#look what i found while looking for something else entirely!
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And I'm petrified of being alone, now |
Part Twenty-Four
Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.
What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?
Authors note: I’m here:) finally. It’s been a while, idk how long, not that long but long enough i guess, sorry for the wait! This one is wordy but also has a lot going on, so hope you enjoy!
Ngl, this can probably be read as a standalone if anyone’s seeing this and not started the series, it’s just a bit angsty and mostly smut? But unsure, I said probably! X
Warnings: Arguing, usual Matty and Mouse thinking (feels like it needs its own warning at this point, they’re saddos), smut, unprotected sex, EMOTIONS (because yeah)
> Last update: look back here if you'd like!
Masterlist
There was something raw in the bitterness that was love. Like the sour skin of an apple that was first thought to be sweet. Love was deceiving in itself really, but it was never alone. It brought life and light. It wrought anger. It stirred both jealousy and pity. It gave and gave, until all you were left with was that tart tang aftertaste.
Some people revelled in it.
Others, withered away.
Years before, perhaps maybe not even that long ago now, Matty would have belonged to the former. He had enjoyed the strings he found that could tie him to people, sex and money had given him the ability to do it, to keep them there, to pull them alongside him. And he’d indulged in it all, beyond what most would consider extortionate.
And still, even after everything, when the fun had ended and the games had been discarded, and he’d just been tossed off somewhere to the side… Alone once more. He had continued on. On and on and on, until he ultimately had lost himself completely.
The last few months had shifted something in him though.
And now here he was, still angry and bitter and resentful. But full of actual love. The raw type. The kind that left you marvelling at the most stupid things— insipid little concepts that held no actual value or any real detail worth getting all starry-eyed over.
It had wormed its way into the hollow shell that was his heart and rebuilt some part of him that he believed he had long since destroyed.
He wanted to scoff at the very thought. The very idea that an emotion could be felt so strongly that it differed the world around you; that, singularly, it could change you. The notion was far too complex, too out there to even begin to fathom, but then again, Matty supposed that emotions were exactly that. Complex.
It sent his mind reeling. Had his entire body aching with a fever to expel the feeling completely, if only so that he could think freely again, so it wouldn’t hurt to merely breathe anymore.
You should have told me.
He knew that. He had admitted as much.
And yet, he still hadn’t told her.
He’d lied.
Why didn’t you tell me?
And that was the question, wasn’t it? Why hadn’t he just told her?
Fear, he guessed.
Yet another morbid emotion in which Matty had always been so wary of. Another lost feeling he thought he’d swallowed whole and hidden somewhere deep down. Because there was no fear in a drug induced haze. When you were off partying or chasing some other euphoric high. What the fuck was there to be fearful of? When the chilling buzz which shook you to your very core blanketed over everything else.
When there was always that silence.
That numb quiet he had chased and craved and cherished.
Though, he supposed, it was nothing compared to the fear of losing this.
Of losing her.
Still, Matty could not for the life of him find it in himself to tell her exactly that. Those words lost on him, lodged in the column of his throat and etching themselves a home there.
“Where do we go from here?”
He blinked at the sound of his own voice, looking up at her shadowed expression and at how tired she then seemed. How different she now looked compared to the moment they’d first met.
She’d been something of a presence even then. Always effortlessly complex. With her soft smile and guarded eyes. Eyes he’d gone and fucking wondered about for hours on end.
Those eyes which were now caught on the far wall stood opposite, the one lined with coloured photo frames and that odd little doodle Teddy had gotten in trouble for only a couple of weeks prior.
The realisation made Matty mourn the few days they’d spent apart.
After a long moment, she finally shrugged at him and he found himself swallowing tightly at the movement. Startled by her seeming lack of care.
“I don’t want to lose you, Squeaks.”
It was honest. As honest as he could be.
She huffed an amused breath in return though, “Not like you’re short on company, Matty.”
He felt his gaze snap up to meet hers then, head shifting with it.
“What’s that even meant to mean?” He asked her, frowning now, at the way she had crossed her arms over her chest and how her shoulders had hunched on their own accord whilst she casually moved to glance out the window. Matty forced himself up onto his feet, hating the fact she had turned away from him.
“I saw everything, Matty.” Mouse replied tiredly, as though she was fed up, fed up with this, with them. “I saw the articles.”
Matty’s stomach bottomed out at her words, he stepped towards her. “Nothing happened.” He murmured, taking another step closer. “Nothing fucking happened, Squeaks. I swear it.”
She tensed but didn’t quite flinch at his sudden approach, so he kept a little distance between them, even as desperate as he was to hold her. To shake her enough so that she would see sense, that she’d realise how stupid he would have had to have been to have gone near anyone else. That girl was no one, she’d meant nothing.
“You can swear that, can you?” She mocked him, one corner of her mouth toying with a merciless smile that didn’t quite suit her. “You were gone, Matty. Fucking out of it. That much was clear to see just from the photos alone.”
Matty stared at her helplessly.
She shook her head.
“I’d had a couple drinks. That isn’t a crime!” He stressed, automatically falling onto the defensive, “Didn’t mean I was stupid enough to get with the first person I fucking saw! That girl- she was off her head too. Had mates with her even! But she was just trying to help me, Mouse. That’s all it was.”
She was shaking her head again now, tongue catching on her incisor; a dead giveaway to how stressed she was, how anxious she was getting. Matty only wished to shoulder it all, that defensiveness of his faltering slightly at the sight of her trying to hide it all. To stay strong. How fucking long had she had to do that?
“I feel like such a fool, Matty.” She finally spoke, her voice trembling with the onslaught of tears that glazed her eyes but she didn’t dare let fall. “A fucking fool. ‘Cause I’d thought that things were okay, that we were okay. That I could finally relax and let you in. But then-“ She paused, a sad huff leaving her, “Then you went and dropped this mess in my lap and somehow expected me to just deal with it. To tell you it’s all fine. That we could make it right.”
Mouse turned then, ever so slowly, looking about as defeated as Matty had ever seen her. He felt his chest burn with the last breath he hadn’t remembered taking let alone hold onto, too afraid to look away, to even move.
“But you embarrassed me. You’ve made the whole world believe I am that fool. That I was as naive as they’d first made me out to be. As my friends thought me to be.”
Her smile was shattered and broken, her voice wet and hoarse, but she continued on even as her hands fell limply to her sides and she took a single step closer.
“And to make things worse, you didn’t just hurt me, Matty. You hurt Teddy too.”
–
Hit them where it hurts.
That was the saying, wasn’t it?
But it only left me feeling all the more sour- gutless. As well as a little stupid, I supposed, wondering if Matty even cared for Teddy at all, or how he had felt the last couple days.
Though I shouldn’t have second guessed it, not when the way Matty’s face immediately paled and then fell proved me wrong.
Deep down, I knew that he cared. In his own odd way he had always cared. But to know it and to see it were two entirely different things.
And although it was true, that Matty had in fact hurt Teddy. It still felt like a shitty thing to say to him then. But he’d hurt me as well, hadn’t he. And even though I’d been hurting most of my life, Matty being the reason for all that hurt pained me in a way I couldn’t even comprehend.
“I didn’t-”
I scoffed at his attempted reply, but my heart wasn’t in it, breaking all over again. I wondered how long we could drag this out. If we even would.
“Mean to?” I finished for him, shaking my head stupidly. “I know you didn’t mean to, Matty. Doesn’t change the fact that you still did it.”
His eyes slipped closed just as his lips fell apart, and when he opened them again I was stuck staring into his devastated gaze.
“If I could take it all back, I would.” He breathed, “I promise you I would.”
I swallowed back my own tears, even as they burned and pricked at my throat and eyes. “But you can’t.”
And it was as simple as that, wasn’t it? He couldn’t ever take it back.
I don’t want to lose you.
He knew just how to get under my skin, past all that rusted armour of mine.
It was what made this all so much harder.
“Tell me what to do, Squeaks.” Matty croaked pleadingly, hand reaching out towards me before he looked down at it, blinked, and then let it fall. “I’ll do it, just– tell me.”
What was left that he could do? When it felt like things had so suddenly and so horrifically fallen out from under us.
“I don't know.” I told him honestly, in a barely there whisper, “I just don't know, Matty.”
He stepped even closer then, hand moving to capture my jaw in a determined haste, not restraining himself like he had just moments before. I tried to pull away, titling my chin and looking off to the side as I clenched my teeth, but his thumb was there, luring me back in, forcing me to meet his eye.
“I’m not just gonna give up.” His other hand jumped to cradle my face, a cushion to those heated words.
I was reluctant in my needless wanting, desperate to be held whilst simultaneously wanting to push him away. So I lifted my hands up to cover his own, unsure of the choice they’d make. To stay, or go.
“It’s not about that, Matty.” I heard myself say pathetically, voice wavering with each word, “You can’t just forget this.”
His dark eyes were trained on me, flickering over every square inch of my scarred face. I’d never felt insecure about them when I was around him, but this moment felt too heated, too high strung. And I’d been burning the candle at both ends the last few days, so with him being this close, this intense, every emotion I’d felt was brimming closer and closer to the surface.
Instead of facing him, I turned away, hiding once more as I worked my jaw and felt my hands slip down to the backs of his forearms.
A shared breath and then,
“Don’t do that.” Matty whispered in the quiet, almost begging. “Don’t hide from me.”
His thumb smoothed over the skin of my cheek and I was all but putty in hands, looking back at him just as a tear escaped me and slid to meet the pad of it.
Matty brushed the tear away without thought, before he leant in to rest his forehead against my own. The action forced me to cling tighter to his arms, eyes closing to keep from embarrassing myself any further. I wouldn’t cry.
I wouldn’t cry.
“Look at me.” He demanded, nose so close that I could practically sense its phantom touch. And foolishly, I did as he asked. “You-” His breath stuttered as his eyes pleaded with me, sounding forced as it broke free from him, his fingers making a home for themselves in my hair.
“You don’t know what you do to me. How much of a mess I’ve made of myself. How much I have missed you.” Matty confessed, his voice quiet in the small space shared between us, in a place where we were both sheltered and unseen. “And I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry. Enough that I’ll keep on repeating it until you fucking believe me. Enough that I’d do just about anything for you to see how much I want this.”
He sucked in a breath, and I blinked back at him, lips tingling with the sensation of his proximity.
“I know I messed up. I know.” He repeated, eyes flickering back and forth between my own whilst his thumbs trailed the line of my hair. “But all I’m asking for is a chance to make it right. To be better. Squeaks, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat if I could.”
His breath was tickling the skin of my cheek as well as the corner of my mouth, it almost made it difficult to think let alone remember how to breathe. I wanted–
Suddenly my eyes were looking down, focused on his parted mouth, on the stubble he’d let grow across the cut of his chin as well as his upper lip. His nose finally brushed past my own, touching ever so carefully as one or both of us pressed nearer, almost there, inching closer but not close enough.
“Tell me no.”
Instantly, I was thrown back to that first night he kissed me. I hadn’t told him no then, and for some reason I couldn’t find it in me to decline him now.
So instead I took, all but biting as my hand cradled the back of his neck and closed that short amount of distance between us. My nails dug into the exposed skin of his nape, where the collar of his shirt jumped with each move he made. My teeth nipped at his lower lip, angry in my attempt to swallow him whole, teeth clashing as we both stumbled, moving and moving until Matty’s back hit the nearest wall.
How the roles had reversed, I thought to myself as Matty’s shoulders flexed beneath his shirt and jumped under my ever roaming hands. I hated the desire that it stirred through me, knowing how easily he could take back control with his carefully contained strength. But he didn’t, instead he gave my fury something to latch onto.
My hand lifted to pin one of his wrists somewhere to the left of his head, glare not wavering even as his stubborn gaze met my own. He was as riled up as me.
“You have some nerve.” I all but spat, watching on as his chest rose and fell, questioning how quickly everything had switched.
“Yeah?” Matty bit back, those familiar brown eyes- a colour that had always brought me comfort- were blazing now as they trailed over the flush that I was sure lined my face. “Why’s that? You’re the one with me pinned, darlin’.”
His heavy gaze traced the bow of my lip, slumping ever slightly in his stance so that his head could fall closer forward. My breath hitched.
That was all he needed apparently, to earn the upper hand here. Because in a moment, the room was spinning and then I was the one being crowded against the wall, fury be damned.
Contrary to my previous endeavour, Matty’s touch was still as careful as ever, making it that much more obvious that I could slip away if I so wanted. But the question was whether or not I did.
“Matty–”
But he just carried on, as though he hadn’t even heard me speak, voice a low breathy murmur.
“I’ve been stuck in this endless loop. Driving myself mad.” He told me, his knee angled enough so that he could let his head dip towards the juncture of my neck, his mouth pausing by the shell of my ear whilst a finger gently trailed its way up over my hip. “Wonderin’ if I’d lost this for good.”
My heart pounded in my chest as the ghost of his words tickled my skin, tensing when his nose ever so slightly grazed my jaw.
That finger of his continued to move, working its way up my torso, jumping across my ribs and up to the bone of my collar. My gaze was fixed on the opposing wall, on the mirror that framed my dazed face and the back of his head. My hand worked its way into his unruly curls.
“But you’re as stubborn as me, see.” Matty added, luring me in, “And I’m not the type to give up on a sure thing.” His words held enough bite that I snapped back to meet his stare, he tilted his head at me whilst I scowled.
“Excuse me?”
Matty smiled, lids heavy as his careful hand danced its way back down my front.
“And this,” He said, almost in a whisper, ignoring my retort as he hooked my leg around his waist, “This is a sure thing.”
A soft breath escaped me even as I batted his hand away, but he simply reached up to grip at my chin, touch tender even with the way his calloused thumb dragged down my lower lip.
I was slowly beginning to imagine that this was all a dream, something my sick mind had gone and conjured up in hopes to ignore all of the hurt he had put me through. Because this couldn’t be right, things couldn’t have fallen back into place this easily.
“Matty.” I tried again, firmer this time, but was captured by the look his eyes held, probably having understood the expression that must have just crossed my face.
“What did you do, Squeaks?” He asked me almost hurriedly, shaking my chin between his forefinger and thumb, my previous anger and doubt melting slightly as I leaned further into his touch. “Did you want me to hurt, too?”
I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question, his swift change in topic. Baffled by the fact that he was now trying to pin this back on me.
Was that really what this was? I wanted to ask.
Matty didn’t give me the opportunity to say a thing though. My surprise had stalled me briefly, but it had evidently been long enough to allow him to simply carry on.
“What did you do, eh? Tell me.” He breathed before he pressed his mouth to my jaw, once and then twice, pulling away just as I tilted my head to accommodate him, “Did you go out, baby? Find somebody else? Or did you just stay here, waiting for me?”
I reeled back, anger spiking again. “Fuck you.”
Matty’s eyes flickered back and forth between mine.
“I’m trying to get you to.” He said, always so brazen and snarky, even in the moments where I hated him most. The hand I had previously slapped away went back to the leg he still had draped over his hip, snaking up over my knee and to my thigh.
My glare didn’t waiver, even as my breathing picked up at the pressure his fingertips wrought on my skin.
“Tell me no.” He finally repeated, eyes failing to meet mine. And how was I supposed to? When having him this close brought back that fire he’d put out in me, when he was kissing my neck so sweetly?
“We’ll regret it.” It was as close to a no as I could get, enough to have him pause. Matty looked to me then, his hold loosening on my body but still holding. Hoping.
“Do you care?”
I marvelled at the question, did I care?
I cared so much it pained me.
But he hadn’t meant it like that. That much I knew.
Do you care if you regret it? Because, what if you don’t?
With Matty there was always chance– he was the type to play the odds, to push his luck.
What if.
What if, what if, what if?
Shaking my head, I was forced to question if he understood me as much as I did him. If he could see each of my thoughts just as they dawned on me, flashing across my face like a story being told.
Then I wondered whether or not I even wanted him to understand. This, this thing we were doing would only further complicate things between us, but perhaps this could be a goodbye.
But, if this was a goodbye, why was he looking at me like that? Watching and waiting for me to truly answer.
Tell me no, he’d said.
Matty’s gaze swept over my face, as though trying to read me, maybe in hopes to find what it was he was really searching for.
Tell me no.
“Please.”
And my resolve broke at the word.
“Okay.” I heard myself say in reply, nodding quickly, and that was seemingly all the permission he needed before Matty was wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me towards him fully.
My hands floundered momentarily before they were back on his shoulders, his teeth nipping at my neck.
I moaned, eyes falling shut as he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses down my skin, teeth scraping before his tongue swirled to soothe their angry ambush. I could smell him everywhere now, the shampoo I was so used to stealing, as well as the only aftershave he’d ever claimed to like.
His hips rolled into mine, pressing himself right against the fabric of my trousers and the underwear which had grown damp during our heated argument.
I didn’t want to linger too long on the thought of my body’s obvious betrayal, too caught up in him to think about how wrong this should all feel.
“Shit.” Matty groaned, breath catching with it as he continued to grind against me.
I gasped back, grabbing at him harder as he bit down on the curve of my neck. I nipped at his jaw in retaliation, nails digging into the skin of his back, hoping to leave a mark.
“I knew you’d miss me.” He grunted into the base of my throat, the hands which held my waist dipping beneath the hem of my shirt to explore further. “Even when you’re angry you’ll wait. ‘Cause no one else can touch like me.”
A whine bypassed my lips almost involuntarily as he continued to rut against me, I wanted to be angry- no, in fact, I was angry. But all emotion other than want was blurring at the edges of my mind now, being pushed further and further back by each eager kiss he peppered along my jaw.
“You really–” I jerked in surprise, cutting myself off with a short gasp when his hand slipped past the hem of my trousers, fingers pressing against the damp fabric he found there.
“What was that?” He provoked, and I could hear the smirk in his voice as he trailed over my covered clit, causing me to whimper before I was biting down on my lower lip. Matty didn’t like that much. “Come on, I wanna hear you.” He muttered, pressing a little harder, wanting a reaction. “Tell me.”
“You’re such a bastard.” I panted, head falling against his shoulder as my hips pushed further into his touch, seeking more.
Matty laughed, all breathy and lovely, mouth catching on the lobe of my ear before he hissed, “Yeah, but you like that about me.”
His hand was gone with that and I was almost tempted to ask, to even plead with him for its return, aching all the more now, enough that all I could think about was riding his fingers until I couldn’t think at all.
But then Matty was grabbing my waist again, his grip hard, firm, and I swallowed when he whispered into my ear once more.
“Jump.”
Without thinking, I jumped.
We collided, his mouth on mine and the two of us moving as though it was second nature. And in a way, it was. But it shouldn’t have been. I knew that. I tried to remind myself of it.
He shouldn’t be here.
But he was. Walking his way through my flat with ease, effortlessly missing each sharp corner and the miniscule step which led back into the hallway. He was blind, my hands in his hair as he manoeuvred us into my bedroom, throwing me down onto sheets that he’d never seen, let alone slept in.
I tugged him down with me, his hands moving to unbutton those fucking jeans he always wore as he worked his way back into my mouth.
He hovered over me after kicking them off, my head pressed to the pillows as his eyes roamed every inch of my face. “Beautiful.” He whispered, as though he hadn’t really meant to say the word aloud.
My breath hitched anyway but Matty paid it no mind, leaning in closer to kiss me again, slower this time around, though his hands were still quick, tugging at the hem of my top enough so that I got the hint. I lifted myself up, breaking away to take it off and toss it to the side.
Matty kissed his way down my neck again, following the trail of scars down my torso until his fingers paused to hook around the top of my trousers. I nodded at his silent ask, planting my feet a little firmer on the mattress so that they could follow my tee.
Matty stopped then, kneeling between my parted thighs, eyes caught on the panties I was wearing, and I could swear something in his gaze shifted as he stared down at me.
“Lace?” He murmured, fingers curling around my thighs tight enough to bruise as he pushed forward, closer to my face. “Really?”
It was a loaded question. Almost felt like an accusation.
I shrugged– I hadn’t meant to end up here, but it hadn’t been subconscious when I’d picked them out of the pile this morning. He liked the way they looked, had told me so one night spent at his when he’d talked me into smoking a couple joints with him sprawled out on his living room floor.
I opened my mouth to reply but Matty didn’t quite catch the motion, already busying himself with the task of pulling the lace down my thighs. His fingers, calloused from years of playing guitar, dragged alongside the black material rolling down my legs. I tensed at the feeling, zeroing in on the slow motion, then listened to him groan at the sight before they were gone completely.
I watched him pull away, balling the damp fabric up in a fist before leaning over the side of the bed to drop them on top of his jeans.
“A souvenir?” I couldn’t help but question, mostly out of mirth, but humour helped deflect from the weight I felt at having him here.
Matty hummed, fingers already back on me, trailing the length of my right leg before he was stretching his way back up again, head stopping between my parted thighs and nosing at a crease sat at the very top. He didn’t answer me though, instead choosing to shut me up with another gasp by dragging his thumb across my folds.
“Matty.”
“Hm?” He hummed again, having sat back on his heels to watch me squirm as he continued on. I shot him a rather annoyed glare.
“Take off your shirt and fuck me.”
His brows rose languidly when he flicked his eyes back up to meet mine, then tilted his head. “But I’m having so much fun.”
With a swift kick to his side, Matty’s hand fell away and he shook his head around the beginnings of a smile. “Always so demanding.” He tutted and before I could spit something back– probably about him being the biggest hypocrite I knew– he was placing his hands either side of my head and leaning forward so that his lips were right beside my ear, his breath fanning the shell of it. “You gonna beg for it?”
My breathing grew heavy as I watched him pull away, dragging a finger up the inside of my thigh before stilling ever so briefly and venturing on, up over my hip and then my ribs. He pressed a slow kiss to my chest, eyes flicking up to find mine as his tongue swirled over the skin, there and then gone.
“Come on–”
He huffed a quiet laugh, the force of it lighting goosebumps over my exposed flesh. “Come on, baby. Beg.”
I rolled my eyes, reaching up to grab at his neck but he was already dancing out of my reach. He jutted his chin.
“Matty.” I huffed.
“Yeah?”
I really wanted to throttle him, “Fuck me. I’m not asking.”
The corner of his mouth tugged itself up into a small smirk, “Good enough.”
A disbelieving chuckle escaped me, one which was quickly cut short by his wandering hands finding purchase on my hips once more, before he dragged me down the length of the bed, his mouth finding purchase on the swell of my breast.
He pressed fast kisses along the curve of it until his tongue flicked out over the nipple, causing me to gasp. My hands flew out to tangle themselves in his hair when he lapped it into his mouth to suck and I groaned at the weight of his hands cradling the curve of my back.
“Matty.”
He hummed and the sound sent vibrations rippling out across my skin, I fisted my hands into his curls harder.
Shifting until my hips found his whilst he lavished at my chest, I pressed up into him, both annoyed by the fact he was still clad in his boxers and pleased by the very visible wet patch I could see. I ground against him and the sensation elicited moans from the pair of us, his hands flying down to hold my hips steady.
“Patience.” He murmured, but I was having none of it, lifting a leg against his arse to spur him closer. Matty’s head jerked up at the surprise before he looked down at me and stared. “You’ll be the death of me.”
“You better hope not.” I replied, hands finding the hem of his shirt and dragging it off before he could fight me on it. “I’ll make it painful.”
“Counting on it.” Matty murmured back, hair now a mess, either from the clutch I’d had on it moments before or from the way I’d all but yanked his top over his head. “On all fours,” He said roughly, tapping my outer thigh twice. My already flushed skin heated further at the understanding of how he wanted to take me but– contrary to popular belief– I didn’t argue and rolled onto my stomach.
Palms to the sheets, I pushed myself up onto my hands and knees, eyes trained on the headboard. I grinned to myself when I heard Matty groan at the sight, looking back over my shoulder only briefly to see him palming himself through his boxers.
“Don’t have all day, Healy.” I prompted after a moment passed, just before the mattress shifted beneath his weight. I heard something drop to the floor a second later before he was right up behind me.
I jolted a tad at his sudden touch, then was forced to focus on the way his hands slid over my hips with that same familiarity they’d always done, moving up to the swell of my arse to squeeze it before dropping back down to spread my legs further apart.
A moment passed and I was forced to wait in the silence he then gifted me, waiting and waiting until I finally went to say something. It was then that I felt a finger glide down my spine, dragging ever so slowly over my jumping muscles.
“Hands,” Matty then reminded and I was forced to blink away the haze I had drifted into, reaching up to grab onto the headboard just as I felt him swipe his dick between my thighs, guiding himself up over my folds, pushing past them so he rested at my entrance.
I let go of a rush of air, splaying my hands further against the headboard before he slammed into me without any warning at all, all the way up to the hilt whilst I cried out at the sudden fullness. “Fuck.” I hissed, head falling between my shoulders as I winced.
I breathed through the bit of pain that came with the thrust, acknowledging that Matty didn’t move an inch and instead keeping still, hands holding my hips even as he leaned over to whisper, “You good?”
His voice was surprisingly soft in the quietness that encased the flat, reminding me of other times we’d spent here, both like this and in other odd moments. It made my chest ache.
I took another moment to adjust to him before I nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”
He hummed in turn but didn’t question it, just waited, thumbs circling the skin on my hips for a moment in a manner so gentle and yet so very Matty, before finally, he moved.
His thrusts were shallow and slow at first, his thumbs keeping the same steady tempo as they continued to soothe the tops of my hips. I moaned at the feel of him, before I managed to roll my hips back to meet his own, enjoying the sound that escaped him.
“So good.” He said, hand sliding further up my side and towards my ribs before I was titling my head back and Matty was holding a fistful of my hair. He just held it for a bit, forearm pressed against the skin of my back before his thrusts began to grow harder, tugging more and more.
The room was quickly filled with the sounds of our groans along with the bedframe rocking against the wall and I praised all the Gods above for the fact that there were currently no neighbours residing in the flat beyond it, before I was quickly swept up once more in the thick scent of sweat and sex. Matty fucking into me with a desperation I’d never quite experienced from him before.
I panted beneath him, nails digging into the wood of my headboard whilst he picked up the pace.
I couldn’t quite focus on anything but him. His breathy whispers, his fingertips which dotted my skin, the feel of him rocking in and out of me. It was almost as though nothing else existed but this moment, even if I knew it would soon end. His thrusts getting sloppier, his grip tightening, his murmured praises increasing by a tenfold.
“Come on, baby.”
I liked when he called me that.
Made me feel special.
But that thought soon soured. Because, was I really?
How could I be anything special when my whole life I’d been nothing but a doormat for people to walk all over? I couldn’t help but think that Matty would be the same, like he’d gotten too close and finally seen what everybody else already had.
“Squeaks, baby. What do you need?”
I whimpered at his ask, tears collecting in the corners of my eyes. “I–”
What the fuck did I need? It wasn’t meant to feel so loaded, that question. But it felt as though the walls were now closing in. Because was this it? Was this the end?
“I–” I tried, feeling Matty’s fingers slip from the ends of my hair before a gentle palm laid itself flat on the small of my back.
“So good for me.” I heard him say and I moaned at the slight praise, breathing harder as he continued to mumble mostly to himself, “So pretty. So good.”
I was almost there, back arching under his palm as the other moved away from the right grasp it held on my hip, fingers finally finding my clit, knowing exactly what I needed.
“Yes.” I panted as the combination of his hard thrusts and steady hand sent my head into a dizzying pool of water, “God, yes. I–”
I think I screamed as I came, his fingers working deftly whilst mine clung to the headboard, body trembling as I fought to keep myself up. But Matty was there, holding me long enough so that he could reach his high and pull out with a loud grunt, coating my inner thighs.
We stayed there for, I don’t know how long, until he finally released me, falling away whilst I slumped forward onto the pillows before us. He followed a second later, still catching his breath as he stared up at the ceiling. I watched him, eyes hidden behind my forearm and a sprawl of hair that had fallen over my face, content to soak in what I could of him. What I had left.
Then Matty shifted beside me, I half expected him to get up and leave with some half-arsed excuse on the tip of his tongue, but he paused when he caught my heavy gaze. I let my eyes trail over the side of face, on the tired circles settled beneath his lash line and the slope of his nose.
He looked back towards the ceiling.
“You got your souvenir, remember?” I found myself saying, stupidly, voice just above a croaked murmur, “Don’t let me keep you.”
Quiet. And then, “Do you want me to?”
I knew what he meant, but still I asked, “Want what?”
Matty’s head slowly turned towards me, eyes guarded and peering over at my devastated form. I wondered what he made of me right then, if he thought anything at all.
When he offered me no words, I refused to add anything either and felt what was left of my heart crumple up into a pitiful bundle when he pushed himself to the edge of a bed with a barely there sigh.
The air in my lungs caught as I watched and waited, eyes trailing after him as he rounded the bed frame to pick up his discarded boxers. I let them slip closed again, not wanting to watch him leave.
I listened to his feet pad across the hardwood floors and out of the room. My chest ached with every step but I didn’t dare stop him, burying my face further into my pillow.
I laid in wait for the front door to open, for there to be a clue to his evident departure, but then the footsteps returned. I didn’t dare give myself false hope, knowing he must have forgotten something to have come back. But the padding continued, closer and closer until they were back by the bed and I held my breath as it creaked, my eyes stinging just as I felt a warm damp cloth press against my inner thighs, wiping me clean.
I choked on the sob that wanted to escape me and the cloth paused for a split second before venturing on. I waited, wondering why he was doing this, why he was dragging it out.
Just leave already.
But then the cloth was pulling away again, and the bed was creaking again, and the tears, they wouldn’t stop.
Stay.
Please just stay.
I gasped into the pillowcase, stomach tensing with the strength to keep quiet. To let him leave quietly.
I wouldn’t cry.
And then there was quiet, at least for a moment or two, before the bed dipped once more and there was a hand in my hair, combing the strands from out of my face and tucking them behind my ear.
When I opened my eyes, he was still there. Dressed and ready to go, but still sitting there beside me. Whilst I laid bare, curled up into a ball to better protect myself from his knowing gaze.
Suddenly everything hurt. Suddenly I felt exhausted and was falling apart at the seams.
Matty moved carefully, stretching toward the foot of the bed before returning with the sheet to cover me up, laying it gently over my trembling shoulders. He leaned in to press a slow kiss to my forehead and then went to move away again.
My hand caught his wrist.
And then I was flat out sobbing. Hysterical even. Crying into the pillow almost soundlessly as I gasped to try and catch my breath. Because I wanted him to stay. I needed him to stay.
Not just for me. But for Teddy. And for the life he brought into my dreary flat. To the kindness he never failed to gift me.
I needed him to stay.
I needed him.
I opened my mouth to ask, to let him know. But I could hardly even bear to look at him, blurred as he was through my onslaught of tears, Matty still held the key to all but destroying what little I had left.
His hand returned to my hair, fingers tangling themselves in it, a sudden contrast to the rough grip they’d held there earlier. And then he settled further onto the bed, back pressed against the headboard whilst he continued to run his fingers through my hair.
The tears still flowed but the sobs came less and less, until I was blinking at his shadowed figure in the dark, holding out hope that somehow he’d just know and he’d stay.
#the 1975#fic#matty healy#angst#radio host#reader#x reader#x you#george daniel#ross macdonald#the 1975 band#adam hann#fluff#humour#smut#matty healy fic#matty 1975#matty healy x reader#matty x reader#matty healy x you#ao3#fame#strangers to lovers#mum reader#kid fic#getting together#SLOWBURN#mutual pining#Warnings#aipoban
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—“like earth orbiting the sun”
farleigh start x fem!reader
summary: farleigh start! who makes his girlfriend his entire personality.
content warning: sfw, sweet fluff all the wayyy, farleigh being down bad for reader. farleigh being sweet (rare), suggestive themes at the end but just a little bit
a/n: giggling, kicking my feet, rolling on the bed while writing this. farleigh just one chance pls
farleigh had always told himself and people around him that love’s a scam. he was taught that family are supposed to love each other. but after learning about what happened between his family and his mom, why should he believe in such thing ? after they hurt his mom in the name of love ? he refused to believe in such thing. until he felt it himself.
-ever since he’s fallen for you he’s willing to use all of the love he has on you. ever since you show up into his life its like his earth stopped orbiting the sun and started orbiting you instead. you’re his new-found love. but farleigh’s still the same old farleigh who’s too proud to say it. so he shows it instead. you understood long ago that his love language is act of service that he only does for you. anyone else that wants him to do something out of his will can fuck off. so he said.
“you’re going out again ?” you swiftly turn to face your roommate sitting on her bed, folding her clothes rather messily. she couldnt care less if theyre not stacked symmetrically, just wanted to have the mountain of unfolded clothes out of her chair. “of course, its friday night! aren’t you ?” you cheerfully say as your hands busy putting on the earrings you’d picked out earlier. “is that new ?” she asks, eyes squinting in an attempt to have a closer look before getting up to actually take a look. “-and no, i’d rather stay in. wow these are pretty- if they ever go missing best bet that’s me”. you hold still as she examines the newly bought earrings before chuckling at her joke. “yeah, farleigh saw them when he was walking around town” you hear her groan before plopping herself down onto her bed. you giggle at her response. “im sorry! i promise to not mention his name anymore” you raise both your hands to surrender before letting out a laugh.
you couldn’t blame her, you’d be annoyed too. its always farleigh this, farleigh that. farleigh bought me this, farleigh bought me that- and you love him for that. always letting you in on stuff. he tells you everything too. thanks to him, you can atleast watch out for those people he’d gossip about, so you dont get into their mess. if it wasn’t for him you wouldn’t know anything. you’re not the type to hop around searching for gossips but you love hearing about them, then fueling his gossips with your insults. in that sense you’re fit for each other, and you’re happy to have your own personal source of campus gossip. “do i look okay ?” you take one last look at your reflection in the bodysized mirror hung on the wall, smoothing out your casual dress. nothing too sexy or uncomfortable, you just wanted to chill and have some drink. “you look absolutely gorgeous like always m’darling” your roommate teases you before giggles erupt between the two of you. “where are you going anyways? need your location” she asks, not bothered to look as she’s more focused on folding a tshirt.
“the pub- like always. farle-“ his name almost slip your tongue as you receive a warning look from your roommate. you widen your eyes as you mouth an ‘okay’ before saying, “well he, who shall not be named- invited me. wants me there, he said” she rolls her eyes. “he always wants you EVERYWHERE” “bet you’re there when he goes shopping for new underwear”. she jokes. you look at her with your head cocked to the side, confused. her jaw drops as she points at you “oh my gosh, you’ve totally done that !” she gives you the most dramatic mind blown look ever “is that not normal ?” “fucks sake its not !” you shrug at her, not caring for her going ballistic. it’s not like you’re always there with him anywhere. shit, are you ?. you cant help but give it a quick thought. well you sometimes have classes buildings away from each other, so no, you think. a normal response for someone in denial. making sure you’ve put everything you need in your purse, you blow your roommate a kiss before waving her bye bye to which she jokingly shoos you away
the pub’s busier than other nights with it being the weekend and all but mostly because you and farleigh’s friendgroup members are all bunched up together tonight. courtesy of felix offering to cover every round of drinks. who would pass up on an offer like that ? you’re approaching the bar, lips letting out singsongs as your fingers play with the new earring on your right earlobe. farleigh had offered to walk you from your dorm but you declined, telling him to save you a seat instead. so he did just that. also because its just a 5-minute walk or so. the atmosphere in the pub getting thick as he’s getting antsy waiting, almost barking at his friends who tried to sit in the seat designated for you by him. “that’s for my girlfriend you dumb” he told them. as felix walks towards the table at which they’re all circled around, farleigh’s head cocks seeing the pub’s door being pushed from outside. he almost jumped out his seat seeing that it’s you. “there she is !” he exclaims, he’s quick to get you at the door. everyone else cheers seeing you walk with your hand in farleigh’s, fingers intertwined.
as soon as you’re both seated he has his hand around your waist, resting at your thigh. “how was the walk ?” he asks, his nose almost nudging yours. you lean in to give him a quick kiss before nodding, “it was nice, a little breezy” you told him without giving it a second thought. he quickly took off his knitted cardigan-like sweater to drape it over your shoulders. you giggle at his reaction, you didn’t think he’d react that way as you weren’t trying to imply that you were cold. as he is admiring your pretty face, he notices the shiny thing on your earlobe. “is that—“ his hand reach up to touch the earrings, a huge smile appears on your face before nodding. “wanted to show you. you pick the prettiest things for me. maybe i should bring you when i shop for jewelries” its been long since you last went jewelry shopping. probably since you started dating him cuz he always buy you shiny things that he’d stumble upon. he spends a lot of time looking to pick the prettiest among them. he would buy them all but he thinks that it would only show that he’s lazy. he wants you to know how much he loves you and the time he spends picking them out shows it.
farleigh would go absolutely feral whenever there’s like a bazaar on campus where students set up their businesses’ booths cuz that means there will be girls selling their handmade jewelries. he thinks they’re so pretty that it would be a waste if they’re not being worn by you. bazaars happen maybe a couple times a year and the girls already know him cuz he spends the longest time looking at their rings, necklaces and earrings trying to pick out something for you. the first time he came by the booth they thought he was gonna insult them, maybe say things like ‘aren’t you too old to be making bracelets?’ or call their handmade pieces ugly. they tried to avoid him until he picks one of them up without saying anything, taking a closer look before handing them one that caught his eyes the most. one of the girls gathered all her courage to ask him who was he thinking of buying the stuff for and he proudly said “its for my girlfriend, she loves handmade jewelries” as they nod at his answer he started going on and on talking about you, stuffs you’re interested in so they can help pick out what would suit you best. “—yeah she’s in class right now, wouldn’t want her to know im here. want to suprise her with these. she’ll go wild” a grin plastered across his face imagining your reaction. sometimes its tmi for the girls but they dont care, they think its the sweetest.
farleigh doesn’t necessarily think buying you the most expensive things is the best way to show his love, its just as long as he’s poured much thought into his gifts. he fixates on thinking whether or not you’ll love the gifts he thinks of buying you and if you probably won’t, he’ll find something else.
“they’re only pretty when you wear them. you make them look pretty” he whispers into your ear before taking your hand into his. he lean in to kiss you before pulling away just to kiss you again. and again. he rubs circles on the back of your hand with his thumb before looking back up at you. you’re getting all giddy from the attention he’s giving, your cheeks heating up. “yo guys— if you want to do romance maybe get a room” you hear one of his friends yell from across the pub. he flips him off before saying, “why were you looking at us anyways, loser ?” farleigh’s quick to rebut as the others’ reactions fill the room. he gives the guy a disgusted look before looking back at you, who is smiling. “sorry baby, would you like your usual ?” you nod before he gets up to go get your signature drink that you always have everytime you’re here. you’re not really into the heavy stuffs so he doesn’t force you to do them. he only does that to oliver.
apart from saving your seat, picking out jewelries for you and always getting you your drink to make sure it’s safe in his hands, he always want you with him everywhere he goes. just like your roommate had told you. he doesn’t care if he has to walk all the way across a field or a hallway to get to your classes, he’ll make sure he’s waiting outside for you by the time you’re finished so he could have you beside him everywhere he goes. and you dont care following him around. sometimes its just meaningless walks around campus but you’re happy as long as he’s with you. you’re his bestest friend. his home. he’d be telling you jokes as he walks, getting in front of you to make big movements to accompany his storytelling like he’d never run out of energy. like you’re his source of energy. you would give him the best reactions to his stories and gossips and he‘d fall even more in love with you if that’s even possible
he was already quite famous on campus before dating you, but now almost literally everyone knows the both of you as THE couple. he would casually mention you everywhere he goes when you’re not with him, which is probably only the times when you have different classes. and you’re always with him too. the cafeteria, the pub, the field (he loves picnics with you), his homeroom, your homeroom, the random benches along the building, the hallways. its always the two of you. somehow you never got sick of each other probably cuz he’s nice to you. sure, there are times he’d accidentally lash out on you about something that got to him but he’s quick to make it up to you. he couldn’t imagine not having you everywhere with him. his buddies have all grown accustomed to you now, unlike the first few weeks when he started dating you. they got soo annoyed everytime farleigh brought you to hang out with them. he’s always out and about telling them like, “my girlfriends coming later” or “gotta wait for my girlfriend first” before actually hanging out with them. they were irritated cuz you weren’t as fun before, back when you were just being introduced to them. bros before hoes they’d told him. farleigh made sure to let them know you’re not just some ‘hoe’ and after that they’re basically pretty chill with you as soon as they realised you’re just like farleigh, but in female form. you get along with them and their convos just as well as farleigh. so they dont mind you tagging along anymore
its becoming his whole personality, dating you. its always you before all else. sentences like, ‘cant, gotta go get my girlfriend’ or ‘my girlfriend would love this’ or ‘the other day my girlfriend-‘ and ‘did you know ? my girlfriend-‘ are converging into his daily dictionary. you, are just the same. always mentioning him in everything because you do everything with him. like it or not the story’s gonna involve him cuz he was there. or it happened to him. or he was the one who told you. the two of you set the dating standards so high that the girls only want what the both of you have when it comes to relationships. cuz the both of you made it possible, you’d become the couple everyone put their trust in love in.
you let out a laugh joining the others at something farleigh had said before taking a sip of the drink he brought you earlier. he has his one hand around your waist, grabbing your hand and the other on the table, near your drink, holding a lit ciggie in between his index and middle finger. he offers you a smoke to which you lean in. he holds the cig for you, watching you pull a puff before taking a puff himself. he closes the distance between you, leaning in to blow the smoke into your mouth, shotgunning.
the swirls of smoke mixing yours before he kisses you, deep. one of his favourite things to do with you. his hand that was holding your hand reaches into the hem of your dress, teasingly playing with it. he grins as his eyes bore into yours, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. you giggle at his fingers dragging along your thigh, tickling you. he nudges his nose against yours before getting up, gently pulling at your hand. you follow him as you giggle, already knowing where this is going. he pulls your hand, walking towards the door before saying, “ciao everyone, and you-“ he’s pointing at the dude yelling at you guys earlier,
“-thank you for your suggestion” he chuckles as the whole room roar in mixed reactions. safe to say your poor roommate slept alone that night.
taglist: @june-ebgert @radioloom @themoonchildwhofell @love-me-pls @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @fuckshitslover @szapizzapanda @khxna
#farleigh start fanfic#farleigh start headcannon#farleigh start x reader#farleigh start fic#farleigh start smut#farleigh imagine#farleigh smut#farleigh x reader#farleigh saltburn#farleigh start#farleigh x you#farleigh fanfiction#farleigh start angst#farleigh start saltburn#farleigh start one shot#farleigh start x you#farleigh start imagine#farleigh start fluff#farleigh fluff#farleigh start sweet#farleigh start girlfriend#soft farleigh start#farleigh start x fem!reader#archie madekwe x fem!reader#archie madekwe fluff#archie madekwe fanfic#archie madekwe#archie madekwe x reader#archie madekwe pic#archie madekwe fic
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Sparks in the air
This fanfic is dedicaded to @shygirl4991 and @alianarepasa for Mothers Day! Thank you for being our found family!
Summary- Smg4 receives an official invite from a group of famous content creators such as himself to work with them.
It's always been a dream for him yet he has to leave his home and friends forever. After careful consideration, he decided to pursue his dream and packed up his things.
His friends threw him a going away party, and he was sad to leave but what bothered him the most was that he hasn’t seen too much of his meme guardian partner lately since he announced he was leaving...
INSPIRED BY - The show “Friends”
References:
Notebook (from Spiderverse Part 1) -Liz
Holding hands episode -Aj
Written by @itsajanea and @lizaluvsthis
Illustrations by @lizaluvsthis
Gmods by @itsajanea
COMBINED IDEAS BY THE EGG N’ BEEG DUO
[AJ]
3rd Pov
“GUYS, GUYS LOOK WHAT I HAVE!” Smg4 yelled excitedly, running into the room, and waving what seemed to be a half-open letter. The crew looked at him with confusion but expected it was good based on his reaction.
“ I got an official invite to work with the best content creators!!” The blue meme guardian starts jumping up and down, waving the letter in the air.
The others were happy for him and celebrated with him.
Something slipped from the inside of the envelope and fell onto the floor, Meggy picked it up and stared at it before turning back to look at the happy Smg4.
“Ummmm Smg4, did you read the ENTIRE letter?” Meggy calls out to him, catching everyone else's attention as she waves a small plane ticket.
Smg4 looked back at the invitation in his hand and took out the letter from the envelope only to realize it was also talking about him moving away from his current residence
“Oh, it says that I will be going away for a long time…” What once was happy cheers turned into a sad moment of silence, until Mario shuffled up to him and gave him a big ol hug.
“Mario understands how much this means to you, and Mario is very happy.” He softly said, hugging the other tighter while he held back some tears. Smg4 hugged the red plumber back and soon everyone joined in the group hug, it was nice and comforting for the man.
All except for one, Smg3. He looked back at the group making sure no one noticed him hiding his tears before running off.
Smg4 Pov
It's been a couple of days since I got that invite… I should be finished packing by now, yet I don't want to move.
I’ve been lying here, staring at the ceiling for quite a while and I hear some noise outside.
They told me earlier that I should stay in here for a while so they’re probably throwing a party for me which is nice but… something feels wrong.
I sat up and looked at the boxes surrounding the room, I finally got up and walked around the place, reminiscing about the time I spent here.
I spotted a glimpse of a certain picture inside the box and I took it out. I smiled seeing the picture of me and the gang, we all looked so happy, I pulled out another picture from the box and it was of the two of us.
“Three…” I frown just thinking of him, I haven’t seen him in a while since I said to everyone that I accepted the offer.
And even when I DID see him, he’d just avoid me.
I bet he’s just mad that I got a good deal instead of him. I rolled my eyes and shoved the picture back into the box, walked away, and found myself looking back at the box.
Even though I'm a little mad at him… I’ll still miss him, like everyone else but I think I’ll miss him the most. But we know that I have to leave soon, so I better finish packing.
I grabbed an empty box and started packing some stuff in it, later on, I finished packing all my stuff so I took off my hat, lay on my bed and I stared at the wall to my right.
I waited for a while for the others to finish outside but I can’t help thinking about him. I turned to the left, looking at that space beside me and for some reason, I felt something was missing in that very spot.
I closed my eyes and drifted off into a deep slumber.
…
Suddenly I felt a gentle breeze, I opened my eyes and found myself sitting on the grassy plains, staring at a purple sky, It was a sight to see and reminded me of someone-
I looked around the beautiful plains and saw 3 in the distance, I got up and rushed over to him yet I had a weird feeling.
When I called out his name, he looked at me with an enraged look, clenching his fists and what shocked me more was when he spoke in a sarcastic tone.
“Congratulations Smg4, you got what you wanted, now you can go off with your new friends.”
He then started walking away, I tried catching up, pleading with him to understand what he meant. I thought he would understand.
I tried reaching my hand out to him
and then the next thing I knew… I woke up, realizing I was reaching for something that wasn’t there
I tried relaxing my mind because it didn’t matter, for now, maybe I’d see him later and we could talk if he would be here.
“Oh ES-EM-GEE-FOUR!” I hear Mario’s call, which means I can finally come out now. I fixed my hair, put on my hat, and was ready to get out.
When I stepped out, I noticed all the decorations and everyone I knew. They all yelled out in excitement and came rushing towards me. I was overjoyed, even though it may be the last, I'm glad to see everyone again.
While chatting with one of my old friends, I see Smg3 just standing there.
I excused myself and walked up to him til Mario just popped out of nowhere. I was stuck talking to him for a while and saw 3 leaving the party too soon. He looked at me with a cold stare before disappearing from my gaze.
What did I do wrong?
3rd Pov
It was after the party that Smg4 couldn’t sleep, that look 3 gave him shook him to his core. It made him angry for some reason. Why couldn’t he be happy for him just once, just because he was the one who got an amazing offer?
4 could’ve tried sleeping, his flight is in the morning but it bothered him too much to the point where he decided to go march over to 3’s place and give him a piece of his mind.
He took his hat and entered the shop, while riding down the elevator he thought of what to say and then
Ding
He got off the elevator and yelled out
“THREE! WHY THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN AVOIDING ME THIS PAST-”
Smg3 sat on his bed, hugging himself while he cried in anguish. Surrounded by a mess and Eggdog, who was trying his best to comfort his beloved father he still weeps.
4 felt devastated, he felt sick to his stomach seeing the other in this state. He had never seen 3 in such a terrible state like this before.
“Three…” He softly says, slowly approaching the other before 3 stared at the man intensely, his eyes were red and puffy, and he kept gasping for air and felt his body tremble.
“Get out.” 3 quietly answered, pausing to wipe his face on his shirt. “Now…”
“But I-”
“I SAID GET OUT, GET OUT NOW” he raised his voice and threw the nearest object he could find at 4.
4 was able to dodge it but he still had goosebumps. Before he could speak, 3 threw another object at him and kept throwing more and more objects while yelling at him
“GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT!!!”
[Liz]
A moment without thinking, he threw the only thing that felt important to him…
His secret diary… his notebook… the one that he hides most often when he’s around with four or any other of the crew members.
“Three! Please stop- we can talk about this-” Four trying his best to cover his face with his arm on defense.
He was brought by surprise just the second he saw a notebook coming closer that was about to his face.
It was too late for him to dodge it, right after the split second he noticed that it was SMG3’s diary. The sharp corner hit his forehead and fell to the floor.
“OW!” SMG4 knocked himself back to the ground, with his eyes closed. His hat fell off to the floor, and the amount of pictures and notes flew out of the pages from three’s notebook.
Like how it exploded in the air.
The notes and pictures that scattered across the room, gave Three a quick moment of realization then his face turned pale. Feeling shocked after realizing what he had just done.
Seeing Four has a tiny scratch from the impact and the purple notebook he owns. Just right in front of him…
Three starts to panic after he gave himself a second to think, he f-cked up pretty badly…
“SHIT- SHIT- SHIT!” he hurriedly grabs the photos and the other notes lying on the ground, and Four rubs his forehead then finally opens his eyes to see papers falling.
As one of them falls and lands in Four’s hand, he slowly picks up the note to try and read what the handwriting says.
Three’s handwriting is oddly new to him since he’d never seen much of his writing before, looking a bit closer now. He reads a simple note of-
“Today, Four made me laugh. I honestly hated how soft I am to this baka but the joke was funny tho.”
Then to the bottom after the text, it shows a doodle of him and Three laughing together, just the two of them sitting on the bench.
“What…” he saw two marked pink colored hearts, one beside four and one beside three.
Three’s heart started pounding, this can’t be happening to him right now. But then again it was too late to stop him.
As Four carefully placed the note down with now seemingly widened eyes, his other hand moved to the other side reaching out for another picture.
It was a picture of him and Three back when they were both in their recolored designs. Back when Three seemed to like Four a little bit…
The picture is back on Christmas when Four insists on taking a selfie with him and Three while Mario is the one to use the camera. SMG3 felt a bit uncomfortable with the idea but Four still insisted.
Grabbing him around the shoulder, Three is seen blushing red in the camera while Four just smiles casually.
[AJ]
“You kept this….” 3 took the picture away from him, his face was red and he was extremely frustrated with 4.
[Liz]
“I…” Three wanted to respond but never dared to. SMG3 felt like his whole world tore apart right after a single thing he’d done. Now everything about his friendship with Four is destroyed.
Four tilted his head from side to side seeing all of the notes that were all mostly drawings of him and the pictures Three and him have been together or even without three and just him only marked with pink hearts all over.
“Three… you… you’ve been hiding all of this from me this whole time…?” Deep silence caused Four to get more upset. “Three… please…” “Stop.” The notes three were holding are now crushed right after clenching his fist.
“YOU WOULDN’T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING AT ALL!” He slapped Four’s hand away after trying to reach him.
“Then just tell me-”
“FOR MEMES SAKE- WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS SO DENSE? I LIKE YOU IDIOT?!”
Three snapped out to Four as soon as he kept pushing Three to finally admit these feelings that he’d never given to him years from now.
Four, still lying down on the ground, looked up at Three to see the tired look on his face. His red cheeks were visible enough and had been caught in tears streaming down from his eyes.
He took a harsh breath and began to avoid his stare, he looked down to his side. “There…” he took every second to catch up on his words, taking deep breaths to regain his stamina.
“Now… you know…” his eyes kept watering, it made him want to wipe it off. He was still mad at him during this time, he just wished that Four would go away.
Yet the man refuses to leave him alone.
Smg4 Pov
“Why didn’t he tell me…?”
My thoughts wandered from his act, I had never seen him like this before.
But when he finally said that he had feelings for me… I didn’t know why it just stabbed my heart after hearing him this broken.
I spoke right to his front, trying to understand why he kept avoiding me.
"But why 3... if you felt this way, then why didn't you at least see me one last time?"
“Was it selfishness…? Was he jealous…? Did he hate it when I said I was leaving…?”
Three as soon as he wiped his tears, he turned to me and stared right into my eyes with hatred and pain.
"BECAUSE IT HURTS FOUR! It hurts so bad seeing you leave and I CAN’T DO SHIT ABOUT IT…"
…
Oh…
(shit… I fucked up pretty badly… didn’t I…)
As much as I want to follow the path I’ve always dreamed of achieving, I promised myself to never hold back. Never LOOK back. But just seeing Three like this I don’t think I could ever say no just by baring to look at his eyes.
“Three… you know we both have been friends right…?” I saw him backing away from me and avoiding my glances, He kept picking up other of the notes that were left on the floor as soon as I saw the notebook right in front of me, one of the pages seemingly read as “SMG4” which was my name, is written on the lines.
“Dear Diary, I wish that SMG4 would have stayed here. But there's nothing that I can do now, I guess no one ever stays the same once there is one important thing way ahead in people's lives.
He’s leaving too. I don’t want him to, there's so many things that he’s done here. And now that he just started to leave? What kind of idiot does that man think he is? It’s not fair.”
There was a space gap in the paragraph, the last sentence is crossed out of the line. I leaned in closer to read the final letters. “I wish I could tell him- about how I feel-” The notebook is shut closed in my face as Three snatched it away.
“You’re moving away from us today… Leave me be… I don’t want to discuss any of this anymore” Three puts the remaining notes back on the pages and puts them back in the drawer, shutting it loudly.
Third Pov
“You should leave… Before you might miss the airport” Four got up from the ground and picked up his hat, putting it back on his head. “Can we just talk this out?”
“You don’t want to know how heavy it is to me when you’re gone.
I’ve waited every OTHER MOMENT of our time to get together but NO!
You wanted what you wished to get and you already had your time here, you enjoyed the celebration, the party, your friends, Mario, and everyone who was all up to support your dream. But me?
I’ve already run out of time, thinking about what could happen between the two of us, when you’re not by my side…”
Four wanted to speak to him, he wanted to hug him tightly. If he had to choose between the options of either leaving or staying, he could never decide.
What will he ever listen to? His heart or his head? But he could never decide about this, not with the one he loved, his friend that he broke his attachment to just because of moving far long away.
Which one should he decide…? Even though it was his dream… his partner…
He had already decided that following his dream was the only choice for him to do so, yet he also had no choice since he accepted that letter.
“I’m sorry…” Four backed away and ran to the elevator, Three was left alone from the scene.
—--
Four had finally had his luggage packed and was hugged by Mario and then by every other of his crew members.
“Mario’s gonna miss you very much!”
“I agree with Red, things are never the same without you around and…” Meggy and Mario gave each other looks and went completely silent right after they gave a sad one.
“Guys, what’s the matter?” They both looked at him with sad eyes as Meggy spoke the second time.
“Three was barely seen around the party. It seems like me and Mario wondered that it’s worrying him that you’ll be gone…”
Mario pulled out a meme quote out of the random. “Mario smells GAY DRAMA from you” His mustache grew as he sniffed him.
Four couldn’t help but think about what happened back to his lair. Was it all true? Did he- as in SMG3 have this kind of romantic feeling for him?
He tried not to think much about it since he was running out of time.
He knew he had to go but there's just something wanting to let him stay there, someone… who in particular was Three.
“Oh, yeah right. Him…” He immediately felt bad about the words he said to him, he couldn’t ever forget about it, it felt like the words were stuck to his head.
“SMG4- did something happen with your boyfriend? Did you both fight or something?” SMG4 flinched after hearing Mario say the word.
He began to back away from his words defending himself “What? We’re not boyfriends! He and I just had a misunderstanding- "On what exactly?” Meggy grinned in curiosity.
[AJ]
A honk of the bus caught everyone off guard, They all knew this moment would come sooner or later and they all had to be strong for their friend.
The crew gathered for one last hug before Smg4 stepped onto the vehicle.
He sat down and looked outside the window, seeing everyone waving him goodbye while the bus began to move.
He had one last glimpse of them, the showgrounds and Three’s Coffee shop.
He only saw for a moment, but swore that he did see Three watching him leave before going back inside.
The man in blue felt blue once again, he put on his headphones and watched some memes to make him feel better but nothing helped…
Smg4 then closed his eyes for a little while, waiting for him to reach the airport.
—--
After he was cleared for inspection, Four got on the plane earlier than expected. He should feel excited, overjoyed, and thrilled even for this wonderful opportunity yet he still feels upset.
He felt tired, he took his hat off for a breather and ran his hand through his hair. Looking at the lights and looking back down at his hat, noticing a small folded-up note inside.
Smg4 opened it up, expecting it was a fun quirky letter left behind by his friends but instead he was greeted with an old photo he took with Smg3 not so long ago, before the whole YouTube thing.
He had convinced Three at the time to take a selfie with him, Four giving his usual goofy grin while Three who was looking at the other just smiled, with his face colored with a bright tint of red.
There was also an added note written in purple ink, “I just love him and his goofy ahh smile so much” dotted with hearts.
The whole world felt like it stopped for Four, he held the picture close to face and he now knew for sure that deep down in his heart.
“I love him”
Smg4 Pov
“I love him, I do love him!” After so long I finally understood, I always felt that we were just more than friends. GOD I’ve been such an idiot, It's been so obvious this whole time!
I just love him so… but if I do love him, What the heck am I doing?
I look around me to see the plane filled up, If I do love him what am I still doing here?
This whole YouTube thing can wait, I need to see him, I need to get off the plane.
I put back the picture and wore my hat, grabbed my bag, and was determined to go after him.
Jumped out of my seat and rushed down the aisle, I could feel the stares of people I passed by but It didn't matter.
“Sir, you need to go back to your seat.” The flight attendant lady stood in my way, denying me the exit that was right there.
“But Miss-” I replied “I need to get off, I need to do something”
“I'm sorry, but I cannot allow you to leave-” We felt the plane shake as it began to take off.
Oh no.
—-
3rd POV
After a long day of serving customers, 3 placed a sign on the front door saying “We’re Closed”, grabbed a broom, and cleaned up. He sighs, wondering what could have been. If he had told 4 sooner than later, Would they have been happy? Would they still have to come across this problem? But, It's too late anyway, 4 made up his mind and he has to deal with it.
Smg3 kept on sweeping and sweeping, then he heard somebody enter.
“Oi! Shops closed!” He didn’t bother facing the person, he wasn’t in the mood at all.
“3…”
He recognized that voice, it was impossible. He turned around to see if it was real.
“I got off the plane” It was Four, standing in front of him with a sincere smile.
[Liz]
Smg3 scanned the area where Four dropped his suitcase.
The suitcase tumbled to the ground with a dull thud, and it landed face down, the wheels clattering against the floor.
Three’s face contorted into a surprised expression, His partner darted forward, sprinting to embrace him and open his arms wide.
Four’s arms held tightly to SMG3’s waist, and he lifted him into the air, spinning him around quickly, with their faces beaming with joy.
SMG4 carefully lowered SMG3 back down to the floor, their reunion now complete.
“You have no idea how much I’ve been missing you for so long, you idiot…” Three said softly. They turned to look at Four, who was now facing them with a rage-filled expression.
He, however, was not so quick to forgive and forget, and he let go of SMG4’s arms. Turning around as he punched him in the face, with all of the anger and resentment he had pent up over the years. “Ow, that hurt-” “Well that’s what you get for leaving me!” Three said.
Four rubbed his cheek after the punch, his face hurting yet understanding why SMG3 reacted the way he did.
After all, he had left him without even saying goodbye, acting like a true jerk-face. “I guess I deserve that. I’m sorry I hurt you.” Four said trying to reach for his hand to mend their relationship.
Three backed his hand away from him, he couldn’t bring himself to meet Four’s gaze, avoiding eye contact with him. He started to speak, but stopped his sentence, realizing something. “You didn’t make it to the flight…?” He asked as if it had just clicked in his mind.
“I came back to tell you something…” Four replied. “To tell you how much I loved you…” He offered his hand once more, and this time, Three accepted his hand, their bodies finally close as they embraced each other.
Three’s voice rose in an upset tone as he asked, “But what about the invitation? The content creations?” Aren’t you supposed to be following your dream?”
Four gave him a soft and warm smile and replied “I decided to follow my heart, the path I want to choose. I chose you, and our other friends.” He hugged SMG3 tightly and said. “I’m sorry for leaving you…” his response surprised Three.
“So- you’re not leaving?” Three questioned with wide eyes, feeling so much relief that a smile spread across his face. Four shook his head in reply and said, “No, I’ll never leave you or anyone else. I promise.”
Three’s eyes welled up as all the emotions flooded his mind, he felt relieved and overcome with happiness.
SMG4 noticed this and quickly wiped the tears away from the man’s cheek, saying “Hey, you’re crying.”
Three gave him a laugh and replied, “I’m just glad that you came back…” He then gave the man in blue a kiss.
Four was taken aback by the sudden display of attention, he was not prepared for the display of affection that Three had recently given him just now.
Four’s eyes immediately closed as Three pulled him in for a kiss. The long, drawn-out kiss was now the end, and all that could be seen was two lovers locked in a passionate embrace.
-THE END-
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Hello! Sorry if you have already done something like this but I would love the professors' (whichever ones you feel comfortable writing) reactions to mc struggling in class due to being so stressed/tired/overwhelmed from the chaos that is their fifth year. I would love some parental vibes
Thank you! :)
A/N: Hogwarts professors deserve all the love 💕
HL PROFESSORS REACT TO MC STRUGGLING IN CLASS
ELEAZAR FIG: He gets a pit in his stomach from guilt. MC's circumstances aren't entirely in his control, but he feels responsible for them. The first thing he does is get them to take a break. Full stop on everything. Take a few days to decompress and refocus. Afterwards, he'll be right next to them to help them catch up on their studies. They'll pass their O.W.Ls with flying colors if he has anything to say about it.
MATILDA WEASLEY: This doesn't entirely surprise her given the rumored extracurricular activities MC has been up to. She has a heart-to-heart with them in her office. She wants the full story. No more deflection or bullshit. Tell her the truth. She takes the whole ancient magic thing pretty well, even if she doesn't fully understand. With their powers being so heavily tied to the goblin threat, suppose certain school assignments will have to be postponed. She can make arrangements.
CHIYO KOGAWA: She sees the heavy bags under MC's eyes when they come to tell her they completed another one of her assignments. They could barely focus on the wand movements necessary for the new spell. She has them sit and she pours a cup of tea. "Imported from my hometown in Japan. Just got it today. Have some. Might help you feel better; along with some decent sleep."
AESOP SHARP: He pulls them aside after class. "If you keep falling asleep standing up, you're going to wake up face first in your brew." His tone wasn't accusatory, but it made MC cry anyway. He's taken aback for a moment but he's seen this behavior before. They're exhausted. Likely pushing themselves too hard and not getting enough sleep. He holds out a handkerchief to them and then a small sleeping draught. "I have a new assignment for you. Go to your dorm, get comfortable and take this. Don't come back until you've caught up on sleep."
ABRAHAM RONEN: He sees MC fall asleep in his class again. No matter how much Natty prods them, they can't seem to stay awake. He doesn't allow Natty to bother them further, even when class ends. He lets them sleep until they wake up on their own and he has a tall cold glass of pumpkin juice poured for them. He sits next to them, pouring a glass for himself. "Don't panic. You didn't miss anything important. But, I am worried for you. Why are you falling asleep in class?"
MIRABEL GARLICK: She asks MC to stay behind after a lesson and asks what's been going on, they don't seem themselves. "Your engagement in class has fallen really low. Why is that, my dear?" As MC starts pouring their heart out and tearing up, she pulls them into a warm hug. This makes MC cry more but she just gently shushes them and rubs their back. "Let it all out, dearie."
MUDIWA ONAI: She's a master at reading body language. She can tell just by looking at them that MC has been running themselves ragged. She puts a hand on their shoulder and looks them in the eye. "Even the sun must rest, MC. You are powerful, full of potential, but without rest, you are as well suited for life as a dehydrated toad." MC laughs a little and nods understandably. She pulls MC close and gives them a forehead kiss. "Take better care of yourself."
BAI HOWIN: If there was one class MC could slack off in, it was beasts. She found them asleep in the hay multiple times and she doesn't bother them. She does get curious after a while if her class is just nap time for them or if there's something else going on. If they come clean that they've been overworking themselves, She doesn't give them more assignments from her class other than the necessities.
DINAH HECAT: "Enemies are going to catch you on your back foot at this rate." She comments as MC sluggishly packs up after class. "Perhaps You should limit your extracurricular activities for a while. Studying for your O.W.Ls seems to have you busy enough." But then MC sits down hard on the bench and MC lets it all out. They tell her everything. She sits and listens calmly. "I see...let me talk to Professor Weasely on your behalf. Perhaps we can work something out."
CUTHBERT BINNS: His class is where most catch up on sleep anyway. He's not overly concerned, but if MC asks for more review material he is happy to provide.
SATYAVATI SHAH: "Wake. Up." Her sharp voice can snap anyone out of sleep. "That's the third time this week. You're falling behind. Do I need to start deducting house points to make you care about your studies?" MC doesn't even look at her, they just shake their head. She feels a pang of guilt for going hard on them, they seem to genuinely be struggling, but life's a struggle. They'll figure it out or fail.
PHINEAS NIGELLUS BLACK: This doesn't seem like his problem.
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The Vampire and the Stag: A Look Into the Symbolic significance of Dutch Van Dir Linde and High Honor Arthur Morgan
Warning: This post has spoilers for Red dead 2
Symbolism is one of the most important visual and literary elements used to push the narrative of Red Dead Redemption 2. The game is chock full of biblical references, animal symbolism, and references to other famous works. Hell, I might've even found a Blood Meridian reference via that Judge Meredith Holden letter, but that might be a reach. In any case, this game uses symbolism to push the story further and I want to do a short little retrospective on my two favorite characters of this game and what they represent in the literary sense.
Let's start with Dutch.
Dutch Van Dir Linde is many things. He's a violent idealist, a romantic, a gang leader, a notorious outlaw, and a legendary gunslinger in his own right.
He's also an allegory for the vampire, and by vampire, I mean the European literary symbolism of the creature.
Let's start off with looks. Right from the get go, Dutch is differentiatued from the rest of the gang members by his luxurious and eccentric appearance, something that the vampire usually has. He had gold chains, personalized gold rings, one with a D and another with a lion. His jacket seems to be velvet, he smokes cigars rather than cigarettes, and his hair is done up in ringlets as we know his actual hair texture is straight rather than curly (Guarma, epilogue, RDR1).
His color scheme is also very stereotypical of the more modern vampire. While other characters usually have a more diverse color scheme, Dutch is suited in reds and blacks the entire main game.
The nature of the undead is also with Dutch via his horse, the Count. First of all, there is just the name the Count that gives off vampire energy (Count Dracula) but there is also the fact that Dutch's horse shouldn't exist. Foals born with albinism, which is the coat the Count is said to have, die because of lethal white syndrome. The Count should have died long ago but it's still alive somehow- he cheated death like a vampire. That's also not mentioning death in the sense that death comes riding on a pale horse.
Vampires in classic literature are never just about vampires as these charming blood sucking creatures almost always exist to convey a deeper meaning of consumption. In the 1800s, this idea of consumption, with the most famous visualization of it being the older vampire man sucking the blood of young, usually virginal women, is often an allegory for selfish sex and defilement. Vampires in old media could very well be a criticism of wealthy men taking advantage of younger women, taking their virginity, and then tossing them aside and being virtually fine while the women lose everything from respect to family to even lives, which can also be the case with Dutch and Molly, but overtime, the vampire became less an allegory to write sex without outwardly writing sex in the 1800s, and became more a symbol of personal consumption at the expense of others.
The wonderful Professor Thomas C. Foster puts it best: "That's what this figure (the vampire) really comes down to, whether in Elizabethan, Victorian, or more modern incarnations: exploitation in its many forms. Using other people to get what we want. Denying someone else's right to live in the face of our overwhelming demands. Placing our desires, particularly our uglier ones, above the needs of another. That's pretty much what the vampire does, after all." - "How to Read Literature Like a Professor"
Dutch is basically that. He consumes people for the sake of his own goals, his own dreams, and his own delusions of grandeur. He will believe in people as long as those people believe in him, but their belief in him is more important to him than his belief in them.
Dutch seems like a Messiah to the disenfranchised, a Jesus figure of sorts. He seems charming, empathetic, cultured, and different from other men, like the vampire. People are enthralled by him, become obsessed or loyal to him, like the vampire's victims. However, these people, like Arthur, John, Molly, Bill, Javier, etc., are used and Dutch, the vampire, doesn't return the favor as he only consumes for his own favor.
And in the end? People suffer or they die and Dutch moves on to his next victims, even if he did love these people.
Dutch is the embodiment of the vampire in every possible way except in the most literal way, which is the blood sucking.
Now let's move on to Arthur Morgan.
Arthur and the stag are one in the same when it comes to Red Dead's symbolism. If one were to mention a stag in the Red Dead universe, more likely than not, people would think of high honor Arthur Morgan. The Stag is Arthur's symbolism, but let us dig a little deeper into what the stag could symbolize beyond just high honor.
When it comes to animal symbolism, stags are almost as iconic as male lions with what they are meant to represent. All throughout various cultures, the stag usually represents a noble creature. It can represent honor (duh), strength, virility, grace, and regeneration, amongst other things, but I want to focus on interpretations of the stag from a few cultures and how they ultimately relate back to Arthur Morgan.
Considering that Arthur has Welsh heritage, or so we assume, let us start with the interpretation of the stag in Welsh culture and mythology. The stag has a huge presence in Welsh culture and mythology, with even some gods and higher beings taking the image of a stag. However, I would like to focus on the stag as a messenger, a messenger between worlds, which is what Arthur becomes in a sense to John Marston.
John's world for such a huge part of his life as the gang. The gang raised him, fed him, taught him to read, taught him morals, taught him many skills, and gave him a purpose. The gang is his world and for such a huge chunk of his life, it was the only world he knew. Sure, Abigail gets pregnant because of him, but she was a part of that world too.
Arthur was able to see other worlds. Mary wasn't a girl who was downtrodden like Abigail and thus would take on well to the life they lived. She was a normal girl and he was not a normal man. Eliza wasn't part of his gang life either, and neither was Issac. They lived in a different world, in a world of civilization, in a world where they didn't or shouldn't have had to keep one eye open to stay alive. Arthur would jump over to their worlds, even if just for a short amount of time, and then back to the gang- he has seen and experienced both of those worlds.
Arthur then gives John the message that he should leave and be a man and provide for his wife and protect his child by leaving the gang life that destroyed the both of them. Arthur becomes a messenger from one world to another- from gang life to normalcy. And with that message, John experiences a change- a change of character and motives.
The Stag is a messenger and Arthur is a messenger. A messenger to not only John, but to everyone else he tried to get out of there for he experienced two worlds and one is better than the other.
Another interpretation of the stag is the selflessness of sacrifice, which can be shown through the Greek culture of story and mythology and explained perfectly in the story "Iphigenia at Aulis" by Euripides. Iphigenia goes to her father and tells him that she will offer herself as a sacrifice to the goddess Artemis. Sacrifices must be made to keep the gods happy and the people alive and happy. Iphigenia offering such a thing shows her selflessness, her want of wanting others to be safe and sound, even at the expense of herself.
Sound familiar?
Reminds me of a certain dark romantic cowboy.
By the end of the story, Iphigenia's selflessness was rewarded by the goddess, and as Iphigenia's father was about to slit her throat, the girl got replaced by a stag while Iphigenia was escorted to live amongst the gods for her selflessness.
The deer becomes the sacrifice and in a way, Iphigenia and the deer become one and the same. The deer is sacrificed for the sake of others- the stag becomes a symbol of noble selflessness, much like Arthur. Arthur sacrifices himself in order to save John, Abigail, and Jack- a noble cause, a noble sacrifice.
The stag being a noble sacrifice is also associated with certain Native American cultures (I cannot for the life of me think of which tribes they were exactly, but once I find them, I will edit this post). The stag must be killed for people to eat, thus the deer is a noble creature. The consumption of the stag is an allegory of people living better lives or having better days because of the sacrifice of a person. Because of that, the stag is a heavily respected creature.
And given that Dutch's vampire is all about consumption, Arthur's symbolism of being a stag is perfect for their dynamic since the deer is all about sacrifice and nobility and the vampire is all about selfishness and despair.
In any case, the deer represents many things across many cultures, from being a messenger to being a sacrifice, but one thing for certain is that the stag is synonymous with honor and nobility- the person that Arthur tried to be in the end.
Yapyapyapyapyapgodifuckinglovesymbolism-
#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#arthur morgan#dutch van der linde#symbolism#literature#vampires#stags#yall did i cook?#i had so much fun with this#also#that how to read like a professor book is godlike
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Fall Unto Me (part four)
Part one, part two, part three
The end of Angel!Angel and Demon!Ren yayyyy I'm sooo excited to have the rest of my brain back!!! IT'S FINALLY OVER (mostly).
A very long and nonsensical string of writing thoughts and notes on it will be posted much later. Also if anyone wants to ask questions I can answer them in the infodump or on discord if you want a more immediate response... I hope you enjoy da finale 👉👈 sorry this is my baby i really love talking about it but it was impossible til now fjdslkjflks
cw// religious themes
14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI
That mundane, quiet night had taken a turn for the better. You could barely move a muscle after trying to settle your curious desires for your devilish companion, though they still remained. The books and red string were put back where they belonged before you found yourself cradled in strong arms and curled under silken sheets.
Ren had brought you to rest in bed, arms keeping you securely nestled at their side. His bare chest felt incredibly warm against your cheek. The sound of their heart beat steadily, and you moved your head to hear it better. Mesmerizing, and comforting.
“I'm… tired? Fatigued?” you muttered aloud. It was so hard to stay awake, your eyes kept fluttering. You’d never been quite so drained before.
He gently held your chin to look at you, smiling all the while. “Why do you think? You’re an absolutely ravenous angel. Were it not for that fatigue, you’d surely still have me pinned on the floor with your head thrown back in—”
“Hey!” you interrupted him. The casual way they said it had you suddenly embarrassed. Being aware of your newfound… ‘ravenous’ side was something else entirely.
“It was a wonderful sight, my love, little angel,” he sang your praises with adoration, ending at a word. That word. The one you didn’t know.
An odd little pet name you were all the more curious about.
“What's that word you keep saying?” you asked and his eyes suddenly widened. “I love all the endearing things you call me, but that one—I can't place it.”
“...Oh, love,” he whispered, muffled as they leaned down to press a kiss to the crown of your head. “I’m so sorry. I won't use it anymore.”
“Huh? Is it something bad?” You weren't sure what he meant by that, but you knew well and good they'd never say something cruel to you, let alone call you by a cruel word. Nonsensical as the question was, no other reason came to mind.
“Not at all. It's my favorite word,” his voice was soft, almost heartbroken. “I didn't think you'd forget it so soon… I'll tell you when you're ready, I promise. For now, you only need to rest.”
A simple nod in response on your part. You accepted the answer so easily. There was nothing to worry about anymore. With how exhausted you were from the act, sleep was a natural decision. You could talk in the morning. Or any morning after, you no longer minded. Eventually you'd leave, so what was another few days or weeks?
You settled in and closed your eyes, lulled to sleep by their heartbeat in your ear.
💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤
Cold. You woke up cold. Jolted awake from your own nightmare of falling, drowning in the endless clouds that you once walked upon with ease, only to land in the depths of the freezing ocean below you. With a hushed gasp, you sat up in bed.
The devil was asleep right beside you. Pink hair stained with eerie grays from the moon’s glow through the open window, horns so dark they almost blended into the shadows, ghastly inked patterns that crawled from their shoulders down to their hands.
One of his was laced tightly with yours.
You trembled as you slowly pried his fingers away, crawled backwards on the bed until you felt nothing under you and almost fell like that cursed dream.
But the same hands you struggled to get away from caught you. You found instant comfort in his touch, despite the disgust that climbed up your back when you woke—where did it come from? Why were you even trying to get away?
“I've got you, it's alright,” Ren murmured softly. He guided you to stand, wrapping a wrinkled shirt over your naked shoulders along with his arms. You held on as tight as you could. Your fingers were shaking.
“I need to—I need to go, Ren. Now,” you gasped into his chest. Your entire body was unsteady, vision blurred from tears you weren't capable of shedding. Whatever you were saying didn't make sense in your head. You needed to go… somewhere. You could picture the place—it had sunkissed clouds as far as the eye could see—but did it have a name?
He read your mind, gently offered the word you couldn't think of, “Heaven?”
There. Home. You nodded.
“You'll only get hurt.”
“I already know I'll have to repent before my god,” you muttered sheepishly and pulled away, clutching the shirt like a cloak. His knowledge was vast as ever, but what did a demon know of heaven’s affairs?
“No, little angel. If you even make it that far,” they cursed the realms under their breath and followed as you left the room in a sudden hurry. “They'll take whatever is left of your halo and wings.”
You didn't waste any time throwing open the cabin’s door and walking out into the cool night air. Forced to pause at the sight in front of you, you stared; the breathtaking field of flowers was fully blooming. They were finally as high as Ren promised, the tallest with their golden petals proudly on display in the hallowed shape of a halo.
The beauty only helped his words to sink in. Whatever is left of your halo and wings? You turned around, fully expecting him to be right behind you.
You were face to face as you questioned him, a bite of anger held in. “What do you mean?”
Blue eyes that only seemed paler in the night, once full of hatred for heaven, pooled with long lost grief. “You've fallen from their grace,” he said quietly.
“That doesn't happen.” You denied it quickly. Such a thing had never happened in all the histories of heaven, you at least knew that without ever reading those records. If what he said was true, it’d be common knowledge. A warning that all angels would heed.
“It does, because I—”
A bell rang in the darkened night sky above. Ren froze with unknown fear for a split second and hurriedly reached towards you, shouting something. Another bell obscured their voice, then another and another until the number grew to so many your thoughts drowned in their thunder. Someone was calling you home.
Before you even realized it your wings sprouted forth and threw the unbuttoned shirt he'd given you to the wind, bringing a burning anguish so suddenly intense to bloom in the middle of your back that you fell to your knees. Ren immediately kneeled in front of you. The pain and desperation in his voice pulled at your very core, except you couldn't understand a thing. The bells were so loud. You cried out sharply. It may as well have been silence from what little else you could hear.
A cracking noise managed to cut through the clamor of the bells above. Translucent shards of stained glass dropped from your head and piled themselves in the dirt at your knees. There was so little of it but you recognized the golden shade, illuminated by the fire licking at your shoulders.
The halo that you'd gained once the library's doors had beckoned you. The few pieces that remained of it, anyway.
Your heart stopped, then started anew. A feeling worse than the holy fire that was turning your beloved wings from feathered grace to ash. He was right; you'd fallen long before this night.
A thousand bells began to still, one by one. You could start to hear Ren again, though only a few words were clear.
“...At night… Forgive… Happen… …Never wanted this for you.”
The last feather fell away into nothing, and the burning in your back, along with the bells, died with it. All the heat you could feel was the demon only inches away, his desolate gaze fixed to you.
You blinked, tear stained cheeks now icy from the salted wind blowing across the ocean. Bits and pieces came back as memories.
The simple, towering clouds that decorated the heavens far as the eye could see. A sun that shined brightly, an everlasting sunrise that greeted you no matter the day. The library that once seemed like paradise you were destined to guard for the rest of time. All echoes of the being that was no longer you.
Something was missing.
“My… that word,” you whispered. He'd told you it was his favorite word. One that you’d forgotten. “... It was mine?”
He smiled as best he could. It didn't reach his eyes. “You remember it.”
“A little.”
“Then... let me say it for you?” he asked and you nodded. They leaned close, the word slowly leaving their lips with reverence, sadness, unwavering love.
Nothing about it sparked as familiar on the surface. But the word once belonged to you, that empty part inside understood it. Fresh tears welled in the corners of your vision. “When did they take it from me?”
Ren gently wiped your cheek as the tears overflowed again. “I don't know.”
“How—it was mine,” you repeated with a sob. You felt the cold seeping through you and huddled into his embrace. Their body felt more warm and inviting than anything around you. There was nothing—no one else you could ever reach out to anymore.
“I’m sorry. We only have eternity together, my love,” he breathed, tucking your head below his chin with a strangled noise. “I'll say it each and every day so you'll never forget it. I don't want to lose your name, either.”
#14 days with you#14dwy redacted#14dwy ren#cw religious themes#momo writing#posted a little early#i'm impatient#and i want to release myself from this prison /silly#AM I REALLY EVER FREE THOUGH?#my fingers are enjoying their break except i'm losing my shit trying to NOT write redacted stuff#that's totally normal right#if you've seen my brain leaking out in the discord for the past few weeks MY BAD!!!#<- it will keep happening
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more swindle headcanons because he won't leave my brain and i'm tired of him
crazy good at math. he's able to calculate the price/cost of something within seconds. the only reason he's not a mathematician/accountant or anything like that is because swindle wouldn't do well with those jobs. swindle likes moving on his pedes, not sitting behind a desk
extremely well-versed in politics. but not because he's very political or anything; swindle just likes knowing where and when the next intergalactic war is raging so he can profit off it. it helps to keep up with the news
workaholic. though this trait is less notable to see in him than say, someone like optimus (mostly because swindle takes great care not to let his exhaustion be shown. his image MUST be perserved, after all)
used to keep a diary in which he noted anything interesting he found on the planets he traded with. he was actually semi-organized with it, and even included some crude doodles of the organics he ran into. he stopped journaling once the war broke out, though, and hasn't journaled since due to fear of his diary being used as blackmail
answers questions like a politician. if u want a straight answer from swindle then good fucking luck LMAO. he doesn't like to go into detail about his past. it's all old news, anyway
he's a Beyonce fan. i feel it in my bones
puts effort into his image. granted his image got fucked over ever since he defected to the decepticons LMAO but the point is that swindle tries to make himself look better than he actually is.
surprisingly open-minded. he has to be. if he were to be openly xenophobic to the multitude of alien races he trades with, then his business would tank. besides, he's actually pretty curious about other worlds besides his own (ex; how he mentioned he spied on the human villains in the SUV episode, and thought their whole get-up was "exciting")
he hates hates HATES the cold. if he HAS to do business in a cold planet, he will bitch and complain about it the entire time except when he's in the negotiating room
when he was a young bot, swindle was pretty open book. that's not to say he didn't LIE back then, it just so happened that swindle was created with a super expressive faceplate, and you could always tell what swindle thought based on whatever look he was giving you. this got him into some...issues (dw he learned how to keep a poker face later on)
not the jealous type (how can he be jealous when he's the most wanted bachelor on cybertron?) but on the rare occasion that he IS, he gets real quiet. probably sulks to himself in a corner while sipping on some energon. if confronted, he'll brush it off but don't you doubt it for one second; he is PISSED
says he doesn't have any regrets or moral dilemmas about his job, but that's only half of the truth. swindle takes care not to give himself enough time to think about the past. it makes living easier that way. and swindle is a creature who seeks comfort, even if it inconveniences everybody else around him. don't try to call him out on this bad habit of his; he will huff and excuse himself by claiming you'd do the same thing too if you were in his shoes (or pedes?)
he does not like keeping living things in his subspace. he's made the mistake of storing a organic he thought was cute when he was younger, and it ended up with a trip to med-bay (surprisingly, organics don't like being in strange voids filled with nothing but weapons)
fantastic at detecting scams. he doesn't have a mod for it or anything, he just KNOWS
has a """"healthy"""" amount of paranoia. he claims he's just looking out for himself, given the kind of business he's in, but there's times where the paranoia really fucks with his health
really likes sprinkling those "infomercial phrases" into his daily speech. he thinks it makes him sound suave. thought he sometimes fucks up with the delivery and he just gives up mid-way lmao ("guard the prisoners...orrr loot the ship? it's a no process-...or? er? err..." - a direct quote from decepticon air)
he's mostly self-aware. the only thing he isn't honest about to himself is his own emotions
whenever he feels stupid stuff like "fear" or "stress" or (shudder) "remorse" he takes a look at his bank account. it helps him, in a weird way. because yes, he's an outlaw, and yes, he's technically gambling his and everyone else's life, and YES, there's days where he winds up battered and broken, barely an inch away from death, but...at least his efforts aren't for nought. they're adding up to something; with every corpse, swindle's wallet gets fatter. and with all that money in his servos, swindle might be able to buy himself the one thing cybertron can't offer him: peace
^ swindle thinks he deserves this. he delusionally believes he deserves peace and riches more than anybot
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rewatching S6 in bits and pieces for current fic and ahhhhhhhhhh but the whole Jack, Diana, Mosley and Lizzie final dinner is so *viscerally* fucking satisfying on every sensory and intellectual and emotional level of consumption.
#every single movement facial expression breath flick of an eye the choice of 'mosley' not 'mr mosley'#the way mosley says 'lizzie' for the first time#jack's buildup and his mad fucking innuendo just before diana and oswald show#particularly how every drink is taken and by whom and when#lizzie constantly holding herself back the entire time from Saying Something all these flinches and half-breaths#insane#INSANE#as much as the end of S3 is roaringly wrenchingly furiously emotionally good#this dinner is something else#this whole episode is pretty much something else though fffffffffffff#jack's patronising constant reference to tommy as if he's a much younger man/boy when you look at these two guys and jack looks younger??#by design i am sure#in the scene with the tie before the dinner.the way tommy's face says one thing while facing away from lizzie#then he puts on that mask as he turns to face her and you can SEE HIM DO THAT jesus#it would a writing exercise and a half to actually try to capture that scene in writing and work out what needs to be said/described#to carry the same effect because @coffeeatnight23 -> this scene is totally Tommy ripping his own heart out then eating it with relish :)#it *is* the saddest thing but also a fucking *reclamation* of something that tommy hasn't had since his suicide attempt. there's lots of#small reclamations of self that happen in post-Ruby S6 i seem to recall. despite flicks old trauma/foggy memory wandering also this-#-sort of structural shift/acceptance he is who he is and that is how he has agency (not solely money?)#anyway it's not triumph but there is *something* that i haven't found the word for yet#acceptance is one word but there's something more vicarious and dark in it that acceptance doesn't connote
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So basically, in a case about him shoving money at someone so they shut up about him. . .he can’t shut the fuck up himself. I would say something clever and funny here, except the sad part is that this is just so normal in current politics that it’s just. . .not hilariously absurd behavior anymore? Not to say that it’s not absurd - it is beyond such, but it is just. . . predictable, I suppose.
I guess this is how I feel about politics lately? Either I get mad at everything or I try to laugh at everything and normally that works because politicians usually aren’t so tragically stupid so very often, but now I just kinda have to chuckle at the particularly eyeroll worthy things like this, and try to ignore everything else or my brain will explode.
#maybe that’s my biggest pet peeve about the current state of politics#Normally I like having discussions with people#of various mindsets and lifestyles and backgrounds#while my personal standpoint about many if not most political things is pretty solid. I also enjoy finding out more about things.#It’s always nice to learn more about things.#when it gets to a point like this or let’s be real-a point like where it got a few months ago when. More like a couple years ago honestly#There’s just so much. Too much. And two try to process all of it especially in a way such that one keeps up with useful discussion? oof.#I know I meant to do something else in these tags – something more specific – but at least on mobile#I just lost like three tags because the one I was working on hit 140 but when I was warned#I didn’t get to backspace or anything. I just kind of deleted the whole thing.#And in my confusion and attempt to undo what I had done#I managed to backspace a couple times and lose the finish tag above that one#and of course my first attempt at explaining that I had lost two tags turned into three tags because#I lost the first attempts that said two tags because it went over and yet again my attempt of not backspace this time#I just lost another two tags and then at this point I don’t even remember where I was going with this train of thought either#tl;dr: I wish I could take as much amusement from this as I want to but I can’t because shit like this is just so fucking normal#but hey it’s better than January 6 or trying to nuke a hurricane so I suppose I can live with it#right so I realize that I got to read all of the things I just typed in the page before this#so I did and while I have a laughable amount of nowhere near the fuck enough spoons#there’s a very good chance I am going to come back to this when I get on my iPad or PC#There’s also a very good chance I’m going to completely forget this post exists if not the app entirely#but given that I finally downloaded this on my actual phone instead of my tablet for the first time in years#And I just lost another fucking tag#this time naturally it had to be one with Contant that I remember as semantically important#but similarly naturally of course I don’t bloody well remember#right so I am going to go back to the stuff I was doing now cause I was doing stuff before I saw a Tumblr notification#which I didn’t actually look at at the time but but I can absolutely be sure that it was a hefty part of the reason why#when I found something that I wanted to post about and a context that had a larger audience and not just individuals#didn’t have FB/Reddit (tho lbr I would probably have a 6 foot nose if I tried to imply they were great social networks)#which goes back to seeing the tumblr notif & still having a big Nostalgia so. hi here i am
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✨The Fashionista✨
Rise Ramblings #234
While watching “The Clothes Don’t Make The Turtle,” I noticed something.
I found it interesting that Raph, Mikey, and Leo were content with Raph’s outfit choice until Donnie stated that he wasn’t “in love with it, ya’ know.”
Suddenly, Raph declares “I’m a disaster!” Albeit ridiculously endearing, it was a little strange to see his sudden shift from moderately content to absolute dissatisfaction. Huh…
Then, the disaster twins decide to help him out.
Take a note of their outfit choices.
Raph tries on all of these fits and more.
Donnie’s first choice is a mild “no.” Leo’s choice is a hard “NO.” (Not surprising, lol.) But then, the overwhelming consensus lands on Raph’s fourth outfit, which ended up being Donatello’s other pick for his brother.
So, in summary, Raph tried on his personal choice for an outfit, of which they rejected. Then, ultimately, Donatello picked out an outfit for his brother, and that pick ended up being perfect. Hmm…
Then I noticed something else. In this episode, we never get a Donnie “curtain reveal” moment, to our disdain. I mean, Raph, Leo, and Mikey got to try on several different outfits in order to get their brothers' opinions before landing on that “perfect outfit, you know the one.” All of his brothers got to shine. Why not DonTron?
Then it hit me.
The try-ons were to get their brothers' opinions and approval. And, for his brothers' choices, he was a major contributor in assisting them in pulling their looks together.
What if, bear with me, Donnie didn’t need the "curtain scene" because he was so confident in his fashion sense that he didn’t need to ask his brothers for help to pick out a great look.
…or they figured out how to break Hypno’s spell before he could get a “curtain reveal.” BUT STILL-
Look at his outfit choices in this episode. Some of his wardrobe changes were off-screen, but all of them were fire.
(I added the baseball cap pic because it makes me happy. I wish we'd seen more of that fit.)
To me, he makes some really smart choices for himself, pushing the envelope of what is expected and taking chances: an open collar with no tie for a “black tie” event, a beanie and spiked wristbands for their “gansta look,” no socks with loafers (a viral fashion trend that actually began in Africa) with old man slacks in his reclined pose. *muah* Chef’s kiss!
But Don’s fashion sense doesn’t just shine in this episode.
In “Reparin’ the Baron” the boys go to Draxum’s apartment. Leo and Donnie show up in some extra nice “Sunday Dinner” twin drip.
The gold is in the details. Everything Leo is wearing, Donnie rocks its compliment: for Leo’s round collar, Donnie’s is angled, for Leo’s blue shirt, Donnie’s is white, For Leo’s light slacks, Donnie’s are dark. Blah blah blah. It’s so good!
Look at the winter fit in Snow Day.
Again, Donnie is Leo’s perfect compliment. As a pair? Fire.
Donnie has “the eye.” I can go on and on with examples, but I’ve said all of that to say this…
In the future, we see that Donatello’s technology had major pull in the resistance. He had drone ships patrolling the skies. He built and designed Leo’s arm, Casey’s chainsaw-hockey stick, and Casey's mask. The list goes on…
But, when Donatello from the past see’s Casey’s clothing from the future, he says this:
We know about the “Genius Built” brand. We’ve seen that logo on all of his tech up to this point. But, here he didn’t just say “Genius Built.” He said, “Genius Built Apparel.”
“Apparel” is not a tech brand. “Apparel” is a fashion brand. Of course, tech is incorporated into the clothing, but still.
This means that past Donatello secured this trademark with plans of creating a fashion brand, comparable to the likes of Gucci, Ralph Lauren, or any other modern clothing brand, as a subsidiary of “Genius Built,” the tech company.
And why not? The evidence has been in front of us this entire time. He has a sharp eye for style, fashion, and trends. It is easily canon that he can sew. Splinter sewed their ninja garbs in “Insane in the Mama Train,” and there is a sewing machine in the house.
They already learned Ninjutsu through basically osmosis, so learning to sew is not too far-fetched.
And here it is, right in front of us, Casey’s entire ensemble, from mask, to weapons, to clothing, was made by Donatello in the middle of the apocalypse under the brand name “Genius Built Apparel.”
And that was just in the bad future. Resources were limited, they didn’t have access to much of anything in that broken world as they were survivors of a devastating Krang invasion. Yet, he created all of this.
However, now that they’ve changed the future, his future as a fashion designer is limitless. Think of what Donatello could produce with unlimited resources, unlimited technology, and unlimited creative freedom.
Tech genius. Clothing designer. Fashionista. Future Genius Built Apparel Owner and CEO. I’m sorry, but I have to call it...
Donatello Hamato of the present, of the bad future, and of the good future is a fashion icon, the likes of which the world has never seen.
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Update:
I've decided to make this concept into a mini-comic series!
#Tech Genius#Clothing Designer#Fashionista#Future Genius Built Apparel Owner and CEO#Fashion Icon#Donatello Hamato#Donatello Ramblings#starkiss ramblings#rise analysis#rottmnt analysis#character analysis#rise don#rise donnie#rise donatello#rottmnt donatello#donatello#rottmnt#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise of the tmnt#tmnt2018#tmnt 2k18#tmnt 2018#save rottmnt#unpause rottmnt#unpause rise of the tmnt#save rise of the tmnt#save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles
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Title: In The Serpent's Den.
Pairing: Yandere!Suguru x Reader (JJK).
Word Count: 4.7k.
TW: Non/Con, Hybrid AU, AFAB!Reader, Cobra!Suguru, Rabbit!Reader, Biting, Aphrodisiacs, Heat Cycles, Oviposition, Manipulation, Biting, Breeding Kinks, and Predator/Prey Dynamics.
“It’s time to come out, little rabbit.”
His tone was sickly sweet, lulled into something saccharine and tempting, only slightly distorted by the uncommon shape of his tongue. Despite his melodic coaxing, you curled further into yourself – pulling your thighs flush to your chest and burying your knees in your face, doing your best not to breathe, not to cry, not to make a sound. The temptation to uncurl yourself entirely and run, run, run until you found somewhere small and dark and safe gnawed on the back of your mind, but it never would’ve worked. You were in Suguru’s enclosure, Suguru’s territory, and there was nowhere to run where he wouldn’t be able to follow.
“I’m losing my patience, little rabbit. If you come out now, I promise I’ll try to hold myself back.”
Why was he even looking for you? It’d been weeks since his eccentric, white-haired owner forced you into the sprawling greenhouse that made up Suguru’s enclosure, and he’d never paid you a second glance. You did your best to avoid him, to make sure you never crossed his path while he was prowling for a meal. You could count the number of times he’d acknowledged you on a single hand, and he’d never so much as lunged at you. You couldn’t imagine why he’d decided you’d make a good meal now, after weeks of relatively peaceful cohabitation. Maybe he’d gotten tired of keeping you around, of having to share his territory with another hybrid – one so far below him on the food chain. Maybe, this was just the first time he’d gotten hungry enough to hunt you down.
You heard branches shift, twigs break, and instantly, all of your thoughts (rational and otherwise) were replaced with a frantic, buzzing static. “You’re only making this worse for yourself,” Suguru went on, and his voice was too loud, too close. You’d tucked yourself into the densest patch of foliage you could find, but your white ears and cottony tail stood out like blood on snow against the vivid greens and blacks of the flora. Suddenly, trying to hide at all felt stupid. Rabbits weren’t supposed to hide. Rabbits were supposed to die and get eaten by the big, mean snakes who preyed on them. “I’m going to find you, and when I do, you’re only going to be sorry you made me wait as long as I have.”
You could hear the dull drag of scales moving over rough stone, the ebbing ‘hiss’ that formed a slight lisp at the end of each sentence. You raised your head just far enough to see a large, black shape move in front of you, and something buried deep inside of you cracked and spilled open.
Running wasn’t a choice – it was the only option. You were on your feet in a second, sprinting deeper into the greenhouse in another. The direction didn’t matter. As long as you got away from him, nothing else mattered.
Blindly, you vaulted over fallen branches and overgrown roots, rotting leaf litter threatening to steal your balance as you veered away from the beaten path and threw yourself into the tangled wilderness. If Suguru was chasing you, you couldn’t hear him – the world little more than a blur of color and your own racing pulse. You just needed to find somewhere better to hide, somewhere he’d forgotten. A tunnel, or a tree hollow, or a cave dark enough to hide your snowy pelt from prying eyes. You just needed to—
Your trek came to an abrupt end as your collided with a pane of thick, emerald-tinted glass and were sent crashing to the ground. It took you a second to process what you’d run into – the wall of the greenhouse, the edge of Suguru’s enclosure – and another to remember that you weren’t in the wilderness, anymore, that you wouldn’t find a tunnel or a cave or anywhere else to hide that hadn’t been created deliberately to trick animals like you into to think they were safe. You might’ve cried, if you hadn’t been so desperate. You might’ve gone looking for Suguru yourself, if you hadn’t been too scared to remember what it meant to be caged.
Fighting back tears, you started to scramble onto your feet, but it was already too late. There was no sound, no warning, just a sudden pressure against your back and an agonizing pain burrowed into the side of your throat. His fangs were planted in your neck before you could so much as scream, his strong tail wrapped around your legs and his arms crossed over your midriff, keeping your body locked against his as he pinned you to the ground. You expected his venom to burn, to be able to feel death as it flooded into your veins, but instead, there was only a slight numbing sensation around the point of insertion, a distant fog over your senses that might’ve just been your own fading adrenaline. If anything, you felt…
You felt warm.
Suguru took his time pulling away, his ribbon-like tongue flickering over the skin of your throat before he lifted his head. You weren’t facing him, one of your cheeks pressed into the dirt, but you could just barely see him out of the corner of your eye, make out the dark hair tucked behind his shoulders, the pitch-black scales littered over his face, his chest. You knew he was a snake, but you thought you might’ve heard his owner call him something else, once or twice. A ‘cobra’, maybe, but you’d never met a cobra before. You felt safer thinking of him as a snake.
He opened his mouth, but you were already babbling. Trying not to cry had been useless. Tears poured down your cheeks unabashedly, blurring your vision and making it that much harder to spit something coherent out. “P-please don’t eat me – I’m really small for a rabbit, and I promise I won’t taste very good, and I—”
“Quiet, little rabbit.” You’d been wrong, before. You didn’t feel warm, no, you felt hot – something deep inside of you beginning to smolder at the sound of his voice. Immediately, you shut your mouth, and he rewarded you with a raspy chuckle. “You thought I was going to… to eat you?” You nodded stiltedly, and he went on. “Ah, no wonder you were so afraid. And here I thought my timid little bunny just didn’t like me very much.”
“…’m sorry.” You must’ve run farther than you realized. A few minutes of sprinting shouldn’t have left you this breathless, this dazed. “You… You aren’t going to eat me?”
“No, bunny. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“But, you bit—”
“I gave you a present.” Another dry chuckle, his tongue flitting over the back of your neck. “Just a little something to make sure you wouldn’t be so shy. You should already be feeling better.”
You weren’t sure that you felt better, but you didn’t feel scared, either. A different feeling had taken the place of your fear – the sensation viscous and churning and prone sending pangs of dull, burning pain to the pit of your stomach. You had to make a conscious effort to move your lips, and even then, it was hard to get any sound past your suddenly dry throat. Suguru waited patiently, seemingly more than happy to watch you stumble over your own tongue. “It’s really warm,” you managed, eventually. “I think I might be… tired?”
“Oh, of course. I forgot how easy it is for prey animals to wear themselves out. I’ll take you back to my nest, where you’ll be able to rest safely.” It wasn’t a question, but you nodded eagerly. Safe. You wanted to be safe. You couldn’t remember what you needed to be safe from anymore, though.
He uncurled, but didn’t pull away from you. Rather, your smaller body was pulled against his broad chest as he took you in his arms and carried you through the greenhouse. His destination was a raised loft – set above the wild foliage of his enclosure, accessible only by a sparsely wrung ladder you never would’ve had a hope of climbing on your own. His nest wasn’t at all like a rabbit’s nest, either. Rather than a deep, dark tunnel padded with fur and leaves, he’d taken you to a mess of tangled roots and woven blankets, all piled onto one another to form a box-like bed. Your form, limper than you would’ve liked it to be, was laid on a relatively soft patch, and Suguru positioned himself above you; upper body supported by his forearms, his never-ending tail taking up whatever space you left unoccupied. You wanted to sleep, to do what he said you should, but he was still touching you – dragging a single, clawed finger down your chest and over your midriff, only pausing at your waist to draw slow, swirling patterns into your hip. “My venom has a unique side-effect, you know,” he muttered, his voice low and soothing, the tapered tip of his tail lashing from side to side as he spoke. “A full dose would be fatal. It’d be fast, too – a few seconds of screaming, a few seconds of twitching, and then—” He paused, clicked his tongue. “—dead, just like that. It’s a little anti-climactic, to be honest.”
Something deep inside of you began to throb. You shrunk into yourself, trying to relieve the pulsing ache, but Suguru mistook your agony for fear. “In controlled portions,” he continued, splaying his open palm over your hip. “The symptoms are much more pronounced. Humans tend to get all feverish and clumsy, but hybrids—”
Again, he paused. His hand drifted lower – first to your thigh, then your cunt. You didn’t realize you were dripping until his cold fingertips skirted over your slit, gathering up the slick already staining the inside of your thighs.
“Hybrids go into heat.”
A cold wave of dread washed over you, and Suguru’s smile widened.
“…heat?”
“Heat, little rabbit.”
His hand lingered on your pussy, two of his massive fingers splitting apart your lips and making room for his tongue to lap gingerly over your entrance. The sensation was strange – not good and not bad, a little ticklish – but your hips bucked as it flickered over your clit. You knew better than to get so close to a snake’s mouth, but you couldn’t seem to move, to think about anything but getting closer, closer to anything that could touch and poke and lick you. “Is heat—” You started, only to be cut off by a cracked whimper as the throbbing in your core intensified. “Is it supposed to hurt?”
“Only for a while.” His deep voice reverberated against your cunt, and you couldn’t stop yourself; attempting to rock your hips against his mouth with a high-pitched whine. It was embarrassing to be so needy, so desperate, but Suguru didn’t seem to mind, only ghosting his lips over the inside of your thigh as he pushed you back down. “But, you’ll need a mate to help you through it. Do you want a mate?”
“Y-Yes! Mate!” You’d never felt this empty, before. It was a little like hunger, but not as jagged, not as desolate. It was more of an absence than anything more tangible; a total and complete vacancy that had to be filled. You tried to roll onto your stomach, to scramble onto your hands and knees and present yourself, but Suguru held you in place with minimal effort. Your protest came in the form of a drawn-out whine, a waving sound Suguru mocked with a low coo and an airy laugh. “Please, please, it hurts, Suguru, I can’t— I need—”
“You need cock,” he finished, his tone one of pure, undeniable satisfaction. With a sigh, he picked himself up, straightening his back and towering above you. You felt saliva pool at the bottom of your mouth as the junction between his upper body and his tail came into view – pale skin slowly giving way to ebony scales, the sculpted muscle of his chest meeting the plated armor below his hips. His hand fell away from you, but you couldn’t mourn the loss of contact, not when your attention was so fixated on the thin, almost invisible slit just below his pubic bone. His fingertips slipped shallowly inside of it, and his gaze shifted back to you. “Come, little bunny. I think you’ve earned another treat.”
The encouragement was appreciated, but unnecessary. You were already crawling towards him, your limbs uncooperative and your movements jolting but your resolve absolute. There was still a throbbing emptiness inside of you, getting worse and more demanding with each neglectful second, but all you could think about was settling onto your knees in front of Suguru and drooling at the sight of his fluttering slit. You weren’t sure what to do, whether to use your hands or your mouth, but Suguru didn’t leave much time for indecision. His free hand found its way to the back of your head, nudging you forward until your mouth was pressed against his slit, just starting to leak thick trails of translucent slick over his dark scales. Your tongue darted past your lips hesitantly, at first, but your trepidation didn’t last very long. It couldn’t, not when you had a hollow pit inside of you still begging to be filled.
Suguru’s fingers carded through your hair as you lapped and sucked at his slit. The taste was mildly acidic, but surprisingly sweet – your eyes quickly falling shut as you sank into a pattern of wet sounds and strange textures and point claws grazing over your scalp, scratching at your ears. Throaty moans (the loudest noise you would ever hear Suguru make, in hindsight) and mumbled praise trickled past his lips as you worked, letting you know that he liked the way you were curling your tongue, that the spongy spot you could just barely reach inside of him was particularly sensitive. It wasn’t long before a mix of your saliva and his arousal dripped past the corners of your mouth, before the end of his tail was lashing violently within the confines of his nest. Maybe Suguru was in heat, too. You hoped he was. You didn’t want to be the only one in so much pain.
You felt the tapered tip of something smooth and stiff against your tongue, and Suguru buckled forward, a ragged gasp tearing past his lips as he took your head in both hands and pressed you flush against his abdomen. Confused and panicked, you tried to pull away, but his grip was iron-clad and it was all you could do to whimper, to sit there helplessly while something filled your mouth – hard and ridged and hot enough to burn. Cock, the pulsing in your core filled in, but it couldn’t be. Suguru had made it sound like something you needed, something you were supposed to want, but you didn’t like the way the blunt head prodded at the back of your throat, the way the ridged underside ground against your tongue. For the first time since he’d caught you, your instincts agreed with your better judgement, both urging you to get away, to run, to put distance between yourself and this newfound threat.
Your pussy, though, couldn’t seem to do anything but chant mate, mate, mate.
You could feel something else, too – not in your mouth, but pressing into your chin, your throat. Reflexively, your hands shot up, wrapping around the thick intruder, and this time, Suguru let go of you entirely, biting back a half-choked groan as he pushed you away, leaving you sprawled out and alone in the center of his nest. The hollowness inside of you was nearly unbearable, and rubbing your thighs together only seemed to make it worse. You tried to look to Suguru, to ask him to do something, but instead, your eyes caught on the long, pale appendage pressed into his lower stomach. His cock. Or, his cocks, you guessed.
You hadn’t expected there to be two of them.
You hadn’t expected them to be so big, either. Even at a distance, it was clear they weren’t meant for a rabbit. Just one would’ve been more than you could handle – as long as your forearm, as thick as your wrist, the end tapered to a steep point but the base absolutely massive before they disappeared into his slit. The color was strange, too – the tip flushed a dull pink while the base was nearly as dark as his scales, creating an ombre that might’ve been pretty, if you weren’t so terrified. You couldn’t see any veins, but both were sculpted with pronounced, perfectly spaced ridges. You couldn’t imagine having something like that inside of you, but you couldn’t imagine not having anything inside of you, either.
You couldn’t be sure how long you spent staring up at him, trying to wrap your head around his size, trying to decide if you’d rather be torn apart by his cock or your own increasingly demanding needs. In the end, it wasn’t really your choice to make. His eyes darted from your clenched thighs to your heaving chest to yours, wide and watery, and a grin found its way back to his lips. For some reason, his smile wasn’t as comforting as it’d been, the first time you saw it. “I’m sorry, little rabbit. Did I startle you?” The tenderness in his voice was almost cloying. You didn’t move, didn’t respond, but he didn’t seem to need you to. “I didn’t mean to. Why don’t you spread your legs nice n’ wide for me, and I’ll make it up to you?”
Your gaze fell back to his cocks. One of his fists had wrapped around both, pumping idly while he stood above you. “Are those supposed to…?” You trailed off, shrinking into yourself. Suguru hummed, and you took it as confirmation. “But you’ll only use one, right? I don’t think I can— I mean, it won’t fit if you—”
“Really? I could’ve sworn you were begging to be fucked properly just a few minutes ago.” You stiffened, but he only laughed. “Fine, fine. If that’s what you think you want, I’ll only use one.”
You didn’t think you could trust him, but you could feel yourself getting hot, again, a haze forming over your mind. You could leave when he was finished, you figured, even if you weren’t entirely sure how to get out of his nest, or where to go once you’d escaped back into the greenhouse. After you got over your— your heat.
Hesitantly, you started to listen to the negging mantra still playing in the back of your mind, to obey the near-deafening voice in the back of your head urging you to get on your hands and knees and make him fuck you, but Suguru must’ve decided you weren’t moving fast enough. His tail shifted underneath you, a thick coil catching your side and leaving you bent over one of the thicker lengths, your stomach pressed into his cool scales and your feet barely able to reach the tangled roots of his nest. You scrambled for purchase, but Suguru was there to steady you – his hands finding your hips, his cocks pressing into your ass. The calloused pads of his fingertips pressed into your waist as he aligned one of his cocks – the upper one, you thought, just a little thicker than its twin – with your entrance. He was kind enough to give you a long, slow second to breathe before his hips rutted forward and he inside of you.
Immediately, it felt wrong.
You’d been right when you decided he was too big for you. He was only half-sheathed, and yet, the tip of his cock pressed into the floor of your cervix, the head of his cock alone enough to stretch your pussy as far as it could go. Thankfully, he didn’t try to force himself deeper, but feeling the smooth ridges of rub against the walls of your pussy as he pulled back wasn’t much better. Still, your cunt clenched around him eagerly, doing its best to suck him in despite your physical limitations. Suguru, of course, seemed more than happy to indulge you. His thrusts were slow and lethargic, as gentle as they could’ve been but still forceful enough to leave you pinned to the curve of his tail. You weren’t in control of your body, anymore. As he rolled his hips against your ass, you ground back against him, your greedy cunt never warm enough, never wet enough, never full enough. You tried to dig your blunt claws into his tail, to ground yourself, but it was a futile effort; a limping dear attempting to evade a wolf who’d already tasted its blood. Suguru’s only response was a stifled groan, a new roughness to the way he fucked into you. You felt his chest against your back as he bent at the waist, draping himself over you, his dark hair falling from his shoulder and replacing chunks of your vision with a curtain of thick, endless black. It didn’t matter. A fresh wave of tears would’ve left you just as helpless, not that Suguru seemed to mind the way you sniffled and sobbed between moans.
“They say— fuck, you know what they say about rabbits, don’t you, bunny?” His voice was barely audible, but it seemed to echo on and on and on in your overly sensitive ears. His cock ground against something softened and vulnerable inside of you and your back arched, your pussy clenching impossibly tighter around him. “That’s it,” Suguru encouraged, as you tried to pry yourself away from his freezing tail and chase the gentle warmth of his chest. “They say bunnies make the best sluts. Knock them up once, and they’ll never stop begging for it.”
Kits. A strong mate. A safe nest. The thought alone had you crying out for nothing, your convulsions growing that much more erratic, and Suguru chuckled in-turn. “Like that? Want me to make you into my little mate-whore?”
“Want it, please, w-want it so bad.” It was all you could do to force yourself to speak, to spit something out through the daze of lust and exhaustion and total, unrelenting fullness. You’d never been more sure of anything than you were in that moment, never knew something as deeply as you knew that you wanted Suguru’s kits inside of you. “Please, wanna be you mate, wanna—Suguru—!”
One more thrust, one more scape of his sleek scales against your clit, and you were coming undone around his cock in jolting, erratic convulsions. Suguru let out a ragged grunt and straightened his back, but the distance was short-lived. Strong arms snaked under your knees, spreading your legs and hauling you up to his height. Your back remained pressed against his chest as he pulled out of you entirely and slammed back in. Even through the overstimulation, the wrongness hit you immediately. His cock was too big, too thick, and—
And he was inside of you.
Completely inside of you.
You forced yourself to open your eyes, letting your head fall forward limply. The shock was minimal, but still devastating – both of Suguru’s cocks buried inside of you to their pitch-black bases, their outlines just barely visible against the plush flesh of your lower stomach. “You—You promised you wouldn’t—”
His face was buried in the dip of your shoulder, his lips parted as panted against you. You felt his teeth catch on your skin before sinking into you, had time to process the pure heat of his venom seeping into your veins. Instantly, anything you might’ve said died on your tongue, your mind going utterly, entirely blank save for a single thought: mate.
Your mouth fell open, your thighs spreading that much farther. Suguru pressed a lingering, open-mouthed kiss into the injection site, then pulled away, grinning wildly. “A few drops, and you’ll want everything I have to give you,” he muttered. “That’s better, isn’t it, bunny?”
Much better. You could feel something swelling at the base of his cock, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge anything other than the utter bliss as a small, round shape was milked up the length of his cock and emptied into your core. Kits, you thought, and did your best to settle onto his twin cocks, to hold still as another egg was forced through your tight pussy. You stopped trying to count after the fourth – giving in completely to the shuddering, splintering euphoria every new member of your little family brought you. By the time the final egg was safe and snug inside of you, you were limp, twitching, and so full, it was hard to imagine ever feeling empty again.
As the last aftershocks started to fade, Suguru sucked in a stilted gasp and pulled you flush against his chest. You felt his second cock twitch once, then twice inside of you before something warm and thick flooded into your pussy. You whined miserably as he pulled out of you, but he didn’t stay gone for very long. Your pliable body was turned around in his arms, his cocks slid back into your leaking cunt as he carefully lowered himself onto the floor of his nest – your body laid on top of his. You strung your arms around his neck and pressed yourself against his chest, closing your eyes and giving in to your well-earned exhaustion.
You lasted just long enough to hear him mutter something about mates and clutches before your consciousness faded entirely and your mind went mercifully, blissfully silent.
~
Hours later, you woke up to the sound of a low, long whistle. “Really did a number on the poor thing, huh, Suguru?”
It took you a second to blink your eyes open, to raise your head and glance toward the man standing at the top of the ladder that led to Suguru’s nest, and another to recognize him as Suguru’s owner. His white hair was in a state of disarray, his eyes hidden behind circles of tinted glass, and for some reason, he was looking at you. You shrunk further into Suguru, but he only laughed – the noise loud and piercing to your foggy senses.
Suguru’s cocks were no longer inside of you, the flushed tips just barely visible at the base of his slit. You were still on his chest, and his arms were wrapped around your waist, his hold loose but possessive. There was a small bump over your lower stomach, and you weren’t sure whether to grimace or beam at the feeling of Suguru’s eggs shifting inside of you with every little movement. He was already awake – had been for some time, judging by the unimpressed scowl pressed into his lips. Something sharp and icy lodged itself into your chest, but his glare was directed towards his owner, not you, and the very tip of his tail curled around your ankle protectively as his owner stepped into his nest.
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to walk into a serpent’s den?”
“I don’t think it counts if I own the den.” He straddled the bulk of Suguru’s tail, then gestured to you. “Turn the pretty baby around. I wanna see the damage.”
You shook your head vehemently, clinging to Suguru’s neck, but his own response was an exasperated sigh, a fleeting hiss to your cheek as he flipped you over; leaving you slayed across his chest and exposed to his owner’s prying gaze. “Five minutes,” he said, as his owner shrugged the waistband of his pants down just far enough to free his cock, already half-hard, already enough to send a bolt of pure dread from your heart to the pit of your stomach. “I don’t want your scent on my mate.”
You opened your mouth, ready to whine that you were sore, that you were tired, that you didn’t want anyone but Suguru and your kits inside of you, but the words withered into nothing on your tongue as his owner eased himself into your dripping pussy, as Suguru caught you by the chin and pulled you into a shallow, lingering kiss – the points of his fangs just barely scraping over your bottom lip. Looking back on it, it had been silly to ever worry that he’d eat you.
You should’ve been worried that he wouldn’t.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#hybrid au#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen imagines#yandere jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#yandere jjk#jjk imagines#yandere geto suguru#geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#yanderecore#yancore
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the problem is that being single is seen as the consolidation prize, and not the natural neutral state of being-a-person. at the end of the movie or the book or the poetry, there is a person waiting for you at the altar, and they love you. if the play is a comedy, everyone gets married. the metaphor is about how you are not-whole. the metaphor is about how everyone is going to be happily-ever-after. the metaphor is that romantic love is the most important resource on the planet, not just all-love. all-love is not a thing, that is a disappointment. the treasure is not the friends we made along the way. the treasure is the girl you landed.
the metaphor is that you cannot be alone, that means you are broken. are you getting over someone? that is acceptable, you can be getting over someone, but not for long. you must be single because you would rather not be single. you must be single and looking to not-be-single. you must want to date, eventually.
friendship and community are never seen as being equal-to or even-better than romantic connection. that person is your one! you need to find them. you need to hunt through the sand particles until you can shift out some kind of gem. this is regardless to your own experience of the beach and the sun. you need to be somewhere with someone.
if you are taking this time alone to heal, that is so sad. everyone gives you this little pitying look. the understanding is that you are not actually happier than you were before you were single. it is seen as a sort of pity - oh, you are choosing yourself, making yourself the priority? - that isn't quite right. you must mean that you are making yourself ready for the right person. you are just laying the bed better this time. open up your heart. you'll find them, we promise!
what do you mean you're really-truly genuinely-very happy? you are probably misremembering what it was like to be in a relationship. and besides, once you meet your person, that time will look grey and bland and wasted. your person is the only way for you to see in color. so what if you have taken this time - for the first time in your entire life - to actually-for-real do the fucking work. you can be proud of yourself, sure. but the way we need to know that you got better is that you get a partner. you're healed enough for the next bad part!
people don't choose to be single, they just say they're choosing to be single - they actually mean "nobody wants to date me." it doesn't matter how many people you have gently rejected or how many times you've talked it over carefully in therapy. what matters is that you are single, and by all accounts - that means you are something worth our pity. your successes and life all seem pale in the sunlight. sure, you have done amazing things and finally found your way in life. what matters is that there wasn't a person in the room with you while you did it.
you want to tell them - that's the whole thing. i didn't know how to be alone in the room. i didn't know how to handle the silence. every moment was so sharp, and i kept choosing the wrong way to close the door. i have spent my entire life in the empty well, living in the ricochet of someone else's cruelty. for once i have built myself a ladder. for once everything i taste is all mine, every bite of sunshine and laughter. i have learned how to sleep out in the open with my memories. recently, they have started to purr.
your father rolls his eyes. listen. this isn't about you. i just want a grandchild in my future.
#writeblr#i actually didn't want a girlfriend before nat#and my dad recently said to me - raquel. i don't approve of the promiscuity#1. i am 30.#2. i had casually dated about 4 people over 18 months.#3. i do believe he was just mad that i get more girls than he ever did#i had to look this 60 yr old deacon in the eye and say. okay so i have a girlfriend first of all im just not tellin yall about her#and secondly.#OKAY???? OLD MAN I DONT EVEN LIVE HERE WHAT ARE U GONNA DO ABOUT IT#briefly considered asking nat if i could pretend we were a one night stand kind of a thing
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Inevitable: 12 Days of Smut #9
Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot
Summary: While on a mission with Sam, John Walker, and Bucky, you're the only person exposed to a sex pollen. Bucky sure as hell isn't going to let anyone else take care of you.
Warnings: profanity, dubcon (sex pollen), unprotected sex, slight size kink, slight exhibitionism, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Word Count: 2.9k
A/N: I wrote this fic in an hour and I think it shows lmao. Hopefully tomorrow I can use another one of @mashedpotatooooos inspiring requests, because she sent me one I've been thinking about for days now.
You want someone to blame. You want someone to yell at, someone that you can rightfully take all of your anger out on. You want to be able to point your finger and stomp your feet like a child all because this is someone else’s fault. Who do you take your anger out on when an entire organization is to blame? No one. Instead, you do exactly what you’re doing now, which is sitting on the dirty floor with your knees pulled up to your chest as you try to come up with a plan. You’re the only one that was exposed, the only one that’s about to go through physiological and psychological hell. Sam and John Walker were still securing the perimeter of the compound when you stupidly ran your fingertip along the fine powdery substance that was sprinkled along the walls and floor of the small holding cell. It was even more stupid of you to rub the powder together between your thumb and forefinger before sniffing it for any trace of a scent. As soon as you inhaled the microscopic particles, you let out a cough, your throat immediately feeling scratchy. Bucky was behind you in an instant, grabbing you by the elbow and tugging you away from the holding cell. When his eyes fell to your hand and he saw the white powder along your fingertips, he knew you’d gotten yourself into some serious shit. Before he even had a chance to alert Sam and Walker via comms, you were placing your clean hand on his chest and shoving him away from you hard. He stumbled backward two steps, but kept his eyes trained on your face. Your cheeks were pink, which he assumed was from the small coughing fit you’d just had, but having no idea what you were exposed to, it could’ve been from whatever drug it was that HYDRA left all over the surface of that holding cell. How could you have been so reckless?
You sit with your head resting on your knees and your eyes squeezed shut, trying to drown out the incessant voice of John Walker. He’s been going on and on for over a minute now about what he thinks is the best way to handle the little predicament you’ve found yourselves in.
“We don’t even know what she was exposed to, Sam. You and Bucky should stay here and finish the mission, I’ll take her back to the quinjet and see if we can figure this out. There has to be some sort of testing equipment or something there.” Of course, Walker wants to leave with you. Bucky catches himself clenching his right fist, while his left hand rests dangerously close to where his knife is sheathed along the side of his tactical pants. Bucky isn’t letting Walker do shit with you.
“I’m not going anywhere.” You say defiantly, finally picking your head up and looking at the three men who are maintaining their distance from you. You threatened to lock yourself in the contaminated holding cell if they didn’t stay at least ten feet away from you, so that’s about how far they all are from you now. “He’s right, we don’t know what I was exposed to, but I’m not leaving this building until we find out what it was.” It’s the smartest thing you can do. For all you know, it could be some sort of biological warfare shit and you’re not about to go down in history as patient X. You’re staying put.
---
It’s less than fifteen minutes later when the symptoms have begun to set in and you’re actually considering locking yourself in the holding cell. It started out almost unnoticeable, with your heart rate steadily increasing and your body temperature rising to an uncomfortable degree. You chalked it up to being nervous about whatever unknown substance might be coursing through your veins. Soon after, all you wanted was to take your clothes off and soak in an ice bath. This was partially because of the sheer heat your body was radiating from the inside out, but also because you felt some kind of surge of adrenaline making you feel like you could run fifteen miles with ease.
“She isn’t herself, she’s definitely feeling something but she’s not going to let any of us get close enough to look her over.” Sam says to Bruce, who’s currently seated in a SHIELD laboratory, searching through various HYDRA experiment files to figure out what substance you might’ve been exposed to.
“Well, one of you is going to have to try, because without knowing the basics of at least a physical exam, I can’t rule any of these compounds out. It’s a guessing game without more information.”
“I’ll do it. She’ll let me.” Walker’s confidence nearly makes Bucky and Sam both burst out laughing.
“Who the hell do you think you are, man? She isn’t going to let you do shit.” Sam chuckles, looking at Walker out of the corner of his eye. Walker scoffs and shakes his head, clearly disagreeing with Sam.
“C’mon, she can be reasonable.” Walker argues. Of course you can be reasonable, you’re almost always reasonable. But this more than likely isn’t one of the almost-always instances, and if Walker really thinks Bucky is going to let him do any sort of physical exam on you, he’s sorely mistaken.
“I’ll do it. I was right behind her when she was exposed, she knows it’s possible I was exposed too. More possible than either of you having been exposed.” Bucky points out, shooting Walker a death glare before he has a moment to argue. Walker quickly shuts his mouth and remains still in the corridor. The three men stepped out of the small abandoned surveillance room when you started acting like every word they were saying was making your head hurt. Now, Bucky turns around and faces the door, ready to approach you.
“Just look her skin over everywhere you can, look for any rashes, discolorations, new wounds. Try to get a look at her pupils too, I need to know if they’re bigger than usual or smaller, like pinpoints. Anything you notice that’s out of the ordinary, I need to know about it so I can narrow down the type of chemical it might be.” Bruce’s words echo in the concrete corridor as Bucky palms the door handle and pulls it open with a soft creak.
As soon as the door shuts behind Bucky, your eyes meet. He can see how uncomfortable you are, how a few stray strands of your hair are sticking to your forehead, how you’re breathing heavier than normal even though you still sit on the floor. It tugs at something within him and suddenly he wishes he was the one who’d walked into that damn holding cell first. Why the hell did he let you go in first? He should’ve been looking out for you.
“Bruce needs a few questions answered so he can figure out what you were exposed to.” Bucky tries to keep his sentence short and to the point. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you and give you a reason to kick him out, so he’s treading carefully. He’s honestly surprised that you haven’t told him to leave yet. As his eyes roam over your small frame, he can see that you’re miserable. At this point, you’re too miserable to argue with him. You simply nod, agreeing to whatever it is that Bruce wants him to do. Bucky tilts his head over to an empty metal desk pushed up against a side wall, and you quickly understand that he wants you to sit on it so he can get a look at you. You push yourself up off of the floor slowly, knowing you won’t be very steady on your feet. Not only are you beginning to feel lightheaded, but it feels like every nerve ending in your entire body is on fire. Your skin is simultaneously freezing cold while being burning hot, and there’s a sharp, stinging pain somewhere deep in your stomach.
Noticing how unsteady you are, Bucky moves across the room wraps an arm around you, guiding you over to the desk. After helping you sit on top of it, he can’t stop himself from pushing those few stray hairs away from your face and cupping your chin with his right hand. You feel hot to the touch, definitely feverish. Your eyes flutter closed as you focus on the feel of his skin against your chin, but Bucky believes it to be a reaction to whatever pain you’re feeling right now. He notes that your pupils looked much bigger than normal before you closed your eyes. He also notes that your cheeks are flushed, your heart is beating so hard that he can nearly count your pulse rate where the skin lies over your carotid artery in your neck, and you’re keeping one hand on your lower stomach.
“Do you have any spots, anything on your skin?” Bucky’s voice is quiet, but he keeps his hand underneath your chin. It almost feels like you’re leaning into his touch, though he can’t be sure. You finally open your eyes again and look up at him. You’re ready to say something like I don’t fucking know, I’m in full tactical gear, but speaking a sentence that long feels like way too much effort right now. So, instead, you pull your shirt off and drop it on the floor. Bucky averts his gaze instantly, not wanting to be intrusive and look at you with only a bra covering your top half.
“You have to check, Bucky. The lights are killing me.” Your words come out as a meek whisper. Of course the lights are killing you, your pupils are so blown that they’re letting in every tiny bit of light. When the super soldier finally looks back down at you, his jaw clenches as his eyes coast over your bare neck, shoulders, and the central part of your chest. He doesn’t see a single imperfection. He looks further down your torso, past your black sports bra, over the contours of your waist and abdomen. Nothing. Nothing but smooth, perfect skin, slightly glistening with a sheen of sweat. “I think I know what this is.”
“How?” Bucky’s eyes lift to meet your gaze once again, but this time, you look more conflicted than uncomfortable.
“Touch me.” Bucky has a million questions. He wants to know what you think this is, why you want him to touch you. He’s ready to ask every question that’s swirling around his head, and you can see that he sure as hell isn’t about to touch you on his own accord, so you take matters into your own hands. It’s the quickest way you can think of to prove that your assumption is correct. You reach out and take his flesh hand in yours, guiding it up to your face and pressing his palm flat against your cheek. A soft whimper leaves your lips as soon as you feel the warmth from his contact. Bucky stiffens, but doesn’t pull his hand away from you.
“What is it?” He demands to know.
“HYDRA was experimenting with ways to produce more super soldiers without needing great amounts of the original serum. They thought they could get super soldiers to breed, to produce offspring with all of the same strengths and abilities.” It takes a few seconds for Bucky’s mind to wrap around exactly what you’re saying, but as soon as it does, he’s already made a choice. He’ll help you. He’ll do it. He’ll do what he knows needs to be done to give you as much relief as he possibly can. There isn’t another word spoken between the two of you as Bucky steps away from you and crosses the room, turning the lock on the door.
Out in the corridor, Sam and Walker hear the door lock and look at each other with a mix of confusion and concern.
“One of them just locked the door.” Sam says to Bruce. Bruce sighs heavily before taking a long pause. “Bruce, what the hell is this?”
“You’re in a facility where HYDRA scientists would induce super soldier reproduction. I’m guessing Y/n and Bucky have figured that out.”
---
The desk won’t hold the weight of you both, Bucky’s damn sure of that. Which is why he has you lying on your back with your legs dangling off of it as he stands between your legs and unbuckles his tactical pants.
“You don’t have to do this, Bucky. I could—”
“You said it’s the only way, and I’m sure as hell not letting Sam or Walker do it, so I’m doing it.” Bucky snaps, shoving his pants down enough to free his already hardening cock. He’s lucky you’re in such a miserable state right now, otherwise you might’ve sat up and tried to sneak a peek at his dick and noticed how it already stood erect for you. He wasn’t getting off on you being in such a bad situation, but as soon as you told him that you needed someone to do this for you, his cock decided it was going to him. He wraps his fist around the base and strokes forward, toward the tip a couple of times as he watches you shimmy your own pants down your legs. You have them nearly down to your knees when you let out a cry of pain, quickly letting go of the pants and clutching at your stomach. Your eyes are still screwed shut as Bucky finishes pulling your pants down to your ankles and then gets you into the only position he can think of in this moment. He lifts both of your legs up, keeping them together, and rests them over his right shoulder. He’s careful not to even give himself the chance to look between your legs. He won’t do it, not like this. He stares down at your scrunched up face as he moves closer to you and lets the head of his cock slide up and down between your folds, gathering your wetness along his shaft.
“Bucky, please.” You moan out, your back arching off of the desk and eyes opening to look up at him. When the two of you make eye contact, the head of his cock notches into your entrance and he pumps into you slowly. “Fuck, it’s so big.”
Fucking hell. Why did you have to say something like that? Bucky stills when he’s only halfway inside you, feeling how tight you are compared to how thick his length is. He knows it must be hurting you, but you continue to stare up at him, with both pain and pleasure flashing in your eyes.
“Don’t stop, I can take it.” You promise. Bucky’s hands grip your hips and he gives you another inch, watching how your face contorts at the way he’s stretching your entrance.
“Stop saying shit like that.” He warns you through gritted teeth. That’s the moment you realize Bucky might have a bit of a size kink. It’s not at all where your head should be at right now. You should be focused on finding relief and getting this chemical out of your system as fast as possible. But, something within you tells you to keep going.
“But it’s so fucking big.” You moan again, trying to relax as he pushes the rest of his length inside of you. The needy sound that rips through your chest when he bottoms out inside of you echoes in the empty room, and Bucky has no doubt that Sam and Walker both heard it. A dark idea enters his mind as he slowly drags his cock back out of you. John fucking Walker. He’s been after you since day one, that little prick. This could be Bucky’s only chance to show him that he’ll never have you, especially not like this. Like you would possibly give Walker a chance after being fucked by Bucky. Instead of thrusting into you slowly this time, giving you ample time to adjust, Bucky slams into you hard. “Fuck! Bucky, it’s too big, oh my god.” You cry out.
Sam and Walker are frozen in shock as they stand in the corridor, listening to the obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin and you moaning about how big Bucky’s cock is as you take every inch of it. As soon as Bucky let out his first grunt, Sam couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed Walker by the front of his shirt and dragged him out of the building.
“This is fucking bullshit, Sam. This is so unprofessional.” Walker whines, wanting nothing more than to storm back in and rip Bucky off of you.
“Shut the hell up, John. We know you think you’re hot shit, but honestly, she was never going to give you a chance. It was always going to happen this way.”
“What do you mean? You knew this was going to happen?” Walker asks, unable to hide the anger edging his tone.
“I didn’t know it’d be in an abandoned HYDRA lab or within my own earshot, but yeah, everyone knew they were going to fuck eventually.”
Not only did the two of you fuck, but Bucky made sure to spill every drop of his cum so deep inside of you that it’d be dripping out into your tactical pants for the rest of the mission.
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#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#mcu#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x you#marvel#the winter soldier#winter soldier#12 days of smut
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I thought you'd be different | James Potter
Pairing: James Potter x Slytherin!Fem!Reader
Word Count: 4.6k
Summary: A cinderella story (maybe a little romeo and juliet while we're at it) but Hogwarts - Enemies-ish to lovers. You find an enchanted parchment through wich you anonymously talk to a stranger (James). When you meet him at the Yule ball, he is not who you expected, but you give him a chance. When you realise that was clearly a mistake, you flee cinderella style.
Probably part one of two again.
Notes: Not proofread, grammar mistakes. Discrimination issues, themes of bullying. Regulus is our friend. James is an idiot, but we knew that already. Sirius sucks.
Masterlist. Part two. Part three
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You could still remember the moment vividly, as if it was engraved in your memory. That moment when the sorting hat placed you in Slytherin instead of Gryffindor like your two older sisters had been sorted. You could still see the look of surprise, concern, horror and then eventually disgust, every time you close your eyes.
“Now we finally know your true colors,” is what your sister Alyssa had hissed coldly at you. You had pleadingly looked at your other sister, but Marla had supported her twin sister, disregarding the confused and scared look in your eleven-year-old eyes.
“Don’t talk to us, don’t look at us and don’t mention us at all,” she sneered down at you and for a moment you wondered how she hadn’t been the one to be sorted into Slytherin instead. But you had cast your eyes down and agreed.
But years passed and you had become the very stereotype of a Slytherin student, completely leaning into the cold, distant, quiet but calculating persona that your sisters had created for you. Might as well, you figured after your parent’s dismay at the revelation of your house.
You were making your way down the corridor, long strides as you passed your sisters while looking them straight in the eye. They grimaced at the sight of you, but without their entire group of classmates, they didn’t dare make any comments. A feeling of victory erupted inside of you, and you couldn’t help the small smirk that crept up your face.
“What poor soul suffered for you to look so satisfied?” You turned your head to look at the person who called out to you. James Potter and Sirius Black were both leaning against a statue in the open yard. “Did you get rid of Regulus or something?” Sirius taunted. “Finally had enough of him following you around, did you L/N?”
“Go die in a ditch, Sirius,” you retorted with an eye roll, but seemed unphased.
“Why so much hostility,” James unpleasantly remarked, and you halted in your step. “10 points from Gryffindor for loitering,” you pettily decided.
“If you have nothing to do, other than insulting students, I would love to recommend you to Professor McGonagall for detention. Heard she was still looking for the person who made all the pumpkins explode last week during Halloween, and you guys are terrible at getting rid of the evidence.” With a last glance up and down, you continued your way towards the room of requirement.
When you entered the sober room with a sigh, you noticed the small scrolled up piece of parchment in the middle of the room. You frowned. This was your space. The room didn’t open this space for anyone else, you made it specifically as a safe haven.
You cautiously approached the parchment and rolled it open to reveal nothing. It was completely blank. You shrugged. If the room left this here, it was meant for you, and so you took a seat and started drawing on it.
James sat in an empty room, his invisibility cloak hiding him from plain sight as he pulled the now folded paper from his back pocket. He inspected it closely, almost pressing the paper to his glasses in a curious manner. He had gone to the Room of Requirements earlier that day and found a piece of paper floating in the air.
James unfolded the paper, and his eyebrows flew up. Lines were appearing on the paper by itself, and a beautiful portrait of a weeping willow with a girl, crying on a bench under the tree appeared.
James fumbled to find his quill and ink. Then he started to write something on it, in a handwriting that he only ever used for written exams. Credits to Professor McGonagall, who had announced that she would not be grading anything she couldn’t read. And she had looked over her glasses at him while she said it.
It’s beautiful.
You dropped the parchment at the words that formed right under your drawing. You traced it with your fingers. Then you decided to write back.
Thank you, I’ve been dreaming about this for the past two days.
You frowned at yourself, unsure why you would disclose such information, but figured no one would be able to trace this back to you anyway.
James blinked at the response he got, mouth open in surprise. He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised. It must simply be a spell of some sort after all. He stared at the sad drawing and the sentence, and then he made up his mind, writing back.
It must be lonely for that girl to cry by herself under the weeping willow.
Your eyes followed the words that formed in a trance.
If she ever feels lonely again, she can always pour her heart out on this parchment. I’ll be the mighty guardian wizard that will make all her worries magically disappear.
A grateful smile made its way up your face and when you scribbled back a response, James couldn’t help but smile as well.
Maybe she will.
You doodled a wizard sitting on the bench next to the crying girl, a consoling hand stretched out.
That's how you became James’ best kept secret. He learned that you were indeed a student at Hogwarts, but that you felt lonely. That you enjoyed butterbeer, but never got to enjoy it on a Hogsmeade outing with friends, because you rarely had any. He learned that you felt inferior to your siblings and a disappointment to your parents. He noticed how you would draw a circle as the dot on your ‘i’ and learned, when he asked, that you did that because you had once seen Professor McGonagall do that when you were in your first year, and had practiced mimicking her handwriting, should it ever come in handy.
In return, he had told you that he felt pressured by the reputation that he had to maintain. He loved Quidditch and absolutely despised Ancient Runes, to which you had replied, “who doesn’t?”. He told you that he had illegally learned to become an Animagus, a stag, and that he wasn’t sure yet what the future would hold for him. He even revealed to you that he desperately wants to protect his friends and sometimes had nightmares, which usually resulted in a sneak around the castle at midnight. When you had asked him if he’d ever been caught, he responded with, “never”, and had explained to you that he had an invisibility cloak.
Two months passed and before you knew it, you were explaining Transfiguration through the enchanted parchment. You did conclude from this that your pen pal was most likely in a year or two higher than yourself but decided not to comment on it. James on the other hand, was under the assumption that you must be from his year, as you managed to help him study for his exams.
But now, it was almost 12 o’clock midnight, and James chewed his lip while he looked at the parchment. He hesitated for a moment. Then he decided to ask you the one question he had been yearning to know the answer to.
Who are you?
You looked at the paper sadly, and sighed.
You’d be disappointed.
I understand if you don’t want to reveal yourself. But know that I could never be disappointed by you, Willow.
James sighed when you didn’t answer anymore. He waved away the light that emitted from the tip of his wand and took his glasses off. He went to put the parchment under his pillow as usual, when he saw the scribbling movement that he’d gotten so accustomed to.
He scrambled to grab his wand to shed light on the paper but accidentally nudged them off the nightstand and onto the floor, where it rolled under his bed. James’ eyes flickered back to the paper in his hand, and he managed to catch the first letter of your name as it was written in capital letters.
But your cursive handwriting, the dark and lack of glasses made it impossible to read the rest of your name. When he finally reached his wand and put on his glasses, he heard the clock strike twelve and he cursed as he grasped the parchment tightly, hurried ‘lumos’ and saw that the parchment had reset itself to a blank page again, just as every night at 12 o’clock at midnight.
Wait, please! I didn’t catch it before it erased itself. Please write it again?
You let out a sigh in relief after you had internally bashed your head against a wall.
No, it was stupid of me. I’m glad you didn’t see it.
You leaned back into your armchair with a racing heart. You couldn’t believe you had done that.
“Regulus,” you acknowledged as you pulled the chair back to sit next to him in the library. “Y/N,” Regulus quietly responded without looking up from his book, and if you didn’t know any better, his straight face would indicate annoyance. Luckily, you did know better.
“You smile any brighter, the sorting hat will transfer you to Hufflepuff, you know,” you teased him.
His face distorted in a grimace and without missing a beat, he replied, “do kill me before such a thing occurs.” You shook your head and finally sat down. Then you pursed your lips in thought.
“You know how I’ve been working all summer to earn galleons?”
“No.”
“Well I did.”
“So it seems.”
“Anyway, I rented a small flat,” you blurted out. Regulus finally looked up at you, surprise almost evident on his face. Then again, you didn’t have the most amazing home situation either. You often opted to stay behind at Hogwarts for the holidays. It is how you two had befriended each other, especially ever since Sirius left him to his own devices at home. Parents, it was a trauma bonding thing.
“Congratulations,” he nodded, his voice trailed off as he tried to see how this would concern him.
“So I thought you might want to stay with me over the Christmas holidays? Your mother doesn’t hate me, so I thought it might be possible. Gives you a chance to get out once in a while.” You tentatively brought up the sensitive subject.
“And what makes you think living with you will be any more bearable than living in my own mansion?” Regulus snarkily remarked.
You squinted your eyes at him in a scowl. “A simple ‘no’ would suffice don’t you think?”
“Do I have to pay rent?”
“Depends on whether or not the answer impacts your decision.”
“So not then.”
You huffed.
“Fine, I suppose I could join you in your small flat.”
“Merlin, don’t go doing me any favors Reg, I wouldn’t want to owe you.”
Regulus shook his head in amusement.
Satisfied with your rather successful attempt to invite him over, you got up. The chair you sat on screeched loudly as it was being pushed back. You could feel the librarian’s furious eyes on your back and rolled your eyes at her as you made your way to the door. “Alright, alright, I’m leaving,” you waved your hand in the air and exited the room.
You made it approximately two steps when you spotted your sisters again. “Of course you would cause a disturbance in the library,” Marla spat at you. You raised your eyebrows but remained unimpressed.
“I see you’ve got your buddies to back you up now?” you commented and tilted your chin slightly upwards. Your eyes flickered to your other sister, their closest friends, and the marauders.
For a moment, you considered walking away, but there was just something about that twitching lip of your sister that had you irked.
You stepped forward, narrowing the gap between you and your sister. You leaned in slightly and then, “Boo.”
It took your other sister, Alyssa about one second to have her wand pulled out and pointed at your throat.
James watched the interaction with a small frown on his face. He didn’t really speak with the fellow Gryffindor twins, but their friends and Lily were friends, so the marauders had joined them on their way towards the courtyard.
His mind flickered to a conversation he had had with ‘Willow’ about her sisters, and he wondered if you felt the same sadness and inferiority as his pen pal. And with that in mind, he pulled Alyssa back by her robe with one harm, the other lowering her raised wand.
“Let’s not,” he shrugged, when she raised her brows in question at him.
“She clearly threatened my sister,” Alyssa defended.
You scoffed at that. “I said ‘boo’. That’s hardly a threat,” you rolled your eyes and glanced at James who tried to offer you something that resembled a smile.
Was he mocking you? “Fancy yourself a hero, don’t you, Potter.”
“Hey, I was just trying to help,” he raised his hands in defense.
“Cause you’re such a good soul,” you sarcastically remarked.
“Yeah, actually. At least better than you. That hostility is so uncalled for,” Sirius mumbled under his breath, and you shot him a glare. “Right, better than me. Let me ask the two-dozen tormented Slytherin students you’ve bullied this past year. Bet Snape will buy your self-proclaimed ‘kindness’.”
You were already walking away when Sirius opened his mouth to call something out to you, but James kicked his shins in attempt to shut him up. Your words resonated in his mind.
Maybe he was a twat.
Am I a twat?
What the bloody hell are you on about?
Someone called me a twat today. Now that wasn’t necessarily true, but the implications were there.
Did you deserve it?
Sort of.
Sort of?
I mean, I am only an asshole to people who are assholes themselves and deserve it. But I guess that makes me an asshole too.
You hesitated for a moment and decided to write your opinion on the matter.
Maybe you being an asshole to people makes them assholes. And then it becomes a vicious circle. Self-fulfilling prophecy and all that bogger.
You reckon?
Wouldn’t have written it down if I didn’t.
On a brighter note, do you have a date for the Yule ball after the exams?
If you’re asking me out, I already promised my friend that we’d go together.
Oh right. But would you save me a dance? Maybe at midnight under the main crystal chandelier?
James bit his lip again in suspense. The Yule ball is a masked ball anyways, if you don’t want to reveal yourself.
Midnight, main crystal chandelier. You decided to leave it at that. Besides. You could enchant the mask a little extra, so you’d be even more unrecognizable. You wondered who would be behind the kind words of the parchment.
It felt strange to you. Really looking forward to something to the point you could feel jitters in your stomach in anticipation. But it was having a certain effect on you that even the younger Black couldn’t help but miss.
Regulus squinted his eyes and moved his jaw in thought. When he had had enough, he pulled you aside.
“Out with it.”
You deflated. You knew that he knew what he was talking about, so you shrugged. “Someone asked me to save a dance next week,” you mumbled.
“And you want to?” Regulus’ tone shifted to an incredulous one.
“I found an enchanted parchment in the room of requirements and it’s connected. I’ve been using it to have conversations with a mystery person.”
It felt great to be able to share this with your friend and you leaned against the wall behind you. “So yeah.” You finished the confession with an awkward hand gesture.
Regulus took a moment to register what you said. And then, as if it was the most normal thing ever, he responded with, “I see. And you have no idea who?”
You let yourself slide down the wall and tiredly put your head on your propped up knees. “Probably a Gryffindor.”
Regulus started laughing. You snapped your head up and scowled at him, not that he was used to anything else from you.
“As long as it’s not a mudbl-“
You kicked his legs and made him lose his balance. You shot him a warning glance. “You know my opinion on that.”
Regulus sighed. You had once confided in him about your home situation, including that time when you had overheard your parents argue when you came home for the first time after having been sorted into Slytherin. Your father had addressed the matter as soon as you walked through the door.
“You’re no daughter of mine.” He had said with disapproval in his voice. It wasn’t meant as a figurative insult. It was a statement. Your father believed that you could simply not biologically be his daughter. The words had you avert your eyes to the floor in shame.
“My entire bloodline has been sorted into Gryffindor.” He had looked at your mother. “Your family does have Slytherins. She’s most likely the result of your affair with that muggle a decade ago. It is possible.” And just like that, he had practically disowned you.
“Okay,” Regulus relented. “We’ll see who it is next week.”
James was nervously looking around, standing partnerless in the middle of the dancefloor. He had long forgone the mask that he had chosen because it prevented him from using his glasses. He looked at the great clock just above the table with drinks and pulled a hand through his hair.
It was time, so where were you? Hopefully you hadn’t chickened out yet because he was absolutely dying to meet you.
There was just something about you. It sparked something in him that he hadn’t felt since Lily. He’d look forward to your messages all the time. Every morning, he practically jumped up in anticipation and excitement as he reached under his pillow to read your ‘good morning’ message for the day. A smile would pass his lips each time.
James was ripped from his thoughts when a hand was placed on his shoulder blade. It tapped twice. He stopped breathing for a moment before turning around. And then the breath was knocked out of both of you completely.
For two different reasons.
James stared in awe at you. You wore a white and silver dress, covered in diamonds. A delicate white mask covered the upper part of your face, and he stared intently at your eyes, but somehow, he still couldn’t pinpoint who you were.
He could see all of your features clearly, but as if he was in a dream, he somehow couldn’t piece everything together to identify you. A charm, he realized. He was disappointed but shook it off. If you felt insecure, then he wouldn’t push it.
James’ face broke out in a grin, and he stepped forward. He couldn’t help but reach out to your face. But you took a step back. His hand fell and he frowned at your reaction, suddenly scared. He wasn’t wearing a mask after all. Compared to you, he was completely vulnerable.
Before he could say anything, you cut him to it. “No,” you hoarsely managed. “This was a mistake.” You turned around and escaped from the center of the dancefloor. James chased you.
“Wait, please. I’m sorry!” He called out after you.
You slowed your pace when you reached the corner next to the staircase. Then you shook your head with a sight, and you pinched your nose. James could see your furrowed brows.
“You have nothing to be sorry about. But my intention wasn’t to dance with James Potter. It was a mistake. Sorry for wasting your time.”
James shook his head in his turn. “Don’t say that,” his eyes pleaded. “So you know who I am. Am I..” He hesitated. “Am I that bad? I don’t know if you’ve heard any rumors about me, or what made you have a bad impression of me, but I’m the one you’ve been talking to for the past months.” He looked at you desperately. “Give me a chance, please. I only ask for a dance.”
Your eyes flickered over his sad face. You knew James from all the pranks that he did, mostly committed towards your house. You knew him from the banters you had with him, and from crying students that you undid hexes for. You knew him from pushing him out of the way as he purposely blocked your path to throw insults at you.
But you also knew the boy from the enchanted paper. The one who listened to all your worries. Who offered advice and indulged into your hopes and dreams for the future. You knew the boy who confided in you all his deepest secrets and own insecurities. Who made your day and cheered you up with his jokes and positivity.
“I can give you a dance,” you caved, and you offered him your hand, which he scrambled to hold.
James was a fairly decent dance partner, you soon discovered as he guided you with grace. “So I suppose you dance often?”
“I just practiced a lot,” he sheepishly admitted. “I had to impress you somehow, you know. Someone like you had to be crazy out of my league after all.”
Your lips twitched. “I think you’ve got it all backwards, Potter.”
“You know you can call me James, right?”
“Well, James,” you enunciated his name. It felt weird on your tongue. You had only ever spoken his last name in contempt. “I’m not very liked by more than half the students of this castle.” You motioned towards your mask. “Hence the enchantment,” you added halfheartedly.
“You don’t have to tell me who you are,” James immediately assured you, and you did relax at his words. “I’m just really happy that you’re real.”
You let out a laugh. “Why would I not be real?”
“I don’t know,” James whined. “Maybe I was just talking to really sentient paper or something?”
His answer only made you laugh more. James’ grin only spread wider.
“Whoever you are, I wouldn’t judge you,” James added quietly. You watched him silently as you swayed around the room.
“That’d be a first,” you joked sadly, remembering your own family.
“What can I say, I’m just different,” James cheekily winked and then twirled you around.
“We’ll see about that, James. You have the rest of the night to convince me.”
The dance ended and you curtsied to each other, out of breath. “But you’ll have to excuse me while I go find a bench because my feet are killing me. These heels are no joke,” you groaned in pain and sort of started to limp your way back.
James quickly came to support you and held your waist as he escorted you back to the side of the room. When you discovered that there were not in fact any benches, you sat down on the first few steps of the staircase. He raised his eyebrows when you kicked off your heels and saw that the entire slipper was made of glass.
“I transfigured those shoes myself, you know,” you proudly stated. James looked at it in disbelief. “This can carry a human weight?”
“Yeah, it took a lot of different enchantments and attempts,” you admitted.
James’ disbelief changed to awe. He took a seat next to you and you two started chatting about random things. You looked at James’ profile as he talked about Quidditch and felt soft towards him. Maybe he really wasn’t so bad after all.
The two of you were deep into a conversation when you were interrupted .
“Who is this, Prongs?” Sirius curiously stepped forward and shook your hand. You couldn’t help but grimace at him.
You politely nodded and explained the situation, but even though you engaged into a civil, nonchalant conversation, you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable at the presence of James’ friends.
“Anyways,” Sirius leans in towards James. “Did you see Snape over there?” He nodded his head towards Snape, and you squinted your eyes at the boy in front of you.
“You’re not thinking of doing anything to him, are you,” you sharply asked. Both James and Sirius were taken aback by your new tone.
“Nothing harmful,” Sirius laughed, but it faded when you simply raised your eyebrows at him. Sirius looked towards James for help. James hesitated. He had been reluctant to indulge Sirius’ ideas ever since his conversation with you about being a twat. But Sirius was his friend.
“We’re just having a bit of fun,” James tried to explain. “We’re just joking around, besides, he’s in Slytherin, so definitely a blood supremacist.” Your face fell at his words.
You watched his features contort in disgust and suddenly you were eleven again, and all you could see was your sisters disgusted face.
By the time you had snapped out of it, Sirius was already making his way towards Snape. James had gotten up and his head flickered between you and his friend.
You got up as well.
“I really thought you’d be different, James.” You scoffed to yourself. “You really had me convinced there for a moment. But I understand that you’re really just a bully after all, blinded by prejudice. You really are a twat.”
James’ heart dropped at hearing you say those words. He felt ashamed and shook his head pleadingly as he searched for words. But the thing is, you couldn’t care less, because you were hurt too. So you turned around and fled up the stairs as fast as you could, just in case he would come after you.
“Hey Prongs, you coming or not?” Sirius called out. James looked back at Sirius as he contemplated his next move. He mouthed ‘no’, and then tried to run after you. But by the time he reached the hallway that you had disappeared to, you were nowhere in sight.
In denial, James ran towards the moving staircases and looked up, in hopes to find you there.
Had he looked down, maybe he would have caught the last shimmer of reflection of the diamonds on your dress.
James refused to give up, however and he started to knock on the paintings, hoping that they could tell him where you went. He just had to apologize.
A symphony of protests and yelling echoed within the hall. “Quiet you!” “Have you no respect for the sleeping?” “I will complain to Filch about this, young man!” “Leave us alone!”
When the voices resided, most portraits were empty, their contents having escaped elsewhere.
Defeated, James groaned and hit his head with his fists. “You stupid git!” he yelled out in frustration at himself. James slouched down to sit on the stairs. Then he reached for the parchment and a pen in the inner pocket of his jacket and started scrambling something down.
“Please answer,” he whispered. He almost had to laugh at how pathetic he must look.
You sat on your bed after having made your way to the Slytherin dorms.
I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know why I said that. I’m stupid and I ruined everything. Please let me make it up to you. I enjoy being with you, I don’t want you to think of me like this.
Like I said before, this was clearly a mistake.
James read your words over and over again and he buried his face in his hands in shame. He stayed there for a long while and by the time he returned to the room, the party was over, and people had started returning to bed. On the left side of the staircase were your enchanted glass slippers precisely where you’d kicked the off and left them.
Preview of part two
Part two
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➳ my soul searches
--͙[naoya zenin x female! reader]-͙-
╰┈➤ word count; 6512
╰┈➤ rundown; you might be ignorant about anything concerning naoya zenin but somehow he knows everything about you.
╰┈➤ caution; mean! naoya, DUBIOUS CONSENT, virginity loss (mentions of blood), dacryphilia, unprotected sex, creampie, no prep, choking, use of the words slut, whore, bitch (degradation), MISOGYNISTIC ideologies mentioned, manhandling, 1 thigh smack, cum eating, cunnilingus, fellatio (head pushing & rough), belly bulge, throat bulge, size kink, mentions of fingering, hair is referred to as 'cascading' on one occasion. sex on a futon (just so it won't be confusing).
if there are any more warnings i should add please let me know. not proof read!
naoya is awful.
he is a horrible man.
everyone knows it.
whether it be due to the countless stories everyone gossips about or witnessing firsthand the vicious things he does.
you were privy to outrageous hearsay spreading but you did not care enough to understand.
as far as you know, he is a powerful man.
and in your clan, you bow down to powerful men.
you have been fed lies that you do not have much to offer.
women were responsible for wifely duties and child bearing.
it is all you learned your entire life.
you are surprised when there is news of a member of the zenin clan's impending visitation. the people within your district make countless preparations and take any precaution necessary to ensure they meet naoya's standard. the last thing they want is to face his acrimony.
there are rumours of a potential alliance and it seems exceedingly promising to be closely associated with such a powerful family.
the day of his arrival, everything looks auspicious. you are shocked at the innumerable women adorned in luxurious clothing and decked in lavish jewellery.
you certainly do not understand all the fuss about him. you swore everyone hated him.
the welcome is extravagant and curiosity gets the best of you because you find yourself tip toeing to catch sight of him.
he is definitely not what you expected. he is young, his expression is all too smug. you never had the opportunity to see him before but he is gorgeous. in every sense of the word.
he is the definition of it.
sharp narrow eyes were lined, push pink lips with a barely visible cupid's bow and a straight nose although the tip was slightly upturned. his brows were thin and straight. if anyone looked for long enough and he smiled you could see the indents of dimples. he was truly pretty.
naoya tells the head of your clan that an alliance will only be formed provided he receives something. that whatever he wishes must be granted to him for congruity in return.
somehow, someway he pinpoints you in a crowd of too many people.
you were astonished when his stony eyes found yours. you try to tell yourself, you are not the one. it must be someone else. it has to be! you are proven wrong when your mother grips your arm and drags you up to him.
she bows, her hand roughly shoving your head down while you fidget. his stare is heavy, it makes you want to hide away. your parents practically offer you to him on a silver platter.
your eyes look everywhere but at him while he requests a room. unabashedly he speaks for everyone to witness.
his fingers find your chin, tipping your head back to look over your face. he towers over you. "dress her up." his voice is raspy and deep. he speaks to your mother though he does not spare her a glance.
you are speechless, you can only imagine what it means. an uncontrollable amount of thoughts pile into your head as your mother takes you away.
virginity means everything to a young girl like you. you need to be one to get married. it is your clan's way of life so why do your parents not care? your mother dresses you in the finest silk, something they could never afford before. she knots your hair in a bun and it hurts when she pulls at the strands.
decorative pins are stuck into your hair, some nicking your scalp. she drapes a heavy chain around your neck and squeezes your hand as she forces bracelets onto your wrists.
you look just like every other woman that dolled up for naoya zenin in anticipation of his attention.
you realise your parents do not care for your dignity as they usher you into an intricately decorated room.
they crave the validation of everyone else more than they care about you. you always knew that but you never thought they would go to this extent.
"be good and listen to everything he says." your mom commands. she shoves you to your knees on the thick layers of satin.
"this is for everyone's betterment." your father adds like it would make any of this right. you have no choice in the matter.
they were giving you up for naoya to do whatever he pleased because they were greedy for admiration.
you worry what it meant for you afterwards. you worry what people would think once you left these four walls.
the door slams shut upon their exit, you nervously shift. you wonder if you could run away. the weight of the jewellery feels uncomfortable, the clothes are so thick you swear you are sweating. they seem impossible to do anything in.
it feels like an eternity when naoya enters. his broad back faces you as he closes the door. his presence is intimidating, his aura is immense.
you swallow hard.
you are only to speak when spoken to.
yet you want to ask what took him so long.
why did you chose me?
what are you going to do to me?
you cannot question him. that is not your place.
you are sitting, hands anxiously twitching where they rest on your thighs. your eyes drop to the floor as he faces you.
he draws closer, your breathing stops as he circles you. he does it slowly, intently like he wants to memorise you from every angle.
you feel like prey, you are awaiting your predator to strike. there is absolutely no escape. his gaze sears into your being.
in a way he is scary. "strip." his deep voice instructs. your body tenses, breathing more laboured. you are unmoving as he steps closer. he cups your head, it is softer than you expected. he tilts you back to look at him, you are made aware of his bulge right in front of your face.
it is when he grips your hair, disheveling your bun that you realise it is all pretence. you shriek as he forcefully lifts you to your knees. the way you reach for his hand is futile because you cannot stop him no matter how hard you try.
"don't make me speak twice, y/n." you wonder how he knew your name. you were no one. you were not anyone important to this clan or world. "now take your fucking clothes off before i do it myself."
he shoves you back, you just barely brace yourself. his nimble fingers reach for the laces on his robe as he undoes them with ease. tears prick your eyes, you shakily tug at your bracelets. your movements are frantic enough to send them scattered across the floor. you rip the necklace from your throat, it stings where it nicks your skin.
your hands endlessly tremble when you pull off the layers of heavy fabric draped on you. you are too busy removing your clothing to see that he is already bare.
once you are rid of anything that preserves your modesty, you fold your arms to hide your body. a man has never seen you like this and you never thought the first time would be under this circumstance.
naoya's eyes trail over you, he is already hard. it is borderline painful. he was hard from simply thinking about you obediently waiting for him.
you feel his presence behind you, he lowers himself to his knees. his hands reach for your shoulders first. they are large and rough, they elicit goosebumps across your skin as he trails them down to caress your arms.
he pulls you into him, the hardness of his chest meeting your back. his arms surround your body and you tense at the feeling of his heated cock brushing your skin. his dexterous fingers remove the pins from your hair, he undoes the bun to allow the strands to cascade down your back. he brushes it over your shoulder, pressing a kiss to your nape.
you are shocked by the softness of them. he trails more kisses down the upper part of your spine. it is mind muddling.
"i can tell you haven't fucked before." you jolt at the sound of his gruff voice. his warm breath meets your skin and you shiver. his forearm comes around your front to keep you flush against him.
"spread your legs, let me see your cunt." he speaks without any shame. you hesitate and his displeasure is evident because his palm connects with the flesh of your thigh so hard that you shriek. your skin stings.
you have no choice but to open your legs for him. he slips his hands between them, his wide palm cupping your cunt.
you cannot breathe. it is all so overwhelming. you notice the evident veins on his lower arm as his hand covers your sex completely. it dawns on you that you have never had this intimacy before. you have never even touched where he would be.
he clicks his tongue, his presence makes you anxious. everything he does makes you tense.
he grimaces, you are not wet. not in the slightest.
naoya removes his hand to spit into his fingers, the fluid is pressed to your clit as he strokes it. he does not like the way you bite down on your lip to muffle your sounds. he hates it.
he rolls the bundle of nerves, pinching it before he slowly trails his fingers down your slit. the tip of his finger prods your entrance, gliding along it though he does not enter.
your smaller hands grip his forearm and for some reason it makes him hug your body tighter.
you breathe shakily in anticipation of his next move. it is a foreign feeling to be caressed but you can hardly complain. it is the furthest thing from unpleasant. it annoys you how good it feels.
"i'm shoving my cock in here." he huffs. the length of his finger coaxing through your lips has you writhing.
"going to stick my dick in this little hole and make you my bitch." his words are vulgar. the obscenity of his remarks have you furrowing your brows.
"it sounds good, right? having your pussy filled to the brim. i'll even fuck my cum into you." his jaw presses into your temple and you unsurely blink. he is so big, you feel like you are tucked into him.
he pinches your clit and you choose to focus on that rather than what he is saying. it feels good, enough to make you squirm. each time he does it, your cunt leaks with liquid. his entire palm strokes up and down, smearing sticky liquid over your cunt.
"naoya." you mewl. he has you spread open on his lap as he strokes your dripping pussy. he knows one thing for certain, your pretty voice forming his name is the greatest thing he has ever heard. he loves the sounds you make because of him.
you are so wet now, you are drenched and leaking. the sticky liquid trails out of your slit endlessly. his fingers steadily collect it and your lips part when he pulls away. your eyes follow his hand as he brings the sodden liquid digits near his mouth.
it is dirty. it is gross, it must be. somehow, you find yourself entranced. his tongue slips out to lave over his drenched palm.
"so fucking messy." he grits his teeth, he tilts his head to you. his wet hand grips your jaw, "you always taste so good." he presses his mouths to yours.
you can taste yourself on his lips and tongue as he aggressively kisses you. despite your inexperience you try to replicate him.
his expression looks irritated as he wetly separates from you. he forces you onto your back, leaning over you. his eyes glimpse at your cunt and they trail up your body.
you are on display for his prying eyes. he gropes your breasts, kissing and licking down your sternum. you are delirious as he sucks on your skin. he kisses all the way up to your jaw before he covers your mouth with his.
he licks into your mouth until you are a breathless mess.
"i'm not prepping you. m'not." he squeezes your jaw. "the first thing i'm stuffing in your pussy is my cock and it's gonna hurt. it'll hurt a lot but you deserve it." he airily speaks, his eyes dark.
you stare in confusion, panic sets in your chest. what wrong did you do? you wonder what warranted having your virginity stripped with no compassion.
you were more than aware he did not care for you.
as far as you know, you are suppose to pride yourself in your virginity. you were to save it for your husband and no one else. the man between your legs is a stranger, the man telling you such nasty things is nothing to you.
you swallow hard as you stare at his intimidating size. the head of his cock is purplish and dripping pre cum. his shaft is thick and it seems to go on forever. you wonder how it is suppose to fit inside you.
naoya grasps his aching cock to tap the head on your clit. you try to move away, you really do but he is so strong. he is completely unmoving. he coats his tip in your slick before pressing into your hole.
despite how tight you are, despite how big and thick he is. you shove at his abdomen, his abs flexing under your palms. "naoya please." tears stream down your cheeks but he relents. he cups your thighs to bring them over his and spread you open.
his rough fingers find your perked clit, rubbing it in aggressive circles. you hate to admit it but it feels too good. your hands clamp down on your mouth to mute the moans escaping you.
you gush on him with no fanfare. this entire circumstance makes you feel like an easy slut. he presses more into you, reaching the ridge where his cock and shaft meet. your legs jolt the further his girth fills you.
your insides squeeze and clamp down trying to deny his intrusion, you make naoya crazy. "fucking stop." he hisses. you are like a vice around his pulsing cock.
he says what you should be saying. you should be telling him to stop but you do not. you should be screaming and crying, telling him to get off of you but that is the last thing in your head.
it feels good. more of him is pressed into you and your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. it is an unfamiliar feeling but the pressure in your abdomen is more pleasurable than painful. you find yourself adjusting, you are still so tight that naoya loses his mind.
he presses down on your clit an inch accompanying the motion and you shriek at the feeling. he continually rocks his hips, slowly coaxing over your bundle of nerves. your hands find purchase in the sheets, panting while you try to gather your bearings.
the stimulation has you fidgeting, it has you moaning his name endlessly. your thighs tremble on either side of him and your expression is contorted at the feeling. he looks down at your body, tongue slipping out to coat his lips and you find yourself wishing it was in your mouth, on your skin. anywhere you wanted him.
he leans down, his muscles rippling and the flesh along his abs bunching in little rolls, his biceps are almost as big as your head. you feel like he was strong enough to lift you with one finger. he seemed that way, strong and mighty in all that he did.
his hips shallowly move to thrust the portion of his length he has managed to shove into you. "you're fucking me." you stutter, your voice barely audible. you have never spoken those words, have never even conjured them up.
naoya's eyes flash, his large hand spanning over your stomach, trailing between your breasts and then gripping your throat. "m'not. but i can, i can fuck you so deep you feel it here." he squeezes the sides of your neck, eyes glancing to your leaking cunt that soaks him even though he has not gotten to the hilt.
the warmth and tightness of you makes him ache to have his entire cock deep in your pussy but you are little and you are looking at him with the sweetest eyes.
he wants to hurt you, he wants to make you cry but you are so adorable. "i can fuck you and have your belly bulging every. single. time. i shove my cock in your dripping cunt."
you have never had someone speak to you like that. you never heard those words strung together nor spoken in such a depraved tone.
you wonder how he could be this handsome. you wonder what led him here, with you.
"i'll make this pussy mine whether you want it or not but you want it, don't you? you want me to fuck you, you want me to have you shaped to my cock and mine alone" he pants. you nod your head, you swear there is cotton between your ears, there is empty space perhaps but there is surely not a working brain.
not after he painted such an image of him fucking you like you were his and turned it to mush. "say it. say it all, say you want naoya zenin to fuck you." you whine, he squeezes your throat, his grip so strong you swore he could crush it to dust.
you whine and babble and your hips move to get more of the stimulation as he shallowly fucks you. your hands find his broad shoulders, just barely gripping them and he leans down. no you could never move someone like him, he let you. he conceded because it is you.
his face is so close, he is composed and collected while you are a mess beneath him. "i want naoya zenin to fuck me" your voice is broken by a moan as he forces more of himself into you.
you whine in his face "i want him to claim me, break me. i only want him in my cunt." your voice is a warbled mess and for some reason naoya did not expect you to be so nasty. to tell him those things. claiming you is one thing but breaking you?
he would do more than break you. he would wreck every inch of you, destroy and decimate it all, there would be no way to return you to what you were.
"then loosen up, slut." you cannot mute the scream that escapes you when the thickness of his girth is pushed entirely into your walls. your legs desperately hook on his hips, so tense they feel sore.
it burns, it hurts and stings but it feels unbelievably good, it did not feel like something you could fathom in a real world only in fantasy.
why, why, why? why does it feel so good? you had no expectations of sex. absolutely none.
when the women spoke they did not entertain such topics. was this what they did behind closed doors? did such depravity remain hidden while they portrayed themselves as saints?
he is so hot, you feel him everywhere. he is nestled inside you like he belongs there, he throbs into your gummy walls.
his large palm graces your tummy, gliding to your lower abdomen. he presses down and you sigh in unison. your eyes wildly look down. "look where my cock is in you, you really are too small to take it."
he is not your husband, he should not have stuffed his cock all the way inside you that his head impresses in your stomach. what right did he have to lay claim?
it does not matter, not anymore. he has your cunt wrapped around him and your body does not protest. no, your body welcomes him with endless slick. it yearns and begs for him. it felt like you were just waiting for him to come and take you.
he pulls out until only his leaking head is enclosed by your cunt. his expression is pleased at the sight of red streaks along him. "got your blood all over my cock. y'know what that means?"
your head is too empty to hear, to function. you cannot quite make out his words but the sound of his voice makes you mewl. you are soaking him again and again.
"means you're all mine." you eyes roll as he shallowly pumps into you. you swear you cannot see beyond him.
his hands grope the perimeter of your waist. "i haven't even fucked you yet and you already look like a brain dead whore." he coos but his eyes are dark.
he is caught up in the sight of your dripping slit stretched around the girth of his cock. his strong thighs flex, you shriek when he starts pounding into you.
naoya bullies his cock into your pussy that will not stop pulsing around him. you are so tight he sees stars. your insides are gooey and warm. he wants to be wrapped in you forever.
his abs strain, his cock is coated in your juices. slick strands are covering him. the more he slams into you the nastier sounds your pussy makes.
"shouldn't be this tight or feel this good." he huffs, he uses your body like a sex doll. he holds you down and thrusts into you so hard your skin stings. every loud collision of his flesh with yours hurts.
"you're my slut, fuck, you're the only bitch i want." your entire body shakes with the weigh of his movements. your eyes water and you fist the soaked sheets.
naoya looks too good above you. the sweat on his forehead dampens his hair and his muscles shift every time he sinks back inside you.
you are delirious, he did as he said he would, he makes your stomach bulge over and over again. he turns your brain into useless chum.
your cunt sputters liquid, his movements are flurried and aggressive. your sex loudly squelches. you never thought it would feel this good.
every vein on his cock slides along your gummy insides, you feel like you are about to pass out. "a whore like you doesn't deserve to cum but i need to feel you gripping me. i need to know how tight your pussy gets when you're cumming." his fingers find your buzzing clit.
"m'not a whore."
"you're getting fucked like one."
all you can focus on is him, he rolls your clit with experience. a part of you hates that despite him being nothing to you. your vision is blurred by tears but blinking them away allows you to see him.
his body seems like a sculpture. every muscle is evident for prying eyes. beads of sweat leak down his temple and his jaw is locked. he looks unreal. you wish he was yours although you do not know him. you have no relation but he is stretching out your cunt and making it his.
your hand grips his, head thrown back as you writhe on the sheets. you breathe in exasperation as his much larger fingers intertwine with yours. he is holding your hand. he is holding it while he pummels your insides.
you are too sensitive and too overwhelmed. when you cum, your entire body trembles. your eyes squeeze tightly and you clamp down on him like a vice. you cream on his cock your entire body coated in sweat while you shake.
the sight of you throws him over the edge.
"shit, fuck, no one is as good as you. no one." he grits his teeth, eyes fluttering. his length is soaked in you, strands coating him and the harder he pounds the more frothy cream collects at his base.
"want you like this forever." his body covers you completely. his arms wrap around your waist to hold you tight to him. all his weight is pressed into you, desperately thrusting his hips as he chases his release.
despite how you whine and cry at the excessive stimulation. your nails digging into his flesh and scratching lines down his skin.
you seem to mark another area of his back every time he pounds into you.
his movements have your body jerking and his muscles flexing. your cunt feels like it is forcefully drawing the orgasm from him, his teeth grit and his eyes flicker as they threaten to roll back.
he is so powerful but right now he looks like he is losing it. his mouth roughly presses into yours, his tongue and spit in excess and his hips stutter for a moment before he slams into you so hard your cunt squelches.
his hips rock as he stays flush to you and for the first time you are getting filled up. it is even hotter than his cock, it sears along your walls, endlessly pouring and leaking as he grows soft.
"you take it so well for a virgin." he pants before his lips claim yours in a nasty kiss.
he says that like he has not already stripped that title from you.
his weight crushes you beneath him but somehow it is comforting. somehow you like it. you like that there is no space between you and him.
your arms reach around his neck, tears streaked down your cheeks while your mouth desperately returns his kiss.
he briefly parts before leaning back in. it is unfair that he has everything. he is too pretty and he seems to be good at everything.
you whine when he sits up on his knees, your hands losing their grip on his muscles. his eyes train where his cock still fills you.
you wince while he slowly pulls out, the cum still dripping out of you. you feel empty without him.
he takes in the cum leaking from your used cunt. all he can think about is doing it again and again. without tire or care. a surprisingly gentle touch swipes your hair from your face before he strokes your cheek and leans down.
his soft lips though swollen softly move along yours. he breathes a bit more laboured as his hands touch and squeeze along your body and his kisses make their way from your neck to your sternum and tits.
you are panting while he trails open mouthed kisses on your skin. his eyes do not leave yours and they are so golden you swear they glow.
your body grows tense when he drifts lower than your belly and suddenly he is kissing right above your cum filled slit and your inner thighs.
"you're so soft." you did not expect it. was that a good thing? his breath is so close to your pussy, it is weird to think he was just inside you.
you squeal, a hand covering your mouth as his tongue swipes over your cunt. "naoya, that's dirty." your voice is muffled beneath your palm, all he does is clamp his mouth on your clit and suck.
laughing into your cunt before his tongue is gliding up and down your slit endlessly.
a man of his calibre was between your legs with his mouth in such a place. it did not make sense. his heated muscle slips into your pussy, saliva coating you in excess.
your feet lift onto the tip of your toes while you moan. you moan for naoya like you were made for it, made for him.
his fingers gently caress the back of your thighs, all while he sloppily sucks up your messy cunt.
he does not want to stop, his cum is inside of you, it is in your pussy.
he came there. he came within your silky walls and he will never stop thinking about it, about you. he pulls back, licking his lips and nipping the flesh of your thigh before trailing his tongue along your slit.
his cum is still seeping out despite the amount he lapped up from your hole. there are sticky strands of liquid on his jaw and mouth as he brings his face to yours
"it's not dirty. what's filthy, is that you let me fuck you like a cock hungry slut." his large palms grasp your tits while you are speechless.
"is that what you are, my cockslut?" you find yourself nodding your head, whimpering in agreement.
you just want to be something to him.
his thumb strokes over your lips while he grips your face, you are so much smaller his entire hand seems to hold it. "you think you can suck me off? get me nice and wet in that little mouth and make me cum?"
you stare up at him with the prettiest wide eyes. you were crying for so long. you cry so much it makes him hard. "i can." you softly whisper and naoya cannot help but kiss you sweetly.
he nips your lips, laving his tongue over them before he sits next to you.
you swallow, he helps you up by a firm grip on your upper arm. your head feels light.
you are surprised when his hand cups the back of your head and shoves down. his erect cock presses against your cheek. "c'mon, don't waste time."
your hand unsurely surrounds the base, you cannot believe something like this had managed to fit inside you. naoya sighs at the softness. your tongue clumsily laps at his slit, the taste of his cum and your juices filling your mouth.
your lips enclose just before his shaft, your mouth insanely warm it makes naoya pant. "take more of it, i don't fucking care if it's your first time." he gruffly says. you are perched on your knees with his cock in your mouth.
moments before you had never seen one in your life.
you are so unsure, you lower on him but the second his tip brushes the back of your throat you gag. you lurch, the muscles constricting around him.
you pull back frantically, coughing as you clutch your throat. naoya finds your eyes more teary. "so fuckin dramatic." he tuts.
his tip presses against the seam of your lips and you have no choice but to open up.
you really do try to be good. you try your hardest to take more but it seems never ending. you gag so much desperately trying to get him seated deep in your throat. but you can't.
that tight little throat of yours can hardly get even half of him in on your own.
"you're shit at this." he laughs airily. you are drooling so much it is insanely messy, he never had it like this before.
every bit of him says to bruise the back of your throat, to fist your hair and fuck into your mouth so that every inch of him feels the silky walls of your throat.
he listens.
at first, his fingers gently caress through your hair. it lasts for a second before he is pushing your head down. your throat constricts and he shudders. he cannot tell which liquid that drips onto his skin is your spit or tears.
he is vicious and rough. constantly bobbing your head along his cock regardless of how you choke. the sloppy noises are all he needs to get there. the feeling of your gooey throat objecting his forceful intrusion. your muscles resisting. "fuck you're such a good bitch. little baby throat s'taking it all."
his body tenses, hips stuttering to fuck into your mouth. he does not usually come this fast. he shoves you down until your lips surround his base. he swears he can see your throat bulging from his cock. your hot sticky saliva drip all over him as he shallowly ruts his hips.
naoya grits his teeth, moaning loudly before he spews cum down your throat. you jerk in confusion but he does not release you. your hands scramble. he feels you swallowing around him but it is not enough.
liquid spills past the perimeter of his cock.
he tugs you off, your mouth wetly separating with a sticky pop.
"you look pretty like this." your hair is knotted, tear streaks coat your cheeks, your lips are swollen from sucking his dick and his cum is spewed in your mouth in a sticky web. it drips down your jaw but he still kisses you.
still does it all sweetly and cups your cheeks as if he is a nice man.
you eagerly accept it. you kiss and kiss and his salty cum is messily exchanged. you are a breathless mess when he pulls away with spit still connecting you.
"so stupid." he shoves your forehead with his forefinger. you want to cry. he leaves you sitting while he lies on the sodden sheets.
it hurts to hear. you sniffle, looking at him. you let all this happen. you slept with him. this is not some lucid sex dream, it really occurred. he came in you, he touched you everywhere.
he had you in way a man never did before.
you are crying for a different reason now. when the lust that clouded your brain finally dispels you realise everything is ruined.
"do you have any idea what you've done?" tears are profusely coating your cheeks, you tug the blanket to your chest.
you are hiding your body as though he has not violated every inch of it. as if his desecration has not tainted you in the form of bruises and cum.
naoya breathes, his eyes rolling as he folds his arms under his head. "i fucked a bitch, s'all."
your face contorts in more pain. this was never supposed to be your life. you meant nothing to the man who was just inside you.
you were nothing to him. "i can't get married now."
naoya looks angry. the muscles in his arms flex, eyes flitting over to you.
in a second he sits up, the expanse of his palm covers your throat. it draws a sound of shock from you. his face is all too close and you wince at the flashes of him fucking you as they are forced into your mind.
how can you forget it? especially when he is at this proximity, when his hands were all over your body and now he simply held your neck.
his gaze flits downwards, he is angry without a doubt. it is hard to not see it when his skin is flushed red and his jaw is locked.
he rips the sheet from your body before he roughly shakes you.
your eyes flash in panic as you grip his tightening hand. "you have me and you want to marry some lowlife prick from your shitty clan?" he hisses into your face, his nose brushing yours over the nonexistent distance.
you gasp for air because he holds too tight. "you weren't a good fuck. not at all." his hand slips between your legs to cup your cum filled cunt and you blanch.
"you're just a prissy little virgin but you're pretty. i'll give it to you, you're gorgeous." without any warning his digits slide inside of you.
it is forceful and rough as he repeatedly thrusts his long fingers into the soaked walls of your pussy. you grit your teeth. it should not feel good. it should not but you cannot help the uninhibited movement of your hips.
your legs practically part for him on instinct despite how badly you want him to get away from you. that is what you want, right?
you should not want him and your eyes that are trailing all over his defined muscles should be looking to the heavens for some hope.
they should not be gleaming at his pretty features or his damp hair. "and you'll be one hell of a bitch but you gotta prove it to me before i marry you." marriage.
oh marriage, marriage, marriage.
it had been on your mind since you were a little girl. you have ached and dreamed and wished upon the stars for it to find you.
"how?" his brows tilt at your broken voice. he shoves you down until your head meets the wooden flooring and your back stings at the impact.
he is over you, his shadow casting along your figure. "let me fuck you. submit yourself to me alone. if ever you touch another man, i'll know."
his voice is deep, his expression dark. he is terrifying, you wonder how someone so pretty could look so horrific. you swallow hard.
"i'd kill him and i'd kill you." his eyes do not leave yours for a second. he brings your legs around his narrow waist, the weigh of his erection digging into the flesh of your inner thighs.
"but if you be good, i'll marry you. i'll take you away from this place."
you want so desperately to escape, you want so desperately to be anywhere but here. you want to be with him even if he is awful.
"will you marry me?" your fingers itch with the urge to draw him closer, your voice a warbled mess. your legs tighten around him, you want him close. so close.
it seems he knows because he nears until his body is flush to yours. until you are engulfed by his scent and the hardness of his figure.
"i swear it." his eyes flick to your lips, so close to him that they brush with his words. his admission has you gripping his cheeks and kissing him.
it's an inexperienced and sloppy kiss but you do as best as you can and naoya finds your mouth one of his favourite things.
tears leak from your eyes as he shoves his entire length into you and your body tenses.
for the second time that night he claims you.
---
despite wanting to be angry at him, you cannot. not when he kissed every bruise he left on your skin, not when he pressed his lips to yours like you meant something to him.
not when he tugged you into his side and you find revery in his scent.
something about naoya is so comforting you find yourself falling asleep with no issue.
or maybe it is because he used and exhausted your body.
he has you wrapped in his arms with familiarity. your face mushed to his chest and your leg thrown over his waist.
his thumb coaxes along your back, his face nuzzling your hair. you look adorable, you look too precious. even in your sleep you press into him more.
naoya wants to burn the sight into his brain.
you are his forever.
"my soul always searches for yours but you have never remembered mine. not once." he whispers into the air although you cannot hear it.
although you do not respond.
isn't he so dreamy ^^
#🩷.jjk#san.stories#📁.size kink#📁.virginity kink#📁.dumbification#tw.dubcon#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk#naoya smut#jjk naoya#jjk x reader#jjk smut#naoya x you#naoya zenin#naoya x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen smut
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I don't need space, I need you
Mattheo and Theodore fluff
Based on this request, please don't hate me for taking 29 days to post this rather average piece, but I had a lot of requests and not a lot of time. I hope you like it!
Finally I had time to write today! Big yey for me, people. I needed it and I'm so happy I wrote something today. 💛 Sending you lots of love and of course: happy readings!
A/N: I got some stuff going on in life so if I don't respond, I'm sorry. Just know that I love you. 💛
Mattheo
“Where’s my princess?” Mattheo sings as he enters the common room in search of you. “Not here, I would check the library.” Blaise states not looking up from his book. Mattheo nods and is about to turn around to head straight for the library, but Draco’s snickering stops him from doing so. “I bet you’re pleased to have a moment of peace.” Mattheo focuses on Draco, not completely getting where the blond's going with this. “I honestly pity you, man, must be so suffocating.” Suddenly all eyes are on Mattheo and not just his friends, the entire slytherin common room is curious to hear what the big bad boy has to say. Mattheo moves a nervous hand through his curls and chuckles. “Yeah, she’s a bit much with her hugs and cuddles, and urgh those constant questions to check on me. I’m lucky she studies so much, so I have a break from time to time.” Mattheo sits down opposite of Draco who grins and nods, fully believing that Mattheo feels saved by your absence. However, Mattheo felt miserable sitting there, knowing that he could be spending time with you.
Just like Mattheo was searching the castle for you, you had been searching for him and ended up checking the common room. With watery eyes you turn around, unnoticed by anyone, and leave the common room. He thinks I’m too much?
***
“Who is it?!” Mattheo yells as he pushes you against the wall of an empty hallway. He rarely raised his voice with you, but now his face was close to yours, his eyes dark and piercing yours. He looks more pained than angry, but you just look confused. To him it was obvious, you had fallen out of love with him and probably found someone else. There was plenty of proof:
A quick kiss on the lips and a wish of good luck before Tuesday's test was all Mattheo got, instead of the tight hug and intense kiss you would normally give him before a test.
When you got your results back on Wednesday you jumped into Luna’s arms and just gave him a happy smile, while he was standing right there next to Luna. His heart ached to hold you and press you against his chest. Worse was when you asked Enzo about his test first and ended up discussing all the answers, barely giving your boyfriend any attention.
Thursday you went to sit next to Pansy in the common room, instead of settling in your boyfriend’s lap. Mattheo was forced to watch you the whole evening without touching you once. When you left for bed, you told him not to walk you to your room and reminded him to spend some much needed time with his friends. The sweet kiss you gave him, didn’t make up for any of it.
Were you trying to get rid of him? To Mattheo the case was obvious.
Friday was the worst. Happy to finally have you next to him as you were both reading, settled close by the fire. With his eyes still on the page of his own book his arm moved behind you to pull you closer and you let your head rest on his shoulder as you continued to read, but still Mattheo frowned. Normally you would sling your legs over his and cuddle up against his chest, wrapping your blanket around the both of you and creating this warm bubble of love. He could barely focus on his book, as his eyes constantly wandered to you reading next to him but not cuddled up against him like you used to.
So by Saturday Mattheo had pretty much had it with you. You rubbed your temple as squeezed your eyes. “I have a headache, I’m gonna head to my room and rest for a bit.” You got up from your seat to leave the library and Mattheo did the same. If you weren’t feeling well then he needed to be by your side. “Oh, don’t Matt. I’ll be fine. I’ll ask Pansy to give me something against the pain and settle next to me until I fall asleep.” Mattheo stood perplexed as you just kissed him and left. Now he wasn’t even good enough to take care of you anymore.
This was the moment he snapped. With stern strides he follows you.
“Who is it?!” You frowned at the question and met Mattheo’s dark eyes. “Obviously, you’re done with me. So who’s better than me, huh?” His voice was filled with anger, but his question sounded so heartbreaking, that you felt no need to get angry with him for pushing you against the wall and snapping at you. You cup his cheeks and softly shake your head. “Matt, I love you. I have no idea what you’re talking about.��� Your voice is calm and endearing, reminding him of how much he needed your love. You were always so gentle with him and feeling you slip away the past week hurt so much that he felt like falling apart on the spot. He's too hurt and afraid to lose you to act tough and with a whisper he confesses his worries. “You don’t check up on me anymore. You don’t wish me luck before a test like you used to. We don’t cuddle anymore.” You stare at him in silence for a moment, you had never seen Mattheo this soft and vulnerable before.
Your hands still resting on his cheeks move to his neck as you wrap your arms around him and pull him against you. Mattheo snuggles his face in your neck, embarrassed with himself and desperate for your warmth. You rest your head against his and your fingers move through his curls, making him sigh at your touch. “You told Draco I was a bit too much. So I backed off, because I didn’t want to lose you. I know I can get clingy sometimes, I’m sorry.” Mattheo moves away to look at you and his eyes look guilty. “No, no. Don’t apologise. Don’t be sorry. I love you clingy and cuddly. I need you to be around me.” Your eyebrows knit together. “But I heard you say-” Mattheo interrupts you and shakes his head. “I was being stupid. Don’t listen to the things I say. Just stay with me and love me… overwhelm me with everything you have.” You tilt your head in confusion. “No, I mean listen to me, just forget about what I said back then. I- I was trying to act tough so I pretended to- you know.” You chuckle. “You pretended not to like cuddles, because you wanted to be a tough guy?” Embarrassed with himself Mattheo nods. “I’m a softy for you and I need my daily dose of love. I don’t need space.”
You sigh at Mattheo’s pouty face. “My boyfriend’s an idiot.” Mattheo nods and leans in for a kiss. “Please, let me take you to your room and let me take care of you, because I want nothing more than to be around you.” You pull him in for another intense kiss as an answer and as you walk to your dorm, he squeezes your hand the whole time walking.
Theodore
“Where’s my lady?” Theodore frowns as he sits down opposite of Blaise, who raises his shoulders without looking up from his book. Theo shakes his head in annoyance, he needed you like he needed cigarettes. He spent the whole day longing for your love and warm embraces. Merlin, all he wanted right now was for you to entangle your fingers with his hair and ask him about his day. “For once the two of you aren’t attached to the hip.” Mattheo quips and Draco snickers. “Must be refreshing to have a moment to yourself.” Theodore stays silent for a moment and a little further, near the common room entrance you halt in your step. “She’s so mothering, it’s almost toxic. I don’t know how you do it, mate.” Draco wiggles his eyebrows at Theo as Mattheo talks. “You know, if you ever need us to come save you, we could always come up with a code word.” Draco offers and Theodore chuckles, not knowing what to say. “It’s not toxic, but I’m happy to have a moment with you guys, because she can be a bit much. She’s always so… clingy.” You chew your lip and slowly take a step back, leaving the common room as the word ‘clingy’ rings in your head.
***
You didn’t want to lose your boyfriend due to being too clingy. So you decided to keep your distance.
Instead of spending your evening studying cuddled up with your boyfriend you ask Hermione to help you out with potions who of course never passes the opportunity to study. Keeping up his tough act in front of his friends, Theodore can’t protest as you leave the common room to go study with your friend instead of with him. Theo feels himself get cold as he sits by the fireplace with his friends. If you’re not there to keep him warm the room just feels empty and even the conversations are boring. He can’t help but curse himself for letting you go study with Hermione. Having to make peace with an evening without you, Theodore longs for the next day and having you next to him during breakfast while you talk about your plans for the day.
The next morning, at breakfast Theo only gets a small kiss from you before you turn to Pansy gossiping about some third years. Theodore can’t resist but snake an arm around you and you love his touch, but you try not to be too clingy and decide to not fully lean against him. Your boyfriend is happy to have you next to him, but disappointed that you stay engaged with Pansy’s gossip instead of giving him some much needed attention. Why were you not combing his hair with your fingers until it looked the way you preferred it? Why were you not checking if he had done all his homework? What was so bloody interesting about Pansy’s conversation?!! He was getting so annoyed that he was caught by surprise when you kissed him tenderly and headed for class. His mind and body were screaming to have you back by his side and walk you to class, but he just turned to his breakfast and spent the morning sulking.
Finally, after two days, he had you close to him, settled on his bed with a book in your hand. You were all alone in his room and you both enjoyed the peace and quiet. You lay between his legs with his arms around you, while his head rested on yours, reading some of the paragraphs of your book but mostly taking in your warmth and scent. He gives you a soft kiss on your cheek and you smile and lean against his chest. “I love you.” You whisper and his eyes shine even brighter than he smiles. “Love you too.” However, your romantic moment is ruined when Blaise and Mattheo enter. “Astronomy tower?” Mattheo raises his eyebrows at Theo who is about to decline the invitation, but you speak up first. “I was just about to meet up with Luna.” You jump up and Theodore's eyes go furious at the suggestion of you leaving. “No you’re not.” Theo snaps at you, shaking everyone in the room. “Why are you so eager to get away from me?” Theo questions and Blaise and Mattheo’s eyes move from their friend to you. You take a step back at your boyfriend's accusation. “I’m not. I’m just giving you space so you can hang out with your friends.” Theo shoots Blaise and Mattheo a dark glare. “Out! Both of you!”
As soon as the duo closes the door behind them and you and Theodore are left alone in the room Theodore gets up and towers over you. “I don’t want space, I want you. So tell me what’s going on, because I can’t stand it anymore.” His voice is stern, but you feel yourself relax as you no longer have to act differently and you can finally be honest with him. “You think I’m clingy and sometimes I’m too much… and I get that and I don’t want to lose you… so I did my best to give you some space in the hopes of saving our relationship.” Theodore’s heart aches at the soft tone of your voice. How could he make you feel like you were too much when you were all he wanted. “I’m such a shit boyfriend.” Theo sighs as he sits back down on his bed, making you frown and join him. “No, I was too much.” Theo’s head snaps to you. “You are not. I didn’t want those idiots to think I was whipped or soft or- so I said you were clingy, but you're not, if anything I am… I want you around 24/7.” Your eyes widen at his confession. “Soooo, you’re saying that ‘the’ Theodore Nott is so in love with me that he prefers cuddling over hanging with his friends.” Your boyfriend chuckles. “Yeah, so please just go back to reading in my arms and make me the happiest man alive.” You lean towards him and he meets your lips. The sweet kiss quickly turns passionate as you both fall back on the bed.
For the ones who asked to be tagged, here you go lovies: @ho3forfakeguys and @bitchoftoji
#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader#slytherin boys#slytherin#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#pepercorgiworldwritings
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