#Quit romanticizing the grind and romanticize whatever this is | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

samwrights · 4 years ago

Text

When You Wake

I literally cannot believe I wrote this. This was originally started to celebrate Yaku’s birthday (happy belated, my love), and to satisfy the requests for a Noya/Yaku threesome. Uh, don’t come for me. I couldn’t find inspiration in the normal hq world, so we’re making it weird. If y’all thought Between the Lines was long, this monstrosity is 13.2k words. 13,200 words, with a shameful, side amount that is smut. Literally, this is all just plot.

ear candy list is, surprisingly, on the smaller side.

⤞ Revenga - System of A Down ⤞ Violent Pornography - System of A Down ⤞ Question! - System of A Down

pairing: Yaku/Reader/Noya

w a r n i n g s//TW: rape, murder, blood consumption, mentions of getting roofied, gore, blood from wounds, supernatural AU, revenge, temporarily mute reader, reader is converted to a vampire without consent, dubcon, death, spitroasting, dirty talk, senpai kink. PLEASE read through these warnings over and over until it is clear to you that this is not going to be an easy read. The reader literally goes on a revenge spree. ⤞ THIS. IS NOT. AN EASY. READ.

Now that you have been thoroughly warned, enjoy.

The way media and films and television glorified and romanticized college parties never could have prepared you for the fateful encounter in the alleyway on a muggy August evening. Primarily, college parties were depicted as fun—drunk nights on the weekends with your girlfriends, maybe hook up with that cute boy from chemistry that somehow ended up with you grinding on him on the dance floor. Though, in some genres, college parties end up with the protagonist roofied and raped and follows how the heroine spirals and recovers. But it only was supposed to happen in the movies, right?

It wasn’t supposed to end with you halfway to death, knocking on Hell’s door with blood pooling around your lifeless body in a barely lit, bleak alleyway. It wasn’t supposed to end with warbles of light fading in and out of your vision as cars passed you by, unknowing there was someone in the alleyway between a closed down butcher shop and a florist who had already gone home for the evening. You were only in your early twenties with only two more years of university to compete—it wasn’t supposed to end yet.

“We can’t just leave her here.”

“I think she’s too far gone, Yaku. We were too late.”

The voices swirling around you were unfamiliar, or at least from what you could gather. In your condition, it was impossible to discern them in the first place—were they even real voices? They sounded entirely too angelic from what you could process in your catatonic state. Maybe they weren’t; maybe death had taken you without your knowledge and the jury that decided whether or not your soul would ascend to heaven was passing their judgment on you.

“I can save her, Noya.” One of the voices, presumably this Yaku character snarls back with urgency. It is the last thing you hear before your limp body is pulled from the concrete. The movement, regardless of how delicate, causing more blood to rush from your open wounds and draining any ounce of consciousness from your mind. “You mind trying to collect the fallout?”

Nishinoya, though shaking his head, gives a subtle grin that cannot be seen in the dead of the night. He pulls out a large mason jar from the satchel he’s carrying and places the mouth of the jar where blood is pouring out profusely from a knife wound. The man collecting the blood knew entirely too well that once his mate sets his mind to something, there was no changing it. Not that it served as a recurring issue; if anything, Noya was grateful for Yaku’s stubbornness considering it was that exact trait of his that had given the former his second chance at life.

The two of them move swiftly, trying to make it back to their hidden mansion, that was quite a distance away, in secret. Yaku is doing all that he can to make sure not to disturb your body so as not to open any wounds further that could force you to bleed out and meet the grim reaper. He wasn’t a very pleasant creature, but that was a story for another day. At the same time, Nishinoya is almost fighting to keep the same steadfast pace while simultaneously holding the now half full mason jar just under the knife wound. The blood was beginning to thicken, turning from bright red to a deep crimson as it oxidizes.

The moment they enter their private garden, Nishinoya busts down the door to their home with expertise, alerting the other members of their clan. “Akaashi!” He screeches, his voice bellowing out in decibels that should not be used unless trying to project a voice in an amphitheater with no microphone. Thank omniscient beings for noise cancelling enchantments. “We need you!” An almost timid, young looking man enters the foyer where Noya is still collecting blood and Yaku is holding your limp body in his arms.

“So that’s where you two have been,” Akaashi deadpans, unfazed by the steadily decaying girl. “Bring her to my room. You can store what blood you’ve gathered there while I remove the knife and get her patched up.” Though calm, the three of them move at breakneck speeds, laying you face down on an operating table while Akaashi suits up. From what he can tell, this was going to be a real mess, considering how deep the knife is. The three of them knew what was to come and what their designated roles in this moment were—Nishinoya was to separate the blood he had gathered from your body and ration them into IV bags, while Yaku was provide suction in case of a bleed out.

“We can save her, can’t we?” Yaku asks quietly, tools in hand.

“That will depend on her will to fight,” Akaashi says quietly, half due to concentration, half because he genuinely does not have a valid answer. “You’ve done this time and time again, Yaku. If anyone is going to save her, it’s going to be you.”

Upon coming to, the only muscles in your body that can move are your eyelids. Peeling them back as much as you can muster, you notice the only light filtering into whatever room you are currently residing in is coming from the blaring moonlight through an open window. The shadows around you make up areas and shapes that you are entirely unfamiliar with, causing you to sit up impulsively to make sense of your surroundings. A mistake on your part, as you are immediately met with a searing pain in your ribs. With further inspection from your droopy eyes, you learn that your torso is entirely bare, save for the copious amounts of medical grade bandages and gauze around your breasts and stomach. Blood pooled somewhere along your left shoulder blade where the pain felt the worst.

“You shouldn’t try to sit up right now.” The same voice you faintly remember from the alley, the one that didn’t want to leave you, before blacking out calls out from across the bedroom. The room is quite large from what you could tell and his smooth voice seems to be leagues away. “Lay back down before you bleed out again—I’ll change your bandages.” From the shadows, a man whom you presume to be Yaku emerges before you, perfect pale skin and sandy brown locks nearly reflecting in the moonlight as he approaches. His face, while incredibly handsome, is blank and is strictly business as he saunters near. Even as he is gingerly tearing off the tight bindings around you with next to no effort, his face remains nonplussed. Even as he washes the dried, crusty blackened blood off your bare chest, nothing. “Do you remember anything?” Yaku’s voice is quiet and somber as he asks his question. He takes your silence as a no.

Your mind is a hazy smog, trying to recall any type of memory at all. Rather than actual imagery, you see a white light when you close your eyes—you see colors you don’t remember seeing before, you hear crying. You hear your name. Not just your first name or a nickname either, you hear your entire given name along with your birthday, even the time of birth.

Any attempt to recall memories is interrupted by a sharp pain. You suck in a breath as Yaku tries to lift your arm to wrap the fresh bandages around your torso, causing him to grimace ever so slightly. This task was a bit easier for him when you were still unconscious, but nonetheless he is glad you’re awake. When the pain subsides, you peel your eyelids back once again, staring at the man sitting at the edge of the bed in wonder. Why was he tending to your wounds? How did he fit into the story? “You needn’t worry about that right now, [name],” he murmurs quietly, reintroducing the same delicate tone you heard before blacking out in the alley. Yaku can tell you’re wondering how he knew what to respond with and how he knew your name but, after a small deliberation, he decides it’s best not to overwhelm you right now. “Get some rest, little one,” he speaks again, “I’ll be here when you wake.” Before you know it, you’re out like a light once again.

Yaku exits his and Noya’s shared bedroom to dispose of the sullied bandages, only to be greeted to the sight of his mate leaning against the bannister closest to their room. “How’s she doing?” Yaku’s lips tighten, the seam becoming a hard line as his grimace deepens.

“She doesn’t remember anything but when I asked her if she did...”

“What?” Noya presses, perturbed at the silence. Very few things in their lives rendered Yaku speechless.

“She started seeing memories of her birth.” The two shorter leaders of the clan meander their way down the grandiose staircase in silence, each step accompanied by the dramatic chimes of a grand piano coming from the foyer. The music stops when they reach the bottom of the staircase, Sugawara pausing his fingers and quirking a brow at the couple. It was a rare occurrence to see both of them, or Nishinoya in the very least, look so morose.

“What’s got you guys looking so down? You look like someone just died.” The musician muses. Sugawara Koushi always did have the most twisted sense of humor—that was partially the reason that Yaku had kept him around. The other primary reason was solely for bragging rights and an inside joke between the clan because no matter how many times Sugawara introduced himself as Beethoven or Bach, people assumed that they all just meant he was talented. Not that it was literal and Sugawara was just a name he’d adopted when he earned another century of life.

“Ha ha,” Nishinoya drawls satirically, for both himself and for Yaku. The latter excuses himself, parting ways because he knows he can’t handle conversation right now. “Come on, Suga, that’s not funny. Yaku’s already taking this really hard and if we lose her...”

“Humans die all the time, Nishi. A conversion isn’t a guaranteed shot at a second life and Yaku knows that so why is he—“

“Because she was found just like I was. Wrong place at the wrong time and it ended with...” the shorter of the two can no longer find the words to speak. It didn’t matter how many centuries old everyone in the clan was, it didn’t matter that they had watched plagues take countless lives or even bared witness to some of Jack the Ripper’s victims—it was a different monster entirely to genuinely watch a person become prey to another human. “I hope she makes it through, if only to rip out the guys throat that stabbed her.”

Three months had passed since you had first woken up. Strength is returning to you little by little, though not enough for you to hold consciousness for more than a few minutes a day. Regardless, Yaku is relieved to see you making some form of progress, to see that you’re somewhat handling the conversion well. The head of the clan was almost always present when you did awake, though there were instances in which his partner, Nishinoya, had been the one to greet you.

Nishinoya was much more boisterous than his other half—much more talkative and, considering you haven’t found the strength to speak quite yet, that was entirely okay with you. You learned that Yaku and Nishinoya had been together a very long time and Yaku had saved his life ages ago, as the latter phrased it. In admiration, Noya mentions his partner’s abundance of patience—a skill that he himself lacked—and determination to see justice being served had swayed the younger of the two to continuously stand alongside him. Through these little vignettes of their life, however, Noya makes it a point to acknowledge the fact that he was once almost too overbearing for his senior, often intimidating him with just how open and blunt he was. “Nishi, are you boring her with details of our mundane life?” Yaku asks bemusedly as he enters the room you’d been resting in.

“Hey, we aren’t boring. I’m not boring you, am I?” Noya looks to your face, your expression not giving much away save for the light in your barely live eyes. It was far from mundane—if anything, hearing the stories made you so curious considering from just barely glancing with the two, they seemed to be a strange couple.

“We are,” Yaku confirms, though as to what, you aren’t sure. You were certain you hadn’t said anything aloud, considering you practically can’t. “Let’s just say I can hear your thoughts. It’s how we’ve been communicating with you.” The head of clan saunters over casually, sitting at the edge of the mattress opposite to his partner. Both of their rich, golden irises are gazing at you, gauging a reaction from you as he shares this bit of information. Weird, was the only way for you to describe it. Though Yaku didn’t need to read your mind to know that; the slightly panicked look on your face gave away your thoughts.

“Don’t think we don’t know about those vivid wet dreams you have of us—“

“Yū, you weren’t supposed to tell her that!”

“What? We’re all adults here—“

“Nishi, get out,” Yaku covers his face in utter horror, even more so as his partner exits the room laughing as he does so. Shameless Noya. The door closes, leaving you and Yaku alone—were he able to go red out of embarrassment, he probably would have. “I-I am so sorry about him.” Testing out the information that the man beside you supplied moments ago, you reassure him that it’s fine—that you have no control over your dreams and that he probably doesn’t have a way to turn off this strange ability. For a moment, he’s relieved because you seem to be accepting everything with grace thus far; maybe telling you the truth wasn’t going to be the worst case scenario.

But the thought of the truth makes Yaku hesitate—there was no way you were ready to handle the entirety of the truth. At the moment, you could barely handle your weekly check-ups with Akaashi—the household doctor. After a formal introduction, you learned that Akaashi was the one who patched up your wounds when you were first brought to the little mansion. From what you gathered, he was quiet and direct, kind even, but you hated the weekly visits. Not only was Yaku carrying you rather painful, as you’re still recovering from your injuries, but Akaashi had to do regular blood transfusions because, according to the young doctor that you swore could not have already completed medical school and residency, you had lost a lot of blood during the incident.

An incident in which you still can’t recall.

“It’ll come to you,” Yaku says morosely, probably responding in accordance to your thought. The man beside you gets up from the bed, holding his arms open to you, silently asking for permission to pick you up. “Sorry, I’ll try to be more gentle.” His arms are cold as he lifts you up, but all you can focus on is the throbbing in your back as he moves you. A sharp intake of breath leaves your lungs as Yaku supports you physically, adding gentle words of encouragement because he can almost feel how much pain you’re in. Every step down the steep staircase adds another metaphorical bruise to your tender skin, a small groan leaving your throat each time. And while you’re not uncomfortable with the idea of being in Yaku’s arms, you’re grateful when you’re laid down in Akaashi’s office along the leather exam seat.

“How are you feeling today, [name]?” The young doctor asks as he preps you for your blood transfusion. Much to your surprise, you feel hungry—ravenous, even—like you hadn’t eaten a meal in months. Maybe you hadn’t; it wouldn’t be that ridiculous to consider since your memory was a little shoddy.

“You’ll feel better after the transfusion,” Yaku reassures from the chair he’s sitting in beside the exam bed, “we’ll get some food in your system before we start your physical therapy.” There’s an interesting intonation in the way he speaks this, you notice. Like there’s an underlying joke or hidden agenda that you don’t quite understand, but at the same time, the strange phrasing doesn’t trigger your fight-or-flight system in any capacity. If anything, it just seems that Yaku wants to help you regain strength as best you can.

Though, that was currently proving to be a challenge as well. While you weren’t entirely sure how long ago your injuries occurred, you knew a decent amount of time had to have passed. One of your first check-up appointments with Akaashi led to the explanation of the muscle atrophy in your legs from lack of use. Once you slowly became acclimated to being awake for more than just a few minutes a day, Daichi was introduced to you as your physical therapist. He was another enigma—entirely too young to be as experienced as he was in his field, but you decided against questioning it—temporarily mute or not.

Being mute was another issue that was taking much longer than you liked. You hated only being able to communicate through Yaku’s inexplicable talent of being able to read your mind. There were many occasions in which you wanted to ask Akaashi about your condition and how bad of a state you had been brought to him in; how you wanted to ask Sugawara how he’d learned to play such a vast variety of melodies so expertly; how you wanted to tell Nishinoya that every time he tried to feed you a soup or something, it tasted foul and metallic no matter how fresh it was.

You’d have to wait until you found your voice again.

After your check-in with Akaashi, Yaku brings you to Daichi’s office just down the hallway. “Hey, there’s our little fighter.” Daichi was probably the kindest out of everyone in the household. He had a warmth to him that seemed to contrast his icy fingers when he’d hold and guide you for your therapy sessions—a little uncanny that everyone in this mansion had freezing finger tips. Maybe everyone had poor blood circulation?

From the opposite end of the room, Yaku stifles a laugh by biting his cheek. Glad to know that your deconstructed concept of time hadn’t waned on your sense of humor. Meanwhile, Daichi lays you gingerly on a mat on the ground with you back flat as he wraps a resistance band around one of his ankles, as well as your own. “Alright, [name], I’m gonna help you get your leg up and I want to see you pull your leg up as high as you can go, understood?” Five didn’t seem like a very large number, but for now it was the goal. If you could at least lift your legs five times, it was progress considering the severe muscle atrophy in your legs.

Some days, it was difficult for Yaku to sit with you through therapy. He can see the way you wince in pain because you’re trying to relearn and rebuild your muscle groups; other times he just wanted someone, anyone, to blurt out the truth about the situation and hope that it inspires you to push yourself to heal. Some days, it was difficult because Yaku found himself just wanting to hold you in his bed that you’d taken over while the two of you plot out the revenge you didn’t even know you needed. But it wasn’t always bad. There were days, like today, where the progress on your therapy was going much better than anyone in the clan anticipated. There were days where Yaku would ask what you remembered about...anything, and you would have some form of answer for him.

On those days, Yaku began to realize that your memories were coming in chronological order. From the first time you sat up or crawled, to your first word even. In fact, Yaku’s favorite moment that he’s witnessed thus far was watching your father teach you to take your very first steps—it seemed to recur during your therapy sessions, as if subconsciously encouraging you to try to walk again. Maybe that’s why today, you were able to provide Daichi with double the repetitions that he asked for—a sure sign that strength and muscle were returning to your legs. But even with what progress you’ve made so far, Yaku makes it a point to carry you back to your room and lay you back in bed to rest. As always, Yaku tucked you in as he spoke, “get some sleep, little one. I’ll be here when you wake,”

For weeks on end, dreams stop becoming dreams. Per usual, Yaku awaits in the corner opposite of the bed where you rest, allowing your memories-turned-dreams to flood his mind. Each night, they’re progressively becoming more and more clear—you’re able to recall outfits that you’d worn twenty years ago with perfect detail, scars and scrapes that your friends had, even when that one sock was in the corner of your closet from when you were seven. But the clearer these chronological dreams became, the less frequently you were waking up and it was beginning to worry the head of the clan. While you were still obtaining your weekly blood transfusions to help sustain your life, it seemed to be that they were no longer providing you with enough energy to move past your current stage of recovery. “Yaku, she needs to start feeding,” Akaashi had instructed him during a consultation.

“I still haven’t told her—“

“Come on, man, it’s been almost eight months,” the house doctor groans. There was no reason to coddle you anymore as your life-threatening wounds had already healed for the most part. Sure, there was still discomfort from your broken ribs but even those had almost entirely healed over; your physical therapy sessions and rehabilitation with Daichi were going rather well but, at this point, if you didn’t start getting more substance in your body, this would be the end of the line for you. Akaashi had advised him this for weeks now, but Yaku still hesitated. “We’ve got to tell her.”

“I know, I know. I just—“ the sandy brunette ruffles his claws through his mussed locks in frustration, “I think her power is developing. And I’m afraid if we drop the bomb on her now, it’s going to halt or hinder that progress.”

“Either tell her or feed her,” Akaashi bites, “if you don’t, she’s not going to have any power because she’s going to starve to death.” With that, Akaashi walks away because he has nothing left to argue at this point. While he may be the youngest of the brood, this made Akaashi the most volatile of the group. More often than not, he was relatively kind and patient, timid even, as he was in his human life, but also very stern and strict—all of it coming from a place of love. And Yaku, knowing the tremendous amounts of emotional pain that the former had received, the leader of the clan dare not disrespect him.

Rather than making it an argument, Yaku roams around the lodge to grab a couple bags of O negative out of storage before heading back to his room. Much to his surprise, Nishinoya is sitting at the edge of the bed already, a slight look of panic washing over his features. “Yaku, I think something is wrong.” Without another word, the creature in question hands the bags of blood to his mate before resting his forehead against yours—a sure fire way to make sure that the mental images he picked up from you were pristine and uninterrupted as you dreamed—ignoring the cold sweat beading on your forehead.

You were at the Pike house. It was the first week of the new college semester and your roommates had convinced you to tag along to a frat party they were invited to. The night was going along exactly like a corny romantic comedy—you had locked eyes with a man from across the dance floor. He was sweet—much kinder than others you had met that night. He grabbed you drink after drink, but your memory begins to go fuzzy after that despite being able to recall memories of your own birth or the stupid girl that picked on you when you were twelve and even the small pimple on her temple that you figured was probably making her insecure. So if you were able to recall these memories, dreams, whatever they were, with such perfect clarity, why could you not remember leaving that party? Did that mean he had been drugging your drinks? It was entirely possible, considering Pike wasn’t exactly known for their hospitality. You vaguely remember the man holding your hand firmly as the two of you weave and bob around people and being met with the sweltering humidity of a muggy August night and your roommates, Yukie and Kaori, were nowhere to be found.

You were dragged into a dimly lit alleyway, stumbling with every step that the man had nearly carried you by your wrist alone, reeking of trash that had been long overdue for pick up and maybe even rotting carcasses. It was difficult to tell considering the drugs you assume that had been placed in your system and it was even more difficult to recall the memories. Bits and pieces of your memory were coming back in patches—though the face of the man that had brought you there was not one of them. Nor were any of his friends that had joined in, appearing at the opening of the alleyway. You remember the sound of tearing fabric, salacious laughter of the group of men surrounding your body. You remember feeling searing pain as one held a knife to your throat, warning you that he would slit your throat if you tried to scream.

The threat was replaced in the form of one of the frat boys ramming a half-hard cock down your throat, knife still in place along the jugular vein, while every orifice and inch of your skin had been violated. Vaguely, you remember trying to bite down on the cock in your mouth and run away. The one that threatened to kill you had missed your throat when you ran and threw the knife into your back instead. Foul screeches of demeaning slander left their mouths as they kicked your ribs in at full force, as if the knife deep in your back wasn’t bad enough.

You remember them leaving your bare, naked body in the alley for death to take you.

You remember their faces.

Awakening with a start, you sit up abruptly, only to fall back into the pillow with a resonant clacking noise followed by a dull throb to your forehead. Yaku recoils, mostly out of shock rather than pain—maybe laying his head on yours wasn’t his finest moment. “You remember,” he balks after he’s recovered from the impact. You’re trying to scream, no sound leaving your lungs while tears barreled out from your eyes. Remember? Why was that a memory? Why did it have to be a memory?

Nishinoya acts hastily, tearing open one of the O negative packs and draining half the contents into his mouth and holding it there as he shoves Yaku out of the way. The smaller of the two slats his lips over your silently screaming mouth, puncturing a small wound to the inside of your lip with his teeth and letting the blood trickle in the hole. It feels like pudding trying to push through a sieve, the flavor of copper and iron tampered out by an earthy, meat flavor—maybe venison? The desire to scream fades away as well, rather being over taken to have whatever nourishment Noya is giving you to enter you more and more. Out of necessity, you mold your lips over his, sucking hard on his lip while wrapping your arms around him because it just didn’t seem that he could get close enough in this moment. Despite the fingers you have threaded in Nishinoya’s gelled locks, he pulls away with a shit-eating grin, his tongue swiping away at the trail of red liquid dripping from the seam of his lips. “Careful, might make a guy a fall in love with that kinda kiss.”

“M-more,” you croak out, deflecting the younger one’s flirty comment all together. Yaku and Noya’s eyes go wide upon hearing your voice for the first time. The former acts on instinct, downing the remaining contents of the bag in his partner’s hand before reenacting the same gesture as the latter. Yaku’s lips are much softer than his partners—or maybe it’s the quelling of whatever hunger that hadn’t been satiated that eased the desire. With Yaku, his tongue laves against the wound that Noya had made, coaxing the fluid to enter at a much more steadfast, intimate pace. Even well after he was done feeding you, Yaku sucked on your tongue, encouraging you to reciprocate, so as to get every drop. “W-What was t-that?” You pant out brokenly as soon as the two of you break apart. The question startles the two sitting at the edge of the bed—now that you had your voice somewhat back, Yaku no longer needed to communicate for you. That also meant he couldn’t control the flow of responses to not overwhelm you.

“I think it’s time you finally got your answers,” Noya mumbles, treading carefully as he looks at his partner. It was a silent reassurance that, no matter how this scenario proceeded, he would be here to support Yaku. To make you more comfortable, he adjusts the pillows behind you so that your back can rest properly along the headboard.

“M-my d-d-dreams?” Having just rediscovered your voice, it still came out in sharp, staccato-like whimpers, but the boys weren’t going to discourage you from speaking. Much like everything else Yaku had done in his life, he had done with patience and your recovery and rehabilitation were no different. But your throat was still raw and it still hurt to speak—thankfully with your mind rushing like a bullet train, Yaku was able to grasp the entirety of your question.

“I think they’re more memories than dreams.” His words come out like a condemning nail in a coffin—like a doctor telling you you only have a few months left to live—because that means everything you recalled from Pike house, the drinks, the party, the alley, all of it was real. “Noya and I found you that night barely clinging to life. Naked, soaked in blood and semen. You died that night, [name].” As he speaks, his cold finger tips traced along your breast until you feel the throbbing mound of flesh—a scar of where the knife had been thrown into you from the back and exited out the front. “The knife had gone through your aorta. Akaashi spent a long time trying to repair it but was unable to.”

Your body begins to tremble as silent sobs wrack through your body. You died? “S-so how ‘mi h-here?” Yaku looks over at Noya in discernible worry—not because the head was afraid of telling the truth, no. He was afraid how you would react to the truth. His partner looks at him poignantly, mentally reminding him that this was eerily similar to how Noya had reacted when he had learned the truth as well. Yaku’s head bobs in agreement, swallowing his hesitance before speaking again.

“I made you like me. Like the rest of us.” Your brows furrowed in confusion, suspicion even, because there’s no way that he’s saying what you think he’s saying. But rather than offering a verbal response, Yaku holds his hand out towards Noya, in which he places the other bag of O Negative in his palm. While the original plan was to just feed you once again, the second Yaku tears open the bag, the hunger you thought had eased returned at full force. You rip the bag out of his cold hands, elongated claws scratched at you as you do so, before you down the contents like a shotgunned beer before you could realize what you were doing.

“T-This is a joke, right?” You balk, voice clear as day due to the strength returning to your body once again from freshly consumed sustenance. But the tensions have gone down significantly, to the point where Noya feels relief and excuses himself to feed, leaving you in Yaku’s solitary care. Once the two of you are left alone, Yaku can only shake his head as he continues to press on with the truth. This had to be a cruel, sick joke. But it wasn’t funny and you certainly weren’t laughing. Yet Yaku had no reason to lie to you and the snack you had just consumed moments ago was meant to serve as a final nail in the metaphorical coffin to make you understand that he was telling the truth.

“We have been alive for centuries—storytellers dubbing our kind as vampires—but originally, we were simply called the Damned.” Yaku proceeds to go through the history, much like he had with all the others before you, because he feels the need to share the truth, needs to tell you that your death isn’t the end of your life but rather the beginning like it had for all those in clan. The most recent addition to the family was Akaashi. He was less than a century old, compared to the others. Akaashi had been tied to a tree and shot repeatedly, only to watch his lover drown to death, who had been tossed into the ocean before shortly before with a thirty pound weight attached to his ankle with his last few breaths. Yaku and Sugawara were the ones to set his nearly lifeless body free with the head of the clan performing Akashi’s conversion. This lead to the newborn to coming back to slaughter the community that decided to his partner needed to die for being a man in love.

Each of their stories was nearly identical. Sugawara, who apparently has been every major known classical musician in history hiding under the guise of his shapeshifter ability, and Daichi were hanged together for being a homosexual couple after their village had carved unsavory words on their bodies to remind their reincarnations of their sins. Yaku and Noya had saved each of them respectively, and allowed the two of them to go on a rampage to annihilate their executioners.

Lastly, or rather firstly, was Nishinoya himself. As Yaku goes into detail about transforming his partner, he tears up ever so slightly. And as you listen actively with no interruptions, no questions even, as he tells you about how Nishi was wrongly imprisoned for theft and how the other prisoners constantly violated and sodomized his body because he was smaller than the rest; how he ended his own life by ingesting whatever toxic chemicals he could find and how Yaku broke him out of prison to start a new life together. “Speak of the devil and he shall appear,” the aforementioned prisoner re-enters the room, a fragile smile on his thin lips as he takes a seat beside his partner. “So you finally told her?”

“B-but why m-me? Why not just let me die?”

“Do you not want revenge against the assholes that killed you a year ago, [ name ]?” Noya bit before Yaku could jump in. “They’re still alive after what they did to you—how is that fair?!”

A year?

You had died a year ago. How did your family take the news? Your roommates and best friends? Nishi was right—it wasn’t fair at all. Yaku raises a hand towards his partner in attempts to get him to calm down before he got too riled up about the situation and before he could get out the most important question. “I have to know, [ name ], if you want to continue on with this lifestyle or not before we proceed with the real rehabilitation.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You tilt your head to your newfound savior. He said it so nonchalantly, as if learning how to walk or learning that your diet was blood wasn’t rehabilitation.

“Well, we have to teach you how to feed properly so your strength gets back up—unless you just want us to feed you for the rest of your eternal life.” Noya jokes, waggling his eyebrows suggestively in what you’ve come to understand is his typical, joking demeanor.

“I mean, I wouldn’t complain.”

“Noya, can you maybe save the flirting for later?” Yaku grits out—once again slightly mortified. It brings laughter to the man in question; it was like rewatching his own life all over again, seeing him get flustered at the smallest amounts of forward affection. It was endearing, if anything.

“Sure. Let’s get [ name ] healthy first then.”

After coming to terms with your transformation and feeding more regularly, still off of a supply stock that the mansion carried, you were able to attend therapy sessions with Daichi more frequently. And while you hadn’t entirely regained muscle or use of your legs, you were able to at least stay awake more often than not. Rather than being cooped up in the bedroom, you found yourself lounging near the entryway where Sugawara would entertain you with the countless pieces he had written over the years. It was soothing and peaceful and Sugawara’s jovial personality kept you from spiraling into a deeper hole knowing that you died. It was still an insane concept, but the five men in your new home had worked hard to keep you sane. “Ready for your session?” Yaku asks gently as he takes a seat beside you on the luxurious sofa. He’s not as uptight as he was now that you knew the truth, though he still did get flustered when you would openly show affection. Even if it was something as simple as leaning your head on his shoulder like you were now.

“I think so,” doing what you could, you scooted and clambered onto Yaku’s lap, wrapping your arms around his neck firmly while your weakened lower limbs splayed across his lap. He tucks one arm under your knees while the other supports your back, effectively scooping you up and brings you to the kitchen where the blood stock is kept. You quirk a brow at the creature carrying you, knowing you’ve already had at least three bags since you woke up.

“Gotta get your strength up so you can recover faster,” is all he responds with before he sets you down on a bar stool. Yaku tears open the bag of O Negative and, much to your shock, he drinks half the contents without swallowing before his lips are on yours. One of his fangs finds purchase on the inside of your lip, sinking down and creating an opening for the blood to flow in for quicker delivery. Usually, Yaku would only have to feed you like this when you were in a weaker state, so it felt a bit out of place for him to be doing it right now, but it certainly wasn’t unwelcome. While the blood trickles into the wound, Yaku’s tongue swirls with yours intimately, coating the cavern with the liquid and he doesn’t stop until every ounce is clear from both of your mouths.

“Not complaining,” you say slowly, “but is there a particular reason you wanted to feed me instead of just letting my chug the bag?” As you ask your question, Yaku is draining the rest of the contents of the bag into his mouth before pulling you towards him in another kiss. The question is repeating over and over in your head, he can hear it loud and clear, but the other thoughts are spurring him on further. The thoughts of how Yaku’s touch makes you crave more, makes you want to feel his lips along your skin and his large hands gripping your thighs tightly. Sometimes he’s unsure whether or not you conveniently forget that he can read your mind, sometimes he wonders if you let your salacious thoughts run wild on purpose. His chest is heaving, deep intakes of breath are plunging through his nostrils despite the blood being long gone. He doesn’t want to stop but centuries of control are begging him to.

“We’re going somewhere today, after your PT,” Yaku pants out after he pulls away, tilting his head down because he can’t look at you right now—he’s afraid to. He needs to try to dampen whatever feral thoughts are running through your brain so that his own self-control doesn’t just get tossed out the window. “Noya and I are taking you out for your first hunt.”

“Uh, am I ready for that?” Shit, you can’t even walk in your own yet. Yaku laughs, grateful for the reprieve from your sexually charged thoughts when you point out the setback.

“That’s why the extra feeding tonight. I needed to make sure it was in your bloodstream so that you had enough strength for PT and the hunt,” Yaku adjusts you from barstool, scooping you into his arms once again to bring you to the mansion’s back garden. Daichi is standing a short distance away adorning a tight muscle tee and joggers, while Noya and Akaashi are sitting at the small table with cigars in hand. Yaku steadies you in front of Daichi, the latter holding onto your hands to make sure you don’t fall, before the former joins the rest the clan at the table. Sugawara emerges from inside the mansion as well, passing off a cigar to Yaku while lighting his own. It was uncomfortable in some capacity to have everybody watching—you couldn’t help but feel as if you were being critiqued on your performance.

“I’m going to be one step ahead of you, and I won’t let go, okay?” Daichi holds his arms out to give you space to take your first step. You take in a sharp breath, the scent of scent of cigars and pine trees overwhelming your nasal cavity. When did you sense of smell become that strong? With trembling limbs, you cling onto Daichi’s muscular forearms, praying to god you didn’t fall as you took a step forward.

“Hey, look!” Noya cheers from a distance, nudging Yaku in the stomach. “She took a step!” The excitement in his voice was evident because, after months of constant aid, Noya has come to have a soft spot for you almost as much as Yaku does. The two of them are watching, utterly enthralled with the way you’re only moving mere millimeters—but millimeters is better than nothing considering the muscle decay and atrophy that had taken place over the last year.

After the first few steps and curling your toes in blades of grass, your feet begin to relax as you tremble forward. Gripping Daichi with all the strength in your hands, you pick your right foot off the ground and place it forward. “That’s good, [ name ]! Gimme one more,” Daichi, a therapist in more ways than one, encourages you to continue moving, wanting to make sure both legs were receiving equal treatment. You repeat the motion with your left leg, taking two full steps. While not perfect, you kept moving forward with his guidance until his calves hit the stone wall of the garden fountain. Considering where you started, twenty five feet was a tremendous distance to cover. “You did amazing, [ name ].” The vampire holding onto you smiles big, pride swelling in chest like a father praising his daughter for taking first in a beauty pageant.

Yaku and Noya are by your side immediately in celebration, the latter much more overt with it as he’s hugging you and holding you up. “What do you think, Daichi? Is she strong enough to at least witness a hunt?” The former asks. Mentioning the “H” word again perks your ears up because a part of you almost wishes to not have to engage with whatever a hunt entails, but part of you also knows that this is your life now. Everything you thought you knew was no longer valid—this was your rebirth, your awakening.

“I think she’ll be okay if one of you carries her for it—“

“Ooh, I’ll do it!” Noya cheers almost too loudly in your ear as he’s still holding you. Without so much as a chance to offer a rebuttal, you’re swept up into his arms as he stands at full height before glancing at his mate. “Ready to go?” Yaku gives a nod, gripping tightly at the satchel over his shoulder before the three of you are off at breakneck speeds. They’re silent as they travel—perhaps because were they to open their mouths at this speed and velocity, they would be catching a whole lot of bugs in their mouths. To your surprise, the three of you end up outside ten-foot-tall brick walls and a chain link fence.

“This is a...”

“A prison,” Yaku answers simply, as if he were answering with what his favorite color was rather than his favorite meal, “considering our diet, we choose to collect our sustenance from those who do not deserve redemption.” There’s a malignant, dark twist in the headman’s words.

“Personally, I prefer going after the rapists and child molestors. Those bastards deserve to be drained of every ounce of blood.” Noya snarls—you could tell it was personal for him. But how could he tell? Surely it wasn’t just written on placards outside of prison cells.

“Easy. Walk in, ask them what they’re serving time for, and their minds fill in the blanks.” The foreboding you sensed from Yaku deepened even further; deepened to the point where it felt like a magnet drawing your eyes towards your savior. But he looked anything but. Yaku stood merely a few inches taller, his claws sharpening and turning black while red overtook the once golden hues of his irises. You look up at Noya curiously, wondering if he’ll undergo the same sort of transformation, but before you could even question it, the gold in his own eyes had already molded into crimson rings.

The three of you enter the building with ease, aiming for the top floor because, according to Nishi, that was where they kept the worst criminals. It played out exactly as Yaku said it would—ask them what they were imprisoned for and, if they were in captivity under the basis of rape, first or second degree murder, sexual assault, or anything involving a minor, he would sink his fangs into their jugular vein and drain them dry. Though he announces his satisfaction, he remains in this strange form that he has presented you with as Nishinoya passes you off into his arms.

The smaller of the two repeats the same process, taking down two prisoners of his own before taking the satchel off of his partner’s shoulder. Noya continues questioning prisoners, letting Yaku’s power of mind reading acting as the judgment call, before pulling out a small, sharp knife from the satchel and slitting each victim’s throat while holding them downcast like a gavel banging down the rule. As blood fountains from their necks, Nishinoya holds fresh IV bags over the openings to collect whatever comes out like rain. Was this how they ended up getting blood for you to feed over the past year. “Yes,” Yaku answers evenly, looking down at you with his crimson eyes, “but we were hoping to actually teach you how to feed tonight. Are you up for it?” Every nerve in your body seemed to scream no, like you shouldn’t be witnessing these events let alone doing it.

But your guts are telling you yes, yes this is now your way of survival. These men were horrid, their victims needed justice. You needed justice. Giving Yaku a small nod, he gives you instructions while the three of you search for your very first meal. Considering neither your fangs nor claws had grown in, as you were very much still a baby by all intents and purposes, Noya would have to incapacitate your prey for you while you bit the inside of your lip, reopening the same puncture wounds from earlier, to allow easier access for the nutrients to enter your body. Once they were out, Noya would puncture the jugular vein for you, while Yaku dipped you down far enough to feed.

Your lips latched on to the raw skin, hooking your own canines for leverage as you draw the blood from your dinner and the moment the warmth seeped into the opening, all doubts about what you were doing had flown out the window. You adjusted the way you’re sitting on your victim, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders as you continuously sucked every drop of life from him. “Did she just—“ Noya questions, not missing the fact that you had just moved your atrophied legs. And while Yaku is very aware of his mate’s balking, he can only focus on the way your lips mold against your meal’s neck or the muted slurping noises bubbling from your lungs like a woman starved. In a sense, that was quite literal. Noya looks over at his partner—silence wasn’t typical of Yaku when asked a question—but words are lost on him when he sees the way Yaku’s eyes are hungrily staring at your form and he’s unsure if its due to hunger or hunger. The moan that leaves your tongue when you finally pull away from the now empty body confirms the shorter one’s suspicions. “Not that seeing you turned on doesn’t turn me on, but you might wanna put that away, Morisuke.” Noya teases before walking towards you, the call of his given name causing Yaku to snap out of his stupor. Well fuck, he snarls bitterly in his head. He was gonna have to feed again, considering all the blood he had just consumed went straight to his cock.

You feel alive—more alive than you felt in ages. And despite your attempt being incredibly shaky, you managed to stand on your own two feet, using the wall to brace yourself. Noya rushes over to your side to try to hold you steady, asking if you’re alright. “I’m more than alright, Nishi, holy shit.” He has an arm under you, carefully bringing you back towards Yaku, though for the most part, you’re walking entirely on your own.

“So what, have you guys just been giving me snacks this whole time?” You sneer teasingly, though Yaku looks away because your accusation because it isn’t entirely wrong. The blood packs were indeed “snacks” but were usually only used to stave off hunts, that way they didn’t just decimate the prison on an every other day basis, but were also used as post coitus replenishments.

“One more?” Yaku coughs out, as if choking on his own spit. “We can do this one together, if you like.” He’s trying to be polite, despite the feral look in his eyes while also trying to calm down the lust and adrenaline running rampant in his system.

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” As opposed to carrying you this time, Yaku flanks to your empty side, helping you walk between him and Noya until you came upon your next victim. This one was larger than the last few—stocky and skin marred with stories of a brutal past. No matter which way you looked at him, he looked bitter, and after asking him what he was in for, you figure he was a perfect candidate. After all, intentionally murdering his wife and three children was heinous by definition. Yaku approaches the much taller man, crouching ever so slightly in the event your meal tried to escape; not that he could even if he wanted to. The leader of the Damned was behind him in seconds, snapping his neck to disarm the threat that was his build.

To everyone’s surprise, you made your way over slowly to the now lifeless, six-foot-three prisoner while Yaku punctured holes on both sides of the victim’s neck, allowing the both of you to feed. It was oddly intimate, being so close to someone while sucking the literal life out of somebody. The lapping, sucking noises brought back salacious thoughts to the man beside you, and he’s doing all that he can just to avoid trading sustenance for an erection again. Meanwhile, Noya is watching both of you in amusement. Does his partner realize that he’s gingerly scraping his claws along your spine? Is it out of encouragement, or interest? Yu can’t quite tell, but he finds it entertaining nonetheless. Even more so when Yaku squirms at the throaty moan leaving your lungs when you pull away, lips plump with a bead of leftovers dripping from the seam of you mouth.

Either way, Nishinoya knows it won’t be long now until Yaku cracks. Despite the great amount of self-control he tends to exercise, Yaku is but a simple creature that cannot stave off his desires and Noya is no different. They were going to give way to their desires sooner rather than later, but they made a vow eons ago that revenge must always come first.

One year, three months, one week, and four days. That was how long it had been since you died in the alleyway. Today was the day those boys were going to die for what they did.

By now, you were fully functioning; walking on your own, feeding on your own. The only difference between you and the others was that you still slept, though not very much anymore, and according to Akaashi, it would be a trait that you would grow out of maybe two decades after your first century. That was actually the sole reason there was even a bed in the house—Nishinoya still slept merely because he enjoyed it. He wasn’t like the others who had found a passion project that kept him up around the clock, so more often than not, he would join you in bed. After all, it was originally his bed.

And more often than not, Yaku would sit in the spacious window sill while Noya wrapped his arms around you protectively in your shared slumber, as if to abide by the repeated mantra he had said over the last year—he’ll be there when you wake.

Your dreams are no longer memories, as you’ve got caught up to current events thanks to the playback speed that they paced themselves at. Now, you’re able to recall on every single event of your life that you’ve witnessed thus far with perfect detail—including the faces of your five murderers. Each of them belonged to your university Pike fraternity; two of them were a year older than you, two the same age, and the one who had the knife to your neck was a freshman not yet old enough to drink legally, but apparently old enough to to pull the metaphorical trigger and throw the knife that had gone through your entire body, severing your aorta in your heart.

After researching in the form of disguise, you learned that tonight Pi Kappa Epsilon would be holding their annual holiday gala; fancy words for a giant frat party for those who chose not to return to their hometowns for Christmas. Knowing how these events tend to function—it was relatively easy to sneak in, even with Nishinoya and Yaku flanking your sides. You flashed the doorman a crisp fifty, knowing males always had to pay a fee for entry while women always got in for free. The bouncer grins upon seeing you in a tight, red body-con dress, but the grin is immediately displaced when his eyes land on the two men beside you. Giving your best, most flirtatious smile, you grab both of their wrists before heading inside. “Don’t lose me, okay?” You yell over the pounding music.

“We won’t,” they say in unison. Noya gives you a reassuring smile, hand pressed against Yaku’s back gently, while the latter purses his lips together in discomfort. “Just keep talking to me through here,” he adds, pressing his cold lips to your forehead chastely, “and I’ll find you.” You give him a confident nod before you throw yourself into the throng of people to find your targets. It proved a bit of a challenge, considering the strobe lighting and the myriad of people—all of the men looked the same on top of that. But once your eyes narrowed in on the man you first lured you, it was game over.

Like a tiger ready to pounce, you sauntered over to him, pushing aside whomever he was with at the moment before wrapping your arms lewdly around his neck. He looks down at you skeptically, but otherwise pleased with the bold actions. From a short distance away, Yaku and Noya are hiding like wallflowers, listening to the resounding chant happening in your head that screamed to kill him. “You know,” Noya chimes in lowly, distracting Yaku from the way your hips are grinding and gyrating against the strange man’s, “we could just kill the entire fraternity.” Yaku shakes his head—Noya was always fond of the idea of revenge against all who were guilty by association. While the others in the clan gave into his persuasion, Yaku never found it amusing.

“What if they had no idea that their brother killed someone?”

“They probably bragged about it,” Noya grumbles. From his own experience, the shorter of the two liked to think that he knew how these people tended to operate.

“It’s go time.” Yaku says abruptly, eyes locked onto your retreating form as you pull one of your rapists by the tie and lead him out the frat house. The two Damned maneuver their way towards the quietest space, hunting for a window they can exit out of to follow you without garnering too much attention towards the situation. When they end up on the sidewalk outside of the Pike house, they see you parading—brokenly, complete with fake stumbles to allude to you being drugged again—the man by the tie until he shoves you into the same alleyway.

Close behind were four others, all built and stocky as they traveled in their pack and making their way towards the alley. You were cornered amongst trash and dead rats, the five of them trying to zero in on you, yet you showed no fear. Instead, you stood at full height with the addition of your stilettos, as your body transitioned into it’s more predatory form. “Remember me?” You ask sweetly, cracking your knuckles nonchalantly. Your hair that’s covering the ugly mound of flesh scarred over from your injury is swept over the opposite shoulder, giving them full view as your short, blackened claws graze over the skin. “Over a year ago, the five of you brought a woman to this alley, raped her and you,” a feral snarl leaves your lips as you point to the youngest fraternity brother, “threw a knife into her back that went all the way through her heart and killed her.”

The five of them begin looking over at each other, wondering who ratted out who considering they had never spoken of the night since it occurred. It was easy to avoid, considering the body was never found. There was never any evidence. “W-who are you?” The youngest one squawks out.

“Don’t remember?” Your head snaps in the direction to one of the older members. “I should have bit your dick off when I had the chance.” There’s no more room for talking, no room for rebuttal. Instead, you grab the same man you lured into the alley by the tie, bringing him close enough to snap his neck. When he was neither moving nor breathing, the remaining four began to back up.

“Yo, this bitch is crazy, let’s get out of here—“

“You think you’re just gonna get away?” Noya laughs dryly as it crescendoed into full volume, shaking the walls and mimicking an earthquake that did not expand beyond the walls of the alley. The remaining four fall to the ground, not prepared for such loud noises let alone a trembling earth to accompany the sound. Yaku shakes his head in utter disgust before the crimson ring in his eyes locks with the prey.

“Done eating, love?” He calls out, causing the four other frat boys to look over in horror at the “e” word. Once again, you’re standing at full height, the back of your hand wiping away the blood that had escaped from your mouth from your feeding.

“Not quite yet,” With every step you took, they trembled back, only to be met with your two saviors blocking their only exit. The youngest one is hiding all the way in the back, trepidation causing his bones to rattle within his skin as his back hits Yaku’s calf. “I’m still hungry.” Noya lets out a snort at this—he truly did love your sense of humor.

“You’re next.” Yaku looks down at the young boy, only nineteen-years-old, who had been your executioner. That same boy looks at the leader of the clan in horror, eyes wide because he never in a million years saw this as his end. Effortlessly, Yaku picks him up by the collar of his shirt before tossing him in your direction. Rather than catching him, you gathered your claws together to form a single point, driving the makeshift lance through the stomach of the one who had ended your life. Without verbalizing it, you gave the boys permission to feed on the other two—so long as it wasn’t the one that you had tried to bite down on when he rammed his cock in your mouth.

You had plans for him.

In the mean time, you pull the now lifeless body off of your bloodied hand, drinking down whatever was dripping down your arm before tossing him off to the side; you had one more pressing matter to deal with. The last of the boys—the dessert to your meal was pressed against the wall as he tried to run from this situation, watching in mortification as Yaku and Noya beheaded the other two brothers with their bare hands, feasting on their prey. “Like I said,” you sneered as you approached the last one, ripping off his pants and boxers much like he had when he violated your mouth. “I should have bit your dick off when I had the chance.”

And so you did.

“Remind me to never get on your bad side,” Yaku muses, having finished his meal, gawking at the way you had just left the last one along the wall with his penis bitten off all the way down to the base while you returned to the youngest member again, draining your murderer for all he was worth.

“I dunno, it’s kinda hot, babe.” Noya jokes, watching in amusement as well.

“I’m actually kinda full,” You shrug, having drained the stabber entirely—that put your body count to two full bodies. “D’you guys wanna have the last one? I got all I wanted from him.” At sound of your permission, Yaku approaches the last one with a predatory glare, not daring to break eye contact as he asked you one more question.

“[ name ], do you feel that justice been served?” With a nonplussed grimace, you gave a shrug.

“If anything, these assholes got the short end of the stick. They murder a girl they raped so she comes back from the dead and kills them all with two beautiful men by her side? Yeah, I’m happy with that.”

By the time you returned home, you were an entirely different creature. You felt...free. Like there was nothing else anchoring your dead heart, like you no longer had a tether to this world. Like you had no purpose.

So now what?

Silently you meander back to your shared bedroom to further contemplate your existence, the boys you left behind glancing at each other in concern. “Want me to talk to her? I might be able to better sympathize.” Noya asks quietly so that your now heightened hearing can’t quite pick up on the conversation. Regardless, Yaku shakes his head. He knows exactly what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling and not just because of his ability to read minds.

“I’ve got a few things I want to say to her anyway.” Noya presses a tender kiss to his mates cheek before he flits away to hang out with Daichi as he normally does when he’s not with Yaku, while the head of the clan makes his way to the room. You’re lying in bed already, the dress and stilettos shed and traded for bare feet and a slip. Despite your back turned towards him, you feel the bed dip as he lays beside you, something atypical of Yaku. “How do you feel?” His voice is merely a whisper as he cautiously wraps an arm around your waist.

“Shouldn’t you know the answer?” You retort, but Yaku doesn’t recoil because he knows. He knows the sort of limbo you feel you’re placed in now that your postmortem mission had been carried out. What were you supposed to do for the rest of eternity besides act as an impromptu executioner, feeding off of the worst criminals within a hundred mile radius?

“Is that all you see us as?”

“No,” You say quietly. These Damned men had accomplished great things, from what you knew of them, in their lifetimes. Sugawara has continued composing even well after his other alias’ deaths, Akaashi has been working on a research piece for decades regarding cancer in the form of preventative measures rather than a cure, in addition to a cure. Daichi had participated in the Olympics a number of times, Yaku was once a politician in multiple countries and Nishinoya had worked closely with electronic developers over the years including Microsoft and Linux. “You guys have accomplished so much in your lifetimes, I just don’t want to be some sort of disappointment—“

“[ name ], we never knew were going to do those things. We just kept pushing on, finding out things we were passionate about and since we have unlimited time, we’ve had time to hone and perfect those skills.”

“What if I never do anything that great?” Yaku lets out a sigh, turning your now fully restored body around to face him and pressing his face into your neck. Over the duration of your rehabilitation process, he’d become so over protective of you, wanting what’s best for you in any capacity yet never fully being honest with himself.

“You have time to figure it out,” he mumbles into your own icy skin, lips tickling your veins. “Until then, just stay? With me?”

“Yaku...” he had never fully outright asked you to stay—only alluding to it in the past with talks of the future.

“I-I want you,” he whispers almost uncharacteristically. Being a diplomat, stuttering was not a thing that Yaku did very often. “To stay with us forever. To stay with me forever.” This is it, he figures. It’s now or never. Yaku can’t stand the idea of you leaving the clan, leaving him when he hadn’t yet had a taste of you, had you in any other form than a few mere kisses for feeding or in fantasies. Pulling away, Yaku shifts once again so that his arms are holding his weight above you, his lips ghosting intimately over yours.

Both of you are overly aware of the attraction that’s there—you knew of the daydreams you’d had of him throughout the year and with his ability, he was unwillingly subjected to them. Reaching up slightly, your lips press against his hungrily, your tongue immediately dancing along the seam of his lips, begging for permission to enter. Yaku doesn’t waste a second dropping the support from his arms in favor to press his body fully into yours because he’s been waiting for this moment. It’s evident in his fervent kiss, it’s evident in his ever present erection. A mewl warbles in your throat as you feel him grind against you.

Why the hell had you waited so long for this? Why did he wait so long for this?

There was no more waiting.

Breaking a part for a moment, you pull the slip off your torso hastily while Yaku unbuckles his belt and frees his lower half. Impatience floods you as you tear off the thin Henley he’s wearing, leaving the two of you entirely bare in front of each other. The large scar on your bosom that had made you self conscious for months suddenly felt dull in comparison as you’re met with the varying marks that marred Yaku’s skin. From what you could tell, they looked like whiplashes. “I need you now,” he pleads, ignoring your wandering thoughts as he hungrily pulls you in for another kiss. Though rather short lived, your overwhelmed with warmth and pulsing in your core as his fangs run along your neck before sucking lovingly at your collarbone.

“O-oh,” you moan out wantonly, clutching at his shoulders to keep yourself steady. With no preparation, not that you needed any, Yaku slowly sheaths his member inside of you, the girth stretching you deliciously. For a moment, the two of you remain still to bask in the reprieve you both felt, unaware of the third party member watching pleased in the lounge chair across from the bed. “Fuck,” you hiss out between your teeth as he’s pushing in inch after inch.

“You’re doing so good, princess,” for a moment, he’s impressed—taking eleven inches with little to no preparation can be torturous, and he knew that from experience. “Come on, baby take the last of it—oh fuck yeah,” Yaku groans out as soon as he’s balls deep within you. The two of you are still, enjoying the moment of togetherness before he bottoms out entirely in your sweet little hole. His hips move almost languidly so as not to hurt you but good lord for all that is unholy, is he holding back.

Soft whimpers leave your lungs each time his hips snap back into yours—why the hell hadn’t you fucked Yaku sooner?! A throaty chuckle grumbles in his chest at the thought. Even with him slamming his cock in you at half-force, his mind is intertwined with yours to the point where your thoughts feel like his own. “I had to take care of you princess, wanted to make sure you could handle me fucking you.”

“Then fuck me harder, ass-hat.”

“He likes it better when you call him senpai.” Nishinoya calls out from the opposite corner of the room, as if he wasn’t just leisurely watching his partner ream himself into your core. You let out a scream and at this point, you aren’t sure if it’s because Yaku have a particularly hard thrust with the head of his dick meeting with the edge of your womb or if Nishinoya’s presence surprised you. Even more so to see that he was stark naked, stroking his cock that he’s presenting to your mouth.

“Suck off your senpai, princess.” Yaku whispers devilishly in your ear, holding his cock still within you as he does so. Tentatively, you give a kitten lick to the head before you, testing out Nishinoya’s reaction to the motion before deeming him worthy. A soft grunt escapes him, his body more than welcoming of the sensation—but it just wasn’t enough for you.

“I need a better reaction than that, Nishi,” You joke.

A poor plan on your part.

The shorter of the two looks down at you curiously, a wicked twist of his lip displayed for you as he briefly tosses an amused look towards Yaku, to which the latter lets out a chuckle in addition to the shake of his head before he starts to withdraw his cock from within you. “How’s this for reaction?” Noya chirps before deftly wrapping his claws in your hair, slamming his engorged member down your throat while Yaku simultaneously thrusts back inside you. The carnal desires that had run rampant through your mind on occasion had built to this moment, built up the needy desire that the boys finally had the chance to release with you. “Yeah, you take that cock in your throat, baby. Show us how much you’ve wanted us from the start.”

Nishinoya is absolutely relentless as he repeatedly withdraws and replaces his erection in your mouth, pulling so far back as to have his tip tease and smear pre-cum along your lips, all the while chanting praise and how much he loves you; how much he’s dreamed of having you between him and Yaku. The latter can’t help the stuttering motion of his hips as he unabashedly strokes his member along your walls, the tip of dick all but moving into your womb. “Yeah, princess, take your senpais cocks so fucking good, yeah? You want us to fill all your holes with our fucking cum, don’t you?” You can only wail out around Nishinoya in your mouth in response, clenching and squeezing your pussy tightly around Yaku inside you. The clan head lets out a very audible groan at the abrupt friction. “Oh, fuck yeah. Fuck yeah, senpai’s gonna cum so fucking hard inside you, yeah yeah yeah.” Yaku is absolutely wrecking and ravaging your lower half while all the foul, salacious words leaving him were only serving to turn on his partner even more until the both of them hold still to empty their first loads inside you.

After a momentary reprieve, the two of them withdraw from you, the smallest whine leaving your lips at the distinct emptiness. Between pants, both of the males look to each other before letting out a laugh. “Princess,” Noya calls out from your left, golden eyes light and airy as they gaze at you, “did you think we were going to let you cum?”

“Y-yes?” Why wouldn’t they? Wasn’t that just normal, sex etiquette between partners?

“Oh no, love,” Yaku adds, “We’re gonna show you just how much we love you, gotta coat every inch of your skin in our fluids before you can even think about cumming.” Before you can blink, the boys are up again with Nishinoya taking his position with the tip of his still hardened member teasing the outer lips of your pussy. Meanwhile, Yaku makes it a point to slap your cheek with his own erection, making sure to keep your attention and focus on him. Simultaneously, they thrust into their respective orifices that they’ve traded—Yaku treating you much more delicately versus Noya who shoves his entire mast inside your depths.

“Oh damn, babe, you’re so fucking tight!” The latter howls, throwing his head back in ecstasy. Despite having identical lengths, Nishinoya was much more rough and rigid, your walls acclimating to every vein out of necessity before relentlessly pounding away at your insides. At his pace, your pussy doesn’t even have a chance to miss the feeling of fullness. Your voice is no longer coming out in moans or screams due to the damning pace—only in a broken staccato of warbles from the speed that Noya’s fucking you. “Yeah, baby? Gonna stay here with us forever and get dicked down every night? You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

But with the almost tender, loving way Yaku is holding your throat while repeatedly sliding his cock in from tip to base, there is no actual way you can reply. Instead, you let out grunts and cries of affirmation because you would stupid not to welcome the way these two were screwing you. It’s also more than just that.

These two, as well as the rest of the brood, had taken you in being inches from death, presented you with another opportunity for life that served as an opportunity for you to seek revenge, while caring for you and almost...loving you.

“We do,” Yaku bites, withdrawing his cock from your lips offended at the thought of almost, “love you, that is.” The hand that is cupping your throat moves to brush the backs of his claws along your jaw before pulling your chin and torso up so that Yaku can kiss you fully. There is no lust or wanton desire in this kiss—it’s love through and through that is simultaneously cold yet warm.

“You’ve been dreaming about us for a long time, princess,” Noya grits out, his peak approaching all too quickly with the way you’re clenching around him with no relief. He’s panting heavily, no longer caring about his need to assert his dominance in any capacity; all he can think about is cumming deep inside you while you cum around his thick cock. “We want to make your dreams come true.”

Yaku pulls away from the kiss in time to hear your cries—a delicacy he had never had the pleasure of knowing in a past life—as you cum with Noya. The latter is holding still for a brief moment before withdrawing, his spent body collapsing beside you. You’re sensitive, you realize, as Yaku slides back in to reclaim his space. Your walls are still trembling in the aftermath of your orgasm, but Yaku is much more gentle this time around. Pressing his body flush against yours, he wraps both his arms around you with one cradling your head, the other around your lower back to pull you as close as possible. His shallow moving thrusts in accompaniment to his pulsing girth are enough to trigger yet another orgasm in direct succession, and coercing his own orgasm. “Please stay, [ name ].” He mumbles into your hair as he feels his seed spurting within you. Though you supply no answer due to trying to catch your breath, you only nod in response. Yaku remains still inside you, so as if to seal both his and his partner’s emission within you with his own softening cock, smiling at the simple fact that you had nodded in response. “Get some rest, little one,” He adds, adjusting so that he’s on the opposite side of you and a now sleeping Noya. “We’ll be here when you wake.”

66 notes · View notes

hansols-yoda-boxers · 5 years ago

Text

Ateez NSFW A-Z

Jongho

A = Aftercare

He wants to be really good at aftercare, but he’s not super sure of himself and what he wants to do. If you guide him through it the first few times he’ll get really good at it. He likes taking care of you and being a little protective to once he knows what to do he really thrives with aftercare.

B = Body Part

Not exactly a body part per say but he likes his strength. He likes how he can move you around and hold you down and the way you react when he does. He also likes the feeling when you manage to overpower him despite his strength. His favourite part of your body shifts around but often he will say your neck, he loves leaving marks all over your neck and the way you react when he kisses it. If he’s being a little more vulgar he’ll say your boobs.

C = Cum

He doesn’t love anything super messy most of the time so usually he’s fine to cum in a condom. He does find it super hot to cum inside you but then he freaks out and worries that he’s gotten you pregnant so you don’t do that very often. The one exception about messiness is that when you let him fuck your boobs he can’t help but cum across your chest.

D = Dirty Secret

He wants to be pegged and just in general to have you do stuff with his ass. He’s super surprised when he experiments with it on his own and he really loves it and from then on he’s dying to say something but it takes a lot before he’s willing to tell you what he wants.

E = Experience

Not much. He’s had one partner for a little whole but most of the experimenting that he’s done has been when he’s on his own. There was a lot he didn’t get to try so he’s really excited and a little nervous to try them with you.

F = Favourite Position

Anything where you’re underneath him. He loves to hold you down or, when he’s feeling a little softer, hold your hand. He also loves that he can look down at you and take in the way your body moves and how you react to every one of his thrusts and every moan bolsters his confidence.

G = Goofy

He’s not goofy at all. He takes sex much more seriously and he tends to be more romantic or caring. If you laugh or giggle at him he’ll worry that he’s doing something wrong and fret over if he should handle things differently or if you’re laughing at him. It makes him nervous that he’s not getting the mood right or doing something embarrassing.

H = Hair

He has it cut quite short. He finds it much easier to keep it clean that way and he guesses that you’ll like it better if it’s shorter and not so unruly or messy. He’s a little nervous the first few times but takes it as a good sign that you don’t say anything about it.

I = Intimacy

He’s very romantic most of the time. Even when he’s pinning you down he’s not too rough and still showers you in praise and makes you feel good. He likes to keep the atmosphere loving and sweet.

J = Jack Off

A few times a week. He doesn't feel the need to all the time. Most of the time he tries to keep it quick but every once in a while when he has the privacy he takes his time and explores what he likes a little more.

K = Kink

***

L = Location

The bedroom, maybe the living room. But he likes to be somewhere comfy and not too risky and the bedroom is a perfect place for that. You have the time and space and comfort to explore without having to worry about being interrupted.

M = Motivation

He loves when you wear his clothes, it really gets to him when he sees you walking around in his sweaters and you throw him cute, cheeky smirks all day. He also loves when you pay attention to him and get a little clingy. He likes when you’re all cute and stick to his side all day it makes him feel so good.

N = NO

Maybe it’s because he’s so strong, but he really worries about hurting you. He doesn’t want to hit you at all or cause you pain. He’ll be really hesitant to do anything that could hit you and he’ll completely refuse to hit you.

O = Oral

He likes it going both ways but with his confidence growing slowly he likes to give. The more he does it the more he learns just what you like and when you start moaning and trying to grind your hips against his face as he holds you down he’ll get so smug about it.

P = Pace

Pretty steady, if a little on the slow side, but every single thrust is so deep and draws moans from your lips. He can be a little faster if you ask but he finds a slower pace more comfortable and it lets him really take in everything about you.

Q = Quickie

Really not a fan of quickies. He likes to have his time with you and know that you have your privacy. Quickies never leave him feeling all that satisfied he would rather set aside time to actually have sex properly with you.

R = Risk

He doesn’t get too risky with location. He doesn’t want anyone seeing the two of you like that, he just sees it as something private that’s just between the two of you. However in the bedroom he does get experimental. He still wants to try lots of new things and see what he likes that he’s yet to explore.

S = Stamina

He lasts a regular amount of time. Usually he tries to draw out the evening by really focusing on you and if you’re in charge he likes to have you edge him to see how long he can last before he starts begging you.

T = Toy

He likes specific toys. He won’t use anything but you guys have a set of toys that he likes to use but once you find those things he probably won’t stray too far outside of that. Occasionally you might bring in something new but not that super often.

U = Unfair

He doesn’t tease you much. He likes to be sweet with you and he has such a big soft spot for you as well. However, he does like it when you tease him a little. He can only handle so much but he likes when you get him a little worked up with teasing.

V = Volume

He’s pretty quiet. Even his whines and whimpers aren’t too loud but especially his groans and moans are low and quiet.

W = Wild Card

He has so many role play ideas in his head and slowly he’ll bring them up to you. They’re the times he’s the most adventurous. He loves trying out different roles for both of you and finding new kinks to play with.

X = Xtra

His extraness is in his romanticism and intimacy. He’s super sweet to you and loves to keep you close and tell you how much he loves you and how precious you are to him. He will go all out with candles and rose petals and the whole nine yards every once in awhile just to show you how special you are.

Y = Yearning

If he could he would want to have sex with you a few times a week but he’s really flexible about it. Whatever works for your schedules will be fine with him but if it’s long in between he’ll be extra sweet to make up for it.

Z = ZZZ

He gets pretty drowsy but he still has the energy to take care of you. He likes to have you cuddled up against his chest and dozing off before he falls asleep.

#3k celebration #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez headcanons #jongho imagines #jongho smut #choi jongho imagines

169 notes · View notes

maniacwatchestheworld · 5 years ago

Text

A Meta Analysis of Markiplier, Darkiplier, and the Evolution of Their Relationship

This train of thought is a continuation of this post and the implications thereof applied to real life. You should probably read that first before I start poorly over analyzing things in ways they were probably never intended to be analyzed. But over analyzing I shall! Only like... One person asked for this. So here it is!

So if Wilford, the Actor, and Dark are all aspects of Mark in a writer, performer, editor dynamic, what does Dark’s existence and his changing relation to how Mark perceived and wrote him say about Mark himself? Well, first we gotta look at the creation of Dark and what Mark meant Dark to represent before he changed into what he is now.

Mark has talked about the creation of Darkiplier as a character several times at this point. When he talks about how he came to create Dark as he is now and the first project Dark appeared in earnest in (A Date with Markiplier) he tends to tell the same story.

Dark wasn’t originally Mark’s character. Rather he was something that Mark’s fans came up with. An evil version of Mark. There wasn’t any consistent idea nor canon for him because he wasn’t created by any singular person. People just liked the idea of there being an evil doppelganger to Mark and ran with this idea to whatever conclusion they wanted.

However these things didn’t go unnoticed by Mark. And when he saw this, he hated it. He saw how people were romanticizing this evil version of him and so made relax to make fun of the idea of this character, and to squash this romanticizing ideation.

This was technically speaking the first time he portrayed the character of Dark, making him out to be entirely pathetic and goofy in how edgy he was trying to be. However ultimately, his attempts to make people stop engaging with this character idea completely failed.

Also at this time, unbeknownst to everyone else, Mark wasn’t really happy at the time. He was complacent. Just grinding videos out day after day after day without stopping or taking a moment to think. He tends to recall how there was a moment. He was leaving town (I think it was for a tour?) and had been churning out videos so that he would have a backlog of stuff to come out. He was tired. He went into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror and when he saw his reflection, he realized. He wasn’t happy. And so he decided to make a change.

A Date With Markiplier was one of the first videos following that change. He wanted to take his work and his videos in a brand new direction. And this was one of his first steps towards that. This is also Darkiplier’s real debut and the point where he would take the form of what he is now. And it was with A Date With Markiplier that Mark decided to take Darkiplier’s narrative into his own hand and steer it into a new direction as well.

He intended to make Darkiplier the complete opposite of himself and everything that he doesn’t want to be. A social manipulator. A liar. Someone who will do whatever it takes and use whoever he wants to get what he wants. Someone who doesn’t care about who he hurts.

At this point, Dark’s character was defined in pretty vague terms. He would pop up now and again to be menacing, but we didn’t ever really know who he was or what he wanted. Dark stayed in this nebulous state until Who Killed Markiplier.

Who Killed Markiplier marked a major shift in Dark’s character. Now we knew who he was. We knew his motivations, and we learned that Dark isn’t just one person. He’s a combination of characters and ideas, all shoved into a vessel that doesn’t fit quite right. We would only get further elaboration on how Dark works and confirmation that Damien is the one in control of Dark in DAMIEN.

A Date With Markiplier started things, but Who Killed Markiplier solidified them. I don’t know if Mark created the Actor on purpose or if he merely stumbled upon his existence in the meta ending of A Date With Markiplier. Because the character that Mark intended to be Darkiplier... Well... Especially now that he gave Dark a tragic past and understandable and sympathetic motivations... There is an obvious disconnect. He didn’t have his social manipulator in Dark. Dark may be scary, but his actions show that he is honest and more well-meaning than one would expect. The social manipulator was shown to be in his own character, Mark the actor. And it would have been at this point where Mark would have written this story with the authorial intent of the house being his mind and William, the Actor, and Damien being aspects of his personality.

So if we now take the evolution of these characters as an allegory for Mark’s own experiences with what was happening in his mind throughout his relationship of the character of Dark... It makes for a rather interesting story for what was happening to him...

Mark wasn’t happy. But he didn’t know why. He had a happy face and looked fine on the outside, but inside he was torn. When Mark made Dark, it’s easy to think that he would have projected everything he didn’t want to be and everything he hated about himself on Dark. Since we know in retrospect that Damien is part of Dark, Dark would also have included the part of him that was critical and second guessing. It would have been the part of him that saw how tired he was and knew that he couldn’t keep it up. And it is easy to see how he would hate this part of him and place the blame for his issues into this part of himself and therefore make these aspects into the villain.

With A Date With Markiplier, I think that Mark might not have known yet where his real problems were stemming from and so painted Dark as being that part of him who was the problem because... Well... He’s scary! He’s saying things about Mark that he didn’t like or think were true! He must just be manipulative and saying these things to get what he wants! But the reality is that the truth is scary. Honesty, confronting these ugly parts of yourself, and working to change them is terrifying. But just because they’re scary does not mean they’re bad. Darkness isn’t bad. It’s just scary. But scary can be good.

I think that sometime in between A Date with Markiplier and Who Killed Markiplier, Mark made a realization. And that was when the Actor came to exist in earnest.

All along, Mark had thought that there were just two parts of him fighting for dominance. The fun, happy, eclectic, creative, and manic side of him as represented by Wilford, and this scary, cynical part of him that whispered to him all of his doubts, fears, shortcomings, mistakes, and flaws as represented by Dark. But he was wrong. It wasn’t just those two. There was a third piece of him pulling him down into misery and that was the real source of his unhappiness. His own ego. The face that everyone saw and loved. The part of him that would do literally anything to please. And that part of him was the one making him unhappy all along.

I just like to imagine that there was a Sanders Sides moment in Mark’s head at this point where his manic creative side and his knowledgeable but caring side just sat him down and said, “We want to tell them our story.” And that was how Who Killed Markiplier came to be.

Mark was unhappy. And so the performer did what he does best and puts on a show, convincing everyone else that he was fine. He was happy! You can see it on his mask! How could he not be happy! He’s the great Markiplier after all! Nothing could possibly be wrong! The performer wanted to convince everyone that everything was good when the reality was that it wasn’t. He was suffering inside. And eventually, the mask broke. And when Mark looked at himself in the mirror, he saw something that he didn’t like. I think that what he saw was Dark looking right back at him, questioning if he really was happy with what he was doing and with the way things had gone. That part of him knew that Mark was lost, but Mark it scared him. He didn’t realize at this point that the part of him he saw in the mirror wasn’t evil. It was just concerned. But at the very least it made him realize that something was wrong. Mark started to make new things and to move his life in a different direction to better his condition which gave the writer all of the praise and attention. However the performer got jealous of the writer and how much attention it was receiving. The performer wanted revenge, but couldn’t touch the writer. No one would believe that the writer was the root cause of all of this unhappiness anyway. But the editor...? People could believe that.

The performer took the guise of the editor, and blamed everything on the editor. After all, that was the terrifying face Mark saw in the mirror right? That face started all of this change, right? You looked fine before with this mask on. And that new face? It was terrifying! It must have been the cause of this unhappiness in the first place! And all this time, the performer just had to pretend that he didn’t exist. I tend to imagine that DAMIEN is the conversation that Mark had with himself when he realized that he needed help from others and when he realized that his own ego was the problem. Because it was only at this point where the performer finally came to light and showed itself for what it really was. A mask that wanted all the attention, praise, and love in the world to consume for itself. It exposed itself for being vain, shallow, callous, a manipulator, and more than happy to use whatever and whomever it needed to to get what it wants. The fact that he saw in the mirror, the editor may have been scary, but it wasn’t the problem. The fact that he saw the editor’s scary face had been what pushed Mark back onto the right path. But the reason it took him so long to see that face in the first place was because the mask was hiding it from him. The mask and its performer liked the status quo and was willing to hide the truth from Mark, even if it meant breaking him.

At least that’s how I’m choosing to interpret the symbolism associated with Dark and the Actor. It’s pretty darn literal, but I think it’s pretty cool and a more interesting take on those particular aesthetics.

So just... Poor Dark. Getting blamed for being the cause of Mark’s woes when the actual blame lay elsewhere. Dark just wanted to remind Mark of who he actually was, wanted to be, and Dark wanted to guide Mark into being a happier and more fulfilled person. But because of that, he’s scary. And so he was made out to be the villain. Merely because the performer wanted one.

Then again, perhaps this is just a form of survival for the performer. After all, if Mark wanted to get rid of any part of himself, he certainly can’t get rid of the editor and is better served by keeping the writer around. But the performer himself? Mark could get rid of him, right? Wouldn’t it be healthier if Mark got rid of the pretense, the persona, and the mask keeping him from being as genuine as he can be? Personally I think that this is the wrong way to go about things. After going through therapy myself, I don’t think that you should try to get rid of the pieces that are you. You just need to work to make those parts of you not control your life. Mark is better served by working with the Actor, the performer to understand it, make certain that it is heard, but to let another part of him take control. But you can easily see how Mark might think that it would be for the best to get rid of this part of himself entirely. And you can also see why the performer would be afraid of that happening even if Mark decided against it. To borrow from Sanders Sides again, the Actor is one of Mark’s Dark Sides. Just like Virgil at first, it’s easy to see how he is scary and harmful to Mark’s well-being. But that’s not the whole picture. There probably is something good about the Actor. We just don’t tend to see it. I for one can think of one good thing about the Actor though. After all, if it wasn’t for him, would we even have a Markiplier and his channel to love?

So yeah. Sorry for how long this post ended up being? I hope that it all made sense to you. I may be completely off base and incorrect about a lot of stuff, but until all of this gets outright disproven, this is the interpretation I’m going to go with. I think that it makes for a pretty compelling interpretation and story... However I also think that it may be a bit invasive to think about Mark’s life like this. As if it were a fictional story for interpreting. But then again, if Mark didn’t want people to try to read into his works an allegory for his internal struggles, then it was a bad idea for him to have outright said that the mansion was his mind and that the characters of Who Killed Markiplier were representations for parts of himself. But in any case I hope that you liked reading this too long thing. I don’t have a note to conclude on, so bye!

#markiplier #darkiplier #who killed markiplier #a date with markiplier #damien #wilford warfstache #william j barnum #actor mark

53 notes · View notes

xxdearlybeloved · 6 years ago

Text

The Escort

Modern!Ragnar x Reader

Summary: Aslaug hires an escort to keep her husband happy. The crazy things we do for love.

A/N: Basically smut. Please note this is a highly romanticized fantasy. While I support women’s rights to do what they want with their bodies, please always put your safety and well being first. Love you all!

You walked through the hotel, trying not to stand out in the ornate lobby. You were sure people had used this place for the same reasons you were here, but you didn’t know what to do. It was your first time, and you were sure your tight black dress and heels told everyone why you were there.

You just hoped no one stopped you. Or did you hope someone did?

Pushing the up button, you cast a shy smile to the man waiting next to you. You felt his eyes on your body, and you tried not to subconsciously pull your dress down. Be confident. That’s what your friend had told you while she hit your hands away as you both looked in the mirror.

She had been an escort for months now, and you couldn’t help but admit you were curious. You trade a few hours for a few thousand dollars, what was the harm in trying it out? She had already paid off most of her loans, and she seemed to be enjoying the people she met. But you knew the chances were that you would be trading more than just your time, and you didn’t know how you felt about that.

“You can always say you’re not interested and leave,” your friend had reassured. “They’ll pay you less, but you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Those words played through your head as the elevator rose. Your hands gripped the bar, sliding slightly from the sweat. The elevator stopped, letting the other man off. He turned and gave you a smile, which you tried to return before the elevator doors closed.

Get it together. You took deep breaths, wiping your hands on your dress as you ran through your posture. Head high, back straight, hips square. You shook yourself out, took a deep breath, then slowly let it out as the elevator came to a stop on your floor.

His floor.

It was a new client, but your friend was already booked so she gave him to you. You didn’t really know what to expect, your friend had just told you to be yourself. Whatever that meant. You knocked on the door, taking another steadying breath that did not prepare you for what came next.

A woman answered the door. A tall, beautiful goddess of a woman. And she smiled as if she was expecting you. “Come in, you’re right on time.”

You hesitated. “I’m looking for… Mr. Lothbrok?”

“You’re in the right place, come in dear.” You stepped through the door into a lavish suite. Unsure of what to do, you turned to look at your greeter. “He’s straight through there,” she said, grabbing her coat. “Have a good night.”

“You too,” you said, softly. You took another deep breath before heading in the direction she had indicated. You saw a man with a bald head covered in tattoos reading a book in one of the chairs. You waited for him to sense your presence, but when he flipped the page you cleared your throat. His eyes shot up, taking you in before he slowly closed the book.

“Mr. Lothbrok?”

“Yes,” he said, setting the book on the table and standing to come towards you. “What is your name?” His eyes were some of the most hypnotizing you had ever seen. You told him your name and he smiled, moving to stand in front of you. “What are you doing here?”

You were not prepared for that question. Wasn’t it obvious? He had hired you, hadn’t he? “I… I’m not sure what you mean?”

“Why did you come?”

“My friend was busy, so I…” you trailed off, not sure what to tell this man. His very presence seemed to be making it hard for you to think.

“So you…?” he prompted, taking one of your curls in his hand. Was it getting harder to breathe?

“Came instead,” you finished, barely above a whisper. He smiled at you and you were grateful he couldn’t see you blush at your words.

“Why?” he prompted, going to sit on the chair he was in when you arrived. He motioned for you to take the seat next to him.

“I’m not sure,” you said, sitting and facing him. His eyes were still on you, and you felt encouraged to be honest. “I guess I just wanted to see what would happen.”

You took the drink he offered, answering his prying questions and eventually feeling bold enough to ask your own. He listened to you tell him your frustrations with work, your family. You were surprised at everything you were revealing to him. You were even more surprised by how light you felt talking to him, as if he had solved your problems from just listening to them.

The hours passed and you were both almost done with the bottle. He shared relatively little about himself and you were both frustrated and intrigued. He learned it was your first time doing anything like this and you learned it was his as well. When you could look away from his eyes, you let your eyes roam. You wondered what his hands would feel like on your body, if his arms were as strong as they looked. You imagined your hands tracing the tattoos on his head as it lay between your thighs.

Shit.

You refocused on his eyes and it’s as if he knew what you were thinking. Had they changed color? You wanted to see for yourself. The uncharacteristic boldness seemed to still pump through your veins as you decided to do something about it. Setting your glass on the table, you stood, allowing yourself to get a closer look. You walked towards him, unsure of his expression but not seeing anything that told you to stop.

You were in front of him, lowering your body as you placed your hands on his knees. The blue in his eyes seemed even deeper, drawing you in as you hovered your face inches from his. What did you have to lose? “Kiss me,” you whispered, your eyes moving from his to his lips.

His mouth twitched in a soft smile before he closed the distance, bringing your face to his. It was surprisingly soft, your lips pressing into his. Cautiously, you let your tongue trace his bottom lip before he brought his to meet yours. The kiss was slow and heavy, pulling a moan out of you that you didn’t even know was there.

He pulled away suddenly, your body leaning closer to his, your hands sliding further up his thighs. “What do you want?” he asked suggestively, moving his hands to your waist. In response you put your lips back on his, continuing where he abruptly left off.

His hands tightened on your waist and he pulled you to him, sliding his hands to the back of your thighs to help you on the chair. You moved your hands to his chest as your knees straddled either side of him. Your kisses continued as his hands moved to your hips. Squeezing, he moved his hips against you. Your dress was around your waist at this point, the only thing separating you was your panties his pants.

The friction felt amazing and you found yourself grinding against him, losing yourself when you felt the groan through his chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck and moved your lips to his jaw as your breathing increased, your hips helping you chase your release.

Ragnar’s hands moved up your body, running up your back before grabbing your hair and pulling your head back. You let out a gasp of surprise before his lips found your neck, his tongue slowly making his way to your ear.

“Are you close?” his thick voice whispered in your ear, setting fire to your nerves. You nodded, your eyes shut tight as you ground into him harder. He had grown since you started and you definitely took notice. “Look at me.” You did, barely opening your eyes as you watched Ragnar, the intensity in his eyes making your breath catch in your throat.

He took in your half-lidded eyes, your breasts peeking over your dress, and it was all he could do not to pull you to the floor and take you then and there. He wouldn’t have touched you at all if you hadn’t come over to him, your mouth asking to be kissed. He watched your thoughts all night, but he didn’t want to scare you away. Now here you were, seconds from falling apart on top of him. And your clothes were still on.

You felt as if you had been creeping closer and closer to the edge and finally you were over, collapsing against him as your moans tore through you. Your legs shook softly as your hips still moved slowly against him adding spikes to your release.

The waves calmed and you slowed, taking in your breath and Ragnar’s hands holding you to him. They felt just as good as you thought. You weren’t sure what to expect next. When you felt calm, you sat up, pushing your hair behind your ears. The excitement had waned and the alcohol had set in so all you really wanted to do was sleep.

“Tired?” He still had his hand on your back, gently running his fingers up and down. You nodded. “You can stay here, if you want.” You absolutely did, not feeling quite ready to say good bye. After a beat, you nodded again.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, as per his instructions, and he carried you to the bed. You weren’t certain what his intentions were, and he must have felt you tense up because he reminded you that he didn’t want you to do anything you didn’t want to do.

The bed was soft and you immediately felt yourself drifting off. “Are you glad you came?” Ragnar asked as he prepared to shut the door and return to his book. You smiled at his little joke, gently nodding your head with your eyes closed. You were already looking forward to next time.

#vikings #vikings imagine #vikings fanfic #vikings fanfiction #ragnar #ragnar lothbrok #ragnar x reader #ragnar fanfic #ragnar fanfiction #ragnar imagine #ragnar lothbrok fanfic #ragnar lothbrok fanfiction #ragnar lothbrok imagine #ragnar lothbrok x reader #smut #vikings smut #ragnar smut

277 notes · View notes

ihteshamtawakkal · 6 years ago

Text

He Lived.

A sunny morning in the bleak midwinter, everybody must be out in the backyards or lawns to relish the sunshine, to feel how the warmth pierces the heart of one and melts all the worries inside. Only he was still wrapped in blanket, shivering from the coldness of his thoughts, the blue tint of the curtains upon the room did shower the low-key sunlight but he wasn't welcoming cosiness, although it did weaken him a bit about his plans for today. His mind felt like limitless pieces of a torn paper whirling in a pool of blood and dissolving yet staying afloat, just a never-ending whirlpool he could not comprehend but only could pour it out in tears. After a while the light disappeared as the sun hid between a group of thuggish clouds jelly from the happiness the light spread but oh did they look beautiful, for the one truly blessed with true sight, it was no less a spectacle, the castles of clouds that obeyed no rules of architecture. He decided it was the time to get up, for it wouldn't be so hard to leave bed this last time, however, the bed pulled him all in, much stronger than ever before. He heard his mum out there in the kitchen probably making breakfast. He jumped out of the bed and walked slowly like a ghoul towards the bathroom. The splashes of water upon his face was like a mask he was about to put on just to hide the cracks on his broken face so nobody could witness the excruciating pain underneath. He walked out of the room and saw his mum smiling, she had cooked him his favourite for breakfast, he sat on the table like he was forced to - his mind still grinding with the whirlpool of sadness, he smiled back, he did not want to be rude as this could be the last exchange of affection between him and his angelic mum. For once in his life, he could not stomach his favourite meal, unable to digest as every bite stuck in his throat that dried from the fear of his intentions.

Before going out he went into his room again to wear something that'd help fight off the wind, as for cold, he had enough in his veins to wrangle first. In his cupboard he saw the salmon pink hoody he took from his friend, he remembered that she also loved it equally but could not turn him down when he asked for it. He felt a little better looking at it and chose to wear it as his last tribute to their friendship. He said goodbye out loud before going out today, it all felt normal yet peculiar at the same time. He stood before the door outside, took a deep breath and looked admiringly to the sky, the clouds, oh! the castles of love and the symbols of romanticism spreading far and wide upon the plain light blue and a sky full of hope. Trees blowing slowly with the winter breeze, shooing and singing a melancholic yet motivating melody, the droplets of water upon the yellow autumn leaves dazzling like the truth he was in no mood to comprehend, some leaves still bright green but all so beautiful, a carpet of rustling leaves blowing hither and thither onto the pavements. He could not afford to give in to the temptations of the marvellous nature, he had to be susceptible this once. He walked out slowly into the street, looking around to observe what he might've been missing for years, what he must’ve always missed before, he opened his eyes for it today. He saw his neighbour teen standing in her lawn, petting a dark Egyptian Mau. He was an introvert and starting a chat with the opposite gender wasn't his strong spot but he felt different today, walked a bit further and noticed her passing to him a friendly smile, he turned around directing his eyes upon the new cat and asked her about it because he recalled that she had only a brown Scottish one, she replied, that this one she found outside shivering, looking for a cosy spot worriedly, so she took the cat for vetting and now this one is also her pet. All morning he didn't a felt a much stronger wave of warmth, his mother's smile was divine beyond his comprehension but this he felt right underneath his skin. "Maybe I should've stayed at home today, mum would be alone all day and HELL I am going to leave her alone for the rest of her life, that alluring smile of hers was an indication enoug-Don't think back - what are you doing dummy?" He felt a war waging in his head, the awful cries and devilish smiles, whatever was happening up there was the reason he wanted to put an end to all this. He felt an iron chain pulling him back but the rush of eagerness and angriness got the better of him so he walked this time with more energy, the energy retained from the restlessness that he could put into a use much creative but it was all a mess, difficult to differentiate good from bad.

He was headed towards the trees on the far side of the town, through where passes a cargo train twice a day, he'd be there by noon right before the first pass. He wasn't even clear to himself about his intentions - a boy too sensitive for this world, fragile and naive, how could he be so brave and take a step so big but then again this bravery was just another extraordinary expression for stupidity. A bit further ahead, he saw a guy with a wide smirk on his face, moving with fast exciting pace towards him.

"Heya mate!" The guy said with excitement.

"Hy! How are you doing?" He replied with the enthusiastic kindness which he had towards almost everybody, he was totally not in the mood to talk and neither wanted anyone to interrupt his quiet walk towards the end of his chaos. "Be kind to everybody, you have no idea what battles within, the other person might be going through" his mind whispered to him, and this is what he believed, it was obviously because he knew the feelings, he had his battles that nobody cared about - only he wanted to be the change, he wanted to give to others what he never received from them.

"Read your blog last night, it was marvellous, you are fantastic at whatever you get your hands on." The guy commended with a pleasing and unbreakable grin on his face.

"Well, thank you mate, really means a lot" he replied, while slightly bowing in gratitude. It did felt amazing but he hated it right now.

He excused himself and continued walking down his path, everything was going too fast and it made him angry, this fast would be norm to everybody else, although his brain had been used to witnessing everything in a slow motion, unbearably slow with no sound at all. Every hurtful expression floating and happiness orbitally moving away and away at every pass. The weather turned a bit chilly, a faster wind blew making a breezy shoo sound with all the trees elastically moving along with it, this sound however pleasing to others was a shriek that the nature joined his brain in screaming out loud together, he felt oneness but all of a sudden he also felt more exhausted, like his body had used all the vigour for a shriek which he never actually screamed, he wanted to cry now but it'd let it all out and he most certainly wanted to treasure it today, a treasure so heavy that could sink his ship to the bottom of Atlantic. He felt like he was caged by the webs of spider and something heavy was hitting him from the above. Suddenly, the sky poured down on him, he felt a rush of relieve down his nerves, the heavy drops had washed everything away, liberating his mind from the webs that strangled him, the sky only showered flowers now and nothing else, the droplets running down his cheeks and those felt just like the tears of happiness but what a relieving illusionary concept it was. Whoever saw him walk down like this must've thought he was off his head but that was the least of his concern, he wasn't in the right mind and that you could say was true because it was exactly the reason for him to be so chaotic all this time. He always felt like there were stones falling outrageously upon him, that he kept fighting with, kept standing up to it but finally he had given up like the entire sky fell on him, he now decided to stay down forever and never get back up, as of today - the day on which he wanted to get rid of himself for he could never handle the raging storms within himself, came the calm, those droplets came upon him like a beautiful omen from the universe, he loved rain be it in the winter or summers, he felt everything going backwards, making him stand back up or rise from his ashes, stronger than ever before.

It was quite a while now, after that the rain took a halt, no more sound of water droplets collapsing down upon the earth, everything slowed down to the quiet of nature. He saw a bench on a short distance, it was wet but the sun came up, directly glazing upon the wooden bench, making it look like a centre of the attention, to be taken into focus while everything else blurred out, he saw it perfect for him to sit down, so he did. A deep breath and every chaotic thought, every bad intention, all gushed down, all the tics in his head went quiet, he sat there thinking but had nothing to think about, the overflowing, demented notions nowhere to be found, but just the ravishing smile of his mother, nothing but just that. The time flew like and with the breeze of after rain, and he suddenly heard the gradually increasing sound of blaring engine and horn of the train from in the trees behind, and it passed in the blink of an eye. you could never tell now - if it was too late for him, or too early.

14 notes · View notes

taetae-tea · 7 years ago

Text

Romanticism

⋙Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, College!au

⋙Paring: JinXreader

⋙Word-count: 5.9K

⋙Warnings: abusive childhood (bullies), praise-kink, grinding, cum play, slight impregnate-kink, moaning, groaning, growling, dirty-talk, oral, unprotected-sex, aftercare

⋙Summary: You played someone to survive, you weren’t yourself. You’ve never been able to really do whatever you want to do, until Jin came along one day.

⋙Request: Hi, This is my first request ever and I would like to ask if you can do NSFW smut on them getting grinding on and what they would do afterwards

⋙A/N: Okay so this was first based on this, but I changed my ways and now it turned into a full story, buT I STILL PUT IN THE GRINDING So no need to hate hihi ly xx

You look out of the window of your apartment, sighing to yourself as long strives of rain made their way down your windows, blocking the great few of the city. You’ve always liked the sight and scent of rain. It calmed you in all the right ways. relaxation you certainly need once in a while.

A sudden noise dragged you back into reality, interrupting the oasis that landed into your body just moments ago. The noise came from your phone, which was located on the coffee table right in front of your half-naked figure. You let out another sigh, this time in a rather irritating manner. But, whatever the message might’ve been, you didn’t have much of a choice but to look at it. Socializing, they call it. Yeah sure, but for you it’s a way to survive.

Park: I’ve planned a party tomorrow evening. It begins at 8 pm and ends at whatever time you plan to leave😉 It’s at the BT dorms. Notify me when you bring more people with you!

You sigh for the third time this fine evening. Though parties aren’t that bad and sometimes they are actually quite enjoyable, it’s still not your ideal night.

You: Will be there😘

You throw your phone somewhere randomly on the couch. You close your eyes for a small second, trying to find back the calming vibes you had picked up minutes ago, but it’s hard to find them back when the only thing you can think of is: what am I going to wear tomorrow?

‘So you’re coming tonight? Not that I’m surprised.’ Jimin says excitingly to you as he sat down on the seat besides you. You nod and flashed him a smile, fake, I should add. He grinned back before unpacking his textbook for this subject, which happens to be Art History.

This class never really interested you, well not as the fake you then. The real you loves the subject, but not like it’s something you would ever show to the world. But, this era in the art books does seem to be one of your favorite times in the history of art. It’s the time of Romanticism, right in the middle of the industrialization, ironically enough. It’s when society looked for a better place, to forget the ‘now’, to forget the horribleness of the reality. The is rain to you is just like the paintings in those times, an escape from the ‘now’ and to create your own world.

‘Y/N, what aspects from Romanticism can you find back in this painting?’ Your art-class teacher asked you. She ripped you from your thoughts right on that moment and you felt caught for not listening. But, since you understand this epoch in the art-history quite well, your answer came out as an reflection.

‘By the mysterious theme and nature that is almost overpowering, you can clearly tell it’s from The Romantic era.’

‘Can you go deeper into your answer?’ Your teacher asks and you can see the frown of surprise, not used to you being so knowledgeable. You can see how she thinks you just be reading something out of the book and somewhere, it boosted you to tell her your knowledge.

‘Yes of course miss. Because they wanted to escape reality, nature came into few pretty fast. Nature has nothing to do with the reality of the humans, it goes its own beautiful way. Mystery was also a way to express the beautifulness of the unknown. The known in that time was something like the industry, the so called reality which they were so desperate to not see.’

The class was shocked and you heard a few people whisper. Even Jimin didn’t point out a remark. You weren’t popular for your smart remarks, you were actually popular for your dumb remarks. So, hearing you speak something that could define intelligence was aught to be the gossip of the school. It almost made you roll your eyes, almost. But you correct yourself and you smile in a shy manner.

‘My mother used to be a fan of this era, that’s why.’ You immediately try to explain and your teacher nods slowly, but she knew that wasn’t true, since your mother wasn’t even there when you were young. But to be faire, your teacher isn’t the most normal pall in this school, like all other art-teachers.

‘Well, you were entirely correct. Well done!’ She smiles and you nod as you return the gesture.

The class went by slowly, like every class does. Your little outburst of knowledge was soon to be forgotten besides a few complements of your classmates while leaving the class. Jimin didn’t know how to react, so he parted ways quite fast when you were just out of the classroom.

‘I have to go plan some stuff y/n, see you tonight! He had yelled before disappearing into the crowd. You just shrug before making your way to your locker.

But just as you were going to make a turn left, someone grabbed your wrist and stopped you mid-tracks.

You frown and spin yourself around to see the intruder. It’s someone you don’t recognize, but he should be someone you would recognize. Plumb lips, soft skin, handsome features, tall and incredibly build. As an instinct, you put on a flirtatious voice.

‘How may I help you mister handsome?’ You say as you winked at him, something that always does the trick with boys. It looks like he didn’t give one damn about your doings and just began to talk himself.

‘There is an exhibition tonight of a famous Romanticism-artist. The person who I ment to go with bailed on me, so do you want to come with me?’ He held up two tickets and when you look closer, big letters ‘Casper David Friedrich’ your eyes went wide and a smile crept up your face out of excitement.

‘Fuck how did you get these? I’ve been trying to get tickets for months already-.’ You stopped yourself before you could go on further. You shake your head no, reminding yourself you shouldn’t get too excited. That’s not who you are, your identity, or who you’re trying to be.

‘I would love to, I mean,’ you correct yourself and the handsome guy looks at you with a frown. He didn’t understand the change in your behavior and to his surprise, he felt drawn to you because of that. What are you hiding?

‘Wait, fuck, until how late is the exhibition?’

‘Uhm, until 10 I think, it’s at the city nearby.’ He explains and you nod to yourself. You could still make it to Jimin’s party after that, some people come 2 hours late, casually. Right?

But then again, what happens when they find out? You can’t have your whole reputation thrown away by just one extraordinary night with an handsome guy. There with, you don’t know this guy, what if they will think you’re easy? That will ruin you, just like it did many years ago.

‘I-I don’t know.’ You sigh, scratching your head as you look around you, trying to see any people whispering about you already. ‘I barely know you and I have a party this evening too...’

‘You did seem to be pretty serious about this art style, I really thought you were interested.’ He said, leaning against the wall besides the both of you. His face taunts you, he knew you were lying and not to him, to yourself. It feels like he could see right through the popular barrier.

‘I-... I mean yes, but I don’t know if I’ll make it to the party and-.’

‘Here.’ He grabs your hand softly and places one of the tickets in your hand. He closes your fingers around it and showed you a small smile. ‘I’ll be there at 7, if you aren’t there around that time, I’ll walk in myself.’ He tells you and you nod, enchanted by his movements and you could feel your heart skip a beat when he touched your hands.

‘I do hope to see you tonight y/n.’

Those were his last words before disappearing into the crowd of walking college students. You clench your jaw as you didn’t knew what to do. To take a risk, or to stay in your comfort-zone, somewhere you knew everything was going to be as planned.

That day didn’t went any better after the handsome beauty had visited you. You didn’t knew what to do, what would be the best plan. Frankly, you can’t ask anyone for help, not a single person who knew your real identity. Not a simple person who knew that you weren’t outgoing, happy and refreshing. Under this skin of popularity, you were scarred of the past.

The fact that you loved different things, made life an hell. You never wanted to go out, you didn’t feel the need to. You never made friends, simply because you knew they weren’t right for you. But all those things made you fragile and an easy target for those who bullied.

Those memories were there everyday to remind you. It reminded you to this time make friends, go out and do what every college student does. It’s surviving and there with the best option you have.

Namjoon: Heard you’ll be going to the party tonight😏

Namjoon: Why don’t we finish what we started at the last one hm?

You roll your eyes, knowing exactly what Namjoon is going for. You look at the clock, reading 6 pm. Your heart is pounding loudly in your chest as you felt frustrated. You still haven’t made your choice this 6 hours you’ve gotten it. Your heart longed for the exhibition and the mystery guy, while your mind knew that the party was your best option.

It’s something you couldn’t make up, couldn’t reason. Why did you feel the urge to be popular? Why is it that you can’t actually enjoy life simply because of this unspoken thing inside of you? The answer is simple, but something you won’t admit. Fear. It’s fear that drove you to do the things you don’t want to do.

You: sounds perfect😉

Namjoon: That’s my baby girl😘

You shudder by the gross feeling. Sure, Namjoon is handsome and has a good set of brains, but he isn’t your lover. And the fact you’ll maybe sure a bed with him tonight, made you sick. Really, what are you doing with your life?

You look back at the clock again and 5 minutes have past.

Namjoon: Fuck I’m already hard thinking about you😩💦 can you maybe show me some pics of your outfit tonight bby?😏

You stared at the screen and it’s at that point you knew you didn’t want this. It’s like your mind and heart finally sinked for a slight moment and before you knew, you were dressing yourself up. Your put on black jeans with a turtle neck, a coat and some boots. You got your camera out of a shell, somewhere you haven’t been for years and you even had to un-dust the thing before pulling the string around your neck.

Them you left and went on your way to the exhibition, no doubts and thoughts to hold you back. For once, you follow the path your heart leads you.

‘y/n! You’re here!’ The handsome anonymous approached you and you gave him a nod, smiling shyly. His features really is something to take in every time, and you can say anything about him, but his lips do look kissable.

‘Yes of course! How can I not.’ You exclaim as you both made your way to the entrance. You gave your tickets to the guard, which approves and lets you in with a smile.

‘Well, you have a party tonight remember?’ He reminds you, but you shrug. ‘I guess that has to wait for once.’ You say before turning around and blocking him for walking further. ‘But before we continue, handsome stranger, what is your name?’

He laughs at your cute act and he holds himself back to ruffle your hair. ‘Isn’t some mystery funny? We’re at a romantic exhibition anyways, it’s what the era stands for. But you’d know right?’ He says with a little smirk and you scoff, now folding your arms over one another. ‘Look, we aren’t in the 19th century sister. You better give me a name before I will just call you dickhead.’ His laugh that followed couldn’t be any more beautiful and he shook his head slightly, not believing the words that left your mouth.

‘My name in Kim Seokjin, but you can just call me Jin.’ He introduces himself and you nod with an happy smile. You turn around again and excitingly called for him to follow you, because oh my god, you just caught a glimpse of a painting that is worth at least a million. Of course you have to take photo’s of it.

The night went on like a train, something you haven’t felt in years. It’s so pure and gentle, the kind of pleasurable feeling you’re receiving from this evening. It feels addicting. Addicted to your own likings, your own thoughts and addicted to him. He is the reason for you to feel this free is such a long time already, it almost feels like magic.

But, magic has to stay magic and shouldn’t interfere with reality. This has to be a one night thing, something to look back on.

‘Ahh, that was amazing’ Jin says as he stretches his arms above him, noting you it was quite tiring too. You’ve walked a lot, taken a lot of pictures and the conversation you had were too good. You talked about anything that came up into your minds and surprisingly, the way you both thought was quite similar. Jin is different than any man you’ve met in the past few years and you don’t want to lose him just yet. You want to savor this feeling for just a bit longer before you return into the real world you’ve escaped tonight.

‘You still going to that party?’ He asks you as you arrived at a nearby busstation. You shake your head no. If there is anything you don’t want, it must be to ruin your mood.

‘So you’re free for the rest of the night?’ His face lit up like a child given its candy. You chuckled before giving him and answer. ‘Yes you’re right about that.’

He hums into the quiet evening air, not a single car driving on the road since it’s just a little side track no one takes except this very bus.

‘How about we get some pizza and some drinks, get to your place and have a relaxing night?’ He asks and you couldn’t decline. The way his eyes tingle and his big smile was very much visible under the dim lights, you felt your heart ache in all the good ways.

‘Great.’

‘Indeed great.’

[8:46pm]Namjoon: y/n where are you?

[8:51pm]Namjoon: you’re hiding aren’t ya😏

[8:53pm]Namjoon: I don’t mind to play a game anyways💦💦

[9:30pm]Park: where u at?

[9:45pm]Park: y/n?

[9:47pm]Namjoon: yo, are you really not coming?

[10:15pm]Namjoon: whatever, I’ll just fuck some other chick

[10:30pm]Park: Namjoon is really looking for you, you know. Kinda a dick move to bail on him like that.

The messages stream in when you turn on your phone again, just when you arrived home. Jin was just setting up the coffee table as you sighed because of the messages.

‘Who are they?’ Jin asked as he had read a few names on your screen before settling down beside you. ‘My real life.’ You sigh, putting away your phone as you chose to ignore the two names in your phone. Jin frowns before grabbing a pizza slice and sitting back, waiting for you to explain.

When you didn’t react any further, he decides to ask you the question himself. ‘Then what am I?’

‘A dream.’ You answer and you stare outside the window again, hoping for drips to fall down, to calm you. You hate confrontation, it’s the one thing you’re bad at. Really bad at. You always try to escape the room, but you knew you couldn’t do this with Jin, he deserves your time, your explanation. He had send you the best day of your life and thereby you are very thankful.

‘And I can’t be your reality?’ He asks, voice softer and caring. He wasn’t hurt, he knew something was up with you. You are broken and in need of help, to be healed. He is happy to help you with that.

‘No, you can’t. You must be a dream.’ You feel yourself tear up as you still didn’t see any water drips falling out of the sky. You try to hold yourself hard, but when you feel a hand on your back making circles in your skin and a voice telling you it’s okay to cry, you began crying your eyes out.

All the stress, all the bullshit just came streaming out of your body as tears. Jin didn’t embrace you and just kept making little circles in your skin as he praised you.

‘Good job, let it all out sweetheart.’

It must’ve taken you at least half an hour until there were no tears left and you had leaned your head against his shoulder. He didn’t force you to tell, why you were so broken. He didn’t thought it was his business. The only thing he cared about, was your future and if he was going to be in it.

‘I’m sorry for my outburst.’ You whisper and he chuckled. ‘Don’t worry, I don’t mind. But the food is cold now though.’ He remarks and you huff, slapping his chest for ruining the mood. ‘Jesus, give me a sec, I’ll warm it up-.’

‘No, don’t. I want to stay like this.’ He stops your movements and held you close to his body. If it wasn’t for him, you would’ve bolded out of that situation. You don’t like it when guys are too touchy too fast. But, Jin is different. He feels like home to you, someone you can trust. So needless to say that you staid in his arms.

You ended up cuddling on the couch, you being between his legs as he had put on the tv, eating cold pizza because the both of you still felt hungry.

‘You know that I never went to a public school when I was younger?’ Jin suddenly said and you frown, shaking your had.

‘I went to private schools and had to do what people told me to do. I wasn’t myself and I wasn’t allowed to be too.’ His arms tighten around your waist, tensing as he exposed his own story. You place your hand on his arms to sooth him as you urge him to go on.

‘I ran away 2 years ago and went to different colleges to pursue my own dreams, which is to be an art-teacher.’ He told you and you smile. You could see him teaching Youngers his own love and passion and you felt so intrigued in that. You yourself never thought of your dream career, it’s still to be found out.

‘The sadness of being forced to be someone else is the same sadness I felt with you. I don’t know if I’m right or wrong, but I think I understand you.’ And just like that, he had figured you out. You widen your eyes as everything suddenly became too real and you had to create some distance between the both of you. You didn’t know what to do, you can’t let him into your reality, you will only drag him down with you.

But what if you really escaped everything, like the the artists did on their paintings. Go away like Jin once did, begin a new life, again, but then the right way? To begin as yourself and not to pretend to be someone else.

‘Jin, should we run away together?’

The question left your mouth before you could really think twice about it. Jin only stared at you for a long time, looking for any dishonesty, but when he couldn’t find it, he grabbed your cheek and brought you closer to him. His lips were in an instant on yours as his lips softly massaged against yours and you responded vastly, grabbing his neck to bring him closer. The kiss was slow and sensual, something so perfect in this situation.

‘Hell yeah.’ He sighs against your lips, a smile on his face as he pulled you back again. You giggle slightly, feeling so happy in his arms.

It didn’t take him long before he pulled you on his lap, you grinding against his crotch as the kiss grew hotter. His hands dig into the skin of your hips, guiding you over his half-hard cock and making you moan in the process. The kiss escalated into a sloppy one, tongues massaging against each other and teeth colliding.

‘Fuck y/n, are you sure? Do you have any condoms?’ He shots questions at you as he halts you. But lucky for him, you are on the pill and with a rock of you hips you let him know him, smirk visible on your lips.

‘Fuck.’ He curses under his breath as he threw his head back, his delicious neck visible and ready to be marked.

You immediately dive down to plant your lips on the crook of his neck and sucked purple marks all over the place and he grabbed your waist by your action.

‘We’re not doing this here.’ He groans and you look up at him questionable, but he was already lifting you up and walking you to the bedroom you guided him to. He let you fall on the un-made bed and you giggle as you bounce slightly, making him flash a smile too.

‘You’re so beautiful y/n, just like you. Not like anyone else but you.’ He tells you while looking down at you in aw and you give him a smile in response. ‘You aren’t that bad too, handsome.’ You tease and he huffs, shaking his head as he places himself between your legs.

‘Let’s first get rid of these.’ He murmurs when undoing your jeans and pulling them down and off. He did the same with your turtle neck sweater. He groans when he sees the matching lacy black underwear you choose to wear this morning. You smirk at him, loving his reaction and seeing how his erection seems a little more painful in his own jeans.

‘You like it?’

‘A little bit too much I might add.’ He winks at you and you couldn’t hold yourself back but to pull him closer to you again.

This feels so different. All this time you had to fake your interrest, to fake your feelings for another guy. But now, with Jin, you felt different. You want him to fuck you, you want him to love you and spend time with you. First, you thought he might be just a dream, but slowly he is becoming a real dream. A dream what is getting more and more addicting and maybe, hopefully, will be your reality some day.

When the kiss grows hot again and he starts the grind his hips down against your entrance, you moaned loudly and reached down for his dipper. He helped you vastly and undid his trousers, pulling them down and letting them fall off the bed. When you then reach down agin, you felt his boxers and then outline of his heavy cock in your hand. He groans into the kis and jerks his hips up for more friction.

‘So needy, aren’t we.’ You whisper into his ear and you got a light smack on your ass in return. ‘Oh shut up.’ He returns and smiles down at you after disconnecting again.

Your hand now sneaks into his boxers and pulled them down slightly to expose his throbbing cock, pre-cum already leaking. You hum in content, drooling by the sight and sending waves of warmth straight down to your centre.

‘You like what you see?’ He now returns the question with a cocky smirk and you just nod. ‘A bit too much I might add.’

He got his hands on the edge of his shirt and pulled it up and off, revealing his toned figure and you couldn’t resist but to touch. You finger traced the lines of his abs and it awakened cute little goosebumps.

‘You’re so beautiful, Jin.’ You sigh and he smiles back at you, now also getting rid of his boxers, being fully exposed to you. You pull him down back on the bed with you as you just needed him to be close to you, to feel his warmth.

He slides his cock against your clothed slit, making you squirm on your place. He chuckles against your hair, making you shiver only more and you moaned for him to touch you.

‘Can I take this off?’ He asks when his hands hook around your underwear and you nod, telling him to go on. He does so and the moment also your bra was located on the ground, he just stared at your naked body right in front of him. He literally didn’t know where to look and touch.

‘Fuck... I could get used to this.’ He groans. He leans down between your thighs, hooking your legs around his shoulders and immediately licked his way up your slit, tasting you for the first time. You moan loudly as you finally felt some relieve between your legs.

‘So delicious, baby girl.’ He growls and before you knew, he was eating you out. His lips working against your slit like he is kissing you and hand making circling around your clit to make you completely lose your mind. Your hips rock against his hand as you chased his movements and before you could register, the familiar heath began to form into your belly.

‘Omg, Jin. You’re so good.’ You whine and he groans in response as he swore your moans are the most beautiful things he ever heard. He then added a finger into your entrance as it followed the pace of his other hand on your clit.

‘You want to be stretched out good baby?’ He asks and you nod furiously, head thrown back as he adds another finger into you.

‘You want to be stretched out good for me right? For my cock to fill you up just nicely.’ He says and it was then that your climax approached very fast. His words, his movements, his fingers and his tongue. It all got you to the edge pretty fast and when he groaned loudly against your slit upon seeing you vulnerable like this, you climaxed.

You almost saw blurry as the cum flew out of you and you felt dizzy of the intensity. Jin bumped his fingers for a short while further before letting go and sitting up right, looking at your fucked-out figure. It was a sin to witness, but still oh so delicious.

When you look up, you couldn’t help but to moan slightly as you see Jin’s face slightly covered under your juices and lips swollen. His eyes are dark and when you look down, you see his hand guiding itself over his hard cock.

‘Jin, fuck me already.’ You whine and like that was the que, he opened your legs wide apart for him to fit in between. He lined himself in front of your entrance, giving you a last few glances before finally pushing inside.

Your arms reach around him as you push him close against you, moaning as he stretched you out further than you had expected. You throw your head back as the stretch was somewhat burning and painful, but by the soothing words of Jin, you managed to calm down.

‘Tell me if it’s too much, or if you’re uncomfortable. We’ll stop if so.’ He managed to tell through groans, created by his own waves of pleasure he is feeling by your tightness. You nod slightly as you just hug your body close to his, knowing that you will eventually grow used to the feeling.

You connect your lips again, slowly moving against one another to distract you from the pain. He slips a few praises through the kiss, telling you you’re doing great and that you’re so tight around him.

‘J-Jin, you can move.’ You tell him and he didn’t wait a second longer and pushed out of you slightly before pushing back in, making a little pace onto you as he groans against your ear.

‘Fuck y/n... So fucking tight for me.’ He growls and honestly, that’s the most sexy thing you’ve ever heard one speak to you. Your nails dig into his back as he finally made harder and deeper thrusts.

The way he breathes loudly against your ear and how your could feel every inch of him constantly entering you, made you slightly dizzy as the familiar warmth returned into your belly.

Jin eventually began to rock his hips into yours and his balls slapped against your bottom by the force. He held himself up on his arms, which were located beside your head as he looked down at you, seeing your breasts bounce and moans leaving your throat.

‘So beautiful.’ He whispers out and right on that moment he found your g-spot, sending you right into heaven. You throw back your head and arched yourself into his body, calling for him to go on, fuck you harder and harder.

He grabbed your legs and pushed them forward, your knees right beside your head as he speeds up his pace more, now having more room to hit that one special spot within you. You could only make out short and high-pitched moans as the pleasure almost became unbearable.

‘You’re gonna cum baby?’ Jin asks as he feels you clench around his cock and when you nod, he places his fingers on your clit, triggering your climax right then and you let out a long cry in respons.

Jin kept is pace, chasing his own high as he felt your cum around his dick as well as your clenching walls. It only took him a few more hard thrusts until he came into your pussy, sperm coating your walls and thrusting them deeper into you.

If the climax wasn’t enough, the added feeling of his cock inside of you and cum spurting onto your walls made you cringe from the overstimulation. You had to grab his hips to halt them before you really were going to feel uncomfortable and of course he immediately halted his moves.

‘Are you okay baby?’ He asks out of concern, hands now letting go of your legs and letting them back down on the bed. He grabbed your waist and made soothing circles into the skin, making you smile up at him.

‘Yeah, just got overstimulated for a second.’ You confess and he pouts, telling you to react quicker when that happens. You just shake your head and push him back down and the both of you groan when you feel him slide further into you again. He can’t resist but to thrusts a few times more, burrying his cum deeper inside of you and making sure it wont spill out.

‘Are you trying to impregnate me mister Kim?’ You tease him and he just shrugs. ‘It just feels right, having you all filled with my cum.’ He murmurs against your neck. You slap his back with your hand as you feel embarrassed by his words.

‘Shut up.’ You murmur back and he huffs, now slowly sliding out of you and giving a little peck on your nose when you hissed of the feeling.

‘I’ll get you cleaned, wait.’ He says before rushing off outside. You laugh as you hear him walking around, knowing he is looking for your bathroom.

‘At the end of the hall, left.’ You say loudly and you hear him stand still before thanking you and walking to his destination.

When he returned, he had a warm towel in his hand and asked you to open your legs again. You did say and to be completely honest, this has never happened to you. All the guys you’ve been aren’t didn’t do cleaning afterwards, they most likely fall asleep.

‘Your face is still red, ore is that because I’m doing this for you right now?’ He asks, a cocky smirk back on his lips. You just look away as his cleans up your cum-coated slit and inner thighs.

‘Nobody ever did this to me.’ You murmur and he let out an irritated sigh. ‘Clearly you haven’t met a real gentleman yet.’ He said as he finished up and got rid of the towel.

‘Until today of course.’ You remark at him and he chuckles at that. ‘Well, I simply know it must not feel all that nice to have dried-up cum between your legs the next morning.’ And he surely is right, that shit sucks balls.

He laid himself beside you as he tucked the both of you under the blankets. He pulled you close as you rest your head against his chest, your limbs tangled up in one another. His heartbeat is slow and soothing, letting you feel calm and peaceful, something you never felt in a company with a guy before.

‘Do you really want to run away? With me?’ He suddenly asks and you nod. You are one hundred procent sure. Your heart and head both knew that this was the best option. You weren’t happy in your current life, it was almost just as bad as you life before college. With this beautiful stranger you only met today, you felt comfortable and yourself. That was what you wanted all along, to be yourself and to feel happy. Jin gave you the opportunity to be that someone.

‘I have never felt this happy before in my life, I don’t feel happy in this place. I want to run away with you and start a better life.’

And there with, it was decided.

The next morning you both packed your stuff, only the most needed things in life to travel. You signed off of your campus and said goodbye on all your social media account.

[5:49pm]Park: So basically, you’ve pretended to be someone because of your horrible past? I’ve many questions but I don’t want the answers simply because I don’t care. The only thing I care for is your happiness and I hope you will find it. Sorry for the things I’ve put you through, only if I’d known... we’ve all loved you, just so you know! Goodbye y/n☺️🌸

‘Who are you texting? i thought you deleted everyone?’

‘Jealous already?’ You smirk at Jin, who is driving you towards another place. Somewhere far away and far from reality. He is driving you to a dream you will be living and a dream you always hoped to live one day.

‘How about in-n-out?’

‘Hell yeah.’

286 notes · View notes

supergirlimaginesfic-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Lena Luthor x reader (No more masks, I won’t hold back)

Request: "The candy is for the trick or treaters not you, quit eating it all " with lena

a/n: HAPPY HALLOWEEN you wonderful ghouls and pals of mine! Whether you celebrate it or not, have a kickass day, stay safe, and do all the things you want to do, no matter what it is that makes you happy - today and all the days!!! :D

Anyway... how was THAT for an episode that we just watched?? I am STILL reeling about all the Supergirl Ladies content we are having and I have never felt so ALIVE!!!

Here’s a short cute one for y’all though! I freaking LOVE domestic Lena alright!! I swear it is the greatest concept and not only does she deserve this, but we too also Deserve This. Now also imagine Lena having to deal with someone who has approximately zero impulse control?? That’s you this time LMAO. Happy Halloween and happy Tuesday!!

- - - - -

There were only two occasions you ever looked forward to in your life, and since your birthday wasn’t considered a national holiday by the nation yet (how rude of them honestly) you had to settle for the next best thing.

Autumn was your favourite season - you romanticized every single aspect of it that could possibly be cherished to the high heavens and back again. The crunch of leaves on sidewalks under your boots, and leather jacket and sweater weather made you come alive when the rest of nature around you was settling down and shedding.

The colours around you and the anticipation of keeping away indoors to stay warm - it was what kept you going, to say the least.

Even the pumpkin flavoured everything you didn’t bat an eyelash at, and so often some of your friends have expressed their ire of your tendency to go overboard with the festivities.

How could you have helped yourself if it was just simply more fun to act like a suburban housewife and decorate your entire house in Halloween decorations and buy an army’s worth of candy rather than to deny yourself the simple happiness of doing so?

Naysayers be damned, you’ll eat your themed cookies and ensure everything from your house to your car to nearly every single orifice of your body smelled of pumpkin, you’ll eat all your Halloween candy and only regret it for the next few days, and you’ll damn well call anything and everything ‘spoopy’ until the retail industry pries it from your cold, dead hands and forces aisles and aisles of Christmas decorations down your throat.

It was also Lena’s first official Halloween, and much to your friends’ amusement and great exasperation, this very fact seemed to make your excitement reach unprecedented heights.

She’s only been your girlfriend for something just over half of a year, but already you could very well say you knew each other well enough to not be so surprised by each other’s funny quirks.

After you finished work you barrelled right through your front door and darted into the shower the instant that you could, throwing on your favourite obnoxiously bright coloured knit sweater and sneaking six packets of candy into your pocket, for later, obviously.

You promised Lena to bring out all the stops for her first Halloween experience, and you were beyond ecstatic that you got to be the one who did this for her.

You were pondering just how lucky you were to have Lena in your life as you laid out the ready to bake Pillsbury pumpkin and ghost cookies before putting them in the oven.

You’d tried convincing Lena that she didn’t need to leave work too early; Halloween is a late affair anyway.

For her part, she seemed just as excited as you about celebrating, perhaps it was your zealous eagerness that was infectious, but more and more Lena was becoming as taken with the day as you were, and you thought it was absolutely adorable.

Still, her text message to you made it evident she was insistent about coming home early to be with you.

Lena: “I let Jess go home early again... I’ll see you soon :)”

you: “was she just as perplexed as she was the last time you told her to go home early?”

Lena: “It seems as though she’s stopped asking questions and just accepted it.”

you: “seems wise, especially considering what you get up to when you do leave early, I imagine she wouldn’t want to know anyway ;)”

Lena: “And you seem to be wanting to push your buttons tonight, what makes you think you’ll get so lucky?”

you: “you are the light of my life and I am more than lucky to take anything you are so gracious to give me, Ms Luthor”

Lena: “Yeah, yeah, I get it. No need to kiss ass, I’ll see you soon babe ;)”

you: “Love you! Can’t wait <3″

You grinned to yourself as you put the cookies in the oven, marvelling at just how easily it is to smile when it comes to your girlfriend.

With nothing much else left to do, you sit down on your couch and peruse through Netflix’s Halloween selection, wondering if you could convince Lena to watch a horror movie with you.

It’s probably about fifteen minutes later and you’re in the middle of the third episode of Mindhunter when you hear the door open and you turn around to catch the figure of your girlfriend by the threshold.

“Hey babe,” you smile broadly as you take notice of her casual clothes.

“Hi yourself, (Y/N),” she says, walking over to your place on the couch as you lean your head back for her to give you a kiss.

She glances at the TV and squints her eyes suspiciously at you, “you started another episode?”

Your eyes widen and you try to hide your sheepish smirk, “no.”

Lena raises a stern eyebrow and you’re becoming less and less successful at hiding your guilty grin.

“I don’t like it when you lie to me, (Y/N).”

She leans down closer to your lips and you can feel her breath. You move up to kiss her but she dodges the move.

“Uh-uh, tell me the truth,” she says slowly.

You stare up at her again, your head leaning back as you gaze at her chastising look upside down. You smile softly to yourself at the sight of her, the teasing and fondness masked behind a veil of reprimand, and you think you zone out for a little bit in a dopey trance when you hear her click her tongue at you in frustration.

“Don’t do that.”

“What? What did I do?”

“How am I supposed to be angry with you if you keep looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” you ask half curiously.

Lena takes a deep breath and a smile forms on her lips, she shakes her head as she grabs your cheeks and kisses you.

“I can never say no to that face of yours, even if you do try to sneak some TV behind my back.”

“I did not,” you grumble petulantly, watching as her eyebrow arches again when she makes her way to sit beside you. “Entirely.”

“Mhm, right,” she remarks with a fond smirk. “How was your day, darling?” She presses up against you and leans her head on your shoulder.

“It was awesome, everyone dressed up which isn’t really something I’d expected. How about you?”

“It was a day... It’s rather difficult to talk Kara out of an idea once she has one, isn’t it?”

“What did she do now?”

“I believe she and Winn had some bet which she lost, so she walked around the office today in one of those inflatable dinosaur costumes that are always circulating the internet?”

You burst into laughter at the thought and wondered how Winn convinced Kara to walk around in an obnoxious costume for a day when her crime-fighting extracurriculurs were to be considered.

“I don’t really think she considered that she could actually lose,” Lena answers your wordless question.

“Those are always the best bets.”

“So what’s on the agenda today? Are you going to make me watch some ridiculous horror movie so I can snuggle up next to you?” Lena asks conspiratorially.

Despite yourself, you blush at the remark and try to hide your grin.

“I was, actually.”

“You’re so transparent,” Lena says, laughing as she moves in to kiss you.

“Not my fault you’re so irresistible,” you retort with a little pout.

Lena levels her look to you and mumbles against your lips, “you don’t need an excuse to hold me, (Y/N).”

“It’s Halloween anyway, what else could get us into the mood-”

Lena interrupts you as she kisses you, moving so she’s straddling you and pushes you into the couch.

“I know plenty that could get us in the mood,” she comments in a low voice.

She grinds softly into you and you groan, your hands moving to her hips as you chase her lips.

The rustling of something Lena’s disrupted distracts her and she looks down at your leg. She eyes your pocket suspiciously before she snaps her eyes up at you.

“Do you seriously have candy in your pocket?”

“No,” your eyes widen and you make a valiant effort to hide the humour in your lie.

“You’re in a dishonest mood today, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it this is my favourite!”

“Darling, I love you, but your sweet tooth is entirely ruining the meaning of ‘assorted candy’. You get to keep whatever is in your pocket for the rest of the night,” she says with a half-serious warning.

“Yes ma’am,” you mutter as you try to tug Lena back towards you.

“Nope,” she says, refusing to let herself be pulled in.

You look at her with your best puppy eyes and make a grand pout, blinking your eyes in utter sadness and deprivation.

“You’re going to burn the cookies. Don’t think you can use me as your excuse for gross negligence,” she remarks with a mischievous smile.

Lena moves back to her seat on the couch and you make a great show of slowly getting up and dragging your feet toward the kitchen, muttering just loud enough so she can hear.

“I guess! I guess I’ll go, I guess! I didn’t want kisses anyway, it’s fine!” you continue until your voice is nothing but a muted lament from the kitchen.

You take the cookies out of the oven, exceedingly impressed by Lena’s timing, no doubt, and you eye the bowl of candy that’s on the kitchen counter next to the tray of cookies.

You move to stick your hand out and you make just the slightest ruffling sound when you hear Lena’s voice calling out to you from the living room.

“The candy is for the trick-or-treaters, not you. Quit eating it all!”

You drop your jaw slightly in surprise and wonder if Lena’s got eyes on the back of her head.

“Hurry up and get back here before we’re interrupted for the remainder of the night and you regret all of your choices.”

You nearly slip in your socks rushing back to Lena, catching that look of amusement that you’ve noticed is becoming a common expression of hers, her eyes crinkled and lips twisted into a subtle smirk as she watches you dive onto the couch beside her.

True to her observation, you’re about half an hour into Friday the 13th Part VI when the beginnings of the never-ending doorbell mark the start of the evening.

You, being the child at heart, are exceedingly impressed by the sheer number of Supergirls you see; pirate Supergirl, zombie Supergirl, you think you see a velociraptor Supergirl to which you were witness to a brief argument of, ‘it’s Halloween I can be whoever I want to be’, and you whispered to the kid your shared affinity for dinosaurs, to which you received a beaming smile.

You can’t help it but you laugh when you see a child dressed in a laughing-crying emoji costume, and it wasn’t long at all before Lena’s become envious of you that she’s joining you at the door.

In between Halloween-goers, you find yourself sat on the stairs and you’re making out with Lena like two teenagers with the house to yourselves before the next doorbell interrupts you, and you always half-heartedly groan at the distraction and Lena dutifully shoves you toward the door.

Once, a solitary scientist shows up at your door, her mother standing a few feet away from her and the small girls looks up at your tall figures.

“Hi, I’m a scientist,” she says, completely opting out of the traditional greeting.

“That’s awesome, you probably need all the energy you can get to save the world, right?” you say as you drop some candy into her bag.

“Yeah, my mom says too much candy isn’t good though.”

“She’s right, my girlfriend is a scientist too, she only eats healthy food.”

The girl looks up at Lena and her eyes widen in wonder.

“You’re a real scientist?”

“I am, aren’t you?”

The girl tilts her head and her eyes widen again in realization. “Yeah.”

Lena grins as the girl happily waves goodbye, skipping to her mother who’s shaking her head in amusement at her daughter.

When it’s later in the evening and the number of trick-or-treaters has dwindled and you’re almost finished your third movie, you interrupt the B-horror movie you and Lena had opted for in favour of light conversation.

“You gonna dress up next season?” you ask as someone on the screen trips over their own feet.

Lena’s head is leaning against your shoulder and she snuggles closer to you under the blanket draped over you two.

“I suppose so, I definitely will when we have kids of our own though.”

You think you feel your heart skip a beat and you hear the low trumpeting of your heart in your ears. You think you’re projecting, totally having misheard Lena and you don’t dare comment on it at all, lest you make everything awkward and more troubled than it ought to be.

Your silence goes entirely noticed, however, and you don’t have to see Lena to know her eyes have shot to the size of golf balls and you can feel her entire body tense beside you.

You keep your eyes stubbornly trained on the TV, trying to steady your breaths but you learn that the mindful attempt of regulating a natural phenomenon is far too much work.

Lena’s uncharacteristically stuttering when she speaks up, “I just- I meant, that if... in the circumstance that could ever be a possibility-”

You move your arm and put a hand on her knee, your other arm bringing her in close and you squeeze reassuringly.

“Kid talk already, eh?”

You feel her indignant blush and you laugh, feeling her sink her head deeper into you if it were even possible.

“I’m sorry, I’m just bugging you,” you amend gently. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper as it’s muffled by your clothing.

“So we’ll get there when we get there. And I know I can take on everything with you, and I in fact want to.”

You squeeze her again and feel her wrap her arms around your midsection, you adjust yourself accordingly to let her.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think I could have a better Halloween partner than you.”

“How charming and thoughtful of you to say,” she says in a teasing lilt, taking her head out of somewhere from under your arm and resting her chin on your shoulder.

You turn your head slightly to look at her, adding an afterthought.

“Or a better partner in general.”

She looks up at you through her lashes, studying the soft look your face has taken when you look at her, and after a long moment she purses her lips for a kiss.

You turn your body to her and smile into her kiss, grinning at the soft exhalation of air she lets out when she melts into your touch.

You tug on her waist to bring her on top of you, Lena falling into your lap easily as you run your hands up and down her back in a soothing motion. Lena moans lowly in your mouth as your hands slip under her shirt, finally touching skin.

She rocks into you softly and your jaw drops a little, Lena’s touch tracing your lip gently before nipping at it.

You think you feel so viscerally shaken when Lena abruptly pulls away, leaving you feeling particularly cold and at a loss of contact.

By the time you figure out what’s going on, she’s already just made it to the bottom of the stairs.

“Hurry up, babe, or you won’t get to see the other costume I have in store for you.”

For the life of you, you think you black out momentarily when you process Lena’s words, and you think in that split second of seeming eternity, you caught a glimpse of your whole life flashing before you.

If there was any indication of eager excitement on your face, Lena most certainly caught it if the wink and sultry eyes she gives you is anything to go by.

You were proud to say you tripped only once bolting up the stairs; that and a handful of other bruises you garnered that night surely ended up being worth your troubles.

#lena luthor x reader #lena luthor #lena luthor imagine #lena luthor fic #katie mcgrath #lena luthor fanfic #katie mcgrath imagine #dating lena luthor #katie mcgrath fic #katie mcgrath fanfic #supercorp #supercorp fic #supercorp fanfic #supercorp fandom #supercorp imagine #supergirl imagine #lena luthor x you #supergirl imagines #lena luthor imagines

356 notes · View notes