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#these and more questions will most likely never be answered
wonryllis · 24 hours
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the hot dad next door (m) | park sunghoon.
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﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝗱𝗮𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗼𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂?
preview. the ever quintessential first time dad moves in next door with his five year old and finds it impossible not to fall for you, the pretty girl who gives his daughter cookies and him; the doll eyes. obsessed with your entire being, unable to keep his hands off you, park sunghoon questions if he's just crazy or he's crazy over you.
or where, he notices the way you look at his hands a little too long for it to be innocent.
meet the cast. single dad!park sunghoon with his pretty neighbour fem!reader.
genre. DILFF AUU !!, SMUT MDNI, fluff, neighbours to lovers, sunghoon is quite literally yes insanely crazed over you and for the sake of god can't keep his dick soft, domestic a little bit i guess, i want to make her my wife trope EEEKKK, slight age gap (hoon in late twenties and reader in early twenties) more to be added.
word count. est around 10k (current wc, 2k)
warnings. inaccuracies about parenting cause i aint a parent, i got no idea. more will be mentioned in the actual post.
releasing. very soon!!
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park sunghoon was hot, he was a walking greek god. was single and wore these fitted suits that had you weak in the knees. if that wasn't hot enough, park sunghoon also had the cutest baby girl you had ever come across and it just made him hotter than he could ever have been.
"hey, um .. is ji—" sunghoon stands at the threshold of your open apartment door, one hand holding his creased blazer and the other rubbing at the back of his neck. embarrassed and shy at having to show up at yours looking like a mess after work because his daughter ran off while he was busy on a call and taking out her school bag from the backseat. and because everytime his daughter ran off, it was to the pretty girl next door who gives away sweet cookies all the time.
"is jia here? yeah she's in the kitchen," you answer, smiling soft and knowingly at the worried guy who barely looked like a dad. he worked in a corporate editorial, out before eight in the morning just as you prepared ingredients for your bakery. taking his daughter along to school, her excited voice resonating through the halls talking about how they were going to play with clay in class. around seven in the evening you'd hear her again, this time alone as she would skip over to your door because dada was too slow.
on weekends it'd be impossible to ignore the ruckus they made playing around, sometimes inviting you over for lunch because sunghoon apparently made too much and jia wanted to share her dada's delicious food. on some occasional weekends when he'd be called in to work for a few hours, jia would promise him to stay home and behave only to call you through the landline the moment he'd step out the door. and you would text sunghoon to come over to yours after work, his daughter munching on the new flavored cupcakes you made, unbothered about her dad and his scoldings.
"come on in, i made some almond lime tart, you could give me some feedbacks along with jia. you know she always says it's good and i can never know if it's actually good," sunghoon can't help but chuckle at that, slipping off his shoes by the front and walking inside. his eyes following your figure with a fond look as you tend to his daughter delicately, and might he admit— even more so than him.
you're sweet, you know how to handle kids; cue that one time jia was crying her eyes out after school and he had no idea what to do to comfort her, knocking at your door frantically and having his mind blown at how quickly you figured things out and calmed her down.
you're sweet, you know how to handle kids, you treat them both so well, always ready to help him out with jia, giving them sweet treats every other day and most of all— you're fucking pretty. way too pretty for him to handle.
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taglist ( open. ) @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @shawnyle @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @aaa-sia @niniissus @tobiosbbyghorl @imjakes-wifeofc1 @youresolivlie @eun-cherry @kimsunoops @aiden2001 @brownsugarbaybee @pockettwinzz @bangtancultsposts @diorikis @heelvsted @crimnalseung @iselltulips @yzzyhee @woniebae @river-demon-slayer @lovingvoidgoatee @antonsgirlfriend @kpopslover @bugcattie @slut4hee @yunjinswifee @woniefull @nanaheex @soobs-things @dammit-jjk @starlvcieszsq @mnxnii @skylaly
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dollfacefantasy · 1 day
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hiii i’m not sure if you particularly like writing hybrid!reader but can i pls request something with leon where he tries to feel out his bunny/dog hybrid gf’s kinks by seeing how her tail moves in response to them. like something she really likes she’ll wag her tail real fast and he finds it adorable
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pairing: leon kennedy x fem!puppy-hybrid!reader
summary: leon plays with his precious puppy girl by watching her tail
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, humping his boot, daddy kink, praise kink, breeding kink, scent kink, dacryphilia, and size kink
word count: 2.6k
a/n: no because i love this idea so much. it's been in my head since i got it. i hope i did it justice because i think it's so cute. thank you for sending it and i hope you enjoy <3
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Leon’s eyes rested upon his favorite sight in the whole world. His precious puppy girl kneeling at his feet. If he had to guess, he’d say it was your favorite place to be too. All signs pointed to that conclusion. Your eyes were wide and locked onto his face. Your body vibrated and squirmed with the urge to jump into his lap. And of course, the way your tail wagged back and forth.
Swish. Swish. Swish.
The fluffy appendage moves in a lazy rhythm right now. You were excited Leon was home and wanted to play, but you weren’t thrilled enough for it to turn to a blur. He chuckles and reaches a hand forward to rub your head. That gets it to speed up a little bit.
“You have a good day, pup?” he asks.
You scoot the slightest bit closer while nodding. You tilt your head to the side, squishing the flesh of your cheek against his knee.
“Yeah? What’d you do today?” he says.
“Took a nap. Watched the tv,” you answer, “You look tired, daddy.”
He smiles at your observation and scratches at the base of one of your ears. Those ears, which were perked up at the moment, were so sensitive to everything. The wind knocking something over outside, his car pulling up on the driveway, and of course, small changes in his inflection. 
Though he sometimes wondered if that’s all it was. He sees the way your tail picks up a notch when his lips curl upwards with that smile. He wondered, if not hoped, that it was something more than just your heightened physical capabilities. If maybe, there was something within you, something deeper, some instinctive emotional connection that bound you to him. That was probably wishful thinking. Someone who understood him implicitly. Still that was how he felt sometimes, and it was always lingering in the back of his mind when he watched your cute little ass wiggle back and forth with the movement of your tail.
“A little. Had a long day at work,” he tells you, continuing the conversation.
“Oh. Was it boring?” you inquire.
“You could say that,” he says.
“I get bored sometimes when you’re not here too,” you say.
The short, curt way you speak drives him up the wall. His hand on top of your head trails down to your cheek and gives it a little pinch before his thumb lands on your lips. Your tongue darts out to give the pad a small lick.
“Cute,” he murmurs as his fingers descend to your jawline and then your throat, “Why were you so bored, puppy? You have the whole house to yourself. You have enough toys to fill a room.”
“But I was missing my favorite toy,” you say, nuzzling against his leg.
“Oh, your favorite toy, huh?” he says. 
His fingers tease the edge of the smooth material that was wrapped around your neck. In place of a collar, you wore a pink satin ribbon. It bunched around to the front of your neck where it was tied in a pretty bow. Leon’s own handiwork. He never saw a reason to collar you. You were the most loyal little thing on the face of this Earth. Even if he kicked you out, you’d probably just take up residence on the mat at the front door. He’d rather you look like the spoiled princess that you were and dress you in the pink ribbon to match the other pink items you wore, your camisole and panties.
You nod at the question he asked, the ends of your bow swaying with your motion.
“Yeah? Well, tell daddy. What’s your favorite toy?” he prompts you.
Your hand snakes up to the front of his jeans and paws at the area where you would soon feel the outline of his hardening dick.
“That’s your favorite?” he asks, feigning ignorance, “Wow. If I'd known that, I wouldn’t have bought you all those stuffies. Coulda saved me a ton of money. Just let you sit on my cock most of the time, and you’d be satisfied.”
You shrug, not caring to roll that proposition around in your head for actual consideration. Sure you loved your toys, but they didn’t come close to one tucked away inside daddy’s jeans.
He grins not only because you’re so fucking cute, but also because he can see your tail starting to go faster. As much as he wants to pull you onto his lap and breed you till you’re a mess of drool and tears, he wants more tonight. You were nothing if not eager, and while he loved that, it meant that it didn’t take much effort from you to get him to cum in minutes. You’d just get so tight, you never suppressed any of your moans or whines, your face always scrunched up into needy expressions of euphoria…
Anyways. He just wanted to tease it out tonight.
“You have been a good girl today. I think you deserve some time with your favorite toy,” he says, watching the specific twitch when he said the two words of praise, “You wanna play with it right now?”
You nod almost as quickly as your tail wags. A sonorous laugh echoes from him. His eyes hold that glint that lets you know there’s more.
“What’s your favorite way to play with it, baby? You like bouncing on it?” he asks, his voice gaining an amused lilt.
You don’t respond with words. He knows your nodding, but his focus is on your backside where he’s getting the only response he needs.
Swish.
“Maybe you like taking it face down, whining into the pillow?” he continues.
Swish Swish.
“Or maybe you like being on your back, legs over daddy’s shoulders?”
Swish Swish Swish Swish Swish Swish Swish Swish Swish.
“I think that’s the winner,” he chuckles, “Why is that your favorite, pup?”
“It gets deeper,” you say. He watches as you try to be subtle about scooching closer. He wasn’t going to stop you though.
“Oh I see,” he says, nodding his head in mock realization, “You want it as deep as possible, right? And to do that, I have to pin you down, keep you underneath me where I can just fill that pussy up over and over. You like being helpless, princess?”
As his tone becomes more husky, you take your bottom lip between your teeth and nod. Your hips fight the urge to squirm, but your tail can’t stop flinging itself back and forth. A tingling flame had been lit inside your belly, one you desperately wanted him to put out.
“Yeah. You love when I’m in charge. You love when all you have to do is take it like a good girl, and you can just let that little brain melt away,” he taunts. With each swish of your tail, it’s like he can hear a game show buzzer ringing in his points.
You wrap your arms around his leg that was nearest to you and pathetically whimper out “daddy.”
“What is it, puppy?” he coos.
You look up at him and give him the definition of puppy eyes. “I want it. No more teasing,” you whine. Despite your demanding words, you stay put. You were a good girl after all, and good girls wait for permission.
“What? You want it?” he mocks, “What’s the rush, baby? You don’t like daddy’s voice anymore? You sure were liking it last night when you were all sleepy. Just whining and clinging onto me, begging me not to pull out.”
The movements of your tail start to become blurry as you remember the previous night. He’d fucked you so good and talked you through it the whole time. The main difference between now and then was that then you had his cock stuffed inside you while he spoke.
“I do like it,” you defend with a pout, “But I just want it, daddy. Please. Wanna be full of you.”
“Full,” he repeats, “Does daddy stretch you out? Make you feel like there’s no room for anything else?”
You nod again, but you can’t take it anymore. You scoot forward more so your knees rest on either side of his boot. His knee kisses the space beneath your chin while the rest of his leg is flush up against your tummy, going straight between your breasts. He knows what you’re about to do, but he’s fine with it. Tilting the tip of his boot upwards, he gives you silent permission to start rocking your hips.
That was all you needed to close the gap between the top of his shoe and your clothed cunt. Lowering yourself slightly, your puffy clit brushes the leather. You let out a tiny mewl. Your face was already starting to scrunch up into a cute little look from such a simple touch.
“That feel good, sweetheart?” he teases.
“Yeah, daddy. Thank you,” you whimper.
Your hips move back and forth as if on a pendulum. The rhythm is consistent like the pacing of your tail. Back and forth, back and forth.
“I think you soaked through your panties, pretty baby. You gonna get daddy’s shoe all nice and shiny? Make it smell like you?” he says with a smug grin.
“Uh huh,” you mumble. 
But when Leon mentions scenting his boot, your tail starts going crazy. Absolutely buck wild. He wouldn’t be shocked if you sprained something from how hard it was moving. God, he was getting hard. A solid tent had formed in the center of his lap from watching you. So precious, so adorable. Those pants and whines of pure lust. The way your fingers were digging into the leg you held onto like you needed it to survive. The nonstop rutting of your hips matching up with the wag of your tail.
“Woah woah. Think my girl might be a little possessive,” he says as he watches you. He keeps his tone light. He wanted this to play out before he let himself have any. To stave off his desires, he palms himself over the rough denim.
Your eyes catch that, and it’s almost comical how you nearly drool. “I just want everyone to know you’re mine. You're my daddy. They can’t have you,” you say, nestling your face against his legs.
Your own pleasure builds in the pit of your belly. You’d found the perfect amount of pressure on his boot. You just had to keep grinding your aching cunt into the leather.
“Poor baby. No one’s gonna take me from you,” he croons and strokes your head. His hand moves so much slower than any of your body parts and the contrast intensifies the pleasure further.
“Good,” you say.
“Mhm. Trust me, you keep my hands full as is,” he jokes.
He watches as you keep whining and humping his boot. Your hips move like you’re on the clock. He can feel drool starting to drip on his jeans and dampen the fabric. If only he could see your eyes. He knows they’re getting glossy, hazy with the bliss coming from between your legs. Lucky for him, a particular jolt of ecstasy pulls your head back and ends with your face looking up at him.
“You’re getting to daddy’s favorite part, honey. Keep going, Keep being a good girl,” he says. Again, your tail jerks when it registers the magic words. You snap your hips with renewed fervor, chasing the elusive high. His fingers press down harder against his cock as he sees the gleam of saliva coating your chin and lips.
“When do we get to my favorite part?” you babble. Your voice was starting to give as the warmth of carnal pleasure encroaches on your mind.
“And what is your favorite part?” he asks, knowing what your answer would be.
“The part when I actually get your cock,” you whimper.
He shakes his head. “Look at you. Trying to be smart while you’re going dumb,” he teases, “Quit complaining. You’re still getting to feel good, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, but it’s not the same,” you whine instantly.
“Oh really? It looks pretty similar to me,” he says.
You make a small sound that’s halfway between a whine and a growl. Even with your frustration though, your hips don’t stop.
“I’m just teasing you, pup,” he says, stroking your jaw with his free hand, “I guess it is different. I don’t see you crying like you do when I’m buried inside. I don’t get to see those pretty eyelashes all wet from tears.”
Your eyes roll back at the mention of being so fucked out you cry. It was one of your favorites, and Leon knew it. Being reduced to a crumpled mess of sobs against the heat of his chest got you like almost nothing else.
The reactions etched across your facial features are cute, but he can’t tear his focus away from your ass moving against its will through the force of your tail.
“But that’s not the big difference, is it?” he continues, “No. The real reason you want my cock is cause you want daddy to breed you, huh?”
As soon as it leaves his mouth, it’s like his mental buzzer is letting him know he’s won the grand prize. Everything about you goes haywire. You lock around his leg while your hips rut like you’re in heat. Your tail whips around so fast he thinks it could create a breeze.
“Uh huh, daddy- ah! Mm… just wanna be bred. Need it,” you ramble.
He feels his cock twitching in his pants. He’s sure when he actually does get it in you, he’s not gonna last too long. It’s straining against the zipper as is, and he can’t stop rubbing it. He’s almost as bad as you on the boot.
“I know you do. Silly little puppy. That’s always what you need,” he coos, “Just need to be pumped full of cum. My sweet girl.”
Your tongue is half lolled out of your mouth by this point. You’re past going dumb. Your head is swimming around in absolute thoughtlessness. Not a care in the world besides getting yourself to cum all over daddy’s boot.
He nearly groans out loud from the sight of it. He can feel the warmth of your pussy all over his shoe, the plush of your thighs clamped near the sides.
“You’re doing perfect, baby,” he mutters, “You’re gonna get your treat, I promise. Just let daddy watch you cum, and I’ll make sure you get your fill.”
You want to whimper “ok, daddy,” but your mind is too far gone for words. All that comes out is a strangled amalgamation of sounds accompanied by your head wobbling up and down. And the whole time swish swish swish.
Your swollen little clit had more than enough stimulation to get you to burst. Pants turn to gasps and fluid movements sharpen. You mumble against his leg, your lips squishing all over his pants and wetting them even more with your spit.
“That’s my good girl,” he purrs, which is enough to get another loud moan out of you. He chuckles and continues watching with his half-lidded, lustful eyes.
As the movement of your hips slow, your tail’s swings weaken. He still strokes your head as you catch your breath. Your chest puffs in and out while you feel your skin cooling down. It was hard not to get sleepy after you came, but before you have to worry about falling asleep at his feet, Leon scoops you up and holds you on his lap.
Rubbing your back, he presses some kisses to your forehead and temple. “There’s my girl. How’re you feeling, baby?”
“Good, daddy,” you mutter against his shirt.
“Yeah? You think you’re up for daddy breeding you for real now?” he whispers.
And suddenly, you’re not so sleepy. You sit up straight in time with your ears perking up. You nod and give him a lazy smile. He can’t see it, but he can feel that tail already starting to wag again.
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heich0e · 3 days
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"i won't be able to see you for a while."
the tokyo streets slip past outside your window, but your eyes aren't quite following the scenery. you feel a little dizzy thanks to the wine satoru kept pouring over dinner—filling only your glass, as usual. it was a vintage you could never have dreamed you'd get the chance to taste only a few short months ago; a luxury so distant that you'd never once even thought about what it might be like to try. now it lingers on your tongue, stains your lips slightly, feels familiar in ways you still struggle to reckon with.
you tilt your face towards the man sitting beside you in the back of the car that's taking you home.
"a while?" you ask him curiously, though that's perhaps not the most important query.
satoru hums, smiling a little to himself as his fingers press against the pulse point on your wrist. he's been toying with your hand ever since you left the restaurant, but you've hardly paid it any notice.
satoru's touch used to be limited to the spectacle. his hands only reaching out for you when someone was there to witness it. at one time, satoru would have changed cars before his driver took you home. at one time, he would have dropped your hand the moment the door shut behind you. but he doesn't now.
you've grown strangely used to this, too.
"are you going away for work again?" you ask him when he offers no further elaboration. it's not that you're particularly concerned with where he's going, or why, or for how long. satoru's life always has been, and always will be, solely his own. you're no more his keeper than you are his true fiancée—and the funds that will be deposited into your bank account by the time you make it home this evening are testament to that truth.
but you ask because it feels like the natural thing to do.
though very little about anything you do with satoru ought to be considered natural.
"no," the blonde answers, with that troublesome lilt of mirth in his voice that always seems to precede something unpleasant. you don't ask any more questions in an attempt to ward it off.
soon you reach your destination, the rest of the car ride spent in silence after your brief but relatively benign exchange earlier in the drive. you glance out through the window towards your apartment—a building so utterly unremarkable that the sumptuous interior of the restaurant you visited that evening feels palatial by comparison.
satoru's not allowed to walk you to your door anymore. his harsh, obnoxiously unfiltered criticism of your building—of your home—each time he so much as caught a glimpse of the interior had grown so grating, you'd barred him from entering any further than the entrance to the lobby.
instead, his assistant nanami is the one who silently escorts you to your unit door each night, at satoru's unyielding insistence. he'd been surprisingly terse about it when you'd initially attempted to dissuade him, reminding him (more than once) that you make the walk to your own door every day alone and have thus far lived to tell the tale. but the options he firmly presented in reply—the only two you knew you had to choose from—were either to be escorted by nanami, or let him walk you there himself. you knew that there would be no reasoning with him otherwise, sensed it in the way he held you so fixedly in his stare that day, so you chose nanami.
now each night after satoru accompanies you on the ride home after your engagements, his stoic, well-mannered assistant dips in a polite bow at your door and wishes you goodnight before departing once he knows you've made it safely inside.
behind the wheel up front, nanami slips out from his seat, exiting the vehicle and coming around to your door to open it and let you out. the door cracks open as he pulls the handle, but all of the sudden it comes clacking closed again.
satoru is leaning over you—his weight, his warmth, the sheer breadth of him a little staggering from this close up, especially so unexpectedly—holding the door firmly shut by the handle. he stares at you down the bridge of his nose, unblinking.
"i'll see you... when i see you," you breathe out, surprisingly meek, as you sit frozen in your seat beneath him.
satoru says nothing, just watches you curiously. there's a glimmer of something that swims behind his eyes—that look he gets where you can't help but be reminded of a child playing with a new toy—that makes you shift nervously.
"you really don't want to know?" he asks you, and he's so close you can almost taste the words on his lips.
this is too near, even by his peculiar standards. satoru's hand is still wrapped tightly around the door handle to keep it closed. his body pinning you into the corner of the backseat.
you can't help but feel on edge when you're trapped like this with nowhere else to go.
"know what?" you ask him. your head is still spinning from the wine, but it's almost worse now. maybe it's only just really beginning to hit your bloodstream.
"where i'm going," satoru goads, "how long i'll be gone."
you swallow thickly. "that's none of my business."
"of course it is," satoru replies, feigning hurt. "we're engaged. it's a fiancés right to know where their partner is and what they're doing, any time they'd like."
your brow pinches in confusion. you have no interest in knowing those kinds of things, much less feel any right to know them, given the circumstances. your bewilderment leaves you at a loss for words.
"my rut's coming, you see," satoru explains, his lashes fluttering softly as he says it. it wouldn't feel so strange if his lip weren't curling up in a smirk all the while. "so for the next week or so i'll be... indisposed."
your mouth feels dry.
"oh," you manage to say, though it's not really anything at all.
one of satoru's brows quirks curiously at the sound.
"it wouldn't normally be an issue," he continues, though you didn't ask him to. "but this will be my first rut i've spent alone since i presented, so i'm not sure how long it will last."
your lips part in shock.
"alone?" you sound every bit as astonished—as scandalized—as you feel. an alpha of satoru's rank spending his rut alone is unheard of. "what about the omega servic—"
"i would never pay for those kinds of services."
satoru's tone is uncharacteristically cold as he dismisses the mere notion of it. even as a beta, you know that omega services are perfectly legal, and are strictly regulated nowadays—but upon further reflection, you're not all that surprised by his seeming revulsion towards the idea. a family as powerful as the gojo clan likely has their own reserve of omegas, each one of the highest pedigree, to attend to the needs of their unmated alphas. hell, the most eligible omegas in the country would willingly accompany him if he were to ask. you avert your gaze under his cold stare, you feel a bit silly for even suggesting—
"i have no interest bringing any omega into my bed."
your eyes snap up to meet his.
that little glimmer is still there, behind the impossibly clear blue of his eyes.
"will you take suppressants?" you find yourself asking next. still meek.
satoru's face screws up in disgust.
"that garbage is toxic," he sniffs indignantly. "snake oil like that wouldn't work on me anyway."
you remember learning about this in health class as a teen. remember how shocked you were to learn that the efficacy of suppressants decreases depending on how strongly someone's secondary gender characteristics present. it's always felt a bit backwards to you—shouldn't the strongest, least-controllable members of the population be the ones there's the most interest in subduing?
and an alpha as high ranking, as dominant, as satoru is every bit the example.
"no," he sighs, and suddenly any trace of irritation or sterness dissipates as though he's released it along with his breath. his weary tone is too thickly affected to be sincere. "i'll just have to suffer through it on my own."
from the corner of your eye, you can see nanami shift where he stands and waits outside the door, and all at once you remember where you are.
you turn your body away from satoru, angling yourself (as much as you're able) towards your exit.
"well, good luck," you attempt to sound encouraging, but the words still come out slightly ill-at-ease. you reach for the door handle, hoping satoru will get the message and release it so you can take your leave. "let me know if you need anything."
satoru's hand doesn't move.
"do you really mean that?"
you flinch a little as his lips brush the shell of your ear. he's pressed up against your back now—the planes of his chest firm against your shoulder blades as he drapes himself over you.
you're frozen again, your hand still outstretched towards his at the handle—poised in midair. the lights from outside the car glint tauntingly in the diamond on your ring finger.
his breath is hot as it breaks against your throat.
your chest feels uncomfortably tight.
"would you really help me if i were to ask?"
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milkywayhou · 3 days
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Hello!
You mention that Familiar!König is VERY protective with his master. But imagine that there's some rumours in the nearest village about a strong and evil witch deep in the forest. And they gathered the witch hunter and try to kill the witch!
What would könig do?
Hii! Thanks for the question!! (It took me almost a few months to answer it)
Mmm.. what König would do if someone try to kill his beloved master, huh? The answer is kinda obvious that he gonna kill them first before they got any chance to harm you! :(
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It was a shame when you start to hearing those rumours about yourself when you're already settled down in your new cabin deep in the forest :( though you wouldn't lie the fact being labels as strong evil witch is almost boost your pride and ego — almost. But now you got another problem, the villagers start to hired and sent a group of strong witch hunter to haunt you because they think you're dangerous!!! Of course they were never able to finish their job since like the rumours says, you're one of the strong witch and you have your most loyal familiar to handle them... König.
He looks almost too ecstatic when he enter the cabin, body cover with the blood of the witch hunters, leaving a trail of mess in the wooden floor. In normal day you probably will scolding him for making the floor dirty, but not today. You didn't care about it anymore as you packed all your belongings inside your bags. You've been planning to move out from your comfy cabin because you know, the villagers will send more hunters for your head if they found out how your familiar killed the previous group they sent, he probably ate them too to erase the evidence.
For König, he didn't really care if you decide to move into another place again despite just move in this place a few months ago — For him, you were his home, The only home he knows. He knows human are far more dangerous threat for your kind, they're week but the can work together and getting more smart over these years — a greedy creature, he thought. Even though for him, killing them is like step on insects. He enjoys hear them scream as he crushed their bone and lead then to met their end.
All of this can be avoided if they're wise enough to leave you alone, his precious little witch. He will always happily kill for you if only that means he can protect you and your light. He wouldn't asked for nothing more than to have your hands patting him as he leans himself against your soft body.
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shootingstar-scuderia · 13 hours
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shoot an arrow through my heart
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max verstappen x reader
there's something you need to hear max say, but you're not sure if he's actually going to say it. you do know one thing though, it was always gonna be you and max.
a/n: started this longer ago than i'd like to admit but here we are! a big thank you to my fave beta reader K and to @scuderiahoney who helped me figure out all the banner image stuff. based on prompt #966 from this list.
masterlist
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It starts with Lando. Because doesn’t it always? 
Lando says shit he doesn’t mean, Lando says things just for the sake of saying them. Lando says things as if they are fundamentally truths when they are in fact are lies.
And so, one moment you’re hanging out with Lando, letting him talk you down from buying the little trinket of the week you’ve fixated on, and the next he’s saying that Max is in love with you, saying it like it’s a truth, and then moving on as if he hasn’t just tilted your world on its axis.
And then, before you know it, you’re banging on Max’s front door trying to figure out if it’s true or not. 
Trying to figure out if your best friend is in love with you.
“Max! Open the door.”
He doesn’t.
You honestly don’t know if you want him to, or what you’re going to do when he does. Or if he even will, Max doesn’t know you’re here and you don’t even know if he’s home.
You’re just about ready to search for the spare key, the one you told him to hide in the firehose down the hallway because having a fake rock in front of his door makes no sense when he lives in an apartment building, when the door is flung open and a very grumpy looking Max, headset in hand, is giving you just about the most fed-up, unimpressed, stare you’ve seen in your life.
“Are you in love with me?” You can’t help it, the words foreign on your tongue but there’s an urgency to get them out and into the space in between you. You’re so desperate to hear him say it back.
Max blinks at you, bewildered at your words. You can see the gears turning in his head trying to work out what you just said and if you’re being honest you don’t know if you should be offended at the fact that the answer isn’t an immediate yes.
His brow furrows and his lips purse, “what?”
A beat passes, and then another, and then the idiot actually has the audacity to close the door.
You roll your eyes, even if he can’t see it you know that he knows that you’re doing it. As you push the exasperation out of your lungs you knock again.
“Max, nuh-uh, that is not going to work, open the door and answer my question.”
Nothing.
You bang your fist on the door one more time for good measure, “Max, you know I know where your spare key is and we both know that I’ll let myself in if necessary.”
It’s true and he knows it. 
There have been many nights where you’ve verged on the edge of too far gone and walked from the club to his apartment. Nights where you didn’t want the fun to end so instead of going home you go to Max’s where you can cuddle and coo at Jimmy and Sassy and sit around in comfy clothes and watch as Max putters around doing whatever it was he was doing before you came over.
It’s true. He knows it. But still, he doesn’t open the door.
You sigh and softly thump your forehead against Max’s front door, through the absence of your knocking you can hear his nervous shuffling on the other side. The inquisitive meows from the cats, the faint scrape of the peephole cover as Max checks to see if you’re still there, if you’re still waiting for him. 
You would wait for him for forever, but that’s just for you to know really.
Max opens the door again, just the barest amount. Just enough so his eyes, wide and disbelieving can lock onto yours. 
They’re so blue, you don’t know how you never noticed it before, so classically storybook blue that you’re really starting to wonder if this is all some kind of weird dream where you’re standing at his doorstep begging to be loved by him, like some kind of cheesy romcom star. Because after all, aren’t you just a girl standing in front of a guy?
“You’re in love with me.”
The words stretch the impossible distance between the two of you. Even when he’s halfway around the globe he’s never felt this far away.
And still, somehow, you feel too close to him. Like somehow all the other versions of you and him have been false proxies to what you’re reaching for right now. Like all of a sudden, somehow, he’s been molded into your every contour of your soul and you don’t want anything else
The door edges open a little wider.
“Are you asking me that or are you telling me?”
He’s stalling, you both know it. But, you can’t really bring yourself to do more than give him a fondly smile and roll your eyes at him. Because you know, if the roles were reversed, if he was the one throwing pebbles like some kind of suave Dutch romeo, demanding to know if you were in love with him, you would be doing the same thing.
“You and I both know how much you like being told what to do.” With a sigh Max opens the door to his apartment a little wider once more to let you in, “and yet, you’re still here telling me to open my door.”
You can’t really fault him for that one can you?
You make your way to the living room where you settle down on your spot on the couch while Max flits around the living room. Sassy is meowing at Max, desperate for a taste of the outside she only ever gets when the front door opens, and even though he knows she’s not going to make a run for it he still takes the time to half-heartedly shoo her away.
Max does this, dragging his feet, until both of the cats have curled up next to you on the couch and it is only then that he makes his way over to you. Coming to stand behind the armrest on his side of the couch, putting a little too much distance between the two of you for you to not feel spurned by him.
You can hear it in silence between you, you can feel it in the way your body seems to ache from having him in the ways you have him now and not in the ways you want to have him.
You’re not ready to have this conversation.
There’s a part of you that almost wants to say nevermind and forget that you even said anything in the first place. But deep down you know that the two of you have been putting on this elaborate dog and pony show for far too long. You’re only delaying the inevitable.
“So,” you say, nervously running your fingers over the fabric of the couch. “Is it true?”
You try to catch his eye as you say it, not only to try to make sure he doesn't chicken out but to see the reaction he gives. You want to see his soul and know that he means whatever he says.
But Max doges your gaze at every move in a way that makes him look like a kicked puppy. And you’re not really sure what it means but you can feel the way the dynamic has shifted. All of a sudden the two of you are on shaky ground, not sure where you stand with each other. Even though two hours earlier you would have called him your best friend with your entire heart.
“Well?”
“Please,” he says your name, strained and with a weight to it that you don’t quite want to acknowledge, “don’t make me say it.”
You’re not above begging, you really aren’t, but something about the way he sounds makes you falter. Just a little.
“Max,” you say his name softly, “I think you and I both know what your answer is going to be.”
“Then why do you need to hear it so bad?” His words bite, tinged with an anger that you know he doesn't really mean. “So, I can say it back!” Your words match the sharpness in his and you can see how much they throw Max off kilter.
He blinks at you and then rocks on his feet, first a step forward and then a step back like he’s blown away by the force of what you said. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Why did you never tell me?”
You cross your arms and shrug your shoulders, “it was a personal issue.”
“You being in love with me kind of also involves me.” 
You really don’t want to admit that he’s right on with that one.
You huff and shrug your shoulders again, “well it goes both ways, why didn’t you say anything?”
“I asked first,” Max shoots back.
You groan at his response and launch yourself up towards Max in a play attempt to strangle him. “Argh, you’re so!” You drape your arms over his shoulders as you slump against him, head resting in the spot where his shoulder meets his neck, “God I hate you.”
Max laughs underneath you, his arms coming up to wrap around your waist, “you evidently don’t.”
“You're so silly,” you sigh, tilting your head up to look at him. "You want to hear me say it so bad."
Your nose nearly brushes against his, he’s so close you think you could count every single one of his eyelashes if you tried.
Max makes a noise that’s somewhere between exasperated and surprised and you know that you’re toeing the line with your teasing
You always know when to give in when it comes to him.
“Okay, yes, I love you! I love you,” you say, “do you love me?”
“Yeah, I do,” Max says as he moves to cradles your jaw in his hands. “I love you.”
You grin, “good. Now kiss me please.”
And he does. He does and it feels like all the cliche things people say. It feels like coming home, it feels like fireworks are going off in the background, it feels like you were meant to be, that he was made for you just as much as you were made for him.
And you just know. You know that there can never be anyone else but him. That there was a version of you before Max and now there’s going to be a version of you that’s with Max, but there’s never going to be a you after Max.
“I love you.” Softer, quieter this time.
You don’t dare look him in the eye, instead choosing to press your cheek against his and stare out the window of his apartment. Your gaze settles somewhere in the distance as you try to memorize the feel of his body pressed up against yours.
You curl your fingers around the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging absentmindedly as you say, “I’m glad that worked out, I didn’t even know you were home.”
He pulls away from you to fix you with a look that is so quintessentially Max, “you have my location on your phone, you’re always stalking me,” he says, punctuating his words with little jabs to your shoulder.
It’s true, and you honestly don’t know why you didn’t try to check his location in the first place, your logic getting lost somewhere in the panic of knowing that he loved you. 
“Mhmm.” You shrug noncommittally, trying very hard to ignore the rushing feeling of warmth in your chest that comes with the realization that Max was so ingrained in your life and you in his from the start. 
You try not to think about the fact your toothbrush sits next to his in his bathroom, about the fact that your hand automatically gravitates to his favorite spoon in your cutlery drawer, the one you can identify solely based on the weight of it in your hand. You try very hard to think about how you couldn’t separate the love from the friendship.
It was always gonna be you and Max. 
There’s a silence between you for a moment. You try to match your breath to his and let the sounds of outside filter through your ears. And for a moment you can hear how the rest of the world keeps turning, even when your world has stopped spinning on its axis.
“So, what now?” Max asks, turning his head to press kisses to your hairline, his hand squeezing your waist. You can feel his nose brush against your temple as he makes his way down, lips featherlight on your skin. The intimacy of it makes your blood sing with electricity. 
You pull “Mhmm, you could take me to bed?”
It’s half serious, half a joke. You’ve waited so long to have Max like this that now that you finally do you want him in all ways possible. But still, there’s some young and girlish part of you that wants it to be special.
Max pretends to think about it for a little bit and it’s so impossibly silly that you have to resist the urge to strangle him again for it, “it’s three in the afternoon, I think it’s a little early for sleep.”
“You know that’s not what I mean, stop being a smartass.”
Max smiles, taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together. “Well,” he says, “how about I send you home so you can get all nice and pretty for me and then I’ll come pick you up and take you to a nice dinner, hmm?”
You flush, not just from the way he pours honey, slow and sweet, into your ear, but from the way it feels like this was always meant to be. Like you were always meant to have this, always meant to have him. 
“And then,” he says, dropping your hand to pull you in by your belt loops so your hips are press flush against his, “after dinner, that’s when I’ll take you to bed.”
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ozzgin · 3 days
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Yandere! Bad Guy x Reader
I am currently in my Natural Born Killers nostalgia, and so I'm borrowing its vibes and bringing you this: a bad-to-the-bone, rock-and-roll attitude yandere who constantly makes you question your own morality. Featuring an old OC!
Content: gender neutral reader, violence, murder, male yandere
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He fell in love with you at first sight. A goody two shoes, quiet and obedient. Shy. Oh, terribly shy. You couldn't even meet his eyes. He knew you were the kind others would step on, take advantage of. But there was more to it, much more to uncover.
Who was it? A relative, a friend, a coworker? You know, that person holding you back, keeping you in your place. The one who'd always make you feel small and insignificant. The one who would always find something to criticize. How did it feel when you found them on the ground, bashed in and bloodied up? He was standing above the lifeless body, catching his breath, a cocky smile plastered on his face. His way of courting you.
He looked so tall in that moment, towering above your hesitant self, his gaze of a confidence and intensity you'd never known before. "Well? What are you waiting for? Get in", he said, gesturing towards a convertible he most likely stole earlier that day. What possessed you in that moment to join him without delay? Was it his charisma? Or did you know in the depth of your soul that he wouldn't take no for an answer?
You see, he's known it from the beginning. Someone like you needs someone like him. You’re a sweet little lamb lost among the wolves. The world would eat you right up if you were left by yourself. But now you have him. And he won't let his precious prey get away. Oh, dear, no. If he wants something, he gets it. And he's never wanted anything more than you.
"You didn't...even tell me your name", you sheepishly spoke up from the passenger seat, trying to keep your mind away from the crime you'd just witnessed. "Just call me Tig", he said casually with a yawn, speeding away. "Won't you be in trouble, Tig? Why would you even kill-" you tried to reason. "What kinda question is that? They treated you like shit and it pissed me off." He glanced at you with a frown, taking another drag off his cigarette. "You're mine now, so whatever happens to you is my business. Got it?" You just stared. Was that his way of asking you out?
Tig lives by his own rules, as you quickly learned from becoming his companion. Always on the run, indifferent to the world. For the most part, to your surprise, he's well-behaved. If people don't mess with him, he doesn't mess with them. Simple as that.
Anything involving you, however, sets him off terribly. Like a rabid, ferocious guard dog, he's ready to pounce on whoever approaches you the wrong way. Last week you stopped at a highway diner for coffee, and on your way back to your table, you jokingly pulled a clumsy dance move to the song playing from the speakers. Tig observed you with an amused smile, sipping from his cup. A passerby joined you, resting his arm on your waist flirtatiously. Tig's smile dropped in an instant, and next thing you knew, the whole place was splattered in blood. No one made it out.
"I didn't even finish my coffee", you whined, already used to the occasional massacre. The man hopped behind the counter and threw on a bloodied cap. "What will it be, sir/ma'am?" he pretended, dangling a takeaway cup and starting the espresso machine. "I never told you, but I used to be a barista", he declared proudly. An entirely different person from the unhinged killer you witnessed minutes ago. "What? You said you were a mechanic", you questioned with raised brows. "That's also true. I'm a jack of all trades, I suppose. You know what I'm best at, though?" He lowered himself until his forehead touched yours. "Pleasing you."
The man is romantic in his own way. He twists the key, and the engine stops. You follow him out of the car in confusion. "Why did we stop here?" He briefly lifts himself up onto the tall fence securing the bridge, and inhales deeply. "Isn't it a nice view?" he says, nodding ahead. It is a scenic sight, sure. The river slithers along the lush valley, and the setting sun gives everything a dramatic tint. "Give me your hand", he suddenly demands as he goes to grab it himself. Before you can ask for an explanation, he quickly drags a blade across your palm, and you wince in pain. He repeats the gesture with his own hand, locking his fingers with yours over the rail. You watch as fresh blood trails along your skin, eventually falling into droplets and vanishing into the river. "Now we're going to be everywhere", he remarks playfully. "Okay, but what was the point?" you insist, a little baffled.
"Isn't it obvious? Maybe this will help", he continues, procuring a ring from his pocket. "I'm saying I want to marry you, (Y/N)."
You open your mouth to answer, but he already slides it up your finger, eyes glimmering in excitement.
"You're never getting away from me, love."
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spooky-pop · 21 hours
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Hello, I really love your broppy kid Ivy. Could you tell us more about her?
Yeah! Any specific questions I can answer? I can share just my current thoughts and ideas about her and what I'm working on.
Ivy was an "oops" baby, lol! What started as Branch having an off day turned into chaos when he noticed an egg in the middle of the night after he was unable to sleep. Poppy was the calm one but Branch was completely terrified at first, and Ivy ended up becoming his whole world. Ivy shows strong resemblance to Grandma Rosiepuff, which melts Branch and softens his heart. She starts as an only child but eventually gets a sibling.
(old old old quick sketch of his initial shock lol)
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(Fun fact, I pulled a bunch of inspiration and influence for her design from Viva's concept art! Her hair and colors, I always love sharing this little fact tbh)
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She definitely has Poppy's personality but amplified as a child, her energy is off the walls and she keeps her parents' hands full, at least until she hits her teens. She was a wild child, constantly getting into trouble but she was just being a kid. As a young adult her personality shifts, and she becomes calmer yet more sassy, haha. She is very family oriented, and loves to bond with her aunts and uncles.
(Example of Ivy shenanigans...Branch is not happy with her because she went and got herself all dirty before they had a royal family appearance to attend)
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Most Trollings can start singing from a very little age, but Ivy did not sing for the first time until she was probably 14. Branch and Poppy never rushed her, but it was odd that their daughter was the only one who was shy about anything musical considering it was in her blood. She did sing, just by herself. She has a confident exterior but deep down she cares a lot about how she's perceived, since she is destined to become queen one day. She does overcome her shyness and becomes a great performer.
A lot of the story I have figured out focuses on her as a teen and young adult, and how she navigates life as princess. In her original ref I made, it has more info on her personality. And I hope to post another part to it soon!
Bonus: Sleepy parents with their new baby
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Hope you like!
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toomanywatchers · 2 days
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So I saw this popular post floating around amid the Watcher drama-
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-and here is my response to that with some iconic Watcher quotes:
Shane: "What's the deal with cousins?" - in TMS season 3
Ryan: "Hey dipshit, are you scared?" - in TMS season 3
Steven: "What's the trauma version of nostalgia?" Shane: "Trauma?" - in Pod Watcher ep 5 (aka the glorious Nose Soap Apple ep)
Shane: "I don't like people to acknowledge me as a human being." - in Are You Scared of Working Out
Ryan: "Class dismissed, you little blue ball sack." - in Puppet History's The Dreadful Demise of the Dinosaurs
Steven: "Who cares, man!" - in Making Watcher ep 4
Shane: "As soon as there's an element of competition, my brain just quits" - in Weird Wonderful World Roller Derby ep
Ryan: "You killed me!" Shane: " You're dead?" Ryan: "Yeah, because you asked for a blowjob." - in Survival Mode Demonologist
Steven: "Oh, I can't process the world right now." - Steven Eats Through Korea for 24 Hours Straight
Bonus one from the Patreon because I think about this moment at least once a day:
*answering the question on when would a gen z bark* Sam: "during doggy style?" Shane in disapproving dad voice: "Sam!"
and that is just a few quotes that I think about or quote from time to time. If you have a favorite quote and want to add to this post to out-ratio the original blogger- go for it!
Now my little rant that I've been trying to keep in but imma just add it here: it seems that most of the haters throwing out nasty comments seem to be old BFU fans who only watch Ghost Files and can not let go of the past and does not realize that BFU has been over for almost 3 years now. Guess what?
It's.
Never.
Coming.
Back.
It's totally ok to miss and grieve the loss of something you love, but continuously comparing Watcher to just BFU is tiring. Watcher is so much more than BFU, and if you guys would just simply read Watcher's company motto then you would know that.
So how about instead of living in 2018, you come and join us in 2024 and recognize that Shane Madej, Ryan Bergara, and especially Steven Lim are still fucking hilarious alongside the wonderful team at Watcher.
ps: I decided to use a screenshot and cut out the name instead of reblogging the op's post because I simply do not want to give them any more attention.
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utterlyotterlyx · 3 days
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When I Became a Believer
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Azriel Fem!Reader
Part Four
Summary - After dancing under the stars, you wake up and find yourself reuniting with a male you never thought you'd encounter again. Though, lurking fragments of your past life in Spring rear their ugly heads and you find that a certain someone isn't ready to let you live happily ever after.
Warnings - fluff, old friends reuniting, some angst, mentions of past trauma, slight ptsd themes.
Part four of the 'When I Kissed The Teacher' series - sorry it's taken so long! My inspiration has been very Eris driven recently.
Part One - When I Kissed the Teacher
Part Two - When I Met The Devil
Part Three - When I Danced Under The Stars
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The warmth of the sunlight drifting through the slightly ajar curtains wasn't the thing that woke you that morning.
No.
It was Azriel's strong arm flung over your side which awoke you, more like made you jump from your skin at the groggy half-asleep haze you'd awoken to. The bed you lay in was usually yours alone, and it had been an extremely long time since you had allowed anyone into that space, since you had allowed someone to hold you.
Azriel was shirtless, clad in a black pair of loose cotton pants and little else, he lay on his front with his wings tucked back, your bed wasn't made to accommodate the Illyrian wingspan, and you frowned softly when you realised just how uncomfortable he must have been.
As if they had sensed you, his shadows danced over his shoulders and down his arm, peppering your face in sweet kisses as they coiled over your cheeks, one of them slithered backward and you watched it with a soft smile as it hovered by his ear. A lazy smirk fell on his lips and his voice called to you, as rough and warm as whisky, "You're staring."
"I can't help it," he squeezed the skin beneath your clothed him, you were drowned in a sheer lilac nightgown, and Azriel shuffled your positions so that his wings go stretch out a little, pulling you into his side and curling his wing around you, "I'm sorry for the bed, I know it's not exactly the best size for your wings."
Azriel hummed, eyes still half-closed, sunlight streaking over the right side of his face, "It doesn't bother me," he craned his neck to peer down on you, his eyelids blinking slowly as they adjusted and began to wake, "It was perhaps the most peaceful sleep I've had for awhile."
Tracing small shapes on his taut and exposed chest, you asked, "Really?"
"Really," his calloused fingers entwined themselves in your own, and he lifted your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly, "How are you feeling?"
It was a question that you didn't really know how to answer, but you tried, "I'm okay. Part of me is still shaken up from seeing him, I think it'll take some time to believe that he's not going to do something to me. I just wasn't ready to remember it all so suddenly, I suppose."
Azriel had made it very clear that you needn't tell him about the details of your life before Velaris, not if you didn't want to, and if you never did, Azriel was also at peace with that. The past life you had lived did not define you, your home court and family name did not define you, what defined you was what shone through the cracks in the darkness, the kindness and unwavering loyalty and irrevocable devotion to his family.
"I understand," his shadows floated over you, almost embracing you themselves, and Azriel made no move to pull them away, "If you're reconsidering meeting with Lucien, if you're not ready, then you don't have to see him."
Shaking your head, you sighed, "No. It's been so long," you looked to him through your lashes and sent him a reassuring smile, "Lucien saved my life, and I never had to chance to really thank him before he threw me on that horse and sent me away."
There was no reality that existed where you would ever say no to reuniting with Lucien, the male who kept you sane and made you feel seen and heard, the only male in your life at that point who had refused to stand by and watch the torture unfold.
Azriel pressed his lips to your forehead, his fingers caressing the side of your face as he pulled you closer into his side, wrapping both of his arms around you and relishing in the contact of your warmth and light, "I'll go and get us breakfast," he mumbled into your hair, letting his lips trail downward until they caught yours in a quick but tender kiss, a fleeting thing that felt natural.
You whimpered as he pulled himself from the bed, flexing his wings and rolling his neck, to pop the stiffness from them. Gazing back at you, he smirked, leaning over the side of the bed and kissing you again, humming against your lips before pulling back slightly, "I could get used to this."
"What?" Your fingers trailed along the curve of his jaw and his eyes bore into yours.
"Waking up next to you," the tip of his nose sloped down your own and then he pulled away entirely, tugging a shirt over his chest that he must have gone to retrieve once he had put your sleeping body to bed the night before, "Have a bath, I'll be back soon."
The silence yearned for him to return, but you waited a few moments before rising, the warmth of the sun washed over you through the fully opened curtains which illuminated your entire room, a room that held the mingled scents of you and Azriel. It wrapped the space in an ethereal, untouchable shield of sorts.
Laughter echoed from beyond the window and you took minute to appreciate it all, the looming mountains that had kept you hidden from the moment you had stepped into Velaris from Hewn City, the gardens and fields that were littered in every space possible, birthing life and beauty, and you bowed to the notion that perhaps you were safe, that Velaris was your home and you belonged there.
Though, as you peered at your own garden, expecting to see the array of blush pink and lilac tulips swaying in the wind, you frowned as your eye caught something out of place. A single tulip with petals of burgundy. To anyone else it would represent love, to anyone else, it wouldn't mean anything at all.
But you were from Spring, and you knew flowers. In all of the time you spent locked up at that manor playing pet to Tamlin, you had learnt every meaning of every beautiful flower in existence, he knew that.
That's why the sight of those blood-red petals made your heart flutter. It was a warning, an angry warning of the wrath you would face. That flower wasn't what unsettled you though, it was the fact that it had been so delicately placed in the garden of your home, like he was taunting you, telling you that he knew where you were.
You wished you could have laughed it off like it was a silly thing of nothingness, you knew anyone else would. So, you gobbled it down and supressed that fleeting feeling telling you to run as far and as fats as your legs could carry you. Azriel would protect you.
Right?
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It had taken buckets full of courage to leave the confinements of your home, half of you didn't want to step outside, the image of that lone red tulip swaying in a different direction than the rest playing on a constant in your mind.
But Lucien was waiting for you.
Rhys had arranged it, the meeting at the River House, a much more informal abode compared to that of the House of Wind. Calling it a meeting alone was too formal for you to handle, what would you call two friends reuniting after such a time apart? Not a meeting, that was for sure.
Exhaling shakily, you couldn't bring yourself to move from the foot of the path, the last time you had been there you had seen him, and you couldn't be completely sure he wouldn't be there waiting for you again.
Sensing your doubt, Azriel laced his fingers with yours, and offered a soft smile, one that you couldn't quite return, "We can leave," he told you, he had watched you get ready, he had watched you change your outfit seven times until you settled on a pale blue sun dress with puffy sleeves and a white lace corset moulded into the bodice.
He had told you that you looked beautiful and breath-taking, and you had merely muttered a small thank you before taking his outstretched hand. Azriel noticed your clammy palms, he didn't move away from you as your free hand clasped around his bicep, using him as a crutch.
"No. I'm okay. Just give me a second," you squeezed your eyes closed, taking a moment to steady your breath and work up the courage to enter the home and live the dream you had always drifted to, "Okay," you opened your eyes and glanced upward at him through your lashes, "I'm ready."
The path seemed to widen as you strode up the cobbled stone, the windows brightened at your approach, and you could faintly see, and hear, Lucien chatting away within the home. He hadn't changed one bit, a blessing really considering what Tamlin could have done to him if he had known that Lucien was the catalyst of your disappearance.
Faltering slightly, you stopped at the door, not knowing whether it was rude or not to just walk in, and Azriel let you decide what would be best. The door vibrated under your curled fist, three curt knocks sounded on the wood, and you took a step back and waited.
Velaris had been shrouded by the heatwave that had drifted up from the Summer Court, the walk to the house was full of visions of ladies fanning themselves and children swimming in the ponds and lakes within the city, ice cream vendors had set up on every corner, but you couldn't stomach a sweet treat, even if it would save you from the searing heat prickling at your skin.
Let's just say that you were glad you had opted for a dress that was lightweight.
The oak door opened to reveal Rhys, he grinned at you, clearly excited for what he was able to witness in that moment. Then, he glanced to Azriel who you saw nod from the corner of your eye, not caring at all about the silent conversation between them as your eyes delved further into the home, expecting to see your former fiancé lingering in the shadows.
"Come in," Rhys spoke, laying a comforting hand on your shoulder.
Azriel stepped forward first, knowing that if he didn't pull you inside that you may bolt from the situation altogether.
Laughter echoed from the next room, that deep joyous sound that you had yearned to hear for too long, "I'm glad to see you," Rhys towered over you, he always had, but you had never found it threatening, you had found it more loving than anything.
The skin around your fingernails was red and sore, you hadn't stopped picking at them all morning despite Azriel's genteel scolding, "He's in there?"
Humming, Rhys moved to your other side and placed a stoic hand on the small of your back, "He is. Would you like to see him?"
Part of you was terrified. What if he didn't recognise you? What if he didn't like what you had become?
The pit in your stomach swirled with tentative excitement but you nodded, a bit too eagerly, a hand resting on your stomach, "Please."
Rhys glanced to Azriel whose gaze hadn't moved from you, ready to whisk you away if you even muttered the desire, and when you looked to the Shadowsinger, with eyes wide and pleading, he moved forward first, concealing your figure behind his wings as he reached for the handle and pushed the door open.
Silence cut through the laughter, tension lingered in the air, and you knew that Azriel was staring Lucien down, and you knew from the sound of rustling leather that the former male had rose to his feet.
Azriel entered, his wings still stretched, wings that would stay that way until you were ready. Rhys squeezed your hand in his and rounded the curve of the wings of his brother, and then you appeared, gently grazing Azriel's hand that he had clasped behind his back; he craned his head over his shoulder and you nodded, and then he lowered them.
Lucien was exactly as you remembered him.
Tall and stoic, russet eyes and the scar that made you alike in more ways than one, the golden freckled skin and the long red hair that was braided over his shoulders. He looked older in a way, which was to be expected, his eyes were heavier, and you couldn't help but feel responsible for some of that.
A smile, a teasing but loving smile tugged on his lips, and you could have sworn you saw his eyes glisten, saw that glisten pool on his bottom lids, "Hello, you."
Voice like honey, smooth and sweet, and you couldn't stop the sob from escaping your lips as he crossed the room and bundled you into his arms. Crackling flames and cinnamon. It ached to smell him, to hold him as his fingers ran through your hair, "You haven't changed at all."
"Let me see you," he cradled your face in his hands, his eyes wandered your face, and a single tear fell down his cheek that you swept up with your thumb, "Look at you," he smiled and swallowed hard, "I'm so proud of you."
Emotion clawed at your face and you couldn't help but cry, it was relief and sadness, the worst part of leaving Spring was leaving him behind to tend to the wolf. Not a day had gone by where you hadn't thought of him.
The last time Lucien had seen you he wasn't sure if you'd make it. You were so frail, the fight within you had vanished, he hadn't seen you smile in months, you were broken and felt no desire to put yourself back together.
"Thank you," you strained, your throat bubbling with sobs, "I would have died there if it wasn't for you. I don't know how to begin thanking you."
Lucien shushed you, "You already have. Look at how far you've come y/n. It was all worth it, like we said, remember?"
How couldn't you remember?
"The wound is the place where the light enters you," you spoke the words in a whisper and Lucien watched your lips form the words he had spoken to you after one rather terrible night, on the night where you had been so close to breaking, so close to ending it all.
Lucien was the one who made you fight, he was the one who gave you hope and muttered words of worth into your ear. Grinning like a feline cat, Lucien finished the sentence for you, he spoke to you the words you used to utter in reply to him, "Light it up, y/n."
The words held a different meaning now, you weren't a broken girl anymore, you weren't the daughter of some Spring Lord or some fiancé to the High Lord himself. The words meant something else entirely, you had shone, you had shone in every place you had went after Spring, you had lit up the world, and you had done that because you had found the strength in your darkest of days to sprout from the earth and grow.
You knew that the room was watching you, but you didn't dare to let the embarrassment worm its way inside of you as you became aware of Elain and Feyre, and of Azriel and Rhys around you.
"Light it up, Lucien."
In that moment, you blissfully forgot about that foreboding message laid bare for you outside of your front door, you pushed it aside to feel the blanket of false safety wrap itself around you. The day turned to night, and you found yourself unmoving from the space between Lucien and Azriel, Nyx had crawled into your lap the moment he had seen you and kicked up a fuss in Nesta's arms.
How foolish of you to believe that you were allowed to be happy. How foolish of you to believe that the blood red shadow rooted deep into the earth of your home was nothing but a paranoid figment of your imagination.
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Author's Note
Sorry again! I hope this was worth the wait x
Taglist
@fxckmiup @sh4nn @acourtofbatboydreams @lilah-asteria @iloveboba777 @lisanna2000 @brieflyclassymortal @thecraziestcrayon @mybestfriendmademe @acourtofmoonlightandstars @5onedirection5
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bigfatbimbo · 9 hours
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How about Velvette with a journalist reader who's there to interview her and struggles to stay professional in the face of her relentless flirting over the course of the interview. Reader may or may not leave with an "autograph" 😉
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a/n — oh my god guys, I’M A JOURNALIST!!! Wow, what are the odds! Anyways, marry me?
warnings — Velvette being very pushy, very suggestive, reader is so done, lowkey borderline harassment but… sorry guys she would, NOT PROOFREAD!!!
summary — Journalist reader tries to interview the youngest and newest member of the Vees, however she seems to be interested in something else.
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The goal was to get people talking. Questions should have the ability to cover a wide variety of subjects, snowballing into the next topic with ease, you knew that. 
However, the questions cartwheeled rather than snowballed. “Being a new comer in hell, making an alliance with two of hells most powerful overlords must have been difficult. How’d you do it?” 
“I’m a big girl, babes, I can do a lot of things.”
Okay, so the way she licked her lips when she said that was a little provocative, but you decided to include the statement alone rather than the details. After all, the ‘sass’ that could be interpreted could keep things entertaining. 
And she was, to be fair. She gave off enough personality with each quote that she would practically pop right off the page. Her mannerisms showed when she spoke, you could use that. 
After all, god knows this was going to be better than that Zestial interview. That guy was as cryptic as he was unenthusiastic to those who pry. Jesus, Velvette gave you much more to work with.
However, what started off as a good interview was getting harder and harder to make do with. You figured you could use one of her flirtatious comments, break the fourth wall a bit, but dear god, would she ever answer the question?
“—Of course, I’m not assuming anything. You just look like you know your way around a pussy.”
“Miss Velvette—“
“But shit, aren’t I flattering you? Maybe you can prove it too me but until then—“
“Miss Velvette,” You hiss, brows furrowing together in pure irritation, “The question was about your history in fashion.”
“I’d love to know your history in dating,” She smiled back. 
She was pretty, that was undeniable. And honestly infuriatingly cute, but your job was important. 
“Tell you what, maybe if you answer all my questions accordingly, i’ll give you my number,” you offer, “How’s that sound?”
And she did. You were back where you started, interesting replies and explanations, lots of good material for an article. 
So at the end, you pause your recording, pack up your laptop, and do as you promised. 
Putting your contact in her phone, you shake her hand, “It was a pleasure, miss Velvette. I hope we work together soon.”
“Oh, I know we will,” Her smile was smile and knowing, “One more thing.”
With that, she leans up planting a kiss on, not your cheek like you expected, but the upper part of your neck, making you suck in a breath.
“You know, I never fucking liked journalists,” She spoke as her lips left your skin, and began to walk away, “Thought you all were a bunch of noisy assholes.”
You didn’t say anything, your hand just slowly came up to your neck where her lipstick was presumable staining. A smile drew at your lips.
“Except, I do like you darling,” She stopped in the doorway, “Kisses!”
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acapelladitty · 3 days
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Trouble Like A Mugshot (1.5k)
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Pairing: Lucy Maclean/Cooper Howard
Summary: After a long day of travelling the wastelands, Lucy is feeling horny and asks Cooper if he wants to have sex with her. A question which is much more complicated than she could have possibly known.
(A/N: I might turn this into a short series of moments showcasing the pairs developing relationship from this to hard nsfw if that's something folks would like to see.)
Fic Masterlist
Link to AO3
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Lucy Maclean was no stranger to the difficult to ignore feelings which were pressing at her body. Fingers slightly trembling, breath coming in shorter bursts than she would admit to, eyes unable to pull themselves fully away from the lounging ghoul who reclined in his nearby bunk with a relaxed stance; cowboy hat tipped across his face as he feigned sleep.
Lucy Maclean knew herself enough to understand that her restlessness wasn't the radition sickness which had recently started to touch at her peripherals again. Nor was it the fact that it had been weeks since she'd had any time to herself that wasn't shadowed by either her ghoulish companion or some other entity.
Lucy Maclean was horny and she was never one to deny herself a simple, sneaky little indulgence when the mood took her.
"Hey, Cooper." She called, fingers rolling across her bare forearms as she sat with her back to the wall, legs crossed in a neat pile. "You awake and listening to me?"
"Hard not to with those foghorn vocals." A grumpy response, muffled by the hat rang back at her. "What are you yapping your flap about?
"Do you want to have sex?"
In their time together, Lucy had never witnessed Cooper doing anything that her vault lessons had taught her were sexual acts. He didn't touch himself around her, didn't disappear for some self-relief as the boys did, didn't make any kind of pass at her like some of the others had done before her husband had been selected. As far as she knew, maybe the ghoul didn't even feel the same things she did, and that realisation made her roll back on her question almost as quickly as she had asked it.
"I mean, if you can have sex that is. I don't know if your," Lucy paused, unsure how to describe her partners physical state without causing offence, "condition, makes it possible. I don't even know if you have the right parts for it but there's other ways of experiencing pleasure. We could use our mou-"
Cutting herself off as her babbling reach a new octave, Lucy watched as Cooper's body - his frame stock still since she had asked her initial question - finally stirred into action. A reddened hand slowly rose from its position by his hip until it reached the cowboy hat, plucking the leather from his face as he turned to look at his bunkmate and travelling companion with an indescribable expression; various emotions fluttering through his typically stoic face.
"I know your experiences with ghouls are limited, princess." Cooper spoke patiently, voice low as he fired the hated nickname at her, her vocal dislike of the new monkier making it a very quick favourite of his. "But the whole package is still intact so let's get that established before you go telling people falsehoods about my good person."
"Okay. Noted." Lucy held her hands up apologetically and her knees touched as she lounged against the concrete wall which was supporting her. "But you didn't answer me. Do you want to? Have sex, I mean? Last time i did was with my assigned husband and it was good enough, great even, but then he tried to kill me and it was this whole thing."
Mentally filing that information away for future use and subtle further investigation, Cooper lay back fully against his own cot and tilted his head closer in her direction, thankful for the dimness of their shared room as it shielded most of his features.
"As much as I'd love to bury my bone in a new patch of land, I don't think that's necessarily the best choice in terms of this little partnership we've stitched together."
Indicating his sewn finger, he wagged it at her dismissively as a discomforting sensation flooded his stomach, mild arousal at the thought of some tail mixing with something dangerous that set his teeth on edge.
"Why not? It's only sex."
Suddenly feeling older than he had any right to, Cooper fell silent as he mused on her question for a moment.
Lucy Maclean.
Eyes as big as a doe, that girl was built soft but he was lucky enough to see people for what they truly were and the steel which lurked beneath the painful optimism and naivety that shone free of her would make her a dangerous player if she ever truly entered the game. He felt the burden of his own cruelty at times, cornering her into making decisions that would cause her little vaultie friends to vomit if they knew the violence she enacted, but with every difficult choice came a fresh coating to that steel which would see her survive and thrive in the wastelands.
It's only sex.
In his life, Cooper Howard had enjoyed less sexual partners than many would believe. A sticky fumbling in the upper level of an old barn had been his first, the other party a sweet girl from a nearby ranch who was two years older and knew what she wanted from him. Pretty soon after that came Barb and as soon as he laid eyes on her he never saw anything past her.
War was terrible for the other men and many lost themselves in drink and the women who haunted the barracks and backlines looking for poor souls to feed on. But not him. Never him.
Not when he had to come home to Barb.
Even when married and at the height of his fame, when aspiring young things would throw themselves at him, their perfumes overpowered by the stink of wine and cigarettes, he had rebuffed them politely. He was loyal and he enjoyed the fruits of that loyalty as he held his wife in his arms and basked in the sweet sounds that she would make as they fucked. Hell, she had even given him a daughter and he loved her every day for it.
War never changes.
But he did.
And fuck him if his new appearance and designation as a Ghoul didn't screw him out of any chance of some stress relief as he wandered the wastelands. Might as well have been a fucking leper for all the tail which was now afforded to him and his leathery visage.
Not for Lucy Maclean though.
She, it seemed, didn't care about any of that.
"Did I say something wrong? The leaders explained all acts of intercourse to us so I know what I'm doing and I consent fully."
Lucy's voice, heated with an almost defensive lilt, broke into his musings and Cooper blinked at her as the hole that made up his nose flared while he inhaled deeply.
"I don't doubt that, darling. I've seen how you handle a pistol." Reverting to his typical sarcasm as he looked, truly looked, at her, Cooper sighed at the earnestness which oozed from her features. "But I'm gonna have to decline. Politely."
"Is it because of me? Did i do somethig wrong? I mean, my husband didn't seem to mind but then he was planning on killing me anyway so y'know?" Making a wild gesture with her fingers as she spoke, the casualness of her speech wasn't enough to mask the genuine insecurity which threaded through the questions.
"You're fine. Attractive little thing, even. I think any man would jump at the chance to have you wrapped around them like an old holster."
He wasn't lying- and he wasn't blind. She was a good looking young woman, her innocence flickering like the dull embers of a welcoming fire in the darkness of the wastelands. She was enthusiastic, eager, and damn pretty with those big eyes and curved figure which hid beneath the bulky clothes which she used for protection. More than once he'd caught himself glancing at her as she bent to snatch up things from the floor and the few times he did allow himself to fall into something like sleep featured breathy moans and the feeling of long, brunette strands brushing through his ungloved hands. Mouthy too so he knew she would be a vocal one - probably yowling like a hellcat.
It would be so easy to have her.
A simple yes and she would no doubt leap into action, shedding those clothes as quickly as did her weapons when trying to find peaceful solutions to violent problems. He would treat her right, everh inch the gentleman cowboy and no doubt much better than that shady husband she'd unwittingly fucked. He'd show her things with his fingers and mouth that would have her screaming loud enough to wake up all the devils in hell. Against the cot, against the wall and against whatever furniture she wanted, he could show her how a real man treats a woman as they both burned off some stress.
Feeling a very definite stirring in his groin, Cooper was quick to banish the dangerous thoughts.
"But a bad man like me shouldn't be allowed near a pretty little thing yourself. You're ready for a lot, Lucy Maclean, but you ain't ready for that."
Something almost like understanding passed through her gaze and Lucy nodded, instead exhaling deeply as she tapped the back of her head against the wall behind her.
"In that case, would you mind leaving for an hour so that I can masturbate, please?"
Cursing himself for the little shred of morality which plucked at his heart and refused to allow him to ruin this unknowing tease of a woman, Cooper dutifully rose to his feet and marched to the nearby door.
"You get half an hour." He grunted, barely tilting his head towards her as he stormed out into the nighttime air - determined to get far enough away that there was no chance that he would hear her and break his determined stance.
Besides, he might not be fucking her but as his cock pressed against his slacks, he wasn't masochistic enough to deny himself a similar pleasure and the distance would also give him some much needed alone time.
Goddamn Lucy Maclean.
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cannellee · 3 days
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Hi. This is about the alpha South x omega x alpha Mikey post for clarity.
Imagine how furious alpha Mikey would be if he found out that alpha South already got omega (name) pregnant.
I think he would go nuts lmao
TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆
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୨୧ alpha! south x omega! reader x yandere!alpha! mikey (read this for more context)
— mikey finds out you're pregnant with south's kid
cw : delusional mikey, violence, slight breeding kink, baby trapping
a/n : btw I don't like yanderes who are violent towards their s/o, so mikey acts sweetly towards reader even though that might not be a representative reaction!! I hope you'll still enjoy!
my masterlist: ☆
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it would definitely not end well for any of you.
while dating south, you were in such a vulnerable state of mind that you got carried away. he showered you with the affection you came to miss and crave when you were with mikey and you honestly didn't give too much thought about what you were doing with south at night...
it wasn't surprising for you to end up the way you did, little bump on your stomach, which you always caressed and touched after you learned the news.
south was fine with having his omega pregnant, only thing which prevented him from being fully happy was his worry for your safety.
now imagine you left mikey's side for more than two months, so that your belly could show a little. you're growing more and more stressed because of south's behaviour, it's suspicious and weird and with your hormones being all over the place, you're feeling even more distressed.
when you follow him and are met with the most unexpected sight, your breathing quickens and your scent couldn't be more sour. you were sensitive before, but now that you were pregnant that's another story.
when you threw yourself on south, all mikey could feel was pure anger and grabbed your arms roughly to pry you off of him.
yes you were fragile, mikey knew that. but when you fell on your side after he simply pushed you away, he flinched at the pained whine you involuntarily let out.
he looked at you, confused and worried. albeit his initial rage, he managed to decipher your scent between all the strong pheromones of all the alphas out there. it was sweet, sugary and very soft. mikey would've recognisable it with no efforts.
but something wasn't right, something was different. you watched as he breathed through his nose, frown deepening at the foreign aroma around you. your strawberry pheromones were all over the place and decoupled, and among it, a nice new smell of pink sugar grazed his nostrils.
it smelled divinely good, but most importantly, it stirred up mikey's instincts in an abnormal way. he felt on edge, protective thoughts circling in his mind. it's like you wanted everyone to be aware of how fragile you were, to have them know you were powerless and in need of reassurance.
and when mikey looked you up and down, that's when he noticed your slightly round belly, a protective hand over it.
wide eyes, mikey took a while before actually understanding what exactly he was seeing, completely shocked. he questioned you with his eyes, hoping you would simply shake your head 'no' and grace him with the answer he wanted to hear. but you didn't and he couldn't feel more enraged.
he furiously looked at south and wasted no time in showering him with punches. all his yelling hurt your poor ears as your hands did nothing at trying to cover the noise.
mikey was unstoppable as he screamed profanities at south, promising him to never let him go unless he was perfectly sure he would never touch you again.
not only did you run away from him and gave yourself to another alpha, but that bastard even had the audacity to get you fucking pregnant. the marks mikey had left on your body months ago were deep enough to surely be still present ; it was a clear indicator that you were somebody else's. anyone would have backed off and refuse to have sex with you. but this asshole just had to ignore all those claims and deliberately court his omega.
mikey was simply blinded with rage as he hit him relentlessly, aiming for south's weak spots, wrecking his limp body as much as he could.
you couldn't muster the courage to move and you had no choice but to witness mikey's terrifying actions. you were still on the floor, silently sobbing because of the more than monstrous scene in front of you.
fortunately, your current state had made your scent more easily detectable so that you could communicate your desires and troubles better with your alpha during such a vulnerable time.
it flew right to mikey's nose, instincts to take care of his omega took over him and he found the control in himself to actually stop his butchery.
you saw mikey whip his head towards you, instantly letting go of south's bruised body. he slowly came up to you, disapproval written all over his face and urge to take you away from here eating him up alive.
he couldn't get his eyes off of your belly when he helped you sit down properly. he didn't know how to feel about this. be mad at you ? get into an argument with you to convey just how fucking furious he was ?
truthfully, you weren't to blame here, mikey thought. you were just a poor omega seeking comfort, south was the one who took advantage of you. he exploited your need for a strong presence next to you when mikey couldn't give you that.
you could've said anything to deny his words, mikey was clearly not admitting that it was a choice you made consciously. his lovely omega would have never betrayed him this much.
amidst the chaos, he couldn't think properly and instead chose to end his fight with south. he had to make sure you were safely taken away from south's greedy hands, in mikey's home where it was definitely the safest for you to stay considering your condition.
you should be cocooned by your alpha inside a warm nest, safe and sound and surrounded by reassuring items. but instead you're out there in the wild, all alone and unsupervised and trying to stop a fight right in the middle of a place crowed with thousands of alphas.
mikey was fuming, absolutely devastated by how poorly you were taken care of and the rage he felt was incomparable to anything he had ever felt.
he knew he would have done a better job at protecting you and while he had that tiny hope the baby inside you was his, at this time it really didn't matter in his eyes.
all he could see was your shaking form, forehead sweating from how much pressure you were under. your alpha was supposed to provide you anything, shelter you and protect you, especially during such a precious moment of pure vulnerability.
but here you were. you couldn't count on anybody and mikey's heart shattered upon seeing your tear-stained face and defenceless arms desperately trying to defend your poor excuse of an alpha.
he carefully carried you away from this place, placing a jacket over you to prevent you from getting sick.
you had no words to say in this situation, you simply had to follow what mikey wanted and considered to be the right thing.
he placed you gently on the soft bed, showering you with his clothes to remove all foreign smells from you. mikey had to claim you again, make sure you were scented from head to toe. this is what good alphas do to soothe their omegas after all!
and this was his priority at the moment. to put you to sleep, get your mind off of south and all the problems he brought to you.
you were easier to manipulate as the hormones of pregnancy made your omega more receptive to the orders and voice of an alpha. you could try and fight off your instincts, mikey still had the upper hand and wouldn't give up until you obeyed and followed what he considered as the best choice right now. you needed rest and that's what you were gonna get.
and the hectic day soon got the best of you that you finally dozed off, calmly breathing in the familiar scent of mikey's sheets.
your sleeping figure helped mikey release a bit of tension, knowing his omega was right where she belonged and that her future pup was in good hands.
all that remained to be done now was to get your stuff back from south's apartment and take care of south himself. there was no way he was gonna let some stranger be the father of your kid. you belonged to mikey and by extension, the child you bore was also his, he wouldn't have it any other way.
he'll go out his way to find south again and prevent him from claiming your child, probably aiming to kill him in the process. mikey was going to be the only support in your life, the only pillar you'll need. he'll be the only one present during your pregnancy, guaranteeing you to never let you feel hurt or scared ever again.
you won't go out again as well, he saw how today affected you and quickly understood it was all too much for your poor little pregnant omega heart. too sensitive and emotional...
mikey will force you to stay still, waiting at home for him until you finally give birth. his instincts are so strong and overwhelming, he'll enter a blind rage if his omega isn't cocooned in the warmth and safety of her nest, in her alpha's home.
he's actually somehow glad you got pregnant, although he would have preferred to be the biological father. but now he has a great excuse to keep you by his side. he exploits your weaknesses and lack of financial support to insert himself into your life for good. he scares you into thinking you need him to keep you safe, that alphas will rush to hurt you once they learn you're this helpless and trying to raise a kid on your own.
he'll definitely get you pregnant soon after you give birth, wanting a kid of his own blood. he's so deep into a possessive state of mind that he wants nothing more than to see you all cutely waddle around the house because of the seeds he put into you. he wants to claim you in the most primal way. his intentions are mostly triggered by your past with south but also because he feels like baby trapping you is the most efficient way to keep you right next to him.
in the end, mikey's commitment towards you will grow significantly in the future. once south is disposed of, he'll purely focus on you, knowing nothing will ever get in between the two of you ever again.
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Am I the only one who thinks that the thematic and narrative climax of s5 (and low key the whole show) will be almost a direct parallel to the "You said yes" scene from s2?? Like same exact narrative and cinematic setup of Will being controlled by Vecna to the point where he's nearly gone or on the brink of death, and Mike being able to bring him back to reality with words of love???
Like I low key feel like that scene in s2 was supposed to serve as a precursor and foreshadowing to the climax of Byler rather than just standing on its own as an isolated event. We always talk on here about how Mike's monologue to El in s4 was supposed to directly contrast that scene and demonstrate how false and unnatural Milkvan's supposed "love" is, but we never really talk about just how awkward of a placement it is for the true and "authentic" love confession (Byler s2) to precede the clunky and false one (Milkvan s4). Like, imo it kind of leaves things on an awkward note and kind of hanging.
The only way it wouldn't be awkward or unfinished is if there ends up being a followup scene/parallel to the "you said yes" scene, and I think this is what's going to happen. I think Mike's monologue to El comes after the more romantic, authentic confession not only because it's supposed to contrast it but because the show is serving us two different "choices," two different options for Mike, two different scenarios. Not just for the sake of his character arc but in a meta sense as well, kind of like asking the audience, "which choice makes the most sense for Mike given the events up until now and the themes of the show? Can he be his most authentic and happiest self with Will or El?" And the natural followup to posing this dichotomy would be to answer this question for us by showing us in no uncertain terms why Will makes more sense for Mike as a long-term love interest.
The other reason why I believe this to be the case is because of the blocking of the s2 scene and the way it's set up: with Will being unable to move, unable to say anything or regain any control, and with Mike opening up and being vulnerable about his true feelings for Will [here comes the most important part lol] IN FRONT OF the other characters like Jonathan and Joyce (I can't remember if it was the entire rest of the cast in this scene or just those two?? I think it might've been everybody bc weren't they trying to get Will to communicate with them using morse code? I don't remember lmao) but anyways, I don't think it was a coincidence that Mike gave his grand "Do you remember the first day that we met?" speech not only to Will himself but in front of the other characters. Remember as well that Mike also confessed his "love" for El in front of an audience, and I don't think that's a coincidence either. I think it's leading to a final confession from Mike that will also take place in front of an audience and will serve as the "choice" that Mike makes between El and Will as well as the "choice" the Duffers present as being the correct narrative and thematic choice for the show. It's important that Mike's initial two confessions took place in front of an audience and also that his final one will, because this will also serve as Mike's "coming out" moment to the rest of the characters and to the audience. I think that Mike is going to have a second speech to Will that isn't just "I love you I love you I love you" over and over again like it was to El. It will be sweet and unique to Will and Byler's relationship except this time it will be explicitly, undeniably romantic so that no one will be able to even think that what he feels for Will is anything short of genuine, passionate, romantic love.
I wouldn't even be surprised if what Mike says closely parallels what he said to El except basically the opposite, alluding to the fact that it wasn't "love at first sight" for him but a slow, gradually building and gradually cultivating love that blossomed over the course of his entire life. Instead of "I knew then and there that I loved you" like he did to El, he could say something like, "I didn't realize it yet when I met you, and I'm not even sure I know when it happened, but I think I've spent my entire life slowly falling in love with you." And he says it with tears in his eyes and in front of all of the rest of the characters, who will also be crying (especially Joyce lol). And of course Will will just be sobbing even through Vecna's control over him, but it will be Mike's love that ultimately frees him from Vecna's hold over him. This would make sense, because unlike El, Will's story has never been about independence and breaking himself free, but about him and Mike breaking themselves free through teamwork a la "I think that we should work together. I think it'll be easier if we're a team."
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lowgothree · 12 hours
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𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ━━ ❛ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 ❜
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chapter no. 000!          
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𝗈𝗈𝗈.                 ⠀CONTENT : angst-ish. reader is lowk insecure and paige is lowk not good at reassurance (its for the plot trussst)
𝗈𝗈𝗈. ⠀      WORD COUNT : 637
𝗈𝗈𝗈.   ⠀AUTHORS NOTE : lmk if yall like this or not!
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THERE WAS A TIME WHERE PAIGE KISSING YOU, having you underneath her warm lips, was the best thing that could happen to you. you loved how human it was. how natural it felt for her to be on top of you, her body heat engulfing you. whenever you were together; it was like you entered a little bubble…one where only you and her existed. 
but everything is temporary, (including humanity, apparently) because one november night, she had you pinned against her bed and all you can think about is how much you hate the feeling. you’re alone together now, in the private comfort of her apartment. the blinds were drawn shut but it wouldn’t matter because by now midnight had already rolled in and everyone looking in was most likely sleeping. you had her to yourself, finally –– nothing about the setting was unusual, most of the alone time you and paige had was past 11pm. she only loved you in the dark. 
but it wasn’t enough anymore. 
perhaps you had gotten greedy, finding yourself wanting to hold her hand in less private spaces. you’d been with her for months, six to be exact, and yet it felt pointless. she wouldn’t tell anyone. she said she loved you but she couldn’t tell anyone. and it didn’t help that she was possibly the biggest flirt most likely ever. she pulled away, noticing your lack of usual enthusiasm. 
“is something wrong?” three words that jump started the end of the relationship—if you could even call it that. it was inauspicious at best, nonexistent at worst. that was your greatest fear when it came to the two of you––that there was really nothing there. those three, almost dismissive words, completely shattered you. 
you bite your tongue but it’s futile. when you open your mouth again the words escape before you even realize it, much less stop yourself from saying them. “why did you say that?”
“cause you’re being weird and i wanna know what’s up?” she says in an obvious tone, confused as to why you’d even question her motives for trying to know what’s wrong with her girlfriend. 
“no, not that.” you sigh, realizing your vagueness. “earlier.” 
paige’s confused expression doesn’t lift for even a moment, in fact, it seems to increase. 
“to the girl at the shop. when she asked if you had a girlfriend.” you reply simply, annoyed that the situation clearly meant nothing to her when it meant everything to you. at the moment, at least. “you said you weren’t looking for a relationship.”
“well, that’s not exactly a lie.” she’s mostly joking but it’s clear that you didn’t take it that way. your hand, which was running up and down the length of her spine subconsciously, stops abruptly. her words are spoken lightheartedly but they suffocate you.
“i just mean…i’m kinda with you, y’know? so i’m not actively looking.” she doesn’t know why that’s what she chose to say in that moment and those words would prove to haunt her for long after.
“would it kill you to call me your girlfriend?”
she pauses, tensing like she always does whenever you talk labels. her silence is the worst answer. her silence is indifference. she doesn’t care, of course she doesn’t. why would you even expect her to? it was clear she only wanted a good time from you.
so you decided to make this easy for her. by saying what she never ever wanted you to say to her. you sit up, standing from the bed. “i think it’s best if we don’t keep seeing each other.” she hates how formal you sound. she hates even more how she can’t say anything. she hates how she can’t speak even when you gather your things to leave her. she let you go, too frozen to stop you.
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harmonysanreads · 2 days
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different anon! but what if arlecchino doesn’t like lyney’s s/o for some reason, maybe they have strong morals and despite accepting lyney’s ‘occupation’, she feels like their relationship could compromise her operations or something
[ Previously ]
I waited until we got more information on Arlecchino to answer this and after her story quest, I can say that Lyney just having a romantic interest would complicate things a lot — at least on the surface.
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Arlecchino is hardly someone who adheres to clear-cut principles, every word of her has double meaning and even if she didn't initially speak with such intentions, she can expertly twist words to her advantage. This tendency also shows itself in her actions, as seen by the way she operates the House of the Hearth. She's always scheming, simply put and thus she's the Knave.
For most of the ordeal, Arlecchino doesn't intervene, as she believes that children need their own space, but she's aware of everything that's going on from the start. Problem happens if it appears as though Lyney is neglecting his training and some sort of a scheme arises which suggests that he might be planning to betray the House. I wish they'd told us what exactly the rules of the HOTH are apart from the 'Betrayal is not allowed' since Arlecchino exerts her control through them. But for now, let's go with what we have.
Notice how I emphasized 'appears and suggests'? Arlecchino's story quest has made me respect Lyney's character a lot and from it, I can say for sure that if Lyney genuinely loves you, he'll do anything to protect you. Despite how he presents himself, he's serious about the House and him becoming Arlecchino's successor. In which case, he'd never actually betray the House but since we're talking about Yandere!Lyney, his unstable feelings might temporarily give the impression that he's doubting his designated role. Stretch this leeway some more and we get a new family drama.
This is the scenario where I can see Arlecchino personally intervening ; perhaps she starts by offering some generous 'fatherly' advice to Lyney through a letter or conversation, then maybe she pulls some strings to see what your deal is but the brunt of it will go over Lyney.
Now, Arlecchino's core belief is quite clear for this case ; she'll not interfere with whoever Lyney chooses to do whatever with after he's achieved his seat. But until then, she is in charge and anything that might prove to be a threat to the HOTH must be handled. As such, Lyney will have to pass acid test after acid test to earn her approval and you'll be dragged in them regardless of whether you return Lyney's undying love or not.
Thankfully, Lyney actually does have the spine to stand up for things and as I mentioned earlier : if he truly loves you, he'll fight for you, too. If you ask me though, I'd say to not worry too much overall. The deal with Arlecchino is that she likes to keep people questioning, which creates this fear surrounding her image, one that she leans into as well. But the center of the dilemma is always simpler than what you might be led to believe.
Even if she's against it, there's always a chance to win, you'll just have to fight tooth and nail for it.
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aikatoru · 21 hours
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Nanami has never been very good with his words, he never takes himself as a smooth talker.
Hell it took him a year just to work up the courage to finally talk to you and even then it was at the coffeehouse and all he said was a lame, “Excuse me but could you pass the sugar?”
He doesn’t know how but that encounter led to a conversation and then a date and eventually a relationship, and that’s where you guys are now.
Nanami was happy and pretty pleased with himself, he considered himself lucky to be able to get the girl of his dreams. He’s seen you date richer and more popular guys before him, so it was nice to know that you’d pick him over them.
But perhaps he was speaking too soon cause he caught you talking to one of your exes outside of the shop he was in, and you seemed way too friendly with the other guy for his liking. He quickly paid for his items and rushed out to find you alone and your ex leaving.
“Was that your ex?” He asked, looking at you.
“Oh yeah, he was in the area and came by to say hi,” you explained way too calmly.
He nodded curtly, “I see.”
And somehow you noticed his irritation, “Are you okay? You seem a little tense.”
He sighs and finally admits, “I don’t like seeing you with any of your exes.”
You giggled, “Aww are you jealous Nanami?”
“Yes.” He answered simply, matter of factly.
You blinked once, twice, a little taken aback by his quick response.
“Oh…ok then…I won’t talk to him again then.”
He breathes a sigh of relief and thanked you.
“But just want to let you know that it was nice talking to a guy who sees me for once…” you spoke.
He raised an eyebrow, “you think I don’t see you?”
Your lips were pursed into a pout as you shrugged, “You’re always at work most days and always on your phone when you get home…it wouldn’t hurt for you to say you love me every now and then.”
He couldn’t believe his ears, had he really been so cruel as to make you question his loyalty, his devotion to you?
He breaks into a smile when he finally realizes what you want and so he takes you into his arms before speaking.
“For as long as I can remember, I have always craved to be the one to make you smile, wipe the tears from your face from when you’re sad, tug the loose strands of your hair behind your ear…for as long as I’ve seen you, I have always wondered what it was like to hold your hand, to hold you close and to kiss those gorgeous lips of yours…so rest assured that you my dear are truly and irrefutably loved by me.”
He confesses so seriously that you can’t help but start smiling and giggling.
“Gosh Nanami you’re so dramatic.”
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