#yourself up by putting people you claim to care about down.

[chronosdawn]

Attached - Alpha!Wriothesley x Beta!Reader

a/b/o AU, GN!Reader

A/N: I got the idea for this while working on another, longer a/b/o fic so instead of working on that like I was supposed to, I wrote this OTL

Word count: 1.3k

Content warnings: a/b/o dynamics, mild sexual content and themes (minors please DNI)

Not many got the chance to know the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide well. Certainly, almost everyone in Fontaine knew of him, and as the Fortress’s administrator, many people had some sort of contact with him, be they convicts of the Fortress or proprietors of businesses hoping to gain a foothold there.

But among those, very few got to actually know the Duke beyond his title and position, and when you’d first met him, you’d had no reason to think you’d be any different. Sure, you had been invited there by him personally, which was rare, but made sense once you’d learned he was looking to procure resources for some project that was being worked on in the Fortress—something you had a lot of experience doing for members of the Fontaine Research Institute.

Over the course of several meetings—and more than a couple of pots of tea—a tentative friendship had formed between you. One that had turned into something quite different when you’d accidentally stumbled into his office while he was in a rut.

And that, was how you’d come to end up in your current situation—seated in Wriothesley’s lap with your overnight bag discarded by the door to his room. You hadn’t expected this to become a regular occurrence when you’d first offered him your assistance, but for some reason the stubborn fool had refused to seek out an omega to spend his ruts with, even if you both knew that was what he actually needed.

He nosed against the back of your neck before going in with a gentle nip of his teeth, dangerously close to where your small beta scent gland lay.

“Careful,” you warned, “you know our agreement, nothing that can’t be taken back. I don’t want to be the reason your future omega ends up developing some sort of complex.”

Wriothesley stilled briefly before grazing his teeth over your nape once more. “What would you do if I did?”

“What do you mean?” You tried to turn around to look at his face, but the muscular arms around your waist kept you locked in place, pressed tightly against the firm planes of his chest.

“What would you do if I decided to put a claiming bite on you? Right now, you’re not in any position to stop me.”

“You wouldn’t,” you said with absolute certainty, even as he nipped at you again, harder this time.

“What makes you so sure?” His rut had come on enough that even you could smell the pheromones he was pumping out into the air, a rich leathery musk with notes of clary sage.

“I know you, you just wouldn’t.”

“You sound pretty convinced of that.”  He went quiet for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was barely audible as he muttered into your skin. “Do you even know what I was originally sentenced here for?”

“I do.” He’d never told you himself but you remembered reading about his trial in the newspaper your father had left out on your dining room table. “But that’s neither here nor there. You’re not the sort of person who’d force a yourself on someone, and I can’t imagine you ever being disloyal to your mate. Even if for some strange reason you seem reluctant to go out and find them.”

He let out a chuckle but there was no real humour in it. “You know, sometimes I wish you thought a little less highly of me.”

“If I didn’t think so highly of you, I wouldn’t be here, you know that.”

“Yeah, I do.” He went back to worrying at your neck, his mouth over your scent gland. Instead of biting down, however, he sucked at the skin in a way that was certain to leave its own sort of claiming mark, but one that would fade within a week. 

“You don’t seem to be in any hurry,” you noted, as he took his time littering your nape with hickeys, despite the growing hardness you could feel pressing against your ass.

“How long can you stay?” His hands began to wander slowly over your body, the heat of his palms burning through your clothes.

“A couple of days.” You let out a sigh, allowing yourself to enjoy the feeling of his touch while you could. “I’ve got a trip to Liyue scheduled to check on some ore shipments and it’s too late to rearrange it. Sorry I can’t be here for the whole thing; I should be able to help you through the worst of it though.”

“And when will you be back?”

“I’m not sure. Some of the merchants we’re dealing with are really dragging their feet for some reason. I should be back before your next one, although whether that’s really a good thing or not, I don’t know. Might have been a good incentive for you to actually seek out a more permanent arrangement.”

“I really wish you’d stop bringing that up.” One of his hands slipped underneath your shirt, sliding beneath your undergarments so he could give your nipple a firm squeeze. “What’s so wrong with this?”

You let out an undignified squeak and chastised him with a light slap to the thigh. “I know I sound like some nagging old aunt, but I just want you to find someone who makes you happy. Truly happy, not just sex.”

“And if I said you make me happy?”

“I can’t, not in the way deserve,” you said a little sadly, before putting the thought out of your mind altogether. It was best not to think about what ifs that could never be, it would only lead to hurt. “Now, what do you say we get a move on, before you get so wound up you tear straight through my clothes. Again.”

Wriothesley loosened his hold enough for you to turn around in his lap, fingers moving to undo the buttons of your shirt as he watched with rapt attention.

“With the way you’re so fond of telling me off, anyone would think you’re the alpha in this relationship.” He made no move to touch you, simply observing as you shed your garments one by one. You weren’t entirely sure how he was managing it, you could see the flush on his cheeks, feel the tension in his body—a piece of elastic a hair’s breadth from snapping. Still, if any alpha would have the self-control to hold themselves back during a rut, it would be him.

“Come on mister, it’s not fair to make me do all the work.” You moved to start helping him out of his waistcoat, his jacket having already been shed before you’d even entered the room.

“Alright boss,” he replied with obvious sarcasm, a smirk curling at his lips. With no warning, you were suddenly lifted and flung onto the bed, Wriothesley following you quickly after, caging you in with his body and leaving no hope of escape. “If you’re that eager, you don’t have to wait for me to go into a rut, you know, you can come here anytime. I’ve asked the staff at the front desk to let me know as soon as they see you.”

“It’s a tempting offer.” You helped him out of his waistcoat as he pulled off his tie and tossed it somewhere in the room. “But I’d hate to be the reason for a decline in the efficiency of management of the Fortress.”

“Always an answer for everything.” You didn’t get a chance to retort before his mouth was covering yours, hot and hungry as he ground his hips against your thigh. It would seem his control had finally failed him, as when you kissed back, he let out a satisfied growl from the back of his throat, fingers digging into your flesh as he tugged you into the position he wanted.

You simply let him, tangling your fingers in his hair as you braced yourself for what was sure to be a long and tiring—if enjoyable—affair.

[snekdood]

me and my boyfriend were having a conversation earlier about how creepy my dad is and how he 1 used to spy on my mom w binoculars in his car across the street after their divorce (she got a restraining order luckily) but also 2 i remember him threatening to kill my mom and her current husband and i said something about how "i used to be scared i'd see him outside of my window watching me, even though he would probably just go after my mom i was worried he might try to kidnap me-"

and then it all clicked for me. the reason zero is the way he is is bc of my dad. the reason my comic is the way it is is bc of my fucking dad!

[the-joy-of-knowledge]

25 Laws of power for women

Conceal your goals especially the ones that are appealing. Losing weight, reinventing yourself, marrying wealthy. Instead talk about your altruistic goals - to help children, invest in education, this will chase insecure people with vile intentions.

Do not give anyone your source of power: Was is a book that changed your life? a mentor? a movie? Never give up your secret to success. If forced to do say allude to God, the universe, the a random phenomenon

Use the patriarchy to your favor; we live in a world that is, only associate with men who have power, use that power for good.

Never appear too perfect but be selectively vulnerable when needed. Only share something that you will be comfortable saying. You might say “I forget my keys all the time,” “I don’t know how to perfectly park a car “. But never disclose something you are not comfortable with just because you are afraid of being perfect.

Maintain distance in relationships. Friends are the best and you need them. But if you feel that they are becoming too dependent, see them at your own will. But also the reverse could be the case. Your friend may keep a distance, and that is the way of life. You have got to move on from it.

Develop your own style that makes you unique, beautiful, and elegant. Avoid trying to fit in the crowd of people who claim to care less about their style yet have too many opinions about other women’s style

Avoid male friends at all cost, you will have male colleagues, male bosses, male acquaintances, business partners. Keep it that way. You do not want a Truman Capote divulging your secrets to the world. Do not keep a man who does not fit your standard.

You do not have to win at every game. Pick and choose what is best for you and leave room for others. And step down if you have attained that level of success, do not let the society do it for you.

Trust people but remember that we are all humans. So trust with discretion!

Confuse people with kindness; people are not always comfortable with beautiful and intelligent women. That power is too intimidating so confuse them by being genuinely generous, curious, kind, and passionate.

Keep your strong opinions to yourself.. if you support a movement, a way of life, do so silently.

We all have dirty laundry, wash them privately, don’t expose yourself. Remain silent when people try to attack you or shame you. Whatever is not confirmed is not true. You are the only one who knows all the truth about you.

Don’t attract pity or praise: People who pity you do not help you, in fact they might think that you are weak and could mock you at their annual gossipping meeting. And if you are doing things for the sake of praise you are wasting your time.

Choose yourself all the time; never put any one’s feelings above yours.

Trust your own intuition if you feel someone is being malicious towards you, giving you back handed compliments then you should let them go

Never speak bad of another woman. Do not lazy around gossipping. Keep your hands clean and your conscience clear.

Avoid women with low self esteem they will bring you down. For some reason they do not like seeing other women who are doing better than them

Be careful who you seek validation from. Not everyone needs to be pleased. If they are in no way capable of contributing to your life in the ways you prefer, then don’t ask them for their opinions or please them.

Do not compete with other women, if you do you are only putting them on a pedestal. You are making the the standard by which you measure your progress. If you do compete, begin digging your grave.

Do not give unsolicited advice, do not share the inner workings of your mind, If your mouth is very charitable you better start journaling.

Be well-rounded and interesting. It attracts people. It also keeps you busy because you are continually improving and learning. An idle mind is an easily subdued one.

Avoid women who want to live vicariously through you; they want to know who you know, shop where you shop, befriend who you befriend, wear what you wear.

Pay attention to the source of your discomfort; get rid of them. You tell them your dreams and they remind you of all your hindrances. They ask why are you dressed so fancy as though fancy isn’t subjective. They undermine you interests and goals. They will also be quick to bring you down because they are afraid of your potential.

Do not fear power or please power. When we see powerful people we try to hard to befriend them, to be close to them but you need to be comfortable without them. Don’t push yourself in the name of friendship, do not try too hard to be in their inner circle. Your independence of mind is the most important. Instead become a powerful woman, aloof to the presence of power but aware of its importance. Be an ingenious and intelligent and use your creativity to uplift yourself. When you do so it will be hard to ignore you. Even the powerful will become an ally.

Enjoy moments of solitude. Use that time to develop yourself, improve your body, learn new skills, create with your mind, read widely, become more elegant, then launch yourself.

Remember the most powerful women are the most intelligent. Inspired by Robert Greene's 48 Laws of Power. Use at your discretion.

[surftrips]

SWEET NOTHING

pairing: luke castellan x reader

summary: y/n comforts luke after he sees percy claimed by poseidon.

word count: 600+

a/n: y'all i know. how many more morally grey characters can i write fics for? i couldn't help it, he's so bf in the first two episodes so this takes place in a world where he’s done nothing wrong <3

You watched as your boyfriend’s face changed after seeing the newest camp member, Percy Jackson, claimed by his father, Poseidon. 

Luke wasn’t one of the unclaimed kids, but he might as well have been. His relationship with his father Hermes was a strained one, but he pretended like it didn’t bother him. 

But now, it was hard not to notice the sadness and frustration that had clouded Luke’s face as he watched the trident appear above Percy’s head. Before you could go over to comfort him, he had already run away from the scene. 

You decided to give him some space, figuring that he had gone back to his cabin. As the other camp members slowly dispersed, you looked around for Annabeth. 

Upon laying your eyes on the dark-haired girl in the crowd of people, you beckoned her over. 

“Hey! Did you see that?” she asked you, excitedly.

“Yeah, that was crazy!” you admitted. “How’d you know he was Poseidon’s?”

“I’ve been watching him.”

“Of course,” you smiled. Luke had told you about Annabeth's desire to find “The Chosen One.” 

“Wait- where’s Luke?” she asked, as if on cue.

“I was gonna talk to you about that- I think he ran back to his cabin.”

“What- why?”

“I think he had some feelings about Percy being claimed, if you know what I mean.” 

“Oh,” Annabeth replied, putting the pieces together. 

“Yeah, I’m giving him some space right now, but do you have any advice on how to approach this? I don’t want to upset him any more.”

“Look, Y/N, you’re his girlfriend. Just do your best to comfort him and I’m sure he’ll start to feel better.”

“I know, but you’re his sister! You know him best, what if I say the wrong thing?” 

“You can’t say the wrong thing. He loves you, Y/N. He just needs to see that someone is there for him.” 

“Okay, thank you, Annabeth,” you gave her a hug before heading in the direction of the Hermes cabin. 

You were relieved to find that the other campers had not gotten back yet. You gently pushed open the door and found yourself facing your boyfriend’s back sitting on his bed. 

“Luke?” you called out.

He turned to face you, hastily swiping at the tears that had fallen onto his cheeks. 

“Oh, sweet boy, come here,” you ran over to take him in your arms. He let his tears fall again, and your heart broke seeing him like this. You knew that he acted brave all the time, but deep down, he was hurting.

“Hey, it’s okay. Just let it out,” you attempted to calm him down. 

“Why doesn’t he care about me?” he cried.

“Baby, it’s okay. He doesn’t matter, alright? It has nothing to do with you.” 

“Yes, it does. Percy killed a minotaur and broke Clarisse’s spear and his dad just came swooping in.” 

“Look at me,” you pulled away to lift his face up. “You are so, so special. Anyone that knows you can say that. Hell, you’re the best swordsman in this camp. But you know what else? You’re kind, and caring, and you have all this compassion in your heart, despite it all. If he can’t see your worth in that, then that’s a reflection of him, not you.” 

Luke didn’t say anything, instead he worked on catching his breath as you continued to rub his back and lay kisses on his forehead. 

“Thank you,” he said after a moment, still sniffling. 

“For what, baby?” 

“For seeing me. And staying.”

“To know you is to love you, Luke Castellan,” you gave him another kiss, this time on his lips.

[cherubfae]

carrying you to bed || hazbin/helluva x reader

With Alastor, Lucifer, Charlie, Angel Dust, Husk, Loona, & Blitzø

tags: gn!reader, established relationship, fluff

Alastor

He lets out a deep sigh, staring down at you with slow blinks. "My love, surely that can't be comfortable for you" He has warned you time and time again not to spread yourself too thin with your tasks. Alastor appreciates how much of a good work ethic you have, but what is it worth if you don't have the strength to walk to your room? He picks you up as gently as he can, melding into shadow as he pops into your room. Carefully laying you down, Alastor will cover you up and with a gentle pat on your head before he takes his leave. Perhaps, next time he'll be tempted to rest beside you.

Lucifer

No wonder you hadn't answered him when he called your name. Here you were, fast asleep on his deep red chaise lounge using your folded arms as pillows. Lucifer picks you up bridal-style half-wishing you were awake so that you could see how strong he is! Another time, he thinks. Your rest is much more important than his ego (for now). "Sleep well, honey." He grins, wiggling beneath the sheets like an inch warm, his eyes sparkling with admiration. Placing a kiss to your head, Lucifer is quick to fall asleep.

Charlie

Honestly, she really does try her best not to squeal at the sight of you. You've been working insanely hard for the hotel-- it's no wonder you're so pooped out! She's careful with wiggling one arm beneath your back and hooking the other beneath your knees. She'll carry you to whichever room is closest: yours or hers. Maybe she'll be able to convince you to move into her suite soon. "Oh my gosh, aren't you just the cutest, honey?? I love you so much!"

Angel Dust

"Awww, sweets! Lookit ya! All tuckered out." He cooed in a hushed whisper, lightly booping your nose. His grin widens when it crinkles upwards. His middle set of arms pick you up, preferring to use his gloved ones to stroke back your hair softly. Leaning his cheek against your forehead, Angel carries you off to his room where an excited Fat Nuggets happily circles the bed in preparation for a lovely nap with his two favorite people.

Husk

Putting away the final glass beneath the bar's counter, his yellow eyes drift to your sleeping form at the end of the bar. You'd insisted on waiting for him to finish but all that work promoting the hotel on foot, searching for any sinners ready to be redeemed was a hard task. Husk fought back a smile. "You really do care about this stuff, dont'cha?" He asks despite knowing you won't answer. "Let's get ya to bed." Husk stretches his wings with a sigh before they fall slack. He lifts you into his arms and makes the trek up the stairs.

Blitzø

He'll bitch and groan about it, but he also won't let anyone else touch you when you're sleeping. Blitz will make some claims about how the person trying to touch you probably has cooties or a viral infection or something. Not happening. He's quick to scoop you up into his arms, eyes narrowed slightly, before scampering off to his room with you. "No, you don't get to fuckin' touch them with your gross unwashed hands, Moxxie-- yeah, that's right I saw you! We are living in post-Covid times, mister! Ack, no, leave 'em! I'll carry them just fine thank you!"

Loona

|| please don't repost, reuse, or edit my works in any way! I do not give permission. Tumblr is the only site where I post. All characters belong to their rightful owner and the story belongs to me © CHERUBFAE 2024 ||

She smirks when she sees you. You look so sweet and cute, curled up into a ball. But that position can't be good on your spine, nor sleeping on Blitz's sad depression sofa. Loona bends down to lift you into her arms, pushing open her bedroom with her elbow and closing it shut with her foot. A nap with you sounded perfect. "You sure do look cute when you're tired, babe." She nuzzles your cheek with her nose.

[sparklingchim]

too hot to handle;m | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 5.3k

rating: 18+

genre: hockeyplayer!jungkook, richgirlie!oc, brother’s best friend, college!au, fwb

warnings: belly button smoochies !!!!, they banter a lot hihi, oral (m receiving), protected sex, dick slaps on the face 🫢, mentions of underage drinking, spanking, spitting, dirty talk, oc loves reality tv shows & jk just puts up w it, groping, praise, a sprinkle of jealousy😋, INTRODUCING A KITTY CAT !!!! pls she is the cutest <3

summary: pov: it's a hot summer day, and naturally, your brother's best friend can't take his eyes off your scantily clad body.

a/n: wow it's been so long!! but here's a lil summer fic!! love u hope u like it MWAH 😙

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

“I can’t believe those people can’t keep their dick in for just a little while.” Jungkook tilts his head in a disapproving way. “There’s so much money at stake and you're risking it just cause you’re horny?”

You silently giggle at the way his brows knit. The judgement that contorts his face is the exact opposite of his earlier claims that he doesn’t care about silly reality tv shows that are obviously pre-arranged and scripted.

“Oh, don’t act like it’d be easy for you.” You poke his calf with your foot. “You’re a very horny person, Jungkook.” You look up at him with your chin resting against his bare chest and give him a pointed look.

His bottom lip juts out as he ponders your words. “I don’t think so,” he finally says.

You gasp in mock surprise, pushing yourself away from with your palms against shoulders. You lie nearly completely on top of him, one leg thrown across his body. “That is a bold statement coming from you.”

Jungkook toys with the strap of your lacy camisole. “Honestly, I think you are hornier than me.”

You blink multiple times. “Me?” You point to yourself. “No, it’s you.” You nudge his bare, husky chest with your nail – you got your nails done for summer, the tips are painted in the cutest pastel colours.

He catches your finger and swiftly interlaces his hand with yours. “Nuh-uh. It’s not me,” he denies. “Who was the one to initiate things between us?”

“That has nothing to do with this,” you argue. “You just never initiated anything because you’re scared of my brother.” A mischievous twinkle unfolds in your eyes. Jungkook should be paid for the obnoxious number of times he has to put up with your bratty ass.

Jungkook rolls his pretty eyes. “I wouldn’t be on his fucking couch cuddling with his sister if I was scared, hm?” He looks across the hallway, pointing with his chin to Taehyung’s room. “Where even is he?”

“I dunno. Said he’d come home late.”

His fingers slip away from yours and he holds his palm against yours.

“You’ve got long fingers,” you say, staring at the size difference.

“Your nails are pretty.” He mindlessly brushes his fingers over them.

You excitedly tap your fingertips against his hand. “I know, right? Thank you!” You lean down and give his belly button a kiss.

“Another one?”

You giggle foolishly, planting another smooch on his tummy. Then you rest your head on his belly and refocus on the show playing on the television.

His palm lies on the small of your back, thumb gently stroking your exposed skin. “You were, like, all over me, though. Last year, I mean.”

“Excuse me?” you turn your head.

“Last year during summer break, when Taehyung and I surprised you.”

“I know what you mean,” you tell him. You drop his hand on his lap, a frown blossoming on your face. “But that was not the case at all.”

Okay, perhaps he is correct – but to your defence, you were struggling with your first real heartbreak around that time and needed a little distraction.

“I just wanted to get the charger and leave,” he argues with a pout, playing all innocent with those damned doe eyes

“No.” You give him an appalled look. “You were literally standing in my room staring at me.”

“Well, I didn’t expect to find you like that.”

“You barged into my room, what were you expe-”

“I didn’t barge into your room,” he clarifies. “Your door was ajar, so I assumed you’d be decent.”

You shake your head disapprovingly. “Knocking is basic etiquette.”

“Whatever,” he sighs and his hand on your back sneaks beneath your top. “You initiated it, though. Practically threw yourself at me.”

You scoff, frowning up at him. “Need a trip down memory lane?”

Jungkook smirks amusedly. His dimple pops out adorably. “What?” He twirls a strand of your hair around his finger. “Wanna show me what we did?”

You roll your eyes, despite your heart skipping a beat. “You wouldn’t last a second on the show.” You tilt your head towards the flat screen tv.

“I have a hot girl in my arms – gonna blame a boy for trying?”

Jungkook clearly knows how to get you. And you hate that he knows when he’s got you. His smile grows bigger and his hand wanders down to your ass, barely covered with your tiny shorts, and delivers a little smack.

“C’mere,” he whispers and pulls you on top of him. “Wanna make you scream louder than you did earlier.”

~

one year ago

For you, summer doesn’t quite begin until it’s the perfect day to lie on the sun lounger in a cute bikini, sipping on a cold drink and bask in the gentle warmth with good music in your ears. It’s the perfect way to relax and unwind.

Lucky for you, today is one of those summer days – just perfect enough to spend the entire day resting by the pool. The sun is high in the sky, casting a warm glow on your skin.

Better than Revenge by Taylor Swift is blasting through your phone while you placidly flip the page of a memoir about love.

As you look up from the book, you notice that your little grey cat Moon has left your lap. She was sunbathing with you, lying flat on her belly with her limbs outstretched, but she must’ve slipped into the house a while ago. You dog ear the page and place the book on the small table beside you.

The sun dances on the water, creating a beautiful mosaic of light and shadow. A little slice of heaven on earth, you think. You love spending time in the backyard. It’s peaceful and tranquil.

And that’s when you hear the patter of feet running across the grass from behind, and before you’re able to realise what’s happening, two bodies jump into the pool, the water splashes everywhere – including you.

“What the-” You shut your eyes closed despite the sunglass perched on the bridge of your nose. Water droplets hit your face. You pull your sunglasses up to your forehead.

Two heads pop out of the water. “Hi.” Jungkook is the first to speak up. He sends a sweet smile in your direction, his hand doing a little wave.

Your heart beats faster at the sight of him. Unthinkingly, you slowly mimic the wave with your hand. Your gaze wanders over to the tattoo wreathing his shoulder, peeking out of the water, and the way the droplets run from his face to his neck before your eyes shift to your brother.

Taehyung is fixing his hair, a huge grin plastered on his face.

“What are you guys doing here?” You grab the towel next to you to dry yourself off. “Isn’t it Thursday? I thought you were coming back on Friday?”

“Surprise!” Your brother yells from the pool. When Taehyung notices the pout on your lips, he gives you a quizzical look. “You’re not happy to see me?” He pushes himself out of the pool and walks over to you.

“I had planned to bake you a cake,” you explain sullenly and stand up.

“A cake? For what?”

“Just a little welcome back cake.” You shrug. “Mum bought me the pink Smeg stand mixer and I wanted to try it out.”

“Well, that’s fine. We could bake together?” He opens his arms, and despite him being wet everywhere, you rush into the hug.

“Missed you,” you mumble into his arm. Immediate comfort surrounds you. "But it’s no fun being in the kitchen with you.”

“Yah.” He shoves you away. “Be grateful that I’m letting you ruin my kitchen with all your stuff.”

“Ruin?” you repeat offended. “As far as I know you barely even have anything in your kitchen – let alone your apartment. I’ll decorate everything really pretty, just trust me.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Jungkook pushing himself out of the pool. Taehyung restricts your sight a little, so you take a subtle step to the side. But the second you have a clear view of Jungkook, you instantly regret it.

His arms have gotten bigger – stronger, buffer, just everything – and the water running down his sculpted body is pitifully failing at making this scene less salivating. Oh, and his thighs. His wet swim shorts cling to them, leaving exactly nothing to the imagination.

You hastily look away when Jungkook catches your eyes.

“You missed me too?” Jungkook chips in, standing next to Taehyung. Jungkook wears a cheeky grin and stretches his arms out.

With faux reluctance, you give in. “I guess,” you mutter and gingerly hug him. Jungkook’s big hands are on your back and you feel the slightest tingle.

“You guess?” he scoffs.

He pulls you back and peers down at you beneath his wet locks. You’re a little blinded by the proximity of his gorgeous face. His piercings twinkle in the sun just like is eyes do when he looks at you.

When his hands clasp your waist, you know exactly what he’s scheming.

“Jungkook, don’t.” You try to push him away, but he obviously won’t budge.

“When are you gonna learn that teasing me by the pool never ends well for you?” He cocks his head.

You feel Taehyung’s hand on your shoulder. “You did this to yourself.”

You huff, trying to plead with your eyes. “Jungkook. I really don’t want to get my hair wet.”

“You don’t want me to throw you into the pool?”

“No.” Your mouth twists into a pout. Maybe he’ll spare you for cuteness. Your hands travel to his arms. Or maybe you can distract him enough to let you go.

“Too bad.” Jungkook throws you over his shoulder with an annoying grin. You kick his back with your fists, but it’s hopeless. “That’s, like, one of my favourite summer activities.”

And then he leaps into the pool with you.

~

You admit, you did indeed have fun goofing around with them in the pool – you're still pissed at Jungkook for tossing you into the water though.

“You’ve been alone the whole day?” Taehyung asks when all three of you are out of the pool.

“Yeah, mum and dad said they’d come home later.”

“Why haven’t you invited someone over?”

“Just wanted to enjoy some me time.” You point to your copy of Everything I Know About Love. “I was reading a little.”

“How are thing with Doyoon? Haven’t heard from him in a while.”

It is a reasonable question, given that you haven’t updated Taehyung on your relationship status for, like, a month now. But you’d rather talk about anything but your ex.

“I don’t know,” you reply indifferently. When you spot little Moon plodding around the garden you swoop her up into your arms. “Have you greeted Moonie yet? She’s missed you.” The tiny grey kitty purrs in your hold.

“I spent like 20 minutes cuddling her in the living room when we got here.” Taehyung pets her under her chin and her purring intensifies. “So, what’s with Doyoon? You two had a fight?”

Jungkook joins the kitty cuddles and gives Moon belly rubs.

“I broke up with him.”

Both boys stop their movements. Moon complains meekly at the sudden lack of petting.

“You broke up with him?” Jungkook asks perplexed.

You’re aware it sounds shocking that the girl with huge separation anxiety and attachment issues broke up with her boyfriend of nearly a year, but that is exactly what you did.

“What did he do?” Taehyung's eyebrows are knitted, flashing you a glowering gaze.

You know he is not mad at you – even though he doesn’t particularly like when you keep things hidden from him – but mad at the fact that someone hurt you and he wasn’t there to protect you.

You just shrug.

“How long ago was that?” Taehyung continues his inquiry.

“Uh, like a month ago or so?” You let Moon hop onto the grass. She immediately goes to rub her head against Jungkook’s leg.

“___, if you want me to-”

“Tae, I’m fine. Really.”

“We’ll talk about this later.” In Jungkook’s direction he says, “I’ll get us some towels.” And then he disappears into the house.

Jungkook steps closer to you, now with Moon in his embrace, and changes the subject. “Watchu been up to?” He pinches your cheek. “Senior year was fine without us?”

Frowning, you shove his arm away. “Believe it or not, but school was actually more peaceful without annoying boys in the hallways.”

Jungkook snorts a laugh at your jab. His dimples popping out distract you a little and all you think about is cute and how badly you want to poke them. But instead, you cross your arms in front of your chest.

“So, everything’s been fine?” he asks. “You’re excited for college? Being roomies with Taehyung?” Jungkook’s eyes shimmer teasingly – how could they not, his doe eyes look the sparkliest around you.

Now, you don’t want to seem rude. But when you thought about moving out and finally having the freedom you had dreamed of for so long, you didn’t reckon with the fact that your parents had already arranged your move out without you. You had tabs of pretty apartments near campus saved on your laptop when your mum nonchalantly asked at dinner a few months ago if Taehyung had already removed the furniture from his guest bedroom so you could furnish it to your liking.

You were a little upset – still are upset, but there's nothing you can do.

It’s a sore subject, so you bite the side of your lip sulkily. “Why? Do you wanna move in? I heard you only got a tiny dorm.” You keep your nose in the air.

“Oh no, I love my apartment. I love having my own space and not having to share it with anyone.” Jungkook shakes his head at your wrong assumption, all innocently. “It’s not big, but perfect for one person.” He shrugs. “Will you be fine with only one room to yourself, princess?” He actually flashes you a smile – taunting you with those sickeningly wicked lips and round eyes – but you just roll your eyes at his silly remark and turn on your heel, sashaying your way back to the sun lounger.

“I’m good.” You pick up your towel from the small table to dry you off. “I’ll be perfectly fine. I don’t think I’ll be home much anyway.” You imitate his smile from just a moment ago. “Wanna have the full college experience.” You think you see his face falter for the tiniest second before he recovers.

“Told Taehyung that too?”

You purse your lips in naivety. “Of course he knows.”

“Oh, yeah?” He quirks his brow. You catch his eyes as they dip down to watch you drying your chest.

You blink. “What do you mean – yeah, of course I told him.” You have to contain your laughter when perplexity falls over Jungkook’s face. “What are you thinking of?” Your head falls sideways, mouth curving upwards.

“No, what are you thinking of?”

“Oh, I’m thinking of spending my time in the library to study, maybe explore some cute cafes nearby to study in – oh, creating study groups and having study buddies would be fun!” you exclaim. “And obviously cheering for Taehyung and you,” – you give him a pointed look – “at your games.” You throw the now damp towel back on the lounger. “What were you thinking of?”

He shakes his head, pouty mouth denying that he was thinking of something else. He’s guilelessly rubbing Moon’s back, who has quickly fallen into a little nap in his arms.

“Cheering us on, hm?”

“Just like old times,” you say. “Think I should apply as a cheerleader again?”

Jungkook toys with his lip ring and you hate when he does it because you already have a hard time not blatantly staring at his mouth as it is.

“You-” He stops abruptly.

“What?” you ask, trying to pull the words from him, the tip of your tongue pressing against your top lip.

“You looked good in your cheerleader uniform.” His eyes dart mindlessly over your body.

A short giggle escapes you. “I know, right? Thank you!” You give him a sweet smile over your shoulder as you walk pass Taehyung, who just stepped outside with two towels in his hand.

“Where’re you going?” Taehyung halts next to you.

“Thought I’d make us some drinks,” you reply.

Taehyung gives you a long stare. “That’s what you’ve been up to the past weeks?”

You wave dismissively. “No, not at all.”

But Taehyung can tell when you lie – can smell it from anywhere. It’s something you hate and love at the same time. Sometimes you just want to be left alone, and sometimes, when your guard is up high, he allows you to feel vulnerable through his endless poking and snooping.

“Maybe a little.” An apologetic smile forms on your mouth, eyes going rounder when you hear Taehyung sigh.

Okay, maybe you did drink a little more than you’d like to admit – you got your heart broken. What’s a girl gonna do? – but never too much. And never when you were on your own. Being drunk alone is no fun.

“I promise it’s not that serious,” you say. Nothing a little crying, cuddles from Moon and journaling at night can’t cure. Your visits at stationery stores have been a tad bit excessive this past month – but for good reason.

His eyes tell you that he’s going to confront you about this later. He nods his head to the kitchen inside. “Don’t go too overboard, yeah?”

“Oh, I’ll make you one of my specialties!”

Taehyung doesn’t join your enthusiasm. Instead, he scowls. “Specialties? ___, when did you-”

You hop into the house, not listening anymore. Once he gets a taste of your drink, his grumpy face will ask for another one instead of grumbling about your recklessness.

~

You don’t know what Taehyung and Jungkook are up to, but you hope they took your advice seriously when you told them to put on sunscreen if they want to spend more time outside.

You’re fresh out of a shower. The steam in your bathroom follows you into your bedroom – despite the hot temperatures, you can’t bring yourself to shower with cold water.

With a fluffy towel around you and your kitty ears headband on, you poke your head into your wardrobe to search for clothes.

You just fetched a cute pair of panties when you hear your door fly open.

“Taehyung needs a charger can you-”

Jungkook immediately shuts up.

Your panties slip from your fingers. His eyes move aimlessly over your body until he realises what he’s doing. Flustered, he turns his head around and sees the door wide open. Jungkook quickly closes it, and you don’t know why – maybe he doesn’t want anyone seeing you like this, you think he mentioned earlier that Namjoon was gonna come over too, or maybe he doesn’t want someone seeing him in this untimely situation.

Your cheeks feel on fire. “He needs a phone charger?” you ask when he shifts his gaze back at you.

“Yeah.” You almost giggle at the way he tries not to look down at your body. He already had trouble with that in the backyard.

You pad through your room to find your charger.

“I’m not sure where I put it.” You feel his eyes on you and inevitably, your entire body gradually starts feeling hot. You bend down to take a peek under your bed, tightly holding the towel in front of your chest to keep it from sliding down, but you come up empty-handed.

Jungkook clears his throat. “You know – I think he’ll be fine. If he doesn’t find his I can get mine from home.”

Returning to him, you quickly snatch your panties from the ground and throw them back into your wardrobe.

“Maybe I left it in the living room,” you say, eyes trailing over his bare chest. If he’s not subtle about staring, you won’t be either.

“I’ll tell him to look there.”

You nod. And he nods. But no one moves.

“That looks cute.” He nods towards your headband.

“Oh.” You touch the soft material of your headband. “Thank you.”

“I probably should head back.”

“You really want to leave?”

That elicits a surprised snort from him. “Do you want me to stay?” His eyebrows shoot up.

“I dunno.” You toy with the front of your towel. “Maybe?”

The crooked smile that appears on his face gives you the last push. You’ve got Jungkook alone in your room in nothing but his swim shorts – you'd be a fool not to try.

His eyes are locked on your fingers playing with your towel. Jungkook takes a step towards you. When he raises his tatted arm and gently outlines the curve of your waist with his fingertip, you let go of your towel. With a dull thud it pools around your feet.

“I-” Jungkook is speechless as he stares at your exposed body His doe eyes are wider than you’ve ever seen them. He averts his gaze to your face, pointing his thumb to the door. His mouth parts, but no words come past them.

“Don’t leave.” A little frown scrunches your face. “Do you want to leave?”

“We shouldn’t-” Jungkook shakes his head, eyes furtively glimpsing at your body again before lifting them up. “You sure?” he asks. “You want this?” Hesitantly, his tongue fiddles with his piercing.

You nod and reach for his hand, grabbing a few fingers to drag him closer to you.

“You want this?” he repeats. “Need you to say it. Please.” He’s staring deep into your eyes and you see the desire and restraint striving against each other in his. His question lingering in the air controls his mixed emotions.

“I want this.” You tug him even closer.

His longing glances are all over you – he can’t seem to dwell too long on one curve, he needs to memorise it all.

“Fuck it,” he whispers. And then he cups your jaw, roughly going in for a messy kiss.

You stumble a few steps back, but Jungkook catches you, his fingers dip into the soft skin of your waist. A sigh from you mingles into the kiss. You didn’t think kissing Jungkook would feel so good. But his lips are ridiculously smooth, and he moves his mouth in a fashion that has you yearning for more. Your hands vanish in his hair, teasingly pulling at his damp locks.

He pulls back, breathing heavy. “This is so wrong.” He nuzzles his head into your neck.

“He won’t know.” When you feel his teeth sinking into your skin, you yank him back. “He will if you're gonna suck hickeys on me.”

“You just taste so fucking good,” he mumbles.

You pepper kisses along his jaw before you slowly sink on your knees. The bulge in his shorts stares right at you. Giddy sparks flash through your eyes while you look up at Jungkook.

“You’re not doing this because you drank, right?” His knuckles brush over your cheek.

“Huh?” you feel dizzy, little pink hearts swell up in front of your eyes, the longer you stare into his dreamy face. When you register his question, you deny it with a strong shake of your head. “I’m not drunk.”

He tips your chin up. “You promise?”

“I didn’t put anything in my drink,” you assure him. “I promise.”

With a smile playing on your lips, you place a kiss on his belly button before pulling down his swim shorts. The pink hearts grow even bigger when his cock pops out. It’s a pretty cock – veiny and thick, his tip glistening with a teeny tiny dab of pre-cum. You’ve never been more excited to put a dick in your mouth.

You have one palm around his cock and guide his head to your mouth. You stick your tongue out and sweep it over his slit. The muscles on his abdomen tense. Even the slightest reactions from him excites you, cheeks turning warm in eagerness.

A breathy moan escapes Jungkook at the feeling of your warm lips wrapped around his head and his fingers slide over your kitty ears headband to the back of your head. You like the feeling of his hand on you. It elicits a tingly sensation in your tummy. You take more of him, relaxing your throat as you go.

“Good girl.” His hushed praise has wetness pooling between your thighs. Your fist curled around his cock tightens fleetingly.

More quiet moans fill the room as you bob your head, tongue swirling around his length. You pull off his dick with a lewd sound and pump his cock while you suck on his balls. Jungkook’s head falls back, flaunting his pretty throat you’d die to adorn with your love bites all over.

Dragging your lips over his cock again, his palm pushes your head forward. Almost his entire length vanishes in your mouth and the corner of your eyes start shimmering with tears.

“Fuck, that’s right.” He holds you there, savouring the feeling of your lips pulled taut around his swollen cock. “Taking my cock so good.” When you retract with a gag, his thumb brushes your tear away. “But still too big, huh?”

“You wanna teach me how to take all of it?” You bat your eyes.

Jungkook grins, flashing you his bunny teeth. He glides his tip over your plush lips and to your cheek. “Think you could take it all?”

“If you teach me well enough.” Your palms rest against his muscular thighs. You squeeze them and your mouth turns round in awe of their firmness.

He taps his cock on your face a couple times. “Another time, princess. Just wanna fuck your mouth right now.” Jungkook presses his dick on your mouth. “Open.”

With his cock back in your mouth, he starts moving his hips. He doesn’t force his cock in too far, just enough to have you teary eyed.

“Scoot over there.” His voice his husky as he pulls his dick from your mouth, it distracts you a little from what he’s instructed you to do until Jungkook nudges your shoulder and nods his chin to the back. You crawl backwards on your knees, palms on his thighs. When he’s satisfied, he leans in for a short kiss and you kneel comfortably on the plush carpet beneath you.

He strokes himself, eyebrows drawn together as he ogles your body through his hooded eyes. You could sit here for hours watching him play with himself. He’s just so hot. You love watching hot men do anything.

“Wanna fuck you,” he rasps, words laced with thick, deep lust. He pushes his hair back before it falls prettily into his face. “Can I fuck you?”

Unbeknownst to him, you would do anything he asked you to do now.

When you raise to your feet Jungkook asks, “Can you keep quiet?”

Offence is written on your face as you pad to your nightstand. “Don’t worry. This isn’t the first time I’ve snuck a boy into my room.”

“Who would’ve thought you’re such a dirty girl, hm?” He snatches the condom from your drawer before you can reach for it. He’s practised in tearing the wrapper open and rolling it over his cock. “Bend over your desk for me.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows, arching your back for him. He shoves two fingers up your pussy and you have to bite down your lip to stifle a moan.

“So wet for me already.” Jungkook curls his fingers, and you can’t believe how fast he has your thighs trembling.

Withdrawing his fingers, he aligns his tip to your entrance. Jungkook gradually sinks his cock into you.

“Fuck, you’re big,” you whine, brows pinched together.

“You can take it.” Jungkook moves his hips while his fingers grip your ass, kneading the supple flesh. “Your pussy feels so fucking good – fuck.”

Jungkook fucks you fast – fucks you good, you think you already feel your high building up. He sneaks his around your body, pressing his palm on your tummy.

“You like this?” He puts pressure with his hand and your walls clamp around his cock. A moan escapes you. “Good girl,” he coos. “Wanna make you cum for me.”

“Don’t stop – please don’t stop,” you pant, shutting your eyes closed. Your elbows give in and you rest your arms on the desk.

Jungkook’s cock feels undeniably good, rubbing against your sweet spot and making you see stars while you uncontrollably utter tiny moans.

“Gonna cum around my cock?” Jungkook hand collides against your butt. “Be a good girl and cum for me.”

Your climax consumes you in lightning speed. It swamps your wholly, tears well up in your eyes. Your legs are wobbly, but Jungkook has a safe hand around you.

“That’s a good girl,” he whispers.

His hand on your tummy flies up to your tits, rolling them around in his palm while relentlessly fucking you through your high.

“Has any sneaky link made you cum this fast before?” His voice is tinted in something you can’t quiet pinpoint. It’s deep, fierce.

“Nu-uh.” You’re dizzy and breathless, can’t think straight.

“Good.” He lands a smack on your ass.

His breathing intensifies, cock throbbing in your pussy. Pressing his forehead against your shoulder blade, his husky moans fill your ear. Your eyes roll. There’s nothing hotter than men moaning – especially when it’s Jungkook.

With a final thrust he spills his cum inside the condom. He exhales shakily and the tiniest whine falls from his lips. “Fuck.” Both his hands run over the slope of your ass. Jungkook plants a thoughtless kiss on the nape of your neck. “Fucking you might be my favourite now.”

“Found a new favourite summer activity besides throwing me into the pool?” You smile tiredly, peering over your shoulder.

“No – I’m talking favourite activity in general.” He absent-mindedly roams his palms across your back and down to your butt.

A giddy feeling unfurls in your chest. “Well, don’t tell Tae that.”

“Fuck, I should head downstairs.” Jungkook pulls his cock out, coaxing a little whine from you “You have a bin here?”

“In my bathroom.”

While Jungkook gets rid of the condom, you wrap yourself up in the towel again. You need another shower before putting on clothes.

When he steps out, he quickly throws on his swim shorts. “You gonna take a shower?”

“Yeah...need to fix this.”

Genuine confusion spreads on his face. “You look pretty.” With an endearing smile, dimples out and doe eyes sparkling he adds, “Always.”

Something really tightly wraps around your heart. “Thanks.” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip to stop your smile from growing.

The doorbell rings downstairs.

“Oh, is that Joon?” you ask joyfully. “I need him to recommend me some books again! I missed him so much.”

“He has a girlfriend,” Jungkook tells you.

You frown. You’re not stupid – obviously you know he has one. You’ve seen the pictures he shared on his Instagram stories. What kinda guy goes to a ceramic painting place? That was obviously a date.

“I know.”

When Namjoon’s loud voice screaming for Jungkook reaches your ears, your tummy churns.

“You need to leave.” You push Jungkook towards the door. He opens it and swiftly walks out.

“Hey, Namjoon, is that you?” Jungkook yells.

As you watch Jungkook leave your room, you want him back immediately. It feels unfair to get a taste of what his kisses and touches feel like only to have them taken away.

But deep down you know you two can’t repeat this. You wouldn’t be able to keep it from your brother. Eventually, Taehyung would figure it out.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

pt 1 & pt 2 here <3

[thelikesoffinn]

„Astarion ending as the Vampire Ascendant is the correct ending for him, because it is what he wants.”

That is a claim I’ve been seeing pop up more and more often these days. And I think it’s both a very bold and a very odd claim to make.

But first things first: Hello, I’m a licensed social worker! So far, I’ve worked with children, refugees and youths with behavioural issues stemming from bullying and or abuse.

Please be aware that I will be mentioning different kinds of abuse, coping mechanisms, and victim/abuser relationships. If any of this is difficult for you, don’t force yourself through it. My jabbering about a traumatised vampire is not worth your wellbeing, not ever.

I will, however try to stick to Astarion and not use other examples. If, in any case, I do use a non-Astarion example, I’ll add a warning beforehand so that you can skip the part. And I’ll make it clear what will be discussed in the next bit, so that you have a chance to skip it entirely.

This is an effort to make this as accessible as possible for everyone that wants to indulge on a mad woman’s rambling – and I know there’s a few people that like this sort of stuff!

And, uh, there's obviously spoilers for all three acts. Serious spoilers, even.

Before I can get into the whole ‘why Astarion didn’t really want to ascend,’ we need to understand him a little more. And to understand this pretty boy’s brain, we first need to understand the gist of what we’re talking about when we throw around the word ‘abuse.’

“Abuse” is when someone is treated with cruelty, violence, or neglect – often to bad effect – on a regular basis. Repetitively. Check’s out for Astarion, I’d say, but we all knew that already. I mean, if one thing was obvious, it was this.

1. Astarions Abuse

Next we need to look at what kind of abuse Astarion faced over his long years of torment, seeing as different types of abuse will have different effects on the victim.

Not that that is anything we have to worry about with him – Astarion won the abuse lottery, to put it bluntly. In a horrible game of fate, he got everything. He himself indirectly mentions all the types of abuse he faced, albeit never using the correct terms.

The first we properly notice – fitting, seeing as it is often the most obvious form of abuse – is the physical abuse. Astarions scars are probably the biggest tell Larian could shove down our throats, only underlined by Astarion’s tale about the night itself. About how Cazador ‘misspelled something’ every time he flinched or screamed and had to do ‘many corrections. On top of this, Cazador locked Astarion up for months on end and tortured him – or had him tortured – on a regular basis both as a rite and as a punishment.

Next up, we have the fact that Astarion was forced to basically prostitute himself repeatedly. This is what we call sexual exploitation.

“I spent two hundred years using my body to lure pretty things back for my Master.” – Act 2

Two hundred years is a long time, filled with great many people. Now, we don’t know how many of those people actually tapped into the sexual exploitation and how many he could just lure back with other means, but the fact that it happened a lot is undeniable.

Next we have a form of abuse that we often disregard in adults: Neglect. It sounds odd, I know, saying that a fully grown adult was neglected. They can care for themselves, can they not?

Well. Yes and no.

Adult neglect is proceeded by the condition that one adult has to lean on another adult to fulfil their needs for whatever reason. This could be anything, from disability to income-based issues.  

Seeing as Astarion had absolutely nothing, while Cazador had everything, we can assume this was the case. Cazador had the house, the money, the power. Astarion owns but one pair of clothes, assumedly, that he has fixes over and over again. Fair to say, that’s pretty neglectful. (And it’s one more reason to shower the guy in pretty armour and camp clothes. Go ham, people.)

Last we have the form of abuse we actually get to witness later in the game – emotional abuse.

Once again, it’s undeniable that this happened. Especially since we’re all seeing it in the flesh upon meeting Cazador in his crypt.

“Have you no respect for yourself?”

“I strove for perfection in all things. Even those as imperfect as you.”

“A pity you amounted to so little, despite my efforts.”

“A pathetic little boy who never amounted to anything.”

All Act 3, Crypt

Here we have just a few examples of things Cazador throws in his face. It’s like reading a textbook on emotional abuse, this one (and it’s definitely a reason to throw hands).

Blaming the victim, keeping their sense of self and their self-worth as tiny as possible to make them cower and flee. A true classic.

This pretty much shows that Astarion suffered all forms of abuse we commonly see and it is implied – once again by Astarion himself – that at least a few of those instances were ritualistic.

Now, what does that mean exactly? Well, I fear I need to use a real example here, so please skip the next paragraph.

Ritualistic doesn’t refer to a proper ritual – it can, but that’s mostly a thing for those in a cult. So, we’re not necessarily talking about a ‘Vampire Ascendent Ritual’. A husband, beating his wife every evening after his third bottle of beer is also called ritual abuse. It happens regularly. It is part of a routine. Both parties know what will happen.

I can’t find the exact quote, so I’m working of my memory here, but at one point he said that when Cazador invited him to eat and he said yes, he would be served a putrid rat. If he said no, he’d be beaten.

The way it was phrased made it clear that it happened more than once and that Astarion clearly knew what would happen. So, this can be classified as ritualistic abuse.

2. A Note on Conditioning and Compliance

By default, abuse victims are conditioned to behave a certain way or in a certain fashion. This is a natural response to avoid further abuse.

In Astarion, the thing we see most often is his inherent need to please. Not literally, he doesn’t mind being an arsehole. But he initially feels the need to follow Tav’s orders, even if they go against his own wishes.

This can be clearly seen in the conversation with Araj Oblodra. Astarion very clearly doesn’t want to bite her. He doesn’t. But he will do so, if Tav tells him to. This behaviour is not conscious – he doesn’t know why he does it, he just does – and it is to be expected. This is how he kept himself save for two centuries, so of course he will fall back into his usual pattern when the pressure is high.

This goes hand in hand with the fact that most abuse victims don’t fight. Maybe initially, but not after long term abuse. Especially not after two fucking centuries.

This is true in Astarion – offered by his ‘siblings’ during act 3 and unhappily acquiesced by the man himself. Astarion stopped fighting and, once again implied, cowered, and did as he was told in order to survive.

3. The Astarion we know and love

Obviously, all that abuse does have an impact on our vampire boyfriend. He shows various common signs of abuse and just like with the forms of abuse, Astarion raked every coping mechanism he could find. (Not really, but it feels like it.) It’s also important to note that nearly all of the following things happen inwardly. Astarion is not one of the victims, that tries to rationalise and minimise the actions of his abuser. Quite the opposite, actually.

I’ll note from the beginning, that rationalisation will not be covered in this bit, as most examples will be important later on. But he definitely does it.

One of his biggest skills is to hide every ounce of fear or hurt behind sarcasm and snarky theatrics. He doesn’t seem to hide his anger much, though, so that’s something! Our boy is cool with anger, not so much with being afraid.

“Ahahaha, now that you mention it….I might have done…that.” – Act 3, regarding the Gur children

“The thing that will decide my fate forever more? Yeees, it’s been on my miiiind. Why?” – Act 2, regarding the Ritual

And there’s many more instances that prove this. Honestly, half his dialogue is sarcasm, so it would really be too long to get into and we all know what I mean, right? We have alltalked to the guy before. It’s obvious that he’s sarcastic to a fault.

This goes hand in hand with his penchant for defensiveness. I would personally state that he’s simply not really good with guilt. When talking about fear, he usually just opts for sarcasm or avoids the topic completely, but guilt especially has his defences going up. This is also when he’s most likely to shove all the blame off to Cazador.

“Don’t look at me like that. Cazadors orders.” – Act 3, Crypt

“I just did what I had to!” – Act 3, Crypt

And don’t get me wrong, he does that anyway. And with good reason. Astarion didn’t have a choice for the most part, but he’s still easy to shove things off.

This kind of connects to his penchant for denial.

Astarion doesn’t really like to talk about most things. He firmly believes he is an ‘action’ sort of person that just does instead of plans, which invertedly just means he’s great at pushing the thinking stuff away. He also likes to get rid of stuff, so that he doesn’t need to face it ever again.

“I never want to see these little scraps of misery again. The world doesn’t need to know my shame.” – Act 3, about the children

And yes, this partly rings true. He’s probably ashamed and doesn’t want anyone to know what he’s done. But it’s also very clear that he himself simply doesn’t want to face his own actions, something that is just  underlined by his extreme willingness to red rid of the other spawn.

As mentioned by Astarion himself, he’s big on manipulation. I mean, I don’t think there is much explaining necessary. The guy is willing to do a whole lot in order to get what he desires – which mostly revolves around safety and survival, to be honest – and he’s not really shy about it either. And that’s despite the fact that he doesn’t really like intimacy – especially in form of sex.

It’s not a secret that Astarion is not big on sex and anything surrounding it. This goes far enough for people to consider him either ace or ace coded.

A claim that, personally, I’m not super in line with.

Now, it’s not entirely wrong and if this is your head cannon I’m surely not going to stand in your way – but on a larger spectrum, I think he’s more traumatised than ace. And while those go hand in hand sometimes, it’s a bit difficult for the ace community if you attach traumatised characters to them because it can fuel a whole lot of stigma that is honestly neither needed nor wanted. But I digress!

If it comes to his own behaviour, he’s great at minimising his mistakes. Honestly, he’s a master of minimisation. A very obvious and famous example would be:

“’Killed’ feels like a…strong word. Not many corpses have your vigour.” – Act 1, after killing Tav

Astarion. You literally sucked poor Tav dry and left them flopping around, cold, and dead. Killed is exactly the right word and we all know it.

“Quite the deviation from my usual routine. Capture, not lure. I didn’t bring them in with sweet rolls or anything.” – Act 3, Gur Children

This is another attempt at minimising what he did, if a bit less obvious because at this point there isn’t much he can say. But at least he didn’t sexualise the gur children, right? They’re still spawn but whoo, at least that didn’t happen.  

The next point would be dissociation, which is extremely common in abuse victims – of all forms of abuse.

Astarion himself mentioned certain moments that could be classified as dissociation over course of the story, which is probably the coping mechanism I personally expected the most.

The pale elf has a penchant for violence, but he’s not entirely shameless or abhorrently vile, which gets clearer the more the story progresses. So, two hundred years of forced prostitution, torture and doing whatever other horrible things? Yeah, I’d be more surprised if he didn’t dissociate.

Examples of that would be:

“A moment of disgust to push myself through and then I could’ve carried on, just like before.” – Act 2, after Araj

“I felt nothing the moment I handed them over.” – Act 3, Gur Children

“Did you enjoy it? It felt like you weren’t fully there.” – Act 1, Tav after Sex

The latter is generally more of an assumption than actual prove, but with context it does make sense.

The last common sign of abuse we find in our boyfriend would be his low self-worth. It’s a consistent trait that stays over the course of all three acts, noticeable in many different conversations.

We can see it in his reaction to wanting to break up before finishing his story. We can see it in his genuine surprise when Tav picks him over any of the other characters. We see it in his insecurity whenever Tav asks to sleep with another character. He’s fine with it, but he still worries their decision to sleep with someone else is based on something he did.

It eases up ever so slightly after Cazador is dead, but even then he’s still struggling which is once again perfectly illustrated if you try to break up with him.

“Oh shit. I- Did I do something wrong?”

That is the first thing he asks and I think it speaks for itself. He genuinely doesn’t believe he has much to offer and for Astarion, it’s likely that Astarion will always be the problem.

4. "Oh, I tried them all none of them answered.”

Another big thing that’s important to note, is that Astarion was never saved. No one came to save him from Cazador. There was no darling boy on a white steed riding into that castle to rescue him and princess carry him away. Not even the gods answered his desperate calls.

So, he never received any kindness or luck. To him, the world seems as cruel and horrid as before because he didn’t have the chance to experience goodness in two centuries.

But worse than that, he didn’t even get to save himself. Astarion didn’t stand up to Cazador, he didn’t run out of his own might.

He was beaten to near death and ‘saved’ by Cazador, who would become his abuser.

He tried to save someone and, in turn, was locked up and starved for an entire year.

He was abducted by mind flayers, i.e., saved from Cazador, only to end up tadpoled and on the cusp of getting a fancy, squiddy beard.

Anything that’s good, any kindness, any selfless action…it all came with a ginormous price tag.

5. Over the Course of the Story

Astarions behaviour changes a whole lot over the course of three acts – which is important once we talk about his quests climax – so let’s review what we’re working with!

Act 1 Astarion is guarded as fuck. The man has walls around him that are so high, even the gods can touch them.

A lot of his behaviour in act 1 revolves around staying save and staying liked. He lies, manipulates, and flutters his lashes in order to get what he wants and needs. Instead of asking, like Wyll, Karlach and Gale do, Astarion uses all he has to offer to get by. He is still very much in survival mode and tries to weasel his way through an unfamiliar situation with familiar methods.

On top of that, and most notably, he’s absolutely not fond of kindness or selflessness.

#I saved a child and now my boyfriend is mad

Here, we are most likely to gain disapproval for doing the decent thing – unless you sent him outside for a minute whenever you’re being a good person.

And I’d assume that this is because of two things.

First: The very traditional ‘Why not me?’

As I mentioned before, Astarion wasn’t saved. He hasn’t experienced kindness in a very long time so seeing that the world is literally filled with kind people is hurtful. Why didn’t anyone save him? Why was he left to his own devices for so long? Why should he care about others when it’s so clear that no one ever cared about him? No, dead to all of them. If he didn’t get it, neither will they.

“And what am I owed? What about the injustices I suffered? Am I not entitled to anything?” – Act 3, Crypt

“I was in the prime of my life when I was turned. Everything was taken from me too.” – Act 3, Crypt

And secondly is the fact that, as I mentioned, goodness always has a price. And it’s one most people won’t be willing to pay. That’s how his life has been, so why would theirs be different?

This is precisely why Astarion may disapprove of kind actions, but he mostly neither approves nor disapproves if Tav asks for payment. That’s just how the world works.

Once you venture out into act 2, after getting to know him a whole lot more, he starts to mellow a bit – if only towards Tav.

“He’s afraid, so afraid, of everyone but you, who she should fear the most.” – Sceleritas about Astarion

His approval is a lot easier to gain – or at least keep! – and he tends to approve of some more proper actions. He doesn’t throw a fit if you promise to find Mol, he approves of Tav being kind to His Majesty, of saving Aylin and he even approves of Durge apologising to Isobel after threatening to rip her to pieces.

He's slowly starting to open up, allowing Tav to see some parts of him he previously kept hidden. He accepts their offer to help, if hesitantly and, by god, the man starts experimenting with boundaries.

The social worker in me is shedding tears at this. It’s my favourite thing to see in my clients and it’s no different here. Yay to saying no!

Of course, it’s still a bit hit or miss. If Tav urges him to bite Araj, for example, he will only to later notice that he didn’t fucking have to. He recognises this on his own and he calls Tav out on it. Just like he calls them out on not helping him with his Orthon quest.

Good job, chap. Good fucking job.

And the growth-train won’t stop going even as we reach act 3.

In act 3, there’s not many things he disapproves as of right now – those he does, mostly have to do with how Tav treats him and not with anyone else. In fact, he’s more likely to approve good behaviour now, like giving Yenna food or money.

And yes, we need to consider that this could simply be because he gets used to Tav’s behaviour and just learns to roll with it. But it’s also highly likely that he notices that there’s truly good people around. At least one person. And that person is not only good, no, they’re in the process of helping him break free once and for all.

They’re helping him save himself.

By act 3, he has learned that he can absolutely say his piece where Tav is concerned and he’s more likely to disagree with them on certain things. It’s seen during a lot of small dialogue that he’s no longer terribly afraid to be honest with them, willing to listen and talk and he’ll ask for help if he needs it.

“I can do this. But I need your help.” – Act 3, Crypt

Something that can be viewed both positively and negatively is that he’s definitely loyal to a fault. He will stick by Tav’s side, no matter what.

“I really hoped we could avoid being pawns for a dark god, but here we are, I suppose. I’m with you, my dear, wherever this might lead.” – Act 3, After Jaheira confronts durge

As I said, this can be both positive and negative. On one count, it’s a recipe for disaster, seeing as he could be waltzing into a really bad situation for Tav alone.

But on the other side…this is a man who only cared about himself because that is the only person he could afford to care about. He needed to survive. He now has enough room to breathe and the capacity to care for someone else and I’d be inclined to count that as a good thing.

6. The Crypt

All the progress he made in act 2 and 3 is nearly tossed into the wind as soon as the crew enters Cazadors castle.

It’s not an immediate thing, of course.

At first, Astarion tries to stay light and simple and he hides behind flippant tones and relaxed faces. The way he recounts this is almost comically disinterested and the façade is actually quite good.

It’s start’s cracking after we meet Godie, one of the people who tortured him on more than one account, but he mostly manages to remain as upbeat as one can honestly expect for the first half of the journey.

All that, however, is done for the very moment we meet Sebastian. His mask not only slips, no, it full on shatters and there’s none of his apparent lightness left.

Which, of course it does.

The man is suddenly faced with years and years and years of victims. Innocent, unlucky people he lured back to his master over two centuries. People he liked, people he pitied.

“It’s sickening, seeing them again.”

It’s basically a room filled with guilt, exclusively for Astarion. And, as we mentioned before…Astarion is not great with guilt.

The guilt, however, is not where it ends.

No, he’s also faced with reflections of his own past. The spawn pose as reminders of what he did, sure, but also as reminders of what he was.

Weak, desperate, hungry.

There’s an abundance of images of his worst moments, reflected back at him in the thousands. It’s probably like staring into a funhouse mirror, but instead of seeing yourself in a funky way he just sees everything he so desperately doesn’t want to be.

“It should be [who I am]! I don’t want to be like them. They’re pathetic, horrible…”

He’s forcefully made aware of how darn weak he can be, which claws at all the wounds he’s barely had time to close. Something, he of course won’t admit if asked.

“THEY DO NOT [remind me of myself]. That weakness in me is dead, IT’S DEAD. I have a higher purpose.”

The high pressure of the moment brings out all of his act 1 traits in but a few moments. You can pretty much watch how he starts to shut down mid conversation, one of his old walls snapping back into place to remove himself from the situation.

Thing is though, walls usually become a bit brittle after disuse. Especially when talking to a person you don’t usually want to wall out.

Or, in his case, when talking to Tav.

After meeting Sebastian, Astarion shows extreme reactions to Tav nudging any of his weak spots. His reaction varies on whatever choice you make, but it ranges from aggression to defensiveness, to denial and even to downright begging Tav.

“Don’t hate me. I just did what I had to. I swear I did what I had to.”

This probably the most shocking out of all of them, since that is not something we got to witness before. The begging is likely a mixture of intense fear of losing Tav, his low self-esteem and pre-Tav behaviour, since we can assume that Cazador made him beg more than once.

Another old coat he puts back on would also be the least surprising of them all.

Manipulation.

He falls right back into it, using Tav’s affection to get what he want if we trigger the right action.

“If they die and I ascend, I won't have to rely on the parasite to walk in the sun. I'll be free. Truly completely free. Isn't that what you want?”

This, to me, was probably the biggest tell that Astarion was back in survival mode. He’s panicking, for fucks sake, and who can blame the guy? He’s back. He’s about to face down his abuser.

Of course he’s fucking panicking.

Panic leads to an increased craving for safety and, in his case, power. This is why he clings to Tav, why he begs them to love him still. And this is why he jumps head first into the rationalisation pool.

“I will need to sacrifice them all if I want to perform the ritual. - [You can save them.] – What’s the point? They're as good as dead! I thought they were dead. If they are unleashed, they will cause incredible carnage. […] They must die. Better they serve a purpose.”

Another textbook example.

They must die anyway. They’re basically dead. No need to save them now. They’re dangerous, I’m doing the right thing by sacrificing them. I already thought they were dead, so it’s not changing anything for me. They’re a lost cause and I deserve  all this power. I deserve it, because I suffered and nothing will change if they die.

So, seeing as we already spoke about his usual behaviour in act 3 – behaviour he showed after we allowed him to breathe and be himself for a while – I think we can fairly easily conclude he’s not thinking straight.

Astarion is right back in survival mode, where all that matters is he himself. If it weren’t for the seven thousand spawns, he might have moved through this more gracefully, but seeing those tipped the scales and Astarion is absolutely losing it.

Remember that for the last section, per favore.

7. The Ascension

“Astarion wants to ascend and Tav manipulates him into doing what they want.”

That is basically the essence of what people often claim and I can’t help but shake my head at such a blatant disregard of everything he has become. This is completely ignoring the change and growth he has gone through over the course of their journey.

Astarion wants to be free. He wants to be safe. That does not mean he wants to ascend.

And the claim that Tav manipulates him into doing anything is even more baffling. We are all aware that Tav is not manipulative by nature, yes? That is entirely on you. You decide who your Tav is.

And then let’s remember: Astarion is panicked. He’s afraid and he’s not thinking straight. His abuser is on his knees before him and he still feels so weak. And there’s seven thousand spawns that need handling.

Astarion is very much not okay right now.

In fact, reading his thoughts just proves this theory.

“You can see the fear in his eyes but also the hunger. The thick smell of blood in the air and the promise of power being so close is intoxicating to him. All he can see is the power of the ritual and the freedom that power brings. The freedom to do anything. To be anything.”

Tav, however, has none of those problems. They can actually see beyond the current situation and they are fully aware what the consequences are. Astarion is not. As we previously established, Astarion is a doer. Not a thinker. He didn’t think this through, not at all.

The only thing Tav is doing – the persuasion roll – is reminding him of the very real consequences he is facing. The consequences he hasn’t thought about before.

"I know you think this will set you free, but it won't. This power will trap you, just like it trapped Cazador."

And that is the kindest thing Tav could do in this situation. They’re not bodily dragging him away from Cazador. They’re not even telling him to not do it. They’re just offering him the truth. He can do with that information whatever he desires.

“Astarion cries when he doesn’t ascend, that just shows that it was the wrong choice.”

A hare-brained point that I thankfully have only seen once so far.

That crying? That is healthy crying.

That is him, crumbling under the stress that suddenly dissipates. That is him mourning two hundred years of torment. That’s him letting out feelings he hasn’t been able to for centuries.

And, for the love of god, try to put yourself in his shoes.

Two hundred years of torment, ended in but a moment.

Astarion was abused and tortured for so long, afraid for so long only to see his tormentor die just like that.

Cazador died within a moment and all Astarion needed was a darn blade. Of course he fucking cries.

Seeing how pathetic a being the very core of your life’s misery actually is hurts. It hurts like hell because not only are you finally free – free! – no, you’re faced with the fact that this pile of nothing, the thing that’s bleeding out right in front of you…this was what tortured for so long.

This thing hurt you so much. That guy took everything from you, everything you once were, and broke it again and again and again over years.

You were so scared of this thing.

And yet he has the gall and the gumption to die just like that.

It was so easy.

And yet you suffered for so long.

8. Evil Playthrough?

An evil playthrough is really a different setting altogether.

All of this, as you can probably tell, is really only applicable on a good playthrough. Realistically speaking. I’m not sure how the game mechanics handle it.

On an evil path, Astarion never really gets to experience kindness and goodness. Evil Tav will just prove him right in his believe that the world is a vile and cold place, meaning that he realistically would be more inclined to actually want to ascend.

9. Final Conclusion

I think all of this should be enough to make it clear that no, ascended Astarion is not the best ending for the guy. In fact, it is probably the worst. Because it’s just him, running away. He’s running into a lonely and cold state of being, where cruelty and power lord over everything else and he’s running because he’s terrified of being hurt again. He’s running despite desperately wanting to stop running.

“I'll spend the rest of my life running watching the shadows, never feeling safe…no, this has to happen. Here and now.”

And, the worst part is: Nothing about Astarion is left after he ascends. Even his tone of speaking gradually changes, his theatrics fading. He’s slowly losing himself, until there’s nothing but an evil caricature left.

So, in the end, ascension will have proven him right.

That version of him is dead.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Nature vs Nurture (monster!Konig x fem!Reader)

The new world order - monsters on top, creating the perfect dystopia for humans. You are nothing but a pet to them, a breeding mare for their perverse desires…and now you've finally been claimed by their colonel. Good luck.

Tags and TW: Dub-con, monster fucking, size kink, power imbalance, dumbification, pet play, dystopia, obsessive Konig, tentacle monster Konig, oviposition, breeding. AO3

It was supposed to be a supply run. Fast, quick, stealthy. In and out, the ruins of the abandoned store not so far from your hiding spot. Whatever you could find, some canned food – maybe, but not realistically. Some rubble and garbage that could be exchanged for food for triple the price it was – possible. Realistic. 

It was supposed to be a quick supply run. Like a rabbit out of her hole – but not really a rabbit, not even having the courtesy of strong legs and long ears that could spot anyone from a mile away. No, of course not – the universe wasn’t feeling particularly merciful when you were born a human in the age before monsters decided they didn’t want to be servants anymore. You think you remember going to the store like a normal person. Picking up a cart, hauling anything you could afford – not bothering about a lot of things. 

There are still stores, you think. Remesances of capitalism, working only for monsters – whatever crude economy they were building, it stayed in the cities. In the military bases, were filled with monsters even before the uprising. Not here, in the wasteland – it belongs to humans, as little as there were left. 

It was supposed to be a quick supply run for you and your friends – but you were dumb, but you were careless, but you grew accustomed to being the only one here, you didn’t even spot a patrol. Nasty fuckers, getting humans off the abandoned streets – you tried to fight and it didn’t work. Tried to run, and they were faster. Always faster. You should have been quicker, you shouldn’t have been a human – but you are, your soft self still not hardened by the life on the run, so you weren’t put out of your misery as you saw some other humans who got caught. Monsters took pity on you – or, perhaps, your submissiveness finally paid off. You were shown off the corner of a store – a human store, as you read, the words burning in your mind. You heard the stories about humans – attractive, soft people, mostly weak and obedient – who were snatched off the streets to do god knows what. Monsters can’t breed on their own, you remembered. 

You can hear the voices coming somewhere in the hallway, a good few meters away from your cage. You force yourself to stay as far from the bars as possible, not wanting to attract attention. Not even want to bother yourself with trying to see what your captors look like – monsters can take on human appearance and you’d rather live without seeing a human pet trader looking like someone who could have been your neighbor before the uprising. You curl in a ball, hugging your knees. Sobbing softly, quietly – knowing that there is no way out of here now. Not even other humans would help you now. “Just got new batch, colonel. Doesn’t look like a resistance member” “Ja, I heard that the last time. Schlampe killed all the hatchlings the second they were born.” “W…we didn’t know, sir! I promise, it was a…” “You can’t even breed them properly. There wasn’t any new humans in months, wolf” “Humans are…delicate, sir. They don’t want to breed in captivity.” “Make them then.” You hear something heavy shuffling around. You hear heavy footsteps that are making the flimsy flor of your cage shake. Even monsters have their disputes – but you can’t bother with caring when you hear footsteps approaching. Large shadow casting down on you. Making you feel even more small and miserable than you did before. Your head hurts. Your stomach hurts. Your everything hurts. 

Someone is staring at you. You see…someone. Humanoid silhouette – too big to belong to a human, at least 7 feet tall and broader than the entirety of your cage. You whimper when the creature tilts its head to the side, a surprisingly boyish tone of his voice grasping on your panicking mind. It isn’t the one that captured you but, for some reason, you can sense that he is even more dangerous. There is something on his uniform – some decorations, you think. Soldiers from the age before the uprising are all have quite high ranks in the new society – if they are monsters, that is. Large, droopy red tentacle falls from the guy’s hood. Definitely a monster. 

— Come closer, human. You whimper, trying to get up – only to get as far away from him as possible. You’re terrified, but he only hums in acknowledgment. A group of tentacles rising from under his hood, pushing you towards him through the bars. You were never more thankful for being locked away. 

— Disobedient. Or just dumb? 

— I d…don’t…

You cry, not wanting to give an answer – too disoriented, your nostrils are filled with the smell of sea and blood. You feel light-headed, dizzy, you’re hungry and dehydrated and you don’t know how could you even proceed to resist when one of his tentacles goes through the bars of your cage. Caresses your face, surprisingly gentle. Smearing cold slime around your skin, but even this is a welcoming feeling – you’d take everything that isn’t damp air of the human compound and the old sweat tattering your skin. You’d give anything for a bath right now. At least a few wet wipes, to wash the grime off your face – to stop feeling like an animal even though you know you’re already been reduced to one. — Just dumb, then. Gut. Monster caresses your face for a while, admiring your features. Salty tears feel like heaven on his tentacles – you can’t possibly see him, but he is grinning under that weird hood of his, adoring how obedient you are. It might be just exhaustion, but he missed humans like this – broken and abandoned. Soft and adorable, crying at the brim of a hat. König is going to have a lot of fun breaking you in – you couldn’t possibly be worse than the last wife he took. He wants to see you round and filled with his eggs. He wants you to see you cry for his cock, begging him to fill you up like the dumb, pathetic human you are. He wants to lay in the nest with you, pressing his body against yours – stealing the coolness of your body, covering you with his tentacles like a perfect chewing toy. He wants to… — Ah, sir. This is the new one. Just took her yesterday. 

A merchant smiles, slimy face spreading in a wide grin. Tentacles retreat from your face and shoulders immediately, only leaving a small trace of liquid over your features. If you were dumb enough, you could have sworn the monster was affectionate – but you don’t want to be dumb. Can’t survive in this world only on silliness, unfortunately. — I will take this one. — B…but it isn’t properly domesticated yet! You know how wild strays can be, colonel… — I thought you said all pets were properly obedient? 

— W…well, of course, sir, but… — I don’t need a trained slut to carry my eggs. This one would do nicely. Consider this your sacrifice to the order, ja? Before you know it, the merchant showed you in the hands of a giant man. Colonel, as you heard – not knowing proper military ranks, you wonder how high it can be. Or low. Monsters only value power and personal strength – and the merchant was fucking terrified of the tentacle creature who was holding you right now. Perhaps, you should have tried your chances of running away and being killed. Perhaps, you should have slowly died of hunger instead of coming out for supplies. `You’re held high in the air – too high for your liking. The monster presses you against his chest like he expects you to run away any second now – and you want to, really, nothing you’d love more but to simply jump off and run for the hills. But you’re too exhausted, the hunger sitting deep in your empty stomach makes you think that, maybe, for whatever reason this monster bought you for, he’d at least feed you. Maybe turn you into a pet – this is why there are stores for captured humans, right? Humans were treating their pets nicely, maybe the monster wouldn’t be too far off. Tentacles are swirling around your legs, around your hands – now you can’t even move your neck properly, cheek squished against a warm chest. This monster is a weird one – it’s like he can’t stop his tentacles from touching you, the cold tips of his tendrils spreading slime on the dryness of your skin. His body is warmer than any human would be, and his tentacles are cold – the contrast against your naked skin, barely covered by your torn clothes, is making you crazy. Making you think about weird things – like the monster reproduction again. Like your empty tummy, like the friends you left at the compound when you were supposed to go for supplies. Not getting captured by one of the monster higher-ups.

— You’re soft for a human. You weren’t even sure he was talking to you at first. You’ve been walking for a couple of minutes before you could finally hear some traces of civilization. Roaring vehicles. Gunfire. Laugh and groans – moans, too, to your surprise, not all of them very pain-induced. Your face is still pressed in his chest, you can’t see anything meaningful – but he stops in some corner, you think, covering you in his arms like a package he needed to deliver. You aren’t sure if you remember what the word “package” means. Something naughty, you think. — Quiet, too. 

You still don’t answer, and he hums. Pushes you on the ground, suddenly – you fall on your ass, yelping in pain and surprise as you lay on something softer than a concrete floor. It’s a pile of mattresses, you realize. You’re in a room, you realize – still too dizzy after everything that’s happened, you didn’t even notice when he entered the building and pushed you away from the sounds of life you wanted to hear so much of. You’re sitting on your ass on the pile of soft, rotten mattresses – a faint smell of decay builds up in your nose, but you can’t even concentrate. The tentacles are spreading your legs suddenly – you cry and whimper, your walls breaking down to reveal a soft center because the monster tears away your pants with ease. Your clothes weren’t much, to begin with, dirty and torn after the capture – still, you don’t want to be naked in front of him. You don’t want to be naked in front of anyone. 

— Spread your legs, human. You don’t want to, but you obey – you don’t wish to give him an opportunity to pry your legs open, to use force and make your life even more miserable. You know that being so obedient is kind of pathetic but, honestly, you couldn’t care less at this point. If being pathetic would save you from a broken leg, you will spread yourself open. Place each ankle on the side of the rotten mattress, not even caring that the thing fabric of your clothes – whatever little is left there – is slowly whiskered away by the tentacles. His hands are worse, somehow. He pushes your legs a bit wider, making you hiss from the stretch – and then he tears off your underwear. Not even letting you a chance to save your dignity – before you could cover yourself with your hands, at least, he is already launched at your cunt, smaller tendrils swirling around your core. You’re dry, obviously – and the monster tilts his head to the side. Acknowledging. Looking. He isn’t soft in his movements and the prying attention makes you embarrassed – if your legs weren’t in hid hold already, you’d try to close them. To save yourself. His motives are obvious, his intentions are clear – still, you sob and whine i his hold when his hand slowly presses on the button of your clit. The colonel – you try to remember this, it’s probably important –  is somewhat slow – he pushes your inner lips, spreads your hole as much as you can with a meager amount of fluid from the slime of his tendrils and, somehow, you find yourself getting aroused. Maybe, it’s his attention – he isn’t laying his eyes off you, and it almost makes you blush too much. He is adorable in this way if a monster of his regard can even be called this – and you’re freaking terrified when he goes closer, looks at you even more. 

His hand is making squelching sounds as your cunt becomes wetter by the second – it’s the first time in forever you had this kind of attention, and surviving the monster revolution didn’t exactly help with getting the edge off. You’re desperate for anyone to touch you – and the monster has beautiful hands. Big and burly, with tendrils sometimes running around to add even more lube – you know you’d never get anything like this with a normal human. — Need to check you first, Maus. The merchant keeps sending me infertile ones. You don’t know what he is talking about – but his hand lays flat on your tummy, putting you in place, and the larger tentacle – big, slimy one, with uneven structure with little bumps that made you wonder how it’s even going to fit inside – slowly creps to your sloppy, wet opening. It doesn’t hurt, you’re wet and open – something in the lube he extracted made you dizzy, dumb, you don’t even know when you spread your legs a bit more and welcomed the intrusion. It feels right, it feels wrong, it feels like the thing to die for – it feels like something that could kill you. He laughs and it sends slow rumbles right to the tendril penetrating your pussy. The pressure on your clit is too much – and your brain is to foggy to think that it reminds you more of a medical exam than actual sex. The tentacle inside is vibrating, twisting and turning, pressing on your cervix – it should feel painful, it can’t be this good but, somehow, you welcome the feeling of being this fucking full. You don’t buck your hips, but you cry and moan – and it’s enough of an indication of your pleasure. Monster laughs, his other hand goes to lay on your face – a surprisingly gentle gesture. Short-lived, but you could still feel the warmness lingering on your tattered skin. It’s hot and cold with him – you aren’t sure what comes next, but the tendrils are sliding in and out, probing at the entrance of your womb and, despite everything, you feel the knot in your stomach untying. The orgasm is a quiet one – build up is slow and small, and it doesn’t make you black out – but you whimper nonetheless, the tight embrace of his hands on your body feeling more like a cage than a normal hug. He is too powerful, probably not sure about his strength – you feel him squishing you like a fruit. The slime is leaking from your empty pussy, clenching around nothing. — Obedient. You’d be a good vessel for my eggs, human. You whine, turning away from him. He chuckles, pressing you in his arms again. Like a child with his favorite new toy – you feel squeezed and touched in various places, his tentacles having a mind on their own. Not an inch of flesh getting ungroped. — Ar…are you going to kill me? — Ach. You can talk after all. — Are you going to… — No. Have a much better way to use you. He chuckles in your hair, pressing his face in it. Inhales the scent – if he has nose, of course. This stupid hood conceals everything, not letting you know anything besides his rank. Which makes you think about…

— What is your name? 

A stupid question, really. You shouldn’t care about the name of a monster who bought you – still, you don’t want to refer to him as just “a monster”. This dumb part of your brain wants closure. — König. Remember it, little human. Oh. So his name is König. Somehow, it doesn’t make you feel any better. 

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Not My Type

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader x Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2,329 Masterlist Part 2

Summary: Bucky is dumb.

Warnings: Fatphobia.

A/N: something short, sweet and simple because I’m starting to feel guilty about not posting 😭

Steve watched, as his friend searched around the club with his eyes. He could assume Bucky was just waiting on the rest of their coworkers to get there, but he knew better. “She’ll get here soon enough, relax.”. Steve leans his back against the booth and takes a long drink of his beer. “Who?” Bucky asks, unconvincingly.

“Y/N.” He says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Bucky scrunches up his face “As if, man.” He ignores the look of disbelief Steve gives him. “Why deny it? I’ve caught you staring her down more times than I can count.”. Steve stands up and waves to signal Natasha to where they sat. “There’s nothing to deny, she’s not my type, leave it there so no one’s feelings get hurt, okay?” Bucky puts the bottle to his lips to shush himself when he sees you approach the booth.

“You guys look.” Steve’s speechless as he takes in the silk nighties the girls adorned. They all wore semi matching babydoll dresses. Color coded fishnets and heeled slippers adorned their long legs. Their hair was high and teased, makeup adding to the sultry bedtime look they were going for.

“You’re gonna catch flies.” Wanda remarks, leaving to find Vision having the time of his life with the DJ. Steve’s reaction to their costumes did nothing to calm your nerves. You went with the housewife costume too. Just a different approach entirely. Your hair sat in victory rolls atop your head, a thick stack of curls laying on your shoulders, a knee length dress with three quartered sleeves covered you. You’re painted your eyebrows on thinly, just to over line your lips, filling them in with your favorite red Mac lipstick. You were the most modest in your costume, but the most accurate.

You couldn’t wear a see through nightgown to the club. You would die of embarrassment, your rolls would be everywhere. At least in this thick cotton dress, no one could see the layers of shape wear you wore. You slid into the booth and sat beside Steve, getting sandwiched in when Sam finally arrives, late with no costume. “What took you so long, huh khakis?” You tease him, feeling nothing but comfort in his presence.

“You ever had to tell a 10 year old his idea isn’t good enough.” He laughs, “, You should go as yourself Unc!” He recalls the boys words over the phone. “Oh, of course, looks like a superhero to me!” You giggle, loving the thought of his nephews building up his self esteem. He was new to the team, no super strength or speed. Just courage, you admired Sam.

You finally take the chance to look around the booth. Steve wore his vintage Captain America suit, claiming it still fits like a glove. Bucky didn’t wear a costume, just his regular black t-shirt and leather jacket, no effort, even for Halloween. It helped Sam not look so out of place, so you just rolled your eyes at him. He tried way to hard to act like he didn’t care about anything, or anyone. You hate people like that, too self absorbed to carry on a conversation with someone who doesn’t benefit them.

You had been on the wrong side of his attitude before. Bumbling up to him after your first meeting. Stretching out your hand for a shake, he barely touched your hand as he shook your fingers, nodding at you with a curt “Welcome.” You didn’t think much of it till he sat beside Yelena, who got recruited the same day as you, and sparked up a lively conversation with her, telling her if she needs anything at the compound to come ask him. That was the first time Bucky hurt your feelings, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“Y/N!” Someone yells at you from the dance floor. It’s Yelena dancing alone, “You promised me a dance.” She says, holding her arms out for you. You nudge Sam on the shoulder and do the most embarrassing scoot out of the booth you could imagine. Your dress rode up in the time you’d been sitting there, causing your thighs to stick to the old leather. Your face grimaces and you peel your skin away, hoping no one noticed.

“I’m on the dance floor, as promised.” You say, holding her hands while she dances on you. “You’re gonna need to do more than stand there if you want him to notice you.” She remarks, not skipping a beat. Yelena knew you too well, she knew you picked the 40s for a reason, not going with their free spirit 60s slumber get up.

Giving her a wide eyed look, as if he heard over the thumping music. “We both know I have no rhythm, stop that.” You giggle when she presses her back against you and slides down into a squat. She goes behind you and grabs your hips, forcing you against her chest. She grinds you into her pelvis, using her hands to guide your hips in sync with hers. You never moved that way before, and the sensuality of it had your heart racing. Yelena could be anyone, tightly holding on to you, you closed your eyes and threw your head back on her shoulder, just to imagine it was him for a moment.

You feel Yelena’s lips tickle your ear and she’s whispering “Look who can’t take their eyes off of you.” You tilt your head down and open your eyes to lock them with Bucky’s. He looks angry, like you pissed in his cheerios. You turn your body around to face Yelena, “I think he’s upset I’m blocking his view from you.”. That causes her to laugh out loud, grabbing your shoulders to shake you. “You’re mad woman! Look at what’s right in front of you.”. You laugh and look behind you to see Bucky staring down his beer now, instead of you.

“Yelena, I don’t know how to put this, he probably doesn’t even go for girls like me, skinny blonde seems more his type. You, you seem more his type.” You plead with her. She just shakes her head, “He doesn’t like me, I promise, Y/N.” You nod your head, trusting the closest friend you had.

You make your way to the bar, grabbing a drink to cool yourself off. You’re walking back to the booth to get off your feet when you overhear Steve and Bucky’s conversation.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“You look like a helpless puppy, just make your move.”

“As if I’d need to, she’s probably never had male attention, that’s too easy.”

“Just admit that you’re afraid of rejection.”

“From her? Never in a million years would fatty have a chance. Like I said she’s obviously not my type.”. Bucky instantly regretted the words as they came out of his mouth, he didn’t mean it. But Steve wouldn’t stop accusing him of having a crush on you.

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but you push them down. You knew better, Yelena didn’t, you shouldn’t have let her give you false hope. You choke down your pride and turn the corner, sliding into the booth as if nothing happened. “I think this is my last drink guys, I’m getting tired, and winter training starts tomorrow.”.

An echo of ‘boos’ and a “noooo why.” Almost tempt you to stay. But you know you’re not wanted here, by the one person that mattered. Steve catches your attention, “Are you sure? The nights still young.” He wiggles his brows. You give him a tight lipped smile, knowing he tried to get Bucky to make a move.

“Yeah, there’s really not much for me here. I came for Natasha.” He nods, giving Bucky a death glare. You finish your drink and when you stand up the previous shots you had with Wanda hit you. You quickly sit back down, grabbing the table for stability. “Are you alright?” Steve rests his hand on your lower back, scooting closer to you.

You shake your head, not being able to form words. You think you’d faint if you didn’t focus on breathing. “Let me help you home.” He can see the unsure expression on your face. “Wouldn’t be respecting the suit if I didn’t make sure you got home safe.”. With that he convinced you.

When the cold October air hits your face, it sobers you a little bit, taking away the dizzy feeling, leaving you with a thumping head. Steve takes a few minutes to join you outside, you left him in a heated whisper match with Bucky.

You’re leaned against the side of the building when he finds you. “Ready to go?” He offers you his arm but you shake your head. “No need to be such a gentleman, it’s just me.” You say, knowing he’s doing it just to be nice.

Steve cocks his head to the side. “Why shouldn’t I be a gentleman towards you?” He asks. You press your pounding head against the brick wall, closing your eyes to think of the right words. “The only reason a guy needs to be a gentleman is for good impressions. I highly doubt you feel a need to impress me.”.

He scoffs at you, “What gives you the impression that you’re not worth impressing?”. Even though you were tipsy, Bucky’s words seared your frontal lobe. You suddenly are at a loss for words. How do you tell him you were eavesdropping on their conversation.

“I just don’t get much male attention I guess.” You let him in, his eyes widen in realization that you heard Bucky’s harsh words. “I’m sorry about him, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” He says, stepping closer to you. You roll your eyes at him.

“No, he knew exactly what he was talking about. Fatty is no one’s type. No one looks at me and thinks “woah, the most beautiful woman in the world just walked in the room”.” You push yourself off the wall. “I understand that you wouldn’t get that, since you’re so perfect Steve. Women lay down at your feet, your options are endless. But not for someone like me.”.

Steve’s face had turned into a stone. His jaw clenched tightly. He let you vent out your frustrations. “The way you looked at the girls, the way half the club looked at the girls, I’ll never have that.”. You look at your feet and notice him take a step closer to you. You look up to see your faces not too far apart.

“I was looking at you too.” He reaches out, letting his hands hover over your waist. He rests them on your hips when your don’t push him away. “I don’t care what he said, he’s just insecure, he can’t admit that he thinks you’re hot.” You scoff at him this time.

“Steve whatever you’re doing, I get the whole nice guy thing. But just stop.” You say, pressing your hand against his chest. The thin polyester did nothing to conceal his smooth muscles. You feel him squeeze your sides tighter, his thumbs pressing into your belly. “He doesn’t speak for me.”.

You look into his dark eyes. “What are you saying?”. You’d never even humored yourself by considering Steve. You now had to rethink every encounter you ever had with him. “Forget him, let me show you how a real man appreciates a woman.”

He slides his hands down, letting them grasp as much of your ass that could fit in them. You gasp, he wasn’t afraid of your body, he knows what it has to offer. Judging by the way he gripped on to your ass like his life depended on it, he liked it.

“What if someone sees?” You say, pushing his hands off of you. He replaces them “I’m not afraid, why are you?” He leans down, connecting your lips, you’re frozen for a moment. How do you kiss him back? Before you could find out you feel a hand on your shoulder, ripping you away from Steve.

“What are you doing?” Bucky is talking to his friend, ignoring your existence. “Excuse me, we were in the middle of something.” Steve steps between you and Bucky. “You shouldn’t be out here hooking up with a random coworker.” Bucky says, trying to convince himself.

“Y/N isn’t a random coworker, Jesus Bucky, what’s your problem?” Steve asks, letting his anger show. He knew what he was doing, if Bucky wouldn’t admit it on his own, jealousy would work just fine. Bucky balls up his fists at his side “You know what my problem is.”.

You’re staring at Steve’s back, you don’t know what Bucky’s talking about. Is he so repulsed by a plus size woman, he doesn’t even want his friend with one? You were done, you’d never done anything to Bucky besides exist. He had an imaginary problem with you.

You stepped around Steve, crossing your arms in front of your chest. You don’t know where the boost of confidence came from, probably Steve’s lips and hand placement. You look Bucky up and down, truly taking him in.

He was perfect, and he knew it. It was starting to disgust you. “Just because ‘fattys’ like me have no chance with you, doesn’t mean that I’m not worthy of another man being attracted to me.” You take a step back, pressing yourself against Steve. Just to show Bucky, you meant business.

Basing it off of the hard indentation on the front of Steve’s spandex, he liked watching you tell Bucky off. You turn your body around to face him, throwing a look over your shoulder at Bucky, “Take me home Stevie.” You sing song in his ear.

A smirk falls on his lips, “Let’s do that princess.” He says while leading you out of the alley. Bucky is stuck in place, having an internal war with himself, that you weren’t gonna stick around for.

[hazashiovo]

Helloooo!! Can I request mako and bolín (seperate) being protective of their (s/o), thank you a lot<33

Ofc u can!

A/n: mako and Bolin have the most requests so far,I'm really glad tbh that people are submitting requests,keep em coming.i also added in Korra and Kuvira ,since this seems like a perfect imagine for them.

Genre: Fluff

Mako x reader, Bolin x reader, Kuvira x reader,Korra x reader (all separate)

Overprotective Lovers

Warnings: none.

Starting off with Mako,he's the kind of guy that doesn't take well to someone talking to you in some kind of mean way in front of him, especially if you're more a more naive person.

Even if you take care of yourself, he's still there making sure you're away from harms way.

If you ever get hurt or kidnapped,it's over for whoever did it, it's not like he's usually a calm person,but take away his favorite person and you got yourself a big problem to deal with.

Even when you're not exactly in danger, he's there. It's sweet really,but it can also be annoying when overdone.

You like being protected by him,but not all the time, he didn't like it when you talked to Korra, claiming since she's the avatar she would draw unnecessary attention over you and put you in complicated situations.

Of course you explain to him that you're a big girl and that you can watch over yourself,but he just can't understand it. {Sigh}.

Korra? Well she had her ups and downs. But she learned ,ok? Once you two got together ,this feeling that's she allways had grew stronger,her urge to protect you.

Of course she would blame it on the fact that she's the avatar,but really it was her being protective of you.

Even before dating her ,you knew this would draw a lot of attention to yourself, and potential enemies of the avatar would want to harm you. But that didn't stop you,after all you're free to love whoever you want even if it endangers you.

When Korra faced Amon she used to be Terrified something bad would happen to you, even her dreams would be hunted by dark images. She would see Amon preparing to take away your bending,but each time she would wake up before anything happened,in cold sweat,with you by her side.

If you're a light sleeper,you would assure her nothing happened to you,and that you're okay.

Even after she defeated Amon, more villains appeared,making Korra constantly worry about you. But one thing is sure, that she would always be there to protect you,and in case anything happens,to save you.

This boy is the most carefree of them all. He doesn't really have to worry that you would be kidnapped or hurt most of the time,but if it ever happens, either someone hurt you or something went wrong in the mission?

He's full boyfriend mode on. He wouldn't be like Korra or Mako, first thing he would do is bring you to safety, revenge not being his thing.

If you're okay ,that's what matters to him. But now if you're especially targeted by someone? He's not as chill as before. Especially since he recently learned how to lava bend, which makes him a pretty strong bender, definitely not the kind you would want to piss off by chasing around his girlfriend,nu uh.

Bolin knew it was a mistake to introduce you to his boss, Varrick.

That man would make flirty jokes with you,which always made Bolin roll his eyes and mock him quietly.

So what if he's smart and rich? You wouldn't like a prick like him.

Whenever Varrick got too close, your boy would be there to put distance between the two of you. It's not that he's jealous,but he knows how his boss is.

Yeah no. I doubt anyone would even try to threaten you while she's around.

After all the power and respect she gained, expect people to fear you just because you're with her. So mostly Kuvira doesn't have to worry that anyone is gonna try anything.

After all she made quite a name for herself.

Even so, being The Great Uniter's s/o came with it's disadvantages.

For example,if someone really wanted to hurt her,they would target you. You're her soft spot,and she knows it.

Yes,you have your personal guards picked by Kuvira herself. Just because she doesn't expect you to be attacked it doesn't mean she won't be prepared for it.

You're hers,and the world knows it.

.

.

A/n : I really enjoyed writing this,I might make another part with different characters :)

[wandasfifthwife]

finding you ₊✩°｡⋆˚ ⁺

— wandanat x fem/afab!reader

༺ tw || discussions of sexual acts/kinks but nothing (yet), reader deals with stress/anxiety, dom/sub dynamic/relationship, dom natasha/wanda w/ sub reader, reader’s personality is described to be shy/anxious/introverted, not proofread

༺ a/n || I’ve never personally been in a dom/sub relationship, so if I get things wrong that’s why! If you’re getting into one— don’t use this as a guide/reference 😭

— masterlist ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ 3.2k words₊✩°｡⋆˚ ⁺ next part —

The city was truly a different world at night just with the way everything seems to take a breath of life. It was cooler, a breeze making its way through the buildings to cause goosebumps on any person walking by. It was cold enough that your friend had thought to try and hurdle you under their jacket, something you forgot to bring.

They didn’t seem to mind, pulling you under the warm blanket of a coat and rushing the two of you towards your apartment. You had just finished dinner—using it as a way to bond and meet up since work has separated you both for too long—and now we’re heading back to your apartment.

“You’re back,” one of your roommates speaks up from their location on the couch, “how was dinner?”

“Great, but I was freezing. You were right about bringing a jacket tonight, I really should’ve.”

“The winds tunnel through these buildings, it’s always good to pack a jacket.”

“Yes well thank you. Is it alright if my friend stays over?”

Your roommates waves a hand, dismissing her claim and focusing back on the tv show. The sounds of whatever bachelor show was playing quiets once you’ve shut your door behind you.

Your friend pins you with a look as she lays down flat into your bed, “what’s the deal with that person from work?”

“It’s really nothing, I think some people are just going through a rough time.”

“Okay well whatever—babe, it’s still not okay.”

There’s a creak in your bed once you’ve decided to join her, the old thing hanging on since you’ve not been able to afford a new one.

“Yeah sure they’ve made some rude comments, but they weren’t that bad.”

“Not to mention they also stole your idea and they’ve been aggressive towards you for no reason—tell them that they’re being a bitch.”

The emotions liked to confrontation are like sinking to the bottom of a body of water, suffocating. Your friend lies beside you, waiting, but her raised eyebrows give away her impatience, waiting to argue with you over your hesitation. A sigh makes it way out, a vocalization of how you’re feeling on the inside, “I really don’t know if I need to.”

“It’s less of a have to and more of a should do. Just be a bitch back,” she makes a poor attempt at reeling in her aggression after your expression of disgust, “or at least talk to someone higher up.”

“I’ll maybe talk to someone later—“ you put a hand up to silence her oncoming attack “—and that’s it. I appreciate you caring.”

“I just want you to be able to stand up for yourself.”

“I know, and I love you for that, but I’m done with stressful topics. I’d like to just talk about exciting things.”

She deadpans, “but this fun.”

A laugh filled amusement fills the room, your foot coming to shove her. There’s a pause after, ears turning into the smaller and more minute sounds. Dramatic stage music, though silenced by your door, it’s loud enough to still make an entrance in your room along with the sirens outside. The sheets rustle as your friend moves onto her side, body facing towards you. It was a gentle breeze until she began to fight off a grin, the thoughts in her mind almost driving a crazed expression in her face.

“Have you thought anymore about what I said?”

“You talk a lot, which of those many conversations are you mentioning?”

“The stress-relieving one.”

The words are quick to bring a similar crazed expression on your own face, one similar to your friend’s but more terrified.

“No.”

“Aw come on. I do it and it’s worked wonders, I still know—“

“I’ve heard enough for one night, you’re too public with it—how’re you not embarrassed?”

She rolls, resting her head on you, “you’re shy, I’m not. I don’t care what others say.”

“You’re weird.”

Her shoulders upturned in a shrugging motion, the vibration from her low hum ticking your stomach. The floor creeks again when she slings her feet off the mattress to find something to eat, leaving you alone for a minute. It seemed to stretch forever due to waiting every second to ask her a burning question. It was nearly on fire when she finally came back, the words tumbling from you.

“Who’re the people?”

It was, technically, four words that set off an hour and a half conversation.

Your friend’s persistently paid off after about two months of bringing it up. It started out as a question to check up, formed into a joke/tease, and ended up as a proposal. You’ve eventually thawed, only tonight feeling comfortable enough to ask, allowing yourself to be curious. It was curiosity, but you strayed far away from any sexual conversations, feeling that topic would actually throw you over the edge.

You pick at your nails, a nervous habit to ease the discomfort of the vulnerable conversation, “what do you do?”

“You mean my role? It’s what I said before, I’m a dominant in our relationship.”

“How often do you do it?”

“Sex?”

Her hand swats at your shoulder, enabling your fidgeting to become actions of aggression. You shove back, “fuck off.”

“Anyways, it depends on each relationship, but for us we fall into it most nights. Usually they come home and I can pick up the signs. I came to understand their body language about a month after us dating that they’re feeling a specific way.”

“Too intimate.”

“Oh yeah, it’s intimate and entirely built on trust. It’s why I love it so much,” your friend reached a hand over, stretching to reach until her fingers wrap around her phone, “I’ll send you their number. It’s entirely up to you from this point on. But genuinely though, if anything I say is making you uncomfortable let me know. I truly have just wanted to help.”

It wasn’t brought up again. An episode of some old show capturing the both of your attention the rest of the night, her scratchy laugh engraved in your mind from how often she found the dialogue hilarious. A small red mark forming from when she got too excited, jumping on the bed and bouncing your body to move and hit a dull item nearby. Thankfully you don’t have neighbors that occupy the room below you.

It was a sad goodbye when you both had the knowledge of how busy your schedules were. You had a form of contact, your phone, but you didn’t always have access to her in person. The lights in the apartment were shut off, the dark almost navy hue covers the room. You clicked your phone on, squinting from the onset of light before checking your recent text from her, “their” contact information sitting open on your phone for the night.

It turned out to be a weak battle, with the conflict being between man vs man. You had daily arguments with yourself, both sides—heart and mind—fighting with valid reasons. You don’t know if they’d be a weirdo overtime. They could not win your trust, or understand you, step over you like your coworker at work has been.

It could be a waste of time to be so intimate with someone and have the time come to a close, so you make a new space in your contacts for their number. You had a simple message typed out, introducing yourself and how you got their number, and then prompt turned your phone off.

The waiting period consumed you.

Brushing your teeth, you’d flip your phone to find that the notification was another spam email from a store you visited two years ago, reminding you to unsubscribe yet again. At work, you’d even pulled your phone from where it rested under your thigh to check whenever it buzzed. It was impossible to deny when the evidence was written all over your face, but you liked to believe you didn’t care.

The earth spun a whole two times and you’d still gotten no response. You checked your phone less, initial nerves transforming right into worry. Were you bothering them?

“Stop fretting,” your friend told you over the phone and then proceeding to let out a laugh at your embarrassed rant, all about how you regret reaching out.

“Hey, I wouldn’t have hooked you up if I thought they weren’t interested. It’s barely been two days.”

“You’re right,” your phone sat across from you, giving you the perfect view to stare at her personalized contact photo,

“Give it time.”

You had another speech about to spill about how you’re not going to obsessively check anymore, but that buzzed sound you’ve grown to respond to rapped against your wooden table.

Your lungs contract, closing when a contact with no profile photo and definitely no name appears. Your friend’s voice becoming background noise as your focus snaps to the unopened message, watching it as it slides away.

“Okay well I have to sleep. Love you, stop freaking out.”

The call ends abruptly, a habit of hers you’re usually frustrated with but now you’re grateful. Nerves at a new high for the day when a second message comes in. Feet patter on the hound, carrying you to climb into your room.

Realizing they’ve messaged you back is both an energy drainer and giver. Lights bright on your face while you’re unlocking your phone, clicking on the chat button. Your mind makes up the worst scenarios in hopes to keep your expectations low, but as your eyes sweep across the text a smile appeared on your face.

Long text summarized, they’d love to meet you in person and brief information was shared. They’d agreed to meet halfway at a coffee shop in Manhattan named, “coffee project nyc.”

The closest subway station was swarmed with a dozen people, the time on your phone being the explanation behind why others were brushing against you on the train. They contained to when after the train had arrived, pulling you along with them like a terrible tide.

Your phone map is a virtue, showing you the route until the cafe is in sight just across the street. It was across the street but your feet were stuck to the side you were on. Seconds passed like milliseconds, speeding up like your breathing.

The door had a little bell, one that rang when you walk through and sit down at the closest open seat to you. Eyes set on your phone screen like you were doing something meaningful by scrolling through already opened texts.

A new text appeared, a statement, telling you that they’d arrive. It wasn’t the intention, but you realized you hadn’t told them you had also arrived. The bell rung as it did for you, signaling to you and the others in the building that another had entered.

Her tone was clear when she spoke to you, leaning so she can look at your eyes. An air of calm around her when she introduced herself, saying how nice it was to meet in person.

“Is there anything you’d like from here? Natasha’s in line to get herself something.”

“Oh no,” you internally wince at how high your tone is pitched, “I’ll just pay for my own later!”

“It’s on us if you’d like any,” she repeats the offer with a smile. The scent from all the coffee beans and tea leaves is too addicting, filling your senses and pulling at the right heart strings to make you weak.

“If it’s okay could I maybe get a tea?”

“That’s perfectly fine. Natasha hasn’t ordered you yet, you can go tell her your order,” she says, words emphasized by her finger directing you to find the women fifth in line. An apology comes out as a whisper, feeling bad when you have to cut between two people holding a conversation.

“Hi,” you breathe, feeling nervous about being pushed to her warm body by those in line and others trying to move about.

“Breathe,” she says, pausing your sentence until she’s seen you visibly take a breath.

“Sorry,” you say, the unwarranted apology causing her eyebrows to furrow.

“Why sorry? You don’t have any reason to be.”

You say it again but she makes no pays if no mind, a gentle hand coming to rest under your forearm.

“Would you like something?“

The words you had spoken to wanda are repeated, asking about ordering a tea with another apology following right after. You fear she’s upset, but every movement she makes is kind, soft.

“You don’t have to apologize. Go wait with Wanda, I’ll bring it over once it’s made, okay?”

You thank her what feels like ten times, hoping each one is more sincere than the other before stepping away, mindful of the kicked up carpet. Wanda’s smiling at you, reaching over to push your chair out.

“Did you get a tea?”

“I did, thank you two—seriously—I appreciate this.”

Her response comes out as a hum, the words, ‘of course,’ mended together through the one sound, “how was your ride over? You mentioned the trip only being a few minutes, correct?”

“Usually yes.”

“Have you been here before then?”

“Not really, I don’t go out often. If I did I’d ruin my budget plan.”

The smell of the store is amplified once the cup is placed in front of you, the gentle steam floating off the top smelling exactly like the aroma in the small room. The seat to the right of you is pulled out, taken by Natasha a second later. Hers smells of coffee, a darker roast you’re familiar with from one of your roommates making it in the morning.

She picks through the sugars on the table, ignoring Wanda’s advice to leave the sweetness alone; Wanda mentions again how it impairs her dreams, giving her terrible nightmares instead. Natasha acknowledges what she says and still pours two in, her defense being the brand labeling itself as a ‘natural sugar’ as opposed to some other popular companies.

You turn to Wanda, “do you like to drink coffee or tea?”

“I do,” she says, fingers brushing under yours to stabilize the tilting hold you had on the cup, “every now and then I’ll get a tea.”

She quirks a quick smile, the mood fading fast once she’s turned her attention to Natasha and how bright the coffee has become. Natasha pulls the cup away from her extending grasp, bringing the cup to her lips with a grin.

“Do you work?”

“I do! I work in marketing at a real estate company, basically meaning I create pamphlets and design their websites. Do either of you have a job?”

Natasha keeps the mug in her hands, not letting go despite the heat, “we do. I work as a mechanical engineering, Wanda’s does corporate finances.”

You later worry about how your emotions are written on your sleeve seeing how they noticed the slightest change in your body language. Wanda lets her hand drift off of yours seeing as you’re now paying attention to how you’re holding it, “what do you do?”

“Nothing crazy like that. I sell art pieces, occasionally teach somewhere like an art class or work as a substitute for a school if needed.”

“Did you go to school for art?”

“I did, somehow passed to with how strict a few teachers were.”

They then ask to see a piece you’ve done, listening to every word you’re saying on every detail of each individual piece. You show ones you’ve sold, ones you’ve given as gifts to friends/family members, and some you’ve painted for yourself. You ease into the moment with every passing minute, tense muscles and fidgeting movements calming.

The room is small, but busy. A multitude of conversations being held in one place, all forming and coming together like the infamous background ambiance.

A watch on Wanda’s wrist catches light when she flicks her sleeve down to check the time, a deep sigh coming from her when she realizes it’s past 9:30PM, “it’s getting late.”

Natasha hums, grabbing your cups and stacking them to take to the dish bins nearby. You stand when she does, grabbing your coat to toss over your shoulders.

“We can walk you home if you’d like, it is quite dark out.”

You take a glance as well, the scarcity of light on the street enough for you to accept her help. The sidewalks are small, pushing you to walk so close to them you’ve stepped on Natasha’s shoes two times already. They keep close to you, sitting beside you in the subway ride. You’ve told them that you’re grateful they’ve offered to walk you back, but that you also feel bad for taking up their time. They keep reassuring you, every time gentle, if not gentler than the last.

The street becomes familiar again, the lights from your balcony coming into view. The little store building with the apartment complex above it, your little home. It’s never fully quiet, but at this minute in the hour it almost feels like it’s just the three of you. An occasional car, bike, and stranger may walk by, but you barely notice.

“Would you like to see my apartment?”

“I wouldn’t mind a tour,” wanda says, her words making you smile and excitedly being to unlock the door. It’s late enough that either your roommates are out or asleep, leaving you and them to walk into a silent space. It’s entirely too quick tour; only showing them your balcony, bedroom, living room, and kitchen while trying to be quiet for the one roommate trying to sleep.

Wanda calls your name, finding you in your bedroom after hearing where your voice came from and following it. Your room is reflectively dark, only light source coming from the dim lamp by your bed. The one you’ve been meaning to repair.

“How’re you feeling?”

“I’m good, a bit tired.”

“I mean about this.”

Your lips fall slightly ajar, taken a bit off guard. She’s not rushing you at all, leaning against your vanity. She’s even gone far enough to not make you even more nervous by moving her gaze anywhere but you.

“I—“ you freeze momentarily when you realize Natasha’s come to stand in your doorway, “I’d like to if that’s okay with you.”

“We’d love to. Later tonight I can send you some papers for you to look over whenever you feel ready.”

You nod, thanking them with a smile. They bid you goodnight, both mumbling sweet words about the night. They both pull you into them, wrapping their arms around you in a gentle embrace before pulling back. You’re inside with heating AC and yet when they pulled back you felt colder.

Once the doors shut, the rooms entirely too quiet, the silence emphasizing the emptiness of their disappearance. They already made an impression, their good nights making you feel twice elated. It shows in your night routine, a smile etched on your face from the night. How beautiful they are, how someone they wished to also see you again, how they were mindful and intentional.

You had gotten dressed, wrapped up in your sheets with your phone settled between you, scrolling through the sweet text they sent after and the documents. The first were fine, but the last few brought nerves to the surface. Explicit acts and suggestive themes filled the page, maybe half you’ve never heard of. They were reassuring though, stating that you’d all run through them together once finished. During the whole process they were helping to answer any questions or concerns you had until you were ready to print and fill it out. After a week and a half you make your relationship official.

— masterlist ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ taglist below₊✩°｡⋆˚ ⁺ next part —

@simpforlizzie @maggieromanov @angelbeingatitspurest @cerberus-spectre @olicity-boo @huggingkoalas @wandasbunnyy @babykingslayer @marigoldenblooms @godhatesgoodgirls @evmaximoff @tobiaslut @lzzysfreak @caporaI-nino @mommysfavouritegirl

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | S.H.

Warnings: hurt/no comfort, angst, sad ending, allusions to cheating, heartbreak, break up, King!Steve, popular!reader, poorly proofread

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader | Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Summary: Steve is slipping through your fingers and you desperately hold onto him not realizing that his heart isn't yours anymore.

Word count: 2k

Note: This is only the preview, I wanted to see how this will do before I write the actual story! @take-everything-you-can thank you for listening to my ideas and helping with more!

-

The red wine is seeping through his shirt, staining his soft skin with it’s stickiness. He clumsily tries to wipe it off with a random cloth he found in Tina's bathroom, as though it would help, as though he could undo it, as though the redness hasn’t already stained too much of the blue material. 

He is mumbling incoherent words under his breath. 

You roll your eyes, reaching for the cloth in his hands, “it’s not coming off, Steve–”

“It’s coming,” he mumbles, drunkenly.

You sigh, walking around him, you put the cloth on the counter and reach out to him, cupping his cheeks, “come on, just let me take you home.” 

“Why don’t you go home?” 

He looks down at you with a look in his eyes that you aren’t familiar with. He furrows his brows as he looks into your eyes, searching for something that he won’t find in your eyes, ever. 

You are scared of it, you are scared of him, of what he feels, of what changed. You act like you don’t know what changed, you act like you are clueless, you act like you are unaware of everything that’s been going on behind your back. But you know everything. 

You know that Steve isn’t who you want him to be. 

He is King Steve and you are the queen of Hawkins High– you didn’t give that title to yourself, you never would, in a way it’s humiliating to you that people claim you to be some sort of queen, some mere girl that people look up to for some reason. You are nothing but a simple girl and Steve is nothing but a simple guy but unlike you, he loves the attention, especially the one he gets from all the girls, the ones that make him feel desired. You always hated the way he flirted with them even when he was already with you– he said he only did it because of Tommy and the other guys from the team, they always encouraged him to flirt with them. You didn't understand it, you would never do that to him. His flirtations were only halfhearted and he never actually did anything but it did nothing to make you feel better. Still, you stayed with him because you loved him and because you knew that he only did it for show, to keep up his stupid reputation.

After all he did only have eyes for you. Only you were allowed to see sides of him that no one else saw, only you got lingering looks, soft touches and kisses, only you got to lay in his arms and listen to the beat of his heart, only you were his girl, his only girl. Only you got all the I love you's.

He took you out on dates, he gave you flowers, he kissed you in his car, in downtown bars, behind the school, in his room, in your room. He made you happy like no one else did. He once did.

You were his first love, you had hoped that you would be his only love but then she came along and his love for you was just gone. 

When he suddenly stopped flirting with every girl that batted her lashes at him, you had hoped that he finally stopped caring about what his friends thought, you had hoped that he was finally ready to show everyone that he wasn’t like that, that he wasn’t some playboy who needed more than his girlfriend to keep him interested and satisfied but that was simply too much to wish for. You were a fool for considering that in the first place.

His eyes strayed away from you weeks ago, he had set his eyes on her, the girl that stole him and his heart away from you like it was nothing.  

Nancy Wheeler. 

The pretty freshman who was assigned to be his partner in some stupid history project. 

You knew that he was gone the moment he stopped calling you every night just to hear your voice before going to bed, you knew that his love had started to vanish when even after the project was over, he kept canceling or even forgetting date nights, you knew that his heart wasn’t yours anymore when you caught him staring at her with a look in his eyes that you wished to see when he looked at you. 

He isn’t yours anymore but you still hold onto him because he is still here, right in front of you and he puts his hand around your wrists, not hers. He looks into your eyes, not hers. But he doesn’t look at you with love or adoration in his eyes, no. He looks at you with something– with nothing. There is nothing in his eyes and you can already feel yourself growing sick because you know that this is it. You knew this was coming, you knew this would happen eventually, he will leave you, for her. 

You don’t know what happened between them, if anything happened at all, you don’t know if he crossed that line yet, he did emotionally but did he physically?

Your heart begins to pound in your chest, the sound of the music outside is too loud, even when you are stuck in this bathroom with your very drunk boyfriend who is about to shatter your heart into tiny little pieces, you still hear the music and it’s hurting your ears. Your throat tightens and your vision blurs. You feel like you are suffocating. 

“W-Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, not even recognizing your own voice, it’s so shaky and so far away. 

Steve frowns, he shakes his head a little as he keeps looking at you. His eyes flicker down to your cheeks, to your nose that he used to kiss every time he would say goodbye, your lips that are trembling from the fear that is running through your body, he holds your wrists tighter as he looks back into your tear filled eyes.

What is he doing? 

You step closer to him, blinking those tears away, you whisper his name, begging and pleading with your eyes. You love him. God, you love him so much. 

He says your name. Not baby, not honey, not babe, not princess. He says your name. 

“L-Let’s go home, okay?” You mumble shakily, tearing your eyes away from his, “let’s just go home together.” 

"Together?" He slurs as he stumbles forward a little, you steady him by grabbing his waist.

“Yeah, you wanted to stay with me, remember?” 

“I-I don’t wanna stay with you, I don’t wanna be with– with you,” he mumbles, closing his eyes, he sighs. You smell the alcohol in his breath, the wine on his shirt and it makes you feel nauseous. He grabs your shoulders and suddenly his touch is too much, knowing that it’ll be the last time he touches you. 

“W-What do you mean?”

He is too drunk to see how scared you really are, how hurt you truly are. He is too much of a fool to see anything. 

“You heard me,” he says as he gets closer to your face, “I don’t want to be with you,” he spits. 

You draw back, furrowing your brows and holding your breath as you feel your heart dropping to your stomach, of course you weren’t prepared for this even though you saw it coming. 

“Why not?”

He looks bad, his hair is messy from all the tugging all night, his eyes are red rimmed and he has dark circles beneath them, like he had been up all night, his eyes are filled with so many things yet none at all, right now, you don’t recognize him. 

He is gripping your shoulders tightly, you wish it’s because he is afraid to let you go. 

“I’m not in love with you anymore.” 

And just like that, with a few simple words, he broke your heart. 

Steve Harrington, the man you gave your heart to so willingly, despite your friends warning you about him, despite all the warning signs, you gave him your heart and you never regretted it even though you should have but he was your Steve. He was. 

Steve awaits a reaction from you. He expects you to break down, to slap him, to push him away from you, to ask why but you don’t. In fact, you don’t give him a reaction at all, you just nod at his words, somehow managing to keep the tears from falling, your trembling lip tells him that you do want to cry though but you don’t. 

The bile rises in your throat, you want to throw up, you want to fall to your knees and puke your guts and your heart out but you swallow harshly and close your eyes for a moment, pressing your lips together to keep yourself from sobbing. 

Please wake up, please wake up. You think to yourself, let this be a dream, just a bad dream. You want to wake up, in his arms, in his embrace, you want to feel his kisses on your shoulder, his fingers running through your hair, to hear his morning voice, to hear him say I love you. But you will never get any of it again. It’s over. 

“Okay,” you whisper, shakily. 

You step away from him, pushing his hands off your shoulders, you nod to yourself as you open your eyes to look at him one last time, “okay.” 

An unfamiliar feeling runs through him, gripping at his heart, it hurts and he suddenly feels nauseous. He blinks and stares at you as though he doesn’t understand what just happened. 

You look into each other’s eyes, you both drown everything else out, the voices outside, the music and the ongoing party. 

It’s over. 

You feel grief, the way you felt it all this time already, knowing that this was coming. 

He feels it too, though he doesn’t understand it yet. He doesn’t understand what a huge mistake he just made, how much he will despise himself for doing this to you, how much he will come to regret this. When he feels the loss of your touch, his heart begins to understand a little. 

Deep down you know that he will come back to you, he will. 

Unable to stand around him any longer, you step away, “I’ll get Tommy or something, he’ll drive you home–”

“What about you?” He asks as though he didn’t just tell you that he doesn’t want to be with you.

Your heart is hurting, it’s hurting so badly that you start to forget what it ever felt like to be loved by him. Your tears threaten to fall so you step around him and reach for the doorknob, “goodbye, Steve.” 

He says your name but you don’t dare to turn around to face him, you keep the sob in, pushing it down as you open the door and step out of the room.

By the time the door slams shut, you are already crying, the tears are streaming down your face as you rush through the hallway and down the stairs, not caring about the looks of curiosity of the people around you, you don’t care about anything right now. 

You stumble down the stairs, almost crashing on the hardwood floor if it wasn’t for your friend catching you before you can even take the fall. 

“Hey, oh my god, are you okay?” She asks as she steadies you, watching you with concern in her blue eyes. 

You shake your head as you look at her. 

She looks around as though she is searching for someone but when her eyes settle on him standing by the stairs, not walking down just yet, she knows that it’s him who made you cry. 

She rolls her eyes, putting her arm around you, she pulls you away from the stairs and out of the house, wrapping her cardigan around you after you both step out into the cold. The front door closes and despite the loud music, the laughter and all the people around him, Steve swears that he heard it shut, it echoed and it made him wince in pain. 

He doesn’t understand the deep regret in his chest, the pain in his heart and the confusion in his soul. 

He doesn’t understand it yet. 

-

next part

[hongcherry]

how svt would react if their introvert s/o is socially exhausted

pairing/genres: svt x reader (gn); fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: none? (plz lmk if i overlooked something)

author's note: for this anon! coming up with 13 different scenarios is not as easy as it may seem LOL, but it was fun doing something i haven't done before, so thank you for the request! i hope you got some rest, anon 💗

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

Seungcheol

After you climb into Seungcheol’s car after one of your many social events this week, you fail to control your overwhelming emotions.

Seungcheol instantly panics at your sudden crying. It started with quiet sniffles, but now you’re borderline sobbing in your hands.

He wants to pull you into his arms, but it’s not as easy to do so since you’re in his car. Instead, he rubs your thigh with one hand and your back with the other.

“Did something happen tonight?” he asks. There’s a mix of worry and anger laced in his tone. He can’t help but picture someone doing something to upset you.

You shake your head and try to calm your cries.

Truthfully, you’re just overwhelmed with responsibility. You’re exhausted with the need to put on a comradely and upstanding appearance. You’re tired of having the same mindless small talks and being over-aware of your surroundings. You just want to stay at home rather than be in public.

Once Seungcheol knows the reason behind your tears, which he had a feeling about these past few days, he drives you both home. He rubs loving circles on your thigh throughout the trip, sending you words of encouragement every now and then. He doesn’t want to attribute to your overbearing emotions, but he wants you to know he’s here for you.

The night is spent cuddling in bed and eating takeout food. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s exactly what you need. He had offered to give you alone time, but you kept him close. You may not want to be around people, but Seungcheol is an exception. He’s your comfort person, someone you don’t have to put on an appearance for. Someone who understands you and knows how to lift your mood.

When you’re on the brink of sleep, you feel Seungcheol’s lips press against the back of your head. He whispers words of encouragement and tells you he’ll always be here for you. You smile, turn in his arms so you’re facing him, and hold him tightly. He chuckles softly at your reaction and holds you as tightly as you’re holding him.

Jeonghan

Jeonghan claims to want to be an island.

He wants to be a place where people can come and go, leaving their worries behind. Except you ended up shipwrecked on the island and made a home.

Jeonghan leans against the headboard of your shared bed. Your back is pressed against his chest, legs tangled under the covers. You want to spill all your troubles to him, but after constant social interactions, you find it difficult to even express your fatigue. Instead, you both cuddle in silence. Heavy rain falls outside; the pit-pat of the droplets luring you into calmness.

Jeonghan knows something’s wrong, but he’s not quite sure what. He whispers that he’s here for you when you’re ready. You nod, pressing yourself against his warm chest more as you peer at him. He grins and captures your lips in his. The kiss is slow, lazy movements that drag for a little too long, but you don’t care. You feel like life’s been too hectic; you need it all to slow down.

Jeonghan gives your body a gentle squeeze as he pulls away. Your gaze stays on his for a few seconds before you pull him down again.

While you adore Jeonghan’s playful attitude, it’s times like these when you feel extra special. You know he’ll always be there when you need him. Whether you need to rant to him for thirty minutes, cry for fifteen, or simply be near him.

Jeonghan’s your constant.

Joshua

“Babe, are you ready to g—”

Joshua stops mid-sentence upon seeing your dejected form on the couch, shoulders slouched, and a guilty look on your face.

Today was your and Joshua’s two-year anniversary, and he had planned a night out. Normally, you would be over the moon. However, with your constant attendance at social events the past week, you’re dreading going out.

This was meant to be a special night, but you feel like you’ve ruined it. You want to power through, but your body has had enough.

When you finally disclose your troubles with Joshua, he instantly sits next to you and gives you comforting back rubs. He tells you that there’s nothing to feel guilty about. That going out isn’t needed to celebrate your anniversary. He only needs to spend time with you; he doesn’t care the how or where.

So, after a few more reassuring words, you find yourself spending the night indoors with your handsome boyfriend doing mundane activities like cooking and watching shows with little talking. However, you and Joshua are past the awkward silences. You’re able to find comfort in the quietness with him.

And when he gives you random kisses and reassuring smiles throughout the night, you know the night wasn’t ruined by staying in. You just needed him.

Jun

Jun has always been attentive to your needs. After knowing you for years, he can tell when you’re feeling off. You’ve been less talkative, less energetic, and less focused. It’s almost like you’re just a shell of yourself—not really living but just going through the motions.

While you’re away at the nth social gathering, he leaves for the grocery store to gather all the ingredients he needs for your favorite dish. It may not be much, but he just wants you to feel better even if it’s for an hour.

Your routine for coming home nowadays includes taking off your shoes, changing into something more comfortable, and then lying in bed for a few hours until you get up for food.

Jun greets you from the kitchen sweetly and you answer as nicely as you can. It’s nothing against him, but you feel too drained to do or say much. You smell something familiar that makes your stomach rumble. Though before you can question it, Jun gently informs you to get dressed and then come to the dining room.

You mumble an “okay,” then do as you’re told.

Jun’s got the table set and a small, beautiful flower arrangement in the center.

“What’s this?” you wonder.

Jun comes carrying food that makes your mouth water. You recognize it instantly.

“Just thought you deserved a nice meal,” he replies and helps you sit down, placing a kiss on your cheek before he leaves again.

You eye him as he brings in more small dishes. Everything looks incredible, and you can’t wait to indulge in his delicious cooking.

Jun gives you a smile as he sits and nods toward the food, inviting you to go first. The first bite gives you a burst of happiness; there’s something about great food that makes you feel good. Once you get some food in your stomach, Jun begins eating as well.

It’s a nice night after a tiring day. Jun talks a little, but it’s mainly filled with comfortable silence that you welcome. It’s actions like these that make you fall for him more.

Soonyoung

When Soonyoung finds out about your social exhaustion, he fears you won’t want to be around him. Is he making you feel worse? Should he give you some space?

You’re quick to deny his worries. You love his presence, but you warn you may not be as talkative as normal. Soonyoung nods in understanding—tells you he’s perfectly fine with that. He just loves being around you. Sure, he loves your voice too, but he understands needing to recharge after back-to-back social events.

When it’s time for dinner, Soonyoung hesitates to ask if you want to help. He’s not sure if that’s asking for too much, but you smile and follow him to the kitchen.

It’s not unusual to cook dinner together but the time is typically filled with chatting and instructions given by you. This time, it’s Soonyoung leading the dinner preparation. Lately, he’s been more into cooking. Granted, not all his dishes turn out that great, but every chef has to start somewhere. It’s rather nice seeing how excited he gets when executing a dish idea.

You follow his instructions well—chopping this, stirring that. Even though you’re not alone and are on your feet, your mind feels at ease. You don’t have to think about what to say next or how to respond to someone’s actions. You just need to let Soonyoung guide you.

He does so with care. Sometimes he’ll crack a few light jokes just to see the faint smile on your face.

When dinner is done and bellies are full, Soonyoung sends you off to rest while he cleans up. You feel guilty he’s done so much work tonight, but you’re grateful he’s putting in so much effort to make you happy. Next time he’s feeling down like you, you’ll make sure you put in the same effort to see him smile.

Wonwoo

Wonwoo knows the need for alone time. While he doesn’t mind being around his friends for hours, attending social events is a different story. Even if he’s with friends, there are still numerous eyes watching him and other worries he has to consider. It’s draining to constantly uphold an image.

So, when you come home from your final event, he takes no offense when you tell him you want to be alone for a while. Although he’s not sure how long “a while” is, he supports your need to recharge. He tells you that he’s here and to not be afraid to ask for anything as he’ll be there in an instant.

After thanking him and giving him a sweet kiss, you retreat to the bedroom.

Wonwoo sits at his gaming desk in the other room. His headset is on, and his fingers tap rapidly on the keyboard. He’s been playing for a little over an hour when you shuffle inside.

He pauses his game and pushes off his headset.

You’re silent as you push his chair back a bit and settle in his lap.

Wonwoo smiles and helps you get comfortable. You lean against his chest, arms wrapped around his neck tightly with your head nestled in his shoulder.

“You can play,” you mumble.

Wonwoo doesn’t reply verbally. He simply kisses the side of your head before he slips on the headset again and rolls his chair as close as he can get without squishing you.

Your eyes are closed as you lax in his arms. The sound of his keys clacking brings an odd sense of comfort to you. Although you still feel socially drained, you want to be around Wonwoo because if anyone can make you feel better, it’s him. You don’t need his words of encouragement, though you know he’d give them. You just need to know he’s here for you.

And he is.

Always.

Jihoon

There’s something so mesmerizing about the way Jihoon works. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed, indicating how much he’s focusing.

“Whatcha’ looking at, babe?” he chuckles when he catches you staring.

You peer at his eyes and smile, shaking your head. “Nothing. I just like watching you work.”

He hums and sets down his phone that he’s writing lyrics on. He pulls you closer, squeezing you and kissing your forehead.

“You doing okay?” he asks.

It’s been a few days since you confided in him about your social exhaustion. One too many social gatherings have left you with low energy. You haven’t felt like doing much, but Jihoon doesn’t seem to mind. He’s content doing different activities while in the same room.

You shrug in response, and Jihoon gives you a sad yet encouraging smile that tells you to keep going and hang in there. He understands having to do things because you have a responsibility. It’s not always easy, but you have to persevere. And some days it’s easier to; some days it’s not. However, with Jihoon, those easier days happen a lot more often.

You rest your head on Jihoon’s chest while he picks up his phone again. It’s silent except for the sounds of him pressing the keyboard. You wonder what he’s writing about, but Jihoon has never been one to lend you a sneak peek. At least, not while he’s in the process. Maybe he’ll let you review a draft, but that’s the earliest stage you get to see. Regardless, you always end up liking his results.

You don’t realize you’ve fallen asleep until Jihoon gently shakes you. He tells you he needs to use the restroom and that he’ll be right back.

Jihoon holds you closely once he gets back. He whispers a goodnight before falling into slumber as well.

Seokmin

After attending more social gatherings than you can count on your fingers, you’ve become drained. You could go without being around a single human being for a good month.

Except for one.

He lays next to you in bed, eyes darting across your features with worry.

When you ponder what’s wrong, he asks if he’s done something to upset you. You’re confused at first, but then it hits you. You’ve always inquired about his days; however, you’ve been lacking in keeping up to date with his life. You find yourself coming home, then eating and sleeping your day away. Even when you’re up, you’ve stayed to yourself.

You finally tell Seokmin that you’re socially exhausted. Just the mere thought of opening your mouth or being engaged in a conversation has you running for the hills.

Seokmin pushes aside his silent worries and tries not to put anything you’ve said to heart. You’re not upset with him—hell, you’re probably not upset with anyone but just need some quiet time. He’s felt this way before, so he understands you.

Seokmin slides off the bed and leaves the room. You watch in confusion, but he just grins and tells you not to worry.

After fifteen minutes, he comes back and leads you to the living room where he’s set up a mini spa. There’s a bubbling foot bath, a back massage cushion, and calming music playing. You can smell lavender and something else that you’re not sure of, but it makes you feel relaxed.

Seokmin spends hours tending to your body. From foot rubs to forearm massages, he takes care of your body in a way that makes you feel worshipped and loved.

You feel guilty that he’s pampering you so much, but he reassures you multiple times that all you need to do is close your eyes and relax. He has no issue doing this if it means you feel better.

Mingyu

You didn’t mean to snap at Mingyu when he asked if you knew where his wallet was. It was a simple question that had a simple answer. Yet, you replied rudely.

Mingyu had stared at you, not overly offended by your outburst since it was out of character. Rather, he grew concerned. Over the past few days, he’s noticed a decline in your attitude. He could almost see your patience decrease with each passing day. He’s aware of the social events you’ve been going to and figures you’re exhausted from those.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—” you try to apologize a few minutes later. You’ve calmed down and have reflected on your actions.

“I’m not upset with you, but if it makes you feel better, I accept your apology,” he says and pulls you in for a hug. A hug that engulfs you with comfort from his strong and loving embrace.

You end up telling him how you’re feeling, confirming his suspicion behind your outburst.

He gives your head a gentle kiss. You know he’s not mad at you, but you’re still disappointed with yourself for how you treated him.

When it’s time for bed, Mingyu’s by your side. He offers to wash your face for you so all you have to do is relax. With a nod, he washes his hands, then begins your face routine. Although it’s a thoughtful gesture, he tries to help rinse your face as well. However, it just results in wet floors and laughter. He apologizes but you wave a hand as you smile at him. He gives you a sheepish grin as he pats your face dry.

Perhaps that didn’t go as he planned, but at least you brightened up—even if it were just a few minutes.

Minghao

Minghao sits across from you, an encouraging smile on his lips. You follow suit and copy his sitting position.

He nods once you’ve settled and takes your hands.

“Close your eyes and copy my breathing,” he instructs softly.

Your eyes flutter close, zeroing your focus on the man before you. It’s quiet at first, but then Minghao inhales loud enough for you to hear.

You breathe in.

One.

Two.

Three.

Minghao exhales slowly.

You repeat Minghao’s patterns for an unknown amount of time. You simply let him guide you through whatever meditation practices he often does, which he offered once you told him about your social fatigue.

At first, your mind is still crowded with stress and exhaustion. It’s hard to try to relax when you know you still have more events to come. Though you continue for the sake of pleasing Minghao. You appreciate his time, even if it’s not helping as much.

Minutes pass as you still follow Minghao. Gradually your mind becomes empty—only focusing on the man before you, hands still in his. You don’t even realize how light you feel until Minghao starts pulling away.

Your eyes flutter open and see his gentle smile. You don’t even need to tell him it worked since the look on your face explains it all.

Perhaps you’ll be joining in on his meditation every night from now on.

Seungkwan

Seungkwan’s normally okay with touch. He doesn’t mind the lingering hugs or handholding in public. However, you, on the other hand, have never been as open as him. It’s unusual for you to be openly affectionate. Or at least not for a long time.

Though while visiting a farmers’ market, you cling to him more the entire time. When you encounter another person and have to converse, no matter how short the interaction is, you let Seungkwan do all the talking.

Seungkwan is naturally a talker, so he doesn’t mind taking the lead; however, you don’t even make a peep. Often, you’d at least chime in your two cents, but you don’t do that. No, you stay silent by his side and simply listen.

Seungkwan pulls you aside after a while and asks if you’re okay. When you give him a sad smile and explain you’re just socially exhausted from all your events, he instantly becomes serious. He apologizes for taking you out and not catching on sooner, but you’re not offended at all. You give him a reassuring peck on the cheek and tell him you’re fine, just not up for being around crowds too long.

Seungkwan nods in understanding, then starts leading you back to the parking lot. You tell him you can stay longer, but he refuses. He wants you to be comfortable and happy. He’s seen what he wanted and is perfectly fine heading back.

Halfway home, Seungkwan glances at you in the passenger seat.

“You want some ice cream?”

He smiles knowingly. Ice cream has always been your coping food.

You grin and nod, heart warm at his sweet gesture. Ice cream may be your comfort food, but Seungkwan is your comfort person.

Vernon

Vernon loves to watch movies. So much so that he’s dedicated Friday nights to movie nights. Each night you get to experience a new film with him. Sometimes you both love it, other times you both hate it. And of course, there are times when one loves it more than the other.

After the movies, you end up dissecting it. Some people may find that boring, but you and Vernon share similar hobbies—analyzing movies being one of them.

However, with your frequent social events, you find it difficult to be excited about tonight’s movie.

The movie summary seemed interesting, but your brain feels so drained that you doubt you’ll be paying much attention. Let alone be prepared to engage in a conversation afterward.

When Vernon sits down next to you on the couch, you turn to him reluctantly.

“Do you mind if we rewatch something instead tonight?”

Vernon gives you a confused look. You normally watch new movies, not old ones. When he asks about the reason, you give a summarized answer.

Vernon’s understanding and asks what you’d like to watch. Too fatigued to even think about it, you let him decide. He ends up putting on a movie that you both really enjoyed a few weeks ago. It’s light and easy to follow, yet it had spurred you both to talk about it for hours—somehow getting into a deep conversation.

You snuggle into his side while the opening credits play. He moves one of his arms around your shoulders, rubbing it tenderly. Although it’s not a traditional movie night, you’re glad you still get to participate in it regardless.

Chan

Chan would like to seem more observant than he really is. He would like to say he knew why you were so distant or why you seemed temperamental. However, he can’t. What he does know is that you’re not as bright as you are normally. He knows everyone has their ups and downs, but your down has been occurring long enough to worry him.

He’s standing in line at the grocery store ready to check out when his phone rings. He smiles when he sees your ID; however, your response is not what he expected.

You’re crying.

You’re sniffling and hiccupping so much that it’s hard for Chan to understand what you’re saying. He coos at you, trying to calm you down so he can grasp what’s going on.

After a minute, you’re finally able to tell him you’re overwhelmed coherently. Your social battery has run out of juice and all you want to do is come home.

“I’ll be right there, baby,” he says instantly.

He leaves his cart, apologizing profusely to the worker who eyes him at the act, then beelines it to his car.

It doesn’t matter that he spent an hour picking out food. It doesn’t matter that he was waiting in line for fifteen minutes. He just needs to be there for you.

Chan stays on the line throughout the drive. He keeps you up to date on how far he is and continues to reassure you that it’ll be okay.

He meets you outside the building and engulfs you in the most secure and loving hug. He holds you against his chest, letting you wet his shirt with your tears while he rubs your back soothingly.

“How does leaving a little early sound?” he suggests.

Normally, you try to stick it out. You have a responsibility and want to fulfill your duty. However, all these non-stop events have drained you beyond recognition.

You nod and quickly text a friend at the event that you’ve started to feel sick and need to leave.

You let Chan take care of you the rest of the day. He brings you food in bed, takes care of some house chores that you planned to do, and gives you plenty of cuddles and kisses.

a/n: i feel like i've entered a whole new world by writing a reaction/imagine 🤣 (i haven't, but im just dramatic)

divider credit

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

[srjlvr]

,, is that seat (=are you) taken? ”

IN WHICH jake’s being forced by his friends to sit on a roller coaster next to a pretty girl he saw in the amusement park.

non-idol!jake X fem!reader | g fluff , crack(?) | wc 1.3k+ | w second hand embarrassment , mentions of food , clowns , scary rides. | not proofread | ✎ ᝰ (‘a note from jo’) . i thought about this while being in my favorite amusement park! the ending is so bad honestly im so sorry in advance

it was an event day at the amusement park, people such as influencers and wealthy families were invited to enjoy the scary rides and free food.

“please, i can’t go there alone!” your friend begged you for hours. “no way! you know how scared i am of rides!” you scoffed.

“i’ll be with you on every ride i promise!” at this point she was already holding your hand while kneeling. “fine”

“jake! you promised you’ll come with us!” his friend jay claimed, “promised when? i can’t remember that part” jake shrugged.

“that one bet we made and you lost then begged us to spare you” sunghoon who was busy playing on his phone suddenly spoke, “we let you off under one condition which is to come with us to an amusement park”

jake rolled his eyes, “please don’t force me to-“ “a deal is a deal” jay pat jake’s shoulder.

you stood by the gate, lots of clowns and food tracks were exactly on the entrance, “i’ll just stick here with the clowns and the food” your legs took you to that way, but your friend was quick enough to stop you.

“no way” she dragged you, “we’ll be going to the viking first!”

“i hate you for making me do that” you said as the safety bars went down, “you’ll enjoy it don’t worry”

you sat at the right end, you’re faced to those who sit in the opposite side. there were three handsome boys, each one of them is more scared than the other.

the boy on the left looked so done while the other two grabbed each other tightly while shouting.

“jake! stop grabbing onto me you have sunghoon on your other side who’s just as scared as you!” you heard one of them shout.

the boy in the middle, which you assumed was jake, kept laughing while sticking to the other boy, which you assumed was sunghoon.

the three of them looked really cute, but jake is the one that caught your eye. especially his “please stop!” shouts and the fact that right afterwards he proceeds to laugh and rest his head on his friend’s shoulders is what made you smile without even noticing.

“y/n is everything okay?” your friend asked you while the ride kept on going—you completely forgot about that part.

“yes im fine!” you shout back. you took her hand and held her tight, “don’t make me do that thing ever again!” you added while shouting nonstop.

your friend couldn’t stop laughing at your cuteness, and apparently, she wasn’t the only one.

the boy who was sitting on the opposite side glanced at you, you were so cute and adorable to look at.

while being freaked out, he took a few moments to stare at you. you were busy shouting and tightly closing your eyes while he completely forgot about the fact that’s he’s sitting in one of the rides that he hates the most.

he giggled and chuckled to himself looking at your annoyed figured while your friend was busy laughing at you.

“finally! this hell is over” you whined but your friend only smirked, “let’s go to that roller coaster!” she pointed at the scary looking ride.

you gulped heavily, getting all stressed and worked up, “no!” you shout.

your friend however, couldn’t care less.

“jake what was that on the ride?” sunghoon asked him. “what do you mean?” he tilt his head in confusion.

“you couldn’t stop staring at the girl that was sitting at the opposite direction!” jay claimed.

“she was pretty cute” he admitted and giggled. jay and sunghoon looked at each other with a wide smirk on their face.

“you got yourself an amusement park crush” jay put his hand over jake’s shoulder, “is that even a thing-“

“let’s follow them to the next ride” sunghoon dragged both of them after cutting jake.

your friend excitedly jumped up and down as you were waiting in the short line while you glared at her, fiercely shooting your imaginary laser eyes on her cheerful face.

“we’re going to have so much fun!” she clapped.

you were too busy to whine and scoff to notice someone was actually talking to your friend from behind.

“jake, this is your shot” sunghoon prepared jake and massaged his shoulders, “you can do it”

“hey! im jay, this is sunghoon and jake” jay spoke to your friend, “don’t mind these dummies” he rolled his eyes.

“our friend jake here seems to be interested in your friend!” he then whispered, “is there a chance you could help him out?”

you friend nodded and smirked, “leave it up to me”

the only one standing in the line was you and your friend, the three handsome boys you saw back then, and two more couples—which means the roller coaster was technically all for yourselves.

only eight seats were occupied as you and your friend sat down. you put your safety belts on and looked over your friend, who suddenly stood up.

“y/n! i have to go now! i totally forgot something in the viking and i have to get it before someone steals it!” she panicked, “go on the ride without me”

“wait no! i’ll go with you!” you tried to get out—but you completely forgot the safety belts were already locked, “i’ve got to run! i’ll go on the ride with you as soon as i get back i’m so sorry!” she said as she left you there, with an empty seat next to you.

“now’s the time!” jay pushed jake towards you and clapped.

you were slowly starting to panic and lose it, until you noticed a figure standing next to the empty seat.

“um…..” he scratched his nape “are you taken….?”

the figure was the cute boy from before, jake if you recall.

sunghoon, jay and your friend who were secretly watching from afar cursed him and shook their head in disappointment.

“did you really just made me skip this ride just to watch this guy awfully flirting with my friend?” your friend asked as jay and sunghoon begged for forgiveness.

“wait no!” jake awkwardly chuckled “i wanted to ask if that seat is taken”

you looked around and to your surprise, all of the other seats were empty as well.

“no, but there are plenty of empty seats…” you raised your eyebrow.

“yeah i know” he awkwardly giggled, “i—uh i like the place you’re sitting in like you know it’s not the first seats and it’s not the last seats it’s somewhere in the middle yeah”

you awkwardly nodded and signed him to sit next to you, “i’m jake” he said.

“i’m y/n” you chuckled.

you tried to let go of the nervousness, not only you’re sitting next to the cute guy you just met, you’re about to experience hell itself.

as you slowly arrived to the highlight of the ride, you held jake’s hand and he quickly shot his glance at you, “i’m sorry i’m just so scared” you said but all he did was to hold your hand tighter.

soon enough, you were already shouting your lungs out, holding tightly onto each other and closing your eyes as tight as you could.

“y/n i have a confession to make” jake suddenly shout, “what is it?” you answered back in between your shouts.

“i really meant to ask you if you’re taken” as he finished his sentence the ride stopped.

“what” you quietly said. jake’s eyes widened as he tried to find the words to explain.

“no, i’m not” you added and he breathed out.

“you actually caught my attention ever since i saw you on the viking” he smiled, “my friends planned all of this, i apologize that it happened to be on this hell of a ride”

you giggled, “it’s cute”

“are you up to spending the rest of the day together? just to get to know each other” he suggested.

“yeah, let’s do that” you interviewed your hands and got off the ride.

your friend stood there, speechless and betrayed while jay and sunghoon laughed their ass off, “i can’t believe he managed to do that” sunghoon hit jay while laughing.

“it’s all your fault” your friend rolled her eyes, “but at least she won’t whine about the fact that she’s lonely all the time”

••• copyright © srjlvr all rights are reserved.

[priniya]

📸 BETTER THAN REVENGE

synopsis. after a fight with sirius, regulus comes to his girlfriend sulking and she decides to have a little talk with his older brother.

notes. regulus black x malfoy!reader

you and regulus had many more similarities than anyone could guess just by simply looking at the two of you. the most obvious included your background — ancient, pureblood families, who were nuts about purity, both in slytherin, both richer than most of the hogwarts students together, and in everyone’s eyes you were petty, stubborn and pretentious.

you two were petty and seemed pretentious, but it wasn’t all that. the two of you both had siblings, who maybe cared about you in some way, but never showed it well enough for you to be sure they cared. you were sure sirius cared, but you weren’t sure if lucius did. your brother was far from being a family guy.

both you and regulus were also painfully ambitious, and it kind of made the two of you so close as you were paired to one group in slughorn’s classes, and to secure yourself a top spot, you had to work together. and so half a year later, you were planning a trip to france, lying next to each other on the bed in his dorm.

after that one summer everything has changed, and now you two were an official couple, though not many people knew since neither of you wanted to make a big deal out of it. the amount of classes you shared had shrunken since you took different ones, but it just made your bond stronger.

it all happened on a week before both of you were supposed to return to your respective houses (though, regulus would be staying at potter’s), you were wrapping your present for barty, when your boyfriend stormed into the room. pandora, who sat there with you, claimed she would leave you two alone and left. you could easily see that something happened from the look on his face.

“reg,” you began, eyebrows furrowed at his sudden appearance. “is everything alright, love?” a soft ask left your lips as he just laid down on your bed, face buried in a pillow.

silence filled your room right after you finished your sentence. it was time for you to just sigh quietly, putting a hand on his back and scratching it gently. “you know you can talk to me, right?” your soft tone and the sensation of your nails on his back made him grunt.

“i’m not leaving for christmas.” he stated, catching you a little off guard. you were sure it was about the upcoming christmas ball that slughorn threw and since you were invited, regulus was ought to go with you. “i… got into a fight with sirius, so either we make up or i’m gonna go to my parents.” now, he was looking at you with misery and sadness flickering in his eyes.

“he thinks james is more of a brother to him than i am.” regulus adds, his head now resting on top of your laps as you play with his hair, trying to comfort him at least a little. “and he says it’s not that big of a deal, since i consider evan and barty my brothers and i’d probably say that they’re more of brothers to me than he is, but that’s not true.”

his words made your heart ache. it was clear to everyone in your friend group (including remus, who often just tagged along) to know how much regulus needed sirius’ validation, how much he needed to be reassured that he doesn’t hate him as much as regulus thought he did.

“i know we haven’t talked until he moved out, but it still hurts.” he whispered, not even looking you in the eyes. “and he doesn’t even recognize how much he means to me. he’s the only one in our entire family that matters more than everything. i got his initials and constellations tattooed and he thinks i would choose barty and evan over him?”

“you’re brother is an idiot, and i mean it.” you murmured, showering his head with kisses. if regulus was in his usual mood, he would say he just acts like an idiot, but now? he didn’t even want to defend him. “i’ll stay with you. i’d go nuts if i had to spend a minute with lucius.” you say softly, fingers running through his hair.

it took you a few more minutes to comfort him enough to leave your dorm for his evening practice, and even though you were supposed to finish packing your presents before christmas. you had to talk to one, annoying gryffindor, who was no other than sirius black.

getting into their common room was easy, lily, friend of a friend of yours, let you in after hearing your explanation, showing you how to get into sirius’ dorm that he shared with james, remus and peter. “one of you better hold me or i might kill your friend.” you let out, looking specifically remus, who looked at you with a glint of surprise.

“what did he do again?” lupin asked, his expression scolding. “what’re you doin’ here, malfoy?” peter began, but before he could elaborate, remus put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head as you looked for the perfect words.

“how can you be such an asshole, black?” you hissed, the end of your wand pointed at his throat. “one time you’re all on being the best older brother you can, but next time all i see in yourself is my brother, and believe me, that’s the furthest from a compliment.”

“i’m not done, yet.” your teeth gritted, eyes narrowed at him. “he’d never choose anyone over you, yet you’d always choose him —” you looked at james for half a second, then turned your eyes to sirius, again. “— over your own brother, who’d jump into flames just if you asked him to? unbelievable.” you sighed, putting your wand down, sliding it into your boot. “and you know what’s the worst in all that? that i wish he’d pick anyone else over you, but he won’t, because he can’t even get mad at you for not choosing him, he’s just sad.”

the atmosphere in the room is so tense, someone could cut it with knife. “you’re an idiot for making regulus feel so little about himself, and y’all are idiots for letting him.” another sight left your lips as your eyes were locked with sirius. “maybe even regulus will let you treat him like shit, but i won’t, black. i’ll make sure to haunt your dreams and turn them into nightmares, i can promise you that.” you gave him your most ironical smile. “i’m a malfoy, don’t underestimate me, cutie pie.” you sent him a wink,

“protective girlfriend, huh?” remus chuckled as you passed him, giving you a high-five. “oh you bet, lupin.” and you left, sirius almost shamless at your sudden outburst, but… it was quite impressive — though, he’d never admit it.

you haven’t seen neither of them till the next morning at breakfast, when they walked to the great hall together, talking about something until each of them got to their respective tables. “what did you do?” regulus asked, sitting on the bench beside you.

“what?” you asked with a sweet smile, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “just had a small talk with sirius, why?”

“a small talk? with the tip of your wand pressed against his throat?” you nodded at his words, sending him a fake-puzzled look. “you know i love you?” he bit back a smile, leaning closer to whisper those words right to your ear.

“oi, malfoy.” barty started, interrupting your somehow intimate moment with regulus. “theoretically, if i paid you, could you do that to me as well? that must’ve looked bloody hot.” crouch grinned, getting a light punch on the shoulder from your boyfriend.

“i would rather not touch you, crouch. i don’t know where the hell have you been.” you laughed, your head resting on regulus’ shoulder as his arm was wrapped around your waist. “don’t worry, baby. if any of them bothers you, i can fight.” you winked at him playfully.

[barcaatthemoon]

serial heartbreaker || leila ouhabi x reader ||

leila comes back to barcelona after you figure out that she cheated on you in manchester.

it became obvious that something was up whenever your teammates started acting weird around you. alexia and mapi were the first, but ona, pina, and claudia quickly followed suit. ona began to outright avoid you, which hurt pretty badly. almost as badly as whenever you finally realized what was going on.

you sat with your suspicions for several weeks before they were officially confirmed. leila was careful, but she got sloppy. it was in the back of someone else's instagram stories. your eyes had zeroed in on your girlfriend making out with another girl in the background of a video that one of her teammates had shot.

it was hard not letting on that you knew anything, but you weren't nearly as good at it as you thought you were. alexia could see that you were hurting, as could more of your more perceptive teammates. the one who had shocked you was lucy, who had snapped at leila whenever she came back to spain for a visit, claiming to have missed you dearly.

"get the fuck out of here," lucy had practically growled at leila. the woman had planned on surprising you, and at lucy ruining that, leila got pissed. the two of them were at each other's throats, and it took mapi and alexia leading leila away for things to calm down a bit. you couldn't hear them at first, but soon the hallway was full of your two barcelona teammates yelling at leila in spanish. "are you okay?"

"yeah, i'm fine," you answered quietly. lucy kneeled down next to you and put her hand around your shoulders. "how long have you guys known?"

"ona told me about it a few months ago. i didn't want to have to be the one to tell you. i'm sorry for not mentioning it earlier," lucy said. you nodded as you pulled her into a hug.

"it's okay. i probably wouldn't have believed you for a while. i couldn't, leila promised she'd never do something like this," you said. lucy understood how you felt. ona had been livid with the other spanish player whenever she had found out, to the point where lucy was certain they hadn't spoken to each other since. "when do you think they'll be done? i do have to talk to leila at some point."

"just tell her to get the fuck out of here, please? i know that she means a lot to you, but you can't go back to her. ona said it herself, leila will do it again," lucy pleaded with you. if it had been anybody else, you probably would have ignored the warnings, but lucy didn't like to get involved with people's lives like this.

"i'll try to," you promised. lucy pressed a kiss to your head before she helped you up to your feet. the two of you walked over to where alexia and mapi were still tearing into leila, who looked both ashamed and angry. lucy pulled your teammates away to give you some privacy with leila.

"amor," leila started. she moved towards you, but you held your hand up to keep her away from you. "please, let me explain."

"there's nothing to explain, leila. you cheated on me, it is that simple. you can blame the distance, your loneliness, the fact that you're just so affectionate. you can say anything that you want, but that doesn't change the fact that you cheated on me," you told her. "so go ahead and explain yourself because i'd love to hear whatever bullshit you've been telling yourself, but once you're done, i want you to answer all my questions."

"i missed you, and i was angry because i told you not to come with me. you offered to come to manchester, but i told you to stay here instead. i was all alone, and it was my fault, so i took it upon myself to be less lonely. it was just hook ups at first, i swear, and then there was this girl on the training staff. we hit it off, things are going great, but she's not you," leila said. all her words did was fill you with rage. she had confirmed that this had been going on for a lot longer than you knew, and worse than that, she was still with one of the girls she had cheated with.

"get the fuck out of here. if i never see you again, it'll still be too fucking soon." you turned on your heels and walked right out of the room. leila tried to chase after you, but lucy was right there to stop her. you walked into the locker room and went straight to your locker, beginning to pack up your things to go home.

"(y/n), are you okay?" mapi asked as she sat down next to you. you weren't crying, it was far past that, but you were obviously pissed. you didn't mean to direct it at mapi, but the glare you gave her had the woman backing away from you instantly. unfortunately for you, alexia wasn't as easily scared by you.

"i'm sorry that we didn't do something before," alexia said as she pulled you into a hug. her embrace was tight and comforting, but you didn't let yourself relax. most of the girls looked away, but you could see ona standing across the room looking at you longingly. she had been avoiding you for months, and it killed her to not be by your side as your best friend.

"come here oni," you told her. she raced over towards you, both of you dissolving into fits of tears as soon as you were in each other's arms. her apologies were scrambled in between sobs and spanglish, but you knew that she meant it. still, a part of you couldn't forgive her for what happened. she had known since the beginning that leila had cheated on you, but she hadn't said anything to you.

"do you need a ride home?" alexia asked once you and ona had calmed down a little. you nodded as you picked up your bag. the team didn't miss the way that you ignored ona as she said goodbye to you. the anger you felt for leila was starting to spread around the team, and if it wasn't for the fact that you needed alexia for support, you'd probably shut her out too. "it's not an excuse, but none of us knew how to tell you about leila. you seemed so happy, and i knew she'd do this when she started talking about switching teams. i didn't think it'd get so out of hand."

"were you listening to us?" you asked. alexia nodded her head as she started driving. you knew that she wasn't taking you back to your apartment. "did you know it was with so many girls?"

"no, it's never been that many before," alexia muttered. you could see that she wasn't just angry. "you were supposed to be different for her. i believed in her not to do this again. i'm sorry, if there's anybody you should be mad at, it's me, not ona. i'm the one who knew about this pattern. don't ruin a friendship with someone who doesn't deserve to be caught in the crossfire."

"it's hard right now. all i can think about is that she knew," you admitted. alexia sighed as she squeezed your hand. "i could have done the same thing to leila, but i didn't. why did she have to do that to me?"

"sometimes, she's careless about things that she shouldn't be. she was careless with your trust. it's hard, but try not to think about her. don't give her a second thought, because eventually, the pain will subside along with your feelings for her," alexia said. you tilted your head to the side as you realized that she was speaking from experience. "do you want to be alone right now or can i come inside too?"

"don't you have practice?" you questioned. alexia shrugged.

"not if you need a shoulder to cry on," she told you. "let me know what you need, and i'll do my best to get it for you."

"i want you to come with me, and maybe, when practice is over, we can call ona," you told her. alexia nodded as she got out of the car. she got your bag for you, and for a moment, it reminded you of the way that leila had been with you in the beginning of your relationship. the only difference was that alexia didn't look at you like leila did, as if she knew that you were already head over heels for her.