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prythianpages · 2 months

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Catching Fire | Eris x Reader

summary: When word of Sawyer's nightly endeavors reaches Beron, he summons you both to his office. Meanwhile, Eris is away on a secret mission where he discovers a troubling truth about you.

warnings: violence, mentions of blood and homophobia (bc Beron is an asshole toward his son); A hint of dark Eris torturing your father

a/n: This is part five to my Like An Angel Series, where Eris falls in love with his brother's betrothed. I do try to write each imagine as a stand alone but I don't think this one can.

Eris moves with silent grace as he steps out from the shadows and into the grounds of your family’s home. His father had sent him to Dawn to handle some unfinished business with Nuan so of course, he took advantage and paid the Night Court a visit too. Now, on his way back home, he decided to stop and pay your father a surprise visit.

Determination burns bright in his eyes as he observes the guards patrolling the perimeter. He reaches for his bow and arrow, placing an enchantment over the sound. Each arrow released is laced with a poison, weak so it doesn’t kill but strong enough to knock someone out for hours. A slight smirk plays at the corner of his lips as the guards fall one by one.

Given his status, he knows he could’ve requested to see your father at the gates and easily been granted it. But it’s important that no one but your father knows of his visit.

Eris allows the moonlight to guide him down the cobblestone path, leading to the entrance of your house. He uses his magic to unlock the front door and slips in.

The hour is late but Eris keeps his senses on high alert, in case there are still servants lurking through the halls. Your house is great and vast, adorned with expensive furniture and sculptures. One would think this was a lord’s house and not a merchant’s. He can’t help but notice the fabrics wrapped around some furniture and the random boxes littering the floors. Some boxes are filled with stuff, others still empty. Almost as if your father is planning to move.

He stops for a brief moment when he finds himself in the sitting room. Torches line the walls, enveloping the room in a dim glow. It’s bright enough to discern the family portrait hanging on top of the mantelpiece. Immediately, his eyes are drawn to you. A softness envelops his features, his heart skipping a beat.

It’s only been a couple of days since he had to leave the Forest house and he misses you already.

As he looks at the painting, he admires how the artist managed to capture the brightness of your presence well. Beside you stands an older female, unmistakably your mother. The resemblance between the two of you is striking and the notable absence of resemblance in all ways to the male seated in the portrait leaves Eris feeling a sense of relief.

He forces himself to carry on, tearing his gaze off the painting. His keen senses guide him down a certain hallway and as he walks forward, he takes in every detail. It becomes apparent that the portrait in the sitting room must have been the most recent, for older depictions of your family adorn the walls of the hallway he traverses, each one offering a glimpse of you through the ages.

When he finally reaches the door he was looking for, he takes a deep breath and then reaches for the handle.

Casting a glance toward Lady Raelynn, you take a deep breath and then mimic her stance. True to her words, she had taken it upon herself to teach you how to shoot a bow and arrow. Her movements are graceful and effortless as she notches an arrow onto her bow.

“You’re so good at this,” you say in admiration when the arrow hits its target.

“I’ve had centuries of practice, my dear,” Lady Raelynn smiles warmly at you, easing her stance. Though subtle, a hint of sadness flickers in her russet eyes once more, causing a pang of guilt to tighten your brow.

During your first practice session, you had asked her why she pursued archery, dancing around the real question you had meant to ask…How did Beron allow it? Considering the strict standards of the Autumn Court, you're certain that archery wasn't deemed appropriate for ladies such as yourselves.

Her answer had been short and simple, “it saved my life once.” You’ve heard some stories from the war centuries ago, how Lady Raelynn’s family estate was attacked by Hybern’s forces and she was the only one to escape. You didn’t ask any questions after that, sensing it was a sensitive topic.

“Your turn.”

You nod and then steady yourself. This time, you’re relieved to find your hands steady, lacking the nervous tremble that plagued previous sessions. Slowly, you draw the string of your bow back and then release. It sails through the air, missing the target by a small margin. With a sigh, you lower your bow. You were so close.

“Is that the best you got?”

Your head whips around. You recognize the voice but still, you can’t help but hope maybe you heard wrong. Reality deflates your hope as your gaze falls upon a disheveled Sawyer. Some irrational part of you had been clinging to the hope that it was Eris. Even though he had left a note for you in the book he promised to bring you, telling you he would be gone for a week. The note had burst into ashes after you read it but the words he had written were still engraved in your mind.

Angel, I’m afraid I have some business to partake in for the next week. Allow my book to keep you company and reach out to my mother, should you need help. Until then, I’ll be thinking about you and those sweet lips of yours.

-E

Sawyer lets out a tut in disapproval, pulling you out of your thoughts. He seats himself on one of the lawn chairs in the gardens, squinting at the blinding light of the sun. His hair is a mess, bags under his eyes are heavy and the clothes he wears are wrinkled and not fitting for a male of his status. If High Lord Beron could see him now, you fear what would become of him.

“Sawyer.” Lady Raelynn says in what appears to be a warning, a frown etching onto her features as she takes in the sight of her son.

Your nose crinkles as the stench of alcohol and something else reaches you. He must’ve gone out. Again. When you had bargained with Sawyer and offered to cover for his night endeavors, you hadn’t expected how frequent they would be. Sawyer was becoming reckless, as if each night closer to your wedding drove him further and further into despair. You weren’t handling it well either. The judgmental looks sent your way often followed by scoffs and rude comments as you walked around the Autumn estate weren’t helping your situation.

“What a shame,” they’d say. “I heard Sawyer hates her.”

“There must be something wrong with her. Or him.”

“Clearly, she’s not worthy. I doubt she’ll last long.”

Your fingers tighten against your bow. You didn’t care that Sawyer had no interest in you nor for the rumors that circled around him of his preferences. It was the fact that he was being careless with his actions and you worried about what it would mean for the both of you, if the High Lord finds out.

Sawyer’s lips tug up into a smirk. He leans back onto the chair, grabbing a ripe red apple from the basket of fruit laid out on the table beside him. With newfound focus and determination, you raise your bow. You’re thinking before even acting, and in the blink of an eye, the arrow is soaring. It pierces straight through the apple in Sawyer’s grasp, sending it flying and pinning it to a nearby tree.

“I was going to eat that!”

Your eyes widen in surprise, the bow falling from your grasps and onto the floor. You didn’t miss. Your mouth parts, the beginning of an apology about to roll off your tongue. Not toward Sawyer but toward Lady Raelynn.

“Good aim,” she says before you can even speak, soothing your worry.

She then approaches Sawyer, a disapproving look on her face. She brushes his hair back and gives a small tug, tilting his head to look up at her. “Please go bathe and freshen up before anyone else sees you. Or worse, your father.”

Hurried footsteps draw near and immediately, a tight knot twists in your stomach as a servant who cannot look any of you in the eyes comes forth. She keeps her head bow, shaky hands clasped before her.

“High Lord Beron requests Lord Sawyer’s and Lady Y/n’s presence.”

It's already too late.

Eris’s teeth clench as he reads over a letter that had been left in an open box atop your father’s desk. It’s a letter addressed to his father and as his eyes skim through the page, he feels a dark heat seeping into his bones.

Dear High Lord Beron,

By the time this letter reaches you, I will be far out from your grasp. I sense you’ll be angry but I urge you to not bother looking for me. The thing you seek most is already with you. It’s been with you all this time, coursing through my daughter’s veins. The essence of the sundrop flower lives within her. Not the original intention but when my wife found out I planned to sell it to the highest bidder, she decided to foolishly take matters into her own hands.

Attached to this letter is a journal where I’ve kept all records of the sundrop flower and my daughter. Do with this information as you will. She’s all yours now.

Best wishes,

Jareth

Eris's hands are immediately reaching out for the journal that lies in the box, fingers tightening around it so harshly his knuckles are turning white. He opens it, eyes skimming over the pages and reads just enough to know what’s so precious about this sundrop flower.

When he closes the book, he’s furious. It was no surprise to him to confirm that your father was not a good male. However, it was surprising that he sold you, his one and only daughter, out. He probably killed your mother, too. With the journal still in his hand, he quietly finds and sneaks his way to your father’s room with an urge to seek out more answers.

The sun is beginning to rise when Eris makes himself comfortable on the grand armchair. It had originally been facing the window but he moved it to face your father, who was currently still sleeping. A muscle in his jaw tightens at the peaceful expression on your father’s face.

Not wanting to waste any more time, his magic yanks the covers off from your father. Your father jumps to wakefulness with a startle, eyes wide and frantic as he sits up in bed. The blood leaves his face as he spots Eris.

The heir to the Autumn Court reclines on the armchair as if it were his throne. There’s an air of practiced arrogance around him. He’s dressed in a fine suit, every thread woven with the finest fabrics of deep navy, highlighting the richness of his crimson hair that cascades around his broad shoulders. His amber eyes, gleaming with an unsettling intensity, pierce through the dimly lit room with an almost predatory glint.

“Call for help and I’ll slit your throat.”

“Lord Eris,” your father breathes, blinking back at him in surprise. His gaze lowers to where Eris’s ring clad fingers tap on the journal in his lap. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I came to relay a message from my father. I’m sure you’re well familiar with his impatience. But then, I found this,” Eris says, holding up the letter he found and taking pleasure in the fear that flashes through your father’s eyes. “Planning on going somewhere?”

It’s eerily quiet as you and Sawyer step into the High Lord’s office. You pray to the Cauldron that the glamor Sawyer placed over himself is strong enough to mask the evidence of whatever he got himself into last night. But as you turn around to face Beron, your heart sinks to your stomach. The pure anger simmering in those brown eyes of his is enough to let you know he sees right through it.

“Father, I can–”

You flinch, curling into yourself as a loud cracking sound echoes through the room followed by the sound of Sawyer’s body falling to the ground. He grunts in pain, struggling as he turns on his side to sit up. But a sharp kick from Beron sends him back to the floor, his head banging against the floor.

“You continue to disgrace this family,” Beron seethes with another powerful kick and you hear something crack. “Tarnishing the family name I spent centuries bringing up! Where is duty? Where is honor?”

Sawyer’s brown eyes light with an indignant fire. “Fuck honor,” he manages to spit out, setting Beron alight.

Tears sting at your eyes as you watch the scene unfold before you in horror. You knew the High Lord of the Autumn Court was cruel and violent. But this? And toward his own blood? This was unforgivable. Unjust and absolutely terrifying. It confirmed all your suspicions over the bruises and scars you'd seen on Eris.

Oh, Eris.

A scream catches in your throat and your entire body freezes as Beron continues to unleash his wrath on his son.

“I’ve been generous in offering you a solution and you dare make a mockery out of it?”

“There is no solution for who I am,” Sawyer cries defiantly, despite the blood trickling from his mouth.

The hurt, the agony in his voice tears at your heart–

“I dare curse the Cauldron for making you the way it did!”

“I don’t.” You’re taken aback at the firmness of your own voice.

Beron turns to you sharply, your words reminding him of your presence. You swallow thickly but stand your ground as he walks toward you. While Sawyer has not been the kindest to you, he does not deserve any of this. If anything, you now understand him more. Why your marriage came to be, why Sawyer hates you. It has your heart aching for all the suffering he must’ve endured and is still currently living through.

“You,” he hisses with a pointed finger. “You just marked your death sentence.”

Fear creeps into your heart and a sickening smirk begins to form on the High Lord’s face. He can sense the terror filling your veins. Still, you hold his gaze, though it’s threatening to burn you alive at any given moment.

“You’re undeserving of all the blessings the Cauldron has bestowed upon you," you say.

A harsh slap sends a stinging pain to your face. Your body stumbles backward but Beron holds you steady, gripping onto your arm. His nails cut through the thin fabric of your gown and pierce into your skin. His other hand grips your face sharply by the chin as he studies you.

“What a terrible disappointment you are. I would kill you right now but much to my discontent, I have to wait until after the wedding,” he threatens and then lets out a dark chuckle that sends shivers down your spine. The way he’s looking at you. You’re almost sure he’s thinking of all the ways he’ll enjoy torturing you to death. Your body is screaming internally in panic and there’s a strange sensation stirring in the depths of your chest.

“You could’ve had it all, you know? What every female of your status wishes for. Money, jewels, a good family name."

“No,” Sawyer groans out, keeling over. “None of this is her fault. It’s all mine. I was careless. Eris warned me but I threatened her to stay silent.”

You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding as Beron releases his cruel grip on you. He turns back to Sawyer, who remains on the floor and you’re quick to come between them. A foolish move but you worry Sawyer doesn’t have it in him to take any more blows. Nor do you want him to.

“I do not care who is at fault for I am putting the blame on both of you anyway. But,” Beron pauses to lift a finger. “Let this be clear to you both that this is a warning. One more mishap from either one of you and it’s over. You think you know pain? I will have you longing for something as sweet as pain.”

Beron looks over at you both, delighted in the sight of your trembling form and his son, who remains on the ground. Bleeding. He’d say his message is pretty clear but just in case...

“Oh. One more thing,” he says as he makes his way toward the door. His hand grasps the door knob but he pauses, wanting to make sure you hear his next words well.

“There will be a bedding ceremony at your wedding.”

Eris wasn’t above inflicting pain onto your father. He meant it when he said he’d do anything to keep you safe. What a harsh twist of fate it was that the person who helped bring you into this world was also the same person content with you leaving it.

Your father didn’t deserve you. Eris feared he, himself, did not deserve you either. But he’d be damned, if he allowed the ruthless hand of fate to have you at its grasps.

This thought crosses his mind as he gazes down at your own father’s hands. Eris had brought your father to his study, forcing him to sit at his desk while the Autumn heir loomed over his shoulder like an oncoming storm of darkness.

His hands reach for his belt, where he keeps his favorite dagger sheathed at all times. “What hand do you write with?”

Jareth’s body tenses. He turns his head to look up at Eris with wary eyes. “My right, my Lord,” he replies with quiet hesitancy.

“Good,” Eris says. The only warning Jareth got before Eris brought his dagger down, piercing through your father’s hands. He muffles his scream with his free hand as he twists the dagger further into his skin. “That means you won’t need your left hand anymore.”

“Here’s what I need you to do if you wish to live.” Eris roughly pulls Jareth’s head taut to his chest, forcing his gaze upwards. The hand at Jareth’s mouth lifts and finds its place against his throat. Eris gives a tight squeeze in warning.

“I need you to write a letter to your daughter. Confess the truth. Apologize for all the wrongs you’ve done. Then, you pray to the Mother that y/n has it in her to forgive you… because I sure as hell never will.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Jareth mutters hurriedly, desperate to live. His right hand shakes as it finds his quill, eyes glistening with fright under the intense gaze of Eris.

How pathetic, Eris sneers quietly as he sits himself on the chair directly across from Jareth. Though small, he needed to put some distance between them both. He fears if he didn’t, the primal instinct urging him to protect and defend you would consume him whole.

Eris leans back into the chair, bringing the journal filled with details of your father’s twisted experiment with you to his gaze. Every so often, he casts a glance toward your father, who continues to scribble words down with haste. The more and more he learns of the truth, the more it sickens him. And the more he wishes to give in to that primal instinct, to unleash the beast that lurks deep within him.

But he knows how much it’d hurt you if he killed your father. Even if your father deserved it. Ironically, Eris can only pray to the Mother himself that you would find it in you to forgive him for what he has planned for your father instead.

After what feels like an eternity, Jareth lets out a deep exhale. “Done.”

Eris lifts his gaze, slowly taking in the sight of your father like the calm before the storm. The older male’s face has turned ashen, coated with a sheen layer of sweat that Eris can scent.

The Autumn heir rises from his seat, leaning over to take a brief look at the contents of the letter. The corner of his lips lift into a sinister smirk.

“Looks like you won’t be needing your right hand either.”

Eris watches from a distance, bright flickering flames casting an eerie reflection in the darkness of his eyes. Your house is catching fire with a ferocity that thirsts to devour everything in its path. The letter your father had written to you is secured into the breast pocket of his coat along with the journal.

It all makes sense to him now. Why on that night he rushed to comfort you, you had not been concerned at all with your bleeding hand. Why the scar on his lower abdomen had magically disappeared after you touched it that same night. Why the yellow flower you had embroidered and proudly showed him looked familiar. Why your father would refer to you as a flower a lot. Why his father was obsessed with obtaining it for himself.

The sundrop flower surged through your veins.

A long, long time ago, it was whispered that a solitary drop from the Cauldron had spilled over in what is now known as the Dawn Court, giving birth to the radiant sundrop. The golden flower was no ordinary bloom as it possesses the ability to heal any ailment or injury. It blooms at a different location within the Dawn Court every fifth century or so. A phenomenon carefully overseen by the reigning High Lord of Dawn. As it is rumored that whoever beholds the flower is immortal, for nothing can harm or kill them.

Eris has no idea how your parents managed to not only find but obtain the flower before Thesan could. The sundrop is a divine creation, blessed by the Cauldron itself. A divine creation whose essence is intertwined with your very being. As Eris’s thoughts drift back to you, he feels a stirring deep in his chest.

His hand instinctively reaches for his heart, his breath catching as a tumultuous wave of emotions washes over him. Fear, panic, anger—all swirling within him. Yet not his own. No, these emotions are coming from you, echoing loudly through the bond.

A sense of foreboding settles over him. Something is terribly wrong.

a/n: Sorry for the lack of Eris x reader interactions in this one and the lack of softness this series usually holds but it was necessary to build up to the future parts. The next part will make up for it. Hope you still enjoyed! and also hoped you enjoyed the continued Tangled references lol and the one quote from the Avengers as well as some House of Dragon ones. I know a lot of information was dropped in this part so if you have any questions, just let me know. There's just three more parts to this and the bond snapping for reader is coming soon 👀

tagging: @fabulouslyflamboyant5 @fxckmiup @stormhearty @skyesayshi @sfhsgrad-blog @crazylokonugget @evergreenlark @secretlyhers @mybestfriendmademe @ib525, @96jnie, @kennedy-brooke, @scooobies, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria, @glitterypirateduck @thatsassyhufflepuff @acourtofbatboydreams, @mal-adaptive-dreams, @dandelionfairyyy

if you asked to be tagged and I didn't, please know it was a mistake and just let me know again so I can add you!

you can find a sneak peak to the next part here

#eris x reader #eris x you #eris x y/n #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra imagine #eris vanserra fanfic #acotar imagines #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #eris vanserra angst

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readychilledwine · 3 months

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Love Language

Summary - Lucien never wanted you to question his love, so he makes sure you never have to by leaving small reminders every time he leaves.

Warnings - Fluff, missing your partner

A/N - A few of you said I should clear out my Lucien stuff from Google docs, so I figured I would start doing that 🧡

Lucien Masterlist

You smiled at the random note that appeared on the bathroom mirror from the steam.

“Your smile is like dawn breaking after a long night.”

Lucien loved to leave you little notes, little reminders of his love. It surprised you at first when the bond snapped. Words of love and comfort were constantly appearing in your room, in your office, sometimes, when Lucien was away, Tamlin would even hand deliver them.

The High Lord had told you it was due to his lost love. He had so many words he had wished to say, so many regrets left unspoken. Lucien did not want the same fate with you. He wanted, no, he needed you to hear every word, every thought, every murmur of affection.

You leaned forward, finger writing back in the steam. “If only my smile was enough to warm your darkest days.”

The afternoon had fallen to night quickly. Stars now twinkled above you as you sat curled up on the balcony with your new book. Lucien had sent it to you from wherever Tamlin had him patrolling. He would be gone the next two days, and you could hardly wait for him to be home. You missed his kisses, his hands, his soft expressive eyes as he whispered his love.

You opened the cover and immediately began to cry. Lucien's handwriting sprawled the blank page, letters swirling and connecting like a dance. The book was about star-crossed lovers from two different courts that were constantly at war. Lucien said he had consumed it, refusing to put it down when he first got it, and now he needed you to read it. To read of their love that ran so deeply that at the thought of losing one another was enough to make them both end their lives.

He said he had thought of you while reading it, that he could never imagine life without you. His love sprawled every inch of that page, soaking the fine ink into rich parchment. The book didn't even matter anymore. You wanted to spend the night tracing those curls, the dots, the curved lines. You wanted to memorize the words that felt like poetry he wrote for you and only you. You couldn't help but bring the book to your nose, sighing as the faint scent of sunlight and cinnamon embraced your senses.

You opted to move back into the room. That scent lingered there stronger, wrapping you in a blanket of security. The glistening night sky, so beautiful and pure, was long forgotten as you curved up with Lucien's pillow, the book still resting in your hands as if it was a lifeline close to him. The bond tugged a couple of times, saying goodnight and that he loved you. In two more days, notes would be words.

2 days.

Just 2 more long days.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage

#acotar #acotar x reader #lucien x reader #lucien x y/n #lucien x you #lucien vanserra acotar #lucien vanserra x you #lucien vanserra x y/n #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien vanserra

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bywons · 4 months

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୨୧ STRAWBERRIES WITH CHOCOLATE— y. jungwon

pairing. yang jungwon x f!reader w.c. 0.5k tw/cw. not proofread mentions of food, blood(to describe blushing), kissing, tell me if i missed out smnthg! genre. college au, non idol au

sru's note! oh my gah writing after a long time, so excuse me if it's bad :( reblogs are appreciated!

m.list ⏐ requests are open! ⏐ navi

The library was rather quite. But of course there would be faint noises of rapid turning of pages and scribbling sounds of pen against paper, accompanied with hushed whispers of random gossips among the students.

But right now there was a higher frequency beside your ear, blubbering nonsense, while munching on the chocolate coated strawberries you made.

"—and then professor Kang decides to kick me out of the class?! Whereas i was just earin som shhtrawberries bro!" Yang Jungwon, the constant trouble up your ass, kept on rambling incoherently while shamelessly munching on the snacks.

"i think professor Kang did a wonderful job", you sighed, drifting your eyes over the texts of the open book in your lap.

You could already feel the heavy eye rolls from Jungwon as he moved his whole body to face you, a small plastic box of few remaining chocolate coated strawberries in his hands.

Jungwon leaned closer and you could figure out his little cocky smirk already. the box of strawberries now rested on the library floor, as he got closer to your ear, his breathe hot and hitting your cheeks, his lips grazing your ears like a feather.

"oh?", jungwon chuckled as he whispered, "you're only saying this cause i'm with you now, aren't ya?"

"oh shut up 'won!", you immediately shifted your head away from him but you couldn't control the evident blush that dawned on your cheeks. his proximity, his low voice and the tingling sensation on your ears were just enough to feel blood shoot up to your ears.

"how can i shut up now that you've given me a nickname, hmm?", jungwon smirked once more, tossing another of the strawberries in his mouth.

"i-", you couldn't formulate a single sentence at this point as jungwon would always have a flirtatious and smug comeback up his sleeve. he grinned, leaning down against the library shelf.

his striking smile also added to your now dumb state, by the way.

"You've been eating these for a week now", the book was closed in your lap and pointed towards the very plastic box in jungwon's hands with a bored pout.

"That's cause you've been makin' me these for a week, sweetcheeks", jungwon winked.

rolling your eyes, you scoffed, tilting your head as you watched jungwon munch away the snacks you made for him, looking ever so compelling even in an action as simple as this.

suddenly he just pulled you closer, letting your head flush against his chest and your skin bathe from his body heat.

"jungwon i think there's a lot of people h—"

"mm-hmm, i know," he cuts you off, wrapping a hand around your shoulder, "but i know for a fact that we're at the very back of the library, and i only care about my sweetcheeks and this cute stuff she made for me."

yang jungwon was yet again successful in making blood rush up to your cheeks, only this time, he had both your bodies falling together like puzzle pieces.

"by the way," you mumbled, playing with the loose strings hanging from jungwons sweater, while he saved one last strawberry in the box, "are the strawberries any sweet?"

"sweet as sugar," jungwon sang. he guided your neck upwards to him, as he looked down at you, smiling ever so softly.

"but you know what is even sweeter?"

"what?"

although you didn't get any verbal answer from jungwon, the answer did come from his lips, by connecting his to yours, to a saccharine kiss. heck, you could even taste the strawberries with chocolate!

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goblinontour · 4 months

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Nothing Of The Scent She’s Sending

alex is drunk and fucked up

warnings: smut, pwp, masturbation (m receiving), idk man

word count: 3.1k

he never really got over you, everyone knew it. but it wasn’t that big of a deal anymore. he pushed it to the back of his mind and tried to move on, girl after girl, even thought he might love some, but you were still there, lingering, as much as he tried to deny it.

now he is single, but content, he likes to think. he’s been enjoying his time off tour in england, visited some family. he came back to his london house, getting tired of LA, wanted to start writing some new material but no ideas came through.

he decides to go out one day, after not seeing some of his friends for a long time, too long. but it all goes wrong. one of them mentioned birthday coming up and alex’s sick mind got stuck on that, of course. you got in his head. again. and he couldn’t stop thinking about it all day. they end up going to a bar in the evening and he stays for a few drinks. though not enough to get full on wasted, it is enough to cloud alex’s mind.

when he gets home it dawns on him, thoughts of you, of the two of you together, just how much he missed it, having you around the house, kissing you almost every morning…he goes straight to his little bar cart and contemplates for a bit. should he try to make himself a proper drink, perhaps even try your favourite again, just to get a glimpse of your taste? no, that would take too long. he can’t be bothered. he decides upon straight up liquor, out the bottle. as he slumps down on his settee he turns on the tv to some random documentary to try to calm his thoughts. all for nothing. his impulses take over him. he takes his phone out of his back pocket, instinctively searching for your name, scrolling through his list until he finds it. he forgot about the picture he’d set as your contact and god did he stare at it not even realising how the minutes passed. you just looked so pretty, perfect. it was one he took while you were sleeping, he’d woken up before you in the morning and the light hit your face so beautifully, accentuating all your features, your hair all messy around the pillow and some over your eyes, he couldn’t resist capturing the moment.

he downs his drink and sits forward, a hand holding the phone, your face staring back at him, and the other rubbing over his face nervously, tugging at the slight stubble, prickly under his fingertips, trying to gather the courage to do something. or rather to get back to his senses and do nothing.

he settles upon texting you a simple ‘hello’. he waits and waits for what feels like hours, though it had only been a few minutes, every second tormenting him. he texts again.

‘darling please…’ . please…what? he doesn’t even know what exactly it is that he wants out of this. he wants you, of course, but he can’t just say that, can he? so what will he even say to you when you reply, if you do. he didn’t think it through, though it doesn’t stop him.

seeing as you aren’t responding, he calls, and calls, again and again, going to voicemail every time. he leaves a few messages, telling you ‘call me, please’, and stuff along those lines. it is now 3am and although confused once you check your phone and see all his texts and missed calls, you decide to call him back, thinking something might be wrong if he’s so insistent.

he answers instantly and you greet him with a soft “hi”, but he can’t muster up any words, completely shocked he’s hearing your voice again, his mind going all blank. it’s not like you two ended things on bad terms, but he distanced himself from you, in the hopes he could forget about you.

he can hear your breathing on the other side of the line. when he finally breaks out of the sort of trance he was in he speaks up.

“erm…hi…hello darling”. his voice breaks mid-word and he already wants to beat himself up for embarrassing himself. you ask him what he wants, not in a rude way, just curious. after all, you hadn’t talked in months. he doesn’t know what to say, he wants to say ‘i miss you’ but what if you don’t feel the same way.

you start chatting a bit, just this and that, after the weird awkwardness at the beginning, him asking you how you’ve been, random stuff he could blurt out in his intoxicated state of being at the moment. he always had a way to reel you in, his mind is a wondrous place, what you loved the most about him.

the alcohol got the worst of him though. he starts to feel himself getting more and more aroused just from the sound of your voice. fucking hell is he that desperate? he tries to keep the conversation going and get you talking more. he doesn’t even notice when he starts touching himself over his dress pants, feeling his growing erection. fuck, no, what are you doing. he quickly removes his hand but he can’t help himself. it hurts. you got him hard just by talking to him. not even face to face, over the fucking phone. maybe it won’t be that bad, he could just try to soothe the ache, palming himself, grabbing at it, to get it to go down. but he can’t help it like that. and he hates himself for doing this.

he is desperate, his cock strained by the confines of his pants, tightening by the second. he caves in. he undoes the button hastily, struggling for a moment, murmuring something under his breath which earns him a “huh?” from you, but he just brushes it off. his hand soon slips into his boxers, rubbing his fingertips over his tip softly for a moment. sweet relief. he spreads the wetness with his thumb and he slowly starts stroking his cock, more just rubbing his hand over the length, as if he was petting it, throwing his head back over the backrest of the settee, his breathing getting heavier.

at this point he can still keep the conversation going without letting what he is doing show. it doesn’t last much longer though. the way your voice gets softer and quieter from sleepiness, since it is late, and unlike him you aren’t under the influence of anything. but he is. and it isn’t the drinks he had anymore, it is you. he is imagining you laying down on the bed while you are giving your precious time to him right now, out of everything you could be doing.

he wonders…are you naked? the thought of you being naked while talking to him reels him in even further. he pushes his boxers down to his balls, taking his cock out properly, grasping it in his hand and wrapping his fingers around it. tight. he lets go for a moment to spit in his palm so he can make it slippery enough so it feels good, messy, just how he likes it, and as soon as he starts stroking himself with the newly added wetness it is over. he is panting, catching himself occasionally when he is starting to make too much noise. he can’t have you noticing what he is doing. he can’t have you think of him as some obsessed creep. but he is, he just didn’t want to admit it to himself. slow but precise strokes follow, his grip tightening every time he gets closer to the tip, pulling down on his foreskin to reveal the pink head, glistening from the precum leaking, spreading it around and down his length. why weren’t you here to do this? he misses you, your mouth around him, no one compares, nothing. his hand is just…not the same. it took him a couple of weeks to be able to make himself cum after your split. it was torturous, like he was trying to rid himself of an addiction.

he gets lost in the feeling, so much that he forgets that you are actually there, and you can perhaps sense what’s going on. he’s been quiet for a good time now, and yes, you keep going, just talking but you notice that he’s not saying anything in response anymore, not even a ‘mhm’ or something. but then a deep raspy moan escapes his mouth. what the hell?

“alex, what are you doing?” you ask. is it what you think? can’t be…

fuck. he fucked up.

he drops his phone, startled by you speaking up, hearing his own name in your voice snapping him out of it. he got himself so close that when he instinctively leans over to grab the dumb thing, the slight friction from his cock rubbing against the rough fabric surrounding it pushes him over the edge, and he can’t do anything about it. he wants to scream. all of this for nothing. of course he had to ruin it for himself. he immediately bites his lip, hard, almost making it bleed, watching the cum dribbling out pathetically from his tip, with no stimulation whatsoever.

“alex?” you ask again. what the fuck is up with him.

he doesn’t bother saying another thing, hanging up on you. you don’t deserve some poor excuse, you know exactly what happened, he doesn’t get to feel better about it by trying to convince you it was just nothing. and he doesn’t want to make himself feel like even more of a loser by trying to lie his way out of it.

he just stares down at himself, just watching how the sticky cum eventually drips down on his black trousers and how he slowly softens, not even all the way from the disappointing orgasm he gave himself.

he pitifully gets up to go clean it up, wincing when the sharp zipper pinches his thin sensitive skin as he walks to the bathroom. he deserves to feel pain, that’s what he gets for not even tucking himself back in, just tramping around the house with his dick fluttering between his legs over his clothes. the pain feels surprisingly good though. it shouldn’t feel good. he deserves worse.

once he reaches the cold room his eyes get hit by the stark white lighting and he can’t stop himself from staring as he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the big mirror on the sidewall. pathetic. he’s pathetic. his half hard cock hanging down, the white stains of his cum drying up a reminder of how low he stooped.

he takes off his clothes, leaving them on the floor to deal with later. he contemplates taking a cold shower, to get it to go down but…taking the edge off would be better. once again he meets his own reflection staring back at him. he gets closer, his hands along with his forehead sticking to the cool glass, his hair marking it with sweat. he looks straight into his own eyes thinking what the fuck are you doing alexander. one of his hands travels down to his cock, a sigh escaping his lips at the sensation, much more sensitive than usual due to the ruined orgasm from earlier. his lips part as he starts with slow strokes, feeling himself growing back fully hard already, his hot breath against the mirror fogging it up. he shouldn’t be doing this, not while thinking of you like that again, not after using you to get off. but it feels so good, imagining it is your hand instead, or your mouth, or even your pussy. god he misses it. his plush lips come in contact with the reflective surface as he moans, loud, his bottom lip dragging against the glass.

as his intoxicating thoughts of you continue clouding his drunken mind, drunk on you more than anything, he remembers something. the pair of panties he found a few days after you two broke up. worn panties. they got lost behind the hamper most probably. the most normal thing would’ve been for him to wash them and give them to you, you were still around the house, packing your stuff, or to just throw them away. even so, he didn’t do that. he didn’t mention it to you, of course, but he kept them. he has them in your drawer. his drawer in reality, but he still calls it yours, where you used to keep your lingerie, as might be expected.

he stumbles into the bedroom, holding himself up by the edge of the dresser, and grabs the lace piece from the place it’s been ever since you left. his fingers brush over the soft material delicately, trying to remember the last time he saw you wearing them.

he sinks into the mattress not long after, bringing the panties up to his face instinctively. there’s still a trace of you lingering. he doesn’t just want his hand anymore, he wants you, the real you, except you’re not there.

nevertheless he’s gonna try his best to emulate it. he is so inebriated that maybe it could work. he flips over so his tummy is on the bed instead of his back, his cock brushing against the sheets as he switches his position, making him hiss at the haste contact. he reaches up to grab one of the pillows, slipping it under himself, right at the level of his pelvis, resting his face on one side on the bed. he starts moving his hips against it, the sensation so delicious he can’t help but squirm and dig his face deeper in the white sheets. at least those won’t be stained by the end of this. well they will, they just won’t be visible, and that’s enough for him to feel better about it. the pleasure he’s feeling only gets intensified when he sniffs your scent from the piece of fabric he’s holding up against his nose, delving into it deeper and deeper.

in his subconscious he knows he’s not actually fucking you, but it sure feels like it right now. his hips keep working, thrusting mindlessly, his cock grazing both the fabric and himself, as it is tucked in between his lower stomach and the cushion, the throbbing head stroking his tummy with every forward move he makes. he can barely feel it, as he’s gone a bit numb, but the precum is continuously leaking, making a mess on himself, the little silken hairs that trail down from his belly button to his pubic hair getting soaked, sticking to his skin.

he could cum already, but he holds on, like he would for you, to always get you there before him. he wraps the lace around his fingers, tangled up in his hand and bites down on it to muffle his sounds, still groaning, sending vibrations through his own skin. he can’t be moaning and especially he can’t be screaming your name at this hour.

he wants to cum inside you, well, in the made up version of you he made for himself. not thinking anymore he shamelessly slips his hand from his mouth down between his body and the pillow, wrapping his lace cladded palm around his throbbing cock and immediately whining from how the fabric feels rubbing over his foreskin, and over the extra sensitive exposed head. albeit very soft for a lace piece, it still feels rough on his cock, absolutely fucking amazingly rough. he’s thrusting his hips at a wild pace, all over the place, his hand stroking in tandem to meet each one.

he tightens his grip as if to simulate you contracting around him as you reach your orgasm and it drives him over the edge. he explodes all over the pillow, his hand, his belly. everywhere. his cum reaches everywhere from how he lifted his hips up as he reached his release, to be able to move his hand properly and practically milk himself, squeezing till the last drop leaves his pulsating cock, twitching in his palm as he comes down.

he wipes himself clean with your panties. ruined. he ruined them. why did he do this? he gets up and walks back to the bathroom to throw them away in the bin there, because it was the closest, but he can’t bring himself to do it. instead he cleans the sticky traces of himself the best he can and neatly folds them, putting them back in your drawer. he doesn’t care anymore, he knows it’s gross, but he can’t throw away the last piece of you he has.

before fully taking in what he’s just done and hating himself even more, he fixes the sheets, putting the pillow back in its place, on what used to be your side of the bed. of course he used your pillow.

he’s getting sleepy now that he came. well he did come before, but it wasn’t how it was supposed to be. he needs a smoke before bed, though he doesn’t want the smell to linger in the bedroom…but it’s cold outside, and he’s naked. he doesn’t want to put on any clothes, he’s perfect for bed as he is now, putting on clothes just to take them off again would be redundant…it’s late, everyone is probably sleeping. he doesn’t ponder on it for long, deciding to just say ‘fuck it’. he walks through his home, butt naked, till he gets to the balcony doors, quickly opening them and stepping out.

it’s colder than he expected. he can feel goosebumps forming from the stark difference of temperature, his warm house, and very hot body, in contrast with the sharp cold air of the late hours of the night.

he takes a cigarette out from the pack and lights it up, resting his arms on the railing, his soft frail dick brushing against the ice cold metal for just a second, making him hiss and his whole body shiver.

he takes his sweet time, forgetting about his surroundings, eventually going to bed without knowing how hard this is all going to hit in the morning.

a/n: idk…this has been in the drafts since november last year and it was supposed to be a lot different but it got to this.

tags: @4chaos @picturezonthewall @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @ohladymoon @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @mathdebate00 @averyzversi0n @ouroboros311 @menace-to-the-devil @jqsvi @turnersfav

#alex turner #alex turner smut #alex turner fic #alex turner fanfic #alex turner x you #alex turner x reader #smut #goblinontour

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 7 months

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I have covid (for the first time ever wtf) and I’m feeling sick and pathetic. Just thinkin’ bout how I have to take care of myself and I hate it. How do you think sugar daddy Joel would take care of our sugar baby reader without spending any money if she got Covid or the flu??

I need some fluff to get me thru. PS I love u and your writing so flipping much.

Sugar Daddy!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: mentions of illness, reader can eat chicken noodle soup, reader has hair that can be brushed away from her face

Timeline: this does not fit into the current TCOY story line and is just a separate drabble in the same universe!

[a/n: first of all, OH NO. I know how bad COVID sucks. (fun fact I've had it on five separate occasions, I basically collect a new round of it every time a new strain runs through our hospital). Please please please make sure you stay hydrated above all else! Obviously I don't know your medical history, but the best general advice is to not get dehydrated. Your body needs fluids to fight the good battle. second, I love YOU and I know this isn't much and it's not that great b/c I threw it together in fifteen minutes but I hope it makes you feel a little better, my love💜]

TCOY DRABBLE:

HOMEMADE IS BETTER THAN STORE BOUGHT

"happiness is homemade."

“Baby girl, I need you to sit up for me.” Joel hummed.

You were buried in the thick comforter of his bed feeling absolutely miserable. The cold had come on suddenly. A small cough, more irritating than anything else, spiraled into full body aches, a splitting migraine, and congestion so bad that it felt like your head was filled with concrete. Joel’s heavy hand brushed aside the hair matted to your forehead with dried sweat. Your fever was lingering last Joel checked, but the Nyquil he forced you to take with a bottle of water earlier was helping some.

Joel murmured your name once more and you just moaned in response. You felt the bed dip with his weight and his hand dragged up and down your back. The motion brought with it a comfort on par with medication itself.

“You think you can eat somethin', sugar?” Joel asked.

“Maybe later.” You mumbled. “Sleepy.”

“That’s probably the Nyquil.” Joel replied. “I sent Riley to pick up some stuff from the store.”

You felt Joel lean over and his lips brushed against your temple. You shook your head, “You’re gonna get sick. I should quarantine alone.” You buried yourself deeper into his bed. With your nose stuffed like it was, you couldn’t smell his sheets and that bothered you more than it probably should’ve. “Don’t you have that meeting today too?”

“If you think I’m leavin' you like this, sugar, then that fever’s got you delusional.” Joel snorted. You felt the covers you had bundled yourself in begin to untangle and a whine that could only be described as pathetic slipped your lips. Before you knew it though, Joel was under the thick comforter with you and you felt yourself get pulled into his warm chest. “C’mon, baby girl. Sleep it off.”

You snuggled closer into his grip and focused on the random patterns he was rubbing on your shoulder with his hand. As a human, this was obviously not the first time you had gotten sick, but something about this time felt different. With Joel’s thick arms wrapped around you it dawned on you that it was him. The last time you were sick you were forced to take care of yourself and work through it. Having your sugar daddy around made you needy as all hell it seemed, but the comfort Joel immediately showed you had you melting against his chest.

“When I wake up, can I have soup?” You blurted the words out, half asleep.

Before sleep took you completely, you heard Joel’s deep chuckle, felt it rumble against you, “Sugar, you can have anythin' you want.”

When you woke up, you did feel marginally better. Joel was no longer in bed with you and you slowly sat up to rub at your face. You craved a hot shower to wash off the sweat and open your sinuses a bit more. A groan left your lips, still feeling crummy, and you began to climb out of bed.

“Whoa, whoa, pump the brakes.” Joel called out. He came into the room holding a tray and you chuckled at the sight of him. He set the tray down on the nightstand to usher you back into bed. “Where do you think you’re goin'?”

You gave him a tired smile, “Shower. I feel icky.”

“Icky?” Joel asked and you nodded. He chuckled and leaned forward to press his lips on your forehead again. He sat back and rubbed a hand against your leg. “Think you can stomach somethin' first?” You nodded again and Joel grabbed the tray. It looked like a bowl of chicken noodle soup, but not the kind that came out of a can of Campbell’s. “Here we go.”

You tilted your head, “Where’d you buy the soup?”

“Didn’t.” Joel grinned. “Made it.”

“You made it??”

“Uh huh.” It was honestly adorable how proud he looked of it. “Homemade is better than store bought, right? Gets you better quicker.”

You laughed, “I’m not so sure about the science behind that.”

“No, no. When I googled the recipe it definitely said this would get you better faster.” Joel teased.

You picked up the spoon and carefully blew the heat away before bringing it to your lips. The first thing you tasted was salt. A lot of salt. Too much salt. You coughed in response and tried not to twist your face to reveal the reaction. You cleared your throat and smiled, “Yum.”

Joel furrowed his brow, “What’s wrong? No good?”

“No. It’s⏤ It’s good.” You said quickly. “It’s… I like the, uh, the…”

Joel grabbed the spoon from your fingers to take a sip himself and he immediately spluttered with a cough and groan, “What the fuck is that?” Your lips twitched up into another smile. “That tastes awful. Jesus Christ. Gimme that.”

He took the tray from you and set it on the nightstand again away from you. You set a hand on the side of your face while watching his face crumple into a grumpy look of annoyance. You shook your head, “What did it taste like as you were making it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know. While you were making it did it taste okay?” You clarified. Joel narrowed his eyes at you in thought and you tilted your head. “…Did you taste it while making it?”

“You’re supposed to eat it while you make it??”

You laughed, “Not eat. Just taste.”

“Shit.” Joel scoffed. “I ate some of the chicken and it was good.” You reached out and cupped his face. He looked annoyed with himself, but at your touch the grumpy demeanor morphed into a soft look of concern and disappointment. Joel sighed and turned his head to press a kiss to your palm before leaning into your touch again. “I’m so sorry, sugar. Just wanted to do somethin' nice for you myself rather than just buy…”

You shook your head, “This was nice. I loved it.”

“There is no way you loved that soup. It was just salt, damn it.”

“No, but I love that you tried.” You replied. “It’s the effort that counts.”

“That’s just what people say when they fuck up.” He grumbled.

You leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose, “You said the homemade version would make me feel better, and this has definitely made me feel better, daddy.”

Joel wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and stared softly for a moment before his smile returned. “You missed my lips, sugar.”

“I already told you. I’m icky.”

“Don’t care. Still want you.”

“You are already pushing your luck.” You scoffed in amusement. “You are gonna end up sick.”

Joel pulled you closer, and even at full strength you’d never be capable of refusing this man. He paused with his lips just barely touching yours. “I’ll risk it.” Joel’s lips sealed against yours tenderly. A soft kiss of comfort rather than of passion. A wordless act of reassurance that he was there. Joel’s tongue just barely brushed against yours before he leaned back and left you wanting more. He hummed, “You taste like salt.”

“Yeah, gee, I wonder whose fault that is.”

#joel miller #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #sugar daddy!joel miller x reader #sugar daddy!joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #take care of you

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thunder-at-dawn · 1 month

Text

new blog? new blog.

i’m not abandoning this one for good, i just feel a bit detached from it, and kind of want to move somewhere else for the time being. i’m not posting the username publicly, so just dm me if you want the username and i’ll give it to you.

#i’ll still post here it’ll just be very sparse #random stuff from dawn

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sincerelyrki · 2 months

Text

PIKA PIKA

↳ ten : twenty questions

warnings : mentions of killing someone (jokingly)

wc : 1106

previous | masterlist | next

You became hyperaware of your trembling hands the second you heard the door unlocking, cold sweats almost immediately settling in as the realization of your situation really dawned on you.

Before you even had time to regret your decision the hotel door swung open, Riki standing in the entrance with a small smirk adoring his lips.

You both stood starstruck, eyes never parting as you both took each other in. “You’re so pretty” Riki had to physically stop himself from throwing his hand over his mouth, self-deprecating thoughts swarming his mind as he cursed himself out for his careless speaking.

Through his cloud of regret, Riki almost missed the reds filling your cheeks, the colour matching your bitten lips. “Thank you” You honestly had no idea how to respond, the whole situation feeling almost too surreal to be true.

Riki saw your response as an advantage to break the ice, “wow, you say more than pika pika?” A love-struck smile graced his cheeks as you threw your head back in laughter, your sweet voice demanding for him to stop teasing you.

Riki nodded his head towards the interior of his room, an indication for you to come in. You gave him a passing smile as you slid between the ajar door and the wall.

Riki noticed your back towards him and couldn’t stop his small celebration, his hands pumping the air beside him.

“How is your room so clean? I swear I've been in mine for like two hours and it’s already a mess” You wowed out loud as you looked around the room, eyes roaming around each painting hanging on the wall and over to the suitcases sat neatly in the corner of his room.

“I got used to keeping my stuff together I guess” Riki lied straight to your face, but he honestly had no choice. It’s not like he could tell you about how he just spent the last five minutes cleaning his room, throwing everything under his bed in a panic.

You let out a sound of acknowledgment, nodding at him with the sweetest smile on your face. Riki knew he was in trouble, You’ve barely spoken more than fifty words and he’s already planning your first three dates.

Riki wasn’t thinking straight when he asked you to come over, his energy drink affecting the way he would usually think things over. Due to his lack of preparation he barely had time to google what kids his age talked about, he only had enough time to read the first line of some random website before you came knocking on his door.

“Do you want to play twenty questions?” You threw a teasing smile toward him, playfully tilting your head to the side as you pretended to look him up and down. “Didn’t think you’d be this cheesy”

Riki thought there’d never be a time when he’d enjoy being teased, but here he was, doing two things he never thought he’d do. Bringing a girl into his hotel room and longing to be teased again.

“Aye, don’t be too mean, I'm sensitive” Riki played right into your jokes, rebutting with his own pretend disappointment. Riki sat down on the left side of his bed, resting his back against one of the top many pillows.

“Come sit” He patted the spot directly next to him, beckoning you over to sit in the middle of the queen bed. You gave him a grateful smile before you kicked off your shoes, climbing into the bed beside him.

Riki takes out loud at your distance, faux disapprovement filling his face as he furrowed his eyebrows at you. “What? I don’t bite” He scooted himself closer to you, just enough for your shoulders to touch.

You jumped in shock as his bathroom door came slamming open, a long bang ricocheting through the room as it hit against the wall.

Jake stood in the doorway, a plunger raised by his head as he prepared to swing it at whoever was in the room. The bathroom was situated by the door, a mirror on the opposing wall, one that was perfectly positioned for the both of you to make eye contact.

Jake froze in his spot, a deer in headlights as he saw the position the two of you were in. He could see his younger member glaring at him through the mirror, but he could also see your wide eyes staring at him.

After a second of staring at you, Jake realizes who the giggling was, and the situation playing out right now. “Wait, Riki what?” Jake dropped the plunger by his side, screaming as it touched his leg.

You watched in shock as Jake freaked out, his voice a bit too loud considering the time of the night. “Jake, what are you even doing here? I’ve been here for an hour and I didn’t once notice you coming in”

Jake once again paused, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck as he debarred telling the truth. “Well, I was going to surprise you. I wanted to watch-“ He paused as he looked at you, changing his speech mid-sentence to avoid an awkward conversation.

“Uh, barbie?” Jake blurted out the first movie he could think of, nodding his head as he successfully pulled off his facade. “Barbie?” You perked up, eyes excitingly staring into Riki’s to see his confirmation.

You saw Riki slowly nodding his head, a fake smile on his face as he glared at his member. “Yep, we’re watching Barbie” Even if the night wasn’t turning out the way he expected, he wouldn’t change anything after he saw the way your face completely lit up at his confirmation.

“Sick, let me change my pants though” Jake opened the closet and pulled out his hidden suitcase, smiling at the two of you and he closed the bathroom door behind him.

“I love Barbie, have you seen it before?” Riki shook his head, causing a loud gasp to fall from your lips. “I’m happy that I can watch it for the first time with you”.

You felt your heart stutter in your chest, breath getting stuck in your throat as his words carved hearts in your pupils.

Before you could say anything else Jake came out of the bathroom, an oversized zip-up and gray sweatpants wrapped around his body.

If Riki wasn’t irritated before he definitely was now. Not only did Jake interrupt your instantaneous hangout, but now he was wearing the exact same thing he was.

“I love Barbie” Jake crawled into bed, sitting directly beside you on your other side. Riki was definitely going to kill him.

a/n : i posted a new smau :) it’s called mini skirt

Niki knew that the pikachu's on stage with them were real people dressed in a costume but that doesn't mean he can't get shocked after accidentally revealing one of their identities. his shock quickly changed to amusement as the revealed pikachu could only think of one thing to say as the tension in the room heightened- "pika pika?" it's not like you could avoid him after humiliating yourself either, you still have all of tour left.

taglist is OPEN ! send an ask or comment to be added xoxo

taglist one (1) : @fantastichoagieuniversityhairdo @lovrqis @laylasmother @rodygr @geraldsmochi @j-wyoung @sakiimeo @totalstanskz @enhaz1 @thatsroug @jiaant11 @invusblog @hoooniversee @isawritesss @dendrobiumorchid @heartsforpixie @whoiss4m @certified-niki-lover @blurryriki @sleepdeprivedline @mrowwww @amesification @ilovejeongin007 @addictedtohobi @je11yhee @eleanorheartschishiya @jungwonderz @honeyboobear @brachioanton @daniels-hlini @jeongintwt @who-tf-soddhi @byusit @lcv3lies @seunnimg @reallyspaghetti @owotalks @samiwashere @woninluv @kgneptun @luveuism @thea-herondale @nishimuraazr1zzkiii @simjyunnie @syds-dead @haechansbbg @jiyeons-closet @junissy @roxyspersonaltoy @winuvs @woozixo @starjunjun @iheartjayke @jjaeyunist @ilyjxdz

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toomanybrainrots · 3 months

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Hiiii!! I’m the one who requested that TFA Optimus x queen fem thingy, and first off I wanted to say Tysm!! And can I ask for the same request just with TFA Megatron?? TFA Megatron x fem reader who was a queen n stuff. Hope it isn’t so soon for me to request again😓 Ty tho! (Take your time)

Of course you can. Honestly, I enjoyed writing that request a lot(cause I love writing big women) so I’m glad to do this one

Warning(s)/content: Female reader, reader is referred to with female adjacent things, and/or female pronouns

TFA Megatron with a Female Reader who’s a queen(literally)

You had first met Megatron when your pod crashed right into the Decepticon warship

It didn’t make it crash, but it dealt enought damage that they had to emergency land on a random planet to get your pod out and investigate it

Once your pod opened and you woke up, you were a mix of confusion, fear, and anger. So much so that you felt threatened and you attacked the first bot you saw

Which just so happened to be Megatron

Megatron had to give it to you, you were almost, if not equal, to him in fighting

Thankfully, when you both were worn out and you got out of your rage filled fury, you explained your situation. Megatron saw this as an opportunity to help - for his own benefit of course. Having a literal queen of an entire species would give him an advantage

Hence, you were brought aboard and accepted as an (honorary) member of the Decepticons.

Ever since that day, you kept following Megatron around. Always staying by his side, hissing at everyone who dared get near, and being his personal guard. He couldn't help but feel a tad smug about his new "guard dog", though he did eventually get fond of your company, even going as far as to feel weird without you by him

He didn't question why you were following him, as he thought it was simply your way of showing your loyalty

He was kind of right in that assumption

It was a busy day at the Decepticon warship, Megatron noted a she oversaw production from his throne, you right by his side.

"My Lord, may I ask something?" You said. Megatron nodded "what is it you ask?"

"How much longer will we do this dance, my lord? I grow tired of waiting" Megatron felt confusion when you said that. Then it dawned on him. Ah, that explained it.

He understood quickly that you were trying to court him.

And so, he agreed to let you do that. (For his benefit, is what he tells himself)

You were very ecstatic when he said that

Each day, you offered him small trinkets and objects that reminded you of him. Such as ruby red jewels, the finest of gold and silver, or makshift crowns you made yourself

He wouldn't admit it outloud but he kept each and every one in his own room just for that purpose: keeping your trinkets and handmade gifts

He appreciated you shutting up Starscream whenever he was about to gawk out something stupid

You may have been protective, but you understood well enough he was perfectly capable of defending himself(being a warlord and all). But, he never complained, in fact, he always requested your presence

Being your king was the top decision he had not regret in

#transformers #maccadam #maccadams #transformers x reader #x reader #x female reader #megatron x reader #transformers animated #tf animated #tfa #tfa megatron #tfa megatron x reader

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writingquestionsanswered · 8 months

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Overuse of I/Me/My in First-Person

Anonymous asked: I'm writing a first-person POV story and am growing a bit tired of everything repeating "I raised MY sword" "I glanced down to MY right" etc… I'm annoyed by how much 'I', ''my', 'me' gets pushed into my sentences everytime I describe my MC doing something. I try to rearrange the sentences but it ends up the same "with MY sword raised, I will… blah blah blah." I feel like I overuse the POV stuff, but if I don't, everything muddles into confusion on whose stuff I'm talking about. Any help appreciated. Thank you!

(Ask edited for length...)

There are three things to consider when you feel like you're overusing I/me/my in first-person POV.

#1 - Pronouns and adjectives of possession (his/her/my/their/its) are just a part of telling stories. I think we tend to be more aware of first-person words than third-person words, if for no other reason than we're talking about ourselves when we use them in life. However, they're a necessary part of storytelling regardless of which POV you're using.

Consider this random paragraph from Outlander by Diana Gabaldon:

Drowsy as I was, I wanted nothing more than to curl up under a cozy bush and go back to sleep. There wasn't room for that, though, so I continued to stand, peering down the steep path in search of oncoming Druids. I was getting a crick in my back, and my feet ached, but it couldn't take long; the streak of light in the east had turned a pale pink, and I supposed it was less than an hour 'til dawn.

In this 82-word paragraph, the first-person pronoun "I" appears five times, and the adjective of possession "my" appears twice.

So, to some degree you have to really think about whether you're actually overusing these first-person words or whether you're just more aware/over-sensitive to their use.

#2 - You could be over describing your character's actions. When writing in first-person in particular, it can be tempting to describe every movement your character makes, resulting in a sort of "laundry list" of actions that requires a lot of I/me/my usage. For example:

I opened my eyes as my alarm went off. I hit the snooze button, but then I realized I needed to get up. I sat up and stretched my arms, then I swung my legs over the side of the bed and put my feet on the cold floor. I slid my feet into my slippers and stood myself up, and then I shuffled across the room to the bathroom. I opened the bathroom door...

I opened my eyes. I hit the snooze button. I realized I needed to get up. I sat up. I swung my legs over the side of the bed. I slid my feet into my slippers. I shuffled across the room. I opened the bathroom door. It's way too much detail. Your readers don't need a blow-by-blow of every second. It's sufficient to say:

I hit the snooze button through bleary eyes, quickly realizing I needed to get up. Sliding my feet into my slippers, I shuffled across the room to the bathroom for a quick shower.

See how much better that is? Your reader understands how to get out of bed, so you don't have to describe swinging your legs over the side of the bed unless that's important for some reason. Your reader can fill in the smaller movements between bigger ones, so it's not necessary to describe every small action.

Per your example, "I raised my sword" is a pretty necessary use of "I" if it's important that your character raised their sword. However, "I glanced to my right"

#3 - You're overusing filter words. Words like realized, knew, felt, saw, watched, heard, looked, glanced, remembered, decided, spotted, noticed, thought, noted... are called "filter" words because they come between the character's experience and the action unnecessarily, like a filter.

-- I realized it was getting dark out ... It was getting dark out -- I knew it was getting late ... It was getting late -- I felt the icy floor under my feet ... The floor was icy under my feet -- I saw the sun was starting to set ... The sun was starting to set -- I watched a bird land on the branch ... A bird landed on the branch -- I heard the wind rustling the leaves ... The wind rustled the leaves -- I looked and saw it was 4pm ... It was 4pm -- I glanced down and saw rocks below ... There were rocks below

You get the point. :) By eliminating filter words, you will eliminate a lot of the necessity for the use of I/me/my.

#4 - You're over-tagging dialogue. Even if your character is alone through much of the story, or even if they're only talking to themselves or one other character at a time, over-tagging dialogue can still be an issue. You can read my post Avoiding Repetition with Dialogue Tags to help with that. I hope that helps!

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back2bluesidex · 1 year

Text

Trouble 02 - JJK (M) 18+

Pairing: Hot roommate!Jungkook X Fem!reader

Summary: It's not that you don't like your hot rommmate, you just choose to stay away.

Wordcount: 1977

Theme: rommmate au, SMUT, PWP, enemies to lovers au (sorta)

Warnings: Shower sex, reader takes her revenge, oral sex, cumming on face, that's all really.

Part 1

************

"Easy" that's what Jungkook has named you when you first came into his view.

He still remembers how he met you at the doorstep of the dorm and how dumbfounded you looked after bumping into his fuck-buddy from the previous night.

A simple girl with simple clothes and no extravaganza at all, that's what you looked like. And you still look the same. If anything has changed then it's Jungkook's assumptions for you.

Jungkook has seen a dozen girls like you and all of them were easy targets. No matter how quiet you people might be, he knows how to break down the walls. And once he does so, he has them wrapped around his fingers.

He thought you would be just the same.

Unfortunately he was wrong. You are quiet but not naive or docile. You know how to carry yourself properly. You stay within your protected bubble and never give into his invitations. You have avoided him very efficiently for these ten months.

In one simple expression, you are not like any other girl he has ever met. And that's what makes him intrigued.

At first he thought you were just pretty but god, was he wrong? Cause you are so damn gorgeous. Once you doll yourself up, you can easily snatch the title of campus beauty. And that ass! My god! That ass makes him imagine a lot of dirty stuff he better not admit.

You make him lose himself at times, you make him want you like crazy, you make his cock rock-hard without even touching him and yet you don't even have any idea about it.

The night he heard you pleasuring yourself, he couldn't get a blink of sleep. At first he jerked himself off to your melodic moans and later he kept on imagining how you look underneath your clothes, how you taste and how you feel. He never stopped imagining since then. And it only increased with time.

He has a ton of questions on your sex life mostly because he has never encountered anyone leaving your room or anything similar. He wishes he could ask you those questions directly but given the fact that you don't even call him your friend, it's tough.

Still, all of it was fine, fine until you brought a guy last night. When Jungkook saw you pulling him into your room he was almost jealous. Okay, not almost, he was jealous. He was jealous of the fact that a random guy was getting to taste you before he could.

It was probably 4 am when he heard someone shutting the front door shut loudly. It was you, he knew, he could recognise the sound of your footsteps even.

By the way you shut the door loudly during the cracking dawn, he knew something was wrong. And since he hadn't heard your pretty noises as much as he should have, he knew it was the guy's incapabilities of pleasing you that had you on the edge. His ego was satisfied. His signature smirk returned to his face. He decided to make a move the next morning.

So he did and you caught him off guard by letting him touch you, by responding to him so eagerly. But he decided to play with you since you made him wait for so long. Nevertheless, that didn't stop him from wondering if you would actually be waiting for him wearing your best lingerie or would you chicken out. Honestly, he really can't control anymore. It's hard for him to resist himself when he already got a taste of you. Now he needs you as a whole. He needs you wet and ready for taking his cock by his full length.

*****************

Jungkook couldn't concentrate on anything he did the entire day. Be it the guitar lessons or the boxing practice, he was just out of his mind. More like, he was into your thoughts. The way your velvety walls felt around his fingers, the way you moaned out his name, the way you were ready to cream his fingers, all of it has been driving him crazy the entire day.

Now that he stands right at the door, he feels a bit nervous. What if you back off? What if you hate him now and don't want to surrender yourself going against your wills? What if you have already started preparing to move to a different dorm?

When he enters the dorm, it feels awkwardly silent. Gosh! Was his assumption right? But then he heard the shower running in the bathroom. He tiptoes towards it. He lets a sigh of relief out of his mouth after hearing you humming to yourself.

Leaving you all to yourself is not something Jungkook wants to do after this morning.

"Preparing yourself for me, kitten?" He asks. You turn off the shower.

"In your dreams, Jungkook." You reply just as cockily. He chuckles at your response.

"Don't be so aggressive, kitten and make it fast. I need to shower." He defends himself as he thinks he might have appeared to be quite desperate to get under your pants, which is certainly the case.

"Oh? Really? Then do you wanna shower together?" Unexpected. It was totally unexpected for you to say so and Jungkook is shocked to say the least. So, you finally wanna give in? Great then. He will take whatever you have to offer and he will offer whatever you can take.

"You have to unlock the door for that." He says as seductively as possible.

And then the door clicks open. He licks his lip before stepping in. Again he feels nervous, his heart skips a beat when you come into his view. Naked and wet. Fuck! This is the hottest scene he has ever seen! His dick instantly hardens as a result.

"Fuck, Y/N"

"I like kitten more."

"So, you're ready to surrender?"

"You mean, ready to make you surrender just like you did in the morning?"

Jungkook smirks. You're not wrong. He was the one to give in first and you just took his invitation.

You two stand facing each other in your small and narrow bathroom. He scans the entire place once, just so he can find a surface to fuck your brain out. And he makes peace with the bathroom wall.

"You can get out if you don't wanna do anything. I'm shivering you dickhead!" You growl.

"Patience, kitten. Patience." Now he eyes you, from head to toe. Fuck! You're so hot! Maybe not the hottest girl he has ever seen, but there's something in you that keeps him pulling in.

Your curves, boobs, and your dripping pussy, invite him like he has been starving for a while. Without wasting any more time Jungkook grabs the back of your head and attacks your lips. He guides you towards the wall to stable you against him.

Your response is quick and eager. You suck his lips just as urgently. You even lick the seam of his lips to taste him deeply, which he gives you ever so willingly.

Tongue collides with tongue as you two taste each other like starved sluts. Jungkook uses this time to his advantage to grip one of your legs and hook that around his waist. He doesn't care if he is getting wet. He is going to turn on the shower sooner or later anyway.

He runs his index finger down your slit once and you whimper between the kiss. He then finds your clit, which is a bit swollen, means you have been touching yourself. He will come to that later on. Placing his thumb on your bud he enters two of his fingers in your cunt. You bite his lips as if to encourage him to go on.

He parts his lips from yours and places a gentle kiss on the side of chin, which gradually goes down following the trail of your neck. The kisses get harsher as his fingers get faster. You tilt your head to grant him better access. And that helps him in finding a spot on the crook of your neck that makes you hiss his name out.

"Keep calling me just like this and I'll give you everything you want." He says while sucking your sweet spot.

Down there, things aren't any better. He presses that specific spot as his thumb gently rubs on your clit. You clench around his fingers and he knows you're close.

"You wanna cum, kitten?" He asks.

"Yes, but…"

"But?"

"On your face."

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow at you detaching himself from your collarbone as a smirk takes over your pretty lips, "If you thought, I would give in easily to you then you're wrong, Jungkook. You'll have to earn it. Otherwise what's the difference between the guy from last night and you?"

You take him by surprise when you hold his wrist and slide it out of your cunt.

"You're really something else." He chuckles at you as you reach out and turn on the shower. You work on your ways as you take off his tank top and attack his neck.

Jungkook loves how you're trying to dominate him and he decides to play for a while. So he lets you do whatever you want.

You suck on his neck to make claiming bruises. You place both of your hands on his shoulders and try to lower him down. He takes the cue and sits on his knee.

Now he is eye level with your dripping cunt. His mouth salivates at once and his dick gets painfully hard.

Jungkook hooks one of your legs on his shoulder to get better access to your fold. He licks a stripe of arousal and you curse.

"You like that kitten? You like me eating your sloppy cunt out? Aren't you a whore for that?" Jungkook asks.

"Yes. I am a whore for you." You reply and that sends blood rushing to his dick.

He dives down on your cunt and takes your clit between his lips. He sucks hard and harder.

"Fuck! Jungkook! Just like that!" You moan out.

He enters his tongue in your hole and moves that in a circular motion. You grip a handful of his hair to press him onto your pussy even more. The friction of his nose bridge on your clit is just delicious.

One of Jungkook's hands reaches to your breast and he takes your hardened nipple between his index finger and thumb. He abuses your nipple by twisting and pulling it just as much as he's abusing your cunt with his tongue.

He tongue-fucks you at a rapid pace as his thumb connects itself with your clit. He draws figure eight while reaching as deep as he can with his tongue.

You clench around him, "fuck! I'm close! Don't stop."

He doesn't stop this time, rather he increases his pace. You tug and pull his dark silky hair because of the uncontrollable pleasure he's providing you with.

Within a few moments, you cum. You creame his face with your arousal. Jungkook laps up your juices like a hungry animal.

He then smiles up at you as you unhook your leg from his shoulder.

You turn off the shower and grab your towel. However, it confuses Jungkook. You two seemed to continue? Or at least that's what he thought?

Just when you turn towards the bathroom door wrapping up the towel around yourself, he grabs your elbow.

"Where are you going?" He asks and you make an innocent face.

"To my room. Why?" You reply as if you just didn't cum on his face.

"What do you mean why? What's about this?" He points down at his erection through his wet sweats.

"Oh… you can jerk off by yourself, Jungkook." You wink and then leave him dumbfounded and wet in the bathroom.

taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @jkkkaaaaaaaahaiii @jiminscheekies @tatamicc @yourbobaeyestell @hoseokteardrop @lookformyvoice @vminizzle @pointofviewyugyeom

#bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts #jungkook #roommate au #hot jungkook

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