#can you tell i’m very good at delusional thinking | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kryptonitejelly · 4 months

Note

art donaldson x childhood friend reader who he hasn’t seen in a long time (whose had a crazy glow up) visits him at stanford at the same time as patrick and patrick starts hitting on her (him and tashi are in an open relationship) and art gets jealous.

(maybe she tells patrick she knows he’s in a relationship and he tells her tashi wouldn’t mind and she would probably be down to join idk)

art donaldson x reader // challengers // fluff; happy ending

a/n: i did not hit the prompt on the head 100%, but i’m not mad at it. this ended up turning into a monster i had no control off and ended up being alot longer than i expected (i haven’t done a word count, and did not mean for it to spiral into this but i enjoyed writing this very much). i am an art donaldson defender and this is my way of giving him everything he deserves (i hope you guys can see what i subtly tried to do in places - please leave comments/reblog if you see them, it would mean the world). also i typed this entirely on my phone without proofreading - you’ve been warned.

edit - as a disclaimer, i do not purport to comment on the victim/villain/any dynamic in the challengers universe. this space is purely for delusional thoughts and fiction only (see also)

Good luck.

Art shoots the text off to you before taking a swig out of cup of diet coke he has in hand. He leans forward, his forearms on his knees, teeth crunching on ice cubes as lets his gaze sweep across the court in front of him. It is devoid of players but already has the umpire and linesmen ready and waiting.

You’ll buy dinner if I win?

Art doesn’t expect to get a text back, so he checks his phone absently, but his face breaks into a tiny grin as he sees your reply. Most other players would have been hyper focused in the moments before a match but you, in the breezy light hearted way you always were, still had it in you to joke around.

Yes, but if you lose…

Art sends his response, the tiny grin still on his face.

I’ll feed you.

Your reply is fast and it makes art shake his head lightly a quiet chuckle dropping from his lips. He is just about to type another reply but is interrupted by the loud cheers that erupt from around him. Art looks up from his phone to see Anna Davies walk out on court in the same colour red as he had on. He claps politely with the rest of the men’s team who he was sitting amongst in the stands, in a show of support.

Art catches sight of Tashi and Patrick, both perched a few rows down from him with the rest of the women’s team both clapping and hollering in support. He notices the turn of Patrick’s head, no doubt to check in on Art but he doesn’t tilt his head or smile back in acknowledgement as he usually would - he is far too distracted by you.

Art can feel his jaw slacken slightly as you walk on court. He knows what you look like, but you in the flesh - Art thinks you are breathtaking. Your top is in a shade of your college’s colour, paired with a white tennis skirt that shows off a pair of toned, long legs. He catches a glint of metal just above your ankle, and he finds himself squinting in a feeble attempt to make out the look of the ankle bracelet that you have on. Art moves his gaze your face, taking in what he can see from his perch on the stands as you walk out towards your designated bench on the court, bright neon green bottle in hand, your tennis bag slung on a shoulder.

You had been close back home for most of your childhood and more formative teen years, and the both had kept in touch since he left for Stanford and you to your own school of choice, but too infrequently - the occasional text, more frequent reaction or comment on each other’s social media and the small conversations that spiralled from those interactions - like two planets orbiting in the same solar system, but not close enough. Life had overtaken, the excitement of moving your separate ways to a new environment, of college - tennis, academics, people, parties, it had overwhelmed you both, individually and together - made you just about forget that you had each other.

Art is transfixed. You are, lithe, glowing and with a hop in your step - Art finds himself questioning why he had never made more effort to keep you closer since you had both gone on your separate paths. He watches as you settle your bag on the bench, turning your gaze to the stands, eyes narrowing from the glare of the sun as you search the stands, only for your gaze to fix on his. Art sees you smile, lips turning up as you wink directly at him. It makes a series of heads turn to look back at him - your fellow team mates, the small group of supporters from your college who had come along, and the Stanford women’s team plus Patrick, half curious, half puzzled. Art can only raise a hand beside his chest in greeting as he remembers to breathe, letting the air he had been holding in his chest out.

He sees turn away while reaching for your phone which you had wedged in between the band of your tennis skirt and skin. Your fingers flying over the keypad briefly before you toss the phone into your tennis bag, hand fishing out your racket. Art feels his phone buzz in his hand and he looks down at the text that had come through.

Stanford still hasn’t taught you the right way to wear a cap huh.

Your text, a reference to his penchant for securing his cap on backwards, makes Art laugh, out loud, the sudden sound causing his team mates to crane their necks in attempt to look at his phone. Art swats them away as he refocuses his attention back on you, watching as you do a few hops, shifting your body weight from side to side before walking to your position on court, racket in hand. You lose the coin toss, and Anna choose to serve and yet your demeanour is one of ease, something Art can’t help but think is so stark in contrast to Tashi before a match. You aren’t smiling anymore, and yet in an unexplainable fashion, Art can feel you smiling as you bend to ready position, your hands flipping the handle of the racket around, poised to receive. He sees Anna toss the ball, her back arching, hand shooting up, before she connects her serve, and he watches you receive it with ease, your body moving in a smooth motion as you hit it back. Your strokes have their own weight and intention behind them, they are careful, thought out - but what surprises Art is he sees little calculation behind each. Instead, he watches as you let yourself feel each shot, as you let your instinct take control with each step. Art sees himself moving pieces of chess across the court when he watches replays of his game, but with your game, - Art manages to see colour, life, ease. He sees something he hasn’t seen in his tennis since he had last played with you, Art sees fun.

The match isn’t long drawn out, you win - effortlessly, just as each of your strokes and movement are. It frustrates Anna, as is evident from the increasing number of unforced errors she makes on her art which leads to her swearing loudly as you easily hit the last heavy, driving it quick and to the opposite corner of the court from where she is positioned. Art finds himself clapping enthusiastically along with the crowd as the umpire calls the game.

“You never told me you had such good looking friends,” Art feels an arm sling itself around his neck, pulling him close as he stands outside the court, waiting for you to finish your match debrief with the rest of the team.

“Shouldn’t you be with Tashi?” Art questions as he tugs himself out and under, away from Patrick’s hold. His eyes remain focused on the door of the tennis court, waiting for you to emerge.

“Some strategy meeting,” Patrick offers as explanation, “refocusing or something like that.”

Art starts to say something in response only to be stopped by the view of you walking out from the courts. You both lock eyes, not too similar from how you had with you on the court and him on the stand. Art thinks that your smile is more brilliant up close.

Neither of you say a word, as you walk up to him, hands reaching up to tug his cap off his head only for you to pop it promptly on your own head, the right way around.

“The right way,” you say in greeting, pointing towards his cap which is now sitting on your head, the Stanford red a confusing contrast to your your top, now a loose fitting tshirt in your college colours, as Art chuckles while running a hand through his hair, attempting to shake out any flatness.

“The red looks good on you.”

“Perhaps I should transfer.”

“Didn’t peg you for a traitor,” Art teases which makes you laugh.

“Do I get a hug,” you ask, both of you oblivious to Patrick who is just watching.

“C’mere,” Art says, his words inviting, but just almost slightly shy as he opens his arms to you. You step into his embrace, arms slipping around his body as Art brings his arms around your shoulders, hands bumping into the tennis bag you have on your shoulders. His embrace is familiar, and you let yourself relax into his hold.

“Could I get a hug?” you hear a different male voice chime in and you pull away to look curiously at the brunette who is standing just beside you both.

“Fuck off Patrick,” you hear Art say with no bite, but notice as he steps just that one inch in front of you in an attempt to place himself as some sort of barrier between you and the brunette.

“Patrick Zweig,” the boy says, ignoring Art as he proffers a hand to you which you shake to be polite while introducing yourself.

“Do you go to Stanford as well?” You take in his attire of jeans and a white tee, the lack of red - you would guess not but it didn’t hurt to ask.

“I’m just visiting,” he says, “I’m actually playing on tour.”

“Losing on tour,” Art corrects.

“Your tennis is insane,” Patrick comments, ignoring Art, “when will I see you on tour?”

“I don’t intend on turning pro,” you respond with the flash of a smile.

“Why?” Patrick continues the conversation, now slightly befuddled, “you’re a natural.”

You shrug with a laugh, not answering and simply brushing off his question.

“Why don’t I take you to dinner and you can tell me why.” Patrick’s statement makes Art roll his eyes.

“Aren’t you taking your girlfriend our for dinner?” Art chips to which Patrick simply shrugs not phased in the slightest and answers with a no.

“Thanks, but I already have a dinner to cash in on,” you offer Patrick a smile, before glancing at Art.

“I’m sure Art wo-”

“Nope, fuck off Patrick,” is what Art says again, not even giving the other man a chance to finish his sentence. It makes you laugh, but you follow as Art grabs your hand, tugging you off in a direction away from Patrick.

“It was nice meeting you Patrick,” you call out, turning your head towards him giving him a wave with your free hand, “good luck on the tour!”

You walk for a minute or two more until the tennis courts are out of range before Art stops. He lets go off your hand, but reaches instead to grasp the top of the tennis bag on your shoulder. You raise a brow questioningly only to have him tug again with a slight tilt of his head. You relinquish the bag to him and he hoists it on his shoulder instead.

“What a gentleman,” you joke, but with a smile on your face.

Art does a mock bow with a flourish of his hand which makes you laugh with a shake of your head.

“Your chariot awaits my lady,” he extends a hand to you, waist still tilted in a bow, but his head up and looking at you.

“Lead the way,” you place your hand on top of his again.

“My car is that way,” he says jerking a thumb towards his right as he intertwines his fingers with yours. Its the second time in the day where he’s holding onto your hand but you don’t think too much of it and neither does Art. It feels right, comforting, familiar and like it’s supposed to be - and you go with it.

“Sorry about Patrick,” Art says as he fiddles with the paper casing of the straw. You are both sitting in a booth, plates cleared, your drinks left in front of you. Art is leaning back but being across him you can feel his knees knocking into yours. Dinner had gone by way too fast for Art’s liking. There had been both plenty to catch up on, as well as new information to learn and yet - it had felt like no time had passed between you both.

“He’s a bit of an ass isn’t he,” you say as you lean back, a mirror of Art. Your comment elicits a bark of laughter from him.

“Girls don’t usually say that about him.”

“What do they say?”

“Well not say, but they usually fall at his feet or into his bed,”

“No,” it makes you crinkle your nose while you shake your head.

“His girlfriend Tashi,” Art says, fingers still fiddling with the wrapper, “we played tennis for her number, she chose him.” Art said referencing the tennis match between him and Patrick. His sentence is blunt, to the point, and yet manages to be vulnerable at the same time. Art surprises himself as the words slip out from his lips so easily but it feels easy to tell you, safe to let himself be vulnerable, fine to let you view him for who he truly is.

You both sit in silence for a beat or two, the only sound between you both being the rustle of paper in Art’s fingers.

“Well,” you begin, “if she made you play for her number, maybe its for the better you didn’t win.”

Art’s fingers give pause and he looks up at you. His expression is unreadable, but you don’t feel like you’ve said anything wrong - just the obvious.

“I guess you are right,” he says after a few seconds of silence, before raising his head to look at you. There is a small smile on his face that you can’t quite place.

“When have I been wrong Donaldson?” You challenge in jest as you lift a leg under the table to jostle one of his lightly. Art leans forward, managing to capture one of your legs, your calf in the warmth of his palm.

“You really want me to start?” Art questions as you wriggle your leg in attempt to get away but no no avail.

“No.”

“Let’s see, the time we were six and you thought that the way to get strawberry milk was to dump pink food colouring in normal milk.”

“Stop,” you protest, but with a laugh on your lips.

“Or the time we were ten and you were convinced that the park we passed by on the way home from school was haunted and we had to sprint past that stretch of sidewalk for 3 whole months.”

“It was creepy!”

“How could we forget the one time we were thirteen and you thought that the way babies were made wa-”

“Arthur Donaldson,” you protest, managing to wrestle your leg out of his grasp which has grown looser with each anecdote. It allows you to set your foot on the ground, body shooting up to lean across the table, your palm coming to cover Art’s mouth to prevent him from announcing any further recollections from your youth.

You can feel his breath hot against the palm of your hand as his muffled laugher fills the space of your booth.

“Art,” you huff, relinquishing his full name for his nickname again. You move to drop your hand from his face, but Art catches a hold of your wrist. You sit back down, butt hitting the seat again, but with your hand still stretched across the table, wrist still loosely wrapped in one Art Donaldson’s hand. His shoulders are still shaking, now with a silent laughter.

“Art,” you try again.

“I’m sorry, it’s just so funny,” Art exhales, trying to collect himself as best as he can. He doesn’t remember the last time he laughed like this, freely and with such reckless abandon over something so innocent.

“Your dedicated court jester, always here to serve,” you mock with a roll of your eyes.

“You’ve been derelict in your duties,” Art says, now calm, but his eyes still twinkling under a mop of strawberry blonde hair. He keeps his tone light but what he really means to say is that it has been too long. You chuckle, not really having an answer for him.

“It’s been a while,” you finally admit, both your hands now resting on the table between you, you wrist now lying upturned in Art’s open palm. You had always been close

“It has, hasn’t it,” it isn’t really a question. Art has missed you - something he hasn’t realised until today. He had let himself be distracted by the complex, focused toxicity that was tennis, Patrick and Tashi, letting himself get sucked into the whirlpool, that he had forgotten to hold on to the things that grounded him.

“Maybe we should change that.”

“We should change that,” Art corrects you and you can feel the tips of your ears burning, and the skin across your cheek bones tingling for some reason.

You aren’t quite sure how ended up here, but one thing had lead to another as you both made your way out of the restaurant and back to Art’s car, and the next thing you knew you were heading back to his dorm to watch reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer for some reason.

“How do you not find her hot?” You ask again for the tenth time as you both focus on the screen of Art’s laptop which is perched half on his thigh and half on yours. You are both sitting on his bed, shoulder to shoulder, both of your heads damp from (separate) showers in Art’s ensuite, and you smelling quite like him from having used his toiletries and borrowing a short and shirt set, both of which which were a baggy fit for you.

“I don’t know, I just don’t.”

“You’re rubbish Donaldson,” you snort, nudging your elbow lightly into his ribs with a simultaneous yawn.

“Tired?” Art asks, as you stifle another yawn.

“Yeah,” you accept, seeing little point in trying to hide it. You had after all, played a match today.

“I should really get back to the hotel,” you mumble, the back of your head leaning against the wall beside Art’s bed, eyes closing.

“You could just stay here,” there is a hint of hesitation in his voice because he isn’t sure if you’ll stay.

“Here?”

“My bed’s a double,” Art shrugs, “it would also be quicker for you to get to the matches tomorrow.” You aren’t playing but Art knows you would be expected to show up as a supporter for the series of matches between your two schools that continued tomorrow.

“Are you sure?” You don’t mind, after all - it’s Art, the boy you had known growing up, shared milkshakes and apple slices with after school, but you wanted to be sure he was truly fine with it.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Art moves to shit his laptop, lifting himself to bend over the edge of the bed to place the laptop on the floor, “you can take the inside.”

He flops down on the outside of the bed that is further from the wall too easily, his right hand going behind his head. Him moving forces you to move in tandem as you flop down on Art’s left, legs scrambling under the covers which Art has somehow managed to worm his way under in the flurry of movement.

Art reaches a hand over, his arm extending over you in the process to hit the light switch that he has beside his bed. It plunges you both into darkness, the only light the faint glow from the street lamps creeping in from below his curtains, and the glow of his digital clock.

You flip onto your right side, eyes closed, missing the turn of Art’s head as he observes yours features, closed eyes, lashes, nose, lips, finding his gaze lingering a moment too long on your lips.

“Stop staring Art.”

“Am not.”

“I can feel it,” you respond, lips curving into a smirk. It was a habit he had developed from the sleepovers you both had either in his living room or yours when you were both younger. You would close your eyes, just about to doze off, only to hear the faint shifting of a head against a pillow while Art turned to stare at you, his blue-brown eyes boring into you.

“Am not.”

“Go to sleep Art.”

“So I guess I’ll see you around,” You are standing just a distance off the side of the bus which is supposed to take you back to campus. The matches for the day had ended, with your school having won by one match.

“Yeah,” Art replies, drawing out his words as he takes you in, he finds himself think that he had very much preferred you in his clothes despite them being oversized and not as well fitted as your own. You had managed to change into a fresh set of school colours before the matches started earlier that morning, having pleaded with your angel of a roommate to help you lug your overnight bag, which you hadn’t even had the chance to unpack the night before, over to the courts before the matches had begun. She had taken one look at you in Art’s tshirt, shorts with his hoodie thrown over, and had given you the widest smirk known to man despite your insistence that nothing had happened.

“I think you are scheduled to come play next month,” you refer to the Stanford men’s team, “I’ll see you then?”

“Or I could see you next week?” Art says almost shyly as he raises a hand to rub the back of his head. Art was a walking oxymoron, easily grabbing your hand, asking you to sleep in his bed, and yet somewhat bashful in the moments in between, “the drive over is an hour, max.”

“I would like that,” your response earns you a mega watt smile, his eyes twinkling at you. You both hear voices calling Art away from the bus, one male, one female - but Art ignores them both.

“Yeah and I told her-” your sentence is cut off by a nudge to your shoulder.

“Stanford” you friend explains with slightly too much glee in her voice. She had seen the smile on your face after returning from your away game last weekend, and the way you had been constantly glued to your phone, grin on your face, laughter peppering your days, the name Art Donaldson a constant fixture in your notifications.

Your head swivels up and to your left to spot Art leaning against his black jeep, hands crossed loosely across his chest. He smiles when he sees you, and your face mimics his expression.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” you friend calls out as she pushes you in Art’s direction. You pull a face at her while rolling your eyes, but letting your legs carry you towards Art.

“Are you stalking me Donaldson?” You ask in jest. Art had texted you half an hour earlier, asking which part of campus your last class of the Friday was in and where he should pick you up from.

“Hundred percent,” he says as he opens his arms; you step into his embrace for a brief hug, before he turns to open the car door for you. You unload your bag from your arm, dropping it onto the floor of the passenger’s seat before climbing in. You move to close the door, but Art is in between you and the door, reaching over to click your seatbelt into place.

“Ready?” He asks, and you nod, gazing into bright blue-brown eyes.

“Positivism,” Art says simply at your question of what theory of jurisprudence he found himself most inclined towards. You think for a moment, the side of your face propped up with a hand, elbow on the counter of the bar you both are seated at, your body turned towards Art who is likewise, facing you.

“Positivism,” you roll the words around your tongue, “I guess it tracks,” you shrug, before raising a brow slightly, “but how does an engineering undergraduate so much about jurisprudence?”

“I read.”

“On jurisprudence?” You frown nose wrinkling as you reach your hand out to place the back of it against Art’s forehead as if to check if he had a fever, “are you alright?”

“You mean you don’t read engineering daily in between sets?” Art questions you with mock horror as he reaches up to tug your hand down from his forehead. Your hand ends up, yet again, in Art’s, which is resting on his knee.

“Why engineering, and not something with a lighter course load?” The underlying question is clear - Art had every intent of going the pro track post-Stanford, and it wasn’t that he would be making full use of his degree anyway.

“I don’t want the only skill I have to be hitting a ball with a racket,” he shrugs, “it feels good to know I can do something else.”

You hum in bother understanding and agreement as you feel Art’s thumb begin to stroke the back of your hand. It distracts you, his calloused thumb sliding across your skin.

“In another life I’m sure you would have made a darn good engineer Art Donaldson.”

Your words make Art laugh, something he found himself doing a lot with you.

“So, this is me,” you point towards the dormitory buildings up in front and Art slows his car to a stop, pulling the gear into park. He kills the engine before hopping out of his seat. Your hand is on the handle of the door, ready to open it for yourself but Art is faster, his hand on the outside lever, pulling the door open for you.

Art offers you a hand as you hop out of the jeep before he shuts the door behind you.

“I had fun tonight,” you find yourself saying, suddenly feeling slightly shy for reasons you cannot fathom.

“Me too,” is what Art says in response, his hands stuck on the pockets of his jeans, heels rocking in a back and forth motion. You see his gaze on you, locking with yours before flickering to your lips. It makes you bite down one on side of your lip, an action which causes Art to gulp, making the Adam’s apple on his throat bob.

“We should do-”

“Can I kiss you?” Art blurts out his question in a burst and you can see his face flush slightly as he asks, a surprising and yet apt contrast to the Art who had no qualms about holding your hand in his. You feel your heart quickening, and with the silence between you both - you almost feel as if you can hear each beat.

“Yes,” you breathe out, a small nod accompanying your response. You see Art’s gaze flicker to your lips again, but you would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about this.

Art takes a step forward, pulling his hands out of his pockets. You feel him cupping your face gently, and you tilt your head towards him. Your eyes flutter close and your lips meet.

Art’s lips are softer than you imagined. You feel his hands move, slipping down the sides of your body, circling your waist and pulling you closer. You drop your bag off your shoulder onto the floor as your hands move up, one to cradle the side of his face, and the other reaching behind, fingers weaving into soft curls as you tug him closer towards you. First kisses with someone new had always been awkward for you - teeth, lips, noses, as you each try to figure out the grooves and crannies of each other, but with Art - there was no such thing. It felt as if you both had learnt each other long ago, each in and out, the curve of his neck, and the the planes of your body.

You break the kiss first, pulling away, eyes still closed, feeling as if the breath had been knocked out of you in the best way. Your forehead pressed against Art’s, body held firmly against his.

“I hope you aren’t going to send me packing after that.” Your eyes flutter open at his words.

“You packed an overnight bag didn’t you?”

“I might have,” Art pulls you even closer, his arms wound tight around you.

“Presumptuous much?” You run a hand through the front of his hair, pushing his fringe back.

“Just good at reading the room.”

12 years later

The skin across your knuckles are visibly tight, your hands clenched into fists, the only sign of the nerves that have taken over and riddled your body. Your eyes are shielded by dark oversized glasses, but your pupils are darting left and right as the final point of the match plays before you. The stadium is silent, save for the pop of the ball and the grunts from the two players on court. You hear an exceptionally loud grunt, the whizzing of a racket whipping through the air, and then you hear it before it hits you - the roar of the crowd, the thundering claps, and you feel your body freeze as even the announcer goes wild.

“Art Donaldson, ladies and gentleman, our new US Open champion.”

You remain glued to your seat despite the commotion around you - family, Art’s team, cheering, jumping, excited hugs being passed around. Your eyes watch as Art runs towards the center of the net, hand raised as he waves to the crowd around. He shakes his opponents hand, before waving to each section of the stadium in thanks of their support and there he is, jogging towards you. His hair is dripping with sweat, plastered to his head, shirt clinging to his body. He extends a hand to you even before he reaches the sideline and your body reacts from habit, standing, your hand extending back towards him. A warm hand, the back of it still slick from sweat grasps yours, tugging you forward lightly.

“Hi,” is all he says as Art’s lips meet yours. Art enjoys the tennis, but he doesn’t need it - doesn’t need the tennis, the fame, the money, or the trophies - all he needs is you.

You hear the crowd go wild at the display of affection, the announcer’s voice booming over the sound system with something about Art Donaldson and his wife, but it all fades - the commotion, the sound, the people, the tennis, because all you see is Art.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#art donaldson #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x y/n #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson fic #art donaldson fanfic #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson x female reader #challengers #challengers fanfic #challengers fic #challengers imagine #not cm #not tg

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star-girl69 · 9 months

Text

So It Goes…

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: the one day chiron decides to switch up the capture the flag teams, and everyone knows you’re clarisse’s weakness, In A Good Way sequel!!

i changed my theme it’s me tho promise

a/n: protective clarisse the love of my life i love you i do i think we should get married actually anyways this one is sooooooo i got to explore a more casual side of clar’s and reader’s relationship in this (for like a min) i hope you all enjoy!!

So It Goes… - Taylor Swift

warnings: soft clarisse my love, protective clarisse we KNOW how i feel abt her…., also slightly possessive clarisse i think i love you too, again clarisse gets a bit too into capture the flag, clarisse picks reader up which i KNOW is not inclusive (im literally plus-sized idk what the hell am i doing) but it was so good i couldn’t resist, she has like super strength probs so i’ll just believe (she literally could not pick me up i need to stop being delusional), swearing, violence, kissing, a bit suggestive but nothing crazy, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

Clarisse’s bed is one of your favorite places. You’ve spent so many nights here, wrapped up in her arms, feeling like no one could touch you. And you’ve spent secret days with her hands on your waist, yours in her hair, lips pressed together so tight it’s like you were each other’s oxygen.

You love Clarisse’s bed. And you know Clarisse loves her bed too, seeing as it’s a huge source of pride for her- it’s the best bunk in the cabin, and she gets a major kick over the fact that you sleep here just as much as you sleep in your own cabin.

You’re sitting down, watching Clarisse pace back and forth, her spear in her hand.

“Clarisse,” you say. She brought you here just fo freak out. Now she won’t sit down and let you help her, and she wont just freaking listen. “Clarisse, baby, what’s wrong? Can you at least put your spear down so you don’t accidentally kill somebody? If you kill me with that I’m gonna come back and kill you.”

She stops for a moment and leans her spear up against the wall. You let out a sigh.

“Now just sit down-”

She resumes her pacing.

As much as you love just being in Clarisse’s presence, as much as you know you’re her rock, the only thing that keeps her tethered in the storm she constantly fights through, you need her to let you help her.

“Clarisse!” you stand up, placing your hands on her shoulders. “You’re freaking me out, okay? What happened? I-I’m sure we can fix it, I mean…” you rub your hands up and down your arms, which you know she likes, her muscles are one of her biggest sources of pride.

She sits down, letting you stand in between her legs, her hands moving to hold your hips.

“Sorry,” she mumbles. She’s not very good at handling her emotions, but she’s getting better, and at least she’s able to recognize and apologize when her emotions are hurting other people. Well, you, at least. She breathes out. “Chiron decided to switch the teams.”

And now she had to work with the Athena cabin? The Gods know after the Ares and Athena cabins have captained opposing teams for years, Chiron pretends there’s not, but everyone knows there’s a deep rivalry. More than just friendly competition.

“The Demeter cabin will be on the red team.”

“Okay,” you say, squeezing her shoulders. You aren’t really close with anyone from the Demeter cabin, it doesn’t really bother you much.

“And… the Aphrodite cabin will be on the blue team.”

“Oh.”

You’ve never not been on Clarisse’s team for capture the flag. Not only does the entire red team’s tactic rest on you using your charmspeak to protect the flag, but what the hell are you supposed to do fighting against Clarisse?

She wraps her arms around your waist, flopping back onto her bed and bringing you down on top of her.

“I know it’s all Annabeth and Luke behind this. I’m sure that little smartass has made up some sick plan to make me go insane.”

You scoff, planting your hands behind her head on the bed. “You’re the one who can actually fight. I’m, like, so bad it’s not even funny, Clar.”

“You beat me all the time,” she frowns.

And it’s true, you spar with her at least 3 or 4 times a week, and you win most of the those times. But Clarisse moves slower, she doesn’t hit as hard, she anticipates your next move and doesn’t block it so you can land a hit.

“We both know you let me win.”

“I like seeing you smile,” she says, her own matching smile on her face.

“Okay, you big romantic.” You let your hands slip, laying your head against her chest and your arms flat around her head. “It’s not that big of a deal, Clar. I’m sure it’ll be fine, then Chiron’ll probably switch them back.”

“Annabeth convinced him to do it. She has some sort of plan, Y/N, she does.”

“You’ve mentioned,” you hum. “Stop stressing. Nothing we can do about it.”

“Fine,” she hisses.

She wraps her arms around your waist and throws you to the side so you yelp, now she’s climbing on top of you, laying her head on your chest.

“It’s going to be the worst game of capture the flag in history, you know. I hope you’re happy, I don’t even know what I’m gonna do without you. I mean, I guess I could move that group in the west side to just south of the flag, so that’ll be a bit more for them to get through. Oh, I’ll stick that one good archer on the ground- no, no that wouldn’t work, I need him in the trees. But I’ll move his position-”

—-

You walk to the woods together. When it’s time to split up, Clarisse grabs you by your armor and points her finger into your chest.

“Clar, what the hell are you doing-”

“Don’t do anything I would do.”

“Okay, Clarisse,” you smile, blinking once to avoid rolling your eyes at her ridiculousness.

She smirks, her arm squeezing your waist. She pecks you on the lips before pulling away completely.

“Done making out?” Jackie asks, her and Tyla suddenly appearing next to you.

“It was one kiss, Jacks. Are you sure we have the same Mom?”

“No, honestly.”

You fall into step with the two of them, laughing as you make your way through the woods and to the edge of the river.

Chiron makes his usual speech, the conch sounds, and everyone starts moving around.

Annabeth finds the three of you soon after. Tyla and Jackie fall away, following your other siblings. Annabeth always has this calculating look on her face, like she knows something you don’t, a true child of Athena. You have to admit, she really is one of the smartest people you know.

“Annabeth,” you smile. “I guess you want me by the flag?”

“No, I debated that, but I decided against it.”

She smirks and looks at you before spinning around, pointing to Luke and his team members who are always in charge of getting the flag.

“You’ll be with Luke.”

You frown. “You do realize I have absolutely no skill in battle, right, Annabeth?”

“Yeah, but skill doesn’t matter when you have power. Power over someone.”

“Oh, okay. Who do you want me to charmspeak-”

“Charmspeak whoever you come across, but that’s not what I’m talking about. You have power over Clarisse. I know she’s defending the flag today, right?”

She looks at you sharply.

You smile. “Oh, I really don’t know. But if you say so, sure.”

She starts walking, you follow her.

“Clarisse doesn’t talk strategy to you? I mean, I talk Luke’s ear off.”

“Oh, no, she does, I just don’t really retain any of it.”

She huffs a small sound of laughter.

“I know she’ll be there,” she affirms.

“If you say so!” you say, all sing song, Luke smiling as he meets your eyes.

“Y/N! How’s it feel to finally be on the winning team?”

“I love being on the red team, thanks for asking.”

“Ha. You’re so funny, are you sure you’re not a child of Apollo?”

“Too beautiful,” you glide your hands down your face. “I get it from my godly mother.”

“Luke, do you know what you’re doing?” Annabeth asks.

“Yes ma’am.”

She smiles and walks away, talking to more people while you can faintly hear Clarisse shouting at people. With the change in tactic, you know she��s been slightly stressed, but she won’t allow herself to feel anything other than confidence, outwardly.

She still walks tall. She still grips her spear in her hand a little to tight. She’s a bit too greedy with the things that are hers, she grabs on a bit too tight, but you know it’s just because she’s scared. You like it.

If this were a regular game, you would probably be walking next to Clarisse right now, or kissing her goodbye while you follow Matty and everyone else to go protect the flag.

When you and Clarisse first started dating, she was slow to be so affectionate, but the more of her walls you started breaking down the more you found a complicated teenage girl who felt unloved, and had a lot of love to give too.

The more confident she became in your private relationship, the more she wanted everyone to know. It was her fatal flaw, pride, hubris. She wanted everyone to know she was yours and your were hers. She wanted everyone to be jealous.

“I’m so glad we don’t have to wear those horrible earplugs today. They always make me worried. Someone could be shouting a few feet away and none of us would hear.”

“Stop gloating, Luke.”

“I’m just expressing my gratitude, Y/N, is that not allowed?”

“I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

“Oh, oh, I know. You’re sad, aren’t you?”

“Sad?” you snort.

“Yeah, sad. Sad you aren’t with Clarisse. You’re devastated, destroyed, wrecked.”

You put your hand on your sword. “Who are you… and what have you done with Luke Castellan? Luke doesn’t know that many words…”

He hits your shoulder. “Shut up, Y/N.”

—-

You’re walking through the woods.

Not sneaking around in stealth, not running, but walking.

You’ve come across a few of your former team members, but one of the blue team just tackles them and you tell them to turn around and count to 5,000.

For some reason, it’s worse than sitting by the rock, waiting for someone to make a play for the flag. At least at the rock you’re surrounded by all these people you know. You and Matty are usually talking, Marjorie sometimes joins, and you all have fun bullying Corey for that one time he didn’t see the blue team coming.

Luke’s voice drops to a whisper.

“Here’s your job. You can either, one, go make out with Clarisse in a corner, which shouldn’t be too hard-”

“Luke,” you hit his shoulder. He hisses.

“I’m joking, joking. Just keep her distracted, fight her, maybe pull your shirt down a bit? Oh, or I can just cut it so it’s a bit more revealing-”

“Luke, shut up or else I will make you.”

“It’s not a bad idea-”

“Luke!”

“Sh, sh,” he whispers. “Don’t be so loud, we’re almost to the flag. We’re going for stealth, okay?”

“Oh, really, I didn’t notice,” you deadpan. He looks around.

“Blue team, stealth mode, alright?”

Everyone nods. You roll your eyes. You miss the red team.

—-

After Luke gives you the ok, meaning the blue team has successfully surrounded the red team and the clearing, you take a step forward.

Annabeth was right. Clarisse is there.

It’s fitting. If you can’t be there, she would.

You look up at Corey, but he hasn’t noticed any of you yet. You frown, thinking about how he’s probably going to get beat up.

“Clarisse!” you shout. You watch everyone jump into defensive positions. She can’t see you yet, but she stares in the direction of your voice, her eyes squinting, smiling softly.

“Luke?” she shouts. “That you?”

You frown.

“What the hell?” you say, stepping forward. “You don’t recognize my voice? I thought that was really smart. Like, a cool way to reveal myself, I don’t know.”

You come into the clearing, sword by your side.

Clarisse’s smile drops.

“I-I- no, baby, I just wasn’t expecting Annabeth to send you here-”

“Do I really sound like Luke?”

“No,” she says, immediately. “You sound like an angel.

Matty laughs. Clarisse stabs his foot with the end of her spear. She smiles at you.

“Is Luke here though?” Marjorie asks, subtly trying to look through the trees.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, you do,” Matty snorts.

“You’re going to tell me though right, baby?” Clar smiles, stepping closer until she’s right in front of you.

“Obviously not, you didn’t recognize me. I’m, like, really hurt by that Clarisse-”

“Gods, Clarisse,” Matty shouts at the sky, laughing. You didn’t recognize her, and now we’re all fucked!”

“Shut the fuck up, Matty,” she says over her shoulder. She looks at you, smiling again, her hand reaching out to touch your face. “I’ll let you do that thing you’ve always wanted to do.”

You smile, your voice dropping to a whisper. “You’ll let me give you a makeover? Really?”

“Yes.” Her teeth grit, but she keeps smiling, her thumb rubbing your cheek.

“Hm, I don’t know,” you mutter, your eyes fixing on her spear when you suddenly reach forward, grabbing it from her hands and turning to run away.

The blue team emerges from the woods with war cries, swords start clashing, and it all happens so fast.

The plan was for you to grab her spear, make her chase you around the woods, and hopefully the blue team would be able to overpower the red team without her.

Instead, Clarisse kicks out her foot, tripping you. Then, she catches you and the spear in what you swear has to be a milisecond.

“Clarisse!” you shout, genuinely offended. She beat you so easily. It wasn’t even a fight. You didn’t even get the chance to run.

“Sorry, baby, it’s capture the flag!”

You about to start kicking like a wild animal when she suddenly lets you go. Luke is there, fighting her while you pick your sword up from the ground that fell in the commotion.

One of your team members dropped their helmet and you pick that up too.

You’re not that bad of a fighter, Clarisse just knows everything about you, you tell yourself. But your pride is slightly wounded and you want to prove to her, yourself, and everyone that you’re not just a weak Aphrodite kid or some poor thing that hangs off Clar’s arm.

You can hold your own.

You stick the helmet on and step into the fight. Someone groans and a sword comes wishing through the air, but you block it.

They swing again.

You block it.

You picked up things from Clarisse, and, besides, you weren’t just sparring for fun. She actually teaches you, better than the actual sword practice teacher if your biased opinion is to be trusted.

But you probably just feel that way because she rewards you with kisses.

It seems like you’re actually winning for a second, about to disarm him, when he seems to get fed up with fighting you and suddenly arcs hard over your head, making you lose your footing and letting him kick you.

You land on your back, groaning and trying to catch your breath.

“That was such a bitchy move,” you mumble. He leans over you, about to kick the sword out of your hand-

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Samuel.”

She holds her spear right under his throat, and he finally seems to look at your face instead of just your blue helmet.

“Shit. Sorry. Sorry, Clarisse, I’m sorry.”

She looks like she’s about to kill him but she just pushes him away.

“I was winning,” you groan. “But then he kicked me.”

She kicks him as he walks away.

You expect her to tug you up and start lecturing you but instead she leans down and throws you over her shoulder.

“Wha- Clarisse!”

“That’s enough for you today,” she says, patting the back of your thigh.

“Clarisse, I swear to Hades, let me down!”

“One second,” she mumbles.

When she places you down on the ground again, you’re leaning against a tree. She grabs your hand, frowning at something.

It’s the smallest cut, barely there, but Clarisse of course acts like it’s the end of the world.

“Does it hurt?”

Your eyes fix on Luke behind her, stalking slowly towards her turned back.

“No, Clar, it’s fine. Now I-”

“I think you should go the nurse.”

Your mouth drops open. “Clarisse, it’s a paper cut!”

“And if it gets infected? Go away, Luke, I can hear you.”

He locks eyes with you but ultimately turns around with a very scared and annoyed look on his face.

“Now do you see why I was all messed up? I knew this was going to happen. You were gonna get hurt, and it was going to be my fault.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s not your fault, Clarisse-”

“But isn’t it? You would have been at the flag if Annabeth hadn’t known how much you mean to me. Instead, you were here. Instead, you were rushing off to go fight someone-”

“I’m not a damsel in distress, Clar!”

She presses her lips together.

“I can fight too. Not as good as you, but I can. I-I don’t want to be weak, I don’t want to rely on you for everything, it’s- it’s embarrassing.”

You didn’t even know you were feeling this way until you felt it. But it’s always been there, you guess. You always watch Clarisse spar and know she could never do anything like that with you. And you thought you were fine with it, and you are fine with having things that you like and things that she likes- but you don’t want to be so useless anymore.

She’s silent for a second.

“I- I get that. I do. But I just don’t know how to tell you I… I love you without showing it. I’m not good at saying it, you know that.”

“Clarisse,” you frown.

She puts her hands on your face.

“You are… the most precious thing in the world to me, Y/N. I really hope you know that.”

You wrap your arms around her neck, you can feel her heart thump from the fight.

“I know that, Clarisse. Of course I know that. You show me every day, I just- I just want to feel like my own person.”

She grips you tighter. “If it’ll make you happy, I’ll teach you to fight. But you have to do it how I say, and you can’t go off and do this-”

You pull back so you can make sure this is real.

“Really?” you smile.

“You have to listen to me, Y/N, and do it slowly, okay-”

“Yes, yes, yes, okay, yes,” you breathe, planting your hands on your face before kissing her. It’s slow, it’s sweet, it’s exactly what you think of when you think of her. You think of the side that’s yours, the side that only you can see.

You break it, leaning down to pick up her spear.

The red team is losing the fight behind you.

“Ok, go win capture the flag. And I’ll stay here. My hand does kinda hurt,” you mumble.

She smiles and kisses your cheek. “Not just a paper cut, huh?”

“Can I still give you a makeover?” you ask as she turns away.

“Maybe!”

—-

y/n: what why did you not recognize me ☹️☹️

clarisse, genuinely terrified: i have no idea what the hell you are talking about please please please don’t take away kissing privileges please please please

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008

(pls ignore it’s for the acc aesthetics thank you!!)

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

2K notes · View notes

hxnbi · 5 months

Text

NOT SO SECRET — inumaki toge

synopsis: you and toge were having a secret rendezvous, far away from all the others, or so you both thought

tags: fluff, gn reader

word count: 1.4k

“Look at him. He’s infatuated....”

Maki sighed, rolling her eyes at the scene happening around the corner between you and Toge—that is, if she could even see anything, as Panda was practically blocking her vision.

Just peering from the bushes she and Panda were hiding from, they could see you two—very explicitly, she might mention, holding hands.

She knew something was afoot when Toge grabbed you by the hand the second you finished your dinner and dragged you somewhere, unbeknownst to her. Their curiosity was piqued, only for the two to find you two, alone, sitting together on a bench, enjoying each other's company in the moonlight.

Or so you two thought.

Cue having Maki and Panda staring at you two with wide-eyed eyes and curious spirits. Well, for Panda, anyway.

Now, they were a reasonable distance away—enough to see you two together but not enough to hear a word, and neither could you guys.

Maki squinted her eyes, trying to decipher what exactly was going on between you and Toge through the dense and overgrown foliage that was Panda’s ass.

Your silhouette was barely discernible against all the bushes blocking her view and the dimming twilight in the sky, but the subtle gestures and hushed whispers from both your and Toge’s figures spoke volumes.

Maki leaned in closer, her curiosity piqued despite her initial reluctance. She could not lie. Seeing Toge this intimate with someone was somewhat unexpected, unsettling even.

“...Don’t you think that Toge’s demeanour is a lot more, different? We’ve never seen this before from him,” she noted, squinting her eyes at the bench you both were still sitting on, now laughing.

“Shush Maki! We’re getting to the good part!”

Maki sweatdropped at how invested Panda was. At this rate, she may as well think that Panda was also included in your guys’ relationship. “Good part, my ass. The hell are we even stalking them for?”

“For reconnaissance,” Panda replied matter-of-factly.

“Well, yeah. They’re definitely close,” she shrugged begrudgingly, her voice hardly even audible. After all, they were stalking you two from behind the bushes. “But dating? I’m not so sure.”

“What else could it be? Look at the way they’re leaning towards each other like they’re sharing some big secret!” Panda leaned his body forward eagerly, eyes wide with excitement. He appeared to be more invested than Maki was, as if this were all some kind of romance drama in real-time.

But Maki, ever being the voice of reason, remained skeptical, her arms crossed tightly against her chest. “Maybe they’re just friends?” she clicked her tongue sarcastically, still in a whisper. “Ever heard of that? We can’t jump to conclusions based on a few stolen glances.”

But the Panda was undeterred. “I doubt it. I believe that there’s definitely something more. I can feel it in my bones!”

“You’re being delusional.”

“Hello, everyone~!” a voice suddenly interrupted their conversation, startling them into silence.

‘Oh god…’

“It’s your good-looking teacher, Gojo Satoru, here to— What are you both doing, hunched down in the bushes like that? Oh no! Don’t tell me you’re now homeless!”

Maki shot her teacher a withering glare, her patience wearing thin with each passing moment.

“Now, what are you doing here, huh, Satoru?”

“So cruel!” he cried out mockingly, but his trademark arrogance and his shit-eating, mischievous grin were on full display. "I was just thinking of checking in on my favourite students, of course. But it seems like I've stumbled upon something much more interesting."

‘...Ugh.’

That’s it. All hope was lost. A lack of privacy did not exist. Not in Jujutsu Tech, where the most unlikely of people—or animals, for that matter—were always watching.

“Honestly, I didn’t think I’d see them here alone again since the last time,” Gojo hummed.

“They’ve been meeting here in this exact spot for the last four days now,” Maki noted. “You think theres something going on that we don’t know about?”

“Well, of course!” Panda said a matter of factly. “Isn’t it clear that they're dating?”

All eyeballs shifted to the scene where they saw Toge holding your hand close to his face, and you leaned on his shoulder. The intimacy between you two was evident even from a distance from where they were watching.

Toge’s fingers brushed past yours before grabbing them firmly, your fingers intertwining with his. Toge's gaze met yours, and a soft smile graced both your lips. A silent exchange of warmth without an onigiri ingredient was said from Toge in sight.

“Oh shit! They’re getting handsy!” Gojo gasped, seeing this happen first-hand.

“Be quiet,” Maki hissed. “You’re loud-ass is going to get us caught.”

“That's right. We’re just getting to the good part!” Panda added with a playful smirk, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle before them. It was comedic, really.

Maki sighed. There really was no reasoning with those idiots…

Gojo bent over to Maki and Panda. “So, are we just waiting for them to make out?”

A tick mark appeared on Maki and Panda’s faces. ‘This guy…’

Just as they were spying on you two, Panda’s hefty weight, along with the shock of Gojo’s surprise appearance, poured over the scene. But their attempt at stealth was quickly foiled as they toppled over each other like a cascade of dominoes, making a loud noise, something that you two very much picked up on in this seemingly quiet space.

Caught off guard, you and Toge stood up and turned towards the commotion, eyebrows raised in surprise, eyes and ears attuned to the noise that had just come unexpectedly from behind where you once sat.

“What the—”

Maki began to sweat. ‘Just great.’

You and Toge, now standing before the toppled mound of bodies, exchanged a puzzled glance, eyebrows raised in surprise, only to be quickly replaced by amusement at the spectacle unfolding before your eyes.

“Salmon salmon.”

“Huh? Maki, Panda, and— Gojo too!?”

Everyone’s necks turned, only to see you and Toge standing before them, holding hands. You and Toge exchanged knowing glances.

“Ahem…” your eyes flushed in embarrassment, your voice faltering as your hand remained enlaced with Toge’s, glued to the moment. “Did you… see everything?”

Caught red-handed, their faces flushed with embarrassment. Well, Maki, mostly. Panda and Gojo could not give a single damn; they were more interested in the fact that you were there.

Finally, they asked the burning question, "Are you and Toge dating?"

They exchanged looks filled with curiosity and anticipation, making you sweat. Their gazes shifted between you and Toge, practically demanding an answer from either of you, clearly not willing to take no for an answer.

There was silence, right before…

“Huh? Oh, yeah, we are.”

“WHAT?!”

“I was right!” Panda started dancing around.

With a tilt of your head, you turned to face the pale blonde, who blinked at you, all with the innocent expression he always had.

“Toge, I thought you said you were going to tell them?”

“Tuna.”

The boy gave you a sheepish expression, Toge’s small muffles speaking through the layered shirt he always wore. You inhaled deeply and continued to hold his hand, tightening your grip. “Don’t worry. I could never get mad at you, Toge. Like, come on, just look at the expressions on their faces. The poor souls.”

‘Huh…?’

Toge's gaze softened at your words as he nodded in agreement. "Salmon roe.”

His expression said it all. It was one of adoration, to be able to hold your hand and spend time with you, that brought him immeasurable joy in his quiet world. One that the others hardly ever saw in the pale-haired boy let alone a mere smile, all but hidden away under his mask, quite literally.

You couldn't help but chuckle softly at his choice of words. You rubbed at his straightened, pale hair, utterly oblivious to the incredulous stares of Maki, Panda, and Gojo.

“Yes, yes, salmon roe,” you replied with a wide grin of your own, feeling a warmth spread fruitfully in your chest as if the three were mere background props in your own quirky sitcom.

As for the second years? Well…

‘Is this supposed to be romantic…?’ they all sweatdropped.

Heaven forbid the words of onigiri ingredients could ever be considered “romantic.”

“Are we… interrupting something personal here?” Panda neared closer to Maki, whispering in her ear, only to receive a punch right in the gullet.

“So, were we the first to learn about your relationship?” Panda sparkled as if they weren’t just interrupting a moment of yours a moment ago, or even that he was just punched. Having a puppy body has its advantages, perhaps.

“Oh,” you blinked. “No. It was Ijichi, actually, a few days ago.”

“SO YOU BOTH WERE GETTING HANDSY!”

“Not really. He walked into the classroom while me and Toge were in the middle of-”

“I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! YOU TWO REALLY WERE MAKING OUT!”

“That’s not it either…”

©hxnbi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.

713 notes · View notes

aemondapologistfrfr · 3 months

Text

Sworn Protector

aegon x sister!wife!reader x the bloody ben we thought we got but we’re delusional 🫠

anniversary gift pt 2 but can be read alone!

Summary: Benjicot Blackwood is Aegon and yours sworn protector. He takes your protection and pleasure very seriously much to Alicent and Viserys dislike.

Warnings: 18+, graphic depiction of murder fr, blood, drinking, swearing, oral(m and f receiving), fingering, public, penetration(p in v), double penetration 🫣😮‍💨, honestly this whole fic is a warning idk what to say!!!!

Authors Note: “look at me, this isn’t you.” moment and honestly good for y/n, fucking the sworn protector is a family tradition apparently 🫣, no bc i’m enjoying writing this problematic throuple too much 🧎🏼‍♀️, i may make one more part idk but it’s set up for that so we shall seeeeee

Word Count: 3.9k

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

I jolt awake as I hear the relentless crack of bone and squelch of blood. Aegon is like a rock next to me refusing to wake or be bothered. I pull on one of his shirts and walk to the door to listen through. Metal slams into flesh repeatedly as I crack open the door and gasp at the scene before me.

“Ben?! Ben stop!” my balance wavers as I rip open the door and see the state of the man beneath him. “Benjicot Blackwood I said that’s enough!” I shout firmly and his bloodied fist halts, hoovering above the mans pulverized face.

“I’m sorry.” Ben turns to look at me as the man’s blood continues to cascade down his face.

Guards rush into the hall and stop abruptly taking in the scene. They look from me to Ben and then down to the unrecognizable body. Some of them put their hands on their sword pommels and before I can think I step in front of Ben protectively.

“Princess go back to your chambers and we will deal with this.” a guard holds his hands out in front of him slowly walking towards me.

“If you come closer to her you will be in the same state as this man here.” Ben spits as he rises and towers behind me.

“Enough,” I hiss out to him. Gods the one time I wish Aegon were actually awake to help me deal with something. “You all will see to it that this mess is cleaned up. Ser Benjicot was simply doing his duty and protecting Aegon and I. I’ll hear no more on this matter at this hour.” my voice unwavering hoping they’ll listen and heed my words.

“What happened that could lead to this?” a guard asks baffled, his face turning queasy.

“I intend to question him myself, along with Aegon, to get to the bottom of this. We shall speak on the morrow.” I toss over my shoulder pushing Ben into our chambers and sealing us shut behind the doors.

“What the fuck?” I push him harshly into open space of our chambers. “What the fuck was that?” I ask again throwing my hands in the air at a loss for words.

Ben says nothing and takes a seat in a chair as I fill up a glass with wine. I begin to light some candles around our chambers as it’s still hours before sunrise. I take a long sip and exhale deeply. I walk over to the bed and shake Aegon a little more roughly than needed.

“What is it?” Aegon pushes me off of him and rolls over.

“Get up. We have a situation.” I grit out through my teeth. “Ben just slaughtered a man outside of our chambers and I don’t know what to do.” Aegons eyes shoot open.

“What are you talking about?” he sits up and his eyes bulge as they land on Ben’s bloody face. “What the fuck?”

“Hey.” Ben smiles and offers us a small wave.

“What happened?” Aegon rises out of bed completely nude and takes a seat in a chair near Ben.

I refill my glass while pouring them each a cup of wine and bring it to them. I claim the couch and spread out. I cross my legs and take a sip of wine as I look to Ben expectantly for him to begin telling his story.

“Some cunt from the servant staff was walking the halls with his little cunt friends,” Ben’s voice starts to rise. “He started saying all it took to become the new sworn protector was to fuck you. He said he planned to walk into your chambers and take you as you were while Aegon slept beside you.” I can feel the rage radiating off of him in palpable waves.

“So you killed him? Brutally?” Aegon raises his eyebrows shaking his head in disbelief yet a smile begins to form on his lips.

“Yes.” Ben says nodding as if nothing is wrong with that answer

“Well at least we know you do a thorough job.” Aegon shrugs and sips his wine. “Shall we call you our sworn executioner now?” he smirks walking to the bathing chambers.

“Come, let us clean you up.” I hum offering Ben my hand.

Ben looks up to me as he grabs my hand. His gaze never leaves mine as he places a soft kiss on my forehead. I lead us over to Aegon who has a basin of water and a clean cloth. We have Ben sit as we begin to remove his bloody armor.

“Thank you for protecting me in the halls, although, it shouldn’t have come to that.” Ben looks to me as I begin wiping off his face.

“We all protect each other.” Aegon adds as he removes the last piece of Ben’s armor. “Truth be told, this will most likely be blamed on us anyway.” Aegons eyes look to mine.

“As long as Ben can stay I care not.” I say shrugging as I try to wipe dried blood off his brow.

“Agreed.” Aegon hums bringing a clean cloth to Ben’s neck to start wiping the blood from there.

We finish cleaning Ben in silence as he stares at the both of us with devotion. The pile of bloody armor is moved to the bath so it can be washed in the morning. Our hands begin to slowly undress Ben and lead him over to our bed.

“Thank you for protecting my wife.” Aegon hums helping Ben lay back on the bed. “Let me reward you.” his smile is devilish as he slowly begins to remove Ben’s underwear.

Once freed Ben’s cock bounces against his lower stomach as he stares at us with low lids. Aegon nestles himself between Ben’s thighs as I cuddle into Ben’s side. I turn Ben’s head to face mine and capture his lips into a heated kiss. Ben groans deeply into my mouth as Aegon licks him from base to tip.

“Shh, shh,” I whisper as I trail kisses down his jaw.

Aegon takes Ben fully in his mouth, accepting every inch until he reaches the base. Aegon begins to lift his head leaving trails of spit coating his member. Ben lets out a strangled whimper as Aegon brings his hand up to his balls.

“Fuck, my Prince.” Ben rasps as one of his hands tangles in Aegons hair.

Aegon chuckles around Ben as his hips begin to jerk. Aegon uses both of his hands to push Ben’s hips into the bed and shower him with the pleasure of his mouth. I start to kiss and suck on Ben’s neck as our names fall from his lips like a prayer.

“Come for us.” I murmur against his neck before I bite down on his pulse point.

A low groan spills from Ben’s mouth as his hips twitch as he begins to fill Aegons throat. Aegon licks every drop that Ben has to offer him. He continues offering small licks as Ben’s thighs begin to shake.

“My prince,” Ben groans pulling Aegon off of him by his hair.

Aegon chuckles lowly as he crawls up Ben’s body and claims his lips for his own. Aegon releases Ben and turns to me to ensnare me. I sigh into Aegons mouth as I taste Ben. We slowly pull apart and all cuddle into each other on the spacious bed.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

My eyes flutter open as the morning light peeks through our windows. I untangle myself from Ben and Aegon and softly pad over to the doors. I poke my head out to ask a guard to have a servant bring up some fresh water and cloths.

The supplies are brought to me with haste along with a letter for the three of us to hold an audience with the King and Queen once we dress. I bring the supplies into the bathing chambers and begin to clean off Ben’s bloody armor. The bath water has turned a deep burgundy and I sigh when I see that it’s also crusted under my nails.

“You don’t have to clean up after me.” Ben whispers to me as I jump at his voice.

“Am I not ceaselessly cleaning up after the both of you?” I raise my eyebrow as a smile spreads across my face.

Aegon begins to stir from the bed and sits up pouting at being left alone. He gets up and joins us in the bathing chambers and I tell them about the note I received. We all slowly pull our clothes on and Aegon and I help Ben put his armor back on.

Upon opening the door we’re greeted with the stain that has been left from last nights events. We walk past silently and flow down down the steps. As we turn the corner we can see Viserys atop the throne looking less than pleased.

“I’m far too sober for this.” Aegon whispers in my ear.

“Hush,” I elbow him in the side.

“Your Grace.” Ben says bowing deeply.

“Who cares to tell me what happened last night?” Viserys voice is rough as he looks to all three of us.

“A man was heard loudly speaking in the halls of how it was his plan to come into our chambers to rape and harm me. Ser Benjicot was simply protecting me from those events occurring.” I offer hoping my somewhat thought out words will distract them from the brazen violence that followed.

“So you took his life? We have dungeons for a reason boy.” Viserys voice carries throughout the empty hall as he looks to Ben.

“I-“ Ben starts.

“Is it not his job to protect me and Aegon? By whatever means necessary?” I challenge Viserys as my voice rises to meet his.

“Daughter, I’m not mad that he protected you, I’m mad that there’s stain on the stone reminding us of the brutality.” Viserys eyes narrow on me.

“Gods save us! There’s a stain on the stone.” Aegon brings a hand to his forehead rolling his eyes.

“Aegon.” Alicent warns staring daggers at him.

“You three already cause me enough rumors and whispers throughout court. If you’re going to kill someone for my daughter at least make sure there’s no one to witness it.” Viserys relents shaking his head looking to Ben. “All three of you leave the Keep, I do not wish to see you for the rest of the day.” he waves his hand at us in dismissal.

Ben takes us past the guard quarters so he can remove his armor before we leave for the day. We linger on the front steps not really having an idea of where to go. I suggest we claim an empty villa in the gardens and have drinks and food catered to us.

“Excellent idea, my love.” Aegon claps his hands together. “And where are the gardens again?” he clears his throat.

“This way.” I roll my eyes and lead us.

I find us a villa surprisingly quick and servants are upon us in moments. We order many bottle and ask for them to close the billowy curtains around us for extra privacy. We have an intimate table at the entrance and a couple of couches and chairs tucked away in the back.

“Why didn’t I know about this place sooner?” Aegon relaxes back into his chair with his glass.

“Because you wouldn’t appreciate it as the sanctuary that it is.” I hum as I take a sip of the sweet wine.

“I’m sorry about last night.” Ben breathes out looking to us.

“Don’t be.” Aegon scrunches his brows.

“My actions just made your father kick us out of the Keep for the day.” he clenches his fists angry with himself.

“Fuck the Red Keep.” I shrug my shoulders with a smile.

“Fuck the Red Keep.” Aegon raises his glass to me and we look to Ben expectantly.

“Fuck the Red Keep.” Ben sighs raising his glass.

“You don’t have this position just because you fuck me. You are a brave knight who understands us but loves and protects us anyway.” I say grabbing his hand with an appreciative smile.

“Our father is basically a walking corpse. By the time we stumble into the Keep later he’ll probably forget all about it.” Aegon offers with a lopsided smile.

“And we can forget all about it right now.” I drain my cup and go to refill it.

We sit and drink and let Ben vent for a while listening intently to him. More drinks are brought to us along with lunch and we leisurely graze. The air starts to get warmer and we all shed out of our first layer of clothing leaving us absolutely indecent.

“Up on the table. I want to write my apology with my tongue.” Ben turns to me with low lids as his words go straight to my core.

He moves our glasses and bottles then turns to me expectantly. I slowly rise out of the chair on shaky legs, giggling as the wine rushes to my head. Ben stands grabbing my waist and placing me on the table. He claims his seat once more and pulls me closer by my hips causing my silk slip to bunch around my waist.

“Finally we have some good food.” Aegon chuckles lowly as Ben starts to dip his head down.

Ben places a soft kiss on my wet center sending a shiver through my body. He trails his tongue along my slit making my breath catch in my throat. A breathy sigh escapes my lips as he pulls back to place small kisses on my inner thighs.

“Ben,” his name seeps out of my mouth as he playfully bites down on my tender flesh.

He props my legs on his shoulders and finally brings his torturous mouth to my core. His main focus becomes my clit and at the rapid pace his tongue is moving I would believe that he’s truly writing his apology. A cry erupts from my throat as he slides two fingers into me.

“You guys are so hot.” Aegon groans.

My eyes follow Aegons voice and our eyes lock. My eyes roll back as Ben starts to curl his fingers. Once my vision returns Aegon is hovering over the table and claims my lips. I squeak out in surprise as wine trickles out the sides of our mouth as Aegon brought some with to the kiss. I get lost in the taste of Aegon and the wine as my hips begin grinding onto Ben’s face.

Ben’s rhythm never falters as he begins to pump his fingers faster. Aegon releases my mouth and I let out a loud moan as Ben starts with a third finger. One of my hands buries itself in Ben’s hair and he grunts as I pull. Moans fall from my mouth like a symphony as my orgasm slams through my body washing me in pleasure.

Ben continues with his tongue and fingers while pulling my hips even closer to his face. My whole upper body is arching off the table as he continues his assault. Aegon brings his mouth back to mine to try and hide the whimpers and moans that have been pouring from my mouth.

“Quiet down before I shove my cock in your mouth to silence you.” Aegon says hoovering above my lips.

I come hard squeezing my legs shut around Ben’s head and sobbing into Aegons mouth. Ben offers small licks that continue to send jolts through my body. He finally detaches himself from me and looks up to me with a wet face.

Ben removes both of my legs slowly offering kisses down each until they’re hanging off the table. Aegon grabs my ankle and pulls me over to him. I slide across the table giggling as I stop in front of Aegon.

“I think I would like a taste too.” he hums before bringing his mouth to my over sensitive core.

“Aegon fuck,” I breathlessly pant as his tongue laps at me.

I fall back onto the table with a thud as his tongue zeros in on my clit. My body is trembling with pleasure at every swirl of his tongue. Ben captures my lips in a kiss and swallows all of my whimpers. My hips rise off of the table as I explode all over Aegons tongue.

“Fuck, please,” I whine voice cracking as he continues with his mouth.

“You can give him one more on the table.” Ben coos to me as he pushes my slip the rest of the way up.

Once I’m fully exposed on the table Ben wastes no time reaching for my breasts. His fingers are quick to start pinching and pulling my nipples. Both of their names fill the space between the pants that tumble from my mouth.

“Aegon, I- I, fuck Ben,” a sob tears through me as I come across Aegons tongue again.

“Mm, such a good girl for us.” Ben whispers smoothing my hair.

Aegon removes himself to sit up and take in my disheveled state. My breathing is ragged as my chest rises and falls. Ben slowly pulls my slip back down and they shower my body with kisses offering me words of praise.

“Come, let’s go lay on the couches with some wine.” Ben offers me his hand as Aegon gathers the bottles and cups.

As I hop off the table my legs threaten to give out underneath me. I giggle as Ben’s hands rush to my forearms to help steady me. We all collapse onto the couch which is more of the size of a bed thankfully for us. Aegon hands us our cups filled anew and we all sip in silence.

The wine helps me calm my breathing as I sink back into the couch between the two of them. They both have hands grasped on my thighs rubbing soothing patterns and squeezing softly.

“I wanna fuck you.” Ben’s breath fans across my neck as he trails kisses up my jaw.

“Please Ben,” I whine as his hand travels under my slip to wet core.

“Get on your stomach. Head in Aegons lap.” he nods his head standing up to tower above us.

I slowly start to turn over and place my head on Aegons thighs and raise my ass into the air. I feel the day bed dip behind me and turn my head to look up at Aegon who is smirking down at me. Ben’s hands go to my hips and lift them up to meet his. His tip swirls around in my wetness and glides against my clit causing me to gasp.

“You ready?” Ben asks breathlessly trailing a hand down my spine.

“Yes,” I mewl as I rock my hips back.

He slowly slides every inch into me as I bury my head in Aegons lap. Once his hips are flush against my ass I sigh pushing it back into him seeking more friction. He pulls out and slams back into me almost sliding me across Aegons legs. Both of his hands grab my hips roughly as he starts pounding into me.

Moans keep pouring from my mouth has his hips repeatedly snap into mine. My hands are gripping Aegons thighs as my nails bite into him. I rest my head on his thigh and get lost in my pleasure as Ben continues with no end in sight.

“Keep her quiet.” Ben looks to Aegon as a particularly loud moan falls from my lips.

Aegon is quick to slide his underwear down and free his cock. He wastes no time trailing it along my parted lips. I let my tongue fall out of my mouth and press into his hardened length. Aegon groans and begins to push himself inside my mouth.

“Taking us both so well.” Aegon groans moving my hair to the side so he can watch.

I begin to sloppily bob my head as spit trails out from the sides of my mouth. I groan around Aegon as Ben lifts my hips a little higher to reach a new angle. Tears are streaming down my cheeks as Aegon sets a pace of his own.

Aegon and Ben find a rhythm where when pulls out the other is pushing in. My body is shaking from the amount of pleasure I’m receiving and I let out a harsh sob when Aegons sneaking fingers find my abandoned clit.

“Fuck, squeezing me so good.” Ben pants as his hips begin to falter before he finds a new rhythm.

Aegon shoots down my throat without warning and it begins to spill out the side of my mouth. He pulls out panting and stokes my jaw affectionately. Ben’s hands travel up my spine before wrapping around my front. He pulls me up flush against his chest and begins driving his cock up into me. He wraps a hand around my throat and turns my head to look back at him.

“Beautiful.” Ben whispers as his mouth attaches to mine.

Aegons come mixes with saliva trailing down mine and Ben’s face. His hand applies soft pressure and I kiss him even harder. I whine into Ben’s mouth as I feel Aegons traitorous tongue begin to softly lick at my clit. Ben and I break away from the kiss and gaze down at Aegon. Ben and I both come as we look upon him under us.

We all slowly pull apart and fall back onto the bed, breathing ragged. Aegon takes a sip of wine and passes the cup to us. We all look thoroughly ruined as we lounge back into the couch.

“Someone has to call a servant for more wine.” Aegon sighs as he picks up the empty bottles.

“You’re already up.” I roll my eyes. “Wait! Put some fucking pants on before you scar the staff.” I shout at him before he opens the curtains.

“As if your moans didn’t do that already.” Aegon tosses over his shoulder as he slips back into his trousers.

Aegon breezes out of the villa and Ben tucks me into his side. He kisses me lazily as his fingers stroke my cheek. We pull apart when Aegon returns with more bottles and candles as the sun is beginning to set.

We continue drinking late into the night and then start to pull our clothes on to make our way back to the Keep. We stumble in the main doors giggling and hanging off of each other. As we make it up the stairs Alicent is standing in front of our chambers with a scrunched brow.

“All of you get to bed. Now.” she says through her teeth. “We will discuss your actions in the garden on the morrow when, Gods hoping, you all will be sober.” she looks to us with disgust and swishes back to her chambers.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

masterlist

#bloody ben smut #bloody ben x reader #benjicot blackwood #benjicot x reader #benjicot blackwood x reader #aegon ii smut #aegon smut #aegon x reader #aegon x reader x ben #hotd imagine #hotd fic #hotd smut #x reader #x reader smut #viserys targaryen #alicent hightower

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strawbeerossi · 1 year

Text

Grading Papers

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: You are Dr. Reid’s TA. One night, he asks you to stay late and help grade papers, only to see you worked up. It’s a good thing he has the perfect solution for that.

Content/Warnings: Power imbalance, age gap (20s/40s), sexual tension, thigh riding, praise.

Word Count: 1.2K

Kinktober Day Twelve: Thigh Riding

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

Whenever Dr. Reid had approached you about staying a little later after your class to assist him in grading papers, you reluctantly agreed. It wasn’t like you were uncomfortable with him, in fact it was the complete opposite. Ever since you’d been placed as a TA for his class, you had a massive crush on the older man. Every person in your class did, honestly. There was a reason he had the most students auditing his classes, he was very attractive and his dumbfounded reaction to learning so many students used the class just to look at him just added to his charming demeanor.

He was an understanding man, always willing to listen and work with any student who needed his assistance. It didn’t help that he had a million dollar smile, one that made your heart flutter when it was flashed in your direction. You were in love with a man who was surely old enough to be your father.. Yet you felt no shame.

You’d had vivid fantasies, ones where Spencer would call you in his office and push you against the wall, taking you right there while proclaiming how he’d had his eye on you since he met you.

You could admit you were a little delusional but nobody could blame you. Who doesn’t want professor Reid to bend them over his desk and-

You were cut off by a throat clear, making you snap out of your thoughts. “It’s good to see you, thank you for coming by. I appreciate you coming to assist me tonight.” He could’ve done it by himself, in all honesty. The papers were quick and easy to blow through, especially with the ability that Spencer had when it came to reading. Instead, he’d invited you here for something else..

“Oh, it was no problem. I didn’t have much else that needed to get done and it is my job to help you when you need it.” You spoke while offering a smile, discarding your backpack before putting it on the floor by his desk. “I’m so glad to hear that. I went ahead and split up the assignments equally.” He assured while passing over a stack of typed up research papers. “I have a chair over here that you can take. My desk is big enough to fit both of us.” He chuckled and gestured to the chair pulled up beside him.

The idea of being so close to Spencer had your cheeks heating up, head nodding as you approached his side and pulled out the chair to seat yourself. It was like you were a horny teenager who was getting worked up just by having your knee touch his, the warmth of your body and the tension bubbling over. “You alright?” Spencer soon asked, an eyebrow raising at how fidgety you were. He was a profiler and you knew that, you’d learned he could see all the tells and read you like a book if he really wanted to. Still, you lied. “Oh! I think I’m just a little scatterbrained tonight.” You tried to save yourself the embarrassment of telling the older man your perverted and sinful thoughts.

There was a huff that fell from Spencer’s lips, his hands coming out to gently grab your hips before tugging you into his lap. The sudden action had your eyes widening, propped up in the male’s lap as you quickly turned your head to look at him. “Dr. Reid!” Your voice came out in a squeak, making the man shrug his shoulders nonchalantly. “You’re free to get up but given your body language, I can tell this is much more than being scatterbrained. Believe me, I know the signs of someone being turned on. As much as most won’t believe it, I’ve been around enough women to know the signs.”

He was chuckling as he brushed your hair off of your shoulder when you made no effort to move. “I have an offer to make. Don’t worry, you won’t be penalized for saying no, I’ll just back off.” He had to preface his point of not wanting to push things too far beyond your comfort zone. The idea was crazy, the man could lose his license to teach and be blacklisted from teaching. However, you felt just a little desperate. That was what made you nod your head slowly. “Y-yeah, okay.”

His large hands were resting against your hips while helping you stand, his hands moving to your pants to get them unbuttoned and tugged down your legs. “You seem so desperate. I bet you think about this a lot more than you’re letting on.” His tone was like velvet, his gaze on the panties that hugged your waist.

“How desperate are you though?” The question made you shiver as his hands were ever so gently lifting you up before perching you on his thigh with a soft smirk. This was him expecting you to crumble, to melt while rubbing yourself on his thigh..

You fed right into it, hips rocking steadily against the clothed thigh. The friction of the creases in his slacks against your clothed clit had electricity shooting through your body, mouth agape. “There we go. Does that feel good? Desperate little bunny.” He cooed, his hands guiding your hips as he was fixing the position of his thigh and pushing it up to apply pressure to your needy pussy. “Surprised you’ve lasted this long. You know, you aren’t exactly subtle with the way you look at me.”

Your face was heating up as he’d caught you, calling you out on your shameless fantasizing whenever you thought he wasn’t paying attention. “You’re so precious.” He began while chuckling softly, his words making your hips speed up on his thigh as you were rubbing your cunt along the creases of his pants, the delicious friction making you roughly grip his thigh.

“Gonna cum on my thigh and soak your panties with your cum?” He questioned, lips now pressing kisses along your shoulder. “Fuck, yes.” You whined, the slick arousal from your panties already seeping through and causing a small wet patch on his right thigh. “Well, what are you waiting for? These papers aren’t gonna grade themselves.” He mused, words dripping with amusement at you, one of his best TAs, left to a whining and whimpering mess while your desperation had you humping his thigh for relief.

The warmth spread over your body, a thin veil of sweat decorating your forehead as you let your head tilt forward, mouth agape while ragged breaths escaped your lips. The rush of arousal shot through your body, nails digging into the part of his thigh that you held as you were hitting your peak, a whine leaving your lips as you could feel the slick seep through your panties, leaving you with uncomfortably wet panties.

“There we go!” He cooed, gently rubbing your lower back as he was letting your shaking body lean back against his broad chest. “You can sit there as long as you want,” He commented with a chuckle as he was scooting his chair up to the desk while he was getting a few papers from his desk to read them.

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cupidvision · 3 months

Text

𝒑𝒂𝒄- 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒇𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆

about this pac: this will tell you what your future child is going to be like. it was meant to be for babies, but i got more teenager energy from this!

—> how to choose? close your eyes, clear your mind, and open your intuition. then think about the numbers, the images, the feeling they gives you. then choose 💗

banners by @fairytopea @princessantisocial @dollywons @h-aewo

1->2

3->4

pile 1

signs: 3, 1, 16, cancer, earth sign, water signs, chaotic energy

3 of cups reversed, page of pentacles reversed, ace of cups, the tower

so your child is going to definitely be a wild child. they love partying, following the crowd, and may struggle with independence. they may also be a little ungrateful at times, or just act as if they are ungrateful. i’m seeing though, they have a lot of love and compassion on their heart, they just might struggle with being around people who also portray that. i’m seeing that the age i’m talking about is their teenage years, so 13-18. but i am seeing as a child they were full of love, feelings, creativity, intuition, etc. as they got older though, that changed. they could be going through a harsh wake up call during that time in their life, or i’m seeing that they’ll go from a sweet loving child to suddenly a rebel

other things about this child: feminine energy, light brunette, straight hair, beauty, 5’7

pile 2

signs: 6,7, 21, pisces, aquarius, gemini, scorpio, saturn, smarty pants, positive energy

king of cups, the lovers, the world, 7 of cups

the first thing i heard in my head was “smarty pants” so they may be good in school or just very smart in general. one thing is for sure, they are emotionally intelligent, empathetic, and they like having things in their life organized or under control. they’re easy to get along with, they’re not a problem child, or a child you will have to worry about. they may have a lot of love in their heart as well and when they’re grown, i’m seeing they will definitely be partner and marriage material. they will accomplish many things in life, they may also love going on trips with you. they are someone who would like to know their purpose, and someone who is driven to figure out their purpose

other things about this child: masculine, blonde hair, short haircut, taller (5’8-5’9)

pile 3

signs: 2,5,4, scorpio, taurus, gemini, aries, the moon, mental issues

the high priestesses, 5 of cups, king of swords, 4 ot wands reversed

the first things i thought is that this child could possibly have issues. specifically mental illness. with the 5 of cups being here, this often represents, failure, pessimism, grief, etc. they might suffer from depression, or anxiety. feelings that they’re not enough. as well as 4 of wands in reversed being here, feeling like you don’t have a home and struggling to communicate. so if or when you ask them what’s wrong, they can have a hard time communicating what their feeling and thinking. with that being said, this child actually has amazing qualities about them. they’re morally correct, have a good intuition, and are highly acknowledgeable. they’re also a honest person, who’s logical and quite disciplined

other things about this child: masculine, longer nails, darker hair, wears hoodies or clothes that cover their body, serious resting face

pile 4

signs: 7, 3, 20, scorpio, leo, virgo, cancer, pluto, excitable

7 of cups, king of pentacles reversed, 3 of cups reversed, judgement

i’m seeing that this child is quite imaginative, and might be a little delusional. they also have a problem with over indulging in things. so when they pick up a habit, it’s not just a little habit, it’s that habit to it’s most extreme extent. they may also like partying, but might feel alone deep down. they could be stubborn as well. they can also be greedy and can care a lot about what their peers think. they also have to keep up with the fashion trends, and they also need to seem like they’re rich, etc. status means a lot to them, i’m seeing that they will have a rude awakening to this behavior though. so, this period of “i need to be like my peers” is temporary and not an issue they will always struggle with. i’m seeing that they might’ve tarnished their reputation with you as a parent, but they will work for a redemption and will want forgiveness. i’m also seeing they could be a very forgiving person after this awakening

other things about this child: feminine energy, long hair, darker colored hair, average height (5’4-5’6)

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ham1lton · 5 months

Text

another day, another drama.

pairing: lando norris x fellow driver’s sister!reader.

summary: the one where you think o/s is hiding something from you, so with the help of your boyfriend and his friends, you try to figure it out. too bad you find more than you bargained for.

author’s note: part of the nepo sister universe. i fear we might be coming to the end of the nsu soon…. also there is a poll at the end, help a struggling writer out and vote pls mwah.

— part one | part two (coming soon).

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liked by oldersistersbff, yourbff and 287,737 others.

yourusername: just saw these pics of my bf and burst into tears. fuck f1 for taking my bf and my sister away from me….

oscarpiastri: ur welcome ☺️

-> yourusername: SICK SICK MAN!!!! 😒😒

user1: not u acting like a war widow 😭

-> yourusername: my husband (boyfriend) has been taken as a prisoner of war (forced to do his job) thousands of miles away (no this part is actually real).

user9: i’m new to this. are they lovers?

-> user8: worse.

*liked by oscarpiastri.*

formula1: we apologise yourusername! but you’ll see him soon we promise! :)

-> yourusername: RETURN MY BF IMMEDIATELY….

-> user5: girl what about your sister??

-> yourusername: she’ll be fine 😘

user6: girl um did u see ur sister’s newest interview???

-> yourusername: no??!! BRB!

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liked by zendaya, simonebiles and 3,288,728 others.

vogue: the paddock’s princess came to talk to us about being our newest cover girl, winning her most recent championship, going viral, her love life and what her favourite smoothie combination is.

user3: shes so cute 🥺🥺

user1: o/s has been notoriously single since her breakup with paul like five years ago… why is she giggling and smiling when asked about a man???

-> user2: no i noticed that… omg is she seeing someone?

user7: face card never declines!

user4: when gav told her that she’d won and the first thing she did when she left the car was hug him and cry??? she’s so cute. i’m so glad i live in the y/n domination era.

-> user5: the edits with that video are sick… o/s is keeping the tiktok editors in business.

-> user9: have you seen the ones about her and lando to the song lacy??? INSANE…

-> user5: DM ME RN

user31: her saying she doesn’t ever want to be defined by her wins and rather by who she is a person. we love a charitable queen!

yourusername: love life… hmmm….

-> user4: oh no….. she’s plotting 😭

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liked by oldersistersbff, user72 and 2,833,617 others.

oldersister: family reunion.

yourusername: no credits for the pics??

-> oldersister: no. you take enough credit from my card.

-> yourusername: … fair.

user1: she’s deadass married wth.

-> user6: family reunion out of nowhere? talking about her love life suddenly after years of not even having one? photographed with two separate men?? shopping with o/s/bff in a bridal boutique and cordoning off the area?? it’s adding up sis ur not even delusional for this one….

user9: WHO’S UR MAN @/oldersister

user5: stop with the married jokes y’all…. i can’t lose my queen to some MAN….

user3: are you planning on changing ur surname from l/n.

-> oldersister: never.

-> user16: oh so you do see these comments…

————————————————————————

SPYING TRANSCRIPT - THURSDAY, 6PM.

- written by LANDO NORRIS, for his boss Y/N L/N.

LANDO NORRIS - i think she’s dating carlos. i’m putting my cards out there.

OSCAR PIASTRI - put your cards back. no way that’d happen. i think she’s dating someone else. look at these photos. that guy isn’t carlos.

DANIEL RICCARDO - just tell y/n she’s dating me and we can all go to sleep. i mean look at my incredible good looks, it would be sacrilegious to not want me.

PIASTRI - if she was gonna go for the hottest driver on the grid she’d go for lewis or charles.

CHARLES LECLERC - oh thank you oscar! very nice.

NORRIS - you’re moving away from the point. wait… is someone knocking on the door?

(everyone looks at each other concerned)

RICCIARDO - oh i ordered pizza. i forgot. my bad!

LECLERC - how about her dating another athlete? someone who understands this life but won’t affect her position here.

NORRIS - smart… what athlete has she been seen with recently?

PIASTRI - according to social media, simone biles?

NORRIS - isn’t she married? nah, who else.

RICCIARDO - she was telling me the other day that she went to the psg game. i asked her why and she said she had a friend who played for them.

LECLERC - kylian mbappé? that makes a lot of sense actually….

NORRIS - do you feel a kin to him? i mean, you’re both frenchmen after all.

(OSCAR PIASTRI would like the transcript to include the following: — after this, charles hit lando. i laughed.)

PIASTRI - it could be that this is all a big misunderstanding. she could have been shopping for a bridesmaid dress. why would she get married and not tell her sister who she’s incredibly close to? that makes no sense to me.

RICCIARDO - anyways….

NORRIS - what about leonardo dicaprio!

LECLERC - she is under 25….

————————————————————————

taglist: @23victoria @luckyladycreator2 @mxdi0 @booksandflowrs @charlesleclercsonlywife @casperlikej @nichmeddar @decafmickey @evie-119 @ironmaiden1313 @d3kstar @blupblupfish @demvnsriot @raevyng @namgification (don’t see yourself or wanna be removed? send an ask!)

— don’t wanna miss an update? join my taglist!

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xzaddyzanakinx · 6 months

Text

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Six: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, NONCON (somno), mask kink (Ghostface), sex toys, knife, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, forced oral, forced orgasm, drugging [Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin is such a good 👻 even without all the stabbing. He’s getting cocky with us. Some bitch tries to flirt.[diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: July 12th

I feel alittle bit bad… but not really, for lying to you. I don’t actually have work tonight. It just seemed like the most logical thing to say you know? So… apologies baby, that wasn’t very nice of me.

To make up for the lie I was about to tell you, I slipped a pair of your panties from your laundry basket, you were awfully dazed after I used that little line I stole from one of your books. It was really, really cute how you fawned like that. Those big beautiful doe eyes looking up at me like I’d just told you that you won the lottery.

I guess you kind of did, or at least my version of it. I had a lot planned for you tonight and tomorrow night. You’re getting your reward and then some.

So with your pretty little lacy panties in my pocket I went upstairs and immediately got to work. Now, I know this probably sounds just a smidgen gross but I promise I’ve tried it out on some of my own clothes until I got it right. You won’t even notice.

It’ll be just like your pillow okay? That small, harmless piece of me helps you sleep at night and, well, I want you to feel that secure all the time. No matter where you are. I want you to have a piece of me.

So, you know that strange little extra bit of fabric in the crotch of all your panties? That no one really knows the purpose of? Well I’ve discovered the perfect purpose.

With a small flat paint brush I’m going to dot my cum along the seam on the inside of that pocket.

Like I said, I’ve tried it out. You won’t even notice, it won’t get all crusty and gross like you might think okay? It’ll only be alittle teeny, tiny, bit of it.

So, I’ve tested it on my things, but not yours. I didn’t want to test it on the dirty pairs I’d borrowed from you because well… those are mine and they won’t be going back into your drawer. Ever.

That’s why I snatched up this pair. To test it on the real thing. And when I tell you this is the best idea I’ve had in a while I mean it. It’s perfect. I’ve already got everything set up.

Those dirty panties are really gonna help me out while I pump my cum out into your favorite new coffee mug.

The second you leave for work I’m headed over there to carefully apply my love to every pair of undies you’ve got. I just know how much you enjoy it, I mean you only ever use the pillow I keep fucking, so I’m doing something right… right?

You little freak. Needing my cum in your panties so you can feel safe and comfy even without me there to hold your hand. We’re not quite there yet and that’s okay, because we have these subtle ways of loving each other don’t we?

Date: July 12th

If the little bell above the door chimes *one more time* and it’s not Anakin, you might scream. It’s 7:20, doesn’t he have to clock-in at 8:00ish? What if he didn’t actually mean it? Was he just being nice? Have you read this situation completely wrong? Have you-

**ting-ting-ting**

You could’ve gotten whiplash from the speed at which you swiveled your head toward the entryway. A flood of relief rushed over you when you saw the familiar bright face that belonged to your dreamy eyed neighbor.

“Hey sweetheart.” He said, his voice low and smooth. He didn’t hide the way he drank in your appearance, or at least what was visible behind the counter.

“Anakin!” You squeaked, blush dusting across the bridge of your nose.

“What’s a guy gotta do for a slice of butterscotch pie?” He crooned, hopping up on the red and chrome barstool nearest to you.

“Say please.” You smirked.

“Please princess, may I have a slice of pie?” He grinned.

You produced a pre-cut slice in a small to-go container from the icebox behind the counter. Sliding it across the counter to him with a fork laid across the top, you missed the small frown on his lips when you were startled by the bell again.

“Sorry. I’ll be right back.” You said hurriedly.

You rushed to the booth where an older man, one of your regulars, slid into place. He always ordered the same thing. Coffee and the daily special, so you were back in front of Anakin in no time at all.

“Hi.” You smiled, letting out a rushed breath.

“Hey sweetheart.” He said, his eyes soft and warm. “Tryin’ to get rid of me already?” He teased, tapping the to-go box with the fork.

“What? N-no of you course not.” You shook your head vehemently. “No, I just wasn’t sure if you were coming and I thought-“

“Wait,” he stopped you, plucking the pen that was still tightly gripped in your palm and replacing it with his fingers. “You thought I wasn’t coming?” He asked.

He looked hurt, deeply hurt, at the notion that you would think he would miss a single second of being in your presence. His hand cradled yours in the way that gentleman in movies held the hands of women they fancied, right before they bring their knuckles to their lips for a kiss.

“Well, it’s just- it was later than I thought.” You said anxiously, feeling silly that you’d doubted him, beginning to quickly over explain yourself. “I just know you’ve gotta be at work at 8:00 or something and I was worried you were running late and wouldn’t make it and I was gonna take it home to give you tomorrow or…”

You stopped, seeing a big grin gracing his pretty face.

“Shh, s’alright darlin’.” He chuckled, “take a breath.”

You blushed, how does he always make you so flustered? He must think you need coddling. Maybe that’s why he’s so sweet to you. He’s seen how utterly hopeless you are and he just feels the need to coddle you.

“Sorry.” You said quietly.

“Baby, look up here.” He commanded in a gentle but firm voice, snapping his fingers twice and you immediately met his gaze. “Atta girl.”

“Now listen to me.” He said softly. “Don’t you ever doubt that I will show up for you. Okay? I’m a man of my word, always.”

“Okay.” You nodded, your head practically empty as a dizzy feeling wracked your brain.

“Good.” He smiled. “Now. Tell me how you know what time I go to work.” He smirked.

“What?” You squeaked, not even realizing you’d said that aloud. “Oh my god I’m sorry, I just… just a lucky guess- I mean I see you leave pretty often around that time so I just assumed…”

“Pretty girl, you’ve been creepin’ on me haven’t you?” He teased, his smile only growing as he watched your face pale and reheat within seconds.

“No! No, god no Anakin!” You squealed grabbing both his hands. “Jesus, you must think I’m crazy. It’s- I sit next to my window to read around that time and I’ve just noticed you walk past.”

“Well I’ll make sure I start waving in your direction okay, princess?” He chirped, his face seemed to boast that he was absolutely giddy at this new information.

“I promise I haven’t been- god that sounded so weird I’m sorry.” You whispered, utterly embarrassed by your own admission. He’d never speak to you again.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He chuckled, squeezing both your hands. “I’m just teasing sweetheart. You know that don’t you?”

“Y-yeah.” You nodded, internally trying not to scream at yourself.

“Sorry.” You whispered, pulling your hands away because your palms started to feel clammy.

“Shh. Don’t worry about it.” He said softly. “I didn’t mean to make you upset. I just thought it was cute that’s all.” He smiled.

“Cute?” You repeated, your face reddened to the point that you began to feel hives sneaking up your neck.

He shrugged in response, lifting both hands up as well. A little smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he leaned over the counter and snatched your order pad from your apron pocket.

“There’s a table in the corner that’s been glaring at you for the past minute and a half.” He tilted his head in their direction. “Go take a minute for yourself. I’ll get it.”

“Wait but you-“

“I’ll get it.” He interrupted.

“Anakin-“

“What did I just say?” He said sternly.

“You’ll get it.” You responded quietly, eyes wide at his response… and the swirling storm of heat that pooled in your lower stomach.

“Good girl. Go.” He gestured dismissing you with a wave of his hand before turning on his heel.

Diary Entry: July 12th

Oh my sweet, sweet little girl.

I just love you so much I want to scoop you up and tuck you in my pocket.

You’ve been watching me. You little sneak. I purposefully don’t look up at your window when I leave and come home from work. I know you’re sitting there, I just didn’t know you were aware of me walking past. I don’t like to look up there because, well, I’m me. I’d get distracted. Horribly distracted and terribly late to work.

That’s why my head is always down, eyes scorching holes into my phone screen as I watch you, watching me.

You are so much like me. So much.

You’re just perfect for me princess. I’ve never found someone or even dreamed of finding someone who could appreciate me like I would appreciate them. That must be why it took me so long to find you, good things come to those who wait.

Waiting for you has become one of my favorite things.

I waited and waited and waited. I researched, gathered and collected, stored, filed and tucked away every minuscule detail of your life I could get my hands on. All before I let myself step foot in your apartment.

Then I waited some more. Waited until I could move in next door. Waited until I could finally let you see me.

Now I needed to wait for tomorrow.

For you to get your little drink and watch me like I watched you at the diner. Then when you get home, you’ll crawl in bed. All snuggled up in your comfy new sheets.

And it’ll be your turn to wait.

Ps. Did you know that Amazon sells pill moulds? I forgot to mention it earlier. Your SleepyTime tea won’t be enough, for this visit. I’m really lucky they have one that looks almost identical to Tylenol. I’m also really lucky that you’re oblivious enough not to question how ‘your’ bottle of Tylenol got placed conveniently next to your birth control to encourage you to take it.

I’ll make the quick switch and I’ll change them back asap.

Don’t worry, I’m not mixing drugs that shouldn’t be mixed. It’s perfectly safe to take your SleepyTime Trazodone Tea and Estazolam. I would never put you in danger. I even accounted for the fact that you always take two.

It’s real handy that I’ll have a whole bottle of ‘Tylenol’ just in case I need to pull out this trick again.

Date: July 12th

The moment you got home you practically sprinted to the shower. Not because you felt icky from work. Not because it was hair wash day. Not because you just needed to get clean.

You needed a good cold shock to your system.

The icy water pelted you like hail. If it weren’t for the chattering of your teeth and the blood rushing to your ears you swear you’d be able to hear the water sizzle and evaporate against your scorching hot skin.

Anakin had ruined you. Absolutely ruined you.

You hardly know him. How can he make you feel like this and you’ve only spoken to him for maybe an hour in total. That’s insane. You’ve interacted with him for maybe an hour or two if you take into account the times you’ve passed each other in the hall and said hello.

It’s like he knows you down to your very soul.

He acts like he was put on earth to serve you; like it’s his only reason for existing. If you were told that every thing he does, he does for you… you’d believe it wholeheartedly.

He speaks to you like he needs you to hear every syllable and know deep in your heart that he is very fucking serious about everything he says. His voice is tailored to fit your needs perfectly. He can be soft spoken and comforting. Kind and understanding. He can be firm and unwavering, serious, stern.

His voice can also be deep, rough, gravely. It can grip your attention and hold you under his thumb in a way that no man has ever done before. It’s sinful really.

He touches you like you are a precious, fragile relic meant to be coveted and kept safe. Handles you like the finest silk, like he knows each and every thread you’re woven with. Those hands, they feel so familiar.

‘He’s loved me in a past life.’ You thought to yourself. ‘That’s the only explanation.’

How else could your body light up in recognition at the firm but gentle caress of his guitar-calloused fingertips along your arms?

He looks at you and sees you.

He sees what you’ve kept locked away from everyone, maybe even the things you yourself can’t see.

You let yourself ponder over the very real possibility that you’ve gone insane. This is crazy. You’re acting like you’ve lost your last marble and you can’t catch it before it rolls under the fridge to be lost forever.

What if it’s all in your head?

What if none of these feelings are reciprocated and you’ve imagined it all? Could you really be that daft?

You shook your head and turned the shower off, stepping out and wrapping yourself in a big fluffy robe. Letting yourself drip-dry in front of the mirror while you desperately try to warm yourself back up. All the while still being painfully aware of the ache between your legs that never fully goes away. Not since the first time you felt it in his presence.

It wanes when you’re away from him. It barely dwindles to a quiet lull when you try to fix it yourself. It’s become an itch that you simply cannot scratch. It’s an incessant nagging reminder that Anakin is slowly consuming you and that he’s completely unaware of it.

It’s gotten to the point that sometimes when you wake up in the morning, it feels like you’ve been toyed with. You’ll wake up with panties soaked with arousal, so much so that the fabric sticks to you. Your nipples feel sensitive and raw. You swear you can feel the ghost of warm hands much larger than your own exploring your flesh.

You’ve come to the conclusion that your body is begging for you to give it what it needs.

You’ve all but given up on masturbation. You’re certain that nothing, not even the most luxe toy on the market could give you what Anakin could.

His cock is the only thing that can sate that horrible tug of desperate hunger you feel in your core.

Until you can have him it seems that you’ll be going to bed hungry and waking up starving.

Diary Entry: July 13th

I should win an award. I have worked so fucking hard on self control and god damn you tested me last night.

I was gnawing off my own fingers trying to quiet myself enough to hear your soft desperate pleas for release. You poor thing, if it hurts me so badly to wait that long to cum… I can only imagine what it feels like for you.

Almost an hour of it.

I could hear it baby. How wet you were for me, the sound your delicate little fingers made when you slid them down beneath your panties and as deeply into your needy little hole as you could.

It just wasn’t deep enough was it, princess?

Twice tonight you’ve tried and failed to give yourself an ounce of relief. If anything you’ve made it worse.

I walked home from ‘work’ (aka the 7/11 because I needed a snack and for you to see me now that I knew you were watching) and listened to your first try, I promise I wasn’t trying to invade your privacy like that. That’s the whole reason there’s no visual to the camera installed in your room. Audio only.

Audio that I always make a point to survey, along with footage from the other cameras, on my way home from work. Gotta keep updated you know? See what I’ve missed.

Anyway, that time you gave up relatively quickly. Must’ve decided to wait for me to get back huh? I saw you. Sitting in the window, watching me watch you through the screen.

Funny that a few minutes after I’d locked my front door I got the notification that your bedroom door had been shut. And I suppose it could’ve been a coincidence that when I pulled up the live audio I just so happened to catch the rustling of your sheets and the soft sigh escaping your lips as you starting in on your second attempt to pleasure yourself.

Of course I couldn’t let you do it alone. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t join my little princess in the bedroom any chance I got?

The pitiful noises you made broke my heart.

You tried so hard didn’t you sweetheart? All that work and you didn’t even cum. It made me hurt for you. I felt ashamed that I finished and you didn’t.

I provided solid, albeit silent and unseen, support while you worked. I wanted nothing more than to burst through your door and help you. To let you take what you needed from me.

I could be your toy. I’d be still, I’d be good. I’d let you use me until you’ve gotten your fill.

You deserve it after all the selfish teasing.

I’m sorry that you’ve been left so needy.

I’m not sorry that I did it though. How could I be sorry for the way I can make you squirm even in your sleep?

Remember what I said about killing two birds with one stone? Well, let’s make that a quad-kill okay doll?

Date: July 13th

You were giddy with excitement, you woke up in the best mood. You flitted to the kitchen and made yourself a cup of coffee in your brand new favorite Hello Kitty mug, then plopped onto the couch to call Luke.

“What are you doing tonight?” You asked the second you heard the call connect.

“What I don’t even get a hello? A goodmorning?” He scoffed.

“Hello, Goodmorning. What are you doing tonight?” You asked, meaning to sound sarcastic but you were too blissfully happy to sell it.

“Probably me.” You heard a gruff, sleepy voice crackle from a distance on Luke’s end of the line. Han.

“Jesus what’s wrong with you?” Luke snapped in a hushed whisper.

“What?” Han asked as though he truly didn’t understand what Luke was referring to.

“Sorry. Anyway.” Luke cleared his throat and you swear you heard Han chuckled and the rustling of sheets along with a dull thud and groan coming from Han.

“Lukey don’t kick your boyfriend.” You sighed, “now both of you shut up.”

“I need you to come to the bar with me tonight. You know for moral support.” You said, a giggle slipping through. “Anakin came to the restaurant for pie yesterday and he wants me to come get a drink at The Cerulean tonight.”

“So, he asked you out?” Luke questioned skeptically.

“Well no,” you said slowly. “Not exactly. He’s gonna be working… he just wanted me to come say hello cause he came to the restaurant…” you trailed off.

“We saw each other at the laundromat yesterday.” You started to explain. “And we realized we never told each other where we worked, and then we both realized we’d actually been to each other’s work… he even served me a drink at the bar. I finally remembered where I knew his face from! I thought he looked familiar.” You said proudly.

“So, you saw him at the laundromat. Invited him to the Bluebird for pie, he’s returning the favor by asking you to come see him at the bar?” Luke repeated.

“Yep. So you’ll come with me?” You asked, a grin spreading across your lips.

“Fuckin’…” He groaned. “Of course I’m coming with you are you stupid? You think I’m letting you go to a bar alone?”

“Oh I just love you.” You cooed, so so relieved he’d agreed.

“You better.”

🖤🖤🖤

With your hair pulled back in a loosely curled bun, you slipped into a cute little lilac slip dress that fit you just right. Some heels to match hastily strapped on you timidly walked into your living room and did a little spin for your best friend and his pet leech Han.

“How’s this?” You asked, gesturing to your outfit Vanna White style.

“Perfect.” Luke said with a grin. “Hot.”

“Really?” You asked as a small shy smile crossed your mouth.

“Have I ever lied to you?” He asked seriously.

“No.” You giggled.

“You look gorgeous. Now take me to meet this little boy-toy of yours.” He said, standing up from the couch as Han dutifully follow behind.

“He’s not little. He’s actually pretty tall.” You said nonchalantly.

“Do you have to have an answer to everything?” He scoffed.

“For you? Yes.”

🖤🖤🖤

You walked up to the bar, Han and Luke trailing closely behind you. You didn’t see Anakin. When you turned around to pout to your friends you were surprised to see Anakin standing behind you with his hands in his barkeep’s apron.

Luke watched the exchange with narrowed eyes and his lips pulled up in a “hmm” position. Like he was scrutinizing every last movement and word said. Maybe he was wrong about this guy. Maybe you were right and he really was all you’d painted him to be.

“Boo.” He grinned.

“Ani!” You said excitedly clapping, not even realizing you’d dropped a nickname for him.

But he noticed. He noticed and it almost brought him to his knees. Though instead of passing out and throwing up like he felt that he was going to, his hand came up to your bicep to glide down the back of your arm and bring your hand to his lips. Brushing those plump pink lips across your knuckles, all while deeply, intensely, staring into your eyes.

“Hey princess.” He smiled, then broke eye contact to address your friends and leave you to buffer.

Your turn to faint.

“You guys with her?” He asked politely, giving them a once over know that he was in front of them, up close.

“Mhm.” Luke answered. A polite smile on his lips as he stuck out his hand. “Yeah I’m Luke, this is Han.” He nodded toward him and Anakin introduced himself in return, shaking their hands.

“Look, I told Trev I’d be taking a little break to hang out with you all for a bit.” Anakin said, pointing at his work friend. “He’s happy to oblige until he gets sick of handling it by himself.” He grinned.

Conversation flowed between the three of them easily and you thoroughly enjoyed watching it play out. No one you’d ever crushed on had ever won Luke over, but Anakin was definitely cracking the concrete wall Luke built in his head to protect you.

You didn’t even feel the need to speak, you were comfortable and content just to listen. Anakin made you feel included even if he wasn’t speaking directly to you. Every so often he would tap his sneaker against the side of your heel, he’d be talking in depth about something with Luke or Han but staring at you like you were the only person in the room.

You wished he would grab you and pull you closer. But he was too respectful, too… traditional? Was that the right word? What else would you call someone who you’ve come to believe is practically courting you.

That’s what this is. You know it. You’ve seen it, read it, consumed it in enough forms of media to know that he is testing the waters and waiting for you to accept his offer.

This is the modern version of a promenade about the park.

The sweet words. Gentle touches. Occasional obvious flirts. Cutesy nicknames. Only meeting you in public, allowing you to oblige it on your terms. Offering his help in anyway he could. Not asking you out on a date, a proper one. He hadn’t even given you his phone number.

It all translates.

Sweet nothings whispered in the parlor. Comments that would’ve had you hiding your blush with a silk fan. Princess, Baby, Sweetheart; Precious, My Love, My Sweet. He even called you darlin’.

Courting means publicly inviting you to take his hand. Respectfully requesting you to allow him to steal away a piece of your heart. The gentlemanly way.

Offering his help with the groceries, gifting you the book. You’d accepted both and you only had one more until you’d be giving him silent permission to ask you to be his.

Yet you hadn’t even realized it until right now. Wait… did carrying your laundry count? No. Surely not. No. The others were extremely memorable. The third would be even more so, you were sure of it.

“Sweet girl.” Anakin cooed, snapping you out of your thoughts. “I’ve gotta go back behind the counter. What do you want to drink? On me, alright baby?”

“Oh,” you stuck out your bottom lip slightly and quirked up the corner of your mouth in thought, “Um just surprise me.” You smiled.

“Sure thing.” He grinned, a gentle thumb graced your cheekbone before he turned on his heel and headed back where he was needed.

“I’m so sorry for doubting you.” Luke said in a low and serious tone. “Like truly I’m baffled.”

“I know.” You agreed, wide eyed at Luke’s approval.

“The woman was too stunned to speak.” Han said, trying not to smirk.

“Do not quote memes to me right now.” You giggled.

You heard the double snap of Anakin’s fingers and spun around like the obedient little thing you were. Happily taking the two small steps to lean on the bar and accept your drink from Anakin.

“Margarita?” He asked, sliding it toward you.

“Yummy.” You nodded, “thank you.” You blushed.

“Oh, ‘course.” He grinned. “Anytime doll.”

“Beer for the boys.” He said, nodding at them behind you and producing two tall foamy mugs.

“Oh thanks, you didn’t have to do that.” Han said, taking a swig.

“No big deal.” Anakin shrugged, turning back to you. “Go have fun. Find me before you leave alright?”

“Uh huh.” You giggled, “I will.”

“I know.” He patted the counter near your hand and winked before turning to take someone else’s order.

“Oh you’ve got it bad.” Han let out a rumbling laugh.

“Uh huh.” You agreed enthusiastically, knowing it was true and not caring enough to pretend it wasn’t obvious.

The rest of the night was more of the same, your friends teasing you. Stealing a glance toward the bar to see that Anakin was already staring at you with the intensity of a burning star.

“You ready to go home?” Luke asked Han.

“Mmm.” He grunted in agreement and looked at Luke expectantly.

“Go on.” Luke shooed you toward the bar to tell Anakin you were leaving. They walked toward the door to wait for you, giving you just a hair of privacy.

As you walked up to the bar, Anakin was speaking to a girl who was very obliviously trying to flirt with him.

“What’ll you have?” He asked flatly.

“What’s your favorite?” She smiled, leaning on the counter and pushing her tits together.

“If you want a recommendation go to Jess.” He pointed to another coworker who was currently mixing a drink. “She’ll help.”

“What? You think I can’t handle whatever whiskey it is that you like best?” She giggled, clearly unfazed by his lack of interest.

It made your heart swell, he was acting this way and he didn’t even realize you were within earshot. He was so busy wiping down the counter to avoid eye contact with this girl, he hadn’t looked up once.

“I don’t drink.” He said.

“A bartender who doesn’t drink?” She laughed and it sounded like a fucking cackle, you saw Anakin suck in his cheeks and turn his head to tuck his chin into the shoulder farther from her to ensure he wouldn’t burst into laughter at her.

He cleared his throat and finally looked up. The eyes you know as warm and comforting looked cast from frozen steel.

“That’s what I said isn’t it?” Anakin’s voice was cold in a way that you’d never heard before and it scared you… but also kind of excited you? Like the cold wave you’d felt from his gaze once before it was gone in an instant.

Once again he’d surprised you. Just like every other time you’d been in his company. The girl scoffed and muttered something under her breath but Anakin had already left the one sided conversation and his face softened, the blue of his eyes being swallowed by the pools of black that spilled over every time he looked at you.

“There’s my princess.” He cooed. Proving without you even asking, that he had eyes only for you.

“I came to say I’m headed home.” You smiled bashfully, your hands clasped together in front of you as you rocked from your toes to your heels.

“Your body guards are walking with you right?” He asked, concern creeping in to his gentle voice.

“Of course.” You nodded, it was so sweet that he worried about you like this.

“Good.” He smiled, holding out his hand and using two fingers to beckon you closer.

You stepped forward and gave him what he wanted, your hand to squeeze gently.

“Be safe okay? I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah.” You nodded enthusiastically. “Yes you’ll see me soon.”

“Thats my girl.” He flashed a bright smile, taking your one hand in both of his and kissing your knuckles. Rubbing his across your skin his thumbs creating a heart on the back of your hand when he pulled away.

“Bye Ani.” You said, making a quick escape with one last look over your shoulder before running to Luke and Han.

🖤🖤🖤

After they returned you safely to your home you went about your nightly routine. Boil water, make tea, take birth control, and oh look at that you even had the forethought to set Tylenol out as well. Pop two of those and then shower quickly, settle in for bed and before you know it, you’re so asleep that you can’t hear your front door unlock.

Anakin intently listened to the audio of your bedroom intently on his way home. From the way you were snoring Anakin knew you were deep, deep, deep in sleep. Even so, he needed to be careful, so after he showered at his apartment he crept silently into yours with a small bag in tow.

He tested your level of unconsciousness via sound before even attempting to enter your room. Just like every other time he’d snuck in. No response.

So he opened your bedroom door and gently shooed the cat out of the room. She was very unhappy about this considering Anakin usually let her snuggle in his lap when he came to watch you sleep. But he wasn’t here to watch or to get a quick fix, not even for a little bit of teasing.

He was here to play.

Armed with the necessary tools he laid them neatly on the foot of the bed after slipping on his Ghostface mask. Cliché sure, but he knew your little secret. If you happened to wake up, which was highly unlikely, he’d be anonymous and you’d think it was another wet dream.

He pushed up the sleeves of his solid black hoodie, carefully took off his sneakers, followed by his leather gloves. He hated having to take the extra measure to hide his identity just in case but it’s his own fault for having so many tattoos.

Once finished he picked up your wrist and dropped it, watching it fall clumsily at your side. Perfect. Now he could get to the fun stuff.

He peeled back the covers and took a moment to soak in your image, you were spoon feeding him pure beauty and didn’t even know it.

He’d done this before. He couldn’t help but sneak the occasional picture, but he’d never taken a picture of you completely bare before.

Tenderly he pushed your thin nightie up and over your soft breasts, taking his sweet time to caress and care for you like always, but this time he let himself touch your chest sans fabric barrier. It was something so unforgettable, seeing the peaks of your breasts rise and pebble up under his thumb. Even more so the soft sleepy sigh you let out when he lifted his mask to suck and twirl his tongue around them. Tugging lightly before letting it fall back into place so he could watch them jiggle.

His hands traveled to your hips and slid your panties down partially. He posed you, one hand on your breast, the other he placed between your legs under your panties. He stood over you and took several pictures from different angles.

Deciding his jeans were much to restricting and horribly tight across his swelling cock, he got rid of them.

Once he was more comfortable he slid your panties farther down and placed them aside. He kneeled, getting eye level with your cunt.

The most sacred part of you. Where he so badly wanted to bury his cock, but he refrained. That could wait until you were conscious and willing.

“Look at you.” He groaned, biting his lip before getting back to the task at hand.

For now, he would slide your own fingers past your slick folds, into your greedy pussy. Holding your wrist in place so that your limp hand wouldn’t fall away. He even let you have a little taste of yourself, of course capturing that on film as well.

Now that he had some gorgeous new material for the visual to go along with the pretty little noises you make when you think no one is listening… he had some new ideas to try out.

Ideas like tilting your head to the side and slipping just the head of his precum coated dick past your plump lips. His hand trembled as he clicked record, the bright white light of the flash illuminating your face. You didn’t even flinch. Your eyelids didn’t twitch, your mouth didn’t move.

The longer he rubbed his cockhead over your tongue and traced your lips till they were shiny with precum and saliva, the more confident he grew.

“Tastes good doesn’t sweetheart? Shame you can’t lick those pretty lips isn’t it?” He snickered, tapping your cheek with his cockhead to leave a sticky trail behind.

He wasn’t worried in the slightest that you’d wake up now, so he allowed himself to go just a bit further.

Pinching the tip of your tongue and opening your jaw alittle wider, he removed his cock completely. Making sure to get a good shot of untouched throat, he’d need a before picture to refer to later.

He slowly pushed back in, stopping when he hit the back of your throat. The only bad thing about you being unconscious was that you couldn’t tell him if his fat cock was choking you. So he’d have to settle for his hand covering what wouldn’t fit in your mouth.

He sat his phone aside, he needed both hands for this. If he wanted to feel you moan around his cock, he’d have to give you something to moan about.

Hiking up one leg of yours and letting it fall to your side, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the way you were letting him treat you like a noodle. You were practically boneless… it crossed his mind to put you in the Piledriver, see how far he could fold you, but once again: you’re unconscious and you can’t tell him if you’re uncomfortable.

He had morals, lines he wouldn’t cross, rules he wouldn’t erase… maybe bend them, but not wholly change them either.

So he settled for rubbing circles around your puffy clit, already wet and needy little pussy. His hand on the back of your head to keep you still, he couldn’t have your poor brain rattling around your skull while he fucked your mouth. He loved you too much to give you whiplash via mouthful of dick.

“Oh you like that don’t you baby? Yeah you do, I can feel it.” He moaned, letting himself get lost in listening to the combined sounds of his cock in your mouth and his fingers toying with your wetness.

He slid his fingers down your slit and back up again; that’s when you made a bit of noise for him and holy shit.

His hand left your cunt immediately to keep your jaw pried open and held still while his other pumped his shaft wildly. He’d been at this more maybe two minutes tops and the vibration from that one gorgeous moan was enough to draw up his balls and scrunch his face.

He whimpered, removing his hand from your jaw, he let go of his cock and almost cried from how painfully close to cumming he was. But he couldn’t not get the first time he came in your mouth on camera. So he grabbed you by your hair and propped up your head to keep your mouth open. Straddling your chest he kneeled over you and watched through his phone screen as rope after rope of white, hot, love coated your tongue and throat.

He could’ve shed a tear at how outrageously beautiful you looked, how messy your mouth was, the drip of his semen down the back of your throat.

Anakin quickly switched over to taking photos again, he desperately needed a clear picture of your cum coated throat and god did he get the perfect image. He’d make it his screensaver if he could.

Once again tossing his phone aside he leaned over you, spitting a glob of saliva to help wash his essence down when he squeezed beneath your jaw to make you swallow.

“Perfect. Good job baby.” He whispered. “Took it like a champ.”

He squeezed both cheeks in one hand to squish your lips together. Smiling at the way you looked. Eyelids half raised from all the movement, face flushed, swollen lips.

“S’fucking cute.” He laughed, smacking your cheek twice, gently of course. Just a little love tap.

He extricated himself from you and shuffled back down to the end of the bed, between your legs where he belonged. Spreading your legs nice and wide, he took a second to just enjoy the view.

“Pretty little thing aren’t you?” He splayed his two large hands across your stomach and slowly snaked it down your abdomen, across your mound, trailing to your inner thighs to finally hook beneath your knees and lift your legs.

He needed you in the butterfly position if he were to properly pleasure you this time around. He wouldn’t tease you tonight and make you writhe and moan and hump his hand but never cum.

He’d turned you into a needy whore just like he wanted to, but you deserved a reward, he reminded himself. Because it was oh so tempting to continue that little game he loved.

“What do you think doll? Dildo or vibrator?” He asked, laying the toys one after the other between your legs to snap at photo of.

“Ah who am I kidding, you want the vibrator don’t you?” He asked rhetorically. “Here princess, get it wet for me.”

He brought the toy to your lips and rubbed it across your tongue, grinning when he pulled it away and saw the shiny string of saliva connecting to your tongue.

“Sorry you can’t have my cock sweetheart.” He said, sounding a bit mournful as he dragged the tip of the vibrator down your throat and through the midline of your body, stopping just above your clit.

“I’d love to fuck you but… I can’t do that to you.” He sighed. “You’ll just have to wait. It’ll make it more special huh?” He smiled, turning the toy onto the lowest setting.

He teased your entrance with the very tip, barely ghosting it around and around. When he finally saw your hole clench around nothing he sucked in a sharp breath and chuckled, he couldn’t help it, it was comical how badly you needed him.

Slowly, frustratingly slowly he inserted the tip and twisted. Gently thrusting it deeper and deeper until it was fully seated in your cunt. He left it there to watch for a moment, untouched and unmoved, you dripped arousal down onto the sheets below you. A beautiful little pool of sex he’d get to take home as a trophy.

“More?” He asked softly. “I think you need more don’t you sweetheart?”

He switched the setting higher, about halfway to full power and sat back on his heels watching your hips buck and your stomach tighten. A beautiful strangled moan left your swollen lips and Anakin couldn’t help himself.

“Gotta kiss that sweet mouth baby, lemme see that tongue.” He groaned, sliding the mask up just enough to suction his lips to yours to suck and pull and lick to his heart’s content.

“Fuck your mouth… tastes so good.” He whined, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth and pulling, watching it snap back into place with a wet pop.

Just as he was about to go in for another kiss he heard you take a deep inhale. He pulled the mask back into place and backed away, watching you closely for any sign that you were being roused awake.

“Don’t fucking scare me like that.” He mumbled, turning up the vibrator again.

“If you wanna cum so bad then ask for it.” He grinned.

He thrust the toy back and forth in time with his hand on his cock, loving the way your body tried to so hard to wake up your mind so you could enjoy it fully.

“Poor thing. Squirming for me.” He panted, scooting closer and seating the vibrator back into your cunt fully. “I’ll let you cum this time okay? You need it don’t you sweet girl?”

Anakin brushed his thumb across your clit quickly and beamed at the way your idle hands tried to grip the sheets beneath you.

“So close baby girl, so fucking close.” He whispered, flicking your clit just to see you jump.

He snickered and settled his thumb solidly against your puffy red button and rubbed firmly. Jacking his cock in time with his ministrations on you.

“Gonna cum…” he whined, noting the way your legs were lifting slightly from the bed.

“Yeah. Yeah, c’mon baby, fuck.” He grunted, fucking up into his fist as he tilted his head back. Spilling his cum onto the quivering canvas of your spent folds.

He slowly milked the rest of his seed out onto you and pulled the vibrator from your depths, scooping up his cum and shoving it into your greedy hole to massage into your gummy walls where it belongs.

He stroked your front wall carefully, pressing up against the sweet spongy spot that made your toes curl. The second he pressed the vibrator down on your clit your cunt spasmed around his fingers and he got to see you come undone for the first time.

“Oh shit.” He breathed out, his voice shaky as he watched that puddle beneath you become a lake as your squirt dripped over his hand and onto the fabric.

“Fucking hell.” He moaned, shoving his hand beneath his mask to slurp your juices from every centimeter of his skin.

He was too busy loosing himself in the taste of you to notice you finally fluttering your eyes open just slightly, moaning in overstimulation from the toy he’d left buzzing between your pussy lips.

“Goddamnit.” He swore, shoving his still hard cock back into his boxers and switching off the toy.

He waited, waited a painfully long time to make sure you were still stuck in dreamland before moving again. It was time to high-tail it out of there.

He clumsily shoved his things into his bag and tugged on his pants and belt. Cursing himself for getting carried away like that, for not paying attention, for almost waking you up.

Slipping into his sneakers and tugging his sleeves back down he fumbled in his pockets to find his gloves and hastily shoved his hands in them.

He stood at the foot of the bed and stared at the mess he’d helped you make on your sheets. Great. Now he really couldn’t just leave his own set of sheets beneath your mattress to change later when you were gone.

He had to do it now.

He pulled your comforter fully off the bed, your extra pillows and stuffed animals as well. The top sheet was used to quickly and carefully wipe the mess off your skin before he folded it and shoved it down into the bag.

Thinking ahead he laid the clean top sheet over the comforter so he could put both on at the same time, save a few seconds. Now came the hard part.

He popped up one corner of the fitted sheet and replaced it with the new one, doing the same to two of the other sides. He kneeled on the bed with his feet hanging off the side, careful not to get his sneakers on the clean sheets.

He gingerly laid your arms at your sides and oh so slowly rolled you over until you were flat on your back again.

Anakin held his breath and tried his very best not to laugh because of the fact that he had quite literally rolled you like a log and you didn’t even budge. He walked around to the other side and finished taking off the sheet and fitting the new one over the last edge.

After the sheet was folded and carefully tucked into his bag he tossed it over his shoulder and went to your bedroom door to allow your cat back into the room with you, she’d always snuggle under the covers beside you and you’d be awfully confused if you woke up and realized she had somehow gotten out of your room without the help of opposable thumbs.

Anakin surveyed the room and smacked himself internally. He almost left you panty-less.

“Idiot. All tore up from one little thing.” He scoffed. “Can’t believe I almost-“

He shook his head and told himself to shut his mouth, he could shit talk himself later. Right now he needed to carefully slide your panties back into place and cover you back up, maybe give you alittle goodnight kiss too.

Finally everything was in place as it should be, he marked everything off in his internal to-do list and checked his watch. He’d kept it under two hours just like planned, everything was fine, so fine in fact that he didn’t bother to be careful with his foot-falls.

The high-pitched shriek of pain Boogie let out when he put his full weight onto the tip of her tail was more than enough to wake the dead. Anakin froze, smacking the button on the side of his neck, attached to the box that would alter his voice in case he needed to speak.

“Boogs?” You sat up slowly, your body not in tune with your mind in any capacity. Funny how he could fuck you with a vibrator but an ear piercing cat wail could wake you up. Weird.

You didn’t even have your eyes open, poor thing. Anakin laughed before he realized he was making any noise at all.

If your eyes were sewn shut with sleep before they were stretched wide with terror now. You scanned the room and were horrified to see a tall, imposing figure in a… Ghostface mask?

Hot. Wait- no. You shook your head and flipped on your bedside lamp.

“Don’t fucking move.” He growled, producing a butterfly knife from his pocket and spinning it to flip it open.

You squealed but complied and shrunk back. There wasn’t much you could do anyway, you could barely hold your eyes open and your head up.

“Good.” He nodded, walking up to you basking in the knowledge that you’d be obedient in this type of situation.

“What’d you want?” You asked quietly.

“Just came to say hello to a pretty little thing that’s all.” He cooed and sat down on the side of the bed.

You whimpered and moved sluggishly away, finding it difficult to support your weight with your arms.

“Hold real still.” He soothed and for some reason you did.

You didn’t flinch or fight him when he used the tip of the knife to push your hair away from your eyes.

“I’m not gonna hurt you.” He stated calmly. “Cross my heart, hope to die.”

You could practically hear the smirk in his filtered voice as he slashed the flat side of the knife in an X across the center of chest. In one fluid motion that was much more attractive than you’d ever willingly admit, he flipped out one of the dual knife handles and somehow swung it closed in the open palm of his hand by twitching his wrist quickly.

He showed you that he was putting it into the locked position, pushing the small rod at the bottom of one of the handles with his thumb until it clicked.

“You’re safe I promise.” He said. “I’ll let you hold it if you want.” He offered it in his open, flat palm but you denied it, shaking your head and quickly realizing that made you very dizzy.

“Brave one, huh?” He chuckled, pocketing the knife again.

He saw your eyes flit toward your phone and tsk’d audibly.

“Hey, I said I’m not gonna hurt you.” He reassured you. “Don’t try it okay?”

“Okay.” You agreed, bottom lip trembling.

“Like I said. I just wanted to say hello.” He shrugged. “And maybe remind you that you should remember to lock your windows.” He hated to lie, but he couldn’t say he just unlocked your front door could he?

At that moment your cat jumped up and settled in his lap. He carefully inspected her tail and gave her gentle chin scratches.

“Sorry bud. Didn’t mean to step on you.” He whispered.

“What the fuck.” You whispered, unbelievable. What the hell was happening?

“Hmm? Oh yeah, we’re good friends aren’t we?” He said, patting her head. “Now, go to your mommy m’kay?” He scooped her up and put her in your arms.

“She’s had a bit of a fright.” He told your cat. “Best to keep her company.”

“Now. I’m gonna leave okay?” He said, standing up slowy, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. “Count to 100.”

“What?”

“Count to 100 before you get up or try to call anyone. Got it?” He said, his tone even through the filter suggested that you should’ve just known what he meant.

“Yeah.” You nodded, your eyes feeling heavy and droopy again.

“Good.” He had to try extremely hard not to use pet names with you. He was certain you’d be suspicious immediately if he did.

“I’m going to leave through your front door, after I lock your window for you. Understand?” He said while slowly backing out of your room.

You blinked, mouth agape, still so very confused. What is this? Is this some strange and vivid dream? Maybe you should ask?

“Am I- this a dream?” You questioned, feeling stupid as soon as it left your lips.

He tilted his head and clasped his hands in front him, leaning his back against your bedroom door frame.

“Do you want it to be?” He asked in a teasing way that sounded too familiar for your comfort.

“What?” Your voice shook, you were suddenly aware of how pathetically helpless you were.

A stranger with a knife is in your bedroom and you’re just speaking to him like this is the fucking checkout line at Kroger.

He chuckled, scratching the side of his mask as if it were his cheek. “Pink book. Right bottom corner under the mattress.” Anakin nodded toward your bed.

“You- wait.” You felt sick, your diary? He was talking about your diary? How long was he in here?

“Mhm.” He nodded.

He waited for you to speak again, relaxing again the the doorframe. He let his head tilt back and knock against the wood while he crossed his legs at the ankle and unclasped his hands. Cracking his knuckles with his fingers laced together.

“Well?” He asked, crossing his arms across his broad chest.

“Well what?”

“Do you want it to be a dream?” He repeated firmly, leaning forward just a bit.

Why did you want to say yes?

“I’m not hearing a no.” He raised a hand in the form of a question from where it was tucked underneath his arm.

“No.” You shook your head, watching the room spin. “D-did you drug me?” You whispered rubbing your eyes as dancing lights flashed across your eyelids.

“Yep.” He answered nonchalantly. “Don’t worry you’ll be fine.”

“Huh.” You breathed out. If this was real life and a stranger broke into your house and somehow drugged you… why wasn’t he trying to hurt you?

It must be a dream. Sure. Yes. A dream.

“What’ll it be?” He asked “should I stay? Or should I go?”

“What do you want to do?” You wondered aloud and immediately regretted not thinking before you spoke.

“Oh you don’t wanna know.” He snickered.

“Then why’re you here?”

“You’re peaceful when you sleep.” He said casually. “I like to watch you.”

“You what?” You squeaked. “You’ve been here before?”

“How about this.” He proposed, walking back to your bed and fishing your diary out from under the mattress. “You have questions for me, I’ll answer them. Write ‘em down.”

He tossed it on the edge of the bed and reached out to you. “C’mere.”

“Why?”

“Just do it okay?” He sighed and watched you scoot closer.

He gingerly reached out as if you might bite him, you probably should. But for whatever reason you didn’t want to. He kind of felt… familiar. He didn’t scream ‘psycho killer’ instead he radiated comfort.

His leathered fingers scratched the top of your head in soothing circles. Why were you allowing this? Why were you not terrified?

“Go back to sleep.” He said softly. “I’m leaving now.”

“Why?”

“Do you want me to stay?” He laughed.

“What? N-no?” You shook your head, denying it vehemently. “Of course not.”

“Sure.” He teased. “G’night.” He straightened up and patted your head.

You watched him leave, heard him walk through your living room and kitchen and leave your apartment.

You didn’t move. You didn’t jump up and run. You didn’t grab your phone and call the cops or Luke or anyone else.

You didn’t feel scared, you thought maybe your strange acceptance of the situation was a survival instinct that would go away when the threat did. But you weren’t scared. If anything… you felt alittle lonely now that he was gone.

Part Seven

This is a butterfly knife for those of you who are unaware lol

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero @vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee @doblasftcisco @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @lunalitva @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141 @rorysbrainrot @hopesworlld @lonaah @t8lzw @guiltycherries @syralix @doblasftcisco

THE TAGS LIST IS FULL! But if you want to be tagged I will comment ur username for you. Love you all so many.

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theautisticwriter · 7 months

Text

Love Letters: Yandere! Helluva Boss characters X G/N Reader

Characters- Blitzø, Moxxie, Millie, Loona, Stolas, Asmodeus, Fizzarolli

Show- Helluva Boss

Genre- romantic, yandere

Summary- Mini love letters from your not so secret stalkers admirers!

Warnings- swearing, pet names, yandere themes, mentions of planned kidnapping, stalking, delusional characters, unwanted attention

Word count- 1.5K

Extra notes- I have a Hazbin Hotel version of this uploaded as well!

key: f/l = first letter of your name, y/n = your name, n/n = your nickname

———————————————————

By this point you know who it is y/n, I’m the only person COOL enough to send u romantic as fuck letters like the old people do

Sorry for eating the food u made last night, when i was raiding ur fridge it looked so fucking good (and it was, who knew u could cook :P). i left u a pony as a replacement, u can’t eat it but it’ll make u think of me ;) and that pony cost me a FUCK ton of money, collectors addition and shit. i know, bad fucking ass right??

the stupid shitty loud alarm u installed didn’t work when i came in, ud be much safer with me and loony. that’s the plan anyways babe, u have NO idea the fucking creeps that live down here, they’re all fucking animals and ur…not, a fucking asshole i guess.

i drew you smth (it’s the thing stuck on the back of the envelope with the glitter glu)

^glue

it’s me and u holding hands, like other couples do. we’re better than those corny fuckers tho, hence the crowns on our heads.

ignoring my texts, BLOCKING ME (still upset about this BY THE WAY) and then ignoring my very nice letters is kinda a dick move f/l, but it’s whatevs. everything is almost ready for ur move in. i cleaned up n everything :D

from the only bitch worth ur time,

blitzø

<3 (ignore that, moxxie threw a gun at me and my hand slipped, might fire him)

———————————————————

Hiya sweet cheeks!!!

It’s Mills here, just checking in! Via letter! Ain’t that just the fanciest little thing? Mox said it’s the best way to show thought and care to someone, so here’s all my thoughts and care, just for you!

How’ve you been? Good I hope, I’ve been just peachy thanks for asking! My Ma and Pa are super excited to meet ya one day, they’ve even started planning the wedding! Now I told them to slow their horses down, and not the overwhelm ya, we’ll get to that don’t you worry darlin.

Im just so excited to write this letter for you! Ain’t it so romantic?? I’m practically squealing in delight at the thought of you opening this and swoonin’, that’s what you’re doing, right?

Now i’m writing this on my break, and my boss really needs me back in the game! I got employ of the month! Most amount of kills, with the best and bloodiest results baby!

Until next time sweetheart,

Your Mills! ♡

———————————————————

Hi y/n,

It’s Moxxie here, I was a little nervous to send this letter to you, but I always try to follow my heart, and my heart was telling me to communicate with you in the most romantic way I know how due to our current circumstances of being so far away. It’s hard, for the both of us i’m sure, but we’ll be okay y/n.

As much as I don’t get along with my father, he has been helpful with my preparations for your arrival. It’s a big deal, moving in together. I’m sure your anxious, I am too, but in the best way possible. Love is pure, and can make somebody feel whole, it’s a wonderful feeling. I never want that to be taken away from me, and you are the source of all my love. That’s why we need to be together, being only half a demon isn’t good for the soul.

We can do lots of fun things together as well, like go to the opera, or to musicals, or I can show you my shooting skills. My boss says that I have a pretty good shot, which is the biggest compliment he’s ever given me. And we can do things you like too, marriage is equal of course. Obviously, this will all happen later done the line, you’ll need time to adjust, and I understand that. I understand you.

I’m running out of room on my page, but I will write to you again tomorrow. Please respond? Just once, y/n? It’d be nice, to hold something from you since I can’t hold you yet.

All my love,

Your Moxxie <3

———————————————————

Uh, hi?

Wait, you don’t put ‘uh’ in letters do you? Or put wait whilst you think, fuck shit fuck

Sorry, I’m new to this. Normally I just send a text to people but, your phone is off at the moment I think? Or you lost it? Or you blocked me?

Either way, I’ll send you these stupid letter things until it’s back on. So, uh, what are you up to? Blitz has been up my ass about meeting you, heads up, when I come get you and bring you to our room he’s gonna go all psycho dad mode and integrate you, but he’ll back off after a while. He’s a dick sure, but he does want me to be happy. And your, likeable or whatever, so i’m sure you’ll get along.

Once you get comfortable at home with me, Blitz said you could work with me at I.M.P. You’ll be like the co-secretary or something. You won’t be put in danger, I won’t let that happen, you’ll just get to sit with me. We can watch things together, if you wanted.

I guess i’ll see you soon, how do you end these?

See you,

Love from,

Regards?

Bye y/n,

Loona.

———————————————————

My dearest y/n,

I hope this letter finds you well. I yearn for your presence here, besides me. It’s quite lonely without you, I will admit my dear. It would be oh so wonderful if you could write back. I understand you may be preoccupied with your current activities, but I can’t help myself from desiring a response. I know, it’s selfish of me to expect you to reply to my letters when you’ll be here with me shortly, but I can’t keep my thoughts at bay at the moment.

Your face is a constant in my mind, night and day, asleep and awake, your voice in my mind calms me when I need it most, your smile brightens the bleariest of moments and so on. You can imagine the difficulties I’m facing with no response from you, but that’s alright. If you can’t write back to me dear, I won’t pressure you. Your time is precious, and we will have all the time in hell quite soon. Isn’t that exciting?

I can give you the life you deserve n/n, any luxuries or mundanities you wish for will be handed to you on a silver platter. Or a golden one, if that’s more to your liking? We can properly discuss the specifics once we are together. How thrilling, the though of you and I together at last.

We truly are written in the stars!

Yours until the end of the sky and then some,

Stolas.

———————————————————

Hey there baby,

It’s been a while, huh? I’m sorry if you feel neglected babe, it’s so hard keeping in contact with you when you’re so far away hun. Wouldn’t it be so much better if you were here with me? Sure I’ve got a lot of meetings, being a sin and all, but I’d be at your beck and call n/n, you could even be my new excuse to leave those awful “business” discussions. They barely talk business with me, it’s just complete bullshit babe.

I know the lust ring can be intimidating, we have quite the reputation, but I assure you, love is not a foreign concept to me. Romance is one of my most favourite things! Though that’s a secret, let’s keep that between us, yeah? That side of me is reserved for you n/n.

It’s so boring over here without you, I feel like i’m just lounging around and last time I checked, I was the lust sin, not the sloth sin. We’d have so much fun together babe! Can’t you picture it? Even if you can’t yet, I can wait. Having you near me will be enough, you are enough just as you are.

Sincerely yours,

Asmodeus (Ozzie) xoxo

———————————————————

Heya cutie!

Letters are a lot harder to write than I thought they’d be y’know? I’ve rewritten this like 16 times already, sheesh. It just feels so awkward, I can’t see your reaction to my words which means I can’t fix any mistakes I’ve made :(. I’m sure I haven’t made any though! Right? This letters going really well so far and is definitely wooing you, right, y/n?

Hah, I’m asking questions as if you can reply right away. Silly old me, I don’t know what i’m worrying about! We’re meant to be together. I know it’s super sappy, but we’re like soulmates. Soulmates are bound to be together! That’s why I’m bringing you home soon, I can’t wait! I’ve got sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo many awesome tricks to show you!

And, the best news, I quit my job!! ༘⋆-ˋˏ ༘⋆-ˋˏ This means, we will have a LOT more time with each other, and you don’t have to worry about Mammon being possessive over me, because fuck him! I’m my own clown! Or, well, your clown.

I can’t wait to see you! This is going to be great for us, I pinky promise :P

Love from,

Fizzarolli !!!! ༘⋆!!,-!ˋˏ!!!

———————————————————

509 notes · View notes

lightlycareless · 9 months

Note

Hiii, can i request a scenario on how naoya (when he has reached a point where he loves wife!reader from an arranged marriage) would react to one day not being greeted at all when he comes home? It is completely silent, no response as he calls for her and is getting a bit worried as he starts searching the rooms. But then he sees her laying on the couch, shivering and sweating from a cold that’s so intense she’s barely lucid and can’t even tell he’s there and talking to her

Heya!!

So... I took some liberties when writing this, kind of went a completely different route (the sick part, alongside worried Naoya still remains though), it just occurred to me when reading your ask, but I hope it's still of your liking 🥺!!!

anyways, here are the warnings: mentions of death, miscarriage, a very concerned and overprotective Naoya, a bit of fluff, and everyone wants to spoil you rotten lol.

And without further ado, happy reading!

“Y/N, I’m home!”

Home.

A word he never really cared for, always considering it sappy, alongside the fondness that was usually assigned to it, which Naoya couldn’t think of as nothing but ridiculous, if not hilariously overrated.

For many years, Naoya thought that a home was simply the place that one was raised in and that’s about it. Nothing of the sentimentality others liked to apply to it, brag about it…

Until, of course, he finally came to understand what the word meant; why it was so special, and why it was important to have one.

A home wasn’t made by the people he knew as family, blood related, found in the place he was forced to be in since he was born, and probably die in—no; it’s the one that was made by the people of his choice, people he met through his course of life, connected with, and now, cherished.

Amongst them, you.

He considered himself lucky to have found the love of his life, a concept he considered so… foreign, impossible for someone like him, if not a stupidity of delusional people desiring more from life.

So was Naoya destined to think for the rest of his existence, condemned by his same family to live a life of loneliness, hatred, and die the same way.

But you’d come to show him otherwise, shockingly, and unexpectedly, and in such a way he couldn’t even put up a fight, completely surrendering to you and the wonderful feelings that being in love with you provided.

Now that he’s experienced them, he couldn’t find the reason as to why his family would ever reproach such beautiful thing as harshly as they did—or that he believed them in the first place…

Well, that’s not something that bothers him anymore; the Zen’in clan could continue on in their hard stuck ways for all he cared; he, on the other hand, plans to spend the rest of his days alongside the woman of his dreams, starting by today, finally back in your arms after days of being pulled into pointless missions after pointless missions, which he would not hear of for a few weeks—having earned a well-deserved break for his consistently good performance.

Naoya even prepared accordingly for the occasion, having bought gifts from all the places he’d been to, as well as ideated ways to distract you from the boring estate and his nagging relatives he knows you don’t enjoy being around with, only tolerating them because they were, well, your in-laws, his family—with exceptions of those you do get along, and for them, he’s grateful that they do.

Ah, he couldn’t wait to see you, your face, and the adorable way it brightens up whenever receiving him.

To tell you of his day while resting his head on your lap, with you passing your fingers through his hair, gently soothing his stresses away as you reassure him that he’s the best sorcerer out there, he’s just… unlucky to bump into lesser talented ones.

Get something to eat too, he’d like his favorite for a start, miso soup—and perhaps have you feed it to him? God, it’s been a while since both have done that, and it’s not because he doesn’t like doing it, or you for that matter, but rather, he doesn’t want to risk being seen by others, it has to be in the utmost privacy, after all! He isn’t to be vulnerable in front of his family!!

Oh, he needs wishes to see you—right now. And he’s absolutely sure you’re feeling the same way…

If so… why hadn’t you responded? Why hadn’t you come to receive him in the same manner you’ve always done?

Naoya knows that his schedule can be a bit… unpredictable, making it difficult for you to know exactly when he’ll come back home—but even then, it didn’t take you that long to meet him after announcing his return.

You’d always come to the entrance, no matter if it happened right that moment, or a bit later; you just… did.

But today… it seems that you opted to break the routine by taking far longer than you usually do.

He’d remain attentive to his surroundings, hoping to either hear your approaching footsteps or voice softly calling for him at a distance, yet as time went on, he was received with neither…. And Naoya only begins to grow more worried.

Your husband tries to not jump to the worst conclusion just yet, opting to think that you were perhaps simply caught up tending to the house, maybe even partaking in an unwanted conversation with one of his relatives and having trouble brushing them off—for no matter the times you’d reminded them that your husband was back, and you needed to be there to receive him, still acted as if it wasn’t that important.

Things that implied that even when running late, you were still ok.

Yet…

“Y/N!” Naoya calls once again, hoping for a change…

…

Silence.

It’s by this time that he decides it’s better to search for you than to stand around and wait for you to magically appear.

Naoya begins by going into the main wing, eyes scanning through the gardens, your usual place of leisure when not busy, where you’d calmly enjoy the diligently tended for flowers (the ones he had changed to your favorite as soon as he found out which ones they were) while snacking on something, or in the company of your loyal staff—if that were the case of your absence, he understood why you didn’t answer.

But he wouldn’t find you near any of the gardens, or anywhere in fact! A statement that weighed even heavier upon finding out that the staff was in the same predicament as him, for when he asked a nearby servant of your whereabouts, he was received with the following answer:

“We haven’t seen her” Naoya’s heart sinks.

“What do you mean you haven’t seen her?” he breathes. “Where could my wife—did she—did she leave the estate?”

No. You… didn’t. Because that’s not what you told him you’d be doing a few hours ago, after letting you know he was on his way back home; if anything, you replied with how excited you were to see him again and that you’d be eagerly waiting for him!

So obviously, their words didn’t make sense. But if so… where were you?

Naoya now frantically searched for you through every wing, room, space, chamber, closet, just— anywhere, literally anywhere you could be while repeatedly calling out your name in hopes of getting a response, or even a glimpse of you; he doesn’t care what at that point, he’s happy with either!

Yet, the longer he went on without an answer, the bigger his sorrow became, to the point where his mind was machinating nothing but the worst-case scenarios, slowly losing his inhibitions as he repeatedly wondered Where were you? How come no one has seen you? Did he have to escalate this situation?

Just—Where are you, Y/N?!

Thankfully, there would be no need to pursue bigger solutions for he’d get his answer soon enough after entering the east wing, passing through the living quarters, and arriving to the laundry room, one of the last places he’d thought you’d be—rightfully guessing so, for you were there, apparently washing whatever garments you had pending, which you hadn’t been able to wash due to a variety of unknown reasons…

But far from feeling elated to have found you, Naoya felt as if whatever he had left of his heart was effectively broken, which felt short compared to the way he found you.

“Y/N!”

The sight that received him is one that will remain imprinted in the back of mind: you were laying on the floor, on your side, tightly clutching to your stomach as you breathed heavily, eyes tightly shut while groaning in what Naoya could only interpret as pain.

As if his worries weren’t through the roof at that point, this last conclusion is what urged Naoya to hastily make way to your side, swiftly kneeling to your level as he calls out for you once more.

“Y/N—Y/N” He’d breathe, firmly yet carefully placing his hands over you with intentions of picking you up, but his hold falters when his fingers briefly graze your skin, making him gasp in return. “Y/N you’re—you’re burning!”

This would be the only time you’d respond to him, barely able to move your head onto his direction, slightly opening your eyes to see him, a gaze that shows how much pain you were going through, barely able to understand what was going on, except for gently breathing the word that makes his heart squeeze out in pain.

“Na—Naoya…”

Any hesitation is effectively thrown out the window by that point, picking you up and rushing you towards their shared bedroom, all while barking orders to the nearby staff, demanding them to call for a doctor, as quickly as possible, unless they wanted to be jobless by the end of the day!

The staff reacts accordingly, and a few minutes later, the family doctor arrives to the estate, guided to your room and seeing that you were already being tended to, or at least that’s the idea he gets from the dampened towel on your forehead, undoubtedly in efforts of lowering your fever—which unfortunately, had been for nothing.

Well, he was there now, and he didn’t waste time either to get to work, quickly assessing your condition by the apparent symptoms, starting by your temperature, the color of your skin, and even the way you reacted to him while doing so, completely uncooperative—apparently, whatever put you in this state had evoked great instability from you, thus the doctor found it necessary to put you under sedatives.

But even when he was able to quickly gain control of the situation, the doctor still couldn’t arrive at a proper conclusion, less when the people around you had an even smaller idea of what struck you.

“I—I don’t know.” Naoya would respond, angrily, frustrated—and rightfully so. How come none of the servants had noticed your absence? Or worse, hadn’t seen anything that could hint as to what your sickness was about?! “Can’t you just—help her?!”

“That’s what I’m trying—I can’t help her if I don’t know what I’m dealing with.” The doctor responded as calmly as he could, but even he had to admit that everyone’s seeming ignorance annoyed him as well. “But I can still say that this seems much more than just a simple… sickness.”

“What do you mean?” Naoya frowns, the doctor looks at the nearby servants, tasked to be on stand-by if needed.

“I’d like to discuss this in private.” He tells them.

The servants don’t wait for Naoya to repeat the order before they’re already out the room and away from their earshot; a request that while didn’t raise any concerns from Naoya —if anything, he was glad their pesky, useless presence, was finally away from you— the doctor’s face was quick to convince your husband that something far worse than what met the eye.

And this made Naoya’s nerves reach a new limit.

“I told you; I don’t know what happened—” Your husband is quick to defend, believing the doctor was to interrogate him once more, only to be interrupted.

“You don’t need to tell me for me to know what happened.” He interjects, Naoya’s eyes widen.

“I’m lost.” Naoya scowls. “Stop talking cryptically and get on with it!”

“I’ve seen these symptoms before, Naoya. And as I said, these are not from a simple sickness, an allergy or any of the matter” He takes a deep breath. “I heavily suspect she was intoxicated—and not accidentally, but rather, intentionally.”

“Excuse me?” Naoya frowns. “I told you to stop talking in riddles, say what you—”

“Poisoned, Naoya. I believe your wife was poisoned.”

Naoya’s world comes to a screeching halt.

You…

You were poisoned.

According to the doctor, you—You were attacked, besieged, with malicious intents.

Taken advantage of in the one place you’d never be on edge, your home, the same one he had repeatedly reassured your father that you’d be safe in—the Zen’in estate, home to the prestigious Zen’in clan! There was no safer place in the whole world! There couldn’t!

No one— no one wouldn’t dare do such a thing here—they knew better! Naoya would force them to now better…

Yet, someone dared to commit this transgression against you.

And to make it all worse….

Almost got away with it.

Who would even think of doing such transgression against you?! You?!

You had no quarrels with anyone, and even when you did, you handled things in such an amicable way just so you’d live peacefully, free of nonsensical arguments—you had no space for them in your life!

And yet, this still happened, and right underneath his nose….

There’s no doubt that he’ll put an investigation into order to find the bastard responsible for your suffering, and once he does, he’ll make him regret his existence, to the point he’ll have him begging for mercy—and even then, it wouldn’t be enough for Naoya.

However, that is something that will have to wait until he knows you’re safe, healthier, which the doctor had slowly began to help you with by giving you something that will immediately trap the poison from being further absorbed by your blood—activated charcoal, so he remembers— as well as some other prescriptions for side effects he wishes to prevent.

“Your wife was very lucky to survive, have you waited a second more—”

“I wasn’t waiting.” Your husband immediately responds, offended by his wording. “I wasn’t aware of this until I returned.”

The doctor presses his lips together, taking notice that throughout his whole visit, Naoya has never left your side, nor freed your hands from his.

“And I’m not surprised.” He silently admits.

Naoya hates the notion the doctor was implying, that this was an inside job. But considering the odd behavior of the staff, their seeming ignorance of your location and your status… it all pointed to that same conclusion.

The boiling fury inside him grows bigger.

“How could this be?” Naoya seethes.

How could someone get this far, this close to you, and no one suspecting a thing?

Your husband might’ve reproached the way the doctor expressed himself, but there was an undeniable truth behind them; he truly was lucky to have gotten back home just when he did, for had he taken a second longer, just one, you could’ve die—

Outside of that, the second most important question regarding this whole situation was…where was your staff? Why, of all days, were they absent?

Naoya is confident that if Mariya, your closest confidant, had been around, this would’ve never happened in the first place; the moment she saw anything out of the ordinary, she would’ve pulled all the stops and acted accordingly.

Yet, she was nowhere to be seen, and this makes Naoya both highly suspicious, and furious.

Where was she? Where are the rest? Why would they leave you in your most needed time? Did they plan this? Plot against you?! Where the hell could they possibly—

“They’re going to be away for the weekend to visit their families.”

He suddenly remembers; you told him so earlier that week through a text.

“Will you be ok?” Naoya also remembers asking; he didn’t feel happy knowing you’d be alone without your most trusted staff.

“It’s just a few days, Naoya. Besides, they deserve a break! I don’t want them to get tired of me, you know?” you laugh. “But you better come back quickly, ok? Just because they’re not around doesn’t mean I like being alone…”

“I won’t take long. I promise.”

If only he’d kept his word…

Well, if that was to be the answer to their absence, then it wasn’t fair to hold any level of animosity towards them, a weight being lifted from his burdened shoulders upon realizing your staff could strill be trusted in.

Now all that was left to worry about is finding the culprit… and the status of that too.

“Is she ok?” Naoya would ask.

“She is, I managed to—”

“No, I mean… that.” Naoya’s voice hints to a silent agreement between the two. “Is… that ok?”

The doctor quickly catches what he means, affirming so by a nod. His reassurance lifts an immeasurable weight from his heart, even greater than the alleged betrayal of Mariya and the rest. One less thing to worry about.

“What now, then?”

“Since the damage was limited, to say the least, it won’t be necessary to move her to a hospital, however—”

She’s still in danger. Naoya concludes. More so if the attack came from someone inside… And what makes him think that just because he’s back they’ll stop trying?

If anything, seeing how close they got, they could try once again!

The mere thought is enough to push him into taking what is perhaps the most radical decision he could’ve taken in this situation, something that might come to torment him in the future, but until then, he won’t care, not even a bit; not when he had your safety to worry about:

That is… Naoya fired everyone, effective immediately.

He took no heed if any of them had been serving the family for years, if they were close friends of his father, or if their livelihood would be affected— Naoya just wanted them out of his sight, the estate, and as soon as possible, less they wanted to receive more of his anger, before continuing with the rest of his plan.

Due to the gravity of said situation, Naoya knew he had to contact your family; he also knew that you would’ve refuted the idea as soon as he mentioned it to you, not wanting to worry them if you’ve truly been attacked, but he couldn’t do this to your father; not when he was amongst the few people in the world he knew had your wellbeing as utmost priority— as well as holding a great amount of respect and appreciation for him, specifically for the way he welcomed him into your family.

Eiichi, your father, had to admit that getting a call from the Zen’in estate that didn’t come from you surely surprised him beyond any comprehension, and yet, that would be nothing compared to the shock he’d get upon knowing the motive behind said call; Naoya swore he almost heard your father passing out, or at least, in the process of.

“Poisoned?!” Eiichi gasped, tightly clutching onto the phone—he might’ve as well passed out and dived into a nightmare! “Is she ok?! Where is she right now?”

“At the estate, with me—the doctor didn’t think it necessary for her to be hospitalized since he was able to stop the poison from spreading any further, but she still needs rest.”

“And the baby?” the referenced secret between Naoya and the doctor; your pregnancy.

“Fine.” He breathes, swallowing. “The doctor didn’t tell me of any damage done to the baby… but I’m—I’m still taking her to the doctor, just—just to be sure.”

“How could this happen?” Eiichi laments, heart breaking not only for you, but for Naoya as well. Your father knew all too well what it was to lose the love of his life, a pain that he would never desire on anyone, not even his own enemies…

One that he could slowly begin to hear in Naoya’s voice; oh, he could only imagine the pain he was going through, or what waited for him if he had lost not only you, but his child too.

But, well, the worst is over… at least for now.

“Someone from the staff did it.” Naoya declares, Eiichi’s heart sinks even further. “But I’ve taken care of it, I’ve fired everyone.”

And your father, contrary to Naoya’s relatives, did not question him. If anything, he seconded his decision, because had he been in your husband’s shoes, he would’ve done the same thing.

“Was her staff involved?” Your father asks, feeling a slight… anger with the idea that the ones you greatly cherished could’ve plotted against you.

“No, they were not; in fact, they were out of the estate when all this went down.” Naoya responds. “But I know that if they had been here, this would’ve never happened in the first place.”

“Bring her here, with me.” Eiichi immediately suggested, Naoya blinks, startled by the idea, if not against it.

“Father—"

“We can take care of her while she’s recuperating, take her to the doctor too. I’ll make sure that she has everything she needs. And not to misjudge your staff, or lack of, but the people here would never hurt her—they’ve known her since she was a child! There won’t be another safer place for her to be than here, Naoya. At least… until she’s better.”

Previously, Naoya would’ve questioned the veracity of his words, done all he could to prove you were much better with him, but after this occurrence… he had to agree.

As much as it hurt him to know you’d be away from him, especially when you were pregnant… he knew this was the right decision to make. He couldn’t expose you to another similar situation—not even if he got a completely new staff… or if you didn’t want to leave.

So, Naoya accepts Eiichi’s suggestion, alongside buying him a ticket for the earliest available flight to Kyoto; a few hours later, your father would arrive to the estate, rushing to your side, keeping you company while tending to your every need as Naoya prepared everything for your departure.

When you eventually regained consciousness, you were (although a bit surprised) overwhelmingly elated to see your father visiting you, for it had been so long since you’d seen him, probably around the time you announced your pregnancy!

However, that excitement would soon diminish when Naoya told you why he was there… alongside the cryptic explanation of your “sickness.”

“It was an allergy.” Naoya would say, not wanting to stress you by the fact that you were intentionally poisoned, although that excuse did little to stop you from doing so. “Rare, but it can happen, especially with pregnant women.”

“An allergy…? But I didn’t…” you frown.

“It happened to your mother, once.” Eiichi followed Naoya’s lead. He hated lying to you, but… he concurred that keeping you safe, both mentally and physically, was worth doing so. “It’s nothing but hormonal changes, so don’t worry much about it.”

“I guess…” you frown, pressing your lips. “But that still doesn’t explain why I have to leave.”

“We need to check what caused your allergy” Naoya responds. “It might be something about the food, the flowers, or even the wood; I rather you be safe than to go through that scare again.”

“But is… all this really necessary?” Naoya gives you a tight smile and a nod. “Naoya, I—"

“It’s not all bad, Y/N.” Naoya says.

“Besides, don’t you want to spend time with your papa? It’s been so long since I’ve spent time with my adorable pumpkin!” Eiichi laments.

“Dad!” you gasp, flustered by his words. “Don’t—don’t say that in front of Naoya…”

“What? It’s true! And that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do since I learned I’m going to be a grandfather!”

“Stop it!” your face becomes redder. “You’re embarrassing me!”

Naoya chuckles; it’s not like he’s seen you in… worse situations. Or better?

“But… I guess a visit is overdue.” You eventually concede, Naoya and your father sigh out of relief. “Though what about Mariya, Haruko, and Hitomi?”

“They’ll go with you, if you want.” Naoya says; he doubts they’ll say no, especially after knowing of the whole fiasco that occurred when away, might even offer themselves before he suggests the idea.

“If I didn’t know any better, sounds like you want me gone.” You jest, Naoya frowns. “It’s a joke, of course…”

“There’s nothing more I would like than you staying here, but until we figure out what caused that reaction from you, I’d rather not risk it.”

“It’s only temporary, Y/N. Besides, look—I brought you gifts!” Eiichi says, taking out the bag he brought from home seemingly out of nowhere, filled with things he knew you’d love, such as sweets, your favorite mochi’s of course, alongside some plushies that would always brighten your day when you were a child. “And there’s much more back home…”

Naoya can’t help but feel relieved you had your father for support, but at the same time, a bit jealous and, well, threatened. Not for bad reasons, of course, it was simply because how the hell did he not think of bringing you gifts first?!

“Dad… you’re embarrassing me in front of Naoya.”

“Ah, that’s a parent’s bane, isn’t it? To always embarrass their children—you’ll see what I mean when you both have your baby.”

Perhaps the main reason why you ended up agreeing to leave was because your pregnancy did not seem affected by your supposed allergy; had it been you would’ve refused to leave your husband’s side!

… Well, you still would’ve refused either way, but perhaps a bit more. You hate the idea of being away from the father of your child for too long, after all.

“I don’t think so—Naoya and I are going to be the cool parents, you’ll see.”

“That’s what your mom and I thought, and look at me now, can’t even say anything without you telling me I’m embarrassing you!” Eiichi says, you chuckle.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, mom was cool! You were always the funny one!”

Naoya smiles.

Now he knows for sure that there’s no safer place for you to be in than with your family, even if that were to be on the other side of the country…

After Naoya prepared everything for your departure, the three eventually made way to the exit, where you and your father would bid their last goodbyes.

“Won’t you accompany me?” you ask, a slight pout on your face, he smiles in hopes to cheer you up, but really, he felt miserable.

“I want to, but I can’t.” He explains. “I have to deal with this as fast as possible if you’re to come back quickly.”

“… Will you visit me over there, at least?” you frown.

“Yes. As soon as I have a chance, I’ll go see you.” Naoya promises.

It had all been too soon, just a few hours ago he arrived at the estate, and now, you’re leaving. Naoya laments that he couldn’t spend a day with you before your departure… but he guesses this to be a rightful sacrifice for your well-being.

“I wouldn’t dream of keeping away from my wife and baby for too long.”

At those words, Eiichi couldn’t help but frown out of sorrow.

It wasn’t fair that neither of you had been able to enjoy this wonderful occasion as you should.

He still remembers the excitement in your voice, the glint in your eye, and the beaming smile on your lips when announcing your pregnancy—alongside the nerves that came with it, of course, which Eiichi eased by reminding you and Naoya that their enthusiasm was nothing but indicative they were already on their way of becoming the loving and supportive parents their baby needed.

But as excited as both were, Eiichi had to cruelly put a stop to their celebrations, especially after Naobito was made aware of this, who wished to proceed by announcing the news to the whole community.

“I have to disagree, Naobito.” Eiichi would be the first to reject the idea, much to everyone’s surprise—yours, specifically.

“And why is that?” He’d ask back, not understanding why the father of the expecting mother, of all people, would be the one to reject so.

“It’s best if Y/N keeps her pregnancy a secret, at least… until it’s undeniably noticeable.”

“But… why, dad?” you asked. This was a moment of absolute joy, to be treated as such! So why did he intend to keep it a secret? Was he… disappointed?

No. Never. He was nothing but happy to see you happy and become a grandfather himself for the first time in his life!

But as a man of his years, he’s learned to be cautious of how said blessings are to be celebrated, as well as seen his fair share of happiness turn sour… things that Eiichi would rather take upon him than allow them to ever befall you.

“Because there’s people out there that might try to hurt you—or the baby.” He’d explain. “Naobito cannot not deny this, but if anyone hears that you’re pregnant with the Zen’in heir’s baby, those that want to hurt the Zen’in clan, or our family, will see this as the perfect opportunity to do so.”

“I’d never allow such thing, rest assured, there’s no safer place than—” Naoya quickly interjects, wanting to reassure your father, but Eiichi was set on his warnings.

“I wouldn’t have said this if I didn’t see it myself.” Eiichi reminds him, Naoya swallows. “We live in a highly competitive world due to the nature of our families; I’ve lost my wife because of this! And I’d be damned to allow it to happen again to my daughter.”

He hated to remind you of the harsh truth; hated to see how your face would sadden, the excitement for your first child, his first grandchild, quickly disappearing…

“Why would someone do that?” you murmur, frowning.

“They wouldn’t dare—I’ll make sure of it.” Naoya hisses.

Eiichi remained silent, sad for you and your husband. Because even if you’ve experienced first-hand what it is to lose someone through these matters, both have yet to fully understand the extremes those supposedly loyal to them can go to if properly incited. Especially for someone who had so much to lose, just as the elite members of prestigious Zen’in clan.

Even then, your father would not allow such pain to reach you, not the same way it almost did to him and your mother, so, he insisted you keep these news secret from the world—and if you must, only if you must, reveal it to your most faithful ones; the rest could learn when your stomach was too big to deny.

If you do so, keep your baby hidden from the world, safe from those that harbor nothing but pain and sorrow… all will be fine. Eiichi promises so.

…

Or so, that’s what everyone hoped would’ve happened, because if there’s one thing to be learned from this incident, is that no matter how cautious you were, word of your pregnancy still managed to land in the wrong ears, and now, were actively against it.

The question no longer pertained as to how, but rather, who; who was the author of this terrible act?

The notion that someone of Naoya’s relatives, indirectly informed through Naobito’s… drunken rambles, soon crosses the minds of your father and husband. If so, it would make sense as to why they’d use an innocent staff member to do the deed, keep their hands clean of the whole situation, instead of going to bigger extremes.

It’s the most probable of the theories, but they could not annul the following: jealousy from the servants.

Naoya considered that statement to be the most delusional one your father could’ve gathered, but he’d be wise to remember how others perceive him—or more like what he represented. It wouldn’t be too far-fetched that others would desire what he had, or him, in some cases. And naturally, you’re an obstacle to that goal, your baby even more so…

It wasn’t fair, but it was your reality.

Nonetheless, Eiichi and Naoya will still do whatever it takes to keep you safe.

“It’s just for a few days, pumpkin.” Your father would say upon seeing the sadness in your face, which remained even when reassured that Naoya would be with you as soon as possible. “Besides, you’re going to see your brother and sister too—they’ve missed you very much, you know? They’ve been wanting to spoil you and their future niece, or nephew!”

You smile, it’s good that even when in the storm, your family is still able to exude happiness. You could only imagine how enthusiastic they’d be when the baby was finally here.

“I know… I missed them too.” You admit, before looking over to Naoya one last time. “Well… I hope that whatever is keeping you here is quickly dealt with.”

“You won’t even notice I’m gone.” Naoya promises, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about anything—before you know it, you’ll be back at the estate, with me.”

That’s a promise he unfortunately, doesn’t know if will become true inside the promised timeline, but will do anything in his power so it does.

Either way, it’s safe to say that Naoya did manage to keep one part of his promise—and that would be the one where he reassured you wouldn’t even notice his absence, done through sending you endless amounts of gifts, every day, effectively filling your room to the brim with all things he’d knew you’d like, and some for baby too: from clothes for you, to cute onesies he’d like his baby to wear when she was finally here.

“You still think the baby is going to be a girl?” you’d ask through one of the many videocalls he’d make—one daily, at the very least. “Wait a minute… you better not have spoiled me!”

“I just know” He reiterates with shrug; you roll your eyes. “If not, then I’ll have lots of things to return.”

“Well, if it’s worth anything, I also feel like our baby is going to be a girl.” You smile, warming up Naoya’s heart. “I can’t wait to meet her—I just know she’s going to have your eyes!”

“Or yours, I hope.” He longs, you blush. “Have you been eating well, my love?”

“Yes; and no allergies yet.” You explain, Naoya feels relieved—at least the problem didn’t follow you there. “Maybe I was just unlucky that day, Naoya… Are you sure I can’t return to the estate yet?”

“Not until I’m sure you’re going to be safe here.” Naoya responds, and while his words are meant to be comforting, you can’t shake off the sense that something worse happened; that something far bigger than a simple allergy had struck you, specially with the way your staff and family would act around you, going as far as denying you of any information pertaining to the Zen’in.

But… if your husband had a reason to not say anything now, then the best you could do is trust him. The truth will come out eventually, you suppose. So instead you could focus on other pressing matters.

“Well, at least don’t send me too many gifts.” You continued. “While I appreciate them, between you and my father, I don’t think my house has enough room to store all the things you’ve both given me.”

“Who’s given you more things? Me or your dad?” Naoya nonchalantly asks, you gasp.

“Naoya! That’s not the—take it seriously! Control yourself with the gifts, ok?” you say, he chuckles, but ends up agreeing; at least until the topic has quieted down, because there’s no way in hell he’s going to let your father win the upper hand like that one day ever again. “Or at least save them to when I’m back at the estate… which I hope is soon.”

“Almost there.” Naoya says. “Just a few more things, and we’ll be together once again.”

… even if the answer was to be the same, you still needed to ask.

“Is… everything ok?”

Not precisely, not when he has yet to find out the one responsible for all this…

But he’s gotten a lead, an idea of where to start, of who to hunt—which he knows he’ll find in record time thanks to the fury he harbors, further motivating him to do this as quickly and precisely as possible just so he’d have you back home, with him.

“Nothing you should worry about.” He reiterates. “Just keep focusing on your health, the baby, and not doing anything strenuous.”

“I’m just pregnant, Naoya… nothing extraordinary. I still want to help around., you know?”

“I know, and you’ll be able to do that and more in due time, but for now, keep safe, for me, ok? And our little mochi.”

“When will I see you again?” you ask again, hoping that perhaps this time around, the answer will be different.

“Soon.” He promises. “Soon, my love.”

Once he deals with the bastard that hurt you.

Naoya will give them nothing but a glimpse of the sorrow and pain they’d put you through, his fury—make their life a living hell, make them regret the foolish idea that they could ever get away from it; and still, he doesn’t think he’ll be satisfied with his revenge.

He’d want more, he’d want everyone to know that his family are not ones to mess around with.

He’d burn the whole world to set the message across if necessary—and that would only be the bare minimum for you, the love of his life, and now, his baby…

His home.

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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lot-of-nothing · 6 months

Text

Entwined (Ch. 1)

Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Since your youth, the relationship between Melissa and you has been complicated. In all of your years knowing her, she just can't admit that she isn't as straight as she thinks.

Warnings: Toxic Melissa, smut, and very veiled internalized homophobia

Authors Note: If ya like it, let me know and I'll write more.

On and off.

That’s how you would describe your relationship with Melissa to your closest friends. They would inevitably roll their eyes and make a face, annoyed with how Melissa had you wrapped around her finger.

It started in high school. She would start dating a new guy, he would leave her unsatisfied in more ways than one, and then she would find those missing pieces of her relationship in you.

You were best friends after all…. and best friends would do anything for each other, right?

The first night you spent together was always vivid in your memories. Her green eyes flashing with mischief before she took your hand and pulled it to her thigh. Mel told you how badly she was aching, how it was almost painful. That she needed her best friend to help resolve what her boyfriend couldn’t.

She knew about your sexual orientation. She knew how hard it was for you to date. When you hesitated, Mel said it was like practicing for when you had a girlfriend. Only if she knew how beautiful you found her to be… that she was only making things harder for you.

Young and naive, you gladly accepted her offer - desire flooding your senses as soon as she drew your hands to her body. She guided you through every motion and step, telling you exactly what she liked. Like a sponge, you soaked up every word and memorized every fraction of her body. Never wanting to forget a thing.

Little did you know the knowledge would come in handy again… and again… and again.

—

“I should probably get going.” Mel breathed as she pushed herself into an upright position. You had been bathing in the afterglow of your sexual dalliance when you must have looked at her too yearningly. She didn’t want you getting too attached.

“I wouldn’t mind if you stayed. It’s no big deal.” You tried to shrug off her wanting to leave so soon. It was best if you played it cool rather than let her know how much you really wanted her after all these years.

It was clear she didn’t give much thought to your statement. Slipping out from under your sheets, Melissa snatched up her underwear and bra from the floor. She was always in such a rush after you were finished, “I don’t want the neighbors gettin’ the wrong idea.”

That's what she had always told you - ‘I’m not gay.’

For years, you always had a biting remark in return.

‘Yeah. It’s not like you just spent a half hour between my legs or anything.’

“What? Worried they might think you’re gay?” Your words were twinged with venom. Now, rather than wait for her to make the excuse, you threw it back in her face. It always irked you that she could say such a thing to you given all you had experienced with one another.

“A woman can enjoy the company of women and not be gay.”

You scoffed, unable to contain yourself, “You’re delusional.”

Melissa’s lip curled and her brow furrowed. She always hated when you would get pissy with her, so she decided to snap back at you as she clipped her bra in the back, “I don’t need your shit, okay? I came here for a good time after my shitty date.”

You faked a smile and let the sarcasm drip from your tongue. “Glad to help.”

—

You knew the relationship wasn’t healthy, but this is how it always went.

She would call. She would come over. You would fuck. She would want to leave right after. You would get pissed. Then you wouldn’t speak until she wanted back in your bed.

—

You gathered saliva in your mouth and then pushed your tongue between her folds, drenching Melissa’s sweet cunt in your spit.

After the last sexual dalliance, you told yourself you wouldn’t end up on your knees for her again. But 45 minutes ago you received a partial nude from the redhead, and she had you reeled back in once more. It was a scandalous picture of her standing in front of her bedroom mirror with her hand between her legs. The caption she sent with the photo was ‘Missing you.’

While it was infuriating she could send a picture at random like that, you were in your car minutes later ready to drive over to her house.

Your hands gripped behind her knees, keeping a gentle pressure to make sure she was spread wide for you. Her hands were buried in your hair to prevent you from lifting your face away from her swollen heat. But in all honesty, you weren’t planning on going anywhere until she came all over your tongue.

“Oh, fuck!” Mel whined, pushing her hips up to grind against your face. Her enjoyment made you smile, and sadly, a small ounce of hope lingered in the back of your mind that maybe you could fuck her good enough that she would want to be with you.

“Yesyesyesyes… God, you are incredible.” Melissa hissed out, chasing her orgasm through rough bucks of her hips.

You pulled back, fighting against the grip for her hands. You provided her with a singular lick to her cunt and then paused, teasing her, “You want to come?”

“Yes~”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, please.”

“Good girl…” You hummed, pulling away entirely to retrieve the strap.

—

She had barely recovered from taking a pseudo-rage filled fucking when she crawled from bed. Her legs wobbled underneath herself as she wrapped herself in a robe, trying to make it clear a third round wouldn’t be an option. “I guess you better be goin’.”

“Sounds good.” You took the hint with grace, choosing to let her statement roll off your back rather than stewing on it. You slipped from the bed, unclasped Melissa’s strap (that she kept around just for you), and tossed the sex toy on the bed. You then proceeded to get ready in silence, not offering anything to Melissa that might display your displeasure.

The redhead was slowly unnerved by your silence as you zipped up your trousers and pulled your shirt over your head. She stared at her nail beds, trying to start casual conversation, “Gary proposed.”

You glanced up at her quickly, brow furrowed in angry questioning. While you were not proud of how easily Mel could reel you in, you wouldn’t have come if she was still in a relationship let alone engaged.

Melissa noticed your incredulous look and finished explaining, “I said no.”

You breathed out a scoff as you tucked your phone in your back pocket and scooped up your sweater off the floor. “That sounds about right.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Melissa was clearly unhappy with your tone, but you refused to glance her way - slightly enraging her further.

Swiping your wallet and car keys from the bedside table you finally glanced over to where Mel sat on the edge of the bed. It was difficult to tell if she was more angry or embarrassed by your criticism, “I’ve learned the hard way, Mel. You’re hardly one to be tied down by something as trivial as love.”

Melissa was left speechless by your blatant honesty, and she could only stare as you gave her a curt nod, “I’ll see you around.”

—

She wasn’t gone for a half hour when you received a text from her - ‘Again tomorrow night? ;)’

It immediately forced you to roll your eyes. How you loved and hated that she was like this. One moment she would be so oppositional to any form of attachment, and then the moment someone ‘played hard to get’ with her, she would be fiending for their attention.

What was worse is that you were no better than her. You replied almost automatically - ‘I am off at 4. Come over whenever.’

Link to Chapter 2

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #toxic relationship #if you like the fic then let me know. it was fun to write :)

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kelin-is-writing · 3 months

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Some of you… Guys… who lack empathy and overall emotional intelligence, kinda love to run your mouth waaaaaay too much and end up saying things that make 0 sense. This fandom is also waaaaay too comfortable with victim blaming Rei and Touya for everything that has happened to the Todorokis while Endeavor gets away with it, for no reason at all at that.

“OhHh BuT hE fElLs SoRrY fOr EvErYtHiNg He DiD”

I’m going to be completely honest with you all: I don’t give a flying fuck that he’s now swimming in his sorrows. He better be drowning in them actually. Because there’s a consequence to everything we do. ALWAYS. Besides, if he was going to feel ohh so sorry about what he did to his family, then he simply shouldn’t have done none of it to begin with.

He can’t go on fill his child like a balloon the way he did and then expect said balloon to not explode after he had blew way too much air into it. That’s egotistical.

You also can’t buy your wife (who was still a minor at the time), have her pop out kids like she’s some kind of kids machine for your greedy needs and even force two of them on her before you go ahead and start physically and mentally abusing her, then expect for there to not be any repercussions on your family’s relationships.

Blaming a kid who got his whole life and being manipulated and then gaslighted by his own father, who remembered he indeed had an eldest son only when it was too late, and a woman who was sold to a greedy, egotistical, egocentric, narcissistic and selfish man when she was a kid who had one option worse than the other (We all know that the Himuras ain’t any more sane than Endeavor) is so weird guys, please.

Touya was treated like a human weapon by his own father, who as soon as he saw no more use in him and his quirk just casted the kid aside (which was before Natsuo was even conceived btw). So where’s the favoritism in this? Where? Because I can’t see it anywhere, no matter how hard I look for it. And why is that? Because there’s none. So you lot can stop being delusional about this topic, ‘cause it doesn’t stand up not even if you force it. You can’t erase the manipulation (into making him think he could become the #1 Hero, surpass All Might for his father and be the strongest) and then the gaslighting (telling him he can’t do any of that anymore since his quirk won’t permit it, telling Touya he should give up on his dream because it will never happen after Endeavor ingrained all that into his mind) just like that, then call all of this favoritism. Do you all even know what favoritism is? Or you just find out words on the Internet, ignore completely their meaning, and run with them blindly? Because I am bewildered by how some of you guys be coming on here to just say anything… Touya got failed by his parents and his siblings, because he was ignored and neglected by his siblings as much as he was by his parents (Shoto excluded because Endeavor was busy grooming him this time around) but none of you guys even call them out on Touya going through all of that alone, for some reason, while being okay with what Natsuo and Fuyumi told him as soon as they got into the battlefield. Like they ain’t bad siblings too and Endeavor wasn’t the reason they all lost each others as a family, literally do not piss me off I beg. I’m firmly convinced some of you guys pick and choose who you defend in the Todofam, but like… Everything you guys say makes no sense? It just shows me that some of you lack, as I said at the very beginning of the post, empathy and emotional intelligence. Which is sad.

You all can say “We’ve all gone through hard times alone” as much as you want, but that is not normal at all, towards any time of relationship but especially towards family. It’s not healthy and it can hurt a person a lot, making them close in themselves and when it starts to hurt from the inside the moment you stop getting all of the pent up stress inside it’s no good at all. And for the record, Touya (or just anyone) venting or opening himself to Natsuo about what he’s going through it’s not trauma dumping. It’s never trauma dumping if you genuinely care for someone (clarifying this before any of you emotional ignorant peoples come at me about this 🫠). So Natsuo and Fuyumi being in all of this too shouldn’t be used as an excuse for pushing their brother’s concerns and feelings under the rug, families are supposed to go through these type of situations as a family if they want to keep living happily as such, but they remembered this after one of them died and their youngest sibling was being still raised as a fighting machine by their abusive father. So, mind you, but they all (except Shoto) owe Touya some big ass apologies written down on a letter with tears if I gotta be honest.

As for Rei; she became a mother young, went through a lot all alone because mind you Mr. Husband was waaaaay too busy trying to groom their son into a Hero machine that could beat someone he is incapable of beating (Because a nullity will always be a nullity after all, even when becoming a #1 after the former #1 retirement, if they insist on projecting ofc) to help and guide his young and inexperienced wife through a wedding like theirs. How was she supposed to not lose her mind after being sold, neglected, beaten up, verbally abused, forced to pop out kids like a gachapon, seeing her fourteen years old son lose himself into the void because of his father and then he dies too, without never getting love nor affection from his father (the one he looked up to) the way a kid wants, needs and is supposed to get which is something I’m 100% sure led her to depression. You all diminish too much the grief a mother feels when she loses her kids. There’s much a mother, a human, can handle; and for Rei it got to a point where every trace of Endeavor disgusted her so much her whole body rejected his entire existence leading her to a mental breakdown. One that was due to come earlier if we think about it, but she was strong enough for her remaining kids until she couldn’t do it anymore. What she did to Shoto is wrong, I know and I acknowledge, but she’s a traumatized person who sees her abuser everywhere she goes because, unfortunately, it’s the person she was forced to marry. She apologized to Shoto right away, because she was still mature and sane enough to recognize her mistake right when it happened.

But Endeavor’s ego is so big that it took him his eldest son nearly blowing everyone up and becoming a walking torch before he finally apologized to the whole family for his wrong doings of 10 years prior. Which is crazy to me.

So I’m gonna need you all to stop erase Endeavor’s wrongdoings and try to gaslight the whole fandom into blaming Rei and Touya for the mistakes of someone else, because they’re the biggest victims in all of this shit.

That being said, hope y’all get well soon 🫶🏻💜

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purplepickles · 1 year

Text

“Under The Covers”

Pairings: Central cee x black fem reader

Genre: fluff

Authors Note: it’s my first time writing on tumblr so bare with me I also haven’t haven’t written anything in like years I used to a Wattpad author in like 2017-2019😭 so imagine what I used to be writing. It’s not my best peice of work but it’s progress kinda messy icl in terms of storyline but it’s something anyways I hope everyone enjoys it 💗

You had just signed a contract with vogue for a new segment they were trying out for they’re YouTube channel called “Under the Covers”. It was in a podcast style in a bedroom setting hence the name and basically talking about the latest fashion trends tips or anything black girl related.

You were so grateful for this opportunity never in your life would you have imagine a little black girl from London was able to sign a massive deal with vogue. The topic of todays video was maintenance. How you maintain standards for yourself if that means relationship, mental or physical health. So instead of it being in their studio you wanted your video being a bit more homely so why not in your home. The producers had set everything up in your room making sure everything was ready for filming but this video was going to have a little extra twist. You were going to have your very first guest and they how they managed to maintain their life and overall humbleness with the fame he had gained over the years.

You kept your relationship on the down low on the respect of each other careers and not wanting to surround your relationship over it. You were actually calm with that but he wasn’t liking seeing people he fucked with in your dms with heart eyes.

Little did Yn know he was going to announce it in their video together.

“Okay I’m going to count down from 5 and we’ll start filming” said the producer

“Hi Vogue it’s me Yn/ln and welcome to our new segment called Under the covers where uncover beauty secrets fashion and every black girl related. But today’s video things are little different we’re in my actual bedroom and I have a special guest with us he’s one of my favourites rappers right now a current world wide sensation Central Cee”

“I didn’t know I was your favourite artist”

“Yes you did you’re also my most listened to artist on Spotify we’ve defo talked about this”

“Mhmmm”

You rolled your eyes and continued with the video

“Anyways let’s get straight into todays topic: maintenance. How to do maintain eye yourself to keep your life somewhat stable”

“I guess keeping my mum,my brothers, my fans and my girl happy innit. If they’re happy I’m happy” said central cee never straying away from eye contact from the love of his life

“And what you say is the hardest one to keep happy and why” Yn was very curious about this who knew where this could go

“My girl defo she’s says I’m annoying I think she hates me”

The way your head slowly snapped

“Did you not say at Amelia Dinner Date you like girls you hate you”

“Yh I did I turns me on but she’s just something Yk I’m just infatuated by her but maybe I’m a bit delusional when it comes to her yk idk if that’s a good thing or bad thing. Kinda new to this love thing and not messing up yk I don’t wanna get it wrong again I really like her”

That was probably the most beautiful thing he’s said in a while she didn’t know he felt like this she sometimes she can be a bit rude and her sarcasm can be taken the wrong way but she thought he knew between the lines that she didn’t hate him she lived more than anything.

“I think you should talk to her about your feeling more Yk. Don’t be shy on opening up more Yk. When you feel ready ask her what she thinks it’s possibly lacking” she smiled at him with reassurance hoping that he could through her eyes that’s it okay and she was listening

“Yh your right imma tell her right now!”

Yn chocked on her drink. He could not be serious. She should’ve known this boy was up to something

“As in right now!? I’m sure she’s busy” you said trying to get to him to change his mind

“Nah she’s not im calling her rn”

For someone who didn’t like interviews this but sure had a lot to say

Ring

Your phone was on the other side of the room Ringing none stop.

Everyone was looking at you. You knew the producers were loving this but you were not this was too much.

Ring

“Yn are you gonna pick up you phone”

you usually loved his smile but this was just devious.

“Do I have to” you were just dreading this

Everyone shouted yes. You rolled out bed and a grabbed the phone

“Hi baby”

“Hi cench, now can we get back to the video please”

“Yes Cench we can. You wanna cuddle too?”

The video was going well there was laughter within the whole room. You asked him the question that you were assigned to ask him everything was going great. You loved being under your lovers arms. Maybe letting people in wasn’t so bad.

“Thank you vogue for this absolutely-

A knock on the door you both looked at door and someone opened to little boy running in crying and jumping to Oakley’s arm. How many surprises could one video take you said to yourself in your head.

“What’s up little man” Oakley now went into full father mode his whole rapper persona was switched and all he cared about was understanding why his little boy was upset

“Had a bad dream” said the little one

“How about we say goodbye to vogue and make some hot chocolate” you said while trying to tickle him

“Right I think me and vogue has had enough surprises don’t forget to like subscribe and hit that notification and stay tuned for next weeks video about Motherhood and Careers with a icon mother and billionaire. Bye guys”

#central cee #central cee x reader #centralcee inagines #central cee x you #central cee x Yn

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teabutmakeitazure · 5 months

Text

Dissimulation - Continued Again

>Yan! Mafia! Childe x Fem! Student! Reader (Modern au)

>Word Count: 9.2k

>a/n: word vomit. i love him sm and i love having him do mental gymnastics just to get the girl (to get laid) also I wrote this in numerous pieces and by the writing changes you can tell lol. copium during finals. can't believe it's almost been a whole year since this fic was first published. also, I've had the same injury described later on. it bled a lot i thought i was gonna die.

Warnings: firearms, hidden blood kink, licking (I will not elaborate) childe doesn't like pillows, read at your own discretion

Part 1 | Continuation | reason why Childe #1 husband

Childe is waiting in the car.

That’s the thought that keeps repeating in your head. Honestly, it’s your fault. You insisted he not come with you inside, even going as far as getting mad at him when he initially refused. It’s only fair that you suffer the consequences of your actions.

You can still feel the muzzle of the revolver despite the layer of cloth separating it from your spine. How do you know it’s a revolver? Well, the bastard spun it before pressing it to your lower back. You’ve played enough video games to know what that sound belongs to.

“Stop walking so slow. Move it.”

You internally scoff at his words. If you move any faster, it’ll just be more suspicious. Well, good for you. If it’s suspicious then there’s a higher chance someone might intervene.

“To the right, right there.”

You do as he says. It’s not very tempting to disobey when there’s a loaded gun on your back. The man leads you down a small alleyway away from the hustle of the outdoor market. It’s dark, and there’s a pipe leaking somewhere. This is when dread really settles in, but you put on a brave face despite your trembling lip.

You hear the man click his tongue before ordering you to stop walking. The muzzle is still pressed to your spine, and he pulls out his phone with his free hand to call someone. “I got the girl here, so now you do your part.” Someone speaks on the other side, angering him. “You’re being delusional! This is the perfect chance,” he whisper-yells. “I got the girl here, so if things go bad, I shoot. We’ll at least do some damage.”

Shoot…? What the fuck did you get yourself into?

“The next time you call me back, it better be because the bastard’s dead or he’s given up.” With that, he angrily hangs up and shoves the phone in his pocket. You’re left facing the dead end of the alleyway, your captor behind you with his back to the only exit and entrance. “So,” he starts, “where did you first meet him?”

You decide to test the waters. From what you gathered so far, you are valuable until the other guy fails in what he’s supposed to do (which you have no clue of). “Me?” You feign innocence. “Meet who?”

He presses the muzzle even harder into you, making you stumble a step forward. “Don’t play dumb with me. Even if I kill you right now, it won’t affect anything. So tell me, where did you first meet him?”

You gulp nervously, heart beating in your throat. “T-the convenience store. It was a random occurrence.”

“And you knew who he was?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Hah. Stupid girl. Do you not know you’re the one usually targeted when he makes enemies? That you’re the face that comes up when he pisses someone off?”

Gaze dropping to the ground, you can’t help but think of all the kind things he’s done for you so far as you answer. “I had no choice.”

He clicks his tongue. “What, so he forced you to be his girlfriend?”

“I’m not his girlfriend…”

“So you’re just a pretty lady he keeps around?” Amusement is evident in his tone. He’s messing with you before he kills you. “Considering how expensive it was to find out about you, you’re damn special. If there’s one thing I know about Tartaglia, it’s that he’s not the type to keep a girl around for nothing or just her body. And that’s precisely why you’re in this situation.”

If you’re going to die anyway, you might as well say it. Ah, sorry mama. Couldn’t help it. “You think I’m pretty?”

Surprisingly, he takes it well. “I won’t deny you have a pretty face. I can see why he’d go to lengths to keep you a secret, but nothing can be hidden forever. Don’t worry. I won’t hurt your face when I kill you.”

Great. Now there’s stinging behind your eyes. This really is it. Maybe you should’ve told your parents you love them last night. Shit, is this really the end? So much for wanting to buy a birthday present from the market. Now you won’t live to see your next birthday.

The man groans out of annoyance, hand diving into his pocket to fish out his phone. “How long is he going to take…” You can hear him aggressively tapping at the device, and you wait for him to start whisper-yelling on the phone again but all that comes is the muzzle being removed from your back as something loudly whizzes through the air, and he lets out a silent cry of pain.

Something behind you falls to the ground with a thud, and judging how his voice seems to come from elsewhere, he’s the one who fell. “No, don’t come closer. I’ll shoot! I swear I will!”

You stay still, unknowing of what’s going on. Panic overtakes your senses, and your hands start trembling as you start feeling sick. Your body is going into fight or flight, and you really want it to choose flight. As you bring your trembling hands up into your view, a familiar voice calls out from behind.

“[Name], darling. Stay as you are. Don’t turn around.”

You freeze at Childe's words, immediately pressing your palms to your ears to block out some sound only to end up making it slightly muffled. The man is spewing profanities at him, trying to get on his nerves. “You scared of your toy dying? Is that why you’re here? Or maybe you were scared we’d take your little toy away from you? Do all the things to her you do but worse?”

Footsteps lightly grow closer, likely stopping by the man writhing on the ground, clutching his leg. Something clatters to the side, presumably the revolver he may have been pointing at Childe. When Childe speaks, his voice is laced with venom. “The girl is mine.” The man grunts, and Childe continues. “You have no idea how badly you’ve set me off. You better start praying to whatever you believe in.”

You cringe when you hear Childe kick him, heart beating even faster than before. Nausea tugs at you, making your eyes lose focus as you resist the urge to throw up or fall to your knees. Hands are still pressed to your ears when a body comes to stand behind you, yet it’s when arms wrap around you that you horribly flinch and move to elbow whoever it is, hyperventilating as you struggle to be freed.

However, Childe’s voice whispers in your ear, instantly making you relax. “It’s me.”

You are way too panicked to say anything useful. “Yes. Alright. It’s you. Not anyone else. Okay. Okay.”

One of his hands moves to cover your eyes, and he instructs you to keep them closed as he leads you out. The other hand is on your shoulder, and when you are away from the alley, he uncovers your eyes. Childe leads you to the market, stopping when you both enter its busy environment. He pulls out his phone, presses it to his ear without even dialling or accepting any call and hastily spews out the location of where you were earlier, firmly telling whoever it is on the other side to ‘deal with it’.

Nausea still stirs inside you, making you sick. You can feel the ghost of the muzzle pressing against you, and although you weren’t so horrified by it when it was actually happening, you are now.

Once again, Childe’s attention is back on you. His eyes focus on you solely, forgetting the busy environment around him and forgetting the issue he was addressing on the phone. He looks… concerned. Like a mother hovering over her child, he grabs your face with both hands, turning it side to side and carefully eyeing your features. He then pulls you into a hug, but you are too busy hearing your heartbeat in your ears to reciprocate and simply hide your face in his jacket instead.

“I’m so relieved,” he whispers. “Did he say anything to you? Hurt you? Touch you?”

After a shaky inhale, you focus your gaze on a random light source, willing away the sickness in your stomach. “No. Just a gun to my back. That’s it.”

“I am so sorry.”

Unfortunately, the nausea does not relent. “It’s fine.”

He holds you tighter. “It’s not fine. You were in danger.”

Though his warmth is comforting, you cannot move to hold him back. You can taste bile in your mouth, and you start profusely swallowing, yet Childe continues voicing his regrets. “I should have come with you. I shouldn’t have listened to you-”

Your voice shakes when you interject, the fear of what else might go wrong in public. “Quiet, please. I’ll throw up.” Your request is met with him gently rubbing your back, ignoring any glances from onlookers. When he feels that you are somewhat calm, you are led back to the car, the air conditioning turned on and your seat reclined as you cover your eyes with your forearm.

You don’t know why you feel sick and you don’t know why you keep thinking of a bleeding wound, infected and deep enough to show muscle and sinew. Worst of all, you don’t know what you should do now. Should you just ask to go home? Should you go back in? Get what you came here for?

Maybe you’ll come back later, with Childe. There’s still some time in your friend’s birthday and you can get her something later or make something instead. Yeah. That sounds right.

“Feeling any better?”

Your companion’s question makes you grumble. There are so many things that go wrong these days. Your relationship with him seems to loom over you like a raincloud wherever you go. Always accompanying you like a blight on your existence. It also does not help that information about you had initially come to light because he bought the house you both currently live in a week before you made that deal with him.

You still remember that conversation in great detail. When you had finally got to the airport, what waited for you when you came back haunted you throughout the journey. This arrangement isn’t something you were looking forward to. Remaining a student on a tight budget who eats instant ramen half the time for dinner would have been more preferable.

“Is there any way I can help? Do you need anything?” Childe voices more questions, but this time you don’t feel annoyed at him. If anything, you should be thankful. Sure, that occurred because of him, but he did save you.

Hand reaching to set the seat upright, you mentally go over the words you want to say. Now facing him, Childe gives you a curious look before you speak, the edges of your lips already stuck together. “I’m sorry.” He looks taken aback, but you continue. “I’ll… I’ll listen to you next time. And thank you for saving me. I had already said my prayers and apologised to my parents in my head, so thank you for letting that go to waste. I would rather it not be useful.”

Childe blinks. With a chuckle, he smiles, giving you that typical lovestruck expression he has when you do something he finds endearing. “And I personally wouldn’t know how to break it to your parents. Not after your mom asked me to look out for you.” The reminder leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, yet Childe still has something to say. “Of course. You don’t ever need to thank me. As long as you’re mine, alive and healthy, I don’t need anything else.”

The confession makes your eyes widen, and when you open your mouth to question his words, he cuts you off. “Do you want to get what you came here for or do you want to go home?”

“Home,” you reply immediately.

He nods, a hand reaching over to grab your seat belt. The action makes your heart skip a beat - “out of surprise,” you tell yourself - yet Childe does not mind. He fastens his own seat belt after yours and promptly moves to reverse the car out of the parking lot.

It is halfway through the way that you voice your thoughts, and Childe seems to hesitate.

“We have snacks at home,” he says.

Him and his healthy habits be damned. “You mean fruits. I don’t want fruits.”

“They’re healthy. You need nourishment.”

“What am I? A plant?”

Childe holds in a laugh with an awkward cough, a smile still there. “No, but you are a very dear person. I’ll cut some apples into bunny shapes, and we can eat the oranges I got yesterday. I’ll peel them for you, like always.”

Unfortunately for him, you do not yield, even going as far as to use his name since it usually makes him more submissive. “Ajax, I almost died tonight. I would like to be able to binge eat a bag of chips as I ease my worries.”

He negotiates again, albeit weakly. “Darling, you have a habit of stress eating. I know you can’t help it, but I just want to make sure you’re at least eating things that are good for you.”

“A bag of chips just this once wouldn’t hurt.”

You can see the gears turning in his head, and with a sigh, he concedes. “Fine. But only because you want to and have been eating well without complaints these past few weeks.”

The words seem like a parent pointing out a child on their diet, gentle yet still delivering the message. Despite everything, you would never admit that ever since he started butting into what you eat, your skin doesn’t break out as much and you’re almost always hydrated. He doesn’t need to hear the positive effects his presence has on your life from your own mouth. And he sure as hell doesn’t need to know that his hydration checks throughout the day are the reason why you drink water.

Yesterday, Chil- Ajax asked you something you could not say no to.

You keep justifying your acceptance with it being a sort of payback for him saving your life the other day even though you know you’re scared of saying no to him. Or maybe you just wanted to repay his kindness. It’s not like you asked for his kindness, but he is giving it to you. Goodness, the way he looks at you sometimes when you talk is just… if you didn’t know any better, you’d describe it as creepy.

But it isn’t. It isn’t creepy because the amount of genuine love in his eyes is just ridiculous. How can someone look at a person with so much love knowing they don’t reciprocate to that intensity? How can they be okay with that? You know Ajax is absolutely, positively in love with you. There’s no doubt about it.

You know so much about his family, and he’s always finding an excuse to talk to you. He asks you to talk to him because he likes your voice, and he sometimes stays in the room while you talk to your parents because he wants to see you be carefree in conversation.

He always gets you what you want without you knowing. Heck, he even gave you a credit card linked to his account! You don’t use it, but he gave it to you.

Back to the topic. You’re going out for dinner with him tonight as a date. You both leave at 7: 15 pm on the dot, and it is currently 6. You are freaking out currently too because what did you willingly agree to?

You know that bastard has been locked away in his room for over an hour now. You know he was giddy ever since he got home way too early today because of your evening plans. He’s way too obvious. And desperate. He’s also getting desperate.

There haven't been any romantic advancements in your relationship. You’ve just fallen into a casual routine at this point, and you aren’t bothered when he is there on your bed at any time you turn to look at it, even if you left the door closed. He cooks for you most of the time, and sometimes you mend his clothes so that he doesn’t buy new ones while completely ignoring the magical appearance of a shit load of sewing materials after the first time you did it.

It’s all gotten normal at this point. Seeing his credit card in your wallet every single time you open it, having to look at his mask sitting on a side table in the living room, watching him remove the dual pistols strapped to his body when he gets home, and much more. It’s all normal now. You’re used to it.

Yet your nerves are about to burst because you’re going out for dinner with him in an hour.

Honestly, after the dinner where he licked blood off your finger, you haven’t gone out for food with him since. You mostly eat at home, but the most you guys have done is takeout.

Anyway, what do you do? You don’t want to try hard lest unforeseen and unwanted developments occur, yet you also don’t want to not try at all because it might sour his mood. The latter is unpreferable simply because you can’t bear to see him sad. Maybe you’ll put in a little effort. Not too much but a little.

Had Ajax not been in the mafia, you would have already accepted him. You know you’re delaying the inevitable, that he will get what he wants, but you still can’t help it. Your conscience weighs you down. His identity ties you close to hesitance and denial.

Nevertheless, here you are, a cream coloured maxi skirt flowing till your ankles and a dusty pink blouse with bishop sleeves. You can’t believe you actually wore this. Ajax was the one who gifted the blouse to you, saying something like the colour being nice and wanting to see you wear it.

Well. He’ll get his wish now.

After at least five consecutive minutes of staring into the mirror, you finally decide to put on some makeup. Nothing too much. A simple mascara, blush, and lipstick after whatever you ended up putting on your skin first.

Great! Now, shoes. Shoes…

You fish out a pair of nude sandals with a pointed tip and a one inch heel. Perfect. Seems like your mother giving you her old sandals came in handy. After checking if they fit, you take a look at the clock. There’s still twenty minutes till the clock strikes 7.

Twenty minutes of agony as nerves eat you from the inside.

Right at 7:02 pm, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. Shaking hands unlock the door, opening it to nervously meet eyes with your lovely housemate. He stands on the other side, hair parted in the middle as best it could be. One side is tucked behind his ear while the other hangs on his face, framing his jawline perfectly.

You take note of the black dress shirt and black pants. The sleeves are rolled up and his earring is still there. Also, why is his shirt so fitted? You know he’s ripped. He doesn’t have to rub it in.

“You wore the shirt,” he breathes out.

“It’s a blouse,” you correct.

“Beautiful.”

The way his eyes seem to look you over in awe makes your cheeks heat up. With an awkward clear of your throat, you snap his attention back to your face. “Didn’t you say you made a reservation?”

Ajax perks up at that. “Right! We should leave soon.”

You are then left to grab your bag and sandals while he goes to fish out his car keys and wallet. When you’re seated in the living room, trying to fasten the little buckle on the sandals, Ajax is wistfully staring at you from the kitchen, cheek resting in his palm.

“We would make a cute couple.” A sigh and he looks at your feet, silently wishing you’d ask for his help with it instead. “Do you… need help with that?”

To his not so very surprise, you brush him off. “I’m fine.”

“Huh.” He asks again. “Are you sure?”

“Yup.”

He still wishes you would ask for his help instead. Do you not realise that he would do anything you asked him to? He would willingly get on his knees for you, hands gingerly trailing up your legs before he decides to rest one on his shoulder, the other pulling him towards you as his hand travels upwards and-

“Ajax? It’s almost 7: 15.”

He snaps out of his thoughts instantly. You’re standing near the door now, head tilted in that cute way he adores as you curiously look at him. A hand quickly flicks the kitchen light off as he walks towards the door. This is going to be another test of his patience. He knows it. He just hopes you don’t blame him for anything he might end up doing tonight.

“I don’t get it.”

Childe looks at you curiously only to find you glaring at the open menu. “I don’t know what to get,” you say. “Can you order for me? Whatever you think is good here. You know the stuff I like and don’t like, so I trust you.”

The explicit trust makes him smile. As per your request, Childe orders for you, but it’s something different than his own so that you can try both things. If you like the food, he might even take you out more often. Eating out once in a while shouldn’t hurt. Not if he’s with you.

As he leans back in his seat, he finds you playing with the buttons on your sleeve. Childe hastily utilises the opportunity to scan the indoors, eyes quickly flitting over every single person present. None have noticed either of you, and none seem to be looking at you. Good.

A quiet ding sounds from your phone, the screen turning on for a few moments. You reach for it instantly, but Childe is quicker, his hand covering the device before you could grab it. You obviously look nervous because of the action, but he gives you a small smile.

“No phone while we’re out eating.” The expression on your face doesn’t change, so he adds in something else. “Please?”

You capitulate instantly, and he pulls the device closer to himself with a playful smile. He now has all your attention for this evening dinner. If Childe plays his cards right, he could monopolise this opportunity and possibly convince you more to actually go out with him. Or let him put a ring on your finger. Whichever you’d prefer.

But first…

“I wish we could’ve stayed home instead,” he sighs.

You raise a brow at his expression, simultaneously wondering why he’s looking at you so wistfully here of all places. “Why? Didn’t you want to go out for dinner? You were looking forward to this.”

“Yes but-” He bites his lip for a moment. He isn’t lying. He’s being completely honest, but it still feels a bit weird to be admitting it directly to you. “But… you look so pretty and I don’t like knowing that other people can see you when you look so beautiful.”

It’s the truth. He doesn’t like knowing that anyone and everyone here has access to your existence. That they can simply turn their head and look at you in that skirt. He doesn’t care if it’s till your ankles. You look absolutely enchanting. Childe hates it that anyone can see your collar bones and your curious expression and the way you’re tilting your head at him and the way you’ve started fidgeting with your sleeve already.

All these lovely things about you are supposed to be for him only.

But they aren’t.

And he hates that.

“Hey. Eyes up here.”

He didn’t realise he started staring at your collar bones. God, he hopes you don’t think he was staring at your chest.

“Now that you’re looking into my eyes,” you groan, “I want you to calm down.” Almost instinctively, Childe crosses his arms out of displeasure, but you are quick to cool him down. “No one is looking at me. Nothing even happened and you’re acting all jealous. Calm down.”

“I’m not acting.”

“Then stop overreacting.”

“I am definitely not overreacting.”

You give him a look, the one you usually give him when you know he is keeping something from you, but you would rather not put the effort into digging it out of him. “Right.”

Childe is quick to defend, to put out the bait in hopes you’ll take it. “Sweetheart, you’re beautiful. Of course I’m going to be pressed if other people look at you and think the same.”

You sigh. “We’re only out for dinner.”

“Yes, but I just… I don’t know.” He traces the handle of the cutlery on the table, all the while ignoring how you’re still fidgeting with your sleeves. He’s making you nervous. He shouldn’t be making you nervous.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to burden you with my feelings.” Though you look like you want to say something, Childe beats you to it. “I love you, and I hope you know that I mean that word when I say it. I’m not afraid of saying the bigger word. I never will be.”

Both your hands have disappeared under the table. From the looks of it, you’re clenching them. How nervous are you? But wait. If he helps, if he shows you he can take care of you, then you might just…

Childe gently calls out your name, and you look at him with wide, innocent eyes. Poor thing. He asks you to show him your hands, and you comply. What you do not see coming is him gently grabbing the two before bringing them to cup his face. Childe especially presses the cold fingertips to his warm cheeks, effectively warming them up.

He’s thankful for reserving this relatively small table tucked away in a corner. No one can see your widened eyes and the look of adorable surprise on your face. No one.

Upon receiving no explicit refusal from your end, Childe grows bolder. The palms cupping his cheeks are each delivered a gentle kiss, and when there is no rejection, he moves lower, lips trailing to your wrists. This is when he feels the tug, the panic in the withdrawal. Your left wrist is in his mercy, soft lips tenderly pressed against your pulse, yet you tug your arm in retreat like a wounded animal.

Though it pains him, Childe lets go but only after making eye contact with you for a moment.

The face you give him is akin to one of a mixture of surprise and betrayal, and it dawns on him. This is the first time he’s touched you like this. Childe thinks he may have mixed his fantasies with reality because he did not ask for your permission for doing so. Now that he thinks about it, for a moment, he returns to the dreams and thoughts where he touches you as he pleases, and where you ask him to touch you. Where you climb onto his lap at random times of day and tell him how you are only his. How you want nothing to do with the rest of the world because he is your everything.

The only thing he wants is for those fantasies to become reality. Is that too much to ask for? Is it too selfish for him to ask that of someone so beautiful, so… heavenly?

Despite the shock on your face, you do not verbally express your thoughts. The silence is deafening. Your hands are clutched to your chest, and as the noise of the background fades into nothing but a quiet and continuous rumble, Childe’s thoughts start wandering. The first thing he wonders about is where he has to keep his eyes from straying. Your hands and your chest.

He can’t stop feeling the softness of your skin under his calloused palms. How your pulse felt under his lips. How it might taste if it bled. How warm the red might be. How red it might be.

Childe feels dirty for those thoughts, but he doesn’t care. He would gladly embrace such farcicalities if it meant you being the centre of his attention, your entire being on his mind more than his own existence. Then again, you are his life, no? Then why should he stop himself from thinking about you? Is it not wrong for a believer to not think about their worshipped deity? Likewise, it is wrong of him to forcibly shut your existence out of his wandering and lost thoughts.

Besides, the thought of you is where all his unruly and chaotic thoughts come together and finally make sense. So why should he not look at you like you were made from a piece of his ribs, fragile and the closest to his heart than anything can ever be?

“Ajax,” the name tumbles out of your mouth, and Childe feels like he can hear again. “Please stop staring like that. It’s getting creepy.”

An apology is quickly on his tongue, but you are quick to cut his words off before they can be uttered. “You’re acting a little weird.” He notices the worry on your face and the hands under the table. Childe thinks he doesn’t deserve you, but he’s selfish. Horridly so. “Are you feeling okay? We could go home right after eating if you’re not feeling too good, Ajax.”

You’re soothing him. Like how an owner soothes an unruly pet, you’re soothing him. How indulgent of you. Well, as long as you are thinking of him, he doesn’t mind playing like he’s putting the muzzle back on. You were never the one holding the leash anyway.

“I’m fine,” he replies. “Sorry. I just lost myself for a minute there. Were you saying something earlier?”

“Ah. No. Just… I was just asking if you were okay. I wasn’t saying anything earlier. Before that, I mean.”

Though tension has risen and it clearly shows in how your shoulders have stiffened, Childe cannot bring himself to mind. As long as your eyes are on him and him only, and as long as your voice graces his ears with his name, he won’t mind the discomfort in your countenance. It’s only a matter of time before you completely set aside denial.

It was halfway through dinner that you confessed telling your parents you’ll be home late tonight. This gave birth to an opportunity, and being the man that he is, Childe grabbed onto it like a desperate man. Questions were hushed and trust was exploited as Childe did what he could, what he wanted to do for so long.

The evening sea breeze never felt so good as it does now.

He stands with his arms resting on the railing, yet it feels different this time. It feels less lonely, more fulfilling, even if you both are in a secluded corner of the pier.

The lights from the opposite end of land reflects onto the water, and the smell of salt is in the air. Wind directly hits his face, hair flying back with it, but he’ll deal with the aftermath of it later. Right now, he’s waiting for you to be done with setting your hair so that he can talk to you.

You take a few more minutes to ensure hair doesn’t blow into your mouth or his face before joining his side, albeit at a distance large enough to fit another person which he promptly shamelessly closes. Yet when he turns to look at you, he is met with a raised brow.

“What?”

You’re quick to voice your observation, Childe’s eyes briefly focusing on the half-faded lipstick as he gives you his full attention. “Your hairline is a little uneven.” The sentence makes him chuckle, but you have more to add. “I didn’t think it’d be like that. It’s cute.”

“You’ve seen my forehead plenty of times.”

“I haven’t.”

He tilts his head. “Whenever I get out of the shower, my hair is slicked back. You’ve seen me get out of the shower.”

“Well,” you scrunch up your nose, “you’re shirtless and with only a towel. Why would I look at you then?”

“...” So all the times Childe has purposely walked by you in the living room or dropped off fruit when you’re studying while being fresh out of the shower was in vain. Why is he even surprised? Of course you wouldn’t look. It was daft of him to even consider that you would look. You avoid him like the plague whenever he tries to make a move. That does beg a question. Why have you been surprisingly cooperative tonight?

Are you planning something?

It can’t be. He keeps an eye on you. You go nowhere except class, occasional outings with friends, and shopping. Childe knows where you are at all times and with who and for what, with being the one taking you there. He even had you join that group project meeting online instead of in-person because it was in the evening and your group mates were all guys.

Considering those factors, there is no way you are planning something. He’s made sure of it. Besides, you are perfectly aware that you cannot try anything. Not only do you live with him, but he’s in the mafia. Were you to be missing or run away, you’d be back home before midnight.

There has to be another reason. Maybe you’ve grown more comfortable with him. Yes. That’s it. Perhaps it’s the delusion accompanying the compunction of all that he has done to you, but he believes you’re slowly laying down your defences. All that’s done is to wait till the wall is broken down too.

“Ajax,” you call, lips parting hypnotizingly, lipstick making them stick to the corners, “you’re staring again.” A pause, then you point something out. “You’ve been staring a lot tonight.”

He smiles, face resting on top of his arms crossed over the railing. “I can’t help it. You’re just so pretty.” You make a weird noise at that, but he chuckles. “I’m honoured to be breathing the same air as you. To be so close to you and see you with my own two eyes. I could never have said I’ve seen the world’s beauty before I saw you sitting behind that cash register in the store.”

You seem clearly taken aback at the sudden words. To be honest, Childe is too. He didn’t expect to say all that together. Still, if it conveys even a fraction of the intensity of his emotions, he’d say more.

A strand of hair falls into his eye when the wind calms, and he tries to blink it away. It’s disturbing his view of you. The way you’re looking at him as you think over your words feeds his proprietorial nature, for your words are all his to hear and your being all his to keep. Childe would keep you even if it means he has to hide you from the rest of the world lest you slip from his grasp.

Yet you are so good to him that he always melts at your unexpected surrenders. The time when you sewed up his shirt when he got a long, narrow cut at his side. The time when you made dinner and left some for him before going to bed when he texted you he’ll be home very late. The time you willingly came to him with your worries and let him console you.

And the way you remove the strand of hair that’s in his eye and allow him to look at you without obstructions.

If he could, he’d merge your beings into one so that no one else could ever have you, and you’d be his forever. He isn’t willing to break you to have you, but he is willing to hurt you just a little bit.

But before all that, he needs to figure out a way to make you all his. If it means putting a ring on your finger or faking your death or hiding you away from the world, he doesn’t care. You have to be all his.

From your body to your soul to your thoughts to your feelings to your touch to your very being. All. His.

“Ajax, you’re staring again.”

He stands up straight at that, one hand still grabbing the railing as he takes a step closer to you. This time, he does not smile. “Why don’t you love me?”

You question his sudden change in demeanour, but he presses further. “Why don’t you love me? What’s wrong? Tell me. I’ll fix it. I’ll fix us. Tell me how I can make you love me.”

Childe moves closer, and you instinctively move back, making him frown, but he soon cages you between the railing and his body. There’s not much space between you both, and you’re certain he would be able to hear your heart beat wildly if he moved just a tad bit closer. Nevermind the fact that your skirt is blowing with the wind and his legs are obstructing its path.

“I’m doing everything I know. Just tell me. All I want is your heart. All I want is you.”

You are quick to defend. “I already live with you. What more is there?”

“You,” he replies, breathless. “You don’t love me. You only live with me.”

“Because agreeing to that is why you let me go back home for the summer,” you remind him. “Well, I suppose either way I would have been here. If I said no, you would’ve taken me there earlier.”

“Do you feel trapped?”

“What do you think?”

Childe chuckles at that. Though he is culpable for this predicament, he also holds the power to change it to his favour. “Tell me then,” he whispers, wind once more blowing in his hair, “what do you want?”

Unfortunately for him, you play his game on equal footing. “Would you grant it?”

“No.” The look in your eyes is something smug, but he humours you anyway. “I can’t guarantee I won’t, but I guess it depends on what you ask me.”

A scoff accompanies your words now, the nervousness apparent in the way you grip the railing behind you for dear life. “You’ve told me numerous times you’d give me anything I want. Why are you so hesitant now?”

“Because I know what you are about to ask, and I’m afraid I can’t give you that.”

“And what am I about to ask?”

“To be able to leave me for good,” he spits out.

You simply shake your head. “No. Not at this moment at least.” Confusion laces his features, but you press your body impossibly closer to the railing. “I wanted to ask for some space. It’s… it’s uncomfortable like this. Please take a step back.”

Childe obliges instantly. Blue eyes watch your once white knuckles have colour return to them, and suddenly he feels a little childish for cornering you like that. A quiet sigh from your end steals his attention, yet he remains standing where he is, another demand on the tip of his tongue.

“Move in with me,” he says. “Move into my room. It’s been too long in the guest room already. You don’t need to stay there anymore.”

Frankly, you’re surprised. You thought he forgot about that by now considering that he never brought it up again.

“You’ve seen it. My room is bigger. I got this place because the master bedroom was big and it’ll easily fit both our things. You can make the guest room your study room if you want, but just move in already.”

He gives you that look again, the demanding one that makes you painfully aware of how dull and lifeless his eyes are. Although you have grown used to it and it doesn’t bother you as much, it still reminds you that if he wished, he could have done worse things to you. But he hasn’t. He waits and waits and waits till he’s about to bubble over. Till his feelings threaten to boil and spill out of the pot and even then he somehow calms it down enough to be coherent. Al because he promised to think about you before his own selfish feelings.

“We can start tomorrow,” Childe suggests, “or even tonight, there’s still time. You’ve been living with me for long enough. It’s time you actually moved in.”

Even while you are quiet, Childe has a million thoughts running through his head. Bed, lonely, empty, cold sheets, cold pillows, empty dressing table, empty nightstand. He recalls the room you’ve turned into your personal haven, the cluttered dressing table, the nightstand with a ton of wires, the eraser dust that’s almost always on the ground near your table, and the warm feeling that envelopes him whenever he enters this little haven of yours.

He needs to have you more or else he doesn’t know what he’d do. And he doesn’t want to know what he’d do to you.

“I hear you,” you speak up, successfully interjecting his thoughts, “but we’re not in a relationship. We can’t just start doing married couple things.” You make a face, scrunching up your nose like you always do. “Living in different rooms is appropriate because we’re still-”

“Marry me then.”

You shut your mouth immediately.

“Your problem is our relationship right?” Childe takes a step closer, eyes focused on yours. “Then marry me. Problem solved.”

“Wait. Ajax, that’s too fast. Calm down.”

“That’s not ‘too fast’. We’ve been living together for almost a year now. We’ve known each other for over a whole year. This isn’t fast.”

Regardless, you try to de-escalate it. De-escalate his rashness. “Okay. I understand. But we’re too young and my parents wouldn’t allow something like this so suddenly-”

“Leave them to me. I’ll handle getting their approval. They seem to like me anyway. That’s all you’re worried about right? And we’re not young. We’re adults.”

The apprehension grows. You do not know how this idea popped into his head, but you blame yourself for mentioning ‘married couple’ earlier. Why is he so obsessed? Is having you in his home constantly under his vision not sufficient?

“So what’s your answer? Or do you want to wait while I get a ring and you speak to your parents?”

The anxiety starts eating you from the inside. You know you can’t escape him. You’re too deep into his clutches to even consider escape, but you still hold onto feeble hope that you can delay the inevitable just a little longer. “Fine. You’re ready and okay for such a thing, but I’m not ready for such a big step.”

Contrary to your expectations, Childe’s mood further sours. “That’s what you always say.” As soon as the words are uttered, Childe remembers thinking to himself how he hoped you won’t blame him for anything he might end up doing tonight. Well. If it allows him to have you, he’d do anything. “The only difference would be that we’d be closer. Nothing else.”

“We’re close enough,” you meekly comment.

“So you don’t want to marry me?”

“No, it’s not that I don’t, but…”

“But?”

You think over the time you’ve lived under his roof. He has been controlling, sure, but he has been more accommodating and understanding. If you were to bet your life on one thing, it would be that Ajax would always unequivocally love and care for you. Besides, this is inevitable. The moment he locked eyes with you at your job, it had been decided that this would happen. That you would be his.

Delaying and denying all this simply makes you miserable. Who are you to deny such affection? Such love that suffocates you, surrounds you constantly with eyes in the shadows watching your every breath. Who are you to deny a man who has countless times told and showed you that he’d drop to his knees for you on a moment’s notice?

He may control your life and future, but you control him as well. Or you do to an extent at least. What his words cannot express, his hands and eyes do, and those things are precisely what have kept you going on the hope that the inevitable is not as horrifying as you delude yourself into thinking of it.

Ajax loves you, and you’d be damned if you refuse his love. Not only is there no way out, but you think you do not want out anymore. You’re too deep in his web.

Besides, you know that if you were to refuse him, he’d try again and again before eventually forcing it upon you. It’s better to accept. You can’t delay the inevitable.

Warm hands cup your face, thumbs rubbing the corners of your eyes. “Don’t cry,” he whispers, and you blink away tears you did not know you were shedding.

Minutes pass on the secluded corner of the pier, and when he is satisfied with how much you have calmed down, he lets you go. Hands hang by his sides as he waits for an answer, but you don’t keep him waiting. With a gentle pat to his cheek, you give him your answer.

“I’ll start moving my things in the morning.”

His celebratory smile only grows when you continue speaking.

“And… I’ll start talking to my parents. I’ll let you know the updates.”

You were in the middle of organising your things when the realisation dawned on you. You’re moving into his room. All of your things will go there. All of your things. Does this mean you both are officially in a relationship? That means he’s going to wake up next to you, go to sleep next to you, and you’re going to share a wardrobe with him. Even a bathroom.

This might just make his possessive nature worse. But it’s alright. You can talk sense into him. He usually does listen to you.

Nevertheless, you can’t help but wonder… Why are you accepting of this? Somehow the idea of being so close doesn’t bother you as much as you think it should. Do you really like him that way? Are you in denial?

Ajax’s voice calls out to you, asking if you need any help. You’re currently in the middle of going through your clothes, and you would rather he not bear witness to seeing your undergarments and clothes thrown haphazardly across the bed. Thus, you tell him no and continue organising, putting home clothes separate and classifying the rest accordingly.

When those are done, you let the piles be on the bed and move to your dressing table. Expired and empty containers are chucked into the bin, and you grab the rest and move outside, passing by a curious Ajax in the living room and making yourself home in his room. The bottles are carefully placed amongst his things, and soon the dressing table looks cluttered.

Well, to be used is to be messy. It’s okay.

You return to the piles of clothes and transport each pile one by one onto his bed. When all have been gathered, you place them in the space he’s apparently kept empty for you ever since he moved here in an orderly fashion, making sure all your undergarments are in the locked drawer instead of the regular one. There are no fingers or accusations pointed, but there is also no complete trust in this matter.

Ajax trails behind you this time, curiously watching you take your toiletries and place them in his bathroom. He eyes the addition of a new shampoo and conditioner and other bottles he doesn’t care to classify but is happy to simply see them there. You make the journey back to your ex-room and gather all your chargers and wires only to find yourself untangling them first.

“Do you need help?”

You’re quick to refuse, but he still stands there watching. Gathering them all in your hands, Ajax is tempted to offer his help again but closes his mouth when he remembers you telling him to “not butt in” while you move your things. So, he watches you and trails behind you. He follows you around and watches you as you bump into the sofa’s edge when he calls your name and stumble forward only to lose your footing and fall straight onto the floor.

It did not help that your arm had slid against the edge of the centre table and you horribly skinned the back of your arm.

Ajax stands there, horrified for a moment, before he ignores the cluttered mess of chargers and wires and crouches down beside you, immediately checking your injuries and helping you sit up. But it does not help him when he sees blood slowly starting to ooze from the mess of broken skin and you wince when he gently grabs your hand to look at the wound.

Regardless, he cups your face with the other hand while simultaneously looking you over for other injuries. When you assure him and his repeated questions that it’s just your arm, he relaxes a bit. However, he cannot help it. There’s more blood now, not a lot but enough to completely cover the broken skin, and if he leaves it be, it might start trickling down your arm before the wounds close.

So, Ajax does what his mind wants him to do. He kisses the skin near the wound at first, completely ignoring your questioning look, and slowly moves towards the injury. Soft lips glide over the skin, inching closer towards the desired target. Then, when he can feel your gentle tugs to be let free, he tightens his grip and licks.

Ajax licks some of the blood, the texture of broken skin welcomed by his tongue. You sit there horrified and extremely confused while he licks it again before freezing and letting go.

Awkward eye contact ensues, and your face clearly shows how utterly puzzled and alarmed you are. Nevermind the fact that those were wet licks and your arm has his saliva on it and the broken skin he lapped up is on his tongue which he is sneakily trying to swallow.

Minutes pass, and you finally gather the composure to speak. “Ajax. What the fuck?”

He is quick to be defensive, knowing full well you’ve been so good to him these days and he can’t afford to scare you off. “I just… I let my intrusive thoughts win. Sorry.”

Your terror only grows. “I don’t even want to know what your intrusive thoughts are anymore. Well. At least your licking distracted me from the pain. It doesn’t hurt anymore with your spit on it. Gross. Wash your mouth after this.”

Somehow, a smile stretches on his face. “Wash my mouth? After getting to have a piece of you? Sweetheart, a little bit of you is in me. Why would I ever not want that?” You open your mouth to interject but are cut off. “If I could, I’d make us become one. That way, I don’t have to worry about you thinking of anything else except me.”

You’re quite… speechless. Did he really just indirectly admit he wants to eat you? What the hell??

“Speaking of which,” Ajax whispers, “forgive me but another intrusive thought won.” With that, he moves closer. Close enough in your face to have your noses brushing. To his surprise, you do not create distance, allowing him to fan his breath over your lips as he slowly turns his head.

The only thing stopping his lips from kissing yours directly is his hand on your lips.

When he pulls away, Ajax’s blue eyes meet your widened ones, your face flushed and clearly flustered. Unfortunately for you, a grin is on his face. “I’ll kiss you for real when you say yes to the ring. Then, I'll make your body mine too.”

With that, he gets up and grabs the first aid box while you sit with his spit drying on your arm. You are sometimes genuinely terrified of him. This is one of those times.

“Don’t lick me ever again.”

Ajax frowns at that. “If you forbid me, then how am I supposed to go dow-”

“Stop! That’s enough!” You successfully shut him up, and he continues disinfecting your injury in silence. “Do not spew such mindless words ever again.”

Unfortunately, he catches onto your words, smiling mischievously. “I’ll do it if you do one thing.” When asked for his conditions, Ajax shamelessly gives his request. “Tell me you’re mine. That I’m the person you want.”

When you show hesitation, he is quick to remind you that you’ve agreed to completely move in with him and agreed to sleeping with him. Thus, you acquiesce.

“I’m… Ugh, I can’t believe I’m saying this.” He chuckles, but you continue humouring him. “I’m yours, Ajax.”

He pushes further. “And?”

Your cheeks heat up, and you meekly let out the second part. “And… you’re the person I want.”

As soon as the desired words leave your mouth, Ajax is soothed. Soon, he’s disinfected the mess of broken skin and tied a bandage around your arm for the time being so that you don’t accidentally hurt yourself again. When asked about his payment, you simply pat his cheek like you do, but decide to scratch the skin behind his ear before travelling upwards into his hair.

With a last pat to his head, you leave him a blushing mess with messy hair as you return to the wires scattered on the ground, picking them up before continuing what you were doing. It doesn’t serve him right that you casually rendered him paralysed and just got up and left. But then again, that is the least you should do against him after what he has done to you.

Flustering someone does not compare to putting them in a fancy cage. Well, Ajax’s deceit makes it hurt more. If you knew the full extent of his desires, you would never let him breathe the same air as you. But you do not. And that is precisely why he plans to slowly let them surface, to allow you time to accept him. He just hopes he doesn’t grow impatient with how good you’ve been.

(Bonus scene)

“What do you mean you want a pillow wall between us?”

You don’t mind Ajax’s childish whines, instead busying yourself with moisturising your face. But when he moves to remove a pillow, you are quick to turn and give him a glare. “I agreed to sleeping next to you and moving into your room. The least you can do is give me time to settle in and let me have a damn pillow wall.”

Ajax slowly puts the pillow back down quietly, and you turn around to close the moisturiser bottle. Though you catch a glimpse of him glaring daggers into the pillow wall, you continue cleaning the clutter of your things on the dressing table.

You’ll take it away in a few days. Let him suffer for a few nights.

#childe x reader #yandere childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #yandere tartaglia x reader #yandere childe #yandere tartaglia #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact x reader

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