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jeonqkooks · 8 months

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our beloved summer | jjk (7.5) (m.)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: exes au, fluff, Angst, smut; THE REASON™️, crying because obviously there's gonna be crying, mentions of hobi leaving :(, cursing, uhm she hits him; kissing (well, of course 😂), br*ast play, t*tty s*cking, oral s*x (f. receiving), f*ngering, unprotected s*x, r*ding, cr*ampie, uhm idk i think that's it word count: 6.9k (poetic, i know) note (1): holy fucking shit i am literally shaking like a chihuahua as i'm writing this a/n. what the hell it's finally here. we've been waiting for this for almost a year and a half. TREMENDOUS thanks to Jo @daechwitatamic, Ari @wintaerbaer, and Jazz @jeonwiixard for beta-ing this for me and for reassuring me that it's not a load of crap (probably) and especially Jo for telling me if i back out she'll come kick me. frick! gaaaah. okay i'm gonna let you read or i'll go out of my mind

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

I want you to smile, to feel like enough 'Cause you deserve yellow and lions and love I hope you come back when you're doing well Forgive me for being the worst of myself

New Recording 28 - Chelsea Cutler

The second the door is closed, his mouth is on yours again.

His hand on your waist, yours in his hair, it’s similar to how it was mere minutes ago, just the urgency has increased tenfold. You want his suit off as much as you want your dress on the floor.

Jungkook detaches from your lips to let you breathe as he cages you between his body and the door, but it’s not like you can focus very well on breathing when he starts kissing down your neck, sucking bruises into your skin. His hands travel south, one palm curving around your hips to grope your ass, the other settling on the back of your thigh to lift it up, opening your legs wider so he could better slot in between them. With your leg lifted, it makes the slit in your dress ride up, exposing your core to the cool air of the room. You can feel his growing bulge pressed against you, right over your panties.

You whimper his name when he sucks on the sweet spot on your neck, his hips grinding against you slowly.

“Yeah?” You can hear the smirk in that one simple word and the honey that drips from his voice. “What is it?”

“Want you…”

“I’m right here,” Jungkook says. His slender fingers rub you over the pink lace that you’re wearing underneath your dress, teasing your opening through the fabric for a few beats before he pushes your panties aside. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

His breath is hot on your neck. He presses his lips against your skin absentmindedly, the tip of his index circling you but not pushing inside just yet.

“Tell me you want me too,” you pant, your arm hooking around his neck to hold him close.

“I want you.”

Truth.

You pull him in for another bruising kiss before you blindly push him further into the room, your hands roaming the broad expanse of his clothed chest. He stops when the back of his knees hit the bed.

“Hey.” Jungkook breaks away from the kiss to look at you. “Are you sure?”

If Jimin knew what you’re doing right now, he’d say that you have zero self preservation instincts.

He’d be right, though. If you had any self preservation instincts, you wouldn’t be doing this.

Your stupid, battered heart has only ever wanted him.

“I’m sure,” comes your immediate reply. It’s desperate, but you don’t have it in yourself to even care. “I’m sure. I want this. Please.”

“You were drinking.”

“I’m not drunk. I promise.”

Maybe it’d be better if you were drunk. Then you could at least blame this lapse of judgment on a pathetic state of inebriation and not on your stupid self who’s always weak for him.

He stares at you for a minute, searching for any sign of your willingness being driven by alcohol. He seems relieved when he finds none, and it isn’t until then that he shrugs off his jacket, before helping you take off his dress shirt and trousers.

You haven’t seen him like this in so long.

Every defined line on his body, accentuating every detail that you could spend hours running your fingers over.

He looks different but at the same time, not really. A tad more muscular, but still the same lean frame. Hard chest and abs on full display for you. God, your fingers are fucking twitching with the need to touch him.

Once he’s been stripped down to his boxers, he leans down to kiss you before you stop him with a hand on his chest. The lone tiger lily on his arm catches your attention.

Your fingers reach out to trace the black ink on his body, the lines delicate, your touch feather light. You’re suddenly curious. When did he get it? You can’t remember if you two ever talked about getting tattoos.

“What does it mean?” you ask. It strikes you with the realization that this is just one of the thousands of things that you missed, a reminder of your lost time.

“Please love me,” he says, bringing his hands up to cup your face. He looks at you, just for a few seconds, before clarifying, “It means ‘Please love me,’” then kissing you again.

Jungkook clumsily and blindly searches for the dress’ zipper on your back, giving it a few impatient tugs until it finally starts gliding down your body. Your lips never part from one another as the dress falls to the floor, pooling at your feet. But once you step out of it, he does pull back to look at you from head to toe. His eyes fall to your chest, clad in a lacy pink bra that matches your panties. The look he gives you is the same one that he did when he saw you in your dress earlier today. But there’s something else in his eyes - realization, pride, perhaps a question too.

His hands are back on your body instantly, throwing you onto the bed, crawling over you like a predator. He discards your bra with ease, flinging it to the floor with the rest of your clothes. You shiver when the chilly air meets your bare chest, but the sensation quickly goes away when he takes your breast into his warm mouth. You let out a delighted sigh, arching your back to push yourself further into him as his tongue flicks over your stiff nipple. One of his hands comes up to squeeze your other breast to make sure that it isn’t neglected, rolling your pebbled bud between his thumb and forefinger. He switches to sucking your other tit after a while, then pawing at the one he just had in his mouth.

“Jungkook,” you whine his name when he makes out with your tits for too long, because there’s somewhere else that desperately requires his immediate attention. “Need you…”

He releases your nipple with a wet pop, and he looks pleased with himself when he sees that they’re thoroughly glistening with his spit. “Sorry,” he says with a chuckle. “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” He starts making his way down your body, kissing every inch of your skin that’s on display for him, before you put a hand on his shoulder when his face gets close to your thighs.

“What are you doing?”

He looks up at you as his fingers ghost over the fabric of your panties. “Can I?”

You lick your lips, contemplating whether or not you have the patience to wait for him. But alas, you decide, “Okay.”

Jungkook makes quick work of sliding your underwear down your legs and letting it join the pile on the floor. Even in the dim light, he can see just how wet you are, practically glittering with arousal, looking so utterly inviting that it makes his mouth water. All of this, just for him.

He doesn’t waste another second, diving right into you to lick a stripe up your dripping folds. Swiftly burying two fingers into your heat, he doesn’t stop until he’s knuckles deep. Your lips part in a silent but delighted moan. You forgot how good he used to make you feel. Your fingers could never feel as good as his, not thick enough to stretch yourself open and not long enough to reach deep inside of you.

“Fuck,” you drawl, your eyes fluttering shut when the tip of his tongue meets your throbbing clit, teasing it until you’re practically grinding against his face. You thread a hand into his hair, gripping his dark locks until he’s groaning, sending blissful vibrations all throughout your body. The figure 8’s that his tongue draws on your clit sets you alight, sends you into a whole other dimension completely as pleasure courses through your veins.

“So good,” he mumbles. To you? To himself? You can’t tell, but that doesn’t really matter. “Still so good.”

You hear it, just how soaked you are, as he begins thrusting his digits in and out of you. He strokes your walls delicately with each press of his fingers, scissoring you open for what you know is to come.

His tongue dips into your entrance then, teases your dripping hole as you pant heavily,

Your legs close in on his head as the orgasm nears, but he keeps your thighs apart, firmly holding them open as he makes you unravel.

This is fucking unreal - Jungkook with his whole face tucked between your legs, desperate to make you come with his talented mouth. You never would have anticipated this when you woke up this morning.

No, just a while ago you were crying by yourself down at the beach. Now you’re crying out his name as he smothers himself in you.

Once he starts curling them inside of you, it’s embarrassing how fast you come. You clench hard around his fingers as the orgasm washes over you, dripping down his fingers and he uses the added wetness to carry you through the high.

“Jungkook…” you whimper, sounding completely fucked out even though it’s only just beginning. After a while, the heightened pleasure fades into the background, and he presses soft kisses against your inner thigh.

He crawls his way up your body until he’s facing you again. You watch his fingers and the way they’re coated in your juices, wondering what he’ll do with them next. Jungkook languidly smears the wetness all over your lips like he’s carefully painting them, only to kiss you afterward. When you moan against him, he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your hand finds its way into his boxers then, wrapping your fingers around his hardened length, pumping him in your fist until he’s shallowly rutting against you.

The kiss gets broken when he suddenly pulls away, realization dawning on him. “Shit,” he exclaims. “I don’t have a condom.”

“Oh.” You blink at him, then you both just look at each other for a while. This isn’t a problem with no solution, even if the solution is a disastrous one in hindsight. You just want him, so badly that you can’t think of anything else.

He waits for you, doesn’t dare say anything else until you do.

Yet again, the opportunity presents itself for you to stop.

But you’ve already gone this far, and though it’s damn near impossible, you want him even more than you did before.

“Are you clean?” you ask.

It’s evident that he’s surprised by the way his eyes widen, and his silence that follows for the next half a minute. “Yeah,” he tells you.

“Okay. Then we don’t need a condom.”

He says your name once, his fingers brushing your hair away from your face sweetly. You always did like your name best when it used to fall from his lips so softly. “Are you sure?” he asks.

“I’m sure. I promise.”

Jungkook sucks in a breath, like he’s steadying himself, before he rids himself of the remaining piece of clothing on his body, then settles between your legs again. This time, his cock rests directly on your bare pussy. The anticipation makes it harder for you to breathe, makes you squeeze your thighs around his waist to not let him leave.

“How long has it been?”

Your answer is vague. “Too long,” you say. You don’t want to tell him that there’s been no one else since him, but you have a feeling that he understands it anyway. You think that he’d be pleased with your answer, that maybe it would boost his ego in a way, but there’s only a certain sadness that settles in his eyes.

“Okay.” Regardless, he pushes past the sudden gloom that befalls his features, blinking away the disheartenment swimming in his irises, to align himself with your entrance. He rubs his cock against your pussy to coat you in his precum, even though you yourself are certainly more than wet enough for him to slide home easily. “Ready?”

“Yes,” you confirm, bracing your hands on his shoulders as he eases the tip into you, making the both of you moan at the contact. You feel him, all of him.

For a second, you wonder if he has ever forgone protection with anyone else, or if it’s only ever been just you.

Jungkook takes one of your hands off his shoulder to lay it flat on the bed next to your head, lacing your fingers together, giving your hand a slight squeeze. “Breathe. You can do it.”

“Give me a minute.”

“We’ve got time,” he says, his voice smooth like velvet.

“Can you kiss me?” you ask, almost like you’re shy even though he’s balls deep inside of you.

He chuckles lightly, so endeared by you and your silly question.

His lips meet yours sweetly, like doing so would help make the stretch less painful. Maybe it does, at least a little bit.

You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, and he’s probably trying so hard to hold back, but he keeps kissing you nonetheless.

“You can move,” you say after a while.

“I’ll go slow, okay?”

“Okay.”

He rears his hips back, slowly, then thrusts forward again. You whimper from the slight burn, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. His movements are gentle for the next couple of minutes or so, and it isn’t until you start opening up more that he sets a steadier pace. Even when he starts to fuck you faster, one of his hands is still on your hips, rubbing your skin soothingly.

“Fuck,” Jungkook grunts out, followed by a sigh of your name as he pumps into your cunt, every ridge and vein of his cock dragging deliciously in and out of your walls. “You feel so good.”

He gazes down at you as he moves, and there’s just something so intimate about it that it makes you want to cry again.

You know what it’s like to have him fuck you, and this isn’t it.

No, this is something else entirely.

I love you, you think. I love you so fucking much.

“Missed you.” His words come out hushed, caught in half a moan, half a whimper. “Missed you so fucking much.”

“Did you think about me?”

“Always,” he says, without even missing a beat.

“No,” you clarify. “When you were sleeping with other people, did you think about me?”

“I only thought about you.” His hips stutter as he tells you this, like he’s confessing to something that he shouldn’t. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You never admitted this to anyone, not even Taehyung even though he probably sensed it, but you used to feel like you could be physically sick just looking at the photos on his feed every time you’d lurk on a drunken night. They were never flashy, just subtle enough for you to know that there was someone. It made you nauseous, because the place next to him was always supposed to be yours.

You just stare at him, not knowing how to process this bit of information. Sure, it’s an ego boost. There’s some pride in knowing that you were the one on his mind even if you weren’t together.

He’s so utterly gorgeous like this that you can’t form a single coherent thought, too lost in the way his eyes bore into yours and in the blossoming warmth that spreads all over your chest from hearing his words.

How did he manage to get even more beautiful? Sculpted by the gods. The standard for all men.

“What is it?” he asks when you stare at him for too long.

“I…” You blink away the daze. “I wanna be on top.”

“Okay.”

Jungkook slips out of you just long enough to get seated with his back against the headboard and pull you into his lap. You hover over him, letting his tip rub against your dripping hole for a moment before you sink onto him. You tip your head back and sigh as you envelope him fully again, the only difference is that you can feel him so much deeper like this.

He grabs your ass with both hands, kneading your skin as he helps you ride him. The sounds that you make together are downright obscene, bouncing off the walls, ringing in your ears.

“Harder,” you tell him shakily. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I want it to hurt,” you say, holding onto him like you’re bracing for impact, because you know he’ll give you what you want. “Make it hurt.”

Jungkook sighs once, then digs his heels into the mattress to steady himself before his hips go wild, thrusting into you with such force that it nearly has you sobbing, your head falling onto his shoulder. It makes you burn with pleasure, like a star before it becomes a supernova. When the tension starts building quickly, you can’t help but slam your hips down harder to meet his thrusts, to chase that high.

You press your lips against his skin, any spot you could find - his jaw, his neck, his shoulder. “Tell me you love me.”

The words are ready on the tip of his tongue, like he’s been waiting for an opportunity to say it. He doesn’t miss a single beat as he tells you, “I love you.”

“Mean it.”

“I do mean it. I love you.”

Truth.

For some sick and twisted reason, his words send you crashing over the edge, falling into that abyss of pleasure that you’ve been searching for. You say his name, over and over again, like you’re making up for all the years that he wasn’t around to hear it.

Your walls convulse wildly around him as you cry out, your toes curling, your thighs shaking. He holds you close, thrusting into you through your orgasm until you’re dizzy, like you could actually pass out from the overwhelming bliss.

“I’m close,” he tells you in a raspy voice.

You catch your breath long enough to say, “Come for me.”

“Where do you want it?”

“Inside,” you say without much thought. If you were in a clearer state of mind, you would know that it’s reckless and stupid. You’re not on birth control, and if anything were to happen, you would have no one to blame but yourself.

But you aren’t in a clear state of mind, and maybe this is even more dangerous than if you were fueled by alcohol. At least you can sober up from alcohol.

You just want him so badly that rationality seems like a luxury you can’t afford right now.

“Y/N,” he whispers shakily, though there’s a warning edge to his voice that you understand.

“I want you to come inside me. I want it. I want it so bad. Please.”

Jungkook groans at your answer.

He doesn’t ask you to look at him, instead choosing to hide his face against your neck where you feel something wet glide down your skin as he grips your hips. It’s followed by a sniffle, and hands that hold onto you like you’re a lifeline.

He’s crying, and that breaks your fucking heart.

You don’t know what to do. Part of you wants to tilt his chin up to look at you, because it feels strange without his tender gaze on you, but you decide against it even though the tips of your fingers tingle with the need to do so.

Your walls clench with purpose, squeezing around him, trying to help you get there. It’s not that long before you hear your name falling from his lips in a choked out moan, so needy and beautiful and makes you nostalgic. He empties himself inside of you, making you shudder from the sudden warmth that he paints along your walls.

You stay in the same position for a few more minutes until your chest is no longer heaving with exhaustion and euphoria. He gently pulls you off his lap to lay you down on the bed, pressing an apologetic kiss against your bare shoulder when you wince from the oversensitivity, from any kind of movement at all.

When he moves to throw on his boxers and goes to stand up, you reach for him. “Where are you going?” You instantly feel pathetic for asking.

He pauses, then squeezes your hand as that sadness from before makes an appearance in his eyes again. “I’m just going to the bathroom,” he tells you, his voice quiet.

The relief on your face must be visible. “Okay,” you say. Rationally, you know he probably wouldn’t fuck you and leave you the second the deed is done. But again, rationality is a luxury at the moment.

Jungkook returns a couple of minutes later with a warm cloth, and dabs it between your legs to clean you up. You grimace when he touches you there, evidently sore already from the activities you just engaged in.

“Sorry,” he’s quick to say, though it isn’t really his fault. Or maybe it is his fault. You’re not sure if that even matters.

When he’s done, he gets under the covers with you. “Come here,” he says, then shuffles your body closer to his until he’s holding you with his hands on your bare waist. He leans down to kiss you, and you let him. God, you feel like you’re fucking melting.

It’s different from the kiss down at the beach, and it’s different from the needy ones you shared in the past hour. It’s soft and slow and easy, like there’s nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about.

Jungkook breaks away eventually, and rests his forehead against yours then. One of his hands on your waist slides up to your ribs, until his thumb could brush the underside of your breast. The touch is gentle, sweet, completely innocent.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. He means everything he tells you. “You’re perfect.”

You even blush, like you’re a stupid lovesick teenager. “Tell me,” you say.

“Anything.”

You reckon it’s self-indulgent at this point. You’re only asking to feel better about your place in his life, or rather, the place that used to be yours.

“Tell me you can’t live without me.”

He nudges his nose against yours. No hesitation. “I can’t live without you.”

Truth. You know it’s the truth.

Nonetheless… “Liar.” Your tone is soft. There’s no bite at all. You touch his face, trying to commit to memory every detail, how his soft skin feels under your touch as if it’s the last time you’ll ever get to see him like this. Maybe it is. You never got to have a last time with him, never got to know that it was ending before it already ended. You’re not thinking about the morning because you don’t want to, but the seed of anxiety is there in your belly. Your fingers trace his jawline as you say, “You lived without me. You were doing fine without me.”

His lips ghost over your cheek. “It wasn’t much of a life,” he says. “I couldn’t bear it without you.”

The thing is, you know that he’s being honest. And it should make you feel good that you affected him as much as he affected you.

But then… it keeps leading you back to that question. The question that you thought you could go the rest of your life without knowing the answer to. But for that to be possible, you needed him to stay gone, stay out of your world forever.

He shouldn’t be here, tangled up in the sheets with you and kissing you like his life depends on it.

He shouldn’t tell you that he misses you, that he loves you. Shouldn’t tell you to please, love him too.

It’s contradictory, isn’t it? You needed to never see him again if you stood a chance of moving on with your life. You needed it and yet, all you wanted was to have him back by your side.

The tattoo catches your attention again. It feels like it’s laughing at you, mocking you.

You clench your teeth once, your eyes beginning to turn glassy. Jungkook sees it, and he’s quick to break up your train of thought. He presses his mouth to yours, shushing you with a deep kiss that makes your head spin, despite it all.

“Don’t think about it,” he mumbles against your lips, so desperate to get you to stop. As if he can sense where this could lead.

“How could I not? I don’t know who you are anymore.”

“You know me.” He holds onto your wrist, to keep your hand on his face before you can pull it away. “I’m still the same.”

“No, you’re not,” you say quietly, absentmindedly.

“Yes,” he insists. “Yes, I am.”

Maybe that’s true. Maybe you do see the person you used to know. But you only ever see him in glimpses and it always leaves you with a terrible, nauseous feeling afterward.

He doesn’t understand how much it hurts you to catch glimpses of the boy you used to love - the boy you still love - only to realize that maybe that isn’t the person he wants to be anymore. It feels like he keeps trying to kill that version of himself, like he despises the person who meant the world to you.

Are you gone forever?

Come back quietly.

“How old are you?” you ask after a moment.

The question makes him pause, his soft features twisting in confusion. He leans back a bit, so his eyes could focus on your face better.

“What?”

“How old are you?” you repeat.

It takes him another while to answer as he tries to see where you’re going with this. But when his search comes up empty, he just answers, “29.”

"I don't know who you are at 29. The last time I knew you was 24. No. You hadn't even turned 24 yet. Where was 25? 26? 27? 28? It’s unfair that you still know who I am when I don't know who you are. I feel like I never aged a day past 24. You carried on living but I'm still here."

His eyes well up once again, but this time, you can see it. The first tear spills over, lands somewhere on your collarbone. This is what you used to want, right? To see him hurting, just like how you were hurting? Well, be careful what you wish for.

No part of you feels victorious that you’re making him cry, that the score is finally being settled, because none of this undoes all of the shit you had to go through. If anything, it makes you feel even worse, like you’re still losing.

“I never moved on from us. I couldn’t move on from you,” he says, voice cracking toward the end. Your heart is doing the same thing in your chest, but you’re glad that he can’t see it. “I swear I miss you every day. I wanted you with me every day. You have no idea how much I wanted to come back to you.”

Jungkook looks so dejected, like a reflection of you these past few years. You recognize that look in his eyes. You know that sadness all too well. He was in as much pain as you were.

He loved you when he left you. He still loves you even after all this time.

You inhale shakily. For the first time, you feel infinitely selfish for only focusing on your own misery without even stopping to give him the benefit of the doubt, to consider the possibility that maybe letting you go wasn’t something he wanted. Maybe he isn’t the antagonist that you spent years making him out to be.

There’s more to it, and you need to know.

“Then why did you leave me?”

Graduation was just shy of a month ago, and two weeks before that was Hoseok’s flight when he left you all behind.

You and Jungkook, along with Taehyung and Jimin had gone to see him off at the airport. Of course you did, you were his best of friends after all. The goodbye was full of jokes accompanied by sniffles, and tears that overflowed without permission because you all agreed that you would hold yourself together for Hoseok. Jimin was probably the one who cried the most, even though inside, you were equally sad to see your friend leave.

A part of your life was ending, and that in and of itself was depressing enough already, but you thought at least the whole group would still be together and start the next chapter by each other’s side.

Nonetheless, it wasn’t the end of the world. All of you could still make it work, even if it wasn’t the most ideal of situations. You promised to keep in touch, promised to message the group chat every day and have video calls every weekend. You were still kids, and kids tend to be optimistic like that.

What none of you could see coming was how everything would fall apart in a matter of mere weeks.

Jungkook thinks that decades from now, when he’s old and gray and helpless, he still won’t be able to forget that day.

He should’ve been more concerned when your mother contacted him out of nowhere, asking him to meet with her, asking him not to let you know where he was going.

He’d shown up half an hour early to the cafe where they were supposed to meet, just because he didn’t want to risk being late and have your mother disapprove of him even more. Not once had she expressed anything other than disdain toward your relationship, but you’d always told him it didn’t matter, that you were the only person who could decide what to do with your life, not anyone else, let alone your mother. He always believed you back then, even if deep down, he still wanted her to see that he was enough for you. Her unattainable approval still mattered to him.

Jungkook spent thirty whole minutes running on nothing but anxiety and caffeine. That was probably his first mistake, ordering a cup of coffee which only made him more nervous than he already was.

When your mother arrived, it barely took her any time at all to get right into what she came here to say. She hadn’t even bothered with a drink.

Was that how it was always going to end? Should he have seen it coming from the beginning? Was he the only one who thought it would be you and him all the way until the very end?

Maybe he was more of a hopeless romantic than he thought.

It was the way she had called him a phase that she hoped you’d grow out of. That she had let you keep this relationship for long enough, but now that you’d graduated - now that you’d be starting a life for yourself - she couldn’t sit back and watch you throw it all away for a boy who could never give you what you deserved.

It was the way she told him she didn’t want history to repeat itself. How she didn’t want to subject you to the same fate that she and your father had to suffer through. How she had left your dad because in the end, he wasn’t enough for her and you, even though you were a child and you deserved to grow up with a father and with love.

She said the same thing would happen to you and Jungkook, because you were meant for greater things and he was not meant to deserve you. She made it clear that he would always hold you back, that he would never amount to even a fraction of what you should receive in life.

“If you love her, you would let her go.”

Cliché, right? Like the kind of stuff you only ever see in movies? Well, movies have to take inspiration from somewhere.

He thought about his own mother then, and about how people could have such different ways of showing love. He believed that your mother loved you, and he still believes that. She wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of seeing him if she didn’t care about you. She wanted the best for you, and that wasn’t him.

She didn’t have to tell him to keep it a secret from you, because he wouldn’t have told you regardless. He was well aware of how strained your relationship with your mother was, and letting you know would only drive it closer to the edge. She knew he wouldn’t tell you. He loved you, and that was the one thing that she could count on.

Just sitting there in that café, Jungkook felt like all of the air had been sucked out of the room, even though he was surrounded by the other patrons and their lively laughter as they chatted away. The pitiful way that your mother kept looking at him forced him to learn what it was like to feel truly worthless.

The pity in her eyes only intensified when he couldn’t even say a single word in response, couldn’t think of anything to defend himself.

Silence meant agreement, and that was what he chose. Jungkook - the naive boy that he was - stopped believing in you. He’d believed her instead.

He was just a kid, what else was he supposed to do?

She was your own flesh and blood, and he knew nothing could ever replace that. He would rather let you hate him, resent him for the rest of your life, than let you lose your family.

That day, he lied to you for the first time ever, saying he couldn’t come over because he was tired. The sunflowers he bought for you just hours prior ended up dying on his windowsill.

He wouldn’t see you again for a few more days, then for months afterward.

July was supposed to represent a blossoming summer, but all he could remember was the dreadful promise of a winter that would inevitably come.

You call his name when he takes too long to answer. “Tell me.”

“I love you,” he merely says. His hand brushes your cheek.

You frown, despite the way the three words make your chest tingle.

“I love you,” he says it again, trying to ease the furrow between your brows.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I’m sorry.”

His voice is soft, barely even audible, but it’s this gentleness that makes his words ricochet, ringing in your ears loudly like a gun going off in the quiet of your room.

Again with the apologies.

Fuck this.

It’s hard to take it to heart when you don’t even know what he’s apologizing for.

You gave Jungkook the chance to explain himself, but if he doesn’t take it, then that’s not on you. There isn’t much else that you can do.

You swallow hard, then shove him off of you so you could get out of the bed. Your legs instantly tremble as you attempt to stand, but you soldier on as you put on your bra and underwear, then grab your dress from where it lays abandoned on the floor. You’re shaking, but it’s difficult to determine if it’s because you’re angry, or cold without his warmth nearby.

He’s quick to his feet too, rushing toward you before you could leave.

“Don’t touch me,” you hiss when he reaches for your arm. He doesn’t listen, because when has Jeon Jungkook ever fucking listened?

“Y/N, wait-”

“Wait for what?! I asked you a simple question and you can’t even answer me.”

He runs a hand over his face frustratedly, clearly torn over something. He holds your angered gaze, but the way he looks at you is much milder, gentler even if it’s equally frustrated. “I’m trying to protect you.”

You don’t know if it’s the wrong answer or not. You just know that in this moment, it irritates you to no end.

“Oh my god,” you gasp mockingly. “Someone is trying to kill me.”

“What?”

“Someone is trying to kill me. Someone is waiting outside that door right now, waiting for me to come out so they can kill me. Holy fucking shit, I’m about to be assassinated.”

“Y/N, I’m serious.”

There’s that burning sensation behind your eyes again. “And you think I’m not? What do you mean you’re trying to protect me? Protect me from what? Do you think this is a fucking k-drama? Jesus Christ,” you scoff harshly. “What do you want from me? What the actual fuck do you want?”

Jungkook aims for you again, and in an attempt to ward him off, your swinging fist inadvertently collides with his chest. The dress falls to the floor again, laying next to your feet, that useless piece of fabric.

It probably doesn’t do much damage to him, but he’s a bit startled regardless. So are you, if you’re being honest. But you do it again, and surprisingly, he lets you.

“You coward.” You shove hard at his chest, making him stumble backward. “You unbelievable asshole. You fucked me, you said you loved me, and you still can’t tell me why you left me.”

He allows you to push him until his back is pressed against the wall. And even then, you don’t relent. Your fists continue beating against his chest as you start sobbing, spilling ‘I hate you’s in between so many expletives it could make his grandmother faint.

He might bruise in the morning.

You hope he bruises in the morning.

The least Jungkook could do is bruise for you.

You want him to curse him out for so many things - for loving you, for leaving you, for not even having the balls to tell you why he broke your heart. For coming back to remind you that you still love him. For proving that he still has you in the palm of his hands, and every twitch of his finger can make you feel like the walls are crumbling down on you.

But even as you tell him how much you hate him, you’re still thinking: Come back. I don’t want to keep losing you. Come back to me.

Because he’s the only person who can hurt you like this. When you think about him, it used to make you so depressed that you could hardly function. There’s no other way to put it to make it sound less pathetic. That’s just how it is.

You shouldn’t have agreed to this weekend, shouldn’t have been nice to him, shouldn’t have let him convince you not to think about it. You shouldn’t have opened the door for him in the first place, because there was always a part of you that knew he could get under your skin so easily just like that.

This wasn’t your second chance at holding onto him. It wasn’t a do-over. It was a re-enactment.

The years haven’t made you wiser, that much is clear.

You don’t know how long this goes on for, but at some point, you begin to wear yourself out. Your movements start to slow and the energy to violently sob leaves your body until you’re nearly collapsing. Jungkook catches you when you don’t have the strength to hold yourself up anymore. Why are you always so fucking helpless?

“You just…” Your voice gets caught at the end of a sob. This is rock bottom all over again. “You make me so sad.”

You grasp his arm weakly, feeling like your own lungs are failing you. You can’t breathe. It’s too much, too infinitely humiliating. He’s doing this to you again, and this time you have to shoulder most of the blame, because you are the one that enabled your own heartbreak for the second time.

You’re still crying, and you hate that this is the first time he’s ever seen you cry like this.

“I’m trying to protect you,” he says firmly, looking at you like he’s trying so hard not to break down alongside you. “Please, I’m so sorry.” The words come out as a whisper now. You can feel the tremble in his voice and the shake of his hands where they hold you. His big bambi eyes - the usual home of constellations - now house tears that threaten to spill onto his supple cheeks. “Please. What can I do to make you believe me?”

It’s those stupid fucking eyes. It’s your stupid fucking self.

“You need to tell me.” Your tears keep on falling no matter how much he tries to wipe them away. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“It’ll make things worse,” he tells you, his voice cracking as he does. He sounds like he means it, and maybe he does believe that whatever he’s hiding from you will only hurt you more. It almost has you caving, but you can’t do this a second time. You’re exhausted, both physically and emotionally. In the morning, you’ll think about how this is all so dramatic, the way you’re acting right now. The most k-drama-esque thing that has ever happened to you. But in the moment, you just feel like someone plunged a knife in your chest, and they keep twisting it, twisting and twisting,...

In the end, you decide that it’s a risk you’ll have to take, because nothing can be more painful than the absolute hell he’s putting you through. He’ll never understand how utterly excruciating it is to experience this kind of heartbreak.

“If you don’t tell me now, I won’t be able to survive you again.”

up next...

our beloved summer (08) ⏤ aka the JK centric chapter

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dorayakichan · 8 months

Note

hii! could I plz req a nsfw alphabet for owen? thank u!

Owen Knight (N)SFW alphabet

A/N: Thank you for your request! It was my first time doing this so I tried my best. I really hope you like it. Feedback would be very much appreciated!

A=Aftercare (what they are like after sex…)

He is the king of aftercare, the best of the best. As soon as he finishes he will take a moment to admire your gorgeous naked figure in front of him. Making him feel a sense of satisfaction and indescribable happiness. Although the slightest wince coming from you will have his expression change into a worried one as he will gently move away from you, giving you a small kiss on your hand or forehead, and go to the bathroom. Hoping you are not yet asleep he will come, and even if you refuse, telling him he doesn’t have to do that he will lift you up and take you straight to the warm bath which he prepared where he won’t let you do anything on your own. He will be doing all the work while also gently kissing any kind of bruise he has left behind on your body

B=Body part (favorite body part of theirs and their partners…)

Owen’s favorite body part is obviously his face. Have you seen the man? He is way too handsome and he knows that very well.

While his favorite body part of yours, well that is hard. Is there a place in your body that doesn’t look perfect to Owen? I don’t think so. To him, everything about you from your body to personality is just perfection. But if he has to pick one is your thighs he finds them extremely attractive and loves touching, kissing, and licking them while you do it.

C=Cum (anything to do with cum basically... I'm a disgusting person)

Owen loves painting your whole body with his cum. There is something so hot about looking at your exhausted state while breathing heavily, with cum all over you. The way the white liquid drips all over your body, the way your eyes look at him covered all in white. He just loves that. Certainly, he cleans you right after that, there is no way he would leave his beautiful girl like that and leave.

D= Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Your voice arouses him. He found that out when he was once talking to you on the phone. You were speaking so sweetly and your tone was so alluring that it made him hard. Being in a long-distance relationship makes it even harder for the both of you to enjoy that sweet physical intimacy that you both so much desire. Sometimes, he calls you just so he can relieve himself while listening to your beautiful voice talking about how you’re feeling, what has happened lately, or even a book or movie you’re obsessed with lately. He knows it’s wrong, thankfully you have never heard him and he wishes you never will.

E=Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Owen’s only experience comes from watching porn. He has never done it with anyone else before. You are the first and last one as he says. Although not much like porn he still has a vague idea of what he is doing, also he is very perceptive of every moan or movement you make in order to understand what you like and dislike, so he can become better for you.

F=Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any kind of position that allows him to look at your face is his favorite. He just wants to have a view of your face, at you while he is moving in and out of you. Your swollen lips, your glistening eyes, and all the expressions you make as you moan out his name. It gets him more excited, especially when you extend your arms, asking for a kiss, which he happily obliges.

G=Goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc..)

Intimate times with Owen are not goofy but they have a lot of teasing from his side. It’s always him complimenting you in the middle of it by saying how amazing you are and how perfect you look that sometimes embarrasses you tremendously. But that’s his goal. He wants to see your red blushy face trying to hide from him.

H=Hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He is neat and keeps his hair neatly groomed. Although he has previously asked you if you wanted him to have them in any other way he would be open to something new. Earning a punch from you as you ran embarrassed away.

I=Intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)

Owen is gentle, so gentle and sweet he does leave hickeys on your body but he also kisses them after. He kisses every single part of your body, moving his hand delicately all over you. He is not rough unless you ask him to. And even when you ask he is very observant so that he won’t hurt you unintentionally.

J=Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

As said before he does it quite a lot due to the long distance but even then is because of a picture you send him, of a phone call with you, or even a video call. Just the idea of you is enough to make him hard so he has to. But when you are together that never happens after all he has you for that.

K=Kink (one or more of their kinks)

His kinks aren’t many but they include slight voyeurism, during your intimate times he will sometimes even beg to see you finger yourself, the way your slender fingers move in and out of your womanhood, the way you stimulate your clit with the other hand sending you to orgasm, has Owen cumming even more than you. He also loves it when you talk dirty to him or order him around telling him what to do and how to do it with confidence he just loves to see those fierce eyes of yours take control. Yeah, he is slightly submissive too.

L=Location (favorite places to do the deed)

Usually, as long as the place is comfortable for you to lay at then that’s all Owen wants. Be it the couch, or the bed if you seem to be okay then he will proceed. There are times he won’t be as mindful but these are quite rare times when he is jealous, or if someone else tries to flirt with you, he will take you to the nearest place he sees appropriate enough and proceed on claiming every inch of you. Even in those moments he will be mindful of your feelings and words and won’t try to force it if you don’t want to.

M=Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He goes feral especially when you wear something revealing or sexy. Especially for your intimate moments a sexy set of lingerie is always a great way to make the man lose all his composure and bounce on you like a beast in heat.

N=NO (something they wouldn't do, turn-offs)

He is willing to do anything with you as long as it doesn’t cause you discomfort, or pain or put you at any sort of risk. So even if you ask him it will be really hard convincing him and even if you do get him to finally accept he won’t be enjoying it.

O=Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He is the best pleaser you’ve met and will ever meet in your life. He is mainly addicted to you sitting on his face. He enjoys the feeling of eating you out the way his face is suffocated by your thighs or your cunt and the way you grind yourself on him the more you feel the coming of your release, he enjoys it all.

If you are up for it then he is okay with it. In reality, he loves it but whenever you take it all inside pushing his member inside your throat nearly choking as tears come out from your eyes he can’t help but feel a pang in his heart. He knows you do it because you want to, yet he can’t stand looking at your teary eyes. It just doesn’t feel right to him.

P=Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

It depends on the mood. There are days when his pace is slow but his thrusts are deep and hard as his cock strokes your walls sending immense waves of pleasure with every thrust. Sure there will also be days when he is fast, he naturally tries not to be rough but if you both are going crazy needy for each other then it can happen that you won’t feel your legs the next morning.

Q=Quicky (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often)

He is not a fan of quickies but there are some special moments when a quickie is all he needs. That usually happens before an important race. If he is too tense he will look at you with puppy eyes and no matter where you are, you both will find a place just so you can help him relieve the stress he is in.

R=Risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc..)

Yes, if you ask him. Any kind of gameplay you want to have that doesn’t involve hurting you and putting you in pain he is up for it.

Also, he doesn’t want to risk getting caught while doing it, especially having anyone see your most vulnerable state. But he definitely loves getting caught kissing you and groping you showing everyone that you are only his.

S=Stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long?)

Babe, Owen is an athlete getting tired? What a joke. With you, he can go on for a whole week if he can. Adding to the fact that you have a long distance relationship he surely needs his dose of you at the highest amount he can get it.

T = Toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Owen is not the type to prefer toys he is very confident in what he himself can offer with his body. That changes though if you want toys then he will buy you anything you want and even if those toys are to be used on him he is good with it. In fact, he has actually started enjoying them but he will never admit that fact to you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Besides edging and talking dirty to you he is not as much of a teaser as you are.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

He is good at keeping his volume down except when you put him into a position of submission then some moans will escape out of him but that is the furthest he can get. Usually grunts, growls, and sighs at most.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

After a race or a long time of having worked hard, he sometimes gets a random surprise of you visiting him. He comes home, turns on the lights, and then walks up to his room to take off his clothes only to find you in a sexy set of lingerie drinking wine and waiting for him on a bed full of white rose petals.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Owen has quite a long and girthy cock which is circumcised. More importantly, the veins that line his cock are a true sight to behold.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It depends on what you do and how you look. There are days that when looking at you or talking with you gets him so hard, he lifts you walking straight to the bedroom and won't stop the whole day if possible going at it like rabbits. It’s all your fault how you are able to awaken all the lust residing in this guy's body so accept the consequences.

Z = ZZZ (…. how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn’t fall asleep until you do, only in rare moments after he has exhausted all his energy he will fall first, and even then he needs to be holding you in his arms so he can peacefully fall asleep.

#windbreaker webtoon #windbreaker x reader #owen knight x reader #windbreaker manhwa #windbreaker owen knight #windbreaker owen #owen x reader #windbreaker headcanon

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oncomingnight · 10 months

Text

Yandere! Boyfriend

Hello everyone, I'm very sorry for not being able to write for a decent amount of time but I'm finally back at it! I hope you all enjoy this piece and never hesitate in reaching out to me, I love hearing from you ♡.

Kristian grew up on a vast farm in Akureyri, Iceland. As a child, he absolutely adored going out to the shed in order to see the sheep and softly pet their coils of wool. His parents, Johanna and Ada, gifted him a tabby kitten on his sixth birthday to which he treated as his very own baby. Kristian really enjoyed collecting and watching VHSes as that's all he had access to, this lead to his immense love of film and his interest in making his own. He started filming himself as practice when he was just eight years old, resulting in videos his parents would later on show you during your first dinner together.

He adores gifting you homemade baked goods and seeing your reaction once the sweet taste falls on your tongue. You'll wake up to a savory aroma wafting in through the kitchen and find him flipping pancakes before cutting up fresh fruits, standing in just his blue plaid underwear. Kristian is the type of person to have cookbooks surrounding him as he gets ready to cook something up for the both of you, he follows the written recipe with his finger before getting all of the needed ingredients.

When it comes to celebrating certain things, Kristian goes all out. If it's your birthday, he'll order delicious pastries from high end shops like Dominique Ansel Bakery and Boulangerie Poilane. For him, the entire day is paused reserved for you and only you. Not only would he gift you the most precious presents anyone could ever receive, he'll purchase tickets for a month long trip.

The more time he has alone with you, the better.

When the two of you go out together, he brings his camcorder along. There's nothing better he can think of than him having these precious moments between the two of you recorded. He lays in bed late at night and watches back on these videos when you're, surprisingly, not with him.

Kristian is a tremendous fan of romantic music, whether that be old folk songs or modern songs of yearning. He listens to dozens of artists that are mainly known in Europe and that have a somewhat small support group in America. He will come up to you with a record in hand and say, "let's sit, I want you to listen to this."

He enjoys taking you to his hometown in order to show you his favorite areas but also for you to meet his parents. As soon as you enter his childhood home, the oak flooring creaks beneath your feet and the scent of Kjötsupa makes its way into your nostrils.

Johanna and Ada make you feel as if you're their lifelong friend, asking invested questions about your career, how the two of you met and the occasional teasing remark about marriage. Johanna momentarily leaves the table before coming back with a colorful wool sweater made just for you, "It's yours, Dúlla!" She says with a sweet smile spreading on her cherry colored lips.

While you and Kristian are on your way out the door when the night is coming to an end, Ada stops you and hands you a cardboard box with thread wrapped around it. Later, you'd find a box of Omnom chocolate bars along with a knitted bag that is decorated with tiny cartoons inside of the box she'd gifted you.

When Kristian has to make an errand when you're asleep, he always leaves a note on the desk in your shared bedroom. "I'll be back, honey, don't worry. I'm grabbing some coffee for us and a couple of treats from that market you like so much. Catch up on some rest ♡." On the bottom of the letter, you'll see little lovey-dovey stick men doodled onto the paper.

Now, this is the part I know you've all been waiting for.

Not to sound like a marvel movie with what I just said ^.

Growing up on a farm definitely has its perks, including gaining the knowledge of appreciating the land around him. This means he knows exactly how to store and hide seeds into the soil and have something beautiful sprout as a result of that. But, you know what else he knows how to hide in the soil?

Bodies. I'm joking, oh my goodness.

Kristian never wants you to see that aggressive and absolutely vile side of him. You're his sweet baby, you don't need to be subjected to such negativity. He'll release all of his aggression onto the subject of his anger, often resulting in his knuckles swelling and he even broke his hand one tine.

Has he not only beaten people that have bothered you but killed them, even? If you ask, then the answer is no. But everyone knows that's a complete lie. Kristian is a complete master at hiding his 'sins' from not only you but from the public. He'll ask his mother, Johanna, for assistance because who said she didn't do the same thing as him for Ada back in the day?

Maybe it runs in the family.

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lovelykhaleesiii · 1 year

Note

Hey you, I enjoy you writing tremendously and I had an idea for Aemond x Reader where reader is from lets say the last great valyrian house next to Targaryens and Viserys wants to join houses. Reader meets Aemond and she is very witty, arrogant but also very kind and soft with Helena. I would love to see the reader correcting Aemonds valyrian and how he reacts to this (of course he has also growing feelings for her that he doesnt know how to show but he slowly opens up to her).

Hope I wasn't too all over the place and thank you a million times if you do this! Love u^^

thank you, I appreciate that! sorry it took me a while to get this done, I had my last week of work before my break <3 hope you like x

Always Meant to Be.

PAIRING: Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader

WORDS: 1,716.

WARNINGS: fluff, soft!Aemond.

A/N - in this AU reader is Rhaenyra's and Laenor's biological daughter, Rhaenyra gave it another go to have a child with Laenor, and that's reader :) So she'd be the second eldest born.

Plans of your future, specifically of your betrothal, had begun cementing since you'd first bled. You were a young maiden now, and as much as your family loved you for your wit, humour and kindness, you were a pawn that could be used as an advantage for this greater game.

Your beloved mother, heir to the Iron Throne, Rhaenyra Targaryen, and your dearest Grandsire, the Sea Snake, Corlys Velaryon, had both methodically contrived the plan to wed you to one of your Uncles, a son of your Grandsire the King's from his second marriage to Alicent Hightower. Although, the princes and princess were in actuality your mother's half-siblings, being much closer in age, you'd developed closer bonds to them, having grown up alongside them. Although since your mother decided to take leave to Dragonstone, it had been a fair, few years since you'd last seen them, especially after Aemond's incident with your youngest brother, Lucerys.

Nonetheless, they'd proposed the idea to the King numerous times and Viserys was keen as ever to the betrothal.

"A great idea to solidify the union between the great houses of Old Valyria."

And so it was decreed that Aemond Targaryen was to be wed to Y/N of House Velaryon, on her 21st Name Day.

From the earliest, fond memories you had of your older Uncle, Aemond, this union was something that did not displease you in the slightest. Although having not heard of his reaction to the news, and considering that the last time you'd seen each other, the young prince was engulfed in rage towards your family, having lost his precious eye. Your intuition led you to believe he'd probably felt ambushed and disproved of the arrangement.

Although, many of your closest maids convinced you that often no reaction also meant something good.

"It means he does not disprove of the union, your Grace-" Your dearest maid, Penny exclaimed, as she amended the final touches of your evening gown.

You took a deep breath in, feeling slightly less anxious having shed a new perspective on the matter. You were not normally this anxious, nor would you rattle so easily. So why the sudden change?

You'd rationalised that perhaps the haste preparations being made for your arrival to King's Landing, as your 21st Name Day was only a few short months away, the reality was becoming palpable. Your family would attend with you on your travels, until the marriage was certified and only then would they leave you to settle into the domestic life.

Your mother and many septas had trained you for quite sometime, although, you'd paid no mind, remaining blissfully ignorant to your lessons, for a betrothal felt a lifetime away. Seeing everyone's eagerness, and the arrangements being made however, you'd begun to feel the pressure build.

****

"Ah! Our beautiful bride to be, look at how much you've grown my dearest granddaughter," Viserys cheerfully gleamed, embracing you in a long, yet weak hug.

Since the last time you'd seen your Grandsire, it seemed that time did not treat him so well, for his health had deteriorated greatly. Although here he stood, unphased by his condition, he was adamant on sealing the union.

"Thank you Grandfather, I have missed you."

As your mother and siblings continued on with the reunion, did you begin to scan the room for your husband to be, and yet he was no where to be seen.

In fact the only one present, excluding Viserys and Alicent, was Helaena, who seemed much more excited for you and Aemond than you had yourself.

"Oh, thank the Gods, that you are to marry Aemond. I always did see you more as a sister than as my niece!"

As she released you from her hug, she'd noticed your friendly smile fade, and did not waste a second to question.

"Well, since my arrival I have not yet seen Aemond, nor has he sought me out, and he is the one I am to marry. Is he not keen on the marriage?" You uttered, low enough for no one else to hear your yearning. You held Helaena's hands tightly in yours, unable to maintain eye contact, as you looked towards the floor and then back up at her.

A half-hearted smile appeared on her face, tilting her head slightly to the side, as though slightly amused.

"Come come now, I will take you to him."

****

The gust of the soft breeze, blew across your face and though your hair, as Helaena tugged your arm, guiding you down the stony steps into the muddy training yard. You hadn't a split second to take study the scene, until your eyes were met with Aemond's.

"Brother, dearest-" Helaena called out longingly, as she braced her younger sibling into a warm hug, before standing by his side, as she turned to face you. Those training with Aemond pause for a brief moment, to respectfully bow out of both your presence before resuming their practice.

"Your beloved wife to be has arrived. Had you gotten so nervous that you'd forgotten? You were oh so eagerly counting down the days!"

"Enough, Helaena." Aemond deeply exclaimed. His face remained stoic, as he slyly rolled his eyes to his sister's childish laughter. Her innocence hadn't changed, you'd noticed.

He returned his gaze onto you. The boy you'd once remembered, gone, as a taller, much more brooding and dignified man stood in his place. The bloodied eye that was slashed out, now a prominent scar remained in place, hidden beneath a black, leather patch. His hair, much more longer now, paid greater homage to the unearthly qualities that belonged solely to House Targaryen, similar to your mother's.

Out of not control, you could feel your cheeks reddened with blush, as Aemond's eye remained fixated on you. It was an unfamiliar feeling.

"You have grown, Y/N. Nykeā ābra sir." He uttered, his eye wandering over your body slowly, very attentive to your every detail.

"That is the natural course of life, I'm afraid Uncle. Although, nyke umbagon nykeā riñnykeā nykeēdrosa, bona iksos lo ao issi nēdenka enough naejot complete se gaomon. [I remain a maiden still, that is if you are bold enough to complete the deed.]"

"Hmm-" Was all he managed to sound, a half-hearted smile gleaming on his face, as he took slow strides towards you, only inches apart, although his figure towering your own. Though, you remained silent and unphased.

"Gaomagon daor fret, byka mēre. Hae nykeā dutiful valzȳrys, nyke intend naejot satisfy se jorrāelagon hen issa ābrazȳrys... Thoroughly.[Do not fret, little one. As a dutiful husband, I intend to satisfy the needs of my wife…Thoroughly]"

Instinctively, you let out a giggle not in reaction to his response although much towards his pronunciation, his Westerosi accent was thick. The maesters in Dragonstone were not as foreign to the proper Valyrian vocabulary, alongside your mother's help, you excelled in the language.

"It seems I already have a task at hand as your wife. To teach my poor husband the proper pronunciation of our Mother Tongue. The maesters from Old Town have failed you, it seems-" Your hand modestly covering your mouth as you chuckle.

Vexed as he rolled his eye, his smug smile disappearing, as he heard his older sister rejoice in laughter with you. His head snapped towards her direction, causing her to freeze, before he stormed off into some passageway, leading to the castle.

Oh, I hope he knows I did not mean to anatagonise him. I just couldn't help myself!" You reasoned with Helaena, who reassured you that Aemond was a perfectionist, and had thought (up until now) that he peaked in the language.

"He is a man grown, Y/N, he will be fine."

****

Nonetheless, your guilt got the best of you. After giving yourself time to settle, and time for Aemond to cool off, you sought your betrothed out. Much to your relief, he was not difficult to find, your intuition had told you to search in the library, where you would find him from time to time as children, his nose buried in some book.

"A-Aemond, dearest-" The tenderness of your voice alerted him, as his gaze swiftly turned towards your direction. He did not seem displeased to see you, although nor did he seem jovial.

"Have you come to humour yourself more with my Valyrian? Probe for some more criticism before making judgement of your husband?" He spat, before returning his attention back on the pages laid before his lap.

"No, I-I do want to apologise about before. I truly, did not mean to vex you. Forgive me, it has been a while since I've heard such accents, I am only used to my family's."

A defeated sigh escaped his lips, before his focus softened on you. He shut the book closed, before resting it down on the wooden table beside his seat, as he stood himself up.

He walked towards you, both his hands gripping your sides. He's pressure was tight although not in a hurtful sense, although it felt more reassuring.

"It is alright, you should forgive me, Y/N. It has been so long since I had been exposed to your wit. It seems there is a lot we both need to catch up on."

One hand released its hold on you, reaching up to your soft cheek, as his thumb grazed over your skin, right down over your lips.

"Perhaps you'll still be interested in correcting my Valyrian, private lessons of course," He uttered, noticing his lips licking before emphasising on the 'private'.

He was focused on you, although his eyes festering over your moist lips.

Again, through no control of your own, you felt a gentle smile beaming across your face, feeling no shame this time.

"Surely we do not have to wait for marriage to kiss."

Your unfiltered response ignited a deep chuckle from Aemond, its sound warming your heart.

"Of course not, gevie [beautiful]. We were always meant to be."

Where his thumb grazed over your lips, his own crashed down against yours, as you shared a passionate moment. All the worries that had previously troubled your mind, of Aemond's feelings towards the betrothal, vanquished.

He was to be your dutiful husband, as you were to be his loyal wife.

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #hotd imagines #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #lucerys velaryon

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cerise-on-top · 2 months

Note

Hey! It's me again, I've been a little needy these days and I'd like to make a request, something really cute.

Valeria, Farah and Kate.

Like, they spent the night with you having fun at home, but in the morning they had to leave for work without even having time to say goodbye, but before leaving there was a noticeable mess that remained in the house, a tremendous mess. But when they arrive late from work, they find the house shining completely clean, and soon they find the reader sleeping in the living room with the TV on, but still sleeping peacefully, because her tiredness does not allow her to stay awake to receive them.

(I would love to be spoiled by Valéria in exchange for being her housewife)

I think this scenario is so cute and I love your writing, and sorry if something is wrong, I'm using the translator again. Kisses and have a great day. <3

Hey! That's a really cute idea! Sorry this is short, I'm just really tired again tonight!

Valeria, Farah and Laswell Finding Reader Asleep

Valeria: She’s not particularly surprised to find you asleep, she usually comes home extremely late at night. However, the sight warms her heart every time. Stands in the doorway for a few seconds, watching your chest rise and fall as you sleep, a small smile on her face. It’s only afterwards that she realizes you’ve cleaned your shared home. Valeria will sigh a bit, the home was in complete disarray when she left, so it must have taken a while for you to clean it all up. No wonder you’re asleep. Although she may not be the tallest person, Valeria is strong, so she’ll pick you up and carry you to your bedroom, giving you a kiss on your forehead. During these moments she loves nothing more than to hold you, even if she normally isn’t a very touchy feely person. But something about you being asleep in her arms as she carries you, completely vulnerable, just gets to her. However, it won’t be long before Valeria goes to bed herself, getting ready for such a thing, she’s tired as well. The day after she’ll spoil you rotten, though. You’ve earned a nice reward for being such a good spouse for her, and so she’ll take you on a fancy date. Or maybe, since you’ve cleaned your home so nicely, she’ll just stay home with you to cook a good meal together. The choice can wait, she’ll just ask you later.

Farah: She’d be ecstatic to see you’ve cleaned your home. It must have been a long and boring task, but she truly does appreciate it. Like Valeria, she watches you for a few moments, thinking about whether or not she should wake you up. In the end she decides against it since you truly must have been tired. However, she will drape a blanket over you and give you a small kiss on your cheek, hoping to not rouse you too much in the process. Farah makes herself a small snack so she has had something to eat before she finally goes to bed herself. However, she doesn’t go to bed, she joins you on the couch, holding you close and nuzzling into your hair. While she may be extremely tired herself, she still daydreams a bit about how she could possibly repay you for doing that Sisyphean task. Anything from ordering takeout and paying to going on a walk during the sunset sounds good to her as long as she can show you her appreciation. Since she’s feeling very content around you, she might also start humming a bit, knowing fully well that you can’t hear her. But it’s just something she does when she feels comfortable around someone. Plus it helps her fall asleep too. In the end she’ll likely settle for something calm like staying at home and just cuddling the day away while thanking you. Or just doing whatever you say so she can feel like you’re getting enough rest and she did something for the household as well.

Laswell: By the time she’s home the sun has probably almost risen anyway given her line of work. Laswell would be dead tired, so I’m not even sure she’d notice you having cleaned right away. However, she would see you having decluttered the desk in the living room and be grateful. Although she may almost fall asleep herself, standing in the doorway and barely noticing her surroundings, she will see you sleeping on the couch and immediately think about sleeping next to you. Granted, Laswell isn’t a very cuddly person either, and she can’t sleep particularly well holding someone either, but she thinks it would be unfair if you slept on the couch while she slept in the bed. At least that’s her logic at the moment. She won’t even try to carry you to bed, she just wants to head to bed. Gets changed and stands still in front of the couch for a few moments before draping a blanket over you. Naturally, she’ll turn off the TV, but afterwards she gets some shut eye for a few hours as well. Only in the morning does she notice that everything is spic and span. Laswell will feel bad if you woke up before her and made some breakfast. However, she will make it up to you as well. If there’s anything you ever need from her, she’ll do it. She’ll have done it before as well, but she doesn’t want to be indebted to you. Gives you a kiss before promising you that she’ll clean up next time. Either on her own or with you. You did such a good job, she’ll likely get you some cake to show her thanks in the meantime.

#cod #cod x reader #valeria garza #valeria garza x reader #farah karim #farah karim x reader #kate laswell #kate laswell x reader #I don't have much to say again tonight #I'm just looking forward to going to bed. not looking forward to tomorrow #next week I have my first proper driving lessons. I'll be sitting in a car then and driving. I've never driven before #I've only killed the engine once and that's it #I think I have eight lessons next week and the week after I have the theoretical exam #I need to pass this I need this driver's license #right I wanted to write something about Easter with König but I'm not sure I'll actually find the time to write it #easter is next week so I thought it would make sense for me to write something like this #if I have to celebrate easter then so does König it's the law. I'm gonna pass my suffering onto him #I am not at all looking forward to seeing my grandmother. “do you have a boyfriend yet?”#I don't care about getting a boyfriend and I'm too much of a loser to pull a girl 😔#but it's such an exhausting question. how many more times do I have to aggressively say that I don't want a guy until someone understands?#it's gonna piss me off so much I just know it already

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skruttet · 2 months

Text

Dear moominpappa French,

Thank you for the very friendly letter which was sent to Lasse and me from Benn's! I gave Daniel's strip cartoon to Lasse who very much appreciated to have a helper on the Equator. If one has been drawing strip cartoons for seven years or more there's an everlasting hunt for new ideas and sometimes one ends up in desperation.

We were very thrilled by the Moomin game - it looks good! And it's a real joy and a help in the job to know there's a whole family liking the stories so much that it has gone mooministic! I don't know if you have the very first strip cartoons? Say, m. on the Riviera, m. valley goes djungle, The lonely island, The dangerous winter (where Mymble falls in love with Mr. Brisk). Ten books with m. strip cartoons - three synopsies in each - have been published in Swedish by Gebers förlag, (Stockholm, bot 159) but maybe they're already in the tremendous collection of your son?

Here in Helsingfors the cold has ceased and Lasse and I are beginning to wait for spring. We have a small island each, the very last into the sea, in the Finnish gulf east from H:fors and go out there as soon as the ices break up. On my island there are no trees, only rock and wild flowers and in the middle a mysterious, rather deep lake.

You would have liked the Big Storm (biggest in 60 years) last summer - 11 beaufort! The cellar was full of seaweed and sand afterwards, the boats moored to the hut and breakers going over most of the island. My Moominmamma (aged 86) was enchanted. Afterwards, a helicopter landed on our islands counting the survivors. Lasse was inspired to a new synopsis. Don't you think the Associated Newspapers at Fleet Street should send him to Africa to get new ideas?

A lot of love and good luck to you all!

Tove Jansson.

P.S. Hope you've got the Moomin mascot I've sent.

More pictures of the correspondance & game on their Facebook post!

#the company's out here trying to make 'moominous' a thing when tove already coined the term 'mooministic' instead smh #'my moominmamma' 🥹#tove jansson #lars jansson #not sure about the 'bot 159' maybe it's 'lot 159' idk

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jamespotterthefirst · 3 months

Text

A Note and A Thank You

Dear wonderful readers,

I've been on the fence about this for months, but due to some life-changing (and scary) news I received today in my personal life, I decided it is the right time to say this. I always said that when the time came to hang my writing hat, I would not write a long goodbye post. And I plan to stick to my word. This is not goodbye. Not really.

This upcoming March 2024 will mark four years of writing for Choices (more specifically, for Open Heart). I started this journey when Open Heart: Second Year was still publishing and as the world was going on lockdown due to the pandemic. Times back then were truly terrifying and unpredictable, but I found solace and comfort in this community. I was lucky to be received with what felt like open arms by friendly users and enthusiastic readers.

That is a memory I will cherish until the end of my days.

With that in mind, I wanted to take a moment to express my deepest and everlasting gratitude to YOU for joining me in this crazy journey. Writing for Open Heart helped me re-discover my love for writing and I truly believe that wouldn’t have been possible without you. Your support and enthusiasm have been a tremendous source of joy these past four years.

Again, I know this sounds like a goodbye and it’s not.

But I also want to be completely honest about my future here.

Many of you know that the world has long since returned to normal since the pandemic (or as normal as it can be). Things are vastly different from the day I wrote and published my first Open Heart fic (Lovely). These days, life has presented me with a series of challenges, including serious medical diagnoses and demanding work duties. As a result, finding the time and energy to write has become a complex balancing act.

I wanted to share this with you to express my sincere appreciation for your understanding during this busy (and terrifying) period. Though there is still much I want to create, I am uncertain about the frequency with which I can write in the future. To be brutally honest with myself, I doubt I will be able to create anything in the foreseeable future. I hope one day things will be okay in my life and I can return to doing what I love most.

In the meantime, I leave you with my Masterlist. The works there are not perfect and if given the chance, I would definitely change many things, but they were written with much, much love. Though my online time is very limited now, I will still be here on Tumblr, reading and reblogging content when I get little breaks here and there. You guys also know I can't resist reblogging pictures of my pairing or answering asks about them! You can also find me on my main blog (if you want to follow the madness there).

I once more want to say thank you. From the bottom of my heart. Your support, understanding, and patience mean the world to me. Thank you for being a part of this journey, and I hope to return to writing one day.

Until then, I'll see you guys around!

Sincerely,

Bree

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc

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nyimasu · 1 year

Text

───── 𝐽𝑈𝐷𝐴𝑆 𝐾𝐼𝑆𝑆

PAIRING — rockstar!geto x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS — the last concert of the tour is over and suguru is finally free to have his way with you after pulling a stunt that leaves you and an entire arena speechless.

CW — geto has long hair and nails (+ a tongue piercing ehe), nanami needs a break, gojo is a menace, dry humping, voyeurism maybe?, fingering and oral (f receiving), slight blaphemism // WC — 3.9k ;; cross-posted on ao3

ANYA'S CORNER — as crazy as it might sound, I think atsushi sakurai and getō are pretty similar and no, i won't elaborate lmao hope you enjoy this!

REBLOGS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED!

Countless scents caressed your nostrils as you kept moving forward, elbows pushing into many rib cages to regain your rightful place in the avenue. It wasn’t small, but the tremendous amount of bodies and screams filling the place should’ve spoken tons about the increasing popularity of the band playing on stage. They were performing one of their original songs.

The fact they got so huge in such a short time was amazing, and most of it was thanks to the members’ efforts to be as present as possible for their fans.

A girl next to you almost fainted on the spot when one of the men on stage locked eyes with her, but the moment he moved to come up front and lean towards the bundle of arms stretched out to touch him, he looked at you through the corner of an eye.

And the motherfucker winked at you.

Fucking Gojo.

Wet, snow-white hair framed an equally sweaty yet perfect oval. Deep ocean eyes beamed with adrenaline as the man whose features resembled those of a celestial being chuckled in the mic. Being the front-man and co-founder of the band, Gojo Satoru surely knew how to keep a crowd entertained.

He was sure you were cursing him in every language you knew, but he couldn’t care less: it was his mission, being Suguru’s best friend, to annoy you every chance he got.

Much to the fans’ displeasure and your momentary relief, the singer spun around and ran to high-five Toji, the buff man’s head tilting to the beat of the drums he was playing perfectly as usual. Their gazes met halfway, and by the time the dark-haired man looked up and waved at you, Satoru the menace was already kneeling and singing at the top of his lungs in the furthest spot of the stage. Mama Reality gave you small mercies sometimes, so you weren’t the only person Gojo loved to annoy.

How Nanami, the band’s manager, always managed to stop himself from murdering Satoru every hour of the day, you didn’t know. Probably all those hours spent on doing yoga and meditation helped him. Kudos to the man for that, really.

Hell, you should’ve joined him once in a while.

“Come on everyone, tear this whole place down with your screams!” Gojo’s voice amplified by the mic boomed through the place, and everyone followed his words right after.

His laughter at that was as crystalline and enjoyable as his voice, the background music subsiding until all you could hear were his airless chuckles. Their final song was over, and that meant the concert was about to end.

It also meant he was going to interact a lot with their fans, let them be part of his notorious on-stage games. Somehow you feared it was going to be a very long night.

“Did you enjoy the concert, our beautiful stars?”

Another ear-piercing, universal scream attacked your eardrums and Gojo brought a hand to his chest, fingers spreading on it as more and more screams joined the previous ones. He tended to get emotional in the end, especially after singing the first song the band recorded since they debuted.

“So I presume you’re ready to have some more fun with us.

It’s time for our little game⁓”

His stamina made up for the other two members’, but it wasn’t a problem at all.

He was born to be on the stage and at the centre of the world.

No.

Gojo Satoru was the world.

He watched where you stood again, knowing damn well he saved the best for last.

Even though you had kept an eye on him the entire time he was in your area, your almost undivided attention had been on your partner and his smirk directed at you.

The hundreds and hundreds of faces and colourful clothes could never distract Geto from his work, and they could do nothing to conceal your silhouette from him. He always found you, no matter where you were.

And that night he spotted you immediately, long before Gojo did.

Now that he was standing close to Toji, leather jacket hanging upon a sleeveless tank top and black jeans, you saw the faintest hint of tiredness written all over him. He’d been working so hard lately, getting little to no sleep to rehearse.

That maddening man didn’t even feel the need to look at which notes to hit for his solo part. He was so good at it, and he never took his eyes off you while playing, not for a second.

It was the same during sex, but he’d been so busy with his hectic schedule. Ugh. You missed his warmth, his hands on you during the nights he was locked in the studio or rehearsing with Gojo and Toji.

Luckily to you both, that was the last event the band was going to have for at least a couple of weeks.

You’d have plenty of time to rest and catch up on everything you two left out.

Gojo bumped his shoulder against Suguru’s and wiggled his eyebrows, all for the sake of the last minutes of the show.

“Suguru, my man! You didn’t hear a word of what Toji said, did you? What’s on your mind?”

Several fans snickered, the interactions between the founders of the band so spontaneous and care-free. Being caught red-handed, Geto turned to look at the crowd in front of them and sighed.

“What can I say? I’m a man in love, Satoru. I was thinking about my girlfriend.”

Perspiration licked his skin as he leaned closer to talk louder in the mic Gojo was holding.

“And I hope she’s been thinking of me, too. We’ve been apart for so long that I fear she’s already forgot about me.”

A couple metres away a young woman let out a soft “aww”, followed by a few others behind her screaming “she could never!”

You, on the other hand, were praying for the earth to open and swallow you.

Not a lot of fans ever saw you, for the boys preferred to keep work and private matters separated, yet everyone supported you and Suguru. However, that public display of affection was rather strange for your partner, so you kept watching in silence. Where was he heading to?

“Oh, you heard them. She’d never do that. Also, Toji and I heard you complain a lot because of this. Am I right, Fushiguro?”

“Yep. Heartbroken, to say the least.”

“Damn right, but cheer up. We did amazing tonight!

I’m sure your partner is just as proud as our stars are, maybe even more.” he flashed Suguru a smile so bright you wondered if the Sun was jealous of him sometimes.

“Maybe she’ll give you a nice time tonight. You deserve it.”

That evening, the man you loved had decided to leave all his hair bands at home so his long, straight hair reached way past his waist, and you were among those who envied the lushness and length of it.

More pitch-black tresses fell behind Geto as he suddenly straightened his back, a meaningful look passing through him and his best friend. To you, Geto Suguru was more of a menace than Satoru was.

“I think I’ll be the one giving her a treat, Satoru. See, I’ll be the only one eating tonight.”

You didn’t like the mischief hidden in Suguru’s voice and Gojo’s response to it. Being the hardcore enthusiast of shitty innuendos he was, the front-man whistled at the remark and ogled at the crowd. Adding fuel to the fire was his thing.

“Really? That’s a bit selfish of you, isn’it? I heard that eating food alone isn’t that enjoyable. But if you’re in two, then… that’s better, don’t ya think?”

It was at that moment that Suguru raised his dominant hand, two fingers placing themselves on either side of the mouth. You only had enough time to appreciate once more his longer-than-average black polished nails and the tail of the tattooed dragon wrapped around his wrist before your heart sank to your feet.

Ah, well.

Maybe it was the right time to bang your head against the barricade, because now he was sticking his tongue out, eliciting a collective gasp from the majority of fans and a desperate whine from your part.

He just did not.

The metallic bud studding his tongue rivalled the brightness of Gojo’s locks for a second, then Geto tilted his head towards the crowd and slightly squinted his eyes. He was staring at your dumbfounded persona, of course.

“I wasn’t talking about that kind of food, my man.”

Your whole body was aflame.

Once the concert was really over and you got backstage, your feet grew wings.

Rather than facing such a thing ever again, you’d descend in Hell to have a cup of tea with the Devil. on your side that day, and so was the King of Hell: rather than get horny in public again because Suguru decided it was a good moment to wake your pussy up, you’d prefer to be dragged into the infernal underworld and have a cup of black tea with the first fallen angel. It’d be less embarrassing.

On your way to Geto’s dressing room you bumped into Satoru, Toji and Nanami. If it wasn’t for the latter’s presence, you would’ve been at the singer’s throat already.

“Hello, gorgeous. Suguru is changing back there. Did you enjoy the concert?”

You gifted him a saccharine smile, feet already heading towards the room he pointed to when you suddenly turned on your heels and hissed: “Pull another thing like that again and I’ll claw your face off.”

“Yeah, yeah. Weird way to thank me for getting you all worked up for my best friend, but you’re welcome.”

“Oh, baby. You earned yourself a punch in the throat, too.”

Toji and Nanami dragged a fuming Gojo away amidst their laughs and your melting stress, then you practically teleported yourself in your partner’s space.

That’s where you found his half-naked form manspreading on the couch, head thrown back over the backrest and arms resting at his sides. He must’ve dozed off while changing.

He was exhausted.

Sparing a single look at the mirror above the makeup station, you locked the door. You had gone there full of rage and pent-up sexual frustration, ready to chastise him for what he did and said on stage. But how could you now, seeing him so serene?

So rideable?

God, he was going to be the death of you.

Such fickle creatures women were, especially horny ones. Being the Geto simp you were down to the core, you choked on air when your eyes landed on his hands.

“Paying more attention to my fingers rather than my face?.”

“Well, I just glanced at your hands. I haven’t gotten a good look at you in a while, my love. Do you really want to patronise me for that? That’s harsh, considering you left me to my own devices for so long.”

Your irritated response brought him to raise his head, crack an eye open and motion for you to come closer.

“We’re in a dangerous mood tonight.”

“Yeah, and we need to talk. Turn back on the rational bits of your brain now.”

You straddled him and almost sighed when his cladded fingers stroked the bare slivers of skin they could reach. Underwear was the only barrier keeping his fingers apart from your aching pussy.

It was driving you mad to keep up with the act, but you had to.

His growing impatience didn’t go unnoticed and veins popped up against his skin as his grip on you tightened. You were slowly grinding on him, letting him know how much you needed his touch. But first, some teasing on your part wouldn't hurt.

Your eyes scanned his body and a breathless chuckle left him. “Do you really want to chew me up for what I did on stage? You loved it but don’t worry.

There’s no need for you to say it out loud.”

Unfazed, you followed his fingers roaming on your belly. Then a sudden moan left your mouth and you shot him a warning look.

Lost in the touch, you hadn’t noticed him sneaking a hand under your skirt to press a finger right on your pussy.

“Just like I thought. Soaking wet.”

Despite his words, he longed for you. Ever since his schedule turned out to be so bad he couldn’t even get home and kiss you goodnight. But now he was going to make up for everything.

Starting right now.

Before he could carry on, his eyebrows flew upward at the sight of your nails sinking into his collarbone. A swift movement, and then his fingers laced with yours on him.

The matching nail polish turned you on more than you were already and another gush of arousal painted your inner thighs. This time Geto felt it, too, and hissed when you spread your juices wider as you grinded on his jeans. His crotch.

What surprised him more, though, was the sassiness exuding off of your eyes. No more faux indifference.

“You wicked Judas. Selling me to the wolves for thirty pieces of silver. I would like to say it was Gojo’s idea, but I know better. You probably thought about doing something like this already, but you needed a trigger to pull and… well, I’m sure Satoru wasn’t against it.

You embarrassed me to death.”

“Dramatic much? From what I see, you’re still very much alive.”

You thrusted against his hard-on in retaliation and his jaw clenched. The next one came even quicker and you pressed hard on him. He darted his tongue out at your stubborn silence and carefully watched as you leaned closer to him, his thighs tensing under yours. They weren’t the only thing twitching.

“Fine, while I’m still here how about you put your fingers and that clever tongue of yours to work?

I missed them.”

Well, that worked like a charm.

Two of your greatest weaknesses, besides Geto’s alluring beauty and impeccable personality, were both his hands and his tongue piercing. And you folded every time he used them.

Judas’ kiss never felt sweeter as his lips crashed against your open ones, his other arm immediately pressing against the small of your back. He moved closer and swallowed another moan from you when his fingers still on your panties pushed them aside.

And then he pushed two fingers inside you, slick coating them as they brushed the entrance of your soft, warm walls.

“Not so cocky anymore, uhm?” he muttered, a wicked smile sprawled across his face. Geto drank up every little whimper you gave him like the starved man he was as he dug deeper, and groaned under his breath when you finally clenched around his long fingers.

That was his cue to go faster.

“Suguru, please.”

“Please what, doll?”

Shrouding your eyes away from him, you looked at the small zip on the side of your skirt and he immediately obliged. You needed to feel him better against your body. It’d been so long.

He did a quick work of it, grabbing the cloth between two fingers and throwing it behind the couch.

“Better?”

He didn't wait for an answer because he kissed you again, this time opening his mouth enough for you to explore it with your tongue. You sighed as you went on, hands now caressing his sides while he plunged into you, adding another finger when the squelching noises became obnoxious. You were close and Suguru wanted to see you come on his fingers.

His eyes bore a hole in yours but didn’t stop as you writhed at the sensation of an orgasm bubbling in your chest. You opened your mouth to breathe but Geto slipped his tongue in, the piercing swirling around your taste buds.

“Oh-” you couldn’t even speak. You felt so full after such a long time, it was almost too good to be true. But just as you thought so, you looked down where he was still playing with your pussy. By the time he scissored his fingers, he was so deep inside you that only his knuckles were visible. And the sight of them glistening with your arousal was enough to have you clench harder.

“I can feel you, love. Don’t be shy, come all over my fingers.”

Your back arched off on its own as Suguru’s thumb pressed on your swollen clit. Circling on it a few times while he was knuckles-deep inside and you were already over the edge, chanting strings of his name. He fucked you through the orgasm until you came down from it and your body twitched in overstimulation. His fingers left you as you drew him back for an open-mouthed kiss, thanking him under your breath. It was true what he said back on stage: you really needed it. His fingers felt twice as good as yours did.

His reassuring circles on your back made you tickle and you chuckled.

“I missed you so much.”

“Did you miss me more or my fingers?”

You rolled your eyes and slapped his chest. “You know what I mean.”

Geto peck at your lower lip, laughing out loud now. “I know, love. But we’re not done here yet. Remember what you said earlier?”

The dull ache between your legs reignited.

“What are you- Oh.”

You huffed that and the world suddenly spinned. Or maybe it was just Suguru that turned you around so that you were now under him. Well, for a good second before he rose to his feet and raised a finger.

When he turned it clockwise two times, you bit your lip. “You do really want me dead tonight.”

“Not really. Just fucked out of your mind.

Come on now, I’m starving.”

Out of breath, you locked eyes with Geto’s as you did as instructed: resting the elbows on the couch, you knelt on the ground and spread your legs for the man in front of you.

He relished in the view of your sopping wet cunt for a moment, but that wasn’t exactly what he wanted so he took the matter in his own hands.

“More like this, doll.”

His arms encircled your waist and pulled you up effortlessly. He was really strong and didn’t take the bother to hide it, especially with you.

He almost tossed you on the sofa but caught himself in time. Your head turned to look at him, but Suguru placing your arms over the back of the couch distracted you. Tits pressed against it, you hummed in discomfort and he awarded you with a little smack on your ass. This one was going to be brutal.

“Spread your legs for me.”

Demanding but in a hurry.

He really was a breath away from losing control.

Your knees almost gave in when you did but braced yourself for what was going to happen next. However, you almost jumped out of your skin at the feeling of Geto’s slightly cold tongue piercing on your clit. He must’ve got rid of your panties at some point, because when his hands flew to your ass, there was nothing covering it. His long nails dug in and kneaded the supper flesh as his tongue spread your lower lips wider for him to straight out moan on your pussy.

You weren’t going anywhere.

“Fuck.” he whispered and exhaled where streams of juices dripped down your inner thighs. “I missed this.”

“More than me? And here I thought I was the only one at fault.”

You couldn’t see it, but he grinned. “Touché.”

And with that, he went fully ballistic.

Licking a few strips on your things, he proceeded to lap up your wetness while you whined, almost lurching forward to escape his roughness. But his hands pressed harder on your body, keeping you in place. The next day your ass would’ve been covered in red marks.

Nothing compared to the scorching, hard kiss Suguru left on your clit. At that your knees turned to jelly. You were about to faint on him.

“S-stop playing.”

Another kiss, this time on your ass. Then he bit it.

“And where’s the fun in that?”

Despite his words, he stopped teasing and quickly pulled one of your legs over his shoulder. Your eyes widened in surprise and a loud, pleading whimper escaped you. “Suguru.”

His name rolled off your lips beautifully and the dark-haired man sighed.

And with that, he started to devour you.

He took half of your pussy in his mouth and sucked on it, making your heart stop. Breathing, too, became challenging but you pushed through the moment even when Geto grunted and pushed his tongue in you.

You let out a weak “nnngh” as he slightly tilted his head to better delve in your cunt, reaching all those spots that always had you screaming in the pillow. Now you did so in your hand, biting it until you spilt blood as Geto kept up his crazy momentum.

Feeling him going in and out of your pussy while his fingers worked your engorged clit once more ― God, it felt amazing.

Suguru slapped your ass a second time and you pushed your hips towards him. His satisfied chuckle boosted your ego, so the next move to do was to turn your head to the side and watch as he looked at you.

“It’s too much, I can’t. I-”

You raised onto an elbow to steady yourself and the man slapped you again.

Harder.

Exhausted already, you sank your free hand in the softness of his hair and yanked at the strands as you eventually fucked yourself on his tongue. Lazily but hard, because the recoil in your stomach was back and you yearned to cum into his mouth. Suguru wanted the same and pushed you to jerk your hips. Each time you suffocated him, his nose brushed against your clit and his groans went straight to your pussy, covering his tongue and chin with fresh, new waves of clear juices.

“I-I’m coming.”

Your release was more powerful than the first one and you came with a strangled moan echoed by Suguru who just held you down as you clenched and twitched around his tongue. The moment he sensed you going limp against the couch, he turned to kiss the leg perched on his shoulder and let it go, holding you in his arms. His chest collided with your back and you sighed, satisfied, as he left a trail of soft kisses in the crook of your neck, whispering sweet nothings.

To say you were spent was an understanding.

Quite the opposite of him, judging by his erection poking at your ass.

You went to reach out and palm him through the jeans but Geto caught your hand and brought it to his mouth, planting light kisses on every juncture, every knuckle his lips could touch.

“I told you I’d be the only one eating tonight, doll. Don’t worry about me.”

He got up once again and helped you turn around. Now you were sitting on the couch and he fell to his knees to rest his face on one of your thighs while his dominant hand drew silly little patterns on the other.

Suguru stared at you from below with hearts flickering in his eyes, sweat licking his body and lips stretched in a smile. You suddenly felt your chest heavy and bent down to kiss him, and the strange feeling went away under Geto’s hand, harboured behind your neck. It was such a delicate, wholesome kiss that you curled your feet in response, inhaling his scent in as it went on.

Gojo Satoru might’ve been the world, but Suguru was your world.

His soft lips were on your collarbone when he said:

“I think Judas would be a cool name to use on stage.”

“Don’t you dare.”

#voice of cassandra #geto suguru smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #geto smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto x reader #geto x you #jujutsu kaisen smut

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uroboros-if · 9 days

Note

Your answers are always so thoughtful and you’re very kind for offering to help people with coding and such! I also love how direct you are about getting inspired by people’s questions and ideas. I don’t know you, but I’m sure you’re a joy to be around. I hope you have a lovely day/night 💜

Ah, thank you for your sweet words!! All I'm doing is receiving people's kindness and consideration -- it's more profound that not only do people see my work, but take the time out of their day to ask about it and even provide me feedback. People taking interest in my work inspires me tremendously, and I'm happy that it allows them to partake in the creative process in some way! It's crazy someone wants to know more about what I've made; it's sincerely the highest honor any artist can receive.

And anyway, I find that I really enjoy helping people for selfish reasons. I like knowing that I helped in some way in making someone's work great! It also makes me giddy that people ask me for help because they think highly of me. So, if you ever have questions, let me know!!

Your words mean so much to me, and you also took your time to let me know. It surprisingly takes a lot of courage to do so, even if it's nice! I know I've hesitated so often to say a compliment. But I really appreciate it!! ❤️ Thank you so much for your kindness!!

#mistytalks #asks #anon #i feel bad answering these but i also dont want to let it go unappreciated!

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multi-fandomlovers-world · 1 year

Text

141+ Colonel Konig With An S/O That Works IT In Marine Corps

TW: Fluff, Sfw

Not my gifs--------All supported by Tumblr

Requested By: Anon

N/A: I had no idea how to write this but I really tried my best. I hope it doesn't suck lol

Reblogs And Comments Are Highly Appreciated!! :)

Simon "Ghost" Riley:

Ghost knew from your file and when you told him, he wasn't surprised but could see how dedicated you were to your job

He'll just listen to you on what you do

Lowkey, he loves listening to your voice. It's comforting to him

You had an opportunity to show him what you do and he thought he was pretty cool what you do

"You're amazing at this, love"

He'll say as he thinks about going to Price to have you join the team. He believes you'll be great to the team (also because he wants you there and wants to see you 🤭

He might end up just staring at you the whole time

He won't ever ask questions. He just listens to you the whole time, with small "mhm" or "mm" so that you know he's listening (he's honestly more focused on you)

John "Soap" Mactavish:

John didn't know until you told him about your job. He thought it was actually pretty cool what you do

He'll end up asking questions and you tell him without him getting confused

He admires how much you love your job and how well you do

Like Ghost, he also thought about bringing you onto the team. He thought you'd make a great asset to the team (also because he wants to spend time with you)

John ends up getting lost while staring at you (to him, you are gorgeous)

While you're explaining something to him, he cuts you off by kissing you softly. Making you smile into the kiss

"I'm very impressed, Bonnie. You truly are amazing"

Most of the time, he's listening to you but Lowkey, getting distracted looking at you the whole time

John "Captain" Price:

He already knew from reading through your file. He was impressed by your work and how well you managed to get things done quickly

You explained to him a bit more on how everything is handled and how much I

He listens to you the whole time while walking with you

He ended up calling Laswell, telling her that he wanted you on the team because your stats were good and he couldn't pass it up (also he loves you so he wants you around more often)

"You are wonderful at this stuff, love. You don't suppose I could have a talk with your captain or Colonel?"

He does and you end up joining his task force

He kisses you softly and is glad you are on his side

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

Gaz knew already (He overheard Price talking about you in his office), he thought it was cool and interesting

He came and asked you questions, like what you do, how things operate, etc

He invested and listened carefully as you explained everything that you do

After explaining, he comes up and kisses you softly as you hold the sides of his cheeks

"You truly are something, aren't you? Thank you for showing me and telling me"

He thinks you'd be great on the team but he understands if you want to stay where you are working.

(let's be honest, he just wants you on base so he has someone to spend time with and love on)

"Colonel" Konig:

Like Price, he already knew your stats and read your file. He thought you'd make an excellent recruit to the team

When he met you, he was a bit stunned but he thought you were so beautiful

He's impressed by your work but he stutters over his words trying to talk to you (he gets nervous but it's ok we understand)

"Maus, I'd take you on my squad any day"

As you were explaining things, he ends up being more distracted by looking at you

He wanted you on his squad so he can spend time with you (also crushing on you hardcore)

He kissed your hand before leaving your work. He's already made up his mind that he wants you by his side and on his team.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-)

A/N: Thanks for Reading!!! Feel free to drop any requests

#cod mw2 #mwii #cod mw2 x reader #cod x reader #cod x you #cod x y/n #mw2 imagine #mw2 x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #mw2 konig #call of duty modern warfare

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mint-yooxgi · 5 months

Text

Fight or Flight - Yandere!Redcap!Mingi X Tall!Chubby!Reader

Fae!AU & Yandere!AU - Part of the CoDN Thrill of the Hunt Collab

Genre: Fantasy, Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Pairing: Mingi X Reader

Words: 7,327

Rating: Mature - 18+ MDNI

Warnings: Please read the warnings carefully, as this is a very heavy story dealing with many dark topics. This is also all of the warnings for this fic as it is one long one shot that I had to split into multiple parts, and I'm too tired right now to individually categorize all of these warnings to their respective parts. 8 ft tall Mingi. Slow burn. Violence: depiction of a massacre, a deer being slaughtered, as well as physical, verbal, sexual, and emotional, both alluded to and not. Blood and gore. Abuse: physical, emotional, verbal, and sexual, both alluded to and implied. Assault: physical, and sexual, both alluded to, implied, and attempted. OC has a really rough past, really this isn't for the faint of heart. Whipping, both alluded to, and done. Mentions of branding. Heavy themes of possession and ownership. Deception. Arson. Really, there's a lot of dark subject matter. Mingi falls hard and fast, thus, he simps a lot for the OC, but it's not a story written by me if Mingi doesn't simp for the OC. The reader is mentioned to be both tall and chubby, but it is not mentioned often, so it shouldn't disrupt the flow of the story when ready if you are not tall and/or chubby. I think that's everything, but if I missed something, please let me know! Smut: Biting/marking, outdoor sex, fingering (fem. rec), oral (fem. rec), hand job (male rec), come eating, overstimulation, Mingi has a dig bick, sex in a spring, really, it's very soft in comparison to the subject matter. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

P.S. If there are any spelling or grammatical errors, please ignore them. I did my best through many rounds of editing, but some are liable to still slip through.

A/n: I am SO sorry this took me LITERALLY forever to complete. I meant to have this out so much earlier, and actually posted on time, but it turned out much, much longer than I ever anticipated it being. I'm really proud of how this story turned out, and I didn't want to split it into multiple parts because I felt it would take away from the story as a whole. I'm super excited for you all to read this one, as I had a tremendous amount of fun writing it, and I really hope you all love Mingi's and OC's journey as much as I do. Huge shoutout and thanks to @anyamaris and @kwanisms for listening to me ramble and rave about this story both before and during the writing process, and for always encouraging me while writing! Also, huge thank you to @sanjoongie for being so patient and understanding with me as I write this all out in full. I hope you all enjoy! As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Summary: Out of one horrible situation and into another, the cycle of abuse never stops. You've lived with monsters your whole life. So, what's one more?

P.P.S. Please don't let this flop guys. If you enjoyed it, please reblog!!!

Mini Masterlist

An annoyed sigh leaves his lips at the incessant chatter he hears around him. Low whispers rise in volume until the dull buzz of voices consumes him, interrupting his post meal relaxation. Irritation mars his features, his brow tugging downwards as he pulls the broken sliver of bone he had been using to pick at his teeth with out of his mouth.

“What is with your incessant whining?”

All Mingi had wanted to do was relax after dinner. In peace, within the confines of his makeshift encampment at the heart of his battalion, but it seems there’s been a commotion at the far edge.

“Humans, General.” One of his underlings, a vice-captain under his command, Darius, hisses. “They say they want to make a deal.”

Mingi scoffs, rolling his eyes, “Not too bright, are they?”

“When have humans ever been known to be smart?” Darius snickers.

Mingi heaves a long sigh, standing to his feet. “Given the length of this interaction, I can’t trust any of you to be competent enough to end this quickly.”

“They’re persistent, General.” He replies, flinching back as Mingi turns his sharp-eyed gaze to him.

“You let them think their words had any merit of importance to us.” The redcap general snaps. “No wonder they’re being so uncooperative.”

Striding through the encampment, the whispers finally come to a halt. A dead silence surrounds his soldiers as Mingi strolls through their ranks, eyes zeroing in on the small gathering of frail humans. Darius rushes along behind the proud general, whom stands a good eight feet tall. The tallest amongst his redcap companions.

A red sash is tied around Mingi’s bicep, alerting all to his rank within the gathered redcaps. There is a clear air of respect the others hold for him as he walks passed, holding his head high, no falter in his steps. Some even go so far as to look upon him in awe while others incline their head out of respect.

Reaching the edges of his encampment, Mingi scowls. “What’s the big idea here?”

“Ah, General!” Lias turns to him, a malicious grin tugging at the younger captain’s lips. “These humans insist on making a trade with us.”

“How did they even find us in the first place?” Mingi darts his gaze over to the three standing before him, just over the threshold of their protection line.

A woman seems to be holding another in her arms. The one with her head down doesn’t say much, but the one holding her trembles as she meets Mingi’s gaze. The male, slightly taller than the woman being held, stands a little straighter.

“We know mushroom rings will bring us where we want to be, or rather, to whom.” He replies, almost defiantly. “You just so happened to be the closest in the area.”

“Why are you wasting our time?” Mingi growls, teeth bared over much too sharp fangs.

“Please,” the woman holding the other in her arms seems desperate as she attempts to take a step forward.

That’s when he notices: the tall women is unconscious, being held up by the other. He quirks a brow, unaware a frail human such as the small one could ever be so strong.

“We just want to make a deal.” The man states, rather firmly.

Mingi’s gaze darts between the two humans.

“They want us to take their daughter for them.” Lias snorts, Darius laughing along with him. “As if we would care for such a useless mortal.”

“We know a little about your kind.” The woman continues. “Please, we know she’ll be better off here. We don’t want anything in return, just her safety.”

“She can earn her place.” The male adds. “She can look after herself, just please, take her with you.”

“We’re not about to gain something you don’t want.” Mingi retorts harshly, crossing his arms over his chest. “She has no use to us.”

“That’s not it at all.” The male is quick to shake his head, attempting to take a step towards the gathered redcaps only to be greeted by snarls and snapping fangs. He freezes. “Please-“

“We don’t need one of your kind slowing us down.” Mingi states, narrowing his eyes at the way the unconscious woman sways slightly. Honestly, he’s surprised this woman hasn’t fallen over yet, or caused the other holding her up to collapse under her seemingly dead weight.

“She won’t slow you down!” The woman is quick to protest.

“Watch your tongue, mortal.” Darius snaps. “This is no ordinary general you’re speaking to.”

The woman bows her head, cowering back and holding the other tighter to her chest. Though, due to the height difference, it looks quite awkward. A fact only echoed by the snickers Mingi can hear echo out behind him.

“Oh, come on,” Lias tilts his head slightly, a mischievous gleam in his gaze. “This could be fun. We could always use another pack mule.”

Some more snickers are heard from around the area, along with the snapping of jaws in agreement. The harsh clicking of fangs only rises in sound, and Mingi can smell the spikes of fear from the two conscious humans. A taste he absolutely revels in.

“The human would be safe with us from whatever outside forces you’re referring to.” Lias continues, his lips stretching widely over all too sharp teeth.

Mingi spares a glance around at his men, noting their sudden change in attitude. The eager gleams he sees throughout the crowd have him heaving a sigh.

“Very well,” he turns, beginning to walk away from this whole matter. He’ll let his men have their fun, and with any luck, the human will be dead come morning. “She’s your responsibility, though. If she survives.”

A cheer rises up through the surrounding redcaps as the tall women gets torn from the other’s arms and dragged across the protection barrier. Mingi thinks nothing of the way a faint smell of blood rises on the air, knowing his men are probably already having their fun after bringing the human properly into their realm. The other two have already been sent back, their memories altered forever. If they even remember having a daughter at all would be a miracle.

Entering his own private tent, Mingi settles into his favourite chair. Kicking his feet up onto a little stump, he leans back, relaxing into the evening chill that begins to settle over the land. They’ve still got a long ways to go to return to their keep, the scouting mission having taken a lot out of them. The rogue redcaps they had been hunting have all been dealt with. Traitors, every last one of them. The fight they had put up was gruesome, but as always, Mingi and his men came out on top.

Despite it all, some of his men still have energy to burn as he hears the familiar hooting and hollering of his subordinates last long into the night.

***

The next day, Mingi wakes to the encampment practically all cleaned up. Some of his men are finishing last minute preparations for travel, their bags packed and stored for easier maneuvering. All that’s left is to secure his own lodgings for the next leg of their journey.

“The human finally woke up.” Darius informs Mingi as he steps to the head of the line.

“She’s not dead?” Mingi quirks a brow, barely bothering to scan the gathered ranks to see if he can spot the women he saw last night.

“We figured we could use her for some entertainment-“ at Mingi’s sharp glare, Darius stops himself. “She’s surprisingly stronger than she looks. We’ve loaded her with a few packs and told her to carry them for us, or else she won’t like the outcome.” The vice-captain shrugs. “She complied.”

Mingi hums to himself, turning towards the direction they’ll be setting off in in a few minutes. He finds it odd for a human to be so complacent. All of the stories he’s heard contradict such simplistic actions. He was expecting screaming, and an attempt to run the first moment she regained consciousness.

Even more shocking is the fact that you’re still alive.

“Don’t let it go on too long,” Mingi shoots him a look out of the corner of his eyes. “Have your fun, but make sure she doesn’t slow me down.”

“Of course, General.” Darius nods, saluting him before running off to finish some last minute things.

Quietly, Mingi observes his battalion. He can see Lias barking orders at some subordinates to finish packing the rest of the camp quickly. Others appear to be scrambling about, and true to Darius’ word, Mingi spots that same tall woman from last night standing off to the side.

There’s nothing special about you. At least, from what Mingi can tell. You stand upright, spine straight with three packs carried on your figure. Their bulk simply adds to your own, nearly drowning you in their sheer size. Your face looks worn, and tired, but you move around where they instruct you to without complaint.

Mingi just hopes you can keep up with them.

A few minutes later, the redcaps are on the move. Multiple shoot you looks of disgust as they run passed, growling lowly in your direction. Some even go to far as to purposely run into you, spitting on you as they knock you over in your attempts to keep pace with the company.

It isn’t more than an hour into the morning when you start to fall behind.

Mingi heaves out a sigh, smelling the faintest bit of blood again in the air. A scent not uncommon in a group of redcaps, given their premise. Though, what truly annoys him is the subtle limp you attempt to hide as he marches over to you at the very rear of his guard.

Again, his men part for him silently. The simple power he exudes enough to silence even the rowdiest of the bunch.

“Are you that incompetent that you do not know how to walk properly, mortal?” He sneers, irritation clear on his features.

“I can walk just fine.” You reply bluntly.

“Then, keep up.” He snaps, turning so as not to waste another word on you for the moment.

With Mingi’s back to you, he fails to notice the harsh glare you send his way, but his subordinates do.

A harsh slap rings out through the forest, a dull thud heard soon after.

“You dare look upon our general with such vile contempt in your eyes?” Lias’ voice booms out through the surrounding redcaps, catching Mingi’s attention.

He freezes, turning to spare a glance over his shoulder.

There you rest, face down on the ground as you attempt to push yourself up. Your clothes are even more disheveled than before, dirt smearing your cheek. Yet, that harsh look still rests upon your face, even as the smell of blood becomes more prominent in the air.

“I didn’t ask for this.” You keep your voice low, but still clear enough for everyone around you to hear.

“Well, get used to it, Sweetheart,” Lias hisses, tugging you harshly back to your feet by the back of your neck. “You’re no better than a pet, now.”

You say nothing, instead opting to purse your lips. Your eyes narrow as you watch Lias retreat from you, hands fisted around the straps of the packs you carry as your whole body seems to tremble.

If Mingi didn’t know any better, he’d say you’re angry.

No… not angry. Disappointed.

Turning back to face front, Mingi decides to ignore you for the rest of the day. You’re not his responsibility, and how his subordinates treat you is truly none of his concern. Really, if it were up to him, he would have sent those two other humans bargaining for you to join them here in the fae realm packing. Perhaps he should have made an example of you all when he had the chance. Only, now, he’s stuck with you, and he’ll have to learn to deal with it, for the sake of his men. It’s not like you’re the only human he’s ever dealt with before.

Luckily, for the rest of the day, travel does not get halted again. You manage to keep up just fine, only falling behind once more near sunset. Mingi had wanted to travel for longer this day, covering more distance and hearing no complaints from neither you nor his men.

The faster they get home, the swifter he can deal with the mess that is you.

Mingi wants nothing to do with you. All you are to him is a pathetic little human. So frail, he could break you with the flick of his wrist. His eyes narrow on your figure as he sees you collapse against the side of a tree, none of his underlings sparing you any supplies as they set up for the night.

No food is offered to you, but you manage to scrounge some water. Your throat burns, and your feet ache as if they’re ready to fall off at a moment’s notice. The stitch in your side is finally calming down, and you’re just grateful none of these fae have ordered you to help them set up camp for the night. No, they stated they didn’t want you touching anything, or doing something wrong, and for once, you’re thanking your lucky stars for such a harsh verdict.

Lightly, you rub at your leg, right where you know that fresh wound still resides. It’s not a deep cut, but twisting wrong, or moving around too much aggravates the scar. Not to mention your limp which has returned even worse than before, due to the speed at which you’re expected to move.

Despite it all, you don’t say anything. No, you learned the hard way what talking back meant. Though, that might just be your one salvation through this all. Perhaps tomorrow you’ll see how far you can push these redcaps, and discover if their nature really lives up to their legacy.

For now, you settle deeper against that tree. It’s late, and you are exhausted. Sleep is one of the best things for you now, especially since there’s no way you can return to the life you previously once had. Thinking back on it now, you don’t know if you’d ever want to.

Not that you really ever had a choice.

The next morning brings another early start, you being commanded to carry even more than yesterday on your back. The only saving grace is that it seems the speed at which the band you’re travelling with has lessoned, but that doesn’t stop your whole body from aching.

Two more days pass like this, insults thrown at you by the surrounding redcaps, only for them to take out their amusement on you by either scratching you by ‘accident’, spitting on you, or pushing you to the ground. You manage to get some food, but it’s both rotten and vile. You’re honestly surprised your body hasn’t given up on you, yet.

You start to complain, but to your relief, or rather, disappointment, no one bothers to take your whining seriously. That, or they’re quick to shut you up, but not in the way you so desperately hope.

It’s around midday when you feel yourself lose your footing. The sun is shining brightly in the sky above your head, a few clouds drifting lazily by as you tumble harshly to the ground. The worst part is, you end up landing badly on your injured side. Unluckily for you, both that scar and your bad ankle are on your right leg which just so happens to land awkwardly on top of the root you tripped over.

You attempt to keep them at bay, but the sudden sharp pain you feel shoot up your leg sends tears to your eyes. You can practically feel your cut tear itself anew, a dampness seeping into the material of your tattered pants. Your breathing is heavy, and you can hardly force yourself back onto your hands, your entire body groaning in protest. Every ache pulses through you with each heartbeat, and in the back of your mind, you wonder if this is truly the end.

“What’s the hold up this time?” You hear a stern voice huff out above your head.

Mustering enough energy, you tilt your head upwards at the approaching figure. There’s a brief moment where the sun blinds you, filtering through the branches in such a way that burns your vision with a bright light until a shadow looms over you. Blinking reveals the redcap’s general standing before you, a look of pure ire marring his features as he glares down at you.

“Get up.” He growls, not even bothering to nudge you with his foot. You’re too far beneath him to bother.

A sad attempt is made by you once more before you’re collapsing on top of your weakened arms.

“I. Can’t.” You manage to get out through gritted teeth, squeezing your eyes shut through the pain.

Mingi snorts. “Pathetic.”

With a roll of his eyes, he storms away from you, barking out orders to set up the encampment. From what you can hear, he plans to move out during the night.

They need to stop to eat, anyways.

Insults are hurled your way by various underlings, some even going so far as to step on you as they walk passed. It’s as if you are worth no more than the dirt beneath their feet as you continue to lay there, weak and injured, just waiting and begging for death to finally claim you.

“You’ve really been a thorn in the general’s side ever since you joined us.” A voice to your left catches your attention.

“I didn’t ask to become a slave.” You retort is half grumbled into the earth, brow furrowing as you glare in the voice’s direction.

A chuckle is heard from above you. “Last I checked, you weren’t actually bound to this group.”

Out of the corner of your vision, you see a male, or rather, what appears to be a male, crouch beside you. He appears a bit shorter than his companions, perhaps even an inch or two shorter than you, and that’s saying something.

“My name’s Windfel,” he says lightly. “I’ve never met a human before. What’s your name?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you huff, finally managing to push yourself upwards and shrug those packs off of your back.

A hiss escapes you as you accidentally apply to much pressure to your right side, hand grasping over where that reopened cut resides. The dull throbbing you can feel, mixed in with the sight of days old blood and dirt only has you wincing. The wound is more than likely infected, and probably has been for the past few days. Only, you don’t have anything to treat it with, and it’s not like you can go around asking for help.

“Oh, you’re more clever than we give you credit for.” He grins. “You must know that telling a fae your true name means they have complete power over you.”

“You’re the ones who assumed me incompetent in the first place.” Your retort is low, and almost immediately, you flinch, as if bracing yourself for an impact of some sorts.

Again, he only chuckles. “That we did.”

“Is there something you want, Windfel?” The question is a bit harsh, despite you avoiding his gaze.

“Not in particular at the moment,” he hums. “I’m simply satisfying a mere curiosity. I’ve read a lot about you humans, thanks to the experiments in the Latha Court.”

“You experiment on humans?” Your eyes widen, a surge of panic washing through you.

“Yes.” He replies, somewhat cheerfully with a nod of his head. “We learn a lot about your kind that way.”

“You’re despicable.” A shudder caresses your spine.

“So I’ve been told.” He grins. “I am a redcap, you know.”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice him tip a flat cap stained dark red in your direction.

“I’m aware.” Your answer is blunt as you attempt to stand to your feet. You don’t get very far, for you immediately fall back onto your ass as your arms give out beneath you.

A small ‘oof’ escapes you as you land on your right side, eyes squeezing shut as more tears spring up from beneath where you’ve always tried to hide them.

“You’re not looking so good,” he observes.

“Thanks for noticing.” A low grumble is all he receives in response as you attempt to push yourself upwards once more.

Another chuckle. “I like your sense of humour.”

A side-eyed look is sent his way curtesy of you, “If you want to call it that.”

“Come on, I’ll help you.” He goes to lift you to your feet.

Immediately, you cower away from him, a brief panic filling your gaze as you fixate on his hands.

“I have no intentions of harming you right now.” He replies, somewhat calmly.

“Why are you trying to help me?” You eye him cautiously.

He shrugs. “I’m bored.”

As much as you don’t appreciate his answer, you have no better options. Somewhat reluctantly, you allow him to help you to your feet, guiding you to a tent already prepped and ready. He lifts the flap, allowing you to stumble your way inside and sitting in a chair as per his instruction.

The tent is large enough to fit three people comfortable, appearing more spacious on the inside than from the outside. You suppose it has to do with the magic of the fae, considering they’re able to store everything and carry it so efficiently in such packs, no larger than what you’re used to calling knapsacks.

“You know, you really have caused a great deal of annoyance for our general since your arrival.” He says as he grabs a roll of white medical cloth from a little side table.

“I never asked for this.” You mumble, keeping your head down.

“I’m aware you were brought unconscious into our ranks.” Windfel replies. “Is there a reason for that?”

“Not that I’m obliged to tell you.” Your eyes narrow suspiciously, watching every movement he makes closely.

You highly doubt anyone will come to your aid if you decide to scream for help.

“Just making conversation,” he responds, lifting his hands lightly in front of himself in a shrug. “I’m not a healer, so all I’m willing to do is let you wrap that wound. If you’re lucky, you won’t have to dress it when we get back to the keep.”

You purse your lips, eyeing Windfel as he places the roll of cloth beside you. A moment later, and he’s moving around the tent, rummaging through his own pack and pulling out a fresh pair of clothes.

“What, exactly, is this ‘keep’ you all continuously talk about?” You ask, somewhat warily.

He completely ignores your question, tossing the spare clothes at you.

“I don’t use these anymore, and although we typically enjoy the smell of blood, we don’t enjoy when wounds fester.” His nose crinkles along with his words. “There’s a small stream about a quarter of a mile to the northeast. I’ll take you there once you’re ready.”

“You’re being awful nice to me for someone who doesn’t like my kind,” You observe, eyeing him carefully.

“I care about my general, and anything I can do to… lesson his burdens, I will.” Comes Windfel’s simple reply. “When you’re ready, I’ll be outside.”

You watch him step out the opposite flap of the tent he entered, brow furrowing as the material slaps shut. Shouts can be heard outside, along with the hustle and bustle of the rest of the encampment being set up. You bet the rest wouldn’t have even notice you moved from that tree, yet.

Tilting your head downwards, you look at the clothes in your hand, feeling the fabric between your fingers. It’s been far too long since you’ve gotten any type of new clothing. Back in the human realm, the only time you got a new piece of clothing was when- no. You shouldn’t be thinking about that right now.

Swallowing thickly, you look over at that roll of white medical cloth. As much as you don’t trust this redcap, this is the first ounce of kindness you’ve received in quite a long time. There’s a part of you screaming at yourself not to believe it, but there’s another part, a part much more vulnerable that clings onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, things are starting to look up for you.

Your life has never been worth much, but perhaps someone is actually starting to see value in you that has never been there before. Then again, you probably shouldn’t get your hopes up. They’ve fallen too many times for you to count.

Taking a deep breath in, you grab that roll of medical cloth. Carefully, you wrap it in the bundle of clothes from Windfel, and stand back to your feet. Though you wobble slightly, you’re able to steady yourself, and within a minute, you’re exiting through the same flap that redcap did only moments before.

A single nod is all you give him as you stand outside the tent. A single nod of which he returns, motioning for you to follow him deep into the woods.

***

The journey to the stream is slow, taking well over an hour to get there. The distance is much greater than you were expecting, and the path isn’t easy at all. As much as Windfel seems to be ‘helping’ you, he did not once offer you a hand through the rough terrain of the woods through your travels.

“Will there be enough time?” You ask, eyeing the trickling water at the edge of the bank.

“Relax,” Windfel huffs out lightly. “Knowing the general, he’ll probably spend at least another two hours resting. So, as long as you don’t take too long, we’ll be fine.”

You purse your lips in response, but say nothing.

“I have no interest in watching you bathe, either, human.” He says, turning so his back is to you. “So, you needn’t worry about that.”

“I’ve never had much privacy, anyways.” You grumble, but as soon as the words leave your lips, your eyes widen. Terrified, you glance at Windfel’s back.

Choosing to either ignore your statement, or you entirely, he stands there, unmoving, His back is straight as he gazes out into the woods in the direction you both came, paying no mind to even the sound of water trickling behind you.

You turn back around.

Darting your gaze to the stream once more, you notice how clear the water seems to be. The movement against the stones appears languid, a gentle breeze flitting through the trees in the next moment. It’s almost as if the stream is inviting you in, luring you into it’s pristine waters, and the longer you stare at its enchanting depths, the more you long to dip your feet into its calming waters.

“What’s the catch?” You grit your teeth, cursing yourself for being so stupid.

“You humans always think there’s some sort of trick to everything, don’t you?” Windfel chuckles, and suddenly, you feel his hot breath on your neck. You didn’t even hear him move. “I could push you in, if you like, but I don’t think that would bode well for your wound.”

Your spine straightens. “I can get in myself, thank you very much.”

“You are most welcome.” The way you can practically feel him smile against your back has a shiver running down your spine.

A moment later, his presence at your back lessens, and you find yourself able to breathe easier once more. You spare a glance over your shoulder to see him resting in that same spot as before, his back turned as he begins to hum a small tune to himself. Eyeing him cautiously for a few moments, you finally turn back around to face the stream, deciding that he won’t actually do anything to you. Besides, even you are starting to not be able to handle your own stench, and that’s saying something.

Slowly, carefully, you begin stripping yourself of your old clothes. The tattered shirt you wear gets tossed onto the ground beside the new one, your pants following shortly after. You have enough mind to leave your undergarments on, just in case Windfel decides to play a trick of some sort on you, or run away with both sets of clothes. You still need something to wear, and Windfel is still a man.

Men are never good at keeping their promises. You learned that the hard way.

Stepping towards the very edge of the stream, you take your time sitting down. Each movement is stiff, pain shooting through your right side as you finally get a good look at the cut on your upper leg.

The wound festers, dried pus caked on the edge. The cut itself is swollen, days old blood littering the skin around it. From how bad it looks, you’re scared to even touch it, but a creeping thought in the back of your mind keeps you inching towards the water with every passing second.

You’ve had worse.

Carefully, you dip your toes into the crystalline water. It’s a bit cool to the touch, and causes you to jerk back, surprised by its icy feel. Yet, it’s alluring in a way, as if it’s the softest of silk that has ever caressed your skin. A luxury you have never been afforded, and you take the time now to savour it, despite the chill that clings to your feet as you submerge them beneath the gentle flow of the stream.

In no time at all, you feel yourself get used to the water’s icy chill, sinking deeper and deeper until you’re fully sitting on the edge of the river bank. Being mindful of your leg, you angle yourself so you can lean towards the water, cupping your hands together in order to gather the cool liquid in your palms and clean your wound.

The first few handfuls sting, but you grit your teeth and bear it. With each handful of water, more and more of the dirt, grime, and blood is washed away, revealing the cut to have gotten longer over the past few days. All that running around must have strained it, and reopened the wound over and over again, leading to the edges widening, and the cut deepening.

No wonder your whole leg has been aching. You just hope the infection isn’t already in your blood. There’s no telling what may happen to you, then.

“Oh my, that looks bad.”

A voice from above your head startles you, and you nearly go toppling into the stream. Looking up with a hand clutched over your chest, your eyes wide in panic, you see Windfel leaning over you, inspecting your cut.

“A few more days and you would have had to cut it off,” he remarks casually.

You physically feel your heart drop, your eyes briefly shifting to your right ankle. You swallow thickly, a jolt of pain travelling all the way from your foot upwards to your hip as tears unwillingly spring to your eyes. Almost involuntarily, you begin rapidly shaking your head, protests falling from numb lips.

“I’m just shanking ya!” He laughs, boisterously at that. He even goes so far as to pat your shoulder a few times, wiping tears of joy from the corner of his eyes.

“You’re not very funny.” You whisper, expression hard.

Windfel blinks, “Geez, tough crowd.”

You purposely avoid his gaze, looking back out over to the opposite bank of the stream. Your lips are pursed in a thin line as you slowly manage to get your breathing under control. Even you can hear the thunderous pounding of your own heartbeat, so you sure as hell know that Windfel can, too.

“I thought you weren’t going to watch me.” You mutter, slowly turning yourself further into the stream.

“No, I said I had no interest in watching you bathe.” He remarks, matter of factly. “There’s a difference.”

“If you say so,” you mutter, slipping into the water and putting a little bit of distance between you and that redcap. Not that it would really matter, in the long run.

The chill of the water causes your body to stiffen for a moment, only for the entirety of your muscles to immediately relax. The chill morphs into a gentle caress, and as you sink down to allow the water up to your neck, you find yourself letting out a small, blissful sigh through your nose. Involuntarily, your eyes slip shut.

“Feels better, doesn’t it?” Windfel hums.

Your eyes shoot open, turning to look over at the redcap who is back to standing in his original spot, facing away from you.

“I-“ you swallow, keeping your voice low. “I haven’t had a chance to bathe like this in a long time.”

“Yeah,” Windfel snorts. “I could tell.”

He makes a gesture similar to fanning the air in front of himself, and you find yourself rolling your eyes. You even go to far as to splash water in his direction before you can stop yourself.

Even though not a single drop of water touches him, your eyes still go wide. Not a muscle moves as you stare at him, your heartbeat thudding once more in your ears.

“Damn, human, you really are uptight.” Windfel snickers. “As if a little water could hurt me. It’s nice when such creatures are playful. Adorable, even.”

“I don’t think many would agree with you.” You mutter, gently pushing yourself backwards and creating just a tiny bit more distance between yourself and him.

“You’re probably right,” he hums. “Though, we all can agree on liking to be amused.”

“You confuse me.” You state blankly, rubbing at your skin lightly beneath the water and washing away any excess dirt and grime you can see.

“The feeling is very much mutual, human.” He replies. “I bet if you lived on your own as long as I have in the wild, you’d feel the same way.”

“Oh, yeah,” you hum, clearly not convinced as you dunk your head under the water briefly. “I’m sure.”

“Oh, come on! You’re telling me you’ve never lived in the woods before? Never fought for your own survival all by you little lonesome?” Windfel’s voice is slightly mocking, and you know he’s probably only trying to get a rise out of you.

Unfortunately, though, it’s working.

“I think you and I have two very different definitions of survival.” You say, scrubbing a bit harder at your skin.

“Perhaps that is true,” he hums once more, as if considering your words. “But come on, you can’t tell me you’ve never wanted to know what it’s like to live on your own.”

“How do you know if I’ve lived on my own or not?” You retort, eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion.

“I don’t.” Windfel shrugs. “From what those of us who care enough to read about your kind can gather, it’s observed that you usually go out on your own once you reach a certain age.”

“And you’re one of those that have read about my kind?” You quirk a brow.

The longer you spend talking with Windfel, the more you seem to ease into the conversation. Though the water continues to feel nice around you, you also decide that it’s time to remove yourself from the stream so you can quickly dry off and make it back to the others. The last thing you need is for something to happen, or for you to finally face the wrath of a redcap.

At this point, that may just be a blessing.

There’s almost a slight tug at the back of your mind. With each step you take towards the bank and your awaiting clothes, a small voice tells you to stay. The water seems to be caressing your entire body, becoming denser around you with each step. It’s almost as if the stream is trying to hold you down, to force you to not leave its waters. Yet, despite it’s almost enchanted callings, you persist, managing to pull yourself out of the crystalline water and back onto the side of the bank.

The consequences of staying far outweigh the rewards in your mind.

You fail to notice how Windfel’s brow quirks in surprise, but he continues on the conversation as if nothing is wrong.

“I’ve read a few things, yes.” He confirms. “Knowledge is power, or haven’t you heard?”

“Power is power, no matter where in the world.” You grumble, flicking off as much excess water on your body as you can before beginning to wrap your upper thigh with that medical cloth. Once finished, you tie it off quickly, but not tight enough that it will hurt you even more than you already are. A moment later, you stand back to your feet.

“Spoken like a true scholar,” Windfel teases lightly, his back still turned to you.

Slowly, you begin pulling on the clothes he leant you. The pants are a little short around the ankles, but they fit surprisingly well. Considering the size difference between the both of you, you’re surprised the shirt even managed to pull over your head, but it’s loose, and you’re grateful for the soft material that graces your skin.

“Still, you should definitely try living on your own at some point.” He remarks casually. “There’s no feeling quite like freedom.”

Your whole body freezes, gaze slowly trailing over to where Windfel stands, now at the edge of the wood. He seems to be holding a bundle in his hands, and when you look down, you realize that it’s your old, raggedy clothes.

“I wouldn’t know.” You state, rather firmly as your eyes narrow at the redcap across from you.

“Oh, yes, well,” he finally turns back around to face you, a grin tugging at his lips to reveal all too sharp fangs. “About that…”

“If you’re going to kill me, get it over with.”

Your words clearly catch him off guard, for now it’s his turn for his eyes to widen in shock.

“My dear, why would I want to kill you?” He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’ve done nothing but be forced upon us since the start. I may be a monster, but I’m not unreasonable.”

“Like I’ve never heard that one before.” You mutter, rolling your eyes.

Again, your breath hitches as soon as the words leave your lips, and you find yourself flinching backwards away from Windfel instinctually.

He frowns, but doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he says, “I told you. I care about my general and how much your presence burdens him. It’s easier this way if you just disappear.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You want me to disappear, but not kill me?”

“For the most part.” He blinks, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“How do you expect me to do that?” You frown, doing whatever you can to hide the clear exasperation in your voice.

“Run away.” He states.

“Excuse me?”

“Run away.” He repeats with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “I doubt they’ll even notice you’re gone.”

Now, it’s your turn to blink at him. Once. Twice. Three times in disbelief as you cannot keep your mouth from falling open in shock.

“You’re shitting me.”

“I think the whole point of you bathing was for that to no longer be the case.” He says smartly. “I told you. You’re a burden to our general, and if I can relieve that burden from his shoulders, I’ll do whatever it takes. You’re not currently being hunted, so there’s no reason to kill you right now.”

“And where will I go?” You ask, incredulously. “I have nothing-“

“Find the Latha court, I’m sure those human lovers will take you in.” He cuts you off, a slight twitch to his brow. “Go that way,” he points off to your left with a clawed finger. “There’s a small town. I’m sure someone will give you a hand.”

“Like you did?” You quirk a brow, eyeing Windfel carefully.

“Exactly.” He nods. “Now, you best be on your way, little mortal. My patience is starting to wear thin.”

Though the last part of his words he says in a cheerful voice, the way his eyes gleam in the light of the setting sun unnerves you.

Without waiting for another chance, you take the one presented to you.

“I better not see you around again.” Windfel hums, and you can hear him beginning to trudge in the opposite direction that you are. “You won’t like it if you do.”

A shiver caresses your spine at his words, and you find yourself picking up your pace. Reaching the opposite end of the little clearing where the stream is, you quickly spare a glance over your shoulder. Windfel is nowhere to be seen, and you do not know if it should relieve you, or terrify you. All you do know, is that you have to put as much distance between yourself and that gang of redcaps as you can. To start, you just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

The trek into town is a lot easier than you thought it would be. It only takes you about forty minutes to reach the outskirts, and with every step, you seem to gain better footing than before. The ache in your leg is dulling, and your head is the clearest it’s been in weeks. You don’t trip over any roots, or stumble over any rocks, either. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say things are actually starting to look up for you.

That’s when it hits you.

Is this even reality anymore?

Windfel could have cast a glamour over you. You could be under some sort of spell, or undergone some weird magic while bathing in that stream. You have no way of knowing what is true or not, unless you talk to someone. Even then, your chances of them tricking you are high, but it may be the only way to tell what is true or not.

Standing at the edge of the town, you do a quick scan of those you can see. The sun has already set, and the faint glow of lanterns casts a warmth around the surrounding buildings. There seems to be only a few people milling about, and honestly, you shouldn’t really call them people at all. From what you can gather, all these beings appear to faeries. Some have grand wings that sprout from their backs, ranging from feathered to those of the insect variety. Others, you can only discern from their height and pointed ears. The few flashes of razor sharp teeth aren’t that reassuring, either.

The only relief seems to be that all of the inhabitants steer perfectly clear of you. Save for one, who watches you fidget from across the way. His gaze dances with amusement, and you don’t know if that unnerves you more than if he were glaring. Long, dark hair is pulled back in a half-ponytail to showcase his sharp features. He sits on the edge of some steps leading up to what appears to be a shop of some sorts, his elbows resting on his thighs as he leans forward.

The moment he catches you staring, his eyebrows quirk curiously.

Turning away quickly, you curse yourself. You’ve always been used to blending in back home, that you didn’t realize just how much you’d stick out in the Fae realm. Perhaps you really are in over your head, but where else are you supposed to go?

A voice, smooth and deep, coming from behind startles you.

“Are you lost, Little One?”

#thrill of the hunt #cultofdionysusnet #mfu-net #yandere mingi #yandere ateez #mingi scenario #mingi imagine #ateez scenario #ateez imagine #kpop scenario #kpop imagine #yandere kpop #kpop au #fantasy au #chubby reader #tall reader #fae au

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gemsofgreece · 5 months

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Hello! Firstly, I wanted to thank you for the work you do on this blog. My mother's side is Greek and came to the US around WW2, and as I've gotten older and tried to learn about Greek culture, I've found that it's hard to find sources that aren't inundated with American pop-history. It's been really lovely being able to learn more from your blog for the past couple weeks.

Second is my question -- re: the pop history issue, I've noticed that people in the American queer community have a knack for "reclaiming" figures in history and mythology without always having an abundance of evidence for their claims. And like, I'm trans. Obviously the idea of some of things being true is cool, but it also feels disingenuous sometimes. Do you know of any good resources or books written by actual queer Greeks about either their contemporary experiences, or the history of queer people in Greece that isn't just conjecture?

Thank you again! Have a great day :)

Hello! It makes me so happy that you found my blog suitable to inform yourself on this part of your ethnic / cultural background. I hope the blog will keep being a useful source of information.

Because I am not going to lie, the way Greek history and culture, more like a snippet of it, has been almost forced into American pop culture is indeed through a disingenuous conjecture. Honestly, it's not so much a matter of accuracy per se. It's more that a niche piece of the culture has been taken and presented as almost the entirety of this culture, which eventually leads to tremendously false impressions, no matter how earnestly this niche part is explored. There is also the tendency to shape ambiguous evidence into unquestionable conviction.

I will attempt to explain why this can be a problem. Let's take the axiom - because it has reached the lengths of being treated as an axiom - "Ancient Greece was gay or Greece is gay or Greek culture was gay culture or Greece is / was a gay haven". If we really study Greek history and culture in its entirety, in a span of 3,500 years or more if we also take into acount the pre-Greek civilizations which eventually helped produce the Greek, while the existence of gay people (i.e Sappho), non-straight sexual practices (i.e erotic amphoras), ambiguous literary relationships (i.e Achilles & Patroclus?) and varied expressions of sexual desire observed especially in male deities are 100% well attested and recorded, they still comprise overall a very tiny part of the Greek civilization. Whereas it is often portrayed in western pop culture as the very essence of Greek civilization, exploration and studies of sexuality and gender identity throughout its history could amount to maybe a 1-5% of all documented knowledge associated to the Greek ethnos, its history and its legacy. Think of it this way; Greece happened to be in the epicenter of many formative achievements of humanity; spreading, contributing or improving on science, arts, extant religions and linguistics. It has been an area extremely ravaged by war because it has a very strategic position on the map. It has been in the core of three of the world's largest empires and it has been positively or negatively influential to all three (and the generator of one of them). There are so many things, struggles and achievements, to study and explore and draw from as part of your identity, that a constant foreign obsession and trivilization and sensualization of the sexual practices of people long gone eventually will start sounding disingenuous or lacking or even demeaning. Just like every individual aspires to be acknowledged and respected for more than just their sexual or gender identity (i.e skills, feelings, talents, achievements, personality), it is the exact same with culture and heritage. People want their culture to be appreciated in its entirety and not for a super niche area that is also exaggerated, if not exploited to serve foreign agendas, trends and marketing (because let's be real, not all have noble representation motives).

Okay, now I have to ask: do you know Greek? Because I can recommend you some sources, however Americans do not translate Greek works unless they are from 750 BC :)

Here's a quick heads-up:

The Greek society is a pseudopuritan society - one where people act like puritans when it comes to judging others but not at all when it comes to themselves. The gay male community has by far the biggest visibility nowadays. Lesbians come second. Other sexual orientations follow i.e bi, poly, pan. Gender (trans, non-binary, fluid etc) identities have less visibility. Asexuals also have near non-existent visibility. Most non-het non-cis people face problems in their families rather than in their studies or in urban environments. Non-cis people, especially AMAB people, might also face hardship in the workplace (like not getting easily hired).

Because the society is pseudopuritan, it tolerated and embraced and worshipped several LGBT people, except if they attempted to communicate their experience. Great composers and authors were openly gay and Greeks knew it and loved them, because they didn't explicitly involve their sexual identity in their work or because they didn't expose the pathogenies of the Greek society. If they had done that, the reception could have been different. Because of all these reasons, most of my sources will be from the perspective of gay cis men (the most visible LGBT+ community) and it will be mostly the great work and legacy they left behind, rather than their explicit documentation of the experience of living as LGBT+ in Greece.

LGBT poets and authors:

Constantine Cavafy (1863 - 1933), one of our best poets. This can be useful to you because his works are actually translated in English.

Napoleon Lapathiotis (1888 - 1944), openly gay in such times, he wrote a lot of erotic poetry.

Augoustos Korto (1979 - ), a married gay man, successful writer and activist, he has written extensively on the topics of death, depression, motherhood and love, often drawing from personal experience.

Kostas Tachtsis (1927 - 1988), poet, distinguished author and activist for gay rights during the Colonel dictatorship in the '70s. He suffered in his life and in his death as well. His murder has not been solved yet. He has written an autobiography and numerous novels with autobiographical elements. He was gay, either cross-dressing cis or maybe trans or non-cis (we don't know that back in time how exactly he identified) and had also been a sex worker for some time.

Napoleon Lapathiotis

Music:

Music won't give you direct information however it could be a way to bond with people you could connect with over similar experience.

Manos Hadjidakis (1925 - 1994), one of our two greatest composers and a rare genius, was openly yet "discreetly" gay, not out of shame but because privacy on all aspects of the human experience was absolutely essential and sacred to him. He was also an Oscar winner, although he would hate me for saying this (he threw his Oscar in the trashcan). Besides listening to his music, I would recommend watching interviews or listening to excerpts from his radio shows, because of the ease with which he could challenge anyone's intellectual capacity.

Sotiria Bellou (1921 - 1997), a lesbian or perhaps bisexual woman, she is worshipped for her unique voice, which became the ultimate symbol of the heavy-duty (underground at the time + now part of UNESCO's cultural heritage) rembetiko music genre.

TV Shows with representation:

Maestro in Blue on Netflix, a big part of the story is the romance of a gay couple suffering in oppressive families in the province

Milky Way, one of the main characters is pansexual and non-binary, and the actor is gay IRL. There is also a brief lesbian romance or a side narrative of supressed female homo- or bi- sexuality. This show will soon get in some international platform but I don't remember which one (not netflix), so keep it in mind.

Milky Way

YouTube:

There are a lot of LGBT+ people in Greek YouTube but my faves are:

ΚΡΙΜΑ by ZoePreTV: Zoe is a lesbian or bi herself (not sure but I know she's openly in a relationship with a woman) and she makes lengthy very informative quality podcasts with celebrities or everyday people, often belonging to marginalized groups, and they talk about their experiences. If you can understand Greek, this might be the best source for what you ask. I watched a fantastic episode with a trans woman and sex worker talking about her life. It is one of the greatest podcast episodes I have ever watched, hands down.

Eponimos. Zoe's best friend, who is an openly gay man, although he approaches matters of sexuality very delicately as he values his privacy a lot. He doesn't talk often about such matters (recently he did) but his channel is awesome for his lighthearted humour and the maturity of his positions. I love watching his content.

youtube

The podcast I mentioned.

LGBT+ Magazine: ANTIVIRUS. ANTIVIRUS also has this list with recent queer literature, featuring both Greek and foreign writers. Here is the link. It's in Greek though, like everything above...

Art: Yannis Tsarouhis (1910 - 1989), one of the most influential and successful Greek artists. He painted a variety of themes, he was inspired and developed Greek folk and Byzantine art, however he was also particularly notable for his love for the masculine physique and he established the classic image of the "Greek sailor" in art, theater and cinema internationally.

A great photo of Tsarouhis in his atelier.

I wouldn't consider myself well-versed in the topic, so I invite anyone who knows sources that could also ideally be easily accessible to the Anon, to give some recs in the comments. From my side, Anon, hopefully I was of any help.

#greece #europe #lgbt #lgbtq community #lgbtqia #queer community #representation #greek culture #discussion #anon #ask

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