sam deserves to live or not, and now his brother's gone and done the same for him. But hey, at least when Dean gets dragged down to hell it isn't with the weight of guilt that he failed his responsibilities.

(spoiler alert: he feels guilty for leaving Sam anyway and Sam spirals anyway).

#supernatural #spn #sam winchester #dean winchester #theyre just silly #silly little guys #i mean i could go on and on about the selling soul thing in s2/3 as an allegory for the cycles of emotional abuse #but that is a whole other can of worms for a different late night text post #also MERRY CHRISTMAS #yippee #i hope anyone who reads this and anyone who doesnt a very happy holiday #spn 2x22 #all hell breaks loose #spn meta #i guess

[underdark-dreams]

Rolan putting Tav in their place? But like….in a frisky way 👀🔥

Rolan x fem!Tav

Master

"Sit still and behave." She's feeling impatient for some attention from the Master of Ramazith's Tower. She decides he needs to let off some steam; Rolan decides to teach her some proper respect.

Tags: Obedience, Praise Kink, Soft Dom, Explicit Sexual Content | Word Count: 3,875 [Read on AO3]

“Did they even do the readings? Half of these are wrong…I’ll have to regive all the illusory lectures…”

Rolan’s brow furrowed deeper as he read down the page. Frustration practically radiated from the way he hunched over his desk, and she wished for the umpteenth time that he would just take a break.

“I’m sure they’ll get it with time,” she told him, gently rubbing his shoulders.

Inwardly, she found it difficult to feel concerned about his students’ grades at the moment. She was far too busy admiring how good Rolan looked when he was a bit disheveled. 

It was a rare sight; he preferred to keep his appearance clean and tidy at all times, his robes neatly pressed and hair half-pulled back to keep it out of his eyes. 

Right now, this was about as unkempt as she’d ever seen Rolan outside their bedroom. His hair was loose from its tie. As he worked, one lock swung forward between his horns, and he impatiently swept it away with the feather of his quill. He had pushed the sleeves of his underrobe up to his elbows. She watched the sinews of his forearm flex under his crimson skin as he scrawled a severe note on his student's parchment.

She knew his state was a testament to the stress he’d been under lately. Beyond her love for the petulant wizard seated in front of her, she didn’t have much personal experience with wizardry. But Rolan had said enough to impress upon her how important these upcoming exams were for his young pupils. For the oldest of them, their results could mean the difference between continuing their studies or finding another vocation. Rolan took the task of preparing them quite seriously. 

Perhaps too seriously, she thought to herself, watching the muscle of his jaw flex with concentration. The candles standing beside his desk were burned down to dripping puddles of wax.

He needed a good distraction, and that she could help with. She crossed forearms along the back of his chair and perched her chin on his shoulder.

“Come to bed?” She asked him. “You’ve been grading for hours.”

Rolan hardly seemed to hear her. "In a moment," he murmured.

It wasn't his usual response to a proposition. Teasing or enthusiasm she was used to, but flat out disinterest was new. It stung a little more than it had a right to.

She knew she should respect his work at hand. If he didn't look so downright frazzled, she might have.

Instead, she gave into the temptation to take advantage of his concentration. She slid one arm down around Rolan's shoulders and leaned in to tuck the curtain of his hair back behind one long red ear.

Then she kissed along the line of it from lobe to pointed tip. She'd always been fond of Rolan's Infernal gifts, particularly his sharply tapered ears—even more so as one of the few people allowed to appreciate them. His usual style kept them tucked and hidden behind his hair.

Rolan sighed slowly as her lips made their soft journey, just enough to satisfy her that she was getting to him. She knew she was being a nuisance, but it had been days since she had him to herself. Rolan was passionate about his work—she couldn’t help selfishly wanting a little of it for herself tonight.

“You’ve been sleeping at your desk too much lately,” she murmured against the shell of his ear. 

“Can’t be helped,” Rolan replied, although the fingers of his free hand raised to the arm she had curled over his collar. “These exams are the most consequential step in an apprenticeship. I’d be a worthless archmage if I let my students arrive at Blackstaff unprepared.”

“Rolan, there’s no way that would happen.” She broke away slightly to look at the thick stack of assignments he was grading. “Don’t you think…maybe you’re overworking them? You’re definitely overworking yourself.” 

“I’m fine,” Rolan said a bit sharply, turning to the next student’s parchment. “I can certainly handle a little paperwork.” 

She pouted slightly at the back of his head, then leaned in to place a kiss under his ear. “That’s not what I meant.”

Rolan let out a short huff as he set down his quill. Feeling a bit smug with herself, she let his grip over her arm draw her around beside him, quite unsuspecting.

Before she could tense her relaxed muscles, Rolan’s grip jerked her down. One of her hands flew to grab the far edge of the wooden seat, but she still landed hard on his lap, her back thumping against his chest.

“After all our time together, I’d expect you to understand the duties of an archwizard,” Rolan scolded her. His voice reverberated against her back as he tucked her slightly to one of his legs so he could keep working. Then his fingers plucked up his quill, even as his other forearm wrapped tighter below her navel to keep her firmly planted. 

After a week starved from his attention, the humbling position made her face grow warm. "Rolan, I do understand. I just think y—"

“Good,” Rolan cut her off. “Then sit still and behave.” He was ordering her in the same tone she sometimes heard him use with his apprentices—as if she was nothing but another naughty pupil.

She bit her lip. That could work. Oh, could it ever. “All right.”

After that, they both sat in silence. The steady scratch of quill tip against parchment was the only sound drifting through the candlelight. She kept herself perched quietly on Rolan’s thighs, watching the neat movements of his writing hand, feeling the steady beat of his heart between her shoulder blades. Of all the positions she hoped to find herself in tonight, fully clothed and trapped on his lap wasn't one of them.

But she could certainly work with it. 

Carefully, as if just adjusting to a more comfortable position, she wiggled her hips up higher against his lap. She felt the muscle in Rolan’s forearm clench slightly over her, but he said nothing as he turned to another page.

Testing his patience, she scooted back toward him again. This time she pressed her palms against his thighs for balance, letting her hips bounce slightly down against him. The game was rapidly becoming unsubtle.

It wasn’t lost on her wizard. “That won't get you anything,” Rolan warned her.

But despite his words, she could already feel him stirring underneath her. Lovely heat coiled in her stomach in response. “Will from where I’m sitting,” she answered back saucily.

“Hmm.” His monotone hum reverberated against her back, but Rolan didn’t look up from the note he was scribbling. However disappointing his verbal responses, Rolan’s body gave him away the same way it always did. 

It only made her braver. She leaned forward on an elbow as if to read his work. In the same motion, she nudged her hips back to press herself more firmly against the growing hardness under his robes, dragging her center across his clothed thigh at the same time. She’d prefer to make use of the lovely ridges near his knee, but that would have to wait for another night.

“Take off your clothes.”

She blinked at him over her shoulder. “What?” Surely she had misheard—Rolan’s expression was impassive, eyes still on the pages scattered over his desk.

“Take off your clothes,” he calmly repeated, still not looking at her. “Now.”

If he was calling her bluff, he wouldn’t get the satisfaction. Slowly, she leaned back against his chest. She would go along with whatever game he wanted to play. 

She began with her bodice. Her fingers ran down the lacings, plucking them open like harp strings, feeling the heat already starting to pool between her thighs in anticipation. With her head leaned back over Rolan’s shoulder, she could feel the steady tickle of his breath down her collar and chest, though he was still steadfastly marking the parchment before him. 

Rolan was studiously ignoring her, even as she undressed. It was new, and it made something shy and uncertain coil in her chest. When they were together normally he liked to be the one removing her clothes. He practically insisted on it. 

But tonight he made no move, apparently content to let her take as much or as little time as she liked.

She favored the latter. With that thought in mind, she pressed herself forward to shuck the unlaced bodice back over her shoulders. Rolan’s arm over her loosened to allow her undershirt to follow. When both garments were discarded on the floor beside his chair, she leaned back against him, bare above the waist. She couldn’t help arching her chest up a little as Rolan’s loose hair tickled against her neck.

"Everything," Rolan directed her. His arm remained draped unmoving over her belly. He either didn't notice her body language or was choosing to ignore the invitation to grope her. 

It made her feel even needier for him. Perhaps that's why she wiggled out of her pants and smallclothes so eagerly, nearly tipping sideways off Rolan’s clothed lap in the process. His palm splayed up against her sternum to catch her, and the sharp nail of his thumb pressed into one of her breasts. A small gasp escaped her.

Rolan made a noise low in his throat, and when his hand raised from her chest toward her chin, she understood his intention with eagerness. 

She parted her lips to take two of his long, slender fingers into her mouth, licking and swirling her tongue to wet them completely. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked his digits in deeper over her tongue. Rolan needed reminding of what her mouth could do, and she was pleased to feel his length twitch under her in response. She hummed in satisfaction over his fingers.

Rolan pulled them from her mouth then, and she felt a string of saliva stretch and land across her chin. Before she could wipe it away, two slickened fingertips nudged at the hot apex of her thighs.

She let out a needy groan as her head tipped back over Rolan’s shoulder; her warm cheek pressed against his. She let her thighs fall open for him. But Rolan only continued to make soft and idle circles over her folds, dragging the wetness that was already pooling there up around her entrance, not quite hitting the aching spot above. Her hips rolled forward greedily toward his palm.

“I told you, sit still.” How could he possibly have the nerve to keep writing at a moment like this? She did her best to obey his command, but the way Rolan’s breath had quickened behind her made it difficult.

“Rolan…” His name left her in another groan, this time almost begging. She arched her back to curl an arm around behind him. Her fingers found the curve of one of his horns, and her grip tugged up and down the hard ridged length of it—wishing it was the hard ridged length nudging up against her backside.

In one movement, Rolan’s writing hand swept up the stack of papers from the desk in front of them and deposited them on the floor. 

His grip on her arms was rougher than she was used to as he jerked their connected bodies upright, but it was somehow exactly what she craved. She heard his chair clatter to the floor behind them—her hands flew to the now-empty desk for balance as she landed on her feet.

“I’m a very busy man, you know,” Rolan hissed into her ear; he kept her facing away with nails dimpling against the flesh of her hips. “I don't have time for these games.”

“Sorry,” she lied, breathless. “Let me make it up to you?” She reached eagerly back for him, wanting to pull him closer by his robes, before something drew her palms together behind her back.

Rolan’s tail coiled around her wrists in a makeshift binding. Its soft ridges rubbed over her skin, the sudden friction causing her to freeze in place.

"You can tell me to stop.” 

Rolan’s voice was suddenly low, and she glanced back over her shoulder to his face. His eyes burned molten gold, but she caught hesitation beneath and realized what he was looking for. She nodded her head yes.

Then the palm of Rolan’s hand settled between her shoulder blades, and steadily, he pushed down.

Her body bent at the waist over the hard surface, goosebumps tickling her skin where her bare chest met the cool wood. She shivered from the cold, and more so from the delicious uncertainty of whatever he was planning to do with her. The firm coil of Rolan’s tail trailed from her wrists across the bare skin of her back.

"Do you know how infuriating you can be?" Rolan's voice chided behind her, even as his hands on her ass massaged and spread her apart for him. "I have a great deal of work to do, yet you insist on interrupting."

"Why don't you give me something to shut me up, then?" She did her best to tease back, but she could only imagine the view Rolan had of her slick folds as his hands pulled to expose her. She ached for his fingers and mouth and cock—for any part of him to touch her again and provide release.

"Always so greedy for my attention," Rolan said, as if he could read her thoughts. "High time you learned a little discipline."

The warmth of one hand left her. Then, without warning, his palm reconnected with a stinging slap against her ass. The shock lurched her body forward, grinding the ache between her legs against the hard edge of his desk. A shameless mewl escaped her throat.

“Hush,” Rolan tutted softly from behind. “I run a reputable business here, you know. Unless you want everyone below to learn what a state you’re in?”

“Oh yes—” From her prone position, she still tried to crane her neck back at him. “I’m sure your patrons would love to know that the new mage of Ramazith’s Tower is a perverted little—”

His palm smacked against her a second and third time, once on either side, the lewd sounds echoing all around the cavernous room and causing her words to stutter into an incoherent moan. She just barely bit it back this time. 

“Good girl,” Rolan hummed in approval, and she couldn’t ignore the way her insides quivered from the praise. He smoothed both hands over the heated skin on her flanks as if rewarding her obedience. “Now spread for me.”

Incredible how four little words could make her throb and drip for him. It was vulgar and irresistible, and she obeyed wordlessly, shifting her bare feet further apart to expose herself more fully to him. The rush of cool air between her legs was almost too much to bear. 

There was the soft rustle of movement behind her—she could practically feel Rolan’s body heat moving closer. In the next moment the length underneath his robes pressed firmly in between her legs. 

She dug teeth into her lower lip to restrain another wanton groan. He was so hard already—was it all from this little game? Sweet hells, if only she'd tried his patience like this before. She couldn’t spare a thought to wonder, could only fixate on the anticipation of Rolan filling her. Her cunt throbbed against the fabric between them at the thought.

She heard Rolan inhale through his teeth. "So desperate even now. Gods, you're shameless." But his hands traveled up the arch of her back, his softly filed nails whispering against the skin under her bound arms from her ass to her shoulder blades, as if relishing the position he had her in.

Then his grip cupped down over each of her hip bones, and he ground her back against his hardness.

The gesture dragged the bare front of her against the cool wood surface, and a shuddering exhale fell from her lips. “Fuck, Rolan—”

“Is this not what you wanted?” Rolan asked her, calling down patience from gods knew where. “Tell me, then.”

"I want you to fuck me,” she gasped out, ready to be done with the teasing. The words formed a heated fog across the wood surface underneath her.

"Ask nicely, then." One of Rolan’s thumbs pulled at her flesh, no doubt giving himself another view of her wet slit, teasing her open again without touching her where she needed it most.

“Please—” Maybe she'd never been more desperate for him; or maybe she'd always known he would love it. "Master Rolan, please fuck me—"

Rolan's hands were gone from her in a flash, and she heard and felt them working on the laces of his pants.

She’d never been more ready for him. Shamefully eager, she craned her head as best she could from her bent and bound position to watch him reach through the slits in his robe to unfasten his pants. Then his beautiful red cock sprang free from the fabric, deliciously hard and lined with those angled, concentric ridges that she knew could make her see stars. Her mouth watered at the sight of him. 

She must look positively desperate for it, because Rolan was watching her face with a dark glint of approval in his eyes. As he did, one of his elegant hands closed around his cock and pumped lazily. She squirmed with impatience.

"Say it again." Rolan's dark-set eyes watched her with something like anticipation, his baritone husky with desire.

Her mind was so addled from the delicious sight of him stroking himself that it took a moment to grasp what he was requesting.

"You like that?" She asked suddenly, licking her lips. "When I call you Master?”

Rolan's hips bucked forward into his own grip, almost involuntary. Despite her position naked and prone on his desk, she felt a kind of power tip back into her hands.

“Because that's what you are, Rolan…” She looked back at him from under her lashes, wanting to see what the words might do to him. “Master of this tower, Master of the Weave—Master of me—”

Rolan's face was flushing burgundy, his eyes smoldering into her as if hanging on every word. His tail unwound from her wrists to shudder and flick behind him in a motion she’d grown to recognize as pure desire.

“Just look at what you do to me,” she breathed. Wetness leaked down her inner thighs as she spoke. “No one else fucks me like you. You're so good—so powerful—fuck, just please Rolan, I need you—”

With a guttural sound, Rolan pressed and sheathed himself in her completely.

The abrupt stretch between her legs made her cry out and clutch at the far edge of his desk. Rolan hadn't readied her with his fingers the way he usually did—very little about tonight was usual. His ridges were hot and tight against her walls, but the ache was exactly what she craved.

Before she had fully adjusted, Rolan pulled out from her almost completely, and then his hips snapped back into her a second and third time. The pressure almost made her sob in relief.

Rolan’s hands landed on either side of hers, sharp nails digging into the wood underneath them as his body pressed down over her. He was truly, finally fucking her; she felt the silk of his robes drag against her overheated skin with each thrust, and then the shift of his body hit a new angle inside her. 

His tip abruptly met with that deep and sensitive spot, pounding into the aching nerves there again and again. Her eyes rolled back with an unrestrained moan.

"Again," he panted, his face close behind her ear. The control in his voice was fading with each jerk of his hips.

Her skin was on fire; all she could concentrate on was the ridged length of him rapidly filling and stretching her, each quick thrust grinding and rocking her clit against the smooth wood under their bodies.

"Master Rolan, plea-se—" The last word was jerked in two by the force of him fucking her into his desk—"just like this, fuck, I’ve wanted this for weeks—you’re so—so fucking good—”

The words were babbling incoherently from her, but they seemed to be what he needed. Rolan let out a broken groan into the skin of her back as he twitched and spilled inside her. But he didn’t slow his rhythm. Instead his hands gripped either side of her hips, sharp nails digging into her skin, fucking his spend deep into her with driving force. 

It was possessive and raw and hot and the feeling made her own orgasm crash down around her, her walls spasming and clutching around him as if to keep him there. She felt the gush of heat from her center leaking out all around him and spilling down her legs.

Her arms and legs trembled weakly; she was grateful for the support of Rolan’s desk holding her up, hard and cold though it was. She gathered enough strength to glance back at him as he straightened and pulled out of her, just in time to catch Rolan admiring the way his come dripped from her opening.

“I love you,” she panted up at him. “That was…gods, Rolan.”

He looked just as dazed as she felt as he stood with hands still resting on her hips for balance. But Rolan said nothing in response, only drew one of her limp hands from the desk up to his lips. Then he shook his shoulders slightly as if to rouse his senses, tucking himself back into his pants.

Dipping a hand to the floor, Rolan thrust a bundle of her clothes unceremoniously toward her. “Clean yourself up. I have more work to do.” 

She would have laughed if she wasn’t so spent. He was being intentionally brusque; perhaps embarrassed by how far he’d let himself go. The lingering flush on his cheeks and the way his outstretched arm shook both undercut the attempt slightly. 

She straightened up on wobbling legs to pluck the clothes from him. Despite his rudeness, she felt satisfied with the knowledge that the heavy smell of sex and the image of her spread open for him on that very desk would make concentrating on his menial paperwork a near-impossible task.

Before he’d let go of her wrinkled garments, she pulled him by them into a quick kiss. “Come to bed soon,” she told him firmly. “Or else I’ll come back and carry you there.” 

Rolan exhaled through his nose, the bare hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Give me an hour.”

An unthinkable wait after the lay he’d just given her. But she made no complaints as she turned—it wouldn’t do to let him have too much power.

“Fine,” she called over her shoulder. She put a little sway in her hips as she sauntered toward the bedroom staircase, strongly suspecting that his eyes were following her. “But this time, Master Rolan, I’m getting you naked.”

#nsft #spicy #rolan x tav #tav x rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan bg3 #rolan #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 smut #bg3 fic #this one took me forever #rewrote it about 4 times #but omg i love this look for him

[sunflowerdigs]

Was thinking about why Tim decided to portray Buck's bisexual discovery the way that he did, but Oliver saying that it was meant to happen in s5 makes it all make more sense. In 7x04, Buck acts like an insane person, mostly because he's afraid Eddie's going to leave him. The last time we saw him do that was 4x14, when he climbed the ladder against Bobby's wishes.

But Eddie wasn't watching in 4x14. It doesn't matter. It's an anxiety response ingrained in Buck since he was a kid. As an emotionally neglected child, Buck learned that, when he felt scared or unloved, if he hurt himself badly enough, someone would notice the physical pain and come and soothe him. His parents spoiled him in that way - they never made him take responsibility for his bone-headed stunts because on some level they knew that it was their neglect that caused him to act out. But they couldn't stop neglecting him because being involved in his life was too painful. They couldn't love Buck like the child they'd lost that Buck was supposed to save. So, instead, they taught him that he was only lovable when he was hurt and that he could coerce love from others by hurting himself.

In both 4x14 and 7x04, Buck is afraid that he's going to lose Eddie. So, he acts out, waiting for someone to notice and feel sorry for him and tell him that everything is going to be ok. And in both instances, someone does - in 4x14, Taylor comes over and scolds him, then kisses him right before Eddie wakes up; in 7x04, Tommy comes over and apologizes for making Buck feel left out and kisses him as well. In both instances, both people react like Buck's parents did when he was a kid - they soothe him and ignore the bad behavior. And because Buck is starving for love and is crushing on both of them, he takes the comfort and rolls with it.

Eddie has also seen Buck react in this way - when he refused to get out of bed in 3x01 and when he said that he should have been shot in 4x14. But Eddie's reaction both time has been different - instead of feeling sorry for Buck and coddling him, he has given Buck responsibility for Christopher both times. And that's been (from 911's POV) the better response, I think, because it has empoweres Buck. Eddie saw Buck feeling small and worthless and he said "no, I believe you're strong and capable, and you're going to prove it by taking care of my son".

Imo, that's why Buck's actions in 7x04, though coming from that same panicked place as in 4x14, aren't death-defying. The will means that he can't just treat his life like it's worthless anymore. Unfortunately, he then escalates to hurting other people, but that's another meta for another day

#buddie #911 abc

[flowerprincesscherryblossom]

birthday present

pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Female Reader word count: 2252 warnings: fluff, smut, a lil angst, dom!kook, dirty talk, explicit language, vaginal sex, rough sex, vaginal fingering, nipple play, creampie, marking, big dick kook, established relationship AO3 A/N: Hope you like it and that you have a wonderful day wherever you are💜

Today was your boyfriend's birthday and you wanted to celebrate it the best way you can think of.

Considering he had the day off and it would take a while before the two of you met his bandmembers at a restaurant of their choice to celebrate.

In the days counting down to today, you debated, longer than you would like to admit, on what to give him - what can you give to a man that can literally buy anything he wanted when he wanted?

And he was no help at all. Okay, he said that he didn't need anything and that he just needed you by his side, and that was sweet and all but you really wanted to give him something special that nobody else could.

You woke up early and still had no idea what to give him.

You stared at Jungkook as he continued to sleep, his arms wrapped around your middle as soft snores escaped him.

You loved him. You really did, that was why not knowing what to gift him was taking such a toll on you.

You didn't say it as much as you thought you should - if you were being honest, you were probably as emotionally constipated as Yoongi - and sometimes you felt he deserved so much better than you.

He deserved someone who wasn't afraid to tell him how he made them feel loved in a world that had cruel. Someone who wasn't afraid to say 'I love you'.

Blinking away the tears that were starting to form, you carefully pulled his arms away from you and headed towards the kitchen, wanting to start breakfast and escape your thoughts.

But alas, it was proving to be more complicated than you wished for.

As you pulled the ingredients from the fridge and pantry; as you mixed everything in a bowl; as you poured the pancake batter in the frying pan; putting the finished product in a plate for him - no matter what you did your mind just kept screaming at that everything you did was useless, that you were worthless and just wasting his time, that he deserved better than anything you could give him.

Biting your bottom lip hard enough, trying for all the world not to cry but failing as the tears rolled freely down your face.

In your sobbing mess, you noticed that you had dropped some of the batter onto the floor and some of it had ended on your shirt… well, Jungkook's shirt.

You just kept screwing up didn't you? Why was he with you to begin with? You couldn't make breakfast without making a mess; You couldn't give him a birthday present; You couldn't say 'I love you'…

Maybe you should just leave. Grab as much of your stuff as you can and leave, go to some hotel or whatever you can afford, and stay there until Jungkook forgets about you… You're sure he can find someone that can give him everything you can't… He deserves so much better than anything you can ever give him…

You were so lost in your thoughts that you couldn't help but jump when you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist and pulling you towards a chest. He kissed on the top of your head before he started pressing kisses from your neck to your shoulder.

"Baby? What's wrong?" his voice was filled with sleep, had you woken him up with your crying? God, you just kept fucking up didn't you?

"N-Nothing," you said in a shaky voice, taking deep breaths to calm down. You didn't want him to know what was going on inside your head. "I was j-just making pancakes and accidentally dropped some."

He simply hummed, not really believing in you but knowing you didn't want to talk about it. The two of you had been together long enough for Jungkook to know when something was bothering you but you still had walls around you that you didn't want to let anyone in, even him, but he still tried to help and be understanding to the best of his abilities. "Looks delicious but I really just want to sleep some more."

Before you had a chance to counter back he threw you over his shoulder and started walking towards the bedroom, as you tried to wiggle yourself free.

Once inside he threw you onto the bed and climbed on top of you, crushing you with his weight to guarantee that you wouldn't escape.

With a defeated sigh you stopped struggling to get free and decided instead to run your fingers through your boyfriend's hair as he used your chest as a pillow. Both of two stood in complete silence, simply enjoying each other's company, you almost believed he had fallen asleep.

"You know, you can talk to about everything."

It wasn't a question but you still felt the need to answer. "I know…"

"Why don't you?"

"You already have enough things to worry about," you sighed, feeling tears starting to form once more. "I don't my baggage to be one of them."

You felt him starting to rub circles in your back as he snuggled closer between your breasts, making you let out giggles at his actions - no matter how old he was Jungkook would always have these moments where he acted like a baby. "I wish you'd talk to me. I hate seeing like this and not being able to do anything to help. I don't care about your baggage baby, I'll love you no matter what."

"I know Kookie and I love you too but I-I'm just so used to keeping everything to myself that it's hard suddenly share it and believing that your not bothering the other person with your problems." you said in one breath, not really aware of the words that had come out of your mouth, but Jungkook had which is why he was now staring at you with eyes blown wide. "What?" you tilted your head, confused as to why he was staring at you like that.

One of his hands traveled to the back of your head, pulling you closer and crashing your lips together, wasting no time in urging your mouth open with his tongue, dominating yours easily.

Separating for breath, he started trailing kisses against the juncture of your neck, nipping and sucking as you tipped your head back to give him better access. His hands under your shirt, fondling and pitching your nipples, moan after moan of his name falling from your lips as you felt yourself growing wetter at his ministrations.

"I thought you wanted more sleep." he ridded you of your shirt and panties, taking one of your mounds in his mouth while his right hand kept fondling the other, his left hand traveling towards your sopping center, rubbing your wetness around your slit.

He pulled away from you, making you whine at the loss of his hands and mouth, getting rid of his underwear, showing you his massive cock already fully harden and tip red as precum oozed from it - the thought of having his long dick down your throat, forcing you to take every last piece of him had you pressing your thighs together as you bit your lower lip.

His hand running up and down his length. "My girlfriend just told me she loves me and that awoke something in me." You blushed hard at his words. You hadn't even realized that you had finally told Jungkook that you loved him, too busy trying to form words that would make him understand your point of view and not feel guilty about it.

He gripped your chin, pulling you out of your thoughts. "Did my baby grow shy?"

"Just regretting the timing of those words."

"Don't worry," he kissed you, slowly and gently. "Once I'm done with you, you would've said it a hundred times better."

Once again you felt your cheeks growing red at his words, even at this point in the relationship it still never failed to surprise you how Jungkook could go from acting like a tiny baby who just wanted your attention and would pout if he didn't have it to daddy mode where he would bend you over and fuck you whatever way and as many times as he wanted while you took everything like the good little girl the both knew you where.

His now free hand was on your center, thumb rubbing circles on your clit and two fingers going in and out of you, bring you closer to the edge before he removed them once again, making you whine in desperation. "Kook-"

"That's not my name!" he gave a hard slap on your clit and inserted three fingers in you, your back arching as moans and groans left you. "Tell Daddy what you want baby, use your words or you'll get nothing."

On any other day, you'd probably try to fight him a bit more but today wasn't one of those days. "I-I w-wanna ride D-Daddy's cock, p-please."

With a smirk on his lips, he pulled away from you, tears falling down your face as you couldn't take any more of his teasing.

You felt his lips on yours as he kissed you in a slow and gentle manner, your lips molding against one another but never deepening it. Jungkook peppered kisses on every inch of your face before taking a seat beside you, back leaning against the headboard.

No words were needed as you immediately climbed on his lap, crashing your lips together in a heated kiss, devouring each other's lips as if it was a last meal, straddling him as you coated him in your juices.

Separating for breath, you reached to grip onto his cock, lining it to your entrance. Your eyes on him as you slowly descended on his massive length, knowing he loved to watch your reaction as you took him until he was fully inside of you.

The stretch was painful but full of pleasure as well, letting out a loud moan at how full you felt. His lips pressing butterfly kisses and nipping at your neck and collarbones as you adjusted to him stretching you.

Lifting yourself up and down, bouncing on him, your hands on his shoulders to help your movements as Jungkook's hands on your hips controlled the slow pace he wanted you to take. His name falling from your lips as you were being brought closer and closer to the edge.

"T-Tell me baby, who's the one making you feel this good?" Gripping tightly enough to leave bruises onto your hips, Jungkook thrusted into you, making you let out a gasp and grip his shoulders, leaving crescent marks on the skin.

"D-Daddy!"

Pistoning his hips into you, making it hard for you concentrate on anything other than the way he was making you feel as he repeatedly hit the spot that had seeing stars - loud moans and yells from you and that the sound of skin slapping was all that was heard around the both of you. "Who do you belong to?"

"Daddy!" His hands trailed up your body to your tits and pinched your sensitive nipples, your walls tightening around him as the tip of his cock repeatedly hit your cervix.

"Who do you love?"

That question almost pulls you out of the moment - almost - you were still shy about saying those words and felt some regret at the way you had said it but you so so close to reaching your high. "J-Jungkook" you said in a slow voice, hoping he would take pity on you.

But alas, that wasn't the case as you felt his tattooed hand collide with one of your cheeks, gripping tightly at the flesh of your ass, making you let out a yell at the sharp stinging sensation. "Louder!"

"Jungkook!"

"Again!" he slapped you once more before his fingers slid down and began to rub your clit. His thrusts growing sloppy as he continued to harshly fuck into you. "Let everyone hear you!"

"I love you Jungkook!" with that you release, cumming all over him, walls clenching around him.

"Love you too, my good girl." with a smirk Jungkook kept slamming into you, emphasizing every word with a hard thrust, riding your high into overstimulation.

With one final thrust, he spills into you, painting your walls white, having you moan at the feel of his warm release filling you to the brim.

He remained inside of you as both of you caught your breath, holding you tightly in his arms and spreading kisses all over your face, making you giggle at the attention.

"I love you baby" you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a slow kiss. "Happy birthday."

"I love you too," he pecked your lips, both of you smiling into the kiss. "I also loved my present."

Those words made a pout appear on your features as you let out a whine. "I wanted to give you something more impressive than birthday sex."

"I was talking about the fact that you said you loved me," you blushed hard, hiding your face in your hands - why was sex the first thing your brain jumped to? - Jungkook laughed at your actions before whispering in your ear, his voice an octave lower as you felt his cock twitching inside of you. "But if sex is the only thing on your mind then maybe we can go again and again until the day is over?"

#bts #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut

[diahire]

Anyways I wrote this post on my private blog but decided I'll share it with the whole fandom and add a few more thoughts to really throw salt about this down on the salt pile with the rest of the Villain fans. (This post isn't for the hero stans, I'm not here to argue with you guys, if you like the ending good for you! I wish that could be me!) I thought about it all night and tbh its literally the worst outcome for the entire manga imo? Because it doesn't feel like the resolution everyone was fighting for can be reached now, or as if Hori's gonna just gloss over it the same way and pretend its a happy ending. (Sorry if I sound like a hater, I sung his praises and trusted him so much so excuse me if my trust has been completely shattered with this) This post sums up a lot of my feelings on the last chapter Surrounding AFO and stuff like that, which was actually satisfying. But oh my lord, everything else is one of the most bitter let downs I've ever seen in any piece of media ever. I'd like to believe the fan theories that this isn't it for the LoV are true but tbh I refuse to be fooled by Hori again so at this point I'm actually fairly positive that the league is dead save for Mr Compress who, I guess, will just be spending the rest of his life ass-cheekless and in jail. (Unless we're meant to think Compress has been executed or is going to be. Who knows. Wouldn't be surprised at this point.)

Like I mentioned, I think the whole "Give Shigaraki back. His friends are waiting for him" thing was alluding to the fate of the League. It would explain why we haven't seen them again. Why Ochaco was the only one shown to be lifted into the helicopter to the hospital even though Himiko should have been right there with her. I made a post about it back then saying how worried I was that they didn't show or even mention Himiko at that point. Well, yeah, my fears of the worst I think were confirmed there. Like the reality here seems to be that Hori literally directly pulled a bury your gays on her. Like ?? I think its probably also safe to say Spinner is likely already dead. We've seen or heard nothing from him since he went down either. Due to Shigaraki's final words I want to think maybe he's not but at the same time I can't imagine him being the sole survivor. Unfortunately, this means Dabi is likely already dead as well. I'm low key taking a little bit of spiteful satisfaction in the fact that if Dabi has died his last words were telling his family to fuck off and honestly, good for him. Its like he said. This was all lip service and saving face and why did it have to go so far / take so long for anyone to even try? Why did he have to burn himself to death for his family to give him the bare minimum of acknowledgement? He spent his entire childhood literally crying and begging for it and being harshly rejected because the moment his dad found out he was disabled he pulled the rug out from under him and decided his existance was pointless. He spent the entire battle desperately trying to get his father to recognize him and talk to him and see that he wasn't a worthless son and could have done so much had he not done epic ableism to him (which, yeah we agreed this was correct within the narrative, omg!) and all Endeavor did was avoid him until he was backed into a corner and couldn't ignore / avoid him anymore, which is at large why Dabi was so badly injured in the first place. This isnt a W for the heroes or for Endeavor anymore. Once again our great hero drove his literal disabled abuse victim son to death in a desperate attempt to receive some type of validation from him. The easiest thing in the world for Endeavor to have ever give him and the one thing he really wanted was once again withheld from him until it was too late. A fucking "Sorry I didn't come to Sekoto Peak :(" isn't good enough anymore. Like I say this as someone who isn't even an Endeavor hater, the opposite, that just isn't good enough anymore. I mean, wow, Himiko and Shigaraki both essentially "sacrificed" themselves for the purity of people who actually didn't really care about them and actually just failed them one last time in the grand scheme of things so I just don't see how I'm suppose to really feel like its a satisfying outcome for them. We can't let our little centrist heroes get blood on their hands, what a crappy cliche way to end their stories. The tragic, outcast, well intentioned extremist lefty "villains" self destruct so the designated, privileged "good guys" don't need to feel any guilt or real consequences for their deaths or weight of the things they were trying to achieve. (Even though they are undeniably responsible!) Ugh, genuinely its so gut wrenching that all Shigaraki wanted in his last moments was for Spinner to know that he died trying. Like I'm sorry but they weren't "saved" as they should have been and as Hori had been suggesting to this entire time. I understand every one of them was shown to have achieved some morbid, tragic sense of peace before they died but I just hate that's all they got. Himiko and Shigaraki let themselves die ultimately because people said some nice words to them and did the bare minimum for them that no hero would ever do before. How far they had to go to get the bare minimum out of some fucking kids no less, not even actual licensed heroes, bruh like. Yeah, such a win for the heroes... /s.

I think a lot people miss the fact that the reason the LoV wanted to "destroy" the world was to create a better one, and this has a lot of tragic impact when characters like Spinner are canonly being murdered and mutilated in literal hate crimes to such an extent Spinner was unable to leave his house back in his home village without being attacked. But of course this is fine cause Shoji moved to the big city and is going to become a licensed hero one day so that'll def end all racism toward mutant presenting quirks, no flaws in that logic at all, why didn't Spinner just think of that himself. /s

I mean this is really just a salty rant because I know other people have articulated, I think, better than me, why this ending sucks ass, sends a crappy message, shits all over the whole narrative of Izuku and his friends becoming "The worlds greatest heroes" and overall feels to be out of the left field, and honestly is just a lazy and bitter cop-out with all the build up surrounding it and the fact that it absolutely DOESN'T tackle or resolve any of the social issues that the series has done nothing but make commentary on and that the LoV were all tragic victims to, which is why they took up the fight with the heroes in the first place. (Aka, government dogs, literally we've learned all of Hero society basically exists as a distraction and a shitty band aide for the oppression and demonization of people with quirks by governments who refused to actually adapt to the society of the supernatural and instead continued to systematically oppress people who were considered to fall outside of the social norm which is now more rigid than ever because society becoming supernatural should have REMOVED all said oppressive "norms" but instead it heightened them because people in power won't/wouldn't let go of what they considered "normal" no matter how outdated and defunct that "normal" was. ) Anyway, yeah, no the status quo has been upheld and the rebellious minorities who fought so hard to end their oppression have been killed and will surely be forgotten as little more than crazy terrorists. Huzza, the day is saved! /s

Idk man. I suppose we can hope that the UA kids put measures in place to try and correct hero society through taking on board the villains pain and their rightful and just complaints moving forward but IMO that feels unrealistic now because now they're dead. The war is won, history is written by the victors and it will be much more convenient to everyone WHO ARE STILL IN CHARGE (The UA kids are still kids who are still in school mind you, they have no real say or power in anything.) to just continue as normal as if we weren't given a clear idea that as long as hero society exists things will not improve for Meta-humans and their rights and the unfair prejudices against people and their quirks so... Yay.

But hehe funny super hero manga, yay the villains were defeated and the day was saved, the rain stopped, the sun is shining and the birds are singing! -powerpuff girls animated heart -

#bnha manga spoilers #bnha #mha #my hero academia #league of villains #shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki #dabi #himiko toga #touya todoroki #izuku midoriya #afo #Again I hope people saying there is a twist coming are right but man I doubt #catch me being cringe and having big feels about a manga on main