#it's that kind of selfish love where 'as long as you don't leave me first i don't care i'll stay by your side' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lynnlovesthestars · 2 months

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Could I request headcanons for Harleep, Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor with kind and patient gn s/o? This is quite self-indulgent of me because I have been told I'm too nice & so patient so I'm curious how they would react XD

first of all sorry for being so late, but my small brain has to process things multiple times to make sense, so i wrote this like... 5 times? So it takes me a while, but i hope that waiting was worth it.

Also i saw you sent a second ask to see if i recieved this one, so ill put dammon and rolan there cause this is starting to get a bit long:3<3 thank you so much for your patience!:3

Taglist: @sessils @spacebarbarianweird

Headcanon: BG3 men with kind and patient s/o. (pt. 1)

Zevlor:

Zevlor is emotionally a wreck already, he considers kindness a virtue and it definitely makes him swoon when he notices you put extra care in making sure he's treated with kindness. At the end of the day, he basically got bullied on all fronts when all he really wants is to prove himself worthy of the title he carried for so long.

Zevlor has a short temper too, and he appreciates so much your effort and patience in dealing with his outbursts, whether they are of rage- not towards you of course- or of sadness, you offer always a shoulder for him and he cherishes it so much.

He is lowkey jealous when he notices that your kindness is not mostly exclusive to him, he has learned that people can abuse one's patience and care, and 1. he doesn't want you to get hurt, 2. he wishes your kindness was maybe reserved to him. Call him selfish, but after being deprived of it for so long, he is hesitant to let go of it.

Astarion:

Initially he would be very wary, in his experience being nice always lead to him getting hurt, so why would he trust someone who's default reply is kindness? At the end of the day the last time someone was '''''kind''''' to him, he was turned in a vampire spawn, so he takes it extra slow, he has just regained control over himself, he won't blindly accept kindness. He's lowkey afraid you are just part of a bigger scheme that will bite him in the ass and leave him shackled and caged again.

Once he gets accustomed to your kindness and finally accepts it, he revels in the kindness you offer and your patience, especially the smallest gestures like opening a door for him. He will literally melt for it, he's already smitten, your kindness leaves him like mush in your hands.

Nevetheless every good side, comes with a negative one. He is dead afraid your kindness will bring you to get hurt. He often reminds you to be weary and keep all your kindness for people you trust (HIM), rather than going around and helping every lost soul that asks for help. He will fight you on this a few times- especially if you do get hurt or it is obvious you are about to- he will not bite his tongue and keep it for himself, and that's one of the moments when he's glad you are patient.

You understand where it comes from and you try your best to find a solution that would make both happy. Your patience of course doesn't stop there, he knows he's an handful: he carries an heavy trauma baggage and he has a feisty personality, yet you always show him you don't mind, that you are there for him and that he can take all the time of the universe to sort his problems out.

Wyll:

Wyll would find it so endearing, how you are ready to go to someone's aid, you stop on your tracks to support someone in need, and he would love seeing you being kind to everyone. It's probably one of the reasons why he falls in love with you. Unlike Astarion he encourages you to be kind to everyone, cause he considers it a virtue, he incourages you to be the best version of yourself, and he reminds you that if you do get hurt, he will be there to pick up the pieces.

As far as patience goes, he's grateful to the moon and back, he knows he is an handful, especially if he doesn't break his pact with Mizora and has to leave more times than ever. He makes sure once he's back though that he makes up for lost time, whether it is with gifts or by taking care of you.

Haarlep:

Harleep is so used to Raphael that honestly he's taken aback at first, living in the hells means that kindness is hard to come by and around Raphael? It's either a trick or a miracle, so he brushes it off, not repelled like Astarion would, but definitely not eager like Wyll either.. he would be probably the one that takes it as it is, just.. that. But when he gets used to it? He becomes unsufferable. So unsufferable that he goes around demanding Raphael to be treated with kindness and patience! He purrs whenever you are nice even the smallest, thanking you and praising you like a goddess. He even tries to be nice himself- to you only- and despite it has to be and effort, since he has never been exposed to much kindness, he does become a little more mindful, even asking before taking your form or just with small acts of services.

One time Rapahel makes sure to send a message to you through him. "Tav, Raphael asked you stop being nice to me, cause if i demand it from him as well, he's going to turn me into fertilizer", message delivered with a pout that begs exactly the opposite.

Harleep is another that is deeply afraid of your kindness. Let's be real, you can defend yourself as much as you want, but people tend to use people and your kindness is one of those characteristics evil people would pry on- he knows well since its literally part of what he does, and a facet of what Raphael does as well. He probably scolds you a lot for this reason, he does it in a sweet way- don't get me wrong- he sugarcoats the shit out of it, but he will let you know when you are about to get in peril or you are too careless with your kindness.

Gale:

Gale is touched by your kindness, already from the first days after meeting him.

You had helped him out of his blotched portal, you fed him artifacts, you didn't question his secrets or push him to reveal anything, and he doesn't give that for granted. Once he's closer to you, and he learns that you are unconditionally kind to everyone, he's scared.

He starts warning you to be a little less nice, to use your judgement before you blindly trust a stranger, but he doesn't push it past a warning. As much as he wants to protect you, he doesn't want to take away your chance to grow from your errors.

In matter of your patience he's so grateful, he spends days thanking you when he's still afflicted with the orb condition, he cooks as a form of apology or thanks depending what he did, he gets baths started for you, he's treating you as a queen/ king. He alread would do it, but with you? He's even more protective, he almost feels like he has to match your kindness and patience with as much attentions he can muster.

Halsin:

Halsin is a fair man you think he wishes everyone was kind, but he actually wants you to be fair, he wants you to be mindful of who you give kindness to, he wants you to be a reasonable judge rather than unconditionally nice cause it is the way of the nature as well. Nature is not only nurturing and lush, it's also the poisonous vipers and herbs.

Does he appreciate when you are kind? Absolutely, he thinks it's the best gift Silvanus has ever bestowed him, but it doesn't take away the fact that he wants you to be treated kindly as well, so the moment someone crosses the line and starts abusing your kindness or becomes rude, he's definitely stepping in to s h a m e the other person. "You are lucky you have met Tav, cause they are kind, but nature wouldn't be so understanding and patient" He says it with a rage you rarely see in his eyes.

He will do his best to remind you to surely practice kindness but also to be mindful who you help and who you are kind to, cause there's always rotten that can harm you, and lowkey if you get hurt he will invite you to take back what you gave.

Despite this Halsin considers kindness the bare minimum a person should be, and what stops him from encouraging you to be kinder, its just the knowledge that you might get hurt.

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the-modern-typewriter · 2 months

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ive been obsessed with your work and i honestly just can't get enough of them! Could i make a request please please please! Supervillain captures hero and tortures them for months until they suddenly get bored of them and ask villain to get rid of them. Villain doesn't know that it's hero he was ordered to kill by supervillain and when he enters the cell where hero was he becomes shocked by what he sees and can't get himself to kill hero. Please continue this however you like im so excited!!

The villain stopped in the doorway of the cell.

It would be wrong to say he stopped dead, given being dead was supposed to be a relatively peaceful thing after the horror of it all.

(The hero, surely, wished that they were dead.)

The villain's mouth worked, but no sound would come out at first. He felt like he'd been punched in the windpipe. In the stomach. In all the vulnerable, gasping places.

(The hero, surely, would find that laughable given the state of them. They would love to only have the air knocked out of them.)

They lay in a broken heap in one corner of the otherwise pristine cell - no chance of infection or disease ending their suffering early, oh no. They were a blot of colour against the white of it all. Bruises yellow and purple and green. Blood red. The glint of bone where no bone should be visible.

Perfectly clean, glossy hair. Intricate, shiny restraints untouched by the violence around them. No clothes.

"Have you come to kill me?" the hero asked.

Their voice was raw, raspy, whether from disuse or screaming he couldn't be sure. It was impossible to miss the most tentative note of hope in the hero's tone.

The villain swallowed. Hard. "Yes," he said. Then, "I've been ordered to. I -" He swore. "I didn't know you were here. I didn't - oh god. How long have you been here?"

He willed down the nausea. What right did he have to be nauseous?

It was impossible to miss the hope and, abruptly, equally impossible to fulfill his task.

He crossed the room in one swift movement, kneeling at the hero's side, flailing to pull off his jacket. To cover the hero with something soft and kind against the bitter chill of the dungeons.

"I'm going to get you out of here, okay? It's going to be alright."

He didn't want to bring a blade down on the hero's ruined flesh, he wanted to offer soothing creams and bandages. He didn't want to invite the hero to drink poison, when he could give painkillers. How could he destroy? All he wanted was to fix.

The hero's gaze finally moved over to him, with seemingly great effort. There was very little behind their eyes. Everything except desperation had been carved out, leaving them some hollowed thing with their innards dumped like garbage on the side.

The villain was reminded of Halloween pumpkins and husked-out dolls, rabid dogs too exhausted to do more than froth and whine.

"Please," the hero said. "Don't."

Once upon a time, the hero had never pleaded. At least not without a glint in their eyes, a mocking twist of their bright mouth, like pleading was a favour, an inside joke that they were both in on.

"You don't want to get out of here?" the villain demanded.

"I don't want to wake up here again tomorrow."

"I won't let that happen."

"Like you didn't let this happen?"

The villain flinched. There was nothing he could say to that, was there? He could beg forgiveness, but the hero didn't even say it like accusation. It was just a matter of fact. Resigned.

"Finish it." The hero closed their eyes, apparently done with the conversation. "If you ever cared about me. Just...just finish it. You need to finish it. Please."

The villain pulled a knife obligingly from one of his many sheathes. He'd seen a lot of dead bodies. His hand wavered, utterly unable to imagine the hero as one of them.

"No," the villain said. His shoulders squared. "No. You're right, I let you down. God, I let you down. But I - I'm going to fix it. I'm going to fix this."

Maybe it was selfish. He'd never claimed to be an altruistic man.

He stepped out of the dungeons some twenty minutes later, gently cradling the hero's body in his arms.

He stopped a second time.

The supervillain lounged against the stairs leading up, eyes glittering, a delighted grin upon their face.

The villain's mouth dried. He glanced down at the hero, who tensed, but did not seem surprised.

They seemed...guilty.

The villain's stomach plunged icy.

"Oh, you failed," the supervillain crooned. They pushed to their feet. "I really wasn't sure which way it would go. We had to have a little bet."

"You-"

The supervillain attacked with monstrous swiftness. Both hero and villain cried out as they hit the floor; the sounds impossible to distinguish from each other. Everything rang sickening with pain.

The supervillain caught hold of the villain's hair, yanking their head back. In an instant, the villain felt their powers sweep over his body, locking every joint and muscle in place. Rigid. Rigor-mortis.

"Good job," the supervillain said, to the hero, in the tone of one promising a lollypop to a toddler. "As promised, you can go now. Crawl away if you can. The front gate locks in one hour! You know what happens if you don't make it."

The hero choked on a sob.

The villain and the supervillain both watched them, agonisingly, try to move. They managed a mere inch. Dragging themselves, with bloodied-nails, across the polished floor.

Then the supervillain turned their attention, dismissively, back to the villain. They tightened their grip, dragging the villain's body back towards the cell, the way they'd come.

"Ah well," they shrugged. "That's a them problem."

"No." It came out a wheeze, barely audible through the villain's frozen lips. "[Hero], please, what-"

"This," the supervillain declared, throwing him down where the hero had been. "Is going to be so much fun. Traitor."

#heroes and villains #angst #tw: violence #villains and heroes #I considered going sweet and then...well #villains #dark fiction #writing #darkfic #writing snippet

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bruhstories · 2 years

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blind

summary: after four years of being ignored and abused, y/n decides to teach aegon a lesson OR how aegon actually becomes king

pairing: aegon targaryen x lannister!reader (aged up, ofc)

warning & content: canon divergent, aegon is a piece of shit, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), bit of degradation (if you squint), a lot of manipulation, fem bodied reader

wc: ~4.5k

a/n: i have no words for this. i am a slut and i embrace it. not edited because we die like men

Every time Aegon took another of Y/N's maids to bed, a part of the her heart crumbled to dust. He was simply not interested in her, despite once being good friends. And it wasn't as if she could play the same game, no. Y/N had to patiently wait for her husband to drunkenly stumble back into his chamber, falling onto the bed into a deep slumber until his mother would wake him up with a slap and a string of insults.

Y/N could not possibly fool around with other men without the realm finding out. She could not run away to Essos, nor could she change Aegon. He was far too irredeemable.

Alicent, however, was great with her. She made sure to treat Y/N with respect, to listen to her complaints. No matter how loving and caring Y/N tried to be, Aegon did not want her, which was a problem, because she hadn't given him an heir in four years. After their wedding, Aegon was too intoxicated to perform in bed, barely taking her maidenhead before passing out, leaving Y/N awake and distraught at what her life had become.

Whenever her husband was away, she would spend her time either reading in the Red Keep's library, or listening to Helaena's strange, yet intriguing dreams, or stroll through the gardens. Y/N liked Helaena. She was soft and sweet, and loved by everyone in King's Landing, despite her awkwardness and timidity. Y/N tried to be like her, to be kind and gentle, but her Lannister nature unfortunately made her vain and selfish, and it was taking a lot of willpower to mask it.

So, she decided to be exactly that — vain and selfish.

On Aegon's twentieth name day, a tourney was held, with knights from all around Westeros entertaining King Viserys' first-born son. Although Aegon himself wasn't much of a fighter, he enjoyed watching the men compete, and eventually fight each other to the death. And if the wine in his cup was sweet, and the maidens pretty, he could not ask for more.

"Where is your lady wife?" Otto scoffed at Aegon's disinterest in Y/N and interest in the wine he had accidentally spilled.

"How should I know? Shit, this was good wine!" The Targaryen smacked his lips in annoyance, only to feel his grandfather's hand tightly around his shoulder.

"Don't make me slap you in front of everyone, boy. You should be grateful Y/N married you. Who else would want a miserable, pathetic excuse of a man such as yourself?" Otto's words were harsh and they cut deep, but Aegon stopped caring a long time ago.

"You find her, then. In fact, I am thrilled she didn't come. She would embarrass me, sitting down, looking like a septa." The Targaryen scoffed, releasing his shoulder from Otto's grip, focusing on his tourney.

Alicent watched the scene between her father and her son unfold, and after exchanging looks with Otto, she knew exactly what was going on. Nothing she could do would change Aegon. She got up, straightening her green dress, and as she turned on her heels, she was faced with Y/N.

"My lady." She bowed in front of her mother-in-law. "My apologies for being late. I couldn't find something appropriate to wear for such an important day."

"Nonsense, you are beautiful wearing anything." Alicent complimented her.

"As are you." Y/N smiled before making her way to the empty seat next to Aegon.

She offered him no words, no curtsy, no smiles, instead giving her favour to Ser Criston Cole. It was then when Aegon noticed the corset around her waist was tight, and her dress was red and gold, the colours of her house. For a moment he thought he maybe drank too much, for he rarely saw Y/N wearing something so bright and bold, and when she sat down, he could see how low the cut of her cleavage was.

"How long have you been hiding those tits from me?" Aegon whispered in her ear, his breath reeking of wine.

"They were always there, you just did not bother to look, lord husband." Y/N beamed and waved at Ser Criston, but her voice lacked the warmth of her smile.

He leaned back in his chair, rolling his eyes at her response. Only because she had decided to wear a tighter dress did not mean she was good enough for someone like him. Not that the servants or the whores he slept with were, but they were easy. They would never say no, they would not complain, and they would most certainly not talk back in such a disrespectful manner.

Indeed, it was Aegon's fault for not paying his wife more attention. To give her credit, she tried her best to show him affection, to care for him when he was too drunk to even stand, and to even defend him in front of his family. But Aegon never took the time to appreciate all of that because, like his grandfather put it, he was a pathetic excuse of a man.

When the tourney ended and he stumbled into his chamber, Aegon couldn't find his wife. Normally she would be there, waiting for him, helping him undress, despite him calling her all sorts of names in his drunken state. But that night, she wasn't there. His mind went blamk and he fell asleep, half-dressed, with stains of wine all over his chin, and his hair a knotted mess.

And when he woke up, she still wasn't there.

Aegon's head was hurting, regretting the decision of drinking so much the other day, and he lazily and clumsily managed to get dressed in clean clothes. When he looked in the mirror, he was disgusted by his own reflection for the first time in four years. Every night, every single night since he had been married, Y/N washed him and brushed his hair before bed, and without her he looked like an imbecile. Perhaps his grandfather was right — who else would willingly marry him when he couldn't even dress himself?

The Red Keep was particularly cold that morning —or perhaps it was him who was cold — and Aegon made his way down the stairs towards the kitchens, only to be stopped by the sound of laughter. He turned on his heels, taking a left instead of a right, and followed the melodious voice that seemed vaguely familiar. The Targaryen found himself in front of the dining hall, and the guards stepped beside the doors to allow Aegon to enter. Confused, he stared at the people gathered around the table — his siblings, his mother, his grandfather, and his wife.

"Finally!" Alicent waved at the maids to bring more food and mead.

"Uh, what is happening?" His ears were ringing, his temples burning. Aegon sat down next to his wife, and again, she was not dressed in her usual garments, but a pale green dress, with golden earrings and rings. She rarely wore rings, he thought.

"Your lady wife had the beautiful idea of breaking fast together this morning." Otto poked the sausage on his plate with a silver fork.

"Has she now? And where was my lady wife last night?" Aegon's eyes darted towards Y/N, watching her gingerly cut a piece of meat.

"In my chambers." She simply answered before chewing her food.

"Since when do you sleep in your fucking chambers?"

"Aegon!" Alicent slammed her cutlery on the table.

"Since last night." Came her response, bored and indifferent.

"To see, you must close your eyes." Helaena whispered. "To win, you must lose."

"Aemond, tell your wife to stop talking in riddles. My head is aching." Aegon devoured a piece of bread, helping it slide down with mead.

"Or, you could go back to your chambers." Aemond suggested, holding his Helaena's hand in his.

Aegon shrugged, already tired of everyone around him. He silently ate his food, considering his brother's idea of going back to bed, until his eyes landed on one of the maids, and her figure. He closed his eyes, imagining what she looked like under the dress, but all he could see was the silhouette of his wife. The Targaryen shook his head — clearly he had drank too much at the tourney, and the mead did not help.

"Y/N, thank you for the wonderful idea of eating together." Alicent got up. "If you will excuse me, I shall go see the King. But we must do this more often!"

"And next time tell me so I don't come." Aegon snorted, proud of his harsh words. He watched his wife get up, and instinctively, he wanted to ask her where she was going, however he resorted to sneering at her.

"Why do you think I haven't told you this time?" Y/N smiled before excusing herself, and even Aemond chuckled at how she barked back at her husband.

Aegon waited for the doors to close behind his wife before slamming his fist onto the table, startling Helaena. Not even the gods could understand how much hatred he held for her.

"What is her problem?" He asked, expecting his grandfather and his brother to side with him.

"You are her problem, you buffoon." Aemond got up, offering his hand to his wife. "Come."

Aegon watched how his sister looked at Aemond with so much love in her eyes, and how his brother gently held Helaena's hand every time they were together, despite how aloof Aemond normally was. Was that what Y/N wanted? To have him hold her in his arms? To whisper sweet nothings in her ear? How could he do that when now she stopped sharing his chamber? Of course it was her own fault for the treatment she received.

Weeks went by after the tourney, days spent drowning in wine and ale, but something changed — Aegon's cock wasn't buried in some whore's cunt. He tried. By the gods, he went to brothels as often as he could, but the women there just did not appease him anymore. If he closed his eyes, he would see his wife, and if he held them open, he would think of his wife.

Aegon hadn't seen her in days, and when he did, she would be busy — sewing, reading, sleeping, riding horses, taking baths, anything to keep him at away. He finally understood what it meant to be wed to a Lannister, because every time he would ask Y/N what she wanted from him, she would reply with incredulous requests — the finest Myrish laces, the sweetest wine from Pentos, the greenest emeralds from Lys. Aegon truly believed her, and complied, only to find out Y/N requested such gifts to spite him, to give him a taste of his own medicine — because if she wasn't good enough for him, then he wasn't going to be good enough for her.

It drove him mad that she wasn't there to take care of him anymore, that he had to rely on maids who did not know what he needed. Y/N knew exactly which clothes to pick for him, how hot he liked his bathwater, which foods he ate after drinking too much. Without her, he was incomplete and incompetent.

Was that what Helaena meant when she said to win, he must lose? Had he lost his wife? Aegon did not truly know happiness, not since his mother and grandfather filled his head with ideas that he was a threat to Princess Rhaenyra, that he should've been named Viserys' heir to the throne. He did not want the crown, he had no desire to be king, and perhaps he would've loved his wife if there wasn't so much pressure and weight on his shoulders.

There were moments when Aegon wished he could trade places with Aemond. His younger brother was by far better suited to rule, but he had the misfortune of being born first. If only he was the second son, things would've been different.

Aegon was sat on his bed, toying with the blade of his sword. He didn't deserve Blackfyre, didn't deserve to be named after Aegon the Conqueror, and he didn't deserve his wife.

His wife.

Lately she was all he would be thinking about. How she scrunched her nose whenever she saw him, and roll her eyes when he said something ridiculously stupid, how beautiful she looked on his name day, and how she would tuck her hair behind her ear when reading under the weirwood tree.

It took him four years to realise this, but Aegon was undoubtedly and irrevocably in love with his wife.

The Prince jumped out of his bed, opened the tall, wooden doors of his chamber, and ordered his servants to fetch his wife. He needed to see her to confirm his feelings, and while he waited, he paced up and down his room, like a pup, eager to see its master.

When the door creaked, his heart jumped out of his chest, watching his wife walk inside. She had a stern look on her face, but she was beautiful nonetheless.

"You wished to see me, lord husband?" Y/N straightened her silk robe.

"Do you love me?" His question was as sharp as his blade, and it cut right through her facade.

"I am wed to you." She answered, avoiding a clear yes or no.

"A political marriage, we both know that. What I am asking is if you love me or not." Aegon closed the gap between them, his hands holding her by the shoulders.

"I..." Y/N trailed off, eyes avoiding his gaze. "Used to."

He let her go, his hands falling down to his sides. Not the answer he was hoping for, but she wasn't done talking.

"I've known you since we were children, Aegon. I married you out of love, not politics." She bit into her lower lip, bringing her arms across her chest.

"Then what changed?" His tone was desperate.

"You cannot be serious. What changed? You mistreated me, disrespected me, insulted me! I did not stand by your side for four years out of duty, husband, but because I hoped and prayed you would change!" Y/N shook her head. "I washed you, dressed you, fed you, yet you never once said thank you. I am not your servant, Aegon, I am your wife."

"You are right." He agreed, his head hanging low and humble. "You are right, you are my wife. I cannot change the past, Y/N, so tell me what I can do to fix this."

She pondered with her index finger pressed on her lips before lifting Aegon's chin up.

"Make me your queen."

Her voice was as sweet as honey, her fingers ghosting over his collarbone.

"I don't want to be king." Aegon was tired of repeating that sentence so many times.

"But you want to be loved. Not just by me, but by the people." The words were seductive, and so was his wife. With each sentence, she slid the robe past her shoulders. "You want them to chant your name. You want them to bow down to you." She kissed his hand. "You want them to swear loyalty to you, my king."

"Careful, your words mean treason." His fingers trailed down her arm, gripping her wrist and bringing her hand to his bulge, urging her to palm his cock.

"Will you have me imprisoned? Bound and gagged?" Y/N licked her lips, the idea exciting her. "I am loyal to no one but you."

"Shit." Aegon threw his head back, enjoying the way she touched him. Not even the whores could be so enchanting. Clearly, he had been a fool all these years. "You really want me to be king? Or are you following your own ambitions?"

"A little bit of both." She allowed her nightgown to pool at her feet, exposing herself to her husband. "Right now, however, I want you to fuck me, Aegon."

"You really are something else." A smirk crept on his lips, his fingers pinching her nipples. The whimper that escape her lips made a shiver run down Aegon's spine, only arousing him more.

Whores pushed their luck and maids were terrified of him, but Y/N was exquisite. He allowed her to be in control when she dragged him towards the bed, pushing him onto the soft sheets. Aegon hastily removed his clothes, but not before burying his face between her tits.

"Fuck, Aegon-" Her breath hitched when his hand snaked between her thighs, fingers slipping past her folds.

"So wet." He mumbled into her skin. "You want my cock?"

"Gods, yes!" She whined when he removed his fingers.

"Show me, then. Show me how much you want it, how much you want me."

Y/N fell down her knees, her tongue poking out her hungry mouth. She had heard Aegon talk in his sleep about how he wanted his cock sucked, and she couldn't deny her own morbid curiosity. Hesitant yet inquisitive, she dragged her tongue up his shaft, tasting the salty droplets of leaking precum.

"Don't be shy." He groaned whenever he felt her hot lips on his cock. "Suck."

She did not need to be told twice, eagerly opening her mouth and taking in as much as she could. Aegon was big. Not that she had seen many cocks before, but she couldn't imagine they were all so thick, and she struggled to breathe when she could feel the tip in the back of her throat. The sudden feeling of asphyxiation brought tears to her eyes, but in a sick twist, it also brought her pleasure.

"You want to be a queen but you're really just a whore." Aegon's words were perverse, and they should have made her feel disgusted, yet they had the opposite effect on her. The kind of effect that left her skin dotted with goosebumps, and her cunt aching.

Y/N couldn't answer back, not when her mouth was full of him — and she did not want to answer, anyway. It took Aegon four years to finally see her sacrifices to, and her love for him. She couldn't possibly spoil that moment. It did not help that the more she sucked, the more she enjoyed it, and Aegon knew that very well from the way she moaned and rolled her eyes back.

That was just a taste of what she could give him, and a part of Aegon regretted not having that conversation earlier in his marriage, had he known it would end with his cock down his wife's throat. Y/N pulled back in desperate need for air, wondering if this is what her husband was doing on the Street of Silk every night he was away, but she did not have enough time to give herself an answer.

"Come here." Aegon offered Y/N his hand, and reluctantly, she took it, helping herself stand. Never has he been so gentle to her, but his kindness soon came to an end when the Prince slammed his wife onto his bed. Her reaction wasn't to scream, or protest, but to pull Aegon closer to her, his body hovering over hers.

"My lord husband," She whispered, her lips ghosting over his, "I know you do not wish this responsibility, but the burden is not just yours to bear. You did not marry me as your equal, but I equally and willingly share your duty. You are not alone."

"I know." Aegon's hand found its way between her legs again, his thumb rubbing circles against her sensitive bud. He never took pleasure in pleasing women, but something snapped inside the Prince. His wife was not just any woman, but his future queen. "I know, and I was blinded by my own thoughts. But not anymore." He kissed her neck, dragging his tongue down her skin, between her tits.

"Aegon..." She mewled, fingers raking through his silver locks. "Aegon, please..."

"What is it, my queen?" He sneered against her skin, unwilling to give her what she desired just yet.

"Don't make me beg." Her back arched when she felt two of his fingers slip past her folds yet again. "I already t-told you what I want."

"Say it again." The Prince demanded, and whatever Aegon wants, he gets.

"Shit-" Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, praying to the Seven Gods that the guards couldn't hear the wicked words that would come out of her and Aegon's mouths. "Want you, m-my king! N-need you... I've always needed y-you!" Her voice went up an octave, cracking and breaking like the most fragile stained glass in all of Westeros.

"Fuck." Aegon whispered, his hot breath tickling her skin. "Do you really love me?"

"I do! I do, I do, I do!" She cried out the more his fingers toyed with her needy cunt. He removed them when he felt her spongy walls tighten, and when she gasped, Aegon did the unthinkable. "Taste yourself then, if you love me." His fingertips smeared her slick all over her lips, and without hesitation, she sucked his fingers clean.

Her eagerness to please left the Prince in awe, because never has a woman so willingly allow herself to be degraded by him. All the humiliation he instilled in maids was by force, and whores did unspeakable acts for a coin. He would know that all too well. Y/N looked up at Aegon with doe eyes, seemingly innocent, but the way she squeezed her thighs together for much needed friction betrayed her.

"Do not worry, my lady wife." He cooed at her, his soft voice in complete contrast to the predatory gaze in his eyes. "I am a merciful king, I shall grant you what you so desperately desire." Aegon's much broader frame hovered over hers. "Open."

Y/N complied hastily, obediently spreading her legs for her king, lacking any shred of dignity. She had been shy on her wedding night, pulling the bed sheets over her body trying to cover herself, but not anymore. Aegon pushed his cock between her folds painstakingly slowly, as if to test the waters. Although he took her maidenhead four years ago, he hadn't laid with her since. And it did hurt, for a short while — the pain turned into discomfort, and discomfort into pleasure.

"Harder, faster! Please!" She squirmed under him, hands roaming all over his back and arms, fingernails digging into his skin. Aegon wasn't the kind of man who took orders from others, everyone in the realm knew that, but he gladly took that order, thrusting into her with ferocity and anger. Anger, because he had been so blind for so long.

"Whore." He mumbled, still trying to blame his wife for his own demons. His silver locks fell over his face, and she pushed them out of the way to gaze into his violet eyes. "My whore." Aegon kissed her, teeth sinking into her lower lip. "Say it. Say you're mine."

"Oh, gods!" Y/N arched her back before wrapping her legs around his waist. "I'm yours, Aegon! Your whore, your wife, your queen!" She pulled him closer, until she could feel his chest pressing onto hers.

His frantic thrusts became quicker, harsher, until all his vision blurred from the bliss. She was close, he knew that from the way her walls clenched around his cock and how she gripped the white sheets, chanting his name like a prayer. His grunts were louder, and so were her moans, until the room fell silent, his seed filling her up. They stayed like that for some time, his heavy body collapsed onto hers, the silence interrupted only by his chuckles.

"What?" She was intrigued by his juvenile laughter, her fingers twirling his hair.

"Nothing." Aegon kissed her chin, burying his nose in the crook of her neck.

"Must I ignore you for a moon before you talk to me?" A smile crept on her lips.

"Heavens, no!" His body tensed under her touch as he propped himself on his elbow to look at her, his other hand resting on the plush of her hips. "I was just thinking about how bitter the wine tasted when you weren't there for me. So bitter I could not bring myself to drink it today."

"Aegon..." Y/N sighed, almost feeling sorry for her husband, however, he deserved it. He deserved to feel what she had felt, to understand how dark and sorrowful her days had been.

"I will be king, and all of Westeros will bend the knee to me, to us." He laid his head on her chest, the sound of her beating heart loud against his ear. "Just... love me." Aegon's embrace was needy, searching for her approval, her acceptance, as he fell asleep. He couldn't see the lack of emotion on her face, the indifference in her eyes when she professed her love to him right before his eyes closed, chest rising and falling.

She knew all too well Aegon was still Aegon, and that he would perhaps still fuck up every once in a while, infuriating his mother and grandfather, even after taking the crown. But all of that did not matter.

There was a reason she agreed to wed him, and it was not love. It never has been.

"The Lannisters send their regards."

#aegon targaryen #king aegon #aegon the second #aegon the usurper #prince aegon #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x y/n #aegon targaryen smut #house of the dragon #house of the dragon spoilers #hotd #hotd smut #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon smut #game of thrones #got smut #got fanfic

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zehiiro · 9 days

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What Daryl and Carol mean to each other

And why France may have been the best thing for Caryl

This idea has been sitting in my drafts for about six months, but now that we're only 9 days away from the Tribeca premiere, I finally decided to flesh it out and post it.

This post can be taken as part two of my previous one on what Carol means to Daryl [here], but it can also be read independently. And just as a disclaimer, this is just my understanding and opinions on Caryl and all the scenes I mention below. So grab a nice cup of your choice beverage and get comfy 'cause I had a lot to say, and this turned out to be a long one.

I want to start by pointing out some moments where Daryl and Carol got to enjoy each other's company and talk in peace.

Yup, that's all of them... a long list of 4...

I didn't realise how rare these moments were until I started looking through season after season. Don't get me wrong; I know there are countless sweet and meaningful moments that they've shared both on screen and off screen (implied), but very few that we've seen without heartbreak, grief, or danger looming over them. And even the moments in the gifs above were still sandwiched between disasters.

I've read and received many questions, such as, "Why have we had to wait all these years and are having to continue to wait for Caryl to be canon?" and "If it was going to happen, it would have happened by now." and I feel like the above gifs answer all of that.

These two have endured unimaginable pain before and after the outbreak, and throughout it all, they have been each other's light, held each other together, helped each other heal from their past, and become the strongest versions of themselves.

However, they have never been allowed to be selfish, to take a moment to think about what they deserve, or to imagine the possibility of accepting the love they want and need; why? Because they have been so busy protecting and making sacrifices for everyone else.

For the past 13 years, they have been content as long as they have each other in their lives, accepting their current circumstances as long as the other seems happy. But during all that time, they also connected in more ways than they had realised.

The major connection I wanted to point out is that their lives depend on one another now (mutually inclusive). Whether knowingly or unknowingly, they are alive at this moment because of each other. I don't mean this just in a 'save their life when they're in danger' way but also as a 'I can't imagine my life existing beyond yours' and 'I can't distinguish between my life and yours' kind of way.

I briefly touched on this in one of my previous posts about Carol [here], and the show, in general, has been a lot more open with us regarding what Carol wants, but here are a couple of more nuanced instances from the later seasons where we see those feelings show from Daryl and Carol's perspectives:

~~~~~~~~

S10 EP3 Ghosts (Daryl)

The first scene I wanted to mentions is when Alpha confronts them about crossing her border. The moment she says, "You have to be punished," and the whisperers reach for their weapons, we see Daryl shifting on his feet as he prepares to move at a moment's notice.

And as soon as Carol talks back to Alpha, calling her words "Bullshit", Daryl is already moving.

He immediately places himself between them to shield Carol in case Alpha decides to attack her.

Then, when Carol snaps and tries to shoot Alpha, Daryl grabs and takes complete hold of her.

He's not just trying to stop her; he's using himself to shield every inch of her from any possible incoming assault from the whisperers.

Once Alpha allows them to leave, he grabs Carol and her bow and arrows without a second of hesitation (leaving behind his own crossbow) and immediately moves Carol away from the situation.

Once again, when everyone is in danger all Daryl can think about is Carol, making sure she's safe and unharmed, with no concern for himself.

I also think it's so beautiful and important to point out here that while all Daryl could think about was shielding Carol, Michonne was also there trying to protect both of them ♡

~~~~~~~~

S10 EP3 Ghosts (Daryl) - Part 2

The second one I want to mention is later in the same episode when Daryl and Michonne rush Carol back to Alexandria/Siddiq for help after she cuts her arm open badly.

We first find Daryl holding onto a column outside to steady himself while he waits to find out if she's okay.

When Siddiq comes out full of hesitation and can't find the words to answer Michone when she asks if Carol is okay, we see a look of pure fear on Daryl's face.

He freezes; he's holding his breath and won't dare move or say anything because he feels like his whole reality is hanging by a thread, and in the moment, the smallest thing or whatever Siddiq is about to say next might make it all fall apart.

~~~~~~~~

S10 EP9 Squeeze (Daryl)

The third moment I wanted to mention is when Carol is hanging off the edge of a rock in the cave, risking her life just so she can try to destroy part of Alpha's horde, but Daryl finds her and is so confused and terrified by what she's doing.

He tries to tell her, to warn her that she's gonna get herself killed if she tries to go through with what she's planning.

Look at how he flinches and instantly loses his breath when her hand slips a little... breaks my heart every time.

When she responds to him by saying, "She killed my boy", Daryl's fear is now also combined with desperation because he realised that he didn't need to warn her about the possibility of getting herself killed; he realised she knew the risk all along and was in such a low place that she was almost welcoming the consequences.

What previously was a tone of alarm in Daryl's voice turns into a whisper, and he's now pleading with her. Without saying the actual words, he's begging her to choose to live again, even if it's just for him.

~~~~~~~~

S10 EP14 Look at the Flowers (Carol)

What Caryl wants is also kind of answered in 10x14, where Carol is having an internal confrontation with herself. Subconsciously, she has chosen and manifested Alpha (who is now dead) as the face and voice of the one confronting her.

Timestamp 19:10 - 20:15

When "Alpha" says to her:

"Being out on your own... you've tried it before. They always pull you back. Always wanting more. Love. Motherhood. Death. But they don't know what you truly want. Admit it. What do you want? Say it..."

Carol responded by saying :

"I want to be alone."

To which "Alpha" says:

"Yeah. That's not it."

So the question here is, if it's not love in general, motherhood, death, or being left alone, then what does Carol actually want?

It's important here to note that Carol already knows the answer to that question. She's only asking herself this question because she hasn't accepted it; she isn't being honest with herself yet.

Timestamp 33:15 - 35:20

While Carol is stuck under the rubble and can't get out as the walker is getting closer to her, "Alpha" taunts her by saying:

"Stop fighting. No matter what you do, you lose people. Sophia, Lizzie, Mika, Henry, Ezekiel... And if you go back, Daryl could be next."

To which Carol responds:

"I could never let that happen."

This internal confrontation with herself and the realization that even when everything else in her world is dark, just having Daryl and making sure he's okay is worth living for and fighting for and that it's not too late for her to start over. The acceptance that that's who/what she truly wants gives her the strength at that moment to fight again, dislocating her shoulder to get free and killing the walker that was about to reach her.

~~~~~~~~

S10 EP16 A Certain Doom (Daryl)

Looking back at 10x01 for a second, Carol asks Daryl to run away with her, but he says no and explains that life in tiny boat cabins is not for him. Then Carol presents the idea of running away on his bike instead, and he's much more enticed by his idea; however, by the end of the episode, they both agree that they can't because they still feel responsible for the people around them and making sure that they're safe against the threat from Alpha.

Back to 10x16, after Carol went to lead the horde off the cliff, Daryl would have almost been expecting and terrified that she wouldn't come back, that she'd take this "out" and end her own pain in a permanent and self-sacrificial way like she's tried before, but this time, he wouldn't be there to beg her to come back to him and to save her.

Once again, we find him leaning and steadying himself against a tree, preparing for the worst possible news or, as the episode's title suggests, a certain doom.

And when he sees her again, he can't take his eyes off her.

He doesn't believe his eyes at first; he looks all over her to make sure she's not hurt, but when she speaks, asking him if he's good, he finally breathes again, letting out the breath he's been holding.

The community is safe (for now) since the horde has been dealt with, and his next immediate thought is, "You still got me" and "New Mexico is still out there." He immediately brings back the idea of running away together; why? Because he now knows that this time he got way too close to losing her forever and will not be risking that ever again. He's now ready to leave everything and everyone else he cares about behind, so he'll never risk losing her again.

He loves her so much that, once again, all else comes second.

When he hugs her, he pulls her in tighter than ever before, making sure he's holding onto as much of her as possible because he needs to know that this is real, that he's actually holding her, that she's right there, unharmed and breathing, and not just a part of a dream of what he wants to see.

I believe he forgives everything in that instant, including her actions that led to losing Connie, because his pain is not worth causing her any more of it. He will now carry that guilt for himself, taking as much of her burden as possible just to make living a little easier for her. Because he'd rather shoulder all the pain and guilt than lose her, and because he can live with the pain and guilt, but he can't live without her.

~~~~~~~~

S11 EP24 Rest in Peace (Daryl & Carol)

I believe the events of the season 11 finale forced them to come to a new level of internal acceptance. Seeing the people around them lose the ones they love the most started a spark, and it started to force them to have those internal conversations.

The reality began to sink in for both of them that there had been too many close calls to keep denying themselves what they truly wanted, and It's now more true to them than ever that their tomorrow isn't guaranteed.

We all expected this to be the moment they went for what they'd wanted for so long, but we were wrong; their wounds were just too deep, and their instinct to self-sacrifice was once again too strong.

A year later, we see them once again dedicating their lives to helping others, Carol taking over Hornsby's job and helping put the commonwealth back together, and Daryl setting out to see what's left out there, hoping to find Rick and Michonne and bring them back to their family.

~~~~~~~~

TOWL S01 EP04 What We (Daryl & Carol) - A Parallel

There's a pretty important parallel that I'd like to point out as well. In episode 4 of TOWL, when Micheonne asks Rick what the CRM took from him, Rick responds to her by saying:

"When I got taken, I fought, and I fought, and not just by trying to get away, but by how I would dream. I'd meet up with Carl in my dreams. And that's how I survived in here. Kept me alive... But then I started dreaming of you [Michonne]... and it kept me going... I can't live without you. Without you, I die."

It's important here to note that Rick is speaking to his wife. When he was taken away and at his lowest, he survived because when he went to sleep, he dreamed about Carl (his son) and Michonne (his soulmate) and his happy memories with them.

So what does Daryl dream about when he's taken away and at his lowest? (TWD:DD S01 EP01)

He dreams about Judith (his surrogate daughter) and Carol (his soulmate).

He dreams about Judith telling him that he deserves a happy ending too, and his very next thought is of Carol, seeing her again and being with her again because that's the happy ending he truly wants.

And what does Carol dream about when she's at her lowest in season 10?

She dreams about Henry (her adoptive son) and Daryl (her soulmate)

She dreams about the life she's always wanted, a home, a family and a life with Daryl because that's the happy ending she truly wants.

Also, just a quick mention that even Michonne refers to Rick (her husband) as her friend when speaking to Virgil in TWD 10x08 (TS: 40:00 - 41:20)

~~~~~~~~

So why is TBOC going to be any different? And why was Daryl ending up in France the best thing that could have happened for Caryl?

Because they have finally reached a point where they almost believe they've lost the other, they have been forced to feel the dependence of their existence on the others.

They have never been truly separated before, not to this extent. And what to them was previously only a fear has now become a reality.

When they're reunited, it's going to be with a completely new perspective and total understanding of the extent of their need for one another, and the idea of just having one another in each other's lives will no longer even remotely come close to being sufficient.

I'll elaborate a little...

After all these years, we've seen them constantly save one another and be terrified of losing each other. But no matter what, nothing got them to the point where they felt they needed (more than anything) to confess to the other. So far, everything they have faced during the main show has been different shades of the same thing, and the urgency was never high enough to outweigh their self-doubt and insecurities.

What France has given us is a whole new level of steaks. Where we'll find them in season 2 is on the verge of believing that they'll never be able to see each other again; this, coupled with the fact that they don't even know if the other is even alive, and the fact that the distance and time apart has given them a true taste of how much they need the other, we now have the perfect and unique recipe for something that outweighs their self-doubts and insecurities.

It's the age-old idea of you don't know what you have until it's gone. The difference between:

Watching everyone around them lose the people they love most: they empathise with them, their heart breaks for them, they may even be devastated by that loss, and ultimately, it probably makes them cherish the ones they still have even more.

They, themselves, losing the person they love most: this is something that needs to be experienced to be understood. It's reality shifting, and the pain/loss outweighs anything else.

And now, after experiencing that loss for themselves, by some miracle, they're given another chance with that person... what a way to completely shift someone's priorities and ability to act past insecurities.

~~~~~~~~

To wrap up I wanna go back to Norman's words from the NYCC TBOC press conference:

"[Carol] feels something's wrong. They have that kind of bond, where there's a lot of unspoken things that are said... the bonds that we made in the flagship show are still very strong... [Carol] can take care of herself, of course... but the bond just keeps getting stronger and stronger..."

And David Zabel's words from his interview with Entertainment Weekly (interview link):

"The main focus of season 2 for me was always Daryl and Carol coming back together and what does that mean? And it becomes ultimately a story about how we as people can save each other. She's trying to find him, but in the process of telling that story: How are they ultimately getting to a place where they're kind of saving each other?...showing what's happening inside these characters as people in the most intimate personal way"

Daryl and Carol have loved and cared for each other so profoundly, especially when they couldn't love themselves, even to the point of sacrificing their own happiness to prioritise the others. If that is not the true meaning of soulmates, then I don't know what is. And we all know that some of the greatest loves are routed in the truest friendships.

~~~~~~~~

Thank you to everyone who read through this! I know it was an extra long one, and it could have been even longer, but I've decided to post their moments from 10C separately, as there's a lot more to break down there. I really enjoyed writing this, and I'm so happy/grateful that I have this platform to share these thoughts with you all. I'd love to know your thoughts on the things I've mentioned or missed ♡♡♡

As some of you already know, I'll be attending the Tribeca Premiere for TBOC in 9 days. After that, I'd like to write and share a spoiler-free-ish afterthought for this post, including what I've taken away from episode 1, what was said during the cast panel afterwards, and my thoughts on what's to come for Caryl. If anyone would like to be tagged when that's posted, please let me know.

I'll be posting a more detailed and spoilery analysis of Episode 1 once it's actually released.

#daryl dixon #carol peletier #caryl #the book of carol #the walking dead daryl dixon #the walking dead #twd #my gifs #caryl positivity #CarylArchives

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luveline · 1 year

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ok so i’ve been thinking about a line in one of your steve zombie au drabbles where steve says something along the lines of “you only stop taking to me when you’re mad” . Maybe we could get a fic where they get in a fight and that happens? i love your writing so much 🫶🏼

thank you for your request ♥ steve zombie!au ♥ I am not good at writing fights so I did them making up! fem!reader 1.2k

The silence is icy cool. You look up at your bedroom ceiling and its small yellow line of water damage and blink. You haven't cried since your argument, though you've felt like you could a couple of times.

It's the longest gap of quiet you've had with each other in a long time. Not counting when you're asleep, you and Steve talk a lot, and when you're sleeping you're touching, so it doesn't feel like you aren't talking.

Now you're both straight in bed, on your backs, hands close but not touching. Not talking.

The window is open, springtime air infiltrating the room. It smells like the wet mulch of sycamore leaves, chilling your skin uncomfortably. You cover your chest with your arms.

"You want me to close the window?" Steve whispers.

Your words feel like mush in the back of your throat. You worry you'll cry if you speak.

Fuck, you hate fighting with Steve. It's a great thing to communicate with one another, and you're good at it — you'd spent a long time learning to get along. Love makes it easier to forgive infractions, but fights still happen.

It's the possible consequences of a fight that freeze you up.

Steve says your name softly. "Come on, don't give me the silent treatment."

"I'm sorry," you say genuinely, your voice all stuck together like you've swallowed a big lump of taffy, "I don't mean to."

"I know. I'll close it, okay? It's…" He stands up. "Cold." He sighs.

You're still mad. You're upset by some of the things he'd said. Underneath that is a searing, unquenchable thought. What if he dies tomorrow and you wasted tonight being mad? What if he gets bit? Shot? Has an aneurysm? You want to stop being mad but anger doesn't work like that. You can't will it away.

Steve closes the window. The frame plunks. You turn your head to watch him climb back into bed, and, buoyed by your looking, Steve slides in on his side and meets you head on. He smells like hand soap and the low hum of a day's worth of sweat. It isn't the worst smell in the world —you're used to far worse— and you kind of like it. You tilt your head toward his and breathe in sync.

"I was wrong when I said you were being selfish," he says quietly. "When you explained it to me, I got it. But I really would be happier if you tried to keep the room clean."

"I'm sorry," you say again.

You try not to fall back into the defensiveness you'd felt earlier. You'd taken your insecurity in yourself and projected it on your relationship.

Steve waits.

"I didn't realise you were cleaning up after me so much."

He puts his hand on your hip, a warm handprint seeping into your skin. "I don't really mind cleaning up after you," he says sheepishly.

He shouldn't have to, though.

You're being honest, you hadn't noticed that he was keeping things in certain places, organising your stuff, turning your tiny room into a clean, safe space for the both of you. But when he'd tried to tell you, you'd gotten defensive, and he's quick to frustration, and tada, your first fight in the loved up months had occurred.

You don't know what to say. You don't really want to talk, your body focused almost completely on the shape of his palm where it presses into you.

"Just talk to me," Steve says.

"I don't know what to say."

"Say anything," he encourages, his hand travelling under your t-shirt to squeeze at the naked skin under your chest.

"I don't want to fight again."

"Then we won't." Steve bursts forward and kisses you. Despite its sudden nature it's a soft thing, close-mouthed. He pecks you twice and breathes a sigh against your lips. His hair brushes over your cheek so lightly it tickles.

"I shouldn't have said you were selfish. I'm sorry, baby."

He'd actually called you a selfish asshole, which had hurt a shocking amount. Name-calling isn't really a thing you guys do anymore, and it had surprised you, but…

"I think I deserved it for brushing you off. For not noticing how much you do in here," you murmur.

"We've haven't talked about it before, I don't blame you for not taking it seriously." His hand moves to the small of your back. He pulls you in, and only after he's closed the gap between you does he ask, "Can we stop fighting?"

"You're not still mad?" you ask.

"Not really. Are you?"

You wrap your arms around him. "Maybe a little," you admit. "I don't think it's your fault, though. I don't know."

"Be mad if you want. Have space if you need it, even if it's gonna drive me crazy, but please don't stop talking to me."

His voice sounds uncharacteristically small.

It might be silly, but any anger you'd been holding onto dissipates just like that. You tuck your face into the nook over his shoulder, fingers splayed over his back. You kiss his neck gently.

"Stevie," you mumble. "Sorry. I'm not mad, okay? Are– are you?"

"I just told you I'm not."

"I know, but sometimes I think you'll tell me what I want to hear."

Not to be full of yourself, but you know Steve loves you. It makes a lot of things easier, most things in fact, but it makes understanding how he's feeling in moments like this harder. You both want to sweep it under the rug and be sweet on one another again, but avoiding the issue will only make it bigger.

"What do you want to hear?" he asks lightly.

"Steve." You laugh, rubbing the tip of your nose against the neckline of his shirt. It pulls.

"I'm not mad. I think all the mad kind of went away after I called you an asshole. Which I'm sorry for."

"You've called me worse."

"I'm sorry for that, too."

You drop your head back on the pillow to get a good look at him, locking your gaze onto his. His eyes look very dark in the dim light of the room. The sun is setting quickly. Soon, it'll be night time.

"So we're both sorry," you say, twisting a piece of his hair around your finger. "And I'm not gonna stop talking to you. You couldn't make me. You could break up with me and I'd still follow you around asking stupid questions."

He tries not to smile. A laugh bubbles between his lips, and it's like the sun comes out right there in your tiny dorm room in Michigan.

"Shit, I love you," he says.

You push his chin up to kiss the underside of his jaw. "I love you too."

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you

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m-beloved · 7 months

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Waiting like a lonely dog || Bi-Han x gn reader ||

Ooc Bi-Han, drabble, slight angst, bad writing/unreliable narrator, pt. 1 here, pt. 2 here

As far as Bi-Han could remember, he had been on his own. No one had been there for him, no one had gone through the things he did. When his faced his father's fury after failing a mission, he faced it alone. When he carried the burden of being the heir to the Lin Kuei, he carried it alone.

Being alone was all he knew and all he would be, at least until he met you.

You were always there. In a world where he thought he was the only one he could rely on, you proved him wrong. You were there after a tough mission to hold him in your arms. You were there to help shoulder his burden when he needed it.

You were there for him, like a pillar he could count on for support. He often wondered why you'd stay this long. Why you never got tired of his coldness. Why you never left him. Why you put up with him.

Why you loved him.

Loving him was something you could live without. No matter how hard he tried, he could never love you the same way you loved him. You had to initiate most, if not everything. Soft words and kind gestures did not come easy to him.

Love did not come easy to him.

No matter how much he wanted to, the words wanted to say would not leave his lips. It was as if someone had cast a spell on him, leaving him unable to speak his mind.

No matter what you did for him, what affectionate gestures you did, Bi-Han would find himself unable to truly reciprocate it. The most you would get in return was a nod or a hesitant kiss. Words of affection that spewed from your mouth would always be met with a quiet agreement. Everything the two of you did was initiated by you.

He told himself it was okay. He could love you in other ways. He could protect you and at the end of the day, the two of you always ended up together one way or another and he could still hold you in his arms.

He would always wait for you to come back to him, like a dog waiting for its owner. He would bare his teeth and snarl and growl at everyone, eyeing them with wary eyes but looking at you with soft loved-filled ones.

You were enough for him.

But he wasn't enough for you. He wasn't good enough for you. He never was, was he? Never good enough for his father and not good enough for you.

Over time, the love in your eyes would fade along with the affection you used to show him. You no longer wanted him to hold you. He no longer felt the warmth of your eyes admiring him during the day.

He could feel the distance between the two of you growing larger, larger than he could fix.

Before he knew it, you had slipped out of his grasp.

"I don't think this is going to work." You said quietly, looking at him with a tired expression. "I don't think we can work."

At first, he was angry. Didn't you realise how hard he was trying? How badly he wanted to be able to be there for you and be what you needed? He was tempted to grab and yell at you for being selfish. For not loving him like you promised you would.

Without realising, he acted on instinct and grabbed your wrist with a small hint of panic and anger in his eyes. But then he came to his senses. It wasn't your fault that he wasn't good enough. It wasn't your fault that he wasn't able to be what you needed.

He could feel a pit of dread open up in his stomach. You needed more than he could be. He should let you go, if you didn't want him then he should move on. It wouldn't do him good to dwell on things like that anyway. Right?

"Please don't leave me." He wanted to say. "I love you. I really do. Please stay."

Instead, all that came out was a small sigh as he let go and took a step back as though he was trying to distance himself from you already. "...Okay."

As though you could sense his restless thoughts, you stepped forward and hesitantly rested a hand on his arm. "Look, I'm sorry. I just...I don't think I can do this anymore. I still love you. I'm just not in love with you."

He wished you didn't. It felt like pity. He didn't need pity, and certainly not from you. You had chosen to leave him, to abandon him after he let you in and relied on you.

"I don't need your fucking pity." He sneered, pushing down the panic and directing the anger towards you. "I don't need you at all. Leave. Now."

He smacked your hand away from his arm, feeling lonelier than ever as you shot him a hurt and sorrowful look before leaving with a quiet. "Okay".

Why did he do that? Why did he let you in, let you melt his walls and layers he had so carefully put up and let you show him love?

He hated you.

He hated you he hated you he hated you he hated you he hated you he hated you he hated you he hated you he hated you he hated you he hated you he hated you he hated you he hated you he hated you he hated you he hated you he hated you he hated you he hated you.

He loved you.

Why couldn't he hate you? Was it because he was too used to playing the role of a loyal guard dog, always protecting and waiting? You abandoned him, stole his heart and left a you-shaped hole that could never be filled.

Yet, a part of him hoped you return and reveal it was an elaborate trick so everything could return to normal. He could wait for you to call him and he would go like the dog he was. He would hold you at the end of each day, silently apologising for the way he couldn't love you properly.

He wanted to love you, but he was raised to bare his teeth and snarl at everyone. Being rough and savage and a monster was the only way he knew how to be, and it was the only thing he would ever be.

So he would be the next best thing and love as a guard dog. As your guard dog. Always at your beck and call, protecting you from anyone he deemed a threat and waiting endlessly for you.

He would wait for you like a loyal dog waiting for its owner, despite knowing you were never calling him again.

A/n: Sorry guys, idk what happened my demons took over for a moment and I woke up to this anyways Bi-Han is so fine I want him in my bed NEOW!!! I'm gonna suck his dick so hard it separates from his body and slides down my throat

#mk1 #mortal kombat #bi han #mk1 x reader #bi han sub zero #bi han x reader #sub zero #bi han x gn reader #mk1 x gn reader #mortal kombat x reader #bi han x male reader

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circyexistforcontent · 1 year

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DRUNK SNUGGLES WITH GOD READER

❀ synopsis- Diluc watches behind the bar counter as their Millenia old lover drinks liquor like they're going to die tomorrow. Basically a Diluc x Reader.

❀ pronouns- none specified

Diluc wonders if Gods have some sort of special connection with wine, or any sort of alcoholic drink that exists. Have the archons maybe inherited their drinking habits from you? He sighs as he hands you another glass of dandelion wine, watching as you giggle at the sight of melting ice.

It was a few years ago when you descended back to Teyvat, festivals have been a regular occurrence when you so much as step foot in another nation. Your acolytes have been trailing you with their tails tucked between their legs, and panic when you disappear from their line of sight. Their behavior was suffocating, so you would sometimes sneak away from your chambers and shapeshift into a civilian.

That was how he met you, when you had too many drinks you accidentally shifted back to your original form when Diluc was going to kick you out of the bar. He let you sleep in his room that night and the morning after he was on his knees begging for your forgiveness. These meet-ups soon became a routine, when Zhongli wasn't looking you would teleport to a secluded area and shapeshift to a civilian and visit Diluc at the dawn winery.

He knows he should stop you soon, he wouldn't want another accident to happen because you drank a little too much. He didn't want Dawns Winery to teleport in the middle of the ocean again just because he left you unsupervised. It was a long process to make you sober enough to fix the problem and you'll try not to cause more accidents. So when you were in your 20th bottle he approached you.

"Your grace, you are drinking too much again," Diluc said as he gently took the bottle from your grasp. You just continued giggling, doodling smiley faces with the puddle of wine on the counter.

"No, I'm not~ I only drank a few glasses." You said as you try to sit up from your chair, only to fall face-first on the ground. Diluc immediately helped you up from the floor, slinging your arm over his shoulder as you continue to laugh through the pain.

Diluc could feel his heart quicken its pace when you lean into him for support, he could feel your hot breath brush at the back of his neck. All his childhood, he has been taught that you are the divine creator, a god above all gods. But seeing you in this state almost makes him believe you are just another drunk yard.

But he knows better, he had the privilege to talk to you casually every time you visit the winery. You were eloquent with your wording, each word that came out of your mouth was spoken with grace. He could feel the kindness seeping out of your form whenever you talked about the people of Teyvat.

He was taking more than he should from you, from talking freely with you to touching you and leading him to sleep in his room. He knows this would be heinous in the eyes of your other followers, goodness knows what your acolytes will do once they discover this. But he allows himself to indulge in his selfishness.

He gently lays you down in his bed, placing some blankets on your form. He was about to leave before your weak voice was heard across the room.

"Love? Is that you?" You tumorously ask.

"Where are you going?" Diluc was confused. Love? Did you think he was your lover? Did you use to have a lover?

"Love, please stay with me. We don't spend as much time together..." You weakly said, trying to get out of bed. Diluc quickly made his way towards you, stopping you from leaving.

"Your grace please don't stand up, you'll fall over again."

"I already told you not to call me that Love." There you go again, calling him that pet name.

"I'm not your lover, your grace." He simply said. You wrap your arms around his own, pulling him as close to you as possible.

"Don't be like that Love, I know it's you. I can tell it's you with the way you look." You twirl his hair with your fingers.

"The way you talk." Your fingers brush against his lips.

"The way you breathe." He can feel your breath brush on his ear, sending a shiver through his spine. He can feel his mind get drunk at the sensation, his vision feeling hazy.

"Sleep beside me Love, it's been a while." He snapped out of his trance as he looked at you like you just grew several limbs.

"Your grace you know I can't-"

"Why not?" You ask innocently, tilting your head. How can he explain to a drunk god that he can't sleep beside them? He knows he's indulging in his selfish desires, but to sleep beside the divine creator would be blasphemy. He wouldn't dare to do such an act.

"You're being too tense, it's not like we're gonna do anything." Before he can refuse you toss him over your shoulder as he fell to the soft cushions of his mattress. You snuggle next to him before he can quickly leave, burying your face on his shoulder.

He can feel his cheeks bloom a shade of pink as he struggles to escape your grip. All you did was giggle as you start to pepper his face with chaste kisses. After a few attempts of leaving he submits to you, deciding that this was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

He leans into you until both your foreheads were touching, he can smell the familiar scent of dandelion wine coming from your lips. Without realizing you slowly shifted back to your original form, and your [H/C] locks slowly appeared back. His breath hitched, you were beautiful. Seeing you like this feels illegal.

But then again, he broke the law before. What's the difference now?

"I miss being here with you..." You said breathlessly, playing with his red hair as he hums in response. He closes his eyes to relax, enjoying the tranquility of the moment. You closed your eyes as well, letting the familiar sensation of rest engulf you.

#🍒sagau #sagau x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #self aware genshin impact #genshin self aware #genshin cult au #sagau diluc #diluc x reader #sagau headcanons #genshin sagau #sagau diluc x reader #sagau #genshin impact

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loonyoz · 1 month

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Part of what I love about Wyll is how he feels like a character you have to keep pulling back the layers on. Like one of those 3d puzzles you think you’ve got figured out and then you realize you’re right back where you started. Which I guess is just the long way of saying he's a well made character. I’m gonna do a play by play of my first interactions with him to illustrate my point:

When you first meet him you’re like omfg who is this boy with the dramatic theater kid entrance lmao. Wyll, you are so dorky (affectionate).

You next see him helping tiefling kids learn to fight. Not in a harsh militaristic way, more in a gentle and even playful way (eg. When you play as Wyll you can tell them dramatic stories about how Wyll slayed a dragon.) You're like oh yeah this guy has the whole hero thing going on. Very disney prince over here.

Then you talk to him and he talks about an evil devil that must be killed with such adamance and determination. You're like oh wow he can get pretty intense. He's so determined about this, he's willing to put aside the pressing threat of ceremorphosis. This kind of unmoving moral stance, this very good and serious abt it thing, it gives off paladin vibes imo

Ok so thats two sides of him, dramatic storybook hero and strong willed paladin.

Then you get to the confrontation with Karlach, and pretty quickly realize this flaming hot cheeto (idk why I called her that ok, but im leaving it in) of a tiefling shouldn't be killed. Wyll takes some convincing and you're like Wyll you dumbass you're seeing what Im seeing right? The tadpole is showing us she's innocent, why dont you believe that?

Then its only till later you realize he had so many good reasons to hesitate:

He has been doing this job for 7 years now, to break off from the script he's used to, is a risky thing. If he cant trust his 7 years of experience he's left floundering. If he cant trust that he's been only killing evil, then he's broken his moral code too. (If I were in his shoes id for sure be having an existential crisis)

He's learned the hard way to distrust devils, what if Karlach is tricking everyone into thinking she's innocent?

Or maybe he's scared of what it will mean if he doesn't kill her, he'll be breaking his pact, and the consequences for that will most definitely be harsh. I don't think that's selfish or cruel of him to consider killing her out of fear of what will happen if he doesn't. I think Wyll would be unfair to himself for those thoughts tho. Like the whole airplane oxygen mask analogy is a good way to talk about it. Wyll would go to every passenger on the plane and make sure their masks are on, then collapse from oxygen deprivation because he never put his own on. Perhaps an extreme and unrealistic scenario, but illustrative of his admirable but harmful self sacrifice.

In summary, his hesitation and need to be convinced shows a lovely amalgamation of his character, his life experience, and his values, and how it results in a moment of conflict and indecision.

But it takes very little to convince him not to kill karlach. You tell him twice that Karlach is no threat/innocent, and he stops panicking, and pulls himself together with the kind of emotional control/repression that makes you go "uh oh babes has unresolved trauma and needs therapy"

His ability to listen to others when people tell him he's wrong shows that he has a flexibility and emotional maturity that is unlike the stereotypical paladin. Once he realizes Karlach is innocent, the rules he follows no longer matter to him.

He resigns himself to his fate because for him there is no other way for it to be. This shows that no matter how theatrical his heroics appear, it is not merely a guise. You can trust that he truly cares for people because he is willing to sacrifice himself for the sake of a stranger.

Then Mizora shows up and his response is to argue against her, to say, "you told me no innocents". Which shows once again where his priorities lie, now that injustice has been pointed out to him he will use every ounce of his will to fight it. It also shows that human weakness again too. His fallibility (I mean who can blame him devils are great manipulators) and his worried questioning of the rules that he has followed for so long.

And then when you put all the drama aside, and listen to his lighthearted dialogue you remember/realize he’s also very goofy and the kind of chill guy you’d want to invite to every friend hangout.

asfgjkl; anyway I have way too many thoughts and feelings abt this guy. If you read all this damn. But lmk what you guys think about my reflections!

Also shoutout to all of the fic writers and random fan posts ive read that have inspired some of these thoughts

#I took my adhd meds for once and it possessed me to write this lol #bg3 #wyll ravengard #wyll

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unique-high · 7 months

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Keep Wanting You | RIIZE ANTON X BLK FEM READER.

summary: why you gotta make me keep wanting you?

theme: ex-lovers in a small town.

loosely based on the song Why Ya Wanna by Jana Kramer. Lyrics are sort of written into the fic.

a/n: I do take requests for RIIZE so yeah. 😭 this is just a little drabble I did it late in the morning because I really love this song and I really wanted to write something for Anton. 🥺 sorry for any mistakes.

You didn't expect for your ex Anton to walk through those diner doors that late August afternoon. So all the gossip around town was true that he was back in town. He's the only person from high school who left this little hometown to chase his big dreams in a big city. He's chatting with some older people who watched him grow up as a kid. You were hoping he didn't notice you, but he does, that little glimpse he gives you while he's talking with someone makes your heart sink to your stomach.

Why did he have to come here, of all places?

Anton walks up to your table. He's smiling and your heart is breaking like the night he left you behind in this town. You want to hide your face, your eyes sting as you try to fight back the tears with a fake smile.

He's wearing an old shirt that you love. A cotton white tee with a black heart sewn into the front pocket. You were never sure why you loved that shirt on him, but you did. Anton sat across from you, his eyes taking you in.

“You're looking good,” he said.

His words felt like a punch to the gut. No hello. No, how you have been. Just you're looking good. It was kind of his way to draw you in a bit to make you trust him again and to get you to think he's leaving was never a big deal.

“Thanks...?” you said softly.

He reached across the table, his index finger tapping three times on the back of your hand. Three little taps coded for ‘I love you’, something you and Anton came up with back in high school.

You slowly drew your hand away.

“It's been a while,” he said.

“Yeah...it has...”

“You never left this place.” There's a bit of regret stuck in his throat.

“Why would I?” Your words are icy. “This place is all I know.”

“Don't you want to see something else outside of our hometown?”

“No... Not really.”

Seeing anything else didn't feel right. That safety of where home would always be kept you nestled in this town. And you never saw why Anton would want to leave a place that felt like a comforting hug after a long day. Or just suddenly leave you for some dream right after graduation. God, you were glad he wasn't here to see those first couple of months when you were a mess behind him.

So seeing him now, just having him sit across from you like everything was fine, slowly opened those wounds that didn't quite heal up enough.

“Is it wrong of me to say I've missed you?” he said.

You look down at your coffee mug. Your reflection staring back at you in the black coffee with a few cubes of sugar in it.

“Do you really?” Your voice creaks on the way up your throat.

Anton doesn't say anything for a moment. Maybe because it was selfish of him to say something like that. Like what right did he have to you now?

“Yeah. Mainly you're one reason I'm back here,” he said.

Him saying that caused you physical pain.

Was I really? Your red nails tapped at the side of the coffee mug. It would be a lie if you said you didn't miss him. If you didn't think about him all these years later. If you hadn't checked his Instagram a billion times to see if he had moved on. Just flings here and there, but nothing serious. The girls in the city could never compare to the one small-town girl that he still loved.

So he fucked up by leaving you.

“Anton, don't say something you don't mean.” You pleaded. “Don't okay?”

You look up from your coffee.

“I mean it though.” He said. “I mean it with every heartbeat.”

The corners of your mouth pull down and your eyes water. You grabbed a napkin from the middle of the table and dabbed at your eyes, trying not to ruin your makeup.

“I need to go.” You said.

Because things were getting too real. If he said anything else, you would have maybe done the one thing you said you'd never do, which was forgive him.

You slid out of the booth and so did Anton. You placed a couple of dollars on the table for your coffee. Anton follows you out of the diner. You stopped walking.

“Don't follow me–” It's the way he moved in for a hug that caught you off guard.

What was he thinking? You let it happen. You deep down you wanted it though. It's a shame almost you craved his hug. How you melt against his body, how his arms tighten around your shoulders, your face in his chest smelling him. You were coming unglued.

It's sad how you wanted him again to go back to the familiarities of his love like he never broke your heart when he said goodbye. And God, how you wished he had been cold towards you like any ex would. But that wasn't him.

You needed to push him away. You needed to yell at him that this wasn't fair—that he doesn't get to do this to you. Hell, you can't bring yourself to do any of it. It felt so right with him right now.

#kpop fanfic #kpop x black reader #riize anton x blk fem reader #riize anton x reader #riize anton imagine #riize anton scenario #riize anton x woc #riize anton fanfic #riize fanfic #kpop drabbles #riize anton drabble #riize drabble #kpop x ambw #kpop x reader #kpop x black fem reader

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layla4567 · 7 months

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Spoilers Loki s2 e5

I have a lot to say!!! (this will be long)

Ok first of all this scene made me laugh a lot because of how randomly they presented the original timeline of Mobius, he looks like a child playing (oh and him being a single dad it makes a lot of sense to me)

expectation:

reality:

Oh my f*cking god If I liked O.B before, now I love him with all my soul! He is not only a nerdy genius but a science fiction geek whose passion is to be a writer!!! And why didn't they let him keep his books in the bookstore?! I would gladly buy them!! Just look at his face, he needs a hug :(

AND WHY THE FUCK DID THEY NOT HELP HIM WHEN THE BOOKS DROPPED ON HIM?! IT COSTS NOTHING TO BE KIND DAMN IT

Ok, I think we've all realized that O.B's workshop is the same as the basement where he works at the TVA, maybe he was the one who created the TVA after all? btw how beautiful the photography is in this entire series.

I admit it, I laughed my ass off at this scene, I apologize (make it a meme pls lol) Honestly, this whole scene and the interactions that O.B had with Loki made me laugh (when Loki tries to control his timeslipping or when O.B electrocutes him as scientific proof)

This scene where Loki adjusts his hair and his jacket to see Mobius 👀 (he only does it with him) I wonder what the Sylki fans have to say

Remember how I said I hated Hunter X5/Brad Wolfe? Well I was wrong, there is one person I hate more, her. Girl, they're literally telling you that everything is going to shit and you don't give a damn? On top of that, when they tell you that you are selfish, do you take it naturally as if it were something to be proud of? Why are you like this? The worst thing of all is that when Loki says he wants his friends back she calls him selfish, not sweetheart, that's not being selfish. Being selfish is turning a blind eye to a problem that you mainly caused. Loki's fear of being alone is understandable and justified since he felt that way all his life and has done all the things he did for that same reason, which It's being really selfish, it's the opposite, wanting to be alone and forget your friends and not care that their timelines are falling apart. Sylvie you are a hypocrite (sorry I had to vent)

AAAAAAAAAA I'M GOING TO CRY GOD. I said it and I will always say it Loki needs a hug 😭 This scene is super moving because it shows us Loki's true purpose, he just wants his friends back, who are also people he hasn't known for a long time but who were attentive to him (btw Tom Hiddleston always shines in all his scenes )

This scene...holy shit this scene was scary. I think it's even more terrifying than Thanos' snap.

It's overwhelming how everything around her disappears in seconds leaving her in literal emptiness. There is absolutely nothing left, only threads floating in an enveloping blackness. When I saw that scene I felt empty and desolate.

OH SHIT HERE WE GO AGAIN...

NOOOOOOO MOBIUS NOT YOU (He just wanted to save his children 😭)

Loki's face when he sees his friend disappear D: (I'm having deja vu from the first season when Mobius was pruned)

Sylvie too?! Why does she disappear and Loki doesn't? (By the way, you just arrived Sylvie when you realize that everything is disappearing? really?)

Ok this is a nightmare for Loki, he was left alone and couldn't do anything to avoid all that, I think it's the most hopeless scene of the episode :( (And the way he tries to grab those threads…I'm broken)

OK HEAR ME OUT BECAUSE I HAVE A LOT TO SAY ABOUT THIS SCENE. I think the background voices help a lot with the feeling of anguish and helplessness that Loki feels, for not being able to save what he loved most, his friends. And when you feel overwhelmed by all those voices and at the end one stands out and it's Sylvie's voice saying something like what makes a Loki a Loki is the fact that we are destined to lose? That's when he screams in despair and goes back in time just a few seconds earlier and manages to control his timeslipping. And I must say that at first when I saw this scene it reminded me a lot of the scene from the movie "Ella Enchanted" when she is forced to kill the prince and she is surrounded by mirrors and begins to remember moments of her life such as when her mother told him to trust her or something like that (I don't remember the scene much, I saw it years ago lol) the point is that she refuses with all her heart to obey that order and in a moment of desperation she screams just like Loki and she says that she will no longer be obedient and drops the dagger, freeing herself from the spell. I don't know if you understand my point because I'm bad at explaining, but I think that the love he feels for his friends was what made him go back in time, that strong desire to want to make things right and that determination to say "this isn't true." It can end like this, I decide what is going to happen" (free will) I think that is what makes him finally able to control the situation, love is the most powerful force. Something similar happens in the movie "Tomorrowland" I think.

This scene is really powerful, the background music, the phrases that Loki says, the context of the scene, it is cinema. I think you don't need an action scene or scenes for a scene to be epic and move you. This is epic with so little, it is simple but effective. And the music is really the icing on the cake, it is so hopeful and gives strength to the moment when Loki returns to the TVA being able to fulfill his mission, I cried. Loki has evolved into a hero who saves the day and everyone.

And that ending??! Oh no the cliffhanger again..

Phew I know this was very long but I really needed this kind of catharsis, never has a Loki episode left me with so many emotions and beautiful things like this one. I laughed, I got excited, I cried and I was scared. I am very happy with the evolution of Loki and each episode that passes wins my heart more, I can't wait to see the next chapter. Everything is perfect in this series, the music, the settings, the actors, etc. It shows that it is made with the heart

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paintingwhiteceilings · 9 months

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Jeonghan | Be my safe place

Genre: angst, comfort TW: abusive relationship, cheating Pairing: Jeonghan x reader Word count: 1200~

a/n: Welcome to my first-ever individual prompt! Thank you for requesting it; I hope I did it justice! I didn't heavily lean into the cheating aspect, but hopefully, it will still provide some comfort. I am still figuring out the formatting and how long I should make these so if anyone has any tips feel free to let me know!

I just wanted to let those who find themselves in a similar situation know that you deserve the world and to be treated better. Please know that there are plenty of people out there who would love you for you and who would be honoured to be given the chance to love you. Stay safe x

Jeonghan had been walking for the past few hours, not really having a goal in mind, as he absently let his feet carry him from street to street. He wasn't sure where to go; all he knew was that he couldn't go back home, back to where she would be waiting for him.

He knew how it would go; she would apologize to him, down on her knees to beg for his forgiveness, and he would accept. They would be good to one another for a couple of weeks; she would shower him with affection before snapping back into the same old bad habits. Perhaps he finally had enough, enough of her harsh words, her constant demands, and her unwavering belittling. His friends told him repeatedly that she was an awful person and that the dynamic of their relationship wasn't healthy, but his love had blinded him.

As Jeonghan wandered around, he pondered where to go; as much as he loved his friends, he couldn't bear to be met with their disappointment and disapproval again. He knew they were right and that he should leave her, but their anger made him feel exhausted. Whenever his friends started insulting her, he felt like he needed to defend her actions.

When he ended up in front of your door, he shouldn't be as surprised as he was. He hadn't been friends with you for long, but it was undeniable that there had been an immediate connection. For some reason, the two of you simply clicked and a part of him felt like he never needed to conceal anything about himself around you. Perhaps that was why he subconsciously had gone over to your place; he knew that you would listen without judgement.

Thus, without any regard for the time, he rang your bell, hoping you were home. A part of him felt guilty for rousing you, robbing you from a good night’s rest for his selfish needs, but the bigger desperate part, longed to hear your kind words.

It took you a moment to realize someone was at your door; it had woken you up, and in your sleepy state, you had initially assumed that it was part of your dream. You found yourself stumbling through your apartment, briefly knocking your knee into the corner of your coffee table, as you rushed to open the door.

Seeing Jeonghan stand there, utterly defeated, however, was enough to shake you awake. You could tell from his slumped shoulders and his slight grimace that something was wrong. "Hey, what are you doing here?" He shrugged for a moment, unsure how to answer your question, before quietly remarking, "I had nowhere else to go".

After you invited him in and the two of you settled on your tiny couch, it didn't take long for the words to come spilling out. He recounted his relationship, and you listened patiently, knowing that if you were to interject even once, it would be too hard for him to continue. Once he finished, it felt like a poison had left his system; it had been a while since he had been able to recount his experience without those around him getting upset on his behalf. Your nods had encouraged him to keep going and somehow, for the first time in a long while, he felt heard.

You two momentarily settled in comfortable silence, processing Jeonghan's story before you spoke up, "Don't get me wrong, I obviously haven't seen your relationship first-hand, but the dynamic doesn't sound healthy. Her behaviour sounds a bit-“ you shifted uncomfortably in your chair, hoping he wouldn’t take your words the wrong way“-toxic. Are you sure that you want to stay with her?" Jeonghan shrugged, frowning at the wall as if it held the answer. "I don't know. A part of me cares for her, and we do have our good moments. We have been together for such a long time; I can’t help but question how I could possibly throw all of that away. But, I don't know, I don't think I can fix it. I don't know if I even want to fix it. It doesn't feel worth it anymore. Every fix so far has seemed temporary; we keep going in circles. It feels pointless."

You nodded, "people and relationships aren't black and white. They aren't all bad or all good; it is natural to feel conflicted. If everyone was an inherently good or completely bad person, life would be a lot easier.” You gave him a wry smile. “Unfortunately relationships are complicated and we have to weigh the good and the bad moments to figure out whether we want to continue to be in them or not. You don't have to decide on what to do right now, either. It might be a good idea to have some time away from her to think things over. It can sometimes be difficult to rationally look at a situation when we’re in it.” "I know… I know you’re right. Perhaps some space might give me the distance I need to think clearly," he paused, debating whether his next question would be too much, "Would it be okay if I crashed on your couch for a bit?"

Jeonghan ended up staying much longer than he intended; he tried to help you out with chores, trying to repay your kindness. Every night, the two of you would huddle together on the couch, where you would continue to listen to Jeonghan's thoughts. You appreciated his trust in your council and he, in turn, valued the advice you gave.

After sending his girlfriend a text explaining that he would be staying at a friend's place, he temporarily blocked her contact. She proceeded to barrage some of his friends, who gladly refused to tell her where he was located. He hadn't felt this at ease since he had started dating her. Her anger and insults couldn’t reach him at this tiny apartment. He felt safe.

After a week of being away from her, he stated during another night session, "I should probably break up with her. No, I mean I want to break up with her. I feel like I have wanted to break up for a while now, but maybe the thought of being alone scared me. I think being away from her and realizing it is making me happier should be enough indication that it is time to cut it off." You smiled at him, "Sounds like a plan; whatever happens, I will be rooting for you and I’ll be right here when you need me."

Jeonghan fell quiet for a moment; he felt slightly ashamed to admit that over the course of the past week, he had slowly started to fall for you. Maybe it was your unwavering kindness or the initial connection you shared becoming stronger with every conversation, but he increasingly felt himself drawn to you. He was aware that the timing was off and that he shouldn't be entertaining any new relationships for the foreseeable future, but at times, he found himself on the brink of telling you. The smile you were giving him was making his determination waver. Without thinking, he leaned over, softly pressing his lips against yours. It lasted for all but a moment, both of you immediately pulling away.

"I am so sorry; I don't know what came over me," he muttered, "I shouldn't have-" "No, no, it is okay. You're obviously vulnerable; we all do things we don't want to do-" "I wanted to," he softly interjected, effectively shutting you up. "I know I shouldn't, but I wanted to." "Jeonghan-" "I know, I know, the timing is completely off, and I should've talked to you about it first. I am in no state to act on anything new, and you deserve better. I know I have to break up with her first and then properly process it. I know." You could tell he was beyond frustrated with himself, running his hands through his hair. "I am not saying I don't reciprocate your feelings, but, yeah, you should deal with your situation first. Maybe, in the future, we could potentially date, but right now, no."

As Jeonghan left your place that morning, knowing that he was about to have an uncomfortable conversation with his girlfriend, he couldn't help but be in high spirits. Sure, the next couple of hours would be difficult, heck, maybe the next few weeks would be painful, but he knew that once those hardships passed, there was something to look forward to. Your words kept ringing in his ears as he wandered his way back home.

masterlist

#seventeen #svt #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan #seventeen angst #seventeen comfort #hurt/comfort #jeonghan x reader

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bookworm-with-coffee · 11 months

Text

Dancing With Death ~ Pt. 2. . .

(John Mitchell x Reader)

(A/N); Hello and welcome back to Dancing With Death! I present to you the second instalment! Please note, it's my first time writing proper smut, so I'm really sorry if it sucks!! Otherwise, enjoy!! ❤❤

Plot; When a human is invited to live with the gang, things get rather complicated for one John Mitchell...

Pairings; John Mitchell x Reader (Romantic)

Warnings; mature themes, violence, blood, coarse language, angst, smut (18+)

Part One

_________________________________________

Fate is rarely kind to those who tempt it. There is always a price to pay in the end.

The days drifted onwards, neither you or Mitchell caring to mention the almost-kiss you'd shared. Despite this, it was all you could think about. The way his gaze was so loving, his laugh, his confession in that hushed Irish accent. It gave you blissful goosebumps. But, those lips. So close, yet so far. You'd often imagined the feeling of him kissing you, the closest thing being that accidental brush. Tingles lingered where his lips had touched. It was so light and–

"(Y/n) (L/n), are you paying attention??", your teacher's voice rang out, shocking you from your thoughts.

"Pardon?", you sputtered. Your classmates giggled amongst themselves.

"Keep your attention in the here and now, Miss (L/n)", he reprimanded, before drawing his attention to the screen at the front of the room. It was going to be a very long morning for not just yourself.

Mitchell was working until noon at the hospital, bustling around in a hurry. Almost everywhere there was a spillage of some kind. It was unending for the poor vampire. And it was about to get worse.

A familiar head of blonde hair was weaving its way through the crowds, an exasperated sigh leaving the Irishman. "Ah, Mitchell", the older male greeted his acquaintance.

"Herrick", Mitchell returned, leaning on his mop.

"Don't look so unimpressed. I'll be needing word, if you don't mind?". With reluctance, Mitchell decided he'd entertain Herrick for a few moments, nodding silently. To anyone watching, Mitchell was a cleaner being questioned by a Police Officer. The head of the local department to be exact. Nothing out of the question there.

Their usual place to chat was the hospital canteen, Herrick ordering a coffee rather than the crappy hot chocolate that was made for him the last time. "What do you want? I work for a living", Mitchell ground out, staring the older man down from across their chosen table. Herrick was unintimidated by his counterpart, sipping his coffee without much care.

"I'm rather disappointed that you've forgotten", Herrick sighed. "Seth certainly hasn't".

"Seth is an arsehole", Mitchell shot back with a shrug.

"That's hardly news to the world, Mitchell. I'm talking about a very alarming incident. You know which one I'm referring to". The raven haired male narrowed his eyes for a moment before responding,

"What of it?".

"Your playing human, restricting your food habits is fine with me. But, taking it upon yourself to restrict others of our kind? That's just selfish", the blonde chided. "To make things worse, she now knows our secret".

"It's under control". Herrick's brows rose in intrigue.

"You must really trust this woman to be so sure of yourself", he mused. "Who is she to you, Mitchell? A colleague? A lover??". His eyes lit up with his next suggestion. "Your flatmate??".

"It's not your concern", Mitchell responded, irking Herrick into a laugh.

"Who's sick, sadistic idea was it then??", he asked, leaning across the table with a wolfish grin. "Gods, you must be suffering being so close to a human. Then again, you've always enjoyed being God's punching bag, haven't you?". The Irishman glowered, chewing the inside of his bottom lip. A violent delight flashed in Herrick's piercing blue gaze as it trailed over Mitchell's expression. "You've thought about it, haven't you? Plunging your fangs into her soft flesh, drinking the sweetness of her hot blood". Mitchell shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting away from Herrick's in shame. "Letting that divine warmth trickle down your chin, finally satisfying the beast inside".

"Get to the point already", Mitchell snapped.

"You know what I want from you and it's all completely voluntary".

"To join your little 'army'? You really think this revolution is going to work, don't you?", he scoffed.

"I know it's going to work. We're high in number now, Mitchell. It's only a matter of time", Herrick insisted. "We want you back. I certainly do".

"And what if I did join you, Herrick?", Mitchell challenged. "Hypothetically. What would become of my life then?".

"Your friends are hardly our focus, Mitchell. We're using our gift to help people", the blonde huffed. "If you join us, I'll leave them be".

"Just like that?", Mitchell retorted. "So unlike you".

"Your friends are of no concern to me. One is a floating spirit, the other can't hope to lay a paw on me unless the moon is full and the last? Well, we all know how fragile humans are". Herrick tugged at his shoulders, taking another sip of his coffee. "If you're that worried for her, I can guarantee that she won't be harmed".

Mitchell's gaze narrowed in silent contemplation, suddenly widening at the sound of your voice. "Mitchell?", you called to him from the doorway of the canteen, a sense of horror filling him. You couldn't be here, not now. Herrick's grin widened, his charm switching on. The blonde smelt your scent from where he sat, recognising it as the same sweet smell he'd detected on Seth.

The Irishman stood, his counterpart following suit. You could tell something wasn't right, but the both of you stayed silent when you strayed into the room to embrace your friend. Herrick eyed you keenly, your eyes then falling onto him expectantly. "Well, Mitchell. Aren't you going to introduce us?", he chuckled.

"(Y/n), meet William Herrick", Mitchell's voice remained unenthusiastic. "Herrick, meet (Y/n)". Eagerly, the blonde officer shook your hand, almost startling you with his cold. Those keen eyes reminded you of– He had to be a vampire.

"A pleasure", he assured you, an unreadable twinkle to his blue eyes. "I'm an old friend of Mitchell's".

"Nice to meet you", you forced a smile in your nervousness. Mitchell's hand remained protectively on the small of your back, suddenly taking his chance to remove you from this situation.

"If you'll excuse us, Herrick. We really must be going", the Irishman began to pull you along steadily yet with some hurry, allowing for Herrick to show himself out whenever he chose.

"Of course, of course", he nodded, smiling knowingly. "You will consider my proposal, won't you?". Mitchell froze, turning over his shoulder to acknowledge Herrick's words with a curt nod before leaving.

"Who was that?", you asked when you both had reached the end of the hallway.

"Someone I would have preferred you never to meet", Mitchell sighed, sparing a worried glance over his shoulder. "But, it's done".

"I see now, I shouldn't have come".

"Nonsense. You got me out of there", he nudged you gently, the both of you lapsing into a short fit of laughter. "Why did you come?".

"I just wanted to walk home with you. Class finished early today", you gnawed on your lower lip nervously. He nodded in understanding,

"I'm off work anyway now". Maybe it was better that you had come to find him? With Herrick around, goodness knows who else could be lurking.

The walk home was comfortable, despite your previous awkwardness with Mitchell. In sensing that your hands were cold, the vampire had offered you the surprisingly warm crevice of his strong arm and his fingerless mittens. The sun was more forgiving today, hiding behind the rain clouds that were slowly moving in from the south. Mitchell had been practising going into public without his sunglasses. It was working for him, the dull brightness no longer affecting his sight. You smiled to yourself. With every passing day, he considered himself more human than the last. Yet, you already considered him more a human being than anyone else you'd met.

You both stepped into the house, expecting an excited Annie to greet you both. But, the house was dim and uncharacteristically quiet. A note was left on the table, saying that she was out shopping with George for tea bags among other important things for the pantry. "I can't imagine the tea canisters ever being empty again", Mitchell chuckled, slipping his jacket from his shoulders. In noticing your quiet, his brows furrowed. "Is something the matter?? Did Herrick frighten you?".

"No", you replied dismissively, waving him off with a smile. "I'm thinking".

"About??". Your eyes closed in a form of dread, bracing for the worst at your answer, "About us, Mitchell". He swallowed nervously. "What are we, you and me?". His hazel hues darted from yours, forcing a smile.

"We're friends?", he feigned confusion.

"Are we??", you challenged, your brows raising. Your eyes traced him. "I haven't stopped thinking about it, you know? That kiss".

"It was an accident", he insisted gently, his voice wavering in unsurity.

"Were your words an accident too, Mitchell??". His lashes fluttered, blinking away in anxiousness. He parted his lips to speak, but there was only silence. You stepped closer to his taller frame, your warmer hand reaching out hesitantly. Testing the waters, your fingertips brushed over his hand. He reciprocated in tangling your fingers within his. "Look, I know what you said could've been spur of the moment, but—".

"It wasn't", his soft voice cut in, his form moving almost flush against yours. His eyes were suddenly drawn to your own. "I meant what I said". He heard the flutters of your heart, every fibre of him being drawn to you. Your spare hand rested upon his silent chest, pulling him gently to you. His head dipped, your lashes tickling his skin. "We shouldn't—", he reasoned as his last form of restraint, his lips finally meeting yours.

And so, your dance with death began...

Fireworks gave off beneath your skin, Mitchell's spare hand reaching to twine his fingers into your hair. His other hand released yours to steady your face, your hands gripping his flannelette shirt to bring him closer. You both stumbled into the wall nearest to you, Mitchell's lips working in concentrated passion with your own. Your lips parted, his kiss becoming devouring. His fingers gripped at your hair, only tugging gently enough for a sigh to pass through your lips.

In retreating from your lips, he traced his own down your throat in delicate touches whilst you caught your breath. The temptation for your blood was undoubtedly there, being completely drowned out by Mitchell's other desires. His lips marked your collarbone, his lashes brushing over your skin when his ministrations grew slower. You sensed his hesitation, knowing that he must be growing worried.

To soothe him, your fingers wound through his dark curls whilst he worked, your lips brushing over his forehead and his cheek before you leant in close. "It's alright, Mitchell. I trust you". Your whisper against the shell of his ear, combined with your nails raking over his scalp awoke something almost feral within him.

More sure of himself, Mitchell's lips moved fervently across the skin of your neck. His tongue darted out to strike at your flesh, his lips caressing a place there that had you gasping. Mitchell's forehead met yours, his strong arms having no trouble in hoisting your legs around his waist, your hands grasping at his hair and shoulders.

His nose brushed yours, your lips moulding together in tender open-mouthed kisses as he guided you both out of the living space and up the stairs. Your waist moved against his, a soft groan heaving from his throat. "Christ, don't move like that, (Y/n). We'll never make it to the bedroom if you do", he warned with a playful grin, offering your lips another quick kiss before his steps lead you both into your room. One of his legs kicked out, the door slamming behind you both.

Mitchell's feet stumbled to the edge of your bed, the both of you smiling against each other's lips when they met again sweetly. His arms suddenly became absent beneath you, a short cry leaving your lips when you crashed onto your mattress. A laugh slipped from you, Mitchell's expression mirroring your own. His fingers gripped his undershirt, lazily pulling it and his flannel shirt over his head at the same time. "You're certainly praticed at this", you jested, his brows wiggling suggestively.

"You haven't seen me with a bra", Mitchell replied with a short giggle, discarding his clothing. You stood from the bed, circling your arms around his broad frame.

Carefully, you'd noted his battle scars from his time at war, his hazel gaze glinting with a tenderness in watching you look over them. His lips parted when your mouth and fingertips graced over those old wounds affectionately. No one had ever cared for or noticed those marks before. "Thank you", he murmured against your forehead, a soft smile still present in his gratitude. His fingers moved to your back, silently asking for permission.

"Please", you responded, his face lighting up. The Irishman pressed a kiss along your jaw, before lifting your shirt over your head. You nodded, beckoning him to continue. His lips ignited goosebumps over your skin when they kissed slowly and sensually along your bare shoulders. With a twisting of his fingers, your bra clasp suddenly fell loose, the garment being completely discarded. Your brows rose. "You weren't kidding".

Another soft giggle slipped from Mitchell's lips, his hazel hues glittering with adoration when they met your own. "You're so, so beautiful", his hushed breath fanned over your skin. His cooler hands grazed over your bare back in loving caresses, moving his hand to cup one of your breasts. He only swiped his thumb over your bud, your form jolting forwards into his instinctively. His head ducked, laying feathersoft kisses on your lips, cascading down your throat again, his hands tracing soft patterns over the sensitive flesh of your stomach to the hem of your pants.

"Please, Mitchell", you begged softly, the Irishman wasting no time in pulling the button of your pants loose, allowing them to form a pile by your feet.

Mitchell guided you gently onto the mattress, his form coming to hover over your own. His large hand flattened over your stomach, his lips grazing the shell of your ear.

"Do you want me to—", he began, inching his fingers lower in suggestion.

"Yes". His soul warmed, the vampire relishing in how trusting and carefree you were within each other. He delighted in the gasp that tumbled from your lips when his digits slipped into your underwear, quickly becoming coated in your slick. Your nails clawed into the muscles of his arm when he moved them languidly between your folds and across that sensitive bundle of nerves. He bit down on his lip to fight his smile at feeling you writhing beneath him, letting him know wordlessly in your huffs and mutterings that he was hitting all the right places. His teeth nibbled against the shell of your ear pleasurably, hoping to get your folds slick enough in preparation for him. You fought your building high, begging Mitchell to stop. He obeyed, a soft laugh escaping him when your hands worked down the bare skin of his abdomen, to tug on the hem of his pants. The Irishman relented to your shared wants, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead. Both his boxers and jeans were removed together, quickly becoming discarded with the other items of your clothing.

Mitchell's soft lips seized your own, your hands coming to cradle his face. He braced himself on your mattress, lining himself up carefully. Once sure, his hips snapped upwards, your mouth falling open against his. His eyes fell closed in a squint, his dark brows furrowing as a shaky moan passed through his throat. Your breaths steadied as you became adjusted to him, his hips slowly beginning to rock into your own experimentally. You hummed eagerly, snatching his lips into your own. "Mitchell", his name tumbled from your lips, your fingers lacing into those thick curls as his pace quickened.

His kisses were searing, but gentle. There was mixtures of your teeth and his, pulling at each other as Mitchell's movements became deeper. The thirst for your blood had him tensing and grimacing, his lower lip being drawn between his teeth in concentration. A metallic taste hit his tongue; his own blood from biting down so hard. You helped to keep him grounded, allowing his hands to run across your open palms before pinning them to the mattress.

The Irishman's brows remained furrowed, focused on giving and sharing in your pleasure. Your breathy whimpers, soft curses and ragged gasping were all music to his ears. He found joy in the fact there was a deeper connection than just lust or a means to feed, as sex had often been for him. It was instead loving, slow and caring towards each other's needs. Mitchell finally felt that he could love and be loved equally in return.

A sharp gasp suddenly slipped from your throat, Mitchell hitting a place that had you seeing stars. Your back arched into him, your waist snapping up to meet his rhythmic movements. Feeling a heat tightening in his lower abdomen, Mitchell didn't allow himself to lose any self control over the side of him that hungered for your blood. His hazel eyes flickered open, ablaze with desire and adoration. Your heated breaths mingled, Mitchell's lips lowering again to your own. Gods, you really were beautiful.

With your heart now racing, you felt every wave of stimulation building up within you. You felt your eyes lolling back, Mitchell's movements allowing him to continuously drag across that spot in you without mercy. "Oh, Mitchell", you sighed, your gaze barely able to focus on his face.

Mitchell smiled. You were so close now, he could feel it. Your breaths had quickened and you were practically squirming with every thrust. His hands pinned yours higher, holding them down with only one. His now spare hand travelled between the small space between your moving bodies, a small cry of pleasure shooting from you when his digits began rubbing circles over your small bud.

Mitchell's tongue traced the skin beneath your ear, fighting the painful urges to feed from you whilst he pressed hot open-mouthed kisses to your flesh. His ministrations in time with his thrusts were too much, suddenly hitting a boiling point within you.

Trembling beneath him, your throat suddenly tightened, your mouth falling open in a silent scream. Your eyes squeezed shut, your back arching again into him as all the gravity in the room seemed to change. Mitchell's name was a hushed mantra on your lips, the winding tightness snapping within Mitchell's abdomen not long after. His body felt alight with a sudden wave of euphoria as a few strained grunts left his lips. Your name tumbled from his lips amidst a string of other profanities, slowly coming down from his high and allowing you to ride out yours.

When his movements ceased, your bodies remained tangled for a few moments, completely reduced to putty within each other's embrace. Mitchell's eyes had closed, suddenly shooting open in concern. There was no blood, well— he wiped at his mouth, the crimson wetness of his own apparent on his fingers. Fang marks were etched into his skin where he'd bitten down harshly. Shocked at his own restraint, he looked down at your peaceful expression with a growing smile. He'd done it.

Your (e/c) orbs flickered open, a lazy smile meeting your eyes when you cradled his face. Unbothered by the blood, your lips captured his, stroking your fingers over his skin when he returned the kiss. When your lips parted, your fingertips traced over his small wounds in concern. "It's fine", he insisted softly, noting your worry. "Hardly hurt".

Removing himself from you, Mitchell happily took it upon himself to carefully clean you both up with a warm cloth. Neither of you redressed, slipping under your covers to relax in each other's arms.

Pulling Mitchell's dark curls from his face, his head shifted from its place upon your chest to gaze up at you. His wounds on his mouth had miraculously healed after he'd cleaned them, your brows rising in wonder. "Was it hard for you?", you asked with great hesitation. Knowing what you were referring to, the Irishman felt that he should be honest.

"It was", he murmured, conceding that his predatory side was quite painful to control. You took a breath, your lips parting. A silent debate on whether or not to ask.

"If I wasn't human, would that make things easier for you?". Catching on to what you meant, Mitchell's brows furrowed,

"Why would you ever want to give up what you are to become like me??".

"To lessen your pain, to be with you without risk of injury or loss". A kind, yet sad smile dawned on the Irishman's strong features, his hand reaching to sweep the fringe from your face.

"All are human", he whispered, his hand retreating from your face to curl his arm around you affectionately. "You don't want this life, (Y/n). And I won't give it to you".

"Why not??", you asked quietly. Hazel hues danced over your features, his fingers drawing imaginary patterns along the bare skin of your abdomen before grasping your hand. He placed it over his cheek, your thumb caressing over the stubble of his face. His head leant into your touch, his mouth pressing a kiss into your palm.

"I'd miss this warmth. Your skin is so beautifully warm to the touch. All that life; gone in an instant", he sighed, squeezing your hand. Mitchell moved his head to lay it where your heart thrummed beneath your skin. "I'd miss hearing this sound too. It's soothing".

You couldn't help the smile that came to your face, having no prior idea that he'd appreciated these things so much. Whilst you swept your hand over his hair in careful strokes, he continued, "(Y/n), this life took all of that and more from me. I'm just thankful that this life gave me you, but I won't let it take that from me too".

"I'm not going anywhere", you assured him, softly laying a comforting kiss to the top of his hair.

The haunting image of Lauren's hatred filled his mind. Mitchell couldn't handle it if ever you looked at him in that way, the way she had. The thought terrified him to no end, his eyes furiously blinking away the tears forming in his gaze. "This life changes you, (Y/n). I wouldn't wish it on anyone", he mumbled, pressing a kiss to the skin of your chest. "You're perfect as you are. And I love you".

Your embrace tightened around the Irishman, both your eyes and his coming to a restful close. "I love you too, Mitchell".

In the many days and weeks that followed, your relationship with the vampire flourished. George and Annie were overjoyed when the both of you made your status known. Mitchell was now sure of where he belonged in the world and what he'd do to protect those people closest to him.

Foolishly thinking that Herrick had growing morals and that he'd offer his family protection, Mitchell had made the decision to accept the proposal. The blonde's jaw almost hit the floor when Mitchell marched through the doors of his office at B. Edwards.

"They won't be harmed? I have your word??". Smiling broadly, Herrick replied,

"Of course".

"I'm in".

The vampires welcomed Mitchell back into their coven with open arms. It was blissful at first, to be part of his own kind again. The Irishman hated the stories told about his early days as a vampire, having no choice but to give in to his urges to survive back then. It was a time he'd rather forget.

Herrick respected that Mitchell still wished not to feed on humans, hoping that he would come around at some point. The blonde was recruiting more people, saving them from the cusp of death to live in his growing underground society. Mitchell gave him the edge and reputation he needed just by standing in the room. It was perfect.

Until you'd found out from Josie, another former lover of Mitchell's from the 60s, that Mitchell was getting himself into a lot of trouble. She'd met you only a week or two ago, over the moon that Mitchell was pursuing a strong relationship with yourself. Now she worried that it would all end in tatters if he went on any longer with Herrick and his goons.

You'd had no idea, alike to Annie and George, that Mitchell had joined Herrick. Feeling as if your trust had somewhat been betrayed in him not telling you, you had also grown confused. "He hates Herrick— why— what could make him join that man?", you sputtered. Josie's hand clasped your own.

"Mitchell does a lot for those he loves", she sighed wistfully. "He tried to get Herrick to convince me to join them, in their society. To stop my cancer. As honourable as it seemed, he knows as well as I that death is human".

Your mouth fell open slightly, the truth striking you almost painfully. This sounded so different from the Mitchell you knew. Your mind drifted back to his words to you in the afterglow of your first lovemaking. It seemed so long ago now. Josie squeezed your hand. "You need to stop him, (Y/n). Find him. Get him back. I'll tell George". You nodded, returning the gesture before breaking into a sprint down the street.

Every thought you had was honed on Mitchell. You had an inkling to his whereabouts, George having mentioned something about a 'B. Edwards' place to you once. You prayed that you'd get there in time, a sinking feeling beginning to pool in the pits of your stomach.

Your legs burned with fatigue and your lungs gasped for air in the cool winds of the day, your journey leading you through many streets. The funeral home was only a handful of blocks from your house, the sign with 'B. Edwards', like an eery archway over the gates when you'd spotted it. Fury and adrenaline coursed through your system, not caring or thinking when you passed through the glass doors of the establishment.

An elderly woman sat to your left upon entry, her pale eyes fixed on a magazine. The air was unusually cold and musty, every piece of furniture or decor an antique. Your entry sparked the male seated at the desk to rise to his feet. You instantly recognised his face. Seth. Your mind flashed to that night from months ago and it seemed his did as well when a sly grin grew onto his features. "Nice to see you again, Lovely—", he started.

"Where's Mitchell?". Your question had the growing fire in his eyes dimming into a scowl.

"She certainly gets her manners from Mitchell, don't you think?", Herrick laughed upon entering the room, responding to you before his counterpart could. Your eyes darted to the blonde male who offered you a charming smile. "Come now, we're all friends here".

"Just tell me where he is and I'll be on my way", you snapped.

" 'On your way'??", he repeated, wholeheartedly amused. "That just wouldn't be good hospitality, Darling". Your teeth clenched within your mouth, fighting the urge to scream in frustration. "Nanna has made us some lovely biscuits and tea! We'd be so delighted to have you!". The way he'd offered it was so lighthearted, anyone else would've thought him kind. You knew better.

Seth rounded the desk all too quickly, flanking your right to ensure you couldn't escape. The elderly lady, you came to realise, was the vampire Herrick had referred to. She eyed you keenly from where she sat, also making sure you couldn't run. Seth's hand was at the ready, hovering behind you to grip your arm should it be necessary.

With reluctance, you forced a smile, Herrick delighting in your decision to join them without struggle. You marched forwards at your own accord, slowly realising that every set of eyes in this establishment belonged to a vampire. The way they stared was so unlike Mitchell's glance. His was soft, kind. Every gaze here was fixed on you like a vulture. Some part of you wished you'd brought a weapon or a stake with you before rushing into this situation.

Herrick lead you with a kind hand on the small of your back to a room with biscuits and tea laid upon the table. "Have a seat there, Love", he gestured to a comfortable seat, the anxiety and regret rising into your throat. Still, Herrick's voice remained feathersoft, unintimidating. His touch had given you chills, his blue gaze seeming to see through you. Two security guards, also vampires, flanked Herrick. Seth quickly left your side to attend the front desk again once you were seated.

The blonde poured you a cup of tea, adding but a sugar or two before passing it across the dining table. "Pick yourself some biscuits, Love", he grinned. "Don't be shy, now". You didn't trust the tea or the biscuits, afraid they'd been drugged or laced with something malicious. Vampires were immune to poisons and drugs, after all.

"Where's Mitchell?", you repeated your question, more gentle than it had been with Seth. "I want to speak with him".

"Mitchell's just out for the moment. When he's back, I'll give him straight to you". His response was careful and you didn't trust his words in the slightest. "I'm sure he'd appreciate us taking care of you. After all, it's what he wanted?".

"Liar", you muttered, his brows raising.

"How you wound me, (Y/n)", he sighed with some disappointment. "I wasn't lying. How else do you think I managed to convince him to join us?". He took a sip of his tea, eyeing you from the lip of his cup. "Goodness knows why he protects you. You clearly hurt him more than your words could ever hurt me". Your brows creased.

"What are you talking about?". A soft laugh slipped from the blonde,

"What? Hasn't he told you?". Herrick took your silence as his answer, growing further amused with the situation. "He's in pain, Sweetheart. Every day. To be near a human is agonising enough for a few moments. Mitchell has to live with you, 24/7". His blue gaze trailed over your features. "It's a wonder he hasn't given in yet or turned you".

A thickness formed in your throat, the guilt swirling in your eyes. Mitchell had never mentioned such pain to you. Was it really that difficult for him??

"He told me he'd never give me this life", you shot back. "That this life changes you. And as far as I'm concerned, I'll take his advice in not wanting it". Herrick pursed his lips, a slow sigh exhaling from his nostrils. Softly, his head shook in some semblance of dejection.

"Now that is a pity", he sighed. "But to be expected". Your brows furrowed again in confusion. "Mitchell has truly got you wound around that thumb of his to blind you so easily from the gift that is immortality".

"Gift?", you scoffed. "It took everything from him!".

"Is that what he told you?", Herrick huffed in amusement, beginning to drum his fingers on the table. "The same man who would pass immortality out like pamphlets on the street? It's thanks to Mitchell that our recruitment is up, Sweetheart".

You blinked profusely, stiffening up in a sense of disbelief. Yet, there was no dishonesty in Herrick's keen blue gaze as it scanned over you the way Seth's had. It was unsettling.

"You poor girl", he mused, his grin becoming almost wolfish. "How misplaced your loyalty has been. It can have better uses. With any luck".

"What do you mean?". And that's when you noted the rhythm of Herrick's fingers. It almost sounded like a heartbeat, progressively growing quicker. Taunting you.

The guards that flanked the blonde's side slowly shifted, your arms gripping your chair and eyeing them in nervousness. "Listen", Herrick whispered, drumming his fingers louder. "That's your heartbeat, (Y/n). Savour that sound. It just may very well be the last time you hear it".

________________________________________

I hope you all enjoyed this second instalment with a part three coming soon!! As always, any and all feedback is welcome!! If you want to be a part of my taglist, check out my masterlist and let me know what you'd like to be tagged in!! Thank you all for stopping by and supporting my works!! ❤❤

#being human #being human uk #john mitchell #john mitchell x reader #mitchell x reader #john mitchell smut #fanfiction #aidan turner #gif not mine #credit to creator

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edenesth · 10 months

Text

Undying Bonds (Part 6)

Pairing: Hongjoong x fem!reader, Seonghwa x fem!reader

AU: zombie apocalypse au

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: What could be worse than being separated from the love of your life in a zombie apocalypse? Hongjoong was forced to leave you behind with his friend, Seonghwa, as he ventures out alone to search for the rest of his missing group members. Will Hongjoong be successful in his solo mission to find his members? Will he be able to return to you unscathed? And what happens when you're stuck with his caring best friend, who is hopelessly in love with you, for too long?

Part 5 | Masterlist | Part 7

"Lix hyung, I-I can't do this. Especially not to the pretty noona, she's been nothing but kind to us!"

Felix felt his blood boil at the younger's words, he knew this would happen. He'd protested and told Bang Chan again and again that sending the newest and youngest member of the team out with him was a bad idea. Jeongin was much too innocent and soft-hearted to pull this off, he reminded Felix greatly of his old self that was once just as harmless before the world destroyed every last bit of that innocence.

Let's just say he's learned the hard way that kindness and doing good get you absolutely nowhere in this cruel world.

So did the rest of Stray Kids, that was how the gang was formed in the first place. The boys were a bunch of misfits who strayed from the standards of society, they didn't want to be like everyone else; always putting on a façade and trying to be someone who they weren't. People act like saints on the outside when deep down, they were all just monsters with different kinds of greed.

If there was anything that the eldest members of Stray Kids taught Felix, it would be that humans are all the same. Even the kindest ones you see now, those were just people who have yet to see the dark side of humanity and the world. And once they have, they would all eventually understand just how utterly pointless it was to have sympathy, goodwill and compassion.

To put it simply, in this selfish world, only the selfish succeed.

Even if the world was different now, what remained the same was the fact that only power and wealth truly mattered.

That was exactly why Stray Kids thrived in this environment. They had power so long as they were feared by the remaining survivors of the apocalypse and all the wealth from the resources that they have attained through their many 'operations' just like the current one, where you, Seonghwa and Mingi were the latest targets.

Jeongin cowered away from the scowl forming on his elder teammate's face, "That's the point though, isn't it? We only target fools like these, did you think we were going to succeed if we were to approach survivors who wouldn't even bat an eyelash our way?" Felix glowered softly, not wanting to risk you or Mingi overhearing any of the words exchanged between them while you were still distracted by Seonghwa's injury.

"Pull yourself together, Jeongin. Don't make me repeat myself again. One more foolish word from your mouth and I'll make sure Minho hyung hears about this." Eyes rounding at the mention of the scariest member of the gang, the youngest gulps before nodding quickly, "Y-yes, hyung."

Under different circumstances, Felix would have felt bad for Jeongin or even shared the same sentiments as the younger male.

Sure, you were all very selfless for going out of your way to save them even when you had no idea who they were. Not to mention, you were ready to take them in and willingly share your already limited supplies knowing there'd be two extra mouths to feed.

The old him wouldn't have hesitated to pay you back with his life if needed but the current Felix would simply thank you for your generosity by enjoying your resources with his team later on once this was done and over with.

He cursed to himself when he spotted Mingi approaching the two of them like he was on a mission, he could tell the tall male was growing suspicious of them. He only hoped that neither of you realises the zombie that almost got Seonghwa killed was actually physically enhanced by a unique solution cooked up by their resident genius, Seungmin.

This was a tactic they have been actively utilising all this while in hopes of eliminating their targets early on to avoid the whole victim act that he and Jeongin now had to put on.

Felix might have celebrated a little too soon when witnessing Seonghwa get attacked by their very own super zombie, he couldn't hide his disappointment when Mingi took their masterpiece out with a single blow of his axe to the neck. Lucky for him, you were too caught up in your silly emotions to notice.

It truly was a shame that Seonghwa didn't die, the dude was obviously a solid fighter and it was always survivors with strong willpower like this that they wished to get rid of first.

He cleared his throat and focused on fixing his facial expressions to get his act together, eyeing Jeongin to make sure the younger does the same as they sense Mingi's intimidating footsteps approaching.

Oh boy, here we go.

This was probably the longest you've gone without having even a single thought of Hongjoong going through your mind. All you could see and care about at the moment was Seonghwa.

Contrary to what Mingi thinks, now more than ever, you acknowledge how much Park Seonghwa meant to you. Even long before the outbreak of the zombie virus, you weren't blind to his constant presence in your life. He was always there for you, especially during the times when Hongjoong couldn't.

You always knew you could count on him, no matter what you needed him for. You used to think to yourself about what a good friend he was to you and to all of the boys too. He was just a reliable person that everyone naturally goes to when in need of comfort or stability. But you weren't able to fully comprehend the extent of your reliance on him until this moment.

The thought of a life without him around, it terrified you tremendously.

It must have been hours but you've honestly lost track of how long you remained seated by Seonghwa's side with no intentions of leaving him at all.

You wanted to be there for him the same way he's always wordlessly been there for you. You wanted to be the first one he sees when he regains consciousness, the same way he's always the first one to hold you whenever you needed comfort. It was your turn to repay him for all the care he's so tirelessly invested in you.

Your crying ceased a while ago and you chose instead to focus on his even breathing, it calmed you to know he was at least getting the rest he deserved after all the disruption you've caused just the night before.

Relax, he's alive. He'll be just fine, he must be.

Hearing the muffled sound of voices talking from the small gap of the door that Mingi left open to the back room, you were reminded of Felix and Jeongin's presence.

Sighing in complete exhaustion, you decide to leave the boys to your friend's care for now. You were certain that Mingi would treat them well, he was known as a gentle giant within your group after all.

Or so you thought.

Ignorance sure is bliss. You were oblivious to the interrogation taking place outside, just the way Mingi had intended.

Shifting your position to lay comfortably beside Seonghwa, you lifted a hand to fondly sweep some hair out of his face before pressing a small kiss to his temple, "I know I've always asked you what I'd do without you, but Hwa… I don't think I ever want to find out the answer to that," You whispered, tiredly resting your head against his shoulder, "Just please… please stay with me."

It didn't take long before the sound of his steady breathing eventually lulled you to sleep, you were spent from the emotional rollercoaster as well as all the crying you've done for the past few hours. Fortunately, you slept like a baby this time around with no nightmares whatsoever to forcefully wake you.

By the time you got up, it was already dark out with little light shining in through the nearby window and from the small gap that Mingi left open earlier.

More importantly, you realised that Seonghwa was finally conscious as soon as you were done rubbing your eyes to clear your vision. A gasp escaped your lips at the playful but weak grin adorning his face, "Oh my- Hwa! Y-you're up, h-how are you feeling? Do you need anything?" You scrambled to get to your feet, about to run out and call for Mingi.

He sighed, moving to grasp your arm loosely in one hand, "I need you to calm down first, woman."

You groaned in frustration at the amused tone in his voice before plopping down beside him, "How are you so chill about all this, Hwa? You almost died! Do you know how scared I was? Y-you think this is… funny?" Your voice broke towards the end of your sentence and you crumbled into tears once again, bawling into your hands.

You cried harder when you felt him slowly circle his arms around you the best that he could despite his injury, pushing your head into the familiar spot of his neck.

"I… I told you I'd be fine, didn't I? It doesn't hurt that badly anyway, you did a great job patching me up. I'm sorry, I just… didn't want to worry you further, you have enough on your plate as it is."

You pulled away slightly to frown at him, "And you don't? I want to worry for you! You're always like this, putting others before yourself and I hate it when you do this. Don't diminish your own pain like that, Hwa. You deserve care too, just as much as you give out, if not more."

Seonghwa was lost for words when he heard what you had to say.

Quickly wiping your tears away at his silence, you took the opportunity to check on his wound dressing to ensure it was still in good condition.

He watched your delicate movements intently while wondering to himself if he's done anything horrible in his past life to deserve this. Your every action does nothing but continue to further deepen his feelings for you and yet, you belonged to another.

All of a sudden, he was having second thoughts about his previous decision to give up confessing his feelings for you. The internal battle with himself stops the moment you took his hand in yours, "Hwa, you must understand how much you mean to the boys. They can't lose you; you have to put yourself first too."

With his free hand, he tilted your head up by the chin to make you look straight into his eyes, "And what about you? Do I mean that much to you too?"

Seonghwa's heart beat loudly against his chest as he observed your reaction, your eyes trembled before blinking rapidly, "I… of course, you do! What are you, an idiot?! Have you not been listening to me this whole time?" He bit his lip at the sight of you growing flustered, perhaps it's time you find out about the way he felt.

He gave your hands that were still in his hold a squeeze, "You're so cruel, you know that? How can you keep doing this to me?" His words came out in a whisper but you froze, hearing him loud and clear, "Hwa, I-I don't… w-what do you mean?" Seonghwa gazed deeply at you, his free hand moving to cup your cheek softly.

This is it. It's now or never.

But just as Seonghwa opened his mouth to speak, "I-"

"Hyung?"

Both of your heads snapped up to see Mingi by the door. You instantly pulled your hands out of his grasp, as if being caught doing something scandalous. You didn't miss the hurt expression on Seonghwa's face, it broke your heart but you looked away from him quickly to make way for the younger male who rushed over.

"Oh, you're here, Mingi. I'll go keep watch then." You smiled briefly at the two before slipping out of the room, feeling a certain someone's eyes on you the whole time.

"Sannie… H-he's infected."

Those were words that none of the boys ever wanted to hear but it was the brutal reality that they had to face.

Yunho gestured grimly towards the barricade he built from the tables and chairs in the classroom, "He hasn't fully turned yet but… he was the one who insisted I kept him in there so that he wouldn’t…" The poor boy choked up, he couldn't finish the sentence.

Yeosang stared soullessly at where San was kept while Wooyoung shook his head in denial, sobbing as quietly as he could into his palm. Hongjoong blinked back his tears in disbelief, "H-how… how did it happen, Yunho?"

The tall male sniffled and sighed deeply, "He was already bitten during the attack where we got separated and he was so scared, he kept it from me until we settled down here. Hyung, I… god, I don't know what to do. I'm so sorry, I should've protected him better."

The leader pulled his friend into his embrace, "It's not your fault. I never want you to blame yourself for any of this again, you did your best and I'm so proud of you for staying strong."

Hongjoong couldn't imagine how agonising it must have been for poor Yunho to be here the entire time and to witness his friend slowly lose himself, turning into a zombie bit by bit.

After the guys have calmed down slightly from the initial shock, Hongjoong squeezed his eyes shut tightly before asking, "C-can I talk to him?" Yunho nodded slowly, "Yeah, you can try. He may still be able to hear you when he's- w-when he comes back to being himself in between sometimes."

Those words broke Wooyoung all over again. He refused to believe this, how could this possibly happen to his best friend? San, of all people, did not deserve this. He was the literal human embodiment of sunshine, how were they ever going to cope without him by their side? He wished it was him who was bitten instead, he'd do anything to switch fates with his friend.

He sobbed even harder when he felt Yeosang's arms enclosed around him, realising that he'll never be able to feel any of San's hugs again.

Yeosang patted his friend's back in a soothing manner while he tries to wrap his head around what was happening. This was not meant to happen, they were supposed to be happily reunited. They were supposed to all be together again by the end of this journey, just like old times. His heart ached to think of you and Seonghwa who were still waiting for their return, how were they going to tell you all of this?

They all fell silent when Hongjoong began moving closer to where San was being kept.

The leader felt his heart drop at the sight of what was once his friend, tears welling up in his eyes as he bit back a sob. The disturbing alterations to San's appearance caused by the virus were apparent.

The first thing Hongjoong noticed was his pale and clammy skin, no longer its usual healthy colour, it was turning into a sickly greyish hue. He could also spot some of the open wounds developed due to the spreading infection. But nothing pained him more than staring into San's dull and lifeless eyes that were once full of life, reflecting his loss of humanity.

God, why... Why did it have to be him?

As if sensing a living being in front of him, San lets out a grunt on instinct and mindlessly reached out towards his hyung whom he can't seem to recognise. He only felt the craving for human flesh and brain intensifying. The barricade of tables and chairs that he himself personally requested Yunho built doing an excellent job of keeping him away from taking a bite out of his friend.

If Hongjoong had to list the most excruciatingly painful moments in his life, this would definitely be a top contender.

Hongjoong no longer bothered to hold in the tears that were now freely rolling down his cheeks, "S-Sannie? It's me, it's Hongjoong hyung. H-hey, look at me. You know who I am, don't you?" He clenched his fists in anguish, watching as San slowly cease his movements at the sound of the leader's voice.

"I'm here now, Sannie. Yeosang and Wooyoung too, we're all here. S-sorry that we came so late. I-I'm so sorry I failed you."

He could no longer control his emotions at this point.

Each sob racked his body, causing his shoulders to tremble uncontrollably. His fists clutched painfully against his chest, trying to contain the unbearable ache he felt inside. But the pain was so overwhelming that he couldn't keep it confined. His cries echoed in the room, resonating with the heaviness of loss and despair.

The rest of the members watched in silence, their hearts aching and endless tears streaming down their faces. They'd never seen the leader so vulnerable before, he was always so calm and composed no matter what happens.

His current state reflected the gravity of the situation.

"H-hyung…"

Everyone's heads snapped up in an instant at San's voice croaking out, "I… I'm s-so scared…" Their hearts broke at that.

They couldn't imagine how horrifying it must have been for San when he registers the changes in his own body and the fact that he had to go through most of it alone.

Even though Yunho was in the same room the entire time, he told his friend to stay as far away as possible. He wanted to spare his friend from the sight of his now hideous self, he knows it can't be easy for them to see him like this.

San held a trembling hand up to stop his friends when he sees them attempting to get closer, "N-no… s-stay away, I can f-feel myself slipping away. I-I can't control this hunger for m-much longer…" His voice broke, tears falling at the sight of his friends being in so much pain because of him.

"You guys, I-I love you all so so much… Hongjoong hyung, Y-Yunho, Yeosang, Wooyoungie… t-tell noona, Seonghwa h-hyung, Mingi and J-Jongho I love t-them too…" San paused to decide on his last words, he sensed the end nearing and was beginning to lose control.

He forced out a smile at Wooyoung nodding tearfully to his request, wanting nothing more than to put San at peace, "Of course. We love you too, Sannie!"

At that moment, all the wonderful memories that they have shared flash through his sane mind one last time. He would never forget his brothers, he wished to meet them all again even in his next life, if there ever was one.

His following words would haunt Hongjoong for the rest of his life.

"Hyung, p-please… e-end me, I d-don't want to turn into a m-monster… please…"

Wow, I actually cried writing this. Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this part and as always, thank you for reading!

Tag list: @aurasblue @tmtxtf @park-simphwa

#edenesth #undying bonds #ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #zombie apocalypse au #hongjoong x you #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x you #seonghwa x reader #ateez fic

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slashingdisneypasta · 1 year

Text

Oh my lord, I just saw a thing on Pinterest that said: Of course I cum fast- I'm a busy man. I have places to be.

And first of all- hysterical. 10 out of 10. This man will not be shamed.

Second of all, of course- Here are the Horror Men I think would abandon you after cumming themselves VS The ones that would never leave you high and dry like that (Indented):

Warnings: Orgasm denial, selfish fucking/loving

(Most of) These men in this post:

Animal The Cannibal: If Manny calls on him I bet he would go 😅 Sorryyyyy.

Billy Loomis: He likes the feeling of you cumming around him too much for that. Don't get me wrong- he is a pretty selfish lover. It's just that, part of his pleasure happens to come from yours.

Bo Sinclair: Nahhhhh. It's not that he's wanting to be kind to you- he just thinks it's a mark of a sissy if he can't get his lover to cum for him. It's for bragging rights.

Bubba Sawyer: Yeahh... sorry Y/N. If one of his brothers call on him he will ALWAYS go.

Candyman: Look, its not always!, so don't get me wrong- Daniel is a good lover. I'm sure he is. But at times he just... doesn't have the time 😅

Captain Spaulding: Sorry doll, he's got like 3 insane middle aged children running about not cleaning up their messes and he's gotta get on that shit XD

Chop Top Sawyer: If you've got his attention, which you certainly do if you're engaging in sex with him, then he's all yours. He's all for you.

Chucky Lee Ray: He's full of bullshit but he is also quite busy so... take this as you will.

Dr Suave: Ain't nothin' gonna keep him from the face you're gonna make sweet thing... (*Cough* Sweet talker)

Drayton Sawyer: GENUINLEY REAL BUSY!! He'd stay if he could!! Don't sulk though, he'll get pissy at you.

Freddy Krueger: Damn, you're waking up! Well- Goodluck!~ (This asshole)

Harper Alexander: This man is Buckman's bitch- he literally pimps himself out for him 😅 So... yeah... Maybe you could talk to Buckman? Ask him not to call on Harper during the hours of 5-8pm On Friday Nights please??? 😆

Inkubus: Not his style.

Jack Dante: It depends on where his head is. It's hard to keep him in one place for long- if he's got his head in the clouds, his show is on, or he's got 'work to do', he'll literally just take care of himself and then fuck off. (If you manage to hold his attention though he WILL go until you fall asleep and then be there waiting when you wake up again. Stamina for days, I swear).

Jason Voorhees: The chances are, if you've gotten Jason to engage in... the act!!... then its gonna be all about you, anyway. He might not want to cum. It's in his nature to take care of the people he loves, anyway. So it's kinda the other way around, here... but voluntarily.

Jedidiah Sawyer: Too sweet. Plus, without a family shooing him this way and that anymore, he's suddenly got so much more time on his hands! Haha.

Jerry Dandridge: If he's sleeping with you his full attention is on you, and very little will have to power to stop it.

Kieran Wilcox: I love the idea that this too-cool-for-school, bastard guy- has really bad stamina (: So (: Yeah (:

Leslie Vernon: This asshole 😅 He's like sorry sweetie, I have preparations to do, *Forehead kiss*, love you so much, see ya! (He's being genuine, too. This is not a line because he's being lazy or selfish- He gets tunnel vision something fierce).

Lester Sinclair: I swear he hates leaving you unfulfilled, he really really hates it, but sometimes he just needs a little something to keep him happy before going to see his brothers and he doesn't have time to take care of you. He will when he gets back!! He promises.

Max Grief: He just wouldn't wanna leave you displeased. He wants to make you happy (:

Mayor Buckman: This one genuinly makes me laugh XD This man, oh my lord. Someone will knock on the door and he'll be OFF- forgetting in his eagerness to be do Town Duties that he first has duties to you goddamnit!-

Mental Manny: Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh what a dick. I'm sorry, but a dick appointment with Manny is just that- an appointment. And like any asshole with an appointment book he will decide once he's got what he wanted out of the transaction that oh, sorry, time is up! He has to go preach to some devotees for an hour. Bye sweetheart!~

Michael Myers: You just know he would. He does not care.

Mickey Altieri: Just not a selfish lover. It's equal with him.

Midnight Man: He might think its a game... 😅

Monty Hewitt: Well fuck, who knows what Hoyt might saw off him if he ignores him this time?? Please believe him when he says he wants to stay though, he really fucking does.

Otis B Driftwood: 'I'll go around back and take control, like I always fucken do'- Otis has clearly got a complex for being the Big Man in Charge, yes. And this is part of the reason he will leave you high and dry... the other part though is him being a DICK.

Patrick Bateman: Like Michael, he doesn't care. You can finish up yourself while he gets his keto dinner started.

Pennywise: I feel like with Penny its marathon sex or it's nothin', so yeah you're gonna cum. Do not fear.

Rocco The Clown: No way in hell will anyone ever tear him away from you. Oh, no. He (And I) would like to see them try.

SHERIFF HOYT: BECAUSE HE'S SHERIFF HOYT. HE IS EXACTLY THAT PINTEREST QUOTE.

Stu Macher: Would also genuinely say that 😅 Will answer every beck and call of Billy's and so thinks he's a very busy man. Call him back though and he probably will listen to you. Sorry Billy.

Stuart Lloyd: Okay- this man has probably not had sex for a LONG time- if ever. So yeah- even the muse gets ignored during that time XDD 😅 He~ is~ desperate (:

DBD The Clown: Sometimes he's too tired, which is understandable I suppose, but the asshole part?? He giggles about it. I mean, after that he coughs because he has not taken care of his body, but first he definetly giggles =_=

DBD The Deathslinger: He ain't as young as he once was- you just gotta give him a moment to breath XD Usually. Sometimes he will just smirk at you and leave, though. Cuz he's an EVIL COWBOY.

The Djinn: Not his style- Part 2.

The Man: He just would =_=

The Taxidermist: Like Stuart he is has been very dry for a very long time and he is NOT about to mess up this chance.

Thomas Hewitt: I would say he's the same as Bubba... but Thomas is a little tougher. Unless Luda Mae tried to call him away... you're good. He'll always finish you off before answering anyone else. (And Luda Mae wants grandbabies too much to pull him away XDD )

Vincent Sinclair: Sex is a whole night with him. He will have planned to have the whole evening and through the night without an interruption, so you don't run into any problems like this ^^

Winslow Foxworth Coltrane: Nahhhhhhh. He's likin' what's going on here too much. Not even Otis on cocaine with a gun will separate him from you.

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blackopals-world · 1 year

Text

You Made Me the Bad Guy

Overblot! FemYuu x Malleus

Malleus just wanted to keep her forever. He couldn't let her go. Yuu didn't agree to that and Malleus's interference leads to her snapping. She had her own will and she would be damned before she lets someone else rob her of it. (My rejection of yandere Malleus and weak MC. Enjoy my feminist propaganda)

Selfish.

All it could have been was selfish.

He said he did it because he was afraid of losing her. Of being alone.

But what about her and what she wanted? Why does his wants matter more?

Malleus locked her in a tower on the eve of her return home because "he couldn't live without her"

What a laugh. What a farce. He wasn't the only one hurting. What about being separated from the only home you've ever known? Not seeing your family or loved ones? Not knowing whether they share still looking or believed she died. She had a life there, a good one. She missed them every day and it was painful. He knew that pain. He knew how much she wished to be home and he took that from her.

In another life, if she was another person she would have stayed. If she had no ties or home to go back to. If she could fit into this foreign world. If she wanted this. She would have stayed. Agreed to be his queen. And live happily ever after.

But she's not that girl and was never going to be.

There was only so much tension that could be put on a thread before it snaps so people know to be careful. The same goes for people.

Malleus believed he could fix this. That with time she would forgive him and see this was for the best. But these were words only to comfort himself. She wasn't that kind no matter what Malleus thought.

So when he saw the black spire she created out of her tower he was surprised, but even the best people can be troubled enough to overblot. It probably happened because she felt like she wasn't good enough for him and desired more power to help herself. He felt a rush of excitement. Finally he would be the one to save her and talk her down just like she did for him and so many others. She would see him as her hero like he did with her. They would be happy together at last

But at the top of the tower, there was no Yuu. Only a being that took her form. It was shaped like a human but her body was made from black opal and wrapped in glass chains. Her face was Yuu's but gray with lips as black as rot. Her that once shined was now dripping black ink.

She didn't speak when she grabbed Malleus by the throat. He noticed that her nails had grown into claws made from mirror shards that tore at his neck.

"Beloved please! Stop this." He demanded wrenching her hand away. "This is not you."

"Traitor." Was all she hissed as she readied a spell in his direction. There was once a time where she would have been excited to do magic but that wonder had faded long ago.

The spell fired and black opal chains wrapped around Malleus's form.

"Traitor!" The Overblot cried, inky tears in her eyes.

"I don't understand! How did I betray you!? You betrayed me! You tried to leave but you promised to stay with me!" He struggled against the chains.

The more he struggled the more he couldn't breathe. In those moments he remembered.

"I don't understand. Why would someone do that?" Malleus asked after the movie. It had been his first and it was such an exhilarating experience.

"Hmm." She thought for a moment trying to find the words "I think it's because hurt people, hurt other people."

"And that made them evil?" Malleus didn't understand who the villain really was.

"Made them human. More like us. Flawed. I don't think there is such a thing as being evil when perspectives change everything." She sat on a bench and beckoned Malleus to join.

"I just hate to think of growing to hate someone over such petty reasons," Malleus said sitting down.

"I don't think it was petty. It's not the action, it's the loss of trust." Yuu frowned " Trust is hard to gain and easy to lose."

"Do you trust me?" Malleus asked tilting his head to the side as Yuu giggled at his expression.

"Of course I do, you're my friend. Don't worry Mal. You stick by me and I'll stick by you. Promise." She held up her pinkie for the strange ritual of promises she taught him.

Malleus felt his heart twist. He had been so happy at that moment. He thought she would always want to be with him.

"Mal...*hic*" She had cried herself sick again. She always did when she remembered her family.

"It's okay Yuu. I'm right here." He hugged her close as she wrapped her arms around him. Malleus thought of himself as easing her pain. But now he couldn't be sure.

When he looked at her ink-stained form he saw anger in her eyes but also pain. She was hurting. She was her because of him. He did this.

"Yuu, I'm so sorry. I didn't want this." Malleus apologeticly lowered his head.

The grip of the chain when slack as her face broke into a sob. A pained wail echoed in the desolate room. Her inky lip shifted into a snarl.

"It's too late, you Traitor! I thought you cared about me!" The chains tightened again this time digging into his skin and burning.

"Yuu, I'm sorry! I did it because I love you! Surely you understand what it's like to be with someone you love." Malleus watched her grey cheeks turn red.

"I'd do and I did. I should rip you apart for that alone." The chains disappeared as she walked to the far side of the tower towards the only window she was allowed.

She gazed out of it for a moment before looking back at Malleus conflicted about what to do next. Her eyes were hungry with a desire to rip out his heart just so he could understand what she felt but also to take what he so desperately wanted to give her.

"Malleus Draconia, never appear before me again. I'll find my own way home." Yuu said coldly as she placed a hand on the window glass. It shattered the moment her claws touched it. "If you really want to know. I would have shared how you feel. I liked you. But seeing how things are, I hate you. I will always hate you. Just remember that this is all your fault."

With that, she was gone. Escaped into the ether. Lilia told Malleus that she could be found but Malleus never looked into it. He sowed these seeds. Now he can only reap what grew from it.

He was no longer the short-sighted youth he once was.

He knows she still lives. No longer human but something entirely different. Endlessly searching for what she lost. Stories of her escapades stretch far and wide, from who she used to be to who she became. NRC even built a statue of her and her old dorm was now a real dorm full of students who wish to be like her. Good kids who idolized rebellion and anarchy.

Malleus wished for her happiness, something he should have wanted over his in the first place. But he knows she can never know peace. Not anymore.

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