#no blood tw for this one LMAO this feels like a first
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how ateez would confess to you
-> words count : 3.7k words
-> genre : ateez members crushing on you
-> warnings : just a lot of sweetness
-> sorry if I made any spelling or grammar mistakes, english is not my first language
-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !
-> masterlist | ateez masterlist
KIM HONGJOONG - JEALOUS
he’s the type to be bold. but like REALLY bold.
like he’s not embarrassed at all to check you out when you ask him if your outfit looks good and say “it looks more than good, don’t worry.” with that damn smirk screaming in my pillow.
he’s also very protective - always has his hand on the small of your back when you’re walking in a crowded place, and always gives you his jacket or sweater if you’re cold or feeling uncomfortable.
he has an eye on you wherever you two are going to be sure that you’re safe.
asks you to send him a message so he is sure that you’re home whenever you go out of work, or hang out late without him, or when he can’t walk you home.
that being said, it’s also a fact that this man is possessive.
have you seen him whenever an atiny mentions liking another group, or going to other concerts than theirs ?
he would be the same with you.
but since you’re not yet a couple, he tries to hide it as well as he can.
but jealousy would be his breaking point.
seeing you laugh and joke with some trainee of the agency he didn’t even know the name of really made his blood boil.
his death stare was burning holes in the back of the head of the poor boy you were talking with.
he would approach both of you, and as if the trainee wasn’t already intimidated by hongjoong presence, he was looking at him like he killed someone lmao.
the trainee was almost shaking when hongjoong dragged you away from him under a ridiculous excuse.
“- Joong ! Where are we going ?”
He didn’t answer, jaw clenched and his grip on your wrist almost painful as he brought you to his studio. Hongjoong closed the door behind the two of you, just to have the time to think about the way he was going to explain himself. He always succeeded in controlling himself and mostly his jealousy, but today, he didn’t exactly know why, it was too hard seeing you with someone else, laughing like you should be with only him.
“- Hongjoong ? What’s gotten into you ?”
He took a deep breath. Maybe it was finally the moment to say the truth. It would take a weight out of his shoulder, and he could have an answer to all his questions. Hongjoong turned towards you, a smirk on his lips.
“- You want me to be honest ?”
You simply nobbed, looking at him expectantly, and even if he acted confident, his heart was beating fast.
“- I didn’t like seeing you laugh with another guy. Well, I didn’t like it every other time it happened. But I think today was just too much to bear for me. Because I love you. I want you to be mine, only mine. I want to be the one who makes you laugh like that, and I want you to be the one who makes me laugh. What do you say ?”
The blush creeping on your cheeks as you listened to his words, and watched his grin widened was really noticeable. But your smile was even more telling to him.
“- I say yes.”
“from now on and forever, I won’t let you go. you’re mine.”
PARK SEONGHWA - SAFE
he is literally the sweetest person ever.
the type to text you throughout the day to ask if you have eaten and if your answer is no, expect him to be at your door in 5 minutes, drank or took a break.
so, so caring and always there whenever you need him.
mention that you had a bad day or are a little down ? expect a movie night, your favorite snacks and a lot of cuddles from hwa.
speaking of that, he sometimes always acts as if he was your boyfriend.
not that it’s bothering you, on the contrary, but he still claims to everyone that you two are just best friends.
and that’s confusing because he’s out there holding your hands, putting his arm on your shoulder, cuddling with you.
to be honest, seonghwa has been trying to make things ambiguous between the two of you lately, in hopes that you would take the hint that he likes you.
like that one time he pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear and you thought that he was about to kiss you.
so tonight, while he was laying on top of you on your couch, focused on the show playing on the TV, you decided it was time to clarify this situation.
“- Hwa ?”
The man turned his head towards you at the mention of his surname, big doe eyes watching you and waiting for what you wanted to say. You hoped that he couldn’t hear how fast your heart was beating.
“- Can I ask you a question ?
- Yeah, of course.”
Seonghwa’s smile almost made your hands shake, and you came back to playing with his hair to try and hide it.
“- What are we ?”
It was as if the whole world had stopped spinning for Seonghwa. Was it finally happening ? Was this your way of asking him to be more than friends ? He silently prayed for it, closing his eyes for a second to gather his thoughts, and also to escape your piercing gaze that was making him even more nervous than he already was.
“- I’m willing to be whatever you want us to be angel.
- And what do you think of… You being mine, and me being yours ?”
Seonghwa giggled quietly, burying his face in the crook of your neck to hide the red tint on his cheeks. His arms, that circled your waist, tightened their grip, not planning on letting you go anytime soon.
“that’ll be perfect. that’s what i wanted us to be all along.”
JEONG YUNHO - SLEEPY
100% golden retriever energy, you can’t say otherwise i’ll fight.
i don’t know, he just gives this puppy boyfriend vibes, all fluffy and clingy and sweet, he’s just so cute honestly.
the type to always want to hang out, because his love language his quality time.
will make it a ritual to eat with you at least 2 times a week, weekend hangouts where you either simply go shopping or sometimes he plans activities, and movie nights too.
so smiley around you his cheeks hurts when he goes home after spending the day with you.
he gets especially giggly every time you do something a little silly, like when you trip while trying to show him something.
always makes sure you’re alright afterwards though.
to put it in a nutshell, he’s just very cute.
but he finds you even more cute, particularly when you’re all sleepy.
because then you snuggle up to him, seeking his warmth, and you often fall asleep on him, unaware of how much you make his heart flutter.
during your usual movie night, you felt tired and rested on his shoulder.
As Yunho heard your breathing become more regular, he assumed that you were asleep. He was always so glad that you felt safe enough around him to be this vulnerable. And mostly, he got to admire your beautiful face without risking you to catch him. He didn’t know why but tonight, he felt on the verge of telling you. And after all, you were asleep, you couldn’t hear him. He already said it to you a few times like that, what could go wrong ?
“- You’re breathtaking Y/N, really… I love you.”
As Yunho was ready to cover you with a blanket to keep you even more warm, your voice stopped him in his tracks.
“- Can you say it again ? I’m not sure I understood.”
His panicked eyes turned to your fully awake ones, looking at him with a mischievous glint. The poor boy gulped loudly, not knowing if he was going to be in trouble or if you were just messing with him, as you always did.
“- I-I love you, I really do. I just… It was easier telling you when you couldn’t reject me.”
A shy chuckle escaped him as he averted your gaze, missing the smile eating your whole face at his confession.
“- Look at me, big baby.”
And when he eventually did, you finally answered his silent interrogation.
“- I love you too, so much.”
Yunho engulfed you in the biggest hug, already taking advantage of your new relationship.
“I can’t wait to spend every day and every night by your side.”
KANG YEOSANG - PERFECT
he’s not very talkative, in the sense that he’s not always making remarks about what you tell him.
but don’t worry, he got it all written in his head.
it could be the most useless detail about a story that happened to you years ago, and he still will remember it.
because you’re too precious to him to forget anything about you he’s so boyfriend material.
the type to take notice of what you like to eat.
say that you love a certain type of food one time, and you’ll get it every now and then.
he remembers your coffee order from day one.
also a really good listener and give the best advice.
that being said, he’s the type to notice if you looked at something with envy in a shop, or said that you wanted this or that.
and bets that he’ll confess with a little gift that he bought for you.
maybe that’ll be a waste of money if you say no, but he doesn’t care, you’re worth it.
so he’ll buy this necklace you’ve been talking about for weeks, and come to you one day, almost out of the blue to offer it to you.
“- You shouldn’t have, really. That’s too much.
- It’s never too much when it comes to you.”
You were blushing like crazy, as much as from his words and how his fingers brushed against your skin as Yeosang attached the necklace for you. His eyes reflected nothing but love and adoration when he looked at you.
“- You’re beautiful, it suits you perfectly.
- Thank you so much Sangie ! But what is this for ? It’s not my birthday or anything special…”
Yeosang lowered his head for several seconds before mustering the courage to let the words finally spill from his mouth. They were coming out so naturally that it seemed like you were truly made for one another.
“- I wanted to give you this just because you loved it, but also to remind you how much I love you. And I don’t mean it in a friendly way. I like you. And I hope, if you return my feelings, that this necklace is gonna remind you of that everyday.”
Your smile was enough of an answer for him, but you took a step forward, putting your hand on Yeosang’s cheek and making his heart beat faster.
“- I’ll wear it everyday from now on. I must find something for you to wear and remember how much I love you too.”
“let’s get matching ones then, that’ll make us soulmates.”
CHOI SAN - FORCED
now this boy is the most obvious when it comes to crushes.
like all the members could tell that he was down bad for you since the first day.
but you didn’t seem to notice.
however, it was indeed very clear since he looked at you as if you put all the stars in the sky.
really, i don’t understand how you didn’t notice.
beside the fact that he’s literally a simp for you, he’s also been your best friend for several years now, and he knows you like the back of his hand except your undying love for him.
he had always been by your side : when you were sad or happy, when you had your first crush and even when you got drunk for the first time.
the members having obviously noticed how san was struggling to tell you how he felt, they tried to help him multiple times.
to be honest, this was not really efficient but at least they tried.
the latest attempt was at this little party they planned at the dorms, and of course you were invited.
at one point, everyone gathered to play truth or dare, and of course, it was a trick to get you two to confess to each other not very slick, yeah.
“- So San, truth or dare ?
- Truth, I have nothing to hide.”
His confident smile made you chuckle, knowing all his embarrassing secrets and also knowing how much he, in fact, had to hide.
“- Well, then tell us who your crush is.”
The smirk on Yunho’s face made a deep contrast with the defeated one on San face. You felt your own smile flatter as you tried not to look at your best friend. You knew this day would come. Of course San wouldn’t stay with you until your old days. Of course he would find a better partner. You were only his best friend, not his lover.
“- I… Uh-
- I thought you had nothing to hide, Sannie.”
The group laughed collectively at Wooyoung's remark, except you and San. You were almost ready to stand up and leave when your best friend turned to you.
“- Y/N… I really love you.”
Your eyes widened as San ran away immediately. Around you, the members were all whistling and making weird noises. But you didn’t hear them. You only heard San’s words again and again. Quickly after, you followed him to the kitchen. He had to know how much you loved him too. When you found him, he had his head pressed on the fridge, eyes closed and probably overthinking everything he had ever said and done.
“- San…”
He turned to you quickly, worry filling up his gaze.
“- Listen Y/N, I’m really sorry ! I shouldn't have said that in front of everyone, I should’ve kept it for a moment just between us, or never tell you at all in fact. I apologize for making you feel uncomfortable and I’m-
- San, stop.”
You took a step toward him, your smile eating your face.
“- We’ve known each other for years, you’ll never make me uncomfortable. Stop thinking too much, okay ? ‘Cause I love you too, since I don’t even remember when because you’re the most important person in my life.”
No answer came except his lips on yours, and his hand on your waist, pulling you against his body.
“i’ve always known that one day we’ll be together, and that one day i’ll marry you. but let’s keep that for later.”
SONG MINGI - DRUNK
the boy is a stuttering and nervous mess around you.
blushing everytime you smile at him, but denying it if you ever mention it before blushing even more, he’s so cute.
besides the fact he’s so impressed by your charisma and presence, he’s very funny around you.
the type to make the dumbest jokes and put himself in ridiculous situations if that makes you laugh.
because your smile and laugh are the most beautiful things he had ever seen and heard.
it’s so funny to see a big guy like him being so amazed by just one person, you find that really endearing.
but that also means that he’s not brave at all.
like, if he ever tried to just muster up the courage to tell you that he has the biggest crush on you, he would chicken out as soon as he saw you.
and I think that to be able to confess, he would have to take a little liquid courage yes, that means getting drunk.
one night, the boys were celebrating the release of their new comeback with some drinks and mingi asked you to come with them.
and of course, he’ll end up drinking too much, hoping that he would either stop thinking about you or finally telling you how he felt.
“- Y/N !”
Mingi’s scream made you jolt in place and turn around quickly, smiling when you saw him trying to walk straight in your direction, with his rosy cheeks and glossy eyes. He was cute, really cute. But you didn’t expect him to literally throw himself in your arms. You caught him as best as you could, shivering as his breath tickled your neck.
“- Are you alright Mingi ?”
He nodded his head, trying to steady himself and standing straight on his feet again. You looked up at him, preparing yourself to decode his slurred words.
“- Yeah… Yes, I’m alright but I wanted to say something to you… I really, really like you… I mean, like you, not like a friend, I want you to be my lover… Because I love you.”
A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips, and Mingi’s heart skipped a beat. His brain was all mushy just from seeing your gaze focused on him and only him, and alcohol wasn’t helping at all in controlling the blush on his cheeks.
“- I like you too Mingi, and I would like to be your lover too. But we’ll talk about this when you’re sober, okay ?”
________________________________________
“- I really said that ?”
You chuckled lightly, caressing his cheeks softly, diving in his mesmerizing, hypnotizing eyes.
“- Yeah, you did. But to be honest, it was very cute. You’re very cute anyway. So, would you like to be my lover Mingi ?”
The boy in question pecked your lips, smiling too.
“that’s not even a question princess. i’ll be by your side as long as you’ll let me stay.”
JUNG WOOYOUNG - IMPULSIVE
i see him as someone very spontaneous.
if he passes by a restaurant he likes, no matter what hour it is or what he has to do, he’ll stop and eat.
if he likes someone, he’s gonna tell them.
that’s what you love about him, and that’s also probably how you met.
he was certainly doing something stupid, as always, and ran into you, making you fall on the floor.
and boom ! you were best friends forever.
he didn’t stop doing ridiculous things, on the contrary since he noticed that you’re in the same mood as him and that it’s making you laugh, he’ll be doing it even more.
but the thing is that wooyoung wants way more than being friends since the first day.
but now that he’s got you in his life, he’s a little (very) afraid of losing you.
so he’s gonna try and hide his feelings as best as he can.
but when he passed by this flower shop, and saw your favourite ones standing outside, he couldn’t help thinking of you.
and that’s how he ended up at your door, with the flowers, trying to calm himself down.
“- Woo ? What are you doing here ?
- I.. Uh… These are for you !”
He handed you the flowers, feeling a blush creeping on his cheeks as you took them hesitatingly. Wooyoung never felt so nervous in his life. Even before his first concert, even before his first fanmeeting. Even with all the stressful events he had experienced being an idol, he never got so anxious.
“- Thank you, I guess ? What are these for ? It’s not my birthday, nor anything special I think.”
You chuckled at your own words, leaving Wooyoung asking himself why he did that.
“- Don’t get me wrong ! I like them, they’re beautiful and I’m surprised you even remembered what my favourite flowers were ! But why ? I don’t understand…”
He thought about letting out all the words he kept for himself for weeks, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. So instead, he leaned in to kiss you. It was not even a peck : he kissed you passionately, like it was the last thing he got to do before dying. You let the flowers fall to the floor, dropping them without any regrets when you tug at Wooyoung’s hair, deepening your kiss. And his smile when you backed out for air told you everything you needed to know.
“i’ll buy you flowers everyday if it means i get to kiss you like this.”
CHOI JONGHO - TEXT
first thing first, this man’s smile could kill you and me, he’s so cute that’s got to be illegal.
the type to value your friendship so much, to the point he prefers to just be your friend than ever risking your relationship if he’s not 100% certain that your feelings are mutual.
his crush developed slowly, falling for you little by little and growing fond of you much more as time passed.
the members noticed how much he liked you when they saw that jongho lets you sleep on his shoulder whenever you are tired.
or when he willingly hugs you every time you need it.
he doesn’t like physical contact but with you, it’s natural and he sincerely appreciates it.
so careful when it comes to his feelings, because he doesn’t want to lose you or upset you.
that’s why i think he would confess through very, very long messages he’ll send late at night.
probably threw his phone away as soon as he did it, not wanting to see your response.
but that’s also why he did it : to let you choose if you wanted to respond or just ignore what he just told you.
so when you called the next day, he panicked.
“- Hi Jongho !
- H-Hi Y/N.”
At least, your tone seemed as cheerful as usually, and not upset or disappointed.
“- I must admit I was really surprised when I saw your texts when I woke up this morning. I was not expecting that at all.
- And… Is it in a bad or a good way ?”
Jongho didn’t want to pressure you, but he needed to know how you felt, needed to know if he should smile or bury himself six feet under.
“- In a good way, don’t worry.”
You clearly heard his sigh of relief, which made you both chuckle at the other end of the phone. And both of you had the biggest smile on your faces.
“- I’ll need at least two hours to even come close to a good answer and I don’t have the time right now. So just listen to that : I like you too, so much you can’t imagine. But if you’re willing to listen to my boring ramble for hours…”
“i love listening to you, I’ll never get tired of it..”
-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my works.
#ateez x reader#ateez x yn#ateez fics#ateez imagine#ateez reactions#ateez scenarios#ateez#hongjoong#hongjoong x reader#seonghwa#seonghwa x reader#yunho#yunho x reader#yeosang#yeosang x reader#san#san x reader#mingi#mingi x reader#wooyoung#wooyoung x reader#jongho#jongho x reader#ateez fluff#kpop
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(2) the curse of living in a small town | I got a bad idea series
—> masterlist
southern!wandanat x fem!city-girl reader
tw: allusions to sex (didn’t happen, r just misunderstands), discussion of w&n undressing r while she was drunk bc r threw up on them, slight angst, two separate minor injuries (r), blood mention, mentions to past drunkenness (r), incorrect scared horse description?
a/n: in true me fashion this is published without being proofread. so excuse my choppy ass writing lmao
The sheets wrapped around you were too warm, and it often pulled you back to sleep. Any time you begin to stir, all you had to do was twist your body and you were falling asleep again. The sun was high in the sky by the time you actually opened your eyes.
The curtains were closed, but the air conditioning would push the corners so they’d flip up and let the light in. It didn’t take long to recognize that the room you were in was not a room you recognized.
You froze, dread piling within you as you took in each individual difference between the room you were in versus the one back at your grandparents. The coats hung behind the door, pictures laid on the vanity in front of you, a hand-made blanket thrown across the edge of the bed frame. Not to mention the smell—though pleasant—it was unrecognizable.
It took looking down at your current sleep wear to make you freak out. It wasn’t yours.
Everything on top and underneath wasn’t yours. Your heart rate seems faster than normal when you crack the door open. It’s quiet, and a sign for you to run out the door.
Your feet are bare, so the sound of the bottom of your foot sticking when it picks off the floor is embarrassingly loud. You’ve almost reached the first floor, feet about to meet the halfway mark on the stairs when you hear a voice beside you.
No rational thought came to mind as you rush down the stairs. Your left foot slips and you miscalculate the distance between the last step and the bench sitting across from you. It collided into the bench’s leg with a solid thud.
The wind gets knocked out of you, forcing you to hunch over and wait for the sting to leave. You don’t want to see who’s greeted you, ignoring it even as you miserably make it to the front door.
Across from you in the middle of their yard is Natasha. Though with how fuzzy last night was, she’s become a stranger to you. You turn to the left and book it towards the one thing you recognize at the moment, your grandparents home. You hear her call out to you, but you don’t waste any time running through the warm grass. All emotions related to embarrassment, regret, and shame fill you and force your adrenaline to kick it into overdrive.
Your grandma’s having a field day, laughing as she sees you through the kitchen window. She calls her husband over, the sight of you in almost nothing cracking him up hit he attempts to save your dignity.
He opens the door for you, not saying anything because he knew you’d rush past him and shut yourself in a room. Which is exactly what you did.
“That’s pretty early for a night owl like her,” your grandma laughs, looking to your grandpa. He has a sympathetic look on his face, still looking off where you ran up the stairs.
“I feel bad, honey.“
“It’s not that I don’t feel bad, I just think she’s a grown adult. She choose to get drunk, I’m sure she’s just embarrassed to find out she drunkenly cried over someone congratulating her for graduating college.”
That’s not the reason why you felt embarrassed. You had zero chance of knowing what happened last night until you talked to one of them. Confrontation wasn’t your strength, avoidance was. That’s why you’re caught up in this mess with your boss at work, you can’t tell him to give you a raise because you’re afraid of getting fired.
That’s how you feel now. You’re afraid of asking what happened last night because you’re scared of the possible situation. There’s no obvious physical signs of anything happening other than your clothes being changed. That being said, you still left your clothes over there. At this point, they can keep them.
The picture frames that covered the walls were photos from their marriage. Them smiling, a few of them kissing. It was beautiful and you were terrified you were to ruin it, what they have, after last night. Your home was even quieter than theirs, that was until your mother had begun to bang against your door.
“Get dressed, you’re coming with me into town.”
You realize then that all of your sudden movement from earlier catches up to you. Your mother realizes it too and thankfully allows you to sleep in more. After a few home remedies you’re feeling better, but not fully healed. When she finds you in bed at 3PM, she’s hurrying into your bedroom and pushing you to get out
“Tomorrow?”
“No,” she pulls the sheets off the bed, “fall for stupid tricks get stupid consequences, come on.“
You shy away from the laughs coming from your brother and grandparents when you make it downstairs. There was a small tray in the kitchen with a varying fruits. A small sticky note beside it with a personalized message towards you, telling you to take whatever’s left.
“Want to visit the diner in town? I’d like to visit my friend for a minute, you can get lunch?”
Your mom navigates the plans, pushing beside you. You make a small plate and grab more meds from the pharmacy tray in the furthest cabinet to the left.
“I don’t care, mom.”
She grabs the keys off a small hook and wonders off outside. Her actions telling you get yourself in the car within the next few minutes. You bother finds himself stumbling into the kitchen, “to set the record straight, I won.”
“Fuck off,” you mumble, grabbing your phone and tumbling out the door. Your mom pulled the car out front with the window’s down.
“Buckle your seatbelt.”
“We’re going down St Peters?”
“You’re still sobering. I’m scared you’ll pull the door open and fly out.”
“Mom,” you point towards where the city is, “the streets are 25, it’s slow. Just go.”
She still replayed her comeback to you, going on about how over drinking is terrible for you. Meanwhile her yapping was making everything hurt worse. You rest your head against the window as best as you can, trying to be mindful of the constant bumps due to the rock road.
“—you had cried like a baby.”
“I did what?”
“Cried last night.”
You groan, “I can’t believe I did that.”
“You did a lot of things,” she says eventually once you’ve gotten onto the road. Her sentence doesn’t help the downfall of emotions you’ve been experiencing since this morning.
“Have anybody in your sights lately?”
“Nope, still single.”
She prods further, asking, “are you going to get married? I don’t care how or when, just sometime before I die so I can have grandchildren.”
“I understand. You’ll be the first to know if I find someone.”
She turns down the street, onto where the most amount of buildings lie unless you want to drive for hours. It’s a thirty minute drive, decent enough to get what you’re needing. Food, supplies, send mail, or to set up market. There was a spot in front of the town’s diner, the one your mom chose and the one right by where a certain someone’s car was parked as well.
You climb out of the car, unsuspecting and following your mom into the diner. She pulls away from you almost immediately to talk to her friend who’s sat at a booth towards the back. You thought to introduce yourself, include yourself in the conversation between an old acquaintance. The both just behind her was where Natasha was, your eyes finding hers. You grew defensive, turning on your heel to sit at the bar instead.
The lady behind the counter takes your brisk order. The look on her face is also wondering why you’re this bothered by her presence. If it were a one night stand, it’s fine, they happen. Usually they don’t and with one running out into the field barefoot though.
She hands you the tea you ordered. You’re sure your expression is still tense judging by the fact her eyes never leave you until she’s rounded the corner. Whether she’s concerned, or noisy, it doesn’t matter. If she could tell you’re tense, you’re sure Natasha can tell if she so much looks your way.
You’re unsure about why, but you look over your shoulder. It was with a purpose to look at your mother, but you glued onto her again and freaked when you saw her get closer. Hands growing sweaty around the cold drink in your hands when she sits beside you. She wastes no time getting straight to the point, narrowing you with a stare.
“Why’d you run off this morning?”
The conversation you’ve been dreading was unraveling. You keep your eyes on the old tv, not sparing her a glance. She doesn’t budge. You finally turn towards her, meeting her stare, “do I know you?”
It was a complete lie that she seemed to beleive for a split second. She backed up, giving you enough space and time for your mother to come back. You were gone by the time she put the pieces together. The way you looked back at her, nervously swallowed when she got close, and sat still when she spoke to you. You definitely recognized her.
You ran into them again at the market a day later. Whoever they went, you copied, hiding behind anything you could to avoid being seen.
You ran into them again when Natasha was getting gas at the station you liked off Westview. You went above and beyond to push your seat back, putting yourself out of the span of her line of sight.
You ran into them everywhere. The only place they had yet to wonder into was your grandparents land. It felt like your safe zone, the area where they couldn’t roam.
That proved to be wrong when you crept into the stable at sundown, visiting the newer addition to the stable. You met him a day ago when your grandfather took you out to see him for the first time.
You sat in the corner of his pen on a stool, watching as he ate the feed you poured into his food mound into. Your grandfather mentioned needing him to get used to new people as they wanted to train and sell him eventually to a rider.
“Why’re you up so late?” wanda had asked almost as if she came out of nowhere. It startled you and the sound your hand made when it hit his feeder had him freaking out as well. Wanda’s quick to unlatch the door, pulling you into her. The wooden edge caught onto your skin, dragging and pulling it until it bled.
“Thank yo—“
“No need, my apologies for scaring you,” she looks towards the terrified horse, “and him”
“Ah no worries, he gets scared often,” you brush the hay off of your jeans, “why’re you in here?”
“We bought half the stable two years ago.”
Of course they did.
“Oh.”
“Guessing your ma didn’t tell you?”
You shook your head, reaching an arm out to slide it down the side of his snout, bringing him to eventually stand still. She waits patiently beside you, looking between you and the horse.
“Got yourself cut there?”
“I did?“
Her fingers weave under your arm, pulling it up and showing you the slice your arm took a minute ago. She looks saddened, “I’m sorry, angel, I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”
“It’s just a small cut. I barely even knew it was there I’m so immune to them.”
She doesn’t look pleased. She invites you to her house, and you want her to leave. It’s not her, it’s you. You can still feel your nerves spike after all these days when you see them time after time again. Going back to their house would mean you’d have to see how the two of them are doing, and lately, they haven’t been in the same room.
If there’s one thing you remember from last night, was that they came together and were almost wrapped in each other’s arms.
“At least let me cleanse it before anything tries to infect it.”
You agree and she sits you down on the chair in the tack room, coming back a second later with a small bag. The cut did not draw any attention to you when it happened, but you’re thankful she noticed or else the blood could’ve spread onto your clothes or anything else you touched.
Neither one says anything while she rubs disinfectant on the gash. The horses in their stalls were making much more noise in how they huff and walk around. Being cooped up in a little cell would drive you crazy. Like being cooped up in this room with Wanda was suffocating.
“Have you had any meds since last night?”
“Yes,” you rush to look away when she glances at you, “ma has a supply in her cabinets.”
“Good.”
Oh my gosh you want to run back into the house and stay in there until you fly back to New York. She’s entirely calm and her fingers are steady, something you’re trying to copy.
“If you need anything, come visit.”
It was the undertone of her statement that confused you. It was inviting. She put the cotton pad into the trash, coming back to sit beside you. Her fingers were so gentle, hovering over your skin and unintentionally giving you chills.
“Thank you.”
Her smile so soft. She finishes putting the small bandage over your arm and walks back out to put it away. You don’t want to run now, partially because you’re with the one who’ll lay the truth down in a kinder way.
“What happened last night.”
You know she heard you when she laughs out loud, the sound light and airy. It confused you, bringing you to ask more questions. She motions for you to leave the room, the key going into the lock after.
“You got drunk and cried if Natasha or I tried to leave. We all decided it would be best if we just brought you to our house for the night. You fell asleep the second your head hit the pillow. Natasha heard you being sick late into the night, I believe it was 3AM? She left to help you—“
“That’s a wonderful story,” you cut her off in hopes to not hear the rest, but you’re incredibly relieved to find you hadn’t slept with them that night, “I am so terribly sorry you had to deal with that.”
“If you’d like your clothes from last night back they’re folded in our laundry room.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“We wanted to.”
You walk past the first few stables to grab your phone off the table you had set it on when you walked in. You flit it into your back pocket, “would you be alright if I stopped by to grab my clothes tonight?”
“Not at all.”
The front gate to the stable shuts. Wanda pulls a small flashlight, shining the light to help you both walk back towards their house. Her eyes were focused ahead, shorter hair covering half of her side profile.
“When I first met you, how long had you been married?”
“About three years,” she explains, “we got married in the summer.”
“The pictures in your home are beautiful.”
She thanks you, walking ahead to open the door to her estate for the both of you. The moon’s full, providing enough light that almost puts the flashlight to shame. It shows the shorter path ahead of you, marked by dried dirt and stones.
The door to their home opens and Natasha walks to stand in the doorway. The two greet each other with a kiss, whispering small pleasantries. It’s only for a second, but it singles you out and makes you feel you’re imposing. Natasha holds the door for you to enter, letting the screen door swing shut once you’ve all entered.
Wanda walks you through their house towards the laundry room, indirectly giving you a tour of everything you ran past in a blur that morning. The emerald green backsplash in their kitchen and wooden cabinets. Little miscellaneous items thrown about like a stack of papers and a random hair clip.
“Here,” she peeks into the laundry room, setting the clothes onto your open arms, “sorry they’re all cold, I promise they were warm this morning.”
You laugh awkwardly, the shy sound getting cut off from Natasha calling for Wanda from another room. You two found Natasha standing in the living room, holding an opened envelope. Shreds of paper were on the floor, results of her careless attempts of opening the letter.
“Why are we still getting mail from the Parsons? We finished their payment last week.”
Wanda takes it from her hands, scanning over the letter for only a second, “it’s possible they’ve forgotten, they’re entirely too old.”
Natasha mumbles under her breath and goes to place it with the other thrown about papers on their dining room table.
“I’m probably going to head out now,” you look behind yourself, ensuring that you’re actually walking backwards towards the door, “thank you for everything.”
“Course, angel. Have a good night.”
You smile, feeling like you’re being drowned underwater as you step down the porch. Their conversation can be heard even as you’re halfway down their driveway, the screen door doing nothing to separate building from the rest of the world.
You grow cold as you walk back home, the light and warmth their home brought escaping you with each step you took walking away from them. It’s loud back at your grandparent’s home, most everyone is situated in the backyard, but a few remain in the living room.
Your aunt greets you first, asking where you were before asking if you could help your brother with the dessert since apparently he’s “still recovering from last night.” You doubt that but you’re in no mood to fight.
Your grandparents are sitting on a one person couch. Legs are intertwined and hands held and it brings back a memory from last night in their home when you were laid over Natasha’s waist in a similar position. You leave the room with an aching feeling in your chest.
There’s times when you were unsure of how you were feeling. The reason why you felt off sometimes never making itself known. You were home with family, a plate with crumbs laid on the table between you all. It was fine, you were safe and in a warm building with food and water and everything necessary.
When the lights turned off in the house and everyone had gone to bed, you still felt a tight squeeze in your chest. You labeled it as a combination of so much happening the past couple of days, and the fact you drank more than usual just the night before. When you climbed in bed, you fell asleep looking at the little lit-up house down the road.
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As requested by @mellowwillowy who asked me to do some dark Yandere content. I'm gonna try my best, but be prepared to probably be incredibly disappointed since I've never written Yandere stuff and it's not my forte. Really went out of my comfort zone for this one LMAO.
Featuring: Yandere!Jade, Yandere! General Lilia, Yandere! crowley
TW: DARK CONTENT. Non-consensual, Stalking and obsessive behavior, Sexual assault, hair pulling, mentions of cannibalism, reader locked up, toxic relationships, toxic behavior, degradation, manipulation, hair pulling, abuse, forced "pregnancy" Although only mentioned as being pregnant not describing gender or sex.
anybody experiencing such things in real life, please reach out for help <3
WARNING: I don't typically write stuff like this on my blog, so I will say this now: Any hateful comments WILL IMMEDIATELY BE BLOCKED. If you decide to read from here on out, that is ON YOU. I will NOT tolerate any bullying, harassment, or negativity. These are EXTREMELY sensitive and triggering topics and you have been thoroughly warned.
Yandere! General Lilia
♡ Yandere! General Lilia who found you at your most vulnerable. You were on the ground after being left behind by your comrades, frail and barely moving. He looked down at you with pity in his eyes, using the tip of his foot to lift your head to look up at him. While you sneered at him with distaste, a dark idea flooded his mind. Lilia smirked down at your body before stepping on the top of your head, pushing it into the mud.
♡ "Poor, pathetic human...Look how they left you behind..." He removed his foot and bent down to your level, using his hand to grab you by the hair and lift your bloodied face. "Ohh..if we clean up this blood, I'm sure you're not a horrible sight to look at. How about I take you in? As my little human 'pet'?"
♡ You didn't have a choice. Lilia was eager to knock you out and drag you to a misshapen house that was obviously thrown together on a whim, throwing you inside. He cleaned you up while you were passed out, noting all your properties. You were unaware of this, though. He convinced you that you had simply passed out and he had kindly lay you to rest upon the bed. What a liar.
♡ the first week while you were too weak to move, Lilia would keep you in a warm bed and spoon-feed you food. Although he often seemed cold, you would describe him as warm at the time. It was shocking how kind this fae could be, too kind, really.
♡ He practically nursed you back to health and you completely forgot about the fact he had dragged you there in the first place. A fae helping a human seemed out of bounds, but he was just so...different. So you thought.
♡ Although, he thought you were escaping once when you stepped outside of the home for the first time simply for some fresh air. He quickly let down the facade he had held and gave you a reminder of why you shouldn't trust him.
♡ He'd punish you by pulling you by the hair and dragging you back into the house kicking and screaming, placing you in front the mirror nearby. He would force you to look up while he degraded you.
♡ "See this?" He grabbed you by the cheeks roughly, pressing hard, "Who would want a pathetic and ugly human such as yourself? what do you think will happen when you go out? You will be left behind just like they did before." He let go, a smile replacing his anger, "But not me...I told you if you stayed here nothing bad would happen, but you were trying to leave me, weren't you?"
♡ No matter how much you cried and told him that wasn't your intention, Lilia tsked and refused to believe you.
♡ As a continued punishment for your defiance and retorts, General Lilia would roughly tear your clothes off and force you to look in the mirror as he violated you. Your hands were bound with magic and your mouth gagged, Lilia pulling your legs apart roughly and unzipping his pants.
♡ "How does it feel to be filled to the brim by a fae? It must feel better than any human could ever make you feel. If you stay, You get to feel like this all the time...any human would be elated, wouldn't you agree?"
♡ "We would make such beautiful mixed children, wouldn't we?" He groaned as he came into you for the 6th time that night of your punishment pressing his hand against your stomach, "right here. Swollen with bastard children..."
♡ After your attempted "escape", you were chained up and typically naked. He would feed you, cleanse you, and bring you random gifts and food...Truly keeping his word on treating you as if you were his pet. It was debilitating.
♡ If you were good, he would let you sleep in that warm bed that you first got to sleep in upon arriving. He'd even sleep with you...not without his hands wandering around your body and having his way with you a time or two.
♡ He makes a point to frequently shower you with gifts and affection, even bringing you clothing and allowing you to walk around the house.
♡ On other days he reminds you of how useless you are as a human, reminding you how he found you and kindly took you in when you were abandoned
♡ Tells you how much he loves you and going back would never do you any good... you could never leave his side.
not like he'd let you any time soon, anyway.
Yandere! Jade
♡ He starts out by watching you from afar, admiring you. You always felt his stare at times, but you could never quite see him or put your finger on it.
♡ You will find random things inside your locker. They started out innocent enough, cards professing love for you, flowers, random things he would find in the mountains. You thought it was rather cute, even if you couldn't tell who was leaving it behind for you to find.
♡ Then soon it progressed to photos he took of you with notes on the back. The first time you pulled out a photo of yourself anticipating a letter, your smile quickly dropped. Jade, however, was smiling in the corner watching you unravel his plan.
♡ One was a picture of you changing through a window of Ramshackle, behind the letter is said "Every part of you is my favorite, but I'm particularly fond of your bare legs."
♡ This becomes incredibly worrying to you. You still weren't sure who this mystery person was, and of course you went to someone you were close to for advice. That person was Jade, as he predicted enough.
♡ He's your white knight. He acts all worried and panicked on your behalf, stating he would "take care of it." After about a week when the letters and pictures stopped, you thanked him with a hug.
♡ that single hug sent shivers down Jade's spine. Just being in close contact with you in terms of an embrace wasn't enough...he found himself quickly rushing to the bathroom to release himself, pulling out his phone using the same filthy pictures he took of you to pump his cock dry.
♡ His behavior only worsened from there. That single hug gave him this itchy feeling that wouldn't leave him about being close to you- soon noticing other items of yours going missing. Your underwear, specifically.
♡ You thought it was only a little bit weird when he gifted you a set of new underwear, but you talked it up to just being super close with Jade and he was trying to be helpful with your missing hosiery and was sympathetic to your issue.
♡ Upon visiting his dorm room, you took notice of a specific notebook. He had walked out per Azuls request for assistance, and you took this opportunity to snoop around. Inside this notebook, you found a bunch of pictures of you- ranging from the ones you saw in your locker, to other more disturbing photos such as your sleeping form in revealing night clothing and one in which you were preparing for a bath.
♡ The dread truly set in once you read all sorts of insane things Jade had put, but one that stood out to you the most was an entry in which he detailed how if he couldn't have you, he would have to chop you up and put you in his favorite dishes to fully make you one with him.
♡ "I've never felt more connected with someone before. I know we must truly be fated for one another, and I can't bear this burning in my heart to have them nearby. Perhaps in order to fully reach a level of togetherness, the only way to become truly one with one another is if I were to cut them up and consume-"
♡ You wanted to throw up. You had to stop reading, but before you even had the chance to react, the unexpected occurred.
♡ "I see you've found my little secret," A voice from behind you startled you, dropping the notebook and stared up at the tall male with a deadly pale face and dreaded wide eyes. His expression was difficult to read with an uneasy smile spreading cheek to cheek
♡ "What happens from this moment on," He said, grabbing you by the chin and leaning into your face, "Is entirely up to you."
Yandere! Crowley
♡ You had always been seen as Crowleys favorite. It wasn't like he made it particularly difficult to tell, the way the students would spot his crows anywhere you were.
♡ He was constantly monitoring your every move. If you were with someone else, he'd always inquire to you about your conversations and why you were so engaged in talking with someone other than himself.
♡ "Don't you think you're getting too close to my students?" He pouted, "I think this was a bad idea. How about I allow you to stay with me? Oh, how kind I am to invite you open arms into my home!"
♡ It really wouldn't be much different than now. You were always aware that he watched your every move- the crows in your window while you were stripping for bed were an obvious sign that you were never alone or away from his prying eyes.
♡ Crowley is incredibly coy and risky. He doesn't care what anybody else says or thinks when it comes to you, he wanted to make it painfully obvious specifically to the staff that you were his prey and his alone.
♡ This includes having his way with you anytime, anywhere. If you were just bringing papers to him, he'd have you on his desk with your legs spread at a moment's notice without as much as locking the door.
♡ This wasn't uncommon. He was always testing your patience, a hand crawling up your skirt in the middle of a meeting or taking you in a classroom after hours. But he's never done anything this extreme before...
♡ While you're completely bare and naked on his desk for anyone to walk in and see you in all of your glory, Crowley only unzipped his pants to free his cock from his confines. He's quick to push himself inside of you without prepping you first, leaving you to yelp out in pain.
♡ "Hush, now...we wouldn't want anyone else coming in and seeing you in such a state, would we? If you aren't quiet and another teacher comes in..." He tsked, smirking and swallowing your whimpers with his mouth.
♡ It was as if he was purposefully trying to make you fail, as if he had some sort of plan. Pressing his cock into the deepest parts of you practically slamming his hips against yours. It hurt more than felt pleasurable, you felt tears prick your eyes and a loud yelp of pain escape your lips.
♡ It wasn't a surprise when Crewel walked in to see what was going on. Upon this sight, Crowley tsked once more and looked at you with distaste, not even phased at Crewel's appearance. As if he was practically expecting it.
♡ "Look what you've done...I suppose it's time for your punishment now, isn't it?"
♡ You were soon gagged and hands tied in front of you, Crewel now having his way with you as if it were the most natural thing to occur while Crowley watched. Tears were pouring down your eyes, looking over to Crowley unable to tell what he was thinking behind that mask of his.
♡ When your body stopped resisting and you went limp in giving up, Crowley walked over and instructed Crewel to stop. Crowley untied you and ungagged you, holding you in his arms and petting your hair.
♡ "I recall you saying you found Crewel handsome. Was it everything you ever wished for? Are you satisfied with him? or have you learned your lesson?" although he was gently stroking your hair, the frown on his lips was enough to tell you this punishment was for that purpose. Your answer would determine his mood, that much you knew.
♡ You nodded in response, choking out a feeble cry "I'm sorry, I won't say it again. You're the only one that can pleasure me, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." As you babbled your apologies, Crowley smiled and kissed the top of your head, and carrassed your body.
♡ "Good...I'm sorry I had to punish you like that, my little crow. I promise to make it up to you. How about a fancy meal tonight? Hmm? I'll take you to the expensive one you like. Kind of me, isn't it?"
♡ It was twisted and messed up, you knew this. You knew it was just a way to ensnare you, another way to keep you bound to him. You've convinced yourself that he had your best interests in mind, for although he would subject you to ridiculous punishments... He would also treat you like you were the most precious cut of an expensive gem.
A vicious cycle, indeed.
♡ You nodded feebly, Crowley smiling and lifting you in his arms. Gone in a puff of smoke, he took you to bathe in warm water and give you that sly smile and gentle facade that always draws you back in.
~~
#twisted wonderland smut#twst smut#twst x reader smut#Yandere#Yandere twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland yandere#Yandere general Lilia#General Lilia x reader smut#Jade leech x reader smut#yandere fic#dead dove do not eat
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IT’S YOU, HAPPY ALL THE TIME ─── jonathan breech ✧☾𖦹
ೃ⁀➷ “I ask Jessica what drowning feels like and she says not everything feels like something else." — ‘Jessica gives me a chill pill’, Angie Sijun Lou.
pairing. jonathan breech x reader
summary. you’ve bared your heart to your bestfriend, jonathan, more times than you can count, whilst knowing practically nothing at all about him. what is friendship if it is not equal… what is love if it is not returned? can your relationship survive such one-sidedness?
warnings. swearing, TW mention & description of suicide/attempts & depression, very introspective/kind of a character study???, alcohol & drug use, pining, ANGST!!!!, crying, fluff, smut with feelings, p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex (f), SMUT UNDER THE CUT!
word count. 10k (WTF??!?!!??)
a/n. the title is from “she won’t go away” by faye webster:) btw this is… rly angsty (and SO long omg im still in shock) so beware🫡 ALSO IM SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING IN WHILE!! SCHOOL IS KICKING MY BUTT & THIS FIC WAS AN ABSOLUTE MONSTER TO WRITE LMAO
i.
There are very few words in your vocabulary you can use to accurately describe Jonathan Breech.
The boy is an enigma, a matryoshka doll that never ends: he is witty and lighthearted and sarcastic, but you’ll always catch that edge, the air of malaise he carries around himself, the unspoken elephant in the room that screams WHO ARE YOU REALLY?
He had always been more of a figure, a landscape; something to witness, observe-- experience without letting it do the same to you. You don’t know if that’s something you want, either: there’s an imbalance in his hilarity, and he always takes things a step too far. Jonathan lights matches and lets them burn all the way down to his fingertips; he shaves and lets the blade leave stinging little nicks, rivulets of blood running down his neck; he chainsmokes cigarettes in his room and only opens the window when he feels his heart hammering in his chest, desperate for air.
You meet him — or, first experience him in a similar fashion: he had been in the university library, standing on top of a creaky, old bookshelf, shouting something you couldn’t understand over the music blasting through your headphones. You could certainly see him though, gesturing animatedly, dressed eccentrically in his signature winter trapper hat and a velvet blazer. That thin, effeminate figure of his was making winding, marionette-ish steps along the wood, an action that had everyone readying themselves to catch his inevitable fall.
Then, seemingly out of nowhere and catching you completely off guard, you caught his eye. He began stepping from one shaky shelf to the next, a complete miracle none of them toppled over, before stopping on one close enough for you to read his lips.
“Hi,” he mouthed, shifting uneasily on his left foot before regaining a steady balance, “you’re in my class, right?”
You nodded, hesitantly— yes, truthfully, you’d seen him in your Introduction to Literary Studies course a couple of weeks ago, sporting the same outfit as he did now, but you thought nothing of him. He’d been generally well-behaved then, asking slightly odd but in-tune questions that more or less answered all your inquiries, so you didn’t think the guy would have a penchant for, well… book-shelf hopping.
He grinned, about to say something else, before something — or someone, made him flinch. A professor, probably, considering the unintelligibly muffled, booming voice behind you. However, Jonathan made quick work of the situation, sneakily climbing down and escaping out the door.
The next time you see him, he’s sidled up beside you in your shared class. “Mind if I sit here?” a familiar voice had asked, to which you murmured a non-committal knock y’self out, before realizing with wide eyes. His presence had caught you off-guard, as he so often did, and you sensed a pattern blooming.
Jonathan certainly made for an odd desk-partner; his personality warped the environment around you, and it was suddenly so much easier to tear your eyes away from the lecture and land on Jonathan’s own. It’s something you never thought you’d ever do, because you adore the material being taught.
At the end of class, he asks you out for a drink: he’s just found the best Irish stout in the entire city, and what better way to make it known than to take anyone and everyone he knows there?
Rejection is written on your face clear as day— you have class tomorrow, an essay that needs to be finished, and honestly, pubs just aren’t really your scene.
But in the end… you still bite. You can’t help it: he’s disarming and warm and looks like he should smell like a bonfire. Somehow, that just does it for your brain; it’s here you learn of the charm that is Jonathan Breech.
That night goes everything and nothing like you expected: you expected not to be able to predict his actions, and that’s exactly what happens. When you meet Jonathan at the aforementioned pub, it’s not actually the one he’s meaning to take you to— it’s just the closest public place to the on-campus dorm, which is where he says he’s rooming.
“‘ve got a neighbor m’pretty sure is trying to sleep with me,” he says absently, ushering you onto the back of his bike, which had been leaning against a NO PARKING sign. “He’s always toget’er wit’ our dorm advisor, so I should l reject him before I get kicked out, if y’get what I mean.”
Now, you honestly should’ve expected this from a guy who jumped from six-foot book shelves, but Jonathan’s biking is all swift turns and jilted stops, mere milliseconds from repeatedly running red lights. You want to ask if he just learned how to ride the thing yesterday, but can’t, not with how utterly reckless and shameless he is about it, his terrible steering making you instinctively wrap your arms around his chest.
You clutch him tightly, making him hum in approval, and you feel your ears burn flusteredly. You would’ve pulled away, but then he cut from the right lane to the left in one swift move, barely missing several cars, and you practically shrieked instead. “Oh my god!”
“Sorry,” he apologizes quickly. You can’t see his face, having shut your eyes in fear, but after hearing the blatant cheekiness in his tone, you can imagine clear as day how gleefully it contorts. You want to slap him somewhere, anywhere, but that’d defeat the point of being mad at his recklessness, so you squeeze him tighter instead, and he chokes on his breath. “Jesus-- m’sorry, really!”
When the two of you make it to the pub — alive and uninjured! — annoyingly all the way across town, your first few steps off his bike are stuttered, dizzy: “We are-- not going by bike next time,” you gasp, leaning against a random brick wall.
“Next time, eh?” He grins, and this time you really do slap him— just on the arm, bless your self-control and niceties not to beat this oddly comfortable-to-be-around near-stranger to death.
The pub, with its forgettable name and dingy stools, has a minimal, lackluster crowd. A kitschy neon sign flickers and dies as you walk in, making you raise a brow, but Jonathan merely drags you by the arm to a cozy corner table, then disappearing deeper within the venue before returning moments later with two pints of black beer in tow.
“Go on, then,” he gestures, setting the tall glass on the table, sitting down in the chair in front of you and taking a hearty sip of his own drink.
You let out a little hesitant sigh at his words, before relenting and taking in a long gulp of the liquid. “…Huh,” you remark, impressed. Jonathan smiled knowingly behind his glass, letting out a smug little ah, you see?
“Worth the long ride?” he inquired innocently, as if that was the only thing wrong with the night.
“Worth the ride, but not worth almost dying for,” you rolled your eyes goodheartedly, knocking back the rest of the bitter drink and making him whistle.
The rest of the night goes like this: Jonathan orders two more rounds of the quality Irish stout before the two’ve you are stumbling out of the pub, exploring all the nightlife there is to offer, like the crowd surrounding an out-door live comedy group performing down the street that has you and Jonathan giggling for hours after, or the underground speakeasy you accidentally find yourselves shoved into, a nasally guitarist singing on a smoky stage, several more drinks finding themselves in your system despite how nauseous you already feel.
“You-- d’you fancy him?” Jonathan slurs behind you, steadying himself by pressing his hands to your waist.
“F-fancy who?” you blink blearily, leaning into his warm touch.
“Who else m’I talkin’ about, girl? The singer!”
You shake your head no numbly, practically collapsing into his arms now, your head lulling on his chest. You’re so close you can smell the distinct scent of his skin, that unique musk everyone has, and it’s strangely familiar, like those smells that evoke old, nostalgic memories. It’s like how sunscreen summons the smell of the sun after a childhood beach day, or how vanilla extract takes you back to the smell of your mother’s baked goods on a specific winter evening.
“Reckoned you wouldn’t,” he assumes, hands coming away from your waist to wrap his arms around your shoulders, swaying to the music slightly in the crowded club, “looks like a -- right bleedin’ dope… wit’ that mop of hair.”
You giggle, alcohol riddled beyond belief, unable to formulate a response with the conflicting blurry thoughts in your head: it’s telling you Jonathan Breech isn’t the crowd you want, that you need to go home and work, that you let loose too easily— but it also tells you that you can see yourself becoming friends with him very, very quickly.
It’s there, in that club, Jonathan Breech moves into your life and fills a gaping hole you didn’t know existed, like a hole in your stockings you only notice when you get home. You have friends, certainly, more than you can count on both hands, but they never get as close as Jonathan does. After that night, an unknown force pulls the two of you together, making you run into him everywhere, and a tight friendship blooms like a lilypad in a raging storm; beauty within the chaos. In the multitude of close friendships you’ve harbored, he is the first to see so many sides of you. The last thing that did was your mother; it had only ever been your mother.
He is an endearing, amazing friend, both the intent listener and the charismatic speaker all at once; he knows his friends like the back of his hand, can recount their life like he can count the number of moles on his face-- but you, and everyone else, know absolutely nothing about him.
At least, close to nothing-- you know he likes ice cream and hanging out and going to the pub; you know he likes biking and doing drugs and women; you know he hates the sea and his brother and his father, but you don’t know him. All you’ve ever seen him do is smile or laugh or shout in mock anger; there is a carefully glued mask on his face he takes meticulous caution in preserving-- he is terrified to let go, despite the blasé persona he lets on.
Or maybe the mysterious matter of your bestfriend is tripping you up for no reason; maybe you’re psychoanalyzing something that doesn’t need to be psychoanalyzed, reading between lines that don’t exist. But if you were asked to answer honestly, there’s just something about Jonathan you don’t get. There is a split seam in the tapestry of his life, missing pieces in the story he pretends to tell with utmost accuracy. There are things that he never talks about, that he recoils when asked like you’ve poked a tender wound.
“So, what were you doing before… all this?” You ask him once, laying on his messy bed in his dorm-room and scanning the water-damage constellations dotted along his popcorn ceiling. By all this you mean going to university, being the resident party boy, aimlessly pursuing a degree you’re 99% sure he picked blindfolded (culinary science) and standing here, with you, snorting a line of something on his creaky wooden desk.
Jonathan freezes, still hunched over. “What d’you-- what d’you mean?” he says, tone breezy but, uncharacteristically tense… jilted and preoccupied. You could’ve brushed it off as him being seriously focussed on his drugs, but the way he shifts, how his shoulders curl in like he wants to disappear, tells you otherwise.
“I mean, before going to school here… y’know, what were you like as a dumb teenager?”
You two’re twenty, barely not-teenagers, but it still makes a world of a difference: you’re living away from home, doing what you want, experiencing (a juvenile, naive version of) freedom and adulthood.
“I dunno… kind of a tool, that's f’sure,” he chuckled, rubbing his nose roughly. He’s being funny on purpose, a jester’s distraction: he doesn’t want you to realize his answers’ not really one at all.
You shifted on his bed, now leaning against his headboard. His answer strikes you as odd and uncharacteristic despite his attempts to evade suspicion: usually, Jonathan pounces at the chance to yap on and on. “What, the great Jonathan Breech doesn’t have any wild stories to tell? No bones broken, girls dumped, houses trashed?”
He snorted at that, like some inside joke you weren’t privy to was brought up in your words, and he descended back down on a carefully partitioned line of white. “I broke my baby finger once,” he relented vaguely when he finished, dusting off the table and licking the remains off his hand. “I cried and I cried and I cried.”
“Did it hurt that much?” you grinned, mind trailing off to imagine a baby-faced Jonathan Breech, a juvenile highschool boy, doing something silly to break that finger. Maybe he accidentally flung off his bike, broke it because of a dare, or maybe it happened just by slipping and falling.
“It - uh… didn’t hurt enough,” Jonathan smiled, tight-lipped and paltry. All at once the air in the room had changed, like someone attached a vacuum to the window and sucked everything out.
Your grin fell, and you watched him carefully: perhaps, had you not been as close to him as you were, he’d have let something show. A twitch in the smile, a break in the facade. But you were, and his face stayed the same, and your thoughts ran circles around themselves. This was… something else, something belonging to the part of his life he didn’t talk about.
The atmosphere had grown tense, taut, a rubber band twisted ‘round and round, threatening to burst, so you leave the matter of his injury alone; of his life alone. You go back to staring at his ceiling, he goes back to his drugs; Jonathan collapses within himself, and you don’t notice how badly he suffocates… how suffering in silence is also accompanied by the overwhelming desire to be found.
ii.
Sometimes, despite his self-imposed distance, Jonathan lets someone look inside his head.
You are both the sometimes and the someone; you don’t know why it’s always you, but you chalk it up to the fact that beneath his unpredictable demeanor, the murky and unreadable feelings he holds for others, is this uncharacteristic constant: he holds a softness for you. It’s what lets you know there’s something haunted lurking beneath his happy-go-lucky surface.
You don’t know where this softness comes from, either. But you know you see it, in lingering touches, tender duchenne smiles unlike the devilish tilt his lips usually hold, how he clasps his hand around yours after a night at the pub and walks you home because he knows you get paranoid. You see it in how he comes over to your apartment when you don’t answer anyone's calls during exam season, how he remembers what your mother’s name is and what your childhood pet was and what your favorite flowers are. How his lips brush past your cheek when he pulls away from hugs, his hands shuddering around your shoulders, like he’s afraid he’ll crush you.
You only wish you could do the same. You want to sit by his side and mend his heart, lend an ear to his most mundane fears, you want to take his hand into your own and kiss it softly, return all that he has done for you, take the same as you have given to him: what is friendship if it is not equal, what is love if it is not returned? It is something broken, unable; split halves of one heart, an imbalance in the scale, Bonnie without her Clyde, a fish out of water.
Jonathan pours his heart into your own, filling holes you know you don’t have, and you think he may be overcompensating for something else, seeing things in you that really belong to him. It is maddening, and you just want to beg and plead he lets you in.
But you settle for the gentle pokes, the prodding, and try to decipher the vague answers he gives you. Most days, you can’t really make sense of it.
“Sorry,” you apologize, about to leave the outing you planned with Jonathan — studying, or, trying to study, at an intimate coffeebar the two of you frequented — “my dad’s gotten drunk with his lads and my mum needs help dragging him home.”
“Hey, hey, don’t worry. I get it: my dad used to do that all the time,” he waves your words off casually, but you don’t miss how jilted he says used to and the pain in his tone at all the time.
“Oh, surely she was fit to go to the madhouse?” you laughed once, responding to Jonathan’s complaints about an eccentric classmate in his agricultural studies. He laughs back, he always does, but this one is hollow, forced; barely stopping a grimace from coloring his tone.
You notice these things like it’s a shadow following someone in the sun. He is lying, hiding; about something you don’t know but it is happening. It is happening, and you are so very curious: you pick up on the littlest tendrils of him, fed wholly on any information you can squeeze out. He is a mystery you want to delve within completely; answer that question of WHO ARE YOU REALLY? and leave no room for error.
You’d give yourself to him the very same if he merely asked; you’d whisper childhood fears and tell the origin stories of faded scars on your knees and why you check under your bed before sleeping. You’d detail your entire life from sunset birth to starry night end if he even made a passing comment about knowing; you would trust your love, your heart, your entire life in his beautiful, shaky hands. This is the relationship you have built around yourselves, and it is beginning to feel terribly one-sided.
Alas, your curiosity overwhelms him, and you take it too far, just once. Only once.
“Where’d this come from?” you murmur, brushing your fingers over a scar above his eyebrow. It’s something you see only now, his hair mussed and wild from the various blankets and pillows on your dinky couch.
He’s crashing at your apartment tonight, an invited event, because you often miss him like you miss home; the boy is sneaky— he slinks away like a street cat and only comes back for food. It’s only fair he lets you wrangle him back like this, making him stay by your side at least once a week.
Your words make him freeze, like he often does; it reminds you of hikers, who freeze when they see mountain lions— he thinks if he stops and stares and pretends to disappear you’ll look the other way, drop the question, forget him completely.
But you don’t. You don’t know what’s affecting him -- not that he wants you to -- so you just stare back into his cornflower blue eyes. You stop and stare and see right through him; you hold the question like a knife to his neck, and commit him to memory.
“The scar?” Jonathan pales, shuddering despite it having long since been healed over. The aftershocks of an earthquake.
You simply nod, fingers pulling away. You’re still closer than ever though, the two of you being the only things in your cramped concrete apartment, the chosen movie on your telly still running and long forgotten.
Your attention remains on him, brandished into something dangerous, like you’ll carve the answer out of him if you have to— but the moment passes. He doesn’t say anything and you accept that as the answer. Gone is your razor-sharp focus, and there is nothing more to the matter.
But Jonathan doesn’t register this, no, he’s thinking, gears in his head turning and creaking. His tongue grazes against the backs of his teeth, jaw chattering like it was as cold as it was when… as cold as it was back then, and he doesn’t want to tell anyone— but it’s you. You’re not just anyone.
You’re the one he holds a certain softness for. The one he equally bares his heart to and holds the most secrets from. The one he’s most terrified to know. The only one he wants to know.
So, he decides to tell a partial truth— something digestible. People adore that which can easily slide down the gullet: news headlines don’t detail the goriness of a murder, they give the “insider” scoop of the scared neighbor. To be able to digest information is what makes the world go round, and he does not think you could digest the full truth-- he does not think he wants you to.
He feels ill at the thought of anything between you changing— oh, how ruined he’d feel if you began treating him like fucking glass.
This abhorrent social pressure is what makes Jonathan grit this sentence through his teeth: “I got into a car accident,” he gulps dry, “when I was nineteen. Was drunk… went fer a spin. I skidded off a -- um, an empty highway. The tall sorts; high up, y’know. Fell.”
His voice makes you look back up at him, and your eyes are beautiful and tense— it breaks his heart. He knows you’re probably thinking it was in-character, how expected that is of Jonathan Breech, how you’ll easily take this partial truth, how you’ll never know the full one until it comes in a letter under your door and he’s long gone.
“Tell me,” you ask him, lips falling into a near-frown instead of laughing or grinning wider. It’s hushed, whispered like a secret, “What did it feel like? Falling, I mean.”
Jonathan licks his lips, bores his shaking gaze into your own, and tells you not everything feels like something else. That the word connotes all you need to know. Falling meant he was falling; his arms raised and the air took him and that was it.
It makes your brows twist and your lips press into a thin line: his nonchalance is worrying, no more his signature characteristic— there is something wrong about this apathy toward injury, toward the potential death.
“Is that how you broke your finger?” You murmur, and it startles him. How you pieced the two things together, how you weaved a web from what little you knew about him; how futile his attempts to hide could be.
“What?” he responds, hoarse. There is a lurking shadow in his bones telling him he’ll taint you, telling him to be ashamed, telling him how badly you will never be his. It is such a damning reality, that no matter how much he may yearn for you, he is too incomplete to meet your needs; he is too hurt not to hurt you too.
“The car accident. Is that how you broke your pinkie?” you repeat, and you gripped his hand resting at your side, bringing it up to present the finger to him like he forgot where his pinkie was.
Jonathan’s gaze darts from you to the finger, and he feels his insides quiver; so badly does he want to spill his entire soul to you. But that internal reminder -- hurt people hurt people hurt people -- makes him settle for nodding, parted lips locking closed.
Nothing special happens that night, no shocking revelation or bombarded confession; Jonathan nods, keeps his lips sealed, and gets up from the couch, figure dreary and fatigued. He murmurs an incomplete excuse, something half-baked and blatantly unconvincing that he has to leave, and you let him go. You think you’re imagining the shudder in his shoulders, the shake in his voice as he says goodbye, and you let him go.
It’s there, like that club so long ago, you discover another thing about Jonathan Breech: push too far and he shuts down, closes shop and puts up his guard forever. It’s the mere fact of how attentive you are to his words; you remember how he broke his finger, and he realizes he cannot hide from you any longer.
You’re reaching a point in your friendship -- your relationship, no matter platonic or romantic for all lines have been crossed; nobody is so raw to one another with love not involved -- where you’ll bare your hearts on your sleeves, share your every thought and dream and fear. But Jonathan won’t be able to reciprocate, and the very thought of rejecting you, betraying you, makes his stomach twist in knots. That crestfallen face of yours would haunt him for all time, your every melancholy feature burning into his memory like the scars left by cigarettes on skin.
So he leaves, hurt people hurt people hurt people echoes in his ears all the way home; he turns into an alleyway shortcut and prays death swoops down and takes him right there. He leaves his consciousness curled lovingly in your arms; his shell walks home and prays you’re none the wiser. But you’ve already reached that point in your relationship; you already know.
When people die, or friendships do, sometimes they end with just a goodbye, a mild, casual goodbye because you think there’ll be dozens, hundreds more-- but there won’t be. Suddenly, alone in that cramped apartment, the buzzing from the tv filling your ears, your couch still warm from someone long gone, you know.
You know you startled him, that he’s left your apartment and he’ll never come back. Your heart cools, and she whispers that you took it too far, that you crossed a line you were never made aware of, that when you see him in class tomorrow he might not sit next to you, he might not talk to you, that you might lose him forever because he is too stubborn to open up and you are too stubborn to let him go.
Well, you were too stubborn to let him go.
It’s three weeks before you speak to Jonathan again. Three long, dragging weeks, moments in time where he avoided your gaze, evaded your presence, slipped past you before you got too close. You certainly try, of course— you seek him out every chance you get, trying to get an I’m sorry, please talk to me out before he runs off, but it’s virtually impossible.
Once, after class, you’d caught him in the middle of a flurry of exiting students by the velvet blazer, your hands curled around the lapel. “Jonathan,” you panted, trying to drag him off to the side to escape the bustling activity around you, “please, we need to talk--“
But then Jonathan had faced you, eyes widened and spooked like he’d seen a ghost, a never-before-seen-by-you fear covering his gracefully cut features, before he tugged off the black blazer and escaped into the crowd. He had seen you, widened his eyes, left. Such a simple action tore your heart in two; it had confirmed your suspicions— you’d gone too far, he was never coming back, and you were all alone. There you stood, fingers wrapped around one of his favorite articles of clothing starkly without its beloved owner, completely alone.
In three measly weeks, he has put up a biting winter of distance between you two.
Your feelings are unable to comprehend themselves— they fight and sob and run circles around your mind, they make you doubt, crumble, devour yourself from the inside out; they make you ask yourself what you can do to salvage this, what can you do to fix this? What is there to make of him, of his behavior; what do you do with yourself and this guilt?
If you could imagine time was a construct, you were certain you could convince yourself this stretch of time was nothing… propel yourself into a present where Jonathan does not afflict your mind, take over your every thought— does not ruin you like so. If only you could do that, you could close your eyes and reopen them when you’ve let go. But you were always too stubborn to let him go, weren’t you?
It’s three weeks to the day before you speak to Jonathan again, and it happens through the crack of his dorm door, your arm wedged through it because you know he is not cruel; he will let you in without a doubt.
“Please,” you plead to Jonathan, “just— I just want to talk. Please?”
He stares at you straight, expression cold and reserved, before he breaks and pulls away; bites his lip, lets you in his room, doesn’t look you in the eye. Looking around, you sense something in his dorm has changed; it had gained a bereft quality, like it was attuned to Jonathan’s state of mind and felt depressed beyond your comprehension. There was a cold air to the place, an utmost frigid demeanor to a room incredibly warm just weeks prior. In your absence, the dorm had been neglected, gutted, abandoned.
“I’m sorry,” are the first words that tumble out of your mouth. “I- I know you don’t like… talking about -- about your life before here, and I’m sorry. But please, Jonathan, just talk to me. Tell me what I can do to make it up to you.”
He sits down on the edge of his weak bedframe, pulling his knees up and pressing his face into them. “You don’t need to-- don’t… don’t apologize. You don’t need t’make it better, either. All’s grand.” he promises, words muffled and shaky. It’s a weeping kind of tone; you could just as easily imagine him sobbing with that voice.
Your brows knit. Your emotions are wavering, treading brutally between disbelief, despair and rancor. “Then -- then why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you avoid me? Why did you - why did we spend these last three weeks playing cat and mouse, if you weren’t mad at me? Is this your sick idea of a joke?”
“No! I-- jesus christ,” Jonathan looked up from his hands before immediately pressing two fingers between his eyes, “I wasn’t … avoiding you.”
“I haven’t seen you in weeks!” you point out painfully, exasperated. “You know, you’ve been avoiding me for longer than this. You— you push me away any chance you get. You’re afraid. I don’t know of what, but you’re- so fucking secretive, and it’s tearing me apart.”
“I’m not - afraid of anything. I’m just a private person— you know this. Would you, if I ‘pushed you away?!’”
At his denying deflection, something within you snaps: “Why won’t you - fucking let me in? I’ve — I’ve bared my soul to you; you know me from the inside out. I trust you with my life— why, why can’t you do the same?”
“I didn’t ask you to do that! And I didn’t — I didn’t mean t’get so close to you, okay?!” He bursts, and you flinch. His hands shakily come up to his face once more; he wipes roughly but it’s no use— you’ve already seen his delicate tears threatening to spill, and it burns more holes in your heart than you thought his suffering would.
“What are you talking about?” you pry, now without any cautious reservations about his demeanor.
“I didn’t mean to get so fucking attached, because - ‘cause I…” Jonathan’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, “fuck.”
“What?” you repeat, but it’s softer, concerned; how quickly his body language shifted from irritated to terrified has you scrambling to support him. “Talk to me,” you ask, taking nervous steps closer, like you were approaching a wounded animal.
He sucks in a sharp breath, and holds it, like he did cigarette smoke, before exhaling heavily. “Okay- okay. When I was - nineteen, I drove a car… I drove off a cliff and tried t’kill myself. I was-- admitted to a psychiatric hospital for a year, and when I got out I moved here f’school. I- I… promised m’self I wouldn’t let anyone get too close.”
The confession hangs in the air, a lonely little thing; it’s a bleeding piece of his own heart he’s plucked and placed in your palms. He shudders, and you want to nurture it like nothing else. This is a culmination of a year’s worth of evasion coming to a close; you’re seeing him completely, rawly, for the first time.
“But- but why? You don’t have to— Jonathan, you don’t need to do that just because you - you… y’know.”
“I’m- I know that,” he starts brashly, defensively. “It’s b’cause I am very, very aware of my - of m’own self destructiveness…” His words taper off into something of grief; the Sisyphean struggle of wanting to live, while that depressive boulder pushes him back, colors him completely. “I just… I didn’t want to - t’hurt anyone in case I -- in case next time I succeeded.”
“Next time?” you repeat, and your voice broke in a way you wish was less vulnerable, less blatantly miserable.
“This is why I didn’t want to—“ Jonathan sighs, deflates, “I’m not telling you this because I want you to - t’fucking save me, okay? I’m telling you this because you wanted to know, and I couldn’t hide from you anymore. Because you asked.”
“You didn’t need t’hide it in the first place!” you exclaimed, coming closer to him. “You’ve never had to hide a fucking ‘ting from me.”
“You wouldn’t have understood!” He said back, volume nearing a shout. “You’ll treat me differently now, you see, you’ll look at me fuckin’ different—“
It made your heart sink-- how sure his words were, how certain he was of your rejection. How little trust did he have in you?
(You remember he wanted to sink, too-- lose himself in the baby blue sea; let it swallow him whole and never be seen again.)
“You - you really think I’ll treat y’differently because of this? You know my every crevice, my every thought-- I have never once doubted that you’ll accept me.”
“I-I… why should I - expect any of this to stay the same?”
Suddenly, you took his face into your hands. “Because I-- I fucking love you, okay? And it’s not just friendly, or romantic, even if it’s both— I’m… I love you like nothing I’ve ever loved before. I accept and adore your every skill and flaw and antic; you wormed your way into my heart and I want to worm my way into yours.”
“That doesn’t mean—“ Jonathan tried to interject, a noise all utter disbelief. You cut him off, though, continuing your sudden confession; you hadn’t been privy to these own romantic feelings of yours till moments prior, but everything being said just felt right.
“Jonathan, I don’t care if you drove a car off a cliff or cyanide-poisoned our professor or blew something up, because I love you. You, with all your problems and great, big, beautiful life. All I want is for you to want that life; I want you to want me in it. I feel it in my bones that I’m meant to love you; you are meant to be my home, you are everything I am supposed to know. It won’t fix you or fix anything at all but I just need you to know-- I need you to know the why to my every action. It’s because I love you.”
He looked up at you, wide-eyed, head resting in your gentle hold. “I - don’t know what to say… are you - for real?”
“As real as can be,” you smiled back at him, tracing circles along his smooth skin; you could’ve drank in that attentive stare of his for hours upon hours. “I love you, and nothing and no-one, not even you, can change that.” An aching grip had clenched around your heart at his words, that blatant disbelief: are you for real? God, had you ever been-- had you ever fucking been.
Jonathan’s mouth opened to speak, but instead, he let out an agonizing sort of cry; an exclamation of utter surprise at the loving acceptance. Then, he hesitantly leaned into your touch, as if he’d never hugged before, wrapping his arms around your waist to snatch you as close to him as possible. He held you tighter and tighter as the seconds went by, like this was all a mocking dream his yearning mind had made up; that if he closed his eyes now he’d wake up desolate, alone, without you for eternity. His worst nightmare.
“…God, I’m so - fucking stupid,” he grumbled, sounding angry, but you could feel vulnerable, hot tears soaking into the fabric of your shirt. “To assume you, of all people, would act that way… you of all people.” He said that tenderly; you of all people certainly meant miles more things you weren’t explicitly aware of, but you still felt the sentiment. “I’m not -- poetic or anything like that… but I love you, too.”
You chuckled a beautiful, wet laugh. “You don’t hafta’ say anything sweet or special. You’re everything to me.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, before wrapping his fingers around your wrist and pulling you onto the mattress with him. He flipped you beneath him, and held himself up by the forearms laying on either side of your head. “Fuck, I love you. I love you.” Jonathan repeated the words several more times, strange and foreign but right at home being said to you. Like his mouth was made to only ever say I love you to you.
Suddenly, you pressed your lips to his, shutting him up momentarily. You could still feel the vibrations of I love you rumbling in his throat as you kissed him. Your tongues danced along one another, an all consuming waltz; you wanted to know everything about him, down to the taste of his tongue, memorize how sweet his mouth felt on yours. Oh, how you longed for this moment; how could you ever think about love again, and yearn for it, without thinking of Jonathan?
You reckoned that’s what this had been the whole time; your love started as a little flame, something under the guise of friendship, but the two of you had fanned it, nurtured it-- all of a sudden the miniature warmth of platonic love burst into a raging, adoring fire. You’d fed this flame with tenderness, and it responded in kind; you could never again look at Jonathan without a certain intimate reverie. Perhaps that’d been why Jonathan found it so hard to cut off this relationship as he had dozens others: something primal and unconscious within him had begged him not to let you go— some higher being knew his home was only ever in your arms.
Jonathan deepened the kiss hungrily, pressing his weight onto you and pushing you into the mattress. Your head was spinning from the lack of air, and one of your hands had to sneak beneath his hat and tug at his hair to get him to stop. “Hey,” you panted, looking worriedly into his eyes, “what’s up?”
“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, hanging his head lowly for a moment before meeting your gaze once more, batting his long lashes. “Jus’ missed you. Thas’ all.”
“Missed y’too,” you murmured, pulling him back down to kiss you again. Your hands left the crown of his head and trailed down his backside, tracing over the curves and bumps of his frumpy yellow v-neck sweater.
That touch of yours seemed to spur him on even more, and his kisses began to travel; along your jaw, to your pulse, down the long ravine of your neck, tongue darting out to lick the hollow of your collarbone, making you squeal. He chuckled against your skin, a genuine amusement rather than the mocking one you two so frequently practiced, and it all went downhill from there. His hands skillfully tugged off your tank top, knee between your clenched thighs, more teasing kisses being planted along your now bare -- save for your bra -- chest.
You didn’t mean to come over, profess your love and suddenly jump into a steamy, yearning makeout session (which, you were pretty sure was venturing off into sex…) but you supposed that apologizing— arguing, whatever —meant your relationship went back on track to wherever it was heading… which may have been set to end with an ardor romance anyway. This love of yours would’ve bursted at the seams of friendship; it could not be confined by such mere things as labels.
“Fuck,” you groaned, arching into his teasing kisses along the peaks of your breasts, his hands ghosting around your clothed chest but never touching. “Please, Jon.”
You could feel his cheeky grin on your skin, “Tell me what you want, love.”
“…Take this off,” you demanded gently, referring to Jonathan’s sweater.
“Your wish is my command.” he snickered, obliging and removing the yellow knit-- as well as his white undershirt and pajama bottoms. He was left in a pair of boxer-shorts and that silly, silly winter-trapper hat, his fingers sneaking up to your supple thighs and tickling the edges of your jean-shorts; a silent plea.
“Eager,” you mumbled, noticing his over-compliance in completely stripping, smiling and guiding his hands to the waistband of your shorts to tug the tight article off.
When he did so, you shivered, both at the feeling of being only in your underwear, as well as Jonathan’s sharp, attentive gaze. “You’re so beautiful,” he panted, eyes exploring your every sweet feature.
He was enamored with your bare body, not in a sexual way despite the blatantly sexual situation, but rather in a worshiping, religiously devoted way. It may’ve been blasphemous to think so, but Jonathan’s sudden chaste kisses along the curve of waist only seemed to prove you right; his mouth on you was gentle, like he’d held you before, except now without any guilt or hesitation. It was a holy way of loving you; something all-consuming, becoming the epicenter of a life, becoming the purpose, motivation, and belief all at once.
That familiar broiling in your gut occurred as he made his way closer to the pulsing, lace-covered place between your legs; your hands were gripping the sheets tightly in pure anticipation, his hot breath on your sensitive skin. “Don’t be such a tease,” you pouted, legs fumbling for purchase along his body, trying to pull him closer to you.
“We’ve got all the time in the world,” he hummed, but his fingers still curled into the band of your baby-blue panties and dragged them down in one desperate go, “but I do wanna taste you….”
Jonathan’s veiny hands pried your quivering thighs apart, murmuring an offhand already stole y’panties, don’t get all shy on me now when you whimpered flusteredly, before he descended on your dripping lips, licking a flat-tongued stripe up to your clit.
You gasped at the sudden action, but it quickly morphed into a choked moan when he pressed himself further and parted your lips, nose to your pelvic bone; he made quick work of you, artfully curling his long tongue into your hole and slurping your slick.
“So sweet,” he praised, the vibrations of his voice making your thighs clench around his head. He hummed in amusement at your reaction, lapping you up quicker; he kitten-licked and slobbered, feeding on your sticky cunt, tongue darting in every direction, feeling your walls and prying deeper into your hot hole, which ached for the cock straining against the mattress now. The bottom half of Jonathan’s face was now positively soaked, glistening with his own drool and your needy wetness, all of it mixing dirtily and sliding down the length of his neck.
“Jon!” you mewled, hands tearing off his trapper hat and flinging it elsewhere before curling your hands into his mousy brown hair and pushing his face deeper into your pussy, desperate to come. You were riding his face now — or, attempting to, more accurately bucking up into him — adoring his unceasing ministrations. He was basically fucking you with his tongue, overstimulating your clit with teasing licks then pulling away, feeling along the ridges of your walls.
“Pick m’hat up later, love,” he tutted, pulling away slightly to see where you’d haphazardly thrown it, and your desperate whine neared a sob. He breathed in sharply, taking in how quickly he’d undone you: in a matter of minutes, your expression had grown wanton, eyes blown out, drooling, hair askew, bra riding up your tits and revealing your sweet, puffy nipples.
Jonathan quickly forgot about the state of his beloved hat, and went back down on you, mouth devouring in full force once again. You rolled your hips forward, and when he pulled his tongue out of your wet hole to suckle softly on your fleshy nub, your eyes rolled back into your head and your legs shook around his face, toes curling tightly. A choked moan left you alongside the sudden climax, sounding a hundred percent pornographic and all for him.
You panted, silent and unmoving for a moment, and Jonathan began moving to get up and let you take a breather before continuing, absolutely terrified to push you too far or do anything you didn’t want to do— he was the spontaneous one, and you were the responsible one, but that didn’t mean he ever wanted to force anything upon you. His simultaneous decisions were made mostly in part with your interests in mind; he made the decisions you were too nervous and over-thinking to choose quicker.
However, you took a long breath, then trailed your hand over the painfully noticeable bulge within his soft boxers. “Wan’… make you feel good,” you murmured, flattening your hand against his erection.
Jonathan inhaled sharply, pitifully affected by the minor touch but holding back with an incredible amount of self restraint. “I can wait,” he offered sweetly, one of his hands coming up to your flattened hand’s forearm to rub the skin.
You shook your head foggily, cupping him through the fabric, slowly adding friction by sliding your hand up and down.
“S-shit,” he bit his lip, “you want this now, baby?”
You nodded vehemently with a whimper, and to make more of a point, you reached behind and unclasped your bra, tossing it elsewhere on his dirty dorm floor, before beginning to slip off his underwear.
The hand on your arm stopped you, though, in favor of doing it himself and pressing his weight further onto you, your chests flush with one another. You were only able to take in thin breaths, making your head spin, but it also amplified the arousal blooming in your cunt when Jonathan slotted himself at your soaking entrance, collecting his saliva and your slick on his tip.
Before he pushed in, however, his head dipped into the hollow of your neck, plush lips brushing past the shell of your ear. “Is this okay?” he murmured, pressing a wet kiss to your temple.
“Please,” you whined, hands pushing flat on his back to bring him closer to you.
With that, Jonathan slowly buried his length within your cunt, making your breath hitch. “I love you,” he groaned, entering you inch by inch, relishing how your warmth swallowed him whole. “Fuck, I love you so much.”
Your hole was stuffed beyond belief, but Jonathan was gentle with you, caressing your waist with the rough pads of his fingers and massaging you, trying to ease his entrance into something painless. Obviously, with that length and thickness it couldn’t be painless at all, but his attempts helped your mind drift off elsewhere and take some of the attention off the stinging stretch.
After a long moment of ragged breathing, Jonathan cooing words of praise into your neck as he kissed you without moving, you dug your fingers into the skin of his back: “More,” you choked out, the fullness in your cunt now feeling delicious rather than cringeworthy.
He smirked against your skin, “Looks like you’re t’eager one now.”
“Oh, get on with it,” you rasped and he let out a low chuckle, sliding out of your hole before thrusting back in. That first movement already made your hips jerk up into him, back arching. It was like all the warmth in your body had collected in your cunt, leaving you freezing from the tips of your toes to the top of your head, but still with a needy, burning fire in your insides.
Jonathan’s pace was affectionate and rhythmic: you could feel the tenderness in his each and every gentle roll of the hips. It made you feel like the sun, how attentive he was, but he was also so fucking slow. If anything, that had your walls clenching onto him harder than if he hammered into you— that slow build-up of friction was dizzying. You squirmed, cunt clenching and contracting around his smooth thrusts— you wanted to take him within you completely, cause more friction for you were going stir-crazy with this lazy speed.
“F-fuck! Faster, please,” you cried out, unable to take his sensual movements any longer. Your legs were twitching with his patient movements, and you could’ve sworn you saw a cheeky grin on his lips. The bastard— even in sex was he teasing you, wanting to torture you until you gave in to the pleasure and begged him to ruin you.
Sure, this was your first time together, and was going extremely pleasantly and sweetly, but you were actually pretty fond of the idea of letting him pound into you like there was no tomorrow…
At the lewd thought, your walls pulsed around his cock, making him buck up unintentionally, hitting that sweet spot within you. He grunted at the feeling of your tightened cunt, while you cried out his name, pleasure running like a current through your body. Your face was on fire, reminiscent of a raging fever, and your insides were coiling— god, how did his cock just feel so perfect within you?
“Oh,” he grinned in a pant, “found y’spot, didn’t I?”
Jonathan didn’t give you a chance to speak before he pulled out so far his tip was the only thing in your hole, before slamming back in and making your eyes roll to the back of your head. Props to him-- he hit your g-spot with utmost accuracy, and you let out a long, stuttered mewl, scratching at his freckled back, legs twitching. Your wail was almost catatonic, loud and cock-drunk, dripping unabashed, filthy pleasure.
“Makin’ such sweet noises f’me,” he praised huskily, hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead, “fuck, ‘ve gotta hear that again.”
He must’ve noticed your neediness earlier, when he was slow and languid, for the new speed he set was double- no, triple that: his hips were snapping against yours, balls smacking filthily against your lips, left hand pinning your hips down and letting him sink into you faster. Shocks of pleasure tore through you at the sudden increase in speed- he’d inured you so well to the torturously slow pace from earlier that this new frenzied one felt like getting hit by a bullet train. You were overstimulated and needing more of him all at once, practically vibrating with need under his touch.
“I’ve- hnngh- wanted this…” you gasped between moans, “f-for so long…”
“Wanted m’cock?” Jonathan questioned in a hiss, feeling with his every inch how your walls absolutely soaked him. His tone was, obviously, sarcastic, but it still made you feel incredibly lewd.
You shook your head numbly, “Wanted you… I love you, Jon!”
“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he purred, fucking you faster and making you writhe beneath him, “love you s’much.”
Jonathan targeted the spongy, swollen spot deep within your cunt, suddenly filled with a renewed vigor and motivation to make you come as quickly as possible, and he pounded into that one, specific spot, watching how you twitched and squirmed, heavy moans exiting you. He was relentless, hands reaching to hook under your knees and spread you wider.
At the new angle, his cock penetrated you even deeper, fuller, which you thought wasn’t possible with how goddamn full you already felt, but when his thick cockhead brushed up against your cervix you thought you were going to burst. Then, one of his hands came up to your tits to knead the flesh, and you squeaked when he tweaked your soft nipples. He was pawing at your sweet tits, fondling you in a needy, boyish way, like yours were the first pair of boobs he’d ever felt.
“M’close!” you gasped, mind going fuzzy with pure ecstacy. Your skin prickled with goosebumps, cold sweat running down your spine, a terribly stark in contrast feeling to the warmth buzzing under your skin.
“C-can’t last much longer either,” he choked, still pumping in and out of your sticky hole and savoring the feeling of your tight warmness on his long length. He looked absolutely exquisite above you, and you lost yourself in the ethereal picture. Maybe you were in love, or maybe he really was just an empyrean beauty; you took in the sight of his focussed iceberg blue eyes, the cute flush spreading along his pale cheeks and bare chest, how he bit his pink lips to muffle his needy grunts and moans.
Then, you mewled and convulsed around him, your walls spasming and contracting as you came undone, reaching the precipice of your pleasure. That made him fall off the edge— you had tensed all over- all over, and Jonathan couldn’t help how his hips stuttered, knees buckled, cock twitched; he only gave one last, powerful thrust into you before spilling himself inside of you. He painted your soft walls white, and you felt that familiar heat spreading within you; you welcomed it completely, and wanted such warmth to be there forever.
You milked him for every last drop, cunt like a vice grip, and Jonathan gave you another wet kiss, this time on your lips, and your hands wrapped around his neck, allowing you to kiss him back. Your brows knitted at the sour taste of yourself on his lips, but it just made everything feel so real— Jonathan and you had “made love”. It was a phrase you always wrinkled your nose at, feeling uncomfortable and juvenile at the intimacy it entailed, but now you understood it completely.
“I love you,” you repeated for what felt like the hundredth time, unable to say anything else that conveyed what you felt for him.
Honestly, you weren’t sure anything could accurately do so— you felt infinitely about him, your love touching all edges of your mind, heart and soul, filling you completely. You supposed you felt about Jonathan how the sun felt about the moon— without one, there could not be the other.
“I love you-- too,” he responded, pausing in the middle at the aftershocks of your orgasm, which had caused you to tighten around his softening, sensitive cock for a second.
You peered deep into his baby-blue eyes, watching the utter love that coloured them; it was like submerging yourself in a great blue ocean, except you didn’t want to come out, because you knew you wouldn’t drown in those eyes. No, you knew Jonathan would always be there to pull you out.
Speaking of pulling out… Jonathan slipped himself out of you softly, careful not to agitate that first stretch any more than necessary, before collapsing back into your arms. The two of you tangled yourselves in a messy flurry of limbs on his cushy mattress, sweaty and breathy, something that should’ve been terribly uncomfortable but just wasn’t— you swore you could fall asleep anywhere, no matter your own state or the circumstance, as long as you were with him.
Blearily, both your eyes began to droop, until you gave into the familiar presence of deep, dark sleep. It was a dreamless sleep for you, but you had an ever present comfort at his weight on yours, something you could feel even in unconsciousness.
Hours later, in a brisk, shuddering early-morning that you felt all over due to Jonathan’s unruly habit of opening his window at the peak of the day’s hottest weather and forgetting to close it before cold nightfall fell, you awoke to Jonathan watching you carefully, so close you could feel his warm exhales of breath on your cheek.
There was no goodmorning or anything like that, just pure, uninhibited being, reveling in the space you two occupied together. Like you two were the only things left in the world.
When Jonathan noticed you woke up, he shifted, presumably to extract himself from your grip. You stopped him, though, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and bringing him closer to you.
“What did it feel like?” you asked instead, for the last time. You brushed your fingers over his scar, and, knowing exactly what you were asking, this time Jonathan doesn’t flinch away. This time, he leans into your touch: it doesn’t burn, not anymore, and he wants your tenderness to swallow him whole.
You didn’t mean what it actually felt like, of course. You meant, what were you thinking? What have you done, and what will you do to yourself? You meant, I love you.
“It felt like,” falling; not everything feels like something else; I raised my arms and the air took me and that was it-- “it felt like… giving in. Letting my desperation find its purpose. It felt like I’d reached a point of peace… gained clarity after a long stretching, wounded moment came to an end. It felt like becoming something only meant to be talked about in past tense.”
You don’t say anything to that; you know he doesn’t want you to. There’s no need for you to hush or plead or make better, you just need to listen, and love him. He knows you accept him for everything he is, all his flaws and his strengths; he knows your love is all accepting- it veers on saintly.
At your silence, he melts into your arms and you can finally relax; there is an admission in the action, a release, an acknowledgement -- is suffering in silence not also accompanied by the overwhelming desire to be found? -- you have found him, at last, and you will never, ever let go.
You take it too far, just once. Only once. And you let him go just once, only once; never again.
#cillian murphy#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy smut#jonathan breech#on the edge#jonathan breech x reader#jonathan breech x reader smut#jonathan breech smut#cillian murphy x reader smut
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Pov local Lin Kuei ninja gets FUCKED!!!! REAL NOT CLICK BAIT!!!!!
Bi Han x fem!reader LMAO (ARRANGED MARRIAGE TROPE!!!! PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THAT AND IF YOU CONTINUE AND YOU GET UPSET THATS A YOU PROBLEM)
Tw/cw: arranged marriage!trope, fem!reader, praise, possibly ooc bi han, bi hans raging daddy issues, breeding kink, SLOW BURN!!!!!, mentions of blood and injuries, soft sex, piv, pwp, probably like really fucking long, bi han is really soft, simp bi han but not at first, unprotected sex, creampie, he eats pussy like his life depends on it, oh yeah cunnilingus, missionary, cursing
Not proofread eat my ass
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Growing up as Madam Bo's granddaughter had its perks, but it most definitely had strings attached.
You had practically gotten everything you wanted growing up, but at the expense that you had to marry the head ninja of the Lin Kuei, Bi Han. His father, the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei had made a deal with Madam Bo; if she gave you to him, she'd have the best of protection and his oath for the rest of her life. It was something she couldn't pass up on.
After she had practically sold you to the man she made sure you knew how to be a good wife. Knowing how to cook and clean being one of the main things she taught you. She knew you didn't want this, so she tried her hardest to make life for you better. She would buy you anything you wanted but nothing helped.
Once you and Bi Han were officially 18, you had gotten legally married. Luckily Madam Bo let you have some liberty in the ceremony to try and alleviate some stress. However, once the knowledge that you had just been legally bound with a man you had just met set in, absolutely nothing could make you feel better.
You had no idea what kind of man he was. Was he a rude man? Would he make you do things you weren't ready for? Walking down the aisle suddenly became a lot harder as you started to feel lightheaded. Finally getting to stand in front of him for the first time made you feel disgusting. How could your own grandmother do this to you? You practically have nothing ahead of you as far as life goes except for this.
You felt so betrayed you couldn't even look him in the eyes. Every time he tried to touch you you'd shutter and pull away. The party afterwards was a mess, too. You were sitting next to him as you'd poke at your food, not having enough energy to eat. Bi Han wouldn't eat either, he would just observe the room and make occasional glances at you.
His father was next to him, feeding him information about how to treat you, making sure to be loud enough that you would hear. "She's your wife now, she's expected to do everything you say. You don't have to treat her with respect, she's here to serve you." Bi Han let out an angry sigh every time he said something and wouldn't say a word.
"Look at her. She isn't even eating her food. She's ungrateful, you're just going to let her treat others like this? She should be taught a lesson." You could see Bi Han tense up at this, he had clenched has jaw and fists out of frustration from his father. "Maybe she's just not hungry. That isn't her fault, father. Leave her alone."
His father let out an angry scoff at Bi Hans response. "I give you a woman that other men would kill for and you just don't care? You're both ungrateful swines. Don't expect me to give you anything anymore." This statement didn't affect Bi Han, he just continued to sit with his arms crossed and eyes closed, waiting for this to end.
The party was finally over and Bi Han led you back to the house you two would be sharing from now on. The walk over was quiet with the only sound being the soft crunches of feet hitting the dirt and the sounds of the woods surrounding the two of you. As you arrived at a cottage just outside of the Lin Kuei temple, Bi Han would unlock the door and hold it open for you.
As you stepped in, everything had suddenly changed. It was such a beautiful cottage, it was made of stone and cherry blossom wood, it was decorated with crystals and cultural items that meant a lot to the Lin Kuei. "Father had gotten this custom made for you and me. Do you like it?" He suddenly turns to and looks at you with an expression unreadable. Eyes wide and seeking an answer you'd hopefully give him.
"It's amazing, not at all what I had expected from your father." You said with a chuckle. Bi han gives you a soft smile, "You haven't spoken at all today, I was getting worried. Hearing your voice for the first time really changed my perspective on our current situation. Although we have just met, we really should take things slow." He holds out his hand for you to take, leading you around the house so you'd know where everything is.
"Kuai Liang and I went shopping for clothing for you. It isn't much, but tomorrow I will make sure he takes you out so you can get more." He leads you into your shared bedroom, taking in how huge it was. He lets go of you so you can look around as he watches your every move, taking in that he was now married to you. His father really wasn't joking when he said other men would kill for you.
"I appreciate the thought a lot, Bi Han. You don't have to spend money on me anyway, I'll be fine with everything here." You say as you look through the wardrobe he selected for you. Not much? There's thousands of dollars worth of clothing in here! Is he insane?
"Father insists. He says that you should get more modest and feminine clothing, that you should be covered so other men don't think of you in perverted ways. Me, personally, I think he should shut the fuck up. He clearly doesn't know how to treat a woman." The last few sentences made your head snap you look at him, shock written all over your face.
He stood in the doorway as he let you take everything in, he was calm, a lot calmer than he was at the ceremony. "He isn't a good person, y/n. I seriously hope he stays away from us, everything he was saying earlier made me pissed beyond belief. No wonder he can't keep a woman, he treats them like objects. I won't let him treat you like that either."
As he stood waiting for your response, all you could do was just stare. He looked to the floor as he could sense your shock. Did he really just say all that?
"I think it's best we sleep in separate beds for a while. You can sleep in here, I'll take the couch." Before you could offer an actual bed to him, he had already left.
Months have passed in your marriage and yet he was still distant. He'd come home late and barely say a word to you, simply just humming in response to anything you say. He wouldn't sleep in the same bed as you either. He'd insist you weren't close enough yet.
You could tell he wasn't getting enough sleep on the couch, so you insisted, practically begged him to sleep in your room. Even after offering to sleep on the couch, he still wouldn't budge.
Bi han had told you he was going to be out for longer one night, he told you not to wait for him, that he'd make his own food. Something about a huge mission that was dangerous, it was what he was training for for the past few weeks.
Because of this, you couldn't sleep. Something told you to stay awake and wait for him. Would a good wife really just sleep in a time like this? With her husbands life in such risk? The thought of it kept you up as you paced back and forth for hours, just waiting for him to come through the door.
The clock had hit 3 AM by the time you heard the soft sound of the front door unlock. Snapping your head in the direction of the noise, you saw your husband walk through the door. Your tired, extremely disheveled haired, blood drenched uniformed husband.
"Bi Han! What happened? Are you hurt?" You ran to him, quickly looking over his unmasked face and his arms, examining the multiple bloody cuts that were exposed. He let out a sigh as he began to take his uniform off.
"Cmon, we're going to the bathroom, I have to bandage you up." You took his hand and led him to the bathroom in your shared room, closing the door behind you and guiding him to sit on the countertop.
You pulled out the first aid box and grabbed everything you needed: bandages, hydrogen peroxide, gauze, and sterile pads. Grabbing two towels, you dampened one with warm water and started cleaning the dried blood. "I really wish you were more careful. I don't like seeing you get this hurt." You say as you dampen the second cloth, putting peroxide on it.
You dab the open wounds on his face first, being careful not to hurt him too much. You then take his right arm, it had a huge slash on it, luckily not deep enough to need stitches but deep enough to cause issues if not cleaned. You held his arm over the sink and slowly started to pour the peroxide on it.
Bi Han would make soft grunts in pain as you would do this, having you lead up with "sorry," and "I know, I know," over and over. When you were finally done with the cleaning, you took a large sterile pad and draped it over his arm wound. Wrapping the gauze around it and tapping it, you put a small bandage around his nose and you were done.
You hopped off the counter and ran a warm bath for him, leading him to stand up so you could undress him. As you started to undress him, however, he lightly grabbed your wrist. "I can do this myself. Join me, would you?" He says that with a soft smile. You nodded and you began to strip your clothing as well. Once the water was done running, you added some nice cleansing soap so you'd be able to clean him better.
As you were crouched down and mixing the water till bubbly, Bi Han picked you up by the waist and plopped you in the bath tub. He followed in after you, and you started to clean his bloody arms with the soapy bubbles. He watched you do this and was seemingly pleased, as he didn't interrupt you at all. As you started to clean his neck and face, you moved into him more, but still couldn't reach him from your position.
Bi Han picked up on this, he grabbed you again and placed you on his lap, resting his hands on your waist. You and him have never been this close, you two havent even touched each other and here he is willingly putting you on waist as you were both in the bath tub.
You didn't mind it however, you just continued cleaning him. After a few minutes of gentle scrubbing, he was clean. You place both hands on his cheeks and rub small circles with your thumbs. He began to relax and you gave him a small smile. "I missed you. I'm glad you're okay."
Bi Han was a bit surprised at that and he returned the smile. He slowly leaned in and gave you a small kiss on the lips. This was the first time you've ever kissed, not even on your wedding day. But something about it felt so right. He departed from your lips but you stayed close to him. You decided to go back in for another one, this time he leaned into it.
It was a lot more passionate than you thought it would be, almost as if he was waiting to be able to do this. He moved one of his hands from your waist to the small of your back, pressing down slightly and making you lean in more. He slowly pulled away and leaned on the back of the tub, sliding his other hand up your back and resting just below your shoulder blades.
You rested your head in his chest and wrapped your arms around his torso, slowly drifting off to sleep. He watched you do so, mesmerized by how at peace you looked. He waited until you were fully asleep to take you out of the bath tub, he dressed you and tucked you into bed.
When you woke up in the morning, you felt something around your waist, something unfamiliar. You slowly turned around to see Bi Han, sleeping peacefully with his arms around you.
Ever since that day, Bi Han had grown a liking to you. Whenever he would be on missions he would bring back small trinkets for you, usually luxury jewelry of sorts. He would also open up to you more and insisted on sleeping in the same bed as you. You were more than happy to oblige and your days usually ended in your husband cuddling you to sleep.
With him changing as a man for you, you'd often get letters from Kuai and Tomas, thanking you for whatever you did to Bi Han. According to them, he was being a lot less strict and more understanding, and they couldn't be more grateful for you helping him.
One day, you had decided to make Bi Han a luxurious dinner. Filled with protein and a shit ton of carbs, everything a big boy needs. You had Tomas accompany you to town, so he could hold everything and for protection. He didn't mind, he liked you a lot and thought you were perfect for Bi Han. Tomas told you a lot about the food that's required to keep a healthy stature. With this information, you decided to make a seafood dinner. Lobster tail and scallops for the main course, mashed potatoes for a side, and I nice angel cake for a dessert.
If Tomas was being completely honest, he was even getting hungry as you picked out everything you needed. You decided to employ him for a bit of help in the kitchen, and as a reward you promised to save him some cake. With the addition of the last part, he was more than happy to help, cutting up the lobsters and peeling the potatoes for you. After a while though, he had to get back to work, bidding you a nice farewell before leaving.
When dinner was finally ready, you placed all the dishes on the table and plated him a bit of everything. You dimmed the lights and lit up some nice smelling candles and waited for Bi Han to walk through to door. A few minutes after you you got everything ready, you heard the familiar sound of the door unlocking and seeing your husband walk through.
His eyes widened at the surprise seeing you at the table that was lit with candles and had a fragrant dinner sitting on it. "Welcome home! You've been working so hard recently, I thought it would be nice for you to have a good dinner!" You pulled out his chair and watched him sit down. Taking his mask off, he picked up his chopsticks and ate some scallops, then some lobster, then some potatoes. You watched in anticipation for his reaction, wondering if he liked it or not.
He turned to you, a big smile forming on his face. "It's delicious, thank you so much." He stood up from his chair and wrapped you in a tight hug, kissing your crown. You looked up at him, hugging him back and giving him a smile. He leans down, giving you a kiss on the lips, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in closer.
You moved your hands up to cup his face, deepening the kiss as he tightens his grip on you. He licks your bottom lip, asking for permission. You open your mouth and he starts to explore, to taste you. You had never kissed him like this, but he seemed so eager to know everything about you in this moment. He seemed to to need you in a way, and his grip tightened even more. He started to pull slightly on your clothing, as he began to breath heavily and groan into the kiss.
He pulls back, resting his forehead on yours. "Y/n... I need to tell you.." he was panting at this point, clawing at your clothing as his knees began to tremble. "I need you... Need you so bad... I've been in love with you ever since the first night you helped me.. I wanted to touch you so bad but, I was so scared.. scared you didn't like me like that.. let me treat you the way you deserve.. please you the way a husband should.. please, let me make love to you."
Bi Han was out of breath, clinging to you like you were the only thing keeping him alive, and to a degree, you were. He had become so obsessed with you and he was finally admitting his feelings for you, who were you to deny him? You chuckle lightly as you kiss him back, a soft moan came from Bi Han as you started tracing your hands up and down his chest.
You decided you couldn't wait any longer, jumping up and wrapping your legs around his waist. Bi Han took this as a yes and carried you to your shared room, placing you on the new silk sheets he had just bought for you. Small giggles escape your breath as Bi Han began to trail kisses down your body. His hands traced up your thighs and clung to your night gown, slowly taking it off and leaving you in just a bra and panties.
He hooked your legs over his shoulders, pulling down your panties as he placed small kisses on your inner thighs. Once your panties were fully off, he dipped his middle and ring finger into your slit, gathering your juices. "So wet for me already. So beautiful, is this what I've been missing out on? I'll have to make up for lost time." He licked his fingers, a groan leaving his mouth from the taste.
He ran his tongue up your folds, sucking on your clit as he gripped your thighs so you'd stay in place. You began to moan loudly at his actions and started to grind yourself on his face, this made Bi Hans grip on you tighten. You could hear a muffled 'patience' as he continued what he was doing. He moved his mouth down more, prodding at your hole with his tongue. He slowly slipped his tongue in and brought his free hand to play with your clit.
You moaned loudly as his index finger and thumb began to lightly pinch and apply pressure to your clit. Bi Hans tongue continued to plunge itself deeper and deeper into you and he could feel you getting close.
With how you were whimpering and clenching around his tongue, it didn't surprise him when you harshly came without warning. A loud moan coming from you as your back arched and your head fell back. Bi Han licked up everything, not wasting a single drop of what you gave him. You had completely drenched his chin, fingers, and even parts of his neck, and he couldn't get enough of it.
After cleaning his face and fingers, he pulled away and started to undress himself. "As much as I'd love to continue doing that for the rest of the night, I think you deserve much more." He climbed onto the bed with just his boxers on, taking them off to show his hard, leaking cock.
He gripped your waist again, pulling you in and kissing you to try and soothe your anxieties. "I know you must be scared, I'll take it slow and easy." You could feel his cock prodding at your hole again, whining at the feeling. He slowly slips in and you both let out moans at the feeling. After a few minutes of moving slowly, he was finally in. After a few more minutes of waiting for you to adjust, you gave him the okay to move.
He began to rock in and out of you at a slow pace, kissing you while doing so. You began to soak up each others moans as he started to move faster. Bi Han moved to place kisses on you neck as he gripped you tighter. "You're doing amazing, taking me so well, I can't wait to do this every night when I come home." A promise he was going to most definitely keep.
You began to grip at his back, racking at it and making beads of blood appear under your fingers. He moaned at the feeling, increasing his pace because of it. "Bi han- too much, it's too much-" you moaned out, Bi Han kissed you lightly and placed his forehead to yours.
"You can take me, baby. I know you can, you're doing so well." You began to feel close again, digging your nails deeper into him because of it. His grip tightened even more on your waist, signaling he was getting close, too. "Shit- where do you want it?" He asked as he looked at you, breathing heavily.
"Inside-" you couldn't even finish your sentence before you came for a second time, letting out another loud moan as Bi Han began to ride out his orgasm. You could hear him curse under his breath and a few moments after he came inside you, letting out a groan while doing so.
He collapsed on top of you and you both tried to catch your breath. He slowly got up and got a clean wash cloth, wiping down the both of you. "You did amazing, love. You were so good for me." He smiles as he discards the cloth somewhere in the room, climbing into bed with you.
You both exchanged a few light kisses before you drifted off to sleep. Bi Han had stayed up a bit though, cuddling closer into you as he watched you float off into a state of peace. He truly was besotted by you.
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A/N: I have to update my request guidelines ugh
#bi han#bi han mk1#bi han x reader#bi han mk#mk1#mk1 x reader#mk x reader#mortal kombat smut#mortal kombat#bi han smut#bi han x reader smut#mortal kombat x reader#sub zero x reader#sub zero#grr woof woof bark bark snarl grr woof bark woof snarl grrrr
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they're not watching us.
A tiny and innocent mistake led you to this, and Cregan happened to walk in the wrong place at the wrong time.
MASTERLIST
Pairing: Alpha!Cregan Stark x Omega!Septa!Reader.
Tags/TW: a/b/o dynamics, smut (fingering, clit play, tit sucking, blood kink(?, creampie, sliiiight dubcon), dilf!cregan, profanity, religious themes. if something is missing pls let me know!!
Author's Note: just so you know, this is my first time writing about omegaverse, and i did some research (yes, i did lmao) so I tried to make it as 'real' as posible including other factors that helped with the story... so yeah, enjoy!!🤍
Word Count: 3.6k
Gen. Taglist: @borikenlove @welcometothelioncage @melsunshine
Whenever it was too cold outside, Cregan always wondered how were you able to handle the heavy snow, for you hardly ever wore a coat to cover your body from the coldness. You would wear your tunic which was way too loose to actually show your silhouette, and the typical veil that septas were forced to wear… specially septas like yourself.
Cregan found you kneeling in front of the Weirwood tree, your eyes closed and your hands pressed together holding the star that represented the Seven above. The Warden of the North frowned upon such an action, being weird out with the devotion you so dearly held for the New Gods, for it was something not so common in the zone. However, he did not mean to interrupt your prayers, so he just stood behind your back as you slowly opened your eyes and the red leaves of the tree invaded your vision with a beautiful sight.
Your eyes filled with innocence were sparkling with a glow that Cregan had never seen before, it was different and there was certainly something odd about them. It wasn't until you turned around to see him that he realized he was staring for too long already, but it was your gentle and kind smile that made him know that you had no problem with it at all.
You stood up almost immediately, and then you swiftly bowed as you got rid of the snowflakes that were sticking to your knees. Cregan looked down at you and nodded as a response for your polite greeting.
"Am I interrupting something?" He asked.
"Of course not, my lord, I was finishing my prayers when you arrived," you explained. Cregan immediately saw the seven point star hanging from your neck.
"It's a beautiful piece," he said as he carefully grabbed it between his long fingers. That action made you smile.
"It was a gift from the Grand Maester, he gave it to me when I visited the Citadel," you looked down at his hand, and inevitably, you bit your lip once you saw how small the star would look in it.
You knew you shouldn't be thinking about these things, but you also knew that your heat would soon begin and that your neediness would increase with just a simple gesture as that one. Your jaw clenched as you looked up and you noticed that his attention had returned to you.
His dark brown eyes suddenly turned darker as if he was trying to perceive something within you. Your cheeks started to feel warm as his fingers began to follow the path of the chain around your neck until his hand was placed on the side of your covered throat. You shifted your position as you squeezed your legs, already feeling the heat growing between them.
A strong scent reached your nose as you did so, it was pleasant, arousal even, and you knew then that you had to get out of there. Your skin would burn under Cregan's touch and your breathing came out shaky. The right thing to do at that moment was to leave before it was too late, so you did.
"It's better if I keep going," you said almost in a whisper. The mere sound of your voice made Cregan close his eyes as he took a deep breath, clenching his sharp jaw.
"Of course," he replied, his tone being raspy and lower than before which caused you to feel a small pressure in your lower belly.
You nodded as a way to say goodbye, and you managed to take two steps before you felt a firm grip tightening around your wrist. You gasped out of shock as you turned around, looking at the tall man in front of you breathing so fast it almost seemed as if he was fuming.
He kept your hand up, close to his nose, and he leaned a bit forward until his face was inches away from it. You saw how he softly brushed his nose against the back of your hand until it reached your wrist, and a barely audible grunt escaped from him. You panicked, knowing that this was not the right thing, so you forced yourself to pull your hand and started to walk away from that place.
The long and loose tunic you were wearing did a perfect job at covering the slick running down your thighs as you went towards the Maester's office for relief. And, also, the thick and long fur coat of Lord Stark did well at hiding his already leaking cock.
For the next few days you forbade yourself to come any close to the Warden of the North. Whenever he would show up in the same space as you, you would pick up your things and leave immediately. You were able to smell his scent, to sense his imposing presence whenever he was close, and that would left your cunt drenching and your face flustered.
At nights the pain between your legs could only be healed by the help of the Maesters, for they were the only ones that were able to do this for Septas like you. But that wasn't enough. Once they leave your chambers the pain would return almost instantly, and you would desperately hump your pillow or hand trying to find the much needed relief.
Cregan would suffer from the same thing. He knew you were avoiding him, which would wake up a side of him that he never knew existed in the first place. Your mere presence was a threat for his righteousness, for just your smell would be enough for him to lose his mind. He had tried to find someone to help him with his aching need, but as it happened to you, they were simply not enough.
The time came when one of the annual feasts the House Stark offered to its bannermen was soon to occur. The preparations for this event were huge, for it was expected to receive more than two hundred guests from the Northern lands, including some men from the Night Watch. Cregan found himself going towards the Maester's office expecting to find him there and ordering him to send some of the invitation letters… but he only found you.
As soon as you heard the door being open you turned around, widening your eyes before they were able to see the big silhouette of the man that your body was aching for. His scent was enough for you to identify him.
It was the first time he saw you without the headpiece covering your hair, or your neck. You were still wearing the same attire you used earlier that day, but for some reason, your veil was not on you anymore, and thanks to that he was now able to fully sense you; your sweet and tempting scent that made him drop the letters onto the floor. You stood shocked in the room, your legs shaking as you noticed the predatory look on his darkened eyes. At the very same time, you felt your cunt drenching with his presence.
Cregan looked at a chair, where your veil was hanging, and he took a deep breath. That piece of clothing had a spell which prevents –or at least tries to prevent– your pheromones from being perceived by people as Lord Stark whenever you were in heat. Now that you were without it, he was fully able to smell the arousal dripping down your thighs.
"My lord…" you spoke in a whiny and needy voice that made Cregan growl, getting hard with just hearing you speak, "you need to leave now."
Cregan did not answer, he stayed in his position as he clenched his jaw. His heart beating a hundred per hour while he saw the despair and neediness of your eyes staring back at him. His cock pulsing inside his pants, begging for release. You took a step back, trying to be as far as possible because you knew the consequences of this. You were fool enough to let yourself be seen in a space where you knew you might get caught.
But the Maester was the one who helped you in your times of need, and you were waiting for him when Cregan made his sudden appearance.
"My lord, please, leave right now," you repeated, begging him because you knew you couldn't hold it any longer.
The ache between your soaked thighs was starting to hurt so much that it brought tears to your eyes. Your breathing became uneven at the same time you started to clench around nothingness, feeling the despair of needing something to help you.
You heard Cregan grunting on the low as his hand began to palm his hardening knot. Your bodies feeling like magnets, trying to be far from each other but being unable to do so, because you both knew you were fighting against the feeling of ripping your clothes off and listening to what your bodies were pleading to do. However, you both know you couldn't do it… it was not right.
But then, a soft wind entered the room from the opened window behind you, grabbing the particles of your sweet scent and taking them towards Cregan's nostrils. He closed his eyes, taking a deep, long breath as he clenched his fist and tried to remain calm. You were deadly silent, scared to provoke any feeling on him that would make him lose the last bit of willpower that was left on him. But you knew it was too late once his brown eyes were opened once again; two dark orbs staring at your shaky frame with a hunger you've never seen in anyone before.
And then, you lost it too.
You whined as Cregan walked towards you, smacking your body against the wall behind you and claiming your lips as he desperately rubbed his aching cock against your thigh. His tongue wandered inside your mouth as he devoured you, touching and squeezing your breasts on top of your holy gown, feeling your hardened nipples against the fabric.
Soon enough you started to cry out against his lips, the heat inside your body washing over you and making you feel numb and dizzy. Your cunt aching and begging for attention, but at the same time the guilt was eating you alive. You weren't supposed to be doing this. Not with him. But your body was longing for his touch, to feel him deep inside of you.
"This is wrong…" you muttered as his hand reached your throat and the kiss became messy, "we- we shouldn't…"
"I know," he growled, biting your lip as he lifted your skirts with his free hand.
His fingers touched your thigh, and you felt the burning trace they left behind as they were getting closer to your core. Your whines were silenced by his possessive kiss, his tongue tasting you as he moaned desperate against your lips.
Soon, his digits found your already swollen clit, and he started to play with it. Two of his fingers spreaded your soaking folds as his middle one was circling in your pearl. You became a moaning mess, so needy for his touch and whining as he provided it to you, not being scared of being too loud.
Suddenly his whole palm was rubbing against your nub as you opened your legs for him to touch you as he pleased. He would brush your clit, spreading the big amounts of slick that were coming out of you.
You were already sweating, your hips moving against his palm as he devoured you. His hand around your throat only tightened as he felt your arousal falling down your thighs and coating his long fingers. You were out of breath while his tongue kept lurking around your mouth, licking yours as he whimpered.
"I can't fucking help it," he muttered, breaking the kiss and rubbing his nose against the skin of your face. He took deep breaths at the same time he used two of his fingers to pinch your clit and make your legs shake, "you smell so good, so fucking good."
"My lord, I-" you cried, a choked voice and gulp followed your words, "Gods, p-please…"
"I need to fuck you so bad, darling," he whined, his lips finding the access to your neck at the same time he humped your clothed thigh, "I've been- I've been trying to get you out of my mind but I can't. It's so fucking frustrating… knowing that your so close but so out of my reach."
His fingertips teased your entrance, making you moan while you held onto his broad shoulders, trying desperately to have something to grip in case your trembling legs would give in. The sound of your wetness echoing in the room, increasing the heat between you two.
"And now here you are," he said between grunts and heavy breathes, "coating my fingers with your sweetness. I bet you taste so fucking good…"
He removed his hand from your core and he raised it, showing you his glistening fingers before he put them in his mouth. The sweetness of your taste made him whine as soon as he felt it, and an expression of pain was shown on his face. He couldn't wait any longer, his body was craving for you.
In a sudden movement, his big and strong hands ripped your gown, leaving it shattered in the floor as your whole body was now exposed to his hungry eyes. His eyes scanned every inch of you before he leaned towards your breasts in order to also have a taste of them. His wide tongue engulfing your sensitive nipples made you squirm, and his hands surrounded your waist in an attempt to keep you still. He would violently suck on them, almost making you cry out of pure pleasure, feeling so high in ecstasy that you barely could stand on your feet.
You tried to push him away as his teeth started to softly bite your nubs, but he would only press his face harder against your tit. You felt scratches in your back produced by the raspy stone of the walls as you writhe and move. Your whines and cries were getting a bit too loud but Cregan did not seem to care at all, he was too busy having his own personal feast.
"Gods! My lord, it's- I'm going to… Oh!" you moaned, Cregan grunting against your soft skin.
He hummed against you, and then softly said, "fucking cum in my hand, love."
When you thought you couldn't get any more pleasure, you felt one of his hands leaving your waist and reaching for your clit once again. Two of his fingers spreaded your swollen lips while a third one went into your pussy. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your whole body shook with pleasure, and you ended up coming undone between his arms.
He didn't give you a break. As soon as he noticed you had reached your first orgasm, he couldn't bare with the need of fucking you anymore. He turned your body and your hands held your weight against the wall. You felt his big hands grabbing your hips to lean them backwards and a few seconds later you heard a soft stump against the floor, which were his pants falling down his long legs.
Your mouth opened as you felt his thick and wet head spreading your slick all over your cunt, even reaching your arse. You cried out loud, sobbing out of pleasure while you started to clench around nothing.
"Please!" You begged. Tears already soaking your flushed cheeks, "it hurts so much!"
Cregan's eyes widened as he buried himself in you. Your tight walls receiving his cock in a warm grip that made him whimper and his legs shake. A trembling sigh escaped him while his fingertips dug in your skin.
"Fucking- I'm going to fucking lose my mind with this tight cunt of yours," he growled in your ear.
He started to slowly bury himself in you, stretching you open as you gulped and cried, so desperate for him to fuck you senseless. Your hands and your whole body was shaking as the pleasure started to consume you. He was so big, and the way you could feel his cock twitching inside of you was completely intoxicating.
With a single push he fully entered you. His hips smacking against yours and pressing your entire body against the wall. He let out a needy moan that made you feel butterflies in your belly. You felt so full, squeezing him firmly as you inevitably clenched around it.
His hands went to your lower abdomen and your eyes followed the trace. You were able to see a bump in your belly which he pressed; that gesture made you roll your eyes as you leaned your head back into his shoulder.
"Did you see that, love?" He asked, fighting against the urge to snap his hips against yours, "see how good I fill you up? how deep I am?"
No matter how deep his voice would sound, it would still come out as whines and shaky whimpers.
"Yes…" you managed to say. He pulled out slowly, only leaving his thick head inside of you.
"Your cunt now belongs to me," He finished his words with a harsh movement that allowed him to be fully inside of you again. You squinted as you closed your legs at the sudden pleasure, screaming his name. "I won't let anyone else fuck you. ever. again." After each word he would repeat that action.
Your eyes closed as your mind felt light and dizzy. Of your mouth, only obscene sound would come out, as your skins slapping against each other while Cregan's movements fastened with the need of reaching his orgasm.
"You're gonna be mine, right? You're gonna let me knot this pretty little cunt of yours…"
"Yes! Yes, please! Please!" You blindly said, forgetting about everything and only thinking about how good he was making you feel.
His thrusts were animalistic, his cock going in and out of you, filling you up so well. It wasn't long until Cregan was able to see a ring of cream around his shaft, and the sight would only make him go more feral, completely losing his control as he restlessly pounded against you.
Your cries and pleas were heard all over the castle, but neither of you cared. You finally were satisfying your needs, the need of being with each other in this way.
The sound of your juices would join the sound of your loud moans. Cregan would roll his eyes each time your walls squeezed him, and when you least expected it, he ripped another orgasm out of you.
With a scream, your cunt flattered around his cock and your legs bent. Cregan easily grabbed you between his arms, wrapping them around your sweaty and warm body. He never stopped pounding, abusing your overstimulated hole while you started to see stars. You were exhausted already, and yet you felt the need to have more.
One of his hands grabbed your breast, and the other went to your swollen clit, playing with it as his chest pressed against your back. You let your head fall backwards towards his shoulder, breathing so fast and heavily that your throat dried out.
A yell was stuck in the middle of your throat as you started to feel his knot spreading inside of you. Your cunt felt even tighter as he stretched your walls in such a painful and delicious way.
His lips attacked your neck, kissing it and marking it as he whispered, "I'm gonna cum… and you're gonna take it all like the good, pretty girl you are."
You barely could nod, and when you least expect it, he shot his seed deep inside of you, making the bulge in your belly even bigger.
A guttural sound left his lip and then, suddenly, you felt a sharp pain in the left side of your neck that made you flustered your walls around his swollen knot, and as the blood fell from the bite down your cleavage and onto your abdomen, your third orgasm washed over you. Your juices gushing out of your cunt as your legs shook and your hips twitched. A mixture of your release and Cregan's pooled under your feet, staining the fine wood with filthiness and sin.
Your eyes followed the path of blood from your belly towards your collarbone, where an open wound with the shape of a bite decorated your skin. Then, you noticed the seven point star necklace that was still hanging from your neck, and you saw how the blood would gather in the points and drop to the floor.
As Cregan was still inside of you, panting and still moaning against your ear , you couldn't help but to think of yourself as a filthy sinner. You were now no better than a woman from a brothel; dirty and sullied, a sinful woman that let herself be carried away by the lust of the moment, disappointing the Maiden and the Mother.
Now with the mark on your neck, you had no choice but to obey and satisfy your alpha. You were claimed, and not even the Gods can get you free from this eternal bond that tied you to him. You were now his.
After a few minutes, your legs had just stopped shaking when you felt Cregan hardening cock starting to move once again inside of you. You whimpered out of the overstimulation you were suffering, too wasted to give him another orgasm, and feeling too guilty to fully enjoy a second round.
But your body did not seem to listen to your mind.
"Don't be afraid of what your Gods might say about this," he whispered, before licking the blood from your wound, "if we're lucky enough, they're not watching us right now."
#cregan x reader#cregan stark fanfic#cregan stark#cregan stark smut#cregan stark x y/n#cregan stark x you#cregan stark x reader#hotd smut#hotd x reader#hotd#hotd x y/n#hotd x you#hotd fanfic#house stark#house targaryen#house of the dragon#fanfic
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Alone Time
Moon Knight System (Marc, Steven, Jake) x Fem! Reader
TW/CW: NSFW, Fluff, smut, oral (m + f! receiving), protected sex, PiV sex, Jake has a certain kink, unprotected sex, every good mama deserves to have a train run on her, body insecurities, affirmations, porn with a big heaping slice of life, could this be considered cucking? Or voyeurism/exhibitionism?, broken condom
MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME
This fic is connected to "Small Surprises" Pt. 1 and Pt. 2.
A/N: I had to do it lmao.
Taglist: @simp4-fictional-men @autismsupermusicalassassin @princessakirika @mochimoqa @pimosworld
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Your life was a strange one, now. You'd gotten used to the looming, musty-smelling god that lingered in your apartment and spent time with your daughter; you'd gotten so used to having the man--er, men--in your life at your side when you wake up in the morning.
You'd especially gotten attached to their little fishy friends!
But, hey, you wouldn't change it for the world. Hanukkah and Christmas came and went, so did New years. Poor Victoria, she was hiccuping and crying because the fireworks were too loud and terrified her, prompting Jake to immediately cradle her, and even Khonshu moved to slam your windows closed to muffle the sounds. (Although you lectured him about cracking one of the panes in his haste.)
And now, Valentine's Day was coming up, and you weren't entirely sure what to get for your boys.
Victoria, bless her tiny, sweet, adorable little heart, cut out some messy, colorful, and craft-herpes (glitter) covered hearts to each of them, doodling various things each man liked. Steven's heart was brown with gold glitter and had little Egyptian designs scribbled here and there, Marc had a few sports items drawn on his white and blue-glitter heart, Jake had a bright yellow and white heart, a crude scribble of his car drawn on next to his name.
She even made one for Khonshu. It was gaudy. Bright, neon pink, purple and blue glitter all over, and had small drawings of birds on it, with a crescent moon with a smiley face in the middle. His face couldn't emote, but you couldn't help but grin like an idiot (and had to elbow Steven in the gut to keep him quiet) as your innocent daughter handed her little art project to her "Cranky Bird Grandpa 'Shu". You were positive his pride took a blow when he accepted it in front of the two of you, but the way he gingerly held the little gift silently told you that he did, infact, like it.
Why Khonshu's personality seemed to shift around you and Victoria, you were unsure. You'd never asked, and to be honest you kinda didn't wanna know. You just chocked it up to, hopefully, Khonshu realized his existence didn't have to solely revolve around justice and violence. That some of his more forgotten attributes could be indulged in; such as him being a protector and a healer.
One time, Victoria fell and scraped her knee at the park, bawling as blood trickled down her delicate little leg. Before you or Marc could leap to your feet, Khonshu was there (invisible to others, of course) and whispered something to her. She repeated it, and by the time you two got there, Khonshu was gone, disappeared into a puff of mist, and Victoria was no longer injured.
Marc had asked her, worried, about what Khonshu said to her, the moment you got into the car. You were vaguely paying attention, at first, distracted at how his beard had come in, and he'd stopped being so meticulous about his appearance that his usually raven locks and beard (the one Jake insisted they grow out) were peppered with silver.
"What did he say, Vicky?" Marc asked.
"Jus' said that I had to say the words." Victoria answered vaguely, playing with her little scarab plushie in the back seat.
"What words, baby?" Marc asked, feeling a nervous sweat break out on his neck. You had to place your hand on his thigh to snap him back to reality.
"The words!" Victoria said, pursing her cute little face, her nose all scrunched up at his lack of automatically knowing what she meant. "He said, I gotta say the words to ask for help, so he can fix me!"
"...Wait." You turned in your seat to look back at her as you approached a red light, Marc watching her warily through the rear-view.
"Honey, do you mean a prayer?"
"Duh!" She scoffed, like it was obvious. "'Shu used to fix people all the time, he says. But nobody says the words no more so he can't. I had to say em so he could do it!"
You and Marc blink at each other, mulling over what your daughter just told you, a thick silence hanging in the air that was only cut through by her munching on some veggie sticks (all carefully arranged by color, of course. The red ones tasted the best, so they went first!).
"....I forgot he could do that." Marc murmured softly, looking back at the road as the light turned green.
"Yeah!" Victoria peeped. "'Shu says he can't do it no more cause it's hard. It's easier to find bad guys than fix people 'cuz they don't him ask for it no more."
You watch as Marc's jaw tenses and a look of confliction creases his brow.
Living under basically forced servitude tends to blind one to any benevolence their "benefactor" may have possessed at one point.
...And apparently still possessed. He'd never thought--none of them had--to consider that Khonshu never dispatched them to heal anyone, because A.) Nobody prayed to him for that anymore. B.) It wasn't in Moon Knight's abilities to heal anyone. And C.) Evil was just so much easier to root out.
The rest of the ride home was quiet; Marc, Jake, and Steven's headspace abuzz with this revelation.
You, meanwhile, still stressed out over what to get Marc, Steven, and Jake.
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"I still don't trust him." Marc muttered stubbornly.
"I understand why, and you have your rights to." You sigh softly, kneading the muscles in his shoulders. You were sitting behind him on the bed, his legs draped over the edge. "But you have to admit, he's strangely... sweet to Victoria."
"I don't trust it." He huffs again, his eyes closing as your thumbs work a particularly stiff knot between his shoulders.
"I know. But believe me, if he tries anything..." You mutter as your brow creases and you apply just a bit more pressure, earning a groan and a strained chuckle from Marc.
"Shit, I think the old man is more scared of you than what the Ennead might do to him if he fucks with the sky again." He says. "You and that broom."
You grin and press yourself against his back, resting your cheek on his shoulder as you slip your arms around his midsection, feeling the mix of softness and muscle, there.
"Well... me and my broom are fearless companions." You chuckle.
Marc stutters out a short huff as your fingers brush the trail of hair running beneath waistband of his sweatpants. They were doing very little to conceal the growing erection that throbbed against his thigh.
Marc tipped his head and looked at the monitor next to the bed, showing that Victoria was happily snuggled in bed, curled up with her arms squeezing Digger the scarab plush and snoozing peacefully.
Thank god that little girl usually slept like the dead...
"So..." You say, leaning in to nip at his ear as you comb your fingers through his curls, small water droplets clinging to the strands. Your nails scraping against his scalp, he groaned.
"You don't gotta work for the old man tonight." You say, kissing down his neck and to his shoulder, feeling how goosebumps formed beneath your soft lips; your hand slowly sliding up from his happy trail to his chest.
"Ay, hermano, you don't say yes I'll fuck her for you." Jake's voice rang out.
Marc grunted at his unwanted offer and demand; usually when it came to being intimate with you, the two of you worked out a system, setting up times, etcetera. And when spontaneous things like this happened, Jake and Steven would leave you and Marc alone, and the other ways around.
But of course Jake would occasionally peek in to tell Marc different things to do to you to get the best reaction, or hell, sometimes he'd cheer Marc on like a weird perverted, one-man cheerleader.
"Hmmm... Jake?" You chuckle, taking a small bit of his muscle in between your teeth playfully.
"Fuck. Yeah." Marc gasped, your palm sliding slowly back down until it was all the way under his sweats, stroking his throbbing cock leisurely. He could feel Jake linger, just barely... he would be a spectator tonight, it seemed.
"Ah, should've known. Steven's a good boy and tends to leave everyone alone when it comes to one-on-one time." You chuckle, placing a small kiss to your bite mark. They'd be gone by the time he suited up next, but you knew all the boys had preferred little "badges" to wear.
With Marc, he liked your bite marks, your hand occasionally tugging on his hair. With Steven, it was hickeys and lipstick stains. With Jake, it was scratches on his chest and back, maybe a bitten lip.
However you were all careful not to make them too obvious. The one time Victoria brought up a hickey she spotted on Steven's throat, you swore you saw steam puff out of his ears and his brain explode.
"A-A bug bit me, poppet, th-that's all!" He told her.
"Oh! Okay." She replied to him, not questioning it further, content to go back to playing with her dolls. (She had mummified one of them while you two were making lunch, which concerned you because Khonshu helped so it was as frighteningly accurate as it could get on a chunk of plastic...)
Marc groaned and he bucked his hips up into your touch, his hand falling to where he felt yours beneath his pants, encouraging you.
"Damn, baby." He huffed, already feeling beads of precum begin to drop from the tip of his dick.
You tug his head to the side and kiss him hungrily, your lips connecting as your tongues sloppily danced with one another.
"Your mouth?" Marc hissed.
You nod with a hum slipping around him and to your knees on the soft carpet at his feet, your eyes dark and hungry as he lifted his hips, letting your soft, delicate hands pull his sweats all the way down.
"We honestly may as well stop getting dressed right out of the shower." You chuckle, biting your lip as you pump his cock with your hand, your cheek resting on his thick thigh while you give him a teasing look.
You press your thumb against the weeping head of his dick, sighing. "....because either way, one of you boys get wound up and we wind up naked again."
"Can't help it around you." Marc groaned as you ran your tongue up the underside of his length, tracing the pulsing vein there.
"Clothes just fly off on their own when you're around us, baby."
You snort and roll your eyes, giving his tip a little love nip before licking the large drop of sweet-salty fluid off it, and popping it in between your lips and swallowing him down.
"Fuck." He growled as you bobbed your head, sucking tight and hollowing your cheeks while he petted your damp hair shakily.
"So fucking good, baby."
You moan appreciatively, squirming as you feel your panties start to squish, your clit throbbing almost in tune with his pulse as you take him deeper.
You gag a bit when he gets a little overzealous, and he pulls you back, panting and brows pinched up in concern. "Shit, you okay?"
"Yeah, I just need a teeny bit of a warning next time, honey." You giggled before pulling him back into the hot wet cavern of your mouth.
Marc's eyes rolled back in bliss as your tongue stroked him, his lips snagging his teeth beautifully as his eyes drift to the monitor again to check on Victoria.
Dead asleep, but this time with a little foot poking out from her blankets.
He made a soft whine as the plush of your lips squeezed his sensitivity flesh, your teeth grazing just after, providing a singular myriad of sensations.
Gods, your mouth was downright sinful. The first time you gave him a blowjob, he thought he died again, his orgasm slamming into him like a runaway train.
Afterwards, you sheepishly admitted that sometimes, the only way your ex would get intimate with you while you were pregnant was oral, because he said the sight of your stretch marks made him uncomfortable, and he had his concern for "the kid".
Yeah, it was more likely because he was already having sex with your friend on the side by that point.
But with your boys? They loved whatever they could get, and treasured every millisecond of it. Sometimes a little too much; Steven had a habit of cumming before he even properly fucked you, especially while spending time between your legs with his tongue to the point you were worried he smothered between your thighs.
So many times he'd stain the insides of his boxers and pants, just from eating you out.
Marc groaned, his cock jerking in your mouth to signal you he was going to cum; and you hummed around him greedily, sucking harder to milk him of whatever he could give you.
"Fuuuuck--" He breathed hard, the first spurt of cum shooting out and coating your tongue; his taste heavy and thick and oh-so addicting as you happily drank him down, swirling your tongue around as you pulled off.
Marc chuckled breathlessly and collapsed onto the bed, his arm resting over his face, "Shit... I swear you could suck the soul outta one of us."
You slowly crawl up his body, looking down at him as you support yourself with your hands and knees with a cheeky grin. "That good, huh?"
Marc leaned up and kissed you softly on the lips. "That good."
His hands find their way up your thighs to cup your ass, kneading the soft flesh as he bunched your microfiber sleep shorts beneath his fingers. "Now lemme return the favor."
You squeaked and laughed as he flipped you on your back, his hands almost ripping your buttons on your shirt open to get to the skin beneath, licking and placing open mouth kisses as he moved down to your breasts, his tongue flattening over your perked nipples as his hand slides down to your tummy.
You squirmed a bit, you always do when he palms your squishy lower half. After having Victoria, you didn't "bounce back" like those gorgeous mothers online always seemed to. Your belly was stretched, visible purple marks that faded to an almost silvery sheen over time, but you just couldn't lose the weight that came with your pregnancy.
Your ex didn't like your obvious signs of your growing child within your womb, but your boys? Gods, they adored it. Because it was proof you carried that sweet, adorable, curious little girl that you all loved so much; your body keeping her safe and warm until she was ready to greet the world for the first time.
"Baby." Marc said, looking at you, his dark eyes soft and loving as his flattened his calloused palm over your squishy tummy.
"C'mon... I know that look."
"I... I can't help it." You mumble as he plants feather-soft kisses over your eyelids.
"You need to stay off those mom forums." He joked. "They're full of photoshopped women, or women who can afford surgery to hide a previous pregnancy."
"I know..."
Marc leaned down, kissing his way down your tummy, planting more and more kisses over each and every stretch mark, until his lips reached the waistband of your shorts.
"You're fucking gorgeous, baby. Every scar and bit of baby fat included."
His fingers tapped your hips and you lifted them so he could all but rip them down your legs, practically licking his chops as his eyes landed on your soaked and puffy folds, a soft patch of hair on your mons.
He kissed his way down, further, his thumb spreading your lips and labia, smearing your slick around as his lips formed an "o" around your clit.
You moaned deeply, hand tangling in his mass of untamed curls as his fingers toy with your entrance; tracing it but not sliding inside.
"Marc!" You bucked impatiently.
"So greedy." He chuckled, the vibrations from his voice sending jolts through your clit, making you jump and yelp.
The way his beard tickled and scraped your cunt and thighs had your head swimming, your slick soaking the salt and pepper hairs on his face.
When his fingers finally plunged in, your toes curled and your hands gripped your blankets tight.
"Marc." You mewled.
Marc used his thumb to pull the hood of your clit back as his index and middle fingers curled inside your tight, gummy walls; giving his tongue unfettered access to wrap around the sensitive nub.
You hips tilted and your back arched, and you had to bite down on your lip to stifle the cries that wanted to come from your mouth. Your clit was sensitive, it always was; but god forbid your baby daddy ever give a fuck about that.
Marc and the boys? Oh, they loved to abuse that knowledge every time you two were intimate. Especially when they were using their mouths on you.
"Shit, we need to find a babysitter Vicky's comfortable with." Marc growled in between open mouth kisses to your sweet lips, his fingers curling in the most devilish way.
"Wanna hear how loud we can get ya."
You hiccuped softly in an effort to control your breathing and stuttering voice as your orgasm started to creep up on you. All you could do was blabber out a short "yes" when Marc nipped at your clit again, pressing his fingers up at juuuuust the right angle, sending your eyes rolling so far back into your head you swore you could probably see your own brain for a split second as those wonderful waves of ecstasy beat away at the shores of your sanity.
Marc continued to thrust and curl his fingers, slowing down to stretch out your orgasm until you were ready, your poor hungry hole fluttering and clenching around his digits for more.
Marc, the cheeky little shit, made a lewd display of licking his fingers clean, spreading them into a wide "v" as he wrapped his tongue around each one, licking you completely clean.
You growled playfully and pulled him down to you, slipping your tongue past his lips, tasting a little of yourself in his mouth as your kiss turned sloppy and very messy; his beard soaked all the way through from how much you had gushed onto his tongue and mouth.
When you parted (because your brains finally told you that you needed oxygen to keep living) you were both flushed and hungry for more, and Marc reached down, squeezing your baby fat softly.
"All this is ours, and we aren't trading it for anything."
And damn, did he spend the rest of the night proving it to you.
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"Aunt Layla!" Victoria squealed, running and practically leaping into the woman's arms.
"'Tawar." She giggled, waving excitedly at the hippo-woman trailing just behind.
Layla laughed loudly and you grinned as she and your daughter brushed noses. It was weird, at first, meeting Marc's ex-wife (and Steven's ex-girlfriend) but you were happy they were still on friendly terms, friendly enough, that Layla wanted to meet you and your little girl.
Victoria latched onto her immediately, the moment she sat down in your living room, the curious girl pattered up to her after waking up from her nap, still drowsy as she clambered onto the sofa, and curled up in Layla's nap, resting her head on her chest.
It was so cute you almost started crying. Even the goddess, Taweret, squealed and wiggled her feet at the sight. Given she was the goddess of mothers, children, and other related things, it made sense that she adored your daughter (like Khonshu, but the old pigeon would never admit to it.)
Taweret tagged along on most visits because she wanted to meet the woman and child responsible for gaining so much trust and love from the boys to ease their pain and loneliness. She also just wanted to meet your daughter because, c'mon. Victoria was adorable and everyone so far loved her. Even the "bloody old pigeon" as she and Steven were so fond of calling Khonshu.
Layla settled and hefted your child onto her hips, walking over to give you a side hug and you two exchanged cheek kisses in greeting.
"Hey, love!" Layla said to you both. "How have things been!"
"Oh, wonderful. Victoria's started reading multi-chapter books already." You sigh, smiling in wonder at your daughter.
Victoria giggled bashfully and started rubbing her cheek onto Layla's, reaching out to touch Taweret's outstretched palm.
"Really? So soon?" Layla blinked in amazement.
"Yeah, the doctor said it's not entirely uncommon that some autistic children develop certain skills quicker. She's already reading some of Steven's textbooks to him!" You reply.
"Damn, give her a few weeks and I'd wager this little ankle-nipper will be able to put any of those scholars at the museum to shame." She snorted.
"Steven said the same thing." You chuckled. "Even joked that they could probably go into Uni together."
"Oh gods, that's cute." Layla giggled as Victoria dug her fingers into her curly hair to play with the silky mass.
"Steven had a meeting at the museum today, he'll feel so sad for not saying bye." You say wistfully.
"Eh, it's one night. He will survive." Layla scoffed playfully.
"...Thank you so much for agreeing to take her." You sighed at her.
"Hey, hey, no problem. It's Valentine's and you two have been so wound up lately you need some alone time." She winked at you not-so-subtly.
You blushed a bit at her implication and laughed nervously as you reached for Victoria's overnight bag.
"Oh--her favorite blanket and toys are in there. Her shampoo, toothbrush, toothpaste, Digger is in there, too, because you know how she gets without him--"
"Relax, I know this'll be her first time away from you." Layla smiled warmly. "But she'll be fine. The hotel is just a block away, and plus, nothing will happen to her. Not with a goddess and her Avatar looking out for her, eh?"
Your shoulders dropped with a heavy sigh. "Yeah... Yeah, you're right. It's just..."
"No, no I get it." Layla's eyes twinkled. "...So how many squishmallow things has Steven and Victoria accumulated?"
You laugh out loud and point behind her, the corner of your living room where you'd had your Christmas tree was now stacked with several plushies, mostly squishmallows of various kinds, including a very large pineapple named "Maui" that Steven and Victoria loved curling up against to read together.
Layla snorted when she looked, shaking her head. "Well, could collect worse things, I s'pose."
"Like taxidermied bugs and animals?" You joke.
"Oh that's a horrible thought!" She grinned.
"Yeah, well, like you said..."
Layla laughed again and moved so Victoria could lean up to you and rub noses, and you could pepper her soft little face with plenty of kisses.
"Be good for your Aunt Layla and Taweret, okay?" You ask her gently.
"I will, mommy!" Victoria chirped, rubbing her face onto yours lovingly, breathing in your perfume.
You waved as they all left, feeling almost bereft and out of place in your suddenly too quiet flat.
You decided, after a few moments of nervous lip chewing, to walk back to your bedroom.
You walked to your closet and moved aside an old suitcase, revealing a long black box wrapped in hot pink ribbons.
After that night with Marc, something clicked inside your brain and you knew what to get for the boys.
Or rather, what to get yourself for the boys.
You set the box on the bed and looked at the article of "clothing" sitting inside the box. You'd ordered this set of lingerie after Jake and Victoria snuggled on the couch after watching Zootopia together.
You made sure to have it delivered "accidentally" to your neighbor's flat, and she handed it over to you like you two were smuggling contraband into a prison.
After all, you didn't want the boys to find your surprise, now did you?
It took a bit, but you'd stripped down and hastily pulled on your new set. All straps, the fabric was easy on your hands, so you knew Steven wouldn't be overwhelmed by the texture when he touched you.
And boy... would he want to touch you.
The straps covered up nothing and so much at the same time, leaving nothing to the imagination while still, leaving so much.
Looking into the mirror, you swallowed thickly. It looked nothing like it did on the models on the site. Where they had flat, toned bodies and perfect figures...
You had soft, rounded out features, stretch marks and of course, the baby fat.
You chewed your bottom lip hesitantly, your first instinct to take it all off and shove it back into he closet when you saw what you didn't like.
But... you knew that Marc, Jake, and Steven loved you. And that they would go feral if they saw you in it.
For added measure, you slid on the sheer, white stockings up to your thighs, the soft material squishing the plushest parts of your legs.
You had to shove the second one up hastily when you heard the front door unlock, and Steven's voice.
"Ey, love?" Steven called out.
"Uh--egh--fuck--hold on a minute!" You say, scrambling for your fluffy bathrobe. It concealed enough that they wouldn't see much... save for if they looked at your feet.
Steven had walked into the bedroom just barely after you'd tossed the box back into the closet and the door clicked shut, you awkwardly smiling and standing with your hands clasped in front of you.
"Heeeyyy... You!" You tried pitifully.
A thick brow raised behind those dark-rimmed glasses of his. Gods, he looked gorgeous. Dressed in a nice smooth button-up, his blazer buttoned halfway up and his curls falling into his face? His sweet, boyish curiosity had you already blushing.
He looked every bit like the kind of professor many college students would fantasize about taking "extra credit" with...
"What's got you in a tizzy?" Steven chuckled, walking over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist to kiss the tip of your nose.
"Oh uhm.... Ah." You squirm, giggling at his kisses.
"Is it because Victoria is out?" He asked, tilting his head to the side like a curious pup.
"Well, uh, eh... Uhm." You cough awkwardly. Oh, this was a horrible idea. So stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
"Oh! Actually, hold that bubble." Steven chirped, fishing out a small paper bag out of his back pocket.
Inside the bag, was a small box. A jewelry box.
Your hand goes to your mouth as he opens it up and grins sheepishly. "Took us forever to agree on something. Marc was being a real bellend about it, y'know?"
He frowns over at your mirror, his brows creasing as he scowls at his reflection.
"What! You were!" He snapped.
Inside the box was a silver pendant, cut in the shape of the crescent moon, with engraving on it.
"We love you, to the moon and back."
"A bit cheesey, innit?" He mumbled, pulling at his sleeves as his hands darted all over your face, his teeth snagging his lip.
You honestly felt like tearing up. It was so... so cheesey, and so romantic. Very much a Steven thing to do. But you could tell even Marc and Jake had a hand in it, too. It was a united effort.
"Steven...." You begin, lifting your eyes to lock with his doe-like brown ones.
He tosses a nervous, awkward smile.
"I love it. It's gorgeous." You say, your thumb brushing over the shiny material.
"Let me put it on you?" Steven asked you hesitantly, as if worried you'd say no.
"Sure." You smile warmly at him, noticing how his demeanor lights up and he cheerfully brings the chain around your neck as he moves to stand behind you, carefully locking the clasp so the moon hung just beneath your collarbone.
You hear Steven go "huh" under his breath as his fingers brush beneath your bathrobe, touching the straps of the lingerie you were concealing.
"What's this, love?" He asked you, and you jolted slightly.
Oh, shit. Right. The lingerie. You'd almost forgotten it!
"Uh.... It's.... Eh...." You stammer out awkwardly, stepping away to fiddle with the sash of your robe.
Steven watches, curiously and patiently waiting for you to speak, his head tilted to the side.
"So, I've been trying to figure out what to get you guys for Valentine's day, y'know? I was stumped, trying to think on what I could do, so... I... Um."
You looked at Steven, his curls flopped over his head, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips as he nods, urging you on.
'Damn it, now or never...'
Your fingers undo the knot of the robe and let the fluffy material slip down to hang from your forearms, your face erupting in a heated flush as you feel his eyes rake slowly up and down your body and hear him gasp just barely audibly.
"Oh, love." He breathed. "You... That looks--"
He snapped his head to the mirror, his face scarlet red. "Sh-shut it! I was--no! You just shut it!"
You watch as he looks at you again, bashfully as your eyes reconnect. He rubbed the back of his head and said sheepishly, "S-Sorry.... Jake just won't... Stop being Jake right now."
"Oh..." You reply, licking your plush lips anxiously as Steven walks closer to you, his hand reaching out to brush the various straps, moving to delicately cup one breast, his thumb brushing over the strap that covered your nipple as he continued to look at you and that silver pendant that hung from your neck.
You really completed a gorgeous image; like a swan perched elegantly on a lake's smooth surface.
Sometimes, Steven felt like a clumsy and loud goose next to you. He knew it was a poor comparison, that you would never look at him or Jake or Marc that way, but he had his own insecurities as much as you did...
"Do... you like it?" You ask slowly as his other hand, warm and more than a little sweaty rests on your hip.
"We love it." He replied, leaning in to kiss you softly on the lips. As he pulled away, you noticed his dark eyes become almost smoky--heavy.
"We.... Wouldn't mind seeing this on you more often."
"Well... Hm." You say, feeling his hands encircle you, moving down to cup your ass as his mouth kissed your jaw.
His calloused fingers squished and rolled your cheeks beneath his palms, pulling you closer to his own body, allowing to feel his hardening cock press against your thigh while his knee parted your legs and your back connected with the cold plaster of your bedroom wall.
The chill made your nipples harden, poking through the fabric of your lingerie and you yelped at the sensation.
"Hell.... You 'right, love?" Steven asked, his curls falling over his forehead as he looked at you with wide eyes.
"Yeah." You chuckle, goosebumps erupting on your body. "The wall's a little cold."
"Oh...." Steven says, his lips brushing your ear.
"Then... we best move to the bed, yeah?"
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You were positive there were going to be bruises on your hips from how desperately Steven had gripped them, rabbiting into you, his cock sliding in and out of you effortlessly, the sound of slapping skin sinfully loud inside your bedroom.
"S-Steven!" You squeaked, your poor cunt abused and sensitive as he fucked you, the texture of the condom he wore sending little shocks through your body with each drag of his hips.
You had already cum--twice--once from Steven's hands and mouth, and once more from how he'd fucked into you.
Steven had cum while his face was buried between your legs, rutting his clothed hips hard against your mattress as you squirmed and writhed against him. The way he looked when he pulled back, lips swollen, face flushed; his beard wet from your juices, his hair tousled and hanging over his brow. He looked utterly fucked out and he hadn't even been inside of you yet.
"....k-know, love." Steven whimpered, rutting into you a bit more, practically bent in half over you as he kneeled between your legs, his cock angled at an eye-rolling tilt so it slammed once more against your g-spot.
"Almost--almost--" He panted hard, his grip on your hips slipping a little because of how sweaty you both were, so instead he hooked his hands through the straps that still adorned you and used them for leverage as he relentlessly pounded into you.
You dug your nails into his shoulders as you pulled him down, mouthing at the apple of his throat as it bobbed, tasting the thin layer of sweat that dewed his skin, sucking a bruise onto the skin, there.
"L-Love!" Steven whimpered, his pace stuttering as you feel him twitch inside of you, the condom beginning to swell a bit as he pumped his load into the safe cocoon of latex.
His hips slowed into languid rolls, prolonging his orgasm just by a tiny bit as he came down from his high.
You kissed his temple softly, petting his sweat-damp curls as his breathing began to even out. You feel him slump against against you and his arms lock.
You feel a shuddered breath escape him before his breathing finally became steady.
"Steven?" You ask him softly, running your fingers through his hair again.
He lifted back and supported himself on his forearms, looking down at you with a grin, his eyes twinkling.
"Think again, cariño."
"Jake." You breathed, already feeling a thrill creep up your spine as his lips traced your jawline.
"Steven got to have you all dressed up," His fingers playfully snapped one of the straps on you, making you squeak softly. "Now it's my turn. Can't let such a nice, pretty present go unwrapped."
"Oh.... So you're gonna take it off me, now?" You asked, shuddering as he pulled out, still rock hard.
"Nah." His hands went to your hips and with a jerk, flipped you onto your belly, pulling your ass up, his hand kneading the soft flesh as he looked down at you.
He moved the panties to the side to see your red, puffy cunt. "Coño más bonita que he visto."
He didn't change the condom; instead, he pushed right back into your pussy, groaning deep in his chest as he felt your heat grip and squeeze him invitingly.
"Nice..." Jake hissed through his teeth, pulling back slowly before sinking back in, relishing in how your body so eagerly welcomed him back inside of you; your thighs glistening so beautifully, wetting his own, dripping down his shaft to coat his balls as he started fucking you into a steady rhythm.
He winced himself, feeling tense as the body had cum while Steven was in control, so his nerves were still highly sensitive to everything right now. He wasn't going to last long, he knew and it frustrated him. He made a mental note to remind the other two to leave him alone with you for a day or so at some point, wanting to be able to ravish and ravage you properly.
He leaned over, kissing the skin between your shoulder blades as he muttered against you.
"Touch yourself for me, mamí. Want to feel you choke my cock." Jake rasped.
You moan weakly, complying with his request as your fingers slide down beneath you, grazing circles over your engorged clit, choked-out whimpers coming from you as Jake began thrusting into you hard and rough, his skin slapping you so hard you thought there would be red marks from the sheer ferocity of it.
"Oh, god--Jake--" You wail into the pillow, your fingers swiping and circling more and more, trying desperately to match his pace as your squishy, wet walls crushed his cock beneath their fluttering onslaught.
He growled and fisted a large bit of the straps in one hand, pulling your ass back against him, watching as your skin rippled and jiggled with every slap as he fucked into you over and over.
"Fuck, yes. Just. Like. That." He hissed, each word punctuated by a slam of his hips into yours.
You could feel another orgasm just about to burst, your head swimming in that blissful haze as Jake plowed into you at a bruising, aching pace.
"Such a gorgeous mamí." Jake said to you, his voice was heady with arousal.
"So fucking pretty, such a good fucking mamí. Sabes lo bonita que eres, ¿no?"
Your mind was turned to mush as your orgasm washed over you, filling every pore with a dizzying pleasure, rendering you barely aware of what he was saying, let alone to translate it as his hips snapped into you one final time.
However... You felt a new sensation inside of you, and with a few jagged, harsh thrusts, you felt Jake cum inside of you, flooding your deepest reaches with his thick load, making your eyes snap open.
"Shit." He groaned, pulling out of you, watching as the ripped condom clung to his cock, a thick ring of white at the base as he ran a shaky hand through his hair.
"Well, now. This is a pickle." He laughed.
"Jake, you--you know that--" You sputter, groaning as you roll over to look at him.
The bastard didn't seem upset in the slightest; that cheeky little shit!
"Yeah, yeah, mamí." Jake smirked at you as he pulled the ruined condom off of his cock as he caressed one of your spread thighs idly.
"Then why aren't you--FUCK!" You wail, feeling him bottom back out in one deep thrust, your nails scraping his skin at the blinding sensation.
Jake grinned as he nipped at your throat, "Baby, whatever happens, we aren't going anywhere. Even if that means I stuff you so full--or Steven or Marc--that your belly gets all cute and round."
You whimpered and gripped at the meat of his shoulders as he started fucking into you again, blood once more rushing straight through his dick, renewing him with more energy and drive.
"I think Vicky would love a baby brother or sister, no?" He muttered out, his tongue dragging over your fluttering pulse as it hammered against your skin. "So... Why don't we give 'er one?"
"D-did y-you even a-ask M-Marc or St-Steven?!" You cried, bouncing and pushing against your pillows and blankets as he fucked you.
"Don't have to... They've fantasized about it enough already." He laughed.
His lips kiss and glide over your skin as he rips the upper part of your ensemble down, freeing your breasts to bounce free from their strappy confines as Jake whispers in your ear.
"And believe me... Marc definitely wants to fill you up, now, bebita."
#moon knight#steven grant#marc spector#jake lockley#marc spector x reader#marc spector x you#steven grant x reader#steven grant x you#jake lockley x reader#jake lockley x you#moon knight smut
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yessss that defo answers my questions! ur thoughts on compassion & community intertwined w rebellion definitely show up in ur art lol. something more specific i have been curious abt is ur version of the endings of each specific hunger games & ur characterization/portrayal of the victors at those points! if u have any more thoughts abt any of those characters or their games id love to hear.... im also very not neurotypical abt hunger games
For sure!!
But this is a novel and a half so I apologize in advance
(also most of this is from memory so anyone can correct me if I'm getting any details wrong)
((TW: For visual depictions of Blood, Gore, and Wounds))
I realized I'd seen barely any art showing what the victors would have looked like when they won their games. They were all just kids and I feel like it can be easy to forget that sometimes
For all of them, I made the background one of their main "weapons" but tried to make it look like its turning back on them instead since there are no victors as Haymitch said.
I'll try to explain them all more in depth individually going in the order I drew them:
Finnick Odair, 65th Games:
His main weapons were his trident and nets that he made with vines. His background is one of the nets ready to trap him.
Finnick was the youngest victor ever at only 14. I really really wanted to emphasize just how little that is. (Especially since we know exactly why the Capitol loved him from the start…) Once I actually drew him looking that little I had to step away for a bit because I made myself too sad…
Outside of just how horrific his age is as a concept, I tried to think about what circumstances would lead to him actually winning when surrounded by older tributes.
I think he would have had to avoid any kind of fight he didn't have the upper hand in. We know that he got the most expensive sponsor gifts in the history of the games (a trident), so he probably got plenty of sponsors outside of that as well. Because of that I doubt he needed to go looking for supplies much if ever so it was easy to avoid people there. He was also probably in a career pack, despite his age, due to his training and his popularity, and they would have hunted other tributes down together much like the one we saw in the first book (safer in numbers).
Once it was narrowing down and the pack broke is when I think he started catching people in nets.
All of that is a long winded way of saying that's why, unlike the other victors I drew, I only show him with minor cuts and bruises.
Originally I was going to draw him with a kind of strained smile like he was acting for an audience from the start. But I decided I actually think its sadder if he believed he was popular because of his skill and strategy as a fighter and only learned the whole truth after he won and that's when he started acting more for the camera.
Instead I gave him a more muted despair kind of look, like his world is crashing down.
One of my favorite parts about the movies, mainly THG and ABOSAS, is when they give the career tributes at the end a moment of realization about what they've done, and I wanted to give Finnick his. I'm a person that believes Finnick had to have volunteered for his games. I think he would have legitimately believed in the propaganda the career districts were fed and had a bit of a (very middle school boy) ego about his abilities.
(I was NOT expecting to write so much about his lmao)
Enobaria, 62nd Games
She's most well known for ripping someones throat out with her teeth. (Her background is her sharpened teeth getting ready to eat her.) This is treated by The Capitol, and by Katniss, as grotesque and terrifying blood lust (Which obviously the Capitol loves her for).
However, and I'm not at all the first to say it, that sounds more like a terrified and desperate attempt to survive a fight she was losing and an example of hysterical strength. We know that Career packs have had bloody betrayals in the past and I can see Enobaria being a part of one of them. Enobaria doesn't have a canonical age, but I decided to put her on the younger side (15 or 16.) I can imagine some of the older, bigger tributes deciding she was the weakest link towards the end and that was the result.
I tried to make the blood around her mouth and down her shirt look more faded, like she tried desperately to wipe it off
(Also I had to step away from drawing again after I drew her little tooth gap)
I think she probably leaned into the bloodthirsty image afterwards as a way to protect herself and (maybe even started to believe it too)
Annie Cresta, 70th Games
Annie's known for losing her mind after seeing her district partner decapitated in front of her. After that, she ran off and hid until the game makers started an earth quake, which made the large dam in the arena break and cause a huge flood. Annie was the only survivor because she was the strongest swimmer.
So I decided to make her background dark water that's churning up and over her head.
I also think it can work well as a way to show her mental state in the moment (and afterwards)
Annie is actually one of my favorite characters in the series and I've been writing out a plan for a possible comic series about her that'll go more in depth about my headcanons for her. (when I say comic series, I mean sketches and oneshots, not a full thing lmao)
It wouldn't take place during her games (outside of a few flashbacks when I need more context), instead it would start at her Victory Tour and go into her first (and last) year as a mentor for the 71st Games. Which is a perfect segue to-
Johanna Mason, 71st Games
Johanna is actually first mentioned early on in the first book when Katniss is wondering if the reason Peeta is crying is because he plans to act weak and helpless as a strategy in the games. (Katniss, he just found out he has to fight in a murder tournament with his crush. He's just Sad.)
She bases her theory on Johanna, who pretended she was a "sniveling, cowardly fool" in the arena until the final stretch of the games when she proved to be deadly with an axe.
OR….. Katniss is an unreliable narrator and Johanna was actually a terrified kid from a district with so few victors that she was the only name in the bowl for the Quarter Quell… This is totally just a personal headcanon of mine tho lol.
I think there would have been a point in her games where she realized she actually had a chance and that's when she seemingly had a huge character turn around. Maybe there was a infighting with the careers that ended in multiple deaths and there was only a few left along with any other tributes hiding away like her. Maybe she poked around what was left of their camp, found the axe, and felt strength from her district.
Her background was a little harder for me. Just slapping a big axe behind her felt cheesy. But them I remembered her saying there was no one left that she loved.
So instead I put trees that could represent her loved ones (Two fully grown trees, a younger "teenage" tree, and a sapling) that are in the process of being cut down.
Haymitch Abernathy, 50th Games
Don't worry, I'm almost done.
I don't have as much to say about Haymitch since we know SO much about what happened in his games. But his background was probably the hardest for me. His main weapon was invisible after all. I thought maybe the axe that was used, but again, That would look cheesy. I tried (and kinda failed imo) to draw the cliff side the force field was on instead. But the main thing I did was split the three panels I had on the previous drawings into six for two reasons. 1: Because he had to face twice as many tributes in order to win and 2: Being the only victor of a district that's tributes are seen as fodder for the blood bath means he had to meet and watch the death of twice as many kids every year.
#tw blo0d#tw g0re#tw wounds#the hunger games#catching fire#mockingjay#hunger games fanart#hunger games headcanon#thg series#ask#finnick odair#enobaria#annie cresta#johanna mason#haymitch abernathy#jolly art
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DD pt 3 part 2 of 2
Fem reader x Miguel O'Hara who is your Uber driver
This art was commissioned to accompany this chapter by the incredibly talented @/ejpuki on Instagram. Please go support the original artist!
Pt 1 , Pt 2 , Pt 3 1 , Part 4 , Part 5
Synopsis- fem reader drinks too much and the bartender calls a random Uber for her which happens to be Miguel O'Hara himself. Her friends suck and ditch her. There's a lot of tension on the ride home...
TW: MINORS DNI, some blood, little.violence, suggestive content ,age gap (reader 26, Miguel 34), this one is a sad one, inspired by the original comic
-----
Over the next few days you two text back and forth and talk on the phone. You feel so happy and excited about this budding romance between you two. It's been so long since you felt safe enough to let yourself catch feelings for a guy. You flood his phone while he's at work. Miguel isn't used to someone texting him so often but it's kind of cute how you update him on every little thing that's happening in your day and he has to try not to burst out laughing in the break room at some of the Instagram reels you send him.
Your text convo:
Miguel (pookie 🐻❤️) : Why tf would you send me a video of a banana cat with that sad music 😂😐🤨 and who is that white guy that's always randomly showing up at the end of videos with that whistle tune playing?
You(amor ❤️): it's a meme babe you don't get it😂😂😂 it's supposed to be random, that's what makes it funny af. And that's Josh Hutcherson. You've never seen or read Hunger Games?!
Miguel(pookie 🐻❤️): no, I haven't. Your sense of humor is a little broken I'm afraid. 🤨 You kids and your memes.
You(amor ❤️): my sense of humor is just fine 😂LMAO you're only like 8 years older than me. 😂 we're watching it immediately! And we're going to Barnes and Noble to get you a copy. 😇
Miguel(pookie 🐻❤️): hmmm fine.😌 When would you like to, cutie? ❤️
You(amor ❤️): This weekend please? ❤️❤️❤️
Miguel(pookie 🐻❤️): I'm so sorry, I'll have Gabi with me. But she'll be at her mom's next weekend. Can we do it then? ❤️
You(amor ❤️): that's okay I totally understand! ❤️ Yes please! I'm so excited ❤️ I miss you...
Miguel(pookie 🐻❤️): perfect. I miss you more. ❤️
---------
Next Friday
Miguel drives to work, his heart like a dead weight in his chest and his mind racing with different scenarios on how he's going to tell his boss he's had enough. This isn't what he signed up for. The project he was overseeing at work was trying to create these "special abilities"in humans. One of the test subjects passed away this week and he'd be lying to himself if he said it wasn't messing with his head. He had nightmares about her. She couldn't have been older than 19. Her blue eyes frantic as she realized she might not make it off the lab table alive. Her horrified screams ringing in his eardrums. Miguel's fist clamped tighter around the steering wheel as he choked back a sob. He felt this was his burden to shoulder alone. He knew he was falling for you steadily now, and he didn't want you to go crazy worrying about him. He knows you love to try and fix people, a lot of times to your detriment and couldn't stand to see you in that position or live with the fact that he put you there.
He really didn't care for his boss, Tyler Stone either. Tyler Stone was the 6'3, blonde haired, blue eyed, egotistical vice president over Research and Development at Alchemax. He and the other higher ups just spent all day figuratively (and possibly literally) sucking each other off in boardroom meetings for the hard work everyone underneath them was doing. He was a businessman, not a scientist, and it became clear to Miguel that profit came first for him over scientific discovery and advancement, and his cronies shared the same philosophy.
Miguel faced the man now, sitting in his office. Tyler sighed and walked over to his decanter set that sat in the corner of his office on top of a polished mahogany drink cabinet.
"Care for some bourbon?" He asked, rolling up his sleeves.
Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded, closing his eyes for a moment.
"It pains me to hear that you're wanting to leave, it really does." Tyler says as he pours the bourbon in two short, square glasses.
"I chose you because I believed you could handle it. Your track record doesn't lie, Miguel. You were top of your class at Columbia University. I've seen your research and read your thesis that you did with them. You know Dain was actually the one that submitted your nomination to me when I was looking for someone to promote?" Tyler hands the glass of bourbon to Miguel who murmurs a low thank you.
"My point is, if you leave, I got no one to replace you, and that makes my job even more tough." Tyler takes a sip of his bourbon and makes a small face. "I'm going to bat for your little science project every time I meet with the board of directors. I'll be honest with you, they're ready to trim the fat." Tyler's blue eyes bore into Miguel's over the rim of his glass. "But I tell them that this process, is worth the wait. We won't have these superhuman abilities lined up for purchase on shelves tomorrow. But give or take a few years we will be the first to break 100 bil in quarterly revenue when we roll this out to the public. My point is, I'm willing to do whatever I gotta do to keep this project afloat because I've ran the numbers, I've seen what guys like you and Dain can do. It's a worthwhile investment."
Miguel takes a sip of his bourbon and winces. Fuck it, he downs the rest of the whiskey, his throat on fire. He holds out his empty glass to Tyler who takes it and goes to refill it, his back turned to Miguel.
"I'm sorry...." Miguel finally says. "I've made up my mind. I'm flattered that you think I'm the right person for this job, but I'm telling you, I don't want to be the guy who all of this is riding on anymore. I'm not gonna gamble if people's lives are the chips."
Tyler's face went dark and he started tapping the side of his glass, his back still turned to Miguel.
Since when did this fucker grow a conscience? He knows he wouldn't be doing this job if he wasn't getting paid for it either right? He'd given Miguel and his team resources that any group of scientists would give their left kidney for. It was thanks to him in those board meetings that those ungrateful bastards even still had a job. And now their hang up is human test subjects?
Tyler handed Miguel back another glass and said nothing as he watched Miguel down it. Miguel winced again as he finished his liquor, throat still on fire and cheeks starting to flush.
Tyler turned back around, looking at the now setting sun on the horizon. "I'm afraid I can't let you go." He said calmly.
Miguel raised an eyebrow, then suddenly his face turned white when Tyler held up an empty vial of Rapture, his back still turned to him. Tyler spoke again, his back still facing Miguel. "Alchemax is the only distributor of Rapture. Leave if you want, but I'm going to have to be forced to let the board know and involve law enforcement when they realize one of their silly little scientists couldn't keep his hands out of the cookie jar and became a needy little addict." He took a long sip.
"You're not gonna make me look like a weak little bitch in front of the whole board. I don't lose, Miguel. You're not gonna fuck this up for me."
Enraged, Miguel shot up, shattering the shot glass in his hand, blood gushing out of his fingers. "You fucking piece of shit!"
Tyler remained calm. "You wanna hurt me? Go right ahead. I used your sign in to get this vial from the lab. The access history and empty vial next to my dead body will just deepen the hole you dug yourself. Either do as I say, or throw away your freedom right now and kill me before you even had a chance to see your little girl go to Prom."
Miguel paused. This fucker was playing chess with him. Tyler took another sip. "It'd be a damn shame if you did. Especially about that new slutty girlfriend of yours. Did you even get to find out what her pussy feels like?"
That was it. Miguel threw his chair against the wall, the wooden legs splintering into the cabinet Tyler was leaning up against, a neutral expression on his prick face as he sipped more bourbon.
Miguel turned and left the office, and slammed the door so hard the receptionist let out a small squeak of terror as Miguel tore down the hallway, rage seething out of his ears.
"Aaron?" Tyler asked in his cold expressionless voice.
A short, balding man in his mid-thirties with green eyes and thick black rimmed glasses stepped out from behind a two way mirror in the corner of Tyler's office.
"You rewrote the code in Machine A-2099 in sector 8, right?"
"Yes boss."
--------
You hummed happily as you lit a few of your favorite vanilla almond scented candles on your coffee table. You went all out with a smorgasbord of treats for your movie date night with Miguel including popcorn, gummy worms, Milk Duds, Pretzels, M&Ms, beef jerky, and root beer floats. As soon as you got off work, you cleaned the whole apartment top to bottom and put fresh sheets on the bed. You checked your phone anxiously.
Text convo:
Miguel (pookie 🐻❤️): Good morning beautiful ❤️ how'd you sleep? Have a great day, I'll be at your apartment at 8 pm.
You(amor ❤️): you just made my whole morning!🥰🥰 Good morning handsome! I slept great! I'm so looking forward to movie night tonight. I have a bunch of treats and goodies for us to snack on too. 😇
Miguel (pookie 🐻❤️): that sounds wonderful, baby. ❤️ Driving to work now, I'll text you when I get there but I'm not going to be able to talk much today. I have a meeting with the boss and a bunch of other stuff related to the project I'm overseeing. Just wanted to let you know not to worry ❤️ I'll call you at 6!
6 pm came and went and you felt sick to your stomach.
You(amor ❤️): Babe? Everything okay, I tried you twice.
Nothing.
You (amor ❤️): Miguel? It's 9 pm. Are you okay? Please just call or text me to let me know everything's okay...
It was now 10 pm. He wasn't coming. Your stomach lay in knots. You had called him 28 times with no answer.
What's happening? Is he cheating on me? Did he get into an accident? Is he dead on the side of the road while I'm hundreds of miles away and can't do anything?
He gets busy at work but he always, always checks in with you. You can't help but fight back tears at his untouched root beer float sitting next to yours. You knew going into this that you had to jump, knowing you were gonna fall and he might not be there to catch you. Well, here you were with a small dagger in your heart on what was supposed to be your second date. You couldn't help but let yourself get in your head. His rejection of you this time confirmed everything you feared about yourself. You laid down on the couch and sobbed quietly to sleep.
------
That same night at Alchemax
Miguel's painful screams reverberated off the tiled floor of the genetics lab at Alchemax. The tall powerful man he was, was writhing on the floor in agony. It was as though his blood had turned to acid. His whole body felt on fire. Please God, if I'm supposed to die right now just take me already. He hadn't felt pain this intense ever before in his life. His eyes turned bloodshot, foaming at the mouth as his saliva bubbled and splurted out in incoherent gasps.
Aside from his screams, the machine responsible for his pain let out a low beep. Miguel knew that a copy of his original DNA sample was logged into one of the gene altering machines that he set up when he was first put in charge of Tyler's superhuman project. He knew that as long as he had a drop of Rapture in him, he'd remain an addict defenseless against his new dependency Tyler forced on him. He had tried in vain to rewrite his current biology back to the original, but Tyler was one step ahead. Tyler knew nothing about science or how DNA worked, but it didn't take much to convince Miguel's bitter, jealous subordinate, Aaron Delgado to sabotage the machine. Very little was known about what type of effect that might have on a human, so there was a good chance he'd just die. Just what they wanted. Aaron and Tyler's smug faces entered the lab, watching Miguel suffer and taunting him, even pouring up another round of bourbon while they waited for the show to end. Yep, he'd be dead in just a few more minutes. They had an alibi and a cover up ready to go. They'd post his job opening by Monday and then they could pretend like this never happened. Miguel suddenly became still, his chest seeming to freeze in place, no longer rising and falling with his normal breathes.
Gabriella, my little girl...I'm so sorry....I love you more than anything
His eyes became glassy with tears. He was on his way to finding happiness with you too, only to have the rug pulled out from under him, now he was going to die here, alone. And those who killed him would never know justice behind their corporate wall of privilege and greed that would surely protect them. He uttered your name, his lips barely moving before his eyes fell closed and saw only black..
----
Pt 4 coming soon! Thanks for the support 🖤
@mysteris-things
#miguel o'hara#miguel x reader#miguel atsv#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel ohara#across the spiderverse#fanfic#Spotify
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To be honest I already miss Smiley in a totally very normal amount. I recently got into the silly little goober and honestly kind of want a drabble about them if that's alright with you. Maybe about darling who got close to a fellow co-worker and seems to have a small crush on them, only for darling to receive a long ass note about why darling shouldn't hang out with them, followed by that co-worker to go missing shortly afterwards.
— 👾
Of course!! Smiley is huge silly billy lol - one thing known about them for sure is that they’re a huge overthinker based on all the notes and assumptions they make so absurd no coworker is making it out alive if they get too close lmao.
I tried to keep the love rival coworker gender neutral/ambiguous jic. :]
TW: Stalking, Obsession, Murder, Taunts
Office jobs are lonely, and even more so when you have a stalker, so gaining an unexpected ally was a godsend in your eyes. It started purely by fluke - you both accidentally grabbed each other’s lunches from the fridge since you used the same brand of sandwich bags and ended up meeting in the breakroom to swap them, followed by some small talk to break the embarrassing tension. That’s how you met Sam, and gained a new friend. It did cross your mind that perhaps Sam could have been your stalker, but there wasn’t a surefire way to know whether or not that was just paranoia. It wasn’t until by chance you learned that Sam only used blue pens that you let your guard down, at which point you confided in Sam.
Sitting together, alone in the breakroom one lunchtime, you show them the notes that have been left on your desk, asking if they recognised the handwriting. Sam’s mouth hung agape as they read the post it notes, unable to believe that this had been going on.
“No, I don’t recognise it. Have you been to HR about this?”
“I tried,” you tell Sam, “but they claim they can’t do anything.”
“That’s such bullcrap! Don’t they realise you could be in danger here?” Sam pauses for a moment, before speaking again. “Tomorrow’s Friday again. My family has a holiday home, maybe you can crash there until it’s safer.” You don’t waste any time agreeing, feeling as though a weight has been lifted from you. You both spend the rest of the day planning the escape as you pretend to work, occasionally going to each other’s cubicles to let each other know that the holiday home is definitely empty right now or that you booked paid time off or other such important details. They people in the neighbouring cubicles raise their eyebrows as they notice you both sticking close to each other.
At the end of the day, just as you’re putting your coat on to leave, a coworker whose name escapes you walks past. Cheerfully, they call to you, not stopping even as they speak.
“Seems you and Sam have taken a shine to one another!” Their voice is cheerful, mocking. You go red from the embarrassment.
“It’s not like that,” you say sheepishly, but they’d already walked away. You didn’t have feelings for Sam - not at first at least. But now you were questioning yourself. Sam was kind, and selfless and extremely generous to have offered a place to stay, and they were fairly attractive in your opinion too. But you didn’t want to take advantage of their good deed. Besides, it was too early to tell if you really liked them; but you’d have plenty of time to get your head straight and figure it out. There was no rush.
Friday morning arrives and you’re excited for your trip, but the moment you walk into the office, something seems off. You walk to your cubicle and see your coworkers all in small huddles, or quietly sitting at their desks but not working. A few are even crying. You make a detour, going to Sam’s cubicle to ask what was going on, only to find they weren’t at their desk.
“Ah, you were a friend of Sam’s, weren’t you?” A coworker asks tenderly as they come up behind you. You freeze, your blood running cold.
“What’s happening?” You ask, but you already know.
“They found Sam in a gutter. They aren’t sure yet how they ended up there but… well, it doesn’t look good.”
You can barely comprehend the news, and you end up in a daze as you leave, going back to your own cubicle. Tears cloud your vision and you sob the moment you reach your desk. Through the grief, it takes a while to notice the note on your desk. You grimace and snatch it up, crumpling it in your fist as you read it.
“Is this why you’re never home? Too busy enthralled by some office floozy? It’s alright, Darling. I forgive you. That homewrecker isn’t ever going to get in our way again. ╹◡╹”
Dividers Credit: See Pinned Post
#yancore#yandere#yandere blog#yandere fic#yandere imagines#yandere x darling#yandere drabble#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere x reader#yanblr#yandere x you#gender neutral yandere oc#gender neutral yandere#gender neutral reader#tw stalker#tw stalking#stalking#stalker#Smiley#Ask#Story
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Imagine Fucking Up Your Potions L.
(Kind of a shitpost)
Tw: brief mention of murder. Not much except Chrollo wanting to constantly touch MC
Imagine Chrollo happened to run into a goofy enemy who decided to throw a potion at him. Well, this enemy fucked up and threw the completely wrong potion. That's right a love potion.
But the effects don't show right away, so Chrollo kills the enemy as normal before going off on his way.
MC. MC is just another one of the troupe members. They happen to be the one that Chrollo bumps into first. Right away, Chrollo eyes are a bit more widened, looking slightly more unhinged. To MC, this isn't anything too weird. Just another day of him searching for blood.
When they get back to the base, Chrollo is acting odd.
He's asking where they were, who they might have interacted with, etc. He gets a lot more defensive if MC did happen to talk to someone (other than the troupe). He seems irritated.
Then he randomly stops. He goes back to reading, and everything is as it usually is again.
But you see, that's when the real shit hits.
In a few hours, Chrollo goes from calm to the neediest person ever. He asks MC to sit beside him, he starts to talk a lot more. He rambles on and on about how admirable MC is. He's holding their arm with two hands, tugging them as close as possible.
Of course, the members are weirded the fuck out. In no way does such a intelligent man turn into the human equivalent of a dog. But if they try to separate Chrollo away from MC or distract him from them he gets PISSY.
His whole demeanour goes dark, and it's taking his every will not to murder whoever. His hold on MC gets tighter, more desperate. (If he's provoked further more he will attack). Hence it's a challenge for Pakunoda to go through his memory.
The condition only gets worse as the hours pass by. At the peak of the effects, he'll be sitting on MC's lap, snuggling them. Poor MC has to dodge his kisses as much as possible.
It takes a while, but the members get either Shizuku to get rid of the potion, or wait for the effects to wear off (Max is like 3 days).
When Chrollo is no longer affected, he doesn't remember much. But he enjoyed being able to express his true feelings.
(Nom. Random idea I had. Honestly I'm just making Chrollo's image look so bad lmao)
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#chrollo#chrollo x reader#hxh#hunter x hunter#hxh x reader#phantom troupe#celina's shitposts
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So...I finished the Arlecchino story quest...
Spoilers below!
TW: Mentions of Suicide, Child Experimentation, Child Abuse, and Murder/Death
This is, by far, the best story quest I have ever done!
First of all, CHILDE?! CHILDE ESCAPING HIS PERSONAL AMBULANCE TO SNEZHNAYA JUST TO COME BACK TO FONTAINE TO ASK SKIRK A QUESTION? Bro is so funny, please-
please save him.
Wait, actually, yeah please do save him. Pulcinella and Pantalone are both plotting in the background, and they got Childe involved...
I also loved the children! Look at how terrifying they are! They're my absolute faves!!
Lyney cementing the reason as to why Arlecchino chose him as the next King is wonderful to see as well. For some time, I thought Freminet and Lynette had a shot, even with reading their lore. What I have failed to realize is that Lyney really is the inspiration for all of the people in the House of the Hearth. His frustrated and disappointed spiel about Freminet not trusting him with Clervie struck me to the heart. This is an older brother at work here people!
Also if I had a nickel every time a cryo younger brother hid a dangerous secret from his pyro older brother which got them into an argument once the truth came out, I'd have 2 nickels ✌️ (somehow gave me war flashbacks to a scene that doesn't even exist lmao)
LYNETTE IS THE FUNNIEST SIBLING BTW. SHE'S MY QUEEN FOR THIS.
Clervie! Our dearest! I'm not fully sure what part in her design did it, but she barely looks like an NPC somehow. Like, yes, this is still an NPC base model, but... is it perhaps the hair? And the extra lashes??
Also, her calling Arlecchino "Perrie" made me sob. I wasn't ready to hear nicknames!!
The mention of Snezhnayan auroras also made me sob again as well. You know what? This entire thing made me sob.
Clervie's dread and horror at the thought of her own mother, her unrelenting spirit that kept her going in her fight for her fellow peers freedom despite the abuse that she will receive, and her unfulfilled dreams repeatedly being mentioned throughout this quest was heartbreaking.
I do have to say- the animations they released for Arlecchino helped a lot with the emotions we are supposed to feel for this quest. Not only was that good Advertising and promotion for the Arlecchino banner, it also set up the plot that would have not been well presented ingame had they chose to do that instead.
Crucabena and Clervie part of this quest were not the only ones mentioned in this quest, but also that damn dude that she killed with her heels! I personally like the way they released all those animations because the quest feels more emotional and alive now, and we could follow with the story better than before (and it effectively increased the hype)
Speaking of more alive, the facial expressions have definitely improved! This quest had them utilizing various expressions well, specifically for the playable characters, so, again, this really helped with the feel of the quest.
Additionally, adding a picture to scenes also set the tone really well. It's not that pictures have never been included in quests before, but the way these were framed(?) made it look way better than the ones before.
By the way...is it just me? Or did Paimon's voice somewhat mellow out for this quest? I had recently played some other story and world quests, and Paimon's EN voice is admittedly high-pitched and painful to hear in those, but for this quest, it's as if her voice was toned down (like Mondstadt Paimon, but with current Paimon energy). I'm hoping this was them taking the criticism from past and adjusting their instructions to Paimon's VA accordingly, because I loved Paimon's voice in this quest (that or I'm delulu)
Quick lore tidbits before I go back to gushing about this quest:
1. Arlecchino confirmed not from Fontaine (like I legit thought she may be Khaenri'ahn due to the blood moon thing she has going for her, but it's nice to confirm her non-Fontainian status)
2. Crucabena was the one who had a deal with Dottore on sending members of the HotH to him for experimentation. Anyone who was physically impaired or left alive after a duel to death are automatically sent to him. Clervie has described this as a fate worse than death... Peruere rejected Dottore's partnership offer once she became the next knave. Also, Crucabena used Clervie as an "example" for those who wish to escape, meaning Clervie received the most abuse (which apparently worsened as the years went by). Clervie lost hope sometime along the way and was basically suicidal as well by the time she and Arlecchino had their duel... Her mindset by that time is that the only hope for freedom to her is death. The popular theory of Clervie letting Arlecchino kill her is proven in a horrifying way with this discovery... (yes, she wanted Arlecchino to be the king, but at the same time, she took this situation as a chance to hit 2 birds with 1 stone)
3. Project Stuzha is apparently something highly dangerous, and Pulcinella and Pantalone are trying to get Childe and Arlecchino involved (Childe was told to aide the project by Pulcinella, while Arlecchino says she doesnt want the HotH to be involved in it)
4. Here is me reannouncing that I am in fact taking the L on the Freminet and Crucabena situation. Basically, the timeline is that at age 16, Clervie dies, and we are left with a 1 year time period for a 6 year old Freminet to enter under Crucabena (I'm guessing this is either a retcon or a means to hide the Arlecchino plot by not having them directly say mother in Freminet's character story 4). After that said 1 year, Peruere kills Crucabena and has spent several months in Snezhnaya before reviving the House of the Hearth and adopting Lyney and Lynette (perhaps the children of Crucabena's HotH simply stuck together during that time)
Basically, yes, Arlecchino is in her mid-20s. Not my personal cup of tea, but hey, genshin ages are confusing most days (Ayato is older than her, and Ayaka may actually be older than her as well... ugh I need a moment please... I MAY BE THE SAME AGE AS HER. NO-)
5. Freminet used to also call Lyney "brother". What changed that, I'm not sure (and if I had a nickel...), but the thought of baby Freminet following around big bro Lyney and big sis Lynette makes my heart melt. Freminet actually cried after Lyney basically told him how important Fremi is to him, so whoever made Freminet think otherwise... 😡 they better square up because we ride at dawn
ok back to me gushing
THE BOSS FIGHT? IT WAS SO COOL! It was beautifully animated, and the fact that they added this at the end?
The fear on the traveler's eyes upon realization of what true power Arlecchino held was amazing imo. We canonically cannot defeat Arlecchino in her boss fight! She will be a weekly boss that we can defeat, but in actuality, we really cannot beat the number 4 of the Fatui Harbringers.
We now have actual proof that harbringers 1-4 are not within our capabilities to challenge, and to add to that horror, this is us fighting Arlecchino with Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet. This is also actual proof that we, the traveler, cannot defeat a ton of other characters as well! (were cooked if we never get a power boost and plot armor✌️)
Also let me sneak in this picture:
Cunty as fck. Powerpuff girls energy. They're the Heathers, and we, the traveler, are Veronica.
And finally, the last part of my commentary that cemented this quest as my top 1:
Everything Arlecchino has done for the House of the Hearth, it was all thanks to Clervie and her dreams.
Arlecchino has shaped the HotH into a more honest relationship between her as the father and them as her children. Everything Clervie hated about the old HotH is now nonexistent in this version.
The children could be set free.
Duels are not to death.
They will not be sent to their doom if they lose.
This is everything that Clervie dreamed of, and this is everything Clervie tragically never got to see and experience because she lost all hope.
Clervie's story ended in tragedy, but Peruere lived and breathed Clervie's dreams for her anyway. Seeing the aurora was the start of Peruere finding the goal of living Clervie's dream, and now, Arlecchino strives to do her best to see those dreams come to fruition.
And the qualities that Peruere admired in Clervie are the same qualities that made her want Lyney to become the next king. Hopeful, caring, protective, passionate, and full of conviction. Lyney will take the mantle and live and breathe for Clervie's and Peruere's dreams someday.
Honestly, I have more to say, but I think this is a good place to stop for now. The dynamics of all these characters have made this experience worthwhile, and I hope that genshin continues with this sort of style in the future. Here's to more amazing stories from genshin!
Bonus screenshot while we are still here:
#genshin spoilers#arlecchino#lyney#lynette#freminet#genshin 4.6 spoilers#tw: suicide mention#tw: abuse mention#tw: experimentation#tw: mentions of death#tw: mentions of abuse#you know what#I'll say it here in the tags#clervie wouldve loved mondstadt#she wanted to be a bard! her reaction to mond was so cute!
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TRAPPED PT. 2
a/n: okay wow i didn’t think that many ppl would want a part 2 lmao. sorry, i’ve been busy w schoolwork but i finally got around to writing the second part 🙏🙏
previous part
tw: sewing up a wound? idk it’s not very graphic but i feel like it should be noted
“How could I be so stupid!” Villain cried out, running their hands up their face, then pushing the heels of their palms against their eyes.
They sighed deeply and let their hands fall to their sides before glancing over at Hero. They were just sitting there, staring at a random point on the floor. It shocked Villain to see how pale their face had gotten, “God, Hero. I’m- Christ, I don’t even know what to do. Say something, please. Yell at me, punch me, do something.”
Hero didn’t seem to even register that Villain was speaking, they just sat there, looking like a kicked puppy.
“Shit, I’m going to help you, you’re going to be okay. I promise, Hero,” Villain said, it felt almost like they were talking to the wall of their prison cell.
“Hello? Is there anyone there?” Villain called out, half expecting no one to answer but in a moment a face peeked around the corner, someone that Villain assumed was the guard Supervillain left to keep them in check. However, the guard looked scared half out of their mind.
“Yes?” They answered. Villain had to hold back a grin, it was good to know that they still had that effect on people.
“We need medical supplies in here, Hero is practically bleeding out.”
The guard swallowed nervously, “Um, I don’t know if I’m allowed to give you anything.”
Villain rolled their eyes, “Right, which would make sense if I asked you for a sword or something, but I doubt I could get very far with a roll of gauze.”
The guard bit their lip, running the options through their mind for a moment before nodding, “Okay, I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
“Right, I’ll keep that in mind,” Villain muttered to themselves as the guard left.
“I-I’m sorry.”
Villain quickly turned to see Hero laying there, their eyes glistening with tears.
“I shouldn’t have come here, all I’ve done is mess things up. Escape while you have a chance, so both of us don’t have to be stuck here,” Hero managed to rasp out.
Villain shook their head, “Don’t talk like that. I’ll get you patched up and we’ll find a way out of here, it was my fault we’re here in the first place.” Just then the guard came back with the supplies, opening the cell door and handing them to Villain. For a moment, Villain glanced at the open door, freedom was right there. All they had to do was subdue the guard and make it out before anyone notices they are gone. In the corner of their eye, however, lay Hero, shivering and pale. They ripped their gaze from the door and quickly snatched the kit from the guard’s hands and turned to Hero. The resounding sound of a lock clicking echoed through their cell and Villain sighed, their shoulders slumping. Well, no turning back now, they thought. They shook their head to dispel those thoughts and got to work. It didn’t seem to be too bad of a wound, it was deep, but it was a clean cut.
“Okay, I’m going to pour some alcohol on it to clean it out, it’s gonna hurt like a bitch, but we don’t want it to get infected.”
Hero nodded, smiling softly, “It’s not as bad as looking at your face.”
Villain chuckled, “Right, why did I think that you were ever capable of being serious?” They then poured the liquid over the cut as Hero gritted their teeth together, sucking in a deep breath.
“See, I knew you could do it,” Villain smiled down at Hero who gave an exhausted laugh. From then on it was easy work, sewing the wound closed and wrapping gauze around Hero’s midsection to soak up any more blood and protect it from the grimey cell they were in.
“There, all done.” Hero grunted as they attempted to sit up, but Villain was quick to put a hand on Hero’s chest and back, leading them back to a laying down position.
“Christ, Hero, you’re not invincible. Don’t try doing anything too drastic,” Villain chided.
“Oh, right, I forgot” Hero said in a dazed tone, their eyes half lidded.
Villain drew back their hands, Hero now laying down flat on their cot, their blinks getting longer and longer as their adrenaline had now faded.
“You know what?” Hero asked, staring at Villain through their eyelashes, “I always thought you were pretty.”
Villain stared down at Hero in disbelief, heat rising to their cheeks, “I- what?” But Hero had already fallen asleep, chest rising and falling in a steady pattern. Villain stood there for a moment, face contorted in confusion before they let out a sharp laugh.
“God, Hero, you are something else” Villain chuckled to themself.
Reaching over, they ran their hand through Hero’s hair before tucking a loose strand of hair behind Hero’s ear. Villain quickly pulled their hand back, feeling as if they were snapping out of a trance, “Fuck, what am I doing?” They couldn’t afford connections, especially not with Hero. They had to remember where they were, who they were. I need to get out of here, before I do anything else stupid, Villain thought.
#medical inaccuracies#i am not a doctor#and it shows#villain x hero#hero x villain#hero#villain#enemies to lovers#hurt/comfort#writeblr#writing
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okokokokkk i'm requesting! can you make ( yandere alphabet ) A, B, C, F, N and X for blade please? i know this is too much but-- i'm crushing on the yandere characters you write, lyra!
PAIRING : yandere! blade x fem! reader
TW : lots of YANDERE tendencies!, blood, violence, overlove, overjealousy, manipulation, kidnapping, psychological manipulation, isolation, gaslighting, ghosting, unhealthy actions, unhealthy relationship, blade smothering the reader, reader being dumb.
NOTE : ohhhhh, it's totally fine and i'm so happy that you requested me anon! :)) and ugh- please just write your request only in one ask not like this... and this is my last fem reader because i am not good at writing i mean specifyimg the reader’s gender exclusively, especially in smuts, so i decided to write for gn readers only, gotcha?
and i’m sorry for being ( really ) late and writing too short! i newly recovered from my depression.
i wish i could write better. and posting more of my writings but my time is very limited-
SENSITIVES, BLANK BLOGS & MINORS DNI !
Affection ( how do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get? ) :
he would show his love in every way; pampering you with gifts, feeding you by his hands that he cooked them all for you, giving you kisses/hugs/compliments everyday if you behave well and… locking you up in your room and not allowing you to go out, telling you most terrifying scenarios what would happen if you didn’t accept to be his lover,
Blood ( how messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling ) :
oh, come on. this stellaron hunter isn't afraid of having his hands bloody when it comes to his dear girl.
he has a potential of destroying a planet, even the whole universe for you, his dear darling.
because you’re his precious beloved, just enjoy him going crazy over you <3 .
let me tell you a story. one day, you were just hanging around with him
Cruelty ( how would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them ) :
he would use some drugs on you to calm you after kidnapping you first, but these drugs are too heavy for you so you probably would feel hazy for a week or more.
he would use every type of manipulation on you to make you all his. to make you not wake up in an utopical dream that waking up would result with a dystopia.
you would live in a big and cozy house but you aren’t allowed to go out, you have a terrace and balconies to have some oxygen, right?
Fight ( how would they feel if their darling fought back? ) :
he would simply block your attacks and ignore your help cries because he’s a patient type who can wait for you to shut up.
but if you push his buttons, he would not hold himself from manhandling you to shut up.
Naughty ( how would they punish their darling? )
he would treat you like a witch in middle ages. he’s a priest and you’re an innocent woman who have committed a witchcraft, aka blasphemy, but the priest won’t punish her lawfully. he’ll only make her don’t do it again. isn’t that simple to say?
but the process will never be easy on you no matter what the conditions are.
he’ll give you less food, less attention filled with more isolation and more cruelty.
Xoanon ( how much would they revere or worship their darling? to what length would they go to win their darling over? ) :
bro, i can’t say something specific to say that he would obviously worship you ( i swear it’s the only thing what i don’t understand lmao ).
but i can say he has two sides:
one; he would treat you like you’re worthless slave.
two; he would treat you like you’re his very dear darling and he would destroy the whole universe for you ( i accept him as a green flag ZORT )
( masterlist )
#▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇#╱╳╱╱ 𝙽𝙾 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳𝚂 𝙽𝙴𝙴𝙳𝙴𝙳 𝚂𝚃𝙾𝚁𝙸𝙴𝚂 𝙸𝙽 𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙴𝚈𝙴𝚂. ╲╲╳╲#▱ 𝔩𝔶𝔡𝔦𝔞 𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤 ▰#꒰ఎ ♡ ໒꒱#:·. ̗̀✦案 .۰ lyra's realm#୨୧┄┈୨୧#yanderealm#blade#yandere blade#yandere honkai star rail#blade honkai#hoyoverse#honkai#honkai star rail blade#blade x reader#blade x female reader#fem reader#yandere alphabet#my psycho husbando uwu#hsr x y/n#blade hsr#hsr x reader#hsr blade#hsr blade x reader#yandere hsr#fluff#yandere fluff#🌻 lyra talks#🔗 lydia talks#minors do not interact
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NOT THE BEST IDEA — Modern!AU | Part 3
MASTERLIST | Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 3 ; Part 4
Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader x Aemond Targaryen.
Summary: the aftermath of the fight is making you feel like your old self again. Cregan noticed something is wrong and decides to do something to cheer you up, however things don't go as planned as an unwanted guest arrives.
Tags/TW: angst, smut (p in v, kinda public sex bc they are in open space) and fluff, mentions of panic attacks, emotional instability and emotional attachment, manipulation, aegon being oblivious but cute.
Author's Note: not gonna lie, I did struggle writing this part bc my mind wasn't working lmao, but I hope you like this either way. big credits to the anons who sent their ideas !! I didn't proof read it so, sorry if there's mistakes
Word Count: 6.4k
Tag List: @immyowndefender @bellameshipper @mysticgothicgirl @aemondswifeisme @issshhh @serrhaewin @loglady00 @melsunshine @izzy-the-ginger @champomiel @iiamthehybrid @ghostheartbeat
Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome!!
Cregan hissed when he felt the little piece of cotton brushing against the cut on his cheekbone. You tried your best to clean the wound, getting rid of the dried blood while your mind was so lost in your thoughts that you barely heard him complaining about the slight pain he felt with each touch.
Your mind was now a mess, and it was quite hard to hide that aspect from Cregan, who was carefully looking at your lost eyes, knowing that you were drowning in your own thoughts and knowing that you were replaying the prior scene over and over again. It was quite impossible for him to wonder whether your feelings towards him have changed now that you saw Aemond after a long time, his own insecurities and your reactions towards the situation made him doubt himself.
He tried not to think about it, but you were so quiet, so lost in the memories that once tormented you. Cregan tried to give you space for you to talk first and whenever you felt comfortable enough to do it, but the anxiety was eating him alive, taking the best of him. After a while, the silence was starting to bother him, it managed to feel too loud inside his head.
Once he finally decided to speak, his voice came out as dubious and insecure, a bit lower than he expected, "How are you feeling?"
His question seemed to have woken you up from the trance you were in, because your lost stare suddenly moved away from his wound to reach his eyes. You looked down at him with a small, tiny smile that flickered and trembled, showing your restlessness quite clearly.
"I should be the one asking that," you joked, trying to make you feel like yourself again, and not as a wandering body with a lost mind.
However, your words did not seem to amuse Cregan, who remained serious as he spoke again,
"I'm talking about Aemond," he added. Your hands stopped their movements and your whole body went still. The tension in your shoulders was visible to the man in front of you, who immediately noticed the nervousness in your body language. "What are you feeling about Aemond now?" He asked again.
"I'm feeling nothing, Cregan," you replied, without hesitation.
"It didn't seem like nothing a few seconds ago," he accused you, using an odd tone that you have never heard in him before, which made you feel uneasy, "were you thinking about him?"
You scoffed, "what? you're telling me you're jealous now?"
"He was staring at you the whole time!" He exclaimed, pointing it out as if it was obvious, "eating you with his eyes like a creep."
"That's nonsense," you scoffed, shaking your head.
"Nonsense?" he repeated, offended.
"Whatever happened between Aemond and me is in the past, I can assure you that," you tried to go back to what you were doing, but Cregan leaned back as a sign that the conversation was not over yet. You pressed your lips, starting to lose your patience, "he has a girlfriend, Cregan."
"Well, if he has a girlfriend I guess he was willing to cheat on her with you," he spoke mockingly, almost in a bitter tone, "he told me that with just a few minutes alone with you he will have you eating from the palm of his hand again."
The shock came over your body as you took a step back. Your eyes widened as your brows furrowed with confusion and bewilderment; you blinked a couple times, slowly shaking your head.
"What are you talking about?" you questioned incredulously.
"I told him to stop looking at you, to stop being so obsessed and creepy... and he beat me up because of it."
"We're talking about the man that a year ago made me have a mental breakdown because he did not love me back," you raised your voice, trying to convince him… and yourself, "why would he fight you over me when he was very clear when he told me he did not love me anymore?"
"He's jealous, y/n."
"It's been almost two years, Cregan," you sighed, "I'm sure Aemond has no feelings for me anymore."
"But do you have feelings for him?"
You scoffed, rolling your eyes, "now you're being stupid."
"Answer the question."
"Are you serious?" you asked surprised.
"Yes, I am serious," he stood up, and immediately you looked up at his face, "do you still have feelings for him?"
"Of course I don't!" You said loudly, as if raising your voice would make the words carve into his brain.
He took a small pause, as if he was thinking whether to say the next question or to just stay silent. The first option seemed to have won.
"Do you love me?"
His words made you tilt your head, as if he was asking something so obviously stupid that it didn't even need an answer. You saw how he regretted asking that in the same instant his words left his mouth; he blushed. You left the cotton and the pomade on the nightstand and cupped his face between your hands. You caressed his cheeks while you directly stared at his beautiful brown eyes, you stood on your tiptoes trying to reach his lips and leave a soft kiss on them. Cregan sighed, closing his eyes and burying his face on your neck.
"I love you." you whispered, stroking his hair as his arms wrapped around your waist. "Aemond is my past now, I promise you that."
"I know, I'm sorry. I was stupid," he muttered against you, holding you close, "I love you too."
You sighed, stroking his thick brown hair as he caressed your waist. You could feel the insecurity in his voice which made you feel guilty, thinking that there might have been some reaction that had given him the impression of you still having feelings for Aemond. And that wasn't the truth at all.
Right?
As you have told your boyfriend, Aemond was now long forgotten. However, it was a bit shocking for you to learn all the things that he had said to Cregan, and the reason why their fight started in the first place. You have thought everything had begun because of their past, thinking that Cregan may have said something that might upset him.
Aemond was a very patient person. He was collected and calm, always trying to avoid big problems. That's why it was a big surprise for everyone, including you, seeing him act so… feral. It was uncommon for him to react in that way. Perhaps he had troubles with his girlfriend and that caused him to be in a bad mood. Perhaps seeing Cregan after many years had affected him somehow. There must've been an explanation for his sudden and violent behavior, but him having feelings for you was not an option you would believe to be true.
Later that night, while Cregan was peacefully sleeping between your arms with his head on your chest and your hand on his hair, you started to do what you tried to avoid; you thought about Aemond. The questions and doubts in your mind resulted in a sleepless night in which you spent the darkest hours staring at the ceiling, hearing your boyfriend's calm breathing and soft snoring.
You did not understand it. When you saw him you were certain that you felt nothing for him, not even a small tinkle on your gut, but why are you still awake thinking about him now?
It was two in the morning when your phone started to vibrate. You frowned, curious to know who is calling you at this hour, and you stretched your arm to reach for it before the noise could wake up Cregan. You saw it was an unknown number, which you would usually ignore, but now you felt the need to pick up. So you did.
"Hello?" you answer in a whisper.
In the other line you could hear an uneven breathing that was a bit creepy, perhaps it was a sign that told you to hang up the phone, but you didn't. Instead, you eyed Cregan who was still soundly sleeping between your arms, you sighed.
"Hello?" you repeated, a bit louder this time.
No one answered again. You were about to hang up when you finally heard something. Although you wish you hadn't heard it at all.
"I miss you, y/n."
And then, the call ended. You froze, almost throwing your phone across the room due to the panic you felt. Your breathing became faster, and your heart was beating so fast you thought it would explode. You saw your phone, now showing a picture of you and Helaena in fourth grade as the hour showed up on the screen.
3.42 am.
You moved again, placing your phone back on the nightstand with a quick movement that managed to wake up Cregan. He blinked a couple times, yawning as he stretched his body, and looked at you with worry in his eyes.
"Are you okay, love?" his raspy voice reached your ears as a soft touch. It brought some peace to your endless turmoil.
You slightly nodded, trying to remain calm even though you were visibly shaking. Luckily for you, Cregan was too sleepy to notice it.
"Yes, I'm- I'm fine…" you whispered, "I just had a bad dream."
Gods, how you wish it was just that; a bad dream.
"Come here," he muttered, slowly shifting his position until he wrapped his arms around your frame, holding you close to his body, "I'm here, okay? Wake me up if you have another nightmare."
You rested your head on his chest, feeling his warmth surrounding your shaky body. He kissed your forehead before whispering a small 'I love yous' and falling asleep once again. It took you some time to close your eyes, still hearing that voice that you knew too well. Those four words that made you want to fade into the air.
Your body curled up against Cregan, hugging him tightly, trying to hold him close to you as if that would be enough to erase Aemond's voice from your mind; but it wasn't. The only thing on your mind were curses directed to that silver haired man that once ruined your life, and who seems eager to keep messing with you.
The next few days were a blur in your mind. Aemond once again managed to keep you away almost every night as your mind was so confused to the extent that you barely have been able to be intimate with Cregan.
Of course he would never pressure you to do anything, but you knew him, and you were able to see the disappointment whenever he would kiss your neck and you would stop him, coming up with some excuse that might not be completely convincing.
He thought you needed a break from everything, you were working too hard, and he knew this whole situation with Aemond had put you in a complicated situation that had brought a lot of stress in your life. That's why he spoke to Helaena and they both started to plan a surprise visit to the lake house of Helaena's parents over the weekend.
At first it would be only you and him, but Aegon was around when they planned this little vacation, and he insisted he wanted to go too. Cregan did not have the heart to deny him, and so he also invited Helaena. That's how a romantic escape turned into an excuse to drink.
When Cregan gave you the news you couldn't help but feel so bad; he has been trying to make you feel better while your mind was still being invaded by Aemond and that call. You accepted it without hesitation, feeling too guilty to even try and think about rejecting the idea.
Friday came and Cregan, Helaena and you were in his car, driving towards the destination. Aegon had left on Thursday night in his own car. The trip was fun enough to make you think about something else, Cregan's hand was caressing your thigh during the whole ride, squeezing it every now and then as you cheerfully spoke and laughed with Helaena. He would glance at you, glad to see you laugh and look better. Your smile gave him the sign that he was doing the right thing, that this was an excellent idea.
A few minutes later, they arrived at the Lake House. Cregan parked his car beside Aegon's and the three of you started to take your backpacks to the inside of the enormous house. Helaena called for Aegon, and you heard footsteps going down the stairs. All of you turned, expecting to see the eldest brother of Helaena, but it wasn’t him.
It was Aemond.
You and Cregan stood still in your places as the smug grin on Aemond’s face appeared, leaving a sour taste in your mouth. Your heart stopped for a second, your breathing became heavier and your mind felt dizzy and blurry. Seeing him, standing there in the middle of the stairs, in this house which once was the biggest witness of the love and desire you used to hold for each other; you felt as if you were about to faint.
Helaena immediately looked at your direction, looking paler than she usually is. Her hands covering her ears as a sign of distress, her eyes were wide and full of surprise. You felt Cregan’s hand grabbing your waist tightly, as if he was trying to keep you by his side as Aemond started to speak
"It's been a while since we haven't reunited in this house," he pointed out, "now, we bought some things to make pizza for lunch, who's hungry?"
A dead silence was present in the room. His boldness was so shamelessly showing that you could not simply believe this was actually happening. His mere presence was enough to make you feel the urge to cry, no out of sadness but out of rage. You hated him for what he was doing to you, you were raging; your face almost turning red.
The silence was interrupted when Aegon walked down the stairs wearing his swimsuit and his face white with sunscreen. He was smiling widely, happy to see you all but oblivious of the tension that was currently in the room.
"You finally are here!" he happily said up, hugging you first. Cregan barely let you go of his grip, keeping you close, "I brought Aemond too, I thought we should do this like the old times, remember?"
"Aegon…" Helaena whispered, shaking her head as a sign that told him that something was not right.
Aegon frowned, "why those serious faces? Did you two fight on the way here?" Those words seemed to have amused Aemond, who shamelessly smiled widely, "come on guys, don't be such a bummer, we need to leave our differences aside to cheer this pretty lady up!" He grabbed your hand and kissed it gently.
For the first time, Cregan acted jealous towards Aegon, pulling you closer to him in a subtle movement that only you noticed.
"Helaena, y/n, why don't you chop the vegetables while we prepare the dough for the-"
"Excuse me, I'll go to the room first," you interrupted him, walking towards the stairs and bravely walking past Aemond.
Your perfume left a trail that he breathed in, closing his eyes and enjoying your scent; so delicious, sweet, showing the innocence you once had when you first started your relationship with him. He took a deep breath and smiled slightly. Cregan soon followed you, and he purposely pushed Aemond's shoulder with his when he walked by his side.
Once you entered the room, you started to breath fast and unsteady, you tried to collect yourself before you had a panic attack that would certainly ruin everything. You were pacing back and forth around the room that was designated to you by Alicent the first time you came to the house when you were ten.
So many memories were flooding you, especially once you saw the bed, which was the same bed where Aemond took your virginity. You wanted to cry, to escape, everywhere you looked in that house was a memory of your disastrous relationship with him, you really wished to run away. Jumping out of the widow was not the best idea, and going back to the entrance either. You started crying once you felt the thick and comforting arms of your sweet boyfriend wrapping you as you looked out of the window.
He started to kiss your temple, holding you close as you silently wept.
"I'm so sorry, my love…" he whispered, "If I had known he was going to be here I wouldn't have brought you here."
You turned around, only to bury your face on his chest. He was quick to stroke your hair, swinging you softly from one side to another, soothing you and making you feel somehow safe.
"I won't let him get close to you, I swear it,” he promised you, “if I see him putting one hand in your body I'm going to break his bones." he cupped your face, wiping your tears with his thumbs as he kissed your forehead, "you're safe with me, you know that, right?"
You hiccuped, nodding.
"And you know I love you so, so much, right?" You sobbed.
Cregan smiled, his soft haze staring down at you with devotion and genuine love, "of course, my love… and I love you too."
He brushed his nose against yours, still caressing your wet cheeks when the door was open suddenly. Helaena walked in with her face filled with regret and angst. Your gaze softened and you slowly pulled away from Cregan.
"I'm so sorry, guys…" Helaena whined, "I didn't know he was coming, when I called Aegon this morning he didn't say anything, I'm truly sorry, Cregan… I'm sorry-"
"No need to apologize, Hel," he told her, "it's not your fault. It's Aegon's," he muttered, obviously pissed.
"No," you quickly said, "he doesn't know what happened between me and Aemond… no one knows, just you and Helaena."
"Well, what do we do now?" The blonde girl asked, "should we stay here?"
Cregan shrugged, "it's y/n’s decision. We can ignore him for the weekend or we can grab our stuff and just leave."
You looked at Helaena,
"What do you think?" you asked her.
"Do what you think it's best for you, no one will be mad at you for it."
Your pride took the best of you. Your logic was simple; if you leave now, it would mean that Aemond had managed to intimidate you, which was obviously his purpose. It would mean that his mission of ruining your romantic escapade with Cregan was successful.You would not give him the pleasure of it. The power of screwing and messing with you again.
Your decision was simple; you just shook your head.
“We’re staying.”
A few hours later, when you had already eaten a delicious pizza made by Aegon, you decided to go and spend some time in the pool. Aegon was sunbathing, with a bottle of beer on his hand; Helaena was sitting at the border of the pool, with her legs on the water, and Aemond was reading some book while he laid on the pool chairs.
You and Cregan came out of the house grabbing hands and laughing. Aemond rolled his eyes trying to focus on his reading, but your chuckles were too loud to ignore.
You sat on the chair that was further from Aemond, Cregan sat in front of you and his huge back was on display for you. You smiled slightly once you saw some scratches on it, and you couldn’t help but blush as you grabbed the sunscreen and started to spread a layer of it on Cregan’s back.
Aemond was looking at your direction with a bitter look that no one seemed to notice, not even you.
Your hands were rubbing on Cregan’s back so delicately that it made him hum on many occasions. You would occasionally lean forward just to leave soft kisses on his soft skin.
“The sunscreen burns,” he said between breathy chuckles.
“You have a lot of scratches on your back,” you replied, with a tone that came out as worried. You were not able to see his face, but you know there was a wide smirk on it.
He leaned back a little, enough to get closer to you, “don’t act so innocent, love, you know very well why they are there.”
Aemond was able to hear those words, and he just stood up from his chair, walking inside the house. You looked at him, following his steps until he disappeared from your sight. You rolled your eyes as you kept covering your boyfriend’s back with soft caresses and small kisses.
Aemond’s torment continued as you both kept giving each other public displays of attention. It never stopped, it seemed to him that you were doing all of this on purpose. His ego made him think that you were doing this to make him jealous.
You spent the day hanging from Cregan's arms, kissing him and hugging him at each opportunity you have. It was not something unusual between you two; Cregan knew how touch deprived you were in your past relationship, especially because Aemond never gave you any kind of affection when you were in public, just small hugs and soft pats on your back.
Cregan wanted to show you how loved you were by him, which is why he always makes sure to give you all the things that Aemond never provided you. And he wasn't going to lie; he loved how annoyed Aemond would look whenever he wraps his arms around you. Cregan knew you were his now, and he loved to show how happy you were to the man that once had made you miserable.
Now the night arrived, you were around a small bonfire in the backyard. Cregan was talking with Aegon while you were braiding Helaena's hair. Aemond was nowhere to be seen, but you preferred it that way.
In some part of the evening you walked back inside the house, towards the kitchen. You were looking for ice in the fridge when you felt a presence behind your back. At first you thought it was Cregan, but when you sensed that familiar scent, you realized it was actually Aemond.
You turned around almost instantly, and the rage you felt this morning came back to your body.
"What are you doing here?" you asked, moving away from him.
"This is my kitchen," he shrugged.
You tilted your head, "No, why are you here?"
"Aegon invited me."
"Stop this, Aemond, I'm serious," you spoke harshly.
"I don't know what you mean, love," he put extra emphasis in that last word.
It made you shrink in your own place, and a weird sensation was installed in your gut. You did not like the way he said that, you immediately knew he had double intentions, and that only made you even more scared.
Aemond used to have a lot of power over you, the idea of him regaining that power made you feel frightened.
"The call at 2 am?" You reminded him, "Your sudden appearance here? You're telling me it was all a coincidence?"
He looked down at you, smirking as he remained silent for a few seconds while he looked around the kitchen.
"Do you remember this kitchen?" He asked, completely ignoring your prior words, "Because I remember it… I remember how soft your skin felt, the way I had to kiss you because you were being so loud, remember?" With each word he stepped closer and closer to you, making you feel small, and weak. "It was right here… in this counter."
Your cheeks flushed with his words, and you forced yourself to look away.
"Whatever you're trying to do, stop it right now, Aemond."
"I made you mine in almost every room of this house," he said softly, lifting his hand to touch your cheek. You just froze and your bottom lip started to shake, "including that bed where your boyfriend will sleep so soundly tonight."
"Stop bothering me, stop bothering us, please," you weakly said, at the verge of tears.
"That call… Why did you answer it in the first place?"
"It- it was an unknown number," you replied with a shaky voice.
Aemond's smirk became wider as he heard your words, "I've known you for years, my sweet y/n… you never pick up calls from unknown numbers," he chuckled softly, his thumb caressing your quivering lip, "you knew it was me, didn't you?"
You grabbed his hand, pushing it away from you. He hummed in disappointment.
"Stop it," you begged, "you're being mean."
"Mean?"
"You told me to move on, you broke up with me, why are you doing this?" you sighed, wiping the tears that started to fall down your rosy cheeks, "do you- dou you think I'm your fucking dog? That I'm going to run to your side every time you whistle? Fuck you, Aemond," you spat.
He cupped your face, forcing you to stare at his face. A sob escaped from your lips, your heart aching and beating so fast that you thought it would explode.
"I miss you, y/n," he muttered, leaning closer to your face. His tight grip makes it impossible to escape from his touch, "I want you back- I will have you back."
You pouted as your vision became blurry with tears, you shook your head, you needed to get out of the situation, but your body wasn't able to move.
"Stop this… please," you begged.
Aemond let go of your face, and kissed your forehead. A touch that felt so cold and odd, which left you with an overwhelming and indescribable feeling in your gut.
"You look so pretty when you beg me, my love."
He left the kitchen, and then you could breathe properly once again. You leaned over the counter, taking deep breaths until you could feel your heartbeats returning to their normal speed. Your body was still shaking, but at least you finally stopped crying.
Staying here with Aemond around was a terrible idea. You regret your decision, and now you wished you could turn back time to leave this goddamn house as soon as you found out he was here too. But it was too late.
"Here you are…" you heard a soft voice. You lifted your face and Cregan's eyes softened with the sight of you, "I thought you were in the bathroom."
He walked towards you, and cupped your face with a gentle touch, so different from Aemond's. You felt relieved when he did that, feeling his comforting embrace giving the peace you were craving for.
Cregan kissed you, so softly, so delicately. His hands caressing your skin with such devotion that made you melt in his arms.
While Aemond always made a mess out of you, Cregan was the one who always brought calmness to you. You loved him so much.
"Are you okay, baby?" he asked you with that sweet tone of his that you so deeply adored.
You couldn't bring yourself to lie to him, "Not really…" you whispered, putting your hands on his chest, "can we go somewhere else? Just the two of us?"
"Of course…" he replied without hesitation, "we can go to the lake, does that sound nice?"
You nodded, "it sounds perfect."
He kissed you one last time before grabbing your hand, leading you towards the door. A part of you felt guilty because you were leaving without letting Helaena know, but she will know you're safe. She knows you're with Cregan.
He lit up the flashlight of his phone and illuminated the dark path in front of you both. You were guiding him throughout the trees and bushes, until the moonlight pointed at your final destination. The lake looked even more gorgeous at night, as the moon was reflected on the calm waters. The sound of crickets and owls was the only thing you were able to hear; it was so peaceful and quiet, you both loved it.
You felt the calmness of your surroundings, the view, the sound of the place and Cregan's presence and embrace was enough to make you relax. Your body was no longer tense, and your jaw was unclenched. You took a big, deep breath, and you smiled at your sweet and loving boyfriend.
He smiled back,
"Better?" he spoke softly.
"Way better."
He held you in his arms, resting his chin on the top of your head. You looked at the calm water and the urge to submerge your body in it was very tempting. Cregan seemed to have read your mind, for he started to get rid of his shirt, and then he unbuckled his pants.
You couldn't help but chuckle, "what are you doing?"
"Let's go for a swim… I know you want to," he said as he got rid of his jeans.
You bit your lip, "I didn't bring my swimsuit."
"You don't need one," he winked at you, before pulling down his underwear along with his pants.
"Oh, Gods…"
You felt the blush running to your cheeks as you saw him standing in front of you fully naked, you haven't been able to stop drooling over him. You covered your face for a couple minutes before looking around, just to make sure you were truly alone, and then you imitated his action.
After a few seconds, your clothes were folded in the grass right next to Cregan's, and he was holding your hand as he guided you towards the lake.
A small chuckle left your lips as you felt the cold water touching your feet. It gave you chills, the water was freezing cold, which made you shake and giggle.
When he saw you struggling, he let out a small breathy laugh. In a quick and sudden movement, he grabbed your thighs, lifting you up and forcing you to wrap your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist. You sweetly smiled at him as you pressed your chest against his and hid your face on the crook of his neck.
Your warmth being so close to him was enough to arouse him. It's been days since the last time he touched you, and he was already starting to feel the absence of your lustful touch against his body. However, he tried to brush away the desire, because he didn't want you to pressure you. He would just wait.
Once the water reached your upper body, you laughed softly. Cregan was still holding you tight, hugging your waist as he kissed your shoulder. You were trembling due to the cold water.
"It's so cold, I'm freezing," you said as you shivered, still pressing yourself into his wide chest.
"It's okay, I'll keep you warm," he murmured, stroking your lower back.
You leaned back as he wrapped his big hands around your waist, swinging your body from one side to another. Your legs were still attached to his hips as your arms spreaded in the water. Cregan's eyes were fixed on your shape; the way you looked so peaceful with your eyes closed and under the dim moonlight, the way your hair was floating making you look ethereal and surreal.
His curious eyes wandered around your body, now looking at your neck, your collarbones -which still have those little maroon marks that he left behind-, and your pebbled nipples. The low temperature was causing you shivers in your body, and the way your body reacted was a clear proof of it.
Your eyes opened once you heard a sharp breath coming from him, and you found his dark eyes staring back at you with desire. You sit back up, placing your hands on his shoulders as you teased him by brushing your nose against his. After tortuous days, you finally felt the need to have him again. To feel his touch, so delicate and careful.
After feeling Aemond's roughness, you needed Cregan's gentleness.
Next thing you knew, your lips were pressed against his kissing him slowly and softly. He did not waste the time, and soon he was kissing you back, swirling his tongue against you as he sighed. You hummed in response, cupping his face as he tightened the grip on your waist. Everything felt so calm, there were only you two, the sound of your wet and slow kiss joined the sounds of the nocturnal nature around you.
Your hips started to move against his hardening length, and his hands soon reached your rear in order to control your movements as you rubbed yourself against him, stealing a loud moan from his lips. This action only made him more desperate for you, and he deepened the kiss as a proof of his neediness for your touch. He was devouring your lips as a starved man while his groans and your moans would be silenced by each other's mouths. He couldn't get enough of your sweet taste.
His hands left your arse to reach your breasts, fondling the soft skin and nipping your pebbled nipples.
"I've missed your body so fucking much…" he confessed between the kiss, "I need you so bad."
His last words came out as a slight whine that made you hum. Your fingers soon find their way to his thick brown hair, tangling your digits between his soft locks and pulling it softly as he leaned his head back. Your lips attacked his neck with wet kisses, and his hands squeezed your breasts making you whimper.
"They won't come near," you told him, your voice already showing how much you desired him, "No one will see, no one will hear."
"Go on," he growled, searching for your lips to kiss you again, "tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you," his hands went back to your arse, pressing you against his hardened length. You moaned against his lips, "come on, baby, say it."
You quickly succumbed to his words,
"Fuck me, please…" you begged in a sigh.
That was enough for Cregan to lift your body and align himself with your tight entrance. You were both so desperate for each other that you didn't even take the time to adjust to his big size as you would usually do. Your hips started to move against his hard thrusts while the water surrounding your bodies splashed and moved.
"Oh, fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good," he groaned, feeling your tight walls squeezing him so nicely, "so good for me… that's it."
His low and deep voice praising you had you moaning loudly, forcing you to close your eyes as he filled you so well. Cregan's face was buried on your neck, as he gripped your hips controlling your movements while you rode him, going up and down on his shaft. He was so deep inside you, touching every sweet spot that would make you shake and drool. Suddenly the coldness of the water was nothing compared to the heat of your lustful bodies begging for each other.
"Mhm…" you whimpered, "it feels so good, so, so good."
Cregan sighed, hearing your whiny voice made him twitch inside of you.
"Yeah?" he said in a teasing way while a subtle side smile was decorating his beautiful face.
"Yes… so good."
He trapped your lips in an erotic wet kiss that was far from being soft now. His tongue clicked against yours while he was touching every single part of your body. You both were so lost in the pleasure, in the feeling your bodies would experience while rubbing against each other.
You both were so blinded by the lust of the moment that none of you noticed a pair of eyes watching. Eyes that were filled with wrath, jealousy and contempt.
Aemond looked away, unable to keep watching that tortuous scene. He leaned his back against a tree as he looked at the dark night sky, his stare blurred with hatred. He was hearing you, your moans, whines and dirty words were too loud for him to ignore. They made him furious, blinded with rage.
He was the one that used to provoke you to make those sweet sounds, the one that had you shaking and squirming under his harsh touch. The only one who knew your body so perfectly, and the only one who could provide you with what you need without you even asking for it.
Under his resentful eyes, Cregan was just a distraction; a plaything you use to entertain yourself in your path back to him. At the end of the day, you will always belong to him.
At that moment, Aemond decided that he had to get rid of Cregan. He could not bear the idea of another man taking what he claimed first; your body, especially when that man was Cregan fucking Stark, the one who always took everything from him. Now he added you to the list, and Aemond will not allow it.
He had to get him out of his way.
Aemond left almost immediately, not wanting to hear this profanity any longer. He walked away from the lake, clenching his fists and his jaw as his scheming started.
Meanwhile, you were just coming down from your orgasm when you heard some leaves crackling in the distance. You quickly moved your head, looking around searching for the source of the sound.
"What is it?" Cregsn asked with his raspy voice.
"I heard something," you said, looking back at his face.
"It was probably just the wind, love…" he tried to play down the situation, soothing you with his comforting voice, "would you like to go back to the house?"
You looked around one more time before turning your head back at him. You shook your head before pecking his lips.
"No, let's stay here a little longer."
Cregan kissed you again, and before you noticed, he started to move his hips again, making you moan with surprise and blurring your mind.
"Gods…" you chuckled, "you're insatiable, aren't you?"
He grunted, smirking as he pushed deeper, "You're too fucking irresistible, baby."
As he started to thrust against you, you looked around one last time, just to be sure. You tried to focus on the pleasure that your boyfriend was giving you, but you couldn't help being creeped out; you could've sworn you saw a shadow moving between the trees, but that was probably just your mind playing tricks with you…
Right?
#not the best idea#cregan stark x reader#cregan x reader#cregan stark fanfic#cregan stark#cregan x y/n#cregan stark smut#house of the dragon#hotd x reader#hotd au#hotd smut#modern!AU#aemond x you#aemond x fem!reader#aemond targaryen#aemond x y/n#aemond one eye#fanfic#house targaryen#hotd#multiple part series#aemond targaryen x y/n
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Just thinkin’ bout Fratboy!Bakusquad and MeanRoomate!Mina corrupting poor sweet preppy reader ☹️
18+MDNI| tw! dubcon, coercion, filming, college au, aged up 🧡, reader wears glasses, reader is kinda nerdy, corruption , dacraphyllia <-did I spell that right ? Lmao
When you first moved into the dorms of Yuuei you never expected to be walking into a hell house. Your roommate was so nice and polite in the beginning—a pretty upperclassman who pretended to be all sweet and interested in front of your family but as soon as they left that went all out the window. She spent the next half hour berating you—‘making fun of your “childish” little argyle sweater & plaid skirt combo and teasing you for the thick frames that sat on the bridge of your nose, claiming that you’d probably look halfway decent if you lost them. Which seem to happen a lot. You’d wander around the dark apartment at night bumping into things because you couldn’t find your glasses ! Little did you know Mina was snickering from her place on the couch watching you bend over and search for them—the outlines of your puffy pussy made visible by the low lights of the tv. She’d definitely make fun of you for the little hearts on your panties. Quickly sliding her finger under the band and snapping it against your skin just to hear you yelp and see your eyes water. She’d call you a baby and say that you shouldn’t overreact but your cheeks weren’t the only thing getting wet. It’s always so much worse when she brings her friends over. They’re big and loud and rowdy and scary ☹️. The two blondes are the loudest, they’ll call you horrible yet confusing names like “thickums”, “pretty whore” or “chunky little bimbo”. It always made you so upset and whenever you pouted they’d pull you on their lap and grind against you urging to show them your crybaby tears. The black haired one was more relaxed but he was still just as mean. He’d down right insult you and say that you weren’t even worth his time but he’d be pinching your thighs and groping your tits. You can complain all you want about it hurting and leaving bruises but that’s just going to make him go harder. The redhead pretended to be all nice and sweet but he was by far the worst of all! He’d corner you in the kitchen whenever you were preparing snacks and press his hard body behind you, resting his head on top of yours as he watched you slice the tomatoes for the sandwiches. Your hands would be so shaky because you could feel his dick grinding against your ass, and when you finally nicked yourself he’d call you “dumb girl” and suck the blood from your finger. The only time any of them had anything nice to say to you was when Mina had you bent over on the living room floor with her fingers pressing against your sticky clit and her tongue in your ass. The boys would shower you in praises saying that you look so beautiful like this and that you were made to be their little cumdump. They’d definitely take turns ruining your sweet little cunny. A fat dick in each of your holes thrusting simultaneously while the fourth boy fucks Mina. Don’t worry they take such good care of you afterwards so you almost don’t mind it when they start teasing you again.
#poly bakusquad#yandere bakusquad#Fratboy!bakusquad#bakusquad smut#bakusquad x reader#bakusquad x blackreader#bakugo x black reader#katsuki bakugo smut#eijiro x reader#kirishima smut#kirishima x black reader#mina x reader#mina x bakugo#minasero#mina bnha#Mina x blackreader#kaminari x blackreader#sero x black!reader
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