#and he let it go and accepted he could never have it back after the debacle at Lotus Pier
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Hiii Author :D this is actually my first request, but could I ask for homocipher (especially my bb MR Crawling 🥺) when you kiss them for the first time pls and thank u 🙏
Mr Crawling
Sweet boy is giggling, blushing and kicking his long ass legs after staying unsettlingly silent for five minutes.
He’s on cloud nine the moment you pressed your warm lips against his as sweetly as you did. He didn’t know what that thing you were doing exactly, kissing was a foreign concept to him but all he knows is that he wants you to do it again and again for eternity.
Kissing this cutie is a little sloppy when he’s trying to imitate you, but you can’t get mad at him when he’s smiling and giggling in happiness that he got to reciprocate the happiness you give him.
Seriously this man has become ten times more clingy as he’s smothering you in hugs while chirping and purring in your ear, nuzzling his face against your own.
Mr crawling will double, no triple you in affection and you’re legally not allowed to move until he’s done kissing every inch of your face and neck. He just wants to make you happy and if kissing is one way to do it then Mr Crawling will do it continuously and it’ll never get old.
He will honour the kiss forever and ever and ever.
Mr Scarletella
Captain of the S.S Delusional over here.
You’re not helping his obsession with you. Not one bit after kissing him lightly as now he fully thinks this is you accepting his love and affection, letting him inside your heart as your one and only.
So have fun trying to get him off your back when he’s muttering shit like ‘mine. Love. Mine. Love. Mine. Love’ under his breath as he towers over you as you realised that this man was near inescapable.
And I mean he’s inescapable the moment you gave him that innocent little kiss on his lips. He’s smiling to himself as he runs his fingertips over his lips, still feeling your own there as his mind creates scenarios where your sat in his lap, kissing him to your hearts content and confessing your love for him.
So if you thought he was bad before, he’s fucking worse now and there’s little chance of escaping him. So good luck with all that, you will need it.
He won’t do anything to his lips in fear he’d wipe your kiss away, he’s savouring it and has the memory framed in his head as his most precious moment.
Mr Silvair
Kissing is a concept he’s not privy to and so he’s seeing this as a potential experiment he could delve into deeper.
All for science is the motto for this dude I’m afraid. Mr Silvair doesn’t feel much outside of that and an occasional warmth that he pushes aside frequently.
He’ll probably ask you to do it again, not because he wanted you to but because he’s curious as to how each and every kiss feels, believing that each one has a different meaning behind them. He’d might even indulge in what sort of stimuli could trigger you to made such a bold move on your own accord.
So to him it wouldn’t mean as much as it would for you unfortunately but that’s not going to stop him from asking for more kisses, and or creating scenarios where kissing him was the ultimate goal, and all for science experimentation.
Totally not to satiate the need to feel the warmth those kisses gave him if only briefly. 👀👀
Mr Gap
This dude doesn’t want a kiss, he wants your heart and not in the romantic sense.
You kissing him felt weird and he didn’t know whether to like it or hate it. So he mostly stays indifferent.
Seriously he’ll experience the kiss, scrunch his face up and still ask for your heart. Affection doesn’t exist within this dude at the slightest, and if it did it’s not by very much at all.
So kissing him wouldn’t exactly do much and he wouldn’t bother to reciprocate either, he’s still as fuck too so you might as well be kissing a stone statue.
Seriously. I’m not joking. I wish I was but I’m not.
#homicipher#homicipher imagine#homicipher imagines#homicipher x you#homicipher x reader#mr crawling imagine#mr crawling imagines#mr crawling x y/n#mr crawling x you#mr crawling x reader#mr crawling#mr silvair x reader#mr silvair x you#mr silvair#mr silvair imagines#mr silvair imagine#mr scarletella#mr scarletella x reader#mr scarletella imagine#mr scarlettella x you#mr scarletella imagines#mr gap x reader#mr gap x you#mr gap
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You can be just friends…right?
Best friend Rafe Cameron x alt!fem reader!
Being polar opposites of Rafe Cameron at first you clashed but eventually, you became close. After driving you to his house to celebrate an accomplishment, Rafe sees Topper hitting on you and finally lets himself be vulnerable.
Thank you to @bloodibambiidoll for helping me with the headers and letting me brainstorm! @cyberangel-graphics divider credit!
Warnings! Reader is inspired by Wednesday Addams! Season 4 era Rafe. Canon! Rafe! Oral! Fem receiving, praise, he lightly holds readers neck, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, barely edited because I’m ill.
“For someone who dresses like a witch, you take the girliest drinks.” Rafe set the coffee cup in front of you and sat across from you. You gave him a side glance while typing on your laptop, mumbling a thanks.
Rafe Cameron, an unlikely companion you met in your junior year in high school while he was a senior a long time ago. The friendship evolved after a healthy rivalry because you met his horrible attitude with dry wit.
But you had a fondness for the crash out oldest Cameron offspring. Who was arranging meetings and “handling business.” As he liked to put it. You were writing up the latest chapter of your fan fiction. A popular story that got good traction. It was also something Rafe never ceased to tease you about whenever he glanced at the words you came up with.
Rafe insisted on driving you to local animal shelter you volunteered at twice a week because normally you walked or drove the quote, “Death trap.” That he threatened to have removed from your garage.
And due to his busy schedule, this was one of the few times during the week you were able to physically spend time together.
“You hear the news about Sarah and uh, John B?” Rafe bright your attention away from the musing of your thoughts and you met his icy stare.
“My relationship with your middle sister is polite at best, Rafe. So, no.” You quipped and he exhaled sharply.
“Why do you talk like that-nevermind. Nah, she’s having a baby and I need help picking out a gift. She doesn’t know the gender yet but I could use your help.” He sounded…pained and you gently closed your laptop.
Your black nail polish shined, the skull ring on your ring finger a gift from Rafe six months ago. “Babies aren’t exactly my specialty, Rafe and seeing you as an Uncle is really funny but can’t you get Wheezie to help you?”
“Wow, okay, I come to you with a genuine question and you’re blowing me off.” He accused and you lightly kicked him with a boot.
“Enough with the dramatics. I’ll sign my name on the card and we’ll consider that my contribution.”
“A card? For what?” You huffed at his lack of knowledge.
“I suppose I can…try.”
That interaction concluded a typical day between you both. Later that week, Rafe landed a massive business deal that secured a lot of money. Naturally, your outgoing best friend wanted to celebrate. His definition of having a good time and yours differed massively.
Rafe announced that he was having a party and you were coming. He didn’t ask. Knowing you’d say no so instead his solution was to show up to your apartment, holding a black bag and a large cup of coffee.
“Don’t look at me like that, Monster High. Just take the bag.” Rafe ordered and you accepted it. He stepped inside your home, leaned against the wall and made a motion with his hand.
“Go change and I’m taking you to my place.” He saw the way your nose crinkled and his hands set firmly on your shoulders.
Physical contact wasn’t uncommon from Rafe but lately it happened a lot more. Brushes against your back, a hand on the knee or smoothing away your hair. You weren’t the best at guessing intentions so it made you feel conflicted.
You liked it. You liked the gestures. And you were embarrassed to. Your best friend made it abundantly clear he wasn’t interested in commitments and verbalizing his emotions definitely wasn’t his strong suit.
You wrote it off as pure thoughtless action as you changed clothing in your bedroom. You glanced in the mirror, already knowing it fit perfectly. It was a black dress, shorter than you normally wore and the bodice hugged your curves.
You came out, after customizing the outfit with fishnets and chunky shoes. Rafe straightened, his tall form stiffening at the sight of you approaching him. His jaw flexed and he opened his mouth to say something before deciding otherwise.
“Let’s go.”
You had busied yourself with setting up the music, straightening furniture and making sure the pool sparking until Rafe basically hauled you to socialize. You knew the guests but didn’t particularly enjoy them. But Rafe liked attention. He liked being around people who admired him and earning respect. He walked off, momentarily distracted by Barry and you took the opportunity to speed walk to the kitchen.
You poured yourself a soda, revealing in the brief moment of quiet when you felt a presence behind you. Turning, you saw Topper side step and stand before you. He gave you a friendly smile and instinctively pulled you into a greeting hug. You barely returned it, grimacing at the unwelcome contact and stood awkwardly.
“Hello.”
“Hey, how you doing? You look beautiful.” You almost felt…bad for him. You knew he meant it but he was just so…not your type.
“Thank you, Topper. How are you?” You felt like chewing glass at the small talk but he seemed to take it the wrong way. Topper moved even closer, mustering all the charm he could.
“Better now that I’m talking to you, pretty girl. What made you decide to join a party? It’s not your scene, huh?”
God, you wanted the earth to swallow you. But if you left, you’d be back with the crowd and loud music. Sweaty bodies and the sweltering sun. You debated sending a smoke signal but Topper’s hand fell on your arm.
Your eyes widened and he leaned down to whisper. “I mean we can always go somewhere more private.”
“For what?” You questioned and moved your head back.
“Jesus, I leave for two seconds and you’re already chomping at the bit, bro.” Rafe’s voice sounded more like salvation but the anger in his eyes took you aback.
“She’s off limits, man and I’ve told you that shit more than once. When are you gonna get it through your thick skull?” Rafe touched his fingers to his temples and you looked back and forth between the males.
“I didn’t realize that she was collared by you, Rafe. Thought you were just friends?” Topper shot back and you peered at Rafe.
“It’s not a big deal, Rafe. Why are you acting like this?” You questioned and he shook his head.
“Just leave her alone. She obviously doesn’t like you.” Rafe gave Topper a threatening glare and you rolled your eyes.
You crossed your arms and stepped directly in front of your best friend.
“What’s going on with you? Lately, you’ve been different. Short tempered, more than before and now this. Is there something going on?”
Your direct question made Rafe take hold of your elbow. “cmon. I don’t wanna do this right here.”
“No. You can tell me here. Now.” You sternly replied and swatted his hand away. “What’s wrong with you?”
Rafe looked on the verge of losing his mind and he looked at Topper. “Will you take a fucking hint, dude? Go!” He shooed him and you heard footsteps descending.
You held your ground and stared him in the eye. “I’m waiting.”
“Look. I know this was a weird, shitty way to do this and you know I’m not good at the whole feeling thing. But I wanted to do something nice for you tonight. I wanted you to-I wanted to tell you that you’re important to me.” He was stumbling and scratching the back of his neck.
You raised an eyebrow. “So…you throw a party, knowing I don’t like them, drive me here after buying me this dress just to tell me I’m important?” You parroted and he groaned.
“No! I mean-yeah but-damn it.” Rafe stopped speaking but cupped the back of your head. You gasped as he brought his lips to yours in a slightly open mouthed kiss. His other hand pressed you against him by splaying on your lower back, deepening your lip lock.
His mouth was soft, dominant as he met your tongue and squeezed your hip. Shock disappeared and you kissed him back. Your stomach had butterflies and your center tightened as Rafe’s thick fingers found the top of your ass.
Your lipstick was most likely ruined as Rafe sucked your lower lip but ripped himself away. He breathed heavily and tossed a side glance around him.
“Let’s go,” He took your hand and started quickly walking. You jogged to keep up with his pace.
“Rafe, where are we going?” You asked but he kept moving, his steps quick and you saw the familiar door of his bedroom.
He pulled you inside, closing the door behind him and he went to bring you back to him but you held up a palm.
“Wait. What, what is this?” You were finally collecting your thoughts after the heated kiss, your nerve endings in overdrive and your skin burning. Catching a glimpse of yourself in his mirror, you saw your smeared lipstick and you sighed exasperatedly.
“What’s what? I told you earlier,” Rafe began but you interrupted.
“I know what you said. But what does that mean? In this moment. Do you just want to hook up? Is that why you just brought me in here? Is that all you want?” He didn’t miss the pointed accusation but he didn’t respond in anger.
Rafe touched his shaved scalp, chest deflating. “I get why you’d think that but no. I don’t wanna just fuck you. I like you. I like your little weird quirks. I like how you’re not afraid of what people think. I don’t want you to be any different.”
You remained silent, letting him find his words.
“Look. It’s more than…liking you. I love you,” Rafe spoke your name with a tenderness you rarely heard. Your heart swelled at his confession.
“Seeing you is the best part of my week. Talking to you is one of the only things that keep me from losing my mind. You’ve been there for me when everything went to shit and when I lost my dad (TW WARD mention)” Rafe took a step forward, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to touch you.
“And you’re always calling me out when I act like a dick. Which is a lot.” He bit his lower lip and your gaze flickered between his face to the floor.
“I mean can you blame me? For falling for you?” Rafe chuckled, bright teeth showing and you swallowed. Trying to moisten your dry mouth.
“Rafe, this doesn’t seem real.” You confessed. “I mean you’ve always talked about not wanting to settle down and why should I believe that I’ll be any different?”
Rafe perked up, not dissuaded and his palms finally settled on your waist. It was comfortable, despite the way your belly hurtled at his attempt at being gentle.
“Wait, that’s not a no. That’s not a rejection, do you love me?”
You felt completely naked. He was imploring you with his perfect face and intense eye contact. You weren’t good at living in the moment. You were always overthinking. And this wasn’t a cookie cutter situation. Rafe had problems. Deep ones. So did you.
But you couldn’t lie to him.
“Yes, Rafe. I love you too.” It was a shaky admission but he seized the opportunity and kissed you again.
He pressed so hard you could feel his teeth and he looped his arms around your back. Rafe lifted you off the ground, making you squeak in surprise and he landed you both on his bed.
You’d fantasized about this plenty of times but it was even better. Rafe was strong, his firm body easily weighed yours down and he effortlessly shifted your body higher. He cupped your jaw and massaged your tongue with his.
You moaned softly and then louder as he kneaded your tits. Rafe messily peppered kisses along your neck, sucking your sweet spot and your back arched. His ring clad fingers were warm as he lifted the bottom of your dress up. Exposing your body and black underwear.
“God you’re so fucking pretty. You gonna let me show you that, baby?” He breathed and dragged his lips against your upper stomach, down, down and Rafe inhaled the scent from your open legs.
His big hands peeled off your panties and he grunted deep in his chest as he looked at the wetness in the center.
“Well, you’ve been needing this, huh?” Rafe mused and caused you to whimper as he dragged his tongue to the middle of your underwear.
“If that tastes sweet, I bet the source is even better.” Without another second hesitation, Rafe pushed your thighs apart, encouraging you to put them over his shoulders. Your heels dug into his back as he dived in.
Rafe didn’t eat pussy that often. He usually warmed a girl up with his fingers before fucking her senseless. But with you, his dick throbbed at the taste of your cunt as he lapped away. He was a little aggressive, moving his head back and forth. Digging his fingers into the meat of your thighs but your groans and the way you set your hand on his head drove him crazy.
“Mhm, fuck, yeah i know. Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” Rafe praised and separated your folds. He sucked your clit and gently nipped with his teeth. Soothing it immediately and you were almost seeing stars as you rode his face.
He gave you an encouraging slap on the ass and brought you impossibly closer. You knew he probably couldn’t breathe but when Rafe tongue fucked your entrance and then dragged back to your clit it caused you to be embarrassingly loud.
“I’m cumming, I’m cumming-Rafe-“ you chanted and he pried your legs back open to lick you through it. Your body trembled and your eyes fluttered open as he crawled up.
The sight of his glistening chin and mouth was the hottest thing. Rafe gripped your cheeks. “Give me those fucking lips,” And he fused them together.
You tasted the remnants of yourself as you put your hands underneath his shirt. Rafe impatiently took it off, quickly kissing you again and his fingers made work to remove his pants.
“Gonna fill you up, princess. Need to fuck your pussy,” He almost sounded on the brink of begging and you sighed in admiration as you glanced at his cock.
Rafe took the leaking tip and ran it along your slit. Tapping the head against your puffy clit and he pushed into you. The stretch ached for a second but then the way he hit the deepest spot in you made your eyes roll back.
You wrapped your legs around his waist and Rafe moaned deep in his chest. His lips found your ear, “You feel so good, fuck, I’ve been wanting this. You can take it, atta girl.”
He clamped your thigh down, holding it against the mattress, spreading you as open as possible and his other hand settled lightly around your neck. Your mouth parted and Rafe thrusted harder. Balls thudding against your ass.
“Taking me like a good girl, that’s it. Move with me,” Rafe ordered and you were fucked out completely but obeyed him.
You took his fingers in your mouth when he moved his hand, sucking softly and Rafe smiled at you with his slight smugness.
“Just Fucking your best friend and you’re already brainless. Give it to me, let me have your cum,” Rafe looked down at your connected bodies and gave you a deep roll of his hips.
You let out a sob, tears streaming down your face and mascara running down your cheeks. Your orgasm came like a tidal wave and you buried your face into Rafe’s neck, biting lightly on his shoulder.
Rafe was right behind you, emptying his cum in your pussy and he moaned thickly. His arms squeezed you a bit too tight but it was comforting. You still moved, hooking your knee against his ribcage and flipped him on his back.
Rafe let out a noise of surprise but then his blue eyes were darkened with lust. Your hands ran down his chest as sweat decorated your skin. Your jeweled fingers and bracelets clinked as you teasingly dragged your nails on his shoulders.
“I like seeing you confident. It’s hot.” Rafe smirked and reached up to brush a knuckle against your cheekbone. “Mmm, you’re so pretty y’know? I’ve always thought that. Even with all that on your face.”
You rolled your eyes but gave him a returning smile. Straddling his lap, you gently bounced right above his dick. “Bet you’re just saying that.”
He rested his head back, cupping your ass and meeting your motions. “Nah, you know I mean it.”
“So, what now?”
“We figure it out. But for now,” Rafe leaned up and you felt his abs tighten. “You gonna let me feel that pretty little pussy again?”
Tagging @cxrrodedcoffin @marchsfreakshow @dirtylittlefairytales @starkeysprincess @starkeysbabygirl @cameronsprincess @stillwjk-channie-lixie @gri959 @userchai @eddieslut69 @rafeinterlude @eddiesxangel @rafeyscurtainbangs @fear-is-truth @sturnioloshacker @decodedlvr @oceanblvd111 @oceandriveab
#rafe#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe x reader#rafe obx#rafe imagine#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe cameron#rafe outer banks#outerbanks rafe#rafe x you#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x kook!reader#Rafe Cameron x smut#Rafe Cameron x alt reader#OBX#outer banks#outer banks season 4#obx season 4#obx4
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That time of the month guys, You know what I must do...
Whb Kings on your Period
All Kings x AFAB! reader NSFW No sex just extremely suggestive... Blame three individuals
....Wait a minute... If Lilith makes the kids does that mean demon women don't have periods? Probably looking too much into it...
Edit: This is supposed to be a fun post, But at the end of this, I went down several rabbit holes... Please don't be like me don't think 😭
Cw: mentions of pussy eating (You probably know who it is already lol), no . Suggestive,(alluding to sex on. But never happens because demons are fucking weird)
Satan
You're different somehow every month, and he can't put his finger on it. But your short-tempered rage makes him giggle like a teenager and kick his feet. You have such a low tolerance, super BS, and he loves that. And he wants to know why he never smelled this off Solomon before, so it must be you that's different. When Satan asks you, you sigh and put your hands to your mouth before giving him a 20-minute explanation.
...Holy shit? You're what now??? He thought humans creating little people it was crazy now what you're telling him is that humans have the power to shed their skin from the inside and shit it out??? Can he see it?!
... The mental image, He had and the real thing was not what he expected are you okay Oh my God there's so much again. He never wants to see that much blood come out of you ever again. The way you made this man fear more than any angel by that explanation alone. The way you have this man scampering to a human store to get whatever you ask to help ease the pain even if it's just for a little.
When he tells you that demon women don't have periods He swore your rage was emanating off you and Leviathan could probably feel you're jealousy from all the way in Hades.
Hi I think Satan using a period cramp simulator would be very funny and very entertaining...
Bonus non-cannon:
Fem!Satan: Would have the worst periods known to woman. The streets of Gehanna are deserted because the moment something slightly inconveniences her a whole building is collapsing. I wouldn't blame her, her period cramps will hurt worse than Gabriel stabbing a sword through her uterus before punching her in the gut.
Mammon
He'll buy you literally everything. It doesn't matter if you use tampons pads or cups because he's already bought everything. He's either got it from Lucifer or you made an offhand comment about it and he did his own research. He's very proud that he's prepared for his master.
Like he'll already get you everything But when you're on your period you actually have a reason to accept all his things especially if it's junk food. This is awesome! You're letting him pamper you!!! He wishes you can have periods all the time!
(one explanation later) What the fuck? Never mind. Aren't you scared of running out of blood?
He wish he could grant you something that take the way the pain and discomfort easily but Tartaros never really had that problem so they don't really have any solutions. Instead he'll just stick to spoiling you with food.
Watching Mamon's eyes go wide when he sees how much a tampon soaks up water is pretty funny.
Bonus non-cannon:
Fem!Mammon: She hates it. She hates it so much that she spends the money and resources to immediately either go to the human world or recreate a Depo shot or an implant to get rid of it. And she regularly changes it when she has to.
Leviathan
He smelled blood and he thought you were going to get killed. He was literally ready to die protecting you. He was so angry that he got worked up over nothing at first until he saw how much pain you were in.
Beelzebub
Why does your body insist on doing something that harms itself Is it stupid or is your body hating you. If you insist on being useless then you can just lay in bed!
After the initial Levi snark is gone he comes back to check on you. He actually looks really worried and thinks you might die. Freaking out frantic calls tulucifer after initial back and forth Lucifer insists that what they're feeling is normal.
All of the novels will be looking after you He doesn't want you leaving the bed just in case you might trip and die or accidentally get yourself hurt. He genuinely thinks you might die.
He will silently open your door stare at you and see if you're doing all right and then close the door, Rinse and repeat until you either yell at him ask him what he's doing. He will either respond with arguing back.
Bonus non-canon:
Fem!Leviathan: when she's on her period you literally will never see her. She's so glad She connected her bathroom too her bedroom. It's because she sheds her scales she's not joking. She actually does shed her scales on her period Will she show you fuck no. The moment she starts bleeding you're never seeing her again until she stops.
Honestly he was zoning out through half of your explanation until you mention the actual 'bleeding' process. Then you just see him lean inward putting his chin on his hands. So you're telling him... There is a way to consume you without hurting you?
This fucker has to stay away from you 10 ft away. He is SOOOO on board with eating you out. Keep Guy 10 ft away from you He would be absolutely no help except for maybe eating junk food and bringing you snacks.
He will laugh at your horrid, disgusted face because he just loves your cute little reactions. He raises his hand during the lecture on human anatomy to the Kings, and you told him to put his hand back down because you're not answering any of his batshit questions because you know it's going to be the second worst thing you've ever heard.
Bonus non-cannon:
It's okay though he'll never remember you period though he will always know because he could smell it (insert that one meme) he'll deadass forget that humans can bleed like that and occasionally get scared to smell blood on you before remembering.
He's still this day wonders about us question "if He sucks it all out Would the period be over?"
Fem! Beel: she's lost so much of her cute underwear from being forgetful. I could definitely see her getting an implant or Depo so she doesn't have to remember, but she kind of already forgets her appointments, too.
Lucifer
Human menstrual cycle...He's not stupid He was part of the creation when God made humans to breed with one another. He not only sees it as a normal thing but something special that human women have that sets them apart from demons and angels.
He doesn't understand your disgust and hatred by something explicitly given to you and all human women by God.
He offers to change your mind as he gets on his knees and you start adamantly declining and screaming. Now he really is confused....
About half of the other devils are defending your case when Lucifer brings it up at the next meeting. Though it's so split down the middle they end up discussing that topic another time.
As an 'apology' he gives you a basket with a bouquet of white lilies, painkillers and some cut fruits with card telling you to not eat unhealthy foods since it tends to make the cramps worse. And he hopes you get better.
Bonus non-cannon:
Fem!Lucifer: human female menstrual cycle yeah don't they also molt their feathers? No that's just an angel thing?? So demons also don't molt their feathers molting feathers is just an angel thing??? Other she would be super chill on her cramps, she doesn't even care.
Belphegor
The most normal, You want somewhere to rest? Lucky for you his bed is the softest in all of hell he'll make sure to take good care of you and by taking care of you he means sleeping and cuddling with you while his subordinates do all the work.
Periods actually sound like a pain in the ass He hopes he never has one You're absolutely welcome too crash at his place He understands completely about how things might be more irritating when you're constantly in pain.
Belphegor Actually really likes You're listlessness as much as he likes hard work He doesn't mind when you succumb to his sin a little bit. Especially when you're looking so cute laying on top of him. His phone screen is a picture of you smooshed against his chest with a hand on your head.
Another excuse to binge anime that he doesn't want to watch alone is a win in his book. He'll let you watch some of your favorites as well. He's not picky.
Beleth is in heaven taking care of and pampering you and his majesty. He just wish he could have you to himself for 'private' time.... menstruation? Lol a little blood isn't going to scare him.
Bonus non-cannon:
Fem!Belphegor: Nope... The last time they had their first period was when they first woke up, never again... A thousand years of menstrual pain almost put her back to sleep. Ever since she'd been dying trying to get rid of this thing causing her pain as soon as she heard Lucifer can do implants and depots She was the first one who got it. If she ever gets off at again she'll experience the same exact piercing pain she felt.... but That sounds like a problem for her future self.
Asmodeus
He completely compliance but doesn't really understand He still doesn't. After having a wife who had to deal with periods. It's a complete natural thing for the human reproductive system. And oh boy you bet he knows all about that
"You know if you really don't like it I used to have a cure that can take it away for 9 months, Would you like one? Hahah just kidding dear!"
Asmodeus 🤝Lucifer🤝Beelzebub(I think you can fill in the blank)
In all seriousness he really doesn't understand why humans don't like something that's completely natural He understands devils because devils are just naive beings in general and only certain high level angels Who worked with God don't care...
Another Tally on the board that what Asmodeus has that human men lack. Apparently basic women anatomy knowledge.
As much as he would love to take care of you again since he hasn't done that since his last wife. He doesn't think the Kings fully trust him yet so presents it is. He can tell what phase in your cycle by just scent alone, and that's scary.
Bonus non-canon:
Fem!Asmodeus: She doesn't give a fuck You better be on top of her or else she's going to have a problem. She always feels so horny her period.She's horny all the time
"It's going to be a bloodbath >:)!"
"please stop saying that..."-MC
#gotta say... supernatural beings that don't understand human anatomy is my favorite gender#whb#whb satan#whb mammon#whb leviathan#whb x reader#whb x mc#This is the worst thing I've ever written#whb kings#whb lucifer#whb beelzebub#whb belphegor#what in hell is bad#wihib#whb asmodeus
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let me love you
bangchan x f reader
words counted: 9927
warnings: alcohol use, public tension?, oral sex (f rec), fingering (f rec), unprotected sex (dont!!!), daddy kink (soft), praise kink, a bit of emotional manipulation?? softdom!chris - let me know if i forgot smthing plsss
genre: romance, angst n smut
summary: chris and you have been best friends for many years, slowly beginning to have feelings for each other but you two had never confessed it for fear of rejection, although you know how you both felt about each other. his birthday was almost there and you wanted it to buy a nice and original gift, so with all your savings, you ordered a silver necklace that you had completely designed.
author's note: hiiiiii!!! this is my first fic, hehe. constructive comments are accepted :P hope you like it !!! :3
ฅ/ᐠ˶> ﻌ<˶ᐟ\ฅ
At this point in your life, it was no longer a secret that you and Chris liked each other.
You two had been best friends for years, each slowly developing feelings for the other and, although you never confessed it because of each other's fears and problems, everyone knew it, even you both.
Neither of you had ever said anything to the boys, but they themselves quickly realized when your looks and moments together went from being sweet and innocent to having deep meanings; those intimate and intense looks, the too long touches or the way you had to be close to each other in all situations, even unconsciously.
You yourselves began to realize each other's feelings due to the constant teasing of the boys, the way you missed each other or the deeply sincere conversations that you always shared about your life or emotions although you was never completely honest with him because of your own fears and issues; fears based on not being enough for him and lacking everything he was. He was an idol and you were just an ordinary person. The issues of the constant comparison with the people around him, always telling yourself that he needed someone like him, someone from his world so that he wouldn't lower himself. You loved him, deeply, that's why you pushed him away every time you could.
Therefore, being his best friend and keeping things platonical already seemed enough to you and your feelings.
It had been a few hours since Chris's birthday had started and you were with Changbin and Hyunjin, the three of you waiting for the bartender to finish preparing your fourth mojito of the night. For the occasion, and after having Hyunjin, Felix and Jeongin at your house for two hours discussing what you were going to wear, you decide to be totally faithful to your style.
"I don't know why I listen to you, honestly. I feel out of place with what I'm wearing" you murmur while once again, letting out a sigh while you continue resting your back on the bar counter and take another quick look at the huge room that Chris had reserved for his birthday, which was completely full with famous people in their expensive clothes.
"You're always exaggerating, there are plenty of people more dressed down than you," Changbin says as he takes a sip of his drink, also looking around the room. Changbin’s dresses in a black suit and Hyunjin has a white suit on, with a few buttons of his white dress shirt unbuttoned.
Hyunjin nods with a small mischievous smile, "Oh, yes. Look at that one..." while discreetly pointing his head at a girl who’s dressed in a red dress and yellow heels, he murmurs, then suppresses a giggle as he takes a quick sip of his drink, "She's the female version of the McDonald's clown." you nudge him gently, trying to suppress a laugh as you listen how Changbin can't contain himself and bursts into laughter along with Hyunjin.
Hyunjin's laugh begins to grow louder and he covers his mouth with his hand, almost choking on his drink as he watches the girl from afar. Changbin also laughs at Hyunjin laughing and pats his back, "S-stop it, bro. You're going to die from laughing." Hyunjin holds his chest before breathing a bit, "Oh God, I can't stand it. And she looks so happy in that dress."
You can't help but make a comment too, “Maybe she thought it was a costume party,” still suppressing a giggle and Changbin laughs again, this time, covering his mouth to avoid spitting out his drink.
Hyunjin nods and takes a big sip of his drink, trying to calm himself down, "The only thing that's missing is that she starts distributing hamburgers to everyone. That would be the cherry on top." he laughs after saying it and you two burst out laughing at Hyunjin's comment.
Changbin then pats Hyunjin's back again and lets out a sigh, "God, you're going to make me pee myself from laughing as hard as we are right now."
"I didn't know Chris had friends who cosplayed," you say again, unable to stop making comments while turning your back on the girl to start laughing.
Hyunjin and Changbin burst into laughter again, the tall one puts his drink down on the counter to keep himself from choking on it. When the two finally stop laughing, Hyunjin stands straight and leans against the bar counter again, taking a big sip of his drink before he speaks again, "At least we're not the only ones laughing, I saw Felix and Jeongin dying of laughter a few minutes ago."
Changbin chuckles and takes another sip of his drink, leaning casually against the bar counter as well, "I'd be concerned about Chris but he seems to be having the time of his life," he motions to glance over at Chris, who can be seen chatting and laughing with multiple people around the room.
You and Hyunjin follow Changbin's gaze, watching Chris seem to be enjoying himself. Your gaze stops to observe how he laughs, showing his dimples before you lower your gaze to his clothes, beginning to drool internally at seeing him once again in that black suit with a couple of buttons undone. But before you start to eat him with your eyes, the voice of the bar waiter tells you that your drink is ready, breaking you out of your trance and taking your gaze away from Chris to direct it to the waiter, thanking him before picking it up and carrying the straw to your lips to sip the mojito.
As you take a sip of your drink, you notice Hyunjin and Changbin sharing a knowing glance between the two of them before Hyunjin speaks once again, "So..." he begins, raising his eyebrow as he glances at you, "Have you given Chris his birthday gift yet?"
Changbin raises his eyebrows a bit and takes another sip of his drink, his eyes also on you as he silently listens to the conversation while Hyunjin waits for your response.
"No, not yet," you answer as you look at them a little excited, making both raise their eyebrows, then you gently bite your lower lip, leaving the drink on the countertop and looking back to where Chan is, "I wanted to give it to him earlier but it seems like he doesn't get tired of talking and talking and I don't want to cut him off." you look back at the boys to shrug, downplaying it, "I'll give it to him later." Hyunjin and Changbin's curiosity only grows more as they continue to look at you.
"You seem excited," Hyunjin teases with a smirk and Changbin nods as he smiles.
"Yeah, a little too excited.” he narrows his eyes, “What did you get him?"
“Uhm... I asked a jeweler to make a necklace I had designed for Chris a reality.” you murmur a little shyly, feeling your cheeks take on a slight pink tone and then pick up your drink and take a small sip, “So a personalized and... unique necklace in the world?”
Hyunjin and Changbin exchange a glance between themselves, both of them impressed at the amount of effort you put into Chris' present. In front of the intrigued looks of the boys, you decide to show them the gift before they start asking. You set the drink on the countertop and open your bag, pulling out a small black satin box, which you open to reveal its contents.
The necklace was made of silver with eight small stars, representing SKZ, on the sides and a cross similar to the Chrome Hearts' design in the middle but with the difference that in the middle of it, was a small black diamond.
You let Hyunjin's hands take the small box so the two of them could inspect the contents as they both stare down at the necklace, speechless and both impressed with how good the necklace looked.
"Damn, that's... beautiful. I didn't know you were putting so much effort into this."
Hyunjin nods in agreement, his eyebrows raised in curiosity, "Let me guess... was it expensive?"
“Kinda.”
"God, I knew you were going to do that." Changbin says as he shakes his head, "Of course you were going to spend all your savings on him.”
You roll your eyes as you gently shake your head and Hyunjin hands you back the box, which returns to your bag before you close it, "It's the first time I've bought something expensive from Chris. I'm a bit uneasy in case he gets all 'I don't want you to spend money on me' mood."
Hyunjin and Changbin both agree with you at the same time, "He's definitely going to do that," they both say, and you can't do anything but snort a bit as Changbin continues speaking, "That idiot doesn't like people spending a lot of money on him but he’ll put it on as soon as you give it to him," they both keep their eyes on you for a few more seconds before Changbin glances back at Chan and murmurs, “You’re never going to ask each other out, are you?"
You feel heat start to burn in your face as you hear Changbin's words, a small smile settling on your lips. Even though you had never confessed anything and both of you continued to silently suffer, you were well aware that the two boys knew about it. And that makes you feel a little embarrassed, because honestly, you hated having to talk about it and having to repeat the same answer over and over again. You hated their speeches about your emotions and the attempts to 'make you open your eyes'.
Deep down inside you knew that your actions only caused immense pain to Chan, who wanted to shower you in all his love and make you see that you were more than enough for him, but your fears had always controlled your life.
“Never,” you murmur in response while shaking your head and they both sigh as you leave the glass empty and you call the bartender's attention, "A vodka with lemon, please."
After your second glass of vodka with lemon, your senses began to become blurred. You had continued talking to Changbin and Hyunjin but you didn't remember a single thing that had come out of their mouths, just the way you kept giggling as you continued ordering drinks.
At some point, Chris stopped talking to the group and approached you, laughing at your jokes and enjoying the company and due to your state, you couldn’t help but begin to navigate towards the territory that you had forbidden yourself. The party was at its peak, with most people drinking and dancing while enjoying themselves, but you still hadn't given your gift to Chan.
Hyunjin was trying to explain a joke but between how he slurred his words and how he laughed while explaining it, no one understood him, you were just laughing at the scene. Changbin, who was the most sober of the group, watched the scene with a raised eyebrow while laughing until he saw how you and Chris were looking at each other while laughing and spoke when a comfortable silence fell among the group after the laughter, "Are you going to give him the gift or what?"
"Oh, yes, yes..." you murmur with your pinky cheeks due to alcohol. With slightly shaky hands, you open your bag for the second time that night, pulling out the small box and reaching your hand towards him so Chan could grab it.
"I hope you like it," you murmur excited and nervous, taking a quick look at his hands before focusing on his face.
His hand slowly reaches out, taking the box from your grasp as his eyes continue to stay focused on you, "You didn't have to-"
Changbin huffs from behind and interrupts his sentence, "Just open it, Chan."
He can feel your gaze staring at him which only causes his own body to become tense and his heart to palpitate a bit more than it already was and you chew on your lower lip nervously as your eyes watch him open the black box, his eyes almost widening a bit surprised as he processes the contents of said box.
"Holy shit..." he murmurs as he stares down at the silver necklace in complete awe, his eyes tracing every single little detail that was on the jewelry.
He delicately takes the necklace out of the box, almost handling it with the same care he would handle a newborn baby, examining it closely and you start to grow even more nervous. As he turns the necklace around, you feel even more anxious at the idea of him hating your gift and your breath gets stuck in your throat when he finally looks back at you with his doe eyes.
"You don't like it?" you speak quickly, making your words slur a little as you look at him totally embarrassed and take another step to take the necklace from his hands, "I-I can change it, you know? I can tell him th-"
"No, what? No" Chan's immediate response, quickly as yours, interrupts your thoughts and he tightens his grip on the necklace, not giving you the chance to take it from his grasp, “I do like it. I actually love it.”
Your body relaxes when you see how a small smile begins to widen on his mouth, perfectly showing his dimples as he once again stares down at the silver necklace in his grasp, making you let out a small sigh of relief. You know he's not lying when he says he loves it; his ears begin to turn crimson.
"I just..." he starts again as that smile he has on his face never falters, "I just wasn’t expecting this... How much did it cost you?”
"It doesn't matter" your response is immediate, noticing how a small frown creases Chris’ forehead as he begins to open his mouth again to probably start a monologue, but so before he can say anything, not wanting to hear him say the same thing over and over again, Hyunjin chimes in.
"Can I see it?" Hyunjin cuts him off before a word comes out of his mouth, leaning in to get a better view as he puts a hand on your shoulder, a silent and discreet way of saying 'I've got you' and Chan nodds. “Damn,” Hyunjin says, feigning surprise and looking at the small jewelry on Chan's grisp as if he hadn't seen it before, “I always knew you had a good taste. It looks cool.”
You smile a bit when you see him helping in the situation, but your attention then goes back to Chris, who continues to stare at the piece of jewelry in his hands with a frown on his mouth.
“I…" Chan starts again as he tightens his hold on the necklace a bit, almost as if someone could take it from him, "I really do love it... But you shouldn’t have-"
Again, Changbin steps between the interaction, “Yeah, yeah. Can’t people do anything without you lecturing them all the time, goddamnit?” his tone is a bit annoyed as he rolls his eyes at his friend, "She just wanted to pamper you for your birthday. Just accept the damn gift, Chris,” he lets out as he lightly slaps at the leader's shoulder and Chan lets out a sigh. You have to suppress a chuckle at the scene before you, knowing that Changbin was speaking for everyone with his words. Chris's grip relaxes on the jewel and his gaze returns to you, searching for words to appreciate the gift, he knows he should just be thankful but that feeling in his chest prevents him.
"Don't worry Chris, it's okay," you try to reassure with a small smile and your shoulder receives a squeeze from Hyunjin before he returns to his previous position, leaning on the bar. Chris raises his hand, his eyes flickering between it and your face, offering you the necklace as he asks, "Can you… can you help me put it on?" you nod.
Your heart fluttered in your chest at his request as you took a step closer to him, and Chan’s heart practically leaped into his throat. Your hands carefully take the necklace from him and with slightly shaky fingers, you place the necklace around Chris’ neck; the cold metal of the necklace coming in contact with his skin and making him shiver slightly, making him hyper-aware of every movement, touch or breath. He can’t help but lean into your touch just a little bit, relishing in the feeling of the proximity of you and your face.
You fastened it and made sure it was sitting properly before moving it around his neck, making the necklace clasp stay at the back of his neck. But even though you have just closed the clasp, you stay where you were while you lower your hands to your sides; not separating yourself even a centimeter from him and he doesn’t dare to move or speak either.
Chris's cologne come directly in with every breath you took, along with that look in his eyes; that look that beggs you to let go for once and finally give in to your desires repressed for years made your mind go back to the fine line you have been avoiding all night when he returned to your side.
But as quickly as the moment came, as quickly it leaves when you hear Hyunjin’s whisper to Changbin, which has come out louder than he wanted.
You finally look away from his eyes, and Chris does the same, avoiding eye contact to try and hide how red his face and ears have become, causing an awkward silence to hang in the air. You turn to look at the guys, who look at you both with a clumsiness look in their eyes and Changbin glances at Hyunjin before grabbing his arm and pulling him away from the bar.
"I... I think we’re going to go find Han," Changbin quickly says, not wanting Hyunjin to disturb any longer between you and Chan and begins to move away from you, dragging the highest, "See you... later?" both you and Chris murmur a soft "yeah, see you later" as you watch the two boys leave, hearing a “good job, dumbass” from Changbin.
After the two boys leave, an uncomfortable silence fills the atmosphere around you and Chris. You can feel a lump in your chest, probably the alcohol mixed with your own emotions; your breath falters a small bit, and your heart pounds with a force you didn’t know you could feel, you feel your skin burn with desire.
With your eyes focusing on the floor in front of you, you bite your lower lips, the taste of vodka on your tongue. You know that you shouldn’t look up. You know that if you look up, you won’t be able to look away.
As if your head was on autopilot, you slowly lift your gaze, letting your eyes travel up to his face. The necklace was perfect on him, the silver contrasting perfectly with his skin and the black of his clothes. His eyes immediately turn to yours, as if he was already waiting, as if his focus had never left you. You feel your heartbeat get faster, your breathing labored as the alcohol running through your body makes everything more intense.
"Uhm... It looks good on you," is the first thing you think of saying to try to reduce the awkwardness. You try to look back at the necklace, at something other than his eyes, but you can't, feeling the alcohol take over every one of your senses, the sound of the people having fun in the background muffling, everything feeling distant, like if you were trapped in a bubble only the two of you can see. His own eyes are roaming all over your face too, the desire and hunger in them making your legs feel like jelly, as if he could take you right there.
"Yeah?” he murmurs in response, his voice slightly low, almost a soft caress that makes your senses go even crazier. He takes a small step towards you, invading your personal space without even caring, reducing the space between you almost completely, "You like how it looks on me?"
He is trying to be cheeky, and you can see it in his eyes. You bite your lower lip, your brain screaming to look away, to not get carried away by the intense gaze of the man in front of you. You know you’re a couple of seconds away from starting something, but you still don’t look away from him, chewing your lower lip again and a lucid idea comes to your mind; it was as if he...
"You've been waiting for us to be alone."
“Maybe.”
"How drunk are you?," you ask carefully, knowing that you two are starting to not think rationally.
"Honestly? Pretty drunk" he confesses, his words coming out slightly slurred, but even then, you can clearly hear the desire in his voice, “You?”
“Same. Enough to regret tomorrow”
Both of you stare at each other, analyzing, feeling that same tension coursing through the air. You didn’t need to say much, you didn’t need to speak with words, each of you knows what the other is thinking, each of you are aware of the fine line of the situation and the alcohol is making everything more intense. The look in his eyes, the way he keeps staring at you without blinking an eye,his cologne flooding your senses in the best and worst way possible. It’s all too much, and yet, it's still not enough.
"Chris, no- we're not thinking rationally," you mutter, slurring your words a little because of how quickly they come out of your mouth, "We're supposed to have a line, remember? And we're about to cross it-”
“Then push me away,” he almost dares you as he cutt you off, his hands slowly slide next to your arms as grabs the edge of the countertop, pinning you against the counter of the bar, “Tell me you don't wanna and I swear I won't do it again.���
“I…” you murmur under your breath, trying to think of anything to stop both of your brains from fading into the drunken lust.
“You what? You’re scared?” he asks rhetorically, raising an eyebrow and then letting out a quiet sigh, “Don't you realize that we can't continue like this? I like you, you like me. Why don't you let me love you?”
You both looked into each other's eyes with an intensity that revealed all the feelings that you did not let come to the surface and tried to bury. You look into his chocolate brown eyes as if you’re bewitched by them and the way his eyes seem to almost stare into your soul. The closeness creates as if the world around you were a simple blur that makes you feel even dizzier.
His mind is clouded with all the things he wants to say and do, but the words are stuck in his throat for the way you were looking at him, making him feel like he’s the only person in the world. Chan's eyes darts downwards to your lips for a brief moment before quickly flicking back up to your eyes and he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly, when he found himself leaning just a millimeter closer to you, lips almost brushing yours.
“Let me love you, please…” he whispers in a low tone, making the words sound like a breathless prayer on his tongue.
You know it's wrong, you'll regret it the moment your mind becomes fully conscious again but your body simply can't keep up with the self-imposed prohibition nor even the same beg look in his eyes, so you just lock your lips with his.
With your soft, sweet permission as you close your eyes, Chan allows himself to move the hand he has on the edge of the countertop to place it on the side of your neck, cupping it and immediately closing his eyes at the contact.
The party, the people, the loud music, everything, disappear as a lost train that never returns. It feels like every nerve in your bodies is ignited as you both savor the taste of the other; every bit of non-talked emotions replaced by an overwhelming wave.
Chan kisses you with a sweet intensity as if he’s trying to make up for the years of suppressed feelings. He pulls you closer to him, his other hand finding your hip and resting on it as he deepened the kiss, his tongue gently requesting entrance between your lips, which you gave it to him with delight as your hands travel to his shoulders.
You open your mouth slightly and Chris doesn’t waste a second entering it, causing your right hand to slide to the back of his head, grabbing his hair between your fingers as if your life depen on it. Chris lets a guttural sound escape his throat and buries his fingers hard into your hip, which you respond with a soft gasp.
His tongue explores your mouth eagerly, tasting and claiming every inch, leaving the two of you in a moment of undeniable connection and raw emotion and with a shudder; he gently pushes you against the countertop, tilting your head a bit to give him better access to your mouth, making you moan quietly in response.
Chris swallows the sound of your moan, feeling a wave of desire wash over him as he pushes you harder against it and his body against yours, pinning you between himself and the cold surface behind you.
He pulls back, both of you breathless, just enough to trail kisses down your jaw and throat, his nose pressing into the soft skin of your neck as he drank in the scent of you and taste of your skin, leaving hot kisses along your neck as he slowly makes his way to your lips, also leaving a quick there before separating his face from you.
Chris rests his forehead against yours as he, despite the desire coursing through him, can’t help but admire the sight of you; eyes shining while looking at him, lips parted and in a reddish color.
His eyes linger over your messy figure for a few seconds, his tongue moistening his lips as if he could still taste you in them, as if you could still melt in his mouth, "Let’s get out of here.”
“But your birthday party-”
“Fuck it."
He took a step back, reluctantly releasing his grip on your hip, but his other hand grabbed yours, lacing his fingers through yours and started to lead you inside the club and towards the exit.
"And the boys?"
"I’ll text them later."
Not even your mind responded clearly anymore, so clouded by the taste of his mouth and the desire for his hands to run over your body that you couldn't articulate any denial.
Chris hailed a cab and in the blink of an eye, you two were at your apartment, your lips locking againg once he closed the door. Everything happened so quickly as you walked blindly to your room, leaving your pieces of clothes and shoes along the way.
You realize you were both only wearing underwear when your back hits the soft sheets of your bed and your head the pillows, with Chris on top of you.
Chan breaks the kiss briefly to trail his mouth around your throat for a few seconds, trying to contain the desire that was coursing through his entire being as he tastes your skin and hear your gasps in response, and he move his mouth down to your collarbone, leaving open-mouthed kisses over your chest and then going down to your stomach, his hot tongue leaving a hot stripe of saliva as he continues to go down until he reaches your hip bone, suddenly felt your fingers tugging the strands of his hair.
Chris stops immediately to raise his head a little, looking at you with doe eyes, captivated by the image in front of him. His hands travel from your hips to the edge of your panties, slowly lowering them as you raise your hips a little to help him and throwing them somewhere in the moonlit room.
He lets out a gasp as he looks at your exposed wet pussy, and you see his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows in an almost greedy way. His eyes seem as if he's admiring some kind of rare diamond, and even if you want to hide and feel self-conscious about your body, the look in his eyes makes you shiver, the intensity with which he looks at you makes you feel like the most beautiful girl to step on earth.
"Tell me how bad you want it" he whispers, almost in a daze, as his hands travel again to your thighs, feeling your skin like a delicate fabric, tracing patterns over your inner legs, to which you respond by lowering a bit his head until his nose and lips brush against your folds, “Use your words, princess.” his breath directly against your cunt causes a cold shiver to run down your spine, anticipating the pleasure and you let out a quiet gasp.
“Please…” you whisper in a tremulous tone, feeling your cheeks burn with desire and perhaps a little bit of embarrassment for the intense look of the man in front of you and you bite your lower lip as he brushes his nose over your folds again, enjoying the way you squirm under his touch; your response to his pleas makes him feel a wave of satisfaction and heat in his stomach, “I-I want it so bad, please Chris”
"There we go" Chris praises you quietly, a satisfied smile on his lips, "You're doing such a good job for me, princess, I know you can do better." He gives your aching pussy a quick lick, making you whine, as if he was analyzing your reaction, and then wets his lips to speak again, "Tell me how you want me to touch you, I need to know, yeah?,” you eagerly nod and he slowly, gently pushes your legs a little more apart and he leans in a little more between them, his breath warming your core before he buries himself on your pussy.
Chris starts soft, even gentle; moving his tongue up and down and sucking your bundle of nerves with his gaze fixed on you and your reactions to know if you’re liking his work, but with every whimper or moan that comes out of your mouth, he increases the intensity, reaching to the point that he’s eating you as if it was his first meal in years. The obscene sounds his mouth makes while sucking your clit and the way you squirm under him fills your room, together with the light of the moon coming in through the slightly open window and shining a light on Chris, making his eyes shine, are the only things your head can focus on right now. Every nerve of your body is connected to his mouth and there’s nothing more delicious, making you clench your fists in his soft hair.
“Fuckfuck, Chris, Chris-” is all you can manage to murmur in a soft moan, not feeling yourself in control of your own words as his chocolate glossy gaze’s still fixed on you, “Fingers, fingers please.” The sweet, impatient plea makes him feel proud; proud to have you moan and shiver like that, to have you writhing under him so nicely and a sound that’s between a satisfied moan and a soft, low laugh comes from his mouth as soon the word ‘fingers’ leaves your mouth. Chris immediately obeys, “Yeah, baby, I got you” purrs against your wetness, leaving a wet kiss before pulling himself away as he takes his right hand from your right thigh and bringing his middle and ring fingers to your folds; rubbing them to catch your juices mixed with their saliva and bring them to your lips. Chris doesn't have to say anything for you to open your mouth and start sucking his fingers as if it was the most important mission of your life.
“Such a good girl, mh?” he praises you again, watching intently with his pupils dilated the way you seem to enjoy savouring the mix, “I would never have guessed you were that nasty.” he teased, tilting his head slightly before slowly removing his fingers, now wet with your saliva, from your mouth and bringing them to you core. He moves them down your entrance, mocking you as you can feel how you clench around nothing and without any notice, slides them in a smooth motion, feeling how tight and warm you are.
Your eyebrows furrow at the sudden intrusion and you look at him with your mouth open, unable to say a word when he begins to move them inside you, curving them to easily hit your sweet spot, “Did I make you that excited?” he asks in a teasing tone while leans towards to place his lips on the crook of your neck, biting softly without looking away from you. A whiny “Chris- fuck yes” comes from your throat, one of your hands grips his wrist tightly; feeling in your grip how his muscles tense and relax as he moves his fingers and you close your eyes, still with your brows furrowed. "Keep… Saying my name, you sound… So pretty," he mutters between bites, his eyes fixed on your expressions as he picks up the speed of his fingers, "Will you keep being a good girl for daddy?”
Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. It echoes through your mind and you involuntarily cum around his fingers, making you both moan at the action at the same time that your fluids ran down Chris's wrist. Chris stops his work on your neck to raise his head and look at you carefully, a teasing smile on his face, "Did you just cum on my fingers because I called myself ‘daddy’?” his fingers lower the intensity, riding your orgasm and bringing you out breathless gasps.
Your eyes flutter, face completely flushed as you catch your breath from your sudden orgasm, not being able to articulate many words. When your eyes finally lock with his, his satisfied and teasing smile pronounces, “Don’t look at me like that,” you murmur as he brings his wet fingers to his mouth for a quick taste before licking them clean with one of his eyebrows raised. “You look cute,” Chris responds once he removes his fingers and slides his hand down your throat until he brings it to the side of your neck, cradling it while his mouth approaches your jaw to begin a route of kisses to your mouth, "But answer me."
“Yeah, yeah, I did,” he continues his path of kisses up to your mouth, gently biting your lower lip, “I thought so… Does it make you feel good to have daddy taking care of you?” he asks in a sweet tone, completely contrary to the weight of the phrase, before leaving a small kiss on your lips. You can’t help but purr softly a “Yes… Daddy,” that makes him kiss you again, smiling against your lips. Chris sits on his knees between your legs, still with his face close to yours and he takes your wrist in his free hand, bringing it to his black design boxers, letting you feel his thick hard cock under them, “You think your tight little pussy can handle me?,” you swallow, already imagining how it looks, but the moment he lets out your wrist and pulls his boxers down, leaning up straight for you to see him, your mouth and pussy wets again; a big red tip monster. You look at him with slightly widened eyes and he chuckles, “Small packages have big surprises, babe.”
The view in front of you is magnificent, to say the least; broad shoulders, muscular arms with some veins popping, delicious and big pecs that make the necklace you gift him look simple, abs where his hard cock collides with and that teasing look as he bites his lip, capturing all your reactions. Your skin crawls while you entrance clenchs again around nothing and you unconsciously open your legs more, to which he responds by pulling down his boxers completely and throwing them away.
Chris looks at your dripping pussy for a few seconds, swallowing the lump in his throat, “Liking what you see, princess?” asks with an arrogant smile, “You look delicious while mouth-watering yourself”. He leans over you again, slowly approaching the warmth of your body, lowering his head to press his lips to the sensitive skin of your neck and leaving a trail of small kisses until he reaches your ear. “Let’s see if daddy can make you mindless, shall we?” he whispers as his fingertips ghosts the skin of your thighs until he reaches your knees and grips them to lift your legs, placing them on his shoulders.
His grip loosens and his left hand lowers to his throbbing dick, pumping himself before lining himself up to your wet entrance as he rubbs his tip on your juices, "Tell me if it hurts, okay?" he whispers again against your ear, grabbing your waist and slowly pulling his hips towards you, entering his tip. He continues to bring his hips closer to yours until he fully enters and feels the way your walls receive him; squeezing him and in turn, soaking him. Both of you moan due to the new sensation and Chris lets his forehead rest on your shoulder, taking the opportunity to leave a love bite on the skin of your collarbone.
“You’re so tight… Fuck,” he says through his teeth while he feels your body adjusting to him and he lifts his head from your shoulder to lock his gaze with yours. His hair is disheveled and his eyes are slightly glossy, making him look more beautiful than usual. Your hands wander up his arms, going up to his shoulders and digging softly your nails, “Y-you can move,” you say in a plea and he didn’t need further instructions to start moving his hips at a slow pace, although it didn't last long.
The sticky sounds and skin crashing filling your ears as his dick goes in and out of your pussy at a speed your mind couldn't handle. He leans back to take a better look of you, his ego boosting at the way you’re under him letting out loud sounds. The moonlight seep throught the window, bathing his toned body, making the sweat on his skin almost shine as you look at him as if he was a god to worship. His hair falls over his forehead and eyes, which are still staring deep into yours when you arch your back by the new position. “C-chris- daddy? Fuckfuckfuck,” you mutter under your breath while he brings his right hand to you, putting his index and middle finger in your mouth, “Suck. I know you like to play with your mouth,” he commands to let a guttural sound out of his throat when your warm tongue embraces them and you start sucking.
He hums in satisfaction before taking his fingers out of your mouth and running them over your skin to your neck, leaving a trail of drool that makes you gasp at the sensation. Chris leans towards you again, his lips brushing yours, as he grips on your neck thightly, “Your little pussy needed my cock that bad?” he groans breathlessy, almost sounding like a growl, picking up his pace and starting hitting your sweet spot directly, that's where you can swear he's eyeing at you like you're his prey.
His breath hits your face while he bites his lip and you try to let out a word but he’s feral while his tip bullies your sensitive spot, so only moans come out of your lips that are getting louder and louder. Your grip on his shoulders begins to shake as you dig your nails harder into him and he brings the hand on your waist to your lower stomach, gently pressing down and making sure you feel everything as you squirm more under him. “You like that, mmh?” he groans again and you begin to feel how the overstimulation of sensations gathers in you, legs beginning to tremble, lips already open and walls that squeeze him with more force, you’re so close. Chris seems to feel it and picks up the pace again, bringing his face to the crook of your neck to start licking the hot sweaty skin, “Daddy, I- gonna c-” you try to say but he cuts you off with a soft “Cum, yeah? Cum on daddy’s cock, baby, I know you can- That’s it, good job. Good job, princess” he praises in a sweet tone as you reach the edge with the last loud moan, closing your eyes tightly and releasing your nails from his shoulders to let your arms fall to the mattress while gasping slightly.
Chris's grip on your neck loosens as he continues to crash on your body, quickly reaching his orgasm as well with a guttural moan. For a few seconds, everything else disappeared, and all that existed were you two and the feeling of the world exploding around you.
Then, slowly, reality began to creep back in, and with his tremblous touch he takes your legs off his shoulders to gently place them on the mattress before collapsing on top of you, burying further his face in your neck and wrapping his arms around you. The room was almost silent, save the soft noise of your breathings mixing together. It isn’t until Chris speaks that you could notice the faint sound of the cars and the traffic from the streets outside the building.
“Have I been too hard?” he mutters against your skin, his voice a little winded as both of you try to get yours heartbeats back under control. Your hands move to the back of his head, slowly stroking his hair as your bodies sank in sweat and heat that slowly ceased to exist, “Mh, no, everything was fine, Chris”, you assure with a tired smile, your own voice breathy and soft. He slowly moves from you just enough to raise his upper body and look at you, his chin gently resting on your chest as he does. Chan’s eyes run over your eyes, from your messy hair to your rosy cheeks and your shoulders where he can see the marks from his bites.
He moves one of his hands to push his hair back as his lips pull into a lazy smile before he separates himself from you, getting up from your bed to look for his boxers and put them on quickly, “Don’t move, I’m gonna clean you up… The towels are in the bathroom, right?” you nod while you watch him move in the dark towards the bathroom and return with a small towel in his hands. He picks up your panties from the floor before getting on the bed and start gently cleaning you, “You treat me like a baby,” you murmur to him between giggles as he puts your underwear back on and throws away the towel, looking at you with a smile before lying down next to you and covering both with the sheets, “That’s because I like babying you”.
Chan’s now lying on one side, his head resting on one of his forearms and the other hand absently drawing patterns on your bare belly as you lie on your back, “I’m sleepy” you complain as you move sligthy to lie on your side and face Chris. He moves closer to you, moving one arm under your neck to put you closer to him, pressing your chests while nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck. His right arm envelops your waist tight as a small yawn leaves his lips and he lets out a sigh, “Mmmh, I could get used to this,” he muses with a sleepy voice before leaving a small kiss on your head, and you feel how a wave of reality hits you, hard.
His words make your stomach stir, the realitzation of what has just happened between the two of you being too big to be real. You swallow with some difficulty and you close your eyes, suddenly too aware of his touch, his body around yours as he continues to run his hand affectionately up and down your back while your heart aches at his words; not because you didn’t feel the same, but because he loved you and you were going to break his. You can't help but feel guilty after everything that has happened; yet you can’t stop yourself from snuggling closer into his chest, as if hoping that by doing so you could bury it all to the back of your mind. Chan's hand moves to gently card through your hair, "You know I love you, right?" he mutters against your head, still in an almost sleepy tone, "I've been in love with you forever" he whispers as his lips nuzzle into the crown of your hair while his other arm hugs you tighter to his body, as if he also didn't want to let go.
You bite your lower lip hard and try to be as strong as possible so as not to start crying right there, in his arms, "I know... I've always been in love with you too." your voice is sincere, feelings transparent like a mountain river that has not yet been contaminated but still trembles a little. “Good... Because I’m not planning to give you up,” Chris murmurs, and even if you can’t see his face, you can feel the soft smile through the tone of his voice, still with his head burrowed on your hair. It’s impossible not to feel guilty and undeserving when he cuddles you so affectionately and whispers so lovingly into your hair.
In a short time, you began to feel Chan's soft breathing in your hair, indicating that he had fallen asleep and had left you alone with your internal storm, likewise, it did not take you that long to follow him and fall asleep in his arms, with your body heat.
The faint ray of light coming through the window together with the snoring of the body by your side woke you up, feeling groggy and slightly cold. You opened your eyes, finding yourself glued to Chris’ back, your nose burying in the back of his nape and your hand on his belly. He was like a little furnace that still irradiated heat while being sound asleep, and you could feel the muscles in his abdomen move when he breathed heavily; even under your hand. You carefully left his side, getting out of bed to open the closet and grab the first pajamas you found, feeling how your body gradually began to warm up in the cold morning.
You made your way to the bathroom to remove your completely ruined makeup and wash your face, noticing the marks on your neck and shoulders that had been completely ignored by you at night. You left there starting to feel disappointed again and totally guilty of yourself as you went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, your head felt like it was going to explode, your heart hurt like never before, and you couldn't walk very well. While the coffee maker fills your cup, with your head in your hands while your elbows are on the counter staring at the cup, you feel Chris’ arms around your waist from behind, burrying his face in your neck, murmuring a groggy “G’morning,” voice thick from sleep, to which you reply with a soft, "Morning".
His embrace around your waist is warm and comfortable, but you can't help but tense against him. In his still foggy mind, he doesn't seem to notice that something is wrong, "You smell nice," he mutters in your ear, before leaving a sleepy kiss on the crook of your neck, and that action only made you feel worse, as if the world was crushing you. Chan leaves another small kiss behind your ear before asking, "Did you sleep well?"
"Yes, yes, everything’s good, Chris, and you?" you say quickly, stopping the coffee maker to remove your cup and separate yourself from him. You sat on one of the chairs at the dining room table with your cup, completely ignoring the look of confusion that was beginning to form on his face, resting your elbows on the table again to put your head in your hands, "Make yourself a coffee if you want".
Chan walks over to the coffee machine and starts preparing himself a cup, but you can feel his gaze on you from time to time; even if you keep ignoring him. He then goes and sits across from you, in complete silence, his eyes studying the way you were avoiding his gaze to the point of not even looking at him, and then you can hear him take a deep breath before asking, “Is this the part where you tell me 'What happened yesterday shouldn't have happened and that it was a mistake’?”
Your heart clenches at how low and hurt his voice sounds, as if he’s already prepared for the worst, and it makes you feel more than terrible but unable to explain to him at the same time. You can’t see his face, but you’re sure his eyes are beginning to look at you with that dejected expression and it makes it very hard for you to hold your own facade even a second longer, “I… I can’t do this, I’m sorry. I told you I would regret it in the morning, and I am. I've been doing it since after we went to bed”.
The silence that follows your words feels like an eternal torture in which you can’t help but think of what Chris’ feeling, what he thinks of you. After a long minute, he finally speaks, and you can hear in his voice that he is holding back every emotion that runs through him to say something more, “You know… You were the one that took the first step last night. If you told me you would regret it after it, why... Why did you do it?,” but before you can answer, he continues, a dissappointed tone in his voice, "I know you think you’re not enough for me… But this is going too far, don’t you think? I’ve been chasing you for forever and when I finally get you, you do this to me? I- I just don’t understand you!" your stomach twists hearing the way his words start to crack at the end as he speaks, the frustration he feels towards you seeping through every syllable.
Chan stands up in a rush, almost knocking over his chair in the process, running one of his hands through his hair as he walks with short quick steps around the kitchen while the other rests on his hip, “God… I don’t even know what I expected after I saw you avoiding me the first thing,” he mutters, and you’re sure it wasn’t for you to hear, but you did anyway and it makes you feel like you’re shattering, and then he stops in front of you, “Look at me.” You know you have to face the consequences of your own actions, so you slowly raise your head, meeting his eyes for the first time since you woke up. His facial expression was a mixture of frustration and hopelessness, with a gaze you’ve never seen in him before. He takes a few seconds to just look at you as if trying to get some answer to the dozens of questions circling in his mind right now, and then he speaks again, “Why, after everything that happened last night… why are you pushing me away like this? Is it that hard to accept that I love you?” his question makes your heart drop to the pit of your stomach because it’s hard, excruciatingly hard to accept that the guy in front of you is hopelessly in love with you.
His words make you bite your lip to hold back a wave of tears as you finally let out a trembolous sigh, “I want to hear it from your own mouth. Why?” he murmurs with a stern but pained tone. You’ve never hated yourself as much as you do in this moment, seeing his beautiful eyes pleading for an answer, a reason, a damn explanation. It feels like a nightmare, like a cruel punishment, and the only thing you can do is keep staring at him silently as he continues, frustration growing in his voice, “You were the one who initiated everything; the first to move, the first to open up and let me in, and now you’re pushing me back again because you’re insecure?-” “You don't understand anything!” you cut him off, raising your voice and feeling a big ball form in your throat.
“You don't know how much it hurts to constantly compare yourself with all the women next to you, knowing that each and every one of them is better than me in every aspect. I don't want you to be with me! Can it get into your head?” the words come out of your mouth so fast that you don't know if Chris’ understanding you, “I already know that you don't love others, I know that you think that I am enough but can't you understand that I don't see myself like that? I already know it's my problem. That I’m the problem but I can't help but think like that.” At this point you’re standing up, both of your coffees going cold as you look into each other's eyes, sharing a different pain but same intensity.
Chan stares at you with a mix of hurt and confusion, his heart breaking with every word that falls from your lips. He has seen your doubts and fears before, but he didn't think they ran this deep, "I… I don’t understand why you would think this way…" he stutters, his voice quivering, "I've told you countless times how much you mean to me-". “It’s not about what you say, Chris. You can tell me I’m the most important thing in the world every day and I would still believe that I’m not!” you snap, your voice rising again as frustration, guilt and pain bubble over inside you, “I don’t know how many times I have to say I’m not good enough for you to get it” you continue before looking away from him, “So please… Leave.”
Chris falls silent at your words, a pang went through his chest like a dagger, the air in his lungs ceasing to exist and his entire being felt as if it was imploding. Your words echoed loudly in his mind and his eyes widening slightly, "What?" he mutters in an almost disbelieving tone. You avoid his gaze, your mind and heart in turmoil. You know you’re making a mistake, pushing him away like this, but yet, the crippling fear and doubt gnaws at your insides, “Leave,” you beg, in a pleading whisper, still refusing to look at him, “Just go.”
Chan’s completely and utterly stunned as realization sinks in. His eyes widen even more, and his entire body tenses as if hit by electricity. You’ve never seen this expression before, and it makes your heart sink into your stomach. For several seconds, he stays frozen in place, with a completely bewildered expression on his face, his mind trying to process your words, to believe what you just said. And then, softly, he whispers, “Are you seriously asking me to leave?” his voice is so low that it’s a contrast to the loud beat of your own heart. Your stomach twists painfully hearing his pained, disbelieving tone. You know you’re hurting him. That you just made the biggest mistake of your life. Still, you can’t find it in yourself to take it all back and apologize, your fear and insecurity still making you believe that this is the best for him, best to keep him at a safe distance away from your mess. So, you keep looking away from him, fighting to keep your voice steady as you answer hoarsely, “Yes, I want you to leave.”
There’s another second of complete silence. Even your own breaths sound too loud in the quiet of the kitchen, and you swear you can hear the sound of your own heart breaking along with his. Then, his voice, still low, said, "Why are you doing this to me?” his voice sounds broken as he steps closer to you, “I’ve done everything I can to show you how I feel, to prove you wrong… and it's never enough, is it?" he stops right in front of you, but he doesn't try to touch you, just staring at the top of your head.
“I’m sorry, Chris, really.”
Chan keeps staring at you for several more seconds, the silence growing heavier with every moment passing. He closes his eyes and takes a deep, shuddering breath, and you can almost feel the turmoil of emotions in him; his heart bleeding with each passing beat, the pain of your words stabbing through him like a knife. After what feels like an eternity, he opens his eyes, and speaks again, his voice quivering, “Will you look at me?” you can hear the raw pain in his voice, the way it’s cracking, and it makes you want to run your fingers through his hair, hold him tight to your chest. But you don’t do any of those things. You raise your gaze slowly, almost unwillingly, and almost regret it the moment you look into his face, seeing his beautiful face twisted with an expression of pure suffering, his eyes glittering with restrained tears that break your heart even more, and you almost have to bite your tongue to hold back the tears rising in your own eyes as you see the way he’s looking at you.
He’s trying, with all his might, to keep it together. To hold back tears, to keep his own emotions inside him. But he can’t. He can’t stop the corners of his eyes from dampening, the way his bottom lip quivers, or the way his voice breaks when he speaks again,
“I love you. Please, don’t forget it...”
You saw in his eyes how he hesitated whether to kiss you or simply hold your face with his hands but he didn't do any of that. He looked at you, giving you the best smile he could give you at that moment before leaving you alone in the kitchen.
You heard him getting dressed in your room but everything was like a distant noise and muffled by the way you began to cry silently.
The sound of the front door closing was the trigger for you to start sobbing, realizing that you were now totally alone.
In your apartment and in your life.
#bangchan smut#skz#skz x reader#skz fanfic#skz bang chan#skz chris#skz channie#skz chan x reader#skz fic#stray kids#stray kids smut#chan smut#chris smut#christopher bang#bang chan#first post#!!!#hola marina tqm
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𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐡—𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘹 (𝘧𝘦𝘮) 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
A Stray Kids one shot
Synopsis: Chan comes back home from the Gym, making up his mind to divert his head from a lingering insecurity about his body by working all night. But you make him realise how much you love his Greek God physique.
Warnings: Smut🔞 Body insecurities, kisses, hickeys, oral (m.receiving), praising.
Minors do not interact!!!
Note: This one shot was requested by this ask, thank you so much for dropping this idea on my inbox!!
If this isn't your thing, you're more than welcome to skip it. Reblogs, likes, comments and feedbacks are always appreciated.
ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴘᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.
Word count: 2.3k
𝑬𝑵𝑱𝑶𝒀!
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The scent of the lavender candle spread across the atmosphere of the warm living room as you sat on the couch, wrapped in a cozy blanket and your book, waiting for your boyfriend to come back home from the Gym.
After a lovely lunch and cuddles, Chan decided to hop into the gym for a quick session for the week.
Your eyes read across the pages of the book, your mind concentrating on getting lost in the world of fiction when the sound of the keys on the front door distracted you.
The door opened and Chan entered, looking tired after his workout session but still devastatingly attractive. His loose t-shirt clung to his damp skin and his hair was tousled from the effort. His gym bag hung from his shoulder, he gave you a soft smile when he saw you curled up on the couch.
"Hey, baby," he said, his voice low and warm as he dropped his bag by the door and kicked off his shoes.
"Hi, Chan," you replied, setting your book aside and pulling the blanket tighter around you. "Tough session?”
He shrugged, walking toward you and sinking down onto the couch with a heavy sigh. His muscles flexed as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Just... needed to clear my head."
You frowned, sensing the heaviness in his tone. Sliding closer, placing your cheek on his arm, feeling the heat radiating off him. "What's on your mind?"
He hesitated, his gaze fixed on the floor. "It's nothing," he muttered, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed him.
"Chan," you said softly, tilting your head to catch his eyes. "Talk to me.”
He finally looked up, his dark eyes swirling with vulnerability. "It's stupid," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I’ve been feeling off about how I look lately. Like I’m not enough."
Your heart clenched at his words. "What?" you said, incredulous. "Chan, you’re the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. And not just because of how you look—though let me tell you, your body is like a freaking work of art."
A faint smile tugged at his lips, but he still looked uncertain. "You’re just saying that.”
"No," you insisted, sliding into his lap and straddling him, the blanket falling away. Your hands rested on his broad shoulders as you leaned in, your lips hovering over his.
"I mean it.”
Chan brushed a stray strand of hair being your ear, his eyes never leaving yours. “You always making me feel good with your words sweetheart. But I think it's just me. I could do better… I'll just do some work to get it off my head.”
He said softly, as if he was accepting defeat to his insecurities and no way in hell you're going to make him feel that way.
“Chan…” You let your lips brush his, a soft, teasing kiss that made him shudder unexpectedly, his gaze turning dark. “Every inch of you drives me crazy. And if you don’t believe me…”
Your lips trailed down to his jawline and neck. Your hands roamed over his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles through his tank top.
"...I’ll just have to show you.”
Chan let out a shaky breath, his hands finding your waist as his eyes darkened with intensity. “Baby,”
Before he said anything, you placed your index finger on his lips, hushing him. “Shh… you always make me feel good Chan. Tonight it's my turn.”
From explosive nights to loving mornings, Chan always made you feel like the centre of his world. He would never make you question anything about yourself. But when he does it to himself? Now that's unfair.
Chan groaned against your lips, his grip on your waist tightening as he pulled you closer. His body was warm beneath you, his skin damp from his workout but still so inviting. You kissed him harder, pouring every ounce of love and admiration into it, desperate to erase the doubts that had crept into his mind.
You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, your hands moving to cup his face. "You don’t see yourself the way I see you," you murmured. "Every time I look at you, I see strength, kindness, and beauty. And that body of yours? It’s a masterpiece, Chan. Don’t you ever doubt that.”
He exhaled deeply, his hands sliding under your shirt to rest on your bare skin. “You’re impossible,” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke.
“And you’re irresistible,” you countered, tugging his t-shirt upward.
He hesitated for a moment, a soft pink blooming his cheeks and a flicker of doubt crossing his features, but you didn’t let him pull away. “Nope. None of that,” you said firmly. “You’re perfect, Chan. Let me love you, please.”
Your plea sent something electric shooting straight through his body, after another second of hesitation, you took the black t-shirt over his head, your eyes drinking in the sight in front of you.
How can this man question his body? He was breathtaking in every possible way. Broad shoulders, chiselled, defined abs any man would envy. He was everything.
You kissed him again, this time slower, more deliberate. Your lips moved against his as your hands explored his shoulders and chest.
"Baby..." he breathed as you began trailing kisses down his jawline and neck, sucking on his sensitive skin leaving purplish red marks, your tongue flicking out to taste the salty sheen of his skin.
When your lips met his Adam's apple, it moved up and down as he let out a low, guttural groan, his head tipping back to give you better access. Your tongue traced the curve of his throat before your teeth grazed the skin, drawing a shiver from him.
His body trembled under your touch, and you could feel his self-control slipping. "You're driving me insane," Chan murmured, his hands gripping your waist as if anchoring himself to reality.
"Good," you whispered against his skin, your lips curving into a smile as you continued your slow exploration. "That’s exactly what I’m trying to do."
Your hands slid down his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath your fingertips. You leaned back just slightly to admire him, your gaze roaming over every dip and curve of his torso. The soft candlelight accentuated the sharp lines of his abs and the strength of his arms.
You slowly started moving downwards, making a trail of hot wet kisses down his chest, your tongue flicking ever so softly over his areola, nails tracing his hard abs. Your fingers came back up to gently play with his nipples, Chan let out a heavy sigh.
You couldn't help but smirk at the way you have almost full control over him, finally and wondrously making all the way down, trailing kisses and licking every muscle of his abs, your lips reaching all the dips and valleys it could.
You kneeled before him as your hands played with his belt, your eyes flicked up to meet his.
Chan’s breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling as he watched you with a mix of anticipation and adoration. The candle and the dim light cast shadows across his sharp features, making him look almost unreal, like a god brought to life, sculpted just for you.
Your fingers worked deftly, unbuckling his belt and sliding it free that made him tense. "You okay, Christopher?" you teased, your voice low and sultry.
He let out a shaky laugh, running a hand through his messy hair. The way you said his name, in that voice you only use when you take charge, made him dizzy.
"You’re making it really hard to think right now.”
"Relax Chris. I wanna show you how much I love you," you replied, pulling his shorts down revealing his Calvin Klein boxers. You leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the V definition, your lips lingering as your hands roamed over his thighs and palmed his growing bulge.
Chan groaned louder, his hands gripping the edge of the couch as he fought to keep his composure. "You’re really something else, you know that?"
"Only for you," you whispered, your breath warm against his skin.
You slid his shorts down further, your fingers continuing to brush against the growing hardness beneath the fabric of his boxers. Chan hissed softly at the contact, his head tipping back as he let you take the lead.
"You’re so handsome," you murmured, your hands gliding over his thighs and up to his hips. "Do you have any idea how much I love every part of you?"
His eyes met yours again, and for a moment, all his insecurities seemed to fade. "I think I’m starting to believe it," he said softly, his voice filled with gratitude and something deeper, something that made your heart ache in the best way.
Your lips curled into a satisfied smile, “And I’m not stopping until you do.”
Chan inhaled a long breath when you leaned forward, pressing another kiss to his hipbone before sliding his boxers down, your touch gentle and revealing his beautiful, velvet shaft proudly springing free from the confines.
Fuck.
He was impossibly hard, veins running through his length, the soft tip already leaking pre cum making your mouth water, ready to take him.
You stacked your hands on the base of his cock, kissing and licking the pretty tip before fully taking him in. Chan's head fell back, his hands gripping the couch, chest rising and falling, his length hardening more.
You started slow, swirling your tongue around the sensitive head, savouring the salty taste of him mixed with the faint hint of his cologne still radiating off his skin.
Chan’s breath hitched, a deep groan escaping his lips as you wrapped your lips around him, taking him in torturous inch by inch into your mouth.
"Fuck, baby," he muttered, his voice strained with pleasure. His hands twitched at his sides, resisting the urge to thread them through your hair and guide your movements.
But he didn’t need to—you were perfectly in control, and it was driving him insane.
You hollowed your cheeks, creating a delicious suction as you bobbed your head enthusiastically, your hands working in tandem to cover what your mouth couldn’t. Chan’s hips jerked slightly, a low growl escaping him as he let go of the last shreds of his restraint.
"God, you feel so good.” His voice was thick and unfolded like layers of velvet.
Your eyes flicked up to meet him as you hummed around him and stroked the faintish hairy skin above his length sending down vibrations that made his entire body shudder.
The sight of him, his head tilted back, the perfect view of the column of his hickey covered throat, parted lips, chest heaving, defined torse was enough to spur you on.
You increased your pace, your tongue sliding along the underside of his shaft, tracing every vein and ridge. Your warm mouth on his cock made blood rush through his body like an erratic tsunami, all his insecurities washing away like sand under the tide.
Chan’s hands finally found their way to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he let out a broken moan.
"I’m not gonna last if you keep doing that," he warned, his voice rough and thick like gravel.
You pulled back slightly, letting your tongue press and circle around the tip of his length before releasing him with a soft pop. Your hand replaced your mouth, stroking him slowly as you smiled up at him.
"I love how you feel down my throat," you teased, your voice sounding gentle yet so sexy, he let out a shaky laugh, his head falling back against the couch.
Your entire focus was making Chan feel like a king, you continued your pace on sucking on his cock, your movements becoming more fervent as you worked him closer and closer to the edge.
Every moan, every curse that spilled from his lips was music to your ears, and you felt your own arousal pooling as you lost yourself in the act of loving him.
"Baby... I’m so close, fuck," he panted, his tightening grip finding its way back into your hair as his thighs trembled beneath your touch. His moans grew louder, more desperate, filling the room as he surrendered completely to the pleasure you were giving him.
With one final swirl of your tongue and a firm stroke of your hand, you felt him tense, his body going rigid as he let out a shuddering gasp. White warmth spilled down your throat, and you swallowed every drop of his cum like you had starved, savouring the taste as you milked him through his release.
Chan collapsed back against the couch, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. You slowly pulled back, strings of saliva attaching from your lips onto his length.
Wiping the corner of your mouth with a satisfied smirk, you leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to his quivering abdomen. And one for each ridge of his defined abs.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.
"You’re flawless, my Chan.” You chuckled, brushing your lips against the sensitive spot just beneath the tip.
He let out a breathless laugh, his head—both of them—buzzing with the aftershocks. His hand reached out to pull you up into his arms. "You’re gonna be the death of me," he said, his tone rough, looking almost shell shocked.
"Not a bad way to go," you teased, nuzzling into his neck as his arms wrapped around you, holding you close.
Chan kissed the top of your head, his voice steady and warm as he whispered, "Thank you. For loving me the way you do."
"I will always love you." You replied, your heart swelling with adoration as you both basked in the afterglow of the moment.
"I want you to see yourself the way I see you," you murmured, your voice soft but firm. "Strong. Gorgeous. Perfect."
Chan smiled warmly, his heart swelling with adoration, the room filling with nothing but the sound of ragged breaths as your mouths collided and the lingering scent of the lavender candle.
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‘’ The camera woman zooming in on the bright red Lightning McQueen crocs he was wearing. ‘’ ¿? JSLSJSKSSJ
‘’ not even in private but in an interview with multiple cameras pointed at him’’ :D
‘’ You fought a straight face, holding in laughter and trying to stay as serious as you could, but you were about to break any second.’’ CUTEE
‘’ “You’re the best F1 driver I’ve ever interviewed.”
“I’m the only F1 driver you’ve ever interviewed.” KAJSAJSJSJAJ
‘’ finalizing the last public appearance the two of you would have next to each other. A bittersweet ending.’’ oh :(
‘’ But you always had the Jason laying with you on your couch. Feeding each other dinners, taking motorcycle rides late in the night. ‘’ I would even accept a whole book about them just full of moments like this
“After all, you gifted me something so…special.” (?
‘’It’s almost like you want to see me.” SHHH
“I’ll come back when I win, it’ll be our little secret.” AAAAAAAAAAA
‘’ the cameras focused in on his face and your reactions.’’ caught in hd jsjsjsj
‘’ He was his playful self, the signature half smirk trying to get you to blush, but his eyes were soft when he glanced over to you.’’ I want to keep this little moment in a place where I can rewatch it every time I want
‘’ you leaned toward Jason, pausing to eye his figure up and down, gleefully watching him pay attention to your every word. Your smile getting wider at how easily he was wrapped around your finger.’’ aaaaAAAAAA
THESE TWO FLIRTING AND I FEEL LIKE I'M THIRD WHEELING
‘’ Jason lit the hallway to opportunities for you.’’ Aw :,)
‘’ Happy, but bittersweet.
You reminded yourself that Jason’s off-season was ending.’’ noooo :(
‘’ You let Jason fake his ignorance through certain tasks, giving him any reason to get you close to him.’’ kssksksj
‘’ You would have to watch him race lap after lap on live television like the rest of the world. He was leaving soon, you knew he would be busy, it was inevitable, but you wanted as much time before he left.’’ I’m happy he’s going to race again but also I’m going to cry
To reply to your note in the beginning about being good at writing angst, I can tell now, I can feel it sksjsksk
‘’ Jason unconsciously acknowledged, resting his hand over yours around his stomach. Rubbing the fabric of his gloves onto yours.’’ MY HEART
‘’ It was green, but you stayed there, no other traffic surrounding you.
Just you and Jason.’’ this whole scene was so pretty
‘’ Maybe you could wear Jason’s clothes after a nice warm shower.’’ hehehe :D
Why did I think they were going to find something they won’t like once they get to his place, I hate it
‘’ You suddenly remembered the last time you and Jason were enclosed in a garage, close to each other, messy from a hard day of distributing winter jackets and food to those who stopped by’’ HEHEHE :D
“There’s no volunteers to interrupt us now.” I’m going to faint
‘’ The feeling of your lips, your sides, his body between your legs?’’ I fainted I swear
‘’ You could only laugh as Jason desperately tried to get the shirt through your arms.’’ GIGGLING IN THIS VERY MOMENT, I LOVE THEM
“I want to turn you into a mess.” Please take everything
‘’ After a shared warm shower, Jason gave you a nice pair of his dry clothes.’’ Mission accomplished
‘’ You walked around his place, relaxed after Jason’s…expertise.’’ KSJSKASJSJSJ
“I’m happy you’re here.” MY HEART
‘’ Jason chuckled, hugging you from behind smelling like the same soap in your hair, his face nuzzling into your neck. (…) When you walked around, Jason following you like a duckling’’ he’s so cute aaaaa
‘’You more than liked it. It smelt like Jason. A smell you’ll never grow tired of.’’ How can I get inside this fic please I need answers
‘’ Matching plushies, a book you picked randomly, a bookmark you gifted him, and a tiny paper frog you made while waiting for your table before dinner.’’ MY CRYINGGGG
‘’ He was more clingy than usual tonight.’’ I can’t help but worry about what’s about to come when I should be enjoying this
“When I asked around about it, they said Wayne Enterprises had it delivered.” Ugh no
‘’ Taking over the hard work he had volunteered for months.
Another sanctuary was being taken away from Jason’s grasp.’’ Nooo:(
‘’ Shared kisses, lost in each other’s presence, too occupied to notice the multiple buzzing sounds from Jason’s phone.’’ OH NONONO
‘’ It was a photo of his Lightning McQueen crocs on the plane. A big contrast to the fancy carpeting, expensive seats, and an up-to-date screen playing the children’s movie.’’ SJSJJS I love him
I’m so happy he’s back racing
‘’ The difference in your lifestyles hitting you. He was a rich racer, traveling the world in one of the most expensive suits in modern racing. (…) You felt…small. (…) How far was this relationship going? (…) Should you follow him? (…) What about your job?’’ honey don’t go that way :(
‘’ (Handsome) Mr. Todd: fast is the only way I go. you, especially, should know that ;)’’ this man I swear
‘’ Jason was busy going to opening days, press conferences, driving on the racetrack. His replies were becoming sparse.’’ Stop aaaaa
‘’ “I just saw— paper frogs that—vendor—the street and—grab some.” Jason’s voice went in and out of your mind, fighting the urge to sleep.’’ I’m happy he found some free time to call
‘’ Apparently, it had been a video call, but you hadn’t realized after you woke up this morning.
Jason not only heard you embarrass yourself, but he saw it too.’’ noooo JSJSSJSJ
‘’Putting on the shirt that smelled like Jason’’ <3
Racing Hearts Pt. 4
f1!driver!jason x reporter!reader
A/N: hello my gremlins <3 i wanted to share with u guys that i successfully moved YAY so that explains the update being slightly behind and the less responses i’ve given to comments (i read them all i swear <3) BUT HERE IT IS \(^o^)/ i took way too long to edit and rewrite the way i believe the story should go, im having so much fun with this series and i want to thank all of u who are supporting it from the beginning or saw the updates as they came. ENJOY the fourth chapter of the Racing Hearts series (ALSO THERE’S 300 FOLLOWERS WOW 🥹 THANK U TO ALL THE PEOPLE THAT LIKE MY PAGE AND CONTINUE TO SUPPORT MY CRAZY SAD WRITING AND MY DRAWINGS i love reading your funny comments, unhinged reblogs, and talking about your favorite parts of the story, it really gave me the push to write and contribute to the jason todd community) and i just wanted to remind yall…i haven’t forgotten about that hurt/comfort tag :)
Check out the Racing Hearts masterlist! It shows all the updated chapters and upcoming ones <3
Tags: banter, agonizing fluff, hurt/comfort, strangers to friends to lovers, spicy if u squint, we’re hitting halfway thru the story so let me introduce what i do best…angst HAHAHA
Word Count: 4.1k
“In all of my career, I have to say that I never thought I would be standing here wearing…these.” Jason looked down to his feet.
The camera focused on the two of you standing next to one another, the lens following Jason’s stare toward the ground. The camera woman zooming in on the bright red Lightning McQueen crocs he was wearing.
You sheepishly admired the shoes, proudly smiling back up to Jason. Bewilderment plastered on his face as he couldn’t believe you actually gifted him Lightning McQueen merch, not even in private but in an interview with multiple cameras pointed at him.
What a predicament he was in. He was definitely not offended when you told him how similar the red car and he were.
“It’s a small thanks from the company for completing your third interview with us.” You smiled brightly at Jason. “Also consider it as a way for us to say ‘good luck’ for your upcoming season.”
Jason couldn’t believe it as he laughed. No matter how much time he spent with you, you always surprised him in the best ways.
“Y’know, I thought the Cars jokes were going to fade out, but you’re a bad influence on my fans.” Jason lightheartedly teased you, stomping his foot enough to let the crocs light up.
You fought a straight face, holding in laughter and trying to stay as serious as you could, but you were about to break any second. You bit the inside of your cheeks to prevent yourself from smiling, internally promising yourself that you would make sure to get a picture of him later.
You already had his new contact picture picked out.
“I couldn’t think of any other way of showing you my support.” You nodded your head proudly.
“Really? Nothing else?” Jason’s eyebrow rose, his tone sarcastic.
“You’re the best F1 driver I’ve ever interviewed.” You smirked, watching the shoes sparkle.
“I’m the only F1 driver you’ve ever interviewed.” Jason looked at you in disbelief.
“Anyway! We’re closing this as the last part of our series, I’m glad you were able to be a guest before you get busy putting on the RedBull uniform again, I know your fans will really enjoy that—” You wrapped up the finale, finalizing the last public appearance the two of you would have next to each other. A bittersweet ending.
But you always had the Jason laying with you on your couch. Feeding each other dinners, taking motorcycle rides late in the night.
“This can’t be the last time I see you. You’re my favorite interviewer.” Jason lulled his voice, rephrasing your earlier comment back at you. “After all, you gifted me something so…special.”
You paused, shocked at Jason’s forwardness with you, the timber of his voice adding an underlying flirty tone to him.
You’ve never talked to him about the public appearance about the two of you. Could you go public?
It’s for the camera. You silently told yourself.
“You have to win for me to see you again.” You smirked, quickly playing along with his attempt to fluster you.
“That’s too easy, you could try to make this a little harder for me.” Jason chuckled lowly. “It’s almost like you want to see me.”
Oh my.
“So much talk for someone who hasn’t started his comeback season.” You playfully rolled your eyes. “You also didn’t start your last season smoothly, so don’t talk so confidently.”
“But who sat at my last press conference celebrating my win? I don’t end things so easily.” Jason tilted his head as he looked down at you, tension increasing. “I’ll come back when I win, it’ll be our little secret.”
Jason winked at you, the cameras focused in on his face and your reactions.
You raised an eyebrow, trying to decipher between the RedBull Jason on camera and your Jason.
He was his playful self, the signature half smirk trying to get you to blush, but his eyes were soft when he glanced over to you.
You calmly gave in, maybe it was for the camera or maybe it was for you.
“Aw, that’s so sweet, but I don’t think I could keep that a secret.” Your polite smile opposing Jason’s mischievous one. “I don’t think you realize but,” you leaned toward Jason, pausing to eye his figure up and down, gleefully watching him pay attention to your every word. Your smile getting wider at how easily he was wrapped around your finger. “I’m a reporter, I can’t keep that beautiful face to myself.”
“But I’m really good at keeping them.” Jason stepped closer, eyes never leaving yours.
His eyes beamed a playful hue to them.
You cleared your throat, looking at the camera woman who also stared in awe.
Crap, the office was going to get suspicious.
“You should focus on winning first before you make any promises.” You coughed, diffusing the atmosphere Jason created as the film crew watched. “Then call my business number and you don’t have to keep any secrets.”
Once the camera stopped rolling, you resumed your professionalism. Saying goodbyes and getting final pictures for the website and both social medias.
All the previous interviews went well. The fans saw Jason’s personality in action, gaining more attention and love for the racer. Jason’s management team was satisfied with you and the attraction he was gaining before the season started.
It gave him the right press he needed to put him in the spotlight.
After Jason left with his management team, you finalized the video upload that his company agreed to. Your draft for a new article about Jason to be edited and reviewed for the upcoming week. It was business as usual.
Getting work done during the day, then meeting Jason for the evening.
When you got back to your desk, you organized yourself to overlook the release date for the final interview and reviewed for the next big project to tackle now that your work with Jason was finished. Multiple meetings with project managers and your team.
Work was picking up for you, managing larger projects, interacting with larger faces.
Jason lit the hallway to opportunities for you.
Your phone lit up next to your laptop, distracting you from one screen to another.
(Handsome) Mr. Todd: pick you up at 6?
You smiled to yourself. Happy, but bittersweet.
You reminded yourself that Jason’s off-season was ending. You wished time could slow down.
—— “Gosh, you’re so clumsy.” You adjusted Jason’s helmet. All the time spent with him reflected in your familiarity with the motorcycle helmet.
“Only for you.” Jason stood there, leaning down to let you reach around his head. Watching you worry about the two of you.
Jason had kept his promise to pick you up.
Most of the time he waited on you to get back from work. Sometimes pushing the boundaries and secretly meeting you for a quick lunch. Meeting him far from where your coworkers frequented.
Your first encounters were hidden behind the idea of work, finding answers to questions for interviews, or suggesting new places to eat.
It was like you couldn’t be apart from one another.
Oh, how you can change a man.
You let Jason fake his ignorance through certain tasks, giving him any reason to get you close to him.
But you gave into his every attempt. Not fighting against his clinginess.
Your roles would switch soon, he wouldn’t wait for you after tiring days of work. You would have to watch him race lap after lap on live television like the rest of the world.
He was leaving soon, you knew he would be busy, it was inevitable, but you wanted as much time before he left.
You sat behind Jason, his body warming the front of you as you wrapped your arms around his waist.
Holding onto him close, wearing the helmet he got you, feeling his solid stomach shift the motorcycle as you rode around the city. You were getting used to your new lifestyle, despite the hidden secrets you shared.
He couldn’t announce a relationship after you were waiting for the last installment of your interviews.
The timing wasn’t right and the meetings this would cause for you and Jason were going to give you a headache.
You heard the motorcycle engine interrupt your thoughts.
Jason slowing at a red light. He stopped, placing his feet on the ground to stabilize the two of you while you waited. The red glow reflected onto Jason sitting in front of you.
The streets were almost empty. Gotham barely waking to the darkness, a city that never sleeps.
“Jay.” You hesitated behind him.
“Hm?” Jason unconsciously acknowledged, resting his hand over yours around his stomach. Rubbing the fabric of his gloves onto yours.
“I want to stay with you longer.” You calmed your voice, careful in verbalizing your feelings.
“You want to drive around more? I think we can drive by—“ Jason continued to rub your wrists. Cars passing in front of him, the opposing traffic keeping you still.
“No, I don’t want to leave you tonight.”
Jason paused, his hand resting on yours, no longer moving. If the cars weren’t in front of you, crossing the intersection, you would have thought time was frozen.
Jason tilted his helmet back, to get a look at you.
You don’t know what he was looking for, your face covered by a protective helmet like his was, but he found what he needed when the light turned green.
It was green, but you stayed there, no other traffic surrounding you.
Just you and Jason.
“Want to come to my place?” Jason kept his black visor on you. “I have a killer TV to watch Cars on.”
You chuckled. Squeezing his waist a little more.
“Better have a good speaker for playing Life is a Highway.”
Jason smirked, hidden from your eyes as he watched you lean back into his warmth.
The humid air covering the two of you into summer clothing. Thinner fabrics and showing more skin.
Jason wore a simple fitted thin long-sleeve, matching the look of his helmet and gloves. It made a great view of his broad back.
A quiet exhale as he looked forward again, revving his engine to life to make a quick turn, opposite of your home.
You were racing the rain as Jason was taking you back, but after you spoke the magic words, how could he send you back home?
The dark summer rain clouds were no longer behind you, the two of you heading straight for them as you watch Jason take you down new streets, an unfamiliar path to Jason’s place.
“I don’t think you’ll make it to the living room before then.” Jason quietly spoke to the light drizzle hitting your bodies
“What did you say?” You couldn’t hear above the engine.
And he was right.
After you were soaked to the bone, fabric sticking to your form, water droplets falling down your skin. A glossy sheen from the harsh rain falling all around you.
Jason had pulled into his garage.
He was in the same state, wet clothes stuck to his skin. The water from you and the motorcycle dripping onto the concrete floor.
You pulled your helmet off, the only dry place.
Once Jason parked the bike, he took off his helmet, placing it on the nearest work table. Your body shivered as you threw your leg over to maneuver yourself off.
You looked down at your state, smiling in disbelief at being caught in the rain.
Maybe you could wear Jason’s clothes after a nice warm shower. You internally thought to yourself. Excited to enter Jason’s place. A new location unlocked.
When you put your helmet next to Jason’s, you could finally take in all of him.
Black shirt tight from the weight of the water, his hands littered with scars, free from the gloves. His hair dry, but messy.
All his muscles more prominent.
You stood in awe, your chest rising from the breaths you took. Humid air invading the inside of the garage, elevated from warm summer nights.
The sight of Jason reminded you of the professional pictures taken of him, leaving his Formula 1 car after a race. He was sweaty, running his hands through his hair with a towel in hand.
After all the time you spent together, it was your favorite photo of him. You secretly saved it because there was something about the look on his face, happy to win, alive on the track.
How attractive he looked was a definite bonus in your opinion.
Jason glanced over to you, finally realizing the state the two of you were in. He slowly looked you up and down, lost in the same visual you were in awe of once you saw him.
You suddenly remembered the last time you and Jason were enclosed in a garage, close to each other, messy from a hard day of distributing winter jackets and food to those who stopped by.
A slight warmth increasing on your face.
Jason stepped closer to you, hands grabbing for your waist to pull you in. His hands reaching under your chin to stretch your neck to adjust to his height.
Breaths mixing as your lips touched only from the movement of your lips unconsciously opening, ready to kiss him.
He waited.
Letting the pressure build as he spoke.
“There’s no volunteers to interrupt us now.” Jason lifted you, letting you sit on the surface of his work table. His arm swooping everything off as he cleared enough room for you.
You could hear objects fall, but you couldn’t care less as Jason stepped between your legs. Quickly, but carefully rubbing at your legs with his palms, his hands getting closer to the blurs of where your thighs met your waist.
Everywhere felt great that you didn’t know where to focus.
The feeling of your lips, your sides, his body between your legs?
You could only huff between the intensity he was igniting in you.
“Jay—inside—it’s cold.”
Despite your words, you didn’t bother to move. You kept touching, feeling everything before Jason lifted you again, the placement of his hands as he carried you, lifting the edges of your shirt.
The feeling of a mattress beneath you as you uncomfortably tried to peel the clothing off your body.
Jason chuckled at your frustration. You couldn’t bother to give him a snide remark as he also struggled to get your soaked clothes off.
When lifting the shirt didn’t work, you tried rolling the fabric, but it only bunched just below your sleeves.
You could only laugh as Jason desperately tried to get the shirt through your arms. Tangled in the mess you both created that you were left with a heavy shirt stuck around your biceps.
“Why is there always something stopping me from seeing all of you?” Jason laughed as he kneeled above you, his shirt completely off at some point along the way to his room.
“I don’t think a pair of wet clothes are going to stop you now.” You smiled at him, glancing up at his figure through the darkness. Only the city lights creeping through the blinds, illuminating his skin.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” Jason yanked your entire shirt off your arms.
You sucked in a breath at his desperation, memorizing the look of his face as he leaned down closer.
“I want to turn you into a mess.” He whispered into your mouth, kissing down your body.
Overwhelming gasps and breaths left your mouth the more he touched your skin.
“I want to touch you too.” You exhaled, trying to coherently express yourself.
“Next time, sweetheart. I want to focus on you. Everything I want is you.” Jason moved your hair out of your face, stuck from the sweat covering your skin.
The night filled with you repeating Jason’s name, no distractions keeping that man off of you.
After a shared warm shower, Jason gave you a nice pair of his dry clothes. You walked around his place, relaxed after Jason’s…expertise.
What you weren’t prepared for was just how normal his apartment looked. It felt like yours, but bigger, a little more luxurious like it was bought with the intention of having better quality to last longer.
You hoped he had no plans of moving anytime soon.
You stood in the kitchen in awe.
“You have a kitchen island.” You whistled in excitement. “Formula 1 money is good, huh? Maybe I need to pick up a Redbull uniform.”
Jason chuckled, hugging you from behind smelling like the same soap in your hair, his face nuzzling into your neck. You continued to speak.
“No, I can’t steal your fame.” You whispered to yourself. Jason feeling the vibration of your voice the longer he leaned into your neck.
“I’m happy you’re here.” Jason mumbled into you, ignoring everything you said.
“Me too, I’ve been curious where you live.”
“I invited you before, but I guess we’ve always gone to your place.” Jason smiled into your skin. “What do you think?”
“Its very…Jason. I like it.” You glanced around.
You more than liked it. It smelt like Jason. A smell you’ll never grow tired of.
His apartment was slightly bare, the space a little too large for the one man, but that was charming too. It felt like you were able to occupy that small empty space in his life.
When you walked around, Jason following you like a duckling, you noticed the small knick-knacks you bought with him on your dates.
Matching plushies, a book you picked randomly, a bookmark you gifted him, and a tiny paper frog you made while waiting for your table before dinner.
You felt cherished, looking at the physical representations of your memories together.
He grabbed you again, wanting the closeness. You fell back into him, the small paper frog in your hand, made from old receipt paper.
Jason resumed his prior back hug, absorbing your warmth.
He was more clingy than usual tonight.
“How was your trip to the charity today? I forgot to ask you about it at dinner, it must be hard to take a break from them to race again.” You leaned into him more.
Jason buried himself further. Not a great hiding spot since he was larger, but it was the thought that counted.
“I would love to hear about it.” You put the frog back on the shelf, letting it watch the two of you.
“It was good, I got to do one final check to make sure everything would be good when I’m gone. But…” Jason hesitated, squeezing you a little tighter.
You waited, rubbing circles on his forearm.
“I had noticed a lot of stuff come in, it’s a good thing, but it wasn’t like our usual haul. I didn’t recognize it as the stuff I brought over either.” Jason breathed, agitation filling his voice. “When I asked around about it, they said Wayne Enterprises had it delivered.”
Jason went silent. He was tense.
“I always tell that old man to fuck off. He never listens.” Jason sighed.
The last thing Jason wanted was another check from Bruce. Taking over the hard work he had volunteered for months.
Another sanctuary was being taken away from Jason’s grasp.
“I can’t stand it.” Jason whispered. His eyebrows taut.
You maneuvered your head back to kiss him on the cheek.
“I’m sorry, I know that was the last thing you wanted to happen.” You soothed.
Jason leaned in for more kisses.
“Don’t worry, I’m feeling better already.” He exhaled, his shoulders relaxing. Jason smiled into your skin, his voice returning to normal. “But looking at those damn crocs every morning makes me mad.”
You laughed as he grew bolder, pushing the topic aside as you leaned to the floor buried from Jason’s affection surge.
If he was deflecting, distracting himself from his hurt then you could let him kiss you a couple times to distract himself.
Shared kisses, lost in each other’s presence, too occupied to notice the multiple buzzing sounds from Jason’s phone.
——
Once the public release of the third and final interview was released to your company’s website, the usual flood of comments embraced the look at the two of you.
You lost yourself in the positive comments, ignoring the negative ones, but that was the price of social media. It was the evils of publicity.
You read comment after comment about the excitement to watch the fresh new season. Iconic racers coming back to their playing field, excited to reveal new car designs, getting the opportunity to collaborate with anyone and everyone.
As the time for Qualifying reached you, the temperature fully warmed and Jason wasn’t next to you to enjoy it.
He had conferences, practice drives, and flights to catch. Now that he was past elimination, it was time to test his fastest time.
It wasn’t even the peak of the season, but you were missing him.
You sighed into your phone, a small vibration felt in your palm. A message from Jason appeared.
It was a photo of his Lightning McQueen crocs on the plane. A big contrast to the fancy carpeting, expensive seats, and an up-to-date screen playing the children’s movie.
You smiled to yourself in your desk chair, but a small prick to your heart struck you.
The difference in your lifestyles hitting you. He was a rich racer, traveling the world in one of the most expensive suits in modern racing.
You felt…small.
The two of you hadn’t talked about what would happen once he started racing full-time again.
How far was this relationship going?
Would you follow him to his races around the world? Should you follow him?
Would you officially announce anything?
Was this an off-season romance? Only an off-season romance?
What about your job?
“Hey, we need to be there by one. Should we grab a quick lunch?” Your coworker called out to you, interrupting your pessimistic thoughts to yourself.
“Yeah, I’ll be right there. Meet you in the lobby?” You locked your computer, grabbing your key badge, ready to go out of the office.
You quickly typed out a message, taking advantage of Jason still on his phone.
You: Hey slow down try to give the other guys a chance
(Handsome) Mr. Todd: fast is the only way I go. you, especially, should know that ;)
You blushed, quickly putting away your phone to catch up with your team.
——
Jason’s performance during qualifying went as expected. He performed in P1, claiming and boasting as he usually did. His time seemed to be getting faster, raising the competition standards for everyone.
You only shook your head as you looked at the results on your phone, a small smile on your face.
Jason was busy going to opening days, press conferences, driving on the racetrack. His replies were becoming sparse.
You: I knew those crocs were good luck charms
No read receipt. No reply.
You kept yourself busy at work. Falling into a routine.
You checked your phone again during lunch. No messages.
Your apartment felt empty when you came home, no lovable man standing in the kitchen.
Still no reply from Jason. It would’ve made you sad if you weren’t so tired.
Your phone rang as you got ready for bed. Letting your head hit the pillow as you heard Jason’s voice in your ear.
“I just saw— paper frogs that—vendor—the street and—grab some.” Jason’s voice went in and out of your mind, fighting the urge to sleep.
His voice was too soothing.
“That’s nice, Jay.” You slurred.
“Sweetheart? Are you awake—“ His voice started to get farther and farther.
You couldn’t keep your eyes open and your dreams filled with you sitting in the stands, watching Jason race.
Wind hitting your skin, watching the flags fly in the air, engines roaring past you.
He was so far away and kept driving further away from you.
You jerked awake. Looking for your phone in the blankets.
You had fallen asleep while on your first phone call with Jason since he left.
“Shit, I wanted to hear his voice.” You shook the blanket in the air until your phone fell from it.
You looked at your call history. Apparently, it had been a video call, but you hadn’t realized after you woke up this morning.
Jason not only heard you embarrass yourself, but he saw it too. You quickly opened your messaging conversation.
You (Yesterday): I knew those crocs were good luck charms
You (Today): i’m sorry I didn’t know it was a video call
(Handsome) Mr. Todd: don’t worry about it, I got to see u when your phone fell off your face
“Nooo!” You screamed to yourself.
Your face fell in your hands as you read the messages coming in.
(Handsome) Mr. Todd: I got something out of it HAHAHA
(Handsome) Mr. Todd: let’s talk next time
(Handsome) Mr. Todd: I wanna hear your voice
You sighed.
Getting up to start your weekend, putting Jason’s live race on the TV screen.
Putting on the shirt that smelled like Jason.
Tag List: @jaybirdstreet @gallusstuff @meowkn @velvetberries @i0lovepink00 @rayaskoalaland @spidernuggets @janybabyy @deimks @yasmin-oviedo @bigraga-sk @indulgentdaydream @uhhellnogetoffpleasenowty @idontknowanythingsblog @xakilicious @livvyliv15
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Yandere Fe/male bully headcanons:
TW: Mention of torture, stalking, physical abuse, psychological abuse, abuse of power and negligence of authorities, sadistic and yandere behaviors, kidnapping & harassment.
Bullies can come from different family backgrounds: Some live under domestic violence; others have absent parents; some have serious traumas that they take out on their victims; or they simply want to demonstrate the power and influence that they and their families have.
It doesn't matter if the bully is male or female, as both are equally dangerous.
A yandere bully would be quite jealous of his target.
I've seen that bullies rarely walk around alone, having at least two or three henchmen or lackeys with them. A yandere bully would be no exception.
You were a love interest who rejected him/her, and now she's/he's out to stalk you and make your school life a living hell.
A yandere bully would HATE to see you being happy with anyone but them.
A yandere bully would follow you everywhere, basically stalking you even possibly in the school/university bathrooms.
A yandere bully will follow you even to your house. First alone, and then with his lackeys.
A yandere bully will not tolerate you having friends, so he will do EVERYTHING to break your friendships.
For example: Making up gossip about you to manipulate your friends or classmates and turn them against you, so that you only focus your attention on your yandere bully.
Yes, a yandere bully will isolate you from the rest.
A yandere bully will love to harass you, because he would be a "sadistic and manipulative" yandere.
Your yandere bully would send his minions to spy on you.
Your yandere bully will publicly humiliate you when you are with friends because of his jealousy.
Your yandere bully would physically attack his love rivals, mostly out of jealousy.
A yandere bully will force you to watch while he physically tortures your friends or any other classmates who have spoken to you.
I think a yandere bully could also have narcissistic, psychopathic tendencies or something similar.
He likes to make you suffer constantly, in order to always be on your mind.
The yandere bully will want to physically mark you and will use anything to do so, such as: knives and razors; weird corrosive liquids; cigarettes; his bare hands (to scratch, hit, choke, slap, and even pinch you); paint; food and drink; and even a hair curler (which was even depicted in "The Glory"). This is fucking terrifying for the victims, as it will cause lifelong trauma and a yandere bully would know this.
After the physical torture, your yandere bully will act as if nothing happened and kiss you (probably by force).
Your yandere bully will have his/her lackeys find a place where neither you nor he/she can be interrupted, or rather, where you have no chance to escape or ask for help.
Your yandere bully will steal things from you and keep them secretly in his house, such as drawings, pencils or pens, or some small object that is precious to you. Like the classic yandere, he/she would make an altar with them in your honor.
A yandere bully wouldn't let anyone else make you suffer at school, other than him/her. This includes his/her lackeys, who he/she would forbid from touching you or talking to you too much without his/her permission.
Did I mention that your yandere bully would punish you in front of the other students? This was as a warning not to approach you again.
A yandere bully KNOWS the harm he does to you or your friends but he doesn't regret it; on the contrary, he justifies his actions by saying that it's "because he loves you"
A yandere bully will never sincerely apologize for their actions, whether towards you or others. As I said before, the yandere bully will always justify themselves in their love for you.
Scream, curse, and fight back if you want. Your yandere bully will always follow you wherever you go.
Did you accept another girl's feelings? Your yandere bully will burn her the next day with the hot curling iron, just because your yandere bully felt jealous for you and anger for that other girl.
-"Did you see what happened today? That happened because you accepted that bitch and not me. You are mine and no one else's!"-.
Did a classmate lend you books? Your yandere bully will tear, wet or burn them in front of the owner of said books (unless they are provided by the school/university); or hit the owner of the books out of jealousy.
Or maybe he'll take it out on you.
Your yandere bully will make your friends leave you, one by one.
As strange as it may seem, a yandere bully will leave love letters in your backpack or desk (lovely according to their twisted way of seeing things); roses (I think it would be more common if the yandere bully is a man); small chocolates and other gifts; demonstrating their, very rare, good mood.
Your yandere bully will force you to accept them.
For this very reason, if you reject him/her, he/she may come into your house and break your things or seriously hurt your family, pets or roommates.
Yes, a yandere bully would harass you even in your home. You wouldn't even be safe in your home. He/she would steal personal items, savings or simply enter your home (only if he breaks the doors or windows, or if he has a copy of your keys).
Yes, he/she will go that far.
Your yandere bully would see you entering and leaving your house, bathing, getting dressed, cooking, eating, cleaning, etc;…and your yandere bully would wish to be there with you so he/she could be with you, kiss you, hug you, touch every corner of your skin and make you his/hers.
I think he/she would use his minions, money, power and influence to keep you somewhere. Not necessarily to torture you, but it could be to torture your partner, a family member or a friend in front of you; or to go on dates with you (more awkward dates than romantic ones).
If he has certain racy photos of you (due to how much he stalks and spies on you), the yandere bully will use them to blackmail you with: -"If you agree to be my boyfriend/girlfriend, I won't tell anyone about your photos."- which the yandere bully would strangely do, since he would have already achieved his goal.
If you tell a teacher or the authorities, the yandere bully will simply use his family's money and power to get away with it, with only a "stern" warning.
In fact, a yandere bully would use his power against the teachers and principal to have you under his mercy and close to him.
-End of part One.
I will continue tomorrow with the rest.
#yandere#yandere oc#cw yandere#yandere love#yandere x you#platonic yandere#yandere male#tw yandere#yandere x reader#male yandere#yandere tendencies#yandere x darling#yandere boyfriend#yanderecore#actual yandere#actually yandere#bpd yandere#irl yandere#male yandere x reader#obsessive yandere#stalker yandere#yandere aesthetic#yandere boy#yandere character#yandere community#yandere concept#yandere concepts#yandere coping#yandere core#yandere fanfiction
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calm after the storm
jaycetalis x reader
summary: the arcane horrors are enough to send a mortal man into the depths of depravity, jayce, having just ascaped the hexcore know this a little too well. he knows there is only one thing that may keep his sanity from snapping: the girl he knows is waiting for him back home.
a/n: this is not cannon compliant, imagine mel is a lesbian in this universe, i just finished this at 1.30 am i have 8 am classes tomorrow but i cant break a promise, enjoy !!!
+
the vast emptiness of light wad oddly a welcome sight. white with specles of pastel color stretched toward all four directions further than his tired eyes could see.
jace took a moment of reprieve, setting his hammer down but not letting go of the handle, far too scared, far too aware of the horrors that could be awaiting him the next second.
he had no trust in the calm but he accepted it anyway, he had no choise but, if he stayed on his feet another second he may collapse, and janna knows what would aait him in his unconscious state...
one by one, cautiously, tentattively, his feet fell to the ground, of the ceiling, or... he could hardly tell. in any case, the weariness became a little easier to bear with his body sitting.
jayce took a deep breath. the sound reverbrated through the abyss of the arcane, travelling, mixing with its surroundings untill it ceased to exist, only to be followed by another deep breath and the course continued this queer melody, monotone, a strange calm.
jayce had been trapped in the hexcore... he knew not how long. the only thing he knew was the strain in his muscles, the ache in his bones, the bags under his eyes from lack of sleep and the pain in bones from the hits he took.
through this odyssey of violence and strangeness, his sole anchor was his hammer. symbol of his family and a familiar tool, one that had accompanied him since first he could walk. though that too had been corrupted, its form changed, resembling somewhat the vastness surounding him.
but that was not entirely true... he had one more weapon in his arsenal, ensuring he does not lose himself in the horrors, one entirely uncorrupted, one nothing could take away from him: her.
his biggest treasure, his shinning light, his beacon of hope, his prayar when times get hard.
he sat and pondered, that is all he did when he was alone, replaying the memories again and again, afraid the darkness may erase them from his mind.
they had met years ago, in the academy. she had been hired to fill the void left by victor as professor heimerdingers assistand. he will never forget the first time he locked eyes with her.
the professor had made no attempt to formally introduce them, too preocupied with whatever else in his mind. therefore, when he walked into his lab one morning, only to be met with her back snooping around and taking notes, he was surprised to say the least. at first his instinct was to yell at her but once she turned around to look at him all anger dissipated from his body.
her eyes seemed like stars twinkling in the morning light as they looked at him, her features painting a perfect picture, face surprised ever so slightly. she explained herself but even after she did he remained dumbfounded, stumbling over his words, bringing a smile to her face, and a small chuckle escaping her lips. she took a step forward, leaning into him when she said the words etched into his heart. "i will be seeing you soon, mr progress" and with that she left, leaving him frozen on the spot to be found by viktor.
her words were true. since them they saw more and more of eachother, at first in the lab, then in the lad and after, untill eventually they were essentially inseperable. as his carrer proceeded and he fell deeper and deeper into the intricacies, the guile and the treachery of politics, she was always there, waiting for him in his house, in his lab, backstage from his stage to remind him of his goal, of his self. his pillar his beacon, his hope.
now she was... gone. or rather he was gone, ripped away from her arms and thrust into this labirinth of magic and malice, not knowing when or if he would ever escape.
his mind was running back to that first meeting, a moment of peace at last, when again his surroundings changed.
jace shot up, assuming a battle stance he had become all too familiar with, ready to take on whatever the arcane threw at him, with the hope to return to her, when the landscape changed again, and again, as if glitching, once twice thrice untill he was thrust in the white void once again, only this time, he had company...
councilor salo, his former coleague, standing right in front of him. he thought it was magic playing tricks on him. the councilor was... changed. he was walking, despite the damage taken by jinxs boms and his face had weird marks, reminiscent of the hexcores essance, he was not there to bring good news. "salo ? what are you doing here, how are you walking ?"
salo replied, but his voice was changed aswell, warped unto something unhuman. salo relayed his message from victor, the entire conversation almost too surreal for him to comprehend but the things he had seen had turned hi sstomach into steel, and despite salos words he knew what he had to do...
the councilor or victor or whatever this thing wearing the facade of his former friend concluded its little speech, but jayce knew his destiny "i cant let you leave" spoke jayce.
with a smug but calm confidence, salo turned to leave "im sorry you feel that way" he said as he made his exit.
but jayce had a duty, a goal, a purpose, more importanly he had a promise had had to fulfill, one he was too blind to see before but all to aware of now, "im sorry too" and with a simple swing of his hammer, salo was gone.
jayces vision went hazy, all the exhaustion catching up to him, mixing with the weight of salos words, making his feel queezy, fell all the things he had not allowed himself to all this while.
he knew what he had to dy, call it duty or fate of want, he had to rid the world of the hexcore, using any means necessary.
the tragedy of salos death, rather his muder brought atleast one blessing, he was back at the hexgates. he dragged with the last remainants of strength left in his body his feet forward, his mind replaying all of the things he had seem, nightmares come to life, threatening to consume his mind, to drag him the their abyss now and forever, all the way through the exit, to the elevator to the outside of the hexgates they fought to erase his sanity, but as he stepped outside the gates, feeling the fresh air hit his face, fill his lungs and the morning light hitting his eyes, from the dephts of his soul a light occure: a vision of her, his saviour his saint, his guiding star.
he could see from up here the entire city and for a secont the romantic view, the vision of her, they softened his worries, cleared his head, and a new need emerged, the need to get to her, finally.
the night was young, sun still dousing the sky in twilight, few stars were visible from her window and below the upset city of piltover. tonight was a quiet night, military had pulled from the streets, atleast a little, and there were no conflicts at hand.
her window had a view of almost the whole city, something she used to find much pelasure in but now was indifferent to. the window might as well have been facing a brick wall. it was all irrelevant, the voilence, the conflict, the war... nothing mattered.
she sat on her bed and stared out the window with a lazy gaze. it was a wonder she even had sat up, usually only having enery to turn side to side.
weeks had passed since she had last seen jayce. they had been in this very room when he said "i need to head to the lab, i will propably be late but not too late, wait for me ?"
liar. fucking liar. "not too late" my ass. he was gone for weeks, disappeared off the face of the earth.
his absence had been felt by her immeietly. she had tried to saty up that fateful night, but sleep tugged on her eyelids thus she had gone to bed, excpecting to find him in her bed by the time she woke up. when morning came and he was not sharing her bed, she still did not worry. but morning was followed by noon was followed by night, and jayce had yet to come back to her.
since then, she had fully gone through the stages of grief. the first ?denial.
on the first night she had gone to his lab but jayce was nowhere to be found, she had then gone to his house only to be met with absence once again. she figured he was held up somewhere with work, so, she went to work a usual, taught her classes, returned home, made them both dinner, ironed the clothes he left behind and washed his pyjamas to wear when he came back. still, there was no knock on her door. no sight of jayce
anger. his multy day absence led her to a clear conslusion; he was cheating. she paced around her house, blasting loud music from her record player, cursing his very existance. she gathered his clothes, his clean clothes she had washed herself by hand, fully intending to burn them, but as she saw the pile infront of her, a painting of their life together, she could not bring herself to. besides, she knew her jace, he would never do such a thing, would never hurt her in such a way, which led her to the next stage:
bargaining. something bad had to happen to jayce to keep him away this long, he was obviously in danger and no one was doing anything about it. she attempted to speak with enforcers but they dismised her as if she were a child. she went to everyone she could think of for help, to no avail, everyone either had their own problems or simply did not take her seriously. the acolade of her desperation came when she knocked on the kirammans door, or at least attempled to. the noxian guard posted outside threw her out before she could even approach the door. did truly everyone so easily accept martial law and forget about one of their very own counsilors ?
finally, she reahced the final stage: depression. her jayce was gone, either from her life or from piltover but it mattered little. he was gone and the void he left behind in her heart was to never be filled again. she stopped going to work, not that she had much work, classes having almost completely ceased in the academy in sight of the conflicts, she stopped going out, stopped cleaning, she would have stopped cooking if it was not her sole source of sustinence. all she did was sit around the house, waiting or crying, listening to her vinyls and crying some more untill even that became too much and she was reduced to only her bed.
her friends had noticed, knocking on the door a few days ago. they noted her catatonic state but could do nothing to help her, only offering words of reassurance "you will get though this Y/N. you are strong with or without him, and you will get better".
their words were nice but to her, void. jace had been the axis around which her life rotated for 5 years now, he was her past present and future but now he was gone. ripped from her so violently and without explaination. was he dead ? had he been entangled in a fight which proved fatal ? or had he abandoned her ? the questions swirled her head constanly, creating a buzz, a fog, in her head as well as behind her eyes, rendering her hopeless.
she could not even pinpoint the exact time jayce had been gone, hours had melted into days had melted into weeks, into a jumbled mess as unclear in her head as her questions. it did not matter how long he was gone anyway, he had left her.
as she sat up in her bed, observing the window she cursed herself for having washed their sheets and jayces clothes, his scent she so loved and oh so longed for was erased, tabula raza. everything sucks. nothing is the way it was supposed to. nothing would ever be the way it was meant to again, not without her guiding star, she found his title as "man of tomorrow" quite apt, for she could thing of no tomorrow without him.
and as she sat there wallowing, surrounded by sadness and self loathing, the doorbell rang.
if it had been another time she would have jumped to open it, holding onto the hope,a small ember if it,that maybe it would be her jayce. now all of it had been snuffed out. jayce was never coming back. she took her time, only moving her head slightly, pondering the identity of the intruder. could it be the neighbours ? a student ? noxian soldiers ? she landed on it being her friends, with cleaning supplies propably, ready for round two of 'cheer up the professor".
the bell sounded again. anoying her friends were, but she blamed them not, their insistance was born of concern. thus, she took her feet of the bed, taking a second to find balance before she dragged herself to the door. the bell rang one final time before her hand reached the doorknob, leading her to grow slightly irritated, the little bit her depressed state allowed atleast.
so sure she was of the visitors identity, she did not look through the peephole, oppening the door immedietly to find...
jayce.
jayce, her jayce.
her jayce who had been missing for janna knows how long.
the professors jaw dropped, and she thought of rubbing her eyes to ensure it was not a cruel dream, but was given no chance, jayce stepping into her appartment and falling into her arms immedietly.
her mind could hardly comprehend what was going on, taking a second to react to his sudden affection, to his sudden presance. his familiar frame in her arms finally registered, leading her to instinctively react, placing her arms around him, holding him close, oh so close, sqeezing his frame, as if at any second he would be stolen away from her again.
they stood there, door ajar, frozen in time, holding eachother, not wanting to let go in fear of returning to the nightmare of their time apart. they stood embracing, drinking in eachothother, hearts beating in tandem, finally full now that they reunited. at peace, at last.
the fog of questions in her mind cleared out, they mattered no more, he was back, he came back to her, to hell with what he had been doing in the meantime.
jayce felt his exhaustion melt from his body, muscles relaxing finally. he moved his head to burry his nose in her hair, taking a deep breath, his lungs filling with her scent calming his nerves. the horrors of the arcane mattered little now. the trials he had passed, the tribulations he endured, the eldritch terrors he faced all with the image of her in his mind, with the memories he replayed in his head like film, holding close to his heart to get through that nightmare had paid off.
he would never be the same again, scarred far too deep, the rune etched in his wrist evidence of that but his love had not faltered a second, and he knew she would still love him no matter what.
they stood there awhile, untill it wasnt enough. she was the first to move, pulling her head from jayces chest to look up at him, to meet his eyes she so loved. when he returned her gaze, she noticed the change in thm; the bit of darkness, the lack of liveliness, but still they were uniquely jayce. it was as if two pieces of a puzzle came together, two parts of one whole, two parts that did not make sense on their own but together created a most beautifull image.
a thousand thoughts ran through her head, so many things she wanted to say, wanted to express, so many emotions that she did not know where to start. but from the way he looked at her, deep brown eyes filled to the brim with adoration, eyes that had seen her whole and loved her whole, she knew he understood, words were unecessary.
"you look like shit" she landed on finally, earning from him a chuckle. her words rang true, he did look like shit. looked as if he had been dragged through hell. his clothes were ripped and tattered, modified with makeshift armour in aome places, and the parts intact were either dripping with sweat or dirty with blood and dirt. his face, his beautifull face was in no better state, painted even darker than his usual tan complexion, beard rowdy and uncempt, hair outgrown, with dired blood and aweat covering majority of it. dirty, rugh and dark.
still, as she looked up at him he looked like an angel, her angel, finally in her arms again.
his deep rich chuckle reverbrated in his chest, sending a jolt of joy through her own body. his voice, more hoarse than usual but just as pleasant and masculine as she remembered spoke "you look prefect"
a pang of guilt rang through her chest, there he went and filled her ears with sweet words when she had just insulted him.
he looked down to her, eyes dark, yet filled with the relief only a man who had all he ever wanted could hold, for that is exactly what she is to him: his dream, his religion and key to his happiness.
his head craned down to kiss her, foot simultaniously moving to shut the door behind him. their lips meeting was like an explosion of a thousand suns. they always had been very good at making love, two halves who knew eachother better than themselves, lips now slotting together like puzzle pieces. the kiss was soft but not chaste, deep with the emotions pouring between them, an equilibrium of love and lust, lips moving against eachother seeking the salvation only the other could bring.
that first kiss was everything, when jayce pulled back finally, he took a deep breath, as if he had been derived of oxygen and her kiss was his release. his hands moved on her back, shifting from her waist to her head, the other moving up and down, pulling her closer, even moreso, tracing lines which sent waves of warmth all through her.
he put their lips together again, just as passionate as the first but now there was something new. need. pure untainted need. he needed her to breathe, needed her to exist and the kiss comunicated just that.
the hand on her head burried itself in her hair, pulling just slightly, not to hurt but to hold onto something, to make sure she would not escape. as if she ever would, this, him, was all she ever wanted, all she ever needed.
wirhout breaking away she oppened her mouth, his tongue immedietly intruding, deepening the kiss further.
jayce was hungry, starved.
his hand behind her back moved again, wishing to rid them of the barrier named clothes, bringing itself beneath her shirt. his palm was cold causing the professor to flinch ever so slightly. jayce was not detered, pulling, tugging her shirt up hurriedly. eventually they had to break the kiss, much to both their dismay. swiftly he pulled the fabric off of her, tossing it to the side to land on the other piles of dirty clothes around the house.
he took a moment to admire her. she was as perfect as he remembered, soft and sweet. she waited patiently for him to finish drinking her in, chest rising up and down with deep anticipating breaths, the move causing him to grow even more infatuated.
he moved again to close the distance between them, rougher this time, so quick she had not the time to process, aware of his move only by the renewed presance of his lips on hers. jayces need had transfered onto her, feeling the heat in every inch of her body, stomach flipping in excitement. her hands flew to his chest, beggining to undo his vest but his armour got in the way.
her hands struggled to undo the clasps of it, soon growing frushtrated the longer she fiddled with the clasp to no avail. jayces hands moved slowly, tracing lines from shoulders to forearms to wrists, leaving goosebups in their wake. his hands cupped hers, rough and caloused, taking them fully in their grasp, begining to assist her in undoing the damned clasp.
one by one pieces dropped with thuds to the floor acompaniyng the sounds of their kissing in the otherwise silent appartment. once the last piece was off, her hands sprung once again to action, undoing his vest and shedding it from his shoulders.
her hands began to then roam his chest. she noted new scars had formed, rough under the pads of her fingers, foreign, maiming the man she had up to now known every trace of. the scars were not the only change though. his body had gotten more defined, muscles more pronounced. a welcome change, one which sent a storm of inapproptiate thoughts to her mind. having explored his body to satisfaction the professors hands moved again, lower and lower, slowly, teasingly, threatening to undo his belt but never daring get too close to doing so.
jayce was not having it. he needed her now, her teasing would not be tolerated. to accelerate the process of undressing his hands moved, loosening his belt and lowering his breeches with much haste, discarding them in the same unceremonious fashion he had her shirt.
he began to move forward with quick decisive steps still cautious not to ever break their kiss, tracing a path to her couch. she followed his lead with much reverance, utill she felt the couch behind her knees. jayce did not allow her to fall back just yet. his hands moved to remove her shorts, one movement bearing her of both pants and undergarments.
only then did her allow her to fall back, giving her a shove, harsher than intended, her smaller body landing on the pillows with a thud and a high-pitched yelp from her mouth, earning from him another chuckle.
he did not wait for her to accustom to the new position, moving immedietly to kiss her again, placing his knee between her legs, upper body caging her in, trapping her like a predator corners pray.
their kisses had grown hungry, need growing into an uncontrollable beast, morphing into desperation. jayce kissed her with an open mouth, all teeth and tongue, but it was welcomed, everything by him was welcomed, time appart had made her a husk of herself. now with jayce in her arms again her life was back in orbit and she wanted him in any way he would have her.
his hands moved, beggining from shoulders and lowering; caressing, toutching or groping whatever flesh he could find, promising to leave a few bruises here and there.
jayce had always been a strong man, something he was very aware of and made even moreso whenever they had sex. he was a strong guy and he knew it, leading him to be extra cautious with her, treating his girl like porcelain, like a doll to be revered and taken care of.
none of that was happening today.
whatever jayce had been through mustve shook him to his core. when he toutched her before it was with the reverance of a priest readiyng his altar, now his hands comunicated the hunger of a ravenous animal.
he needed to feel her close, needed to know she was with him. the arcane had put him through horrors beyond the mortal imaginations, forever in his lips her name, one ray of light in the endless abyss of his torture. he may very well have gone insane if it werent for her. even now, the images of all he had witnessed played in his mind, in some dark corner, threatening to take over and drag him in their madness. their attempt only made his need stronger, his hands rougher, his body more desperate, holding onto his light, pouring out onto her all the frustration, the fear and anger onto her skin. and she took it. she took all he would give, as he knew she would.
his hands had lowered to her hips, only to find them moving, ever so slightly, grinding on his knee in a desperate plea for friction, for something to aleviate the burning in her loins. his hands gripped them, halting all movement, causing her to whine in his mouth. "i know darling, i know" he said.
with hands on her hips were holding on for dear life, surely to leave large bruises come morning, jayces desperation reached its tipping point, unable to hold back anymore cock hard and dripping, begging for release.
any other day he would put himself aside to focus on her fully and only allow his own pleasure after she had had her fill. but now, whith his limbs burning in anticipation, he had not that option.
with a swift movement her flipped her around, manhandling his girl to bend over the couch. he placed the palm of one hand on her back, pressing her torso into the pillows, the other under her thighs keeping them in place, both creating a low arch in her back.
she had been his prayar when times got rough, her kiss his salvation and now her body his reward, his sin. oh and how sinfull she was indeed.
he could see through the dim light her cunt glistening in anticipation. his thumb moved, tracing a line betweed her folds, dragging down onto her clit and taking pause, pressing on her button. the caress, as slight as it was, sent a jolt of pleasure through her body, releasing in a moan, muffled somewhat by the couch. "jayce... please..." she said, tone a step before a whimper.
in response, jayce pulled his thumb from her folds, in favour of taking his cock in his palm. he lined himself with her entrance, and began to slowly enter her folds. he had only just entered his tip yet the professor already could feel her head fogging up in a lustfull haze, unable now to control the sounds escaping her mouth.
when he was about halfway in, anticipation took control, bottoming put in one quick thrust, his thighs hitting hers with force. the movement caused him to release a groan, low and masculine, synchronised with his girls own moan, a melody of pleasure filling the appartment that had for so long been empty of love.
and that first thrust proved the key that unlocked pandoras box for jayce did not waste any time, setting immedietly a brutal pace.
he was drunk on her, an addict that had been derived of his vice too long, only to now indulge again. the appartment filled with sounds of their coupling, lewd and crude but musical in their own way. her slight uncontrolled moans in direct contrast to his low groans, playing to the tempo of jayces pace.
his hipps slapped harshly against hers but his rough hands kept her somewhat grounded and in place. soon she felt his chest press against her back. skin hot and muscles firm, hard and controlling on her back, forcing her deeper into the couch. she could feel the rumble of his moans through his chest, another sense to add to the cocktail of sensations. she thought jayce could not possibly get more intoxicating when his head landed right next to her ear.
sharp contrast to the movement of his hips, jayces lips were soft, plastering kisses all over the side of her face. moving on toward her neck, nape and shoulderblades. each individual press of his lips a decleration of adoration, somewhat an apology for the rough way he was punding her into the pillows.
in this worship of her body, he found a particularly sweet spot, betwix neck and shoulder, one he knew from years of experience drove his girl crazy and began to roughly suck on the skin. the moan released from her throat was damn near pornographic, making heat rise to her cheeks in embarasment, burrying her head into the couch.
jayce made a cooing sound, mocking, he was fucking mocking her. jayce was causing her delirioum, thrusting into her with unparalleled frevor, lips working her neck like a violin, and now he mocked her for being affected by it.
he craned his head to place again his mouth on her ear. such a smug fuck he was today, but the moan he accidentally released with a hot breath matched her own in hue and desperation "i love you so, so much. i cannot bear to be away from you again, i hardly bore it this time. darling you have no idea what i have been through... but i would do it all over again, just to make it back to you, even if only to place one last kiss upon your brow."
jayces honeyed words sent tears into the professors eyes. hurriedly she twisted her head, lips desperately seeking his, needing to show him what he ment to her, for words would surely fail her at this time.
their lips met in a soft kiss, chaste, innocent, loving. oh so loving. and when they had savoured the moment to satisfacrion, jayce pulled back again. his back left hers, the loss of heat leaving her suseptible to the cold bite of the night air. already she could feel that tightness in her stomach, the sensory overload melting all thoughts away, leaving only pleasure and jayce.
his thrusts got rougher, something she had thought to be impossible. she could feel the tightness in her stomach building up from the movement of his hips, pairing with the swell of her heart from his words. her hands moved from her sides to her back, begging for him to hold onto her, jayce did not give in to his lights request, taking both her wrists in one palm and placing them firmly on her back. she whined loudly hoping it may sway his mind, but he was not so easily deterred, not today atleast.
his other palm grabbed again her hip, starved as he was, brutally pushing his way inside her. the professors entire body rutted, the front of her hips slamming against the couch- yet another bruise she would have to account for in the morning- her ass and back of her hips slammed on by jace, the entire movement an exchange of forcefullness, leaving her in the middle delirious from pleasure. the pressure in her stomach that had built up so long now was nearing an edge, nearing the orgasm she had so long been anticipating.
jayce threw his head back an array of groans and moans he could not hold back escaping his lips, he was close, so close. he kept his eyes away from her form for he knew one glance down at the soft body of the woman he so loved would shoot him straight across the edge.
he wanted to hold back, oh how he wished to, but the depravation had depleted his endurance somewhat, and with the knoledge just a day ago thought the day where he could have her in his arms again would never come, rendered him unable. "darling im...ugh, im close" he said inbetween moans. "i know, please jayce..." she replied in that sweet angelic voice of hers.
with one final thrust he bottomed out inside her, sealing as well her own release, both finnishing with final moans of pleasure.
everything was hazy, her mind swirling with pleasure, the sensations on her body leaving behind a soreness that would only get worse, and in her eyes with unshed tears she could not make out couch from wall. the places jayce had grabbed with particular frevor and her hips where the couch had slammed were more than sore, they hurt, but it was a pain she was glad to caary and one she would choose a thousand times over that of the heartache she had endured these past few weeks.
she felt jayce move behind her but was too tapped out to realise his exact movements, untill she felt hands wrapp around her body, lifting her up off of the couch and repositioning her to sit across the couch. a
jayce positioned himself to the other end of her head, taking in his lap her legs, regret no doubt sinking in as he began to lightly massage them. they both took a moment to breathe, surrounded by comfortable silence.
the professor took liberty of breaking the silence once again "that was the best sex weve ever had"
jayce laughed, no more shy chuchled, he laughed with his whole chest, and for a moment the carefree man she had come to love before the anomaly of the past few weeks returned, if even for a moment. he craned his head to look at her, a sweet sappy smile playing at his scared lips but in his eyes was something else, something she recognised as the brewing of an apology. the air settled in a more serious tone.
"im sorry for-" "its ok, jayce. i know." she replied, not allowing him to relay the little speech he had prepared for it was uneeeded. whatever had kept him away so long was clearly nothing pleasureable, if her trust in him was not enough his appearance proved it.
she had snuffed out the apology but jayce had a lot of things on his chest, clearly. he lowered his head into her lap, hands holding onto her waist for dear life but with clear caustion and tenderness as he began to speak "you do not know the half of it my love. i-... i was with professor heimerdinger and this kid ekko, they had a hextech related problem, they came to me. we went to the gates together to investigate, but the hexcore.... i may never be able to relay onto you the things that happened, the things i saw."
"i understand... i would never force you to do anything you do not wish to jayce" she replied as she began to lazily play with his hair. 'there is still a lot to be done, a lot i have to do. i may need to... i may need to leave again"
those words sent a pang to her chest, hand halting their movements. jayce noticed, taking her palm in his own and lazily playing with the professors fingers, a small comfort. "but i promise, i will be back, i will always come back here, i told you snd i will tell you a thousand times more. do you trust me ?"
he looked up to her as he said those last words, eyes begging for something he knew to be too much. he was asking for her to put her heart entirely in his hands, with close to no guarantee of ever getting it back. but as his brown eyes looked at her, so changed and yet the same, she knew he already had her everything, she would trust him always. "of course i do, i always will" she said.
to love is to trust, to love is to wait, to love is to fight, to love is to traverse the worst horrors of the world only with the prayar of your lovers name on your lips. and they loved eachother more than anything.
as if on que he placed a kiss into her palm, with the worries that plagued him so now lifted from his chest he felt a bit lighter, rising from her lap to stand. "but before anything, i need to bathe"
she laughed, the sound foreign even to her ears, "well i have clean clothes for you, and shampoo"
jayce looked around a bit, gathering his clothes -to throw away- making no comment on the horrid state of the appartment much to her relief, "do you have a razor too ?"
she thought for a moment "maybe keep the beard"
#jayce arcane#jayce talis#jayce x reader#jayce lol#arcane#arcane season 2#vi arcane#mel arcane#viktor arcane
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goodnight n go ❄️
a/n- finally finished this draft from 11 months ago. (yeah I suck ik) but then I didn't really finish it bc the ending is a tad abrupt. but that's just kinda how I am. this is a cute lil angst/comfort fic featuring felix (my beloved) very sfw and gn reader. enjoy and feel free to stop by my inbox with requests!! happy reading beloveds <3
Long distance was never easy. You both knew this when you started dating. But Felix was convinced you could make it work.
You met him accidentally. Spending a semester in Korea was turning out to be a more lonely experience than you ever could’ve imagined. You often found yourself counting down the days until you could leave. But then you met Felix, and all of a sudden, you wanted to stop the clock.
But unfortunately, freezing time wasn’t a skill you possessed. So as you packed your final items in your bag you thought about the first time you met him.
It was a warm day. Sun was shining occasionally through the clouds as you leaned your head against the cafe window. Today was going terribly. You were late to your classes because you overslept and then your professor was kind enough to let you know that you were one bad grade away from falling the semester. Not even your favorite green tea latte could brighten your day. Until he asked to sit with you. And all of a sudden you didn’t need the sun . he shined brighter than it ever could. Smile sparkling in the light of the cafe. He was gorgeous, so of course you said yes.
Laptop open you tried to concentrate on your lecture notes but the way he smelt was distracting. Consuming your inner monologue, oranges, and vanilla swirl together in a strikingly pleasant way.
His fingers waved in front of your face snatching your attention. Apparently, he had been talking to you for the past five minutes while you were absorbed in your thoughts about him. Laughing when you gave him a confused look. You had no idea what he had just said. It didn't seem to bother him too much. Restating himself with a smile on his face. His teeth were perfectly white and straight. Did he not own a single flaw?
But that was five months ago. In those months you fell in love with everything that was Lee Felix. You had never known a love so warm and positive. With his help you fixed your grades, even making the dean's list. He took you around Seoul showing you sites you never would've visited on your own. Meeting his friends who welcomed you with open arms. You felt so accepted. You weren't alone anymore.
Zipping up your last suitcase you had five minutes to say goodbye to your apartment that held so many memories for you. The kitchen where you shred your first kiss. That same day you burnt a batch of cookies together. More your fault than anything, but Felix didn't make you feel bad for it. Even taking a bite out of one to make the smile return to your face. The door you crossed so many times with him in tow. Body on body as you fumbled your way to the couch. Laughing when he tripped on the rug.
It was all over, for the foreseeable future at least. Your visa expiring forced you to leave behind the only love you've ever known. Felix wasn't even able to see you off at the airport. He had a strict schedule he couldn't stray from, not that you would let him. He had already done so much for you. You wouldn't risk his job just so you could have a few more moments of comfort. You weren't that selfish.
Stepping on the plane and finding your seat you wondered what would happen if you had never met. Would you be spared from the pain squeezing your heart with every breath? No. You don't regret him. You couldn't, not after all the kindness he showed you. Not after all the love
Closing your eyes, you lay your head back on the seat. The window blinds were closed so the sunlight wouldn't touch you. It reminded you too much of your own sun. Seats all around you filled up, but the two next to you remained empty, just reminding you of how lonely you were becoming again.
Suddenly you felt a dip in the seat beside you. Causing you to jolt up, ready to make room for the newcomer. When you looked you saw the familiar blonde that warmed your days.
"is that seat taken?" Felix asked with the biggest grin on his face. You quickly pulled him down into the seat and hugged him as tight as you could. Not believing it was really him. gently wiping tears from your cheek you didn't even realize were falling. He hushed your cries as he pulled you close.
"I convinced the company to let me work from home. So I can follow you anywhere. You didn't think I was seriously going to let you leave without me were you?"
#stray kids fluff#stray kids smut#stray kids x reader#stray kids fanfic#stray kids imagines#stray kids reactions#stray kids scenarios#stray kids headcanons#yeahspider#lee felix imagines#lee felix x reader#lee felix smut#lee felix fluff#lee felix x you
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@itsastridsart I'm so so so sorry this took so long to write and yet it's still going to be split into parts, but I've got a plot for this story!
Featuring: Passive/Nightmare sans x reader
Masterlist
Once in a Nightmare.
|First Chapter|Next Chapter|
You met Nightmare before everything. When he was still the pure soul of the past. Your AU had been destroyed by it's own creator, as they thought it was "too cringe", you didn't know how you managed to escape, but your wings came in handy, being an angel-demon hybrid has it's vantages.
Having nothing else to do, you decided to travel through the multiverse, passing from universe to universe without really caring about the people there, it's not like they could replace the missing feeling of your dimension.
And then you discovered dreamtale.
There was something off with it, you felt it the first time you visited. And the second. And the third. That skeleton that was always next to that tree.. he looked so.. familiar.. as if you had known him before..
You just snug it off and appeared right next to him, ready to start a talk and never return!
But your grin faded away when you saw his beat up, having injuries all over his bones and skull, his face facing you in terror as you touched his cheek.
"What... Happened to you..?"
Silence.
"...I can't leave you like this."
You came prepared for situations like this, for fell universes people, for yourself, it didn't matter for who it was. What mattered was that you were already wrapping his injuries up, disinfecting and cleaning them.
It didn't take much time for him to warm up to you, the only person who didn't have a burning hate for him, and it didn't take long for him to gain feelings.
.
He adored you, everything, the way you treated him, your sweet and caring touch as you treated his injuries, it hurt so bad, but he loved the way you'd be with him, making sure he's okay...
And when you accepted his feelings after he confessed? Oh dear he was head over heels, he was almost crying of happiness.
"..(_____)?"
"Yes?"
"Can you... Promise me something..?"
"Of course Nightmare!"
"Please.. never ever leave me alone.. please promise me we'll be together.. forever.."
"I promise Nightmare, I promise."
He held your hand, a ring on his finger and a ring in yours, you both are going to be married soon...
He made you promise. Promise never to leave him.
Until the accident happened.
One day you came back and everything was... Destroyed. Dream was stone, everyone was dead. And the worse, a gloomy skeleton standing in the middle, sitting at the now cut tree. You recognized him. The moon ring on his finger gave it all away. It was Nightmare. The man who you once loved, even with a different visual, you knew who he was. You didn't think twice and fled, you couldn't just believe it... This was just a bad dream... Right?
You kept the ring on your finger, it was the only memory that remained of him.. even after decades, centuries, you refused any man's advance, like you were waiting for a certain someone..
Rumours spread around the multiverse, and quickly found a skeleton's attention..
.
"Let me go!"
You screamed as your body was carried by three skeletons who had just broken into your house and kidnapped you, restraining your movements with ropes tied around your wrists, wings and legs.
"Heh, afraid we can't do that, boss told us to bring ya to him"
"Who?"
No response.
The skeleton with black eyes only chuckled and continued walking, you saw a gloomy gigantic castle in the distance.. you feel like the energy of this place is familiar..
It didn't take long for you to be inside, fancy cyan decor filled the halls, the skeleton, whose name you learned to be Killer in the way here, led you to a dinning room and sat you on one of the chairs, telling you to wait for his "boss".
Some paintings of someone who looked oddly similar to you with a black skeleton decorated the walls as a cyan-purplish light coming from a gold chandelier illuminated the room, you looked at the elongated dark wood table that had an irregular oval pattern in front of you and then at the dark cyan chairs with small golden details surrounding it.
You suddenly felt a tentacle wrap around your eye line, you tried to get it off, yet the ropes tied around your body didn't help. But as soon as it came it left, facing you with a plate of food placed on the table and the same skeleton of the paintings sited right in the chair in front of you.
"My my, look what we have here.."
The sound of his rough and deep voice filled your ears, his eye looking into the depths of your soul as a smirk formed in his face.
"Missed me, (_____)?"
".. W-who on earth are you.."
His expression shifted to an offended one, one of his hands touching his chest.
"Don't even remember your own fiance my dear?"
He exaggerated, showing the moon ring in his bony finger making you freeze for a second.
"I don't know where you found that ring, by my fiance is long dead."
"Oh no no no darling, is it too difficult for you to understand?" He pauses. "I'm your fiance, my dear."
He laughs as a tentacle untied the rope of your wrists and grabs your hand, showing you the sun ring on your own finger.
"My sunshine... I know you remember the promise you made. And I know you still love who I was... So.. why not love the new me huh?"
#undertale#undertale au#sans au#sans undertale#sans x reader#sans#dreamtale nightmare#nightmare sans x reader#nightmare sans#x reader
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Maura doesn't like sleeping next to anybody.
She was raised alone. The nurses never held her when she woke at night, and Constance was rarely home. Even if she had been, she was hardly the comforting sort. Stiff upper lip and all that. Maura learned to soothe herself, to read until the nightmares faded. Always scared and not sure why until she got older and realised her parents hadn't really wanted her; her in particular. Any child would have done. They'd just needed an heir to inherit.
It doesn't hurt the way it should; Maura has insulated herself against social harm. She slides inside her own mind and ignores outer stimuli. She doesn't make friends, because she never feels like she has anything to offer them.
She does sleep with men; it's quick and easy. Sometimes it's almost affectionate. But she doesn't stay. She slips out in the night to return to her own bed, disturbed by the heavy breathing and restless body next to hers. She doesn't get attached. She rarely goes back for seconds, unless they're exceptionally good at what they do to her. She's a poor little orphan with nothing to offer except her vast fortune, intelligence and smoking hot body.
Oh, she knows she's hot. It's part of why she's so reticient. People used to try to befriend her for her money or to use her in other ways.
Maura has enough self-respect not to let herself be used.
When Jane asks to stay, Maura doesn't hesitate.
They're tentative friends by now; Jane will bring a hot coffee down to the morgue with her if they've swung by a coffee shop on their way back to the precinct. She offers what meagre foodstocks she keeps in her desk; tuna and ramen, for the shelf-life. She's held an umbrella over Maura's head while she crouched over a victim. She's gruff and grumpy, but she's never disingenuous. Not with Maura. Maura knows Jane has other places to go; she has people in her life. She has strong family bonds, at least. She doesn't think Jane has friends either; not since Hoyt. No one ever really knows what to say after something like that happens to you. But Jane has a mother and father. Maura has met them both; they come in to scold her and bring her food when she works overnight. She has two brothers. Maura's met one and he's lovely but Jane is a finished product and he's awkward. Maura used to like awkward because she was awkward too. Jane is awkward in her own way.
She turns to Maura, probably because she doesn't think anyone will think to look for her there. Maura agrees readily. She bought this house and it echoes with loneliness. Jane's casual cheer could lighten it up.
And it does. Even though Jane is being taunted by a serial killer, she jokes and looks relaxed. It isn't until Bass knocks something that she springs upright, pulled taut by fear.
Maura reaches for her and Jane accepts Maura's fingers on her bare skin, lets Maura lower her back to the bed. Jane had joked about sleepovers and tits and best friends and Maura's never had any of those - well, she has tits. They're spectacular, so she's told. But now she's curious about Jane's, wondering why she suggested they get topless together.
Jane doesn't settle easily. She fidgets and talks late into the night. She falls asleep mid-sentence, still fighting it.
Maura watches her. She looks suprisingly sweet and vulnerable as she sleeps, and Maura is proud that Jane wanted Maura to protect and guard her. Her hand is still on Jane's arm, and when she tries to remove it so she can sleep in her own bed, Jane rolls over and traps Maura's arm beneath her, settling with her breath brushing Maura's hair and ear. She moves again, sliding herself onto Maura, so their bodies are aligned.
Maura moves her arm so it rests on Jane's back and she feels Jane relax and nuzzle closer into her. She hears Jane's contended sigh.
Maura doesn't like sleeping next to anyone. But with Jane nestled against her, she can't quite remember why.
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NEVER MEANT TO BE
contents ★ pro hero!katsuki x gn!reader, heavy angst, lovers to exes, hurt no comfort, slight swearing, 1k+ wc. requested for my milestone event.
event m.list ★ mha m.list
it was another cold winter day. the weather was as cold as ever and the sky was gray and gloomy, exactly how it was like that day. you sat there pointlessly staring at the window in a lifeless gaze as your mind replayed flashbacks to the day when everything ended with katsuki, and the sound of your yelling still vividly rang in your ears as if it had just happened.
it was a cold winter day when you had another argument with katsuki. you were aware of his hot temper and notorious attitude caused by his anger issues and his difficult job as a pro hero all along, so that wasn’t news to you. but because things used to be perfect at the beginning of your relationship, you thought that it wouldn’t really be a problem. since you accepted katsuki the way he was, you thought you could handle it.
except that as time passed by and things progressed, the cracks in the relationship began to show. and his anger issues worsened more and more. until it had reached a point where he would constantly yell at you over the smallest things, and you were just fed up. you couldn’t take it anymore.
“katsuki… i can’t take it anymore, i’m done.” you blurted out. shocking not only your boyfriend, but yourself as well. you never thought a day would come when you would utter such words to katsuki, he was the one man whom you loved more than anyone else in the world, you were supposed to spend the rest of your life with him by your side.
or so you thought.
you didn’t even realize that you had been trying to convince yourself that everything was fine and nothing was wrong for the longest time when in fact, things between you and him were completely far from being fine.
meanwhile, it was just then when katsuki realized that he had messed up big time. he was just then aware of the pressure and stress he had put you through until you couldn’t endure it anymore. he didn’t even remember when was the last time he didn’t have to yell.
that moment was an eye opener for the two of you to come to the conclusion that it was too late to go back to the way you once were, and that it was probably the end.
silence loomed over the shared bedroom, turning it from the most comfortable and safest place you once thought you could ever be in to an unfamiliar, scary place you wanted to run away from. but you were anxiously fidgeting with your fingers and your feet were glued to the floor, as if there was something weighing you down. making you unable to move.
your eyes were fixated on your feet, not daring to look up. although you did wonder what expression was on katsuki’s face back then.
after what seemed like years of awkward silence, katsuki finally spoke up.
“i put ya through so fucking much, didn’t i?” surprisingly, his voice was calm and soft spoken. it was said in the same voice that you had missed so much.
“look, i’m really sorry. i’ve been nothing but shitty to you this whole time we have been together, and you deserve someone better, so i’m lettin’ ya go.” you felt a twinge in your heart, as if you were being stabbed by a sharp knife.
your heart throbbed painfully, you weren’t ready to hear what he had just said. you didn’t want him to let you go, you wanted to hear him say that he’d stay and try his best with you to make it work out.
“we were never meant to be together.” you finally looked up, eyes wide open as they met his red ones for the first time in a while.
had you and katsuki really never been a good match and you had been blind to it all along?
it just hit you that your once perfect world had crashed intensely, breaking into pieces.
everything really was over. and it happened in the worst way you could ever imagine.
you didn’t even know what to say back to all that. as if words completely flew away from your head. you just found yourself running towards katsuki, body acting on its own as you wrapped your arms around him so tightly and began sobbing uncontrollably. the tears that welled in your eyes for long began to overflow and fall down your red cheeks, finally letting go of the anguish that was paining you.
you felt his strong arms holding you back, pulling you close to him and feeling you against his body one last time.
after some time you two broke away, eyes staring as you engraved each other’s faces in your heads. he cupped your cheeks in his calloused hands and the two of you shared your final kiss, your first and final goodbye. it tasted so bitter and so salty due to your tears, you hated it but you didn’t want it to end. because after that you would no longer feel those lips against yours.
but unfortunately, it had to come to an end.
nothing else was said after that, katsuki just packed his bags and moved out. the sight of his back facing you back then had been living in your memory to this day. despite that happening two years ago.
and for these past two years you hadn’t seen katsuki once, not even in your dreams. the only times you'd see him were when he was on tv having his heroic actions celebrated. he started off as a stranger to you who became your first ever love only to go back to being a stranger you knew nothing about.
you had hated winters. not only because you weren't a big fan of cold weather and gray, cloudy skies, but also because they always reminded you of your first love who ended up making you go through your first breakup and your biggest heartbreak.
𝜗𝜚 taglist: @unriding @17020
#boku no hero academia#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugou#bnha fanfiction#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugo#bakugo katsuki#my hero academia#bnha x reader#mha x reader#my hero academia x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugo angst#bakugou angst#mha angst#bnha angst#my hero academia fanfiction
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Your Eyes Whisper Have We Met - Chapter 24
Ch. 24 | Ao3
Thanks as always to @witch-and-her-witcher and @popjunkie42 for being the best beta readers and loves of my life!
[TW for violence, blood]
All morning, Feyre had known the day of her task was upon them.
She wasn’t sure how, something in the air or her bones, maybe. Some sort of knowing that this might be her last day alive. Of course, every day here had brought some semblance of that since she’d arrived, but today, it felt palpable– something she could nearly reach out and touch. Her mortality was oozing through her veins, pushing slowly against the magic within her as though every piece of her was restless and fighting amongst themselves.
Rhys seemed to know it, too. He’d awoken with his hands in her hair, then dipped wordlessly beneath the covers to languidly taste her again. He took his time with her, as though he was savoring every single minute. Feyre was all sighs and gentle scraping of her nails down his scalp and spine, and Rhys dragged her pleasure out as long as possible, as though it might be the last time he would.
It could be.
She wound her fingers through his hair, both to ride out the sensations and also to touch him, to run her hands along his neck, his ears, memorizing every detail of what he felt like. If she were to die, she would remember these things as she went. The feel of him this close, the gentle, tender touches that he placed reverently on her skin, even as he pushed their passion to the forefront.
Without words, she returned his actions, intentionally and slowly, hanging onto every moment. She relished the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips and lips. She memorized the feel of his body beneath hers, the quiet sounds he made as he let himself go to the ways she made him feel. She would hold on to these memories and all their others until she was ash in the wind.
After, they lay together, their bodies sated but their hearts still wanting and waiting and pulsing in time with each other. She could feel his heart beating with hers, not from where she lay her head on his chest, but within her own. Every beat echoed against his, sounding back and forth like the passing of life between them. They thrummed like a rhythm, beat like a song. Maybe even when she was gone, his heart might still beat for them both.
It’s tonight.
He knew. He put his fingers beneath her chin and gently pressed her face upwards to kiss him deep and slow. He kissed her like they had all the time in the world, like it wasn’t ticking down around them.
They’d said the words time and time again. Promises had been made, hearts sworn, and there was nothing left to do now but hold each other close, hoping that with enough pressure they might permanently fuse, their bodies refusing to let go with the same adamance as their hearts. He had asked once since their first day under the mountain about the bargain, but all Feyre could do was shake her head, her eyes burning with tears. She hadn’t figured out what had gone wrong, and she had accepted she probably never would. The magic was still binding her from speaking, so instead she spoke the words I love you over and over so that, even after she was gone, he’d never forget the sound.
They had made their vows, even without a priestess, without a ceremony, but those promises meant everything.
Unbreakable vows, both spoken and soundless.
The words echoed in Feyre’s mind. The answer to the riddle hadn’t been love, and neither had her bargain, in the end. But the words still rang true for Feyre. Perhaps marriage or promises or friendships or family might work, but Feyre wasn’t willing to hang the freedom of everyone under the mountain on her guessing at a riddle. Like Calla, it would be her last ditch effort if all else failed. She hoped that it wouldn’t come to that.
Their time was destined to come to an end, and Rhys was summoned out by the guards to attend early with the other High Lords. They were to be the only attendees at dinner tonight, some sort of sick celebration before the final task that Amarantha wasn’t even trying to hide. Feyre was sure that was intentional, a bit of gloating, a bit of torture for Feyre as she waited, knowing what was to come.
Rhys had kissed her again, pouring every bit of emotion into it, his hands on her face like he never wanted to let go. She’d pushed every thought and feeling down that bridge between them, solid and unfailing as ever, and she felt it when he sighed into her mouth.
“I love you. I just want to say it out loud one more time.” Feyre wanted to look into his eyes and hear the words around them.
“No goodbyes.” He kissed her again, the galaxies of his pretty eyes lined with silver. “No goodbyes, Feyre. You can do this, and I will see you after.” She nodded, the tears gathering, their fingers touching until the last possible moment when they had to drop hands. Once he’d gone, she whispered her goodbyes into the empty air instead.
He’d made sure to leave her dinner, but her stomach roiled at the thought of food. She paced, she stretched, she meditated– anything to prepare her mind and body for the onslaught to come. Would it be physical? Another monster to chase her into the jaws of death? Or would it be logical? A puzzle she could struggle with, this time with no one left to help.
She breathed deeply, remembering Rhys’s mindset on it all. What was coming was coming regardless of how she worried or paced. She bathed and picked at the food and tea, stuffing down a few bites. She wouldn’t be dressed in court attire tonight, and Rhys had left out a simple but soft tunic and pants for her, a leather tie to pull back her hair the way she liked. Her heart already ached with the absence of him, but she let it fuel her. Amarantha had done unspeakable things to him, the love of her life, and she planned to continue doing so long after Feyre was dead and buried in the ground. It gave Feyre incentive to fight, to watch Amarantha die in the cruelest ways imaginable. She wanted Amarantha’s blood warm and blooming across her skin as she pulled out her still-beating, black heart. She wanted to watch as the light left her horrid eyes. Feyre wanted to dance in a pool of her blood. Feyre would fight until her very last breath if it meant Rhys would never be touched by that horror again. The thought of it alone made her want to rip the wagging tongue from Amarantha’s throat herself.
When the knock came at last, she took a deep breath before answering, steeling herself. She would not make herself look afraid today. Today, she would be brave, and she would fight.
The guards led her down the familiar path to court, one she could walk in her dreams now. At least, her nightmares. The magic of the room rippled over her as she entered, the coppery smell of it already in her nose. What magic was being used here so strongly she could already sense it?
She reached out to Rhys, but felt him distant, closed off to her and barely recognizable. The panic leapt into her throat.
Of course. Amarantha had already cloaked her in the spell. The feeling of magic as she’d entered had been the barrier. Feyre’s heart sank. It wasn’t the help she worried about as much as his silence. It was the inability to say goodbye if things went wrong. She still had so much to say to him.
She should have insisted she say the words. Should have left him a note in case it all went wrong. Should have, should have…
She lifted her chin. She would say them when she won.
The crowds parted as she entered, flanked on each side by a guard as she made her way through the crowded room to the dais. It was silent as a tomb, none of the revelry she was so used to here in this macabre, beautiful prison. The fae did not speak, and money did not exchange hands. But as she passed, some kissed their fingers and held their hands out to her. A farewell to the dead, a good wish for the martyr. Their fates rested on her shoulders, too– their last chance at freedom. There was hope in their eyes; there was reverence. She wasn’t sure, after what she’d done, that she deserved it. But she intended to do her best to fight for them anyway, for all of them. She kept her shoulders squared and her head high as she neared the throne, Amarantha poised above them all with nothing but malice and intrigue in her eyes.
Feyre wanted to kill her.
Her hands twitched at her sides as she stopped in front of the dais. Tamlin sat by Amarantha’s side once again, back to looking like she was nothing at all to him. It didn’t hurt her anymore, but it did confuse her. He’d openly sat forward at the task with Calla; he’d shown interest. Everyone with eyes could have seen him. What could possibly have changed? She looked away from his expression to find Lucien or Rhys in the crowd, but the angle of those surrounding her made it impossible to see.
“Hello, Feyre.” Feyre hated her name on Amarantha’s tongue– hated that Calla had given it to her so freely. The humans had warnings about the fae learning your name, and hearing hers tumble from Amarantha’s blood stained lips, she could understand why. Feyre fought the urge to curl her lip, keeping her face neutral but making a point to meet Amarantha’s eyes. “It’s time for your last task. I do hope you’re as excited as I am.”
Feyre didn’t speak, just kept her eyes trained on Amarantha. She rose to the challenge, the disrespect in the gaze raising her hackles, though she fought to remain calm. “I don’t suppose you’ve figured out sweet Calla’s riddle, have you?” She pretended to pout, then smiled. “Unfortunate. It was such a lovely answer.”
She thought about Rhys, then, about all the lives that hung in the balance. She was ready, as ready as she could be.
“Any last words, my dear?”
Feyre had plenty, but she chose them carefully.
“I am not here out of obligation. I am here for love. You speak of our sordid, fickle human hearts, but you don’t know anything about the depths of my love. I may die here today, but if I die, I went knowing I did it all for those I care about. I don’t know that you’ve ever been able to say the same for yourself.” Feyre was taking a risk, a calculated taunt, but she needed the words to be in the ears of the people. She needed the final entreaty to ensure they were more likely to take her side if push came to shove. She felt her own anger, the residual exhaustion and hate and grief, all bubbling within her. Damn the consequences now.
Amarantha snarled at her words, drawing back in the seat but leaving her scarlet claws digging into the armrests. “We’ll see.” The words were spit with narrowed eyes, but the smile that curved across her face was grotesque in its grandeur. Feyre worried that smile meant Amarantha had one last trick up her sleeve, and she braced herself for it.
She still hadn’t seen Lucien or Rhys, but she could feel their presence there, she knew they were watching. Everyone’s eyes were on her as the great doors to the room opened again and the guards dragged in three figures, bound at the ankles and faces covered in burlap. From their statures, it seemed to be two females and a male, though the clothes were so baggy and ragged that it was hard to tell. They moved their heads around as though trying to place where they were without sight, their moves jerky and frantic beneath their hoods. One stumbled, and the guard ripped them back up roughly as they yelped behind what sounded like a gag. Feyre’s chest ached. Would this be another fight to the death? She wasn’t sure she had it in her to kill anyone else, despite what was on the line, unless it was Amarantha herself.
The guards dropped the figures at the foot of the dais, the prisoners' knees hitting the marble painfully hard. Feyre could tell the one in the middle was sobbing, their shoulders shaking violently as they kneeled, covered head bowed as though in defeat.
What was this?
In another moment, a lacquered, shining wooden box was thrust into Feyre’s hands by a guard standing by.
“Oh, do open it, dear. I love gifts,” Amarantha cooed from her throne. Nausea was rising in Feyre’s throat, the confusion over what was happening forming a dense stone in her stomach. Where was Rhys? She pushed out with her mind again, finding his presence there but still distant and unreachable. Her fingers shook as she fumbled with the latch, the box light in her hands and yet feeling like the weight of the world. As she opened it, she understood why.
In the box sat two sharp daggers, one glinting in the golden lights of the room, and the other shining dully with an expert wood polish.
One iron, one ash.
One for humans, one for fae. Her eyes shot back to the figures on the floor, her breathing accelerating in her chest.
Amarantha drawled as though she were reading a to do list, and not doling out a final judgment. “Stab each of these unfortunate souls in the heart. They’ve done nothing wrong, of course. But that’s a judgment for you to mete out.” Her smile was filled with violent joy as she spoke the words. “Will your tender human heart kill three for the lives of many? You certainly didn’t seem to have a problem killing your own friend. So weigh them, Feyre– their lives, your options.” She sat forward in her throne, eyes glittering. “You can, of course, always spare them. It’ll cost you your life, unfortunately, but a bargain’s a bargain.” She whispered the last bit with such vitriol that Feyre felt it cut as acutely as if she’d used knives. Her heart was pounding from her chest, her temples beading sweat as she realized what Amarantha intended.
Two humans and a fae, dead at her own hands for everyone’s freedom. For her freedom. The math was obvious, the answer obvious, but there would be no winning here.
Three innocents for a future. Not just for her, but for Rhys and Lucien and Tamlin and Helion and Lucien’s mother and everyone here.
A future.
But Calla’s face swam in her mind, the betrayal in her hollow eyes as Feyre’s knife bobbed in her throat. Could Feyre do it again? Could she do it three more times? Could she hold all four souls on her conscience forever?
Could she hold the souls of everyone else she’d be forsaking if she didn’t?
She supposed she would be dead, at least. But everyone else would still be suffering here.
She wanted to cry. Was it worth it? The balance?
Would she ever forgive herself?
She stepped forward, grabbing the daggers in her hands and dropping the box.
She would do this for them. For everyone. And she would suffer the consequences later, but there could be no later if she did not make this sacrifice. Her guilt would be her price to pay, her penance, but everyone would be free.
Three lives and her soul in exchange for the lives of thousands. She raised the dagger.
“Wait!” The trill of Amarantha’s voice darted out over the crowd. “Wait, wait, wait.” Everyone seemed to let loose a collective breath. “We must remove the hood first, of course. Guards?” Feyre thought, then, she might actually be sick. She would have to look these people in the eyes as she killed them.
They had lives, families, too. They might have a loved one, a husband or wife, a mate, a father, a mother, sisters, brothers. She imagined the lives flashing before their eyes as the guard moved to lift the hood. Who was she to make this call? Who was she to decide their fate?
Do it, Feyre. Just do it. For Rhys.
She nodded her resolve and blinked away the tears as best she could while the guard stepped forward, ripping the hood off in one motion and tearing a hole straight through Feyre in the process.
There, on the floor in front of her, knelt Nesta, her steely eyes filled with horror and rage and fear.
Feyre did vomit then, the reaction entirely out of her control and she turned and spit bile onto the floor. Her vision was swimming, the roaring in her ears almost canceling all other noise entirely.
“No,” she whispered as she turned back, taking in Nesta’s messy blonde braid, her tear-streaked face. She had a gag in her mouth that she’d soaked through, and her teeth clamped over it like a frightened animal fighting for their life. “Nesta…” Feyre moaned quietly, the word rocking through her and tearing her to shreds.
“Oh? Someone you know?” Amarantha’s voice was filled with pep and joy, and as Feyre turned with narrowed eyes, she did snarl. “Ooh, excellent. What a small world!” Her voice dripped in sarcasm, and Feyre ached to sink her own teeth into Amarantha’s neck.
The panic was overwhelming her, cutting even through the rage to sit on her chest like a weight. She couldn’t kill her sister, no matter the odds. If she could only talk to Rhys, if she could–
But something about Nesta caught her eye. The likeness was remarkable, down to the stubborn hate in her expression that Nesta got when she dug her feet in about something. Feyre knew that look, had grown up with that look. She could see that look in her sleep, could replicate it on canvas if she tried. It was so entirely Nesta.
And yet, this was not.
The edges of her crinkled, the air around her glowing strangely in Feyre’s periphery. She searched frantically, her eyes scouring every part of Nesta as she pulled from within.
And the glamour peeled back.
Feyre could see the guard beneath the glamour, the ones with the red skin and sunken eyes that had watched the dungeons. The guards like the one that Rhys had misted in the very room for daring to call her a whore. They were Amarantha’s personal guard, and they had been glamoured to look like her sister. It seemed the magic block did not apply to Amarantha.
“Come now, Feyre. Make your choice,” Amarantha called over her head.
But Feyre had no choice to make.
Feyre shoved the knife into the guard’s chest, twisting it slightly at the last minute as she remembered their treatment of Calla. Taking innocent lives would destroy what was left of Feyre’s soul, but no part of these individuals remained innocent, and she had no qualms about sending a knife through their hearts and watching them bleed. When she turned, even Amarantha couldn’t hide the shock on her face as she took in Feyre’s arms soaked and dripping in blood. She prayed she had gotten it right.
Feyre knew that when Amarantha recovered, she would use this against her, another trick to prove humans were incapable of love. She would highlight for them how Feyre would so easily stab her own sister for her personal gain, and it would prove Amarantha’s point. But the crowd didn’t look horrified, they looked hopeful.
Feyre was already moving on to the next figure. She knew who would be beneath the bag before it was ripped off of the golden curls. She forced herself to react, to gasp and squeeze out a few tears as she beheld the sobbing figure of Elain, and the guard beneath. Feyre turned and pretended to retch again, letting her back arch and the sobs bread through while the crowd watched on. If Amarantha could use this to her advantage, then Feyre could too.
Look how the human would put the fae before her own family. Look what she is willing to sacrifice for the good of many.
She could only hope they would forgive her once the truth came out. She looked back to the figment of Elain. They’d captured the big, brown doe eyes so perfectly, the freckles across her nose that her long eyelashes swept against when she blinked nearly identical. Feyre was sure that if she spoke, the voice would send shivers down her spine at the likeness. Feyre noted the same uncanny mannerisms as the Elain sobbed, the smell of honey and cinnamon even permeating the air. The quality of the glamour was unreal, and even though she knew it wasn’t really Elain, Feyre’s hands shook while she shoved the iron through her sister's chest, watching the blood burble down her sternum and stain the fabric of her dress as she fell.
She felt no remorse about the guards, but felt ill as she took in what looked remarkably like the lifeless bodies of her sisters on the floor.
Then the reality of it hit her.
The likeness was remarkable because Amarantha knew what her sisters looked like. She conjured the likeness of them, because she could conjure the likeness of them. The understanding was a punch to her lungs. These were not her sisters, but Amarantha had eyes on them. She knew what they looked like.
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
She was chanting the word like a mantra, a command. Her throat closed as she swallowed the tears and panic. She wanted Rhys— needed Rhys to tell her what this meant, what to do.
“See how easily she kills the ones she loves? See the fickle, flippant human heart?” But Feyre was fighting the rising vomit again. Where were her sisters now?
Think this through, Feyre. Take a breath.
Calm. Calm. Calm.
She tried to summon Rhys’s voice in her head, tried to imagine how he would reason with her if he was here. She sighed, focusing, as though his low baritone might swim around her consciousness at any moment.
Rhys would tell her that if Amarantha had her sisters, they would be here. If she’d had full access, her sisters would be the ones dead on the floor, not just their image. Feyre fought for breath, the air gasping in and out of her as she placed her hands on her knees. Rhys would remind her that Amarantha was true evil, and that if she’d had the ability to get her sisters in her clutches, she would delight in nothing more than watching Feyre be forced to decide whether or not to kill them.
These were not her sisters, and they easily could be. For now, they were safe.
Thanks, Rhys, she spoke in her head to no one. She felt him there even when he wasn’t, that presence of him living within her through all reason, through all obstacles and sense.
She stood and stepped to the last figure. Would this be her father? There had been a knife meant for a fae, but who else would they bother to glamour that she cared enough about? Lucien would die with her anyway, and Tamlin sat on the dais.
The thought flitted across her mind like the dragging of a knife.
Rhys.
She had felt him earlier. Far away and distant, but he hadn’t seemed distressed. The magic was blocked, but the smallest hints of it had crept through.
It couldn’t be him. The guard ripped the hood off just in time, considering Feyre was about to do it herself.
The blonde hair tumbled out of it as emerald eyes met hers through a gilded mask. His expression was wild as he fought against the gag in his mouth. Feyre had been expecting tendrils of inky black night, pleading yet forgiving violet eyes. She gasped when her mind caught up, the shock of it causing her to stumble back.
Feyre searched to tear the glamour away. And found nothing.
There was no glamour.
Before her, kneeling on the ground, was Tamlin.
She whirled to look at Amarantha and the chair beside her. Where Tamlin had been, now sat the attor, grinning ear to ear, his rotted fangs on display while Amarantha smiled and tipped her head at Feyre.
She turned back. It was truly Tamlin in front of her. There were no glamours here, only Tamlin on his knees, his life about to end at the tip of her ash dagger. He breathed deeply in, then exhaled, his eyes begging her, pleading. Not for her to not do it, but for her to end it quickly.
At all costs.
His words from the night before rang through her mind, rattling and catching. It had been a goodbye. He had known yesterday. He’d known and been bound, Amarantha’s last special form of torture. Had she known they’d met and spoken? Had she set him up to make it hurt one final time?
He’d all but given her permission to kill him. Permission and forgiveness.
The sob left her before she could strangle it back, her hand coming up to her mouth in shock. She felt something hot dripping onto her arm, and realized they were tears. She was crying.
“I’m sorry,” she croaked. “Gods, Tamlin. I’m sorry.”
He closed his eyes, as though each word battered him.
At all costs, he had said. But the price was too high. She nearly begged him to give her something else, anything else, but in his eyes all she found was desperation and forgiveness.
Don’t forget what I said, Feyre, a long time ago in Spring about falling in love.
He had said that before when they spoke. He’d said it again, too, as he left.
Feyre wracked her memory as she beheld him in front of her, ready to have the knife shoved into his chest. Expecting it. Accepting it.
She remembered the porch nights, the setting sun and the sounds of Spring around them. Remembered their laughter and their jokes, their banter and their jibes. She remembered what it felt like as she eased into their companionship, that shock of understanding what it felt like to be a part of a family she’d helped build. To belong.
“Tamlin, do you even want to fall in love?”
“Of course I do. Who doesn't want that? But not like this.”
Lucien raised his bottle to him. “Love is pain, my dear friend.”
Tamlin forced a chuckle. “Yes, yes, Lucien. My heart of stone and I are well versed in your feelings on love.”
She remembered. And it hadn’t been the only time.
“Do you love her, Tam?”
“No,” he said finally. “I could, one day, maybe. I care for her, even when she grates against my nerves. But no. Heart of stone, remember?” He thunked a broad hand over his chest, a small, sad smile tugging at the corner of his mouth before it disappeared.
Feyre nearly gasped, pulling back at the last moment, but Tamlin had seen the change in her, his eyes glowing as he beseeched her to remember, to act. She gave an almost imperceptible nod. His heart was made of stone. It wasn’t a figure of speech, it wasn’t self deprecating. Amarantha had literally turned his heart to stone.
Just like with the glamours of her sisters, she thought around it. Amarantha wanted Tamlin, more than anything. It was the entire reason they were all here. She wouldn’t risk him just to kill Feyre. Amarantha was ancient and clever, and she did not put all her hope on humans or their actions.
Which meant she knew that, even if Feyre did it, it would not kill him.
Do it, his expression said, the slightest nod back at her. Please.
His eyes begged.
And Feyre shoved the ash dagger straight into his chest.
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Home - one-shot [ghost]
MASTERLIST
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x reader/you
WARNINGS: smut. angst, mentions of death
It would take more than steam to calm you down. Or scalding water… or the bubbles…
You wondered if it would ever get old- the worrying…
The unknown.
It should have taken all but six months of being with him to realise how overcome with grief you were when he was sent overseas on classified, top secret missions.
But as the months- years- go by of him nestled against you in bed before being ripped away at the flip of a switch, it became apparent that you would never know the true nature of his K.I.A.
Hopefully that never happened.
You think maybe the bath wasn’t the best choice to release your nerves- a barrel of worst case scenarios…
The only reason why you hadn’t walked out the door of your shared house was just him. The man who you’d met in hospital- him the unwilling patient and you the nurse who had to put up with his bullshit. Truly the worst patient you had ever had, Simon Riley was never the type to accept help- something you’d learn swiftly.
Despite that, you still accepted the advances of this tall, hulking man.
The next day you were in a pub with him, learning he indeed knew how to perform stitches but a Scotsman had abandoned him at the hospital to get medical treatment.
On that first ‘date’, he kissed you. Nothing more nothing less.
After that you didn’t hear from the broad accented man for over a month. ‘Another time getting ghosted’, you thought.
Until he appeared outside your apartment door one day, a skull printed balaclava covering his face. But you knew those big puppy dog eyes, you saw them in your dreams. His lips…
Oh god, you missed his lips. Their heat, how they fitted and curved just how you needed them.
Over that half decade of knowing Simon you had grown accustomed to them being used for more than kissing. That’s why your middle finger grafted circles.
You would be sweating from the molten memories, but the sauna of a bathroom had that covered.
Remembering his taste, his roughness… that intensity of having his whole undivided affection.
Big brown eyes watching you come undone on his tongue, fingers or cock… time and time again. Countless amounts of times.
You didn’t know you were crying or that another hand had replaced yours, rubbing the bundle of nerves, “You couldn’t wait for me t’ get back…” Low, sensual and you slipped lower into the water. Mostly in shock, a tad by being a klutz.
Your heart hammered slow, breath quicker as his body… that perfect, damaged body slipped in behind you. Large hands at either side of your hips, head feeling fuzzy you rested against his broad shoulders as he lifted you onto his bare lap.
How long had he been watching? Clearly enough to strip down, even his mask on the floor.
You attempted to get words out but his thumb over powered you. Teasing your wet core, lapping over that sensitive bud; reading your moans. His cock begging to release its tension. But no thoughts mustered in your head, his fingers- long and thick and scarred- scissoring open that tightness, “You’ve got t’ relax, luvie… so fucking tight…” How could you relax with this soldier behind you?
Your silence spoke as much- you were furious at him. He keeps leaving you for weeks on end and you never know if he’s coming back with his bags or in a body bag… “I didn’t know if you were dead, Si,” that cut through the built up tension with a knife. His actions stopped, his chin leaning on your shoulder. Thumbs patterning the skin of your thighs- numb murmurs of tickles along your flesh. “You didn’t contact me, to let me know you were alright…” The water grew cold, so you stood. His eyes glued to your back, maybe other parts of your body.
Though, you felt colder than the ice. You loved him, would die for him… sometimes you just hated his job, not him.
The night terrors he had when off-duty, holding him for hours on end… knowing you would fall asleep but he never would.
Scars, beautiful as they were, he came home with a new set of them. She turned to him, and it looked like he got caught up in an explosion.
He towered over you, you swore he would make anyone feel tiny but knowing what he can do to you first hand… you were slick again. Even with the new brandish on his V-line, “Grenade? Molotov?” You grabbed for a towel, facing away deliberately. Venom on your tongue.
Warmth spread over your shoulders, tension kneaded away, “Calm down… an’ how’d ya know it was a Molotov?” It was difficult to ignore his intoxicating smile in the mirror. Shoulders swamped by his wider frame, his tattoos brandishing his sleeve. It was impossible to remain fuming at Simon. “‘t was only first degree, no hard shit…”
“You’ve been hanging out with MacTavish too much…”
“Ever try mind readin’?”
“Must’ve to put up with you,” his hand dragged down, back to between your thighs. “Si, I’m-,” you became hoisted up, cradled in his arms. Like he did the day you moved into your house two years ago. “Try eating me out and you’ll lose your neck…”
There you were, mewling his name with your thighs draped over his shoulders. Back flush against the duvet fabric, he looked delicious on his knees. “Tastes like fuckin’ honey,” Barely able to hear him over the drumming in your ears but you always would… like this you were at his mercy- and you both craved it.
He flicked that spot, over and over. Suckling patches of purple onto your apex. Pain that had your nails scraping at his shoulders, up to the shaven underside. Gripping onto the blonde, earning a moan from your soldier. “I fucking need you, Si!” Head thrown back, teeth gritted as you toppled over the edge. His tongue lacing you through the orgasm. Legs akimbo, enough to see those puppy dog eyes glazed over. Caged in lust.
Tongue in a stripped lick, up to your breasts. Distracting from him lining up, “Let me return the favour-,” your efforts strangled. A high pitch moan followed, tears fizzled the corners of your eyes. A straight thrust and you were clinging onto the scars and the muscles at your disposal.
Foreheads joined- maybe for support on his end. Definitely on yours. “I fuckin’ love you…” he hummed against your lips. “I’m finally home…”
#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley smut#ghost#ghost cod#cod#cod x reader#cod modern warfare#call of duty#smut#cod smut
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"I said
Silence.
I warned you, If you won't stop, I would do it myself."
Francis wasn't done with him. Not yet anyway. But he would make him obedient. Wordlessly taking orders like a machine. No more back talk. He would make him perfect. At least… that is....Until Logan shows up.
Chapter 3.
Brand New City
Cw: Dead Dove, Mentions of Rape, Kidnapping, Straight up torture, Various cruel and unusual punishments, Blood, Murder, Feral behavior, Descriptions of pain and wounds, Voices, Hallucinations, Extreme hurt/comfort, Angst, Loss of healing factor, loss of voice- Permanently(!), Character death.
You may experiance lots of crying.
He would hum if he could. Hum along to the electricity he could hear from the light above him. Make a song out of it. Harmonize with the screams.
But he couldn't even do that.
Opening the door was none other then the man who prevented him from ever doing that again. His head lowers on instinct, trying to get a better look through the sweat running down his forehead. He would have loved to explain to the reader how this place stunk. It SHOULD have smelled like rotting flesh, agony, and B.o. But it smelled of nothing.
Nothing at all.
He couldn't even taste the blood in his mouth.
The man in front of him smirked, too smugly for his liking. Clapping his hands together he stood about 2 feet from his chair, rubbing them together as he smiled bigger than the Joker at his batman themed birthday party.
“So. How's your recovery coming? Hopefully the boys weren't too rough with you.” He states, looking down on him like Johnathan Groff as King George did on John Adams. “You know how they can be. You know the saying, Boys will be boys.”
The comment was direct. It hurt. It hurt because he knew that his goons were in fact too rough with him. He knew he wouldn't give a rat's ass if they didn't feed him, punched him, kicked him. He didn't care if they held him down, beat him until he couldn't move any longer, coughed blood in their face or if they had their way with him until they became bored.. and it hurt.
Oh, did it hurt...
Still did..
Look, Wade could take a lot, he was already mentally snapped. So for them to take away that last bit of sanity he held? It was simply cruel. Like hanging a bone to a starving dog JUST out of reach no matter how far it jumps and snaps, always failing, eventually giving up, laying down, and accepting its fate of permanent malnutrition to the point of death. Accepting that by fighting it was only moving up their appointment with her.
With Death.
Wade felt like dying after what they've done to him. He knew he thought about it a lot but… He's never wanted to see her more than now. She would kiss him better.. she would take away his pain.
He was sure that his brain was rotting in places it wasn't before, the flesh of his mind decomposing, hot with dehydration and.. what was he talking about? Oh my god was he STILL talking? For fuck sakes.
Glancing up, Francis was still going on about something. Probably something stupid. Why did mad scientists always gloat to their victims?
He wondered how long he was going to let him rot like this. His limbs were already so numb, so heavy and felt like gravity was close to ripping them off with no help at all. It hurt.
That's all he could keep thinking.
It hurts.
What exactly? Well… Everything. Mainly his throat. God did his throat hurt. It throbbed, was sticky, bloody, and raw. His spine hurt, his toes hurt, his jaw hurt, his fingers felt so numb that he wasn't even sure if they were still attached. The soreness alone was killing him. Whatever he did to him? Wade felt like he enhanced his pain receptors. Taking them from a 15 to a 150.
It hurt so badly to breathe, each breath making his chest shake, rise and fall, trembling. This only enhanced, the sharp pain running through his heavy cheek, flinching as he was slapped.
“What's my name?”
Glancing up at him, Wade was more then confused. His body was falling into pieces and THAT'S what he cared about!? What's worse is he knew that he couldn't answer him. He was physically incapable of it.
“I said ‘What's my name?!” He screams at him, leaning in close, staring as Wade glared daggers at him, his mind already thinking of millions of ways to kill him.
If only he had the strength to fight..
Leaning in, Francis smirked that sick bastard of a smile, putting his hand to his ear. “Sorry, What was that? I don't think I heard you correctly, could you repeat that?”
About 5 full seconds pass before his grin gets widder, breathing out as he stands again, sighing in relief.
“Finally… Silence. What did I tell you? I warned you that If you won't stop, I would have to do it myself.”
He flicks Wade in the nose almost playfully. Wade, who, if it wasn't for the tape wrapped around his head to the point breathing through his mouth wasn’t an option- would have bitten his finger clean off.
Francis punches him. Hard. He breathed heavily through his nose, heaving and trying to groan out but nothing came out. Nothing ever came out anymore..
He laughs, smiling. Wade could count all of his teeth if his eye wasn't starting to swell up. Grabbing his face, tears forced themselves out of his eyes and down his cheek. Pulling him close, Francis put their heads together. “Oh, Look at you. So pretty when you cry.. are those for me? Hm? Ooh yes, Show me those big scared eyes. You aren't so full of quips now, are you?”
His hand reaches down, cranking up the collar around his neck, watching Wade's body shake. Not from fear but because his body was physically struggling to stay upright. He would have already flopped over if his arms and legs weren't chained, making him only slouch instead of fall to the floor.
“Let's be honest, you look better with your mouth shut anyway.”
Looking at him, he was confused. So confused. What was wrong with this guy? What kind of game is this? If Wade's voices didn't agree with him he would have claimed that Francis lost it far more than he did.
He pulls away, trailing a finger from the collar, going up his throat and across his jaw. “So let's make you gorgeous, huh? So… What's my name?”
Wade's eyes widen, his pupils, for once, shrinking. He squeezes his legs further together, trying to turn away only to flick him off with his untied finger, his wrists tied to the chair arms.
Francis slams a fist down on the finger, snapping it back as Wade jolts, silently screaming, huffing, beginning to hyperventilate and struggle against the chair best he could.
FffffUCK that hurt! He didn't remember such little fingers ever hurting that badly. Did it always burt that bad? Jesus christ! He needed out. He needed to escape. But he's already tried all his tricks. It only got him hurt more.
Again he hits him, slapping him with the back of his hand hard enough to bust his lip through the tape. The crimson that flooded his mouth made him flinch, gritting his teeth as he swallowed. It was agonizing. Each movement of his throat muscles was worse and worse, seeming almost paralyzed.
“Where do you think you'll go? Huh? You ain't going anywhere! And now look at what you've made me do!” He shouts, as Wade's head leans back, looking at him through his blonde eyelashes, exhausted, the vein they had in his arm pumping out what blood he was replenishing itself at snail speeds.
“You've made me ruin one of my best works yet… but that's okay. All good bitches break eventually. And then you'll be finally useful. The perfect soldier.”
What was it with people and the perfect soldier thing? Didn't the Winter Soldier already have this arc?? And didn't he already try to make him perfect in the first movie? God the writers are really getting lazy aren't they.. His eyes roll, and again he's hit, the sting running up his jaw and across his cheek, feeling the burn in his nose as it begins bleeding heavier.
“But no, you couldn't behave! So now you're going to die, alone, sitting in your own piss. What? Like anyone would actually come to save you?” he laughs. “You actually believe that? That anyone would actually care about you? You're disgusting. Fake skin and all, I know who you are underneath it all.”
Francis grabs his wrists, leaning forward. “Even your own mother couldn't love a face like that. Could she?”
‘He was probably right’, Wade thinks, feeling himself slipping away. His blood felt as if it were pouring out of him like a barrel of whiskey with holes shot through it.. Why didn't Francis just kill him already? He could easily shoot him. Get rid of him like the nasty scum he was.. but he didn't. He nee-
His mind switches to something else mid sentence in his head. A different voice taking over.
Whiskey… the smell of it stained on Logan's sweatshirts used to be the only thing that kept him sane, But now? It hurt too much to think about. It hurts too much to think about his loss. To think he would never smell that again...
If he thought about it anymore? Well, his heart was already about to die.. might as well go out thinking about that muscley hunk of Canadian. How gently he held him. How hot it was when he protected puppins from big dogs at the dog park or braided Laura's hair… how he loved him.
Truely.. loved him..
‘Never again, I fear’, Wade thinks and believes it brokenheartedly.
“Are you even listening to m-”
wwwwWWWOOOO
His head snapped towards the door, picking up a com as he clicked the button, walking away from Wade. Thank god. He was starting to worry that he'd kiss him. Ewww. He would never kiss someone named ‘francis’ or ‘ajax’ for that matter. Wade didn't like soap in his mouth.
“Turn that off! Now! What did I tell you morons abo-” There was shouting on the other end of the line before a scream. Something along the lines of ‘He's here’
“Who!? Who's here?- Doesn't matter. Shut the whole place down! Hello? God damn it-” he switched a line, the loud blaring of the alarm drowning him out. “Angel! What's going on up there? Hello!?? Why the fuck do I even pay you guys? For what?”
On the other line, there was shuffling, boots, shouting, “Find him!-”
The look on Francis’ face was golden. His little slave trade was getting busted. And Wade was physically chained to his seat to watch, death glaring daggers at him with the smallest, smuggest smirk under his tape, breathing through his nose heavily.
“This isn't over yet. Don't you even dare think I'm finished here! You Will obey me!”
The moment he ran out of the room to go save his research (or possibly abandon it), A rumble came from the wall.
Claws.
What? No. He was hallucinating again. His mind was so cruel to him now. Starved, dehydrated and exhausted, mentally physically and emotionally, you name it.
Leaning his head back against the chair, he sighs, watching as an imaginary Wolverine came through the wall, panting, snarling, feral. Like an animal hunting its prey.
The amount of dust and mold that came from the wall was enough to make him cough, and in an instant, Logan was at his side, tearing through the chains.
Damn.. He'd have to give the imagination team some props upstairs. This seemed way too real. The way the red lights flashed over his eyes made him look so pissed, his frantic worry in those blue eyes, the struggle in his voice to keep from crying as his nose twitched. He was sniffing him...he didn't recognize him…
His mouth opened to mutter something.
What was he saying? ‘Oh- hey! Stop shaking me!’ Is what he wanted to say, only to realize that.. Hallucinations couldn't touch you.
His eyes widened, He had given up on being pretty but if that was the truth he wouldn't know how to survive. But he was anything but pretty right now, snot, tears, blood and piss covering him.
It was now that Logan yelled something, Directing some agents or.. police? It was hard to tell when He felt like the ground was trying to drag him down, gravity taking hold of him as he slouched over in the chair, still in too much pain to support himself.
“I need a code, Get me a collar code, NOW!” he read his lips, though, he could have Said “I saw an old get me a dollar cod now” but that didn't make much sense, Wade thought. Then again he wasn't thinking much at all right now.
When Logan finally ripped off both collars and all of the wiring/tubing, he looked like he would puke at the sight of him. Pushing his shoulders up against the back of the chair, his hands shaking, covered in blood and sweat, tears flooding his eyes.
Aw.. he didn't like seeing Logan cry. He was saying so many things, shouting at him angrily, hurt. Those big Atlantic eyes becoming a true ocean. A soft smile came to his bruised and busted lips, staring at him so fondly, sympathetic. He missed Logan.. he missed him so much that his eyes stung just from seeing him. His love was so heavy, weights he could never escape in a room full of quicksand.
Wade opens his mouth but nothing comes out.
“Wade! Answer me! What did you take? What did he give you!? Honey, look at me! Please! Tell me, tell me anything! Wade!-” he shakes him again.
“Tell me what you took, Wade look at me, Tell me what'd you take? Wilson!.. please.. talk to me. Answer me, Wade!” He shouts.
He flinches. Hard.
“Oh… sweetheart....What did he do to you..?” His voice cracks, bringing a hand up to caress his cheek but Wade's hand comes up to hit it away, trying to instinctively turn away into the chair, hiding. He looked so.. terrified. Like he didn't know who he was.
Something about this sends Logan into a rage, growling loudly and snarling towards the door where he ran off. He stands, hairs on his body raised, eyes glazed over with blind hatred.
Just before he runs to shred the man who did this to his husband, He grabs him.
Shaking from weakness and fear, in that chair sat a man he barely knew, eyes as blue as his own, blonde hair growing to look like a buzz cut. So thin. So weak. His neck was burned, his nose was bleeding down his chin, his lip joining in, his black eye almost swollen shut, deep yellow and purple bruising on his rib cage, hand prints on his throat, internal bleeding in his gut. He could tell by the smell of him. That and the massive pooling that shown on his stomach.
His fingers were gripping on Logan's shirt, and tight from the looks of it.
As tight as his remaining strength would let him.
The pleading look in his eye's begged him not to go. Begged him never to leave his side ever again. Such big eyes.. such desperation.. so much pain.
Grunting, Logan points to the door. “DON'T let him get away or I'm coming after YOU!” he growls, watching as all of the remaining soldiers run out the room, leaving Logan with Wade. And Wade with Logan.
No one else mattered now.
Sitting in front of him, Logan held his hands, suddenly panicking. “Wade!” He shouted, squeezing his hand. It was cold.
Where were they? Alaska? Canada? No.. not Canada. If this was Canada he would have to move to a new city and teach himself how to die, how to bury a memory as his life was burying his own with each passing moment.
“Wade? Stay with me. Come on, Just be strong a little longer! Please- You can't leave me again!!” He shouts at the top of his water filled lungs, but Wade can't see anything. He couldn't feel anything either except the cold concrete against his naked stomach as everything disappears.
Heh… funny.. the one time God answered his prayers… When he said he wished he could see Logan again before he died, he didn't mean this.
As did everyone eventually.. as Logan was destined to.
This wasn't how he wanted to go out but.. he was pretty sure that Fate had lost her patience with him.
And so.. that's it... that's the final bell. Close the curtains.. roll the credits.. This movie's over. No post credit scene.
Just…
The End
#silence au#chapter 3#ajax#francis freeman#brand new city#deadpool and wolverine#poolverine#logan howlett#wade wilson#deadpool#wolverine#deadpool 3#deadclaws#deadpool movie#deadpool marvel#deadpool comics#slight jaxpool#gross#please read#took me a while#suffer <3#:)
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Broken Tea Cup
Written by cannibal_witchh
Contains: Alcohol, smoking, language, mental disorders, self harm, sex
Notes: Sorry, I have been infamously MIA as usual. I've been having a bad depression spell then I got hooked on playing SH2R and fell in love with this take of James. Because I've been down in the dumps I wanted to write on the perspective of being the one to love someone who is feeling sadness. Someone who battles with depression and guilt yet the reader will comfort and still see beauty in. It's always been a want of mine to expierence that kind of comfort when I have my depression spells. This does happen after Mary's death so just a heads up. Also, I haven't wrote in so damn long that it might show in my writing I'm pretty scattered brain. Thanks for checking out my story!
James. That name, that awful name. A name that drew from her chapped pale lips during her final moments. That name, which was accompanied with a desperate plea. A weak collapsing beg that was extinguished under goose down. James. That name drifted in the corridors of his dissociation, and reeled him back to reality.
"W-what?", James stuttered realizing he had another dissociative episode. Your eyes drew down to his hands, another cigarette was laced between his pointer and middle finger. His eyes followed your's, and shame spread across his face. " Y/N, I'm sorry...", his eyes darted to the ground, and he crouched down to extinguish the cigarette. " I'm having a really bad spell, Y/N. I'm so sorry...", his eyes grew glossy, you could see pink pooling under the skin of his nose, and his voice grew nasally. "James, please.", your hands reached out to cup his face. " You aren't a bad person. You are human. You may not have had the right to make the decision you did...but,", you were interrupted with a sniffle from James. His eyes shut tight, as tears began to run down his cheeks, and his hands met your's. You felt him tremble, his hands were shaking, tarnished with the scent of tobacco and callouses. " But, baby...thats your weight to bear. And everyday you punish yourself for it because you are sorry. This eats at you so much that you forget to live each day while you can. You aren't a bad person James. Give yourself some kindness.", you comforted him, bringing your forehead to press against his. His hair was matted together from anxiety sweat, and his eyes continued to remain closed. He refused to look at you. He was afraid he'd look back up to see her. See her in her frail and brittle state. How could he move on? While she was dead. Murdered. Move in with a healthy, warm, and lively woman. While his late wife was buried in the ground with her lasts memories being her worst. Move in with a woman, who possibly could bare children, dance, drink, make love, and who could give him comfort. Something she was unable to give him. He felt so wrong. How could he? All those memories were still there, yet he lives a new life as if none of it ever happened.
" I didn't show her kindness..."
" Love, please, you need to understand. There were so many emotions, and so much pain. I know you will never let this go but understand...she's no longer hurting. ", you couldn't pull anymore words together. Nothing would persuade him to move forward. He didn't feel a glimmer of comfort from those words. She's no longer suffering. That reverberated in his mind.
He let out a cough from all the weeping. His face reddened with grief and torment. " Let's go inside. It's about to rain.", you lightly held his hands and guided him into the house. His hands were clammy, skin stuck to your's. It didn't bother you, however, you didn't plan to release his hands from your's. " Sit.", you commanded as he sat on the edge of the bed still holding your hands tightly.
" I will never be her. I accept that. I don't punish you for still feeling the way you do for her. Things were complicated and difficult. You two had a life together. But James...I adore you. I want to be there for you until you are tired of me. Don't burden yourself with all these emotions. Let me take on some.", you felt his hands twitch, he seemed as though panic had spread all over his body. He finally looked up at you, sad glistened red rimmed eyes, and dried tears. " Ok.", was all he mustered in his response. His awkwardness still lingered even in his state of mind. He was never gifted with words. You knew this though. His actions showed his appreciation for you, not his words.
" I don't deserve another chance...another shot at having someone in my life like you.", he began fidgeting with your fingers. His eyes laying into your's. You could see all his brokenness. Every chip and crack inside him. All the hurt and ache bleeding through. He was a deeply broken man, and yet, you couldn't deny your adoration for him. " I wish I could promise you a wonderful life. But you...you've given me what I haven't given you. Unconditional love.", he felt so much guilt suffocating him, his heart racing with the weight of regret. Clawing at his ribs ready to burst, all the build up of hurt clinging under the shell of James. "James. I know you care for me. You've done alot for me. Please stop comparing how you and I love differently. I promise you, your presence and love is something I'm so thankful for. I only ask that you can eventually provide yourself that level of kindness.", you knew from behind his blue eyes that would never happen. His eyes clearly read there was no chance even a quarter of him could give himself love like what he scrapped along to give you.
His face looked defeated, he was staring at the ground, uncertain where his eyes should even rest. His hands still continuing to figet with your fingers. His leg bouncing up in down, slightly rattling the mattress " Y/N...can I please...touch you?", he awkwardly asked, his eyes tracing from the ground to your body to your eyes. He had always been touch starved. He would fall apart with hugs, kisses, and he'd lose himself intertwined under the sheets with you. You were lost at his question, he must've wanted to stop the conversation. It was traveling in a small circle. Be kind to yourself. Mary is no longer suffering. I can't forgive myself. I can't let go. You deserve better. All empty words and suggestions given at an already exhausted battle.
"Are you sure, we should?", you asked with surprise across your face. You didn't want to feel temptation drawing at your heart, but you couldn't deny...grief did bring people to want sex. The emotions with every thrust, every gasp, and every motion...it felt so genuine. Like the intimate acts the two of you indulged in was healing. Like he understood, he is allowed to feel pleasure. To be loved and held under such vulnerability. That even under such grim spells, he was still desired and loved in your eyes.
"I would like to...but only if you...", he continued his awkward mumbling. His eyes trailing away, trying to be discipline. and not draw his eyes to your night gown. The way it hung off your shoulders, scooping down to reveal so much chest, thin enough to show peaks forming when the temperature was low, short enough that it barely reached past your upper thigh, and barely giving modesty to your lace panties.
"Touch me.", you gave an approving look that sent him breaking from his refrains of exploring you. Your doe eyes gazing at him, exhausted from the tiring battle of begging James to allow kindness to himself. Maybe your body meeting with his would allow him this.
He let out a quiet mhm, and reached for your face with both large slender hands. He cupped both sides and led you towards his face. You saw his blonde eyelashes cover his sad blue eyes, before you closed your own eyes. A gentle kiss was exchanged. You heard him let out a low gasp. He brought one of his hands to the small of your back, bringing you into his lap. You could feel heat pressing against his jeans. A quick glance down, and you spotted small wet stain appeared beside his zipper. He was so easily excited, it didn't take long for him to leak desire.
He continued to kiss you, gently he nipped at your lower lip, and invited his tongue in your mouth. One of his hands reached to squeeze your thigh, his thumb rubbed circles along your soft skin. " God. I want you, Y/N.", apology could be heard in his voice, but also sincerity too. He did want you. He did find beauty in you. " Then show me.", you commanded as you guide your hands under his shirt to touch his bare chest. His heart raced, practically ready to burst from how fast it was pumping. He broke the kisses, his eyes half lidded gazing back at you. He brought both arms to hug you tightly, his nose pressed against the top your shoulder. His stubble tickled your skin. " Please lay down."
You obliged and fell slowly onto your back. James pulled his shirt over his shoulders, his body was lovely. It was realistic. Not some chiseled ab model. He had body hair littered from his chest to his lower abdomin. By no means had much toned mass, he had a bit of a lower stomach from drinking but he wasn't overweight. Just human. The heart breaking part of every time you witnessed James undress was what you saw on his arms. Deep scars. He used to self harm. He never liked visiting that topic but he would never deny that was a bad method of coping in his earlier years of grief.
You tried not to focus on that small detail of him. He was alive, that was a reminder of it. He unfastened his belt and let his jeans drop down to his ankles. He stepped out of them to crawl between your legs. You caught a glimpse of a very fevered erection. Reddened and dripping with lust. Or was it love? Maybe both. He hooked his fingers into your panties sliding them off you. " Please take off your top. I want to see all of you while I taste you.", his mouth was so close to it. His head so deep between your thighs, it was almost an art. You obeyed, your top flew across the room, until a gentle clash of fabric met the wooden floor. " Good girl."
He brought his lips to kiss your inner ones. His tongue traced the edge of your slit. Lightly it followed up and down until he started to softly tug on your labia with his teeth. He nudged your hips to lift a little more so he could savor your deeper. You followed, legs widened apart and your back arching up. Saliva ran down his chin, glistening his stubble in the dim light. He started to delicately suck on your labia and intermittently tease your entrance. Alternating between sucking and quickly lapping at your hole.
You couldn't resist a release of moans, your stomach rising and falling from your breaths increasing. You saw James occasionally glance to meet your eyes. It was like witnessing a starving creature consuming you without limitations. He moved his mouth to suck on your pussy, then tracing his tongue down to wriggle his tongue inside you. You felt your hips buckle, and your hands reached to grasp his soft blonde hair. You tugged it gently to get out a small groan from him. You felt his breath brush against your sensitive body. His tongue continued to press into you, his nose lightly rested on a patch of your pubic hair. James loved your natural side, if you missed shaving he couldn't possibly care. It was an opportunity to smell more of your natural musk. He felt more compelled to taste your pussy knowing he could smell your soft hair. Something about that interaction made him wild.
"Your a good boy, James.", you praised him. You saw him lift his face a bit with starry eyes. James had always been the more submissive one. The praise had always been a kink for him. " More, please.", he politely begged. His tongue dragged to your clit, circling it, and bringing himself to suckle it. " Sweet boy, you know how to please me so well. You are such a good boy.", it was hard to think clearly, with him roaming his tongue along your aroused body. " Am I really a good boy, momma?", he pushed himself up, until he hovered over you. His shoulders tensing from lifting up, his body towering over yours as he brought a hand to guide his dick into you. He brushed it along your slit, kissing your clit before he slid the head in. He was teasing you. "Yes, sweet boy, now go on, touch me as deep as you can.", you impatiently moaned, the rest of him slipped in. Both of you let out a loud gasp, your eyes both met. He brought his hands to lace with yours. " God, you're so beautiful.", his eyes watery with emotion.
"I could never stop fantasizing about you.", he was thursting relatively slow, just savoring you wrapped around him. It was a flustered feeling of craving him to go faster.
" Every day, I just think....uh...fuck..I think of how you're handcrafted for me. Your body sculpted to perfection."
" Aw, my sweet James.", your eyes grew emotional with his. Were you two making love? Was this no longer fucking?
"You're captivating. Every moan.", he thrusted deep.
" Every cry.", the thrust grew deep and you exchanged a yelp in return.
" Every time you shout my name.", he crashed his lips into your's forcing his tongue in. A guttural sound of satisfaction parting from his lips.
" Fuck. I can't take it.", you saw him tense, his eyes tightly shut. Hands gripping your's, nails practically digging into your skin. " Say your all mine."
" James. I'm all your's."
" Say you will have my children."
" I want to carry your babies."
A loud moan slipped from him, his thrusts were faster, the mattress creaked with each motion. You could feel his cock growing very hot as it stretched you apart.
" Can I...can I get you pregnant...now?", there was the awkward James. A few seconds of a dominant side came out and now it was back to the sweet shy man you knew.
You shot your eyes at his. He seemed as though he regretted the request, as if it was a slip of the tongue.
" You would be amazing dad, baby.", you gave a gentle smile. His eyes squinting as a smile formed across his face.
His thrusts were intense for several minutes before he grew sloppy. He brought his hands to slip under you body to bring you against his chest. He hugged you tightly as his pace became slower and drawn out. " I love you."
" I love you too, darling. It's ok, get me pregnant."
A desperate gasp slipped again, until it was followed with a hitch. His body tensed as you felt hot ropes deposit in you.
"Oh my god...I'm so sorry.", he panicked. His self worth reflecting back in his eyes. " James. James. James. Calm down. I want this. ", you grinned, pink dusted along your cheek and chest.
" You really want this?"
" I mean...its kinda a bit late. You already finished in me..."
"Oh....yeah...I guess that's...ermm..yeah. sorry."
" James...be quiet ok."
" Did you...cum?"
You let out a soft giggle and shook your head.
" Shit...I'm so selfish...I- I"
" We can go for another round in a bit, baby. Let's go grab some food."
" Oh...you want to go again?"
You nodded and rolled your eyes.
" Is this what you call pillow talk or after care?"
" Please don't say pillow talk."
Oh...yikes.
#james sunderland x reader#silent hill fanfic#silent hill#silent hill 2#silent hill 2 remake#james sunderland x fem reader
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