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jesterjaxx · 2 days

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Halloween AU lore dump!!!

❗️WARNING❗️

so much infodumping world buidling and headcannons

DJ- Robot

Originally built to be a robo cop type deal. But when given free will refused to hurt anyone and got scrapped

Was found and repurposed by "Momma" to be a son

Really fuckin loves animals. Nature in general but mostly animals.

They get spooked by him a lot though

Hes kinda sad about this but gets it.

Momma is a scraper/engineer and outfitted him with everything a "good human boy" would need, like touch receptors and an ability to taste

Nothing to be done about majorly changing how he looks tho

The ability to feel is a bit too much sometimes

Sometimes all he can feel is cold

Goes to Duncan to see if he can do something about helping communicate to animals that he is a friend. Ala magic.

Machinery and Magic don't mix well typically, you gotta be crazy specific, which isn't really Duncan's styel

Duncan likes DJ tho, and proceeds to steal some of Harolds spellbooks

Side plot of them being wayyyy to hard for him to read, in both way too high level and shitty handwritten chickenscratch that fucks with his dyslexia, so he has to ask Harold for help

Maybe they learn to better understand eachother idk

Maybe they kill eachother

Harold and Duncan team up 6 dead 9 injured every single person is fucking baffled

Anyways DJ is like iron giant up in this bitch

His Momma is kinda worried that one day he'll learn enough mechanics to fix himself up and wont need her anymore

Tyler - Harpy

Ok the chicken fear makes sense now

He gets the uncanny valley feeling looking at chickens

I would too

He would fly into a window

Can he fly?

Hes like a turkey

Or a seagull

Wait im an idiot hes a chicken

Duh

Eva - Gargoyle

Her carver loved buff women thank god almighty for that

Punches like a brick wall

Living Stone

lion paws for feet

Did you guys know sound resonates the best through solids??

Her music listening experience is legit i just know it

Noah - The Blob/ slime monster

Oh god that poor guy

Hes gonna get slime all over his books

Harold - Witch

He's the type of witch to have seperate waters for different kinds of spells

A pretty dorky Witch, even by witch standards

Wears proper witch PPE (robes and hat)

Has his sheldon Big Bang Theory style shirts on underneath tho

Uses incantations and written spells in magical languages mainly

Uses the starlight, paper, ink, historical artifacts and an assortment of magical ingredients as fuels

Has a large collection of quality spellbooks for references

Not those shitty amazon spellbooks that are just a list of pre written spells, these ones were written by some old hag 80 years ago and through flowery rambleing language tell you how write spells yourself. They go into spell syntax.

Harolds books for writing incantations and spells are spiral notebooks

If he uses smbols will typically craft a custom sygil for it

Uses alot of number magic and latin

Uses his confidence in his skills with writing spells to harness magic

Is better at doing spells for other people, when doing spells for himself he tends to overcomplicate things

Actually went to magic camps and magic summer schools

"I was trained for this!" and it's Mostly true

Can make the most specific fucking spell work for him

I cannot stress he is good at this type of casting.

Duncan's way of doing magic pisses him off. Both are convinced their way is better

Harold to Duncan ->"What the fuck do you mean you increased your strength with a posca marker, bare knuckles and a dream. How are you not dead yet >:[ "

He has a lot of respect for magic itself, Duncan's almost disrespectful way of using magic makes him mad.

Whats worse is that it works.

How Harold casts a spell

Writes down a goal -> outlines different methods to achieve it (incantations, scrolls, potions) -> writes out the spelleork with alot of detail accounting for almost every outcome -> it takes very long -> outwardly or inwardly recites writes spell to activate it -> profit

Alejandro - Siren

(I give up with organization here no more bullet points)

Mermaids and Sirens are almost identical, with few overt physical differences

Sirens will typically have colored iris', 2 finned gills, longer tounges, boned ears and uniformly sharp teeth

Mermaids have colored scalera, 3 smooth gills, finned ears and sharp canines

This isn't a rule, and in modern times there are few families of sirens or mermaids that havent mixed with other monsters at some point

Both species have shape-shifting abilities.

Mermaids have two forms, and can switch between them at will, though the process takes hours and the mermaid will have to stay in either aquatic or land form for a couple weeks before changing again. though this wait time can be speed up with tailsmen, it's can cause health problems.

Siren can shift their features at will, including shifting from aquatic to non aquatic with no wait time, some families of Siren encourage "good breeding" and fostering shifting abilities to the point of shifting bone structure, hair, colors and gender at will. This level of shifting controll is a very desirable trait, and cannot be learned.

Alejandro is one of these few families who try to stay purely Siren

Hes a 100% Siren, but unlike his brothers he lacks any shape-shifting abilities, a flaw that has brought him great shame (this is just a genetic fluke, it's like a birth defect)

but he has both a very powerful ability to enchant his words and natural charisma. Dangerous combo.

Because of the well known knowledge that Sirens can manipulate people with ease, Alejandro semi pretends that he is a Mermaid, using his long hair to obscure his gills

He more just lets people assume hes a Mermaid and does not correct them rather than actually lying

He lies about many things but outright lying about species is a bit much

Siren Speech doesn't work as good if someone's also using magic at the same time or knows what's up about it

It doesn't work that great on Heather, Duncan or Harold point blank, or Lindsay, Beth Trent and Justin if they're shifting or shifted

Good thing hes manipulative on his own!

Beth - Mermaid

Yeah sure why not

I don't know enough about Beth yet i need a moot whose obsessed with her

Ezekiel - Ghost

Lmao hes invisible

Poor dude probably gets looked over all the time

Hes just clothes and a transparent person

Justin - Werewolf

The twilight girls would go crazy over him i know it

Cody - Puppet

Oh poor dude

Itll look cool tho

Hed make knock on wood jokes all the time

Trent - Werecat

The trustin girls would go crazy over this i know it

But real like hes chillin

Would use claws as a pick

Geoff - Frankenstein

A man of the people

Literally

Looses limbs easily

Wakes up after a party like "wheres my leg lmao"

Heather - Zombie

Oh this is good

Shes vegan

Would insult people like "i can tell you have a brain why the hell don't you use it"

Very concerned over phsyical appearance

Uses so so many products

Pretty alive looking for a zombie cuz of it

It's kinda creepy

Her eyes got no eyeshine tho

Like a shark.

Gwen - Skeleton/Ghost

Ok this was an accidental double Gwen got both Skeleton and ghost

Since Ezekiel is already a ghost i'm Gonna lean into the Skeleton bit more but throw a transparent silhouette over all of her for the ghost bit

Ghost vs Zombie rivalry

She'd do all sorts of cool drawings and markings on her bones

Gwen, drawing a bat on her femur with sharpie: tattoo moment

Her eyeliner is also sharpie

Who the fuck cares about skincare when you don't have skin

Lindsay: you shouldn't put permanent marker on your face! It can hurt you 🥺

Gwen, floating bones:

LeShawna - Chimera

YES I LOVE MONSTER COMBOS

LIKE COMBINATIONS OF MULTIPLE ANIMALS

lets do classic chimera but with one head

Lean into the Lioness bit cuz Leshawna is a boss bitch and Lionesses are so fucking cool

I might give her a scorpion tail

Duncan - Witch

Another double whoops lol

He's a "fuck it we ball" typa witch

lmao he and Harold are beefing like crazy i know it Harold has 12 spellbooks hes memorized with their specific ways of casting and Duncan is writing runes on his knuckles with sharpie

Duncan to Harold ->"Why are you using 2 pages of latin for a fire spell??"

"Because i need only this bit of wood to light on fire a little bit and nothing else and if i dont i could loose control of it or blow it up or it might not even start"

*stares in did finger guns at a branch and cremated it for fun*

Harold to Duncan ->"Why are you writing runes on your nailpolish??"

"i'm tired of being the only scary bitch here without claws"

*stares in once accidentally rubbed spell notes off of his spellbook and onto his face while passed out on his desk and gave himself acid burns for 3 weeks"

They go crazy they go stupid

Hes self taught

The Duncan and Harold bullying arc turned Street smart vs actually Smart but make it witches

Mostly just picking shit up as he goes

"Stole" (it was free) a pamphlet on different types of magical symbols and has managed to make the symbols illustrated in it work for almost every spell he wants

Fueled by raw unrelenting audacity

Real lore tho- magic is created with belief and harnessed with confidence, you can either go the intellectual route and control every variable and have trust in your control of those variables to harness the magic like Harold, or like Duncan, have enough semi-unearned confidence in yourself to harness magic with little need for more than a few variables.

Basically as a general rule, it has as much meaning as you truthfully believe it does

Doesn't explain what hes casting or how hes doing it

"Where'd you learn how to do that?"

"what are you a cop?"

(learned from illustrations, word of mouth, and other witches on the street)

Has a couple stick n poke magical symbols, several other scribbled on symbols that are temporary

Biggest one is a glyph for fire on his hand, he doens most of his spells using it

Has burns around his glyph tattoos from spells backfiring cuz he got distracted

Uses sharpies, spraypaint, eyeliner and the insides of firecrackers for drawing symbols

If he needs a magical material he'll typically substitute whatever he has on him, belief goes a long way.

"Pure Holy Silver?... this earring looks silver enough

This doesn't work for potions cuz potions are only a little left to normal chemistry.

Has alot of talisman he wears

Carries extra ingredients on him ala accessories cuz fuck it it looks cool

Mains his spells with symbols, uses potions or material fuels if he cant make a good connection between what he wants and one of 10 symbols he remembers at any given time

Uses moonlight, bones, rocks, and personal artifacts as fuels

How duncan casts a spell

Draws glyph -> creates a mental connection between what the glyph means and what he wants to do (this is mostly subconscious with Duncan he doenst know what hes doing he just knows he does it well)-> activates glyph physically (ie hitting, tapping, lighting, punching, tracing with finger)

Example: draws fire glyph on Chris's camper -> wants to set it on fire but not the surrounding grass and trees -> smacks the side of the camper that has the glyph on it -> profit

Duncan, to Harold: You make magic math, i make magic my bitch

Bridgette - Alien

Aww she could be so cute

Surfer girl from planet nine

Owen - Plant Monster

This could visually look really cool

Big carnivorous plant

Izzy - Angel

kaleidoscope = biblically accurate form, cuz she "Looks like a kaleidoscope! Duh!"

Lindsay - Selkie

If you steal her coat ill fucking kill you

Sadie - Vampire

Ough thats cute

I'm Gonna make her pigtails batwings

Katie - Zombie

undead girlfriends

Sadie thinks Katie is so pretty it doesn't matter her eye just fell out

Courtney - Demon

Oh this bitch looooves contracts

Is also upset about Duncan but she just doesn't like witches in general

Whats the point of making deals with humans for magical powers of some humans give themselves magical powers

Demon of what?? Pride maybe?? Or envy??

Shes a sweetheart tho

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prettieinpink · 7 months

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PROCESSING YOUR EMOTIONS WITHOUT SUPPRESSING THEM - TECHNIQUES

this post is all about how to process emotions that we are uncomfortable with, safely and positively. Today, I’d like it if you’d try to implement at least one technique today!

REMINDERS

Remember that when you feel an emotion, it is your body communicating itself to you. Listen to your emotion, and understand.

All emotions are temporary, and will pass. But some can leave a more long term effect on us.

Having the skill of sitting through uncomfortable emotions calmly, and not let it impact our lives greatly will serve you well.

TECHNIQUES

STOP TECHNIQUE

S- Stop what you’re doing, pause all activities and shut off your brain.

T- Take a few deep breathes, continue until your focus is only on breathing deeply.

O- Observe your thoughts, your body language, any physical sensations and acknowledge them within you.

P- Proceed with any activity that may help you process this emotion. Meditation, journaling, stretching, talking to someone, etc.

ALL TECHNIQUE

A- Acknowledge, accept and alllow what you feel. Identify what emotion you feel, if you can’t, try to associate it with something. Sit in this feeling for awhile and truly accept it within you.

L- Link it to a circumstance or situation that may explain why you’re feeling this way. E.g ‘I feel so irritated lately, it may be because I’ve been eating sugary foods more’

L- Learn what this emotion may be telling you. There’s not much detail on this because only you know what your body needs/wants.

SELF EXPRESSION

Draw, write, compose music on what this feeling looks like, sounds like, maybe even their taste. This really helps go deep in your emotions, analyse it and then hopefully process it.

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empress-simps · 12 days

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Foolish Heart

Pairing: James Potter x Fem! Reader CW: James being oblivious to reader’s feelings, Sirius teasing, and as always- language. (1.7k words) Summary: You’ve had the biggest crush on James ever since you can remember, so imagine how hard it is to see your best friend since diapers pine over Lily Evans. The other Marauders decided to make James realize who he truly likes all along.

Note: I was listening to Hozier’s (my love) “Almost (Sweet Music)” When I suddenly thought of this idea randomly, soooooo yeah, enjoy! My updates might be slower now since I have school, but my requests/asks are still open if anyone wants to talk to me! I'd still be active on Tumblr : )

Be still, my foolish heart. Don’t ruin this on me.

It was your mantra, every time you saw James. Everything he did was perfect in your eyes; the way he hummed, eyes twinkling as he thought of a plan on how to execute their pranks, down to the way he laughed. It was heavenly, dancing around the air, lingering- as if a beautiful melody waiting to be heard by you.

And yet, you were a silent audience, watching from a far distance as he basks in the glow of Lily Evans.

Lily. The name itself was a symphony, a haunting refrain that echoed in the back of your mind. She was everything you weren’t, couldn’t be—confident, radiant, and effortlessly captivating. Her hair, a cascade of fiery red, framed her face like a halo. And James? Well, he was her devoted troubadour, strumming his heartstrings to the rhythm of her laughter.

He was hypnotized by Lily’s glow; and you were fixed on his warmth. His laughter was like sunlight filtering through leaves, warming the coldest corners of your aching and bitter heart. You wondered if he knew the ache of unrequited love—the way it makes you feel like you’re drowning in heartache, making you gasp for air.

You’d known James since you were in nappies, a strong bond forming from cheeky smiles, little adventures, empty promises, bruised knees, and grass-stained bottoms. Childhood friends; both of you are inseparable. But, unknowingly to the bespectacled boy, you slowly saw him in a different light, making you crave more about what your current relationship with him is.

James was the sun, and you were the moon—forever caught in his orbit, but never close enough to touch.

You watched as he stumbled over his words, trying to impress Lily with Quidditch tales and his pranks. And you? You were the silent observer, scribbling poems in the margins of your potions textbook.

As you settled in your usual seat next to James in the great hall, Sirius grinned, a mischievous glint evident in his eyes. “Sit beside me, pretty girl!” He pulled you next to him, slinging an arm around your shoulder as he grabbed an apple and handed it to you. “Good morning to you too, Paddie.” You rolled your eyes playfully, obliging and sitting next to the long-haired boy and grabbing your favorite fruit from his grasp.

Remus, the ever observant one out of the group knowingly looks at Sirius as if to say, ‘I know what you’re doing’. Peter only mumbled a ‘good morning’ before going back to shoving his breakfast in his mouth, blissfully unaware of the brewing tension.

James frowned; he didn’t like the change. Not. One. Bit.

This was new- you not sitting beside him? Can someone pinch him right now since the sod thinks he might be dreaming.

James kept his mouth shut, although he couldn’t help but glance every now and then at you and Sirius chatting across the table, sporting a frown as he stabbed the eggs with a rather excessive force before showing the food on his mouth. Of course, his actions didn’t go unnoticed in the eyes of Sirius Black.

“Something wrong, Prongs?” he asked, not even bothering to hide the grin on his face as he leaned in. Never once did James think he would like to see Sirius’ smirk wiped off his face.

“Y/n sits beside me.” His jaw clenched.

You tried your best to act nonchalantly, fighting off the blush forming in your cheeks as you felt the all too familiar butterflies in your stomach.

Ah, the heartache in those words—the unspoken longing. Remus had seen it before, masked behind his bravado. James Potter, the mischief-maker, the Quidditch star, the one who chased after Lily Evans with unwavering determination. But the werewolf knew better. He saw the way he looked at you when he thought no one was watching. The way his laughter softened when you were near. The way he defended you even when you didn’t need defending.

“So? Make Red sit beside you or something.” Sirius raised a brow. You looked at Sirius with a confused look on your face, just what was up with him today?

Red. Lily Evans. The one who James practically confesses his undying love for every week. You know damn well you were not Red, and that you will never be Red.

You were Y/n- the one who held his hand when he was scared of the dark, who followed him on little adventures throughout Potter Manor when you were kids, and the one who exchanged secrets with him with hushed whispers under the moonlit skies.

But being the sod he is, he did. He had hurt you again without even knowing as he invited Lily next to him.

It went on for several weeks, each passing day hurt more than the last. It seemed like he was slowly becoming out of your reach, but Sirius was there, offering you support, and secretly trying to make James realize that he’d been hopelessly in love with you ever since the beginning of time.

The unspoken tension between you grew thicker. Sirius and the others watched, amused and exasperated. Remus, the wise one, shared knowing glances with you. Peter, ever loyal, tried to be mediator between James’s heart and his head.

Then it finally happened, James couldn’t handle it anymore. He cracked.

You were the fresh air he takes in, the anchor that keeps him still, a constant presence in his life. James Potter knew it would hurt if you weren’t by his side, but Merlin- he didn’t know it would hurt this much. He wants you- he needs you.

One stormy night in the Gryffindor Common room was the time he decided to tell you what’s going on in his mind. It was the perfect timing, really. Only him, you and the other Marauders were present in the room, the other students already headed to the dorms, as it was almost curfew.

James sighed, finally standing, and walking towards your direction, his eyes were vulnerable. “Y/n,” he began, voice trembling as he stumbles over his words. “I’ve been an idiot.”

You hummed in agreement, trying to look busy as you reread the last sentence over and over in the page of your book, “That’s not new, Potter.”

“Lily—she’s not the one I want. It’s always been you.”

It felt like the whole world stopped, the fire that was roaring suddenly stilled, your friends sat silently, frozen in shock. All you can hear is your heart thumping loudly in your chest.

James’ gaze bore into yours, his eyes searching for a response. His hand trembled where it reached for yours, holding it tightly, fearing you'd pull away from his touch.

“James, what? If this is some kind of ploy to play with me-“

“Y/n,” he said, his voice raw, “I’ve loved you since we were kids. I was a bloody fool to deny it every time I see you."

“James,” you whispered, your throat tight, “what about Lily?”

He cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as he chuckled lightly "Evans had noticed it even before I did. Said I was a knobhead for not realizing sooner." he said.

James’s gaze softened. “You’re the girl who followed me on little adventures, who defended me during Quidditch matches, who knows my deepest fears and silliest dreams. I was fucking terrified to ruin our friendship just because I saw you more than my best friend.”

Biting your lip, you felt the all-too-familiar tears pricking your eyes. His confession made your insides warm, fuzzy, and light. You never told him how you truly felt- keeping it to yourself as you watched him chase after Lily, being supportive of him even though it kills you inside. You could deal with that; you’d be happy as long as James would be happy. Even if it’s with Lily.

Although, he was here, in front of you. Telling you that he also loves you, that he hadn’t realized it until years after.

“James, you were never just a best friend to me.” You whispered, “I was scared- terrified that you would never see me in the way that I saw you. I didn’t tell you because I would rather love you in the sidelines rather than lose you altogether.”

James’ eyes softened, he leaned closer to you; his forehead touching yours, his breath fanning your lips as he smiled softly. “I wouldn’t let you do that now, you’d be in the center of my life, where you belong.”

He placed his hand gently on your back, pulling you closer to him. “Let’s not waste any more time, yeah? We already did that for most of our years already.” James didn’t wait for you to reply when he leaned down and kissed you, cupping your face gently.

Neither of you heard your friends cheering, the fire crackling, or the rain tapping out your window.

In that moment, it felt as if you and James were the only ones in the world, you were in your own little bubble of happiness. Both of you had foolish hearts, and it had finally found each other after years and years of looking.

#james potter x reader #james potter fluff #james x reader #james potter #james potter x y/n #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders fic #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs

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rhys-writes-some-shit · 3 months

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"Sing to Me?"

Alastor x Reader (QP)

Yawning, you trudged out of the bathroom, drying your hair loosely with a towel. You were warm from your shower and the filling meal you'd had a little while earlier. Alastor was probably the best chef you knew, a fact you were extremely proud of. Even if your preferred form of protein was banned from the hotel premises, Alastor was always able to make do with what he had.

Despite it being late at night, you grabbed your laptop (a very rare, not VoxTech one) to work on some paperwork. You'd promised your boss to get these spreadsheets done, and you weren't one to shirk on your promises. Yawning again, you tuned your old-fashioned radio before settling down with your laptop. The radio had been a gift from Alastor. Many late nights had been spent listening to his broadcasts. They'd always been a comfort, even before you'd signed a contract with him.

Some light jazz filtered through the static, one of your favorite songs. Alastor knew you were listening. Smiling lightly, you started typing away.

The music was occasionally interrupted by a bloodcurdling scream or a sharp whimper. Your smile never left, humming along while Alastor had his fun. Part of you was vaguely aware that the radio show was now being broadcast all throughout Hell, that you didn't even need the radio, but you liked it, so it stayed on.

The spreadsheets were simple enough. With the radio in the background, you were able to focus just enough that the job came naturally. In the back of your mind, you started going over the next day’s schedule.

You'd ended up zoning out while you typed, not even noticing how the radio switched to static and then turned off by itself.

A single knock preceded Alastor's entrance, enough to break you from your thoughts. You were quick to notice the faint blood splatter on the sole of Alastor’s shoes, the only evidence of his previous activities.

“My dear, you know how I abhor those vile machines,” Alastor reprimanded, walking and starting to subconsciously organize your room. A chair was pushed in, a painting adjusted so it was even, the bottom drawer of your dresser lightly closed.

“Yeah, yeah.” You grinned to yourself. “I need it to do my job, Al. Besides, do you have any idea how hard it is to find a piece of electronic equipment that's not created by VoxTech?”

“All the more reason to get rid of it.” Alastor walked over to the window and stared out at it. He was a little lost in thought himself, it would seem.

Typing a line, you said, “I liked your broadcast.”

“I'm glad.”

He was quiet. Something was wrong. Your grin died down, pushing your laptop to the side. Alastor’s smile was still there, but dimmer. Sadder.

“Al? You okay?”

“Nothing to concern yourself with, dearest,” Alastor replied, a slight edge in his voice.

You wanted to push. To get him to talk to you. But you knew it wouldn't be worth it. If anything, he'd just get upset or shut down more.

“You know, sometimes I wonder what would've happened if we'd met while we were alive,” You said nonchalantly. “I mean, obviously that would've been impossible in the first place, considering I wasn't even born when you died, but I just wonder about it.”

“What a ridiculous thing to wonder about!” Alastor laughed a little. “As you said, it would have been impossible. And why think about being alive when we have all of death to enjoy?” His tone lightened a bit. “There is so much entertainment to be had! Life was quite dull, comparably.”

You wondered for a moment, trying to figure out where to lead the conversation. “Where did you live, when you were alive? You already know where I lived when I was alive, it's only fair I know where you lived.”

Alastor’s grin softened a bit, still sad, but with a hint of happiness in there. Nostalgia, if you had to guess. “New Orleans, Louisiana. I lived there with my mother. I had a delightful job as a radio host.”

“You're still a radio host,” you teased playfully. “What was it like, back then?”

“Ah, it was… entertaining.” He didn't say anything more, lost in thought as he leaned on his cane. You were vaguely aware that you were the only person who ever saw him like this. Alastor wore his smile like armor, guarding himself with a nonchalant facade, but very rarely, behind closed doors, the guard would fall, just for a little while.

Just as you were about to open your mouth to ask another question, Alastor spoke, “You seem quite tired, my dear. Maybe it is time we part ways for the evening.”

Pressing your lips together, you knew he was right. You really should be getting to bed, but you were worried about Alastor. You hadn't seen him like this before, so it was impossible to guess what he'd do once he was alone.

“You really should learn to hide your emotions better.” Alastor turned suddenly, chucking to himself. “There is nothing to worry about, darling. I am perfectly fine.”

“Yeah, you say that, but for some reason I don't believe you.” Stifling a yawn, you gave Alastor a look.

“Now, now, don't be like that.” Alastor came and sat on the edge of the bed, using his magic to set the laptop on top of the dresser. “What can I do to convince you to sleep?”

Leaning back, you thought for a moment. When the idea hit you, your face flushed with embarrassment for a moment, but you swallowed the anxiety. He did ask, after all.

“Sing to me?”

Alastor laughed, causing you to glare. “Again with the ridiculous ideas!” When your face fell subconsciously, Alastor hesitated.

When he didn't say anything, you accepted the fact that it was a ridiculous request. Assuming he'd leave the room on his own accord, you used your magic to turn out the lights as you slid under the covers of your bed. You never did get all those spreadsheets done like you'd wanted.

“Parlez-moi d’amour.”

Alastor’s slightly-static-filled voice was quiet. His eyes faintly glowed in the dark and you watched him with wide eyes.

“Redites-moi des choses tendres.”

Smiling softly, you sank into the bed, closing your eyes and allowing Alastor’s comforting voice to wash over you.

“Votre beau discours /

“Mon cœur n'est pas las de l'entendre /

“Pourvu que toujours /

“Vous répétiez ces mots suprêmes /

“Je vous aime.”

((The song))

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #plz don't come after me for the french #I just copy/pasted off google T-T #rhys-writes #alastor x reader queerplatonic

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celestialtarot11 · 3 months

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How to manifest based on your moon sign 🤍🍵

Hi friends! Today we’ll be looking at how to manifest based on your moon sign ⭐️✨ please share your feedback and support this blog. Thank you! Regardless of your moon sign and astrology in itself, all these methods can work greatly for anyone.

Moon in air signs ☁️ You manifest when you allow yourself to see timelines of your future. Allow yourself to think widely beyond your current circumstances. How good can it get? What is there to experience that you haven’t as of yet? Use your mind to see, not restrict. Journal, script, use vocal affirmations and most importantly soothe any anxiety or worry about how it’s supposed to unfold. You’re not meant to understand it logically, it’s a process for the soul.

Moon in fire signs✨ you manifest when you are active! Get that energy flowing! Use the power of your heart and breath to invite new energy. Yoga for invoking energies can be wonderful to move any stagnant energy out your energy field. Go for a run, hype yourself up, play music you love! Dancing can help shake up stagnant energy as well.

Moon in water signs 🌊 you manifest best when you get enough sleep. Hydrate yourself, make sure your energy is clear and flowing the way it should be. Find your inner stillness, listen to yourself, and remember you’re here to make space for yourself amongst others. Singing bowls, mantras, chants would work wonderfully! Listen to music, get in touch with your dreamy side, and be the one to invoke change whilst remaining calm and grounded through it.

Moon in earth signs 💗 you manifest best when you know you are committed to your dream. If its in your long term you want it all the way, and thats your motivation! When you feel like the boss is when you manifest best. Take your time figuring out what you want and if it aligns with you, its important to separate others wants and desires from yours. Tap into the luxury lifestyle you know you deserve!

Moon aspecting Mercury: you manifest best when you journal, script, or say aloud what you desire. Have fun with your affirmations! Crystal work can also help you tap into universal energies, and clean your energetic body! This’ll boost your manifestations.

Moon aspecting Neptune: you manifest best when you indulge in music, or the finer things in life. Set the mood, set the tone, and allow yourself to dream. Meditations for your heart and third eye will help greatly! Create mood boards and visuals for what you want! See beyond the physical ✨

Moon aspecting Venus: You manifest best through self care, indulge in dressing up, and most importantly doing shadow work to free your heart space! Also creating visuals and mood board would help a lot. Allow yourself to get out your comfort zone and release what you’ve been complacent with.

Moon aspecting Pluto: You manifest through speaking as well, although it may happen at times where you least expect it. Tap into your deepest desires and transmute past pain related to that desire, and attract it! You have a raw ambition, power and strength you embody regardless of your past or present circumstances. “I don’t know how it’ll work, but I know it will.”

Moon aspecting Saturn: You manifest when you tap into your dedication commitment and stability. Manifest through the belief that no matter what is happening around you, you still remain committed and unbothered. Manifest for the long term.

Moon aspecting Sun: You manifest through vitality, power, and fun! Allow yourself to get creative with your manifestations, create a ritual, and be your best hype man! Be bold in what you want, and you shall attract. Balance your intuition with the powerful influence of the soul.

Moon aspecting Mars: You manifest when you accept your need for change, and your power to invoke change within yourself and others. Tap into that assertive, active, and fiery energy! Balance it with your feminine, allow yourself to receive just as much as you put out. Practice breath work and meditations for the heart!

Tarot cards associated with your sign & how to manifest ☁️🤍

The Star (Aquarius) • Justice (Libra) • The Lovers (Gemini)

Air signs you manifest after seeing the light, the hope, the glimmer of faith after an unpleasant or difficult situation. Reflect on the moments where others thought you couldn’t do xyz, reconstruct your faith and hope in realizing was it ever really true what they said? The narratives past down through friends or family? Did it ever truly serve you? Were they truly saying that because of self sabotage, or was there a factual truth in what beliefs were passed to you? Get in touch with the fact there are multiple, and all truths. All feelings, all experiences. We are not limited by our past, nor our mind, nor the stories we conformed to in our childhood! Reevaluate if the stories were a projection or your truth.

The Sun (Leo) • The Emperor (Aries) • Temperance (Sagittarius)

Fire signs you manifest best when you tap into your inner child. Provide for it what it didn’t experience growing up. How can you add to their childhood experiences? How can you fulfill their dreams now? Take care of them the way you wish you had been by others. Provide truth, structure, and discipline, but also let your inner child free and have a say in how you manifest! Love yourself enough to hear them. Create a beautiful bond with whats inside, and listen to the deepest parts of you. Your intuition lights up like fire when you connect to your inner child! Remain balanced & committed in your dreams and aspirations. If one did not work, where can you improve? Modify any self sabotage beliefs from childhood, and work towards your power and truth.

The Hermit (Virgo) • The Devil (Capricorn) • The Empress (Taurus)

For the earth signs! You manifest best through transforming self sabotage into inner love & compassion. Lean into yourself rather external things to cope. Build better inner structure, and soften yourself. Holding on tightly can break things. Introspection is your light and awareness to realizing what needs to change. Your narratives and stories are keys in what you’ve been telling yourself for so long. Work on your self concept and what you choose to believe in, that’ll help you manifest. Be your own boss, take a stable and committed approach to yourself and making all and every dream come true the way it was always supposed to!

The Moon (Cancer) • Death (Scorpio) • The Hanged Man (Pisces)

Ya’ll water signs manifest best when you find inner stillness and cultivate true inner calm. Find your center throughout the chaos. Work on realizing its always there for you. Once you know that space is there, work on seeing the love that surrounds you, and how that space is easily accessible if you just tune in. If you just listen to yourself. Lean into your intuitive truth, and allow your intuition to come forward. Allow yourself to shift into this reality with ease. Find peace in knowing you can access any dimension and reality by tapping in. (Like sliding into dms 😂) anyway! Harmony. Create harmony within your environment and prove to yourself you can have it come to you too.

Paid Readings you can book here 💗☁️

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depravitycentral · 9 months

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Yandere! Kyojuro Rengoku General Profile

Yandere! Kyojuro Rengoku x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, stalking, violence, he breaks your fingers, Kyo feeds you bird-style and it's pretty gross and gnarly, delusions/detachment from reality, Stockholm Syndrome, masturbation, slight misogyny/traditional gender roles, forced motherhood, allusions to non-con, you and Kyo share a toothbrush ugh, lots of references to death, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 11K

DARLING PROFILE:

Caring

Similarly to most other Hashira, Kyojuro is greatly attracted to honest, genuine kindness.

His world is so full of hatred, death, and pain, and having a darling who is softer, sweeter, more empathetic makes his heart swell.

(And, occasionally, other things will swell when he sees his darling smiling or complimenting or speaking with children - but Kyojuro pays it no mind. So you shouldn’t, either.)

There’s just something so alluring about a darling who genuinely cares for the people around them - he himself is quite positive, if not blunt, and a darling who can match his philosophy of protecting and caring for those who need it would be a perfect match.

He likes the idea of a darling who has the best intentions of others’ at heart; it’s refreshing to see and interact with someone who is so pure and wonderfully kind, because while his fellow slayers are certainly committed to a good cause, his darling is different.

They’re naturally sweet, utterly unaware of the horrors of this world and yet still striving to make others smile, still trying to help undo any wrongs those around them have experienced.

This aspect of his darling is one of the first things he notices about them, and while he’s not a selfish man by any means, he’ll grow to absolutely love when this caring nature is directed at him, particular after long, difficult missions where he’s both physically and emotionally exhausted, only desiring to hold something soft and sweet and warm.

Coincidentally, something exactly like his darling.

Passionate

The specific passion itself is inconsequential – it doesn’t matter what his darling loves, as long as they love something.

He himself is driven by internal motivation and a righteousness to help others, and while his darling doesn’t need to be quite this serious, he likes the idea of them having goals and aspirations.

The most likely way this manifests itself within his darling is through a creative platform – art, music, culinary arts, writing, or any sort of activity in which his darling can express themselves.

He likes that his darling has something they truly enjoy, and he’s the type to want to learn about and indulge in his darling’s passion.

He’ll eagerly listen to everything they have to say, absorbing the information with wide, glittering eyes and a smile, trying so very hard to listen to their words but getting repeatedly distracted by how utterly adorable they look when they’re concentrating.

He can’t stop admiring the way they look when they’re discussing their passion, how happy they become, radiating a sort of joy and glow that only makes him fall harder and deeper, his obsession solidifying with every smile they give him.

And he’ll fully foster this passion of theirs – he’s got access to any resources his darling can dream of, easily providing them and enjoying the way their face lights up, how they become so grateful.

His only caveat is that he has to watch them as they work at their passion, getting a front row seat to watch them enjoy themselves, his bright eyes fixed on them the entire time because god, how are they so utterly perfect?

It’s endearing to Kyojuro because in his mind, his darling looks at him that way, too, with a smile and undying love.

Ambitious

Now, his darling doesn’t need to be ambitious in the sense that they take huge risks, or even that they have high expectations and goals for themselves.

It can manifest this way, sure, but the main core of why he finds this personality trait attractive is because it shows drive.

He likes a darling who has a strong sense of self; he doesn’t want to change his beloved in any way; he wants to be their pillar of support, to offer unwavering help and encouragement for whatever pursuits they’re chasing after, no matter how big or small.

He thinks it’s a wonderful thing to have dreams for the future, just as he does – he dreams of Senjuro once again having a happy family (one he hopes his darling will help provide), and of all demons being eradicated so that the world can live peacefully.

He’ll cherish and respect any dreams his darling possesses, but only if they don’t interfere with what he believes should happen.

He prioritizes his relationship with his darling above many things, and this includes what his darling wants most.

He will be expecting them to dutifully become his loving partner and wife, to bear his children and help him raise them, to be a guiding, loving hand to teach them morality, charity, and all sorts of other things that his darling hardly believes he possesses.

So while he’ll likely crush the ambitions his darling possesses, the mere fact that they have ambitions is attractive to him.

Talkative

It’s not that Kyojuro can’t fall for a quieter darling, but rather that he wants someone who will match his chattiness.

He’s naturally quite loud, truly a boisterous man who loves to interact with others.

He’s constantly peppering his darling with questions, his voice a steady flow as he just talks and talks and talks, throwing compliments and them alongside grandiose declarations of love, all intermixed with small talk about the weather or the flowers on the sides of the village pathways, or even about the pretty birds flying in the sky.

He just likes interacting with his darling, and he needs someone that is willing to return his eagerness to talk.

He likes the way his darling’s attention stays on him when he’s speaking to them; how their eyes stay fixed on his form, how they nod along to his words, how they laugh at his outlandish, unbelievable claims and logic, how they just simply acknowledge him, making him feel comfortable and seen and wanted.

Kyojuro will want to spend hours talking with his darling, and he needs someone who can match this energy. He needs a darling who can pepper him with their own questions, who can keep the conversation flowing and keep the interaction alive.

Besides, Kyojuro has this unwavering, unsatiable curiosity for his beloved, one that can only be partially quelled when his darling is revealing more and more about themselves.

And he’ll eagerly listen, mentally storing away each new piece of information, remembering absolutely everything because everything about his darling is important, something that must be remembered and cherished and worshipped.

They’re just perfect, and if they’re naturally chatty, it only furthers his obsession.

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Delusional

Generally speaking, from the moment that Kyojuro’s feelings for you fully form, he’s absolutely, utterly under the impression that every emotion, desire and draw he feels towards you is returned fully. He honestly believes that you’re just as in love as he is, that the connection he’s so acutely aware of between the both of you is mutual, that you’re just as desperate and eager to be his partner, his lover, his wife and the woman he’ll spend the rest of his life with.

He doesn’t have any real romantic experience - he’s been attracted to women before, sure, but he’s never courted someone before you simply because when he courts, he intends to wed.

And as a result, his only real reference for romance is his own parents’ relationship. And while it was loving, beautiful, healthy while his mother was still alive, time and his changing father have left Kyojuro with a bit of a warped view of love.

And this is where his delusions stem from - he’s confident, desperate for you to return the passionate feelings he holds for you, and he manages to convince himself of your growing love for him every day.

He’s so sure, in fact, that even as his obsession with you forms (slowly, as he’s a bit picky about partners and can be a bit oblivious even towards his own feelings), so do the beginnings of his detachment from reality. As he slowly begins realizing that he enjoys being in your presence more than most other people, your smiles and greetings of oh hello Rengoku, I didn’t know you’d be here will seem more and more like you expressing your glee at having him by your side rather than a simple, platonic welcome.

As he realizes that hearing you laugh makes his palms sweat and his heart race, he begins thinking your laugh is really for him, that your chuckles are stronger when they’re directed at him than compared to others.

He’s imagining your pretty face lighting up with that radiant smile behind closed eyes when he’s falling asleep at night, and slowly he begins concluding that your every quirk of the lip towards him must mean that you’re happy with him, that his presence alone fills you with a sort of joy that you simply can’t hide.

(And, perhaps you know that it’s you that fills his thoughts at night – maybe you’re purposefully plaguing his thoughts, trying to tell him something - perhaps you want him to think of you and your lovely mouth, the way your lips look when you say his name, how your tongue flicks out to wet them just so…)

It’s mostly innocent in the beginning; his delusions manifest more as simply misreading the signals you send him, honest mistakes that aren’t too uncommon – but, as the relationship (or, at least the one Kyojuro is trying so very hard cultivate) progresses, these slips in judgment become more and more profound, more and more difficult to ignore.

When he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest as he inhales deeply and enthusiastically greets you in a voice just a bit too breathy for your liking, Kyojuro sees your discreet attempts at ending the far-too-long hug as you merely trying to get comfortable.

Surely you just want to feel more of his body against your own, or want him to be closer so that there’s nothing separating you from him, from the love he’s oh so willing to give you.

When you bite your lip and avert your gaze as you politely ask him to stop staring at you so much and following you home, Kyojuro will simply smile, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving you a firm don’t worry, I don’t mind protecting you! It’s my place as a Hashira, after all, so don’t needlessly fret!

He honestly doesn’t understand why you’re not as happy as he is, and frankly he can’t even really fathom the idea that you aren’t happy – how can he, when he’s been searching for so many years for a partner to love and spoil?

How can he, when your body just seems to perfectly fit against his own, your voice like honey and your name a drug as it slips from his lips?

How can he, when he’s seen his father so harshly decline, when the memory of his mother is still so fresh, when he wants so badly to build a family of his own, to give Senjuro another family to call his?

How can he, when you become the sole reason he begins valuing his own life during missions, not being as reckless because he needs to come home to you - you need your lover and husband, of course.

(In more ways than one - who will protect you? Provide for you? Pleasure you?)

Kyojuro honestly latches onto you, his every thought and emotion revolving around you you you, to the point where even once he’s locked you away, deep inside the Rengoku residence with your shared bed and lovely, expensive new kimonos neatly folded in stacks upon stacks (all in shades of reds and golds, of course, to signify your status with him), he still won’t recognize that you’re always crying because you’re scared.

He won’t realizethat you flinch when he touches you because you don’t want him anywhere near you.

He won’t connect the dots that you spend each and every night curled up in a ball weeping because you just want to go home, please Kyojuro, please…

Try as he may, he just can’t fathom that you aren’t as madly, desperately in love – so don’t bother, really, because it’s much more hassle than it’s worth, and in the end he’ll get what he wants. He always will get what he wants, so why don’t you just give in?

He’ll never let you go, never believe any of your pleas to be freed from him, so why don’t you just accept his love?

Protective

Honestly, your personal combat abilities are irrelevant - in Kyojuro’s mind, you’re weak. Defenseless. Laughably unable to keep yourself safe and out of trouble - incapable, even, though it sounds a bit harsh.

He believes that you’re too fragile and sweet and wonderful to be anywhere near a demon, a human with bad intentions, or anything of the sort.

Your strengths lie not in battle, but in your charm and beauty - you’re so sweet, your words melting him like butter and leaving him as putty in your hands, his heart doing backflips in his chest as his fingers twitch to do anything and everything just to keep you smiling.

Your talents lie in the way you effortlessly intrigue him; your words ensnaring his attention no matter the topic, your touch sending electricity up his spine, even your most mundane actions making him stop and stare because every little thing you do is important.

You simply aren’t made for the battlefield, or for confrontation in general - he’s sure of it, and he’s arguably the most trustworthy source of judgment you could find. He’s a seasoned Hashira, seen more death than you can imagine, slaughtered more demons than you can count, so could he really be wrong in his assessment of your abilities?

He sees you as a bit of a baby, in all honesty, because while he’s more than aware of your womanly charms (the not so subtle way his eyes rake over your figure when he forces you to bathe with him is enough to convince you of that, if the way his hands ghost over the bulge of his trousers when you speak to him wasn’t enough), he still can’t shake the paranoia that you’ll one day be hurt.

He’s terrified that you can’t really take care of yourself as well as he can. And frankly, the paranoia isn’t unfounded – it’s difficult to fault him for his overprotectiveness when you think of his past, how often he sees death, and how often he’s the cause of it.

He’s too accustomed to seeing others’ lives lost, and he absolutely refuses to allow you the same fate, so long as he’s breathing and has enough finger strength to grip his sword and send air rushing through his lungs.

He’s determined to a disturbing degree to keep you safe; with every demon he decapitates, internally he’s sighing in relief because that’s one less monster that could potentially sink their claws into you - every demon dead is a step towards keeping you safe, healthy, alive, his.

He’s patronizing in an odd way, because while he doubts your capabilities, he doesn’t treat you like you’re a child. He’s just hovering, always, with his eyes glued to you and that same unnerving, wide smile on his lips that never seems to go away when you’re around him.

His gaze is wide and excited as he sees how you bring the bowl of soup to your lips to sip, the intensity of the way he watches making your hands tremble and a bit of the hot soup spill down to your chest.

He’ll let you feed yourself - for now - but as soon as you flinch, the heat and wetness making you cringe as you get up to clean yourself, he’s on you – a flash of yellow and red as he tut-tuts and uses the sleeve of his haori to wipe up the mess, a thumb against your lip and his face much too close to yours as he tells you to be careful, don’t hurt yourself, my flame.

He’s not letting you touch anything with sharp edges, for fear that you’ll trip and cut yourself, nor does he allow you permission to speak to anyone new that he hasn’t already extensively vetted in his own way.

(This comprises mostly of just simply observing someone, and the moment he sees something even slightly unfavorable - like a snarky comment or even having their hair be messy - he’s deciding that they’re not good enough to interact with you - you’re better than them, and speaking with them would only taint you, bringing you down from the pedestal he places you on.)

He’s controlling, not allowing anyone into your life that isn’t himself, to the point that he’ll simply show up the second another man or woman begins speaking with you, a strong arm around your waist with fingers digging in much harsher than they should, that familiar smile tight on his lips.

He’s terrified that he’ll one day lose you, and in a lot of ways keeping you safe is his own way of living up to the expectations of his mother.

You’re weak, so damn weak, and you need someone to care for you, to be there for you and take care of you in your time of need, and Kyojuro is more than happy to take on the role, to take responsibility of your life and safety.

It’s a bit overwhelming, how he’s always offering to do tasks for you, interrupting you halfway through to take over with that broad grin of his, that laugh and a rambunctious what kind of lover would I be if I didn’t carry your groceries for you making it difficult to stop him.

And really, eventually you’ll get to the point of relenting and letting him to do as he pleases, because as much as the man may intimidate you, scare you or disturb you, there’s just something about his desperation to please you that’ll get you feeling oddly flattered, flustered simply because of the lengths he’s willing to go.

Because really, while it may scare you how his hand always seems to find a place at your hip, don’t all the stories and movies have chivalrous male leads helping guide the girl through crowded areas, a steady hand to help keep them grounded, just as Kyojuro does?

Sure, it’s weird how he knows the order from every restaurant in town that you like, how he’s always able to show up at just the right time with a steaming bowl of udon or whatever you’re feeling, but doesn’t it feel nice to be cared for, that he thought of you and made the stop to buy you something?

It may be disturbing how he gulps and smiles wider every time he sees you bend over, but isn’t it flattering to know that he finds your body attractive?

He won’t allow you to place a finger on anything or anyone that could hurt you, so you’d better get used to the life of a pampered housewife – because while it will take him a long while to allow you to cook with any sort of heat, there’s something oddly therapeutic about being your big, strong partner that provides for you, while you keep his bed and heart warm, all with that natural charm he finds so alluring.

Clingy

Because Kyojuro’s perceptions of your relationship aren’t exactly realistic, he’ll come off as extremely, extremely needy to you. But it’s in a strange way – he’s not constantly clinging onto you, needing your reassurance and needing your eyes to stay focused entirely on him.

(He certainly won’t discourage this kind of behavior, of course, but he isn’t that outwardly desperate, and he isn’t the type to physically grasp your chin to keep you looking at him. He’ll perhaps grasp your hand or your waist to keep you at his hip, but he’s not quite that blatant.)

Instead, his clinginess manifests in how he’s simply always around you.

His presence will become a constant in your life – you’d be hard pressed to not see those familiar blond and red locks in your peripheral, or to hear that booming voice ringing in your ears. It would be difficult to find yourself in a public situation where Kyojuro isn’t standing diligently at your side, that blinding smile spread across his face, turning just a bit softer and a bit more earnest when it’s aimed at you.

Really, he simply hates being away from you. Not having you within his sight makes him nervous, anxiety itching at his stomach because where are you?

It’s not possessiveness, not a paranoia that you could be talking to other men, but rather an honest, genuine, horrible fear that you could be hurt, that someone could’ve taken you and injured you and touched you and possibly even have killed you.

And frankly, the fear isn’t too unfounded – you’ll understand why he's always rushing to you, literally running to catch up with you when you wander away from him, a steady hand pressing into your back as he pulls you into a hug, the faint smell of woodsmoke and musk filling your nose as the hard planes of his chest press against you.

It’s understandable, so you won’t really wonder why he’s always insisting on accompanying you every free moment he has, his presence acting as your shadow but much, much louder. It might make you uncomfortable, sure, because having someone always by your side is a little disorienting and overwhelming at times, but you’ll tolerate it – how can you tell Kyojuro no, anyway?

He’s so radiant when he’s giving you that smile, his eyes sparkling and his hands soft and gentle as he grasps onto yours, telling you that he’s so excited, we must try the new ramen shop down the street! I’ll order your favorite, you needn’t remind me what it is! I think we should share one, and perhaps a second or third…

(It’s probably not worth mentioning to him that you never even told him what your favorite is, he just seemed to know it, a fact that initially unnerved you, but you’ve found that guessing what you’ll like seems to be a talent of his. It’s not, of course, because he’s spent hours talking with any family members or friends of yours to learn every possible scrap of information about you that he can, introducing himself as your fiancé and charming them enough to get even the most sensitive secrets out of them, including your menstrual patterns, your bathing routine, even your temperament as a child because he’s convinced it will give him insight into the temperaments of your future – and inevitable – children together.)

You’ll disregard his penchant for always staying by your side in the beginning, but as time progresses it’ll become more difficult to let his behavior roll off your back.

Accompanying you to the market is fine, but you’ll bite your lip and find the courage to speak up when he ends up straying a good five feet behind you, his bright eyes burning holes into the back of your head as he keeps pace with you.

(When you turn around to ask him why he’s not walking with you, but rather trailing behind you like some sort of stalker, he’ll just laugh and tell you in that familiar, boisterous voice that he can protect you better this way! Besides, the view from this angle is excellent! Dissecting that last comment will only make you more uncomfortable, so you simply nod and keep walking, picking up your pace and desperately wishes you’d be arriving sooner.)

Him wanting to meet all your friends and acquaintances is fine, but when he’s pushing his way into the conversation and snaking an arm around your waist, you’ll feel just as awkward as your companions, disturbed by the casual manner with which Kyojuro handles you.

(This almost always leads to the assumption that the two of you are together, which you’ll frantically shake your head to, spouting some nonsense about being just friends that makes Kyojuro’s brows cock inwards, sending a glance at you with quizzical eyes. Just friends? You are certainly friends, but you’re more than that – friends don’t daydream about each other, and friends certainly don’t spend nights with ragged breaths, bucking hips, and the other’s name slipping from their lips like a prayer.)

He’s just a lot, and while you knew this from the beginning, time will only increase his behavior, pushing him more and more into spending time with you, into writing you letters while he’s away on a mission (they’re mostly detailing how much he misses you, telling you of each object and person that reminded him of you, and while it would be sweet, the sheer volume and frequency of these letters will make you loathed to open them), even into pushing past your boundaries and being much, much too familiar with you.

(You’ll bid him goodnight after he’s walked you home from the meal he insisted you share, but he doesn’t seem to get the hint and instead waltzes straight into your modest home, settling himself at your tableside and beaming at you, telling you to join me, my flame, I wish to hear about your deepest desires! He won’t insist on staying the night, as that would be too inappropriate for a not yet married couple – which he seems to be insinuating the two of you are – and will eventually take his leave, but not before gently grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss against your knuckles that’s much, much too wet, and far too long.)

His clinginess can be suffocating, of course, but once you’re stuck with him, forced to live in the Rengoku estate and call him your husband?

Well, if you thought he was needy before, it’s nothing compared to the way he treats you then – constantly wandering hands (concentrated mostly at your waist, hips, and squeezing your thighs), compliments that toe the line between heartfelt and disturbing (you are so very beautiful, particularly when you’re asleep – did you know that you smell a certain way when you’re unconscious? It’s sweet, like ripe fruit; I wish to smell it at all times), and those eyes always, always focused on you.

Every free moment he has goes into attending to you, whether you want it or not, so don’t even bother trying to get some distance from the Flame Pillar.

He will invade your space and he will not be regretful, his delusions most often barring him from even realizing that you’re uncomfortable.

He’s simply a man who ardently admires and desires you, and at the end of the day, you can’t even really blame him. Because, as they say, love makes one do crazy things, and he’s certainly, certainly in love with you.

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

When it comes to jealousy, Kyojuro is surprisingly relatively unaffected, all things considered.

He’s not someone who’s biting at your heels the moment another man spares you a glance, and while he obviously doesn’t like the way other men interact with you, he’s not nearly as suffocating regarding his possessiveness as some of his fellow Hashira.

He tends to give others the benefit of the doubt, and while he’s still very protective over you and would immediately step in if another man posed a threat to your safety or comfort, he doesn’t automatically assume that any man who interacts with you has nefarious intent.

And so, he doesn’t immediately grow jealous and snarl at any man stupid enough to come within a few feet of you – he’s not as depraved, at least in that sense.

(In others, absolutely, but if Kyojuro has one redeeming quality, it’s his judgement of character.)

However, this isn’t because of some moral high ground the Pillar possesses, or a firm sense of lucidity – in fact, it’s quite the opposite, as his delusions drive most of his indifference regarding other men giving you attention.

He’s so, so confident in the idea that you’re meant for one another that he honestly doesn’t even register that you could interested in another man, that you could be stolen away from him willingly, that you could fall in love with anyone but the Flame Hashira himself.

He just doesn’t get it, and so he isn’t as suffocating as he could be in these situations – no, not by a long shot, something you’re admittedly equal parts lucky and unlucky for.

Because really, while you won’t have to deal with the isolation that comes with extreme levels of possessiveness, being Kyojuro’s darling is certainly not an easy ride – how can it be, when he’s so blatantly unaware of the signs in front of him that a man is coming on to you, that he’s smiling and flirting with you and reaching out to brush the hair away from your eyes while you bashfully grin and laugh at his lame jokes?

How can you not be unsettled with the way he’s so unaffected, always spouting nonsense about how in love you two are, how perfect of a match you are, how no man would ever dare take you away from me – how could anyone break such a real bond of love?

It’s disturbing, and as time passes slowly you’ll come to realize that while he won’t drag you kicking and screaming away from another man trying to get more than familiar with you, the alternative of watching him broadcast what he perceives to be your ‘relationship’ to every stranger who makes eye contact with you will get old very quickly, the feeling of him almost trying to show you off making your skin crawl and a cold sweat break out over your hairline.

Kyojuro isn’t subtle, not in the least, which is why the minute another man approaches you, you should be ready – the embarrassment will be thick, as will the discomfort of everyone involved (except the Hashira himself, of course).

So you might as well stop trying to converse with other people – after all, Kyojuro has no problem acting on his intuition, so won’t you just not give him a reason to be so extravagant?

The moment the man in the small market stall shoots you a shy smile and approaches you, there’s already a sinking feeling settling in your gut, the knowledge that your self-proclaimed ‘lover’ is only a few stalls down making you bite your lip in anxiety.

He’s polite, by all accounts – full lips a pleasant pink color ask you about your opinion on the newest shipment of melons, the fruit laid out in front of you in a pleasing display. There’s a respectful distance of a few feet between your bodies, and his voice is soft, calming, the complete opposite of the boisterous, loud slayer you’ve come to be so close with. It’s refreshing, and you shoot him a smile as well as you point to a certain melon on the display.

This one looks ripe – you can tell, you know, by the markings on the fruit. The more yellow spots, the better the texture will be.

The man’s still looking at you, but his gaze shifts to the fruit as he nods in agreement. He laughs a bit, then reaches out to pick up the melon. I’ll trust your advice, then.

The interaction is somewhat short, sweet and innocent, and though you get the feeling that the man finds you attractive (the light blush on his cheeks tells you as much), you don’t feel particularly uncomfortable.

But all too soon the peace of the moment is ending, and a familiar call of your name has your spine stiffening, your throat bobbing as you heavily swallow. The call comes again, and all too soon there’s an unfortunately familiar hand settling on your waist, Kyojuro’s muscular arm wrapping around your body and pulling you flush against his side.

Being so close in public would normally embarrass you, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when you know what’s coming.

My flame, who is this? A friend of yours? Kyojuro asks, and before you can open your mouth to answer, the stranger does.

Oh, um, I’m Takeru.

He’s visibly uncomfortable, and as you try to subtly squirm out of the slayer’s grasp, Kyojuro’s smile only widens.

He nods his head lightly, his smile growing even brighter. A pleasure to meet you, Takeru! I am Kyojuro Rengoku, thank you for helping keep her safe at this busy market place!

The man – Takeru – shifts awkwardly, unsure how to respond to such a strange comment, but it doesn’t seem to stop your unwanted companion.

You see, she has such a habit of wandering away in crowded places, and it makes it hard to keep an eye on her! You’d be amazed at how often I’ve seen her trip and fall in places like these!

He laughs at that, and you feel a new kind of embarrassment eat away at you. Does he really need to be sharing all this information?

Yes, it’s very crowded, Takeru agrees, and you silently send him a pleading look. He blinks at you, discomfort clearly swimming in the black depths of his dark eyes, and internally you beg Kyojuro to just drag you both away from the stranger.

She can be so forgetful, but that’s the wonderful thing about love! Despite her clumsiness, she is still graceful and elegant to me, and that’s a sign of true love, wouldn’t you agree?

Takeru nods, hesitantly, and you grit your teeth.

Kyojuro sighs dreamily from beside you, squeezing you even tighter against his side. And I do love her, of course! She is my soulmate, the future mother of my children, and every time I gaze at her, my devotion only grows deeper!

You’re visibly embarrassed now, trying to cover your face and desperately willing the interaction to just be over, but Kyojuro doesn’t seem to hear your silent prayers.

He grabs your wrist gently, his lips pressing kisses against the inside of your wrist, and immediately you’re eyes grow wide. Surely he wouldn’t, not in a public setting –

He cuts your thoughts off with a press of his lips against yours, the groan that he releases against you making you shiver in anything but pleasure. Your eyes are still open, and you see Takeru staring with a dropped jaw, evidently shocked at Kyojuro’s blatant display of affection.

Your brows furrow, and as he slips his tongue past your lips, you find yourself only able to focus on the way Kyojuro is growing louder, his groans getting more pronounced as the kiss grows hungrier, more desperate, feeling less like a tender, heartfelt sign of love.

After a good two minutes he finally pulls away, your lips feeling sticky and wet from his saliva. He stares down at you with heady eyes, his tongue licking his lips as he whispers your name under his breath.

You go to say his name, to ask him if you can just leave the market, but he cuts you off with a laugh.

Oh my flame, where did Takeru go? We must have scared him off with our display of passion! My sincere hopes that he’ll one day find a love like ours.

You very much don’t wish that, but as Kyojuro grasps your hand and guides you to the edge of the market place, passing through the spot Takeru had departed from during your sudden and overtly steamy kiss, you’ll find yourself sighing.

The blatant act of romance was unwarranted and unwanted, of course, but somehow your lips are tingling, your heart racing in shamefulness and something else – something that grows stronger and Kyojuro turns to look back at you, a grin stretching across his lips, his cheeks tinted pink as he gazes at you.

It’s wrong and you’ll hate it, every part of you screaming to not be fooled by the boyish look he’s giving you; he’s a slayer, a grown man who very clearly doesn’t understand that you are not future spouses, that you are not in love.

You’ll hate yourself for it, but even as he leads you back to your home, guiding you and not letting your hand go the whole way (even though you you’re very familiar with the route and don’t need his navigational help), you’ll find yourself almost, almost wishing he’d kiss you again – just not in front of a stranger this time.

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Because he’s on the more delusional side, Kyojuro’s view of your relationship is warped.

He’s already eager in the context of romantic relationships, but in yours, specifically, he’s rushing through all the steps, too excited to get that gold ring on your finger and his last name replacing yours to really take his time with you.

And this becomes problematic particularly because you will have no idea, at least at first, that the Flame Hashira believes you’re courting one another, that it’s simply a matter of time before you’re keeping his bed warm and nursing his children.

And because of this quick timeline of your relationship, Kyojuro is actually quite quick to propose living together. Of course, it’s a bit taboo to be living under the same roof before you’re wed, but he’s willing to bend the traditional rules a bit if you put up any sort of opposition.

If you decline his blatant requests to live with him, he won’t relent. Initially, he’ll bluntly ask you in the middle of a shared meal if you’d like to move your belongings into the Rengoku mansion - I can have a few servants come to assist in the moving process, if you’d like, and of course I’ll be there to help carry anything heavy!

When you stare at him like he’s grown two heads, he’ll be a little confused, and curiously asks you why you seem to be shocked.

When you honestly respond, at a loss as to why he’s asking you to live with him when you’re very, very firmly just friends, Kyojuro will only laugh in response, his hand coming down to slap his knee because oh, you’re so funny, you sweet, coy little thing.

He’ll drop the subject that day, moving on to ask you about your thoughts about the weather or your favorite color or anything at all, greedy to hear your voice and bask in your attention.

But the next day, when he suddenly pops out of nowhere and accompanies you on your walk into town to buy a few necessities, the question is prompted once more.

I only have two separate futons, but I’m sure we could push them together! Similarly, I only have two blankets, but I’m sure my body heat will keep you warm!

You’ll be confused, giving yourself just a hair more distance between your bodies (he’d gotten very close without you noticing), throwing him a glance and worryingly asking what are you talking about?

He’s so nonchalant when he answers our sleeping arrangements, of course that it makes you wonder if you’ve missed something, if you’re somehow not in the loop because when the fuck did you agree to sleep in the same room as him, much less in such a position where you could feel his body heat?

You’ll negate his questions and try to change the topic once more, but Kyojuro is relentless - everyday there will be a new question of when you’ll inevitably be living together, and with every day he gets more and more restless to finally have you in his arms as he sleeps, to come home to you after long missions, to relish in the sight of you peacefully reading or crafting in the morning sun, wearing his clothing and smelling like him.

He’s a patient man, yes, but even Kyojuro has his limits - and he finally reaches this limit when one day he can’t seem to find you anywhere.

It’s like you’ve disappeared off the face of the Earth - he’d wanted to spend some time with you (really, he’d just finished his allotted training for the day and had been idly daydreaming about holding your hand the whole time, and was now in desperate need of finding you to intertwine your fingers with his), but your home was empty and none of your neighbors seemed to remember seeing you leave.

Immediately worry is eating away at him, because his sole job as your future lover and husband is to keep tabs on you and protect you, and he’d been too busy focusing on himself and getting stronger to fulfill his duty.

He searches for you in all the common spots he knows you visit, and with each empty location his desperation gets a bit more extreme, his panic slowly engulfing him because where the fuck could you be?

Eventually he’s sprinting around the general area you reside in, running mile after mile as his smile slips away and his entire body grows sweaty, his heart racing and even a few tears threatening to well in his eyes because he can’t stomach the thought that you’ve been hurt somehow, that someone has stolen you, that you’re simply gone.

It’s not until the evening that he eventually stumbles upon you, your pretty kimono stained with a bit of dirt as the bottom hem and your shoulders a bit slumped from the heavy bag slung over them, your limbs aching from the long journey it’d taken to visit a friend a few villages over.

He happens to run by you along the path, and immediately he’s stopping and staring, his chest visibly heaving, his eyes wide and vulnerable as he blinks, pinching himself to make sure this is real, that you’re really standing in front of him, that you haven’t been devoured like he’d been imagining.

But all too soon he’s rushing forward, the wind knocked out of your lungs as he tackles you to the ground, clutching you against his chest as he bombards you with questions, slurred and rushed as he asks if you’re okay, are you hurt? Where were you? Why didn’t you tell me you’d be gone today? Did you speak to anyone? Did anyone touch you? Were you scared without me?

He’s speaking so quickly and loudly into your ear that you can’t even get a response in, his voice slightly uneven and betraying the influx of emotion swimming through his chest. He’ll pull back to gaze at you, thumbs brushing over your cheek, before smiling softly and pressing a soft, long kiss to your forehead, whispering to you that you’ll be safe now, my love, forever.

Then it all goes black, and you wake up dressed in a much too nice kimono, sleeping in an ornate room in a futon you don’t recognize, familiar eyes trained on your form as his seated figure watches you slowly wake up beside him.

As a captor, Kyojuro is mostly just suffocating.

Because he still heavily believes in the delusions he’s been nursing since the beginning of his infatuation with you, he doesn’t see anything wrong with what he’s done. He doesn’t see his relocation of you as kidnapping, nor does he understand why you seem so unhappy to be with him.

It was inevitable that you’d be sharing the same home and bed, didn’t you know?

Why do you seem so surprised when he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you flush against his body, spooning you and sighing your name into your ear with just a bit too much reverence?

Why are you flinching away from him when he pulls you close for a kiss, his calloused fingers gently grasping your chin as he whispers between wet, loud kisses that he loves you, that he’s more in love with you than you could possibly imagine, my flame, you are my light in eternal darkness.

He’s sappy and too much and always hovering around you, his presence smothering you in every sense of the word. He’s clingy and needy, always wanting to be watching you and simply observe you, because even though he now spends nearly every hour of every day he has off in your presence, everything you do is still special to him, interesting and wonderful and important, and he has no sense of boundaries.

He will be standing close to you, practically breathing down your neck. He will ask you all sorts of personal questions, ranging from things like your greatest fears and most embarrassing moments to your menstrual cycle and which spots feel best when you’re touching yourself to the thought of him.

(He assumes you must pleasure yourself while thinking of him, because he does, too, religiously, every night, your pretty face and voice and body at the forefront of his thoughts as he paints his fist white over and over and over.)

He doesn’t see any reason why there should be any sort of barriers between the two of you, because you’re soulmates - made for one another, destined to spend your lives together, your fates irrefutably intertwined and brought together by the unyielding, passionate love you possess for one another.

And, unfortunately, this lack of barriers manifests itself in some pretty undesirable ways - you’ll be sharing one singular toothbrush, for example, Kyojuro insisting that it’s romantic and sweet and becoming of a young couple to share everything with one another, even their saliva.

He’s having the two of you share undergarments; they’re all made of soft, smooth cloth, in a variety of neutral colors that he’ll wear for the day, then shuffle up your legs the next day, smiling and licking his lips because the fabric that spent all day pressed up against him is now pressed up against you.

(And, on days where you’re particularly unlucky, sometimes Kyojuro lets his thoughts run a bit wild once he’s wearing them, his eyes fluttering closed as he imagines you and subtly ruts against his palm as he waits for nightfall in the small village his next mission is in, the time passing slowly until he’s gasping your name and staining the undergarment with wet warmth, already giddy and excited to have you wear them tomorrow, unwashed.)

He’ll even sometimes share food - and not in a sweet, romantic way, but rather in a raw, connected way; he’ll take a bit of food and chew it, then press his lips against yours and push it into your mouth, encouraging you to chew as well, before eventually kissing you once more and swallowing it all himself, his grin nearly blinding because now he’s eaten both the meal and you, or at least a bit of your spit.

He’s just weird, and while he’s constantly showering you in compliments and spoiling you with anything and everything under the sun, it’ll be hard to adjust to this new, strange lifestyle simply because he doesn’t really allow you time to adjust.

He’s expecting everything to be sunshine and roses from the moment you wake up as a freshly kidnapped darling, his expectations high that you’ll be pliant and willing and happy to learn that you’re finally, finally together.

And while it takes a lot of disobedience from you to snap him out of his rose colored view of you, Kyojuro is doing everything in his power to make sure that your relationship is perfect, that he’s taking good care of you and loving you as he should.

Which leads to another important aspect of being his darling - he doesn’t see women is inferior in any way (Shinobu and Mitsuri alone have dispelled that image), but he likes the idea of you being his housewife, fulfilling traditionally feminine duties.

He likes the idea of you taking care of the home, making sure dinner is cooked and served for him in the evening (he’ll often send a crow your way when he’s heading home after missions, just so that you can prepare for his arrival - normally, this means a meal and very little clothing adorning your frame, so that he can feast on your delicious food and then your delicious body), and attending to his every need as he does you.

He likes the idea of you keeping the mansion clean and eagerly awaiting his return home when he’s away, your devotion to him keeping you motivated to make sure everything is perfectly in order for him.

He’s trying for children very, very early on, his thrusts slow, deep and meaningful as he kisses you and promises that this will finally be the load that takes, because the mere idea of you swollen with his child and needing his help to do things even as simple as sitting down makes him giddy and unbearably excited.

And he doesn’t want just one child - oh no, he wants many, as many as you’re willing to give him.

He wants the perfect family with you, and as your captor, he won’t try to hide this wish. You will be made aware that he wants you to dote on him, that he wants you to spread your legs and conceive his child, that he wants you you you.

(He’s discussing potential names with you within the first week of having kidnapped you, his fingers idly tracing over your stomach as he tells you that the first born must be named Shinjuro, then perhaps we’ll have a daughter, and she can be named Hana! But we must also have some named Takeru, Ucharo, Nakagome, Watabe, and of course Shigeru! And after that, if you have any names in mind, we can surely name the following children them!)

Kyojuro isn’t necessarily bad, per se, as he does genuinely spoil you and give you all the time and attention and physical affection he can, but you’ll feel weighed down, crushed, drowning in the way he always seems to take and take from you.

But eventually, you will grow dependent on him - how can you not? He’s still so sweet with all the compliments he gives you (a little deranged, perhaps, but the sentiment is there), the reverence in his eyes when he gazes at you, the gentleness and eagerness in his touch when he has his hands on you.

He’s complicated, yes, but life with him will be so very simple - just bend to his whims, and perhaps you’ll even enjoy the way he hugs you so tightly it nearly hurts, or how he limits the number of servants who are allowed to speak with you - he just loves you, and is it so wrong to enjoy being loved?

PUNISHMENTS:

As his darling, you’re somewhat lucky that Kyojuro is as delusional as he is, if only because it keeps him mostly blind to any misbehavior and attitude you can throw at him.

Of course, he has his limits, but in general he’s able to write off any snarky comments of yours or slight attempts to put distance between the two of you as you simply you trying to be funny, barking out a laugh and moving even closer to you, pressing into your space even more, making sure there’s not an inch of space between your bodies.

Or, sometimes, he interprets your very blatant rebellions against him as you simply trying to test his resolve – he thinks you’re trying to force him into showing just how deeply he loves you, as if you’re testing just how strong his feelings for you are.

And while he finds this just the slightest bit offensive (you’re doubting his love for you – his passion for you; can you not tell that his heart beats only for you? Can you not see that alongside his duty to the Corp, you’re the reason he breaths, the reason he wakes up in the morning, the reason he’s alive?), it mostly serves as motivation for him to love you harder, to become more expressive with his feelings.

It pushes him to hug you tighter, his fingers nearly leaving bruises with the strength of his grip around you, the hugs going much longer and getting more intimate, if the brush of something big and hard against your thigh is any indication.

It pushes him to compliment you more, the words falling from his lips with such conviction that it’ll almost make you flustered, if the content wasn’t so unnerving.

(There’s lots of you are so beautiful, my flame, but there’s also a lot of you look so peaceful in your sleep, it makes me want to lock you away forever and keep you mine and deep inhales followed by your scent sets me on fire, my love, you don’t know what you do to me.)

He views most of your rebellions as simply you trying to catch his attention, perhaps being a sign that you feel you’re being neglected by all the missions he must leave you and attend to.

And frankly, Kyojuro doesn’t blame you – he wishes he could give you more attention too, because although he feels his job is wildly fulfilling and the morally correct thing to do, a more selfish part of his heart yearns to spend his days with you in his hands instead of his sword, your body curled up against his while he keeps you warm and tells you how deeply he loves you.

And because of all the different avenues he employs to simply disregard any negative behavior from you, punishments with Kyojuro are extremely rare. It takes quite a bit to push him into reality for even a brief moment, to force him to come face to face with the fact that you aren’t happy and that you don’t love him.

He only has a few triggers that can be powerful enough to force him into this mindset – you harming yourself, and you attempting to escape.

When you injure yourself, it’s difficult to rationalize why you would have done that, but he’s normally able to scold you (with condescending words and tone, that same smile stretched across his lips), telling you to be more careful and let me prepare your bath next time, all burns from hot water must be avoided in the future! But you trying to escape is not so easy to twist into a pleasing fantasy of his.

It’s much harder to understand why you’re ceaselessly trying to break open the windows of the estate, to the point where your knuckles bleed and your elbows bruise. It’s harder to understand why you try to work at the lock keeping the main doors sealed, your poor fingernails splitting and aching from all the tugging and pulling.

He’s not sure why you’re going through so much trouble – surely there must be easier ways to get his attention. Surely there must be less painful and pitiful methods to get him fawning over you and proving his dedication to you – so why aren’t you taking them? Why are you choosing this difficult path, one that makes him apprehensive to leave you alone for more than thirty seconds?

(Not that that’s the only reason he’s hesitant to leave you alone – his clinginess and desire for your physical touch is the bulk majority – but it’s still a major player.)

And when he asks you, with his arms wrapped around your abdomen, your own arms flailing and your legs kicking at anything you can reach, your answer will have him pausing for a moment, an unwelcome feeling of reality washing back over him.

Because I hate being here, I want to go home! Please, let me go home!

His spine goes straight at that, his eyes widening ever so slightly, your punches and kicks to his shoulders and thighs doing nothing to faze him. You want… to go home? But aren’t you already home, by his side?

His grip tightens on you, a sort of displeased hum ringing in your ears. He’s carrying you away from the front doors and down the convoluted hallways of the estate, his grip on you never weakening.

Your words repeat over and over in his head, each replay confusing him more and more. You aren’t happy being here? With him? He bites his lip, bright eyes glancing down at you in his arms, with big tears slipping down your cheeks and your shoulders shaking with poorly concealed sobs.

This doesn’t seem like an attempt at gaining his attention – why would you go through such lengths? In all his time of falling in love with you, he’s never known you to be such a good actor.

Your tears look real, as does the sound of your voice when you whisper his name and weakly pound your fist against his chest, begging him to let me go home, I can’t be here any longer, I can’t stand it!

He sets you down onto the bed of the bedroom he’s brought you into – the bedroom where he forces you to sleep beside him, your nightclothes sticking to your skin with the heat that radiates from his body and the sheer proximity his forced cuddling creates.

He’ll watch as you scramble away from him, curling your knees to your chest and looking up at him with such raw, pained eyes, and for a moment it makes Kyojuro’s heart clench, genuine regret rushing through him.

Has he made you this upset? Is he the reason for your anguish? It makes something heavy and uncomfortable settle into his chest, and it’s that driving force that pushes him to come closer to you, matching your every scoot away from him with a step towards you.

Eventually your back hits the wall and he kneels before you, his face mere inches from your own.

Tell me, my flame, why are you so displeased?

His question makes you gulp, but before you can stop yourself your mouth is already moving, every repressed thought and emotion you’ve felt the last few weeks you’ve been stuck with him finally coming to light.

Because you’re a monster! You’ve kidnapped me and forced me into being your wife, and you have the audacity to ask me why I’m upset? I can’t stay with you, Kyojuro, not here, not anywhere! We aren’t in love – you’re mistaken, I don’t love you and whatever this is, it’s not love, so don’t tell me you love me! Please, just let me return to my home and family, I beg of you.

You cut yourself off with a small sob, and as your eyes flutter closed for a brief moment, your blood runs cold when they reopen.

You’ve never seen Kyojuro look like this – gone is that familiar grin of his, instead replaced with a harsh, straight, tight lipped expression. His eyes no longer hold any of the warmth and adoration he normally gazes at you with – rather, they seem unbearably cold, the heavy weight of his stare making you shrink in on yourself despite your rather brave speech. And something about his presence feels much larger than you’ve ever experienced it – it’s in this moment that you realize just how defined and huge the muscles he’s sporting across his upper and lower body are, the man before you holding more strength in his pinky finger than you in all of your body.

It’s crushing, the sick, horrible feeling that something is terribly wrong making your every hair stand on end, your breath ragged as you wait for his next move. Kyojuro nods slowly, his expression not changing.

I see.

You bite your lip, anxiety making a pit form in your stomach.

You need to be reminded of what’s important, my flame. You’ve become misguided – but don’t fret, I will help guide you back to the path. This will hurt, but with time you’ll understand my actions and perhaps even thank me for them.

His words have red flags raising immediately in your mind, but before you can really even process your own questions, his hand is shooting out grasping on of yours, fingers pressing against the pad of your index finger and pushing pushing pushing –

There’s a sickening crunch noise that fills your ears, and everything feels numb for a moment before white-hot, acute agony rushes through you, your finger already swelling and throbbing from the broken bone now within it.

Kyojuro watches as you sob harder, your eyes red and puffy as you look at him, your gaze weak and, quite frankly, pitiful. He only takes a deep breath, his Adam’s apple bobbing, before moving to the next finger, a matching crunch sound only making you cry harder.

Eventually, each finger on your left hand is broken, his hands already moving to start on your right. He’s quick about each break, not letting the pain linger any longer than absolutely necessary, but it doesn’t matter.

By the time he finishes with your right thumb, you’re nearly numb from the pain, your tears having run dry as you shake and jerk with every hiccup and sob that wracks your frame. The sight hurts Kyojuro, truly – and he’ll tell you as much.

Shh, oh my flame, don’t cry – I know it hurts terribly, but so does my heart. Do you see now? Do you see that I love you? I’m showing you that our love is real and pure – I will nurse you back to your proper health. I will be your hands when you cannot touch, and I will stay at your bedside every free moment to keep you company and ensure a quick recovery. Do you understand now? This is your home – no one can care for you in the way that I can.

His voice is soft, with a certain condescending lilt to it that only makes you dumbly nod, the pain still rendering you numb to your surroundings. And as Kyojuro carefully picks you up once more, moving you to your shared futon and gently tucking you under the covers, he’ll quickly gather some small sticks and medical gauze, wrapping each finger and cooing at you all the while.

And as he places a kiss onto each finger tip once its wrappings are complete, you’ll find yourself considering his words.

The conviction to individually break each finger of your lover is certainly no joke – perhaps he could be correct? Is this love?

Is the way he'll carefully feed you your meals as your wounds heal a sign of his truly undying feelings for you?

Is the way he bathes you (with wandering hands and stuttered breaths) a sign that he does truly care for you?

Is the way he helps you use the restroom without the use of your own hands a sign that he’ll truly stand by your side through darkness and light?

Your brain screams no, every ounce of your independence fighting the stream of questions, but some part of you finds comfort in the notion, in believing Kyojuro when he says that he loves you.

And as the days pass and your injuries slowly heal, your captor’s constant presence by your side helping to keep you clean, healthy and well fed, you’ll find that part of you growing louder and louder, drowning out your mind.

Because really, does it even matter? Kyojuro Rengoku is a man of dedication and unwavering devotion – and if he wants you to love him, isn’t it only a matter of time before he succeeds?

After all, who are you to stand your ground in the face of someone like him?

OVERALL DANGER:

6/10

Kyojuro isn’t necessarily dangerous, or at least in the sense of being a threat to your life. He’s clingy and needy and out of touch with reality, of course, but he doesn’t enjoy the notion of hurting you. He’s willing to, if it’s his only choice, but you’ll never need to worry that any hidden sadistic tendencies of his will emerge. He’ll never suddenly develop the desire to see you cry, nor will he suddenly discard you should his feelings dissipate.

Once his infatuation begins, Kyojuro is committed to making sure that you stay healthy, happy, and – most importantly – by his side.

He’s convinced that he’s the one that can make you happy, that he can give you the most perfect, loving future, filled with laughter, kisses, stolen touches and even a few children with bright yellow and red hair running around the estate.

He’s convinced that he can make you happy, that he already does make you happy, and it will be extremely difficult to snap him out of this fantasy he’s created for the two of you.

He’s an influential man with extreme importance, and you’d be extremely hard pressed to find anyone who would even believe you if you were to somehow escape him, if you were to somehow catch on to his nefarious intentions before he’s stolen you away.

It’s the combination of being surrounded by death, and a yearning to be happy and build a loving family that pushes him to pursue you, developing a future with you feeling so fucking important that he simply can’t resist the drive to court you, to wed you, to see your gorgeous smile and the pretty golden ring with flames engraved on it around your finger.

He’s simply a man in love, and if that love means his hands on your body, pulling you closer and closer and closer until you can hardly breath, so be it.

It’s only natural for something as powerful as love to create such a strong devotion, and isn’t it oddly romantic, in a way? To know that someone as powerful, important and revered as Kyojuro is in love with little old you?

Doesn’t it make you feel good to know you have the Flame Pillar wrapped around your finger, that he’d get on his knees for you at just the merest flutter of your lashes?

He’s truly in love, so embrace it with open arms – he sure is, and things will be much, much better for you the sooner you accept the love he’s so frantically delivering to you.

#yandere kny #yandere rengoku #_kny #_kyojuro rengoku #yandere kyojuro rengoku #yandere demon slayer

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pastryleclerc · 8 months

Text

je vais t'aimer

requested: yes/no

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader (one shot)

warnings: slow burn smut (the act itself is about two pages long, it's also my first!!), my bad english (and possibly bad writing), language, established bf/gf relationship, some fluff of charles and the reader making music together and being domestic towards the end, lots of text in between the lyrics - please imagine yourself singing in one go, reader is described to have brunette hair and blue eyes, mentions of death and dying, oral (fem and male receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!) but reader is said to be on the pill, cock warming if you squint, also slight breeding kink towards the end, please comment if you find anything else and i'll add it to the list

word count: 4.846 words (with lyrics), 4.352 words (without lyrics)

a/n: hello guys 🥰 finally it's here - my first fic! i truly can't believe that i wrote an almost seven page long one shot but here we are. 🤩 the inspiration for the fic was "je vais t'aimer" by louane from the movie "la famille bélier" (the original was sung by michel sardou) - go and give the song a listen if you can :) i've proofread the text but i'm sure there will be a few mistakes, especially when it comes to grammar and commas, since english is not my first language. also, i feel like the ending is a bit rushed. 😅 feel free to let me know what you think as feedback and constructive criticism is always welcome 🙏 if you can find the symbolism used in this, i'll give you a cookie 🍪 in addition to that there's a hint to one of my favorite shows - leave a comment if you know what it is 😉 (italics = lyrics, brackets = translations) - here we go, i hope you enjoy this :) | *"Tonnerre de Dieu" is an idiom meaning something like "Bloody hell!"

🔎 directions | 🔎 masterlist

The cool summer breeze coming through the window – which was left open after last night’s activities – softly grazed her skin. The warm sunrays that rested upon her eyelids awakened her slowly. It was an early Sunday morning in the Monégasque summer – almost too early for her liking – so she blinked a few times but ultimately decided to close her eyes again, hoping to get a few more hours of sleep. Trying to escape the rising sun she turned towards where she thought her lover would be laying, hoping to snuggle up to him while enjoying the last day of their free weekend. But when she reached out her warm, delicate hands, all she could feel were empty sheets that had started to become cold already, indicating that her boyfriend had been out of their shared bed for a while now. So much for staying in bed.

Slowly Y/N sat up, letting out a yawn while stretching her arms above her head. By doing so, her own sheets slipped down her body, uncovering her very naked breasts. She sighed to herself, memories of the previous night came flashing back shortly, making her miss the brunette boy even more. Her heart yearned for him, thinking about the love and intimacy they shared. So the young woman made it her mission to find her other half. She swung her legs over the edge of their shared bed – her warm feet meeting the cold floor – and walked into her adjacent closet, fishing a fresh pair of panties out of the drawer. Forgoing putting on any more clothes, she went back into the bedroom and picked up the shirt her boyfriend wore yesterday and slipped it on. She tried to open the door as silent as possible, already hearing the faint sounds of a piano, and went to the top step of the staircase. From there the young woman could see her boyfriends bare back as he played the keys with his delicate fingers. Y/N noticed how the muscles of his back, moved with the rhythm he created, absolutely mesmerizing her. She couldn’t believe how such a beautiful man was truly hers and decided to watch him a little longer before making her way downstairs with the softest steps she could possibly muster as to not make him aware of her presence.

Charles Leclerc was up early. He didn’t understand why, as it was his weekend off and he had stayed up late the night before – he should be exhausted. Looking to his left, he saw his girlfriend and smiled at her sleeping form. His heart tugged at it’s strings at how filled it was with love for Y/N. His mind remembering the events of the night before. The look in her eyes gave her own love for him away, as he deeply stared into them while making sweet love to her. Their foreheads stuck together as they exchaged words of affection, some more dirty than others. For a second the young racing driver thought about waking the woman beside him up to take care of his now throbbing member but ultimately decided to not disturb her peaceful slumber. The brunette leaned over and gave his girlfriend a soft kiss on the forehead before he slowly, as careful as possible, sat up in bed and let out a yawn. He started to look for his boxers that should have been left somewhere in the room. When the Monégasque had found them he stood up and tip toed to the piece of clothing, which was laying by the bed post, and put it on. Before Charles left the room, he turned around once more and took one last look at the sleeping woman in their shared bed – half smiling at the sight – and made his way downstairs to work on his music.

Long arms snaked around his torso and a kiss was pressed to his neck. „Good morning, mon amour,“ his girlfriend whispered sweetly in his ear. If he didn’t know what music sounded like, he’d probably say this might have been it – the angelic voice of the woman he loved. Charles body automatically leaned back in her arms and he rested his head on her shoulder. „Morning, mon cœur.“ he smirked at her, squinting his eyes while he looked at her. She kissed his stubbly cheek, her left arm moved to lay over his exposed chest: „Why are you awake already? I’ve missed you.“ The older man shook his head slightly and he was able to smell his girlfriends hair: „Couldn’t sleep anymore I guess.“ Y/N hummed in response. „So you decided to leave me all alone and replaced me with your piano?“ She mumbled in her lovers neck and left a hickey. Charles hissed. „You found me after all, didn’t you? How about you join me?“ He slid to the left and patted the now free space on the bench. The woman behind him grinned and wrapped her fragile fingers around his firm chin, turning his head to look up at her. Their eyes met, completely enamoured with one another. Slowly both started to lean in until their lips finally touched for their first official good morning kiss on this early Sunday morning. The drivers hand moved to lay on her neck, deepening the kiss as both of them let out a sigh. He took it as his opportunity to slip his tongue between his girlfriends parted lips, making out with her some more, until she pushed him back slightly by his chin. „I thought you had asked if I wanted to join you?“ Y/N smirked at Charles and got the biggest smile out in response, showing off his beautiful teeth. „That I did!“ His opposite giggled and gave him on last kiss on the cheek.

She moved away from him and sat on the bench to his right hand side. Turning his head to look at her, he asked her: „Would you like to sing for me?“, knowing she had the most beautiful singing voice in the world (but don’t tell George he said that, he’d fight him for his life trying to defend Lewis). Her head now turned to look at him too: „I’d love that. Can I make a wish.“ Charles heart skipped a beat at her question and he stared at her as if she hung the moon, the sun and all of his stars. „You don’t even have to ask, you know I’d fulfill you all your wishes without a second thought.“ The young womans eyes got teary hearing those words from her lover of two years, knowing he loved her as much as she loved him. „Je vais t’aimer, mon beau.“ Her boyfriends wrinkled as his lips spread out into a smile: „Toi aussi, ma belle.“ „No, idiot, the song from ‚La famille Bélier‘.“ She laughed loudly, infecting the other Monégasque with it’s brightness and who soon joined her, shaking his head. „I knew that of course.“ Smirking, Y/N rolled her eyes, knowing full well he didn’t. Charles eyed her from the side and cleared his throat while cracking his knuckles, before his warm fingers touched the cold piano tiles again to form the opening notes oft he 1976 tune.

À faire pâlir tous les Marquis de Sade (To make all the Marquis de Sade pale)

À faire rougir les putains de la rade (To make the whores blush in the harbor)

À faire crier grâce à tous les échos (To be shouted through all the echoes)

À faire trembler les murs de Jéricho (To shake the walls of Jericho)

Je vais t′aimer (I will love you)

Y/N tried not to look at Charles while singing the all too familiar song but she couldn’t help it. He was just so gorgeous. The way his fingers moved across the tiles amazed her, watching his forearms flex while doing so. A simple yet so effective move, which – in a dangerous mix with the obscene lyrics coming out of her mouth - went straight down to her core.

À faire flamber des enfers dans tes yeux (To make hell blaze in your eyes)

À faire jurer tous les tonnerres de Dieu (To make all the thunders of God swear*)

À faire dresser tes seins et tous les Saints (To have your breasts and all the saints raise)

À faire prier et supplier nos mains, je vais t'aimer (To make us pray and beg our hands I will love you)

His cheeks reddened hearing her sing those lewd words which were meant to be for him only at this very moment. Her hand touched his biceps, moving up and down, and it sent cold shivers down his back straight to his dick. He loved sharing such intimate moments with her, just the two of them – sometimes they watched a movie, other times, like today, they made some music together – but as soon as her long fingers moved across his naked skin, he always knew he was gone for and there was only one way this would end. And she knew it too.

Je vais t′aimer comme on ne t'a jamais aimée (I’m going to love you like you’ve never been before)

Je vais t'aimer plus loin que tes rêves ont imaginé (I’m going to love you further than your dreams have imagined)

Je vais t′aimer, je vais t′aimer (I’m going to love you, I’m going to love you)

Je vais t'aimer comme personne n′a osé t'aimer (I will love you like no one has dared to love you)

Je vais t′aimer comme j'aurai tellement aimé être aimé (I will love you as I would have loved to be loved)

Je vais t′aimer, je vais t'aimer (I’m going to love you, I’m going to love you)

The young woman put her head on her boyfriends shoulder while singing, as she moved the hand – which was wrapped around his biceps – to the veins on his forearm and finally landing on his right thigh. Slowly she caressed the exposed skin, making the bulge in his underwear grow. The air between the two lovers became thicker with sexual tension second by second. Charles just really wanted to hear her sweet voice sing but now he was about to hear even better sounds coming out of her mouth and her teasing showed just how close she was to giving him herself all over again. And he loved every bit of it.

À faire vieillir, à faire blanchir la nuit (To age, to whiten the night)

À faire brûler la lumière jusqu'au jour (Burning the light until the day)

À la passion et jusqu′à la folie (To passion and to the point of madness)

Je vais t′aimer, je vais t'aimer d′amour (I will love you, I will love you with love)

À faire cerner, à faire fermer nos yeux (To be identified, to close our eyes)

À faire souffrir, à faire mourir nos corps (To make us suffer, to kill our bodies)

À faire voler nos âmes aux septièmes cieux (To make our bodies fly into seventh heaven)

À se croire morts et faire l'amour encore, je vais t′aimer (To think you’re dead and make love again, I’m going to love you)

The words sung perfectly described the love they shared for one another. They were each other light in the darkness of this world, especially Y/N for Charles. She was his anchor and saving grace whenever he had a bad race and she was there for him through it all – the ups and downs of racing ever since they had been kids, the deaths of his father and Jules, the travelling, the distance, the winning, the losing and everything in between. Everytime they had sex it felt like the very first time. And everytime they finished it felt like they had died and gone to heaven. He was excited to feel this way again and he knew she felt the same way. Their passion for one another almost exceeding the point of madness where they couldn’t go long without seeing, touching and talking to each other and not turning crazy about it. Charles and Y/N burned for each other- their love a blazing flame that never seemed to die – they were the bane of each others existence and the objects of all their desires and wildest dreams. For the last chorus the young woman let all of those feelings out and every word was meant only for her Monégasque lovers ears – the one man she ever wanted to spend her forever and beyond with.

Je vais t'aimer comme on ne t′a jamais aimée (I’m going to love you like you’ve never been loved)

Je vais t'aimer plus loin que tes rêves ont imaginé (I’m going to love you further than your dreams have imagined)

Je vais t'aimer, je vais t′aimer (I’m going to love you, I’m going to love you)

Je vais t′aimer comme personne n'a osé t′aimer (I will love you like no one has dared to love you)

Je vais t'aimer comme j′aurai tellement aimé être aimé (I will love you as I would have loved to be loved)

Je vais t'aimer, je vais t′aimer (I’m going to love you, I’m going to love you)

Charles fingers lingered on the piano, finishing the final note. They stayed silent for a little longer, letting the past few minutes catch up to them, the only sound being heard were their breaths that were in sync with each other – mirroring the rapid beating of their hearts. The woman moved her right hand from her boyfriends thigh and placed it upon his chest. „I love you, mon amour, thank you for letting me share this moment with you,“ she whispered in his ear and left a kiss right below it. The racing driver next to her turned slightly and put his hand on her cheek, his thumb caressing the warm skin. „Anytime again, ma belle.“ His dimples showed due to the soft smile that made it’s way to his face. And also his girlfriend couldn’t help but reach out for him, letting her hand linger on the side of his neck. The two of them knew what was about to happen, so Charles put his arm around Y/Ns waist, pulling her even closer (if that was possible) and their lips radiated towards each other, as if they were two magnets, finally reuniting in a breathtaking kiss.

When they broke apart, Y/N took the initiative and took her sweet time kissing down his body, leaving a few hickeys on the way – from his cheek, to his neck and his abs, until she ended up on her knees in front of the piano, facing Charles‘ crotch. Looking down on his girlfriend, he moaned her name: „Touches moi, s’il te plaît…“ Smirking at that, Y/N let her hands glid up his thigh. „Of course, baby boy, let me take care of you.“ Slowly she caressed his bulge while maintaining eye contact before dropping her head to leave some more kisses on his thighs. Then she moved her hand into his shorts and boxers to free his semi-hard dick. Charles shuddered when her cold fingers touched his warm dick and he bit his lip to keep in the moan he so badly wanted to let out. „Don’t hold back, baby, I wanna hear you. Show me how good I can make you feel.“ The girl encouraged him while stroking his hardening length. „Mon dieu…“, Charles whispered under his breath and threw his head back. At that she smirked and stuck out her tongue in order to lick a long stripe up the underside of her boyfriends dick, sucking on his tip where she left another kiss. The brunette driver locked eyes with his girlfriend who just swallowed his precum and continued to watch her as her mouth wrapped around his length again and went further and further to take him in fully. „Oh.“ His moan spurred her on and she started bobbing her head up and down, as her hand went to massage his balls. Charles so desperately wanted to keep focused on the woman in front of him but he ultimately lost control and fisted his hand in her hair, in order to form a makeshift ponytail and started pushing her head down on his dick harder. „Chérie - I’m gonna…“ His breathy voice got cut off by a groan he couldn’t hold back. As if his girlfriend could sense it, she had moaned on his dick and stroked his thick thighs, silently telling him to come in her mouth. A few seconds later Y/N heard Charles let out an especially loud moan and felt his sweet cum shoot down her throat. The young woman released his dick from her luscious lips with a loud „popp“ and opened her mouth to show Charles that she had swallowed it all. With hazy eyes he smirked down at his girlfriend and wrapped his hand around her chin, his thumb lightly stroking her cheek. „Good girl.“ He leaned down to leave a kiss on her forehead, then helped her stand on her two feet again. „Let me return the favor, amour.“

Charles stood up and deeply stared into his girlfriends eyes while slowly taking steps forward, backing her up into the piano. „Cha…“ Y/Ns voice was desperate and she closed her eyes as he reached out his hands. She waited for his touch, which never came. He closed the lid of the piano, then returned his attention to the smaller woman, his eyes so full of lust for her. His head bent down and he feverishly kissed her which she easily returned, their tongues exploring each others mouths, as if it was the first time they made out. The racing driver put his hands on her butt and softly kneaded the skin there, before leaving a slap on her right ass cheek, making her gasp loudly. „Jump.“ He said with his signature wink. Y/N did as she was told and wrapped her legs around his torso, as he sat her on top of the piano. „You look so good in my shirt. Much better than I ever did, ma jolie.“ His girlfriend giggled and his hands glid along her curves taking them all in. Charles kneeled down until his eyes were lined up with her ankles. He left the lightest kisses up her legs, alternating between the left and right one, while moving his hands up their sides. When his eyes were on the same level as her core he pulled her crotch closer to his face by her hips. „Ahh!“ A squeal left the girls lips as Charles took her by suprise. The latter laughed slighty. „Excuse-moi, Chérie.“ All was forgotten though when he kissed her cunt through her panties before he pulled them down. The excitement rose in his chest and he licked his lips, whereas his girlfriend felt a certain anticipation, wating for him to continue. Moving his face closer to her already dripping core he left a longing kiss on her clit, as his right hand came up to assist him – one of his fingers went in between her folds collecting her juices. „So wet for me already, bébé.“ He then wrapped his lips around his own finger, tasting her. „And so sweet.“ Y/N was in a state of pure bliss already, humming approvingly. „All for you, ma vie.“ Charles nodded. „Yes, all mine.“ The Monégasque started sucking on her clit again, acting as if his life essence is made up of the sweet sounds that escaped her throat. One of his fingers finally entered her, moving in and out in a steady rhythm that coordinated with the way his tongue moved along her clit. It felt as though she was his instrument: His fingers moved delicately inside of her, playing out a tune of moans mixing with the breathy calles of her name, truly showing his artistic skills aside from the piano. Two of his fingers were inside of her now, preparing the young woman for later, as he alternated between scissoring her hole and stroking her g-spot.

As Y/N felt her orgasm approach, her hands flew to her boyfriends fluffy hair, pulling on the loose curls. „Charlie, ne t’arrête pas!“ She moaned, feeling the tight knot in her lower stomach starting to loosen up. Spurred on by the soft massaging of her hands he moaned onto her clit. That was the last note missing in their steamy melody pulling the girl over the edge as she came with a loud scream of his name, squirting her juices into his mouth. He lapped at her lower lips, trying to collect all the juices he could get, before rising from his kneeling position. Her uneven breaths started to calm down again as she noticed the state of his chin through half-lidded eyes and let out a shaky laugh. „I’m so sorry, mon Chéri.“ Charles slightly leaned over her, moving his hand to her back, as he wrapped her right leg around his waist to pick her up and get her into a standing position in between him and the piano again. „No need to be sorry, mon ange. I enjoyed every second of it.“ At the second sentence his voice lowered an octave, accentuating every word into her ear. He nibbled on her earlobe moving down her neck, leaving a small hickey there. „Should we move this to the sofa for the big climax of our wonderful duet?“ He asked into her neck, knowing the couch was closer. „Yes, please.“ She breathed out, her head still thrown to the side, letting Charles have his access to her skin.

He took her hand in his and lead her to the other part of their living room. There, she regained some control when he turned around in order to kiss her, and she put her hand on his chest instead, pushing him back into the soft pillows. Charles smirked as he was under her spell once more. He patted his thighs and his girlfriend smiled, placing herself in her favorite seat, facing him. Once more the two lovers found themselves lost in each others eyes, before slowly leaning in, their lips meeting in a loving kiss, much softer than the ones before. Y/N moved her hands along his abs once more, moving over his bare chest to his toned shoulders. His own hands found their way to her wast, moving towards the hem of her – no, his – shirt, slowly lifting it above her head and throwing it somewhere behind him. The sudden cold air made her nipples harden, sending a shiver down her back. Charles smiled up at her – taking in all of her naked glory – and licked his lips in anticipation. His right hand moved to her breast, his lips latched around the other. „Ohh, Char…“ The young woman moaned and watched him suck on her tits. The fingers of his right hand fumbled with the small bud before he went to switch sides. Wanting to feel more of him, Y/N rubbed her body along his legs. Smirking, he removed himself from her boobs. „So impatient, ma jolie.“ His girlfriend laughed. „I mean, can you blame me? Everything about you turns me on immensly. Mon dieu, je t’aime tellement.“ The heat of her bare core meeting the cold skin of his thigh – he had already forgotten that her panties still layed somewhere by his piano – reminding him about the truthfulness of her statement. „Je t’aime aussi, mon cœur.“ The two stared lovingly at each other once more before the woman moved her hands down to the waistband of her boyfriends boxers – the only article of clothing left to separate their most intimate parts – and she couldn’t stand his advantage at all. „Take them off, baby.“ He smirked and tapped his hands on his girlfriends waist to signal her that she would have to get off him first. Y/N lifted her butt so that he could pull the garment down, letting them hang by his knees.

With his underwear out of the way, the woman above him slowly sunk down on his dick, stabilizing herself by putting her hands on his shoulders. At the feeling of Charles length entering her wet hole, they both let out long moans. „Putain!“ Y/N placed one of her hands on his cheek, making him look into her eyes – then she started to move. Slowly she lifted herself off him and sunk back down. The two lovers found a steady rhythm, their bodies creating a sweet melody once more. Charles hands wandered to his girlfriends ass, leaving a slap there before he kneaded the soft skin, soothing it in the process. His love let out a yelp and started to bounce on top of him faster. Her hands now rested on his waist, as she let her head fall to his neck, making her body lean on his. The new angle made both of them feel the movements more intensly – their breathy moans and husky groans filling the already sinful aria of skin slapping on skin to it’s full extent. „Chérie…“ the driver moaned into her ear, kissing his girlfriends shoulder. „Regarde-moi.“ Y/N lifted her head look at her boyfriend, who moved on of his hands to the back of her head, pulling her closer and locking their lips in a desperate and messy kiss. As they pulled away for air, both could feel their orgasms approaching. With his hand, Charles kept the woman close to him, the sweat on their foreheads mixing. „I’m so close.“ She deeply stared into his eyes, nodding frantically. „Moi aussi, Char.“ Then he steard to trust his hips up into hers, supporting her sloppier movements. Suddenly all the different components became too much for her to handle – from his hands on her body, his dick filling her wet core, to their erratic breaths conjoining in lazy, open-mouthed kisses - her body overstimulating as it reached it’s climax. The relieving wave washed over her and she came with a loud, high-pitched scream of her boyfriends name. Her walls clenched around his dick, sending Charles over the edge too, who let out a deep growl followed by a hitched cry of her nickname. The driver still held her body close as she collapsed on top of him and he started stroking her back in order to calm her down.

It felt like minutes before either of them moved again – the Monégasque just enjoying the feeling of her naked breasts on his skin, his partner listening to the sound of his beating heart. Charles even thought about taking her again, but that’s a thing that could wait until later. Right now, all he wanted to do was staying right here with her in his arms. But his girlfriend had other plans, as she was the first to sit up again. At the feeling of Charles dick still inside her both let out a groan, before laughing. „Merde, I almost forgot about that.“ Y/Ns hands caressed his cheeks as she dipped her head to leave a short but sweet kiss on his lips before she tried to lift herself off his length. She hissed at the feeling of the cold air of the living room hitting her warm entrance and noticed the way Charles cum dripped out of her hole. „Mmh, I love seeing that.“ The man in question stood up and pulled up his boxers before he stepped closer to his still very naked girlfriend again and held her close. „Can’t wait for when you don’t take the pill anymore. Gonna fill you up all nicely until you’re pregnant with our child, mon amour.“ He whispered seductively in her ear. The woman tried hard to keep her composure at his words, but the goosebumps on her skin gave her away. She wanted to have a child with him, as much as he wanted it, but only after they had gotten married. Leaving a last kiss on his lips before going off to search the shirt she was wearing earlier, she switched the topic while looking around the room with Charles following her around. „I’m starving, how about breakfast?“ Y/N smiled softly at Charles before putting on the piece of clothing, having found it laying behind the couch. „Oh yeah, let me help!“ The driver beamed as his girlfriend passed by the piano, picking up her panties, turning around afterwards to face her boyfriend – laughing at him. „Surely, ma vie, I’ll let you cut some veggies but that’s it, idiot.“ Charles jokingly rolled his eyes. „I’ll do anything, as long as it’s with you.“ She blushed at his words, softly hitting his chest with a wink. „Sweet.“ The two of them pulled back the curtains and opened the windows on the first floor of the apartment in order to let some fresh air in, before going to the kitchen to fix their brunch.

The two lovers spent the rest of their day cuddling on the couch, watching some movies and just enjoying each others company before ordering some takeout in the evening.

disclaimer: all work posted on here with this disclaimer was written by me. i do not consent this work to be published or translated on other sites than my own (@pastryleclerc on tumblr or wattpad). picture credits to their rightful owners

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planete777 · 9 months

Text

WHAT YOU HEARD・⁠｡♪ LN4

( lando norris x fem!reader )

IN WHICH. y/n senselessly drags lando for a swim at midnight, high and all. she just forgets to mention they'll do it naked.

WARNINGS. 16+, smoking and getting high (don't do drugs yall, this is just for entertainment purposes!), make outs, night skinny dipping, mentions of sexual activities, once again high hotness

NOTE. back again with the high!lando agenda. something about it just gets my brain all scrambled. anyways, as i said, don't do drugs, listen to 'what you heard' by sonder, and enjoy luvs <3 (wondering if i should make this a series.....)

SIDENOTE. my askbox is open! feel free to send in any thoughts, scenarios, requests etc about high!lando, or other tropes if u want. 🤍

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even when he can't piece two cents of his thoughts to construct a legible sequence, lando is sure that, no matter the state he's in, y/n can persuade him to do whatever, as if her words were a siren's call. in his mind, she has this way of curling her tongue around every sentence she says, as if they're something so sweet, so good, and it beckons him closer, pathetically. yet, lando indulges in it like a fucking mad man, and every time he has to leave y/n, he finds himself itching for everything she makes him feel.

but, right here, right now, he'd rather lose himself in the swirling puffs of smoke that have him feeling he's levitating with it. sprawled on the girl's couch, legs and arms weightless and completely non existent, in a room that's so unsuspecting to delinquent dallying.

that's what makes him love her even more.

they're the same. from the wisp of their hairs to the tip of their toes, they both crave an escape from everything and everyone, and don't care how they get it. live a dual life of forced smiles to the world and adrenaline rushes from a drug that drains every feeling possible from their flesh, but could tip their lives on their heads without warning.

it's like their own little secret, and knows that if he were to tell anyone, they'd instantaneously talk him out of it. beg him that he could get hooked and spiral, yet he'll be damned if he allows himself to lose the only sanity he has with the girl that he's addicted to.

the breeze whispers on his skin, soothes it somewhat as the forecast had been cooler the whole day, and the spliff between his fingers remains an inch-long bud, incinerated away in mere hours. his eyes are ajar, just the tiniest bit, and remain trained on the open back sliding doors. watches as ripples glimmer and twinkle beneath the moon's shine upon the pool's surface and his mind undulates with the tentative viscosity of thick honey.

speakers drone whatever playlist y/n has chosen for the night, and he finds himself subconsciously tapping his fingers to the beat. nothing else but music needs to fill the room, each other's presence speaks for itself, and lando loves this unspoken normality between them.

he's on the brink of unconsciouness, rocking between the borders of sleep and awareness, but he's slowly justled awake as y/n walks up to him.

she gently grabs his arm, pulling him upright, "come."

his movements are slow and hesitant, "where we going?"

"swimming."

for a second his mind agrees, so he relents, but realising that he's wearing a tank top with jogging bottoms, and y/n the same but with leggings instead, he grows confused again.

he doesn't get time to question, mind too slow and sticky to even get further words out, as y/n lets go of his hand and turns to him.

then with speed that aches with tease, she tugs her top off, flinging it off to the side and lando stops breathing. he sees everything, how they curve and smooth back into the inward slope of her waist and he trembles so much that he has to clench his fist to urge it away. she's so beautiful drenched in blue, easing its way down her legs as she shrugs them off, and lando's eyes burn as they weld into every dip of her body.

"join me."

that's all she says, with that pretty smile on her face, before she swivels on her feet and dives into the water with much precision she barely marks a discrepancy upon the surface of the water. lando is hypnotised, barely moves from his place as she watches her glide and twirl in the water as if that's where she's meant to be, and then his body cries to join her.

it doesn't take long for him to hover next to y/n, right in the centre of the pool. the cool water washes some highness away, but they're both inebriated enough to retain the red glaze in their eyes and slow movements. lando's sick, seeing y/n so etheral in nothing, looking at him as if she wants him flowing through his veins, and he no longer fights the impulse to get closer and gather her in his arms. she smiles, wide and white, circling her arms around his neck before jumping on his waist. he fumbles slightly, with a huffed out laugh, then her thighs are tight around his hips and he can feel everything.

"you're hard already?" she asked, amused. her hand plays with the curls on his neck and he feels like he's dissolving.

"do you blame me? look at you."

"well," her finger traces his chest, light and completely burning, "we're not fucking in my pool."

he chuckles, figures cum is a hard thing to clean out of water, "at least let me eat you out?"

she pretends to think, "maybe later, but right now, i want you to fucking kiss me."

lando doesn't waste time doing so, lips pushing into hers with great urgency as if it's his last kiss on earth. y/n's mouth is wet, warm, sweet and so inherently y/n that lando moans, deep and loud, sliding his tongue deeper. it's not enough, not the kiss, nor the way her body radiates immense heat directly into his, and lando craves to be one with her. absorb into y/n, like a water to a sponge, and remain there forever.

air runs out, way too quickly for lando's liking, and y/n moves her head back, half closed eyes staring back at him. he's hot, bothered, hungry for so much more, and squeezes the flesh of her thighs to suppress just how much his flesh aches for her.

"i want to have you so bad," y/n sighs out, a splayed hand flush against lando's chest, and oh does he want her to completely take him. do whatever she wants, however she wants. he craves to say so much but his mind can only come up with so little.

"then fucking have me, y/n."

#lando norris #lando norris romance #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris fic #f1 fic #f1 smut #formula one x you #formula one x reader #formula one #formula one x y/n #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fanfic

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outerrimhours · 1 year

Text

Kinktober Day 31

Kinktober Day 31 : Phone sex with Ghostface

Title: Before the Devil

Pairing - Ghostface X Female!Reader

Prompt - Phone Sex

Word Count - 3,798

Warnings - NSFW 18+ (18+ minors DNI), everyone in this fic is 18+, murder, stalking, blood play, phone sex, dirty talk, dub con, threats, toxic interaction, pure digusting halloween filth.

AN/ Posting this a day early, because I haven't posted in weeks. This was my big finale. Transcribed from a wonderful NSFW audio on Pornhub btw, by HarpyVT. All of the unfinished Kinktober days will be posted in November. Thank you all for celebrating this holiday with me.

Song - Psycho Killer by Talking Heads

You flipped through the static channels of the radio, voices hastily peaking through until you heard the newscasters voice.

“The police have yet to apprehend the armed suspect, and advise that you take extra caution when locking up at night. The victims suffered multiple stab wounds and lacerations, but the survivors all said the same thing; they received a call from an unknown number moments prior to their attack. Local authorities have increased the amount of service operators available to respond to emergency calls and ask that you report any suspicious phone activity.”

You flipped to another channel, soft music swimming through your cerebral cortex like a wakeful dream. The home had a warm feeling, inviting, and you couldn’t help but enjoy the way your heels clicked against the wood as you walked to the bathroom. You wanted to freshen up before he arrived.

Undressing felt nice, dress hitting the floor quickly, before allowing the faucet to run. The warmth of the water enticing all of your senses. You allowed your eyes to close briefly before your cell phone rang against the countertop. It was vexatious, the sound, but whoever was on the other line could wait. Probably just the pizza boy.

And then it rang again.

Frustrated at the disturbance, you pulled yourself from the warmth to step out of the shower, pressing the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”, the voice asked, but you promptly hung up, not recognizing the intonation.

As you wrapped the cotton towel around your soaking barness, you innocently assumed that would be the last interaction. Wrong number, obviously.

And then it rang once more.

“Can I help you?”, you nervously demanded.

“That was pretty rude”, the gravelly voice replied, “Look, I know you’re probably panicking, don’t worry…”

You were undoubtedly apprehensive, squeezing the towel tighter to your chest.

“As long as you listen to me, you’ll get out of this alive”.

You knew in that moment what you were truly facing, the masked voice, the devil on the newscast. Your legs felt unstable, heart bashing against the confines of its cage in panic.

“Let’s play a little game”, he said in response to your silence, “This game only has three rules. That’s simple enough right?

You could almost hear the smirk in his voice, the way he licked his lips in anticipation. It was as if he were standing right behind you.

“Rule number one, you don’t hang up. Rule number two, you answer any of my questions honestly, and rule number three..you follow my instructions.”

When the voice on the other end didn’t receive a response, he added,

“Do you understand?”

Your throat felt dry, forcing down the lump in your throat to whisper a frightened “Yes”.

“Good”, he said, “Now, is there anyone other than the poor pizza boy coming over tonight?”

“No”, you lied, briefly sitting the phone against the marble to quickly dress.

“No? Good.”

Your hands were shaking, tears daring to spill down your cheeks as you opened the door. Bare feet pattering until you reached the entryway. The door was ajar, allowing the chill of the night to creep in and wrap itself around your bones.

You dared to peek through the crack, bile curtailing and rising to meet your esophagus. The innocent life depleted on the concrete, slumped against the stairs in a pool of coagulating blood.

You gasped, choking down a sob.

“Hey”, the voice soothed, “I can tell you’re scared. There’s nothing to be afraid of…” he paused, the tone almost reassuring, “As long as you follow the rules. Now I want you to reach into his pocket and take out his phone”.

“Why did you kill him”, you wailed, unable to tear your eyes away from the blue staring back.

“Why’d I kill him? Well..you see..he saw me out of the corner of his eye when he rang the doorbell. Do you understand now? He was so focused on saving himself, he wasn’t going to tell you a stranger was stalking nearby. He was heartless. So, I borrowed your pizza cutter, and fixed that little problem.”

The stranger scoffed on the other end, almost in disbelief you would question him.

“You should be thanking me. I’m not planning to do that sort of thing to you..after all.., I’m not an animal. I washed the pizza cutter already. It’s by the sink. Now open up his phone.”

The crystal glass was splattered with the remnants of the boy, staining your skin when you reached for it.

“It’s locked”, you said, looking away before the lunch you had earlier in the day made its way up your throat.

“Use his finger silly”, the voice laughed playfully, oblivious almost to the true nature of this reality before turning darker once more.

“Dial the number he last called and tell them everything is fine. He just drank too much on the job and saw things. Tell them you're his friend! And DON’T even think about asking for help…I am always right behind you after all.”

You hesitated. Could you call the police? You considered.

“I’m waiting”, the voice muttered impatiently.

So you dialed.

“Good girl.”

Your voice shook at the lies you were telling. An innocent life beneath your feet.

“See”, he chirped, “That wasn’t so hard was it? You’re off to a great start! Now.., go back to the kitchen and pour yourself a glass of wine.”

“Okay..”, you swallowed.

“I..don’t like how nervous you sound. I wanted to have a little fun, that's all. You’re making me look like the bad guy here. I never planned to do anything bad to you. I promise. You’re just oh so pretty...”, the voice mused.

The silence was deafening, even as he spoke, the sound of your footsteps against the hardwood. To the left of the sink was the wine cabinet, so many choices, grabbing for one with shaky hands.

“Soo”, he continued, voice gruff and grainy through the phone, “grab a glass and just relax.”

If you were to die, at least you would be tipsy off the good stuff, pouring an eerily color of burgundy into the glass.

“Good girl”, the voice beamed, “Now, say your name.”

The wine was bitter, tartness soaking into the buds of your tongue, and you almost choked on its fruitfulness at the question.

“Why?”

“Why? Because, I want to hear you say it, that’s all”, he mused innocently, just to add

“And.., because I want to know who I’m looking at.”

“How”, you stuttered, apprehensively looking in every direction.

“You were very meticulous in setting up those security cameras, you even set one on the fridge. What were you hoping to catch? Someone raiding the fridge”, he laughed, “So tell me..”, he whispered, voice growing darker, “what’s your name?”

So you did, the word feeling so personal all of a sudden, as if the stranger was taking the most important thing about you.

“I like it. It suits you.”

“Alright, what’s yours”, you asked, the wine in your bloodstream making you bolder.

“Ghostface”, the stranger joked, “do you like my name too”, his boyish laugh tickling your ears. It was almost unsettling how innocent he sounded. It wasn’t what you expected a homicidal maniac to sound like.

“How sweet”, he whispered, the t clicking off his tongue in the most seductive way. The way he allowed his tone to change so quickly was so..ominous.

“Now”, he growled, “about that security camera, I have a better..idea of where to put it. Take it off the wall, and..bring it to the bedroom. We’re gonna continue our little game there.”

You gripped the countertop, knuckles whitening at the force, before chugging back the wine. You were apprehensive, angry.

“Hello”, he yelled, enraged, “I’m watching you! You’re being so difficult about this. I’m your guest aren’t I? So, where’s your sense of hospitality?”

You regretted his anger, fearful of the consequences.

“Are you in there”, you whispered, eyes closing, fearful of the answer.

“No,” he teased, “I’m not in the bedroom. I’m close, I’m..close, that’s all you have to know. I’m close enough to end the game, if you don’t play”, he whispered, almost aroused at the idea of your disobedience. Your death.

So you listened, gliding up the stairs to the door on the right.

It was dark, say for the street lights peering through. You half expected for your attacker to lunge.

“Now, set it up”.

You placed the camera on the dresser, perfectly angled toward the bed.

“What do you want with me?”

An annoyed laugh scoffed on the other end, “I told you already, it’s just a little game.”

“Now, sit on the bed, and take your clothes off….Slowly,” he whispered, “face the camera while you do it, I want to see everything.”

The wine had gone to your head, being drunk was a fool’s anesthetic, putting the primitive self in command, when it is the worst captain of all. Were you really wet at the idea of him watching as your straps slipped over the smooth skin of your shoulders, the way the fabric slipped down your body and to the floor, exposing the lingerie underneath? Meshed greens and speckled golds adorning the fabric.

There it was again, the boyish laughter so perfectly encapsulated in the phone, goosebumps forming along your flesh at the sound.

You could almost see his smile, “I like what you’re wearing underneath”, he teased, “It’s rather extravagant isn’t it? Are you sure you didn’t make plans with somebody tonight? Or…do you just like wearing that sort of thing underneath?”

He giggled.

“I knew I picked somebody fun”, he replied, when your answer was no. “I’m so glad you decided to play. Now take it off. OFF,” he demanded.

“There’s no one here but you and me right? Now look at us, so well acquainted already right? Don’t worry, I’m taking everything off too. Maybe if you're good, I'll even show you. I bet you're wondering what the man behind the voice looks like.”

You unclasped the bra, allowing the fabric holding the swell of your breasts to fall, nipples already hardening at the exposed chill. You swore you could hear him gasp, so quiet, almost unnoticeable, and when you pulled the band of your panties down over your hips, he sounded almost breathless,

“Good girl.”

“You’re very good at this game”, he whispered, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you were aroused out of fear..or the way he praised you when you listened.

“It’s almost like you’ve..played it before. You know what I want now.., don’t you?

When he whispered, it was as if he were there right behind you, every letter perfectly pronounced on his tongue.

“Look straight into the camera, and spread your legs”, he was so breathy, as if he had to restrain himself as he watched you, every t sitting perfectly on his tongue.

You were sticky and oozing when your fingers met the entrance of your cunt, he stopped you.

“Ah ah, don’t touch yourself there quite yet, aren’t you an eager one. I want you to show off your body, take your hands..”, he breathed, “slid them down over your neck, to your hips, show me that beautiful figure…, I know you can do it, with what you were wearing underneath, I know you’re a little..freak? I know you know how to have a good time. Allllll by yourself. So show me..”

Your eyes fluttered at the feeling of your hands, so lightly, almost like a feather ghosting over the curves and dips of your body, you hated to admit you loved the way his voice sounded, the way it changed as he watched you. His exasperated sighs, the sensual articulation, the boyish desire.

“I want to watch everything, I want to watch you”, he sounded so whiney in the most magnetic way. Sometimes you almost forgot he had blood on his hands, until his voice grew darker and reminded you what he was capable of. He could so easily switch to the darkness.

“That’s right, put on a show for me. Like your life depends on it. I wanna see you shiver while you do it. Because you’re afraid, or because you’re aroused. I don’t care. Both do it for me. And you’re gonna cum for me, whether you like it, or not.”

You swallowed harshly, unable to look in the camera as you touched yourself. The threat almost sobering you.

“Spread your legs a little bit more”, and so you did, allowing the camera a perfect angle of your soaked cunt. “Just like that, I’m getting so hard for you. You’re doing so well, you’re playing so well. Now..underneath the bed, I have a little present for you.”

You adjusted hesitantly, reaching underneath to find the object of his reference.

“Wait..”, you whispered, holding the container in your hand with aversion.

“Yeah, it’s what you think it is. It’s blood.” His voice was shaky with arousal, “Take it in your hands and touch yourself again.”

The metallic smell was sobering, sickening. You hesitated.

“Why are you hesitating?”He scolded.

“Who’s is it”, you questioned.

“Who’s? Does it matter? Will you stop playing the game if I tell you? Will you end the game if I tell you?” The frustrated tone in his voice lowering back to a whisper, the wet squelch of his cock between his hand filling your ear. It almost made you forget the way he lashed out.

He breathed out, voice shaky, at the site of you obeying. The cold, sap like liquid trailing over every crevice of your body, painted by your fingertips.

“Good girl,” he praised, holding back soft gasps.

“Touch..every single inch of yourself for me. Pay attention to every part of your body, all the grooves that no one else pays attention to. I want to see it, I want to pay attention to it, all the little secrets that you keep.”

The stranger was so aroused, his throaty, mellifluous gasps allowing your own arousal to seep through. You loved hearing his little gasps.

“Show me what makes you grip the sheets, show me what makes you throw your head back in pleasure”, soft moans peaking through with every sentence, “ And I will watch..every..single..moment of it. Every streak you paint on yourself is like a confession, because you may act afraid…you may act…like you don’t like this…but what you really really don’t want is to admit it. You don’t want to admit that you’re giving in. You don't want to admit that you’re enjoying yourself. You don’t want to admit that you wanted this. You want to keep all these secrets, hidden from yourself, but look, look at you painting your whole body red. Look how good you look in red, all these streaks adorning you like a goddess. Touch yourself like nobody ever has. I want you to squeeze your breasts, touch your nipples the way you want to, not the way anyone else wants you to. The way you wanted. The way only you know it.”

And so you did. Cupping and squeezing the flesh, allowing the sharp squeeze of your nipples to make your back arch.

“Slide your hands down your thighs the way you want to. And drag your fingers down your waist to touch your inner thighs, tighten your legs as you brush over that sensitive spot, dig your nails into your skin, and mark yourself up. Arch your back as you make your way back to your neck..and wrap your fingers around it and choke yourself, like I wish I could. Push so hard that the blood stains your skin.”

You gasped softly at the feeling allowing you to cut your airflow shortly.

“Do it so hard it hurts”, the voice softly cried.

“Remember, I said I wanted you to cover every single inch. And don't forget anything and don't worry I’m not judging you. I'd never judge you. Whether you choose to have a taste, rub it on your lips. I’m not judging you. In fact, I'm right there with you. I'm enjoying everything with you. Beautiful. You are absolutely stunning, darling. God, I can't hold back any longer. Now rub your little clit, and make sure you keep your face in the camera. Lose yourself, make those beautiful, agonizing moans, for me.”

The praise, the way the boy made you feel so important. How fucked up could you truly be? By the time your fingers reached the perfect little bundle of nerves, you were so sensitive, biting your lip and savoring the metallic liquid stained over the skin. Your back arched at the feeling, cunt glistening even in the moonlight.

“Oh!” He moaned softly, “Just like that.” His little hushed moans and gasps as the spit surely coating his cock, squelched, causing your own soft sighs to escape. You loved how innocent he sounded in his own pleasure.

His imperceptible cries and whines at the pump of his cock, losing himself in the way you touched yourself to his voice.

“You are such a good girl, aren't you? Agh..”, he cried, “You look so pretty in red. Oh.., agh”, You too wanted to cry out in pleasure at the sounds he made. So innocent, boyish little whimpers.

“Fuck”, the voice on the phone cracking, grunts and cries of pleasure filling every sense as you played with yourself. Eyes closed, picturing the way he would look next to you.

“Mmm, fuck, agh.” He roughly swallowed, losing his breath as his hand sped up, and you whimpered at the sound.

“Put your whole pussy on display for me. Get fucking closer, get closer to the camera and show off. Come on, show me, show me, show me. Oh!”, He begged.

You loved it. You had never been so wet for anyone, and all you had was his voice. Every cry, whimper, moan, and gasp that left his pretty lips sending you closer to the edge. The dominance he exuded extinguishing with every little sound he made. You felt so proud. You wanted to know how he would look underneath you, eyes big and wide, looking up at you like you were the prettiest thing he had ever seen.

Fuck.

Your fingers entered, cunt clenching at the fullness, although you knew it wasn’t enough. Surely you would feel even more full with him inside of you.

You loved the way his voice cracked, higher pitched with every curse he cried. He sounded so pretty.

“My little devil, aren't you?” He whispered, “ You little devil. Oh f-..keep looking at the camera. Keep looking. Mphm, I can’t get off unless I’m looking at your pretty face. Did you know that? It’s all part of the game. I have to look at you. I have to watch you. I have to see you.”

You grew impossibly wetter with every confession. Finger curving with every pump.

“Look at yourself in the mirror too. Oh, watch yourself. Watch yourself fucking touching yourself for me.”

His pumps slowed with every groan, “Do you hear that? Do you hear how hard I am for you?”

You moaned, gasping for breath as you watched the way your fingers disappeared inside of your pussy. The pornographic sound of his cock thrusting in his hand.

“Agh, how much my fucking cock is leaking for you. Only a pretty, dirty, naughty girl can do this for me. Only someone like you can get me this hard. Oh, and look how wet you are.”

With every word his voice grew quieter, desperate.

“Come on”, he whispered, “take all of that and rub it on your thighs. Taste it, taste yourself.”

You loved the way your arousal tasted on your tongue, so salty and pure.

“I did this all for you. I did all of this for you. Aren’t you grateful I picked you?

“Yes,” you cried, circling your clit faster at the moans leaving his lips. He sounded so close. Coming so undone.

“Of fuck. I’m so fucking wet”, he cried, gasping for breaths. His heavenly whimpers, voice cracking with every moan.

“Keep moaning for me. I want to hear you, I want to hear you, I want to hear you so badly, I want to hear your screams, your moans, your whimpers, your cries, every single sound your body makes”, he begged.

The thrusts of his cock grew sloppier as his boyish little cries rang out.

“Look at you, so pretty, so fucking pretty, so fucking pretty. Can you hear that? This precum in my hands. Don't I sound so aroused? All for you. Only for you!”

Every cry and whimper and moan, it was truly all for you, and you did feel so grateful.

You were both so close.

His gravelly voice as he thrusted in and out of his hand, it made you cry in pleasure.

“Spread your fucking pussy lips for”, He slurred. You obeyed, allowing a growel to slip through his lips.

“Let me see inside. Fuck, rub your little clit, rub it with your bloody, guilty little fingers. Confess to me, confess to me what a bad girl you are. Oh!”

“There you are”, you praised at his sloppy, forceful thrusts. His wildly high pitched moans. You bet he looked so pretty, lips parted, eyes so big and wide.

He was gonna cum, you could tell by the frequency of his moans and perfect grunts. His whimper higher pitched than ever. You moaned wildly at the little boyish sounds he made. So perfect in every way, only for your ears.

“Im gonna cum” he cried, “Cum with me.” His voice grew more forceful, the innocent whimpers turning into the man you knew earlier, the aggression as he spoke, no longer a beg, more so a demand. “Cum with me!”

Only for the moans to continue, you allowed your release to wash over you at the sounds he made. Cum pooling and dripping from your cunt as your heart raced wildly. It was so blindingly perfect, you almost forgot where you were, the situation you were in. Until that same, maniacal laughter rang through. Oh how easily he could switch.

“That..that was a very good game darling. Good job. Good job. Thank you for playing with me”, he laughed, catching his own breath.

“And a word of advice”, he sighed, you could almost hear the resentment as he rolled his eyes, “You didn’t forget did you? That you broke one of the rules. You lied. You said that nobody else was coming by tonight. You forgot to tell me. You forgot to tell me not to kill him. Now, time to run little rabbit. Afterall, this isn't your house is it? Do you remember now?”

The last thing you heard before the dial tone from him hanging up.

Taglist: @samspenandsword @acatalystrising @sharpbarnacle @kraytclaw @adikas-world @the-good-shittt

#jedimastersovikinktober #kinktober 2022 #ghostface #ghostface smut #halloween #slasher smut #psycho killer

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cursedconstellation · 6 months

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I just had the absolutely diabolical thought-

After Cas died the last time, Dean just shut down. He wouldn't let Sam speak of him, he wouldn't let himself think of him, if he saw a man in a familiar trenchcoat, he'd just turn away. Any of Cas' belongings made it to an old shoe-box, stashed away so well it could only gather dust, intentionally forgotten. As far as Dean Winchester was concerned, Cas might have not existed at all.

Sam, of course, wouldn't leave it alone. Every once in a while he'd mention the angel fleetingly, only to be ignored. He tried being forward, cornering Dean and begging him to at least acknowledge a part of their life was missing. He tried being careful and gentle in his approach, trying to spot a hint of vulnerability in Dean, that momentary, blink-and-you-miss-it look in his eye when he'd hear his name. He tried to be casual, off-handedly say something to catch him off guard.

"Oh, I think this was Cas' favourite mug," off to the shoebox it went.

"Cas really liked this song," and coincidentally, he'd never hear it again.

"Cas would've loved that," and whatever 'that' was would never be mentioned again.

No matter what he said, as soon as Cas' name was uttered, Dean suddenly could not hear it. Even when it was left unspoken, as soon as it became clear who 'he' that Sam incessantly talked about was, it fell on deaf ears.

Months went by, and Sam would not give up, he'd never give up. However his attempts would become more sparse and he'd go weeks without even trying to say anything alluding to Cas. In fact, at a certain point, although he could not remember exactly when, he actively avoided the topic, just as Dean did. Some days he was too tired to confront the reality of his brother being severely unwell, and played into it, just to give himself a couple of days of false normalcy. Because Dean was 'fine'. He said so every time Sam dared to ask. So, some days Sam allowed everything to be just 'fine'.

It was one of those streaks, then. They'd have breakfast together and make a small talk, about anything and everything - as long as Cas wasn't mentioned. Dean would make a bad joke, and Sam would roll his eyes. They fell back into decades long routine, only occasionally broken by Sam, who would always end up coming back to the topic of the angel. He'd always try and catch Dean off-guard, even though he knew the outcome by heart by then. Dean would simply look away, the same, dark look over his eyes, and while he'd stand still, the same as before Sam said anything, he seemed miles away.

That day Sam didn't plan on saying anything. In fact, he himself forgot about it, caught in Dean's denial. It was truly easier that way, to just take Dean at face value, to ignore the fact everything he said, did, or perhaps even thought was a facade. The day itself wasn't remarkable in any way, either. It was as if the entire world adjusted to ignore the fact Cas ever existed in it.

They had their usual banter over breakfast, only to split up after finishing - Sam hid away with his laptop in hands, Dean would leave to work on Baby. In fact he worked on her so much, Sam wasn't sure there was anything left to improve. He never doubted that was in fact what Dean was doing, as he'd always hear banging and scraping of metal even through the walls. It was like that then, too. There was clanking, and music, and occasional roars of the engine. Yet-

At one point it stopped.

Sam only noticed it after a couple of minutes - the music still played, echoing through the bunker, but there was no other sound accompanying it. There was no delicate vibrations from tools being tossed onto the floor.

Perhaps it was his hunter instincts kicking in, or perhaps simple paranoia, but there was something unsettling about that silence.

Sam carefully put his computer away and followed the music up the stairs, listening in closely for any sound of distress, or even any sound at all, but Led Zeppelin blaring from the speaker drowned everything out. Once he reached the garage and the music barely sounded like any melody at all, with mild annoyance, he turned it off, for a moment relishing in the sudden silence.

Except- he heard heavy breathing, as if someone was gasping for air despite being locked in a place deprived of oxygen. It was loud, it was panicked, it was-

It was Dean. Dean, sitting with his back against the wall, knees pulled to his chest, tears streaming down his pale, clammy face. Before Sam could even move, Dean looked up at him, eyes wide and glistening, and he looked so terrified and helpless, for a moment it felt like he was just a scared kid, who saw something in the darkest corner of his room.

Between heavy, disorganised breaths, he managed to pant out,

"My ears keep ringing, and it sounds just like him."

#destiel #fanfiction #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #castiel #spn finale #im sorry #or youre welcome #depending on whether youre a masochist like yours truly #*casually drops the first fanfic adjacent post publically. be cool. stay cool. its fine.*#i dont know if its the greatest thing i ever wrote or absolute shit #art is subjective ig #i know this ship has sinked and drowned everyone in it but if i had to think about it so do you

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blueaetherr · 1 month

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welcome to eden

pairing: trent alexander-arnold x fem!reader [she/her]

warnings(s): none

summary: the one where trent recounts his journey to discover eden

author's note: something small to get me back into writing again

now playing: she's mine pt. 1 by j. cole

With the day slowly fading into the night, people retiring inside, both parties equally wanting to rest and repair for the following day—the day had come to an end, simple and peaceful. Quiet too, only minimal and distant noise interrupting the silence of the early night. Despite this, activities both calm and loud continued within one's walls.

As for Trent and Y/N, they had opted for both. Loud activity—that leftover piece of cake on the kitchen counter, the game controller stuck and forgotten in the folds of the couch, the music speaker misplaced in the garden, the UNO cards left on the coffee table. It all remained scattered across their shared home as remnants, now existing as cherished memories to discuss in later years.

Calm activity, they saved for the end of the day. Something as simple and uncomplicated as laying in bed together, feeling the wind touch up against exposed skin, acknowledging one another's presence through straying touches, tangled limbs and soothing breaths. How they finished their day would be how they would, too, start their day in the coming hours.

Adjusting her position Y/N exhaled, saying, "Tell me something I'd like to hear." Her voice came out as a whisper, small and slightly muffled against Trent's chest, like she was shy and scared to speak. But in truth, it was simple; she wanted to hear Trent speak. To hear him lift up his voice and pronounce words the way that he did so perfectly every time, something Y/N felt like she would never get over.

Asking to hear Trent's words and voice wasn't anything out of the ordinary. In fact, it was habitual and familiar to their relationship. In times when they wanted to sleep but couldn't, when they wanted to relax and falter a bit after a taxing day, when they wanted to bring about a sense of calm in a moment of chaos—whether in person or over the phone—Y/N would request Trent's words.

Tell me a story. Tell me about your day today, honey. How did you find the movie? From the hypotheticals to the yes or no wonders of life itself. Anything and everything was on the table and Trent would, of course, always say yes to her requests.

Normally, if Trent was given free rein about what he could discuss with his partner, he would have to think for a moment, always looking to capture the perfect exchange of words. This time, however, he found no need to wander his mind for thoughts. "You weren't the first person I ever fell for."

"Oh wow, wow, wow." In any other situation where Y/N had the energy, she would've reacted more to his opening statement. Perhaps a questioning look or a warning yet joking pinch to the chest. Instead, she remained inert in Trent's arms and expressed in a neutral tone, "I feel so, so loved right now."

"I didn't mean it like that, obviously," Trent laughed a bit, his laughter bouncing off the walls. Even with the neutral tone, he could hear the dramatic undertone behind it. "You gotta hear everything I have to say and then make up your mind about how you feel."

"And how do you think I'll be feeling post-explanation?" A fooling curiosity settled behind her voice. Will it be worth it to listen to your words? After all, she did request something she would like to hear.

Tilting his head to look towards the window, Trent noticed the shining light rising into the night sky. "Over the moon and beyond."

Humming, Y/N nodded against his chest and relaxed further into his embrace. Big expectations to meet. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to hear him out. "Let's hear it."

"Well you already know I've had a few girlfriends before you, and it was with my previous girlfriend where I personally felt like I fell in love for the first time. Everything was good, great if you want to go that far. She was the one partner I was always going to my friends and family to talk about. I loved it because she made it so easy; I was happy and she made me happy, and I thought that was more than enough for me to be content with the relationship."

She shifted away from Trent's chest– the distance quite small though not enough to prevent body contact– so she could face him well. "Sounds like you were in Eden," Y/N shaking her head slightly, feigning disappointment. She couldn't allow Trent to get through his story without bringing some cause for laughter to the conversation.

"Just like me get to it. I promise it gets better," Trent huffed out a small laugh, and Y/N soon followed suit. An instant of delight under the night sky.

Soon laughter fell short into silence and Trent continued, "Anyways, eventually she ended up breaking up with me and I was heartbroken. I was confused and devastated. Everything always felt right to me so I didn't know where it went wrong. I thought she was the one and only, my one and only. I'd fallen, like, pretty hard and I didn't think I would again after that. I found everything in her. She was everything to me. It doesn't get better than that," he exhaled, his eyes drifting randomly around the room, "I mean it shouldn't get better than that."

"But then I met you," Smiling, his gaze returned to his partner, fondness soon collecting in his eyes, "... and I quickly discovered that I was so, so wrong."

"Where she was giving me happiness, you're giving me happiness and more. Where she was giving me joy, you're giving me joy and more. Where she was giving me peace, love, content— you know what? Let me not ramble before I'm just listing everything great about you." Noticing her smile wobble a bit, he took hold of her hand and kissed the back of it. A request to comfort and ease her mind. Against her hand, Trent spoke with a small voice, "I mean you get what I'm sayin' right?"

Tell me more, keep going, let me know your thoughts– among many things she wanted to say. But she found herself in her feelings, far too deep, so much so that she failed to find her voice. So instead she simply nodded through sniffles and a struggling smile, allowing him to continue.

"So sure she was my first real, honest love. I fell for her first and that's fact—that'll never change. But she could never reach your ankles, honey. 'Cause I fell for you and suddenly, I felt it again but with you. Heck, I still feel it with you, over and over, every single day. I remember how it felt when we first met. I felt it yesterday. I felt it when we were washing the dishes together a few hours ago." Humming, he wiped away the stray tear escaping her eyes. "And I hope to feel that way tomorrow and every day after that."

"I am and have everything and some with you. You give me more than I need; you are quite literally abundance."

In truth, Trent didn't always have the words for everything, often spontaneous and unintentional in his speech. Still, his love language always pointed back to words of affirmation. Forever with pleasure, he would continue to offer Y/N his voice and words of her choosing. 'Cause in his eyes, it was easy to speak for someone you felt so passionately about, someone who you could never seem to pull away from even when you should.

Speaking on this aspect of the relationship made Trent reflect a bit, his mind rekindling recent thoughts. It made him lean back and think wow. He once believed that he had found true paradise in someone else. That she was everything ideal and secure, and Trent would never find himself in want of something else.

But then there came Y/N, the genuine living proof of everything ideal and secure and more. In the words of Y/N, Trent found Eden in her. She was this person of paradise, harmony, perfection and ultimate beauty. In mind, spirit and body. Someone to appreciate, love and acknowledge at every point in space and time. And in his words, she was someone of abundance. Always ever-giving and forever infinite in her person. Never would he ever lack with Y/N. The primal things—loud activity, calm activity—continued to leave Trent without wants beyond his partner.

"So how did that meet your expectations?"

Y/N strung out a sigh, exhaling those overwhelming sentiments. Some would think Trent was speaking just to speak, to pass time or for the two to fall asleep well, and that was true. But what was also true was that Trent found delight and happiness in speaking on this subject, speaking about how, actually, Y/N was his one and only. How she was everything—how she gave him everything and more. Yet all she ever asked for in return were his words and speech.

So here were his words, a mellow proclamation of love and affection, and like every other time it left Y/N joyfully devastated.

The soft breeze in the room shifted her attention towards the opened window for a moment. Soon, she noticed the moon, now high in the sky daintily shining into the bedroom. She hung her head back as she let a small chuckle through her tears. "I'm over the moon and beyond."

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold blurbs #trent alexander arnold imagines #trent alexander arnold imagine #trent alexander arnold x black!reader #black!reader #trent alexander arnold fanfiction #trent alexander arnold fluff #football imagines #football fanfiction #football blurbs #football oneshots

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black-lake · 1 year

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astro observations 9

hey folks, I found new stuff to talk about. this is more of an outer planets and generations obs 🚀

——

✮⌁ when uranus conjunct pluto happened during 1964, we saw a lot of rebellious music, fashion and other forms of expression, the beatles, bowie's debut album, twiggy, bob dylan.. etc. It was an important decade for many changes and revolutions. It's why so many people are still influenced by the art, music and appeal of that era. Even though it was a relatively short period, the intense need for freedom was loudly expressed that decade. I think with pluto in aquarius we may see similar events, but on a larger scale and with a far more lasting impact.

✮⌁ neptune will move into aries in 2025, and boy when I tell you I can't wait, I terribly mean it. I think neptune in pisces wasn’t doing it for me, I had creative expectations for it but it was all about spirituality and faith practices on the internet and an unhealthy addiction to it. this was right after neptune in aquarius which we all know made the internet an addiction in itself.

✮⌁ It had its positive impact, being open-minded about different beliefs, exploring our intuition and faith and other abstract topics. but we've already seen the negative impact. It's mainly the spirituality addiction on the internet that has became almost inescapable, replacing reality, practices performed and consumed by really young individuals which could distort their view on the world at an older age. living in an illusion and assumption of everything and everyone, believing everything you hear blindly, because of your or someone else's false sense of intuition will make the world more closed-off and less likely to evolve. it can create a reversed effect, inducing fear of real life interactions, closed-mindedness and seclusion.

✮⌁ with neptune in aries, we will come out of our shells and live in the real world, we will explore the world with a new set of eyes and a fresh sense of passion and childlike wonder. We're less likely to listen to our fears and other people's assumptions and bs. It's a new astrological cycle. Our collective hopes, dreams, fantasies and passions are reborn. Now especially when uranus moves into gemini, the same year, people will be more encouraged to become social and intimate, more fun talks and activities, I hope 🥹 this will also help fuel the inventive ideas pluto in aquarius brings with it.

✮⌁ y'all there's more to astrology than just money, success and fame. you can explore the world with that tool, thousands of things to talk about. there're topics that aren't given as much attention here. if you have something interesting and new you posted or you wanna talk about and are shy plssss just share it in the comments I'm all for ittt I wanna see it.

✮⌁ last time pluto was in aquarius 1778-1798, there was an industrial revolution going on, the peak of "the age of enlightenment", the french revolution, and many other political revolutions. the battery, hot-air balloon and parachute were some of the things invented. uranus was discovered in 1781. fun fact, the airplane was invented when pluto was retrograde in gemini in 1903, which makes sense since it rules over flying and air travel, also uranus was in sagittarius which rules travel as well, so interestingly enough there was a uranus-pluto opposition.

✮⌁ when uranus moves into gemini (ruling air travel) and with pluto being in aquarius, we literally may see spaceship inventions or spacecrafts and rockets that will launch to space. we may even be able to travel to a certain planet or at least find something new about it. we may find creatures or living things in space. air travel may look different, hydrogen-powered planes, cleaner and eco-friendly energy sources. at the very least we may hear of new scientists, and keep up with them.

✮⌁ any outer planet in libra, is a timeline I'd like to skip if I ever lived in, which I won't thankfully. It's by far the least sign that has potential to bring evolution and advancement to a generation, excluding aspects, it just ain’t doing much. Idk what it is, but maybe people are less likely to do anything considered immoral or unaccepted, they're more likely to do things like pleasing the generation's expectations and opinions. It brings a sense of connectivity, an understanding of comprise to connect and relate to our environment, and a focus on relationship matters, which of course is a building brick to bigger changes like all the transits are. but for me, not an exciting time, ig it's why I'm born in neptune and uranus in aquarius gen 💀

✮⌁ many of us have parents that have uranus or pluto in libra, and tbf, they likely were closed minded, people pleasing or even racist at times. but our pluto sag ass knew how to deal with it. how many of y'all gen z's gave your mommy a lecture on lgbt+ rights and the people with other cultures and backgrounds? 🖐🏼 also butting heads over someone wearing something on the streets, I'm like "THEY CAN DO whatever they want, let them live"

✮⌁ speaking of pluto in sagittarius, I'm a little underwhelmed. dgmw we made so many changes and paved the way for future generations, but moreso, perspective wise. I didn't see many tangible changes from this gen compared to pluto in scorpio, which was wild in terms of sexual expression, experiments, conspiracies, institutional corruption, societal and medical change. pluto in sag was kinda mild, we allowed everyone's voice to be heard, explored other cultures and lifestyles, probably have friends from all around the world, we're willing to learn and are open to all sources of knowledge, we're truth tellers and we won't shut up. I guess our mission was too easy for us.

✮⌁ pluto in sag gen probably have challenging experiences relating to higher education, college years may have been dark and even traumatic for many esp if you also have it conjunct chiron 🏴‍☠️ even our sense of belief in ourselves and optimism is wounded, we put on a happy front because we see a better future for the world at large, but not for us, like we're some type of teachers or gurus raising a child.

✮⌁ if you have pluto conjunct chiron, you may feel dismissed or misplaced. things can hurt deeply with this. this also may indicate some family karma that needs to be resolved. your ancestors may have done shady stuff that cost them a lot. you are here to change that and find the light that future generations will thank you for. you got the resources to do so since conjunction is the most beneficial of all. you got a lot of healing and transformative powers. since it's in sag, it may be about clearing up nasty beliefs and perceptions of people and the world, even harmful actions and disrespect towards different individuals. you're the truth-seeker that refuses to take on outdated traditions and beliefs.

✮⌁ pluto in capricorn gen understand the value of monetary resources because they experienced a restriction of it at some point in their lives. there's this feeling of restriction coming from societal rules or memories of such repressive time, which they may feel the need to go against and prove themselves by working and gaining more power. they know how to survive in times of chaos and make the most out of what they have. they may have goals of creating some type of legacy for themselves and future generations. also maybe capricorn ruling the skeletal system is why caps give the 💀🩻🪦🏴‍☠️ impression, sry I keep making jokes about y'all, but ya dgaf 🫶🏼

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silantryoo · 6 months

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BONUS [ LIKEALOOK ] — minjeong's deal

aeri uchinaga's mansion, gangnam-gu, seoul, korea. 2:43 am.

WARNINGS ; cheating, drug/alcohol imparement, manipulation, slut shaming, incel behavior, suggestive (3.3k)

kim minjeong had met y/n about an hour after jang wonyoung.

the younger girl had strayed from the viewing group, wanting a more in-depth tour than the one kwon eunbi was offering her. she had read about the school online, and her connections (read: BTS' jin) had told her the best place to view the campus was in the first year's dorms, at the very top of the building.

it was minjeong's favorite place too, seeing all the cars scattered and all the students lingering.

y/n wore a red suma sweater that day, sporting it as if she had already been admitted to the university. her hair was lazily tied into a high ponytail, stray strands littering her face, all signs that indicated she was already part of the suma student body.

but minjeong could tell that she had never stepped on the school grounds until today. the amazement in her eyes seemed to shine brighter than the sun itself, and minjeong felt almost hypnotized.

"um, are you supposed to be here?"

y/n looked at her and minjeong swore she had never seen someone so pretty until her.

she looked like a movie star, one of the ones you saw as you browsed through the menu of a streaming platform. her face was flushed with embarrassment, coating the tip of her nose which lay a singular beauty mark, and minjeong could feel her cheeky smile radiating with an innocence that she wanted to have for herself.

"please don't tell anyone." even her voice was pretty. "i promise i was just looking."

kim minjeong could feel her heart beat out of her chest.

this was their secret, hers and this stranger's.

"i won't tell."

y/n nodded, smiling at the older girl as she looked down at the group she was supposed to be a part of.

minjeong could feel herself getting more and more nervous being around her. she wondered if this could finally be it.

"what's your name?" minjeong asked.

"mine?" y/n hummed. "my name is y/n."

y/n.

she was gonna make y/n hers, no matter what it took.

"i'm minjeong."

the suma student watched as y/n looked away from the crowd, her cat-like eyes staring into her dark irises. the air of the vents seemed to breeze along the hairs on minjeong's neck, the girl forcing back a shiver.

y/n...

y/n smiled at her.

jimin glared at the shorter girl crying into her hands.

the party was slowly dying downstairs, albeit at a snail's pace, and the smell of weed was starting to become less pungent. jimin had sobered up quite a bit, the vase full of her vomit leaving a reminder. her stomach still hurt from huh yunjin's constant kicking, but all that pain seemed to dull out as she saw kim minjeong whimpering sadly in the corner like a stray dog.

she hated kim minjeong.

"she chose wonyoung over you again." jimin snickered, speaking in a loud voice over the music.

minjeong looked up, glaring at the volleyball player as she gripped her stomach.

y/n didn't know what she was doing. it was just because she was frantic, and she didn't want to bug minjeong, the latter deduced. she should've asked her best friend, and minjeong would gladly carry her off to a safer place, away from wonyoung and jimin.

what did wonyoung have that she didn't?

"shut up."

"you'd think that you'd let go of this stupid crush on her by now." jimin loved pushing minjeong's buttons. she could practically see the steam coming off her head as the girl gritted her teeth. "she doesn't love you."

y/n did. minjeong was sure of it.

the older girl had done everything by the book. she had taken her out to dinner, paying for all her food and ordering any extra things she wanted despite barely having money to scrape by. she had always let y/n vent to her, listening to all her problems even when it bored her out of her mind. she had even put up with wonyoung for a couple months, allowing y/n to engage in sexual activities with the girl, knowing it was just one of those slutty phases.

minjeong was perfect. y/n had to have loved her.

"she does!" minjeong stood up, marching towards jimin as the older girl stood up. she grabbed her by the collar of her shit, the high making her mind swirl. "you have no clue what you're talking about!"

jimin snickered, the smell of puke and beer making minjeong wince. she pulled back, her eyes dull from the drugs in her system.

"you're delusional as hell."

minjeong needed to clear her head. y/n would hate it if she got hurt, like the caring person she was. she just needed to relax, and surely tomorrow morning, the younger girl would embrace her and everything would be the way it should be.

wonyoung wouldn't get in the way. y/n wouldn't do that to her again.

minjeong's stomach churned.

jimin could read minjeong like a book. she was everything she was. ambitious, volatile, a perfectionist. if minjeong hadn't been so aggrevating to be around, jimin would've gladly ruined her then and there.

"it doesn't feel good, does it?"

minjeong covered her ears, trying to ignore the volleyball player laughs. jimin was just saying things to annoy her. she had no idea what she was talking about.

"why would she date a fucking virgin anyway?" minjeong flinched. "you know nothing about her. how are you gonna find her-"

kim minjeong hated yoo jimin.

"don't talk about her like that!"

"why?" jimin took a step forward, leaning down as she looked minjeong in the eye. "are you mad that i got to touch her first? that she moans my name instead of yours?"

minjeong shook her head, screwing her eyes shut. sure, y/n had her rebellious streaks. she would comment about things that minjeong would internally disapprove of, and would post photos wearing outfits that minjeong didn't like, but she wouldn't fuck jimin willingly.

y/n was hers. she was minjeong's y/n, and no one else's.

"shut up!"

jimin could see the girl spiraling, the volleyball player's presence too hard to ignore. she understood all the younger girl's worries and fears, even if minjeong didn't know she had any.

god, jimin loved ruining pretty girls.

"she wouldn't do that!" minjeong clenched her fist. "she's just trying to make me angry."

jimin burst out laughing, and minjeong could feel herself overheating from anger.

"she doesn't even love you." jimin's could feel tears starting to form in her eyes from laughing so hard. "why would she care?"

y/n loved minjeong. she had to.

"she does love me!" minjeong could feel her heart racing, drug-laced hatred filling her veins. "she just-"

"keeps choosing people aside from your loser ass?"

minjeong flinched.

she wasn't a loser. she was quiet, yes, but she was pretty. she knew how to talk to girls, and she got decent grades without even trying. she held doors open for them, and smiled at them. she always offered her train seats to the elderly, and always walked on the side closest to street.

she was nice. she wasn't a loser. girls didn't like losers.

"she's just trying to make me angry." minjeong was a good person. she deserved someone as good as her. "she's just playing hard to get. you would've fucking understand since you're easy."

jimin clenched her jaw. it wasn't her fault that girls just threw themselves onto her. she was only human. by the third person, she just couldn't resist. jimin was still loyal to y/n emotionally.

but y/n wasn't, and deep down jimin knew that maybe she never was. it gutted her knowing that her girlfriend was probably thinking of wonyoung every time the two of them kissed.

"easy? i'm easy?" jimin scoffed, leaning closer to the girl with the bloodshot eyes. "i bet that slut under some girl right now."

minjeong's stomach churned.

"no, she doesn't!" she couldn't. y/n knew better than to upset her. "she wouldn't do that to me! she loves me!"

jimin rolled her eyes. "she went home with wonyoung, remember?"

minjeong shook her head once more.

"no, she didn't!" minjeong didn't hear it, and even if she did, she knew she heard wrong. y/n was hers. only hers. "you're lying."

jimin paused.

she looked at the shorter girl, her eyes red and system full of whatever lay in aeri's kitchen. jimin wondered if minjeong was actually this deranged, or if it was all because of the weed.

"are you deaf all of a sudden?" jimin laughter halted. "she asked wonyoung to bring her home. not you."

minjeong hated jang wonyoung.

she hated the way the taller girl could make y/n smile. she hated how wonyoung could come in, and sweep her off her feet. she hated that no matter how hard minjeong tried, y/n would always notice wonyoung in a room before her.

"no..." minjeong shook her head, watching as jimin smiled at her. "she wouldn't hurt me like that."

y/n kept hurting her. it wasn't fair. she did everything. it wasn't fair.

"she doesn't give a shit about you, minjeong."

minjeong could feel the weed hitting her system full force, the pressure in her head almost unbearable. her eyes felt like it was about to pop out, and everything seemed so distant.

if y/n wasn't gonna love her, if y/n wouldn't learn to love her, she would just show her how much it hurt. minjeong would make y/n understand how badly it gutted her to see her with another girl that she wasn't supposed to be with.

y/n would understand then. she would stay away from jimin, from wonyoung, from everyone and be with her.

pain was all minjeong could feel, and all minjeong could teach.

"fuck you."

minjeong had had her first kiss with a girl named miyawaki sakura.

she was pretty, with big, doe eyes and a smile that anyone would kill for. they had met during minjeong's first year, and the journalism major had ensured that minjeong wouldn't ever be left alone. it could've been great, if it weren't for lee chaeyeon getting in the way.

minjeong had pressured the older girl, even when sakura had told her to leave her alone.

but minjeong had always been persistent.

she lunged at jimin, her lips colliding with the older girl's like two stars forming a black hole.

everything felt like fire.

she could feel the pads of jimin's fingertips, and how the chilling sensation sent shivers up her spine. the younger girl could feel their teeth clashing messily, jimin's tongue forcing its way down her throat. all she tasted was a concoction of jin, rum, and vodka as jimin's hands found their way under minjeong's shirt.

she pulled away with a gasp, letting the volleyball player strip her down into nothing but her underwear as she fumbled with the buttons of jimin's pants.

she pushed jimin onto the bed, letting the garment pool to the older girl's ankles before straddling her.

minjeong was gonna ruin her, just like jimin had ruined her life.

she leaned down, marking the volleyball player's shoulder with a bite. she didn't care if y/n saw, minjeong wanted her to see. she wanted the younger girl to know how awful it felt to know the girl she loved fucked someone else.

minjeong wanted y/n to feel her pain.

jimin's hands wandered as minjeong took off the ace's already crumpled shirt, hurrying to take off her bra along with it.

"you can't get the girl so you fuck her ex?" jimin propped herself up on her shoulders, smirking at the girl above her. "you're fucking psycho."

it felt good to know that y/n was going to regret her decisions, but it felt even better to know that minjeong would have yoo jimin wrapped around her finger in a matter of seconds.

"fuck you."

aeri uchinaga wondered why the party had died down so suddenly.

mere minutes ago, crowds of people had gathered in her living quarters, getting drunk and high out of their minds. now, there were only a few people left wandering the halls, gathering their drunk friends and ushering to get them home.

(she had seen yujin passed out in front of the laundry room door, and judging by the bottles surrounding the younger girl, she was most likely gonna stay there all night.)

she had shot her not-yet-but-hopefully-soon girlfriend, baek alex, a text, hoping that the younger girl hadn't gotten herself in another one of yena's brilliant ideas. aeri had only been met with one reply:

jimin's upstairs. i saw her an hour ago.

the message held many meanings, a couple of which ended with jimin drinking herself into a puddle of her own vomit. though usually, it had been jimin breaking a random assortment of her things in a fit of rage.

yoo jimin had always been an angry drunk.

aeri sighed, going upstairs as the remnants of the partygoers started to disappear more and more. she turned the hall, expecting to see a broken painting or a smashed-up vase.

she didn't expect to see jimin two fingers deep in a random girl.

aeri covered her eyes, looking away as she screeched. no matter how many times jimin brought a girl over, she was never gonna get used to seeing her butt naked.

(come to think of it, jimin was never naked. she hated it when people touched her.)

the mystery girl shot up, pushing jimin off of her as she covered her entire body with the only pillow left on the bed.

jimin could feel herself reeling back to reality, her face heating up. most times, she would get angry at aeri for walking in, but she usually wasn't naked most times.

"shit," jimin looked around. "um..."

aeri glanced at the two girls wide-eyed, before grabbing the door handle. she had no idea how long jimin had been up here with her, but she could take a couple guesses based on the marks that littered their bodies.

"wait," jimin called before closing the door. her heart was pumping in her chest. "please don't tell anyone."

toying with minjeong was an experience that jimin didn't think she'd enjoy. it was like striking a match and throwing it into a pool of gasoline. watching minjeong throw away everything just for her pleasure made jimin ten times more excited.

but jimin wasn't gonna let anyone know. not when minjeong could easily hold it above her head and threaten her loving relationship with y/n.

aeri nodded, eyes clenched shut.

"i'm not going to!" the uchinaga just wanted to leave and erase... that image from her mind. "why the hell would i?! it's not like she's your girlfriend or anything!"

the room rang silent, and minjeong could feel her heart suddenly drop at the thought of y/n finding out. she looked over to jimin, the exact same expression on her face.

oh...

minjeong could use this (but so could jimin).

aeri listened to the lack of protest, the air hanging dead.

"...is she your girlfriend?"

minjeong could still feel the weed in her system, and the intensity of the situation wasn't helping clear her head. jimin's gaze burned into the side of her head, turning around before she opened her mouth.

but minjeong was faster.

"um..." minjeong whispered, her heart threatening to leave her throat. "i... i am."

jimin whipped her head to look at the younger girl, mouthing 'what are you doing?' before clenching her jaw. she needed to clear this up, before aeri had gotten the wrong idea.

the ace looked at the frightened minjeong, who seemed to regret ever meeting said girl, and all she could do was smirk.

minjeong had no choice but to come back, and god, did jimin love ruining pretty girls.

"jimin settled down?" aeri furrowed her eyebrows, hand still gripped on the half-closed door.

minjeong shot jimin a questioning look. had aeri never heard of y/n?

jimin cleared her throat. "leave, aeri."

aeri nodded, eyes still clenched tight. her manicured nails snaked its way to the inside doorknob, twisting the lock before she slammed it close. she was in no way, shape, or form ever gonna mention anything about tonight to anyone. she needed that image out of her head.

she turned around, a chill of disgust running through her spine.

aeri wished she could've met jimin's girlfriend in a different way, but she was glad that her best friend finally let go of the shadow that was hwang yeji.

jimin glared at minjeong as soon as the door slammed closed.

part of her was happy that minjeong would come crawling back to her from time to time, but her stomach churned at the idea of y/n finding out. she had always been careful to not hurt her girlfriend with her rendezvous, keeping her contact names vague enough for her to know, but for y/n to never find out.

but she knew aeri loved to snoop, and she was good at it too.

"are you fucking stupid?" jimin spat out. "what if y/n finds out?"

if y/n found out, there were only two things that could happen; she would run to jimin, or she would run to her. minjeong knew that y/n would always take her side, but her gut seemed to churn at the possibility of y/n going to someone instead.

she needed this to stay quiet, to use it as leverage, to bring her y/n closer to her and away from everyone else. when the time came - if the time came - minjeong would tell her, but by then, she and y/n would already be together.

minjeong could feel the haziness starting to fade.

"do you want your friend knowing i'm your ex-girlfriend's best friend?"

"you're not special." but she was. she was everything jimin hated about herself, everything that jimin wanted to change. "you're just a body."

jimin watched as hurt spread through her face.

"was y/n just a body to you too?"

jimin had never wanted to punch someone more.

"that's different."

"i know her more than you ever will." minjeong knew every breath that y/n took, she knew which places she frequented, which food she was allergic to. she knew. "she doesn't love you either. she never has."

she was right. jimin knew she was right.

"shut up!" y/n was hers. she was her trophy. the shiny proof that jimin had stayed a good person despite every curveball life had thrown at her. she wasn't ruined, she had y/n. "you're the fucking freak sleeping with her ex!"

minjeong looked away, her face contorting to something jimin had only seen in a mirror.

"she hurt me!" minjeong gripped her pillow tighter, raising her voice. "i'm just trying to teach her a lesson, okay?"

perhaps it started as a lesson, but minjeong couldn't deny everything that had transpired between them.

"this wasn't a lesson." jimin smirked leaning down in front of the girl's face. "you enjoyed it. i know you did."

"shut up!"

minjeong did her best to push the taller girl away, but jimin was much stronger than her. all she could do was face the consequences of her actions, and how much she truly enjoyed it.

"how's y/n gonna feel about that, huh?"

but she was y/n's forever, emotionally and physically. jimin wasn't gonna stand in the way, even if she was a good fuck.

"i fucking hate you."

jimin was addicting as she was annoying.

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