#truly no more strings on that bad boy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

claymoresword · 4 months

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Where's My Love

Cersei Lannister x Stark Fem!Reader 🐺

Prompt: I was wondering if you could write a Cersei x Stark!fem!reader where she's Ned's youngest sister and Cersei's ex-secret lover. Reader is a rebel like Arya and never married but she's very protective of her nieces/nephews. She and Cersei had a bad breakup and are finally reuniting during the events of the first GOT episode when the king's court goes to Winterfell. You could write reader backing up Arya again Joffrey and Cersei seething 😂😂😂 you can include g!p and smut if you want.

Wordcount: 5.8k

Pairing: Cersei x Stark Reader

Warnings: g!p reader, smut, power play, depictions of physical abuse, cheating , very toxic , references to alcoholism, breeding kink if you squint, emotional manipulation, did i already say this was toxic ?

Note: thank you so much 🐑 for the prompt! i actually had a lot of fun writing this one. also important to note this is my first time actually publishing something y'all have requested me to write so hopefully i got this right.. i know i tweaked and added a couple things but i hope you don't mind! and if you hate this i'm sorry lmao i tried <33

(smut after asterisks)

Bouts of laughter erupt from your nephews as Bran once again misses his mark, the arrow flies way over the target.

You glare at the older boys, in response Robb places a hand over his mouth, Jon instead chooses to avoid your gaze entirely focusing his stare at the ground beneath.

All dirt and sleet on the base of your boot, the ground squelched with every step you took.

“Try again, Bran. Take a deep breath, aim properly.” You order placing a lingering hand on his shoulder.

The young boy nods obediently as you step back once more, he raises his bow arm.

He aims, soon releasing the string, and once again, he misses. The arrow pierces the edge of a barrel on the far left, leagues away from his actual target.

Once again the boys burst into fits of laughter, this time is it not you who reprimands them.

“And which one of you was a marksman at ten?” You follow the sound of your brother's voice, he is standing on the balcony above, Catelyn by his side.

“Keep trying, Bran.” Jon decides to cease his teasing, he encourages his half-brother.

A sudden gust of wind tickles your face, the cold breeze permeates the air, bleeding through the thin fabric of your doublet. You immediately regret not putting on more layers this morning. You have lost track of the days, but there is no doubt that winter is coming.

“Robb, make certain your brother continues practicing. I am going back inside, but remember– your father is watching.” You warn your eldest nephew, as stern as you can manage.

Shaggy streaks of red hair fall over his eyes as he nods.

You wrap your arms around yourself as you start up the stairs, but your plan to slip back into your chambers unnoticed fails.

“Y/n.” Cat appears next to you.

“Are you alright?” The Lady of Winterfell asks, and you force a sweet smile, one to disarm and hopefully quell her worries.

Catelyn didn't exactly warm to you at first, and neither did you with her, but over time you both grew to truly care for one another. She was like an older sister to you, the void left by your late sister Lyanna did not seem so large with her around.

“I'm fine, I just needed to fetch something from my bedchambers, that's all.” You lie. However, the older woman somehow always manages to see right through you.

She gazes upon you skeptically only to eventually release your arm. She takes a step back, allowing you to take your leave without further interrogation.

In truth, you were far from alright.

Despite yourself, you have been on edge since finding out that the King is on his way to Winterfell with his Lady wife and all of their children.

This visit is a sudden one. Upon the death of Jon Arryn you had expected things to be different, knowing how much the former Hand meant to your brother– but you never anticipated a visit from the King himself.

You hadn't seen Robert in nine years, and his wife for longer than that.

It is not by accident.

If it was up to you, things would be different. You would still be in King's Landing today, perhaps serving as Knight– or as Cersei had once intended, a personal guard for the Queen.

You were once certain that you would spend the rest of your days by Cersei's side, no matter the circumstances, but you merely held the high hopefulness of a young girl.

Since then have been forced to accept that life is nothing like the tales and songs you were fed as a child. The Gods are not always merciful, things rarely ever go to plan and love most certainly does not conquer all.

Life got in the way of your love, and pride did the rest.

You have not spoken to Cersei Lannister in a decade, yet your entire being continued to ache with every day that you have spent apart. Time does not heal the type of hurt that only yields to resentment.

When the King and Queen arrive for their visit on the morrow, you intend to avoid her Grace at all costs, for her sake and your own. Above all, you will have no choice but to grit your teeth and endure what you must.

You haven't seen Cersei in years, but you were bound to slaughter each other given the chance.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

“Come in!” You beckon whoever was on the other side of the door as you fastened the clasps on your doublet.

Ned ceases his knocking, pushing the door open, he looks upon you in a way he knew you hated, but your brother can hardly help it.

He worries about you. When you returned home all those years ago, you were inconsolable.

You are a Stark, not made for the South. Your brother tried in jest, but he knew it wasn't the weather, or even court politics that despaired you.

It was Cersei, it had always been Cersei.

"The King was seen riding up; he should be arriving any moment.” Ned states.

“Right, I'm almost done here.” You quip, but the man takes it upon himself to assist you with your sheepskin cloak, draping it over your shoulders.

He keeps his hands on you, his brows furrowed with evident worry, and for some reason you can't help but find it all a bit silly, you chuckle lightly. “I will be fine, Ned.”

Your brother appears less than convinced, you shove him playfully. “You worry about me too much, brother, it’s beginning to age you.”

Ned scoffs. “Aye, try being in my position for a day and you'll understand why I worry so much… but it is time that's aging me, little sister.” Ned quips in response and this makes you pause.

You notice the streaks of white, scattered across his dark locks. As the morning sun peeks through the window, catching his face, you observe more of those streaks in his beard.

Where has time gone?

Ned steps closer, it seems that he has mistaken your silence for something else. Your brother plants a quick kiss on the crown of your head as a result.

In times like this you can't help but feel like a girl of thirteen again, looking to her older brother for protection.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

You watched as the Kingsguard rode through the walls of Winterfell, Lannister banners in hand. It unsettles you more than you thought it would. You gnaw at the inside of your cheek, turning to Sansa, her younger sister still nowhere in sight.

“Sansa, where is your sister?” You question and the girl only shrugs dismissively, but you aren't left wondering for long as Arya can be seen pushing through the crowd, quickly settling next to you.

The young girl was wearing an iron helm you had never seen before, her once pristine dress now ornamented with specks of dirt and grime. You shake your head disapprovingly, an effort to suppress your amusement.

Sansa scoffs at the sight of her younger sister, while you snatch the helm off Arya's head, she looks up at you with a scowl.

“Where did you even get this?” You ask, your tone manages to match the look on her face.

Arya gives you no response, and you aren't allowed the opportunity to press her further as you feel a nudge against your arm. Ned forces you to look ahead as the King can be seen dismounting his horse.

Ned kneels, and you and everyone else follows suit.

After a beat, the King's command all of you to rise, and soon you spot the carriage halting a few feet behind him.

You involuntarily held your breath as the door opens. The Queen emerges, she keeps her gaze ahead as she climbs down the steps.

Cersei looks the picture of poise and grace. She seems older, and somehow even more beautiful than you remembered. It knocked the wind right out of you, you had to look away.

Your eyes are no longer on the Queen, but your chest aches all the same.

“Cat!” Your attention is pulled to the display before you as the King addresses your sister in law, pulling her in for an embrace that she doesn't appear to be prepared for.

“Nine years. why haven't I seen you, where the hell have you been?” Robert addresses your brother once more.

“Guarding the North, Your Grace. Winterfell is yours.” Ned replies, practiced and noble as he always was.

Robert then turns to you, a scowl upon his face, one that stuns you slightly. Your mind turns to Cersei, you consider what she might have shared with her Lord husband in your absence.

She must have told him the real reason you left King's Landing, no doubt the King will want you punished for repeatedly bedding his wife all those years ago. but then the King's frown turns, and your mind ceases its torment.

Robert lunges only to pull you in for an embrace, a gesture that startles you, your body remains tense until he releases you from his hold.

“I expected better from you, Y/n.” The King narrows his gaze in a puckish manner.

“Unlike your damned brother here I thought you enjoyed the Keep. I was sure you wanted to serve in my Kingsguard.” He adds, and you force a grin, gallant yet strained.

“I admit that was a different time, Your Grace. These days, my passions lie elsewhere.” You reply, and you can hardly prevent the way your gaze flits towards the Queen for a moment.

Cersei has been stood beside her husband, staring at you relentlessly for the entire duration of this interaction. If the Queen has remained the same person she was all those years ago, then you know for certain this was her attempt to intimidate– but you were not so keen on letting her have the upper hand.

You drill your expression, unfazed.

The King snorts derisively at your answer, but says nothing more.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

You had spent most of the afternoon, drowning in your cups. The knowledge that Cersei was only a few doors away was aggravating, everything you thought to have successfully repressed has now resurfaced.

Every inch of you calls out to Cersei, your very soul yearns for her. You craved the unbearable pain, and blinding pleasure that came with being around her.

You have laid awake many nights picturing the ways you would confront her. The things you would say to her.

You fantasized about the possibility of finally being rid of all of your pain. To hurt her the same way she hurt you. Your heart, dense and cold, obstructed by all things Cersei. Within you, you carried everything you despised about the other woman– and all the things you adored.

The Queen was a mistake you couldn't erase, and simultaneously the best thing that has ever happened to you. You hate her, but you cannot stand to be apart from her.

The sound of commotion snatches you out of your thoughts. The voices that permeate sound vaguely familiar to you, but you are only able to place them once you take a glance out your window.

You spot Arya and Bran in the courtyard. Prince Joffrey standing over them, your face falls as you spot his steel unsheathed from his scabbard and in his hand.

Without another moment's thought you rushed downstairs towards the training yard, prepared to pacify the affair, however dire it may be, but it seems Arya has taken the situation into her own hands.

Bran is gone, but the Prince is now on the ground. It seems that Arya has managed to disarm the older boy, his steel thrown to the side in the dirt.

Now she is threatening Joffrey with a wooden practice sword, her direwolf beside her, growling with intent at the Prince.

“Arya enough!” You intercept the blow, forcefully dragging your niece away from the boy.

“What the seven hells do you think you're doing?” You bark, and Arya drops the sword, her chest still heaving.

A young girl seething with unbridled fury was such an uncommon sight that it makes you grimace.

“He was trying to hurt Bran! I had to protect him.” Arya gestures to the Prince, the boy still whimpering in pain.

“Damn you and that stupid dog! I am telling my mother! I will report you to the king!” Joffrey hurls his threats, and Arya makes the juvenile decision to respond.

“Nymeria's a direwolf, not a dog!” She shouts and you sigh, placing a hand over your niece's mouth to silence her, an action Arya fights but your grip on her doesn't relent.

“My Prince, I am sure my niece meant no harm–” You try but the boy interjects.

“No harm?” The Prince hisses. “She nearly sliced my arm off!” Once again he whimpers like a pup that had just been trampled.

You take a step forward to examine the cut on Joffrey's arm, and it was only that– a minor cut, one that will heal without leaving as much as a scar.

Large footsteps approach, the Prince's sworn guard comes rushing to the scene, Sandor Clegane scowls at you before assisting the boy to his feet effortlessly with one hand.

“Some protector you are, dog. I almost died!” Joffrey then redirects his frustrations towards his guard.

He continues muttering insults as he retrieves his sword from the dirt, strutting out of the training yard.

Nymeria doesn't cease her growling until the boy was entirely out of sight, it was also only then you remove your hand from Arya's mouth.

“Have you completely lost your wits?” You gape, looking down at your niece disapprovingly, before kneeling to be at eye level with her.

“He was–” Arya starts, but you interrupt.“–I don't care what he did, Arya. You never attack a Prince.” You state firmly.

“You do something like this again and I will make sure you never get the chance to wield a weapon again, do you understand?” You assert, and your tone is harsh enough to make Arya wince.

She doesn't reply with words, she continues looking down at her feet as she nods.

“Let's go and get you cleaned up.” You state, you try to pull her by the arm but Arya doesn't budge.

“I was trying to be brave, like you.” She mutters under her breath, and you turn to look at the young girl once more.

“What?” You ask.

“Don't be upset with me, please, please. I'm sorry.” Then Arya states frantically, her voice small and frail– it shatters you.

“Oh, Arya– my sweet girl.” You say, kneeling once again. “I'm not upset, I was worried.” You pull her in for an embrace, your niece clutches you tightly in return.

After a prolonged moment, you cease the hug, wiping away some of the dirt from her face with the pads of your thumbs.

Then you took a quick scan of your surroundings, to ensure that you were alone before speaking again.

“Our Prince is a bit of a cunt.” You finally quip, earning a chuckle from Arya.

“He is.” Your niece beams at you, in turn this makes you fill with relief.

“I am proud of you for disarming him. but next time, leave it at that. Do you understand the consequences that come with attacking a King's heir?” You ask, and you watch as a realization graces the young girl, she averts her gaze, this time with guilt.

“Never again, do you hear me?”

═══════════════════════════════════════════

You were exhausted from the events of the day, and yet it was not close to over.

You decide to retire to your chambers, aiming for at least a few hours rest before the King's welcome feast later this evening.

Resting your hand on the pommel of your sword, you take large steps through the gallery. You crave the horn of ale waiting for you on your nightstand, the comfort of your warm bed.

You turn the corner, a figure appears before you and you swerve out of the way quickly enough to avoid whoever it was that decided to walk toward you in this exact moment from the opposite direction.

As you gather yourself to take a proper look at the woman who you nearly bumped into, your blood runs cold.

“Your Grace, forgive me.” You state curtly, inclining your head at Cersei.

Your hand remains resting on the hilt of your sword as you attempt to slip past her, but before you can successfully walk away, she has a hold of your arm, dragging you backwards to where you stood.

You yank your arm out of her hold, a scowl covers your features, but Cersei ignores your visible discontent as she speaks.

“That niece of yours tried to murder my son.” The Queen accuses.

“What?” You can't help the half-laugh that slips out of you. Cersei takes offense to this, her expression hardens.

“Joff will bear those scars for the rest of his life.” She is not backing down, and you can't pretend that you possessed the will to deal with her theatrics.

You only roll your eyes, finally slipping past her and into your chambers.

You step inside your room, but before you can close the door Cersei intercepts, forcefully pushing it open to let herself in.

She slams it closed behind herself.

“You dare walk away from your Queen?” She bellows.

This time you groan, collapsing onto your bed.

You ignore her statement, rubbing your hands over your face in frustration. “Oh, Cersei, it is a cut, it'll heal!”

A prolonged silence from the Queen, she only speaks again once you sit up in your bed.

“You've not changed a bit.” She remarks, treacherous emerald gaze meeting your pale greys.

“Neither have you.” You retaliate boldly.

More silence until Cersei is first to look away, clasping her hands infront of herself she assumes an impassive stance.

“I will have that girl punished.” The Queen threatens, her tone sounds spiteful. but you don't hide your incredulity.

“For what?” You ask, and Cersei's jaw clenches even tighter, you wonder if she might lunge at you.

“She attacked my son. the King's heir.” Cersei retorts, and you scoff.

“Is that what Robert’s teaching his sons? How to lose to a little girl?” You taunt, not backing down.

You knew Arya should receive consequences for her actions by right, but giving Cersei that satisfaction is the absolute last thing you plan to do.

“Or is it not the King's doing at all?” You ask again as Cersei fails to respond. You rise from the bed, stepping closer to the Queen.

“Is it Jaime's fault?” You tilt your head inquisitively, mockingly.

You are close enough to smell the lavender oil on Cersei's skin. Her eyes flit to your lips for a fleeting moment, and yours do the same to hers.

Then a madness overcomes you, prompting your next choice of words.

“I expect it is him you've been opening your legs for these days–” You utter, but you are swiftly silenced when Cersei's palm makes contact with your cheek.

She slaps you across the face, your head turns slightly from the force of it. Your face is now throbbing, raw and red with traces of Cersei's wrath.

She goes to strike you again, and this time it is intercepted by your firm grip on her wrist.

A fury reignites within you as Cersei tries to fight out of your hold, entirely allowing your emotions to guide your actions, your hand finds her throat. Before your rational mind can mitigate it, you have your fingers firmly wrapped around her neck. The back of her head slams against the wooden door as you forcibly pinned her upon it.

The Queen is clawing at your hand, struggling to take a breath as you restricted her airway. A real fear flashes across Cersei's face, and a part of you wants to watch her fall limp within your grasp, to quiet her once and for all, to destroy the cause of your agony. but you don't– instead you take a step back, releasing her.

Cersei gasps as air sharply re enters her lungs, roughly wiping away the tears that have made it down her cheeks.

The Queen attempts to regain her resolve the best she can, and the look she gives you is not one of shock, instead it is pure disdain, and you look at her the same. Cersei doesn't speak, she merely shoves you harshly with both hands against your chest, as you stumbled back, she turns to open the door.

You collapse on your bed once more as Cersei dissapears into the hallway, the door shutting behind her.

“Fuck.” You cursed under your breath. It seemed the Queen will never fail to elicit the worst from you– to make you act like an utter lunatic.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

The welcome feast has been dragging on now for what felt like an eternity.

The King was no longer seated as his high table, instead he was in the center of the hall, shamelessly flirting with some of the servants.

You roll your eyes, reaching for the flagon of ale infront of you, as you attempted to lift it, it doesn't budge. You fleetingly wonder if the liquor had caused you to lose all strength in your arm, only to realize your brother was holding the jug firmly on the table so it wouldn't move.

You squint at Ned, and he glares at you in return.

“Enough. You'll drink yourself into an early grave if you keep this up.” Your brother warns and it makes you snigger.

“That is the plan, brother.” You slur slightly, but Ned makes the deliberate effort to ignore you.

You slump backwards in your chair, when you've realized you lost this argument, as you often did when it came to the lord of Winterfell.

You eyes fall upon King Robert once more, he is still in the middle of the room, surrounded by maidens and even more whores.

This time he is no longer flirting with them, he is in a full lip lock with one of the women. He does this in the presence of the Queen, dishonouring her for all to see.

You grimace at the sight, an unwanted rage overcomes you. You can hardly believe this lecherous drunk was King of the Seven Kingdoms. Married to the most beautiful woman in all of the seven kingdoms, the only woman you have ever wanted.

You can't bear to look at Cersei's reaction to this, in fact you can hardly remain at this feast for a moment longer. You abruptly rise from your seat, Ned looks up at you, puzzled.

“May I please be excused?” You asked formally for the rest of the table to hear and your brother hesitates before nodding curtly in response.

As you walked back to your chambers you can't help but invision what your life would have been like if your brother had taken the Iron throne instead of Robert Baratheon. If you had remained in King's Landing– if you had wedded Cersei instead.

Perhaps in a different life.

You and Cersei would be married, and you'd rule together. In another reality Cersei would be your Queen and not Robert's. She would bear your children, your heirs. You would grow old together and live out your days by each other's side. In a different life, you would have remained faithful to Cersei, you would have given her everything she desired and in return, Cersei would offer you her heart.

You would have been happy.

In another life.

By the time you reached your room, the tears had stopped flowing, but the collar of your shirt remained drenched.

As you shut your door, you unclapsed your doublet, lifting it above your head, tossing it aimlessly across the room.

Now only in your tunic and breeches, you feel the urge to weep some more, but you refuse to allow your tears to fall this time.

You take a seat on the settee, head in your hands. The effects of the ale already wearing off, a headache rapidly setting in, you realized that you needed another drink.

You get up to fetch the flagon from the small table but as your door flings wide open, nearly hitting you in the process, you freeze where you stand.

A familiar golden haired beauty emerges through the doorway, and you allow yourself a deep breath. Clutching your chest slightly to calm yourself.

“Your Grace, the hour is late.” You state dismissively, starting across the room to fetch your goblet.

“If you have come to order my execution for my behaviour this afternoon, best get it over with.” You quip, the liquor in your system doing all of the talking for you.

You hear the door shut, without looking back you assume Cersei had taken her leave but you are perplexed when you turn to see her still standing by the door, watching you set down your goblet.

You walk across the room once more to take a seat on the settee, you remove your boots, setting them aside.

Cersei has remained silent for long enough that you nearly forgotten her presence entirely. Her next ask startles you.

“Look at me.” Her commanding tone leaves no room to argue, you glance at her.

Her eyes were swollen, her cheeks flushed. It is clear to you that she has been crying as well.

You rise from your seat abruptly, approaching her. “Are you alright?” You ask, and again the Queen says nothing.

She merely stares at you, hopefulness at your concern and despair at the fact that you needed to ask.

She lunges forward, before you can fully comprehend it, her lips crash against your own, she kisses you deeply, pure anguish and want. It snatches the air right out of your lungs, but you have no desire to pull away.

Your tongue makes contact with her own and Cersei moans, pulling you impossibly closer by the nape of your neck.

Your body pressed up against hers as she leans against the wall. You were now both panting into the kiss, all aggression and desire.

You had not been with Cersei like this in a decade, and yet there was a complete lack of uncertainty. It felt right, you were certain that you are meant to be with her like this, until the end of your days.

However, there still exists voice deep within you, whether it is pride or reason, you cannot say for certain. but it urges you to pull away, so you do.

The Queen chases your lips eagerly, but you pull back even further. “Cersei, stop. What is this, what are you doing?” You ask, every moment you spent without your lips on hers felt like pure agony.

“I just need you– please–” Cersei replies with a desperation you have never heard before, and this was enough to break you.

Any semblance of dignity vanishes into the very depths of yourself, all that's left is your deep and tortuous want for Cersei.

You kiss her again, rough and urgent, you are panting and groaning into each other's mouths. Cersei's hands immediately move to the hem of your breeches, she unlaces them in record time, slipping her hand inside.

You nearly lose it all when she wraps her fingers around the base of your cock, stroking it with such dexterity you fear your knees may give out.

“Gods–” You grunt, bucking your hips embarrassingly into her touch.

You find the strength to remove her hand from your breeches. Soon enough you slip them off, your slacks pooling around your ankles before you kicked them to the side.

You swiftly remove your own tunic as Cersei's trembling hands struggle to undo the laces of her dress.

Your patience wearing thin, you flip her around, indecently ripping the fabric open with one swift tug.

“Y/n–” Cersei scolds in response to your eagerness, glancing back at you with dissaproval, but her dress easily slips off her shoulders after that, her smallclothes follow suit.

The Queen is still facing away from you as you part her hair away from her neck, trailing open mouthed kisses against her hot flesh, as you reached a certain familiar spot, your teeth grazed the skin, before biting down on it briefly.

This earns a louder noise from Cersei, she is still trembling as she turns back around to face you, grabbing you firmly to pull you in for another sloppy kiss.

Lips still interlocked, the Queen walks you backwards onto the bed, Cersei doesn't waste another moment, straddling you as soon as you settled your rear on the edge of the bedding.

Your cock now stiff as a rod, poking at Cersei's entrance. The other woman begins moving her hips as you kissed, rubbing her cunt on the length of your shaft, coating it with her slick.

Your breath quickens, the sensation was maddening, you needed to be inside her now.

“Gods, I missed you.” You let it slip as your lips parted for a moment, but Cersei doesn't respond.

The Queen's grip on the nape of your neck moves to your hair as she grasps a handful of it, tugging your head back slightly. Her other hand travels south, she grips the base of your cock once more, this time lining it up to her entrance.

She begins lowering herself onto your length, Cersei moves quickly, with every inch that enters her, she lets out a gasp at the sensation. Soon you are sheathed inside of her to the hilt, and Cersei throws her head back, she releases an unrestrained moan, her hands now firmly on your shoulders.

She attemps to push you back against the bed, but you refuse to budge. Cersei relents, kissing you again as she moves her hips up and down the length of your cock. With every moan from Cersei you retaliate with a groan.

The feeling of her walls fluttering against your girth made you dizzy. The Queen felt so unbelievably good wrapped around your cock, you had forgotten just how intoxicating it was.

Now that you were experiencing it again, you never wanted it to end.

Vulgar noises of your coupling filled the room as Cersei moved herself desperately against your lap, your cock hitting just the right spots within her.

The Queen can feel her release already approaching, entirely overwhelmed by this she falls limp against you, but you manage to support her weight with minimal effort. Her hips still moving at a steady pace until it finally hits her, her orgasm washes over her like a wave.

Cersei cries out in pleasure, partially muffled against your neck, she holds onto you for dear life as her peak overcomes all her other senses, relentless and unforgiving. You feel her cunt clenching painfully around your cock, her short shallow breaths against your neck, she is trembling helplessly, and you never want to let her go.

“Seven hells.” The Queen breathes out, finally lifting her head to look at you.

Cersei's eyes were nearly glazed over, her chest heaving violently, but you were far from done with her.

You capture her lips with your own again, earning a content moan. You remained sheathed inside of her as you flipped your positions, now Cersei laid on the bed, with you on top of her. The other woman's gasp in surprise is muffled by your own mouth against hers.

Once again she moans into your mouth as you began your thrusts, deep and slow, you aim to feel every inch of her. Cersei wraps her legs around your waist, pulling you in even deeper.

The Queen gasps as your mouth found the swell of her breasts, your tongue leaving a trail of saliva as you expertly moved from one nipple to the other.

Your thrusts grow harsh and inconsistent as you felt your own climax building. Cersei's back arches, a deafening moan rips out of her.

You roughly placed your hand against her stomach, pinning her down against the bed as you continued to rut into her. Cersei was mewling and panting like a whore now as you used her for your own pleasure, heightening her own in the process.

The Queen finds just enough strength to pull you closer, her lips now against your ear.

“Tell me you love me.” Cersei pleads, and this takes you entirely by surprise, you slow your movements but you don't stop.

“What?” You ask, shaky, breathless.

“Just say it.” The Queen repeats amidst another moan, she clenches around your cock and the sound that emits from you then is guttural, primal.

You oblige without asking further questions.

“I love you, Cersei” You speak, from the heart, damning the consequences.

With that, Cersei reaches her peak again, her nails digging into the flesh of your back as she comes. The feeling of her perfect cunt milking your cock, accompanied by her writhing body underneath you was enough to push you over the edge.

As you attempt to pull out, Cersei kept her legs firmly wrapped around your waist, holding you in place. You are not given the opportunity to question it as it was already too late, you moaned as you released your load deep inside her, painting her womb with your seed.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

Nearly a candlemark has passed since your coupling and neither you or Cersei have said more than a few words.

Simply embracing each other under the sheets, she rests her head against your shoulder, tracing circles absentmindedly with her finger against your abdomen.

This position was achingly familiar, almost as if no time had passed.

Cersei soon moves her hand further up, she traces her fingers across your bottom lip before running her thumb down the bridge of your nose. The sensation earns a chuckle out of you, you finally had to reach up to remove her hand, guiding it away from your face.

Cersei's stare betrays an intensity that makes your heart constrict painfully in your chest.

Still unspeaking, it was your turn to explore her body, but you don't get very far, your fingertips trace the faint bruising on her neck, the marks left by your own cruelty.

The Queen then shuts her eyes, she doesn't allow herself to look upon your guilt any longer. Wrapping her arm across your torso, nuzzling her face against your shoulder.

“I'm not letting you go– never again.” Cersei mutters, and the smile that tugs on your lips is one of relief and acceptance.

You don't supress the urge to plant a lingering kiss on her temple, one the Queen allows herself to melt into.

#cersei lannister smut #cersei x reader #g!p reader #cersei lannister #ned stark #stark reader #fem stark reader #ned stark x reader #catelyn stark #g!p

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thefabulous-mostgroovy · 28 days

Text

Beautiful Boy

"You're sure you want to do this?" he asks, softening his voice. Jon nods.

"I... I think it'll be good for me."

That's all Martin needs to hear.

(art included!)

Jon/Martin, 1.7k words, rated Gen, read on AO3. this is for day 3 of @jonmartinweek for the prompt Hair Care!!

Martin truly thinks he's an absolute genius for using one of Jon's hair clips to keep the towel in place. Jon snickers a little at his chuffed face in the mirror, holding the other end of the towel up with his hands in front of him.

"Don't laugh," Martin tuts. "Or I'll give you a bad haircut.

"I don't know if a buzz cut is possible to mess up," Jon says. Even joking, he sounds a little nervous. His eyes dart from his own reflection to the scissors in Martin's hands, and back again. Martin plants a kiss in his hair.

"You're sure you want to do this?" he asks, softening his voice. Jon nods.

"I... I think it'll be good for me."

That's all Martin needs to hear.

They've gone over his decision a few times. First of all, the long hair has gotten a bit annoying. It blows in his face, especially in the Highland winds. It's a pain to maintain. But, mostly, it has too many negative memories attached. The only reason it's as long as it is, is he's been too tired and stressed and scared to go outside to get a proper haircut. He didn't grow it out, it got out of control. Just another thing he couldn't fix, couldn't get a handle on. Not to mention the fairly recent fear of strangers welding blade near his throat. Chopping it all off is about as good of a fresh start as Jon is going to get right now.

He remembers Jon's hair when they first met. It had been a bit long, even for how short he used to keep it. He kept it loosely pushed out of his face, but it fell in loose waves over his face whenever he was concentrating on anything else. Martin was never able to pay attention to the day's to-do's because he was always too busy watching Jon's hands run through his own hair, flipping it out of his face, the grey strands at his temples revealing themselves when he combed it back.

Despite his scruffy, ill-fitting suit jackets and trousers, his hair always fell perfectly with seemingly very little effort. Martin has curly hair himself, and he's never been one to get jealous over someone else's hair, but he really thought that's what he felt about Jon in the early days.

(It was not jealousy. He was just completely arse over kettle for his boss. But, can you blame him? Jon might be the prettiest man Martin has ever met.)

After Prentiss, Jon let his hair grow out a bit more. Well, let is a strong word. More like, he neglected in getting a haircut as his paranoia grew and grew. It reached his shoulders in just a few months, and Jon had taken up keeping it tied back in these large clips that's currently holding up the towel that will catch all that hair when Martin shears it off.

Martin remembers being quite surprised at how long his hair had gotten when he returned from his brief stint of running from the police. It was hanging in loose strings over his shoulders, like it hadn't been very well taken care of. Part of him had wanted to sit Jon down and detangle the nest residing on his head. Maybe give it a good wash.

The next time he saw Jon, it was with his hair in a braid. Or, an attempt at a braid. It was a bit more like a series of knots, a bit lopsided and kind of falling out. In his week-long shock at the fact that his boss was not, in fact, just a creepy middle aged man who was way too into administrative work, but an evil eldritch monster who is still way too into administrative work, he told Jon this. While he waited for Jon's tea to steep, he turned around and told him, 'Hey, your braid's a mess. Want me to fix it?'

To his everlasting surprise, Jon said yes.

With shaking hands and a beet red face, Martin had sat behind Jon on the couch, and carefully brushed Jon's hair through with his fingers. His hair looked healthy, like it had been recently washed, and smelled of coconut and bergamot. There was a lot more grey in it than when he first met Jon (but not as much as there is now).

Jon had sighed and closed his eyes, tilting his head back as Martin had brushed his hair back. He had wanted so badly to run his nails over his scalp, and he just barely restrained himself from doing so. His hair was soft under his hands, and it bounced back into shape when his fingers ran through the ends.

Actually putting the plait in was easy. Martin fell victim to being a girl's Gay Best Friend while he was still in high school, which is never all that great, but he did actually enjoy styling her hair. It came to him as muscle memory, twisting the three sections around each other, careful not to pull or tug by accident. He kept it fairly loose to not give Jon a tension headache, and the shape of his curls were still visible as they flowed into the braid.

After tying it off, Jon had gotten a bit stuttery and smiley, tucking the shorter strands that fell over his face behind his ears, and Martin had practically short circuited and fled the room.

Jon never got around to properly cutting his hair, even as it reached further and further down his back. After Daisy, he could never let anyone near him with a blade without falling into panic. So, he simply put up with the choppy cuts from cutting the dead ends off with a pair of kitchen scissors. It was good enough for him, apparently. And he never had to let any strangers near his neck.

Martin can't help but feel a little pride at the fact that Jon is allowing him to do this. Sure, he's screwing his eyes shut and bordering on holding his breath, but Jon is letting him do this in the first place.

"I'm gonna start now," Martin warns him. Jon hums and nods minutely, and Martin gathers some hair in his hands. He gives him another moment to change his mind, then makes the first cut.

He starts near his nape, moving along in as straight a line as he can manage. He cringes a little at the slope he creates—he somehow manages to cut a bar graph into Jon's ends—but it doesn't matter. He drops the cut strands into the bin below him, not bothering with the bits that stick to the towel. His hair goes from ending at his mid-back, to... whatever Martin has managed to make. It sits in an odd, blunt bob, just above his shoulders. When Martin sets the scissors down for a moment, stretching his hands, Jon's shoulder slump and relax, and reveals that Martin has actually cut much further than he thought.

"You look like Lord Farquaad," Martin snickers as Jon opens his eyes. They glow green for just a second, and Jon gasps in offence, then laughs.

"So mean to me," he bemoans. "Why must I face such treatment? Go to jail."

"If I go to jail, I can't do the rest of your hair, m'Lord." Martin picks the scissors back up, ready to cut more off before going with the razor. Jon closes his eyes again.

"I'll just visit you in jail," Jon says, seeming much more relaxed now that the first shock is over. "Give you a spoon to dig your way out."

"I'll Shawshank Redemption my way out of there," Martin promises as he cuts shorter and shorter. "Come back with scissors and a vengeance."

Jon laughs quietly. After another few minutes, Martin has gotten his hair into a rather shaggy short cut. It looks awful.

"Okay, I'm gonna plug in the razor, don't look at your hair."

"Why not?" Jon immediately opens his eyes and starts to laugh at the sight.

"Don't look!" Martin splutters, scandalised.

"I look like I got attacked by Edward Scissorhands!" Jon cackles, running a hand through the choppy sections.

"I'll fix it, just hold bloody still," Martin grumbles, face red. Even through the buzzing of the razor, he can hear and see Jon humming with giggles. He never could have guessed that Jon's favourite hobby, should they ever have actually started dating, would be winding Martin up at every opportunity.

He starts, again, at the neck and works his way up. His grey hair sits in patches through the black, buzzed hair. Martin wouldn't tell him, but it makes him look like a spotted cat. The hair falls into the towel above Jon's lap, onto the floor. Once Martin is done, and it looks a relatively even length, he turns the clippers off, and kisses the top of Jon's head.

"All finished," he says softly.

Jon opens his eyes and stares at the mirror. He runs a hand over his head, tilting it to the side a little. Martin, to busy his nervous hands, removes the hair clip from the towels and gathers it up with the pile of hair in it.

"Do..." Martin tries to act and sound casual. He does not. "Do you like it?"

"Yeah," Jon says, and finally smiles. There are pinprick tears in his eyes. "I do. I really do."

Martin kisses the top of his head again, running his hand over his hair. The short strands are still soft, but sliding his hand up the opposite direction leaves his palm a little scratchy. Jon doesn't stand, but he reaches up and pulls Martin down into a proper kiss.

"I love you," he whispers on Martin's lips.

"I love you, too," Martin whispers back. He brushes some of the stray hairs that somehow found their way onto Jon's jumper before he kisses him again.

That night, in bed, Martin strokes his hand back and forth over Jon's hair while he sleeps, tucked under Martin's chin. It feels nice. Different.

And Jon is still the prettiest man that Martin has ever met.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #jmart #jonmartin week 2024 #jmart fanfic #jmart fanart

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jenomov · 6 months

Text

stepbrother!jeno x reader

smut, alcohol use

@jenosbigtoe

the loud thud heard from the front door awoke jeno from his deep slumber, making him groan and turn around to look at the time;

3:25am

he mumbles to himself how the dog should go to sleep and stop acting a fool, feeling his sleep state return as quick as it went.

3:37am

regardless of how you got inside your step brother's room, you smile from victory as you hiccup a few times before pulling his blanket off of his body. hic “jenoooo…” you feel him moving a little before sitting up, confused by you and your drunken state. “what the fuck? it’s 3am where have you been?” hic “i-i’ve missed hic you so much jenoooo…”

sure you were drunk, but you were home! why was he so pissed at you? you could feel how angry he was about how irresponsible you are, but really, that just made him hotter. “why didn't you call me to come pick you up?” “why didn’t you text me your location?” “what if something bad happened to you?” he would rant about how taxi drivers are dangerous these days and how you couldn’t trust anyone these days, how bars aren’t safe anymore, la la la… but you’d just be standing there wobbly, flustered and completely turned on at how protective he was of you. “are you even listening to me? this is fucking serious!” he whispered-yelled, truly annoyed at your ignorance. “a-are you my daddy?” you shook your head, “n-no i don't think hic so …”

jeno feels guilty at how cute you look. hearing you slur your words wanted to make him stuff his cock in your mouth to make you shut up, but held the urge to. after all, you guys are step-siblings right? he’d try to usher you to his bed to sit down so he can undress you and help you get into some more comfortable clothes so you could rest for the night, but truly, you had other plans.

you got on your knees and grabbed the strings of his sweats, wanting to feel his hot cock in your mouth. the more your hands touched him, the more you heard his breathing pattern change. you pouted when he slapped your hands away, halting your ministrations. “let go. you need to rest.”

“but jen…” hic “that’s enough, go to sleep- hey!”

you pulled his sweats down to his ankles, revealing his hard cock from his confines. he felt terrible and knew how wrong it was but the way you looked up to him with your drunken sleepy state and needy eyes on all fours…. he couldn’t resist.

you were getting drool and spit all over the floor from how messy you sucked his cock. at first, he grimaced because he just couldn’t believe his own stepsister is sucking him off, but filth overpowered everything else in that moment. you’re just so excited and giggly… drool was all over his knees and knees, you felt him push some of your hair to the side before seeing him taking a good look at your puffy eyes and lips, groaning at the sight. “god- it’s bigger than hic i thought jen…”

“oh y-yeah?”

boy was he going to be in for a long night.

#jenomov #jeno smut #jeno x reader #nct dream smut #lee jeno smut #jeno

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nhlclover · 7 days

Text

i don't even know your name | will smith

word count: 1.84k

summary: after will sees you at a party, he can't get you out of his head despite not knowing your name

warnings: one curse word, descriptions of reader having auburn hair

notes: based on 'i don't even know your name' by shawn mendes. after he came out with noah kahan in toronto, i've been listening to shawn's old albums non-stop.

The music thumped from inside the house, slightly muted to Will and the other patrons in the backyard. The warm glow of string lights overhead illuminated the scene, casting a soft, inviting ambiance over the backyard. Will lined up the shot, raising his arm and tossing the ping pong ball towards the cups at the other end of the table. The ball bounced off the rim of a red solo cup and onto the grass below.

“You are so bad at this, man.” Ryan groaned.

“Fuck off dude.” Will retorted.

Will didn’t want to be at this party if he was being honest. He had a paper to finish and a project to work on. If it wasn’t for Gabe practically guilt-tripping him into coming, Will would be sitting comfortably in their dorm and, if he was being honest with himself, he would probably be playing video games instead of doing his homework.

Gabe and the rest of the guys knew he didn’t want to be there so they goaded him into playing beer pong, hoping that by the end of the first round, they’d have convinced him to stay. However, now nearing the end of the game, Will was anticipating the moment he got to leave. Standing in the backyard, amongst the smokers and those watching their game of pong, Will truly wanted to leave.

“Will, you’re up,” Jacob said, pulling Will from his brief daze. He looked down at the table, noticing that Ryan had gotten them one cup away from a win, which would allow Will to go home.

Will lined up the shot, taking this one more seriously than any past shot. He steadied his hand, aiming for the sole plastic cup at the back of the table. Out of the corner of his eye, Will spotted the sliding door open. His eyes flicked over to the entrance, stopping on your figure as you emerged into the dimly lit backyard. The soft glow of string lights illuminated your silhouette as you stepped onto the back porch, casting a gentle halo around you.

Will's hand paused in mid-air, the ping-pong ball balanced precariously on his fingertips. Gabe, Ryan, and Jacob groaned in frustration.

"What's wrong with you, Will? Take the shot!" Ryan groaned.

Will blinked, tearing his eyes away from the allure of the girl on the porch. “Sorry…just thought I saw something.”

The boys followed Will’s unwavering gaze to the porch, immediately spotting what had captured his attention. “That’ll make him want to stay.” Jacob said under his breath.

“Go talk to her.” Gabe said.

Ryan shook his head, clamping a hand on Will's shoulder. “No, no. Don’t try and get out of this right before Smitty and I are about to win.” Ryan said. “Finish the game first, then he can go flirt.”

“You’re robbing him of a chance at love.” Gabe challenged. Sure, he wasn’t thrilled about being on the verge of losing in beer pong to Ryan who he knew would be bragging the whole night due to his ever-competitive spirit. However, he also really wanted to witness his friend attempt to chat up a girl.

“He can go talk to her after we win!” Ryan said.

Will cast another glance back at you on the porch, watching the shadows dance across your face, highlighting the curve of your cheekbones and the delicate arc of your smile. You seemed to be in deep conversation with a few other girls, giving Will peace of mind that he could quickly make the shot and then go talk to the pretty girl who had completely hijacked his attention.

However, with said attention now split, when Will took his shot he completely airmailed it. The game continued, Will casting occasional glances at you, relief washing over him when you remained on the porch. His turn came once again, this time putting his complete focus on the shot. With a flick of his wrist, Will sent the ball through the air, landing in the cup before Gabe or Jacob could attempt to interfere. Ryan pulled Will in, jumping with the blond nestled under his arm. When Ryan was done with his over-the-top celebrating, Will shoved him off.

“Can I go now?” He asks his friends.

Ryan rolls his eyes, while Gabe and Jacob wave him off, encouraging their friend to talk to the girl who had captured his attention. However, when Will turned to look at you, his eyes came up empty. You had disappeared from where Will had last seen you. He scanned the rest of the backyard in hopes that you had ventured further, however, Will’s heart sank as that was also futile.

He moved inside, searching the kitchen, then the living room for your presence. Or even the presence of your friends who could potentially tell him where you were. Despite his efforts, he found no one. Not you, not your friends. Will returned to the backyard, a sense of defeat washing over him. Will found his friends in another round of beer pong, this time with a girl having taken his spot as Ryan’s teammate.

Will stood next to the table, watching as Ryan guided the girl's arm, aiding her in making a shot. “She’s gone.” Will told them, voice tinged with disappointment.

Gabe exchanged a sympathetic look with Jacob before coming over and patting Will on the back. "Sorry, man,” Gabe said, sympathetically. “Maybe you’ll see her around?”

Will could only shrug, feeling as though he wasn’t going to. Regret gnawed at him, as well as a slight sense of resentment towards Ryan, as he couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve been if he had seized the moment when he had the chance.

Weeks passed since the party and Will was genuinely considering checking himself into a psych ward over you. Ever since the first glimpse, you’d woven yourself into the fabric of Will’s thoughts. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to shake you from his mind. Will was genuinely baffled at the way you’d become a constant presence in his mind. He’d always prided himself on being a fairly level-headed and rational guy, especially on the ice. However, he now found himself fixated on a girl he had only seen briefly.

He didn’t even know your name.

Will felt as though he had to find you, had to unravel the mystery of who you were and why you had such a powerful hold over him. There’d been several times when Will thought he’d seen you. Where he caught a glimpse of auburn locks and nearly ran up to them thinking it was you. But it never was.

During an away game in Maine, he thought he saw you. He spotted a cascade of auburn hair amidst the crowd and nearly completely abandoned the play at hand to get another glimpse. When Will brought it up to his linemates during the intermission, they could only laugh at his suggestion, reminding him of the miles between them and the sheer impossibility of you being there.

Will tried his best to push the idea of you from his mind, trying to force himself to move on and forget about the girl whom he’d decidedly conjured up in his mind. Will fully focused his mind on hockey and schoolwork, which is how he found himself in the library for the first time. He wandered the rows of tables, trying to find a relatively empty spot that he could settle into and work on his assignments.

Will’s eye briefly caught a glimpse of auburn hair but didn’t pay much mind to it. Every other time he’d believed he’d seen you, it turned out to be a doppelganger. But upon a second glance, he couldn’t believe it. He blinked, almost convinced that his bogged-down mind had conjured up the image of you. But as he took a closer look, Will realized it was indeed you—your hair cascading down her shoulders, the exact smile he’d seen on your face that night was back on your lips as you talked with your friends.

Will’s heart race quickened in his chest, the sound loud in his ears. As Will contemplates approaching you, a sudden realization washes over him that he hasn’t thought about what he’d say to you. In his mind, Will envisioned countless scenarios where your paths intersected, where your eyes met, and conversation flowed effortlessly. But in none of these dreams did he consider the stark reality of the moment where he would admit his feelings without the safety net of prepared words. Will grapples with the scenario, knowing that every second of hesitation is a missed opportunity. He can’t wait like he did last time.

Will finds his feet carrying himself in your direction before he knows it. Every last ounce of courage was summoned as he approached you. Will stops at the end of your table, yours as well as your friends' attentions turning to the blond.

"Um, hi," he started, his voice betraying the nervousness he felt. Your eyes, however, were soft as you waited for the blond to continue. "I couldn't help but notice… you seem familiar. Have we met before?"

That was a lie, obviously. Will knew they’d never interacted. But it was his sole attempt at making his presence seem natural. Your lips quirked into a small smile, and he felt a surge of relief at her response. "I don't think so," you replied, your voice soft and melodic. "I'm y/n."

Will’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of your name, a name he had longed to know since the moment he first saw you. "I'm Will," he introduced himself.

"Nice to meet you, Will," you said, returning his smile. There was something about the way you said his name that sent a shiver down his spine.

Emboldened by your friendly demeanour, he decided to take a leap of faith. "Would you like to grab a coffee with me sometime? Maybe we could… catch up on all the times we haven't met before," he added with a sheepish grin, hoping his attempt at humour would lighten the mood.

Your smile widened, and a playful glint danced in your eyes, appreciating the boldness of the boy who’d approached you. "I'd like that, Will," you said. "How about tomorrow afternoon?"

"That sounds perfect," he said, unable to contain the grin that spread across his face.

As you exchanged contact information, Will couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building within him. Will said goodbye to you, as well as your friends that he’d, in all honesty, had forgotten were there. As Will walked away from your table, his heart felt like it was doing cartwheels in his chest. He couldn't believe what just happened — finally mustering the courage to approach you, and to his amazement, you were even more captivating up close. Will walked off, exhilaration coursing through his veins. So much so that he left the library and forgone his pending assignments, excited that he now knew your name.

#will smith #will smith hockey #boston college #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagine #san jose sharks #gabe perreault #ryan leonard #jacob fowler #will smith imagine

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merakiui · 4 months

Note

Hi Mera hope you had a wonderful day night!

I was wondering who you thought, out of the test boys, would be the most likely to try to steal you away from your partner? (Also can I be >_< Anon?)

Hi hiiii, >_< anon!!!! :D omg this is a fun question!!! I think these are the characters who would try to steal you from your partner:

✧ Riddle - if your partner is anyone from Octavinelle (i.e. the trio), Riddle is working overtime to find a way to get you out of there... T^T he will not have you succumb to the bad influences that are the Leech twins and Azul. Riddle has such strict criteria a person must meet in order for them to even be perceived by him as your partner, and no one's managed to earn his approval yet, thus your current partner is not worthy of being called your partner. Quite ironic how he's the only one who can fit into his own criteria. Perhaps he's just destined to be your boyfriend after all. :)

✧ Ace - it's for such a shallow reason, too. He just wants what he doesn't have. T_T especially if you're Deuce's partner. Ace just likes to be a menace, but in being a menace he unintentionally falls for you and now he's really determined to make you his.

✧ Trey - he does it so subtly!!!! You won't even know Trey's aiming to steal you from your partner when he packages leftover baked goods and sends them your way or when he texts you good morning/good night. He's just being friendly, but Trey knows the way to anyone's heart is through delicious food (his boy-next-door charm is just an added bonus). He's hard at work learning all of your gastronomic preferences so that he can effectively win your affections. That, and he's surprisingly discreet with his flirting (whether he intends to be or not).

✧ Cater - it really depends with Cater. He's so good at being a social butterfly, and he knows just how to pop in and snatch you away from your partner for fun photo ops. He just loves being around you, so much so that he may end up third-wheeling you and your partner. He invites himself into your life and before you realize it you're hanging out more and more with Cater than you are with your partner. But it's okay! You don't really need your partner anyway, do you? Not when you have Cay-Cay!

✧ Leona - he knows he's king in Savanaclaw, so it's absolutely mind-boggling to him that you'd settle for some herbivore at the bottom of the food chain. Leona doesn't even have to try very hard to steal you from your partner. He has such an enticing, confident energy about him. That, and no one's going to try to go against the Leona Kingscholar. You might as well start calling yourself (Name) Kingscholar now because your partner can never hope to compete with Leona. <3

✧ Ruggie - also another one that's situation-dependent. If Ruggie truly does like you, then he's willing to exert the energy to come up with a sly scheme to separate you and your partner. He's very good at it, too. Immensely sneaky. >:) you'll never even know he was the reason for the inevitable split.

✧ Azul - it's tako. Envy and greed are such a potent, destructive combination, and he wants you all to himself.

✧ Jade - he's willing to play the long game. Jade will make your partner wish they never even fell in love with you. He is so refined and ruthless in the way he goes about pursuing you while also pulling strings to slowly but surely integrate himself into your life. Your partner won't stand a chance.

✧ Floyd - he's quick with it. No mind games or elaborate cons needed. He'll beat your partner up and collect you in the aftermath.

✧ Jamil - he's doing everything behind the scenes, and it all comes together in a devastatingly neat package. Jamil keeps track of his lies, expertly weaving a web that ultimately leaves you ensnared and partner-less in the very end. You don't need to worry about details. Jamil will be vague and terse about it. :)

✧ Kalim - he does it unintentionally (or maybe he's fully aware of it). Kalim has so much love for you, so it hurts him when he sees how happy you are with your partner. :( he wants to be in that spot! He wants you to call him your boyfriend and he wants to be able to hold and kiss you and take you on dates. He lavishes you with extravagant gifts under the guise of friendship and constantly shows up to your dates. It's pure coincidence, but Kalim has a way of making you and your partner feel so suffocated because neither of you can ever get a word in with him. In the aftermath of your heartbreak, Kalim's there to pick up the pieces.

✧ Vil - ooooo Vil....... he has so much to say about your partner. So many critiques to give. He is the biggest hater when it comes to your relationship. It should be him you call your beloved, not that sorry spud who calls themself your partner. Vil knows his worth and that it’s pointless to compete when he will ultimately be the victor. He constantly checks up on your social media to see if that taken status ever changes, but it will in due time. Vil knows how to play this role flawlessly.

✧ Rook - it's Rook. If Rook doesn't drive your partner away because of how strange he is, then he will stalk you from the shadows until paranoia and dread nearly consume you and drive you into isolation. You'll spend less time with your partner because now you're too afraid to go out, lest you run into your stalker. Rook will come to collect you soon. He shan't make the love of his life wait any longer!

✧ Epel - maybe he's trying to prove that he can get a partner, or maybe he's just feeling competitive knowing that your partner has you and he doesn't. Epel knows he should be your partner, so he's determined to win you over, even if it means he has to act, Great Seven forbid, cute to achieve his goals.

✧ Malleus - it's likely unintentional. Perhaps a passing comment about how he's interested in you and suddenly all of Diasomnia is vowing to bring you and Malleus together. Whoever was dating you immediately breaks up with you when they find out Malleus is crushing on you. There are just some battles you shouldn't fight...

✧ Lilia - love is war, so Lilia might play a little unfairly when he finds himself enthralled. He can't help it for being so devilishly cute! Of course you'd fall for him and his adorable charms, too. Who wouldn't? He's old, so he has plenty of experience in the art of romantic warfare. He's determined.

✧ Neige - it is absolutely intentional and he's so obvious about it. >_< Neige is so obsessed with you!!!! He wants you all to himself, so could your partner do him a favor and break up with you so that Neige can have you instead? :D and no one could possibly say no to Neige! He's just so sweet and so famous and he could ruin your partner with his sheer influence alone. But he won't. <3 so long as he gets to have you hehe.

✧ Rollo - he disapproves of everyone you date. It doesn't matter if they're a decent person; he dislikes them regardless. Anyone who isn't him is undeserving of being your partner. Only Rollo can fill that space, and he fully intends to do so in his own little ways. You'll tell your partner that you're only joining the student council president for breakfast because you want to be friendly, but it's during these meetings where Rollo acts like his charming, cordial self. He reserves rare smiles for you and is genuinely upstanding and sweet. But only for you. And soon you'll fall for him. At least, that's what he hopes will happen. If not, he can resort to drastic measures. Anything for you.

#twisted chit chat #>_< anon #yandere twst

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voidpetrova · 8 months

Text

minho enjoys being dommed i stand by that.

minho was a fucking whore. you’ve tried to convince yourself that it wasn’t true for months, but it didn’t work. you also had to admit you liked it. he was a whore just for you. a needy, whiny, desperate boy, one who was sexually deprived after spending his life inside those walls, one who let you do anything and everything to him; one who was all yours and only wanted you. if he wanted attention from you, he'd get it, one way or another.

he was a sensitive boy. such a big giver, too. loved eating you out, loved making you feel good. he had cum in his pants multiple times, just from eating you out. yes, he truly was sensitive. he needed you, and you knew it. prior to you, he had no sexual experience whatsoever, so when you had started dating and sleeping together, it was something he couldn't get enough of. he loved it when you took care of him, something he had longed for, for years.

the pants and mewls that left his mouth were absolutely sinful. he was close to losing his fucking mind. he promised he’d been good, whining a string of, “please, please! hmnn—i’ve been s’good, please. just let me — fuck! just let me cum, please. you’re being such a–” and you’ll interrupt his sentence every time. squeezing his dick with your slick, moist walls as more cries pass his lips. his hair was sweaty and sticky, heart racing as he whimpered, his cock flushed with heat as you bounced on it, your pace agonizingly slow.

his hands remained at his sides obediently, listening to your orders as per usual, though, his digits couldn’t help but tangle themselves in your hair sometimes, trailing down south to toy with your tits. you frowned, pulling yourself off his cock to tell him, “what did i tell you? keep your hands to yourself or i won’t fuck you.” he couldn't help it, he needed to touch you. he frowned, hands retreating as he relied on his eyes. he watched you, the way your fingers traced his abs and circled his nipples as you bounced on his cock, boobs practically in his face as you used him to get yourself off. he loved it—loved when you used him.

he started losing his voice, weak moans clawing themselves out of his throat, not long before a whimper followed as you began bouncing faster. you kept taking it away from him. he was so close—he feels it, and you knew it. you kept switching paces, slowing down each time you felt he was close to cumming.

“please,” his voice cracked, and you almost felt sorry for him. you leaned forward, pace quickening once more as your hungry pussy clenched around his cock, planting a kiss onto his lips. “p-please, i need'a cum so bad.” he leaned his head back, panting as he tried to regulate his breath, feeling as if he'd pass out at any given second from the overstimulation.

“you've been a good boy, haven't you, minnie?” you purred, hot breath tickling his ear, tip of your tongue tracing his earlobe. he whined, eyes glued to the way your back arched, ass bouncing and slamming into his balls. he nodded, whining desperately, and boy did it make you wet. “i've been so good,” he panted breathlessly, his orgasm creeping up on him. “so good for you 'n only you.”

you didn't respond—there was no need to. he knew, as soon as you began bouncing on his cock, keeping the same fast tempo, that you were gonna give him what he needed.

#tmr #the maze runner #death cure #scorch trials #minho maze runner #minho x reader #minho fanfiction #tmr minho #tmr fanfiction #tmr smut #minho smut #minho x reader smut

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glittergelpensblog · 9 months

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Shadow and Song (Azriel x Reader)

As the second youngest Archeron sister, it always felt like it was you and Feyre against the world. You felt like you lost a part of yourself the day she left, and then came back to leave again. When she shows up at your door with three winged fae, you refuse to do anything but help her this time.

This chapter is mostly the building of the reader's relationship with Feyre, there will 100% be more parts :) Part Two

It was quiet in the estate, as it always was in the winter. Nothing could be heard but the soft sound of the piano you had been messing with for the past hour, unable to create anything but a deep, somber melody.

The instrument was something you had became familiar with as a child, teaching yourself different chords, stringing them together with notes to create song. It was one of the few items the collectors did not take when they came to humiliate your father that day, the scratched and worn instrument more of a hassle to remove than what it was worth.

It annoyed Nesta when you were a child, but as you grew older and your jamming of chords streamed together to sound more like music than torture, she would sit in the room with you as you played, on those long winter nights with no sound other than the soft notes and the crackling hearth.

But since Feyre left, you were unable to put together a single song that wasn't melancholy, your joy and happy tune gone with her.

You and Feyre were always the closest, being not even a year apart. You were born on the new year, and Feyre born eleven months later on Winter Solstice. Despite you being older, it was always Feyre that protected you, never letting you into the woods to help hunt, always warning you of the town boys who's stares lingered too long.

Without being allowed to help Feyre, you supported your family in different ways, you got a job as a servant woman in the local pub, serving mead and roast to loud drunken men and women.

Even with your miserable job and Feyre's hunting, your family could barely stay afloat, nearly dying every winter, either from the starvation or from the sharp words your sisters always seemed to sling at each other, tongues the only weapons your family could truly afford.

And it remained that way for what felt like eternity, the only peace that was brought to you was seeing your sister's face at the end of the day. Safe, or as safe as she could be in the conditions you all lived in.

It was Feyre who was there for you, after every bad evening at the pub, after every hurtful word thrown your way by Nesta. She would always comfort you with her warm smile, sit by your side at the piano bench, head on your shoulder as you played. She had even surprised you one night, painting deep blue mountains all over for you to see when you got home from work.

But then she was gone, and you were heartbroken. You often wondered why it had been her who had to go take care of your aunt, and not Elain or Nesta. They were more proper than the two of you anyways, would keep her better company than a huntress.

And when your dads fortune was found at the bottom of the sea, you felt empty. Feyre wasn't there to see it, to see that you made it, to see that your family had survived.

And when she came back, she found you exactly where you would always be whenever she got home. Sitting at your piano, fingers delicately toying at the keys. It was't the same piano, of course, but a shiny new one made of maple and real ivory keys, your uncomfortable wooden bench replaced by one with a plush, deep blue cushion.

You wept, you wept so hard as you turned and found her standing behind you, you had hugged your sister so tight and fought the urge to never let go.

And she was gone as soon as she had come, telling you and your sisters the story of what had truly happened. How there was no aunt, no found fortune, but a fae man who had taken her, who had taken care of your family as he had taken care of her.

You saw it in her eyes, no longer an ice cold blue, but ones that had shone like the stars in the sky. This fae man, Tamlin, made her happy, loved her, and she loved him.

It hurt to let her go, but you knew it was what was best for her. This was no longer her life. You had tired to go with her, you had begged. But her and Nesta refused, keeping you under close watch the night she left. Feyre, protecting you from the horrors of Prythian, and Nesta, stopping you from what she was sure would be certain death.

It had been months, and you still haven't heard from her, did not know if she was okay. Sometimes, you had wondered what horrors she was enduring, but you would quickly shut those thoughts out, reminding yourself of how strong she was, how she kept your family alive for years. She was a survivor, and you knew some fae woman living under a rock wouldn't change that.

The creaking of the front door snapped you from your thoughts. You never got visitors, especially with your father gone on business. Even with Grayson, it was always Elain at his home, never yours.

Not bothering to shut the cover on your piano, you sat up quickly, brushing any wrinkles out of your maroon gown before you strode towards the entrance of the home.

"Mrs. Laurent" You called, almost at the front door. "Who is here to visit?"

There was silence as you edged closer, worry starting to edge your features. Mrs. Laurent was never silent, always a light-hearted, protective woman, being the closest thing to a mother you had ever had.

You peered over the woman's soft shoulder, the breath leaving your lungs as you took in the sight before you.

It was your sister in the doorway, an unnatural beauty and elegance lining her features. The same but different in every way.

She paled instantly at the sight of you, face contorting into worry and fear. Her eyes, so beautiful, were not shining like stars how they were the last time you saw her. They were empty. So empty.

What happened to your sister?

"Feyre." You breathed, silent tears streaming down your face now. You missed her, you missed her so much.

"Y/N" She croaked, and before she could speak another word, before any tears could form in her eyes, you had all but shoved Mrs. Laurent aside, enveloping your sister in a warm embrace.

You were scared to let go, scared to leave the doorway. Knowing she was not here to stay. The longer you held onto her, the longer it would take for her to leave.

She was taller than before. She once was almost the same height as you, but now, to top of your head barely reached her nose. You knew, you knew something that happened, that this was not the Feyre you had last seen. But you did not care. She was here, right now, and you were not going to let that go.

"You're back." You whispered, silently crying into her shoulder.

#acotar imagine #acotar #acotar x reader #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #elain archeron #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel acotar #cassian #cassian x reader #cassian imagine #cassian acotar #rhysand #rhysand imagine #rhysand x reader

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backtothefanfiction · 4 months

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Done| tasm!peter imagine

Warnings: angsty, fighting, break up

A/N: it’s been a little moment, I need to give my boy some love but I also just feel angsty so….

“PETER, LOOK AT ME!” You screamed at him from the kitchen doorway.

You’d been arguing for the last 10 minutes. You wish you could say this was something new, but this fight had been going on ever since you first met. Peter was in love with you, has always been in love with you, but would rather punish himself than go through what he did with Gwen again. But he could never stay away. He always came running back. Crawling back down into that web that he carefully constructed and built just to trap you and keep you there. But every time that web shook just a little, he’d get cold feet. Instead of staying and facing what came head on or fixing the string that broke, he runs, only to realise he can’t let you go- he needs you. And so he always comes back.

Tonight- tonight was a running night… and you’ve had enough.

He can’t look at you, won’t look at you because he knows he will break.

“I can’t do this again.” You say as you sigh, your hands rubbing away the tears streaking down your face as you turn into the kitchen. “I can’t,” you repeat, more for yourself to keep your conviction than for his benefit. “I can’t.”

You turn and notice the fresh flowers you’d put in a vase not 2 hours ago when he turned up for dinner. You saw them for what they truly were now, apology flowers. You didn’t want them. Before you could fully process the action you had picked up the glass, stormed back into the doorway between the kitchen and living room and thrown them at the wall, just above his head. His head swerved to the side out the way, but still he didn’t get up, he didn’t look at you, he didn’t say anything. He knew there was nothing he could say to make this any better and knew you just needed to get things out of your system.

“We’re done, Peter, okay? We’re done.” You reiterated as you picked up your keys off the counter and started making your way to the front door, you really needed some air before you burnt down the whole apartment with your rage. “Pack up all your shit. I want you gone by the time I come back.” You said, putting on your coat. “And leave your key on the coffee table.”

He just nodded. No final words, no more excuses or apologies. No goodbye. Just a nod of acknowledgment. Is that all you had become- is that all you would be the next time you ran into him.

You’d slammed the door and taken 5 steps down the hall when you froze. No- you realised. You weren’t done. But this fight was.

When you walked back into the apartment Peter was picking up the flowers off of the floor. He places the bunch down onto the coffee table and stuffs his hands into his pockets as you slowly walk towards him.

“I thought you said you were done.”

“I’m not done.” You say quietly, “but this, this is done.” You say to him. “This argument, is done. Peter I’m not Gwen. If I see you swinging towards danger, first thing I do is start running the other way. Why do you keep coming back?” You ask him. You’ve gone so soft, like talking to a toddler. He wants a fight, it’s easier if he has the fight. Then you can paint him as the bad guy and walk away. He can continue to punish himself for something that was never his fault, it was hers. And for him to keep taking that out on you, his anger, his grief, it was wrong. To keep taking it out on himself. It’s wrong.

He’s silent, so you continue, “I’m not your punching bag Peter, I’m your girlfriend- and I have been for 3 years now, whether you like to acknowledge that or not. Peter, look at me,” you ask again, reaching out for him, your hands wrapping around his wrists and pulling his hands from his pockets. “Peter, touch me.” You say softly, guiding his hands to your body. It’s a slow process, but he slowly moves them to the tops of your arms, finally finding a home on your cheeks when he finally looks at you. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere… and we both know neither are you…. This fight is done now. It’s time to move on. It’s time to let her go.”

You watch as his eyes soften, his own fight leaving him because he knows you’re right.

“You’ll never overcome fear of you keep running away.” You remind him. “You’re Spider-Man…” you say, leaving the sentence open for him to finish.

“And Spider-Man never runs away.” He concedes.

“Tell me it’s done. Tell me this fight is done.” You say one last time.

You feel his whole body sigh as he finally concedes, released that control, that power and just begins to float, to survive. “It’s done.” He agrees.

His arms wrap around you and he kisses the top of your head as he holds you tight. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs into your hair.

“I know.” You coo. “I know.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #andrew!peter parker #peter parker imagine #spider-man #andrew!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #peter Parker angst #andrew!peter imagine #andrew peter x reader

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bunnliix · 1 month

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The Invisible Strings that Bind Us - Chapter Three

The angst has arrived! It's not as bad as it will be later on, but it's definitely angsty. Also, I'm adding in my own details to flesh out y/n some more, but I'm trying to keep her as neutral as possible, I promise. I have about 6 chapters pre-written, but after that, the chapters will come at whatever pace I'm able to write at.

Masterlist

word count: 3.4k

warnings: ANGST, fighting, yelling, people are angry, mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, but no actual details are provided, Minho being a lil shit, I think that's it

Chan ushers everyone into the room, guiding Y/n over to a chair and pulling it out for her, only sitting down once everyone else had. The two youngest and Hyunjin sat over on the left side of Chan, who sat to the right of Y/n, while Minho sat on her other side, and Han, Changbin, and Seungmin on his other side. Across from them, sat the managers for Stray Kids, and some of the higher ups in the company. As soon as all nine of them had walked in, all eyes in the room were locked on the newcomer, and this was why Chan had kept her between himself and Minho.

Chan breaks the silence in the room, leaning forward towards the staff members.

“This is Y/n, our last soulmate. We’ve confirmed this fact, and there is no way that she isn’t our soulmate. This meeting is just to inform you all about this, so that we’re all on the same page. We’d also like to have a bigger place, and one apartment instead of two separate ones, as we are now a bigger group, and we want to be closer, and not have to be split up.“

Chan spoke for the entire group, as he was the best suited to clearly get across their needs, and the group was on the same page, so no one needed to add onto anything he said. However, the staff didn’t have the same reaction.

“And how have you confirmed that she’s your last soulmate? She could be a sasaeng for all we know, and that she’s fooled all of you. And frankly, this is bad for your reputation and popularity if this gets out. She could ruin you all, you realize that?” One of the higher ups interrupted Chan, looking upset at this news.

“You don’t need to know how we confirmed it, but she’s here now and she’s ours. We all know she’s our last soulmate, and that’s all we care about. She’s moving here to Seoul to be with us, and she’s a part of our lives, as idols and outside of that. We expect that she’ll go with us where she can, and that will be that.” Chan replied curtly, anger filling his voice as he continued talking. “She’ll need security, and if the company won’t provide any, then we will independently find security for her. This meeting is simply to inform you of all of these facts, it was never meant to be a discussion.” He finished.

Chan was visibly upset, fists clenched and his body tense. The anger rolled off him in rage, he couldn’t believe that they would say that. That they’d really believe that he and the boys would be fooled by someone. Changbin laid a hand on Chan’s shoulder, also visibly upset, and trying to reign in his own emotions. Everyone was in varied states of anger, while Y/n was trying to make herself appear smaller, worrying that her presence may hurt the group.

“I’m happy for you all, that you’ve found your last soulmate,” their main manager spoke up, “Though I worry what this will mean, if your fans find out. You know how vicious they can be.” He said.

He wasn’t wrong, but it hurt to hear that from their manager, that they’re close to, that even he thought that their soulmate could bring ruin to their group. Minho pulled Y/n and Han close, feeling the anxiety they were both starting to experience.

“If our fans are truly fans, then they’ll be happy for us that we’ve found our last soulmate. If people get upset about it, then they were never true fans.” Changbin piped up, defending Chan and the group.

The boys all voiced their agreement while Minho just stared down the staff members, anger clear in his eyes. It very quickly turned into an argument between the boys and the staff, words flying across the table, and it seemed as if Changbin was ready to leap across the table, judging by his expression. Y/n and Han both leaned closer to Minho, feeling very uncomfortable amongst all the yelling and loud voices. He held the two of them close, bringing an arm around each of their shoulders.

“I WILL NEVER SEND MY SOULMATE AWAY, NO MATTER WHAT YOU MAY WANT. SHE’S OURS AND YOU’D HAVE TO KILL ME FIRST IF YOU EVER THOUGHT ABOUT TRYING TO GET RID OF HER!” Chan roared, having stood up and slammed his hands on the table out of his fury. His eyes were burning with anger, and he looked one more word away from strangling the staff members where they sat.

The others were equally as mad, also having stood up when Chan did, ready to defend their soulmates and their group. Minho was done with all of this, standing up and grabbing the hands of Y/n and Han, dragging the two of them out of the room with him. The boys watched as the three of them left, Chan glad that Minho did so, but also worried for his soulmates.

“We’re done here, I’ve just informed you of what you needed to know, so we’re leaving now.” He tells them, before looking at their manager. “I’ll be talking with you later, manager-nim.” He told the man, as he gathered everyone out of their seats and they all left the room, leaving the staff and higher ups by themselves.

The remaining boys followed Chan as they made their way down the halls to the elevator, on a mission to find where their three soulmates had disappeared to. Everyone’s phone’s go off, and Felix checks it to see that Minho was telling them to meet in the lobby. The second eldest was taking Han and Y/n home, and no one was going to stop him. They rushed down to the lobby, finding the three of them on seats in the corner of the lobby, Y/n now wearing Minho’s jacket, almost drowning in it. Felix rushed over, sitting down next to Y/n and wrapping his arms around her.

“We’re taking you home, soulmate. I’ll tell you this every time you need to hear it, but nothing of what those people said is true. They’re looking out for their own interests, not ours. We want you here, you will not ruin anything, nor will you being our soulmate hurt us or Stray Kids.” Felix whispered to her.

Meanwhile, Chan had already called cars to come pick them up and drive them back to the dorms, telling them to be quick. Thankfully, the drivers quickly showed up, and Chan ushered them all into the cars, sending Changbin and Hyunjin with the two youngest, as he stayed with the sunshine triplets and Minho. Felix clung to Y/n the entire ride home, not letting her out of his hold. The car ride felt like it took forever to arrive at their apartments, but as soon as they did, Minho was pulling Han out of the car, before reaching back to pull Y/n out as well, pulling the two behind him as he walked inside and to the elevator. The boys ran to catch up, arriving just as the elevator doors opened, everyone filing in.

It didn’t take long for the elevator to reach their floor, and they were pushing each other to get out of the elevator. Minho took his two to his dorm, Felix pushing ahead to open the door for them.

The members stopped to take off their shoes, Han helping Y/n take off hers as Minho gave her slippers to put on. The duo of them, followed by Felix, lead Y/n into the living room, Han sitting down on the couch and pulling her down next to him. He wrapped an arm around her waist, keeping her close and nodding at his soulmate, who left them there as he left to the kitchen. Felix sat down on the other side of Y/n, reaching out for her hand, lacing their fingers together.

“Jagiya is getting us snacks, okay?” Han said to Y/n, getting a nod in response.

Y/n had withdrawn into herself since they left that room, neither Han or Minho being able to get more than a couple words out of her at a time. She hadn’t seemed to spiral or have any anxiety or panic attacks. They were grateful for that, since they weren’t sure what they would do if she had a panic attack. The two sunshine twins just sat with her, keeping her company as cat man Minho prepared snacks and drinks for everyone.

The other five boys came into the room, everyone having separated to change or drop their things off in their rooms, and Hyunjin moved to sit on the floor in front of Felix, while the others sat down in various parts of the living room. Chan turned to look over at the three on the couch, getting shrugs from the boys, and a small smile from Y/n.

“You doing okay, Y/nnie?” Chan asked, adding the nickname in hopes of getting a verbal response.

“I’m okay, promise.” She replied, looking at him, using her free hand to gesture at him to come closer. She wanted him close, he provided her with so much comfort, even when she was just a Stay.

Chan moved closer, and she reached out for his hand, which he grabbed and held. “I’m here, it’s okay. You’re ours now, and we’ll protect you and keep you safe. I’ll protect you and keep you safe, okay?” He said, looking up at her.

She nodded, looking down at him with so much love in her eyes. She may not know if she was in love with him or any of them, but she knew that she loved them in some form, and she trusted them to protect her, and she just trusted them in general. She knew that they’d do what they could to keep her safe. She tried to convey all of that to him without words, because she didn’t think she could put this into words.

Chan could see that, and he couldn’t hold back his smile, squeezing her hand, trying to tell her that he understood. He loved his kids, in many many ways, and he knew he’d grow to love her in those same ways given time. He moved to lay his head in her lap, still looking up at her. She pulled her hand away, only to use it to run her fingers through his hair, and he melted like butter.

The others cooed at him, happy to see their leader and soulmate relax like this. He worked himself half to death, so maybe their newest soulmate could change that, if this is what something little like this could do. Minho heard the coos, and having just finished putting together snacks and drinks for everyone, came out to see Chan and Y/n, smiling at how at ease Chan looked.

“Drinks and food, come get it.” He announced, catching the attention of everyone in the room. He laid the food on the table, but picked up a couple drinks and some snacks for Y/n, Han and himself. He moved to sit down on the couch, replacing Felix’s place next to their smallest soulmate, the sunshine boy, who had gotten up to grab some food for himself.

He sat back on the couch, happy to watch everyone else in the room and just observe. He was content, just to have all eight of his soulmates in one room, and to see all of them happy. That’s what made him happy, and he couldn’t wait until Y/n was here permanently, and when they’d all be in one apartment again, and they’d have so much fun. They could show their smallest soulmate the places here they loved, introduce her to their friends, have someone to come home to every day, there was so much to be excited for. Minho knew that every one of them couldn’t be happier than they’ve been today, to finally feel complete now that they have their last piece here with them.

“So, what are we gonna do now?” Jeongin spoke up, drawing everyone’s attention.

“We could watch a movie?” Hyunjin advised, his sentence finishing on a questioning note.

“A movie is fine with me, but I’m not sure I’ll pay attention.” Y/n said, still carding her fingers through Chan’s hair, the older man putty in her hands.

Murmurs of agreement came from the boys, and it was quickly decided to put on a children's movie that didn’t need to worry about the language barrier, and everyone knew it probably was on for background noise more so than to actually watch it.

“Oh wait, Y/n, we never asked how old you were. So, when’s your birthday? And how old are you?” Changbin asked her.

“I’m a 2000 baby, so I’m the same age as half of you, but my birthday is September 14th. So yes, Han, I share a birthday with you.” She said, looking over at Han while she said the second sentence. Her birthday twin looked shocked, but then quickly pulled her into a tight hug.

“Oh my gosh, my soulmate is my birthday twin!!” Han screams out, causing Y/n to pull her hands up to her ears.

“Could you be any louder Han Jisung?” Chan and Y/n said at the same time.

“Oh! I’m so sorry Y/nnie! I didn’t mean to hurt you! Please forgive me.” He apologized, looking at you with doe eyes.

“I forgive you, but please never do that next to my ears again.” She told him, before impulsively leaning in to kiss his cheek.

Han’s face turned as red as a tomato, not expecting Y/n to kiss him, and the rest of the boys were as shocked as he was, bits of jealousy sprouting in more than a couple of them. Y/n pulled back, her face showing just how flustered she was as well, as she went to hide her face in the couch behind her. They boys all cooed at her, finding her embarrassment adorable.

“Shush!” She shouted at them, but the word and sound was muffled by the couch she was hiding in.

All that happened was them laughing at her and cooing how cute she was. She pouted, and refused to turn to look at them. Minho smirked, and reached out to grab her sides, tickling her, as she screamed and yelled for him to stop. He refused to stop and she eventually moved back towards him, in an attempt to get him to stop. He used this as an opportunity to pull her closer and into his lap. She froze up as she felt him do this, and he chuckled at her actions.

“Jagiya, why did you freeze?” He whispered, leaning down close to her ear.

“You try getting pulled into someone’s lap unexpectedly. I bet you’d react the same.” She whisper-shouted at him.

“Adorable, 토끼.” He said, chuckling in her ear, making her shiver and pull away, moving out of his lap and turning around.

“No. No, bad cat man.” She said, pointing at him.

He just raised an eyebrow at her, and she pulled her hands up and curled them into fists, joking that she’d fight him. He leaned back on his hands, showing no fear, knowing she wouldn’t do it. She’s too cute to try anything.

“Okay, no fighting. Y/n, hands down, now. Minho, let’s not kill our soulmate, yeah?” Chan stepped in, scolding both of them.

Y/n folded her arms across her chest, mumbling, “He started it, the lil fucker.”

Han overheard it, causing him to laugh, which made everyone look at him. “You better not let Jagi hear you say that about him. You’d be in for it then baby.” He said between laughs, not being able to keep a straight face.

Y/n slapped his arm, pouting. “You shut up.” She told him, unhappy with his reaction. He laughed at how embarrassed she was at being overheard. She pouted, getting up off the couch, and out of the living room going down one of the hallways. Chan stood up and went after her. The boys waited in the living room, only to hear a shout of Chan’s name, and their curiosity peaked.

A minute later, he walked back in with Y/n laying over his shoulder. She smacked his ass, telling him to put her down. He chuckled and dropped her back into Minho’s lap.

“There you go.” He said, smiling that smug smile at her, as Minho’s arms wrapped around her waist, locking in her against him. She tried to get out, but his grip was too tight, not letting her go.

“Yah, Minho, let me go!” She told him, only to receive a smirk and a head shake in response.

“So cute, our adorable soulmate.” Changbin teased her, giggling.

She crossed her arms and pouted once again. Why must her soulmates be like this, she wasn’t prepared for this. What was in the drinks Minho gave everyone? There had to be something, with how they’re acting. Lino leaned his head on her shoulder, giggling like a smug lil fucker.

“Why are you so insistent on getting away from me, hmm jagi?” He asked, in a tone a voice that told everyone that he wouldn’t be taking anything except the truth.

“Because you’re being a lil shit.” Y/n deadpanned, done with him by this point.

“Awww jagi, you love me like that.” Minho said, causing the others to look at him, this was the Minho that they saw with Han, the teasy one who was ready to make the other person into a flustered mess.

“Minho, chill out.” Chan barked at him, knowing that he was crossing the line, when it came to their new soulmate, and he wasn’t going to let him go any farther. He didn't think this would be what happened when he left Y/n in the arms of his cat-like soulmate.

“Fine.” Minho replied, loosening his grip on Y/n as well. She used this opportunity to move over to Seungmin, who looked surprised.

“I’m staying with you, you haven’t been bad yet today.” She said, looking at him.

He laughed, smugly smirking at the other men. “Okay, that’s fine with me. We could even go to my room to get away from them, if you really wanted to.” He told her.

“Hmmm, that wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

“YAH, Seungmin-ah, no stealing our soulmate away for yourself.” Han inserted himself into the conversation, Felix, Hyunjin and Changbin backed him up.

While the five of them were occupied, Minho found a way over there, grabbing Y/n’s hand and stealing her away. He wasn’t completely unnoticed, Chan was watching all of this and quickly followed behind, leaving the six boys in the living room. Minho led her to his bedroom, but before he was able to close his door, Chan pushed the door back open.

“What do you think you’re doing, Minho?” Chan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m just taking our y/nnie somewhere quieter. Right, jagi?” He answered Chan, directing the last sentence towards their younger soulmate.

The answer they received from her was a yawn, y/n covering her mouth in the process. The two boys cooed at her, smiling at her.

“I think it’s time for you to rest.” Chan said to her, as Minho directed her to his bed. The eldest of the two sat down next to y/n on the bed, as Minho searched his closet for clothes she could change into. He found a long oversized top for her to wear, and a pair of shorts.

“We’ll leave so you can get dressed.” Chan said, as he got off the bed and moved to the door along with Minho. Y/n quickly changed, and hopped back onto the bed as she called out for the two to reenter the room. They reentered, smiling at her as she sat on Lino’s bed. The younger of the two men came over and pulled her off the bed, so that he was able to pull the covers back for her. She crawled underneath his sheets, the man covering her back up again after she was laid in bed.

“We’ll leave you to get some sleep.” Chan said as he moved to the top of the bed, ruffling y/n’s hair before he grabbed Minho and dragged him out of the man’s bedroom.

Y/n turned over on her side, closing her eyes as she heard the noise in the apartment die down. It didn’t take long before sleep claimed her, her dreams filled with the men who were now her soulmates, and everything they’d get to do together.

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Taglist: @queen-thiccness

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hypnoneghoul · 1 month

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may i please request a cumulus and mountain? i dont see enough of them.

(also love your writing mwah 💋 /p)

630 words, puppy play, teeny tiny bit of objectification blink and you'll miss it, cumulus calls herself mommy once

“What was that, baby?” Cumulus cooed, running her fingers through Mountain’s sweat-tangled hair. He was settled on his knees between her own as she was busy with something on her phone, one hand on it and the other on the earth ghoul. Delicate chain of a leash loosely wrapped around her wrist.

He’s been down there for a while, cock rock hard and leaking and his brain turned off. Cumulus told him to wait so wait he would, but it didn’t mean he’d be quite alright with that. Mountain whined loudly again and batted his eyelashes up at Cumulus, licking his lips.

“You want something, pup?” she asked and he nodded so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. “And what would that be, hm?”

The problem was there were no words in Mountain’s fuzzy head. He opened his mouth and let his tongue loll out and nuzzled sweetly against the soft skin of Cumulus’ thigh, as close to the apex of her legs as he’d dare.

“Oh, you want a treat. Is that right, pup? Want to taste me?” The earth ghoul shuddered and nodded again with another whimper falling out of his mouth. “Well, I suppose you’ve been good for me today. You deserved it.”

Mountain could hear his own tail thumping against the floor repetitively as he brought up his hands and pawed desperately at the air ghoulette’s legs, too blissed out to be able to get her shorts down on his own.

“Oh, I don’t have to do that,” Cumulus laughed. “You’re a smart puppy, you’ll get there.”

Mountain frowned and whined at the lack of help. He leaned in to the strings of the ghoulette’s shorts and took them into his mouth, starting to chew aggressively as if they offended him. “Hey, Mountain, no! Bad puppy, no! No chewing!”

The earth ghoul recoiled with another sad whimper at that, feeling desperate and helpless. He slumped back on the floor and stared at Cumulus with big, pitiful eyes.

“Don’t you look at me like that,” the air ghoulette sighed. “You know I can’t say no to you like that, evil little thing. You’re too cute for your own good.”

She reached out again to scratch behind his horn as she put her phone down and used her free hand to move the crotch of her shorts to the side. She spread her legs some more before grabbing Mountain’s antler and pulling him in. “Here, have your treat.”

He didn’t need any more encouragement, immediately diving in with a happy chirp on his lips. Cumulus was already wet and soon enough his drool made her cunt truly dripping and there wasn’t enough brain in Mountain to do anything more than lick at her sloppily. After all it was his treat and he just wanted to feast, making Cumulus cum wasn’t exactly his priority in such a state.

She would cum, of course, Mountain all desperate and needy for her turned her on impossibly. It was adorable and a little fun how he went on about the act—just shoving his face in between her legs and licking all over.

“Yes, that’s it. That’s it, good boy– oh, yes, pup. Lick away.” She tangled her fingers in his long amber hair and scratched at his scalp some more. It was for his enjoyment, but her motives were a bit impure–

“Oh,” she moaned loudly when her ministrations made Mountain kick up a loud, rumbly purr, that in turn made him whole vibrate. Especially his mouth. “Yes, pup, that’s good. My lovely little vibe, aren’t you?”

He chirped at the praise. Cumulus was getting close and so she decided to give Mountain some more incentive. “Make mommy cum and I’ll let you get off on my tits.”

#hypnone writes #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #mountain ghoul #cumulus ghoulette

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 9 months

Text

Criminal Minds | Masterlist

SERIES

Begin Again:

Chapter One: The Savior

Chapter Two: Room 304

Chapter Three: I Know Who Did It

Chapter Four: Swimming Pool Kisses

Chapter Five: Ninety-Nine Percent

Glitter & Crimson:

Glitter and Crimson

Reader is keeping a secret from the rest of the team and they're adamant to find out. When they do, they're absolutely gobsmacked. One of them more than others...

Steady As A Drumbeat

And that ends in a night neither of them will ever forget.

A Little Less Conversation

+ The Aftermath

ONE SHOTS / IMAGINES

Memoriam

Season 4 Episode 7 rewrite -- Spencer's childhood best friend helps him on the Riley Jenkins case. Working together after years of not seeing each other brings up old memories and new feelings.

Do Re Mi

Spencer's next-door-neighbor comes into the BAU, distressed, saying that her ex-boyfriend was the person responsible for the recent string of kills happening in D.C.

Truly Madly Deeply

Spencer comes home from a case and wakes up next to reader. Inspired by One Direction's 'Truly Madly Deeply'.

Johnny and Dora

Spencer and Reader go undercover together to catch the most prolific identity thief in New York. What happens on the case might spark a shift in their relationship. Inspired by the Brooklyn 9-9 episode with the same name.

When?

Reader is tired of always coming in second place. Even when her and Spencer have split up, she's still looking over her shoulder as though he'd still be there. When will that end?

When The Girls Talk Boys

Spencer and Reader talk to their friends about one another, which causes their co-workers to find out about their secret relationship. Inspired by Girls Talk Boys by 5SOS.

Nothing is Accidental

After hearing Spencer's talk on a conference, Reader tests her luck and talks to the young Doctor. It sparks a new friendship, partnership and maybe even more. Rewrite of Season 7 Episode 11: True Genius

Dream Away The Dark

Four times where Reader comforts Spencer after a bad dream and one time where Spencer does the same for Reader.

Hunting Monsters

Halloween is Reader's favorite holiday and she plans to implement that love into her child's life, too. When little Poppy tells Reader she doesn't want to go trick-or-treating, Reader and her husband's co-workers help her convince the tiny genius.

I’m Recharging

How Spencer and Reader's ritual of 'recharging' began.

Tongue Tied

Reader is invited to her best friend's birthday party where she meets Dr. Spencer Reid. An instant connection is made.

Meet Me On The Courtyard

Spencer encounters his neighbor from across the yard, dancing around in her apartment until she catches him. They decide to properly meet on the courtyard.

You Owe Me A Date

Spencer and Reader plan to go out on a date. When she doesn't show up, Spencer gets worried.

You Knock The Wind Out Of Me

Spencer clearly dislikes Reader, but when she tries to ask him why, he evades the question. Only her boyfriend being disrespectful towards her forces her to admit his true feelings.

A Man After Midnight

Spencer and Reader are best friends since they were kids. When Reader is set to marry James, Spencer decides to give her the bachelorette party of her dreams. Only he wishes it were him she was about to marry...

Girls Can't Drive

Where a case hits reader a little too hard. Spencer doesn’t get why it’s hitting his girlfriend so hard until she finally tells him how hard it is to be a woman sometimes.

Annotations

Spencer finds a book in the breakroom one time and when he starts reading it, he noticed the notes in the margins. What quickly develops as a love written in the margins of several books, might have to step out into the real world soon.

King of My Heart

Spencer has always taken care of reader. Whether it was giving reader food before they realized they were hungry or buying them coffee, ... Tiny gestures that made it impossible for reader not to fall in love with him.

This Love Is Ours

Reader and Spencer are best friends with obvious feelings for one another. When Spencer ends up in prison, Reader gets angry at him, which keeps them from visiting him. But once she does, there's no pane of glass that would keep them apart.

Mine (Spencer's version)

Spencer reminisces about the first time he met Reader.

New Romantics

After a bad breakup, Reader and her friends go out to party where she meets one young FBI agent. Suddenly, she'd forgotten her ex even existed and was more interested in getting to know the stranger.

I Can See You

When Penelope's best friend comes to help out the BAU on a couple of cases, there's an immediate connection with the youngest of the team. After longing glances, soft touches and wild fantasies, the truth comes out accidentally. What is the resident genius going to do with that information?

There's A 100% Chance I'm Gonna Marry You

The team doesn’t even know of her existence but when Spencer can’t get a hold of her, he gets worried. Now he has no other choice than to tell his coworker about her.

I Think He Knows

JJ invites her best friend, a linguistics professor, to help out on a couple of cases. When she and Spencer work together, something sparks between them.

Maybe We'll Take Some Time

Spencer and Reader broke up five weeks ago. When he comes knocking on her door, crying about a friend's death, their love is resparked.

HANDS

Spencer's hands are lovely and as he placed them on Reader's cheeks, it was the only way to calm her down. So, when Reader comes home breaking down after a difficult day at work, he's quick to calm her down.

The Stranger

Spencer and Reader are coworkers and best friends. When Reader gets hurt on a case, Spencer's feelings for Reader are bared.

Floored Decisions

Many decisions were made on the floor of their apartment. One day, she asks him a very important question.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jason gideon #jj #jennifer jareau #elle greenaway #emily prentiss #david rossi #penelope garcia #fanfiction #nele's masterlist

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neobomb · 6 months

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give into things i (dont) want to [lee jeno]

(yandere ish) creep/stalker! popular fuckboy/badboy!jeno x christian!reader, hints of shy boy! (kinda dumb) naive! christian!mark x reader. Part of the give into things i (dont) want to series. Warnings: mature themes, toxic behaviour, manipulation, stalking, forcing??, inappropriate behaviour, choking, menstions of perv behaviour, MDNI, there will be smut in part 2 Word Count: 2.3k Summary: Jeno is on a mission: to assist his friend Mark in getting with you. But is he genuinely helping Mark or leading him down a questionable path? © 2023 @neobomb. Unauthorized copying, translation, manipulation, or alteration of this work is strictly prohibited. All rights reserved.

“Would you really do that for me?” Mark's eyes sparkle with hope. The excitement bubbling within him was palpable, but Jeno knew he had to temper it. For the longest time, Mark has had a crush on you, yet never mustered the courage to approach you. It was heart-wrenching to see, truly pathetic.

“Don’t worry, you can trust me.” Jeno assures with unwavering confidence. “She will be head over heels for you if you just do as I say.”

Mark is overly trusting to believe that Jeno, of all people, will help him get with you. You, L/N Y/N, the one Jeno has been hopelessly in love with over the years, the one who captured the heart of THE fuckboy Lee Jeno. Jeno's deep feelings for you are something he'll never confess. He's vowed to himself to admire you from a distance, never allowing himself to get close. Jeno understood his nature, believing that a pure, innocent soul like you shouldn't be entangled with a bad boy like him. However, that doesn't mean he'll let anyone else get near you, especially not Mark.

“I trust you, Jeno. You’re the rizz king after all.” Indeed, Jeno had been with more girls than most guys his age. With his captivating looks, undeniable charisma, and seasoned charm, he can enchant just about anyone he desires. Flirting was second nature to him. For Jeno, it was not just about the sex; it was a way to establish himself as the school's most sought-after boy. A simple power move.

“I’m just… a bit uncomfortable with some of your suggestions.” Mark says, sounding skeptical as he scratches his head. “It just seems a bit… odd… maybe creepy even.”

“I promise you, girls love that shit.” Jeno takes a step closer to the clueless boy. “Haven’t you read Twilight and all those cliché romance novels that girls love? Girls are fucked up enough to eat that shit up.”

"You're right." Mark concedes, deciding to place his trust in Jeno. After all, Jeno has no reason to lead him astray, does he?

"Let's do it then," Jeno says, extending his hand towards Mark for a handshake, to which Mark readily reciprocates with a firm handshake.

The deal has been sealed. Jeno has Mark right where he wants him. Mark was just dumb and naive enough to believe the bullshit Jeno has been telling him.

—

A handwritten note was attached to the string of the bouquet with tape.

Dear Y/N, Not a day goes by that you don't cross my mind. Your lover, lee.

It began innocently enough – with sweet intentions and harmless beginnings.

Then there were the photographs — snapshots capturing moments in your bedroom, some pictures intimate, others harmless.

new message from lover lee: new image has been sent

Then, items began to vanish — your favorite cherry-flavored chapstick, your bra and your panties were the first to go.

What started innocently has now morphed into something more ominous.

In your room, a place that is supposed to be your safe haven. An unsettling feeling grips you—a paranoia over who might be watching. A faceless someone, so infatuated that they'd shadow your every move. You find yourself overly aware of your surroundings, constantly casting a discreet glance over your shoulder, wishing for no one to be standing right behind you. Thankfully, it is clear. It always was.

It's become so unnerving that sleep eludes you. Night after night, you retreat to the corner of your room, ensuring every window is securely fastened, window blinds down, your gaze fixed intently on the doorway that separates your sanctuary from the main hallway. Clasping your cross necklace close to your heart, you'd whisper prayers, hoping fervently that no one lurked nearby. It had become a routine at this point.

–

The bell chimed resonantly through the corridors. Finally, a reprieve from these tedious classes, Jeno mused. He strides down the hallway, eyes darting to the windows of each classroom, searching for a glimpse of you.

There you are, seated at a desk away from the windows, with sun rays casting a gentle glow on your delicate cheek while you hold a book. To him, you are the epitome of beauty, with an innocence in your eyes that captivates as you survey your surroundings. You appear deeply fatigued, as though you haven't had a moment's rest in the past month.

“Y/N, I’ve noticed that you look very tired lately. Is everything ok?” Lifting your gaze from your desk, you find Jeno looking at you with evident concern.

"Uh, yeah, I'm okay. Just some trouble sleeping," you reply, your voice carrying a hint of surprise at the sudden attention from Jeno, the school's renowned handsome bad boy. You rack your brain, realizing you haven't actually spoken to him since preschool days.

"Hey, Y/N," Mark says, appearing behind you with a wide smile that briefly startles you. "I noticed you at church last Sunday. I didn't want to intrude… you seemed deeply engaged in prayer…. as one should be..." Mark winces slightly at his own awkwardness. Your presence has a way of making him momentarily lose his grasp on social cues.

“Anyways…” Mark casts a meaningful glance at Jeno, hinting that he should give the two of you some space. “I’ve been wanting to ask you… if… you might want to… maybe… go… uhm…. I’ve been wanting to tell you something and it’s very important.”

“Uhm… ok” you respond in a confused tone, looking back at Jeno. “I want to do it somewhere, preferably more private… uhm… maybe dinner at Kun’s… this evening…” Mark stumbles over his words, stuttering through the simple sentences.

"Are you asking me out on a date?" you clarify, boiling his words down to their clear intent. “Yes…” the shy boy confirms.

Mark is undeniably cute — a devoted Christian, diligent, yet reserved. You have always had a little crush on Mark, but you never anticipated that he would make a move. The realm of dating had always seemed uneventful to you; you felt as if you were invisible to boys. But not until this very moment. Going out with Mark couldn't be harmful, could it? At the very least, it might provide a welcome distraction from your current stalker situation.

“Yes, I would love to.” you answer with a radiant smile, sending the timid boy into cloud nine.

Mission one complete. And so Mark thought…

–

On this typical Friday evening, the restaurant buzzed with activity, patrons streaming in and out. Amidst the bustle, you notice Mark seated at a table tucked away from the main dining area.

"Hi there," he greets, rising to envelop you in a friendly hug. "I got here a bit early and took the liberty of ordering for us — Peking roasted duck… I hope that's alright… it's your favorite from the menu." His remark piques your curiosity. It's oddly specific knowledge for him to have. You have barely talked to Mark. How did he know your preferred dish? Strange.

"Please, have a seat," he offers, pulling out the chair for you. With a moment of hesitation, you take the offered seat.

“I’m curious about what you’ve been wanting to tell me. Seems like you were very eager to spill it out.” Perhaps it was premature to confront him, but your curiosity was too strong to resist. But with your question, you can almost feel Mark's panic. His hands tremble slightly as he opens his can of soda.

He inhales deeply, steadying himself before he responds to your question: “I have to confess something. Uhm… I wanted to … uhm tell you … that I’m … lee, your lover”

You stare at him in stunned horror, mustering all your composure to prevent yourself from trembling with fear and revulsion. The revelation hits you like a thunderclap — Mark Lee, the same person sitting across from you, is the stalker who has been haunting your nights with fear.

“I can’t fucking believe it. You scared me shitless.” You immediately rise from your seat, getting yourself ready to leave the restaurant.

“What do you mean?” Mark says in a confused tone.

“The letters, flowers, …. the creepy text messages, … the photos of me in my room, … my fucking missing underwear, constantly feel like I’m being followed, it’s all you??” Struggling to keep your voice level, the sense of betrayal washing over you was unparalleled.

“What?” Mark yelled in question “What do you mean photos?? missing underwear? All I did was send you secret letters.”

“I swear to God it’s not me, Y/N.” Mark pleaded with you, his eyes imploring, begging you to believe him.

“Nothing you say can change what I’ve heard.” You declare, swiftly collecting your belongings before storming out of the restaurant.

It had never crossed your mind that Mark, the quiet, church-going boy who seemed devoted to his faith, could be capable of taking such extreme actions. The revelation seemed surreal, almost too contrived to be true.

—

A few months have passed since the unsettling discovery of Mark's unsettling behavior. Every ounce of your bravery has been summoned just to face him at school each day. Whenever he attempts to draw near, desperately trying to weave a tapestry of excuses, you fend him off with the threat of a restraining order. There's nothing he could say now to sway your resolve.

In the span of those tumultuous weeks, you found solace in Jeno. As the days passed, you and Jeno grew increasingly close, an unforeseen twist given that the popular boy had seemingly never noticed you before — or so it had seemed. But his kindness and understanding provided comfort, especially when others doubted your account of events.

"Thanks for walking me home from church, Jeno. You really don’t have to do it again. I promise you this will be the first and last time." you say, casting a wary glance at Mark, who lingers near the church entrance. Having Jeno's company is a source of comfort amidst the chaos, even if your home is just a two-minute stroll from the church.

"Of course, it's the least I can do to ensure you feel secure." Jeno says, casually draping an arm around your shoulders while guiding his bike with his free hand. His steps seem confident, almost familiar with the path to your home, despite the fact that in all the years of your acquaintance, he has never once been at your house, or even close to it. You try to dismiss the peculiar sense that he knows the way a little too well, reminding yourself that he's never been invited over, but the thought lingers, troubling in its implications. Strange, you thought.

Just as you near your house, the skies open up, unleashing a sudden downpour. You urge Jeno to come inside, suggesting he wait out the torrential rain before he ventures back home. To pass the time and since Jeno had never been to your place before, you decided to give him a tour.

"Oh here is your favorite place to sit and read" remarks Jeno, his tone carrying a hint of familiarity as he observes the cozy corner of your living room. How did he know it was your favorite reading spot? His ease within your home is uncanny, almost as if he's retracing well-known steps rather than discovering them for the first time, inadvertently reversing the roles of guest and guide. Strange.

The final stop of the tour is your room. Pointing to a large photo album, you say, "Here are snapshots from my childhood," and you flip it open to share a visual journey through your past. You point to a cherished childhood photograph, depicting a younger you, grinning with abandon, your face comically smeared with Peking duck sauce, as you gleefully twirl noodles around your chopsticks.

“Oh you looked so adorable while eating peking roasted duck. Must have been your favorite dish for quite some time. I guess some things never change.” He smiles at a particular photograph of you. It was a response that strikes you as odd. You hadn't mentioned your favorite dish to him before. Strange.

“How did you know about my favorite dish? I’m pretty sure I haven’t told you about it.” you query, attempting to piece together the perplexing puzzle that has been preoccupying your thoughts. Upon hearing your question, a shadow flickers across Jeno's features, replacing the cheerful, lively demeanor of moments ago with something more somber. The spark in his eyes dims, giving way to a serious, almost foreboding intensity.

“What do you mean?” He inquires, his lips curling into an uneasy, almost disconcerting smirk.

“I… I just think you’re acting a bit… uhm… strange. It’s the first time you’ve ever walked me home, and you seem oddly familiar with the area I live in…. and you seem to know my house like you've already been here before … uhm … and you pick up on these small things I haven’t told you about before.” As you address his odd demeanor, a growing sense of regret takes hold with each passing second; his eyes darken, casting a shadow of menace that chills you to the bone.

In that instance, Jeno aggressively pins you down onto your bed. One hand holding your wrist, the other at your throat.

“You know too much, Y/N. You should’ve just kept your pretty little mouth shut.” He whispers in your ear before tightening his grip around your neck until you are no longer registering his words. His voice faded into a muffled echo as your thoughts withdrew into a separate reality. Your hands clutch at his wrist, attempting to loosen his hold, while your eyes nearly close from the sheer force of the moment. His grip on your neck slackened, and he watched as you sucked in breath, your complexion regaining its normal hue as vitality slowly reclaimed your shaken form. As you caught your breath, Jeno abruptly pressed his lips against yours. The fervor of the kiss was overwhelming. Saying hello to lee, you did.

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